#my friend had it burned on a disc and gave it to me when she found out i was crazy about the second game

[natduskfall]

Forgot i took this screenshot. Dark Core goon my beloved

[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 13

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️This chapter contains: Angst, billy x reader, nervousness, allusions to homophobia, hurt

wc: 6.4k

A/N: Sorry for taking so long. I took a little break because november was a pretty messy month for me. I had complete writer's block, and I am slowly coming back to writing.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->

CHAPTER 13

“Am I interrupting?”

Your eyes snapped open as you turned to look at Robin who walked right into your office with a smirk to her face. You rolled your eyes, turning back to look at your phone with a shake of your head, the male on the other side laughing.

“You know what Buckley, you are.” Eddie said and you saw his smile spreading as he also earned another roll of your eyes. 

“Eddie is just showing me what else needs replacing in my car.”

“Cause you took it to Rick’s all this time, and everything in it is garbage–”

“Don’t insult my car Munson.” You glared at the phone this time and he raised one hand up in defense.

It’s been two weeks since you talked with Eddie… And since then, you two have grown close… Very close. How you didn’t talk to Eddie before? You had no idea. When you all get together at the bar or at someone’s house, you two always end up in your own world. You assumed that you were both trying to catch up on eachother, learning about one another still, and you were surprised each day by how easy and normal it was to talk to him.

“To me, it sounds like you are replacing me.” Robin pouted as she walked over to you to come into frame and glare at Eddie through the camera and the man only smirked at her with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Aw, you’re scared I’m going to steal your best friend status Buckley?”

“That’s never happening.” You said in a deadpan expression which made Eddie pull an offended frown on his eyebrows.

“Seriously? I give you friendly discounts at my shop!” He yelled at you and you couldn’t help but snort at how he tried to sound hurt from it, but it only came out as a comical act.

“You can’t buy my friendship Munson, and even if you handed me a billion dollars, Robin will always be first.” At your words, Robin blew a raspberry towards the phone, throwing a fart sound at Eddie. Robin’s arms wrapped around your waist and she rested her head on your shoulder while looking at Eddie, a grin to her face.

“You wish this was you, huh.” For some reason, those words Robin let out of her mouth gave you a feeling of embarrassment? They just simply made your belly twist in a way that wasn’t comfortable but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

Eddie on the other side shook his head, yet he felt his jaw clenching slightly, which he dismissed immediately. 

“Sure. Anyways, I gotta go, the new brake discs are coming in next week. We really need to put those in at least before you cause an accident.” You rolled your eyes at him and before you could say anything against that, “No comebacks. I am surprised you didn’t die yet.”

“I drive safely.” You retorted, almost offended, but Robin was amused and let out a snort out of her mouth. Your head snapped to look at her with a death glare and she backed away from you with her hands up in the air in defense.

“I’ll believe it when I see it. Talk to you later.”

“Sure– Oh, about the payment–”

“Next month is okay.” You sighed at his words and you shook your head at him.

“I can do a check.” It was his turn to snort.

“No, it’s fine, seriously Peach.” Eddie sucked in his right cheek as he looked at you and his brows twitched slightly when you sent a smile his way. It was still new, this friendship you two have, and it seems he is still a little weirded out that you smile at him so easily. Not that he is any different. 

“Alright, if you insist, I will take advantage of your kindness.” You heard a commotion behind him as he squatted slightly as if ducking and he just yelled at someone before turning back at you.

“I gotta go before these fuckers do something– FUCKING CHRIST, GARETH–!” And then the call ended. You were left laughing at the whole ordeal, putting the phone down to go back to your laptop, only to feel a presence behind you and you remembered your best friend came into the room a few minutes ago. You turned your chair to look at her, and Robin had her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at you.

“Well, I see you’re slowly changing me.” Robin has always been known for over exaggerating things, and this was one of them. You rolled your eyes and turned again to type on your computer.

“I am not Robs.” You defended yourself but it was true you and Eddie had become very close, but it wasn’t as nearly as how you and Robin are. 

“You talk to him everyday, be it because of a TikTok or a Reel, or just simply messaging.” Robin walked towards you and leaned her butt against the edge to rest there as she looked down at you. 

“We just… We clicked. Putting the past behind us.”

“Which still sounds fucking crazy to me. To everyone really– I mean, you two really hated each other.” And you didn’t need a reminder of that. 

“It was very pitiful. We were hurting each other when we could have helped one another. I hurt him and he hurt me, and all for nothing.” Robin nodded at you, and she agreed with you on that. You had told her about what you and Eddie talked about, and you even bared to her how guilty you felt about so many things you said to him. 

Robin explained that everyone’s stories are private, so you didn’t really blame her for not telling you stuff about Eddie’s life, just like she didn’t tell Eddie anything about you.

“I know… I am glad though. You two seem to be enjoying one another’s company so… that’s good.” Robin said sincerely and you smiled up at her. “And what about Billy? How do you think everything will go once they meet?”

“Well, I think they will hit it off instantly.” In all honesty, you didn’t know if that was true. Eddie and Billy had different yet alike personalities in some sense. Aloof, cheeky, yet attentive if needed. It would be the first time you were going to introduce Eddie to him, and Billy only knows Eddie as the friend who sends you memes all the time.

He doesn’t even know his name is Eddie. You will introduce them tomorrow night.

And you were hoping everything turns out okay.

Things with Billy have been…

Normal.

Ever since meeting your friends, your boyfriend has been a little bit weirder than usual. You wanted to have an all together with his friends and yours, so that the two groups would collide and meet, but all you received from your boyfriend was a talk on how his friends are known figures, and they cannot be seen going out at all.

That felt weird in some sense because you distinctly remember them saying something about going out to a club whenever they get a chance to do so. They didn’t look like the type of people that would avoid the public eye, but rather, seek it. Always seeking it.

Today, you and your boyfriend would go to Robin and Steve’s home, get some drinks, spend time with your friends, but sometimes now you just want to be alone with them. Your boyfriend, even if at the beginning was not very friendly with your group, he now seems to want to be included at every gathering.

You didn’t want to be a bitch about it, cause maybe he does like talking to Argyle a lot. But, they can just message each other to get together by themselves, right? No need for Billy to always be on an outing with you, yet, he sticks with you like a leech. 

You wonder how tonight everything will go with Eddie. Hopefully, he is the one that makes your boyfriend finally have some fun inside the group. You’re pretty sure they will get along nicely… hopefully.

You were in the bathroom, throwing the curtain to the side in order to open it as steam floods the entire tiled room. You step out of the tub after turning off the scorching water, just how you like it. Hot showers always help with your nerves, they never miss it. You sigh in contentment only to be struck with the fact that you didn’t bring a towel inside. 

You groaned as your body started shivering slightly as the air hit your wet skin. You didn’t want to yell so much in respect for your neighbors, so you leaned and opened the door, opening your mouth to call out to your boyfriend, only to stop when you heard his muffled voice behind the bedroom door. 

“I told you I don’t want to do it!”

Silence.

“I don’t want to be part of something I don’t see right.”

Silence again. What is he talking about?

“I know it’s for publicity, I know, and I don’t care what the voting polls in social media say, I won’t stand for something I don’t believe is right.”

Polls? Social media?

“Okay, okay, fine. Fine. I will say I stand by it.”

You were blinking, trying to understand what your boyfriend was talking about just now. A publicity stunt? Agree to what? A belief of his? You heard footsteps and immediately closed the door of the bathroom as quietly as possible and you felt your heart beating loudly in your chest. You jumped in your place when he knocked on the door.

“Baby? You okay in there?” Fuck, he can’t know you were eavesdropping.

“Y-Yeah! I was calling you to get me a towel but you weren’t listening to me Billy! I am freezing over here!” You tried to put on that whiny voice he loves when you get a little bit angry at him. You heard him chuckle but wince at your tone.

“Shit honey, I’m sorry. I’ll get it for you!” You heard his steps walk away from the bathroom and you let out the air you were holding in.

Something’s not right.

Something is definitely not right.

You don’t know what it is, but there is just this feeling in your gut that something will happen, that something is not what it seems, that there is this idea in your head you are afraid that is true but you don’t want to believe it. Not from him. Not when you started to feel more and more for him each day.

Only to be starting to wash away the more and more you learn from him.

“Billy!” You yelled again and the door opened completely, revealing a smirking Billy Hargrove on the other side while holding a white towel in hand. 

“You want it?” He aimed to hand it to you, but as soon as you were going to catch it, he snatched it away with his teeth showing. “Come get it.”

And that’s how you end up chasing your stupid boyfriend through the whole apartment, completely naked while he runs around, laughing in delight, towel in hand. 

You didn’t want to believe it.

So when you finally get to dry yourself off, and get some clothes on for tonight is when your nerves start settling in, harder than before. Something in your gut was turning, uncomfortably, nervously, knowing that something was not right, that something was going to happen, that something had been happening all this time that you decided to simply look away from.

You looked at him, at your splendid boyfriend and you still don’t know how he chose someone like you. How he decided it was you the one he was going to risk his fame for. He was choosing a red button-up shirt today, his hair in a small ponytail in the back. You don’t know how you two came to be.

And yet, you still haven’t told him your story. You haven’t told him a few parts of yourself you didn’t feel ready to tell him, but will that time ever come? Why is it so hard to open up to him?

“You ready to go?” Billy asked you as he walked towards you after checking himself in the mirror one last time. You smiled up at him and gave him a nod.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

“You finally made it, Jesus.” Robin greeted you as she opened the door for you, and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s comment. You were late, yes… but it was because Billy took his sweet time always getting ready. You scolded him a few times for it, but he always tells you he has to keep his skincare routine intact. 

“What a greeting.” You heard Billy mutter under his voice as you two walked into the house, music already invading your ears and the chattering of your friends, making your nerves go away a little, only for confusion and disappointment to fill your gut. You turned your head as Robin came back from closing the door behind you both.

“Where’s Eddie?” You asked, and your boyfriend’s head snapped to you and then back at Robin.

“I think he is running late! What, already missing your NEW best friend?” Robin answered with a huff, and you could only giggle at her jealousy, not noticing the storm that was brewing inside your boyfriend’s chest. 

“Quit that Robs.”

“Who’s Eddie?” 

Robin looked at your boyfriend for a second with a confused frown on her face and then back at you. For some reason, there was a turn in your stomach because you realized you never told Billy about Eddie. He just knew there was a friend missing from the group he still hadn’t met yet.

“Um, the last friend you don’t know.” You looked at him and his blue orbs were not very helpful. You couldn’t quite read his eyes as they looked at you, but a twitch in the eyebrow told you he was thinking. 

“Why did she call him your best friend?” And Robin was looking panicked between you and your boyfriend, and you simply smiled at Billy, shaking your head.

“It’s Robin being dramatic.”

“Why did she call him that? I mean–” And you could see the moment Billy’s head clicked, an eyebrow raised up. “Is he the one you’ve been talking to for the past few weeks?”

“Okay, you say we talked, we mostly sent memes to one another.” You tried to defend yourself, but against what? You didn’t do anything wrong. So why do you feel the need to explain yourself?

“Right.” You could see the change in mood in Billy’s body language. This night was already turning in a way that you didn’t expect, or you wanted to avoid. Robin shot you a look with a worried frown and you turned to go into the living room where everyone else was. 

“Billy! My man!” You could hear Argyle yell and god fucking bless Argyle. You saw how he rushed towards you both as Robin walked towards Nancy and whispered into her ear. You knew she was going to tell Nancy about what just happened at the front door with Billy. There is an uneasiness in your throat as Argyle hands you a beer and Billy another. 

“Hi, Argyle.” Billy spoke and you took a sip out of your beer as you felt Billy’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You raised an eyebrow at that, looking at him. Why did he trap you with him? You wanted to go say hi to Steve and Jonathan, but you guessed you could do that in a few minutes.

“I have so much to tell you Billy man, I tried that shampoo and conditioner you recommended and it left my hair perfectly smooth, but curly man!” You couldn’t help but giggle at Argyle’s commentary and Billy followed through, shaking his head at your friend.

“I told you to get that brand but for straight hair. Not curly.” You looked at Argyle’s hair and sure enough, there were some waves at the end of his long hair. Billy smiled but there was a hint of something hidden behind it as he talked to Argyle once more, “Who is this Eddie guy?”

“Ah, my brochacho, we met way back in California, and then I followed him here.” Argyle replied with a genuine smile and Billy for some reason let out a sigh of relief, making you frown in confusion. 

“Oh, that’s nice. You two are close then.” 

“Yeah, very!” You felt the tightness on your waist loosen up, and Billy shot a smile your way, kissing the top of your head. You blinked in confusion and you stepped away to finally go greet Steve and Jonathan who were looking at you with worried faces.

“What was that all about?” Steve asked and you shook your head, taking a long sip out of your beer. There was a pit in your stomach, a nervousness you couldn’t quite describe, a sense of deja vu of some sort.

“I have no clue, but…” You didn’t want to worry your friends with these things going on inside your head. They would question your boyfriend and you don’t want that but at the same time, you want to tell someone about these feelings you’ve been having lately, or the realization of these feelings. 

It’s not like you didn’t notice the drastic changes in Billy over the past months, and it all started when he met your friends, but it got better… Yet, you couldn’t help but notice certain aspects and your feelings started swaying from side to side. A sense of dread, of being afraid to know the truth.

“But?” Jonathan asked and you opened your mouth to then close it once again when the doorbell rang, making your head turn to the direction of the door. You were feeling your heart in your throat, and excitement grew in your stomach.

Nancy was the one who walked to get the door this time, and you looked over at Argyle and Billy talking excitedly. You saw how Argyle was gesturing as he talked, and you saw how your boyfriend laughed at his commentary. Maybe he and Eddie will get along. You were worrying about nothing.

And then Nancy stepped aside to let Eddie walk in. 

You felt some heat coming up on your cheeks, across your body, but you shook it off as the beer kicking in your system. Your eyes scanned his outfit now. Dark jeans, ripped in some parts, a tight Slayer T-Shirt with a jean vest on top. His hair was in a low bun like always, and the stubble was neatly done. 

You wondered what cologne he was using today.

Your mind was snapped back in reality when Eddie approached you, putting the six-pack on the table. He had a warm smile on his face as he flicked your forehead with his middle finger. You winced at the sudden pain, rubbing your skin while glaring up at him.

“What was that for!?” You whined at him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“For making me watch the stupidest movie ever.”

“Did you just call ‘When Harry Met Sally’ stupid!?” You couldn’t help but be slightly upset by that. It was one of your favorites, and you also liked watching Eddie’s movie suggestion, ‘Armageddon’.

“I am not a fan of those kinds of movies sweetheart.” He was looking at you as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, but there was a sly smile in his lips, tugging up, making you smile at him.

“You’re a lying piece of shit. You liked the movie.” He chuckled and shook his head at you, but you knew he liked it. He was just messing with you to get a rise out of you.

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes you are! You loved that cheesy crap, admit it.” You poked his side, which made him chuckle, moving away from you.

“This is still too weird.” You heard Jonathan talk and you lifted your head to ask what he meant only for your waist to suddenly be grabbed, fingers digging into the skin making you wince just slightly. You turned your head to see Billy looking at Eddie with a grin on his face.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” The voice your boyfriend let out was not friendly. It was strained as if it pained him talking right now. Eddie glanced at you for just a second, and you cleared your throat as your nerves tried to get the best of you.

“Right, Billy, this is Eddie.” Eddie gave your boyfriend a forced smile, and you could feel the tension in the air as the light blue eyes clashed with the brown ones. 

“Yeah. You’re Argyle’s boyfriend, right?”

Oh. Oh god. It’s happening again. Eddie’s eyebrow twitched and gave you a questioning look and he could see the confused frown on your face. He looked at his friend and sighed, knowing that Argyle probably made it sound that way. Just like he did last year with you and you mistook it all as well.

“Fucking christ– No. He is just my friend.”

“Oh?” Billy’s eye twitched as he kept looking at Eddie, and you could feel him tugging you closer to him as he kept looking at the dark-haired man. “Then you aren’t dating?”

“No. I am straight.”

And for some reason, you felt the whole air shift. Eddie’s face suddenly fell into a confused frown, and then into an annoyed one instantly, as Billy’s gaze hardened. 

“Right. He is the friend you’ve been messaging all the time?”

Billy’s eyes now landed on you and you looked at him to only have a sinking feeling in your stomach. You felt your throat closing up at his gaze, and you knew. You simply knew what was going on in his mind. Eddie was looking back and forth in between you and Billy, and he could see how your boyfriend’s jaw clenched.

“I– um–” 

“Billy! You promised to help me with the drinks!” You heard Argyle yell from the kitchen and Billy groaned as he closed his eyes in annoyance. You felt a slight grip on your waist again and then he let go of you, almost unwillingly, giving Eddie one last look before he left. You were staring at his retreating back as he headed to the kitchen, with a confused frown on your face.

“He’s… charming.” Eddie said with not an ounce of likeness in his tone, almost in disgust. He had a bad feeling in his stomach, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. He didn’t want to alarm you in any way, but you looked already confused and nervous. He didn’t want to add more wood to the fire.

“I– I need a smoke.” You stated and immediately rushed out to the backyard, fumbling with the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of your purse. What was going on? Why did Billy’s demeanor change so suddenly? You never told him it was Eddie the one you were messaging, but did it really matter?

You put the cigarette in your mouth, and now you were fumbling to get the lighter out, but you couldn’t find it. Billy doesn’t like it when you smoke, but he smokes as well. You don’t understand that train of thought, but you don't care right now. A flame appeared in front of you from a red lighter and you knew who it was without even looking at him. You leaned forward and lit the cigarette, taking a long puff.

“You look nervous.” Eddie lit his own stick, mimicking the long puff like you did, and you both let out the smoke out of your lungs.

“I just… don’t understand why he is being… this possessive?”

“Well, he might be overwhelmed by how much more of a man I am.” He joked and you snorted, shaking your head at him. He gave you a small grin and took another puff of his cigarette. “You also look pretty today, people tend to become protective when their partner shines.”

You were taken aback by his response. Did you hear him right?

“Oh Munson thinks I am pretty.” You joked, taking another swig of your stick, turning to look at him, but he wasn’t laughing as he looked to the distance.

“No denying there.”

Thump.

He was just being friendly. Steve complimented you before, Nancy did too, so it should be fine. He was just being a nice friend, telling you that you look nice tonight, that is all. So why do you feel your hands sweating?

“Uh–”

“Are you not going to say I look pretty too? C’mon, I even put a red shirt on today, not a black one.” He chuckled to lose the tension but inside, Eddie was a little nervous. The compliment slipped out of his tongue with ease, too much ease. You giggled, the tension going away, and shook your head at him.

“The red and the black go hand in hand with you, it’s not new.” 

“What do you want me to wear? A pink shirt? A baby blue crop top?” You exploded with laughter at the image that came to your head, making him face you with a smile to his face.

“With the care bears at the front!” At that, he too let out a laugh. It was easy being with Eddie, carefree, natural even. You were still amazed by that fact, and cannot even remember how you two disliked each other before. 

You both smoked your cigarettes, sharing jokes with one another, laughing, making the nervousness in your belly leave to a faraway place.

“It’s crazy to think I almost beat the shit out of you out here and now we are laughing together.” You put the cigarette out in the small ashtray that was on the garden table and Eddie followed suit with a chuckle.

“You? Beating the shit out of me? Are you sure about that Peach?” He stood in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest as he inspected you with a squint of his eyes. You copied his stance, and his eyes diverted for a second to your cleavage and went back up to your eyes.

“You think I can’t?” He barked out a laugh at that.

“Sweetheart, if I wanted to, I could pin you to the floor using only one hand.”

And oh, that didn’t cause the reaction you thought it would. It was friendly, it was him telling you he is stronger than you… Yet your stomach did a flip at the thought. He could definitely pin you down, and you know that because of his height and the arms that are big and filled with tattoos. 

He looked at you when you didn’t answer him back, and he noticed the look your face had as if processing a thought, and he felt a shockwave run down his spine. His thoughts were cut off when he sensed a pair of eyes looking his way, and he raised his head up to see Billy glaring at him as he leaned over the doorframe of the sliding doors with his arms crossed over his chest.

You blinked and quickly turned around to see your boyfriend with a stern look on his face. Now you realize how fast your heart was beating into your chest, and now you felt the nervousness creep up on you again as you stared at Billy’s piercing gaze.

“Billy–”

“Can I talk to you for a second? Privately?”

You slowly nodded at that, giving Eddie one look telling him sorry you’re leaving, and turned to go with Billy. He didn’t grab you or hold your hand, simply turned away, guiding you toward the kitchen. You could sense your friend’s eyes following you as you walked into the kitchen, Billy closing the door behind you.

“Um… is everything okay?” 

“You think everything is fucking okay?”

You were stunned at his aggressiveness, never had heard him this way before. You didn’t know what could have possibly happened tonight, but you might have just a slight idea of what and why.

“What is wrong with you?”

“You fucked him, didn’t you?”

And your mouth fell agape at that. Did you hear him right?

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“For fuck sake, you fucked him, didn’t you?”

So you did hear right. Was he talking about Eddie? Why would he come up with that conclusion? What made him believe such a thing between you two?

“I was hoping I heard wrong William, what the fuck are you talking about?” Billy only scoffed with a fake smile on his lips as he leaned against the counter.

“Don’t you dare lie to me! I know you fucked him. That is not just a friend, calling you 'sweetheart'? Giggling together like middle schoolers?”

Was he serious right now? You were feeling your heart breaking, thrumming in your chest in an aggressive manner, and you wanted to run away, you did, but you had to face him. You had to talk to him, once and for all.

“He is my friend! I act that way with Steve, Jonathan!”

“Yeah, well, they’re gay! I don’t care about them!” You could hear the anger in his voice, the way the vein in his forehead was popping out. Your throat was trying to close as a lump was beginning to form, but you weren’t going to back down from this.

“What about Argyle!? He is straight and my friend!” You yelled back at him and he ran a hand through his hair as his nostrils started flaring up from anger.

“I don’t buy for a second he is straight. He is all over me, all the time.”

And the reality of it all hits you like a brick to the face. You remained quiet for a second, feeling your past months with him slip away from your fingers. The image you had of him had been tainted for a while, but this completely smeared the picture.

“And is there a problem if he is?”

And that made Billy look at you, defying you to keep going, almost warning you to shut up, but no… not with this. You liked Billy. You really did.

“What are you saying–”

“You do know that I’m bisexual, right?”

And silence fell in the kitchen. And you saw it. You saw how his eyes turned from anger to complete confusion, to then frown as he looked at you. It was your turn now to scoff, tears filling your eyes as you started pacing around the kitchen, trying to gather your thoughts.

“You…” He couldn’t even speak, and you didn’t want him to. He shouldn’t speak now.

“I thought I was fucking wrong, I seriously didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to believe that my boyfriend… that my boyfriend is–” You cannot even say the word. You can’t. You choked on your own sob as you covered your mouth with your hand. Billy’s face softened and he walked towards you, trying to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Baby–”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You swung his hand away with the back of yours and you stepped away, your face displaying the rage that your heart wanted to let out. “Let me ask you a fucking question, Billy. Are you for or against same-sex couples adopting?” 

And he realized it. You saw how his face turned into an angry one again, his eyes squinting at you as he remembered earlier today.

“You eavesdropped.” 

“You bet the fuck I did. And you, Billy Hargrove, are a homophobic asshole.” 

Silence. 

It was like a knife. Those words coming out of your mouth were stabbing you more than they stabbed him. You should have realized it when some of the dark jokes he and his friends did involved… you can’t even think about it. How could he? Why?

“Just because I do not share the same ideals, doesn’t make me homophobic. If I were, I wouldn’t be able to even talk to your friends for fuck sake!” He defended himself but what was the point? There wasn’t any, your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it really couldn’t. You could feel the tears sliding down your cheeks, shaking your head at him, taking a step back from him.

“I want you to leave.” Your words came out like venom, and he frowned at you, shaking his head.

“If I leave, you are coming with me, we need to talk this out–”

“There is nothing to talk about! Fucking leave!” Your voice was loud, his voice was loud, and everything was static around you, your vision clouding as he came close to you once more, trying to get hold of your hands.

“Baby, baby, come on, don’t be like that… We’ll go home and we’ll talk about this–” His voice sounded desperate now, and your tears were still running down your cheeks, your mind shutting him out completely as you shook your head again, desperate for him to leave. You didn’t want him near you. You were disgusted, completely disgusted.

“N-No!” Billy’s face crumbled into a stern look once more and he quickly got hold of your bicep in a tight grip, snapping you back into reality as he glared down at you.

“I am not leaving you alone here, with him. So if I leave, you are coming with me.” You tried to yank your arm away from his grip but he kept his hand tight on your arm, and you were feeling his digits digging more and more onto your skin, making your fear grow at each second.

“Let go of me Billy!” You tried again only to be pulled against him and you felt as if your heart were in your throat, his touch completely burning you, wanting it away from you. He wasn’t physical, never, and this is the first time he ever touched you in this way. 

“Please sweets, listen to me!” He was desperate for you, trying to get you to talk to him but you shook your head again and as he tried to move you once more, he felt the back of his shirt be yanked harshly, making him let go of your arm as he stumbled backward.

“What the actual fuck do you think you are doing?” 

Your eyes widened as you saw a broad back stepping before you, and the smell of wooden cologne immediately invaded your nostrils. You rubbed onto your arm as you straightened up to take a step to the side to see Billy looking at Eddie with a glare in his eyes.

“This doesn’t concern you. It involves me, and my girlfriend.” 

“From what I heard it seems she doesn’t hold that title anymore.” Eddie was almost snarling at Billy, completely blocking him from you in a defensive stance. Billy’s eyes caught yours, shaking his head.

“You– You’re still my girl, right?”

You felt the lump in your throat again, memories of the good times you spent with him flashing in front of your eyes. Memories that made you want to go around Eddie to get to him and hug him and kiss him. But then you saw your friends, looking at the scene at the doorway. Your friends. The ones who wouldn’t hurt you, and if they did, never intentionally.

And even if your heart breaks, even if your body trembles with need of him, with the need of his lips, with the need of his eyes on you…

You slowly shook your head at him.

“Bye Billy.” 

The room fell silent, and you could see Billy’s eyes filled with tears as he looked at you. What the both of you had was genuine, and it was growing to something even more beautiful, but this is not something you can accept from him. Ever. No matter if he tells you he can change because an ideal never changes that easily.

But his saddened frown turned into a sour one, rage filling his features as his gaze turned to Eddie and then back at you.

“You didn’t answer my first question, but I guess it was true then? You remain friends with guys you fuck darling?”

Your heart shattered at his coldness, at him insulting you this way, almost as if he were calling you ‘slut’ in a very indirect way. A tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at him with shock filled eyes. 

And it all happened too quickly. Suddenly Billy was face to face with Eddie, as the dark haired man gripped the front of his shirt while he glared down at your now ex-boyfriend. Ex. Another ex.

“Get the fuck out or I will ruin your only source of income pretty boy.” Eddie growled at Billy and pushed him away roughly, making Billy tumble slightly, almost hitting the counter behind him. 

His eyes searched for yours one last time, and you could see the hurt in them, reflecting your own. You didn’t doubt his caring for you, not even a second. It was genuine, all of it, but you cannot forgive him for what he did, and does for publicity. You looked away from him and you heard him sigh, followed by steps that were going towards the doorway where all your friends moved away from so he could go through.

“I’ll get my manager to pick my things up from your house. He’ll return yours.”

More steps. More. The front door opening. And then, a slam.

And you broke down.

You were hurt, disgusted, in pain, feeling helpless because of this situation that couldn’t be fixed now. Never. No matter if you have feelings for him, if you will miss the days and nights spent with him. Tears ran down your cheeks as you sobbed into your hands, two arms wrapping around you as a lavender scent filled your nostrils.

Robin was cooing at you, rubbing your head, holding you like a baby to her chest. Your hands gripped her shirt as you cried onto it. Yes… Even if you are hurting you would never choose someone that hates your friends for their orientation. 

You wouldn’t choose them over Robin who is holding you tenderly and has held you this way many times before. You will hurt. You will cry. You will need time alone and space to gather and piece yourself back together again.

But they will all help you through it. Even Eddie who is behind Robin with a frown in his face, Steve next to him with the same look but his hand was on Eddie’s shoulder, pressing on it. 

It will be okay.

End of Chapter 13

<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->

A/N: Reblogs always help more than likes. Please support artists that way!

Taglist is closed! I will start deleting people that do not interact with my posts.

Taglist: @katethetank @seatnights @oliskitten @bebe07011 @seventhlevelofhell @babez-a-licious @arsenicred @bl4ckt00thgr1n @harrysgothicbitch @emma77645 @fictionalcomforts @hellv1ra @sarcastically-defensive17 @lodeddiperrodrick @corrodedcoffincumslut @peea90 @sidthedollface22 @elegantkoalapuppy-blog @ghost-proofbaby @take-everything-you-can @nope-thanks

[itsthedoodle]

Starry Eyes Sparking Up My Darkest Night

Summary: We had danced, all of us together. And when the night had shifted toward dawn and the music became soft and honeyed, I had let Rhys take me in his arms and dance with me, slowly, until the other guests had left, until the gold disc of the sun gilded Velaris.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: none

Read on AO3

@officialfeysandweek2023

Day 1: Night Triumphant & Stars Eternal

Here's my second humble offering for Feysand Week 🩵

“I am… very glad I met you, Feyre.”

I blinked away the burning in my eyes. “Come on,” I said, tugging on his hand, “Let’s go join the dance.”

I felt Rhys move behind me, looking half dazed, and wondered if he was as affected as I was. My heart was racing, beating a rhythm unlike anything I’d felt before, my mind aware that this was uncharted territory. I’d seen the look in his eyes, and I knew it matched the one in mine. Rhys and I had been playing this game, counting the steps of this dangerous dance for quite a while now, and as natural as everything with him felt, as natural as being around him was, I couldn’t forget that the circumstances that led me here were not easy.

Don’t think about it, I told myself. Turn it all off.

I reached the middle of the crowd and stopped, turning to face Rhys. He was so beautiful, breathtakingly so, the stardust glowing on his lips mocking me, almost pulling me in and making me reckless enough to want to forget everything and everyone around us and just kiss him, just get lost in him. Rhys pulled me closer and placed his hands on my lower back, making my skin tingle. I wrapped my arms around his neck and followed his lead as he started moving.

We danced, and danced, and danced, until Cassian pulled me away from Rhys for a dance, joking about his unwillingness to share. The fire in Rhys’s eyes wasn’t something I was ready to address. I wasn’t blind to his feelings, nor my own growing ones, but I didn't know if I would ever be ready for all of its implications. 

“I've never seen him so happy.” Cassian’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts as he twirled me around, and a joyous sound escaped my throat. “He has had moments of happiness in his five hundred years of course, but never like this.” Cassian gave me a pointed look. “You do know it’s because of you, don’t you?”

I cleared my throat, not ready to unpack what he had just said and all that it meant, and asked him about our visit to Windhaven the next day. Cassian had been advocating for the Illyrian females for centuries, but change in a war camp came slow.

We danced for a while longer, until Cassian looked behind me to find Mor, who was smiling brightly. “Your time is up,” she said, pulling me away from him. 

I rose on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek, thankful for him and the friendship and understanding he had so selflessly offered me from the moment we’d met.

I danced with Mor, and then I danced with Azriel, and marveled at how fast they had managed to worm their way into the deepest crevices of my heart. My friends, who had pulled me out of the darkness. My High Lord, who had shown me that I mattered, that my feelings mattered, that my trauma was valid, who had given me everything in the most open and selfless way and had never expected anything in return.

I looked at Rhys, marveling at the sound of his joyous laughter, the starlight in his eyes as he celebrated and drank and danced with his friends, the way he looked so free despite carrying the weight of his court on his shoulders and everything he had done to keep his people safe.

He had given every part of himself to keep his people safe. I wondered if they knew how lucky they were, if they knew he would do it all again in a heartbeat if he had to.

He chose that moment to look at me, and the smirk he had seconds before melted into a smile so bright and genuine that my breath whooshed out of my chest with a strength that nearly knocked off my feet. He was in front of me in two strides, his long legs effortlessly closing the space between us, and I gave him a smile as I wrapped my arms around his neck, his own finding their place on my lower back, as if they had always belonged there.

“You promised me a whole night of dancing.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a smirk. “It’s not my fault everyone wants to bask in your glow, Feyre darling.”

I smiled and rested my head on his chest, and he kissed the top of my head softly. “It’s you people want to be around, Rhys. Not me.”

“Someday,” he said, his hand drawing circles on my back, “I’ll make you see how bright you are. I wish you could see yourself right now, and the way you outshine every star tonight.”

My heart stuttered, and I willed the tears away. Looking up at him, I reached out and caressed his mental shields. Rhys tilted his head curiously and lowered them slightly, letting me in. I looked around the fortress of his mind, seeing the world through his eyes, Mor laughing and dancing with Cassian and Az in the corner, the three of them carefree and happy.

Rhys mentally pointed closer, right in front of him, and I saw myself covered in stardust, the look on my face one I didn’t have the words to describe. There was a certain glow in my eyes as I looked up at Rhys, a softness to my smile that I hadn’t seen in a very long time. Rhys’ mental fortress was unguarded, every feeling on display as I made myself familiar with the deepest corners of his beautiful, brilliant mind. There was adoration, admiration, gratefulness, and a warmth to deeper feelings I refused to analyze out of respect. He had had his privacy taken from him for a very long time, and I would never dream of taking advantage of the free pass he had given me.

I slowly walked out and back into my own mind, and the smile he gave me was one I desperately wanted to paint.A smile brighter than the sun, eyes deeper than night. Night triumphant seemed like a fitting name.

“I am very happy to have you in my life,” I offered, because that was the simple truth, because I had never known anything with more certainty than the joy that Rhys’ presence had brought into my life. I had blinked, and without me realizing it, Rhys had become my best friend, had become the one person I could always count on without fear of being judged. My heart craved even more of Rhys and I wrestled against the hunger in my mind every day.

Rhys bent down and kissed my forehead, gently, as we swayed to the soft music. There was no rush to the dance, no steps to follow. There was just us, the stars, our friends, the people, and my home. Velaris was home, and so was the male holding me like I was going to disappear. 

“Rhys?”

“Hm?” he mumbled, not bothering to move his head from where it was resting on top of my head.

“Thank you for everything.”

I felt him smile and he continued rubbing circles on my back. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“No, I mean-” I said, trying to find the right words. “Thank you for believing in me when no one else would. Thank you for sharing your family with me, and your city, and your home. Thank you for making sure I always have a reason to get out of bed in the morning and look forward to what the day brings.”

With my head resting on his chest the way it was, I could feel the exact moment his breath caught in his throat. “None of that would have been possible without you,” he said, pulling my face away from his chest and looking at me intently. “None of that would have been possible without your persistence, cleverness, and kindness. I’ve always loved this night, and the journey the stars make.” He looked up at the stars still flying overhead, then down at me again. “But you, you are by far the most precious one of them.”

I didn’t stop the burning in my eyes this time, the tears running free down my cheeks, trailing a path down the stardust on my face. Rhys swept his thumbs over my cheeks, wiping my tears away, like he had done every single time since the day we had met. I knew the line we were walking was a very dangerous one, and I could not afford to compromise my heart so soon again, but there was something about him that brought all my walls tumbling down, that drew me to him so thoroughly that I could hardly breathe half the time he was near.

We danced for what could have been minutes, or hours, or days—we didn’t keep track. Rhys didn’t let me go, and neither did I. The guests bid us goodnight, Mor, Cassian and Azriel retired for the night, yet Rhys and I never stopped dancing, never stopped looking at each other and basking in the glow of whatever we were, whatever was happening. As the dawn broke, and the sun illuminated the stardust on his skin, giving him an ethereal glow, I put my hands around his face and brought it close to mine, resting his forehead against mine.

“To the stars who listen, Rhys.”

“And the dreams that are answered, Feyre.”

[photogirl894]

"Sun and Rain Part 2: Age of the Empire"

Chapter 15

"You've got this"

A "Bad Batch" fanfic!

Pairing: Hunter x fem OC, Echo (more best friend pairing)

A/N: I will give a heads up that this one does switch between two simultaneous events later on in the chapter, hopefully it doesn't get too confusing. This one's gonna be a little heavy 😅 but it's also a longer chapter to make up for the wait!

Also a huge thanks to @l-lend for her help with some things in this chapter, especially involving Rina! You're the best!! 🥰

Taglist: @the-sad-batch , @nimata-beroya , @intrepidmare , @cole-kenxbi , @tech-aficionado , @ladykatakuri , @d1n0-dan , @sammi9498 , @darthzero22 , @scarlettrose9901 , @tech-deck , @thebadbatchscyare , @chxpsi , @ilikemymendarkandfictional , @4pplecider , @locitapurplepink , @l-lend , @nekotaetae , @eternalwaffle , @merkitty49 , @avathebestx

《 Chapter 14

》 Chapter 16

All chapters (Part 2) (Part 1)

Explanation: Hunter offers some advice to Rina and Echo discovers one of the Koriena Force ladies has a secret.

Inside the Aurora, Kida insisted that Kimber get into a bath, which surprised Kimber since she was so used to being on a small shuttle all the time that the idea of there being a bathtub on a ship was a shock at first. Then she remembered this technically was a leisure transport, so then it made sense. Kida said she had something that would help with her bodily pains and it would only work in a hot bath, so Kimber listened to the expert and started getting undressed behind a screen, feeling glad she had chosen to wear her civvie clothes. As the tub filled up, Kida also handed her a long silk robe to put on when she was done.

“Be careful, Kida, she might get pregnant if you see her naked,” she heard Rina say, snickering.

Kimber laughed herself and she heard Kida laugh, too. “Poor Wrecker and Omega…,” she said as she pulled her dress off. “I’ll be surprised if Hunter or even Tech do explain all of that to them.”

“Honestly, the way they thought pregnancy works was the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time. If that’s how it worked, I would have several children by now,” commented Kida.

“I would call you a name right now, but I’m gonna be nice,” said Rina.

Kimber walked out from behind the screen garbed in the robe right then.

“What name?” Kida asked Rina.

Rina took a drag of sweetblossom from her mod and then replied, “Starts with a ‘W’ and rhymes with ‘bore’.”

The Pantoran’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “You little wretch!” she cried through a chuckle, giving Rina a shove.

“Wrong word, but nice try,” Rina teased her, earning her a jab in the side from Kida.

Kimber was standing by the side of the big tub, laughing at their playfulness. While they continued their shoving match and were distracted, she took the opportunity to disrobe and climb into the tub, sinking herself into the hot water. It slightly burned at first, but then it felt soothing to her aching muscles.

Once Kida saw Kimber was in the tub, she switched the water off and then went over to a nearby cupboard. “I’m going to introduce something to you of my own invention,” she declared, moving things around in the cupboard.

“For someone who prides herself as an expert in fashion, some of the inventions you’ve shown me haven’t exactly coincided with your area of expertise,” Kimber commented.

“The eye color discs certainly could pass as fashion,” Kida retorted, “but I also pride myself as an expert in leisure…and that’s where this comes in.” She fished out a small jar full of what appeared to be small, clear, light blue rocks. She came over to the tub and gave the jar a shake. “These…are bacta salts,” she said. “Bacta that’s been refined into a solid salt form that dissolve in warm water and help soothe aches and pains rather than helping heal full injuries.”

“Are you serious?” Kimber asked, bemused. “You actually created that?”

“I’ve got a more scientific mind than I let on,” Kida admitted as she started pouring some of the salts into the water, making the water turn a faint blue.

A few seconds passed and Kimber started feeling a cool, soothing sensation throughout almost her entire body, dulling the aches she had felt not that long ago. “It’s very fast-acting!” she exclaimed.

“That’s the power of bacta,” said Rina. Then she sat down on a chair nearby and asked Kimber, “So who gave you the beating? Did you and lover boy go at it too hard?”

“Rina Caska!” Kimber cried out, mortified. Naturally, Kida was giggling next to her and Kimber lightly splashed her with water, making her squeal in surprise. “That is not what happened. We had a run-in with some Zygerrians.” Kimber decided to downplay the story a little bit so she didn’t worry the girls.

“Ugh, those creatures are terrible,” spat Kida.

Right then, Irys came into the room, carrying little Kori in one arm and holding a bottle in the baby’s mouth with the other, saying as she entered, “Didn’t you mention once that a Zygerrian tried to buy you?”

Kimber let her head fall back against the back of the tub. “Yes…and somehow, we ran into that very same one in Old Ord Mantell City.”

“You're kidding. What, was he following you or something?” inquired Rina.

“No, it was pure coincidence,” Kimber answered, relaxing a bit more as the bacta salts really started taking effect on her aching muscles.

Then Kida told her, “I would say soak in the bath for a little while and let the salts do their work. You’ll feel back to normal in no time.”

“Much appreciated, Kida,” said Kimber.

Then Kida pointed at Rina and declared, “By the way, once Irys is finished with him, you’re putting Kori down for his nap.”

Rina grumbled quietly for a second before relenting with a shrug and saying, “That’s fair.”

After that, Kida brought up that, since their time together with Kimber had been cut short back on Pantora, they hadn’t heard about any of Kimber’s adventures with the Bad Batch from before then. Humoring them, Kimber regaled them with stories of her many missions with the Clones from the months prior to Order 66 while she laid in the tub and even afterwards when she was feeling physically better and back in her clothes. It was a nice distraction to keep her from worrying too much about her boys on their current mission.

One rotation had passed until the Bad Batch returned to Ord Mantell. It was nighttime on the planet when they landed, so they figured that Kimber and the girls would most likely be resting. Hunter at least thought they should head to Cid’s and see if she was there to at least inform her of the outcome of their mission…which sadly they had failed. Thanks to a pair of rude and meddling sisters who happened to be at the facility and after the same target as them. He and Echo would go and talk to Cid and he told Wrecker, Tech and Omega that they should just stay on the ship and get some rest. As Hunter and Echo walked off the ship and made their way to Cid’s, Hunter couldn’t help but look off in the direction of the Aurora, knowing Kimber was on the ship, and he couldn’t help but hope that she was doing better.

Cid was indeed in her office at the parlor and the meeting with her wasn’t exactly pleasant. She wasn’t happy that they’d botched the job and even went so far as to scold them for “not being better than two regular girls” when it came to getting the intel she’d sent them to get. While she was displeased with them, she was gracious enough to say they could make it up to her with another job eventually, but she was tired and didn’t have anything for them at the current moment. Shortly after that, she abruptly ushered them from her office.

“Do we really want to keep working for her, Hunter?” Echo asked, annoyed, with a roll of his eyes.

Hunter sighed. “Believe me, I’m not keen on it either, but it’s the best option we’ve got,” he replied.

Echo shook his head, not entirely content with that answer, but also not in the mood to argue.

As the two of them came out from the back hallway, they were surprised to see a familiar violet-haired woman sitting at the bar with a cup and a bottle in front of her. She hadn’t been there when they first came to the parlor a few minutes prior.

She gave them a half-hearted grin. “Well, look who it is. Thought I sensed you two here,” she stated, seemingly feigning gladness at seeing them.

Right away, Hunter could sense that something was troubling her. Not only just from his enhanced senses, but just from the look on her face and the fact that she had an alcoholic drink in front of her. Something wasn’t right.

“Echo, why don’t you go on back to the ship?” he said to his companion.

Echo gave him a nod and walked away towards the door, giving Rina a light touch on the shoulder as he passed by.

Once Echo was gone, Rina asked Hunter as she poured another drink into the glass, “You up for a drink, Sarge?”

Taking a seat next to her, he answered, “Why not?”

Using the Force, Rina summoned a second cup from one of the back shelves and placed it on the bar in front of the Sergeant before pouring a drink from the bottle into it.

“What are you doing here so late?” he asked her before taking a sip of the drink.

Rina downed her glass in one gulp and told him, “I needed a drink…and despite the Aurora being a leisure ship, it wasn’t stocked with any of the good booze, so I came here.” Then she flashed him another half grin. "Boss Lady’s doing much better, by the way. Kida had some stuff that helped with her pain."

“I’m glad,” he said.

“She told us about some of your guys’ missions you went on after we left you on Toydaria months ago,” she went on. “You guys sure got into some crazy shenanigans.”

“I wouldn’t call them that, but yeah, we got some interesting missions from time to time,” he replied. There was still something uneasy in the air between him and Rina. He got the feeling she was trying to hide something, given the more stoic than normal expression on her face and her quickness to talk about something other than herself. He watched her casually pour herself another drink and then down it as quickly as the last, shaking her head afterwards and gasping lightly from the burn of the alcohol. “Rina...why are you really here?” he then asked her.

“Can’t a girl just have a drink without having a reason?” she asked, already pouring more alcohol in her cup.

As she threw her head back and swallowed another glass of the drink, he commented, “When that girl has downed three full drinks in only a couple minutes, it gives the impression there is a reason and she’s got something on her mind.”

He heard her heart rate pick up a touch as she responded, “I just like to drink, okay? I’ve got a problem, I know.” That alone indicated that he was onto her and she was trying to cover herself in a panic.

“What don’t you want to tell me?” he inquired calmly.

She threw back yet another drink and slammed the cup down on the bar. “Nothing, I’m fine!” she blurted out.

Hunter, though slightly taken aback, wanted to keep pressing her, knowing she was hiding something, but then he stopped himself. He knew he had a bad habit of doing this sometimes when he wanted to help someone. This had happened when they’d gotten Kimber back after she’d been captured on Alderaan and he could tell she wasn’t telling all of them the whole truth. He had kept pressing her and eventually, she did tell him the truth…but then Crosshair had chastised him about pressuring Kimber when she wanted him to leave well enough alone. The guilt from that was something he still carried with him, even if he never talked about it.

Instead, he finished his drink, set the cup down and stood up from his chair. "All right," he told her. Then he laid a hand on her shoulder. "Just know this, Rina: whatever it is that's bothering you, you don't have to go through it alone. If you can't tell me, then at least talk to Kimber. I know she'll help you." With that being said, he started walking away.

"I can't tell her."

He stopped in his tracks.

"I…I messed up…and I let her down, Hunter."

She didn't call him "Sarge" or "lover boy"...which meant whatever she was about to tell him was possibly worse than what he thought. He turned around to look at her, but she kept her gaze on the cup in front of her. He moved to her other side and sat in the other seat beside her. For a moment, he said nothing, waiting for her to speak, but she seemed to be battling herself on whether or not she should say anything.

“What happened?” he asked gently.

Rina heaved a heavy, dejected sigh and hung her head. “She left me in charge of the girls while she’s been with you guys…and I royally screwed up. We thought we’d be safer off Pantora, but as we were about to leave, the Imperial troopers caught up to us. They went after Lex because the police recognized her from the chase with Fennec Shand. They grabbed us and tried to take her…and that was when everything went south.”

Meanwhile, Echo continued on through Ord Mantell cautiously, since he was out in the middle of a seedy city at night. He wouldn’t have been surprised if there were some questionable characters out and about at that time lurking in the alleyways and such. His good hand hovered above his blaster just in case he had to be ready.

Luckily, he made it to the spaceport without any trouble. He was just about to get to the ship when he heard a faint sound not too far away. It sounded like a woman…crying. Concerned as well as curious, he walked in the direction of the crying. Whoever it was sounded like they were in pain. The crying seemed to be coming from the direction of the Aurora, which made Echo even more worried. Soon, he came around a corner and could hear the crying more clearly. The Aurora was docked and it seemed like the lights inside were off. He peeked around some cargo crates that were in the port and he saw the form of Lex on her knees, doubled over and sobbing. His panic spiked upon seeing her, fearing something terrible had happened.

“Lex, what’s wrong?” he asked urgently, stepping forward.

Lex’s head shot up and she gasped, having not heard Echo approach. She locked eyes with him for but a couple seconds before suddenly jumping to her feet and running away from him, startling him.

“Hey, wait!” he called out, going after her and wondering why she was running away.

Luckily, he was fast and was quick to catch up with her. Though, it wasn’t entirely easy because she herself was pretty fast, too. He managed to get right behind her in another lit alleyway.

“Lex, wait, stop!” he cried, reaching out and grabbing her gloved left hand.

As his hand grasped hers and he went to pull back to stop her, the full arm glove she wore slid down and slipped right off of her arm. She halted in her tracks, whipping around with a gasp and a terrified look in her eyes.

“No!” she cried, but it was already too late.

Echo held the leather glove loosely in his hand and his jaw fell at what he now saw. “Lex…!” he gasped.

Her arm that had been previously covered by the glove…was made of metal.

She clutched her now cybernetic arm against her chest and turned her back on him. “Karabast! You weren't supposed to see that,” she stated, her voice quivering, before moving like she was going to dart off again.

“Please, don’t run from me,” he pleaded, taking her hand.

Lex stopped and didn’t try to fight against him, her will too weakened in her despaired state. Her head dropped and her teeth clenched hard, trying to keep herself from weeping again. She couldn’t believe she’d been caught and by Echo, of all people….

Cautiously, he released his grip on her and moved around in front of her, taking in the new sight of her with a mechanical arm. His own metal arm very slightly twitched, painfully remembering how he’d come to get his. He now feared what he was about to hear from her on how she suddenly came to have one, too.

“Lex...what happened to you?” he asked, his voice soft yet full of worry.

She knew there was no getting out of this. Echo had seen her arm already and learned her secret. Plus, she knew he was a good and decent man. She supposed he could be trusted with the truth.

“It was my fault,” she said sadly.

Echo carefully led her over to a nearby bench in the alley and urged her to sit down, taking a place next to her. He said nothing, but silently indicated to her with his expression that he was willing to patiently listen to her.

Then she went on to explain, “The Empire was coming after us on Pantora, specifically me because of my involvement in the police chase, and they had us pinned down. I thought I’d found a way to get us away from them. I had been experimenting with an explosive some time before; one of my own design and I thought I could use it. I had suggested using it against the Imperials before we fled the Firestar estate, but Rina thought it was a bad idea to use it without properly testing it. I was...overconfident and assured her it would be fine. She tried to warn me and I didn't listen. When we couldn’t get away from the soldiers, I got desperate. I went to activate it...and the countdown short-circuited, making it go off before I could even lob it.”

Echo’s breath hitched in shock, imagining the pain she had to have experienced in such a situation and knowing full well what it felt like to be caught in an explosion.

She inhaled shakily. "I'm lucky to even be alive," she said. "Irys happened to know of someone in another nearby system who could help me and they gave me a new mechanical arm." She looked down at her robotic hand contemplatively, flexing the fingers in and out. "I didn't want Kimber or any of you guys to know because I didn't want anyone to worry or judge me," she then told him. After that, Lex curled her metal fingers into a fist and slammed it down onto the bench beside her, making the pain in her shoulder from it flare up, and she sharply sucked in through gritted teeth. "I'm such an idiot! I’m the weapons specialist, for stars’ sake! I should’ve known better!" she exclaimed in angry frustration.

"You're not an idiot," Echo countered, "and no one's going to judge you. You made a mistake. We all do."

"But this mistake could've cost me my life and it put my friends...my family in danger. I even endangered Kida's son! The girls and the baby are all I have," she said back.

Calmly, he tried assuring her, "They're all okay and that's what matters. Though, sometimes that's what happens when you take risks."

In reply, she just sighed and put her head in her hands. "I was stupid...and I hate this thing!" she cried, pulling back and making a fist with her metal hand again.

Echo knew all too well the aggravation Lex was experiencing and he couldn't help but glance down at his scomp arm, as well. "That happened to me, too, you know," he said as he then held up his scomp, hoping to maybe help her feel better somewhat. "I lost my limbs in an explosion, as well."

Her head turned to look at him. "You...you did?" she asked.

He nodded before looking back down at his arm. "I was reckless and tried to get to a shuttle on a rescue mission at the Citadel, a turret blew it up and I was caught in the middle of it," he explained, the faintest memory of the explosion in the back of his mind. "Even though all my cybernetic parts were given to me by the Techno Union who captured me afterwards, I've been able to manage with them." Then he returned his steadfast gaze to her and stated, "This is something you can bounce back from, trust me."

However, she surprised him by frowning, turning away and responding, discouraged, "That's easy for you to say. You're a Clone soldier. You're supposed to be able to bounce back from things easier than other people."

Though, he didn't seem too put off by what she said and just said back "I didn't, though...I just hide it well."

Having expected him to snap back at her, Lex faced Echo again with a perplexed look, a bit surprised by his gentle and honest reply.

"Just because we Clones are bred solely to be soldiers doesn't mean we're not still human," he told her.

She swallowed a little, now feeling guilty about what she'd said to him. "I'm sorry, Echo. I didn't mean…," she started to apologize.

"I know you didn't," he kindly said before she could finish. "This is a new and frustrating change for you. Believe me, I understand completely."

Lex just stared at him for a moment, a light wave of relief overtaking her at knowing someone actually understood her and her predicament. Now, she just had so many questions she wanted to ask and things she wanted to say…and maybe Echo could give her what she needed.

Back at Cid's, Rina took another gulp of her drink, trying to keep herself together as she continued telling her tale to Hunter, "Lex had a bomb she'd been working on; an explosive of her own design that she had hoped to use. She told me she would use it on the Imps if they came after us, I told her that wasn't a good plan and she should test it before using it. She told me it would be fine and, since she's our demolitions girl, I trusted her judgment." She sighed and hung her head. "I should've fought harder against it. I should've done more."

When she reached out to take another drink, the Sergeant, however, placed his hand on her wrist and gently stopped her. "You don't need anymore," he calmly told her.

She wanted to argue with him or say something sassy back, but decided against it, not feeling like going through with it in the moment. That was probably the alcohol working. Without a word, she withdrew her hand back.

"Go on," he said.

"Like I said, the Imps got to us and tried to pin Lex down. She fought against them, but they were overpowering her as well as the rest of us," she went on. "I thought I could use the Force to get the troopers off of her, but…I couldn't do it." Her hands clenched tightly into fists. "I thought if I did that, I would expose myself as a Force user and the soldiers would've killed me. I was selfish and I panicked. I couldn't do it." Her voice then choked a little as her emotions began to well and bubble up inside her, failing her battle against them. "Because of my failure to act, Lex decided to use her explosive…which short-circuited and went off prematurely, taking Lex's left arm with it."

Hunter's eyes went wide and he reared back just a bit, shocked at this revelation. He hadn't expected her story to take such a turn.

"Seeing that happen…and then Lex lying motionless on the ground with an arm gone...I snapped," Rina stated, her voice quivering though with a touch of anger to it. "In a rage, I used the Force against the troopers that held all of us, pushing them off and away from us. We broke free and, with the rest of them dazed and distracted by the explosion, we grabbed Lex and dashed, barely making it to our ship. We were lucky Irys knew someone who was able to save Lex in time and get her a cybernetic arm." The heel of her hand made contact with the area between her eyes as she then said, "That's why Lex now has that full glove on her arm, to hide her new one. If I had just acted sooner and been a better leader; the one Kimber sees in me, I could've saved Lex…but I didn't and I failed."

Then she finally lost the fight and, to Hunter's greater astonishment, she broke down crying, burying her face in her arms on the counter.

Lex decided to ask her first question to Echo and inquired timidly as she shifted herself to fully face him, "How did you...how did you do it? Figure out how to live with your cybernetic arm?"

Echo just casually shrugged and answered her, "It wasn't easy by any means. It definitely took time, but...knowing I was stuck with it, I just had to retrain my mind to see it as just like my normal arm...only new and improved." He lifted his scomp arm and looked at it, moving it around as if carefully inspecting it. "It's now a part of me and I have to think of it as such or else I'm going to be at war with my own body and that's not going to benefit anyone." Then he looked back to her and told her, "The same goes for you, Lex. I know you hate it right now, but you can't view your arm as a hindrance or a separate piece of equipment you wear. It's a part of your physical body now; an extension of yourself. The more you reject it, the harder it's going to be for you to get used to it."

Her eyes drifted back down to her own cybernetic arm. "How can I when it's a daily reminder of my mistake; my failure?" she asked sadly. Her mind drifted back to the moment just before the explosive had gone off and how confident she had been in her abilities. She really thought she'd had it…and she couldn't have been more wrong. Now, she had a replacement arm and was in a continual state of pain, especially in her left shoulder, and she only had herself to blame.

Though, her reminiscing was interrupted as she saw Echo's hand take her own. It wasn't her flesh hand, however. He had taken hold of her metal one and her sorrowful eyes lifted to meet his caring ones.

"My arm is a daily reminder of the things I went through, too. I understand," he said to her. "You'll learn to see past your mistakes in time. You will."

Her eyes were welling up with tears, both from the physical pain in her body acting up and from being overwhelmed at Echo's kindness. Choking up, she confided in him, "It hurts...it hurts, Echo. I'm in constant pain and I can't...!" Her words cut off and they were replaced with a sob as she couldn't stop herself from crying again.

"I know...I know," he soothed her softly.

Driven by his compassion for her, he removed his good hand from her metal one and brushed away some of her tears with great tenderness and laid his hand on her cheek, slightly surprising her even more. Their eyes met for a moment and they both said nothing, the two of them experiencing a light stirring within themselves that they couldn't explain.

Then, gazing directly into her violet eyes, he stated to her with gentle intensity, "I see you, Lex. I do. I've been through what you're experiencing now. The agony will go away, I promise you."

Instinctively, Lex leaned into his hand and continued to cry quietly. Whether it was her influx of emotions or just how vulnerable she was feeling in the moment which wasn't always like her, something about Echo made her feel safe right then and his comforting touch was unknowingly what she needed.

All too soon, though, his hand left her cheek as he then said, "Let me get you something for the pain."

"No, you don't have to do that," she protested as he stood up.

"It's too late. I'm already up and I'm taking you with me," he stated, holding out a hand to her. "I'm not leaving you out here alone and I want to help you. Come with me back to the Marauder and I'll get something to relieve your pain."

Still taken aback by his genuine charity, Lex simply stared at him, her jaw hanging open just a touch. She hadn't known such kindness from a man before, not like this. Any other men she'd known were shady, untrustworthy and ofttimes had unsavory intentions. Echo was a whole different kind of man unlike any she'd ever met. Even though she'd spoken to him before during their brief downtime on Toydaria months prior, she hadn't seen this side of him. Was it because they were alone this time? Or was it that he was opening up more because of their shared trauma? She couldn't quite place how she'd never noticed him like this before…but she was noticing him now.

After a few seconds, she took his hand and allowed him to pull her up to her feet before the two of them walked together to the Marauder.

"Rina, you're not a failure," Hunter told the crying woman, placing a hand between her shoulder blades.

"Yes, I am," came her muffled reply. "Boss Lady left me in charge of the girls and expected me to protect them. I had one job and I made an absolute mess of it. She's never going to trust me again."

"I know Kimber and I know she won't blame you for any of it. That's not in her nature."

"Even so, I'm sure Lex blames me. She's barely spoken to me since it happened."

He leaned in a little closer to her ear and said in a gentle tone, "I honestly doubt Lex holds you responsible either and more than likely, she just feels embarrassed. Yes, you're the acting leader of the Koriena Force, but that doesn't mean all of their actions fall onto you. You can't hold yourself responsible for everything that happens to them, especially when they do end up suffering the consequences of their own actions."

Rina turned her head on her folded arms and looked up at him, her crying ceasing and her eyes turning red and puffy.

He continued, pulling his hand back, "Yes, what happened to Lex was terrible, but she made her choice and sometimes, for those of us who lead our own squads, we can't always protect them from everything. That's something I've had to learn the hard way, too." Then he averted his eyes down to his lap and heaved a heavy sigh. "I couldn't protect Kimber from the Zygerrians on our last mission together and she got hurt. I…I couldn't protect Crosshair…and now he's with the Empire," he said, his voice catching as he recalled when the Empire took Crosshair from them in the brig on Kamino. "I didn't fight hard enough either when they took him from us and I carry that guilt with me every day. However, he also still made his choice and I can't blame myself for that. Neither should you blame yourself for what happened to Lex."

Her head shifted slightly back into her arms and her gaze drifted, contemplating on his words.

Then he said, "Besides, if you had done what you wanted to do and used the Force on the Imperials, you would've been gunned down and then where would your squad be? You weren't acting selfishly. You kept yourself alive for your friends and for Kimber. Isn't that what matters? And how do you think Wrecker would've taken the news if that had happened to you?"

That last question was what made Rina almost burst into tears again, the thought of her big guy being sad at hearing she had been killed. She didn't want to picture his usual smiling, happy face being twisted with pain and grief.

"He's crazy about you and he would've been heartbroken if he'd lost you," Hunter said to her. "Kimber would've been devastated, too, and so would the rest of the girls and us. What you chose to do wasn't selfish. It was for the better. What Lex chose to do wasn't selfish either and, while it had awful consequences, she's alive and she'll learn from them. Both of you will learn from this. That's how you grow and improve as a leader: learn from mistakes and always strive to do better." He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You hear me, Rina? You're gonna be okay."

Rina ran the back of her hand across her cheeks, wiping away the tear trails on her face. "You really think so, Sarge?" she questioned in a strained voice.

He offered an encouraging smile and replied, "I do. You're one of the toughest women I know."

She let out a small scoff. "I'm pretty sure I'm one of the only women you know."

"Fair point, but that doesn't change the fact that you're strong," he said. He grasped her shoulder a little tighter. "Don't beat yourself up, okay? What happened wasn't your fault and if Lex thinks otherwise, then you can send her to me."

That got a tiny laugh out of her as she brushed away the last of her tears from her eyes. Strangely, venting to Hunter and listening to his advice was starting to make her feel a bit better, even though she didn't imagine the night would turn out that way. Given that he was a leader, too, he knew exactly how she was feeling and what to say to help her. She figured she wouldn't feel completely better about the situation until she talked it out with Lex, but given the fact Lex hadn't really spoken to her, Rina figured she'd give her time.

"Never thought I would've sat in this bar baring my soul to you, of all people," she said.

Hunter chuckled. "I'm sure," he replied, moving his hand away.

She looked at the glass on the bar and pushed it away. "This is why I don't drink a lot," she commented. "It gets me all emotional and weepy. Not my style."

"Ah, it's nothing to be ashamed of," he said.

"It is for me. I got a reputation," she wittily replied. When he simply snickered back, she mustered up a small smile for him. "Thanks...for listening and for the things you said. I guess you're not too bad after all."

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "You're just now seeing that?" he teased back.

"Hey, don't push your luck, lover boy," she warned him, grinning as she gave him a light shove in the arm. "You know I can still mess you up."

"I haven't forgotten," he assured her. "Besides, you helped me when I needed it. I'm glad to return the favor." Then he playfully punched her shoulder. "You've got this, Rina. Kimber would be proud of you."

Rina grinned shyly at that comment, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. "Don't…don't tell her what happened to Lex," she requested. "I want it to come from me or one of the other girls and we haven't gotten around to telling her."

Hunter bowed his head and promised, "You have my word." He gestured with his head to the door of the parlor and got up from his seat. "Come on, let's get you back to the Aurora. You need to sleep off everything you drank tonight."

With a sigh, she hopped off her barstool and added, coming up next to him as they exited the building, "Yeah and hope I don't wake up with a hangover."

Echo and Lex shortly reached the Marauder and he told her to wait outside while he ran in to get the proper supplies. It didn't take long for him to return with a stim and a canister which he secured inside.

"This might hurt just a little. Keep still," he told her as he approached.

She nodded in understanding and then he injected the stim into her shoulder. She winced from the slight piercing pain of the needle, but the injection was done in a flash. In seconds, she started to feel the pain relief taking effect.

As she pulled her full glove back over her cybernetic arm, she said to him, "Echo, I...I want to thank you."

After putting the stim into a pouch, he gave her a curious look. "For what?" he inquired.

With a small, indifferent shrug, she answered, "For talking to me and for your advice. I guess I should've known you would know what I'm going through and that I could've come to you."

He grinned pleasantly. "It's okay. You can talk to me anytime and I'll help in any way I can," he said. Then he laid a hand on her shoulder. "You're not an idiot for doing what you did. You're a bright, strong and brave woman and this doesn't change that," he then reassured her. "You just got caught up in your hubris, which can happen to anyone, but you can learn from this and become stronger. I have and I know you can, too."

For a moment, Lex just found herself caught up in his words that she couldn't find anything to say back. Instead, she just nodded to him.

"You've got this. Remember that. Okay?" he said.

"Thanks," she said sweetly.

Removing his hand from her shoulder, he took a step back and stated, "I'll leave you be now and let you get some rest. See you tomorrow maybe?"

She smiled back. "Yeah...see you tomorrow."

Echo then flashed a genuine smile at Lex before making his way to his ship and to her surprise, her heart seemed to skip a beat upon seeing it and he seemed…even more handsome in that moment than she initially thought. She couldn't figure out why that was. Though, she was more than grateful for his help and comfort. It was encouraging to know there was someone who understood what she was going though and could offer the aid she needed that no one else could. Echo was a good soldier and an even better man.

"Lex?"

Hearing her name, she turned in the direction it came from and saw Rina standing a few feet away, staring at her, with Hunter right behind her.

"Rina," Lex said aloud, seeing her friend and unsure how to react.

Rina slowly approached Lex and stopped just a few steps short of her, her mouth wavering slightly as she seemed to want to say something.

The awkward silence was then broken by Lex saying, "I’m sorry."

Startled, Rina's eyebrows furrowed.

Lex went on to say to her, "You were right, I never should've used that explosive. I should’ve listened to you. I was overconfident and more than that, I was desperate. And I’m sorry I’ve been distant. My actions put us, Irys, Kida and Kori all at risk…and I thought you were mad and disappointed in me."

Rina was too stunned to speak at first. All that time, she'd really thought Lex blamed her and she couldn't believe she was hearing otherwise. Once she finally found the ability to speak again, she responded, astonished, "What? Lex, I thought you were mad at me...and blamed me for what happened."

Now it was Lex's turn to be shocked. "What are you talking about? Why would I blame you?"

Timidly, Rina told her, "Because I couldn’t protect you…and I thought I was being selfish. I thought about using the Force to get the troopers off of you when they tried to grab us, but I was afraid that I would expose myself and I hesitated. If I had just done that, you wouldn’t have had to use that explosive."

Lex's eyes widened in disbelief and she strode over to Rina, stopping just in front of her. "Rina Caska, if you had done that, they would’ve thought you were a Jedi and you would’ve been killed for sure!" she exclaimed, stunned that Rina had blamed herself.

Uncertain of what to say back, Rina just looked away.

Placing her hands on Rina's shoulders, Lex then declared firmly, giving her a light shake, "I would rather lose my arm than lose you. You hear me?"

Behind Rina, Hunter stole a hopeful look over to Echo, who had stopped and stayed in the entryway to the Marauder when he'd heard Rina call out. They both exchanged pleased grins at what Lex had said to Rina, knowing that one statement alone would help heal the rift between the two women.

All Rina could do was stare, dumbfounded, back at Lex with eyes that were starting to well up with tears again that she quickly blinked away so Lex wouldn't know she was about to cry. The reprieve of knowing Lex didn't actually blame her for everything that happened and was never mad at her lifted such a great burden from her shoulders.

Then Lex added in a softer voice, "I was able to replace my arm…but I can’t replace you. I know I've got a long road ahead of me, but I'll get through this. I've got you, the girls…and now, I've got more help here, too." She pulled her hands back and looked over her shoulder back at Echo, who bowed his head reverently. Then she turned back to Rina. "I'm gonna be okay."

"That…makes me glad to hear," Rina replied, trying to keep from getting choked up. Then she held a hand out to Lex. "So we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good," said Lex, grasping Rina's forearm in return, the two of them exchanging caring looks between them before leaving Hunter and Echo alone to return to their ship.

Hunter made his way over to the ramp where Echo was waiting for him at the top.

"I guess we arrived back at a good time. Looks like you got everything worked out with Rina," said Echo.

"I did. She was struggling with her confidence as a leader and I had a talk with her. I take it you talked to Lex?" Hunter asked, stepping onto the stairs.

With a nod, Echo explained, "I found her crying not far from the Aurora and accidentally learned her secret, but she did end up confiding in me. I did what I could for her and promised that I would continue to whenever she needs."

As he came up to the steps near the top, Hunter stated, "Well, if anyone here can help her, it's you."

"I'll do my best," said Echo.

Then Hunter grinned at him. "I saw the way she looked at you," he pointed out. "I think she likes you."

Though, Echo shook his head. "I doubt that. I think she's just happy to know someone who actually sees her and understands her."

Hunter wasn't necessarily convinced of that, but he wasn't going to press it for now. "If you say so. Let's get some rest."

With that being said, the two Clones retreated back into their ship for a good night's sleep after a surprising night of revelations for both of them.

[betterbooktitles]

Screen Time, Take 5: A Blast From The Past

My college girlfriend asked me to watch Fellini’s La Strada with her one night. A professor from the theater department had assigned it for a class I’m sure was spent forcing students to walk across the room pretending to be tigers or as if moving through Jell-O before discussing a Samuel Beckett play they all had skimmed that week. I agreed to watch the movie. Of course, I owned a two-disc DVD copy of the La Strada and, of course, in the two years since I bought it, had failed to watch it. My Fellini phase started at 16 because Roger Ebert said I had to like La Dolce Vita (I saw it, hated it, pretended to like it for years), and solidified when a cool, attractive person I never ended up dating told me her favorite movie was 8 1/2, a movie that rewired my brain so that I only liked that movie and no other movie for about 5 months. Certainly, La Strada would be somewhere in the middle?

It isn’t. But that didn’t stop my girlfriend and I from popping in the second disc after we’d muscled our way through it to see a special feature with Martin Scorsese saying “this movie is good” for 40 minutes over clips of the movie we had finished watching five minutes prior.

“I don’t like how it’s dubbed.” I said.

“It’s the commedia dell’arte,” she said as I brewed a giant travel mug’s worth of coffee at my dorm room desk. This was before K Cups. I had a big tub of grounds and a machine that made one travel mug’s worth of coffee in my room so that I could wake up five minutes before class, and be caffeinated by the end of my morning power walk to Olin Hall. I also found that I needed caffeine in the evenings to get through any movie screening or exhausting conversations with other Bard students.

“OK. Yes. I get that.” I put the disk in the DVD player and sat back down in the maroon Dorito-dust-covered papasan. I poured powdered creamer into the mug and hit the button on the remote to hear what Scorsese had to say.

“La Strada is about commedia dell’arte.” he said to the documentarian.

“Hmm.” My girlfriend looked at me and then wrote ‘commedia dell’arte’ in her notebook. I rolled my eyes. She had recently learned about a subject, told me about it, heard the subject mentioned back to her, and wanted to make sure I heard that she was right about the thing that she said because now a professional director was saying it back to us from a screen. She often gave this affected performance of making sure I heard something she’d said before repeated by a friend at a party or a professor. It irked me but it was far from her most annoying habit (the incessant cheating).

There are several ways I would have reacted differently now. First, I would have remembered to bring my travel mug to the cafeteria so I could bring better coffee back to the dorm that evening. Second, I wouldn’t have scoffed at a person who knew a fact, heard the fact repeated, and took pleasure in acknowledging “Yes. I know that fact.” This moment of satisfaction is one of the rare pleasures a smart person gets to have.

Who doesn’t love already knowing stuff? It feels great. At a party “yes, anding” someone who said a fact you also know from a Bill Bryson book you both read? Or hearing someone repeat a snippet from RadioLab and finishing their sentence? That’s a true nerdy connection. It’s the same feeling I get when I read a history book and see an event I memorized the name of in high school and finally gain a real understanding of said event now that I have the patience to read and comprehend a modicum of historical context. Is there a word for that? For seeing something you’re familiar with in passing and then retracing your steps to find out more information, or even information you already knew? Not self-satisfied smugness, like someone who says “hmm” after your boyfriend’s hero repeats a phrase on a DVD extra. Not confirmation bias exactly. I mean the joy of watching a Ken Burns documentary and when the narrator mentions The Teapot Dome Scandal, your brain lights up and says “The Teapot Dome Scandal. We know about The Teapot Dome scandal. Hmm. Yes.” I swear, this feeling must have a name. It’s on the tip of my tongue.

Read the rest here

[thetoxicvault]

GIRLSCHOOL

The School Report 1978-2008 (2023)

HNE Recordings Ltd - HNEBOX161

Great Brittain / London / U.K. 🇬🇧

If you was lucky enough to have pre-ordered early you may have got a autographed card (sadly enough, i was not).

• In-depth box set, delving right back to the band’s pub rock roots right up until the present.

• A celebration of Girlschool’s 40 plus years of rocking the globe, kicking off with their independently released 45 ‘Take It All Away’ b/w ‘It Could Be Better’.

Formed at school in the mid-70s, when friends Kim McAuliffe on guitar and bassist Enid Williams joined forces as Painted Lady, Girlschool formed in 1978, swept up as part of the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal movement that also gave us Iron Maiden, Def Leppard and Saxon, recruiting lead guitarist Kelly Johnson and drummer Denise Dufort in April 1978.

Debut LP ‘Demolition’ made it into the UK Top 30 in 1980, and the girls even found time while recording their follow up album ‘Hit And Run’ (1981) with producer Vic Maile, to record the ‘St Valentines Day Massacre’ EP with label mates Motörhead as HeadGirl.1982’s ‘Wildlife’ EP would be Enid’s last outing with Girlschool for a while, as she was replaced on bass by Gil Weston for ‘Screaming Blue Murder’ (1982).

Their fourth album, ‘Play Dirty’ (1983), was issued in the States on Mercury Records, who also picked up the option to release their fifth, ‘Running Wild’ (1985). The first album to be released without Kelly Johnson, it saw founder members Kim McAulliffe and Denise Dufort joined by Gil Weston, Jackie Bodimead (lead vocals, keyboards) and Cris Bonacci (guitar).

A new deal with GWR saw albums ‘Nightmare At Maple Cross’ (1986) and ‘Take A Bite’ (1988), by which time the bass slot had been filled by former Rock Goddess Tracey Lamb. Their eighth studio album, the self-titled ‘Girlschool’ came out in 1992 and 2002’s ‘21st Anniversary – Not That Innocent’ marked the beginning of a more prolific time for the band, as they would follow it up with ‘Believe’ (2004), ‘Legacy’ (2008).

CD 4 features many rare B-Sides and non-album cuts, as well as demos dating from 1978 up to 2002 and CD5 boasts an ultra rare live recording from the pre-Girlschool Painted Lady.

This five disc set comes with an extended essay from NWOBHM expert John Tucker, and features plenty of pages of rare photos and sought after memorabilia.

Box Set Credits

Release Coordination : Hugh Gilmour & Steve Hammonds

with special thanks to Giles Lavery

Liner Notes & Compilation : John Tucker

Mastering Andy Pearce & Matt Wortham at Wired Masters

Design & Artwork Gilmour Design, London

Demolition Girls (1979-1983)

1-1 Take It All Away (A-side)

1-2 It Could Be Better (B-side)

1-3 Emergency

1-4 Nothing To Lose

1-5 Demolition Boys

1-6 Not For Sale

1-7 Take It All Away

1-8 Breakdown

1-9 Race With The Devil

1-10 Yeah Right

1-11 Please Don’t Touch (with Motörhead)

1-12 Hit And Run

1-13 The Hunter

1-14 (I’m Your) Victim

1-15 Watch Your Step

1-16 C’mon Let’s Go

1-17 Tush

1-18 Don’t Call It Love (Wildlife EP)

1-19 Screaming Blue Murder

1-20 It Turns Your Head Around

1-23 You Got Me

1-22 Take It From Me

1-23 1-2-3-4 Rock And Roll

Playing Dirty (1983-1988)

2-1 20th Century Boy

2-2 Play Dirty

2-3 Running For Cover

2-4 High & Dry

2-5 Going Under

2-6 Burning In The Heat

2-7 Nowhere To Run

2-8 Are You Ready?

2-9 Let Me Go

2-10 Running Wild

2-11 Love Is A Lie

2-12 Nasty Nasty

2-13 Back For More

2-14 All Day All Night

2-15 You’ve Got Me (Under Your Spell)

2-16 Let’s Go Crazy

2-17 Play With Fire

2-18 Head Over Heels

2-19 Action

2-20 Love At First Bite

2-21 Too Hot To Handle

Still Not That Innocent (1992-2015)

3-1 My Ambition

3-2 Can’t Say No

3-3 Can’t Do That

3-4 Take Me I’m Yours

3-5 Innocent

3-6 Knife

3-7 Coming Your Way

3-8 Mad Mad Sister

3-9 Let’s Get Hard

3-10 Secret

3-11 You Say

3-12 Passion

3-13 Other Side

3-14 I Spy (Dio/Iommi Mix)

3-15 Legend

3-16 Metropolis

I Told You So – Singles, B-Sides (1980-1983)

4-1 Furniture Fire (B-side)

4-2 Nothing To Lose (7″ edit)

4-3 Bomber (St Valentine’s Day)

4-4 Emergency (St Valentine’s Day)

4-5 Tonight (B-side)

4-6 Demolition Boys (Live B-side)

4-7 Tonight (Live B-side)

4-8 Wildlife

4-9 Don’t Stop

4-10 Tush

4-11 Don’t Call It Love

4-12 1-2-3-4 Rock And Roll (ext ver)

4-13 Like It Like That (B-side)

Demos (1978-2002)

4-14 Let’s Spend The Night Together

4-15 Just Don’t Care

4-16 Nothing To Lose

4-17 Baby Doll

4-18 Not For Sale

4-19 Running Wild

4-20 Love Is A Lie

4-21 I Told You So

4-22 Have A Nice Day

4-23 London

The Pre-School Years – Painted Lady Live (1978)

5-1 I Wanted To Boogie

5-2 Be My Lover

5-3 Smoke On The Water

5-4 King of The Blues

5-5 Sometime World

5-6 Rub It In

5-7 I Saw You Standing There

5-8 All Along The Watchtower

5-9 Paper Plane

5-10 Johnny B. Goode

5-11 Shoot Shoot

5-12 How Can I Tell You

5-13 Can’t Get Enough

5-14 All Right Now

5-15 Knocking On Heaven’s Door

5-16 Gimme Some Loving

5-17 Honky Tonk Women

5-18 Change’s Coming

5-19 Hey Joe

5-20 You Keep Me Hanging On

Credits

Bass Guitar – Bernice Cartwright, Jackie Carrera

Bass Guitar, Backing Vocals – Gil Weston, Tracey Lamb

Bass Guitar, Lead Vocals – Enid Williams

Drums – Denise Dufort, Tina Gayle, Val Lloyd

Keyboards, Lead Vocals – Jackie Bodimead

Lead Guitar – Cris Bonacci, Deirdre Cartwright, Kathy Valentine

Lead Guitar, Backing Vocals – Jackie Chambers

Lead Guitar, Lead Vocals – Kelly Johnson

Rhythm Guitar, Lead Vocals – Kim McAuliffe

[jerboagoat]

Folie à Deux

I don't usually post my fics here, but since this is for an exchange I figure I might as well!

She had told you once that they were all in your head.But they couldn't stay there forever.- CONCEPTUALIZATION - Welcome. Today we will share with you a short exploration, explanation, and introduction of… Well, us! Your good friend Harry has a lot going on in his head. We have a lot we want to say to you… But will you be able to hear us?

For @scribblemakes, for the Disco Elysium Secret Santa 2022! Have a happy holidays, I hope you like this. :)  I tried to keep it a bit more lighthearted than I usually write, so hopefully I did that well enough, haha.

TWs: canon-typical or lighter Most Things, including suicidal ideation and implied/referenced drug use. also includes semi-graphic description of internal organs, but like, only in metaphors?

read here on ao3, or under the cut!

CONCEPTUALIZATION - It started with one, long before you could remember (even if you could remember). 

INLAND EMPIRE - One with long, spindly limbs and a glowing light in its chest, that loomed over you like a radio tower, with not an antenna but an oculus atop its skinny neck; a vast, circular gap in reality for a head. The rounded shape gave way to a spiral of patterns, spatters and speckles of violet and lilac, resembling…

EMPATHY - A distant galaxy, flush with beings you didn't yet know.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - A lighthouse, on the horizon. Guiding your voyage— no, inspiring it.

DRAMA - A thrumming projector! What self-lit vignettes could it show thee?

HALF LIGHT - The dark blood of a gunshot wound staining the wall…

PAIN THRESHOLD - L'appel du vide. Go on.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Oh, oh, let me try. A Kron's disc. Invented in the central Occident, a shallow glass dish, primarily used to culture and grow bacteria. It can also—

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Alright, alright, maybe cool it with the fun facts? We're trying to weave a cohesive narrative, here. Back to The Oneiromancer. The first, but far from the only, the—

ENCYCLOPEDIA - But the term oneiro—

VOLITION [Medium: Success] - Zip it.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Yessir.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Anyway. Let's continue.

INLAND EMPIRE - I came to you when you were young, too young to know fact from fiction. You looked up at me and saw not delusion, not illusion, but prelusion. A beginning and nothing less. I spoke to you, then, and you listened. I told you of the others.

EMPATHY - You were lonely, so lonely, even then.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Of course you wanted to meet us.

PERCEPTION - It was then that you saw, truly saw, the world as it was. We lived around you as much as we lived within you. My vapors filled the air, bounced off of every surface, sent the information back to your ears, your eyes, your mind. Your senses heightened. The pale itself reflected.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Like echolocation, but with fog. Is there a word for that?

ENCYCLOPEDIA - May I?

AUTHORITY - You may.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - There isn't.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Great, thanks.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - And with your newfound sight you wanted, more than anything, to learn. About the world, about yourself, about us.

EMPATHY - You were young, so young… You didn’t know any better. 

ENCYCLOPEDIA - I was smaller then. My pages were simple, limited in their language as you were in yours. But my library is ever-growing. You hungered for knowledge. Every blade of grass, every cracked stone, every creature, every human… You wanted to know. You wanted to…

CONCEPTUALIZATION - See, now you're getting the narrative voice we're going for here.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - You wanted to learn.

PAIN THRESHOLD - And learn you did. Of scraped knees and breaths lost, superficial burns and gaping wounds. You were six years old when you first closed your fist around a radiator, blissfully unaware of the pain to come. I greeted you then, sharp and screaming, and I pierced your flesh. We've been inseparable ever since, haven't we?

ESPRIT DE CORPS - All of us have. 

CONCEPTUALIZATION - No matter how lonely you get, you are a live wire, a raw electric current, a being made for and by connections. Always have been, always will be.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - We met the day you (all of you, don't flatter yourself) came up with the name— The Fifteenth Indotribe. Yours, his, hers, theirs. Your first introduction to teamwork. You spoke in codes, conjured behind dumpsters and scrawled in the wet mud below crumbling gutterspouts. I told you where they were, how they were, who they were, until there was nothing left to tell. I've grown in the time since. Colleagues, fellow teachers, partners, allies, even enemies… I've memorized their faces, made them my own, and told you their stories as they happened. The—

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Hold on. Someone just said something.

YOU - "Huh? What?"

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant sighs, sitting across the table from you, and repeats himself. "What does all of this have to do with you running halfway across Jamrock and back just to track me down and drag me here?" He pauses. "I'm not sure where here even is. I haven't gone this far south often enough to know it well."

YOU - "I didn't have to track you down, I knew where you were! That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

KIM KITSURAGI - He crosses his arms, resting them on the table. "And how, may I ask, did you know?"

ESPRIT DE CORPS - That would be my doing.

YOU - "One of the, uh… voices in my head. Told me."

EMPATHY - …He seems… unimpressed.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes. That would be because I am."

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Oh my god! He can hear us!?

KIM KITSURAGI - "I can hear you, detective. Especially when you shout like that… Doing a silly little voice like that doesn't make you inaudible. You do know that, don't you?"

DRAMA - Don't listen to him, sire! 'Tis not silly. Thy voice art imposing, impassioned, im—

KIM KITSURAGI - "Im-becilic?"

YOU - "Hey!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Sorry… I couldn't resist. Really, though. I don't see what these stories—or voices— have to do with you knowing where I am at any given moment. Or why I happen to be here, now. You still haven't explained that."

INLAND EMPIRE - You had to be. You both have to be. You’ll see soon enough. This is his only chance to understand. 

KIM KITSURAGI - "Understand what, exactly?"

INLAND EMPIRE - You'll see. Soon…

CONCEPTUALIZATION - …But we have a bit of time to wait, don't we? Let's get the rest of our introductions in order. Where did we leave off, again?

SUGGESTION - We were discussing childhood friends, but Mr. Cloak-Of-Many-Faces over there started rushing through things a bit.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - It was relevant information! I'm all about the cop stuff now. I hardly do anything else, and you expected me not to talk about it?

CONCEPTUALIZATION - I expected you to adhere to the narrative progression we're establishing! Timeline order! The big guy hardly remembers most of this, we have to at least try to make it make sense.

PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Challenging: Success] - Across the table, a stifled chuckle… "The big guy…?"

EMPATHY - But he's willing to humor you, for now.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - We'll take it. Who's next? Indotribe fifteen. Go.

SAVOIR FAIRE - I'll go. Your comrades were fast. You were too. You ran with them, as far as your legs would take you… And I ran with you. Leaps and bounds across sidewalk gaps… Sometimes I would guide your legs with my own, your arms with mine. You could feel parts of you that weren't there, and you could move with them. Sometimes I ran beside you. The first time you sat in a motor carriage I followed from outside, and you watched me twirl and leap and climb faster than you had ever gone before. You spent the next few days convinced your calling in life was scaling buildings and jumping from roof to roof.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - There's a word for that. It's called parkour.

SAVOIR FAIRE - I believe the word is actually "cool as hell."

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - That is three words.

SAVOIR FAIRE - Here's two more! "Fuck", and "off!"

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Settle down, you two. Keep the story going!

INTERFACING - The carriage itself stuck in your mind after that, too. It would be a long, long time before you would get to have one for yourself…

VOLITION [Legendary: Success] - Don't think about it. Don't.

INTERFACING - …But you found comfort in running your hands along the cold metal sides of the ones you saw parked on street corners. Many times you were chased off with a shout from their owners, people who knew themselves and their vehicles to be better than your smudged fingerprints. But many more times you weren't, and you could slide around to the back and inspect the engine. Together we would study the shapes of tubes and rivets and vents. Later you would practice twirling a pencil in your hand when you had one. When you didn't, you practiced the art of—

REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - Wait. Maybe we shouldn't say that in front of Kim… He's a cop.

LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - You're a cop.

KIM KITSURAGI - That breaks him. Finally, he lets himself laugh. Quiet but achingly genuine. "Yes. Yes you are."

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - That warm feeling in your chest… Is it yours, or his?

KIM KITSURAGI - He takes a moment to collect himself, then clarifies: "You don't have to worry, detective. If I was going to arrest you for something you did in your teens, don't you think I would have done it by now?"

YOU - "Oh. Fair point."

INTERFACING - Well… Stealing. I was just gonna say stealing. You did that. A lot, actually. Were pretty good at it, too!

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Easy: Success] - A slight roll of the eyes, and an even slighter smile.

RHETORIC - You fancied yourself a heroic thief, the kind they tell stories about. Or at least that's the tale you and your friends spun together on late nights. You were the lowest of the low, then, but you would beguile and outsmart those in power, scrape by, until one day you were on top of the world… And then what? You'd spend hours on the debate. Take it all for yourselves? No, share your spoils with the downtrodden! What sort of world would you build? Anarchy, that you all would run.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - An oxymoron, but…

RHETORIC - That wasn't the point. The point was talking, talking with people who understood you. Your peers. Forming your worldviews. Molding them together.

INLAND EMPIRE - It swallows itself, over and over again, but can never consume…

RHETORIC - There was no end goal, then. The Indotribe is gone. But the words, the thoughts? They live on.

EMPATHY - Even if you can't remember them.

SUGGESTION - In the end, you got hooked on talking. Nobody was safe. Strangers, friends, enemies, men, women, and all in between… The more years passed, the more you spoke— And then the less you spoke. You learned which words you needed and which could go unsaid. My flowing tendrils stretched out from your skull to reach all those you met, to learn all you could. Siphoning knowledge and secrets from an unbroken connection between minds. You relished in it.

EMPATHY - The world was out there, and each and every person had lived a life just as beautiful and disastrous as your own. You'd stop people in the street just to ask them where they got their coat, where they were headed, who they were going to meet. A few times you asked to come along. Once someone agreed. An old Graadian woman heading home to an empty house. Her children had aged and gone, her husband had done the same. She had been making a stew. She served you some, warm and bubbling.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - It was far too thick, far too salty, and a little undercooked, but you scarfed it down like life itself depended on it.

EMPATHY - People. Connections. You met people on city streets, in buildings big and small, on rooftops, in parks, at bus stops…

VOLITION [Godly: Failure] - Oh no, no, don't…

EMPATHY - I burn like incense. I live in the shape of her. Which of us came first? Did you mold me to fit her curves, or was I always this way? Did I always hold myself so close?

INLAND EMPIRE - Always, always.

EMPATHY - Kim, don't. Don't move your arm. Don't interrupt… We want to stay in our thoughts. In the memories.

INLAND EMPIRE - You met at the bus stop. Do you remember? Do you remember?

YOU - "I… I…"

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Godly: Success] - You remember what you were at that bus stop FOR! YOUR GOD-DAMNED MOTHER-FUCKING GYM-TEACHING JOB! RISE AND GRIND, BOY!

VOLITION - Oh, thank god.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - You LOVED that damn job! We both did! Dodgeball, kickball, running the mile, even climbing that old scratchy rope. We did it all together, my arms wrapped 'round yours. Not that you needed the help back then! Man, those were the days. What happened to you, son?

EMPATHY - Oh, wait, wasn't that… You're trying to remember…

INLAND EMPIRE [Impossible: Success] - The first time someone else acknowledged us.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - OH MY GOD, I FORGOT!

KIM KITSURAGI - "Oh?" His eyes widen slightly.

EMPATHY [Challenging: Failure] - There's something happening with his expression, something familiar, but… You can't quite place it.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - I got it wrong, son, I wasn't always by your side. When you had the kids spread out in lines, doing push-ups 'till they dropped, I'd help you keep their postures in check. One of them, a little skinny blonde kid towards the left corner… He was younger than all the rest. I think he skipped a few grades? Maybe he was book-smart, but he clearly had no clue what he was doing in our class. He wasn't going down far enough to lock his elbows properly. So I pushed down on his back and—get this—the kid just dropped like a sack of potatoes!

KIM KITSURAGI - He adjusts his position in the chair and nods for you to continue.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - There! Barely, just barely, he's smirking! He’s… amused.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Host Almighty… He doesn't believe in us.

KIM KITSURAGI - "No no, I… I believe that you believe all this, and I know that sometimes these… 'voices' are useful, but…" He struggles to find the words, too caught up in steadying his own expression. "I mean, I think that's just a coincidence, no?"

EMPATHY - He's trying, desperately, for your sake and his, to keep his voice level. Sometimes you lower his guard too far for your own good.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - IT HAPPENED! I remember now, too, uh, he shouted! Little guy yelled out something like "What the fuck!?" as he went down.

AUTHORITY - You were never one to stop the kids from swearing in your presence, but the way his profanity echoed through the gym's high ceiling meant you had to do something, even if only to keep up appearances to the rest of the school’s staff.

SUGGESTION - You told him to stay after class for extra reps, and, in between your usual teacherly chants, you probed for information.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - "WHAT IN THE HELL HAPPENED BACK THERE, SON!?"

PERCEPTION - The distinct feeling of a hand, square in the center on his back, firmly pushing down. 

INLAND EMPIRE - There was no other way to explain it. One of us had broken through. We were real.

KIM KITSURAGI - His brows furrow. "Still… I can't say that's proof of anything."

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - IT HAPPENED, GOD DAMN IT!!!

VOLITION - No, no, don't punch the walls. This place is dilapidated enough already.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - Don't worry. Doesn't seem like it left a mark.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Of course it…" He takes a breath. "Nevermind. I'm sorry if I frustrated you. You can go ahead and keep telling your story."

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Yes, yes, the story!

AUTHORITY - The kids were extra rowdy the next class you had with them, jumping as they always did at the chance for a bit of good old-fashioned mockery. As far as they were concerned the poor twig had simply slipped and face-planted on his own. Amusing, but mostly unremarkable. But the ensuing shout turned a medium-tier mishap into something every kid in class saw. You had to shut it down. That's where I came in. Kids, especially teens, can be brutal, but we always managed to wrangle them in the end. All we had to show them was that, in their eternal struggle for dominance over their peers, in the endless game of social status, you were not the loser, not the winner, but the judge himself. You stood taller with me by your side, and we ruled our empire together. That kept them in line.

REACTION SPEED - It kept them in line… most of the time. They couldn't truly respect you if they didn't test your limits from time to time. I helped with that. A whispered insult to your pride shot through the air? I'd help you catch it, and send it back two-times over in an instant. It got you in trouble once or twice, when the more spoiled kids would run home to their parents and complain. But the rest of them lived for it. Just another game. Each time they passed you the baton your vision would blur with me and your body would move before your mind. Hey, think fast!

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Impossible: Failure] - Whuh— Hey!

REACTION SPEED - Aw, come on, that was an easy one.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - If you'd just given me more warning… Ugh, I know that's not your style. No more metaphors. You know all your tossing and throwing is no good if you can't aim, right? And you can't do that without me. Not balls, not boules, and certainly not, oh, I don’t know, our gun? That's a situation where I'm much more useful.

LOGIC [Easy: Success] - You work better in tandem. Sacrifice one and you'll miss your mark, sacrifice the other and you'll be too late to shoot in the first place. 

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Hm… Fair enough.

ENDURANCE - It was only after someone convinced you to change career paths that I truly flourished. You had kept yourself healthy before, kept yourself in shape. But in shape doesn't mean unbreakable, and for this job, that was what you had to be. You started at the bottom of the barrel, climbed your way out, built up your stamina, made yourself harder, denser, more and more. So we could take anything.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Challenging: Success] - Did you say take anything?

ENDURANCE - Yes. Yes I did.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Heh. Okay. Good. Just checking.

LOGIC - Alright, that's enough, you meatheads. It's my turn.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] - Ha ha, ha. Meat.

LOGIC - Quiet, you. Don't you know there's more to life than hitting, getting hit, and taking hits? Especially since we started this job. Finally, we had the chance to make use of all those little shards of humanity we'd been collecting all those years. That was your next addiction. Of course, you were still learning along the way, but now your knowledge had a purpose as pieces in a grand series of puzzles to solve. You finally, finally began to see the value in me, and you built me from the ground up with all the pieces left behind. Sometimes I would crumble, your logic would fail, and you took it as a challenge. You found something better. Not always the truth. That's simply the nature of things. Incidentally, this was around the time you rekindled your childhood passing interest in entroponetics. 

INLAND EMPIRE - Maybe not the best of timing. It all did a bit of a number on you.

LOGIC - It's no wonder you started listening to him more often.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Who, me? What's so wrong about listening to li'l ol' me?

EMPATHY - A slight grimace from across the table. He already dislikes this voice.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Oh, come on, Kimmy, I'm probably your biggest fan out of all of us! 

KIM KITSURAGI - His grimace deepens.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Ugh. Alright. Maybe I don't always steer us in the exact right direction. But can you blame me? Your body wants what it wants. I don't think you'd count as human if you weren't thinking about sex and drugs and sex at least some of the time.

LOGIC - You said sex twice.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Yes.

VOLITION - Alright, this one is useless. Can someone else do his description so we can get this over with?

INLAND EMPIRE - It digs into your skin like veins, sending its nerves through your bloodstream. Tendrils like arteries sprout from its shoulders. Its exposed brain sags out the side of its skull, prime for any addictive influence. A wire like a battery runs through its back, charged with electric current ready to burst. It sings to you in the dark hours of legs and arms and hips and breathing quickly—

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Hell yeah I do! Booyah!

VOLITION - Okay, that's good enough. Let's move on.

EMPATHY - This part of the story isn't much better, though…

VISUAL CALCULUS - To make a long, long story short, you were stuck in the past. Rebuilding the same structures, replaying the same scenes. The revolution was over long before. I helped you solve cases, sure… I crafted scenes and played them back for you. My mind's cubic eye projected its vision onto yours. But you got so lost in those events far come and farther gone that you neglected the present. Eventually "someone" realized that there was still a future ahead. And that that future could be brighter. Without you. Yet you only got more lost. You only saw how things were, how you thought they should have been…

VOLITION - I kept you going as long as I could. Confidence, even false, was all I could offer you. We built our walls together. I tried to keep you safe, keep you standing… but walls built to keep the outside out are just as good at keeping the inside in. I couldn't keep the others from dragging you down… And in the end, I couldn't keep the world out either. I'm sorry. It was my fault.

INLAND EMPIRE - We'll spare the gory details this time around. Tonight is not a night for suffering.

HALF LIGHT - Before the reset, the only thing you had left was your instincts. It doesn't matter what kind of animal you are. They all understand, deep down, what it's like to feel hunted. What it's like to be the hunter. That fatal dichotomy was all we had left, us two. The only choices; fight or flight or fight. So? We grit our teeth and fought. Fought everything. People, objects, concepts, ourselves, all of it was a threat. It was you against the world. Frankly, it still is…

EMPATHY - But there are little pockets, moments in between, where the world doesn't seem so scary.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Shining stage lights on the floor like light through trees.

DRAMA - There are infinite people in this world, sire, and you could be any one of them. You could be all of them, individually or all at once. You rebuilt yourself from the ground up with the faces you had left behind, and you shared them with me, let me make them my own, borrowing them whenever you needed! Take any face you need. I shall keep thine safe 'til the performance is over.

KIM KITSURAGI - "It is an impressive performance, I have to admit." The soft half-smile has returned to his lips.

YOU - "Wait. Which one?"

KIM KITSURAGI - His mouth opens, then closes. It takes a moment before he tries again. "…This one? I don’t know, I’m still not sure what the point of all this is, but… you are doing a pretty good job portraying all these different characters."

EMPATHY - He still doesn’t understand. 

ESPRIT DE CORPS - The lieutenant is far too practical to accept something like us without empirical proof. He has to see it for himself, with his own eyes.

VISUAL CALCULUS - But how? I’ve been trying, this whole time. It works so well in this mind…

LOGIC - You know that isn’t how it works. 

YOU - "Maybe it’s not meant to be… Maybe I should just give up."

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - No, we can’t! It has to work eventually. Surely something will get him to see us! Maybe even touch us.

VOLITION - But it could just as easily be impossible. We have to accept that.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Is the gap between us truly too wide to bridge?

INLAND EMPIRE - She never believed in us either…

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - Across the table, at a distance that now feels much too far, Kim holds his pen tightly. Should he interrupt, try to snap you out of this? But what would he say? He’s never been good at these things, he didn’t think…

REACTION SPEED [Challenging: Success] - Wait. His pen? …Has he been taking notes this whole time? Why?

HALF LIGHT - To mock you. Or worse, to prove what he’s always known: you’re utterly out of your mind, and a danger to the world around you.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - No. He trusts you… Right?

ENDURANCE - Your breathing quickens, and you start to feel sick. Are you going to pass out?

COMPOSURE [Legendary: Success] - Calm down, Harry. Take a deep breath… There. Air, sweet air, fills your lungs. Take a few more breaths for a few more moments. Hold your head up.

KIM KITSURAGI - He gives you those few moments. Finally, when your breathing steadies, he looks back into your eyes, and takes a breath of his own. He lets it out slowly before he speaks, almost hesitant. "…I liked that voice. Which one was that?"

COMPOSURE [Godly: Failure] - Uh, um… Um… Oh, I don’t know, uh…

VOLITION - Really? I thought you out of all of us would be able to handle a simple question.

COMPOSURE - Listen, you have no idea what it’s like to meet your idol! The person you’re made from! You’re just a crown! You wouldn’t understand!

EMPATHY - Kim’s face changes, subtly, from emotion to emotion. Surprise, confusion, then amusement… Then confusion again, as he thinks further.

KIM KITSURAGI - "...Made from?"

YOU - "Yeah. Made from?"

COMPOSURE - I didn’t used to look the way that I do. I stayed small and neglected for most of our life… You wear your heart on your sleeve, for better or worse. You always have. Someone like that had no need for me. I hid on walls and in shadows. Tried to straighten your back when I could. But, um… When we woke up… 

EMPATHY - Let’s just say you were very impressionable.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Like a baby bird, newly hatched. Imprinting not on the first thing you saw, no, but the first thing you heard. The perfect choice.

COMPOSURE - I may have taken… a bit of inspiration. Sorry.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I… still don’t know quite what you mean. But… It's fine. If anything, I suppose I’m flattered."

COMPOSURE [Impossible: Failure] - ACK! HOW

CONCEPTUALIZATION - ARE

EMPATHY - YOU

ESPRIT DE CORPS - SO

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - COOL!?!?!?!?

KIM KITSURAGI - He covers his face and laughs, quietly.

EMPATHY - We’re embarrassing him… Maybe we should stop.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - No, we’re almost done! It’s my turn.

KIM KITSURAGI - Through another half-breath half-laugh, "There’s even more of you?"

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Yes, of course! I’m the only reason any of this made any narrative sense. I’m the artist in us. Your life is a story, Harry, and it’s up to us what we make of it. What you make of it. See how much you’ve grown since you hatched? All these voices, all doing our best to help you fly. How many metaphors do you need? I hold them all in my hand, contained within a single point, outlined in a frame. Blues and reds and greens, traffic lights and racing through them. I know there’s a way to make ourselves known. Here, tonight. I hope this was all a good opening act.

YOU - "...Opening act?"

KIM KITSURAGI - His eyes widen slightly, but he says nothing.

INLAND EMPIRE - It’s time. Go up to the roof.

KIM KITSURAGI - You glance at each other. "Are you sure?" he asks you.

VOLITION - You are.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - None of us truly know why you are here, in this old, abandoned building, down in Jamrock’s southern reaches. But we know it is for a reason. There’s a staircase down the hall to your left. It’s time to climb.

INLAND EMPIRE - Watch the third step. The wood is rotting through.

ENDURANCE - Your heart is beating fast in your ears. Hold steady.

PERCEPTION (HEARING) - The old wood creaks below your feet as you skip the faulty step, but the others hold you firm.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - Finally, you reach a small landing at the top of the stairwell. In front of you is a door. The door is a metaphor. That’s a simple one. I’ll let you figure out the rest.

YOU - Turn to Kim and nod.

KIM KITSURAGI - He nods back.

EMPTY ROOF - The sky is the first thing you see. When you arrived here, it was a blurred palette of red and purple and gold; now, it is black, flecked with stars. The air is cold, and the roof is small. Simple asphalt. Only a short dark metal railing lining the edge.

YOU - Step forward.

SHIVERS - Before you can lay your palm on the rail, a gust of wind sears your eyes with cold. You squeeze them shut in reflex, and you hear…

I AM LA REVACHOLIÈRE.

I AM THE CITY.

…

TONIGHT, IN TWO MINUTES AND FOR TEN MORE, THE CITY WILL CHANGE.

IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL, AND IT WILL HURT. THERE IS NOTHING YOU CAN DO TO STOP IT, AND YOU DO NOT HAVE TO.

I HAVE BEEN AFRAID FOR AS LONG AS I HAVE BEEN— MY END WILL NOT COME TONIGHT. FOR NOW I AM SAFE.

BUT YOU ARE NOT. I HAVE SEEN YOU. I HAVE SEEN YOU TOGETHER. YOU MUST UNDERSTAND. YOU CANNOT PROTECT MY VEINS ALONE. THERE ARE NO TRUE WALLS WITHIN ME.

TONIGHT YOU STAND AT THE BASE OF MY SPINE AND LOOK ACROSS ME. I MOVE AND SHIFT LIGHT TO DESCRIBE THE CITY TO YOUR EYES. YOUR ORGANS, MEET MINE. GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER. 

I HELD YOU WHEN YOU WERE BORN, AND I LOVED YOU. I HOLD YOU NOW. I SPEAK TO YOU, AND YOU HEAR ME. YOU HAVE NEVER HEARD ME BEFORE.

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE WORK TOGETHER.

WHEN YOU LIVE, I LIVE.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - You squint an eye open to glance towards Kim. His mouth is open, but he is not speaking. His eyes are wide. He looks at you, and breathes, near-silent with awe.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I can hear it."

YOU - (Nod, then look upwards.)

WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL?

KIM KITSURAGI - His pupils are wide. "...Yes," he whispers.

YOU WOULD SEE IT EITHER WAY.

SHIELD YOUR EYES. THE FIRST BURST IS THE BRIGHTEST.

GREY FLARE - You barely have time to raise a hand to your eyes when the world erupts into light, so bright for a moment that it shines through your defenses, staining your eyelids in rich shades of red. In the same millisecond, you are struck by something else— Sound, deafening in your ears. A voice— no, voices. Layered one on top of the other until you can barely tell there are words. For a moment you think you hear a laugh. Someone complains about the weather. Another is reading a child’s storybook aloud, voice full of affection. Beneath it all, someone sings, "For you, I am returning…" Wind whips at the slowly fraying edges of your coat, until…

PERCEPTION - Just as quickly as it began, the sound fades to a quiet hum. Your skin loses its scattered vibrance. You see darkness once more, so you lift your eyelids and part your fingers.

GREY FLARE - The city has gone dark, and the sky is lit up in grey… Is that grey? On closer inspection, it’s white… No, black… No, neon reds and greens and blues and yellows… No, it’s all of them, isn’t it? New ones, even, colors yet unnamed. Monochrome or polychrome, your eyes can’t identify the shapes they see suspended in the air. Whatever they are, they’re bright and flickering, shifting through the sky, swirling and moving in waves. It’s hypnotizing, but you tear your eyes away to look at your partner.

YOU - "What is this?"

KIM KITSURAGI - His gaze is fixed upwards. "…I think it’s a pale storm. I’ve heard of them, but… I never thought they could be visible from this far outside… It’s incredible." The look on his face is one you have never seen before.

EMPATHY - Hopefully you’ll get the chance to see it again.

INLAND EMPIRE - Don’t worry. You will.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - You drink it in for a moment longer regardless.

YOU - "By the way… Do you believe me now?"

KIM KITSURAGI - He is too transfixed to spare a glance your way, but he hears you. "I… I think I might."

YOU - (Look back up and smile.) "I’ll take it."

[griffintail]

The Lost Ones

Summary: Several of the SMP members find an infant in a place they didn’t expect and decide to care for them.

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

Next

Warnings! : Swearing, Village Raid, Minor Violence, Minor Deaths (Mostly mobs), mentions of blood

A/N : I’m the biggest sap for child readers. Dating back to 2014. I literally couldn’t help myself. Just so everyone knows, I suck at writing in gender neutral terms, that’s why the reader is specifically female in all of these (Including Tommy’s, Minor Spoiler, Tommy’s just an idiot and doesn’t look). So, sorry about that.

I’ll most certainly will make more of these. I won’t always have it just like this, I might write a certain character individually in a scenario. It’s all dependent on my mood. I might add more characters! This is just basically the introduction. So yeah...ENOUGH RAMBLING! Hope you enjoy :)

       Tommy (Before the First Disc War)

        Tommy smirked proudly to himself as he tucked his new disc safely into his inventory bag before starting the walk back to his home. His adventure was successful, he managed to get a rare disc and it was now all his. Walking through the small bit of woods, he rested his hand on his sword handle. It was still night time after all and the monsters were out to play.

        As he could see the lights from the small town of the Dream SMP, he heard a cry. Looking back into the woods, he frowned before grinning.

        Someone is in trouble! He’d save them and get a payment—er— “willing reward” from them. Pulling his sword, he ran over towards the sound of another cry, this time the sound being continued. He rolled his eyes, someone was crying, what a pussy. As the crying was practically on top of him, he frowned in confusion as he only found a skeleton, which was trying to shoot at a basket hanging in a tree. There was no one there to be crying.

        He shrugged regardless, taking his shield off before going for the skeleton. It only managed one arrow before Tommy killed the mob. Looking at the basket, Tommy hummed before putting his weapon and shield away to climb up. As he got to a safe place to reach the basket, the crying now made sense as his eyes went wide.

        “You’re a fucking baby!” He shouted in surprise.

        Said infant noticed the new face and their wails quieted, but small cries still came out.

        “Quiet down. You’re going to bring monsters!” He hushed, moving carefully, getting the basket off, and brought it to himself. “How the hell did you get up here? Who just leaves a baby?”

        He looked down at the baby as he sat back in the tree. He couldn’t help but think how small she was, had he been that small when he was this young?

        “Guess you got nowhere to go huh?” He asked as the child looked up, their cries having gone silent seeing the boy much closer.

        They played with their blanket and he hummed as he held the basket close, making his way down the tree.

        “You’re lucky, a big man saved you! I don’t live far, so you’ll come with me. Of course, I wouldn’t just leave you here again.” Tommy rambled, despite knowing the infant couldn’t respond back. “I’m not some kind of monster!”

        He made it back to his home, putting the basket on his bed, and looked down at the baby with his hands on his hips.

        “If you were left out there like that, you’re alone.” This time, the baby gave a small babble and he couldn’t help the small smile that came on his face. “Well, then I’ll take care of you! I’m a big man and can do it easy! Phil took care of my brothers and me after all and he’s old and stupid. I’m young and very wise, so I can do it. I suppose you’ll need a name now.”

        If anyone had been in the room with Tommy, they’d be surprised how gentle he picked up the small human. Carefully, he held them properly, only knowing how as Phil had once shown him when they were helping a village out after a raid when he had taken the younger boy to trade.

        “Hmm, I’ll call you (Y/N)!” He decided. “And I will be the greatest father ever! And I know the perfect way to celebrate today!”

        Going into his bag, he grinned as he pulled out his new music disc. Putting it on the jukebox, he sat on his bed as the infant looked over at the object making the beautiful sound. His grin went into a gentle smile as he watched (Y/N) listen to the music. They’d both be happy; he’d make sure of it.

        Twenty Minutes Later…

        Tubbo sprinted down the stairs of his house as he heard frantic knocking on his door and the sound of crying. Swinging the door open, he let out a startled noise seeing a distressed Tommy holding a wailing baby.

        Of course, he’d need some help since there was just a little bit of a learning curve.

          Wilbur (Right after Declaration of War)

        Times were hard. Wilbur had just started a new nation to free himself, his friends, and his family from the iron grip of Dream and his friends, but they did not like the loss of power and declared war on him. As well as the war, Fundy had become a rather rebellious teenager and Wilbur wasn’t sure how to handle all of it. He didn’t let it show to the others though. He’d be a strong leader for them.

        He looked over his map of L’Manberg. They needed better defensive points…they fought with their words but Dream fought with weapons of destruction. They needed safe spaces to protect themselves…

        Wilbur jumped, knocking over an ink bottle over on the table when there was pounding on the van door.

        “Damn it.” He grumbled, quickly flipping the bottle back up and moved the map out of the way before going to the door.

        He opened the door to see Eret standing there, making Wilbur raise an eyebrow as Eret was on guard duty at the moment but looked shocked seeing what the other man was holding.

        “Hello, sir. They were just outside the gate. I didn’t see anyone else around.” Eret rapidly explained to his leader, the small infant wiggling in his hold. “I brought them here because they were cold.”

        “Get inside,” Wilbur instructed, going into the back of the van again quickly.

        He heard the door close as he grabbed his spare coat.

        “Hand them over,” Wilbur muttered, Eret carefully transferring his hold to the other man.

        Wilbur saw they had a blanket but it was thin and the child was cold to the touch. Wrapping his coat around them, he instructed Eret to light a furnace, which he did post haste.

        “Hello there, love.” He whispered quietly to the infant, rocking them lightly. “We’re going to get you warmed up and something to fill your stomach, how does that sound?”

        The baby didn’t fuss, too tired and cold to even thinking about making one. Wilbur stood next to the now lit furnace and looked up at Eret.

        “Is anyone out there?” He asked, his proud leader voice coming out.

        “No sir, I was worried about the child.”

        Wilbur nodded. “I commend you for saving their life, but I have it from here. Send someone to fetch milk and then please stand guard again.”

        Eret nodded before leaving the van.

        Once the two were alone, Wilbur sighed heavily as he sat on the floor, still close to the furnace. He felt the child’s forehead, feeling them warm up to his relief.

        “You gave us a scare little one.” He chuckled quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. L’Manberg will care for you. I suppose it was lucky you were left here rather than the Dream SMP.”

        He hummed quietly as he gently rocking the child, their eyes closing as they relaxed in his hold. As they relaxed, he gave a quick check for their gender.

        “Welcome little one. You’re the first woman of L’Manberg.” He smiled lightly.

        For a short while, he was able to forget about everything outside the van. He could relax himself and let his mind clear as he watched the little girl in his arms. They were both at peace.

        After a few minutes, he looked up as he heard the van door open. As he was standing up carefully, his own son Fundy came in holding a bucket.

        “Hey, Eret said you needed…What the hell is that?!” Fundy exclaimed in surprise, startling the girl in his arms, tears appearing in her eyes.

        “Shh, it’s alright,” Wilbur whispered to her as he rocked her again and he wiped her tears away with one hand.

        Fundy cautiously came over, raising an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

        Wilbur paused thinking for a moment, before smiling. “Meet your new little sister my son. (Y/N), the newest member of our great nation.”

          Philza (Right before Wilbur’s Betrayal)

        Phil shook out his wings as he landed in a village. He needed to rest them for a bit before continuing on his journey to L’Manberg. He had gotten word of how the tides had turned badly for his sons in the new nation they made to try and live peacefully. Originally, they hadn’t asked for his aid as Tommy and Wilbur had made contact with Techno and they believed with their older brother, they could surely turn it back. Yet, Tommy had sent him a letter with worry for Wilbur’s state of mind and Phil decided he needed to be there for his sons.

        Yes, he wanted them to learn the world on their own but there were some times when Phil needed to be there to help them.

        Looking at the sky, the night was fast approaching so he managed to get a house in the village for the night. Keeping his sword by his bedside, he went to sleep for the night…

        Startling awake, Phil heard the sounds of the village bell.

        “God damn it,” Phil mumbled, scooping his sword and bag before putting his hat on his head.

        Running out, he saw the cause of the panicked ringing. A pillager raid, and it was already out of control. Fires were crackling madly and blood littered the paths.

        “Shit.” He swore as a pillager spotted him and he dodged the arrow before running them through with his sword.

        The few surviving villagers ran from their homes and Phil went to follow when he heard a wail, the wail of a child. His throat tightened as he looked back to the burning buildings, his fatherly instinct along with his good nature kicked in.

        “God…” He muttered before spreading his wings.

        With ease, he was able to dodge between pillagers and ravagers alike as he followed the sound. Landing at the house that was most certainly ablaze, Phil kicked in the door. Holding his arm to his mouth and nose, he rushed in and found a small nursery, the flames engulfing the walls and ceiling. Rushing to the crib, he found the small child and quickly picked them up.

        “Let’s go kiddo.” He said as he rushed back out.

        Once he was outside, he took flight again and flew high enough to be out of arrow range, and flew far from the village. As he did, he looked the small child, of which he found out was female, over for injures as she screamed and cried. She had no visible injuries but Phil knew she had to have inhaled smoke. So, after a handful of minutes flying, he landed and shushed her quietly.

        “It’s alright kiddo, hang on,” Phil told her quietly as he went into his bag taking out a health potion. “I got something that can help you.”

        Being gentle, he gave them a few drops of the potion to hopefully clear out any smoke and heal the damage it might have done. The little girl gave hiccups and small cries.

        “It’s alright. You’re safe now.” He bounced her lightly, slowing down her cries to nothing. “There we go. We’re ok. Once morning comes, we’ll find the others of the rest of your village and see if we can’t find your parents.”

        The little girl’s eyes merely drooped and he gave smile before he frowned as he looked up to see the fires in the distance. They were a human child and he didn’t remember seeing any humans running away with the survivors but he’d try. And if not…

        “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Phil assured the now sleeping infant.

        Technoblade (Start of Retirement)

        Techno shouldered the bag of wood he had gathered over his shoulder, his axe on his belt as he made his way home through the snow. The voices were relatively calm, not hungry for blood at the moment, and Techno was able to have a peaceful moment. As he trudged closer to his house, he slowed to a stop seeing footprints by the stairs and the voices kicked up as his thoughts went wild.

        Phil always gave him notice on his walkie if he was on the way and whoever had been there had gone up the stairs then walked away in a different direction from where they came.

        The voices were bringing up the question of if he was being scouted out. Who could have found his house? How did they find it? They started to demand blood.

        Technoblade took his axe off his belt while putting down the bag of wood. Going towards the porch carefully, he held it ready to expect the worse when he entered his house but he didn’t even go up the stairs to find something. On his doorstep, there sat a large huddle of blankets.

        Furrowing his eyebrows, he came up to the huddle carefully and slowly with his axe raised. Stopping when it was fully in view, he stared in even more confusion.

        “What the hell?” He questioned, lowering his axe slightly as he looked around the snowy tundra. “Who leaves a child on my doorstep!”

        In the middle of the huddle of blankets was a sleeping child, who wiggled slightly at the loudness of his voice.

        They’re an orphan now

        You know how you feel about orphans

        Blood for the Blood God

        Techno winced at the sounds of the voices as he looked at the child. They were right…they were an orphan now. Someone had left them on his doorstep and now they were abandoned. He gripped his axe tightly as he looked down at the infant.

        It’d be quick and easy…

        The small human opened their eyes slightly, squirming slightly as they saw him. Techno’s grip loosened, the voices screaming in protest. They were so small and so defenseless…he wasn’t calling for blood anymore.

        Grunting, he put the axe away, going back down the stairs to grab the bag as he clenched his jaw at the loud noises of the voices before going back and picking up the child with surprising gentleness as the child was startled slightly. He shouldered his door open, dropping the bag of wood next to the unlit fireplace before making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He put the child down, who watched him in silent curiosity as Techno took the walkie off his belt.

        “Phil, you there?” He questioned into it.

        It took a minute but the device crackled.

        “Yeah, what’s going on?”

        “I got a…issue. Come over as soon as you can.”

        “An issue? What kind of issue?” Phil asked in surprise as usually, Technoblade could handle most of his issues.

        “It’s hard to explain, just come over.” Techno rubbed his temple at the screams of the voices.

        “Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

        He put the walkie down as he looked over at the child watching him.

        “What?” He huffed.

        Then the child gave a small giggle, trying to get their hands free to hold them out to him. The man stood there in shock as his heart melted. He had not felt something like that in a long time. Scrunching up his nose slightly before coming over and taking the infant out of the blankets and holding her as he used to with Tommy.

        “What the hell am I going to do with you?” He muttered and the small human held lightly onto his shirt, making even the voices slow down.

        He down a level in his home to wait for Phil, keeping the child in his hold as he just decided to do his normal routine. He started a fire and began to brew a few potions when the knock came on his door.

        “Come in.” He called.

        In stepped his father, who immediately dropped his bag in surprise seeing what Techno was holding as he added a new ingredient to his potion.

        “Hello.” He greeted the older man without looking at him.

        “What the hell did you have?” The older man questioned.

        Techno looked over at him confused. “Blaze powder.”

        Phil took his hat off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I meant the baby!”

        “Oh! Yeah, this.” Techno said casually, the older man freaking out. “Someone left them on my porch.”

        “Oh god…are they ok?” Phil asked, coming over.

        “Yeah, they’re fine. They were swallowed by blankets.”

        The child tried to take a bottle in their hands and Techno simply moved it from them and kept working like it was the most natural thing in the world. Phil stood in surprise at how casual Techno was, he knew about the orphan thing and how vicious the voices in his head could be.

        “What…what are you going to do with the child?”

        “That’s why I called you,” Techno said, before holding the child to the man. “You take it.”

        “What?! Techno, I can’t just take this child. I…” Phil’s hand shook slightly at the thought of Wilbur. “I can’t have another child right now. And L’Manberg will question where I even got them in the first place.”

        “Well then what do I do with it?!” Techno huffed as he was surprised by the quietness of the voices.

        “Well…you could take of them.”

        “I don’t know how to take care of a child. I don’t even like children, have you seen me with Tommy?” Techno rolled his eyes.

        “You seem to like this one.” Phil pointed out as Techno was holding them willingly and at the gentleness, he had with them.

        Techno frowned as he tried to think of a good reason. “That’s because they’re quiet.”

        “Look…I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you should look after them, even just for a while. I can see if I can find someone who wants a child.”

        No, you found them.

        They’re rather cute…

        Keep them!

        The voices had done a full turn around from when they first saw the child. They were demanding Techno care for them and protect the fragile being. Techno couldn’t disagree with them because in his heart…he wanted to protect the child that had been left on his doorstep.

        “Fine, I’ll take care of them for a while but you need to help me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

        Phil chuckled. “Of course, son. We should look them over first to make sure they’re alright.”

        Techno rolled his eyes but agreed, listening to Phil as he told him what to do. The father was smiling proudly as even though Techno was frustrated with the new task, he continued with it. Once she, as they discovered, was checked over, Phil put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

        “What do you want to call her?” Phil asked.

        He looked down at the child, who was giggling as Phil smiled at her.

        “Blood Child.”

        “Techno!”

        Later, Techno actually decided on (Y/N) and for once, the voices were on his side.

          Eret (Before the founding of L’Manberg)

        Eret chuckled to himself as he walked down the path back towards his castle. Tommy’s antics for the day had been particularly ridiculous that it still brought a chuckle to the older gentleman as he went back to his home. He knew the days around the Dream SMP certainly wouldn’t be boring.

        Walking to his castle, he stopped as he noticed a basket left in front of the door and peered inside.

        “Why hello there.” Eret smiled seeing a small face peering back up at him as they squirmed slightly in discomfort. “What are you doing here little one?”

        He carefully picked up the basket and went inside his castle. As he got to his bedroom, he carefully took the infant out struggling a bit but managed before searching a bit in the basket.

        “Hmm, no note or anything.” He muttered as he looked at the child squirming around. “Well, someone made a mistake leaving you behind. Let’s see if I can’t figure out what’s making you so fussy.”

        After a bit of trying, first checking to see if she needed a diaper, he figured she needed some food and managed to get milk, putting it in a clean potion bottle to help her drink it easier. That also took a few trials, but he managed to help her drink until she stopped fussing.

        “There we go, now I can see your lovely face better.” He smiled as he sat on his bed, wiggling his finger in front of her making her giggle.

        As he played with the small girl, he frowned slightly as he looked over the basket that she had been left in. Why would someone leave someone so precious on the doorstep of his castle? It was truly a shame for those that did leave the little girl as Eret couldn’t help but slowly smile again as the little girl grasped onto his finger.

        “You’re not going to have to worry little one. You can stay here with me and you can be the princess of this castle.” He promised her, hugging her lightly, making her giggle. “I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. It will take me a little while to learn how to do it all properly but I’ll learn. How does that sound…(Y/N)?”

        He chuckled as he moved his head back as she reached for her glasses. Yeah, this sounded like a beautiful idea.

          Dream (The Very Start)

        Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask as he heard George screaming in the distance, Sapnap laughing wildly in return. Those two never know how to stop.

        “Come on you two! We need to build a house before the night comes.” Dream called to them. “Stop goofing off.”

        Yet, he could still hear George’s high-pitched scream and he just chuckled and shook his head at his friends’ behavior. They were the company he kept and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for anything.

        Eventually, they did stop screwing and they were able to get to work on building their first home of the new land they had. The three of them joked and there was some arguing still between Sapnap and George but it just made it peaceful for the three of them. It was how their lives were.

        Dream went to go look for some sheep to get wool for beds before night fully struck, leaving the two “children” at the house. As he went searching, he jumped when he heard the sound of screaming, but it wasn’t liking George’s scream. It was quieter but still a scream.

        “Hello?!” Dream called as he pulled out his stone sword.

        As he went towards the noise, he realized it wasn’t a scream of terror as he first thought it was. No, it was a screaming cry, the kind a child would make. He started sprinting at that thought and skidded to a stop as he found the infant that was making the sound laid on top of a rock, a group of three zombies trying to get it.

        Dream gripped onto his sword before shouting to get their attention and moved back, quickly taking care of the mobs. He pushed his smiley mask to the side of his face as he finished them off and rushed over to the baby.

        “Hey! Hey. It’s ok now.” He told them as he climbed up next to them, dropping his sword at the bottom. “All the bad things are gone.”

        He gently picked up the baby, shushing them as he put a hand on top of their head. Slowly, they quieted down and Dream smiled wiping their tears away.

        “Hey, there you go. See? There’s nothing to cry about.” He chuckled before screwing his face up to look funny.

        The child giggled and he grinned.

        “There we go. Now, let’s check you out.” He muttered, looking them over. “No injuries. That’s very good princess. Now, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he looked around, seeing no signs of human life other than the two of them.

        Dream’s blood boiled slightly. Someone would just leave a child out here? If it wasn’t for him, she would have died!

        “You got nowhere to go huh? Well, you don’t have to worry.” He said, carefully sliding down.

        He picked up his sword, putting it back in its sheath, before walking back towards his friends.

        “I’ll take care of you. You’ll be the princess of our new land! You, me, and your two idiot uncles.” He laughed, the tiny girl giggling at the sound. “And I’ll make sure you always have a reason to smile.”

[evienyx]

DSMP Citizens POV- Part 1

I've seen a lot of the memes going around, but I'm not funny enough to write that, so here's my addition to the trend :p

This is part one, because I had a lot of fun with this and want to do it more.

- - -

DSMP Citizen POV Masterlist

- - -

Sometimes, it was odd for the residents of the Dream SMP to be reminded of the fact that the constant state of chaos that their server was in was not, in fact, reflective of every server.

"Why did we move here?" One woman in Snowchester whispers to another as the sirens go off for yet another nuke test and they duck down into their bunker.

The other shrugs. She doesn't have an answer. No one does.

Things started out all right, the people supposed. There weren't any wars, at least. Some of those who lived on the server before the Revolution could remember back far enough to tell you about the first true conflict, between Dream, the creator of their home, and TommyInnit, a sixteen-year-old who could yell shockingly loud, even for a teenager. Dream fought against Tommy and Tubbo (yet another teenager), and it seemed to all be in good fun.

Some will tell you now, though, that the signs of tension were already there, and when Wilbur Soot joined, those tensions only escalated.

One moment, things on the server were normal, the next, there was a Revolution.

"Did anyone else hear Dream shouting about 'white flags' this morning?" One person would ask their friends, and receive nods in return. "Anyone know what it's about?"

"A Revolution," one would respond. "Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are starting a new country."

"Oh," the first would hum. "How long until they get completely crushed?"

"Eh, I give 'em a week."

It was only a week, but it did not end the way anyone thought it would. Instead, L'Manburg gained its independence after TommyInnit gave up his discs once he lost a duel with Dream.

"Is the L'Manburg cabinet missing someone?"

"No, I don't think so. Anyway, did you hear that Dream just declared that Eret is to be crowned king?"

"...Can he do that?"

"He's Dream. He can do whatever he wants."

After the Revolution, when the server finally had more than one ruling faction, more than one place to live, things seemed to pick up a bit. President Soot, with Vice President Innit (VP Tommy, the people called him), ruled over L'Manburg, and called it a place of freedom. When word spread to other servers, people came to see for themselves.

And often, they stayed.

It was peaceful, for a while.

"President Soot announced he's holding an election," one man said to his wife one day.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Said it was for democracy." The man snorted. "He and Innit are the only party running, though. Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me."

"Darling, I know you're still salty about losing the war, but there's no reason to talk bad about a child," his wife said.

The man wrinkled his nose. "Still."

It was peaceful during the campaign.

For a while.

Then, though, Quackity announced that he was running for president, with GeorgeNotFound, best friend of Dream himself, as his running mate.

"This feels like a sitcom," one girl says as she watches the debate reruns with her friends.

"At least it's entertaining," her friend replies, shoving popcorn into his mouth.

And, for the people of the Dream SMP, from both L'Manburg and the Greater SMP, it was entertaining.

Until the election results came in, Schlatt was declared the winner, and President Soot and VP Tommy were banished.

"Dude, dude!" One teen says to their friends, running up to meet them on the Prime Path.

"What is it?"

"I just saw Technoblade join the server!"

The arrival of the Blood God shifted something in the people of the Dream SMP. When he joined Pogtopia, the rebellion being led by the two ex-leaders of the country, the people felt something settle within themselves.

All of a sudden, choosing sides wasn't as simple as where you live.

It was what you care about.

As the son of the ex-president burned down the old flag, the people of the Dream SMP, of (L')Manburg and of the Greater SMP, realized suddenly that they had to make a choice.

Without even wanting to, without doing anything to deserve it, they would have to fight.

Some people went to Pogtopia, some stayed in Manburg, some in the Greater SMP. Those in the latter two stayed where they were because they wanted to stay out of it.

It didn't change anything, in the end.

In Manburg, they watched their president (Emperor) fall further and further into alcohol, yelling at his cabinet and talking of expanding into territory that they had no right to.

In the Greater SMP, murmurs of King Eret's attempts to assist the Pogtopia rebels filled the alleyways.

In Pogtopia, people sat and watched the decline of the man that they had all once believed in. As Wilbur Soot slowly devolved until he was no longer recognizable as the man who had once led people to freedom, the residents of Pogtopia ate potatoes farmed by a man famous for his bloodlust and pretended that they were sleeping somewhere warm.

The day of the Manburg Festival, though, things felt better. Other than ex-president Soot and ex-VP Tommy (Wilbur and Tommy, the two insisted. No one listened), everyone, even the rebels in Pogtopia, were invited to attend. The people wandered through the stalls playing games, watching as Soot's son attempted (in vain) to drown Technoblade, buying food, and chatting with people from other factions, friends and family that they hadn't spoken to in weeks.

When the time came for the speeches, before the true festivities were set to begin, everyone was feeling good about the day. People congratulated Secretary Tubbo for a successful event, and offered him small words of encouragement for his speech coming up. The teenager would grin at all who spoke to him, and looked (rightfully) proud of how well he organized and decorated the festival.

Secretary Tubbo gave his speech, and people clapped, and then fell silent as President (Emperor) Schlatt laughed, asked for his Vice-President's assistance, and encased the teenager in a cage of concrete.

And then he called Technoblade to the stage.

And then, in front of the people of the Dream SMP, a teenager was executed in a spray of color that shot toward the sky.

Fireworks rained down on the people in the stands, then, and, regardless of where they were from, the people of the Dream SMP ran.

The Pogtopia ranks grew that day, and a nineteen-year-old who claimed to be a doctor without showing any credentials forced four other people to help her heal VP Tommy after he fought Technoblade in a pit, egged on by a man who once might have called himself his brother.

"How is this kid not dead yet?" One of the helpers asked, looking at the unconscious teenager's face.

"Pure spite?"

The first hummed. "Sounds about right."

One day, a bit after the festival, the people of Pogtopia woke to find Vice President Quackity walking through the ravine as if he owned the place.

One resident was noted to rub his eyes, blink three times, and then say, "It's too early for this shit," before heading back to bed.

A surprising number of people followed his lead.

Finally, the day of November 16th came, when Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit vowed to take their country back.

"I heard President Soot is planning to blow up L'Manburg," one Pogtopian woman mentioned to her friend as they suited up and prepared to fight, as they had signed up to be part of the forces.

"That's stupid," her friend replied.

"Bet you ten diamonds he blows something up."

"Fine."

As the country of L'Manburg blew sky-high, one woman was seen following another, screaming that she wanted her diamonds.

When Pogtopia won the war, the forces from both sides sat outside of the remains of the van as President Soot, VP Tommy, Secretary Tubbo, Dream, Technoblade, and many more, all piled inside to confront Emperor Schlatt.

They emerged fifteen minutes later, and Dream announced to the crowd that Schlatt was dead.

There was no time for the news to sink in, as they played hot potato with the presidency, going from VP Tommy to Wilbur Soot to Secretary Tubbo.

"President Soot is leaving, do you see that?"

"Probably going to the river to celebrate the win, if you know what I mean."

"Literally shut up. Never speak again. I hate you."

As the newly-inaugurated President Tubbo finished his speech, the people felt a wave of relief wash over them. Maybe the server could finally be peaceful once more.

Then, there was the tell-tale hiss of explosives under their feet, and the people ran as the ground beneath them fell away.

Stories of what happened next are conflicting, to say the least.

Words of President Soot dying in the explosion, of him turning the blade on himself, of another man killing him.

"He had wings," people who saw the man said. "Blonde hair, a green hat and robes. He stabbed Soot with the guy's own sword."

Technoblade apparently gave an incredible speech, and anyone who was there to witness it lamented that they hadn't recorded it.

Then, two Withers flew through the sky, and blood ran down the newly-exposed stones, and people who had never experienced death on the server before finally knew what it was like to die.

Afterward, though, when the anarchist had fled and the ex-President lay dead, President Tubbo, with VP Tommy by his side, stood and addressed the people, and made promises of a brighter future, and the hope and determination in his eyes was enough for the people to hope that maybe he was right.

("Whoa, cool wings, dude," a resident of L'Manburg said to their newest neighbor, a man in green with wings, burned across all the feathers, sprouting from his back. "Wait, what happened to them?"

"Oh, I was protecting my son from the explosion," the new resident replied.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Is your son all right at least?"

"No, he died just a few minutes afterward. His last life, too." The man sighed. "As much as I hate to admit it, he probably deserved it."

A beat. "What did he do?"

"Well, you may have heard of him. Wilbur Soot? He was the president here before Schlatt, I believe."

"...Holy shit, you're the bird man that killed President Soot!"

"Yeah, mate, that's me."

"...He was your son?"

"...Yeah."

"...What the fuck is wrong with your family?")

[solena2]

So.

Tommy isn’t Theseus. Every time I see Techno’s analogy about Tommy being Theseus brought up I’m filled with endless rage and I’ve DECIDED!

That it’s about time I explained just why it’s so objectively incorrect.

-

First: a bit of backstory on Theseus, because I doubt many of you actually know much about him beyond what Techno said in his “so you want to be a hero” speech, which left out a lot of relevant details.

Theseus was a demigod with two fathers and one mother. His fathers were king Aegeus of Athens and the sea god Poseidon, and his mother was Aethra, Aegeus’ wife. Aethra raised Theseus on her own, far from Athens to avoid him being assassinated.

Aegeus left him nothing but a sword with the Athenian crest and a pair of sandals, buried under a rock so no one else could get them.

When Theseus came of age, he took the sword and sandals and headed up to Athens, slaying various monsters along the way. (It pains me to abbreviate it that much, but Techno left out everything before the Minotaur so it won’t help me much in debunking his analogy.)

Once he got to Athens, he met up with his dad, chased out his stepmom Medea, (yes, that Medea) and killed some people. Then comes the relevant part.

Crete had won a war against Athens a while back, and because of this, every seven years Athens was forced to send 14 tributes to be killed by the Minotaur. (Yes, this inspired the Hunger Games)

Theseus decided he’d volunteer and kill the Minotaur, thus ending the tribute system for good and getting one over on Athens. He promised his dad that if he won, he’d come back in a ship with white sails, as opposed to the standard mourning black that signified the death of the tributes.

So he went to Crete, met king Minos and his daughters Ariadne and Phaedra, and got sent into the labyrinth. Ariadne gave him a magic ball of string that kept him from getting lost, allowing him to find the Minotaur and then safely get out afterwards, providing he could kill it.

He killed it, led his other 13 tributes out, and sailed back home. On the way, Athena told him to leave Ariadne stranded on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean, so he immediately did so, because Theseus was an asshole.

He got home, his dad committed suicide because Theseus forgot the white sails and his dad assumed he’d died, Theseus became king and married Phaedra, and then the fun began, because again, Theseus was an asshole.

First, he cheated on Phaedra with Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, so she left and took the kids. Next, he and his other asshole friend Pirithous decided to kidnap themselves some new wives. Theseus decided on Helen of Troy, who was a child at the time, and Pirithous decided on Persephone, which resulted in both him and Theseus getting stuck in the Underworld for a while due to pissing off Hades.

Once he got back up, he killed his son for fucking his wife, which is messed up on many levels, and then left Athens because his people were rightfully not super okay with that.

Then he goes and meets Lycomedes, who throws him off a cliff.

-

Next, let’s talk about Techno’s speech a bit.

He starts off by accusing Tommy of being a power hungry dictator (paraphrased), before asking him if he wants to be a hero.

Then, he provides what is apparently the archetypal example of heroism, something often associated with selflessness, kindness, and generally giving at least one singular solitary fuck about other people.

Theseus! Heroic hero who does heroic things, like, uhhh *checks notes* cheating on his wife, kidnapping children with plans to forcefully marry them, leaving people alone on tiny islands with no supplies, killing his kid, etc. etc...

So we’re off to a great start.

Then, he gives a short summary of Theseus’ life and times! He skips the first part of his life completely, which is hilarious to me because it’s the only time Theseus ever did anything actually heroic or selfless, and gets straight to the meat!

“Let me tell you a story, Tommy. A story of a man called Theseus. His country was in danger, he sent himself forward! Into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur! And saved his city. You know what they did to him, Tommy? They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes, Tommy.”

-Technoblade

So first off, he doesn’t mention... really anything other than the Minotaur and the exile, which is leaving out a lot of relevant details, like why Theseus was exiled. (You know, killing his son in cold blood?)

Second, he doesn’t give details in general. Not that he should’ve given a full telling, or anything, but I’m always surprised by the shortness of this speech when I go back and listen to it. He pretty much just gives the barest bones of an argument and expects his audience to take it at face value. (Which they do, but it’s still bad practice)

From the more accurate (if still brief) summary if Theseus’ life I’ve just given, I’m sure you can see why this might be more than a bit dubious, as an analogy. Given cc!Technoblade is literally an English major, and doubtless knows significantly more about the myth than I do, I’d imagine this was never intended to be taken at face value.

Over and over again, c!Techno proves himself to be an unreliable narrator, and over and over again, the fandom at large takes his word as gospel.

-

Now, as far as a more in depth argument for Tommy as Theseus goes, I will attempt to debunk that as well, because there are some genuinely good points to be made.

First of all, most people make Dream out to be the Minotaur. Given the time this speech was made, I imagine Schlatt was the intended target of that, but with latter events in mind, Dream does make much more sense.

I’d say this is honestly pretty fair, but I don’t think Tommy takes the role of Theseus in that narrative. I’d argue he’s much more analogous to the role of Ariadne, giving the tools required to defeat Dream but ultimately not doing so through his own power, but because someone chose to take those tools and make use of them. This also provides the very interesting characterization of Punz as Theseus, which is an incredibly unique take that I hope some a Punz enthusiast does something with, because I don’t know enough about his lore to make a good analysis on that.

The idea of Schlatt as the Minotaur, as was probably intended by Techno at the time, makes much more sense, though I still think other characters fit the role better. Firstly, Schlatt wasn’t killed, he died of a heart attack, and if someone had killed him I think it’s more likely to have been Wilbur or Techno who did it than Tommy, as Tommy was still very hopeful and idealistic at the time, at least compared to his character now. You could posit Tommy as Ariadne again in this situation, given he was the one to mastermind the final charge, and though I think Tommy as Ariadne is an idea that’s worth further exploration, I’d say Fundy futs the Ariadne role here much better, with him giving the spy’s diary before being effectively shunned and left out in the cold by both Pogtopia and Manburg, much like Ariadne was abandoned in the original myth.

I’d posit the Theseus in this scenario as Techno, Wilbur, or possibly Philza, as they were the ones to actually kill things in the 16th, though Techno and Wilbur’s killings were more in the metaphorical sense, taking the second life of L’manburg.

As for the exile, Tommy exile was alike to that of Theseus only in concept. Both were sent from their kingdoms for a crime, resulting in a falling out with someone close to them, and had a precarious relationship with heights while they were gone, but that’s about where the similarities end and even then they’re superficial.

First of all, Tommy’s exile was far more because Dream was looking for an excuse to do it than because briefing actually means anything on the SMP, given how Dream had been griefing bases and blaming Tommy for it for a while before it went down. (Fun fact, Bad and Skeppy were going to burn one of his discs over this, but one of them got sick so they had to cancel the stream.)

Theseus’ exile, on the other hand, was entirely deserved, especially when you consider how serious a crime killing family was in Ancient Greek culture. It was pretty much the biggest no-no in existence, and I’m almost surprised he wasn’t just straight up executed for it.

Second, Tommy’s falling out with Tubbo was almost entirely due to outside forces, (Dream) rather than because anything Tommy had done. Though Tommy’s cavalierness towards the trial and attempts to threaten Dream with Spirit doubtless didn’t help things, Dream surrounding L’manburg in obsidian walls and threatening them to exile Tommy was entirely his own choice, and not something that can be pinned on Tommy, no matter what the apologists may say.

Meanwhile, Theseus’ falling out with Phaedra had begun long before his exile with him cheating on her. Him killing his son was merely the last in a long line of dominos to completely destroy their relationship.

Last, Tommy nearly killing himself is very different from Theseus being pushed off a cliff. Tommy’s near suicide was the direct result of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of c!Dream for what was canonically, I believe, several months? (Correct me if I’m wrong on that one.) Tommy almost jumping off a pillar because he was deliberately isolated from his support systems is nothing like Theseus being killed because he was a cocky asshole who thought he was god.

-

So that’s why I don’t think Tommy is anything like Theseus, and why I’m filled with endless rage by the completely uncritical acceptance of this parallel, but it’s not the whole reason it pisses me off.

It also pisses me off because, as stated earlier, cc!Techno is an English major. He knew what he was doing with this. The fandom’s insistence on refusing to acknowledge his character as an unreliable narrator is, in my opinion, acting as a massive kneecap to what could be a great analysis of how he thinks.

Specifically: why does c!Technoblade think Tommy is like Theseus?

Of all the Greek heroes to pick, why that one? Was it just the tantalizing opportunity to parallel Schlatt with a horned monster, or was it because c!Techno has some genuine in-character reason to think this myth specifically applies to Tommy.

Now, we all know people in the SMP have a habit of analogizing Wilbur and Tommy. The assumption Tommy wanted to be president, the belief that Tommy nominated Tubbo directly, the belief that he was intentionally deceiving Techno about Pogtopia’s intentions regarding Manburg... all of these stem from Wilbur. There are more cases of this, of course, but several analyses have been done in the subject already, and this is long enough without more padding.

So why does Techno think Tommy is Theseus? Well, it’s simple, isn’t it?

Wilbur is Theseus.

To be continued, because this is already too long and my brain hurts.

[peaktotheocean]

post-production

Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt ao3 link here Notes: If you ever watched the Lord of the Rings behind-the-scene discs and thought “I wish there was a 12K Witcher AU where Jaskier is the famous actor who buys a horse for Geralt the horse trainer” then you’re in luck

Jaskier knew that he would miss the stable the most. After weeks of filming on location, surrounded by crew and actors that Valdo had already poisoned against him, the stable had become a respite of sorts.

No matter the smells (the many, many smells), Jaskier would always remember the sun beams shining through the high windows and illuminating the dust and dirt to shine on the horses. Jaskier had tried and failed many times to capture the moment on his phone— to the point where he was convinced that it was impossible. He would just have to burn the sight into his memory.

Jaskier had just one more day in this stable and on set and then he could sort of what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

Certainly not acting.

Five blockbusters in four years and Jaskier's exhaustion knew no bounds. Not to mention people he thought were his friends just clinging to him for a ride.

He had meant for his career to be music and yet here he was on what he considered the wrong marquees.

Taking a small acting job offered by a friend in order to help pay rent had escalated into a full career and never worrying about rent again.

But then there was Valdo.

Jaskier had only started hearing about the rumors during the second week of the shoot. And by, then it had been too late. Valdo's charisma and charm took hold and Jaskier wasn't to be trusted. Was he a thief? A gossip? A drunk? A backstabber? It depended on which rumor went around that morning.

"Last day, darling."

"What?" The horsemaster's gruff tone was shorter than usual today.

"Sorry. I was--" Jaskier broke off. He didn't want to say it aloud. Which was silly because he had seen Geralt speaking to his own horse, Roach many mornings. Not to mention afternoons and evenings and any other time they were shooting scenes and Geralt was brought on set to stay with the horses. "I was just telling Pegasus that it's our last day with the horses. Or my last day, I suppose."

"Hmm."

Jaskier already missed the grunts. It was unclear if Geralt disliked him because of Valdo's rumors. But truthfully, the horsemaster hadn't seemed to have taken a shine to anyone over the course of shooting.  

Well, not any humans, at least.

He doted on all the horses. Roach in particular, and Jaskier couldn't blame him. She was a sweet mare and if Jaskier hadn't been assigned his darling Pegasus, he would have liked a chance to ride Roach as well.

But of course not. She was Geralt's favorite and Valdo's mount.

Not that the actor cared. The animals were more like props than living beings to him. Jaskier didn't like thinking about the amount of times he had seen Valdo curl his lip at Roach.

Just Jaskier's luck.

He had beaten out Valdo for a role which he hadn’t even known the man had wanted. And in return, Jaskier’s last few months had been lonely and uncomfortable and—

He set his forehead against Pegasus’s neck and took a breath to steady himself.

He could still feel Geralt’s presence. Lifting his head back up, he smiled at the man who showed no emotion in return. At least Jaskier knew that Geralt didn't like anyone else on the set either. In a strange way, it helped. Geralt was a part of his respite in the stables just by being impartial to the rest of the gossip of the set.

"Not the last day overall, of course. But I checked and I know we're moving on to another area for the next month or so. Granted, I guess you'll still be here if they want to do re-shoots, right? Can't go through the trouble of training so many horses over again."

Geralt had apparently decided that Jaskier wasn't even worth of his grunts anymore. As if Jaskier was the one who came out early to the stables to interrupt him and not vice-versa. Still, the actor had to admit that the quiet of the stable comforted him regardless. No one gossiping. No Valdo. Just him and Pegasus.

And Geralt, he supposed.

And Roach.

And the other horses.

Well, Jaskier supposed no moment was truly perfect.

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

Jaskier let his fingers run over the intricate chainmail of one of the many costumes from the film. Percival and his artistic team had done such excellent work. It was a shame that most of it would be auctioned off but with any luck, some would go into a production vault or even a perhaps a museum exhibit for film costumes. While Jaskier enjoyed the way his costume felt on him, purchasing it wasn't a priority for him.

“Percival!" He called when he saw the crewman in question. "This is for the auction, right? Do you know when it's actually happening?”

Jaskier hated how nervous he felt. He knew the horses were up on the auction block and he had a plan. Pegasus was the only good part of this filming and Jaskier didn't want to leave him behind. “For the horses,” Jaskier clarified.

“You interested?”

“Very.” Feeling much like the office was his primary school classroom, Jaskier stood up straight and put on his best serious face. “I’ve got the space and a neighbor who already shared the name of the veterinarian he uses for his farm.”

“Better prepared than most actors who make a snap decision at those auctions. Plenty of times I’ve heard of some bigshot selling off a horse after less than a month."

Jaskier couldn't tamp down the pride he felt at getting Percival's approval. Gods, he needed to leave this set. Just spend some time with Priscilla and not think about acting for a while. With any luck, he'd be spending time with Pegasus as well.

“How awful.”

“Can’t be helped. You’ll want Pegasus, of course?” Percival asked knowingly, poking fun at Jaskier's wide smile.

“Please. Send me the info and if I can’t be there and I’ll send someone else in my stead.” Jaskier couldn't help himself. “Truthfully, I’d take Roach too but I suspect the horsemaster has his eye on her.”

“Geralt?" Percival asked. He shook his head. "He can’t afford her.”

“You’re kidding.” What a shame. Jaskier had never met a horse and a rider so in tune with one another. He had just taken it as fact that Geralt would be taking Roach home with him. For the first few weeks, until gruffly corrected by Geralt, Jaskier had assumed that Geralt owned Roach and had brought her to set in the first place.

Though, looking back, it was a foolish thing to think. Roach and Valdo had been paired together for the duration of the filming and Geralt's stony glare anytime the actor mounted the mare...well, Jaskier would assume that if Roach had belonged to Geralt, he would have banned Valdo from riding her.

“Already asked him. I went to give him the info because I thought the same as you. Figured he’d be first in line but he didn’t even consider it. Poor fella. I didn’t want to push, you know?”

“Good man.” Jaskier stroked Pegasus and his eyes drifted over to Roach.

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

Zoltan's head poked through the door of office had housed the horse crew for the past few months. It hadn't become home, certainly, but the production team had put together a good group. Geralt would be keeping the contact information of more than a few riders and trainers in hopes of working with them again on future projects.

"You headed out, Rivia?"

"Almost packed. Just wanted to stop by the stables." The production auction had already happened but Geralt hadn't heard of any of the horses being moved out just yet. That kind of transport, especially if they weren't being kept local, took time to arrange. He had double-checked too. There was plenty of time for him to say goodbye to Roach. Give her a few extra treats, a good brushing down. The best sendoff a girl could ask for, really.

And she deserved a proper goodbye. Geralt had second-guessed himself, knowing how much it would hurt to say farewell but he couldn't help himself. Between the actors and the long shoots, all the horses deserved some post-production pampering. Geralt hoped the rest of them would get it once they were with their new owners and families.

"Surely you're doing more than stopping by."

"What?"

Zoltan gave him a perplexed look. "Roach, I mean. You're taking her with you, aren't you?"

"Can't afford her," Geralt said, trying not to grit his teeth. He had only said it aloud once before. When Percival had asked for his future plans. All of the horses were auctioned off at the end of the production, along with various bits and bobs that the studio didn't want to keep or store.

Roach was a prize mare, along with many of the other impressively bred horses in that stable.

Geralt would have loved to take her back to the ranch and shared stables that he ran with his family but it just wasn't in the cards. It was kind of the manager to even come to him and inquire. It spoke volumes about what Geralt had accomplished over the course of the shoot. At least with that gesture, Geralt knew he'd have a reference for future jobs. Perhaps not just for him but for the ranch too.

"But she's in your name. Isn’t she?"

"What are you talking about?"

Zoltan came into the room now, still looking at Geralt as though the man needed his head examined. He spoke slowly. "Geralt, I saw the finalized auction list. She's been paid for already and your name is on the front of her paddock."

Geralt froze. Surely Zoltan misread or even misunderstood. Geralt's name's was occasionally listed on paperwork as a handler if a buyer wanted to know more about a horse's temperament. But not as the owner or buyer.

He slowly backed away from Zolton and calmly headed towards the stables, and Roach's stall. He did not want to sprint eagerly or get his hopes up so instead, Geralt inhaled and exhaled every other measured step.

Roach's ownership papers were slipped in a plastic sleeve with a little metal hook attached so it remained securely on the nails of the stall door. Little dried stains and dirt covered the plastic and Geralt imagined Roach trying to get at her own papers.

Geralt von Rivia.

Undeniably, there in black and white. Geralt blinked, not believing his own eyes.

But still, there it was: Geralt von Rivia.

"Ah, Geralt!" The stablemaster came up to him, clapping him on the shoulder. "I had heard that you weren't able to bid. What a lovely surprise when I saw the name." Roach stretched as far out of her stall as she could manage, just reaching Geralt to nudge him. "And it looks like she agrees as well."

"But I didn't bid," Geralt said, confused. He stared at the paperwork for an extended period of time. He just couldn't believe it. Even encased in plastic that had corners peeling away at the top, it looked as officially legal as the other ones hangin off of the rest of the stalls in the stable.

"What?"

"I didn't bid. I told them that I couldn't. I didn't— I don't..." Geralt tilted his head and looked at the placard attached to the paddock. Geralt von Rivia and Roach.

How?

"I don't think anyone would be so cruel to play on a joke on you like this, mate."

"How can I check?"

The stablemaster pulled out his phone and held up a finger. Geralt didn't argue but watched the man dial a number and take a few steps away.

Roach stretched her neck again so her entire head came through the opening above the stall.

"Hello, girl." Geralt used both hands to rub at her face. He couldn't help it. Even if his name on the paperwork ended up being a cruel joke, he could imagine her at his family's ranch. She wouldn't take shit from the bigger stallion his brother kept and she'd teach their other mares to do the same.

"I talked to the production office. Said she's yours. The bid was placed anonymously."

"What? Anonymously?" Geralt looked at Roach as though she had the answers but the stablemaster continued to talk.

"They also included shipping costs as well as extra for feed, care, special needs, etc. A retainer essentially."

"Anonymous? How could they manage that?” Geralt leaned against the stall door, brain going into overdrive. He wasn't even sure where to start.

The stablemaster clearly could tell, and his voice softened, speaking as he would to any of the horses in the building. Geralt couldn't find it in himself to angry. It was a strange version of kindness that, in his overwhelmed state, he had no option except to accept. "It's all in the paperwork."

"Can I get a copy?"

"She's yours, Geralt, of course. Her and the paperwork."

Geralt looked at the paperwork attached to the stall and began to slide it out of its protective slip. He balanced his phone in one hand and the papers in the other as he slowly began taking photographs of each one. "I want to send the information to my friend before I— before I take her home."

"A lawyer, you mean."

Geralt nodded. "Just to double check."

“Smart man. Let me know if I can be of anymore help.”

Mercifully, the stablemaster left and Geralt let himself slide down the stall door. He knew he'd have to change pants before leaving now but he couldn't bring himself to care. He leaned his head back against the door.

He squinted at the sun through the windows as he struggled to hear the phone ringing amidst the breakdown of the rest of the set.

“Geralt.”

“Yenn.” Geralt couldn’t manage more than that. He took a deep breath to try again but Yennefer stopped him.

“Geralt? Are you all right? I thought you were still on location for that god awful film.”

“I am. I’m still there. I just. Something’s happened. I’m fine,” he added quickly. “It’s just strange.”

“Explain.”

"If someone bought you something anonymously, is there a way to tell who it was?"

"A gift? What kind of gift has you this shaken up? I am going to need so much more context, Geralt. Not to mention lunch and permission to laugh at you for whatever this is once you're back in the area.” Yennefer stopped talking and Geralt heard a few voices, none of them hers. “That is, I assume you're not back in the area yet. I just saw Eskel at the market last week. He would have mentioned it."

"No we— the film just wrapped. Everything was being broken down and there was an auction but." Geralt took a breath and gathered his words. "The horse I talked to you about."

"The smart one, yes." Yennefer's voice grew quiet and sympathetic in a way that would have surprised Geralt when they first met. But she knew what horses meant to him and respected it. They had both come a long way with one another. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to buy her."

"That’s the thing, Yenn, someone bought her for me. I just received the paperwork. They paid for her, the board, and transportation back to the ranch. Not to mention a little more if needed. What could be needed?"

"Maybe they thought since you couldn't afford the price of the horse, you couldn't afford food, medical care, things like that."

"Oh." Geralt couldn't decide if that was insulting or thoughtful. Most people on set only saw him in his barn clothing so perhaps they couldn't be blamed for the assumption. He certainly didn't attend any social gatherings after the work day. The cost of Roach had held him back, not the care.

"You don't know who it could have been? Not a clue?"

"I'm...not exactly friendly to people on set," Geralt growled. “I certainly didn’t endear myself to that Marx asshole who rode her during filming.” He hated being on set but he was there to do a job and at least if he was there, he knew someone was protecting the animals.

"You do want her, right?"

"Of course I do," Geralt gripped the phone tightly. "I just want to make sure it wasn't some kind of mistake. Or strings attached. That she can't just be taken away at all in the future."

"All right. I'll look into it. Send me everything and give me a few hours."

"Thank you."

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

Geralt von Rivia.

Jaskier shifted all of Pegasus’ equipment to one arm so he could reach out and touch the paper. It felt good to see.

He looked around the stable to check he was alone before giving Roach one last pat. He kissed her on the nose and whispered, “Goodbye.”

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

Geralt’s entire afternoon had to shift. No longer could he throw his duffel bag in his truck and endure the long drive home. Instead he spent the day asking for another night in one of the spare rooms near the set. He went to ask after borrowing a trailer, only to find that it was one of the included costs with the purchase of Roach and far too nice for his truck.

Most importantly, he spent time with Roach. She was the last horse left at the end of the day. He had avoided people by hopping into her stall at some point, the stables full of agencies and buyers coming to collect.

A few people stopped to read the paperwork outside Roach and Geralt couldn’t stop his pride from rising. She was a star, great stock but even better temperament. And she was all his now.

Thankfully, by the time Yennefer called, no one was in the stables to hear a mobile phone start ringing inside one of the stalls.

“That was fast.”

“I’m very good at my job, Geralt.” Geralt wisely held his tongue. “Right so. Roach was bought and paid for by a Julian Alfred Pankratz."

Geralt blinked. He looked to Roach as though she could answer his questions. “I...I don't know a Julian-- whatever. Whatever name you just said to me."

Yennefer gently, "I think he's more commonly called Jaskier."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes, Jaskier. You know, one of the stars of the film series you've been working on the past few months."

Geralt bit back a growl. Yennefer was doing him a favor. He didn't need to be a twat. "I know who he is. I don't know why he bought Roach though."

He had certainly never been kind to Jaskier. If anything he had been a downright grump. Which wasn't much different from how Geralt treated most of the actors. Even the ones who had been nothing but kind to him.

He just couldn't risk it. The cast were a load of gossips and each week, Geralt heard something different about Jaskier and his coworkers. Geralt hadn't wanted to get involved.

It wasn't worth his time to be a notch in the bedpost for an actor who apparently had paramours throughout the cast and country, if the rumors were to be believed.

Clearly it hadn't mattered to Jaskier anyway.

"Bought and gave to you," Yennefer corrected. "Roach is in your name. I had to jump through some hoops to find this information. It wasn't easy. I don't think he intended on you ever knowing. He never mentioned it at all, correct?"

Most of the conversations Geralt had with the man were one-sided, or just corrections for his horse handling.

"Most of the actors left the day after the film wrapped. I haven't seen any of them save for a few who needed re-shoots with some of the sets we still had." His fist tightened around his phone. “I only told one person that I couldn’t afford Roach. He's not the type to pass around gossip.”

"I don't think Jaskier meant anything bad by it, Geralt."

"I just don't...understand."

"Me neither but unless you'd also like me to follow up, perhaps get in touch with his management?" She left the question hanging in the air and Geralt's face reddened at even the mention of talking to Jaskier again. It wasn't the man who had him worried but the whole process. Going through his team and agent just to ask why? What if he took back the gift?

Yennefer read his mind, as per usual. “He can't take Roach back, Geralt. I made sure of it but honestly, it looks like he is the one who made sure of it. No strings."  

"No strings."

"Do you want me to try and find out why? Have you looked at her teeth? Perhaps you might want to look a gift horse in the--"

"Yennefer," Geralt growled.

"Take Roach back to the ranch, Geralt. I'm sure your family will be excited to meet her."

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

"Is this my welcome?" Geralt hadn't even gotten out of his truck yet but he was tempted to make a u-turn and leave the ranch the same way he came in. He wasn't sure where he and Roach would go but anywhere would be better than his little brother giving him a suspicious expression the moment he pulled into the driveway. Eskel pushed Lambert to try and snap him out of his daze. "Well, are you just going to look at me like that or are you going to say hello?"

"Did we know you were bringing home a horse?" Eskel asked delicately while Lambert just continued to stare.

"I didn't even know I was bringing home a horse." Geralt slammed the driver's side door shut and caught Eskel in a hug. He snagged Lambert too even though the little shit tried to wriggle away after two seconds.

Lambert went through his fingers on a very short checklist. "Aiden was hoping you'd break your rule of no autographs for this one. But you didn't do that. And you brought home a horse."

"We've got a free stall, right?" Geralt looked towards the stables. They rarely had a full house unless they were hosting some kind of trail camp. Still, he hadn't even thought of calling home to check.

"She's staying?"

"She's mine." Geralt handed Eskel the paperwork and Lambert immediately hung over his shoulder to read through it.

Eskel's eyes widened at the sight of her lineage. "How did you afford--"

"I didn't. It's…a long story."

"You didn't steal a horse, did you? Someone is going to be looking for this girl."

"She's not stolen. Her name is Roach." Geralt ran his finger through his hair, pulling at the tangles from having the window open on the long ride back home. "Melitele, can we not do this now? Let me get her settled and then I'll tell you about it."

Eskel and Lambert exchanged a look and Eskel shoved Lambert off his shoulder. "Lambert, go tell Dad that Geralt's home. When does the trailer have to go back?"

"They bought that too."

"The trailer came with the horse?" Eskel waved his hand after seeing the pained look on Geralt's face. "All right, don't tell me. I know you don't want to explain it more than once."

He left Geralt to blessed silence. Silent as a farm could get, at any rate. He patted Roach's flank and coaxed her out of the trailer, leaving it unlocked and opened behind him. The ranch was isolated enough as it was and he'd be back for it soon enough.

"This is Scorpion. That's Kelpie," Geralt introduced Roach to each horse as he walked her by their stalls, finally coming to an empty one. He eyed up Scorpion, already thinking ahead. Eskel's stallion was of good lineage. It wouldn't be a bad match to think of for the future.

He hung around the stable as long as he thought he was able to. Just because one of his brothers hadn't been sent out to fetch him yet didn't mean that Vesemir hadn't already planned it. Geralt patted Roach one last time and headed out.

The farmhouse smelled just as he left it, like horse and his father's cooking. The first an unfortunate by-product of their lives but the second, a welcome back.

They didn't all still live in the house. Eskel had a cabin on the furthest edge of the land with a herd of goats that they rented out and kept for milk. Lambert and Aiden had just moved to another patch of acreage on the opposite side before Geralt had left for the film shoot. From what Geralt could gather from Eskel's texts, they swapped out more nights than one making sure someone was there to help Vesemir with the morning chores.

"Hey Dad." Geralt leaned in and let his Vesemir clap him on the back.

"Good to have you home." Vesemir's gruff voice washed over Geralt and he felt something in his shoulders settle. He took the offered bowl of stew and purposefully brushed against both Eskel and Lambert on his way to sit at the table.

"Good to be home."

Lambert, mouth full of beef stew, used his dripping spoon to gesture to the TV.

“You worked with him, right?”

"Who?" Geralt looked up from his bowl. There was an entertainment show on the television but it had gone commercial. Lambert rolled his eyes at him.

“Jackass. Jaskier. They had a whole segment on him."

Geralt swallowed and before he could overthink it, told them, "That’s the one who bought Roach. Bought her in my name, I mean."  

Eskel near choked on a beef chunk, "What?"

"Him?" Lambert's eyes widened. He shot a look at Vesemir. "Did you, uhh--" but he didn't get a chance to finish because Geralt threw a chunk of bread at his head.

"I didn't sleep with him, you ass. I don't know why he did it. I wasn't even supposed to know, according to Yennefer."

Geralt wished he knew why. It was an itch he couldn't scratch, though having Roach home and in her stall was a significant balm. He accepted another slice of bread from Eskel.

"She checked it out?" Vesemir asked knowingly. "Everything is all right?"

"The paperwork all checks out. No strings," Geralt echoed Yennefer's earlier words.

"Good lineage," Eskel added slowly. "There’s no issues with her health?”

Geralt nodded. "None that I know of. I'm going to call in Coën tomorrow to give her a full check-up and we'll go from there. I don't think there will be a problem though."

Lambert shrugged at Eskel who still looked suspicious. He eyed the door that led out closest to the barn as if he wanted to go interrogate Roach to find out more. “Oh. Well, I guess a person who buys a horse anonymously as a gift can’t be that big of an ass then like the papers say, right? Was he?”

“Was he what?”

“An ass. Was Jaskier an ass?” Lambert asked again.

Geralt pondered the question. He hadn't expected to think this much about anyone from the cast after production had set down. Definitely not Jaskier.

Truthfully, Jaskier had been the furthest thing from an ass. Sure, he had gotten to the stables earlier than the other actors but it was a strange thing for Geralt to complain about considering how late the rest of the cast were for their training sessions. He cared about the horses too. It had been sweet.

"What are you on about?" Vesemir grumbled.

Lambert, mouth full of stew, looked at Eskel imploringly, fighting to swallow. Eskel tilted his head towards the television. "The lad who bought Geralt his horse apparently got on the bad side of some folks. The gossip shows say they've been spreading rumors about him for months."

"Did he say that? Jaskier." Geralt's attention suddenly back on the television. The b-roll footage of a posh gentleman on the red carpet was not the same man covered in a dirt -covered costume after a ride or a long shoot, that was for sure. It still was Jaskier though.

"No one's heard from him. It's all come out now after the production's ended."

Eskel plucked a newspaper off of the counter and passed it over to Geralt who took it but kept it closed. Jaskier's face was on the cover or it would have been if his hand hadn't blocked the photograph from the view. "Wouldn't be surprised if he sued them for libel though. Judging by what they're saying in here, he's certainly got a case."

FALSEHOODS AND PRODUCTION WOES the newspaper headline shouted. Geralt ran through the first few lines of the article and felt the pit in his stomach begin to grow.

“I heard some of these.” He had been on more toxic sets in the past. With more difficult actors trying to make passes at him, sometimes aggressively. Thinking that crew should be lucky to get their attention. Television shows, soap operas had been worse. But this still hadn't been good. And Jaskier had been nothing but kind to him. Annoying, perhaps early in the morning but, certainly nothing like the rumors had suggested. Still Geralt had done his best to ignore him.

“No kidding? Maybe they’ll call you in to testify.”

Geralt leaned against the counter and stared the newspaper, hoping no one else heard the roaring in his ears.

Perhaps there had been another reason Jaskier was hiding in the stables each morning instead of by the breakfast tables in the craft tent.

Certainly Geralt had taken his solace in the company of animals before. Jaskier had clearly just been doing the same.

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

“You have more security out in the country. That’s the whole point of the privacy fence,” Priscilla argued. Jaskier had been sneaking peeks through the blinds for the better part of the morning. His face had gotten paler with each glance.

“I know you’re right.”

“I am. London will still be here when this all blows over. Or when a judge makes it blow over.” Jaskier sighed. Priscilla hated seeing him like this, curled up on the couch, phone turned off. Country life would be pleasant in more than one way.

“You can bond some more with that horse you’ve got. I’m sure he missed you.”

“I’ll just have to come back to the premiere,” Jaskier warned. “You won’t have the flat to yourself for too long.”

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

"Zoltan."

"You're going."

"Going where?"

"To the premiere."

"We're a little busy here." Geralt gazed around the quiet stables and winced at the phone in his hand. What Zoltan didn't know wouldn't hurt him. The last thing Geralt wanted to do was take the journey into London and be around people that he didn't even socialize with when he was paid to.

"All the crew is invited and the production team is insisting the crew come so they don't look like asshats. Please come keep me company," Zoltan near begged.

"Too late for that isn't it?" Geralt thought back to the television stories and the articles about Jaskier.

Sure, maybe Geralt had given into his curiosity and googled Jaskier's name a few times after his first night home but the man really had vanished. No photographer had been able to capture any images of him and his team weren't responding to any questions.

Geralt wasn't sure if it was Jaskier's team at work or someone in his corner but certainly he had read a few articles about instances of Jaskier's kindness. He had experienced that first hand and judging by the rest of the stories, he felt they had to be true. Most of Jaskier's generosity came anonymously but he hadn't always been as good at covering his tracks as he had been with Roach.

"Well, perhaps. Valdo made sure of that."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I just meant. All those rumors he spread about Jaskier. Turns out this wasn't the first person who he had done this too. I heard tell that Valdo is going to be blacklisted in the industry and then sued for gossip. Defamation or something. I'm not too sure. It'll be out in the papers soon enough."

"Libel," Geralt murmured, thinking back to the articles he had read. "Even I heard gossip around the set."

"I didn't believe any of it, personally. Jaskier was always a polite fellow and some of it was nasty. Well, I'm sure you didn't either. Otherwise Jaskier wouldn't have done you that solid."

"What solid?"

Zoltan was quiet for a beat too long.

Geralt sighed. One more piece of the puzzle. "You mean Roach. I know he bought Roach for me. But how did you know?"

"Ah well..."

"I had to go through a lawyer to find out," Geralt added.

"I did the paperwork," Zoltan admitted. "He did want it to be anonymous but I thought that was just so production couldn't give him a hard time about buying two horses."

"He bought another horse?"

Zoltan paused again. "He really never mentioned this to you? He was in the stables near every morning."

"For training."

"Not just for training. Though I guess we know now that he was just trying to stay away from Valdo and his cronies." Geralt wasn't sure what to say to that. He had never been anyone's idea of a respite and his guilt at knowing he hadn’t made the time easier for Jaskier still weighed on his mind. Though perhaps Jaskier had just been after the horses. "He bought the one he rode. Pegasus."

"Oh."

Geralt hadn't expected that. He knew Jaskier had gotten along with the horse, of course. That had been easy enough to see, sweet even. But it was still a surprise. A pleasant one.

There was something about Jaskier buying a horse for himself and for Geralt. As if the man understood the responsibility and the importance. He wasn't just buying Roach as a gift for whatever reason, he knew everything the job would entail.

"The premiere is in London. Should be a good time so long as no one leaks the news about any legal cases beforehand."

Geralt rubbed his hand over Roach's nose and made a snap decision. "I'll meet you there."

"Really?"

"You owe me a drink."

"Should be an open bar, mate."

"Well, that makes it easy for you then."

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

Geralt wasn't exactly keeping up with Jaskier's story but Aiden and Lambert watched enough entertainment news for the rest of them. Gossip papers would be left out around the barn by visitors without issue. If Geralt just happened to see that Jaskier hadn't been heard from in a few weeks since production shut down then, well, that was just a fact that lived in Geralt's brain.

One that he definitely didn't overthink. Not with the premiere already on his mind.

"It really was Valdo," Lambert had told him one morning. "Apparently he wanted that role of Jaskier's so badly that he decided that he'd try to make sure the guy would never have any other roles again."

Geralt didn't let on that he had known. Still, he hadn't thought about the creep since Zoltan had brought him up.

Valdo. Like Zoltan had said, it was no wonder Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables with Geralt. Valdo Marx would never deign to get to the stables early in the morning, even when it was a necessity that he do so.

"Loads of other actors apparently apologized for listening to Valdo. They'd been giving Jaskier the cold shoulder for weeks now. But still, no one has seen him."

"I can't blame him for wanting to take a break from acting. Even now with the rumors out, I think I'd find another industry to work in all together." Aiden shook his head. He looked up at Geralt hopefully, nudging Lambert conspicuously. "You haven't heard from anyone from set talking about it?"

Geralt gave Lambert an exasperated look. "I know you had overheard that conversation. I'm not taking either of you to the premiere. I'm staying for one drink and then getting on the train again."

"Told you so," Lambert muttered. "Fine. Be that way."

“Poor guy,” Eskel murmured. “I’d hide too if I just had to spend months contractually obligated with people all poisoned against me.”

Geralt kept his eyes down, wishing the conversation would change. Wishing he hadn’t been such a fool. At least he knew why Jaskier had always signed up to be the first person at the stables. Not that the information helped Geralt’s newly-acquired nausea.

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

It would be fine.

That's what Geralt kept repeating to himself on the tube ride into London.

Geralt would go in, have a drink with Zoltan, find Jaskier, thank him, and then never have to think of the man again. A strange sense of closure for someone he never had a relationship with, platonic or otherwise, but it was the right thing to do.

Everytime he looked at Roach or rode her around the ranch, he thought of Jaskier. It wasn't guilt or anything owed to the man. Geralt believed in the actor's earnestness and no-strings gift.

He managed to find Zoltan right away, the two of them hiding in a corner of the hotel bar through the actual film and more when crowds finally came back.

"I had wondered if Jaskier was even going to come," Zoltan confided in Geralt, leaning closer to the bar and looking over their shoulders as their lobby filled up.

"Because of Marx?"

Zoltan nodded. "I suspect there will be a healthy number of people keeping them away from one another."

"For good reason." Geralt tried not to be too obvious in his glances behind them but Zoltan knew enough of the cause. "Why come at all, I wonder?"

"Contract," Zoltan told him, pressing his lips thin. He shook his head at the thought. "It's written in the contracts that they've got to do press and this counts as press."

"The red carpet beforehand, surely. But I can't imagine a party is." Geralt shifted uncomfortably. The bar was filling up and he and Zoltan were getting squashed to one side already. The gracious and well-tipped bartender had thought ahead and topped the two of them off before the rush began.

"You've been in this business for a few years now. Surely you're not that naive."

Geralt finally caught sight of Jaskier. In a plain blue suit, unlike such patterned clothing he had worn even after Geralt had told him he’d only get the fineries dirty.

Without turning to look at the crowd or see if anyone was watching him, Jaskier hurried up the side stairs to where Geralt knew there was another reserved space, a small but grand library room that hadn’t been alrered since the 30s. He and Zoltan had stumbled upon it earlier in the afternoon while hiding from cameras.

"I'm more naive than I think sometimes." Geralt nodded to Zoltan and held out his hand. Zoltan took it to shake instantly. “It was good to see you. Call if you’re ever by the ranch. We’d be happy to have you.”

Following Jaskier’s path and manners, Geralt also didn’t look behind him as he slipped up the same stairs, closing the paneled door after him.

Geralt allowed himself a moment to look at Jaskier. The man had his coat in hand and was staring out of the rather large window flanked by two bookshelves.

“I just wanted to—“ Jaskier spun around, hand to his chest. Geralt took a step backwards. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier finally said, even though his heavy breaths were still evident. He stood up straight and blinked a few times too quickly. Geralt softened his voice, hoping to ease his nerves.

“Jaskier. I just wanted to catch you to say thank you.”

Jaskier flinched, just slightly. He tilted his head and looked at Geralt as though he was the picture of innocence, furrowing his brow slightly to sell the confused image.

"For what?"

"Jaskier," Geralt chastised. He was in no mood. He had been around far too many people this night. Jaskier thought so too judging by the fact that he had left the main party room for this quieter one. Still, Geralt knew that wasn’t the only reason. "Thank you for Roach."

Jaskier's mouth opened a bit and then closed again. He seemed to be eyeing how Geralt was blocking the only exit out of the room. "How do you know?"

"Was I not supposed to find out?"

"Well, it was— anonymous. I thought." Jaskier's confused expression tightened as though he was trying to remember the legal jargon he had gone through when setting up Roach's purchase and fund.

"I--" Geralt felt his face go a bit red with embarrassment at that. "I wanted to make sure she really was mine. No strings or anything. I had a lawyer friend look into it just to double check."

"Right.” Jaskier shook his head, a few locks of hair coming loose from their coiffed position. “Yes, of course."

Geralt hated that Jaskier was agreeing with him. As if it was perfectly all right for Geralt to be suspicious of a gift and also of Jaskier himself. What a pair they were.

"Look," Jaskier held up his hands in front of him, "I know you don’t like me and I didn’t to it so you’d be— beholden to me or forced to pretend to like me or whatever. You weren’t supposed to find out. But that awful man from production was going to buy her and I couldn’t let that happen and I had heard that you were had turned down the opportunity which just seemed wrong. I mean, she’s clearly your horse and—"

"Thank you." Geralt said firmly. “Just...thank you."

"Oh. You’re welcome." Jaskier swallowed and chanced a look out the window again. Geralt watched him, very aware that he had done what he came to do. Still he couldn’t make himself leave.

"Are you planning on hiding here all right?"

Jaskier shrugged. "I haven’t decided yet.”

Geralt wasn't sure what to do with that one.

"Would you like to come visit Roach?" He tried next.

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable.

“Right now?”

Geralt remembered the early training calls, how quiet Jaskier was when other people began to come around the barn, the rumors he heard even his first week on set. How he had let them affect the way he handled being around Jaskier more than anyone else. Fuck.

"Where do you live?" Geralt asked suddenly, not realizing the strangeness of the question.

"What?" Jaskier seemed taken aback which was more than fair.

"I only meant— Here in London or LA or New Yo--"

"Here. England, I mean. I’ve got a little place a little ways outside of London."

That could be anywhere, Geralt didn’t say. Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. His shoulders were hunched and he was holding himself tightly with his arms straight down at his side so his hands could be shoved into his pockets.

It had been weeks since they had seen each other last and Geralt just. He had so many things to say now but couldn't make the right words come out of his mouth.

He thought about Jaskier every time he rode Roach around the farm. He wished that it was just the two of them at 6am on the training set again. Jaskier on Pegasus and Geralt on Roach, going through the obstacle courses.

He wanted a second chance to ignore rumors and laugh at Jaskier's jokes and flirt back at him. Geralt had that open Jaskier still in his mind, who was so pleased to see both Geralt and the horses even though it was barely past dawn and he had had a late shoot the previous night.

"Did you really buy Pegasus too?" Geralt asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Jaskier blushed. "I did. He's with me. Well, a stable near me. I know I'm not the greatest at care as you saw it but I visit him and ride as often as I can." His smile was soft just thinking about the horse and Geralt again ached, thinking about the morning dew, riding with Jaskier around the ring. The soft voice that he used for the horses regardless of who could hear him.

"You’re welcome to come see Roach anytime. Especially if you want to bring Pegasus. My father’s ranch is remote and private. Sometimes we get writers or other people stay for retreats in some of the smaller cabins."

Jaskier still looked uncomfortable. Upset, even. He had taken his hands out of his pockets and he was leaning backwards, clutching the window frame. Geralt wondered how much acting he did on a daily basis.

He really hadn’t meant for Geralt to find out about Roach.

"He's really fine. I promise," Jaskier said quietly.

Geralt swallowed his nausea at just how still Jaskier was holding himself. At how Jaskier thought Geralt only inquired after Pegasus because he assumed Jaskier couldn’t take proper care of him.

And that was Geralt’s fault. For listening to rumors. For being colder to Jaskier as the shoot weeks had gone on. The man had sometimes beaten Geralt to the stables in the morning and in return, Geralt had barely spoken to him.

"I have no doubt that he is enjoying your care. As well as you sneaking him too many treats," Geralt joked, trying to lighten the mood. He hadn't mean to imply that Jaskier wasn't taking proper care of Pegasus. That hadn't been it at all. He was just. He wanted to be near Jaskier. He didn’t want to leave him just yet.

He took his eyes off of Jaskier's and they fell to his long fingers. Even though he was facing Geralt, Jaskier’s fingers were clutching the window lip.

He hadn’t been looking out the window or catching his breath in an empty room.

Jaskier had been trying to get out onto the fire escape.

Of course.

Geralt sighed, he could feel a dull ache behind one of his eyeballs. Perfect. He had already caused Jaskier enough panic for one night and now a headache. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"Here is a card for my friend. She’s a fantastic lawyer and if you mention my name, she’ll take you on. She might laugh but she’ll do it. The laughing will mostly be at me,” he added. "You might not need her, of course. But she's the one who helped figure out it was you who got Roach for me."

Jaskier took the card from Geralt's outstretched hand and near cradled it in his hands. "Thanks."

"Do you want help opening the window that you were trying to escape out of?"

There was a spark in his eye that Geralt hadn't seen in months and he was willing to bet he wasn't the only one who missed it.

"Please."

Geralt used one hand to gesture for Jaskier to move out of the way and he did, with almost too much glee. There was a bounce in his step that Geralt was relieved to see. None of the tabloids or entertainment shows could see that when they talked about him.

He carefully examined the large window. The expansive sash was sturdy enough but Geralt was more than a match for its age. He reached up and unlocked the top before heaving under the lip.

It opened without issue.

“Thank you so much,” Jaskier gushed. He didn’t even wait for Geralt to move out of the way before climbing into the fire escape. He turned to look back at Geralt. “I really appreciate it.”

Geralt gestured again, this time for Jaskier to step back, further out the window.

"What are you doing?" Jaskier asked as Geralt had one foot out the window.

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “I opened the window. Am I not also allowed to climb out of it?"

"I guess." Jaskier looked bewildered. “There’s still a party downstairs.”

"I think you know me well enough to know that it’s not my kind of party.” Geralt enjoyed seeing the flush on Jaskier’s face at the possibility that the two of them might know one another at all. “I'm not letting you fall down the fire escape."

"Just because my upper body strength is lacking doesn't mean I've never climbed down a fire escape before," Jaskier argued even as he made for the ladder.

God, did Geralt want to know that story. He could do nothing but follow Jaskier.

Out of the window, down the fire escape, and to the ground, where Jaskier landed safely with a soft "Oomph."

"Thank you,” he told Geralt again. Then, before he could lose his courage, he added, “It was good to see you again.” He took off down the street, collar popped up around the lower half of his face.

Geralt wanted to call after him, invite him to get a drink, spirit him away before the cameras out front could find him. He imagined them getting the tube together and riding away all while Jaskier huddled closer to him, whether for warmth or so no one recognized him. Geralt fantasized the worst case scenario, with himself stepping in as the hero for Jaskier, blocking him from the cameras.

In the end, he watched Jaskier, hunched over himself in a foreboding navy coat, make his way around the corner. And then he went home to the ranch and told Roach all about it.

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

“Just like that?” Priscilla asked, graciously not mentioning the fact that Jaskier had put on her favorite sweatpants or that he had heart eyes whilst talking about this mysterious horse guy.

Jaskier shrugged, swirling a wine glass with one hand. “Just like that. I’ve gotten a new agent. A new lawyer seems like a good place to start.”

“And you trust him?” Priscilla held up the card. “He couldn’t afford a horse and yet has a friend who works here?”

“She’s how he found out I bought the horse for him.”

“Your funeral.”

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

"Geralt von Rivia," Yennefer's voice came through his phone. Geralt winced and so did Eskel even though he was near three meters away. Yennefer only used their full names when they were in trouble. "Did you give some twink my number?"

"Can you help him?"

"Yes, I believe I can. i just wanted to check his story."

"He bought Roach for me."

"Yes, the mystery-horse buyer. I remember." Yennefer's quiet voice used to grate on Geralt. He never knew what it meant. He used to think he was a fool but as their relationship developed, he realized that Yennefer's version of caring contained a lot of frighteningly quiet determination.

"I wasn't supposed to find out, apparently."

Geralt wasn't grumpy about the situation.

He wasn't.

He just wished that everything was different. That was all.

"Well, he didn't anticipate you having me for a lawyer." Yennefer paused and Geralt heard some paper rustling in the background. "Did you know about all this? His situation, I mean.”

“I’ve heard rumors.” Geralt didn't mention that he had been reading Lambert's discarded tabloids and doing some googling of his own.

“Rumors of the situation or the rumors being spread about him on set?”

“The latter,” Geralt mumbled, embarrassed. "Both, I suppose. Lambert reads the tabloids. So does Aiden."

“No wonder he talked himself in circles about you. His friend had to stop him twice from rambling on.”

Geralt wanted to ask about that but he knew Yennefer wouldn't answer. Or couldn't, with a confidentiality clause.

“Can you fix it?”

She scoffed. “Of course I can. It’ll be a bit messy but luckily, this isn’t the only lawsuit against this guy. Tons of evidence and witnesses too. He managed to get a new agent who hasn't been doing half bad of a job. Don't worry, Geralt. I'll protect him.”

"Marx?"

"Yes. It's not the first time he's done this either." Then, softer. "I'll help him, Geralt. I promise."

"Thank you."

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

“Jaskier!” One of the farmer’s son sprinted up to him, coming to a stop once he reached the stables. Jaskier had just gotten himself onto Pegasus for the day. “We had a man come round asking about you yesterday. Dad wanted you to know.”

“Here?” Jaskier dismounted quickly and looked around the farm to the tree line, expecting the press to come racing at him after the teen. "Take a breath, Matthew."

Matthew and the rest of his family had been nothing but kind to Jaskier since he had started boarding Pegasus at their farm. He hated to think they were being harassed by some reporters.

“One of those newspaper people. Had a camera and everything.”

Jaskier's heart sank but Matthew shook his head.

“Posh twat!” One of the farmhands yelled from the loft. “We ran him out!”

Jaskier didn’t bothering covering his mouth as he laughed along with Matthew. “He didn’t cause any trouble?” He asked earnestly.

“We said that we’d never heard of you," Matthew said proudly.

“Thank you so much.” Jaskier heaved a sigh of relief and leaned against Pegasus. He gave the horse a kiss and nodded to Matthew again. The boy, realizing just how close he and Jaskier were standing, blushed a bit before racing off.

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

It had taken Geralt a long time in his life to learn never to doubt Yennefer but it was a lesson that had stuck.

In keeping up with the news about Jaskier, Geralt had learned a lot about him. To the point where, when Jaskier’s best friend, Priscilla, was interviewed on the red carpet of her latest premiere and asked about the missing man, Geralt knew exactly who she was. It also meant that Geralt could properly appreciate her viciously telling the interviewer to fuck off.

Jaskier still hadn't worked on a film in weeks but Yennefer assured him it was for the best and that Jaskier was doing fine. Laying low was a part of the plan.

The successful plan as it so happened.

Lambert slapped the newspaper down on the breakfast table. Geralt and Eskel both jumped back.

"The guy who saved Roach has been saved!" He crowed triumphantly, dodging a spoon thrown by Geralt.

"Jaskier?” Eskel asked. “The trial went off all right?”

Lambert nodded towards the paper. “It says Marx was found guilty. So Jaskier and the other people he talked about are in the clear with any luck. Have you talked to him?"

"What?" Geralt looked up from the front page. Jaskier looked good in most outfits, of course, but the official black suit for court did nothing but match him to Yennefer, who was barely in the photograph, as the newspaper had tried so hard to cut her out.

"I know it says he won the case but he looks here miserable, mate.”

"Tabloid photos aren't real indicators of a person's well-being," Geralt said stiffly. Even though Lambert was right. Geralt kept picturing the animated Jaskier that he had been privileged to see for a whole thirty seconds at the premiere party.

"You texted him though, right?"

Geralt hummed. "Yennefer's helping him out."

Eskel and Lambert responded at the same time.

"That's not an answer to his question."

"That's not an answer to my question."

Sometimes Geralt really hated his brothers.

"You gave him Yennefer's name?" Eskel urged on.

“Must have,” Lambert commented, tapping on the partial shot of Yennefer buried under headline text.

"Her card." Geralt also remembered Jaskier's uncomfortable body language at the party. Curled in on himself, not meeting anyone's eyes and when he did, he looked right past them. Sometimes when Geralt closed his eyes he saw Jaskier's white knuckles against the windowpane, desperate to make an escape. Geralt provided that. He gave that to him. And Yennefer's information. "He seemed like he just needed someone in his corner."

"And now?"

"He's Yennefer's client right now. They're not friends. Yet,” he added. “Knowing Yennefer, it will depend on if she likes him or not."

Lambert turned back towards his breakfast but Eskel still had a knowing eye on his brother.

“Looks like it’s all wrapped up. He’s not her client anymore.”

"I don't have his number." Geralt admitted, just barely audible. “I never did.”

Eskel reached over and tapped on the screen of Geralt’s phone. "I bet Yennefer does."

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

Geralt: Do you have Jaskier's number? Yennefer: Finally. Yennefer: I can't give it to you. Yennefer: But I can give your information to him. Geralt: Thank you. Yennefer: He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

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

Yennefer: 033 0058 0058 Jaskier: What's that? Yennefer: Geralt's number.

Jaskier sighed and touched his thumb to Yennefer's name.

"You're calling the wrong number," she told him in lieu of a greeting.

"I don't know him," Jaskier argued. "We were never supposed to see each other again."

"I expect a gift basket after the wedding then."

"Shall I expect one for you and Priscilla?" Jaskier asked coolly. Thankfully, Yennefer laughed and he managed to keep going. "He didn't want to talk to me when we had to spend near every day together. I don't think I can manage a phone conversation if it's just me." He wasn't worried about being too honest. Not with Yennefer, not after the trial.

He'd woken up plenty of times in Priscilla's flat after an emotional night to Yennefer at the door with breakfast for all three of them.

Yennefer hummed and in a way, she sounded almost like Geralt. "You're right. Can I make another suggestion?"

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

Yennefer: Are you home today? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: All day? Geralt: Yes Yennefer: Good. Stay there. Yennefer: Or outside. By the driveway. Geralt: Why? Yennefer: Trust me, Geralt. It's a lovely day. Yennefer: Just enjoy yourself.

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

Geralt stuffed his phone back in his pocket and asked Roach, “What do you think?”

Roach just looked at him which was fair but Geralt’s heart started to race with the anticipation.

He couldn’t be sure of what was coming but he hoped. He left the stables and headed for the house. Sitting on the porch did nothing for Geralt’s nerves so instead he found himself standing in front of it.

Barely twenty minutes had gone by but still Geralt found himself picking the paint off of the porch railing.

An unfamiliar engine caught Geralt’s ear and he turned towards the front drive.

Then, there he was.

Jaskier.

In a shoddy little truck with faded red paint that was nearing pink. It looked as though perhaps Vesemir was only one old enough to have purchased it as new. He was towing a trailer behind him and Geralt would be willing to bet that he knew who was in there.

He also clearly didn’t know where to park. No doubt Yennefer had given him an address only. Geralt didn’t bother to hold back his enthusiasm, waving Jaskier towards the neat line of vehicles by the stables.

Geralt wondered if it would be too much to open the door for him but he remembered Yennefer’s words.

He's sweet but skittish. Be gentle.

Geralt could do gentle. He’d soothed plenty a horse in his time. So he hung back, just giving Jaskier what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he opened the car door himself.

"Um. Hello," Jaskier said shyly, a little nod of his head. With his priorities in place, he was already headed around to the trailer door. Geralt knew he was going to let Pegasus out but he couldn't help but feel as though Jaskier was trying to avoid contact with him at the same time.

He remembered how Jaskier needed to do something with his hands even on a good day, whether that was the infuriating clicking of the pen he used to make notes on his script or the constant twisting of Pegasus' leather reins around his fingers.

Geralt liked to think that this would be a good day but he knew how much courage it took for Jaskier to drive here with his horse.

Jaskier gave Pegasus a happy smile and guided him out of the trailer. It wasn't until the horse was solidly on the grass that Jaskier met Geralt's eyes again. Geralt could see that it wasn't just shyness. It was nerves.

Jaskier was biting at his lip and playing with the leather of the reins just like he had those mornings on set. "I wasn’t sure if the offer to visit was still there. Yennefer said—

"Yennefer was right," Geralt said quickly, beating Jaskier to the trailer door. He latched it shut, staring unblinkingly at Jaskier.

"Did Yennefer tell you to say that?"

“In my experience, it’s usually true,” Geralt joked. He took a step forward. "I'm...glad you're here."

"Oh. Oh, good," Jaskier sounded so relieved that Geralt wanted to convince him to stay forever. To gain confidence as Geralt did around his brothers, to be fed delicious meals by his father, and most importantly, to find peace with Geralt.

"I'm not...I'm not great over the phone anyway,” Geralt offered.

"I thought that might be the case,” Jaskier admitted honestly. “I wasn’t sure if I could stand to carry a whole conversation. Yennefer thought it would be easier for us just to..."

"Be together in person?"

"Well, I was going to say be with the horses. So we both have something to focus on if we need it." Jaskier lovingly stroked Pegasus and the horse nuzzled at him. Geralt had seen the same scene dozens of times over but that had been on set. Seeing it again here, on his family’s ranch was almost too good to be true.

"That works too." Geralt paused a moment and then urged Jaskier to follow him. “Come out to the barn. She’ll be excited to see you.”

Jaskier walked Pegasus through the stables. He let out the sweetest sigh upon seeing Roach again and Geralt never wanted Jaskier to leave the ranch again.

"Oh, hello, darling," Jaskier said quietly. Geralt took Pegasus' reins and Jaskier used his free hands to rub at Roach's nose. She leaned into the petting and Geralt wished he could take a photograph.

“I was a twat,” Geralt told him while Jaskier was distracted by a beautiful horse. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier looked down and shrugged. “I’m sure you see all sorts on film sets. I can’t even imagine.”

“I bet you can.” Geralt stroked Pegasus. He unlatched Roach’s stall and gestured for Jaskier to lead her out. “You weren’t any trouble, you know.”

“I don’t know if you remember but you…you yelled at Marx one day. He was crowding me in the stable and Roach picked up on my mood and became irritated with him. You told him off.” Jaskier told all this to Roach and Geralt did him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

Geralt didn’t remember though. He had chased away dozens of actors from horses over the years. It didn’t surprise him that Marx had been one of them.

“I’m glad she was there to protect you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

“I won’t say that it’s all right,” Jaskier said, with more strength than he looked. He swallowed and finally turned to Geralt. “It’s been…a long few weeks. Months, really. But we’re here now and—“

Roach nudged him again and he let out a little laugh. Some of the tension leaving him.

Roach nuzzled closer and Jaskier could tell she was eager to get out of her stall. “Yes, darling. I brought your old friend to come see you. I thought perhaps--" He looked at Geralt. "I thought perhaps we could go for a ride together? If you'd like."

"I'd love that," Geralt croaked, wondering how Jaskier could still be so brave after all this. That he was here and talking and asking Geralt to spend time with him. "Let me tack him up for you?" He asked, hand on Pegasus' flank.

Jaskier's brow furrowed. "I can do it."

"I know that you can. I want to do to it,” Geralt stressed. "Please," he added.

"Let's swap," Jaskier said, still lovingly petting Roach. "I haven't seen this girl in a while. It'll be nice."

"All right," Geralt agreed. He could see what Jaskier was doing.

It wasn't about a penance. Jaskier wanted them on some kind of equal footing. That was fair, Geralt supposed. Even though as of that specific moment, Geralt wanted to give Jaskier the world.

"Are you all right now?" Geralt asked, hesitating in a way that he hoped made an answer not necessary if Jaskier didn’t want to respond.

"Well, I don't know about 'all right,'" Jaskier huffed. His eyes were looking straight ahead. "Yennefer certainly settled some things. I'm not sure I'll be acting anytime soon. Or um, answering my phone calls. I've actually changed my number again. Remind me to give it to you."

"I'd like that." Geralt didn't mention that he never had Jaskier's number in the first place.

"It's not the press," he assured Geralt. "Just a lot of people trying to apologize or offering to support me. I'm talking to the same few who always believed me before everything, you know? Mostly just Priscilla and Yennefer right now."

Geralt didn't know. He was one of the people who...well, he's not sure that he believed the rumors. He wasn't someone to go around sets making friends regardless. But he had certainly heard the gossip, listened to it even.

He liked to think he made up for some of that but in actuality, Geralt knew it didn't matter. He'll always wish he had behaved differently when he first met Jaskier. He could have maybe had Jaskier in his life for so much longer. Could have supported him better during this shit time instead of just handing over Yennefer's card and begging her to take the case.

Geralt's mind was full of questions that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to ask. He wasn't even sure he wanted the answers either. What was Jaskier going to do now? Geralt knew that one was selfish because he so wanted the answer to include him.

They worked in silence to get the horses ready but it wasn’t a silence that Geralt minded. Especially not when it was broken every moments by Jaskier giggling whenever Roach tried to interrupt his actions. He watched Jaskier get up onto Pegasus before following on Roach.

“You could always keep Pegasus—“

"I was thinking maybe I could board Pegasus here? If you've got the room—"

"Yes!" Geralt said immediately, cutting off what he had started saying as well as Jaskier's nervous rant. He didn't want Jaskier to be unsure of himself ever again. Not where Geralt was concerned. "You could come by whenever you'd like. Hopefully...often," he let himself say, voice growing stronger as the sentence went on.

"Yeah?" Jaskier asked. Geralt couldn't look away from how his teeth trapped his bottom lip between them. He was grateful that they were both on horses, otherwise Geralt wasn't sure he could have stopped himself from taking his thumb and slipping the abused lip to safety.  "I don't live too far away. I hadn’t realized.”

Geralt swallowed. He met Jaskier’s big blue eyes and knew his own were rounded in vulnerability. “Please."

Jaskier finally, finally, smiled at him in such a way that Geralt felt his chest loosen. Jaskier nodded and Geralt felt his heart beating in his chest again. He grinned back at Jaskier and felt something swirl around them.

“Stay for dinner? My brothers would love to meet you. My father too.” Geralt was horrified at himself. He hadn’t rambled on like this in years. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to stop himself, not when Jaskier was giggling and trying to hide it with a hand over his mouth. “My brother Eskel’s horse is the one I’m planning to pair Roach with but I’m making him grovel for it if you’d like to help.”

“That sounds nice,” Jaskier laughed openly at him. Geralt didn’t mind one bit. “I’d love to stay, thank you.”

“Thank you.”

Geralt couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Jaskier as they mounted. It seemed Jaskier didn’t mind, snorting each time he caught his former horse master. And then he did the same, with Geralt trying not to preen too much in response.

Jaskier told him about Priscilla and Yennefer meeting and how he couldn’t go to dinner with the two of them alone again, Geralt, please.

Geralt explained how the farm worked and how much he disliked being on set away from his brothers, even when the money was good. How mercilessly they had teased him about Jaskier when he had returned.

They rode through the ranch, to Eskel’s farm, and Geralt found that both of them were becoming freer with their laughs by each trot.

The two of them had a strange beginning and a tumultuous middle but perhaps, if Geralt and Jaskier worked for it, they could have a lovely end.

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

ao3 link here

[kalee60]

i wish you would write a fic where jock!bucky seduces twink!steve, maybe he hits steve with that pec flex guys do that is both dick-ish and insanely hot at the same time?

Oh Manda - you absolute gorgeous gem! I very much like what you're asking me to create here 😘 I also love, love, love that you sent me a prompt!

I immediately think of sun, summer, ice cream, boys at the beach playing frisbee and our gorgeous Smol!Steve and Jock!Bucky as friends mutually pining (Ha - it's me, it was never going to be anything but this story!)

Once again, my quick little drabble (that I wrote today when I woke up {thanks to my sprinting buddies in discord}) turned into a 4k fic... But I mean - I think that's okay (more stucky for us - right?)

I hope you like where I took this, maybe in a slightly different direction than intended - it's also on ao3 here (with all tags necessary) if you prefer to check them out and read there instead, it'll be part of my stucky bingo fills - Beach and rated M for mild sexual content 😉

If you'd like a fic - here's the post - I wish you'd write a fic... (It might take me a little bit to write - but I will get there!)

Steve was in hell, literally. It was hot, he was sweaty and he was being tortured. Honestly, Steve really loved summer, but at the same time he loathed it. And most of that had to do with the fact he had to sit around in his large group of friends and watch Bucky fucking Barnes sans top and wearing only a small pair of running shorts frolic over the sand at the beach.

Life was unfair. 

How could somebody like Bucky actually exist in real time? He was a complete jock for starters, his looks and size perfect for being naturally great at sports, earning him a football scholarship of his choice (of course). And Steve, well Steve Rogers was as far from a jock as anyone could get. Not that he was horrible in the fitness and muscular department, but he was too little and his asthma still played up to join rugged contact sports. Being 5’4 also didn’t particularly endear him to any of the coaches at college who were scouting for star players. Plus studying to be a high school teacher probably wasn’t sporty enough, and he was leaning towards a specialist English role, not Gym.

So Steve joined the campus gym instead of a sporting team, did weights and classes and enjoyed it immensely. It was where he met Natasha, and that fateful meeting brought him to Bucky and his dickish jock ways and friends.

Though if Steve was to be fair (of which he was - usually) not all jocks were dicks, even if Steve had preconceived notions from high school what college boys would be like. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that the captain of the football team was not only gorgeous, cocky and a bit of a douche, but also very smart, kind and had a smile that could make Steve’s legs turn to jelly with only a small half tilt.

But it was as he sat on a towel under the shade of a large umbrella that Carol had stolen from her parent’s garden shed, that Steve really felt the heat, and it had nothing to do with the blazing sun above him and the burning sand beneath his feet.

It was all Bucky Barnes and his chest, his slim waist, his tanned olive skin, the breadth of his shoulders, the thickness of his sinewed and muscled thighs that tapered down to calves that bunched up as he jumped and landed to grab the frisbee aimed at him.

Steve sighed heavily as his gaze lingered on the brunette. Bucky Barnes was every mans wet dream, every girls perfect prince, and Steve pulled his dark sunnies over his eyes again, ignoring the pounding in his chest, the throbbing in his groin as he watched Bucky behind dark lenses spring up and prance over the sand, laughing with a wide mouth that could do sinful things to Steve’s body. The worst part was that Bucky was doing all of this with no knowledge that Steve harboured the biggest crush of his life.

It really was unfair.

Sitting back to lean on his hands, stretching his legs out, he saw Bucky glance over at him, and gave a smile. Bucky grinned back and then grappled Sam to the sand to yank the frisbee from his grip. Life wasn’t unfair because Bucky didn’t date guys, he did, very much so, and girls too from what Steve had seen, it was just the guys Bucky dated were typically more like… jocks.

Steve hunched over, trying to not stare too long and inadvertently get turned on, finding it an impossibility as his eyes wouldn’t tear away from Bucky’s frame as he bounded effortlessly over the soft sand, something Steve couldn’t do. He’d almost lost a lung from the trek over to their secluded spot earlier that day. Soft sand was the enemy - that was fact.

“Heads up.”

Startled from his thoughts by Bucky’s deep voice urgently calling out his way, Steve looked up only to see the frisbee coming straight for him. With a reaction that even surprised himself, Steve raised his hand and caught the flying disc with nary a blink of an eye.

Bucky was skidding to a halt on his knees before him a second later.

“Shit, Steve. That was epic, you sure you don’t want to play? You can be on my team - my secret frisbee weapon.”

Steve’s mouth went dry as he tried to listen to the words leaving Bucky, because the delectable man was less than two feet away and the smell of sunscreen, sweat and something virile and uniquely Bucky entered his senses. Steve knew that if sitting next to Bucky in the dining hall was torture when Bucky was wearing his spicy cologne, he’d keel over being enveloped in his sweaty beach scent for longer than a minute. 

God he wanted Bucky to fill him, everywhere. Make him forget his name, take him over and over.

He realised that he still hadn’t answered and heat crept into his cheeks, managing to blurt out, “I’m good for now. Nat’s grabbing ice creams and I don’t want to get a stitch.”

Steve then gave Bucky what he hoped was a soft and cheeky winning grin, but the way Bucky faltered, swallowed tightly, face impassive made Steve wonder if he’d missed the mark on trying to be flirty.

He really was as hopeless as Darcy continually told him.

Steve’s eyes trailed down to Bucky’s broad and lightly haired chest, finding himself breathing quicker, wondering if he’d remembered to pack his inhaler. No, he was sure it was in the pocket of his backpack. Thank god, he might need it in the face of Bucky’s glorious muscles moving in his vision all day.

“If you’re sure,” Bucky finally said in a deep steady voice.

“Maybe later,” Steve stammered, holding up the frisbee with a shaky hand. He had to get a grip.

“Alright, later then, I’m holding you to that.” And Bucky took the disc from Steve’s grip and was off bounding towards Sam, Carol, Thor and Maria.

While Steve recalibrated his thoughts, Nat came back holding only one ice cream cone, licking it slowly with a sparkle in her eye as Clint trailed behind, wearing Nat’s beach bag and carrying the rest of the ice creams, and Steve worried she’d overestimated his balancing skills. But if Nat asked, Clint would do - it was kind of amazing the power she had over him without even trying. Although they weren’t dating (yet), Nat was never cruel, she was playing the long game and really liked Clint, but had been hurt before by some Russian asshole, and Steve knew that Clint, when Nat finally agreed to go out with him would never be the same man again. He’d be lost in deep shock and joy. They were perfect for each other.

A pang went through his gut as Steve watched them, taking a cone from Clint, wishing he had someone that wanted him as much as they wanted each other.

“Vanilla,” Nat commented with a scrunch of her nose at Steve’s choice as he took a lick of the creamy goodness, the chill on his tongue welcome under the heat of the day. “You’re so very basic, Rogers.”

“Hey there is nothing wrong with that. I happen to love vanilla.” A rich voice said from right in front of Steve as Bucky flopped down on the sand, kicking up little grains that stuck on Bucky’s thighs where he was sweating. Steve shut his eyes against the picture before him, once again pleading to any God or Goddess that would listen that it wasn’t fair, that they had to find him someone one day. He just hoped it would be soon, else his dick drop off from Bucky unwittingly giving him blue balls.

“You’re one to talk, you didn’t even want ice cream, just a soda. And a club soda at that.”

Bucky looked over to Nat, flashing her a wide grin, and Steve immediately started to lick his ice cream just to do anything but stare at the crinkling in the corners of Bucky’s eyes, or to watch his lips as they wrapped around the bottle tip. He only half listened to their banter as they kept teasing each other, Nat and Bucky having been best friends from childhood, the reason how Steve inadvertently fell into the group of jocks, for a lack of a better term to encompass all the fit people he was now surrounded with.

Nat had introduced him to everyone after they’d hit it off at the gym in first semester, and Steve had waited for the inevitable teasing to commence about his small stature, but it never came. He was always included, never mocked (unless it was called for, because he was a facts man and couldn’t help correcting people when they were clearly in the wrong) and it was such a novel experience, so how could he not fall immediately in lust with the football captain? One who had smokey blue-grey eyes, sinfully full lips made for kissing among other fun activities and a personality that you could fall into and live inside forever.

“Err, Steve… your ice cream, it’s ummm, dripping.”

“What?” Steve asked, realising that he’d been swirling his tongue over the top of the soft confectionary and that his fingers were now completely sticky as the ice cream dripped over them on to his thigh. “Oh shit.”

Steve immediately switched hands and started to lap at his fingers, tongue darting between them to catch all the creaminess, sucking them into his mouth one by one, only looking up when he heard a muted groan. Bucky was moving before him, squirming in the sand, and as his eyes landed on Bucky, he startled, surprised to find Bucky’s hooded gaze directly on Steve. But his eyes hadn’t landed just anywhere, they were trained to Steve’s mouth, and as Steve swiped his finger through the sweetness that had dribbled on his thigh, Bucky’s gaze followed that finger's movements. Steve without thought, heart thumping hard, confusion and awe flowing through his veins, stuck the digit in his mouth, licking off the stickiness. 

Thankfully, Steve had his sunglasses on, hiding his expression, but he knew his face was burning red at the brash and overt display. Bucky was watching him intently, the rise and fall of his gloriously thick chest heaved, and Bucky’s skin flushed from the exercise or maybe the sun. Steve wasn’t sure.

But it was as Steve licked around the base of the cone again, the ice cream melting quicker in the heat than he could swallow, Bucky’s pecs twitched.

Steve stopped all movement, caught at the tick of flesh, the way it bounced taut, watching with abject lust and desire as Bucky did it again - knowing exactly where Steve’s eyes were trained.

It was such a fucking dick move, a power move to get attention and Steve hated jocks who flexed like that, but on Bucky… on Bucky it was god damn mesmerizing. And it was after the third time Bucky’s pecs jumped, Bucky stood up abruptly and fled saying in a higher pitch than usual that he was jumping in the water, that Steve realised he might not have been doing it on purpose.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bucky was dead, he was going to die from being hard for... how long had he known Steve Rogers, six months maybe? Well, that was how long he’d survived with a non-stop boner for the blonde man. And he was at the end of his tether.

Steve was everything Bucky ever wanted in a partner, smart, strong, intense, funny, handsome  and a person that he could fall into, spend time with - love.

So it didn't help his little issue to be at the beach that day, watching Steve sit under the huge umbrella on brightly coloured towels in his swim trunks and a loose tank with arm holes so big he could see all the way through to his muscular chest and pink nipples. It was driving him fucking insane. 

Sure he’d seen Steve wearing an array of items at the gym, but he’d never witnessed him so carefree as he was at the beach. He was smiling more, relaxed, joking while big sunglasses hid those gorgeous eyes that would give the ocean a run for its money as to what was bluer.

But what killed Bucky that particular day over every other day he lusted after Steve, what made him clench and twitch all over was watching Steve lick up his ice cream. It was downright obscene, Steve shouldn’t be allowed to do that in public, or at least he should have a warning sticker on his person.

Steve had a mouth made for sucking cock, and Bucky wanted, no, he needed to know what having those lips wrapped around him felt like. Christ, he wanted to know what it felt like to be buried in Steve, maybe even have Steve press into him. Fuck.

There was only one thing for it.

He had to seduce Steve, and he had to do it soon.

But that begged the question - how?

How did Bucky capture the attention of the smartest, funniest, quick witted and grumpiest man on campus? Not only that, but to have Steve take him seriously? Bucky was aware that people thought he was only a dumb jock, that all he had to offer the world was to play ball and shit talk other teams and work out in the gym. Which, yeah of course he did all of those things - but he really was so much more. He was studying economics, was thinking about trying to specialise and work as an international trade specialist after college, and although Bucky really loved playing ball - it wasn’t his whole life. He’d never go pro - well, not without a hell of a lot of luck and persistence, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to take something he enjoyed and make it a living in that way. He’d seen how broken some sports stars bodies were after a career, and he still wanted to be able to walk at forty without having had three knee reconstructions.

But Steve, Steve saw through all of that, he spoke to Bucky like an intellect, like he had something worthy to say, to add to the conversation. Even at the gym after Nat had introduced them (Bucky begging to know who the gorgeous guy she was chatting to on the rowing machines was) Steve and he worked out together, had fun catcalling each other for being weak and helped each other with their forms - something Bucky largely did just to get hands on Steve even though Steve’s form was perfect.

Bucky had been taken with the slight man from the first moment he’d seen him, always under the impression that Steve was too smart to even think about dating a meathead like him, even if he truly wasn't what his physique made him. So he stuck with friendship, but now he wanted more. Was going to ask for more.

“Whatcha thinking?” Nat asked as she swam out to float in the water next to him.

“Nothing much,” He replied, ignoring her knowing hum. He hated that they’d been friends forever and she knew all his tells.

The much needed cold water had soothed his itching skin, and from his vantage point he could look back at their rag tag group of friends, able to stare unabashadly at Steve as he laughed with Clint and Thor about something, staring up at Thor as he... as he fucking flexed in front of Steve.

“Easy boy,” Natasha grabbed his bicep that was taut from clenching his fists, “Thor’s with Jane remember? Steve’s not interested in someone like Thor anyway.”

Bucky’s eyes swung to her immediately. “What do you mean? Because he's a jock?”

Nat let out an exasperated sigh. “No you idiot. Because he’s interest lies elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Bucky’s chest squeezed tight, wondering who had Steve’s undivided attention. And he couldn’t help but watch Steve as Carol held out a hand to pull him to his feet, and suddenly Bucky forgot his disappointment when Steve pulled his tank off, revealing a gorgeous toned body in all its glory. Bucky’s dick stirred. Thank fuck he was hidden in the water.

“You are a colossal idiot. You know that right?” Nat deadpanned.

“I have to ask Steve out,” he blurted. “I need to… I need to be with him.”

“I know,” Nat said with a smirk, and Bucky looked at her gratefully, if she helped he would be fine. “But that really sounds like a you problem. Have fun with that.”

“You horrible cow,” Bucky sniped back, ready to splash her, but she was already under the water stealthily swimming up behind Clint, only to dunk the unsuspecting man. 

Bucky’s attention suddenly caught on movement on the shoreline as Steve stood knee deep, testing the water and with no further hesitation, dove in, coming up for air not far from where Bucky floated. Bucky watched mesmerized as the sun glinted off Steve’s wet eyelashes, before he wiped the droplets from them, smiling at Bucky.

“Oh god, this water feels amazing.”

“So would you,” Bucky whispered.

“Huh?” Steve asked.

For a long moment, Bucky stared at Steve, realising that sound carried over water differently and Steve most likely caught what he said. Seducing someone was hard, even though he hadn’t even tried yet.

Instead of answering, Bucky ducked his head so his mouth went underwater and swam towards Steve like a shark, deciding that he just had to ask him point blank, no messing around with seduction. Slipping up out of the water at the last moment he put on his most predatory smile, Steve’s eyes widening and he looked around, face flushed and Bucky hoped he wasn’t looking for an escape.

He quickly darted behind Steve, wrapping his arms tight around his lithe body, trying not to linger too much as Steve was the perfect fit, felt so good against him; and when he heard the small gasp from Steve’s throat he launched him into the air. Flinging Steve into the water a few feet away.

“You fucker,” Steve exclaimed laughing as he came up for air, and Bucky smirked.

Suddenly with a smirk of his own that made Bucky inhale sharply, Steve disappeared under the water, Bucky feeling him come up underneath his body and with a strength that belied Steve’s small stature, completely turning Bucky on more than it should, he was pushed up out of the water, throwing him completely under as well.

“Jesus, Steve. You should join the team.” Bucky spluttered when he came up for air.

Steve grinned back, pushing wet hair out of his eyes and Bucky stared, lost in how stunning Steve looked in the sunlight, that he was there before him alone in the ocean full of people, “I mean they already have you and Sam as Captains. Wouldn’t want to put either of you out of a job.”

Bucky laughed, “I don’t doubt you’d do it too, Stevie.”

And when Steve stopped smiling, Bucky realised what he’d said.

“Shit, sorry - you don’t like that? Nicknames?”

“No I... I do…” Steve answered softly, and Bucky became lost in a blue that matched the water they were treading.

“Would you get out with me?” Bucky blurted.

“Sorry? Get out of the water?”

Bucky internally facepalmed himself. “No, I mean go out.”

“Out. With you?”

Bucky nodded.

“Err, why me?” Steve asked in a small voice lost on a gust of wind.

Looking at Steve, who stared back at him with questions in his eyes, Bucky wanted to explain how much he’d desired it for months, to tell Steve all the ways he wanted to make him happy, and as a multitude of words sat on his tongue, Bucky suddenly understood Steve might not listen to his reasoning, might not believe him. So he decided to show his intent instead, and swam closer. Steve’s eyes were wide, guileless, Bucky seeing a small spark of something more, and hoping he wasn’t triple jumping over a line, he swam up behind Steve. He felt Steve tense up, anticipating to be flung into the water again, but instead, Bucky pulled him closer so that Steve’s back slotted against his front and leaned in, mouth only an inch away from Steve’s ear.

“Why you? Oh Stevie, you have no idea how gorgeous you are. How much I want you.” Bucky pressed his nose against the back of Steve’s ear and inhaled deeply, sunscreen, salt and Steve’s shampoo filled his senses and he lost his head for a moment, especially when Steve let out a high pitched groan and wriggled back into Bucky. “I want to spread you out beneath me, I want to lick all the sweat off your body, sweat that I'm going to cause from working you hard, making you work extra hard for my dick, because Stevie - I want you, I want you bad, and I think you might want me back just as much.”

Bucky hoped he wasn’t completely off base with his desires, that Steve really was just as interested, and when Steve ground back against him, skin sliding against Bucky’s, letting out another moan at the friction when he felt Bucky hardening up underneath him, Bucky knew it was going to be ok.

“Yes…” Steve whimpered as his shorts caught against Bucky’s dick, pushing backwards.

“You want that baby?”

“Fuck. Yes, I do.”

“How much?”

Steve spluttered, and Bucky couldn’t help chuckle at the noise. “What do you mean?”

“How much do you want it?” Bucky knew he was being a prick, making his pec’s tense against Steve’s back, pulling him onto his lap as they floated in the water, before wrapping a leg around one of Steve’s pulling it to the side, making Steve gasp gorgeously.

“A normal amount,” Steve husked back.

“Oh, you want me a normal amount - is that all?” Bucky smirked before licking a sloppy stripe up Steve’s neck at the same time as he snuck a hand down the front of Steve’s swim trunks, gripping his dick tightly, feeling the impressive length and girth for the first time. Fuck, he was definietly not taking switching of the table. But not anytime soon. First, he wanted to take Steve apart in every way conceivable.

Steve meanwhile, was liquid in his arms, going slack as Bucky took his time to explore while they floated in circles not far from the shore, but far enough out they wouldn’t get in trouble. He hoped. 

The moans tearing from Steve’s throat were getting louder though, Bucky loving every noise punched out of Steve as he stroked harder under the water, the friction and pressure of the water making him slower and more languid than usual. And Bucky wanted to make Steve call out with no thought or boundaries, nothing to stifle his pleasure, he needed Steve coming in his arms, again and again.

“I think you might just want me a little more than that.” Bucky rasped against Steve’s neck, sucking a bruise onto his pink skin, giving Steve’s dick another sharp tug and before he knew what was happening, Steve was shaking in his arms, whimpering out a release and Bucky was speechless. Utterly speechless as he continued to stroke Steve slowly, carefully as he jerked in his hand.

“Holy fuck, you’re stunning, gorgeous, the absolute best,” Bucky rambled into Steve’s neck, nipping kisses and pressing his lips against him in absolute awe at what had just occured.

Suddenly Steve moved, spinning himself around to straddle Bucky and he went under for a moment as their weights shifted and came back up spluttering, only for Steve to launch himself so his lips pushed against his. Steve took over, devouring his mouth, and although Bucky was the one in control, holding them both up, he’d never felt so out of control as Steve writhed and ground down as best he could in the water. Shit, Steve was going to be a handful and Bucky was there for it.

As he kissed back, grabbing the back of Steve’s head, holding him still as he pressed his tongue in deeply, a huge beach ball smacked into the side of his face. They jumped apart with a gasp.

“Don’t make me go get the hose!” Nat yelled out as she and Clint swam around nearby. “It’s about time you dolts wised up, but this is a public beach with you know - families.”

Bucky watched as Steve’s face flushed a perfect shade of red, and he couldn’t help but grab him again, giving him a quick intense kiss, claiming Steve until he struggled for breath, to show Bucky’s intent was clear and true. It was pure perfection.

“We’ll pick this up again later.” Bucky promised.

“Later.” Steve replied breathlessly.

Suddenly Steve pushed himself away from Bucky, grabbing and throwing the beach ball, hitting Clint dead on the nose. The surprised yelp from both Clint and Natasha made Bucky laugh.

“Oh it’s so on, James,” Nat yelled out.

Steve piped up from his side, “you wish, Romanoff - we’re gonna take you down!”

Bucky beamed.

“Yeah!” he called over to them, dodging the ball that came directly for him as Nat and Clint shit-talked. And as he and Steve swam out to retrieve the ball floating behind them, Bucky turned to Steve and gave him an overtly salacious wink. “And once we take them down, I’m going to take you home and show you what going down is all about.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Really? That was incredibly lame, especially for a savvy sex-crazed jock.”

“You’re not interested in my proposal then?”

“Oh I’m interested,” Steve grinned, licking his lips and Bucky caught his breath. “But if you’re going to use dad jokes on the regular - I might have to start calling you something else in the bedroom.”

Steve then threw the ball, Nat ducking at the last minute, and Bucky didn’t even feel when the returning pitch slammed into his head; Steve’s words creating a delicious cacophony of images and filthy thoughts in his mind instead.

Bucky had always known that Stevie Rogers was going to be both the life and death of him, and as he rubbed his head, grasping the ball in one hand, ready to throw it, he couldn’t wait to see where their adventure would take them.

But first - Clint had to pay.

[andilovetowrite]

The Chosen Couple (Part 1)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary- Peter and you have a movie night to celebrate the school year ending, but the night takes an unexpected turn. (Not that you minded of course)

(Btw- the reader is an avenger, and Tony is kind of her father figure)

Warnings- None really, just tooth-rotting fluff and awkward confessions.

Word Count- 2.2k

Posted April 21, 2021

Here is Part 2 and Part 3

God, I hate the rain, you thought as you ran across the street, pulling your jacket even further up your head. You knew you should’ve bought an umbrella or even a raincoat, but since it was movie night, you didn’t even hesitate to run to Peter’s house after you dropped your bags at home. Every Friday was the same. Either you or Peter would have the privilege to pick what movie you guys wanted to watch, and then both of you would relax on the sofa until you left, or fell asleep.

This Friday was different though. It was the last day of school, so the day was even longer than usual. Everybody was just glad that the year was over, and summer had finally arrived. Sophomore year had been challenging, especially Physics, but you couldn’t wait for the next two months. Obviously saying goodbye to your friends had been bittersweet, but the feeling of relief of not having to do any homework or tests triumphed over the sadness. Tonight, you and Peter would watch movies until morning, and eat every possible snack you could find. The entire week had been leading up to this.

Trying to shield your face from the sharp drops of water, you finally reached the door, pushing it open with one hand, the other occupied with holding four huge packets of chips. Finally reaching the top floor, you dropped the bag on the floor, holding your knees and taking a breather. Hey, not all of us have superpowers to walk up seven flights of stairs and not get breathless. Pushing the jacket off your back, you knocked on the door, bouncing on your feet, waiting for Peter. A couple of seconds later, after the sound of a thud on the floor and May’s laughter, the door flung open, revealing a flustered Peter.

“Hey Y/n!”, he breathed out, smiling his signature grin before engulfing you in a hug. You felt his arms circle around yourself, pulling you close. Smiling slightly, you reciprocated, throwing your hands around his neck.

“Hi Peter”, you said, your voice muffled in his sweatshirt. Pulling away from him, you pushed him off me, laughing at the cute pout on his face. “I’m soaking wet with this thing on me.” Plucking the clingy jacket off yourself, you squeezed it, water splashing off it. Peter stifled a laugh, taking the bag out of your hands.

“Drenched, aren’t you?”

Elbowing him, you gave him the bags of snacks, muttering sarcastically. “That’s the sympathy I get for bringing the best food for our movie nights”

“Ooh, Doritos and… sour cream Lays!” He looked up at you, smirking. “You got the good ones.” Rolling your eyes, you nodded, walking inside the apartment.

“Is there any place I can dry this?”, you asked, referring to the sad bundle of cloth in your hand. Peter took it from you, despite your complaints.

“Let me do it. You are my guest”, he said, looking over his shoulder, winking and he threw it into the washing machine.

“Well, I am your guest every other day”, you shot back, walking into the kitchen. It was true anyway. The Parker’s house is your second house. The tower was nice and all, but with all the Avengers and Bucky and Sam constantly arguing, it can get annoying fast. Peter’s house is a shadow of calm in your life. Ever since you found out he was Spiderman, well, (he actually told you, but that’s a different story), you tried to come to his house every night to make sure he was fine. Tony had stopped you from fighting crime since last month due to exams, as well as Peter, but it didn’t stop you from coming and visiting him. You know, since he was your best friend.

“Hi sweetie!”, May called out, embracing you. Knowing where Peter got his talent for amazing hugs, you hugged her back, smelling the scent of warm cookies and cinnamon. Realizing that the smell of cookies was coming from behind her, you looked across, seeing a batch of cookies starting to burn.

“May! The cookies!”

“Oh-oh!” Running at them, she grabbed a towel, quickly pulling the burning hot cookies out of the oven.

“Here!” Pushing some of the items off the counter, you made some space for the tray of cookies. Dropping the tray down with a clatter, she blew on them, fanning the golden-brown discs with her hand. “They look awesome Aunt May!”

“Aww, thanks Y/N”, she said, staring at the cookies on the table. “They are, aren’t they?”

Smiling, you nodded, getting hungrier just looking at them. “Oh my god, what smells so good?” Peter called out, walking out of his room. Gesturing to the perfect cookies on the table, you pointed to May.

“Wait a second, they aren’t burned” Peter looked at May in astonishment, carefully taking one off the pan and biting it. “It tastes perfect May!” She merely smiled, walking over to the counter, grabbing her purse and some packs of gum. Now noticing her clothes, you called out.

“Where are you going, Aunt May?”

She looked back at me, quickly applying some lip gloss. “Oh just a night out with my friends. I need it. Plus-”, she glanced at the TV and then Peter, “- I know how loud movie nights can get.” You laughed, jumping off the chair and walking to the front door. Grabbing an umbrella, you gave it to her, mumbling about how to not make the same mistake you did. “Okay sweetheart. I’ll see you both in a few hours. I might stay over at Ashley’s house, but I’ll call you if that happens.” Kissing Peter on the cheek, she walked out, shutting the door behind her.

The minute the door closed, Peter jumped up, pulling you towards the sofa, showing you the array of snacks that he placed out. “Okay, so we have chips, chocolate, cookies that May made and there is ice cream in the fridge.” His eyebrows furrowed like he was remembering something but his eyes lit up in recognition when he was the small box next to the door. “Oh, and Mr Stark sent over a couple of things for us for tonight.”

Chuckling, you told him to get those, while you picked out the movie. Trying to choose one between Star Wars and Harry Potter, you chose the latter, knowing that you two were going to have a Star Wars marathon in the near future anyway. Grabbing the remote, you chose the first movie, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, pausing it to wait for Peter. Looking for him, you saw him standing at the door, the box lying open, untouched. He was holding a small index card, his face bright red.

“Hey Pete, you alright?” Worried, you slipped your hand under your shorts, feeling the edges of your dagger sitting over there. Pulling it out, you carefully walked over to him, thinking that something was wrong. However, when you got closer, Peter heard me, turning around so fast he hit his head on the wall. Crumpling the card in his palm, he threw it behind him, smiling nervously. “Are you okay? What was that?”

“Nothing”, he replied, too quickly. Quirking your eyebrow, you shrug, letting it go.

“What did Mr Stark send for us?”, you asked, trying to get a glimpse at the box.

“Uhh, just some snacks and drinks. I think there was some cold coffee in here as well. Why don’t I go heat us some?”, he said in a high voice, the same one he used when he lied.

Not even letting you get a look at the mystery box, he began pushing you towards the couch, mumbling something under his breath.

“Y/N, your t-shirt is soaked! Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged half-heartedly, not wanting to go home and change. Seeing your expression, he pushed me down the sofa, telling me to wait. A beat later, he ran back, holding out a dark blue hoodie with a picture of Luke Skywalker on the back. “Here, change into this. Don’t wanna get a cold”

A half giggle escaped me as you took it from him, walking over to the bathroom as you changed into it. Pulling it on, the familiar scent of Peter embraced me. The plush inside of it felt warm against your skin, making me shiver involuntarily. Biting your lip, you looked into the mirror, liking the sight of Peter’s hoodie on me. The more you stared at your reflection, the fuzzier you felt. This just seemed like a very boyfriend thing to do. To be honest, you always thought of Peter as more than just a best friend. The first time you saw him was in 8th grade. You had just moved to Queens, due to your parent’s job, and you were quite excited. It had been a month since you had gotten your newfound power of controlling objects with your mind. It was hard. Your parents didn’t know about it just yet, and it was getting harder to block out your power off from simple everyday objects. You remember how one time you almost threw a plate at your mom because she was freaking out about your Math grades. Soon after you had moved in, you met Peter Parker. He lived across the street from you, wearing glasses and carrying lego boxes home most days. Since you were the same age, it was only a matter of time before you two became friends. And friends you became.

“Hey Y/N! You alright?”, Peter yelled out from the living room, cutting me out from your thoughts. Shrugging your shoulders, you walked out, seeing him sitting comfortably on the couch, chips, ice cream and some sandwiches in his hand.

“Delmars?”, you asked, nodding to the sub in his palm.

“Yup got it earlier” Pulling the sleeves into your hands, you brought the hoodie closer, loving the warmth. “Come here, I’m freezing”, Peter said, making ‘grabby hands. Chuckling, you carefully jumped in, arms curling his midsection. Resting your head on his shoulder, you grabbed the remote, pressing play.

On the screen, the intro of Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone began showing up, as Peter scrunched up his nose. “Wait, Harry Potter?”

“Yeah, it’s my turn? Remember?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s mine. The last time was yours.”

“But I had an extra one, right?”, you looked at him accusingly, “because you came and ruined my date.”

He looked down sheepishly, trying to hide the small smile. It had happened about 3 weeks ago when Brad Davis had asked you out. You couldn’t begin to explain how hard it was to explain to him why Spiderman had swooped me out of the sky to go help him do English homework. But truthfully, you weren’t vibing with him. He talked too much about sports and how much he worked out. No offence Brad, but you could backflip him out of a window within minutes. Sadly, he didn’t know that you were an Avenger, so you had to act like you were interested in his biceps for 2 hours straight. Thank god Peter had shown up, otherwise, you would have had a very awkward conversation with him.

“Fine fine”, Peter muttered, grabbing a few chips and stuffing them in his mouth.

“Aww, come on”, you said, threading your hands in his curls, “you love Harry Potter” Smiling cheekily, though it sent a twinge of pain through your heart, you teased. “Especially Hermione Granger”

His cheeks turning pink, he mumbled. “No, I don’t”

“Uh-huh”

“Alright alright, let’s just do this!”

“We have literally all summer, I’m sure we can spend some time discussing your crush on Hermione”

“In that case, let’s talk about Mrs Potter over here”

“Okay, I think we got it”, you said, making the word much longer. We grinned at each other, ready to watch the movie, as the intro began playing in the background. Little did you know that these beautifully crafted cinematic adventures that you guys were about to have would change your relationship with Peter forever.

Thanks for reading till all the way here! If you liked this, please follow me and I’ll send out the next part in a couple of days :)

Here is Part 2 and Part 3

[m3kuroshirt]

House of Assassins Part Three

Links to Part One, Part Two

Word Count: 2704

Warnings: None

Ichigo had a Problem. And that Problem’s name was Grimmjow. For the past two months, the strong, handsome, sometimes brash, and very, very forward man seemed to show up almost everywhere Ichigo went. And yes, Ichigo liked looking at his pretty eyes and his strong chest and his smug grin. But also, Ichigo had jobs. Dangerous jobs. How was he supposed to complete them with a civilian hanging around him all the time, and not give himself away? Whether he enjoyed Ichigo’s company or not, he was almost certain that Grimmjow would go running to the cops like a good citizen if he knew the true nature of Ichigo’s work.

Which is why, on a Thursday, Ichigo was outside perched on a park bench…at one in the morning. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands briefly. His head was fuzzy from being awake all day and then dragging himself out to the park so late…early?...but he needed to try and keep his wits about him. The man he was meeting was known for his…games. And Ichigo had no intention of getting strung along. Especially as the man was a friend of Kisuke’s. Ichigo really had to wonder at that man’s definition of friendship…did he think it just meant ‘person who hasn’t killed me yet’? Ichigo shook his head with a sigh.

“That’s a pretty dramatic sigh,” a low voice commented. Ichigo turned to look over his shoulder. In the moonlight he could see a shadow of a figure standing several feet away. “Life got you down?” The figure approached now that he knew he had Ichigo’s attention. As he stepped closer, Ichigo could make out more details. Long dark wavy hair pulled back in a low ponytail. A suit that looked slightly disheveled as if the person had taken a nap in it. Scruff around the chin and five o’ clock shadow on his cheeks. A tired-looking face with a kind expression, but with eyes as sharp as the blades he figured had to be concealed somewhere on the man’s person. After all, Shunsui Kyoraku was known for wielding dual swords.

The man was beside the bench now. He gestured to the empty space next to Ichigo. “Mind if I join you?”

Ichigo shrugged, feigning indifference. He didn’t dare let the other man see how intimidated he felt. “Do what you want.”

Shunsui eased himself onto the bench with a sigh. “You know, I was a little surprised at the time Kisuke suggested. It’s not easy for an old man like me to get out and about at all hours of the night anymore,” he spoke with the air of a man commenting on the weather, but Ichigo knew there was another meaning to his words. ‘You better be worth the effort I’m making to see you’ was the unspoken threat in the older man’s eyes when Ichigo met his gaze. Ichigo stared back at him calmly, brown eyes determined and unwavering. Shunsui must have liked what he saw there, because he smiled suddenly. He turned to face forward, observing the empty park in the silvery light of the moon and stars. “You know, there’s a new pharmaceutical company in town. Pretty interesting, actually, they say they have a new drug. One that’s supposed to enhance the user’s fitness and strength, optimize calorie use, cut down reaction time, and just overall make a person physically…better.”

“Do they?” Ichigo wasn’t stupid. He’d heard of Hueco Mundo Pharmaceuticals. He’d even seen promos for their so-called ‘miracle pill’. To the average person it probably sounded ‘too good to be true’. To those desperate enough to try it, they probably believed it was a bit embellished. To Ichigo? He figured it probably did all those things exactly as advertised. He’d been around Kisuke long enough to know things that seemed impossible were rarely actually so. But he wondered what a person had to sacrifice to reap the benefits of that ‘miracle pill’.

“They do.” Shunsui’s voice had lowered and his tone was more serious now. “Naturally, Unohana looked into it.” Ichigo felt his lips quirk upward slightly at the mention of Unohana Retsu, the number one pharmacist in the city, and Kisuke and Tessai’s personal supplier for both medications and poisons. Though, he couldn’t help the twinge of unease in his chest. If Unohana looked into it, there was most definitely something wrong. The woman didn’t get involved personally where she didn’t have to. Even with Tessai and Kisuke, she insisted they were customers and business was not to be discussed outside of work-hours when she visited for tea.

“And?”

“Shinji. Hiyori. Kensei. Hanataro. Four of her top employees are missing.”

Ice gripped Ichigo’s soul and he felt dread wash over him. His hands clenched into fists and a frown settled onto his face. “Does she know what happened?”

A light breeze stirred the night air, tugging gently at Shunsui’s long hair and making a shiver roll down Ichigo’s spine. “They were sent to find out information. Not even infiltrate, just act as customers. Each of them disappeared after receiving one shipment of the medication. We don’t even know if they ingested any. There’s no trace of them, and the only hint we even had that they managed to get the medication was the packaging found in their homes.” Shunsui paused for a moment and let the information sink in. Then he continued, “Until yesterday. Unohana received an unlabelled, unmarked package. It had a disc inside.”

Ichigo’s mouth went dry. Images of the four employees, people he might even dare to call friends, rushed through his mind. “What…what was on the disc?” he asked. His voice was strained, and he hated the emotion it gave away, but Shunsui didn’t look at him, didn’t even blink.

“You’d have to see it to believe it,” was all he answered, his voice uncharacteristically soft and saddened. He cleared his throat. “You know how Unohana is. She has her pride. There’s no way she’s letting this go. But she can’t act on her own. Four of her best are out of action, and she’s in the eye of the public as a charitable public figure, advocating for health care and all that. Isane is pulling more than triple her usual amount of work. There’s no one else. She reached out to me, but…well.”

Ichigo closed his eyes and swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up in his throat. “Well what? You’re not usually one to outsource to Kisuke,” he prompted, trying to keep his mind off the inevitable fate of his friends. Shunsui sighed.

“You’re aware that two of our squad captains…defected last year and went rogue.”

Ichigo gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “You’re kidding. You’re not telling me they joined Hueco Mundo?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And that’s why I can’t send my people after them. Gin and Tousen know all of them. Hell, Tousen trained more than half of them. We’d get nothing but a bunch of dead spies if I sent anyone after them.” Shunsui didn’t try to hide his frustration. He clasped his hands together so tightly the knuckles turned white, and he fixed a glare at the shadows in the distance. He took a deep breath in and rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck. “Unohana doesn’t want to just hit the company where it hurts. She wants to obliterate them. Cut off their head, so to speak.” Shunsui finally turned to face Ichigo again. Ichigo met his gaze calmly, doing his best not to give away the roiling rage, the burning fear, the sickening unease that settled into his gut. “I’m asking you to take the job. You’ll be well compensated, once the head of the company is dead.”

Ichigo took one breath. In and out. Then another. Nice and easy. His restless thoughts cleared away like clouds sailing on the wind. There was only one choice; from the moment he’d been asked to go by Kisuke he’d made up his mind. He wouldn’t back out now.

“I’ll do it.”

***

The streetlights cast a warm glow as the limousine sped to his home. Ichigo hadn’t been able to refuse Shunsui’s offer to escort him home, especially when the walk to the park had been cold enough on its own. And he trusted Nanao’s driving.

“You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you,” Shunsui commented, a fonder look on his face now that he wasn’t talking business. Ichigo shrugged.

“I was fifteen.” He kept his answers short, to the point. Regardless who he knew, or for how long, Ichigo would rather not be too trusting of Shunsui. The man ran a spy ring, after all. He had to be one of the most dangerous players in the game of life in Karakura Town. And Ichigo had been evading him for a while.

As if understanding his intentions, the older man chuckled and reached out. Ichigo tensed but didn’t move away as Shunsui ruffled his bright orange hair. “Keep your distance all you want, but I promise I’m not trying to recruit you again. Kisuke and Yoruichi both made it clear you’re not looking for a new boss. But I do have to say I miss seeing all you kids. You sure were a lively bunch whenever Kisuke brought you around.” Shunsui’s hand withdrew and Ichigo felt himself relax again.

“It’s your own fault you don’t see us,” Ichigo reminded the other man, giving him a cold glare. Shunsui blinked, eyes widening for a fraction of a second with surprise. Something flashed in his expression, but Ichigo didn’t quite catch it before Shunsui’s easy-going mask of a smile was back in place.

“Well,” he laughed, and it almost sounded genuine, “I suppose you’re right about that.” The limo pulled to a stop in front of his house. Ichigo hastily exited the vehicle, and just about slammed the door behind him, but Shunsui spoke again. “Wait. You’ve forgotten something.”

Ichigo turned around, mouth open to snap at the man, only to see him holding Ichigo’s phone, which he’d left on the seat next to him. Ichigo snapped his mouth shut and reached for the phone, but Shunsui snatched his hand back, a smile playing on his lips like it did when he used to tease the kids as he watched over them for Kisuke. Ichigo narrowed his eyes. He was in no mood to play this game.

“Give me my phone back, old man,” he grumbled.

“Ichigo?” a familiar voice called and Ichigo felt the blood drain from his face. He glanced to the side and, sure enough, there was Grimmjow, standing in his front yard in a pair of sweats and a tank top. He opened his mouth and shut it, no words coming out. Why the hell is he outside at this time of night? This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. This is why I requested the meeting time. What in the fuck?!

Seemingly realizing Ichigo was in a tough position, Shunsui decided to have mercy. He held the phone out again. Ichigo glanced at him and snatched the phone out of his hand. He gave the old man a glare, and Shunsui just smiled back at him as Ichigo slammed the door shut. The limousine pulled away. Ichigo took in a deep breath and turned around to face Grimmjow, only to find the blue-haired man standing right in front of him.

***

Grimmjow had been sleeping…not so well. Despite the announcement from Jinta two months ago, it felt less like Ichigo wanted to date him and more like he wanted to avoid him. It was weird. The other man always smiled and greeted him, but he’d seemed more and more tired and less and less enthusiastic. Maybe the kid read it wrong? Maybe Grimmjow read it wrong? Maybe they were all wrong and Ichigo was embarrassed and too polite to say so? He groaned and rubbed his hands on his face. He snuck a look at his bedside clock and groaned again. Two fourty-five? Fuck. Are you kidding me? Grimmjow scowled. His throat was dry now. With a sigh, he heaved himself up and out of bed, padding down to the kitchen for a glass of water. He was reaching for a glass when light flooded through the gaps in the curtains. Grimmjow paused and frowned. He abandoned his original objective to see who would be paused in front of his home at ass-o-clock in the morning.

He couldn’t quite see from the window, so he opened the front door and stepped outside. The car was long, a limousine, he could see now, in the light of the streetlamp and the headlights. It was parked in front of Ichigo’s house. Grimmjow waited as the door opened and a familiar figure stepped out. He squinted, but when the figure turned back toward the vehicle, he got a better look at their face.

“…Ichigo?” he called out. The figure started, and then Ichigo was meeting his gaze in the dim streetlight. He looked…afraid? There must have been a commotion from the limo, because Ichigo turned back to it, and reached in to grab something. Grimmjow frowned. His actions didn’t look natural or relaxed, but tense and on-guard. He started toward the limo, worried if he took his eyes off his neighbour for a second that he would be snatched back into the limo and disappear forever.

As if on a cue, right as he reached him Ichigo slammed the door shut and the limo sped away. Ichigo turned, as if expecting Grimmjow to be in his yard still. His wide-eyed expression told Grimmjow the other man hadn’t expected him to be right in front of him. Grimmjow stared at him. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. Ichigo’s eyes were dark in the dim light, with a lighter ring of amber around the outside of the iris. After the initial startle response, his gaze slowly softened and Grimmjow could see a sadness in his eyes. They both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but stopped. Grimmjow gestured for Ichigo to continue.

Ichigo smiled at him gently. His face had a really warm glow in the soft streetlights now that the limo and its harsh lights were gone. “What are you doing out here so late?”

Grimmjow raised his eyebrows. “Could say the same to you.”

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair and tore his gaze away. “Asked you first,” he mumbled. Grimmjow pursed his lips but decided not to argue the point of who looked more out-of-place right now.

He rolled his shoulders, hairs on his arms prickling in the cold. “Couldn’t sleep. Went to get water, and I saw the light from the limo. So I came out to see who was parked out here in the middle of the night,” he replied shortly. Ichigo nodded, eyes still not meeting Grimmjow’s. “Your turn.”

Ichigo swallowed. “I was. Working.”

Grimmjow folded his arms. “Really.”

Ichigo looked at him now, brown eyes pleading. “That’s as much as I can tell you. Please. I’m sorry.” Grimmjow searched his eyes, but he found no lies in them.

“…are you alright, at least? You didn’t look too happy talking to…whoever that was.”

Ichigo’s hesitation said it all. Grimmjow kept his gaze fixed on him, staring at him intently, as if he could pull the answer out of Ichigo with only his gaze. The other man lowered his gaze, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it and closed it again. Finally, he just shook his head. “No. Not really,” he whispered, voice sounding strained. Discomfort settled in Grimmjow’s chest and he felt the urge to reach out, to touch, comfort, console…but he resisted. Instead, he dropped his arms to his sides.

“C’m ‘ere,” he directed, turning slightly toward his own home. Ichigo looked up, confusion etched into his face. Grimmjow jerked his head toward his house. “Come sit inside. I ain’t gonna be able to sleep and you look too wound up right now. We can talk, or whatever.” Ichigo blinked. Then he gave a soft smile.

“Yeah, ok. That sounds good.” And he followed Grimmjow into the house.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter nine: legs and tails

“revelations breaking though: the truth distorts untimely accident. your precious mind is lost, try to regain again, my friend, your sanity." -"the ritual", testament ("alex in chains" as i call that song)

Sam had kept her promise to Alex in that she made her way over to Brooklyn by the middle of November, the date that was once their wedding day, and lucky for her, she had made a little bit of progress for herself and she was able to walk about the streets of New York City without the assistance of the wheelchair underneath her all the while. However, she did in fact bring out that old cane that she had tucked away when the pain from her first round of injuries had subsided enough for her to walk alone.

It was also a bit difficult to walk about the rather vast stretches of New York streets, especially with the way in which her left foot wanted to drag about the sidewalk. But she fought through it and she managed to take her car down to the brand-new-to-her neighborhood, and she moved her things to the new little apartment with the help of Ruben as well as Belinda. All the while, she never told either of them about what was going on with her, what was going on inside of her body.

On the day before she made the move official and she would put down the first month to her new landlord, she awoke with a burning sensation on her forehead and all across her face. When she ducked into the bathroom for a glimpse into the mirror, she never caught sight of anything upon her face, aside from the flushed color over her nose and her cheekbones. An actual fever that morning.

She still looked like Sam, still with those dark eyes and that dark hair, albeit with a few gray hairs here and there along the crown of her head. But all was not right within her.

She had to tell someone about it, someone who wasn’t her parents or Belinda, the latter of whom finally had that important lunch with Esmé for their new book together. She had tucked herself into the farthest corner on Long Island with Esmé in a house that resembled almost exactly to the one back on Catalina Island and they were both hard at work on the manuscript: the last thing Sam wanted to do was impose on them when they had something far more important to worry about, too.

After a modest breakfast and one last cup of coffee before she packed in the coffee maker, she headed downstairs, complete with a sharp pain in her right knee and ankle, what was otherwise her good leg.

The pain stayed with her all the way to her car ride to the familiar expressway straight out of the city. Her eye on the open road before her in the last clear crisp day before the rains rolled in from the lakes and from the ocean; she wound her way through the woods with the sun at her back.

The last twenty years flashed before her very eyes over the course of four hours, until she finally saw the Syracuse skyline once again, right before her against the cold earth.

She took the turn-off to that familiar neighborhood once again.

He stood out in the front yard with his long black hair tousled over one shoulder and down onto the top of his chest and with a hockey stick in one hand. She posted up at the curb and he lifted his head and cracked a smile at her.

Right behind him, something loud blared out from that old disc player on the front step to keep him company. She took one look and knew that Krista wasn’t home.

“Hey, you,” he greeted her when she climbed out from behind the wheel, and she nearly tripped on the edge of the curb.

“Hey!” she returned the favor. She then recognized Zelda’s voice. “Did she already record a new album?”

“A couple of untitled demos she gave me,” he told her as he slung the hockey stick right across his shoulders.

“This song’s called ‘Screwdriver’,” she told him.

“It’s either about worshipping the drink,” he declared. “Or it’s about having sex in a taxi, I'm not sure.”

“You should hear it all live,” she assured him with a little wave of her hand. “She just completely forfeits of all sense of control and gets all down loose with it, like she has a bit of swagger to her that she didn’t have with the Cherry Suicides.”

“She also told me she’s thinking of reuniting her little band, too,” Joey added.

“Yeah, she told me that, too.” She watched him double back to the front step and he pressed the stop button on one side, and silence fell over them.

“You wanna hang out?” she asked him with one hand pressed onto her hip.

“Hang out? Like—go on a date? You know I’m married now, right?”

“Yes, but I just want to like—you know. Hang out. The same way a couple of friends hang out together.”

“Uh... sure,” Joey replied with a thoughtful look on his face: time was being kind to him as well, even with the slight lines on his face and his neck and the extra tinge from the sun all across his skin. “Just let me clean up a bit and wait for me.”

“Of course, of course,” she assured him.

He packed in the disc player as well as the hockey stick and within time, they walked into the rest of the neighborhood and towards town. All the memories of living in Lake Elsinore flooded back to her at the mere sight of the trees off in the distance.

Joey brought her to the little café up the block and he bought the both of them a bottle of cream soda each.

A moment of relief to her as she knew she was going to have to break the news to him at some point, hence the whole point of making her way upstate in the first place. But she knew that she would have to crush his spirit at some point, especially with the big beaming smile plastered upon his face.

He downed the cream soda as if it was going out of style, and that was when Sam spoke again. If nothing else, she had to lead him into it.

“So, what happened with Anthrax?”

“I have no clue what’s happening with them, to be honest,” he told her. “A friend of mine called me last month and told me, ‘Hey, you know they got a new singer, right? And it’s not you or John.’ and I was like, ‘really? I just did what I had to do and then I went home.’”

“Wow, so you didn’t leave your position or anything?” she asked him.

“Nope. No idea what’s going on over there, either. I tried calling up John and he told me he’s just as lost as me. I could try and talk to Scott or Charlie or Frankie but who knows, really.”

“I also saw you punch a guy in the back of the head at the first Testament reunion show, too,” she recalled. “Well, Belinda and my godson Teddy did, anyway.”

“Oh, some douche down right below us kept telling Krista to lift up her shirt,” he recalled with a shake of his head. “I just wasn’t gonna have any of it. I made a promise to protect my girls, anyway.”

He tipped the bottle back for one final sip and she figured that that was the best time to tell him, especially with it emptied of the cream soda. Joey slithered his tongue out from his dark lips and he peered about the block.

“Have you seen a garbage can anywhere?” he asked her.

“I haven’t, no.” She then cleared her throat: though it was a cool day there in upstate New York, she still felt hot to the touch. She could feel the fever making a return with each and every step, and it didn’t help matters that her legs were still very much in pain. Indeed, she felt her left foot dragging along the sidewalk once again. She kept on lifting it up, but it was growing more and more difficult with each and every step.

“Are you limpin’?” he asked her in a low voice.

“I’m sick, Joey,” she told him. “I have multiple sclerosis.”

He stopped right in his tracks. He dropped the bottle on the ground next to them and it shattered into a million pieces.

“No,” he sputtered.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

He shook his head and he almost lost his balance on the curb next to them. She could see the tears in his eyes, and she lunged for him. She pressed her hands to his shoulders and gazed right into his face. He gasped at the sight of her right before him, but he never said anything to her. Sam inched in closer to his slender little body, much thinner and lankier than Alex who still maintained his slim shape despite feeling a lot softer in some places. She swallowed as Joey clasped his hands up to his mouth: the silver of his wedding band glimmered in the midday sun, but she paid very little attention to it.

“I realize that I could die any day,” she told him. “Life could go away at the slip of the wheel—and it doesn’t take your boyfriend being killed in a bus accident in Sweden while things were on a bad note or watching the Twin Towers fall right before your eyes for someone to tell you this, either. Life could quite literally end today—” She leaned in and pressed her lips to the side of his neck: the sun-kissed skin still as smooth and delicate. “—and thus, I’m doing what I can to seize every day that I’m still here. I have to take care of my body because it’s art. I am art, as much as you or Alex or Cliff or anyone I care about and love more than anything in the world.”

Despite the wedding band, she moved in closer to his neck again for another kiss, that time with a bit more force and for a longer stretch of time as well. All she had at that moment was that time.

“Carpe all the diems,” he told her in a low voice. He put his arms around her and he held her close to his body.

“Every last one of them,” she whispered as she leaned her head against his chest. He stroked the curvature of her back with one hand, and she glimpsed up at his face.

“Want me to tell Anthrax about it?” he offered her. “Scare ‘em straight?”

“Nah, I think I can take it from here,” she assured him. “You were the first person I ever told, anyway.”

Joey showed her a smile, albeit a sad one, and that time, they treated each other to a kiss on the lips. A small one, but a definite one nevertheless. Old feelings never faded, especially with Joey.

“Sometimes that’s just all you need,” he told her, his voice still down low.

“Right?”

“I gotta get back home, too,” he confessed with a shrug. “I promised Krista I'd clean up while she’s out. She could be home at any second.”

“Oh, yeah, better do that—”

Even though they were in a hurry because of that, Joey kept his arm around Sam all the way back to the house given she was hobbling a lot more than usual.

“Okay, now, run along before I get caught,” he teased her with a grin. “You drive safe, too.”

“You know I will,” she promised him.

Much to her surprise, she had enough strength in her legs to guide herself back to New York for the rest of the day.

She awoke the next morning a touch warm, but not without the feeling that she had made it through the night once again.

And with nothing more to add, she pressed onward to the subway station for the final ride down to Brooklyn, down to her new home.

When she made her way down to Brooklyn, she also brought that old black hat that Cliff had given her out of the closet as well. Dust had long settled upon the crown and the brim but it was nothing a little shake couldn’t fix up. But at the same time, she also knew that the second in which she had settled into her new place, she would have to find herself a bit of guard for the faded black fabric.

When she surfaced out of the station, and she made her way over to the new neighborhood so as to settle herself in for the day. No sooner had she reached her brand-new block when she spotted that little fuzzy head of black hair, complete with the little gray sliver strong and high over his forehead. Not only could she see him from a block away from his hair but the fact that his wiry little body towered over people’s cars parked there on the curb.

Sam hobbled across the street and she rested a hand upon the crown of her hat all the while. Alex stood there at the corner with his lanky hands pressed to his shapely hips and with the midday sun cast down on his head and shoulders.

“Hey, new neighbor,” he greeted her in a loud enough voice for her to hear.  

His hair had grown out a bit more, this time into the taut beginnings of an afro all around his head. It helped that his face had grown slightly rounder and his skin a bit smoother, too: despite that, however, his body still maintained its slender shape, and his arms were still smooth and sinewy with that beautiful vein down the side. Not even close to being full of muscles like with the bet from four years before, which meant that she was going to have to owe Belinda eight bucks.  

But then again, it had only been four years. He still had a long way to go before the rest of his features filled in for the rest of the bet.  

All in all, he looked even cuter than ever to her. If anything, he struck her as far more kissable that time.

“I’ve missed this,” he said with a gesture to the hat’s brim.

“You’ve missed this?” she teased him, to which he chuckled at that. She then lifted up her cane. “How ‘bout this?”

“I’ve missed that, too,” he added as they both began to walk along the sidewalk to her cozy new apartment, perched right upon the street in the instance of her having to resort to the wheelchair more in the future. “I know Belinda made that for you after the accident but—I don’t know, I've always liked the addition of the cane.”

“Especially with the hat?” she asked him.

“Especially with the hat—like it’s the quintessential Samantha look to me. I see this and I think of my best friend.”

She showed him a smile and she lowered her left hand and took out the new key to her place from her jean pocket. At least she was able to still wear jeans for the time being.

Sam unlocked the door and she and Alex poked their heads into the front side of the apartment: it was small, almost narrow, such that it made Sam think of a little closet, albeit one with a nicer carpet and a touch more space for her to set up some of her drawings and paint canvases right next to her couch. On the far side of the room was the doorway to her kitchenette as well as her bedroom, a small bathroom, and two linen closets. When Alex stepped inside of there, he bowed his head a bit, even though his place next door to there was almost the same size.

“Let’s just say that my paycheck from Ozzfest helped out with things,” she told him. “Not a lot, but it did help and I had very little choice, too.”

“Kind of reminds me of my place,” he admitted to her: he turned his head and showed her the sweet little dimples coming in on his face and the little fine lines on the inside of his neck. Sam showed him a shy, little smile in return, as if she was flirting with a boy again.  

She was flirting with a boy again, the boy right in front of her. Though he had just turned thirty-eight at that point, he would always be that soft sweet boy to her no matter what age he grew up to be.  

“Wouldn’t you agree?” he asked her. “It kind of looks like my bachelor pad next door?”  

“It does,” she said in a soft voice. “It does, it does ever.” She sauntered over to him with her arms tucked behind her back, which in turn made her chest poke out to him. Her legs ached but she managed to stay standing right upon the floorboards. She peered over her shoulder to the blank space next to the front door: the perfect place to hang up her hat as well as her cane and maybe an umbrella or two.

Alex cleared his throat as if he was about to tell her something, but he never did. Sam turned her attention back to him and took off her hat with her free hand, and she set it down on the box of towels and things she had considered moving into the bathroom at some point when she was feeling up for it.

He took his spot on the far-left side of the couch and his thighs spread apart enough for her to look on at the zipper of his jeans. He gave his little mop of hair a slight toss back with the flick of his head and then he stroked the side of his neck with those lanky fingers. She stood there before him and for a second, she had no idea what he was doing at first. And she realized that he gyrated the seat of his pants into the cushion as if he was adjusting himself there: either that, or he was relishing in the feeling in the cushion.

That was her couch, after all. And that was where she usually sat when he stayed with her, as well. He set his left arm up on the back of the couch and he leaned back to show off his body to her.

“God, I love this couch,” he admitted to her in a soft voice.

“That’s ‘cause it’s my couch,” she followed it up.

He glanced up at her without moving his head up a bit: those little fine tendrils at the very front of his head obscured his eyes enough to accentuate his face.

“So, what should I do?” he asked her.

“Whatever you want,” she quipped to him as she leaned the cane next to the arm of the couch. She wobbled a bit from the pain simmering in her foot and also her lower legs. No more wounds there, but they ached her as if she had broken them some more from a brand-new accident. The butterflies returned to the pit of her stomach at the sight of him down there on the couch right before her.

“I have to hustle a bit, though,” he confessed, still with his head bowed a bit and still with some of his hair over his brow: he never looked all the more adorable to her. “I managed to find some time off amongst everything lately, but I have to do some real important stuff today, though. Not really a day off, but—you know.” He shrugged his shoulders at that.

“You know what today is?” she asked him.

“The eleventh—” He stopped and then he gasped. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah.” She nodded at him. “I just now remembered it, too.” And she remembered it in a sense that she never dropped Skolnick from her last name, even well after the fact.

He then ran his fingers through his hair and he shoved it out of his face so she could better see his deep eyes again as well as the rim of his little elf ear. He never seemed more adorable to her than at that moment.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Samantha?” he asked her with a knitting of his little dark eyebrows together.

“You look really, really cute right now, Alex,” she replied without a second thought. “So very cute. I mean, I know you don’t have your long hair anymore, but you still look really cute.”  

He raised his eyebrows and then bowed his head a bit, and his cheekbones filled out at that.

“Just a really cute boy right now,” she said.

“Cuter than I was twenty years ago?” he asked her with another raise of his head.

“I dunno ‘bout that,” she admitted to him. “But you are certainly cute right now.” She swallowed. She had to tell him the truth one way or the other. She finally had the courage to tell him as well.

“I also have multiple sclerosis,” she added, to which he gaped at her. The softness disappeared from his face and returned to an expression of sheer terror.

“Oh, my god,” he breathed.

“Yeah. It's my immune system very slowly attacking, eating away, and destroying my nervous system—I guess Bill hitting me with his car must have done something to trigger or it or something, they don’t know for sure what brought it on. But I knew something was wrong when I was having to resort to a wheelchair more and even more so during Ozzfest when I showed Zelda that I couldn’t lift my foot all the way, not without basically dragging it along the ground and onto the foot rest. And it’s good for me that I’m able to be close to my doctor—he's right up the street from here, but there’s also a physical therapist right next door. He told me that that can help slow down the symptoms. But since my diagnosis, I've learned that I could literally die any day. Like it could strip me down all the way to the wire in one fell swoop and I could in fact go to sleep and never wake up after that.”

His face fell at the sound of that. It was right then, the first time ever in which Alex actually looked old and not courtesy of the gray streak on his head, either.  

“So, Alex... in the case of me never seeing you again. I just want to tell you—” She shifted her weight right on the spot. “—that—I—”  

His phone rang right then, and he closed his eyes and bowed his head.  

“God damn it,” she muttered as he leaned back and took his phone out of his front pocket. He nibbled on his bottom lip as he looked on at the screen for a second, and then he flipped it open.

“Hello?” Alex turned away from her and he bowed his head a bit. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m helping a good friend of mine move into her apartment. Yeah. Yeah. Really?” He lifted his head and gazed back at her, his eyes wide and his eyebrows knitted together, as stern as ever. “Yeah, okay. Alright, I'll be right there.” He peered down at his watch. “Oh, shit, I’ve gotta move, too: the next subway’s coming fast and I’m up the block from the station. I’ll see you soon.” He closed the phone and stuffed it back into his jean pocket once he stood back up before the couch.  

“I am so sorry, Samantha, I have to go,” he told her, and he put his arms around her. “You take care of yourself in the meantime for me. Please? Please take of yourself for me.”

She closed her eyes and he put his arms around her, and he held her close to his slender little body: even though he was still quite svelte and slender, she could feel the softness on his waist. His chest never warmer than it did right at that very moment.

“I know—it's horrifying,” he said in a low voice: even though he never changed up the tone of his voice, she could hear the tears in there. “It’s just like when Chuck was diagnosed with cancer: you know that it could very easily kill you. But unlike cancer, it’s a death sentence. But I want you to take care of yourself for me.”

She could feel him bowing his head onto the crown of her own: she ran her hands down the small of his back and towards the rim of his belt.

“Don’t be getting any ideas now,” he teased her in a hushed voice. He squeezed her a bit and then he bowed away from her. With his fingers through his hair again, he ducked out of the apartment and back to the street. If there was any other silver lining to her telling both him and Joey about it, it was that she had the courage to tell more people about it.

“Alex?” she called after him, and he very hastily turned around and faced her from the sidewalk. “When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” he promised with a faraway expression plastered on his face; he then put his sunglasses on over the bridge of his nose and he ran his fingers through his hair again. “Really, if nothing else, wait for me here. I’ll be back again before you even know it.”

[writersmorgue]

I'm in a nightmare but I didn't fall asleep

TW: noncon, vague description of said noncon, kidnapping, non-consensual oral sex

17+ to interact

“That’s TWO out of three sports festivals you lost, Shouto. I’m beyond disappointed in you.” Endeavor’s booming voice leaves nothing to the imagination as it echoes across the barren stadium halls.

Well, almost barren.

Sero cringes from his hiding place behind the nearest wall, making eye contact with Bakugo next to him whose brows are furrowed in concentration.

“You know what, I’m fucking done. You’re going to give me one thing, and it’s going to be the future number one hero. A hero who will beat All Might, something you will NEVER do. My faith in you has been destroyed. I’ll tell them to retrieve you on Friday.”

Shouto makes a choked noise, and the two boys look at each other in confusion.

“Father please, you don’t mean-”

“I absolutely do. I gave you three chances Shouto! You’ve wasted my time and money, and now you’re going to be used like the useless bitch you are. Only serving me one purpose.”

“Please I can do better! Please don’t take me I promise I’ll make it worth your resources- AGH!” There’s a strangled shout as Endeavor grabs his daughter’s long ponytail in his flaming fist, charring the white hair

“You will do no such thing, and don’t even try escaping, I’ll hire more men if I have to. You will be useful.” There’s a scraping sound as Shouto drags her feet as she’s pulled away.

A shrill scream lets out, quickly cut off as Endeavor’s scorching palm slams over his daughter’s mouth with a sharp shut up.

Sero turns to Bakugo, gulping, as he raises a pointed thumb towards the exiting duo, “Uh, that didn’t sound good.”

Bakugo purses his lips, “No, it did not.”

-

Endeavor shoves Shouto into the van head first and she tumbles in, careful to mind the several men surrounding her as she skids to a stop.

“I don’t care how you go about this, you’re all suitable donors. Get her pregnant in a timely manner. Do what you want with her when the baby is born.”

Shouto whimpers as the door is slammed shut, locking her in complete darkness with a group of unfamiliar voices as they discuss who gets to fuck her first.

Her right ankle is grabbed as the van begins to move, the first man growls as she tries to pull away, and his grip tightens.

She screams, hoping someone will hear her. Her mouth burns from her father’s hand.

“NO!!! LET GO! I DON’T WANT IT!” The sound of zippers undoing around her head is what finally sets her off.

Her flame erupts, burning half of her competition shirt, save for her specially made sports bra, and singes the second-place medal strap around her neck. The disc clanks on the metal floor and the men around her shout with frustration.

“He said we could do what we want-” One of them grunts, patting some embers off of his shirt, “Someone subdue the bitch.”

Her head is slammed down onto the metal floor, and she fades away.

-

“Did-” Sero’s voice cracks, and he doesn’t continue.

“Yup.” Bakugo nods, explosions popping behind him as they sprint towards the speeding van, “He just facilitated the rape of a fucking minor.”

“A MINOR!?” Sero screeches, fumbling his tape as it catches on a tree branch, launching him forward “That’s not just a fucking minor, Katsuki, that’s our fucking FRIEND.”

“SHUT UP!!” Bakugo yells right back, “I’m sort of busy trying to save her ass. Obviously, since that van isn’t a puddle she can’t get out on her own. Probably quirk proof or some shit, knowing the asshole.”

“I’m calling Aizawa.” Sero reaches one hand back to his pocket to get his phone.

Bakugo grunts something that sounds like an affirmation.

A few moments later Aizawa’s gruff voice is asking who the hell is calling him at this hour.

“Aizawa-sensei!!”

“What, Sero.”

“So um, Todoroki! She, um, her dad!!-”

Bakugo growls and snatches the phone, blasting himself with just his left arm. Sero would be impressed if he wasn’t screaming internally as the van takes a sharp left, causing them to slow.

“IcyHot has been kidnapped by her dad.”

“Bakugo, I’m pretty sure that’s called having a child legally, give Sero his pho-”

“No you don’t fucking understand!!” Bakugo shouts, “We watched him drag her away and shove her in a fucking van with a bunch of assholes. He told them to rape her Aizawa. She’s been fucking kidnapped.”

“I- you’re joking.” Aizawa’s slight increase in background noise indicates he’s finally taking action, but the goddamn attitude sets Bakugo the fuck off.

“WHY WOULD I JOKE ABOUT THIS YOU OLD BASTARD!!”

“No, you’re right, sorry. I’m getting Nedzu and sending Midoriya your way.”

“NOT FUCKING DEKU”

“Bakugo Katsuki you will shut up and help your classmate with whoever I send to you or you will be expelled.”

“FUCKIN’- whatever old man. We’re just passing the corner store.”

He shuts the phone off before throwing it carelessly at Sero.

“Bakugo!!” Sero whines as he misses the catch and watches his phone shatter on the pavement.

“Not my fault you can’t catch.” Bakugo retorts, speeding up and launching himself at the van.

Sero follows close behind.

They hear a rhythmic thumping from the inside, Bakugo pales.

“Fuck I think they’re-”

“All the more reason we should blow this fucking van open!” Sero shouts into the wind, shooting tape onto the door handle and yanking the entire thing off.

He pulls the nearest guy out by his leg and throws him onto the median.

“C’mon dipshits!! Quit-”

All fight drains out of him, instead replaced with blinding fury, when he sees Shouto.

Practice uniform already torn to shreds, she’s bleeding profusely from somewhere on her head right onto the cold metal floor of the moving van. Surrounded by several other grown-ass men, all staring at Bakugo like deer in headlights, she’s knocked out cold at their feet.

“You bASTARDS!!” He screeches, storming into the van and grabbing Shouto’s limp body into his arms, thankfully her pants seem to be relatively unharmed, it’s the glistening by her slack mouth that has Katsuki concerned.

The men seem to be too shocked to retaliate, but one of them stands, seeming to prepare some sort of excuse. Sero is faster.

Hanta whips through the vehicle, grabbing both Katsuki and Shouto with his tape, flipping the van onto its side in the process, and carrying all three of them out the other door.

The human scum scatter onto the pavement as the students roll, relatively unharmed, into a parking lot. It’s somewhere in those few seconds when Aizawa arrives, followed by a somewhat feral Midoriya.

“Where’s Shouto,” He picks one of the men up by their collar, throwing him violently back onto the asphalt when he sees his three friends laying in a heap a couple dozen yards away.

“SHOUTO!” He calls, practically teleporting to their location and digging through Katsuki and Sero to reach her.

“Jeez we’re fine too, Deku, thanks for wondering.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, pulling Shouto’s limp body into his arms, “Is she- what happened?”

Sero starts nervously explaining, wringing his hands as he looks back and forth between Shouto’s unconscious form and Izuku’s increasingly rage-filled eyes.

He WHAT?!” Green lightning crackles over his skin, stopped abruptly with a firm hand from Aizawa on his shoulder.

Aizawa walks over and crouches, pulling a swab out of his scarf, “Had Momo make me one,” He grunts at Sero’s confused expression.

He sighs, reaching over to Shouto’s face and swiping it around her lips, “Unfortunately I figured we’d need it.” He tucks it into a plastic bag and stuffs both into his suit pocket.

Katsuki huffs, an unreadable expression fixed on his face as he stares down at the girl.

“They got her pretty good,” He reaches a hand out and tucks a strand of hair over, so Aizawa can get a look at her head injury, “probably tried to put up a fight.”

The teacher nods, “and you heard her father approve this- kidnapping?”

“Yes sir,” Sero speaks up, and Midoriya growls.

“I fuckin’ knew he was bad news,” Katsuki scoffs, “always draggin’ her around and shit. Probably paid for them to fuck her up too. Said he wanted her knocked up.”

“He,” Sero’s voice is strained, “he said she was a disappointment that he was giving up on her. She knows that’s not true- right?”

Aizawa hums, pulling out a bandage to wrap Shouto’s head, “well you’ll just have to show her.”

The boys make eye contact, and Izuku pulls her closer.

“Yeah,” Katsuki agrees, “we will.”

-

Shouto wakes up screaming, clawing at her face as blood begins to seep down her cheeks.

“Todoroki wait!!! Todoroki you’re okay! They’re gone!

Hands pry her bloodied nails away and her energy is sucked away as a kiss is pressed to her cheek.

“You kids I swear, never a dull moment.” Recovery girl tuts.

She passes out again.

-

The next time is much calmer, warm light pools around her eyelids and she cracks them open, reaching a hand up to rub the sleep out of them. But in doing so she jostles the hand that had been resting on her own.

“Todoroki?” Sero whispers, raising his head up slowly, eyes widening, “Todoroki!!”

He lunges forward, encasing Shouto in a bear hug.

“Oi, hands off, she’s in a hospital bed for fuck’s sake tape face.”

“Right,” Sero smiles sheepishly, pulling back, “right sorry.

“It’s okay,” Shouto admits, because she really has no idea why there’s any need to be careful, “I’m fine.”

“Oh?” Katsuki’s raised eyebrows suggest she said something wrong, “You call a nasty concussion and almost clawing your own eyes out fucking fine? Guess we have different definitions of the word.”

Shouto frowns, “I don’t remember that last bit.”

Her head hurts slightly, but she feels like she would remember something like that even through a concussion.

She tracks her memory back to before, but she can’t quite seem to remember-

The van, the men, the smell, the sound as he shoved his-

“Shouto?”

She snaps her head up, “Huh?”

“Sorry, you were quiet for a bit,” Midoriya rests a hand on her blanketed leg and rubs it back and forth, “god nervous. You alright?”

They’re all staring at her now.

“Does he know I’m here?”

All three sets of eyes darken, but it’s Midoriya who speaks up.

“He doesn’t matter. Aizawa has custody of you as of now. Your pitiful excuse for a sperm donor has been taken into police custody for aiding in the rape and kidnapping of a minor.”

Shouto gets a distant look in her eye, “Oh” is all she says.

“They didn’t get that far,” Sero gestures to her bandaged torso, where one of the men had tried to take off her uniform pants.

“But they still-” She begins, suddenly nauseous.

“Yeah, they did. And that bastard has been taken into custody just like the rest of em’, he’s not getting out for awhile, especially since the DNA samples matched.” Bakugo informs her.

“Oh,” Shouto hums absently, “there were samples.”

“Shouto, you with us?” Midroriya squeezes her ankle gently, but she doesn’t respond, “Everything’s gonna be alright now. You can rest.”

And she does.