#that‘s why I put it under a read more

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 12

I apologize for the rather abrupt ending of the last record, as circumstances became rather frantic after the recorded incidents. I will apply my best efforts to summarize the following events shortly. After the human volunteered to perform the repair of the damaged outer hover engine, a rather heated discussion broke loose, concerning the risks and other possible solutions to the current situation. The Vitrichl decided that the human should perform the repair, as long as it was proved that her chance of survival was high enough. Several tests were performed, and all of them concluded that the human had a surprisingly good chance at surviving the excursion, although it was unclear whether she would return unharmed, as there was simply not enough information known about Terrans.

The Vitrichl ordered for a group of personally selected mechanics and scientists of the crew to supervise the excursion over the video recording of the space suit the human would be wearing. I was assigned as a part of this group. The human itself, inexplicably, remained incredibly calm, seemingly not grasping the gravity of the situation at hand. Despite my best efforts to make her aware of the responsibility she was assigned, she remained unresponsive. "I am applying my best efforts to make you aware of the risk you are taking.", I stated, trailing after her. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I read the safety thingy, like, three times. And basically the entire board team will be there to guide me through the entire process and tell me exactly what to do. I'll basically not even have to think myself." "I would appreciate it if you did not neglect your thought process during such an important task." "Of course I won't actually stop thinking, it's just a way of speaking. Anyway, you'll have the entire video footage from my suit and as long as the suit remains intact, I should be fine.", Quinn continued. "Still, the probability that the system fails and you do not return…" "Is low enough.", Quinn cut me off.

"Listen, you oughta stop worrying. I might know nothing about alien technology, but this crew knows about it. And, to our luck, I'll have direct contact to them the entire time." She stepped into her assorted suit, machines around her closing and tying everything into place. Eventually, a helmet was lowered onto her head, the reflective surface hiding her face. She extended her right arm, lowering all her fingers except for the first and biggest one, which she pointed upwards. I could not decipher the purpose of this gesture, and as I could not see her facial expression, I was not able put any of my previous knowledge of humans to use.

The human underwent several further safety checks, before the medicals decided it would be appropriate to start the mission at that time. The task of the human was first to simply observe the entire damage, in order to confirm that our monitors grasped the entire extent of the damage. Furthermore, she should, under our supervision and precise instructions, reverse the worst damage she could and, at best, reverse the engine into a working state. The human was transferred into the duct from where all outerboard missions that did not require any larger equipment where started. As soon as the door opened and the human stepped into the void, medicals and scientists scrambled to examine her vitals. "Vitals are steady", a medical informed. Wrin pressed several keys on the control board, establishing the communication line between Quinn's suit and the SIIR Noxos. "Okay, Quinn, how do you feel?", Wrin, who was, for their standards, surprisingly sober, spoke into the communication tool. "Well, I feel like I've just drank a shit ton of water and then gone onto a roller coaster one too many times. Besides that, wow", Quinn's voice sounded from the other end. "Alright, I'm just going to pretend I understood any of that. So, give us a bit to get the suit camera sorted and then you can go on.", Wrin drawled, pressing a few more keys on one of the monitors. As the technicians confirmed a stable signal, Wrin began to guide Quinn into the direction of the damaged engine.

The human's vitals remained stable as she approached the engine in question. As instructed, the human began a scan of the area through her suit, linking the results directly into the main control quarters. Through the analyzation of the information, the technicians were able to confirm that there was no worse damage than our previous scans had recorded.

The human began to work on the engine. She removed the outer layer of metal within a few moments, which was almost fully demolished. As she worked towards middle of the structure, I observed her every step. She moved coordinated and careful, as if frightened that the engine might implode if she didn't (which was, admittedly, a rather real threath). Eventually, she removed a piece of charred metal, exposing an accumulation of cables. Wrin straightened as I took the communication tool from them and spoke into it: "Quinn, these cables are of high importance. Would you be able to reach the brown cable and remove it from its place? As careful as possible.", I added. Despite my, in my eyes, rather clear instructions, the human continued to reach towards a completely wrong cable. "Human", I interjected. "I do not mean to be insensitive, but that is not the cable I was referring to." "Huh? But that one's brown?", the human responded, tone signaling possible confusion, although I could not be sure, as her face was still hidden. "Human-", I started once again, thinking of the most polite way to phrase the following statement, but I could not finish, as Wrin pushed me away rather aggressively before taking the communication tool themselves. "Quinn, the mechanic‘s referring to the second cable from the far right.", Wrin eludicated. "…but that one's Magenta!", Quinn protested further. "Not to the mechanic. Different eyes, different colour perception.", Wrin quipped. Quinn said something indiscernably quiet, before continuing, carefully following Wrin's instructions. As these records' purpose is to observe human behaviour, I will not go into much detail describing the repair. If you wish to obtain more precise information about the details of this particular repair, I suggest you visit the archives, in which we keep all records of repairs, routine check-ups and everything else regarding the state of the ship, to gain a further insight.

The human proceeded the repair, although another thing of note happened rather towards the end: After the human had reconnected several wires and added a new protective layer on the engine's surface, the technicians tested whether or not the engine would start, obviously after the human had moved to a safe distance. The technicians started the engine at its highest setting, but with no success. No sound emitted from the engine. "Wait, let me try something.", the human sounded over the communication line. In spite of any common sense, the human moved closer towards the engine. The human inspected the engine, before suddenly, for some to me inexplicable reason, hitting the engine repeatedly with the flatter side of her hand. "Alright, try again." "Human Quinn, it is imperative that you move out of the immediate proximity of the engine.", I stated, but the human refused. "No, I wanna try something." "Human, it is-" "On one, come on, guys.", Quinn cut me off. "Start the engine on one." Against better judgement, the technicians began to prepare another start of the engine. "Okay, ready? Three, two, one, go!", besides my best efforts to stop them, the technicians started the engine at the exact time as Quinn hit its outer layer again. Fortunately, the engine did start. Unfortunately, the stuttering start of the engine produced a pressure wave that catapulted the Terran away from it. Eventually, her body was stopped by the cable attached to form a connection between the space suit that the human was wearing, and the SIIR Noxos. The body of the human did not move. Wrin, seemingly concerned, spoke into the communication line. "Quinn?" It took a few moments before we received any kind of answer, the silence filled with a slight buzzing sound. Then we registered the human's voice over the line. At first, the human only produced several sounds, possibly signaling pain. Then: "Well, I'm never doing that again." A pause. "Did it work? Is the engine stable?" "The engine is running. I wouldn't call it stable, but it will get us far enough.", one of the technicians informed.

Silence.

"Alright, Quinn, we‘re going to pull you back into the ship. Try not to move too much and uh…don‘t die.", Wrin spoke up.

"I can do that."

As the retraction program was started, I, accompanied by Wrin proceeded towards the intertravel duct. The human arrived shortly afterwards.

The suit seemed to be unharmed, a good sign, but its owner did not.

As a robotic arm removed the helmet and started to disassemble the suit, the human stumbled out. Stumbling, that was not a good sign. The human’s complexion was even paler than its naturally bright shade. And the skin of her face seemed to have a slight green undertone. Had it always been there? I could not recall. Perhaps their skin changed colours, similar to Wrin‘s species?

I was brought away from these suspicions, as the human opened her mouth and released a brown-green, odd-smelling fluid out of her mouth and onto the floor. This couldn‘t be normal, could it?

The human was immediately referred into the, for a ship and crew this size admittedly rather small, hospital wing. The medicals are currently observing and recording any interesting observations regarding the human‘s body. Unfortunately, while the medicals are treating Quinn to the best of their ability, it is difficult, as there is so little known about humans.

Although, perhaps this way I will receive more information regarding the anatomy of humans.

I will continue to record the recovery and the state of the human.

[skipper1331]

Secret (3) // Alexia Putellas

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | extra |

You woke up with a pounding in your head, the alcohol showing its aftereffects.

This wasn’t your bedroom… but why was it so familiar? When you slowly sat up, you tried to orientate yourself, only the few rays of sunlight illuminating the room. Angry grumbles filled the room as you did so - that‘s when it hit you.

Alexia,

the woman who grumbled furiously in her sleep when you left her touch. The person who hated it when she couldn’t have at least one arm around you while sleeping - "I need to protect you."

And indeed you were right, Ale was peacefully sleeping next to you, hidden under the duvet, soft snores escaping her mouth.

You looked down your body, you were naked and littered in hickeys - Alexia had done a great job in marking you, her possessiveness apparently taking over.

How did this happen…?

Pulling the duvet back up to cover your exposed body, your eyes fell once again on the sleeping beauty.

You knew you should leave before she woke up, but you couldn't. You were under her spell - you had to stay, at least for a few more minutes. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed.

Your broken heart was healing by just looking at her - you knew it was wrong but what your mind said and heart felt were different pair of shoes.

After a good 10 minutes you were finally able to tear yourself away as you gathered your clothes from the floor and headed out of the bedroom, putting on your clothes.

You couldn’t leave yet though, knowing that her head would hurt as much as yours did at the moment. so you walked into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water, made a sandwich and got some painkillers against the headache - not for yourself but for Alexia.

With breakfast and pills in your hand, you walked back into her bedroom as quietly as possible. You put it down on her nightstand, intending to leave the room when the midfielder turned around, her hand reaching for you.

You froze.

"5 more minutes amor" she mumbled with her eyes closed, "por favor"

Not knowing what to do, you bend down, caressing her cheek and sweetly kissing her forehead "okay" like you always had done it.

"Te amo"

-

The first thing you did when you arrived at home was laying down on the couch, turning on the tv.

You had the day off, you were hungover - no need to do anything else but relax.

Around afternoon, your door bell rang.

You groaned, annoyed that you had to get up and pause your show in the middle of a thrilling scene.

As you opened the door, you were met with flowers - you couldn’t even the see the person who was holding them, that much flowers in their hands.

"Come in" you took some of the flowers - they looked amazing and smelled like spring - the person grateful for your help. The person followed you to the kitchen, still a bunch of flowers blocking their view.

Arrived in the kitchen, they put them down on the counter, revealing who she was but you knew that already.

Alexia,

was the only person who knew all of your favourite flowers and the only person who ever bought you some.

"hola" she greeted, nervously playing with her fingers.

She hadn’t been here in quite some time.

"Thank you for the breakfast this morning" she said.

Shortly after you had left, the midfielder had woken up, the smell of sandwiches filling the room and the feeling of something - someone - missing, waking her up.

She knew it was you straightaway, not only because of obvious reasons and parts of her memory but also the sandwich gave it away. You were never big fan of taking pills without food in your stomach and you had scowled at Alexia each time when she did so.

You nodded, continuing to put the flowers in vases - just as your body was littered in hickeys, your kitchen island was littered in varieties of flowers, many questions in your head

Why was she her? With flowers? So many of them too? How many were there anyway? Surely not just for a thank you.

"513" she said, almost as if she could read your mind. Somehow she could. She always knew what you thought or what you needed yet she was just too stupid to fulfill the one thing that you actually needed for this relationship to work.

"One for each day where I didn't tell anyone about us plus 20 for the 20€ I offered Alba" she explained, looking directly at you, "I’m sorry- very sorry for- well, for everything. I’m sorry for not taking you out on dates. I’m so sorry for letting you feel like my dirty little secret and for neglecting you outside of our apartments. You did not and do not deserve that because you‘re" subconsciously the corners of her lips turned upwards, her eyes turning into heart eyes, "you are truly amazing and wonderful and pretty and perfect, and the nicest, most caring and loving person I know and so much more" she carried on, "I did not deserve your kindness. I was scared because the feelings you let me feel are so overwhelming and I thought if we- told other people and then broke up, that I wouldn’t recover from that. The thought of the media and fans harassing us scared me too, more than I like to admit. It‘s no excuse, I just wanted to let you know. But the truth is it made no difference whether the people knew about us or not because I am not recovering from my heart break. And that‘s my own fault. You deserve better than me, I know that, but it kills me to imagine you with someone else. I want to do better. I need to do better and fight for us? because you- you are the love of my life. All of your romance books combined wouldn’t be enough to describe the things i feel for you."

You had stopped your movements awhile ago, shocked about everything she was telling you, "even just seeing you with my sister angered the Hulk out of me and we share the same blood" you let out a shaky laugh, the Hulk movie sadly one of the worst Marvel movies you had watched together.

Both of you were silent for a moment, "i‘m-"

"I-"

small giggles escaped the two of you as you started at the same time, "please continue" Ale said, smiling slightly.

"I don‘t know what to say, if I’m being honest" you admitted, overwhelmed by the situation.

"You don‘t have to. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry and how sorry I truly am. I was never ashamed of you, just scared. You can do whatever you want with that now"

you let her words sink in, hands gripping the kitchen counter while you‘re mind was trying to process everything.

"I‘m hoping that one day, you‘ll be able to forgive me" she inhaled sharply, "and eventually for another chance." it was mumbled, almost inaudible.

She looked so small and vulnerable while she avoided eye contact. Her elegant and strict presence wasn‘t existing anymore, she was just a girl with a broken heart.

"Ale-"

"You don’t- i know- i- I’ll be waiting for you" she muttered, getting up. She walked around the kitchen island, pressing a gentle yet longing and lingering kiss to your temple, tearfully pulling back. She just couldn't stop herself from giving you that little kiss.

Was it the last one forever?

"Lo siento muchísimo"

You let her walk out of the kitchen as she turned around one last time, standing at door the door frame, "i will fight for you unless you say something else"

You were too stunned and shocked to say anything. Everything that happened in the last few minutes played out over and over again in your mind while your eyes followed the midfielder walking out of view.

So many thoughts argued in your head - not one thought clear, nor one gaining the upper hand. Everything was blurry, so confusing. Why couldn't it be easy? Love was so easy for everyone else... why not for you?

You had a good heart - you had to do it.

As usual, your mind was completely against it, but your heart and brain never shared the same opinion. You wanted it - you wanted her. Your heart was practically screaming after her which was why you followed her.

You wouldn’t let her walk through that door, like she had let you.

"Alexia"

She stopped in her tracks, not turning around, expecting you to tell her that there was no point in fighting for you.

Just get over it, please

"Look at me" your voice sounded firm yet caring. She couldn’t predict what your next move was - she was completely clueless, but expected more hurt than just her broken heart which already was one of the worst pains, she had ever suffered from.

Nonetheless she obeyed.

As you looked at her, you realized that your heart wasn‘t able to fight against your brain.

If you forgave her now, it would just show how easy it was to manipulate you.

An apology, no matter how sincere it was and no matter how sweet it was that she had bought you flowers (which had probably cost a lot), wouldn’t heal your wounds. Your pride and pain was still too present. It wouldn't be that easy for her. She had some serious groveling to do.

This time her name wasn’t enough for her to get everything she wanted or had set her mind to.

"Don‘t forgot to drink enough water" you said, internally slapping yourself for that comment.

Your heart wanted to say 'Promise me to try hard enough', so she would know that there was still hope. Because there was. She was your love and your greatest love story. Every part in your body loved her and she loved you, but sometimes love wasn‘t (strong) enough. And even though she didn‘t deserve you at the moment, she deserved the chance to fight for you. She just had to figure that by herself.

You let her walk through that door, like she had let you, hoping that she would try hard enough.

[angelicjungwon]

heeseung - enemies to lovers kinda thing

plot: you and heeseung are at the same uni, sharing the same classes and exchanging glances every chance you get.

you hated him, he hated you. it was a mutual feeling, at least that‘s what you thought.

but one party and a few drinks changed it all.

word count: 1089

tw: heeseung being mean, suggestive talk (tiniest bit), university & classes lmao, alcohol, idk if i forgot something

—

There he was again, sitting right where you were able to see him. He wasn’t listenting to the lecture, all he was doing was staring at you and pretending to take notes.

You knew he never studied or took notes, this man was not only gifted with his looks but also with a great memory. He didn‘t need notes or books, all he had to do was listening to watch the professor said once and it was embedded in his brain.

He was your ideal type to be exact. He was smart, handsome, tall, had a great fashion sense and he loved tea, coffee and books as much as you did.

You have met him way too many times at your favourite café but you avoided him.

You two rarely exchanged words, only if needed to.

The reason you disliked each other was easy - you two liked each other but your pride was too high to accept it.

He was known to be a player, at least rumors made him to be and you hated player with a passion but that was not the only reason.

He once made a remark to his friend group, stating that he‘d never in a million years go out with someone like you.

Usually it wouldn’t hurt you hear a man say that, of course it‘s a little off putting but you knew well enough that it usually comes from men who are insecure, however him saying that kinda hurt, considering that he never really talked to you before.

He was making you lose your mind and focus, every class you attended your focus was on him and him only.

"You‘re staring at Heeseung again." Your friend Jungwon said, shaking your shoulder a little. "But this time in disgust, stop it, it looks weird." He added, making you chuckle. "Why does he keep looking at me if he thinks I‘m so ugly."

You muttered under your breath, your eyes not leaving Heeseung.

"I don‘t know, go ask him yourself." Jungwon chuckled and pushed your head to face the tutor. "You look desperate…"

And with that, you only side eyed him for the rest of the lesson before heading out once it was over, deciding to get coffee at your favourite local café while reading over the notes you made during class.

"Stalking me, hm?" A familiar voice asked, you looked up and rolled your eyes. "You wish." You mumbled, facing your notes again. The person you least wanted to see right now, Heeseung himself.

"Jake is having a party at his parents place, they‘re out of town. You should come." He said, handing you a piece of paper with the address. "Why would I?" You asked, making him laugh. "Jungwon said he won’t come if we don‘t invite you. Be a good friend and just stay for at least an hour. I haven’t talked to him in ages, I wanna catch up a little." He said, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

"I‘ll think about it."

And with that you sat in your dorm room, staring at the blank wall of your non-existent roommate. You enjoyed that you were alone, you‘d dislike it more if you had someone in your room every single day and lets not forget, that if you ever felt lonely, Jungwon would spend the night over, telling you all about his dance practices.

You took out your phone to text him, letting him know you‘ll join him on his way to the party, making sure to mention that it was only for an hour and that you two will leave as fast as possible.

Well, let‘s say, the plan did not work out, as two hours later, you were on Jake‘s couch, a little too tipsy, talking to Sunghoon, a friend of Jake, about the most weirdest things possible. It began with eating habits and now turned into 'imagine you could drink soup with your butthole' kinda conversations.

"Are you and Jungwon a couple?" Heeseung said as he took a seat next to you, handing you a cup of whatever alcoholic drink it was.

"Nope, we‘re just friends, no worries, you have Jungwon all to yourself." You replied sarcastically, taking a sip from the cup in your hand as you turned your attention back to Sunghoon.

His eyes never left you, however whenever he did turn away, your eyes didn‘t leave him. Every once in a while you two caught each other staring, however once you two had enough alcohol in your blood, it almost turned into a staring contest. You were in one corner for the room, he was in another, eyes never leaving each other.

You both clearly had the same thought process in that moment, the tension was so intense, everyone else was able to feel it as well.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone, his closest friends new he wanted you the day he met you. He couldn’t stop talking about you and once they asked why he didn’t just ask you out, he‘d find excuse like 'not my type' or 'not interested' but everyone knew that he was just too butthurt about the fact that you didn‘t swarm over him like everyone else did.

That was his way of coping, they supposed.

"Heeseung stop staring at (y/n), just go ask-" before Jake could finish his sentence, Heeseung was already on his way over to you.

"I know you want me." He said, leaning over to you, causing you to laugh. "More like, you want me. I see you eyeing me down from back there." He smirked at your response, he did want you.

"Fuck you‘re right." He mumbled, staring at your lips before licking his own. "You have no idea how much I want you, love." He added, eyes back on yours.

"But as much as I do, I would prefer to have this conversation again once we‘re both sober. As the gentleman I am, I‘d like my partners to not be intoxicated before I make any moves. Gotta make sure everything is consensual." He exhaled, unlocking his phone before handing it to you.

"How about you and I get coffee after class on Monday?" He suggested, making you smile.

"Mhm, sounds good to me." You replied, typing your number in his phone before handing it back.

"And bring a list of your favourite books and songs at the moment, I‘d love to get to know you." He winked before leaning back on the couch, getting involved in everyone‘s normal conversations again.

[juvenillia]

~Just an idea~

Okay, that‘s gonna be my brainrot for Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x reader and maybe I’ll turn it into a fic / chapter collection

Update: started the fic read here

Disclaimer: I literally have barely an idea about the actual cod lore, English isn't my first language

A/N: I’m just a needy gremlin for this man and my weakness is damn slow burn enemies to lovers, but with Simon it wouldn’t be a direct way from strangers to lovers, it would be the whole way from strangers, to kinda enemies, to comrades, to friends and after a bloody long time it would become more and they eventually find their peace together. Also, if I'm gonna turn it into a series, it's gonna be more oc related because I want to give her a full-on past and stuff. Hope that would be okay.

Should I make it a series?

Simon Ghost Riley who hated change, especially when there was a change within the team. It took him already so much effort, nerves, and time to get along with his current teammates, so why did they need another one? A new teammate he needed to learn to read, and much more, to fully trust.

Simon Ghost Riley who literally had not enough mental energy to get through another whole “get to know” progress, keeping up with Soap and Gaz costed him enough energy. Don’t get him wrong, he would immediately jump to catch a bullet for either of them, but they still were a pain in his ass.

Simon Ghost Riley who gets reminded by his captain that the 141 is more than a team, and just like a family, the team will also grow. So, he had no choice than accepting his new teammate.

Simon Ghost Riley who learns that he literally despises you, because he simply is unable to predict you. You’re too much at ease. You’re too caring. Your switching moods are the reasons of his headaches. Your way of thinking during missions is too unconventional. And you’re – just like him – closing everyone off from your private life.

Simon Ghost Riley who maybe learns to respect you. The despise slowly melting into a friendly relationship between comrades. Watching with a soft gaze how Soap, you and Gaz are chatting in the common room about everything under the sun. Listening attentive to your words during a briefing. Smiling even the slightest under his balaclava when you put some of the new recruits in line.

Simon Ghost Riley who can read your “on mission persona” perfectly. Working in tandem with little hand signs, the smallest amount of an eyesight. Growing to have a flow together. Enemies beware.

Simon Ghost Riley who starts to believe, that he could trust you. That all the effort would be worthy to really get to know you, and he is shocked that for once, he wants to learn about a person. At the same time, he’s scared, scared of making himself too vulnerable because of you.

Simon Ghost Riley who starts to enjoy your company, maybe a bit too much. Either on missions or just at the base. A comforting silence between the soft talks you share. Sitting next to each other while smoking in silence. Sharing a late-night cup of tea. Making cocky and flirty comments, but of course only jokingly. ONLY jokingly of course. He reminds himself.

Simon Ghost Riley who looks into a mirror when staring into your eyes. He sees your scars, your pain, and still, they look back at him soft and calm. He has only one thing on his mind: Maybe, just maybe this once

Simon Ghost Riley who holds on to your body when injured on the battlefield. Cutting out the heartbroken yells from Johnny while he carries you to the medevac and whispers in your ears to stay with him.

Simon Ghost Riley who would never admit it but grew way too attached to you.

Simon Ghost Riley who had no idea that his fate was sealed the day you walked into the common room to introduce yourself to the 141.

Simon Ghost Riley who cursed himself for all his thoughts that kept him awake late at night, because all those thoughts were only circling around you.

[banzaitaka]

Yandere themes

Hunter x Hunter_Phantom Troupe_Masterlist

Feitan Portor x gn! reader

Response

"You slept well?"

A question that should be relatively easy to answer. Even if one would consider the quality of their slumber to be hard to put into words, or determine if it was a positive experience or not, that question shouldn’t leave someone with a tight throat. Locking eyes with your captor for a second, you pondered about how you should answer. Answering truthfully, as if it wasn’t the cold-hearted man who kidnapped you that was standing in front of you, and instead someone you’d deem close to you like a friend, actually was pretty easy; No, you slept horribly. Insomnia already had been in your life for a while, but this was getting on a new level.

Your heart was always beating so hard you could feel it all across your body. Every little sound made you flinch. And the blinking, red light of the camera in the upper corner of the room had you frozen, scared to move. Under these circumstances (and more) it was obviously hard to relax, which is why you only ever were able to fall asleep when you were absolutely exhausted and could barely keep your eyes open. (Unless Feitan felt generous enough to drug your drink with sleep medicine) Still, you rarely fell into a deep slumber. And instead your situation plagued you even further in dreamland. What you had hoped could be an escape from the “love“ of your captor revealed itself as something just as horrific, maybe even more so.

On good nights, your nightmares simply replayed some scenarios you felt uncomfortable in, on bad nights, they replayed scenes you prayed to only witness in fiction. And on the worst nights, your fears of what else could happen, no matter how silly the thought was, welcome themselves in as well. You started cursing out that part of your brain that was responsible for the images of your inner eyes for it being just as much of a sadist as the one demanding you to call him your lover.

Lover.

It was clear to you that Feitan‘s attraction to you was more obsession than anything more innocent and pure like “love“. You dared to utter those thoughts to him only once before. The way his eyes wrinkled with joy at your words made you regret your words instantly, you couldn‘t even begin to guess why he was smiling befind the big collar. Was he amused by your guts to dare say such a thing to his face? Was he content with the word you used to describe his feelings towards you? Was he imagining your face twisting in pain as he punished you for your boldness? It never came clear to you, and that‘s why you went back to walking on egg shells around the man, more on your toes than ever. Oh, how you wished you could read him better, or he would reveal more of his wants, you believed it would make your life- no, this wasn‘t a life- your stay much easier. And maybe a good rest, with nothing but an endless void of nothingness in your mind, would find its way to you. A fantasy like this was all the hope you could get, so you took it, wholeheartedly.

Feitan raised a brow at your hesitation. This was a simple ‘yes‘ or ‘no‘ question, answering shouldn’t take so long even if you were an idiot sometimes. He was not oblivious to the war going on inside your head wether you should speak the truth or not. That was exactly the reason why he thought you were an idiot. The hand sliding over your waist had you snapping out of your thoughts and your gaze back to the black-haired laying next to you on the bed. The soft circles of his thumb over your exposed skin was a huge contrast to the cuts and bruises he gifted you before. So much of a clear contrast that you got the feeling he was urging you into choosing one answer over the other. A hint of how you could make the day into a good one for yourself. A hint of what he wanted.

You took it, clutching the shimmer of hope in your hand as you sighed, “Yeah, I slept real good.“, your smile was small, but present. You even made sure to wrinkle your eyes just a tiny bit to make it look real. And you really hoped that would be enough happiness, even if it was faux, to satisfy him and his sick, twisted views. His lips closed into a straight line, face free from his seemingly constant frown, and you cheered for yourself in victory. You allowed him to pull you closer to him. If this is what you had to endure to have one good day, then so be it. You sighed again, this time with a real, relieved smile, snuggling closer to your ‘lover‘ to make him think you really meant it, just so you can relax for once. The hand that didn‘t rest on your waist crawled up into your hair, fingers combing through your locks. Okay, maybe putting your hand on his chest is a good way to respond.

One harsh tug on your hair destroyed all the hope you had, and you couldn‘t help but gasp in shock. With your hair in his tight grip, he angled your head so you‘d be looking at him. There it was, the frown. But! But didn‘t you respond the way he wanted? He was always the one who wanted to pretend what was going on in this house was okay, and saying otherwise was just asking for punishment. So why-

“You lying.“, oh, “I watched you sleep. Could barely relax your face.“, a smile edged on his face, “Now, what do liars deserve?“

[josefavomjaaga]

hey, re: one of your latest posts, is there any merit whatsoever to the rumours that napoleon had an affair with his stepdaughter? and if not, why did they arise?

[Muttering under her breath - I never should have opened this can of worms… why can I never keep my mouth shut...]

Well, hi and thank you for the question. 😁

Okay, first of all: No, I do not think there is a single serious historian today who actually believes the rumours about Napoleon being the father of Hortense‘s oldest son. And while I don‘t like Napoleon much myself I also don‘t believe it. Napoleon‘s early letters, particularly from the time of the Consulate, to Hortense are a fun read and show a (step-)father talking to his daughter, and that‘s just that. The child was born ten months after Hortense‘s marriage, so there is no reason to even assume the father was anybody but Hortense‘s husband.

Does it rule out the possibility? No, of course not.

According to Hortense‘s memoirs, the first rumours of this kind came from British newspapers. Which is quite possible, as the Peace of Amiens was shaky from the beginning and some parties were actively working to break it up. There were nasty rumours and disparaging pamphlets galore. Also according to Hortense, Napoleon was secretely quite content about this, as he suspected this nephew might be more easily accepted as Napoleon‘s successor if people supposed Napoleon to be the father. Later, it‘s the pamphlets by Lewis Goldsmith, an Anglo-French publicist working for both sides, who repeated and invented the most disgusting slander (including incestuous relationships).

In truth, there are some passages from Laure Junot‘s memoirs (for what those are worth, of course!), relating to the time of the Consulate, describing how Napoleon entered Laure's bedroom in Malmaison at nights and how he got really furious when she locked her door, to the point she insisted Junot spend the night with her at Malmaison. This would point to Napoleon really taking some liberties with the young ladies of his entourage. That Napoleon in general was not the most virtuous of husbands is a well-known fact, even if we do not have to go as far as Bausset, who years later in a fit would claim to Marie Louise that Napoleon »had had every lady of her court for a shawl« (except for Madame de Montebello, for whom it took three).

Hortense, from 1808 on and with a short interruption in early 1810 stayed, far away from her husband, in Paris at court and at the least lived a life in a dubious position for a married woman. She had one lover she admits to in her memoirs (Flahaut), but all her life she loved to be surrounded by a circle of admirers, so she was rumoured to have many more. The birth of future Napoleon III gave reason to much gossip in Paris and was the reason why Louis broke with Hortense completely. Apparently, everybody and their grandmom was convinced Louis was not the father, despite pretending the opposite. At the very least, Hortense was the only one among the not-altogether-virtuous Imperial ladies who managed to get herself so deeply into trouble that she had to secretely escape to Switzerland in order to give birth to a child. But even that cannot have been all that much of a secret later, considering that the Duc de Morny was openly talked about as being »né Hortense«.

Many memoirs of the time mention or hint at the rumours about Napoleon's alleged affair with Hortense, and the vast majority declare them as false. The only important memoirs that I know of that explicitely confirm them are Fouché‘s. But those are, while not entirely apocryphal, of dubious authenticity, as they were published after his death under the Bourbon Restauration, put together from Fouché‘s papers. The Bourbon Restauration again produced an abundance of pamphlets and of course jumped at the occasion to repeat these allegations over and over again.

To sum up: There were plenty of rumours already during the Empire, and neither Napoleon‘s nor Hortense‘s personal way of life did much to disencourage them. There is, however, also not a single piece of evidence for them to be true. I'm not sure if this really answers your question, and I wish there was a way to disprove them entirely, but this is the best answer I can give. If anybody has additional information, I'd love to hear it!

As to Napoleon, he on Saint Helena dismissed the idea of an affair with his stepdaughter at one point as stupid because »everybody knows Hortense is ugly«.

Well, thank you, I guess.

[ao3screenshotss]

Honestly I think about the orphan thing— it‘s just about connotations. It‘d just how we use it. And I think that makes sense, since we all lose our parents at some point, but it‘s a special case when you use them when you‘re still a child. A childhood without a parent is different to adulthood without your parent. I don‘t think it‘s about comparing pain or dismissing it at all. I connect the term orphan to child without parents, because that‘s just how we use it. I‘ve gotten corrections on my papers for technicalities as well, and I understand why they do it (it‘s just the way that term is used— so linguistically, technically that doesn‘t work. You can express the pain using all kinds of words, orphan just isn‘t one cause she‘s an adult and we only use that term for children)

(Which makes sense, because a child without parents is a special case! Everybody loses their parents at some point, but mostly once you‘re an adult yourself. Losing one as a child is also relatively common. Losing both is rare (rarer anyway), so that‘s why we‘ve got a special term. And I know it is always painful, but please don‘t say it‘s not uniquely horrible for a child, just situation-wise. I don‘t at all mean to minimize the pain of losing any loved one at any age, I mean to say, as an adult, (like a proper adult, middle-aged) it‘s less detrimental to your situation at large. I think losing both parents during childhood deserves its own term, you know?)

(I really just want to say that I don‘t think there‘s anything mean or heartless about it, it makes a ton of sense that our language is like this. Just say she lost her father; people understand that pain, of course they do.)

(Sorry that this is so long and I just keep adding more but I want to clarify why I care about this— I think it‘s really important to be careful with heavy, like, judgment. This just feels like cynicism. If everybody‘s just quick to be cynical then where‘s the world heading, y‘know? Sry for being so serious though, and I don‘t mean to be accusatory to anyone at all)

i am so sorry oh my god i had this saved in my drafts for ages i didn’t realise i forgot to post it i replied and everything- i’m just gonna post what i wrote earlier and put it under a read more cause it’s a tiny bit long

i think i kinda understand the point you're trying to make - the words that are coming to mind for me is emotional maturity. if an adult's parents died when they were an adult, they still got to experience a childhood with their parents, but it's not the same with a child who's parents died when they were children.

i was also thinking about how i don't really see adults who were orphans as a child still referred to as orphans. i think that they still count, since they did go through the experience of losing parents when they were a child, but when they become adults they're suddenly just adults and i do think it's interesting how the 'title' (not as in a privilege or anything but you know what i mean) of orphan seems to disappear even though to the person the experience obviously doesn't (makes me think about how once you're 18 the foster care system doesn't really count you as part of them but that's too much to get into)

i think all in all you're right when it all just comes down to connotations. especially if it's how we use it and how other people we know might use it. i do understand by what you mean when you say having a term for a child losing their parents at a young age, it's a different experience than an adult would have, so it deserves its own term too.

either way, thank you for sending this! it's making me sad but it's really interesting to think about!! you did end up changing my view on the word so i'll make sure to think about that if i use it again!!!

[lenissa]

(Not So) Obvious (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

masterlist

warnings: none

summary: Bucky almost gives up asking you the most important question of your life when you seem to just not get it.

word count: 1.5K

happy reading!

————

James Buchanan Barnes.

The man of your dreams. The man of your reality. Of your past, present and future. So how come you were so bad at recognizing his plans for a shared future?

It all started when you heard of the engagement of your friends Hope and Scott - Bucky was so happy for them… but the whole time the couple told him the story about how Scott asked Hope to marry him, he could only imagine your possible answer if he would ask you that question. He decided that he was ready for the next step. Were you though?

There was only one way to find out.

Well, or in your case: five.

Bucky, the old romantic he was, wanted everything to be perfect. So, when you returned from a mission that took longer than expected, he created a romantic candlelight dinner. Or at least that was what he was trying to.

After you got back, you went to have a shower real quick and then went to spend the evening with Bucky. You were really exhausted but you saw how excited your boyfriend was at you returning, so you kept it together and tried to not fall asleep on the table.

Tho when he noticed that you were leaning against your fork and your eyes were already close to sinking, he took your hand and looked at you with worried eyes. “Hey honey, are you okay?”

“Tired…that‘s all”, you mumbled and Bucky noticed your inability to keep your eyes open for more than ten seconds.

“Why don‘t we postpone that dinner to another evening?” Bucky sighed and squeezed your hand.

“You‘re not mad?”

“Of course I‘m not mad, you just came home from a long, exhausting mission. Now come on, I‘m gonna take you to bed.” He stood up and pulled you with him, and then put his arms around your shoulder to steady you.

“I could just marry you, man of my dreams.” You uttered tiredly under your breath.

Bucky gulped, the weight of the engagement ring in his jeans pocket doubled at the hint.

The next time he tried to ask you the question, he went for a special walk with you on a late autumn evening. It was perfect: september sun was shining, leaves started to change colours, and a fresh breeze was in the air.

When he took the corner that leads to the place you first met, an old kickboxing studio, he realized that he could discard his plans all over again.

“w-what? why?” You pouted at the now empty place where some of your favorite memories together were made.

He turned around at the sound of you sounding sad and smiled apologetically. “I‘m so sorry. I thought it was cute, I didn‘t know it got knocked down.”

You stepped forward and hugged him, leaning against his chest, and hummed faintly. “You couldn‘t know, darling. It was a cute idea.” You kissed him and the only thing he could think about was how you hopefully would kiss him much stormier if you knew the real reason for your walk to this place.

Bucky wouldn‘t give up though. He organized everything again for a special occasion: the 4th anniversary of your relationship.

He booked a luxury hotel a bit away from the town, so you two could relax and enjoy some time without agents or fellow Avengers buzzing around.

Bucky put your suitcases in the car, drove the first bit, and when you parked on a public layby, he was checking if he had the ring with him.

Yes, he had the ring, but he found something different too. Your car had a flat tyre.

Bucky got so angry that he dropped his coffee and kicked against the tyre when you came out of the bathroom and saw his tantrum. You hastily walked to him and tried to grab him by his shoulders, of no avail of course, but at least your touch seemed to calm him.

“What is it??” You put your hands on his cheeks, looking him deep in his eyes, scared to find a dark part of his personality shining through.

“Everything is going wrong.“

“That‘s not true. We both had coffee, and we listened to great music. We are both here together and we love each other. What do we want more?”

“A promise for the future.” He mumbled ununderstandable to you while melting in your touch.

“I love you, you grump.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, so close you could even hear his breathing calm down. You sighed in relief that he was better, though you still worried about his sudden change of mood.

“You would talk to me if there was something else?” You asked him with expectant eyes, trying to understand his behaviour. But he nodded and smiled, and assured you that he was okay.

Bucky was annoyed. And he lost his patience. And he wanted to be more obvious from now on.

So when he wore a T-shirt saying “Marry Me?” and you asked him if that was an old shirt of Scott, he almost got insane.

“No - uhm, actually it‘s mi-”

“Bucky!! Have you noticed that Redwing changed colours?” Peter walked in the living room of the compound, completely clueless that he interrupted a very important moment. “Oh! Nice shirt. Scott has the same, right?”

Bucky blushed and went back to his shy self. He couldn‘t ask you the question while wearing a shirt your friend had already worn some time ago.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He plopped onto the couch next to you and put his arms around you, for you to snuggle into him. “I probably mixed it up when I took down the wash.”

Your boyfriend began to ask himself if that all was some crazy sign from the universe. Maybe you two just were not meant to get married? So, he swore to himself that he will try one last time before giving up.

You were reading in your bedroom when you suddenly noticed an unevenness in the paper. Confused, you turned to the next page and found a small silver ring stuck.

Bucky was just returning from training with Steve as you grabbed the ring and touched it carefully. He saw that you found it and immediately stopped walking, red cheeks forming and his heartbeat faster than ever.

“Look Bucky, there was a ring in my book!”

He sighed and started walking to the bathroom again, closing the door with a loud noise. You didn‘t think too much about it, maybe he just had a not so nice training with Steve or got a new mission he didn‘t like.

Then, he finished showering, laid down on the bed next to you and you asked him if he wanted to watch a series. He nodded and you turned the tv on, grabbed some snacks and cuddled up with him.

When a episode of the sitcom played in which the main characters got engaged, he rolled his eyes and eyed you tensed. But you just sat there, eating popcorn and staring at the tv screen. The scene ended and Bucky knew he was done with the whole marrying thing.

Though suddenly, you jumped up at the engaged couple telling the story of their engagement to their families and spilled the whole popcorn. Bucky startled and looked at you worried, but you just fluttered your hands and stared at him.

“Oh. My. God.”

“What is it, honey??” He frowned and tried to come closer to you, but he had to get the snacks away from the bed first.

“Oh my god, James!” You laughed and started pacing around the whole room. “Of course, yes!”

He chuckled and got out of bed, walked to you and put his hands on your shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you-” your expression faltered when you realized you were just guessing the reason for his behaviour lately, “I thought you were asking me to marry you?”

“What?!” His eyes widened and he took a step back. You cursed under your breath and turned away, closing your eyes in embarrassment. “This is weird. I thought all the trips and dinners were times you were trying to ask me to marry you but nevermind just forge-”

“Yeah, I uhm- I was.” He laughed nervously and rubbed his neck with his hand. “I thought you don‘t want to marry me cause you never seemed to get it and ignored even the obvious tries.”

You turned to him again and shook your head. “Oh god. This is so embarrassing. I just- i don‘t know…something clicked while watching", you gestured to the tv screen, "that. I never thought about your intentions too much, god, I‘m so sorry.”

Bucky stepped closer again and took your hands in his. “You‘re all good, babe.” You squeezed one of his hands and he pulled you closer, a smile on his face.

“So?”

“So?” You bit your lip to contain your smile as you looked lovingly into his blue eyes.

“Yes or No?”

“No if you‘re not asking me the full question now.” He gasped as you laughed and lightly pushed you.

He sunk to his knees and you gasped, hands coming up to cover your mouth. The brunette took the box (that he always carried around) with the ring in it out of his breast pocket and took a deep breath.

“Will you marry me, my love?”

————

Tagging: @bisexual-chupacabra @mrs-avenger3000 @musicinourlips @yeetus-thyself (please let me know if you wanna be tagged for specific characters only)

[ontheblock]

BABE U WRITE FOR SALLY FACE?? Anything with Travis (male s/o with him obviously) or Sally please :O your writing is amazing!!

YES I DO !! i used to have a bunch of wips i still haven’t finished but i figured i can still add sf to my list since it was such a comfort game when it came out haha. as per usual, this isn’t beta read, i fucked the formatting up twice but just squint when you notice any errors- also thank you love <3 i‘d give you a free bologna sandwich for requesting trav ily. 100% beef obviously /winkwonk

fabric

•warning: abuse, religious guilt, homophobia and f-slur use, bad first kisses, badly written fluff, travis being travis

Travis was meant to live a life molded for him by his father. The pattern was already placed on the fabric when his first cry shook the hospital room at 6:33am. He was supposed to be cut from his father‘s mold but Travis‘ fabric was already old and frayed, the intertwining strings of muted tones that held him together felt lose by the time he could run. Sometimes he thought about the reason why he was incomplete. His fabric wasn‘t strong enough to hold his family name, not stretchy enough to bounce back from his father‘s reactions. Travis‘ mother patched him up every time there was another bruise on his back or face. She would cut parts out of her own fabric to cover the ripped strings her husband‘s belt left on their son. But she had only so much left when the beatings got worse.

Travis was in middle school, attending a christian summer camp a few hours away from Nockfell. He never noticed how different the air was at home but the sky was so murky compared to literally everywhere else. His father thought it was a good idea to let the boy out of town while he took care of the Ministry business which was code for something Travis shouldn‘t stick his nose into. He never asked but someone went missing while he was gone. Tragic.

Not as tragic as the camp counselor calling Travis home on their last day. The boy didn‘t know about that but they told his father about some inappropriate behavior his son showed with a fellow camper - a boy his age, Kenneth didn‘t care for the name or where he was from. All he needed to know was what his son did with that boy. The counselor tried to calm the angry parent on the phone but as soon as the information was exchanged the line went dead. He didn‘t want to hear the washed up excuses. His son was young and it was best to get these urges out of his system before they could even develop - dig for the deepest root you could find and rip it from the still fresh ground before it bloomed into something ugly, even if that meant that the garden would never bloom at all. Kenneth was a man of action after all.

That evening Travis came home clueless while his father already stood in the hallway with his wife behind him, holding onto his hand and uttering whispered quick prayers but his thick fingers already curled around the leather painfully hard. The strain it caused in his hand only fueled the need for a release as he charged for his son who didn‘t even have the chance to slip out of his worn sneakers.

That evening his mother didn‘t stay when Kenneth told her to go to bed early. Travis asked himself if it pained her the same way it pained him when his skin split under the force his father put in his first few strikes.

“You want to hold hands with boys now?“

“My son isn‘t a faggot, is that clear?“

“I gave you a place in this filthy town. You will appreciate it and live a proper life!“

“You will thank me when you don‘t burn for being dirty.“

It wasn‘t meant for Travis to answer because by the end of the night he would not even think about a boy‘s hand to be soft and warm anymore.

Travis was older now but he never found enough of anything to mend the damage his father did that night. Travis didn‘t try to explain that he held onto the boy because they figured that they wouldn’t slip on the wet mud that way. Instead he kept quiet about it ever happening and his father was content with this as long as he pulled his son from the devil‘s path to sodomy.

And Travis thought so too until a thread of blue fabric pulled together a gaping hole in his fabric. It stuck out like a sore thumb - too vibrant but warmer than any patch his mother gave to him and when he sat on the grimy bathroom floor in school after Sal Fisher of all people gave him a fucking pep talk, it felt nice. The warmth let his tears evaporate so he could pull himself together for the rest of the day.

But it was short lived. The warmth spread through him so fast he felt like burning up whenever he sat in class with Sal. He tried everything to get that blue thread out of his life but pulling on it only felt like strangling himself and he regretted ever letting his bully persona slip in that bathroom just because Sal fucking Fisher found the note he threw away - the note that was about him but Travis never had it in himself to tell him that. He regretted his promise to be less of an asshole because he knew he couldn‘t. Not even three days later the heat in his belly was so hot that he boiled over when he saw Fisher talking to that ginger nerd by the lockers. He ended up calling him a faggot because how dare he be openly gay in the same town Kenneth Phelps lived? How dare he be happy like this?

Sal tensed at the insult. Did he actually think Travis could be better? And why was his freakshow friend not hurt at the insult when it still burned in his throat to say it? Why did it feel like the slur wasn‘t meant for Todd at all? Travis swallowed hard as he fled the hallway in such a hurry that the three folded up pamphlets in his barely zipped up backpack fell on the muddy vinyl flooring.

“Fuck, Phleps. Just wait. Travis!“ The boy in question tucked at his collar as he turned a corner just to slip into another empty corridor. They had a free period right after gym class and Sal Fisher was determined to finally talk to the boy who relentlessly bullied him to now avoid him like it was the other way around. “Jesus, I‘m not gonna pry but if your dad-“ Sally harshly bumped into Travis as he whipped around, finally coming to a stop. Shame crawled up the taller teen‘s neck when he didn‘t find the prosthetic nose digging into his sweater uncomfortable.

“Shut up! God, just stop!“ Sal was surprised that he would use his Lord‘s name in vain like that and if the situation was anything but this he would‘ve laughed. “Travis, I don‘t know how you feel but-“, Sal tried again but Travis was at his limits this time. “You don‘t and you never will, Fisher. Your dad would accept you being a dirty faggot but mine doesn’t!“ He tried to fill his words with venom but it all bounced back on the guy‘s mask anyway with how much his voice actually trembled.

There was a moment of silence that made Travis want to literally get struck by his God‘s angry lightning. He couldn‘t even leave. It was like all the root his father dug out slowly crawled back to feed on his shame and ground him in front of Sal who still had to react and maybe Travis should just tell him to fuck off so he wouldn‘t have to find out what he wanted to say next.

“Travis...“ Sal lowered his voice in a fake moment of privacy. “Are you-?“ Travis already shut his eyes as he clenched his fists. He didn‘t like where this was going but there was no more fight in him. “Nevermind. You don‘t owe me shit but I saw your back.“ Travis exhaled through his mouth until there was nothing left in his lungs. He knew where that question was headed. Are you gay, Travis? Are you the faggot and that‘s why you‘re so angry? He was glad that Sal changed his approach because even Travis himself was too scared to find the answer.

“So what, Sally Face? You‘re sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong. If you even have one under that stupid mask.“ Travis harshly pushed his index finger into the boys chest and the sharp inhale he made almost made him freeze up and apologize. But he couldn‘t. He was too deep to go soft now. The look in Sal‘s eyes was enough to make Travis finally stumble backwards and push past him.

He didn‘t follow him this time.

His verbal fights with Sal Fisher were like a damn wake up call for the teen. The rush of warmth it spread in his chest and the cold shiver in sent down his spine were shaking his body every time. He started noticing that Nockfell wasn‘t that murky. Travis used to really like yellow as a child because it reminded him of his mother’s favorite sunflower dress. She was a different woman now. The vibrant yellow was fading just like her hair. Maybe it was just Nockfell, maybe it was because of her suffocating husband draining her of her life and slowly unraveling her fabric. It didn‘t matter now but to make a depressing story short, Travis didn‘t have a favorite color anymore.

But the sky looked like a pretty shade of blue on some days. He never noticed but his bathroom tiles had blue specks in them. He always thought they were just a weird grey. There were tiny flowers blooming in the most vibrant blue behind the school and he wished that they were behind the church too but nothing ever grew around that building. But he would pluck them sometimes when he was skipping gym class. His last fight in the empty hallway was weeks ago and he hoped that Sal finally gave up on his savior complex. But why did his chest sting at that thought? His fingers slowly clutched his sweater as he stared at a withering flower by his foot. Travis jumped out of his thoughts when the metal door creaked open.

“Yo.“ Sal pushed the door closed with his shoe as he held up a hand to casually greet him. His face scrunched up. “What do you want?“ Travis lowered his head again. The boy obviously noticed the fresh shiner on his face already but facing him still felt like he exposed himself. “Just wanted to confirm that the church boy was skipping class.“ Uninvited, the teen sat beside Travis on the grass, with a healthy distance of course. “Shut up. My faith has fuck all to do with school“, Travis spoke lowly but his voice was tired. Sal just hummed in agreement before silence draped over them. Not uncomfortably like the usual strained void of reactions when one of them dropped something they weren‘t prepared for. It felt ok like this and it felt like a blanket. To Travis that blanket was soft and blue but before he could shake it off and stand up there were strings of the obnoxious fabric already weaving themself into his personal space.

“We don‘t have to fight all the time.“ Sal didn‘t look at him and neither did Travis. He really didn‘t have a reason to disagree. Not one that wouldn’t blow his cover at least.

“Maybe I could come to your little church and-“ Travis head snapped up. “Don‘t“, he blurted out a little louder than he meant. “It‘s a joke. I‘m not religious.“ Sal snorted, plucking a few pieces of grass. “Yeah, because you‘re a sinner in the eyes of the Lord. You f-“ Travis had to physically stop himself by biting his lip. Sal looked over at him and Travis wished he didn‘t. “Sorry“, Travis mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, or eye since he was pretty sure his other eye never moved before. “I‘m trying to not call people that anymore.“ because all I hear is my father saying it.

“It‘s cool.“ It wasn‘t. “Why are you skipping?“ Travis huffed. It was weird to not let the conversation derail into verbal abuse. “I don‘t know. I fell. Hit my head on the door pretty bad. As you can see.“ Sal just hummed. “That‘s why you‘re limping, too?“ Travis blurted out a “yes“ a little too fast. Why was he nervous? His whole school life already revolved around cover up stories about the strange aches and bruises he got out of nowhere.

“Right.“ Sal let it slide, again. “You‘re acing algebra, Fisher.“ It wasn‘t a question so Sal didn‘t say anything. “Hmm.“ Travis cursed himself for never learning proper social skills but his father didn‘t like him bringing strangers into the house and his teen years were a constant feeling of push and pull of picking fights with boys that sparked an ugly tingle in his belly.

“You need a tutor?“ The silence seemed to be enough for Sal. Fuck him and his open fucking hand. “Maybe.“ Travis flicked a flower with his finger, dismissing the clear offer because his stomach ignited at the fact that Sal didn‘t hate him enough yet. “Maybe there is a tutor in Addisons Appartement, Room 402, who‘s free on the weekend.“ Sal couldn‘t help but smile under his mask as Travis huffed. “Fuck you, Fisher.“

Sal already forgot about his offer when lunch passed and his dad stood in the kitchen, washing their dishes, enjoying the background noise of his son watching TV with his cat. They were so engrossed in the VHS tape Sal put on that he didn‘t hear the door until his dad whistled from the kitchen. “Sally, door.“

“Huh? Oh. Yes, dad.“ He jumped to his feet, leaving Gizmo to the slasher movie he seemed to like. “Weird, Larry said he‘s busy“, Sal mumbled, opening the front door. “Oh.“ It was a knee jerk reaction from Sal because he expected everyone but Travis Phelps to knock at his door and truth be told, he looked like he‘d rather be anywhere else with the way his awkward greeting caught in his throat and died on his tongue as a huff. His eyes followed the way the blue strands hung over Sal‘s shoulders, the mask straps upsetting the smooth texture as a few chunks hung over the elastics. Travis hasn’t seen him with his hair down. He looked smaller in big sweatpants and a band shirt too.

“Travis?“ The boy‘s eyes snapped back to the mask in front of him. “So, algebra?“ Sal tilted his head a smidge. A small habit he picked up to better communicate what would otherwise be shown in his facial features. But it made Travis want to scream for a multitude of reasons as heat crept up his neck. “Obviously.“

Anyone else would‘ve told him to fix his tone or fuck off but Sal held open the door for him. It felt wrong but Travis took the invitation, rubbing his clammy hands on his pants. “Who is it?“, a deeper voice called and Travis almost jumped. He had to remind him this wasn‘t Kenneth. Mr Fisher wasn’t anything like his dad and he didn’t have to be on edge around the boy. “A friend“, Sal replied shortly, only getting an approving hum.

A friend. Did Sal see him as a friend? He couldn‘t dwell on it since he was pulled into the boy‘s bedroom that looked nothing like his. “Just sit anywhere.“ Sal wildly gestured into the room and Travis sat on the barely made bed as Sall dropped his books next to him.

Travis felt like there was something breathing down his neck the entire time they sat on Sal‘s bed. His shirt collar felt like it was about to cinch his neck closed, the dangling cross necklace he kept under his shirt felt hot to the touch like it burned the shape of Jesus into his chest with every sinful thought that crossed his mind as Sal explained the most bland and unerotic subject.

“Travis?“ The boy almost choked on his own spit.

“Romans 1:26-27.“ Travis stumbled over his own words but the verse was engraved into his head after writing and reciting it for a month straight under the stern eye of his father. There was a briefe silence for a moment.

“What?“ Sal looked up from the book in his lap.

“What?“ Travis felt breathless as he stared back at Sal. “Nothing“, he quickly added before Sal could even say anything else. “Explain that again?“ But he didn‘t. Instead, Sal pushed the book off his thigh, still staring the boy down. “Did you really come here for algebra, dude?“ No. “Yes.“ Travis fiddled with the hem of his shirt, not knowing if it was anxiety, anger or just bile scratching against his stomach lining to crawl out of him.

When Sal didn‘t say anything else Travis just reached over the boys lap to take the book himself but there was already a hand pressing against his shoulder. Travis hissed as he pulled his arm back, making Sal pull back just as fast. They stared at each other for a moment before Sal‘s gaze darted to his shoulder. “You fell pretty hard on that door.“ Travis clenched his jaw. “Shut up, Fisher, and back the fuck up.“

The boy shook his head, scooting away an inch. “Listen, you can say no because I would too but I can at least get you ointment for that.“ Sal gestured to his back and shoulder and something in Travis just crumbles as he lets his hands drop into his lap, staring them down to not look at Sal. “Ok. If it gets you off my back you parasite.“

Travis didn‘t plan this when he knocked on the apartment door. He expected to maybe stay 20 minutes before something would make him see red but all he saw was blue. Maybe he was cursed. All these years of plucking out the roots his father couldn’t reach were rendered worthless now that he sat on the rough carpet, holding his shirt up as Sal dug out the ointment.

How did he even get here? His heart beat in his throat when he felt a presence behind him. He felt the need to say something. He wanted to make it clear that this meant nothing to not make it weird but wouldn‘t that make it weirder? Wasn‘t this the same as his mother putting a bandaid on his cuts and whatever herbal mixture on his wounds? It wasn’t because he never felt the sick urge to kiss his mother.

“Ready?“, Sal asked, kneeling behind him with a glob of cool ointment on his index and middle finger. Fucking hell, why did he have to make it weird? He definitely had to say something now.

“It was my dad.“ Travis spoke fast enough to mutter his words but the long pause probably meant that Sal heard him anyway. He wanted to melt into the carpet, leave behind a stain on the boy‘s floor to annoy him just one last time. He didn‘t know what he expected him to say to that and he also didn‘t know why that was the thing he had to say. But Sal made it easy on him by just not answering at all. Instead, he dabbed the cream on the first bruise, making Travis inhale sharply but otherwise biting his tongue. Sal figured that Travis wanted to act tough by not showing that it hurt but actually, Travis didn‘t trust his voice under Sal‘s soft fingertips.

“Travis“, Sal spoke again. Travis wasn‘t sure if he hated the heavy silence more of the fact that Sal was the first to say something while he was rubbing little circles into his back. He didn‘t answer but that never held Sal back.

“Are you gay?“ His voice was so quiet that Travis wouldn‘t have heard it if they sat a little further apart but it had the same effect as screaming it for all of Nockfell to hear. Sal felt him tense up under his touch, already expecting him to jump up or at least yell at him. But neither of them did anything. Sal‘s fingers rested against the heating skin, feeling it rise with every ragged breath he managed to take. “Travis-“

“Fuck, Sal. What? Do you want me to tell you about the times my dad beat the gay out of me or do you prefer that time I wanted to kiss you in that gross fucking bathroom?“, the teen finally barked, letting his words sink in first before he hissed a quiet “shit“. The fingers on his back pulled away as Sal sat on his heels. “You wanted to kiss me?“, Sal repeated, slower than Travis but he just pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes until he saw shapes and felt like the pressure would crush his face. He heard Sal shuffle around the room, probably getting ready to throw him out like he should‘ve done a while ago. But the shuffling stopped in front of him and something told him not to look but cold hands were already on his wrists to peel his cramping hands from his face. Travis opened his eyes just in time to see that mask uncomfortably close but before he could say anything, there was an odd sensation on his lips with minimal pressure. Sal was kissing him and it snuffed the flame in his stomach for just a moment, allowing the torched butterflies to unfold their wings and fly high enough to even make his heart pump overtime. But the feeling was lost just as soon when Sal inched backwards, pulling his prosthetic back in place before Travis could even take any of this in.

“Sorry.“ Sal threw it into the room for Travis to interpret. But the gears in his head threatened to jump out of place already so he reached out to Sal who already flinched backwards, holding onto his mask. “You don‘t want that.“ Sal pushed his hand back a little. “How would you know?“ Travis furrowed his brows at him but he was thankful. He wasn‘t sure if he could take seeing the boy bare like that but he was craving that feeling his father tried to snuff so desperately.

Sal just shook his head as Travis inched closer. “I‘ll close my eyes.“ Now it was Sal‘s turn to hole up in silence, knowing that neither of them could handle the mask coming off. Something made him trust Travis‘ words as he opened the bottom clasp which was the cue for Travis to shut his eyes. He did and seconds later he felt Sal on him again. One hand clamping over his eyes just to make sure and the other fisting the front of his shirt.

This time Travis felt the cleft in Sal‘s lip and the scar tissue ripping up the soft skin. He leaned into the kiss. Where were his hands supposed to go? When Travis didn‘t find the answer his body moved on autopilot. One hand threaded through the surprisingly smooth strands as the other clung to the small of his back.

Travis should‘ve been grossed out by the drool pooling out of Sal‘s torn lip but he wasn‘t. He should be grossed out by Sal being a boy but he wasn‘t. When Sal pulled back he kept his hand over Travis‘ eyes while the other wiped the spit off his chin. The kiss alone was enough to patch up his murky fabric with bright blue strings that dominated the colors his father painted him in. Travis didn‘t know what would happen after high school. Hell, he didn‘t even know what would be tomorrow. But he didn‘t want the bright fibers to unravel him again.

A knock on the door startled both of them, making Sal pull his arm away and Travis rapidly blinking. He didn‘t notice the mangled face first as the unruly blue caught his eye. His hand did that. His heart beat in his throat again as he overheard Sal‘s father say something and Sal shooting a hum of agreement back. His prosthetic was already on his face again before Travis could catch anything besides the scar tissue crawling up his jaw and chin before splitting his lips and exposing teeth and gum.

Maybe blue was his favorite color.

[flowercrown-bard]

I Scream a Truth, You Hear a Lie - bonus chapter

for @ban-aard  <3

read on AO3

previous

this takes place way before any of that fake-marriage nonsense. This is the real moment Geralt realised he was in love. So it can be read as a stand alone one shot

content warning: mention of animal death (falsely assumed by a character. No actual death)

“And who’s this lovely lady?“

Geralt rolled his eyes. “That‘s Roach.”

Jaskier snorted and put his hands on his hips. “Listen Geralt, I know that it’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, but I am fairly certain that I remember Roach being a lovely shade of brown and not grey.” Jaskier let a moment pass before he gasped, clutching his chest in that overly dramatic way of his. “Geralt! Are you cheating on her?”

“I lost my old Roach.”

Immediately, Jaskier’s playful demeanour dropped and his grin was replaced by a furrow of his brow.

“Oh,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically small. “Geralt, I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have made fun of it if I’d have known. I know you loved her.” He took a step closer in the way one would approach a wounded animal. “Are you alright?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Jaskier reached out to touch Geralt’s arm, just for a heartbeat, just long enough to make it clear that he was offering comfort, before pulling away again. It was strange, but after being apart from Jaskier for so long, it felt…nice. Geralt almost found himself wanting more of that touch. Which was a ridiculous thought, of course.

Before he could do something stupid and catch Jaskier’s hand mid-air, Geralt grunted and turned away, but something about the crestfallen expression on Jaskier’s face made him stop.

“She didn’t… she’s not dead, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Geralt said awkwardly. There was something uncomfortable of having Jaskier’s eyes so intently on him. It made his heart beat harder against his ribs. Geralt found himself wanting more of it, but he turned away harshly, leading Roach over to a tree he could fasten her reins onto. It bought him enough time to get his heart back under control enough to go back to Jaskier.

“She’s not?” Jaskier’s eyes lit up as if he had just been announced winner of a bardic tournament. No, that wasn’t right. Geralt had seen him at such an event once and the look Jaskier had on his face now was so much brighter than it had been back then. It did something to Geralt’s chest that he couldn’t quite name, didn’t want to name. “But you said you lost her?”

Jaskier said it so tentatively, sounding almost as if he was truly concerned for Geralt or his horse.

Geralt huffed, rolling his eyes. “I lost her at Gwent.”

For a long moment Jaskier just stared at him, before he narrowed his eyes. “You’re shitting me. Geralt, you can’t joke about Roach like that.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“Come on. I watched you play and listened to you get all excited about all the strategies and tricks of playing Gwent for years and in all that time not once have I seen you lose a game.”

Geralt shifted and crossed his arms. He didn’t need to justify himself to Jaskier and there was no need for his stomach to twist in that way when Jaskier mentioned listening to Geralt. After all, it wasn’t as if Jaskier had ever complained about Geralt talking about Gwent. In fact, he had always seemed rather interested in what Geralt had to say and he had only ever seemed disappointed when Geralt realised that he was getting carried away and shut himself up.

Jaskier cocked his head. “Alright then. Who was this mysterious Gwent champion who defeated you?”

“Why do you need to know?” Geralt said, sounding perhaps a little more self-conscious than he wanted. He quickly tried to cover it up by adding more playfully, “About to write a sing about how I lost a game?”

“No,” Jaskier said, his face set in determination. “I am going to challenge that person to another round of Gwent and win Roach back for you.”

Something in Geralt’s chest stuttered and his mind was unable to form words. He could only stare at Jaskier.

“You really mean that, don’t you.”

“Of course,” Jaskier said without hesitation. “Roach is your friend. So, who is it? Who has Roach?”

It didn’t make sense. There was no reason for Jaskier to get so worked up over Geralt’s horse. The bard had never even gotten along with her, always complaining about her almost nipping his fingers or chewing on his expensive doublets. But thinking about it…despite all of his complains Jaskier had never stopped approaching her and trying to win her over with treats, silly songs about her beauty and the promise of scritches.

“Roach is with a farmer,” Geralt said slowly. “A retired one whose old fields are now over run with wild flowers and all that.” There really was no need to add that, but seeing a smile spreading across Jaskier’s lips and getting wider with each word made it impossible to stop himself. “The farmer’s son played me for Roach, saying his mother needed her to get to the market every once in a while. And that she could need a companion.”

A strange look passed over Jaskier’s face. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable and yet it made Geralt want to look away. Or to keep looking until he understood.

“So…” Jaskier drew out the word, his eyes searching Geralt’s face. “Roach is on some old farm somewhere happily munching on some flowers and keeping an old lady company?”

Geralt hummed.

“Well then. Maybe…maybe I won’t challenge anyone to a game of Gwent anytime soon then.” Jaskier gave him a lopsided grin. “After all, how could I defeat someone even you lost to? Which I am sure didn’t happen because you were wilfully holding back.”

“Of course not,” Geralt growled, his weak pretence of being annoyed fooling no one, even if he weren’t already betrayed by the smile tugging at his lips.

“However, if you were willing, I would play a round of Gwent with you?” Jaskier said, fiddling with the hem of his doublet.

Geralt’s eyebrows rose. “Since when do you actually want to play?”

“Since I have something I want out of it.”

“Oh?”

Jaskier raised his chin in a challenge. “If I win you are going to tell me everything you know about your new Roach so that I can already begin to befriend her?”

Geralt’s lips twitched and he pulled out his deck, shuffling it.

“And if I win?”

Jaskier heaved a heavy sigh. “If you win, I promise to grand you some blessed silence and not to sing at all until we reach the next town.”

Geralt smirked at that. He was almost tempted to make the game quick and brutal, just to watch Jaskier’s cocky smirk change into that pout he sometimes got. And a small part of Geralt didn’t want to tell Jaskier about how to bond with Roach.

It hadn’t exactly been a bad experience to watch Jaskier coo over his old Roach and do his best to get her to like him. If Geralt was being honest with himself, those evenings where Jaskier’s face lit up because Roach had let him stroke her mane were ones he had thought of often when he had found himself at Kaer Morhen and strangely enough missing the presence of the bard who had somehow wormed himself into Geralt’s life.

He would love to add more such moments to his memory, of Jaskier trying to gain his new Roach’s favour all on his own. But on the other hand, the way he looked at Geralt so hopefully now made his throat tighten. And for some reason Geralt couldn’t shake the thought that it was important that Roach and Jaskier got along. They had to, if they all were to travel together for the next couple of years.

The thought sent a strange pang through Geralt. The next couple of years.

He risked a glance at Jaskier who rolled his eyes and marched over to Roach, holding his hand out to her and watching with bated breath as the grey mare came closer and nuzzled into the touch.

Geralt couldn’t fight his smile when Jaskier turned back to him, a huge grin on his face. A sudden tightness in Geralt’s chest made it difficult to breath.

He didn’t want to lose that grin in a couple of years. He didn’t want to lose the shared laughs and the songs around the campfires at night. He didn’t want to walk the Path without knowing Jaskier would be there waiting for him at an inn with a worried look and the gentleness of his hands as he stitched him back together.

He wanted to keep all of it. Wanted to keep Jaskier.

How could he not want that, when for years Jaskier had been his best friend, the person whose ridiculous outfits and endless tirades about his bardic competitors made Geralt’s heart skip a beat. When Jaskier was the one Geralt –

Oh.

Geralt’s hands stilled and his heart clenched.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Jaskier who by now was throwing his head back laughing as Roach tried to eat his hair, his eyes twinkling in mirth.

Oh.

How could Geralt not have known before? How could he have ever been stubborn enough not to give a name to that feeling he got every time he saw Jaskier again after a long winter? Every time Jaskier accidentally bumped shoulders with him or gave him a smile when others only scowled at him?

Seeing Jaskier now, it was so easy, so obvious.

Jaskier was an idiot. He was ridiculous and loud and gods, Geralt loved him.

“Hey Geralt,” Jaskier called over, interrupting Geralt’s thoughts, though the shout couldn’t take away the warm feeling flooding Geralt. “Are you done shuffling your cards yet? I’d almost think you want to buy yourself some time until your second defeat.”

Jaskier gave him a wink and poked the tips of his tongue out.

Geralt froze, transfixed.

“I’m ready,” he said, hoping Jaskier didn’t notice how strangled he sounded.

-

Geralt lost the game.

He accepted Jaskier’s gloating and bragging with a roll of his eyes. When they were back on the road and Jaskier was composing a new song about how Geralt had been defeated by a bard, he allowed himself a smile.

How could he not? Geralt’s deliberate loss at a game was not a bad price to pay for seeing his love happy and maybe having him in his life just a little bit longer.

[91percentpynch]

false god - kevaaron au pt 5

long time no see because i was in a writing block and that sucks but i‘m back and ready to break our hearts <33 thanks to argyro for helping me figuring out what happens here

i listened to false god by taylor swift cuz the angst??? love it!!! anygays this is from kevin‘s pov, i hope it makes sense and i hope you like it <33 stay safe, drink some water and always remember only racists, trump supporters, transphobes and homophobes skip meals!!

to check out the other parts click here

Aaron wasn‘t gone for too long when Kevin‘s phone rang

He didn‘t have the energy to pick it up, just to stare it down as if some kind of magic or his sheer will power would make it stop, let him be alone with his thoughts

But obviously that didn‘t work, it never did

The phone kept ringing, slowly driving the striker mad, slowly taking his sanity.

It would be the fifth or sixth missed call that would make him get up to answer the phone

„KEVIN HI NICKY HERE, LISTEN I TRIED TO CALL YOU FOR THE PAST HALF HOUR OR SO BUT AARON‘S IN THE HOSPITAL AND I CAN‘T GET THERE UNTIL LIKE TOMORROW AND ANDREW DOESN‘T ANSWER HIS PHONE EITHER AND HE WOULD TAKE LIKE HOURS TO GET THERE AS WELL CAN YOU PLEASE GO TO HIM SO HE DOESN‘T HAVE TO BE ALONE I DON‘T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED PLEASE, KEVIN I NEVER ASKED FOR ANYTHING FROM YOU PLEASE JUST GO AND MAKE SURE MY SON IS OKAY“

„Nicky? Hi to you too. You do realize he isn‘t my responsibility and that he broke up with me and that I don‘t really have to go there. I don‘t own him shit. He made my life miserable. He probably deserves whatever happened to him“ was what Kevin wanted to answer, was probably what he was supposed to say. But deep down he knew it was not true, that Aaron never ruined his life. Made it better, made it it bareable. Made it worth living, not just existing. Made it more than Exy and Vodka.

After a few moments of silence that felt like an enterinity Kevin settled for a simple: „Which hospital?“

„OH DIO MIO GRACIAS, MUCHAS GRACIAS. ESTÁ EN EL CHICAGO HOSPITAL“, Nicky replied in Spanish. Something the Latino only did when he was either very emotional, very drunk, very angry or all at once.

Kevin didn‘t have it in him to tell Nicky that he still did not speak Spanish, he understood the hospital and that was enough. For now.

„I‘m on my way, call you later and Nicky? He‘s going to be fine. It‘s not your fault. You‘re a great mother to them, the best I‘ve ever had the pleasure to meet. Now calm down, go to Erik and take a nap. You don‘t have to come, he‘s with us. We got this. Do you want to talk to Jeremy while I go to check up on Aaron?“

„Sí“, was all Nicky had to say. Voice thick with tears.

„JER CAN YOU TALK TO NICKY AARON‘S IN THE HOSPITAL I‘M GOING THERE“, Kevin shouted into the flat.

„Absoloutly“, Jeremy replied and took the phone from Kevin.

„Mi corazón, escúchame“, was the last thing Kevin heard as it hit him. Aaron was in the hospital. Right after Kevin refused to listen to him, right after Kevin refused to let him explain himself. It was Kevin‘s fault. If Aaron died, he would have killed him. He was basically a murderer. His breathing came out uneven, his lungs didn‘t get enough air. He knew that he needed to breathe, but breathing was hard and he was weak.

Jean noticed Kevin having a panic attack when he came to check up on him. „Day, listen to me. Breathe. In... And out... In.... And out... In... And out“

Kevin‘s breathing got better, slowly but steadily.

„It‘s my fault“, the striker whispered.

„It‘s not, Kevin. It is not your fault. If you don‘t want to go there, you don‘t have to. He is not your responsibility“

„Hypothetically if Jeremy was to break up with you and you‘re hurt and sad and blame him for your misery when it‘s more the lack of him that makes you feel that way and his sister or brother or mother or whoever would call you and hysterically asked you to go look after him cause his family is stuck on another continent and the only other person who could call refuses to take the phone cause they‘re too busy doing their boyfriend, would you not go cause he is not your responsibility anymore? Because Aaron is my Jeremy. Just like Jer saved your life and made you see that live is indeed worth living, Aaron showed me the same“

„I don‘t think I would surive Jeremy leaving me, you‘ve always been stronger than me. Should I give you a ride?“, Jean whispered.

„It‘s not a thing of strenght Jean, it‘s an addiction. It used to be alcohol that made me forget, made me feel light and free and carefree. I drank and drank until I couldn‘t live without it anymore. And then I met Aaron, I tasted him, I smelled him and he chose me. Me? What did I have to offer him? A boy broken and raised by Exy. All I can offer is Exy. Nothing more. Until he made me see that it was wrong, that I am more than that. And he might have broken my heart and yes I might still love him even though he will never feel the same but I cannot not go there. I have to. I have to be there for them, the way he was always there for me“

„Get your things, we‘re going to the hospital“, Jean replied, unable to put his emotions into words.

So Jean and Kevin left for the hospital while Jeremy tried to calm Nicky down with softly whispered Spanish words.

As they arrived at the hospital Kevin stormed in there.

„Aaron Minyard“, was all he was able to say. Too many memories were connected with hospitals. Too many memories he would much rather just forget.

„Name?“, the nurse said in a bored tone.

Kevin just put a finger on his cheek.

„Kevin Day? I can‘t let you to him, only family and spouses“

„What if I sign something, we take a nice selfie and you tell me where he is. You see I‘m basically family. I‘m the closest and the others can‘t be here until at least tomorrow evening and we don‘t want the poor guy to be all alone and confused, do we?“, Kevin said with his press smile and shining eyes. He knew the charme he had on females. It was just not useful for him as he never really was into that. He never was into anyone but Aaron, to be fair.

„I could lose my job for that“, the nurse replied, her eyes wandering from his eyes to his lips and up again.

„I‘m sure I can offer you something that will you let me to go see him“, Kevin replied with a wink, being disgusted by himself that he even thought about all the possiblities this woman could ask him to do with her.

„Room 21, second floor, station E. You clearly care about him, if anyone asks it wasn‘t me“, she smiled at him. „Besides I always liked Moreau more, I‘m sure we can think of something to do while you are with the boy“

„Sorry“, Kevin whispered to Jean as he ran down the aisle trying to figure out where Aaron was.

The hostpital was a mess of busy nurses and angry doctors, but nothing could stop a determinded Kevin Day. No one. Not even Andrew Minyard.

After what felt like forever he made it to the room, kicked the door open and walked with three long strides to Aaron.

„You fucking idiot, what have you done?“, he whisper-shouted, holding back tears while taking in Aaron‘s sorry state.

„I don‘t need your fucking pity“, Aaron replied, exhausted.

„Did you tell them you can‘t have morphine? Because you might relapse, i mean you already did but we don‘t want it to get worse. And this is not pity, this is Nicky yelling at me in Spanish cause you‘re in the hospital and he‘s in Germany and I‘m the closest to you and he does not want his son to be alone“

„Andrew didn‘t care to come, did he?“, Aaron whispered into his pillow.

„Andrew does care about you he‘s just shit at showing it, that fucking asshole“, Kevin replied softly. „C‘mon what have you done Minyard?“

„Car accident, not that it‘s any of your fucking business“

„How are you?“

„Fucking great, I should let a truck drive into me more often. Very freeing. Very calming“, Aaron said sarcastically, avoiding Kevin‘s eyes.

„A truck. Drove into you?“, shock made Kevin‘s Irish accent stronger.

„Not that you would care“, Aaron‘s voice was barely more than a whisper as he turned around, back to Kevin.

„Aaron first of all I can see you naked ass and not that I wouldn‘t mind the view and I‘ve seen it often enough but the nurses don‘t have to see that too. And secondly of course I care. I always did. Always will“

Blushing Aaron turned back towards Kevin.

„Why wouldn‘t you listen to me if you care so much? You‘re exactly like like Andrew, you guys only ever care when I‘m about to die or do something that doesn‘t sit right with you. Never about me as a person. The conecept about me maybe, but me? Me as a person? No one cares about that“

„You are Aaron Minyard. Born on the 4th of November, 8:31:45 am. You grew up in California in the house next to Nicky. Nicky and you were always close and you didn‘t have many friends because of your mom. Your mom might have abused her and I might hate her for that but you still love her and I get that because on some fucked up level I still care about Riko. You are allergic to cats, peanuts and house dust. You have a freckle right on your right hip, under your navel, from under your left eye over to the nose to the corner of your right eye. You like it when you are hold when you can‘t sleep but you hate showing affection in public. You were 13 when you started exy, because it gave you an escape, but you had to stop because the bruises from your mother‘s beating got to obvious. So you started getting into medicine. You borrowed every single book on medicine you could find and read it at night, always hidden from your mom. You had to have straight As or the beatings would be worse. Your mom did go out to have ice cream with you when it was especially bad. That‘s why you hate ice cream so much, especially vanillia because it was her favourite. Your secret hobby is skating. You feel free when you do it. You want to live at the coast, but not close to Cali, never back to Cali. You want Andrew to notice you and you hate how easily he let Neil in because obviously deserve it more and I get that. You tried drugs to escape, to see what was the appeal. Your uncle never helped you but he brainwashed you into believing he did. You grew up very religous and in an extraordinary homophobic household, you watched your cousin and only friend getting shipped away because he was different, not right, so you confinced yourself you were different. Heterosexual. When in reality you knew since you were 15 that you preferred guys. You liked girls as well. At least you thought but it‘s so much more complicated. Actually it isn‘t. You‘re asexual, you do however like the feeling of sex. You think the process is disgusting, but you still like the feeling. It has to be the right person though. It doesn‘t matter wether it‘s a boy or a girl or something else entierly, all that matters are the feelings the person makes you feel. It took you years to accept that you are not wrong, that you wouldn‘t have to go away like Nicky. You apologized to Nicky. You thought you had to be against their relationships, because that‘s what they made you believe. Old habits die hard. But you got over it and I am very proud of you. You sleep with a teddybear or with another person that cuddles you because the thought of being alone scares the living crap out of you. Your favourite flowers are sunflowers because yellow is a happy color. You hate sweets, you prefer salty snacks. You prefer coffee black, like your sould. You use sarcasm and humor as your coping mechanism. You stole my history books because you love history as well. You also love art but you don‘t think you are good enought to become an artist. You would love to work at Jean‘s studio but you are afraid to ask. You and Jean used to be friends but you cut him off and isolated yourself because your anxities and insecurities took over you again. Sometimes you have depressive episodes, in these you crave drugs more than normally. You want to stop it, you really do but somehow your brain tries to tell you you need it. You would love to have five dogs. An Irish Red Setter, an Irish Wolfhound, a poodle a big one though, a labrador and a golden retriever. You also want to adopt at least two kids. You don‘t want any child to go through what you had to go through or Andrew. So don‘t you dare tell me I never cared for you. Because I do. I listen when you tell me things. I remember every single time you came to me, black out drunk, crying and telling me you‘re worthless. Because every single time I wanted to tell you you aren‘t. You are a wonderful human being and I don‘t understand why I wasn‘t enough for you to stay but I will not let you tell me I never cared about you. Because that‘s some fucking bullshit“

Kevin didn‘t even notice the tears running down his cheeks. It‘s been a while since he was that emotional, since he let his walls down and dared to show emotions.

„You really did listen“, was all Aaron had to say.

„Why wasn‘t I enough for you?“, Kevin replied, voice thick of tears, Irish accent strong.

[ecofinisher]

Lady Frost and the Fire King - A familiar partnership - Chap 11

Chapter 11

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31330631/chapters/77469461

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13886468/11/Lady-Frost-and-the-Fire-King-A-familiar-partnership

https://www.wattpad.com/1081907828-lady-frost-and-the-fire-king-a-familiar

(Chapter is about 5000 words long. I recommend to read inside the previous fanfic links)

Kai and Alfida stood together in front of a library and looked at the description at the entrance about the opening time.

„Okay, this must be it,“ Alfida commented. „Shall we go in?“

Kai nodded, then opened the door to enter along with the girl into the library and looked around the place. Alfida showed Kai the reception, where a woman sat using the computer and the two went to encounter the woman.

„Good morning. We‘d like to know if it‘s possible for someone here to help us look for flight tickets to Paris,“ Kai spoke. „Our grandfather told us this was the only way he knew how to obtain and get information about,“ Kai asked earning a nod from the librarian.

„For your grandfather or for you two?“ Asked the librarian.

„Us two,“ Responded Kai.

„Age?“

„I‘m 15 and she‘s 16,“ Responded Kai.

„17,“ Corrected Alfida making Kai grin embarrassed.

„Okay and does it have to be a non-stop flight or a connecting flight?“

„If possible, the cheapest one,“ Added Alfida. „We gotta pay this on our own, eventually,“

„Alright I‘m looking for you two on Brian Airlines, a low-cost airline if you‘re okay with it,“ Stated the woman making the teens nod.

„There are no available low-cost flights to Paris. You would need to choose another destination and see from there, how you could go there to Paris,“ Responded the librarian.

„Well what more can you want, we‘re at the moment out of money and need to go there to get my sister back,“ Explained Kai earning a nod from the librarian.

„How did you get here, if I may ask?“

„It‘s a long story. We‘re really thankful for your help ma‘am,“

„We really are and I don‘t want to be rude or anything, but what are the prices of the available destinations? Are there close to Paris a bit?“ Asked the raven-haired girl the woman, which used her mouse to open the offers.

„60 Norwegian Kroner is if you fly to Vienna, in Austria. Wroclaw in Poland costs 50 Kroner and to Basle in Switzerland 60,“ Mentioned the librarian looking at the two teens.

„For two persons it‘s actually cheap,“ Kai mentioned glad making his crush nod.

„Oh, that‘s for each person,“ Corrected the librarian. „Each of you pays 50 or 60 bucks. So 100 or 120,“

„Oh…..okay, so looks like we have to stay here for a while and find a way to make some money for our flight,“ Kai mentioned making Alfida nod.

„Yeah, we better start to look for a way to obtain money. Maybe Hendrick has an idea and helps us out,“ Commented Alfida.

„I know I can make money with art, I just need to get myself a painting easel and colors. The issue is I will need money for that as well,“

„I‘m thinking about going to Orm and Hendrick and tell what‘s up. Hendrick mostly, he knows this world at the moment better than us,“

„I think you‘ve got a point,“ Kai agreed, then Alfida thanked the woman and walked along with the boy to the outside of the library. „Hey, should we head back to the troll kingdom and see, if we can unfreeze the others?“ Questioned Kai making Alfida shrug her shoulders.

„We could go and try, yeah,“ Replied the raven-haired. „Let‘s get out of here,“ Called Alfida walking the street up with the short boy.

As the school had ended Rollan was alone in the locker room looking at a small book he has as his agenda to see the homework he had noticed down for the week and stored the books we wouldn‘t need for now inside his locker.

„Ay, it‘s been a long time since I‘ve ever done homework. That looks like a lot than usual,“ Spoke Rollan, then stored his agenda inside his bag and got up to close his locker, then noticed his belt he encountered a few days ago. Rollan took the belt out to look at his initial letter and unlocked the aperture under it and tried to adjust it around his waist. ��I…..almost got it,“ Commented Rollan trying to squeeze the thick textile through the bands of his pants. Rollan made it and closed his belt, then noticed the old-goldish tune of his symbol get lighter, making him furrow his left eyebrow and in front of him appeared a stone-creature in the air, then it dropped on the ground and it got split into two and both got up scratching their heads.

„Whoa,“ Rollan commented surprised as seeing the two creatures, then got down at the two. „What kind of creatures are you?“ Asked Rollan about to pat the slink creature, then yelped as he burnt his finger on it.

„Hey, hey, hey. Didn‘t you notice the magma on my head?“ Asked the slink stone creature watching Rollan shove his finger in his mouth. „It‘s hotter, than a day at the beach,“

„I‘m sorry,“ Apologized Rollan. „I was kinda astonished by seeing you two,“

„I‘m glad you‘re thinking that way,“ Commented the round creature. „Hey haven‘t we seen each other once? You‘re pretty familiar to me,“

„Not that I know,“ Responded Rollan. „Why?“

„I felt like I‘ve known you somehow,“ Responded the large stone-creature. „I‘m Coal by the way. You‘ve got a name as well?“

„Of course he does, Coal,“ Commented the slink stone creature, making Coal frown and punch him on his face making him fall down on the ground to split into two, now the third creature was much smaller than the slinker one.

„I‘m Rollan,“ Responded Rollan looking at the third creature, which got up along with the slinky one.

„If we‘re going to be together for the next amount of time. I would really love if I could walk on the ground on my own or be carried by you. Anytime I‘m hit or fall down, I split in two and if they fall as well, you‘ll have it worse than in a rabbit burrow,“ Coal commented seeing Rollan sit down on the bench looking at the trio,

„Can I at least know, why I am here talking to you three? What were you doing in my belt?“

„That‘s an excellent question, for some reason a foreign man mixed my powers into this belt, so I assume this would be a way to have the wielder be able to use the powers,“

„Powers?“ Asked Rollan curious. „What kind of powers?“ Asked Rollan, then he heard a loud noise on the outside of the building and ran at the window to look out and see the feet of a large robot stand there blocking the way to the buildings behind it. „Coal?!?“

„The power of fire“ Responded Coal. „You‘re able to create fire and use it,“

„Really? How can I do so?“ Asked the raven-haired boy. „Do I have to say anything?“

„You‘ll get the hand of it. You just have to transform and you‘ll be able to use the powers,“ Responded Coal watching Rollan look out of the window and hear someone scream, then the robot moved back and Rollan dropped his mouth knowing someone might be in trouble right now.

„Does this make me one of the good people if I use the firepower?“ Asked Rollan making the stone-creature shrug his shoulders.

„I‘m just here to follow your orders. Whatever path you chose, is up to you,“ Responded Coal watching Rollan look out of the window and frown.

„They need a hero? They will get one!“ Announced Rollan earning applause from the three stone-creatures.

„Then all you need to do is say, Coal, I‘m fired up,“ Stated the stone-creature.

„Coal, I‘m fired up! Ah ha, ha!“ Shouted Rollan opening up his arms and have his clothing get replaced by brown boots, pants, that were marked with fire-themed symbols resembling an engravure. On his body he wore a dark-brown pullover with small streaks, forming lava running down the clothing. Above the pullover, he wore a gray vest with similar patterns to the ones from the pants, and his belt, which now works as a miraculous was dark-red and the cover with Rollan‘s initial got brighter. His skin got darker along with his eyes and his hairstyle became fixed up resembling a fire flame with its colorings as well starting on the ground with dark brown, leading to red up to the end, which was orange and yellow.

„Wow!“ Commented Rollan astonished looking at his appearance, then ran at the exit and shrieked as the door got smacked back to encounter students from the fencing class run into the locker room accompanied by their class teacher.

„There‘s fire!“ Shouted a girl pointing at Rollan‘s superhero form, which looked around to spot the empty room.

„Where?“ Asked Rollan watching the disappear behind the locker while the rest of the team looked at the superhero. „Why is everyone looking at me as if my head was on fire?“ Asked Rollan and Mr. D‘Argencourt took out his smartphone to show Rollan his looks as a superhero and he got surprised as he saw himself as a superhero and his hair was burning at that exact moment. „Oh that‘s what you meant,“

„Get in here!“ Shouted a red-dressed fencing student, which stood at the entrance waiting for other students to leave the court and Rollan ran out heading to the field passing by a few students encountering Kim Chien Le, who he met on his first school day.

„Hey, Kim! Where‘s the danger?“ Asked Rollan watching Kim point at the outside, making Rollan nod and ran at the outside of the court to spot, a large, dark-blue car robot with two white stripes on its legs and arms holding with its left hand a police car with an agent in it. Rollan spotted on the ground Sabrina Raincomprix, which watched in shock the Roboter threatening her father.

„Papa!“ Shouted the redhead, making Rollan swallow hard.

At another part of the schoolhouse, Gerda was in the restroom washing her hands and moved to the side seeing there was no handpaper available, but a strange, electronic device, which had an etiquette with instruction on how to dry her hands in there. Gerda looked at her hands and slowly put them inside the device, which began to blow wind at Gerda‘s hands to dry them and the side of the device had a small display counting from ten down until it would stop drying. As it stopped Gerda took out her hands, then smiled at seeing it made its job good. Gerda picked up from the floor her bag, then walked out of the restroom out a the library opening up the bag to check her material, she had in it and noticed the wreath Rollan told to have found. Therefore the blonde removed the wreath from her bag, then looked at the reflection of a large metal cart and observed herself inserting the wreath on top of her head. As she‘s done that, a blue spirit appeared beside Gerda floating over the lavatory, shrieking at the girl at the sudden appearance of the small creature.

„Hello. I‘m Snowflake,“ Greeted the spirit. „I‘m coming in peace, don‘t worry. I‘m able to grant you powers...the power of ice,“ Explained Snowflake watching Gerda, which had gotten calmer. „With me, you‘ll be able to use ice. You‘ll be able to freeze things, create things, destroy things. A lot is possible if you learn to figure it out,“ „Like the….Snow Queen?“ Asked Gerda curious making the spirit nod, then she spotted someone and hid inside Gerda‘s backpack. „Hey!“ Shouted Gerda opening the backpack. „Get out of here, I need to talk to you,“ Gerda ordered, then she noticed at the end of the library a student, which was wearing a red hoodie and black pants staring at her confused. „I…..can‘t find my phone in there, but I‘m able to talk like this on it. That‘s pretty cool, isn‘t it?“ Asked Gerda faking a grin at the student.

„Uh…..we gotta hide, there‘s another akuma out there terrorizing the city,“ Stated the student making Gerda nod.

„I will come, don‘t worry,“ Responded Gerda watching the boy move on, then from Gerda‘s pocket came out the spirit, making her frown. „Why didn‘t you show up?“

„You‘re my new holder, right?“ Asked the spirit making Gerda shrug her shoulders.

„I don‘t know. You just appeared at the time I‘ve set this on my head,“ Commented Gerda making Snowflake nod.

„Then I assume you are if the wreath is supposed to go to you,“

„Maybe,“ Commented Gerda, then Snowflake floated forward and Gerda followed the spirit to see above the top of the room two TV screens hanging with the news of the akuma alert.

„Shadow Moth akumatized another citizen, which turned into an Autobot and is causing trouble in Paris,“ Explained the purple-haired moderator on TV.

„Oh oh, that‘s right here at our school,“ Commented Gerda earning a nod from the spirit.

„So what do you think? Do you want to give it a chance and use your powers to take down that monster over there?“ Questioned Snowflake. „I think the superheroes would love to have another helping hand. What do you think?“

„I‘ve never done this before. I don‘t know if I can even pull this off,“

„You can do that. You‘ve got me and my powers. You don‘t have to get worried about being hurt or killed. You're sheltered pretty well as long as you have me activated,“

„Okay I could give it a try,“ Gerda answered. „I‘ve defeated the Snow Queen once when I was younger. This will be easier…..I hope at least,“ Gerda commented, then Snowflake patted Gerda on her shoulder.

„Don‘t worry Gerda. You will do just fine. Say, Snowflake freeze and you‘ll transform,“ Added the creature making Gerda nod.

„Snowflake, Freeze!“ Shouted Gerda having her entire look exchanged. Her clothings had vanished and her entire body was covered in a long, blue winter coat with big snowflake patterns spread around the outfit. The wreath got the similar colors of the outfit, the hair had gotten lighter along with the skin, and around her eyes, up to the side of her ears, she wore a mix of ice-white and blue make-up powder with smaller dots and snowflake spread over it along a part of her cheek.

„Woah I look like a….a mini Snow Queen,“ Gerda commented. „Or no this looks like a regular winter cloak,“ Spoke Gerda, then heard the door of the library get kicked back by Kim Chien Le and Ethan, the student he played basketball with holding up the doors, so a few students ran in for safety. Gerda looked from the second floor at the two, then she had an idea and looked at the stairs beside her and looked at her hands, then held them open wide and shoot ice from her hands and she approached the stairs, so she would freeze them. Gerda smiled, then jumped on it sliding down at the first floor, then Gerda shrieked and pushed down a redheaded student and flenched her teeth in shock.

„I‘m sorry Nathaniel,“ Commented Gerda looking at the redhead scratch his head and look up at the girl bewildered from knowing his name. Gerda saw him not caring about what happened, then she ran out of the library and a few students got at the door to see the mysterious person, that had just run out of the library.

„I feel like I‘ve seen her before,“ Commented Kim making the blonde student shrug his shoulders watching the superheroine freeze the long stairs, to slide down on her back.

Rollan stood at the exit looking at the robot, which held the police car in his hands, then he whistled to catch the robot‘s attention.

„Hey! You have to pick someone who‘s worth your level!“ Shouted Rollan‘s alter ego, then he heard a whooshing sound and turned his head back to see the ice-themed superheroine come along. She had made herself a path to the exit with ice, where she was trying to slide on, but she ended up falling down on her front. Rollan got down on the ground to offer her his hand. She took his hand to get up, then tripped over the ice and hit her forehead on his nose, causing him to shake his head surprised at the mishap.

„Are you okay?“ Asked Rollan raising up the girl carefully, then looked into her blue eyes and got lost in them. „Que Hermosísimo...“ Commented Rollan making Gerda grin embarrassed at her slipping, then both turned around as they heard Sabrina cry about her father in danger.

„Have you got any idea?“ Asked Rollan. „I don‘t know, how I can get up there,“

„Maybe we should attack him from here,“ Suggested Gerda, then Rollan nodded and ran towards the supervillain, making Gerda drop her mouth. „What are you going to do?“ Asked Gerda watching the superhero move his arms back causing two fireballs on the hands, then jumped up and hit with them the feet of the supervillain, causing the metal of the feet to melt a little. Rollan looked up at the robot, which moved his feet hard yeeting Rollan across the air, so he would crash with his back against the wall of the school. Gerda ran at the superhero to check for him, then helped him sat up.

„Are you okay?“ Asked Gerda making him nod.

„Yah,“ Replied the brunette. „My fire isn‘t powerful enough to harm him,“

„I saw,“ Responded Gerda and looked at the supervillain, which used his other hand to open the door of the police car, then stopped as the policeman began to shot with his gun at him.

„I think I have an idea,“ Gerda said running at the robot then used her ice power to build around the feet of the robot ice and Rollan sat up observing her doing that. Rollan looked up at the robot, then at the schoolhouse, and had an idea, then run into the school building leaving Gerda alone trying to stop the villain with her ice power.

For a long while, Gerda continued using her ice power seeing she made it to froze the feet of the robot in it, then smiled as he didn‘t move his feet in it. Gerda raised her hand in victory, then the robot tried to pull out his right leg, making pressure on the ice, which began to decay, making Gerda wide her eyes as her plan didn‘t quite work well.

From above the schoolhouse, Gerda spotted Rena Rouge fly against the car, then catapult herself away from it, while pushing Roger Raincomprix out of the vehicle and she landed on the ground, followed by catching the heavy man almost bringing the heroine down on the ground.

„Gosh! Are you heavy!“ Complained Rena Rouge, then the supervillain broke out off the ice and Gerda ran in Rena‘s direction throwing ice at the supervillain to stop him, unsuccessfully.

„Sorry, we‘re new here,“ Gerda commented watching Rena Rouge drop the policeman on the ground, which ran to his daughter and shrieked as the robot dropped the police car over the two.

„Watch out!“ Shouted Rena Rouge then Gerda used her ice power causing a long bridge to appear over the Raincomprix‘s and it hit the bridge, causing it to break, making Gerda scream and before it fell on top of the family Ladybug showed up, coming from the school and used her yo-yo to pull them away, before getting hurt.

„Well done, Ladybug!“ Chanted Rena Rouge, then Ladybug pointed at the school court, where the two members ran into and Ladybug noticed the foreign girl and figured out, that she was wearing the ice miraculous.

„Where did you find that miraculous?“ Asked Ladybug pointing at the wreath.

„It‘s actually mine,“ Gerda responded. „Or it‘s very identical to the wreath I lost,“

„Look….“Ladybug commented, then she heard the shatter of a window, then looked up along with Gerda to see the fire-themed superhero jump out off the window against the supervillain, landing on the middle of his leg, then he used both hands to create a fireball and grabbed the iron of his leg to melt it.

Ladybug facepalmed, then watched Gerda use her ice power to freeze the leg of the villain, then she stopped as she saw the robot push Rollan off his leg into his doom, then Gerda quickly used her ice to freeze the villain‘s foot and Rollan landed on the ice, slipping against Gerda's arms, which caught him. The boy grinned abashedly, then got dropped to the ground as Ladybug approached the duo.

„I see both of you are new. Per coincidence, I already defeated this villain once. The main goal is getting into the head of the villain and destroy the car keys,“ Stated Ladybug, then she heard Cat Noir‘s staff and looked from above the houses behind the bakery to see the cat-themed superhero come along and land on the head of the supervillain, then he knocked on the head of the supervillain.

„Cou cou!“ Greeted Cat Noir gazing upside down into the cabin of the car to see the human, that was akumatized and used his staff to break the windshield, then the robot moved with his upper body hastily causing Cat Noir to fall off, then grab himself on the waist of the robot.

„How shall we get up without any help?“ Asked Gerda looking at Ladybug, then Rena Rouge had an idea and grabbed the girl on her shoulder.

„Follow me you two,“ Asked Rena Rouge switching from Gerda to Rollan, then both followed the fox-themed superheroine and Ladybug looked at her yo-yo, then threw it up to activate her lucky charm.

„Lucky charm!“ Shouted the heroine, then received a large ladder and chuckled about it. „Wow this is actually useful….in a way,“ Commented the spotted heroine, then looked around the place and noticed the car of the police agent lie broken in front of the stairs, then she had an idea and ran at the car to place the ladder over the car. Ladybug watched Cat Noir jump off the Autobot, landing on the ground, and observed the Autobot hit himself on the leg, making Cat Noir grin.

„You‘ve got a plan, bugaboo?“ Asked Cat Noir, then Ladybug pointed at the ladder.

„I had expected you to remain up on Apace there for a little longer and jump down at the ladder, but now I think you‘ve gotta do it in another way,“

„From above the school?“ Suggested Cat Noir, then heard the window of the school getting broken, then both looked up to see Rollan‘s superhero form fly towards the supervillain, getting closer to his head, beginning to distract him. „I wasn‘t aware he could do that,“ Cat Noir commented surprised making Ladybug chuckle.

„Rena is quite imaginative, isn‘t she?“ Asked Ladybug looking at Cat Noir, which then understood, Ladybug had already figured out it was an illusion. Rollan‘s alter ego jumped out off the window and Cat Noir jumped at the middle of the ladder and got on the top of it, making the ladder swank down and Rollan‘s landing on the other side catapulted Cat Noir up at the driver cabin, thereafter Cat Noir broke with his staff the side of the window, then blocked with it the driver and activated his cataclysm to destroy his car keys to reveal the akuma.

„Bingo!“ Cat Noir chanted, then the villain packed Cat Noir on his head, trying to hold him down, and moved his hand close to Cat Noir‘s hand.

„Why is it taking so long?“ Asked Rollan looking at Ladybug, which noticed Cat Noir‘s odd movements from down, then she looked up at the roof to see Rena Rouge and Gerda‘s alter ego.

„Hey, snowgirl! Jump down and help the fire guy up at the robot head to help Cat Noir out!“ Ordered Ladybug, then Gerda looked down at Rollan‘s alter ego, which waited for her to jump down. „Don‘t worry,“

„Come on, you‘ll do just fine. I trust you,“ Rollan said loud, then Gerda jumped down landing with her feet on the end of the ladder catapulting Rollan up on the robot, then he landed on top of Cat Noir and grabbed the hands of the villain to prevent him to remove the ring off Cat Noir‘s hands.

„What‘s the next plan?“ Asked Rollan, then Cat Noir moved his head to look at the villain trying to find another place, where an amok could be located eventually.

„Do you see here anything loose?“ Asked Cat Noir, then Rollan looked around noticing on the rearview mirror a religious necklace hanging on it. He then kept looking around the vehicle and glanced back at the mirror.

„What about the necklace on the mirror?“ Asked Rollan making the superhero nod.

„That must it be, destroy it,“ Ordered Cat Noir, then Rollan picked the necklace and pressed it tight together causing fire with his hands, so it would get pulverized by him, then a blue feather flew out off the broken windshield making Cat Noir smile. „Well done,“ Complimented Cat Noir and Rollan watched the feather fly out, then they heard Ladybug activate her healing light to restore everything back to normal and around the robot passed by her light and removed the robot, dropping the two superheroes on the ground. Rollan got confused, afterward looked around himself to see, what had happened and looked at Cat Noir.

"Is your hair really burning?" Asked Cat Noir looking at the rookie, which was checking the surroundings wondering, where the robot had gone.

„Where did the robot go?“ Asked Rollan. Cat Noir spotted the citizen, that had been de-akumatized appear on the ground and beside him stood a blue, American muscle car. Cat Noir got up and went down on his knees to check on the man.

„Did you get caught on another illegal race, Anthony?“ Asked Cat Noir making the man shake his head.

„Not really, but I broke the speed limit and got my license taken away. I actually deserved it anyway, but I have let the anger take over me,“ Explained the driver, then Rollan looked into the car to see the necklace on the mirror, then got down to the man as well.

„That necklace in there, I used to have one from my mother, but I‘ve lost it,“ Commented Rollan.

„I‘ve got it there as a lucky charm,“ Stated the driver. „But I should really keep the velocity down. Not because of my life, I could bring someone else in danger or even erase someone‘s life, who‘s most likely to be innocent,“

„We never know,“ Commented Cat Noir, then Rollan got up to approach Ladybug, Rena Rouge and Gerda‘s alter ego, then smiled at the girls.

„We‘re not quite the skilled heroes here,“ Commented Rollan. „I‘m not sure, how we got to be them or if we deserve it,“

„Actually I‘ve lost your two‘s miraculouses during my last fight and I needed to retrieve it, but you two were fighting without any hesitation and trying to help. I think I‘ll let you keep them. Now that Shadow Moth is stronger than before it would be really good to have more team members. This was your first time, you two will gain skills with the time,“

„Yes,“ Agreed Gerda looking at Rollan‘s alter ego, which smiled at her and bowed down at the girl.

„Have you two actually a name?“ Asked Rena. „You know a superhero one?“

„Exactly, no one has to know who our identity is. No one. This is most important, cause if Hawk Moth knows about our other identity, we and our family and friends will be in danger,“

„Sure,“ Responded Rollan.

„I promise,“ Gerda added.

„So, what‘s your hero name?“ Asked Ladybug. „Paris needs to know, who these two newbies are,“

„Well I would need to think about how I should call myself...something feminine,“ Stated Gerda while Rollan pondered about it.

„Fire King, I‘m Fire King,“ Stated Rollan making Ladybug smile.

„It does‘t have to be complicated. Something very simple like uhm….Ice Queen“ Suggested Ladybug making Rena chuckle.

„Or Frosty, Frosty-girl, Queen Frost…….Ice Frost….“ Suggested the Fire King making Gerda chuckle, then she figured out a name she could use.

„Hey, I think I‘ve got one…...What about, Lady Frost?“

„It‘s up to you, if you like it,“ Mentioned Ladybug earning a nod from Rena Rouge.

„I like it,“ Rena commented making Gerda smile.

„I find it suits you,“ Added Fire King earning a nod from the light blonde girl, then Ladybug lifted her fist up in the middle, then watched Cat Noir and Rena Rouge get beside the two and look at the two newbies. Rena Rouge moved her eyes calling the attention of the two rookies, which smiled and placed their one hand in the middle to do a group fist bump.

„Pound it!“ Said the group together, seconds later Fire King and Lady Frost repeated their sentence, then saw Cat Noir‘s ring beep.

„Oh excuse me, I gotta go, see you another time,“ Cat Noir said waving at the group.

„How long have you been superheroes if I may ask?“ Questioned Lady Frost watching Ladybug think about it.

„I think about two years, almost,“ Replied the blue-haired girl. „I‘ve got a lot of experience on my back. You two are new, inexperienced, and are probably new to us all. Eventually to each other as well. The more we work together in the future, the better you two get,“

„Thank you for your confidence, Ladybug,“ Commented Lady Frost giving the heroine her hand to shake, then saw Ladybug‘s earring beep.

„Oh I gotta go as well, before I transform back,“ Warned Ladybug earning a nod from Rena Rouge, which saluted at the duo and ran away. Ladybug used her yo-yo and swung away, disappearing behind the building and Fire King and Lady Frost looked at each other.

„Do we know each other?“ Asked Fire King making the ice-themed heroine shake her head.

„Probably not. I don‘t seem to recognize you,“ Responded Lady Frost making the brunette nod.

„I felt like I‘ve seen you before,“ Commented Fire King. „I don‘t know, maybe your eyes made me feel like I‘ve seen them before,“

Lady Frost chuckled, then patted the superhero on the shoulder.

„Probably just a coincidence. There are more people with blue eyes. Might just be a coincidence,“ Explained Lady Frost. „I have to go. We will see each other next time,“ Mentioned the blonde making the fire-themed superhero nod and watch the heroine ran into the school court. Fire King smiled enchanted as the heroine went upstairs and leaned his back against the railing of the school sighing.

[theshadowsong]

Living

Part 2 of "a strange encounter" you can read it as stand alone I guess, but it would make more sense if you reading Part 1 first

The story of my WoL and Zenos first meeting… both are children, actually contains a bit of fluff, English is not my native language so sorry for mistakes ~

„You mean there‘s something wrong with me?“ It was just a whisper, but one that sent a shiver down her spine. The boy let go of her abruptly, his expression suddenly icy."

The metallic sound of steel on steel echoed through the room as the mysterious guests performed their dance with swords. Elegantly, student and teacher dodged each other and elegantly parried each blow.

Three hours had passed since Fine returned with the oil, and since then she had done her best to avoid the strangers. Trust was not her strong point, especially with people who showed up with a whole crowd of Imperial soldiers and who so obviously traveled under false names.

Nevertheless, she had let herself be persuaded by the master to attend this little show fight. The girl had retreated to the farthest corner and was carefully watching their every move.

The blond boy was maybe one or two years older than her, but already two heads taller. His eyes were always alert, studying the fluid movements of his teacher. Despite his attentiveness, however, his entire facial expression seemed rather as if he were terribly bored.

Her gaze drifted to Dholar. The guild master stood against the wall with his arms folded as he watched the scene. He seemed pensive and somehow lost in thought.

Fine sighed, brushed a white curl from her face, and then stealthily slipped out of the room. The air suddenly felt terribly stuffy and there was a mood in the air that she couldn‘t explain.

Heat didn‘t bother her much in most cases and since the morning hours it had already become much warmer. The sun was still high on the horizon and yet the weather weighed heavily on her today.

„A tea, sweetheart?“ Linina looked towards her from the reception desk. She was a rather tall hyur in her 40s. Dark hair and skin of a typical Ala Mhigan, with unusual green eyes scurried worryfull away without waiting for an answer to set up a pot of tea.

Normally Fine would check on her sister at noon. But she would also have to let Dholar know beforehand, and nothing in the world would make her want to go into the room now, when she had been able to sneak out so cleverly.

„You look distressed.“ There he was, the blond boy who was so good with swords. His hair fell in his face over his dark headband. He wore a plain white shirt, with black pants of light leather, good for training. So much for the perfect sneak out.

„I‘m fine.“ She tried to turn away, but he grabbed her by the arm and firmly stopped her from doing so. Her whole body tensed at the touch.

„Pretty rude to just lie to an Imperial like that. It doesn‘t turn out so well in most cases.“ Fine stared at him. Hyde - or whatever his real name was - smiled at her. A smile, though, that didn‘t reach his eyes.

„I don‘t see why you should be so interested in my well-being.“ She had no idea where she found the courage to talk to him like that, but it somehow seemed fitting to put him in his place.

„Pretty rude, by the way, is touching strangers.“ His grip had already loosened, but he still held her by the arm. As far as Fine could tell, his fake smile turned to a real one and he nodded. „Touché.“

A few uncomfortable seconds passed, during which Hyde made no move to let go of her. Instead, he stared at the place where his hand lay as if it were a foreign object over which he had no control. Fine cleared her throat. „Um...and is everything okay with you?“ This was definitely one of the strangest conversations she‘d ever had.

„You mean there‘s something wrong with me?“ It was just a whisper, but one that sent a shiver down her spine. The boy let go of her abruptly, his expression suddenly icy.

„Uh... That‘s not really what I meant. I meant more like... well... are you fine?“ Fine quietly put a little distance between herself and Hyde, who was now staring at her as if she had spoken a completely different language.

„I don‘t think anyone‘s ever asked me that before,“ was all he said as Linina reappeared, cup of tea in hand. „Tea‘s up, honey - oh I didn‘t see you there.“

But Hyde paid no attention, gave Fine one last look, and then just left her standing there.

„That was weird,“ she muttered.

- Zenos POV -

„Are you okay?“ The question repeated itself in his head over and over again.

He wasn‘t doing badly, at least. He got everything he wanted, his servants would rather cut off a hand than not fulfill a wish of his... because otherwise they were threatened with far worse. He had enough food, a warm bed and was heir to the most powerful empire of his time.

But was he doing well?

To be honest, he did not know how to answer that.

Let alone that anyone would be seriously interested. Not his father or great-grandfather, not his servants and certainly not his teacher, who was only waiting for a suitable moment to drive a sword through his chest. Zeno‘s fingernails dug into his fist. But as indifferent as he was to them, so were they to him too. He didn‘t care what they did or said or... felt. For a brief moment he wondered what his mother would have said to all this.

His grip tightened, but he didn‘t even seem to notice that he was hurting himself. Would his mother care? He didn‘t have the slightest idea what it meant to care about someone. That‘s when he felt his fingertips dig into his arm so deeply that it was bleeding.

He watched absently as a small drop of blood formed and fell to the ground. Only then did he wake from his trance, the prince blinked and opend his hand. A brief pain passed through him, which, not entirely to his dissatisfaction, cleared his head a bit.

The next time he saw the Au Ra, she was hugging a small figure. His gaze followed her every move as she gently brushed blue curls from the figures face. She said something he couldn‘t hear. Zenos had no great desire to converse, not because he was embarrassed by his previous behavior, but simply because he was tired of the same, terribly dull questions. „What‘s wrong with you?“ His father‘s arrogant voice sounded in his head. Annoyed, he shook off that thought.

The girl had spotted him at the end of the room, but quickly turned away. Curiosity overrode his aversion to stupid questions. As he got closer, he noticed that the other girl was also an Au Ra. Siblings? When she saw him coming, her grip tightened around the younger one. Definitely her sister - Zenos decided - judging by her protective instinct.

„I don‘t think I‘ve even asked your name,“ his head turned to the other Au Ra. „And your companion.“ To his surprise, the younger one did not avoid his gaze. In the contrary, she practically pierced him with her shimmering golden eyes. „Fine.“ said Fine, not taking her eyes off him for a second. „And this is my sister, Rue.“

Ah - so he had been right. Fine luckly didn‘t seem to want to elaborate on his strange behavior and shook her head.

„Dholar has already told me your name, but it would be rude not to ask.“

Well, it wasn‘t really a question, but Zenos couldn‘t help but pick out the slightly sarcastic undertone. She knew Hyde was nothing more than a pseudonym. No wonder, with all the effort the soldiers were making to ensure his safety.

Oh, he was tempted - and how tempted he was to just tell her his true identity. He wanted to see how she reacted. Would she be afraid? Become angry?

The words were already on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them. Would the reaction really be worth it? At the risk that the Tribunus would not simply entrench him behind walls again and that his everyday life would consist of the same conversations and annoying political talk with van Baelsar - no, he preferred to take advantage of the little freedoms he had here.

„Hyde.“ he forced himself to say.

- Fine pov -

Fine could see him hesitate for a moment and seriously wondered why. On one hand, she was curious, she wanted to know who she was dealing with, but on the other hand, she didn‘t want too much attention from this strange boy. „Anyway,“ she cleared her throat, „we have to go now.“ She took Rue by the hand.

„Finished working already, huh?“ Hyde smiled, and the teasing tone was hard to miss. „Pretty much yes... Apart from that,“ she pointed out a window, the sun already setting, „you may not care, but normal people have to be home before curfew,“ a chuckle came from him and he struck a surprisingly gentle tone. „Well, I won‘t keep you then.“

Fine and Rue scurried home through the streets of Ala Mhigo, and not too slowly. The door closed behind them just as a bell announced curfew. Sighing, Fine dropped into a chair. „What was going on with you guys today?“ Rue looked at her sister nervously, „you‘ve never been gone this long before.“

„Dholar was busy.... I didn‘t want to ask and well... you saw our guests yourself.“ She was far too tired to elaborate and rose from her chair to check on the dove from the morning.

„I think Hades ate it.“ Rue pointed to a bundle full of feathers and then looked around searchingly for the cat. „At least, one would be full today.“

„Great.“ But there was no use getting upset about it, instead the white-haired girl opened a closet door and actually found some old cookies.

„Here, Linina gave me these.“ She handed the package to her little sister and then lay down on the mattress.

„Go ahead and eat them, I‘ll find something better tomorrow.“ Rue sat down with her and handed her a cookie. „Well I don‘t need all of them either, way too sweet, I‘m going to be sick.“

She forced herself to smile and Fine laughed dryly. „Alright, thanks.“ With that they both snuggled down on the mattress and soon fell asleep.

Almost a month went by with nothing really happening and slowly they got used to the mysterious strangers. Hyde liked to make a mocking comment here and there about Fine‘s work in the guild, which she countered with a comment about his spoiled ass. At first he was visibly surprised, but it quickly became clear that neither of them was particularly serious. In fact, it was actually really fun.

The only thing Fine didn‘t want to get used to were the visits from the Tribunus, the grim man immediately spoiled the mood of everyone in the vicinity when he appeared. Even his protégé didn‘t seem too happy about it when he showed up to „see if he was all right“ Hyde always looked extra bored.

As if they lived in a strange in-between world, where it didn‘t matter that they were actually enemies and as long as the Tribunus was not present, everyone could say what they wanted - without consequences.

It was already dark outside and Dholar had told her to put away the plates from lunch and lock up afterwards. She had to hurry if she wanted to get home in time. Fine put down the still dripping plate and silently thanked for the existing sink. Tired, she closed the door to the kitchen and was about to turn off the light in the training room when she saw Hyde‘s figure sitting at the edge of the sandpit. He had put his headband aside and didn‘t seem to notice her at all. His arms hugged his legs, blond hair spilling down his face.

„Hyde?“

He moved his head slightly in her direction, just to show that he had noticed her. Fine sat down next to him and together they were silent for a while.

She was about to ask what was wrong, when she remembered his last reaction about such a simple question. He isn‘t used people worry about him. She reformulated her question. „How do you feel?“ she asked softly, making an effort to look at him. On his forehead, the Garleans third eye - not exactly a surprise.

The boy gave a quiet hum and closed his eyes, but said nothing else. Fine was already used to this behavior and just waited until he was ready to say something. When the minutes passed and he still said nothing, she turned to him again.

„Would you rather be alone?“

„No!“, his voice sounded somehow heavy - almost panic-stricken and a hand sprang to her arm to hold her tight, as if he wanted to stop her from leaving. Yet she had made no attempt to get up at all. Briefly, Fine winced from the unexpected action.

„Okay.“ She put her hand on his and Hyde‘s grip loosened a bit again, but didn‘t let go.

„Did I hurt you?“ He still wasn‘t looking at her and she was starting to get really worried.

„No, I‘m fine. Hyde what‘s -“

„That‘s not my name.“ His grip tightened again.

„Oh, don‘t tell me that should surprise me now.“ Fine gave him a smile and finally, finally he looked at her. The Garlean laughed dryly. „Well, I guess it wasn‘t a very clever lie - not my idea, by the way.“

„Of course not.“

He sighed and again they sat in silence - getting home on time was something she could probably forget today. The girl said nothing, just squeezed his hand. He looked so lost, sitting next to her ike that.

„Well?“ she asked tentatively after a while, reminding him that she was still there.

„Well what?“ he looked at her, confused, until he realized what she wanted. „Oh -“

Fine chuckled, „Come on now you have to tell me your real name.“

An expression slid over his face that she couldn‘t quite interpret, and she noticed his hesitation, grip tightened even further.

„But you don‘t have to“

He shook is head: „Zenos yae Galvus...“ a short pause, „...my great-grandfather is the emperor.“

[waiting-for-motivation]

blood in the snow

summary: While looking for shelter from a snow storm the Mandalorian meets an old friend. Like usually problems follow the bounty hunter. And never forgotten feelings tear the warrior apart until he finally makes the right decision.

pairings: Din Djarin x Reader

warnings: angsty, sad stuff, death, blood, tooth rotting fluff in the end

words: 3268

a/n: I‘m kind of proud of this fic so I would really like to hear your opinion about it! Stay save everybody!

I wrote a fic you can read as the second part: no responsibilities

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

Smoke rises from the chimney and gets lost in the snow storm. The fire inside the little hut shines through the windows.

A man with a beskar armor approaches the hut, hoping the owner will permit him shelter. He presses a bundle to his chest. His dark boots disappear in the deep snow with every step he takes.

Arriving at the hut the Mandalorian raises his gloved fist to knock. For some time the only sound reaching his ears is the howling of the wind. Then the door opens and a familiar face stares at him. To his surprise the person is aiming a blaster at his helmet.

„(Y/n)?“, the Mandalorian asks and can‘t believe his own eyes. The girl doesn‘t lower her weapon. Instead, she starts closing her door again because she remembers what Din Djarin said to her the last time they saw each other. She remembers everything.

Luckily, the Mandalorian can push his boot between door and frame. (Y/n) stares at him with an annoyed expression.

„What do you want, D-... Mandalorian?“, she asks and it almost sounds like she wanted to use his real name. At the last moment she remembers the promise she made years ago. Never again will his real name leave her mouth. Because it‘s cursed in her eyes.

The armed man shows (Y/n) the bundle. A green baby with huge ears is blinking tiredly at the girl. He must be freezing.

With a sigh (Y/n) opens the door far enough for the Mandalorian and his cute child to slip into the hut. Warmth surrounds the half frozen bodies immediately.

Their host walks through the small living room and in a back room where she usually sleeps. (Y/n) returns with a few blankets and a pillow.

„You can sleep on the couch. Well, if you sleep.“ Without looking at Din, she puts the blankets on the couch. „The kid can sleep on the arm chair. I hope it‘s soft enough“, (Y/n) adds a little less harsh.

The girl turns to her makeshift kitchen and collects some food as well as tea. Turning back to her two guests she realizes that they are still standing by the door. Her (e/c) eyes stare at the Mandalorians helmet with some kind of hatred. Where now lays hate in her heart was once love.

„It‘s for the child. Not for you“, she says and refers to the food and tea. (Y/n) wants to go back to her small back room but a hand grabs her wrist. The Mandalorian has put the baby down and is now staring at the female. Well, only he knows where he is looking at because the helmet hides his whole face. And every feeling he ever showed.

„I didn‘t know you lived here. I promise. The reason why I‘m here is the child. I‘m looking for his home“, Din explains. (Y/n) smiles false and with contempt in her eyes.

„Don’t touch me. You already told me everything.“ And this doesn‘t only include his explanation moments ago. (Y/n) tears her wrist from his grip and goes to her bedroom. The door closes with a loud thud.

Din sighs and looks at his child. His ears are hanging low, almost as if he can feel his fathers pain.

The Mandalorian lays the child on the soft arm chair and covers him with the thickest blanket, handing him the cup of tea. After he finished the warm drink, the child falls asleep quickly. Then Din lays down on the couch, not taking of his helmet and stares at the ceiling. He can‘t sleep, not because he is uncomfortable, no the reason is (Y/n).

In the other room the girl suffers from the same problem.

A broken heart.

The razor crest is flying through space. But neither do stars nor moons matter to the two humans inside the space ship.

A girl is laying on the small bed, unconscious. Lots of injuries cover her body. The man kneeling next to her can‘t think straight. It was his fault (Y/n) got hurt. They were on a bounty hunt together and the Mandalorian noticed too late that they were running right into a trap.

Carefully, (Y/n) opens her eyes and groans because of the pain. One of her hands touches the bandage around her middle. Din stands up and takes her hand in his gloved ones.

„Don‘t move. You are badly injured“, he says and watches the girl close her eyes again.

„I feel like a blurrg swallowed me and spit me out“, (Y/n) states and smiles because laughing would cause too much pain.

The Mandalorian kneels on the floor again and sighs deeply. This accident made him realize something. He doesn‘t want to live without (Y/n) anymore. He can‘t.

„It wasn‘t your fault. I wasn‘t paying attention“, (Y/n) whispers, opens her eyes and applies some pressure on Dins hand.

And even though the Mandalorian told her not to do it, (Y/n) sits up. Now she is on helmet level with him. Hesitantly, she leans her forehead against the cold metal of the helmet. Her (e/c) eyes close once again.

For a moment the only sound in the razor crest is the buzzing of machines. The two of them even stop breathing for a few seconds.

„Din.“

„(Y/n).“

They laugh. The girl opens her eyes and stares at the emotionless face of the helmet. Her lips meet the cold metal.

„I won‘t let anyone or anything hurt you“, Din says and makes (Y/n) smile. „I love you.“

After a restless night (Y/n) leaves her bed and puts on some warm clothes. She rubs her eyes, trying to wake herself up but it doesn’t really work. As silent as possible she enters the kitchen and living room. Her eyes wander to her two guests. The child is fast asleep on the couch while Din Djarin is lying on the couch with his helmet. (Y/n) can’t be sure if he is asleep or awake but what would it change? Nothing.

Taking a huge sip from cold water, (Y/n) starts feeling a little more awake but the water can’t cure her pain. She is still thinking about why the Mandalorian appeared at her door step last night. It must be destiny. Well, then fuck destiny.

(Y/n) walks though the whole room, opening the front door only to be meet with a cold wind and a pile of snow falling on her wooden floor. Preferably the girl wants to curse, but she doesn’t want to wake up her guests, so her mouth stays shut.

The whole region is covered in snow. But that’s not what worries (Y/n). The planet she stays on is famous for its snow storms. What worries the girl is her dog. Well, to be precise: the lack of her dog.

“What are you looking for?”, the Mandalorian asks and tears the girl from her thoughts, scaring her for a moment too. (Y/n) looks from the snow covered area to the armed man behind her.

“Definitely not your ugly ass”, (Y/n) growls and takes a step forward, her boots disappearing in the deep snow. Without thinking further about leaving the Mandalorian and his child in her hut, the girl walks further until she hears heavy steps behind her. The Mandalorian catches up with her.

“Where are you going?”, he asks but gets no answer till he reaches a hand out to hold the girl back. Quickly, (Y/n) takes a huge step away from him and stares with an angrily at the man. She realizes he must have run back into the hut to get his child because it’s resting in his arms.

“Dog is gone which means I’m going to get him. Now leave me alone, asshole”, the girl says harshly. She continues to walk, passing the edge of the next forest. Dog loves this forest. He loves to chase the black rabbits. He loves to play in the snow and can’t stop himself from liking every icicle he sees. Dog is the perfect companion for (Y/n).

“Wait, you named your dog Dog?”, the Mandalorian asks confused but still follows the girl. The last thing he wants is to lose her again and never have apologized as well as explained his actions of the past.

The three of them sneak through the forest. The only sound filling the air is the crackling of the snow under their boots. Unfortunately, there are no traces they can follow. They disappeared long ago under the snow just like the green grass.

Suddenly, the color red shines in the snow. At first only in small drops, then bigger puddles. But those turn into a huge area full of red snow. Directly in front of the razor crest.

(Y/n) lets her eyes wander from the huge spot of blood to the source of it. Her beloved wolf is hanging from the wing of the space ship - hung on his tail. His black fur seems to lost its color and his eyes stare back at her. His paws almost touch the snow under him, that‘s how huge he is.

Even though (Y/n) called him Dog doesn‘t mean he is one. To be honest he some kind of mutant wolf but that did never stop him from loving the girl. And it never did reduced (Y/n)s love towards him.

Instead of feeling sad at this moment, pure rage fills (Y/n)s body. Because she knows who is responsible for Dogs death.

“You little shit”, she screams as she throws a knife at the Mandalorians chest, which bounces off his beskar armor. The man raises his one hand, holding with the other his child. Only now (Y/n) realizes she could have hurt the little baby. Some kind of regret rises insider her head.

Before the Mandalorian can say anything to his defense, a dozen blaster point at their heads. Bounty hunters followed the Mandalorian as well as the child. Of course they did.

“We finally found you, Mando”, a blond man says and walks towards (Y/n). His fingers caress her cheek until they meet her neck. The girl clenches her hands into fists and would love to punch this idiot in the face. But that would mean her inevitable death.

“Give us the child, and we might be friendly to your little girlfriend”, the man says and grins at (Y/n), showing his ugly yellow teeth.

In contrary to her expectations, the Mandalorian hands the child to a bounty hunter. But the next moment he points his blasters at someone, shoots and starts a fight.

Quickly, (Y/n) runs to the one who is holding the baby and kills him with a blaster she found in the red snow. She presses the child to her chest and hopes for the Mandalorian to win this fight. Unfortunately, more bounty hunters jump from the trees and only seconds after their feet touch the ground, Din is laying in the bloody snow with a blaster to his helmet.

“That was your last fight, Mando”, the leader of the group says and wants to pull the trigger but (Y/n)s pleads stop him.

“Please. Don’t kill him. I will go with you. I have the child. Just leave him here. He will die in the next snow storm, I promise”, (Y/n) says with shiny eyes. The group of men looks at her. After some time the leader nods and takes his blaster out of Dins sight.

Slowly, (Y/n) walks to the men. One of them wraps an arm around her and presses her body to his filthy one. For one moment the female closes her eyes, trying to control her fear, anger and sadness.

“Oh, I promise you, Mando. I will do things to her you weren’t even able to think of. She will scream my name tonight”, the leader says, kneeling next to the Mandalorian. A grin decorating his disgusting face.

“But I can’t keep your promise, little one”, he says and looks back at (Y/n). Of course, he wouldn’t leave the most wanted Mandalorian in the whole universe alive. “I will kill you, Mando. What do you think, men? Should I take off his helmet?”

They were lying on the small and slightly uncomfortable cot in the razor crest, pressing their bodies together. Their arms as well as legs were entangled. (Y/n)s head was resting on Dins chest without his armor on.

The room was filled with silence but both of their heads were full of thoughts. While (Y/n) was trying to figure out what to talk about, the Mandalorian has other thoughts. He was looking for the right words to tell his girl he wants to leave the guild. That he wants to take off his helmet just for her. So that they can start a new life on a beautiful planet. So that he can love her properly.

(Y/n) sighed and cuddled the man she loved harder, wrapping her arms so tight around him it was almost difficult for him to breathe.

Till today, he doesn’t know why but at this moment something changed his thoughts completely. It was definitely not the lack of love towards (Y/n). Maybe it was the human touch and warmth he was still not used to. Maybe it was the peace of the moment. But he felt angry and quickly left the cot as well as (Y/n).

How dare someone have such an effect on him that he wants to give up everything?

(Y/n) looked at him with worry as he put on his armor again. He went straight to the cockpit to fly the razor crest to the next planet and leave (Y/n) there.

The moment the door opened (Y/n) was confused because that was definitely not the planet they were heading to.

“You stay here”, the Mandalorian said and pushed the girl out of the space ship. (Y/n) raised her eyebrows in confusion when he gave her a backpack full of food and cloths. Everything she ever owned was inside this backpack.

“What do you mean?” The Mandalorian turned his back to her and wanted to close the door again. Without an explanation. “Din?” He turns his helmet back to (Y/n).

“I don’t love you”, he said and with those words he disappeared out of (Y/n)s life. Without an explanation.

Everything happens so suddenly, (Y/n) has problems following the movement of the animals. The first one ending up dead is the man holding the girl to his chest. Because he doesn’t let got of her, (Y/n) falls in the snow too.

The huge black, brown and white wolves tear the bounty hunters to pieces. When one of them walks to the armed Mandalorian he raises his hand to protect himself with his fire thrower.

“No. He is a friend”, (Y/n) says while standing up and walks him, protecting him with her body. The black wolf stares at her with his huge eyes, then howls and the pack disappears behind the trees. They were Dogs friends.

(Y/n) takes a deep breath and without minding Dins groaning while he stands up, she walks inside the razor crest to lay the child on the cot. Memories fill her mind when seeing the makeshift bed which lets tears well up in her eyes. Before the Mandalorian can walk in on her crying, the girl wipes them away and walks out of the ship the moment Din wants to enter it. Her plan was to walk away without exchanging another word with him, but he holds her back.

“(Y/n), please. We need to talk”, the man says, tightening his grip on her wrist because he fears she might run away.

“I have nothing to say, Mando”, (Y/n) spits and after staring in his eyes with supposedly anger which is actually fear, she turns to the forest. But the Mandalorian doesn’t let her go. Not without an explanation.

“But I have to tell you so much. Listen and then you can choose between staying here with me or leaving.” (Y/n) turns back to the Mandalorian and nods. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did”, (Y/n) says with a broken voice.

“I know. I know that because it hurt me too to leave you on this planet, knowing I might never see you again. It broke me. It broke my heart to see you standing there in the middle of a forest, all alone. But I thought I had to do this. You don’t know but that day I thought about starting a life with you, (Y/n). I was ready to take off my helmet for you. But then I realized I couldn’t give up my way of life for one person.”

“Then it’s all cleared up. You don’t want me in your life because I endanger your religion. I understand”, (Y/n) says, rips her wrist from Dins grip and walks away from him. Not looking back.

“(Y/n)”, he says her name once, twice, even a third time, but she stops not until she hears steps in the snow. With a sigh the girl turns around and what awaits her there is taking her breath away.

The Mandalorian is standing in front of his beloved ship without his helmet. His face is covered in scars and some fresh scratches. His brown hair sticks to his head because the helmet simply doesn’t give much room for it. His almost innocent looking brown eyes stare at (Y/n) - with love.

“Din, no”, the girl whispers because she can’t think about the right words to say in this situation. Din Djarin just did what she least expected him to do. He gave up everything for her, so that they can be together. “No”, she says again but nevertheless the brown-haired man comes closer.

In her eyes he is perfect, even though his hair is greasy and he could use some shaving. He is gorgeous, so gorgeous.

“You have to put it back on”, (Y/n) says and points with a shaking hand to the helmet which lays in the red snow.

“It’s too late for my creed but it’s not too late for the two of us”, Din says and takes one last step so that he stands directly in front of (Y/n), only a few inches parting them. Tears well up in (Y/n) eyes because she can’t believe Din did this for her.

Unsure the Mandalorian grabs her waist and pulls her closer to his body. Oh, how he missed this feeling of her warmth next to his. His brown eyes meet hers. A small smile appears on his lips and makes his mustache rise.

“I love you so much, (Y/n)”, he says but his eyes are the proof. Din looks at (Y/n) as if she is the only one in this whole universe, as if she is his universe. He lets his hands wander from her waist to her face, grabbing it gently.

“I love you too, Din, but you have to put your hel-”, (Y/n) starts but gets interrupted by the Mandalorians soft lips. Butterflies fill her stomach and let the girl feel something she never felt before. Their lips move delicately.

But the kiss stops as fast as it started because both aren’t used to this. It’s their first kiss. For Din even the first kiss of his life.

Tears stream over (Y/n)s cheeks and wet Dins fingers which are still caressing his lovers beautiful face. With his thumb he wipes the tears away but others follows - tears of happiness.

Din places a kiss on (Y/n)s forehead and takes one of her hands, pulling her to the razor crest and the rest of their lives.

[for-i-am-dying-of-such-love]

that time I watched Antony + Cleopatra

I don’t even know where to start with this one. Please don’t mistake my criticism of the episode with my hating it, because I actually think there’s a lot going on here with Xena (and Gabrielle too, but I am less focused on her arc) that’s quite nuanced and compelling. I love that Xena’s role in orchestrating Marc Antony’s downfall contributes to her moral and emotional conflict. What I abhor (and refuse to accept) is the suggestion that it’s born out of her falling in *love* with him, especially when there are far more consequential things in Xena’s life, past and present, fueling her angst in this moment. I have my own reading of what’s causing Xena’s uneasiness here, but more on that in a bit.

First: I think my greatest frustration is with the show itself. Like, THE FUCKING AUDACITY to foist a Boyfriend of the Week on us with just a handful of episodes left in season five. After everything, *everything*, that Xena & Gabrielle have suffered through (actual, literal HELL), and the continued devotion they show for one another, it’s just not believable that Xena would fall in love with someone else, let alone a ROMAN GENERAL. The emphasis here is important, but patience grasshopper, I’ll get to that.

Now, here’s where we start to get into the weeds with this notion of ‘Xena falling in love’ and there’s a lot to unpack around it, but before I do, let me just finish unspooling the threads of frustration I have with the show and it’s AUDACITY. Because it’s important to note that the show’s intention *was* to frame Xena’s attraction for Marc Antony as romantic - on top of whatever else she may have initially felt (indifference, intrigue, lust) - and not just sexual. And while I’ll concede that a story where Xena is forced to sacrifice her heart for the greater good by killing the man she loves is intriguing, it’s one we’ve already seen (Immortal Beloved). More than that, it’s a story that doesn’t fit with the Xena we know now, and the show, better than anyone, should have recognized this.

I know I’m being hard on the show runners here, so allow me this small tangent to give a little contextual understanding before furthering my arguments. As much fun as it is wrestling with the internal logic of this show (a surprisingly uphill battle all the time), I understand the unfortunate truth is that character motivations don’t always drive the story in the ways you would expect. Sometimes external factors complicate the stories XWP wants to tell and the ways it’s *allowed* to tell them. I get that.

I also get that Xena: Warrior Princess - both the show and the character - was expected to be sexy (hello, an easy win because Xena & Gabrielle). And that means, from time to time, it had to tease the audience with sex and seduction and romance (I guess fighting demons in Hell for the soul of your SOULMATE is not romantic enough, but I DIGRESS). What that often translated as on screen was a parade of Boyfriends of the Week for our two favourite Gal Pals, and by this point in the show, well, frankly it had been a while since Xena had had her a boyfriend (the Ares arc in season 5 doesn’t count). Simply put: a Marc Antony type was past due.

In this case, he wasn’t just past due, he served a dual purpose - fulfilling their Boyfriend of the Week quota, but also helping to re-establish Xena’s sexuality after she’d had her baby. I happen to think the latter take is overly simplistic and misguided (because, what, pregnant women are not also capable of being sexual creatures?), but it’s something Rob Tapert has commented on. So, ok, sure, fine whatever.

To be fair, I’m not sure if the show was deliberately signalling the return of Sexualized!Xena, or if it was simply a byproduct of the chemistry between the characters, and the inherent sensuality of the story’s setting. Regardless, the end result was certainly titillating. And I get it. I get why they want Boyfriends of the Week sometimes. Sex sells, and this episode was a blockbuster.

And before I return again to being hard on the show runners about dumb boyfriends, I just want to point out that my specific problem isn’t that Xena has been given a *boy*friend. Xena is bisexual, so men are always going to be an option when she’s considering a romantic or sexual partner. My issue is that she’s considering *any* romantic partner at all! By the gods, she’s essentially married to Gabrielle at this point.

Ay, but there’s the rub. Because the same expectation that dictated XWP should be sexy, also dictated that it should be heteronormative. The show can repeatedly double down on Xena’s & Gabrielle’s emotional and spiritual fidelity but it can never be seen explicitly to be sexual too (just a reminder, I haven’t seen S6 yet). That’s the unfortunate and uncomfortable reality of television in the late 90s and early 00s.

But this is where I take umbrage: XWP may’ve been limited (by studio notes) to giving us a chalk outline of what Xena’s & Gabrielle’s relationship really looked like, but they most definitely had the ability to control how they coloured the relationships Xena & Gabrielle had with their Boyfriends of the Week. And again, in ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ the show chose to frame it as a love story, a romance, when simply playing it off as Xena’s libido run amok would have satisfied the episode’s need for sex appeal, while also honouring the fact that her heart has long been spoken for (don’t worry: taking Xena’s heart out of the equation won’t lessen her moral or emotional conflict any - I’m getting there!).

Because here’s the thing: Xena getting caught up in the heady thrill of a seduction play, especially with a man as attractive and powerful as Marc Antony is totally believable. And really, Xena taken in by *lust* makes sense, especially at this point in her life. I mean, it’s been a while since she’s had to play this seductive cat-and-mouse game (Ares doesn’t count) and maybe she’s forgotten how easy it is to slip into this character, how much fun it can be. Maybe it’s even a little liberating - this return to form from when she was wild and free - because a lot has changed since she last had to do this; she’s changed and in ways she never anticipated. She’s settled down, even if she’s still travelling the known world. Made a commitment to Gabrielle to share a life together, had a baby, and now the three of them are carving out their own little domestic sphere. And all of this is happening while she’s still reconciling the person she was before with the person she is now. Maybe she’s a little itchy.

Because this… this tension, the cadence of a feint and parry charm offensive, it’s familiar. Comfortable in a way she didn’t know she missed until she felt it again. It would be easy to see her drunk with dark delight, to momentarily lose sight of her head. It would be believable. What’s not believable is that she - a pragmatist - would ever lose sight of her heart. Because the stakes of the game are so high, for Egypt but also for her. (And for you in the back who’s clearly read ahead on the syllabus and is about to point out Xena’s checkered romantic history and her self-proclaimed soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools - don’t worry, we’ll get there too.)

What I’m taking a generous amount of time to say is this: if they simply wanted to give us a lush and sexy episode, they could have delivered on the sexiness without attaching it to a love story! We are long past believing Xena only kisses people she’s in love with, or that she’s in love with all the people she kisses. There’s no need to pretend her sexual agency is only relevant or operational within the confines of a romantic plot line. But more than that, throwing an unbelievable romance into the mix really only serves to threaten the integrity of Xena’s motivations, because it risks reducing the entirety of her turmoil to: Xena loses another boyfriend, how le sad. And that is absolutely not the point.

Because the point is this: Rome fucking corrupts and perverts everything it touches. And Xena’s motivations are built from her (and now Gabrielle’s) tortured history with the empire and the men who run it. And if you’ll permit me, like 4,000 words, we can get into it and, hopefully, you’ll agree that shit is heavy enough on Xena’s mind without a ‘star-crossed lovers’ storyline. Remember, it was only a year ago that they both were nailed up by Romans and left to die under a cold, grey sky at the foot of Mount Amaro. That cross alone, and the long shadow it casts, is more than capable of supporting the dramatic weight of this episode, never mind the crosses that came before it.

So, I can’t overstate the importance of Xena’s past connection with Caesar and Rome. It informed so much of who Xena was to become, as a cruel and bloodthirsty warlord, and then later, as a warrior fighting for good. Even now, after Caesar’s death, that connection is still informing her. It will never stop. And, Rome will never be absolved of its sins against Xena & Gabrielle. There’s simply too much trauma in that shared past. Trauma that‘s telegraphed onto every interaction Xena has with Rome and its strongmen going forward.  

And it’s exactly the reason Xena would never fall in love with Marc Antony. She might well lust after his body, but she will never pine for his devotion. Because, even in that moment under the stars when he is just a man with his chest cracked open, offering up to her his heart, beating strong and hungry in want of her affection, she can’t help but see the hardened, black veins where the love of Rome - like a creeping scourge - has left its vile mark. Of course she recognizes it, her own heart bore the same disease. A gift from Caesar. The pretty boy with his pretty words and his pretty promises, who so subtly disarmed Xena and then skillfully stripped away her defences until she had bared her heart to him. Who didn’t hesitate to flay it with a knife of her own making, it’s blade poisoned with his love for Rome.  

He did not take her heart - sometimes she wished he had - but left it to rot in her chest, slow and angry. And it nearly destroyed her. Nearly drained her of every ounce of humanity she had left, as hatred and spite and cold brutality filled her up instead. He had weaponized Xena’s affection for him and used it against her and she was forever changed. In that singular moment she saw Caesar, and Rome - because Caesar was Rome and Rome was Caesar and they were one and the same - for what they truly were: insidious and unrepentant in their calculated villainy. And she hated - not just the man who betrayed her, but the monster who nursed him with poisoned milk, and all the other strongmen who nursed at the same teat. Because in that moment too, Xena learned that all the men who kneeled before Rome and lusted after her glory were the same.

But she didn’t let her hatred go unproductive. She had been careless and imprudent in her dealings with Caesar, and nearly paid for it with her life. Except she survived and then thrived, in her own insidious, unrepentant, calculated villainy. And she never forgot what Caesar had done to her, how he had done it. She turned it over and over and over again in her mind. Studied it from every angle. Studied *him*. Until she knew how he thought, how he moved, where he was weak and unsuspecting. Until she knew every single one of his plays, and how best to counter them. Where and when to lay siege. A secret weapon she cultivated, not just to destroy the man who destroyed her heart, but to lay waste to all the fools who followed in his footsteps. She wouldn’t be taken in by Rome again.

And, to be fair, the episode doesn’t try to run from this history. It just doesn’t linger in it any longer than is necessary to give a brief nod to Brutus and the crucifixion (which is a shame, because it informs so much of both Xena’s & Gabrielle’s psychology, but we’re getting there!!!). Even still, Gabrielle’s first words are loaded with its legacy, if not also quiet resignation: “Are we really going to do this?” Because: Fuck! Rome, again? They’re only willing to go another round with Rome because of Cleopatra, only willing to embrace the ghosts this will stir up because they feel they owe it to a friend.

So, of course they’re going to do this. Only, it’s no longer about vengeance, at least not the white fury that once burned hot in Xena’s veins. This is different. Xena’s ire still seethes, but she doesn’t plan to wield it like a mighty sword, rather she’ll channel it with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel poised to excise a tumour, deliberate and clinical. The plotting is easy - Xena has a library of schemes stored away in the vast reserves of her grey matter - but made easier by the fact that she knows Caesar’s playbook so intimately. The man may be dead but he lives on in Rome and the hearts of all the faithful men who love her - proud and predictable. Puppets whose strings she knows she can deftly manoeuvre.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            The problem is that Xena’s too comfortable in her self-assuredness. Her plan and her assumptions of how Roman strongmen operate and her ability to manage everything is founded on her understanding of Caesar. And none of these men are the next Caesar.  And it’s a problem, because this was supposed to be a quick and straightforward trip up the Nile to Memphis to do a little housekeeping on behalf of a friend and it’s been complicated by the fact that her pawns are not being cooperative.

This entire endeavour is not what she was expecting, Antony is not at all what she was expecting. He’s disarmingly handsome and charming, like many of Rome’s great strongmen, and their chemistry is electric - a bonus when you’re really trying to sell your part in a seduction play - but she realizes a little too late that the game she plays with him is not the one she had planned on. It’s actually much more dangerous.

And, I get that many fans believe Xena’s sexual attraction to Marc Antony is meant to telegraph an underlying romantic attraction as well. That as their physical encounters become more intimate and intense, so too must Xena’s feelings for him. And it’s easy to read it this way because Gabrielle’s own jealousy seems to reinforce the very idea, and Xena, herself, looks increasingly unsettled after each interaction. But I think it’s too simplistic an answer. Xena’s unease about Antony is growing because her plan has been frustrated by unforeseen hurdles, none of which include her falling in love with him.  And Xena is frustrated in return.

We totally see this play out in Xena’s treatment of Gabrielle. She is curt and cool and dismissive (at least until their balcony talk), especially after Gabrielle puts a spectacular halt to Xena’s picnic with Marc Antony. But Xena’s distance here is not because she’s being defensive (at Gabrielle’s continued suggestions that she’s lost the plot), or because she’s angry for the interruption (ok, I’m sure there’s a very base part of Xena that *was* disappointed), or because she’s hurt (how could Gabrielle not have faith in her?). It may come across that way, but, really, Xena’s just acting out her frustrations.

Because this whole situation with Marc Antony, if a little intriguing at first, is irritating. And Xena’s frustrated. On many levels. The most obvious, and least surprising, being that Antony’s attentions have left her itchy and it’s distracting. And not because the chemistry between them has set off a chain reaction of romantic feelings for him - Xena is not spending her free time daydreaming about the man behind the General. It’s simply because there’s a kind of fire in her veins now that she wasn’t expecting to deal with this time out and it has the tendency to keep her on edge. And it’s not that she can’t handle it - spontaneous combustion is sometimes an occupational hazard when she’s playing at desire - it’s just that this particular element was not part of her plan.

That’s the real frustration: Xena’s not used to her plans being stymied. Her opening move - rolling herself, naked and chained, out from a carpet - though, brazen, should have been the perfect lure, should have painted her Cleopatra as an easy, if not unwilling, target for Antony’s ambitions. Because all Roman strongmen are the same: pretty boys with pretty words and pretty promises and pretty predictable tastes for cunning and seduction that they weaponize for the glory of Rome; heartless but for their love of res publica.

And so, this exact play is one Xena is confident any ambitious Roman would pounce on - remember: she knows their playbook, was once herself on the near-losing end of such a gambit, back when she was still a little naive and the right words could soften her heart; before her legs and her psyche endured the full force of Rome’s wrath. Except Antony doesn’t take the bait, like she expects, and it catches Xena flat-footed, a position she rarely finds herself in and one she isn’t particularly fond of. And so now she finds herself having to regroup and change tactics on the fly, which is fine - she’s used to that too - it’s just that her forward momentum is frustrated by the fact that she can’t get a good read on Marc Antony, doesn’t quite know his angle. He’s an unknown and unpredictable variable in a plot that already has a lot of moving parts and it introduces just the tiniest element of doubt into the equation.

Which is why it doesn’t help that Gabrielle is dubious of Xena’s motivations surrounding Antony. Not that Xena blames her for her concerns. She knows they aren’t really meant to provoke - that they come from a place of genuine anxiety, born from Gabrielle’s intimate understanding of Xena’s unhappy past with both bad-boy types and the ravages of Rome. Knows that Gabrielle, whose heart has traced all the scars of that past and let her love be a salve, is steadfast in her belief in Xena, even when the wheels are falling off. But Gabrielle’s questions do provoke. They pique Xena’s frustrations. It leaves her feeling cagey - like her back is up - and she hates it because it means she’s dangerously close to being on the defensive.

And really, by the time Marc Antony invites her to meet him under the pyramids, Xena is running out of options. Her back isn’t just up, it feels dangerously close to being backed up against a wall. She’s only playing this game because she’s confident she’ll win - that’s why she led with such a shameless opening bid, presenting herself to Antony as she did - but with each round Antony’ coyishness has forced her to up the ante while she waits for him to play his hand. Once upon a time she might have enjoyed and encouraged this slow, deliberate back-and-forth - would have been willing to play it out until she was out of chips (and her clothes) - but she no longer has the patience. Not that she’s entirely immune now to the thrill of what they’re doing - Xena has always enjoyed the hunt and then playing with her food - it’s just that she needs him to reveal his hand before he can call her bluff because there aren’t anymore chips to spare and she has too much on the line to go all in.

But Xena’s emotional conflict isn’t just being driven by her frustrations with the way her plan is playing out - it’s priming the engine, to be sure - there are other feelings at work here too. And chief among them is a deep and growing unease with the roles she and Gabrielle have cast themselves in and the very real consequences that will come from their interference. It doesn’t sit well with Xena, the way they’re toying with the futures of Egypt and Rome - as if they are just prizes to be won and Brutus, Antony and Octavius are the game pieces that need to be maneuvered around the board until a winner appears. As if there aren’t millions of lives at stake. She hates it. Hates that she has been somehow cast above it all, to dabble, like some unworthy god, in the lives of so many, and yet also stuck in the thick of it, an unwitting pawn herself.

And the longer Xena’s game is in play, the murkier everything becomes. What seems like a straightforward plan on paper, is actually a mess of competing interests, each as cold and ruthless as the next. And right at the heart of it all: Xena (and Gabrielle too), judge, jury & executioner. Because despite her business-like approach when they arrived in Egypt, Xena’s ability to remain detached and objective is under pressure, especially as all the players in her game reveal themselves and their motivations resolve into finer focus.

And there’s something about Marc Antony. He’s truly unnerved Xena. Because he didn’t play by her rules, the rules she owed to Rome - and he, a Roman no less. Maybe there would have been a time in her past when this would have endeared him to her, but now it’s left her uneasy. He needles at her resolve, the confidence she has in her plan. There’s a part of her that starts to wonder if she’s mis-read him completely, and that’s the start of a slippery slope into thinking she has mis-read this entire situation. And she doesn’t have the time for back-sliding.

But the problem is this: no matter how she looks at it there’s no clear answer, only devastating consequences if she’s wrong. For herself, for the lives she’s playing with, and probably for most of the known world. Because Rome and her strongmen will stop at nothing to take it all. And that thought never leaves her. Rome is a constant drum beat in her mind: Rome Rome Rome. Xena knows what Rome is capable of, what these three men jockeying for her power are capable of, even if Xena doesn’t know *them*. It echoes in her mind every time one of them is before her - even as Marc Antony’s kisses leave behind a fever in her blood - Rome Rome Rome.

And while her mind whirls constantly, turning over strategy and tactics, she’s tried to keep her heart mostly out of this affair. Left it unburdened by the machinations of statecraft and violent political intrigue. Except for a dull ache - when she thinks about Eve downriver in Alexandria, or when her eye catches Gabrielle in an unguarded moment - Xena could almost believe the desert sun had turned her heart to dust. Almost. Except that ache is there and, like her frustration and unease, it’s been growing more persistent.

Because Xena has more than herself to consider now. Sure, she’s spent the last five years dedicated to preserving the greater good - whether fighting for her closest friends or the nameless, faceless masses - but it’s different now, she’s different, and not just because she has a daughter who needs her to come home. She has Gabrielle too. They have a little family. And even though Xena has loved Gabrielle for years, she feels fiercely protective of Gabrielle’s heart and love now, in a way she’s never felt before, with anyone. But then, maybe it’s not surprising: they did battle demons in hell for each other’s soul. That sort of thing changes everything.

And Xena can see how this is affecting Gabrielle, even if she doesn’t say it out loud. Remembers the pierce of iron through the flesh of Gabrielle’s hands as surely as she remembers it through her own. Rome has robbed them both and Xena sees the weight of it in Gabrielle’s gaze. Sees, too, the way Gabrielle traps her bottom lip in her teeth as Xena smiles seductively at Antony. Watches the flush creep across Gabrielle’s pale skin when Antony’s kisses become more emboldened. Catches the dangerous flash in Gabrielle’s green eyes. The one that hasn’t gone away since they arrived in Egypt. Xena sees and it makes her heart lurch. To watch her beloved watch her take delight in the charms of another. And to know the sight of it is a white hot grip on Gabrielle’s heart. Xena feels the burning clench around hers too.

And this is the Xena we see when she meets Marc Antony under the pyramids. Frustrated and uneasy, heart aching. Tired. Tired of this game and her role in it. Tired of Rome, but mostly tired of all the horrible things that happen by her hand because of Rome. And then there is Marc Antony waiting for her. Disarmingly handsome and charming, unnerving in his refusal to play into her hands, a Roman above all: a pretty boy with pretty words and pretty promises. And like all Romans, she expects the promises to be lies. Except, there’s something in the way he’s played his hand, the way he’s held back all this time, that tells her there might be truth in his words when he tells her he wants her love.

She can sense his confession even before the words are out. Maybe on some level she always knew, had seen the inevitability of this moment even as she refused to believe in the possibility. But his words pierce the haze that has kept her from seeing her own folly. And it’s like lightning in a bottle. The way every frayed nerve snaps and jumps and arcs all at once - the rain of sparks illuminating everything that had left her mind and heart unsettled - in an instant of sudden, total understanding. It steals her breath and slices at her heart, this clear and unbearable realization. What she’s done and what she still has to do to bring this absurd game to a close.  

See, she’s made a terrible miscalculation. Because in her mind Roman brutes are heartless. Capable of loving only Rome. And her seduction of Marc Antony was only ever meant to be a power play. How could it be anything more? She had weaponized lust and sex in the past to get the things she wanted, this was to be no different. Except that it was. And her hubris - her prideful overconfidence in her infallible, little plan, coupled with her resolute belief that all Roman men are Caesar at their core - has led her to overplay her hand. Not that she won’t still find a way to win. It’s just the cost will be much higher than she could have anticipated.

Because she has unwittingly weaponized Marc Antony’s affection for her and now she is going to have to deliberately use it against him. It is devastating. To see his chest bared to her so willingly, and to know that she must flay his heart with a knife of his own making. It shakes her resolve. It brings tears to her eyes.

But of course it brings tears to her eyes. She has done the unthinkable: she herself has become Caesar. The thing she hated most. The man who won her trust and her love and then betrayed her. Cold and hard and heartless. Brutal and ruthless and willingly so. In this moment she is Caesar. And soon she will become Rome, sacrificing another man, who might yet have been good, in the name of her unrequited love.

This moment under the pyramids is so important. Everything hangs on this declaration from Marc Antony, on Xena’s tears. I know people see it as confirmation of Xena’s feelings for him - and she has feelings to be sure - but they’re not romantic. Xena’s emotional reaction, and the genuine unease she wears thereafter do not hinge on her being in love with him. Xena’s humanity is enough to soften both her heart and her regard for Antony in this moment. Her compassion and regret are not dependent on attraction or attachment. And so the story doesn’t need to frame her tears for Marc Antony as a lover’s heartbreak, because her heart was always going to break for him, as it breaks for herself and Gabrielle and the ruin left in their wake.

And there will be ruin. Xena is certain of it. Although, for a moment, she might have held a glimmer of hope for Antony. This Roman who’s willing to give up his army for love. For love. Not that she wants what he’s offering. She just wants to believe he could be different. Not for her. For Rome. But then his sword is hilt deep in the belly of one of Brutus’ men and then slicing through the throat of another. And Xena knows - even as she and Gabrielle dance around the subject hours later, bathed in moonlight and disquiet - that any hope for him is misplaced. Knows exactly what he will do with Brutus’ army and Octavius if he prevails. Is keenly aware of what awaits if he learns of her deception and is allowed to live.

Because once upon a time she was the one who trusted and loved and was betrayed and lived. And thousands paid the price at the end of her sword for Caesar’s treachery. Xena can’t even imagine what Marc Antony, favoured son of Rome, might do. Can’t risk the chance. So he must pay the price at the end of her sword too. Xena wishes it weren’t so, tries to avoid the fight that will take his life - because now that she’s seen the humanity in her enemy she wants no further part in this madness she’s helped to orchestrate - only she doesn’t have a choice now. Alea iacta est - the die is cast, and her blade and her betrayal find Antony’s heart all the same. And when the end comes, there’s Xena, soaked in blood and rain and tears, in the middle of this fucking mess, the dead and wounded scattered about her. She can’t escape the truth of it then: she did this.

And it’s this! All of this - the many layers of trauma in need of reckoning and Xena’s tangled heart, twisted further by the part she is forced to play in Egypt and the goddamn fucking senselessness of it all - that carries the emotional weight of the episode. Who needs a Boyfriend of the Week when there’s already all this angst?

And, ok, I hear you say: Pattie, you’ve made some valid points about Xena’s state of mind, but why can’t Xena’s emotional and moral conflict be born from this fraught personal history AND from the fact that she *was* falling in love with Antony? Wouldn’t that make it an EVEN MORE dramatic and powerful story? Because she was specifically falling in love with a ROMAN GENERAL, the very epitome of the thing she has spent most of her adult life hating?

I would like to agree with you, dear skeptical reader, but the simple truth is that there isn’t room for both in *this* story. The reality is this: a 44-minute-long, action-focused show like XWP just doesn’t always have a lot of extra time to linger on the emotional beats. And this episode, in particular, already so busy with all the palace and political intrigue, has even less. So much of what we’re able to read of Xena’s psychological state - and *why* it’s so deeply fraught - doesn’t even come from this episode. It relies on past emotional beats to inform our understanding of her behaviour. (And, I don’t know, perhaps this is why a casual viewer might pass off Xena’s and Marc Antony’s interplay as romantic - because most of the horrible things that have happened to Xena by Roman hands are left unsaid, and surely, if we’d been reminded of them we would never accept that Xena would fall in love with a golden boy of the empire.)

As it is, there’s barely space for any kind of meditation on how either Xena or Gabrielle are feeling about the roles they are being forced to play and the seemingly callous and ruthless tactics they increasingly use to do so, let alone a tenuous romance. And the former is what this episode should be actively engaging with: the moral ambiguity that has been driving season five and will continue on through the end of the series.  

Further complicating things with a love story, doesn’t make the episode more dramatic, it just takes up emotional bandwidth that could be better served elsewhere. Because, yes, Marc Antony is the epitome of the thing Xena has spent more than a decade hating! Xena’s history with Caesar and Rome (and everything they both stand for) is richly layered and devastating. It cannot be erased or ignored. To suggest that she is capable of falling in love with Antony (and to ask us to then believe it) without also deliberately exploring the tension inherent in that act is obtuse.

Those kinds of emotional beats need room to fucking breathe. And the episode doesn’t do this because there’s just too much happening. It tries - in broad, moody strokes - to capture the tenor of Xena’s emotional landscape, and it succeeds in wrapping us up in the same angst that drapes Xena, but the source is nebulous. Her haunted looks and tears - under the sphinx and when her sword finds Antony’s belly - can only telegraph so much, especially when we have been given very little reason to feel invested in her supposed affection towards him.

And here’s where we finally touch on Xena’s checkered romantic history - and her self-proclaimed soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools (10 points to Ravenclaw for your patience) - because I’m sure you’re about to suggest that Marc Antony’s air of a Bad Boy is itself cause enough to garner Xena’s affection. Powerful, disarmingly handsome, and charming? Check, check, check. Capable with his ‘sword’? Bonus: super check. But just because her past is littered with dysfunctional relationships and Bad Boys - though I’m sure not all were bad, and some were definitely women - doesn’t mean she’s interested in repeating her mistakes. The Xena of old is vastly different from the one we know by season five, even if there are parts of her that are very much the same.

The principal driving force in her early adult life and formative romantic relationships was lust. It ruled over every part of her. Lust for: power and for violence and for blood and for riches and for infamy, and, of course, for sexual gratification. And so, she sought out partners - themselves driven by the same hunger - who could satisfy all of her desires, not just her (very) carnal appetite. She fell hard and fast and burned white hot until something, or someone, else came along and made her feel even more incandescent. In those early days, Xena wasn’t looking for *love*, she was looking for a good time.

Now, that’s not to say Xena’s past romantic entanglements were frivolous or lacking in genuine sentiment. At the very least, I suspect many were sustained by the warm affection that comes naturally from the intimacy of sharing your life with someone, whether they’re riding into battle alongside you or just warming your bed over a long winter. Nor is it meant to be dismissive of whatever fondness she felt for her lovers. Because: not all love looks the same. There are different kinds of love and different ways to love.  

For Xena, though, whose heart had been so thoroughly and devastatingly mangled by Caesar’s betrayal, love was immaterial. At best, it was the unintended, if pleasurable, byproduct of a mutually beneficial arrangement. At worst it was a weakness that her enemies could exploit. Mostly, it was just a silly notion to scoff at. And the feeling Xena would come to associate with love - whether she acknowledged it as such, or not - was informed by both the dynamics of her relationships with Bad Boys and her own dark, irrepressible designs. It was selfish, and often cruel. Grounded in hot blooded impulses and savage desire, rather than growing out of an honest and patient connection.

And it became so thoroughly ingrained in her psyche. It was her overriding view of love. Even after she came to recognize how different love could be - and look and feel - once it was no longer centred in selfishness, when it was open and giving and kind, it was a struggle for Xena to undo her conditioning, to rewrite her love language. Because: first, she had to accept that she was worthy of this new kind of love, and then she had to actually accept it once it was offered.

But, old habits die hard, even for Xena, and I’m sure there were times - when she was just beginning to reframe how she viewed love and was learning how to reopen her heart - that she slipped back into her outmoded ways of thinking. Conflating lust with something else; allowing herself to be tempted by dalliances with partners who stoked her selfish desires, instead of tempering them. And maybe if Xena had crossed paths with Marc Antony then - back at the beginning of the series when her history with Rome was still messy but not nearly as tortuous as it is by the end of season five (you know after Britannia and its fallout which was the beginning of The Rift, and the deaths of Crassus and Ephiny and Pompy and the countless others who were the collateral damage surrounding those events, and, of course, Xena’s & Gabrielle’s own death on the cross) - I’d be willing to believe that she could love him.

Because, at one time Xena might have been interested in a man like Antony, might have been able to look past the Roman tunic and pursued him, taken in by his magnetism and allure. But by this point in the series Xena just isn’t interested, and not because her duplicity has made it impossible for her to be, but because by now her entire understanding of love - of being loved and giving love and nurturing it and making room for it to grow - has fundamentally changed. It’s been re-centred in selflessness, and everything that Marc Antony represents is antithetical to this new appreciation.

And I get that there’s an argument in here somewhere, that suggests Xena’s new approach to love might have softened her heart in such a way that she’s both able and willing to see the man behind the General, and be open to loving him too. But I would argue that the very things, the very people, whose love has transformed Xena’s heart are also the very things that would stop her from ever letting her heart go there. It’s not just that her point of reference on love has changed, it’s that she’s had years now of lived experience to break that cognitive dissonance between her attitude - knowing the kind of love she wants, the kind of love that’s *good* for her - and her behaviour - choosing that reaffirming, selfless love instead of the tempestuous, selfish one. She’s not blind to her past weaknesses, she knows exactly the sort of temptation Marc Antony offers - as surely as Gabrielle does the moment she lays eyes on him - but recognizing it is not akin to considering it. Because: Xena’s already found the love she needs and wants (and knows she’s earned and deserves).

Ok, but what of Xena’s admission on the balcony, when she cops to having a soft spot for Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools? I think it’s less about admitting (to herself as much as Gabrielle) that she’s developed romantic feelings for Marc Antony, as it is about Xena acknowledging a certain sort of fondness she feels for these ‘Bad Boys’. A fondness that’s born from a mutual understanding. Because: I think Xena sees herself in these men - at least an earlier version of herself - when she was ‘bad’ and foolhardy at love, and her heart tugs at the memory of it. Some curious mix of nostalgia and empathy, that softens her regard for them.

And she certainly sees herself in Marc Antony. The parallels between her story with Caesar and the story she’s now playing out with Antony are unavoidable, and if she’s cast herself as Caesar in this shadow play then Marc Antony is her younger self. Of course she would have a soft spot for him, she knows how this story ends. Knows, specifically, what it’s like to be willing to give your trust and your love only to be betrayed in return. And, of course, it’s made only more complicated with the knowledge that she’s the one who will ultimately be his ruin.

So, finally, exhausted and exasperated and, like 7,000 words into this, I hear you ask: what does it really matter? Xena doesn’t choose Marc Antony in the end, so what does it matter if it was lust or love or guilt or a fucking mid-life crisis that was driving her in this episode? Well, dear, patient reader: it matters because Gabrielle deserves better (THIS IS A BOLD STATEMENT, I KNOW, AND IT’S NOT AN INDICTMENT ON XENA’S CHARACTER EITHER, IT’S JUST THAT I FEEL VERY PROTECTIVE OF GABRIELLE’S HEART, OK! AND THE ONE THING THIS EPISODE DOES IS GIVE GABRIELLE THOSE LITTLE BEATS WHERE WE LINGER ON HER VISIBLE REACTIONS TO XENA’S TETE A TETE WITH ANTONY AND SHE’S CLEARLY JEALOUS AND HURT AND WORRIED AND SO, LET’S NOT LOSE SIGHT OF THE FACT THAT HER EMOTIONAL STAKES ARE ALSO INCREDIBLY HIGH IN THIS EPISODE, NOT JUST BECAUSE HER LIFE PARTNER IS SEDUCING SOME DUDE, BUT ALSO BECAUSE THE LEVELS OF BRUTALITY SHE’S INCREASINGLY HAVING TO EMPLOY ARE ALARMING. AND SO, SOMEONE IN THE WRITER’S ROOM WAS THINKING ABOUT THIS WHEN THEY WERE OUTLINING THE STORY - UNDERSTANDING THAT THERE’S AN UNDERCURRENT IN XENA’S & GABRIELLE’S RELATIONSHIP THAT WOULD MAKE SEEING XENA WITH ANTONY UNCOMFORTABLE, BUT THEN NOT ALSO RECOGNIZING THAT THAT SAME UNDERCURRENT WOULD MAKE IT EQUALLY UNCOMFORTABLE FOR XENA. AND IT’S JUST LIKE: TEAM, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO DO THAT TO GABRIELLE? HER HEART MUST HAVE BEEN IN A TERRIBLE STATE. AND WHY DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE XENA COMPLICIT IN THIS?)

But, seriously, I’ve spent all this time diving deep into this episode and the ways it comes up short and why, and while I’ve alluded to it, I’ve mostly avoided the elephant in the room.

We need to talk about Gabrielle.

Because: Gabrielle is at the heart of why a romance between Xena and Marc Antony feels contrived and unconvincing. At this point in the show, it’s clear Xena & Gabrielle are fully and completely committed to each other (and, yes, I know that doesn’t necessarily preclude either of them from also seeking romantic or sexual partners elsewhere... I just don’t think they’re the sharing types, but I DIGRESS) - I mean, we *just* had ‘Kindred Spirits’ where they were nesting and talking about domestic bliss and privately teasing each other about their sex life in the most blatant way possible and failing miserably at breaking up but winning at being cute and married and adoringly in love. And I think it’s important to acknowledge the weight of Xena’s decision to very clearly have Gabrielle as her *life* partner - because implicit in the act of choosing to commit yourself to another person is a vow of fidelity, a bond that would be near-holy to Xena, whose word means everything.

But more to the point: Xena loves Gabrielle and Gabrielle loves Xena, and their love has been the beating heart of this show from the beginning. Gabrielle’s care and tenderness has been transformative - everything that Xena has come to understand about love, everything that she does to honour and protect it, is because of Gabrielle and the heart she’s so selflessly given of. And it’s this love story - and how the show has framed its slow and beautiful unravelling - that becomes the bench mark, the gold standard, for how all other love stories in this universe should be viewed, for how Xena, herself, now views love.

So, I guess what I’ve been saying all along is this: Xena can’t possibly be falling in love with Marc Antony because she’s already in love. Deeply, profoundly, bound-for-all-eternity in love. And no one, in this life (or any other, let’s be real) will ever compare. Not pretty boys with pretty words and pretty promises. Not Bad Boys Who Love Like Fools. Not even a god himself. There is only Gabrielle.

[dreamdropxoxo]

If I can’t have you

Damen couldn‘t imagine one single reason for why Pallas sat in the chair across from his desk, looking as if he had to tell him someone died. He knew Laurent was alright, had actually just seen him for lunch, and that was the last assignment Pallas had. He was now here to report on anything unusual and that was just procedure before Damen went on his afternoon shift to Laurent‘s.

Pallas had spent the last week on a business trip with Laurent, who was freshly appointed CEO to the tech company of his mother’s family at just 21. Normally, Makedon took this post but the older man was on vacation and Pallas had volunteered. His friendship with Laurent was certainly a strong incentive for that decision. But also the fact that Lazar was the other bodyguard to accompany them.

Damen had visited Laurent the day after their arrival at the manor and Pallas had taken over the duty of reporting so that Lazar, who had had the night shifts, could go home and sleep.

"What is it, Pallas?“ Damen put whole focus now on his employee. Pallas was one of his favorites to be honest and he really saw no reason why the young man should be so anxious. "Did Lazar do something?“

That had to be the explanation, it was the only one that made sense at least in Damen’s opinion.

"You can‘t really... say that.“ Pallas stuttered while avoiding his eye.

No surprise there. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Laurent always requested Lazar to accompany him for his business trips. The two of them were both mischievous and Lazar encouraged Laurent to behavior that no other bodyguard would have even overlooked much less encouraged.

If he didn’t do such an excellent job Damen would have fired him years ago, before Laurent came even close to off-age.

"Well?“ He clearly needed to get Pallas to talk.

"He assured me that it was absolutely save. You don‘t have to be angry at either of them.“

Now Damen felt the trepidation rise. If Pallas was worried that he might get angry, it was absolutely clear that Laurent was somehow involved.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while he drummed the end of his pen on his desk. "What did they do?“

"Well, apparently Laurent has an acquaintance in Ios I didn’t know about. Lazar obviously did and had already done all the background checks on the guy.“

"Yes. And? That’s common procedure.“ Damen didn’t see the point. Laurent was allowed to meet his friends if they were properly checked by one of his employees and apparently Lazar had done the job.

"They spent a lot of time together.“ Pallas couldn’t look him in the eyes. He twisted his fingers in his lap and chewed on his bottom lip.

Damen’s eyebrows drew together. "And? That‘s hardly a problem.“

"It was a lot of time at night.“

Damen nodded slowly. He had already suspected because Lazar had the night shifts and if Pallas was so upset about it, it was clear that it hadn‘t happened under his watch.

"Yes. I suspected. Did they venture in the clubs that you are so anxious to tell me?“ He tried to encourage Pallas but it obviously had the opposite effect. The man threw him a distressed look with something like unwilling amusement mixed in it.

"No, they didn‘t leave Laurent‘s hotel room at all.“

"I don‘t see why that is a prob-,“ he trailed off. The realization spread through him like ice. He felt how his hands went numb.

The only thought in his head reverberated like an echo. 'He slept with Laurent.‘

He needed to force himself to breath. The pressure on his chest threatened to choke him.

Read more here. https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878420