i need my mother to come back and stop me from making horrible life choices

You’re Anorexic

*Trigger warning 

A/N: This was a very difficult piece for me to write. Please keep in mind that I am no professional and, by any means, mean no offense to anybody with eating disorders. If any part of this imagine is offensive or taken personally, please message me.

If you are suffering through something this fatal, please contact help as soon as possible. 

- masterlist linked in bio


Time.

It’s a funny concept for Y/n. Between every hour and every minute of the day, there lays a purpose. Every second counts, whether it determines the rest of your life or destroys what’s left of it. For those, time goes quickly or barely passes at all- has no beginning nor end.

It’s relied heavily on, because we all die one day or another, unexpectedly or anticipated, and if a second of time is wasted, it haunts us until our dying days.

Time is the one true consistency in everyone’s life.

When Y/n was younger, time meant everything. She counted the days till her birthday, counted down the seconds to the new year, and dated every special event she could think of. She believed that every second of her life mattered so greatly, that everything she had once known could change in a blink of an eye. Days were filled with bliss, anticipation for what the future held for her. Because she wasn’t getting any younger, and all she could think about how she was one second- a millisecond, even- away from her life giving her a new purpose.

It wasn’t until summer of 2012 when all of her greatest expectations were destroyed in a blink of an eye.

Y/n lost her father.

It happened so suddenly, an unexpected collision during the early hours of the morning. Y/n was home at the time, locked away in her room because she had an argument with him earlier on that night. Because the money situation was tight, it was impossible for Y/n to attend her top choice university. She insisted that she’d take out loans from the bank and pay every bit of tuition herself, but he refused.

She felt as if all her time and effort has been wasted. Of course, there were other schools, but Y/n was too stubborn and so set on attending this university that they didn’t matter half as much as the one she worked for.

She spewed out words she didn’t mean, anger and frustration boiling up inside of her. She had worked so hard for this moment- had worked so hard to make her parents and herself proud, but it all blew up in her face. She had never been so upset before, and it was the first time in a while she started to raise her voice and cry to try and get her way. She would have done anything, even if it meant insulting her father.

He pleaded for her to settle down, because no matter where she ended up, she’d always make him proud. But she wasn’t having it.

“I never want to talk to you again.”

Of course she didn’t mean it, but she just felt so betrayed. And because of how sensitive she was, she knew the grudge she was holding against him was going to last a while.

Already late for his meeting, he sighed and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead, the way he always did whenever they were in an argument. It was to show that he still loved her, that he’ll always love her, even when times seemed rough.

“I’m so sorry, love bug. We’ll discuss this with your mother once I get back from my meeting.“

It wasn’t until a couple hours later her mom called her.

She was sobbing, her words jumbled and breath so harsh Y/n could barely understand a word she was saying. All she managed to hear was “your father” and “car accident,” and it was all she needed to understand that her father hadn’t made it. He was never going to come back home.

Y/n spent the next couple of months trying to cope with his loss. She didn’t understand what it meant to lose somebody forever, she never experienced that kind of pain before. It was too much for her, living without her father and watching her mother slowly turn into a lifeless woman.

The only way to cope with all of the pain was to stop eating.

She didn’t know exactly how it helped, but it did. She saw it as a punishment against herself, for saying such horrible things to her father and having him believe she truly never wanted to speak to him again. She didn’t blame herself for his loss, but she carried a horrendous amount of guilt upon herself. So, she began to skip meals, which wasn’t hard because she could barely stomach the thought of food while she was as depressed as she was. And what started off as a coping mechanism turned into something much more fatal.

Now, time means nothing to her, filled with an empty void. Every minute is another minute of being alone- another minute closer to her end. She sits, stares at the wall clock hung perfectly in Ms. Carter’s office, and watches as it passes with every breath she takes.

“Y/n..” Ms. Carter mumbles, looking down at her watch to calculate just how much time has been wasted since their session began.

“Are you ever going to speak?” she questions with an exasperated sigh, long past her patience because all of their recent sessions have consisted of unanswered questions and the same dismal look displayed on Y/n’s face.

Y/n makes no effort to answer her. Her legs stay crossed indian-style in front of her, picking at a hangnail that’s been bothering her the past couple of days. She hasn’t moved since the appointment started, staying in the same position as Ms. Carter asked her questions Y/n was hardly paying attention to.

She’s well aware she’s wasting Ms. Carter’s time. She could be guiding other clients toward the help they need, or simply listening to someone’s troubles other than the horns honking outside and the agonizing sound of the clock ticking further toward the next hour.

Hell, she’s even convinced that she’d be wasting her own time, as well, if it weren’t for the emptiness in her heart. This is the only place Y/n has somebody. Everyone in her life left her, unable to deal with the constant struggle of her eating disorder. Her family, friends, boyfriends; all of them had left her. What was once an attempt to help Y/n recover from her disorder turned into a part time job for them; a constant occupation in their lives to deal with her.

If it was their choice, they probably would have left sooner than they did. But they all gave her pity, only remaining in her life because they felt another person leaving her would push her to the edge- would push her into something far more fatal. Some left without a word, others left with a rehearsed speech about how they didn’t want to see her suffer, that they couldn’t bare the sight of her bones sticking from her body. They couldn’t help her anymore, because they didn’t understand, and they barely have their own lives figured out, so how could they figure out hers? They finished their speeches with a sympathetic apology, saying that they’d still be there for her if she needed them. But they didn’t mean it. She knew they didn’t mean it.

A year and a half into her disorder, with nobody by her side, with not a soul left to help her recover, someone saved her.

Harry.

When he started to get to know her- to listen to her story- he had never felt more remorse for somebody the way he had with her. Such a beautiful and sweet woman has been torturing herself for years all because of the amount of guilt she had at such a young age. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she’s been through, all the pain and hardship she’s endured throughout er life.

She was so lovely, as well, he fell in love with her the moment she started opening up to him. It was easy for the both of them, to talk to one another, simply because there was instant connection none of them could deny. They fit into each other’s lives perfectly, as if filling up the emptiness they both had.

Harry dedicated every part of his life to her, with not a single complaint hanging from his lips. He loved her in ways nobody else had loved her before. He showed it by staying with her, through all the horrible battles she faced. He was patient with her, putting up with her fight against food and reassuring her when she wanted to throw it all up. He was there every step toward her recovery and every step toward her relapses.

It took a long while for her to finally recover. She was eating again; she was healthy again. Her skin glowed with an olive undertone, hair so soft Harry found it irresistible not to touch. Her once twisted thoughts altered to an optimistic mindset. The once beautiful girl he once known developed into an ethereal woman, convinced he was going to spend the rest of his faithful life with her.

If it weren’t for Harry, she wouldn’t have recovered. When he came into her life, she made every promise to herself and to Harry that she would overcome this. She’d continue her battle for them, because she now had a reason to fight. Her love for Harry pushed her to be the woman she became. He changed her- he saved her.

But a year into her recovery, something changed between them.

Something changed in him.

She never felt his love like she used to. He was barley there for her. When he’d come home from work, he wouldn’t call out for her anymore. Even though they were together, she began to feel lonely again. Y/n was convinced he had stopped loving her. She stayed up countless nights, without him, wondering what she did wrong. He didn’t hold her anymore, not like he used to. Before, he’d always hold her, because his arms were her sanctuary and his chest was a bed made specially for her head. His lips only lingered on her cheek or forehead, not in the way they used to. Before, he’d always kiss her lips, because he said he swore his lips were compelled to love hers and said he was always hungry for her love. She fell asleep feeling empty, not in the way she had before. Before, amongst falling asleep, he’d be inside of her, hips colliding with hers because he praised her, and said he’d never love the way he loved her.

But it all ended so suddenly, there was no warning.

She began to feel what she felt with everyone else- neglected.

She felt it was because she recovered. When she was battling her disorder, he loved her because he felt he had to. She had nobody else. Her family had given up on her, her friends left her, and she was left with absolutely nothing. He came at a time she needed someone most. At that point, she was prepared to die, there was no helping it. He was her lifeline, her only dependency, and that’s why he had stopped loving her. He didn’t need to love her anymore.

“I- I don’t quite know what to say.” Y/n mumbles.

She wishes she could tell Ms. Carter everything about it. She wishes she could talk to her like she was supposed to; trust her and open up to her to help her with her recovery. But if she does, she knows Ms. Carter would have to take her to a rehabilitation center. And Y/n wanted absolutely nothing to do with that.

Ms. Carter nods, lips pursing as she places her notebook down of her wooden coffee table. She crosses her legs and arms, back moving to rest upon the black velvet seat she always sits in during her sessions.

“Then why do you come to me, Y/n?” she asks softly, watching as Y/n moves her eyes slowly to her. “If you don’t know what to say, why are you here?”

She shrugs, arms moving to hug her knees to her chest. She rests her chin gently on her knee cap, eyes trained on the window directly in front of her. She watches as cars move during the rush hour, people walking on the sidewalks with a premeditated destination. She envies those who thrive, for she lacks motivation to accomplish her ambitions.

“This is all I have.”

Ms. Carter blinks at her confession, interlocking her fingers together while nodding her head.

She knows Y/n has been different the past couple months. Normally, Y/n talks about her relationship with Harry, how he’s been her biggest step toward her recovery. She talked about how great she’d feel, but was, nonetheless, worried she’ll eventually relapse and disappoint him.

Ms. Carter has had suspicions that Y/n is going through another relapse. However, she knew that if she was, that Harry was by her side at home. It was one of the many reasons she hadn’t taken major actions to help her through it. She knew Harry would do her more help than her, but Y/n kept scheduling appointments that she couldn’t deny.

“And what about Harry?” She asks timidly, “Is he helping you through this time, Y/n?”

Y/n’s eyes flutter shut at his name. Her hands shake as her fingers pull down the sleeves of her sweatshirt, tugging them all the way so that her hands are completely covered by the material.

“Not anymore.” She whispers.

Y/n’s eyes divert to Ms. Carter’s cautious gaze. Her mouth is slightly parted, almost shocked at the confession she made. Ms. Carter knows the only thing that guided her was Harry. He was her rock and support through her entire fight, and with the possibility of his departure comes the possibility of Y/n going back to where it all began.

“Are you- are you still eating, Y/n?”

Her eyes go back to the window.

Another question left unanswered.


The weather outside is making Harry miserable. So miserable, in fact, he’s refused to move from his spot on the couch for the past four hours.

The house is dark for the mid-afternoon, the gloomy weather making it nearly feel like a funeral home. With no motivation to go outside and finding it oddly comfortable to wallow, he can’t help but to keep his eyes trained on the television show playing in front of him. It’s Y/n’s favorite show- one they watched nearly every Saturday afternoon because that’s when CW aired the marathon.

He still watches it every Saturday. A part of him can’t let the tradition go. He’s somehow convinced himself that maybe, just maybe, she couldn’t, either, and they are some how both watching it at the same time in two different places. Gemma tells him that she probably does the same, as well, but he should try to move on from her; that staying in the house and only doing things that remind him of her is going to edge him to insanity. But oddly, consuming his days with things that remind him of her keep him as sane as he can possibly be.

He sighs, clammy fingers tugging at the roots of his hair as he looks down at his phone for what must have been the twentieth time today. His thumb hovers over her contact number, twitching as he begins to contemplate whether to call her or not. It’s been months since he’s seen her, let alone talked to her. Every second without knowing how she’s doing kills him more and more each time.

To say Harry’s been worried is an understatement. He’s completely petrified.

For the past couple of years, Harry has been through it all with Y/n. He’s seen her at her worst, was there to witness her greatest and most disastrous downfalls and stood by her side during her most amazing recoveries. He’s seen her in all her forms of terrible glory, with bones sticking from her skin and bruises covering her arms and legs. He’s watched her as people began to leave her one by one- a bystander of a broken girl being neglected by her loved ones. He’s seen her fantasize about her end and watched as pain settled in her eyes.

And he just can’t shake the feeling that everything Y/n has built up to her recovery has been knocked down again.

He can’t stomach the thought of her looking the way she did when they first met. He doesn’t even want to think about what she’s been putting herself up against since his departure.

For the first month after their breakup, Harry had called Y/n everyday to make sure she was eating properly. He’d call her before bed, asking numerous questions about her diet and her therapy sessions. What did you eat today? How much did you eat? Was Ms. Carter nice? How are you feeling? It was a routine that was able to keep both of them sane during their separation.

It didn’t last long, however, when Y/n started to finally realize she wasn’t able to move on. Between the constant reminder that she didn’t have anybody there for her anymore and his constant phone calls, she found it impossible to move on from him.

Y/n also began to feel upset that Harry had broke things off with her but still had the audacity to call her. She understood what he was doing. She understood that he was showing her that he still cared and worried for her, but the fact that the only effort he had put into taking care of her was through a phone call made Y/n feel like a charity case.


“I just can’t do this anymore, Harry” she muttered softly to the phone, her fingers halfheartedly fiddling with the corner of the duvet, “You can’t keep calling me when we aren’t dating.”

His heart fell to the pit of his stomach. Calling her before bed was a routine to him now. Talking to her was able to keep him sane, because he was getting the reassurance he needed to know she was doing okay.

In all honesty, he didn’t know if he could go a day without talking to her. Without her updating him, he knows he’d spend every second of his day worrying about her health and how she’d be keeping up with herself.

The phone calls were also the bit of her he had left. If he were to stop calling her, all he’d have left is her empty side of the bed, and he needed more than that. He needed more of her.

“But you need to see that I still care for you, Y/n” he whispers brokenly, “that I’ll always be here to make sure you’re alright.”

“But how do you think that makes me feel?!”

Her voice was higher than usual, a tone she very rarely used with him because he never gave her a reason to be angry. But now, after him calling off their relationship but still having the audacity to call her made her sick to her stomach.

“If you still cared, if you still wanted me, you’d be with me right now! You’re not making any effort to care for me, Harry! Calling me doesn’t mean anything because you’re not here!

He shut his eyes at her words, a pang of guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks. He would be there with her if he had a choice, but their relationship wasn’t working out in both of their favors. In the midst of her getting her life back and him settling in a new job, it was very hard for them to keep up with each other. It was especially hard for him to keep up with her because she seemed to be so content in her new life that he almost felt unwanted.

He still loved her, but he felt like she didn’t want him anymore. She had recovered because of him, and because she didn’t have to rely on him in the way he was used to, he felt useless in her life. And no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t true, that she still wanted and needed him, it still broke him apart.

“You know our relationship wasn’t working out for us and-“

No,” she cut him off, teeth clenching out of frustration, “our relationship wasn’t working out for you. You felt no need to love me anymore, so you left me just like everybody else.”

Harry’s jaw clenches as she speaks, head thrashing wildly side to side, because it’s not true. Everything she thinks, everything he’s made her come to believe isn’t true, and he wants nothing more than to try to make her understand that he’ll always be in love with her. That he’ll always be there for her because he can’t image a day without loving her the way she deserves.

“Y/n, baby, how could you say tha-“

“You need to stop calling me,” she cries, “you’re either a part of my life or you aren’t. There’s no middle ground for you to be in. That’s not fair to me. It’s either you care for me and love me or you don’t.”

Harry’s breath was harsh against the speaker, fists clenched together as he tries to wrap his head around the situation he’s put in.

The hesitation in his answer was enough for her heart to break. The silence between her words and his answer spoke louder than anything he could possibly say to her.

She couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t surprised this is how their story ended. Everyone has already gave up on her, it was only a certain amount of time before Harry realizes how easy a life would be without her. She just didn’t want to believe it.

“I get it, Harry” she whispers, sniffling as she runs her wrist along the tip of her nose. “Goodbye.“


He’s been doing this everyday, worrying and contemplating on what he should do. He wishes more than anything to be with her the way she deserved, and wishes even more that he had never left her in the first place. He knows calling her would make her angry because she’s made it clear she felt hurt every time she did so, but he also knows not calling her isn’t fair, either.

He understands how wrong it sounds to leave his anorexic girlfriend of three years, but he felt it was best for the both of them at the time. But now, after months of her out of his life with no other connections to hear from her, he realized how stupid he was to convince himself that.

He’s completely devastated without her.

Living without Y/n wasn’t living at all. The life he experienced with her was incomparable to the one he’s been experiencing without her. She’s the love of his life, she’s the woman who showed him what it truly meant to love and care for someone so much. Of course, being with her wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but loving her was. That’s what made them so real. Their relationship was filled with struggles, messes, and tears, but they were still in love with each other regardless. It was their ability to fight together that pulled them through their most difficult times.

“Jesus, Y/n.” He whispers to himself, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Harry’s thumb presses on the cancel button, letting out a shaky breath as he does so. He feels a tear slowly fall down his cheek, which he’s quick to wipe away with the back of his hand when he hears the front door swing open.

“Afternoon, H!” Gemma greets, hands filled with grocery bags as she stumbles through the front door.

“Bought us some sandwiches. Turkey chipotle sandwiches, to be exact. Figured we could just watch some shows today? The weather is a fucking disaster, it’s making me moody.”

Harry nods speechlessly, his fingers toying with his upper lip. His eyes divert to Gemma’s struggling figure for just a couple seconds before his attention is back on Y/n’s contact.

“Yeah, yeah sounds fine.” He mutters distractedly.

Gemma’s eyebrows furrow in concern over his melancholy tone, placing the grocery bags lazily on the kitchen counter before making her way toward Harry’s slumped figure.

She bites her lower lip at the look of her distraught brother, who’s clearly shown no improvement since his breakup with Y/n. She’s aware that he blames himself for their breakup and that he spends every waking hour of his day worrying about her. No matter how hard she tries to help him through this struggle in his life, there’s always a part of him that will always feel a sense of protection over her.

He’s a wreck, and no matter how many times he tries to deny it, there were numerous nights Gemma would find Harry staring at her contact during the earliest hours in the morning with helpless tears building in his eyes. She’d even hear him mutter apologies to himself, as if rehearsing a speech to say if he ever found the strength to call her.

Who could really blame him, though?

“You okay?” she asks timidly, already knowing his answer but still finding it in her heart to ask.

She would do anything for him- anything to help him. Hell, she’s tried everything. She’s tried to talk to him alone whenever she found him in his darkest hour, even made him cups of tea to help settle his brain. She bought him a journal, in hopes that writing down his feelings will help him recover in the slightest. She even scheduled him for an in-home therapy session, but every bit of her attempts never budged him. He was still the same mess of a man he has been since the day he left Y/n.

Harry looks up at her, nodding his head feverishly when he sees the concerned look on her face.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he coughs, looking back down at his phone, “Just haven’t checked up on her in a while. Kinda worried.“

Gemma raises her eyebrows at him, unconvinced.

Kind of worried?” she questions, occupying the space on the couch next to him. Her hand reaches up to his forehead to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, which slowly moves to his back in attempt to relieve his tense muscles.

“You’re sweating.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, his hand reaching to the back of his neck. He nods his head, lips pursing together as he tries to hold back the emotions he’s feeling.

“I feel like she stopped eating and it’s just- it’s just something I can’t stop thinking about, you know? I can’t live in peace when it’s all my head wanders off to.”

Gemma nods her head, her fingers squeezing the skin of his shoulder as a way to reassure that she’s here for him.

She feels awful about how much blame Harry’s been putting on himself the past couple of months. It’s beginning to take a major toll on him, he can barely include himself in day-to-day activities without getting lost in his thoughts. His once well-put-together form has seemed to turn effortless, not cared for in the way it once was. He’s become so disconnected,, she can’t deny the overwhelming concern she’s had for him for the past couple of months.

“I’m sure she’s okay, Harry. I’m sure she’s still checking in with Ms. Carter and working on herself. She’s a strong woman, you and I both know that. Strongest woman we’ve ever met. She’ll be okay.”

She leans over to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“And if she isn’t doing well, she would have called you by now.”

But Harry is having none of it. He knows that if she’s relapsing, she wouldn’t have called him. She wouldn’t have called anyone. He knows she feels like he doesn’t care about her anymore- feels like she’s the last thing on his mind. If she were to call him, she’d feel like she was a burden on his life, and that was the last thing she’d want. He knows that.

But if only she knew. If only she knew he can’t sleep at night because all he can think about is betraying the woman he loves, leaving her to fight by herself. Hell, if only she knew he can’t touch his phone without constantly going back to her contact trying to muster up the strength to call her and ask her how she’s doing.

“I was her reason to eat. If she stopped eating, it’s because of me.”

“No,” Gemma shakes her head, reaching her hands up to grab his face to ensure she was looking at him in the eyes, “You can’t put that much responsibility on yourself like that, she had plenty of reasons to recover. None of this would be your fault.”

He shakes his head, gripping the sides of his head as if trying to remain as calm as he possibly can. He wouldn’t be shocked if he lost all of his remaining sanity in his moment.

“I was literally all she had, Gem.” he spits, all the anger and frustration he’s held against himself now unleashing. All the contained emotions he’s been feeling, all the loathing he’s been trying to ignore, is all unraveling inside of him to the point where he feel like he can’t breathe.

“My existence, our future, that’s what she recovered for. Not a second of her recovery was for anybody or anything else.” He rants, breathing harsh as the thoughts rush through his brain. “She had nobody except for me. She didn’t have any friends, any family. She wasn’t fighting when I met her. She was waiting to die..”

“Harry…”

“And I did what I promised her I wouldn’t do and…and now I-”

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to be with her, Harry.” Gemma blinks, shaking her head softly as she reaches to remove his hands from his head, “If you didn’t love her anymore, you didn’t have a choice.“

“But I do love her” he defends, shaking his head, “I’ve always loved her. We had to break up because our relationship wasn’t easy at that time, but hell, Gem, that doesn’t mean I ever stopped loving her.”

He sighs, rubbing his sweaty hands over his face.

Tears fall slowly down his face, soaking his cheeks as he inhales sharply. God, how much he fucking loves her, is what kills him the most.

“Me, helping her recover, of course that was a plus. I helped her get out of her anorexia, Gem. I never gave up on her, but I did once she recovered. That’s not fair, I still love her so much. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Gemma frowns, slowly leaning toward him so that she can softly wrap her arms around his shoulders. She buries her cheek against his shoulder, thumb rubbing delicate circles on his back.

“I think you know what to do, H.”


Once Y/n’s appointment ended, she found herself curled up in her bed as the sounds of Harry’s mixtape played quietly throughout the room. It was a tape he made for her when they first started dating, something sentimental for her to hold onto whenever he wasn’t able to be there.

She’s been listening to it almost everyday since the breakup. She’d listen to it mindlessly, whether she was staring at wall or she was listening to it on her way to therapy. It was the only thing in her life that made her feel something; the pure value of it holding so much meaning. The music was the closest she’s been to Harry in a while, so it was her sanctuary.

She sighs, her fingers lightly grazing the window that drips with rain. In her loneliest hours, Y/n wants nothing more than to make her way over to him. She doesn’t quite know how she’s made it so long without him. In all honesty, she expected her to have given up and walk up to his door and beg him for his help. She knows she’s suffering, her body weak and starving the more she refuses to eat. But, to her, she has no reason to. Every bit of love she had for herself and every purpose she had to continue living has all dissolved into nothing.

She shakes her head, unwrapping herself from the blankets she raveled herself in before her bare feet made contact with the cold floor. She decides to go for a walk, or maybe just go out on her front porch to get some fresh air. She thinks it’ll be good for her, after all, she doesn’t have anything else to do besides stay cooped up in her four walls and listen to disgusting love songs.

The second she stood up from the bed, she nearly fell onto the floor. Her head spins and feels obnoxiously light when she begins to stand up properly. It wasn’t rare for her to feel lightheaded whenever she moved too quickly, however, this was the most intense it has been. Holding herself onto the wall, she waits until she feels back to her normal self before making her way down toward her living room.

Her fingers immediately press against her temples when she makes it to her foyer. Her head spins wildly with every step she takes, making her lose her balance once she reaches the last step. Her head hits against the floor, a groan leaving her chapped lips as her body begins to tremble. Her eyes cloud with darkness for a few moments at a time before she regains her consciousness, her sight fogged and lightheaded as she tries to pick herself up off the floor.

“No” she mumbles, coughing as she rushes to reach for her phone.

“No, no, no.”

This has happened to her before. It happened years ago, though, when she hasn’t consumed anything for weeks. The only difference is that she had someone there to save her before. Thankfully, her mom was there at the time and rushed to her rescue. When she made it to the hospital, they said she was near her end. If she had went a couple more hours without consumption, she wouldn’t have been able to make it.

But now, she has nobody.

Her breathing becomes harsh as her body keeps losing consciousness. There’s only a certain amount of time she has before she fades out entirely, and no matter how much she’s tried to convince herself that she’s been ready for this moment, she has never been more scared for her life.

Her shaking fingers reach for her phone in her back pocket. She has to do something and has to do it quick. If she dies like this, nobody would be out looking for her, nobody would find her body. She’d be stuck in this house as her body decays into nothing but bone.

She decides that this isn’t how she’s going to die, because if this is the day her end finally nears, she’d want to spend her last dying breaths with the one person she feels something for.

Harry.

She whimpers, weak fingers punching in his phone number. Every part of her wants him to answer- needs him to answer, because he’s her last bit of hope and she doesn’t plan on leaving it all behind. But a part of her wouldn’t blame him for not answering. After all, she was the one who dropped him from her life completely, which was, quite honestly, the stupidest thing she’s ever done in her life. She practically pushed him away entirely, even when he was still there for her. Even when he still held onto her and cared for her like nobody else has.

And she can’t die knowing that.

“Y/n?”

Y/n swears hearing his voice is everything she needs in this moment.

Seeing her name light up on his phone makes Harry spring out of bed, his hands gripping the phone closer to his ear, as if trying to get closer to her. It’s been too long since he’s talked to her, and he’s convinced he can’t allow himself to waste another minute without hearing her voice again.

But no matter how much he wishes she was calling because she missed him, too, he just can’t seem to shake the feeling that the only reason she called is because she’s in trouble.

“Harry” she heaves groggily.

Her eyes are clouded, the room spinning around her. She can barely move, only the ghostly movements of her lips and the subtle rise and fall of her chest. She’s lightheaded, feeling cold and utterly weightless as her body lays faint on the carpeted floor beneath her.

“Y/n” Harry breathes out, slightly confused and partially in awe at the sound of her voice, “are you okay? I was gonna come by later. Been worried about you.”

“I keep fading out” she whimpers, her eyes closing longly each passing second, “I’m gonna die.”

Harry’s face pales the second he hears the struggling in her voice.

Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. It’s as if the world has stopped revolving around him, his only concern being Y/n and her safety. With her shaking voice filled with fear; it feels as if every one of Harry’s greatest fears are all coming to haunt him all at once. Y/n’s in a great amount of danger, all because of him, and he might not be able to save her in time.

In a matter of a second, working so quickly Harry doesn’t seem to fully keep up with his actions, he’s stumbling down his stairs and at his front door, holding his car keys shakingly in his hands. He doesn’t even bother putting on a pair of shoes or a jacket before he’s rushing toward his car.

“Y/n…Y/n, you have listen to me very carefully.” he pants, slightly tripping over his own two feet before regaining balance. “You have to hang up the phone and dial the police before i-”

“I- I can’t, Harry” she chokes out, interrupting him because she doesn’t know how much longer she can make it. “I’m so weak. I can’t move.”

Harry’s moving wildly once he sits down in the car. His hands are shaking so harshly it takes him a couple seconds to push the keys in the ignition, causing frantic mumbles of c’mon, c’mon, c’mon to leave his quivering lips.

“Fucking shit!” he spits, putting the car in reverse and stepping on the pedal so hard he’s convinced his car will be wrecked by the time he gets to her. But he doesn’t care, not at all.

He puts his car in drive and swerves onto the road, breaking the speed limit by an extra 30 miles an hour. His teeth clench together as his hand wraps tightly around the stirring wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white as he steps down on the pedal harder.

No matter what speed he goes, he has this inevitable fear that he isn’t going to make it to her on time. He feels he has no time- that she has no time- and no matter how badly he wishes he can stay talking to her to ensure that she’ll be okay by the time he reaches her, he knows it isn’t her safest option. He has to risk it, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

“You gotta give me two minutes, love. I’m putting you on hold for two minutes so that I can send someone over to you. Do not hang up on me, you hear me? You stay with me. Gimme two minutes.”

He doesn’t give her any time to reply before he puts her on hold. His fingers are rapid as he calls the police, the fingers that are gripping onto the steering wheel tapping along the leather as he waits for the operator to answer.

“What’s your-”

“My girlfriend, please,” he rushes out before the woman can finish, “she’s home alone and she keeps fading in and out of consciousness. I need you to bring someone over to her house please.”

He doesn’t notice how fast he’s speaking until the operator begins to ask him to calm down and repeat himself.

“Do you know any information in regards to her unconsciousness?”

“Yes,” he swallows thickly, “she’s anorexic.”

“What’s the address, sir?”

“168 Williamson Drive.”

“The police are on their way.”

He hangs up with the operator before switching back to Y/n’s contact.

“Y/n, baby, you still there?”

Her body jolts when she hears his voice from the speaker, breath hitching in her throat as she grips onto her phone tighter. She swears, if it isn’t for Harry being on the other line, she would have given up by now. Knowing he’s coming back to her keeps her fighting against her body, which is on the brink of blacking out for God knows how long.

“How much-“ she whimpers as she speaks, eyes slowly closing, “how much longer?”

His eyes wander wildly to the roads ahead of him. He isn’t far from her now, just a couple more turns until he’s in her neighborhood. Working quickly, his foot absentmindedly presses harder against the gas pedal, switching lanes to avoid the cars that are getting in his way.

Shit, baby, you gotta give me five more minutes. I just need a bit more time and I’ll be there with you.”

The five minutes feels like forever.

Between Y/n’s soft crying and Harry’s continuously worried questions, Y/n had already fallen out of consciousness three times. She isn’t positive on how she is able to wake up each time, but she is. Every time she wakes up, Harry is calling her name desperately through the phone, reassuring her that he was going to be there as soon as he possibly can and help make sure she stays safe. However, Y/n is almost completely positive she is going to die. She had put her body through so much for far too long, she doesn’t know how many times her body can keep recovering just to relapse again. Her health was constantly fluctuating between the most drastic lows and highs, there is no possible way it has any more strength to push her through this last fight. There is just no way.

Harry doesn’t have time to turn off his car before he’s rushing toward her front door. His sweating hands slip off the doorknob on his first attempt to open her door, but is quick to rebuttal when he storms inside her house. It’s dark, only a small amount of light illuminating the foyer as his eyes wildly search for her.

She’s collapsed onto the floor. Her skin as pale as he’s ever seen it, her fragile body shivering and shaking against the hardwood floor. Her body looks broken, in a way. It looks lifeless as she helplessly tries to muster any atom in her body to keep fighting for her survival. Her loose clothes didn’t hide how weak her body has become within the past couple of months. There’s still a drastic, evident change in her body frame since he’s last seen her. And if he has to be honest, it makes him feel sick to his stomach, to see the love of his life like this.

And the only thing he can think about is how this is all his fault. He caused all of this, not any of this would be happening if he hadn’t left her the way he did. Instead, they could be getting married, living in their dream home together, cooking on the kitchen stove and listening to their favorite music together. They could be happy together.

But everything is because of him. There is nobody else to blame besides him and his selfishness. He left her, alone, in her most disastrous condition and nothing about what he did is okay, not when she’s like this.

“Baby” he cries, falling to his knees beside her.

He begins to sob as he lifts her up from the floor. He cradles her against him, her head laying perfectly on his chest as his arms wrap security around her waist. He nuzzles his face into her hair, his strong cries raking through him as he holds her tighter against him.

She feels cold, much different than her usual warm touch. She feels so light, too, and so weak as he grabs onto her like she’s his life line.

It’s been too long- way too long since he’s held her so close. It feels as if this is the first time he’s finally able to breathe, to not feel so suffocated in his heartbreak over losing the love of his life. He’s with her now, and maybe not in the best way possible, but he’s with her and it’s the biggest step to help them overcome this. Together.

Her fingers brush against his neck, her cheek rubbing against his chest as she whimpers against him.

Her head spins and her eyes fog as he holds her to him, making it nearly impossible for her to keep up with her consciousness. All she can think is how good it feels, to be with him in her weakest moment. She feels the most alive, even in her time closest to death, being wrapped in his arms and being peppered by his kisses. She feels the safest she’s ever been, and in this moment, for the first time in a while, she truly feels like everything is going to be okay.

“Don’t leave me, please” she whispers, “please don’t leave again.”

His heart breaks when he feels her tears soak through his t-shirt as the words she speaks crack in her voice.

He’d never leave her, never in his wildest dreams would he think about leaving her again. He can’t live another day without her, and he’ll stop at nothing to make sure she gets the ending she deserves.

“Oh, my love” he whimpers, placing a delicate kiss upon her forehead, “I’m so sorry, my love. Help is on its way, okay? You’re with me now, you’re safe. I’ve got you.“

He leans down to kiss her shaking lips, running his hands through her hair as he lets out another broken sob.

“You’re safe now.”

One Year

Synopsis: After Yoongi suffers a tragic death, he watches how his loved ones suffer because of his absence. He makes a deal with Death himself; he has one year to prepare his beloved ones for his inevitable death. 

Words: 5,296

Originally posted by ohbaibeeitsyou

- January 20th 10:35 p.m-

Yoongi doesn’t look at you, all he does is tighten his grip around the steering wheel and step on the gas petal. Instinctively, your hands grab onto the side of your seat, bracing yourself for the violent brakes and sudden accelerations of the car. You don’t understand why he’s driving so fast considering he knows how much you dislike it. After the car accident when you were a teenager involving all of your family you had grown traumatized of being in cars. Before today he would be considerate about that fear and would refrain from even going five miles over the designated speed limit. Today was a different story. 

“Slow down,” you do a horrible job of hiding the fear laced in your voice. Through the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi inhaling and exhaling violently. The vein of the side of his neck is pulsing, beneath the thin level of skin you can see the muscles in his jaw flex as he continues to grind his teeth. 

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The polls are in, and ROYAL AU came out ahead! As you voted for, here is a special Royal Fic Rec! Also, keep a lookout for the next poll I may do within a week or so!!

Royal Harry

1. Affairs Of Royalty by wubwubnparmaham

Words: 68k
Tumblr: @wubwubnparmaham

“Shh! Do you smell that?” Niall asked suddenly, Louis shutting up to taste the air. “That’s stronger than I remem—”

“—Holy shit,” Louis breathed, almost getting high from the pheromones that were evidently walking down the hallway.

“I’m not ready,” Niall whined.

The Omegas sunk down into their chairs in trepidation, and they simultaneously noticed there was definitely more than one Alpha nearing the room, but before they could even mention it, the Alphas strode into the class and practically stole both of their souls.

~Or~

Being a senior in high school is hard enough.
Being one of the only two Omegas in a fully human high school is even worse.
Add two secretly royal Alphas from England into the mix…and it’s impossible. 

2. Like a Bullet in the Dark by Vurdoc

Words: 99k
Tumblr: @vurdoc

Prince Harold Edward Styles Lancaster is second in line to the throne of Great Britain. He is also your average Uni student- or he tries to be, anyway.

With a promise from the press (and his father) that they’ll leave him alone for four years, he sets out to be a student at Cambridge, when he meets his very normal, very working class, very handsome suite-mate, Louis Tomlinson.

Louis makes Harry feel more like a person than he ever has before, which might cause some issues later on- ‘cause Harry has a secret that he’s only told his sister Gemma about.

Little does he know though, that Louis has some secrets of his own.

A Will & Kate Au- with a twist.

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archercrow  asked:

Do you have any recommendations were Stiles and Peter get married?

I do! Here’s a bunch - there’s arranged marriage, fake marriage, getting married, and married life.


I’ll Meet You Here by predictaslash

But Stiles can’t really savor it as much as he would like mostly because his heart feels like it might start hurting soon. “Oh. OH. You were joking. Me, too, heh. What a jokester I am.”

AKA, An Entirely Too Decent Proposal

stone/sponge by 1001cranes

Peter has a taste for the all-consuming; he doesn’t find it at all strange to be in the minor percentage of werewolves who have mates.

A welcome arrow by 1001cranes

The wedding is small and grim, because Stiles is being carted off to parts unknown, married to a thirty-something year old dude who wants to marry a seventeen year old dude - totally not creepy at all.

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Why I Will Never Comprehend Women Who are Pro-Abortion

I get what the pros of abortion are. I get that the societal norm is that if two people have a baby that neither wants, the woman is more likely to get saddled with the actual raising of said child. I get that she is the one who physically carries the child-and that’s not some small task; if I ever make it sound like I think it is when I’m railing on pro-choice people, please know that I don’t believe that. I get why having an unplanned pregnancy derails lives. I get all of that.

Here is where my understanding stops: Even with all of that said, I do not comprehend how a woman can be pro-choice (pro-abortion). And to explain why, I’ll have to give you some context.

Two of my most formative experiences have happened around a car.

The first was when I was 6 years old. We were in Milan, Italy (while my family was stationed in Italy) walking down some street, I think walking to a museum, when my shoe came untied. For further context, I’m the 3rd of 6 surviving children and so nobody noticed when I stopped because there were 5 other little monsters running around wreaking havoc. So, I bent down to tie my shoe, and unbeknownst to me a car started to pull away from the curb and was backing up, at increasing speed, toward me. I would have surely been hit and probably seriously injured, if not killed, and not even seen it coming, because children literally do not have the cognitive capability to do two tasks at once, and tying my shoes won out over survive.

All I knew was that one moment I was trying to remember the song my mom taught me about tying shoes and the next I heard the most horrible scream I’ve ever heard, and then my mother flung herself in my direction and with her bare hands stopped this car. Other people can say that the driver merely became aware of the situation and stopped the car, but the driver, my mother and I will all tell you that she stopped it with her bare hands. Every single muscle in my mother’s body, every electrical impulse, every ounce of human potential she had, became focused on one singular task: saving her child. The selfless love, determination, and strength I saw in my mother’s eyes is something I’ll never forget.

The second event happened when I was 16. I was at a park taking my dog for a walk, and there was a family, not unlike mine, in the parking lot. The kids had a ball they were playing with while the rest of the family gathered up what they needed for the day’s outing, and I remember feeling on edge as I watched the ball bouncing and the youngest child chasing it. And then everything slowed down. I saw an SUV coming down the car aisle, I saw the driver texting, I saw the ball bouncing in that direction and I saw the maybe 3 or so year old running toward it with no one the wiser. And the next thing I knew, I dropped the leash, threw myself on top of this child, and directly in the path of the oncoming SUV. Had the driver not been startled by the sudden movement and slammed on his break, I would have possibly been crushed but I think the child would have lived.

I didn’t think about being crushed. Had I thought about it, I would have still done the same thing, but in that moment, I didn’t think. I acted on instinct. My survival instinct, what should theoretically be our greatest instinct, was overcome by an even stronger one: to protect a child. And this wasn’t even my child, I didn’t know that little boy from Adam. But in that moment I understood, clear as day, what a mother’s instinct felt like.

I now notice this instinct all the time. When a baby cries my heart rate picks up and I have to find the source of the noise to make sure they’re ok. One of the reasons I hate cats so much is that they mimic human baby crying and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve went running to find the baby and found a dumb cat instead. I’ve spent a lot of time with babies throughout my life, but believe me when I say that as far as holding a baby goes, and rocking it, nobody had to teach me-I just knew certain things. These instincts are so strong. And they aren’t just emotional feelings, they’re physical. I can feel my body physically react to certain stimuli because of maternal instincts.

But going back, as I mentioned before in the two examples, there was a real possibility of harm to my mother and myself. But our instinct to protect children overcame the survival instinct. I do not understand women who choose abortion. Even if you really believe the baby will ruin your life, I do not understand how that overcomes your natural instinct to protect children.  I cannot comprehend how your instinct to protect children has been so disabled. I do not understand, and I don’t think I ever will.

I would gladly give up my life for a child-and I can’t even begin to imagine the things I would do to protect my own child. I’m not a mother, but when I think about my future children, there’s just nothing I wouldn’t do for them. I would physically carry them forever if I had to. I would give up any and everything in my life for them. And I don’t think I’m the weird one!

We’re hardwired this way for good reason. Children are unable to take care of themselves, and so through millions of years of evolution we became programmed to be this way so that our offspring might survive us. So, in our most natural state, we should have these instincts.

There are only two explanations for why a woman could choose to abort her own baby (not including horrific instances like when something is seriously wrong with the baby and the baby will have no quality of life whatsoever, in which case, the mother is still acting to protect her unborn child from incomprehensible suffering).

1. She has been so reprogrammed by the modern world that her natural instincts have been eliminated-which is a huge feat OR
2. She’s bought into the delusional lies surrounding abortion. Abortion means killing your baby. End of story.

Anyway, all of this is simply a long drawn out of way of me saying that I don’t get how people, and women specifically, can be pro-abortion. I just cannot fathom it. I cannot comprehend it.

I don’t think I have any instinct greater than protecting children and I do not understand how that can be overcome in a woman, but judging by the millions of abortions performed every year, I suppose it can-and what a devastating reality that truly is.

Arrow 5x22 “Missing” Review: But Who Cares?

I’m going to be honest I liked/disliked this episode. I rather enjoyed the parts they did well in my opinion and the rest I was just “meh” about.

I cannot overstate how hard this was to type out. Typing is quite a chore right now with one hand bandaged up. But I figured I’d hen-peck my way through because if I wait until after the bandages are removed, no one will frakking care about this review. I don’t know if I’d even been interested in typing it up, tbh.

Anyway. There are no gifs because I’m too tired and in a lot of pain. Sorry there is no pretty to look at. But it took me forever (over the course of a few days) to transcribe this from my hand written version and I’m running out of time if I want it up before the finale.

What They Got Right

Queen Siblings

I like how Oliver’s character growth these last few episodes have really come out in his scenes with Thea. It adds a nice depth to their relationship. Oliver’s gone from lecturing and ordering his sister around to listening to her and letting her make her own choices (like he did in 5x08 when she wanted to stay with their parents) and sharing wisdom he has learned.

That opening scene with Oliver and Thea was great. I loved the banter—she was absolutely trolling her brother because she knew about the party. She was getting him all flustered; it was her way of trying to push Oliver along on this Reconciliation Road. I love Thea. They had best not sideline her again next year for zoo animals.

In many ways, Oliver has become Thea’s Felicity. He’s not really seeing his family with rose colored glasses anymore; he sees them for the flawed, complicated people they were, or in Thea’s case, is. He sees Thea truly as her own person and not the idealized version he’s held in his head for so long. But he still loves her. He still believes in her. (Does this sound familiar?)

Thea questions whether she’s changed for the better in four years. Oliver has no doubts. He says, “Being happy doesn’t mean you don’t have issues. It just means you’re working on them.” The war holler that came out of my mouth startled everyone else in my house. But for the love of God people we have character growth. It looks sexy AF on him. Yum.

Oliver is helping Thea harness the light that is still inside of her simply by believing that it’s there and one day she’ll start to believe it too. The impact of Felicity on Oliver has now reached Thea. That is why this future version of the Queen family is going to be the best ever. All the feels.

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Three Shiros and A Keith (Part 3)

Note: Holy cow, I did not expect this part to end up so long (This is what happens when I outline beforehand). Champion heavy chapter, but well, I’ve got a lot to establish with him. Also, up to ya’ll to decide who suggested strip poker. Enjoy!

<< First < Prev.


They’re playing hearts, because none of them are carrying anything of value worth betting, and he isn’t drunk enough to be talked into losing a game of strip poker. Much better to play a game where the three other parties don’t have motivation to gang up on him…Oh…that’s a thought worth examining more closely, later.

Takashi plays the last card of the round, and that’s game. Shiro has officially kicked all their asses. God, he’s bored of playing cards. Also hungry. Maybe? Yes, it’s his lucky day, after all. The weird alien snack bar he’d picked up at their last stop on a space station is still in his left pouch. Score. He’s just about to take a bite, when he notices the three pairs of grey eyes trained on him. Right, no ones had dinner, “Um, you guys want to split?” Won’t be much for any of them, but should keep stomachs from growling at least.

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Heartlines Part I: Harsh Words

Hi everyone, this is my first imagine series ever, so hope you like it!

Summary: Y/N is running from the harsh words her supposed soulmates (yep, plural, that’s her very own punishment, having more than one soulmate) told her and while in the run, someone kidnaps her. AU! Where you know who’s your soulmate because of the “heartlines” that lit up the first time you touch your soulmate.
Word count: 2375
Pairings: Clark Kent x Reader, Bruce Wayne x Reader, Barry Allen x Reader.
WARNINGS: Reader is kidnaped, assaulted and insulted. Angst. Reader feels unimportant. I don’t know… it’s pretty sad, don’t read if you are sad. Sorry, don’t know how this works quite yet.

Part II   Part III Part IV


My legs felt numb, my lungs hurt, my eyes burned from all the unshed tears, but still, I kept running. I couldn’t stop… because I knew that if I did… then I would have to face the truth and I wasn’t in for that now, or ever for that matter.  So run I did and I was doing so well at forgetting the world around me, that I didn’t notice someone following me until he got my arm rather forcefully and I felt something in my neck that probably was a shot of some drug.

I woke up bound in a chair not knowing even my name and with the mother of all headaches. However for the next hours, I learnt to miss that state of ignorance since everything came rushing back to me:

-“Y/N, this is not a good moment” “But Barry, I just…” “Iris needs me, I need to go” “I-Is she alright? Is she in d-danger?” “What? No! She just… needs me and I’m going with her” “But Barry… I need you too, I- my dad came and…” “And what? Y/N, can’t you stand a day without being the victim?” “What? Barry, what are you trying…” “All I say is that it always has to be about you, always! But I have no time for that now; I need to go with Iris” “Is she more important than me? Than us?” “Y/N…” “Answer me” “Y/N, I don’t have time for this…” “Just answer me, dammit!” “…Yes, is that what you wanted to hear? Now I have to go”

Originally posted by supercanaries


-“Clark! Please, we need to talk!” “Not now Y/N, I’m in a hurry” “What? Why?” “Lois is going to reportage about the war in…” “And that’s your business because?” “Because it’s dangerous and she is… very important to me” “Am I important too?” “What? Y/N of course you are, don’t be ridiculous” “Is just… that she is always first, these days your priority is Lois” “Y/N…” “She is just your favorite person, isn’t she?” “Y/N, please…” “Do I even make it to the top ten?” “Of course, baby. Can I go now?” “Are you serious?” “Very. The plane goes off in less than half an hour, Lois must be waiting” “And you can’t leave her waiting, can you?” “Y/N…” “If… if you go through that door, Clark, I swear…” “Thanks, bye!” “…you’ll never see me again”

Originally posted by sorry-no-more-no-less


- “Alfred, take Y/N back to her home in Metropolis” “Bruce! Stop! You cannot do this; we have to talk” “That’s why you have speedy and the alien, to talk and be sweet to you” “Bruce, please! We need to solve this, we need to talk this through” “There’s no time, Y/N. However, I’m sure Barry or Clark would be delighted to have you with them for the night” “None of them cares for me enough, Bruce… I just need to know that I matter to someone, then you can go and save the city, but please… ” “Then what am I? Your last choice?” “What? No! Bruce, it isn’t like that, you know I love you all” “You’ve said that plenty of times before” “Bruce, please… I just need a reason not to go… I need a reason to stay” “Apparently, I don’t have one” “Bruce…” “If you want to go, then go! See if I give a shit”

Originally posted by theres-nothing-to-prove


-Oh! Sleeping Beauty is finally awake-someone cracked and made me look up. In front of the door of the room I was in, was a tall man. I couldn’t distinguish much more since the lights were still off.
-Have been for a couple of hours, actually-I answered calm since this wasn’t the first hostage situation I was in, after all, being the soulmate of 3 known superheroes has its downside. The only difference from this occasion was that here I didn’t had the certainty that one of them would rescue me.
-Well, sorry for the delay, then-he started to come near me- We were just staging everything for the big show.
-I’m guessing I’m an important part of it, aren’t I?-I said with a tired smile, which he, whoever he was, corresponded.
-The main event! Everything is about you, my dear-the lights were finally turned on and after I got used to the light, I took a look to my captor.
-Edward?-I gasped surprised. My publisher was right there, in front of me. If I ignored the crazy smile on his face, is like he was the normal Edward I knew as my publisher, my friend, my shoulder to cry on… and now, my captor.
-I know you’re surprised, dear. However, do try to be open minded… because isn’t this just fun? I mean, it’s fun for me because your face is priceless but for you… oh, dear Y/N, this must be horrible. Everyone in your life isn’t really there for you anymore, are they? No, they aren’t-he answered his own question before I could- I mean, let’s see: your parents are now dead, your brother is off to Europe and you two don’t talk much anymore, you don’t even know he is married now!-he laughed
-What?!-I exclaimed, confused.
-Oh, yeah, that’s because the invitations were delivered to your boyfriends’ houses, but none of them cared enough to tell you about it.
-That’s not true, my brother doesn’t even have a girlfriend, he…
-But he does, see it for yourself-he put his cellphone right in front of me. I could see my brother in a tuxedo, embracing lovingly a woman with blonde curly hair and milky skin-… and let’s not forget about the video I took!-he said starting a video where I could see my brother chatting with some people I didn’t knew, holding the blonde’s hand, laughing, smiling…
-You were there?!-I shouted, surprised when I saw him in the video
-Of course! I was very surprised when I didn’t saw you there and that’s when I started to work out your failing relationships-he murmured while putting away his phone.
-My relationships aren’t failing
-No? Then, care to explain this?-he clicked something in his cellphone and Barry’s voice started to sound

“I need to go with Iris” “Is she more important than me? Than us?” “Y/N…” “Answer me” “Y/N, I don’t have time for this…” “Just answer me, dammit!” “…Yes, is that what you wanted to hear? Now I have to go”

-Or maybe this one?-another click and now was Clark’s voice

“Y/N…” “If… if you go through that door, Clark, I swear…” “Thanks, bye!” “…you’ll never see me again”

-Maybe this other one?-one click more and now I could hear Bruce’s voice

“Bruce…” “If you want to go, then go! See if I give a shit”

-I know! All of them were out of context, huh?-he said with a bright smile, staring down at me. I gulped down all the tears that threatened to come out and tried to talk.

-What do you want from me?-I asked, looking down.
-What do I want from you? Right now, just admit what you already know… that they don’t love you, even though their heartlines illuminated with you, they don’t love you.
-I… Why?
-Because you have to do it-he answered harshly, however, I just wanted to know why and I wasn’t backing down
-Tell me why and I’ll do it-I said proudly looking up- Maybe because you think you are better than them, you think you deserve a chance with me, you think…-I couldn’t continue because of a slap in my face that launched me to the ground.
-I don’t “think” I’m better than them or that I deserved a chance, I know it! I’ve always known that but you refused to accept it. I was the perfect candidate to be the one who lit up your fourth heartline! I even considered forgetting you are a whore since birth! But you ruined your chances and now I’m here to show you your mistake-he ended with a smile while he grabbed the chair I was in and put it back to place without a care.
-What are you going to do?-I asked trying not to show my fear, but failing miserably
-I’m going to put on a show where you will be able to see how your soulmates don’t care one bit about you and…
-I already know that-I interrupted him
-Oh, so you are not making any bets? No hope that any of the 3 will come to get you?-he said with a giggle that I found terrifying.
-No, I have no hope at all… will you end this game now?-I said while looking down
-Unfortunately for you, I do have my bets and consequential plans with those bets
-Weren’t you going to show me how they didn’t care enough for me?
-Oh yes! But my plans were to attract them here, to you, and then show you how the only reason they came was because they were heroes, not because they loved you… however, it never occurred to me that they weren’t coming. So, if you are right, then I’m afraid that this is your last night alive-he laughed even more while I opened my eyes in shock.
-No… Edward, why are you doing this?-I asked in tears
-Because: A) It’s fun! B) You obviously deserve it, I mean; you are a freak with those four heartlines and C) This plan has been going for a long time, I wanted to play with my rivals for some time now, but now they are no longer my rivals… once you are out of the picture, they will be my playmates.
-Edward… please, just… I need to say goodbye to my brother, please-I said trying hard not to scream and cry for mercy because now I knew he wouldn’t give that to me, he was clearly a psychopath and psychopaths don’t give a shit for their victims but I at least wanted to say goodbye to my brother, he was a good brother and if he had a family I didn’t wanted them to see me like the aunt bitch that never communicated.
-I suppose everyone needs a closure and I like your brother, he was very kind to send me an invitation…-he murmured while he thought about it- Okay, you can say goodbye to him. There’s a camera right there-Edward lifted my chair and rotated it to my left, where I could see for the first time a camera that was apparently recording- I was going to send a copy to the Justice League but I guess I could send your brother another copy.
-Could you, please, cut the parts of my torture?-I said with a slight tremble, earning a confused glare and a twisted smile from Edward
-How did you know I was going to torture you?
-It’s obvious… you want to make me suffer for not choosing you, even though I don’t have a say on it-I said gazing up to him and his smile just widened.
-Yeah, obvious… go on then-he motioned to the camera and I sighed.

-Hi brother!-I said being over cheerful- I heard you got married and I just want to say ‘Congratulations, you bastard!’ I hope you are incredibly happy with her and… I also hope that you forgive for not being there with you. I’ve been nothing but an awful sister and for that I’m sorry, you deserved better.  You deserved a much better sister than what I could ever be… I… I wish we had talked more, that we hadn’t drift apart but there’s not much we can do now. So I want to tell you that none of this is your fault, none! I know it’s rare from me taking away from you some guilt, but… well, I love you bro, that’s all I can say and I want to show it to you by forgiving everything you did to me when we were children, because I know you sometimes still feel guilty about it, and I also asking for forgiveness for everything I’ve done to you in our childhood and in our adult life. I hope you can forgive me… especially for apologizing only when I’m so close to my death.-I sighed
-I know that when this arrives to your home in Europe I will already be dead… and I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry that you will know of my death because of a video or maybe a phone call or anything, I’m sorry I’m dead because maybe you are going to feel guilty or maybe you are going to drift apart from your beautiful wife… so, in this video, I ask you to do neither of those things. I ask you to go on with your life and don’t hate me, or this situation, or anything about it… just… go on and be happy knowing that’s what I wish for you-by this time, tears were freely streaming down my face
-God! I’m awful for this things… everything I’ve said doesn’t make sense and you are probably done with this video… however, if you have come this far, I want you to know that I love you, I couldn’t ask for a better brother and that I will always be sorry for being an awful sister. Oh! Also, you don’t have to be guilty about anything I…
-That’s enough!-Edward interrupted me while moving my chair to the side- Too much yada, yada. Now it’s time to get you ready… Guys!-Some over-muscled goons entered the room; their faces were stoic… where the hell do all of these villains get these goons that are so alike? - Why don’t you get our main guest ready for tonight’s show?-he said while grabbing the camera and giving it a better position, one where my face could be seen clearly along with the goons.
The fat men exited the room, but were back soon enough.
-Y-you are going to record this?-I asked slightly trembling at the sight of the goons carrying an electroshock machine.
-Of course! The Justice League members can’t miss the backstage show now, can they?-he said with a horrible smile.

I just gulped and hoped against hope that Barry, Clark or Bruce came for me… noticed that I was gone… but deep down, I knew they wouldn’t come.


aguagi  asked:

What do you think about Satsuki entrusting Ryuuko with Bakuzan at the end of the Raid trip? She didn't know Ryuuko was just going to hand it back to her right then and there, and she needed Bakuzan to enact vengeance upon Ragyou during the Great Sports and Culture Festival. Do you see it as Satsuki finally acknowledging Ryuuko as an equal (and not at the moment when she confessed her shortcomings on the Naked Sol) and entrusting Ryuuko in coming to her aid later? (1/2)

That is, she gives Ryuuko her sword, creating an unspoken honorable bond between them. From what she knows, only life fibers can kill life fibers, and Bakuzan is currently the only life fiber weapon she has besides Junketsu, which showed a very limited range of transformative use as a lance. Did she expect Ryuuko to hand back Bakuzan and fight beside her as equals once she backstabbed Ragyou? Or for Ryuuko to attack Ragyou and Satsuki backstabs her (Ragyou) while she was distracted? (2/2)

Satsuki: As long as there is breath left in me, Satsuki Kiryuin has a chance at victory!

The way I see it, Satsuki is a character who has devoted her entire life to stopping Ragyo—and this shows. Satsuki’s plans have none of the impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, let’s-see-how-reckless-we-can-be qualities that her sister’s do, because unlike Ryuko, Satsuki is immensely thoughtful and methodical, and she takes care to consider every possibility.

And it is good to be well-prepared, of course, but Satsuki takes her strategizing to such an extreme that it makes her cold. While Ryuko is ultimately able to fight Satsuki to a draw at the end of the Raid Trip because she puts her complete and utter faith in Senketsu—even without having a clue about what he intends to do!—prior to the reveal that Ryuko is her sister, I struggle to see Satsuki make a similar choice. There is nothing sensible about wholeheartedly trusting someone as Ryuko does, and up until Satsuki’s change of heart later in the series, her priority is to behave in ways that make sense to reach her objective—even if making sense can be harsh, detached, distancing, and, as she puts it herself, even if it makes her a villain.

So, when it comes to relying on and believing in others, Satsuki is highly lacking—in fact, it’s her greatest flaw, and what she herself acknowledges as her greatest flaw in her confession on the Naked Sol in episode 22. While she certainly expects people to help her in her goals, Satsuki is careful to never particularly count on it at first, because to count on somebody else would be to trust them… and that’s dangerous. Unknown. Illogical. Reckless.

Satsuki: If you [Ryuko] won’t like my way, I will fight you afterward.

And while Satsuki’s hesitance to trust can be seen in how she treats her Elite Four (and particularly Uzu, who blinds himself due to her horrible manipulation), this quality is probably most obvious and overt in her behavior towards Ryuko. Not only is it her poor treatment of Ryuko that pushes Satsuki to reconsider her actions, but Satsuki also blatantly never counts on Ryuko to fight for her cause, which she even notes directly: if Ryuko doesn’t want to help, Satsuki’ll just fight her, too. Satsuki may urge Ryuko to be on her side because she acknowledges that Ryuko’s aid would be useful, but she never, ever lets herself especially rely on Ryuko as an ally—well, before her big realization, anyway!

Satsuki: I shall leave Bakuzan in your [Ryuko’s] care. To mark today’s battle.

Ryuko (tossing Bakuzan back to Satsuki): Kiryuin.

Satsuki: What?

So, when Satsuki entrusts Ryuko with Bakuzan at the end of the Raid Trip (episode 15), I would argue that Satsuki is absolutely not holding out on the hope that Ryuko would use the sword to help her out later. She’d like Ryuko to lend a hand, but she’s not going to count on it.

Satsuki’s inability to trust Ryuko at this point is only furthered by her shocked reaction when Ryuko tosses Bakuzan back to her. The return is something Satsuki absolutely did not expect from Ryuko, because doing so is a sign of trust—exactly what Satsuki can’t do. The English dub especially pushes this idea, with Ryuko justifying her action by saying, “You seriously think I don’t trust you?”

But what’s interesting about this scene is how, well, nonsensically Satsuki behaves. Here I’ve been yapping about how sensible Satsuki is, but there’s really nothing sensible about leaving your weapon with your enemy—and definitely not when, as you pointed out, that weapon is pretty crucial to your goals!

While I wouldn’t say that Satsuki sees Ryuko as an equal yet (as Satsuki still doesn’t trust her), I would say that the act of giving up Bakuzan is a sign of honor and respect. Satsuki may be manipulative, deceitful, and tyrannical at this point in the story, but she won’t play dirty—even if it makes things a whole heck of a lot harder on herself. No matter what, Satsuki will be true to her word, and more than that, she’ll treat her “enemies” humanely.

And while I don’t think Satsuki giving Ryuko Bakuzan totally destroys her plans—remember, she has some Bakuzan toenails, so she clearly considered that she’d lose her sword along the way, and as pictured at the top of this post, she’ll do whatever it takes to stop Ragyo as long as she still lives—this moment at the end of the Raid Trip is a good one for her character because it emphasizes that Satsuki is not her mother. 

Though Satsuki utilizes similar methods as Ragyo to get what she wants, Ragyo would never display the kind of respect and honor that Satsuki does here. All Ragyo cares about is her own goal, and while Satsuki may even think she’s the same, she’s not. Satsuki has humanity, she cares about human life, and as she shows later, she’s willing to change—and willing to embrace the nonsensical that she would once only dare show shades of.

Across the Stars, Chapter 3

Prologue   Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6   Chapter 7  Chapter 8

AN: Yay!!! Update! Your guys’ feedback has been so lovely! Please don’t forget to just press that like button or reblog button, or if you don’t want my post dirtying your dash, just send a reply or a message! It’s so encouraging to see when readers are actually enjoying our material and we can’t tell if you are or not if you don’t respond to it <3

“I don’t know why you keep going back to her.”

Rhys ignored Azriel and threw his arm over his eyes, sinking further into the cushions of the plush leather couch and crossing one ankle over the other.

“I don’t know why you won’t let Cassian ‘accidentally’ hit her with a car,” Mor continued from her spot in the kitchen, her spoon clinking as she tapped it on the side of the bright yellow ceramic mug she had in her hands.

Cassian perked up, straightening in the arm chair he’d slouched in. “I’d gladly do it.”

Azriel lifted a brow. “You’d risk jail?”

“If it got Rhys and his little sister out of the woman’s iron-tipped clutches,” Cassian shrugged. His grin was absolutely wicked. “And besides, I could play it off well-enough that I’d get charged with manslaughter at the most.”

“And if you do it really well,” Mor said conspiratorially, walking out of the kitchen toward her cousin, “you can get away with self-defense.”

“She’s friendless, which means she has no alibi, no defense.” Cassian pursed his lips and flicked something from his nails. “We could totally—“

“You sound entirely too excited,” Rhys interrupted without removing his arm. “We’re not killing her. We aren’t murderers.”

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differentandstupidhuman  asked:

What about a cinderella marco but with prince tom? I love the one that you made before with the friend tom, but i wanna see them dancing and putting the cristal shoe

Okay! I really don’t remember cinderella that well, but I tried my best. This is the fanfiction I don’t know if it turned out good or horrible. I hope you enjoy it anyway! I love you bye!

——————————————————————————————-

Tom drummed his fingers on the side of the throne. He was bored. An entire ball was being thrown for him to meet princesses and women from the kingdom to pick a bride. People were wondering when he would marry. But Tom just showed no interest in any of this. So the ball was set for him to dance with different girls and try an find one to spend his life with.

“How possible…” He muttered. “I get one night to decide my entire future.” Tom grumbled. He hated this. He hated dancing, he hated crowds and he hated meeting new people. All the woman expected the prince to be this cool admirable man. A prince charming that they would make goo-goo eyes at. But Tom was a walking dumpster fire with social anxiety and a fiery temper. Tom sighed again and felt somebody nudge him, he looked over to see his sister, Hekapoo, looking down at him.

“Tom, you’ve been here an hour. There are groups of girls willing to dance with you and you haven’t spoken to anyone.” She hissed.

“I don’t want to speak to anyone.” Tom assured. Hekapoo stared daggers at him and grabbed his horn to get him to sit up straight.

“Take this seriously!” She hissed, and walked off. Tom’s eyes scanned the room and he tried to find a way out of this horrible party. Tom made a face when three women came near him. Two were about his age, and one was an older woman.

“Prince Tom, we wanted to thank you in person for inviting up to this ball of yours.” The older woman said. “I was thrilled to receive our invitation.” She continued. “And even more thrilled to introduce you to my daughters.” The woman showed Tom the other two and they waved at him. “I hear this ball is to help you find a bride, and I hope you make a wise choice.” She added. Tom shrunk away a little bit and the girls winked at him.

“Th-thank you ma’am.” Tom mumbled. “What was your name?” He asked. The woman smiled and looked down at him.

“I’m Lady Tremaine.” She introduced. Tom tilted his head.

“I thought there were four in the Tremaine household.” He admitted. The woman waved her hand and laughed a bit.

“Oh yes, Marco is somewhere over there.” She said fast and unamused. “I’ll leave you three to get acquainted.” She then said, and walked off. Tom kept looking past at her, like he was getting vibes. But when he turned his head he jumped at the two girls who were still there.

“Is it true you have to find a bride?” One asked. Tom bit his lip.

“Th-they want me too…” He admitted.

“Well my mother thinks it best for me to marry too, haha, what a weird coincidence.” She giggled. Tom forced a smile.

“Is it? Is it really, though?” He asked, laughing insincerely. The girls laughed and kept competing for his attention, but Tom found his eyes wandering around the room. Tom’s eyes stopped when he saw a boy with a tray chatting happily with another guest. He was in a help uniform, but he didn’t recognize him as the castle servant. Tom’s eyes widened. “Who is that?” He asked. The girls looked behind them rolled their eyes.

“Oh that’s our step-brother Marco. We loaned him to the castle for the night to help out.” One shared. “He wasn’t able to come otherwise because all he would do is embarrass us.” She huffed.

“But we gave invitations to the entire households.” Tom reminded. The other step-sister laughed a bit and shook her head.

“Yes but we didn’t want him to come regardless. But then our mother thought some more work would do him good.” She explained. Tom watched the boy serve drinks around the ball and make his way around. Tom moved the girls aside and ran over to him. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to this human, but he was.

“E-excuse me… M-Marco?” Tom called, he was suddenly feeling a lot more shy. Marco turned his head and looked for where the sound was coming from, but shrugged when he didn’t see Tom get lost in the crowd. Tom groaned and pushed passed the dancing people and tried to run after the boy. Tom ran faster and made it outside. He looked up excitedly, hoping to see the boy who had captured his attention, but his face fell when Marco was nowhere to be seen.

Tom went back inside and kept searching for the mystery boy the rest of the night, but as more and more people cleared out he didn’t see the human boy. Tom sighed and slumped down in his chair once all the guests had left. There had been a few last-minute attempts to flirt with him by other women, but Tom was having none of it. After the party he looked over to see and angry looking Hekapoo.

“The ENTIRE kingdom was here! And you didn’t find a spark with any young person?” She demanded. Tom rubbed the back of his head and Hekapoo narrowed her eyes. “You found somebody didn’t you?” She asked. Tom blushed and looked down.

“I don’t know…” He mumbled. “I didn’t even talk to him.” Tom added. He looked away and his eyes fell to the middle of the floor. Tom gasped and scrambled up and ran over. He lifted up a dark blue shoe. “This is it!” He cried.

“Those are the shoes the maids wear.” Hekapoo told him.

“I know! He was working as a maid during the party for us! All we need to do is go around to all the citizens in the kingdom and see which person it fits!” Tom exclaimed. Hekapoo raised an eyebrow.

“That’s crazy, do you know how many helpers were wearing those? It might not even be his shoe.” She told him. But Tom was already scrambling to find his shoes and coat and run out the door. Hekapoo ran after him and stuck her head out the door, calling after her brother. “Tom! I really think you’re jumping to conclusions! What are you going to do? Go to every door in the kingdom until you see this guy you haven’t even spoken too?” She called.

“YES!”

——————————————————————————————————————————–

“Put this on your foot please!”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s okay it’s for a good reason!”

The fourth door that day slammed on Tom’s face. Hekapoo put her hands on her hips. She had decided to follow, thinking she would have to pull her baby brother out of trouble, or it would be funny to see him run around, which it was.

“Maybe if you tell people who you are they’ll want to try on the slipper.” She suggested. Tom rolled his eyes.

“There are two things wrong with that. Number one, if I tell people who I am, everybody will pretend it fits and say that they’re the one! Number two, who is going to believe me if I say ‘Hey! Put this shoe on for no weird reason! I’m the prince so it’s not creepy for me to have an obsession with your feet!’?” Tom cried. Hekapoo laughed a bit and nodded, as the siblings went to the next house.

Tom knocked on the door and it just so happened to be a family who recognized him. “Oh prince Tom! Princess Hekapoo, what an honor to see you.” The woman smiled. “I expect you’re here for one of my daughters, perhaps after you clicked so well last night.” She asked, giggling a little bit. Tom tilted his head.

“Oh yes, Lady Tremaine.” Tom remembered. “I am here for that!” He exclaimed. The woman’s face lit up, but then Tom kept talking. “Your step-son! Marco!” Tom cried. “I want to ask for his hand in marriage.” He beamed. The older woman’s face fell and she stared at Tom for a long while before Tom continued. “I’ve been looking everywhere for him! I even have his shoe right here!” Tom continued, holding up the slipper. “Can I?” he asked. “I want to make sure it fits, so I know it’s the right person.”

“Or you could just, you know, look at him.” Hekapoo suggested.

“Shut-up Hecka!” Tom hissed. Lady Tremaine took the shoe.

“Well then, please do come in.” She insisted. Tom smiled big at Hekapoo and they went into the house.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

“He’s here for HIM!” The step-mother hissed.

“Well what do we do?” One of the sep-sisters asked. Lady Tremaine smoothed her hair out and sent her daughter away.

“Simple, dear. You want to marry the prince do you not?” She asked. “You will be Marco, tell him it was you he saw at the ball and pretend that this slipper fits.” She insisted. The daughter nodded and took the shoe, going on her way. As soon as she left Lady Tremaine turned to  Marco and narrowed her eyes.

“And you!”

——————————————————————————————————————————–

“I thought I talked to you earlier?” Tom asked, he wasn’t buying this.

“No, no, you talked to my sisters!” She laughed. “I’m Marco, remember. The shoe fits.” She teased. Tom raised an eyebrow and took the shoe, staring at it for a long while. And then he looked back at the white red-haired girl.

“Marco had brown skin and eyes.” Tom responded. Hekapoo took him by the shoulder.

“We probably have the wrong house, this must be a coincidence.” She insisted. Tom pulled away and shook his head.

“No. I talked to her! And you told me Marco was your step-brother.” Tom insisted. “And you didn’t want him coming to the ball because you said he would just embarrass you.” Tom hissed. He then pieced this together. “You’re pretending to be him because you want to marry me instead. Now what did you do with Marco?” Tom demanded. The girls exchanged glances, in the silence Tom heard a bang come from the upstairs. He gasped and dashed up the steps, he came down the hallway to a room. Despite protests coming from the others Tom didn’t waste any time tearing the door open.

Marco shot up from the bed he was sitting on and gasped when he saw a demon tackle him down. “PUT THIS SHOE ON!” He screamed. Marco shoved him off.

“Why!?” Marco cried.

“I saw you at the ball! I tried to talk to you but you ran away too fast!” Tom exclaimed. “I-it’s me! I’m the prince, I wanted to meet you again, Marco! I-I want to ask for your hand in marriage.” He told the human. Marco gasped and Tom tried to hand him the slipper again. Marco put a hand over his mouth and looked at the demon prince in shock.

“Prince Tom I… I… I’m flattered but… that’s not my shoe.”

Well, well, well...

VK related, probably not gonna tag it though because it’s more of a ramblings post about my thoughts on Zeki, the chapter in relation to Z + Y and the reception the chapter has received. I’ll put it below the cut which is below this dope gif of Jon Sn– Kit Harington having a sippy sip. Read if you want friends, or just scroll past, either way enjoy the gif. 

Originally posted by plumkat

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Why I'm Still Not Over Episode 13

Since I’m playing on the English server, I haven’t reached 13 yet, but I have definitely seen what has happened from international users. My opinion on this episode is like everyone else’s opinion:
The writer in me, the part of me that writes stories full of horror and heartbreak, definitely enjoyed 13. This part of me saw the potential in the betrayal by the boys and can not wait for it to escalate. This part of me is very invested in the story-
But this part of me isn’t the grand majority of my consciousness.
While the writer in me enjoyed 13, the player in me was definitely enraged by the last episode.

I, like most players, disliked the kissing scene in 13 because it symbolized a huge betrayal.
The kisses between the guys was not romantic or cute, rather, it was disgusting and twisted. The kiss symbolized something that was supposed to be pure, warped into something detrimental that would impact Erika and everything she knew.
To put it simply, the kiss was the thing that destroyed her life.

I really can’t stress how horrible this was enough.

I’m the type of person who can easily step into a character’s shoes and feel what they feel. So, during 13, I stepped into Erika’s situation and saw the true impact of what happened:
Erika lost everything she knew.
With one action, one swallow, one potion, Erika lost her life.
Think about it for a second. Let it sink in.
The grand majority of us have families that care. Have friends that care. Have some form of relationships that care.
Think about your loved ones for a second. Run through each name and face in your mind.
I’ll tell you mine if you want.

When it comes to my loved ones, my grandma comes to mind. My grandma who hugs me every chance she has and rhetorically asks me why she loves me so much. My grandmother who listens to my problems and gives me her best advice. My grandma who raised me after my mother gave me up because she wasn’t ready to raise a kid-
Though she isn’t the only one that appears in my mind.
I also think of my grandfather who is a father to me. My grandpa who gets up at midnight to run down to the pharmacy when I’m sick. My grandfather who jokes with me and buys me treats and complains when I need something yet never hesitates to provide it. My grandpa who tries to help me with my math homework, even though it’s gibberish to him because his education ended at third grade, and does everything he can to make my life easier because he loves me as a daughter and not a granddaughter.
And it doesn’t stop with him.
I think of my Godmother who gives me advice and is always there for support. My Godmother who says that sometimes she forgets I’m her niece and not her actual biological daughter.
I also think of my little brother who irritates me and gets irritated by me, yet is always there when I need help like a little gentleman.
I think of my younger sister who teases me yet listens to my problems and comes to me for advice. My little sister who once hugged me and cried after having a nightmare where I died.
And I think of my mother who is not the best person in the world, yet she tries.

So, because I come from a very loving family, I can easily realize the extent of Erika’s pain.

I mean, Erika lost her life.

She may still be alive, but she isn’t living in the world she used to be.
She lost everyone who cared. Think on that for a second. Imagine your family, as I imagine mine, suddenly not remembering who you are. Imagine them looking at you with blank looks because they don’t remember you existed.
Imagine how much that would hurt you.
And imagine how much that hurt Erika-

Though it doesn’t really end there, does it?

Erika, on top of losing her family, lost any trace she left behind.
Bite into that for a moment.
We humans are afraid of being lost in the pages of history, or at least I am, so imagine what it is like to be gone.
Imagine your legacy, whatever it may be, disappearing back in your world.
That’s everything you worked for, everything you strived for, and everything the world would have had to remember you by, gone.
Wouldn’t that be a horrible nightmare?

So, truly, reflect on everything for a second.
With one liquid, one kiss, one substance, you do not exist.
There is no one to mourn your loss, and no one to even know you were ever something that could be mourned.
You are lost.
Lost to your loved ones, lost to your world, and lost in a world that you don’t belong in.
Because no matter how hard you, or Erika, or your Guardianne tries, you do NOT belong in Eldarya.
Even if, through a plot twist, Erika is from that world: SHE. DOES. NOT. BELONG.
She doesn’t know the world, the society, or the history. She doesn’t know how to live there or survive. And she doesn’t have anyone that knows her as deeply as any one she left behind.
So, she doesn’t fit in, and the one world she actually belonged to, is forever out of reach.

I mean, even if she can go back, she can’t really go back.
There is nothing to go back TO.
Her family doesn’t know her, her studies and achievements are gone, and her life is erased.
If she goes back to her world, she’s an outcast.
And if she stays in Eldarya, she’s an outcast.

Erika has no place to go now simply because the Refuge of Eel couldn’t consider a better solution.
And, although I get the fact that they had to protect their people, could they not have had a better option?
Could they not have given Erika a better choice?
Could they not have told her the truth for once?

Anyway, in conclusion, I’m not over 13.

I’m very empathetic when it comes to characters and easily saw things from Erika’s point of view.
Erika’s life is shattered and she is now forced to stay with people who have done nothing but lie and betray her.
At this point, I think her best bet would be to go with Ashkore. At least he has been largely honest with her-
At least, compared to the Eel people.

So, yeah, I hope she keeps him a secret from the others, I hope the guy that kissed her truly suffers for his actions, and I hope Erika somehow either escapes with Ashkore-or is finally thought of as an equal by the guys and Miiko.


What are your opinions on this?

4.13: A game with one simple rule: DODGE.

(waves hello at Dabb again… this was his second episode, after 4.06)

Considering how much I know I’ve written about this episode, I have shockingly little in my tag for it… I constantly resent my Past Self for not being a better tagger…)

This case also shows us some horribly painful memories of Sam and Dean’s high school era lives. And a lot of it hinges on perception, and wrong impressions based on not being able to see the full picture.

They believe it’s a straightforward case of Sam’s bullied friend as a vengeful spirit, taking revenge on bullies. He has to burn the bones of this boy who’d been his friend, who Sam had stood up for when they were kids.

And like the ghost in 4.06– whom they wrongly assumed was going after people who were “dicks,” but was ACTUALLY targeting people who were harboring guilty secrets in their past, which was why Dean’s hallucinations by the end of the ghost sickness were of Lilith, and him being sent back to Hell, not to be tortured but to be the torturer himself again– they wrongly assume this ghost was targeting “bullies,” aka the high school equivalent of 4.06′s “dicks.”

But burning Barry’s bones doesn’t stop the killings. Not to mention that despite Dean’s “bullying-coded” behavior, the ghost targets SAM. Because Sam had once fought back against this particular bully. He hadn’t known the kid’s full story, like most kids in high school, that Dirk lashed out at school to feel like he had any sort of power and control in his own life while he was the primary caregiver for his dying mother. And in fighting him that one day in school, Sam took away that last bit of power he felt he had.

But Sam was given this bit of advice from his teacher:

MR. WYATT: Well… I don’t want to overstep my bounds here, but… you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Look, I mean, I know what it’s like. I come from a family of surgeons, and that wasn’t me. So, you know, I traded in the money and prestige of being a doctor for all the glamour you see around you. But the point is… there may be three or four big choices that shape someone’s whole life, and you need to be the one that makes them, not anyone else. You seem like a great kid, Sam. Just live the life you want to live.

But this episode demonstrates that those choices– any choices– don’t happen in a vacuum, and they may have unintended consequences if made impulsively and based on less than the full truth.

We watch Dean’s “performing Dean” persona take a hit in this episode too. John apparently left them in this town longer than normal, and longer than expected. He sabotaged his relationship with her when it started to become too real. Unfortunately John STILL hadn’t returned to whisk him and Sam off to the next hunt, in the next town, and Dean was forced to face the very real consequences of his behavior, getting called out in a crowded hallway:

AMANDA:  I’m not mad, Dean. I thought maybe… underneath your whole “I could give a crap,” bad-boy thing, that there was something more going on. I mean, like the way you are with your brother. But I was wrong. And you spend so much time trying to convince people that you’re cool, but it’s just an act. We both know that you’re just a sad… lonely little kid. And I feel sorry for you, Dean.

And yeah, Dean feels sorry for himself, too. Because she wasn’t wrong about him. There is something more going on with Dean, but Sam’s the only constant in his life. Dean knows he can’t afford to show anyone else the sad, lonely little kid beneath the surface, because they’re never gonna stick around anywhere long enough to make it worth it for him. So instead he takes what he can get.

SAM: You told me that I didn’t have to go into the family business. You said I should make my own choices.
MR. WYATT: So you’ve managed to do your own thing, then, huh?
SAM: Yeah, for a while, yeah. And I think I went to college because of you. But, you know, people grow up.
MR. WYATT: Yeah.
SAM: Responsibilities. But still, um… you took an interest in me when no one else did. That matters, so thank you.
MR. WYATT: Well, you know, the only thing that really matters is that you’re happy. Are you happy, Sam?

Well, he’s trying to be happy, at least. Even in s12. And I do think he’s starting to see a different, better picture of what the future might look for himself. He still doesn’t have all the facts yet, and is still making hasty choices based on the surface appearance (like choosing to work with the BMoL, trusting Mick, calling Ketch taking the rogue hunter off to “punish” him “GOOD.”) but he’s seeing more and more behind that curtain, and he DOES have some genuinely good things going for him now. Is he happy now? I think he’s at least getting there.

And Dean? He’s shedding that Performing Dean persona more than he ever has in the past, and he seems to be finding ways to reconcile his own past with what he wants for his future. Now it’s all a matter of truly believing that he deserves it.

This is angsty af but hopefully cuter by the end! Enjoy!

Also have requests about Feysand getting drunk and having a fight if you would like)

***

Feyre hadn’t felt this powerless since she was a human, broken and dying in front of Amarantha.

At the time, she never could’ve predicted that there would be a more dangerous threat than the red-headed fae who tortured and maimed for fun. But there was. The king of Hybern was unpredictable and lethal at best, let alone what he was like at his worst.

Feyre now knew that she had underestimated him, underestimated his influence over the Spring Court.

“Do you really love him?” Lucien’s voice cut through the silence and darkness. Feyre could barely see him, even with her heightened fae senses, but she knew that he was also chained in the green adamant that severed her from her magic.

“Are you talking about Rhys or Tamlin?”

He scoffed in reply and the tension in him was palpable from where Feyre was chained to the floor in the opposite corner of the room.

“I meant Tamlin, but I guess answering about one answers for another,” Lucien gritted through his teeth.

Feyre could hear in his voice that he was trying not to cry, was trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to wreck his body.

“I loved Tamlin so much that I was willing to destroy myself for him, before and after being Made. But we broke Lucien. Our relationship was as splintered as my human body was and after I healed… he wasn’t what I wanted or needed anymore, and I couldn’t be that for him either. I don’t think anyone in the Spring Court ever truly realised how locking me in this house would impact on me. I already felt like I was trapped in a cage, and when the moment came that I actually was? Thank the mother that Rhys saved me, Lucien. Because I have no doubt that I would have obliterated myself and everything in my path to get out again.” Feyre paused, considering how to put her next words. “I’m… I’m sorry that he died, Lucien.”

At that, at the reminder of his High Lord and best friend’s death, Lucien could no longer hold in his sobs.

Everyone thought he was so horrible,” Lucien managed to say, “but he was trying Feyre and I swear to you the man he was before we went Under the Mountain didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be flayed like an animal. Did you know he always gave me the choice about whether I went to the Autumn Court or not? Even though I was his emissary, I was never forced. You told me once how noble it was of Rhysand to let his cousin murder her family if she pleased because of what they did to her, but sometimes the brave thing is letting them live. If all my brothers died I would be heir to the Autumn Court, and both Tam and I knew that if I was I would be stuck there forever. He changed after the curse, but he was still my friend. And he changed again after being Under the Mountain, but he was still my friend.”

“Please stop crying,” Feyre begged. Lucien’s confessions only made her cry herself, cry because of the pain her friend felt, and because of the man who would never have a chance to redeem himself.

“I’m sorry for what he did to you, Feyre. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t help you and I’m sorry I let him make that cauldron damned deal with that monster. I’m sorry that you found something to live for and we took you from it.”

Feyre wrapped her arms around herself, as if that could protect her from the reality of the situation that they were in.

“I forgive you, Lucien. No matter what we’ve been through, you are my friend, and after all this is over you will have a place in my Court.” Feyre said with as much conviction as she could muster.

Lucien grunted in response.

They both knew that it was unlikely they would ever see the light of another day.

_____

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!” The High Lord of the Night Court screeched.

He stood in front of the members of his inner circle, two of which had been in the Spring Court when the king of Hybern branded Feyre and Lucien traitors and sentenced them to execution, but not before torturing and killing Tamlin to show that he was by no means bluffing.

“Something must have happened- she must have slipped up somehow. We knew that this was going to happen eventually, Rhys, now we just need to plan how to save her. We have the time and we the have resources.” Cassian said using the same voice he used to command Rhys’s armies. It was authoritative, commanding, and had led Rhys to victory countless times. Now was different though, Rhys couldn’t think straight.

His talons had fully extended on both his hands and feet, and he knew that his skin was changing to the purplish black of his other form.

Rhys knew that if he looked in the mirror he wouldn’t have whites in his eyes, or a pupil. He would just have the strange purple of his iris.

“Do you know where she’s being kept, Azriel?” Rhys asked.

The use of his full name was a blow that Az wasn’t expecting.

He and Mor had been at the Spring Court when Feyre had been dragged away kicking and screaming, but there was nothing they could do. Mor had them glamoured, and any reaction besides nonchalance would have garnered attention that would have put both them and Feyre in jeopardy. They were there on specific orders: do not draw attention to yourselves, do not speak to anyone unless necessary and do not approach Feyre. This was an unusual task for the soul reason that usually Az could’ve gotten the information he needed from his spies.

They should have known that something would go seriously wrong when all of Azriel’s spies turned up dead.

“Yes, Rhys. She and Lucien are being kept in the dungeons below the mansion. We’ve already established the rotation of the guard and that the king has left and won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon, when we presume he will execute them.”

“Then we don’t waste any time. Cassian,” Rhys turned to his still healing General, “make a plan, we’ll enact it in an hour. Don’t waste time, use as many resources as you need- armies, spies, I don’t care. Just find me a way to bring her home.”

“Of course, Rhys.” It was clear that Cassian, along with everyone else, was devastated about Feyre’s fate, and would do anything to save her.

Rhys turned to leave- he needed to find a way to control his shifting, but was interrupted by his Second.

“We have another thing to think about.” Amren’s eyebrows were raised in question. “What are we to do about Lucien? Rescuing just Feyre would make the mission easier, but you need to consider the repercussions of his death.”

Rhys groaned in frustration. He hadn’t thought of Lucien, hadn’t even considered saving him, but Amren was right.

Saving Feyre would make this monumentally easier, but if Lucien died…

Feyre would never forgive herself, and not only that but Rhys had to think of Elain as well. Lucien was undoubtedly her mate, and even though they had met only once, his death would ruin her.

“Save him,” Rhys ordered, “but if it comes to a choice between saving his life and Feyre’s, you know what to do.”

Amren nodded and Rhys left the room.

_____

It had been four and a half hours since the meeting, and Cassian had yet to think of a solid plan to save Feyre. They basically had two options.

Firstly, they could hit with an aerial force and try to forcefully get her out. This could lead to riots and a premature war.

Secondly, they could go in with a special team and try to subtly take her away without raising much alarm.

Rhys had another idea though, one he knew Cassian would never approve of and one he was going to do anyway.

______

Feyre was freezing. It was so cold in the room that she could see her own breath when she breathed and goosebumps covered her skin.

She was tired, and drained, and the cauldron damned chains that bound her cut off her connection to Rhys.

All she wanted was so talk to him once more, just once. So that she could tell him all the things that she needed to, like the indescribable way she loved him, and how she knows that he’ll win this war and hopes he finds happiness. She wants to tell him not to give up, even if she can no longer be there to guide him, that she wished she could’ve kissed him just once more and lastly, she wants him to love again.

“I’m glad we’re not alone,” Feyre whispered to Lucien. She didn’t know if he was conscious, but she said it anyway.

“It was an honour to know you, Feyre.” He murmured in return.

Feyre couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes.

She could hear the footsteps of the fae that was here to talk Lucien and her to their fates, and wished she could’ve had more time.

The footsteps were hurried and urgent. Whatever questions Feyre had about the kind of torture the king of Hybern would inflict upon her and Lucien was soon to be answered.

The door opened, flooding the room with light and to both her and Lucien’s surprise, the latter of which blanched away from the figure at the door, Rhysand appeared.

“Feyre,” He breathed.

He strode into the room and fell to his knees in front of his mate. Using his talons, he slashed through her chains.

Feyre let out a heart wrenching sob, wrapping her arms around Rhys as soon as she was free.

Rhys,” She cried.

He pushed her to arms length and quickly flickered his eyes up and down her body to see if she was critically injured in any way.

“We need to go. Now.” He stepped up and holding her hands helped her up too.

Buzzing with nervous energy and anxiety, Rhys stepped towards Lucien.

Lucien, expecting a death blow, flinched in surprise when Rhysand’s talons, rather than slitting his throat, started to break his chains as well. Lucien didn’t comment, he didn’t want to let a good opportunity go to waste.

When they were broken and Lucien was able to stand and move again, Rhys pinned him to the wall with a hand around his throat.

Lucien let out a chocked sound, hands clawing at Rhys’s, trying to get them away.

“Rhys!”

“Hush, Feyre darling. This will only take a second.” Rhys leaned close to Lucien’s face, trying (and succeeding) to be as threatening as possible. “I have no doubt my mate has offered you a place in our Court, and you are welcome to accept it, little Lucien. You will have a home, you will have a family, and probably what is most important, you will have Elain if she wishes. But know now, if you betray our Court I will slit your throat and make what that dick king do to Tamlin look like a mercy killing. Do you understand?”

Lucien searched for any clues of deception on Rhys face, and deciding that for now he could be trusted nodded as much as he could with Rhys hand still squeezing his neck.

Rhys immediately released him, but not before thundering steps could be heard storming down the steps that led to the dungeon.

“Ah it seems it’s time for us to leave.” Rhysand gripped Lucien’s elbow in one hand, and wrapped his arm around Feyre’s waist with the other. Grinning at Lucien, he said, “Let me show you how a real man can winnow,” and they became darkness and smoke.

______

Cassian was fuming at the actions of his brother.

Not only did he leave to save Feyre without consulting him, he didn’t tell anyone he was pissing off. It wasn’t until Azriel’s shadows whispered to him that the Spring Court mansion was on fire and the flames had been started after 12 Hybern sentires had been cruxified and set alight, while they were still alive, that they all realised Rhys had gone to save his wife alone.

His actions were drastic, over-complicated, and practically asking for something to go wrong. One fault in Rhys’s plan and the Night Court would have lost both the High Lady and High Lord in a matter of hours.

Cassian was preparing troops to march into the Spring Court to save his ass when Rhys appeared with Feyre and Lucien in tow.

Any negative feelings went away when they appeared.

You fucking idiots,” He spat as he walked over to Feyre and Rhys and enveloped them in a hug.

Feyre clung to the General, who she missed dearly while she was at the Spring Court, careful of his frail wings.

“It’s nice to see you too, Cassian.” Feyre laughed.

“What were you thinking, Rhys? What were you thinking?! Next time you go off on a bullshit mission like that tell me, okay? For fucks sake I was preparing a whole war band to come save your sorry ass.” Cassian may have been chastising his brother, but they both knew that he was simply relieved at their safe return.

Feyre turned to where Lucien was awkwardly standing a few feet away, his head bowed and hands clasped behind his back. This wasn’t a show of cowardice or submission, but simply a male trying to deal with such an onslaught of emotion. To lose his best friend, nearly die, and change courts all in one day… Feyre thought it was miraculous that her friend was still standing.

Feyre stood back from her husband and his brother. “Cassian,” she asked, “would you mind taking Lucien to the House of Wind and explaining a few things?”

Cassian dipped his head in understanding and moved toward Lucien. Feyre stopped him with a hand on his elbow as he passed her and muttered into his ear, “I believe Elain is there as well. Make sure Nesta doesn’t meddle, he’s been through enough.”

Cassian acquiesced and moved forward.

Lucien gave Feyre a small goodbye, before being led out of the room.

Feyre and Rhys were alone at last, for the first time in months.

They crashed together, lips meeting in a passionate, desperate kiss. His hands instantly wrapped around her frame as her hands buried themselves in his hair.

I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.” Feyre wept.

“Never again. Never again will we separate, okay? This is it. I can’t lose you, Feyre. I am yours, and I would be nothing without you.” Rhys kissed her again, one hand around her waist and the other now angled her jaw so that he could deepen the kiss further.

“Take me, Rhys. Right here, right now. I need to feel you again. I need to feel you before we go to fight this damned war. Show me that I’m yours and you are mine.” She pleaded, not that she needed to.

Rhys grabbed her to winnow her to their home, but Feyre stopped him by grabbing the hem of his pants and pulling him against her roughly.

“I was promised a wall, Rhys.”

He grinned and conceded to her wants. Conceded so hard the pictures fell off the wall.

Why I Feel Zuko’s Betrayal Was To End Zutara

I touched on this a little in my last analysis, but I suggested the idea that Zuko’s decision to join Azula in Ba Sing Se was not the natural organic progression of his character arc, but something Bryke decided upon later to eliminate the possibility of Zuko being Katara’s love interest. It’s a pretty bold claim, so am I just a delusional Zutarian? I pointed out some of the things that didn’t make sense about Zuko and Azula’s actions in that essay that I wanna elaborate on. 

I wish I could believe the betrayal was a purposeful narrative decision to demonstrate the moral fallibility of man…but I don’t. I really do believe it was for the stupid shipping. I hate that I even have to say that, honestly, because it seems so petty to distort a main character’s arc just to allow a preferred pairing to happen. But given how childish and condescending Bryke have been to some of the most passionate fans of their show (myself included), just for enjoying the Zuko/Katara romantic dynamic, I find this entirely in the realm of possibility. They also butchered the concept of opening the Crown Chakra (supposed to be a transcendental spiritual experience in Eastern philosophy) by having Aang get shoved into a rock wall, and lobotomized Katara beyond recognition in the comics, just to pair Aang and Katara, so hey, why not Zuko, too? Speaking of Zuko…

We get an idea of who he is early on in Book 1. This is at the height of his intense obsession to capture the Avatar. He is still a loyal Fire Nation soldier at this point, and still has complete faith in his father, yet when he sees an opportunity to choose between the Avatar and his uncle, he chooses the latter. Early on, the story is trying to let the viewer know what type of person Zuko is and what his priorities are. He is angry, and obsessive, but not coldhearted enough to abandon his family that he loves.

After Zuko nearly gets killed by the pirates, Iroh is afraid of losing him, like Lu Ten.  Again, we see Zuko highly regards his uncle’s feelings. It upsets him to see his uncle get so emotional.

We see this again in Book 2, while he still is devoted to capturing Aang. Zuko temporarily splits up from his uncle in an attempt to fend for himself and he runs into the Avatar and his sister, and fights them. Iroh finally reunites with his nephew in time for Azula to attack him, leaving him very wounded. Although Aang is still in the vicinity and Azula is gone, Zuko completely forgets all about that and nearly has a nervous breakdown. He is literally trembling. Even when Katara offers to heal Iroh, he is so distraught and angry at himself that he doesn’t even seem to hear her offer. He not only loses interest in the Avatar, he wants them to get away from him

In the next episode he stays by his side and tends to him until he is recovered. And a few episodes later we see that Zuko is sensitive to his Uncle’s pain, and he stops when he hears Iroh uncomfortable. He clearly has empathy for Iroh. The story is literally going out of its way to tell you how much he cares about his uncle.

After making the moral decision to let Appa go, Zuko has a crisis of conscience so intense it results in psychosomatic illness. He has to confront who he really is. He has eerie dreams that symbolize his biggest fears. His sitting coldly and distantly on the throne symbolizes his fear of becoming like his father and grandfather. The two dragons representing Iroh and Azula symbolize his fear of making the wrong choice. His mother crying symbolizes his fear of disappointing her last request to him and losing himself.  And finally, him seeing himself as Aang in the mirror represents perhaps his greatest fear: that his sworn enemy might not be so different from him after all. The end result of this experience?

He is happier than ever! I have heard people say that Zuko behaved out of character in this episode. I would say they are completely missing the point. His happy demeanor indicates that he has made peace with the decision to let Appa go, and is no longer going to obsess over his old life. His relationship with Iroh is warmer and closer than ever.  

Now we see Zuko genuinely start to bond with Katara. He knows she is the Avatar’s best friend and still opens up to her, something he has an extremely difficult time doing to anyone. He tells her his old destiny felt like a curse to him, and he’s realizing he can change it. He even lets her touch his scar. If he had any lingering desire to capture Aang at this point, this behavior makes no sense whatsoever.

These are all obvious attempts to let the viewer see into Zuko’s mindset, and if the story was intending to foreshadow some kind of eventual betrayal, they did an absolutely horrible job. Large plot twists that completely change the trajectory of a character’s personality should not come out of nowhere like they did in this episode. I get that characters don’t always progress upwards. They hit bumps and plateaus. But this isn’t backsliding. But this is falling off the entire damn mountain and into a 100 foot ditch.

Yet another strange inconsistency I noticed had to do with the comic, Going Home Again, which takes place after the Crossroads of Destiny. In the catacombs, Zuko obviously must have wanted to go home really badly; enough to betray his uncle. Yet in the comic, which did have some involvement by Aaron Ehasz, Zuko is adamantly opposed to the idea. Azula tries to manipulate him to come back, using Mai, but she’s unsuccessful. It’s only when Iroh is seen by Zuko in chains that he decided to return again. So my question is: Which is it? Is he motivated by restoring his honor, or his love for his uncle? Why is this so confusing!? It’s things like this that have me utterly convinced that the original story was going to have Azula manipulate Zuko to come home against his will, and this comic has shades of that original intent.

This is why I believe it was Bryke’s idea. Their poor, out of character writing in the comics and in Korra, like having Aang and Katara agree to kill Zuko, one of their best friends, when Aang couldn’t even kill Ozai, leaves me no choice but to think this. Like I said in my last analysis, there were far more sensible ways, more consistent with both Zuko and Azula’s characterization, to get Zuko to go back to the Fire Nation. What could possibly have been the need to take such a drastic change of course to a main character’s personality in stark opposition to literally all their previous development? Plot twists like this are not made without an author’s intent to fundamentally alter aspects of the story. What did Zuko’s betrayal actually accomplish narratively that him being forced to return (like I think he originally was going to be) wouldn’t? Let’s start with some possibilities.

1. Demonstrating Zuko’s Flaws

As if that were at all necessary. Zuko is the most flawed character in the story already, and has more than enough reason to need the Gaang’s forgiveness, even without the betrayal. He chased Team Avatar for an entire season, stole a nice woman’s ostrich horse, and even left his uncle all alone and worried about him for several episodes. I highly doubt the reason Zuko betrayed them was to demonstrate his imperfections. We already know Zuko has done bad things to the Gaang and his uncle. At that point, it was redundant.

2. Combustion Man

Now here’s a villain with a whole lot of thought put into him. No name, no backstory, no dialogue, no explanation of how Zuko finds him or how he’s able to track Aang or why he wasn’t hired a long ass time ago if everyone’s so confident he can kill the Avatar. Who needs Zhao or Azula when you’ve got this guy, right? He’s barely even a character. Gee, it’s almost like he was an extremely late afterthought to the story to show how “bad” Zuko has become. Or maybe Zuko’s little joke that Azula would have hired him was gonna be true? Who can say. What does he accomplish for the narrative? Well, he has a few fight scenes, but he is hardly indispensable to the plot. Other than that, he serves as a way for Zuko to demonstrate his intentions to the Gaang by protecting them. And in that respect, I’d argue he actually accomplishes the opposite. Zuko’s betrayal nearly resulted in Aang and Katara’s deaths; and then later hiring an assassin to finish the job, it actually makes the Gaang’s decision to trust him so fast and then letting Aang go travel alone with him in the very next episode, completely implausible.

Again, If Zuko never betrayed anyone, he wouldn’t even be necessary for that purpose and everything would make a lot more sense. Exactly why I think the original version of the story had to have been different and all of this was tweaked later on. It’s just too nonsensical.

3. Zuko’s Relationship With Iroh

Zuko’s reunion with Iroh is a very touching and emotional scene. Iroh forgives Zuko so fast, you would almost think he had never even thrown him in jail in the first place. Hmmm. Could that have been the original script? He instantly embraces him and then goes on to call him an “idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor.” His relationship with his uncle is unchanged from before and his reunion would be just as, if not more, emotional without the betrayal. I doubt the decision to have Zuko join Azula in Ba Sing Se had anything to do with demonstrating how forgiving Iroh is. We already knew that from the Book 2 premiere when he forgives Zuko calling him a “shallow, lazy old man who’s always been jealous of his brother” and when he forgives Zuko for taking off on his own leaving him behind. So what is the one thing to be significantly impacted in the story by Zuko’s betrayal?

4. Zuko’s Relationship to Katara

Sadly, I think we found our answer here. Katara hates Zuko until pretty much the very end of the story. Of all the things to result from his betrayal, this is the only one that really has any meaningful impact. I really doubt this is a coincidence. It’s hard not to come to the conclusion that this was about shipping and that they knew that if Zuko didn’t “go bad”, he’d simply be too much competition for the hero as a love interest. And that is really sad. Gotta make sure Zuko and Katara get as little positive moments as possible.

This could have been such an impactful moment with a lot of meaning. Zuko choosing not to tell Azula about the Spirit Water. Unlike when interacting with Mai, Azula, and Ozai, the unscarred side of Zuko’s face is shown when thinking about Katara in this episode. It could have (and likely originally was going to since Aaron Ehasz wrote it) symbolized his desire to protect her and Aang, having some lingering grateful feelings for her extremely kind gesture to heal him. Something that would have meant a lot to Zuko, considering how much the scar made him feel like he was “marked.”

In the Boiling Rock episode Zuko helped rescue her dad, and they might have had a nice connection here. Look how happy she was. And him, too! Ironically, in the next episode she hates him and is angry with him for the death of her mother. A weird choice of place, story-wise. Almost as if the original version of the story may have been different. I guess we’ll never know.

Maybe some people would wonder how the events of The Southern Raiders would have transpired if not to involve Katara forgiving Zuko for Ba Sing Se. Well, it wouldn’t have been too hard to come up with a slightly altered scenario to accomplish that. Perhaps it would be near the anniversary of Katara’s mom’s death, and Katara is in a pretty bad mood in general remembering it. Zuko tends to take things personally, so he starts thinking Katara hates him and asks Sokka for help (funny scene and all). He finds out about her mom, and immediately feels guilty. After all, at one point as an enemy he used the last remaining memento of her deceased mother to try to capture Aang. It would then be natural for him to want to make up for this and help her find closure. It could have been a nice bonding episode like Elizabeth Ehasz wanted it to be.

Well, this has been a pretty long rant, but Zuko and Katara are two of my favorite fictional characters of all time and it saddens me to see how much Bryke squandered their potential, not even just as a couple, but as characters, for their inane shipping agenda. It’s just a shame.

Impact (chapter 3)

“Oliver, are you serious?” Barry asked as they sat at a table in Big Belly Burger. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”

Oliver took a swallow from the glass of water in front of him.  “Barry, we’ve been here before. You went back to save everybody after Savage used that Staff. I don’t remember any major changes from that.”

Barry shook his head. “No,” he replied. “Except that you changed everything about your relationship with Felicity. Oliver, I tried to warn you that when someone or something messes with time, it fights back.”

Oliver felt the remorse and guilt from the time Barry mentioned. It tried to creep back into his heart. “Barry, my lie to Felicity was not because you went back and reset everything. That did not stop me from ignoring the second chance I got to make things right with her. I screwed that one up all by myself.”

“When I went back and saved my mother,” Barry added. “This whole timeline changed. I caused Cisco’s brother to die.” Barry lowered his head and fell back into that guilt. “I changed people’s lives, even Diggle’s. I took away his daughter. My life even changed. Into what, I still don’t know. But I had both my parents back and life was normal.”

Oliver listened to what Barry was saying. He knew asking Barry to go back and stop William from running out into the street could change the timeline again. But Oliver also knew that if he did nothing, William was going to die. He wasn’t sure if he could come back from that. Every time Oliver looked at his son, he was reminded of everything else he lost in his life that made him stand on the edge of pure grief. And if William should die, he would surely go over it. The only thing that might possibly save him, the only person, would be Felicity. Felicity’s refusal to accept his plan was the right one. Oliver was not ignorant to what could happen. But he felt it wasn’t a lie he would telling her this time. He wanted her to feel the same as he did—do whatever it takes to save lives. He felt more shame squeeze harder in his heart.

“Barry,” he rejoined the conversation. “I can’t think of any other way to save my son. I mean, we’re talking about going back just three days here. It’s just blip. How bad can things really get?”

“Well,” Barry answered. “First Felicity would kill me if I go along with this. Second, Iris would kill me if I go along with this. Cisco already hates me for what I did to his life. Caitlyn too. Oliver, I understand what you’re going through with William. If I had any control at all over changing things in the past, even three days ago, I would already be on my way to help you.”

Oliver felt the desperation and frustration grow larger in him.

“Oliver, did you…did you talk to Felicity about this?”

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, I tried to. She…she slapped my face.”

“Well, some things will never change,” Barry said to Oliver, smiling. But Oliver was a stone statue staring back. Barry knew that look and he began to shift in his chair. “Oliver, Felicity was right…uh, not slapping you…she was right to be afraid. Yet, you called me.”

Oliver did not respond.

“Oliver, I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. I’m not telling you how to think and what to feel. But, well, the last time you went behind Felicity’s back…”

Barry!” Oliver’s voice rose a couple octaves and the couple in the booth next to them glanced over. Oliver lowered his voice. “Barry, Felicity is…she is feeling a ton of guilt over what happened to William. It wasn’t her fault…” Oliver stopped and let the shame wash over him even implying that it was. “If I can talk you into this, not only will William come back, but I can take Felicity’s…I can make everything alright.”

Barry was still not convinced. “Oliver, this is not a solution. I want to help you…lord knows you have gone that extra mile for me on several occasion. But the damage I could cause through Flashpoint would erase any good intentions you have. Felicity understands the risks. So does Iris and Cisco. Some of the choices I’ve made over the last year—I’m still living with the outcome.”

Oliver abruptly stood up. “Okay Barry,” he said in a constrained voice. “I get it. You’re afraid. Felicity is afraid. And Iris? You married her, Barry. That doesn’t seem to be such a horrible outcome. And Cisco, he’s a meta. You and he have a lot more in common than you think. The same thing with Caitlyn. This is what we do when we put on our masks. We fight against the darkness. We got out and save people. We make a difference, Barry. My son needs to be saved. Please, help me make a difference.

This time Barry had nothing to say.

Oliver took his wallet out and put $20.00 on the table. “I said I would buy you lunch. Go ahead and order something.”

“Oliver…”

But Oliver was already heading for the door.

**

Felicity was drifting in and out of sleep. She had pushed her chair closer to William’s bed. Looking at him, at his bruised face and battered body, Felicity wanted to take his pain away, wanted him to turn to her and smile.

But what Oliver was proposing only gave her more to worry about. Both of them seemed to be regressing over this crisis. They were letting fear and anger and guilt control their actions and reactions. That Oliver would even consider risking Flashpoint was shocking. Yet, she knew he was trying to save his son. She knew the lengths he would go to to save those closest to him. Felicity had been his motivation on a number of occasions. Oliver was trying to take an impossible situation and find the best way out of it. Felicity had told him that is one the reasons he is the man she loves. But having Barry attempt time travel, to go back and change what happened, scared her more than losing William.

William was probably not going to survive his injuries. That loss will push Oliver to the edge, maybe over it this time. He has spent the last six years saving people lives, hers included. But no one had ever saved Oliver. Oliver saved Oliver. Yes, she and John had shown him the way, but it was Oliver who made the decisions and took the actions. Was this one of those actions?

Suddenly, Felicity started to think about their night together in Nanda Parbat. She felt her love for him bring surety into her heart. She would always have that. It was a comfort zone for her whenever darkness and pain came into her life. She thought of how gentle Oliver was with her, how he softly said her name while passionately kissing her. She could see their naked bodies entwined as they brought one another to an ecstasy neither had ever known before. It was part of who she is, as it is a part of who Oliver is. It was not a memory for them. It was a light; a bright light that illuminated their hearts to each other. It was their essence. And William had become part of that joy. That night, and afterwards, was during another crisis. Oliver was giving up his life to save Thea. Felicity was not on board with that plan either. She was willing to bring the entire League of Assassins down on her to save Oliver. All she could think about was that she was not going to lose him.

Oliver’s time travel plan was not the direction she was willing to go in. She did not want to risk losing both him and William. Baby Sara turned into a boy named John, Jr. Felicity didn’t want Oliver to turn into some kind of warped person, like Black Siren and the whole Laurel debacle. Or even worse, Flashpoint could erase both Oliver and William.

So Felicity was in a quandary. One side of her did not want to have anything to do with Oliver’s certainty of his bad plan. And the other side was asking herself how was jeopardizing the entire company in Nanda Parbat any different than Oliver risking Flashpoint?

She reached out and gently took William’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But I can’t let your father make all this worse. Even if…even if you die or not.”

Felicity felt tears start to fall as she realized she was saying goodbye to William.

**

Barry paid for the cup of coffee he ordered and left Big Belly Burger.

He understood Oliver’s desperation and how he thought saving his son would make everything worth it.  Barry had the same thoughts when he went back to save his mother. Oliver was family too. He always will be. But what he was asking was not a place Barry wanted to go. He had already caused enough damage.

There was that part of Barry, (with Oliver’s help) where he made the connection all superheroes make—there is a reason why he was given his powers, why he was able make a difference. Oliver told him this just after Barry came out of his coma and discovered those powers. It is a responsibility, Oliver said to him. By helping others, you help yourself.

So Barry was conflicted as he slowly walked away from Big Belly. Could it be possible? Maybe he could control Flashpoint this time. Maybe without the emotional influence he had when he went back for his mother, maybe he could focus closer on the timeline?

Maybe, what if, possibly—questions and uncertainties went through Barry’s mind as he fought against both denying and helping his friend.

Then a sudden thought broke through all his other racing ones. It was clarity. And a plan, an answer that everyone could live with. Barry stopped on the sidewalk. The plan began to form and he was speechless that none of them had even thought of it. It was the first and only thought Oliver and Felicity had—Flashpoint. There’s no other way. Barry, you need to risk your soul. Barry was both scared and ecstatic. He could fix everything without changing anything.

Barry resumed walking down the sidewalk, but he picked up the pace a bit. Seven miles and fifteen seconds later, Barry stood in front of Star City Hospital. First, he was going to have to do something Oliver could not. He was going to convince Felicity. He was going to remind her that some things were worth fighting for, no matter what the impact of the fight might bring.

Barry walked into the hospital, his mind racing at supersonic speed.

@hope-for-olicity @louiseblue1 @tdgal1 @dmichellewrites @lovelycssefan @miriam1779 @goofy-mouse11 @it-was-a-red-heeler @c0bra5nak3

Waiting

*John Laurens × Reader
*130: I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking
*363: You have to make a choice.
*Hamiltime

A/N: my stories with Laurens always get longer then I plan…


You smiled at your dear friends. Alexander Hamilton, John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, and Marquis De Lafayette. Theses revolutionaries were celebrating. Alexander was appointed as general Washington’s right hand man. While Alex would prefer fighting to writing, you could tell that he was proud of his accomplishment.

“Come on Y/N, have a drink! It’s a celebration!” Hercules told you.

“Oh no. Someone has to stay sober to keep you idiots in line.” You told them with a smile.

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

“So Alexander, ” you said, grabbing his attention. “What does being Washington’s right hand man entail?”

“Basically write whatever he tells me. Keep accurate records and journals.” He said with a shrug. “Sure I get to fight too but I want my own battalion to lead.” You gave him a sympathetic smile. He’d wanted that for as long as you’ve had the privilege to know him and his friends.

“He acts all upset but he’s pleased with himself.” John said and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. His speech was already beginning to slur. He tipped the last of his beer into his mouth. “Imma go get ‘nother drink.” He said and hopped off his chair.

You looked after him as he went to the bar. John Laurens never really knew when to quit and was usually the one who got the whole group on trouble. Still, from the moment you met him you were captivated by him. From his dark hair to his freckles. And the way his green eyes lit up when he talked about revolution or leading the first black battalion.

He came back to the table and stumbled over his own two feet and you knew you needed to keep him from drinking any more alcohol. He put the beer down and got back in his chair. When he was situated you reached over, grabbed his beer and took a long gulp.

“Hey Y/N! That was mine.” He pouted.

“I was thirsty. Plus we’re celebrating right?” You questioned.

“Hard to celebrate without a drink.” He shot back.

“You’ve had enough mon amie.” Lafayette told him. You turned to the Frenchman and mouth 'thank you.’ He nodded in response.

“Fine Y/N can have my beer, if she pays me with a kiss.” He said with a flirty smile. You laughed. He was always like this after a few drinks, he’d flirt with any girl in his vicinity. You may like him but you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself because he flirted with you while drunk.

“No chance John.” You told him, still smiling.

“To the revolution!” Alexander suddenly shouted, holding up his drink.

“Here, here!” Responded the whole table.

The boys, while a little tipsy and stumbling, escorted you home. They always made sure to never leaving you walking home alone.

“Goodnight boys.” You said giving each of them a hug. “Stay safe please.”

“We shall try our best mademoiselle.” Lafayette said.

“Try better than your best.” You said. “I want to enjoy the free country with you guys at my side.” They bid you goodnight and you lingered on your porch watching them go. “Please stay alive.” You said quietly. You sighed and walked inside.

“I hope you weren’t out with those boys again.” You heard your mother say from the dining room. You inwardly groaned. While your parents supported the revolution they didn’t like your friends.

“And if I was?” You said walking into the dining room.

“I wish you would understand how that makes you look. Being seen at taverns with four other men. It projects a bad image.” She said.

“Your mother is right.” You father spoke up. “If you have any hope to marry someone prominent then you need to stop being seen with so many men.”

“They are just my friends. There is no harm in being with friends.” You argued.

“There is when you are a single women who has yet to marry. Honestly Y/N, you should have picked a suitor ages ago.” You mother complained.

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t find a man interesting enough to spend the rest of my life with. I’m sorry I want to be single and continue to have some fun. Someone pretty amazing will have to come along to change that.” You snapped. Someone amazing like John Laurens, you found yourself thinking.

“If you don’t activity look for a suitor your father and I will intervene.” She warned you. You just turned and went to your room.

Great, now your parents are going to start playing matchmaker and try to find you a suitor. You couldn’t tell them that you fancied John, they’d be appalled and try harder to keep you from seeing him. There was no way to fix this, all you could do way hope they’d find someone you could actually stand.

Your parents pick horrible suitors. You’d tell them that you didn’t like them and have to argue your case. Sometimes they agreed with you, other times they told you to give the person a chance. In this case you’d be rude and impolite to try and deter the man. This usually worked, much to your parents’ anger.

“They’re all just so terrible!” You whined one evening. When the boys could get away for an evening they’d come get you and you’d all go get some drinks or supper. “This latest man was so dull and his voice lacked any and all emotion.” They’d sit and listen as you complained.

John scoffed and took another long gulp from his drink. He seemed to hate these conversations. Sometimes he’d drink more than usual and other times he’d hardly drink one beer. You weren’t sure what type of night this would be.

“Anyways. Sorry to bore you guys. How’s the revolution?” You asked. John thumped his empty bottle on the table. He got up to get another drink without a word. Guess he’d be drinking a lot tonight.

“Y/N do us all a favor and go talk to Laurens.” Alexander told you.

“Huh?”

“You can talk some sense into him or he’s gonna drink himself under the table. He won’t tell us what his problem is but he’d been bothered by something lately.” Alexander explained.

“Uh ok, I’ll try.” You said.

“Thank you mademoiselle!” Lafayette said with relief in his voice.

You walked up to the bar right as John was handed another beer. You took it from his hands. “Hey!”

“No more John.” You said calmly. “Why don’t you try to stay mostly sober tonight?” You asked.

“Because I don’t want to.” He said and grabbed the beer back.

“Well I want you to.” You shot back and grabbed the bottle again.

He stilled for a moment before his features once again turned to one of annoyance. “Yeah well too bad.” He took the drink.

“John stop.” You snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you lately? You either hardly touch your drink or drink to brink of passing out. That’s not normal for you.”

“In case you didn’t realize there’s a war on. One I’m currently fighting in.”

“Oh I noticed believe me. And while you’re out fighting I’m at home on a couch listening to another man try to impress me but I can’t focus at all because I’m worried about you. You may be fighting and doing something but all I can do is worry and hope you come back in one piece!” You argued with him. “So yes I have noticed but you don’t see me drinking my way through it. Please John. Not tonight.” You pleaded.

“OK you win.” He hung his head and handed you the bottle again. You went and sat with the boys who kept going on and on about battles and soldiers. John however, was uncharacteristically quiet. Something was definitely off.

The boys were once again escorting you home. “Ugh and this up and comer is a bother as well.” They had moved on to complaining about things in this revolution. “His name is Charles Lee. I think Washington might try and promote him to general but I hope not. He’s not who’d I choose.” Alexander was saying.

You turned a corner and could see you house and an unfamiliar carriage in front. “Seriously?” You asked. “Another suiter? This is getting old.” You groaned. “I should hurry in. Thanks for the escort boys. Like always, stay safe.” You gave them all quick hugs and ran inside.

“Ah she just arrived. Y/N come here please.” You mother called. You walked into the dining room to find them talking with an unfamiliar man. However, he was wearing a blue military coat. “Y/N this is Charles Lee. He’s in the army and climbing quite quickly in the ranks.” You almost laughed at the coincidence.

“Y/N. Pleasure.” Lee said coming over to you. He grabbed you hand and bowed down and pressed a light kiss to your knuckles.

“Likewise.” You said politely. You sat through two hours of conversation politely but you understood why the boys disliked him. He was quite arrogant. He bid you goodbye and said he hoped to see you soon. “No.” You said as soon as the door was closed.

“No more of that. Lee is promising man. You will not turn him away.” You mother ordered.

“But-”

“You heard your mother.” You father interupted.

You wrote the boys about the development. The letter couldn’t even come close to explaining how angry you were. A few weeks later John Laurens was at your door.

“John what are you doing here?” You asked. It was strange to see him alone.

“I uh, I wanted to come see you after I received your letter.”

“Oh for what reason?” You asked.

“Y/N you can’t go through with this.” He said. “Please hold out until after the war. If you can wait then I can climb the ranks and become a prominent man that your parent would approve of.”

“John what are you saying?” You asked.

“Come on. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. I’ve just never had the courage to say anything before.”

“What would you say?” You asked hopefully. You had stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind you.

“This.” He stepped forward and took his face in his hands and kissed you soundly. You melted into the embrace, your arms finding their way around his neck. “I’m sorry to put you in this position but you have to make a choice. Please your parents or wait.”

“I’ll wait. I’d wait for years for you.” You told him.

“Thank you Y/N.” He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one much shorter than the last. “Now I need to head back, I’m sort of snuck out of camp.” He said sheepishly.

“Not a good way to climb the ranks Mr. Laurens.” You said with a smirk.

“Don’t you worry about it miss L/N.” He shot back.

Lee was out of line. Not only did he fail at leading during the Battle of Monmouth, he began to disparage Washington’s name.

“I can’t disobey direct orders.” Alexander said when John suggested teaching Lee a lesson.

John squared his shoulders. “Then I’ll do it.” Not only for Washington but for you. If he was disgraced in a duel your parents would be less thrilled with him. Lee could lie around being dropped from the army but not being shot in a duel.

“Alexander, you’re the closest friend I’ve got.” John told him as a way of asking for support.

“Laurens do not throw away your shot.” Alexander warned.

Summon all the courage you require then count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, number 10 paces.

FIRE!

Laurens spun quickly and fired off a round hitting Lee in the side. Burr called a yield and before everyone could scatter, Washington was on site. Alexander took the fall.

“A duel. And he lost!” You heard you mother shouting from the foyer.

“What’d going on?” You asked.

“Well it turns out Lee not only was dropped from the military but he was also in a duel and lost.” She said.

“Not so perfect then.” You said as you dropped into a chair.

“Watch your tone young lady.” You mother warned. “Not to worry, we’ll find you someone else.”

“Mother.” You said tentatively. “What if I found someone?”

“That depends on who you find.” She said. Before you could speak up their was a knock on the door. You mother opened it and John was there.

“Excuse me is this the L/N residence?” He asked although he had walked you home enough to know.

“Yes. May I ask why you wish to know?” You mom asked him.

“Well I understand your daughter’s potential suiter was Charles Lee and I’m sure you know he lost and duel today and any title in the military as well. I suppose that means you don’t want him courting your daughter?” He asked. He had an air of confidence and a perfect gentlemen right now. Your mother had even let him into the foyer.

“No of course not.” You father said.

“Then may ask your permission to court her?” He asked. You gasped, this wasn’t going to end well. John was still only a soldier with no title and nothing to show for it. They were going to shoot him down.

“Why would we allow that?” You mother asked.

“Because Ma'am, I’m the soldier who beat Lee in the duel.” He said.

“You what?!” You asked forgetting what was happening. “What do I always tell you?! I tell you to stay safe! How is dueling safe?!”

“Uh Y/N, not now please…” he said quietly making you remember what was happening.

“Wait a minute.” Your mother said. Crap. “You’re one of those soldiers she is always with.”

“Yes that is true. But I did in fact beat Lee and am hoping to have my own battalion at the end of this war.” He said.

You parents were quiet. You were hopeful. John had an air of confidence you had never seen from him before. You hoped it was enough.

“We’ll allow it.” Your mother said.

“Yes!” You exclaimed. Then John had his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace.

“Thank you for choosing me.” He whispered to you.

Blast From The Past: Part 14

Pairing: Reader x Bucky
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: Angst (as per usual)

A/N: Sorry if the Russian is wrong, I just used google translate. I’m not great at writing from another characters POV, and it’s my first time writing from Nat’s. I usually see Nat conveyed as someone who has complete control over every emotion, and while I agree that’s probably what she’s like, I tried to illustrate that this news affected her so much that she couldn’t help it. If it sucks, I’m sorry! 

Feedback is always appreciated. Let me know if you want to be added to the tags list.

Part 1 // Part 13

“How?” you intended to angrily shout, but your voice only came out in a strangled whisper

At 15 you watched your father die on that roof top. You held his dead body and mourned. You couldn’t comprehend how he was standing in front of you, 40 years later.

He cocks an eyebrow at you, “I thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” he sighs when the confused expression doesn’t leave your features, “Well, I always did expect more from you,”

“I watched you die,” you whisper,

“No, you didn’t. You watched what I wanted you to. I set up the whole thing. The boy that shot me, he was a young recruit,”

“Why?” you surprise yourself when you yell at your father, “Why would you do that to me? I was 15!”

“I needed to give you motivation. I was grooming you for Hydra, but you needed that…” he clicked his fingers looking for the right words, “You needed an extra push. To become exceptional,”

“You faked your death so that I would become a Winter Soldier?!” you could feel your anger threatening to boil over.

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