#it wouldn’t last long the passage of time would be different for sure but… hm

[bravevolunteer]

thinking about michael between pizza sim and security breach having a conversation with old man consequences…

[twistedminutia]

A Million and One Minutia: Wisdom Teeth and Appendixes

Malleus and the prefect discuss the strangeness of the human body. (Read the previous chapters here: Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4)

A swirl of green-yellow lights twinkle above the garden like earthbound stars. It’s a beautiful and eerie sight, and as soon as I see them, I poke my head outside.

Sure enough, there’s a tall figure, made even taller by the horns on his head, on the walkway to Ramshackle Dorm. I toss on a sweater to keep out the night’s chill and step out.

He turns toward me as I emerge, gaze as green-yellow as the lights around him. He’s clearly not human, something that would have freaked me out a few months ago and is now oddly commonplace. His pupils are like dark slashes in the center of his eyes, his face sharply and inhumanly beautiful. He hasn’t said it, but I assume he’s one of the Faeries I’ve been reading about in the history books.

“Hello, Child of Man,” he says. It’s a strange nickname, and one that only confirms my suspicions that he’s Fae. Well, that plus the horns. And the pointed ears. “It’s a pleasant night.”

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” I’ve gotten used to his occasional visits over the past few weeks. He likes examining the gargoyles on Ramshackle dorm, and if he minds when I pop out to say hi, he hasn’t said anything. I actually get the impression he appreciates having someone to listen to his in-depth discussions of architectural styles and how that has affected gargoyle construction. For my part, it’s honestly just cool to listen to someone talk passionately about something I never really thought about before. “How are you doing?”

It’s a casual question, but he gives it some real thought, wrinkling his brows in deep contemplation. “I am well,” he finally decides. “And you?”

“More or less the same.” My arms ache from trying to clean out one of the guest rooms for most of the day, and I’ve admittedly been sleeping pretty badly in the past couple of weeks, but other than that, I’m fine. He observes me for a long moment, gaze impassive. I cast around for something to break the silence. “Do you want to sit down for a bit? I can, uh, get you something to eat, if you want. I think I have some pastries left over, somewhere.” Unless Grim’s found them, which is a distinct possibility.

He smiled, as if that amused him somehow. “I cannot stay for long, but thank you for the offer. I wouldn’t mind sitting here for the moment.”

I gesture to the steps of Ramshackle and plop myself down upon them. He blinks at me, surprise crossing his expression. It occurs to me, at that moment, that maybe he doesn’t want to put his fancy, uniformed butt on the definitely slightly dirty steps to my house, and that I might have slightly different standards of cleanliness than someone who hasn’t lived in a near death trap for multiple months. Before I can retract my offer, though, he sweeps his cloak aside and sits down next to me.

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a bit since you last visited,” I say.

He shrugs. “Has it?”

“It’s been a bit over a week.” About a week and a half, actually, but I don’t want to seem like I’m paying too close attention to the dates. Admittedly, visits are not necessarily on a regular schedule, but it’s rare to not see him for more than a couple weeks at a time.

“Hm. The passage of time is often different for humans than it is for Fae,” he says, tapping a nail against his chin. “I will have to remember to stop by more often.”

“Well, I don’t want to put you out if you’re busy or something,” I say hurriedly. He doesn’t talk all that much about his school life, but he does allude to having a lot on his plate. I’d feel bad if I made him feel obligated to stop by, since Ramshackle is a bit out of the way for most students.

“No, I appreciate these visits. It will be beneficial to try to adopt a more human view of time.” He falls silent and we stare up at the stars. It’s a peaceful moment, and I’m not even bothered by the chill in the air.

If there’s one thing I can appreciate about him, it’s that he’s perfectly okay with sitting in silence for a while. My usual group, much as I appreciate them, tends to be full of chaos. Even living with Grim and the ghosts is too much sometimes. It’s really nice to be able to just have a few moments of relaxation.

I turn my gaze to look at him, trying not to stare too openly. He’s a pretty striking silhouette in the moonlight, really accentuated by the horns. I can’t stop myself from looking at them. Like Jack’s ears and tail, it’s amazing how real they are. I mean, I know conceptually they’re real, but there’s a really big difference between seeing them CGI’d onto a TV character or seeing a person in a costume with fake horns glued to their head than there is seeing them as a part of a person’s actual body.

“Is there something you would like to ask me?” he says out of the blue. I must look shocked, because an amused expression crosses his face. “You were staring. Quite intently.”

“Oh.” Great. I’ve been caught. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just looking at your horns.” Is that creepy? “There aren’t any Fae where I’m from, so I guess it’s unusual for me. But I shouldn’t have just been staring.” It’s accurate, without giving too much away. I’ve gathered that Fae aren’t common sights, so just saying I haven’t seen many of them before shouldn’t give away that I’m not from this world at all.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem upset by the staring. “It’s true that Fae and humans do not mingle much. That was part of my reasoning for coming here. I would like to help bring a deeper bond between our kinds.”

“That’s a noble goal,” I say. I’m aware of the war that happened, though I don’t know many more details than the stuff we’ve gone over in Trein’s class. It seems like a good idea to try and rebuild peace. Though I’m not sure if he has any actual ability to do so- a lot of the people at school seem like rich, important types, so maybe he’s from a family that has some influence? Not like I would know. “Oh, hey Sassy.”

He looks over in time to see a white cat slither her way onto my lap. Sassy is my cat in the same sense that Ramshackle is my house- not technically, but we spend enough time together that it works. I don’t feed her or anything, but she likes to hang around me regardless. I assume she’s hunting the rats that must be hiding in the corners of Ramshackle. Which honestly makes her more of a help than Crowley or Grim, most of the time, so she’s more than welcome to stay.

“Why do you call her that?” he asks, observing as Sassy curls up on my knees and blinks sleepily at him.

“I dunno. Just fits.” He keeps staring, one hand slightly lifted from his lap, but not moving any closer. “Here, you want to pet her? She’s nice.”

Nice is a bit of an exaggeration- she’s nice to me, and to a decent amount of my friends, but I’ve seen her puff herself up like a sea urchin in front of Azul and Leona, so maybe it’s conditional. Or maybe she’s just not fond of housewardens.

He lifts his hand and cautiously stretches it toward Sassy. She sniffs his fingers before settling down and closing her eyes, and he cants his fingers along her head. “See? She’s a sweetheart.”

“Hmm.” He passes his fingertips over her head again. It’s quite a light touch, but Sassy doesn’t seem to mind. She just sits there and purrs. “I’m afraid my experience with these creatures is limited- I’ve rarely had the opportunity to see one, much less one that does not regard me as a threat.”

“Cats think you’re a threat?” I ask. He blinks once, twice, three times. Sort of the way he did when we first met. Like I’ve said something a little strange, even though I don’t think I have.

“Some of them,” he says, finally.

“She doesn’t,” I say, watching as Sassy tilts her head to press her ear against his hand. He smiles, rubbing his gloved fingers against her skull.

“No. She does not.” Sassy lets him pet her for a few more moments before turning around once in my lap, then springing onto my shoulders. I sputter awkwardly as she stomps around to find a good position and he half-covers his mouth to hide his little smile. “Is she truly too heavy for you to manage?”

I groan, still slightly bent over under her as Sassy plants her paws across my shoulders and upper back. “No, it’s not that she weighs a lot. It’s that- ow- her claws keep digging into my shoulders.” I reach back and bodily pick her up to place her in a better position. She settles on the one shoulder I place her on with a little dignity.

His eyes widen, green irises practically glowing in the dim light. “I am always surprised by how… delicate human skin is. To be pierced so easily to cause pain…”

“It’s not that bad,” I protest, a bit insulted. “And I’m not in pain so much as it’s just kind of uncomfortable.” He looked at me, clearly unconvinced. “I can handle pain! I’ll have you know that I got my wisdom teeth out and I didn’t even complain that much.”

He slowly tilts his head to one side. “Wisdom teeth?” His brows pull together. “Humans have… wise teeth?”

“Oh, uh, no, not exactly. Most of our teeth come in when we’re young, but there’s a set of molars-” Wait, does he know what molars are? “-the teeth in that back, that come in when we’re older. So they’re called wisdom teeth, since you’re supposed to be older and wiser when you get them. Thought they come in at your late teens and early twenties, so maybe they should be the opposite of wisdom teeth…”

“Fascinating.” His eyes are still wide and glowing, pupils tiny slashes of black. “I did not know humans continued to gain teeth as they grow. Perhaps we are not so different after all.”

“We don’t really get more teeth. It’s just those ones,” I say. He looks slightly disheartened. “And most people get them taken out, anyway.”

“Taken… out?”

“Yeah, they get a bunch of tools and they knock you out and take the teeth out of your jaw,” I explain. Admittedly, I’m making it sound a little worse than it is, but it’s sort of gratifying to see the look of mild horror that crosses his face. Humans aren’t such pathetic weaklings now, are we?

“Why?” he asks. “Is it for some sort of ritual purpose, perhaps?”

“No. Our mouths are too small for them, so when they try to come in, they get stuck or start impacting the other teeth. Not everyone has to get them taken out, either- they don’t come in for some people, and for some people, they’re spaced out enough that they don’t cause problems. I had to get all four teeth removed, though.”

“Humans,” he says, “grow useless teeth that cause nothing but trouble and need to have them removed?” He blinks once, hand resting against his chin. “How strange.”

“They weren’t always useless. People think that before humans had technology, when we chewed tougher food, the wisdom teeth were necessary. But they’re not now. Like the appendix.”

There’s a long pause. He brows furrow. “The appendix… in a book? I find them quite useful.”

“No, like the organ,” I offer. He shakes his head slowly. “There’s an organ in a human body, the appendix. It’s pretty small. Scientists think it did more stuff in the past, but now it’s pretty superfluous- the main thing people know it for is that sometimes it swells up and explodes and you have to get it taken out before that happens-”

“Humans have organs that can explode?” He’s usually so calm and collected that the expression on his face is pretty funny- his eyes go wide and alarmed and his mouth pinches down at the edges. He looks downright horrified. I hurry to reassure him.

“No, no, it’s not like they explode in a big fiery ball or anything, it’s not that kind of explosion.” His expression grows marginally less alarmed, though he still looks bewildered. “I mean that they can get infected and they swell with, I guess puss and bacteria, and eventually they pop and dump all that stuff straight into your abdominal cavity. If that happens, you usually die from it. But usually people can feel that something’s wrong and they go to the doctor and get the appendix taken out before it pops, so it’s usually all fine.”

He blinks. Once. Twice. “Has this ever happened to you?”

“No. Never.” An unpleasant thought occurs to me. “I hope it doesn’t happen here. I don’t know what the healthcare system is, but if it’s anything like the once back home, I’m never going to be able to pay back those bills.” That’s… something new to add to the list of ‘worries that keep me up at night.’ It’s a long list.

“You said there are signs,” he presses, shaking me out of my thoughts. “Things that would tell a person they need to see a healer?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I say, a little absentmindedly. “Stomach pain and nausea, usually on your lower right side, that keeps getting worse. A lot of people say it’s the worst thing they’ve ever felt, so worse than just a normal stomachache. There’s supposed to be a test you can do.” I hope I’m remembering it correctly. “If you take two fingers and push them gently but firmly into the skin below your belly button or toward the left of it and the pain gets immediately worse, especially on your right side, then you probably have appendicitis and need to get it checked out.”

He nods, looking enormously serious. “Thank you, child of man. That is valuable information.” He stands up, drawing his long coat in around him as he does so. “I will endeavor to repay what you have shared with me.”

“You don’t have to,” I say, a little bewildered. Do Fae have appendixes? Why does he need to know this? “It was nice seeing you again.”

He looks like he’s in a rush all of a sudden, but he pauses long enough to give me a smile over his shoulder. “I share the sentiment. We will see each other again soon.”

There’s a pop of green lights that scatter into tiny, flickering spots that drift across the garden before fading away. I heave Sassy off of me and stand, stretching my now somewhat numb legs. It’s a shame that Hornton never stays long- I suppose it’s late and he goes on these walks for solitude, so I can’t blame him for that. And the visits are pleasant enough- a break from the stresses of school life, where I’m not the useless, magicless prefect and he’s not… well, whatever it is that makes it hard for him to get peace and quiet. It’s kind of a peace for us both. I’ll look forward to his next visit.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 28

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: angst

A/N: its angst season again!!

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky looked around like a crazed maniac, looking for anyone, just anyone who could be responsible for the letter he was holding in his hands. His blood seemed to freeze in his veins just like they used to when they held him hostage in the Russian base. Those words were tattooed in his retina, as it dawned on him he had once again to keep her safe. His ears started ringing like they always did when they used to trigger him, the ring itself replacing any other environment sound, becoming so loud it fully overcame over his senses, rendering him particularly useless. Not that he was of use lately.

     - Bucky? - Y/N’s sister, Claire, called out to him. Almost mechanically, he stuffed the letter in his back pocket. - Are you okay? You look a bit shocked. Any naughty Christmas post cards?

     - Just a bit ... cold.

     - Yeah, Y/N said you were not very comfortable with it. Sorry about that, I was just trying to keep you away from Aunt Petunia. She’s too much.

     - Thanks, Claire. Hm ... do you have any landline? I need to make a call to the US and my plan is running out. 

     - Yeah, no worries. There’s one in the hall by Y/N’s bedroom. - she gave him a warm smile which was reminiscent of Y/N yet did little to nothing to calm him down. He handed her the rest of the mail before climbing up the stairs to the same hall which had doors on each side. Yet, despite it looking like a maze all he cared about was that small telephone on the table. 

Her picked the phone, leaning it against his ear as the rolled the dial to Steve’s number, the letter firmly mashed in his fist as he wanted nothing more than to burn it in the big fire place but he couldn’t. All he could think of was whoever had broken into Y/N’s flat back had followed them to London and once again he had been incapable of protecting her. He had let whoever was sending her those nasty messages, get to her in one of her most safe places. The other line rang like the passage of long times, until he heard the voice which had become synonymous with freedom and America together.

    - Steve Rogers.

    - Steve, they did it it again. - he snapped before he could even tell who it was on the phone. Yet, if his oldest friend couldn’t figure out his voice after so many years then maybe he needed new friends.

    - Buck?

    - Someone left a letter on her mail box calling her a whore again. You and Natasha were on it trying to figure out who did it in New York. - he continued on like an out of control mess. 

    - Buck, calm down. Was the handwriting similar? Maybe it’s a prank.

    - There’s no handwriting just magazine cut outs and it’s not a prank. 

Y/N stepped out of the car, walking over to the luggage holder to help her father take the shopping bags out while her mother walked up to the door to unlock it before they could climb up the stairs. Her father opened the truck of the small red car which they had had since she was a baby. She still remembered her father picking her up from ballet practice, the red colour bright through the cloudy skies. It always felt so safe to enter through those doors, almost if there was no harm whenever she was inside the old metal vehicle. Things were so simple back then and evil was so hardly defined and bordered away from her. She had had a good childhood, good parents, good family so why was she so scared whenever she was in New York? Why was she so intrinsically insecure and meek?

   - So, beanie, you and James. Does he treat you well? - he asked as he handed her some bags and christmas boxes.

   - He’s just perfect, dad. 

   - Then what is it? 

   - What do you mean? - she looked over her shoulder.

   -  Well, you’re my daughter, you’ve been my daughter for over 5 years now and I like to think I know you better than you think. What’s wrong, Y/N?

   - I’m just homesick, dad. - she faked a smile, pushing her hat further down her head, trying to fiddle with something else. - New York is different from here and well, stardom is different from here. It has nothing to do with Bucky. 

   - He makes you happy?

   - He does. 

    - Then I’m happy for you, beanie. - her father kissed the top of her head, carrying half the shopping bags and gifts onto the home while Y/N stood back looking at the neighbourhood she’d grown up in. It wasn’t perfect, no place in the world is perfect but it had a much more emotional connection to her than her place in SoHo. Of course, maybe it was just her own rose coloured glasses of being away from such a structured, planned 3 year ahead career. 

She smiled softly at the houses in exposed brick shades and the coloured blue and red doors with big gold number. Rows and rows of houses which seemed never ending when she was younger yet now seemed so quickly fading from view. Nothing is everlasting and she remembered so well thinking everything was but maybe it was for the best. Good things end to give way to better ones and bad things end become they no longer suit you.

Y/N looked over her shoulder one last time before entering the house. She put the bags near the other ones neatly stacked by the staircase before pulling her coat and jacket off. The house was always filled with noise, it was never quiet. Always abundant with laughter or discussions about the silly topics. This time, they were discussing some weird plot on the television. However, Bucky was nowhere to be seen. 

   -  Did you not invite Bucky? - she crossed her arms, giving her siblings the dirtiest look she could muster. - Guys, I asked you to include him.

   -  We did but your boyfriend has been on an international call for the last hour. It’s gonna add up. - Colin retorted.

   - I’m gonna go check on him. - she reminded herself to tell Colin off for that backhanded comment but she was much more preoccupied with Bucky. Sure, he did enjoy his loneliness but Y/N didn’t want him to feel alienated. She did not want him to feel lonely or like a stranger in her home. Climbing up the stairwell, she noticed him at the end of the hall, old telephone she used to toy around with when she was a kid pretending to call her family yet, unlike her past childhood self, Bucky had the phone firmly pressed against his ears, lips tight, one hand holding himself against the table. 

She noticed his indisposition, his muscles so tight she wondered how come he hadn’t had a cramp and like any empath she approached him with her characteristic sunny attitude, wrapping her arms around his waist, putting herself on her tip toes to kiss him. Bucky, however, moved his head to the side, mumbling something over on the phone in Russian, switching languages as if he did not want her to hear his conversation. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, her overthinking nature picking at her brain as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Bucky turned around slightly to kiss her on top of her head like one does to a child or a friend. 

    - I’m on a call now, princess. - he held her arm up to wrap it from his waist.

    - Okay. I’ll just go ... go have a shower.

She delayed her exit, almost waiting for him to kiss her like he always did whenever she left. However, Bucky quickly returned to his call, in Russian, and she got the message loud and clear. She tried not to think much about it, after all Bucky was still related to the Avengers and despite being his girlfriend, she was not expect to be into that sort of information. She tried to convince herself of that fact as she stepped onto the cold porcelain of her shower floor. The water fell from her head onto her shoulder as she scrubbed the dirt off her body, constantly telling her inner anxiety, Bucky was merely busy. If she were busy she wouldn’t have liked her partner being clingy. He was busy. 

She turned off the shower, wrapping herself in the fluffy bathrobe she probably had had since she was 18, hair still damp as she slide her feet into fluffy slippers and walked into her bedroom. Bucky was sat in her bed, laptop on his lap as he typed the keyboard so harshly one would think he’d break the keys. She smiled to herself as she took the side near him, head laying on top his cozy black jumper, probably dampening the fabric but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he didn’t even seen to mind her presence, merely ignoring it. She looked up at him, moving to kiss his jaw with an innocence type of request which was anything but innocent. 

  - Buck. - she said in a sing song type of voice, almost like a mermaid calling out for a sailor. - Why don’t we finish what we started in the airplane?

  - Not today, princess. - he kissed the top of her head once again. - I’m not in the mood for it.

  - Oh ... hum ... okay. - she almost retracted back into her shell at those words. Had she done something this morning? Something to upset him? Maybe he didn’t enjoy her leaving him alone with her family. - Do you wanna go out for dinner?

  - I don’t think it’s wise, princess. They might ... pap us or someth’ng. 

Did he not want to be papped with her? Maybe he was still upset over the pap photos she had willingly given away. She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know. Instead, she decided to turn around in the bed, still naked under her bathroom and stare at the wall until she felt sleep weigh on her eyelids. Bucky, on the other side, had his wild eyes glued to the screen, watching the security tape of her apartment over and over again. It had been cut, he knew it had from the time changing sharply, however, he couldn’t see anything which would be of any aid. All he knew was that not only had he failed his job as an Avenger, he failed his job as her bodyguard and failed to protect her like any boyfriend would do. Would it be in a club he could’ve just punched the daylights out of whoever dared to call her that but right now he couldn’t. He didn’t know how to make it stop. 

Bucky closed the laptop, putting it on the floor as he looked through his mind about who could want to hurt her, who cold do anything to want her to suffer. He could no figure it out and all he wanted was to figure it out. He leaned against the bars of her bedpost, looking over to his side to see her sleeping on her side, hand under her face and hair drying in front of his face. He carefully pushed the hair away from her face, tucking her into her large duvet before kissing her cheekbone. He couldn’t bring it upon himself to say anything, to tell her the letter came in. Bucky still remembered how she had reacted last time and he did not want it to happen again, he did not want her to feel unsafe in her own home. Instead, he let himself fast asleep next to her.

The morning woke Y/N up, the strange brightness of a sunny winter day hurting her eyes. She groaned, raising her torso from the bed, eyes blurry as she opened them. Rubbing the sleep off her eyes she extended her arm to notice Bucky’s spot was empty. She furrowed her brows, jumping off bed and walking outside and down the stairs onto the living room where most of her siblings and their partners were.

    - Wow, Y/N. Clothes under the bathrobe, much? - Eloise teased. 

    - Where’s Bucky? - she ignored her sister.

    - He went out. - Claire added, handing her a cup of tea. - Said he had to grab some stuff. 

    - Oh ... okay. He didn’t say anything.

    - He probably didn’t want to wake you up. - Claire patted her shoulder, kind smile on her lips. 

     - Or maybe he’s cheating on you. - Colin added, only to be slapped over the head by Eloise. - Hey, what was that for? I was joking.

     - He’s not cheating on you. - Claire reassured her. - Colin is just being an ass. 

     - What? I was joking!  

     - Not with Y/N, you idiot. - Eloise muttered under her breathe. - Maybe you should go put your clothes on, Y/N. Bucky is probably just Christmas gift shopping.

     - Or maybe he got lost? He is like 200 years old. Did you give him a pager? He might be lost in Piccadilly Circus or maybe he can’t get out the underground. 

     - Fuck off, Colin. - Y/N snapped at him before returning up to her bedroom.

He knew her brother was just trying to get under her skin. Bucky was not cheating on her, when did he even have time to find someone in London to cheat her with? Maybe he had some contacts in London from when he used to come to missions with the Avengers. Maybe he had someone in London for him. No. No, Bucky did not. Bucky wouldn’t cheat on her, Bucky liked her but he was acting out of style to him. She sat on her bed, hand in the middle of her legs as she tried to stop herself from overthinking things that were absolutely ridiculous. Since she was no good at doing such thing, she called the only person who normally could push her back to reality. 

    - Chuck? I have a problem. 

    - Jesus, Y/N. Have you forgotten time zones? - Chuck groaned on the other side of the line. - You better be dying.

    - Bucky is acting weird. 

    - Bucky always acts weird. What’s your point?

    - I don’t know, Chuck. It feels weird. I even tried ... initiating IT and he said no. Do you think he’s not attracted to me anymore? He didn’t even want to kiss me

    - Maybe he was not in the mood, Y/N. Also, why are you so freaked out about saying sex? Are you sexually repressed? Did you try to initiate some kinky sex with Bucky and maybe his old man penis wasn’t okay with it?

    - Can we not discuss my boyfriend’s penis, please?

    - What? He’s old, maybe it hasn’t been getting up. Did you ask him? Maybe he forgot to pack Viagra and he’s ashamed. 

    - Chuck. It is not that.

    - I don’t know, Y/N. Maybe spice it up. Dress up like Princess Leia in Empire Strikes Back. Every man is into it.

    - Bucky hasn’t seen Star Wars.

    - I don’t know what was sexually appealing in the 40s, Y/N. Don’t you have that lingerie set they made you wear for Rocky Horror? Use that. Maybe he really just wasn’t in the mood.

    - Okay ... yeah. Uhm, maybe it will work. 

    - Great. Now, I need to sleep because it is too late and there’s a girl in my bed and I don’t want her to think I have you on the side.

    - Oh, is she a nice girl?

    - Y/N ever since you lost your virginity you get very boring when you don’t get a dick appointment. Go on and do it with Bucky and we’ll talk later.

    - Okay, thank you.

    - Bye, bye. 

Y/N stared at herself in the mirror. She never really saw herself a sexual being or a sexual girl at all. After all, she was the one who got told by three guys at her university freshers party she had the sexual charisma of a toaster. Now the metaphor did not make any sense but all she knew was that it probably did not make any sense. It wasn’t that she wasn’t comfortable with her own sexuality, she just didn’t think about it outside of work. Maybe Bucky was used to girls who put a bit more effort and wasn’t very attracted to her very old bathrobe and her Marks and Spencers cotton underwear. She shrugged it off, opening her wardrobe to skim through some of the costumes she had worn until she found the white lacy set. It was better than her regular cotton underwear. She put her robe back on looking at herself in the mirror as she gave herself a pep talk. He’s not cheating on her. She knows he would never do that.

She sat down in her bed, going over some scripts sent over by the agency until midday when Bucky came into the bedroom, on the phone with someone else, still speaking Russian. She waited for him to finish his call before she walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

    - Sorry for not telling you, Y/N. I had to make some calls with the team.

    - It’s okay. - she smiled at him. - I was just thinking maybe ... maybe we could have some us time. My parents went to do the groceries and my siblings won’t bother us, besides I have something I want to show you.

    - Sorry, not in the mood. I need to call Steve. - he took his jacket off, putting it on the edge of her bed. - It’s urgent, princess.

    - Oh, okay. 

    - Can I use the landline? Pretty sure I still haven’t figured out  how to make international calls. 

    - Yeah. - he kissed the top of her head once more. 

She sat on her bed defeated. Her mind going through everything she could’ve possibly done wrong the morning she left with her parents. Maybe he really wasn’t in the mood, however he did seem pretty eager that morning. She sighed. Damned Colin and his stupid backside comment. She sighed, rolling in her bed, the movement making his jacket fall to the ground. Great Y/N, now you’re wrinkling his clothes. She got up from her bed to grab the jacket for a letter to fall on the ground. She looked to the side, leaning down to pick the letter only to drop it once she saw the writing. You cannot hide, whore.  She grabbed it from the ground before storming out to the hall, pulling the cable out the wall, effectively stopping Bucky’s call.

   - When were you gonna tell me?

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[bamf-jaskier]

Okay so I’m going to try and do a comparison of some of the major scenes between Geralt and Yennefer in Bottled Appetites vs The Last Wish. 

Warning: this is a very long post and I tried to keep it as short as possible but Geralt and Yennefer is the relationship that is mainly focused on in both the short story and the show so there’s..a lot of content here. 

Now, before I really jump in it’s important to note that the show is basically the spark notes version of the book, there’s a lot of missing content in the show mostly because the book just has so much more complexity so for a brief timeline:

Jaskier is injured

Talks to Chireadan 

Meets Yennefer

Take Bath Together 

Yennefer mind-controls Geralt and send him off to go fight some council members

THEN this is where the show and book differ 

In the books, Yennefer’s mind-control has more obvious consequences and Geralt gets into legal trouble and there’s a whole scene with some town leaders threatening Geralt and Jaskier. (Although it is important to note Yennefer in the books has a back-up plan to save Geralt)

As well when Geralt goes to stop Yennefer in the books from capturing the Djinn  she portals away with Geralt and they hate-crash a Noble’s party before having a conversation and fighting the Djinn again, Geralt makes his third wish and then they have sex 

So basically the townspeople sub-plot is removed in the show and the Djinn fight is streamlined into one-scene instead of multiple. Now understanding that, let’s get into the scene comparisons. 

Geralt Meeting Yennefer:

The Last Wish:

“You parried my spell,” she finally said. “You're not a sorcerer; that's obvious. But you reacted exceptionally fast. Tell me who you are, stranger who has come in peace. And I advise you to speak quickly.”

“I’m Geralt of Rivia. A witcher.”

Yennefer leaned out of the bed, grasping a faun—engraved on the pole—by a piece of anatomy well adapted to being grasped. Without taking her eyes off Geralt, she picked a coat with a fur collar up off the floor and wrapped herself up in it tightly before getting up. She poured herself another mug of juice without hurrying, drank it in one go, coughed and came closer. Geralt discreetly rubbed his lower back which, a moment ago, had collided painfully with the wall.

“Geralt of Rivia,” repeated the sorceress, looking at him from behind black lashes. “How did you get in here? And for what reason? You didn't hurt Berrant, I hope?”

“No. I didn't. Lady Yennefer, I need your help.”

“A witcher,” she muttered, coming up even closer and wrapping the coat around her more tightly. “Not only is it the first one I’ve seen up close but it's none other than the famous White Wolf. I’ve heard about you.”

“I can imagine.”

“I don't know what you can imagine.” 

She yawned, then came even closer. “May I?” She touched his cheek and looked him in the eyes. He clenched his jaw. “Do your pupils automatically adapt to light or can you narrow and dilate them according to your will?”

“Yennefer,” he said calmly, “I rode nonstop all day from Rinde. I waited all night for the gates to open. I gave your doorman, who didn't want to let me in, a blow to the head. I disturbed your sleep and peace, discourteously and importunately. All because my friend needs help which only you can give him. Give it to him, please, and then, if you like, we can talk about mutations and aberrations.”

She took a step back and contorted her lips unpleasantly. “What sort of help do you mean?”

“The regeneration of organs injured through magic. The throat, larynx and vocal cords. An injury caused by a scarlet mist. Or something very much like it.”

The Show:

Yennefer: And quite a bit more. You’re immune.

Geralt: You must be the mage.

Yennefer: Yennefer of Vengerberg. 

Geralt: Hm. Chireadan didn’t mention that, uh…

Yennefer: What did he fail to mention?

Geralt: We need your help.

Yennefer: “We”? [Geralt looks to Jaskier who gives a feeble wave.] Just a friend, I hope? [Geralt looks back at her.] Your heartbeat, it’s extraordinarily slow. You’re… a mutant.

Geralt: A witcher. Geralt of Rivia.

Yennefer: The famous White Wolf! [Standing up she steps close to Geralt.] I thought you’d have fangs or horns or something.

Geralt: I had them filed down.

Yennefer: [chuckles] First time I’ve seen a witcher up close. [She circles him, looks him over.] What little spells can you cast with your hands? Call it professional curiosity.

Geralt: Please, Jaskier here needs immediate attention. And then, if you’d like, I’ll indulge your curiosity all night long.

Yennefer: It won’t take all night. But I’m sure we can find a way to fill the time.

Geralt: [holding up the small sack with the pot’s shards] He was attacked by a djinn.

Yennefer: A djinn?

Geralt: Whatever’s wrong with him, it’s spreading. [Yennefer takes the sack and inspects the contents.] Fix it and I’ll pay you. Whatever the price.

Yennefer: You’ll have to do better than juice. [to the undulating figures] "Ragamuffin"!

In the books there is no orgy sequence, instead Yennefer has been mainly just been fucking with the merchant Beau Berrant, who in the show is the Mayor of Rinde. The apple juice sequence occurs in both adaptations and Geralt goes to Yennefer. In the books, Yennefer is alone in Berrant’s bedchambers, in the show she is in the orgy sequence. If you read the passages, they share the same bare bones. Yennefer tries to bespell Geralt, he is immune, she comments on his mutation, Geralt asks for help. 

Yennefer and Geralt have the same flirtatious overtones in both adaptations. Honestly I don’t have much to say here because it parallels relatively well as far as characterization goes. I will say I prefer the book’s prose but I also understand that the show has more simplistic writing and wording. 

Anya Chalotra has fantastic energy in playing Yennefer and the tension between the actors in this scene are quite apparent. 

Bathing Together:

The Last Wish:

She entered the bath-chamber just as Geralt, sitting naked on a tiny stool, was pouring water over himself from a bucket. He cleared his throat and modestly turned his back to her.

“Don't be embarrassed,” she said, throwing an armful of clothing on the hook. “I don't faint at the sight of a naked man. Triss Merigold, a friend, says if you've seen one, you've seen them all.”

He got up, wrapping a towel round his hips.

“Beautiful scar.” She smiled, looking at his chest. “What was it? Did you fall under the blade in a sawmill?”

He didn't answer. The sorceress continued to observe him, tilting her head coquettishly.

“The first witcher I can look at from close up, and completely naked at that. Aha!” She leaned over, listening. “I can hear your heart beat. It's very slow. Can you control how much adrenalin you secrete? Oh, forgive me my professional curiosity. Apparently, you're touchy about the qualities of your own body. You're wont to describe these qualities using words which I greatly dislike, lapsing into pompous sarcasm with it, something I dislike even more.”

He didn't answer.“Well, enough of that. My bath is getting cold.” Yennefer moved as if she wanted to discard her coat, then hesitated. “I’ll take my bath while you talk, to save time. But I don't want to embarrass you and, besides, we hardly know each other. So then, taking decency into account—”

“I’ll turn around,” he proposed hesitantly.“No. I have to see the eyes of the person I’m talking to. I’ve got a better idea.”

He heard an incantation being recited, felt his medallion quiver and saw the black coat softly slip to the floor. Then he heard the water splashing.

“Now I can't see your eyes, Yennefer,” he said. “And that's a pity.”

The invisible sorceress snorted and splashed in the tub. “Go on.”

The Show:

[Later, in the bathroom, Geralt takes a bath while Yennefer keeps him company]

Yennefer: Fishing for a djinn seems an extreme measure to remedy sleeplessness.

Geralt: When extreme measures seem reasonable, yes, I’m desperate.

Yennefer: And yet you didn’t ask me to help with that.

Geralt: Looming death kind of jumped the queue. Now I’m wondering if I can afford you. Have I accidentally agreed to indentured servitude? [Yennefer notices his scars.] Go ahead, ask about them. Everyone does.

Yennefer: Everyone else is boring. [She undresses and steps into the tub.] Turn around.

Geralt: [Tries to look at her in a mirror, but Yennefer moves it with magic so he can’t see] That’s cheating.

Yennefer: Nobody smart plays fair. Tell me, are all witchers similarly blessed? [She sits down so they’re back to back.] Come now, you promised.

Geralt: Hm. I haven’t conducted a survey, but I’d hardly say we’re blessed.

Okay!! Now I can get more into the characterization differences because oh boy are there some here. First, Yennefer mentions Triss in the books which I would have loved to see in the show but the main thing here is how they objectify each other. In both adaptations, Yennefer notices Geralt’s scars when they begin to bathe together but in the books, Yennefer uses it as a way to pry more into the biological functions of Witchers whereas in the show she uses it as a way to talk about their shitty childhoods. 

This ties into how the show, instead of focusing on the more biological aspects of Witchers, focuses on the tragic backstory of the characters. Of course, Lauren is of the mindset (like much of fandom) that Witchers are more animalistic while Sapko really pushes the idea that Witchers are creations of science so it makes sense the show wouldn’t want to talk about Witcher science as much. 

As well, in the books, Geralt is rather respectful to Yennefer, promising to avert his gaze and she ends up turning invisible so she can objectify him but he can’t objectify her. It places Yennefer in charge and the obviously more powerful force in the room. 

In the show, Geralt tries to take a peak at Yennefer and they sit back to back, establishing them as equals. And this is no mistake. In the books, Yennefer is quite a bit older than Geralt, she is powerful mage and Geralt is just a guy. Yennefer is the one in power in their relationship and that is obvious in every aspect of their relationship. 

The show made Geralt 32 years older than Yennefer. They push a narrative of Yennefer and Geralt being on more equal footing (or even at times go as far as to make Geralt seem the more mature and older one which we will see later with Yennefer not being aware of the Wish). 

This reverses a lot of the show/book dynamic where instead of Yennefer being the dominant one she is on equal footing with Geralt. Of course, this is likely due to Henry Cavill being around 37 and Anya Chalotra being around 23. Hollywood is allergic to the older woman/younger man dynamic that is seen in the books so making Yennefer seem younger is not a problem specific to The Witcher but with Hollywood at large.  (Not to say it isn’t still bad to see this perpetuated in the show because it is)

Yennefer mind-controlling Geralt:

The Last Wish:

“He's asleep,” said Yennefer. “And dreaming.”

Geralt examined the patterns traced on the floor. The magic hidden within them was palpable, but he knew it was a dormant magic. It brought to mind the purr of a sleeping lion, without suggesting how the roar might sound.

“What is this, Yennefer?”

“A trap.”

“For what?”

“For you, for the time being.” The sorceress turned the key in the lock, then turned it over in her hand. The key disappeared.

“And thus I’m trapped,” he said coldly. “What now? Are you going to assault my virtue?”

“Don't flatter yourself.” Yennefer sat on the edge of the bed. Dandilion, still smiling like a moron, groaned quietly. It was, without a doubt, a groan of bliss.

“I already knew what you were like,” she continued, “after exchanging a few words with you in Beau's bedroom. And I knew what form of payment I’d demand from you. My accounts in Rinde could be settled by anyone, including Chireadan. But you're the one who's going to do it because you have to pay me. For your insolence, for the cold way you look at me, for the eyes which fish for every detail, for your stony face and sarcastic tone of voice. For thinking that you could stand face-to-face with Yennefer of Vergerberg and believe her to be full of self-admiration and arrogance, a calculating witch, while staring at her soapy tits. Pay up, Geralt of Rivia!”

She grabbed his hair with both hands and kissed him violently on the lips, sinking her teeth into them like a vampire. The medallion on his neck quivered and it felt to Geralt as if the chain was shrinking and strangling him. Something blazed in his head while a terrible humming filled his ears. He stopped seeing the sorceress's violet eyes and fell into darkness.He was kneeling. Yennefer was talking to him in a gentle, soft voice.“You remember?”

“Yes, my lady.” It was his own voice.

“So go and carry out my instructions.”

“At your command, my lady.”

“You may kiss my hand.”

“Thank you, my lady.”He felt himself approach her on his knees. 

Ten thousand bees buzzed in his head. Her hand smelt of lilac and gooseberries. Lilac and gooseberries…Lilac and gooseberries…A flash. Darkness.

The Show:

Yennefer: If you wake him before he’s healed, the spell won’t take. That’s no way to treat a friend, Geralt.

Geralt: You want the djinn, but the amphora’s broken. The djinn’s already long gone. [Suddenly the candles around the sign flare up.]

Yennefer: [rubbing perfume onto her wrists] Do go on. Tell me how stuff works. The djinn is tied to this plane and its master. How many wishes did the bard express before he lost his voice?

Geralt: You need Jaskier to make his last wish so you can capture it.

Yennefer: So that’s… two then.

Geralt: The djinn will fight you. If you try and bend it- [He breaks off, clears his throat then inhales.] Ah… That scent… Lilac and…

Yennefer: Gooseberries. [Geralt exhales sharply.] Tough to get in your head. You have a strong will, but you can’t contend with me. Sorry I couldn’t be direct, I knew you’d fight it. [She leans up to kiss him, bites on his bottom lip until it bleeds.] And I do love a good old-fashioned trap.

Geralt: [slurring] A good old-fashioned… nap. [His eyes flutter shut.]

I mentioned how the show is a spark notes? Well, in the books Yennefer finds out through interrogating Geralt in the bath how many wishes are left. As well, in the books Yennefer is much more physically violent, again asserting the idea that she is the dominant one in the relationship and that she is in charge. 

Honestly, the show softens Yennefer quite a bit in this scene. While she does bite his lip, it’s slowly and not particularly violent. In the books, she is compared to a vampire, grabbing his hair, pulling him down. 

It all ties into the softer, younger version of Yennefer we see in the show vs the books. She is not as aggressive in the show and also not as dominant. Again, this could be due to the actor’s age difference but I also think it ties into Hollywood’s avoidance of placing women in a position that is above a male character. (Especially with Henry Cavill as Geralt, he would be unlikely to play a more subservient role to a woman purposefully considering some of his past statements about Me Too). However, having Yennefer as less aggressive also might make her more relatable to the audience and have her be more likable. At least, that could be what the writers were going for but I’m not psychic and I couldn’t tell you for sure. 

Geralt trying to save Yennefer from the Djinn:

The Last Wish:

“Yennefer saw him, jumped up and raised her hand.

“No!” he shouted, “don't do this! I want to help you!”

“Help?” She snorted. “You?”

“Me.”

“In spite of what I did to you?”

“In spite of it.”

“Interesting. But not important. I don't need your help. Get out of here.”

“No.”

“Get out of here!” she yelled, grimacing ominously. “It's getting dangerous! The whole thing's getting out of control; do you understand? I can't master him. I don't get it, but the scoundrel isn't weakening at all! I caught him once he'd fulfilled the troubadour's third wish and I should have him in the sphere by now. But he's not getting any weaker! Dammit, it looks as if he's getting stronger! But I’m still going to get the better of him. I’ll break—”

“You won't break him, Yennefer. He'll kill you.”

“It's not so easy to kill me—”

She broke off. The whole roof of the tavern suddenly flared up. The vision projected by the sphere dissolved in the brightness. A huge fiery rectangle appeared on the ceiling. The sorceress cursed as she lifted her hands, and sparks gushed from her fingers. 

“Run, Geralt!”

“What's happening, Yennefer?”

“He's located me…” She groaned, flushing red with effort. “He wants to get at me. He's creating his own portal to get in. He can't break loose but he'll get in by the portal. I can't—I can't stop him!”

“Yennefer—”

“Don't distract me! I’ve got to concentrate…Geralt, you've got to get out of here. I’ll open my portal, a way for you to escape. Be careful; it'll be a random portal. I haven't got time or strength for any other…I don't know where you'll end up…but you'll be safe…Get ready—.” 

... (description paragraph skip)

“This way!” shouted Yennefer, indicating the portal which she had conjured up oh the wall by the stairs. In comparison to the one created by the genie, the sorceress's portal looked feeble, extremely inferior. “This way, Geralt! Run for it!”

“Only with you!”

Yennefer, sweeping the air with her hands, was shouting incantations and the many-colored fetters showered sparks and creaked. The djinn whirled like the bumble-bee, pulling the bonds tight, then loosening them. Slowly but surely he was drawing closer to the sorceress. Yennefer did not back away.

The witcher leapt to her, deftly tripped her up, grabbed her by the waist with one hand and dug the other into her hair at the nape. Yennefer cursed nastily  and thumped him in the neck with her elbow. He didn't let go of her. The penetrating smell of ozone, created by the curses, didn't kill the smell of lilac and gooseberries. Geralt stilled the sorceress's kicking legs and jumped, raising her straight up to the opalescently flickering nothingness of the lesser portal.

 The Show:

[In the bedroom]

Yennefer: [still chanting in Elder]

Geralt: [as he enters, Yennefer lifts a hand in his direction.] Don’t! I’m here to help you.

Yennefer: [lowers her hand] I don’t need your help. You’re free. No longer under my spell.

Geralt: And yet here I am.

Yennefer: You seem to want to meet your end.

Geralt: As do you.

Yennefer: [groans] The djinn isn’t weakening. The bard expressed his last wish, but it’s- [screams] it’s getting stronger! Go!

Geralt: That’s because I’m the one with the wishes.

Yennefer: You? You’re the djinn’s master?

Geralt: Yeah.

Yennefer: Well, what are you waiting for? [She screams as her bones crack.] Make your wishes!

Geralt: Becoming the vessel for the djinn will have you lose control, not gain it! Can’t you see what this is doing to you?

Yennefer: True transformation is painful.

Geralt: Release the djinn! I’ll give you my last wish!

Yennefer: You heroic protector… noble dog, permitting my success so long as you command it yourself. Fuck off! I’ll do this myself!

Geralt: Damn it, Yennefer! Tell me what you want!

Yennefer: I want everything!

[In the bedroom, Yennefer’s eyes have gone red, her voice distorted]

Djinn: [speaking through Yennefer] Make your wish! You can have anything you want! You could choose not to be a witcher. What do you desire? Immortality? Riches? Fame? Power?

Geralt: I wish… [The rest of his words are drowned out by the wind. Yennefer falls forward and the wind calms down. Geralt pulls up his sleeve to reveal the third cut.]

Yennefer: The djinn… Wh- Where did it go? [The house groans and creaks, and the two look to the ceiling as it crashes down.]

Yennefer still craves power and wants for everything in the show. In the books, she is more established and wants to try and control the Djinn. This is why when Geralt comes back for Yennefer, both versions express surprise at why Geralt would come back to help after they cast a spell on him but Netflix!Yennefer tells Geralt to fuck off on the basis she doesn’t want a man controlling her life (tying into the Strong Female Character Trope) while Book!Yennefer wants Geralt out of danger first and foremost.

Of course, much of this in the show is likely a response to try and subvert the “damsel in distress” stereotype and while the books have Yennefer as the dominant one and in control, showing that she in not in distress, the show has her explicitly point this out because she is not established as the dominant one as much as in the books. 

The show constantly is more overt with its themes that the books which are far more subtle. 

Yennefer is mad at Geralt and then they have sex:

The Last Wish (Warning this is rather long and I even tried to shorten it without removing content!!):

“You moron!” Yennefer yelled, trying to scratch out his eyes. “You bloody idiot! You stopped me! I nearly had him!”

“You had shit-all!” he shouted back, furious. “I saved your life, you stupid witch!”

She hissed like a furious cat; her palms showered sparks.

Geralt, turning his face away, caught her by both wrists and they rolled among the oysters, seaweed and crushed ice.

“Do you have an invitation?” A portly man with the golden chain of a chamberlain on his chest was looking at them with a haughty expression.

“Screw yourself!” screamed Yennefer, still trying to scratch Geralt's eyes out.

“The wish, Geralt! Hurry up! What do you desire? Immortality? Riches? Fame? Power? Might? Privileges? Hurry, we haven't any time!” He was silent

“Humanity,” she said suddenly, smiling nastily. “I’ve guessed, haven't I? That's what you want; that's what you dream of! Of release, of the freedom to be who you want, not who you have to be. The djinn will fulfill that wish, Geralt. Just say it.”

He stayed silent.

She stood over him in the flickering radiance of the wizard's sphere, in the glow of magic, amidst the flashes of rays restraining the djinn, streaming hair and eyes blazing violet, erect, slender, dark, terrible…

And beautiful.

All of a sudden she leaned over and looked him in the eyes. He caught the scent of lilac and gooseberries.

“You're not saying anything,” she hissed. “So what is it you desire, witcher? What is your most hidden dream? Is it that you don't know or you can't decide? Look for it within yourself, look deeply and carefully because, I swear by the Force, you won't get another chance like this!”

But he suddenly knew the truth. He knew it. He knew what she used to be. What she remembered, what she couldn't forget, what she lived with. Who she really was before she had become a sorceress.

Her cold, penetrating, angry and wise eyes were those of a hunchback. He was horrified. No, not of the truth. He was horrified that she would read his thoughts, find out what he had guessed. That she would never forgive him for it. He deadened that thought within himself, killed it, threw it from his memory forever, without trace, feeling, as he did so, enormous relief. Feeling that—

The ceiling cracked open. The djinn, entangled in the net of the now fading rays, tumbled right on top of them, roaring, and in that roar were triumph and murder lust. Yennefer leapt to meet him. Light beamed from her hands. Very feeble light.

The djinn opened his mouth and stretched his paws toward her.

The witcher suddenly understood what it was he wanted.

And he made his wish.

... (time skip)

Yennefer, slightly flushed, knelt by him, resting her hands on her knees.

“Witcher.” She cleared her throat. “Are you dead?”

“No.” Geralt wiped the dust from his face and hissed.

Slowly, Yennefer touched his wrist and delicately ran her fingers along his palm. “I burnt you—”

“It's nothing. A few blisters—”

“I’m sorry. You know, the djinn's escaped. For good.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Not much.”

“Good. Help me up, please.”

“Wait,” she whispered. “That wish of yours…I heard what you wished for. I was astounded, simply astounded. I’d have expected anything but to…What made you do it, Geralt? Why…Why me?”

“Don't you know?”

She leaned over him, touched him. He felt her hair, smelling of lilac and gooseberries, brush his face and he suddenly knew that he'd never forget that scent, that soft touch, knew that he'd never be able to compare it to any other scent or touch. Yennefer kissed him and he understood that he'd never desire any lips other than hers, so soft and moist, sweet with lipstick. He knew that, from that moment, only she would exist, her neck, shoulders and breasts freed from her black dress, her delicate, cool skin, which couldn't be compared to any other he had ever touched. He gazed into her violet eyes, the most beautiful eyes in the world, eyes which he feared would become…

Everything. He knew.

“Your wish,” she whispered, her lips very near his ear. “I don't know whether such a wish can ever be fulfilled. I don't know whether there's such a Force in Nature that could fulfill such a wish. But if there is, then you've condemned yourself. Condemned yourself to me.”

He interrupted her with a kiss, an embrace, a touch, caresses and then with everything, his whole being, his every thought, his only thought, everything, everything, everything. They broke the silence with sighs and the rustle of clothing strewn on the floor. 

They broke the silence very gently, lazily, and they were considerate and very thorough. They were caring and tender and, although neither quite knew what caring and tenderness were, they succeeded because they very much wanted to. And they were in no hurry whatsoever. The whole world had ceased to exist for a brief moment, but to them, it seemed like a whole eternity.

And then the world started to exist again; but it existed very differently.

“Geralt?”

“Mmm?”

“What now?”

“I don't know.”

“Nor do I. Because, you see, I…I don't know whether it was worth condemning yourself to me. I don't know how—Wait, what are you doing…? I wanted to tell you—”

“Yennefer…Yen.”

“Yen,” she repeated, giving in to him completely. “Nobody's ever called me that. Say it again.”

“Yen.”

“Geralt.”

The Show:

[Yennefer and Geralt portal into the room inside the manor, where they first met.]

Geralt: Yennefer? [He gets to his knees and shifts the hair of her face.] Yennefer. It’s me… Geralt.

Yennefer: [She opens slowly her eyes, shoves Geralt away and rises.] I know who you are. What did you do? You stopped me, didn’t you? I nearly had it.

Geralt: You had shit all. I saved your life.

Yennefer: And I saved yours! You let the djinn escape. Who knows what havoc it’ll wreak now that it has no vessel at all?

Geralt: No more havoc than you. Djinns are only dark creatures when held captive.

Yennefer: How can you be so sure?

Geralt: When did you last feel happy when you felt trapped? And if you were going to portal us to safety, you could’ve taken us out of this shit town!

Yennefer: A fine critique if you could make a portal yourself. And it wasn’t a shit town, it was a fine town till you came along. I had a plan!

Geralt: [chuckles] And that was going swimmingly!

Yennefer: It was. Like a drowning fish. [They kiss and begin to have sex.]

I tried to keep it short here, but the show combined multiple scenes from the book here. I do love the fact that they kept the shit-all line, it’s a favorite. Of course, many people have likely noticed the HUGE difference between the show and books. In the books, Yennefer knows what the wish is and she’s aware Geralt tied their destinies together. 

The show keeps Yennefer in the dark about the wish (likely as a way to manufacture tension on the mountain and have it be dramatic tm) and this just further places her as the not-dominant one in comparison to Geralt. I will also say I love how in the books, Geralt gets a flashback through Yennefer’s past and her trauma. It would have been interesting to see that in the show. 

This final scene suffers so much in the show by being so shortened. We don’t see Yennefer and Geralt have a long conversation about the consequences of the wish or what they might do next, they just exchange a few lines about the Djinn which makes the sex scene seem more sudden than in the books. 

Of course, I will give props to the actors for the sexual tension they are able to generate in just a few lines as they move closer to each other (granted this tension is ruined as soon as the music starts playing and Jaskier shows up, making the sex scene humorous instead of impactful). 

The last lines in the book passage where Yennefer asks Geralt to call her Yen just breaks my damn heart and I would do anything to have seen it in the show. The way the books showcase two very traumatized people finally finding each other is just so lovely and I don’t understand the directing decision to have the tone of the scene switch so quickly in the show from serious and impactful to light. It takes away a lot from the characters. 

In the end, the show has Yennefer in a less dominant position in the books and also has her act younger in a sense. This could be due to the actor’s age difference or Hollywood’s allergy to dominant women but despite this, the actors bring a lot of chemistry to the screen (especially in the first meeting/bath scenes). 

I would have liked the show to give Yennefer more agency in regards to the wish, especially considering that is her character arc in the show, but I did appreciate how many scenes paralleled each other and I believe at the end of the day, the show was able to preserve enough of Yenralt to make it a believable pairing in the show and I can see them improving the dynamic they have already established throughout the first season in season 2. 

[clanoffetts]

someday. | paz vizsla x fem!reader

Chapter III

masterlist

synopsis: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a courtship blossoms.

warnings/things to note: swearing; reader has hints of PTSD that will be expanded on in further chapters (and those will be tagged with stronger warnings); no use of ‘Y/N’; my fc for Paz is Winston Duke, I don’t describe Paz too much at the moment, but just know that’s who I picture!

word count: 6.4k

karyai - main living room of the covert - a big chamber for talking, resting, and even the last secure stronghold when under attack.

ba’vodu - uncle/aunt

-

The birds of Yavin IV’s song was calming as you came into full consciousness. The sleep from the night before was much needed, and very refreshing. You opened your eyes and looked to where Paz had been before you’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t there. Neither was your sleep mask. “Kriff!” You flung your body onto your right side, looking away from Paz’s side of the bed.  

Shit. Shit. Shit. You’d told him you wouldn't look. Hell, you told him it was impossible for you to look. And here you are, no mask over your eyes. What if he’d been there? After all the time you’d spent convincing him to share the bed with you, that it’d be safe. Sure, you hadn’t actually seen him, but the possibility frightened you. You couldn’t violate him like that, even if it was an accident. You couldn’t live with yourself. 

A few minutes of deep breathing later, you got out of bed, and headed into the ‘fresher. You wanted so badly to take another shower, to relax under the water, but you knew it was important to save water, not sure if the covert had water to spare for your journey. You’d have to be content with washing your face and pretending. 

You stared in the mirror, into your own eyes. You replayed the night before: the vibroblade that now sat with your stuff, the idea of Paz taking you to his home and meeting his family, learning his traditions. The pure bliss you were in as you fell asleep, and then the violent jerk of the morning’s close call. Your eyes were no longer as tired as they had been when you’d looked at yourself last night. 

You threw on jeans and a shirt, and finally left the safety of the ‘fresher. Would Paz be mad about the mask coming off? He was so hesitant as it was, you were terrified that this would push him away, make him realize that there’s too much risk in a relationship with a non-Mando. 

“Kebiin’ika?” Paz called as he heard the door to the bedroom open. 

“Yeah?”

He stood up and met you halfway between the room and the common area. “How’d you sleep?” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a half hug before leading you to the table you’d sat at the night before.

“Pretty good,” you said, taking a seat. “Paz?” He hummed and sat down a bowl of some type of porridge in front of you. “Are you mad at me?”

The helmet snapped up to look at you. “Why would I be mad? If you think you broke the towel rack in the ‘fresher, you haven’t. It’s always been like that.”

“No, Paz,” you said. “About the sleep mask. It came off last night. I’m so sorry, I thought it would stay on. I’m not really a wild sleeper so I don’t know how it happened, but I understand if you’re mad at me-”

“Kebiin’ika,” he says, cutting you off. You suck in a big breath, not realizing how long you’d been rambling. “It’s not that big of a deal to me, it was an accident. You didn’t see my face, right?” 

You nodded. “Right.”

“See? No creeds broken,” he says. He can tell you’re still a little shaken up, and moves to lay his large, gloved hand over your small one. “If I didn’t trust you, mesh’la, I would’ve slept on the cot. I knew the mask came off when I woke up this morning, but I trust you enough that I know you wouldn’t use the opportunity of me being asleep to look, even on accident.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you swear you could hear a smile on his face. “Are you sure? I know I didn’t see anything this time, but I would understand if you want me to take the cot from now on.” He ushered you closer to him, his arm around you. It was a bit awkward with all his armor and clothes, but the heart was there. “Kebiin’ika,” he said. “I’m comfortable with sleeping the way we did last night as long as you are. I’m not worried.”

You sighed, leaning into him. The beskar was cold and you just wanted to feel him, his warm skin. “Ok,” you say. “If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”

“Good,” he replies. “Now, why don’t you finish eating while I call the covert. Tell them that I’ll be there shortly to pick up some of our supplies, ok?”

You nodded, and he let you out of his embrace. While spooning the food into your mouth, you watched him at the hull, punching some numbers into his gauntlet and then speaking in what you assumed was Mando’a. It was such a beautiful language, especially coming from Paz’s mouth. And he spoke it with a pride in his voice that he didn’t have when speaking Basic. 

“Alright, mesh’la,” he said as you got to the bottom of the bowl. “I’ll be back soon, no more than two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Yes, two hours,” he laughed. “It may be sooner, but you never know. Mandalorians take a long time to say goodbye.”

You smiled at him. “Alright, have fun,” you say.

“Oh, I will,” he replies. You watched as the mountain of blue beskar exited the ship and mounted the speeder the two of you rode the day before. A lot has changed since then, you thought. Before you knew it, Paz Vizsla was gone and a dirt cloud took his place.

-

Paz’s ride back to his home didn’t take too long at all. And when he arrived, he spotted Din and Grogu on some rocks outside the entrance. 

“C’mon, Grogu,” Din is saying. “You can do it.” Grogu sat on a rock opposite Din, with his eyes closed. In Din’s hand was Grogu’s beskar ball. Grogu and his ball were inseparable. 

As Paz dismounted and began walking towards the hangar, Grogu’s eyes shot open and he let out an excited shriek. Paz didn’t speak fifty-year-old-toddler, but he figured it was something along the lines of “ba’vodu!”. 

Din turned around, too, and stood. He picked up his little foundling and greeted Paz half way. “How was your evening?”

“Nice,” Paz says. “Yours?”

Din nods. “Mine was ok, but I don’t have a pretty mechanic in my room like you do.”

Paz rolled his eyes. “Din, it’s not like that.” 

Grogu made a sound of protest. “Hm,” Din said. “My Jedi son seems to think differently. He’s never wrong about these things…” Din teases. 

Paz stops just as they’re about to open the blast doors. “Din, Grogu,” Paz says. “Just between us?”

“Just between us,” Din says, and Grogu babbles. 

Paz sighed, was he really doing this? He was. “We’re courting.”

“I knew it!” Din exclaims, and Grogu laughs. “I knew it, Paz. So what’d you give her?”

Paz patted the empty sheath. “Vibroblade.”

“Classic,” Din says. “What will you propose marriage with? Something of her homeworld’s tradition? Or wait and exchange blades that Armorer makes?”

Paz shakes his head, and he’s smiling beneath his bucket. “Maker, Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Though he figured it’d be blades. You didn’t seem too fond of being reminded of Alderaan. “But I’ll put your name in if we need a wedding planner.”

“You better,” Din replies. “Armorer will want to know, too.”

Paz nodded. “I know. I’m not sure I’ll tell her this time. I don’t want word getting out.”

“She won’t tell anyone, you know that.”

“I know, but still,” Paz said, finally punching in the code and opening the doors. “But we’ve got a covert of eavesdroppers.”

There was a child tending to one of his chores just inside, and as soon as he spotted Paz, he practically lunged at him. “Paz!”

“Hey, ad’ika,” Paz says, taking the young kid up onto one of his arms. “I didn’t get to see you yesterday!”

“I know,” he said. “My buir had me at home practicing math. Math! Can you believe it?”

Paz laughed. “Knowing your buir? Yes, yes I can.” 

The group walked further inside the winding the halls of the covert, adding new people to their crew as they saw them. Eventually they reached the karyai, and everyone got comfortable on the many cushions, chairs, and sofas littered about the room.

Paz stayed standing. “Sorry, everyone,” he said when he noticed their disappointment that he wasn’t going to be there long. “But I’ve got my end of a deal to hold up, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Paz noticed that at the mention of a her, helmets turned to the side, looking at each other, silently gossiping. 

“Then come in here, Paz,” Armorer says, at the doorway to her forge. “And we’ll discuss what you need.” 

Paz obeyed, making his way through all the Mandalorians relaxing in the karyai. He closed the door behind him, and sat at Armorer’s table. “We’ve compiled some things for your journey,” she says. “It’s not much, but it’s what we have. It’s in the hangar, I’m sure Clan Djarin would be happy to assist you in taking it back to your ship.”

“I’m sure it’s more than enough,” Paz replies. “Thank you, Armorer.”

She nodded. “Now, how happy was your mechanic at being left on the ship for so long yesterday?” 

Paz could hear her smirk. “She got bored. Wasn’t there when I got back,” he said. “I almost lost my mind, but she was just in the little town, shopping.”

Armorer let out a soft chuckle. “And you’re trying to tell everyone you aren’t smitten? Maker, Vizsla, I’d think you’d be better with convincing by now.”

Paz sighed. “You’d think.” 

Armorer’s stare bore into him. For Mandalorians, it usually wasn’t intimidating when another looked at you through their visor. It was normal. But Armorer’s presence was different, she was intimidating. “Where is your vibroblade?” 

Kriff. “It’s right here,” he said, patting the sheath on his left side, where his second vibroblade sat. 

“No, not that one,” she said. “The one I forged for you when you donned your helmet. I swear you had it yesterday.”

Well, he might as well tell her at this point. She wouldn’t believe that he’d lost it, this blade had Mandalorian and Vizsla carvings in it, he rarely used it in combat. “Don’t tell anyone this,” Paz said. “I want it to be a secret for now, ok?”

She nodded. 

“I gave it to her. The mechanic.”

Armorer sucked in a breath so sharp that her vocoder picked it up. “As a courtship proposal?” Paz nodded. “I wish you both many blessings, many warriors,” she said. Paz didn’t know if you wanted warriors, but Armorer’s blessings were traditional, and carried a lot of weight.

“Thank you, Armorer,” he replies. “I will pass along the message.”

“If you two are courting, then why didn’t you bring her here? Are you still going on your journey?”

Paz nodded. “She has unfinished business in the Hosnian system,” he didn’t tell her what business. It wasn’t his place, and Armorer understood. “We’ll be back, though I’m not sure when.”

“Long hyperspace travel will be good for your relationship.” Armorer entered counselor mode. “Building trust and love.”

Paz always felt a bit awkward when she became a psychologist. So he just nodded. “Anyways, you said the supplies were in the hangar?” 

She nodded. “Take care of her, Paz,” she said. They both stood. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Paz repeated. 

Paz exited the Armorer’s workshop. Back in the karyai, some people had gone back to their rooms or to tend to their duties, but many still sat around. “Din?” Paz said to his friend.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t happen to know where Bezza is, do you?”

Din nodded. “Last I saw she was in one of the sparring rooms.” Paz thanked him and headed off down one of the long corridors towards the training rooms. 

All the sparring room doors were open except one. Paz opened it gently, and looked inside. Bezza wielded the beskar staff Din had brought back with him. She was sparring with a reprogrammed droid, the only one in the covert. Paz watched with pride as she jabbed at the droid, careful not to hurt it too much. There were still children that would need to learn from sparring with the machine. 

As she landed a final blow, the droid declared her the winner, and she backed off. Paz clapped from his place at the door. “That was very impressive,” he said. “You’ve gotten used to the armor quite well.”

“Paz!” She dropped the staff and walked towards her friend. “No one told me you were here.” 

“That’s probably best,” Paz said. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to not repeat it, ok?”

Bezza nodded. “Ok. But if you tried to bring a Loth-cat in again, I’m not making any promises.”

Paz laughed. “It’s not a Loth-cat. It’s about my girl.”

“Your girl?”

Paz nodded. “We’re courting.” 

Bezza threw her arms around her ba’vodu. “Paz that’s wonderful!” Their beskar sang as he patted Bezza on the back. When she finally let go she said, “Are you guys staying here? When do you think you’ll marry? I know Mandalorian courtships tend to not last long, but she’s not a Mandalorian so-”

Paz cut off her rambling by saying, “I don’t know. Like I told Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Bezza laughed. “Of course you haven’t. How many people have you told, Paz? You know if you tell the wrong person, your courtship will be the topic at many dinner tables tonight.”

“I know,” Paz replied. “Only you, Din, and Armorer know.”

“Ok,” she said. “So I take it you’re not going to stay here?”

Paz shook his head. “We’re off to Hosnian Prime as soon as I get back with the supplies.” Somehow, Paz could sense Bezza’s disappointment. He wanted so badly to be there for her, help her through her losses, but he’d made a promise to you. A Mandalorian’s honor was their everything. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be there, but we’ll be coming back here. Maybe even to stay.”

“What’s even on Hosnian Prime?”

Paz sighed. He wanted to tell her, to give her a detailed reason so maybe she felt better. But, again, it wasn’t his place. “She has some business to take care of, Bez.”

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Can I walk with you to the hangar?” Paz nodded and they left the sparring room. All the way there, Bezza asked questions in typical teenage fashion. What’s her name? What’s she like? What color is her hair? And Paz answered them all. He figured you wouldn’t mind, and they weren’t too personal. All her questions reminded Paz of just how young she was. Other Mandalorians would understand not to ask those questions, just as Bezza would, in time. 

In the hangar were Din and Grogu and that kriffing ball. Din had already loaded the speeder bikes with the fuel and food, and was now just killing time with his son. “Din!” Paz called. “I’m just about ready.”

Paz turned to Bezza. “When I get back we’ll start a plan for your training. There’s still a lot to get used to in the armor, especially with the jetpack.”

“Ok,” she said. “Hurry back, alright? And be safe!” Paz and Bezza exchanged a few more goodbyes, and he promised to pass on her hello to you. 

Finally, Paz and Din had mounted the speeder bikes. Grogu sat in a carrier on Din’s chest, obviously excited to feel the wind whip around his long ears. The men had unspokenly made it a race, revving their engines and attempting to pass each other without knocking their cargo loose. 

-

You sat outside the ship, taking in the fresh air as the Mandalorians arrived in a cloud of dust, Mando’a, and a baby’s shriek. A baby? You thought. 

You got on your feet and approached the speeders. To your surprise, the Mandalorian in unpainted beskar greeted you by name. Quite a lot kinder than the stare he’d met you with when you’d first arrived. “Hello,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Then your eyes finally dropped from the helmet to the carrier on his chest. “Who’s this?” 

“My son,” the Mando said. “His name is Grogu.”

You smiled at the baby. “Hello, Grogu,” you said, and introduced yourself to him. Grogu’s tiny little arms reached out for you, and with Mando's permission, you picked him up. “You’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you, Grogu?” He babbled excitedly. 

The two of you stood back as Din and Paz began loading the supplies onto the ship. “Your dad is very strong, Grogu,” you tell him as Din lifts a large crate off the bike and into the cargo hold. “Are you going to be strong like him?” Grogu gives you a strong response. This kid has to be a handful, you thought. Grogu stayed gripped onto you, his three little fingers wrapped around your one, gurgling and babbling like he made all the sense in the world. You, of course, humored him, and had a deep conversation about the inflation of credits as the shift from Imperial credits to New Republic credits took place. 

Eventually, the men were done, the ship was loaded and refueled. “Alright, Grogu,” you say. “I think your dad will be wanting you back.” You placed a kiss to the top of his odd green head, and attempted to hand him over to the Mando. Grogu had other ideas. His fingers stayed gripped on the back of your t-shirt. 

“Grogu,” Din said. “We have to go. Come on.”

You laughed at the little baby, amazed at how he’d become so attached to you in such little time. “Go on, hon,” you coax. “Your uncle and I will be back soon, I promise.” His big, dark eyes looked up at you, and then he allowed you to pass his little body to his father, who fastened him into the carrier. 

“Safe travels, you two,” Mando said, and attached the bike Paz rode to his own, and him and Grogu were off. 

Finally, you were able to give Paz a hug. “Ready, kebiin’ika?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Let me call Leia before we go,” you say. “I forgot to this morning.”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting in the cockpit whenever you’re ready.” He turned around and disappeared onto the ship. 

You held the holoprojector in front of you, anxious. Surely Leia would want to see you, right? After all your time together…

You sat the projector on a rock and sat down in front of it. You punched in the numbers Leia had sent you a while ago, and waited. Finally, a young girl answered. “May I ask who is calling?” You told her your name. “And who are you calling for?”

“Leia,” you said, and then cringed. “Uh, her royal highness.” You’d never really grasped the royal protocol. 

The girl looked closely. “Is the princess expecting you?”

“Uh, not really,” you said. “But we fought in the Rebellion together. She gave me this number, told me to call if I needed her.”

The girl nodded, and walked out of frame. Hopefully, she’d return with Leia. She did return, but no princess in sight. “Her royal highness will meet with you shortly.” And then she was gone again. 

You sat looking around at the trees, taking in your last minutes on a planet for some time. And even when you got to Hosnian Prime, it would be way different. Hosnian Prime was busy, unlike Dantooine and Yavin IV. 

“Finally!” said a voice. Leia’s. She stood in holo form on the rock, an elegant white dress covered her form and her hair was in two braids down her shoulders. “I’ve been wondering when I’d hear from you.”

“Leia!” you exclaimed. “I’ve wanted to call, but you know how I felt when the war was won…I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”

She frowned. “Oh, stop that,” she said. “I’ll always want to hear from you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get on the line, Korrie is quite protective of me.” 

“I understand,” you smiled. “You are a very important person, your royal highness.”

Leia laughed. “Now, what did I tell you back on Alderaan about formal titles?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a normal person when you’re with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I take it you’re a bit exhausted with decorum at the moment?”

She nodded. “And it doesn’t help that Threepio is the decorum police, either.” The two of you shared a laugh at the droid’s expense. You didn’t know how Leia could stand C-3PO all the time. “Enough with my complaining, are you ok? Is there something you need?”

“Well, I was calling to see if you’d receive me on Hosnian?” you asked. “I want to catch up with you, maybe even a few friends from the old days?”

Leia smiled. “Of course I’ll receive you! When are you leaving? And where from?”

“Yavin IV,” you say. “And hopefully as soon as I hang up with you, if that’s ok?”

She nodded. “That’d be great. I’ll have Korrie send you the coordinates. I can’t wait to see you!” Leia had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, and you couldn’t wait to be in her full presence again. You exchanged goodbyes, and Leia disappeared from the rock. 

Back on the ship, you grabbed a fruit bar from the kitchen and sat in the cockpit. “How was your princess?” Paz asked as he copied the coordinates from your holopad. 

“Good,” you replied. “I had no reason to be anxious, really.”

Paz put a gloved hand over yours on the armrest. “I’m glad it’s working out, mesh’la.” 

“What’s that word mean? You’ve been calling me that all day.”

His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. “It means ‘beautiful’,” he says. 

“Mesh’la,” you repeat. “It’s a beautiful word, no wonder it means beautiful.” Paz chuckled a little at your awe. 

His hand left yours and landed on the controls. “Ready to head out?” You nodded, mouth too full to properly respond, and the take off sequence was activated. The ship rose out of the clearing, and you watched as Yavin IV grew smaller beneath you. You saw a building off in the distance, it looked half underground, with a large hangar at the front. 

“Is that your home?” you ask, pointing out at the structure. 

Paz nodded. “Indeed it is,” he says. 

“That was part of the Rebel base once,” you say, remembering your time here. “I didn’t spend too much time on that part, though. There was a main hangar a little farther down, but after the war Leia had a lot of it removed, so the wildlife could return to normal,” you say. “Guess not all of it was taken.”

The ship finally reached the atmosphere and Paz guided the ship through it with grace. The jump to hyperspace was made, and the ship was on autopilot for the next three days. 

Paz turned to you in his chair. “We live in a rebel base now?”

“Indeed you do,” you say. “I think a lot of that building was quarters for officers and stuff. I’ll bet Leia can tell you when we arrive.”

“You want me to come with you to meet her?”

You looked at him, a little confused. “Of course I do,” you tell him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there and I’m sure that a princess has room to spare. Besides, it’ll do you some good to sleep on a proper bed for a few nights.”

“Are you sure, kebiin’ika? Mandalorians aren’t greeted too kindly.”

“Maybe not in the Outer Rim,” you say. “But that far into the Core? And a guest of Princess Leia’s? I’m sure it'll be ok.”

He nodded. “Ok, then. I’ll come with you.” You smiled at him, wishing so badly to smile at his face and not his helmet. You took his hand in yours, stood up, and led him to the little common area. There was a small sofa pushed against one of the walls, and you motioned for him to sit. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and retreat back to the cockpit. When you return, Paz is sat on the sofa, still as can be. It was still a little creepy, how he could just sit there. You held up your holopad. “First thing to know about dating me is I need designated snuggle and holodrama time.”

He laughed. “Is this a common thing or just a kebiin’ika thing?” 

You sat down next to him, a little confused that he was wondering if cuddling and watching holos was common. “Am I your first girlfriend, Paz?”

“If I say yes will you think I’m weird?”

“No, I won’t think you’re weird.”

“Then yes,” he said. You looked at him, feeling a wave of sadness. Had this man been cuddled ever? Hugged? Loved? You cared for him so much already, and you wanted him to feel those things. 

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s a me thing, but it’s an important thing,” you laugh, setting the holopad up to project against the blank wall of the ship. A show about a Jedi and a Twi’lek healer’s unrequited love played on the wall, a slight silver hue brought by the metal of the ship. You moved to cuddle against him, but the armor was stubborn.

“Could you, like, take some of this off?” You say, gesturing at the metal.

He feigned surprise. “You haven’t even taken me out, mesh’la, and you expect me to strip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just lose some of it so I can cuddle you.” He obeyed, the cuirass and pauldrons going first, and then the gauntlets and gloves. He was left in his fly suit, made of a coarse weave fabric. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do. You moved his arm around you as you settled into his chest. You could tell he wasn’t too sure what to do. “You’re warm,” you sigh.

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says.

“Why are you sorry? It’s nice. Hyperspace gets cold,” you tell him. He was a little tense at first, he wasn’t used to this, he really hadn’t been properly cuddled since before he lost his buire so long ago. 

Paz looked down at you, your head resting against him as you took in the predictable plot of the show. You were relaxed, almost like earlier that morning when he’d woken up. The mask had been gone, and your eyes had gently fluttered in your sleep. Paz felt a tightness in his chest, a feeling he’d been having a lot since you’ve been around. It’s gotten more and more intense, especially as you curled yourself into him. Your touch was burning into his skin in an amazing way, and he knew he’d be able to feel it long after you’d get up. He repeated your it’s nice in his head. No one had ever told him that touching him was nice. In fact, most people hated the touch of a Mandalorian. If they even lived to hate it. 

As the drama went to an ad for some kind of Bantha milk, Paz felt you move to look up at him. “Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you can’t tell me what your Mando friend looks like under his helmet,” you say. “But can you tell me how he fits his ears in the helmet?”

Paz laughed. “What?”

“Well, if his ears are anything like his son’s, I’d imagine it’s hard.”

He threw his head back in a bellow of laughter. “Mesh’la, my friend and his son aren’t the same species. Grogu is a foundling.”

“A foundling?”

He finally recovered from his laughter, and his breath steadied. “Yeah, Mandalorians take in children who’ve lost their parents. My friend was a foundling once, and his son is a foundling.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well that explains the ears, I guess. You weren’t a foundling were you?” You remembered him saying something about Vizslas being important on Mandalore. 

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “The Vizsla line goes as far back into Mandalorian history as I can trace. But most importantly, Tarre Vizsla, who was a Jedi, created the Darksaber. Whoever wields the dark saber is the Mand’alor, our ruler.”

“Who is the Mand’alor now?” you ask. 

He shakes his head. “There isn’t one. Mandalore isn’t the same as it was, it hasn’t been in a very long time. Before I was born, even.”

“Well, you’re a Vizsla aren’t you? Shouldn’t you wield it?”

He laughs a little. “That’s not exactly how it works, mesh’la. Well, it worked like that for a while, but now you must win the saber in combat. Except no one knows where the saber is.” His voice had gotten sad, and he was running his right hand over his left while they sat on your back, some kind of self-soothing. “Besides,” he says, “There’s a lot of Vizslas out there I’m sure, and I don’t want to be a king. That is not the path that I follow.”

“I understand. It all becomes...a bit much,” you agree. Leia had offered you multiple positions on multiple committees in the new Senate, all dealing with labor laws and droids with a bunch of political nonsense you didn’t care to wade through. Not to mention having to represent the voice of mechanics all over the galaxy. No. Too much stress. 

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says. “As much as I like this old, lumpy sofa, don’t you think we’d be more comfy laying in bed?” 

“I’m starting to think you’re a mind reader, Vizsla,” you say. The two of you awkwardly untangle in a mess of limbs and beskar clangs as you accidentally collide with his cuirass that lay on the floor. “Sorry,” you say, moving his armor up onto the sofa and off of the floor. 

“Don’t be,” he reassured. “Beskar is practically invincible.”

The two of you made it into the bedroom, you set your holopad up properly to project onto the blank white wall ahead of the bed, there for this reason exactly. The show was brighter now, and clearer. It was technically late afternoon by Yavin IV time, but in hyperspace it was hard to tell. Paz got rid of the armor on his lower body, the codpiece, thighs and knees, and shins. He also kicked off his boots. 

He looked so beautifully mundane. Doing something that he’d done a million times at this point, probably, and he was an expert. Could do with his eyes closed. And you loved it, you wondered if his brow furrowed under the helmet when he had to prod a clasp a little harder, or if he let out a soft huff when a piece was finally removed. 

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for you to sit between his legs. Kriff, his legs were big. 

You settled between his legs, back against his chest. His hands sat awkwardly on his thighs. “You know you can touch me, right?” you say, moving his hands to lay around your middle. 

“I have to remind myself, mesh’la,” he says. “You’re not a quick fuck. You’re someone I want to be slow with, I’m just not sure how to go about it.” You were a bit surprised at how blunt he was, but honestly? You appreciated it. He wouldn’t be playing games with you. 

You squeezed his hand. “We will go however slow as you want, alright? And don’t be afraid of me, ok? You can ask me anything.” 

“I know, cyare, and I’m grateful for that,” he says softly. He wanted to kiss the top of your head so bad. He’d seen it in holos before, but never really understood the appeal until now. 

At some point, you’d fallen asleep in the Mandalorian’s arms. It wasn’t until an hour later that he woke you up. “Kebiin’ika?” He’s whispering as much as the vocoder will let him. His voice is deep in your ear, and briefly becomes a part of your dream until you finally wake up. 

“How long was I out?” You ask, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you. 

He stood up, stretching his arms, too. “About an hour, I think. I dozed a bit, too.” 

“I’m hungry,” you complain. He agrees, and you’re off to the kitchen. You start making sandwiches with a few of the vegetables you knew he’d bought back on Dantooine. You smiled at them, filled with a bit of nostalgia. That greenhouse of Aliria’s was always a peaceful place. 

Paz is doing the same, though he’s making two sandwiches. You presume it’s because he’s such a large man, and such a strong man too. When you had relaxed into his chest, he was comfortable, a layer of fat that told you he took care of himself, and underneath you knew were strong, hardened muscles. 

“Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to sit with our backs to each other?” you ask. “So we can eat together instead of in shifts?” He nods, finishing up his sandwiches. You grab your plates and make your way to the sofa. He moves his armor back onto the floor a bit clumsily, and has to remind you that beskar is strong. He’s facing to the right, you to the left, backs together. 

“You can lean back on me, cyare,” he says, and you smile at the switch of the nickname. It was kind of nice, not knowing which endearment would envelop you when he opened his mouth. You hear a click and hiss, sounds you’d heard the night before, and then the clunk of his helmet on the ship’s floor. 

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he says between bites. “Armorer and Bezza said to tell you hello.”

You remembered who Armorer was, but your brow furrowed, trying to recall where you’d heard the second name. “Bezza is the girl who you bought the journal for, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind my telling her about us. I’m the closest thing she has to family at the moment.”

You smile. “Of course it’s alright, Paz,” you say. “I’d love to meet her. She sounds very sweet.”

Paz felt a wave of joy rush over him. Bezza was very special to him, even more so now. And now you were special to him, too, and he wanted nothing more than for you two to get along. “If I would’ve known I would’ve brought her with me to the ship instead of my friend,” he said. He had to catch himself before saying Din’s name, knowing that Din was very particular about his name. Bezza, on the other hand, was a more modern Mando. “Maybe once I teach you to use that vibroblade, I can teach you how to wield a staff. Then you two could spar.”

“I don’t know, Paz,” you say. “I’m sure you’re a fantastic teacher, but I don’t see myself holding my own against a Mandalorian in combat.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll train you the Mandalorian way. One day, mesh’la, you will hold your own.”

A silence followed, you could hear the crunch of the chips he’d put in his sandwich as he bit. 

“Is Bezza your foundling now?”

Paz swallowed his bite. “Maybe if she was younger I’d take her in, but she’s practically an adult. I wouldn’t want to insult her by insinuating she still needs caring for.”

“Everyone needs caring for,” you say, leaning your head back against him. “I’m twenty-six and I need caring for, emotionally anyways. I’m not sure how old you are, but I’m sure you do, too.” 

He wasn’t at all shocked that you were twenty-six. He was, however, shocked that his age didn’t ever come up. “I’m forty-three,” he said, hoping that wouldn’t scare you. It didn’t seem to, so he continued. “And I guess you’re right, but still, I can care for her without taking her in.”

“I guess,” you said, and decided to let the topic of Bezza rest for a bit. “Do you think you’ll ever take in a foundling?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to father some kids as well, but also take in foundlings. Not only is it important to the Tribe, but I love kids. That’s why I’m their teacher whenever I’m not out hunting.”

“That’s sweet, Paz,” you tell him. “I’d like a kid, too, I think. Though, it scares me. Making a person inside my body for almost a year.”

“Mandalorians say to train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger,” he says. “I’m sure you can see why. Having children is important, it’s even in the Mandalorian wedding vows: ‘we will raise warriors’.” 

You smile up at the ceiling, picturing you and Paz having a wedding. Some weird mix of Mandalorian and Alderaanian culture, exchanging Mandalorian vows. Maybe it was a bit early to be thinking about this, but you didn’t care. 

-

You watched as Paz cleaned the plates from lunch. He volunteered to take your plate, and now he stood at the sink, scrubbing away the residue of the condiments and components of your lunches. Again, he looked so beautifully mundane, gloves gone, revealing his dark skin to you. Through the bubbles of soap you saw small pink scars littering the top of his hands. He scrubbed away with the brush, working diligently. Again you wondered what kind of face he makes when he concentrates. Does he stick his tongue out a little? Bite on the inside of his lip? 

You thought back to the wedding you’d put together in your mind. You thought about how after those vows were exchanged you’d get to see the face he makes not only when he concentrates, but when he’s happy or frustrated, too. 

He was such a mystery, but also easy to read. It confused you in the best way possible, and all you wanted was to read chapter after chapter of Paz Vizsla until you got to the part where you’d get to see his face, kiss his face, talk to his eyes rather than a visor. Someday, you told yourself. Someday. 

tag list (send me an ask or reply and i’ll add you!!) - @remmysbounty

[ibijau]

Epilogue of the Nomad Nie AU // On AO3

The Lan family comes through the Nie's domain again

After what happened during their last commercial expedition, it took Lan Wangji great effort to be allowed on this one. His uncle, plagued with guilt over being forced to leave Lan Xichen among blood-thirsty barbarians, hadn't wanted to risk his other nephew. Lan Wangji, stubbornly, had insisted for weeks, arguing about experience, about precedence, about simply wanting to, until finally his uncle gave in, as he’d always known he would.

The journey hadn’t been easy. They’d had to hire a new guide after the old one tried to double cross them. That new man, that Wei Wuxian, was extremely irritating at times, but even Lan Qiren admitted that he understood the nomads’ languages better than old Su She had, and that he knew safer passages as well. It wasn’t unlikely that if they’d worked with Wei Wuxian that last time, Lan Xichen wouldn’t have been lost to them.

It was because of Lan Xichen that Lan Wangji had been so insistent on accompanying his uncle on this expedition. He had always been close to his brother, and until he knew for sure that Lan Xichen was fine, that he was treated decently, he would know no rest.

After some weeks of journey, their group finally arrived at the spot where the Nie had demanded they should meet them next time they travelled in this region. Lan Wangji prepared himself to wait a long time, but barely a shichen and a half had passed before they spotted a group of riders coming their way. There was some nervousness at first, in case the nomads’ situation had changed since last time, but as the riders came closer Wei Wuxian confirmed those were indeed Nie, and Lan Qiren soon recognised the Khan who had stolen his nephew.

Not long after, two dozen riders came to stop before their camp, led by the tallest man Lan Wangji had ever seen in his life. Next to that giant Lan Wangji guessed to be the Khan, there were two slimmer silhouettes dressed as richly as could be among nomads, as if they were treating this encounter as a great event. Lan Wangji barely looked at them, searching through the group of nomads for a sign of his brother, finding none. Fear seized him at the idea that Lan Xichen was unallowed or unable to be present, and a glance at his uncle told him that fear was shared.

They watched the Nie dismount, the Khan and those two companions coming closer while the rest stayed back, watching the merchants warily. Stopping in front of Lan Qiren, the Khan said a few stern words at him. Before Wei Wuxian could start translating, one of the two Nie with the Khan did it, in a voice that made Lan Wangji shiver with emotion.

“Khan Mingjue is pleased to find you well again, master Lan,” the man said. “He hopes your travel was pleasant so far, and that it will be peaceful in the future. We have brought provisions to share with you as a gift, as well as some precious items you might be interested to purchase. There’s some really beautiful furs,” the man added in a warmer inflection. “They’ll be easy to trade along the way, and even if you have to take them home I think they’ll fetch a good price.”

“Xichen?” Lan Qiren gasped.

The man smiled and laughed softly, a hint of surprise on his face at the idea he might not have been recognised.

Now that he knew, Lan Wangji couldn’t doubt that this was his brother. It certain was his face, and his too rare laugh. But the rest of him just looked so different that the confusion was natural, surely. After all, Lan Xichen was dressed in the exact same manner as the other Nie around him, and had even done his hair in the same manner as them, decorated with braids instead of tied in a respectable bun. Not only that, but his skin was nowhere as pale as it used to be, as if he’d been working outside in the sun. Lan Wangji might have been outraged on his behalf, if only Lan Xichen hadn’t been smiling so brightly.

“Uncle, it’s good to see you again,” Lan Xichen said, bowing before Lan Qiren. He then noticed that his brother was there as well, and his face illuminated. “Wangji, you came too! I’m really glad. Uncle, brother, I must introduce you to my husband, Huaisang. Huaisang, these men are my family.”

Lan Qiren went pale upon hearing the word husband. Before he could say anything, the smaller man next to Lan Xichen bowed before them as elegantly as if he’d been raised in the imperial palace (he’d trained for this, Lan Xichen later said, eager to make a good impression) and spoke to them in perfect Hanyu.

“I am honoured to meet my husband’s family,” Huaisang said. “I hope we can all get along for many years to come.”

Lan Qiren gaped at his nephew’s spouse, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Then, realising that a mere barbarian was showing better manners than him, he regained control of himself and nodded at the young man.

“I am pleased to meet you as well,” Lan Qiren said in a voice that could hardly have been more displeased. “Although it was my understanding he would be marrying a woman, a Nie princess?”

“Su She wasn’t nearly as good as he thought he was,” Lan Xichen explained, while his husband tried to contain a giggle. “I’m glad you hired someone else this time. I told you back then that it was the Khan’s brother who wanted to marry.”

Lan Qiren looked devastated by the news.

“Xichen, we’ll buy you back. No matter the price…”

“What for?” Lan Xichen asked with sincere surprise, taking his husband’s hand. Huaisang’s expression, which had hardened for a moment, relaxed again. “Uncle, don’t you worry about me, I’m really fine. Though I have a list of things I’d like you to bring, next time you come here. It’s so hard to get paper here, you see, and I’m teaching Huaisang to paint… he’s really quite good, you know.”

Huaisang preened at the compliment. Lan Qiren, too stunned to say anything, just nodded. He hadn’t expected to find Lan Xichen in such high spirits, and neither had Lan Wangji who, in the privacy of his mind, had imagined three dozens scenarios in which he would have to rescue his unfortunate brother from the cruel villains who kept him from his family. He had prepared himself to find Lan Xichen desperate at worst, resigned at best, but instead he found him… happy.

The idea was odd to Lan Wangji.

His brother, in his mind, was a serious person, a kind one, hard-working, dedicated to the family business, caring also when it came to Lan Wangji himself, but he wasn’t sure happy was a word he’d ever have used to describe Lan Xichen. At best, his brother had seemed satisfied with his lot in life, and aware that others weren’t as lucky at him. Since he hadn’t been miserable it had been enough for him, and Lan Wangji hadn’t paid it any mind.

So it was odd to see the way Lan Xichen’s face illuminated every time he looked at his husband, or when he explained he had his own horse. His countenance was more animated than it used to be, his smiles came more easily, he spoke with more spontaneity.

He really was happy, and Lan Wangji wasn’t sure how to feel about it, when that happiness had only been found once far from home.

“Lan Zhan, your brother is not at all what I expected!” Wei Wuxian told him later and they inspected some of the merchandise the Nie wanted to trade. He was standing far too close to Lan Wangji, as he tended to do. “Since you said he’s the oldest I thought he’d be even more stern and boring than you, but he’s actually quite fun!”

Early on, Lan Wangji would have asked their guide why he insisted on pestering him, if he found him so boring. He’d learned the hard way that it was impossible to get a straight answer out of Wei Wuxian. Unless he was working, that man just never took anything seriously at all.

That night, Lan Wangji found that he didn’t mind. Maybe being serious wasn’t such a virtue after all. If letting go of restraint was doing such good to his brother, then surely relaxing a little couldn’t be bad.

“He’s really nice to chat with,” Wei Wuxian insisted, looking at Lan Xichen who was now talking with Lan Qiren, probably still discussing business, Huaisang nodding here and there at their side. “His husband isn’t half bad either, I guess.”

Lan Wangji nodded. That Huaisang stood out like a sore thumb among the Nie, but he seemed decently clever and not too ugly in spite of a somewhat nasty scar on his neck. He wouldn’t have been Lan Wangji’s type if he’d had one, but Lan Xichen seemed immensely fond of him, and that was what mattered.

“How awful though,” Wei Wuxian whined, poking at Lan Wangji’s ribs as if they were friends. “I’ll be out of a job if those nomads start learning Hanyu. Hey, Lan Zhan, you’ll continue hiring me even if you don’t need a translator, right?”

“Hm,” Lan Wangji replied. “I will.”

Wei Wuxian cackled at that promise. Lan Wangji didn’t bother reminding Wei Wuxian that he did far more than just translate and was the best man they could have hired for the job. All his attention was on his brother and that husband of his.

It was good to see Lan Xichen this happy.

[pokeexehasstoppedworking]

Love Doesn’t Do Encores Ch8 Battle Gym Leader Milo

(I have read somewhere sheep love dandelions so Im applying that fact to wooloos. I would also like to note that all side quests shall also be considered a part of the story.)

It would be nice to wake up without pain in your neck, sides, or back wouldn't it? That's what you wished you could do as you were shaken yet again the very next morning by someone. The four of you had decided to set up camp in the nearby camping grounds near the stadium since the day was starting to come too a close and you still weren't used to not sleeping on anything between you and the ground besides the thin floor of the tent and had fallen asleep feeling the hard ground beneath you and it must've taken you at least a good three hours before you had fallen asleep that night. Your sobble softly snoring sleeping on your head. And this morning was just like the rest when you woke up with a slight pain in your neck and back, popping them as you stretched. And with what happened yesterday you must've looked a sight-

"You look like you haven't slept in a month." Yep. It was Gloria decked out in her white gym uniform again ready to take on the day and battle ....or so it seemed.

You yawned and rubbed at your neck. Giving a groan as you already felt your sobble climbing on your back to reach it favorite riding spot and you gave him a look when he flopped half of himself over your shoulder. You were starting to see a pattern with this little guy liking to hitch a ride instead of walking himself.....Hm. Well if he was gonna stick with you for a while maybe you should give him a name? But right now you were more concerned with how much you were yawning. "Haha. I wonder why."

"Is she up?" Victor's head appeared in the opening of the tent next to his twin's and rose a brow at you blinking at the sunlight. "Oh...Wow you weren't wrong? Real case of bed head there, Y/n."

"Glad to know I can scare off Prince Charming," you sarcastically stated, "Although I wasn't expecting any kissing from any royalty anyhow."

Gloria snorted and Victor quickly held up his hands. "WHA- I-I didn't mean to be rude I swear it's just-"

"Ah. It's fine." You cut him off moving to grab your lumpy backpack/pillow at this point and made to crawl out of the tent. "Im always like this in the morning anyways. All I need is a quick hair brush and Im fine. ...What time is it?"

"Pretty early in the morning. We can all head on over to the stadium if you want but we'll still have to wait. Milo's still battling someone at the moment."

It must've been one of the trainers from before you guessed as you completely crawled out reaching up to straighten your hair out in an attempt to look presentable from a night of little sleep. "I guess he's still busy today. Kinda makes me wanna rethink my whole business liscence schtick if this means I'm gonna run a business like that."

"Business stick?"

"...Nevermind. Help me put away the tents then we can head on over to the gym ok?"

The four of you scrambled to put the tents away as you fumbled to get yourself looking half way decent. You doubted anyone would pay too much attention to you being only one random person sitting in the crowd of possibly hundreds of more people...That reminds you. You looked over your shoulder at Gloria who was currently in a pretty deep conversation with her twin whil Hop (tried to-) wrestle the tent down into it's more compact form. Victor mentioned she had stage fright. Not as bad as before stage fright, but still stage fright. He mentioned she had gotten A lot better but it seemed there was still some left since you could still remember her stiff smile and the way Hop had assurringly held his friend's hand out on the field there, which was real sweet of him. You could definately tell he was related to Leon. But it won't be the same here. It's not like you or anyone else would be there to encourage her while on field. The best any of you could do was cheer her on from the stage. Guess the two of you would have to roll with the punches as they were about to hit you. It didn't take too long to pack everything away, and you had helped Hop with his struggling battle to put the tent away. As soon as it was tightly packed away and placed onto Hop's back, you turned ready to journey to the stadium-

"Hey." Gloria's voice stopped you mid step as she pointed back up the way from the stadium. "Before we head on out I need to buy me some dandelions."

You gave her a look like she was crazy. "Dandelions? What would you buy dandelions right now for?"

"Milo's still busy right? Then we have time to get some before we go!"

You had zero idea what in the world Gloria would want with dandelions especially before her first gym battle, but you agreed since it meant you'd have some more time to straighten your hair out. So you agreed and she proceeded to buy dandelions at the florist shope. Stuffing them into her white uniform's pants pocket. She had bought a good amount and you wondered what in the world they were for. A gift for Milo perhaps? By the time the four of you made it back down to the GIGANTIC stadium. Her brother turning to her as you three stopped by to part ways. From here you could hear the cheering from the hundreds of people within and briefly wondered for a moment exactly where all these people came from. Certainly not this small town unless they traveled to see the matches. Which seemed more likely.

"Don't forget to show them your League Card to get in," Victor reminded her.

"I know."

"And stay calm."

"I know."

"Have a clear head and think things through alright."

"I KNOW!! Vic I'll be fine! You guys should get seats and watch me kick some butt!"

You heard him groan and shake his head. "Just....Don't forget what we talked about earlier alright?"

She nodded her head before giving him a smile and turned on her heel to trot on over to the front doors, which was guarded by more of those security people from the first stadium. Hop caught your attention when he nodded his head towards the stadium and you agreed following him as he turned to walk towards around the far side of the stadium with Victor hurrying to following behind. The three of you walked around until you came to two large double doors with stairs leading up and up into the stadium and you followed them screams and cheers becoming more and more promanant until you exited through the top and found yourselves high up and in side the stands....Huh. There wasn't as many people as you thought there would be. There was still a lot of people filling the seats around you but there was considerably less than at he opening Ceremony. There was still a good chunk of empty seats scattered about even with the large crowds. Surrounding the field was hundreds of seats with spectators cheering loudly and chattering likely excited for the next battle with Milo but said Gym Leader was no where to be seen on the field. Your guess was that he was taking a small break before the next battle to be had. You still followed behind them as they walked down the steps(thank GOODNESS that it wasn't as loud as the other stadium. You didn't think you could take that loud of a racket again.) and the lot of you were able to be seated a lot closer to the field this time thanks to the variety of open seats. As the three of you sat down the cheers of the crowd soon turned into loud but managable to your ears murmurs. Your sobble had taken to pushing itself up half on your head to look around interested but you reached up to take him into your lap instead. Neck still stiff from your awkward sleeping position.

It was then you noticed there was no one on the grassy fields below. "Hey. Where is everyone?"

"Gloria must be going through the challenge right now," Victor said it was easier to talk to him now than at the Opening Ceremony. "It took Hop about twenty five minutes to make it through so we'll have to wait and see what happens."

"It wasn't too hard," Hop commented crossing his arms, "In Postwick it's practically a need to know skill how to herd wooloo. A right of passage if you will. That challenge was practically begging me to solve it!"

That's right. Hop and the twins were born and raised amongst these pokemon. This should be fairly easy for them you thought. Or more likely hoped.

"Is this being broadcasted on TV as well?"

"No. Only the Entrance Ceremony and the Champion Matches at the end of the year will be. All the battles at the stadiums are recorded though, but they're uploaded to the Gym Challenge League's official Poketube website. So Mom would still be able to watch us if she wanted too. It helps with the pacing of TV channels and networks and makes it more convienet for anyone watching."

Ah. That makes sense. Guess you just had to wai- ....You blinked and squinted your eyes towards the field and pointed. "Hey. Who's that?"

Both boys looked towards the stadium's giant TV and Hop answered. "Oh. That's Dan. He's the gym's referee here, but he doesn't usually step out on field unless the battle's about to begin."

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! THE BATTLE BETWEEN GYM LEADER MILO AND GYM CHALLENGER GLORIA SHALL BEGIN!!"

All three of you looked rather surprised at what was just said by the blonde man before Hop said what the three of you were thinking. "WHAT?! Already?! How could she have finished the challenge that fast!? It's barely been ten minutes."

You weren't sure yourself but were distracted by the sudden amount of cheers from the crowd as two more figures stepped onto the field. From the far left came Milo, the same man who worriedly apologised for letting his wooloo knock you over and from the right came Gloria..but she looked a bit different. Unlike last time, instead of stiff her movements were fast, jogging her way to the middle keeping her eyes slightly downward as the cameras caught her image and placed them on the screen for everyone to see. The two of them met somewhere in the middle of the field by Dan and although you could see their lips moving as they exchanged a few words you couldn't hear anything. You had guessed you wouldn't unless they had microphones to speak into. Before long the two bowed to each other before turning on their heels and walking away from one another. The flash of Victor's camera making you blink as he proceeded to capture his sister's first real battle of the league. Hop watching with a set determined face. The referee taking a few steps back himself, most likely not wanting to get caught in the crossfires.

"Here we go."

In one fluid motion with a cheer from the crowd, Milo threw a ball out and in a flash of light out came a gossifluer. Gloria mimicked the motion with her own pokeball and to your light surprise it wasn't a scorbunny. It was a corvisquire. The crow bird like pokemon gave a loud caw as it fluttered there awaiting orders. You didn't remember her catching that pokemon. Must've been one of the new ones she managed to capture back before you left Motostoke.

"BATTLE BEGIN!!"

Immediately Milo pointed and his lips moved in yelling in order. Immediately his gossifluer responded by a wind blowing around itself and suddenly leaves danced around it it a tiny tornado before being flung forward towards the bird pokemon. Razor Leaf move perhaps? Gloria's small form (or big form on the giant tv depending on which one you were watching) pointed back and barked something and like a blurred shadow the bird thing shot forward, dodging the leaves thrown at it, and like a seagal plucking a fish from the sea, the tiny gossifluer was quickly snatched up into the claws of the crow thing. You could only watch in worry for the poor thing as the corvisquire flew up, up, up until it would've been considered out of bounds of the gym. Before plummeting like a rock down below. THEY'RE GONNA crash!! Was the first thing in your mind as they went and just at the right moment the pokemon snapped it's wings back up and easily managed to fly away unhurt. A sigh of relief escaped you. Thank goodness....Only...it no longer had the gossifluer in it's claws. Your hold on your sobble increased making it give you a confused chirp, as your f/c eyes instantly went to the part of the field it would've crashed into. Only to catch the part glimpse of a light going back into the pokeball in Milo's hand. That could've only meant that Gloria managed to one hit K.O. the poor pokemon. That didn't sound right, unless the corvisquire she caught was pretty strong or-...Oh no. It couldn't be that- No time to wonder on that now as Milo sent out another pokemon who looked like a walking puffy dandelion. Eldegoss if you remembered right. While Gloria kept her corvisquire....before returning it. Guess she was changing it after all.

"ALL RIGHT!! DYNAMAX TIME!!"

You didn't have time to ask Hop what he meant. A bright red glow oozed out of the band Gloria wore upon her arm as she held her pokeball, it quickly was surrounded by the glowing energy before becoming bigger in her hands. She stumbled a bit seeming to have trouble with the added weight where you for sure thought she'd fall, before uprighting her self and turning around. With her teeth grit, Gloria raised the gigantic red pokeball above her head and tossed it. Your eyes followed it as it sored as high and far as she could- CRAP!! Your hands came up as an explosion of red appeared out of no where like multiply giant fireworks, followed by a whoosh of wind strong enough to push your body back and an UNGODLY giant cry in such high volume you could've sworn your ear drums could burst. There was a very loud chirp of panic and your eyes opened in a panic down to your shirt just as your sobble dove under it to escape the now......FREAKING. GIANT. BIRD THING!!! THAT THING WAS MASSIVE AS YOU STARED AT IT FLYING!! Thank god the stadium was built big enough for that thing to flap it's wings!! Speaking of which every flap sent a gust of wind flying from it, making Victor have to hold hit hat with one hand as he continued taking photos! Good gosh! No wonder your sobble was shaking against you! That'd thing give would give you nightmares too! A red circle of dynama clouds hung over the Corvisquire and it's black body now had a red shine to it. Looks as if Milo had decided to do it as well, because he did the same process of returning his own pokemon and adding the same red energy from his dynamax band. Giving the precious red pokeball a few pats with a smile before turning around and with one arm chucked it into the air behind him. Once again you had to shield your eyes from the bright explosion of red as the giant eldegoss made it's appearance with a slam down on the field that disleveled the ground and shook the stadium from under you. In an instant Gloria pointed towards the dynamaxed grass pokemon and must've given some kind of order you couldn't hear. Because it was at that very moment what you could only describe as a giant whirlwind of a tornado whipped from the corvisquire and straight for the eldegoss in a dead hit. That's right. Dynamaxing was a cool thing, but neither pokemon could dodge each other's attacks they were too big. Dynamaxing was a test of brute will to see how much you could hold out. And you were pretty sure Gloria had the upper hand but not because you thought she was super strong. The high winds made the three of you clutch your seats as it hit the eldegoss head on. If your hair wasnt a mess before it was now. Once the winds (other than the powerful breezes from the bird's wings) died down, you nearly choked seeing Gloria's form on her hands and knees clutching the grass to not be blown from the dirt. HOW WAS MILO STILL STANDING!? With a shriek of it's own the eldegoss leaned it's large head forward and you were surprised when three large green seeds fired off from it's head and landed with giant thuds under the bird's feet. Thank goodness Gloria was already ducking. What sprouted forth was GIGANTIC green mushrooms and grass surrounding it, then it exploded in a giant flash of green light. Giant glowing petals made of energy shooting everywhere before disintergrating into thin air. Green waves of energy washing over the crowds as the bird gave off a giant eagle cry of it's own but still flying in tack. ...That was one tough chicken!

"Eldegoss's Dynamax Move!! Awesome isn't it!?"

You couldn't answer. Another giant eagle cry pierced the air making your ear hurt and two black jet streams poured from it's wings. You watched in horror and shock as the dark jetstreams encircled the poor grass pokemon. Encasing it with a dome of black before exploding in a blast of black. The eldegoss crying out in pain as is tilted towards the ground- OMG! That thing was gonna crush Milo!! The eldegoss went out in an explosion that sent dirt clouds flying up everywhere as it timbered glowing brightly through the dust clouds as it magically shrank down winthin it's own mess. You all watched with baited breath as the clouds spread out and covered the famous gym leader as well, Gloria's bird pokemon glowing a bright reddish color before beginning to shrink down until it was back to it's normal size. It's normal size being about as big as Gloria herself (which was still pretty big but when again you remembered how big corviknight are supposed to get), and perched back onto the ground right next to it's trainer who was staring from her kneeled position as the dust literally settled. At least the giant gusts of wind weren't pushing you against the seats anymore. Maybe you should suggest to Leon to install seat belts on these stands. As the dust finally settled with great relief you saw Milo, unhurt and waving his big sunhat to shoo the dust away. Behind him was a giant crater in the ground and disheveled land. All that was left behind from the battle that had taken place.

"THE BATTLE IS OVER!! VICTORY GOES TO GYM CHALLENGER GLORIA!!"

The absolute UPROAR of the crowd's cheers along with Hop standing up to shout his own cheers to his rival/friend and another flash from Victor's camera signaled him capturing the shocked look on his sister's face just standing there looking around herself....Before you saw the brightest smile Gloria's ever given on her face and hugged her corvisquire making the poor pokemon wobble on it's feet as Milo placed the hat back on his head. The gym leader took a moment to look behind him at the disheveled field and big crater in the ground before looking back to the teenager and approuching her. Gloria seemed to notice because she stopped hugging her pokemon to face Milo with wide eyes as he approuched her. The two exchanged words for a moment before Milo held out his hand in a fist with a smile. Wide eyed she took a moment to stare at it before slowly holding out her own hands and he dropped something into the palm of her hands. Wide eyed and staring straight at it, it only took her a few moment for her to hop about excitedly and hold up the small thing in her hands. The cameras zoomed in enough for you to see that she was holding the same badge Hop had showed you the other day on the TV. She did it!? Her first badge! One more step on your way home! ...At Least you hoped. In the end the two of them shook hands and soon after excited the field as the three of you exited the stands, you taking your sobble and putting him on your shoulder again. The poor shaking pokemon calming quickly noticing there wasn't anymore giant pokemon. Hm. You might have to put him in your backpack from now on if he was gonna react all scared and hide like this. By the time the three of you excited the stands Gloria was already waiting outside the doors she went in. Smiling and bounding over towards you waving the badge around in her hand.

"LOOK AT THIS!!," she yelled excitedly shoving the badge in your faces the bronze-gold shining in the sunlight. "On my first try too! I told you I could do it!"

"You must've took my advice then."

You gave Victor a curious look. "Advice?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We used to play VR battles when we were younger as practice since we didn't have any pokemon. I suggested she pretended it was like the game and try her best."

Oh. Well that worked out pretty well for her anyways. Hopefully it'll work for the next battle as well, but you were a bit concerned that Gloria(and Hop-) only won because Milo and his pokemon was overwhelmed and tired by the onslot of trainers coming so early. But you were reluctant to say so. Not only because you didn't want to disturb the progress of the game's story more than you might have already did just by being here, and because you didn't want to hurt either of their feelings. Weighing your options, you decided that not mentioning it was the better choice for now.

"Congrats! I knew you could do it!," you complimented as she smiled wider.

"Thanks! I guess Hop and I must be on the same battling skill level then!"

"HECK YEAH! Wouldn't expect anything less from the greatest trainers to come out of Postwick!" You chuckled at him. "Oh by the way. What'd you do with all those dandelions you bought? Did you give 'em to Milo or something?"

A sly smile spread across her face. "Nope! I'm surprised you didn't remember."

He rose a brow. "Remember what?"

"Expert on wooloo huh?" She shook her head. "Wooloo love eating dandelions! That's why you barely find any of those flowers where wooloo graze or on farms in general. The objective was to get the wooloo to knock over the hay bails right? What better way than to get them to chase after you with their favorite food?"

Wow. That was actually a really smart idea you had to admit. Growing up in a farming community must really pay off. Hop's jaw practically fell open with this new revolution and his hands hands came up to grip his head. "AW MAN!! Why didn't I think of that!? I got my own wooloo for crying out loud!"

"Hey. It's ok. You're still smarter than me when it comes to science and research. You'd be a pretty good scientist too!"

"Science? Really?"

Hop nodded with a sigh. "Yeah. But it's more of a hobby, I just find learning stuff interesting y'know. But my main goal is to become the next Galar Champion!!"

"Not if I beat you to it!"

"Bring it on, Glory!

"Speaking of becoming champion," you interrupted the two, "Have you guys figured out which person you're gonna battle next?"

Both of them paused before looking at each other and Hop shrugged. "Well, there's really no particular order you have to have to battle in so I can pick anyone I want to battle next. It really doesn't matter as long as you get the eight badges for your Badge Circle...." She looked at you. "But Mr. Milo suggested I should go battle Nessa instead. He said she might be a good challenge for me."

"Nessa? Isn't she that model lady you showed me before?" She nodded.

"No way! That's where we were headed too!" Hop smiled. "This is a great chance to do a bit of traveling together!"

"Hey that sounds like a great idea! But first I want to check out this Turrfield treasure."

You all looked at her confused. "Turrfield treasure?"

She nodded. "I heard from a kid that there's supposed to be some kind 'o treasure around here. I think I figured out the riddle since then and I wanna go check it out before we leave."

"What kind of riddle?"

She made a thinking face. "Uh...Hang on a sec. What did she say how'd it go again? Some treasure lies in Turffield and the way to find it is with the standing stones and a riddle."

"Standing stones?"

"She means the ruins around Turffield," Victor answered you seeing the confusion on your face. "Some people call them 'Standing Stones' since most of them stand upright with their strange carvings."

"Seek the standing stones with Grass before the other ones," Gloria recited, "Use well that strength and find then the strength of it's strength in the end. Dally not if you've a mind to find what time has left behind...I don't know what it means tho."

"I do! It's about Pokemon types duh."

The three of you looked at Hop. "How did you solve that mystery?"

His answer was to point upwards towards the small florist and gift shop. "You remember the gift shop up there we were in?" You nodded confused. "They have this brochure in there with info on the Geoglyph and Standing Stones. I got curious after what Glory said about the thing and had a lil peek. It turns out one of the older standing stones has symbols that spell the word 'Grass' on it. And then there's two other's with 'Water' and 'Fire' cut into 'em too. It's like the three pokemon types. Grass types are usually stronger than water types but water types are usually stronger than fire types. And Fire Types are usually stronger than Grass types. It's a whole cycle of advantage type strengths."

You all were completely floored with such a logical and smart answer to come out of the teen but Gloria seemed the most impressed when she suddenly grabbed onto his hands making the poor boy freeze. "NO! WAY!! Oh my eevee! That makes so much sense! Hop you're a genius!!"

....He blinked a pink hue coming to his cheeks. "I-...I-I am?"

"YES!," she insisted eyes wide, "Who else would've been smart enough to figure out that riddle in one day!? And make the connection with pokemon advantages!" She gave him a tug and he stumbled a bit as she pulled his hands. "C'mon! We gotta go check 'em out! You know where they are right?"

"Wha- GLORIA!! What about our travel plans!?," Victor shouted after her gesturing towards a road that if you looked, was the way out of town.

She waved him off tugging Hop quickly down a different path back towards the Geoglyph. "It's just a quick look see! We'll meet you guys at the Pokemon Nusery on Route Five!!"

"GLORIA WAIT!!.....UGH!!" Victor facepalmed himself with a groan as he stood there and you blinked. "This is why I'm glad she has a traveling buddy." He looked back up at their disappearing forms with a scowl. "She gets one idea in her head there's nothing stopping her from getting it! Then she just rushes off into it without a second thought."

"Then I take it she didn't tell you about tresspassing on the Chairman's mine shafts."

"She did WHAT?!"

"Uh...Nevermind," you deflected pointing down the road. "Should we uh...Go wait for them?" In the end Victor huffed, shook his head, and turned on his heel to begin walking down the road. So you took that as a yes and made to follow him. "So....Where's the way to this Nessa person?"

Victor took a minute to respond with a sigh. "I'm not too sure. I know it's all the way on the other side of Galar in a coastal town called Hulbary. So it's safe to say it'll take some time if they insists on battling her gym next. Let me check my map." You watched and walked beside him patiently as Victor reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Turning on to where the screen lit up and then spoke. "Hey Rotom. How long would it take to travel from the town of Turffield to the town of Halbury?"

Now you know you shouldn't have been surprised considering all phones had a rotom pokemon in it acting as this world's version of 'Hey Google' but you still blinked at the almost robotic voice answering him back. "ZZZZT. Follow on Route 5 to your destination. By Flying Taxi it would take approximately a week. By foot near a month."

"A WHAT!?"

He gave you a look. "Flying is a lot faster than walking, and Halbury's all the way across Galar from here. Of course it would take that long to travel by foot." Oh...right. Not a game. R.I.P your poor feet and the many night of awkward sleeping positions to come. He looked back to his phone messing with something on the screen a few times. "...According to this, Route Five starts once we pass the Pokemon Center and cross Turrfield Bridge. From there it's a straight course right across country to the east coast. It might take a while but it's the most convenient one for all of us."

"Isn't there a train or those taxi things?" Even if you REALY didn't want to try using those birdbrain powered taxi's you didn't like the sound of you walking across country for about a month either.

"Even if we got a taxi you heard Rotom. It'd take like a whole week of flying. And the corviknights need time to rest and eat and sleep too. They're living things just like us. Even cars, trains, and planes need to stop and need time to tune up and refill on gas don't they? And besides there's no train stations or Flying Stations set up in Turffield. If you want a train you'd have to travel back to Motostoke which is half a week, or you'd have to call a taxi from there to pick you up. Besides Gloria has a whole year to complete this task. One month out of eleven more isn't going to hurt anyone."

Except your feet and sleeping abilities but you couldn't argue. He was right. You traveled for four days and waited five for Gloria to get her first badge. You could do it again but longer. As the two of you walked down the road, the town began to fade away a bit behind you as you two traveled down the road. You both were just crossing over a small hill when you noticed a small cabin like building with a sign above his door reading: Turffield Pokemon Nursery. That must've been it! It looked as cozy as it did cute. And a little bit a ways from it was a bridge. That must've been the Turffield Bridge Victor spoke of earlier. Maybe you two should wait for the other two inside? It was pretty sunny out and you've been in the sunlight for a while. As you two walked towards the building, some movement near the bridge caught your eye and your eyes turned towards said movement. And your vision was filled with blurs of black and red and your hearing clogged with yelling. Your hand instinctively coming out to grab Victor's shoulder. The teen stopped from the tug on his shoulder a few yards away from the Pokemon Nursery before giving you a confused look as you stared. He followed your gaze just as what was happening finally registered in your head. It was those goons again! The weird ones that looked like they just stepped out of some kind of rock concert! The same ones from the hotel back in Motostoke! Why were they here tho? Two men who looked about your height a bit taller, were standing there on the bridge just as it connected with the road and backed against a part of the bridge was another man who looked all dressed up to be a doctor. Blue jumpsuit and a mask over half his face as he held up his hands to the men. Now yelling could be heard.

"OI! Just hand over that bike already!," One of them shouted pushing the smaller man's shoulder once, "We need it to cross this long bridge!"

"N-N-No!" The doctor man stammered out backing further against the wall of the bridge. "I-I bought this with my own hard earned money f-f-fair and square! What would two blokes like you even do with it!?"

"We're gonna use that bike ta chase around Gym Challengers! It'll be a scream!," the other said before cackling out with laughter.

"WHAT!? N-NO WAY!! I-Im not letting you two meatheads use my bike to chase around innocent children!"

"...Victor?"

"Yeah I see it." He peered around you brow raised looking at the scene before you two. ''Who the heck are those guys?"

You didn't answer, just stared as the two brutes jabbed the man again demanding his bike (or lack there of as you couldn't see one-) be handed over to them. How mean! But what really caught your attention was mentioning chasing around gym challengers. Now you couldn't remember if anything like this had happened in game but chasing around innocent kids for whatever reason just didn't settle right on your gut. There was two kids with you that were challengers and one could easily mistake Victor for one if you weren't careful.

"....You stay here." To reiterate your point you pulled Victor to the side of the road and firmly planted him there. He blinked and opened his mouth- !? He blinked again once you shoved your backpack into his arms and began walking. Your sobble giving a small chirp of surprise with the sudden movements. "Hold this."

"Wha- H-HEY! Y/N! What're ya doin'!?"

"C'mon old man! Give us the darn bike and we'll leave ya alone! You can get another one!"

The man scowled up at them. "T-Then why dont the two of you BUY one!?"

"Money's tight man! Just give it to us!"

"HEY UGLY!!" Dust sprayed everywhere or at least over one of them. As the three men turned to the sound of a woman's voice only for one of the weird rockstar wannabes to receive a splat of dirt picked up from the road to hit him square in the face and have the rest of it cover his front body. The man sputter/screamed out and hands immediately went to wipe at his face. Luckily none got in his eyes so no pain, but that didn't stop the annoyance. Especially since when he looked back up there was a girl standing there hands on her hips and sobble half hiding behind her head as she point. You gave them the angriest scowl you could muster. "You two KISS lookin' airheads leave that poor man alone! He already said no so beat it before I make you!!"

Behind you Victor's jaw dropped and the two goons seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment. Looking between the two of them confused before scowling and looking back to you. Crap. These two were both at least a good foot or two taller than you were. You hadn't really thought ahead but no turning back now.

"Oi! Girly, why don't ya mind your own business?"

"Yeah! This doesn't concern you!" They said leaning over you. Unknownt to anyone your sobble was starting to get a bit teary eyed at the two above him.

"It IS my concern if you're going around hassling innocent people! What'd the guy do to you two?! Back off and leave him alone before I call Officer Jenny on your arses!" Really you didn't know if this region had an Officer Jenny, but it seemed to work as their scowled wavered a bit.

"Whatcha gonna have us arrested for!? We haven't done any crimes yet!"

"Yeah yet! And what about you two planning on scaring everyone you see?"

"Last chance Girly!" One poked your shoulder as if to intimidate you. "Mind your own busines-"

"WWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

The three of you were interrupted by a loud almost baby like wail as you immediately cringed from it being from directly next to your head. You hissed hands coming to cover your eyes in a panic feeling tears start to sting from them. Was the pain of the yelling so loud you started crying?! If you could've seen past your furious wiping and tears you would've noticed the other men starting to cry as well, face paint starting to run down their faces.

"AAA!! M-Man what's goin' on!?", one shouted to his companion.

"I-...I D-DONT KNOW!! LET'S JUST GET OUT OF HERE OK!?"

They fled. Bumping into you and knocking you over in the process. You yelped as you fell to your butt on the dirt road and your sobble let out a choked hiccup as it was jostled from your head and onto the grassy ground in the men's haste to escape. Well...the baby cry was gone at least, but there was still a few hiccups from behind you as you hissed and used your sleeve to furiously wipe at your stinging eyes. WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT ALL ABOUT!?

"OMG! Y/N! ARE YOU ALRIGHT!? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?"

"Here young lady. Turn your head up." You blinked crying to see past the stinging of your tear soaked eyes and someone gently grabbed your jaw. A Second later a wet cloth was wiping at your eyes. Almost instant relief came from your sore red eyes as someone wiped at them. "There we go. Lucky for you I always have a Sobble Tear Cloth handy on me due to how sensitive the little ones can be." Once you got enough clear vision you could see the faces of Victor and the doctor man who were both kneeled next to your fallen body. "There now. How do you feel?"

".....Peachy,'' you mumbled shaking your head from his grip. "What was that?"

"Your sobble crying. When sobbles cry it's like someone chops a hundred onions near you. It's a defense mechanism that's highly affective as you can see. The effects take a while to wear off but luckily for you I happen to be an expert on these kids of things." Grabbing your arm the man carefully helped you on your feet and smiled behind the mask. "Thank you kindly for the help. But you didn't have to, Im sure they would've left sooner or later."

You waved a hand sniffing as said sobble began to immediately start climbing up your pants leg again. Combined with your wooloo bowling trip, you must've really looked a sight. "It's fine. Can't be worse than being knocked over by a wooloo. Are you alright, Mister?"

He nodded. "Yes. Thanks to you. Here. Let's get you to the Nursery. There's some eye drops in my office that might help you further. I work there as one of the nurses with the caretaker and her assistant."

You nodded and with the urge to wipe at your eyes the Docter and Victor helped you stumble walked your way towards the Nursery, your sobble continuing to climb up your body with little difficulty as it reached your shoulder. You felt it touch your cheek and give a small chirp but at the moment you paid it no mind trying not to fall over.

"Hey, Vick-...Oh wow. What happened? Was Y/n crying or something?"

Oh great. Well at least they finally showed up.

"Ill tell you later. Opening the door over there and let's get her inside."

The next thing you knew you were inside a cozy looking house and was given eye drops. It took a few minutes for you to go back to normal and the redness around your eyes to subside. But by the time it did you were feeling way better and sitting on a green couch. One hand petting your sobble who happily accepted the affection with a smile. Hop and Gloria had returned from their small search a little bit after you had managed to chase those men off, and they happily explained their trip from standing stone to standing stone...But unfortunately didn't find anything other than an old ten dollar bill that someone most likely accidentally dropped while visiting them. And Victor got to scold you about just walking up to strangers like that. Weren't you the grown up here? Glad to know everyone was ok tho. The elderly lady at the center had offered the four of you tea as thanks for helping to rescue their nurse and Gloria excused herself to check out the Center's Free Pokeboxes in their own rotomi stations. When you asked about it Hop was happy to explain.

"Oh. Free Pokeboxes are basically boxes from people's rotomi boxes. Usually Nurseries and Centers get a whole lot of them if a pokemon's trainer passes away, or if they were donated or abandoned to the system. From there they're sorta put up for adoption or released back into the wild if no one claims them within a year or so.....Y'know I think Ill take a look too. I might just find a neat new partner." He got up to go join Gloria currently flipping through options on the rotomi leaving you with Victor sitting on the couch.

You sighed. "Man. Some day it's been huh? A riddle solved. A gym battle won. And now a nurse was saved."

"All thanks to you. But please maybe don't be so reckless next time. I was afraid something bad might've happened to you by what those brutes yelled running off."

"Oh? What'd they say?"

He hummed. "Um....I think....'You're too strong!" He tried to repeat in a failed attempt at a deep man voice. "If you stay in the Gym Challenge you're gonna cause problems for our lady! You haven't seen the last of us! We're gonna make sure you stay out of our lady's way!'..Or something like that."

Well that perked your interest. You stared at him. "Our lady?...Does that mean someone ordered them to go after Gym Challengers?"

He hummed a more worried look coming over him. "Could be. But I wouldn't know who or why. Who'd want to go after the Gym Challengers?"

That was a very good question. You wracked your brain for a moment. Was there any person in the game with a pack of goons? And was there any lady out to stop the gym challengers? Your memory turned up nothing as you sighed and sunk back into your seat on the couch as you did. Those goons were at the hotel and now here as well. That couldn't just be a coincidence could it? No...You had a feeling there was something linking those guys to whatever's about to happen to you. Too bad you didn't know. As you both silently sat there, another person walked in through the door and up to the counter but you paid them no mind even as Gloria approuched them.

Eventually you sighed. "I wouldn't know either it seems, but just in case I think we should all be keeping a really close eye out for anymore of those guys and let Leon know the first chance we get. As the saying goes better be safe than sorry."

"Couldn't agree more. Especially since this is concerning my friend and sister."

"What's concerning us?"

Oh that was Hop. You turned. "We wanted to tell you about-" You blinked coming face to face with a grumpy purple face in the arms of Gloria as she held the tiny pokemon clinging to her like a baby. ...You pointed. "Where did you get that?"

"My Toxel? The lady that just came in wanted to drop it off. Somethin' bout hatching it and not being the pokemon she wanted or some speel. I couldn't just let a cutie like this go into adoption or tossed out in the cruel wild after just being hatched." She held it up to her face as she smiled. "Look at how cute you are! Who'd wouldn't want acutie pie like you?" The baby toxel in her arms responded by reaching an arm out and grabbing her nose. Aw! Cute.

You shook you head with a smile before standing. Lifting an arm up with your sobble clinging to it to allow it to freely crawl back onto your shoulder before you stood up slinging your pack over your shoulders. "C'mon. I'll tell you as we walk. The sooner we start the sooner we can reach Halbury and our next step of this little adventure."

[indestinatus]

Yellow Brick Road

TIVATOBER 2020 // DAY 17

↳ prompt: Scarecrow - rated T (1,726 words)

summary: Alone in the hideout from Sahar, Ziva finds herself doing something she didn’t expect, which brings back memories from the past. 

A/N: also known as - if you chose to read one story of this whole series, please let this be the one.

read it on AO3 🌾

Heavy rain poured down on the gray tiles of the sidewalk. There was enough water on the street to reflect the blurry traffic lights and undefined skylines, at least until a car passed by and splashed it all over the closed stores. Umbrellas piled up in front of a popular restaurant and some moved across the street, but Ziva’s vision was out of focus enough to only distinguish them as blurs of color, disappearing quickly.

It had been hours since she had passed the point of tiredness, now breathing only out of instinct. Her eyelids burned but she kept them open, watching the skies fall. 

It was rare for her to need a break like this, though it was turning even more frequent these days. She could only track Sahar down for so long - with just a name, the mysterious woman quickly vanished only to reappear again in another city a few weeks later - and after so many failed attempts of getting to her, Ziva decided to wait until they came to her instead. 

That usually didn’t take long. 

A taxi stopped just in front of her and a man rushed to open the door, motioning for a woman just behind him to enter ahead. She did so hurriedly, holding what looked like the man’s suit over her head as she disappeared into the backseat of the car. 

A second later, the man did the same, hastily running a hand through his wet hair before disappearing. Ziva thought she saw him smile to himself, but the car sped up and she lost track of them before she could confirm. 

Two strangers she would never see again, nor hear the end of their story. 

She didn’t really process how or why, but suddenly she found her reflection staring back at her, heavy bags under her eyes and hair dripping wet. Ziva blinked, realizing she had crossed the street and now stood in front of the glass door she’d been watching from the opposite side all evening.

Before she could change her mind, Ziva’s hands moved on their own accord and pulled the door open. Blaming the tiredness for her poor choices, she stepped into the movie theater, searching for the ticket booth.

The air conditioning of the room made her soaked clothes feel cold. She picked a spot near the exit, blending into the shadows. In a second she had memorized all viable routes of escape, but it had been more out of habit than from a real necessity. 

Her heart was in her throat when the main title started to play. It was this loud melody with a classic tune to it, the high notes revealing the passage of time. As the title appeared, nostalgia burned in her chest. It had been too long since she’d last seen it, way too long.

“I thought this was a colored one.”

“Do you really want me to spoil it to you, woman?”

“I’ve read the book, you know.”

“Then how come you always manage to quote it wrong?”

“How do you know they’re the right lines? Perhaps they’re different in the book.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Yes. Exactly. You would not know.”

“Don’t brag now. You’re the one who hasn't seen a movie that’s seventy years old.”

“I had other things to do.”

“That’s older than Gibbs.”

“That’s older than you.”

“Miss David. You hurt me this way.”

“Shush. It’s about to start.”

“You… Wicked Witch of the West.”

“Hm… Doesn’t she die?”

“You’ll have to watch and see.”

It knocked the breath out of her. She already knew it was coming, but the sudden change from sepia to technicolor was still a marvelous thing to see. Bright colors invited the viewer to enter this brand new world, and Ziva let herself get lost in the songs and the details. 

The room was almost empty, some people scattered across the rows ahead. She wondered if they had seen this movie before. Probably, considering how old it was. Though she knew the story by heart, it was because she’d read the book a dozen times while growing up, it being a classic in her mother’s personal library. 

He had teased her the whole day when he discovered she’d never watched it. She remembered it clearly—quoting lines and singing lyrics, he’d succeeded in driving her crazy enough for her to give in, which led to them renting a DVD copy on a free Friday night. She brought the beers and he led the place, the one between them who had a television at home. 

Tony’s selective memory always surprised her, though his insistence in getting under her skin was a force on its own. He would bug her until he got what he wanted, and she was used to it—most times great at fighting back—but some days she just wanted to give in and see that typical smile of his, the one that stretched over his face until the corners of his eyes got wrinkled. 

She could picture it so clearly, the image still imprinted under her eyelids.

It was a memory she visited often, that day. It had been one of those moments no one could know it would become a memory until it did. Their laughter, the sureness of safety and the genuine feeling of happiness were things that still warmed her heart, whenever she thought of it. They were so young and worry-free, she always felt a sting of regret for not cherishing the moment more when it was happening. 

Dorothy reached a crossroad, unsure of which path to go next. When the Scarecrow changed the arm that pointed where to go, some people chuckled, and Ziva smiled weakly. He had always been her favorite one of the group. There was something really endearing about his clumsiness and care. He was smarter than he would ever know, and it was a charming quality she rarely saw in people.

“How can you talk if you haven’t got a brain?” quizzed Dorothy, tilting her head.  

“I don’t know,” replied the Scarecrow. “But some people without brains do an awful lot of talking, don't you think?”

“Yes!”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah… Right.”

“What? It’s true. Plus, he’s cute.”

“He’s a scarecrow.”

“So…?”

“Don’t tell me you’re turned on by a scarecrow.”

“I did not say I was ‘turned on’. You are wiggling my words.”

“Twisting.”

“I thought it had been a twister.”

“Just… Watch. See? Now your scarecrow is also part of the narrative.”

“I like him.”

“Sometimes I just can’t respect you.”

“He talks a lot.”

“You say that to me all the time!”

“Well, you do talk a lot.”

“Are you admitting to like me, David?”

“I will call Ducky right away. We finally solved it - your brain is there, only it is made out of straw.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Hm.”

Ziva felt her heart clench when the thought of Tony showing it to Tali crossed her mind. Had he done the same? Was he excited over little details and quoted its famous lines just like he did with her? Or did it remind him of them? Did they ever get the chance to watch it together or he avoided it? She certainly stared at the movie theater marquise for hours before she gave in, the tiredness making her too vulnerable. 

She missed him so much her bones ached from it. 

Ziva wondered if she would ever feel the same again. That flickering in her chest whenever they spoke in riddles, both of them catching each other’s stolen glances more frequently than not. They had always been good in sharing non-verbal cues, and even if they bickered until one of them got tired, the silence was the one thing she missed the most. 

To be able to be understood like that by someone else, it was the closest she had ever been to love.

“Oh,” confided Dorothy to the Scarecrow, “I think I’ll miss you most of all.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, saying goodbye. Both of them were too emotional to say anything else, Dorothy wiping the tears with her hand and him giving her a sad smile. There was something incredibly bittersweet to have known it would have come to this all along. 

Ziva struggled to breathe. She didn’t recall when exactly she had started crying, but she couldn’t see a thing now. There were only blurs. 

She tried to remember the last time she did cry. Her chest ached from keeping it silent, the loud beating of her heart the only thing she could hear. She knew it would happen as soon as she bought that ticket, but there was something quite soothing about being in a dark room where no one else knew her. 

She could finally be free, even if for a brief moment.

Ziva stood up before the credits started rolling. Hastily wiping the tears from her face, she exited to the street, hoping for once that she was really invisible, and no one would approach her now. 

The rain had stopped. It was much darker now, though the street lights seemed brighter. The line of people outside of the restaurant had disappeared, probably already inside. Some taxis were available at the other side of the street, but she preferred walking. She couldn’t take any risks now, knowing she could quickly become the prey. 

Ziva looked up to the sky, clenching her jaw. Letting the cold air inundate her lungs, she tried to ease her breathing. Tony and Tali were somewhere safe, far away from there, but at least they were under the very same sky. She wondered if it was raining there. She wondered if they were okay. 

Closing her eyes, she pictured them again. Happy. She needed them happy, even if it meant they had found happiness without her. There was no other way to keep her going, other than to imagine them alive. Even if it looked like nothing more than a dream, she needed them there, safe, tucked away in her heart.

When Ziva opened her eyes again, the sadness had already been buried. 

With Dorothy’s words still ringing in her mind, she ducked her head, following the gray brick road into an adjacent alleyway. 

There is no place like home, she had said. 

And wishing for nothing more than a pair of ruby slippers, Ziva David disappeared into the shadows. 

[is-it-art-tho]

This is Chapter 8!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7.

Medical instruments whirred and beeped, filling the sterile air of the private hospital room with a constant hum. Thankfully, Dick had been captured as a civilian and his body was not yet the dense matrix of scar tissue and old injuries that Bruce’s was, so taking him to the hospital was not as risky as it might have otherwise been. Typically, they would have taken him back to the Cave or to Dr. Thompkins, but after watching Jason practically will Dick’s heart back into rhythm, Bruce would have taken Dick to the hospital himself if the paramedics hadn’t arrived so quickly.

That had been three days ago. Since then, Dick had laid mostly unmoving, only waking for a few minutes here and there to blearily ask questions or hold short exchanges.

Bruce looked out the window. Dusk had begun to fall over the city, and soon the batsignal would light up the sky if there was anything pressing going on.

“Are you working tonight?” Bruce asked, and though he spoke in a low murmur, his voice still felt like a jarring intrusion in the stillness.

Barbara looked up from her book and glanced out the window then at the clock. Sighing, she laid the book on her lap and rubbed her eyes.

“You don’t have to,” he continued. “You know that.”

“I know.” She sighed again, turning her gaze to Dick and pushing his hair back from his face. “I should, though. He’d want me to. It’s safer for the others when I’m there.”

Bruce made a point of looking at his phone as she leaned forward to murmur something and kiss Dick’s forehead.

She paused beside his chair on her way out to ask, “What about you?”

“I’m staying.”

“That’ll be the third night in a row.”

“Someone should be here.”

“Right. Because the two dozen nurses on rotation and extra security personnel you had stationed on this floor don’t count.” On a normal day, there would have been a bit more of a bite to her sarcasm. Not mean spirited, but sharp and witty the way she usually was. But today those edges were dulled by exhaustion and the fact that she likely knew what he was saying, even if he wouldn’t say it aloud.

I will never take my eyes off him again.

“Just make sure you at least try to get a little sleep, okay?”

“Likewise.”

“Hm. Touché.” She patted his leg and wheeled away.

And then Bruce was alone, once again watching the slow rise and fall of Dick’s chest beneath the sheets. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as his thoughts turned outward, to the streets of Gotham where the rest of the kids were out searching for those responsible for this.

Hunting.

“How is he?”

Bruce blinked, startled back to the present.

“Alive,” he answered. “Better.”

There was a deep sigh behind him followed by the sound of boots on tile as Jason entered the room, arms crossed. As far as Bruce knew, this was the first time he’d visited the hospital. In fact, this was the first Bruce had heard from him at all since it all happened.

Something occurred to him then, and he sat upright and took a breath before turning to look at Jason directly. “I owe you an explanation.”

Jason glanced at him with guarded surprise. There was so much tension in every inch of his being that he looked like he would sooner snap in a stiff breeze than bend.

“Tim spoke to me,” Bruce explained, though this was by far an understatement. Once it had become clear that Dick would be okay, Tim had cornered Bruce in the Cave and let him have it.

Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the boy so upset. He assumed that most of the outburst was likely fueled by the stress of the past few days, but he also knew that Tim had still meant every word.

Jason appeared uncertain, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Bruce continued.

“It was my idea to look into you as a person of interest.”

The younger man managed to go even more rigid. He turned his gaze to Dick. “We don’t have to talk about that.”

“I think we do. Tim told me how much it upset you–”

Jason scoffed. “‘Upset?’ I don’t give a shit what you think of me. I’m not twelve anymore, Bruce.”

Bruce could not begin to express how painfully aware of this he was. Sitting here, staring at the son who he had lost as a boy and had returned a man, Bruce felt almost as if he could count each lost year in the lines and scars on Jason’s face, like the rings in a tree.

“That’s true,” he allowed. “But even so, I want you to know that I regret it.”

“You regret it. Regret what, exactly?”

“Treating you like a suspect.”

“Why? If that’s what I was then why should you treat me any different.”

“Because you are different. You have to know that.”

Bruce could see the muscles working in Jason’s jaw. The younger man’s arms were still crossed, and his fingers were balled in the sleeve along his bicep.

“What are you trying to say.”

And again Bruce felt it, that old wound that had been with him for nearly seven years now. The wound that had opened in him the moment he had lifted Jason’s broken body in his arms and knew that he was gone. It had only grown when he’d found Jason alive again only to learn that there were certain things that even the Lazarus Pit could not resurrect.

It was an ache that reminded Bruce every day of the myriad ways he had failed Jason and continued to do so. He had failed to set him up with a better, healthier life as a child – one far away from Bruce’s own world. He had failed to keep the boy safe. Failed to give him the closure he craved. And now it seemed he had also failed to communicate even the simplest truth.

“You’re my son,” Bruce said, and it felt like an impossibly foolish thing to have to say out loud, like explaining that the sky was blue or grass was green. To think that Bruce had done something to call that into question, or that perhaps he had never made that clear to begin with, was a crushing realization.

He had let his own child down spectacularly. Nothing he could do in life would ever be a suitable restitution. Surely, Bruce would take this with him to his grave.

When Jason finally turned to him, he looked like he’d been struck by lightning. But there was something profoundly sad in his eyes.

“No,” he said after a while, “I’m not.”

“Jason–”

“Your son died, Bruce. He’s not… I’m not that person anymore.”

Bruce wanted to disagree, and he could feel that part of Jason wanted that, too. But this wasn’t entirely false. The Jason who had returned to Gotham was not the same Jason who had once fought by Bruce’s side. It had taken Bruce a while to accept that; he had been so grief-stricken and relieved to have his son back that he had been blind to the obvious fact that things had changed.

That Jason had changed.

Bruce couldn’t be sure how much of that change was due to the circumstances of his death or the passage of time and how much was a result of the Pit itself, but it didn’t matter to him. Not really.

Because when Bruce looked into those green eyes which had once been brown, when he studied the streak of white hair that dangled in the younger man’s face and noted the perpetually defensive set of his mouth and shoulders and all of the other things that had changed since his return, all Bruce saw was Jason.

His son.

And right now, his son was in pain.

“What have I told you about the time after my parents died?” Bruce asked.

“What? Not much, I guess.”

Bruce nodded, unsurprised but vaguely disappointed in himself all the same.

“I went to a dark place,” he explained. “Some kids grieve by lashing out. It’s a cry for help, obviously. They get loud, throw tantrums. I did the opposite. I collapsed in on myself. It was like there was a black hole in my chest, sucking up all of my emotions, my thoughts, my feelings. I didn’t laugh or even cry, really. I barely spoke. I don’t even remember really tasting anything during those days. I walked around for feeling like a shell. Or a ghost.”

Bruce paused. This was a period in his life that he didn’t often reflect on, and now that he was talking about it, the memories were rushing back, vivid and visceral as if he were reliving them.

“What are you–” Jason began, but he quieted when Bruce held up a patient hand.

“After a while, I started to accept that this would just have to be my new reality and I got better at masking it. I learned to smile and laugh at the right times. I talked more and did everything I thought I ought to do to be who I had been before. To be Bruce again. For one thing, I didn’t want Alfred to worry about me, but I was also scared that if I didn’t put on the act he would leave. He had agreed to care for the old Bruce, not whoever this new, damaged person was.

“Then one day – this had to be almost a year later – I was sitting in the den. Not thinking or doing anything, just sitting. I had started doing that a lot. Maintaining the facade was exhausting, so when I was alone sometimes I would just… sit. Only, this time Alfred had been watching me. I have no idea for how long, but eventually he came in and sat next to me and just put his arm around me and I knew in that moment that he knew, even though he didn’t say anything.

“And I was terrified. I expected to wake up the next the day to an empty house, but there he was in the kitchen making breakfast just like always. Still, I couldn’t even look at him and when I got up to leave he stopped me, tilted my face up so that he could look in my eyes, and all he said was ‘I see you, Master Bruce.’

“I see you,” Bruce repeated the phrase to himself, thinking of that moment, those words. How much they had meant to him back then. How much they still meant to him, even now.

“It was all he needed to say,” he continued. “And I realized then that I hadn’t fooled him for a second. He knew that things had changed, that I couldn’t be the boy I had been before. He saw all of that damage – those broken parts in me – and he stayed anyway. I didn’t have try to be something I wasn’t or worry about scaring him away. I could just be. And God, it was like I could breathe again.”

Bruce didn’t realize he’d begun to well up until he felt a tear hit his hand. He wiped his eyes, mildly surprised at himself, then looked to find Jason staring at him, wide-eyed. “What I mean is, I may not always understand you, and I know I’m not the perfect father or ally or whatever it is you see me as these days. But I see you, Jay. All of you. And I’ll never give you another reason to think otherwise.”

Jason’s face went red and he turned away, muttering, “Whatever,” before dragging a chair up near Bruce’s and dropping into it with a heavy flump. "Just stop."

Bruce risked clapping the younger man on the shoulder and giving him a quick squeeze. When Jason didn’t recoil from it, he let his hand linger there a second longer than necessary, struggling to remember the last time they had touched like this, before letting go.

[frostmarris]

Day 5: Thieves & Outlaws | Shapeshifters

Pairing: Deidara/Sakura Haruno/Hidan, Deidara/Hidan

Rating: Teen & Up

Content Warning: a couple of foul mouthed bois

Additional Tags: Modern Magic (magic is secret), Supernatural Creatures, Urban (but actually Rural) Fantasy, Bakery AU, Established Relationship, country roads take me home

Summary: Deidara returns home for the first time in nearly a decade and finds everything just as he remembers it - except for that bakery. Hidan is convinced the pink-haired owner isn't human and they're determined to find out what she's hiding.

Notes: fic #3 and my final entry for the @naruto-fantasy-week ! the thieves and outlaws part applies more to the fic as a whole than this first chapter tho

Slightly different format for this one since tumblr refuses to allow my posts to show up in tags. Links to ffnet and ao3 will be in a reblog!

Enjoy!

whitewoods - chapter one

“So, what - were you, like, a total ‘Children of the Corn’ or some shit growin’ up?”

“First of all, it’s totally the wrong climate for corn here, yeah. Secondly, it was more like tin foil hats and aliens than blood sacrifices.”

At Hidan’s dry look, Deidara laughs and leans back in the driver’s seat, one hand on the steering wheel of the old hatchback and his free arm hanging out the window.

“I’m still reelin’ from finding out that you’re a fucking country bumpkin, Dei. You told me you were from,” Hidan raises his hands, shaking them and hunching his shoulders as he shoots the blond a sarcastic look, “The big city and all that jazz.”

“I was living in a city before we met, hm,” Deidara answers, swapping hands on the wheel and reaching over to smack Hidan’s jazz-handing hands when they drift closer to his face, “I just happened to live in a small town in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere before that.”

He slows down as the winding road running along the side of the mountain - (“We’re not that high up, Hidan, you coward.”) - splits into two at a fork. There had been mountain on both sides of the road for the past hour, a nearly vertical rock wall to their left and a sloped but steep drop to their right, with a river winding through the bottom of the crevice some hundred feet below before the ground climbs back up to form another mountain ridge.

Hidan hadn’t been too excited about being on the side with the drop, but Deidara’s reassurance that at least he’d be unlikely to get crushed immediately by falling rocks had done little to comfort him.

The fork came at an plateau where the mountain seemed to finally back off and give more room for a level, forested area, with the left path heading into the woods. The right path, however, curved outwards and lead downward slightly before feeding onto an old bridge that crossed the shortest gap between the two mountain ridges, a still-considerable drop down to the river running under it. They could see the bridge below from their vantage point, even with a few trees standing in the way - just barely wide enough for two cars at a time and at least four cars long.

“You’re fucking joking ,” Hidan hisses as Deidara heads right, fully turning towards him in his seat. The blond laughs and nearly gets his hand bit when he reaches over to pat Hidan's head.

“Relax , Evel Knievel. The bridge has been around since before I was even born, yeah.” 

“That’s not fuckin’ reassuring,” He mutters in response, sitting back in his seat - spine straight, shoulders stiff, and magenta eyes on the rocky road. The path down winds only a little before it levels out and curves outward even more to approach the bridge, cliffsides and sheer drops momentarily replaced by trees and bushes.

Hidan only realizes they’re on the bridge when the sound of gravel and rocks under the hatchback’s tires gradually gives way to the softer rumble and groans of wooden planks and metal supports. They break through the trees to suddenly reveal the open air of the bridged gap between ridges and Hidan’s hand jumps up to the ceiling handle above his door, knuckles white as he grips it like it’ll save his life.

His gaze drifts to his right even as his head stays completely forward - until Deidara cackles and his glare darts to the blond, still sitting all relaxed with an arm out the window and one hand on the wheel.

“Hand off the Jesus Handle, yeah. I’m not gonna drive us off the side and hurtling down to our deaths.” Deidara grins and nods to the stretch of bridge ahead. “There’s railings and I’m barely pushing 15, hm. An eager turtle could beat us to the other side.”

“I’ll fuckin’ let go when you put both of your damn hands on the shittin’ wheel, dickhead.”

Hidan’s grumble earns him another laugh but Deidara relents and pulls his arm out of the window, both hands on the steering wheel as they cross the bridge. The relief on Hidan’s face is clear as day when they make it to the other side and he slumps back with a sigh, side-eyeing the blond when he cackles again.

“If I’d known you were afraid of heights, I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me, yeah.”

“I’m not afraid of heights,” He huffs, grabbing the pack of cigarettes in the glovebox. “I just don’t trust infrastructure built by fuckin' country bumpkins."

Deidara rolls his eyes but leans over as he offers him one, both hands still on the wheel and the cigarette between his lips as Hidan digs his lighter out of his pocket. Taking a drag once it’s lit, Deidara returns to his relaxed position again and follows the road as it winds through the woods and gradually begins to slope downwards.

The scenic peace of the mountain forest is rather ruined by the metal music blaring out the open windows of the beat-up car - which adds to the cacophony with its own grinds and grunts - and the pair make idle conversation as they travel, Hidan eventually opening up his fifth soda of the day. He unbuckles long enough to turn in his seat, get his knees under him, and dig around in the back to grab the rest stop sandwiches they’d bought before they entered truly bum-fuck nowhere that morning.

He opens the plastic wrap around Deidara’s enough for the blond to get to the bread and chicken salad before passing it over and starting on his own mini Italian sub.

"So, why do you have to be the one to get your old man's shit in order?" Hidan asks around ciabatta and salami, flicking a crumb out his window. "Aren't there fuckin' people for that?"

Deidara grimaces and takes a long sip from his energy drink before he answers. "Apparently he left everything to me in his will, hm."

Eyebrows raised, Hidan turns and gestures at him with his sandwich. 

"Wasn't it, like, a decade since you had last spoken to the old fuck?"

A shrug and a nod and the car takes a left turn onto a road that Hidan hadn't even spotted through the brush. The trees thin out and the road curves and the ground starts to gradually disappear to their left side and rise on their right until they're traveling along a cliffside again, but mirrored to earlier. This road seems even more rocky and rough than the other but, fortunately, it doesn't last long until Hidan can see the opening to a tunnel ahead.

He sends Deidara one last skeptical look, inwardly hoping they weren't lost, before they enter the tunnel and begin to cut through part of the mountain rather than travel along it. Deidara turns down the music a bit as it echoes almost jarringly through the passage, soon flicking on the high-beams and taking another bite of his sandwich. The road isn't perfectly straight so it's a while before they can see the light at the other end. While Hidan isn't sure exactly how much ground they'd covered through the tunnel, since the road seemed to serpentine a lot, he's still surprised when they break out into the open air again and, once again, there's a rock wall on Deidara’s side and a drop on his own.

He feels like they're right back where they'd started before the bridge, but his snarky comment is cut short when he looks out his window and sees the valley below.

Some of the trees are still bare from the winter - it's not quite spring yet, so cold but not cold cold - and most of the ones that have leaves make canopies that are mostly yellow, dappled here and there with bright green and light brown. White peeks out from under the treetops  in spots and Hidan would have thought it was snow if he hadn't known any better. The valley stretches out into the distance before the edges of the mountain ranges begin to creep upwards once more around it, a few gently sloping hills transforming into steeper inclines but backing off before the mountain can fully enclose the forest. There's an odd 'bald spot' on the other side - not the exact opposite point from the tunnel's exit, but a fairly long stretch of forest between the spot and their current position - where the trees thin slightly before disappearing entirely. 

It climbs up the hills a ways, carving out a noticeable patch, and, if Hidan looks really hard, he's pretty sure he can see tiny buildings in the far far distance.

The road leading out of the tunnel begins to almost immediately slope downwards. Not too steeply, but definitely noticeable. It runs along the mountainside in a long, winding serpentine, doubling back on itself several times to make the climb from the tunnel to the valley less of a sheer drop.

Hidan doesn't realize he'd been practically hanging out the window to get a look at the valley until the hatchback takes one of the turns and he finds himself facing the other way. He nearly climbs across Deidara to look out his side and the blond laughs, shoving him back into his seat.

"I thought you didn't want the drop on your side, yeah?"

Snorting, Hidan sits back and takes a large bite out of his sub. "Shut that damn smug mouth of yours and drive."

Deidara’s amusement drifts out the open windows of the car until he returns his attention to his sandwich and turns the music back up, sending a few startled birds into the air.

: :

They finally make it down into the valley proper and Hidan nearly shoves his face against the windshield as the view of an ocean of yellow leaves dotted with green, brown, and the occasional white suddenly changes to pillars of bright white and black spots. The white extends deep, deep into the forest, with a sea of green from the grass and underbrush below, a canopy of yellow above, and splotches of leaves from lower branches appearing here and there in the middle.

A dirt and gravel road cuts through the forest, managing a straight path for a while before it eventually begins to wind like all the other roads. The trees are thin and gangly but tall and sturdy and Hidan eventually sends Deidara an admittedly curious look, ignoring the blond's amused grin.

"What kinda trees are these anyways?" He asks before quickly adding a overly-disinterested, "They look fucking weird."

"Birch, hm."

"What is that? The new betch ? I was just asking a fucking question, you asshat-"

"No!" Deidara laughs, cutting him off. "Birch ! They're birch trees!"

Hidan's eyes narrow at him before he looks out his window again, regarding the white trees skeptically. The further into the forest they drove, the more densely packed the trees grew, making it hard to see anything other than the white and black of their trunks and the green of the forest floor - the scene only broken by the brown of the road ahead.

"They're one of the only good things about my hometown, yeah," Deidara says after a stretch of silence, downing the last of his energy drink. "Not the best for climbing, but they look cool as shit."

"They look like they're covered in eyes," Hidan says watching the trees as they pass by. The knots and bumps along the trunks are accented by the black markings, some curved and spotted just right that they look like eyes, gazing at them as they travel through the woods.

"Fuckin' creepy," Hidan adds, despite the amused smile on his face.

Deidara nods in agreement and they drive in silence for a while, the road taking them over a few hills and back down before, eventually, taller and hardier trees begin to intermingle in the sea of birch. The trees are still densely packed and make it difficult to see what lays ahead but, finally, they open up to reveal the town.

The treeline circles around the town, following the dips and curves of its edges, and climbing up the start of the mountain a ways before the birch trees are fully replaced with more stereotypical woods - spruce, oak, balsam, pine. There's several levels to the town as it rises and falls with the hills and Hidan wouldn't be surprised if there were houses higher on the mountainside, looking out over the valley. While there only seems to be one main road - which has finally become paved and easier riding - leading into the town, it soon begins branching off to spiderweb out, winding out of sight as buildings block the view.

Deidara stays on the main road for a while before he finally turns onto one of the side paths, back onto a gravel road that leads into a residential area. Each time Hidan thinks they're about to arrive at his childhood home, Deidara keeps on driving, passing homes and trees until there's more of the latter than the former.

The road heads upwards and Hidan sends the blond a raised eyebrow as they rise into the hills around the valley, green and brown trees cutting off their view again. There's a few dirt roads that branch off from their current one, heading deeper into mountainside woods, and most of which are barred by gates connected to rustic fences, overgrown by brush.

Finally, Deidara turns onto one of the dirt paths and they climb a little higher still before the ground levels out, the trees still dense until it finally opens up again after an almost ten minute drive. There's a rather rundown fence running the perimeter of the main yard and the house looks like a cross between a cabin from a slasher movie about a summer camp in the mountains and something out of a '50s show about moonshiners.

There's other, more in-shape fencing stemming from the yard making enclosures for a few various farm animals with smaller sheds of their own and what looks like a path leading behind the house to a more open area, likely with a garden and crops. The gate to the front yard is open and Deidara drives right through, parking the hatchback in a spot to the left where the grass is worn down and bare from constant use.

The pair exit the car and Deidara stretches while Hidan turns to stare out over the property, eventually turning to look at his companion.

"Holy shit," He says, earning him a raised eyebrow from Deidara. "You are a damned country bumpkin!"

Deidara shoots him a glare and moves to open the back of the car. 

"Bullshit, yeah. Like hell I am."

Hidan points an accusatory finger at him, shouting loud enough to startle some chickens in a nearby coop.

"Fucking mountain hick farm boy! "

"You shut your damn mouth, hm. "

He gestures to the damning evidence behind them, arms spread out wide while Deidara grabs their bags from the trunk.

"Look at all these animals! This is a fuckin' farm !"

The blond throws a duffel bag at Hidan's face and crosses his arms, looking unamused.

"Like hell it is, yeah. There's just some goats and chickens and a couple sheep and... some pigs out back... and a few ducks…" Deidara’s assured tone starts to waver as he looks away, expression growing slightly strained and concerned. "And I did have a pair of rabbits when I was ten, and the cow…" 

Hidan makes a slightly strangled, horrified sound and Deidara quickly tries to recover. 

"But the old man sold it years ago, yeah! That's it! Mostly just goats and chickens, hm! Not a farm."

As if on cue, there's a honk from the right side of the yard and the two look to see a large white bird in the chicken corral, walking the edge of the fence.

"Is that a fucking goose. "

"L-listen, hm-"

"Only ponds in shitty public parks and farms have gooses!"

"Geese."

"Farm boy! " Hidan shouts, hurling the duffel bag back at him and throwing his arms into the air as he turns away.

"I've been living with a total Ma and Pa , overalls and fuckin' straw hat, "Princess Bride" bullshit farm boy !" He laments, slapping a hand on the roof of the car and sending the blond a betrayed look. "I thought you were cool. "

Deidara rolls his eyes and hefts the second bag onto his shoulder before closing the hatchback.

"Hey, the "Princess Bride" dude ends up becoming a pirate, yeah."

"His name is Westley, you uncultured swine."

Hidan gets a duffel bag to the face again and then the second bag shoved into his arms while Deidara heads towards the front porch.

"Just quit your whining and help me take the shit inside, hm!"

Hidan snickers under his breath but follows after him, both bags resting on his shoulder as he watches Deidara lift pots of mostly dead and dying plants distributed here and there on the porch.

"Which one was it..?" He mutters to himself before finally letting out a victorious shout as he finds the spare key under the barely-surviving coleus. The squeak and groan of the door is grating as it swings open and the pair enter rather cautiously, expecting to be met with cobwebs and inches of dust.

But the interior of the house is fairly clean and Hidan flicks the lights on - surprised they actually work - before moving to drop the bags on an old-looking couch while Deidara heads left into the kitchen, checking to see if the water was still running.

"Right, yeah," Deidara mutters again after he turns the faucet off and opens the window behind the sink. "It's only been a couple weeks."

"Not much in the fridge," Hidan calls behind him, not even daring to sniff the carton of milk. "How long do you plan on staying again?"

"Just long enough to go through shit, figure out what to keep and what to toss, cancel the utilities, and find a buyer for the animals, hm." He answers, checking the cabinets with a frown. "I'll deal with getting into selling the property some other time."

Hidan leans against the doorframe to the kitchen, arms crossed and eyebrow quirked. "Sounds like at least a week."

Deidara groans and nods, moving past him to plop down on the couch. Hidan soon joins him, making a face at how the couch springs give a high squeak but leaning back as he stretches.

"Couch is only gonna fit one of us," He says with a grunt, laying his arms along the back before craning his neck to look deeper into the house. "I'm sure as fuck not sleepin' on your old man's bed. Where's your room?"

Deidara leans back as well with a sigh and rests his head on Hidan's forearm. "Down the hall, last door on the right. Doubt he kept all my stuff though, yeah. My old mattress is only a twin if it's still around."

They sit there for a little while longer, the door to the quiet house still open to let the fresh air in and the distant sound of the animals outside making a strange but peaceful white noise. The pair eventually get up and search the house, finding that Deidara’s old room had been converted into an office plus home gym of sorts - a desk and chair with an old as balls computer, a few bookshelves, and a stationary bike facing the singular window. 

"There's a camping and hiking store in town, hm," Deidara suggests, thumbing through a few of the books on the shelves. "They should have sleeping bags or somethin'."

Hidan nods and hops onto the exercise bike, testing it out before he glances back. "Gonna need food and a fuckton of trash bags too."

They meander around the house for another ten minutes, checking rooms and struggling to get the door to the attic open before deciding they'll have to wedge it open later with something. Eventually, the pair head back out to the car, Deidara locking the house up and pocketing the spare key before they journey back down into the town. Windows up and their music a little quieter now - it's just past 3 PM and they don't want to piss off the locals just yet - they drive around the town until Deidara remembers where the camping store (and Main Street as a whole) is.

The two of them look entirely out of place in their ripped and worn jeans, leather and bomber jackets, and old band shirts and they earn themselves a few odd looks. But they don't seem too bothered and head into the rustic store, Hidan beelining for the taxidermy bear rising above the racks of insulated clothing.

The other shop patrons send the young men curious stares before the shopkeep, and older, burly man behind the counter, greets them.

"Afternoon, boys. Here to do some, ah... hiking?" He watches Hidan poke and prod the stuffed bear's nose before turning his attention to Deidara as the blond heads towards the counter.

"Nah," Blue eyes scan the walls, looking for a sign for bedding. "Just need to grab a couple sleeping bags, hm."

The shopkeep directs him to the back right corner of the store and Deidara searches through the small selection of sleeping bags while Hidan drifts over to the display of fishing poles. 

Deidara’s weighing his options between two of the most comfortable looking styles before his gaze moves to the nearby shelves and his face lights up in a grin. He quickly returns the sleeping bags to the racks and snatches a fairly large box off the shelf, rushing off to grab Hidan, who quickly nods his exuberant approval at Deidara’s find.

They leave the shop with a couple clean blankets and the air mattress tucked under Hidan's arm, depositing everything in the car before heading down the street to the grocery store. They get mostly essentials but end up messing around in the snack aisle long enough to get more chips than they certainly need before finally heading back, one of the bags of trail mix open and in Hidan’s hands before Deidara can even start the car.

He gets a pretzel thrown into his mouth with frightening precision when he starts to complain and Hidan laughs, offering a rye chip in apology some moments later.

They make it most of the way down Main Street before Deidara is suddenly slamming on the breaks and sending the bag of trail mix flying out of Hidan’s hand and spilling onto the dash.

"What the hell, man! " Hidan shouts, brushing mini breadsticks off his lap while Deidara stares out the windshield. "What was that fo-?!"

"What the fuck, " The blond interrupts, pointing an accusatory finger at the building sat on the corner of the block, right next to the post office, "Is that?! "

Hidan sends him a bewildered look and follows his point to squint quizzically at the small building.

"It... looks like a bakery or some shit?" He looks to Deidara again, incredibly confused. "What the fuck, Dei. You okay?"

Indeed, the building on the corner looked to be a bakery. Clean glass windows out front showcase an array of sweets and breads, mostly whole loaves and a few jarred goods. Outside on the sidewalk are a few bistro tables and chairs, most occupied by townsfolk enjoying sweet treats and steaming cups of what was either coffee or tea. The building stood out from the rest of the rustic Main Street, painted in mismatched colors with shrubs just under the windows blooming with early, pale purple flowers. A white wooden sign hangs out over the street, connected by chains to the awning over the shop's front and swinging slightly in the breeze.

Hidan has to squint, but he's pretty sure it says Flour Hour.

"That used to be the arcade..." Deidara says quietly, making Hidan glance over in surprise. He looks devastated but also vaguely pissed, but he's pulled from his thoughts when a car behind them honks and the pair jump in surprise, quickly moving forward.

"It was, like, the only fun thing to do in town, hm!" He laments, eyes flickering over to the colorful building. "I can't believe some jackass went and turned it into a bakery! "

"Let's pull in and check it out," Hidan suggests as they start to pass the parking spots in front of the bakery, reaching over to nudge Deidara’s shoulder. "Maybe it's a weird combo bakery and arcade. Like those fuckin' KFC-Taco Bell-gas stations."

Lips pursed, Deidara seems to think it over for a few moments before nodding and quickly pulling into one of the open spaces, glaring through the windshield. "Muffins and Mortal Kombat. Right, yeah. I could deal with that."

Hidan grins and the pair hop out. The sweet scent of the flowers out front punches them in the face moments before the smell of coffee and various baked goods greets them, nearly making them reel back in surprise. It's an overwhelming but wonderful smell and they exchange glances before heading inside.

A bell rings over the door as it opens and it's quickly apparent that the Flour Hour isn't a combination bakery-and-arcade. 

There's several more tables and chairs set up inside and along the right side of the shop is a long L-shaped display case, heading into the back corner before turning to connect to the marble counter at the rear of the bakery. It's filled with cakes and bread and sweets and numerous delicious-looking goods - some rustic, some delicate, and some intricate enough to belong in a more upscale patisserie. Behind the back counter is a rather vintage looking coffee maker and a more modern espresso machine, as well as shelves of bags of beans, various tins of tea, a few random mugs, and all the makings of a decent batista setup. Along the right wall are two tall bookshelves filled with rows of jarred jams and honey and tins of spices and herbs, standing on either side of a bay window nook that looks out at the small park at the end of Main Street.

The front end of the shop is rather small, only a little under half of the building’s total as surely the rest is reserved for the bakery itself in the back. It's busy and bustling despite the time of day and all of the small tables are filled with people enjoying their goodies and beverages. A pair of young women are behind the counter, one grabbing muffins from a display case and the other making a cappuccino.

"Oh! Welcome in!" Says a voice suddenly to their right. Hidan and Deidara simultaneously look over to see a woman they hadn't noticed through the window outside, a long paper bag in hand as she grabs one of the loaves of bread in the window.

"Never seen you two before - passing through?" She asks, straightening up and offering them both a smile. "Well, we'll still be open for a bit longer so feel free to have a look at what we have left - the girls behind the counter will help you when you're ready!"

She turns to head towards the back of the shop, offering the bread loaf to a woman at the checkout counter, and Deidara and Hidan stare.

She's beautiful, they both happen to be thinking - bright green eyes, freckles dusted across her soft face, a little shorter than Deidara but a build that suggests she could probably suplex either of them, and long, long soft pink hair pulled back in a braid that swings behind her as she walks. The lovely young woman is dressed in overalls that are splattered in paint at the knees and a long-sleeved striped shirt, green and white. Her apron is dusted with either flour or powdered sugar in the front and they can see colorful socks peeking under the rolled cuffs of her overalls, her shoes also covered in flour.

Deidara blinks, tilts his head slightly, then smiles, nudging Hidan’s arm with his elbow.

"No Pac Man, but I can't bring myself to complain. This place is much better than an arcade, yeah?" He looks up at Hidan when he doesn't reply, an eyebrow raised before his expression turns confused at the intensity behind Hidan’s stare.

Magenta eyes pinned to the pink-haired woman, Hidan's own silver brows are furrowed, a small frown on his face as he seems to be trying to decipher something, never pulling his gaze away even as Deidara prods his cheek with a finger. The blond watches him for a moment before eventually shrugging and moving to head to the cases.

"Well, I'm gonna see what kind of cupcakes they've got, hm."

Hidan’s eyebrows furrow even more before his eyes go wide and bewildered and then alarmed and his hand shoots out to snatch the back collar of Deidara’s jacket, yanking him backwards and quickly dragging him out of the bakery.

His startled, choked shout earns the pair a few curious looks but Deidara soon finds himself being shoved into the passenger seat of the car after Hidan grabs the key out of his pocket, slamming the door and sliding over the hood to quickly hop behind the wheel. Ignoring Deidara’s confused sputters, Hidan quickly backs out of the parking space and heads back to the main road, recalling the way back to the house and driving a little faster than he probably should be. 

"What the fuck was that, man?!" Deidara shouts, managing to right himself in his seat.

"That chick," Hidan starts, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he stares ahead with a hard look. "She-"

"She was gorgeous, yeah, but just cause you got cold feet doesn't mean you can just drag me out by the scruff and choke the shit outta me!" Grumbling, he reaches up to straighten his collar, shooting the other man a glare. "Dibs by the way. And I really did want one of those cupcakes, hm."

"You don't fuckin' get it ," Hidan hisses under his breath, finally tearing his gaze away from the road to look at Deidara, his expression rather frazzled. 

His own expression turning confused and slightly concerned, Deidara sits back and lets him continue.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on in this Mountain Man bullshit town of yours," He says, reaching up to run a hand through his silver hair. "But that chick back there.."

Hidan turns to look at him again, his gaze hard and his expression dead serious.

"She was not human."

[moth-and-raven]

CHAPTER TWELVE

I can’t sleep. And from my window, I see that Julian and Portia can’t either; the lights in the little cottage stay on long into the night. I hope they’re catching up, after a decade apart.

A piece of me wants to rejoin them. I felt so safe cocooned in the smells of Portia’s cooking and the laughter we shared. It drained away step by step as I returned to the palace. I trust both of them, but I miss them, too, even though they’re so close. It’s weird to be able to put faces to the holes in my heart.

I must’ve fallen asleep eventually, though, because I startle at the sound of a songbird greeting the dawn. We didn’t agree on an exact time to meet up again, but the earlier the better. With any luck, no one will be wasting the few days left before the Masquerade hanging around Lucio’s old rooms.

At least, no one but us.

The summer morning is cool and clear, buoying me down the garden path to the cottage. Julian emerges as soon as he sees me; Portia has to physically hold him back from running out to meet me. I laugh, seeing her strong, freckled arms wrapped around him from behind. She grimaces and releases him as I shut the door.

“Finally,” she grunts, though it can’t be later than six-thirty. “Nothing personal, but I’m already tired of hearing your name today.”

Julian pulls me into an embrace and spins around the small room, kissing my cheeks and forehead. “Good morning, my darling,” he murmurs. “What a sight you are.”

“Will you calm down, lover boy?” Portia rolls her eyes and swats at him, but I hear the smile in her voice.

He stops, raking his gaze over my face. “No,” he says softly. “I can't.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to.” She shakes her head and pulls a bundle of clothing from behind a chair. “‘Ian’ isn’t very excitable.”

“Ian?”

“Would you rather be Jules again?”

Julian looks closely at the clothes in Portia’s arms: a palace servant’s uniform, similar to her own, all cream and gold. “I need a different name?”

“Look, would you just let me have my fun?” she pouts, quickly turning it into a grin. “You’re Ian, my humble assistant for the day. That means you have to listen to me or I’ll fire you.”

“You wouldn’t fire me, would you?”

Portia eyes him up and down, as if thinking hard. “Yes I would,” she says. “You’re very fire-able.”

All three of us laugh. I can’t help but snuggle into Julian’s chest to feel the rumble of it. He nuzzles my hair, sighing contentedly as the moment passes. “I suppose I can let ‘Ian’ have the spotlight,” he tells Portia, taking the clothes from her. "At least for today."

“Good. I want to get up there soon. Did you have breakfast, Reyja?”

I don’t want to take her food, but I shake my head as she glances out the window at the sun.

“There’re some eggs on the counter, and an orange too, I think. I have some chores to do before we go, but they shouldn’t take long,” she says, moving to the door. “Ten minutes tops. Be ready by then?”

Julian nods.

Portia narrows her eyes at him, then at me. “Wait for me if you guys get done first, okay? You’ll be the least conspicuous if I’m around.”

Silence settles in the room after she leaves. I sit down on Portia’s perfumed couch; Julian starts to join me, then thinks better of it and ducks into the bathroom to change instead.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks. I can still hear him clearly.

“Not really. Too excited.”

“Nor did I."

I frown. "That's two nights in a row, isn't it? That you haven't slept?"

"Ahm… yes."

"Will you be alright?"

"This is nothing, truly. And I did sleep a bit. It'll tide me over, I promise."

I'm surprised by how fiercely I want to take care of him. I've never felt like that before. "If we get a minute, we should take a nap."

"Oh, darling, that sounds absolutely divine."

I lean on the back of the couch, resting my chin on my crossed wrists, watching the shadows he casts on the wall as he changes into his new outfit. Portia did the best she could finding clothes that would fit, but it looks like both shirt and trousers will hang loosely on him.

When he’s dressed, he reappears at the open door, doing up the last of his gilded buttons. “I was thinking about us.” He pauses, looking at me tenderly. “And I’m curious: would you have accepted my, erm, advances, from the beginning?”

“Like breaking-into-the-shop beginning?”

“Ha, had I not been so focused on tracking Asra down, I might’ve asked to stay.”

“Really?”

“I considered it.” He laughs. “You were in your element, my dear, with your spells and your blade. And in that robe too… I kept trying to think of reasons to come back, all the next day. If you hadn’t shown up at the Raven, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Is that why you were so eager to talk that night?”

“What, when I asked you to dinner?”

That is what he did, isn’t it? A date I didn’t even realize we were on. “Yeah.”

“Circumstances being as they were, I did find myself wondering about that pendant. That you were carrying it only made me more interested.”

I touch the smooth silver moon hanging around my neck. “You still can't remember what it means?”

“No. I don’t mind, though. If all it did was bring us together, it means the world to me.”

My heart surges, swelling with affection. He grins and crosses the room, cupping my cheek as he kneels to press his lips to mine.

“I never did get to say what I pictured doing with you, did I?” he asks, more breath than sound.

He didn’t, though I can hardly regret what happened instead. I don’t have to encourage him to go on.

“Hm.” He sits down beside me. “Aside from the obvious, as I so vividly demonstrated, they're the most mundane things. Like— like taking you shopping, or doing laundry together. Is that… do you find that odd?”

I shake my head and nestle against him. It isn’t odd; it’s one of the most soothing scenes I’ve ever imagined.

“And, and settling down with you at the end of a long day,” he murmurs. “Just like this, or maybe in front of a fireplace. Anywhere, really, so long as you’re in my arms.”

I let my eyes flutter shut as I inhale the scent of his skin, his hair. “We could read together,” I suggest. “Or play cards.”

“We could, we could. Would you let me take you out to dinner again, too? Show you off?”

“If you wanted.”

“Oh, I want the whole city, the whole world, to see us and know we’re together. And we could even take Nurlan up on her offer of seeing a show, couldn’t we? I’m no stranger to the stage, you know. I used to be quite the actor. That’s where I met her, in fact.”

A slightly less peaceful thought burrows between his words, grinning slyly at me. “That could be fun,” I say. “Did you have your own dressing room and everything?”

His heavy-lidded gaze turns sultry as he follows where I lead. “All to myself.”

“Do they let audience members backstage if they really, really want to visit?”

“My darling, I wouldn’t let them keep you from me for all the gold in the Palace’s coffers.”

I hum contentedly, admiring the image in my head: I’m already in his dressing room when he comes through the door, flushed and exhilarated from a successful opening night. I stand up to greet him and draw him in for a kiss that turns rapidly from celebratory to sensual. I’m sure he can taste my intentions.

His chest moves with the sigh he heaves. “So much I want to experience with you,” he says wistfully.

“We can.”

“Do you think so?”

I peer up at him, throwing one leg over his thighs as I tuck myself into his side. “Yes.”

“Well, who am I to nay-say such confidence, hm?”

I don’t think anyone has ever described me as confident, but he’s right. I feel it. I’m tired, but excited, and hopeful, and determined to see what happens next. Maybe this will be beyond my capabilities, but I won’t face it alone.

“Oh, I could spend a lifetime kissing you,” Julian murmurs. “I want to spend a lifetime kissing you.”

“It takes two, doesn’t it? We’d be kissing each other.”

“So we would.” He grins. “Shall we start right away?”

He’s dressed and ready to go. Portia will still be a few minutes. We have time, but I won’t waste any of it by saying so.

We’re in a somewhat compromising position when she returns: sprawled along the couch, Julian laying against me with my legs wrapped around his hips, so involved in each other that I don’t even hear the door. I should’ve known better — it’s already apparent that his touch, his very presence, blurs my caution into action every time. Even the looming threats of the Plague and the Masquerade pale in the warmth he spreads.

Both of us scramble to sit up in response to Portia’s beleaguered sigh, but she just shakes her head. “Come on,” she says. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner the two of you can have some privacy. Wait, where’s your wig?”

“Oh, erm.” Julian gestures towards the bathroom.

Portia rolls her eyes. “Put it on. Everyone knows to look out for a redhead. They won’t be expecting dark hair instead.”

Julian offers his hand to help me up, dropping a final kiss to my knuckles before breaking away to collect the wig Portia found. It washes him out a little, but he doesn’t look half-bad with straight black hair falling to his chin, covering his right eye. He smiles bashfully and does his best to tuck his new bangs behind his ear, but they won’t stay. It’s for the best: he’d be even more conspicuous wearing his patch, and this way no one can see, and be tipped off by, his plagued eye.

We follow Portia through the sunlit gardens to the palace, swinging our linked arms. “We’re probably gonna have to go the back way,” she explains, tossing the words over her shoulder as she fishes for her ring of keys to unlock the same greenhouse we left through last night. “Carmeline was telling me that they’re blocking off the whole suite for the party, so no one wanders up there accidentally.”

“What’s the back way?” I ask.

“This, the servants’ passages. They run all over the building. Sorry about your neck, Ian,” she says to Julian, smiling cheekily. “You’ll have to crouch down.”

He sighs, resigned to his fate.

“Reyja can give you a massage later, right?”

I certainly could, and squeeze his hand to tell him so.

“What a reward,” he says dreamily. He’s about to lean in to kiss me again when Portia smacks his arm.

“No more of that. Not while we’re here.”

“Ah, of course.”

“And stay close. It’s easy to get lost, the way we’re going.”

I lose my bearings after the first three turns. How anyone can navigate these twisting halls with no indication of where they are in the broader scheme of the palace is beyond me, but every servant we pass seems to know exactly where they’re going. It’s for the best that they’re so focused, and so busy: no one gives Julian a second glance. Maybe his disguise was unnecessary, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

We follow Portia single-file, past living quarters and storage rooms and kitchens and closets. At one point we pass an armory, full to the brim with weapons long neglected to rust. A tiny staircase gives us pause; it’s barely wide enough for my hips, and poor Julian is nearly doubled over to avoid the low ceiling. But we manage to squeeze up the tight spiral and crowd together on the landing crowning it while Portia feels for the door handle in the dark. I call a small light to my palm to help her, but our bodies cast shadows too dark to see through.

She finds it eventually, and we stagger out of the wall into ash piled high like snowdrifts. We’re on the other side of the suite now, opposite where Portia and I explored before. My heart catches in my throat when I realize that we’ve emerged in Lucio’s bedroom itself, untouched for the last three years, stirring cinders into the air with our breath and footsteps.

It’s so quiet. Eerily quiet, like sound is being eaten before it can escape. I close my eyes against the force of the silence.

And Lucio’s spark flares into view, white-silver and red, the vaguest shape of a man, blurred at the edges. His form disappears when I open my eyes again, but his presence remains, angrier than he was a few days ago. I wonder if he knows what time of year it is. The Masquerade was held in celebration of his birthday, after all, and from what I know of him, he’s probably pretty upset that people are ignoring its origins and partying without him.

At least that gives me an emotion to latch onto.

I rest one hand on Portia’s soft shoulder, holding her back before she can venture further in.

“What?” she asks. I can hear the excitement and concern mingled in her voice.

“He’s here,” I say simply.

Julian’s pressed so close to me I feel him tremble when I close my eyes again. I do my best to ignore him, weaving Asra’s old spells into careful nets to keep Lucio from vanishing when we call to him properly. He knows we’re here too, I think, but he can’t see us. I enclose the space around us, sealing up the room. Win or lose, here we go.

“Ready?” I ask quietly.

“We don’t have much of a choice, do we?” Julian whispers back, barely keeping his nerves at bay. Despite his eagerness last night, I can tell that this isn’t his favorite thing.

“Nope,” Portia says. “So let’s do it.”

“Okay.”

I call magical bindings to my fingertips, to hold him here when he manifests. I’d rather not use them if I can help it, because I know how much it will drain me, but needs must. Air mixed with fine particles of soot fills my lungs and I hold back a cough to call out to him: “Count Lucio?”

His aura flares red, searching through his former suite for the intrusion. But when he finds us, he recoils. Waves of fear and confusion replace his hostility even as he tries to stand his ground.

“Who’s there?” he hisses, but only I can hear him. His voice is reedy, a faint echo of what a living throat can make.

I ignore the question. He’ll find out soon enough. “We’ve come to visit you.”

“Uh-huh, sure. A palace full of toadies and not a single person comes up here until now.”

Not a single—? He’s been alone all this time? Three years, a floating consciousness with nothing else to do? How desperately lonely he must be.

“What do you want?” he adds peevishly. “I’m not really entertaining right now, y’get me?”

His presence is getting stronger, the more he funnels into communicating with us. He’s still unfocused, but I can almost see him when he moves. Behind me, Julian and Portia are frozen, holding each other’s hands, letting me work.

“That’s okay,” I tell him. “We won’t take long.”

“Hmph. Where else am I gonna go?” he pouts. “They’re shutting me up in here, away from the party.”

I wonder if he’ll manifest more quickly with flattery… “Locking you out of your own party?”

“Thank you! Finally, someone who recognizes how fucking stupid that is!” His shape roils like a thundercloud, smoke filling a glass vase until he almost looks solid. “The Masquerade is my baby! I may be dead, but I’m not gone!”

“That’s right,” I say, taking a hesitant step closer. “Um, speaking of… we had some questions for you.”

“Why d’you keep saying ‘we?’ There’s only one of you.”

Oh. “I… brought some friends. One of them might look familiar. He’s the one who wants to ask you about, uh…”

Lucio cuts me off. “Lemme see! Anyone who remembers me has shit to answer for, like—”

He stops dead the moment I take Julian’s hand. Both of them gasp, seeing each other for the first time. Julian’s skin is ice-cold, colder than usual, and his palm is damp with sweat, but he swallows bravely and raises his voice.

“Hello, Lucio.”

“Jules? ” Lucio says, the word dripping with incredulity.

“Now, you know I never liked that nickname—”

“Fuck my ass, it is you!”

“Erm.”

Lucio flows like quicksilver over the ash-stained carpet to shove his ghostly face into Julian’s. His eyes are the same piercing, plagued red, but his pupils are so pale as to be invisible.

“How fucking dare you?” Lucio shrieks. He tries to push Julian’s shoulder, but passes right through him. It only makes him angrier. “You fucking hack! I dug you outta the fucking trash to bring you here and wha’d’it get me, huh?! I trusted you, I gave you everything you fucking asked for! Why couldn’t you do what you said you would, asshole? This is all your fault! ”

I pull Julian back; he stumbles against me, flinching away from Lucio’s wrath. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“No! You fucking didn’t! You didn’t do shit and now fucking look at me!”

“Lucio, I—”

“Never should've trusted you. I thought we had somethin’, y’know? Since you were there for the arm thing and all. I should've called Naz-whatever instead.”

Julian swallows hard. “Nazali — erm, Doctor Satrinava — couldn’t have risked—”

“Don’t you dare fucking lecture me, Jules!”

Julian winces as Lucio launches into another tirade. I squeeze his hand; I could let go of him and he wouldn’t have to hear any of it, since it’s only through me they can communicate. But he squeezes back and draws a steadying breath.

“Look, Lucio, as nice as it is to hear your voice again—”

“And now you’re fucking mocking me? How dare—”

“— I really only have the one question. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Lucio crosses his arms, looking for all the world a petulant child just told he had five minutes until bedtime. “I’m gonna make the same promise you made me,” he says. “I’ll do ‘whatever I can.’ And apparently, that means I don’t have to do jack shit.”

Julian sighs. “Did I kill you?”

“You sure as fuck didn’t fucking cure me, did’ya?”

“No, I mean… at the end?”

“Pfft. You might as well have.”

The crunch of ash fills the silence.

“... But I didn't?”

Lucio shrugs.

“I didn’t kill you?!”

“I don’t know, okay?” Lucio turns his back on us and floats across the room to the soot-stained curtains, pawing uselessly at them as he tries to open the window. He grunts in annoyance and stares at the wall instead.

Julian presses his point. “You don’t know who killed you?”

“Look, I was kinda busy at the time. Dying and shit.”

“Do you remember anything?”

He scowls. “I remember someone coming in… someone tall, and thin. And pale. But… but I don’t think it was you. They weren’t… they weren’t human …”

I could shout for joy. I won’t, but I could. Julian is innocent! I knew he had to be! If there was someone else in the room before him, Lucio might have been dead before he even got there. That’s a mystery of its own, but I can’t help the relief flooding through my veins. Whoever it was, it wasn’t him. And right now, that’s as much of a victory as I need.

But Julian’s still worried, and still deadly focused on Lucio’s nebulous form.

“Hey, uh. I got a question for you, too,” Lucio says, shaking himself out of his patchy memories. “You owe me one, anyway.”

Julian nods for him to continue.

“You still in contact with that Skylar guy?”

Julian startles. “Skylar? I haven’t seen him in years. How do you know him?”

“Duh, he was here. Cared about me more than you ever did, too.”

“I… don’t remember that.”

Lucio smirks. “I sure as fuck do. Damn, if I hadn’t been, like, dying… he could rearrange my guts any day.”

I hadn’t realized Portia could hear him too, but she stifles a snicker behind her hand. The other, I see, is still holding Julian’s. Julian himself blushes, and clears his throat.

“Erm, I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“ASAP. He’s here, y’know.”

“What? How do you know that, if you can’t—?”

Lucio preens. “My good doggies were playing with Salsa a few days ago. I heard them.”

“You heard…” Julian trails off, then turns to Portia. I can almost hear his mind racing. “Pasha, is a tall man with dark skin and green eyes staying in the palace?”

Lucio interrupts before she can answer. “Do you think I’d be asking if he was actually here here? I just know he’s somewhere in the city.”

And Julian laughs, his shoulders loosening. Whoever this Skylar is, his presence must mean a lot to him. “I bet I know exactly where.”

—————

Skylar belongs to @ollifree.

prev || next

[barcaavengers]

Letting Go || John Ambrose McClaren Imagine|| Part 1

Note: Guess who is back by unpopular demaaaaand!? Me! Here is a little John Ambrose imagine because I find none ?? Changed a couple of things for everything to make sense. Part 2 is on the works already since I had to split the original because I found it too long. As always, opinions and ideas are always welcomed! Hope I did our ray of sunshine some justice. 💗

"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to join the recycling club? I mean, it won't be as good as Belleview but it would do" you shrug as you ask your best friend. Well...your crush at the moment.

"I would love to, but I do need a good reference" John Ambrose said as he walked beside you.

Back story, you were the person to show John Ambrose the school grounds when he moved to the city. Ever since then, you two hang out all the time and the last couple of weeks have been kind of confusing between the two, at least for you. Your hands would brush and your fingers would reach his and you felt him doing the same, he would pick you up at your house to go to meetings and hang out, bring you books and favorite food randomly and help you with your bag, like now. Your bag was draped over his shoulders while his remained one sided. Now you didn't want to give too much thought into it because he has always been the gentleman since day one. It is his nature.

"You are smart, you don't need such good references, your grades speak for themselves" you say as you move in front of him and walk backwards. He chuckles as his gaze drops before looking up at you. "Me, on the other hand, have to work it up even for football or volleyball." You belonged to both teams at some point, currently being volleyball since the football team for girls was full when you decided to switch. You were good on both of them, so you didn't mind it much. More backup and background for college, right?

John Ambrose and you were the same yet different. He was confident, smart, yet kept to himself. You? Confident, smart but extroverted, yet around him you liked to keep that side of you in check unless it was required. You felt that if you were too extroverted he would shy away and you didn't want that. John Ambrose was a great friend and you liked him, but who didn't? He was a prince charming compared to the rest of the guys at the school.

"You will do fine" he assures you and you shrug your shoulders as you sign up on the paper at the desk. As you turn, he is fidgeting with the zipper of his bag.

"You okay, Ambrose?" He'd cringe at first when you called him such, liking better the first and middle name for some reason. Now you, deciding it was too much, rather call him Ambrose when you wanted to tease or just randomly.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine" he smiles, all white pearl teeth and you can't help but fall for him a bit deeper. "Meet you at the cafe later to study?"

"I thought we'd go to my house. I still have your pile of books, you know?" You mention him.

"Oh, right. Then, I, um…"

"I'll see you after five. Don't be late and don't forget my breadsticks." When he comes to your place he always brings pizza, and now breadsticks after he tried a new pizzeria.

"Sounds good" he says and you go behind him to take your bag off his back and as you do, he turns around and helps you put it on your own. You didn't need the help, he knew you didn't, but he always helped, and his proximity to you when he does makes you nervous. You could feel his breath so close to you...

"Bye" you say and press a kiss to his cheek before storming off.

"These are still the best breadsticks ever" you say as you chew on the last one, legs crossed on your bed while John Ambrose was right beside you, his legs hanging on the edge of the bed.

"Best pizza yet" he says and you both chuckle.

"I am going to miss this during the weekends" you admit. Weekends were the days you'd both spend on your respective community services.

"Me too" he says with a smile and hangs his head as he does and you eye him. Gosh, he was just so dreamy with that hair, that beautiful skin color...that smile...

"I'll miss you too…" You blurt out and feel like taking it back but he looks up at you, something along the lines of confusion crossing his mind. You simply shrug, "I know it's a few days but, I guess I got used to you being around on weekends…" you admit.

"Y/N, is not like we are going to college…"

"Ugh, don't bring that up" you frown. The two of you, and that was a fact, would be going to different colleges. Different interests, different futures, yet...

"I'll be a call away, or a video call away. Your choice" he says and you sigh, he just smiles softly at you.

"Sure. Unless someone catches your eye there and-"

"You do realize Belleview is full of 70 or even 80 year old people, right? That's not going to happen" he says chuckling.

"What about a volunteer?"

"Too short of a time for that. You know I'm not like that…"

"And that's why I like you" you say and your eyes widen at your words and so do his "...like your way of being because you are not like other boys who fall in love with the first girl before them…" you say and add a nervous laugh, and you know he will notice. Every time you get nervous, you would rant.

"Y/N…"

"I think I should clean this up. Yep, let me clean a little" you say and jump from the bed. "Imma go get a trash bag" you say as you step on your flip flops and stumble nervously, a situation that if it wouldn't have been because he placed a hand on your waist and another one catching your hand, you would've tripped.

"Did you mean that?" His voice is almost a whisper, and he was serious. It wasn't the type of tone someone would use if they didn't care about your words.

You let out a huff and shake your head, not meeting his chocolate like hues, it would make you blush even more than you already were. "You know I like you, why else would I be inviting you over" you say as casually as you can master. It was up to him the way he wanted to catch the signal, but it was two ways, either romantically or friendly…

"Yeah, but…" he pauses and you slap yourself mentally and try to mute his next words. So much so that you close your eyes. Nothing good comes after someone says 'yeah, but…' and lets it hang there to create suspense. That was a fact.

After a moment of realizing no words were coming out of him, your body tenses because you feel him move closer, "Y/N, look at me" and that's when you knew, you were screwed. He was close to you, you could feel it, his breath felt so close...

Your eyes open slowly just to find him smiling. "What are you so smiley about?"

"Oh, nothing" he chuckles. "You just look cute when you are anticipating something."

"Pfft, yeah. How do you know I'm anticipating something?"

"Your hand is getting sweaty" he teases and wipes his hand on his jeans, yet not letting go fully of yours. "You closed your eyes and, not to mention, your confidence just left the window."

"My confidence is still here, thanks."

"Oh, really?" He moves closer and your body tenses. "Then why…?"

"For someone who is shy, you do like playing a cat and mouse game, Ambrose."

"Your body is tense."

"My body is trying to find a safe passage away from your teasing" you say with a smirk.

"Okay then" he says and let's go of your hand before he stands up. "I should go. It's late" he says as he gathers his belongings. "I can help you clean, if you want."

The part of 'if you want' was not an option. He always stayed to help and today was no exception. When he leaves, you close the door and lean against his, forehead hitting it a few times before you let go of the door handle and go up to your room.

"So how is Belleview? Your grandma?"

"Oh you know, being herself. She took one of the girls under her wing and it won't be long until she runs off."

"Hm, a girl. Interesting" you weren't even going to hide the slight jealousy that laced those words.

"Yeah…" he drags the word out and you eye him through the screen.

"What's up?" You knew something was up.

"Remember that letter I told you about? From a girl that I used to hang with in middle school?" Your body tense because you remember that oh too well.

The letter was...intense for a young girl. The whole letter situation was a yellow light on your way to confess your crush to John Ambrose a week or two ago. A huge sign of 'Beware' displayed on it when you were handed the envelope. He seemed so happy about the letter that your confidence left your body as soon as you began to read it and how he quickly said he would write back. This girl seemed special, in a way you couldn't tell. Reason enough to think the worst when he mentions the letter and the girl in the same sentence and so hesitantly.

"She is actually volunteering here at Belleview. Can you believe it? After so many years I get to see Lara Jean again" he sounds so excited you can feel your heart tightening.

"Oh, that's...that's great. I'm happy you two got reunited after so long…" you try to sound cool. "Did she mention why she sent that letter after so long?"

"No, she just wants it back. I'll lend it to her but I can't give it to her…"

"Right…You want to hold onto the one letter that reminds you that someone liked you back then" your tone lowers in disappointment, because you cared about him now. You liked him now. Not a few years back like this Lara Jean girl. It was now. Yet he still wanted to hold onto that, as if no other girl would ever like him.

"You know it…Hey, are you okay?" He looks confused as he stares back at you through the screen.

"I'm fine. I will, um, I will call you later, okay? Enjoy Belleview…"

"You are lying to me, what's going on?"

"We can talk about it at school. No rush, okay?" You try to wave it off. "Have fun."

"Y/N, come on."

"Nope. Not doing it" you shake your head. "Gotta go. These plastics won't sort themselves by numbers" and just like that you are quick to press the red button on the screen to bring your lockscreen up, leaving a confused John Ambrose hanging.

Usually you wait for John Ambrose at the staircase at school but today your head was spinning on what to say to him. There was no way he would forget you two have a conversation on hold. You were stacking your books at your locker, your mind running every word and every scenario. You reach to close your locker and when you do, the one and only was standing facing you leaned against the other locker. "Holy shoot, Ambrose! Don't do that!" You shove him playfully as you two start to walk, he is chuckling on the other hand.

"Good reaction though" he says and reaches for your backpack, this time throwing it on one side of his shoulder. "You want to talk outside?"

"Talk about what?" You chew on your lip getting nervous.

"Well, for starters, you hung up on me the other day after I told you about Lara Jean."

"I….The manager was on his way…" improvised excuse.

"You said you were on your break" wrong excuse then.

"I…Battery was running low."

"Your phone has a solar bat-"

"Can we agree I'm bad at coming up with excuses around you?" You say as you glare at him and he chuckles.

"Yeah, let's do that" he says and turns to you. "So?"

How to sugar coat it."Let's just say…" pause. "I am jealous that another girl will take your attention from me" you try to ignore his look. You can see him from the corner of your eye.

"You don't need to worry, you know that right?" He says and once outside he steps in front of you. "You are, like, my best friend. Nothing will change that."

"Sadly…" you mutter.

"What?"

"What?"

"Come on, Y/L/N. Talk to me." You hated when he called you by your last name. It meant he was being serious...

"Its just weird, you know? She writes you a letter after so long, all of a sudden and now she is at Belleview. Like something is up with the constellations and planets that are lining up for the mysterious event to happen" you wave your hands around and he smiles.

"Her sister used to do community service there, I'm guessing she was referred to by her" he shrugs.

"How convenient...And you knew…"

"You are jealous, aren't you?" And at that moment, you wished a hole opened up and swallowed you.

"No" yet you don't scoff, you just look away and lean against a tree. "I just hope that if everything turns out to be the way I see it...she doesn't break your heart."

"What? No, Y/N. Nothing of that-"

"I know you a bit too well and the look you had when you told me she was there I've only seen it two more times. When you read the letter and when you said you sent the letter" he frowns at your words.

"I used to like Lara Jean, yeah, but that doesn't mean-"

"You are basically telling me that you had a crush on this girl who you now know felt the same way and you just saw her yet you didn't feel anything. That's not true…" you sink your hands in your jeans to stop yourself from crossing them over your chest, or he'd know you are mad.

"I can prove it" this should be interesting. "Her and some childhood friends are going to dig a time capsule we hid a while back" you make a face. "You can come along…"

"Sounds childhood friends exclusive only. I don't want to ruin it."

"I don't think they would mind. You'll fit in just right. Please?"

"Sounds like a terrible idea."

"If it goes wrong, I'll do your homework for a whole week."

"Fine" you roll your eyes and he grins.

"I'll send you the address. Now, I'm going to class, see you after?" You only nod and he grins wider, "Bye" and he presses a kiss to your cheek and walks away, leaving you flustered. Bold move.

Lara Jean, or so you guessed, with John Ambrose and another tall guy were before you as you walked awkwardly towards the small group. John Ambrose notices you and grins, excusing himself from the other two before heading your way, "You made it!" He says happily and your body tenses as you see more people joining.

"Aaaaand leaving" you turn on your heel to walk away yet he stops you by reaching for your hand.

"No. No. Come on, it will be fun."

"And awkward."

"I brought pizza, your favorite so you can't say no" he says as he starts pulling you.

"Fine…" you sigh.

"Guys, I'd like you to meet Y/N. Hope you don't mind I dragged her along" he introduces you.

"Hi hi" you wave with a grin at the group.

"This is Lara Jean, you've heard of her. Peter, Gen, Chris and Trevor" he pointed at every single one of them.

"Nice to meet you guys" you say and wave a peace sign in the air. Chris seemed cool, so did Trevor. Peter, you believe you have seen him in lacrosse games before, and Gen...seemed way too serious. Now Lara Jean...she was beautiful, you had to admit it. You could see why John would want to try something with her and that made you feel uncomfortable. "And I'm mostly here for the pizza, at least the last slice."

"Then we will have to fight for it because that's always mine" Peter says and your eyebrows raise teasingly.

"I think I can take you" you snark back with a grin, Peter reciprocates it. You look a bit at Lara Jean and she is looking between the two of you before speaking up.

"Anyway, let's go dig that time capsule."

"I can go ahead and set everything in the tree house, that seems like exclusive from you guys" you shrug.

"Yeah, I wasn't aware we were allowed to bring outsiders. I could've brought some friends" Gen says in a tone that irks you. And you would be lying if you didn't want to say something back. Fortunately though, John Ambrose nudges you.

"Go ahead, we will go up there in a bit" he says and you smile. This time Lara Jean looks between you two strangely.

"Sounds like a plan" you say, ignoring the looks before you climb up the treehouse and you are handed the pizza and the cupcakes which looked delicious. You set it up and pour the drinks in different cups in a small circle.

It wasn't long until the group joined you and they started pulling things out of the metal container that revealed something special for everyone. You spoke with Trevor about Linkin Park for a bit, laughed at John Ambrose's Patriots cap and things got awkward then when Gen said that Lara Jean bought a jersey to impress John.

"If that's true, that's really cute" he says to Lara Jean and she giggles. Peter eyes them and so do you for a moment. You could almost feel his body tensing in a jealous way.

"Anyway, Y/N, tell us about yourself" Chris breaks the awkward silence and you are thankful for it.

"Well, I practice soccer and volleyball. I like to hang out with friends-"

"Mostly just me" John steps in.

"Shut up, Ambrose" you shove him and he chuckles. "I met him when he moved to the school and we have been very good friends ever since" you say with a grin.

"Hey, McClaren, didn't you have a stutter back then? I noticed you don't have it anymore" Peter steps in. Okay?

"Uh, yeah, used to. My teacher would be happy to hear that."

"His stutter was the cutest thing ever. Sometimes there are traces of it still, when he gets nervous" you tease and John playfully glares at you. "What? It's true" you giggle and you can feel Lara Jean's eyes looking at you.

"Only you knew that" he says and you shrug.

"It was worth mentioning" he smiles and shoves you playfully.

Time goes by fast and the group calls it a day. John offers to help Lara Jean clean up and you try to hide your frown which vanishes when Peter steps in.

"I think I can help my girlfriend clean up" Peter says and your eyes widen suddenly and your eyes fall on John Ambrose whose never fading smile is no longer there. Lara Jean looks at John Ambrose and then up at Peter. So Lara Jean didn't mention to John Ambrose that she was with Peter? Wow.

"Perfect, cause Ambrose here and I had some plans" you try to cover up and step besides him. "Come on, let's go" you say with a pleading smile hoping he catches up. You tug on his hand to get him to move.

"Right, I…umm...I'll see you later" he says before he follows you.

"Nice to meet you guys!" You wave as you two walk away.

"So you didn't know?"

"She never mentioned it…" John Ambrose says with a small frown, his eyes looking down.

"Interesting" you nod your head before frowning. "I knew something was up from everything that you told me…"

"I thought...I don't know…"

"Hey, you didn't know. That's okay. It is not your fault, Ambrose. Don't try to blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong…"

"Right…" it's all he says.

"Maybe this is the signal you needed, you know? To let go of the past, get on with your present and future…"

"Maybe…" he says and falls back on his bed. You have gone to his house after the whole awkward scenario.

"You should…" you choose your words carefully, cause you know they will be out of place, and most importantly, not sound too selfish. "You should get rid of that letter, so you don't hold onto some hope…"

"You know what that letter meant for me, Y/N…"

"Yeah but...gosh, do I need to write you one, Ambrose? Because right now I don't know how else to say it" you say as you stand from the bed and he sits up looking confused.

"Say what?"

"You are...so blind sometimes…" you sigh. "You know what, don't make me say it…" you frown. "I know you want to hold onto the one thing that reminds you that someone liked you in middle school, and that's okay…" the next words get past your lips before you can even process them correctly in your head. "but what about who likes you now? Doesn't that have more sentimental value or whatever?"

"Wait, who likes me now-?"

"Oh my God, Ambrose. Me!" You blurt out and your eyes widen just like his. "This is...terrible, terrible timing but I need you to get your head to go past that letter. It will only hold you back…"

"Y/N...I don't know what to say...I-"

"Don't...just...nevermind it...I didn't expect anything to be said" you bite your lip and reach for your keys on his desk. "I'll see you at school, Ambrose." You had to get out of there. Quickly.

"No. Wait, Y/N, come on…" he is quick to stand up and get in between you and the door. "Do you mean that?"

You scoff at the question, "You think I'd blurt something like that and not mean it? I thought you'd take a hint with everything but gosh, you are so naive sometimes" you smirk weakly. "You are basically the only guy that I keep close, invite him over to my house, to go out, I join you and support you on everything and the funniest thing is that at first I did it because it was fun and I liked spending time with you because you are such a great guy and all of a sudden it became more...I don't even know when all of this happened and I'm sorry...I didn't want to ruin our friendship if I said it before…" you admit.

"You would never lose that. Why would you think that?"

"Because you are hung up on her...You look at her in this way and you get so happy talking about her…" you bite the inside of your cheek. You have let on more than you expected and in the most successfully awkward, ranted way possible. You had to-no, you needed to get out before you said more. "I have to go…" and you walk right past him and get into your car before driving off, leaving him behind.

[luminousbeansarewe]

wandering stars

ch 16: what’s given

pairings: none || rating: teen || characters: original characters, original clone trooper characters, nala se

tags: discussion of medical procedures

chapter list

tagged: @yourbitchystudentartist​ @lordimperius​ @tupdidtherightthing​ (message me or reply if you’d like to be tagged!)

*************************************************

Kamino, Tipoca City, Clone Military Education Complex, 22BBY

    Usually, during the blink of rec time between dinner and lights-out, Cronos Squad could be found playing grav-ball, sparring (the boys were determined to best Sol at hand-to-hand, though since she’d stopped going easy on them not one of them had managed it), arm wrestling, or fitting in some extra target practice. The things that most of the clones did.

    But once in a while they’d all end up at their bunks, listening to Sol talk about the rest of the galaxy. Having been here in the diffused, sterile white light of the Kaminoan facilities their entire lives, with no knowledge about the outside world other than what they’d learned in their early education classes and holovids, storytime with Sol even drew the occasional crowd. 

    “What’s your favorite planet you’ve ever been to?” asked a clone who’d crowded onto Grip’s bed with him to listen, who everyone was calling Angel.

    “Hm,” Sol murmured, rubbing her bottom lip pensively with her knuckle. Truth be told, she was a little spaced out— she was sitting down on Stone’s bunk, letting him practice braiding her long, white hair. Every time he gathered a little more hair from each side of her head to weave into it, a calming sensation came over her. It was nearly the only time she could recall enjoying being touched by anyone. The big clone was gentle, and took his time as he listened. 

    “Was it Coruscant?” asked another clone from a little above, in the bunks next to the ones Cronos Squad occupied. 

    “No,” she said decidedly. “Absolutely not.”

    “What! But there’s so much to do!” 

    “That’s why I hate it. There’s a lot of noise, and a lot of lights, and it never stops. It’s maddening.” 

    “Sounds like my kinda place,” another clone chuckled. 

    “What about Hosnian Prime?” The questions were being volleyed from all over now, by clones she’d never even met.

    “I spent most of my time in the Outer Rim,” she disclaimed with a wave of her hand. “Sometimes the Mid Rim. Not much in the Core.”

    “Why not?” asked Twofer.

    “Didn’t have the money,” she said with a grin. 

    “Are the Outer Rim planets really as run-down as everybody says?” asked Angel. 

    “Some of them are, but not all of them.”

    “What about wild space?”

    “It’s barely settled at all, though there’s still trade that comes in and out.” 

    “You never answered the question, little’un,” Stone reminded her. Sol had stopped rolling her eyes at that nickname about two months ago. He was, after all, larger than his vode and therefore a lot larger than her. 

    “Well, it’s hard to say. I’m fond of nice landscapes, with not that many people. Like Kaller, or Takodana. But sometimes a place that’s not green is nice too, like the desert on Cantonica.” 

    “Or Tattooine,” suggested another clone. 

    “Mm.” The mention of that particular planet seemed to draw her lips thin. “So, it’s hard to say. I have the most fond memories of Takodana, though.”

    “What’s it like?” Grip asked, bouncing a little on his bed. 

    “It’s beautiful,” Sol said, closing her eyes as memories ran through her mind on a slow reel, awash with the same wonder she’d always felt as a child when looking out the viewport on their way to the surface. “It’s covered in lush green, and little pale blue lakes that settle between the forested hills like the planet’s a million hands held together, letting the rain collect in its palms. The air’s always a little hazy, with wisps of low clouds vanishing behind every corner as you come into low atmo. It smells green, and rich, like anything would grow if you just threw it on the ground.”

    “Wow,” murmured a clone who was sitting on the floor, eyes wide. 

    “Are there any people there?” asked a clone she’d heard called Niko before. 

    “Only a few,” she said, unable to keep a sly grin off her face. “They tend to be travellers, wanderers, smugglers. Pirates. Chaavla types. Just passing through or laying low awhile. It’s something of a safe haven.”

    “How’s it safe if there’s dangerous people there?” Swift asked, frowning.

    “There’s a no-fighting rule. Anyone can go there, as long as they keep their hands to themselves. It’s really the only settlement on the planet, and the ahlor, the boss, says no fighting. By anyone. Ever. Or she has the ancient assassin droid kick you out.” This caused a murmur among the listeners. 

    “Ancient assassin droid, huh?” murmured Twofer. 

    “They say the castle there once belonged to the Jedi, and there are tombs more than five thousand years old in the catacombs below it,” Sol added, remembering her childhood fascinations. “But it was a derelict when the boss took it over. That was nearly nine hundred years ago.”

    “Wait— the same boss?” asked Angel, eyebrows shooting up. “Are they immortal?” 

    “She always said she wasn’t, but I’m not convinced,” Sol replied. Another murmur, and she had really begun to enjoy the excitement and curiosity and doubt of her enraptured audience. 

    “Tragic there’s a no-fightin’ rule. Means we probably won’t ever get to go there,” Grip said, his smirk wry. 

    “Yeah, that’s too bad,” Swift added. “I wanna meet the assassin droid.” 

    “You would,” Twofer laughed. 

    “Cadets!” came a sharp voice— another clone in captain’s armor was coming down the hall. All the clones who weren’t in their own bunks jumped up from the floor or down from the beds they were hanging out on, and stood at attention nervously. “Lights out! Back where you belong!” 

    They scattered, murmuring ‘yessir’s as they went. The remaining clones hovered, not sure if they should be standing at attention or just staying where they were. 

    “Cadet Tannor, you’re wanted in the Primary Medical Facilities,” the captain said from under his helmet as it bent down to look at Sol. 

    “Oh,” she muttered, surprised. “Yes, sir. I’ll… uh… figure out how to get there.”

    “Do you need an escort?” The captain sounded annoyed.

    “I can take her, sir,” Swift offered, stepping out onto the ladder that led down from his bunk.

    “Thank you, cadet,” said the buckethead with audible relief. “The rest of you, lights out. And you two, no wandering on your way back.” 

    “Yes, sir,” Sol and Swift said almost in unison. When the armored man began walking away, Sol shuffled over to where her shoes were tucked away at the bottom of the bunk unit. 

    “I could’ve figured it out, you know,” she said flatly to Swift, who was also pulling on his uniform shoes. 

    “Yeah, but now you don’t have to,” he said, trying on a charming smile. While he did have a certain charm, at that moment it didn’t work even a little on Sol. She frowned, and strode out to the open passage between the bunk units. 

    “G’night, boys,” she said to Twofer, Grip, and Stone. Then, she reached up and touched her head, recalling the braid there. Tugging it over her shoulder, she stared down at it in surprise. “How’d you do that?” 

    “It’s easy once you get the hang of it,” Stone replied with a shrug. 

    “Will you teach me one day?” 

    “Sure.”

    Sol smiled, and turned back to exit. Swift fell in beside her at his eternally antsy pace. 

    “So what’s all this about, d’ya think?” he asked with entirely too much innocence.

    “I’m going to have to shoot you one day, aren’t I?” 

    “Sol! You’re so mean to me for no reason!” he whined, exaggerating his dismay. Her eyes cut around to the bunks they were still making their way through, at the cadets who were still settling in before sliding into darkness and sleep. 

    “Copaani mirshmure'cye, Swift?” she growled in a low voice at him. “Because I’ll do it. Shut up at least till we’re outta range, please.”

    “Fair,” he murmured with a nod.  Then he fell into an obliging silence, leading her out of the barracks and around a hallway she’d never seen to a set of transparisteel doors, then down another hall to a lift. 

    “But really,” he said as the lift door closed and they started to ascend. “Is something going on?” 

    “I have no idea, actually,” she replied, her jaw tense.

    “Really?” He raised a brow at her. 

    “Yes, really.” She threw him a look he’d started to get to know pretty well, a stern brow and a sharp glance that meant she was deadly serious. “I can't imagine what they’re summoning me for. I’m not feeling… different. I haven’t reported anything. Unless someone is reporting behind my back, but that would make you auretti, wouldn’t it?” 

    “You know I would never betray you, Sol.”

    To be fair, she didn’t suspect him, not really. She was just hoping he might stop being so persistent in worrying about her, ever. But this was starting to look like a long-term responsibility he’d taken upon himself. 

    “Yeah,” she sighed. “So, your guess is as good as mine.”

    They went through another maze of hallways until the light became conspicuously brighter, more abrasive. Which usually meant a medical center, inside the CMEC. Swift stopped as he came abreast of a set of doors, and before he could turn around and say anything to her, the doors swirled open to reveal a tall Kaminoan woman she’d never seen before. 

    “Sol Tannor,” the alien said in her high, airy voice. “And who’s this?”

    “CT-3990, ma’am,” Swift responded. “I was just escorting—”

    “Thank you, cadet. You may wait outside.” The fact that Kaminoans all spoke in the same mellow, low-variation lilt all the time didn’t make her statement any less final. 

    “Uh, yes ma’am,” Swift said, surprised but dutiful. Sol nodded to him, then walked through the doorway. When it closed, the alien held out her hands.

    “I am Nala Se,” she said. “I am the Chief Medical Scientist here. It is nice to meet you at last, Sol Tannor.” 

    “At last, ma’am?” 

    “We have been studying your genome for some time. You may be happy to hear that we’ve discovered the cause for the pain you are experiencing.”

    Sol tensed, instantly uncomfortable. “I… didn’t know you were looking.”

    “It’s been a side project of ours since your injury a few months ago,” Se explained. “We suspected a genetic cause. As you know, we Kaminoans take a great interest in such things.”

    “I see.” 

    The impossibly elongated figure of Se turned and pressed a panel on the nearby wall to bring up a display that showed a holomap of what Sol assumed was a strand of her own DNA. 

    “It appears that the gene responsible for the production of your proteins is malfunctioning,” Se said, zooming in on some part of the map. All of it made little sense to Sol, who regarded the medical diagram with something just shy of suspicion-- but not void of curiosity. “But it is only a partial malfunction. There are a great many proteins created in the human body. The most abundant is collagen. Your collagen production is at much less than half its ideal output. This causes your tendons to be weak, or missing entirely. Until we do a full body scan, we cannot be sure of how many of yours remain intact.” She turned massive, blinking eyes back to Sol. “It is surprising, to us at least, that your bones remain in place.”

    “Sometimes… they don’t,” Sol replied softly. “I reset them.”

    “Is it not painful?”

    “It is. But I’m used to it.” 

    “So, this condition has manifested for some time?” 

    “Most of my life.” Sol could feel her jaw tightening again. “Is this the only reason I’ve been summoned, ma’am?” 

    “It is not,” Se replied, not betraying any annoyance if she felt it. “While I’m afraid we were unable to develop a means by which to correct this genetic defect, we have engineered something else which may be beneficial to you.” 

    “Really?” Now she was really curious, one white eyebrow raised.

    “It is a chip, which we would insert here,” Se continued, changing the display to a holo of a human figure. It went transparent, revealing bones and nerves, and zoomed in so that one long, spindly finger could tap at the very base of the skull. “This is the top of your spinal column. We cannot alter the electrocurrents in your brain safely, not without causing a cascade of possible effects that would be undesirable at best. So instead we developed a way to simply downregulate your nervous system, to dull or even alleviate the pain.” 

    “All pain?” Sol asked, frowning.

    “No, you would still feel acute pain. That is important for any soldier, to know they are wounded. However the chronic pain you feel would be reduced considerably.” 

    For a moment, Sol was silent. She looked at the holo, strangely uncertain. Some part of her knew she should jump at the chance to have such a thing, to finally, finally get relief. But another part of her feared that strange new world— not for any reason she could summon. Just a nebulous feeling that a world without her pain would be difficult to adjust to, or that she would become changed somehow because of it.

    “How long would I be in recovery?” she asked finally.

    “It is an outpatient procedure. You would be fit to return to training after your appointment.” 

    Just that quick, everything she knew would shift. Sol chewed the inside of her lip, glancing around at the white room full of white equipment, at the door, at the holo, outside the transparisteel window to the barren hallway where Swift was waiting. 

    “Are you interested in this procedure?” Se asked, after granting her a moment to ponder. Sol took a deep breath.

    “I… think so. Are there any side effects?”

    “None that we have been able to foresee. We did investigate that possibility as thoroughly as our knowledge allowed, so we are optimistic about the unlikeliness.”

    “Can it be removed if there are any unexpected ones?”

    “Of course.”

    “When would I get it?” 

    “It could be done as soon as tomorrow.” 

    Sol took one last lingering look at the holo, the image of the spine and the blinking red light that showed where such a minute wonder would live inside her for the rest of her life, if she chose. If it worked.

    “Alright. I’ll do it.” 

    “Excellent,” Se replied, with something vaguely akin to happiness in her voice. “You may retire then, and report back here for the procedure at 0600.”

    Something felt hollow in Sol’s guts, a strange empty apprehension that was paralyzed with hope and fear at once. But she nodded at the tall alien. “Vor’e— I mean, thank you, ma’am.” 

    “You are most welcome,” Se replied, gesturing with one long, thin hand to the door. “Sleep well, Cadet Tannor.” 

    When she walked back out into the hall, Swift was waiting with a very expectant look. But he said nothing at first, only examined her face as she fell in beside him to go back the way they’d come.

    “Soooo,” he said finally in a quiet voice, “you okay?” 

    “I’m fine,” Sol replied, but her tone was opaque. 

    “You wanna talk about it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

    “Give me just a minute, please.” Her eyes were far away.

    “Alright,” he acquiesced, knowing the difference between a bristly, annoyed Sol and a troubled Sol even though he’d almost never seen the latter. She’d become much more expressive in the last few months, but this was a first. He led her through the halls in quiet solidarity, not once pressing the issue. It wasn’t until they were settling into their open bunks, feeling like the only two people awake in the entire building, that she finally spoke. 

    “They found a way to take the pain away,” she almost whispered, eyes on her hands but looking past them. 

    “Really? How?” he asked, eyes widening.

    “A chip in my spine.” She sank down into her bed, staring up at nothing from on her back.

    “Shouldn’t that be exciting?” 

    “Yeah. It should.” 

    “Well,” he started, “surgery is a little scary sometimes, even when it’s a good thing.”

    “It’s not the surgery I’m afraid of. It’s what comes after.” 

    “You’re afraid of not hurting all the time?” Now he was openly quizzical.

    “It’s just been this way my whole life, Swift. I… can’t imagine anything else.” At last her eyes flitted over to his, the weight in them stirred with possibility and apprehension. 

    “Believe me when I say it’s better, then, huh?” he assured her gently. “I’m happy for you.” 

    “Vor’e,” she murmured. “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.” 

    “Tomorrow?” 

    “It’s a quick thing. I’ll be done in time for morning mat training.” 

    “Oh.” He blinked, impressed, then looked back at her. “Sounds good.” But her eyes were still troubled. “Hey, it’ll be okay,” he added after a moment. “Get some sleep. You’ll see what I mean.” 

    “Yeah. G’night, Swift,” the young woman said, tugging the blanket up close to her chin and reaching for her bunk’s control panel.

    “G’night, Sol.” 

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.7

Camelot. Castle Gates. Night. (Standing outside the castle gates, Henry waits for Regina. Checking his watch, Henry decides to enter the town and find out what is keeping his mother.) Streets of Camelot. (Henry walks down the street carrying a torch. He hears a Dorocha approaching and finds a frozen-faced guard laying on the ground. Then he sees Regina lying near the guard.) Henry: “Mom!” (Dropping the torch, Henry hurries to his mother’s side, checking for signs of life. As he pulls Regina into his arms, a Dorocha charges Henry from behind. Defenseless, Henry braces for the inevitable but suddenly Regina raises her hand at the last moment, hurling a fireball at the spirit, causing it to disappear.) Regina: (Staring up at Henry, her voice hoarse:) “Let’s go home.”

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Mulan and Emma stand in the forest waiting for the fairies.) Mulan: "I still don't see how you could be so reckless. If you could’ve just kept it in your pants for a little longer, we would all be home by now." Emma: "Really? You think it's my fault we're here? Who was it that let Mordred get by them while they were on duty, huh? How about you talk about keeping it in your own damn pants!" Mulan: "All right, fine, I screwed up. But now Regina clearly has feelings for you so how are we supposed to leave here without breaking her heart and jeapardising our timeline?" Emma: (Her tone cold:) "You just concentrate on being where you're supposed to be and let me worry about my wife." Marketplace. (Regina makes her way through the town towards the tavern. Aladdin, who has successfully managed to ply his trade as a pickpocket amid his new surroundings, watches Regina as she passes. Ducking into a side street to count his haul of stolen items, Aladdin stumbles upon a conversation between a young girl and a stern sounding man.) Snow White: "I have reason to believe there is a plot against the King going on beneath your very nose, Sheriff." Sheriff: "My lady, I assure you nothing escapes my notice." Snow White: "Really? Then how was my stepmother able to travel to your part of town undetected?" Sheriff: "I'm sure the Queen is very capable when she puts her mind to something." Snow White: "The Queen has a suitor she meets regularly. I don't know who it is, but I tracked Regina down to a tavern once, I forget the name. Maybe you should start there?" Sheriff: "A tavern you say? (His eyes light up:) Oh I believe I know exactly where to start my search." (Listening in the shadows, Aladdin leaves his ill-gotten goods behind and hurries to warn the others.)

Seas of Meredor. Present. Morning. (Guinevere, Lancelot, Xena, Gabrielle and the Knights continue their journey.) Lancelot: (Looking out from a cliff edge:) “The Isle of the Blessed.” (The group take the ferryman’s boat to the isle and hear some screeching along the way.) Isle of the Blessed. (Stepping onto the isle, the screeching gets louder.) Sir Leon: “What is that?” (They all draw their swords.) Sir Gwaine: “I really hope I’m wrong.” (A wyvern flies down at them.) Lancelot: “Wyvern!” (More wyverns attack. Bedivere falls to the ground as he gets slashed.) Sir Bedivere: “You’re right!” (Xena steps over the fallen man and defends him from further attack.) Gabrielle: “Xena! The chakram!” (Taking the weapon from her belt, Xena tosses the chakram to Gabrielle. Taking aim, Gabrielle hurls the razor sharp disc. Ricocheting off two walls, the chakram takes a slice out of each wyvern before returning to Gabrielle’s waiting hand.) Sir Gwaine: (Breathing heavy:) “See? That’s how you deal with them.” Guinevere: “We need to keep moving.” (They enter another passage and more wyverns fly overhead.) Sir Leon: “Your Majesty, you must go on! We’ll fend them off!” Xena: “He’s right, we’ve got this.” (Xena, Gabrielle, Leon, Bedivere and Elyan remain outside to handle the wyverns while Guinevere, Lancelot and Gwaine continue forward.) Sir Gwaine: “Good luck.”

Altar. (Lancelot leads Gwaine and Guinevere toward the stone altar to find the Cailleach waiting for them.) Cailleach: “It is not often we have visitors.” Lancelot: “Put an end to this.” Guinevere: “I demand you heal the tear between the two worlds.” Cailleach: “It was not I who created this horror. Why should it be I that stops it?” Guinevere: “Because innocent people are dying.” Cailleach: “Indeed. (Cailleach laughs maniacally. Gwaine charges her with his sword raised. She throws him back with magic, knocking him out:) Is this the best you can do?” Lancelot: “I know what you want.” Cailleach: “Do you? And are you willing to let me have it?” Lancelot: “I’m prepared to pay whatever price is necessary.” (Cailleach motions for Lancelot to come to her. Lancelot walks resolutely toward her but is stopped by Guinevere.) Guinevere: “Stop. I can’t let you do this.” Lancelot: “I must. The Siege Perilous has remained empty for too long.” Guinevere: “You’re doing this for a chair?” Lancelot: (Chuckles:) “No, I’m doing this for Camelot. And you are Camelot, Guinevere.” Guinevere: “How can I live and rule without you?” Lancelot: “The same way you do everything. With dignity, compassion and grace.” (They kiss. Taking Guinevere’s hand, they approach the altar together to stand beside Cailleach.)  Cailleach: “So, Lancelot, will you give yourself to the spirits to save your people?” Lancelot: “It is my destiny.” Cailleach: “Perhaps. But your time among men is not yet over, even if you want it to be.” (Lancelot is confused. Cailleach looks at the tear in the veil and both Guinevere and Lancelot follow her gaze. Robin Hood is standing at the brink. He looks back at them with a smile and then walks into the shrieking veil.) Guinevere: “No!” (The veil closes. Guinevere and Lancelot now stand alone with the unconscious Gwaine at their feet.)

Robin’s Tavern. Past. (Robin stands alone in the tavern as the Sheriff arrives with some of his men.) The Sheriff: "Business a little slow? Well, I hope that didn't prevent you from making the money that you owe.” Robin Hood: “I don't have any money for you.” The Sheriff: “Well, normally I’d say debtor's prison would be a fine place for you to think about what you've done, but there may be another way for you to clear your debts.” Robin Hood: “I’m flattered, but you’re not my type.” The Sheriff: “Funny man. No, I thought you may want to avoid jail by handing over the Queen’s lover.” Robin Hood: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The Sheriff: “My spies tell me you have two new occupants upstairs so there’s no point denying it. The princess would also be most grateful for your co-operation in this matter.” Robin Hood: “Is that so?” The Sheriff: “Yes, indeed.” Robin Hood: “Hm. Well that’s where you and me are different, Sheriff. I would never sell out my friends. But then again, I don’t suppose you have any?” (Before the Sheriff can reply, Marian and the Merry Men surround him.) The Sheriff: “Brigands! Seize them!” (Outnumbered, his men do not move.) Robin Hood: “You were right about me, Nottingham. Thieving is in my blood. But how to be a thief with honour? I think I've learned the answer... By stealing from those who have too much and giving it to those who have too little.” Meanwhile... (Having been warned by Aladdin and gathered their meager belongings, Mulan and Emma climb out of their adjacent bedroom windows and jump down to the street below. Taking a moment to wave farewell to Robin, they make a run for it back towards the forest.) Regina: (Calling out:) "Emma!" Emma: "Regina!" Regina: "What's going on?" Emma: "It's Snow, she's called the cops on us." Regina: (Frowns:) "The cops?" Mulan: "She means the Sheriff and his men." Emma: "Robin's holding him off for now, but we won't have long." Mulan: "We have to go, now!" Regina: "Go? Go where?" Emma: "Into the forest. Tinker Bell should be waiting for us there by now." Regina: "But..." Mulan: "Emma, come on! (With her head telling her that she shouldn't, but knowing in her heart that she must, Emma grabs Regina's hand and pulls her along with them:) What the hell are you doing?!" Emma: "Just shut up and keep running!"

Morgana’s Hovel. Present. (Morgana screams and smashes some of her possessions.) Agravaine: “They were lucky.” Morgana: “And Regina?” Agravaine: “It was only by chance that her son found her.” Morgana: “No, you’re wrong. We were not thwarted by luck, it was Merlin!” Agravaine: “Merlin?” Morgana: “The Cailleach warned me about him. She said he was my destiny and my doom. It was he that thwarted us, I’m sure of it.” Agravaine: “So what’s to be done?” Morgana: “As long as he exists, I will never gain what is rightfully mine. (Morgana turns to Agravaine:) You must help me find this Merlin. And destroy him.” (Morgana steps away and Agravaine takes in a breath. Walking over to the other side of the hovel, Agravaine peers down what appears to be a large pit. At the bottom of the pit sits Drizella, who is shivering. Picking up a blanket, Agravaine tosses it down to her before turning to leave. Grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around herself, Drizella thinks about what she’s just overheard.)

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Running deep into the forest, Emma, Regina and Mulan stop for breath.) Emma: "Where the hell are they?" Mulan: "What does it matter? We can't leave like this." Tiger Lily: (Stepping out from behind some trees:) "I'm afraid we can't leave at all." (Tiger Lily steps aside to reveal Tinker Bell, who lowers her hood.) Tinker Bell: "Blue took my wings. I'm so sorry, you guys." Regina: "Took your wings? Because of the parade?" Tinker Bell: "I assume so. She said I had discipline issues." Mulan: "Well that's just great. Now how the hell are we supposed to get home?" Tiger Lily: "Mulan..." Mulan: "No! You said you could train Tink and get her ready. You knew this would happen and still you wouldn't use the wand to get us home." Tiger Lily: "We agreed that-" Mulan: "I didn't agree! I asked you the very first night whether you could use Tink's wand and you said it would be better to train her to do it. Well is this better?!" Emma: "It wouldn't have mattered-" Mulan: "And you!" Regina: (Stepping forward:) "Hey! (Shoving Mulan backwards:) Back off!" (Mulan instinctively moves towards her, but stops when Regina conjures a fireball into her hand.) Emma: "All right, that's enough. I need to think." Mulan: "Ha! Just try to think with your head this time and not with what's between your legs." (Letting her emotions get the best of her, Emma emits a pulse of energy, knocking Mulan backwards onto the ground. Both fairies rush to check on her.) Regina: "Emma... you have magic?" Emma: (Awkwardly:) "Yeah..." Regina: "Why didn't you tell me?" Emma: (Sighs:) "There's a lot I haven't told you. A lot I can't tell you, but know this... I have never loved anyone like-" Snow White: "There they are!" (All eyes turn towards Snow White as she rides in at the head of an entire platoon of palace guards.) Snow White: "Seize them! They have the Queen!" Emma: "Oh god, what do we do?" Regina: "Go. Run, I'll hold them off." Emma: "But what-" Regina: "I've seen how this turns out. I've already lost one love because of that child, I will not lose another." Emma: "Regina, you’ll never lose me." Regina: "Please! I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. (Realising they have no choice, Emma grabs Regina and pulls her in for one last kiss:) I'll love you forever." Emma: (Gripping Regina's hands in her own:) "Meet me in Storybrooke." (Holding on for as long as she can before the guards reach them, Emma finally releases Regina's hands and joins the others. Regina watches breathlessly while several riders speed past her. Catching one last glimpse of Emma, Regina smiles at her just as Emma uses her magic to poof them all out of sight. Still smiling at the spot where Emma vanished, Regina's demeanour quickly hardens when Snow White catches up to her.) Snow White: "Regina, are you all right?" Regina: (Wiping away her tears:) "I'm fine." Snow White: "You're safe now." Regina: (Nods:) "Yes, she is." Snow White: “What did you say?” Regina: “I said, thank you.” (Regina smiles up at her, but there is no warmth behind her eyes. All that is left is coldness and heartbreak.)

[justreadingfics]

Looking For a Heartbeat (12/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Chapter Summary:  Steve has a party.

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings for this chapter: angst, pregnancy stuff, jealousy, self-deprecatory feelings.

 A/N: I can’t thank enough for your huge ass patience towards this slow as fuck writer! I’m really sorry, guys, and thank you for those who stuck around despite the long wait. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. @nedthegay and @suz-123 (my angel) helped me with this one. Links are ruining posts, you can find the masterlist link on my description.

You clutch tightly the little paper with the address Heloise gave you, before shoving it inside your purse. You grab the strap hung on your shoulder, counting down the floors numbers as the elevator descends to the garage.

A goddamn support group.

Life truly is a little box of surprises, you realize for the millionth time lately. If you’re going to be honest, you’ve never taken these groups as something you would willingly join, or even take seriously. But then again, you’ve never seen yourself as a single mother. Or a mother at all. Yet, here you are.

You’re still deep in thought about your unexpected fate when the elevator dings and the door opens. You begin to step outside, but before you can go any further you bump into a broad structure.

“Whoa,” Steve grabs your shoulders, steading you, “Hey there, stranger,” He grins down at you.

Your nose scrunches up. When the hell has Steve started wearing cologne? Oh, yeah, since forever. But you weren’t so damn pregnant to be bothered by it before, “Hey, Steve.” You gulp down the nausea, pressing your lips tightly at him.

He steps to the side and smoothly blocks your passage when you tried to walk past him.  “Where’ve you been, it feels like forever since we last talked?” He asks, fumbling with the keys of his bike.

“Ahm, I’ve been… around.”  You hold your breath so that Steve’s cologne doesn’t keep messing with your stomach too much.

“Hm,” he narrows his eyes.

You shift on your feet. The heavy weight of Steve’s suspicious stare lodges on your shoulders, “I’ve been working on myself, Steve. Just like we’ve both agreed.”  His eyes soften when you speak, “Besides you’re the one who has just gotten back from a long mission. How was that, by the way?” You divert the subject, but you know you have to get out of there as soon as you can. If that woody scent hits your nostrils one more time, Steve’s white shirt would be ruined.  And you’ll have a lot to explain.

“It was a nightmare,” he grunts and shakes his head, “If you were there things would’ve been very different.” He smirks.

“I guess you’ll have to wait a little while,” you chuckle, wondering for a second when will you be able to be on a mission again, giving your interesting condition. The woody scent twists your stomach once again and you grimace, “ Ugh… ahm, good to see you, Steve, see ya around,”   You move to walk past him again, still working on not throwing up on him and hoping he thinks nothing of your hurry.

“Are you feeling ok, Y/N?” Steve cocks his head and steps to the side again, blocking your passage “Where are you going? It’s almost dinner time…” He studies you carefully,

“I am… ahm,” Fuck why the hell is it so hard to lie to Steve? “I’m good.” One lie. “I-I’m going to this group thing my therapist recommended.” Not a lie.  

“Oh…ok…” He seems lost for a while, “Oh, hey, do you want me to give you a ride?” He wiggles his eyebrows, “We can catch up on the way.”

Now you’re the one frowning at him. Why the hell is he being so insistent on hanging out with you?

“I’m ok, Steve, thanks. We’ll catch up later. I have to go now.” You talk fast and swiftly dodge him when he once again tries to keep you in place.  

“Alright then, but, hey,” he talks from behind you as you rush to your car, gladly freeing yourself from the cloying scent and Steve’s interrogation, “My birthday is coming.” The reminder makes you stop on your tracks, “You know how Tony is... I’ll see you there, right?”

Oh, yes. Steve’s birthday… You had forgotten all about that. Giving it’s 4th of July, Tony always makes sure to throw a huge party, with fireworks and everything. Steve hated it. That prompted the whole team to always make sure to be there for him.

“I don’t know, Steve…” You look back at him and shrug, ready to turn down the invitation.

His face falls at your answer, “Ah, come on. You have to.”

You have absolutely no doubt Bucky will be there, too. No matter how many rules he invents about staying away, Steve needing him will always be a priority. He will be there. But, to be real, you don’t need the smell of Steve’s cologne to make yourself sick now. You could say no and just leave, but then again, you really don’t wanna hurt Steve and it would mean more questions…

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” You briskly answer with two thumbs up before sprinting to your car.

As you speed up and the garage doors open for you to come out to the streets, Steve stays in his place. Watching you. He grabs his phone from his pocket…

“Hey, Buck.” He greets after his friend answers the call in a heartbeat, “Yeah… Something is definitely up.”

~~~

When you become aware of your bouncing leg, you place a hand over your thigh to stop it. People are still settling down and accommodating themselves on the chairs forming a circle in the ample, illuminated room. They are chatting and talking friendly to one another as they sit down, seemingly unbothered by the presence of a new participant. Amara, the facilitator, and one of the nicest women you’ve ever met, has welcomed you already and told you be comfortable.

You decide to sit and wait, instead of socializing. She seemed to know who you were already and it’s something you hadn’t realized earlier. You’re an Avenger. Whether you like it or not, the Avengers are quite a famous group nowadays and it wouldn’t be a surprise that people would know who you were. Amara seemed to notice the concern seeping into your face and explained the group had a strict ethical code, including a secrecy policy. It eased down your worries momentarily, but if you wanted this pregnancy to be a secret for now, maybe joining the group hasn’t been the smartest choice.

“Ok, everyone,” Amara firm, but sweet voice resounds around the room and the chattering noise ceases down, “Let’s get started. Tonight, as you all can see, we have a new member on our group. Do you wanna introduce yourself, dear?”

A warmth creeps up your neck as all eyes turn to you and a few smiles pop up. You’ve never minded attention, but tonight, for some reason, it makes you wanna shrink down to the point of invisibility.

“Hi,” you say, waving quickly, before trapping your hands between your crossed thighs. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N...” You choke and can’t say much else and you don’t even have to reach out for Amara before she saves you.

“Welcome, Y/N. We’re really glad to have you here. Now, Meg, you asked before we started to share something with the group…”

The attention changes from you to this woman Meg, who tells the group she has done her third insemination procedure, which would be the fourth child she would have solo. It is a mixed up group. There are women of different ages, some of them pregnant and there were guys there, too. As you hear the different stories, troubles, achievements, and see how the members of   the group truly support one another, you feel more confident and willing to share.

“Anyone else?” Amara asks, when George finished telling about the first week he spent alone with his little girl after he and his ex-wife decided to share custody.

“Ahm, yeah,” you raise your hand timidly and all attention is yours again.  

Amara nods for you to continue.

You join your fingers over your thighs, “I’m twelve weeks into my first pregnancy.” You smile when you hear words of felicitations. “I’m not gonna lie. I didn’t plan this… But as unexpected as it was, and as new as it is for me, I simply can’t imagine myself without my baby anymore.” You take a look around and watch the nods and smiles, agreeing and encouraging you to go on.

“The father, well, he’s not around. He doesn’t know yet, it’s… it’s complicated.”

“That’s ok, dear.” Amara says, signalizing you don’t need  to explain it further, “I told Y/N about our secrecy policy.”  She addresses to the rest of the group.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us.” One of the guys adds.

“Thank you.” You say, “My therapist recommended this group after I attacked her with a rush of doubts and worries… I mean, as happy as I am, this is so new to me. I have so many fears and I’m not sure I’d be able to handle this alone. I hope and, I guess, now I know you guys will be able help me with that. I mean, Meg, you’re my idol. You have four now? How can you do it? It’s amazing.” You point out. “So yeah, that’s it. I’m happy I’m here.”

A loud thud coming from the doors grabs yours and everyone’s attention as startled faces turn towards the sound. There you see an alarmed guy making his way inside the room, but stopping on his way as he meets the wide eyed eyes stares from the group.

“Oh, shit,” He mumbles to himself before looking up at the group again, “Hi, everyone,” he waves shortly, as he cautiously walks towards the circle. His disheveled short hair and ragged breath showing he’s been in a hurry,   “I’m really sorry.” The blush on his cheeks becomes evident when he’s closer and takes a seat, “My sitter was late again…” he explains, “That teenage little devil”. He mutters through his teeth, before cringing at Amara.

“Hello, Harry,” Amara greets him,  “We’re glad you could make it anyway. We were just listening to Y/N, our new participant.” She raises a brow and nods towards you. The way she doesn’t chastise him for being late is an example of the comforting vibe you’ve been getting from the group. No judgments, just understanding and acceptance. After all, if it’s a support group for single parents, everyone supposedly knows the struggle.  

When Harry spots you he cringes again and mouths an apology to you. His clumsy disconcertion makes you chuckle.

“It’s ok.” You shake your head dismissively to Amara, “I guess I’m good for tonight.”

She then passes the word to Harry, who seems relieved to be able to talk. He engages into a nonstop rambling about the “teenage devil” and her propensity for shows like Riverdale, if only she put as much effort into school and responsibilities as she did knowing the backstory of each and every character…Maybe he wouldn’t be also coaching her through her algebra homework. A perpetual shade of red darkens his neck, as an evidence of how much he needs to talk, but the attention seems nothing but unsettling for him. As he does talk, you learn he’s a father of a couple of three year old twins, a girl named Luna and a boy named Jon, who’ve been watching Peppa Pig in a loop and refusing to eat vegetables without a dessert bargain.

He talks fast and uses his hands a lot. He’s wearing a Darth Vader white t-shirt over some black, washed jeans. You’re sure you can see what it seems like a chocolate stamp on his t-shirt –probably in result of one of those dessert bargains.  He’s not particularly built, but by his physique you assume he finds time to go to the gym or something. You can’t say the same about shaving, giving the light, messy scruff growing on his jaw. He is unkempt, his brown hair is short and fluffy, like a puppy who, after a whirlwind day of excitement  couldn’t be bothered with something as inane as grooming.

You can’t stop the small smile on your face.  

When he’s finally done, Amara calls for a coffee break, which is more than welcome since you realize you’re actually starving. Unashamedly, and relying on the pregnancy excuse, you bolt to the table and help yourself with the most appealing cinnamon buns you’ve ever seen. You grab two for good measure and walk away from the table.  

“Hey.”

Chewing, you lick the sugar from your lips and turn around to see Harry, with the same apologetic expression he held when he got in late, holding a cup of coffee.

“Hi,” you answer after swallowing down.

“I’m really sorry I interrupted you when I busted in.” He says, scratching the back of his neck, “I didn’t mean to make so much noise and take the attention out of your moment to share. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, no.” You wave your hand in dismissal. “It’s ok. I was done talking, anyway. Don’t worry.”

He lets out a relieved sigh, “Can we start over?”

“Of course, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.” You extend a hand and offer him a smile.

“Very nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Harrison Graham-Ford.” He accepts your handshake, “But you can call me Harry,” he swiftly adds, letting go of your hand.

“Wait..." You squint and dip your chin, "As in... Harrison Ford?" You bite your lip, holding back a laugh.

“Yeah, I know,” he grimaces, “My mom thinks she’s funny, but she’s just a Star Wars nerd.” He shakes his head.

You lift an eyebrow at the same time your eyes drop to his Darth Vader t-shirt, already feeling the laugh bubbling up your chest and curling up your lips.

His eyes follow yours, before sighing and looking up at you, “Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He shrugs and it makes you laugh, which he follows with a shy smile.

“It’s cute,” you say, before taking another bite of the pastry in your hand.

A shade of red flushes up from his neck to his face at your comment as the shy smile is stuck on his lips. You can’t help but find it adorable. You feel your chest lighten with the small exchange with him so far, lighter than it has been for a while.

“How many do you have?” He asks, after taking a sip from his coffee.

It takes you a moment to understand what he’s referring to, “Oh, just one. Right here, actually.” You point to your belly.

His eyes light up, “Yay, congratulations!” Harry raises a hand and you grin, corresponding to the high-five, “Welcome to hell.”

“What?” you yelp.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He giggles, “Well, sort of. It is hell, but a hell I wouldn’t trade for nothing in this world.”

You chuckle, bringing the last piece of your cinnamon bun to your lips.   There’s a deep fondness in the way he speaks that you’re only beginning to understand.  You wonder what circumstances could have turned him into a single father of twins, but you decide to keep it to yourself, not wanting to be invasive.  

“So, what do you do for a living, Harrison Ford, besides chasing after ancient relics, of course?” you smirk.

He grunts playfully at you, before answering, “I’m a computer engineer. Yeah, I know, don’t hold back your excitement,” he jokes, “What about you?”

You bite your cheek, taking your time to think of an answer, what’s the right thing to say here? Should you straight up say you’re an Avenger?  “I, ahm, work at a security organization. But I’m on a break now.”

“Oh, security, really? National?”

“Ahm, universal would be a more appropriate term.” You answer, matter-of-factly.

“Ha, you’re an Avenger, then.” He laughs, obviously thinking you’re joking, but when he catches your tighten lips, he squints his eyes, which widen when realization downs. “Y/N Y/L/N! You are an Avenger.” His voice comes out in a squeaking tone.

“Yeah,” You sigh, “That I am.”

“Oh my God. I’m so stupid,” He smacks his own forehead, making a face, “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first, but of course I didn’t, when would I imagine to find an avenger here. An avenger…” His arms rise in disbelief and he almost spills his coffee in you, “Wait.” He goes quiet for a moment, as if there are dots connecting inside his brain, before his jaw goes slack, “You know Captain America.” He whispers, pointing a finger at you.

“I do.” You respond, watching his reaction with amusement.

“Jesus Christ,” He covers his mouth with his hand, “I’m talking to someone who knows Captain America.” All the color from his face is gone and he continues rambling, gesticulating like he did before at the circle, “I’m actually speaking with someone who speaks with Captain America. You exchange words with him, actual words. Look,” He grabs his phone from his pocket. Taking a step closer, he unlocks screen, turning it to you.

You see a picture of him, and two little kids, a girl and a boy, who can only be his children, dressed in full Captain America’s suit pajamas. They’re gathered in an embrace, sporting huge grins on their faces. The sight causes one of your own to form on your face.

“I take it you’re a fan?” You note, as he puts his phone back.

“What?” He squeezes his eyes and shakes his head quickly, “Who isn’t?” Harry exasperates, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “God, I have so many questions, I mean, what does he have for breakfast? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It’s weird, I’m not a weirdo, I promise. Please don’t tell him I’m a weirdo.” He pleads.  

“I bet he’s seen worse.” You let out a chuckle, “Hey, you know what. His birthday is in a few days.” You point out.

Harry snorts a laugh. Of course he already knows that.

“There’ll be a party at the Tower.” you continue. It isn’t uncommon for Tony to invite a few of Steve’s fans to celebrate his birthday, the ones who are not bat crap crazy at least and Harry seems to be pretty sane compared to a few others you’ve met, “Why don’t you come by? I surely can add your name on the list and you can ask him in person what he eats for breakfast.”

“Are you serious?” He gasps and you’re pretty sure he’s about to faint.

“Sure. That’s not a party for kids, though. I’m sure Steve will be more than pleased to arrange something another day…”

“Pfff, they don’t care about him. I force them to use the pajamas. They’re Iron Man kind of kids.” He rolls his eyes before continuing, “I’d really love to, Y/N. But, are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Yeah. Just, ahm, this,” you wave your hand around your belly, “I still haven’t told about this to everyone there yet, I have to ask you to be discreet.”

“Of course.” With his hand, he mimics a zipping move on his mouth.

“Ok, then.” You smile, “Give me your number and I’ll let you know about the details.”

Look at you. Exchanging phone numbers with a guy on your first day at the support group. Heloise will be proud.

~~~

Oh, Steve’s gonna hate this party. It’s everything he loathes: crowded, loud, extravagant and expensive. You don’t personally know almost anyone there, but from the seat on your table, you see a lot of famous faces. Actors, actresses, singers, politics, business people… Drinks and food are offered in exorbitant amounts and variety. A fancy DJ takes over the music on the dance floor while dancers and other entertainers put on their shows around the room. Classic Tony Stark. It will always be this way. Tony thinks Steve needs this kind of excitement and Steve doesn’t wanna hurt Tony’s feelings by turning it down. Two fools who adore each other but refuse to express themselves…

Except from Steve, who you spot across the room, as red as a tomato, surrounded by a number of beautiful girls, you end up being the first one of the team to get to the party. Not that surprising if you consider the anxiety ruling your feelings the whole day and the lack of disposition to put an effort on getting ready. You’re probably gonna see Bucky here. It’s been three months now, and you have no idea what to expect if you actually see him. With Anna. Will she be there, too? You scoff at yourself. Of course she will. She’s his girlfriend, after all…

Will he even talk to you? Will you want to talk to him? Given your last interaction you seriously doubt that would happen. But if it does… would you be able to keep your secret? Is that something you really want? Keeping your baby as a secret?

“Hey, beautiful,” Wanda finally arrives to the table you’ve been occupying alone, sipping from your non-alcoholic cocktail.

“Hi, there yourself,” you greet back as she sits by your side, “Where’s Vision?”

“Ugh, he’s working on his human form, I just couldn’t wait anymore.” She rolls her eyes, “You look amazing,” she compliments you, after leaning back on her chair to give you a once over.

You chose some old black dress from the depths of your drawer. The fabric is loose from your chest line down to your knees. Your body hasn’t changed that much yet, but observant eyes could notice some details here and there, making you opt to something which would somehow disguise the little changes. You smile back at Wanda, not really believing her compliment. Without noticing, you bring your thumb to your lips, biting your nail.

“Why are you nervous?” Wanda asks.

“You know why.” You keep biting on your nail, only stopping when Wanda gently pulls your arm down, making you look at her.

“Have you seen him, yet?”

You shake your head no, “Have you?” you mutter.

She also gives you a negative answers and a small silence settles between you two, before she breaks it, “How was the group thing Heloise recommended?”

“It was pretty nice, actually.” You acknowledge, swinging the straw on your drink, “I made a friend there.”

“Really?” Wanda beams, “What’s her name?”

You laugh at her assumption, “His name is Harry. I invited him to come tonight.” You take the straw to your lips to take a sip from your drink.

“What?” The small smirk on her lips is nothing but malicious, “You have a date?”

You cough, choking on your drink and putting it back on the table before furrowing your eyebrows at her, “A date? It’s not a date, he’s a fan of Steve, he was nice, I didn’t see any reason to not invite him.” Not even for a second you had seen it that way.

“Ok…” Wanda nods, but the annoying little smirk doesn’t leave her face as she props her elbows on the table and lean her head on her hand, staring at you.

“Stop, Wanda,” you admonish, “It’s not like that, besides, he’s not even my type.”

“And what’s your type exactly?”

Semi-stable 100-year-old super soldiers would be the answer, but you decide to just shrug instead.

“Alright…” She gets up, seemingly giving up on the teasing, “I’m gonna go grab something to drink, do you want anything?”

“Yeah, would you bring me some of this pineapple thing? It’s on the non-alcoholic session.”

‘Sure, be right back.”

You watch her walk towards the huge bar next to the dance floor before your eyes search for Steve again, just to check if he needs saving or something.

That’s when your heart jumps. The girls have vanished from around Steve and, instead, he is there. Bucky. He’s dressed in a well cut navy blue suit. The lack of a tie and the choice of wearing a black tshirt under it makes it more casual. And sexy. God, how can a man be so handsome? You take in a shaky breath.   

He has a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he laughs at something that has been said. That beautiful and rare smile which makes your hands cold and sweaty. The one that, when you saw it for the first time at that party, all those years ago, you didn’t stand a single chance. And just like then, you fall in love with him. All over again. Yeah… right, like you had stopped at all…

As you watch how longer his hair is after these three months, allowing him to tie the locks in one of those sinful low buns of him, you realize that, yes, lately Bucky hasn’t inhabit all your thoughts like before, but he’s been always there…A dormant sweet pain hidden in the depths of your chest. Ready to burst out at any given moment. You love him and you know that’s how it will always be. No matter what happens. No matter how much time you spend away from each other he will always be the one who takes your breath away.

Your eyes descend the length of his arm and only then her presence reaches your senses. There’s a small, delicate hand wrapped around Bucky’s elbow. A sour taste sweeps into your mouth as you take in Anna by his side. She’s wearing a long grey blue dress which embraces her slim figure flawlessly. You can see she’s chosen it carefully. The color matches Bucky’s outfit. Her dark hair is loose and falls on her back in big, silky waves. Does he wrap his hands around it? Does he snuggle on her to smell the scent of her shampoo? She’s laughing with them and rests her head on Bucky’s shoulder. Does she know he’s ticklish on that little spot between his neck and his jaw? Does she kiss him there and makes him squirm and giggle the way you did? Did he let his beard grow again because she asked him to? Does he like the taste of her? You feel dizzy and glimpse the thin strap of her dress casually falling down her arm. It’s sexy. Does he think she’s sexy?

She is. She’s perfect. Just like he said she was. And she’s not you, which makes her even more perfect for him.

You look up and your heart stops when your eyes cross with hers. Her beautiful smile falters a bit as she brings her other hand to Bucky’s elbow, who keeps talking animatedly with Steve. You make no mistake of that. It’s a protective grip the one she sets on Bucky’s arms. You watch her lively expression fall. You hold your gaze locked with hers and the images flooding into your mind are sickening. Excruciating.  You see her moaning under him, their legs untangled under his bed sheets. Her soothing hand on his bare chest guiding him out of his nightmares, the smile that was yours being directed at her.

You can’t breathe. It’s too much.  You force yourself out of your own mental torture and hastily get up before you practically bolt to you’re not sure where, leaving the offending sight behind.  

~~~

“And then Dot made this huge cake, but you couldn’t eat it,” Bucky animatedly continues to describe one of the memories he had of Steve’s previous birthdays, “Because it was so fucking terrible, you sneaked the whole three pieces she served you to her cat.” He and Steve burst out in laughs. It isn’t always the good memories come to him, but when it does, oh man, it feels good.  

“You should’ve seen it, Anna,” Bucky turns to the girl on his arm, but her attention is  not on him. Her gaze stares ahead, but he finds nothing but strangers when he follows it, “Hey, are you ok?”

The question seems to take her out of her mind as she turns back to him smiling, “Yeah, of course. I think I need to go to the bathroom, though. Will you guys excuse me?” She looks at Steve, who gives her a small nod.

“Sure. Do you want me to walk you there?” Bucky asks.

“No, honey. It’s ok. I know the way.” She answers softly and places a kiss on his cheek, “Be right back.” She adds, before making her path towards the bathroom.

When she seems far enough away, Bucky addresses Steve, “So…ahm, the whole team is  coming?”

Steve’s eyes roll, “Yeah, Y/N is coming, pal.”

Bucky’s attempt to defend himself and deny Steve’s assumption is confronted by a raised brow from his buddy. He then contents himself by letting out a huff, mumbling a “jerk” under his breath before  shoving his hands inside his pockets, “Have you talked to her again?” He asks, looking at Steve, after a quick survey around the room.

“No, I haven’t. But, hey, do you know who should?” Steve fakes a cheerful insightful voice before glaring at Bucky, “You.”

Bucky faces wrinkle in displeasure at Steve’s jeering, before he gets serious again, “You said you think something is wrong?” He brings up Steve’s call a few days ago.

“And I meant it, Buck. She was all weird, like she wanted to get rid of me as soon as she could saying she had a group thing… besides she looked a bit sick…” Steve narrows his eyes, “I don’t know, man, just talk to her. If she called you, she had something important to say.”

Bucky drops his head, shaking it. He knows Steve has a point. All he needs is to gather the courage to face you again.

~~~

After you splash some water on the nape of your neck as an attempt to ease down your nerves, you take in your appearance on the huge mirror by the equally huge bathroom sink.

You wish you could’ve spent a little more time on getting ready for tonight. Nothing but a plain black dress, the same old red lipstick and hair in your usual style. Nothing fancy. Nothing sexy. Nothing special. You didn’t even put a pair of heels, preferring the comfort of flats.

Shit, is it the hormones making a number on your self-esteem, or is the sight of the perfect couple out there? Yeah, probably both, but more the latter than the first.

“Hey,” Nat bursts into the bathroom, looking like a fucking bombshell, of course, “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?” she asks with her arms thrown to the air, strutting to stand beside you, “Why did you run here? Are you ok? Do you feel sick?” She puts a hand on your forehead.

“I’m ok, I’m ok.” You turn away to the mirror again, talking to her through your reflections, “Came here to refresh a bit. That’s all.” You shrug, pulling down a couple of towel papers to clean the water from your neck.

She hums, tilting her head to side eye you, before placing her hand on your belly, “And how’s my niece?”

“Niece?” You chuckle at her certainty, “How do you even know for sure it’s a girl?”

“I don’t,” she admits before leaning down to level your belly, “But if you decide to put a number on me like Nathaniel did, we’re gonna have a little talk when you come out of your mommy’s belly, sweetie.”

You laugh as you throw away the paper towel, but a flushing sound coming from one of the many cabinets shuts you up. Natasha straightens up and you two look at each other with widen eyes. You freeze when the little door opens and a girl you’ve never seen before gets out of there, tripping on her hills. She stumbles right past you, not even minding to stop and wash her hands before going back to the party.

You breathe again. Apart from you not knowing who the girl is, she seemed too drunk or high to recognize any of you or make sense out of your conversation with Nat.

“Come on,” Nat pats your shoulder and turns to the door, “Wanda is searching for you, she’s got some disgusting pineapple thing she says it’s yours.”

“It is mine and it’s delicious.” You point out, following her. “Your nephew loves it, by the way.” You laugh at the deadly glare she shoots you as she holds the door for you to come out.

You both walk back to the party, completely unaware that while you worried about the girl coming out of the cabinet, you missed someone else rushing away from the spot they had been. Right at the other side of the bathroom door.

~~~

“Have you seen Bucky, yet?” Nat casually drops the ask, walking beside you through the crowded and animated room towards where Wanda and a few familiar faces from the team are.

“Yes, I have,” you mutter.

“Did you say hello or something?” Her curiosity sweeps into her voice.

“Of course not,” you snort, turning your face to her, “Hopefully, I won’t have to.”

“Ugh, what a timing,” She mumbles under her breath, looking ahead as your eyebrow pucker at her words.

“Nat, Y/N!”

You tilt your head to follow the very well-known voice and get the meaning of her words. A pair of super soldiers, walking right at your direction as the blond one is one step ahead of the other, waving at you and too damn close for you to succeed on a sneaky get away.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Captain!” Nat pulls Steve to a hug when he approaches the pair of you, “Where are we now? Two hundred?”

“Getting there,” he chuckles, turning to you when Nat lets him go.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” You surprise yourself when you manage the quiet greeting to even come out of you. You hug Steve. As your heart hammer against your chest, you turn your face to the side so you don’t have to exchange eye contact with Bucky, who keeps himself planted behind his friend.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Steve beams at you and braces his hands on your shoulders when you pull away from the hug, “I’m really glad you came.”

You smile weakly at him, feeling the burning of Bucky’s eyes into you from behind his friend’s shoulder, but you don’t dare to look back at him, wrapping your arms around yourself and taking a step back. Where the hell is his girlfriend, anyway?

“Hey, Barnes.” Nat deadpans.

“Hey.” From the corner of your eyes, you see he doesn’t move his gaze from you when he answers Nat with a small voice.

The most awkward silence you’ve ever experienced takes place.    

“Hey, Nat.” Steve, clears his throat, “Guess who’s here with Clint?”

“Who?” She eyes him suspiciously.

“I give you one word: Budapest.”

“What?” She squeaks as her jaw goes slack, “Where?” She stands on her toes, her eyes roaming through the place.

“Come, I’ll show you.”

Unannounced, Steve drags Nat by the arm. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. Fuck, Steve. Swiftly, you move to try and walk past Bucky, who hasn’t budge from his spot, but a shot of electricity sparks through your skin as a gentle cold metal hand holds your arm, “Wait. Can I talk to you?” His mouth is close to your ear and his hot breath washes over your skin, creating a contrast to the cold- and longed- touch. Shivers rush down your spine unbidden.

Your eyes flicker from where he’s holding you to meet his blue ones, which convey an unreadable emotion. Gulping down the bubbling feelings inside, you pull your arm away and step back to face him, folding your arms protectively in front of your chest once again, “Listen,” you lick your lips and keep your posture high, “Yeah, I knew you would be here. I wasn’t gonna come, but Steve insisted, I won’t stay too long, though-”    

“What…No…” He breathes as a line creases his forehead, “I mean, it's ok.” He continues in a hunched posture, putting his hands back in his pockets, “Of course. Steve’s your friend as much as he’s mine. And… and this is your home.” His eyes darts to the side briefly, “I didn't think you wouldn't be here.”

Stillness lingers between you two as now your eyes simply can’t leave his. What does he want, then? Wasn’t he the one to demand distance? He seems a lot more at ease than he was on your last conversation through the phone. Submissive, even.  

“How are you?” He’s the one to cut through the void, stepping closer.

Fuck, he smells good.

“I’m ok.” You nod.  

“Good, great.” He lets out a breathy smile, before chewing on his lower lip, “You look good.” He says softly, eyes locked with yours.

You take in some air as you feel your mouth dry and your arms slowly unfold themselves. It feels like your Bucky all over again, no that one on the phone and,just like that, you’re melting inside. All the walls you’ve been building up to shield yourself from the pain, from the rejection, threatening to crumble down. Only one thought keeping them up: He’s here with his girlfriend, who isn’t you.

“Hey, ahm, I-I,” He stutters, shifting on his feet, “About the last time we talked. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have acted that way. I was a fucking jackass.” He looks down to the floor. You see the regret written on his eyes when he looks up again, “It felt like you had something important to say and I should’ve listened to you. I’m really sorry for that, I’m a stupid jerk.” He says the last line in a tiny voice, speaking more to himself than to you.

“Ok,” you barely whisper and stay still, only breathing through your mouth, unable to speak any other word as his blue eyes never leave yours.

He leans closer to you, “What was that you wanted to talk about?”

Oh... All the air escapes your lungs. Is that how is going to be? You’re gonna tell him now? Here? You want to. God knows you want to, but… You purse your lips, before taking in some much needed air, “I… I called you because… I have some news, I-”

“Bucky?”

Your heart plummets as you gulp down what you were about to say. Bucky’s gaze snaps from you to look over your shoulder and you watch his eyes following Anna as she passes right beside you, to place herself on his side, giving him a smile as she curls her arm around his waist.

“Oh, hey.” Bucky seems lost as he looks down at her.

“Hi,” She greets you, after turning to you with a small smile still on her lips.

Only then Bucky seems to be brought back to reality as he looks back at you with something you could guess as guilt, or shame on his expression. Your gaze shifts from him to Anna, using all your strength to keep yourself together, “Hello,” you nod, forcing a smile back and joining your cold hands in front of you, “How is it going?”

“I’m ok, thanks. How about you?”

She laces her words with kindness and you give her a standard polite answer despite the evident and suffocating awkwardness of the situation. You want nothing but to bolt away of there, feeling small, ugly, pathetic and stupid around them. Stupid to think there was the place and time to tell Bucky about your baby. To, for a second, imagine things would be ok and you could go through this pregnancy in peace, without the weight of you and Bucky’s complicated state of affairs. You want to bolt away, to ignore her perfection and Bucky’s pained stare to you.

That’s when you see your way out. Lost among the crowds, carefully and humbly dodging away from bumping into people as he awkwardly walks through the room. A genuine smile curls up at the sight of your savior.

“Harry,” you shout, making Bucky and Anna turn to see where you’re looking at.

Harry spots you when you wave at him and an evidently relieved smile forms on his face.

“Excuse me,” you say, looking back at the couple but paying no attention to the confusion etched on Bucky’s face, “I gotta go. Have fun.” You add, before finally leaving the scene.

Bucky can’t take his eyes off of you as you greet the man you called Harry with a brief hug. His stomach churns when he sees you two laugh at something the guy said and he hates how evidently the man blushes at your presence. He has to physically stop himself to chase after you and punch the little punk in the guts when you pull him by the hand and drag him through the sea of bodies in direction to where a few members of the team are.

Who the hell is this guy? And more importantly, what does he have to do with you? His heart leaps violently against the bones of his chest when a thought floods into his mind. The news you said you had… the reason you called him…could it have anything to do with this new guy in your life?

“Bucky, are you listening to me?” Anna’s voice reaches his senses.

“Oh, sorry.” He blinks, shifting his focus to her, “What was that?”

“I asked if you know who that is?” She asks curiously, nodding to your direction.   

“No, I don’t.” Bucky answers simply, smiling briefly to release the tense set of his jaw, and changes the subject, “Where’ve you been?”

“Oh, the bathroom down here was crowded, so I went to the one upstairs.”

Bucky nods, his gaze turning back to where you are on its own volition before Anna cups his cheeks, shifting his face back to her and brings her lips to his. Although being taken by surprise, Bucky lets himself relish on the intense kiss. It’s nothing like the kisses he and Anna are used to sharing. It’s demanding and full of want. Almost violent and he’s grateful for having the thoughts of you and your new friend away from his mind at least for a bit.

“I love you.” She whispers, pressing her forehead on his and like every time she’s said it before, he doesn’t say it back. He can’t. Instead, he just smiles and pecks her lips.

“Let’s go dance.” She tips her head back to look at him and takes his hands into hers.

“What?” His eyes well up, “You know I don’t-”

He wants to knock himself up when he sees her eyes casting down and the faint of a pout on her lips. He takes another brief glance at where you are laughing with Sam, Steve and your friend.

“Alright,” he gives in, “Let’s go.” He’s pleased to see her face lighting up again as she pulls him to the dance floor.

He doesn’t like to dance anymore. Not like he once did. But that’s not what really troubles him through automatic moves and smiles… it’s the thought of you pulling the guy with your hands. It’s thinking that what you wanted to tell him was that you found someone new. That you’ve moved on and would be with someone else, just like he had told you he had decided to be with Anna. Fuck… is that how he made you feel when he told you that?

Two or three songs later, the music stops and Tony grabs the mic, announcing it was time for singing happy birthday, inviting everyone to go outside and watch the fireworks by the pool.   

Like everyone else, Bucky does as he says. The happy birthday song happens, some gig involving a showgirl in Captain America inspired costume and a huge star spangled cake takes place- to Steve’s dismay. Then the fireworks start.

With Anna standing right in front of him, Bucky doesn’t really pay attention to any of that.  All he sees is you. There you are. A few feet away from him, adorably staring up in awe with the fireworks. The sight makes an inadvertent smile curl up on his face for a second. He loves the way your lips are an inch parted as you take in the show happening in the sky.

How can someone be so stunning?

You’re always so effortlessly beautiful. You take his breath away. You make him acquainted with his own heart. Always did and still do. He watches as you turn your head to the side to say something to the person beside you.

Oh, yeah. That guy is there, too. Right beside you.

His mind races at the same speed of the fireworks bursting right above him. Are you really with that man? Or is it just jealousy making him assume things? The little shit has nothing to do with you…What would you see in him? The punk is not even touching you…

But maybe it’s still a secret. Maybe you wanna tell him in person before opening it up to everyone. Just the way he did about Anna...Maybe that’s why Steve felt like you were hiding something from him the other day…

Does he touch you when nobody's looking, then? Does he know about that tiny spot between your waist and your hips? The one which made you squirm when he kissed it? Do you let him sleep in your bed? Do you whisper you love him right before he falls asleep, too? Does he keep you up at night with nightmares? Does he cling on you too much? Will you feel like running away from him at some point?

Bucky hopes not. He takes in a long, shuddering breath.You deserve someone who doesn’t make you wanna leave. Like he once did.

Anna leans her back on his chest and pulls his arm to wrap it around her body. He looks down at her and places a kiss on the top of her head, wishing her touch keeps him grounded there.

~~~

Right after the fireworks ends, most of the party goes  back inside, while you, Harry, Steve, Sam, Vision and Wanda form a circle by the pool to chat. Harry has marveled at everyone, but meeting Steve made him lost his shit. The funny thing is the Soldier blushed just as much as the fan at the interaction. Even after all these years, the Captain still isn’t used to the attention. But he did answer all the questions Harry made after you played the  part of the mediator of the communication. You’re glad Harry has been discreet as he promised, answering vaguely the times people asked where and when you two had met.  

“Steve.”

You look towards the sound to see Bucky approaching your little circle, arm in arm with Anna. You turn away while the rest focused on the couple.

“Hey, pal.”

“We’re going.” Bucky talks in a harsh voice directly with Steve, but the hard expression on his face is aimed to someone else. Harry on your side.  

“Already?” Steve asks as the others protest.

Looking at Harry you see him still, gaping at Bucky. The now familiar awestruck expression plastered on his face. You’ll have to disappoint him this time. There’s no way you’re going to introduce him to Bucky. You had your share of interaction with him for tonight. You glance up at the soldier and his chest is puffed, chin slightly tucked, making his clenched jaw evident. You hold back an eye roll. Is he trying to seem intimidating? What is that for?

While Bucky explains they have to leave because Anna has a lecture early in the morning and they say their general goodbyes your gaze meets hers. She’s been staring at you and doesn’t bother on turning away when you spot her. There’s something about the way she’s looking at you… you study her closer. It’s not intimidation like Bucky. It’s not anger, or jealousy…It’s fear, evident fear in her eyes. It unsettles you and you finally turn your eyes from her, relaxing only when the couple leaves the place.

~~~

“This was, hands down, the most surreal night of my life.” Harry brings both his hands to his forehead, shaking his head in disbelief, “I’ve never felt safer and also ready to drop dead at any moment, it was insane.”

You let out an amused laugh. It was fun to see the fascination in Harry at each avenger he got to meet. You thought Steve would be the highlight of his night, but it was certainly hilarious to watch him lose his voice when Natasha showed up. Now, the party is almost over and, apart from you and Harry sitting on one of the huge couches right by the pool, only a few people still lingered there.  

“I’m glad you had fun. Everyone really liked you.” You point out, slipping off of your flats and folding your legs to your side on the cushion, shifting your torso to face his profile.

“Pfff,” he shakes his head, but you can see the contentment on his face, “I can’t believe Tony Stark said he will drop by at Luna and Jon’s daycare. They’ll freak out.”

“Tony’s the most amazing person in the world.” You smile, leaning your elbow on the armrest to rest your chin on your hand, “And he loves kids.”

“Me too.” He nods, mimicking your position, “Especially mine.” He adds. The pride which he says the words with is adorable.

“Who are with them tonight?”

“My mom. Who still must be up waiting to hear about my Avengers escapade. I’m glad Thor wasn’t here, or else she would kill me for not bringing her.” He cringes.

The curiosity growing in you ever since you two met takes the best of you, “Ahm, can I ask you something?” He nods and you continue, softly, “What about the mother of your kids? Is she around?”

“She… she died when they were born.” He smiles tightly, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Oh my God,” You whisper, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s ok. The worst has passed. Not a good story to tell a pregnant woman, though.”

“How did you do it? All alone with two kids…” you can’t help but wonder out loud.

His head drops, “It was tough. I mean, really, really tough. When I caught myself alone with those two tiny loud creatures, totally depending on me… I thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it. But then my mom was there for me, and I went to therapy, the group happened, my friends….” He sighs, deeply, looking up at you, “And I love those little chipmunks so, so, so much. This love makes me stronger than I have ever been.”

You smile, recognizing the feeling.

“I would probably kick Cap’s ass for them. But don’t tell him I said that.” You both laugh after he goes serious again. “Don’t worry, it’s gonna be ok. The thing is we’re never really as alone as we think we are.”

“I guess you’re right.” You say, thinking about all the support you already have when just a few people know about your pregnancy.

“Can I ask you something, now?” His voice is quiet and gentle.  

“Go ahead.”

“It’s him, isn’t it? Bucky Barnes? The father of your baby?”

The easy smile you had on your face drops at once and you turn away before you give him a single nod, “How did you know?”

“Well… I felt like he could kill me only by staring at me when he saw me by your side, which was pretty scary, to be honest.” His eyes go round when he says this, “Also, you got all quiet when he came by with that girl and he was the only one you didn’t introduce me to…” He shrugs.

You purse your lips, “It’s complicated.”

“He doesn’t know?”

You shake your head, “I’ve tried to tell him before. Tonight again, but…It didn’t happen.” You press your lips between your teeth, “I don’t know how I will do it, to be honest.” You let out a humourless chuckle.  

He nods thoughtfully and stays quiet for a little while before speaking, “I know we’ve met just a few days ago, - and I can’t believe I’m saying this to an Avenger- but just know you can count on me...I bet that despite it all, everything will be alright.” He reaches for your hand on your lap and gives it a squeeze.

A ghost of a smile goes back to your lips, “I hope so, Harry.”

[ikesenhell]

1985 Camaro

AMERICAN DREAM, Chapter 2. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: Brief conversation about prior death, otherwise safe. Thank you @missjudge-me for commissioning this piece!

---

They camped out on the back patio until the sun set. He cooked gyoza and rice balls and some pan-fried chicken, and she ordered ice cream delivery, and they nested their knees together and tucked into a pint of something labeled ‘Just Ask’ and when he asked, she wouldn’t tell him, not even when he tickled her (It wound up being a delicious caramel-Oreo flavor). She instead told him about her degree and moving out, about keeping in contact with Mitsunari as he served in Tanzania through hand-written notes on origami paper. They swapped curated Instagram snapshots and embarrassing anecdotes and reminisced. 

“I’m sorry,” she said finally. “About your dad.”

Masamune shrugged. There was nothing to say. It hurt and always would, but that was his private journey. “Old bastard waited too long to have kids s’what. If he’d had me at a nice, respectable age, we wouldn’t be doing this, the old coot!” He waved a dramatic fist at the sky, relishing her giggles. “You fucked up!”

Overhead, his mother’s bedroom light flicked on. 

“Shit,” he muttered. She dropped her face into her hands to stifle the raucous laughter. 

“How—” Now she was whispering. Masamune wriggled closer, their legs reflexively entwining. “How’s that going?”

“Better than it used to. We can talk without yelling. Something something time and distance. I’m planning on hunkering down here for a little bit, and once all of the stuff is settled, I’ll probably go back north. The restaurant owners offered to hold my position for me, which is really nice.” 

“Hell yeah it is. Isn’t that kind of a cut throat world? They must love you.”

“Yeah. Good openings don’t stay open long in the restaurant biz, so that’s really cool.” Absently, he ran his thumb over the whorls of the deck. “What about you? What’s next?”

“Well.” And she paused, eyes luminous. “I got offered a job interview out east. It’s a good job.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Once upon a time, when she was too nervous to really settle her heart on something she wanted, she smiled shyly and fluttered her eyes away. Some things stayed the same. His heart surged as the familiar expression played out before him. “It could be a game changer for me.”

“That the case, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I have to do some logistics, and I have to interview, right? But if I get it…” She stretched up to the sky, wriggling her fingers long at the clouds, all the prickled flesh on her arms visible in the cold moonlight. Without thinking, he shuffled closer to warm her. “I mean, I have to actually get to the interview first, so there’s the first hurdle.”

Masamune chewed his lip. “How far out is it?”

“It’s in Virginia. Complete other side of the country. The plane tickets are outrageous.”

“Damn. Guess you’re road tripping, huh?”

A gust of warm breath huffed from her lips. “I mean, I hate going on them alone, but I don’t even have a car right now. Mine got totaled; kid hit me when I was driving down here. Guess I’m taking a damn greyhound.”

His first reaction was to say ‘yikes’, and then… well. Masamune paused, soaking in the possibilities. “So you need a car is what you’re saying?”

“Mmhmm.”

Back in the day, his dad often said that the universe lined things up. Masamune didn't exactly believe in fate—he believed in making things happen—but occasionally, he saw the reasoning. 

“How do you like eighties cars?” He asked. 

She eyed him, a smile in her eyes and voice. “Like the Camaro? Sure, it’s cool. Why?”

Masamune snickered. “Everything in the Date family is cool as hell. What if I told you I could get you a car and a road trip buddy?”

The click of her brain working was almost audible. “Don’t you have to be here?”

“Gotta wait for the death certificates, which is probably a week or so. Mom wants the Camaro gone, and if she has to be around me too long, she’ll probably get sick of me real quick. I might as well make myself scarce and hang out with a dear friend. Besides—I’ll cut you a deal on selling you it. Call it a test drive.”

“A test drive? For like, a week?” But she was grinning, her shoulders angled in toward his. “Weeklong test drives aren’t kosher, Mr. Date.”

“And I’m not Jewish.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Serious as my dad’s grave.” Masamume brushed a lock of stray hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Want me along for the ride?”

Once upon a time, years ago, the whole gang got into an altercation with an older man in a Ford pickup. They were only teenagers sitting on a dock, but the guy pulled up and screamed at them for ‘loitering’. Mitsunari tried to intervene, and when the man acted like he might hit him, Ieyasu almost threw hands himself. They’d retreated into the woods—and when the man left, Masamune, Mitsuhide, and she went back and lit the dock on fire to spite him. Right beforehand, she’d fixed him with the most mischievous expression he’d ever seen: mouth sucked into her teeth, eyes glittering, staring out from under her lashes. 

Now, she made that same expression, and it lit a fire in him. 

“We’d have to leave like…” She mentally calculated. “In three days to make it.”

“Or we could take the long road, do a little sightseeing, and leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” She echoed. Only a half second later, that smile was back. “I’m game.”

---

At six a.m. sharp, Masamune tried to wake her by flinging rocks at her window. That didn't work. At last he resorted to calling her, discovering that she stayed in a completely different room now. 

“Could’a used that knowledge,” he chuckled, hopping in place to warm his legs. The fog pressed in around him, September chill early this year. “Don’t suppose anyone is using that room?”

Her voice was thin, but warm over the phone. “No, it’s a home gym now.” 

“Great! I didn't hassle anyone else. Get out here, Kitten, we got a road to get on.”

She emerged twenty minutes later, sweatpants fresh from the dryer, wet hair in a sloppy bun and a suitcase click-clacking behind her. She never was a morning person. Masamune snickered and popped the Camaro trunk. “Wanna drive, or wanna let me do it?”

“You start. Can we get some Starbucks?”

“Ugh.” He clutched his chest, mock-wounded. “All of the coffee places in the world, and you want Starbucks. My palate is crying.”

Rolling her eyes, she slid into the passenger seat. “Drama queen.”

They got Starbucks. She tucked her feet into fuzzy socks and folded them under her knees, clutching the large mocha. Only the rush of the road beneath their tires filled the silence. Asphalt and trees emerged from the mist like a benevolent ghost, Americana obscured. They’d only just merged onto the highway when Masamune realized there wasn’t an audio jack in the car.

“Shit,” he muttered. 

She opened her eyes, head lolling on the headrest. “What?”

He flicked the dashboard. Nope, no audio jack. Not even a CD player. No; amidst all the toggles and buttons of the dash was a cassette player. “I don’t have anything to listen to. This thing won’t hook up to the phones, and I don’t have any tapes.”

“Hm.” Taking a long sip of her drink, she mused, “Maybe your dad has some in here?”

“I guess that’d make sense. Take a look around, would you?”

Sure enough, she was right. Tucked away in the glove compartment was a treasure trove: Fleetwood Mac, Eagles, AC/DC, Prince, Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen. “Damn,” she chuckled, “Your dad had good taste.”

Masamune took the copy of Rumors in his fingers, never taking his eyes off the road. The dust was thick under his thumb. “He’d play ‘Back in Black’ when he picked me up from school. It was cool as hell.” With a snap, he pried open the copy of Rumors and popped it into the player. The speakers hummed to life with strumming guitar, Fleetwood Mac echoing. “I know there’s nothing to say, someone has taken my place…” She rested her elbow on the center console, brushing his arm with her as she texted. 

“Guess what?” She murmured. “Mitsunari just got back from Tanzania.”

“Oh shit, really?” How long had it been? Masamune mentally calculated the dates. “I guess it has been two years, huh? The Peace Corps finally turned him loose?”

“Yeah. He’s apparently crashing at Ieyasu’s place—” Masamune barked a laugh, and she tittered, but continued, “—and wants to know if we’re going to head that direction.”

“He’s in Maryland, right?” Fishing out his phone, he checked it. “Yasu didn't tell me about this. Bastard. Well, we get there fast enough, then we can definitely hunker down there for a day or so and celebrate his coming back.”

Classic rock kept them company on the long drive. He didn't mind roadtrips. There was something sacred about them. Forget the American Dream; it was dead. Long live the American Road Trip, a rite of passage for the lost souls from sea to shining sea. Nothing cleared the senses like cranking up the heater on the floorboards and rolling down the window to a blast of autumn air. She let down her hair and it whipped wild in the wind. 

Thank God she was here. Masamune quietly relished her reappearance in his life. She was a gateway to an old world, one with his father alive, one where he still snuck out of the house at night and biked to the 7-Eleven for slurpees at 3a.m. They stopped at a Cracker Barrel for dinner and ordered root beer floats and roasted each other over the annoying ‘jump-the-pegs’ game perched on every table. Though you were supposed to reduce it to one peg, she couldn’t quite manage it. Somehow she kept getting two or three. 

“I got it down to one peg once,” she laughed, shoving it toward him. Masamune swirled it under his hand. 

“I can do it,” he commented. “But that’s because Mitsunari taught me the trick years ago.” He knocked the first peg out of the top of the triangle, moving it elsewhere. “That’s the one that’s gotta be empty. From there on out, there’s a set solution.”

She craned over it, investigating. “What’s the set solution?”

A long, hefty pause lingered between them as he slurped some of his float. 

“Dunno anymore.” He cracked a grin. “I forgot like, eight years ago.”

“Ass! Then you don’t know!” She swatted at his arm and grinned. “Liar!”

“Hey! I was just trying to look cool in front’a you, Kitten, I can’t look like some big dumb stud after all these years—”

“I love how you allow for the possibility that you’re dumb,” she cackled, “but not the possibility that you’re anything other than hot.”

“Am I wrong? Look at me.”

The roll of her eyes was exactly what he wanted. She shoved a biscuit at him over the table. “I think Mark Twain said something like, ‘it’s better to stop talking and appear dumb than open your mouth and remove any doubt’, Masamune.”

He clutched at his chest, but took the biscuit anyway. “You wound me, Kitten.”

As they were paying the bill, she split off and reappeared a minute later, plunking thirty cents onto the cash register and tucking a cinnamon stick into his jacket pocket. “Here.”

“My favorite!” He peeled back the plastic wrapper. “Thanks, Kitkat. You remembered.”

For the first time since they’d seen each other again, her expression evolved to one he’d almost forgotten. He’d only seen it once before. It was a moonlit night back in their senior year, after prom, when they were both lingering in the pool as everyone else passed out drunk. He’d wiped a leaf from her hair and told her she was beautiful, and she’d looked at him like that so long and hard that he wondered if he’d ever known her inner thoughts at all. 

“Of course I remembered,” she answered at last, soft and clarion clear. “I remember all kinds of things about you, Masamune.”