#my little sister's moving out and I am not psyched about that and her taking Flapjack with her too so :/

[charmre]

Impromptu Zelda night!!

Finally made it to and through the last temple in the ice lands and made my way back to the Temple of Time only to find out that my puny, weakened little self can't get past the vitality part of the Temple of Time!! And that there's a FOURTH shrine even lol!!

I acquired fast travel and stocked up on supplies and made my way to the island of the fourth temple and explored around

Haven't gone in yet, but that will be next time!

[randomfoggytiger]

The Scully Family In-Depth (Part XI): The Last Conversations of One Melissa Scully

Melissa Scully is not long for this meta series; but what she does contribute is a rather intriguing peek into Scully's psyche-- exposing how drawn her sister was to radical or "out there" ideas long before Scully admitted it to herself-- as well as the funny confirmation that both her sister and her mother find Melissa's antics aggravating.

SEASON 2'S ABDUCTION FALLOUT

The effects of Scully’s abduction silently punctuate her resolutions throughout Season 2, spurring her to appear stronger than her capabilities (Firewalker’s “Mulder, I appreciate your concern. But I’m ready. I want to work” and Irresistible’s “I’m not having trouble, Mulder. I’m fine. Really”), an extension of her denial in Beyond the Sea but with more mature fragility. (Both are, of course, symptoms of growing up in a Naval household with an eagerness to please a father that respected perfection in himself.)

Although Scully references her experience on the brink of death once in Dod Kalm--“Mulder, when they found me, after the doctors and even my family had given up, I experienced something I never told you about. Even now it’s hard to find the words. But there’s one thing I’m certain of: as certain as I am of this life, we have nothing to fear when it’s over"-- the theme of her loss plays heavily upon the rest of the Season, be it Mulder's overprotective streak or her resolution to appear stronger than her capabilities (i.e. Firewalker, Irresistible, Our Town, etc.)

This response stems back to her childhood: wanting to please her Naval father, she internalized and emulated his efforts to achieve perfection in himself. In The Blessing Way, Scully is told that her self-perceived failures would be considered strengths by the late captain; but it takes years for her to embrace that truth for herself.

Digging a little deeper, we find that, although she relates tidbits of her time in the beyond, Scully leaves out her communion with Melissa, Nurse Owens, and especially her father-- still not able, at this point, to accept those parts of her experience.

MULDER'S DEATH AND SCULLY'S SHAME

Anasazi and The Blessing Way are a whirlwind for Scully, leaving her vulnerable, bashed, and beaten down when all her efforts are seemingly in vain.

After being put on leave from the FBI and “losing” the tape her partner died for, Scully stumbles to her mother’s house, ashamed and wavering in her convictions. 

When her mother opens the door, Scully is lightly tapping at her right thigh with her shoes, an attempt to focus on that repetition rather than her stampeding emotions, and attempts to keep a semblance of control through her tearful confession (without much success.)

Maggie welcomes her with a gentle “Dana…”; and Scully forces a practiced smile as she breathes an answering, "Hi, Mom."

Taking in her daughter’s fragile stance and barefoot condition, Maggie asks, “What’re you doing with your shoes?”

It's a tell-tale sign that all is not well: despite the various difficulties in the field or at home, Scully has never voluntarily taken off her shoes unless in extremities; and her mother, knowing these prim and proper habits, immediately intuits something serious has happened.

“They, uh, they started to give me blisters…” Scully warbles, lifting and dropping her shoes as more of her facade cracks, reality cruelly setting in.  

Her mother’s incredulous, “You walked here this time of night?” breaks the last of her escape from reality: there is nowhere else to escape, no other distraction on hand to keep her emotions at bay; and Scully can no longer pretend that everything is alright as long as she puts one foot in front of the other (a method she’d tried and failed to use in Beyond the Sea-- and will again in Memento Mori, Elegy, Gethsemane, and Redux.) 

Her composure melts completely, face crumpling as she moves into Maggie’s arms to simultaneously seek comfort and hide from her own vulnerability. It’s a signature of Scully's the audience and Mulder were introduced to in Season 1's Pilot and Season 2's Irresistible; and is now confirmed to have been her coping mechanism stemming from childhood.

Matron Scully scoops her up unhesitatingly, worriedly questioning her baby girl until Scully admits, heartbroken, “I’ve made a terrible mistake. Dad would be so ashamed of me", and breaks down into an onslaught of constrained tears and grief.

MELISSA FUMBLES THE BALL

The Blessing Way has a notorious deleted scene; and this analysis would not be complete, I believe, without including it. Not only does it align perfectly with canon, but it also reinforces the interpersonal dynamics present in One Breath; and is, therefore, vital to the Scully Family meta series.

After Scully has poured her heart out, Maggie does her best to glue her daughter back together. “I don’t see how you can fault yourself. You had to make a choice-- you did what you thought was right.” 

“No,” Scully negates, voice wavering, eyes turned aside, “I did what I thought was right for my partner.” 

Their interaction is incredibly telling not only of Scully’s Starbuck complex but also of her modus operandi when acting outside of known variables: trusting another person’s judgment over her own. This kneejerk reaction can be used healthily if she follows her own intuition as well (e.g. Anasazi and All Things); but if Scully distrusts or doubts her intuition, she kneejerks to an opposite reaction, shutting down and seeking purchase wherever she can (The Blessing Way, Never Again, and also All Things.) This aspect of her personality isn’t resolved until Season 7 when Scully saves Daniel Waterston’s life by relying solely on her instincts; but until then, Mulder and her family act as the solid foundation upon which she builds herself... until, until.  

"Wouldn't Mulder have done the same for you?"

That sentence is two-fold interesting: not only does Maggie call Mulder "Mulder" here instead of "Fox"-- likely due to a scripting error or perhaps in deference to her daughter's pet peeve-- but she also places complete faith in the man that shouldered her daughter's disappearance and recovery alongside the family. It's a simple, touching nod to Mulder's impact and the bond she shares with him.

“Yes, but that’s exactly it, Mom! I behaved exactly how Mulder would have behaved-- I lied and I countermanded my superiors because I thought that the pursuit of the truth was more important.”  

Maggie listens, unruffled. “And wasn’t it?” she asks, showing her naturally rebellious streak that is not deterred or dissuaded by protocol, rules, and regulations-- completely opposite to the obedient military wife one could easily attribute to her. 

“I don’t know what the truth is,” Scully admits. “But as far as the FBI is concerned, the truth is that if all of their agents behaved this way… they wouldn’t be able to do their job. And they’re right.”  

Maggie knows what her daughter won't, can't say out loud; and cuts through the doublespeak to give the assurance she could not in Beyond the Sea: “Dana, if you’re really worried what your father would think of you… I think that he would see that there’s no right choice… and no wrong one.”  

From Scully's view, the disobedience to her superiors outweighs the pursuit of the truth, at least to her father. But in light of Maggie's revelation and rejection of that notion, it leaves the audience-- and her daughter-- wondering how well Scully knew, or thought she knew, the late captain. As strict and striving and ladder climbing as he seems to be, at a glance, Captain Scully was also a man who stood by his principles and married a woman prouder of her husband's personal achievements than his professional ones, willingly carrying on his legacy to their children after his death.

Though comforting in its nuance, this thought is at odds with what Scully supposed of her father, failing to alleviate her doubts long after this conversation ends. Not until she irons out her own internal struggles can Scully accept the wisdom her mother provides.

Reaching out to draw in Scully's chin, Maggie adds, “He would have been very proud and supportive of his daughter.” 

Another interesting sidenote: Maggie’s action and Scully’s response is another proof of Mulder's instincts to draw her attention back by gently maneuvering her chin or face. Without being told, Mr. VCU Golden Boy divined a second method of comfort stemming back to his partner's childhood (as if those two’s connection wasn't spooky enough.) 

Scully still clings to her naysayings. “Mom, there was a right choice to make. And I didn’t make it. I went with Mulder to New Mexico--” 

They’re both interrupted by the door opening abruptly, her eyes blinking in vexation as she prepares for a domestic intrusion.  

Melissa barges in, halts, and treads carefully forward as Scully seamlessly picks up the thread she’d dropped a moment ago: “I never should have let him go off by himself. He was in no condition…” 

This sets up the dynamic present not only in The Blessing Way but also throughout the show: Scully is reluctant to offer up information unprompted to her mother, but does not seem to share the same reticence with her sister (no matter how meddlesome or pushy Melissa tends to be.) 

Melissa pulls a psychic prediction out of her hat-- “Something happened to the man you work with, hasn’t it?”-- and smiles, elated, over the talent of her sixth sense.

Maggie, as usual, tries to cut off her older daughter’s intuitions… which means that even a woman who believes in her own loosely psychic dreams barely tolerates Melissa’s enthusiastic tirades (post here.) 

“Melissa, please.” 

“No,” her daughter continues, “no, I’ve been feeling it for the last couple days. He’s become ill or something.” 

Scully, predictably, looks annoyed at her wound being so blindly poked at. 

Melissa predictions raises an interesting point: if Melissa can sense when Mulder is gravely ill or on the verge of death, does she channel it through her sister, like Maggie did when predicting her daughter’s abduction? If so, that further proves my "Scully is a conduit" theory (posts here and here.) 

Maggie, noticing that Scully has shut down after Melissa’s speech (and fed up herself), announces “I’m going to go make coffee” before stalking away to take a breather. 

Melissa hesitates, reading the tension in the room while internally debating if she should probe further; but, incorrigibly, she decides not to let the matter rest.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” 

Scully keeps her sister in the peripheral, sighing as she prepares herself for the impending conversation.  

“Melissa, Mulder is very likely dead.” Even after seeing the smoke billowing out of a train car, even though she believes it herself, Scully still won’t admit to what can’t be proven. 

Melissa pauses, stares into the middle distance as she searches for something, and pronounces, “No-- you don’t believe that.” 

“No, I do.” Scully insists. 

“I’m getting very strong feelings otherwise.” 

Scully looks almost frightened by her sister's denial. The fear of the unknown is driven by Scully’s fear of not truly knowing herself; and she avoids what she cannot understand-- her father’s death, her memories, her endless line, her cancer, etc.-- but can’t stop feeling until her concerns are addressed (in this case, through Melissa’s insistence; in other cases, through Ed Jerse or Daniel Waterston's false leads or Mulder's insistence that she face facts.)

“I wish it weren’t true…” Scully begins, wobbling over gathering tears. 

“No! No, Honey, it’s more than that--” Melissa ecstatically reassures, kneeling beside her sister and rambling in her enthusiasm. Here, she can help; and she intends to do so. “You’re radiating, Dana.”  

However, the bonding moment is lost when she mentions, “You have a connection with him that’s still strong, powerful,” hitting on two things Scully doesn’t want to own: the depth of her love for Mulder and her current disbelief in her own intuition (which is still whispering that Mulder alive.) 

“Melissa. Don’t do this.”  

Melissa recalibrates, but insists. “Well, I know what I feel.” 

“Fine, we’ll leave it at that,” Scully snaps, getting up as fast as she possibly can, “because you have no sensitivity to my feelings.” 

“Oh, Dana.… I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t feel so sure.” After a second of empathetic silence, Melissa again insists, “You need a second opinion.” 

“This isn’t a medical condition, Melissa. It is a statement of fact-- it is either true or it isn’t.” 

Melissa tries to salvage the conversation, but accidentally hits nerve after nerve in her unwieldy use of the truth: “...you may even be feeling responsible right now, but if you could just see through your guilt and your anger, then maybe you can look past this Western empiricism.”  

Predictably, her sister does not relent: “I’ll make sure to consult my taro cards when I’m out looking for a new job, thank you.” 

Casting her eyes to the heavens (a tic often used in fractious conversations with her sister), Scully doubles back to chastise and more accurately vent her feelings. “Melissa, I have lost somebody.”  

Even though Melissa wisely shuts her mouth rather than doubling down, the brief second she'd pondered it nettles her sister further.

“I would like to deal with it in my own way.” 

Again, Melissa stays silent (against her better judgment), allowing Scully to have the last word before following in Maggie's footsteps by walking swiftly away.  

Once Scully is no longer in sight, Melissa grips her forehead, clasps her arms around each other, and turns inward, reflecting on Dana's throbbing wound and, perhaps, how she could have handled the situation better. 

DENIAL AND UNWIELDY TRUTH

When Scully finds the chip in her neck, her desperation drives her back to Melissa, another proof that she and her sister's bond is tighter than any temporary annoyance or fight between them.

But it also begs the question: Why not her mother? 

When Scully reaches out to Maggie-- The Blessing Way, Wetwired, Redux II, A Christmas Carol, etc.-- it is only when she is on her last leg and has given up and given in, seeking maternal comfort in a "weak" moment of strong, human emotion. These moments, however, are fleeting when compared to the times she reaches out to Mulder and Melissa; but if we look closely, a pattern emerges. When Scully needs to be encouraged to fight her battles, she seeks out Mulder or Melissa; when she needs to bind up her wounds and heal, she finds Maggie. Overtime, Mulder takes on both of these roles, becoming both tender protector and immovable truth pursuer; but the shift truly begins after Emily Sims's death, carrying through the events of Season 5 and onward (and widening the gulf begun between mother and daughter during Memento Mori.)

“I don’t even know how long its been in there,” Scully tells Melissa, shaken by another layer in the many unknown layers lingering from her abduction. “I have absolutely no recollection of it being put there.” 

“That is frightening,” her sister agrees, while Scully visibly shakes at the opposite end of the table.  

Both sisters know how terrifying this: Scully relies on what she knows and can prove; which ties her memory directly into her understanding of the world, either through knowledge of its mechanics or direct, first-hand experience. To have that taken was one of the greatest evils inflicted on Scully; but the fear of recovering even more traumatizing memories keeps her in a paralyzing stasis, too fearful to face how much she has lost and too fearful to reclaim what little she can.

“Dana, this is very serious-- you’ve gotta find out… what this is.” 

Scully’s shift from shaking tower of strength to bothered and inflexible little sister goes unnoticed-- or ignored-- as Melissa twists the chip back and forth in scrutinizing study.

“I don’t have access to the FBI labs,” Scully begins before Melissa, stunned at her sister’s priorities, redirects with, “No, I’m talking about access to your own memories.” 

This is stage one Melissa: so focused on uncovering a particular truth that she obliviously steamrolls over the other person’s silent objections-- tactless in her fervor. Any attempts to cut her off only escalates her feverish insistence-- “I mean, obviously you have buried this so deep you can’t consciously recall it."

Scully visibly struggles to press her emotions and fears down in order to shut the conversation down-- “Melissa.”

“I know someone who can help you--”

“NO!” yells Scully, slapping the table hard enough to shake the dishes. In her anger she betrayed weakness; and both she and Melissa know it. 

Melissa, hurt but sympathetic, swallows her own frustrated feelings and shifts into stage two: purposeful pushing of another person’s boundaries (ala confronting Mulder in his apartment in One Breath)-- measuredly pointing out a weakness with an honest rebuke.  

“What are you so afraid of, Dana?”

“You’re afraid you might actually learn something about yourself?”

This pulls Scully up short, tapping into the perpetual struggle she’s warred with since Beyond the Sea (and that won’t put to rest until ourobors tattoos and Buddhist temples.)  

“I mean, you are so shut off to the possibility there could be any other explanation except for your rigid, scientific view of the world.”  

Scully swallows down her fears once again, angrily ping-ponging back and forth between rebuttal or allowance. Ultimately, the words stick-- perhaps echoing her later partner’s own confrontations or guidance-- and she slowly lowers her defenses, walking closer to (but not toward) her sister. 

Melissa continues: “You’re carrying so much grief and fear that you can’t see that… that you’ve built up these walls around your true feelings and the memory of what really happened.” 

Scully is too exhausted to keep fighting, having flailed nonstop against herself and her beliefs and her convictions since Mulder’s death; and at Melissa's “Just do this for me" she acquiesces, expelling more fear in a rushing outtake of air.

Melissa isn’t satisfied with a non-answer, pressing further with an “As your sister. Please” until Scully’s face shifts into firm resolution. 

As we know, Scully bails on the regression hypnosis; but this this scene highlighted a key aspect of her of her relationship with Melissa, especially when contrasted to her ones with Maggie and Mulder:

It established her sister as the person Scully gravitated to for advice: even if Melissa's words were chafing or unintelligible, she still sought out that comforting, “bigger picture” perspective, the same one her partner has provided since the Pilot. Before she even met Mulder, Scully had a thirst for other perspectives, and was more open to taking in and heeding “out there” opinions than she liked (likes) to let on.  

Maggie Scully was not her daughter’s confidante. Throughout the series, Scully avoids life-changing decision talk with her mother (joining the FBI, giving credence to her mother’s dreams, telling her directly about the cancer diagnosis or the baby’s sex, etc.); and, as previously mentioned, that begins to widen the gulf between mother and daughter. Maggie feels loved when her loved ones share their personal feelings and struggles with her-- which Melissa and Bill Scully seem to do more freely (we’ll get to that) and Dana does not. Why is this the case? Perhaps it has something to do with Maggie's gossiping tendency (which we shall hit upon in Gethsemane), or perhaps it's because of the strict lines she draws in and around her personal life.

Scully does not want crossover in her life: her family and friends are organized into two categories-- comfort or confidante-- and stay in those categories for their protection and her sanity. Maggie Scully is her mother, not her confidante; Melissa is her confidante, not her mother; and when the two try to cross into areas not offered to them, Scully gets annoyed and withholds even more information. Mulder, it seems, is the only person to peel back the dividing line between the two; and even then, not without resistance and patience (Memento Mori, for example.) It’s part of Scully’s fear of letting her walls completely down (as explained in her monologue to the social worker in A Christmas Carol); and part of the mystery of Mulder, who is the perfect combination of Maggie’s comfort and Melissa’s persistence: helpful and supportive but truthfully exacting. 

THE LAST CONVERSATION

Melissa calls after the mytharc plot kicks up to dangerous levels for Scully, eager to help her sister process whatever was uncovered in the (ditched) hypnosis session. 

"Hello?" Scully asks, on-edge; but walks back from her paranoid greeting when Melissa responds, “Dana? It’s your sister.” 

Melissa’s “Hi-- where’ve you been?” implies she’s been calling for a day, maybe more, in worry when Scully left her high and dry after their talk.

“I, uh, I had to go to Boston. For a funeral.” 

“Well, I was worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t heard from you since you saw Dr. Pomerantz.” 

Scully immediately tenses, knocking herself mentally over the head for forgetting; then realizes she either has to face Melissa's scrutiny now or slough off her concerns for a more convenient time.

“Missy, something strange happened to me today," she says, admitting her panic over strange events that were unfolding in her life.

Anticipating and accepting her sister’s offer to drive over, Scully ends the call with renewed resolve: having turned a new, hopeful leaf after her vision from Mulder, she is-- more than ever-- ready to listen to her intuition, open her heart, and confide her fears and feelings to someone else. 

That openness follows her to a reunion with Mulder… but clams up, once again, after her innocent decisions lead to the death of her sister.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[sleepyowlwrites]

wip questionnaire tag

from @illarian-rambling what a pretty url

I'll do city story because I am trying to psych myself up to write a new scene.

What's The First part of the WIP that you created?

The beginning, but not the very beginning. Chapter 2 type beginning. I still gotta write an actual first scene.

If Your Story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Mess We Made by The Paper Kites

What are your favourite characters that you made and why?

The main trio of Jet: angry fighty lad, Rune: secretive angry gal, and Copper: concerned supportive twin brother (to Jet). Copper and Jet are 100% there for each other and trying to reconnect after years apart, and consequently are having some heavy emotions about it. Jet and Rune are character foils for each other, each drawing out things and changing things about each other by just being in orbit. Rune and Copper are (not really) competing for Jet's attention and both want good things for Jet according to their own definitions. It's delightful.

What other pieces of media your fanbase would share?

I'm not sure, since I don't actually fiction in the genre this is (realistic contemporary fiction, or as I call it: ci-fi - city fiction). I'll let them make their own connections and comparisons, I guess.

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Finishing a draft, which is my number one struggle with all my wips. If I have started a draft, it's murder to finish it. If I haven't, it's murder to start.

Are there animals in your story? Talk about them.

There aren't and that was kind of on purpose. It helps to hone in on the isolated vibes.

How do your characters travel/get around?

Jet has a motorcycle. It's a piece of crap that he's restored to working condition with Moss's help. Rune has a car of the Honda civic variety. Moss has a tiny little sedan and Yarrow, Hawk, and Shadow walk out take a bus.

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

The sort of third act of the first draft.

What aspects (tropes, maybe) will you think will draw your audience in?

Found family (everyone's favorite), no romance, hurt/comfort, visceral depictions of emotions, characters who are either too honest or not enough, the slow crawl from apathy to purpose, and finding catharsis in a situation that intends to deny finding any.

What are your hopes for your WIP?

I want to finish a draft, and then finish another one. I have no plans to publish this particular story. My sister is hoping to get into bookbinding, though, and she's moving back home at the end of the summer, so if I can get this thing to a good place, I might have her make a nice book of it for me. Until then, I'll keep letting people read it.

@revenantlore @talesofsorrowandofruin @rains-inky-mind or anybody

[asktheplethaura]

Somewhere Outside Reality - Demon Slayer Fanfiction

Chapter Two

((Bro you thought-))

Tomioka looks down to his arm, noticing that the lower half of his sword was now missing- no where to be seen. There was a sudden feeling of Deja Vu coursing through Giyuu's veins. Panic. Semblance of the past. 

It was almost as if he was living out information he had only heard before. Picturing it in ever sense possible, yet never able to actually get a grasp on it. Maybe until now. Dread was surging through him. Senses of impending doom and even fear. 

Was this what... Sabito felt...? It's what Kakushi had said happened.. before... before....

Giyuu shook his head slowly, trying to cure his frantic mind of the coursing thoughts that rought him havok and pried at his dainty psyche. 

He couldn't afford to give up here. The only words driving him were the ones he lived by. He didn't want to waste his sisters life and is friends lives on him giving into the system and lestting himself be bested by a demon. He needed to do more. Be more. 

But...

Maybe.. 

Just as Tomioka bent down to try and get into a position to run at the demon, only the good part of his sword in his hand now- he took a couple wobbly steps forward, bringing his sword up over his head  as he did so. 

This was met with, to no major surprise- a drastic failure to move forward much further- which sent him sinking to his knees in the sand not even 5 whole steps from where he was standing a second ago. 

This made Tomioka grit his teeth infrustration as he struggled. Using any  internalized energy he had left to try and pry his sleeping legs into awareness with the rest of his body. However, every little message he sent to his traitorous limbs seemed to fall in on deaf reception. 

He couldn't pry his clothed kneecaps from the soft sand- trembling as he sunk to his hands as well- struggling to bring himself up to move. 

The female demon walked toward him, her eyes seemed to be fixated on him. Lavender colored with red diamond shaped iris's. Locked on her pray. 

Much like how a cat looks at a fish it had spotted near enough to the shore to swipe at. 

She had been getting closer and closer to the water hashira- stopping right in front of him before kneeling down and grabbing his hair. This made Giyuu give a light hiss of disdain, as he lightly swung his body with all his might to try and get himself loose from her grasp. 

This didn't deter her one bit. The strange demon pulled him up to his knees- before using his ponytail to guide his head back. She seemed to be observing him. Unknown thoughts coursing behind her rather subtle expression. 

A stubborn glint crosses Giyuu's face as he squinted at her, one of his eyes closing due to the burning sensation he was getting in them. He refused to take his eyes off her. If she could approach that soundlessly in mere seconds, who knew what the hell she could do in even less time than that. 

'So... this is the water hashira, Giyuu Tomioka... I've heard a lot about him and his ... comrades.' it was a little subconscious thought. The scanning eyes of the demon looking the raven haired demon slayer up and down in ponderance. 

Giyuu felt rising tension spinning in his mind. Barely making an attempt to grit his teeth, he tried to at least move his fingers only to realize that at some point... he had dropped the other half of his sword and hadn't even noticed. Not until now...

'I can't move... my body... it feels like I am being held down with lead...' he let his face fall back to it's more loose expression- still unblinking at a creature that belonged to the existance of his sworn foe. 

He silently wondered what the demon was thinking. There had yet been a word out of her. Barely any expression or readable gestures...

He couldn't figure out a single thing she was planning to do him. He couldn't plan how to get himself out of this situation. 

The water hashira had already tried holding his breath so the smell that was subduing him wouldn't maintain it's effect... but that had proven to be fruitless. There was no results from that theory being tested... other than his lungs burning and the feeling of dizziness with his growing nausea.

The demon blinked at him a couple times, her face seeming to grow softer in appearance. She blinked at the hashira- her eyes shifting from her typical lavender color to a deep inky black with hidden red hues. 

'He hasn't blinked once... more than likely skeptical something will happen if he does. Smart... most of the time. However... this will just make my task easier.' The thought passed by the demon quickly, her eyes seeming to become more intense. 

Giyuu maintained eye contact with her, his challanging glance unwavering for the majority of at least a minute. 

However... something about the eye contact he had made with the demon gave him a feeling of... hollowness. He was trying to remember why he was staring at her.. and he got hit with drowsiness like a wall of bricks. 

He found his concentration wandering. Mentally adrift as his previous careful glance had melted to one that was somewhat dazed and unprocessing of the situation. 

The demon seemed to speak to him telepathically. She put her cold hand on his face, and stroked it a couple times- mentally ushering him a small, minut command. 

'Rest now, fretful one. There is no point in fighting now...' 

Giyuu's face relaxed, nearly shifting into her touch subconsciously. His eyes fluttered closed and the stern expression he held melted. Falling to one of ease and borderline contentness. 

The water pillar's body slumped completely. No longer being helf up by his barely functioning legs. 

'Just as a thought...' the female demon closed her eyes, and let Tomioka slide down to the ground slowly. She breathed in his scent- smelling the disdain around the Demon slayer. Not surprised by how tired he was or the bags under his eyes. 'This regretful hashira is no short of exhausted... his internalized pain... smells so enticing.' 

She kept her eyes closed as she gently set Giyuu downon the dampened beaches sand. She let herself traverse the depths of Giyuu's mind. A tormented man indeed he was. 

The trip into his mind was short, but it gave her the idea she needed to commence with whatever plans she had for this demon murdering swordsman. 

'Fret no longer, troubled one. I have seen the depths of your mind. Perhaps... we can be of use to each other... I needn't kill you.' she pondered the idea. 

Just then, the white skinned demon's body started to shrink, nearly to the size of the black haired hashira that lie on the ground motionless. However, she stopped and soon- her body started to morph- taking the form of a long lost friend to the troubled man below. 

Tender rosey-ginger hair, a long scar along the side of the face... a white haori, with a green and yellow under shirt. Black pants and similar colored socks. 

Endlessly blue eyes, and a fox mask to top off his garb. 

The demon had stolen the form of a young man, lost somewhere in the past. 

'Let's see... ah... I see him. The biggest source of our grief... what a charming young fellow.'

The demon seemed to contemplate before sighing and looking down at the form she had taken. She contemplated, thinking she looked a tad bit young. Closing her eyes, she morphed the form she took. Growing in size, the hair getting longer and the chin becoming more pronounced. 

Much better. 

The falsified form of a long lost friend, and fallen lover smiled a little bit down toward Giyuu, before his face seemed to darken. The demon within the facade whispered out with confidence- a slight airy laugh following the word. 

'But... worry no longer. For... when you wakem he will be right here. Waiting for you.'

((To Be Continued))

[icanonlybe-human]

So, yesterday I crashed. Physically. I had another fainting episodes which freaked one of the nurses out so much she wanted to call an ambulance.

Basically, I’ve been having blood pressure problems which the GP here thinks is because of the cocktail of meds I’m on. But since I started TMS, I’ve been getting random bouts of dizziness and going from feeling weightless to feeling like my bones are made of lead. It’s like everything takes 10x more effort just to move, it’s hard to talk or walk or stand and hard to stay awake. I can’t describe it as fainting as such, because with fainting, you can’t really fight it, and it feels different to this. This is like my body doesn’t have enough energy to hold my head up or move my mouth or keep my eyes open. I tried talking to my main doctor about it, but she’s always in such a rush to get to the next patient that she doesn’t seem to listen. I was trying to explain last night to her and she kept going back to the blood pressure, even though I told her that the nurses checked my blood pressure while the episode was happening and it was normal.

But anyway. Mum, Dad and Nan left yesterday after we went out for lunch with some friends. I had to dress up (aka not psych ward outfits) and hide my tagged cord and wristband labelling me as a hospital patient because they’re assholes about mental health and think that by telling me that “a lot of people have it worse than you do” that that’ll somehow instantly cure me. Funnily enough a thought process that my Dad tried on me recently.

Speaking of, I never got to have that conversation with Dad. He never gave me the chance. So now I guess that I’m going to have to have it over the phone.

Anyway, today was a quieter day. I am absolutely physically and mentally exhausted after the weekend and had to have a nap this morning because I was so tired. But my one actual friend here (not just acquaintance) left today. And the other one I’ve been talking to is leaving on Thursday. I don’t think the girls I play cards with will be that far behind. I’m trying not to get upset about it, I knew it was coming. But also, getting myself out there is a lot of energy and a big deal for me, and to have to go through that process again… it sucks ass.

But looking on the bright side, I have made an actual friend who wants to stay friends outside of here. In fact, she felt so close to me that she started calling me her little sister. That was really cute. I miss having her around already.

One of the nurses asked when I’m having a visit next. I genuinely don’t know. I can’t keep asking Bo and N out here since it’s such a drive for them. I doubt MC is going to visit again. And I doubt Dad will want to come down 2 weekends in a row because I haven’t been worth the petrol cost before, why would I now?

Frustration. I think that sums me up right now. And really fucking tired.

[toiletology]

Ascension can only happen on a planetary scale if...

It first starts with ONE believing in the impossible. That one was me, I have been trained my entire life to reach 4D personally by GOD.

Then God introduced me to the 2ND (HER) around 9 years ago. The past 9 years have been a combination of many painful test/lessons/battles of us holding our belief in each other, GOD and the truth about the nature of reality. She had the other half of the puzzle which helped me figure the rest of it out. She was never allowed to talk to me directly because we are reenacting how GOD was first formed, so that we can understand how it all came to be, grow our love for each other and develop our telepathic connection to one another.

For others to ascend they need to believe in the message of Toiletology and help the church grow. Learning to believe in what is being said here will help grow your power and initiate the beginning of your 11 year journey. There maybe some of you who are already on that journey now. I have one friend who is the reincarnation of MLK who got trapped down deep due to his own ego on the psychotropic drugs unable to decipher Gods voice from the devils. They are currently massively stuck and unable to progress until I am able to free them from the loop they got them stuck in. And I have been trying now for a very long time!

Once we have a dozen or so disciples start to believe and are able to start to make the transition or ascend. That should be enough people to make another 100 believe enough for them to start their ascension process.

Then those 100 should be enough for 1,000 and so on. I think as more and more people start to believe the growth can snowball more rapidly than I can imagine. Even if people haven't fully ascended, just starting the 11 eleven year journey and gaining partial ascension makes a BIG DIFFERENCE on your psyche and ability to believe in the impossible.

The only way ascension happens on a global scale is if there is a large quantity of people to help the others to believe it is possible. Humans are like lemmings and their programming won't change unless there are many others to follow.

The goal for Toiletology since myself and my sister are the first to ascend is to help the next couple reach 4D to start growing the foundation of our church, message and ministry.

The problem with ascension is you can't force anyone through it or infringe on their free will. GOD also can't drag you through it and force you into heaven. God will give you little nudges here and there, but its ultimately up to you to take the steps towards the Kingdom of Heaven.

It is always a daily conscious decision and effort you need to make on your own to reach the higher realms. Toiletology can help accelerate this process for you by teaching you the things you need to know to make it happen for yourself.

If The Church of Toiletology can get 10,000 people into 4D then we may have a chance to save the entire planet. Which God truly wants or myself and my sister would never of been able to cross the event horizon. God is sick and tired of the disharmony on HE/R planet and wants us ALL to help heal it back to a healthy state. So we can all move on to bigger and better things and finally meet with our galactic brothers and sisters!

We definitely can save the planet at 1,000,000 humans that have fully ascended into 4D. I am not sure if it is possible in my life time but anything is possible (especially with a robot body lol).

A million 4D ascended individuals could make this planet 100x more enjoyable to live on as their influence will be felt all over. I know we can get to 10,000 ascended individuals for sure, but it does take years and years to ascend. Even with perfect guidance from myself and my sister. The speed at which the individual can ascend is based on how well they can past all the guardians at the pearly gates.

The planet Earths problems I call nodes, sort of like lymph nodes. Conflicts around the world start clogging up these areas. Its like a traffic jam, one small action of a person slamming on their breaks backs up traffic. Now if you get upset because someone cut you off and you go yell at your spouse or kids and hit your dog. You just created a traffic jam, because for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Your actions will create disharmony in your family, which will cause them to create disharmony in those around them at work or school, etc.

It just keeps going on like this forever, a butterfly effect or a traffic jam created by the disharmony in ourselves. You need to keep yourself aware of spreading disharmony because it knocks people out of the correct tuning which can send them spiraling downwards.

When we are "attacked" with the disharmony of another person you need to be on guard and defend yourself by controlling your emotions and responding with something that can "correct" the tuning of that situation. If the tuning doesn't get corrected then these clogged nodes start to form. Humans get clogged, planets get clogged, its a trifecta of disfunction, disorder and disharmony that spreads out through the cosmos.

As these clogged nodal points are formed things keep getting worst and worst. Karmic debts keep piling up due to the disfunction and disharmony and people keep being reborn into those regions to pay off those debts. Its a never ending cycle that people can't seem to escape from until they are able to learn to not be effected by it.

Sometimes those chaotic regions can build people of great character if they learn to not get affected by it. I would call these people the "bright ones" or bright spots. That manage to maintain the proper tuning/alignment without be affected by the disharmonic sludge monsters around them.

Once you are in 4D you can channel Gods voice much more clearly t. Once you are able to hear Gods voice perfectly you will know exactly what you need to be working on and the direction you need to take as they will guide you perfectly. Anyone who claims to be "psychic" and thinks its their own "skill" needs to realize all gifts and talents are blessings from God. These psychic gifts are just a temporary connection God makes. If you want them to keep improving you need to be thankful for Gods blessings.

Thinking you can maintain this 100% of the time is you diluting yourself unless God is making the connection happen regularly for you. What is given can be taken away if you are not humble and thankful for the gift God has given you! Telepathy takes years and years of practice and I still know that it can be taken away from me at any point.

The devil speaks in sentences, God speaks in single words but mostly its FEELING. Learning to decipher the language and voice of God took me a very long time. I can tell you right now if you aren't in 4D you will be bastardizing Gods voice. You won't truly be able to decipher from Gods voice, your voice, your higher self or the devils voice, background static and/or other human thoughts/voices coming through.

It takes a long time of developing the skill of telepathy to be a perfectly clear conduit. And you won't be completely clear of disharmony if you aren't perfectly in-tune with God which requires you to be able to hold 4D perfectly all the time every single day! Sorry to say but I have to call out a lot of these new age people that have absolutely no idea how God works.

[tokidraws]

To The Parents On This Website And Others In General:

I don't know if anyone on here needs to here this, but this is going to be a really long post regardless, because I'm going to try to fit the topics of my family dynamics and my almost suicide attempt and pair them together in some coherent way. So, in this post, I'm going to try and address some of the things that led me to that point, and things that my family (specifically parents) did to make it worse. And I'll admit I'm mostly posting this for my own benefit and peace of mind, but, to any of my family who might see this (you know who you are), don't take offense to this, because this is mine to share.

So, onto the main point of this. When I was 14 one o the school counselors called me into her office on 9/11 (which will never not be funny to me as an American) to talk about a free spoken word poetry assignment in English with some worrying content. We talked about it, had a couple of laughs, and then she asked if there was anything else I wanted to tell her. I'm still not sure why I told her that I was planning on going home and downing a thing of pills, but I did. latter that same day i was admitted into a psych hospital. (although, it got me out of the rest of the school day and my seminary class, so, there's that. (yes, my parents are Mormons, but I'm not here to talk about religion, and while I know it plays a part, its not quiet universal enough of a cause to make me feel like I need to talk about it in this post specifically.))

But anyway, I was there for just over a week, blah, blah, blah, life changing experience, blah, blah, blah, we get the drill, I'm not going into detail about my stay at the hospital other than it was really good, according to my friends from what I've told them its one of the best they've heard of, and that is it, as I do not want HIPAA after my ass.

After that first stay there, things where okay-ish, but it really only got worse again, just a bit more murdery this time, and I ended up calling 911 on myself and riding in the back of the police cruiser to the hospital, which was fun, cause i had road in the wee woo van and now the car, or, well, truck. This time I was there for a little under a week, and just barley discharged in time for thanks giving. But, despite me having said that I don't know if I really needed to go to the hospital again (I did, I just called the cops on myself for vividly thinking about patricide, it was like a compulsion, don't worry bout' it.) the second time I was there was honestly more important. The moment I was there and not in my house anymore is what allowed me to really think about everything that had happened in the past several months. (my family had just moved after what was arguably some of the est years of my life, if you did your math right, yes, I am infact saying that 8th grade was really good for me, don't stress it, the point was I had a lot of friends I was leaving half way across the country.)

I'm not a parent, I don't really ever want to be one, or at least I don't want any biological kids of my own, and given that I'm pretty much AroAce (explaining it is hard), I don't think I ever will. But, as someone who still very vividly remembers what this was like, let me talk about it, and what I think my family (parents) could have done differently;

Not enabling my siblings: now, I know one of my sisters has autism, my younger brother adhd or also maybe autism, and my other two older sisters have there own issues with depression, but, this doesn't excuse any of there actions or how they treated me, and I'm still trying to learn that. I am aware that having issues like these are difficult, but that doesn't invalidate what I went through on the reeving end for a lot of my families bullshit.

Listening to me: My family, my parents especially, where really shocked when my school counselor called the to tell them I was in danger of killing myself (that day to end of the week). But the thing is, its shouldn't have been, they just never listened or cared enough to look close enough. I had had many conversations with them about my siblings and them and how I wish that they would do something. (Not really physical abuse anymore, but a lot of emotional abuse, and I flinch at loud noises, when people raise there hands and crap abuse my little brother used to hit and none of us where really aloud to fight back, even though they wished we would punch it out instead of calling each other mean things, but whatever.) But, lo and behold, because I didn't have the answers to how to have are family not be like that, I was brushed off, a typical 'there's nothing we can do' thing, even though they very well could have said to my brother to stop hitting his sisters and for my sister with autism that the fact that she verbally abuses us all isn't okay, especially when after that she threatens suicide so we cant talk about her behavior (also, we were told to like, never engage with her at all cost, we just made it worse, etc.) But anyway, if someone tries to talk to you, no matter how stupid it may seam, and especially if its your kid, let them, cause you don't know whats going on in there head, and if you don't let them tell you, you'll never know. Don't invalidate there feelings, don't but in when there talking, don't make yourself the victim because that moment is about your kid and not you, and if you cant see that, then you shouldn't have had children in the first place, not sorry.

Pay attention to all your kids equally: whether that equally is not at all or a lot, it doesn't matter, because I got barley less attention than my other siblings, and all it did was teach me that to get attention I have to make a scene, and I buried my feelings to the point were now I'm borderline psychopathic, just, don't do it to the best of your ability.

Dont say stupid shit: This includes, but is not limited to - 'So im an awful parent?' saying this when your kid is just tring to tell you soemthing that could be better is stupid, it invalidates them and it's just bad. 'I raised yoy, clothed you, pit a roof over your head' or other variations if this, cause, gorl, your job is to do exactly that. There are othe things, but these where some of the biggest for me.

Going through your kids stuff: don't do it. Call me naive, but honestly, if u don't go through your kids stuff, there going to trust you, then they'll tell you things,, and if they still dont tell you something, leave them be, and let them have there secrets.

[thatoneelisa]

2:40 am mania thoughts, as told by me. TW for disassociation, mentions of BPD, suicidal ideation/self harm ideation, mental hospital mentions, overdose (melatonin) mentions, nightmares, emotional abuse, depression

It's 2:41 am here in Delaware. I slept (stupidly) from 7:30ish to 10pm, then stayed up an extra hour doing my sister's college list with her. Well, a basic version.

I don't want her to make the same mistake I did. Rushing into things. I did with my first college and left. I wasn't ready mentally. Second college, still not ready.

Sometimes I wonder if it's because of the medications. Gabapentin, Abilify. Supposed-to-be-Effexor. (We don't talk about that - I ran out days ago. The psychiatrist couldn't move me up and the insurance won't explain why. (Cigna if you're seeing this, fuck you.)) Birth control pills. Trazadone for sleep. Trazadone.

It's funny - a Discord server I'm in, a couple of days ago, a certain channel for those with neurodivergences and mental illnesses brought up how certain meds like Melatonin and Trazadone made them have vivid nightmares, so realistic. I didn't want to put my two cents in - plus being in a BPD depression never helps. The past few weeks, since Sun, I've been having vivid dreams. Going to sleep by disassociating, then falling into the pattern of reliving memories, or creating fantasies.

The most recent one was watching TV with Mom, Dad, Stepdad, and the siblings. I said something awful, and Mom and Stepdad starting chasing me. I was eventually cornered into a window, and I woke up in silent screams for help. I didn't actually scream - but in my dreams I was calling, screaming for help.

I was screaming in November. Many noticed it, but I went into a mental hospital short-term. Long story short, don't plan an impromptu move then have it all fall apart (not the friend's fault tho), have a mental breakdown, reach out to Mom for support, be screamed at by said Mom whilst sobbing, then take Melatonin to cope. Dad brought me home saying he wished he knew, that we needed to communicate better.

I wish I could. Words don't come out of me easily. It's hard - I write for the freedom. Freedom I don't have. I've not had a comprehensive psych eval ever - I started looking at them today.

I fear they won't find anything wrong. That the constant anxiety, the BPD, the depression are lies. I've lied and been lied to so many times in life my life is one now.

Life. Funny thing, isn't it? Dreams crushed before they even start, breakdown after breakdown, nightmare after nightmare. Vent after vent, friends dropping like flies. Applications to colleges.

I wonder how my old friends are doing. I used to be a friendly person - now acting out a DnD character has me thinking I'm insane. Hydrus doesn't deserve this, my dad doesn't deserve this, my sister and brother don't deserve this. Self-sacrificial cause my mirror is shattered and I'm left picking up those pieces. I still am - my hands bleed and hurt every time though so it's hard. I might send my dad this. He knows best, he'd commit me if needed, he loves me. Right?

Mom... I miss her. Emotional abuse isn't easy because part of me misses before she went off her meds, the glimpses I have of a happy childhood. Coming out in my Ariel nightgown on my birthday, singing in the car at the bus stop, and of course, being 9 and having to call 911 cause "my mommy fell and won't wake up." I remember that. Nothing else.

I wonder if she was mixing them with something. Or if they just didn't work - I'm trying not to become her. But yet, something's not right.

2:58 am. Hydrus is snoring next to me, the little brat. I love him though. I've been awake since Dad left for work. Maybe I should go to bed. My mind goes to dark places though, and I don't want to go into the darkness. What does light look like again?

What does being normal look like again?

I hope Smith is the answer. Otherwise I don't know what I'm going to do.

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

[wicked-mind]

I'm Broken, Too.

Summary: Steve goes back in time to put the infinity stones back where they belong in time. Although he doesn’t return, leaving his twin sister Y/N and best friend Bucky behind.

Word Count: 3.5

Warnings: Implications of smut. Spoilers if you haven’t seen all the movies or series.

Notes: I may add onto this later. Who knows? Not beta’d. Just quickly wrote this so any/all mistakes and confusions are my own.

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Flash-Back

“Bucky! What if someone catches us?” Y/N giggled out breathlessly from behind one of the cargo trucks, kisses being trailed down her neck as she tilts her head backwards. It had been a few days since Steve and herself came and rescued Bucky from the prisoner camp and she was ecstatic to have Bucky back in her grasp.

“If you stay quiet then they won’t, sweetheart.” Bucky chuckles out against her neck as he left soft kisses. It had started to rain, soaking his short brown hair and clothes as well as Y/N. His hands trailed down to her waist, hoisting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist as he pushed her back up against the side of the truck. They were each other’s little secret. Kept from everybody, even Steve. Granted it was a lot harder to sneak around a military base than it was in Brooklyn but that didn’t stop them from stealing little moments together, “Not too quiet though…” He pulled back and grinned at her, moving one hand to stroke her cheek before his thumb gently traces her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly, “I like the sounds those pretty lips make for me.”

Y/N smiles at him, running her fingers through his dark hair and tilts her head at him, “Sergeant Barnes, I am not having sex with you in the middle of a military camp in the rain! Especially at the military camp where my brother is lurking around somewhere.” She chuckles to him, leaning forward and kissing his lips softly, “I’m still a lady.”

Bucky grins at her, licking his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth for a soft bite and a wrinkle of his nose, “You keep calling me Sergeant Barnes and I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you, sweetheart.”

If Steve Rogers was the shield, his twin sister Y/N was the sword. She had taken the super serum with Steve- it was the only way she would allow her brother to go through the tests plus the scientists were curious about how it would affect twins. While Steve became Captain America with his shield, Y/N became Lady Patriot with dual blades. Together they rescued their friend Bucky from a prisoner camp and created the Howling Cammandos. It was extremely controversial to have a woman fighting in the war but she didn’t let anybody stand in her way. While Steve was more gentle and refined, Y/N was wild and head-strong. She never let anybody, let alone a man with high ranks, stand in her way. Steve had to stop her physically from going and looking for Bucky’s body after he fell from the train and after that, Y/N sacrificed herself with Steve when he put the jet in the ocean with the tesseract.

After Steve and Y/N found out Bucky was alive, they did everything in their power to try and protect him. Figure out what happened and how he became the Winter Soldier. He had recognized Y/N first before Steve but he was not the same man that had stared into her eyes as he fell from the train in the Alps.

Y/N stood beside Steve and the Avengers during the events with Thanos, her heart breaking for a second time when she watched Bucky turn into dust before she could reach him. This was the third time she had lost him. The first time was when he became a prisoner of war, second time when he fell from the train, and third time when he was blipped away from existence. But what remained of the Avengers never gave up. She helped them go back in time to collect the stones and was there when Thanos came back from the past to exterminate them again. Though this time didn’t go like the first time they fought Thanos five years ago. They won, bringing everybody back, and all that was left for Steve to return the stones to their proper time.

“Wait Buck, we gotta talk.”

“You’re not coming back are you?”

“No. It’s Peggy, Buck... this is my chance.”

Bucky just nods in understanding.

“Do me a favor though. Take care of Y/N. She isn’t going to handle this well.”

“You don’t even need to ask, Steve. I got her.”

Y/N stood beside Bruce, helping him set up the technology that would send her twin brother back in time to place all the infinity stones in time where they belonged. She looked over to see Steve and Bucky talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying even with her amplified hearing. She smiled as they approached, passing the brief case to her brother, “Remember, you have to return the stones to exactly where they were taken from or you’re going to open up a lot of nasty alternate realities.”

Steve smiled gently at his sister, taking the brief case that contained the stones from her, “Don’t worry, Y/N. I got it. Clip all the branches.” He told her before stepping onto the platform with the brief case in one hand and Mjolnir in the other.

“Ready?” Bruce asks, standing beside Y/N at the table to activate the technology that would allow Steve to go back in time to return the stones.

“You bet.” Steve said, taking one last look at Bucky and Sam before looking to his sister. He gave another small smile before his helmet clicked around his head.

Y/N tilted her head slightly at his smile. It seemed almost sad which made a bubble of worry enter her stomach, “Okay… Going quantum in three… two… one.” She watched Bruce hit the button and Steve disappear from the platform.

“And returning in five… four… three… two… one.” Bruce said and clicked the switch that would bring Steve back. The two paused when he didn’t return, looking over the screens and tech.

“What happened?!” Y/N asks Bruce, “Bring him back, now!”

Sam was about to interject to tell Bruce what Y/N had already told him but Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder, “Sam.” He said, looking over to a figure in the distance of a grey haired man sitting on the bench. Bucky watched Sam approach the elderly man that Bucky already knew was Steve.

Y/N looked up to see what Bucky and Sam were looking at and then she saw Steve. But it wasn’t the Steve she knew. He was older and sitting quietly on a bench alone. She took in a deep, sharp breath realizing what her twin brother had done. He had stayed back in time to be with Peggy. She shook her head, stepping away from Bruce about to make her way over to her brother to chew him out when Bucky grabbed onto her wrist, pulling her to a stop, “Let me go, Bucky!” She hissed out at him.

Bucky watched her with a tinge of sadness in his eyes, “Y/N, stop. He needs to talk to Sam first.” He said gently, his eyes scanning her face. He had known her since the day he brought Steve home the first time after getting beat up. They served in the Howlin’ Cammandos together and she had watched him fall from the train. She was there when he was the Winter Soldier. He had dragged her and Steve from the river after stopping the Helicarrier’s launch. She was there when Civil War happened between the avengers, helping to protect him from Tony while trying to take out the other Winter Soldiers. Y/N had stayed with him in Wakanda, helping him find some sort of peace before he was blipped out of existence by Thanos and she was there waiting when he returned. She had always been a constant in his life. Y/N was his home since the first time he kissed her and, god, he longed for that feeling again but didn’t feel worthy of it anymore.

Y/N turned to glare at Bucky, pulling her wrist out of his grasp, “You knew.” She said, “You knew he was going to do this, didn’t you?”

Bucky sighs and nods slowly, “I did… He told me. He deserves this, sweetheart.” He said softly, reaching out to brush his flesh fingers along her cheek softly. It had been five years since he last saw her before he was snapped away by Thanos and he still felt everything for her.

Y/N looked over at her now elderly brother before back to Bucky, pushing his hand away from her face, “You two have always been quite the pair, James.” She spat out at him before pushing past him. She could hear him calling her name, telling her to wait but she just kept walking.

That was the one of the last times Bucky had seen Y/N as she was. He couldn’t go after her yet though- he had his own shit to work out from his past as the Winter Soldier. He was offered a deal by the federal government where he would be pardoned for the actions as the Winter Soldier as long as he attended court-mandated therapy and psych-evaluations. He couldn’t go after her until he had dealt with all this bullshit. Then the Flag Smashers came to light, causing him and Sam to jump into action to deal with the new super soldiers.

The next time Bucky saw Y/N was in Madripoor at the Princess Bar. He was forced by Zemo to pretend to be the Winter Soldier and couldn’t let down his act. He saw her in the corner watching with her angry eyes locked on Zemo, ready to attack him. Luckily, Sam had noticed her too and got in her path, “Hey, Y/N, don’t.” Sam warned, placing his hands on her arms to get between the fight that Bucky was putting on, “We need Zemo. There’s shit going on you don’t know about. The Flag Smashers and new super-soldiers.”

Y/N glared at Sam, pushing him away from her, “Get off of me.” She hissed out at him before promptly exiting the bar. She had noticed Bucky give her a softened look from the corner of his eyes as he had a man slammed against the bar but even after all this time she was still upset at her brother for leaving her and Bucky for not telling her.

After everything with the Flag Smashers was settled and Sam took the new roll as Captain America, Bucky attended the community cookout with Sam’s family and friends. It was the only place besides Wakanda he felt peace. He play fought with AJ and Cass while balancing the cake he brought. It was the first time in a long time he had actually felt at peace, happy. But there was still something missing and he knew exactly what it was- Y/N. After the cookout, Bucky stood with Sam and watched the sun go down. Bucky looked at Sam with a half smile.

“You’re going to go after her, aren’t you?” Sam asks knowingly. He always had a sort os sixth sense when it came to reading people.

Bucky nodded, “I have to.” He replied with the same half-smile, “I promised Steve I would take care of her. Now that everything is right again, I have to find her.”

Sam placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “I think we both know that it’s about more than just a promise to Steve. Let me know if you need help. A lot of people think of her a deserter after she disappeared but you two will always have a place here.” He said with a smile before returning to be with his sister and nephews.

It took Bucky a long time to find clues of Y/N’s whereabouts. Even with Sharon pardoned and trying to help, she informed him Y/N had left Madripoor after her interaction with Sam. The last trace of her was somewhere in Alaska so that was where he went. He held up pictures of her face, asking if anybody had seen her. He eventually got lucky when an old lady smiled and said, “Oh, that’s Y/N! She lived here in Fairbanks for a few months but said she was moving to Selawik.” And with that information, Bucky made his way to Selawik. He wasn’t lead right to Y/N though. Selawik was a small town that had people scattered deep into the mountains. Bucky trekked through the arctic and eventually found traces of Y/N from katana marks on tree trunks as if she had still been training and using them for targets. When he came to a small cabin where loud 80’s rock music was blasting from, he knew he had found her. He started up the steps when a katana came flying from behind him and stuck into the wooden door. He looked at the katana, recognizing the colors of the handle immediately and turning to see Y/N standing behind him with her other katana in her hand, “Y/N.”

Y/N tilted her head at him, her features emotionless from under her hood. She walks up and pulls her katana from the door beside him, “What are you doing here, James?” She asks in a harsh tone before opening the door and walking into the cabin.

Bucky follows her, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I’ve been looking for you.” He said simply, watching as she went to turn the music off leaving them in silence. He watched her place her katanas on a table before she pulled off her jacket and snow pants, leaving her in blue jeans with a black sweater. He couldn’t lie- her calling him James after Tony’s funeral and now hurt his heart. She always called him Bucky so affectionately since he had introduced himself to her.

After stripping her layers, Y/N turned to look at Bucky, “I know.” She replied, “I saw everything with the Flag Smashers. You and Sam did good. Steve would be proud of the new Captain America. And he would be proud of you.”

Bucky nodded, slowly shimming off his own layers and placed them beside her’s leaving him in black jeans with a light blue long sleeved shirt, “Yeah… Thanks.” He muttered back before meeting her gaze, “What you saw in Madripoor… We needed Zemo’s help. He’s back in prison now.”

“Six feet under would’ve been better.” Y/N replied, folding her arms across her chest as she watched Bucky, “So what are you doing here now? Shouldn’t you be enjoying life as a hero? A new man?”

Bucky frowned a little at her words, “I promised Steve I would help you. I don’t break my promises. I think he kind of caught on about us…” He replied, crossing the space between them and placing his right hand on her arm, “You can come back to Louisiana with me. You would love it there.”

Y/N scanned her eyes across his features. Dammit. He still looked as good as he did the day she met him just a little more aged with those bits of brokenness behind his features, “He already knew about us. After you fell from the train I told him everything.” She informed before sighing at his request, “Is that what you want? Someone to play house with?”

Bucky dropped his hand from her arm and backed away a little at her words, running his fingers through his dark hair with a huff. Of course that’s what he wanted. He had always wanted her. He didn’t want this life for them. He wanted to come back from the military and settle down with Y/N, ask Steve if he could marry her but everything was so different now. They both weren’t the same people they were in the forties, “Look, I know we aren’t the same people we were before and I understand that you don’t care for me the same way anymore, but I still feel everything for you. And I promised Steve I would help you… So if you do end up in need of any help, I’ll be with Sam and whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He told her before turning to shrug his jacket back on.

Y/N sighs and looks around her cabin slowly, “You can’t leave. There’s a storm rolling in and you won’t make it two miles before you’re frozen.” She said, walking over to the kitchen and pulling out two beers, holding one out to him, “Might as well stay here until it dies down.”

Bucky watched her move to the couch before putting his jacket back where it was and taking the beer from her, “Thank you.” He said, opening the bottle and taking a seat at the small kitchen table she had.

Y/N sat across from him at the table, opening her own beer and taking a small sip before placing in in front of her on the table, “You’re wrong, you know?” She asks, watching as Bucky gave her a confused look, “I still care about you in the same way. It’s just everything we’ve been through,” She looks down to the table, “It’s different. I watched you fall from the train thinking you had died. Then decades later you come back not as yourself. I was there in Wakanda with you, helping you get back pieces of you and I still loved you. But then you were gone again because of the snap. I lost you again.” She shook her head slightly, looking up at the ceiling, “Then everything with Steve…”

Bucky listened to her, staring at her intently. His hand gripped the beer bottle roughly at her saying she still felt the same way towards him, “I know… You and I have been through more than anybody should have to.” He said before swallowing hard, “Steve loved you, Y/N. It was what he wanted. He deserved to live a life more than just trading a different war for another.”

“What about what I deserve? Or you?” Y/N asks, looking over at him. There was pain in her eyes and she wrinkled her nose as if to stop herself from crying, “I would’ve gone back with him if he asked but instead he left us here to figure the world out on our own, to figure out who we are when we aren’t not trying to save the world and I don’t know who that is, Bucky.”

Bucky nods, knowing the feeling all too well. They were lost in time, stuck in the present where neither felt like they belonged. Being thrown into situations where they had to save others instead of saving themselves, “I know how you feel.” He replied, looking at his beer bottle in his hands, “Sometimes I don’t know who I am anymore. Even with the Winter Soldier gone it’s like somewhere inside me… He’s still there.” He sighs before looking across the table at the girl he still loved and has never stopped loving, “The only time I feel like myself… The only time I feel like I’m Bucky is when I’m with you. You knew me as I was, who I was and when I look at you it feels like you’re my only hope of getting back to myself.”

Y/N listened to him, biting her bottom lip as she kept her gaze on him for a moment. The way those blue eyes looked at her, even if they were saddened, were the same blue eyes that were filled with love towards her. She sighs and stood up from the table, moving over to the fireplace that was crackling with a large flame, “I’m not the same person though.” She said softly, knowing he would hear her with his enhanced hearing, “I’m not the same girl. I'm not the girl that would jump into your arms and leave kisses all over your face, Bucky. I’m broken too.”

Bucky watched her move across the room as if to retreat from her feelings. The way she had stared into his eyes… He knew she still loved him just as much as he still loved her. He stood, crossing the room over to stand beside her. He gently took her hand in his, looking down at her as she turned her face to look up at him, “You’re not the same girl. And I’m not the same man. But you are still the person I love.” He told her, turning his body to face her’s and gently moved his other hand to sweep some hair from her face before gently pressing his lips to her forehead, “We can be broken together.”

__________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @stcrryslibrary @bibliophilewednesday @redhairedfeistynerd

[rogue-durin-16]

THE RIGHT MOMENT

Summary: Y/n and George had been crushing on each other for too long, but neither of them said anything. They both were waiting for the right moment to do it, but with a war upon them, was there really such thing as 'the right moment'?

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

George Weasley: ———

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: injuries, blood, implicit beating

A/N: (dis bish long lmao) Idk what is this, I just wanted to do something for George. Bill and Fleur's wedding came to my mind and I was like, ok but what happened after the death eaters arrived? And this came out, so enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

I wasn't expecting to see her.

I had heard my mother mention her name whilst talking about the Order, and I knew she had befriended Fleur at the Triwizard Tournament, but seeing her apparate in our yard was... Well, surprising.

"Son, snap out of it!" My father called me out and I corrected my wand movement; I had almost messed up the canopy, and I blamed the way her dress and hair flew with the wind as she approached our home's entrance.

Fred walked to me the moment we had secured everything, glancing at the house before questioning, "am I delirious or that was Y/n?" with a knowing grin and an intent eyebrow wiggle.

As if taking a cue, we saw the girl coming out, now with a borrowed jacket on, making a beeline to us. "I'm... Pretty sure it's her." I replied, giving the girl a smile when she waved. "Morning, lady."

"Morning, gentlemen." Fred then turned around and stepped to her in order to give her a hug. "Long time no see, huh?"

"Indeed." I agreed, following my brother's lead and hugging Y/n; her arms were quick to wrap around my neck and shoulders and squeeze me tight; I would have sworn she let out a relieved sigh. "Fleur invited you?"

"Your mom, actually." Her reply left me puzzled. "I heard your night was... Eventful." She pointed at the bandages covering my ear with a worried look. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than last night." I replied, scratching the back of my neck.

"You sure, Georgie?" It was then that I remembered we weren't alone. "Last night he was feeling Saint-like." Y/n frowned in confusion. "Because he's holey." Fred pointed at his ear just like I had done the night before and I could feel my cheeks burning. "Get it?"

"Oh, no! it's sooo bad!" She laughed at the joke and a smile tugged the corners of my lips. "I think that's the lamest joke you've cracked." She pointed out.

"I know! I told him."

"Okay, I was bleeding out." I defended myself. "I think I'm allowed to crack a lame joke."

"Dunno, George, it was really bad." I threw my head back with a groan at Y/n's teasing. She waved at Fred, who said something about having things to do inside, and when my eyes landed on him over Y/n's shoulder, he mouthed a clear 'go for it'. "Tonks told me about Mad-Eye." She spoke again in a more serious note.

"You said it," the smile vanishing from my face. "Last night was eventful."

"When your mother told me you got hurt, I just... I got really scared." Her anxious words took me aback. "I went straight into the house to see you." The wind made her hair flow again, and I had to put my hands in my pockets to stop myself from tucking that bloody strand that kept getting in her face back behind her ear. "I was so happy you were out preparing stuff and not in there, unconscious in a bed."

"Well, I'm very happy to see you." I replied, my eyes digging into hers to make sure she knew how much I meant that. "Missed tons that smile of yours."

"I missed your lame jokes." I rolled my eyes at her response. Right after, she stepped forward and gently pulled me down; one of her hands holding onto my forearm, steadying her, while the other one cupped one of my cheeks so she could press a kiss to the other. "See you." And with that, she was off to greet the rest.

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

"Do it."

"She's talking with Luna."

"Excuses." I puffed tired at Fred's reproach before taking a sip of my drink. "C'mon, you got absolutely nothing to lose."

"My dignity?"

"She fancies you!" I shook my head no. "How many times are you gonna have the opportunity to dance with her, Georgie? Stop being a twit."

"Not yet."

"Oi, have you seen Y/n?" Ron approached us, taking a seat by my side.

"It's the only thing he's seen." I pinched the bridge of my nose, unable to deny what my twin had just said. "Just do it." I groaned. "Okay, I'll do it."

"No!" I jumped up and tugged Fred down in the process. "Alright, I'll go."

READER'S P. O. V.

"Yeah, I was about to—"

I involuntarily let out a squeal when a hand tickled my side. "Hello, ladies." I spun my head to see George behind me. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but may I have this dance?"

Luna replied before I could. "You see, I was wondering how much time it'd take you to ask her." I turned as red as a beetroot; my only comfort was that the towering ginger's face was the colour of his hair. "I think I'm odd man out." She waved us goodbye and headed to see Harry.

"I reckon Luna is way too observant." He spoke, tugging my hand.

"Were you ogling me, Weasley?"

"Maybe." He came to a stop in the middle of the dancefloor and pulled me close. "Couldn't take my eyes off you." He confessed quietly.

As we swayed, I let my forehead land on his chest, savouring what I dreaded would be one of the last precious moments before everything went down.

"George?" He hummed, raising his brows as a prompt for me to talk. I took a deep breath and told myself that what I was going to say mattered little compared to whatever was looming over us. "I've been wanting to tell you this, but I just... Didn't find the right time." Our faces were mere inches away. "But I don't think I'll ever find the right time at this point so—"

I jolted, holding onto George, when a blue volute plunged into the tent; a Patronus.

It was not until Shacklebolt message was ending that I realized George's arms were around me, pulling me flush against his chest.

Both our hearts were hammering violently, and I was sure he could feel mine as clearly as I felt his.

When the Patronus vanished, panic began to spread. I noticed how my own breathing picked up. "Y/n." This time it was George the one calling my name; his whisper sounded so clear compared to everyone else's screams and cries. "If I don't say this out loud, I'll combust—"

"Y/N! GET DOWN!" Tonks's shouts snapped us out of it. We obeyed just in time to see a red hex flying over us, being stopped by Tonks herself.

George and I grabbed our wands and pulled each other back to our feet before joining the Order.

"FREDDIE!"

"LUNA!"

We parted ways, George making his way to reach his twin while I ran to a moderately tipsy Luna, who seemed to be struggling to find her father.

As soon as I made sure she was out of the picture, I jogged to help the twins, casting protection spells against two death eaters.

"STUPEFY!" I managed to take out the one attacking George, and he was quick to stun the one duelling his brother.

"Leave!" George tugged my hand, attempting to get me out of the canopy, his brother quickly rushing to their little sister.

"I'm not leaving!"

"Y/n—" I moved him out of the way to shield us from another hex. "Please— Flipendo!!" I saw another death eater flying away from us. "Shit!" George's hand gripped mine for dear life, making me back off with him to get back in when he realized it was too late for me to leave.

Soon enough it was just the Weasleys, Fleur and her family, Tonks, Lupin and me inside the tent, all back-to-back, surrounded by death eaters.

Corban Yaxley stepped out. "My apologies to disrupt the celebrations." he offered a fake apology to the newlyweds which was equally disgusting and scary. "Let's try by fair means." I knew my knuckles had gone white, given the strength with which I was gripping George's hand. "Where is Harry Potter?" He knew no one would speak. "Aight, by foul it'll be."

I looked around and I saw Molly and Arthur shielding Ginny; Bill and Fleur held onto each other; Lupin and Tonks pulled Fleur's sister and parents behind them; Fred gave a quick look at his twin before moving closer to us.

"Take them inside and register the house."

Soon we were being pushed into the Burrow, a bunch of death eaters before us ready to put all upside down.

We stayed quiet meanwhile, leaving out an occasional 'don't touch that' or a 'there's no need to break that' from Molly and Arthur.

"I reckon you won't find Harry in my grandma's glass cabinet, smart arse." We all turned to Fred, his mother giving him a pleading look.

"Maybe he's between the plates, Freddie," George jumped in, attempting to draw the attention off his brother. "You'll want to check the cutlery too, in case he's now a teaspoon." He suggested to Yaxley with a challenging look.

The death eater tilted his head to the side, as if he had noticed something worth of interest in George. "What happened to you?"

Everyone went livid.

"I fell downstairs." George replied through gritted teeth. His tone was full of what could be easily passed as anger, but by the way his hand was shaking, I reckoned it was fear.

Yaxley seemed to think for a second before turning to two of his mates. "Start with him, then the twin and we'll move on to—"

Before I knew what I was doing, my wand was out and hexing one of the guys that had tried to remove George from us.

"Take their BLOODY WANDS!" Yaxley stalked to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me away. "We'll start with you, miss."

"No! Wait, she doesn't know anything!" George tried in vain to persuade them, pushing through the death eaters in an attempt to get to me. I looked at him and shook my head no, already psyching myself up.

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

They were rather quick, and not half as bad as I thought they would be. I was thrown back into the living room with only a shiner and the promise of bruised wrists.

It was enough for George to jump up; not to check on me, though, but to do something as stupid as my impulsive hexing.

"Okay, crippled," three death eaters grabbed him before he could do anything and dragged to the bathroom they had gotten me in. "your turn."

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

He looked bad.

Molly was about to throw hands when we saw George leaving the bathroom; a cut on the cheek, a bloody nose, a black eye and by the way he flinched while walking, probably an injured rib.

But the worst was the red pooling the bandage around his head, and the way he was struggling to keep his hand off it.

"C'mon, blabber." It wasn't surprising when Fred willingly approached Yaxley and punched him strong enough to throw him down. "You know-” He got up, motioning at his minions so they would get Fred in. “that just made it worse."

I spared Molly an enquiring look, to which she replied with a nod; in an instant, I was gently pulling George to the settee. "Let me see..." I pursed my lips, tilting his head to the side so I could check his wound. A sigh left my lips, suddenly realizing I couldn't really take off the bandage in front of them. "Can you sit it up?" I whispered only for him to hear.

He nodded, his hand travelling up to mine, which rested on his cheek, to give it a reassuring squeeze. I didn't think twice about how wrong the timing was before leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

My body moved forward by itself when she pulled back, attempting to chase her lips. I managed to stop myself when I remembered we were surrounded by death eaters and my family was right behind Y/n.

She then gave me a small smile and moved to grab a fresh towel from the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of my family's looks before she came back, ready to clean the blood on my face.

She aided Fred along with my mom; he bore the burnt along with me.

The sun was rising when Yaxley decided to leave. My father rushed to send a Patronus to the trio, and everyone felt a bit of relief and finally scattered through the Burrow. Ginny claimed she would take care of Fred, and she took my twin to our room.

"Now, let's check that." Y/n spoke, standing up so she could remove the damp bandage. "What happened?"

"He threw a punch and—" I hissed when the bandage left my ear, earning a concerned ‘sorry’ from Y/n. "The wound opened. It began to bleed, and they decided to stop." She only nodded, grabbing again the towel, now mildly red due to the blood it had cleaned. "That kiss was too short." I didn't even know how I managed to let that out.

She stopped, her eyes going up and down my body before inquiring, "want another one?"

"Please." She didn't need anything else for her soft lips to return to mines. This time it was one hell of a kiss, but my mouth chased them again when Y/n pulled away, only that this time her lips did return to mines for another short kiss. "Should I ask you on a date?"

"I doubt we'll be able to go on a proper date." We both chuckled; as sad as it sounded, it was true. "You can make me a coffee after I fix this, though."

"Gladly." I replied, my thumb caressing her cheek before bringing her to my lips one more time.

"FINALLY!" We both jumped at Fred's yelling. "It was about fucking time, really."

"Do you wanna get beaten up again?" Y/n harmlessly shoved my shoulder, hiding a laugh. "I just realized," I signalled my black eye and then hers. "We're matching."

"What a lovely way to match, is it not?" She replied, shaking her head with a smile on her face. “Come,” she caressed my cheek before carefully pulling me up. “I saw clean bandages over the sink.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Y/l/n,” her eyes travelled to my brother. “don’t you snog my brother in the lavatory where we just got beaten up.”

“Piss off, Fred.” She responded indifferent, pulling me with her into the bathroom, leaving the door completely open; she probably feared my mother would burst it open at the possibility of us doing inappropriate things in there.

“Yeah, piss off.” I agreed, siting down on the toilet so she could clean the wound. “She can snog me wherever she wants.” I added, muffling a laugh when Y/n cursed us both under her breath. “I’m sorry, love.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“No, I’m not.” I confessed with an amused grin.

“Why do I even fancy you?” She questioned, faking disappointment in herself.

“I’m very handsome?” I casually suggested, tilting my head for her to wrap the bandage without much difficulty. 

“Must be.” She agreed, leaning on to peck my lips. “Now where’s that coffee, sir?”

I got up, leading Y/n to the kitchen and instantly preparing the coffee pot. “It’s gonna be the best coffee you’ll ever taste.” I stated, as if it was a scientifical fact.

“Confident, are we?” she laughed, sitting on the counter besides me.

“Well, my four-year-long crush just kissed me.” I confessed. “So yeah, very.”

“Fred’s right.” I hummed, looking at her with an eyebrow raised as I handed her the coffee. “It was about fucking time.” We smiled at each other, way too widely for two people who had just gotten roughed up. We stayed next to one another in silence, looking through the window; I found the customary landscape particularly beautiful. 

[snlhostharry]

try try again

harry x reader

2.2k words 

summary: harry wants to propose, but life keeps getting in the way 

a/n: first off... I suck at titles... why am I like this.... second off this is my secret santa gift for @jambrosemc ! happy holidays em! hope you like this, you are a super talented writer I just binged all your pieces and I am obsessed. and thank you to @peeterparkr for hosting 

The first time he tries is after the first concert he does for Fine Line. 

Fine Line at the Forum is a success in all the ways that matter, and Harry is so happy coming off the stage that he almost forgets about his plan to propose all together. When you barge into his dressing room after the show is over, smiling and ecstatic for him he suddenly sees the ring box on the counter and rushes to shove it in his pocket before you can see it. 

“That was insane, love,” You say wrapping him into a hug. “I think they really liked it.” 

He gives you a cheeky smile, “You think?” You roll your eyes in response, “What gave it away?” He asks, “The frantic screaming or the bra’s that were thrown onto the stage?” 

“You should’ve kept a couple,” You tease, “They could’ve been my size.” 

He laughs, “If you want one that bad I will buy it for you.” 

“I’m holding you to that,” You say, taking a seat on top of the counter. He runs a hand through his hair, knowing that this would be the perfect moment to just get down on one knee. He can see himself doing it, simply bending down and saying the words he’s wanted to say for what feels like forever. “You okay?” You ask him, seeing the look on his face and supposing that he’s thinking about something that happened during the concert. “You did a great job out there, seriously. Everyone really loved it H, the album is spectacular.” 

He shakes himself back into the moment, “I know, I know.” He says, and it comes off a little sharper than he means it too, he’s just very much in his own head about this whole thing now. What felt like it would be the perfect moment now feels wrong, like doing it now would cheapen the entire thing. He sighs, “Sorry,” He says, planting himself down on the floor dramatically, “Thank you.” 

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” You tell him, guessing that he’s just tired from a long night. “Let’s get takeout and go home, or go home and get takeout whichever order.” 

He smiles, “You ate before the show.” 

“That was like three hours ago, and it was a snack, I always planned on eating again, and you were too nervous to eat before the show.” 

He hugs his knees to his chest, “Watching you eat an entire kids meal in under five minutes actually helped with the nerves.” 

You shrug, “What can I say? I have my moments.” 

He stands and presses a kiss to your forehead as you swing your legs over the side of the counter. “You have a lot of moments, I love you.” 

“Love you too,” You wait a second before asking, “So home then?” 

He thinks about it for a minute, “Yeah.” 

“When you call in the food order make sure you put it under my name,” You tell him and he collects his things from the room, “People are beginning to get suspicious when I go into the restaurant to pick up an order for Harry.” 

He nods, and gently grabs your hand as the two of you leave. Maybe he’s not going to do it tonight, but he’s more resolved to actually pop the question than ever. He’s just so in love with you that he wants the whole thing to be perfect, and for some reason he has it all in his head that it needs to be a story that the two of you can tell in the future, something meaningful, he just has absolutely no idea what that is. 

The second planned attempt is a lot more off the cuff. 

You insist on throwing him a birthday party at the house, saying something about wanting to one up your sister who threw a very tasteful christmas party that the two of you went to. Not that your sister was invited seeing as the party was in London, but you knew that there would be enough pictures that she would see that you’re just as good as she is. Harry doesn’t understand it at all, but he decides that he doesn't even want to know how a rivalry like that can develop and leaves it alone. 

Objectively, you throw a very nice party. Of course Harry makes it a point to tell you this as often as possible without seeming overly invested in it, because he loves you and he wants you to be proud of your own work just like you want him to be proud of his. It’s hard for him to leave your side at all because he loves to see you talk to his friends and family and seem so happy to do it. You fit right in with everyone and he’s so grateful for that, and it’s as he’s standing there watching you talk to people that it hits him that this could be his moment. 

Not in front of everyone because that would be so much more pressure than he needs, but he thinks that after when everyone has finally left the house that he could catch you in the middle of cleaning or something and gently ask you to marry him. He decides that tonight, that’s the plan and he spends the rest of the night just thinking about that. It really is a great party, full of all his favorite things and people, it’s one of those nights where he feels like he loves you so much that his heart might just burst out of his chest. 

When finally every last guest has left the house, and things are a bit messy, he can’t seem to find you anywhere. He locks the door behind him, and starts walking through the house calling your name. He checks upstairs, in the kitchen, in all the bathrooms, and nothing. Until finally he walks into the living room and finds you sound asleep on the couch, snoring loudly enough that he’s surprised he didn’t hear it while he was looking. He looks at you and just smiles, suddenly completely fine with the fact that another plan has been ruined. He simply picks you up and takes you to bed, well aware he’s going to have to move onto plan C if he ever wants to get this done. 

The next time he tries, you end up surprising him. 

Plan C is a nice candlelight dinner at the house, which Harry tried to cook but ended up burning so eventually he relented and ordered food before putting it all together. Of all the plans he had come up with thus far, this one seemed the most foolproof. Everything was already planned: he knew you were going to come home from work at a certain time, he knew that there wouldn't be any distractions, and he had psyched himself up enough that he wasn’t just going to forget about the whole thing like he did the first time.

When the entire table is set up and the ring is in his pocket, he sits waiting for you to come home. He thinks about getting up to change some of the place settings just a little, but when he does he hears the clicking sound of your key in the door and sits back in his seat. After you walk into the house and set your stuff down in the entryway, Harry hears the sound of your shoes on the floor as you excitedly run into the kitchen. When you make it to where he can see you, he sees that you have a megawatt smile on your face and a large box in your hands. 

“I have a surprise,” You say, keeping a firm hold of the box. 

“I suppose it’s in that box,” He says, leaning over the chair so that he can see. 

You roll your eyes but keep smiling, “Yeah, obviously.” 

“Do you want me to guess?”

“God no,” You say, “That would take way too long. Basically I was at work today, and Mark has been producing this piece about a no kill animal shelter for a new segment about everyday heroes or whatever which is gross because puff pieces but when the woman came in to do the interview she brought in all these cats, no dogs for some reason, but anyway so we were all playing with the cats because our job is stressful and cats, and then she was like ‘you guys seem so good with these cats, they are looking for homes and-” 

He looks at you with a wide eyed expression, “You didn’t.” 

You ceremoniously walk over to the table, open the box and pull a small orange cat into your arms, “You bet your ass I did.” You gently pet the cat, which mews quietly from your arms, “She does not have a name mostly because I couldn’t think of any.” 

“We talked about pets like a week ago, briefly.” 

You give a guilty smile, “Yeah but I felt like I really needed this cat. I live here now, we live here, and I finally feel like I’m settled-” You sit down at the table and sigh, “I think I might be nesting, which is kind of gross but I don't know. I love you, and I love being here and I finally feel stable enough to get a freaking cat so that’s the explanation I have.” 

He can’t stop himself from breaking into a smile, even though he knows his plans have been thwarted again. (He thinks later, after the moment has already passed that he very well could’ve done it right then and there after you’d given a whole speech about the two of you being stable). He shakes his head after looking at you making funny faces at the cat like it’s a child, “Okay hand her over.” 

You hand her over and say, “I will not accept any names that have to go with the fact that she’s a ginger, because that’s just lame.” 

“Well seeing as those were my only ideas-”

You sigh, “We will think of something, just not now because you got dinner and I’m starving.” 

“What’s she going to eat?”

“I got food and a bowl, and a bunch more things being delivered within the next week or two.” 

“Did you go out and buy a box just for the dramatic reveal?”

“Yes, I did and it was totally worth it.” 

The cat’s name ends up being Hillary, after you discover an affinity for pet names that are usually person names. Something about the way you’ll end up talking about Hillary in polite conversation and someone will have to ask you who that is makes you want to choose it overall. Even though Harry is not sure about the sudden change at first, he soon becomes best friends with Hillary, and you often find the two of them cuddled up together on the couch. She likes to listen to him play music just as much as you do as it turns out. 

Harry is still trying to think of a way to propose. So much time has passed since he bought the ring, and the first time that he planned to pop the question that he wonders if he’ll ever find the right time to do it or if you’ll just end up asking him one day because it’s all gone too far. One afternoon when the two of you are relishing a rare shared day off, he watches you cook lunch in the kitchen and decides that now is the time to do it. No more excuses, no more surprises, just him and you and the question on the tip of his tongue for too long. 

When you put all of the food on plates, and set them out on the counter he walks over and just looks at you. It weirds you out at first so you ask, “What? Is there something on my face?” 

He gets down on one knee and you still are very confused about what he’s doing. You open your mouth to ask him, but the realization suddenly hits you and you cover your mouth with your hands. 

“y/n,” He says, “I have been waiting to ask you this for what feels like forever. And everytime that the plan fell through you somehow managed to make me want to marry you even more. I love you so much, I love everything about you, how excited you get about your work, how much you love Hillary and how supportive you are whenever I do anything. I love our life here, and I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?” 

You don’t say anything for a second, still shocked, “Yes of course.” He stands and kisses you, slipping the ring onto your finger. “I was wondering when you would ask me.” 

“You knew?”

“I saw it that night after the forum,” You say, “I figured you got nervous.” 

“And you just let me flounder here for almost six months?” 

“Yes,” You smile, “I figured you wanted to do it on your own terms.” 

“Next time just call me out love, because I sat on this for too long.” 

[atlabeth]

transferred part 17 - atla smau

part 16 | masterlist | part 18 

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know he’s falling for you as well. 

a/n: ahahah a ??? im sorry?? that this took so long?? as you know ive been dying of school and exams and even though ive gotten a couple oneshots out and did my celebration i just have not had the energy to write a whole mf chapter. but it’s here ! after a month of waiting

wc: 4.8k she is a LONG ONE FOLKS prepare yourselves

warning(s): cursing, alcohol and getting drunk, toxic relationships, mentions of cheating, implied emotional abuse, y/n having a breakdown, just an overall mess 

-

“Katara, don’t pull so hard!” You exclaimed, reaching a hand up to touch your scalp. You had entrusted your sister with styling your hair for the party tonight, but only after insistent nagging on her part. She had invited — or forced, as you liked to call it — you over to their dorm to get ready for the party that night together and do all kinds of girl talk. You figured this was a trap to get you to talk about you and Zuko, but it’s not like you would deny an opportunity to hang out with some of your favorite girls. 

“Sorry,” she chuckled. “Just think of it as retribution for all the times that you pulled my hair like this when you did my braids.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly and glanced over at Toph and Suki who had already gotten ready but still lounging around the dorm to hang out. “So.” 

“So?” Suki repeated. 

“So when are the questions going to start?” You asked with a small laugh. “I appreciate the invite over here to get ready, but I know you all just wanted to ask me about what’s going with Zuko. So ask away.”

“What happened during that car ride—”

“Has he said anything to you since the kiss—”

“What’s going on at the tea shop—”

“Woah, woah! One question at a time!” you interrupted as they all started going on at the same time. “First off, nothing happened during the car ride. We worked out some miscommunications, and we’re all good. Second — yes, we’ve talked since the kiss, but there’s been nothing groundbreaking. And third, the only thing going on at the tea shop is the tea that we’re serving.”

Toph groaned and shook her head. “Are you serious? That’s so boring!”

“You’re telling me that nothing has happened in the couple of weeks since the kiss? Like, are you sure you’re not in a secret relationship with him and just neglecting to tell us?” Katara asked.

“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted. “As much as I want something to go on, I… haven't’ really said anything either.”

“What?” Suki cried. “You are crazy for him, how have you not tried to make something out of this yet?!”

“I don’t know!” you shot back defensively. “I guess I’m just scared that everything will go wrong.”

“Look,” Suki began as she took a seat on the floor in front of you. “You are kind, funny, gorgeous as hell, and an all around amazing person — and Zuko has it just as bad for you as you do for him! So embrace all of that, get out there tonight, and make a move!”

It had been too long since you had gotten a pep talk from Suki, and it was strangely refreshing. You nodded and sat up. “You know, you’re right! I have just… I’ve been sitting around, waiting for him to make a move because I’m too scared of getting rejected. But I am a delight! I am a lovely person, and I am a delight. Besides, we’re both adults! Even if he doesn’t like me the same way I do—”

“Which he does,” Toph interrupted, which earned her a joking glare.

“Even if he doesn’t like me the same way I do,” you repeated. “We’re still going to be friends. It’ll just be a couple awkward weeks, and then we’ll be back to normal.”

“That’s as close to the spirit as we’re gonna get!” Katara exclaimed as she gave you a high-five.

“It’s about time,” Toph joked as she hit you on the shoulder. “Now, are you gonna get ready or what?”

“Right,” you chuckled. “I did get this super cute dress a while ago that I haven’t gotten a chance to wear. I think it’ll be perfect for tonight.”

“What are you waiting for, girl?” Suki asked. “Show us!”

After showing off your dress, you had finished up the final touches of your makeup and gotten one last pep talk from all of your girls — you were feeling more confident than ever, and you were sure that tonight was the night you would tell Zuko how you felt.

-

Back at the apartment, the boys were going through a similar dilemma.

“Zuko, what are you so scared about?” Sokka was hanging upside down off of the couch, a move he must’ve picked up from his sister, as he questioned his friend.

“I don’t know, everything? She could reject me, she could start to hate me, I could ruin everything that we’ve built over the past few months— you know, it’s not even that bad, what we have right now! What’s the harm in just staying like this?”

“Zuko,” Aang groaned. “I get being cautious, but this is just too much! You’re letting your fears get in the way of you and Y/N being happy. You kissed her, right? And she kissed you back! I’m telling you, if you let her know how you feel tonight then everything will work out. Trust me!”

“Seriously, buddy — it’s just painful at this point. It’ll be kinda weird having one of my friends date my sister again, but somehow, you two being apart is worse. Just tell her already!”

“Okay!” Zuko exclaimed defensively. He finished doing his hair then ran his fingers through it, ruining his work completely. When Sokka gave him a weird look, he shrugged and smiled to himself a bit. “Y/N likes it this way.”

Sokka gestured at him in disbelief and shook his head. “This is exactly what I mean!”

“Okay!” he repeated. Zuko leaned against the kitchen island and nodded. “Okay, I’ll tell her how I feel tonight. After she’s gotten into the party a little, I’ll take her outside and I’ll tell her how I feel.”

“And then you’ll kiss and it’ll be happily ever after!” Aang crooned.

Sokka rolled off of the sofa and stood up, then picked up the car keys from the table. “Someone text the girls, because we’re leaving. I can’t deal with this anymore.”

“You’re gonna do great tonight, Zuko,” Aang reassured as he gave Zuko a pat on the back. “Just remember why you like her in the first place, and speak from the heart. She likes you, so as long as you’re you, things will go great.”

Zuko nodded and gave Aang a small smile. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.”

As the two of them followed Sokka out of the apartment, he took another deep breath and tried to psych himself up. He was sure that tonight was the night he would tell you how he felt.

-

The seven of you regrouped with each other where you would be spending the rest of the night — because a ton of students were expected to celebrate the end of the first semester, the party was being hosted in a warehouse that a couple of kids had rented out for the night. It was more extravagant than the first party you went to in every way — you could hear the music thumping from all the way down the street as you got out of the car.

“Do you think we beat them here?” Suki asked as she helped Toph out. Katara locked the car and looked around, shaking her head as she pointed down the street. Sokka, Aang, and Zuko were all walking up together, having parked a couple cars down.

“They beat us by a minute. Probably broke a hundred different traffic laws in the process.”

“You guys made it!” Aang exclaimed as he gave Katara a kiss on the cheek. “Sokka forced Zuko to let him drive here, said he’s too slow and that he wanted to beat you all.”

“Sounds like him,” Suki joked as she took Sokka’s hand. “You ready, Big Shot?”

“I’m always ready,” he grinned, earning a laugh from you and Katara. Your eyes fell on Zuko as he walked up and you smiled, already starting to feel your cheeks heating up.

“Wow, Y/N, you look…”

“Amazing?” you guessed coyly.

“Breathtaking,” he clarified, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips. You laughed and looped your arm through his, and the two of you began making your way towards the party.

The rest of the group shot each other looks that ranged from overjoyed to bewildered to confused. As they started to follow you, they realized that getting the two of you together might be easier than they thought.

-

It wasn’t hard to get into the spirit of the night once you got into the party. There had to be at least a couple hundred people there, but it didn’t take long for everyone to start breaking off into groups. Suki had roped you in karaoke while Aang had taken Zuko to meet some of his friends, giving Sokka, Katara, and Toph time to strategize before setting the plan in motion.

“Okay!” Katara shouted so she could be heard over all the noise. “I don’t think we’re actually gonna have to do that much tonight! Just.. keep him busy for a while and then give him an out, and we’ll do the same with Y/N!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the whole plan. I made it up, remember?” Sokka wasn’t completely focused on the conversation at hand as his eyes darted around the scene, seemingly searching for something. His eyes suddenly lit up and he started to back away from their small group. “There he is! Sorry Katara, gotta go prove to a bunch of freshmen that they don’t know anything and I’m better than them. Aang can handle Zuko!” He grinned at her then ran off into the crowd before Katara could protest.

She sighed and turned to Toph. “Suki’s got Y/N occupied and Aang’s got Zuko, so it looks like it’s just you and me, Beifong. Whaddya wanna do?”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to see your sister embarrass herself with karaoke?” Toph asked.

Katara laughed and grabbed Toph’s hand as she started to lead them through the crowd. “You know what? That sounds perfect. After all the work we’ve done for her and Zuko, I think I deserve to laugh at her for a while.”

-

The first two hours of the party passed by quickly. You spent the first thirty minutes making a fool of yourself with Suki as you sang a couple classics on karaoke — though it was a bit humiliating, you had an amazing time. The second half of the hour went to the beer pong competition that Sokka’s friend Zhen had organized (they did end up winning, so you supposed his pride was well earned), and the next hour was dedicated to dancing, drinking, and letting loose. You had finished the first semester of your masters program, so you felt like you deserved it.

You had stolen away to an emptier corner to give yourself a breather as well as some alone time — you were enjoying yourself, but it was close to claustrophobic in the heat of it all. You were passing the time on your phone when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Your eyes immediately shot up as you tucked your phone into your purse, and you were met with your favorite pair of golden eyes.

“Hey,” Zuko breathed, taking a second to straighten his ruffled clothes. You couldn’t help the smile that played on your lips as you ran a hand through his hair to muss it up even further.

“Hey yourself,” you laughed. “What’s so important that you had to run all the way over here?”

“I have something I need to tell you. It actually is really important, but I think it’d go over better if we weren’t in the middle of all this chaos.”

You would be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart beat a little faster, and as you felt your cheeks heat up you realized that this was your chance. “Uh, yeah. Sure, totally— I actually have something I need to tell you, so that’s perfect!”

“Really?”

“Guess we’re just in tune.”

Zuko smiled as he took your hand and started to lead you through the crowd, but when you heard someone calling your name you froze. The blood in your veins turned to ice, and your grip on Zuko’s hand tightened. He shot you a questioning look but you didn’t even see it.

“No,” you muttered, barely legible. “No, not here.”

You almost didn’t want to turn around to confirm your suspicions. You could’ve ignored it, pretended like you didn’t hear it over the sounds of the party, but there was a voice nagging in your head that you couldn’t just ignore it, you had to find out if he was really, truly here — so you did.

You wanted nothing more to be wrong in that moment — honestly, you thought that you were hallucinating at first. You hadn’t had that much to drink, but maybe the alcohol combined with the sleep deprivation was making you see things. Unfortunately, it was real. You could never forget those eyes.

“Hahn,” you mumbled, the sight taking a moment to register. “Hahn, what the hell are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to party, and I’m here to see you.” The grin on his face didn’t waver as he looked you up and down, choosing to ignore the blatant shock on your face.

“You are not here to see me,” you clarified coolly. “We’re not together anymore, and ex-boyfriends don’t make hour-long drives to see their ex-girlfriends, especially ex-girlfriends that they treated like trash.”

“I figured you’d be more happy to see me than this,” he huffed. “Ungrateful as usual.” Hahn seemed to finally notice Zuko and scoffed as he looked at him. “What, is he your new boyfriend? You really downgraded.”

“You have no right to talk to her like that—” Zuko stepped forward to say more but you held out your hand to stop him. You gave him a short nod and stepped forward yourself.

“Hahn, I’m going to ask you one more time.” You could feel your hands shaking, whether it was from rage or fear you didn’t know. Your voice was deadly calm, but it was taking all of your energy to stay that way. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Hahn laughed and crossed his arms. “You’re joking right?” His amusement was a notion that you didn’t share, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably before he continued. “You wouldn’t answer my texts, and you obviously still want me after the things you sent me. My brother had a game here and I came along to see him, so I figured I would pay you a visit as well. You never really officially broke up with me, y’know. Are you really going to let three years go down the drain because of one little incident?”

Now it was your turn to laugh — it was from pure disbelief rather than amusement, though. “Are you serious? Hahn, I left you! I walked out, I moved out, I transferred universities to get away from you! Are you really so dense that you still think you stand a chance based off of some drunk texts?”

“Woah, you think you’re giving me a chance? Y/N/N, this is my olive branch to you — I messed up, I know I did, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fix things up! I could have any girl I wanted back at Kyoshi, but I’m here because I want you — I love you, babe. You know I do.”

“You don’t get to call her ‘babe’,” Zuko snapped. “She doesn’t want you here, so why don’t you just save yourself some trouble and get out of here?”

Hahn snorted and shook his head. “Stay out of this, fireboy. Y/N’s a big girl, she can speak for herself.”

You looked around and saw that a modest crowd was forming around the three of you, and more than a few people were filming. If you didn’t want your relationship problems to become BSSU news, you had to defuse this as soon as possible.

“Listen,” you interrupted. “Zuko’s right, Hahn. It was a mistake to come here — if you’re as smart as you always say, then you would know that. Just.. go home.”

Hahn scoffed as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “No, you listen. I’m trying to do you a favor here, Y/N! I made one mistake, and apparently that was enough to ruin everything we had.”

“You know just as well as I do that it wasn’t one mistake!” you cried. “If you can really get any other girl you want, then do it! I mean, that wasn’t a problem for you during our relationship, so I don’t see why it’s a problem now. We’re not getting back together, so just stop!”

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he sneered as he gave Zuko another onceover. “He’s the reason you’re acting like this. I never thought that you would sink so low, but you’ve clearly gone soft. Come on, stop acting like a baby and we can talk this out alone.”

He started to reach for your hand but you pulled it back, and before you knew what you were doing, you had handed your drink to Zuko and your fist was flying right at Hahn’s face. It hurt like hell, but the pure satisfaction from seeing his shock as he recoiled was a painkiller on its own.

“How’s that for soft?” you spat as you rubbed your injured knuckles.

“You.. you bitch!” he yelled, staggering back a few feet as he put his hand over his nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. “This is how you repay me after everything? You should be thankful I’m giving you another chance—” he started to reach for you again, but you slapped his hand away. You cast a glance back at Zuko and saw that he had been joined by Sokka and Katara, and knowing that they were with you made all the difference.

“I don’t want another chance!” you shouted. “You are the one that fucked up, you are the one that made my life hell, and you are not the one that gets to give out second chances! I gave you so many chances, and you messed up every single one! Hahn, I never want to see you again. And if you ever try something like this again, if you ever even try and talk to me again, I will do something so much worse. Now do the smart thing and get out!”

You gave him one hard shove to the chest then turned on your heel and ran. It was the coward’s move, you knew it was, but you couldn’t be there anymore. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed through the crowd to get to the back door, heaving shaky breaths once you finally made it outside. You could hear familiar voices yelling and felt the slightest tinge of joy knowing that your younger siblings were giving Hahn hell.

You leaned against the side of the building, pressing the heels of your hands against your forehead to try and stop yourself from having a full on breakdown. You started to count backwards from twenty in your head as your eyes scanned the area for something, anything, to ground you. It helped in the sense that you weren’t about to lose it right then and there, but you were still on the brink. You slid down the wall into a sitting position and hugged your knees to your chest, the tears finally falling.

This was your university, this was your night, this was for you to make new memories and end your first semester, but like everything else he had come in and ruined it. You had no idea how he even found you, how he knew you would even be here, but it scared you.

“Should’ve blocked you as soon as you… fucking asshole… can’t believe..” you mumbled incoherently as you pulled your phone out with shaky hands, blocking and deleting his number. You dropped your phone in your lap and then put your head in your hands, still trying to process everything that happened. You didn’t even look up when you heard someone coming outside, but somehow you immediately knew who it was.

“Hey, Y/N.. Are you.. okay?” Zuko’s voice was full of sympathy but also caution, as if you were a delicate flower you didn’t want to tear.

“Do I look okay, Zuko?” Your words came out much more aggressive than you wanted them to, and you bit your lip. You had always expected his kindness to be a double-edged sword, something he used just to get something from you, but it never was. Not even once. It made sense after what he told you, and it just made him an even better person in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just.. not. Not in the slightest. Hahn was the last person I expected to see tonight.”

Zuko moved over and sat down against the wall with you then hovered his hand above yours, giving you a chance to pull away. When you didn’t move, he set his hand on yours, filling you with the comforting warmth that you missed.

“You don’t need to apologize. What he did was fucked up.” He cracked a small smile. “Punching him was pretty badass though.”

You wiped a tear away and let out a soft laugh. “It was about time I stood up for myself. Our whole relationship was built off of this sick power dynamic that he loved to wield over me. Things were fine for the first few months, of course. He had this douchebag reputation on campus, but I believed that I could change him, that I could be the one to make him settle down, and— and it felt like I had at first! He was the sweetest guy, and he always brought me things and took me out on dates and it was just- it was just a dream. But I should’ve known he was using me. He had never changed, he had just gotten better at hiding those parts of himself.”

“I had zero sense of self worth and he used that. Told me that if I broke up with him I would never find anyone better, always convincing me that I was the one in the wrong, that if I wasn’t so dramatic then we wouldn’t have all these arguments. And the worst thing about it? I believed him. I believed him every time.” Your voice cracked on your last sentence and you could feel yourself getting choked up again. You swallowed hard and tried your best to push your emotions back down. “I was so terrified that he was right, that I would end up alone if I broke up with him, that I stayed. And that was our relationship for the past three years — built off of fear and manipulation.”

“A lot of people wonder why I transferred here. Sure, I did it for my masters, but Kyoshi has a perfectly fine program. I had already established my life there, I had an apartment, lots of friends, and yeah, I was going to go through with it. I was going to get my masters back there, but I… I did it because of him. I left because of Hahn.”

“Y/N. What did he do?” There was a dangerous undertone to his words, and you placed your intertwined hands on his knee. You didn’t want him to do something he would regret, and more selfishly, you needed him here right now.

You closed your eyes and let the question hang in the air for a moment. You hadn’t told anyone the truth of how your relationship ended with Hahn, and this wasn’t how you had pictured telling Zuko. If you were being honest, you didn’t think you would ever tell him — but he deserved to know.

“He cheated.” You said the words so easily, so simply that you almost shocked yourself. It shocked Zuko too; you could see his eyes widen slightly from your peripherals.

“Yeah. He cheated on me. That’s how things ended. After everything I put into that relationship, everything I did for him, everything he took from me… I still wasn’t enough for him. I got home from class one day to find him in bed with another girl, and… that was it. Something inside me just snapped. That was my moment of clarity — no yelling, no crying, no… anything. I just left. A friend let me crash at her place, and that night I started the process of transferring here. I made a promise to myself that I would never let someone like Hahn in again, and… well, now we’re here.” You laughed humorlessly and wiped a tear from your eye.

It was like the breath had been stolen from Zuko’s chest. He had never fully understood why you were so reluctant to open up to people, but this explained it. You weren’t someone who gave out love freely, but you had to Hahn — and the way he had treated that love made him sick. He had ingrained in you the ideal that you couldn’t be loved, only tolerated, and that was why you had such a hard time accepting help from anyone. The thought alone made him want to find Hahn and get him back for everything he had done to you. The only thing stopping him was that he didn’t want to leave you alone.

“Y/N,” he muttered. “I had no idea. Katara and Sokka didn’t even know.. Why did you hold all of this in?”

“Because I was scared, Zuko! I got myself into this mess with a stupid boy that everyone had warned me about, so I felt like I had to get myself out. Even when things took a turn for the worse, I felt like I couldn’t involve anyone else because it was my fault. It was my fault for trusting someone like him, it was my fault for believing all of his lies, it was my fault for not being good enough. And even after everything he did to me, a part of me still missed him.” You let out a laugh that was a touch unhinged. “There’s something seriously wrong with me.”

“Y/N, look at me.” You tore your eyes up from the ground and at Zuko — his golden irises looked the same as the first time you met him and it was oddly comforting.

“There is nothing wrong with you. Okay? And I know it’s easier said than done, believe me, I know, but you don’t need to be scared. I understand why you were so hesitant to share what happened with Hahn, but you don’t need to be. I don’t know how much weight my words have, but I want you to know that you can always tell me what is happening with you. Whether it’s a life changing event or just what you did that morning, I’ll listen to you. You aren’t alone, Y/N, because I’m here for you. I always will be.”

Your eyes widened with surprise as you stared into his own. This was the most sincere you had ever seen Zuko, even more than the night he told you about his life. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to kiss him, feel that warmth again, forget about what had happened for just a moment.

But as the familiar prick of incoming tears returned, you knew you couldn’t. You were drunk, on the verge of a complete breakdown, and anything that happened between you tonight would be tainted with the memory of Hahn. So with a concentrated effort, you tore your eyes away from his and swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy from the screaming match you had gotten yourself into.

“I don’t think I can spend another minute here. I hate to ask, but.. can you take me home?” you asked quietly. “You might not be able to tell, but I’m not in a state to do anything right now.”

“Of course.” You gave his hand another squeeze to let him know that he hadn’t overstepped, and stood up. The two of you began the walk back to the car and Zuko let go of your hand, shifting so that he could instead wrap his arm around your back. You smiled softly and leaned your head against his shoulder, the gesture a welcome comfort.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He squeezed your shoulder softly in response, a silent notion that said everything he couldn’t.

Tonight had been a wreck, that much was certain. Your past had resurged in the most painful way possible, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get through it alone.

But you weren’t alone this time. You had Zuko.

And with Zuko by your side… you knew you would be okay.

-

perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

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atla: @marianne1806

[justasimptm]

The Bride C4

My moment of serenity is cut short by three short, sharp claps. The first one makes me jump, having thought I was alone, my eyes cut over to the source of the noise by the second and by the third I’m standing, teeth bared as an aggravated jitter shoots down my spine. In his idiocy, Heisenberg lounges against the courtyard gate. He laughs, holding his hands up in mock surrender before pushing off and taking a few steps closer, moving far enough off the gate to see that he practically made a Heisenberg-shaped hole to come through it.

“Hold your horses, Princess. I just want to talk.” He says, tone relaxed but shoulders tensed, like he thinks I’ll jump at him. Which to be fair, I might.

“Not a Princess, you moron. And I have nothing to discuss with you. You need to leave, and you need to leave now. Without Mother Miranda here to keep you alive there’s nothing to stop us from killing you. Your kind isn’t welcome in our home.” I hiss, backing away from him. If my mother found him here without her permission it would surely end quite messily, and if she found him here with me? I don’t know what she would do. He scoffs, waving an arm wide at the exterior of the Castle.

“She doesn’t leave the safety of her home, you and I both know that. I have nothing to be afraid of,” He tells me, taking two more steps forward, “unless you’re going to try something.” He cocks his head at me, waiting for me to speak or move, but something keeps me frozen. His eyes dart down to the pendant burned into my chest, flickering down my body and back up, when they meet mine again there’s a strange look in them I can’t place.

“You need to leave.” I state firmly, spinning and nearly running towards the door back inside, but a strong hand wraps around my bicep, yanking me backwards until I collide with the solid mass of his body. “Let me go, now,” I gasp, trying to pull away. I’ve never been this close to a man physically, and I know without a doubt my mother would lose her mind if she caught us like this.

“No. Not until you let me talk.” He growls, wrapping his second arm around my torso, effectively trapping me to him. “You hate this don’t you? This life you’re living?” A spike of stress lodges in my brain, was it really that obvious? Was he going to tell? No, that can’t happen. I throw a sharp elbow into his gut, and for a fraction of a second his grip loosens, which is all I need. I force myself to change, from solid to moths, reforming a couple of feet away. The look of surprise is clear on his face, apparently not thinking I would fight back.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. The life I have been given is a gift and I am honored to have received it, and to be able to help Mother Miranda with her trials.” I say, ignoring the tremor in my voice and in my hands, “I can’t expect you to understand, you’ve clearly got your reservations. I, however, am very happy.” His eyes narrow considerably and he makes towards me again but he is soon interrupted.

“Heisenberg, step away from my daughter,” my mothers sharp voice rings out, out of the corner of my eye I see her storming towards us. The sight alone makes me tense, was she going to think I let him in? Clearly realizing he lost his moment, he steps backwards a few steps, putting an arrogant smile on his face as he turns to greet her.

“Alcina, stunning as always. I was just leaving,” He responds, turning away and strutting towards the gate he half destroyed. My mother reaches the spot he had stood within seconds of his departure. I can practically see her skin writhing as she shouts at his retreating back.

“If you ever look at my daughter again, you disgusting thing, I will not hesitate to remove your head from the rest of your body.” Her threat is not idle, and I know for a fact if Mother Miranda wasn’t a factor she wouldn’t have let him leave the courtyard today. He steps back through the hole he created, allowing the metal to fly back into its place. Such a shame that kind of gift was given to a man like that. Faintly I can hear him whistling as he leaves, averting my eyes down to the ground and uneasily picking at my dress. I notice a loose seam that I start tugging on, making a note to get it fixed or have one of the servants get me a new one.

My mothers shoes appear in my line of sight and a gentle hand tips my head up, I don’t force the tears that spring into my eyes. She searches my face for something, looking equally furious and concerned. Her thumb strokes my cheek, drying off the stray drop that had escaped me. Without another word she wraps her arm around my shoulders, leading my shaking from back inside. I know she thinks I’m shaking from my interaction with him, but really it’s because he was right, and I don't know what to do if she believes him.

“Did that terrible man-thing hurt you?” She asks, whipping the door shut behind us, “I’ll have to speak with Mother Miranda about his insolence. He knows better than to do that, to touch you.” She continues spluttering out rants of punishing him. I pause midstep, placing a calming hand on her arm and looking up at her. I smile at her gently, forcing my tremors to still and letting a calm wave of energy ooze from my bones.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you for coming to help me,” I feign a shudder, “I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t get away.” She coos at the weak whimper I let out. “I had been so excited that Mother Miranda asked for my help, he caught me so off guard.” I must sound scared enough bc she nods empathetically, pulling both of my wrists up towards her.

“I will get you something better to protect yourself with. You’ll never have to feel like that again.” She says firmly, nodding to herself surely before releasing me and starting up the stairs. “Get some rest, my dear. You’ve had a very eventful day. I’ll have one of the maids bring you something to eat in a little while.” As she disappears over the top of the walkway I feel all my energy leave me. From putting up a hundred fronts to arguing with my sisters, the drain on my psyche is enormous.

Something nags at my brain, telling me Heisenberg is not finished yet, and that I’ll likely have more to deal with with him. I just hope my instincts are wrong, because I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to stave off him, and the suspicions of my mother at the same time.

Heisenberg’s POV

A grin creeps onto my face as I watch her, her shoulders slumping and her posture dropping from its guarded state. She’s going to be key, even if she won’t admit it yet. I just have to find her pressure point and get her to fold. She’ll be doing what I want in no time.

@foggyturtleknightangel

[black-dragon1998]

Ghost Captain chapter 5

Ghost captain masterlist for previose chapters

Chapter 4 here

Warnings: non at the moment

Natasha and Bucky were left behind dump founded. First, they thought they were going to have to fight but when they found you, you were completely out of it. Then the speedster appeared and took you away within seconds of arriving in the control room, not before taking a drop f their blood. Why would you need that?

“am I the only one confused by that?” Bucky asked. Recovering from her frozen state Natasha walked over to the computer, hoping something was useful was left behind.

“you are not the only one.” She tells Bucky while skimping over the file that was left open, in your hast to get away you had forgotten about the computer. Natasha figured it had something to do with your shocked state. Reading through it she could understand your reaction.

“Bucky I think you’re going to want to read this.” Natasha muttered after reading the whole file. She almost couldn’t phantom the content herself as she waited for Bucky to read the file. The emotions on his face changed when he read through it.

“Natasha, does this mean that she is our…” Bucky couldn’t even finish his sentence, the word sounding so foreign for him but Natasha understood what he wanted to say.

“I don’t know Bucky. I do want to know the answer though. For Stark’s sake, I hope he has the results from that DNA when we get back.” Natasha hissed, being mad at herself. How could she not know she had a child? Not only that but a child with Bucky. HYDRA had done some crazy things but creating a child for the sole purpose of being a weapon they could use for evil took everything they had ever done and multiplied it by ten.

“come on, let’s go back to the tower and start figuring this out.” Bucky whispered in Natasha’s ear, slinging his human arm around her. Even though she would never admit it he knew she could use the comfort right now. Whole her adult life Natasha never thought she would have a legitimate child of her own after the Red Room and then suddenly learning you had a possible child somewhere would put everyone psyche to the test. When the files were put on USB they left the abandoned compound, intend on finding more answers back home and looking for a way to find you.

  You wanted answers and the only place you knew that could give you them was Wakanda. If anybody could amylase those samples fast it would be Shuri, you also knew she wouldn’t lie to you. That is why you immediately set course for Wakanda.

 Wanda stayed close to you the whole flight, Pietro in the meantime informed Zrinka the three of you would be away from a little longer than planned.

“talk to me Lubjeve.” Wanda whispered against your collarbone, cuddling into you to give you the most affection without scaring you. She was afraid if she talked to load she would scare you again. She didn’t like how stiff you had gone the longer the flight took. You got lost in your mind was not an ideal situation for anybody right now.

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know what to think right now.” You confess, gaze never wavering from the spot on the wall you had been fixated on for the past hour.

“then tell what you do know, maybe I can help and putting everything in perspective and help you deal with it.” Wanda knew that sometimes you needed some time to put all your thoughts to move through it.

“I want to believe it you know. It’s the most I have ever found about me before the ghost’s experiments. But accepting that means I also have to accept who they list as my parents and I don’t know if I can deal with that.” The words coming out of your mouth didn’t seem to stop the moment you started. Wanda has always been good at making you confront your thoughts and feelings and not letting you bottle them up.

“what does the file say who your parents are?” Wanda asks taking your mind temporarily from your conflict.

“The file says I was created by combining the DNA of the Winter Soldier and The Black Widow” you let the information hang in the air for a bit, both with yourself and with Wanda. Wanda seemed to be faster to accept it than you were.

“Okay that is a lot to take in but would it be so bad of an outcome? At some level, I can see it.” Wanda commented, making you gawk at her, how could she be so okay with this so fast.

“We know they were once a part of HYDRA before they joined the Avengers, they were their strongest assets before deflecting. So it only seems normal that they are your parents to create this beautiful person in front of me.” Wanda smiles sweetly while stroking your cheek. You couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her.

“you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I don’t know what I would do without you.” You whisper against her lips before kissing her again. The moment is broken however when Pietro announces that the jet is about to land at the palace and that T’challa and Shuri are waiting.

“come on, let’s get some answers so when can put your mind at ease and we can figure out what to do next.” Wanda says squeezing your knee, getting up and pulling you up with her. You slump into her, taking in her scent to help calm you down. You wanted to know and you didn’t want to know at the same time.

Before the door opened you put on a neutral face, you may have a good relationship with the royal family of Wakanda, T’challa didn’t have the best relationship with the Winter Soldier after he killed the former king. Things could get awkward when Bucky Barnes turned out to be our father. Walking of the bridge you were immediately greeted by Shuri, T’challa and their mother.

 When Shuri saw the three of you she squealed and ran toward Wanda and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Wanda, Pietro, (Y/N) I’m so glad to see all of you again. That last batch of Vibranium was the last one missing and we have everything back now.” Shuri kept on talking in the same upbeat tone.

You didn’t dislike Shuri, you quite liked her but her upbeat mood was exhausting and you just couldn’t keep up with her for very long because she gave you a headache after a while. Wanda liked to talk to Shuri, she doesn’t have the chance to speak with girls around her age very often. So you liked to give her every opportunity she wanted to have.

Before you and Pietro were acknowledge again by the genius, T’challa and his mother had already left and the four of you were already back at the girl’s lap. She and Wanda were gossiping the entire time. Pietro looked at you and smirked making kissy faces at you, trying to tell you how whipped you were for his sister. Knowing she is the only person I would let you tell what to was Wanda. You punched him in mock anger and soon the two of you were locked into a wrestling matching rolling around the floor.

Wanda and Shuri looked at the scene in front of them and Wanda couldn’t help but shake her head. She lived with children but she loved the both of you and wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Are they always like this?” Shuri asked Wanda as she looks at you and Pietro trading upper position every few moments. Giggling while she did.

“Unfortunately yes. I live with children.” Wanda said chuckling joining Shuri. This made you and Pietro look up, a little offended at her words.

“hey!” Pietro and you said at the same time, looking at the two girls with your best puppy dog eyes. Instead of summoning the sympathy the two of you wanted the two girls just laughed. After composing yourself and hauling Pietro up you went down to business.

“So why have the three of you come here? None of you are known to make social visits, alto I hope you would do it more often. Life is so dull around here.” Shuri says after you settle down next to Wanda, Pietro loitering around.

“I have a favour to ask off you Shuri.” You say in a sincere tone, taking the two drops of blood samples out of your pocket and handing them over to the young genius.

“I would like you to run a DNA test on these drops of blood samples and compare them to mine.” Shuri immediately sobbers up, taking the samples from you and getting to work immediately. Leaving you and the twins to your own devices.

   Natasha and Bucky were anxious to get back to the tower. Even after reading the file, Natasha’s head was filled with ‘what if's. after she had settled down with the Avengers and her and Bucky had entered into a serious relationship, she had wondered what life would have been having she not gone through the Red Room graduation. She had never gotten her hopes up until she read your file.

There was a small possibility that she had a daughter, a daughter with Bucky. It was a thought she hadn’t placed yet, so she did what she did best. She buried her emotions until she had definitive evidence to prove or disprove them.

 Bucky also didn’t know how to feel about the whole daughter thing but he had seen Natasha gone cold on the flight home. Instead of breaking his head over it, he decided to comfort Natasha until they had answers. Then he would see how he felled over all of this. For now, he would look after Natasha by engulfing her in his embrace and pulling him closer into his chest.

“what are we going to do if this information is true?” Natasha's voice sounded gruff with unshed emotions.

“I don’t know Nat. let’s first test the DNA and go from there. If it’s real then we find her. I don’t think she knows herself, HYDRA isn’t big on sharing with their assets. Maybe if we talk to her we can convince them we like to get to know them.” Bucky spoke, even if he wasn’t sure of his own words he had hope.

After he had gotten his memories back, became an Avengers and started something with Natasha he wanted a family. Now that the opportunity presented itself it scared him.

 The moment the couple arrived back at the tower and walked into the building, they were met by an excited Tony Stark.

“what the matter Stark. I’m not in the mood for long scientific explanations right now.” Natasha says, dragging a heavy hand over her face. Feeling the exhaustion of the last hours. Not noticing, or wanting to notice how agitated The Black Widow was tony dragged the two former assassins toward his lab.

There on his 3D monitor are 3 DNA strands projected. Natasha and Bucky take a seat around the projection as Tony takes one of his tablets and starts pushing in buttons.

“Why are we here Stark?” Bucky asked. This seemed to encourage Tony and she started talking.

“So after the two of you left, I and Bruce inspected the DNA we got from ‘The Captain’s ‘clothes. First, we compared it against every known database of SHIELD to see if they encountered her in the past before. We also observed the DNA itself, to see if it was modified and boy was it.” Tony rambled on, getting on Natasha’s nerves the more he talked.

“get to the point Stark.” Natasha cut him off and levelled him with one of her glares. That seemed to sober up the billionaire.

“right. So the databases didn’t match anything. Then I set it to anything lower than 100% comparison. We got two hits.” Bucky and Natasha held their breath as the answer they had been waiting for the whole journey home were about to be answered.

“it seems the match was with the two of you. So I guess you have a daughter, congratulations?” Tony says, making some kind of jazz hands.

  “it seems the DNA you gave me matched you for 50% to Natasha and Bucky from the Avengers. So I guess you are related.” Shuri tells you. Letting you the breath you were holding, not knowing if you should be happy or not.

Chapter 6

Taglist:

@username23345

[herinsectreflection]

Faith, Buffy, Dreams, and Secret Kisses

This is one of my favourite scenes in the series. Partially because it’s just my personal jam - I admit that I am Fuffy trash, and I have a real love for dream sequences. Buffy had great dream sequences, but this is where they take a step up. It’s a precursor to Restless in this regard and others. It feels weighty and meaningful, but also a little off and incongruent with itself, in that way that only dreams are. Lines are exchanged that don’t quite follow as direct responses to each other, clashing in interesting ways. It’s packed with foreshadowing, metaphor, and other juicy things. And beyond that, it’s a conclusion to Buffy’s entire arc this season about dealing with her shadow self, and it leads to what I think is the single most romantic moment in the series. I want to talk about this scene and unpack some of what I think it’s saying.

First of all, let’s talk about the setting. We’re in Faith’s apartment, bought for her by the Mayor. Essentially, the villain’s lair, where the two Big Bads plotted their evil plans against our hero. But it’s also a set where we saw most of the bonding and semi-familial love between Faith and the Mayor. A place of both evil and love. And for Buffy, a place of trauma. This is where she makes the decision and takes the action to kill another human. I don’t think she was unjustified in doing so, but it’s still an immensely traumatic act for her, and I think she loses a little part of herself when she does it. The location is very much a reflection of Faith, and Buffy’s relationship to her. I don’t think Buffy loves Faith romantically at this point, but I think she cares about her, and remains concerned about her, and I think it’s fair to call that a kind of love. Faith is also evil, a figure of betrayal but also temptation to the “dark side”. And she is also a figure of trauma, clear deep-seated trauma that she fails to resolve, and just gets worse over the course of the season. Buffy is essentially inside her own relationship to Faith, inside a stadium of sin, trauma, love, and shattered glass. Faith looks out of the broken window that they fought through, and we are reminded that their relationship too is broken, unrepaired, littered with the detritus of conflict. There’s no going back from this - even in dreams that window remains broken, and their relationship will always have this damage.

The props too are an interesting choice. TPN’s video on Graduation Day pointed out the painting of a giant snake with a man’s head on the wall. More conflicting feelings here - the Mayor is Faith’s closest connection to humanity and love right now, and also the reason for her betrayal of Buffy. Her redemption and damnation. We also see boxes of various things piled up - including the crossbow that Faith stole in Bad Girls. The image of packing up a room into boxes makes me think of moving away as a student. We must remember that Buffy is graduating today, on the verge of packing her life away and taking it somewhere else, and this reminds us of that.

The first thing of real substance we see is the cat, which jumps up on Faith’s bed. This is one of the aspects of this dream in direct conversation with Restless, where a cat symbolises the Slayer - a specifically feminine, solitary predator that stalks the night. In Restless, we cut to Miss Kitty stalking the camera from shots of the First slayer stalking Willow. Here though, the intercut images are between the cat and Faith, lying bruised and helpless in a hospital. The cat (and the Slayer) is, as far as Buffy is concerned, not a danger but a creature in need of help.

Buffy: "Who's going to look after him?" Faith: "It's a she. And aren't these things supposed to take care of themselves?"

They’re very clearly talking about their respective approaches to slaying, and to life in general. Buffy tries to encourage ties to humanity, telling Faith back in Revelations that she is on Faith’s side. Faith retorts that she alone is on her side, and she repeats that sentiment here. But Buffy is obviously proved right - Faith is lying almost dead because she rejected all help and care.

Buffy: "A higher power guiding us?" Faith: "I'm pretty sure that's not what I meant."

If the cat is the Slayer in this conversation, then the “higher power guiding us” could refer to the Watchers. It makes sense that Buffy delivers this line with a little wry smile, given that she’s just resigned herself from the Council. This allows a little bit of ambiguity in their debate - Buffy has taken on a little bit of Faith’s advice in emancipating herself and so making herself as the Slayer more self-reliant. The show agrees that that too is the right move. A little independence is good and healthy. What Faith means when she talks about “taking care of herself” is not self-reliance or independence, but emotional hardness and self-marooning to avoid hurt. This is something that Buffy will continue to struggle with for the rest of the series. Faith is kind of right when she states that the Slayer is alone and must take care of herself, and it’s up to Buffy to find a healthy way of dealing with that.

"Oh yeah. Miles to go - Little Miss Muffet counting down from 7-3-0.”

The scene shifts a little, and we get some foreshadowing for Dawn (Little Miss Muffet), and for Buffy’s death (730 days from now). This is done with the the lighting too, as Faith faces the camera, and the light of the dawn hits her face, in a shot extremely similar to the end of The Gift.

Interestingly, Faith is repeatedly used in this way. In This Year’s Girl, Faith talks about “little sis coming” as she and Buffy make the bed in her first dream. In Restless, that scene gets a callback (”Faith and I just made that bed”), in a scene that ends with the most anvilicious foreshadowing (”Be back before dawn”), as well as a callback to the 7-3-0 line (”Oh, that clock’s all wrong”). In Graduation Day, Faith refers to Buffy as being “dressed up in big sister’s clothes”, however to me Faith has always felt more as being the “little sister” in this relationship. She looks up to Buffy yet is also deeply jealous of her. She wants to be Buffy, to have her friends, her life, the love of her mother. She’s kind of a precursor to Dawn in this respect, so it makes sense that she’s a prophet for her coming.

Slayers having prophetic dreams is well-established, so it makes sense that a dream shared by two slayers would allow them to prophesise a little further ahead in time. Faith hints at this, remarking "Sorry, it's my head. A lot of new stuff.". You have to wonder what other “new stuff” Faith is becoming aware of. Perhaps a new perspective on everything Buffy’s been saying all season. Sharing a mind temporarily is often helpful in seeing another’s point of view. Faith does seem unusually thoughtful as she looks out of the broken window and remarks "They are never going to fix this, are they?".

This is perhaps my favourite line in the scene. It’s a slight mislead, as it comes right as we get a flash of the cat-as-Faith in the foreground. So we assume it’s a reference to her own injuries, which she is expected to never recover from.

But the Faith that’s talking isn’t looking at her own body. She’s looking at the broken window. The symbol for her broken relationship with Buffy. She has become us, the audience, looking at Buffy and Faith and saying “boy, those crazy kids really are never going to work it out, are they?”. It’s true for Faith, it’s true for Faith&Buffy, and it’s true for Buffy herself. When that knife entered Faith’s gut, all three were irrevocably changed forever. You can never put back the life you had before after it’s broken like that. All you can do is take what you can work with, and try to make something new.

Buffy: "What about you?" Faith: "Scar tissue. It fades. It all fades." Buffy confirms that the previous line was not about Faith specifically by asking “what about you”, in a lovely expression of concern. After everything, Buffy does still care about Faith. Faith’s reply of “scar tissue” is an obvious reference to the literal wound she is now carrying (emphasised by the shot of the knife that Buffy sees afterwards), but it’s interesting that she gestures to her face when she says this. It feels like a reference to her entire self. If we accept Faith as Buffy’s shadow self, then “scar tissue” is an accurate description of her. As Buffy herself says, Faith is who she could be if her life was worse (or, perhaps, who she would be if she allowed the tragedies of her life to rule her). She is the part of Buffy’s unconscious self that is revealed after receiving violence. She is the physical proof of trauma. The self that remains after pain. 

Buffy: “Is this your mind or mine?” Again, hitting that note of symbiosis; emphasising how inextricably tied these two characters are. The lines between their psyches are blurred to the point of no longer existing. This is such an intimate moment, almost sexual, with Buffy and Faith unable to tell where their own mind ends and another begins. Imagine the intimacy of that - entering another’s mental space and allowing them into yours, so wholly that they become one and the same. It becomes a mutual recognition of unity and shared pain, and an affirmation of the eternal divisions between them.

I love the ambiguity of the “human weakness” line too. One way we are invited to read it is that Faith is doing a heel-face turn, and intentionally giving Buffy the means to defeat the Mayor. But we’re not allowed anything that easy, to wash away Faith’s sins with a quick redemption before the climax. Faith has miles to go before she can achieve that. It’s just as likely that Faith is talking about herself, and the human weakness that led her down a dark path, or that Buffy is talking about Faith through the Faith in her head, or Buffy is just working it out on her own, etc, etc. This is the information that saves the world, and I like that it remains an unknown. A permanent “maybe”, just as Buffy and Faith’s relationship is. 

Buffy: "How are you going to fit all this stuff?" Faith: "Not gonna. It's yours." Buffy: "I can't use all of this!" Faith: "Just take what you need. You're ready?"

As the scene reaches its climax, we see the most obvious recitation of the season’s themes. S3 is about Buffy coming into conflict with her own shadow self, and here the show tells us how she does that - by taking what she needs. I mentioned earlier that we saw the crossbow from Bad Girls, from the “want/take/have” scene. Here, Faith is telling her the same thing, but in a more healthy way. She cannot just hedonistically consume everything like a crazed id-monster, but she also cannot deny herself things that she needs. 

Most importantly, the “stuff” they are referring to is Faith’s, but as Faith says, it’s also Buffy’s. Everything that Faith is, Buffy is too, because she is her shadow self. Buffy must recognise this, accept it, and incorporate the shadow self into her own identity. She cannot be consumed by the shadow self and simply become Faith, allowing her shadow to consume her conscious personality (”how are you going to fit all this stuff?”). Instead she must recognise her dark mirror, and take the healthy parts, and integrate them into herself as an individual (”take what you need”).

It is at this point of healing and merging between Buffy’s self and shadow self that Faith reaches out, almost touches her in an action that feels so tender, and Buffy becomes conscious. She literally becomes her conscious self by making peace with her dream (unconscious self). She stands up, and walks over to Faith’s bed. This is the moment that their relationship all season has been leading to. She leans over, and places a kiss on her forehead.

This kiss is everything. It’s an act of thanks, as Buffy realises Faith may have given her what she needs to save the day (at the cost of Faith’s one familial figure). It is an act of service, as Buffy literally gives Faith the kiss she asked for when they started to fight in Graduation Day. It could also be an act of forgiveness. We know from I Only Have Eyes For You that forgiveness, Buffy learns, is done not because somebody deserves it, but because they need it. Faith at this point probably does not deserve it, does not want forgiveness (she wants to be punished), nor can she recognise it in her current state, but Buffy gives it anyway, adding another layer of heartbreak. It is given not for any purpose, but for its own sake.

Above all though, this is an act of recognition. We must consider the previous forehead-kiss that these two shared, back in Enemies, and Faith’s words directly before: “What are you gonna do, B, kill me? You become me. You're not ready for that, yet.” And in Graduation Day, just after Buffy stabs her: “You did it. You killed me.” And her words in the dream, just a few seconds ago: “You're ready?"

Now I don’t think that Buffy stabbing Faith to save Angel is morally equivalent to Faith voluntarily killing people to help an evil guy become a big snake. I don’t think the show wants us to think that either. But the line is firmly blurred. Angel says in Consequences that the act of taking a life will change Faith irrevocably, and Faith agrees. She sees herself as tainted from that point on, and if Buffy took her life, she would be tainted too. And though it’s understandable and morally defensible, there’s no doubt that a part of Buffy - her innocence - dies on that balcony when she sticks that knife in. That act is forever. The choice to do violence is permanent. 

So when Faith says “you killed me”, she is saying “you have become me”. She identifies a common nature in them. And when Buffy kisses her, returning it in the exact same way as when Faith first said those words, she is saying “I know”. She recognises and responds to Faith’s mirror by holding up one of her own. She matches similarity with similarity. She is finally “ready” to assimilate her shadow self, and does it by telling her shadow self that she sees her, and that she was right. 

The beautiful part of all this is that it is silent. Faith would’ve been aware of their unification in the dreamscape, since it was happening in both of their heads, but she has no way of knowing about this. I wonder if Buffy would ever tell her. I doubt it. This is the core of the Faith/Buffy tragedy. This is why I find this relationship so compelling. Buffy performs this act of recognition and devotion entirely in secret. It is a stolen kiss and a private confession. A whisper made to a sleeping lover. A letter written, sealed, stamped, and set on fire. It is an act of love and tenderness made entirely for its own sake, without witness or reward. 

This is the single most romantic moment of the show for me. In this show that in many ways about how when nothing you do matters, all that matters is what you do, what could be more romantic than this gentle kiss that changes nothing against this aching hole of violence and betrayal between them, but exists anyway, just because Buffy felt it needed to be done. It’s a silent moment that nobody but Buffy and us are privy to. Neither Faith nor the rest of the world will ever know it happened, but I know I for one will never forget.