#connected even when physically separated

[myapothecarydiary]

protagonist and deuteragonist

[musclesandhammering]

An interesting thing we don’t really go into is how, even after the TVA workers have their memories shown to them, they still don’t actually remember their lives on the timeline.

B-15 said “I looked happy” not “I remember being happy”, Mobius watched his family with admiration but no recognition, C-20 talked about her time in the bar like a revelation but one without any nostalgia attached to it, Brad acted more like a doppelgänger who bumped his twin off and stole his life rather than a guy reclaiming his own, etc.

It’s very subtle but it really adds to the feeling of them genuinely being seperate entities from their sacred timeline selves. Like, Mobius was right when he said it’s not his life, this [the TVA] is.

[expectiations]

You should totally talk about River’s ‘The Doctor does not and has never loved me’ speech and emotional impermanence!

I’ve thought about it before, and to me it’s always seemed like it stemmed from a very relatable ‘I’m not good enough for the Doctor’ mentality?

Finally had enough breathing space to have a bit of a chat about these two. I have already yapped about my thoughts on that speech, but the more I learn about emotional permanence (or the lack of it), the more I see it in River. It's not a widely known concept I think, especially within the fandom. It may not have been in Moffat's mind when he wrote THORS but it still makes sense. Anyways, I hope I answered your ask adequately below!

River’s "The Doctor does not and has never loved me" speech reflects a moment of raw pain and emotional impermanence. It happens during a period of profound grief following the loss of her parents and a period of separation from the Doctor. Her words aren’t grounded in reality but in her state of mind—a mix of grief, emotional impermanence, and the effects of a miscommunication fueled by their nonlinear timelines.

River’s feelings of inadequacy aren’t caused mainly by the Doctor’s actions. He is openly affectionate, both verbally and physically. Their love is steady and enduring. However, River’s emotional impermanence makes it hard for her to hold onto that sense of being loved when the Doctor isn’t physically present. When he’s around, his love feels undeniable. When he isn’t, her mind fills the gaps with self-doubt: If he’s not here, does he still love me?

This emotional impermanence is amplified by their out-of-sync relationship. The Doctor’s absences, combined with the grief of losing her parents, make it harder for River to believe she’s enough. This isn’t about the reality of their love but how her emotional state distorts her perception of it.

By the time River delivers her speech, it’s clear a massive misunderstanding has occurred. Both are grieving Amy and Rory, but their coping methods clash. River suggests going to Darillium, perhaps as a way to reconnect and process their loss together. The Doctor refuses—not because he doesn’t care, but because he fears Darillium marks the end of their time together. His attempt to protect her only drives her away.

For River, his refusal may have felt like rejection. Emotional impermanence convinces her that his pushing her away reflects how he feels about her. In reality, the Doctor’s love hasn’t wavered—his absence stems from his fear of losing her. This miscommunication leaves them both isolated in their grief.

The Doctor’s reaction to the row is evident in The Snowmen, where he retreats into isolation, believing his time with River has ended. He searches for her to make amends but never finds her, yet upon seeing her data ghost, he is convinced their time is over. River, meanwhile, is left to process their fight on her own. By the time we see her in The Husbands of River Song, it’s clear the wound hasn’t healed.

River’s strength lies in her ability to keep functioning, even while carrying deep emotional wounds. She can compartmentalize her pain, locking it away to continue living her life. But her "The Doctor does not and has never loved me" speech is a moment where those walls break down. It reveals how much the row, their separation, and her emotional impermanence have affected her. It’s not a reflection of reality, but a cry of pain from someone who feels disconnected from the person she loves most.

River’s speech isn’t about a lack of love from the Doctor—it’s about the intersection of her grief, emotional impermanence, and their miscommunication. Their love is not fleeting or weak. It’s enduring, as evidenced by their reconciliation at Darillium. The speech reflects River’s humanity: beneath her larger-than-life confidence is someone who experiences self-doubt, pain, and longing like anyone else. Their relationship, with all its complications, remains a testament to their deep love and commitment.

[nexus-nebulae]

suddenly realising that a decent amount of our system's dysfunctions might be due to OCD 😭😭😭

[homunculus-argument]

I don't think fantasy writers play enough with the concept of the different fantasy races having distinct ethnicities. Like imagine a group of mixed peoples, where the dwarves are all roasting each other like dwarves do, and one of them remarks that when he first saw one of the other dwarves in the group, he mistook her for a man. The other dwarves in the group blink in surprise - the closest that dwarves will go to an audible gasp of shock - and she pulls out a knife and tries to stab him.

Once the dwarves have been separated from each other and the situation has calmed, one of the humans asks another dwarf what that incident was about. Naturally a human woman would have been insulted too, but dwarves are so jovial about insulting each other, why was this matter different?

And the dwarf who was asked explains that there are things you can brutally insult another dwarf about, and there are things you simply do not touch. The dwarf-woman in question is from a completely different region of The Great Underground as the others, and her people have different norms about what kind of patterns men and women braid into their beards. The dwarf insulting her wasn't only insulting her appearance, he was being racist.

The human is surprised to learn that dwarves have different peoples, and the dwarf looks at them like at an idiot. Of course they do, they even look completely different from each other. And the human listens as the dwarf lists off various distinguishing clothing details too nuanced for a human to notice, and then how dwarves coming from different corners of the world have different physical traits, according to what kind of conditions their local stone types dictate.

The human spots a connection and goes oh! We have that too, though ours are not about rock types and tunnel air, but the weather aboveground. Humans' facial features vary by how hot, cold, arid or windy their ancestors' homelands were, and our skin tone varies by how much the sun shines in their native region.

The dwarf frowns at the last part, going "I thought you people just paint your skin and dye your hair for fun", and the human admits that yeah, we do that too, but not all the time, and not the whole skin. The dwarf asks, what of that tall woman the colour of dravite, her palms and the soles of her feet were lighter than the rest of her. Does that mean she paints herself dark to be more beautiful?

The human says no, that just happens naturally. Maybe it's because one's palms and feet aren't exposed to the sun as much, so they are paler.

The dwarf nods, still unsure whether this is actually legit or just the human habit of lying for fun, and proceeds to ask about the wild northman of their party. He is as pale as an olm, but the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet are dark. Are they painted, or naturally that way?

No, the human answers. That guy just doesn't bathe.

[cilantroodon]

[ID: Four gifs of Jamie from Ted Lasso in black and white with text over them. The first two are Jamie having his cheek pinched by his mom, and him grabbing Roy's face, with the text "How much of my mother has my mother left in me? / How much of my love will be insane to some degree?" The second two are of his dad shadowboxing up to him before punching him, and Jamie shadowboxing Roy in Amsterdam, with the text "How much of my father am I destined to become? / Will it wash out in the water or is it always in the blood?" End ID.]

“could I change it if i wanted? can i rise above the flood?”

[fozmeadows]

the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[rainydetectiveglitter]

Lilith in the Houses: How You’re Sexualized or Misunderstood

Lilith represents raw, primal energy in your chart, and depending on where it sits, it can cause you to be sexualized or misunderstood. Below, I’ve shared some thoughts on how this placement manifests in each of the houses, along with personal anecdotes where applicable. Keep in mind, this is just my anecdotal evidence, meant for fun.

♈ Lilith in the 1st House Aries

People with Lilith in the 1st house often have an intense, captivating aura. There's something magnetic and fiery about you that can’t be ignored, and others tend to sexualize or focus on your bold, rebellious nature. This placement often gets you misjudged as wild or "bad" simply for being unapologetically yourself.

When I think about this placement, I always think of Tiger King. His sexuality was constantly discussed, and in a weird way, he became this spectacle because of it. It’s also fitting for someone like Michael Jackson—you often see men with this placement with makeup, eyeliner, or other dramatic visuals to showcase that captivating energy. Even though their sexuality isn’t always overt, people seem to be entranced by it anyway.

You might feel that society is always trying to push you into the "wild" or "sexualized" box based on how you express yourself. People either want to put you on a pedestal or demonize you for being strong, assertive, or rebellious.

You may choose to reject or lean into this image, asserting control over how others perceive you. You could even challenge the societal expectations placed on you and fight to redefine who you are in your own terms.

Cultivate a deep connection with yourself—embrace your true essence unapologetically. Learning to set boundaries and validate yourself can help reduce the impact of others’ projections.

♉ Lilith in the 2nd House Taurus

People with Lilith in the 2nd house often find their physical bodies or material possessions sexualized. There's this feeling that others equate your body to your self-worth. People might also judge you based on how you express yourself physically, interpreting your appearance or possessions as tied to your sexual appeal.

I don’t have many people in my life with this placement, but it’s interesting because some people do view their bodies almost like a possession—almost as if they think their value is solely based on what they look like. In other words, what you own or how you look can often become a reflection of your sexual worth.

You may feel that your worth is constantly tied to your looks or the material things you own. This leads to external pressure and the need to fight back against these surface-level judgments.

You might either put your worth into material things or rebel against them altogether, which is a big internal struggle. At times it might be hard to escape being seen only through the lens of external value.

Reconnect to your intrinsic self-worth—focus on building value from within. Learning to separate your identity from your possessions or body helps you reclaim your true sense of self.

♊ Lilith in the 3rd House Gemini

Lilith in the 3rd house can turn communication into a double-edged sword. This placement tends to sexualize the way you talk—your voice, tone, and speech patterns are often perceived as seductive or inappropriate. I have this placement, and people often react to my words or how I speak in ways that are totally unrelated to my intent. It’s not uncommon for people to want to take normal conversations to uncomfortable places like phone sex or sexting, especially in dating scenarios.

I can personally relate to this. When I worked in call centers, I got told time and time again how "attractive" or "sexy" my voice sounded—and sometimes people tried to take it into inappropriate directions. Even in group settings, I was often told that my speaking style made people uncomfortable, even though I wasn’t trying to be sexual at all. I’m not a sexual person in nature, but people still tried to pull me into these conversations based solely on how I spoke.

You’ll notice that people often try to make conversations about you sexual or flirtatious. That misinterpretation, where every word or gesture becomes something charged, can make your day-to-day life more challenging, especially when you’re just speaking freely. You may also have the feeling that you’re often misunderstood in public settings or school/work environments.

You might find yourself either resisting or rejecting these interpretations of your communication style, maybe becoming more reclusive or adjusting your approach altogether to avoid discomfort. There could also be moments when you want to “own” that sexualized persona simply as a defense mechanism, but it’s not who you are.

Own your voice and set clear boundaries in communication. When people misinterpret your words, use it as an opportunity to clarify your intent. Confidence in your language can shield you from unwanted projections.

♋ Lilith in the 4th House Cancer

With Lilith in the 4th house, family and home environments become a space for projected misunderstandings about who you are. Family members may make inappropriate or uncomfortable comments about your body or behavior growing up. As you age, they might even sexualize or misinterpret the way you interact or express yourself, often seeing you as "too grown for your age" or crossing boundaries that shouldn’t be discussed.

Growing up with Lilith in the 4th house, you might hear off-handed comments from family that make you feel uncomfortable about the normal, healthy process of growing up. Your behaviors or growth could be taken the wrong way, as if people have the right to define what’s "appropriate" for you in terms of sexuality. This projection can last into adulthood when family members still impose unrealistic or discomforting expectations on you.

Family projections around your body or sexual expression can affect your sense of self at the core. You may feel like you’re being misread or that your home environment doesn’t fully support your evolving self-expression.

You might challenge your family’s views of you or assert stronger boundaries within the family dynamic. There may be tension in these interactions, as your natural growth challenges their limiting expectations.

Establish healthy boundaries with your family and assert your identity on your terms. Communicating your real feelings with those closest to you, while setting clear boundaries around your development, will help shift those projections.

♌ Lilith in the 5th House Leo

With Lilith in the 5th house, your creativity, sexuality, and enjoyment of life become intertwined. You’ll notice that people often sexualize your playfulness, creative pursuits, and even your flirtatious nature. What should be considered playful or creative can sometimes be twisted into something too sexual, especially if you are expressive about your individuality.

People may only focus on the "fun" aspects of your personality and forget that there's much more depth to you. Your free-spirited, playful side can easily be interpreted as promiscuous or “overly sexual.” You might feel misunderstood for simply enjoying life or for being unapologetic in expressing your individuality.

You may lean into this sexuality for a while, either to match people’s expectations or as a way to cope with it, but it’s important to find the right balance. Embrace your creative freedom, but also be firm with others when it comes to how you express yourself.

Set strong boundaries around your creative energy and personal expression. Help others understand that your essence is more complex than how they try to sexualize you.

♍ Lilith in the 6th House Virgo

With Lilith in the 6th house, your workplace interactions or your approach to health can often be misunderstood. At work, others might project a certain sexualized image onto you, particularly in professional settings where boundaries should be respected. In my experience, I've witnessed situations where a male friend of mine faced sexual harassment, which they often brushed off to maintain peace. He dealt with frequent inappropriate advances and even physical groping from female coworkers, yet felt pressured to “laugh it off” and keep things lighthearted. He moved his things to another area in the office after. It's clear that a misunderstanding of professional boundaries happens with Lilith in this house.

While I don’t have Lilith in the 6th house myself, I’ve seen it firsthand. I believe that this placement can create discomfort when others try to sexualize your approach to work or health matters. It's hard because these boundaries often get crossed by people who don't take your professional image or seriousness into consideration.

The 6th house is about routine, health, and service, but Lilith here creates tension, with people viewing your work or contributions through a lens of desire rather than respect. Whether it’s at work or in a healthcare setting, feeling sexualized or disrespected in such personal areas can make you uncomfortable.

You might try to keep your distance or react by shutting people down, asserting your boundaries and your right to be respected. Or, you might even go the opposite route and become very vocal about defending your space, making sure others understand where you stand.

Work on strengthening your boundaries, especially when it comes to professional or intimate health matters. Practice keeping your environment focused on your work ethic, not your sexuality. Keep things professional and assertive, refusing to let others cross boundaries.

♎ Lilith in the 7th House Libra

With Lilith in the 7th house, relationships become a central area where you’re misjudged. People might project their sexual desires or desires for control onto your partnerships, reducing them to something physical or superficial rather than emotional. There's an intensity to how people view your relationships—it’s almost like they see them through a lens of desire and don’t always see you for who you truly are.

I’m curious to hear if anyone else with this placement has had similar experiences, but I imagine people might confuse the depth of your relationships for something too sexual or too chaotic. Since the 7th house is all about partnership, whether in romance, business, or even friendships, the idea of Lilith here could make it feel like every relationship becomes a power struggle or is sexually charged.

It can be tough because it feels like your partnerships are seen through projections of sexuality or power dynamics that you didn’t necessarily invite. These projections can make you feel misunderstood in your closest connections.

You might feel compelled to set extremely firm boundaries within your partnerships to avoid these projections. You may even feel the need to prove your worth in relationships beyond what’s expected of you, sometimes overcompensating for others’ misunderstandings.

Let go of others’ sexualized projections in your relationships. Be clear about your emotional needs and how you define intimacy. Surround yourself with people who value your connection beyond the surface level.

♏ Lilith in the 8th House Scorpio

Lilith in the 8th house is all about transformation, power dynamics, and shared resources, especially sexual intimacy. People might find you intensely magnetic and view your sexuality as your most powerful attribute. However, this can also make others see you as a mystery or a source of intrigue. There is a tendency for you to become sexualized, especially when dealing with issues of intimacy, control, or shared power.

The 8th house often deals with taboos, and with Lilith here, it might amplify that in ways where others expect you to use your power over them in intimate relationships or become seen as an object of both desire and obsession. This can also trigger the deep-seated fears in both you and others regarding trust and control in relationships.

You might be underestimated for your emotional depth, with the focus too often put on your sexuality. This can leave you feeling like you are misunderstood at your core, and that people only seek power through intimacy with you.

You may play into this mystique, allowing others to see you as they want to, or you may put up huge walls around your vulnerability, keeping your power closely guarded. Either way, navigating these intense dynamics can create an ongoing challenge to maintain a sense of self.

Work on transforming your personal power in ways that allow you to reclaim your own identity. Practice embracing deep emotional intimacy and power in a way that doesn’t compromise who you truly are at the soul level.

♐ Lilith in the 9th House Sagittarius

Lilith in the 9th house often leads others to sexualize or romanticize your ideas, philosophies, or your travels. Your belief system and personal growth are powerful, but people might be more intrigued by your provocative ideas or the way you expand their boundaries rather than seeing you as an intellectual authority. There’s an undercurrent of attraction, as others tend to focus on your adventurous or boundary-pushing nature.

The 9th house placement gives you a vast sense of expansion, but Lilith here can make your explorations, whether mental or physical, something others overly sexualize. It’s like you’re seen as someone who’s not just about knowledge, but about breaking every boundary—and that becomes sexualized.

You may feel like your desire for intellectual or physical exploration is misunderstood or reduced to something superficial by others. It's frustrating when what you deeply care about is diminished into sexual projections.

You might find it hard to reveal the true depth of your philosophical or adventurous side, feeling boxed into a role others have created for you. You could find yourself over-explaining or pulling back from sharing ideas at all.

Continue to seek intellectual, philosophical, and physical expansion in your life, but focus on doing it in a way that isn't limited by the projections of others. Reclaim your place as an explorer and learner without needing to fit into a mold others make for you.

♑ Lilith in the 10th House Capricorn

With Lilith in the 10th house, your public image, career, and reputation might get sexualized or reduced to how attractive or enticing you are in the public eye. There’s an intense energy that others sense, and some will focus only on the surface level—either deeming you a “sex symbol” or feeling threatened by your power. I have a friend who’s had similar experiences with Lilith here, where her sexuality was too often emphasized—sometimes by her family, others by society—leaving her struggling to find a way to separate herself from this imposed persona. Despite being talented and multifaceted, others often ignore these attributes, reducing her to a sexualized image.

You may feel frustration with the duality between the image people project onto you and who you really are. The constant struggle to have your full professional capabilities seen without your sexuality being the focus can be draining.

To cope, you might overcompensate by embodying this sexualized image more overtly online or offline, or you may go in the opposite direction and try to downplay your looks and focus solely on your work.

Set clear boundaries with your career and public life. Focus on presenting all the facets of yourself and refuse to be confined to only one. Let your true capabilities define you, not the projections others place on your image.

♒ Lilith in the 11th House Aquarius

Lilith in the 11th house means your presence in social groups and communities often comes with a layer of misinterpretation. People might see you as someone who “stirs the pot” in group settings, whether through your attractiveness, rebellious nature, or just by existing outside of the norm. You might be put in a position where your friendships are subtly (or not so subtly) sexualized, either by others assuming romantic or sexual undertones in your platonic relationships or by social circles treating you like an object of intrigue.

From what I’ve observed, this placement can create situations where people feel weirdly possessive over you in group settings. Friends might project their own insecurities onto you, assuming you must be manipulative, seductive, or disruptive just because of how others react to you. There can also be themes of exclusion—perhaps being ostracized or resented for something that isn’t even your fault.

Friendships can feel complicated. Either people try to control you, define you by your sexuality in group dynamics, or make you out to be a “bad influence.” Sometimes it feels like no matter what you do, there’s an energy that people react strongly to, whether positive or negative.

You might distance yourself from social groups to avoid dealing with all of the drama, or you could lean into your rebellious nature and embrace the fact that you shake things up. There can also be a feeling of wanting to prove that you’re more than the assumptions people make about you.

Focus on friendships and community that truly respect you for who you are beyond any projections. Not everyone will misunderstand you, and it’s okay to be selective with who you surround yourself with. Work on reinforcing your boundaries so that you aren’t constantly put in unfair situations.

♓ Lilith in the 12th House Pisces

This is one of the most hidden yet potent Lilith placements. You might not always be overtly sexualized in obvious ways, but there’s a deep, underlying energy that people pick up on. There can be projections placed upon you without you even realizing it, often behind closed doors or in secret conversations. Some may find you irresistibly mysterious or even dangerous without a clear reason why. Your presence lingers in people’s subconscious, sometimes making them uncomfortable.

This placement makes me think of someone who unknowingly impacts others on a psychological level. People might develop secret infatuations or fixate on you in ways that even you don’t fully grasp. It’s like you move through life feeling somewhat unseen, yet somehow, you’re always affecting people on a level beyond your awareness. People may make assumptions about you without real evidence, particularly in environments like hospitals, institutions, or spiritual communities where secrecy or hidden power is involved.

You might struggle with feeling misunderstood in ways that don’t make sense to you. You could go through experiences of being scapegoated, vilified, or treated as if you’re carrying some sort of “forbidden” energy. People may want to project their desires onto you in secret, which can feel invasive or confusing, especially if you don't know where these emotions are coming from.

Some with this placement retreat into isolation, feeling like it’s safer to remain unseen than to deal with others’ projections. Others might unknowingly fall into roles that confirm what people already assume about them, even if it wasn’t their intent. The struggle here is often about untangling other people’s hidden expectations and seeing yourself clearly.

Find ways to ground yourself in your own sense of identity, separate from what others secretly think or expect of you. Therapy, dream journaling, and shadow work can be powerful tools for unraveling hidden fears or subconscious influences in your life. Recognizing when you’re being scapegoated or unfairly projected upon is crucial, and learning to set firm energetic boundaries will protect your peace.

Do any of these descriptions resonate with you? I’d love to hear about your experiences, especially if you have Lilith in the 5th or 7th house—those are placements I don’t personally have much insight into, so feel free to share your thoughts!

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul

in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post. part 2 | other bts members

➺ bitchin - by @kinktae

summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien

summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton

summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts

summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts

summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces

➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie

summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.

➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons

summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

➺ changes in between - by @taegularities

summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie

summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.

➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild

summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae

summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.

➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash

summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.

➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates

summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

[lilislegacy]

i love how in heroes of olympus, there’s a boat full of couples (+leo☺️). and yet even if you didn’t know when each couple started dating, it’s so blatantly obvious that percy and annabeth have been together the longest, and are the most serious

cause frank and hazel are still pretty nervous/unsure with each other. they JUST started dating, and are so pure and adorable. they just haven’t quite figured out the romance part yet

and jason and piper have their moments, but they’re just so… distant. like not physically, of course, but they just don’t really seem to connect on a deep level. and they aren’t super affectionate, at least not physically or openly. piper is constantly unsure about where they’re at, and while jason has thoughts about how great piper is, he doesn’t openly show his feelings too often.

but percabeth? they’re the oldest in age (physically), have known each other the longest, and have been romantically committed to each other for the most time. they act like they’ve been together for eternity, which is funny since they were technically only dating for 4 months before percy got abducted. but they just have such a deep history together and such an intense connection. they’re in it for the long run. there’s no doubt or uncertainty - and it shows. like…annabeth is so wife girlfriend. there are so many funny/cute little moments, like her scolding him for putting too much syrup on his pancakes, and telling him to take a shower when he smells bad. and when percy suggests him and jason should go on a dangerous quest instead of annabeth and piper, instead of being like “omg he cares so much about me😍” (which hazel and piper would have done) annabeth is like “what seaweed brain?? you think two guys can do better than two girls??” and percy is immediately like “uh uh NO nope i definitely do NOT think that!!” he knows better. the immediate fear is so husband boyfriend of him. they simultaneously have the most disagreements (remember when percy called annabeth out when she thought she should navigate through rome alone, and basically called her stupid for thinking it was a good idea, and then they argued and had a face-off, which percy won) - while also being the most lovey dovey (they’re constantly putting their hands on each other - annabeth putting her hand on his chest to calm him down, putting their hands on each other’s arms for support, percy having his arm around her when they’re at the edge of the ship, always giving each other a kiss on the mouth or the cheek when they separate, etc). and they have no issues sneaking off in the middle of the night to do some talking and kissing. and quite frankly, making out in front of piper in BoO (remember that? when piper got super uncomfortable at how long their kiss was lasting, and then annabeth let out, and i quote, “grunt-whimpers”). they are just so natural and comfortable with each other. piper says it herself.

i just think it’s so funny. little frazel being adorable and blushing when they hold hands, jiper is happy to be dating but they’re also a little angsty and uncertain, and then there’s percabeth just being the old married couple they are. (and leo is being cute and fixing stuff)

[prongsx]

we are not children anymore, honey.

warning: swearing, a bit insinuating, f!reader, fluff.

where jason needs to remind you that you're not kids anymore and teasing him isn't the same anymore.

1,8k words

You met Jason Todd when you were both innocent children, well, as innocent as the crime alley allowed. He was your best friend, most of the scars he had back then were from picking fights with anyone who raised their voice at you, anyone who tried to sell you drugs or tried to be aggressive with you.

You had an easy body language, both of you touched each other often and played the usual games that children do, physical touch was never a distant thing.

You secretly had a crush on that somewhat reckless and smiling boy who protected you, always holding your hand. Maybe in the back of your mind you thought that one day you would get married.

At the time, he was a little shorter than you, a fact that deeply irritated him but made you laugh. Then he was adopted by Bruce Wayne and you thought that would be the end of your friendship, but there seemed to be a thread that connected you, not even taking on the mantle of Robin could separate you.

Then Jason was taken from you in the most abrupt way possible, by the hands of death itself. But not even that which seemed inescapable separated you for long, the grief that consumed you could have destroyed you, but something in your mind repeated that Jason would never leave you alone.

When Jason appeared at your door, years later, his blue eyes looking haunted, you cried, something in your heart that was dead seemed to come out of the ground in the same way as your best friend.

At first, you simply didn't know what to do with this new Jason, he himself seemed a little lost, the well had affected his emotions. He took up more space, his arms and hands were bigger. Doubts consumed you, afraid of never rescuing the old bond, but then you bought your old favorite cookie and he smiled at you.

That dimpled smile, which lit up his blue eyes and seemed to bring a reckless air to him. And you decided right then and there that nothing would stop you from being his best friend again.

The thing was that your friendship was based on a time when you were both younger and more naive, feelings were simpler. Jason died before you could be friends during that strange time in your adolescence when touching your friend seemed strange, the only memory your body had of your friendship with Jason was a sticky friendship.

"Only you could make me go to the other side of town to get that damn donut that tasted like paper." Jason grumbles, closing the latch on your window as he moves his huge body into your living room. At that moment, you feel the room shrink, and it feels like any false move will betray your racing heart as you watch Jason remove his helmet, his black curls messy in a cute way.

"They're great." You hum, reaching out to take the package from Jason.

"Seriously, there are so many bakeries with better donuts." He retorts, crossing his arms, drawing your attention to the outline of his biceps in his skintight uniform.

"The best isn't always going to be the tastiest."

Jason rolls his eyes at your completely nonsensical choice of words, flopping his tired body on the couch next to you.

"Jason, did you just sit on my couch in your dirty patrol gear?"

"Sweetie, I just walked halfway through this shitty city looking for that donut. I have a right to dirty your precious couch."

You let out a grunt, knowing he's right. He has the right, but that doesn't stop you from lightly pinching the side of his hip, where his suit had a layer of fabric.

He doesn't even blink at your attitude, his hands holding your wrist, his long fingers holding it as delicately as was allowed.

"I thought you gave up trying to play fight with me," he whispers, his voice heavy with that accent that makes your legs a little weak.

You shrug, your body approaching him almost as a reflex, your knee touching his. It's kind of annoying how much bigger he's gotten than you, and stronger. Much stronger, you know he could flip you over with a single hand and honestly the thought is more exciting than you want to admit.

"Sweet thing?" He calls to you, still with that sly smile on his lips. You blink slowly, coming back to reality.

"Hmm?"

"Aren't you going to eat your delicious donut?"

"Yes. Yes." You say, nodding.

If before you thought Jason was cute, now you could write ridiculous poems about him, two stanzas just about his sapphire eyes.

He snuggled deeper into your couch, spreading his thighs and letting out a sigh of relief at the comfort.

"Tiring patrol?" He opened his eyes when he felt your hands lightly pinching his nose, trying to make him pay attention to you again. You would never admit it out loud, but having Jason's undivided attention was kind of addictive and intoxicating.

"You could say that."

You dropped the donuts on the living room table, suddenly feeling guilty. Even though it was just him teasing you, the store that sold your favorite donuts was really far away.

"I'm sorry I made you take my stupid donuts." He let out a breath when you rested your chin on his shoulder, staring at him from under your eyelashes.

"No. I don't forgive you." He teased, his hands going down to your waist and drawing circles there.

"Seriously, I was selfish." You repeat, looking down at the red bat symbol on his chest.

His blue eyes continued to stare at you, his hands coming up and lightly holding your chin, his eyebrows furrowed. Jason never accepted it when you seemed sad towards him, or when you made it seem like you were a hindrance in his life.

"Stop that shit."

A laugh escaped through your nostrils.

"You still have such a dirty mouth, Todd. My mother still blames you for the variety of curses I know."

He laughed, the sound going straight to your stomach. It should be forbidden for someone to have such a delightful laugh to hear. Jason wasn't as much of a laugh now as he used to be when he was a child, his innocence had been taken away from him years ago, so you drank every drop of his laughter you could.

"Well, I blame you every time I act stupid. We're even."

You reached your hands up to his hair and pulled lightly, like you used to do when you wanted to get back at him when you were kids. But this time, he didn't laugh you away or flick you in retaliation. His lips curved into a thin line and his eyes blinked so fast you thought you'd imagined it.

"Sweetie." Jason's voice was low, the nickname sending an electric shock through your body. "We're not kids anymore."

"You're still just as annoying." You joked, praying he wouldn't notice the slight crack in your voice.

"No, sweet thing, you didn't understand what I meant." He said, his blue eyes staring straight into your face. His hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him, your legs almost resting on his thigh. "I'm saying we're not kids anymore." He repeated.

"Yes. I obviously know that."

He let out a long sigh, as if you were irritating him with your stupidity.

His slightly chapped lips parted as he said something that you were momentarily lost in, your hands resting on his muscular thigh. He gripped your chin tighter when he noticed your inattention and felt your hand on his thigh.

"See? That's what I'm saying." He let out a laugh that wasn't like before, it wasn't genuine and open-hearted, it was low and had a feeling you couldn't quite grasp. "You keep touching me and teasing me like we're children."

"I can stop." You stammered, very confused and feeling a little dizzy. This new Jason Todd, with more scars and less shyness, was making your throat suddenly close up.

"You're not supposed to stop." He whispered, his other hand coming back to grab the back of your neck and pull your faces so close you could feel his warm breath. "Just letting you know that now, when you lie on top of me and stare at me like that, my first thought isn't to play fight with you, darling." His hand squeezed your chin lightly as he added, his voice lower, "When you stare at me like that, all I think about is kissing you stupid."

Forming words seemed harder than ever.

"Ah."

"Ah," he mimicked you in a thin voice, a goofy smile on his face, his grip on your chin bringing your lips close to his. "I say I want to make you sigh my name and that's all you have to say?"

You clear your throat, your eyelashes fluttering slightly. The hand resting on his thigh makes an involuntary movement to lightly squeeze the muscle there. Jason's blue eyes darken, a noise close to a growl leaving his lips.

"You keep doing these things. Fuck, baby, every time you almost climb on my lap like it's nothing." He took a deep breath, as if he was losing his mind, closing his eyes so as not to get lost in his own thoughts. "You must know what you're doing to me."

"No. I. No." You repeated, still very overwhelmed by how close you were. Your best friend, staring at you like he was about to destroy you.

He smiled again at your mental confusion, brushing his lips against yours and letting out a low moan that made you gasp. "Let me kiss you, please?"

You nodded, crashing your lips against his before you had to beg for it. Jason's lips were rough against yours, as if he was punishing you for making him wait, for making him yearn for this.

Jason's ability to focus on multitasking was evident when he pulled you to sit fully on his lap, without separating your lips, his hands moving up and down your body, swallowing the small moans that came out of your mouth.

"I think I've already thought of a way for you to pay for your stupid donuts," he whispered, pulling your lips away for a few seconds to smile at you.

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in years. Your hands cupped his face, caressing his cheek. There were so many questions and doubts swirling around your mind, but Jason pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

"Honey, it took you a long time to realize that you're mine. Just relax."

You blinked away the tears, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, a genuine smile on your lips.

Your best friend was in love with you too, and everything would be okay.

I hope you liked it, sorry for the mistakes, I need to review all my works. My epub box is open, I just want to write more for Jason!! I'm stupid for him. And I'll be dying on the hill that Jason Todd has a dirty mouth. I'm trying to write for a gender-neutral reader but I've discovered that I have difficulty, I'm sorry, but I'll keep trying.

[terrainofheartfelt]

Do you have any friends that annoy the crap out of you? And if so how have you handled it? Just slowly stopped answering their messages?

my dear I need to preface this by saying that as much as I share of myself on here, I’m still just a stranger on the internet, and I don’t know you or your situation

But from your phrasing I’m wondering, if a person is annoying the crap out of you in a regular basis, are they really your friend? Are you really theirs?

I guess I’ve had what you may call proximity friends, in that we met because of school or work and when one of us left those places that friendship fell away. And the friendships I wanted to keep I put in effort to keeping them, and those people reciprocated, and my life is better for having them in it.

I guess then my advice is nothing lasts forever and that can be a good thing. I’m also very much a believer in If It Sucks, Hit Da Bricks! of course that doesn’t mean cut out anyone and everyone who wrongs you, but it’s up to you to decide what you can take, and you can have compassion for people without wanting to be in their life anymore

[justpeaxchy]

'Why not me?'

Warnings: Jealousy, a "little" misunderstanding between Hiccup and reader.

A/n: !Fem reader! I recommend reading this as a part two to this short writing I did, but either way it can be read on its own! This was originally intended as a separate work but here we are ig lol.

Hiccup's eyes followed your figure once more, watching as you hauled more wood for another house that was "accidentally" burned down again. The report came rather quickly that the Twins had performed another prank and it somehow led to a "small" devastation, as they called it, on a viking's innocent home. You called for Astrid again, who was managing Stormfly as she carefully placed down the pieces needed for the home to repair it, and gestured to the new pile of wood that lay on the ground. She nodded and went back to her work with a glare sent towards the two twins who merely stood next to the burnt heap, giggling among themselves.

He wouldn't admit it, but Hiccup had been noticing more of Berk starting to flock around you as they had finally seen the two of you spend more time together. It brought a certain emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint. For one, most of them only started talking to you since they recognized you as someone now "close" to the Chief. On the other hand, they only wanted to get closer with you because of your connection. Everyone knew Hiccup on Berk, so he was puzzled - and a tad bit angry - that a good portion of them acted as though you never even existed and he was someone on a higher pedestal because of the position handed down to him.

Of course, on the outside, it looked as though they were treating him as normally as they would've before - with the due respect for a Chief - but Hiccup noticed the slight difference, especially with you. He didn't know if you did though. It bothered him in a way he couldn't vocalize it, unusually so. He had barely begun developing his relationship with you, taking the small steps you needed; the ones he was more than willing to take.

So, when these people decided to come in and sneak their way down the path he treaded with you - it made him upset him in more ways than one. He even heard Snotlout ogle over you at one point. He had heard his fanatics before but, for some strange reason, it brought him to the conclusion of physically pushing him out of the Forge where he was trying to gather his thoughts in peace.

Hiccup fumbled with the charcoal pencil in his hand, trying to drown out the noise around him that was the daily turmoil of vikings. He told himself to stay focused on the sketch someone had wanted for a new saddle before handing it off to Gobber - that was supposed to be the plan. His idea of having himself under control for the day were seemingly forgotten as he managed to steal a swift glance in your direction.

Out of everything, Hiccup Haddock did not expect for himself to act up when someone offered to help take the load of wood out of your arms. Perhaps he would've felt better if it wasn't Eret son of Eret who had willingly taken it out of your arms. Hiccup knew he wasn't losing his eyesight when he had seen Eret's hands lightly brush yours when he took the burden of wood out of your hands. It puzzled the Chief as to why he was even feeling this way.

Hiccup wasn't blind or numb to the fact that Eret, ever since he arrived at Berk, was known for his physique and his striking appearance. As well as being a dragon trapper in the past, of course. Sudden thoughts came to Hiccup's mind as he watched the short interaction between you two, not understanding the emotion that gripped his heart when he had seen your smile to the man who offered you his help. He knew that you were getting used to smiling more - he was the one who told you to try it out more - but he pondered over the question in his head that wouldn't leave him alone: Why did it take you longer to smile at him like that?

As if Hiccup's body moved on its own, he called for Toothless, who had been resting by his side in the Forge, and stomped his way to your direction. You were busy directing Astrid for where she should place the wood on top of the house just in case she missed a spot or didn't put it down correctly. You hadn't expected for a hand to grab yours, with such urgency and yet clothed with a gentle tug, to pull you away from the task you were occupied with. "Hey! What is this-"

Your words were interrupted as you caught Hiccup pulling you closer to his side as he called out for the Twins, "Ruff, Tuff! You're going to be the ones to handle this. It was your doing and the least you could do is tell Astrid where to go from here, okay?" He gave them no time for a proper response, other than the annoyed grumbling that came, as he led you beside Toothless. Confusion clouded your mind as your eyes followed him hauling himself on the night fury and reach out his hand for yours as if telling you to do the same.

"Hiccup, you know I have my own dragon, right-" He swiftly grabbed your hand that was slowly reaching out for his in the middle of your speech as he remained silent, "And I guess that doesn't matter because-" Your startled scream soon took over as Toothless shot into the air without warning, causing you to cling onto Hiccup with all of your strength you could possibly muster. It made you question how he could so easily ride the night fury - being that they were known to be the fastest dragon alive. "H-hey! Where are we going?"

Hiccup lightly patted your hand that was settled on his waist, his gaze not moving from the scenery around him. "Just wait a bit, you'll see." He muttered something to Toothless that you couldn't catch due to the high speeds of wind blowing across your face, making you even more nervous. You trusted Hiccup, of course, but sometimes it was obvious that the 'odd' side of himself could get a little carried away. So, you did the only thing you could do in that moment: hold on as tightly as you could as Toothless dived into a deeper part of the woods.

--------------------------------------------

"Ah, so this is where you found him." Your legs shakily wobbled off of the night fury who cooed at your ruffled form. Your hair wasn't as neat as you had it before, making you slightly annoyed before turning to Hiccup. "So.. why bring me here?" You carefully inspected him as he hopped off Toothless, much more better than you had, and nervously swing his arms as he normally did in a situation that left him feeling awkward or anxious.

"Why? Oh, you know - just - wanted to spend some time with you. I mean, do you want to spend time with me? Because you don't have to if-" He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke when he noticed you rolling your eyes at his statement.

"Hiccup, it's too late for me to go back now. You practically dragged me out here on the back of a dragon and I would much rather fly back to Berk than walk." You knew it wasn't a far ways off, but you didn't entirely feel like going all the way back when your legs were recovering from being shot into the air so quickly, "Also, you didn't really give me much of a choice."

You gazed at his hands that seemingly didn't know what do at the moment, hesitating at the thought of grabbing them. "Yeah, I realize that now. That's my fault, sorry." Hiccup muttered out the phrase as if he had been caught doing a scandalous act before stepping closer to you as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I just-" He paused, inhaling as he considered his next words, "I just happen to notice that you've been more.." Another pause; "Occupied with the work load that's been piling up on you recently."

Hiccup inwardly cringed at his reasonings, knowing that it wasn't a good enough excuse as you narrowed your eyes. "Yes? I mean, what do you want me to do? Sit around all day and hope I make some coins by doing nothing?" You sighed and carefully took a step closer to him, the distance between you two slightly bothering you. "I don't want to be like I was before; standing around and barely getting by because of the leftover chores Berk left for me."

Your eyes never left him as he continued to settle on looking at the ground. "Anyway, aren't you the Chief? Shouldn't I be the one saying this to you? I know you've probably got a lot on your shoulders too, not just me." You tried lightening up the mood as Hiccup gently shook his head, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips before it faded once more.

"I know it sounds stupid." He exhaled, as if trying to breathe away the thing that was bothering him, "I'm sorry, but don't you think people should... I don't know.." He shrugged his shoulders, trying to play his next words off casually, "Give you more personal space..?" Hiccup took the risk and glanced up to see your reaction, which wasn't what he expected.

You snorted, then giggled, then covered your mouth as laughter consumed you, watching the way Hiccup's gaze falter slightly as he took in the sight. "What? Personal space?" You tried your best to grasp in what little air you could as your laughter rang throughout the small cove you two were in. "What're you getting at, Hiccup?" A sudden thought came to mind as you smirked, taking another step closer to the Chief; the nervousness that threatened you earlier having been disappeared. "I hope you're not forgetting when I asked for my own personal space when you came and decided to visit me almost every single day."

Hiccup groaned and rubbed his face, as though a headache were arising. "You know it's not like that! That's not what I meant-" He struggled to speak coherently when your small doses of laughter filled his ears. "Do you like the attention or something? I mean, when Eret touched your hand you seemed pretty okay with it to me." The realization of what he said had finally came to Hiccup before he quickly waved his hands, noticing your smile dim away, "Wait! That's not what I meant-"

"Okay, Hiccup. What're you really getting at? You should know me enough that I won't go out of my way to get the attention of people that I wouldn't want to talk to." You huffed, slightly hurt at the idea that crossed Hiccup's mind. "And I didn't ask for Eret to help me, he was just kind enough to take that load of wood from me - which was very heavy by the way." You crossed your arms, stubbornly taking a step away from him as he decided to take two more steps closer.

"I'm sorry, that was my fault - again - but I didn't mean it in that way. I know that is the complete opposite of who you are, but I-" Hiccup sighed, forcing himself to see what was actually wrong with him. "I think I'm not used to all of these people coming in and talking with you and working with you like they've been friends with you since birth. I guess I got used to-"

Hiccup managed to catch himself before uttering anything else, causing you to questioningly narrow your eyes at him. "Got used to what, Chief?" You held back another burst of laughter at the flustered state of the man before you, watching with intent eyes every gesture he made with his hands.

"N-nevermind. How about we go back and I'll let you work in peace and I won't bother you about it anymore." He reached out for your arm as he began to pull you towards Toothless. "C'mon, here we go-" Hiccup winced as you suddenly maneuvered his hand off your arm with a twist, causing him to let go of your arm as he spun around. "Why would you do that?"

You grinned, the atmosphere from earlier forgotten as you dusted yourself off from imaginary dirt. "Tell me what you were going to say." When he tried to escape the situation with more rambling you cracked your fingers, intimidatingly stepping forward, "Say it."

Hiccup kicked the ground like a toddler as he shook his head. "You're so stubborn.." He barely managed to see your hand getting closer to his ear as you threatened to pinch them before he stepped to the side, potentially saving himself from even more pain. "Alright, alright! Just don't get the ears!" He protectively covered the sides of his face as you triumphantly grinned, awaiting his answer.

"Look, I guess I got used to.." He found himself looking at the ground once more as he spoke. "Having you more to myself." He purposefully mumbled the last bit of his speech, hoping he could somehow get away with it. Much to his despair, however, you still listened to every word.

He heard your footsteps approaching to where he stood and he glanced up to see a delicate smile taking over your features before your hand reached out for his. You held it as if you were handling a precious piece of glass, carefully lifting it away from his side. "Is that really what you think?" Your eyes held a sincerity to them that Hiccup couldn't ignore, making his heart beat slightly faster than before.

When all he could do was nod, you finally took it upon yourself to be the one to hug him first - which you gladly did the moment he gave you his answer. You found yourself smiling into his shoulder as he stood still in his spot for a moment. "Hiccup, just know I'll never be able to look at them in the way I view you. They can't replace what you did, no matter how hard they might try."

When you felt his arms embrace you in return, you couldn't help but let the smile on your face continue to grow as he sighed, his breath fanning your neck in - what sounded like - relief. "Are you upset with me?"

"Not anymore. Maybe if you gave me a kiss I'd be over the moon. But, hey, that's just me." You chuckled when you heard nothing but silence come from him, assuming he was too much in a flustered state to respond.

You squeezed him one final time before letting him go. The weight of your words hadn't settled in until you stepped away from him, causing you to fumble with your hair. "So, we should - probably - uhm, head back -"

Hiccup, noticing your actions, nodded once more before swiftly taking your hand in his as he lead you both back to Toothless. You told yourself not to be consumed with the fluttering of your heart by his simple move, but it became much more of a challenge when he stopped in front of his dragon to face you.

"One more thing before we go." Hiccup pulled you closer to him by your hand he had grabbed, officially closing any remaining distance between you both as his lips met yours. You didn't expect it, which caused you to nearly trip on your own feet before his other arm caught you, still engaged in the kiss as though it had never happened. If you weren't imagining things, you could've sworn you felt him smile in the midst of it all.

You were breathless as he, unfortunately, pulled away from you, gazing intently at your flustered form before guiding you onto Toothless. "So, you're definitely not angry now, right?"

You rolled your eyes as Hiccup readied himself on Toothless, glancing back at you for an answer. "I already said I wasn't..." You folded your arms, making yourself now look like the toddler as he snickered and turned forward.

"Well, you might want to hang on." He gleefully muttered something to Toothless as you stubbornly held your position, which was not hanging onto him at all. When he came to the conclusion that you were rather grumpily not obliging to him, he tapped his dragon to silently tell him to leave.

It was only when Toothless had darted up in the air that you screamed and tightly held onto Hiccup for your dear life, which he quite enjoyed.

[ultred]

10 things i did that made me a better manifestor.

one. i let go of logic because life itself is not logical. even the physical world. (3d) we live on a flying rock stuffed with magma with an ocean we barely know anything of around a giant ball of plasma with other floating rocks in a galaxy within another galaxies within a universe and apparently we are the only living beings we know of so far in an infinite universe where time doesn’t really exist. oh, and our flying rock has another flying rock that orbits it and all of this is held together by gravity. does that sound logical to you ?

two. when i want something, i give it to myself in imagination as if it is already happening/already happened. i experience my desire in my imagination. i don’t care anymore about the 3d and i don’t wait for it to validate me. i validate myself.

three. i manifested small things first. i would put my awareness on things that i don’t really care about or stuff i’d like ‘cause why not and would instantly manifest them. i kept finding ways to prove to my “ego” that the law is real and now it shuts up more often.

four. i stopped listening to music, films, content, and tv shows that impact my mood negatively. this might not be the same for everyone but i noticed that the songs i continuously listen to heavily impact my mood and put my awareness on things i don’t want to manifest. same with the other media. however, i still acknowledge that i’m fully in control now. just when i started, i preferred to distance myself from them.

five. i listened to neville goddard’s books as i fell asleep. (i did it once and woke up feeling and thinking completely differently for some reason. even some of my manifestations happened while listening)

six. what worked, worked and i stopped overcomplicating it. so many manifestation “techniques” worked for me especially subliminals, affirmations, scripting, and visualization ! i didn’t keep searching for other techniques. these worked so i just continued doing them and that’s it.

seven. i used my stubbornness in my favor. i am a really stubborn person and i decided to use that in a way that benefits me instead of whining about being stubborn about stuff that aren’t in my favor.

eight. i fully acknowledged that everyone is me pushed out and tested it. eiypo is 100% real and it doesn’t matter what anyone says because no one has free will in your own reality and if you focus enough, you’ll see it.

nine. i stopped trying. i stopped being the person who puts too much effort into anything. my relationship, my friendships, my connection to others, finding a job, getting money, etc. etc. i just assume that i have what i want and that’s it. i don’t want to be the person who does everything and puts all the effort anymore.

ten. 3d and 4d are the same. practicing non-dualism has helped me a lot in manifesting. 3d and 4d are the same. there is no separation. everything is you and you are everything. that’s it.

[vunblr]

Toy Soldier (part 5)

Bit by bit, torn apart. We never win, but the battle wages on for toy soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Tags and Warnings: 18+ only. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Smut. Canon-Typical Violence. Dark Content: Sexual Assault Wounds (Bucky). Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con (both characters as victims).

Summary: She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.

Word Count: 7.3k

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

The next day, she messaged Sam, asking if he could stop by her house before the briefing. His reply came quickly, surprised but agreeable, suggesting a time two hours before the meeting. When the knock finally came, she took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever reaction he might have.

She opened the door to his familiar, easy smile, but the knot in her stomach didn’t ease. “Hey,” he greeted casually, stepping inside when she gestured for him to come in. “This feels serious. What’s up?”

She led him to the couch, motioning for him to sit. Her palms were clammy, and her fingers twitched slightly as she sat across from him. “It is,” she admitted, “And... I need you to hear me out before you say anything.”

That wiped the smile from his face. Sam leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely between his knees. “Okay. I’m listening.”

She inhaled deeply, and then, she started. From her life before Hydra -her simple, ordinary life in the 60s- to the day everything changed. The kidnapping. The endless, suffocating years as a prisoner, a tool. Her voice faltered as she described the barest surface of what she’d endured and what she’d been forced to do regarding the Winter Soldier. She tried to keep the focus on herself, omitting the details that might betray Bucky’s privacy, but it was impossible to completely separate their pasts.

Sam listened without interrupting, his expression shifted with every new revelation: concern, disbelief, pity, before being replaced with something softer. Compassion.

When she finished, she let out a shuddering breath, slumping her shoulders. “I’m sorry I never told you anything about... this. For giving you my manufactured past. For lying to you about who I am.”

He shook his head immediately. “Don’t apologize for that. It’s your story, and it’s yours to share whenever you’re ready. Or not at all. I get why you didn’t say anything. Hell, I can even understand why the government kept it locked up.” His gaze softened, leaning back slightly. “But it doesn’t change a damn thing. I never doubted our friendship. Not for a second.”

Relief bloomed in her chest at his words. She managed a small smile, twisting her fingers nervously in her lap. “Thank you, Sammy”.

Sam nodded, and then his expression grew thoughtful. “So... that’s why Bucky knew you couldn’t heal yourself?”

“Yeah.” She gave a short, almost bitter laugh. “The information was never given by Hydra to him, but there were... moments. Times when he saw me.” Her eyes drifted downward. “And I guess he connected the dots. If I could heal myself, why would I walk around for days with a bruised lip, or limping?”

Sam exhaled slowly, his brow furrowing. “Damn.”

She nodded, tightening her hands together. “Yeah.”

“And... I didn’t tell you this either,” she hesitated, twisting her fingers in her lap. “Bucky and I... we’ve been seeing each other. After Poland.”

Sam’s brow quirked, a small, curious smile tugging at his lips. “Oh?”

She exhaled, searching for the right words. “Just... reconnecting. Or connecting. I don’t know exactly what to call it yet. Our relationship -if you can even call it that- back then didn’t precisely involve normal conversation over coffee.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. “So, the Winter Sulkier talks to you over coffee?”

That drew a chuckle from her lips, lightening the tension in the air. “Yeah. I mean, he’s more of a listener most of the time, but yeah, he talks.”

Sam’s smile softened as he observed her, but she dropped her gaze to her hands again, and her expression turned more serious. “Thing is... he was here yesterday when you called me about the mission. And when I mentioned Argentina and a large crew heading there...” She paused, tightening her fingers together. “He got all worked up. I think he intuits there’s something to do with them.”

Sam’s expression darkened, and his easy demeanor faded. He shook his head slowly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “He isn’t wrong.”

Her chest tightened at the confirmation, but she continued. “He left immediately after that. Told me to talk to you about... us.” She hesitated, then added, “And, that he’s coming.”

Sam let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. “Of course he did.”

“I tried to tell him it wasn’t his decision to make,” she said quickly, “But…”

“-there’s no stopping him,” Sam finished with a faint shake of his head, a flicker of exasperation in his tone. “Yeah, I know.”

----

Sam drove them to the briefing at the DHS Strategic Operations Center, a heavily-secured government facility that handled covert international assignments. The building loomed large, with its sleek gray façade and high-security checkpoints manned by armed guards.

To her surprise -or not-, when they entered the briefing room, Bucky was already there, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed. He looked calm, but the tension in his posture told her otherwise.

Sam quirked a brow at him, gesturing vaguely toward the entrance. “How the hell did you get in here?”

Bucky just stared at him in response, with an unreadable expression.

“Seriously, man,” Sam pressed, muttering something under his breath, shaking his head as he took a seat. She, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smile faintly at him, though the knot of worry in her stomach hadn’t eased.

The room began to fill with agents and operatives, and a few heads turned toward Bucky, with flashing recognition across their faces. It was clear that having both the Winter Soldier and the Falcon in the operation was a major bonus for the mission and a point of fascination for everyone in the room.

She slid into a chair beside Sam, sneaking a glance at Bucky, who had claimed a spot near the corner of the table. He caught her eye briefly, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between them.

“Looks like the government’s thrilled to have their star players,” she murmured under her breath to Sam.

----

The room fell silent as the operation leader stood at the head of the table, pointing to a digital map of Ushuaia Province projected on the wall. “As suspected, there’s an active Hydra facility in the region. Thanks to intel provided by Argentina’s military forces, we’ve identified its exact location. It’s heavily fortified, with multiple levels of security and a significant number of personnel. Resistance is expected to be strong, and casualties are a possibility.”

The words hung heavy and foreboding between the crew.

“As we continue,” the leader said, turning toward her, “your role is crucial. Due to the expected resistance, we need you on the field, embedded with a group of agents. Your abilities may be needed in the heat of the fight. Even some casualties won’t be avoidable, your presence could make the difference between life and death for many of our operatives.”

Bucky’s body tensed immediately, snapping his sharp gaze to the leader. He didn’t wait to be addressed, didn’t wait for permission to speak. “No,” he said firmly, his voice cut through the room like a blade. “I don’t agree.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Excuse me?”

Bucky straightened from his spot, squaring his broad shoulders. “Sending her into a live combat zone? With Hydra? It’s a mistake. She doesn’t belong on the front lines, she belongs somewhere safe. She can work from a plane or a secure location if you need her. Putting her directly in danger is reckless.”

She could feel the weight of his words pressing against her like a physical force, but her focus was on the leader, not him.

“Barnes,” the leader started, “with all due respect, this isn’t your call-”

“No, but it’s common sense,” Bucky cut in, hardening his voice. “If things go south, she’s the one they’ll target first. Do you really think they wouldn’t recognize her? That they wouldn’t know what she can do and what she’s worth to them?”

Her heart clenched at the words, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stood, scraping her chair softly against the floor as she rose to her feet.

“Enough,” she said sharply, interrupting him.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and his gaze snapped to her, but she didn’t look at him. Her eyes were locked on the operation leader, unwavering and resolute.

“I’m in,” she said firmly.

“You don’t-” Bucky’s voice carried a mix of frustration and concern, but she turned to him before he could say more.

“I said I’m in, Bucky,” she repeated, in a softer tone this time but no less determined. “This is my choice.”

The room was silent again, the tension thick in the air as the leader gave her a small nod. “Good. Then we’ll move forward as planned.”

Bucky’s hands flexed into fists at his sides, but he said nothing more. She could feel his eyes on her, the weight of his disapproval and concern, but she didn’t falter.

This was her fight too. And she wouldn’t let anyone -not even him- take that from her.

The operation leader continued detailing the roles while pointing to the screen. “Barnes, your job is to breach and clear one of the facility’s entrances. You’ll be working with a tactical unit to infiltrate and eliminate the immediate threats on the perimeter.”

Bucky crossed his arms, flexing a muscle in his jaw. “I’ll go with her team.”

The room collectively turned to look at him, as the team leader narrowed his eyes in displeasure. “That’s not your assignment.”

“Well, I’m making it mine,” Bucky said, sharp and unwavering.

Sam let out a low scoff, raising a brow at his partner. “You’re just great at following orders.”

Bucky shot him a sidelong glare but ignored the jab, turning back his attention to the leader. “Let’s be honest,” he said, his tone bordering on cocky. “I’m the best asset you’ve got going in there. If she’s on the field, it makes sense for me to stay close. She makes sure I keep going, and I’m the one who can get her out in one piece.”

The leader leaned forward slightly, clearly distressed by the audacity. His hands fell flat on the table. “You’re overestimating your authority here, Barnes. This isn’t a solo mission.”

“I’m not saying it is,” Bucky replied “But if something goes wrong, I’d rather she have me at her back than anyone else.”

Another agent, seated further down the table, cleared their throat. “With all due respect, Sergeant Barnes, you’re probably not the one who’d need her help. You’re a super soldier. You’ve got advanced healing, stamina, and the works. If she’s in the field, she’ll be more useful to the non-enhanced units who’ll be taking the brunt of the fight.”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue but stopped short. He knew she was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He didn’t need her assistance. He wanted her nearby for reasons that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the protectiveness that burned in his chest.

His jaw tightened again, but he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, forcing himself to back down. “Fine,” he muttered, though the word sounded like it was dragged out of him.

The operation leader’s gaze lingered on Bucky for a moment longer before he turned back to the room. “Then it’s settled. Everyone knows their roles. We leave in three days. Dismissed.”

As chairs scraped and the room began to clear, Sam caught up to Bucky near the door. “So, what’s the plan now, guard dog? Gonna give her a tracking device or a leash?”

Bucky shot him a look that could kill. “Not now.”

Sam grinned, unbothered. “Just saying, man. You’re not as subtle as you think.”

Bucky ignored him, drifting his gaze to where she stood by the table, gathering her things. She glanced up, catching his eye, and offered a small, reassuring smile.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He might not be able to stay by her side during the mission, but one way or another, he’d make sure she came out of it safe. Even if it killed him.

----

They didn’t see each other again until they boarded the plane. She spotted him immediately, seated at the far side of the hold, inspecting one of his many weapons with mechanical precision.

Bucky was fully geared up, every inch of him screaming Winter Soldier in a way that made her chest tighten uncomfortably. His tactical suit, dark and imposing, seemed like it was made to swallow him whole, to erase every ounce of humanity she knew was there. Knives, pistols, ammo, -there were more weapons strapped to him than she thought possible-, and Sam, seated nearby, muttered under his breath as he caught sight of him.

“Jesus, Buck,” he quipped, leaning back in his seat with an incredulous look. “Where do you keep all that? Got a secret pocket dimension you haven’t told us about?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He didn’t even glance up, focused on the rifle in his hands as he loaded it with a meticulousness that bordered on obsession.

She hesitated before sitting down, diagonal to his, close enough to see the taut lines of his jaw and the cold set of his features. He was somewhere else entirely, locked inside his head in a way that made her stomach twist.

Her fingers tapped lightly on her knee as she debated. Eventually, she mustered the courage to try and break through the wall he had so obviously put up. “Bucky,” she started softly, testing the waters.

He didn’t look at her. “What?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said curtly and dismissive.

She tried again, leaning forward slightly, lacing her tone with a touch of warmth this time. “You’ve been quiet since the briefing. I just... wanted to check in.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said flatly. He finally looked up, but it was brief, just a glance before he turned back to the rifle.

She bit the inside of her cheek, and the pang of melancholy deepened. He was shutting her out, retreating into himself in a way that felt impenetrable. She wanted to say something more, to push through the wall he’d built around himself, but every clipped answer was like a door slammed in her face.

Eventually, she leaned back in her seat, slumping her shoulders slightly. Sam, catching the shift in her demeanor, leaned over and nudged her gently. “You good?”

She gave him a tight smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just... tired.”

Sam didn’t press further, but his gaze flicked between her and Bucky, knitting his brows together in thought.

The hours of the flight passed in uncomfortable silence. She stopped trying to talk to Bucky, resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t in a place to let her in. Instead, she found herself leaning on Sam, who kept the mood light with his casual banter and stories, though she knew he could see the strain on her face.

----

After 22 long hours of flight, the group finally arrived at Ushuaia, skipping any rest stops and heading straight to the location marked on the map as the Hydra facility. The biting -7°C temperature hit them the moment they stepped off the plane, but no one said a word. Adrenaline and focus were locked firmly on the upcoming assault.

As the team deployed, spreading out to take their positions, she adjusted the straps of her gear, ready to follow her assigned group, when she felt a hand wrap around her forearm, halting her steps.

It was Bucky.

Before she could say a word, he gently tugged her closer, his steel-blue eyes piercing through the dim light of the icy morning. Without hesitation, he dipped his head, resting his forehead lightly against hers. The gesture was intimate in a way that caught her completely off guard.

“Stay safe, doll,” he murmured, barely audible over the wind. His other hand slid to her lower back, a solid and steadying touch that sent warmth spreading through her chest despite the freezing air. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt like time had paused around them.

Before she could respond, he pulled back, slipping his hand from her back as he released her. The touch lingered like an imprint on her skin, a phantom sensation she couldn’t shake.

He gave her a small, firm nod, and then turned, walking away to take his position. She stood frozen for a moment, her heart racing and her thoughts spinning in a blur. She didn’t notice the tiny tracker he’d deftly pressed onto the back of her jacket, concealed in one of the seams.

She exhaled deeply, shaking her head as she regrouped with her team. It was only after they began their cautious advance toward the Hydra’s den that she realized she hadn’t said anything back.

----

Bucky's moves were methodical and relentless, bordering on terrifying. His rifle barked sharp bursts of gunfire as his entry key. The initial resistance barely had time to register what hit them before he had breached their defenses with precise and purposeful shots, clearing the way with deadly efficiency. Once inside, the rifle was slung across his back, and he transitioned to pistols, twin bursts of fire that cut through the dimly lit hallways.

When a close-range ambush came at them, he didn’t falter. A knife was in his hand before the first attacker could barely move, and the blade moved in a blur as he parried, slashed, and dropped him in seconds. His other hand went for another approaching assailant, and the dull thud of his fist meeting flesh sickly reverberated down the hallway. The third guy went down with a savage elbow strike to the jaw, that sent the man crumpling against the wall.

The facility was a maze, and he navigated it with an almost preternatural awareness, dispatching any Hydra remnants that dared to cross his path.

Behind him, his team could barely keep up. “Does he even need us?” one of them muttered under their breath, clutching their assault gun tightly as they followed, watching Bucky tear through Hydra’s defenses like a one-man wrecking crew. They focused on providing cover and securing the areas he left in his wake, though it felt almost redundant.

He wasn’t reckless, he was purposeful. Every move was efficient, calculated like a finely tuned machine operating at full capacity. And beneath that precision, was a driving force, a singular thought that fueled him: finish this, finish it fast, get to her.

He turned a corner into a wider room where a group of agents had set up a defensive line. Their gunfire erupted the moment they saw him, but he was already moving. His body twisted as he sprinted toward them, weaving through the barrage with inhuman speed. A flash grenade from his belt bought him the split second he needed to close the distance. When the deafening pop and blinding light cleared, he was in the middle of their formation.

One went down with a knife to the gut, another with a pistol shot to the temple. The third tried to grapple him, only to be met with a swift blow from his vibranium arm that sent him sprawling. Bucky didn’t stop. His fists drove into ribs and jaws, his knives carving through the last line of resistance like it was nothing. Blood splattered onto the cold floors, and the once-deafening room fell silent except for his steady breathing.

The radio on his team leader crackled. “Barnes, status?”

“Clear,” he grunted, wiping the blade of his knife on his sleeve and sheathing it in one fluid motion. His team moved in behind him, sweeping the room as they murmured amongst themselves about the inhuman force of his assault.

He barely heard them. His mind was already elsewhere. His heart was pounding, not from exertion, but from the worry that ate away at him. The sooner his end of the mission was done, the sooner he could ensure she was safe.

----

As Bucky cleared the last room in his assigned sector, he took a final sweep, ensuring no hidden threats remained. The bodies left in his wake weren’t his concern, only the safety of his team, and more importantly, her. So he turned around and started walking away.

He moved like a shadow through the corridors, silent and methodical, operating on pure instinct. The tracker he’d slipped into her clothes pulsed steadily on his HUD, leading him through the labyrinth of sterile hallways and flickering overhead lights. Hydra never changed, their bases were practically carbon copies, and he used that to his advantage, cutting through shortcuts only an old ghost like him would know.

Gunfire crackled in the distance, shouts echoing through the steel walls, but none of it mattered to him.

He picked up the pace as he neared her location, tightening his grip around the pistol in his flesh hand, his vibranium fingers twitching in anticipation. Then, finally, he reached her sector.

The sight before him sent a cold fury ripping through his chest.

The fight was still ongoing and it was clear her team was barely holding on. Some were down, some wounded, and the rest were outnumbered. But Bucky’s eyes only locked onto one thing: the asset trying to restrain her.

She was struggling. He could see the way her limbs lagged just a second too slow, the way her stance wavered ever so slightly, she was exhausted. She’d burned herself out healing the others, and now they were trying to take her.

The bastard restraining her was big, armored, and clearly enhanced. Bucky already knew the type, one of Hydra’s modern knockoff attempts at recreating him. The man had his arm locked around her middle, wrestling to subdue her, while his other hand reached for a syringe strapped to his vest.

Bucky didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate.

His pistol fired once. Clean, direct. The bullet punched through the asset’s wrist, making him snarl and drop the syringe before he could use it.

Before the man could react, Bucky was already on him.

The Winter Soldier resurfaced with brutal efficiency. He grabbed the man by the vest and threw him off her like a ragdoll, sending him crashing into a nearby crate. The asset barely had time to groan before Bucky was on him again, landing a punishing strike to the ribs, then another to the jaw.

The bastard recovered quickly, swinging at Bucky’s head, but he dodged with ease, catching the incoming arm and twisting sharply. The asset howled, but Bucky silenced him with a savage punch that sent him sprawling.

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

He didn’t stop until the man stopped moving.

When he finally turned, he found her staring at him, breathing hard. Her hair was disheveled, her face marked with sweat and dirt, but she was alive.

Still his.

High on adrenaline, Bucky turned toward the dantesque scene unfolding around him. Her team was struggling, pinned down by the remaining opposition, outnumbered and exhausted.

So he moved.

The first man barely had time to register his presence before Bucky’s knife found his ribs, twisting with brutal precision. The second one lunged at him, and Bucky let him, sidestepping at the last second and slamming his elbow into the man's throat, crushing his windpipe. They kept coming but the room was cleared in minutes. Efficient. Lethal. Over.

His feet carried him forward before his brain even fully registered it, his hands reaching for her the second he was close enough. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her tightly, his chest rising and falling against hers as he tried to steady himself.

His face found the crook of her neck, and he inhaled deeply, calming himself with her scent. She was real, she was safe.

She was trembling, whether from exhaustion or leftover adrenaline, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. He just held her tighter, curling his fingers into the fabric of her tactical gear, pressing her against him like he could shield her from everything.

He didn’t speak. He just held on, waiting for his heart to stop hammering, for the instinct to fight, to kill, to protect, to settle into something quieter.

He didn’t let go. Not yet. Not for a long while.

----

She let him hold on, basking in his unrelenting grip. But as the minutes stretched, something felt wrong in her chest, a creeping worry she couldn’t shake.

“Bucky,” she breathed against his ear, trying to pull back just enough to see his face.

He didn’t answer.

Her hands skimmed over his back, searching for wounds, for anything out of place. “Bucky, are you hurt? Let me see you.”

Nothing. No response. If anything, his arms locked tighter around her.

She leaned back slightly, shifting her hands to his face, ready to insist -look at me, talk to me- but then she saw it.

The empty stare. The idle, blank eyes she knew too well.

Her stomach dropped.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, gentle but firm. She inhaled deeply before trying. “Soldat?”

A barely-there shudder ran through his body. His grip twitched, tightening before loosening just the slightest bit.

She swallowed hard. She knew exactly where he was, adrift in the space between past and present, somewhere dark, somewhere cold. She cupped his face,  sweeping her thumbs over the sharp lines of his cheekbones. “Listen, everything is fine now. We are safe, you did good. You can rest.”

Her breath hitched as his grip slipped down and tightened around her thighs, and the world tilted violently as he hoisted her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

“Soldat-” she started, but he moved with single-minded purpose, boots echoing heavily against the bloodstained floor as he strode down the corridor.

The others tried to move after them, with evident concern. “Stand down,” she called over her shoulder, her voice firmer than she felt. “Don’t- don’t interfere.” Because if they do…

They hesitated, but obeyed, exchanging wary glances as the two disappeared around a corner.

“Soldat,” she tried again. “Put me down. I’m fine. Where are we going?”

No answer. Not even a flicker of recognition. His grip remained firm, arms locked around her legs, his vibranium hand pressing against the small of her back to keep her steady.

The hallways blurred past in a dizzying, all-too-familiar pattern. He knew where he was going. Of course he did. Hydra never changed their layouts, never altered their twisted efficiency.

And then he stopped. A metal door loomed ahead, slightly ajar, the faded remnants of a red cross still painted on its surface.

The infirmary.

Before she could speak, he shoved the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside. She staggered slightly as he set her down “What are you-“

But he wasn’t listening. Not really. He pressed his back against the door, sliding down until he sat on the cold floor with one bent knee and the other stretched out. His head tilted back against the cold metal with a dull thud, and his eyes flicked shut for just a second before snapping open again. His chest rose and fell in deep, measured breaths. His gaze landed unfocused somewhere in the distance.

She took a cautious step forward, lowering her voice. “Soldat?”

His fingers twitched.

The only thing she could think to do was play along. Her pulse hammered in her throat, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. First, she pressed a hand to her comm, switching to Sam’s channel. Keeping a steady voice, she whispered, “Sammy, I’m fine. My side of the facility is clear, but there’s… a complication with Bucky. My teammates will fill you in. Just don’t come looking for us. Please. I need you to make them understand.”

There was a long pause, before Sam’s voice finally came through the crackle of static, lower, graver than usual. “…You sure about this?”

Her gaze flicked back to Soldat, watching the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, coiled like a spring. She swallowed hard. “Yes. Let me handle it.”

Another pause. Then, a resigned sigh. “Alright. But if you need backup-”

“I’ll let you know.” She shut off the comm before he could argue, pushing the outside world aside.

----

She clasped her hands in front of her, standing straighter, adopting the crisp authority she’d seen Hydra’s handlers use a thousand times before.

“I need a mission report.”

His fingers twitched again. His gaze flickered -just slightly- but it stayed distant, unfocused, locked somewhere behind her rather than on her.

A long beat of silence.

Her stomach clenched.

She took another step closer. “Soldat,” she repeated, keeping her tone firm but even. “Mission report. Now.”

His jaw worked, and a slow inhale expanded his chest.

“…Facility neutralized.” The words came rough and automatic, like a reflex. His voice was lower than usual, mechanical, like the syllables were pulled from his throat against his will. “Threats eliminated.”

She swallowed. “And my status?”

His breath stuttered slightly. His fingers flexed, curling into loose fists before releasing.

“Secure,” he said after a pause.

She exhaled quietly, steadying herself.

Her mind raced for the next step. She couldn’t just order him out of this. She needed to guide him back. She took a slow breath, crouching down to his level, careful not to make any sudden movements. “Good,” she murmured. “So… mission’s over now, right?”

Another twitch. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

She hesitated, then reached forward, brushing featherily his vibranium knuckles. No sudden moves. No pressure. “Remember what happens when a mission is over? You let me check on you and I get you all better.”

He hesitated. His brows knitted together as though sifting through fragmented, conflicting commands buried deep in his mind. But then, after a long, tense beat, he gave a single, curt nod.

A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding slipped from her lips.

“You did good,” she said again, keeping a reassuring voice. “Go sit on the stretcher and let me see you.”

He stood immediately at her command, a well-oiled machine running on deeply ingrained instinct. With precise, practiced movements, he removed his rifle, his sidearm, and every knife tucked into his gear. Each weapon clattered softly onto the nearby tray, in a quiet, chilling symphony of steel.

Then, without hesitation, he stripped away his tactical vest, shrugging out of it like armor no longer needed. His Henley followed, baring his torso under the harsh, sterile light of the infirmary. His skin was streaked with sweat and blood. The deep, ugly wounds carved into him were the only indication that he wasn’t invincible.

He sat on the stretcher with squared shoulders and rested his hands on his thighs as he stared ahead. Silent. Waiting.

Her breath hitched when she saw the extent of the damage. Two large-caliber bullet wounds, one grazing his ribs, the other embedded deeper near his shoulder. A deep stab wound on his side, red and angry. The blood had slowed to a sluggish trickle, but the damage was undeniable.

She inhaled heavily, steeling herself, knowing she was running on fumes. She had drained so much of herself in the fight, trying to keep others alive, trying to be useful. But she couldn't stop now. Not when he was in front of her, hurt because of her.

Her hands hovered over the worst wound, shaking slightly before she forced them to steady. Focus. Do what you have to.

But as she pressed her glowing fingers to his skin, and the warmth of her power seeped into his body, another weight settled over her. Guilt.

He came here because of her.

He got hurt because of her.

And worst of all… his mind was slipping, because of her. Regressing into something she wasn’t sure she could pull him back from. She choked on a sob, and her vision blurred as she fought to keep her hands steady, mending his torn flesh.

The sound made his jaw tick, and something shifted in his expression. Slowly, he turned his head to her, knitting his brows together as he took in the sight of her tear-streaked face. His gaze flickered toward the door -searching, assessing-before settling back on her.

The hesitation flickered in his usually unwavering demeanor. Then, with a slow movement, he lifted his flesh hand and cupped her cheek.

“Why?” he rasped, his voice was rough, uncertain.

That made her sob harder, but she didn’t stop mending him. She leaned into his palm, pressing her cheek against the warmth of his hand as she sniffled, trying to regain control of herself.

“S-sorry,” she managed, her voice unsteady.

“You are always sorry,” he countered, in a neutral, almost observational tone.

Something about the way he said it made her pause. It rang a bell. The Soldat never spoke to her before. Not when they dragged him into the med bay, not when she pleaded with him to respond in those stolen moments of quiet, not when she whispered apologies he couldn’t acknowledge.

But this wasn’t Bucky either, not completely. This was a fractured version of him, a Soldat pulled from the depths of his mind, not the same hollow shell she remembered. He was speaking to her, processing things in a way he never had before. How much of him was in there? How much did he understand?

“It seems so,” she conceded, in barely above a whisper, more to herself than to him.

He studied her, tilting his head slightly, the way he used to when something puzzled him. “You should stop before the handlers come in here,” he said, not harshly, but matter-of-factly, as though it was the most natural conclusion.

Her heart clenched. His mind was caught in the past, in a time when her presence at his side had always been followed by pain, by orders, by unseen eyes watching their every move.

She forced a small, steady breath, keeping her hands moving as she knitted his skin back together. “There are no… handlers here,” she said softly, keeping her tone careful, controlled.

His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t argue. His thumb brushed absently over her cheek, like he was still trying to place her, to make sense of the moment.

She swallowed hard. “Do you know where you are?”

He blinked, and his eyes flickered toward the corners of the room as if searching for cameras, for listening ears. His jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter, like he was telling her a secret.

“I know I was sent to retrieve you,” he admitted. “You are the one who fixes me. Always do.” A pause. “You shouldn’t be talking to me. I know what happens to you every time you talk."

Her throat closed, and suddenly, it felt impossible to breathe. A sharp twist of nausea coiled in her stomach, memories slamming with brutal force. Her hands trembled slightly where they pressed against his wound. “No one is going to come,” she whispered.

His brow twitched. His head tilted slightly, and his eyes scanned hers, as if searching for something, truth, deception, an explanation that made sense in the fractured landscape of his mind.

“They always do,” he said again, quieter.

She swallowed hard and lifted a trembling hand, resting it lightly against his jaw. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips. “Not this time, radnój,” she murmured.

His breath stilled.

His flesh hand, still cradling her cheek, stiffened slightly before his grip loosened as if he wasn’t sure whether to hold on or let go.

The endearment shocked him. That word had never been meant for him. He had heard it before but never directed it at him. His fingers flexed uncertainly against her cheek. She always had spoken to him before -soothing words in hushed tones, quiet reassurances when no one was listening- but never this.

His brow creased, and his gaze searched hers as though trying to make sense of it. “You don’t-” The words caught on his lips, and he shook his head slightly. “You shouldn’t.”

She exhaled shakily, brushing her thumb over his jaw in soft defiance. “I do.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed his features. Soldat did not hesitate. But something about her -about this- was pulling him somewhere he didn’t understand.

“…Why?” he finally rasped, in a quiet, rougher tone.

His eyes searched hers, as a storm of confusion and something else swirled in them. His hand still hovered near her face, as if caught between instinct and reason.

“Did I overstep?” she deflected softly.

His gaze dropped, and the furrow between his brows deepened. “No,” he mumbled after a long pause, almost contemplative. “I just don’t… understand.” His brows drew together further, and his expression was caught somewhere between confusion and something deeper, something close to longing, buried under years of conditioning.

She took a slow breath, before carefully asking, "Is it okay to hug you?"

She and Bucky hugged a lot, usually with him being the one to start the embrace. But this man in front of her was not entirely him, not yet. And she wasn’t sure if Soldat would welcome such physical contact.

He blinked at her, and the hand in his thigh tightened briefly before loosening again. His brow creased in thought, like he was trying to decipher a foreign language. Hugging. That wasn’t something that belonged in his world. Contact had always been a means to an end: restraint, punishment, control. Not this.

She waited, patient and open, making no move to force it. Just offering.

Finally, after a long beat of silence, he gave the smallest nod.

Carefully, she leaned in, moving slowly, telegraphing every motion as she wrapped her arms around him. He tensed at first, but she didn’t pull away. She just held on, warm and calm, resting her cheek lightly in the top of his head.

His breath shuddered out of him, and after another beat of hesitation, his metal arm came up around her. Not crushing, not desperate, just holding her.

It was different from Bucky’s embraces. Bucky clung, seeking comfort he didn’t know how to ask for. But Soldat? This was uncharted ground. He wasn’t seeking, he was discovering. Testing the weight of the contact. Trying to understand why something so simple could feel so foreign.

She squeezed him just a little, in silent reassurance. “See?” she murmured. “Safe.”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go either.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in silence. She felt his chest rise and fall in measured breaths, as if he was trying to calibrate the sensation of being held. His fingers twitched slightly where they rested against her back, flexing as if testing their own freedom to move.

She exhaled softly, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, so much of it, always there, always braced for the next order. But no command came this time. No mission awaited.

“You can let go if you want,” she whispered, though she made no move to pull away. “But you don’t have to.”

His grip tightened, just barely. A silent answer.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, just enough for his forehead to ghost against her temple. The breath he released was deep and measured, like he was recalibrating himself against her presence.

She closed her eyes. This was Bucky, somewhere underneath, even if his mind was still tangled in old wires. And if she had to be his tether back to himself, she would be.

“I’m here,” she murmured, not expecting a response.

But after a moment, barely audible, he rasped, “…I know.”

She leaned in just a fraction more, tilting her head so their foreheads pressed together, brushing her nose against his. A barely-there touch, light as a whisper. He was so still, caught somewhere between the past and the present, between instinct and something softer. His vibranium hand flexed at her waist. She whispered his name. Not Soldat, not a title, just his name. A soft reminder. His grip on her tightened, slightly curling his fingers into the fabric of her clothes. His breath became uneven and shallow. “I know,” he murmured again, in a rough, almost pained tone. He didn’t let go. And neither did she.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, wide and uncertain. The flickering light overhead cast shadows over his face, deepening the exhaustion etched into his features.

“I need to keep taking care of those wounds, hm?” she murmured softly, gentle as the touch she brushed along his back.

“Later,” he rasped, slightly tightening his grip at her waist.

She sighed softly, ghosting her fingers over his temple, pushing back a stray strand of hair. “I know you’re in pain, just-“

“And you’re drained,” he cut her off, tightening his jaw. His voice dipped lower, rougher. “Always… drained. Always crying. Always good. Even if I don’t deserve it.”

There he was again, stuck in the past, tangled in guilt and old wounds that refused to close.

Her heart clenched, but she didn’t let go. Didn’t move away. Instead, she cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb just beneath his eye.

“You deserve kindness,” she said firmly. “You always have.”

He turned his face slightly into her palm, as if hiding from the weight of her words. “…I don’t believe that,” he admitted.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, tightening her fingers against his skin. “Then let me believe it for you.”

Slowly, cautiously, she leaned in.

His breath hitched and his fingers flexed against her back, but he didn’t move away. Didn’t stop her.

She hesitated just before closing the distance, stopping her lips a whisper away from his. A silent offering, not a demand. He could pull back. He could reject it.

But he didn’t.

His grip on her tightened ever so slightly, barely perceptible, but she felt it, the smallest tug, a subconscious need.

So she closed the gap.

The first touch of her lips against his was featherlight, hesitant. The kind of kiss given when neither person was sure if they were allowed to have it. When the past weighed too heavy, when the present was too fragile.

He stiffened at first, as if his body didn’t know what to do with the warmth, real warmth. The softness of her lips against his, the tentative press of her fingers against his cheek, all of it felt foreign, too delicate for someone like him. But then, something in him cracked. His fingers curled against the fabric at her back, then tightening his grip and for a second -just one second- he leaned into it.

Then a sharp inhale. A shudder. His grip twitched, his body went rigid again, and she felt it, felt the exact moment the weight of too much history, too much instinct, too much them came crashing down.

She pulled back immediately, searching his face. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, his breath shallow. His lips parted, as if trying to form words but finding none.

She gently stroke her thumb along his cheekbone. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay.”

His throat bobbed, and his fingers ghosted at her waist, barely touching, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. His gaze flicked down, lingering on her lips for the briefest moment before darting back up to her eyes.

Then, barely above a whisper, rough and unsure-

“…Again?”

A request. A plea. A fractured man grasping at something good, something warm, something he never thought he could have.

She smiled softly, before leaning in once more, giving him exactly what he asked for.

Next Chapter

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