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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 2 years

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With Fire and Blood, and the Darkness in Between

Darkling/General Kirigan/Aleksander Morozova x Targaryen!Reader

Part 1

Shadow and Bone and Game of Thrones crossover

Part 2

A/N: My new story is finally released y’all! Sorry if it took a while but this semester has me in a chokehold. 😖 I will be publishing it as a series so I hope you lovelies enjoy! And as always feedback and reblogs are much appreciated and let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! Have a beautiful day! 💕

Summary: Imagine being the youngest Targaryen and the half-sister of Daenerys. You had lived most of your life in captivity, shut off from the world after your brother Viserys married you off to an old lord at the age of 12 as means to get rid of you for being a half-breed. You used to be a bright and free-spirited child who saw nothing but the goodness in those around you, but the experiences you faced made you grow cold and distant with a lack of remorse for the wicked. Not wanting to live the life your brother had chained you to, you ran away and finally reunited with your sister and helped her win back the throne. (Season 8 never happened) Wanting to build a life of your own, you set sail across the seas with your dragons and army, traveling far and wide before venturing into foreign land in a place called Ravka where you stumble upon a kingdom with a king who you loathe, believing him undeserving of rule. During your stay there, you cross paths with a certain raven-haired general with aspirations of his own. Will you stand alongside him in his mission, or will you take the throne for your own and rule as Y/N Targaryen, the Dragon Witch Queen of Ravka?

Warnings: vulgar language, mentions of rape and abuse and suicide, mentions of abuse against a minor, mentions of incestuous themes, violence and gore, sexual themes. This series will have some dark themes so please read at your own risk.

Notes: slow burn, angst, enemies to lovers trope. Flashbacks are in italics.

Flashback takes place in Pentos 4 years before Daenerys's marriage to Khal Drogo. Reader is 12 while Daenerys is 13.

"Something doesn't seem right.” You muttered out in a faint voice. A frown was painted on your features as you stood by the balcony overlooking the sea that touched the coast of Pentos, watching the small waves caress the sandy shores while your fingers traced along the cracks and grooves that lined the stone handrail.

"Whatever do you mean?" Your sister Daenerys asked from behind you while she brushed through your hair.

"Why is Viserys having us dress up?"

"Well he said we're having important guests."

"Yes but I don’t understand what that has to do with us.”

"I don't know. I'm sure it's important with whatever he is doing." Daenerys shrugged as she separated parts of your hair for a braid, running her fingers through your lengths lovingly before interlocking them with each other. She had always loved your hair growing up, believing it to be unique to the Targaryen line who were known for their silver hair. You had instead inherited your mother's skin and her hair, which was a rich y/h/c that cascaded down your back. If one were to see you amongst your siblings, they would not have recognized you as a Targaryen if it weren't for your eyes. Like the famous dragon riders of long before, you shared their purple orbs that had passed down generations, a proud symbol of their Valyrian heritage. While Daenerys’s eyes were a striking color of violet reminiscent of the flowers themselves, yours were the color of amethysts with flakes of gold that resembled a bit of the fire that embodied the dragons of your name. Despite being the bastard child of Aerys Targaryen, the Targaryen blood still ran through your veins, and the talk of you and your sister’s beauty had reached lands as far as the eye could see.

"Am I being sent away?"

"What? Of course not! What gave you that idea?"

"He’s mentioned it before. I know that he hates me for being a half-breed."

"Don't say that.” Daenerys sighed, tying off your braid before resting her hands on your shoulders. “I don't think Viserys is going to send you away y/n."

The sound of the door creaking from being opened echoed through the room, and as you turned towards it, you saw your older brother Viserys waltz in, a confident grin plastered on his face as he stridden over to the two of you with a bundle of dresses draped over his arms. "Ah. There the two of you are. I bring gifts from the North."

"The north?" Dany looked at him with her brows knitted together in confusion. "From who?"

"Our new guests of course. This one is for you Dany." He handed her a dress before turning to you. "And this.....is for you. Pretty isn't it? Feel the fabric, fine wool from the north.”

You gave Viserys a quizzical look before eyeing the bundled up dress that was draped over his arms with much skepticism.

“Well go on. Touch it.”

You reached a hesitant hand towards the dress, twisting the dark gray fibered fabric that was trimmed with embroidery between your fingers with a distasteful look on your face. “It’s rough.”

“That’s because it’s wool. It’s meant to keep you warm against the cold.”

“But why? It’s not cold here.”

"Because dear sister." Viserys moved a loose strand of your hair behind your ear before placing his fingers under your chin with a smugness hidden behind the fraud paternal gaze that masked it. "You are getting married."

Your face paled in reaction, your eyes widening at his words while every inch of your skin turned cold.

"M-married?" Daenerys stuttered in disbelief, her voice small, afraid to raise her tone at him in fear he'd lash out like he had many times before to keep her amenable. The violets of her eyes which were usually bright, now grew dark and flickered with the thoughts that ran through her head. "To who?"

"A wealthy lord in the north. Well," He rolled his eyes in disappointment. "Not wealthy enough but still. He paid quite the price for this one. Now she can finally be off my hands." Viserys stared down at you with coldness in his gaze, his grip on your chin only getting tighter as his nails started to dig in to the skin there, causing you to wince. There was something behind the pale lilacs of his eyes that mirrored just a flicker of the past, of your father, The Mad King. You had never met your father, for he had died before you were even born. But you had heard plenty of stories through Viserys and others, and you could have sworn you saw that same madness in your brother in this very moment. But there was also something else that you couldn’t quite put a name to, something you were still too young to quite understand even though the sense of it unsettled you. It was a look that you had often seen whenever he was in the presence of Dany. Though there was that same bit of lust hidden behind them that he shared for Dany, a look that disgusted you whenever he glanced upon your sister, there was also contempt, a hatred that only filled them in your presence despite the brotherly smile he put on.

"The north? You're sending her to the north? You-you can't." You heard Dany whimper beside you while you glared back at Viserys, your nails digging into the skin of your palms.

"I'll do as I please. And this one is going to do as it is told. Aren't you half-breed?"

"But you can't." Daenerys pleaded. "She's only 12. She’s just a child.”

"And so are you. Quiet Daenerys." Viserys snapped at her before turning back to you. "You. Undress, now. I need to make sure Lord Pythias is getting his coin's worth."

"But-" You quivered.

"Now. Before I do it myself."

Your hands trembled as they fumbled with the buttons of your dress, tears forming in your eyes as you did not want to bare yourself in front of your brother. You were filled with resentment towards him, your fingers itching to claw those foul eyes out from his skull so that he could never look upon you or Dany ever again. But your fear had overcome your anger, and so you did not have the strength nor the courage to do such a thing. "Viserys please don't make me do this." Your lip quivered as you lowered your gaze to the floor, your hands clutching your dress over your chest once it dropped down your shoulders.

"Viserys please.” Daenerys begged, pulling on the sleeve of your brother's tunic. "Marry me off. But not y/n."

“Quiet Daenerys.”

"You can't do this! She's all that I have left. Please don't send her away!" Your sister cried out, the sound of desperation in her voice stopping you from letting your dress fall to the floor.

"I said quiet!" Viserys hit her with the back of his hand, causing Dany to tear up as she held her reddened cheek.

You fumed at the sight of him striking out at her, your nostrils flaring and your breathing quickening. You don't know what came over you as you bared your teeth and attacked your older brother in blind fury, it was almost as if all that abuse that you had endured, bottled up inside had finally boiled over. "Don't touch her!"

Viserys was caught off guard of you lunging yourself at him as he watched you with wide eyes. His hands were held out in front of him as he tried to fight you off until you brought your hand down at him and scratched him across his face.

"Agh! ..........You hit me. Why you little bitch." He stood stunned for a moment from the stinging pain on his cheek, touching his face to see blood on his fingertips.

You stepped back in a mixture of fear and disbelief, coming into realization of what you had just done. "Viserys p-please. I'm-I'm sorry."

"How dare you! You little half-breed whore!" Viserys's face distorted into rage as he threw you to the ground and hovered over your form, pinning you down while repeatedly hitting you across your face with the back of his hand. You cried out in pain from his violent strikes, writhing under him as the ring that he wore on one of his fingers sliced across your face in small cuts. "You've made a big mistake you little slut! You have woken the dragon! And now you're going to pay for it!"

"Viserys stop! Please!" Dany cried out as she fell to her knees with tears streaming down her face as she tried to reach out for you.

"What in the name of Westeros is going on in here?" A loud booming voice was heard approaching the area.

Viserys stopped with an annoyed expression, turning towards the door to see Illyrio Mopatis appear in the room. "What?"

"Have you lost your senses? Lord Pyhtias wants her untouched, not a single mark on her. What will he think when he sees this?" Illyrio huffed once he saw you pinned beneath your brother, your skin flushed scarlet with small drops of blood trickling out from the tiny cuts that lined your face, along with a deeper cut that had formed on your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut against the tears that ran down the sides of your face and burned against your newly formed wounds while you held your arms up to shield you.

"The little bitch opened her mouth." Viserys got off you and stood to his feet, looking down at your shivering form with pure disgust before calmly telling Illyrio. "I'll just tell Lord Pythias the bitch fell down some steps. After all, her being a virgin is what matters to him most."

"Heavens sake. Get her cleaned up and dressed. They should be here any moment." Illyrios voiced, shrugging the whole thing off before walking away.

"Get her dressed and ready Dany." Viserys ordered with a clenched jaw. "And you, half-breed, do not disappoint me, or else I'll have Pythias and his men take their turns with you in front of the whole city to get what I want."

Daenerys quietly watched him leave the room before rushing over to your side, her face filled with worry as she helped you up from the floor. "Shh it's okay y/n. I have you."

You sobbed into your sisters shoulder, tears pouring down your face as she cradled your trembling form in her arms, rocking you back and forth and softly singing you a lullaby while tears streamed down her face as well. The both of you were hurt, terrified, and neither of you wanted to let go knowing what was to happen.

The wedding had come much sooner than you had wanted as you stood in the dining hall with your sister and Viserys beside you, waiting for your future husband to arrive. Both you and Daenerys wore the dresses gifted to you, the heavy fabric of the north scratching against your skin, something that you were not at all accustomed to from being in the weather of Essos. Your face had been washed off of the blood, and though the wounds were not deep, the pain of it was still there, stinging beneath the clear ointment that your sister had applied. Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, nor was there a single thought amongst them as you stared out at the tile floor of the hall. You prayed to the gods for some miracle, anything, wanting it to be the sudden death of Lord Pythias and his men, wishing for a great storm to come and bury his ship at the bottom of the sea and drown those that sailed it. But the gods worked not in your favor, for just a few moments later, one of the servants entered to announce the arrival of the Northerners.

You blinked out of your lifeless daze, looking up from the ground from the feeling of your sister's hand grabbing yours. And as you looked towards her profile, you saw a frown sitting on her lips. Her skin which was normally pale, was now almost as white as the hair that sat on her delicate head. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it quickly after sensing Viserys straighten up beside you.

"Remember what I told you sweet sister." You heard him say in your ear. "You wouldn't want all his men having you for themselves now would you. After all, one word from me and I'm sure Lord Pythias would be more than eager to act upon it."

"No."

"No what?" He clenched his jaw, his hand tightly pinching the flesh of your arm and causing you to wince. "I need you to be clear."

"I promise I'll obey."

"Good." Viserys smiled with a nod in approval as he retuned his hand back to his side. "It's a good thing you and Dany are pretty, even though you're just a half-breed. I would sell the two of you to every man in the world and let them fuck you if it meant me getting the throne."

"May the gods gift you a crown of fire." You muttered under your breath.

"What was that?" Viserys hissed.

"I said, dear brother, may the gods gift you a crown of fire. A crown fit for a dragon, for fire cannot kill a dragon."

"A crown of fire fit for a dragon." Viserys smirked at the thought, his eyes glossed over with his own delusional ambitions, oblivious to the darker meaning you had behind it, and that you had meant it more as a prayer of vengeance that the gods might soon fulfill rather than a tribute to his honor. "I like that. I hope that you might one day see it dear sister, to see me with the crown I so rightfully deserve."

The three of you turned at the sound of scattered footsteps echoing off the walls, the clicking of boots tapping against the floor like hooves against dirt, getting louder and louder. And as you looked towards the entrance with panic written in your eyes, you saw a group of men enter the hall led by a short older, rather stout looking individual in the front with another man walking beside him. Their clothes were dark and gray, devoid of any color and character, a stark difference to the vibrance of Essos that you were so accustomed to. The boots of the men were still caked with the mud from the North, tracking the dirt all over the floors as they went. And they carried with them their house banner, a symbol of a boar. Your fingers tightened around the cold hand of your sister, your jaw clenching as you watched the man leading them get closer and closer to where you stood with your siblings, his form swaying with each heavy step until finally stopping in front of Viserys.

"Lord Pythias." Your brother nodded his head respectfully. "It's an honor to have you join us."

"The pleasure is all mine Viserys!" Lord Pythias patted your brother's shoulder before gesturing to the man that had remained at his side since you saw them enter through the doors. "This here is my personal bodyguard and advisor Sir Bjorn Maurinus from Braavos." Lord Pythias spoke in a voice that was throaty and wheezy, as if he were struggling with each line he spoke, the sound unpleasant to the ears and what one would describe as the snorting of a hog.

The man whom Pythias had just introduced remained unmoving, giving Viserys just the slightest nod that barely went noticed. Bjorn Maurinus was a tall man of a lean figure of age 47, and there was a certain sharpness about his stature from the hook of his nose to the deep browns of his eyes that made you curiously drawn to his character, for there was not a single sign of emotion nor change of expression in the impassiveness of his face in the time that he was there. Your eyes caught the glint of the handle that belonged to his sword that sat at his hip, and as you lowered your gaze, you noticed that his left leg had been cut off below the knee, where a wooden limb had now replaced it. Bjorn had noticed you staring at his wooden leg, and with an unpleasant twist of his thin lips and a scowl in your direction, he pulled his cloak over to cover it.

"Well well well, this must be my new bride." You heard Pythias draw out his words, looking over to see him disgustingly leer at you with a lick of his pale and chapped lips, the way a predator would his meal. His irises were a dull gray, lacking any sign of warmth or compassion in them, reminding you of the blades of daggers and swords that were used to cut down men. And his eyes themselves were toad-like, sitting far apart from each other on his face and bulging out of their sockets.

"Indeed. Come sweet sister.” Viserys waved you over. “This is my youngest sister y/n. Your new bride-to-be. What do you think?"

"She's pretty, really pretty." Lord Pythias came over to grab your jaw, lifting and turning your face to each side as if he were inspecting cattle. It took everything in you to not flinch and shrivel away, even the mere smell of him made you feel ill. And now that his face was a mere inches from yours, the sight of him disgusted and horrified you. Viserys had noticed the way you recoiled and in response grabbed you with a flare of his nostrils, gripping your arm firmly between his grasp to keep you in place. From the pressure Viserys was applying around your arms, you were sure the prints of his hand would leave a bruise in its place. Lord Pythias was much older than you, a man in his 50s with thinning hair whom you thought had no business marrying a girl of your age. You could tell that he had not bathed in days, the smell of him was absolutely rancid and turned the contents of your stomach making you feel nauseous. He reeked of ale and beer and it was evident in his breath from the way he breathed so heavily on your face. And from the way the whites of his eyes and his skin tinted of yellow, it was clear that he drank often. His hands had not been washed either for there was dirt underneath his fingernails as you could feel the grime on them just by him touching you, and you were definite they would leave a trace once he removed his fleshy fingers from your face. "Her face is cut up." Lord Pythias gave a disapproving look.

"Yes, well," Viserys cleared his throat, "my dear sister can be quite graceless at times and fell down some steps."

"Hmph. I wanted her pretty for the ceremony. Is she a virgin?"

"Oh of course, she hasn't been touched by a single man, I made sure of it. I'm sure your lordship finds that agreeable."

"Oh yes." The man smiled at that. "And what of her figure? Has she grown into her womanly curves?"

"No, not yet, she turned twelve just a few months ago."

"Good. Good. I'll take her." Lord Pythias dropped his hands from your face before turning to his bodyguard. "Bjorn, hand Viserys his gold."

You watched with unsteady breaths, your heart pounding in your chest as if it were to burst through this very second and leave you dead in order to save itself as you fixed your gaze on the leather pouch that contained your weight in gold be handed over to your brother. Tears threatened to spill from the corner of your eyes and your knees trembled beneath the skirt of your gown. It felt as if your legs were in the process of giving out underneath you, and if it weren't for your sister, your surely would have collapsed to the floor. You felt powerless, trapped between the walls that would soon become your life. The gold was a declaration of your imprisonment, an emblem of your dying freedom, and there was not a single thing left to save you now.

"Perfect." Viserys smiled, weighing the pouch of gold in his palms. "Illyrios, bring in the guests will you. It's time that my sister got married."

The wedding ceremony had been short and forthright, not a single ounce of elaborateness or emotion in it as you were cloaked and joined at the hands for the tying of the ribbon. It all seemed like a fever dream as it passed, just a blur of the senses as you now sat at the dining table for the feast. Lord Pythias had been seated beside you, drunk from his many glasses of wine and howling with laughter as he shouted boisterously amongst his peers while Sir Bjorn Maurinus sat quietly on your right. You had not touched your food during the whole feast, your face wooden as your stared down at your plate, occasionally flinching in repulsion each time that Lord Pythias placed his meaty hands on your thighs. You found yourself staring time and time again at the knife that was placed on the table in front of you, lined up perfectly with the other silverware, the silver glinting across your eyes in a beam of light. You found yourself drawn to it, as if it were calling out your name for that sweet escape, just that quick swipe of the blade and it would be over, all of it. It had not even been more than two hours in the time that you were married, and you already dreaded it, wanting nothing more than to end it here, right now. As if suddenly overtaken by a trance, you found yourself reaching for the knife, closing your fingers around the cool metal until a voice stopped you.

"What do you think you are doing?" Sir Bjorn's spoke from beside you, his voice thick with the accent of Braavos from the roll of his r's.

"I'm-I was going to eat."

"The girl lies. That's a load of horseshit if I've ever heard one." Sir Bjorn pulled the goblet to his lips, taking a sip of the dark wine. "I know that look girl."

"I-I don't know what you mean." You turned towards him only for him to prevent you for doing so.

"Don't. Keep your head forward. Now tell me. A girl turns 12 and weds a cunt old enough to be the father of her father. You had not touched your food since it was placed before you. You and I both know what your intentions are.”

“Is it so wrong then? It’s my life to take.”

“The girl wishes to die then."

"............Yes. I-I don't want to live through the wedding night."

"So. The girl wishes to die and never see her sister again, instead of fighting and living to see another day."

"If I fight, I put my sister at risk."

"Not if the girl dances with her enemies."

"What do you mean?"

"If the girl is patient, she can live to see another day."

"How?"

"One step at a time."

You caught slight movement at the corner of your vision, shifting your eyes ever so slightly to see Sir Bjorn lower his hand to offer you a small vial.

"Take this. Keep it in the folds of your sleeves. And do not let a single soul see it. Understand?"

"What is it?" You dropped your hand to your side, making sure to keep your eyes forward as you took the small glass vial in your hand,, feeling the contents swirl inside as you stuffed it in the sleeve of your wedding dress.

"When he takes you to his chambers on his ship tonight, offer him a glass of wine and pour a drop in. It will keep him unconscious until sunrise and he will not remember a thing."

"And then what? How long am I supposed to keep up with this act?" You questioned, but to no avail, for when you turned to look at him, he had returned to his meal and avoided your gaze, his face once again that unreadable expression as if the conversation had never happened.

The sun had started to set upon the horizon, casting the sky in brushstrokes of reds and oranges that reflected against the waters of the earth, painting the sea the color of blood as far as you could see. The scene almost looked ominous as you stood by the docks, waiting for Lord Pythias's men to board the ship until it would eventually be your turn to step onto the wooden plank that lead to it. The cloak that Lord Pythias had gifted you was wrapped over your shoulder, the furs of the collar tickling against your cheek from the light breeze as you huddled against Daenerys, the two of you holding on to each other as if it was the last thing left of your mortality.

"I don't want to go." You stared out, scowling at the sight of Viserys and Lord Pythias laughing with each other, the two men that singlehandedly ruined your very existence and will to live.

"I know." Daenerys spoke softly. She had tried so desperately to not weep in front of you, but it came to a point that she could no longer hold back the tears as they poured down her face.

"Daenerys......if I don't make it back."

"What are you on about?"

"I'm being serious." You turned to her with tears in your eyes. "By the time the ship sails, I will be on my way to the North. None of us have been there, and it is far from here. Gods know what will happen to me. I might never see you again."

"Don't say that." Daenerys shook her head frantically as she held you tighter. "The gods will bring us back together."

"You don't know that!" You snapped. "You-you don't know that. Gods. I-I-can't do this. I can't get married to him."

"Y/n!" Viserys voice rang out as he called out to you. "It's time for you to go to your new home!"

New home. You scoffed at the thought. You were positive your new home would end up becoming the death of you. You stared into the violets of your sister's eyes with widened eyes of your own, watching the tears roll down her pale cheeks before throwing yourself in her arms and sobbing into them. "Daenerys, I can't do this alone. I can't do this without you."

"Y/n. Y/n." Viserys's voice became louder as he walked up to the two of you with an annoyed expression on his face. "It's time to go. You wouldn't want to keep your husband waiting now would you?"

"No. I don't want to be his wife."

“Y/n, what did I tell you.”

"Brother please." You tried to reason with him but yelped in pain as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

"Listen here you little half-breed cunt!" Viserys hissed as he pulled at your hair to make you look at him.

"Ow! Viserys you're hurting me." You clawed at his hands to free yourself from his grip.

"I don't give a damn! That man paid good money for you. And you're going to keep him happy by being his little whore, or I swear on my mother's grave, I will let you rot in the North while every single man there fucks you like the little bitch that you are, and you will never see your sister again!" Viserys snarled in your ear before ripping you away from Daenerys and dragging you away to the ship by the back of your dress.

"Y/n! Viserys please!" Daenerys fell to her knees as she watched you get further and further away from her reach.

"Dany!" You craned your head back to look at your sister, your cheeks wet with your tears as your feet struggled to keep up with Viserys's steps.

"This is your last warning half-breed." Viserys stood you on the deck of Lord Pythias's ship. “There is no one there to protect you now. Do I have your word?"

You stared up at your brother, seeing the coldness in his eyes. "Yes. You have my word."

Viserys smiled at your answer, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ears before stroking your cheek with his finger. "Good. That is all I ever wanted sweet sister, your obedience and your loyalty. I promise, when I am king, I will bring you back home so that you, Dany and I could finally be together, where we belong."

For a moment, you swore you saw that old part of Viserys, of what used to be your kinder, younger brother who did everything that he could to take care of Dany and you. You fluttered your eyes closed against your tears as Viserys placed a soft and lingering kiss to your forehead, your body aching with the emotions that filled you as you watched your brother step back onto the dock.

"Lady y/n." You heard Sir Bjorn step up beside you. "Right this way please.”

You followed the man to the end of the ship, stepping onto the back deck as the ship started to set sail. It felt as if you no longer had the ability to cry, the tears that had streamed down your face just a second ago, now dried up from the air as you stared out at where your sister stood next to Viserys on the dock. Your expression matched hers as the wind blew against you, blowing back the braid that Dany had done that morning as you clutched the cloak closer to your frame. The ship started to sway beneath your feet against the waves as it began to set sail, leaving the shores of Pentos. The glass vial felt heavy in your sleeve as you stood unmoving, your eyes never leaving your sisters as she became smaller and smaller the further out you went into the sea until she became just a speck in the horizon. And when you could no longer see any remaining sign of her, of the one person you cared about, you turned away, not knowing if you would get out alive to ever see her again.

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

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Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 4 (Cowboy Path)

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. Refer to this Masterlist for previous chapters and alternate paths.

Chapter 4: The Party (Cowboy Path)

Pairing: Eli x reader

Content: Drinking, some angsty pining

Length: 2.4k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

The gala was as elaborate and ostentatious as you would expect of a formal event at the Imperial academy. It was like the whole ballroom shimmered as glasses of drinks were passed around and ornate dresses swished about in dance. You'd certainly never been a part of anything so grand from your home world before.

The sight made you pause as soon as you entered through the doors. It was breathtaking.

You let Thrawn guide you around the ballroom, barely registering his path as you took in all the shiny and expensive details around you. You were especially enchanted by the handful of couples circling around the dance floor, seemingly floating along with the music. You hadn't danced in so long... properly, anyway. Shimmying around your room in your underwear after a shower did not count.

"The music is quite pleasant," said Thrawn from beside you. For a moment, you forgot that part of the plan for the night was to substitute the names of your targets for other subjects, so any potential eavesdroppers would be none the wiser to your true intentions. Anything related to music was supposed to symbolize one half of the plan: Eva and Arden. But because you were so caught up in the spectacle around you, and your inner longing to genuinely engage with it all, you didn't immediately pick up on Thrawn's true meaning.

"It is," you said with just a hint of wistfulness. Your eyes happened to be watching one of the more gracefully dancing couples, the only signal to Thrawn that he needed to help you refocus.

He cleared his throat just loud enough to get your attention and then flicked his eyes toward the entrance of the ballroom meaningfully. You followed his gaze to see Eva and Arden had now arrived. Eli would be keeping an eye on them, while you and Thrawn would track Burdick. Your heart sunk as you were reminded, yet again, that you were not here for a good time. Tonight was about Thrawn's mission.

"Do you think Eli has noticed? The music?" you quickly supplied, hoping Thrawn wouldn't doubt your support.

"Yes, he seems to be enjoying it." Thrawn then looked to a different part of the room, where Eli was standing next to his date. Sadie. She was a tiny thing, with perfect proportions and well-styled hair and wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. You suddenly realized who she was, not having connected the dots before. She was in a few of your combat classes and had this weird habit of pumping her fist in victory every time she landed a good hit. You and Eli had made fun of her together. Why was he now going out with her?

"Yeah, he does..." you said absentmindedly as you watched your friend. Eli was making a show of casually looking around while really paying extra attention toward the couple by the entrance. But then Sadie linked her arm in his and looked up at him with a sweet smile, and he returned the gesture with a smile of his own. Your previous feelings of awe and fascination over this event were quickly turning into something much more sour.

"Did you also notice we have an assignment due soon?"

The comment from Thrawn made you blink away from the troubling scene in front of you. The Chiss had not been watching Eli, actually sticking to the plan and scanning the crowd for the other person of interest. Commander Burdick, who would be referred to by discussions of homework, another innocent topic. Thrawn had finally spotted him over by an hors d'oeuvre table.

"Thanks for the reminder," you muttered. A tray of drinks passed by, held aloft by a protocol droid, and you took the opportunity to swipe at one and down its contents in one go. You could see Thrawn eyeing you curiously from your peripheral, but you made it a point to not look back.

"Perhaps we should stand out of the way," said Thrawn, taking hold of your elbow and guiding you through the crowd and over to an area where several tall cocktail tables were set up. You set your empty glass on the surface of one of them and leaned restlessly against it. Your eyes kept wandering toward the commander as he munched furiously on some kind of cubed meat, glowering at all who passed by. Eventually you'd have to help make sure he was glowering at Arden long enough to maybe get some ideas, but right now, with the night only just beginning, there didn't seem to be much need for you to linger.

"This is a fun song. Maybe we could dance for a bit? Pass the time?" you asked, swirling your empty glass around in a bored manner.

Thrawn stared at you for a moment, most likely trying to determine if you were using the special code that you were supposed to or if you were actually talking about music and dancing.

"I think we should discuss the assignment that is due," he said, almost in a reprimanding tone. "It is rather important."

You swiped at another tray of drinks passing by, muttering over the rim of the glass, "Who goes to a party to talk about homework?"

You were being salty; you knew that. This mission was important and you cared about it. You cared about your friends and what this meant for them. But it seemed the more alcohol you took in, the more annoyed you grew toward those friends. Thrawn was such a stick in the mud, and Eli was apparently a big flirt. Was this really the best way to fix their problem? Was it really worth missing out on a fun evening?

Thrawn didn't seem too pleased as you downed your second drink in a matter of minutes. He cleared his throat in that way he did when he was about to lecture you. You cut him off before he got the chance.

"So what was that surprise you were talking about earlier?"

He blinked at you. "I never mentioned a surprise."

"Yeah. You said you didn't disappear, you were working on something, and that I'd see soon enough. Well? What should I be seeing?"

He reached across the table and gingerly took your empty glass from you with a frown. "You hadn't noticed? There is only one assignment."

It was your turn to blink at him. He sighed and jerked his head to where Burdick was still standing.

"I made sure his date would be delayed in arriving," he said very quietly; you almost couldn't hear him above the din of the party. "So he wouldn't be distracted."

You looked over at the Commander, not very subtle in your observation of him, so it was no surprise the man noticed your staring and frowned even more deeply.

The sound of your name caused you to snap back to Thrawn, who was circling the table to lean in closer. He seemed upset; or, as upset as Thrawn could ever seem through his calmness.

"If you have other things you wish to be doing, I would much rather you leave for them, instead of staying and causing problems." His voice was low in your ear. You sighed at his words, feeling bad for how you'd been behaving.

Just a little bit.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite student," came the voice of Commander Burdick. The man had apparently decided to come over after discovering you'd been staring at him, however, he was very clearly addressing Thrawn and not you. "I'm surprised you'd even come to an event like this."

"The Academy has provided a generous occasion tonight," Thrawn slipped out of his scolding of you and into his usual demeanor without missing a beat. "It would have been in bad taste for us to not attend."

Though it had been your staring that'd called him over, it was only when Thrawn referred to you collectively that Burdick finally acknowledged you. He gave a grunt as a sort of laugh.

"What about that scruffy little friend of yours? He doesn't care about taste?"

"Eli's here..." you heard yourself saying. You also felt Thrawn tensing beside you. You tried to give him a reassuring look as you turned to point out your friend behind you, moving about on the dance floor with Sadie. And just beside them was Eva and Arden, as you knew they would be. The two couples seemed to be trying to one-up each other with their dance moves. You quickly turned away so you wouldn't have to register how exciting and intimate it all was.

"So I see," Burdick hummed. You couldn't tell if he still had the same frown from before, or if it was a new one in response to seeing his ex with a student. "You're not a dancer, Thrawn?"

"Only when the mood strikes, sir."

"Well if you don't show your woman a good time, someone else will." Burdick took a step forward and held out a hand toward you. Your eyes grew wide, panicking. That was certainly unexpected.

Thrawn quickly, and smoothly, jumped to your defense.

"Sir, I'm afraid she is not feeling well. I have simply been keeping her company."

Burdick looked between the two of you, and then briefly beyond at the dance floor, before giving an odd smirk and retreating.

"Very well. Enjoy your... company."

The Commander turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. As you watched the back of his head, you couldn't help but wish you hadn't frozen and had accept his offer to dance. It was probably going to be the only offer you got all night.

"What... were... you... thinking..."

You looked over at Thrawn, surprised he was still upset. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes.

"Huh? I made sure he noticed Eva," you defended yourself. "He asked me to dance, probably to make her jealous, but since that's not happening, he'll be able to focus his revenge on Arden now."

"That is quite the assumption, based on absolutely no evidence."

"There is too evidence--"

"And apparently we've abandoned all secrecy and discretion, too. Might as well announce what we're planning to the whole ballroom while we're at it."

Thrawn's piercing eyes looked down on you, looking more like fire than they ever did. You bowed your head for a few seconds, needing to escape the heat and cool down.

"I'm sorry," you said, finally looking back at him. "I didn't mean to... mess up on the homework."

You offered what you hoped was an endearing smile. Thrawn only left you hanging for a second before he relaxed just a little.

"You did not mess up," he stated, returning to his side of the table and finally taking up the drink still left sitting there. "But perhaps you should just observe for the rest of the night."

And observe you did. The rest of the evening seemed to both pass by in a shimmering blur, and crawl forward at an unbearable pace. You observed couples dancing, laughing, even kissing. You observed how the energy of the ballroom shifted from eager liveliness to unhurried intimacy as time drew on. You observed the hors d'oeuvres dwindle and the champagne lose its bubbles and the lights dim ever-so-subtly.

Occasionally you actually observed the "homework," whenever he happened to pop out from the crowd. Thrawn did most of the note-taking, pointing out under muttered breath how the commander was still fixating on his ex, how his frown seemed to change from grumpiness and anger to determination and craftiness. Whatever that meant. You couldn't ever pretend to notice half the signs Thrawn did.

But most importantly, you observed a certain shaggy-haired boy from Wild Space.....

The way he danced, somewhat stiffly, but not as clumsy or awkward as one might expect from someone who couldn't figure out a tie.

The way he seemed to so effortlessly keep an eye on his despised classmate while still paying attention to his date and all her friends.

The way he casually hung out with her friends in between dances, as if he'd always been a part of their group.

The way he held her.

The way he looked at her.

At some point, you'd finished off your fifth glass of champagne, and you were definitely feeling the effects of it. That was what you were feeling, you told yourself. Your stomach was in knots and your brow was feeling warm and your heart was beating in your ears, all because of the alcohol. It didn't have anything to do with your guilt from upsetting Thrawn earlier, or the fact that even though Eli had nodded your way a few times in acknowledgement, he hadn't once come over to make good on his promise to save a dance for you. Nope. It was the alcohol and nothing else.

"Thrawn," you said quietly, breaking the Chiss's concentration on something-or-other across the way. "Do you mind if I call it a night? I'm pretty tired."

His eyes flickered over at the amount of empty glasses you had collected beside you, but he didn't comment on it. Only nodded in understanding and returned back to his mission.

You sighed as you picked your way through the crowd that remained. Quite a few students and teachers had already left for the night, but plenty still remained, and it baffled you just how many were hoping - and fighting - to earn to a place in the Empire.

And then something caught your eye just as you made to push through the doors and out into the night. One last thing to observe.

Eli and Sadie were swaying to the slow song playing, just off the actual dance floor. It was like they were in their own world. Her hands rested against his chest, and his chin laid atop her head, and they turned in slow circles as they rocked back and forth, holding each other close. When Eli's face finally turned toward your view, you swore your insides were threatening to crawl up your throat and spill out all over the shiny floor.

His face was relaxed, content. His lips were turned upward in a pleased sort of smile you'd only seen a few times on him before, usually after he'd told you a nice childhood memory, or after he finished a hearty meal. This wasn't an act; this had nothing to do with the mission or your purpose here at this dance. He was happy, holding her.

Just as his eyes wandered from whatever peaceful place they'd been resting and locked onto yours, you finally pushed through the door and left.

#star wars #eli vanto x reader #eli vanto #thrawn #thrawn & reader #choose your own adventure #friendship #romance #friends to lovers

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

Summary: Your first meeting with Sergeant Barnes wasn't exactly charming, hell, it was a disaster. And the only adjectives that came to your mind when you thought about him were words like prick, bastard and a jackass. He made your life hell, and you lived to make sure you made him suffer. And neither of you realized, how your sole mission of tormenting each other became the most important part of your life.

Warnings: Bucky Barnes continues to be an ass // Reader has finally has it // War declared

Coffee Stains - Masterlist

Coffee Stains

Your anger still lingered inside of you like a deep rooted worm, even after you had stepped into the warm soothing shower, after your encounter with whoever the fuck that man was. You were still annoyed, and you were sure as hell worried that your mood might end up affecting your performance at the training today. You stood in your room, the pads of your feet nestled onto the feathery carpet that adorned the floor of your apartment, semi dressed when you heard Friday.

"Miss Y/N, Captain is here, waiting for you."

You frowned, wondering if it was already 7 and somehow, you had lost the track of time, but you noted that it was still 6: 40 pm by the clock.

"Thank you, Friday," that was the fastest you had ever gotten into your yoga pants, pulling it over your round bum, the elastic strap stinging against your soft fleshy belly as it hit it with a slap. The towel still rolled over your hair, you ran up to the door and flung it open, only to see Steve standing there with two people you didn't know of and who were probably newbies like you.

"Y/N, how are you holding up?" Steve asked in soft voice, and somehow you found your previous anger slowly melting away.

"Great, Steve. I thought I'm late on my first day," your lips now crept upwards in a grin, and Steve just shook his head, his hand flying to the back of his head as he ran his fingers through his blond locks.

"I thought I'd introduce you to the two of them, they were the only ones I could find lurking in the recreation room, so I dragged them here."

"No, you did not, I was the one that insisted I wanted to meet the newbie," the dark haired girl just winked playfully in your direction, and you couldn't help but snort at her words when you saw Steve's face turn crimson like a cherry.

"I'm Wanda, well, people around here might call me stuff like the Sokovian witch and all that, but when they're saying that, consider it is me they're talking about." The woman threw out her hand towards you, her hand extended in a shake, and you took her hand, feeling a comfortable warmth radiating from her. Wanda then turned towards the one to her right, and smiled, "Well this one doesn't talk much, but you'll like him."

"Hello Miss Y/N, my name is Vision, and I have taken it upon myself to welcome you to our team."

"Thank you Vision, it's my pleasure." You shook his hand; the little meet and greet causing you to temporarily forget about the man; the stranger you had met in the kitchen a few minutes back.

Steve's thick voice reaching your ears caused you to turn towards him, and you saw him looking at the trio of you with a small smile playing on his lips.

"Well, I'll leave you guys to it– " He took a step away, his front turned towards you, but his steps moving backwards until he was now a good distance away, " Y/N, I will expect you to be at the training room in ten minutes." With that, his heavy footsteps retreated away, until you couldn't hear him anymore, and you were left standing with Wanda and Vision, on your doorstep.

"Around here, punctuality is the key. And in general," Vision began.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Vision and Wanda lingered around in your apartment for the next ten minutes along with you, talking to you about the life at the Avengers Towers and how you got used to it once you had started adjusting.

"After a while, it feels like you are living with your roommates, except the fact that they all are superheroes," Wanda chuckled, as she watched you place your glasses away and pull out your contact lenses and fix them into your eyes.

Exactly nine minutes later, you left your apartment, and slowly started making you way towards the training room with your newly found friends, who you realized just couldn't stop bantering and talking amongst themselves; and it was cute, not in a way you felt left out. The three of you made your way to the fourth floor, and towards the training room when Wanda and Vision finally parted ways with you as it was time for their own training as well, leaving you alone.

It wasn't long before you reached the training room, but before you could step in, you heard muffled voices from the inside, until you strained your ears a little and an automatically induced frown found its way to your forehead.

"What's gotten you so grumpy today, Buck?"

Steve.

The other voice that replied wasn't one of the voices you really wished to hear again.

"What's with Stark hiring all the weirdos found in NYC? I can't believe my best tshirt got ruined."

"Come on Buck, it was a tshirt. And besides, I'm sure it was an accident."

"Who the hell cares what it was, if I was Stark, I would have fired her lousy ass right away."

"Buck, language."

You couldn't believe this piece of shit was still stuck over what had happened that afternoon. You couldn't say you had forgotten about it, but atleast you were acting all grown up and weren't bitching about it to anyone. And here he was, bitching around with none other than your mentor. This day was getting worse and worse, and you internally begged to call it a day and disappear into your apartment so you could peacefully spend your night curled in that soft, mushy pillows and the silken sheets.

You cleared your throat, intentionally, so you could announce your presence and as if on cue, Bucky's head snapped in your direction and his scowl widened, making him narrow his eyes at you.

"You again? The hell you following me around for? If you're here to apologize– "

Steve's eyes widened when he sensed the tension slowly rising in the room and it wasn't like he was daft. Having put the two and two together, he understood now that the person responsible for putting Bucky in this foul mood had been you, well not intentionally.

"Buck, easy. She is our newest recruit. Thank you for being on time, Agent."

Bucky took a double take, his eyes raking over you, in a very obvious way; and not in a sexual kind of a way but in a way to believe that he was truly shocked. This annoyed you even more and your fingers clenched against your sides.

"You got to be kidding me, punk. She can't even walk straight while holding a darn mug of coffee."

That's it, you had it with him taking continuous digs at you.

"You know, you deserved it. And now I wish it wasn't just coffee but something way worse. Probably horse piss," you literally spat and if it wasn't for Steve who had now fixed himself in front of you, blocking the two of you from slamming anything you could lay your hands on, into each other's faces, things would have gotten messy in the training room within seconds.

"Bucky–" he warned, his palm outstretched towards him, glaring at him, "we have to train now."

He then turned towards you, his expression reflecting a bit of disappointment in his orbs, "Y/N, I expect atleast one of you to be sensible, and if not, then cordial, he is a senior in here."

It suddenly clicked in the back of your head. You had watched the coverage of the Battle of Triskelion on TV. So, this was him, that ass, Winter Soldier. Of course, this man had issues, like really serious ones. But that didn't excuse the way he was behaving with you. But also, you knew that Steve was right. There was no point in engaging with him, so you decided to just be cordial, if it meant not having to deal with his shit anymore.

"Fine." You grumbled, almost under your breath.

Running your hand through your short shoulder length (Y/H/C) hair, you finally walked up to where Steve was standing, already in the Captain America mode now.

"Today, we'll test your hand to hand combat skills," you heard him say and you nodded your head, zoning out all the unwanted presences in the training room, although you could feel Bucky's piercing gaze on you. You knew he wanted to watch you fail, and falter but you weren't going to give him a chance.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Sweat drenched down your face, dripping off your neck, as you shifted the weight of your body and threw out your fisted palm towards your mentor, with a sudden looping overhand, but Steve managed to block your punch, his own aim now towards your nose. Your reflexes had kicked in, causing you to duck at the right time and block his punch, at the same time managing to knock him off his feet with your foot thrown out.

Captain America was hard to beat, but so were you.

The distance had once again taken its place in front of the two of you, and the two of you were ready for another round, and you were glancing at your opponent, analyzing what he was thinking, what his next moves were. He was subdued, the weight of his body shifted to his left, his eyes narrowed at you, probably ready to attack, but you couldn't be sure; maybe he wanted you to attack first, and then he would counter you.

Suddenly, he lunged at you, his fists aimed in an attack and you had been wrong there, to study his body language, and even worse, when you let yourself get distracted when you heard a low, meenacing and annoying voice reach out to you, "Agent.. are you sure you can see Steve, because you don't seem to have your glasses on. Not that you know where to go even with them on."

Your eyes flew to him in disbelief and your mouth curved into a perfect O, making you lose your fighting stance, and your guard. Steve was already fast, and when he heard Bucky's taunt, he tried to shoot him a sharp glare for distracting you, but he couldn't stop himself, he was so in momentum, his heavy palm cracked against your abs, throwing you away, down on the mat with a force you didn't think was possible.

Steve threw his hands in the air, as he rushed over to you, kneeling down beside you, to check if you were alright, but you gave him a tight lipped smile and nodded, sitting upright, shooting Bucky a glare.

"I didn't know they taught you these cheap tactics of distracting people back at the army, Sergeant."

Bucky smiled, leaning forward slightly, so his elbows were resting against his knees, his lips stretched into what looked like an evil smirk.

"Weak people always find excuses, one way or the other. You let yourself get distracted."

He stood up, with slow steps, walking over towards you. By that time, you had lifted yourself off the mat, and your hands had flown to your hips, your neck held upright. Bucky stepped onto the mat, moving in front of Steve, who had opened his mouth in protest, but hadn't yet said anything, until Bucky was in your face, giving you a stare down.

"This is the real deal. I don't know where you came from or what you did. But this is the real deal. There will be real enemies, and they will do everything on their part to distract you. There is no room for weakness here."

Suddenly, a feeling of dread washed over you, it wasn't exactly dread, but it was something else all together, like a sudden burst of adrenaline , perhaps provoked by his words, but also because of his close proximity. You hadn't realized till that moment, and perhaps, neither had he, but he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face which caused your eyes to involuntarily fall over his lips for a second, and then back up, until you caught him smirking down at you, probably basking in his little mountain of victory.

You only thanked Steve inwardly, when he suddenly stepped in, breaking whatever this moment was, when he grabbed Bucky's palm and pulled him away from you, his eyes now on him, a look passing between the two of them that you couldn't decipher. Maybe it was a best friend thing between them, something only the two of them knew of.

"Buck, that's enough, she was good, and you know she was."

"I agree."

When a foreign voice sounded in the room, the three heads involuntarily snapped in that direction, only to find Sam Wilson leaning against the door, a half eaten apple in his hand, and his mouth moving as he was chewing on it.

"What?" He shrugged, his voice sounding unclear as his mouth was completely stuffed, "that was the Captain that she just fought. And I am impressed."

Your expressions softened, and a smile broke out on your lips and you nodded towards Sam, who nodded back with his eyes twinkling at you.

Bucky shrugged and finally, he let his shoulders relax, and shot you a quick look, "I don't think so. I think you just went soft on her."

You scoffed in disbelief, biting your lower lip to bite back from barking back at him and moved away from the mat to grab a chilled bottle of water that lay on a table. Your fingers worked on the bottle and at the same time, your eyes remained on Bucky, and Sam who had now joined the two of the super soldiers. You could see that Steve was trying to knock some sense into Bucky, tell him how he was just overdoing it, but Bucky just deadpanned, his glare fixed on you until he again took a dig at you, and this time you couldn't take it.

"Did it hurt? That blow to your –" He pointed his index finger towards his abs, that cocky smirk still draped over his lips, "Now maybe that's payback, for almost burning me a few hours back."

His words caused you to almost tighten your grip on the bottle, the grip so hard, the plastic of the bottle almost shrank. You took a deep breath, taking one step towards him, slowly, before your pace rose, and you were striding towards him, your eyes brewing with anger. The bottle was still in your hand, the cap laying abandoned on the table, so when you were sure you were at a close proximity from him, you tipped the bottle, letting the cold water drain through his tshirt, right on his abs, drenching him completely.

"There you go, I think it won't burn now, I feel I should have done that hours back, atleast you wouldn't be crying about it till now."

Steve closed his eyes, his palm flying to his face as he swiped his hand over his face. He knew that things were going to get murky now, and things had gotten out of hand, which is why his grip on Bucky's arm tightened. Bucky was seething, partly in rage, and partly due to a sudden flush of what he could only name as embarrassment, while Sam was openly smirking at what he had just witnessed.

A woman had managed to shut the Winter Soldier up, and how, with cold water right on his burns.

Today was a good day.

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#james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction

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sleeplessincairo · 4 years

Text

[ dating bucky barnes would include: ]

warnings: a somewhat vague sexual outline and a few cusses

///

Him walking around with a notebook everywhere. Bucky got the idea from Steve when he saw him writing new things to his modern day to-do-list, so Bucky decided to do the same except fill his notebook up with his old memories instead; anything he could remember from his life before being The Winter Soldier. At first, there were only a few pages filled but as his life starting to include domestic and mundane-as well as a healthy environment-activities, he started having spontaneous and soon-to-be-frequent flashbacks that, later on, contributed to dozens of notebooks filled with not The Winter Soldier, not Prisoner #56898, not White-Wolf, but James Buchanan Barnes.

You never mentioned the notebook to Bucky nor asked to read it-Bucky was a private person, and you understood and respected that-but you still started carrying a pen with you, just in case he ever needed one.

At first, the notebook(s) was/were filled with solely memories of his past-No matter how insignificant. Whether it was that time the toilet got clogged in his shabby little apartment and had to stay with Steve and Sarah Rogers for a week because he couldn't afford a plumber or that time he lost his shoe in bar brawl and some swanky chrome-dome gave him a few bucks to buy some shoes and a sock without a hole in it. He wrote everything his mind could clearly grasp. But as the two of you got closer, he started filling it with memories he had with/of you because-even if he would never admit it-you made him feel right at home.

You may or may not have stolen his dog tags from the Smithsonian museum just as a reminder that even after all the pain, despair, manipulation, and torture he still managed to be the good person he was all those years ago. He was still James Barnes, local heartthrob that volunteered at the soup kitchen during his free time, that fought a war and lost an arm during the process, that dreamt of flying cars and a future without all fights and wars, that had a soft spot for a certain trouble-attracting boy whose heart was too big for his body.

“Jesus doll, I didn’t know I was dating a thief.” “Oh James, I thought you’d already realized that when I stole your heart from right under your nose.”

Bucky’s not big on talking or directly verbally professing his love, but that’s okay; His eyes tell you everything. There was always something about Bucky’s eyes that were so mesmerizing, so captivating, you could instantly tell how he was feeling. Before you, his eyes resembled a pale arctic blue that were as cold as glaciers-His eyes were hollowed and empty, scratched raw from any emotion but your growing presence thawed them out, they warmed through the cold exterior of what was once The Winter Soldier and reminded you that the hottest fires burn blue.

He does, however, reference quite a few interesting slang choices from the 40′s, which is his own little way of demonstrating verbal affection, ranging from calling you ‘Doll’ & ‘Sweetheart’ to calling you ‘The Cat’s Meow’ & ‘Butter and Egg Fly’

He’s never been very invested in hygiene. It never really was something important for him since he was in the Army and BO was a pretty normal thing, and then he became The Winter Soldier and HYDRA never exactly gave him a bathtub-Not that he was in the right mindset to to care about it anyway-So you usually have to remind him to shower everyday-Not that you mind, it would usually end with the both of you showering together and you having the opportunity to wash his hair yourself.

Soon enough, Bucky gets real invested in hygiene, he starts reading about self-care routines, exfoliating, conditioning, and gets completely hooked. Secretly, he does it because he likes the routine, something mundane and fixed to do to keep him busy.

You’re the only one that gets to call him James. Something about the way you say it warms his heart, he’d focus completely on the way your mouth moves as you say it-It reminded him of the way his mother would say his full name before busting his chops about coming home all dirty but then later ruffling his thick hair and offering a plate of strawberry jam sandwhiches, or how the word was always lurking in the dark corners of his mind like the silhouette of a ghost he couldn’t seem to recognize until you brought it to life.

Him always reaching out for your hand when he feels out-of-place, outside, or honestly just all the time because it helps him feel secure and grounded.

Steve third wheeling the both of you all the time. No seriously, literally all the time. He spends more time in the apartment you and Bucky share more than his own to the point where you and Bucky wonder if he actually has one.

Steve has a key to your place-Even though, the both of you never gave him a key in the first place-and has a habit of interrupting the both of you or walking in on the worst possible moments.

“Hey guys, what are ya doi-Oh...Sorry I didn't know-Buck, you don't need to throw-Jesus, okay, okay I’m going.”

“Who the hell does it look like I’m doing, Steve.”

Bucky being very insecure about his arm, he even refuses to touch you with that arm-Subconsciously, he’s afraid he’ll accidentally hurt you. At first, he only ever wears long-sleeved shirts and a glove even on the hottest days as if he’d somehow forget that there was a metallic limb under all the cotton, but slowly like molasses he starts accepting it. He starts wearing open finger gloves, then discarding the gloves, then wearing 3-quarter sleeves, then short-sleeved shirts, then sleeveless shirts, then finally feeling comfortable enough to take off his shirt in front of you which leads to a night filled with discarded clothing, the sounds of soft murmurs and reassurances, the rolling of each other’s names off each other tongues like a prayer, and the rustling of the blanket against the delicate movement of your intertwined bodies skin-on-skin, skin-on-metal as the both of you unravel thread by thread in each other’s arms.

Truth is, you love his metal arm, you love the way it’s cool against your warm cheek on hot summer nights, you love the splashes of light that kiss it every morning making it sparkle, you love the soft and soothing whirring noises it lets out breaking the silence in your room, you love it because it’s a part of him and God knows how much you love everything about this man.

Despite being the assassin that killed JFK, managed to get away with it, and mind boggle conspiracists for decades he’s a bit clumsy. He has a habit of accidentally breaking things and later on, not telling you about it.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I thought I developed super strength-and even asked Stark to do some tests on me, but apparently you just happened to forget to mention and explain why the fuck doors are falling off their hinges!"

Losing sleep with Bucky. He tends to have very frequent and graphic nightmares which leads to various panic attacks and the inability to sleep, and you're more than happy to stay up with him and comfort him. Sometimes you’d talk while he listened and watched the way your lips moved or the way the pony tail you had gone to bed with loosened and hundreds of strands escaped the grasp of the hair band or the way a yawn would escape your lips and your hand would momentarily rise to cover your mouth but get lazy halfway, other times you’d lay in each other’s arms in complete silence while you traced patterns on his chest and trail kisses across his skin.

You being his anchor. You holding him tightly and assuring him that he’s okay, that you're here, that you're real, that he’s out, that he’s safe, and many other tender 3-worded sentences uttered over and over again like a mantra until he’s murmuring them back into your chest.

Sometimes, when he has really bad nightmares and panic attacks you grab his notebook and start reading the memories out loud while you lay his head on your lap and run your hand through his hair in a calming manner until he calms down. It soon becomes a regular thing where you read him a memory before he goes to bed like a bedtime story.

Bucky Barnes is a man who was tortured and tormented for years, a man whose life was ripped right from his very arms along with his very own arm, a man who has gone through a long and unforgettable journey where he has learned to cope, grow, accept, and embrace himself and now he’s made it his mission to encourage and help others to do the same, whether they're struggling with their sexuality, amputation, mental illness, gender, or general self-acceptance.

You educated him about women’s rights because things are a lot different then in the 1940s; women are no longer obligated to get married, cater to a man’s every whim, have children, and other traditional gender roles. At first, Bucky’s very confused and doesn't understand why feminism is so important-I mean, lets face it, Bucky was raised in a traditional society and was later on manipulated to being a bloodthirsty assassin and now suddenly, he can think on his own and his life has turned completely upside down from thinking his own thoughts without HYDRA around to thinking past social constructs and norms so its normal for him to be a bit weary. However, you're there to explain thoroughly about how unjust society still is and how women may have won a few battles but still have a war to fight in a society where they are hyper-sexualized, mistreated, and controlled, and Bucky immediately thinks of Peggy Carter and how the men used to catcall her, how they raked her body with inappropriate stares, how she was ignored and seen as a pretty face, and then he finally understands.

Dozens of articles about mysterious beatings of assaulters around New York.

His metal arm is decorated with dozens of pins, magnets, and stickers of all the movements he supports. Oh man, you should see him during Women’s marches and Pride fairs, considering all the black he usually wears seeing him dressed in bright colors or a pink shirt that says ‘On Wednesdays, we destroy the patriarchy’. It’s a sight that truly belongs in the history books.

Bucky breaking hold of the toxic masculinity he was subjected to in the 1940s and advocating for men to be able to display their God-given emotions freely, to not feel obligated to put on a tough guy front, to telling boys its okay to cry, to feel, to act, to wear, and to be whomever they please to be.

Bucky visiting youth centers and giving advice and support to the kids there. Every kid he meets reminds him of Steve, whether its in their stubbornness, taste for trouble, lostness, or the glimmer of potential he sees in every single one of them. He remembers every single name of the teenager he meets and later on, uses them as a mantra whenever he’s undergoing a panic or anxiety attack as well as use SHIELD’s equipment to check up on them every once in a while.

Bucky going to children’s hospitals every week to cheer up the little kids there. He ends up being quite the inspiration and their ‘Favorite Superhero’ for the kids with amputations there and they end up being one of the very few people who are allowed to touch his metal arm. Something about the way their eyes shine with hope and their hands melt at the feeling of the metal warms his heart and his insecurities.

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10 Things Borderlands 3 Doesn't Tell You

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10 Things Borderlands 3 Doesn't Tell You

Last Edited: September 13, 2019 at 1:05 AM

There’s a lot to take in and discover when playing Borderlands 3, and even returning fans may not realize several key elements to the game that aren’t explicitly told to you. We’ve rounded up several noteworthy mechanics and elements to Borderlands 3 that the game doesn’t outright tell you, which you can view below.

Dress for unlocked success.

When you start Borderlands 3, you’ll only be able to swap between two equipped weapons, and will only have access to a grenade and shield – so when does everything else unlock? Over the course of the game you’ll eventually get two more weapon slots, as well as Class Mods and Artifacts to equip as well. Depending on how fast your moving through areas, you may even start finding items you cant even equip yet.

These unlocks are tied to completing story quests, so here’s when you can expect to unlock them.

Your Third Weapon Slot will unlock after leaving Pandora for the first time, completing the Taking Flight and Sanctuary quests at are your 4th and 5th main missions.

Your Class Mod Slot will unlock after helping Rhys out on Promethea and defeating the boss and completing the quest Hostile Takeover, which is your 6th main mission.

Your Fourth Weapon Slot will unlock after completing the first vault mission in the main story, Beneath the Meridian, which is the 10th main mission.

Finally, your Artifact Slot will only unlock after taking on another Vault quest called Cold as the Grave, which is the 16th main mission.

The better question is: If that guy with the level 5 quest is offering level 5 loot, do we even want to help him at level 20?

As you journey across the stars in Borderlands, you’ll find out pretty early on that enemies will stick a certain level range when entering new areas and taking on missions. This means that – for the most part – if you pass on a side mission and go back later, you’ll likely find both the difficulty and rewards well below your level.

Similarly, if you dash on ahead through main missions as fast as you can, you may start encountering enemies well above your own level, and all the loot they drop may also be unavailable to equip until you can catch up, which can really suck!

Because of this, it’s worth your while to stop and smell the flowers – and by that we mean take on side missions, scope out challenges, and generally explore and do whatever you can before moving onto the next area. Certain side missions will appear in areas before or after completing a main mission in that area, so be sure to look around and make sure you don’t miss anything.

However, once you reach certain story beats that may return you to past areas, and when you beat the game, enemies in older zones will sometimes increase in difficulty to a certain point. Beyond this, enabling Mayhem Mode once you beat the game will automatically bring all enemies up to your level no matter the region to increase threat and rewards.

These chests will either have the best loot, or the worst loot depending on when you find them.

With regards to level-locked regions, it’s very important to note that both Red Chests (usually found after bosses or as bonus unlocked areas from side missions) as well as Typhon Dead Drops (crew challenges triangulated from finding recordings) are also locked to the region of that area (unless a region eventually upgrades over the course of the story).

For that reason you should always be exploring and looting chests in every region as you progress – as saving them for later will only lower the value of what’s inside 5 levels later.

However, Mayhem Mode changes this, as it will bring all the chests up to your level along with all other loot and enemies in the region. With Red Chests, you can re-open them each time you quit the game and start anew, while Typhon Dead Drops can only be looted once – so make sure you think hard about when you want to open these. If you miss your chance to get the best loot for your level, come back once you’ve beaten the game to unlock the other dead drops with Mayhem Mode enabled.

Fake it ’til you make it.

Once you start finding Class Mods on Promethea and beyond, you’ll notice that they will grant extra points in each of your three skill trees. The better the quality, the more skill points they’ll add to more skills.

It’s worth noting two things: A Class Mod can further enhance a skill that you’ve already maxed on the skill tree, which means you can boost the rate of damage or cooldowns and such beyond normal levels.

Secondly, even if you haven’t unlocked a skill yet, you don’t need to have a point in a skill for a Class Mod to give you that skills effects! Knowing this, you can essentially look for Class Mods to bolster skills in a tree you aren’t focusing on to give you an edge in multiple areas at once.

Challenge Unlocked – You Found the Challenge Tab

The menus of Borderlands can be…. difficult to navigate at times. Guardian Ranks have their own slot in your ECHO menu, and you can’t even check them out until you beat the game. They also take the place of where Challenges were in Borderlands 2 – but that doesn’t mean they are gone.

You may start noticing as you play that you’ll get notifications that challenges have been met, but they don’t appear to be tracked anywhere. If you look at your map, the Challenges Tab only tracks “Crew Challenges” which are side objectives to uncover in each area.

As it happens, the regular Challenges are hiding deep in the map menu. Hit the Orbit View until you are in the galaxy view of the map, and then click on the Challenges tab. Instead of Crew Challenges, you’ll finally see the Challenges you can unlock for killing certain types of enemies, with different weapons, or looting certain items.

Unlike Borderlands 2, Challenges in this game do not unlock bonus stats. Instead, you’ll get extra Eridium for each challenge met. Rank 1 will award 1 Eridium, Rank 2 will give 2, and so on until the challenge ranks are all met. Be sure to check your Challenges from time to time to unlock more Eridium, and use it to unlock exclusive rewards from Earl aboard the Sanctuary.

These purple rocks can be easy to miss.

As you explore Pandora an other planets, you’ll likely come across purple rocky mounds that look suspicously like Eridium – but hitting them with your melee attacks proves fruitless, at least for now.

It won’t be until much later in the game – you need to complete the 10th Mission: Beneath the Meridian – that you gain the ability to harvest Eridium Ore from the ground wherever you may find it, which can be extremely useful for amassing an Eridium horde. All you need to do once the upgrade is obtained is smash the purple rocks with melee attacks.

Aside from that, your best ways of finding more Eridium are killing (obviously), and taking a spin on the Slot Machines for small Edirium payouts. You can then use the Eridium to either take your chances on the Vault Line Slot Machine, or go see Earl at the bottom of the Sanctuary spaceship to buy special cosmetics and weapons in exchange for the currency.

Respecing your Skill Tree is easy when you’re broke!

Once you’ve gotten at least one skill point, and decide that skill you’ve invested in is complete trash – seek out a Quick Change Station, located at the entrance of most regions and in the Sanctuary Ship.

Here you can not only swap out costumes and skins (as well as renaming both your character and FL4K’s pets), but you can also reset all of your skill points to try building out a new style.

Of course, nothing is free in life – being able to respecialize your skills will cost a portion of your total money currently accumulated. A character with 29 thousand on hand will only have to pay just under 3 thousand to respect, while someone with 159k in their pocket will have to shell out 15k for a respec. It’s a bit like dying – you always have to pay a portion to get what you want.

Please don’t try to mail rocket launchers in real life.

It’s easy to miss, but at certain points in the game, you may get a notification that you’ve received mail. Wait, what? Mailboxes in the game only have ammo in them, so where do you check your personal mail?

Head to the options screen and look for the Social tab among the Options/Play/Quit. It’s here that you can skim through the different areas of the Social Menu to select your Mail, and obtain rewards given out by various NPCs in the game. Different gun manufacturers may give out presents when you’ve killed enough enemies with their weapons, and other characters may reward you with items as well when you achieve certain goals.

It’s important to note that because the Mail is in the Social Tab – it’s not tied to any one character – you’ll be able to accept the gifts on any character you’re playing as, even if they didn’t do all the groundwork to get the gift in the mail.

If you’ve got a list of friends also playing, you can even send weapons you’ve found to them via the mail, in case you scored a really good class mod when playing on your own that your friend might want.

6 million dollars and counting spent on slot machines – but still no row of hearts.

While Legendary Weapons are among the best you can get – they might not be the absolute best.

We haven’t yet found this elusive tier, you may notice that one of the slot machines in Moxxxi’s Bar has a payout for a “red tier” weapon, which is above the payout for the “orange tier” legendary weapon.

It is not yet known if these elusive red-tier weapons appear in the wild, or if they can only be obtained from the Slot Machines (or if the payout is actually a lie and you can’t even get it anyways), but be sure to keep a lookout – and try not to spend all your money gambling!

Though it doesn’t list it – each shot fired from the Peacemonger will split into four explosive rounds that hurtle in different directions.

When you begin recieving quest rewards and finding uncommon or better loot in the world, chances are you’ll notice many of these items will feature red flavor text in the gun’s stats. These range from jokes to quotes to very strange words, but they do have meaning.

Like previous Borderlands games, the Red Text is usually a hint at the hidden nature of a weapon – especially for Legendary Weapons. Sometimes the ability is straightforward – like being able to see bullets explode into smaller pieces or follow a strange trajectory. Other times the abilities may be much harder to decipher – so play around with weapon that feature red text to figure out what features a weapon or item may be hiding.

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Source : IGN

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