#// and now you're trying to make a proper effort to connect with me'

[josephquinnswhore]

disarmed - joel miller x female reader.

Summary: you’ve been travelling with Joel for months, harbouring feelings for one another. Tommy helps the two of them realise how they feel.

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: mutual pining, fluff, mentioned a few times that joel is still grieving Sarah, jealousy, possession, age gap. Joel is in his forties and reader mid-twenties. Post outbreak fic. Reader had some dirty thoughts about joel.

Note: I’ve been awol for three months. Hello friends!! @katiexpunk Part two > testament to you.

"Ain’t gonna give up on me are ya?"

Joel calls out, checking over his shoulder to see if you're still behind him. You two have been travelling for hours, with the crunch of your boots against the snow that began to fall on the previous evening—the first official day of winter. They needed to reach Jackson before a mound of snow covered the area, or otherwise they would never know how long they would be there in this endless stretch of open space. With the possibilities of being stuck in a snowstorm, it dawned on them; the pressure to get to their destination.

Joel's crooked, uneven, scowling facade did nothing to keep you out or to halt your innate desire to preserve yourself by desperately attempting to make a connection with him, but for some reason, you had managed to accomplish what no one else could.

Make him feel affection, which of course, came with the pure unbridled fear at the thought of something happening to you. A fear he had not felt since..

“Not long to go now,” he murmurs, trying not to think about his past, his voice softening as he waits for you to catch up, he can see you are making the effort to keep up, your legs picking up their stride in an attempt to match his pace. Even so, at this rate they wouldn’t make it to Jackson before nightfall.

The weary look you give does nothing to comfort him either, internally, he cant stop any thought about you, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you were feeling, other than the pure exhaustion he could feel radiating from your pained expression and lame movements.

They were nearly at Jackson, to Tommy, after months of travelling and struggling for food, fighting against raiders and infected, Joel had made it his personal mission to keep you safe, to get you to Jackson. They had to make it today, before the sun fell, they were struggling for rations, between them, they had a can of baked beans left, two decades old and barely edible, it's clear to Joel that you’re losing hope.

“I know, not long, right?” You manage to reply after a few moments of thinking to yourself. The two of you had been surviving on scraps for weeks, you couldn't remember what it was like to eat a proper meal. For your stomach not to grumble and ache in hunger.

“When we get to Jackson they’ll have a bed for us, a real bed, probably a proper shower too, an’ food. Somethin’ for us to look forward to.” He glances your way, attempting to lift your spirits.

A crack of a smile stretches your lips, thinking about hot water, a real warm meal. “I don't remember the last time I had a real shower.”

“You’ll be able to finally wash that grease out of your hair too,” he mutters under his breath with a cheeky grin. He could only wonder how bad the two of them must smell at this point. Hes probably grown accustomed to the smell of his own putrid stench. A mix of grease, gunpowder, blood, dirt and body odour. You never complained though.

“Like you can talk, the stench coming from you is foul, old man.” A playful jest comes from you, one that makes joel smile, before feigning offence, he brings his hand to his chest as he scoffs. “Like you're any better.”

His lips turn into a genuine smile as the two of them share a light hearted moment, something that feels like it had been weeks since had happened – he can't help but admit to himself that.. it feels nice. That he enjoys seeing this side of you, that he could be the one to make you happy.

The playful smile on your face slowly slips into the same tight line it had been for weeks on end. The monotonous expression Joel had become so accustomed to.

“Whats on your mind? Somethin’ botherin’ you?” Joel asked, sensing that something was off with you.

“Hm? Oh, no I'm good, just get stuck in my head sometimes I guess.” You manage to excuse yourself.

He knew very well what that was like, he himself spent a lot of time stuck in his head, they were more alike than he had anticipated. “That’s alright, I understand.” He reassures her.

You can't help the way you feel something for him, noting the way his hazel eyes always softened when he looked at you, his voice soft. But the constant fear nagged you, about the age gap, he was in his forties, and you only in your mid twenties. Did he see you as a kid? Did he see you as a woman?

Joel always tried to remind himself that you weren't a little girl, even with the evident age gap between the two, he still saw you as a capable, beautiful woman. He couldn't deny the way he felt when he was the one to make you laugh, those beautiful eyes of yours and how expressive they were. He couldn't deny he felt something for you, which puzzled him, it was a feeling he thought he would never experience.

The snow begins to fall heavier, and with how long they had to go to Jackson, Joel knew it would be best if they stopped for the night, to try and find some shelter for them, for her. As if an otherworldly god hears their thoughts, a small cabin comes into the near distance. You hope wordlessly that Joel would offer to stop for the evening. If not, begrudgingly for a few hours, at least.

He motions for you to follow him, in the direction of the cabin. “That looks like a safe place to camp for the night, whaddya think?” To Joel, this was an easy decision, he was tired of seeing you shiver when you camped outside, clutching to the sleeping bag for a sliver of warmth, the thin material never did much to sooth your chattering teeth. He doesn't want you sleeping outside ever again, if he had any say over the matter.

“You think it’s safe?” Your eyes scan the area, it looks abandoned.

Joel nods as he cracks open the door, scowling as the door creaks open loudly. He leads the way inside the empty cabin, he does a quick scan of the place before he steps inside, out of the snow. Its a fraction warmer inside, something you can appreciate as you close the door behind you.

“Stay close.” He whispers, keeping an eye out, the cabin was clear after searching for a few minutes, it’s a small area, a broken lounge in the same living space as the kitchen. The floorboards in the corner are starting to rot due to a leak in the roof, some of the snow falling through to the inside of the cabin. “Looks like we're all good in here, I’ll look around and see what I can find, we’ll sleep here for the evenin’.”

You shrug off the heavy pack that had been clinging in the same sore spot for hours on end, shoulders aching dully as you roll them, reaching your hands back to massage the sore spots. Your fingers are cold and stiff as you unclip your sleeping bag from your pack, setting it up in the small kitchen area, away from the corner that has a small leak in the roof.

“This place ain't so bad, better than most places we been sleepin’.” Before Joel can relax, he eyes a bookcase, it's large enough to cover the front door, with one push it topples over, with a grunt, the bookshelf falls securely over the front door, keeping them safe inside.

You look around a little in the kitchen, seeing some old trinkets covered in a thick layer of dust, a windchime, it creates a beautiful twinkle as your fingers caress the cold material, clanging against each other. Going through the draws, you have a look at a faded image, picking it up to inspect it, your heart drops, the image depicts a young family, two parents and a small baby, all smiling into the camera, in this very kitchen where you stood now.

You can’t help but wonder how long ago they resided here. If they were still alive.

“Must’ve been a family’s cabin…” His eyes glance at the photo as he leans down to rummage through the cupboards, finding a few cans of veggies that had been left behind, he sets it down on the bench next to you. “We made out pretty good on food this time. Are you hungry?”

Shakily, you return the photo back to where you found it. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

“You okay?” He asks, sensing the uneasiness in your voice. He grabs the tin cans of food and skillfully pops the lids open with his knife, handing a can of food to her. He nods towards their sleeping bags and they both sit down on the floor, he can't ignore the ache in his back and knees as he stretches his legs out on the floor. He tried not to think about it, sitting here with you on the hardwood floors eating out of a two decade old can of veggies was nothing worth complaining about, compared to the hell you two had endured over the months.

They were together at least. They made it this far.

“Yeah, I guess. Just doesn't get easier, you know? Thinking about it. They had a baby.” Hesitantly, you start eating with Joel, who seems silent.

He eventually nods in agreement. “Not everyone makes it.” He speaks quietly, even after all this time, he still mourns, he's been reminded of his loss time and time again, the image of the family was no exception.

They eat in silence, and you set the empty can beside your sleeping bag, sighing as you snuggle into the little warmth it provides. “Try and get some rest, we’ll head out at first light.”

“Goodnight Joel.”

He watches you settle, a small grunt escapes him as he keeps his rifle close, he leans against the wall. “Goodnight darlin’.”

“I'm sorry about your daughter Joel.” You whisper, before sparing him a glance and rolling over away from him. Joel watched you, the words pierce him, memories of his daughter haunt him, but he can't blame you. “Yeah, me too.” He mutters under his breath.

Joel stays awake, he's too restless to sleep at the thought of Sarah, losing her, relieving the pain and anguish of twenty years without her. Yet, the pain was as palpable as it was the night it happened.

The sun rises, and Joel rolls his sleeping bag, clipping it onto his pack. He notices you stirring awake. “Mornin’.” He grumbles tiredly. He stretches his neck, a loud crunch fills the air. “We should get goin’. I want to get to Jackson before midday.” He groaned as he stood, his knees clicking into place, worn and aching, the cold didn't help.

You wipe the sleep from your eye and pack the sleeping bag up quickly, not wanting to make Joel wait, he seemed pretty restless. Joel shoves the bookshelf off the door, opening it and takes a weary step outside into the daylight. He couldn't wait to see Tommy, he couldn't stop thinking about a shower, and a decent meal. They had been surviving in the wilderness for so long, Joel wasn't sure what he would do being back in civilization.

You pause in the doorway, watching Joel walk outside, his worn boots crunching in the fresh snow. “Just.. just wait a sec.” You wearily call out to him, looking back inside the cabin.

“What is it?” Joel asked, stopping in his tracks, turning to look back at you, a confused look on his face. You take a few quickened steps back into the cabin, pulling the drawer out to find the photograph of the family, before rushing outside to meet Joel. “Someone should remember them.”

Joel looks between you and the cabin, wondering what on earth you were doing. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, his voice gruff and full of confusion. He stands there for what felt like forever, watching as you return with the faded photograph in your hand. He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

You shove the photograph into the back pocket of your jeans. “Ready to go?”

Joel looks at you, a serious expression on his weathered face. “Yeah.” He motions for you to continue walking, he tries to push behind the thought of the family as they walk from the cabin. For some reason, there was a warmth in his chest, at your actions, something so miniscule could show the kind of person you were. Perhaps not all hope was lost with someone so compassionate like you left in the world.

It was relatively quiet between the two of you for the rest of the trip, only a few miles, the snowfall had come to a halt overnight, so the snow wasn't much of an obstacle, being so far away from any town, there were near to no infected, nor other people.

Finally, ahead, there it was. They had finally made it to Jackson, to Tommy.

“Shit. This is Jackson?” You ask in wonder, taking in the heavily fortified walls, the men patrolling on the walls with rifles. A haven.

“Sure as hell looks like it.” Joel felt himself finally relax, for the first time in months, even if only for a moment, they had made it. “C’mon, we can get inside before the snow starts comin’ down again.” He picks up his pace towards the gate.

“Are you sure they'll let us in?” You knew Tommy was here, but the anxiety of being turned away was palpable. Joel glances back, reassuring you with a small smile. “Dont worry darlin’, Tommy knows we’re comin’.”

The gates open, and the hinges whine in protest.

“Joel, you ugly bastard is it really you?” A southern voice calls out, as the gate opens, and you watch as a man embraces Joel, similar in looks, if anything, less grey hair. “The hell took you so long?” The man asked, a joyous tone in his voice as he embraced Joel.

“Yeah, were not easy but we made it.” Joel huffed out a laugh. Tommy waves his hand, a brief gesture for the pair to follow him inside. Tommy looks over Joel’s shoulder as they walk. “Who’s this?”

You stand behind Joel, a meek smile on your lips as you introduce yourself. Tommy smirks at Joel. Joel's face reddened, his younger brother’s stare made him heat up.

“Just get us set up Tommy.” Joel muttered, avoiding the amused gaze from his brother. Tommy’s wolfish grin doesn't slip. “Sure thing, follow me.”

The odd interaction does not go missed as you watch the pair, following them to a house that Tommy had organised specifically for Joel. Tommy lets them into the house to look around and Joel speaks up. “We've been out in the wild for a long while, and we're happy to finally be able to settle down for a bit.” Joel explains, looking at Tommy.

“I can imagine. Well, i'll leave ya alone to settle in for now. Were havin’ a get together later tonight at the hall, you should come. It’ll be good for you to spend some time away from each other for a bit.” Tommy jests.

You look between the two men, confused. “So where am I going to be staying?” You knew that Joel would probably want to be away from you, now that he had done his part in bringing you here safely.

Joel's head snapped in your direction and he stared at you for a moment. “With me.” He said, a little too quickly. “You'll be staying with me, here.” Joel’s eyes dart back to Tommy as if he was warning him against some smart arsed response. He looked a little embarrassed.

It didn't take an idiot to notice the glance you and Joel shared. Tommy smiled ear to ear as he watched the interaction between you two. “Alright.. Well you two can get settled here. Holler at me if you need anything, alright?”

As Joel nods, Tommy steps outside the house, leaving the pair alone again. Setting your pack down, you admire the house. “Nice place..”

Joel hums, nodding in agreement, setting his pack down next to your own. “Its alot nicer than where we've been campin’. And there's electricity.” Looking at the light Tommy had flickered on when he walked in.

“You mean we can shower?” Joel grins in amusement at your sudden excitement. “Hot water and all princess, why don't you go on and have the first shower?” The bathroom itself was simple, but it felt surreal to have electricity and running water.

“Are you sure?” Joel nods, “I can wait, its all yours.”

Joel closes the bathroom door behind you, and explores the bedroom, ruffling through the closet as he decides what to wear to this stupid get together tonight.

The hot water feels incredible, soothing the aches in your body, as you lather the vanilla scented soap, spreading the suds to wash the grime off your body. The colour of the water that runs down the drain is appalling, dark brown from grease and dirt. The shampoo is fruity, and a divine smelling scent you hadn't ever smelt in your lifetime. Lathering the clear concoction, you take your time to scrub the grease and disgusting things that stick to your strands of hair and scalp.

Its almost painful to shut the water off, but you know that Joel deserves to experience the hot water too, stepping out, you run your hand over the fogged up mirror, and hardly recognise yourself.

You slip on the clothes that had been provided for you, dark wash jeans and a long sleeved, tight fitting brown shirt. It accentuates your body shape wonderfully.

You look like a brand new woman as you emerge into the bedroom seeing Joel sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey.”

Joel looks up at you, his eyes widening as he takes in your form. You were even more beautiful than before, you looked radiant. He quickly stood, clearing his throat and he tried to keep his composure. “Hey darlin’.” He manages to utter out, his voice a little low.

Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze, hazel eyes roaming your body. “You gonna have a shower before we go?”

Joel glances down at himself, he now looked completely filthy compared to her, realisation sinking in.

“Y-yeah I think I will.. I can wash up in a minute.” As he looks back up at you, he notices your lingering gaze on him.

Were you checking him out too?

The tension is broken as Joel walks to the bathroom, taking his turn for the shower. Your mind wonders as the water runs, wondering what Joel looks like under all those clothes, if the hairs on his chest travel all the way down his torso, wondering if his tanned skin is the same delicious colour all over. A soft groan echos through the bathroom, gartering your attention, ears perking at the wonderfully intimate noise.

Something inside of you tingles in excitement at the thought, it's a hard thought to squash as you put your boots on. Joel's hair was damp, slicked back, the greying strands on his temple looked lighter than ever. The green and red flannel shirt hugged his torso and arms snugly, the jeans looked a size too small, clinging to his thick muscular thighs. His hazel eyes stared down at you as you looked him over, admiring him, he cant quite read the expression on your face.

Now it was your turn to play it cool, clearing your throat. “Ready to go?” Joel was still trying to come out of his haze as he stared at you, still trying to process the way you were checking him out. “Y-yeah…” He muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Yeah, let's.. Let's go..”

The hall is set up nicely, small bulbs hang from the ceiling emit a full yellow hue, there's an old record player, with vinyls underneath the bench it’s set up on, the melody of an old song echos through the hall as they walk in together, they gain some looks, from people dancing, young and old. Joel is brought into another hug by Tommy as he greets them. “Hey, look at you!” Tommy grinned. “You clean up nice.”

You silently agree, Joel looked as handsome as ever.

Joel's face runs hot as he hears Tommy’s tease, turning a rosy pink across his cheeks. He quickly brushed it off, rubbing the back of his neck as he attempted to maintain his composure. “Shut it, Tommy…” Joel muttered. Tommy grinned as he watched his brother's reaction, his eyes then shifting to you. “And you… look beautiful tonight.”

Joel watches your reaction to his brother's compliment, seeing you squirm a little. “Thanks Tommy. So… what exactly is this?”

Tommys grin remained as he motioned for you both to follow. “It's a get together, we do them to blow off a little bit of steam every once in a while, you know how it is.” Joel grunts in annoyance, not enthralled by the idea of being social, nor in the judgemental gaze of the community folk.

Your eyes follow the couples as they dance to the music. A sense of yearning overcomes you, wishing it were you and Joel dancing so intimately. It's something Tommy notices.

“What, you want to dance, girl?” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips. Joel's eyes widened as he tried to get his attention. “Tommy…” He muttered in warning, his voice a low grumble.

You didn't decline tommys suggestion. “You offerin’?” Perhaps, if anything, you would be lucky enough to make Joel jealous.

Tommy nods, taking you by the hand as he drags you to the makeshift dance floor, away from Joel. “Of course.”

Joel could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside him. He wouldn't admit that he was starting to become jealous at the sight of his brother dancing with you.

You and Tommy dance, occasionally sneaking glances at Joel, who still looked unimpressed by the situation. Tommy laughs whenever he sees Joel’s scowling face, enjoying winding his brother up. Tommy took his turn to tease you. “So… what's it like travelling with my grumpy ass brother?”

“He's not grumpy with me.” You answer simply. This, Tommy raises a brow at. “Oh really?” He glanced over her shoulder at his brother, who was now glowering at the pair. “Looks real grumpy to me..” He teased, letting out a small chuckle.

“Only cause you're pickin’ on him.” You counter.

“You're probably right.” It wasn't uncommon for Tommy to tease his older brother like this, the more he saw how annoyed Joel was becoming, the more he wanted to keep this up.

“I like him, alot.” You murmur between the two of you. Tommy’s teasing expression dies down, shifting to an expression of empathy. He was quiet in thought for a moment before he spoke. “I can tell…” he glances at joel. “He's got it bad for you too.”

“Thats a lie if I’ve ever heard it, Tommy Miller.” You scoff.

Tommy’s brows furrowed a little as he scoffs as your disbelief.”You can't seriously tell me you're that naive, it's obvious he likes you, girl.” Joel's gaze darkens, eyes fixated on them from across the hall.

“He doesn’t like me.”

“Have you seen the look on his face? He's got this…” Tommy gestured to his own face. “...stupid look on his face since we've been dancin’. And he's lookin’ like hes seconds away from murderin’ me.”

You shrug. “He's just protective of me.”

“And how do you two interact?” Tommy asked. “Like, he dont seem too fond of me touchin’ you.” Joel's eyes flicker down to the way his younger brother's hand held your waist.

“I’m guessin’ you got some kind of plan, then, to prove me wrong?”

Tommy’s face lit up when you say this. “What do you think, girl? Are you up for it?”

A groan leaves your lips. “What’re you thinkin’?”

Tommy smirks, gently and suddenly twirls you, bringing you flush to his chest, the action makes Joel scowl. “We’re gonna piss him off just enough for him to come over. Sound good?”

You don’t miss Joel's reaction, maybe it did mean something..

“Okay, let's see what you got.”

Tommy grins, he pulls you close to him, dipping his head down to your ear, whispering. “You tell me if he gets too annoyed for yer likin’... I don’t wanna cross no boundaries.”

Tommy is an impressive dancer, you admit, and as nice as it is to be spun around the dance floor, your mind wonders what it would be like to dance with Joel, how he would hold you, where he would place his hands, how firm his grip would be.

Tommy dips you, making sure to keep a tight grip around your waist, and his body as close to yours as he could manage without dropping you, Tommy leans in, his nose close to yours. “Bit dramatic don't you think?” You mutter, eyeing tommy. There was a chance Joel would kill Tommy for this, and Tommy leans in, as if he was intent on kissing you.

That was it for Joel, he reached his breaking point, watching as his younger brother's actions grew more bold and more suggestive. As soon as he saw how close you two were, how intimate that moment looked, he pushed his way through the dancefloor, barging people that were dancing to get to them. Tommy’s plan seemed to work, getting the reactive reaction out of Joel, your eyes widened as Tommy straightens you up, the older Miller brother approached them.

“Now you've done it.” You mumble.

“Oh no, what have I done?” Tommy teases. Before he could say anything else.. Joel yanks Tommy’s shoulder, separating him from you.

Joel lets out a low growl, pushing Tommy further away from you. “What’re you tryna pull, Tommy?”

“Whoa, whoa.” Tommy protests, shrugging his shoulder out of Joel's grasp. “I’m not pullin’ nothin’. I was dancin’ with the girl, is that a crime?” Joel grits his teeth together, trying to stop himself from punching his own brother.

“He wasn't doing anything Joel.” You murmur softly, trying to calm the man down, but it seems to only agitate Joel that you seemed to defend Tommy’s actions.

His nostrils flare as he looks at you. “You're takin’ his side then?”

“Hey, come on, it ain't like that.”

His irritation grows, did you really think this was okay? That this was just friendly dancing? “You really think he was just dancin’?” He mocked.

Your brows furrow as you sense Joel’s rising irritation towards you, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. “Yes, that's exactly what I think.”

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest, this was not going the way he wanted. “He was all up on you and you think this is innocent? You’re more naive than I thought.” He sneers, a low grumble leaving his lips.

It hurts, hearing Joel talk to you like this, and you shove past them before he can see the tears welling in your eyes. Tommy stops Joel from chasing after you.

Joel lets out an annoyed huff, turning to look at him. “Get outta the way, Tommy.”

“She likes you, Joel.” Tommy said, his hand not leaving his older brother's chest, needing him to listen.

Joel rolls his eyes, not believing that statement for a moment. “No, she doesn’t. She was just humouring you.” He tries to push past Tommy again.

“It was my idea joel. I thought if I turned up the heat a little you'd show her you're sweet on her.”

“...what?” Joel's face flushed pink hearing that. “You.. you were just trying to…” When he realised that this little stunt was all an attempt to show that they liked each other, it surprised him, was it so obvious?

“You know I wouldn't dream of makin’ a move on yer girl. Go on now, get her and tell her how you feel before she runs off on ya.”

Joel stares at his brother for a moment as his words sank in. Once it did, he nodded, understanding now that this was an attempt to try and make Joel admit his feelings for you. He didn't say another word as he turned out of the hall, rushing back to the home where he knew you would be.

You felt humiliated by the entire thing, by Joel being angry at you, he had never looked at you with that look of unbridled anger. It was always directed towards other people, the ones that had tried to hurt you. Never you.

Joel’s footsteps are heavy, easily recognisable to you. As he makes his way to you, where you’re packing your things into your pack, tears streaming down your swollen cheeks.

He calls your name, and you don’t respond, shoving things angrily into your pack, you know he’s at the bedroom door, watching you.

His heart sinks as he watches you, he steps closer to you, reaching his hand out to touch your shoulder, in an attempt to stop you. “Stop.” He muttered softly. “Stop packin’ yer things.”

When you don’t listen, Joel takes the pack from your hand and tosses it across the room, your possessions all spilling out into the wooden floor. “What the hell is your problem?” You snap.

“Would you just stop it?” He exclaims, frustration evident in his tone. He grabs your arm, firmly enough to garner your attention. Spinning you to look at him. “Why are you doin’ this?”

“You humiliated me!” You quip, voice trembling.

He exhaled, the warmth of his breath fans on your cheeks. “Listen..” he muttered. “Whatever you thought happened, it was the complete opposite. Tommy told me the whole plan, he was.. tryin’ to make me admit somethin’ to myself.. to you.”

Your cheeks warm as you realise Tommy snitched. “..oh.”

His large hands reach out to cup your face, turning your face upright, so your gaze would meet his own. “I care about you a lot…” he spoke after a moment, his expression softening. “I know I’m not real good at showin’ it, but I really..”

“I really do like you, darlin’.”

You sputter a response. “Tommy.. was right?”

Joel nods, his expression growing bashful as he tries to hide his embarrassment with a small snort. “Yeah.. stupid bastard was right.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying not to stumble over his words. “Have done since I saved ya all them months ago.” He confessed.

His hand runs through his hair again, something you’ve picked up as an anxious tick of his. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

It was a question Joel hadn’t really thought of himself, until now. “It’s hard for me to be vulnerable..” he admits. “I’m just… not really like that.”

It certainly wasn’t the first time he had trouble opening up about his feelings, but he wanted you to understand that he wanted to try, with you.

“Especially with.. the way the world is now.. I thought I shouldn’t get myself tied up in somethin’ that could just get me hurt later.”

The words that went unspoken, you understood. He was afraid of losing you. And suddenly, her eyes softened. “What changed? Seein’ me with Tommy?”

It was an embarrassing truth, one that he had to face. “Yeah..” he agreed, glancing away from you a moment. “It felt like someone was just punchin’ me in the guts. Seein’ you dancin’ with him I felt..” he groans. “Jealous.”

Unintentionally, you bat your lashes at him. “I was so convinced you wouldn’t like me, I made such a fool of myself.”

His brows scrunch together as he realises how his actions made you feel. He gently takes your face in his large hands, his thumb rubs your cheek in a soothing motion.

“Hey, you didn’t do any of that…” he murmured. “If anything I shoulda told ya ages ago.”

With his reassurance, you wrap your arms around his midsection, fisting the soft material of his flannel on his back. He doesn’t resist, although he relaxes from his tense stance, bringing his own arms around you. “How about we start over an’ I’ll do this proper?”

Your eyes widen, looking up at him. “Proper?”

He couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto his lips, your words make his heart flutter. “Y’know.. with you as my girl…” he murmurs nervously. “If.. if you’d like that?”

“I would like that.” You accept without hesitation, your voice soft as Joel leans his chin on your head, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Don’t ever try an’ run off again. I’ll hog tie ya to the bed if I have ta.” A soft laugh leaves your lips at his threat, and you raise a brow.

“That right? Maybe I’ll take off one day, just to test you.” Joel’s eyebrows raise, a daring look in his eyes, arms tightening around you as he lifts you off the ground effortlessly, tossing you onto the plush bed.

“Yer mine now sweetheart, ain’t letting you go, ever.” He murmurs against your neck, hovering over you, pressing a small kiss to the soft skin of your temple.

“Mine till the day I die.” He growled possessively, the tender touch was a concise movement, one that contradicted his possession.

Somehow, you had disarmed him. And from now on, Joel wasn’t going to fight it.

[vulpixisananimal]

"Look out, everyone!"

(Your feet feel like lead weights. Your shoulders, your back, your arms, your head your BLINDING head!! You could barely think! Let alone fight!)

(Don't think about the pain. Keep breathing.)

(How, HOW!?! PLEASE tell me HOW I can think about ANYTHING!!!)

"Loop please!!!" (Someone your shoulder, it was. . . The. . . Housemaiden.) "We can handle it, please! Just go rest!"

"I'm fine!" (You take your shoulder back, no touch.) "I, I can't leave you guys to, to do this alone."

(That was only half true. The real reason you stayed is because you woke up ten minutes ago. Despite your best efforts, you drifted to sleep. Stars, how stupid could you be!!! Now you were stuck HERE. And every failure would make it worse!!)

"We might not have that luxury." (The. . . Researcher calls over, readying herself.) "If we can figure out how to stop them now then. . ."

(. . . You forgot. Didn't you.)

(The Housemaiden looks at you, worried, then to Ramos, or what used to be Ramos.) "Grrr, fine! But you'll answer for this, buster!!!"

(Haha, you were terrified.)

"Plan, Loop?" (The Carpenter yells, she's in position with her hammer near The Kid)

(Ramos. . . Stars, what was your Defender thinking! You barely caught whatever conversation they were having, and, he could have been mind controlled or-)

(You forgot their names. Didn't you. You remember Ramos but not them? Your friends?)

". . . Try not to kill it." (You pause, trying to think of a tasteful way to say it- oh never mind that!!) "It'll, it'll kill Ramos too."

"!!!!"

"Oh. . ."

"R-right." (The Researcher says.) "Right, I suppose that, might make sense."

(You don't have a plan.)

(Yeah, you know. . .)

". . . J-just, just, just-"

(You, you don't know what to do.)

"Here they come!" (The Defender called over, he positioned himself in front of you.) "Don't strain yourself, Loop, just, try and figure something out."

(Right. . .)

(You feel like your body is shattering.)

(ATK down, DEF down, SPD down.)

(You concentrate really hard to speed up your friends.) "Right, it can still confuse you, try to avoid getting hit."

"Okay- Wait! I know!" (The Housemaiden claps her hands, and you feel something like a warm blanket wrap around you. You laugh.)

"Remembered the carrot method, did we?" (You call over.)

"Oh, it just came to mind, y'know?" (She smiles back.)

"Dunno if it'll work, but it's worth a shot. Let's go!!!" (Your Defender, strikes a pose, you feel a little stronger, but, not much.)

"We'll need to stall for time." (The Researcher crafts her spell.) "I can slow it down, but we need a proper plan."

"I-I'll, I'm trying-"

(So are you the Traveler again, Loop? And I, the Shadow? The Sadness?)

(Shut UP, you KNOW you forgot!!)

(The Sadness cries out, looking between you all, before diving at The Housemaiden.)

"I got it!!" (The Carpenter dashed forward and intercepted the attack, blocking with her hammer.) "N-no issue!"

"Thank you!" (The Housemaiden ducked to the side and swiped out with her rapier, it scraped on the sadness, but didn't doo much damage.)

(You're slow.)

(You shake your head. Loop time, you rush forward with your dagger and take a stab at the sadness. You connect. It doesn't do a thing.)

(Oh.)

(You look up at the sadness. It looked at you, it had insanity in its eyes. Oh. You're very weak.)

"HEY!!!" (Before you noticed, The Kid had smacked the sadness, it recoiled and you stumbled back.) "BE CAREFULL YOU CRABFACE!!!"

"R-right." (You held your head in your hand. Stars, come on, come ON. You're starting to feel numb again.)

(Do you even care?)

"Ramos!!!" (The Defender cried out.) "C'mon buddy!!! Snap out of it!!!" (He strikes, the sadness intercepts it with its, hands?)

"I don't think they'll hear you." (The Researcher whiped her brow before holding out a palm. The creative craft blasted the sadness, making it recoil, then scream.)

(It charged at her and lashed out.)

"Hrrngh-"

"M'dame!!!"

"A-are you alright?!?"

"I-I'll be fine."

(You shake your head, no, no she wouldn't be, there would be confusion, and then, and then-)

(Swap with me.)

(What?!? After what you've done!?! You'll drain the last of our energy!!!)

(You've been fighting too long. You need a breather, I handle it, stars, you forgot their names.)

(Like I'd trust you! You'll kill us!!!)

(You're killing us, too. Loop, I promise, I'll be conservative. I'll be careful.)

(. . . . . .)

(You breathe in, and out. Stars, you really did feel like walking death. Just breathe, Mal, it's Mirabelle next, take your time, look around.)

(Mirabelle claps her hands again, sending some healing craft to Odile. They were talking, making some comment, it didn't matter. Just focus on the Sadness.)

(Sadness. . .)

(A thing born of the sadness from frozen peoples; can no longer tell friend from foe. You could have been a sadness, maybe. What a sight that would have been. Ramos looked sad, and they looked desperate. They didn't want to fight you. Hmm. . .)

(You guard.)

"Smart!" (Isa calls back.) "We got it handled!"

(No, you don't. Isabeau threw a rock symbol and punches, the blast of craft glancing the sadness' side. It didn't do much. Rock on rock, of course.)

(Odile stood up, she shook her head.) "I-I think I'm being, effected." (She guarded.)

"Crab!!!"

(You needed a plan. Think. Think.)

(Why a sadness? Sadness were born from those frozen in time by the King. Ramos wasn't frozen, and there was no time craft in play. Perhaps it was made from Mind Craft? If that's the case then what other crafts could summon a sadness. Come to think of it, Ramos' sadness never froze any of you in time like those in the house could.)

(Sadness is a powerful emotion after all. And that is the domain of the mind.)

(Mirabelle holds out a hand and crafts a paper spell, the Sadness recoils, rolls with the hit.)

(What was Ramos screaming? As they turned into a sadness. Was it to someone?)

(. . . You open your mouth. You call Ramos name.)

(You see your allies wince at your voice, Ramos screams back. You didn't understand it. How do sadness communicate, you wonder. You call Ramos again.)

"OW!!" (Nille yelps.) "Crab was that!?!"

(She'll be fine, maybe Ramos could understand- wait-)

(WAIT.)

(You turn.)

(The sadness screams again and charges at you.)

(You try and dodge away, but your feet are still like lead, it's-)

(It strikes you in the chest and throws you across the yard.)

(Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. You got hit. You could feel your mind freezing up. You could, feel, your, mind. . .)

(Some "protector" you are.)

(You grip your head as a wave of nausea and strains run through you, swap. switch. tag out. can't. stay. I'm, sorry.)

(Was Ramos tugging at the star?)

"Loop!!!" (The Housemaiden ran over to you, a hand helping you up.)

(Your head. . .)

(Haha. . . You were going to diiiiieeeee~)

(You collapse back to the ground, gasping for air, keep breathing, c'mon, Loop, you need to keep breathing. Stupid, dumb. No, not stupid, it had a good Idea. Hah, Mal was being safe, and yet it still got hit. Actually, physically that hit wasn't that bad. But the lingering mind craft was still giving you waves of unease.)

(You feel the ground shake, you look up. The Carpenter had ran past you, charging at the Sadness, the Housemaiden cried out to stop her but, too late. She swung with her hammer and, sure, it hit, but the sadness just turned around and threw her accross the yard.)

(You're going to die. You're going to die again, and, and you won't be able to win.)

(The housemaiden, her name, what was her name! She stood between you and the sadness, hah, she was as weak to that thing as you were. She was so brave. . .)

(The sadness was coming towards you.)

(You're going to die.)

"Hey!!!" (Your Defender came swinging in from the side, striking at the sadness chest.)

(The sadness moved back, looked at the Defender, and attacked. It slashed acrross his chest, he tumbled backwards.)

(No, nonononononono.)

(The Housemaiden rushed forward, slicing at the sadness again and again. But, but, but the sadnnes just threw her to the side.)

(NO, NO, NO!!!)

(In Tears, And Time.)

(Blood. And. Stars.)

(You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die You're going to die-)

"H-Hah! Good hit, buddy."

(. . . What. . . ?)

(The sadness stepped back and turned. Your Defender was standing up, he, he should be KOed, by all rights he should be, but. But he's still here, standing. His face, you could tell he was straining. The sadness screamed at him.)

(He closed his eyes, straining, but, he didn't fall.)

"I'm, I-I'm not, giving up, buddy. Rams."

(What, what is he. . .)

(The sadness attacked again, but the Defender, he wasn't even phased, he blocked them.) "I'm, I'm not gonna give up on you, buddy!!"

(He's, he, he-)

"You promised to never forget you're strong! So I promise, I'll be there for ya when you can't!!"

(. . . Isabeau. . .)

"We're gonna find a way to help you! And we're gonna fix this, we're gonna do it! And we're gonna do it together!!"

(He strikes a pose- Wait, that's--)

"We're gonna win!! Together!!!"

(It is. Stars, it is! It's that, it's that skill! That one Stardust always was able to get but YOU WEREN'T!!! IT's, IT-)

(You feel warmth through your veins. You stand up.)

(You're going to win.)

(You're going to win if it killed you.)

(Keep going.)

"Isa!!" (You yell as you run.) "Ramos!! What'd they say about the star!!"

"Huh?!?" (He turns to you as you get to his side.) "He said someone gave it to them!"

(Someone GAVE it to them?)

(Wishes aren't given. You're given the tools for them. Wishes aren't an item. Wishes- It's not a wish.)

(IT'S NOT A WISH!)

(IT'S, IT'S A TRICK!!)

"I GOT IT!!" (You smile, hehehehe. You had a plan. You rushed at the sadness, it screamed and lashed out at you.)

"Loop what-" (Isa yells, running to catch up.)

(You sidestep it, focus, focus. You grab onto the sadness tendrils, hopefully your gloves would be enough to stop the mind craft.)

"I have a plan!!" (You yell back,) "Try keeping it distracted!!"

(Isa nods. You lift yourself up onto the sadness' body. It's writhing, screaming, rattling through your head but still you persist. Not, yet. Isabeau strikes at the sadness, distracting it.)

(Hand, over hand, you grab onto the sadness head, it screams again, so loud. You feel numb, your legs, your fingers, just, keep, your, grip. Just, think, one thing, one target.)

"L-loop!!!" (You feel warmth wash over you, looking back, Mirabelle had ran over to help and healed you.) "P-please just be careful!!"

(You were way past careful. You pull yourself up, once, twice, again, again.)

(You grab onto the star upon its head, and tug.)

(It comes free.)

(You fly back off of the sadness, tumbling to the ground. You could feel the second wind of energy starting to dwindle again, but just a little bit more, please. You lift your head up to look.)

(The star landed at Isabeaus foot, The Sadness, it looked maddened. It charged at Isabeau, screaming.)

(Isabeau opened his arms.)

(As soon as it started, it was over, in a flash of light.)

(Ramos tumbled into Isabeaus arms, crying their brains out.)

(. . .)

(Did. . . Did you Win?)

(. . . You breathe out.)

(Mirabelle is now level 46)

(Odile is now level 46)

(Isabeau is now level 46. . . And learned the skill "WE! WILL! WIN!!!")

(Nille is now level 19)

"Loop!!!" (Mirabelle ran over to you and offered a hand, you took it. She helped you to your feet.) "A-are you alright?!?! Are you hurt?!? Where are you-"

"Slow down, Mira, I'm fine-" (Both a lie and too late. She was already fussing over a gash in your side. When did you get that?)

"You are absolutely not fine!!! You look like, like-!!"

"Hey go easy on em'." (Nille said, Bonnie was helping her over.) "Did just save the day after all."

(It, it's not over though, right?)

"THAT WAS SO COOL!!!" (Bonnie, by contrast, was full of energy and a-okay.) "I didn't know you could do stuff like that!!"

(It, it couldn't have been that easy.)

(You hid your face in your cloak.) "It was just a hunch it would work." (Stars, you feel so tired.)

"!!!!" (Mirabelle went running to Odile. Looking over, she was sitting on the grass rubbing her head.)

(It just, couldn't have been that easy.)

"Hah, healers job is never done I guess." (Nille said cheekily.)

(Bonnie turned to you.) "Dontch'ya know healing craft too?"

(Oh right.) "Oh! Are, are you two hurt?"

"I'll be fine, had a tonic. And my heads clearing up." (Nille said with a thumbs up.) "Those two though. . ."

(She gestured to Isabeau and Ramos. You could hear Ramos cries from here.)

"R-right. . ."

(You head over to them. Isa looks up as you approach. He looked, so, so happy.)

". . . It, it worked!" (He smiled at you.)

(It, it was that easy?!?)

(It, it can't have been, right?!?)

(He continued.) "I, I feel fine, Ramos is shaken up but fine. What about you? Any effects?"

(You stare at him. He's, fine? Ramos is fine? What? You, you felt. . .)

(Isa tilts his head.) ". . . Loop-"

"We won?" (You ask.)

(He's giving you the biggest smile you've ever see.) "Yeah!! We won!!"

(But, but that was, so fast. How did, how did you do it? It, this can't be it, right? You'll smell burnt sugar soon or see something red or-)

". . . H-hey. . ."

(You look down, Ramos had turned to look at you. They looked like a mess, they were crying still. They looked, they looked-)

"I-I'm, I'm sorry." (They mumble.)

(After all that. They're sorry. After all that time. After all that pain. That, that-)

"Y-you, you're. . ." (You say, feel dizzy.)

"Hey, Loop are you okay?" (Isabeau asks.)

"You're so, so. . . (The world is spinning.)

(You can't think straight. You feel numb. You can't feel your legs, your arms, you can't, can't, can't. . .)

"Yyyou're so, stuupid. . ."

(Curtains fall. Piper; payed.)

(You black out.)

[astrologanize]

august 2024 sun sign horoscope

aries sun: it's a good thing that you guys are usually able to find motivation for yourselves because this month you will have bouts of feeling down & out. within this year's lessons for you surrounding what is & is not worth the energy, subsequently there will be situations and opportunities that fall away from your path and leave you dazed. this month you're going to encounter a bypass/obstacles that make you feel hopeless, like you don't know what to do, and you may be tempted to become withdrawn. there may be something that falls apart or has already fallen apart and you need to try to put your very best foot forward regardless - time to get re-inspired! there may also be a situation that happens that is unfair or challenges you and it would be in your best interest to speak your mind. for the past few horoscopes your advice has been to not act, take a seat, but now it is time to stand up.

taurus sun: all year long there has been lessons for you in your one-on-one connections, the receptivity/give & take, conflict resolution, and hopefully you have been paying heed to such. this month has strong decisive energy coming through for you; your motivation may be increased to do something different with your life, to do away with certain things, you may have some chip on your shoulder that causes friction with others or you may just be involved in friction with others, you may be hasty or make hasty decisions, and its up to you to remember that you need to remain open (to the possibilities) instead of dying on hills. this is a great month for you to try new things, to plan new experiences, to consider alternatives, to listen to new perspectives, to have some spicy time & experiment in the bedroom, this is not a month to be persistent and/or endure.

gemini sun: lol transit mars in gemini wants cause some trouble for y'all i see. you geminis are gonna be feeling stuck like chuck this month, there is a situation or something going on for you in august that will make you have to put aside your feelings/wants and persist because there's not too much you can do about it - at least not at this time. but! you must try to keep up your productivity levels and do what you can with the hand you've been dealt, try not to shrug it off and be 'whatever' about it, get those gears in your head turning for good.

cancer sun: eh, i'm seeing potential carelessness for y'all this month because there are certain things that are being left in the air, there is a focus on options, and it's really on you to decide whether or not you're going to (continue to) struggle in vain or make the choice that is right/best for you - which of course will involve some difficulty for you in some way. it's time to straighten that backbone up, try to be proactive, try to have a good/healthy structure for yourself, and avoid letting things happen/come & go all willy nilly. rise above tomfoolery! very specific situation in my head but say you have a coworker that is shitty and this month something happens with them that puts you out and you have to take the high road. you've never gone to a supervisor about this shitty coworker but this time you need to say enough is enough and stand on business.

leo sun: for whatever reason i had a heavy feeling come through when i was reading for yalls month and i think its because this month the accumulation of everything that has come to pass is going to be nipping at you. you're not going to be in your feels in some woe is me way though, there will be a strong self-focus, you will be action-oriented this month, and you are going to be working towards finding or facilitating resolve. this isn't a month where you need to prioritize progress, what you need to do is take a step back and put the effort into tying up those loose ends - prioritize resolution indeed! try to avoid any crass behavior, you may experience crass behavior from others, find proper resolve where you can, and try to think before you speak (lol pretty similar to the june horoscope of needing to watch your words).

virgo sun: saturn in pisces has really had y'all out here like "what in the world am i doing?", huh? well, there's been a lot of floating for you throughout this year and this month will not be much different in that respect but you will be trying out new flavors for yourself! your expectations will be lessened and re-explored in august so that you can experience a new kind of freedom for yourself. it's like being on vacation in a foreign place and getting to experience all types of new foods and activities and spaces. lessen your expectations but try to have a healthy & flexible routine in place for this month so that you have a bit of balance as you slowly but surely rediscover what resonates with you.

libra sun: ooou la la look at y'all having a productive august. i'm seeing any petty emotions you had or may have being discarded and you actually choosing the mature path as you put your priorities in perspective and recognize the efforts you need to put forth. you have things to work on and by the end of the month you will definitely be far closer to your goals. amongst the productivity is also good rapport with others ; you will be cooperating with others and vice versa, maybe you hear people out more this month, perhaps you get closer to someone in your life, and your one-on-one interactions will be positive for the most part. it's a good month so don't waste it! don't try to control situations, avoid drama, avoid paranoia, and ultimately be open (even vulnerable perhaps).

scorpio sun: now why am i seeing potential messiness and you being reactive, hm? let's try to avoid that if we can buuut regardless. whatever you may have mind for this month i am seeing follow through so if you have a commitment to something then i do see you being able to step up to the plate. surrounding your month is a lighthearted energy and you may be more sociable this month, any plans to meet up with people will happen, there may be some notable gossip about you or adjacent to you or it's just somehow relevant to you, and there is potential messiness...you might get in your feels and want to be petty, you may have certain situations or connections in your life where pettiness is the norm and i do think it will be the same ol' same ol' with those connections (eyeroll emoji lol). you still have situations or habits in your life that you're needing to put an end to or are in the process of doing so and it isn't going to happen overnight, you just have to persist with choosing what's best for you.

sagittarius sun: well the good news is that this will not be a month you need to endure per se but it still involves growing pains nonetheless. this month is about being attentive to your life and any woes that are residual and/or current for you and being honest with yourself about them - i am emphasizing 'with yourself' because it's coming through very strongly that you should not confide or try harder with some connection in your life. either you have a connection in your life that you are struggling to distance yourself from because you're so used to the person (so it's a matter of comfort & familiarity) or you have/will take something more personally than you should. this is a time for you to stop enduring, to quiet your mind, to listen more than you speak, to attend to what you need to for yourself, and recognize any lack within yourself and your life.

capricorn sun: back in june you had a lack of certainty in yourself and the decisions that you were making but by this month you will be feeling, or will begin to be feeling, far more assured in yourself and ready to take life on again. you will have bouts of getting in your feels, you may get impassioned at times this month, but for the most part you're still in a space of trying to remain objective. there is something(s) in your life that you're wanting to let go of or you are in the process of letting go of and you're going to be feeling ready to find a new chapter. buuut like back in april, you need to remember to pace yourself instead of jumping in full force. not the best example but say there was a cat stuck in a tree, instead of you thinking you're a superhero and risking your own well-being in an attempt to retrieve the cat, it would be in your best interest to call the fire department to handle it - there are situations this month where you may have the urge to extend yourself further but try to refrain from doing so, you may feel a lil helpless at times and that is perfectly okay because you may need help this month!

aquarius sun: there is definitely potential for this to be a prosperous month for you if you choose to get inspired because there will be a new path formed for you in doing so. throughout august you will be making decisions to do things and to put things in place but you will also be having to rely on others at times, and this may create difficulty for you. for some of you, you need to be careful of taking advantage and using others this month but there may be an opportunity that does involve you relying on a connection to someone - it's like if you need a supervisor to vouch for you to help get you a promotion. you will have times throughout the month where you gain experience and/or you will feel more experienced or 'above' another. try to seize new opportunities, sign up for a new hobby/allow your energy to be released somehow, welcome in good energy.

pisces sun: there is something you have in mind or will have in mind this month that is not going to happen or it won't happen the way you want it to. whatever it is, you're going to deal with it and throughout august you will be dealing/having to deal with situations that force you to put your feelings aside. even when you have moments where your feelings pour out, you will be quick to suck it up and recognize that you have priorities to attend to. some sort of regret may come up, maybe it's one from the past or a regret that develops this month and again, you're going to deal with it - and by the end of the month you will have a more detached attitude towards it like 'what's done is done, i'm going to focus on what i can do presently'. try not to get in your head this month because that's how you make mountains out of molehills, focus on the reality in front you, be realistic, and be action-oriented in a practical sense.

[cherryblossom-heart]

I loved you once B.B

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy but breaking your heart seemed to come naturally to him. A love story about your heartbreak,his betrayal and a chance at redemption.

19.1 k words

Content Warning: ANGST, heartbreak, cheating, mature themes, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (Pussy job, penetrative sex p in v, sad/angry sex? Rough sex mixed with a little pain. It will make sense once you read it) . Fluff, mentions of bad mental health from both Bucky and reader, graphic violence, character's death, mentions of women trafficking as well as assault.

A/N: Wow 19k words. Im sorry this took so long to finish but as you can tell it is super long as I promised. Buckle up y'all, this is sad. Also this is my first time writing a proper cheating fic so if you can/want let me know if you like it or not. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics and @cafekitsune

Now  

"Fuck you," you spat the words.    

Tears fell from your eyes as they made their way down your neck, making dark spots in the collar of your red turtleneck. Even when pain was drowning you, beauty never left you. Bucky felt as if he were watching a beautiful Renaissance painting—a tragedy of sorts.   

"Is that all? I really don’t have time for this."   

He didn’t recognize his own words or the indifference they came out with. He didn’t mean to say them, but it was as if his own body was working on autopilot, and he was only a spectator to the shitshow it was causing. He wanted to stop. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to say so many things, but the only thing he was capable of was hurting you.   

"Are you kidding me? That’s all you’re going to say?"   

"What else do you want me to say? You know what happened, you saw her with your own eyes. Anything I say is either going to make you angrier or make you cry even more. Let’s just be done with this, you’ll eventually get over it."   

The sound of your hand connecting with his face put an end to his sentence. The hit didn’t feel as such, his skin barely processed it as anything more than a simple graze, but once the initial shock wore off, the sting came along. But it didn’t compare to the pain he felt in his heart when his eyes connected with yours once again.   

"I always knew you were capable of many things, but not once did I think you would ever be this cruel."   

Your eyes drifted to your hands, your right hand playing with the ring you wore in your left. A sigh left your lips, and more tears fell before you finally slid it off your finger, placing it on the table next to you.   

A bucket of iced water. Painful, burning, scorching coldness— that’s how Bucky would describe looking at you while silently breaking your engagement. His mind was telling him to get on his knees, beg, and try to fix everything he had broken. But the darkest part of him, the one that had taken over his life was assuring him you were bluffing. You couldn’t leave, you always stayed. You always fought for him, even when he didn’t deserve it.   

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes rolling with the uninterested façade he had perfected.   

"I’m done, I can’t keep doing this anymore." You turned your back, strong and determined steps leading to his apartment door.  

Please, fix this.   

His trembling hands made their way to your wrist, anything that could mend the cracks in your heart that seeped with pain, the cracks he had caused with his own selfishness. Before his fingers could even graze your skin, your hand quickly swatted away his pathetic effort to stop you.  

"God, stop being so goddamed drama—"   

"Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t try to contact me ever again, I won’t answer."   

"Can you just—"   

"If I ever see you again I swear I’ll murder you. I didn’t kill you the first time we met but I swear I’ll do it if you even dare to breath in my direction."   

Your words hurt, it seemed as though each one stabbed him right through the chest in a taunting way, a reminder of how much he had screwed up. Bile rose to his throat when you recoiled at his proximity, and the hate in your eyes burned him with such force that he was sure you wouldn't wait until the next time you met.   

He deserved it either way.  

Bucky's eyes opened just as the car jolted, his heart racing against his chest, his ears buzzing. For a fraction of a second, he's confused, not remembering why he was in the car, but the fogginess of his thoughts was replaced with anxiety when he heard the tracker beeping on Sam's thigh. 

"Good, you’re awake. I think we’re almost there." Sam kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing down at the device that told him where to go. Judging by his demeanor, his friend didn’t seem as nervous as he did, if at all. It wasn’t like Sam had a reason to, he was the only one who had fucked up.  

He looked out at the vehicle, and the passing trees in the darkness of the night numbed his mind while he tried to forget about his dream. No, it wasn’t a dream, it was his worst memory to date. Usually, his nightmares were about the crimes he had committed while being the Winter Soldier, and he could blame them on his consciousness not being there with him. His own body didn’t belong to him, so he couldn’t keep blaming himself for the things HYDRA had forced him to do.  

With you, on the other hand, he could not blame anyone else but himself. His mind wasn’t tortured by a secret organization in hopes of ruining his relationship, nor was he forced to hurt the person about whom he cared the most to save thousands of lives. He did it all by himself, and now the nightmares have not only scared him but hurt him all over again.  

You started to show up in his dreams more frequently once Sam told him they needed your help. As expected, the super-soldier's first reaction was total and complete refusal. His friend thought it was a childish reaction the former winter soldier was having to avoid the awkwardness of meeting you again, only knowing your relationship had ended on bad terms without hearing the specifics. But the blue-eyed man wasn’t doing it for himself, he was doing it for you. The night you left, you made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him, or even anything related to him, your resignation from the Avengers Team and subsequent evaporation from the face of the earth was a strong message to leave you alone.  

After a few hours of arguing, with both men going back and forth on why they did or didn't need you, Bucky finally agreed to go look for you. Lives were at stake, and no matter how hard he tried to look for a solution that avoided you, there seemed to be none. Before he could ask where to even start looking for you, Sam pulled out a device that seemed familiar to a phone. You had given Sam, and only Sam, a tracker that could find you anywhere in the world and could only be unlocked by a password you had whispered to him  

The depth of his tormenting cycle of thoughts didn’t let him register they weren’t on the road anymore until his partner stopped the vehicle. They were surrounded by tall, dense trees, and the crickets and cicadas that hid in the dark made an orchestra that filled the emptiness of the night. Sam grabbed his gear, the sound of a duffle bag being opened broke the rhythm of nature.  

"Why are we stopping here?" Bucky asked with a frown. His own duffle was placed across his back, the tinkering of the metal inside it annoying him slightly.  

His friend threw an annoyed look at him before rolling his eyes and scrambling through his belongings. "As I said like twenty minutes ago while you were brooding and having your own pity party, this thing shows her inside a building in the middle of the woods. I’d like to take a look around the area before going in blind."  

"Oh."  

Normally, the super soldier would’ve had a comeback for the annoying yet harmless insults his friend and partner would throw at him, even a snide comment. But this was different, no matter what Sam would say, he could only think of what was about to happen. So he let it slide, submerging himself in his own thoughts while Sam threw the little flying robot he nicknamed "Red Wing" into the air. Once it was hovering above them and Sam made sure to have full control of it, they began a walk that would last about thirty minutes before the device would find any signs of life.  

Sam and him were waiting somewhere near the alleged building, Sam's robot scanning the surroundings.The thumping in his chest returned, and his fingers became ice cold.He was so close. Close enough to see you, close enough to talk to you, and perhaps close enough to apologize. 

How would you react to seeing him? Would you be happy to see him? Probably not, considering the last thing you said to him was that you would kill him if he ever came near you. He knew he deserved it, but hopefully time changed your murderous resolution. Maybe even forgave him.  

Could you ever forgive him?  

A slight swat from Sam brought him back from his thoughts, silently letting him know they were ready to go. Bucky could sense it before the place was even visible, the vibrations of the music resonating through the ground. The smell of smoke, alcohol, and humanity reached his nostrils right as they saw the line of cars parked in a plain field next to what resembled a warehouse.  

To an untrained eye, it would look like a normal, unsanitary, and probably unsafe rave done by stupid people. But the polarized windows of the cars, the shine coming from the inside of the guards' jackets, and the lot of security cameras installed in the building told another story. Whatever or whoever was in there was dangerous, and as usual, you had gotten yourself in the middle of it.  

Bucky wasn’t an idiot. He knew you couldn’t stay away from helping people, no matter how hard you tried. He saw the breadcrumbs, microscopic, little clues that he could recognize as your style. A missing girl suddenly returning to her family, a kidnapped journalist in the middle of war returning to their respective embassy. A child trafficker falling from his hotel room in the twentieth floor. You had always been... effective when it came to missions, sometimes going overboard with your methods, but Tony, Steve, and himself had always guided you towards the good and righteous path that a person with your abilities was supposed to take. 

You lost all three of them in the span of a year.  

They were lucky that it was relatively easy to get inside, and even luckier that their clothes didn't draw too much attention to them. Sure, they seemed to be wearing more clothes than needed, as most people seemed to enjoy themselves topless and/or pantless, but with the darkness of the room barely being lit by the flashing blue and red lights, no one really noticed them.  

Guys, girls, and people he wasn’t sure how to label were grinding against each other. Hands touched him, pulling his jacket, and he had to push them all away, trying to make his way through the sea of people. The inside of the warehouse could pass for a functioning club, with couches, dance floors, and screens accommodating everyone inside.  

Bucky wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything like this; the debauchery that people showed shocked his old-fashioned ways. He was sure he had seen several people inside each other, whether it was fingers, tongues, or dicks, no one seemed to mind that everyone else could see them. How had you gotten yourself into the middle of this disguised orgy? What were you even doing here?  

Both men made their way to the front of the place, where a private section was installed looking over the dancefloor. Two large guys guarded the stairs that connected the lower and upper levels, allowing mostly attractive girls to ascend. Both men agreed that if you were to be found somewhere, it would undoubtedly be there. They scanned the room, looking for any way they could access the VIP level without having a pair of tits and long legs.  

He had never understood scenes in movies where they showed time slowing down. Every time he had been in a fight, whether it was as himself in the forties or as the winter soldier, everything seemed to happen too fast to process. Even the night you left, time had seemed to go at an abnormally fast pace, and by the time he could finally react the way he wanted, it had been too late.  

He never understood those scenes until he saw you walking to the protective railing surrounding the edge of the private section. Above the deafening music, the moans, and the music, he could hear your voice talking to someone else.  

It was as if he was seeing you for the first time. Your beauty had remained the same your hair, your eyes, and your lips all looked the same, yet his heart started racing just as it did all those years ago. You weren’t dressed like everyone else dancing around him, your black dress with a dangerous deep cleavage was sensuous, but it held a certain level of class that made you stand out from the crowd.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

Time moved at a slow pace, the slowest he had experienced. He was grateful for it, as it allowed him to appreciate every detail from you. The way your lips came close to the drink you had in your hand, the drumming your fingers did on top of the railing, the glint in your eyes—he knew it meant you were lost in your thoughts.   

Bucky had never been more grateful for the way time passed. Until he saw a pair of hands sliding across your waist, fingers gripping your hips so roughly, he was sure they would leave a mark on your skin. A semi-attractive man whispered words in your ear, his beard scruffing against your skin. You smirked, turning around to plaster your lips against his in a kiss that could make a pornstar blush.  

He knew you'd moved on; nearly a year had passed since the last time he saw you, and you'd probably found someone to sleep with, but he wasn't ready to watch you become someone else's. His mind was prepared to face your happiness, but his heart wasn’t. And even now, he was sure you were just tagging along with the man, using him for information for whatever mission you had gotten yourself into, yet he felt as if what remained of his heart had been ripped out of his chest.  

With strong, rough movements, the man turned you around, pressing your body against the railing. As his hand grabbed your neck, your hips grinded against his, your mouth open as you licked your lips. 

The super soldier couldn’t take it anymore, his heart begged him to stop the torture. He wasn’t even sure where Sam was, nor did he care. He cared about you, and he could only think about what he had lost. With the last of his dignity, he began to look away from you and your companion, who had leaned over to your ear once more. Except this time his eyes found Bucky’s, his fingers tightening around your neck.  

He knew. Somehow the man knew who he was and, most importantly, who you were.  

Your eyes widen slightly, searching through the sea of people dancing downstairs. But it didn't take you long to find those blue eyes you once adored. He was there, looking exactly the same as the night you left him, along with your heart.  

"I know who you are." The man whispered in your ear—a threat not so subtly hidden behind every word.  

But you couldn’t dwell long on his words because ice-cold eyes looked back at you. Ice cold eyes brought back the pain you thought you left behind, and the rage surfaced once more as you remembered the promises you made him.  

Cold metal was pressed against your neck, the edge of it grazing your skin. Bucky’s eyes widened in alarm, and his hands turned into fists, making him look like he cared. Like he actually had a heart.  

He barely took two steps in your direction when the wicked smile you wore stopped him. It was sinister. It was deadly. And when you turned to the man to say something, his grip faltered as one word left your lips.  

"Good"  

Your head connected against the man’s nose, a crack let you know it was most likely broken. You barely heard the man’s yells when bullets made their way to you, a couple of them grazing your skin. The room that was once filled with hips swaying, alcohol, and moans had transformed into a frenzy of screams and people running to get out of the building.  

The crowd tried to take Bucky away; their desperate attempts at escaping dragged him away as he fought his way through the sea of people. Seconds passed, and he could hear your grunts as well as more shooting coming from the upper floor, with girls running down the stairs, some of them with splashes of blood staining their clothes.  

He didn’t know whose blood it belonged to, and that frightened him.  

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. "What the hell happened?"  

His friend had managed to make his way to him, both of them still getting pushed around. Bucky offered him a quick glance before resuming his previous task of making his way to the stairs.  

"Her cover is blown," was all the explanation Bucky offered, and somehow it was enough. Before any of them could add anything, screams came from the front door, three bulky men were making their way there while carrying very large and dangerous guns. "Take care of them, I’ll go help her," the super soldier said without leaving any room for discussion.  

When his fingers finally grabbed the banister of the stairs, Bucky was close to losing his mind. Climbing two steps at a time, he finally found himself a scene that froze him in the spot.  

You were there, your black dress ripped in some places, your makeup ruined by mascara running down your cheeks, and blood splashes tainted your flawless skin. Bucky had managed to get there just in time as you twisted a man's arm to an unnatural angle, the crack of his joint popping out of place was followed by his screams. You had managed to kill/knock out everyone except for the guy who had previously had a knife to your throat, and Bucky knew better than to think that was just a mere coincidence.  

After the last man fell to the ground, blood sputtering out of his neck, you lifted your gaze towards him. He couldn’t read you as easily as he had once been able to and he hated it. Before, he was sure he knew you better than you knew yourself, more than once already sure of your likes and dislikes before you asked him for an opinion. He had treasured those times in his mind, and the memories were as comforting as they were painful. A constant reminder of what he had lost.  

He was right there, right in front of you. The man you fell in love with when you still had a heart. The man who still had a tight grip on it and who would probably always own it. He could keep it for all you cared, your heart was tainted with memories you didn’t wish to keep.  

It was the first time both of you were this close, every scream gone as you were absorbed by your own bubble. He looked so familiar that your own body reacted the way it used to whenever you saw him. Your heart stammered in your chest, and even after so long, the butterflies in your stomach appeared for a millisecond. He was the man you had once loved, he was the man with whom you imagined a future together.  

Then, you remembered why all your hopes and dreams had been destroyed.  

Bucky noticed the hurt flashing through your face, your jaw tightening right before you made your way to him. For a moment, he thought you were about to hug him, your desperation to reach him in your long strides mirroring his as his body begged him to touch you. He wanted to apologize, beg for forgiveness at your feet, and profess the love that he wasn’t able to forget.  

Perhaps if his mind hadn't been plagued with all the things he wanted to do, he would’ve noticed your foot rising to give him a solid kick on the chest.  

The force and unexpectedness of your attack launched him back to the railing, throwing him over it. His back landed with a loud thud on the floor, fortunate enough for him, everyone else seemed to have dissipated and his fall wasn’t that high up. A second later, you jumped from the banister, landing on top of him with your knife in hand. Your knee found it’s place on his chest, feet pressing his hands flat on the surface. Before Bucky could even muster a word, the blade was pinned against his throat.  

"I told you if I ever saw you again, I would fucking kill you." 

Then  

Steve had changed so much in the years they had spent apart. His friend, who had once been the fragile little Brooklyn boy he would protect with his life, was now a fully grown man with a strength that could crush a person if he wasn’t careful enough. He was also now his protector, not from bullies that would harass him because of his own stubbornness but from a secret organization that wanted to take over the world. That and his own fractured mind.  

He had lost control once the man had given him the commands to bring back the deadly assassin they had turned him into. He remembered it all, but it had felt as if he was under water the whole time, falling deeper and deeper the more he tried to fight against it. His own body didn’t belong to him, no matter how hard he tried to control it.  

For a year, he had thought it was possible to lead a normal life; his time spent in Romania had given him false hope that he had gotten away from his captors. How foolish he had been, thinking he could ever be far away from his grasps. He wasn’t the man he was before, just a weapon designed to hurt people.  

He supposed he was lucky Steve still saw good in him, at least enough to turn against his teammates and friends to help him clear his name. And now, as they drove to one of Steve’s friends' hideouts, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about everything that was going on. If he hadn’t lost control, Steve wouldn't be a wanted criminal. If he wasn’t captured, a shit ton of innocent, good people would still be alive. If his mind had been stronger, he could’ve broken free of HYDRA's mind control.  

Maybe it would’ve been better if he had actually died when he fell from that train.  

Steve parked outside an abandoned apartment complex, it seemed no one had lived there in years. He threw a questioning eyebrow at Sam, who just shrugged before getting out of the vehicle. Another of Steve’s friends had decided to help him out of loyalty to Steve, not because he particularly liked Bucky or entirely believed in his good side.  

All three men walked inside the building, not a sound inside other than their footsteps and heavy breathing. Steve looked around for a couple of seconds before making his way to the second floor, his intuition telling him where to go. He stood in front of a door with a big C plastered on it, his friend's hand hesitating before knocking on the wood.  

After the third knock came back without an answer, Steve decided to open the door. He had called a name while crossing the threshold, looking around for any signs of life inside the apartment. Bucky was surprised to find the apartment filled with computers, blueprints, documents, and lots of military-grade equipment. Everything gave away the signs of someone working there, yet there was no one who took ownership over them.  

It was too late when Bucky heard you standing behind him, with his feet being swept by your leg and effectively knocking him down. The wooden floor amplified the echo of his fall, catching Steve and Sam’s attention. Your frame landed on top of his, gun aimed directly between his eyes.Bucky's hand reached to grab your ankle in an effort to destabilize you, but the barrel of your weapon was pressed right on his forehead.  

"I wouldn’t do it if I were you," you said coolly. "I promise you, I’ll blow your brains out before you can even land a hit."  

After your words filled the room, Bucky’s eyes finally took their chance to look at you, actually look at you.  

God, you were beautiful.  

Maybe it was only your physical beauty that had taken him by surprise, or the fact that you had taken him down so easily with just one leg movement. Or even the fact that you seemed to have no fear towards a man who was being marketed as a "dangerous and armed terrorist." Whatever it was, Bucky couldn’t deny the fact that you were the most beautiful human being he had seen.  

After a few explanations from Steve’s part and some begging for help, you released the super soldier from your hold, weapon holstered in your back. Your hand extended to help him get off the floor, and you offered him a charming but wary smile.   

You told the three men to make themselves at home and take anything they needed. Bucky had chosen to keep guard, being by himself in the top floor while looking out through a window that hid him from everyone else. He was stewing in his own complicated thoughts when he heard a knock on the wall. You were there, standing a few feet away from him with a shy smile on your face as you extended to him a cup filled with hot coffee.  

Thump, thump, thump.  

"Sorry about the whole thing holding you hostage," you said as he welcomed the cup.  

His fingers accidentally grazed against your own, and it was as if he had touched electricity itself. Heat extended from his hands all through his body, and his ability to think was thrown out of the window. He looked at you, and he couldn’t tell if you felt the same or not, but he could feel how your eyes burned him, with a curiosity behind them that was so easy to read that he was surprised you were the black ops/spy Sam had told him.  

"It’s whatever, I would’ve done the same thing if I were you." Bucky answered after a few seconds.  

He turned to look through the window again, trying to keep his thoughts in order. You settled down next to him, the warmth of your skin reaching his own. Nothing could be heard other than your breathings, not even the cars outside or the sound of the busy city that hid you. And for the first time in a long time, Bucky felt relaxed with someone he didn’t know from the past.  

"I’m James."  

He could’ve sworn he heard you smile before you gave him your name. 

Now  

"What the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?"  

The music was still on, as were the blue and red lights that lighted up the darkness in the room. Bucky could feel the breeze of your breath on his face and the smell of expensive whisky and tobacco in every word you said. He wasn’t surprised, the man that you knocked out probably tried to impress you with them.  

But behind the traces of blood, alcohol, and gunpowder, he could smell your shampoo. The same peony smell mixed with lavander filled his nostrils, and it brought him back to the many nights you had spent together. Your fingers were drawing circles on the skin of his back, and his nose was buried in your hair.  

You, on the other hand, were reminded of the suffering he caused you with every passing second.  

"I told you to stay away from me," you muttered.  

Your hand pressed the edge of the blade on his skin, and you were sure if you kept going you were going to start drawing out blood, but you couldn’t care less. Bucky Barnes had always been an expert at instilling unwanted emotions in you, and it was difficult to keep those emotions at bay right now. 

You felt anger. You felt resentment. You felt pure, long-lasting hatred.  

"Maybe I should slit your throat right now, that’ll make you stay away from me permanently."  

Your words were intimidating, filled with the same promise you had made him that fateful night. This was his chance, his chance at the apology that had died out in his throat when you closed the door behind him. This was the chance he had chased in his dreams for almost a year.  

But he couldn’t say anything.  

He loved you. God, he loved you so much. He missed seeing your face other than in the few pictures he kept or in the memories that did no justice. Because even now, as you threatened to kill him, you were a dream come true, just like the first time he saw you. 

"Say something!"  

"You’re beautiful."  

Your grip faltered on the knife, your eyebrows slightly furrowing at his words.  

No, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t come back out of nowhere, say some cheesy, basic compliment, and make the walls of hate you had built crumble. Even if he had only managed to knock down one brick, he didn't deserve it. You knew it, he knew it, and everyone else who knew what happened between you two knew it.  

Then why did your heart flutter at his words?  

"Hey," Sam said, breaking the silence, your head snapping in his direction."I know he’s an asshole, but I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill my partner."  

You look back at Bucky for a few seconds before giving up, throwing your knife to the floor. Sam leaned over, his hand extended to help Bucky get up.Your murderous eyes went from Bucky to Sams, your gaze softening at his friend.  

"I told you to only contact me in emergencies," you grumbled.  

A hiss left your lips when you touched your arm, one of the bullet wounds was still seeping blood. Bucky thought about telling you something, but this time he listened to the rational part of his brain that told him to shut the fuck up.  

"Believe me, if we had a choice, we wouldn’t have come," Sam said.  

Your eyes flickered between both men, not convinced about helping them. Well, on helping the blue eyed super soldier. A pathetic excuse for why you couldn’t help them died on your lips once you saw his blue eyes. Please, help us they begged.  

You didn’t owe him anything. You shouldn’t help him, but in the back of your head, Steve’s voice rang through. Good ol’ Steve Rogers and his everlasting moral lessons. That's what we have to do, he said. 

So you put aside your feelings because helping people mattered more than an idiot who broke your heart.  

"What do you want?" You sighed.  

"We’re looking into something... odd. A bunch of pregnant women missing, still in their early stages of pregnancy. Most of them show up dead after giving birth, but the babies are nowhere to be found."  

You shrug. "They take the kids, so?"  

It was cold, you were aware of it. But after the things you had seen, the things you had done, you were aware that people kidnapping woman for their babies wasn’t something out of the ordinary, let alone something that required Captain America to look into it. Things like that were always forgotten, pushed back into a slew of cases alongside more missing women. 

"They had traces of the super serum."  

Fuck.  

You laughed. A joyless, cynical type of laugh. Destiny, of course, had to be a jerk. 

"Well, you’re in luck. I think we’re tracking down the same people." Sam raised an eyebrow at you with a simple request for you to elaborate. "A girl showed up dead in México a couple of months ago, she’d been missing for almost a year. Autopsy showed she had a miscarriage before dying, the bleeding killed her. The remains had traces of the serum too."  

"Are you saying that—?" Sam couldn’t finish his sentence, the thought sending chills along his spine.  

"Yeah."  

The air is somber between the three of you. Sure, the flag smashers were a problem when they appeared, as you knew from all the news reports you'd seen.People with ten times the strength of a normal human being were dangerous, especially if they were associated with a terrorist organization. 

This was different, though. This was sinister.  

Groans coming from the top floor broke the eeriness that surrounded you, making you finally remember why you were here. You tore apart part of the black dress that was once pristine and wrapped it around your arm.  

"Look at this guy over there," you said, motioning behind you. "He has intel on this, he’s the one that gets the girls and delivers them."  

"Well, let’s take him in and—"  

You cut Sam off. "No. Look, you came looking for me because this is my specialty. I know how to handle guys like him, and I sure as hell know he won’t tell us shit if we take him to a precinct and threaten him with some jail time. He’s a big fish. A few phone calls and he’ll be out in no time." They knew you were right, but they didn’t like your arguments. "We do this my way, or you better pray you find them before I do."  

Sam looked hesitant. He knew what you were going to do to the man, and his good conscience chastised him for even thinking of letting you torture someone. But the rational part, the part that knew that in this case there wasn’t much of an option, knew that they needed you, and perhaps you also needed them.  

"Just, don’t kill him." Sam said before walking away.  

Compromise. You could do compromise.  

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes. 

After Sam slammed the door shut on his way out, you were reminded of the fact that you weren't alone. Bucky’s eyes were already looking at you, the same apologetic eyes you had seen before you kicked him in the chest.  

"Thanks for helping us." He spoke, thinking it was an appropriate way to break the ice, but it only managed to make you scoff.  

"Let’s make something clear, I’m not doing this for you." you spat. "I’m doing this because Sam needs my help and so we can save those innocent girls and stop any more from being taken. This doesn’t change anything between us, as soon as this is over, you go back to leaving me the fuck alone, got it?"  

Say something. Fight for her. Explain what happened, his mind begged him.  

But he couldn’t, because even if it had been almost a year since he last saw you, he was still the same coward who let you walk away without a fight.  

So he agreed.  

"Yeah."  

"Good. I’ll meet you outside." 

Then  

"Thanks for the coffee." Bucky said before taking a sip.  

Droplets of water fell from his forehead, a strand of unruly black hair was hanging on the side of his eyebrows. The towel that hung from his waist, showing his torso all the way down to that sculpted V of his abdomen, made it too difficult to concentrate on the files you were trying to organize.  

The man was hotter than the sun.  

"No problem." you smiled at him.   

You had no idea it would be the best and worst decision you'd ever made when you suggested Bucky stay with you while Steve went to rescue the others.You liked Bucky, and the few days you spent with him while Steve and the others gathered everything they needed so they could go find Zemo had been nice. Sure, he was a man of a few words, but it didn’t bother you. It was weirdly comforting to be able to enjoy someone’s company in silence. And the times he spoke, he did it out of pure curiosity, curiosity about the world, about what had happened while he was in the ice, but mostly about you.  

He asked about your cases, how you met Steve, and how you came to partner with some of the most powerful people in the world. He asked about your life, about your childhood in the orphanage, and what made you choose to help people. He asked so many questions, yet he still respected you when you didn’t want to answer some of them. He asked, not to pry, but to get to know you, and in return, when you asked him something, he was as honest as he felt comfortable being.  

And that was the problem. No matter how much you tried, you knew your days with Bucky Barnes were numbered. Ever since you were young, you knew that being in this line of work would prevent you from having a normal life. You couldn't have a normal relationship. You weren’t meant to have the love story your favorite movies portraited, the white picket fence and the family of five wasn’t in your future.  

Neither was he, maybe in the forties he would’ve came home from war and found himself a pretty girl to marry. But now, after everything he had seen and everything he had unwillingly done, he probably wouldn't want a relationship any time soon. Or maybe not at all.  

But after three weeks of being cramped up in the same little apartment, you were getting used to him. You had developed a little routine together that always ended up with a cup of coffee at the end of the day. Sometimes both of you would just sit in silence, taking in each other's company while you sipped on your cups. Other times, just like now, he would sit next to you as you watched whatever movie you had decided to put on.  

You had to cut this at the root before it became too hard to let go.  

"So, you’re going to Wakanda?"  

He sighs. "Yeah. Steve says they have someone that might be able to help with... help with my..."  

"I know." You finished for him, suddenly placing your hand on top of his. He tensed at your touch, both of you looking down at your hands before you took away yours, embarrassed at your own lack of control. "Well, if you’re not too busy there, I could go visit you sometimes."  

"You would?" he questioned.  

"If you want me, too," you shrugged, trying not to reveal your excitement. 

He looked at you, his thoughts unreadable through his face. For a moment, you thought he was going to reject your offer, but something changed in his eyes. He smiled, the faintest, littlest hint of a smile you had seen, but it was there.  

You made him smile for the first time.  

"Yeah. I’d like that."  

If someone were to ask Bucky when he first felt he could love you, it would be right now. With the dim light of the TV lighting up your face and a shy smile on your lips as you told him you were willing to travel such a long distance just to see him.  

And as you lay next to him, your head against his shoulder, you thought to yourself that maybe you could be selfish for once and allow yourself to enjoy his company a bit more. 

Now  

There were drops of water leaking out of a pipe, he could hear them from the other side of the room. Everything around him was dark, it seemed the only source of light was on top of him and the woman on the floor pleading for her life.   

"Please don’t do this," she begged with a Spanish accent. "I don’t want to die, please."   

He wanted to move, he wanted to throw away the gun in his hand, but it was like he was a spectator of his own life. His body was not his, or his breathing. Not even his heartbeat listened to the inner panic attack he was having. Nothing belonged to him.   

"Kill her," a distorted voice told him. His eyes glanced at him quickly, and he noticed the man had no face. No one around them had one.   

Everything felt like it was in slow motion. His finger moved, pressing the trigger of the gun, but he refused to give up. He had to try, even if his own consciousness was trying to kick him out, sucking him into the pool of darkness he had been resting in for a long time.   

But even if he tried for years, he couldn’t win. He was powerless.   

Broken.   

He could only witness how the other "him" obeyed. The woman's eyes changed from scared to lifeless in less than a second. A splash of crimson staining his combat boots kept his attention. He couldn’t hear what the other people in the room were saying, he didn’t exist anymore, or he didn’t want to. The sound of the water leak was deafening now. Growing louder and louder until it consumed everything around him   

He didn’t want to be awake. Not like this.   

And as he felt himself disappearing, he hoped this was the last time he came back to the surface. He would rather be surrounded by emptiness.   

Yet something interrupted him, pulling him back up.   

A woman's voice, so familiar it made his heartbeat change.   

"Bucky!"  

Bucky's eyes opened wide. His head was spinning, his breathing was rapid, and his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. The adrenaline in his system made him dizzy, and he could feel his hands shaking. And he was feeling. A lot. Scared, angry, hopeless. So many emotions constricted his chest, burying him under their weight.  

"Bucky," you repeated. His head snapped at you, showing you a pair of wide, terrified eyes.  

Your feet almost moved. A pure protective instinct filled you with dread at the fact that you couldn’t help him anymore. Your head and your heart were in conflict. In one hand your heart begged you to go to him, stroke his back as you peppered kisses along his shoulder. Then you would lie back in bed while your hands surrounded his body, your front pressed to his back in a way to say, I’m here, I love you, and everything will be alright.  

On the other hand, your brain told you to turn in the other direction. Walk away from the night terrors that plagued his mind and let him suffer in silence. He wasn't your responsibility anymore, and you shouldn't be concerned about helping him with whatever was wrong with him. 

Was it possible to hate and care about someone at the same time?  

"Nightmares?" you couldn’t help yourself from asking. 

His left hand rubbed his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips. "Yeah. Sorry if I woke you up."  

"You didn’t."  

You sat at the table in front of the couch he was lying on, a steaming cup of lavender tea between your hands. The cling of the spoon clashing against the ceramic filled the uncomfortable silence between you.  

"Where’s Sam?" he asked, sitting straight as a couple of droplets of sweat fell down his forehead.  

"He has a contact in the city. He left to meet them."  

"Oh."  

Whatever else he was about to say died on his lips. You noticed he seemed to do that often since meeting again, his eyes speaking the words he would never say. Sometimes you would catch him looking at you, the frown on his forehead deepening with the passing of time. It made you wonder if he would now be open to answering your questions.  

"He said you’re going to therapy."  

He was taken aback by your question. It probably was the first time you said more than the necessary to him. Also, it was the first time that you showed any sort of interest in his life.  

"Uh, yeah. Court mandated."  

You hummed, sipping on your tea.  

"Does it work?"  

You saw the hesitance in his eyes. The way his jaw clenched and his grip on the couch made his knuckles white made you think he was about to change the subject with a witty, bitter, or sarcastic remark, or maybe even just ignore the question at all. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, by the end of your relationship, he was an expert in it.  

Bucky didn’t change much after all, you thought to yourself  

But he broke the silence.  

"In some ways." he started, his gaze dropping to the floor. "The nightmares don’t come as often anymore, and I don’t feel the need to shoot every asshole that drives a shitty car with a shitty exhaust pipe." You chuckled at his confession, making a slight smirk show on his face. "But she’s too much."  

"What do you mean?"  

He sighed. "She pisses me off. I hate that she keeps trying to make me feel better by just saying my life is better now and I shouldn’t feel like shit anymore. But it’s not that easy. Just like it’s not easy to follow the stupid set of rules she gave me."  

He looked up to see your reaction to his words, expecting to see the same hardened look you’ve given him the past couple of weeks. And it was just that what greeted his eyes, your lips slightly pressed together and your eyes decorated with a slight scowl that only showed up for him.  

But behind the tough exterior, he could see your eyes had softened. For a brief second, your eyes showed care and understanding to what he siad before going back to the usual void stare you gave him.  

"She sounds like a bad therapist." He shrugged in agreement, he couldn’t say anything against the truth. "She also sounds like a bitch."  

He laughed. The type of laugh that caught him off guard and made his lungs run out of air. Granted, your joke might’ve not been as funny as his laugh was giving it credit for, but he had always been fond of your bluntness.  

You couldn’t help but laugh with him too.  

Laughing with Bucky felt foreign yet so familiar at the same time. It felt like reminiscing on a memory you didn’t remember you had, a bittersweet memory that brought back the same good feeling of the memories you built together  

But moments like that couldn’t last forever. Your heart couldn’t afford to remember.  

A text message from Sam lit up your screen, saying his contact had useful information. You stood up from the table after texting him back and drank the rest of the cup's contents. 

"You should try to get some sleep, we have a long day ahead."  

His shoulders dropped slightly.  

"Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try to."  

With nothing left to say, you walked away, leaving Bucky in the loneliness of the night.   

You didn’t go right away to the room you had adopted as your own, though. He heard you going through the kitchen, a dim sound of clinking and pouring reaching him due to his enhanced hearing. He didn't think anything of it; maybe you needed more tea before going to bed. 

Your steps brought you back to him before you placed an object on the coffee table right beside him.  

A cup of lavender tea. 

Then  

"It’s kinda late to be outside, huh?"  

Bucky jolted at the sound of your voice, your presence taking him by surprise. He was completely sure that when he left a couple of hours ago his house was empty and you hadn’t sent a message of your arrival.   

Something had happened? Was someone injured? Were you in trouble?  

His questions died on his lips as you cut the space between you and him short, your arms tightly embracing him. Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, his long hair falling on your face. His hands took a second to respond, but they eventually wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest.  

You stayed like that for what felt like ages, just taking in each other's warmth. He missed you, even if he tried to deny it every time his thoughts would wander to you. He tried to convince himself that his reclusion made him miss everyone he considered a friend, and in a world where everyone seemed to want him dead, you were one of the few people he trusted.  

He had been staying in Wakanda for nearly six months, and out of those six months, you had visited him at least once every month. The duration of your trip would vary, sometimes you would stay only a few hours, with most of your time spent in his hut while sharing stories of the outside and his progress. Other times, you'd stay for days, with the longest stay being a week and a half. In those cases, he would show you the surroundings, the forest that surrounded the back of his hut or take you on a long walk alongside the river that crossed his home. Sometimes you'd sit outside and stare at the stars, your only company being the animals and the flora. 

He also came to hate every time you would leave, feeling like a part of himself was leaving with you.  

One of his hands landed on the side of your hips, the other searching for your face.Your grip on him grew tighter once his fingers brushed the skin on your face but you eventually let go, allowing his hand to guide you slightly away from him.  

"What happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You didn’t respond, but one look into your eyes, and he knew the answer. Whatever it was, it had affected you to the core, the broken look in your eyes could only be compared to the one he saw every time he looked at his reflection in the mirror.  

His forehead rested on yours, both your eyes closing at the contact.  

"It’s ok. I got you."  

His hand found yours as he guided you toward his bed. It wasn’t until then that he noticed you still had your tactical gear on, dirt and crystals still hiding in some places. He grabbed the buckle of your vest, his eyes asking for permission to get it off. A slight nod gave him the confirmation, beginning the process of somewhat freeing you of the events you had seen. He got rid of his own garments too, leaving you both standing in front of yourselves with only underwear covering you. He dragged you into bed, your frames covered by the light white sheets on his bed. 

Not many times had he allowed himself to think of you in a sexual manner, knowing how his body would react in a lustful way. But as he found himself looking at you with barely any clothes on, the desire was left on the back burner of his brain. You needed him. You needed his comfort, and he was more than willing to give it to you.  

He would give you anything you asked for.  

His hand rested on your face, tracing circles across your cheek, your eyes closed at the soothing action.  

"I’m sorry." Your voice trembled. He could see you wanted to say more, but words failed to come out of your mouth  

Bucky’s heart ached. He had never seen you in such a vulnerable state, and his mind was going cray at the thought of not being able to do anything to help you.  

"It’s ok, sunshine. You don’t have to talk about it."  

So you lay there, head against his chest, as he kept you between his arms, with nothing other than the sound of the crickets outside his hut surrounding you. And for the first time in a long time, you felt what being loved felt like.  

That night, you kissed him for the first time. You didn’t stop, not even the next morning when he woke you up with breakfast already made and a cup of lavender tea. 

 Now  

"Bring him to the table!" you yelled.  

Your hand swept across the surface, knocking over every piece of paper, pencil, and piece of equipment. The vibrations of the heavier objects on the concrete floors matched the beating of your heart.  

Bucky dropped Sam on the table. The man had gone unconscious on the ride to the safe house, the bullet wound that oozed liquid crimson was most likely the cause.The same crimson color now stains Bucky's clothes, and his leather gloves were also covered in a thin layer of it.  

You brought your knife to slash through his clothes, the sharp metal cutting through them as if they were butter. The hole on his shoulder seemed to have no exit, the bullet was still inside him. You were glad Sam wasn’t conscious for the next hour.  

The super soldier hovered over you for the entirety of the time you spent cleaning through the fragments that splintered from the bullet. Everything went relatively well until Sam started waking up, his body contorting in pain as you dug through his wound. Bucky brought him a bottle of vodka while you injected him with some local anesthesia.  

Hours later, the wounded man was now resting on the only bed the safehouse had, his breathing bringing great comfort as it meant he was still alive. After half a bottle of vodka and a some painkillers diluted on his IV, you were sure he wouldn’t wake up until tomorrow.  

The faucet sprayed cold water onto your palms. Your nails desperately tried to scrape away the traces of blood that still lingered in your skin, leaving red marks all across your knuckles. Dirt and dried blood were trapped underneath your fingernails, and no matter how much you tried to dig it out, it would stay right there.  

Bucky’s footsteps brought you out of your trance, the heavy sound of his combat boots felt deafening with each step he took. You tried to tune him out, focusing once again on the sound of water, but it seemed as if Bucky had made it his purpose to be as loud as possible. You held onto the sink so strongly that you were sure it would snap.  

A deep rage came from your stomach, spreading all over your body. The anger constricted your chest in such a way that you weren’t sure if somehow you were buried under a collapsed building, its weight invisibly crushing you.  

It was his fault. It was all his fault.  

You didn’t remember walking outside the bathroom, nor did you remember walking up to him and slapping away the cup of water his hand held.  

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you barked at him.  

"I—"  

"I gave you one task. You had to wait until I gave you the signal so you could come in. Not guns blazing, not punching everyone that comes your way, not drawing everyone's attention to us. Your only fucking job was to wait for the distributor to show up and wait for my goddamn signal."  

"What did you want me to do? Just stand there and do nothing?" he argued.  

You were taken aback by his response. Part of you expected him to just let you scream at him and give you the same soft eyes he always gave you when you spoke to him.You weren't expecting him to snap back at you or to defend himself. 

Maybe if things hadn’t gone sour between you two, you would’ve listened to what he said, and in return, he would’ve listened to you. But the anger was too strong to be subdued.  

"I wanted you to follow the fucking plan."  

"He was about to torture you!"  

Bucky's thoughts returned to the old factory turned whorehouse.The way you had purposefully gotten caught and how they had tied you to an exposed pipe line. He could still hear the sound of the man’s hand smashing against your cheek.  

"I can handle myself! I told you guys to stay put until the distributor was there. He knows I’m after him, and this was our only chance to catch him. And now he’s god knows where and Sam got fucking shot."  

A heartbeat passed before Bucky came close to your face. His big frame towered over you, and his breathing hit your face.  

"You’re fucking delusional if you think I was just going to let anything happen to you."  

You scoffed, "Oh, so now you care?"  

"I’ve always cared."  

You pulled away from him, your eyes rolling at his pathetic words.  

"Sure."  

Perhaps it was the fact that you had been in danger no longer than a couple of hours ago, or maybe it was the heat of the fight that had left some residues on him. Whatever it was, it made Bucky courageous enough to reach for your arm.  

"Look at me."  

You swatted him away.  

"Don’t fucking touch me."  

But this time he wasn't going down without a fight.Not again.  

"I know I was an asshole at the end of our relationship, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you anymore."  

A bitter laugh came out of you. All of this had to be some sick joke. "When you care about someone, you don’t treat them like that. You didn’t care about me, and you sure as hell didn’t love me."  

His hand tried to touch you again, and this time you let him. You were tired. Tired of fighting with him. You closed your eyes as soon as his skin came in contact with yours, his touch consuming all of your senses.  

You opened your eyes to find him staring back at you, the blue eyes that once hurt you shining the same way they did the first time you kissed him.  

"I did love you," he whispered into your lips. "I still do."  

His words burned you like someone had branded you with hot iron in the chest.Even after all this time, he could still hurt you, Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? Why did he have to bring back the past you so fiercely tried to leave behind?  

"Don’t." Your lower lip quivered. "Y-you can't just break my heart and then come back into my life and just say you still love me."  

"I never stopped loving you."  

Those five words were all it took to tear down what little control you had over yourself. A year ago it would've broken you to hear them but now they only brought a deep sense of indignation. 

With a quick move, you pulled his hand away from you, your hands pushing against his chest until he hit the wall. You wanted him to hurt. You wanted to carve his heart out of his ribcage and throw it far away, maybe then he would understand what it felt like.  

"Where was your love when I needed it, huh? Where was your love when I had no one else? Where was your love when I reached for you every night but you were already gone? Where was your love when I begged you to love me, to be there for me?" Your hands were clutching his jacket, and your vision was blurred by tears."Where the fuck was your love when you brought that girl to your apartment?"  

Bucky never saw you like this, not even when he stomped on your heart with his indifference. Under the anger, the hate, and the surface indifference you showed him, he could see how broken you were. He could see how you were constantly struggling to put the pieces of yourself back together that he had torn apart. 

He hated himself for extinguishing parts of you. 

"I’m sorry."  

A lapse of judgment.  

That’s what you would tell anyone who asked you why you kissed Bucky that night. You would say that you had been blinded by the pure rage his mere presence would bring you. Or perhaps you would take the easy route and you would say that with everything that happened that night, almost being tortured and Sam getting hurt, you had acted in a primitive instict of searching comfort.  

The truth was different. You could lie to yourself and say that you didn’t needed Bucky, not after all the things he had done. You lied to yourself constantly when you told yourself you were over him. You also lied to yourself when you claimed that your one-night stands had fulfilled you in the same way that Bucky had. 

You couldn’t feel anything, not ever since you walked out of his apartment. You had tried different people, different cities. You had tried different alcohols and different drugs. You had tried anything that could help you fill the emptiness that had found a permanent home inside you. You felt nothing, not until you saw those cerulean eyes again.  

Your kiss was aggressive, your lips smashing against his with strength and your hands finding their place in the back of his head. It took a second for Bucky to kiss you back as he thought his mind was playing tricks with him. But after you pressed yourself against his chest, his body reacted on muscle memory alone, his arms surrounding your waist.  

It wasn’t what you expected, though. You thought that the specks of love that remained between you would be enough to bring back whatever it was that you were missing. Instead, you were met with the most intense hatred you've ever felt, mixed with the melancholy of what could've been. 

He tasted like the past, but he still hurt like the present.  

So you made a decision.If you couldn't bring yourself to love Bucky Barnes anymore, you would hate him with all that remained of your soul. You would hate him until both of you burned in the flames of your agony. You'd despise him until you'd ripped every part that matched the ones he'd so easily broken. 

"I hate you," you whispered between kisses. "I fucking hate you."  

Your words were daggers to his heart. His chest tightened, and his grip on you faltered for a second before he snapped out of it. This wasn’t about him. If you needed to tell him how much you despised him, he would gladly let you kill him with your words. It was the least you deserved.  

"I know," he mumbled against your lips.  

He felt your body guiding him through the room until the back of his legs hit against the couch where he would sleep. Your hands pushed against his chest, making him sit on the couch while you straddled his lap.  

Clothes flew across the room, and you found yourself tearing his shirt apart in two while he only pulled yours off.You'd worry about that later; right now, nothing was more important than feeling your skin against his. 

Your hands traveled over his chest, fingers grazing every part of his abdomen as you trailed down to his zipper. You palmed him over his jeans, his cock already hard, and you felt it twitch against the fabric with every touch you gave him. Groans left Bucky’s lips.  

"I hate you," you repeated as a mantra.  

He shouldn’t make you feel this way, but as you see his head going back when your hand opened his fly and found it’s place around his cock you felt your own desire pooling in your lower belly and the aching in your core became unbearable.  

With swift movements, Bucky got rid of his pants and his underwear while you remained on top of him. With your frame still covered by a black lace bra and your black tactical pants on, he couldn't help but feel exposed when he looked at you.Deciding he didn’t wanted to be the only one naked his hands went to the side of your hips in efforts to get you rid of the fabric but your hand swatted him away.  

Beg me, your eyes said.  

For a moment, he considered tearing your pants apart the same way you had done with his shirt. However, the seriousness behind your eyes warned him that he might end things too soon if his stubbornness got in the way. So he gave in.  

"Please, Sunshine." His hands gripped your waist, his hips grinding against your still-wrapped core, sending shivers down your spine."Please, let me see you."  

You relented, unbuttoning your pants and throwing them away with your panties. In what were the longest seconds of Bucky’s life, you unclasped your bra, finally getting rid of the last barrier your body held on to.  

You stood there, completely naked, staring at Bucky.He remembered the way your breasts felt when he held them. He remembered how soft your skin was. He remembered that if he bit on the skin of your neck, right where the jugular is, you would clench around him. He remembered. In the lonely nights when he needed some release, he would close his eyes and imagine your lips around his cock as he fisted himself in the solitude of his apartment. 

All those memories didn’t compare to watching you in the flesh, with hungry, hateful eyes on him as you walked back to straddle him again.  

His cock twitched once your legs fell to his sides, the heat of your body settling on his crotch. You sat on top of him, your wetness welcoming him once you lowered yourself. His length placed itself right between your lips, and a groan left him.  

"Fuck."  

Your hips began rocking in slow but sharp motions as he felt his cock coated with your slick. Slowly, you built up a rhythm that made both of you moan. His hands landed again on your hips, his fingers pressing on your skin in a way that was certain to leave bruises the next day. Your own hands gripped on Bucky’s biceps for stability, and you squeezed them every time you would feel him brushing against your clit.  

You felt amazing on top of him, but that wasn’t what made his heart pound against his chest.  

It was your eyes. Your eyes never left him, no matter how much pleasure you were pulling from both of you and how badly you wanted to roll your eyes as the coil inside of you tightened. Your eyes, which once showed him what love could look like, now looked at him with a simmering hatred he could not shake.  

His chest tightened at the thought of never seeing them again. The electricity that ran through his body was replaced by a deep sense of hopelessness, and the more he kept his gaze on you, the more it amplified. You must’ve sensed the change in him because your movements stopped.  

Broken eyes now stared at you with the ghost of tears in them. The anger that had driven your actions and your thoughts through all this had now subsided, allowing itself to mix with melancholy.   

I love you. I’m sorry. I miss you. His eyes said.  

I hate you. I’ll never forgive you. I wish I never met you. Yours answered.  

And in the middle of the lust that was taking place right on the couch, both of your hearts broke again.  

You pulled him back for a kiss that tasted of desperation and sorrow as tears fell from both your eyes. The saltiness of the tears bled into the kiss and mixed with it.Quickly, your hand guided his tip to your entrance. You needed him inside you like a person lost in the desert needs water. You craved him with every cell in your body, and it tore your heart apart.  

"So tight." He moaned in your mouth as you sank into him.  

The stretch of his length burned as you forced yourself to take him fully. It hurt, and even with your arousal completely covering him, you weren't prepared to take his thick length.You didn’t care though, you hoped it would make you forget your heartbreak. Bucky tried to stop you as he felt you struggling to take him in. His hands held your waist, but you shook your head before you started bouncing on him.  

You didn’t want love from him. You didn’t want tenderness or care. You wanted roughness. You wanted strength and aggressiveness until the only thing you could feel was the ache between your legs.  

The super soldier gave you what you wanted.  

Bucky’s pace was brutal, his cock hitting the sweet spot only he could reach. The sound of his hips colliding with yours filled the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing through the hallway outside.In the back of his mind, Bucky was thankful Sam was knocked out with meds so he could be spared from the obscene orchestra your bodies played.  

The pain quickly turned into pleasure. Your walls hugged him tightly, each thrust carried a strength that left you breathless. At some point your legs had given in, the only reason why you kept bouncing was the snap of his hips pushing you. He didn’t let go of you though, instead he pushed you against his chest in an embrace that surrounded you tightly.  

Your head rested against his while your hands stayed on his chest. The sadness that mixed with the pleasure numbed everything else except for the bubbling up of your release. It pained you to admit that no one else could make you feel like Bucky, you had tried to find someone who could replicate what his touch could do for you, but no one ever came close.  

You hated how much you missed him and how much you needed him.  

"I wish you would’ve stayed dead." you panted. The poison behind your words shredded his heart. He knew you were saying it to hurt him, he knew you didn’t mean it, but the conviction behind it felt like a kick in the chest. "I wish we never brought you back."  

"Me too." he finally admitted.  

Bucky felt your walls constrict around him, and he could tell you were close. He drew you in for one last kiss, the kind that took your breath away. The type of kiss that was a solace in a world of agony. The type of kiss that meant a promise that carried forever.  

You tightened around him as you came, and his thrusts slowed down as he rode you through your high. As you closed your eyes, more tears fell from the corners, so he reached out to wipe them away.Once you had recovered a little, his brutal pace came back, this time chasing his own release. You brought your lips to kiss his neck, feathery, soft kisses, and he felt his balls tightening. He was so close.  

He tried to pull out so he could fist himself to the end but you didn’t budge, instead whispering in his ear.  

"Inside."  

He came harder than he had done in the last year. You felt his cock twitching inside as he covered your walls with his cum, the mess between your release and his own dripping out of you. You kept bouncing on top of him, making sure to return the favor by guiding him all the way through the end.  

You stood up, the feeling of emptiness making you shudder when his cock left you, and his cum started leaking out of you. You turned to go find something to clean yourself up, but his metal hand stopped you. He guided you back to the couch before he walked towards the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back with a towel, and he positioned himself right between your legs.  

He cleaned you up just like he had done for so many years before.His other hand caressed your thigh as he made sure to wipe everything. And just as he always did for years, once he finished, he kissed your inner thigh, a couple of inches away from your pussy.  

Bucky threw the towel to the floor, he would worry about it in the morning.As for right now, the only thing he wanted was to hold you close. So he did. He thanked the couch was big enough to fit you both as you layed together. He pulled the blanket he used to warm himself every night over you, and his arm surrounded your waist, his grip making your back settle against his front. His left hand traced lazy circles over your stomach while the other was used as your pillow.  

For a few seconds, both of you allowed yourselves to reminisce in the past. He kissed the top of your head as you snuggled against him like you usually did. And as you felt his warmth behind you and inhaled his scent, everything seemed to be alright once again.  

Except they weren’t. Bucky wasn’t the man who made you feel secure anymore, and you weren’t the woman who trusted him with all her heart. Both of them belonged to the past.  

"I don’t love you anymore. I will never love you again." you broke the silence.  

Bucky held you tighter as his heart broke once again.  

"I don’t deserve your love." He whispered. "But I’ll still love you forever." 

Then  

Loving Bucky Barnes was never easy.   

It wasn’t all bad, though. For many years you had been together, three and a half to be exact, where you could imagine a life with. Three years where there was no one you trusted more or preferred to be with.Three years that were the happiest of your life.  

Those were a few of the reasons why he had asked you to marry him. And those were also a few of the reasons why you had said yes.  

You had told yourself at the beginning that you couldn’t get attached to him for the safety of your heart. It didn’t matter that his touch felt like home or that during the times you spent apart, his eyes would be the only comfort you would find in your dreams. He would bring more heartbreak than love.  

Oh, how right you had been.  

Unfortunately for you, the heartbreak would come in a way you couldn’t have prevented.  

The snap came and took him away from you. One second he was standing next to you, the next he was turning into dust that flew into the wind. The last thing he had said was your name and after that half the population was gone.  

The years went by in a blur. Between nights filled with drugs and alcohol and days spent cramped up in your apartment, you were wallowing in the type of sadness that the rest of the population could understand. You kept your ring in your finger, it reminding you that what your memories craved for were real.  

Bucky had been real.  

With his departure, he had also taken your heart. 

After a particularly bad night where you crashed your vehicle into a contention bar, Tony had taken it upon himself to help you, offering you a home close to his secluded one. You took it, not because you wanted to get better but because you wanted solitude. But if life had taught you anything about Tony Stark, it was that he was as stubborn as they come.  

Every morning he would bring you breakfast along with a visit from a certain little baby that always wanted to be held by you, and sometimes she would be able to bring a small smile to your face. With time, the little baby turned into a little girl that would ask for a sleepover every once in a while, and you would gladly accept the offer to allow Tony and Pepper a night alone.  

Things got better. You visited Steve and Natasha at the compound and even allowed yourself to go in missions of your own, as it turned out not even The Snap could make criminals take a break. You even went to one of Steve’s depressing support group meetings, never returning for the next one.  

You couldn’t be strong all the time, though. Some nights, when the pain was so strong that it drowned you and the grief was too powerful to keep at bay, you would find yourself staring at the hundreds of pictures you had taken of him. Most of them were of you together, but there were a few you took when he wasn’t looking. The sunset behind him as he breathed in the clean air of Wakanda, or the small smile on his face as he tasted the food he cooked for you both.Even when he was reading some of the books he kept under his bed and a few wrinkles would show on his forehead as his whole focus remained in the text, he always looked beautiful.  

With time, everything felt like a routine. Waking up alone, eating alone, going outside alone. Sleeping alone. Everything seemed to be stable, not good or bad, but just stable. You were sure this was the best you could do, or at least the best it could get.  

That is, until a ray of hope appeared. 

Time travel was the answer. Taken as a whole, it seemed like something out of a science fiction film, but it made sense.Bring the stones back and along with them everyone that had died. Surprisingly, it had worked, everyone that had been snapped away came back just as they had left. It should have been a moment of joy. It should've.  

The thing about hope is that it comes with a price. Natasha and Tony were the price to pay.  

Steve left shortly after.  

You understood him. You understood why he left everything and everyone behind to go live a life with the woman he had always loved. You would be a liar if you said you wouldn’t have done the same if you were in his position. You understood why he did it but it still hurt to know you weren’t enough of a reason to stay and live a life together.  

It seemed like you were on a streak of losing people. Wherever you turned, more people kept leaving your life. Wanda was gone, turned into the madness that grief could bring. Thor left to save other planets that needed him. Bruce... well, you weren’t sure where Bruce was, but he didn’t try to contact you.   

Everyone was gone but Sam and Bucky.  

Bucky. Your Bucky. The man you had spent the past five years crying for. The man who made you the happiest you'd ever felt.The man who felt like home.  

But he wasn't your Bucky any longer. 

This Bucky didn’t kiss you with the same tenderness he did so many years ago. Instead, he'd barely move his lips once yours touched his in what you'd call a mediocre peck.He also never initiated a kiss, it was you who always reached out for him.  

This Bucky didn’t held you at night. Instead, he'd turn around, his back to you, and even if you reached for him between dreams, he'd guide your hand back to your side of the bed.Some nights, he would even choose to sleep on the floor of the living room when he thought you were asleep. It was as if the thought of touching you seemed appalling to him.  

This Bucky never hugged you. 

This Bucky never talked to you with love  only with annoyance and indifference.  

This Bucky never woke you up with breakfast.  

This Bucky never tried to sleep with you.  

This Bucky never said I love you.  

Because this Bucky didn’t love you.  

But you held hope, foolishly. Every day you tried to talk to him, show him in every possible way that you were still here with him. Every day you tried to make things better between you, you poured your heart and soul to try to fix what you didn’t even know was broken.  

Things got worse a couple of months later.   

As it turned out, time had taken a toll on Steve’s body, and one night he went to bed and never woke up. You found it a bit ironic the man out of time had finally run out of time.  

His funeral was held on a sunny spring afternoon. People from all over the world showed up to say their final goodbyes to the man who had saved the world so many times. Friends, people he had saved, and heroes paid their respects to him. The first super soldier had finally been put to rest.  

After everyone had cleared out, you went back to drop one last token for his departure. It was a picture of the both of you. Steve’s arm hung over your shoulders while both of you held a couple of beers. It had been the first time you had seen Steve outside of work related situations. That was the beginning of your friendship.  

As you got back to his tombstone, you saw Bucky standing in front of it. His eyes were void of any expression, and he didn’t seem to be talking to Steve’s grave either. Bucky was just there, staring at the place where his best friend was buried.  

He didn’t seem to notice when you stood next to him, nothing in his body gave any signs of acknowledgement. You gave him a couple of minutes before you reached for his hand. You knew that, even if he didn’t show it, he was in great pain. He had lost his last connection to the life he had once lived.  

You wanted to be there to help him through his pain.  

The contact only lasted a few seconds. Your touch surprised him, as he had jolted once your skin grazed his own. He turned his head to the side to give you a glare that you’ve never seen before. His eyes had been filled with pain, as you guessed, but they also carried hatred and disdain. He must’ve seen your expression, because a second later his eyes changed to a neutral expression.  

"What are you doing here?" he muttered.  

The shock of his stare lingered in you for a moment, but you quickly returned to yourself, a friendly smile on your face."I came to leave a little parting gift."  

He hummed in acknowledgement, not sparing another glance at you as you put the photograph against the headstone, right in between the dozens of flowers that decorated it. Both of you stayed silent after that, the sounds of the birds and the faint rumbling of cars were the only sounds keeping you company. It was peaceful. It was good. Just the two of you enjoying a moment's calmness in silence. 

For a few moments, you felt comfortable next to him. The first time in months since he came back. But good moments like that never lasted long.  

Without notice, he turned around. Long, desperate strides guided him towards the exit of the graveyard. He wanted to create distance between you and him, find somewhere that was as far away from you as he could be. You felt how you were losing him.  

But you fought for him, even when he seemed to not deserve it.  

"Bucky." You called for him. He stopped in his tracks, but he didn’t turn around, so you took that as a sign to keep going. "I know you’re hurting right now, I am too, but I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you."  

He didn’t answer for a few seconds, and you thought you had made a breakthrough. Maybe this was the time when things went uphill. This was the little push he needed to start healing and perhaps to try to rebuild the bridges that had burned. This was the little thread of hope you'd hung up on.  

You were wrong.  

"You have no idea how I feel," he said before leaving.  

That night you came back to your cabin, and Bucky’s things were gone. The only thing left was a note that rested in the middle of the bed.  

I found an apartment in the city. I need space.  

You didn’t see him for a couple of months after that. You considered tracking him down but ultimately gave up as he had asked for space. He needed time on his own, and you could give it to him. You would give him anything he asked for.  

You kept your word until Strange came to visit you, announcing news about Wanda. She was dead.  

You barely remembered tracking down his address or making your way there. It wasn’t until you were facing his door that you realized what you had done. He asked for space but in that moment, you couldn’t give it to him. You needed your Bucky.  

Knock, knock, knock.  

It was late in the night, and you could hear the TV going on in the living room. He had to be home. After a few minutes without an answer, you knocked again, but the only thing that welcomed you was silence.  

"Bucky," you called. Your voice was broken, you tried to fight the tears away, but saying his name broke what little self-control you had left. "Please open the door."  

You rested your forehead against the door, finally allowing yourself to feel everything you had been pushing back ever since the fight with Thanos. Pain, grief, loneliness, hatred, sadness, despair. A cocktail of emotions ran through you in an overwhelming way and seemed to want to drown you.  

"I know you’re in there." You cried. The tears that ran down your face landed on the floor. "I just— I know I said I could be strong for the both of us, but... I need you."  

You knocked on the door again, this time with the side of your fist. The desperate sound of your knocking bounced through the walls of the deserted hallway.  

"Please Bucky, please open the door. Wanda is dead." Your own cries stopped you from talking, the hole in your chest seemed to get bigger and bigger with each passing second. "Nat, Tony, Steve, Wanda. All of them are dead, and I—I can’t. I can’t keep losing people. I can’t lose you."  

You couldn’t do this alone, not anymore. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.  

"I love you. God, I love you so much. I know you want space, but right now I need your love, Bucky. I need you to love me like you used to. Please love me." You begged.  

And you waited. You waited for what seemed like hours, but it probably was just thirty minutes until you accepted he wasn’t coming out.  

 You left with half a heart that night.  

Two weeks later, you came back to his apartment, ready to demand an explanation. Your love for him was strong, but you needed him to talk to you. You were ready to fight for your future. You were ready to fight for your love.  

"Bucky!" you yelled as you knocked aggressively. "Bucky, open the fucking door!"  

The door didn’t take long to open. It surprised you, your confidence and anger faltered for a second. This was a sign, perhaps it was him being ready to fight for you too. This was him showing you he still loved you.  

Except the person who opened the door wasn’t Bucky.  

It was a girl. A short brunette that was covered by Bucky’s black T-shirt and nothing more.  

"Hi."  

You wanted to scream. You wanted to burst into tears. You wanted to burn the world and leave everything behind. You wanted to die. But the only thing you could do was stay there and stare at the girl.  

"Umm, Bucky is not here." She said awkwardly, your intense stared made her uncomfortable.  

"Do you know where he is?" You questioned her. The words came out rougher than you intended, but as the heartbreak and despair set in, you couldn't care less. 

"No. I, um, when I woke up he was already gone." She pulled the hem of the t-shirt down in an effort to convey her nervousness, but it only infuriated you more. "Are you a friend of his?"  

You wanted to laugh. God, this couldn’t be happening.  

"Yeah, of sorts."  

"I can let you in so we can wait for him, but I have to leave in like twenty minutes."  

"You can’t call him?" you asked, bitterly. You knew Bucky had gotten a new phone but he never gave you his number.  

Her face blushed before she answered. "No, uh. We met last night, and he didn’t give me his number.  

"Oh."  

You didn’t know what would be worse, if he had seen this girl ever since he left your cabin or the fact that he had a one night stand with a random girl. It didn’t matter, though, Bucky Barnes had crushed your heart.  

The girl, whose name was Clara, kept her word, leaving minutes later as she had to go to work. She seemed like a nice girl who had no idea the man she had slept with was engaged. And perhaps in another world you would’ve been nicer to her if your heart hadn’t collapsed in on itself when she opened the door. Maybe she was a little naïve, as she let you stay inside the apartment so you could wait on Bucky. She had also asked you to give him her number, the digits scribbled on a piece of paper.  

You broke down the moment she closed the door behind her. You thought of trashing the place, breaking every piece of furniture he owned, and burning all his clothes in a pit in the middle of his living room. You imagined yourself hurling the stupid leather jacket he seemed to be fond of lately.You also thought about settling for burning everything to the crisp, wanting to see the look on his eyes once he saw his apartment consumed by flames.  

You didn’t do any of those things, though; instead, you waited. This time, hours actually went by, the once bright morning turned into the darkness of the night, and you never moved from your spot on the couch, not even to turn on the lights.  

Bucky came back to his apartment around 11 p.m. When he noticed the apartments' lack of lightning, he felt relieved not to have to deal with the girl he had taken home the night before. By the looks of it, she left a while ago.  

He turned on the light before taking of his jacket, placing it on the coat hanger next to the door.As he walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, he tossed his keys on the counter.He had to change the sheets on his bed and do laundry tomorrow. The glass was half full when a voice behind him spoke.  

"You have a nice place here."  

The glass dropped from his hands into the kitchen sink. His head snapped quickly towards you, finding you seated in the middle of his couch. He turned off the sink, before making his way toward you. You couldn’t be here, not today of all days.  

"How the hell did you get in here?" he barked.  

He didn’t mean it like that, not in the way it sounded. He wasn’t angry at you being inside his apartment, he was scared. Scared that you had arrived at the wrong time and seen something you weren’t meant to see.  

He finally stood in front of you and saw it. Your nose was slightly puffy and red, like you had been crying for some time. Your shoulders were slumped, defeat washing over your posture. But the thing that hurt the most to see was the pain behind your eyes. It wasn’t the normal type of pain of loss or grief as you had experienced these past months. No, it was something else.  

It was the pain of heartbreak and betrayal.  

It couldn’t be.  

You couldn't have been here when she was still in his house. There was no way, life could not hate him this way. It had to be something else that broke your heart, he had hurt you many times this past couple of months, and today was probably the day it all crashed down. It had to be that.  

"Clara let me in."  

No.  

"Nice girl, she left her number for you."  

You knew, you had seen the girl who was apparently named Clara, he didn’t really remember it. Bucky knew he had to do something, anything that could save your relationship. Perhaps if he begged you not to leave him, to let him explain everything that had been going on with him, and if he spent the rest of his days making it up to you, then you would stay. Maybe you could forgive him.  

He didn’t do any of that, though. The same thoughtless attitude washed over him like it had done ever since he came back. It was as if his brain forced him to act this way in order to protect his own heart in the long run. 

Instead of doing everything he could to fix this, he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.  

"How long?" you asked. Bucky could see your eyes watering as you tried to keep yourself together. He hated himself. "How long have you been cheating on me?"  

His mouth answered without his permission.  

"Does it even matter?"  

Maybe he was right. Maybe it the answer wouldn’t change the way you were feeling; if anything, it was bound to hurt you more. But a part of you wanted to know the truth, to extinguish the other half of your heart.  

You didn’t budge, so Bucky finally answered, not before rolling his eyes. "She’s the only one. I met her yesterday in a bar. "He shrugged. "It just happened."  

You knew the answer, yet it still hit you with the force of a thousand bricks. He admitted it. He fucking admitted it and he didn’t even show a single morsel of remorse. There weren't any apologies or begs, no promises, or big romantic and sorrowful speeches. You could feel your own love being smothered, the flames that had once brought so much warmth to your soul were replaced by cold and emptiness.  

Bucky Barnes didn’t love you anymore. 

Now  

Bruises covered your body as well as new injuries that would probably give you more scars. Dirt and blood slid down the drain, exhaustion settling in as your muscles relaxed. The droplets of water fell against your body, washing away everything that had happened today.  

You found the intel, you knew every single name of everyone involved with the heinous experiments you were chasing.  

You had almost died, one of the guys Bucky and you had cornered, had a bomb attached to his chest. You tried to stop him, your gun pointing at his head, but you were too slow. The explosion shook the entire structure, causing a chain collapse of the floors around you. 

Bucky had jumped to protect you, his body acting as a human shield, deflecting some of the impact.His flesh arm had a large metal piece embedded in it, as well as some burns on his back. The explosion had knocked you both out of the air, and the resulting wave had thrown you both across the room. 

As you tried to shake away the confusion and the ringing from your ears, you felt his hand find its place along your face and travel to your stomach. As he scanned you, blue eyes looked at you with fogginess but also deep concern. 

"You ok?" he had whispered.  

You nodded, but your mind was still fuzzy, perhaps you had hit your head, but you couldn’t remember much.  

But you remembered the desperation. You remembered everything crumbling apart as you tried to make your way to the exit. You remembered Sam’s voice screaming through your earpieces to get the fuck out of there. You remembered Bucky's hand always keeping you safe, guiding you through the clouds of cement and smoke.  

You also remembered how Bucky’s steps faltered before collapsing. Neither of you had noticed he had a second piece of metal scrap buried between his ribs. If he had removed it, his enhanced healing would have taken care of it, but the extenuating movements had caused damage to his lungs, bleeding, and a lack of oxygen, causing him to pass out. 

You remembered screaming for Sam’s help, begging him to help you save Bucky. You remembered the tears falling from your eyes as you tried to pull Bucky to safety, begging him not to die, begging him to wake up. You remembered the fire catching up to you, it’s warmth burning your skin. You wanted to kill Bucky, you would be happy if you never seen his face again, dance on top of his grave as you celebrated the end of his existance.  

Then why were you fighting so hard to save him?  

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. You can’t do this to me!"  

"Bucky wake the fuck up!"  

"Please! I can’t lose you like this!"  

Fortunately, Sam came for you, him and all his Captain America glory had saved both of you, his wings protecting all three of you as you carried Bucky outside. You had barely gone a few steps ahead when the building finally set one last explosion, ending with everything on it's way.All three of you landed on the floor with a thud as the shock wave reached you.  

You focused your attention on Bucky's wound, which was already healing, but his lack of response worried you.His breathing was barely existent, and his heartbeat was decreasing. You had straddled his lap and began performing CPR on him while asking Sam to go fetch the adrenaline shot you stored in the vehicle. You had punctured Bucky's chest with it, and after a few seconds, he had woken up.  

You remembered clinging to him as he tried to sit straight, the desperation finally gone from your body.  

The body behind you wrapped his hands along your waist, pulling you out of your memories and spreading the soap he had covered you with. Bucky's fingers traced all the way down your body, removing every trace of stress. 

After everything happened, Sam told you to go back to the safehouse while he met with Joaquin to try and start locating people with the intel you had gathered. You thought about fighting him, but one look at Bucky and any fight you had left was done.  

A knowing look from Sam told you this wasn’t just to let both of you rest and get cleaned up. It was a second chance.  A second chance at the talk you had avoided to had with Bucky ever since that night you slept together.  

You drove back to the safehouse, and once you had gotten inside, everything crumbled apart inside of you. As you reached out to Bucky, your tears had fallen, your hand lingering in his fleshy arm, right where his wound was.His hand cupped your face, his thumb tracing the stream of blood that fell from your eyebrow. In the silence of the room, no words were exchanged, but both your hearts understood.  

Just for today, you would allow yourselves to comfort each other.  

His lips peppered kisses along your shoulder as he cleaned you, his lips sometimes finding your neck or your lips when you would press yourself against him. As you spread the shampoo over his head, your fingers massaged his scalp with the tenderness he had missed, his eyes closing every time you hit the right spot. 

After drying yourselves and changing into new clothes, you both layed on the bed, covered over the head with the thin white sheet you had. You faced each other, blue eyes meeting yours. Your fingers found his face as you traced along every crevice and line you hadn’t seen before. Bucky appeared to have aged years in the time you hadn't seen him, but he remained as beautiful as ever. 

Your heart ached in your chest, and you couldn’t fight it anymore. You had denied yourself the other feelings that remained inside of you other than hate and betrayal, but today, as death seemed to call for both of you, it was clear you didn’t want Bucky Barnes to die. A part of you hated him so deeply you weren’t sure you would be able to stop, but no matter how strong the hatred was, you were sure a part of you still loved him.  

However, that part of you was broken. Battered and bruised to death by his own doing but it was still there. It was locked inside the thousand-foot wall you had built around it to keep it safe. Refusing to ask questions, refusing to talk to him, and refusing to admit the pain you were in. But in doing so you hadn’t given yourself the opportunity to heal. To move on.  

So you allowed yourself to feel and to talk. For both your sake and his. 

"Why did you do it?" you broke the silence. His breathing faltered as your hand retracted back to your side. "Why did you hurt me like that?"  

Bucky struggled to find the right words. You were asking him the same question he had asked himself for many, many nights. He asked himself that question when he wouldn’t reach for you at night. He asked himself that question when he didn’t open the door for you.  

He asked himself that question when you walked out of his life.  

You deserved the truth. The whole, unapologetic, heartfelt truth. So he gave it to you.  

"The first time I came back to myself, after fighting Steve in the helicarrier, I realized the world had moved on without me. My plans, my family, and the people I knew were all left in the past. They all moved on without me, everyone was gone except for Steve. I had a plan, after the war I would go back and find myself a beautiful girl to marry." A sad smile posed on his lips as he reminisced. "I wanted the white picket fence and three kids package. Cookouts with my family and friends while I was still a war hero. But all of that was gone the moment I woke up in a time that wasn’t mine. My dreams were gone."  

He paused before reaching for your face, his eyes closing before opening again, tears streaming down his cheeks."Ever since I woke up, I was a man drifting in a time that wasn’t mine, in a life that wasn’t mine. I didn’t have any dreams, or aspirations other than to survive and perhaps discover the truth. Nothing made sense to me, not until I met you." His thumb wiped away the tears you didn’t know they were falling. "You were the very first person, aside from Steve, that was kind to me. You talked to me, listened to what I had to say. You showed me what this new world was about, how to survive in it, and above all, you never doubted my innocence. It wasn’t because you knew me like Steve did, or because he had asked you as a favor. You were my friend, the very first I made when I was lost. And along the way, you turned into more, you were my new dream. I fell in love with you, and suddenly it didn’t matter that I wasn’t supposed to be here, or what it could’ve been because with you, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere."  

A sob escaped you, his words burning your heart, branding them with the love you once felt for him. The heartbreak and the pain came once again, but it felt different. It was comforting in a way that scared you, terrified you. You knew he had loved you once, but you had stored those memories far away where they couldn’t hurt you. Because it was easier to tell yourself that Bucky had never actually loved you than to think he had loved you and had still betrayed you.  

"But no matter how much time passed or how loved or comfortable I felt, I was still scared. I was terrified. Terrified of the same thing happening again. Every day, I'd tell myself, 'Something is going to happen, something is going to take me away from you, and when I come back, another hundred years will have passed.' And it did happen. When Thanos snapped me away, I came back, and to me only seconds had passed, but for you it was five years. Everything had changed again, even you. There was this sadness that seemed to have nested behind your eyes every time you looked at me. And every time I looked at you, I could see how much you had suffered because of me, it was my fault, and I couldn’t do anything about it."  

"It wasn’t your fault." You tried to argue, but his words interrupted you.  

"I felt like it was. I felt like I must’ve had some sort of curse that would always take me away from what made me the happiest, and in return, I would hurt everyone around me with it. I had died once again and the world kept going, once again. And I tried really hard to fight those thoughts, but it was as if a cloud of darkness would whisper to me that I didn't belong here anymore.That everything had changed once again, and it would happen again and again and again until I finally died. And I didn't know what to do; it was as if this voice was drowning me, washing away every ounce of happiness I had left inside me until all that remained was anger and resentment." 

His voice had broken, as had his ability to hold back the tears.He had buried this for so long, too embarrassed to say them aloud, to admit how he had messed up everything because he was afraid.He wasn’t the man who had sworn to protect you against everything, he was a coward. A coward who had let his own fear hurt you in ways he could never fix.  

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." Bucky kissed your forehead. "You didn’t deserve any of what I did to you, and I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for doing that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me, I’m sorry I pushed you away when all you did was trying to help me. I’m sorry I slept with someone else. I'm sorry I messed everything up because the truth is, you have been the best thing that has ever happened to me, past and present, and if I had to go through all of the pain, torture, and heartbreak all over again just to meet you, I would." 

You stayed there in silence for minutes. Neither of you dared say anything else that would break the silence. Both your hearts had been through a lot today, from the threats of death to the realizations of love and pain that had been confessed. But amongst the suffering and the torment, both of your hearts began to heal, and the pieces that had been ripped apart came back to where they belonged.  

You took his hands into yours, your lips kissing his knuckles. "I don’t know if I could ever forgive you for what you did." Bucky’s eyes closed in ache, he knew it was a possibility, but it still hurt to know there was no hope, but your words stopped him from spiraling. "But I would like to try."  

Hope. A tiny silver of hope. 

"Do you think there is a chance for us in the future?"  

You considered it. Your mind and your heart still pulling towards different directions but none of them letting you decide. Would you be willing to risk your heart once again for Bucky Barnes, or has the damage been too great to be fixed and covered? "I don’t know."  

"That’s ok. I'm not going to ask about it again unless you want me to." 

He kissed you one last time. His lips still had a subtle taste of smoke and burned, but above it was something overpowering, something both of you felt as he deepened the kiss. You both tasted redemption and forgiveness. 

Forever 

"Thanks for helping me."  

"Don’t thank me, I’m only doing it for the beer."  

Bucky and you chuckled at his poor attempt at a joke, your footsteps echoing in the half-empty apartment. A couple of seconds later, your mattress landed with a loud thud in your bedroom, making you happy to be finally done. You threw yourself on the bed, Bucky following you close behind, his heaviness bouncing you off. You turned to your side, resting your head on your hand, and he replicated your pose.  

It had been a year and a half since you decided to bring Bucky back into your life, and things had changed dramatically since then.You stopped doing solo missions and moved to New York, where you split your time between assisting Sam and Bucky with their shenanigans and volunteering at the woman's shelter Sam had connected you with. 

In the beginning, it was difficult to adapt to a tamer lifestyle than the one you had lived in the past year, but listening to all those women, the things they had been through, showed you that sometimes the thing people need to start healing is to have someone along the way.  

Bucky and you had become friends, just as you had been when you first met. It took time to get back to the beginning, but soon you found out how much you needed him as a friend, not a lover or a soulmate but just someone with whom you could talk. And, over the course of the many nights you spent talking, forgiveness found its way into your heart.You didn’t forget the past between both of you, but along the way there was understanding and care.  

"How was your date?"  

You shrug. "It was ok, not that great to be honest." 

During this time you had gone on a couple of dates, even went out with a guy for a couple of months, and since you and Bucky were ‘just friends’ you thought it would be uncomfortable to talk to him about them. But he had developed a habit of surprising you, and as it turned out, he was okay with it. When you asked why he was okay with it, his response surprised you. 

"I love you, I’ll always love you. But if you need me as a friend and nothing more, then I’ll be your friend."  

Your heart was still reluctant about him, after all, pain is a thing you can hardly forget. That had been the reason why you had tried to find someone else. Someone who could make you laugh as hard as he did, someone who could make you blush with just a cocky smile, someone who could calm you down and make everything better by simply holding you close at night.Someone who could make you happy. But all of them failed, because they weren’t Bucky Barnes.  

No one ever compared to Bucky Barnes, because after all the lies, heartbreak, and death surrounding you, he was still the only person who felt like home.  

Blue eyes stared at you and all you could feel was your heart racing. He was the man you had once loved and he had betrayed you, but time had mended your heart. The part of you that hated him was gone, and instead the love you felt for him came back, maybe not as strong as it once was but it didn’t matter. Your love was willing to build itself up, your love was willing to let him in one last time.  

"Ask me" you uttered. Your voice was so quiet that you thought he wouldn't hear you, but his puzzled expression told you otherwise. 

"What?"  

Your hand grabbed his, your thumb was drawing circles on his skin.  

"Bucky, ask me."  

Bucky’s heart stopped. A part of him had always told him that you would never want him back, and he couldn't blame you. He had hurt you in so many ways that he could never forgive himself. He had been sure the best he could have from you was friendship, and he had made his peace with it. Having you as only a friend was better than not having you at all.  

But you were giving him an opportunity, and he would be damned if he didn’t take it.  

"Would you—" he paused, clearing his throat.The nervousness inside him erased his ability to speak. "Would you like to go out for dinner? As in a date?"  

You made it seem as if you were thinking about it, but he didn’t worry about it. He knew your answer already.  

"Yeah, I guess I can make time for one date."  

You smiled. You gave him your biggest, most genuine smile in a long time.He smiled too.  

Loving Bucky Barnes hadn’t been easy. But as you both lay in your beds, his hands caressing your face and new hope brewing between you, your heart told you that this time would be different. 

He wasn't the same tormented man from another time you'd fallen in love with, and you weren't the same broken but hopeful girl he'd loved with all his heart.You both had hurt each other, but you had also grown, both of you in your own ways, and yet destiny had brought you back together.  

This time, neither of you was scared. 

This time, loving him would come as easily as breathing.

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[thedarlingdearestdead]

Why is it he's always covered in blood?

Summary: On a job with Anakin he arrives covered in blood. So you remove his cloak. Tensions rise and a diplomatic mission turns awry, the two of you need to go undercover, so he removes his shirt...

Warnings: A bit suggestive... kissing 🔥

Word count: 1,780

“You’re dripping blood all over the carpet” You say plainly, Anakin looks down at the bottom of his robes, soaked in red and seeping out into the carpet of the palace.

“Ugh, this is not a good look.” He rolls his eyes, then catches your curious gaze.

Perhaps you should have been slightly more worried, considering the volume and spread of the blood, but strangely this was not the first time that Anakin had returned from an outing in this state. 

“Don’t worry, its not mine.” He reassures you, looking behind him at the very suspicious and prominent trail that he had left as he walked into the chamber. He flinches slightly, this would not make the best impression with the Queen of this planet. 

You chuckle at him, taking his obliviousness in your stride. “I’ll need details later - as will the council.” You were technically supposed to be supervising him on this mission, a Master and friend of Obi Wan, you ought to have been a little more distressed by his statement. But he was clearly fine, and you trusted his judgement, unlike many others. 

Swiftly and efficiently you approach him slightly closer and move your hands up to unclasp the top of his cloak. His breathe hitches noticeably as you find the ties, your fingers brushing against his neck. But they soon disappear as you strip him of his cloak, carefully folding it down to cover and catch the blood soaked rims. 

Now holding this bundle, you looked around the empty chamber then shoved it inside a vase in the corner. Anakin burst out laughing but you flash him a stern look. This was the only way for the two of you to look at least presentable, it was the only way you would be able to be taken seriously, it was no joke. 

You hid your own laugh by summoning the force, masking your amusement for the sake of your dignity. Anakin straightened, “Thank you, Master L/N. A most creative solution.”

“We will be back for it later, and you will be the one to clean your robes properly. Now come along.” He follows you down the hall barely concealing a smirk. 

“You’re truly not hurt?” You confirm with him to make sure he doesn’t faint from blood loss in the middle of discussions - again. 

“A couple of scrapes, you know me. Nothing bad though, promise.”

“Honestly, Anakin, you’re almost worse than your Master.”

“Almost? I must try harder.”

“I beg that you don’t.”

As you enter the room, you're greeted by the Queen and several other high-ranking officials. You bow respectfully, and Anakin follows suit. You couldn't help but notice the glances they gave each other, probably due to Anakin’s dishevelment. But you had taken care of it the best you could. You continued as if everything was normal, everything was proper. The negotiations went well, the trade details settled, the treaty sent off. It was a success by all accounts.

The meeting concluded with a sense of understanding and a commitment to future negotiations. The Queen expressed her gratitude for your efforts and assured you of her willingness to cooperate. Anakin had managed to salvage the mission and build a bridge for future diplomatic relations, despite the initial chaos. You observed him closely, noting the way he seamlessly switched between formal language and more colloquial expressions. He had a gift for connecting with people, which was a trait that had always fascinated you.

On your way out you were once again unguarded, unsupervised by any palace staff. So the two of you went searching for Anakin’s cloak. Unfortunately the building was somewhat a maze, and you got lost quite easily. Though neither of you were worried, you were strolling through a perfectly beautiful building, on a perfectly lovely day - yes, stopping to look inside every vase you could find was slightly bothersome, but generally there was a light and satisfied feeling in the air. 

It was all too good to be true… 

As you turn a corner, you hear a faint whisper of voices echoing down the hall. Anakin becomes more alert, and tightens his grip on his lightsaber, and you reach out with the Force to sense any danger ahead. The voices grow louder, and you can hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You draw your own lightsaber, prepared for whatever may come, and praying its just paranoia. 

As the figures come into view, you see that they are a group of droids, marching down the hall with purpose. You relax slightly, but Anakin remains on edge. The droids are quickly passing you, ignoring your presence? But then suddenly, one of them turns towards you and raises its blaster.

Instinctively, you deflect the blast with your lightsaber, and Anakin ignites his own, charging towards the group of droids. You join in the attack, slicing through the metal bodies with ease. It is a quick but intense fight, and before you know it, the droids lay in pieces at your feet.

Anakin turns to you with raised eyebrows. “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.” 

“Do you think the queen is involved?”

“Almost certainly. I thought it was raiders which caught me outside by our ship and which I… dispatched of. But it could just have easily been a guard, or some of her people”

You nod, glad for some context for his earlier state. “We need to investigate.”

“Agreed.”

“There were some guards uniforms in that chamber down the stairs?”

“Good plan.”

The two of you extinguished your lightsabers but remained alert as you tidied up the droid parts - again disposing of them in a vase, which you did not find nearly as funny as Anakin did. You headed towards what you assumed was the storeroom or break room for palace staff. 

When you arrived it was obvious that the two of you would change and continue your mission undercover. So, it was on autopilot and by protocol that Anakin stripped off his shirt to do so. Even then it made your breathe hitch with surprise. 

You quickly averted your gaze and focused on finding a suitably sized disguise for yourself. Anakin seemed to not notice your reaction and started looking through the cabinets for uniforms. You joined him but your mind was still preoccupied with the image of his chiseled chest and defined abs. You had known Anakin for years, but you had never seen him shirtless before. His muscles rippled under his skin, and you couldn't help but admire his form. But you shook your head, reminding yourself of the seriousness of the situation. You needed to focus.

"Here they are," Anakin exclaimed as he pulled out two sets of guard uniforms. You forced yourself to focus and grabbed the offered one out of his hands.

You tried to distract yourself from his naked torso, tried not to notice the way his eyes lingered as you removed your own robes, but eventually it became too much. It was a simultaneous movement, as you both looked up at each other and locked eyes. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel the chemistry between the two of you growing stronger by the second.

Anakin took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out to brush against your cheek. You leaned into his touch, your heart racing as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. It was a soft, gentle kiss at first, but quickly turned more passionate as the two of you melted into each other.

Your hand went up his neck to grip at his growing hair, giving it a slight tug as he slips his arm around your waist. He moans into your mouth, pressing your chests together. You kiss for what feels like forever, the investigation, the mission, forgotten completely as he consumed you. 

As Anakin breaks the kiss, you both gasp for air, your bodies still pressed together. Your mind is reeling, unsure of what just happened. You had always felt a connection to Anakin, but you never acted on it. But now, in the heat of the moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Anakin's eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at you, his hand still resting on your waist. "I've wanted this for so long," he whispers, his voice husky with emotion.

You nod, unable to form words as you stare up at him. You had always been attracted to him, but you never thought he felt the same way. But now, with his lips on yours and his body pressed against yours, it was impossible to deny the energy between the two of you.

He kisses you again, this time harder, more insistent, more desperate. You respond in kind. His hands trail down your back, gripping at your thighs before picking you up completely. He pushed the two of you into the shelf and to your horror a resounding crash of falling armour echos through the room, and probably through half of the palace. 

His eyes and scrunched in frustration. You take a moment to lean back against the wall and breathe. Then he lowers you and the two of you are soldiers again. You barely have time to grab your lightsaber from one of the benches before guards are spilling in. He pushes you to the side to dodge a blaster shot before taking down the one at front. And it doesn’t really take long for the two of you to fight off this wave of enemies. 

By the end of it you are both panting again, he was still topless, you still in your singlet. It would have been most difficult to explain if anyone else were to walk in, or where to have survived the fight. But it was just the two of you. 

He was once again covered in blood and this time you were certain you looked no better. 

He reached forward to brush a hand through your hair, and you leaned into his touch as he leaned in to kiss you again. "We should go," you whispered.

"One more," he says. He kisses you again, harder than before, you moan in response to his effort. In the heat of the moment you hold each other tight and it is almost like a scene out of a holo. But it is the line of thinking that causes you to push him away. For the sake of your mission, your position, you couldn't let anything happen.

The two of you put on your disguises, cleaning the blood off what was visible on your faces, and went to interrogate the queen. 

[thenightfolknetwork]

So I used to have an ability where people would tell me things. Not with me asking mind you, just we'd start talking and they'd say things that they'd normally keep secret, or at least not tell a complete stranger. I'd try to warn people, or redirect the conversation if things got too personal, but it still kind of happened. A while ago though, I had something of a burnout, and my "gift" was probably part of it. And now it's gone. Is it weird that I kind of miss it? Even though it was a pain?

I don't think it's “weird” necessarily, reader – you'd grown used to existing in the world in a certain way and it makes sense that you would feel disconcerted when that way of being has been disrupted.

However, I wonder if it might not necessarily be the powers itself that you're missing, but rather the effect those powers had. Specifically, you've grown used to enjoying a remarkable level of intimacy with others without the usual hard work or reciprocation on your part.

Most people need a certain degree of emotional connection with other people in order to stay well. The quantity and quality of connection needed varies from person to person, with some people thriving on what others would find distressingly low levels of emotional engagement.

I wonder if you might have grown used to meeting your own needs in this regards through the use of your powers. That would explain your feelings of loss now, especially if you haven't got other avenues to meet those needs.

To be clear, I am not saying that as a judgement on you – this wasn't a power you asked for, nor one you could control. We have had letters from people in past who took a little too well to having this kind of control over people, and you don't strike me as one of them.

Besides, it is a wonderful feeling, to be trusted with someone's innermost thoughts and feelings. Growing close with others is a notoriously cyclical process – vulnerability is impossible without trust, and trust is impossible without vulnerability.

However, your powers meant you could skip straight to the part where other people are vulnerable with you, without sharing anything of yourself or building a connection with the people you're talking to. Without those powers, you're going to have to take the slow path.

Check in with your friends and loved ones, and try to be honest with them about your own emotions. Reach out to them when you're in need, and let them support you. In time, with a proper investment of effort and emotion, you will be able to build genuine connections with the people around you, replacing the easy hit you once got from your powers with something much more sustainable, and sustaining.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[darennkeller]

My solo indie game reached 10000 wishlists! I never thought it would be possible without a proper marketing team, budget or following.

How did I get those 10000 wishlists? Time to share what worked for me!

Disclaimer: I did sign with a publisher two months ago, and while they are already working on marketing stuff, nothing has been published yet. Those numbers are 100% from my own "marketing" efforts. There are people way better at this than me! I'm just sharing my experience here and I'll let you judge if it's helpful. Some things that did not work with me might work with others (and vice versa)!

(you can also read this and more in this free patreon article)

Let's sort what worked out the best for me.

Steam Events > Influencers > Reddit > Twitter > Devlogs

It might sound obvious, but take the time to check your wishlists regularly, especially whenever you're trying to give visibility to the game with a post/video/announcement/mail. It will allow you to know what works and doesn't. I usually check out youtube and twitch for gameplay videos or press articles whenever there's a bump while I'm not in an event or did not post anything.

Keep posting stuff on social networks. I know it takes time for a small reward, but it's good to have those regular wishlists and connect with other game devs/influencers. It also shows development is alive and you never know when it will reach an influencer or press. When I stopped sharing my stuff for a while, wishlists completely dropped, I was even loosing some everyday! However, do not post stuff EVERY day and do not spend too much time on this. My best results were with a few key posts on reddit (Reddit is harsh, but very rewarding), same thing on twitter. Sharing something interesting every 1-2 weeks instead of small things everyday seems to work better for me. Of course if you like to share your day to day progress regardless of the result, that's good and that's what social networks are for originally! Don't forget people go there to connect with others, not to be spammed by people promoting their stuff.

I publish devlogs on my youtube channel. I got ~200 wishlist from more than 100k views that took me weeks of work. I don't think publishing devlogs is an efficient way to promote your game, unless you go viral or that your videos also target players by being more accessible without too much technical stuff (mine are definitely targeting game devs for now). I'm only speculating here, but I think game developers are mostly interested in learning from your journey than actually wishlisting/playing your game compared to players which results in less wishlists. So do it only if it makes you happy and you want to share your journey (and be careful not to overwork while doing it)!

Influencers are great for 3 reasons:

1. They give your game visibility.

2. They give you feedback to make your game better.

3. They are usually keen to do it for free to help small indie devs.

Build yourself a press list: a list of press and influencer that might be interested in playing your game. I made a list of games that I think have the same target as mine and search on youtube/twitch for influencers that played those games. They usually have their business mail in the about section or on one of their social accounts. When you have something very interesting to show them (a new demo, event or announce) send them all a mail (but don not spam them)!

Here are two accounts you should follow to get tips about how to properly reach to influencers (and other game marketing in general): Clemmy and Wanderbot (subscribe to their newsletters!)

Events are huge for wishlists. It's easy and it does not take time to submit and they are usually free. But there are two big issues with events:

1. You have to find them.

The best free place to find most events is on the HTMAG discord created by Chris Zukowski (@AdventureMtn).

There's also this amazing calendar with all the events (thanks to @mreliptik for sharing this with me)!

2. You have to be accepted.

You need a demo, quality marketing assets to share and a good steam page. Again, Chris has some awesome tutorials (free and paid) to get a great steam page up. Consider supporting him if his tutorials helped you!

WARNING Do not submit your game to the steam next fest too soon like I did. You want to submit as late as possible, ideally just before your release. Each game gets one shot at the steam next fest, and the more wishlists you have going in, the more wishlists you'll get. I made that mistake because I thought I would release the game 2 months later (lol).

On a side note, you will have tons of wishlist deletions. Don't worry about it, that's perfectly normal (I won't lie, the first 1000 deletions still hit me hard though).

I think the best time to create your steam page is as soon you have a small trailer, screenshots and interesting description that do not look like a prototype full of placeholders. The sooner you have it, the sooner you start collecting wishlists! With the steam page also comes the whole steam community package, which is a plus to keep in touch with people who like your game. I don't really see any disadvantage in having a steam page early, but you might want to plan the communication around the page release to maximize visibility right away. Do not release it without telling anyone! When you demo is out, you can update your page and announce it everywhere too (try to give the exclusivity to a big showcase if you can!).

Things that did not work for me: devlogs, replying to influencers asking for games on twitter, using those spammy hashtags to promote your game (#wishlistwednesday etc...), posting uninteresting stuff about the game developement EVERY day, reposting the same content, posting on the popular subreddits, sharing my game on those "share your work" channel on discord servers, paid ads and plenty of other little "tricks" I wasted my time on. I think some things did not work out because of my game specifically. For example, some games definitely look better than others on socials. I don't think mine is, and it might explain why posting on socials is not as efficient as for other games (or maybe I'm wrong and I just did not find the right way to make it look interesting on socials!).

I hope this was was a nice read! Thanks again for your support and don't hesitate if you have questions!

[dreamfyrie]

Heart of the Sky (Part 1)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Your relationship with Aemond was strong, and he felt that it was time to take the next step. He wanted to introduce you to Vhagar. It wasn't that you were against meeting her, but you were from Dorne and grew up hearing horror stories about dragons. Especially Vhagar. Aemond assured you that as long as he was there, she would never hurt you. You didn't want to insult Aemond, but you trusted Vhagar as far as you could throw her. It didn't matter that they had some mystical connection, you had a bad feeling in your gut. Sometimes Aemond told you you looked so good he could eat you, hopefully, Vhagar wouldn't feel the same.

Aemond insisted that you wear pants and a shirt.

"You're not going to try to get me to ride her, are you? I swear to every God if you even suggest that I'll take your other eye."

"I'm not going to ask you to ride her, it's just best you wear something comfortable. You don't want to accidentally trip on your dress while you're meeting her and scrape yourself. She might smell your Dornish blood," he said with a cheeky grin.

"She can't actually do that, can she... I'm on my moon blood," you said, terrified.

"No, she can't. At least, I don't think so." He said the last sentence more to himself.

"Gods Aemond absolutely not. You're mad if you think I'm going anywhere near that old woman now."

Aemond could see that his joke landed very badly. "I promise you, you'll be fine. Do you think that I'd ever let anything bad happen to you? I'll hold your hand the whole time, if she eats you, she'll have to eat me too."

"You're very annoying, do you know that? Maybe she will eat you to teach you a lesson for bringing a Dornish woman around her," you said.

Both of you went back and forth before you finally gave up. You knew you would have to eventually meet Vhagar someday but thought you'd have a while longer to mentally prepare yourself. No amount of time would be enough to calm nerves, though, so you might as well get it over with.

The Dornish learn to fight and ride before they can even walk. You never went anywhere without proper pants and shirts. If an occasion arose where you could fight in a tourney or go riding, you were going to join. You were a princess of Dorne after all, no one could tell you no.

A couple hours later, you were begrudgingly getting on a horse, and Aemond looked at the defeated look on your face.

"I'm just going to introduce you real quick, and then we can leave. It'll be fine, you'll wonder why you were ever nervous in the first place," Aemond tried to convince you.

You rolled your eyes and followed behind him. There was no need to wonder why you were afraid, you knew exactly why. It was as if Aemond didn't want to acknowledge what Aegon the Conqueror had done to your people. You weren't sure if he just didn't care or if he wanted to ignore the past, so you wouldn't realize that a Martell being in a relationship with a Targaryen wasn't a very good idea. You were well aware of what your relationship with him looked like from the outside, but you didn't care. Aemond was intelligent and sensible, he was ambitious, but he wasn't power-hungry.

He had already gone to the dragon pit earlier and brought Vhagar out so she was ready to meet you. Aemond had a feeling that going in the pit to coax her out wouldn't be something you'd enjoy very much. She was waiting outside when you two rode up the Hill of Rhaenys and approached the daunting building. You hoped Aemond hadn't woken her up from a nap for this, but you knew he had. What else would a centuries-old dragon be doing with her time?

Aemond hopped off his horse first and walked over to help you down when he saw you making no effort to get off your’s. You sat there staring at Vhagar, waiting for her to smell your blood and decide she didn't take kindly to Aemond having another woman in his life. Staying on this horse was your best chance of escaping and not being burned alive. You greatly enjoyed not being dead.

You were too busy being frozen in fear that you didn't even notice that Aemond was pulling you off the horse by your waist. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, stopping you from jumping back on the horse and riding away as fast as you could.

"I got you, relax. I won't let go of you, I promise," he whispered, trying to soothe you.

You had his arms in a death grip, making sure he wasn't able to break that promise even if he wanted to.

"If I'm going down, you're going down with me. I hope you know that," you told him.

Aemond chuckled. "Dying in the arms of a prince is a privilege that would have most women feeling honored."

You smiled sweetly at him. "The only thing I'm doing after death is coming back alive so I can kill you again, my prince." Aemond chuckled at you again. No one amuses him more than you. You hated how much you loved his laugh, he was knocking down all the walls your survival instincts had built up.

He began shuffling the two of you towards Vhagar, keeping his word about not letting you go. You knew what a dragon smelt like, Aemond was almost permanently covered in her scent, but you had never inhaled it straight from the source. She smelt... powerful. It was strangely exhilarating, like a rush of adrenaline was overwhelming your senses. You would never admit that to Aemond though, you'd never hear the end of it. He slowly walked you closer and closer, not wanting to rush you. When the both of you were right in front of her, all of your instincts to run came flooding back into you. Aemond held you even tighter.

He had his left arm tightly locked across your waist while grabbing your right hand with his and putting it flush against Vhagar's face. She inhaled deeply, and you hoped Aemond's familiar scent was stronger than yours. Aemond deciding that you needed to meet Vhagar while you were on your moon blood was the most absurd idea he's ever had, and you've heard a lot of his ideas.

"She likes you," Aemond hummed.

"She's an old lady, all she likes is eating and sleeping, and maybe you sometimes," you whispered.

"Vhagar still has her wits about her, she's aware that you're here. Trust me, if she didn't like you, she wouldn't be shy about letting us know," he said.

That wasn't reassuring in the slightest, but the last thing you needed to do was be negative. You didn't want her to sense that you were annoyed at her rider. Gods knows what she'd do to defend him.

"Do you think you're ready to leave the dragon pit now?" Aemond asked.

"I've never been more ready to leave anywhere in my life," you said, relieved.

"It'll feel like a long climb your first time, but it gets easier," he smiled.

"A long climb where?"

Aemond started pushing you further down the length of Vhagar where the ropes lay to climb her.

"No, no. You promised you weren't—," you started frantically shaking your head.

"That was before you met her, don't you feel different now that you know she likes you?" Aemond said charmingly.

"No! I feel very much the same, actually!" You whisper-yelled at him.

"Just trust me, please."

He had so much hope and warmth in his eyes. You knew this was a big deal for him and probably one of the biggest moments of his life. There's no one other woman in the world that he would ever think to bring to meet Vhagar, let alone invite to ride her. That was a very intimate bond to intrude on, and you knew it.

You look between him and Vhagar hesitantly. Aemond looked so sweet, you knew he loved you and wanted to share not only his life but his dragon with you.

"Aegon the Conquerer was wrong for what he did to your people, and there's nothing I can do to make up for his actions. He and his sisters might have used their dragons for destruction, but they're not monsters. They're beautiful and loyal creatures, they cannot help what their riders ask of them. Let me give you something. Let me give you a gift that only a select few have gotten to witness. I want to give you the sky," he said with passion.

Everything in your mind was telling you to say no, but your heart couldn't help how much you loved him. You had never been more scared in your life, but you agreed. As much as you distrusted dragons, you trusted Aemond with your life.

"I don't want to be up there for too long, please bring me down when I ask," you said.

"I will, I promise," Aemond kissed you on the forehead.

Aemond instructed you on how to climb up Vhagar and was climbing up below you to catch you in case you slipped.

"Are you actually below me because you care about my safety or because you want a view of my ass?"

"Why can't it be both?" he smirked.

You kicked the top of his head with your boot.

"Oops, I must've slipped, sorry," you said, your voice laced with sarcasm.

"She can feel my pain, try not to slip again," he said slyly.

You stilled, looking at him with wide eyes. He laughed at you and motioned for you to keep climbing. You didn't slip again.

Once you were up there, you didn't know what to do.

"Just walk over there and sit in the saddle," he said from behind you, almost at the top.

There was more than enough room to stand up and walk on Vhagar's back to get to your destination, but there was no way in seven hells that you'd trust your balance that much. You didn't care how coordinated you were, you drew the line at taking a relaxing stroll on the back of the biggest dragon in the world. Aemond laughed at you as you crawled to the saddle, but you didn't care. You didn't make it this far to have your death be pathetically falling off her. If you were going to die because of Vhagar, it at least needed to be exciting, like getting eaten or burned alive, or maybe falling off once you were in the air, not before.

Aemond walked behind you with perfect balance while you crawled into the saddle, and he joined you, sitting with his chest against your back and arms wrapped around you.

"That was the hardest part, things can only go up from here."

"Yeah, literally," you grumbled.

Aemond smiled to himself, and you listened as he gave Vhagar a command in High Valyrian. You were suddenly moving, she was moving. Aemond grabbed the reigns while keeping his hold on you secure. You were holding onto him like your life depended on it, which it sort of did. When Vhagar was finally standing up, she started stretching her body, getting ready to fly. You hoped she took her time warming up, the last thing you needed was for her to pull a muscle in her wing or something during the flight.

"Are you ready, or are you still nervous?" Aemond whispered into your ear.

"Why can't I be both?"

Aemond gave you that heart-fluttering laugh again and sent his final command to Vhagar. The three of you were flying.

[atwas-gaming]

Thoughts on the Final Horizon

I've been trying to put my thoughts on Final Horizon into a cohesive analysis, and... it hasn't happened yet. So just have some terribly disjointed thoughts.

Gameplay

First off, I want to say that I only filled in about a third of the map, so I probably didn't get the full story on anything. But I did beat The End, so I have seen how the story actually ends. And personally, I'm calling this the true ending. For one thing, the boss feels like a proper boss- it's very difficult to figure out on your own, it's easy to mess up, it's not just an out-of-place mini-game that felt like it was shoved in at the last second, and we're not left scratching our heads and wondering why literal Death wasn't so much harder.

Easy and medium modes in the base game left me with the same reaction as Sonic: "Is that it???" Hard mode left me feeling like nothing made sense. Seriously, a destroyer of worlds can't do better than a few dark and light particles and an occasional death laser? I spend most of hard mode in the base game going, "Ugh, I suck at bullet hells, what does this have to do with Sonic, anyway?!?"

The required mini-games were annoying enough, but to make it into a boss fight? Never made sense, and it never felt like a real Sonic boss.

But The End in Final Horizon does. First we fight Supreme. Same old Supreme fight as ever. And he whips out his gun and you're going, "gee, I wish they'd done more with that." But then you get into the final boss, and they did. The gun is how The End is filling Supreme with its power, connecting its siphon to it to fill Supreme with its power. We have to remove the siphon, and then the gun, to be able to destroy Supreme, and that gives us the opportunity to go after the moon.

I am not convinced that the hands that sprout from Supreme's back weren't inspired by TOTK's gloom spawn XP. Especially in the second phase of the fight, when they start glowing and spitting at us.

The perfect parry we learned to use in Master King Koco's trial (along with the punch-stomp technique, amirite?) suddenly becomes important instead of just a nuisance.

If you're like me and you were a little disappointed that Sonic automatically cylooped Knight's sword instead of us getting the chance to cyloop it, we now get the chance to cyloop Supreme's gun.

I have a few nitpicks on the design, largely the fact that those dang trees were in the way most of the time, and also that it was so hard to figure out how to manage the fight (I totally forgot that dodge changes the target, so I spent an hour or two trying to figure out why I couldn't just kill Supreme and then go after the moon). Otherwise, I think it was fairly well-designed, considering that it was a DLC addition.

Story

As for the story aspect, I loved it. It was honestly about time Sonic got a new form, and Cyber Sonic fits him so well. It's clearly more than he can handle, but he "goes all out," because if he doesn't, it's over. He's not just saving his friends, anymore- he has to destroy literal Death, or the universe itself will be destroyed. (Just the universe? From the way this thing is capable of destroying the walls between dimensions, I think Sonic just saved the whole freaking space-time continuum.)

And it becomes a team effort. First Sage steps up to throw up a shield similar to the dimensional shield that kept The End trapped for milleni- albeit a much smaller one that begins breaking almost immediately; however, the fact that she could do it at all speaks volumes about not only her strength, but her ability to tap into Cyberspace. Then Team Sonic joins in, each of them equal in strength to Sage because of not only their connections to Cyberspace, but also the cyber corruption they've suffered as a result of retrieving the Emeralds.

Sonic develops new attacks and abilities, apparently having gained even greater speed and agility than ever before because of the Cyber Corruption. I don't know if this happens all the time or if I just screwed up somewhere, but it seemed like The End shot out some kind of huge energy ball that ripped both the Emeralds and the rings right out of Sonic- but then he just pulled them all back in, somehow?

I was sitting there through the whole fight going, "Come on, come on, we gotta take out that moon!" And the way they did it was, I think, even better than the normal ending (base game). In the normal ending, Sage throws Sonic into The End, and while it's enough to do some damage, Sonic is just too small. Sage, in Supreme, is large enough and has enough power to completely obliterate The End- something Sonic couldn't have done even if he'd released all the Emeralds' power while he was passing through the moon's center. He would have died for nothing. But Sage dies, instead. And we get a post-credits cutscene of Eggman rebooting Sage from backup copies. This is the normal ending.

That's why I think of Final Horizon as the True Ending- it's the one where no one dies except the bad guy. And its so perfect. Eggman and Sonic just... they just work together like they each know what the other one's going to do (one of the benefits of having been enemies for so long, I guess). There's almost no conversation between them, Eggman's already got the gun attached to the Eggmobile, he doesn't have to tell Sonic that Sonic is going to be the bullet, he just knows to do it.

Once Sonic is safely enclosed deep within the barrel of the gun, he releases the barriers that he himself put up to protect himself from the corruption, becoming a little ball of pure cyber energy. The last time the corruption took him over, he turned into a statue, like stone. This time, he holds onto his mind long enough to remain conscious while he does what he has to do. Nothing is said about his mental condition, he just roars like an animal as he rushes at the shell of Supreme's casing and the moon. I imagine he let his amnesia take over, let his mind be taken over by pure rage and one thought: DESTROY THAT THING.

(Also, I recommend watching Sonic strike the final blow in Japanese. Junichi's screams are just so perfect. Roger's voice acting in Frontiers is amazing, but I'm sorry, Roger is still the worst screamer. Junichi is amazing here.)

And then... maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think I've ever seen Super Sonic look beat up, or unconscious. Perhaps it was the Emeralds that gave Sonic the ability to hold onto himself long enough to fight? At any rate, he unleashed his Cyber power while inside The End, destroying it, and neutralizing the corruption so it didn't affect him anymore.

And then Sage finally gets to hear Eggman call her his daughter. And... the final boss music from the base game finally makes sense. I never understood why it was so tender and lovely, or why it was called "I'm With You." I figured it had something to do with Sage, but I couldn't figure out what. Now that we have lyrics, it makes sense. All she was ever thinking about was her father. Even in the base game, before she realized that she would have to die, she was just looking forward to the day that she would have a family.

BTW, I'm still not a fan of the whole "daddy Eggman" thing, I see his fondness for Sage as purely narcissistic- he built her, and she protects him, and he's proud of her for exceeding his expectations. I don't think he cares about her, he just cares about what she does for him. But even so... it's still touching. And Sonic does have a monologue on Ouranos where he says something like, "Eggman, maybe you'll finally get your act together this time." Perhaps they are leaning in that direction. Hmm... tbh, I wouldn't mind seeing him get a redemption arc, eventually. Doubt it will ever really happen, but I'm a sucker for a redemption story, so I can hope.

Final Thoughts (and some hopes for Frontiers 2)

Anyway, despite some of the shortcomings and a lack of properly setting us up and preparing us for it, I think Final Horizon was good. I can't say that it leaves me feeling like they gave us the ending they had originally intended. For instance, I've heard that Ouranos was originally intended to be set in space or something (just a rumor I heard in one video- apparently there's a lost voice clip of Sage saying something about a mothership). So, I don't feel like we got the full story as it was originally intended.

But, like... this was the biggest and most well-received Sonic game to come out in generations (see what I did there?). And I believe Sega has already said they plan on using a similar format for the next game.

Now, I'm not trying to make a prediction or get anyone's hopes up, but... well...

I mean, Team Sonic's gonna go do their own things, right? Amy and Tails are going off to explore on their own, Knuckles says he wants to go somewhere and not be tied down to Angel Island so much anymore. So, who's gonna go with Sonic on his next adventure?

May I suggest making Team Dark relevant again?

And then, since we've already involved aliens and Ancient alien technology and the Emeralds apparently came from space... and Shadow is part alien... You see where I'm going with this?

It's just my own idea, but hey, I can dream, can't I? They could make a whole 'nother huge game if they went such a route.

Anyway, whatever they decide to do, I'm looking forward to it. Frontiers was a heck of a ride- lol, I've been on this ride almost non-stop for a year now. If Sega does as good with the next game, I definitely want to see it!

[resurrection-of-soul]

Flashback | PSYCHOBREAK 11

Writer: Akira (日日日)

Characters: Rei, Adonis, Koga, Kaoru

Rei: What the heck, you're gonna make me cry… It's enough to move even my weary, withered heart. I've been thirsty for so long… But right now, strangely, I feel satisfied.

[ For the best viewing experience, please read directly on my blog! ♪ ]

Rei: ~………♪

Adonis: Oh? Sakuma-senpai, where did you get that guitar?

Rei: This is the temple belongin' to bouzu's family, yeah? I remembered leavin' a buncha instruments in their storehouse, so I went and grabbed 'em just now.

Koga: What are you, a couple that just broke up?

Rei: Emotionally, it really does feel like that. Even though we're cooperatin' like this at the moment, I don't think there's a~any hope of us gettin' back together. Even if he wants us to, I'm to~otally not into him anymore. Cause y'see, right now, I'm in the mood for new encounters ♪ ♪~♪~♪

Adonis: Ohhh… What a great song. Even though the melody is very aggressive, when you listen to it, it makes you feel strangely uplifted. Oogami, you composed a song like this all by yourself? That's amazing.

Koga: Y-yeah… But it's just that the person performin' it is crazy skilled…. In Sakuma-senpai's hands, even a mediocre song'll become a masterpiece.

Rei: Aw, he's feelin' shy. How nice it is to be so young n' innocent~. I wanna regain those kinds of pure feelings too~ Or rather... I'm sure that's exactly what Pup was hopin' for when he named us UNDEAD. Just like Adonis-kun, he sensed I was feelin' down, though in his case it mighta been subconscious… He was hopin' t' help me regain my liveliness so I could be revived. What the heck, you're gonna make me cry… It's enough to move even my weary, withered heart. I've been thirsty for so long… But right now, strangely, I feel satisfied. I suppose, more than a million compliments… What I wanted was someone's pure feelings. ♪~♪~♪

Kaoru: Ohhh~ I don't really get what's going on here, but you guys sure are lively, huh~?

Rei: Yo, Hakaze-kun. Nice entrance, ya nailed the "executive comin' to check in on his employees" vibe. Just when I was startin' t' worry ya wouldn't show, too.

Kaoru: There's no way I'd be a no-show… After all, as the one who hired you to exterminate the "vampires" it's, like, totally my duty to make sure you guys don't slack off, right? I never thought I'd end up being part of a group as weird as "UNDEAD," though.

Rei: You're also an aspirin' idol at Yumenosaki academy, ain'tcha? So you'll be a valuable asset.

Kaoru: Don't get your hopes up, 'kay~? I'm notorious for slacking off at school. But, well, if I wanna protect my workplace — my place to belong — then I guess I'll have to put in some effort for once. What a pain, just kill me now~♪ So, that said, I totally made some promotional flyers to hype up tomorrow's showdown. Hand them out to your friends, 'kay? Though with the exception of Sakuma-san, who's super well-connected, it'll probably be a drop in the bucket. Also, I got a fancy stage all set up. Or well, not just me personally, but all the guys who run the shops downtown. They're super enthusiastic about helping out. I would have liked to get custom stage costumes too, but, like? I didn't know your measurements, and I figure there's probably not enough time to get anything made, anyway.

Rei: That's fine by me~ It ain't like our enemies are gonna be all that thorough either, so it'd look better if we just sing in our school uniforms, rather than showin' up in full costume n' comin' off as total try-hards. It'll be fair n' square; a real, proper match.

Koga: Hmm… So the reason we haven't seen ya at all up 'til now ain't cause you were slackin' off, you were actually busy gettin' a buncha stuff ready. I'm seein' you in a new light, Hakaze…senpai. Ya step up to the plate when it counts.

Kaoru: Yup, yup! I'm the kind of man you can rely on~ Really, it's true ♪

Koga: Yeah. Ya seem irresponsible at first glance, but you're actually a reliable guy. I'll remember that.

Adonis: Yes. You have been filling in the gaps we did not notice. It's a big help.

Kaoru: Even so, I still think we're, like, totally unprepared~ I mean, honestly. We've got the venue all set up, but we're seriously lacking in terms of practice, aren't we? The live to exterminate the "vampires" is tomorrow, isn't it? At this point, aren't we basically just winging it?

Rei: Well that's exactly why we're havin' this little get-together, yeah? It's also a chance for us to get t' know each other, since we're a newly formed unit n' all.

Adonis: It is more of a reorganization than a formation, though.

Rei: Ahaha. Funny how Adonis, who's the least familiar with Japanese, is the most precise about the meanin' behind words.

Adonis: Words are important.

Rei: Sure are. In this country, there's a belief known as kotodama¹. I heard about it from a good friend of mine who passed away recently—

Koga: Hasumi-senpai ain't actually dead, y'know… Even though he decided to work from behind the scenes, he's even more fired up about this than us. He even went and convinced his parents to let us use this place for practice without us even askin'.

Kaoru: He needn't have bothered, though~ We could've just, like, practiced at my family's live house.

Rei: 'Tis a good thing, ain't it? The weather's lovely today, and there doth lie a certain sense a' refinement in singin' n' dancin' beneath Mr. Sun's rays. We're gonna be huntin' "vampires," thus let us soak up their greatest weakness n' amass as much of its power as we may. ² ♪~♪~♪

Kaoru: A-are things really going to be okay like this~? You're talking, like, super optimistically and all, but do we have any guarantee that we can actually defeat the "vampires?"

Rei: Nobody knows the future. Not even me, obviously. But, somehow, I feel like things'll work out. For some reason, there's some gramps-like guy inside my head agreein' with me, goin' all, "Aye, 'tis exactly so," too.

Kaoru: What do you mean, "some guy inside my head"? Are you drunk?

Adonis: I asked the same thing earlier.

Rei: I'm perfectly sober. We're the ones who're gonna get rid of the delinquents, so there's nooo way I'm gonna go around breakin' the law like 'em. Without descendin' to the level of our enemies, we'll become like the sun and burn away the vices which corrupt the earth. Leave it to me. I'm feelin' oddly good, so I'll give it my all in tomorrow's performance. I can't say for sure what'll come after, but I can guarantee ya this much, at least.

[ ☆ ]

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Kotodama, or the soul of language, is the belief that words, especially names, hold power. Words must therefore be chosen with deliberate care, as they can have real effects on you and the people/things around you. You know how in shows and movies, martial artists always yell "Hyah!" or smth along those lines prior to attacks? That practice is rooted in this principle, with the idea that a confident, aggressive shout lends power to the attack. (Which is also why every shounen anime ever has the chars going around shouting their attack names.)

Rei is speaking in a haphazard mix of his delinquent and archaic old man speech for these lines. Yes, it does sound just as bizarre in JP as it does in ENG.

[elejahfanfic]

klena_

_dream of love

klaus x elena_

ft. elijah & tatia

a/n: a very au story. Klaus is not (yet) the big bad wolf. Elijah doesn't know he is a Mikaelson. He is Elijah Smith, as he was taken by a witch as a baby from Esther.

I always turn everything upside down.

This is a Klena love story.

*

_the klena manip below is not mine.

*

New York

Elijah Smith sat down at the table of his lavish penthouse apartment looking at the photo of his bride to be - Tatia Gilbert.

There was not a day that he didn't miss her. Not a day passed that he did not go to sleep with the thought of her or woke up with his heart beating for his loved one.

Though he had all the money in the world and had spent every possible way he could think of to find her, it seemed that some greater power was holding all his efforts back.

"Hey" Elena walked in the lounge, greeting her  her sister's fiance.

"Hello." Elijah said putting the photographs and letters back in a box.

"You didn't sleep." the brunette stated the obvious as Elijah's ragged look, and crinkled shirt were proof enough.

"Everything just - we were supposed to get married two years ago on this day. And - oh I wish she never went on that expedition."

"Yeah - but you know that she had to go. She breathed archeology. And she is such a free spirit." Elena said, her own heart aching for her twin sister.

"Yes. That is one reason I fell in love with her. She was so full of life," Elijah drew a sad breath,"and I don't believe that she is gone."

"And you think that they will help us find her? And that they would not want anything in return - just the amulet"

"I sincerely hope so. Right," Elijah got up and now took the box, "I will get some sleep. And - you can stay here as long as you like."

"Thanks. But I will look for an apartment. It's about time"

"Damon came looking for you, and I told him not to come calling here again. He was drunk and pretty violent."

"Thank you, Elijah. I am really sorry about - the idiot." Elena said apologetically.

"No problem. I am happy that you finally have opened your eyes regarding this guy." Elijah said.

Elena nodded and turned towards the big window, gazing out, her thoughts swayed to another man and the Ball in New Orleans. 

🦋✨

New Orleans

Algiers

"What do you mean, you're packing your bags and going to New York? You don't know anyone there." Rebekah Mikaelson said to her half-brother stunned as he announced to the blonde that he was leaving.

"Marcel is there. I talked to him and he says that I can crash at his place till I got on my feet. If there is a place to make it as an artist it's there. I got to at least try. You are going away soon with your rich fiance and I will be left alone here anyway."

"Yes" Rebekah sighed, "you do. I don't know why you are not letting Stefan help you. He's got connections - he said that your paintings are good."

"You know how I feel about his snobby friends - and I want to make it on my own. Exhibit with a Gallery that finds your work worth the while. Get a proper art dealer." Kol said.

"I get you. You want to do it the hard way. And I respect that. But Stefan is a good guy -"

"Rebekah please - I know that he is - but - this is something I got to do by myself."

"All right," The blonde nodded, giving her brother a semi-hug, "I will definitely come and visit you."

"I am sure you will." Klaus put on a charming smile and now kissed his sister on a cheek as a small bye. 

"Here" Rebekah took out a wad of money from her purse, "please take this."

"Bex, I'm fine." Klaus refused the money.

"I know that you are. But New York is really expensive and - you will need this. You will give me all of it back when you are famous painter - with interest." Rebekah joked shoving the money in her brother's jacket.

"You bet I will. Thanks, sis." Klaus now took his bag hearing the horn of Jackson's car go. 

With tears in her eyes Rebekah motioned to the man to go and he left.

Well I've been out walking

I don't do that much talking these days

These days

These days I seem to think a lot

About the things that I forgot to do

And all the times I had the chance to

...

I had a lover

I don't think I'll risk another these days

These days

And if I seem to be afraid

To live the life I have made in song

It's just that I've been losing so long

In the cab that headed to the airport, Klaus looked out of the window, his thoughts now fast escaping into a daydream.

He traces her lips lightly with the tip of his finger. As she pouts slightly he feels the urge to kiss it, to wrap her up in his arms and listen to her gentle breathing.

This feeling is so strange. Could it be love? No. Though it stretches throughout his whole body. It's overwhelming.  And yet strangely makes him feel complete. It feels like he is in a dangerous fire, yet completely safe at the same time.  It feels as though his heart is dancing around his chest. He feels so light, like he is on top of the world yet his heart is constricting and it feels as if there's no oxygen in his lungs.

It's strange – frightening even – how one can go from someone being a complete stranger, to then being completely infatuated by them and wondering how it ever was that one was able to live without them. 

Will he ever see her again?

[isfjmel-phleg]

If you've read Young Justice 1998, you'll be familiar with Bonnie King-Jones, mother of Cissie, former Miss Arrowette and current stage mother. Her character was created in the 1960s and made a few guest appearances in Green Arrow stories, and I stumbled across these while looking for something else.

Those 1960s comics really contextualize where Bonnie is coming from during her appearances as an older adult in the 1990s.

Bonnie King is introduced after having won an archery contest that grants her the title "Miss Arrowette." Encouraged by this success, she determines to use her skills to help Green Arrow and Speedy.

(World's Finest Comics #113)

Like Green Arrow, she uses trick arrows, but they're all themed with beauty products or other stereotypically feminine objects. In universe, this is likely because those items were what Bonnie had on hand; presumably she makes all these arrows herself. From a Doylist perspective, however, this seems a lot like a male writer trying extra hard to make this character A Girl rather than a hero using situationally appropriate tools.

Bonnie's trick arrows do get put to some clever uses! But note that the guys get to use things like "boxing glove arrows."

And Oliver's immediate response to her is to hope that she will stop what she's doing, because girls shouldn't be vigilantes. Actual children, as long as they're male, sure, why not. But "this isn't a game for girls!"

And the narrative reinforces this by having Bonnie's efforts result in Oliver and Roy getting kidnapped. See! Girls are incompetent in this area. But the guilt doesn't stop Bonnie.

Her aggressively girly arrows continue to prove quite useful, and even Oliver wants to borrow some of them once she catches up to him. He gets to use them, because she is finally behaving like a proper girl and is now too scared to get involved anymore. Leave that to the men.

And she duly swears off crime-fighting at the end--it's "not for girls like me!" The moral of the story seems to be: girls, don't meddle in men's business because you're too incompetent to keep up, and any innovative ideas you might have need to be turned over to men who can utilize them properly.

Bonnie, though, can't be kept down. She still practices her archery, and she's ready to jump in and help at the first opportunity.

(World's Finest Comics #118)

She's still using her trick arrows, which are still confined to the beauty products theme. Green Arrow uses firecracker arrows; Miss Arrowette has...bubble-bath arrows?

This isn't really Green Arrow and Speedy whom she comes to assist; they're crooks who are impersonating them in order to steal from a charity event. Bonnie doesn't know that, but she picks up on something being off, assumes they're ill and hiding it, and determines to look out for them. But of course the narrative can't let her be seen as competent, and she throws off Oliver's already-in-place plan to foil the criminals.

Nevertheless, she stands up to the criminals and finally detects that they're imposters (by, of course, means that are connected to stereotypical expectations of a woman).

Even though her contributions help save the day, in the end she has to apologize to Oliver for messing up his plans and gets reminded that crime fighting is Not For Her.

And once again, she does not take that advice to heart. The next time she appears, she picks up on something that Oliver has missed, which sends him on the trail of a new case. Even so, he remains condescending and tells her to "keep your pretty powdered nose out of this!"

(World's Finest Comics #134)

Has this man learned nothing? Bonnie's trick arrows once again prove useful and ingenious, and her involvement helps save the day.

And finally, at the end, even though Oliver chides her for not obeying orders (like he's her boss or her dad or something), he acknowledges that her contribution was valuable.

And then she never shows up in another Green Arrow story again!

The account of Bonnie's past that her daughter Cissie tells in Secret Origins 80-Page Giant #1 is a bit different. In this version, Bonnie is the daughter of a mother who pressured her into training for the Olympics and was disgusted with her for only getting a bronze medal. Bonnie temporarily gives up archery but resumes it to help Green Arrow and Speedy. "She wanted to be treated like a hero," says Cissie, "but after the childhood she had, she couldn't bring herself to train like one." Her incompetence nearly gets her hurt, and Green Arrow has to rescue her. Her archery career comes to an end shortly after.

But this is Cissie's version of what happened, and she's not too fond of her mother when she's telling it. I think there's room in this narrative for the 1960s version of Bonnie's career to fit in too.

All this to say, no wonder Bonnie ages into an aggressive, ambitious woman determined to see her daughter succeed. No wonder she pushes for fair treatment of Cissie in any potential merchandising for YJ when the group forms. She has had to put up with sexism in her career from the beginning, gotten told over and over that she couldn't and shouldn't use her gifts, and then finally lost her chance to succeed on her own account. She's got something to prove to the world, and she, unfortunately but understandably, transfers these goals and dreams to her very talented daughter who can carry them out. Bonnie has been hurt by life, and her coping mechanism is to lash back through the only means she has. Regrettably, she inadvertently ends up hurting Cissie too.

[lilacs-and-lavenders]

I logged out and stopped playing early. Idk...I'm just bored...like I have no one to hang out with and talk to and sometimes it gets a bit depressing seeing other people hanging out and having fun together. Anytime I have tried to make friends and be kind to people I would always get treated like garbage. I have nothing but traumatic memories of people and how they all treated me like shit. Like wow...am I really that unlikeable? Why was I even born then? 😅

But seriously, though. While it is true that you dont need to have friends, life is more fun when you do have them. Right now...I'm just bored. Lonely and bored. Life feels so dull and pointless. Like?? What's the point to anything? Like you think you are living right and it's like "Okay God I cut off the toxic friends and the people who were bad influences so when am I going to have people to talk to or am I just going to be destined to talk to myself for the rest of my life?" And that is what I actually do. I have full conversations with myself because I have no one to actually talk to. I guess God wanted me to be isolated from everyone and not have any social skills. lol okay so that made me undeniably crazy. what was the point of that exactly? what is the point of me being here? to be a laughing stock to people? to be the butt of a joke? like why? what is the purpose of me being on this earth. I'm tired of everyday being the same thing over and over.

I feel like I dont really have much of a life nor much to offer. I can't work or drive because of my mental health and my inability to handle stress and my crippling anxiety. I have no social skills and lack the proper necessary skills to make connections and talk to people. Why the hell am I here? I'm just so bored with my damn life.

It must be nice for the people who do have friends and who do have relationships. You're fortunate. I'll probably never have that especially since it seems like God clearly doesn't want me to. I am wondering why I am even still serving Him. I know I shouldn't be envious of people or covet what they have and I dont want to but?? You arent exactly helping me not to now are you? I want friends...I want a relationship...I want human connection but I never get that. I just get treated like garbage like I am nothing and worthless. Its like each time I see people hanging out that is just the universe's way of telling me "yeah you will never have anyone or connect with them. you will never have that. they are fortunate and you arent". And where are you in this, God? Do you care about my suffering? You said in your word for us to delight ourselves in you and serve you and I have done that and even so with all of the time I have given you and all the times I have defended your name and honored you, I get nothing in the end but suffering. How is that fair?

I dont connect with anyone and any connection I do try to make always falls through the cracks and I have to do all the work while they lose interest and stop talking to me. Now I no longer trust anyone after all the betrayals and abandonment. My life just sucks and I'm tired of living it honestly. Like the people who treat me bad always have people to support them and help them but I get absolutely nothing but people telling me that "they dont enjoy being around me when I am sad". How is it that other people can get support and love and they dont even serve you and yet I get absolutely nothing when I am serving you.

I just dont understand this. God, I have served you and have made every effort to revere you but it just feels like you always want me to be lonely and suffering which is already horrifically bad for my terrible mental health. Do you even care? I know I am supposed to serve you and all but given the fact that I already suffer with my mental health, why do I need to have a lack of social skills, too? That just seems cruel of you. I am trying to trust you but I am beginning to lose my faith in you. I don't feel motivated to live this life anymore.

[starlightkun]

hello! do you perhaps have any tips/advice for those starting their first writing blog?

my tips r mostly gonna b mindset/writing tips rather than like "hacking the tumblr algorithm" type stuff so if that's what ur into then read on:

first up, let's get the few "notes/numbers" tips i can give u out of the way:

from what i can tell, most readers read from the tags rather than their dashboard, so pay attention to what tags people actually use for fics (throwing your tags in the general tags for groups/idols generally isn't as helpful for getting people to actually READ them than putting them in the actual fic tags bc people go into the general tags more for visual content [pictures/gifs] or updates from my experience. when people want to read fic, they go into those fic tags)

this is just a courtesy thing: please tag your stuff correctly! if your fic is, for example, a reader x taeyong fic, only use taeyong, nct, nct 127, or nct u-derivative tags, do not use any other unit (wayv, dream) or any other member tags, even if those other units or members are mentioned or have substantial roles! (a proper love triangle is different, u can include both legs of the love triangle). i assure you, if you spam tag, and put your stuff in places it doesn't belong (god forbid in completely unrelated fandoms or groups), the people who went in those tags looking for content actually about that thing, are just going to be annoyed at best, and pissed off and block u at worst so they don't have to see ur work in their tags ever again. some ppl use the block button very liberally (as is their right. spam tagging fics is annoying as hell)

also, try to keep up with what tags readers are actually going in to read. i've been reading & writing fic for 10+ years now, and have seen the evolution of language in fandom and around fic writing, primarily on tumblr and i've had to uh, keep up with the times to make sure my fics were following wherever the readers were. this shouldn't be hard if you're an active reader yourself but it was something that caught me off-guard when i realized we stopped using "imagine" at some point (dont even get me started on the change from lemon to smut)

post formatting! figure out how you want to format your actual fics on tumblr and stick with it! (trust me....it's exhausting changing ur formatting across dozens of posts.............. but if u rlly hate it after a while just commit and change it lol);; take inspo (dont just copy and paste bc that's tacky) from some of ur favorite writers, figure out what u like to see in a fic (heading text of the title, picture header, indentation, small text, word count, genre tags, content warnings, pairing info, preview, summary, dividers, etc.), and decide what u want to include in urs!

finally for this part: THERE IS NO TUMBLR ALGORITHM. EVERYONE CURATES THEIR OWN DASHBOARD EXPERIENCE AND ITS BEAUTIFUL AND MORE PEOPLE NEED TO PUT IN THE EFFORT TO DO THAT AND FOLLOW THE WRITERS THAT THEY ENJOY READING IN THE TAGS SO THEY CAN KEEP UP WITH THEM AND CONTINUE TO LIKE AND INTERACT AND ACTUALLY GROW AND DEVELOP A CONNECTION AND COMMUNITY

and now my more "mindset/writing" tips:

this is literally in my pinned: i write for fun and for free. i write things that i like, and because i enjoy doing it, and i post them on the internet for free. it is not my job, and coming online should not be stressing me out. and i've been able to keep that up for a year now since my comeback after an unexpected hiatus, and it's honestly been one of my best years of writing as an author.

i think that figuring out a way to write in a way that's sustainable and fun for you is the most important part. people will stick around if you can find that. i've been able to create a community around my works no matter what fandom i was in, for 10 years, and that includes 10 years ago when i was literally like 12, 13, 14 years old writing things that 12, 13, 14 year olds write. and i do think it's because i was always having fun, and interacting with the people who stuck around. and when i stopped having fun, i was done. nct has officially been the longest fandom i've written in, even discounting my year hiatus, which is crazy to think about btw

when you get someone who follows and interacts and is a recurring reader/reblogger/asker/commenter, i'm sure u will already be like '!!!!!' bc that's what my brain does anyway, but make them feel welcome. don't just focus on the tags and the numbers and the notes. what really makes me feel good at the end of the day is seeing the same few people come back and talking to them and knowing that they like my stuff so much they wanna read more. to me, the tags are a means to an end. the tags are a way to hopefully get a few more people like that to find my blog and follow and stick around for more in the future.

small blog org tip: make your blog easy to navigate for people who are checking it out for the first time from finding a fic in the tag or from someone else rbing it or smth! i always link my masterlist at the end of every fic, it's in my pinned and description, and i just try to make it very easy for people to find more fics of mine if they want to :)

i think that compared to other social medias, you'll find that it's slow but steady growth on tumblr (or at least, that's been my experience), but as long as you're writing what you like, it'll make the rocky start feel a little less rocky (i know it sucks when ur not getting any notes. i know. i promise. it's like bringing a cake to a party and nobody eats it. but sometimes u just have to have a piece of ur own cake and go home and bake another one bc u like baking and hope maybe next time everyone will see it)

and just remember that this is your blog! post stuff you like! don't be afraid to let people see the personality of the person posting all these fics that they're reading. most people like knowing that kind of stuff, even outside of stuff like ur bias or fave unit or wtv. i make all my unhinged posts (which, admittedly, have ended up costing me some followers but if u can't handle me at my unhinged perfume jungwoo posts then u don't deserve me at my buzzer beater sungchan) and post pictures of bread and complain abt work or whatever in addition to all my stuff about my wips and then the final fics. i think treating ur blog like an actual blog does a lot to make it feel like there's a real person behind the acct

[agonizedembrace]

Caitlyn is well aware of who the other woman is, of course; but even had Evelynn not carried herself with a look that suggested unending boredom or perhaps even annoyance, she would not have approached her, respectful of her space as much as of her girlfriend's job. Even then, she stays across the street, leaning against Vi's motorcycle while waiting for her to return (hoping that whatever the reason Evelynn's assistant called her there would be no dire issue, when Vi had been so very excited about this job).

Her gaze, inevitably drawn to the other woman, flickers between apologetic for being present at all, to determined as she decides to use her chance to speak up. Maybe more directly than she ought to, addressing a worldwide famous singer, but that mattered little, at the present moment.

"Miss Evelynn — my name is Caitlyn. I'm Vi's girlfriend." The politeness in her tone is that of one raised from birth to adopt proper etiquette. It never wears off completely, no matter how long she's been trying to escape that life now. "Forgive me if I shouldn't be here — we weren't expecting her to be called in at this hour. It's a relief to see you well."

A pause, the tip of her fingers tapping against the motorcycle's seat; the diva's state did raise the question of why her bodyguard was needed, however. Nervousness does not detract from the earnestness shining in her eyes when she continues. "I know it's not truly my business to interfere, but Vi truly appreciates the opportunity you have given her. I hope there hasn't been any dire issue for your assistant to want to see her now?"

(hi han idk i wanted to make them meet 🫡 from @aimedshots ofc)

@aimedshots

In truth, Evelynn had not paid attention to why Robin had called her new bodyguard out at such an hour. Her focus was elsewhere -- to her girlfriend's texts she'd received just an hour ago, and the ever busy emails from the farm.

Disinterest could be seen from a mile away: there's certainly more that she'd like to do than stand outside on a chilly November night. Not that the cold actually makes much of a deference to her, rather an annoyance more than harming her in any way. In a brief glance, she did notice the other woman, yet granted nothing more than what someone might call a 'side eye'.

Part of it is simply her not caring -- none of her business. Long as the woman didn't get in her way ( and really, it wasn't like Evelynn was doing anything currently ), then Eve had no reason to be annoyed by her presence. And along that line: the fact of having a body guard. There's reasoning, Evelynn believes, but she didn't give effort to listen when it came to. Something about making her image look better?

She had already long shrugged the thought away.

The woman-- Caitlyn -- greets her. Polite and proper, a drastic difference from the very bodyguard she's hired. Gradually does she raise a brow, pocketing her cellphone to grant her attention. "Please, if another calls me miss I'm afraid I might lose my mind." Her own tone is light, intending to not come off as terrifying once more. "Evelynn is fine."

Golden hues now drift, from Caitlyn and back to where Vi ( that was her name... right? ) stands, in discussion with another. Her attention returns as the term girlfriend reaches her ears; a reminder of who she's meant to be returning to, and whose night is likely ruined for Caitlyn.

"So you're who she speaks so highly about," under the smoothness of her tone, is a hint of teasing. Her lips curl the slightest as she adjusts her stance, to something more open, before continuing. There's amusement in her gaze, not for the connection of Vi and Caitlyn, but for the mere humane thought that Evelynn could actually be in a harmful situation. "She's a hard worker and doesn't ask many questions, that's all I can ask."

"All is well, I'm sure. Robin tends to worry when it comes to new hires," affection laces her tone now, as she regards her assistant. With a hum, she glances back to Caitlyn. "... I'll be heading home to my own soon. To ruin date night... now that's a crime."

[mellifloraa]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the inbox of the last ten people who reblogged something from you, get to know your mutuals and your followers! (no pressure) :)

AAAAA tysm darlin this made my day!!!! i love getting asks unprompted i'm so excited rn omg ;w; i'll put this under a read more cuz it's long as fuck lmfao

umm okay!!! seeing as how i've been watching a ton of it lately number one is yellowjackets!! i've never seen it before and it's honestly super cool, i really love horror and psychological horror especially, and the body horror is fucking peak so far i love how they're not afraid to show really gross shit and i love it OwO and ofc the blatant gay is always nice too =w=)

number 2 is chloe moriondo!!! i hung the poster i got at her show in november above my bed so every morning i get to wake up and see that i'm both capable of and allowed to go do fun shit for myself!!! on top of her being an incredibly talented performer and musician she means a lot to me and has kinda become the icon of this phase of my mental health recovery and that makes me so happy!!!!

number 3 is cooking!!! i've been trying to make a concerted effort to cook more for my family, and while part of it is a lil scary because i'm still kinda new to it, i'm learning a lot and i feel like i'm practicing for when i'm able to get a place of my own!! meals in seattle were often kinda subsistence only and i didn't have the opportunity to experiment, but now that i have proper ingredients and a stove that i can actually use it's so much fun!!! last night i made this gnocchi dish with crumbled sweet italian sausage and broccoli and swiss chard and a ton of parmesan cheese and it came out so great holy shit, i had leftovers for lunch >w<

number 4 is my dear friend and snugabug companion whose name has been withheld for privacy reasons UwU

and number 5 as a collective ig are my lovely followers who send me asks and write nice things on my posts and in the tags!!!! i know i don't update my tumblr super often and when i do i talk a lot in the tags n shit but it truly makes me so happy to hear from you guys, it makes me feel very connected with lotsa people all around the world!! and as someone who's struggled with maintaining a support network in the past, the fact that you guys choose to follow me and interact with me is such a blessing ;w; i consider you all my friends and i'm super thankful i get to be here with all of you!!! ^w^)

ty darlin you're so sweet, thank you for giving me this opportunity to reflect and be appreciative :3 make sure you're staying hydrated and grab a snack if you haven't recently!!! 💖💖