the land of spirit and light

Originally posted by slk-t

🌾 A spell for a good harvest 🌾

You’ll need:

🌱 Egg shells

🌱 Sun water

🌱 Bay leaves

🌱 Powdered garlic

🌱 A mortar and pestle

🌱 Sandalwood incense

🌱 Bottle/container

Method:

🌱 Set up and call upon any deities/spirits you like. Take time to meditate too if needed.

🌱 Light the incense. Take each individual ingredient and pass it through the smoke.

🌱 Place each ingredient except the sun water into the bowl and start crushing them into each other using the mortar and pestle.

🌱 Make sure the sun water is in a decent sized container. Add the crushed up mixture to the water and shake.

🌱 Now, line the edge of your property that you grow your plants in with the mixture. If there’s a lot of land, put some in each corner.

🌱 Walk around the entire area clockwise, chanting: ‘Our harvest is plenty.’

🌱 Now wait for a good harvest to come! You may want to repeat this every few months.

EVERY STAR IS A MIRROR 

Aries ~ The snowflakes of Pisces winter fall and death embraces the zodiac.
Sweet, sensual death. Evaporating into the divine, deep in the hollows. And the further we go into darkness, the brighter the light within us shines
Bursting to awaken with the first sound of spring, bluebirds echo in the Aries ear, calling… calling… calling….
bring back life, colour, and god’s delight to the bleakness
Special child of the divine, still held in heaven’s arms, waiting to be born like an exploding nebula, scattering pieces of itself everywhere out of curiosity and enthusiasm. Follow the sound of bloom, the fresh smell of spring, the feeling of warmth beginning to saturate your spirit once more
the earth’s revered child has finally been born. The zodiac begins

Taurus ~ 
As a child of Venus, Taureans navigate the world through their senses. The fresh air of nature, trees, flowers and wildlife is extremely therapeutic and stimulating for them. They are often acutely sensitive to the seasons and weather changes. There is a real need for contact with nature, which and many Taureans fill the roles of farmers, gardeners, horticulturists or artists who use natural materials. One of the male images of Taurus is that of the green man, the male fertility principle. This sign is the closest manifestation material purity, and their sensory alertness allows them to connect to the five sense experience like no other. They can make universes out of empty sketchbooks, make homes out of half crescent Moons and heatwaves through their determination and spirit. This is all four seasons rolled into one.

Gemini ~
Gemini provides a dazzling display of how the mind works. This
mad instrument in all of its
glory and its chaos, its genius and dissociation, its ability to create patterns and puzzles and spin the world upside down. Gemini is like a literal
mind fuck, you know one minute you are traveling 200,00 miles an hour down one road, into philosophy and corruption of the military
and then you have a drunk child on your hands, unable to focus or sit still for a moment. Geminis orgasm can come from conversation, communing with a mind, or meeting an intellect, someone who will talk their ear off all night
conveying hypnotizing facts and knowledge. Gemini is always
the student and the teacher, forever threading the information inside onto
silver wings and blowing them into the ether. They touch people through
language, through the way they weave words together to create
laughter or conversation or sheer delight. Gemini is spinning deliriously in a
world of thought, crossing the borderlines, doing the thinking for both dark and light. Gemini is a book of mysteries inside 


Cancer ~ 
Cancers have a surreal experience of time. It can melt through their mind
like dripping honey. The sound of clocks can be intimidating. They need music and oneness, the rhythm of stars. The moon rules Cancer, and before the 30-31 day calendar, we followed the cycle of the moon, a 28 day ‘month’, stemming from ‘mon’, or ‘moon’.
And now we live separate from nature, and the Cancer is pulled between materialism and delirium, unsure of what is completely real. But from this conflict evokes a brilliant prophet in the Cancer, a crystal ball that conjures the inner world’s most marvellous vision. Spirit guides reside in the 4th house.
So the Cancer can hear thoughts, and these are thoughts of their guide. They can receive intuitive knowledge about the past, a place where the Cancer dwells comfortably, they can be the conduit for ancestral inheritance and the protection of passed descendants, they can swim on a river of divination, because their psychic imagination is so acute. When they fear their own safety, this vision can become dark and volatile. Fear is Cancer’s most destructive poison.


Leo ~ It’s the centre of a star that bursts from Leo
and they are pure magic, a splendid cosmic artwork mixed with dripping sun maple and  the manifestation of divine creative power.
the Leo can stare at themselves and see the universe in their reflection, a flickering light of God burning behind their eyes,
constellations made of broken capillaries, sweetness and softness.
And there is the roar of the Leo lion, a heart that beats a tattoo
in their chest because it is overflowing with love, passion, and desire. The Leo has painted every sparkling essence of time and space with their
enchanted paintbrush, that mind is a visual display of milky way fireworks, heaven is a place on earth with Leo.
But the Leo can also look in the mirror and see a black hole. It isn’t always so vein and conceited. every flaw echoes so loudly. The Leo just wants to be loved, simply for who they are. Not their fortune, or photographs, or profound generosity. Only the bravest hearts are born under the sign of Leo. It’s sensitive and spirited,
ravishing and regal


Virgo ~ 
The lines and poetry of sacred geometry and mechanical movement come to life before the Virgo eyes. Sacred geometry is the sort of experience the Ancients believed was nourishing for the soul. Virgo becomes intimate with the earth and its divine faculties with more voracity than any sign. There are details perceivable to only the  Virgo, like nervous signals jump from their fingertips into their surroundings and electrify the invisible engineering. The Virgo individual is very sensitive to elements, precision, accuracy, and seemingly insignificant components, but nothing is simple to the Virgo, and they recognise
the duty and usefulness of everything, the whole dynamic of seasons and earth, the equilibrium and the silent movement. This is what makes Virgo tremendous at occult studies, specifically those requiring analysis like astrology and numerology, and those involving healing properties like minerals and witchcraft. Through intense observation of surroundings, through holding a
microscope to every leaf and flower, through watching the reverent dance of the sunrise as they measure the motion by time, they identify with the part of themselves that is infinite. They can unify with the part of themselves that is pure, that is untainted awareness and magnificence and beauty. 


Libra ~ 
With Libra we have the Snow White pages. the innocent beauty who does not know the seduction of her aura, the distressed belle who waits for a prince to save her, despite easily outwitting and serving justice better than any man who takes their hand. and in the antithetical pole, the wretched self consciousness. After Virgo has achieved personal perfection, she wants to be the fairest of them all. she evokes the images of others as she attempts to be all things, a glorious figment. they are the enchanted mirror, although they look into their own searching for others and answers. Libra is every character, the enchanting snow is the jewel in her heart and the melody in her love of people. And the witch, her voices of self resonance. Saturn exalts in Libra and the stepmother is an expression of the domineering Saturn parent, often leaving impossible idealism in the child. The notes of empty comparison against others that wither her supple apple cheeks into dried roses and destroy every venus valley. 


Scorpio ~ 
The human world is rarely enough for Scorpio. That can be why they provoke people’s souls, they want to see your insides, your darkness, your light. They can seem spiritually provocative, it’s like they know how to draw madness out of lovers, they can sense the unseen, they can experience states that question existence. And nothing is ever enough.
They don’t want a lover. They want a reunion with a soul mate, their soul. They don’t want sex. They want angelic intimacy, the evaporation of bodies into intwined ether. Scorpio is preparing for death, but they don’t want to leave without truly tasting life. The superficial is rarely enough for Scorpio. They are discontent swimming in shallow waters. They become easily bored when their brilliant mind is under stimulated and unchallenged, they become distracted into unconscious trance when people are dull. And the Scorpio cannot force conversation. There are holes in the world that only Scorpio can see, and they will crawl into one when this world is not enough. 


Sagittarius ~
After emergence from the deep Scorpio tomb, the Sagittarius hybrid spirit soars far and wide. The Sagittarius wisdom operates from the laws of nature, stars, archetypes, the Akashic records, the higher mind, and culture. It embodies the divine chant of laughter, the publication and interpretation of symbols, mythology, theology, and religion.
Here is the quest for the meaning of life, the pilgrimage to unknown regions in search of understanding and the materialisation of belief. It could be travel, education, relationships, indulgence in intoxicants, or nomadic wandering through religion. The Sagittarius guru is the scholar. His temple is filled with books, compasses, astrology notes, and artifacts from every country. He uses comedy for his teachings and applies experience to philosophy and scripture. Waiting in the middle of winter, the Sagittarius speaks many languages and knows many ways of life.
He is approachable and warm, filled with light and spice. Even with the wrinkles of time, the spirit of youth always radiates. Old as the trees and free as a bird, as young as the sunrise and as old as the night.


Capricorn ~ 
To stand on top of the mountain, to stare over the edge of the midheaven, sometimes all you would ever
see would be your own shadow. And the Capricorn’s shadow can linger like a heavy fog, always threatening, always concerning. At her peak, she radiates like a Mistress of Brilliance, she has scaled the land and sea, starred in her
own dream and written her own success story. She has stood behind people and encouraged their ascent
in her graces she has climbed and flown, a mountain goat, pursuing the grand land and salty sea. In all of this, she has only had herself to rely on,
and a voice of wisdom, found only in the darkest moments. She can be hungry for descent because she understands the reigns of flight. The Capricorn is contained, and yet they are the stitches that thread the stars, the grand mastery of it all. In her spirit wields the resources of the Gods, each of whom have tried and tested her. Through the Capricorn’s shadow, a self portrait is created. It reveals the most powerful triumphs of human kind.  The undeniable component of the shadow is that in its presence it reflects only light. The Capricorn is capable of wielding both in their starry ascent toward the heavens, an intuitive focus in strategic command, a skilled concentration that gleams fantasy into
reality. The shadow can be lined in
exquisite silver. 

Aquarius ~
Telepathy could be the Aquarius enchantment. Telepathy into the web of consciousness, the matrix of thought that connects all beings together. Telepathy into the ideas of the sky, cascading like a diamond waterfall into the Aquarius mind. And there is telepathy into the knowledge of stars and space dwellers. The Aquarius mind is a conduit for all sorts of cosmic contemplation. It receives tremendous visions of utopia and elevating bursts of intuition. It also soaks up space junk, and this may turn into madness. Aquarius is the last moment of thought before we capsize into Pisces dream.
They look out to the stars to find their soul mate. They stare into the sea to contemplate infinity. They test logic against galaxies of invisible wonder. The Aquarius mind diffuses an extraterrestrial perfume, their thoughts dart through constellations and fields of existence. Underneath the disorder is a mind that sparkles like the diamonds that rain on Uranus. Inconceivable. Curious. Marvellous.

Pisces ~ 
Pisceans can try on new personalities like they try on shoes,
and with those unusual feet hardly any shoes, from heels to flats or docs seem to fit properly, like all these personalities she tries to be, none of them cloak her soul with the colours. Nothing ever seems to fit those shades
she knows ripple inside, those pastels that haven’t been invented yet. From room to room she moves, shifting face and shape, slippery with sea salt infused in her skin, impossible to catch or define, lost and wandering,
the facets of a thousand personalities. It feels so foreign being trapped in a body, when she can feel wings fluttering behind her shoulder blades,
and scales shimmer under her thighs. Like a mirror carved in heaven, reflecting people as angels. She is the stain glass window that forever changes colour and tone, paint streaked over her spirit, impossible to conceive without a kaleidoscope. She knows her true self resides at home
The home in the sky, made of clouds and liquid love. But for now the show must go on. Who do I dress as today.
Nobody knows.

-Cherry

Three Elements Home Blessing and Protection Ritual

Supplies:

  • Incense, or Sage Bundle - for smoke cleansing, to cleanse and protect with the “Sky”
  • Purified Water in a small bowl (optional ingredients include salt or herbs) - for saining, to cleanse and protect with the “Sea”
  • Protection Salt and Herbs (I’ll be adding lavender for peace and purification, and rosemary for protection and remembrance) - for protection of doorways, windows, and portals - to protect with the “Land”
  • Chant, Spell or Prayer of Intention - This step is best if you make it yourself, with your magical paradigms. Here is mine - “By the power of elements three, by the power of land, sky, and sea, I cleanse and protect this home to keep us safe from all harm.”  I also have one for each element e.i. “By the power of the sea, keep harm away from me”.

Ritual:

In an empty house, or apartment, open all doors and windows, including closets, bathrooms, etc. Start at what is to be the heart or center of the home, (the hearth, the bedroom, the living area, kitchen, etc) walk walk the perimeter of the home clockwise. If you wish to banish all spirits, spirits that mean you harm, all entities, whatever it is- do so at this time. Once you set your protections, you may accidentally banish or piss off ‘people’ you want to be friendly with. Walk the perimeter and focus on all the good memories you want to make here, the creating that will be done here, the hospitality you will offer guests, etc. 

Sky - Come back to start and light your “Sky” representation. Walk clockwise, chanting your spell. Aim the smoke at the ceiling, walking the perimeter of every wall and every room, including in closets, and around the shower, following the line of the ceiling. (not cupboards in the kitchen, because you might not be able to get the smell out later). Think of the smoke as banishing any previous tenants memories, bad emotions, spirits or energies you don’t want in your new home. End at your predesignated heart of the home.

Sea - Take your bowl of water, your “Sea”, and start again. this time dip your fingers into the bowl and flick water all around, aiming at the floorboard. Chant while you walk clockwise, focusing on the protection of the salt and water, creating a white light around your home as you sprinkle the water. Alternatively you can add to a spray bottle and spray the water. If you wish, sprinkle or ‘paint’ the water around any openings - mirrors, drains, windows - to protect from unwanted entrances for spirits or energies.  End at the heart of the home.

Land - Now take your “Land” representation of salt and herbs, and walk counter clockwise. Chant your house blessing or the chant for salt if you wish (if you chant the salt blessing, do one more pass clockwise saying you final home blessing). Sprinkle salt in a line across any doorway or window to outside the home. The salt should stay on the window sills if possible. The salt can be swept up from the front door if you wish, just ‘paint’ some salt water instead, after it is swept up. Sprinkle some around drains as well, and across wall mirrors. This closes up any magical or physical doorways of outside influence. End back at the heart of the home.

If you have a backyard or patio, you may want to extend the protections out there as well. Use cascarilla powder (powdered eggshells) around any dirt or lawn you have, use pure water with no salt, and maybe use wind chimes or a bell to represent the sky instead of the smoke, if you wish to not arouse suspicion. Please don’t use salt on the land. Its bad for plants and snails.

Home Protection Cont. :

I will be setting up my home altar at this “heart of the home” and from there it will be an easy place to renew the protections. I would recommend renewing the protections once a year, or whenever you feel you need a little extra boost of protection or cleansing. Since you originally did this when no furniture was in place, renewing the protections may seem hard. I prefer to smoke cleanse so that is a little easier for me, just say a protection or cleansing spell at our home altar and walk clockwise around the house with your smoke. Its gets into all the tight spots, now that there is furniture in the way, easier.  The spray bottle works well for this as well. I would recommend renewing one element at a time, in place of all three. 

Don’t forget that other protections are still great to uses as well. I will also be hanging my witches’ ladder made of hag stones by the door for protection, having potted plants for cleansing and protection like lavender, and hanging some wind chimes to know when the Good Folk are near.

Originally posted by butteryplanet

The last step is to enjoy your protected and magical home!

The Spirit Death/ Initiation

Traditions from all over the world hold that the person who wields supernatural power must first be initiated. 
But that word has changed since those times.
Today, most view initiation as some dusty set of rituals. But that’s not what it was then, and that’s not it is now for traditional witches.
It’s death.
It’s destruction of the old self to make way for the new.
It’s sickness and decay.
It’s the rotting flesh made bare for the young animals to eat.
Most know that it happens to shamans. You’ve heard the stories of sickness, depression, hallucinations, and lonesome. 
It happens to witches too.
It is a difficult time referred to now as ‘Spirit Initiation’, though I’ve come to know it as “The Death” or “The Spirit Death”. The phenomena has been talked about at length and experienced by traditional witches. Its function is to destroy the old to make way for the new. It kills the old you and uses it for kindling to light the witch fire. It’s happened to many traditional witches before they found their way to the Crooked Path. 
When people warn others that witchcraft could drive them mad, this is one of the things that they refer to. The destruction doesn’t promise you will return perfected. It’s been known to mess people up, leave them broken, or flat out destroy them. 
Most of the time, these initiations are led by a particular spirit. For many traditional witches, it was and is the Dark Man. For others, the spirits of the land might do it, or their ancestors, or all of them together. In other traditions, the spirit of another magical person would lead them through this and pass on their knowledge.
The Death manifests itself in different forms and can change in intensity from witch to witch. For some, it’s a physical sickness. For others, it can be a long bout of depression. Sometimes it’s a series of horrific nightmares or hallucinations. Though it can be different for each witch, it’s always an unpleasant experience. 
The Death only comes with one promise. If you begin it, you’ll never be the same again. The world will always look different and you’ll never be who you were before you began. 
When you feel you’ve hit the end of the road and can go no further, though you want to learn more, that’s when The Death often comes. 
It’s not something to be desired, but its results afterward are. 

{Intro: Boy Meets Evil} - vocab list

이름 n. name
날 n. day
밤 n. night
손 n. hand
숨 n. breath
피 n. blood
입술 n. lips
꿈 n. dream
길 n. road, path
빛 n. light, sparkle
죄 n. crime, sin
칼 n. knife, sword
갈다 v. sharpen (a knife)
눈 n. eyes
감다 v. close [shut] one’s eyes
미래 n. future
현실 n. reality
악마 n. devil, demon, evil spirit, Satan
욕심 n. greed, avarice, selfishness
야망 n. ambition, aspiration
독기 n. virulence, venom
양심 n. conscience
지옥 n. hell
나팔 n. trumpet
비극 n. tragedy
오르골 n. music box
포기 n. abandonment, resignation, surrender
연애 n. love
주위 n. surroundings
시선 n. one´s eye(s); one´s sight; one´s gaze
기적 n. miracle
달콤함 n. sweet
중독 n. poisoning, toxication
병신 n. stupid person, fool, idiot
지뢰 n. land mine
매일 adv. every day, daily
다르다 adj. different
날카롭다 adj. sharp
붉다 adj. red
달콤하다 adj. sweet
매섭다 adj. fierce, severe, strict, sharp
미치다 adj. crazy, insane
좋다 adj. good
뒤틀리다 adj. twisted
울리다 v. echo, reverberate / adj. famous
어두워지다 v. darken, become dim
잃다 v. lose
참다 v. bear; endure; put up with; tolerate; suppress; repress; control oneself
알다 v. know
잡다 v. hold, take
외치다 v. shout; cry (out); yell; shriek; scream
저버리다 v. go back on; turn one´s back on; back down; break (one´s promise) 
느끼다 v. realize; see; feel; find
취하다 v. get drunk/intoxicated
버리다 v.  throw away, discard
깨어나다 v. return to consciousness, come to one’s senses, sober up
건드리다 v. touch
부르다 v. call
잊다 v. forget
생각하다 v. think
찢기다 v. get torn
놓치다 v. let scape, lose

The Cabin By the Lake: Chapter 1

Summary: Cassian has been keeping a secret- for the past 300 years he has been building cabins around a lake to house the Inner Circle and any family they might have. Five years after the end of ACOWAR, the cabins are finished and the Inner Circle descends for two weeks in paradise.

**Contains minor NSFW content, not enough to warrant a tag, nothing explicit, but just a little bit.

Originally posted by pinkfloydvinyl

*****This fic is marking 5,000 followers!! I want to thank each and every one of you for following me, but especially you (yes, YOU!!! Don’t tell the others). This page is less than a year old, and I’ve been absolutely blown away by warmth and kindness of this fandom. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings as Maas expands all the verses we know and love!!!!

Tagging: @aelin-and-feyre, @my-life-is-a-drama-book, @queen-archeron || @mywritingbox, @illyrianinterrasen, @managingmischief007, @ladycassian, @photofeesh, @lets-continue, @ofstarsanddreams, @queenoffantasy, @takenbymyfandoms, @hellosparkyislove, @sensingdejavu, @sierrareads, @sheshibori, @whydoyoucareaboutmyusername, @haileanneposts, @wolffrising, @tothemoonandback-97, @rebelangel36, @dreamilyzealousbird, @poisonbooknerd, @gently-say-aha, @urbisie, @thenameisjaida-blog, @kaliejane26, @crazybookladythings, @cmhmama, @highladyoferilea, @highladyofluna, @artmatekarma, @deezrmuhsheeple, @evulette, @dreamingofazriel, @a-trifling-matter, @court-0f-dreamers, @to-read-is-to-breathe, @221b-impala-fezzz, @little-eidolon, @illyrian-empress, @theheiraelin, @chocolateserialkiller, @averageweirdgirl, @celaena-sardothiien, @thisxisxali, @songbirdsbooks, @seriouslyobsessedfangirl, @booklover242​, @empress-ofbloodshed

Specially Dedicated To: @little-eidolon, @court-0f-dreamers, and @221b-impala-fezzz, who requested content or scenarios that appear in this chapter.

For more of my fics, check out @rhysand-vs-rowan-vs-fanfic!!!!

**If you are on mobile, you may not be able to see the “Keep Reading” tab. Simply scroll to the top of this post and click my URL to see the full text.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Why do they say that faeries are afraid of iron?

Thank you, that is a very good question.

Now firstly, faeries is a very general term. If you take a look at Faeries by Brian Froud or An Encyclopedia of Fairies by Katharine Brigg you will see there are hundreds of kinds of fairies.

But for simplicity’s sake lets divide them up into major types. I am using a mix of terminologies here that I believe explain things in the most simple manner.

Shining ones/Aos Sidhe: These are a divine race and/or semi-divine race of people that once ruled the British Isles, but later went underground and in the hills in a pact with the ancestors of the current residents to share the land. These fairies are usually huge and have bodies of light. Lugh, Angus, and Brigid are good examples. These are not particularly dangerous if you keep the pact with them.

Seelie fairies/Trooping fairies: These are the figures of lore seen dancing, holding feasts, and marching at the quarters as the seasons change. These creatures seem to have laws and rules in their courts. They have queens and kings and such. They sometimes kidnap beautiful and/or especially talented young people. These creatures are usually made of a kind of oily airy substance and they feed off of the spirit of foods and crops causing them to be no good for people to eat. They are usually similar to humans in build, but a little bit smaller or thinner—though most can shape change to be smaller or bigger, prettier or uglier as the case may be. They are somewhat dangerous, but sometimes can be tricked due to a moral and honor system of their own.

Unseelie fairies/The Host: These are restless undead. Perhaps fallen angels that didn’t take sides in the battle between heaven and hell. Suicides or other people who aren’t bad enough to go to hell and not good enough to get to heaven who haunt the land for whatever reason and are usually fairly solitary and are not particularly good-natured. These creatures tend to also be made of the thin oily airy substances and are also usually similar in size to regular creatures, but usually are grayer, more gaunt, and strange. They live in odd wild places like bogs and graveyards. They are very dangerous.

Primordials: This term is one that isn’t particularly celtic, but I find it describes a group of Titan like figures that are absolutely giant, the shaped the landscape itself. The Callieach is such a figure. As is Mananaan MacLear. Puck is also like this, he predates the elves and fairies and is the land of the British Isles itself. Also included in this classification (for simplicity’s sake) are the Fomorians, a race of monstrous creatures that live in the sea. They are known for being inhospitable and are often combative.  These are no more dangerous than the tooth and claw of nature itself. They foretell deaths, they are the fates of nature, but don’t play a particular role in the lives of mortals unless there is a special relationship made.

Of these various types the Seelie and Unseelie fairies are the ones that are most likely to be susceptible to iron. As they are often very airy and oily the heavy dark metal of iron is too much for them to lift or cross. I have read dozens of reasons by thinkers about why fairies can’t abide iron, and I have yet to see any such reason match the fairy tales and folklore itself. Often mythologists and historians see legends as being proto-science as having to explain something—therefore to them fairies aren’t real but they explain some sort of natural physics or biology or historical migration. I figure, certain kinds of fairies actually just can’t abide iron. I can’t handle radium, plutonium, nor nickel, and copper makes my skin turn green. So I think, they just can’t—no special reason, its just how they are it likely reacts with what their bodies are made of poorly. Whereas some of the creatures called fairies are known to be fine with iron, like the primordials and shining ones.

4

Painted a pillar at Underpass Park with Aura!

Sky Woman and Thunderbird

This piece represents our relationship to the great mystery through the visual dissemination of oral traditions, as well as our perspectives as Anishinaabe and Haudenosaunee womxn living in urban centres. The images that we create respond to the stories our elders have told and honour the beginning of everything. We are grateful everyday for the sacrifices made by nigig and mskwaadesi, as well as all the other animals, to maintain and nourish human life after sky woman fell down to turtle island. This piece is a nod to our respective creation stories and the distinctions between the stories told in various communities. We also give thanks to the Thunderbirds, which are Manitous (spirits) made by the creator to look after Mother Earth’s health by bringing thunder, lightning, rain and wind that cleanse the land. They give our mother a drink when she is thirsty and keep her soils fertile and fruitful so that all of creation can thrive. Their sole purpose is to ensure that mother Earth is protected. From Spring to Fall they bring many cleansings, but in the Winter they rest. This is a time when the Northern lights, a gift that has been ascribed to the Thunderbirds, become prevalent. Growing from the concrete of Underpass park and up up up to sky world, are large vibrant floral designs that incorporate Haudenosaunee beadwork influences and Anishinaabe woodland style painting. This infusion of styles represents our sisterhood and the beauty that grows from womxn to womxn empowerment. In addition to this, the florals also serve as contemporary visual evidence of the Ojibway-Haudenosaunee Friendship Belt, which is a wampum belt created to solidify the peace and friendship established between the Haudenosaunee and Anishinaabeg.
8

“This is a story from long ago, when the great mammoths still roamed our lands. It’s the story of my two brothers and me. When the three of us were young, we were taught that the world is full of magic. The source of this magic is the ever-changing lights that dance across the sky. The shaman woman of our village told us that these lights are the spirits of our ancestors, and that they had the power to make changes in our world. Small things become big. Winter turns to spring. One thing always changes into another. But the greatest change I ever saw was that of my brother. A boy who desperately wanted to be a man.”

172-VOLBUN [Volt-Bunny]
-Electric
-The Static pokemon
-Ability: Static - Vital Spirit(HA)
-Dex: “With almost 2/3 of its body weight being only fur, this pokemon spends most of its life gathering static energy as it hops around. You may know one is nearby as the hair on your body will start to rise up.”
-Moveset:
    -Nuzzle
    -Thundershock
    -Cotton Guard
    -Thunder wave

–>Evolves with max. friendship<–

025-LEPOX [Lepus-Box]
-Electric
-The Electrified Pokemon
-Ability:  Static - Vital Spirit(HA)
-Dex: “This energetic pokemon is very sociable and will spend most of its time tossing around with its mates, accumulating energy on its long fur. LEPOX are known for the "boxing Matches” that seems to occur among them, used as a way to release saved up energy when it becomes too much.“
-Moveset:
    -Thunder Punch
    -Spark
    -Charge
    -Jump Kick

–>Evolves with a thunderstone<–

026-THUNDARE [Thunder-Hare-Daring]
-Electric/Fighting
-The Supercharged Pokemon
-Ability: Lighting Rod - Heroic Spirit*(HA)
-Dex: "This pokemon lives alone yet it will always remain nearby where wild VOLBUN and LEPOX live together, looking out for them when they need help. This noble behavior doesn’t stops there, if it hears a pokemon, or even a human in peril, it will jump on its aid immediately.”
-Moveset:
-Sig. Move: Lightning Kick “The user launches a kick that lands a critical hit more easily. This may also leave the target paralyzed”
   Type: Electric
   PP: 10 (max 16)
   Power: 85
   Accuracy: 90%
    -Wild Charge
    -High Jump Kick
    -Reversal

*This pokemon can’t be put to sleep and its attack cannot be lowered.

in every world, in every realm, in every version of the story, neal and emma find their way to one another.

Solas’s Stories Transcribed

I couldn’t find these anywhere (except in video form which is too long) so I just transcribed them.

RUINS:

I found the ruin of Barindur, a lost Tevinter city buried deep beneath a dead and barren wasteland. Volcanic ash had sealed it tight. In one dark moment, every living creature in the city seared and smothered. They were statues in the ashes, like a mold made to recall the lost.

I found an ancient dwarven thaig no longer sheltered by the stone. An earthquake had exposed it all to daylight. A thousand dwarven corpses lay, the victims of a darkspawn horde, their last stand marked by one great ring of armor. In the middle, one small body, clutching tightly to a small stuffed toy.

I found in the Korcari Wilds a humble cottage far removed from any of the simple Chasind tribesmen. The trees and weeds had not reclaimed the home nor did the Chasind dare to come and steal the trinkets still remaining. It was empty, long abandoned, but the world feared that she might return.

SPIRITS:

I met a friendly spirit who observed the dreams of village girls as love first blossomed in their adolescence. With subtlety, she steered them all to village boys with gentle hearts who would return their love with gentle kindness. The Matchmaker, so I called her. That small village never knew its luck.

The Alamarri crossed the Frostback Mountains to escape a beast they called the shadow goddess in their stories. I met the spirit that they fled. She walks the Fade along the southern tundra, weeping, lonely, and forgotten. Great Ferelden formed because a lonely spirit drove her prey away.

I found an ancient spirit who had once been undisputed king of almost every land I had discovered. Like Pride or Rage, it was the Fade’s reflection of a feeling. When I asked which one it was, the spirit faltered. “They’ve forgotten,” said the spirit. “There remains no word for what I was.”

MEMORIES:

I saw a savage human horde go marching toward the battlefront. They sang a soldier’s hymn to keep formation. The primal music shook the ground. These savage unwashed warriors carried harmonies no Chantry choir has mastered. Though their cause was all but hopeless, they sang songs that made the spirits weep.

I saw a dwarf emerge into the light of day and shield his eyes against the sun, the first time he had seen it. The tears were streaming from his eyes. I thought them from the blazing light until I saw the rock he held so tightly. Then he laid the rock down gentle, and he left it as he walked away.

I saw a young Qunari working in a simple kitchen, baking bread as she was ordered every morning. In every loaf she broke the rules. She’d take a punch of sugar and would fold it to the center, like a secret. And this act of small rebellion brought a shining smile across her face.

3

Remarkable freehand adornment on a Golden Demon 2013 entrant Green Knight painted by thebrushbrothers.blogspot.co.uk

Lore, from wikia.com:

“The Green Knight is a well-known figure of Bretonnian folklore - a common character in puppet shows and plays performed for peasants and kings alike, he is bedecked in strange ivy-covered armour and intones his famous line: ‘None shall pass!’ The traditional nemesis of the valiant Questing Knights, the Green Knight challenges them to duels so that they might prove their worth to the Lady herself, and thus sip from the blessed Grail. Little do most realise that these stories are bound in fact. The Green Knight is the sacred protector of Bretonnia, and his spirit-essence is intertwined with the land and the Lady of the Lake herself. He has appeared to many Questing Knights. They speak of the sky clouding over to create the darkness of twilight, and a green mist seeping from the earth, slowly taking the shape of a figure riding a snorting steed. The warrior brandishes a glowing blade, his eyes ablaze with fey light.

The Green Knight is the champion of the Lady of the Lake, and protector of the sacred sites of Bretonnia. As well as materialising to test Questing Knights in their faith, the Green Knight will appear when these sacred places are defiled by those with evil-hearted intent. Amongst the beast herds of the tainted forests, he is known as Shaabhekh, literally the ‘Soul-Killer’, for he has slain untold thousands of their kind throughout the centuries. He bursts from within the bole of the most ancient trees, or gallops furiously from still lakes or rushing waterfalls to wreak his terrible vengeance against those interlopers. As quickly as he appears, so too will he fade into mist once his righteous slaughter is complete. In some tales, he will disappear in one place only to reappear behind the enemy, slaying them without mercy before again disappearing and reappearing elsewhere.

He appears to those questing for the Grail and guards the mysterious glades, lakes and stone circles where the Lady of the Lake appears. He challenges any Questing Knight who seeks the Grail to mortal combat. This is the last and final test of the Grail quest. If the Questing Knight can match the Green Knight, he will eventually reach the Grail. Any Knight with a soul unworthy of the Grail will fail in his duel with the Green Knight and will either flee or be slain. The Green Knight himself cannot be slain, no matter how grievous the wounds inflicted on him.

Weapons have little effect on the Green Knight. Some say that blades and arrows pass straight through him as though he were as insubstantial as morning mist. In one epic tale, a Questing Knight cut the Green Knight’s head clean from his shoulders, but the spirit simply picked up his head and rode away.

What the Green Knight actually is has been much debated, and no one in Bretonnia, save perhaps the Fay Enchantress, knows the truth. Some believe that he is the spirit of Bretonnia given physical form, while others swear that he is Gilles le Breton himself, having devoted himself completely to the land and the Lady for eternity after he was taken from this world.

The Green Knight myth has its roots in Arthurian legend, most notably the 1300s poem ‘Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’.

anonymous asked:

Do you know anything about Druidism? I am leaning towards becoming a druid and following the path but I don't know where to begin. Could you give me an over view of it, if possible?

links for youuuuuu!!!!:D 

From sagefae

From @thedruidsteaparty (couldn’t link to her resource page :<)

Druidry Tags

What is Druidry?

Where do I Begin? (a personal guide from me to you)

The Three Tiers of Druidry

Bard

Ovate

Druid

Teaching & Practices

Druids Wheel of the Year

Festivals 

Druid Prayer & Devotion

Ritual

Oracles & Divination 

Earth Mysteries

Stone Circles

Tree Lore

Tree Symbolism

The Ogham Trees

Trees & People

Trees & Elements

Plant Lore

The Curriculum of the 13 Moons: Exploring the Gifts of Plants

Animal Lore

Sacred Animals of The Druids

Star Lore

Rituals

Dedicating Your Grove

Druidic Triple Circle

Opening the Doorway - An Awen Ritual

Activities

Nature for Indoor Druids

Sun Water

Making Your Ogham Sticks

Opening The Crane Bag (blessing)

Charging & Invocation of Your Ogham Sticks

Ogham Spreads (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Awen & The Sun

Working with Awen: Connecting with Light & Inspiration

Incense for Bards

Incense for Ovates

Incense for Druids

Seeking the Spirit of the Land

Druidry & Other Paths

Druidry & Wicca

Druidcraft

Christianity & Druidry

Helpful Websites

The Order of Bards, Ovates & Druids

The British Druid Order

Ancient Order of Druids in America

Books I Have Read

The Path of Druidry by Penny Billington

A Druid’s Herbal of Sacred Tree Medicine by Ellen Evert Hopman

Druid Mysteries by Phillp Carr-Gomm

Living Druidry by Emma Restall Orr

Ogham: The Celtic Tree Oracle by Paul Rhys Mountfort

Tree Wisdom by Jaqueline Memory Patterson

The Modern-Day Druidess by Cassandra Easton

Introductory Books

Other Books


Oracles Decks

The Druid Plant Oracle

The Druid Animal Oracle

The Celtic Tree Oracle

Wildwood Tarot

Druidcraft Tarot

Videos

Druidry: A Beginner’s Guide part 1

Druidry: A Beginner’s Guide part 2

Druidry: A Beginner’s Guide part 3

Phillp Carr-Gomm Druidry

The Seven Gifts of Druidry

A Druid Tree Meditation

Beginner’s Introductions to the Ogham

The Green Wood Grove (Druid Network)

The Fae Courts

The categorisation of the fae are based on court - whether or not a faery is light or dark.

Seelie Court (Associated with Spring & Summer)

The Seelie court’s land of origin is Scotland. Another name for them is The Blessed Ones. The Seelie court are known to seek help from humans, to warn those who had accidentally offended them, and to return human kindness with favors of their own. Still, a faery belonging to this court will avenge insults and could be prone to mischief. The most common time of day to see them is twilight. They are the light faeries who are known for playing pranks on humans and having a light hearted attitude, forgetting their sorrows quickly and not realising how they might be affecting the humans they play pranks on.

The Seelie court is fairly organised and structured. There is always an undisputed liege, and this liege is advised by a council made up of the highest ranking nobles of the land. For centuries, Queen Titania and her escort, King Oberon, have ruled the Seelie. Ambassadors from the retreated Unseelie court, and even further afield, sit at Seelie court as well. One can encounter elementals, spirits, genies, and various outsiders at the Seelie court, though fiends are never welcome.

The Unseelie Court (Associated with Autumn & Winter)

 Like the Seelie court, the unseelie court’s land of origin is Scotland. The term Unseelie is most often been translated to mean “unblessed” or “damned”. The Unseelie Court consists of the darkly-inclined fairies. Unlike the Seelie Court, no offense is necessary to bring down their assaults. As a group (or “host”), they appear at night and assault travelers, often carrying them through the air, beating them, and forcing them to commit such acts as shooting at cattle. Like the beings of the Seelie Court who are not always benevolent, neither are the fairies of the Unseelie Court always malevolent. Most Unseelies can become fond of a particular human if they are viewed as respectful, and would choose to make them something of a pet.

The Unseelie court is far from organised or structured. The most powerful and wily nobles vie with each other for the position of liege, and just because one noble starts the reign as monarch does not mean the same noble will sit on the thrown come springtime. Rumor holds that demons have been known to appear at the Unseelie court on occasion, though many Unseelie seem highly offended by the notion. Contrary to what many believe, the two courts are not usually antagonistic towards each other. The Laws of Cyclic Rule are enforced by ancient, deep magic, and neither court wishes to risk the repercussions of breaking such primal enchantments.

The Unseelie fae comprise the Slaugh, or The Host, the band of the unsanctified dead who fly above the earth, stealing mortals and take great pleasure in harming humans. Some Scottish legends say they were all once members of the Seelie Court who fell from grace. The Court travels on the night winds from where their unnerving cackles and howls can be heard. They have no method of reproduction, so they enslave mortals whom they think would never be missed and carry them along to become one of them.

Types of Fae (Specific To The Fae Realm)

  • Abartach 
  • Alp Lauchra
  • Bean Nighe
  • Bean Sídhe
  • Cat Sídhe
  • Cu Sídhe
  • Clurichaun
  • Dullahan
  • Fachen
  • Fear Dearg
  • Fuath
  • Gean Cánach
  • Gille Dubh
  • Glaistig
  • Leanan Sídhe
  • Leprechaun
  • Púca
  • Sluagh Sídhe
Spiritual Block

We’ve all been there. You want to do something, you want to write something, you want to make something… But you can’t.

You can’t feel it. You can’t see it. You can’t hear it. You just feel disconnected and anxious. 

I get a lot of asks from people who ask how to reconnect with gods, spirits, and their craft. They claim things have gone cold, gone quiet, gone silent.

So here is a small list of my own suggestions to help with feeling this way. 

Get Out

Now a lot of practices aren’t nature based, so I’m going to word this a bit differently than I would if it applied solely to me. 

Get out of your everyday space. The space you sleep, you eat, you work. Go for a hike, go see a move, go to a cafe, go to a library, go down the road and just listen to the sounds around you. We isolate ourselves through routine and sometimes we put up walls without realizing it. Look at details, explore, investigate, question. Remember you are more than just a 9-5 job. Remember you are more than just the book you read on warding magic or the
overwhelming schoolwork that has been draining your inspiration. 

Regroup

Look to what inspires you. Movies, artwork, other practices or crafts and allow yourself time to look through those things. Do not hold yourself to them, or compare yourself to them but rather think about what inspires you about them. What aspects do you admire? Can you incorporate those into your own practices? Can you change them to suit your own style? What can you add to make them your own, and in doing so make them something more to you?

Shuffle a deck of cards and just do a reading. Flip through a book and just read a page. Listen to a song or a playlist and skip around. Find small elements that you can use to build something bigger. Allow yourself space to write, to draw, to record these things however you can. They don’t need to be organized and they don’t need to be “proper” unless of course you’re into that. Just get it down for later when you can look it over and make sense of it all (if there is sense to make). 

Fake It

The best way to get over a block is to just keep going. After you’ve gone out and regrouped yourself just take another crack at it. Redo shrines or altars. Reorganize bookshelves and chests of materials. Check dates of herbs and cleanse crystals. Water and cull your plants. Now just do it. Don’t need anything yourself? Look to the many people in this world who need a hand. Do a spell for those who are hungry, those who are scared, those who are hurting. Or likewise do a spell against those who are greedy, those who are suffocating and killing, those who are hindering and disrupting. 

Do a spell for your own land, your own home, your friends and family members (some people will warn against doing magic without permission but I’ll leave that choice to you). Do a spell for yourself. Clean yourself. Inspire yourself. Harness passion and dedication. Bathe in it. Sing to your gods or your spirits or if you’ve none sing to the spirits who have passed. 

Turn up the music and dance.
Dance for those fighting for clean water, for those fighting for their own land, for those fighting to put food on the table, for those who feel broken and wronged and desperate. It doesn’t have to be any one person or any specific people. It is still valid and is still worth doing.

Enjoy

Do what you enjoy.
At the end of the day why pursue something if you aren’t enjoying it?

I mean this in a light sense. A lot of people chose this path for other reasons and many have made vows and promises but ultimately why stay if you aren’t enjoying any aspect of this? A duty? A responsibility? Maybe. But for those of us who don’t have those don’t feel restricted and restrained.

Do what you love.

If you love making wards. Make them.

Already have enough? Make some for other people. Make some for the forest. The library. Local soup kitchens.

Like writing spells? Share them. Write as many as you like.
Like constructing rituals? Leaving offerings? Writing poems? Simply being around herbs and crystals and bones? Do that. Surround yourself.

There doesn’t always have to be a reason. Or be a need. You can just do. Don’t let your mind overthink something that is in essence just an action.

For me, witchcraft is an impulse and is sporadic. I do it when I feel I should. And I have found you do not need a reason to do it.

I hope you can shake those cobwebs from your head and pursue what you enjoy.

*(Disclaimer)
Some people may feel their own craft is sacred or very strict and serious. This post is very obviously not directed towards your own particular situation. Please do not apply this post to your own craft if you don’t think it is applicable. This is a personal post of a public format being shared with the sole intention of helping those in similar situations. Curseshamers are tiresome and boring. I’ll spare everyone else the trouble, “Not everyone follows the ‘rules’ and ‘laws’ you do so don’t apply them to other people”. Lastly permission and it’s place in magic is something argued about. This isn’t the post to do that arguing on. If you want to discuss it get your soapbox out and stand on it on your own blog. 

Will You Stay?

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Don’t let go of him. He needs you. He wants you stay, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

Warnings: Angst, all that good shit, it’ll end with a sort of cliffhanger idk i like to call it an interpretive ending but whatever floats your boat, also the obvious language warnings and mentions of baby buck not being okay :-(

Word Count: 9.1k (i’m SORRY)

Author’s Note: so, again, thank you to my inspo tag bc I saw this quote and it’s been churning in my head for so long but I’ve never had the chance to actually sit down and write it. This literally took me a full year to write so let’s see how it goes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Also this could possibly go into a part two if you guys want it. I have an idea for it but if people want to use their imagination to create their own ending then by all means! Anyways, feedback is more than welcome and please leave requests; I’d love to see what you guys want to read :)



It’s funny how easily someone’s world can come crashing down. How easily the bright colors that once painted your world turn to an ashen gray within a few short minutes. It’s sickening that love can raise you up to the sky and show you the world and the beautiful blues and golds of the sky. It’s intoxicating how drunk you feel off of the beauty and the glory of having it all, of seeing it all. How warm you feel, how weightless and limitless, like you’re the air. Twisting and turning, light and free. Young and spirited, wild and reckless and untamed.

Poets, authors and painters convey love with the prettiest words and the lightest shades of pink and yellow and white. They romanticize the fall, the moments before the leap and how wonderful it feels when you finally do.

What they never tell you about is after the fall. 

When you land. When you hit the ground so hard you feel yourself slip away for a little bit, your head spinning and you’re grasping for that feeling to be light again. They never tell you about how tight your chest is and how much it fucking hurts, like you’re bleeding yet desperately trying to sew yourself back together at the same time.

No, they never tell you about after the fall. Because where’s the romance in that? Nobody wants to write about the hardships, the pain and emptiness. Nobody wants to look at a painting splattered with red and black and the darkest purples. Where was the beauty in that?

There was no beauty. There was nothing to put on a pedestal, nothing to turn into a pretty picture with a smiling face. All that is left are cracked smiles and bruised knuckles and whispered hopes of trying, begging for an answer. There is no beauty in stained cheeks and watery eyes. There is no romance in a broken chest and empty lungs.

Beauty is pain, perhaps, but pain is not beauty.

Pain is not painted with flowers and rich silks and velvet trim. Pain is lurking in the shadows, the silent master that waits patiently for its turn to remind you that beauty is not everything, that love is misconception, confusion and a liar. Pain is the reality that you refuse to believe in when you’re suspended in the clouds.

And how stupid was I, how naïve I was to believe I could escape reality. That I could live in my pretty little painting. Idyllic and serene and fashioned perfectly to what I wanted. Created by my own fantasies and selfish heart, my pretty little painting. My perfect world. Gone, without a warning and without a sign.

Beauty is pain, but pain is not beauty. And how I wished I had realized that sooner.


I stared at the wall; the blank white wall was all I saw. I focused on the chipped paint and tried to regulate my breathing.

The apartment was quiet. Deadly silent, not even my own breathing could be heard.


A loud clang of a coffee mug meeting the edge of the counter jolted me from my sleep. The string of curses that followed forced my eyes open as I tried to curl deeper into the mattress. Sleep seemed to evade me as the strong scent of crushed coffee grounds filled the apartment, followed by a low whistle that didn’t follow a tune but was catchy in its own way.

I stayed in bed until the heavy footsteps and continued whistling drew closer to the bedroom.

“Good morning,” a deep voice broke through the last of the drowsy haze that covered my eyes. I ran my eyes over the low slung sweatpants and loose gray shirt, the scoop neck revealed the slight swell of his pecs.  When I finally met his piercing blue gaze, my heart stuttered wildly in my chest and judging by the smirk on his face, he could hear it.

“Hi,” I answered in a soft voice, completely anticlimactic but it was all I could muster. He chuckled and bent down, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. He brushed the hair from my neck, the warm skin of his palm elicited goosebumps over my arms.

“I made you coffee,” he murmured as his thumb traced my jaw.

I hummed. “I know, I heard you.”

He winced and I couldn’t help but laugh as I sat up, letting the comforter slide from my shoulders. I crossed my legs as I took the coffee mug from the bedside table and took a tentative sip, careful of the steam that curled from the rim. His hand slid from my neck to my shoulders then dipped beneath my shirt to trace my spine. I watched him, amazed how the sun light reflected in his eyes and how warm his skin looked.

“Will you stay?” I whispered as I glanced at the clock. He usually had to leave me early in the morning, most of the times before I woke. It was rare for him to stay past nine. I was lucky if he even stayed until nine.

He smiled, soft and apologetic as he kissed my lips briefly, humming that silly little tune under his breath.

“Only for a little bit,” he replied but I nodded anyways. I took what I could get it. So we sat as I drank my coffee and chatted aimlessly, stopping every now and then for a lazy kiss. He made me laugh so hard I spilled coffee onto the white sheets of the bed, but I didn’t care. I saw it as another memory, a little reminder.

And when he took my mug back into the kitchen, he was still whistling that tune, quietly but it reverberated throughout the apartment until the birds outside were singing along too.


There was no whistling now. No humming. No empty coffee mugs and no chatty birds. There was nothing.

I turned my head away from the wall and immediately my eyes fell to the droplets of coffee, still stained on the sheets of the bed. They hadn’t gone away, no matter how many times I washed the sheets. But I hadn’t minded then, I had liked knowing that they would always be there. The faint coffee smell always sent be back to that morning, that little slice of heaven. Now it seemed to be taunting, reminding me of everything good that I had lost.

“I’ll kill him,” a voice spoke from the doorway. I chuckled, but it was humorless.

“No, you won’t,” I whispered. I tried to take my eyes away from the drops of faint brown, but I couldn’t. I could feel his lips on my forehead, temple and lips. I could feel the giddiness in my stomach and the fluttering in my chest. I felt it all.

“No, you’re right.” There was dip as the mattress moved to accommodate the extra weight. “That would be too easy. We need a better plan.”

I smiled but it felt wrong. There was a flash of red in my peripheral as a head came down to rest on my shoulder. A sigh rattled through my body as a fresh wave of tears threatened to consume me again but I fought them. I wouldn’t cry. Not again.

“I’ll be fine, Nat.” It sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than I was trying to convince her. Perhaps I was.

“Sure you will,” her voice had an easy confidence to it, something I wished I possessed. “But you’re not fine now. And that’s okay.”

I shook my head as I shrugged her off and pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. “What a way to end the week,” I chuckled bitterly as my palms became slick with tears. Natasha laid a gentle hand on my back and was silent. She didn’t try to assure me that everything would be okay, that the world would answer my prayers that this day would end and the next day would be better. She knew. She knew how easily fate switched hands.

She knew what I knew, except she accepted it long before I did.


I gripped my umbrella tightly as the rain pattered against the polyester, the cool air bit at my cheeks as I waited at the crosswalk. It seemed the white man would never appear, just the harsh red hand telling me to stop. I sighed and tucked myself tighter into my coat as I allowed my eyes to gaze out to my surroundings until the fell upon a flower shop that acted as a coffee shop too. The faint scent of coffee and buttery scones caused a harsh ache to flourish in my chest.


“Jesus, how much sugar do you take?” He raised an eyebrow at me as I sat idly in one of the wrought iron chairs. The air was clear and the sun was strong as the bustling streets of Brooklyn seemed like an afterthought as I stared at him.

“Enough to make me happy,” I shot back. He shook his head but I could see the smile across his face as he made his way back to the counter to get me more sugar packets.

“You know this shit is fake, right? This isn’t what real sugar tastes like.”

“Excuse me. Did I judge you when you tore through that whole pack of gummy worms last night? No. So let me use my fake sugar in my coffee.”

He smirked and handed me the pink packets. He sat down and picked off a piece of blueberry muffin and popped it into his mouth. He was beautiful. Mahogany hair pulled into a loose bun as his strong jaw worked at the muffin. I hid behind my coffee cup to hide my blush as the sweetness nearly burned my throat. Perfect.

“Wait here,” he said as he abruptly stood up. I didn’t even have a chance to question him nor remind him that I couldn’t go anywhere since he was my ride. Instead, I waited while I sipped away at my coffee and people watched. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I heard a distant pair of footfalls become louder. I turned my head and saw him walking towards me, a single rose clutched in his left hand.

“For you,” he murmured. My heart nearly fell out of my chest as I gasped softly. He normally didn’t do romantic gestures. He wasn’t a hearts and flowers kind of guy. Any sort of affection I got was behind locked doors where no one would see but us.

I took the flower, afraid if I reacted to quickly the moment would shatter. The faint scent tickled my nose and I couldn’t help but smile. A hand cupped my cheek gently, his thumb brushed over the rise of my cheekbone. It was fleeting, it was quick, but I felt the burn for hours after.

“Will you stay?” I whispered, staring into his bright blue eyes and begging for a different answer. His smile was forlorn as his eyes flickered to the rose, then to me.

“Only for a little bit,” he murmured then took the empty sugar packets in his hand and turned on his heel to throw them out.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Nothing but a memory and a rose to remind me that it was real.


I turned my head away, cursing the burn in my eyes. It had been two weeks since I had last cried over him and I refused to break that streak. I was finally doing better. I finally buried the pain deep enough so that it didn’t matter anymore.

The red hand changed to the white man and the crowd around my pushed me forward, leaving the memory behind me as the dismal rain pattered against my umbrella.


I moved four months after he left. The apartment was too suffocating; too much of him was left. Every time I stepped outside the streets of Brooklyn reminded me of him. I couldn’t turn a corner without seeing something that made me think of him. When my job had an opening in Boston, I pounced immediately and without a second thought I told my landlord I was leaving that month and paid the last of my rent.

“I wish you weren’t leaving.” Natasha frowned as I zipped up my suitcase, having to sit on the top due to the amount of clothes I had managed to stuff inside.

“Hey, it’s not forever,” I assured her as I rolled the suitcase out to the living room. “It’s like, a two hour ride in the jet, if that. I’m sure you’ll find some way to stop by after every mission.”

“He misses you,” she whispered and I froze as my heart crunched painfully in my chest.

“Nat, don’t.” I stalked into the kitchen and began to close the boxes filled with plates and cups.

“I know he’s why you’re leaving,” she murmured as she followed me. I recoiled like she had stuck me with a hot iron. “I know the job in Boston is good, but you don’t have to go. You don’t have to leave.”

“Yes I do.” I turned to face her. Her eyes regarded me with a soft sadness that made my mouth dry and my throat clench. “There’s nothing here for me, Nat. I came to Brooklyn for him. He’s gone. There’s no reason for me to stay.”

“If you just talked–”

“Natasha,” I finally snapped. I cursed the break in my voice as I turned my face away.

She sighed reluctantly and walked forward. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just – I don’t want you to leave. You’re like my sister, y’know?”

I smiled and felt a surge of gratefulness for her and flung my arms around her. She stiffened but relaxed a bit as she wrapped her arms around me. “I’m not far. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I know. I’ve tried.” She smirked as I feigned offense. And just like that, the playful atmosphere returned but neither of us could ignore the taste of bitterness that tinged the air around us.


Mornings were not my thing. They weren’t something I avidly wanted to be a part of, especially on the weekends. So when some unseen force woke me up at seven on a Saturday morning, I was anything but happy. Yet, sleep evaded me and with a frustrated groan, I kicked off the covers and made my way into the kitchen. When I turned on the light, a scream forced itself out of my mouth when I caught a glimpse of the figure sitting at the breakfast bar.

“Hey,” the voice said, unphased and I immediately clutched my chest as I glared at the shadowy form.

“What the fuck Steve. Couldn’t you have knocked?”

Steve shrugged as he leaned forward. His blonde hair was limp against his forehead and his skin was paler than normal. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

“Oh, so sneaking into my apartment is your next best option?” He shrugged again and I rolled my eyes. “You Avengers need to learn a thing or two about privacy, Jesus.” Scowling, I stalked to the cabinet and pulled out a mug. “Coffee?”

“Please.”

I pulled out another and went to my Keurig and powered it on. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked as I stopped by the refrigerator to grab the creamer.

“Nice place you have here.” Steve ignored my question as he glanced around my apartment. “Boston suits you.”

I nodded as I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out his play. “Yeah, I love it here. It’s peaceful.”

His eyebrows flickered up before the settled back down and he stared at the Keurig. He looked haunted. I frowned at his gaunt expression and turned to the Keurig and inserted Black Silk and slid his cup beneath the spout and pressed a few buttons and soon coffee was pouring into his cup. I knew how he took his coffee I had made it for him only how many times at the Facility. As soon as the coffee finished, I added creamer and one sugar before stirring idly and slid the mug to him.

He nodded his thanks and wrapped his hands around the mug. I saw the slight tremble to his fingers as he gripped the ceramic and I frowned again.

“Steve,” I murmured. “What’s going on?”

He flicked his eyes up and seemed surprised for a moment. “I forgot how perceptive you are. Bucky always loved that about you.” I winced at his name and immediately turned my head to the floor. Steve sighed and set down his cup and rubbed a hand over his weary face. For the first time, he looked his age, 98 years old and tired of the world. “Something’s happened. Things aren’t so good…at the facility,” he muttered and my blood ran cold. I gripped the edge of the counter as I struggled to remain composed.

“Is Natasha–?”

“She’s okay, it’s not her,” he assured me quickly and I visibly relaxed. “She wanted to be here but she had to stay.”

I furrowed my brow as I stared at Steve, my brain turning to try and keep up. “What happened? Why couldn’t she be here?”

Steve swallowed as his shoulders hunched forward. “She had to watch Bucky.” His voice was so quiet I could barely hear him.

“Watch Bucky?” His name felt weird against my lips. It was the first time I had spoken his name in months and automatically I felt something stir deep inside me. “Steve, what are you trying to tell me? What’s going on?”

Steve stared at the creamy liquid inside his mug. When his eyes finally met mine I was shocked at the pain that swam in the blue irises. “Bucky…he’s lost it. He, I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

My heart shattered for Steve as I saw the hopelessness weigh him down and gray his features. “Steve…” I whispered softly.

“He’s just…he won’t eat. He won’t sleep, he won’t talk to anyone. He hasn’t left his room in two weeks. Nothing I say matters. It’s the…this is the worst episode he’s ever had. I’ve never seen him like this in my life.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I rounded the breakfast bar and collected Steve into a hug. He didn’t relax. His shoulders still tense but he let me rub his back. “I’m so sorry, Steve. I am.” I sighed softly as I pressed my cheek to his hair. “I don’t know what to tell you Steve, you know how he gets. There’s nothing you can do, nothing any of us can do.”

“Yes there is,” he whispered and pulled back as he stared at me. Instantly, I knew what he was going to say and I began shaking my head.

“Steve–”

“Please, listen. Please,” he begged. “He needs you. He’s not…he hasn’t been the same without you.”

I shook my head again, this time more adamant. “He doesn’t need me,” I whispered.

“He does. He’s…he does, believe me, please.” Steve sighed and carded his hand through his hair roughly. “I can’t…I can’t help him. I can’t say anything, I can’t do anything. But if you…if you could just see him, just talk to him. Maybe–”

“I’ll make it worse.” My voice was hollow and it didn’t sound like me. “I promise Steve, I’m the last person you want there.”

No, goddammit,” Steve growled as he glared at me, years of pain burned in his eyes. “Don’t you see? He’s not…he’s not Bucky. He’s pretended that he’s been fine but he’s not.”

“Steve–”

“Don’t abandon him, please. Don’t. Not now, please.”

Abandon him?” I laughed. It was humorless and empty as I backed away from Steve. “He’s the one who left me, Steve. You don’t…you have no idea what he said…”


“Hey,” I called out when I heard the front door open. “I’m making dinner, hope you’re–” My words died in my throat when I heard the dorm slam shut again, the force shook the apartment. I froze and listened as heavy feet stormed from the door into the kitchen. I turned and saw his face, brooding and dark and I knew it was going to be one of those nights.

“How was training?” I tried. He ignored me as he strode to the fridge and ripped open the door nearly taking it off its hinges. He peered inside then scowled heavily before slamming it shut again. He didn’t offer me a glance as he stalked out again. I sighed heavily as I stirred the pasta and put the lid on. My first instinct was to run after him but I knew that wouldn’t do me any good. When he got in these moods, the only thing I could do was give him his space until he calmed down enough to come out.

I ate dinner by myself and stowed a plate for him in the microwave. I cleaned the dishes and went through a movie before I looked at the clock and realized it was past ten and he still hadn’t made an appearance. With a resigned sigh, I steeled my nerves and approached the bedroom door. Slowly, I creaked it open and found him lying on the bed face up. His hands clutched the sheets so tightly I could see the tears in the fabric and the whole room crackled with tense energy.

“Bucky,” I murmured. “Your dinner’s cold.”

“Don’t care,” he muttered and I tried not to flinch. I hated when he got this. Angry at everything but most of all, angry at himself.

“Yes you do,” I said as I closed the door behind me. I stepped forward until I could sit down on the bed, careful to keep my distance. “Bucky, what’s going on?”

“Nothin’.”

“Please,” I whispered. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Bucky laughed and I looked up. I wished I hadn’t. There was so much anger trapped in his blue eyes it made my skin crawl. “And what, you think I like being like this? You think I enjoy doing this?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know that,” I protested. He snarled as he sat up and the sheets tore with him.

“Then what did you mean? You hate this part of me? Is this not good enough for you? Sorry love, this is who I am. Can’t always please you, can I?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Forget it,” he snapped as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and clutched his head in his hands. My heart cracked in my chest as I watched his shoulders shake from the tremendous weight that constantly threatened to suffocate him. “You can’t fix me. I can’t be saved,” he muttered.

“Bucky, I don’t want to fix you. There’s nothing to be fixed.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “You know damn well I’m as fucked up as anyone. That’s why you’re here. You want to help me, make me better. Change me. I can’t change, can’t you see that? Can’t you understand?”

“I don’t want you to change, can’t you see that?” I met his eyes as I begged him to understand. “I want to help you, please, let me.”

“Help me?” He scoffed. “Help me? You can’t help me, you don’t understand. You’ll never, ever understand.”

“Then help me understand,” I shot back as I leaned forward. “Let me in, please Bucky. Don’t try to do this yourself, please.”

“You don’t get it,” he sneered as his upper lip curled. “You come from a perfect fucking world. A perfect fucking family, white picket fence and everything. You’ve got your perfect fucking friends and your perfect fucking job. You don’t know a thing about what I go through, you don’t know jack shit. Stop pretending you understand because you don’t.”

I gaped in silence as his words lashed out like a whip, scalding over my face. “You don’t mean that,” I whispered.

“You think so?” He growled as he stood up abruptly, his blue eyes like ice as he vibrated with anger. “You think I need you? You can’t do anything for me, you’ve never been able to help and you never will. I don’t need you, I’ve never needed you.”

“Bucky, stop,” I pleaded. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be. I’ve never seen him this angry, never in my life.

“Fuckin’…you know what? Forget it.” He whirled around and stormed out of the bedroom. I sat in shock, my eyes wet with tears without even realizing it. I listened as the door was thrown open and winced as it slammed shut and shook the apartment. In the silence that followed, I crumpled onto the bed and gripped the holes he had made in the sheets as I tried desperately to control my breathing.

It’s not real, he didn’t mean it. It’s just a dream, it’ll be okay, I thought to myself like a mantra but the more I said it the less I believed it.

“Will you stay?” I whispered into his pillow as tears burned against my skin.

The silence that followed was the only answer I needed as I finally let the sobs rack my body.


“He needs you,” Steve whispered and I shook my head. I knew I was crying, I couldn’t help it. The memory of the night burned like a fresh burn.

“Believe me when I say this, he doesn’t,” I whispered as I backed up against the counter. The Keurig was hot behind me but I ignored it.

“He keeps asking for you,” Steve said and I closed my eyes at the fresh pain the flared in my chest. “Every time…every, every day. He always asks for you. And then – we have to tell him that you’re not there. And he just…he just breaks and I don’t know what to do.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” I whispered as I looked at Steve. “You know that, when he has his episodes he’ll say whatever comes to mind.”

Steve shook his head adamantly. “Not now. He begs for you, he needs you. Please, don’t let him go. Please. He needs you, he misses you so much.” He held his hand up when I tried to interrupt and I reluctantly kept it shut. “I know, I know what he said. He told me and so did Nat. He hates himself for it, every day he blames himself for making you leave. He’s scared. He’s so scared and he doesn’t know what to do but he needs you. Please, don’t let him go. He just…I know what he said and I know it hurt more than anything. But don’t give up. Not yet.”

I was really crying now and I furiously tried to wipe my eyes as I shook my head. “Steve, I…I can’t, you know I can’t.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you say yes?” Steve leaned forward and just the look on his face made me want to climb onto the quinjet. “Please. He’s my best friend…I can’t, I hate seeing him like this. You’re the only one who made him better.”

I bowed my head and watched as my tears splashed against my leg. “Steve…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I can’t do anything. I know he says he needs me but…you don’t understand, he doesn’t…it’s not like that anymore. Maybe…maybe I’ll come when he’s calmer, when he’s out of his episode. But not now, not when he’s so vulnerable. I can’t do that to him, I can’t.”

Steve sighed and nodded gravely as he stood up and set his mug into the sink. He turned to me and enveloped me into a strong hug, a hug I hadn’t realized I needed until I was in it. I took in a shaky breath as Steve squeezed my shoulders. “You’re the only one he’s ever truly loved,” he whispered and my chest cracked open as I held back the hard sobs. He stepped back and gave me a sad smile and I could see in his eyes that he was trying to understand. That walking away right now was the last thing he wanted to do. “Please…think about it. That’s all I ask.”

I nodded and watched as he turned his back and disappeared out the window, the distant purr of the quinjet was what I heard before I sagged against the kitchen counter and cried harder than I had over the past six months.


It had been two days since Steve had come to my apartment and our conversation was all I could think about. I tried to move on. I tried to shake off his words. But they were like a mantra in my head that never went away.

He needs you.

He’s my best friend, please.

You’re the only one he’s ever loved.

He needs you.

And the more his words repeated in my mind, the more my resolve began to crack until finally I found myself purchasing a plane ticket and arriving at New York.

I approached the facility late at night, the lights still blazed despite it being close to midnight. With a sigh and fear clenching my insides, I strode through the front door and walked up to the security desk. The security guard was flicking through the CCTVs with a bored expression when I approached him.

“Sorry miss, no visitors at this hour,” he drawled as he kept his gaze fixated on the computer screens.

“I’m…um, I’m here to see Captain Steve Rogers?”

“No visitors at this hour,” he repeated again, monotone. I sighed and gripped the counter to hide my frustration.

“I need to see Steve Rogers. It’s important.”

“No visitors at this–”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” I muttered as I whipped out my cell phone. The guy didn’t even acknowledge me as I dialed Natasha’s number.

“Romanoff,” she replied in a brisk voice though I could hear the exhaustion that dripped behind the cold voice.

“Nat, it’s me.” I eyed the guard as he still dutifully ignored me. “I’m here, at the facility. Where are you?”

What?” There was a sudden commotion through the speaker before her voice returned. “I’ll be there in a minute, don’t move.”

I ended the call and glared pointedly at the security guard who didn’t even move, his finger clicked on the mouse every interval of three. Some security I thought wryly to myself before I heard the elevator ping and out stepped Natasha. She looked exhausted, her hair was knotted and the bags beneath her eyes were a dark purple as she practically ran towards me.

“Hi,” I said once she stood in front of me. She nodded in greeting, her face grim.

“C’mon, he needs you,” she said in a stiff voice and I could tell she was barely holding it together. I followed her into the elevator and she pressed the button marked 35. Bucky’s floor.

“Nat,” I murmured in the quiet elevator. “How bad is he?” I knew Steve told me he was bad, but Steve had a tendency to overdramatize things especially when it came to Bucky. I wanted to make sure that what Steve told me was in fact, the truth.

“It’s good that you’re here,” she whispered. It’s all she said, but it was enough.

I nodded and swallowed thickly. “Are you monitoring him?”

“Full surveillance.” Natasha confirmed as the doors slid open and we stepped onto Bucky’s floor. “We have to.”

“Shut it off,” I whispered. Natasha was about to protest but I silenced her with a hard glare. “If I’m going to talk to him, it’s going to be just me and Bucky. He deserves his privacy. I’m not going in there until video and audio is cut off. I’m serious, Nat. I’m going to talk to Bucky as a friend, not as a psychiatrist. We don’t need to be monitored.”

Natasha nodded bleakly and squeezed my hand tightly. “Be careful,” she whispered before she disappeared down the hallway. I waited and calmed my churning stomach as I clasped and unclasped my hands in front of me. Two minutes later I got a text from Natasha.

Surveillance cut. Be safe, please.

I pocketed my phone and strode towards Bucky’s door. My hand hesitated in front of the keypad before I shook my head and steeled my nerves. I punched in the familiar code and the doors slid open.

Inside, everything was clean. The bed was made and everything was set within a specific place – nothing out of order. All of the picture frames were gone; the candles I had used to rid the metallic scent of blood were nowhere to be seen. The comforter was replaced with a dull gray quilt.

There was no color, no life.

Everything was too neat. There were no creases in the bed spread when I knew before he couldn’t have cared less how the blankets looked I was always the one who made the bed. The frames were gone but I saw the marks on the bureau from where the corners of the frames had hit too hard and chipped away at the stain. I could still smell a hint of the lavender candles I always used to light but it was overwhelmed with the scent of beech wood like he had done everything in his power to rid the lavender from the room. There were cobwebs laced in the corners of the room and when I looked down I saw cracks in the tile. I wondered how hard his fists had hit the floor to make those marks. The couches all had covers over them but as they fluttered in the air of the heating I could see the pockets of fabric missing from where he had ripped out chunks of the upholstery.

The entire room was set up to make it seem like he was fine when he was really anything but.

I turned my head and jolted when I saw Bucky staring at me. He stood in the doorframe of the bathroom seemingly frozen in place. His clothes were clean, his shirt pressed and his jeans free of grease stains. His hair fell loose around his face and his eyes were bright and wide.

“Why are you here?” His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in weeks and I flinched at the sharp hostility in his tone. I knew this was a bad idea, I knew it. My sudden burst of confidence was dwindling fast and I tried vainly to grasp onto it. I turned my head away and swallowed thickly.

“Uh…I just, wanted to…I don’t know. Um, I just wanted to see how you were, I guess. But if you want me to go then I’ll, I’ll go–”

“Wait,” he broke me off as he leaned on the balls of his feet. “Sorry, um, you just…surprised me, I guess.”

I nodded slowly as I rocked back on my heels. “Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Bucky nodded again and gave me a soft shrug. There was a pregnant pause and I opened my mouth to make my escape but Bucky beat me to it. “Um, sit, please.” He mumbled, pointing to the armchair facing the window. I chewed on my bottom lip before I relented with a sigh and walked forward, clutching my bag to my chest. Bucky sat on the loveseat that was before the TV.

“So,” I broke the silence once I sat down, “how have you been?”

Bucky shrugged, still not huge on conversation. It reminded me when I first met him. He barely spoke a word to me. It was like he didn’t know me, all over again. “You look good,” he muttered, completely dodging my question. I sighed inwardly as I subconsciously touched my hair.

“Yeah, well, you know. I’m trying. All in a day’s work, right?” I attempted to joke but I knew it fell flat. He wrung his hands together, spreading them apart then clutching them back together.

“And how’s that going for you?” His voice was empty, as if he was steeling himself for an answer he didn’t want to hear.

It was my turn shrug. “I dunno, seemed to have fooled everyone.”

“Everyone?” He murmured and his eyes finally met mine. The icy chasms took my breath away even now.

“Yeah,” I breathed out. His face was expressionless as he looked away. “So…you seem to be doing good.” I nodded to the bed with a small smile on my face.

“Of course I am,” he bit out. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

I winced, his words like a hot knife through his chest. Of course he was fine. He was the one who left me. Suddenly, everything Steve said flew out the window. Bucky never needed me. Just like he had said.

“Yeah,” I mouthed. “Right, of course.”

Bucky shook his head and I saw anger twist his features. “Why are you even here?” He stared at me, his eyes dead. My breath rattled in my chest as my mouth formed no words. After several heartbeats of silence Bucky shook his head and stood up, storming to the bathroom. The door rattled in the doorframe when he slammed it shut and I winced at the sudden sound.

“I don’t know,” I whispered into the silence. Hot tears formed in my eyes and I willed them to go away with a tight squeeze of my eyelids. I refused to cry again. I was done crying over Bucky Barnes. There was obviously no love lost with him, it was time for me to realize that. When I opened my eyes, my vision was blurry but I forced myself up with a staggered breath. With soft steps I pushed open the door and shut it quietly behind me. I looked up at the security camera that I knew was trained on Bucky’s door. Where I knew Nat and Steve were watching. I gave a small shake of my head, pressing my lips together as a fresh wave of tears flooded my eyes. My legs willed me towards the elevator and somehow my body followed.

It was almost mechanical, my actions, like the voice that spoke to me in the elevator. Once the doors closed I leaned against the cool walls hoping the cold will bring back some semblance of thought. I used the trip down to the ground floor as a way to gather myself. “Let him go, let him go,” I kept repeating to myself, like an endless mantra. I figured if I kept saying, eventually I’d believe it.

The ground floor was dead; the security guard had seemingly decided to leave the desk unattended. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I strode purposefully towards the revolving doors, repeating the three words in my head.

A sudden crash interrupted my train of thought as I nearly jumped ten feet in the air. I whipped around and saw the door that led to the set of the stairs plastered to the opposite wall, the hinges creaking slightly. Bucky emerged from the destroyed frame as he ran towards me, skidding to a stop before me. He was barely panting even though he had just launched a vibranium infused door into the next century.

“Don’t…don’t go,” he grated out, his voice so rough it sounded like sandpaper.

“What?” I managed to pull my gaze from the doorway to him. His eyes were slightly crazed, blown so wide I was worried they would pop out of his head.

“Don’t leave, please. Please…stay, stay.”

I gazed at him in shock, wondering if I was looking at the same guy as I slowly began to shake my head. “I, uh…I think I should go.”

No,” he sprung forward when I took a step back and froze in place. “Please, please. Don’t leave me. Not yet, not now. Please.”

I kept shaking my head as my legs unfroze and took two more steps back as I began to turn away from him. “I can’t, I can’t,” I repeated. I willed my voice not to break as I stumbled back, nearly tripping over my own feet. Bucky was quiet as I nearly sprinted to the revolving doors, my heart cracking against my ribcage. I almost made it, my hand outstretched to the handle when he spoke.

“I didn’t mean it.” Four words, spoken so softly but they reverberated throughout the entire room. “I…I didn’t mean, what I said. I never meant it.”

I couldn’t turn around. I couldn’t face him just yet. “Why did you say it? Why? Was it just to – to hurt me?”

“Yes.” I winced at the single word that cut through my heart. It was like the final nail in the coffin, the reminder that I didn’t matter.

“Right,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I have to go.”

“No, no wait,” Bucky began pleading behind me as I pushed the glass panel before me. The door began to turn and just as I was about to reach the exit, the door suddenly screeched to a halt and my face nearly went through the glass. I peeled my face off of the glass and whipped around to see Bucky’s metal arm holding the door back.

“Let me go,” I demanded as I slammed my shoulder against the glass. It didn’t even budge. “Goddammit Bucky, I am going to suffocate if you do not let me out.”

“I need you to listen to me.”

“By trapping me?” I nearly screeched. “God, what else do you want with me? Do you just want to hurt me some more, really destroy my self-esteem? Because honestly, I think you have done enough.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” his voice was fierce but I scoffed and nearly laughed in his face.

“How else could you possibly mean that, Bucky?” He bowed his head but didn’t say anything. He was dead quiet. I shook my head and slammed my hands against the glass. All it did was shudder. Tears pricked my eyes as my throat constricted. “Do you like seeing me like this? Is that what this is? Is this some sort of fucked up game for you?”

“What?” Bucky gasped. “God, no. It was never–”

“Then why?” I yelled, stepping three feet to the other glass panel that confined me. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you know,” he whispered and I just gaped at me. A few moments passed as I waited for him to respond, to elaborate in some way. But he didn’t.

“Know what, Bucky? What are you talking about?”

“You just know,” he repeated, the plates in his arm rippled as he gripped the handle harder. “You…you look at me, and you know. You don’t have to ask, we don’t have to talk, I don’t have to say anything and you just know. One look at me and it’s like you just…get it and no one has ever done that before.”

I blinked at him before I raised my hands up in defense. “You know, this might just be me, but isn’t that what people want? Someone who knows the other one? I really thought that was something good in a relationship.”

“It is, it was one…it was good. But it – it terrified me. Nobody has known me like that in…decades. Steve used to, but even now he doesn’t. But you…you, who has no idea what I’ve gone through. You’ve never held a gun in your life, you just know. You understand me like no one ever has and it scares the shit out of me. Because I’m so used to saying the right thing, to acting a certain way to make sure I wasn’t noticed. But you just…God you just see right through me no matter how hard I try to keep you out.”

“So…you said all of those things…because I know you?” I stared at him in disbelief. It was ridiculous, even for Bucky. I found it so hard to believe him. Suspicion began to grow in my stomach as I narrowed my eyes at Bucky. It was then that I realized he hadn’t looked at me. Throughout his whole speech he couldn’t even look my way. “Bucky,” I prompted. “Look at me.” He ignored me and I nearly exploded. “Jesus, the least you could do is look at me. At least give me that.” Seconds ticked away before Bucky finally tore his gaze from the ground and met mine. His eyes burned with an emotion I couldn’t pinpoint, but it was something so strong it nearly knocked my breath away. “What aren’t you telling me?” I whispered. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Bucky shook his head as a small chuckle left his mouth. “This is what I mean,” he murmured, “you see right through me.”

“Then can you please explain what I’m seeing? Because it makes no sense right now.” Bucky seemed to shrink away at my voice. He carded his fingers through his hair while my gaze flickered over his body. He was wound so tight I worried he’d crumble right in front of me. “Please,” I whispered my voice softening as I took another step forward. “Tell me.”

Bucky shook his head. “I can’t…I can’t.”

“Why not? Bucky…why?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” he hissed. “It shouldn’t…it shouldn’t be like this.”

I stared at him in confusion, trying to piece together his vague words. “Okay, okay,” I spoke to mostly myself but I knew Bucky heard. “You don’t have to tell me, that’s okay. Just, uh, explain, yeah. Explain to me what’s going on.”

Bucky sighed and dropped his head to his chest as if he was suddenly exhausted. His broad chest expanded as he took in a deep breath and I tried not to speak. I swallowed thickly and took a step back, to give him space though really he had enough.

“I don’t know…I don’t know how.” He began and I held my breath, afraid if I breathed too loudly I’d scare him. “It’s like, everything was a blur. I was okay, I felt, I loved, I knew what happiness was, I knew guilt and sadness. But it’s like nothing ever stuck, I just kept cycling through these emotions. And I, I always thought that if I ever met the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, I’d have to lay all of the cards on the table. I thought I’d have to have this great intervention with the drama and the fanfare and the tears and everything.

“But then…but then I met you. And I didn’t have to explain anything. You just looked at me and smiled. And the way you look at me, it’s like I’m all you see, y’know? And I’ve never…that’s never happened before. Even on my worst days, you never wavered. You just held me and let me be me. I never had to worry about being Bucky or James or…him. I was just who I wanted to be and you…you loved me all the same. And I saw it, how much you loved me.

“I’m not…I’m not a good person. I know I’m not, but you don’t. You refused to believe it no matter what people told you, no matter how right they were. It’s like you didn’t care and you should because I’m…I’ve done bad things. And it scares me, it scares me that you can love me so unconditionally and I can’t even give you a fraction of that because I’ve done so much, I’ve done such terrible things that loving you can hardly make up for anything. And I tried, I tried so hard to make things right with you. To try and be good for you. But you saw through that too, you saw through it all and God it scared me.

“And I knew the only way for you to see, to understand me, was for you to hate me. Only then would you let me go. And I didn’t want…I never wanted to hurt you. And I know I did, I know what I said hurt you in ways I never wanted to imagine. But you just…you saw too much. You saw too much and you knew too much and you loved so goddamn much and I can’t give you that. I can’t give you the love you deserve, I can never give you that. But you don’t…you didn’t get it. And I tried to make you see it but you…didn’t so I had…I had to make you see.”

His voice broke at the very end, a sob wrenching through his clenched teeth and my heart nearly broke in two. His breath was ragged, as if what he had just told me equaled climbing Mount Everest.

“So…” I finally spoke as my mind struggled to wrap around what he said. “You don’t love me? Is this…is this the point? I love you but you don’t love me.”

“No, God, no.” Bucky shook his head as he carded a hand roughly through his hair. “Don’t you see? I love you too much. I love you so goddamn much it hurts. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. But that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t…it’s just, it’s not right.”

I narrowed my eyes at him as I crossed my arms. “Do you see a judge anywhere? Are we in some sort of Congressional meeting I’m not aware of? Is there a jury sitting at the security desk right now?”

He furrowed his brows. “No.”

“Awesome. Then what the fuck are you trying to prove and who the fuck are you trying to prove it to?” I glared at him as I spoke. Bucky opened his mouth but I was too angry to stop. “You know what Bucky, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. Your past is fucked up. What happened to you is so beyond fucked up I can’t understand and I most definitely never will. But it’s exactly that. You’re past. You need to move on because I’m pretty sure everyone else has.”

“But–”

“Do not interrupt me.” I jammed a finger at him and he automatically shut his mouth. “You’re so goddamn immersed in your past you’re too blind to see what’s happening right in front of you. And you’re right. I did love you. I loved you so much that sometimes I don’t even think it’s real. Some nights I stay awake just to make a list of ways to prove to you how much I loved you without ever saying it.

“But fuck you. Fuck you for deciding who I love, or how I love, or when I love. Fuck you for not letting me prove it to you and not seeing it when I tried. Fuck you for never sticking around long enough and never showing that you cared. Fuck you for breaking my heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces afterwards. Fuck you for not staying.”

I was panting by the time I finished my rant. Everything in me buzzed as the adrenaline coursed through my veins. Bucky was silent as he stared at me, unmoving. I had never yelled like that before in my life and I was positive Bucky had never seen me like this.

“I’m–”

Don’t,” I snarled. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” I shook my head and turned away from him, my stomach rolled and twisted uncomfortably. “God, I’m so mad at you. I’m so fucking mad.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

“Good,” I shot back. It was childish but I wasn’t about to let him get the last word. But as soon as I said it I felt a wave of exhaustion rush over me and my shoulders dropped in response. With a heavy sigh I rested my head against the cool glass in search of relief but found none. “What do you want from me Barnes?” I finally whispered.

“I want a second chance.”

I scoffed under my breath. “Second chance? I gave you too many chances. You had more than one opportunity to stay. You chose not to.”

“Fine,” Bucky acquiesced. “Give me one more chance.”

“Right,” I said bitterly. “What’s going to be so different about this one? You’re going to tell me you love me and then leave? Won’t that be the icing on the fucking cake?”

“Let me prove to you that I love you. This time, for real. No more running, no more games. I swear to you I’m gonna be there this time.”

I turned my head to the side and watched the moonlight dance on the steel beams of the door. “I don’t trust you,” I admitted honestly. I could feel the walls locking in around my chest, protecting me from whatever he said.

“I know,” he repeated. “Give me a chance to win that trust back.”

“That’s two chances, Bucky. You said one.”

“A chance to win your trust and another to prove that I love you, and that you love me too.” I turned to face him, about to give him a snarky remark but the moment I saw his face my voice died. He was open, raw, vulnerable. His eyes shimmered with unfallen tears and his gaze was so intense I felt as if I was drowning. “Please.” Just one word. But it was loaded with so much sincerity and desperation I couldn’t find it in me to say no.

“Okay,” I finally relented and his face utterly transformed. A glimmer of hope shone in his eyes and he immediately stood up straight. “This is not a yes,” I immediately snapped as I glared at him. “This is just an opportunity for redemption. But we go my pace. Whatever I say goes. You so much as cross a line I swear to–”

“I know.”

“And you’re not kissing me. Or touching me. Unless I say so. I’m serious Bucky, no funny–”

“I know.”

“This does not guarantee anything either. If I’m not happy or I don’t believe you then I have every right to–”

“I know.”

I scowled angrily at him as I placed my hands on my hips. “Do you know everything?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I know you.” I forced the scowl to stay on my lips despite the smile that threatened to shine through.

“Right, of course you do,” I grumbled.

“So,” he smiled that million dollar smile that made me weak in the knees the very first time I saw it,

Will you stay?

✨Bless Sings!!✨ so grateful for this Aina. This land is your land. This land is my land. Sitting in the Presence of the One Great Spirit. The light that flows through us all in perfect balance. Creating harmonic vibrations. We sing. We dance. We flow. Swimming through the stream of Infinite Peace and Divine Oneness. Pray with me. Play with me. Give thanks for this life. Each breath. A gift. I tune into the breath. I remember my Presence. Affirming. Ive got so much to GIVE!!! I’ve got so much to Share!! The light of God / Goddess is within ME!! Blessing us All with this remembrance of our Truth. We are One. We are One. We are One. ✨🌈✨🙏🏽✨