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winterarmyy · 2 days ago

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I Knew It Then

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: If it was supposed to be a casual thing, then why does it hurts so much?

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 4.8k++

Warnings: angsty, maybe a tad too angst. a bit fluffy, if you search for it, and everything in between. non-descriptive sex scene but definitely contain adult (18+) contents. so, reader discretion.

Inspiration: @buck-star asked in a community post, “The sentence is: 'And then we were standing in front of one another again…' How would you continue it?” and this is my answer.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Bucky adjusted the sleeves of his jacket; a dark leather, matching the gloves he was wearing. Underneath was a charcoal coloured shirt; his pants was dark-wash jeans, frayed slightly at the edges. It was an effort to blend into the festive sea of people. Despite the spring air of Central Park, his style remained a mixture of shadowed past and muted present, a mix that barely fit in with the brightness of the day.

The launch of the Avengers statues was a grand event; a reminder of battles fought, lives saved, a place for the public to show their gratitude and admiration. Honestly, in Bucky’s opinion, all of this was a little bit over the top. In which, Steve agreed. They both think that they were undeserving to be sculptured and displayed like this.

Even the Avengers are human, excluding Thor, they were mortals; unfit to be worshipped as they are now. Yet, after being coaxed with quite a diplomatic, exaggerating speech about how ‘the people need a hero to look up to’, Steve ended up convinced. Not that it matters, but Stark was the one who gave that speech.

Nonetheless, Bucky couldn’t really object to the decision, but he did stated that he will not participate in the event with the rest of the team. And they can’t really do much about that, forcing him to will be equivalent to kidnapping and Bucky had literally filed a police report for it before. So, they won’t take their chances.

The cheers and thundering of applause rippled through the park, filling every space with a strange blend of solemnity and celebration. Bucky lingered on the edge, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders tensed beneath the weight of too many eyes while his own focused on his team on the make-shift stage near the statues.

He preferred it here. No red carpets. No standing in front of flashing cameras with a smile that would never sit quite right on his lips.

With less aliens around and Hydra in hiding, this should have been a familiar scene; the Avengers posing and the people cheering. But for Bucky, the novelty had long worn off. The noise washed over him like waves lapping against a shore he couldn’t care to meet.

Shifting on his feet, his fingers brushing against the worn leather of his gloves, as if the urge to retreat was creeping under his skin. The cheers, the bright flashes of cameras, all blended into a muffled hum that made him wonder how soon he could slip away unnoticed.

Until he saw her.

She stood beneath the shade of a blooming cherry tree, the soft pink petals floating down around her as if nature itself wanted to frame her as a living art.

Y/N.

Bucky's breath was caught somewhere between inhaling and exhaling. Her mere presence had left him frozen. Then, the noise of the crowd slowly fading, the applause turning duller as his heart pounded in his chest, each beat harder, louder, until it drowned out the world around him. For a few painful moments, he felt as if his heart might force its way free from his ribcage, breaking him apart in the process.

She wore that sundress again. The light fabric swayed gently with each breeze, caressing her figure, the pastel colour that reminded him of the flowers he used to get for her. It was the same dress she’d worn that day; the day he realised falling for her wasn't a choice but a reality that had already happened. He swallowed hard, memories surging in torrents. Her laughter echoed in his ears, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about things that mattered to her.

Now however, beneath the sweet sundress and that familiar grace, there was a darkness under her eyes. Shadows etched into her delicate skin, sadness lingering; still and silent, behind the gaze that once held nothing but warmth. Bucky's jaw tightened as he took it all in, every unspoken truth laid bare on her face. He knew why; he’d heard whispers through mutual acquaintances. About the heaviness she tried to mask, about the pain she tried to live through.

Seeing it now, in the flesh, was so much worse.

It broke him.

Again. His chest ached, a raw wound ripped within his chest; for every moment she suffered and every part of him that couldn’t fix it. Bucky wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. It was as if an invisible vine had him rooted on earth, willing him to witness the toll their separation had taken on her. How ironic, he thought bitterly. For someone once considered a ghost by the world, he was all too aware of how haunting it felt to see her pain in living colour.

The bar had been crowded that night when they met, laughter and music clashing together in a storm of contagious intoxication. Bucky found his usual spot in the corner, however unusually alone this time. His shoulders hunched beneath his leather jacket; his gloved hands nursed a drink he wasn’t truly interested in. He was simply another brooding man in a bar, trying to swallow his own bitterness, trying to forget. Elena’s words, his ex’s words, echoed in his mind; taunting and cold, leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.

“Mind if I sit?”

Her voice cut through the noise. He’d looked up, barely masking his surprise. The woman standing before him was... a force of nature. She didn’t wait for his permission and slid into the seat beside him, a confident smile tugging at her lips.

She was so bright, so unapologetically there.

It almost felt disorienting. Her eyes sparkled like she’d already decided he was interesting and wasn’t about to change her mind. “You always brood like this, or is it a special occasion?” she teased, tilting her head.

“Special occasion,” he replied dryly, a hint of sarcasm colouring his tone. “Guess I’m lucky, huh?”

She laughed, loud and unfiltered, drawing curious looks. “I’ll drink to that,” she said, raising her glass to him as if they were old friends sharing a private joke.

Bucky fought to suppress the twitch of his lips. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. “What brings you to this fine establishment?” he asked, his voice flat but not harsh. “Looking to rescue sad souls like me?”

“Rescue?” She leaned in, eyes dancing with mischief. “Please. I’m here for the entertainment value.”

“Brutal,” he said, but he couldn’t help it; the corner of his mouth lifted. A real smile was threatening to form.

Y/N, as she introduced herself a few moments later, was a whirlwind of honesty and charm. She spoke without hesitation, as if every thought had a right to be voiced. She teased him about the gloves he refused to take off, made a biting but hilarious comment about her friend’s taste in men as she watched her and the man grinding it on the dance floor, and then, out of nowhere, zeroed in on him.

She gestured to his drink. “Let me guess. Your ex. She, or he, I don’t judge…” A tiniest smile curved on the corner of his lips. “She.” he clarified which was replied with a glint of interest in Y/N’s eyes. She nodded, “Okay, she left you for someone who didn’t know how to brood so attractively.”

Bucky choked on his drink, laughter erupting before he could help himself. It was warm and a little bashful, completely genuine. He hadn’t laughed like that in... he couldn’t remember how long.

Y/N was not expecting much tonight. She was literally dragged by her friends to ’go out, meet people, get laid’. Truthfully, she wasn’t really expecting anything more than a few hours of banter and maybe some fleeting connection, just enough to make her smile. Witty remarks, a few drinks, teasing anyone interesting enough to engage; that was her aim.

But when she saw him, brooding in his corner, a storm trapped beneath layers of leather and cold eyes, curiosity overtook reason. She wanted to know if he would entertain her.

And he did.

Bucky or as he introduced himself, James, was sarcasm wrapped in shadows, his words carrying a sharpness that wasn’t meant to hurt, just to deflect. She found it oddly endearing, a defence mechanism she recognized all too well. She wanted to pull more from him, so she leaned in, laughed too loudly, pressed buttons she guessed would make him react.

At first, it was just fun.

But then he smiled. God, when he smiled, her world tilted; much against her will too. It was like the first hint of sunlight breaking through a dense, dark cloud. His laughter was warm and unpracticed, spilling out of him as if it surprised him too. The moment stretched, just for a heartbeat, but it was enough.

Her heart momentarily shuddered. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks, blooming a soft pink she couldn’t hide. So, she covered it with more wit, more charm, desperate to keep that smile there a second longer.

“I’m kidding. Kind of,” she said, eyes softening as she studied him. “But seriously, imagine missing out on you. That’s just sad at this point.”

But underneath the humour, there was a flutter of something much profound. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Her heartbeat raced and she felt exposed. How ridiculous, she thought, to be undone by a smile; a real one, genuine and imperfect, just as raw as her own attempt to draw it out.

The concept of time blurred after that. Drinks flowed, words tumbled out like secrets they didn’t know they were sharing. Banter turned into stories, laughter into pauses that spoke louder than the music blaring around them. At some point, she reached for his hand, not caring that it was gloved or why. Her fingers lingered, hesitant for half a breath, before resting there as if they’d been doing so for years.

The air thickened and inches shrink.

When he kissed her, she found herself kissing him back with a need she hadn’t recognized before. It wasn’t about filling the void; at least, not only that. It was about the way he leaned into her touch, how he kissed like it was the last act that could hold him together. It was raw and open and imperfect and she was high on it.

Despite the fleeting, breath-stealing kisses they shared prior, Bucky had only meant to see her safely to her home. That was the plan, the line he swore he wouldn’t cross. But when her lips met his again just outside her apartment, everything unravelled. Her kiss was insistent, needy in a way that mirrored the ache deep inside him. She pulled him in, the door closing behind them, shutting out the world and any remnants of restraint he had left.

They stumbled to the bed, still fully dressed, every touch and kiss growing more urgent. Her hands found the edges of his jacket, fingers seeking to peel it away. But when she tugged, he pulled back, his breaths ragged. “Wait,” he murmured, eyes cast down. His hesitation was a stark contrast to the flames between them moments before.

She paused immediately, her gaze softening. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was gentle, careful not to push too hard but unwilling to let him slip away either.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he said, the words thick, heavy.

A crease formed between her brows. “What? Your name is not James?”

The question, so genuine and earnest, pulled a laugh from him; short, almost incredulous. “No. I am James, but…” He ran a gloved hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes.

“But…?” she prompted, leaning in, her attention unwavering.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” he said, each syllable weighted.

For a moment, she was silent. He could see her piecing it together, searching for the meaning behind his words. Then understanding dawned, slow and certain. “You’re…” she began, just as he said, “The Winter Soldier.” But what came from her lips was, “The Avenger.”

They stared at each other, the tension snapping into something fragile, almost surreal. “What?” they both said in unison, the word a mix of disbelief and irony.

The absurdity of it cracked something inside him, and he laughed; a real, deep laugh that felt like a release. She joined him, their laughter intertwining in a way that felt like a mutual understanding. At the moment, Bucky realised that she didn’t flinch or shrink back. She met him where he was, without hesitation. He felt a pull; unsettling but oddly comforting; and, for a split second, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be different.

The humour melted into something more intense as she leaned closer, her hands found his again. “I want this, James,” she whispered, peeling away his glove. She cupped his cool, metal hand, pressing his palm against her cheek. The contrast of warmth against vibranium made his chest tighten. “I want you.” she spoke almost breathlessly; her eyes gazed up at him with an endearing plea.

His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and something much softer, “I want you too,” he said, his voice low, unguarded.

They moved together, shedding barriers with every kiss and touch. When their clothes finally fell away, they explored each other with as much urgency and wonder. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, almost desperate. He wanted to memorise her reactions. He wanted to give as much as he could.

It was raw and consuming, a night spent discovering each other. There was nothing mechanical, nothing detached. For hours, it was just them, bodies moving in unison and their moans and groans of pleasure mingling in a symphony that can challenge a siren’s song.

He found himself lost in her, in the way her skin felt beneath his, in the way she moaned for him. He couldn’t hold back, not when she responded to him with such hunger, her body moving against his with a need that matched his own.

Every touch felt like a revelation, a new discovery, and he was pulled deeper into her, into the warmth and the rawness of the moment. It was as if time itself had stopped, and all that mattered was the heat of their connection.

When morning came, the light creeping in through the blinds, they lay bashfully, tangled in the sheets. For a few moments, there was only silence, a comfortable quiet punctuated by the slow return of reality. He turned to her, the words were heavy, he knew it, but he continued, “I’m not ready for… anything serious,” he admitted, hating the way it sounded, but knowing he owed her the truth.

She met his gaze, her expression soft and understanding. “That’s okay,” she said. “We don’t need to label it. It can be what it is.”

“Casual?” he asked, a hint of humour back in his voice.

She smiled, a touch of mischief in her eyes. “Casual.”

They both laughed, the sound soft and real. Whatever this was, for now, it was enough.

The next few months, their ‘casual’ arrangement became something she thought about far too often and yet tried to pretend wasn’t pressing too deep. The sex was undeniably great, almost maddeningly so. It wasn’t just the way he touched her, though that alone was enough to steal her breath; the careful, deliberate caresses that made her feel cherished and desired all at once.

It was the way he explored her as if every inch of her, the weight of his attention, the way he moved with a mix of tenderness and hunger, as if he couldn’t decide whether to worship her or devour her. And maybe that was why it was so intoxicating; because she was falling for him, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

It wasn’t just the physical connection; it was everything in between. She fell for the way he could be painfully serious one moment and then crack the most unexpected joke, a hint of dry humour lighting up his eyes. She fell for the way he made sure her tea was always brewed just the way she liked, even though he claimed to be terrible at domestic things.

She fell for his unspoken kindness; the way he would slip a blanket over her when she fell asleep on the couch, or his habit of standing protectively between her and crowded places without even thinking about it. It was all so subtle, so Bucky, and it deteriorated her defences bit by bit.

And Bucky on the other hand, tried not to let himself be too vulnerable around her. But Y/N had a warmth that made it hard for him to stay closed off. She didn’t push; she was just; a steady, comforting presence that felt like safety. Sometimes, without meaning to, he’d spill pieces of himself.

Like the night he told her about Elena; the betrayal, the gaslighting on how she cheated on him because of him; it was his trauma and depression that had driven her away. As if she was trying to make it worse, as if she had a vendetta to isolate him from everyone else.

And Y/N had listened without judgement, her eyes soft with compassion. “That’s not on you,” she had whispered, her hand covering his. “She was the problem, not you.” When the weight of his past grew too heavy, she was there.

And when she opened up about her own scars; the ex who wouldn’t leave her alone, the fear that lingered in the shadows; Bucky listened, fierce protectiveness hardening his features. That night, instead of touching each other’s body, they caressed each other’s innermost scars. They’d talk late into the night; their words heavy, but never too much for the other to bear.

And ever since their dynamic was a shifting dance, effortlessly dirty and playful one minute, his lips teasing at her neck, their words to each other were dripping with sin. The next, they’d be soft and tender, his forehead pressed to hers as they simply breathed together. And then there were the quiet, deep moments; when silence spoke more than words, and they found comfort just in being close, in the simple act of not being alone.

It was everything, all tangled together, and it made it so easy, too damn easy, to fall in love with him. She knew she shouldn’t, but with Bucky, it felt inevitable.

Then, one in those blissful days, after another night of incredible sex, Bucky laid beside her, his chest still heavy with the aftermath of their intimacy. His eyes traced the soft curves of her form as she rested, her skin glowing in the dim light.

She looked almost ethereal; untouchable, like something too perfect for him. The weight of her presence next to him was both comforting and painful, tightening his chest with a longing he couldn’t name. Shifting slightly, he cleared his throat, his voice rough when he finally spoke, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I’m going back to Elena,” he confessed, the statement hanging heavily in the air.

For a moment, there was something in his eyes; a flicker of hesitation, of conflict, as if he desperately wanted to hold onto what they had, as if saying the words was a battle he was losing with every breath.

But whatever war raged within him never fully translated in the way she saw him. To Y/N, his words felt resolute, laced with a kind of tenderness that made it hurt even more. He seemed sorry; deeply, genuinely. But the weight of his decision pressed down between them, undeniable.

She went still for a moment and he could feel the tension radiating from her. The way her body seemed to freeze, her breath caught in her throat. She didn’t respond at first, her gaze distant, focusing somewhere far away as though she needed a moment to process. Bucky’s chest felt heavy with the weight of his own words, the urge to take them back gnawing at him.

Yet he kept his expression neutral, as if none of this hurt him. He needed to see this through, even if every second felt like he was tearing himself apart. “This…being here with you, touching you like this… this will be the last time,” he added, the sound of his voice was low but remained adamant.

Y/N had always known, somewhere deep down, that this day would come. They had both agreed that what they had was casual, temporary, nothing more than a passing thing. They had agreed their connection was fleeting; simply a series of borrowed moments. But even as she tried to convince herself it was fine, she knew better.

Nothing about what they shared was truly casual. They’d been there for each other in ways no one else had. When the world had been cruel to him, scrutinising him for his past as the Winter Soldier, she’d been his quiet strength, the one who never judged him, never flinched. And when her own demons resurfaced, casting shadows over her life; he’d been the one there, standing between her and her doom. He had been her rock, just as she had been his.

They were each other's strength, each other's solace.

'Has it ever really been casual?' But she couldn’t voice those thoughts. She wouldn’t burden him with her feelings when he already carried so much of his own. She wouldn’t beg for more than he could offer.

With a soft breath, she forced herself to smile, her fingers brushing over his cheek, committing every moment to memory before it slipped away. “Will this make you happy?” she asked, her voice steady, though pain lingered beneath the surface.

Bucky’s heart twisted, but he nodded, the lie coming too easily. “Yes,” he said, his voice lacking conviction even as he tried to seem sure. He averted his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t see past the facade.

Her smile wavered, but she fought to hold it in place. She wanted to show him that she was fine, that she wasn’t falling apart. But as she pressed her smile into place, a single tear slipped from her eye, tracing a quiet path down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, but it was already there; a silent confession of the pain he couldn’t see.

“Then, I guess this is goodbye,” she whispered, barely audible.

She leaned in, her forehead resting against his, her breath warm against his lips. And then she kissed him; softly, deeply, as if it would be their last.

Because, in this moment, it felt like it was.

The days blurred into weeks, and then months, each one dragging by with a dull ache that Y/N couldn’t shake. She buried herself in work, refusing to let her mind linger on what she’d lost. When that wasn't enough, she picked up freelance gigs; anything that kept her mind too occupied even thought about pain and the aching emptiness Bucky’s absence had left behind.

It was easier that way; easier to drown in deadlines and endless to-do lists than to confront the hollowness. And through all this time, there were not a single call, or texts from Bucky. Just silence. Rationally, she knew it was for the best. He was a hero, after all; his life pulled him in a thousand different directions. And she told herself she was fine.

But late at night, when the world grew quiet, she could still feel it; the loss that crept into her bones and refused to let go. Most of the time, she'd catch herself staring at the ceiling, replaying the touch of his hand, the sound of his laughter, the way he had looked at her as if she were his whole world, even if just for a moment. She tried to shake it off, to convince herself that it was all just an illusion, but the hole in her chest ached too deeply to ignore.

Time passed. The headlines told of his deeds; how he saved countless lives, how the public finally began to accept him, to see him not just as a relic of violence and pain, but as a hero. She should’ve felt proud. Maybe, on some level, she did. But every article, every broadcast, every mention of him only twisted the knife deeper.

At times, she’d pause whatever she was doing when his name flashed across the screen. It was a reflex, a sudden, uncontrollable urge to reach for something she could never have. She’d feel her chest tighten, her emotions were a blend of pride and pain. Why did she feel like this, like she wasn’t needed, like she was somehow unwanted by the man who had once looked at her like she was everything?

Even then, she couldn’t help but feel proud. No matter how much it hurts, she was happy for him. She remembered the sleepless nights when his past came alive in nightmares; when he’d thrash and murmur apologies with a voice cracked by guilt. She could still feel the weight of him in her arms as he clung to her in the dark, his breath shuddering against her neck, whispering, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” The memory of it made her chest ache; the rawness of his pain had always cut her deep, but it had also made her want to be his safe place, his haven.

She thought of those nights often. The way he’d hold her as if she were a shield against the ghosts that hunted him, how he’d bury his face in her shoulder to block out the world’s judgement. She’d whispered reassurances, stroked his hair, and wished she could take away every ounce of his pain. Seeing him now, standing tall, saving lives, and slowly being accepted by the world; it filled her with a bittersweet pride.

He deserved every bit of recognition, every chance to rebuild himself.

But the cost of that pride was the deep loneliness that came with it; the reminder that he was out there saving the world while she was left to save herself from missing him. She wanted to be enough, to be the one he leaned on, but it was clear now that his path led somewhere she couldn’t follow. So she pushed forward, forced herself to be strong, and told herself that being happy for him was enough.

When the crowd at the Central Park continued to roar with excitement, time seemed like it stopped for Bucky and Y/N. And then they were standing in front of one another again, the air between them held a weight, as if every word left unspoken all those nights was pressing against the space between them. Bucky’s eyes flickered; momentarily shocked, yet he didn’t falter.

Even then, Y/N saw it. She saw the look in his eyes that she knew too well, the look he had when it was just them, wrapped up in stolen hours that no one knew about. She forced a smile, warm and soft, the very same that she used to give him in those silent times, when their skins were pressed against each other, and everything else didn't matter.

His heart ached with a need he thought he’d buried. He thought he had let her go. He kept telling himself he was not in love, that she was just someone to keep his bed warm, to fill the empty space his past had left behind. At least, that was what he told himself, over and over, like a mantra meant to dull the edges of the truth.

But deep down, he knew it was a lie; a desperate deception crafted to shield him from the vulnerability clawing at his walls. He was not fooling anyone, not himself at least. Each night he spent denying the way his pulse quickened at the thought of her touch, each time he claimed he felt nothing, the thin layer of defence cracked beneath the weight of untold longing. It was easier to lie, to pretend he didn’t care, than to face the reality that she had carved her place inside him, far deeper than he wanted to admit.

Now, seeing her again, smiling at him as if it didn't shatter her heart when he left, it was like he’d been hollowed out.

And the time that seemingly stopped, abruptly resumed to its pace when they walked past each other. No words crossed their lips, but their eyes spoke a language that was theirs alone; a language that carried echoes of every touch, every laugh, every shared moment.

‘I miss you,’ their gazes whispered, even as the distance between them widened with each step.

They kept walking.

That night, Bucky found himself in front of her apartment. When she opened the door, it was as if she was expecting someone. Not him, but someone. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him standing there, broad shoulders taut and expression unreadable.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The sight of her; dressed in a fitted dress that draped elegantly over her figure, accentuating every line and curve, stole the air from his lungs. It was the kind of dress she used to wear when they’d go out on a date, the kind that never failed to send his thoughts swirling in the gutter. No thoughts, just lust.

She looked stunning. Ethereal even. But, painfully out of reach.

Y/N blinked. Shock, confusion, and hurt flashing in her eyes, as if the memories of what they’d had; and how it ended, came crashing back all at once. “Hey… James. What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice tight and Bucky was never used to it.

He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting to her lips and lingering there longer than he intended. “Out for a date?” he murmured, evading her question, the words tasting like lead.

“Yeah…Kind of.” she replied, guarded. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unsaid things. Finally, he spoke again, his voice a low rasp. “Can I come in?”

She studied him warily, the hurt in her eyes morphing into something sharper. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, James.”

“Please,” he said, and the desperation in his tone softened her resolve just enough. She stepped aside reluctantly. “You gotta be quick,” she said, almost dismissively. “Josh is on the way.”

The mention of another man’s name was like a knife twisting in his chest. Bucky forced himself to stay still, to not let his expression betray him, but inside, he felt raw, the bitterness coiling deep.

Once inside, she crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive barrier between them. “Talk,” she said flatly.

He paced, trying to find the words. “It wasn’t real,” he started, voice thick. “Me and Elena getting back together; it was a mission. She was suspected of being a mole.” he paused as he studied her reaction, ” We couldn’t risk telling you. We had to make it look real. ”

She stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief, as if trying to grasp the whirlwind of his sudden appearance. “You’re here for that? To explain yourself?” There was incredulity in her voice, mingled with raw, exhausted pain that came from reopening old wounds.

“Yes.” Bucky’s voice was firm but edged with something close to desperation. “We managed to capture her.” He took a deep breath, his gaze searching hers. “We had to keep the mission under wraps, Y/N. We couldn’t risk word getting out… not after what happened with S.H.I.E.L.D. We couldn’t have another Hydra situation, or anything that even looked like it.”

He paused, the tension in his jaw tightening. “It turns out her plan was to isolate me. To make me even more vulnerable than I already am, before they…” His words faltered, heavy and incomplete, as if finishing the sentence would make it all too real.

But he didn’t need to say more. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, the realisation clear in her expression. She was smart; too smart not to piece it together. She knew what Bucky feared most. He’d be dragged back into Hydra’s grasp, or worse, used as a pawn by some other twisted organisation.

It was a fate too cruel to name, and he could see in her eyes that she already understood.

Her brow furrowed, processing everything Bucky had explained thus far. A mixture of confusion and anger flitting across her features. “So that was it?” she demanded. “I was just collateral damage?”

“No,” he said quickly, the word breaking from him like a plea. “No. It wasn’t like that. I wanted to protect you. We all did.” He hesitated, voice dropping to a rough whisper. “I did.”

She scoffed, a bitter edge cutting through her words. “Unbelievable. I smiled at you one time, James—one time—and you think you can just come back into my life like you own it?”

The accusation hung between them, and the depth of her frustration was like a dam bursting. He recoiled slightly, horrified by the thought that he’d hurt her so deeply. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “That’s not what this is. I didn’t want to just—”

She cut him off with a sharp, biting word. “Bullshit!” The accusation hit him like a physical blow, but he pressed on, desperation bleeding into his tone. “I just wanted to tell you the truth,” he said, his voice tight with urgency. “That it was all fake.”

“Fake?” She echoed the word with a harsh, bitter laugh that rang with disbelief. It stung him, sharp as a slap across the face. “It looked pretty damn real to me, James. You don’t think I saw the pictures? The headlines? How you were with her?”

“It was a cover, Y/N. I didn’t have a choice.”

Her eyes flashed, anger and betrayal burning bright. She took a step toward him, as if the weight of her hurt couldn’t be contained. “You didn’t have a choice? You had a choice when you came to me, when you told me it was over. When you ripped my heart out, did you have a choice then?”

Bucky flinched, the impact of her words like a physical blow, but he held his ground. “I was trying to protect you.”

“By hurting me?” Her voice cracked, raw and trembling. “By tearing me apart?”

Silence crashed over them, heavy and suffocating. Her chest heaved, each breath ragged. “By leaving me behind?” she whispered, her words dripping with the weight of every unspoken wound. “By pretending like what we had meant nothing?”

He stepped closer, the space between them suffocating and electric. “It wasn’t nothing,” he said, his voice quivering. “It was everything. You were everything.”

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks unchecked. “I don’t believe you.”

With a trembling hand, Bucky reached for her face, cupping her cheeks as though she were something fragile. His thumb brushed away her tears, his touch reverent, aching. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathed, the confession breaking through the dam of his restraint. “From the start, when we laughed about that ridiculous introduction; me, calling myself the Winter Soldier and you insisting I was an Avenger—I knew it then.”

He swallowed hard, blinking through tears. “But it wasn’t just that. It was how you saw me; not the killer, not the broken man, but me. The way you’d smile at me, like I was worth something. The nights you stayed awake, holding me when I couldn’t breathe, when the nightmares felt too real. The way you’d whisper that I wasn’t alone. No one ever did that for me. No one.”

He paused, the rawness in his expression deepening. “I knew it was too late when I realized I’d been in love with you for a while. It hit me that day at Sally’s, remember?” His voice grew softer, distant with memory. “It was spring. You wore that sundress you bragged about getting for next to nothing at a thrift store. The sunlight made your hair glow, and you laughed at something ridiculous; a dog chasing bubbles, I think. I couldn’t stop looking at you. It wasn’t just the dress or the moment. It was the way you made everything feel… lighter. Like I could breathe again. Like the past didn’t own me.”

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb tracing along her jawline. “I realized then that I was in deep. That it was more than just a moment. And it terrified me, because I thought I’d ruin it. Ruin you.” His voice cracked, weighted with a mix of love and regret.

His shoulders shook as he let out a ragged breath, the tears spilling over. “It’s the way you laugh, the way you fight for everyone you care about. How you make me feel like I’m more than my past… God, I tried so hard to keep you safe. Even if it meant pushing you away. But it killed me, Y/N. Every day.”

She stared at him, stunned and raw, her own tears falling. His hands cradled her face gently, his touch trembling. “I love you,” he said again, more desperately. “I love you for every moment you gave me hope when I thought I couldn’t be saved. I love you for being there, even when I didn’t deserve it. And I don’t want to lose you again.”

He leaned in, their faces inches apart, his tears mixing with hers as he whispered, “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her, feeling the sincerity in every broken syllable. For a heartbeat, it seemed she would turn away. But then, her voice cracked, trembling with everything she’d buried. “I love you too,” she breathed, voice shaking. “I never stopped.”

His forehead touched hers, their breaths mingling, raw and vulnerable. Slowly, their lips met, soft at first, then deeper, a kiss that spoke of everything they had denied and everything they still longed for. In each other’s touch, everything else faded, leaving only the truth between them.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: i was planning to do a descriptive smut scene at first, but after piecing everything from my draft and re-reading the overall flow, i don't think it's suitable to include it in this. perhaps another time, a side/extra story maybe. i hope y'all okay with that and enjoy your reading 🥺

#bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader angst #bucky x reader smut #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes smut #avenger!bucky

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sweetbunpura · 2 days ago

Note

After stepping out of Jungleheart Rollo and Savanaclaw sighs

Round 4!

Round 1 - Round 2 - Round 3

Aqualetta

Before anyone even had the ability to ask what happened, Leona shuts them all up.

"She's not there, she's in Aqualetta."

Floyd let out a loud groan. "I don't wanna go there!"

Jade fought to keep his face neutral while Azul adjusted his glasses to hide his grimace.

"Of all the places to be..." He muttered and made his way towards the doorway with a emblem of a singing mermaid on it. "If we're lucky, she'll be in here. Jade, Floyd, and you too, Rollo-san."

Floyd basically dragged his feet as they entered the portal. The sound of seagulls calling and a warm sea breeze hit Rollo as they appeared in the entrance of the dorm. A seaside "town" surrounded the portal and Rollo could see several Aqualetta members milling about in the town square.

"Welcome to Aqualette. Now let's go before they spot us."

Rollo turned his head to see the trio already making their way towards the castle like structure ahead. He quickly followed them as they decided down the white stairs.

"Ahhhhh~" Floyd placed his arms behind his head and turned to look at Rollo. "Why didn't you keep an eye out for Shrimpy, Snapping Turtle?"

Rollo semi-glared at him. "If you recall, I was busying continuing with my community service. I didn't have a chance to call and ask where she was."

"Mmmm, sounds like an excuse."

"You-"

"Now, now." Jade interrupted. "We all know Miss Yuu is quite hard to get a hold of. So it only makes sense that he would lose her."

Rollo bristled. "You nefarious-"

"I don't need my headache to morph into a migraine." Azul sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, please settle down."

"Alright/Yes, Azul."

They reached the end of the steps and spotted a red haired man talking to a long haired man with light brown skin.

"Oh, there they are!" The long haired man waved to them. "Hello!"

The group paused as the red head turned to face them with shining aqua-blue eyes and a wide smile. Immediately, Rollo saw the three of them flinch and their shoulders drop as the red head approached them.

"Azul! Oh, it's actually you!"

"Hello, Rielle..."

Rielle circled the three mermen. "Jade and Floyd as well! Nanu! Nanu! These are the guys I was telling you about!"

Rollo moved off to the side as he spotted the grimaces on the mermen faces. This Rielle must be a character in order to get even Jade to make a face at him. Nanu laughed as he approached the man.

"Rielle, by the seven, you still do not seem capable of understanding personal space." Azul grumbled.

"Aw, but last time I had seen you, you were a chubby octopus!" He smiles as Azul freezes. "I'm so proud of you for working it off though!"

"I'm sorry about Rielle. He's been excitable ever since he heard Pua's stories about them." He sticks out his hand to Rollo. "Name's Nanu Coulette, I'm the vice leader here!"

Rollo looked at his hand and shook it, only to jolt at Nanu's strong grip as he shook their hands up and down. He let go and the gray haired man fought to keep from wincing.

"Rielle, come." Nanu pulled him back effortlessly.

"Listen, we came here looking for Shrimpy." Floyd growled. "Is she here or not?"

The dorm and vice frowned and shook their heads.

"She was here earlier." Rielle spoke. "Chen'ya had to leave, so she stayed with us...until Riley came over and invited her to Potential."

Floyd let out a low growl as Jade turned to look at Rollo.

"Forgive me for being so blunt, but have you not thought to call her at any given moment?" Rollo saw Jade's eye twitch.

In all honesty, he hadn't thought to call her due to the chaos of everything and before he could even think of pulling out his phone, Nanu answered.

"Oh, uh, she won't be able to answer."

The air crew cold as four sets of eyes glared menacingly at the vice, who raised his hands up.

"Hey, hey! Chen'ya kept putting in the wrong password and it locked her out for a while. No need to be hostile."

"It's that's all," Jade pulls on the back of Floyd and Azul's jackets before either of them have a chance to throttle Nanu. "We'll be taking our leave then. Goodbye."

The NRC boys departed for the portal before the RSA students could say anything.

"...What does Pua mean?"

"He called her Flower." Floyd asks with a monotone voice.

Rollo was going to strangle the next person to give her a nickname.

#twisted wonderland #rescue from RSA #rollo flamme #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #twst oc #rsa oc #twst rsa #twst fic #thorn answers

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mr-ys-phantasma · 6 hours ago

Text

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1312

Chapter 37:

When you walked into the Iron Maiden and climbed the first two steps, you did not expect to hear Jen shouting for anyone other than herself.

"Lilla! Lilia!"

Her shouts echoed across the stone walls, and you let Agatha continue up ahead as you turned and chose to check what was going in.

Yet when you found her hitting her fists against a dirt wall, shouting the name of a certain witch that was not amongst you... you realized.

Your lips pressed against one another, forming a flat line and momentarily you closed your eyes; offering a silent prayer and a moment of respectful peace for the brave witch.

Lilia was not close to you, and the way she often stared at you made you keep your distance from her. But in the end, she cared for the coven; more than anyone.

In the end, she sacrificed herself so the rest of you could move forward; one trial closer in reaching the end of the road and the much needed prize.

A prize, one would start questioning if it was worth it, after all the mental and physical torture... and the losses.

Jen needed a moment to recover, tears being wiped by the back of her hand before she sat down by the steps; trying to process yet another loss.

One that she truly felt this time.

Teen joined her while you stood close. You could have left them behind, go find Agatha, but you chose not to. They needed to mourn, to process everything before being able to continue.

Agatha would be fine, for she was not stupid enough to walk away. Yet you could not help but have this feeling... that something was not right.

"Rio." Jen started, unsure where to start. "Green Witch with a capital G. She told us who she was in the very beginning." She continued, earning Billy's attention, who was not catching up.

"Green Craft is about the cycle of all living things. Growth and decay in constant flow." You chose to enlighten him, leaning against the stone wall with hands folded in front of your chest.

At least you were out of that dress, which was perhaps the only positive thing you could think of right now. That and the fact that you were alive, one trial closer in getting out of this helish road.

Billy looked at you, not surprised you knew. He had come to realise, with your past related to Agatha, that you knew far more than the rest of the coven members.

"So Agatha's ex is Death." He concluded, trying to wrap his head around the idea that death was a woman; one capable of faling in love from the looks of it. "Well, one of her exes." he looked at you again.

You kept your lips pressed to one another. "Pretty much,"

"That makes sense," he commuted. Somehow, it did make sense; though by now, he did question his sanity and mind.

"You knew, didn't you?" Jen asked next, her gaze on your form.

This time, though, she was too tired to judge. Too tired to throw any sparky remarks. She just wanted some more answers. She deserved to know after all the trials she had been through with the coven.

You sighed. "I did."

"And you didn't tell us."

In honour of her grief and Lilia's sacrifice, you chose not to react to her words. "You didn't ask me, not her, not anyone," you replied calmly.

It was Jen's turn to sigh. "No, we didn't." she placed the back of her head against the wall.

Silence enveloped the group of three, no one truly knowing what to say. Some were even hesitant to move, trying to savour as much as they could, this little moment of peace.

Who knew what they would face next? How quick will the next trial come meet them?

As you three sat there, it was then that your fellow witches took notice that someone was missing.

"Where is Agatha?" Jen questioned, looking around but finding no sign of the magicless witch.

"Up ahead. She should be waiting for us, " you informed, one thumb pointing over your shoulder towards the way the steps were leading.

Jen scoffed. "Yeah, right?"

"She knows alone won't do her any good in the trials," you reminded Jen as you offered your hand to pull her up on your feet. "The Road needs us together. It's the only way."

Defeated, she accepted your hand and let you pull her up; surprised by your strength. You definitely did not look that strong...and yet again, you did not look a lot of things if she were to be frank.

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

The Path led you back to the forest, unsure if it was the same place you had started of further down the Road. Everything looked the same, but you did not trail back to question. There was no need.

As you three walked in a line, you could not help but start a conversation. Though the topic was not much to your liking.

"I mean, how did they even meet?" Billy wondered.

"Um, over corpses, I imagine." Jen answered before the duo looked at you.

You sighed. "I am afraid you are asking the wrong witch," you confessed.

"But you were first, right? You knew Agatha before Rio, didn't you?" She asked you next, remembering what Evanora's ghost was saying in the cabin.

Though Jen was still puzzled by that interaction. Evanora hated you, and Jen suspected it was because you had chosen Agatha in the end. But something was telling her there was something more.

Pieces of your puzzle were missing, making it harder to get a good image of who you truly are and what your past is.

"I was," you answered simply, clearly not wishing to continue this discussion.

It was not easy for you either. Your feelings mixed about the topic and you needed time, to finally make a decision about it... to make peace with it.

"You must have really hurt her if her next ex ended up being Death itself."

You took a deep breath at Jen's words. You had chosen not to react so far, simply as a respect to her grief, but even you had limits to your patience.

Billy took notice, and he did not really like how that topic had changed to focus on you and your rather cryptic relationship with Agatha.

And it was not right talking about Agatha behind her back, as if she was not going to show up any time soon.

"Well... I don't care," he joined the conversation. "It simply shows more proof that Agatha has feelings."

His words made you smile faintly, but you hid it from Jen, who you didn't have to look to feel her disagreement rising.

"That was your takeaway?" She scoffed. "I do not understand your loyalty to her. Hers, I understand, but not you. "

"It's not loyalty. It's analysis." Billy quickly defended himself.

"Oh, look who grew up."

"I'm fully aware that Agatha Harkness can never be anything but a coven-less witch."

You did not manage to hide your expression at those words, which seemed to sting you as much as they would Agatha.

Yet before you could ask anything, someone else beat you to it.

"Ouch!" Agatha exclaimed as she came from behind some plans.

Your eyes locked, and you could once again see right through her. You could see that something was odd, something had taken place but you were not sure what.

A part of you told you it had to do with Rio, but you wouldn't put your hand in the fire of it.

One thing was certain, though.

Agatha's mask was back on. Any moments of true humility, humanity, and empathy long gone by now. She had locked them all away once again.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha spoilers #agatha fanfic #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #moon phases fanfic #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #marvel #jennifer kale #billy maximoff

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julymusings · 2 days ago

Text

jalebi baby !

or; Dick Grayson and his Indian gf hosting Diwali 🧨☄️🎆

dick grayson x indian!fem!reader, like one euphemism i originally wrote more but it was kinda off-topic so i didn't include it. but if this ends up like...resonating particularly deeply with anyone i'll make another part also never quite got an answer on that friends question... Read Jason's version here !

In the years you’ve been with Dick, he’s celebrated multiple Diwali’s with you. He’s familiar with the customs and practices by now, knows the story behind the holiday, and has space in his closet for the several traditional garments he’s collected over the course of your relationship. But this year is different; this year, you are the hosts.

The day before, you were a mess. Rife with stress and nerves over your first time hosting the family party, an unspoken rite of passage into adult life. He had to basically drag you away from your checklist so he could sit you down and pamper you, massaging coconut oil into your scalp so you could relax. You can’t lie, though, it did help. That, and him being extra generous while washing it out in the shower later. You slept like a baby that night, worries long forgotten.

When the time for the party comes, he’s looking so…

He’s wearing a kurta that perfectly matches the cerulean of his eyes and has a shimmering silver paisley pattern, and he wears it with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows to put his tan, muscled forearms on display. (*Barking*)

Like the gentleman he is, he helps you drape your sari. He presses the pleats flat, secures the pins in place, all with a graceful precision that makes the finished product better than you could ever achieve. He’s pouting the whole time, though, because no matter how much you insist that it’s magenta, it still borders too close to red for his taste.

“It’s magenta, Dick.” “That’s basically red! Why don’t you just wear one that says ‘I Hate Nightwing’ in huge letters?” “Dickie, don’t be ridiculous…you know the pleating would hide the words.”

You thought that was hilarious, but he’s EXTRA pouty after that.

He can’t be mad at you for long, though, not when you’re looking like that. The gold border of your garment, the sparkle of your gold jewelry, and the rosy color against your brown skin with a bindi to match…you’re practically glowing. And if you’re wearing paayals (bell anklets)…that dainty twinkle that follows you when you walk— hold on, he needs a minute. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven because there’s an angel in front of him.

While you’re spending the whole party running around and looking after everything, he’s looking after you. He’s making sure you take sitting breaks, he’s bringing you water, he’s feeding you while you’re cooking, and taking over the cooking (when you let him) so you can take some time to actually enjoy the party.

For dessert you prepare his favorite (jalebi) but every time you remove one from the pot and place it in the serving dish, two seconds later it’s gone. He tries to pin it on one of your relatives, which results in said relative calling him lode (lode-eh), and you having to sequester him in another room so you can finish cooking.

While you take him on his walk of shame, he asks you what that means and you lovingly reassure him that it’s nothing bad. (It isn’t, technically…I mean it is his name, right?)

I didn't include this in Jason's version but I think while Dick likes jalebi, Jason is a gulab jamun kinda guy

divider from here

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urinarythreatinfection · 2 days ago

Note

Mihawk x AFAB Reader? With the • Character reacts to reader's form of affection

Pre-relationship, Reader isn’t being subtle. AT. ALL. About her intentions and constantly flirting and being affectionate with him.. And yet it STILL takes Mihawk a hot minute to realize what she’s doing and go.. “Oh… I see……. well all right then darling.. 😏”

This ended up being more gender neutral, i had to go back and try and atleast hint at AFAB but hey whatever.

Think About It

Mihawk x reader. Female in mind but can be gender neutral. 1165 words. A bit suggestive.

Mihawk isn’t necessarily a dumb, unintelligent, or oblivious man. However, he is an experienced one, unfortunately experience can be as unhelpful as ignorance. Especially when you’ve associated a certain behavior with something else.

“Heyyyy sexy~” You slowly slide your chair over to Mihawk’s side. “What’s a dashing older man like you doing here?”

“Reading.” He states, doing his preferred hobby of passing time.

“An educated man too, how attractive. Bet you’re popular, huh?”

“Hmm.” He’s never thought about it, annoyed by popularity, but he was more popular in his youth. He’s gotten a bit less popular with age though, most likely due to his approachibility getting even worse. “Decently.”

‘Such dry answers… but he’s actually responding instead of brushing me off like with others.’ Your thoughts scramble as you keep flirting. “Well~ I think you’re amazing.” He hums and you tilt your body to rest on his. “Your eyes when you read are really pretty too, I could watch you read for hours.” Usually he’d think nothing of the compliment, even finding it disgusting, but coming from you it’s actually a bit… flattering. His hawk-like eyes move from the book to look at at you, piercing and mezmerising. “Kyaa~ My heart just skipped a beat.” You half-joke with a hand on your chest. A certain behavior to him associated with a Red Haired man. Your true intentions are going over his head, his mind subconsiously filtering jokes like these as only jokes.

“I recommend seeing a doctor.” He brushes it off as he would with that weird redhead, looking back at his book. This isn’t working, mission failed and you sigh, eventually retreating to your room.

Later he finds you in the kitchen with a bottle of wine, “Oh, hey!” swishing it around with a wink when you see him. “Must be fate you came here just as I did, maybe we’re just meant to be.” You hold out the bottle to him and he walks up to you, taking it.

“I suppose so.” He’s actually fairly pleased this has happened, pouring both of you a glass.

“Right? We’re fated to be together, like Romeo and Juliet~” You say with a dreamy sigh, laying your head on his shoulder.

“The two of them die.” He points out, taking a sip from his glass while you flinch.

“Not… that part.” You step back. “Though I wouldn’t mind dying if it were oh so romantically with you~” You strike a pose of longing, hand reaching out to him. He places your wine glass in it.

“I would mind. I prefer you alive.” Mihawk states, not much to say, but for him it is. You end up getting flustered like he just professed his love.

“Thanks.. I prefer you alive too..” Failed again.

__________

Mihawk comes back from a mission looking irritated, immediately going for a bottle of wine when you spot him. “Welcome back, babe, you need a bath? I could even get in with you.” His mind is fresh from fighting, in a bad mood from it being annoying. One of the targets had escaped, making him have to waste time looking for them. Not hard, but out of the way enough to be irritating. Especially when the “battle” itself was hardly anything, being interrupted by the target accidentally causing their own demise. It leaves Mihawk feeling pent up, unfulfilled.

“I don’t need your assistance in bathing, (Y/n).” He shuts you down, quickly looking for a glass when you hand one to him. Wasting no time, he pours the liquid inside and takes a big gulp. It’s a little hot seeing him like this.

“Good view, if it makes you feel better I could always give you one too.” You walk over to him and press your chest against his arm. “If you’d let me~” He gently pushes you away.

“Not now. Your company is… nice, but I don’t need jokes.” He gulps down the rest of the wine and sighs in relief.

“Who said I’m joking?”

“I’m being quite serious.” Mihawk’s adamant and you sigh, pushing him like this would only make things worse when he’s in this mood.

“Alright. No view then, I get it. Call me if you need me~” You say with a purr, rubbing your cheek against him before leaving. Once you’re gone he grumbles, he didn’t want you to leave he just wanted you to stop messing around. It isn’t fun hearing someone who’s words you could actually take to heart play around with it. He almost finishes the entire bottle before deciding to bathe, wanted to feel clean and relax.

Mihawk sighs, his muscles untensing as he lowers himself into the hot water after cleaning himself properly. Much better. His mind, scrambled from stress, begins to come together as he starts to think of your adcances. He’s always assumed they were like Shanks’s, just jokes, and hadn’t thought really though about it more than that; but now that he’s allowing himself to look further he realizes more. They’re different than his, more bold, more flirtatious, and more often than Red Hair. The captain had usually just sprinkled them in with his other annoying babbling, but you joke flirt so frequently.

…

‘Perhaps these are not jokes?’ Something clicks in the swordsman’s mind and he gets up from the bath, drying off before getting dressed to see you. If this is true and they havent been jests he needs to make sure. He finds you back at the kitchen, about to drink your sorrows away before spotting him.

“Oh, you’re quicker than usual. Miss me too much?” He doesn’t respond, instead just getting closer to you. “Hug?” You hug him gladly, “I’d never miss the chance to be close to you.” You expect him to just pull back or accept it with a sigh as he usually does, but you feel his arms sneak around your body to hug you back. It makes you freeze in shock, not expecting your affection to be returned.

“(Y/n). Continue talking.” He says when you go silent.

“Huh.. yeah?” You’re confused, face hot.

“You enjoy my body, yes? Enjoy it.” He hugs you tighter, letting you feel his muscular build against you. “Take this chance.” You’re getting more flustered, why is he getting so into this so suddenly? He pulls back enough to look at you. “Enjoy the view as well.” This is a lot. Thankfully you’re too shameless to refuse so you take in the sight of him while feeling his warmth close to yours.

“This is the best.” You mumble and unconsciously reach a hand out to touch his cheek, he leans into it, closing his eyes. You’re reacting positively, he was right, and now that he knows he isn’t going to let this pass by.

“(Y/n).” He suddenly speaks and you jolt slightly.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I'll take your offer.” He places his hand over yours, opening his eyes to look into yours. “I would like to see the view.”

#anime only #one piece x reader #fanfiction #fluff #mihawk x reader #mihawk x female reader #mihawk x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #female reader #x reader #suggestive #one shot

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overnightheartbeats · 1 day ago

Text

Her smile couldn't be contained watching as he stood centimeters from her. Hiding how she felt and what she anticipated was not possible in any way or form. Laurel's eyes fluttered shut upon feeling those soft, lovely lips she had been hooked on from the start. "High praise, and you say I'm the one with the flirting skills," she teased, her hands cupping his face before pulling him in for a kiss of her own. The last two have been initiated by him, it was high time she give one to him. It's all she'd been thinking about for the last two weeks. "Hey, that night was great. No apology needed. I understand family, I just got it all mixed up. That's so sweet, being so close to your little sister." She zipped up her lips, "You're a great brother, and don't worry, I'll keep your secret." He had mentioned that last time, with that same sad tone. Chicago really was home, it seemed. "Well, for what it's worth, Austin is not that bad. It grows on you for sure, but don't say goodbye to Chicago. You never know where life could take you." Laurel was giddy at the thought of him meeting Julia and Aaron. Julia will be thrilled, especially when she was already such a big fan. "Wait, that's great! I love it, I'll let them know meeting you has made it to the itinerary."

It hadn't occurred to her that her answers had a deeper meaning somewhere in there, but she had said she was an open book. "I'll hold you to that," she said with a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. His question had thrown her off for a second. "Yeah. My mom, when she was still around. She was always going on and on about being a bit much, which is fine. It makes sense, I suppose. It helped me learned to tone it down." Though, she supposed toning it down was debatable. "Really? You'd learn with me. That would be so much fun, and we'd get a new skill out of it. Hopefully, some good food too." The thought was intriguing - her mind already trying to think of how could they make this work. Maybe borrowing her dad's kitchen, because the communal kitchen in the dorm buildings wouldn't cut it. "True, but it's all you at the end of the day. Pretty green eyes," and just like that - new nickname unlocked.

Laurel happily listened to him talk about his family. Usually, the family talk bummed her out, only reminding her of the odd mess she had. But, hearing him was a breath of fresh air. His family just sounded so sweet, full of love. Hearing that kind of love envelop him comforted her, especially when she thought back to the melancholy in his tone now. "Fooled me, or drew me in?" Wasn't it all about perspective? "Both of them like dancing, sounds like I need to thank them for their hard work teaching you. So, you're a snow over heat kind of guy?" Yet, he ended up here. How amusing. "That sounds so relaxing, cabin for holidays. You'll have to let me know how it goes. To Aspen? Unfortunately, no because you make it sound so fun. When we did vacations, my mom was always picking the places, and it was New York or Paris. I was also a kid, so it was a lot of following her around during shopping trips and then spending time with some random caretaker while they went out. Once it became my dad and I, then we tried visiting the Grand Canyon and sprained his ankle, so vacation cut short. But, his job keeps him busy too, so vacations are not too fun." He did try though, and that effort was everything to her. "Oh, true. Nerdy can be hot though, still doesn't matter if it's others' favorite hobby. Just yours. A self-help book, to teach others to flirt with you? No, thank you. I'll politely decline," she joked with a wink in his direction.

Something in common made her feel excited, eager to discover what else they could have in common. The possibilities seemed endless, which only made it better. "Random hobbies, huh? I mean, I'll try anything once really," that was said with a shrug. Her curiosity had a tendency to lead her to the most odd roads. "Are you trying to test my knowledge? Maybe so, or maybe I don't, but I could just throw random moves together and you wouldn't even know the difference. I'd have to dig the pom poms out of retirement," she laughed at the thought, though her attention was drawn back to his words. Laurel had never thought of silence that way, but there was no way to say that without it sounding pitiful. "The first one sounds familiar, but I guess I haven't had much of that second option. It could also be because I can never be quiet." Deflecting with jokes, a fine option. "You are just checking off all my boxes - cooking classes and stargazing, I am too lucky. I will be taking you up on that offer! I don't need the facts, just the company." His company, more specifically. "Yes, sounds like a plan. I still need to see these awesome blankets you hyped up earlier." They'd covered a decent amount of things already in the getting to know you trail, but she was quick to think of other things. "Okay, favorite color and what's one place, anywhere in the world, that you've always wanted to visit?"

Eli smiled and sighed as he chewed his lip before getting up off the chair to be centimeters away from her face. That almost mischievous childlike smile displayed as he brought her chin up with his fingertip and pressed a fleeting but warm kiss on her soft plump lips. "I don't think kissing you would ever disappoint me." He situated himself back on his chair and wrapped his ankles around the legs of the seat. "The saddle night was a good day. I'm sorry it got cut short. My little sister needed me and if you ever meet her, you'd see why. She and I are really close. She's my best friend. Just don't tell my brother and sister," he chuckled making his eyebrows crease. "Our little secret." The thought had crossed his mind once but ended up deciding that it was best if he didn't. "I wanted to but I think I'm going to stay or find some place to settle that would still be a flight away from them. I think I exhausted my time in Chicago." A sort of melancholy took over his voice saying that out loud. Her excitement was contagious and it made him nod. "I'd love to meet your best friends. That's a genuine feeling because I don't normally like to meet people." The bribery bit had him smile at her. He did wonder what she'd have up her sleeve.

"Don't worry about that. I don't deem you too much. Has anyone ever deemed you to be too much?" His curiosity had gotten him to ask the question. Otherwise he didn't think she'd have hesitancy over being known. "Realism isn't a bad thing. Though it's good to have a balance." he hummed and nodded. "We can learn together. I know a few things but the kitchen isn't really my forte. Eating is though. I wouldn't mind learning together and coming up with different recipes to try." It was a nice thought. Laurel and him in the kitchen making something and having fun. Not paying too much attention to the exact recipe just winging it at times. He smiled as they fluttered one quick time and shook his head. "I'll proudly take the title then. I don't know who to thank. Mom or dad could have had green eyes. Who knows."

"I fooled you with my subpar dancing skills. Mama P used to love to be twirled so every chance we got we used to twirl her. So she'd take us around the kitchen to dance. It was Papa P who used to teach us how to lead." The last time he skiied was last Christmas. The last holiday that was normal. "Not since last year. It was a family trip. I've got a picture of that time in my dorm. I love the snow. It's a magical place and would love to go back. Maybe rent a cabin and spend the holidays there." A dream he knew that couldn't be made reality since he didn't have the funds to actually do it. At least not yet. "Have you ever been?" He shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat. "Some people deem readers dorky and nerdy. So, it is not everyone's favorite hobby." She was cute when she laughed and her eyes sparkled with that joy. "It has worked. You have charmed me. Maybe now you should write a self help book on how to flirt the right amount."

"A one person type huh? Seems like we've got that in common." The smile he threw her was one that was half amused. "Cheerleading and tennis? Consider me more than intrigued. Do you still remember your cheer routine?" He'd wait until later to let her know he was one of the few cheer guys at the bottom of the pyramid. She didn't need to know that right now. "Silence isn't all bad. It depends on the person you're with. If they're using silence as a means for punishment then yeah that is not good. But if you're sitting in silence with someone who makes it safe and warm then you'd find it's also very fun. As for stargazing we should go sometime? I can't say I'll be full of facts but maybe I'll end up surprising you." Just then their food arrived and he grabbed it. "Shall we head back to the room?"

#DON'T MAKE ME CRY RIGHT NOW 😭😭😭😭 not all silence being bad!!!#she will be learning that with him!!#babygirl being copy paste is the biggest menace since he came into her life #isa is watching very very proudly!! he is so so happy for him #pls i'm so so amused rn..he was in cheer too..cracking up!

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iridescentmirrorsgenshin · 18 hours ago

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Hi! Thank you so much for all your analysis, I really enjoy them!! Did you find it strange when Alhaitham, at the end of the event, said he is not interested in visiting the temple of Silence for that gem? Because Alhaitham has always been one to pursue knowledge (sometimes to the extreme, i.g archon quest, where he offers to be taken as a hostage instead to learn more about the truth) Even Kaveh was confused by his answer. I wonder if Alhaitham only meant it in a "I wouldn't go through the trouble JUST for this gem" or if this might be a potential hint to his next storyquest? Idk, it just stood out to me that even Kaveh commented on it, when he knows Alhaitham the best.

i'm glad you enjoy them, thank you so much!! anon this is a delicious sumptuous question, this ??? inkling has been rattling around in my head since finishing the quest, so thank you for giving me a chance to break my own thoughts down about this!

alhaitham's own thoughts about the wedjat eye are that there is little more research to be carried out, as the wedjat eye is perceived as a piece of history, whose purpose and meaning has already been identified - and this can contrast against his active research pursuit with the forbidden canned knowledge capsules as it was uncertain what danger they posed, and the root of the danger

but kaveh points out (as you rightfully say) that since the gem is a legendary historical artifact, it's strange that alhaitham isn't interested in at least seeing it, to which alhaitham states that he refuses to go to the temple of silence to do so because it's too far for him, which is so funny to me??

as if he isn't seen roaming around in the desert and going on research trips to ruins in his character trailer, as well as the latter part of the archon quest taking place in the desert. i suppose that since alhaitham had personal motives to be in the desert these times, and, apparently the wedjat eye doesn't particularly interest him, that he isn't willing to make the journey this time, okay give us nothing!!!

alhaitham brings up the chance of the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya for appraisal, and says that in that case, he would take a look, as he likes to know when interesting things are brought to the akademiya - which can be seen as well in his story quest, where he keeps files on interest on his desk that the player can read

i think it's interesting that it is sethos himself who directly invites alhaitham to look at the wedjat eye for research when it's now contained in the temple of silence, as in cyno's second story quest, when the temple of silence is explored, sethos gives cyno and lord kusanali permission to choose people deemed "worthy" to pursue knowledge in the temple of silence, warning that they must be careful with their choice of candidates

cyno then extends this invitation to kaveh and alhaitham, with them seemingly being these 'candidates', as kaveh says he is interested in visiting the temple of silence in order to look through ancient documents, with cyno saying "that day will come" which seems to imply the temple of silence being at the centre of some future event

each sumeru event (an odd textual mystery and now nahida's birthday event) since then has, of course, included sethos, as he is now a mainline sumeru cast character, and the mention of the wedjat eye now belonging to the temple of silence is consistent with maintaining the organisation as a pivotal part of sumeru

whilst alhaitham's reluctance to physically go there seems to be for comedic purposes, in line with him not helping with the celebrations as it isn't part of his job description (oh but you can head on over to port ormos for no apparent reason to yap with kaveh and leave to go back to the house of daena? like it's a brisk stroll away?? SICK!) i think it's very likely that we'll get more of an exploration of the temple silence in future events (or perhaps a sethos hangout which i am once again asking for), especially (as you say) alhaitham is associated with pursuing knowledge, and the temple of silence is described by sethos to be the hub of this, i'll assume that there has to be something there that entices him to make the journey

as for the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya, i'm not so sure if this will be explored in an event or character story? the purpose of it seems to be fully explored in this event, with candace being the only one to be able to operate it, and with alhaitham saying that there's no need to study it further could be a narrative choice of essentially wrapping up this story thread - but who knows?? (thinking along these lines, it's notable that candace shows the wedjat eye to the traveller and paimon, but doesn't reveal it to alhaitham and kaveh when directly discussing it, ensuring that the two never see it...? worms in brain actually)

going back to the temple of silence, the information it actually possesses regarding king deshret's civilisation being a mystery, as well as the wedjat eye being a gift from king deshret now being contained there, (along with mehrak's core being from king deshret's civilisation which i think would be very !!! to explore), is really interesting to me, especially with the emphasis on there coming a 'day' in which it's possible for the temple of silence to be explored by the main crew, or those that cyno and nahida select as candidates. i'm very much hopeful that hoyo will fulfill this foreshadowing!!

#haikaveh #kavetham #alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact #or rather instead of the whole crew it's just mainly kaveh tighnari and cyno for the whole quest #and alhaitham shows up for a two minute private conversation with kaveh before being needed in the house of daena #and it's never talked about again <33333 #also i need madam faruzan to visit the temple of silence like are we kidding?? there are so many potentialities untapped that hoyo #needs to hammer at!!#also i think sumeru needs to talk about mehrak finally so i would love mehrak to also visit the temple of silence for a personal visit #also i am a bit sick that alhaitham and kaveh's private conversation seems to be a parallel to deshret and the goddess of flowers #i am raising my eyebrow very high at your cyclical parallels hoyoverse #thank you for your ask!!!

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just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace · 19 hours ago

Text

Damn this was a rollercoaster okay here we go

Almárea was not scared of them, which surprised you. In fact, she approached them and kept asking them a million questions as the Orcs were growing a little frustrated with her curiosity. They were, however, answering all her questions patiently. You cracked a smile at that. She was still a child – curious and so full of life.

I’m just imagining the Orcs sweating their asses off thinking ‘must not upset the boss’s daughter if we make her cry we die be nice be nice’. She’s such a little menace just by existing and she doesn’t even know it🤣

“I shall not allow him to hurt you, uncle. I shall not, I promise,” you kissed Celebrimbor’s forehead and your uncle looked up at you with hazy eyes and a loving smile. “You have endured and suffered so much because of him already. But no more, no more, uncle… Now you must rest.”

THANK YOU for not killing Celebrimbor in this one. This is still tragic af but honestly I don’t see how reader would have forgiven Sauron if he had done to her uncle what he did in canon.

Long silence occurred. Sauron laid his cold and empty eyes upon you, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the wall and crying silent tears.

“It is her choice,” he answered, softly, “but I doubt she wants to go with us.”

AAAA when I got here without knowing the end of the fic I was like: is he genuinly hoping she will follow him for him as well as their daughter? Is there quiet yearning in this or do I just want him to be yearning so it hurts me more in all the best ways??

“It was the only moment when I felt that I should, perhaps, abandon my old life and remain in Eregion as Annatar by your side forever,” he confessed.

Again I was like STOP DON’T GIVE ME HOPE. Same with when he kept leaving her little gifts on her bed. I would have folded so fast it’s not been funny😩

“A forge,” she answered. “I miss uncle Celebrimbor’s one and this place makes me feel as if I was back there. Oh, daddy, can you imagine all the beautiful things we could craft here?” She asked with a smile.

Sauron froze for a moment as you watched the scene with a raised eyebrow. He looked around as if he had just realised something brilliant.

Okay this is hilarious. Kid, you have no idea the shit storm you just started. Brilliant🤣

“I miss you,” you confessed. “I miss being close to you,” you added.

“You miss Annatar, not me,” he shrugged his arms and looked out of the window again.

*chanting to myself* I must not feel bad for him I must not feel bad for him

Fuck I feel bad for him😭 especially after THIS:

“Come here, my love,” Sauron pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Oh, how I have missed you, too, my darling. And even though it brought me great pain, I knew I had to wait for you to come to me out of your own free will.”

TELL ME HE IS HONEST MY HEART CANNOT TAKE IT OTHERWISE

I mean it seems like he is in this fic but I have such deep trust issues with Sauron I’m always scared he’s gonna flip the tables out of nowhere😅

“You are going to have many,” Sauron spoke as he reached his hand out to caress her hair. “And each of you will get their own kingdom to rule over in my name and their own Ring,” he shared his new plan as a shiver went down your spine. “And all Middle-earth will be healed at once for your mother’s light and my darkness combine like two precious metals; balancing and amplifying everything I could ever be on my own.”

Oh no there will be MULTIPLE MINI SAURONS RUNNING AROUND👀👀👀 but the balance thing is beautiful and I’m gonna pretend like maybe Middle-Earth isn’t still totally screwed (it is but who could resist him when he talks like that?😩)

His love is so twisted but all of this was delicious. We the Sauron girlies thank you for the good food🤭❤️

— BLESSED (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!half-Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — You have no choice but to follow Sauron and your daughter to Mordor because you do not want to abandon her. As time passes, you find yourself being lured by your husband's charm once more as the memories of his cruelty in Eregion begin to fade away.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — And here we are go with the last part! I know I probably write Sauron's relationship with his daughter in a very idealistic way – that in canon he would be most likely way worse. But writing it like that would bring me no joy. 🤷🏻‍♀️ It's a fic for dad!Sauron and I want him to be at least a bit decent while we're at it! 😤

WARNINGS — Reader's father is dead (he was human, so she outlived him), manipulating, gaslighting, toxic and abusive marriage between the Reader and Sauron, Sauron being a very mid dad who manipulates his daughter and teaches her how to be evil like him, child in danger (nothing happens in the end), murder (of the Orcs), Celebrimbor has gone mad-mad, immaculate conception (yes, again!)

WORD COUNT — 4,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BLESSED (III)

Celebrimbor was out of his mind again. Your heart ached for him as you were sitting next to him and caressing his hair softly as if he was a child. He had spent centuries taking care of you and now it was your turn to return the favour. You kept sobbing, feeling angry at yourself that you could not protect him.

Sauron was gone. After finding out where The Rings were, he had left in a hurry, leaving you with a few Orcs that had come to the forge in the meantime. They wanted to plead their allegiance to your husband and the very first task they had been given was to watch over you, your daughter and your uncle. To make sure none of you would escape.

So full of light, too. You could not let the darkness win within her.

“Your daughter…” He mumbled out and you looked down at his face with a sad smile. “Is she not the most precious? She is the exact copy of you, sweet (Y/N). You were a girl like her once, running around this very forge.”

“I remember, uncle,” you sobbed. “I remember it vividly. My father and you working together, my mother still happy and full of life, before she began a lifetime of mourning. I remember…”

You pulled him closer and tried to come up with an idea how to save him. Even if Sauron would not kill him – he had made this promise to Almárea when she had revealed to him Lady Galadriel had been the one to have The Rings now and you wanted to believe he would keep that promise – you still had a feeling your husband would use Celebrimbor somehow or hurt him.

“Almárea?” You called out for her and she turned around to lay her eyes upon you. You beckoned her over and she nodded at the Orcs before running up to you. “Almárea, do you want uncle Celebrimbor to be safe?”

“Of course, mummy,” your daughter’s eyes widened.

“Can you distract them as I walk him out of here? I will be right back,” you whispered as you pointed at the Orcs with your chin.

“I do not know, mummy… Last time I listened to you, daddy was very angry…” She looked down, nervously.

“Almárea, please. Do you love uncle Celebrimbor?” You asked.

“Yes, of course,” she nodded.

“Then, please…”

“But will you come back to me? Truly?” She lifted up her eyes and looked into yours with a hint of anxiety.

“My darling, always. I shall never abandon you,” you promised, truthfully. Your heart ached at the thought she was not as sure of it as you were.

Eventually, she nodded as she turned around towards the Orcs once more. She ran up to them joyfully and kept asking them questions. When you moved up, dragging Celebrimbor with you, they did not even flinch, which meant that your daughter’s deception was working.

You felt bad for leaving her with them even for a short moment but at this moment it was your uncle who was the most vulnerable and who needed you more. You owed him that, at least.

You walked him out of the forge and hurried to the secret tunnel below the city. The Orcs who had taken over Eregion were feasting now in havoc in the courtyard, which distracted them enough to make it possible for you to lead your uncle safely to the passage.

You walked inside with him and he was following you like a trusting child. In the middle of the passage, you bumped into Herald Elrond. Your heart was in joy to see him and to know that he was safe. He had been some sort of a cousin to you – his father had also been a friend of Celebrimbor and he also was a half-Elf. You had many things in common and you had been close friends in your youth.

“(Y/N), thank the Valar,” he sighed. “Where is your daughter? I was sent here by the High King to make an attempt to rescue you and–” He began.

“I must go back,” you shook your head with your eyes full of tears. “Take uncle Celebrimbor to safety. Heal his mind. Forget about me,” you pleaded and he furrowed his brows.

“What are you talking about?” He asked. “Where is Almárea?”

“Please, Elrond. You must not know,” you insisted before kissing your uncle’s forehead once more and caressing his cheeks to tell him goodbye.

“(Y/N)!” Elrond called out for you when you turned around to go back to Eregion and to your daughter.

“If you love me and respect me,” you began. “If you love Celebrimbor… Just take him away from here. That is all I ask for,” you insisted and hurried back to Eregion. “Do not follow me!” You exclaimed after hearing him trying to rush after you.

He eventually listened to you because he had a huge love for Celebrimbor and he could see the state of him was not the best. You heard the sound of their steps subduing as you went back to Eregion.

You went back to the forge, feeling a bit more peaceful on the inside, knowing that you managed to save your uncle from Sauron. You nodded at Almárea and she nodded back at you, visibly relieved to see you coming back to her.

Her father came back not long after, too. He was wearing a breastplate and holding Morgoth’s crown in his hand, which was dripping blood – you could feel from afar its purity and light. It was Elven.

“Have you killed her?” You whispered with widened eyes.

“Sadly, no,” Sauron answered with a smirk. “But I got The Nine,” he added and you looked away, feeling defeated. “Speaking of, where is Celebrimbor?”

“Far away,” you mumbled out, expecting him to lash out.

Surprisingly, he did not. He shrugged his arms.

“Whatever. He is no use to me anymore. Almárea, we are leaving,” he extended his free hand and nodded at her.

“You cannot take her away from me!” You turned your head around again to watch what she would do. She hesitated but then she ran up to him and squeezed his hand, which felt like a punch straight into your heart.

“Where are we going, daddy?” She asked.

“To our new home,” Sauron answered and turned around, dragging her behind him but she remained still. “What is it?” He asked with an irritated sigh.

“We are taking mummy with us, right?” She asked.

Long silence occurred. Sauron laid his cold and empty eyes upon you, sitting on the floor with your back pressed to the wall and crying silent tears.

“It is her choice,” he answered, softly, “but I doubt she wants to go with us.”

“On the contrary. I have no choice,” you gritted your teeth, clumsily standing up. “I must go where she goes. Even if it is a path I hate to follow.”

“Do you truly realise who I am?” Your husband titled his head at your words. “All the stories they have told you about me when you were a child – I am worse than any of them.”

“I am fully aware,” you approached him and held Almárea’s free hand. “And that is why I must go to make sure you do not turn her into a monster like you.”

It took you a few days of travel with the filthy army of Orcs to get to Mordor. You and Sauron did not exchange a single word during this trip. Almárea was riding with you on your horse for half of the day and then she would go to ride with her father. You made no stops on your way, so after arriving in Mordor, you and your daughter were exhausted.

The land was dark and barren, full of fire and ashes. It looked like hell but you decided not to complain because you realised you were on thin ice already – Sauron did not treat you like his consort in any way. Apparently, you would be nothing but a mother to his child from now on. Any sign of disobedience could be punished with exile and that was the last thing you wanted. You needed to be close to your daughter.

He ordered the Orcs to build him a grand fortress but until then, you resided in a big mansion that had once belonged to a rich human family of The Southlands. You had an awful view of Mount Doom from there and the rooms were all beautifully decorated but also dusty and worn out.

Once again – you did not complain. You did not dare.

You followed Sauron to the chambers he had decided would be yours and Almárea’s. He was carrying her in his arms as she was half-asleep already. You watched him put her to bed and caress her head as you sat down on the chair next to the bed. You held her little hand and squeezed it lovingly, watching her drift off to the land of dreams. Those past few days had been difficult and exhausting for her.

Sauron straightened his back and looked down at you with a bit of contempt but also affection – mixed together, they made you feel deeply uncomfortable.

“Do you remember?” He asked, speaking his very first sentence to you in days.

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him, questioningly. Your husband extended his hand and touched your cheek with it.

At that moment, your vision got blurry and you felt yourself go back in time a few years to one, specific memory. One of the most beautiful days you had ever lived.

You were sitting by the river, in a field full of flowers. Almárea was about a year old and clumsily taking her first steps. You watched Annatar helping her and chuckling at her harmless but funny falls as she kept giggling and blabbering, excitedly. The sun was slowly setting and you felt at peace. You truly believed your whole life would be just like that.

When Sauron took his hand away from your face, you found yourself back in Mordor, stripped of any faith and any dignity.

“Why did you show me that?” You asked him, angrily, as your eyes filled with fresh tears.

“It was the only moment when I felt that I should, perhaps, abandon my old life and remain in Eregion as Annatar by your side forever,” he confessed.

“Perhaps you should have,” was all you answered, in a whisper nearly inaudible as you watched him walk away with tears streaming down your cheeks.

You had cried out so many of them recently that you were starting to feel hollow and empty.

Weeks passed, maybe months. You had lost track of time since all your days were the same. You were given quite a lot of freedom because Sauron was sure you would never leave his side as long as Almárea was there. You were allowed to walk around the mansion and even take walks although you did not crave them at all since Mordor was not the perfect place to spend time outside.

You were barely exchanging any words with your husband and you seemed to avoid each other. However, he was making sure you were not short on anything. Once in a while there was a package waiting for you on your bed. Inside it you would find gifts – books to read or new dresses. And yesterday you had found an embroidery set, which filled your heart with joy.

You missed embroidery and you even considered it quite thoughtful that he had remembered about it. So, you were sitting by the window and focusing on your craft, trying to recreate Mount Doom, which your daughter loved for some reason. You wanted to make her happy.

You were focused on your work when the doors opened loudly, making you misplace the needle and hurt yourself as you hissed and looked up at your husband.

“Where is Almárea?” He asked, looking around the room.

“Is she not with you? Are you not teaching her your craft of treachery and deception like every day?” You asked with a sigh, defeated.

Sauron rolled his eyes but decided not to comment on your remark.

“I told her to go back to her mother about two hours ago,” he informed you and your heart skipped a beat at that revelation.

“Why didn’t you walk her here yourself?” You asked.

“I had an important matter to attend to and it is not like she is a toddler, is it?” Sauron clenched his jaw but you spotted a glimpse of panic in his eyes. “Where is she?”

“How can I know?! I thought she was with you!” You stood up instantly and put your embroidery set down before rushing out of your chambers. “Almárea!” You called out. “Almárea!”

“Have you seen Lady Almárea?” Sauron asked one of the Orcs walking down the hall.

“N-no, my Lord Sauron,” the Orc shook his head and you watched your husband sit his throat just like that. Usually, you found this behaviour of his dreadful. But now you were too scared and worried for your daughter to care

You kept searching for her all over the mansion, calling out her name, leaving a pile of dead Orcs behind because none of them could answer Sauron about Almárea’s location.

“I think she must have gone outside,” you said after bumping into your husband in the corridor. You watched his eyes widen even further in terror and concern. You snorted at that. “What are you? Scared of losing your precious tool?” You asked him with contempt.

That only angered him further as he grabbed your arm and squeezed it so tightly that you were sure there was a bruise forming already.

“Do not ever say that again,” he drawled out through gritted teeth right into your face. “Do not speak of matters you have no idea of.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. Despite everything between you two – it seemed like you shared a thread together and that was love for your daughter. And because you were a worried mother, you regretted inflicting any pain upon a worried father.

“Forgive me,” you whispered and he let go of your arm.

“Do you have any idea where she could go?” Sauron asked you and you shook your head before freezing as you realised.

“Mount Doom,” you whispered. “For some reason, she adores it,” you explained.

“We must not waste any moment then,” Sauron grabbed your wrist and dragged you behind him as you two ran out of the mansion.

The forsaken volcano was not very far away from your home but it still took you quite a while to get there. The air was poisonous around it, making you choke and tear up. You were no mortal, therefore you were in no danger, but it was still an inconvenience.

“If anything happened to her, I shall be the one to kill you, whatever it takes!” You threatened your husband and he did not even say anything to this. He let go of your wrist and proceeded to climb up.

You followed him but in many places the ground was slippery and you needed his support. His hand would grab you each time you stumbled and pull you up.

Breathing heavily, both covered in dirt from the ashes, you stood there, petrified, seeing Almárea sitting by the edge of the volcano and staring at it spitting out fire. She seemed to be content with her position. You looked up at Sauron with terror in your eyes and he left you behind to approach your daughter with extended hands.

“Almárea, what are you doing here? Have you not been told to never go outside without me or your mother?” Sauron asked, carefully.

“Ugh, daddy, I know, I am sorry. I was just so curious about this mountain and guess what? It is even better than I have imagined,” she confessed with a smile. “Do you know what it reminds me of?”

“What, Almárea?” He asked, taking a few more small steps closer to her.

Sauron froze for a moment as you watched the scene with a raised eyebrow. He looked around as if he had just realised something brilliant.

“Yes, I can, my darling. And we will,” he assured her. “But please, come to me and mummy now, will you?” He extended his hand even further and she nodded, eagerly.

You both gasped watching her stand up because one little wrong move could cause her to fall down the volcano. She, however, seemed to be oblivious. She skipped along towards her father and Sauron picked her up in an instant, squeezing her tight and caressing the back of her head.

Your heart swelled inside your chest at the realisation that he truly cared for her and truly loved her – even if it was not enough to save her from making her play a part in his schemes.

“Can we go back home, please?” You pleaded and it was the very first time you called that awful place your home.

Sauron nodded at you and you began your walk down the mountain. You were still shaking slightly and holding onto his sleeve to make sure you would not fall. Just like in the old days, he was bringing you comfort and safety – he was making you feel protected even if it was only being protected from a fall.

When you reached your mansion, Sauron took Almárea to the chambers she shared with you. Her skin and robes were dirty with mud and ashes, therefore you prepared her a bath and helped her to undress and get inside the bathtub.

“Call for me if you need anything,” you told her as you placed a new dress on the chair for her to dress herself into after the bath. “Be careful, my darling,” you smiled at her and left her alone in the bathroom, although you left the door ajar just in case.

Sauron was still inside your chambers and staring out of the window at Mount Doom. You sighed at the sight of his back turned on you and you decided to approach him softly.

Your hands acted before you allowed them to and they placed themselves on his arm softly. Your body ached for him and his presence; it was too used to his touch.

He flinched a little and turned his head around to look down at you with a puzzled expression.

“I miss you,” you confessed. “I miss being close to you,” you added.

“You miss Annatar, not me,” he shrugged his arms and looked out of the window again.

“Was Annatar not you? From the very beginning, my husband was Sauron. I only chose to be blind to see it,” you whispered and he looked back at you again, surprised to hear your words.

“Do I not repulse you?” He snorted.

“It does not change the fact I love you still,” you sighed and pressed your cheek to his arm. You both remained dirty from the ashes but you did not mind that all because today’s shared experience of fear and concern for your daughter had brought you two close together once more.

“Your love differs from mine,” he pointed out, a little harshly.

“It has not escaped me,” you let out a chuckle and nuzzled your face deeper into his sleeve. “But it is alright that we love differently. I do not want to be your Queen, I do not want you to share your power with me. All I want is to–”

“Have a family with me,” Sauron finished the sentence softly and you looked up at him, gently. It was the very first time in a long time when your eyes filled with affection for him again. “I was never keen on the idea of having offspring,” he admitted. “But then you made me realise what a blessing children might be,” he cracked a smile and raised his hand to caress your cheek. “I was terrified of my potential child stealing my powers and overthrowing me but Almárea… Her powers and her mind terrify me in the most exquisite way. Do you know why she is so perfect?” He asked and you shook your head. “Because she is half you. She is half light and half darkness. The perfect balance and what else could possibly heal Middle-earth?”

You hated yourself but you found yourself falling for his beautiful words once again. You could never be sure after everything that had happened if his sweet nothings, promises and love declarations were ever genuine. Perhaps, you would forever wonder about it. But despite all of that, the dreadful memories of Eregion’s downfall and his behaviour then were becoming blurry with time and you were ready to move on; to start another chapter with him.

And, as usual, you had an excuse for your husband, too. He had been nervous then. Of course he had been the worst version of himself. But it did not mean he would always be like this. Right now he was not.

“Here I stand,” you whispered and a single tear streamed down your cheek.

“Almárea asked me about us,” Sauron put his hands on your arms and moved away slightly to be able to look at your face. “She wonders if we still love each other. I told her it was complicated.”

“I told her the very same thing,” you smiled sadly.

“But it is not, is it?” He raised an eyebrow and you shook your head, laughing nervously through your tears.

“No,” you admitted. “It is not.”

“It is true that I had my reasons to choose you out of all Elven maidens. And it is true that I was scared of having a son with you because I thought that the chances of a son overthrowing me would be higher,” he admitted and you furrowed your brows. “But you have become the most dear to me, the most precious,” he confessed and turned you around, making you look at Mount Doom as his hands lowered themselves to your abdomen.

You knew what he was about to do. You flinched at first, torn on the inside if it was truly what you wanted. Last time you had been deceived but now you would willingly allow it, despite knowing the true nature of the man who was your husband.

You looked down at his hands resting on your womb. He was still wearing a golden ring on his finger that you had put there on the day of your wedding. And you were still wearing yours because you still loved him despite hating yourself for it. You still wanted to be around him as if he was something addictive that you could not live without. And your womb was still open for more of his offspring.

You relaxed and when he sensed your consent, you could feel the warmth radiating off of his hands and filling you up, forming a new life inside of you.

You put your hands on top of his and squeezed them for courage.

“A son,” he whispered into your ear with lots of satisfaction and excitement.

“Another tool for you to use,” you pointed out.

“Another child for you to love and spoil,” Sauron brushed your hair strand and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Another thread of love binding us together.”

“Mummy? Daddy?” Almárea’s voice made you both turn around. She walked out of the bathroom in her new dress and kept looking at you two with a big grin. “Does it mean you are in love again?” She asked, full of hope.

“Oh, my darling, we have never stopped being in love,” you assured her and opened your arms to allow her to give you a hug. You did not want her to know all the details about the nature of your relationship with her father. She had already seen and witnessed way too much.

She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight, which only made her smile grow even wider as she looked up.

“I am going to have a sibling!” She exclaimed, happily, after sensing the new life inside of you.

“But… But you will still rule over us all, right, daddy?” Almárea asked hopefully, as if she was already scared of the responsibility that one day would be put upon her shoulders.

“Oh, of course, little one,” Sauron smiled lovingly at her. “I shall always bear the biggest burden of power for that is a father’s one to carry.”

He loved her – of that you were sure now. But no amount of his love could protect her from his schemes and his manipulations. Therefore, he had to love you as well and no amount of cruelty he had put you through contradicted it.

That was the way Sauron loved. It was a cursed devotion but also a blessed one.

MASTERLIST

#fic rec #annatar x reader #sauron x reader #the rings of power

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pancho-pinto · 1 day ago

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Boys' Girl Problems

gift for @myfuckingpenexploded / @crystal-consumer for @mcyt-trick-or-treat!

Fandom: Hermitcraft, 3rd Life Words: 3,043 Rating: General Warnings: No Warnings Relationships: Gem & Joel, Gem/Pearl Additional Tags: High School AU, Internalized Homophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Coming Out, Hopeful Ending Summary: Pearl and Etho are over again, hanging out in Tango's room as they do every other day. The wall separating them is thin, and she can hear them laughing. She can hear Pearl, which only reminds her of the things that could be but aren't. Gem is conflicted, and a dumb scuffle with Joel finally brings her some support she desperately needs.

fic under cut

One thing Gem hates about their house are the thin walls.

Just on the other side of the wall, right beside her room, she can hear the chatter going on in her twin’s room. Despite Tango saying he’d never be mad at Gem for telling him to shut up, Gem keeps her mouth shut. But not because she isn’t bothered by the noise and laughing and whatnot, but because this is that rare chance she gets to hear Pearl be her silly, goofy self.

In hindsight, this is very pathetic because she could just go over and they can all hang out as a group. Tango invites her every time, and every time, she rejects it.

It wouldn’t be fair—corrupting their innocent hang-out with her selfish reasons? She couldn’t bring herself to do that to them. To Tango, much less Pearl—she could to Etho, probably; and Joel for sure wouldn’t have minded being dragged over.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to tune out their voices, focusing on the boy in her bed. If ‘bored’ ever needs a model, Joel for sure is her top pick.

However, instead of nudging or kicking him, she crawls over and lays beside him. Joel facing the door and her facing away from it, their upper bodies meeting in the middle of the bed, both staring at her ceiling. She places her hands on her stomach, one hand over the other, and tries to not think.

Which she fails, but that’s besides the point.

“I found this book, Gem,” Joel says just as she opens her mouth to speak. She presses her lips shut, frowning. She and Joel have this weird connection that she doesn’t even have with her twin—always knowing when the other is about to speak and promptly interrupting, especially during important moments. Still, she lets him, deciding that she will continue to wallow in her misery alone. “You’ll love it.”

She tilts her head back when she catches movement, watching as Joel raises an open book over his head. It’s a small book, an inch shorter than a phone and seemingly as wide as one. She tries to read but the small words blur, and she can’t be bothered to grab her glasses.

“Gem, why did the M&M go to school?”

There is a moment of realization, an instant one that has Gem freezing on the spot. Her vision continues to unblur as Joel waits for her answer, one she doesn’t want to give. A question, she is supposed to answer with a question and then Joel gets to finish the joke.

Faintly, a round of laughter from the other room. Gem almost imagines that’s life laughing in her misery. Joel still waits.

A sigh, defeat, “Why?”

And in the most monotone voice, without even trying to make it humorous, almost like an act of solidarity so they are both suffering in equal parts, Joel replies. “Because he wants to be a Smartie.”

They watch the book as her room falls into silence. Gem wants to cry, probably. Though she doesn’t know if for her current situation or because she can still hear her—Pearl, laughing with such a genuine glee she wants to cry.

She rolls over onto her stomach, hugging her arms around her head in preparation for the tears. Her heart beats hard against the bed, there is tension on her shoulders. Instead of stupid jokes, why couldn’t Joel see she is upset? Why couldn’t she ask for comfort? Why did it have to be like this?

Pearl is Tango’s friend. And she is Tango’s twin. But because she is his twin, she’s never wanted to cross the line. Logically, she knows Tango wouldn’t care, but in the off chance that he did, how could she betray him? That’s her twin!

And Pearl—

Pearl is Tango’s friend. Pearl is wonderful and fun and so genuine. Pearl is so unapologetically quirky and silly and goofy, she wears her heart and feelings on her sleeves, and the whole world is a better place because she exists in it—

“What kind of tea is hard to swallow? Reali-tea.”

And she’s pretty. Tall, long hair, her eyes are beautiful brows and her lips are a little thin but perfect. She is on the lankier side but plays so many sports, and is great at all of them. Her skin is soft and her hands tender—

“If you see a robbery at an Apple store, what does that make you? An i-witness.”

Pearl is perfect. Pearl is lovely. But Pearl is a girl.

A better girl. The best girl.

Who could Gem compare to all the boys so readily willing to give her the world?

Pearl is a wonderful girl. The best girl. She deserves so much better.

“Knock, knock. Who’s there? Gem. Gem who? Gem why aren’t you listening to me?”

As soon as Joel rolls over her, Gem kicks into fight mode and shoves him as she rolls away. However, as Joel is, he chases and sticks as close as he can until she hits the headboard, squashing the pillows against the board and her back, both of them rolled up in her blankets.

She holds her forearm against Joel’s back, who is practically laying on her front.

“Get off!”

“You weren’t listening to me, Gem.”

“I don’t care about your dumb jokes!” Her voice wavers with a half-hiccup, and Joel stops pushing back against her. He stays where he is, facing away from her, covering her and… oddly enough, it feels like protecting her. When she speaks again, her voice is soft and quiet, terrified to be heard, “Joel, please…”

Joel’s reply isn’t quick, nor loud, rather, it’s something forced and strained—giving both of them an out instead of having some deep conversation. She’s known him almost as long as Tango’s known Pearl and Etho, but she never thought that they were that close, though now she realizes they have been.

For a while, even.

“You know,” Joel says, using that ‘macho’ tone when he’s facing off the older boys in school, challenging yet dismissing, uninterested yet it’s laced with sarcasm for the special occasion—all forced, so unlike him, but that’s not something she can think about right now even if she would rather talk about that in place of her current feelings and thoughts—, “whatever problem you have, it’s probably none of my concern. Either way, not like I can help you with anything anyways—”

Gem feels brave because she can’t see him, because the other option is breaking into sobs, and she responds with as much animosity. It’s a front, they know. Makes this easy, pretending that they don’t care.

“Of course you can, it’s girl problems.”

He tenses against her forearm. She wavers. This is it, then? Judgment day?

“What… kind of girl problems?”

“Boys’ girl problems,” she hisses, lips pursed into a scowl. She breathes in stutters, like she can’t quite steady herself. Pearl laughs on the other side before Joel gets the chance to speak, and her world shatters even more. How can Pearl be so close yet far? It isn’t fair. It isn’t.

His silence, her laugh—Gem wants to hide under her blankets like a little girl again, safe from the world and away from all these dizzying thoughts. Her chest tightens and she can’t bring herself to keep it all in anymore.

Suddenly, with a single sob, her room falls into a deafening silence. Like any and every sound is extinguished, left only with her broken sobs and strangling hiccups, suffocating against Joel’s back but safe from… from something. Everything outside of herself. Everything but her—

“Do… you want me to call Tango?” Joel asks and he sounds so far away.

Gem musters a weak ‘no’ and they stay in place.

The corners of her eyes begin to irritate and her face becomes damp and sticky, too hot for comfort too but she can’t bring herself to move. Useless, is all her mind offers when she tries to think of anything. Useless, she mouths as she forces her eyes shut. In a pathetic attempt to call for help, she takes a handful of Joel’s shirt in her hands—pleading he stays? Pleading for help? What does she need?

What does she want?

Her.

She wants her so bad.

But she can’t. She can’t.

“C’mon Gem, you’re better than this,” Joel says, and she knows she is better than this. But she can’t help it. He knows she can’t, she can hear the pity in his voice. “Want… to hear a joke about pizza? I’m… sure that will make you feel better.”

Things happen around her—he pulls away and desperation overtakes her, holding onto him in a panic that breaks her own heart. But he stays, rolls to his knees to face her, one hand holding her wrist, the other holding her arm. She drops her head in shame, disgusted with herself for her messy state.

“Nevermind,” Joel says softly, in a shaky voice, “it’s too cheesy anyways…”

He holds her hand instead of her wrist, his other hand prying the blankets from them. The bed is a mess, she feels a mess. Then he guides her off the bed, inching to the edge and making sure to be by her side when she stands on unsteady legs.

“I’ll say it if you need to hear it,” he whispers when her head drops on his shoulder, standing a couple seconds to regain balance. He is warm and he is sturdy, she can’t help leaning on him. He isn’t pushing her away now, she needs to enjoy this for as long as it will last. A long time, she hopes. “I don’t care who you like or who you are, I will be here, and I will protect you if I have to. If anyone gives you crap at school, you tell me and I will beat their asses. You know I don’t care about expulsion, and… And I care about you, alright? That won’t change, ever.”

“Thanks,” she mouths, and a final hot tear rolls down her itchy cheek.

Gem rubs the back of her hand on already irritated skin, feeling the sting but feeling lighter in her chest. She breathes in and out, fighting the slight headache from sobbing and practically being suffocated by Joel. When he takes a small step, she feels ready and follows, the distance from her bed to the door like an eternity passing in a flash.

Joel places a hand on the doorknob, pausing a second. She rubs the underside of her eyes again, peeking one eye at him. Joel is looking at the doorknob, intently, deep in thought but he answers before she asks.

It’s still quiet, hushed words like he’s making sure to protect her ‘secret’ too, “Talk about putting the L in LGBT…”

Gem shoves him against the door, a measly push that barely moves him. But she smiles, and he smiles twice as wide when she does.

Despite her parents not being home or them doing anything suspicious, they sneak out of her room on tip-toes into the bathroom. Gem washes her face with cold water, and Joel splashes her when she looks at the mirror too long. It’s not long before the bathroom is completely wet, and it’s not long before they are tossing the last dirty towel on the hamper.

The house is quiet as they walk to the living room, in unison taking a detour to the kitchen instead. Instantly, they look through the fridge and cabinets and pantry for food, the insatiable hunger of teens who remembered they can eat.

Through the mundane sound of doors and the quiet hiss of the fridge door, rattling cutlery and packaging rustling, Gem finds a sliver of her voice—still quiet, but a small sound still manages to get Joel’s attention.

“I… Joel? I think I might be… bi…?”

He turns to her, and she looks back, finding that same unreadable expression on his face. His voice, too, remains monotone, “Don’t say you’re bi if you haven’t had sex with a bicycle.”

She blinks at him. A couple times, before she is throwing the paper towel roll at his head. Of course, he catches it and tosses it back, and she catches it unrolled.

“You are awful.”

“And you somehow managed to take not one but two L’s all by yourself.”

She rolls her eyes so far back it hurts, slamming the roll on the counter. Still, they go about their search, finding nothing to eat in the stocked kitchen, so they stand in front of the fridge, looking at it like food will materialize if they stare long enough.

And once again, without saying it, they grab what they need for some pancakes. Beats ordering food, and above that, it beats asking the others to eat together. Gem doesn’t think she can face Pearl right then, or Tango. She can’t come out to her twin because her crush is his friend, a very close friend, and she can’t ruin that for them.

She stares at the little dish in the microwave, the butter melting in it—she realizes she would never forgive herself if Tango lost Pearl because of her stupid feelings.

“I’ll be back,” Joel says, gesturing to where they had come from, probably to the bathroom. Gem gives him a nod.

She pours the melted butter, milk, vanilla, and an egg into another bowl, whisking it together. Joel comes back as she starts to stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, going behind her to start the stove.

“Hey, Gem?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear about the crazy pancake?”

“Oh gosh. No. What about it?”

“I don’t know, he just flipped.”

Gem stares at the back of his head, holding back from smacking him. Kitchen safety and all that. She walks over, placing the bowl beside him.

“I need to change. You okay on your own?”

“Cooking pancakes for my beautiful friend,” Joel says with faux cheer.

Gem rolls her eyes again, but there is a smile on her lips, “Who the heck is burning down my kitchen?”

Joel smiles back then shoos her away. Promptly, and gladly, she walks about from the stupid jokes and puns, even if their absurdities and Joel’s pure intent does warm her heart. A second after entering her room, a knock stops her from taking her sweat-soaked shirt.

“Come in.”

She turns and sees Tango peeking his head in, “Hey, we are going to the mall. Wanna come with?”

Gem does what she always does—thinks of Pearl, thinks of Tango, thinks of her feelings and their friendship—and she shakes her head.

“Joel and I just started making pancakes,” she says, apologetically.

“Aww, why didn’t you say so sooner?” Tango pouts, and she smiles. It’s for the better.

“I’ll save you some!”

“Nah, it’s alright. Do you want anything, then?”

She shakes her head again. “You three be careful, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tango salutes her, and then disappears before the door closes.

Gem stares at the door, wanting so bad to go with them. She knows she can’t, but she wishes she could. Regardless, Tango is gone now, and she expects the other two to be out by now too. It’s just her and Joel, and maybe she can tell him all about her turmoil and dumb feelings. He will help her put distance because she can’t.

She hates relying on others but this… She is too weak for this.

After changing into another shirt, Gem makes a stop in the bathroom, not fully closing the door. She splashes some more water on her face, glad that the redness is fully gone now. It must’ve been gone by the time Tango saw her, or he would’ve said something, which he didn’t.

She sighs, crying her face into a towel, then her hands fall on the edge of the sink. She stares at it, tracing the circle of the drain with her eyes.

The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time.

A hand appears on the corner of her eyes, gently placed on top of hers, squeezing her fingers lightly. Tenderly. So warm.

“Are you okay, Gem? I didn’t hear you at all today. Had me worried,” Pearl says, and there is a playful tone in her voice, worry as her undertone.

Gem looks up to see Pearl, whole body freezing. Pearl has a kind smile, beautiful eyes. And Gem’s lips part without words. It took this long for Gem to realize that being able to hear them three means that they were able to hear her and Joel all this time too. She feels stupid, but her mind is clouded by Pearl’s presence to really be able to think about anything.

She nods, small. Pearl is unconvinced, but she doesn’t push it either.

“Alright then, if you say so.” Pearl smiles, so pretty. Gem fixates on her lips, then drops her head when she realizes. Her eyes fall on their hands, Pearl’s almost covering hers fully. Her heartbeat is steady but loud, her breathing small and fragile. “Tango said you weren’t coming with us. I hope you can come hang out with us some time, Gem. You and Joel—”

Yes, Gem almost blurts out, so ready to give up everything to do as Pearl wants.

But her lips remain shut, giving a non-committed shrug in return.

“—but mostly you.” Pearl whispers beside her ear, her cheek brushing against Gem’s, the touch sending shivers down Gem’s spine. Her lips brush against her jaw, and Gem has to force her eyes shut, holding her breath as Pearl lingers close. So close.

Then she is pulling away, and Gem can’t face her.

“I’ll see you later, Gem!”

Pearl is gone after that, the bathroom door left ajar like she’d never even been there in the first place. Gem raises a hand to her face, fingertips brushing the places that Pearl had touched. Slowly, she opens her eyes to see her hand, the back of it, still tingling.

She holds her fist against her thundering heart, a whirlwind of emotions suddenly rushing over her.

There’s a chance.

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #gempearl #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #smallishbeans #panfic

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rei-ismyname · 23 hours ago

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Logan tried to murder Chuck. What then?

After the sun set on Krakoa and the dust settled, Charles Xavier surrendered himself to 'human authorities.' He was being transported to his super prison built by Reed Snitchards and Tony Nark when...

Logan came to kill him in a very unsubtle way. Surely those guards died or at minimum suffered serious permanent injuries. What little we get of his motivation is an objection to Chuck's time as Sentinel X - killing a bunch of humans. Logan Behavior, basically. Certainly hypocrisy.

Pretty stylish entrance though, The Shining style. He's just about to gut him after Chuck declines explaining himself or speaking at all. Keep in mind resurrection Protocols just phased into another dimension - Logan is aiming to kill Xavier permanently (comic book permanent obviously) here despite the fact he's going to prison for life. He'd actually be subverting punitive state justice here.

I hardly need to say that this is pretty extreme for Logan. He's killed countless people, but for the last few decades he's worshipped the ground Charles walks on. After AvX, when Chuck committed suicide by Phoenix, Logan appointed himself the custodian of 'the dream' and ran the school (though he renamed it after Jean because he's a creepy and petty man.) Cyclops is often held up as Chuck's heir, but I think Logan is just as much. (Though Jean and Storm beat them both out and surpass him.) Maybe this is a hypocritical broken pedestal moment.

Magneto objects, freezing him in place and proclaiming 'no more martyrs.'

Did you know 9/10 failed murderers say 'cripes?'

Then he yeets him out of the prison and levitates it so he can't get back in. Mags and Chuck have a chat and we see nothing of Logan until Wolverine #1.

These people all need therapy. Emotional intelligence so low.

That murderous unilateral motivation seems to have cooled - 'Charles doin' what he did' is third on his list of things that took their toll. Not to minimise his pain, but everyone else has experienced those things too. Many had it worse. Scott, for example, was tortured for six months with his eyes sewn shut and a broken back (which... healed somehow.) If someone else was doing this he'd call them out at best, more likely he'd tell them to get over it. This is #Logan Behavior, though it's weird he doesn't mention Daken's death.

I'm 99% sure this is next chronologically. Scott says Logan was 'in the area so he asked him to investigate' - 'the area' being Santo Marco, a fictional South American country that Magneto briefly conquered in 1963. The X-Men answered his distress call.

No mention of Chuck here, and he greets Scott warmly. No thank you though. They patch him up back at the Factory. Looks like he does have use for X-Men.

Wolverine can absolutely give up. It's his thing.

From 'I never should have left the woods' this has to be after Wolverine #1, but before Uncanny X-Men #1-4, because that takes place over a few days and the phone call between Rogue and Scott implies so. We only get the end of this conversation, but it's very safe to assume it was a soft recruitment offer and assumption of a family relationship. No mention of Chuck here either. He claims he's done, citing Krakoa as a loss. It is a loss, but it also bought back the 16 million Genoshan dead and established a mutant paradise in a heaven dimension - one he could have gone to.

Also, Logan didn't build shit. He had nothing to do with Genosha, in fact he opposed and obstructed it. He bailed on Utopia and the narrative kept genocidal threats away from the school. He had little to do with building Krakoa itself and while he went on the missions he was asked to, he remained a skeptic the entire time. He didn't trust the island and lived on the moon in a polycule. Anyway, he tells Scott not to come looking for him. I promise you he wouldn't say that to Jean.

She's right, they're not strategists.

Looks like he's fine hanging out with Rogue and Gambit. Rogue seemed fine with joining Cyclops and co, but doesn't argue at all when Logan (who is hours away from leaving and has no intention of staying) shoots it down for... reasons? They were X-Men enough when they rescued him from Santo Marco, ingrate.

Neither should struggle to imagine a community 'run' by Scott Summers. Logan has been living with him for at least 3 years and he wasn't everywhere when Logan and Jean were banging. Rogue was on a Krakoan X-Men team with Scott and he and Jean prepped new leaders and stepped back. They all considered themselves Krakoan and Scott 'lived to serve.' How does it end this way? The Chuck question answers itself, though Logan doesn't say 'I wish Magneto didn't stop me killing him' or something. Scott? Uhhh, you took this misanthrope's grumbling as gospel. Go to Alaska and say hi! Or maybe he'll call you. Kate? Uhm, she just told you. She broke in Fall of X, you know this.

Interestingly, Logan uses the term 'fill Chuck's chair.' I thought he was quitting the parts that don't work? 'Why do you even want to?' should be self explanatory. Rogue receives a phone call after this from Scott, and she says he's 'the last person she wants to speak to.' Maybe Logan is right and he shouldn't be around people. He infected Rogue with Scott haterism very quickly.

The Outliers show up and less than a day later he leaves, heading for the nearest forest. Even the swamp hag that guts him thinks he's a whining bitch. Logan is aware that Rogue's group are planning a prison break, that children are being hunted, though it doesn't stop him leaving.

Put all this together and it paints a very human portrait of a traumatized person pushing everyone away, albeit in the most immature way possible. This is what Magneto referred to when he said Logan Behavior, and he's right. If I was talking about a real life person it'd be unforgivably callous, but I'm not. I wrote this piece to interrogate his continuity from Krakoa to FTA, and I was expecting it to make less sense to be honest. As I said, this is textbook trauma response. It portrays that well, but the whiplash of Logan going from 'murder Chuck no matter the collateral damage' to 'Chuck did bad things but Cyclops is worse - don't be friends with him, Rogue' is severe and unsatisfying.

Uncanny #700 was one of the last things written for Krakoa, so it's likely that information wasn't available for FTA writers. Except Logan and Kate had both sworn they'd kill Chuck with plenty of notice, so I don't think that deserves a pass. Is anyone surprised by this? Maybe I should just write a post that says 'From The Ashes doesn't care about smooth continuity and has clumsily broken up these teams by fiat. Just ask Havok, Polaris, Angel, Storm, Omega Red, Jubilee and Shogo, etc etc. Also, it's pretty fucking mid' and pin it on my Tumblr.

That's no fun though. Even when it sucks, when it's safe and nostalgic, when everything you loved has been swept away and replaced with cardboard cutouts, when it's 'fine I guess', and even when it's great; the play's the thing. I love the X-Men and fans have as much ownership of the story as anyone. Not entitlement, just the right to be a part of the narrative, close to the characters. I find it fun and if I ever don't I'll stop (or spend a few years covering Krakoa). I hope you do too. Importantly, you should be critical of the things you love in good faith. As for Marvel the capitalist entity - all bets are off. Fuck em. They do it for the money, we do it for the love.

#x comics #wolverine #charles xavier #krakoa #professor x #magneto #cyclops #comics #x men #marvel #from the ashes #rogue #gambit #nightcrawler #logan behavior #marvel critical #cherik

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ilyrafe · 4 hours ago

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𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒏 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄. | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐

pairing: hitman!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 1k

part one

taglist: @starkeyvhs @toterry @httpsdrewstarkey @gillybear17 @baby19sthings @zya8tracks

a/n: this is such a shitty chapter but please bear with me i had such a terrible creative block!!! god i hate it here

a stroke of luck.

when joshua was found, both rafe and y/n were far. well, rafe wasn’t that far, but she had really disappeared. the next day, rafe still wanted to send a message to her and let her know that everything was done, but that number didn’t exist anymore.

as a precaution, rafe was always around, wanting to know if there was any suspicion about joshua’s death, but apparently, everyone there knew that he was “a time bomb about to explode”. the neighbors saw y/n leaving with all of her belongings, so they assumed that he couldn’t take it and took his own life.

“i knew one of them would end up dead,” an older woman told a friend, and rafe paid attention. “and i prayed it wouldn’t be her, because she was a good person. he would get drunk and when she would say she’d leave, he’d threaten to kill her and then himself. i’ve heard their arguments!”

in the end, y/n received a good amount of life insurance for still being legally married to him. good for her.

and life went on, as it would. as it should.

rafe continued his infamous business of killing for money, and whenever someone contacted him, he was disappointed that it wasn’t her. as much as he didn’t want to admit, he always caught himself thinking about her and wondering how she was doing, if she was okay.

rafe has seen grotesque scenes that no longer bother him, but imagining joshua putting his dirty hands around her neck, or scaring her makes his blood boil, because he’s done it before with his own sister, and that’s his biggest regret. if there’s a heaven and a hell, rafe knows very well where he’s going, and he’s already come to terms with it, but one thing he’ll never do again in his life is to be violent towards another woman - any woman.

even a hitman needs to have some morals.

the fear in sarah’s eyes still disturbs him. when he goes to sleep, that’s all he dreams of. he relives the moment all night long, and then he drinks to forget it, but it doesn’t help - the image of him nearly killing his own blood is too much.

when he remembers that day at the diner, he can’t get the image of her out of his head - she looked so small, so defeated. deep down, rafe knows all of the answers to the questions he asks himself. he’s smarter than he gives himself credit for.

(...)

the life of a hitman can actually be very lonely, something rafe still struggles to deal with. every once in a while he goes for a walk in the park when his mind is going places he doesn’t want to go.

an autumn afternoon in chicago is like a scene from a painting, where nature’s colors are in their full, fiery splendor. as he steps outside, the air is crisp but not too cold, just enough to warrant a light jacket, with the occasional breeze that carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves. the city’s famous skyline stretches against a sky that shifts between deep blue and soft gray, as the sun begins its descent, casting golden light over everything.

he’s trying so hard to see beauty in things, to keep himself afloat. rafe is numb. not even the hardest drug can make him feel anything. sometimes he does admire the nature around him, and to see the blue of the sky, in its immensity, makes him realize that, in a good way, none of this is real. none of this means anything.

we are all just cells, wandering around.

the sounds of the city seem a little softer in the fall, as people slow down to take in the beauty around them. a gentle hum of traffic can be heard in the distance, while the occasional laughter of children playing outside or the sound of a distant train passing through the city adds to the ambiance.

rafe has always had a soft spot for children. well, not exactly children, but what they represent. a kind of purity that seems untouched by the complexities and burdens of the adult world. it’s in the way they see the world with wide-eyed wonder, where everything is new and full of possibility. their joy is spontaneous, like a burst of laughter that rings out without reason, simply because they are in the moment. their innocence is also in their ability to feel deeply, yet let go just as easily. they live in the present, their hearts and minds unburdened by the weight of regret or worry. oh, and their unwavering belief in the goodness of the world. that sense of trust in the world, in people, in their own ability to be loved and to love in return, is a beautiful, fragile thing, one that people often lose or forget as they grow older (rafe knows it better than anyone else), but can still glimpse in the eyes of a child.

he would give anything to feel that way again.

whenever he remembers his childhood, rafe feels a sense of regret, an overwhelming desire to find a way to go back in time. oh, if only he could. be a child with no real worries. run through the freshly mowed grass, stumble and fall, and be comforted by his mother.

perhaps his luck has run out. he’s managed to leave a life of crime behind and come out of it mostly unscathed, he can’t just think that he can expect to find love - any type of love - in the same lifetime.

while walking through the park, rafe notices a young woman sitting on the grass, enjoying an ice cream. she seems carefree, just in the moment, observing everything around her. as he walks, he manages to get closer to her and... oh my god.

it’s her.

with each step taken towards her, rafe feels his heart beat faster. a mix of anxiety and excitement for finally having found her, after a year.

he stops right next to her, with his hands on the front pockets of his jacket, and waits until she notices his presence. when she does, she looks up, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“hi.”

“oh, my god. cameron?!”

i'd love to know your thoughts!!!

#my writings #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey series

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totowlff · 16 hours ago

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chapter fourty-nine — a single wish

➝ at his 70th birthday, niki has only one wish. it's up to elisabeth to make it true.

➝ word count: 1,9k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: back from interlagos and to the keyboard. hope you enjoy this chapter.

FEBRUARY, 2019

Silence finally reigned in the room. After nearly an hour of pacing back and forth, rocking Andi and humming some random tune, he finally fell asleep. A relief for Elisabeth, especially after a night full of different, not to say conflicting, emotions.

Placing the baby carefully in the crib, she held her breath for a few seconds, watching her son stir. “Please, please,” Elisabeth thought, pressing her lips together as the boy let out a sigh, finally seeming comfortable enough.

Mentally thanking the universe, she left the room, walking slowly down the hall toward the master suite of the penthouse. It was in these moments that Elisabeth noticed the aches in her body and how tired she felt. Motherhood had proven to be a constant challenge, especially with Andi.

From the early days, the little boy had shown himself to be demanding and impatient. If he wasn’t in his mother’s arms at the moment he decided he was hungry, he would cry loudly. Burping him was another dilemma, as he only liked it when his father did it. Bath time wasn’t easy either, especially since Elisabeth had trouble with some movements due to her C-section incision, while diaper changes always ended with someone getting peed on.

However, his big, toothless smiles made it all worth it.

Entering the bedroom, Elisabeth found Toto sitting on the bed, reading something on his iPad with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose.

— Is he asleep?

— Yes — she murmured, collapsing onto the mattress heavily.

— Do you want me to take over tonight? — the team principal asked, lowering the tablet onto his lap.

— No need, you have to go back to Barcelona tomorrow, you need to sleep well — Elisabeth replied, rubbing her eyes — Besides, I need time to think…

— Think about what?

She hesitated to answer, staring at the ceiling for long seconds. In theory, it wasn’t something Elisabeth should discuss with Toto, considering his position on the team and the board of investors. However, before all that, he was her partner and confidant, the man she had chosen to share her life and start a family with. There were no secrets between them.

— About my father's offer.

Toto raised an eyebrow.

— Offer? Is that why he called you earlier?

She simply nodded, her mind drifting back to hours before when they had been at her parents’ apartment celebrating Niki’s 70th birthday.

Despite being a significant milestone, the celebration had to be reduced to a dinner with the children, their partners, and the grandchildren due to the ex-driver's still fragile health. The previous month, he had been hospitalized again due to a flu, so caution was necessary.

— But next year, I want to go back to Vegas — Niki said, drawing laughter from the group — I deserve to celebrate in style, preferably with all those dancers.

The dinner went by smoothly, with conversations filling the air while everyone enjoyed the schnitzel prepared by Marlene and Claire. Between Elisabeth and Niki, Andi, in his stroller, seemed to follow the discussions with his attentive blue eyes. After the meal, it was time for the grandfather to spoil his youngest grandchild, joined by Lennon and Ellison, who held his little hands and made funny faces to make him laugh.

The scene was sweet for Elisabeth. If she had once feared her father would never hold her child, now there was only joy in seeing him joke and smile broadly as Andi babbled his responses and tried to grab the oxygen catheter or the cap his grandfather was wearing.

— No, no, opa needs this, little one — he replied good-naturedly, gently moving the curious fingers away from the nasal cannula.

After playing with the kids for a while, Niki handed the baby over to Marlene and stood up, asking Elisabeth to accompany him to his office. It wasn’t uncommon for him to use her visits to get updates on his business affairs.

However, this time the situation took a different turn when, after placing the oxygen concentrator on the desk, he sat down heavily and asked a question.

— Mauslein, do you like your job?

Elisabeth blinked.

— Well, yes, I studied for it…

— I’m talking about working at Mercedes, in Formula 1. Do you like it?

She smiled.

— Oddly enough, I do. It’s wonderful to see the work pay off on the track, the victories, the championship titles — Elisabeth said — Besides, I like working with Toto; we make a good team, especially with you being away…

— That’s good — Niki replied, taking off his red cap. At that moment, she realized how fragile he looked — And that’s why I want to make you an offer.

— An offer?

— You know I won’t be back in the paddock anytime soon, especially after this last hospitalization, right? I need to focus on my recovery before thinking about anything else — her father explained, his hands resting on his belly — This means I won’t be able to be active in my role with Mercedes. Not like you.

Elisabeth crossed her arms, somewhat nervous about the direction of the conversation.

— Dad, I’ll be on leave until May; it’s not like…

— You’ll be back before me, Mauslein. And thinking about that, about the team and everyone in the operation, I wanted to offer you my shares and the position of non-executive director.

A small incredulous laugh escaped her lips.

— You’re kidding, right? — Elisabeth asked, completely thrown off — You’ve got to be joking…

— Do you think I would joke about this? — Niki retorted, serious.

It was in that split second she realized it was a real offer. One so huge and meaningful that Elisabeth paused for long moments, considering how resolute and sincere her father had been in saying those words.

— What did you tell him? — Toto asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. Looking at the team principal’s face, Elisabeth saw the concern mixed with exhaustion.

— I asked him if he was sure about what he was offering, if he understood the magnitude of it because there’s a lot of money involved, especially now with the team having grown so much. And he said yes — she replied, turning to face Toto, one hand between her face and the pillow — He said he sees no reason not to do it since I already do most of the work for him.

— Well, he’s not lying.

— But the thing is, I don’t know anything about cars. I have no idea how to contribute to making the car better. I’ve never driven a race car, I don’t know how to deal with the drivers, I… I can’t replace him, Toto.

The team principal gently placed a hand on her cheek.

— And you won’t have to, because the team doesn’t need a replacement. We need people who add value, and you do that every day.

— How? I just say my father’s opinions in meetings; people only see me as his daughter, not as an executive or anything like that. I’m Niki’s representative, nothing more.

— Liesl, you know you’re more than that. You know you can deliver much more, especially in an important position like shareholder or non-executive director — Toto said softly, his eyes locked on hers — But first, you need to believe you’re capable of taking on that role.

The words left Elisabeth thoughtful. Everyone around her said she was fully capable of being a successful executive, the woman who would continue the work Niki had already done. Yet the fear still lingered, like a ghost haunting her since she was young, whispering in her ear that she would never be successful, that everything she had was because of the right connections, that she didn’t deserve any of it.

— Do you believe it?

— I will always believe in you, Liesl — he murmured, kissing the tip of her nose — But that’s a conversation for tomorrow. Rest now, my love.

Smiling a little, Elisabeth snuggled against the pillow, allowing herself to drift into a light, dreamless sleep, periodically interrupted by Andi’s protests through the baby monitor, announcing he was hungry, had a dirty diaper, or just wanted his mother’s attention.

Elisabeth allowed herself to ponder the offer for a few more days, alternating between reading team reports and taking care of Andreas. The boy slept against her chest as his mother read one of the latest performance reports from Mercedes’ finance department. The numbers were good, but changes in structure would have to be made, especially with the new financial regulations being implemented in 2021.

“We’ll definitely need more people in finance”, she thought, running a hand over her forehead.

It was the following weekend when Elisabeth finally found the courage to go to Lichtental to discuss Niki’s proposal. It was the last day of preseason testing in Barcelona, a good enough excuse for her and Andi to visit her parents’ apartment.

As always, Marlene picked up the grandson as soon as they arrived, chatting and playing with the boy and the dogs, who wagged their tails excitedly. Elisabeth then headed to the living room, where Niki was sitting in front of the television.

— Good morning, Mauslein — he greeted her, receiving a kiss on the cheek in return.

— Good morning, how are we?

— With an oil leak in the car — Niki grumbled as the silver car in the garage was shown on TV — Valtteri’s going to lose the morning session because of it.

— What a mess — Elisabeth muttered, crossing her arms.

— Yeah, a mess — he replied, adjusting the oxygen catheter in his nose.

Silence stretched out in the living room, with the sound of Marlene talking to Andreas and the dogs in the background making her feel more tense.

— Dad, I… I wanted to talk about your offer.

Niki glanced at her.

— Are you going to accept?

She let out a sigh.

— Partially. I accept becoming a shareholder, but I can't take your seat on the board. I don’t want your position on the team to be seen as some sort of inheritance…

— No one’s going to see it that way — he started to grumble, but his daughter interrupted.

— Everyone will see it that way, especially considering that I’m your daughter and I’m engaged to Toto. It's already enough having to hear people in the paddock hoping I'll get Mercedes in case of a divorce…

Niki laughed.

— You shouldn’t listen to those kinds of people.

— How can I not? They're saying what everyone…

— Elisabeth, if I’d cared about everything people said about me, especially after the accident, I’d have never left my house again — her father said, resting his hands on his belly — When I showed up in Monza, I had to face an entire team convinced I shouldn’t have even left home. The old Ferrari had already put Reutemann in my place, sure I’d never race again.

— It's not the same…

— It's exactly the same, Elisabeth. Your confidence has to be bigger than other people’s doubts. And there's no better place to practice that than in an environment like a boardroom.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. Niki was right, she needed to trust herself, her instincts as a businesswoman with years of experience. However, Elisabeth wanted to do things the right way, not hastily or carelessly.

— If you believe I should be the non-executive director, I accept your decision. But first, I want the proposal to be deliberated by the board and accepted by them.

Niki smiled.

— I’m sure they’ll accept, Mauslein.

#toto wolff #wlffog #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #toto wolff fanfic #scwlff #toto wolff x oc #formula 1 x oc #formula one x oc #f1 x oc #formula one fic

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