designpl

[shadowed-dancer]

Grace: I hope my wishes make it to Barbatos

Lumine, about to dump a shit-ton of dandelion seeds on Venti’s head: I’ll make sure they do

Edit: I just realized people might think this was from co-op. No he was up there he just hadn’t despawned after his story quest

[pjohoo-reclists]

hey I know this ask Is a little specific but are there any fics where Percy likes reveals his like struggling with guilt, and suicidal thoughts to people other than Annabeth? I love Percabeth I just really want to see other characters reacting to Percy's struggles! Thxxx!!!!

Hey Anon!! This wasn't too specific, don't worry. I read it and two fics immediately came to mind. One is a spot on match - Percy goes to therapy and talks about his guilt and suicidal thoughts/attempts. Took a little while to find a few more tho. Enjoy!

Percy Confides in Others Rec List

A list of fics where Percy confides in people other than Annabeth about his guilt and suicidal tendencies. Enjoy!

How you remind me. by youngjusticewriter

T | 700 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood

Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Grover Underwood

(Look, he didn’t want to be a half-blood.) For a moment Percy felt the urge to ask Grover if he was ever going to be free. But he didn’t so the words stayed in his mouth and there they would rot like fruit left out for days in the summer heat. Percy opened his eyes. He stared at the bathtub. “...Grover, do you think I’ll graduate college?” Percy heard a sharp inhale. “Yeah, Percy. I do.” A noise escaped his throat. His vision grew blurry. “I agreed to go on a quest,” Percy said, finally admitting it to someone.

She’ll Rage For Him by aiden_salva00

T | 900 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Clarisse La Rue, Silena Beauregard & Clarisse La Rue

Survivor Guilt, Percy Jackson is a Mess, Camp Half Blood

Clarisse La Rue knows rage. Percy Jackson knows loyalty. As the boy breaks, she summons rage to protect him like he has always protected them.

A Son's Prayer by AJDoesStuff (ApophisWrites)

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Post Tartarus, Suicidal Thoughts, Good Parent Poseidon

Percy Jackson had been through hell and back, literally in his case, and he just wants someone to talk to where he won't be a burden. He prays to Poseidon, knowing his dad will most likely not bother listening to him, why would he want to listen to someone like Percy anyway. Poseidon listens anyway.

Similarities by HK44

G | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Carter Kane

Short and Sweet, Carter is a good friend, Angst

“It’s different,” Percy cut in, pulling back, moving away, getting ready to leave. “They wouldn’t get it.” The words were firm, edged in steel, lined with barricades. He was falling back into himself again. Carter cursed everything and grabbed his arm. “Hey. What’s up?”

Dying is easy, living is harder by One_Real_Wrimonkey

T | 1.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue

Grief/Mourning, Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue Friendship, Clarisse La Rue has PTSD

She found him on a rock looking over the ocean, waves crashing below them, lit by a brilliant moon. It felt too pretty, given the state of the world, but he couldn't look away. Percy expected her to try and drag him back to camp, or maybe shove him off the cliff, but she only sat next to him. "Wanna talk about it?" . Three weeks after the war, Percy and Clarisse finally allow themselves to grieve.

and the ships are left to rust by Duck_Life

T | 1.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Jason Grace

Survivor Guilt, Bathing/Washing, Grief/Mourning

Jason goes looking for Percy after the final battle.

Rest Me And My Bones by Freddie_77

Not Rated | 1.9k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue, Clarisse La Rue & Will Solace, Percy Jackson & Will Solace

Grief/Mourning, Post Gaea & The Second Giant War, Trans Characters

“Hey,” Percy says, and it’s three AM, and Clarisse has finally got Ellis and Sherman to stop fucking fighting and go to bed, so why is he on the cabin doorstep, and really, how did he get around the landmines? Sure, all the counselors got to know cabin protections, but he hasn’t been at camp in… seven months? Eight? (Sure, Clarisse knows the exact date, deep down, a doomsday clock ticking away, your friend has been gone for this long and this long and this long– But she doesn’t need to admit that.) “The fuck do you want?” Her voice is gruffer than she means for it to. She loves him, deep down. (Very, very deep. You may need a gun pressed to her head to make the words come out. Doesn’t make it less true.) “Donuts,” he responds without pause, holding up one of the camp SUV’s keys. “I figured we could go out with Will. He’s waiting in the car already.” Or: post battle, Percy, Will, and Clarisse go out for donuts and talk for a while.

I'm going to make you wish you were dead by nlpiersee

T | 2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Aphrodite & Ares & Hades & Hephaestus & Hera & Persephone & Poseidon & Zeus (Percy Jackson)

Angst and Feels, Near Death Experiences, Family Drama

The council of the gods gathers expecting to smite a demi-god, only to have the tables turned on them. No one expected one hero to have gone through so much.

i'm a young man built to fall by bakedbean15

T | 2.1k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Paul Blofis & Percy Jackson

PTSD, Post the Second Titan War, Rachel Elizabeth Dare is a good friend

Percy has a flashback at school, Rachel and Paul help.

Just Because I Left Doesn’t Mean That I’m Not Still There by SiederTreeStudios

G | 2.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Post Tartarus, Post-Gaea & The Second Giant War, Protective Poseidon

Posideon couldn’t be there for his son when he needed him. But he could be there now. OR Posideon’s perspective on Percy’s adventures (mostly the Lightning Thief) and the aftermath of it all.

life doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints by Thatcrazyfan

T | 2.7k | Complete

Clarisse La Rue/Chris Rodriguez, Percy Jackson/Annabeth

Survivor Guilt, Hopeful Ending, Percy Jackson needs a hug

Chris noticed it before anyone else. He heard the whispers, saw the stares and was vividly reminded of the first few years after he had re-joined camp. The distrust in everyone’s eyes and in their actions and in the voices was something he would never, ever forget. Or, Something's wrong with Percy, and Chris is worried. Percy hasn't been his usual self in a long time.

Call Me by orphan_account

G | 2.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Attempted Suicide, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Trans Male Character

Percy and Nico made a promise on the River Styx, if either ever felt really depressed or like they might attempt suicide they have to call the other. Nico receives an Iris Message on a Tuesday.

the ghost of you by beforedaybreaks

G | 3.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Luke Castellan

Canonical Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Minor Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson

"Hello," the ghost of Luke says from its perch atop Percy's bedroom drawer. It tilts its head; grins, baring shiny white teeth. Luminous gold eyes bore deep into Percy's soul. Percy freezes. "You're not real,” he says, accusatory. Luke seems unphased by this development. In which Percy Jackson is haunted by the ghost of Luke Castellan, deals with unresolved feelings of guilt, and learns to say goodbye, all at the same time.

Percy's "Wonderful" Adventures in Therapy by Inlovewithsnow2002

T | 3.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson, Sally Jackson

Past Child Abuse, Percy finally gets Therapy, Suicidal Thoughts

After a series of unfortunate events Percy has landed himself in therapy.

You Can Kid The World, But Not Your Sister by HK44

T | 4.7k | Complete

Sadie Kane, Percy Jackson, Walt Stone

Panic Attacks, Monsters, Mental Health Issues

It was like the world had slowed between the seconds that it’s tongue lifted off of Felix’s hair and it’s entire body convulsing. It went so painfully still, a broken yelp echoing from it’s mouth. She saw the way it’s eyes bulged, Percy stepping in close. As though the parasite alien from Alien was breaking through, she could see the shift of muscle and bone underneath it’s thick mass of fur. And then the room was splattered in blood and yellow sand.

Apricity by TheProfoundSilence

T | 7.5k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Apollo

Kidnapping, BAMF Percy Jackson, Protective Poseidon

Percy gets kidnapped. He thought the pain was easy to deal with, but hell is just that, hell to live through. In the aftermath, a lonely infirmary, sheer willpower, and Percy Jackson attempts to rebuild himself back again with a little help from godly friends.

the light in the darkest depths of the sea (why can't i hold on?) by AchillesComeHome

Not Rated | 8.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Angst with a Bittersweet Ending, Good Parent Poseidon, Depressed Percy Jackson

He’s sinking down, and down and down. His throat burns from the seawater aggravating the soreness of it. The water carries him down, or maybe that’s him. He doesn’t know. He lets the sea take him. Maybe she’ll give him the peace he’s never truly had. Maybe she’ll let him rest for once. So he drifts, throat choking and burning with tears, eyes focused on the dimming light above him. Maybe this was his fate all along - to be swept away by the sea to a place even his father can’t find him. And maybe, he’s okay with that. Maybe he can sleep now. Or in which Percy Jackson has given up, but Poseidon has not.

Stars on the Water by liketolaugh

T | 116k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Thalia Grace, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood & Annabeth Chase

Percy Jackson has Self Esteen Issues, Percy Jackson Goes to Therapy, Abused Percy Jackson

"I dunno, I just think it would make a lot of things easier for a lot of people," Percy said to Thalia, when she just stared at him. His cheek rested in his hand, a rare pensive look leaving his eyes distant and unfocused. "Mom has Paul now, so it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t have to worry about me mucking things up. Dad won’t have to keep threatening war every time Zeus gets his toga twisted. The prophecy’s done, so I won’t be bringing it down on Nico. And no one will have to worry about me blowing up another volcano."

Star Light, Star Bright by liketolaugh

T | 192k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis

Therapy 2: Electric Boogaloo, PTSD, Past Child Abuse

Subject: Percy's back Hello, Raine. I know that you're on leave right now, but you asked me to tell you as soon as we got further news on Percy. He's home. He's safe. But can you please get back to me as soon as possible? He's not doing well, and he's been asking for you. I hope that you've been resting well. With love, Sally

[somewhereincairparavel]

could u do something about thalia never showing up for jason? in the end of tlh he was hoping she’d show up for the counselors meeting and she didn’t so maybe a series of him making plans with her/trying to get in touch with her and just being disappointed every time… not thalia hate i love u thalia she just is too busy for him (while doing it during the months between tlh and son could be cool i think in between boo and toa would be more angsty bc u know he’s going through a breakup!!! he’s all alone in this random private school he isn’t familiar with the mortal world and he just wants his sister but she isn’t there!!!)

Two times Jason Grace wrote Thalia a letter, and the one time he didn't send it.

author's note: Ah this is so angsty and perfecttt :( The Grace siblings deserved more…they're my faves fr.. anyway, I hope I did justice to your request anon! Thank you for requesting, it made my day! I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. I just finished my exams and I'm back to having more time for writing :) you guys can send me more angsty jason prompts like this one if you want to, I'll write them with the best of my capabilities, I'm quite new to heavy angst like this so I was surprised when I was able to finish this within an hour. Jason Grace does this to me.

TW: severe angst. I mean it, very severe, character death, mentions of sacrifice, no happy ending. I went all out, I'm sorry. I was just way too into this.

Jason traced his finger over the glossy photo frame in his hands, which encrusted a picture of his older sister, Thalia. He had requested Leo to help him with the framing, the edges were made with a mahogany coating. He smiled at the lovely picture of his sister, her hair being held together by her silver huntress circlet, wearing her punk rock clothes. 

Over the course of the summer, He had finally gotten the chance to take a good picture of Thalia for a family keepsake, he had held on to the tattered, torn picture of Thalia that annabeth had given to him before his first quest, and he still treasured it greatly. But he insisted that Thalia and him take at least one good picture before she disappeared with her maidens into the world, for months. 

“And then Leo said-” Jason was cut off by thalia’s fellow maiden Phoebe, rushing towards them, yelling for thalia. 

“Lady Thalia, lady Artemis is heavily in need of your assistance immediately!” Phoebe said panting. Thalia frowned and her eyes apologetically turned back to Jason. “I'll be there” she told her fellow huntress, before giving Jason a strangling hug. “I'm so sorry Jason, we'll talk later yeah?” Jason swallowed his disappointment after he saw how truly apologetic Thalia looked. “Of course, stay safe for me?” Thalia smiled sweetly and nodded at that before trudging up the path.

That was the last time he had seen of Thalia in months, and there was only one way to settle this. Jason decided to send in letters to his sister, that way, she could read it and keep them with her, and he could tell her everything without getting interrupted by anyone. He soon learnt to cherish this hobby alot. He loved his sister, and writing to her gave him a warm sense of comfort. He needed that, especially after Leo's death.

“Dear Thalia,

How have you been sis? I hope your mission with Phoebe to help Artemis went well! It's been pretty tough lately. My nightmares are plagued with pictures of mom. I know you of all people would understand how horrific that feels. I miss Leo, and piper's been acting a little strange around me lately.. but Leo's disappearance is taking a toll on her. So I get it. Nico is finally staying in camp half blood, isn't that great?? That boy deserved a break for once. Anyways, write back if you can, but if you can't, that's fine, I know you're busy.

–love, your annoying little brother.

Weeks, and months flew by, but still no response from Thalia. But he knew better than to take it seriously. Jason knew that she had gotten the letter, and that was enough for him. Well, that was enough, until things went downhill for him very quickly. Piper had approached him in the school corridor and thought it was a great day to end their year long relationship, shattering Jason's soul to pieces, this, coupled with the immense amount of pressure he had to build the minor god shrines, Jason felt numb, and he did what he usually did. He poured his heart out to Thalia in another letter, seeking comfort in his ink and paper. Longing for thalia’s presence once more.

“Dear Thalia,

it's me again, I hope you're doing good, atleast better than I am. I've been feeling terrible lately, Piper ended things with me, i guess we finally know why she was acting the way she did around me, huh? She said our relationship was only hera’s illusion and didn't feel that way about me anymore, which sucks, since I'm still very much in love with her. The pressure has increased tenfolds on me these days, the minor gods are heavily anticipating the promise I told them I'd keep. I'm planning on moving schools so i don't have to deal with the heartbreak of seeing Piper in school anymore. Anyways, I just wanted to write to you since it makes me feel better. Sending you lots of love from California.

— love, Your annoying little brother 

Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Months. 

Jason knew. The moment the sibyl told him about looking for the third emperor. Jason knew, that his doomsday was going to knock on his doorstep very soon. He was going to sacrifice himself for Piper. And nobody was changing his mind. Jason stared out his dormitory window, the outside mortal world looked a little too cheery for the melancholic thoughts that were chasing his mind. He averted his gaze to the person in the picture frame hanging at his wall. Thalia had always been too busy for him. They had never had a proper full conversation together, one on one conversations getting disrupted, iris messages wearing out within a few minutes, even his letters never got a reply, or even a single acknowledgement. 

Yet jason knew, that Thalia Grace was the only one who loved him more than anything in the world. She didn't have to spend time with him for him to know that. He knew by the way she had only left their childhood home after Jason was deemed “dead”, he knew by the way she had picked a two year old jason up  after he injured his mouth with that stapler,he knew by the way she played hide and seek when they were little, he knew by the way she had told no one about him, not even annabeth, since he was a memory that she held close to her heart. So subconsciously, his hands wrapped around the pen he always used to write with. With shaky hands, and teary eyes slowly dripping in the paper, he began to write.

Thalia was resting on the rocks, thinking of how Jason was doing, she had recieved all his letters and read them through atleast 2 times. She wanted to respond, but it kept slipping her mind. Something had always come up, but now, she was finally free. Just as she was about to pick up her pen, she heard her name being called.

“Thalia!”

It was Reyna. She was holding an envelope, Thalia’s spirits skyrocketed at the thought of her brother sending her another letter. But.. why was it being sent through Reyna..? It was usually always sent by Jason's wind manipulation. Those letters would float towards her. That's how she always knew it was from her brother.

She was expecting Reyna to tease about Jason's cheesy letters to his sister, but what she wasn't expecting, was for Reyna to start sobbing on the spot, breaking out the news that her younger brother was dead. 

Jason. Her little stapler eating brother. Was dead.

“This was found by Meg in Jason's desk.” Reyna shakily handed Thalia the envelope. It was a blue envelope, the usual colour that Jason always sent to her. And on top of it, was his smudy handwriting that Thalia could recognise from a mile away. The letter was signed “To Thalia Grace”.

Thalia opened it carefully but tears were leaking out of her eyes.

“Dear Thalia,

there's something that I've been keeping for a while now, but I know it's finally the time to tell you this. I met the sibyl in the labryinth who had told me that my life would be cut short. if went looking for the third emperor, Caligula, either me or Piper would be killed. There's no point denying the inevitable is going to happen. Prophecy's can never be thwarted, after all. I've made my choice, I'm not letting Piper die. I've decided that I am going to use myself as a sacrifice. I'm writing you this, to let you know, that, I love you. I love you so much sis, I hope you know that. I know we've never got to see eachother much, but I don't want you blaming yourself in any way for this. I hope you know that, writing to you, even without a response from your side all these months, has helped my life feel a lot more meaningful. the mere thought of you taking the time to read my letters makes me feel so loved. So happy. Now that I know that I might be meeting my end, I'm letting you know, that I've cherished every single thing you've ever said to me. Including the fact that you hate tomatoes on your sandwiches. Take care of yourself, sis, I'm always with you.

  — love, for the last time, your annoying little brother :)

Thalia clutched the letter with her heart, screaming in agony. Thunder boomed angrily overhead, almost as if her father could feel her rage. Her heart strings were tearing apart. She sobbed, as she looked up at the blue sky, the same blue as Jason's darling eyes.

“I love you too. My annoying little brother, always”

[mossstep]

ghost sagau!

Part one… you’re here Part two part 3

characters: Hu Tao

tw/cws: genshin sagau, swearing, minor ooc (idk how to write hu tao)

note: I am a minor, don’t be weird in my tags please!

Waking up in teyvat was certainly not on your bingo card for this year. You had only been playing genshin seriously for about a year or so. You had played before that, but had gotten bored after the Monstadt archon quest, because of the steep ar requirements for the Liyue archon quest.

So waking up in Liyue, specifically wuwang hill was,  jarring to say the least. You had recognized the area immediately. You had basically lived in the crimson witch domain farming for your Hu Tao. Not that you had Hu Tao yet, having lost your 50/50 on each of her reruns. (Seriously! Talk about bad luck!)

As you get up you notice a vague feeling weightlessness, looking down, you noticed that you were partially see-through? What?

You had barely been able regain your composure when you here a familiar song. You recognized it anywhere, seeing as it from was one of the most iconic idles in the game. 

As the director of the Wanshengn funeral parlor sang her song, she suddenly paused, staring directly at you.

“Hello!” She says with a grin walking towards you, “you’re different from the other ghosts that hang around here,” she said with a smile.

“I-“ you opened your mouth to speak, but what were you supposed to say in this situation? ‘Yeah you’re right, I’m from a world where this is all a game and you’re a fictional character lol’ like, you can’t just say that! That’d give Hu Tao an existential crisis! 

…actually maybe it wouldn’t considering her personality, but thats besides the point. 

“…yeah,” you say, “you’re Hu Tao, correct?” You don’t need the clarification considering how much time you’ve spent on this game, but it doesn’t really matter.

Hu Tao laughed, “I’m sure you don’t need need me to confirm, your grace, considering-“

“IM SORRY?” You blurt out before thinking, “what- what the fuck did you just call me?”

“Oh” Hu Tao stared at you for a moment. “You’re the creator right? Everyone here knows we wouldn’t exist without you creating an account!”

“What?” Is the only thing you can’t think about to say, “you- oh my god?” The people here know they’re in a video game? Wait hold on- creator? The fuck?

Hu Tao stared at you for a moment, before a mischievous look washed across her face, “you should come to liyue harbor! I’m sure everyone would be happy to see you!”

“Okay?” You say, and Hu Tao ran off. “Hey- wait!” You didnt know your way to liyue harbor from here, always taking advantage of the waypoints, you go to run after her, but suddenly the world shifted. 

You would’ve felt a wave of nausea if it weren’t for your ghostly form, but one moment you’re at wuwang hill, and the next you’re standing by the waypoint overlooking Liyue harbor.

This was going to be a long day, wasn’t it?

[theextratreefairy]

The favorites p.1

Yandere! Teyvat x gn god!reader

Warnings: yandere themes, reader is a bit oblivious, reader is designs as a hobby but graduated with a law degree at earth, swearing, slight violence if you squint, Aether loves feeding reader food (blame paimon), jealousy, paimon loves annoying reader, mentions off Cyno, Tignari in that TCG trailer thingy in which they play TGC with Kaveh and Alhaithem but aether is added, Cyno and tignari feel a little jealous, reader has some in-game items on her.

Summary:

God!Reader who's favorite characters are Kaveh, Traveler!Aether and Alhaithem. And when they meet them they immediately bless them without realizing. Causing quite the uproar within the whole of teyvat. After all, they didn't reveal themselves to the archons at all.

Reader loved the game 'Genshin impact' since their friends introduced it to them. So when they fell into Teyvat while awakening under the tree at windrise, they were glad to find out it wasn't an imposter au, and the fact that they had some in-game items?! Phew, they won't die.

But before they reveal the fact that they have gold blood, they want to visit SUMERU! And luckily the waypoints still work :D!

Reader decided to walk into the city, teleporting not too far away, but they had to check how far it was into the archon quest! So better be safe then sorry.

"It's so pretty." Reader clapped their hands as they squealed. "Nahida has such a pretty region, well, hoyo does own Nahida some apologies for their traumatic background for her." They thought with a sinister smile, Nahida is Reader's child, she deserved better.

"i have a small bit of mora..." Reader mumbled and then smiled. 'Puspa Café, here I come!'

"Aether! Come join us in a game of TCG!" Cyno invited him as he walked into the café. "Sure! Is it alright if Paimon plays with me as a team?"

"yeah! Paimon wants to play too! But i dont have a deck!"

Aether and Paimon joined the table with Kaveh, Alhaithem, Cyno and tighnari, aether suddenly felt a wave of power washing over them.

"Did you feel that?" Aether whispered. "I did." Cyno confirmed. "Hi!" someone greeted them with a bright smile. "Your the traveler, Aether, correct?"

"Yes, I am..." The group was on guard. "May you find your sister and the answers to the questions that lie within your hearth." Reader told Aether while grabbing his hand and gave him a bright smile. Then they turned Kaveh and grabbed his hands, causing him to turn red. "May your buildings make an imprint on the world." Then they turned to Alhaithem. Grabbing his hands as well causing him to tense up. "And may you live a peaceful life while seeking the knowledge you wish to have."

A light started to glow above the three's heads, it was visible everywhere in teyvat. Causing a large uproar.

"I did not expect it to glow like that." Reader mumbled, causing Tighnari's eyes to widen. "Beloved creator, I thank you for gracing us with your-"

Reader started to get swarmed and Aether instictively pulled them closer. "Are you alright?" Paimon asked Reader. "Paimon thinks creator doesn't like crowds."

"Paimon, is correct. But call me reader, my dear."

"Let's eat together, Reader! Paimon wants to share food with my new friend!" Which caused Reader to chuckle. "Let's do so, if that alright with your travelling buddy." This caused Aether to smile, he loved seeing Paimon smile. And the creator gave them a blessing, a blessing that can help him find out the truth.

Alhaithem and Kaveh were trying to keep the crowd calm, Cyno and tighnari standning in front of Aether, trying to make sense of what happened.

"Alhaithem, got blessed by the creator?" Cyno mumbled, causing reader to look at him. "Alhaithem is one of my favorites!" Reader shouted with a smile. Which caused the crowd to murmer. The café's owner however didn't care, the creator was in his café, they are on a cloud nine.

"Just like Kaveh, Aehther, and now Paimon!"

Yeah this caused an even larger uproar.

[genhernandez]

Hey, look! It's GENEVIEVE HERNANDEZ. Did you know they WORK as a LAWYER at LEGAL LIGHTHOUSE ? I guess they're from NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK and have been in town for TWELVE MONTHS , living in HAWTHORNE HIDEAWAY. I also heard they're a little HARDHEADED, but also very GRACEFUL which definitely makes sense.

Born in the "city that never sleeps" to District Attorney Andre Hamilton and renowned stage actress, Eileen Debose, there was no doubt in the world that their little Genevieve would grow up to be anything less than 'ordinary'. Contrary to the stereotype place on those living in the dual-arenas of politics and the arts, Genevieve couldn't have asked for a more picture-perfect childhood. With no other siblings in tow, she was very easily the apple of her parents' eyes, especially her father's who always saw her as his perfect equal. The pair were inseparable, always going on trips together and sharing too many inside jokes, much to the amusement of the rest of the family.

It wasn't until Andre was let go from his esteemed position, after a string of scandals and allegations, that things weren't as idyllic as they first appeared. Turning to the only solace he could find; a bottle of aged whiskey or two, the Hamilton patriarch was a shadow of his former, doting self. The vocal battles between Genevieve's parents seemed to become a part of their almost daily routine. The fights always ended the same — with her father, regretting the venom in his words and promising to be better and her mother, tired and weary, vowing to leave. Months passed until it wasn't hard for the littlest Hamilton to feel like the loneliest girl in the world, immediately jumping into her studies as a means to escape.

College gave her a means to both hide away from the world and learn about it. She would spend most of her collegiate hours stalking the library's vast, spreading shelves in the hopes of somehow outdoing her father's legacy as well as dulling the darkness his downfall had caused. It was on a dreary Tuesday afternoon and on her usual quest, Genevieve tripped and fell, quite literally, head over heels for someone who looked unusually out of place amongst the law books of Honoré and Dickens. Shaking hands, he introduced himself as Cristian Hernandez.

With his cool, calm exterior, Genevieve was immediately entranced by his surprisingly gentle demeanour. To her, his outward features juxtaposed those inside, to her, he was exactly what she needed. Piece by piece, he collected her, he made her see her worth and seemed to love every inch of her and they were intoxicatingly happy. Naturally with this new and exciting plans for the happy couple; marriage, babies, careers. Months passed before the young moved into a small, shoebox-sized apartment, Genevieve could make peace with her decision of falling so hard and fast in love and she had to quickly as without a word as another wrench would be thrown into the works.

Sure enough, there came a call from her mother, her voice barely above a whisper and her tone mournful. It was her father. Despite his best efforts to make amends and cut back on the drinking for his family, it was his heart that finally betrayed the rest of his body and her mother found him in his favourite armchair, having passed away in his sleep.

Since her father's funeral, it seemed as if her life had changed forever. She had never felt alone yet so together with her family and Cristian by her side. They'd come through so much together, good and bad, and she was sure he was 'the One'. So it wasn't much of a surprise to anyone when wedding bells sounded and she could finally take his last name.

Before arriving in the picture-perfect town, Genevieve and Cristian had tried everything to finally achieve their goal of becoming parents and raising a family of their own, with no success until the couple decided to take things easier and not think about it for a little while. Sure enough, those little pink lines gave them everything they could possibly imagine and they were soon blessed with a beautiful baby boy, Samuel. Four years later, and completely surprised once again they were lucky enough to become parents again to another son, little Marcelino.

With her career flourishing and her family thriving, Genevieve couldn't ask for a happier, more picturesque town for her boys to grow up in. Though she can't mistake the feeling of wanting to expand their brood a little further, perhaps with a little girl like herself, who is the apple of her father's eye.

[sodamnbored]

One thing I still can’t quite understand in The Lost Hero is why on Earth Chiron said this:

That is such an extreme sentence to be the first thing you say to a kid you’ve just met! You should be DEAD. Like wtf Chiron? And the next second he’s back to normal, all conversational and friendly:

And Jason asks him to explain, as he should, and Chiron literally never does:

Like at first I thought, oh maybe because he could tell he was a Roman, the way monsters can smell the difference. But that would imply Chiron thought all Roman demigods were extinct. But that’s clearly not the case when he recognises the purple shirt and the tattoo and everything. He goes on after that to quiz Jason in Latin. He knows full well the Romans are still cutting about.

So then I thought, maybe it’s because he can somehow tell who his godly parent is and he’s freaked out that there’s another kid of the big three. But that doesn’t seem to be it either. Every other book another surprise big three kid is rolling up at Chiron’s front door. The shock of it really ought to have diluted a bit by now. Like, even if it’s a surprise, it’s hardly unfathomable that the biggest slut in Olympus squeezed out another secret kid.

I thought maybe it was because he was a kid of the big three but not a CHB kid, and he meant how did you possibly survive on your own for fifteen years? But then you get all this info proving he knows Jason is a Roman. So that doesn’t make sense either.

Surely saying “You…you shouldn’t be here.” Would be more appropriate to say than you should be DEAD. That is just such a weird unfounded thing to say!

And justifiably, Jason is still confused and asks again what he meant. And again Chiron is cryptic and never really answers the question:

That more than anything proves that he 100% knows the Roman camp is operating somewhere and that they just made a deal never to talk about it. But that in no way then means that Jason should be dead?

I get that it’s dramatic, and for sure it sucked me in the first time I read it, but I don’t think it’s ever actually explained why he chose that particular wording. And after this chapter they never go back to it. It’s so bizarre, and I genuinely just don’t understand why on Earth Chiron decided to word it like that.

Any idea I come up with seems really unlikely. Like I thought, maybe Chiron knew Thalia had a little brother who was presumed dead. But no. Because Thalia never told Luke, Annabeth or anyone about Jason. She never even made it into camp to meet Chiron in the first place. And when she did after turning back into a girl, she left almost immediately on a quest.

So then I thought, maybe Chiron keeps up to date with current affairs in the world. That’s plausible. Beryl Grace was a celebrity after all. The media would have probably been reporting any scandals of a spiralling star. There’s every chance that when her youngest child goes missing and nobody can find any sign of him that it would’ve been in the news. The news is always reporting missing toddlers. And there would’ve probably been investigations and people accusing Beryl of something malicious.

So, sure, Chiron might have known Jason from the news, and was maybe aware Thalia had once had a brother who went missing from that. But, again, Jason didn’t even know his last name. And even if the story had run for a bit (not to mention that it was happening on the other side of the country so who knows if major coverage would’ve spread to Chiron’s area), they would’ve been showing a picture of Jason at two years old. Most people wouldn’t immediately recognise a stranger from a toddler photo they haven’t seen in about thirteen years. Your face can change a lot in thirteen years. So I doubt that’s the case, because his reaction was immediate on seeing Jason.

It just doesn’t make sense to me. It was such an extreme reaction for no real explanation. So if I’m missing something and it’s obvious what he meant, please tell me because I genuinely can’t work it out.

[genshinobsession]

okey okey but like for your sentience au thing, and in one of your recent asks

like the one where the characters finally break free, childe's part had me thinking on how they can always be with you

what if, whatever, character manages to escape but what if they were tiny. like the same character size on the device you play on.

like what if they were pocket sized, is basically what I'm saying. then they can be always with ya.

ya know.

ack, too much.

anyways..

I'm really liking your writing and ideas. I've turned on my notifs, so that I can always be updated on when you post. and I just, plse continue to write. obvi ion wanna sounds like I'm forcing ya to continue writing.

drink some water, not too much nor too little, eat, takes nap and take care of yourself

This is a GREAT idea thank you!

I hope I wrote it the way you were hoping so far!

They Escape the Game (Part 1)

(Pocket Edition)

Characters included in this part:

Xiao, Diluc, Kaeya

(I may make a PC version but it will more than likely just be HC’s because the only thing that would change would be the slight change in height)

Xiao

It took everything in him to finally decide to leave everything he knows behind and take a leap of faith out of the game. All he’s every known has been Genshin and ONLY genshin. So when he had finally gotten out of it he was more than surprised by what he saw.

When he had made it out, the first thing he was met by

Was you.

Except, you were h u g e.

You looked down at the tiny person in front of you who had just literally hopped out of your screen.

As you took a closer look your realized it was xiao.

HA, that can’t be right, right?

You went to poke him to make sure you weren’t just making it up but right before you did you felt his tiny hands push against yours a-bit.

“What are you doing?” He asked with his usually annoyed tone. Your eyes widened as you realized, this was in fact xiao. He just, popped out of your game.

You left the palm of your hand open as he hesitantly climbed on. You carefully raised him closer to your face as he grabbed onto your thumb to secure himself on your hand.

“Xiao?” You asked.

“Who else would it be.” He retorted, taking a quick glance at the very large objects around him. He was used to the large mountains in Liyue but nothing of this size.

Having the tiny man in the palm of your hand was such a weird feeling but you had to admit his tiny angry face did look adorable. You gently placed him back down as you began to think.

“How are you even here?”

“...” no response came from the tiny yaksha as he looked away, seemingly avoiding the question. He looked around your room a bit more and noticed that you had his mask on your wall.

“How did you get that.” He asked as he pointed to it, looking back down towards his hip where his now tiny mask still remained.

“Oh, this was a gift from a friend of mine.” You said as you carefully took it down and placed it in-front of him.

Carefully he stood on top of the mask and admired the detail, it was accurate to the one he had, which was impressive but he dare not say that out loud. He lightly hopped off the mask as he looked back at your phone that now had an empty space where he had been.

His mind did start to wander as he thought about how literally all he knew was essentially

A lie.

Not wanting to think about it to much he turned back towards you.

“Traveler... pick me up.” He demanded as his now outstretched hands wrapped around your finger as you lifted him back up to your face.

“I am now going to stay with you to protect you at all times. No, you do not have a say in this.” He proclaimed as you lightly chuckled.

“What’re you going to protect me with, a toothpick?” You joked and xiao pulled out his spear and lightly poked your finger, not enough to make you bleed but it still hurt causing you to almost drop him.

“Didn’t think that through, did you.” You laughed.

Going about daily life wasn’t too hard with Xiao always around. You found different places to hide him so if someone walked in they wouldn’t see him.

When going outside you attempted putting him in your pocket but it was a bit to much of a tight fit for him to stick his head out well. So you decided to get a small empty bag.

He’s often very quiet throughout the day, just enjoying being around you finally. He didn’t even care about how you looked he just wanted to be around you especially now that he’s in a huge world full of unfamiliar things.

Diluc

At first Diluc was unsure about dropping everything and leaving, since there was no guarantee of him getting back if he felt homesick. However, this thought was overruled when you had joined the game again.

He wasn’t one to just jump head first into things but this time he was sure about what he wanted to do. And before you could even do your normal greeting he had leaped from the screen.

He didn’t think about the fact that he had no idea where he was going to end up when he jumped through but that question was quickly answered when he landed in your face.

You immediately swatted at you face, thinking it was a bug, not caring to open your eyes and look at who it actually was.

Diluc hung on for dear life as you finally swatted him off but he luckily landed on the pillow in-front of you.

As you rubbed your mouth hoping to get the feeling of what you thought was a bug off your mouth you finally heard it.

“Traveler?” The voice said. It was a strong voice and sounded, a bit far away. You looked around for the voices host, but saw no one. Until you looked down at the pillow in front of you and noticed the small redhead who was standing there.

You had no idea what to say, this isn’t real right? But it’s so convincing. He practically look as if he was actually there.

“Diluc?” You asked hesitantly as he looked back up at you. This was the first time he had ever seen you face to face, you were a lot bigger than he had thought you were going to be but he found your features beautiful nonetheless.

You carefully put your hand down for him to climb up and he did. He held onto your thumb go slight security as you lifted him up to get a closer look, and sure enough, it was Diluc, down to every last detail.

“Oh my goodness it really is you! Why are you so small?” You asked, he shrugged his shoulders and turned back to look at the thing he popped out of which was your phone.

“Well I’m assuming since I come through that portal object over there, I ended up being no bigger than that size.” He said as you put him carefully back down on the phone.

“What is this thing anyways?” He asked as he tapped the sword attack button on your screen causing your character to attack.

“Ah, so that’s how you did it. I will admit this is a little bit weird for me.” He said as he turned back towards you.

“Are you still able to bring out your weapon and everything?” You asked and he nodded and drew his weapon. You were amazed to say the least. Your favorite character literally just popped out of your game.

“This is amazing! I can’t believe you’re here, how did you even manage to get out? Do you plan to go back? How would you even get back?” You rambled on with more and more questions as Diluc just calmly watched you as a small smile graced his features.

He didn’t care about getting back right now, all he cares about was that he was finally with you.

Kaeya

Your day had been pretty rough. Nothing was going right from the beginning so when you finally got back home you decided to just sit down and play Genshin.

When you entered you had realized Kaeya wasn’t in his usual spot which confused you but you decided to do a few quests before questioning it.

Eventually you had just gotten to the point in the Lantern Rite where you had to talk to Kaeya and you were ECSTATIC.

You made your way from Liyue to Mondstadt as fast as you could. And from a distance you could see the marker as it counted down the closer you got to it. As you made your way to fountain there he was.

He smiled at your presence as you ran around him in circles, trying your best to say hi. You stopped in front if him and went through the quest dialogue, praying to Barbatos that he wouldn’t disappear after wards, and lucky enough for you he didn’t!

You hopped up and down out if pure joy.

Kaeya chuckled a bit at your excitement as he put his hands on your characters shoulders to stop them from hopping.

“I have a little surprise for you, I’ve been working on it for a while. I need you to wait here.” He said as he backed up from your character. You watched him as he just disappeared.

“The hell?” You asked out loud, what kind of surprise was this? You expected him to appear back in front of you in game but it never happened.

You waited a little bit expecting something to happen, yet nothing did. Until you were met face to face with the blue haired Calvary captain.

Not expecting the sudden figure to just appear in-front of you freaked out and jumped up from where you were seated, cause Kaeya to go flying.

Luckily it was that far of a distance and he managed to land safely.

“Kaeya?” You asked, thinking you might’ve just had your phone to close to your face.

“Surprise!” He said, climbing back up your chair. He landed on a space where you both could see each other as he finally got a good look at your face.

You had no idea what to say as you looked at the tiny captain in-front of you. He still did some of his idle animations as he stood, waiting for your response.

“How did you get out?” You asked him, leaning down towards him a bit.

“I have my ways.” He replied. It’s Kaeya, did you really expect a full detailed answer? He looked around your room, taking in the new surroundings. It was nothing like he had seen in Mondstadt, for one thing there was technology.

This was entirely new to him, and there didn’t seem to be any weapons anywhere.

Your entire room was practically the size of Mondstadt to him.

“I must say, I didn’t actually think this would work, but I’m glad I could finally meet you.” He smiled, you smiled back, still unsure of what was happening and questioning if you should make an appointment with an eye doctor.

“How long have you been trying for?” You asked looking down at him, he paused as he thought of his answer, the time difference in your world was drastic from that of Teyvat.

“Well it’s hard to say but I have tried maybe, 25-30 times before. I was starting to lose hope if I’m being honest.” He admitted. You had no idea he was this dedicated to getting out of the game

To see you.

It was flattering but also a bit scary to think your favorite character has wanted to meet you just as much as you wanted to meet him.

“This height difference nah be a problem though.” He pointed out with a chuckle.

“We’ll figure something out I’m sure.” You responded

-Birdy

(This basically just serves as an introduction to the idea and hopefully I will have enough time to come back and expand on what they do as tiny people)

[bokettochild]

Tired Feet and Nimble Fingers

Sooo.....

I wrote more Ravio fics. This is one of two, the second one still needs to be reread and checked for errors, but rest assured to whomever requested a fic for Ravio getting some fussing, I nearly killed the kid for you :)

Mr. Hero had nice hands.

Oh sure, they were rather thin, and a bit knobby at the knuckles, aged in a way most people their age would not understand for decades yet, but they were nimble, quick, and forever flitting from one thing to another with the easy grace of a person who’s done everything with their life except sit still and rest.

Mr. Hero’s hands were worn and aged but feather light in their touch and still impossibly firm when he’d grab Ravio by the scarf and pull him down the one inch that was between the two of them so he could glare at him for one thing or another. Honestly, he rarely really did anything questionable, but the ever irritated “Why?” that Mr. Hero always shot at him when he raised the price of an item or tacked on another fee, be it emotional repercussions charges for tending his wounds, or a petty increase when he’d been made to actually worry for someone else, or even in the rare instance when Mr. Hero managed to actually make him angry. Either way, soft or firm, Mr. Hero had nice hands, and on the rare instance Ravio had actually seen him remove his rings (Mr. Hero had complained of swelling, and had nearly had to pry them off) he always smiled at the sight of them.

Was that weird? Probably. But there was a lot you could tell about a person by their hands, and Mr. Hero’s told the story of someone who gave and fought for others since he’d been able, and even if the caring person hid behind the shadows of his bangs or the icy pain in his eyes, Ravio knew that person was still in there.

And at times like this, he got to actually see it.

“What are you doing?” The merchant shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at the other end of the couch where Mr. Hero had been sitting since he’d stumbled through the door with a tired groan. He’d collapsed onto the couch not long after, drenched and covered in mud, and it had been all Ravio could do to convince him to shed his extra layers and change into something clean, at least. Sure, he’d had to actually dig through the scant wardrobe in the bedroom to find something, but once the over-sized tunic had been shoved in the veteran hero’s face, he’d agreed to strip off his wet things, and Ravio had given him the space to do so while he’d made some warm cocoa for the two of them.

He would have preferred cider, but Mr. Hero still refused to share the recipe with him.

Now, however, he’d flopped onto the couch himself, uncaring for the fact that he’d had to settle his legs in the lap of his friend. After all, if Mr. Hero minded, he would have pushed him off. As was though, the pink-haired teen was staring at his feet with no small amount of displeasure, and Ravio was half considering pulling them back to himself and resigning himself to just curling up on the couch into one corner so he could give the other boy his space.

Firm hands latched around his boot, tugging with a small grunt and surprising the merchant greatly. “Mr. Hero, I just-”

“No shoes.” The pink-haired hero huffed. “Not on the couch.”

“Says the one who trudges dirt all over my freshly cleaned floors!” Ravio huffed, trying not to wiggle too much as Mr. Hero not only pulled off his shoes but, after making a disgusted face at the smell of his feet, had also yanked his socks off, throwing them over to the pile of sopping laundry on the floor. Ravio made a note to pick that up and help wash it later.

“My floors.” Mr. Hero corrected him, tugging the towel Ravio had given him earlier off of his shoulders and wiping its wet ends over the merchant’s feet, making him stiffen. “It’s my house I’ll have you know.”

“Mr. Hero, are you- are you cleaning my feet?”

“It’s not like you ever do it, when’s the last time you bathed, you filthy bunny?”

“Two days ago.” Ravio huffed into his cocoa, savoring the taste and the thrum of warmth that bloomed in his chest both at the drink and the sensation of Mr. Hero’s nimble fingers helping to clean the grime from his, admittedly, filthy feet. “More recently than you, I daresay, Mr. Hero.”

“I just showered.” Violet eyes flitted up to meet his as Mr. Hero motioned to the door ad likely the stormy weather outside.

“That doesn’t count!”

“It does for me.”

“When did you last bathe? With soap?”

Mr. Hero didn’t answer, instead continuing to rub the dirt and dust off the bottoms of his house-mate's feet with the wet towel. Ravio hmphed. A fight for another day then, it isn’t as if he had the energy to draw a bath and push his friend into it anyways.

A delightful, rough sensation rubbed over the base of his foot, firm and still somehow incredibly relaxing, and the bunny merchant found himself torn between sinking into the cushions with a sigh as some of the pain in his limbs faded and staring down at Mr. Hero to see what had been done. In the end, he’d sunk into the cushions of the couch, lids fluttering as a heavy sigh pulled itself from his lungs. “What-”

“You’re as tight-string as my gran’s horses.” Mr. Hero drawled, and the sensation repeated itself, warm pressure sliding across the ridge of his foot. “This used to work on my uncle, relax.”

It took longer than necessary to actually realize that his friend was rubbing his feet, but Ravio was too warm and comfortable to really care, especially with how sore the appendages in question had been with scurrying here and there over the last few days tending to the shop.

Mr. Hero’s hands were miracle workers, and Ravio was hardly even awake when the veteran hero had finally stopped with his self-assigned task, pushing himself up and leaving Ravio to stretch out over the length of the couch. All the merchant could register was the increase of weight on top of him, the clinking of two empty mugs being placed in the kitchen sink, and the door creaking open.

He never felt the draft when Mr. Hero left back into the outside world to continue his quest, but when he woke the next morning, it was to find the hero’s favorite blanket spread out over the top of him and a fresh pair of fuzzy socks slipped over his clean and no longer painfully tense feet.

“Ravio, sit.” Mr. Hero groaned, leaning back on the couch and pinned in place by the sailor using his legs as a back rest. “If you don’t, I swear I’m going to have Twilight throw you at the couch!”

The merchant in question pouted, he’d been trying his best to tidy the living room, after all, Mr. Hero and his family had been quite unexpected that evening and the place was, unfortunately, a mess. One had to take inventory now and again, and the sad fact of it was that that required pulling everything off the shelves and out of storage and from around the house to count it up and figure out if he should risk attempting to return to Lorule or attempting to work Mr. Hero’s small smithy out back in order to restock his items.

He’d only counted up everything and had been working on cleaning and polishing his various items when the heroes had come knocking at the front door, and then he’d been so busy helping them warm up from the chill (they were all wearing the scarves he’d given them and it pleased him to no end) and making a meal with Mr. Hero that he’d been left unable to finish gathering the things that had been scattered across the floor. Of course, after dinner was finished, he’d set right to it, but now that everyone was settled around the fire with warm mugs in hand and fluffy scarves around their necks, Mr. Hero seemed to only be agitated by his puttering about and moving everything again.

To be fair, he hadn’t stopped moving for the last thirty minutes since the others had helped gather his things back up so they could sit, but there was so much to put away!

“Mr. Hero, I still-”

“Sit.” Mr. Hero squeaked grouchily, earning a few giggles as Mr. Rancher and Mr. Chosen Hero exchanged glances, smiles wide. “My feet hurt just from looking at you.”

Like it or not, Ravio’s ears were already pricking up at those words.

Since that first time, Mr. Hero had done him the favor of massaging his feet after a hard day many times, and as much as Ravio didn’t want to expect it of him, it was incredibly nice to have someone fuss over him, if only for a little bit, and if there was even a chance that it would happen again, well...

It was entirely intentional that he flopped onto the couch, feet resting easily in Mr. Hero’s lap as he stretched out. He could have sat down, he really could, but the fact of it was that he simply didn’t want to. Fortunately, Mr. Hero didn’t seem to mind, and too the merchants delight his friend immediately started pulling off his shoes with the same old familiar huff and wrinkling of his button nose, tossing the shoes as far away as possible to avoid having to remain in contact with them for long.

It was a practiced and much appreciated ritual that was Mr. Hero helping him relax after a long day. Just as cocoa or cider was prepared when either was having a particularly long or difficult day, or how Ravio always made sure Mr. Hero ate three meals a day and slept for at least four hours, taking care that his friend wasn’t positioned too uncomfortably wherever it was that he finally passed out. Mr. Hero touching his feet was normal, just like him playing with Mr. Hero’s hair once the other boy had settled down at last.

Perhaps though, it wasn’t all that common for the others.

“Vet?”

Mr. Hero blinked up from his work, violet eyes meeting the midnight blue of Mr. Rancher impassively.

“What in Ordonia are ya doin’?”

The veteran hero cocked a brow. “Foot massage, he won’t relax otherwise, and foot pains a-” Captain Hero Sir Jr. shot a look their way and Mr. Hero quickly amended what he’d been about to say. “Foot pain sucks.”

“You are touching feet.” Mr. Rancher wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that a bit... gross?”

“Says the man who eats bee larva.” Came the quipped reply. “I wash them first, pities sakes.”

“By my head!?!?!?” Tune started jumping up and away and shooting Mr. Hero a hurt look. “Like, yeah, sure, I help Granny on bad days too, but warn a fellow if you’re gonna be having feet by his head.”

“Don’t sit on my legs.”

Ravio chuckled, letting the noise and chatter wash over him.

Mr. Hero’s hands never failed to sooth the pains of the day.

The heroes had stumbled in time and again over the months, and Ravio had grown quite used to their presence. Time passed differently on both ends of things, but he’d since learned when abouts to expect that they'd appear, and the house was, thankfully, stocked fully for each visit.

Autumn had brought about harvest, and the heroes had darted in and out, occasionally offering help and other times only crashing wearily in the living room and Mr. Hero’s bedroom for the night before they had to return to chasing the monsters. Today was one of the longer stays, especially if how Mr. Captain Hero Sir was moving so stiffly was any indication.

“Do you need me to step on you again?” Mr. Smithy asked worriedly as Mr. Captain Hero Sir eased his way down onto the couch, earning a few looks both from the merchant and the other heroes while Sheerow flitted about the man's head, chirruping worriedly and earning a gentle word or so from the captain.

Mr. Captain Hero Sir was in quite the state, stiff as a board and moving as poorly as the old pump in the village. It made him worried, and try as he might, he couldn’t think of any of his items that would help.

Mr. Hero appeared to already have an answer though. “Tunic off, Cap, and on the couch.”

Sharp blue blinked over in confusion to where Mr. Hero was already shedding his boots and rolling up his sleeves with a purpose. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Massage. Works wonders for back pain. Hop to it or I’m rescinding my offer.”

It was one thing to be on the receiving end of matters, but another entirely to be one of those who watched. Mr. Hero put his full weight into his hands as he worked, kneading out the knots in his friend's muscles while Mr. Captain Hero Sir melted into the couch with little relieved noises.

Maybe it took the others realizing that the vet didn’t just help him, but after that it wasn’t at all uncommon for him to carry in his attempts at cider or his wonderful cocoa and see Mr. Hero standing over one of the others and putting his clever hands to work in soothing tensed muscles back into place, the heroes under his hands melting under his touch.

The first time he heard Mr. Hero humming under his breath while he worked, the other heroes had all looked incredibly surprised, but not upset in the slightest. It was a lovely tune after all, and Tune himself started playing with his baton in time the gentle music, swaying in his seat and waving the instrument while the others continued working on repairing and tending their various items and clothing articles.

There was a pattern. For Mr. Captain Hero Sir it was his back, although rather rarely, and the same went for Mr. Chosen Hero.

For Captain Hero Sir Jr. It was his neck and shoulders.

Mr. Smithy got stress headaches that seemed to ease when someone helped message his temples.

Mr. Rancher had problems with his left wrist specifically.

Ravio of course had poor feet, and while Tune and Wild seemed to be mostly left unscathed from the repetitive pains that the others did, they took every opportunity to cling to Mr. Hero with their whole bodies when they felt that they wanted pets or attention when their mentor’s/brothers were too busy.

He’d attempted to return the favor all of one time. The black eye and bloody nose he got out of it weren’t even made better with the nearly tearful apologies of his best friend as Mr. Hero had jumped to his feet and dashed outside to get some ice for the injury.

Once the blood was cleaned up, the vet had sat in shame as Ravio had joined the others in teasing him for his “killer reflexes”.

“I can’t help it! People touching my feet- It-” Mr. Hero tugged at his hair frustratedly, eyes turning to the sky hopelessly. “I’m sorry, Ravio. It was an accident, I swear.”

“I know, Mr. Hero, I know.” He’d giggled out the reassurance, but from that day on he avoided touching Mr. Hero’s feet in any way possible.

(Oddly enough though, that didn’t stop a few of the others from trying, and Mr. Hero’s sleep was interrupted many times by heroes that had been kicked in the nose or even the mouth because they’d dared each other to touch the teen’s feet while he slept. Mr. Captain Hero Sir had complained for days until his own black eye healed, and Mr. Hero hadn’t even bother apologizing, stating that the others shouldn’t have tempted fat so foolishly.)

He felt a bit guilty for not returning the favor, but he knew better than to try again where so many others had failed.

And then winter had sprung up. Winter with its harsh gales that blew in half frozen heroes that tracked ice and snow across the floor as they bundled in front of the fire, wrapped head to toe for the weather. Winter when he’d brew hot cocoa to warm them all up, letting Mr. Hero tug down blankets to wrap around their on-and-off house-mates (guests no longer applied at this point). The mugs offered were warm, and Ravio smiled as each hero offered him a word of thanks as his tray grew lighter and lighter until he only had the two mugs left.

Mr. Hero had pulled together his usual nest before the fire. His huge blanket and a few spare pillows all bundled together into a comfortable place to sit for the younger heroes in order to make up for the lack of a second couch, and the vet sat in its center, still working to arrange the cushions with stiff fingers and chattering teeth until Ravio had pulled on his friend’s tunic and urged him to sit down.

When he offered the mug though, Mr. Hero had fumbled it and nearly dropped it, a hiss of irritation whishing from between his teeth and he glared down at his stiff digits. “Blast! Din’s sake, why does the freaking cold always freaking-”

Warm hands, worn from housekeeping and smithy work, wrapped around the vet’s as Ravio gently rubbed some warmth back into the stiff fingers. Mr. Hero started slightly at the touch, but didn’t complain as the merchant continued to press his into the rises and against the bones of his friend’s gnarled hands, offering warmth and relief against the pain and the cold both for a few short minutes, and Mr. Hero melted into the touch, as he always inevitably did, letting Ravio have his way for the moment and leaning to sit back-to-back with Wild while the merchant worked.

When he’d released his housemate, it’d only been to press a mug into the vet’s hands, but then he’d been settling across from him on the blanket nest, stockinged feet coming to rest in his friend’s lap as he’d pulled his own mug close for a sip. Violet eyes offered a begrudging smile that was returned in rupee green, but no words were spoken between the two as they enjoyed their cocoa.

Mr. Captain Hero Sir however wasn’t about to let it pass. “So, hand holding now, uh? Should I be talking to Fable about a wedding day?”

Ravio was certain that the only thing keeping some very rude signs from being exchanged as the fact that Mr. Hero wasn’t willing to stress his hands further or release the warmth that he held in them. The pink-haired hero did shoot a very disappointed look towards the captain though.

[staticscreenwriting]

Love like the movies // Bucky Barnes // 6

SIX - GHOST

Trigger warning: Alcohol, food, mention of sex (nothing graphic and no actual smut)

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

"You held hands?"

"Mmh."

"And then you cuddled."

"We didn't cuddle, I was just kind of - leaning into him. Sort of."

"So you cuddled!"

"Sure. If that's what you wanna call it. We cuddled."

"Then what?" Robin inquires. Smirking at (Y/N) over the rim of her wine glass, like a giddy pre-teen waiting for the kissing scene to come up in a romance movie.

"And nothing. That's it."

"Oh come oooon. You cozied up to each other and then just what - acted like it never happened?"

"Essentially. But that's okay. It's not a big deal. And don't say it like that."

"Like what?" Robin continues to poke and by this point, it's not so much her wanting information than her trying to rile up (Y/N). Though she's very well aware of this, (Y/N) falls for it anyway.

"Cozied up to each other," (Y/N) says and scrunches her nose up in distaste. "Like we had dirty sex or something."

"Do you want to have dirty sex with him? Oh man, imagine what that arm can do."

Holding her hand out to stop her best friend from talking, (Y/N) takes a big gulp of white wine, emptying her glass. This is a conversation that can't be held entirely sober. "First of all, don't say those things about his arm. It's- I don't know. It doesn't sit right with me."

"Sorry yeah that was … not cool" Robin apologizes and by the tone of her voice (Y/N) can tell she means it.

"I'm the first to admit that Bucky is insanely handsome and if things were different, sure. But we're friends and I really enjoy the time spent together and our friendship. I don't wanna do anything to jeopardize it or ruin it by adding unnecessary feelings to it."

"Feelings aren't unnecessary," Robin replies, combing her fingers through her fiery red curls.

"Sometimes they are. The last thing Bucky and I need is broken hearts and ruined friendships."

"What if it doesn't end that way?"

"Relationships never work out well for me, you know that."

Robin places her glass on the countertop. It means whatever talk is gonna follow, it'll be a serious one. There's been very little need for a serious talk between the girls over the time they've been friends but neither of them has ever been afraid to start those conversations and say things as they are. Sometimes that's what friendship is, being blunt even if it's not what your friend wants to hear.

"Look I'm not saying you have to take the relationship to another level. If this is making you happy the way it is, then that's all that matters to me. I just don't want you to give up on something that could be great, because you're scared and because some stupid assholes in the past didn't realize what they had in you."

Where she's only had shit luck with relationships, (Y/N) thinks she's really lucked out in the friend department. Robin is as wonderful as they come. Even if she drives her crazy sometimes.

"They weren't all assholes." (Y/N) chimes up weakly though there's not even enough determination in her voice to convince herself.

"Weren't they? Let's see ...I'm not even gonna talk about Russel. He doesn't count. Who else was there? Pete liked to show you off but he didn't like you. Did he?"

"Not really."

"See? Asshole! Kylie only wanted to be with you so she could be the cool girl who's fucked another girl once and use that as something to brag to the guys about."

"She was figuring herself out."

"She was straight, babe. She was using you and your sexuality as some kind of badge of honor so guys would think she's cool. She only wanted to make out with you at parties and when there were men around to ogle you. I’m the last person to blame anyone for trying to figure out who they are and who they like but that wasn’t the case here. She used you, and what does that make her?"

“ An asshole? “

“ An asshole!”

“ What about Ricky, he wasn’t an asshole! “ (Y/N) chimes in, filling her glass up once more.

“ Okay sure but he was your High School sweetheart and that rarely lasts. I’m not gonna count him. What about Mike —“

“— Okay, you’ve made your point. I have a bad taste in romantic partners, I get it. Doesn’t change anything. Me and Bucky we’re — we’re good as we are. No romance needed.”

“ Just don’t want you to miss out on something great.”

It’s not that the thought has never crossed her mind. In fact, when she’s being really honest to herself, it swirls around her head a lot. When he grants her one of his smiles. The rare ones that make his eyes crinkle. Or when he comes to see her and brings dog treats for Lady, just because he’s that thoughtful. Or when she noticed he put a popcorn and a sun emoji next to her name in his phone. The popcorn, as he said because she liked movies and the sun because she’s always happy and smiling. Or when he held her hand throughout the entire movie. Those are moments when (Y/N) thinks about what it would be like to be more than friends.

“ It’s great as it is now. He’s great.”

“ Then that’s all that matters to me.” Robin smiles. She has one of those smiles that makes you feel at home. Comfortable and soft. Like warm milk with honey a mom makes their child when they can’t sleep.

It’s a while later, when (Y/N) strolls back into the room, another bottle of wine in hand, that a knock sounds on her front door. Her eyes wander to Robin then to the door then back. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

“ Oh, that’s Bucky.” Robin, who’s by now migrated over to (Y/N)’s huge fluffy couch, Lady cuddled onto her lap, says with the most casual of tones (Y/N) has ever heard. As if Bucky and her have been lifelong friends. As if there is nothing strange or peculiar about this situation.

“ How do you know?”

Robin shrugs and goes back to petting Lady’s curly fur. “ He texted you when you were getting the wine. Said he was around and had food. I told him to come join us for movie night. What’s the big deal? “

“ I uh — it’s not I just — you could’ve told me. “

“ That was literally 5 minutes ago babe. I had no time to tell you yet. By the way, this man uses entirely too many emojis.”

A smile pulls on the corners of (Y/N)’s lips. She’s asked him once why he never used any emojis, or smileys as he called them (all of them — even the ones that aren’t faces). He told her he didn’t really understand when to use most of them, like the shrimp or the Hockey stick. (Y/N) told him it’s because they’re fun. Ever since then he uses all kinds of emojis with her. None really relating to his messages. It’s quite endearing if she’s being honest.

“ Are you gonna let him in? “ Robin asks, shaking (Y/N) out of her thoughts.

The smell of Chinese food floods into the apartment as (Y/N) opens her door to Bucky. He looks so effortlessly cool in his leather jacket and boots. With his hair a little longer now, all swoopy and quiffed. Like the bad boy straight from a romance novel. The one with a heart of gold. The one that gets the girl.

(Y/N) is not that girl, the one from the novels, the Hallmark movies. The one that’s quirky but never weird. The one that makes all the boys fall for her. She’s not the main character, at least according to herself. She’s the side character that shows up like twice. The one that helps the main character on their quest to self-discovery or true love. That’s who she is. Not more, not less.

“ I brought food!” Bucky exclaims as he steps inside, waving the bag around before placing it on the kitchen counter, to which Lady jumps up from her position on Robin’s lap.

Lady, (Y/N) has realized a while ago, has somehow fallen head over paws in love with Bucky. Always following him, looking up at him with her big brown puppy eyes. Always looking to be close to him. Maybe, (Y/N) thinks, it’s the treats he always carries around. But maybe it’s Bucky too and his patience and his affection and the way he greets the little dog like she’s the main reason he’s come around.

Moments like this, they come with those little flutters around the heart. People always compare them to butterflies. (Y/N) thinks that’s wrong. Butterflies are gentle, graceful, and soft. This feels like a swarm of bees. Chaotic. Overwhelming. A little bit scary.

“ Man, did you plan on coming here, or did you buy all this for yourself?” Robin asks, eyes wide in surprise at the sheer amount of styrofoam containers Bucky keeps pulling from the bags.

“ I kind of bought it with the intention of sharing, yeah. “

Robin’s eyes meet (Y/N)’s across the room and there's a silent secret there, hidden in her teasing smirk. One shared only with a friend. No words. No sounds. Just the truth and two knowing hearts connecting.

“ Am I intruding? If you guys want me to leave, I can leave. “

While he tries to keep his voice casual, the sad tint doesn’t get lost on (Y/N).

“ Absolutely not, don’t be silly. We’re just drinking wine and watching a movie and you are free to join us in both.”

While he shakes his head at her offer of wine, Bucky helps (Y/N) bring the food over to the couch and plops down in the middle of the couch, Robin to his right and (Y/N) on his left.

“ What are we watching? “ he asks, a dumpling already on the way into his mouth.

“ Well, “ Robin responds filling her glass up once more, “ it was (Y/N)’s turn to chose so —”

“ A rom-com”

“ A rom-com. “

Something about seeing these two interact and joke around inspires a fuzzy feeling to wrap itself around (Y/N)’s heart. Even if they’re making fun of her.

The way Bucky fits in here, as if it’s where he’s always belonged. The way he’s not a stranger imposing but a friend added to the mix. It’s a nice feeling. She hopes he feels it too.

“ Okay, whatever. This isn’t your usual rom-com though, there are ghosts in this one. “

“ Is it ghosts falling in love?” Robin asks and lets her laugh get swallowed by her wine glass.

“ No. Well — uh kinda but not really. They fall in love be — you know what, just start the damn movie! “

There’s an undeniable intimacy in watching your favorite movies with other people. It’s like giving away little pieces of yourself and sharing them with others. No matter how insignificant it may seem to anyone else but you. These are the things that make us who we are. Our passions. For art. For music. For books. For movies. And opening up is always scary. Even if it’s just a teeny tiny bit.

Through the corner of her eye (Y/N) glances at Bucky and Robin, trying to judge their reactions. See if they’re enjoying themselves or not. Bucky displays his ever-present scowl. It’s the default setting. Sometimes she wonders if that has always been the case. If that's just what he looks like or if years of abuse, horror, pain have left their marks on him, on not only his heart but also his face.

Maybe this can be his safe place, she thinks. Maybe she can be. Not someone to fix him, because he’s not broken, just lost. Not to fix but to hold his hand while he heals. Slowly but surely.

For a while, the three sit in comfortable silence. The kind that fills you with this inexplicable calm. Where no words are needed.

And then the beginning chords of unchained melody spill from the tv speakers. It’s a touch there, a kiss here, hands covered in clay. Bodies covered in clay. Gasps and heavy breathing. Hands grasping skin, wandering, loving.

Robin’s presence falls completely to the back of (Y/N)’s mind. Bucky’s however...

“Do you want to have dirty sex with him? “ her friend's words ghost through her head like a particularly annoying jingle for some tv ad. The room feels warm all of a sudden. Not warm — boiling. There’s a heat radiating from her right, from Bucky. So what if he’s attractive. So what if she sometimes lets her mind wander and think about how his hands would feel on her skin or his lips on hers or his — yeah okay you get the point. So what?

Bucky slumps down into the couch a little more with every second of steamy pottery sex that’s fluttering across the tv screen. Is he — nervous? Uncomfortable ? No, she must be imagining it. Projecting, that’s what this is. She’s projecting her own chaotic emotional state onto him. There’s nothing there. (Y/N) has to remind herself. Just secret little thoughts that have to be kept between her and her. As long as no one knows, no one gets hurt. It’s the easy way out. The safe way. The right way.

Right?

“ Sooo, what did you guys think?” (Y/N) asks, turning her body towards her friends and sitting criss-cross on the couch.

“ Didn’t expect all the murder. “ Bucky replies as he takes a sip from his beer. “ And the — “

“ The messy sex! I know.” a visibly intoxicated Robin cuts in.

“ Not where I was going but okay.”

She doesn’t pay his words any attention, instead of launching herself backwards over the arm of the couch, dramatically fanning herself with her perfectly manicured hand. “ I am not going to lie, oh boy that was some hot stuff. Wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Oh please,” (Y/N) chimes in, wine glass clutched in hand and smile on her face. She can clearly feel the alcohol washing through her system bringing her to the place between sober and drunk where everything feels light and your confidence seems to get a little extra boost. “ What do you have to complain about? You’re getting married in two weeks! I’m sure you get enough action as it is. “

Robin doesn’t answer right away, just throws (Y/N) a giddy, boozed-up smile. Though in her eyes, there’s a loved-up glimmer of someone about to marry the love of their life.

“ Yeah, that’s true.”

“See, so you’re not the one that should be complaining. Us, however…”

Her red curls swing around her like a spark of fire as Robin sits up again, pointing her finger at (Y/N).

“ And whose fault is that? You could be getting some if you didn’t get so lost in your romantic fantasies. And him — “ the red-haired girl exclaims before pointing her finger towards Bucky “ don’t even tell me he ain’t getting some. Look at him! Are you sexually active, Bucky? “

“ You don’t have to answer that. Robin, come on.”

“ No, you don’t have to but you should. I’m trying to prove a point. Help me prove a point, Bucky. “

“ You’re making him uncomfortable. “

“ Am I making him uncomfortable or you? “

“ Ooookay, I think it’s time for you to go to bed. “

“ Nooo, we’re having a conversation. “

“ Would you look at that, my drink is empty. I’m just gonna — I’m gonna get another one. Okay? Okay.”

Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer before getting up and rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable. Clearly embarrassed.

“ See what you did? You scared him off. “

“ I couldn’t scare that man off if I tried. Trust me. “ Robin murmurs, a loud yawn cutting through her argument. There’s a certain determination in her words though. Some truth hidden in there that (Y/N) can’t quite put her finger on. It’s like Robin knows something she doesn’t. And maybe it’s good this way. Maybe she doesn’t need to know.

“ Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, Tipsy. I’ll go see what he’s up to. You go the fuck to sleep.”

“ Whatever mom, “ Robin bickers and cuddles closer into the soft couch anyway. “ Oh, don’t forget to invite him! I like him. We’re friends now. “

“ Go to sleep! “ (Y/N) orders again, earning herself a salute from her best friend who starts snoring no more than 2 seconds later.

He feels like a 13-year-old. Actually — no. Things were easier at 13. Situations like this one were easier at 13. Being horny was easier at 13.

It was all new to him then, yes, but it was new for everyone at 13. He’s 106 now, a grown man. He should be able to talk or at least think about these things without turning into a full-blown mess. His hand is clammy, his face is probably the same shade of bright red as Robin’s hair. And by god, his thoughts are a jumbled mess, swirling around all over the place.

Truth be told, he hasn’t had a lot of time to actually think about anything even remotely physical. It was never very high on his list of things to figure out and the opportunity hasn’t really presented itself to him either. Not since the 1940s at least.

Have things changed? Surely not, right? Maybe people got a bit more experimental and for sure they talk more openly about it now but the fundamentals must have stayed the same. He sure hopes so at least.

His thoughts get interrupted as (Y/N) steps into the kitchen. Her eyes are slightly glassed over from the wine though she’s nowhere near as drunk as Robin. She seems happy, then again she always does. For a little moment, he feels jealousy wash over him. About being able to get drunk. It’s damn stupid, he’s well aware. But that doesn’t make his feelings less valid. To just drink and let go and forget, that sounds really nice.

But that’s just one of the things the serum has taken from him. By far not the worst aspect of it all but unpleasant either way.

“ Hey uh — you okay? “ she asks leaning against the kitchen island across from him.

“ Sure. Are you? “

“ I uh — might be a little drunk, “ (Y/N) confesses as she lifts her hand and indicates a tiny space with her fingers.

“ Yeah, I think you might be.” Bucky laughs. Actually laughing comes naturally when she’s around and quite honestly, at first, it made him feel guilty. Guilty about the fact that he got to laugh along with a pretty girl while so many people had to die through his hands.

He tries to push those thoughts away. They aren’t doing anyone any good. Not him and not those people either.

“ Hey, I’m sorry she was making you uncomfortable. She gets — well she has no filter when drunk. Or ever really.”

Bucky shakes his head. His finger nervously trails along the grain of the stone countertop. There are conversations he needs to have, sooner or later, if he wants to live his life. Not just coast along but actually live. But it doesn’t mean those come easy. Not for someone who’s been through all he’s been through. Not for someone who’s grown up the way he has, who’s been raised the way he has.

“ Ah, no. Don’t worry. I uh — I just. It’s been a long time since I had talks like this. “

“ Like what? “

“ Between friends, you know. About — stuff. “

“ About sex? “

“ Mmh. “

“ You don’t have to talk about it with us if you don’t want to. It’s fine. “

“ No, but I do want to talk about sex with you. I mean — not you, you. You both. But not in a weird way. I mean — with friends. “

“ Okay. “

“ It’s just that I was raised in different times and the last time I had a real actual friend that I talked to about intimate things was so long ago. Steve and I talked about everything and even then there used to be reservations. One because I don’t think Steve really wanted details and two because Steve wasn’t — he didn’t have the most experience when it came to women so it was a very one-sided conversation. And I’ve never talked about any of this with a girl. It’s all new to me but I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you. “

(Y/N) regards him with a glimmer of amusement and mischief in her eyes as she munches away on some cold leftover spring rolls.

“ You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Buck. I know you trust me, I hope you know I trust you. “

He does. And he doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him Buck.

“ So, Robin and Charlie are getting married in two weeks. I was wondering if you’d like to be my plus one. Back when they announced it I was under the impression Russel and I would be a thing by then but uh — clearly that didn’t happen. It’s in upstate New York. We’re all gonna stay at this gorgeous Inn and well there’s a spot open if you want it.”

“ As a plus one? “

No matter how much he wants to deny it to himself, his heart does a little flutter as she says those words. A plus one sounds like something. He’s not sure what but something, surely.

“ Yeah, as a friend, obviously. “

“ Obviously. “

There goes the flutter.

“ Robin is okay with it by the way. She explicitly told me to ask you.”

“ So Robin wants me there, not you. “

“ No! I want you there! I love spending time with you. Also, Robin’s family is crazy. I need you by my side. I need you there. I want you there. “

“The need to be needed is an individual’s sense of significance rooted in the sense of being part of a community or cause beyond themselves. The need to be needed is one of our fundamental desires. We want to feel significant in the eyes of others, even if it is only one other person. “

Bucky has read those words in one of the many magazines stacked on the little side table in the waiting room of Dr. Raynor's office. They didn’t really make much sense to him then. He always thought he’d be fine by himself.

In that moment he realizes that was all a big pile of absolute bullshit.

The feeling of being wanted, of being needed, even if it’s just one person that needs him, that means everything.

“ Okay, I’ll come. “

“ Yeah? “

And there it is again, the smile that reminds him of the sun. The smile that he’s sure could bring a thousand men to their knees, including himself.

“ Cool. I’m — I’m really happy about that. “

“ Mmh. Me too. “

For a moment they just look at each other, words unspoken swirling in the air between them, neither brave enough to let them slip from their tongue.

It’s not until a particularly loud snore coming from the living room pops the bubble and breaks the spell.

Both of them fall into giggles before Bucky speaks up again.

“ It's late I should probably go. “

“ Yeah and I should go to bed. I’ll have a hangover tomorrow for sure.”

Bucky slips into his leather jacket and places a soft kiss goodbye on Lady’s head before turning back to (Y/N).

“ For the record, I’m not getting any. “

“ I uh — okay. Good. Well not good, “ (Y/N) stumbles over her words “ not good for you. Good for me. I mean. Not that I don’t want you to have sex. But I mean, Robin was taking the piss, and if I don’t get laid it makes me feel better to know you aren’t either. Oh god, this sounds horrible. I’m just gonna stop talking now. “

Bucky smiles the brightest smile she’s ever seen him smile, it almost breaks his face in two. And even though she wants the ground to swallow her whole right then, if it puts a smile like that on his face, she’ll gratefully embarrass herself again.

“ Have a good night, (Y/N). “

“ You too, Bucky”

And with a kiss to her head, he leaves the flat, a smile staying on his lips the entire way home.

“ Why did I have to come again? This is a bachelorette party, I thought men aren’t allowed. “ Bucky grumbles as (Y/N) parks her truck in the parking lot of the convenience store. The pink and blue neon lights reflect on the wet asphalt.

“ It’s a shared party. We’re all friends so it makes sense for the couple to celebrate together. Stop moaning. “ (Y/N) exclaims as her heels create a click-clack sound.

The store is empty as they enter except for the bored-looking teenager leaning against the counter by the cash register.

There’s something about empty stores at night that makes it feel like time stands still. Like for a moment, reality is altered. There’s only you and the outdated music coming from the speakers and the hum of the refrigerators holding the soda cans.

“ I can’t believe Hannah forgot to bake the cake. It’s all she had to do. I did everything else, everything. She had one job. “

Bucky’s learned by now to just let her rant about this topic. It’s all she’s talked about for the last hours since Hannah, public enemy number one that day, has called her to inform her she’s forgotten about the cake. Why there needs to be a cake at this party, Bucky doesn’t know but hey, who is he to question it.

(Y/N) walks straight over to the counter that holds the bakery items only to be met with disappointment.

“ Well great. We can choose between one single cupcake, a box of stale donuts, and a croissant. “

“ What about this one? “ Bucky asks and points towards a bright pink cake decorated with candy roses and white icing.

“ It says Happy Birthday. “

“ Ah, don’t worry we can fix that.”

(Y/N) raises her eyebrows in doubt. “ You sure? “

“ 100%. Trust me. “

She regards him for a moment, uncertainty shining through, before granting him a little smile and a nod. “ Okay then. You get the cake, I’ll be over there for a second. “

Looking through the fridges, (Y/N)’s eyes fall onto a pack of popsicles in the shape of Captain America’s shield.

Ripping open the fridge door she calls out “ Hey Grumpy, would you like thes— “

All she hears is a smack and then Bucky’s voice exclaiming a loud “Fuck!”

And in that moment she doesn’t know what’s more shocking, the fact that she just slammed the door right into his face or hearing him swear.

“ Are you okay? I’m so sorry. “

“ I’ll be fine.”

“ We gotta put ice on it. “

“ No (Y/N) I — “

She’s already on her way to get a pack of frozen peas. And if Bucky is being real honest, his cheek does hurt quite a bit. Super Soldier Serum and all …

“ I am genuinely so sorry. “

Bucky sits on the bed of (Y/N)’s truck, frozen peas pressed to his face and a chuckle falling from his lips as (Y/N) sends yet another apology his way.

“ It’s okay, (Y/N). I told you, I’m fine. “

He pulls the peas away from his face and places them next to him, before picking up the cake and lifting the plastic lid off of the container.

“ Alright, let’s see if I can fix this. “

“ You have a bruise on your cheek. “

Bucky looks up at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his, that (Y/N) sometimes finds herself drowning in. Calm and story all at once. Like oceans.

“ Does it make me look rough and handsome? “

“ You’re always handsome. But yes, it gives you a roguish charm. “

“ Good. “

(Y/N) feels a heat rush to her face as Bucky focuses back on the cake.

“ Mmmkay. Let me see. What if we — “ Bucky murmurs, more to himself than to (Y/N). He swipes his finger, sans glove, over the white icing letters and while there’s a good intention there, when he lifts his finger back up the cake looks like a downright mess.

“ Ta-da “ he exclaims and turns the cake towards her.

“ It says Happy day now “

“ Is it not a happy day? “ Bucky asks, eyebrows raised in question.

“ Let me rephrase that. It says ‘Happy messy white stain Day’ “

Bucky pulls his lips into a grimace, eyes wandering from (Y/N) down to the cake and back to her. “ Yeah, we can’t bring that “.

Laughter fills the air as they regard the sad mess of a cake before them. If this was a movie, (Y/N) thinks, this would be their moment. The one where they realize. The one that feels like time stops and all that matters is them.

Something wet and sticky against her cheek pulls her from her daydream.

“ What the hell? “

Bucky only grins at her. There’s the boyish charm again. It’s so insanely endearing to see these little moments flare up and push through the perpetual gloom he seems to carry with him. He doesn't hold the weight of 90 years of fighting on his shoulders right then.

“ Oh you didn’t “

Before Bucky can react she grabs a handful of the cake and smashes it against the uninjured side of his face.

“ Is that how you wanna play it? Okay. Fine. “

Cake flies through the air as their laughter rings through the night. Not a thought wasted on pain, on worries, on heartbreak.

The rooftop bar (Y/N) booked specifically for this night is covered in fairy lights and glitter decor. There’s a karaoke machine in one corner and an open bar in the other.

A loud cheer sounds from the crowd as Robin steps out into the open, fingers intertwined with those of a petite brunette with big square glasses sitting on her nose.

They get swallowed by a tidal wave of people, pulled from one hug into another, and while his eyes stay with them, Bucky feels a touch against his metal arm. (Y/N) wraps herself around him leans her head against his shoulder and stares lovingly at the couple before them.

“ I’m so glad she’s happy. I love her so much. “

“ She loves you too. “ he says.

And really how could anyone not?

A little while later, when the crowd has allowed them to breathe again, Robin and the brunette wander towards Bucky and (Y/N), matching smiles on their faces.

“ Buck, this is Charlie, Robin’s fiancee. Charlie, this is my friend Bucky. “

“ It’s so nice to meet you,” Charlie exclaims, a strong English accent dripping from her words. “ What in the world happened to your face? Are you okay? “

While Bucky smirks, (Y/N) flinches at those words and shrinks into herself a little.

“ Oh you know, funny story. Someone here was a little too excited about some red white and blue popsicles. “

Robin lets out a loud laugh “ Now that sounds like someone I know very well. “

“ They were shaped like Cap’s shield, okay. I thought it was funny and fitting. “

Charlie’s eyes move between the 3, a look of confusion settling on her features.

“ Why fitting? “

“ Oh babe, let me catch you up,” Robin says and steers Charlie in the direction of the bar.

The night flies by and for the first time in so long, Bucky doesn’t feel out of place. Not for a single moment. Even being surrounded by people he doesn’t know and while listening to music he doesn’t get. It’s nice, feeling like you belong.

Robin and Charlie have just finished their karaoke rendition of Don’t Stop Believing when a familiar voice echoes from the speakers.

“ Hello guys, my name is (Y/N). You may know me, I’m the maid of honor. I am responsible for this party — you’re welcome. Anyway, I guess it’s my turn to sing tonight but I can’t do this one alone. I’m gonna require my friend, Mr. James Buchanan Barnes up on this very stage with me. “

Oh no. Definitely no. Not in a million years. No w—

“ Because this one’s a duett. “

Her eyes meet his across the way, shining with amusement, mischief, affection. Even across the dimly lit roof, her sunshine smile seems to light up the entire night.

“ I’m not doing it, “ Bucky says and shakes his head as Robin slides up to his side.

“ C’moooon. “

“ Nope. I probably don’t even know the song. “

It’s like the universe wants to make a fool of him as in just that moment Bill Medley’s voice sounds through the night.

“ I know you know this song. “ Robin says and nudges his side “ come on don’t make her do this by herself. “

“ I — “ he looks at (Y/N) again, with her sunshine smile and those expressive eyes and the buttercream stain on her shirt. And he doesn’t see fear or pain or regret. All he ever sees when he looks at her is happiness and fun and laughter.

“ Ugh. Okay. Alright. “

Cheers follow him as he steps on stage and (Y/N) hands him the second mic. Though it’s supposed to be a duett, (Y/N) doesn’t really care and sings both parts with unfiltered joy and unapologetic passion. And while it takes a moment for him to warm up to it, Bucky can’t help but let her enthusiasm light a spark in him too and by the time the pre-chorus hits he joins her in singing their hearts out.

“ You're the one thing I can't get enough of. So I'll tell you something. This could be looooooove “

New York comes alive with the promise of a better tomorrow. One where Bucky feels like he belongs. To a place or a group of friends or a person. A tomorrow where he can laugh with a pretty girl, have food fights in a parking lot, and sing some silly song at the top of his lungs.

Maybe the song isn’t all wrong. Maybe he’s having the time of his life. And maybe, just maybe, he owes it to (Y/N).

Taglist // if you want to be added or taken off just message me :) //:

@zaynyierulez - @je-like-you - @dracoxxyoflam - @jackiehollanderr - @majo240820 - @kay-gilles -@booksb4looksstuff - @jckie94 - @charmed-asylum - @shawnie--jo - @yllwtaxi - @tailsoflightning - @giuliarogers - @mangoogirl - @gerim-1995 - @elen-alambil - @threeminutesoflife - @writeroutoftime - @buckybarn3s - @rosaline-black - @kenziekugler22 - @vghz82

[amxranthiine]

c i c a t r i z e (aragorn x reader) pt. ii

cicatrize (v.) to find healing by the process of forming scars. Pronouns: She/Her 

 A/N: Welcome to part two! I’ve been working on this part for three days and it was getting a little long, so I saved Weathertop for chapter three. This chapter is 2.7k (or more) words. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Some swearing, alcohol consumption, Nazgûl, the usual. Summary: Y/n is Aragorn’s childhood best friend. However, when they got older, Y/n’s feelings towards her long time friend changed, but he is infatuated with the Evenstar. Out of heartbreak, she leaves Rivendell and sets off on her own, leaving her love and all she ever knew. When Elrond’s Council takes place, Y/n is forced back to her home and everything she ever knew.

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙  Present Time Y/n POV Ale dribbled down my chin as I gulped down what seemed to be my hundredth Pint. In truth, I lost count after my... sixth? Seventh? I needed to drink away my sorrows after the day I had. I received a letter from Gandalf the Grey when the sun was at it’s peak, babbling on about the One Ring, how it was in the hands of a Hobbit named Baggins, and how I needed to make my way to the Prancing Pony in Bree as soon as possible. And, of course, that I needed to keep a look out for the Hobbit in the Prancing Pony, and bring him to Rivendell. What a way to start the day, I had only awoken not an hour prior!

Gods, I needed a drink. After the initial shock of knowing that the One Ring had indeed been found, I, not so happily, packed my few possessions into a warn out bag and went on my merry way.  After leaving Rivendell almost seven decades ago, I had travelled all across Middle Earth, never staying in one place for too long. Though it’s been sixty-seven years since I left my entire life behind (in more than one way), I was still frightened- or was it ashamed? Ashamed. Yes, that was it. I was ashamed of how I left, why I left. Just leaving everything I’ve ever known because I was jealous and heartbroken. Over a guy! Only, he wasn’t just any guy. Yes, he is. I am and have been over him. Are you absolutely positive? No. Exactly.  Fine, I admit! But how could I get over someone I’ve known since I learned how to walk? Not so easily, it seems. Perhaps that was why I was sulking in the Prancing Pony, downing ale after ale, trying to ignore the pure dread of having to see him again. Maybe he won’t be there? Maybe his adventures led him elsewh- My “what if’s” and “maybe’s” were cut short by a large shadow looming over me. Peering up at the owner of said shadow with the mug raised to my lips, I nearly choke at the sight. There he is, the man who has haunted my dreams for sixty-seven years. And, oh Valar, he aged like the finest Mirkwood wine. Sobering up immediately, I quickly placing the mug on the table and wipe my mouth with my sleeve, I greet him with a quiet “Hello?” Though, it sounds more like a question.

He doesn’t greet me in return, much to my pleasure. He just gestures to the seat next to me. “May I?” I numbly nod, though my eyes don’t leave him. Once he is seated, I glance down at my hands and take a deep breath. “What are you doing here, Aragorn?” My tone takes him off guard, it’s cold, hostile. As if I was talking to a stranger, which, in a way, he was. His face holds nothing but shock, with traces of hurt within the grey depths of his eyes. “Business from Gandalf,” Aragorn mumbles as he waves down a waitress. I look at him again, but this time I notice everything that’s changed about him. His hood is up, covering his eyes for all but me. His face is more defined, and there is a trace of stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s buffer, too. His muscles are prominent even under his many layers of clothing. I would be a liar if I said he didn’t look good. However, he also looked... nostalgic. Memories upon memories rushed to the front of my brain as I relived what we used to be.  Oh, Mandos, I think I’m catching feelings. Again. “It’s been a while, Y/n.” I blink, looking away from him with a blush. You foolish woman, Y/n! He most definitely knows you were checking him out.  Clearing my throat, I simply say “Yeah,” and look around for the Hobbit I’m supposed to be watching for. I could his gaze burning into the side of my head, watching my intently.  “You left without saying goodbye,” he mentions with an edge to his tone. I sigh and close my eyes, I really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. Or ever. Never would be good.  “Didn’t think you’d care.” I said, shrugging. Good going, Y/n. Is that really the only intelligent thing you could come up with in that tiny head of yours? In my peripheral vision I see him tense, and his eyes widen considerably. What did he expect me to say? That I was sorry for leaving all those years ago? That I was so desperately in love with him that the sight of him embracing Arwen Undómiel was too much to bear? No, my pride could never admit that, especially not now. “You didn’t think I would care? Y/n, are you ins-” Aragorn starts with what sounds like a hiss.  I hold my finger up to shush him as four Hobbits walk into the Inn, soaked to the bone. The leader, a tall-ish Hobbit with curly black hair, approaches the bar and I can practically feel the evil radiating off of him in waves. I knew he was the one I was looking out for, he was Baggins.  Aragorn gives me a ‘we will talk about this later’ look, yet still follows my gaze. His body language changes drastically when he spots the small men and I instantly know we were sent here for the same reason. “Gandalf sent us on the same quest, it seems.” I mumble as my eyes follow the Hobbit’s every move. Something was... off about them, ignoring the presence of the Ring. They seemed nervous, as though they were waiting for someone. Baggins, or Underhill, as he was called, looked exhausted. The true weight of the Ring was finally making itself known.  As the four sat down at a table in the middle of the room, my eyes wandered over Underhill’s companions. The blonde next to him was on the bigger side, he had unruly curls as all Hobbits do, and he seemed the to the more cautious one out of his companions. The two across from him carried a carefree and youthful energy, both with almost golden hair.  The blonde one looked around the room with distrust before his eyes landed on Aragorn and I. We were watching them carefully, Aragorn had his pipe in his mouth, and I held my mug snuggly within my fingers. I suppose our watchful gazes set off alarms in the small Hobbit’s head. He elbowed Underhill and whispered something to him, nodding his head towards the two of us. Underhill eyed us, I could see the suspicion and fear growing within him as he took in our appearances. Suddenly, he gestured to Butterbur as he passed by, and over the loudness of the Inn, I barely heard him ask, “The two in the corner, who are they?” Butterbur glanced at us warily before replying, “They’re two of them Rangers; dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What their right names are, I’ve never heard, but round here they’re known as Strider and Randir.” Underhill looked at us again, “Strider and Randir,” he seemed to whisper as he nervously played with something under the table. Time seemed to slow as the younger one of the golden haired Hobbits seemed to yell for all the world to hear, “Baggins? Sure I know a Baggins!” Every pair of eyes flew to the young Hobbit, but he seemed oblivious for he kept speaking.  “He’s over there, Frodo Baggins!” He pointed to Underhill, “He’s my second cousin, once removed, on his mother’s side and my third cousin, twice removed on his father’s side... if you follow me.” I sighed deeply and watched as Frodo raced to the golden haired boy, gripping his arm and shouting, “Pippin!” “Steady on, Frodo!” Pippin says, then pushes Frodo away. Frodo stumbled back, losing his balance on one of the many pairs of feet crowded around him. He falls, the Ring flying out of his pocket as gravity takes control. Aragorn and I watch with steady eyes, we could not let anyone near the small, childlike creatures. You never know who may be a spy, waiting, like a jaguar, for the precise moment to pounce. A small hand reaches out to grab the evil jewel, but it just slips through his fingers a moment too late. I wince as Frodo hits the ground, a loud “oomph!” leaving his mouth at impact. Though, my eyes never leave the jewel that seems to be calling my name, tugging at my heartstrings, as it made it’s graceful down a child sized finger.  The owner of said finger was none other than Frodo, and the entire Inn gasped in horror as he vanished from sight. There is complete silence for a moment, and Aragorn and I jolt up, preparing ourselves for the chaos that is to come. And chaos it is. Excited, and slightly horrified, chatter explodes throughout the Prancing Pony. I look to each of the Hobbits once more. The blonde hobbit is as pale as a ghost, looking deathly ill with panic. Pippin, who seemed to realize his folly quickly, sobers up quickly. The unnamed one seems to be a mix of the two, a look of complete and utter bewilderment clear as day on his features. Aragorn and I spot Frodo as he reappears in a dark corner, shaking like a leaf and as pale as the wraiths that hunt him. Hidden in the shadows, we stride over to him, unseen by all in the Inn. The man reaches him first, however, and grabs Frodo by the cloak and drags him up the stairs to a dark room. “You draw far too much attention to yourself.. Mr. Underhill.” Aragorn hisses. I roll my eyes at his actions. “You could have been a little kinder to the poor boy, look at him! He looks like he’s seen Sauron himself.” I point out with a small grin, but it vanishes in a second with the look Frodo gives me. It was wide eyed, portraying the terrifying truth in my words. He had, indeed, seen Sauron himself. Aragorn ignores my statement and draws the attention back to himself as he looms over Frodo. “What do you want?” The quiver in the Hobbit’s voice is prominent when he asks this. Estel turns away for a moment to put out the bright and blazing candles. “A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry.” He replies.  “I carry nothing,” Frodo lies. I watch the situation with interest, though I say nothing. The terror of the Ring was clearly effecting him, and having Aragorn and I practically kidnap him was likely not helping. “Indeed?” The taller man hums. “I can avoid being seen if I wish. But to disappear entirely? That is a rare gift.” He states as he finally reveals his face and the mess that is his hair. I gape at him as I take in his aged features, this time I really inspect him. His grey eyes, his lips, his hair...  He was seemingly flawless. Stop it, you stupid girl! You have a task at hand! Shaking my head to clear those impeccably true thoughts, I barely hear Frodo whisper, “Who are you?” “Are you frightened?” This time, it was I who spoke, bringing the attention of both males to me. I say those words with a slight edge to my tone, and it could sound like mockery if we weren’t currently in a dire situation.  Frodo looks me dead in the eyes. “Yes,” he says honestly, I almost laugh. “Not nearly frightened enough,” I uttered lowly, and narrowed my eyes. “We know what hunts you.” Aragorn adds, making me grimace. The Nazgûl were nasty, terrible creatures who should have stayed dead and rotting in their tombs. A noise from the corridor bursts our eerie bubble, and the three of us jump towards the door.  In come three determined Hobbits carrying a chair, a candlestick and fists as weapons. I had to admit, their bravery was to be commended. The blonde one bellowed, “Let him go or I’ll have you, Longshanks!” I couldn’t help it, but I burst into laughter, giggles spewing from my mouth as I recounted what just happened. Maybe it was the ale, or maybe the fact that I haven’t spent more than thirty minutes in another persons presence in sixty-seven years, but that comment was the funniest shit I’ve heard in a long time. Everyone in the room turned towards me with bewilderment and confusion written all over them, making me laugh even harder. I had tears rolling down my face and my cheeks and stomach hurt from my sudden chortling.  After a few moments, my hysterics died down a bit, demoting themselves to light chuckles every so often. “I- I’m sorry,” I babbled. “Please, go on,” I smiled and waved my hand in a dismissive manner. The five men looked utterly disturbed and puzzled, but it was Aragorn who finally said something, though it was quite dark and ominous. “You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won’t save you.” He turned to Frodo, “You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They are coming.” After that we quickly devised a plan, and quietly made our way to the Hobbits room and stuffed pillows under the sheets to make it look like little people sleeping. Then, we grabbed all of their packs and brought them to Aragorn’s room, and we waited for the inevitable.  It had to have been two hours of silence before a single word was said by any of us. The Hobbits had already gone to bed, snuggled side by side on the large mattress. Aragorn and I sat across from each other by the window, watching for any sign of the dark servants.  I was playing with my dagger, twirling it between my fingers and stabbing it into the wood of the window sill, lost in my many degrading thoughts.  “Why did you leave?” Aragorn finally asked. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I stilled, dumbfounded. Out of all the things he could have said, he asked that? Gracious me, we are supposed to be watching out for the Black Riders, not sharing sob stories!  Trying to think of a semi-intelligent, semi-vague answer, I finally came up with “My heart led me elsewhere.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth. Before he could respond, however, I spot four Nazgûl riding into Bree. “Aragorn,” I call out and point to them as they make their way inside. The air thickens as heavy footsteps come up the stairs. I hold my breath, as does Aragorn, even the Hobbits seemed to stop breathing. Please, Valar, let us go unnoticed. It seems fate was feeling generous, the Ringwraiths strut right into the trap. And they stab. Over and over again, right into the pillows we set up just for them. I wince when I realize that it have very well been the Hobbits in place of those pillows if we hadn’t done something. Suddenly a deadly screech fills the air, followed by three others. No doubt they discovered the trap, and were positively pissed. I listen intently as they fled the Inn, and as they mounted their black steeds and left Bree, I hear multiple identical screams in the distance. My shoulders drop and I instantly breathe a sigh of relief. It worked. Our plan worked.  “What are they?” Frodo’s quiet voice questions from behind me. I look back to see him wide awake and seated on the edge of the bed. “They were once Men. Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the deceiver gave to them Nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed, they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness. Now they are slaves to his will.” Aragorn answers grimly. Sensing that he wasn’t going to say any more, I add on to his statement. “They are the Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one...” I trailed off. Our two voices fill the air in unison as we conclude,  “They will never stop hunting you.” ⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ TAGLIST @entishramblings (please tell me using my ask box if you want to be tagged in future chapters)

[athenadione]

Can I request #19 with your choice of ship?

Ahhh, thank you for giving me the BEST prompt for my first shot at jayrae <3

Pairing: JayRae Words: 1,387 Rated: M for cursing and minor scenes of NSFW

‘you should stay and drink Earl Grey’

Jason is instantly awake when he hears rummaging in his apartment, though he doesn’t move. Adrenaline shoots up his spine and a million questions are immediately running through his mind. Who is inside, why, what are they doing in his kitchen, and how in the goddamn world did they get through every single one of his alarms?

First he thinks it’s a bat— or a bird. Baby birds and little wings have an annoying tendency of showing up at his safe houses without knocking first, and nearly getting shot at as a consequence. He can’t even count the number of times Replacement almost got a bullet to the chest. At least the brat is smart enough to give him a heads up before traipsing through his front door. 

But then he hears the soft padding of feet through the tile of his kitchen and everything from last night pours into his mind, filling his senses. Heavy panting and rough, broken pleas. Pale, smooth, legs trembling with effort from his ministrations. The taste of her, still lingering on his lips. 

So it is a bird. 

She had come to him in the dead of night, an ethereal goddess, and hadn’t said a word when she slithered into his bed— eyes silently pleading for a distraction from whatever darkness had seeped into the edges of her irises. 

He had understood her need— had come to her with his own a few times when the voices of the Pit were too loud to ignore. 

It had been an unspoken rule between the two of them that she could come to him for her needs whenever she wanted. She’d always slip back out just before dawn. The only indication that she had ever been in his bed was the scent she left behind; Lavender and vanilla. 

The near silent sounds of swinging cabinets opening and shutting tell him that this morning she stayed, and he doesn’t know what to do about the feeling that reverberates in his chest as a result. 

He sits up in his bed slowly, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes, and the sheets fall to bunch around his waist. Stretching sore leg muscles from the previous night, he yawns and shuffles around his room to throw on some sweatpants that had been tossed into a heap on the floor shortly after she came to him. 

This apartment has two bedrooms and a full kitchen— one of the reasons he chose this as one of his main safe houses. That plus the full landscape view of Crime Alley below makes for a short commute to work. 

After all the times he’s stumbled into his apartment after dark, he’s memorized how many steps it takes to get to the kitchen, and they’re near silent across the linoleum when it comes into view. 

The sight before him makes him pause mid-step, causing another unrecognizable pang through his chest.

Her back is turned to him and he notices his t-shirt she’s wearing practically drowns her, and his first thought is how such a powerful demoness can be so damn small. Then his eyes sweep the rest of her figure. One arm is stretched out, searching in one of his cupboards while the other is braced against the kitchen counter. Standing up on her tiptoes, his shirt raises a few scant inches, barely covering her ass. He vaguely notices the kettle pot she’s already found has begun to boil water over the heated stove. 

Then she lets go of a gentle hum in the back of her throat when she pulls her arm out of the cabinet, taking with her two mugs and two blended packets of Earl Grey. 

He watches as the movement to bring both mugs back down with her causes one sleeve of his shirt to slide down to reveal a pale, bare shoulder, and she makes an effort to close the cabinet while making as little noise as possible in an obvious attempt to avoid waking him. Once she completes her quest, the smile of victory that graces her lips shortly after causes an emotion he can’t interpret to swell in his throat.

He doesn’t know why this particular moment takes his breath away, because this isn’t anything that is considered out of the ordinary, but it does completely. 

The simple act of brewing tea for them both in his t-shirt is so domestic, so right, he can’t help but feel like she belongs here— not just in his kitchen or in his apartment, but with him. 

“God, you are so fucking cute.” 

The moment is lost when she promptly tenses every muscle in her body as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and the smirk that soon plays at his lips is natural because anytime he’s able to surprise her is a triumph all on its own. 

And his smirk grows when she turns to face him with deliberate movements, throwing him a pensive stare that would intimidate anyone else but him. The corners of her mouth tug downwards into a light frown as her eyes flick down at his own figure, hesitating over his bare chest. 

“You think this,” She gestures over her body with a flippant hand, then picks at a particular spot on his shirt that has a vague, discolored stain, “Is cute?”

His smile broadens even further and he takes a few steps closer to her. “Isn’t that what I just said, Princess?” 

The annoyance is near palpable on her face at the pet name, and she sets down the mugs and tea bags to cross her arms in front of her chest. “Kittens are cute.” 

“Mhmm.” He doesn’t mention that kittens and ravens are now and forever synonymous in his mind. 

“Babies are cute.” She continues. 

“Debatable.” He points out. 

She ignores him. “But the ‘early morning after an impromptu rendezvous’ look is not cute.” She crosses her legs at her ankles and tucks a stray hair that falls in front of her face behind her ear.

Jason easily crosses the kitchen to reach her, and he encircles his arms on either side of her body, effectively caging her in against the counter. Relishing in the way she instinctively arches against him, he lowers his face until it’s just a few inches from hers. 

“Sorry to break it to you Rae, but standing here in my kitchen, wearing nothing but my shirt and making us some Earl Grey is nothing short of adorable.” He tells her. “It’s also sexy as hell.” He adds. 

A scowl is her response, but to Jason it just looks like the cutest pout he’s ever seen, and the sudden urge to kiss her has him closing the remaining distance between them to capture her lips with his. She releases a muffled squeak of surprise that really does sound like the mewl of a kitten, but he’s wise enough to not point that out to her, and he places his hands at the swell of her hips to swiftly place her bottom on the counter so that he can deepen their kiss. 

She melts against him, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer— allowing him entrance to her mouth when his tongue dances across her bottom lip teasingly. 

He kisses her slowly, smiling against her lips when she urges him to continue, but instead he pulls back to peer into her eyes.

“You stayed.” He states, noticing when her hands release him to fidget in the hem of his shirt. Carefully averting his gaze, she bites her lip. Not cute my ass. 

“I have the day off, and I thought that it would be nice to wake you up with a cup of tea?” She offers and her hands still as if she suddenly realized the forwardness of her actions. “I should go—”

“No.” Jason cuts her off, giving her a rare, genuine smile. 

“You should stay.” 

She pauses, looks at him impassively for a minute, until something between them shifts, and she gives him a rare, genuine smile in return. “Okay.” 

“Good…” He steps back when she pushes at his forearms so that she can finish brewing their tea, 

“...Cutie.” 

His echoing laugh fills the kitchen when he narrowly avoids the paper towel roll she throws at him a second later.

[scope-dogg]

Heavy Metal L-gaim: Final Thoughts

Famous director Yoshiyuki Tomino and famous artist Mamoru Nagano have been partners on crime on several occasions, most recently in Brain Powerd and most famously in Zeta Gundam, considered by many to be an all-time great, not just in terms of Gundam but in science-fiction anime in general. However, that was immediately preceded by this series, Heavy Metal L-gaim, which was Tomino’s next project following the success of Aura Battler Dunbine. You’d think that the project sandwiched in between Dunbine and Zeta, both excellent and hugely influential series, would be similarly memorable. However, despite some bright spots I found that this wasn’t the case. The show did its best to win me over with a last-gasp rally in quality that felt like I was finally watching the anime I would have expected to be, but ultimately it wasn’t enough to undo the damage of the previous 40-something episodes of confusion and mediocrity.

The plot setup is that Pentagona, a star system with 5 habitable worlds, has after a long period of tumultuous warfare come under the sway of the dictator Oldna Poseidal. On the planet Koam, a young man with a mysterious past named Daba Myroad wanders with his friend Mirao Kyao and a family heirloom, a powerful Heavy Metal called L-gaim. After run-ins with bandits, Daba takes up a dying man’s last wish to deliver a cash card to a shady businessman named Amandra Kamandra. This seemingly simple quest ends up taking Daba on a quest across the system that eventually ends up entangling him in a revolutionary movement to overthrow Poseidal’s tyranny and free Pentagona.

The plot setup sounds very simple, but right from the get-go it starts running into issues. You’d expect what I just described to take two or three episodes, maybe five or six tops - even in the days when anime series tended to be longer (as L-gaim is at a hefty 54 episodes) most shows try to set the ball rolling fairly quickly. L-gaim takes over a dozen episodes before the real plot even starts to begin. Sometimes taking some time to establish characters and the setting doesn’t go amiss, but L-gaim’s characters, at least those that feature in the opening arc, aren’t particularly complicated, and the setting never really feels like it’s properly established in a way that’s meaningful - the key features of the setting don’t get properly introduced, much less properly explained, until the final quarter of the show’s runtime. The show also has a problem with tone. The early episodes are extremely lighthearted, as Tomino shows tend to be following one of his more serious ones like Dunbine. It’s more akin to Combat Mecha Xabungle than anything. However, as the real plot finally kicks in, the shift to serious war drama is especially jarring and makes any further effort at comedy stick out in a bad way, even if things never get quite as grim or serious as they do in shows like Ideon or Victory Gundam.

However, the pacing is what’s truly egregious. A lot of Tomino’s shows, even his good ones, tend to have pacing issues, but this one was probably the worst. Somewhere around the 30-episode mark, it occurred to me that I could count the number of episodes that featured events that advanced the plot in any meaningful way on one hand, with the rest just being wheel-spinning. The final ten or so episodes manage to completely reverse this trend, and actually do a commendable job to answer all unanswered questions, tie up loose threads and give characters meaningful moments, all while delivering levels of drama and excitement as good as any of Tomino’s work, but it comes too little too late and doesn’t justify the absolute slog it took to get there.

The characters that you’ll meet along this tedious journey are a mixed bag. Daba isn’t all that interesting as a protagonist, with his main character trait being that he’s very honest and sincere, to the point of naivety in many cases. The rest of the entourage he picks up is a mixed bag. He picks up two female characters called Amu and Lecce who would be fairly likable characters if the pair of them weren’t constantly at each others’ throats over their mutual thirst for Daba - the constant cat fights get extremely grating. On the other hand, Daba’s friend Kyao is an affable presence, and the fairy Lilith is surprisingly more than just the group mascot and actually manages to prove one of the more competent and consistently likable members of the team. Daba’s chief rival over the course of the show is a pompous man named Gavlet Gablae, who’s honestly not really competent enough to be convincing as he rises through the ranks of the Poseidal military, but at the same time I couldn’t help but like him - even once the show stops being a zany comedy, Gablae keeps getting used as comic relief - he’s a guy that takes himself extremely seriously, and him trying and failing to live up to his own self-importance never really stops being funny, even if it does contribute to the show’s tonal inconsistencies. What’s most frustrating is the characters the show underutilises. The agenda of the shady Amandra Kamandra and the true nature of Poseidal are the show’s most enticing mysteries, and while these get teased early on they’re left AWOL almost until the end, when things get resolved. The dramatic events at the end are excellent, but they almost feel divorced and disconnected from everything you’ve seen up until that point.

The writing foibles could perhaps be alleiviated if the show made up for it with good presentation, but L-gaim is an old show that hasn’t aged with much grace. Many of Mamoru Nagano’s mechanical designs are excellent - the L-gaim in particular is an 8/10 design with its mid-season upgrade, the L-gaim Mk. II feeling like a 10/10, but they’re let down by very choppy animation and poor usage of colours - some like the Bat-shu, Calvary Temple and A-taul use dark colours that cause them to blend into the backgrounds of the space battles the show loves to use. It also uses a lot of obnoxious and distracting visual effects like wiry electrical sparking and flashing strobe light to cover up the rough animation when the Heavy Metals fight - in addition to being an epileptic’s worst nightmare they just make things look worse. The soundtrack is just okay - while the OPs and EDs are really catchy, the normal soundtrack isn’t anything particularly memorable.

Overall the show is disappointing because the setting and characters do have a lot of potential, and it’s potential that isn’t really exploited until the show’s climax. It’s telling that nowadays this show’s not remembered as well as most of the other great mecha shows of this era, yet Mamoru Nagano would take many of his character designs, concepts and themes from this show and recycled them into the Five Star Stories, a manga that would go on to be a massive success. As such, L-gaim’s more of a case of what might have been than anything. While it does have its high points, it’s hard to recommend when so much of it feels ultimately pointless.

All that said, I’m still looking forward to its implementation into SRW 30. The dull and convoluted plot, the mediocre presentation and occasionally annoying character writing - these are all things that can be fixed or sidestepped in order to deliver on the show’s more interesting concepts.

[the-dream-team]

Alternatively could you write one based on the scene where the woman is hiding behind the counter and that amazing hero of a woman takes one look at the scary dude following her and says something like “honey you stay as long as you need” because the world needs more examples of women like that

This scene is one of my all-time favorites from the movie, so thank you for suggesting it! Here’s a little Snape-hate for your Thursday <3 

Read it on AO3

Lily knew better than to get her hopes up when it came to Petunia. She’d learned through the years that trying to get back in her sister’s good graces was far beyond a lost cause, but when she’d spotted the little grey kitten with crystal blue eyes playing in the Cokeworth Pet Shop’s front window, she really thought she’d found the perfect birthday present. Lily and Petunia used to love chasing the neighbourhood strays around when they were children. Surely, Tuney still liked cats. 

Apparently, Lily was quite mistaken. 

On the morning of the twelfth of July, 1976,  when Lily presented Petunia with the mewing gift, she was met by a scowl and crinkled nose.

“Vernon’s dog-sitting for his sister at the moment,” Petunia said as she handed Lily back the kitten, “so this thing will have to be out of sight when he arrives this afternoon. Best to make yourself scarce, as well... Vern thought you were quite odd after you two met last Christmas.”

Lily didn’t give a rat’s arse what Vern thought of her but bringing the kitten back to her own bedroom stung. Navigating the tricky relationship with Petunia had always been difficult when Lily came home from Hogwarts, but this Summer had been especially hard without Sev to turn to when it all became too much. Not that she wanted to turn to him anymore.

She squeezed the kitten to her chest and sighed, the memory of what Sev had said that day by the lake hitting her again in waves. Maybe a walk and some fresh air would help.

It didn’t. 

Barely a block away from her house, Lily heard shuffling footsteps behind her and immediately her chest tightened. She should have known.

“Lily, can we-”

“I told you to stay away from me, Sev.”

She spun around to see Severus, mouth gaping, hair disheveled, brows knit.

“Please,” he sputtered, slightly breathless, “I just want to talk.” 

Lily felt like she could breathe fire at that moment. “Bloody hell, I’ve heard enough out of you for a lifetime. Leave me alone.” She spun on her heel and started heading towards the center of town, hoping that having a crowd might deter Severus in his quest for Merlin knows what. 

“I know today is hard for you,” he continued, unfazed by the fact she was literally running away from him. She rolled her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t respond he’d eventually get the hint… “It’s her birthday. I remember. We used to spend this day together every year.”

“We spent a lot of days together, Severus,” she shot back, still looking straight ahead. “Drop the dramatics and get it through your head that I’m not going to forgive you. Not anymore.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” he said, jogging up to her side, so close she could see his hair swaying in her peripheral vision. 

Lily dodged into the town market, attempting to throw Severus off her tail. Just as she’d hoped, the shops were bustling on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon, with plenty of patrons to provide her some protection from her pursuer. She swerved through families waiting in line for ice creams, couples picking out furniture, and teenagers loitering around the record store, but Severus managed to keep up at every turn.

“Will you please just talk to me,” he called, his plea so slimy Lily cursed the underage wizarding laws. Oh, the satisfaction a good Bat-bogey hex would bring right about now.

She cut through a narrow shop selling candles and bath soaps, sure that she’d given him the slip, but her heart dropped when he appeared to cut her off at the exit. He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the alleyway, seemingly dropping any attempt at civility. His hand was cold and tight on her skin as she shook herself free from his grip.

“I saw you with Potter on the Hogwarts express,” Severus sneered, the name Potter like poison on his tongue.

Lily gawked. He chased her halfway through Cokeworth because he saw her talking to James? She knew he hated the Gryffindor boys in their year, but she couldn’t wrap her head around him practically stalking her over one conversation she had weeks ago. The only response she could come up with: “So?”

“So?” he nearly shouted. “How could you possibly even speak to him after what he did to us!”

She had managed to keep her cool. Until now. “What he did to us? Potter didn’t do anything to me, other than act like a bit of a prick- which he apologized for that day on the train, mind you.” 

Severus sputtered. “But it’s his fault-”

“That you called me a Mudblood?” That shut him up. While he tried gathering himself to respond, Lily saw her opportunity to bolt. A group of loud football fans passed by and she spun through them to make a run for it. 

It felt childish, running through the market at age sixteen, but not nearly as immature as that godawful conversation, so it was a lesser of two evils, really. 

She could hear Severus cursing behind her as she searched for an exit, her panic growing as a bloody hen party decided to roost up outside the pub, blocking off the nearest escape route out of the market. With her head clouding from panic at the thought of discussing James freaking Potter with Severus for another minute, Lily made a split- if not uncalculated- decision and leapt over the nearest shop counter. Out of sight, out of mind. 

Well, almost.

“If you’re not a cupcake, you don’t belong here.”

Lily looked up from her hiding spot on the bakery stall’s floor at an unphased woman with arched eyebrows and a messy apron. Her nametag read ‘Carla’ in swoopy script with a smiley face sticker that didn’t match the unamused look on her face.

“I’m- er- just trying to hide from my ex,” explained Lily. Whether that be -friend, -boyfriend, or -husband, she let Carla come to her own conclusions.

“Who, greasy?”

“Yes.”

Carla glanced discreetly from Lily’s spot behind the counter to the marketplace ahead and allowed a hint of a grimace to pass over her unbothered expression. “Honey, stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Lily exhaled, and chanced a look through the cupcake display case. To her horror, she saw Severus approaching the bakery, a wild look in his dark eyes. 

“Do you need something?” asked Carla and Lily watched disgust wash over Severus’ face at the gall of a Muggle shopkeeper to dare speak to him. “I said do you need something?”

He scoffed, rolled his eyes, and whipped around to look elsewhere. 

“I see why you left him,” Carla muttered. She reached under the counter and handed Lily a cupcake with fluffy yellow frosting topped with two eyes and a smile. It matched the sticker on Carla’s nametag and Lily couldn’t help but grin. 

“You know what,” said Lily, reaching into her pocket to pull out her Muggle money, “I’ll take a dozen more of these.”

***

Lily sat in her bedroom, curled up with the kitten that afternoon, her window wide open to let in the warm summer breeze. Voices carried from the garden as Petunia and her boyfriend explained to her parents just how difficult it had been to secure a reservation that night at the swankiest restaurant in all of Cokeworth. 

“By the way, Mrs. Evans,” said Vernon, his loud voice crashing through Lily’s window, “these cupcakes are delicious. They’re from Sweet Street’s Bakery down at the market, are they not? Not a better spot in all of England, you have excellent taste.”

“Oh,” came her mother’s voice, “I had nothing to do with the cupcakes, actually. It was Lily who picked them out.”

As the shocked silence stretched on, Lily’s smile grew tenfold, wide enough to match the happy face on her own half-eaten cupcake. 

[tessathaitea]

To Think it Started With COVID-19

"Mr. Jackson, I need you to please introduce yourself to the rest of the class," his teacher Mr. Green asked through the computer. He sighed.

He and Annabeth had broken up, not on exactly mutual terms (by now he had moved on and they were both still very close friends). He held no grudge against her, for it was part of figuring out who she was, nor against the certain daughter of Aphrodite she had been crushing on.

Percy proceeded to type in the chat that he could not unmute, unless the class wanted to hear a bunch of pandemonium.

"Mr. Jackson, I assume you don't want to be failing class on the first day, am I correct?" Mr. Green asked (his name should have been Mr. Blue. That would be much better). Percy sighed, and hit the unmute button.

"Um, alright. Hello, I'm Percy Jackson and-" he started before being interrupted.

"GET OVER HERE YOU LITTLE PUNKS! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" a voice Percy later recognised as Clarisse shouted. A bomb-like noise then went off.

"Sorry about that. Okay, so-" another voice then shouted out, interrupting him for the second time in thirty seconds.

"Shut up you load of Minotaur dung!" it said. Another boom sounded. The Stolls must have been pulling another prank and went too far.

"Right, Mr. Jackson, you may refrain from introducing yourself. Now, please mute yourself. All that noise is going to end up giving me a headache," he said. Percy quickly muted himself, and then sighed with relief. At least he didn't ask where Percy was. It would be hard to explain as to why Percy was at a summer camp during the school year. He zoned out the rest of the lecture, making it when Jason snuck up behind him an even bigger scare.

"Hey," Jason said. Percy jumped in surprise, and he couldn't help noticing Jason's bright blue eyes staring right at him, and cursed himself for thinking. Turning his camera off, he turned towards Jason.

"Something you need? I think you know I'm in class right now," he smirked. Jason laughed. He gave Percy a sad smile.

"There's been a new quest issued for you, Nico, Thalia, and me," he said sadly, his smile gone. Percy's heart sunk.

"Right. I'll be there in a minute," Percy said. He told his teacher that there was a family emergency.

"I can wait," Jason said, sitting down on a bed. Percy smiled.

"Ha, no. You need to get your stuff ready. Now, shoo," he said. Jason rolled his eyes, but left the cabin.

After getting his work in advance for the next seven weeks from his teacher, he packed a bag of nectar and ambrosia. There was a soft knock on the door, and Annabeth came in.

"Hey Wise Girl. You get your crush yet?" he asked teasingly. Annabeth turned red, and glared at him.

"Shut up. You getting excited to be going on a quest with a certain blond haired blue-eyed Son of Jupiter?" she said. Percy turned around and pretended to continue packing, so the girl wouldn't see the light blush along his thoroughly tanned cheeks.

"I don't know what you mean Wise Girl," he said, fighting down the blush.

"Of course you do! You're always glancing over at him, and you sometimes even blush around him," she said, rolling her eyes and giggling uncharacteristically. He glared at her, forgetting about the blush on his cheeks. Annabeth's smile widened. As Percy walked out of his cabin, he told her something he would never regret.

"If you don't admit your feelings for Piper by the time I get back, you owe me twenty golden drachma," he called, and then bumped into the same daughter of Aphrodite he was talking about on the way out.

"Wait, what?" Piper asked. Percy winked at both of them.

"Don't start doing the deed in my cabin now, as I don't need more of a mess," he said teasingly. Leaving both girls a blushing mesh, he skipped out the door.

Once he arrived at the Big House, he was met with Thalia interrogating a flustered Jason, which Percy thought was sort of cute.

"You know that he's head-over-heels for you, right? I still don't get why you picked that-" Thalia continued ranting at Jason, until she noticed Percy was there. After Thalia saw him, she started to immediately change the subject.

"Are we all ready to go?" Nico grumbled. Percy suspected he had been pulled out of the infirmary after another round of 'doctors orders' stays. Percy bet that a certain Will Solace was just making excuses to fuss over Nico and spend time with him.

After everyone at least mumbled at yes, they all took hands. Percy later could have sworn Thalia nudged Jason closer to him. He realized with a jolt that Jason was actually holding his hand, and then cursed himself for thinking like a lovesick middle school student. He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden darkness of shadow-travel, and the burst of cold air that came after it.

There was a yell, and all of a sudden Nico and Thalia fell over the skyscraper that they had landed on.

"Thalia, concentrate on the winds and not anything else. If all else fails, Nico see if you can shadow-travel back to camp!" Jason yelled. Thalia concentrated, but only managed to stir up a miniature thunderstorm. Nico sighed, and touched Thalia's shoulder, trying to touch her as little as possible as they shadow-traveled out.

Percy sighed with relief, but then realized the situation they were in. They were on top of some sort of skyscraper with two antennae, and one was lit up red and the other lit up green. The city had an amazing skyline, but didn't look like anywhere in New York.

"Any clue to where we are?" Percy asked.

"Nico said we were going to start out in Chicago, but didn't say where. I'm guessing we're on the Sirius tower/ Willis tower," Jason answered. Jason had his legs dangling off the roof, and was staring at the skyline. Percy sat down next to him.

"You know, you guys never actually told me what we were doing on this quest," Percy said.

"We were waiting for you to ask," Jason said. Was it Percy's imagination, or did Jason move closer to him?

"Yeah, well I'm asking now,"

"It was for me to do something," Jason said. Percy had the urge to roll his eyes.

"Do what?" Percy asked. Jason turned towards Percy, his blue eyes sparkling.

"This,"

Jason grabbed Percy's jaw and smashed his lips onto Percy's own. Suddenly, the night's colors became sharper, and Percy's senses cheered. When they finally pulled away, both boys were blushing.

"You wouldn't believe how long I wanted to do that," Jason said, his fingers tracing one of the scars on Percy's face.

"Yeah? How long?" Percy asked.

"Since the day I met you," he said.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the couch?" Jason asked. They were staying at a hotel room, and there had been a mix up in the room so that there was only one bed.

"Jason fucking Grace, I said it's fine. Now go to bed," Percy mumbled from his spot in the bed. He heard Jason sigh, and felt him lay down in the bed. Percy moved so that he was in Jason's arms, and sighed contently. He heard the equivalent from Jason a couple minutes later. For once, Percy didn't have to worry about anything from the mythological world.

TIMESKIPTOAFTERWHENEVERTHEIRSPRINGBREAKENDS:

"Mr. Jackson, could you please state the answer to this question?" his teacher asked. Percy sighed. He would have to spend the rest of the day correcting his other teachers.

"Fine. Also, it's Grace-Jackson now."

“COME BACK HERE! YOU DIDN’T TAKE A COVID-19 TEST!”  shouted someone in the background. Probably Will hounding Nico because he shadow-traveled to Europe on accident again. 

Oh, well. Camp Half-Blood was his family after all, and a great one at that.

[seventfics]

Blind Owl

Written for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​

Prompt: Temporary or permanent blindness Relationships: Triss Merigold/Philippa Eilhart Rating: M Content Warnings: None (Mild Gore, Blood and Injury) Summary: It's hard, but Triss finds a way to help Philippa.

Read on AO3

* * *

“Philippa.”

At the mention of her name the sorceress turns, her head held high. Too high, Triss notes, to be facing her directly.

The edges of the blindfold over Philippa’s eyes are stained red.

“Triss. I must say, of all the things that have happened today? I didn’t expect to meet you.”

Triss quirks a smile at her. “Disappointed?”

“No, never,” she says with a graceful wave of her dirtied hand. “Surprised. I overheard that all the mages had dipped from Novigrad. I should have known you would stay behind.”

“I wasn’t going to, to be honest. Geralt convinced me.”

“Yes, he’s good at that, isn’t he?”

Triss’ portal had taken them from Sigi Reuven’s bathhouse to her small room at the Rosemary and Thyme. It’s not her room, really, but a kindness of Geralt’s friends, and one she immediately took up. Better than the Bits, where she lived in tight quarters on a lopsided building. Now she has actual furniture she picked herself, a full bed that can support her weight without sinking, and a lock on her door. It is much more to her liking.

Philippa would hate her decor, if she could see it. They’ve always had different taste in furniture.

“Circumstances aside…I’m glad you’re with us, Phil.”

Philippa hums. She walks the room carefully, a hand tense with magic held forward to sense for objects. “And what are the circumstances, exactly?”

From her pocket, Triss brings out an agate.

“Geralt stumbled upon this, some time ago.” The stone glimmers from old traces of Philippa’s magic. “You want the Lodge back together. Well, so do we.”

“Ah. Our interests align.”

Though she is blind, Philippa props herself neatly on the lone bed’s edge as Triss explains the looming threat of the Wild Hunt. In all things she is flawless artistry. Her hands cross over a hip, as she lifts her legs to lounge over Triss’ bed—and oh, how familiar, the sight of her like that. It distracts her mid-speech more than once.

“In my state,” she drawls, gesturing to her blindfold, “I am not much help.”

Triss is less artful, but just as coquette with her lilting voice. “You are, Philippa,” and more seriously, she adds, “You were the best of us.”

“Quite. You understand that this is a matter most crucial for the survival of magic.”

After a moment’s pause, Philippa sits upright against the half a dozen pillows Triss hoards at the back. She presses a hand to her temples, sighing as if displeased by something.

It is the closest sign she’s going to give to her exhaustion. Her pain.

Triss’ heart aches to help. But Philippa is proud. She is strong on her own, and protective of that right. She would not accept an ounce of pity nor mercy, no matter how well-intended.

Years of her acquaintance have taught Triss how to work around that.

“We need you at your best. Phil,” she says, sitting by the weary sorceress to take one of her hands between her own.

Philippa tilts her head up then. Again, too high, and slightly left of Triss’ ear.

“Tell me what I can do.”

* * *

The wet stones under her fingertips harbor the cells of Philippa’s experiment. It’s grotesque, she knows. Some sections have grown beyond control, eye-masses with mutated pupils, multiple irises, some even larger than a megascope’s crystal. But as Philippa does her best rebuilding the Lodge, reforming allyships, and planning the Wild Hunt’s defeat, Triss must do this unpleasant work. For Philippa.

She nearly slips and falls down to her doom twice. The stones are at such a precarious altitude, at a precise distance from the cavern waterfall to promote cell growth without washing off the results. What was Philippa thinking? Growing eyes in such a dangerous place?  

But here she is, carefully extracting the cells from the stone with her magic. She suspends them in a sterile magic seal, to store in her purse. For some reason, that makes her laugh, a sound that echoes back to her ears three times. She has Philippa’s eyes in her bag. Philippa’s beautiful eyes that had been gouged out by an angry and paranoid king. The amber of them is now indistinguishable from moss.

There is no time to rest between quests, and yet, once she is finished gathering the most that she can, Triss climbs to safer ground on shaky hands and knees, needing a second to breathe. Just a second. She cannot spare more than that to mourn, or cry, or remember how Phil used to tease her with just a stare and a raised brow.

It will be fine.

She will have new eyes. They won’t be the same, but Philippa won’t care. It’s just Triss who needs a second.

Back when they were a powerful Lodge of Sorceresses, and not the tattered survivors of imprisonment and war, Triss had mooned over the proud advisor to the crown of Redania. She didn’t make her attention obvious, but nothing goes under Philippa’s notice. The woman had made herself friends among spies and, like in all things, absorbed some of their skills.

They spent many nights in each other’s company. Sometimes, it was just to forget the cruelty of war, the greedy men who broke what they could not claim. Triss was lucky to be considered important. A sorceress has more worth as a power to be wielded than a woman to be abused.

And after the Battle on Sodden Hill, Triss had little trust in men.

Maybe that’s why she started this...liaison. And maybe it had been a shallow, poor excuse at first, but. Somewhere between disillusionment and distraction, her heart stole away in the owl’s nest of Philippa’s making.

“Do you think one day we could be happy?”

With a single candle to illuminate the room, Triss braves the words. This world is not made for them to find happiness, but they are powerful. They could make it so.

Philippa doesn’t move from her limp, careless spread over silk red sheets. The dim firelight paints her skin bronze. Nothing covers her, and it is beautiful.

“Happiness has never been my dream,” she says, her back to Triss. “My vision remains on the future of the Northern Kingdoms and the conservation of magic. A sorceress’ dream.”

That is Philippa. Sturdy. Focused. Her hedonist streak is a sparse creature, easily ignored.

Still, Triss hopes. That is who she is.

A long pause ebbs the nervousness buried in Triss’ chest. No one disturbs them, which is rare. No megascope call. No xenovox. No letter from either of the kings they serve.

Triss nearly dozes off, warm and content with things, when she hears a quiet, “Do you see me, in your dream of peace and leisure?”

“I do.”

She opens her eyes to the jostle of movement. Philippa has finally turned around to stare at her, her dark hair a wild fan over her shoulders and breast.

“Perhaps,” she says as she brings up fingers to play with the loose fire-red strands over Triss’ ear, “perhaps one of us should keep that possibility in our mind.”

* * *

“Ah, you’ve returned.”

The surprise lilt in Philippa’s voice tells her that she did not expect Triss so soon. She understood the hard undertaking of retrieving her growing eye cells from the deepest caves of her most secret hideout.

But where Philippa is clever, Triss is eager. Of course she would go as quickly as possible. The Wild Hunt does not wait. The witch hunters of Novigrad will not cease their chase. There is no time to be dallying.

“Well darling, hand them here," Philippa starts, her palms opened to receive Triss' hard-earned work, "so I can get to the matter of fusing them in.”

“Let me.”

She pauses at the plea. If she had eyes, Triss imagines she would have blinked.

But it’s only a short lapse in time, her mind running through a million scenarios.

Eventually, she nods, deeming the offer acceptable. “If you insist. But do not take too long, I hear our brave witcher is to return soon with our esteemed Cirilla, and I have much to talk with her about the future of our Lodge.”

Slowly, Philippa undoes her blindfold, unknowingly as Triss goes to kneel in front of her.

She does flinch at the sight. It is a nasty healing wound, dark and sunken where eyes should be. The skin around the sockets is black. But her own chest, glamored to hide snarled skin, bares worse scars from battle.

The cells take time to transfer from her purse, and they are not yet fully nurtured. They will have to grow into place. With Philippa’s magic to amplify sight, it would be enough to maneuver buildings and streets on her own. It is not by any means a perfect resolve.

Triss puts great care in choosing the healthiest cells. She tries not to cause too much discomfort—any sort of magical procedure that modifies the body would be painful, at the very least uncomfortable—but if it is unbearable, Philippa bears it.

When the last sliver of magic dissipates, Philippa voices a tense but honest, “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

There, still knelt between pale thighs and gazing up at the newly-healed flesh around mossy eyes, Philippa kisses her.

A wound Triss did not know she still had in her heart opens. Fresh blood pounds through her body like a blaze set free on a forest. It burns, the kiss like a match against her lips, and the world narrows down to them, now, together after everything. Her arms cannot hold onto Phil any harder as she kisses back with all her being. All her fire and pain and love that never waned.

When they separate, Phil whispers, “Do you still see me in your dream of the future?” like a secret that should not be named in fear of shattering it.

“I do.” They don’t have time to second-guess their dreams or the choices that got them closer to achieving them. Just a second is all they can spare, to doubt.

One day, Triss hopes they can finally stop running, stop fighting, scheming, surviving, and simply be.

It will be fine.

They stay in each other’s arms, breathing each other’s air. Philippa’s fingertip lingers above Triss’ lip, almost playful in its upwards tug. This time, when Triss stands up and Phil raises her head, it feels like she is looking at her.

“Well, then we better stop this world-ending business first.”

Triss gives her a smile through her eyes.

One day.