#we’ll see if I get past the dancing plague again before putting it aside

[impossible-rat-babies]

I really should compile dialogue options in game that are painfully eyrie

[wandas-sunshine]

A Soldier’s Spring - Chapter 3

Summary: She was one of Hydra’s secret weapons; a female winter soldier. And Bucky can’t let her go through what he did alone. everything is coming back to her, and he’s the only one that can help her become human again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, swearing, mention of gunshot wounds

Word Count: 3867

Previously on A Soldier’s Spring | Series Masterlist

Eventually, (Y/N) had calmed herself down from her little panic attack. She knew she didn’t have time for reckless emotion. She stashed her weapons under the bed, and managed to wash some of the blood out of her clothes. She had even gotten up and taken a shower. She couldn’t remember the last time she had bathed. Not that she remembered much of anything. By the time she stepped out, the water had gone ice cold and she’d nearly scrubbed her skin raw in an attempt to wash away any trace of her past, of the awful things she had done.

She didn’t manage more than a few hours of sleep, mostly just laying awake and listening to the quiet. Her thoughts weren’t so unbearably loud anymore, but they were more consistent than she was used to. They started to get this way after a particularly long mission she thought. It was strange, like her head was full for the first time. Her memories on the other hand, there was hardly anything there apart from the past day or so. Her memories on the other hand were essentially nonexistent beyond the past day or so. Ever since she had been given her mission. Trying to think beyond that just made her head throb.

Come morning, she hauled herself out of bed and smoothed her hair out. Her mostly dry clothes were pulled back on. She kneeled beside the bed and retrieved some of the weapons from underneath it. She had to go out, so going unnoticed was going to be key. Too many weapons and it would be a dead giveaway.

She reloaded her guns, tucking one into the holster at her hip, another was tucked safely into her waistband. She carefully slipped three knives into each of her boots, and strapped her dozen throwing knives into place around her thighs. That would have to do. She slid her room key securely into her pocket and hung the do not disturb sign on the door.

She needed a plan, a proper one. Needed to figure out where the hell she was, get something into her stomach, maybe score some cash if she was lucky. Not that she got lucky very often.

She flipped her hood up and slipped out of her motel room. She kept her head low, her eyes constantly scanning for any sign of danger. As she made it closer to the center of town, the streets grew unreasonably crowded. It had her on edge. Hydra could be hidden anywhere in the massive sea of people.

It was all so strange. Everyone was going about their lives as if the entire world wasn’t shaking and crumbling to the ground around her. (Y/N) wondered what it would be like to go through life completely oblivious to everything awful going on right under her nose. To be one of those girls walking down the street with a boy, just laughing, and flirting, and not worrying about the next time that she would have to fight for her life. She figured it was nice.

Her goals were repeated in her head, a sort of mantra. Anything to keep her focused as she weaved through the crowd. She caught bits of conversations here and there in a language that felt oddly familiar even though she couldn’t make out the words. Her frustration grew more and more. She was never going to get somewhere safe. Maybe she could find a city name, maybe even a map. She just needed a starting point.

Half an hour had passed, and (Y/N) was skittish to say the least. She had never planned to stay out in the open for so long. But between her unfamiliar surroundings and the unexpected crowd, she couldn’t move at a particularly good pace. Eventually, she had followed the current of people to an outdoor market.

She did her best to blend in with the bustling crowd, following the flow from booth to booth. She was a good thief, it had been engraved into her brain right alongside the killing. She had managed to pocket a couple pieces of jerky, an orange. She’d even gotten a wallet, though it was almost entirely empty. She was positive she was in the clear as she slipped a fresh roll into her jacket.

“I’m sorry, honey? You have to pay for that.” A woman’s sweet voice called to (Y/N) through a thick accent. She froze in her tracks, eyes flickering around for the best way out of the situation. She wasn’t thinking straight, she was being greedy. She had enough food. But the warm, familiar scent had been too much for her to resist.

“I’m so sorry,” She dropped her gaze from the middle aged woman who had spotted her. “Please understand, I’m sorry.”

With those words, she turned on her heel and bolted back the way she had come. She ran as quickly as possible through the crowd. There was a bit of a ruckus behind her, shouting and arguing. She could practically feel someone chasing her. Her nerves were on fire, and her instincts were fighting to take over. She had to hold back from shoving people out of her way and simply sprinting full speed. But she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She didn’t dare look back at her pursuer for fear of seeing the familiar face of one of her handlers.

She came skidding to a stop as a firm hand clamped around her arm. Her eyes flashed with unbridled danger, a first warning not to test her. She took a step away from the stranger, twisting away from him like he’d burned her.

“Don’t touch me.” She growled, her body language reminiscent of a cornered animal. Her brain screamed for her to get out at any cost, to just get away from it before things got worse.

“You need to give back what you stole, or pay for it.” The man demanded with a tone dripping with authority that did nothing to ease her fight or flight instinct. She grit her teeth.

“Calm down, (Y/N).” The voice cut through, but she hardly processed it.

“I can’t do that.” She stated, eyes flicking over faces as the crowd grew around them. Attention was being drawn to her, and that was the very last thing she needed. “Please don’t do this. Just let me go.”

She backed up as far as she could, but the flow of the crowd had ground to a halt. Her (y/e/c) eyes went wide and wild, stormy with terror.

Then his hands were on her again, and the world felt like it was imploding. The air was sucked from her lungs, her body burned like every atom had been dipped into acid. She released an animalistic snarl and her free hand gripped his forearm with such strength she was sure it would leave a bruise in the shape of her hand. She pulled it towards her, using his grip on her for leverage until she felt the bone snap under her enhanced strength. The man screamed in agony, but she didn’t even flinch. She aimed a jab at his ribs without a care for the damage she dealt. As he crumpled to the ground, she stared at her hands. What had she just done?

People had their phones out, all trained on (Y/N). She turned again and pushed her way through the horde of curious strangers. Law enforcement would be on their way, and she feared that those videos would have her dragged kicking and screaming back to her cage. She didn’t know if she was headed towards safety anymore, but she had to run somewhere.

The ride in from Wakanda was unbelievably nice. T’Challa had sent Shuri and a handful of the Dora Milaje with Bucky. The idea was that it would be easier to sneak him into a country where he was a wanted criminal if he was smuggled in by a visiting royal on business. He had no reason to argue.

He’d tried catching up on some sleep, and writing in his journal, but nothing was working. His mind was already preoccupied. Thoughts of the mission were plaguing him, making it virtually impossible to focus on anything else. He was terrified to be in the field again. He hadn’t been put under that sort of pressure since he’d been taken into Wakanda. Something in him worried about being around her, that piece of his past, would trigger something deeper in his mind. If he turned back into that...that killing machine, there was no guarantee that his friends would stand a chance. Everything they had brought down upon themselves would be for nothing. But more than anything, he knew that he needed to try and help. For Steve, of course. And for her.

“We’re here.” One of the Wakandan warriors announced, and Bucky blinked himself back into reality. They’d pulled up to what almost looked like an apartment complex from the outside. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but that rundown building wasn’t it. Steve had told him that Tony had helped fix up their little compound, but that didn’t seem like it was up to Stark’s standards.

He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up to obscure his face, and climbed out of the vehicle they’d all been piled into. He grabbed the two bags he had brought, and Shuri gave him a reassuring smile as if she could read his mind. Who knew, maybe she could.

“Good luck, sergeant. Let us know when you’re ready and we’ll bring you home.” She told him. A smile danced on his lips for a millisecond. Wakanda really had become like his home, and they all had welcomed him like long lost family.

“Thank you.” He nodded a tiny goodbye, and headed for the door. The frosted glass door swung open easily under Bucky’s touch. He stepped inside and jumped a bit at the sound of a chipper female voice.

“Welcome home, Sergeant Barnes. I’m F.R.I.D.A.Y.” She spoke. Stark had definitely helped with this place. “I’ve alerted Captain Rogers of your arrival.”

Bucky stepped a bit farther into the wide open lobby. The inside of the building was nice, much nicer than the outside let on. It was chic, sophisticated. It didn’t feel particularly homey aside from the table that had been set up with various books, papers, and other possessions scattered about it. The walls were a pale blue, matched to a dark grey tile. It reminded him of Stark and nothing of Steve.

Before he bothered analyzing any more of his surroundings, the elevator doors opposite him dinged open. Steve stepped out with a wide smile. He looked different, nothing like the Steve that Bucky was so used to. His hair was longer now, and not nearly as neat. His beard wasn’t shaved off, he’d let it get scruffy, and it suited him. A few strides, and the two men met in the middle of the room. Steve pulled him into a bruising hug that Bucky returned.

“It’s good to have you back, Buck.” Steve stepped back and gave his best friend a firm pat on the shoulder.

“It’s good to be back for a while.” Bucky replied. 

“Come on, let me show you around the place.” Steve nodded for Bucky to follow him. He hiked his bags back up onto his shoulder and did just that. Steve showed him the living area complete with a massive tv and every gaming system he’d ever heard of. It even had a pool table. Then he was shown the training gym, the room they’d dedicated to medical treatment, and the kitchen. Steve walked him through the upper floors, pointing out everyone's rooms. Music came from behind Sam’s door. Nat and Wanda were talking on Wanda’s bed when the two men peeked in. Even Clint had his own room in case he came around.

“Mine’s at the end of the hall. We’re the only ones staying up here right now.” Steve announced as they stopped at the room he’d saved for Bucky. “So if you need anything you can always come find me.”

Bucky didn’t miss the worry in his best friend’s voice. He’d gotten awfully good at picking it up recently. He hated it. Hated just how fragile it made him feel. Everyone treated him like he was going to fall apart at any moment. He hoped he wouldn’t treat her that way. Assuming they got to her at all.

“Relax, punk. I’ll be fine.” Steve did relax, even just a little bit. Bucky punched his friend’s arm. “I’m just gonna unpack and settle in. Probably try to catch up on my sleep.”

Steve nodded his approval and promised to wake him up in time to eat. Then, for the first time since he’d woken up that morning, Bucky was alone with his thoughts. He settled his things into his room. He tried to make it feel more like his hut in Wakanda. He put his clothes away, laid his journal and his phone on the stand by his bed. He laid down in the plush bed Tony had provided. But his damned head wouldn’t quiet down.

He knew exactly what she was going through. It was agony. The fear, the emptiness. He wanted to set her free. When he finally escaped their grasp, he had Steve. He didn’t think this girl had anyone, and he would never forgive himself if he let her go through it all by herself. He was the only person who could understand.

(Y/N) was absolutely panicked as she headed back to the safety of her motel room. She hoped that maybe they wouldn’t track her there. It was stupid, immature even. She hadn’t made it halfway back by the time the sea of people began parting for several men in uniforms — she counted five of them. Her heart was racing, her throat was getting tight. Her mind felt cloudy, like every piece of her was fighting against itself.

“(Y/N), you need to stay calm. Don’t let them take you over again.” The voice pleaded with her. She pressed a hand to her head and took a deep breath. It wasn’t working, she wasn’t calming down. Her brain was going fuzzy around the edges, all of her thoughts trying to turn to static. “Stay with me.”

“Mom,” (Y/N) whimpered...to herself? To the voice? It was fading into the static, slipping through her fingers. It was so quiet now. It was being taken, and she needed it back, she needed her mommy.

They were closing in now, and she knew she was a goner. Like she was teetering at the edge of a cliff just waiting for the final push. She was waiting for the final push back into the bloodred princess.

“Please get back.” She pleaded desperately with the officers. The voice that came out hardly sounded like her. It sounded like that broken, terrified 17 year old that Hydra had trapped inside herself. She was scared, she could feel her training fighting to take over and mute her emotions. It was do or die, and judging by the guns trained on her, that was a literal statement.

It was a blur as her instincts kicked in. She dodged bullets and landed kicks and punches with the agility only a super soldier was capable of. She took a few hits. Her nose was bleeding, maybe broken. She knocked them down one by one, over and over until they finally stayed down. Once the danger had been subdued, her brain started to clear. She took notice of the searing pain in her left bicep. Her trembling hand pressed to the spot and she groaned softly when her hand came away wet with blood.

Fuck.

The walk back to her motel room took far less time than the walk into town. Turns out that people tended to steer clear of you when you’re covered in blood, brandishing a gun like a madman. She didn’t have a lot of time, she knew that much. She didn’t know who would be coming, but she wanted to get the hell out of dodge before she found out.

She stripped out of her blood soaked clothes and threw them in the tub to wash out. She set to work on her wounds with a calm, experienced hand that she didn’t realize she had. Getting the bullet out and stitching herself up would have to wait. She made herself a tourniquet and bandaged herself up.

Once the bleeding had stopped, she scrubbed the blood from her skin. She wasn’t even sure some of it belonged to her. This was the second time she’d done this in the past 24 hours and it most certainly bothered her. She washed out her clothes and hung them up to dry a little, then ate what was salvageable from her meal. She was so tired, all of her energy was gone. But she knew better than to fall asleep until her body recovered a little. It could be a death sentence. She just needed to stay awake…

Bucky had managed to fall asleep, but the girl found her way into his dreams too. He saw her, beautiful, and powerful, and every bit his equal. He saw her being tortured, watched the scientists break her down to nothing. She screamed for help, screamed for him to save her.

He knew it was only a dream when he woke up, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He replayed the sounds of her screaming, of her begging in his head. He only stopped when F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced that Steve had called him down for dinner in the living area. He took a moment, splashing some water onto his face and tying his hair back. He needed to relax.

He joined the team, in the living area. They were all lounging around, talking and eating bowls of something that smelled exceptional. Steve motioned to the bowl he’d set out for Bucky with his spoon, and he flashed a thankful smile as he sat down.

“Wanda cooked, so you don’t have to worry about getting food poisoning.” Natasha joked. He rolled his eyes playfully and tucked into his food. Everyone talked and joked. It reminded them all of better times. It was comforting really. They seemed to be taking it quite well, Bucky thought, the whole being nationally wanted criminals thing. Eventually, Steve sat his empty bowl aside and stood up.

“I think we should talk business. If we get this mission debriefing out of the way tonight, we can get started first thing tomorrow.” He said. This caught Bucly’s attention. Steve had Tony’s AI pull up a file and project it for everyone to see. It showed a few grainy photos of a woman, the girl that Bucky remembered, but she was all grown up now. She was dressed in dark clothes. In one of them she was totally decked out with weaponry standing at the side of a motorcycle. In another, she was in the middle of a fight with someone who was clearly losing. There was only one that was a clear show of her face, but there was nothing behind her eyes, no emotion evident anywhere.

“This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Steve went on. Bucky couldn’t look away. “People refer to her as the bloodred princess. We need her. She’s one of Hydra’s best kept secrets, a specially trained assassin completely under their control.”

Bucky could feel all the eyes in the room shift towards him. He had sort of expected it. She was him, and nobody knew for sure what to expect from either of them. But he didn’t look away from the pictures. Her name was (Y/N). He’d never heard it before. She was even more human in his mind than she’d ever been.

“So, wait, we got another Winter Soldier situation?” Sam asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards Bucky. Steve gave a sharp nod.

“Bucky knows what we’re up against. He’s our best chance of getting to her, and she’s our best chance of destroying Hydra forever.” Steve explained as calmly as he could. He was protective, not that any of the others cared that Bucky had joined their fight. Hell, they’d fought a civil war for him.

The debriefing went on. Steve told them where she’d last been spotted and that she may have gone rogue. He ran through their plans, made it very clear that they were going to try and help her. She would be brought back, and if they could get her to cooperate, they’d take her to Shuri and get her fixed up too. Soon enough, they were dismissed, and Bucky was the first to leave for the safe solitude of his room. He had a lot to think about now. They didn’t begin the mission until morning. That gave him the rest of the night to pull himself together And that had just become a great deal more difficult.

“Hey, Sergeant.” A sultry voice called out from behind him, and he turned around to see Natasha with a friendly smile. “You have a second?”

He nodded, leaning against the doorway to his room. She leaned herself against the wall across from him and simply looked at him for a second, her eyes examining his face.

“You seemed sort of uncomfortable back there. I didn’t know if that was about (Y/N) or Hydra or…” She trailed off as if giving him an opportunity to answer her. He didn’t take it, so she kept talking. “I’m gonna talk to Steve. You shouldn’t be in the middle of this.”

Bucky smoothed a hand over his hair. Any logical part of his brain knew that she was right, that he was too close to the situation to deal with it properly. But the rest of him was screaming. Weren’t they all too close to the situation? Every member of their team had a bone to pick with Hydra. So what if his was a little bigger? She wasn’t sure what to make of his silence.

“I just wanted to tell you that you won’t have to lead the charge. I’m making sure of it.” It didn’t exactly sound like she was reassuring him, but more like she was threatening him to stay in the back and bite his tongue. “You know where my room is if you want to talk. Goodnight.”

Bucky slipped into his room and changed his clothes. He wasn’t exactly tired, but his other option was taking a shower, and he was pretty sure that would only force him deeper into his thoughts. He sank onto his bed and closed his eyes. He’d really thought he’d escaped all of it. But helping people was in his blood. He couldn’t leave people to suffer, not anymore. And god, (Y/N) was suffering.

@dragonofthenorth0726​ @nightshade7117​ @believeitseeitdoit​ @stuckyandsciencebros​ @this-is-mycrisis​ @xmtd5​ @someonekeepstakingmyusernames​ @greeniemoon​ @wayward-student-philosopher​ @messedupmyfuckinglife​ @yourwonderbelle @booboobella01 @kpoplover1306-depressedgirl315 @heybbyitsdarkoutside @silver-winter-wolf

[oyesmendes]

regrets and goodbye - luke hemmings

a/n: hello i am going to break your heart!!!! mini swearing and alot of sad angsty moments ahead. love yall!

Luke downs his first glass of tequila like its water. It doesn’t burn, just slides down his throat and he feels it course through his veins. So when the phone on the table rings and her name pops up on the screen, he thinks he’s drunk. Just like all the other drunken nights with him hallucinating her smile, her body next to him. He doesn’t pick up, just staring at it until it stops ringing and he’s left with the silence in his home. He lets another glass of the liquid slide down his throat, this time burning it along with a memory that burns a hole in his heart.  

-

Amber was pacing, a habit of hers whenever she felt stuck or frustrated, and it helped her get out of her own head. This time though, she wasn’t sure it was doing its trick. The dressing room was quiet for the first time after a show, only the low hum of the air conditioning could be heard. He could see her frustration, the way the little soldiers in her mind was working to help her find the right words. He could see the rage and sadness on her like the open book she was. Her lips part then press together before she looks straight up at him, the light in her eyes no longer there.

“I was just your half time entertainment wasn’t I? Not even worthy enough to be a trophy you can put on your shelf.” Disappointment. Sadness.

“I didn’t say that, Amber-“

“You didn’t have to say it. I should’ve known from the way you treated me.”

“From the way I treated you? I put you up on a fucking pedestal, Amber! You were more than a trophy.” Was he being serious right now? A fucking pedestal? Fire burned in Amber’s chest and she finally snapped.

“Then tell me why the fuck was your tongue in Kayla’s mouth last night. Tell me why the fuck did you take her back to your hotel room?” Anger. Pure rage. Luke froze in place, his eyes widening when he realises that she knows. She didn't want to call him out, but when he pulls her aside and tells her they were over on the last night of the North American leg of the tour, her mouth runs before her brain could stop it.

“Yeah, I knew. Saw her crawling out your room this morning, don’t tell me she was there to help you pick out an outfit for the radio show at 4AM. I’m not a fool.” He doesn’t say a word, just hangs his head low and sighs. Amber scoffs.

“You should’ve just told me, Luke. The truth is always better than a lie.”

-

He wanted to say he was sorry, tell her he didn’t mean it. That he was so stupid for choosing this route to break up with her. He never did anything with Kayla that night, she just listened to him talk her ear off about Amber and then told her to leave. Luke loved every part about Amber. The way she’d smile at him when she spots him staring at her during soundcheck, how she concealed her squeals when he tickles her side while passing her in the hallways. The way she would heed to all his requests about keeping it low-key, so much so that only the boys knew about her. she was his everything, and he would never compare her to a trophy. To him, she was a fucking goddess - the most magical woman he has ever seen. She was a goddamn dream that he never wanted to wake up from.

But he had to. Throughout the whole 6 months of sneaking around, Luke couldn’t give her what she gave him. After his previous relationship, everything in him was drained. He couldn’t give back and he found himself just taking whatever she gave him. He didn’t give himself time to heal from the past, just dove all in, battered and wounded by his ex. Amber didn’t mind though, she loved Luke for who he was. Yes, she was hurt that they couldn’t even stay in the same hotel room for a night, tired of hiding their relationship in front of the tour crew. But to her, Luke was worth it, even in his darkest hour, he was enough for her. Until he wasn’t.

The moment he decided to let her down in the most hurtful way possible, Luke lost it all. He managed to put out that seemingly permanent flame that burned in her chest, and darkness collapsed all around them.

His phone rings again, and he doesn’t answer, doesn’t bother to look. The caller leaves a voicemail this time, which Luke decides to listen to after another glass of tequila and his breath hitches at the sound of a sweet voice.

“Hey Lu,”

Amber.

She laughs dryly, and he can hear the sound of her fingers tapping against a surface.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this, I think I just wanted to hear your voice. But I guess you don’t.”

I do. I fucking do. He whispers under his breath.

He hears shuffling again and he imagines her on the couch, trying to find a good spot. Luke thinks she’s going to hang up but she doesn’t. He hears Amber take in a deep breath and it felt as if someone was pushing Luke’s head under water.

“You know, I found myself when I was with you. I thought someone could finally see me, understand who I was and loved every inch of me - the good, the bad and everything in between. I was all in… but I guess you weren’t. I feel so fucking dumb, Luke. You, you made me feel like I was on top of the world when I was actually falling down the tallest building in the world. And now I’ve hit the ground. Hard.”

There was a long pause, only her breathing could be heard.

“I-I love you, Luke. I never found the courage to say it first because I was never sure if you felt the same. Guess it doesn’t matter now. Anyway, I’ve handed in my resignation letter to Paul, I won’t be joining you guys on the next leg of the tour. I’ve recommended a replacement, Alex, he’s a friend from college, a real talent. I think you guys will like him a lot. Goodbye, Lu.”

"No" He gasps, hand clutching the edge of the table. No no no no no.

The line cuts dead and the silence in the room couldn’t be more deafening. He wants to say he loves her, he wants to tell her he needs her. But now she’s leaving, trying to pull herself out of his life for good. Luke scrambles to call her, fingers pressing too hard on the screen. He’s crying now, the phone ringing for way too long before it reaches her voicemail.

“Hey it’s Amber, sorry I can’t get to you right now, but leave a message and I’ll try to call you later! Or maybe I won’t, who knows?” The beep tone goes and Luke opens his mouth to say something but only a loud cry comes out. He ends the call and his hand drops to his lap. It was a few seconds before he feels his phone vibrate in his hand,

Amber: Don’t hurt the next girl, don’t hurt her like you did to us. I love you, Lu. Take care.

-

She takes a good look at the message one last time, her thumb hovering above the send button before firmly pressing down on it.

“You’re really going to do this huh?” Calum asks as he pulls her in for a hug.  

“Took me a while, but I have to.” Amber zips up the last of her suitcases, Calum, Ashton and Michael helping her carry her stuff to the front door.

“You don’t have to, just stay with us on tour. We’re so busy you barely even see us anyway.” Michael argues.

“It’s the risk of seeing him, Mikey. I can’t be tip toeing around you guys when my job involves dressing of you guys and occasionally doing the glitter on your face.” They don’t argue, just helping to load the things in the car quietly.

“We’ll miss you, kiddo. He’ll miss you.” Calum hugs her again after she squeezes Michael tightly.

“You guys take care of him for me okay? And take care of yourselves, I love you guys.” Amber blows a kiss to them before getting into Ashton’s car. He offered to drive her to the airport, since they’ve grown so much closer over their love for yoga and anything to do with the arts. The car ride was initially silent, until Amber plugs in her aux and plays the playlist she created for him. All the songs that described her love for him in one large playlist. ‘Black and White’ by Niall Horan plays in the background, and Amber thinks of the day they were both alone in the tour bus, a rare moment for them two, so it was easily her favourite. She remembers dancing and jumping about in the small space with Luke. She lets herself get lost in those moments, until Ashton’s voice brings her back to reality.

“Hey, I know you gotta go, but all the way to New York? You look like you’re avoiding the plague, Amber.” They both let out a laugh, Amber rolling her eyes playfully at Ashton.

“You know its not intentional, my next job just so happens to need me there. And I’m not staying forever, just a couple of months. You know how I am with winter.”

“Absolute trash.”

They arrive in the carpark of LAX and Ashton helps to unload her luggage. He doesn’t send her off to the gate, lest any of their fans see her with him. He hugs her tightly, rubbing large circles on her back. Amber wills the tears not to fall when it suddenly becomes real for her, she’s leaving. After working all these years with bands and artists in LA, she’s leaving that all behind because of one man. Ashton pulls away, kissing her forehead softly before letting her go.

“Take care of him for me, okay? And take care of yourself too, I know how you are when you go into dad mode.”

“I will, and I’ll make sure I take care of him till we see you again. Then, you can take care of him yourself.”

Amber grins, the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. She doesn’t know if she will ever see him again, not after all this. The boys she will definitely keep in touch with, they were some of her closest friends. But Luke? She kisses Ashton on his cheek when he squeezes her arm. This was it, she’s saying goodbye and off to a new city to start her new life.

[shezza1854]

PICKING UP THE PIECES

                                 Chapter 1. Breathing Space It was his palace now; this small ramshackle farmhouse. From it, he reigned over New Asgard like the king he was supposed to be. Yet, this king bore the heavy twin burdens of guilt and failure that drove him to overindulge in beer and food, forcing him to pack on the pounds and become the proud owner of a huge belly. In his sleep, nightmares plagued him, causing him to wake up screaming and throwing him into a deep depression. He was Thor Odinson, no longer the God of Thunder and Lord of the Lightning; but Thor Odinson, God of Gluttony! Silence hung heavy in the air as he watched her walking about the room. She said not a word, but every once in a while, a tear would fall as she remembered the emotional pain he caused her five years ago. He was just starting to feel his guilt then, and she was offering her friendship and support, only to be driven away. Terrible and ugly things were said, and they hadn’t spoken to each other since. It was her decision to come and see him with the intent to mend fences and, hopefully, to start again. She hoped he felt the same. Weary of walking, she finally sat on the threadbare couch and folded herself up into a ball. He cautiously approached her, unable to gauge her mood. He carefully sat down beside her and waited for her to speak. She looked balefully at him through one eye, never knowing whether to chew him out or just take him in her arms and forgive him. Heaving a huge sigh, she uncurled herself and got her first full look at him. Gone was the sleek black and silver armour with its red cape and, in its place, he wore an ancient pair of tan plaid pants, a pair of Crocs, a couple of shirts layered one atop the other; all covered by some sort of jacket. His beard was scruffy, and his hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a bottle of shampoo for about a fortnight to a month. In short, the poor man was a mess. He sat on his end of the couch much as he did on that bench five years ago; big hands folded in front of him and failure written in his eyes. He bowed his great shaggy head and started to sob. That made up her mind. She slid over to him and held him as tightly as she could. He, too, remembered that awful day five years ago, smiling a little as he felt his shoulders being rubbed. He looked at her, wondering how he could hurt her the way he did; returning her embrace. “Doc Strange told me everything,” she finally said. “I wasn’t your enemy, Thor. You could’ve told me.” “I know, my lady, but it was all too painful to repeat. The words I said to you were those of a spoiled child who revels in the pain and misery of others. I’ll admit I was surprised he brought you hereafter that,” he explained. “If you wish, you can end our friendship, and we’ll say goodbye here.” She shook her head as she chuckled at that notion. She leaned her forehead against his. “If there was one lesson I learned from that first day I met you, that lesson was there’s no getting over you, Thor Odinson. I’m here to give you a second chance and hope that you and I can go further than just being friends?” she told him. “I mean if you’ll have me.” “ Rossi, you don’t know how much I want that, but look at me! I’m fat. I eat and drink too much. I sit around and play games all day. Surely, you don’t want a mess like me who had failed everyone. Are you sure I’m the one you want?” he asked as she hugged him. “I guess I am the one you want.” She kissed him and patted his belly. She cared not what he looked like for she wasn’t too svelte herself. She liked men with big soft bellies for it meant they had plenty of padding to squish, and Thor had more than his fair share of squish. He shook his head as he tried to dry his tears. Excusing herself, she headed for the nearest Kleenex box. She returned to his lap, box in hand, and gave him two of its contents. He blew his nose and dried his eyes, looking at her again. “I...I don’t deserve you, Rossi,” Thor hiccupped. “I don’t deserve the friendship of anyone. I’m a fat failure.” “You let me be the judge of that? Over these past five years, I’ve grown quite fond of you, my big beautiful Viking. Yes, you did hurt me when you drove me away that first time. Well, my dear boy, you’re not going to do that again,” she told him in no uncertain terms. “You may be fat, but you’re no failure. I read the letter you left behind, and the words I read weren’t those of a spoiled child, but those of a remorseful grown man. That’s the main reason I’m here. It’s time to give Earth back her God of Thunder. It’s time to give me back my God of Thunder.”

“I’m nobody’s God of anything,” Thor sniffled. “In my dreams, I keep seeing my parents and Loki die again and again.”

He smiled sweetly as his again filled with tears. He had forgotten she was always in his corner, much along the lines of Tony Stark. He remembered her anger toward the Avengers for his sake when he thought she had no need. Now, here he was--a mess of a man who feared failure.

“I know how to clean up messes, including messes that walk on two feet,” she said. “When was the last time you had a good bath?”

The big Asgardian shrugged. He had gotten used to his own smell during the time he was in exile. He didn’t think he stunk, but it was obvious she did. She didn’t mean it to be unkind, but showing that she cared a lot for him. He looked at her and shook his shaggy head. She stroked his temple.

“That’s okay. It’s all fine. Now, I’ve brought some nice clean clothes for you,” she said. “Now, let’s get you naked.”

Mischief now twinkled in the ice-blue eyes. Didn’t Viking men have other things to think about besides sex? Oh, yeah, there was also that little thing called war. She paled a little when she saw his partial erection. He stepped into the tub and settled in the water with a contented sigh. She slathered a washcloth with soap and started scrubbing his broad back.

“Ahhh!” he groaned. “Gods, this  feels good!”

“Okay, Thor, give me your arse!” she chirped.

He rose on all fours and broke wind. She opened the window to air out the room. When she  came back, she found him lying on his back; his huge stomach exposed to the air. She handed him the soap and washcloth and told him  to wash his front. He pouted a little but obliged. Again, she saw his cock rising for the simple reasons that the water was still warm, and he was scrubbing it. She pronounced him clean and  told him to get out of the tub. She closed the window and told him to stay put as she went to get the shampoo she had also brought with her. He had pulled the plug out of the tub and was drying himself. She turned on the shower; this time to wash his hair. She knew he didn’t like people touching it, but she needed to get it clean; he needed to have it clean. She handed him the bottle and told him to wash it.

In his room, she looked at the mattress on the  floor and had a pretty good idea as to why it was there. He was soon with her, and she showed him what she had brought. She had T-shirts big enough to cover his tummy and buttonless trousers that would stretch and caress his stomach. A bear hug awarded her efforts. His old clothes were still wearable but needed washing something fierce. He dried his hair with the towel than let it dry naturally. She next turned to the mattress and considered clean sheets for it. The ones it had on now, well, words couldn’t describe the shape they were in. One thing for sure was that they needed to be changed and, knowing Thor’s penchant to go into town for his meals, she would check out the town to see if  there were any linen shops. His room seemed big enough for two people, so she’d build a nest for herself close enough to Thor so he could reach out and touch her during the night. He wouldn’t be alone when he had one of his nightmares again. She suspected that he had no one to comfort him in the past, but he had someone now.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Thor said. “You look tired, Rossi.”

“I feel as though I’ve been ridden hard and put up wet,” she said as she tried to stifle a yawn.

“Would I be pushing it if I asked you if you’d like to have a snooze with me?” Thor asked.

She smiled as thoughts of laying her head down on  that great belly for use as a pillow danced in her head.

“No, I don’t think you’d be pushing it,” she replied as she tried to stifle another yawn.

She flopped down on  the mattress and watched as the great deity take off his clothes. He soon stood naked before her; his great belly and erection proudly showing  themselves.

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“WAIT...AM I HEARING YOU RIGHT? YOU NEED HIS HELP? AFTER CASTING HIM ASIDE LIKE AN OLD WHEN HE WAS GOING THROUGH HIS OWN PERSONAL HELL, YOU NEED HIS HELP? FIVE YEARS AGO, NOT A DAMN ONE OF YOU CAME OUT OF YOUR OWN PITY PARTIES TO SHOW HIM ANY SUPPORT OR FRIENDSHIP OR GIVE HIM A SHOULDER TO CRY ON. YOU CALL YOURSELVES HIS FRIENDS, BUT REAL  FRIENDS DON’T ACT LIKE YOU ALL DID. HE ONLY SHOVED ME AWAY BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I WAS ONE THE SAME WAVELENGTH YOU GUYS WERE THEN ON. YOU TREATED HIM LIKE YOUR GOLDEN SLAVE OR YOUR GOLDEN LACKEY. THOR SAID IT BEST HIMSELF WHEN HE SAID: ‘NOTHING LASTS FOREVER, NOT EVEN FRIENDSHIP. NOTHING.’ WELL, HE CERTAINLY HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD WITH THAT ONE, IF YOU WERE EVER FRIENDS AT ALL. THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS IN HIS CORNER, BESIDES ME, WAS TONY HERE,” she roared at them. “FRIENDS, MY ASS! IF I LOOKED UP ‘FRIEND’ IN THE DICTIONARY, I WOULDN’T SEE YOUR PICTURES BESIDE IT. YOU’RE JUST COVERING YOUR OWN ASSES BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T WIN YOUR LAST BATTLE WITH THANOS.”

“Rossi, we’re protecting Midgard from him,” Thor tried to tell the irate little woman, but she was having none of it.

“THOR IS THE BEST THING TO HAPPEN TO ME SINCE JT. NOW, YOU WANT TO TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME? WHEN ARE YOU BLOODY LOT GOING TO STOP?” she bellowed; her voice breaking.

She dropped into Thor’s chair. She had had her fill of Stark and his bunch. Cap tried to say something in the Avengers’ defence, but he got one of her deadlier glares. He closed his mouth and stepped back into his spot. He and Thor exchanged looks as she rose from  the chair and left for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Let’s go,” was all Thor could say. He knew trying to  reason with her when she was in this mood was night onto impossible.

“She’ll be okay, Thor,” Tony assured him.

“I’m not so sure, Brother Anthony. The last time she was this angry was five years ago,” Thor said. “I know she misses her husband. Now, she fears losing me. I hope she’s here when I get back.”

The Hulk made an attempt but was warded off. He shrugged his big green shoulders and followed his friends out. Stark thwarted all attempts to reason with the Canadian expat and herded them out the door.

“She won’t listen to any of us, so we might as well go,” he said. “Thor, did she say how long she was married to her last husband?”

“Ten years, I think,” the big Asgardian replied. “She told me he was murdered by a  group of of people call the New York Mafia.”

Stark cringed. That was one group of people with whom no one should mess. The wounds from his death were still fresh, and Thor was there to help her heal.

“All we can do is get you back to her in one piece, Point Break,” he said quietly.

The minute she was gone, she started  to pack. There was a bed and breakfast in town where she could clear her mind and decide on her next moves. Yes, she’d go back to him because she didn’t want to see him drink himself into the ground. He deserved a good long happy life.

Why couldn’t she give that to him? It was for the simple reason that the Avengers kept getting in the way. She could remember when he first came to Midgard as an arrogant spoiled Asgardian prince who thought humans were petty and tiny. Well, a lot of water had gone over the Falls since  then, and the prince change his mind. She and her fellow humans welcomed the deity with open arms once he cut out the arrogance and snobbery. He had certainly mellowed during his time here and she, for one, was glad for the change. She now sat in the diner, picking at her food and wondering about her future.

The memory of what he said about being a good man rather than king made her smile. Thor was the polar opposite of his father--a man who, once during his numerous rages, almost beat the young Thor to death. Thor treated the people of Midgard with love, thoughtfulness--words that never were in Odin’s vocabulary. Thor learned that, if you treat people right, they’d treat you right.

Things his father never learned.

She pushed her plate aside and stared out the window, thinking of what her life would be like without the big Asgardian. God only knew  that she couldn’t compete with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. The only solution was now staring her in  the face, and that was to give Thor over to the Avengers and just walk away. She spent this long without anyone; hell, what’s a little longer?

“G’day!” a voice said, making her jump. “Food’s usually pretty good here.”

“Mmmm...what?” she asked as she came out of her daydream.

“Kip Hemsworth,” the voice continued. “I was wondering if you’re okay. If ya don’t wanna talk, I’ll understand.”

Tears of relief coursed down her cheeks. Who sent this guy? Sure, he was a stranger, but she desperately needed to talk to someone. Besides, weren’t strangers friends one had yet to meet?

“Rossi Sullivan--hi,” she sniffled as she watched her small hand disappear into his giant paw.

“Mind?” he asked as he pointed to the bench opposite her.

“Park it,” was all she said before going silent.

When she got her first good look at him, her jaw dropped because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing--sandy blond hair, blue eyes that looked  right into her soul and, before he sat down, 6′3″ in height. How could three men look so much alike without being related?

“I don’t know where to start,” she said.

“The beginning is always good,” he said.

She sighed as the waitress appeared.

He ordered her a grilled ham and cheese and a cuppa; for himself, steak and eggs and a beer.

She told him everything--how she left North America to become a British citizen and how her husband was murdered by the New York Mafia, cutting her last  ties with that continent.

“Sorry, I must be boring you. Here I am prattling on, and you haven’t gotten a word in edgewise, she said.

 “No worries,” Kip said, taking a sip from his beer. “So, what do you do in London?”

“I brought my mother’s family home, so to speak. I’m half British blood, and I have my British passport. After the 2012 Games, I started the process of becoming a British citizen. I now have a lovely little flat right above Sherlock Holmes and John Watson,” she said. “I have a job with Madame Tussauds Wax Museum.”

Kip just looked at her when she said that. Weren’t Sherlock Holmes and John Watson fictional characters? She just smiled and assured him that they were just as real as she and him were. She pulled out her tablet and went to Tumblr. There was an article about her solving the Regents Park Zoo murders and putting a huge dent in Holmes’ ego. She also dented his ego when she found the person causing all the trouble with the weather on the Westminster tube. She pulled up a picture of Holmes and Watson and showed it to him. Kip just staring at it, trying to wrap his head around the idea that pair was real.

“So, how long were you and JT married?” Kip asked before taking another bite of steak.

“”We were married fifteen years...,” he voice trailed off and she bowed her head.

‘Hemsworth, you idiot!’ Kip berated himself as he pulled her close. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispered as he pulled her close.

“It’s okay, Kip. I was just thinking about our life together, and how we were hoping to grow old together.”

“I’ll soon have to go back to Stralia, but how about we travel together to England? I can stay for a few days, and you can show me London and, maybe someday, you can come and see me?” Kip offered cheerfully.

“I’d like that, “ she murmured as she smiled at him through her tears. “So what do you do besides go searching for the perfect wave?”

“I’m a sheep rancher in the Outback,” he replied as he finished the last bit of his steak and eggs. “I’ve got one of the bigger stations.”

“You don’t run it by yourself?” she asked as she swallowed her last bit of tea.

“Nope! It’s usually just Liam and I. Liam’s my youngest brother,” Kip said.

She went white. What were the odds of two men having a brother named Liam?

All Kip knew about Chris was that he was an actor and he played a god.

Kip was constantly smiling, bless his Aussie heart. He was smiling now, and she smiled back.

“Are you alright, Rossi?” he asked now.

She nodded. Sure, she was a bit weary, but fine.

“I was thinking of Thor,” she said.

“Ah, your fella. Now, the truth comes out!” Kip teased.

“May I bring your check?” a voice cut into the conversation.

“I guess there’s no time like the present,” she said before turning the tablet on again.

She tapped the Tumblr icon and found a picture of Chris as he look in Thor: The Dark World. She swallowed once and showed the picture to Kip. Beer flew everywhere, and the rancher started coughing. She put the tablet down and slapped him between  the shoulders. He held his hands up in an attempt to get her to stop. He stared at the picture, speechless, for the next few minutes.

‘I’ve come this far. I might as well go all the way,’ she thought.

She found a picture of Chris being his charming goofy Aussie self at a convention.

“Um...Kip?” she said.

“Yeah?” he said. “What have you got there?”

She handed him the tablet, and the poor man went as white as a sheet of paper. She was beginning to suspect that this was the first time he ever slapped eyes on Chris. They headed for the airport. Purchasing their tickets for Heathrow and checking their suitcases, they headed for the lounge to await their flight. She glanced at him and felt the tears come again.

“So you’re leaving him?” Kip asked.

“I’m not leaving him. I’m giving him breathing space so he can get his priorities in order. I left him a letter stating as such because I can’t compete with the Avengers--you know, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. I’d call them Earth’s Mightiest Homewreckers, but that’s just me. All Tony Stark has to do is snap his fingers, and Thor gallops off like some obedient Golden Retriever. I’ve had it with Tony Stark and his bunch. Five years ago, his so-called friends, the Avengers, never lent him a shoulder to cry on or talk to him about the hell he was going through. That hell was the death of his parents and his brother, Loki, plus his feelings of failure. I called the Avengers out on the carpet, but he went anyway...I’m sorry!”

“Come here, Rossi,” Kip said.

“I’m sorry for dumping this all on you,” she said as she fell into his embrace. 

“It’s alright. I asked,” he said as he held her.

She pulled some Kleenexes from pocket as she smiled moistly at him.

He was one of the good ones, this lad.

When she finally got her act together, he held her out at arms’ length.

“Still have feelings for him?” he asked.

“Yeah. There’s just no getting over Thor Odinson,” she said.

[imhereforbvcky]

Vivid - Part 7

Masterlist  -  Series Masterpage

Summary: Have you ever met someone who completely embodies a color? Not an aura, not synesthesia. Just… They walk into the room and when you spot them, you think to yourself, “Wow. That is a walking hurricane.” When Clint Barton serendipitously meets a free-spirited stranger, he sees red. Chapter: The mission continues.

Warnings: Swearing, mission violence, sad Clint, sappiness, goofiness, the whole gamut!

Word Count: 2294

A/N: Here we go! Here we go! Back on track! Just gotta write the ending 😬

All Clint really wanted was a nap. A really long fucking nap. And maybe when he woke up, he’d like to sit on the roof and eat cold pizza with Lucky at his side.

He was exhausted. More even, his head was running in that way that is hard to stop. Neurons continued to fire at a brutal pace despite the bone-deep fatigue that plagued his over-wrought body. Worry burned and ricocheted through his brain, fueled by stress and fear and a million and a half regrets. He had so many of them.

Wanda had told him again and again it wasn’t his fault. He knew, on some level, that she was right. None of them could blame themselves for the damage caused by others’ bad choices. They tried to mitigate the damage. They didn’t do the bad things.

But he couldn’t help thinking… he shouldn’t have rested, shouldn’t have let himself flag. He should have gone after that guy when he took off down the alley. He shouldn’t have told you to get everyone else away from the Leviathan… That one burned bright and hot in his chest.

He’d been searching for what felt like forever, sifting through the crowd of faces for the right face. None were the one he sought. Eventually, from the row of ambulances, he’d trudged back to the scene of the explosion empty handed. Dejected and anxious. He’d looked up to find Sam arguing with a petite woman, angry and insistent. She kept putting herself in Sam’s path. Begging wasn’t the right word; Nina didn’t beg. She claimed his attention and commanded his aid.

Clint ran as fast as his worn and burning muscles would allow. “Nina! Are you okay? Where is she?” the words tumbled out like water, like an uncontainable brook. His urgency had grown to a river spilling its banks, a force that could – would – wear stone down to oblivion and create monoliths in its desperation.

Nina looked at him, relieved for the moment. “Told you!” she snapped at Sam who raised his hands in surrender. She thrust an insistent finger at Clint’s chest. ”He knows me. Or, well… he knows my friend.”

“Nina!” Clint snapped, “What happened!”

She turned her attention to him, eyes as wild as his own. “I don’t know. When the whale thing lit up, she started telling everyone to back up. Yelling and… She climbed up on the stage! She was right next to that thing! I swear, sometimes she doesn’t even think, just does! I told her, ‘Look before you leap.’ I told her! But then you came… And then.. And then the—“

“She was on the stage?!” he balked, finally catching up to her rapid-fire speech. He had seen it – the explosion. He’d seen it when he’d gone ripping open emergency exits, giving escape to the sea of civilians in the blast radius. Wanda had enveloped the entire stage, Leviathan and all. A balloon of roiling fire and smoke had glowered down at him. Splintered wood and buckling steel had stretched the limits of Wanda’s protection.

He’d told them all to run, and then he had run with them.

Wanda had contained the heat, and possibly you within it.

“Hospital,” he mumbled as he staggered away, blind and numb as a newly born bird. He could think of nothing but the burning in his gut and the screaming in his skull, the fear and the regret. There was no salve but to find you.

“I hafta…” he muttered, turning into the cold embrace of the night. “I… hospital.” He repeated.

If you were alive, you’d be in a hospital.

Except you weren’t.

He’d asked every EMT on the scene if anyone had taken a severe burn victim. They hadn’t. They radioed all the nearby hospitals. No such patient.

It should have been a relief, but it wasn’t good enough. Clint stole Bucky’s motorcycle and wove with the reckless push of adrenaline through traffic, personally checking at every hospital in the area.

Nothing.

Not at the scene. Not in a hospital. He checked your apartment next, fist thundering on the door, voice shouting your name from the street until the neighbors yelled back and he skulked away holding his head in his hands.

He trudged aimlessly down the street until his phone rang. With a flame of hope igniting in his chest, he shoved it to his ear. Your name shoved past his lips, desperate as a prayer.

“No, Clint,” Wanda sighed. “No sign of her yet. Fire department haven’t found any bodies either. That’s a good thing.”

“’Kay.”

“Nina will call if she hears from her.” A silence which Clint did not fill. “Clint, you need to get some rest.”

“Yeah.”

“Eat something, clean yourself up, stitch yourself up,” there was a smile in her voice. It was gone by her next instruction. “Sleep, Clint. She’ll turn up. Or we’ll find her. You’re no good to her dead on your feet. You have to put the oxygen mask on yourself first, remember?”

“Yeah.”

“Clint.”

“I heard you,” he sighed. “Gonna stop for some food for Lucky first.”

“Debrief at nine tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Wan.”

People kept staring at him as they passed. The kind of stare where heads seemed to swivel round in a complete 180, eyes big as saucers. They looked like owls. He looked like shit. Or so he assumed or they wouldn’t stare like they did.

Dusty fingers reached for his upper lip, checking the gash there. Mistake. The cement dust on his hands let loose a volcano of a sneeze.

“Shit,” he muttered, shuffling to grab at the toppling tower of white take-out boxes in his arms.

Almost home. Then he could sleep. Or try to. He was so tired. The kind of tired that made his limbs feel like magnets, like there was another even greater magnet in the center of his mattress, dragging him forcibly deeper into its warm safety with a heavy leaden pull until he relented to the endless deep. The thought of it struck him as both pleasant and terrifying all at once.

Clumsy fingers fished around in a stiff leather pocket for his keys while his chin steadied the tower of take-out.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered to no one in particular. Maybe to the keys. Maybe to the universe who never seemed to listen. “Be good to me.”

Just steps away now, eyes high and unfocused as he arched, like only he could, to reach the depths of his pocket.

“Gotcha!” He held the keys aloft triumphantly, grinning at them. That was a good sign, surely. The universe had answered kindly. Maybe there was reason to hope.

Must’ve been, because when he looked down to find the first step up to his apartment, he nearly dropped everything.

There on his stoop, Lucky chomped on a slice of pizza, his head in the lap of a woman in a well worn band tee covered in dust and ash. A two-litre of coke pressed between greedy hands and Lucky’s deep purple draped untouched over the stairs.

Clint froze, like a computer stuck between competing commands. Laugh, or cry, or yell, or kiss. He couldn’t decide which took priority.

As you tipped the giant bottle of coke down from your lips and spotted him, you choked a little on the final gulp. The red label ripped red between your fingers, red as the surge of heat that swelled across your cheeks.

“Hi,” you managed. “I uh…” You pushed the bottle aside and spun the little red cap on. “You looked like you had your hands full at uh… back… you know. And I wanted to make sure someone was looking after Lucky while you were… busy.”

Words hadn’t made it past Clint’s basic mental programming yet, but he’d managed, at least to step forward, to set the take-out boxes on the stairs, and sit on the step below you.

“You-you said you wanted um coffee? And pizza? After everything. But my phone…” you held up a crushed shell of aluminum and glass. “I dropped it when… when the alien thing exploded. And it got trampled.”

Clint nodded. This was all hard for you to say, to relive that fear, and it was hard for him to hear. He’d been there, had hated every second of it and he hated how close you had been to annihilation.

He’d watched the orange swirling fire within Wanda’s red mist. It was the richest, brightest red he’d ever seen and he had been sure, absolutely positive that only something that had swallowed you whole could glow with that particular shade.

“So I just turned up on your stoop with pizza,” you rambled because he wasn’t speaking or moving at all. “Like an impulsive crazy person.” Suddenly feeling truly impertinent. You reached for the candy you still had stashed in your pocket from the concert, a nervous tick. Because while Clint needed coffee, you needed candy. You’d heard a TV show once say it was cheaper than drugs and tasted better than coffee and both were true.

“I mostly just didn’t want to be alone after… you know. But if you need to be, I get it. I’ll leave.” You shoved a handful of sweet little granules into your mouth and curled your feet under you, ready to jump up and go.

He still didn’t speak, but he did move. One impulse had won out in his brain and he lunged forward, one dusty, scraped up hand curling around the side of your throat with urgent fingers as his lips closed over yours.

He kissed you hard, with rough teeth and searching tongue, with gripping hands that held you tight like he was afraid you might slip right through his fingertips. He kissed you like you might not be real, like he needed to feel every last thing to make damn sure.

When he pulled away you were both breathless, but it was you who held tight, fingers digging into the stiff leather armor at his chest. You held him close and tightly, like hell had knocked at the door and you didn’t want him to make one move to answer it.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered. His breath tickled your lips and the edge of your nose.

“Then I won’t.”

He nodded and swallowed, eyes dancing over your face, caught, once again, between a myriad of actions. Want and necessity battling right on his stoop with his dog sniffing at the cartons of fresh steaming food.

“Why um…?” he paused, debating whether to even ask. After the night he’d had, there was a fair chance he was just going crazy. “Weird question but, why did that… Did that tingle for you, too?”

You snorted out a laugh, forehead falling to his shoulder as you reached into your pocket for the little black envelope of sweets you’d been dipping into all night.

“Pop rocks,” you smirked up at him.

“Naturally.”

“They go with everything,” you shrugged, pinching a few more into your mouth. Since you had the packet out anyway. “Bubble gum,” you suggested, kissing his lip softly, swiftly. “Vodka soda.” Another brief kiss. He leaned after you. “A good kiss.”

Gentle hands tugged you closer into a slower, messier kiss. The moment your lips found his, you pushed your tongue forward, rolling it along with a streak of popping fizzling candy against his. He giggled against your teeth and you drew back, grinning. The faint snap of erupting candy lingered with him.

“Should we… go upstairs?” he asked.

“If you want to.”

“There’re a lot of things I want to do,” he chuckled and you laughed. It crinkled your whole face and you shoved at his chest playfully. Red. Heat in your cheeks and flooding your lips as you bit down on a smile. You hid nothing and affection bubbled so readily. He liked that. It chased away the heavy drain of the magnet in his chest that might lock him in his own head for weeks at a time. At least, this time it did.

“Can we sleep?” he asked, voice still a low whisper. Insomnia plagued him for a reason. But right now, with you curled around him, he thought, perhaps, he might like a rest.

“Shower first.” You swiped a finger over his cheek, filthy with dirt and concrete dust, streaks of sweat and a gash of dried blood.

“And eggrolls.”

“Eggrolls in bed,” you countered.

With a lopsided grin and a tilt of his head, Clint regarded you for a moment, then shook his head with a small huff, just short of a chuckle. Affection might come easy to you, words like “I love you,” and “I miss you,” and “I was so goddamn worried about you.” They did not to Clint. He bit his tongue while reaching out with gentle hands and smiling eyes. Actions he could do, words less so.

“What?” you asked, matching the tilt of his head.

Instead of an answer he leapt to his feet, and took your hands, pulling you to yours. Lucky barked excitedly at the commotion.

“What are you doing?” you giggled as Clint leant over squaring his shoulder to your waist.

With an arm wrapped behind your knees he lifted you off the ground. About 4 inches off the ground. It lasted about 4 seconds before he groaned and dropped you back on your feet.

“Nope. Nope. Too tired.”

“I’ll get the carry-out,” you laughed, stepping toward the neglected tower of little white cartons. “You just get upstairs my Secret Avenger.”

“It wasn’t a secret!”

“Don’t call me an idiot.”

“You said it, not me.—Ow!” He ducked, scooping up your projectile.  “Not the fortune cookies!”

Chapter 8 >>

[musicreviewbfox]

Chromatica

The Album Chromatica is Lady Gaga’s newest album. It’s a new album not only in the sense that it marks her return to being an Enigma to the general public again. But this album also uncovers how the artist behind Lady Gaga has been feeling and hopes to reach out to people. She hopes to reach out to her fans. The album its self is almost a love letter to not only Stefani the woman behind the mask of Lady Gaga. But Chromatica is an album to let others join in on her own self-love affair. Chromatica has three string arrangments that are key to dividing up the album from Resentment and depression to Entrapment and PTSD and lastly ends in a blanket of upbeat pop rhythms where Stefani assures herself that she is making an everlasting impression on not only her fans but the music industry itself. 

 I didn't ask for a free ride

I only asked you to show me a real good time

I never asked for the rainfall

At least I showed up, you showed me nothing at all

The beginning lyrics of Rain on Me by Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande form a beautiful entry to the depressive side of Chromatica after Lady Gaga drops us into Chromatica with Alice and ensuring that Chromatica runs on everlasting Stupid Love. Rain on Me is different from its predecessor in which Stefani admits that the love-filled joy trip she had has finally come to halt and she is left yet again broken-hearted. She dissects the struggle she now faces being alone and admitted by herself in interviews “A fountain of misery for tears to pour out of”(Spotify). This everlasting presence continues with the lyrics.

It's coming down on me

Water like misery

It's coming down on me

I'm ready, rain on me

We are reminded that this is the mesmeric miserable state that Gaga and Ariana are in with the lyrics but the beat in the background of Rain on me is a heavy bass and beat to carry the singers on and be able to channel that miserable energy into fighting dance styles as displayed in the music video that they both appear in. Gaga leading the front of the pink tribe and Ariana with the purple tribe. Both singers are seen in Mad Max outfits which is the setting of Chromatica. A dystopian world where all ideas are challenged and the only way to survive is to dance away the pain or love you feel. Which carries us to Ariana’s lyrics 

Living in a world where no one's innocent

Oh, but at least we try

Gotta live my truth, not keep it bottled in

So I don't lose my mind

Baby, yeah

I can feel it on my skin

It's coming down on me

Teardrops on my face

Water like misery

Let it wash away my sins

It's coming down on me

Let it wash away

 Ariana comes in with massive vocals and is able to quickly catch up to Lady Gaga in terms of performance. In an hour-long interview with Zane Lowe this was one of the hardest parts of the song for both Ariana and Gaga. Ariana reportedly felt overwhelmed and felt like she couldn’t keep with Gaga until Lady Gaga pulled her out of the booth, determined Gaga said “you are gonna sing as you’ve never done before, while I dance in the corner”. That’s exactly what happened and Ariana outdid herself with many fans and critics saying that the high notes Ariana not only hit while in the studio were astounding but the high notes she hit on the VMA’s matched up to why the duo worked so well together on this record. This now brings us to some closing lyrics

I'd rather be dry, but at least I'm alive

Rain on me, rain, rain

Rain on me, rain, rain

I'd rather be dry, but at least I'm alive

Rain on me, rain, rain

Rain on me

I hear the thunder coming down, won't you rain on me?

Rain on me

I hear the thunder coming down, won't you rain on me?

Rain on me

The final lyrics of Rain On Me show how Ariana and Gaga are prepared for any more trials to come in the future. The duo is prepared for whatever comes their way and are ready for the misery that the tears of regret and broken love may give them. Love being a recurring theme is Chromatica so far in the first section means that it won’t be overplayed and overdone as you the reader will see which is really one of my only criticisms of this album.

The next song that we’ll cover on the Chromatica album is Replay. The song Replay has a lot to do with much of Lady Gaga’s PTSD and Trauma responses to the violent attacks she suffered at 17 and 19. The middle of Lady Gaga’s album is much more of her pained past and how she chooses to come through the other end is with music. Lady Gaga heals as reported is through music. Lady Gaga reported in a Spotify/genius interview. “I refused to not allow this song to be on the album. Sure, I’m the “boss. But really chromatica cannot exist without an abstract explanation of what it’s like to be triggered if you have PTSD.”. So with the explanation of the reason why the track exists at all, it’s now to dive into the lyrics of Replay. 

Am I still alive?

Where am I, I cry

Who was it that pulled the trigger, was it you or I?

I'm completely numb

Why you acting dumb

I won't blame myself 'cause we both know you were the one 

In the beginning Lady Gaga questions if she is still alive much like how she reports in her song 911 at the beginning of the second act of Chromatica is if she is still sane and can’t escape the voices in her head during a manic episode. She again feels trapped but an outer source forcing her to relive a traumatic experience that she feels undeserving of. The questions of why does my existence amount to this, why was I the chosen out of so many people, why can’t I escape this anguish and misery. Gaga takes all of these questions and puts them as a side focus to have the answer put in front of people. Lady Gaga believes she isn’t a savior but rather looking to take the pain she’s delt and expresses it through music cause in the same interview Gaga says “ And the very thing that plagued my mind for years, trauma, is precisely the thing that now powers my lifeforce to be braver. I.e. this voice I hear- continue to make music although your brain feels it’s breaking sometimes.”. This brings us to the next set of lyrics 

Every single day, yeah I dig a grave

Then I sit inside it, wondering if I'll behave

It's a game I play, and I hate to say

You're the worst thing and the best thing that's happened to me

What Lady Gaga is trying to submit here is with her vocals radiating up and down a registry key is that she is condemning herself for feeling the pain and relieving the trauma she is experience. She continues to feel this pain and she questions is it her or the monsters that have been created in her head that force her to feel this way. She questions if she even cares about the damage being done to her mentally and physically and if she is paying the price for a much higher power for being the way she is. 

Psychologically, it's something that I can't explain

Scratch my nails into the dirt to pull me out of pain

Does it matter, does it matter? Damage is done

Does it matter, does it matter? You had the gun

You had the gun

You had the gun

You had the gun 

In the last lyrics of Replay, we the audience get a full picture described to us of how Lady Gaga is fighting the monsters in her mind and how she is trying to break free from a fire zone. A red zone in which every step causes pain and misery but Lady Gaga fights this torture by dancing and singing against it. She uses her music to help balance herself once and remind herself that she is ready to keep going and fight these monsters every time they replay.

I need you to listen to me, please believe me

I'm completely lonely, please don't judge me

In the sing 1000 Doves we get a different side of Lady Gaga, the side she’s sheltered and kept away from the world, aside she is ready to nourish and feed love again. That side of Gaga is Stefani. Lady Gaga put an alter ego in the spotlight and hid away Stefani the person and mind behind Gaga away from the world. She kept Stefani away and in this song she tells Lady Gaga she finally gets to meet the person who had the hard path and tough road to ride to fame and fortune. Stefani the woman who stuck around whenever everyone left her. Stefani endured many hard times and never got to fully understand and put into motion how her Trauma and battles against those that deposed her especially at her time in NYU Tisch. The next set of lyrics describe the passion and love that Stefani has for Lady Gaga.

When your tears are falling, I'll catch them as they fall

I need you to listen to me, please don't leave me

I'm not perfect yet but I'll keep trying

When your tears are falling, I'll catch them as they fall

In these sets of lyrics, Stefani is the singer and at the reigns. You can tell that this is Stefani coming through because she is saying she is always ready to catch Gaga’s tears as she falls apart no matter where and or why. Stefani has healed and is always ready for the net challenge. She was born ready for fame because of the humiliation she faced growing up. Misunderstood and abused was Stefani and so she took all the pain and formed an alter ego to protect from the world which is Lady Gaga. which is complex because the song seems like a love ballad to another person she vows to protect but in reality, it is a love letter to Lady Gaga from Stefani and how she is ready to combine to the two and have them heal one another.

I've been hurting, stuck inside a cage

So hot my heart's been in a rage

If you love me, then just set me free

And if you don't, then baby leave

Set me free

In these final lyrics, we get a showcase of what it was like for Stefani to finally meet the creation she helped launch into stardom. A woman she doesn’t know almost because of how long it been since shes played a role in Gaga’s life. Not since the Artpop have the two been in hand deep of creating music as Stefani has had the reigns in the last couple of years with Cheek to Cheek, Joanne, and A Star is Born. But Stefani knows the woman who brought the stardom and first captured the world’s attention which is Lady Gaga. So at the end of this song, the two recollect and remember how hard it was for Lady Gaga and Stefani to receive the credit that they’ve held onto for over a decade now.  

A thousand do-o-o-o-o-o-ves

Oh-oh

Flying, flying, flying like a thousand doves

A thousand do-o-o-o-o-o-ves

Flying, flying, flying like a thousand doves

Flying, flying, flying like a thousand doves

Flying, flying, flying

With these lyrics I abid you a good morning, afternoon, or night on our journey of Chromatica. Overall the main takeaways of Chromatica as an album are that Lady Gaga wrote this album as a self-love note much like in the ways of Ariana Grande did with sweetener, Kesha did with Rainbow, and what many artists do with self-titled albums or more depending on how long they’ve been in the music industry. But the core points to take away from Chromatica is that hardships are expected and what you can expect for Stefani or even Lady gaga to do with those hardships is to write music and dance the pain away. Either is be a traumatizing experience in Replay, a broken heart in Rain on Me, or even a question of self-worth in 1000 Doves. Gaga will and forever make music for those who feel like an underdog and had many crazy experiences.

 Links:

https://genius.com/Lady-gaga-1000-doves-lyrics

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZXBF9t32zA

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/lady-gaga-chromatica-making-of-bloodpop-axwell-1007139/

https://genius.com/Lady-gaga-and-ariana-grande-rain-on-me-lyrics

https://genius.com/Lady-gaga-replay-lyrics

[liloelsagranger]

Viridian Love Story - Chapter 5: Shattered dreams

Hello my dear friends! Chapter 5 is online. Enjoy :)

@ndbern-rocketmonsters @ndbernarts @jessicarocket @estrelarabyss @prepareforetrouble @masterstarpikachu @tothestarsabove @teamrocketfanart @thelovelyjessie @webelieveinlovepower @chaosandhope @james-team-rocket @danadiversity @krazy-holly @keksrocket @harmonyrocketeeveon @pok3ship @yesjanii @thecomputergirl @elysiiandream @fugly-chan @batfamfan1 @ghostkitty @pikamofo @eclipsing-dreams @abatwc @emily1037 @texansman20 @inuyashaeienni @zayphantomslayer @cat-0301 @james-kojiro-team-rocket @stjarnflicka @diehardrocketshipper @eclipsing-dreams  Chapter 5: Shattered dreams

At six o'clock in the morning, Jessie awoke from one of the most beautiful dreams that had ever accompanied her through the night. She was walking along the beach of Alola, hand in hand with James. Newly in love, they played and joked, completely carefree and far from the past. James would wrap his arms around her waist, placing a row of kisses down her neck. She enjoyed his caresses and felt the need to never let go of him again. Eternal partners who didn't have to abide by laws and rules, but were finally allowed to deepen their relationship. A smile flitted over Jessie's face as she reviewed the nocturnal pictures again. Part of that dream had finally come true. James was lying next to her, slumbering with a blissful smile. He seemed so vulnerable and she felt de desire to protect him. Protect him from past atrocities, from her and from the grunts that use to question his abilites. The grunts! Her heart skipped a beat. Jessie reached for the nearest pillow and slapped it in James' face. «Ouch, what have I done to deserve this, Jess ? » He rubbed his nose. «We're late, James. The grunts are waiting for our instructions! Get up! Now!» She was about to jump out of bed, but James held her back. «Give me five minutes to brighten your day,» he grinned mischievously as he kissed Jessie's hand. Of course, she would rather spend times of treachery with James, but duty called, so she freed herself from his grip. «This has to wait! You should probably get dressed,» she looked at him from top to bottom, finding it difficult to suppress an embarrassed smile. He was an extraordinarily handsome man, and a gifted lover, but they couldn't afford another faux pas with Giovanni, even if the urge to press her lips on his almost overpowered her. Uniformed and ready to give instructions, the trio arrived at Team Rocket's headquarters. Jessie and James tried as hard as they could to avoid Meowth's gaze, who had been looking at them sceptically all the way to the phone booth. He smelled the rat, he knew what was going on, but the couple didn't bother to explain. They dialed the number and concentrated on the plan. It rang at least ten times before someone picked up the phone. That's how much the trio was valued. They were at the bottom of the food chain, expected to make nothing but missteps. «It was about time, losers,» Cassidy said, Jessie clenched her hands to fists. Each and every time she tried to score off the trio with her titlings. «Let's hear your master plan, we're all very excited about it», her call was more than sacrastic and Jessie could hear some grunts laughing in the background, but she gathered all her self-confidence and they reported on their plans. «Prom night takes place in the big hall. We found out that there are four emergency exits. They either lead outside or into a bunker. The bunker is of course out of question for our project, but cars equipped with nets and cages for the Pokémon will be waiting outside. We'll keep the crowd at bay, you just run away and deliver the root to Giovanni. It's simple. On our callsign you storm the hall. We use smoke bombs to put the students out of action while the smoke detectors are turned off. Easy as pie, isn't it ? » Jessie was totally convinced of the plan, James and Meowth nodded in agreement, but Cassidy snorted derisively. « Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, you no-goods ! » she replied. « Whatever Cass ! See you tonight ! » Jessie ended the call and yelled out loud. «Who does she think she is? She always has to badmouth our ideas. That conceited b…» James shushed her. «It's okay, sweetheart» he whispered. «It's going to be a blast», he made sure Meowth was out of earshot. «Can't wait to see you in that beautiful evening gown tonight. You'll be the most charming woman on the dance floor and I'll be your suave companion, okay ? » he lifted her chin, placing a quick kiss on her lips. Ash was nervous, but he couldn't really place his excitement. For almost two hours he had been waiting for Serena, who wanted to look pretty for the occasion and she did. Serena was wearing a pink dress and a mother-of-pearl bolero. She wore her hair in a complicated updo. Her red lipstick shined like ruby on her lips. «Ready, Ash?» they linked arms and entered the big hall. Students and Pokémon had already gathered on the dance floor. There was laughter, drinking and partying. The organizers had really worked hard. Nothing was lacking. Snacks, fruit punch and delicious and tasty desserts were served at the buffet. Ash spotted a long line of people waiting to take pictures in the photo booth and then he spotted her. Misty was dressed in a light blue evening gown. She wore her hair loose, discreet make-up and a stunning smile. «Hey Ash!» she and Brock cleaved their way through the crowd. «Hi Misty, Brock» Ash couldn't avert his gaze from her. She looked so mature, not like that frumpy little girl she used to be. He swallowed hard, internally struggling with some unknown feelings. Misty noticed his glances and blushed. 'He's your friend! Don't do anything you'd regret' she scolded herself. Trouble was brewing between the arragned couples. Serena could no longer control her jealousy. « You know what, Ash, enjoy your night with Misty ! I'm out. I thought we would spend a romantic evening together, but it seems that someone else caught your attention ! » She speeded toward the buffet and poured herself a large glass of fruit punch. Brock, once again feeling like the fifth wheel, left Ash and Misty alone, trying his luck with a little brunette lady. Misty didn't really know how to make this encounter less akward. They faced each other, but no one dared to take the first step. «Ehm, hi» what a meekly start. «Hi, Ash» Misty wasn't a whit better. «Would you like to dance? Or shall we have a snack ? » he asked her. She took his hand and led him to the dance floor. They found a tiny spot between the dancing couples. Misty didn't hesitate for a second, but wrapped her arms around Ash's neck. The young student felt slightly uncomfortable. He was plagued by a guilty conscience. He hadn't followed Serena and strangely enough, he felt no urge to win her back either. So he smiled at Misty and moved closer to her. Jessie and James had been watching the whole scenario. «The twerp's in love. Didn't we once advice him against putting himself in danger beacuse of the opposite sex?» James laughed out loud. « We did, but you know what ? This is the kind of trouble I really enjoy getting in to» he hold Jessie by her waist, pinning her closer while kissing her very hard. Her knees threatened to give way, James caresses drove her crazy. «Nevertheless, we need to put our plan into practice» he said and Team Rocket left the dance floor to get ready for their raid. «Hey Ash, do you want to take pictures like we used to do when we were kids?» Misty didn't even wait for his reply, but dragged her friend to the photo booth. The onslaught had somewhat subsided and the two of them entrechned themselves in this very small space, smiling into the camera. «Think of a cool pose» she asked him. Ash remembered the funny grimaces Haunter had taught him. « Great, now it's my turn» and before the camera could take a picture, Misty kissed Ash briefly on the lips. They were both perplexed. At that moment their friendship had reached another level. It didn't feel wrong, on the contrary, it was long overdue. « Sorry Ash » she blushed scarlet, « I didn't mean to overwhelm you, I just wanted to… » Ash placed a hand on her face, pulling her lips closer to his. She hesitated briefly, but then they decided to seal this moment with another kiss. Ash had never felt so free. Unknown feelings raged in him. He had always kept an eye on his friend, but as a young boy, the Pokémon-championships were his biggest goal, girls had absolutely no place in his life. He wanted more, he wanted to feel Misty's lips, but a deafening bang made him wake up from this dream. Ash pulled the curtain aside. The atmosphere had changed. Where students were celebrating and chatting before, there was chaos. Grunts entered from all sides, shot around with net canons, captured Pokémon and showed no leniency. The young people screamed, tried to protect their little companions, but they did not succeed. The first smoke bomb burst on the dance floor and a shrill laughter from the past caught up with Ash and Misty.« Prepare for trouble » Jessie, still dressed in a breathtaking burgundy gown, sicced Arbok on the students.«And make it double» James was surrounded by a dark purble cloud.« Team Rocket » Ash should have known. He and Pikachu go ready to fight.«To protect the world…» Jessie got shushed by the grunts. «Stop talking and help us!» they grouched. «Long time no see, twerps » with a clear goal in mind and the last hope in their hearts, the trio walked up to Ash and Misty, ready to take Pikachu into their custody. « We won't put up with that anymore, Team Rocket ! « Ash ordered Pikachu to strike the criminals with a giagantic thunder shock. He could hear various trainers asking their flying Pokémon to swirl away the smoke. The grunts couldn't compete with the mighty Pokémon. They continued to fight, but their strength waned. They were struck by water vortexes and lightning, got injured and torched. «Retreat! Retreat!» one of the evildoers shouted and little by little they left the hall to save their lives. «Hey! What do you think you're doing? Fight for Giovanni!» Jessie tried to change their minds, but the grunts had already left without prey. Now the trio was surrounded by angry students and their Pokémon. «What a mess, Team Rocket. I think you're going to blast off once again!» Ash laughed gloatingly, but Misty had discovered the pendant on Jessie's neck – a star. It seemed so familiar to her, but she couldn't place it properly.« Goodbye and don't come back ! » The group of students moved closer to Team Rocket. They threatened them with the strongest attacks of their Pokémon and once again the trio had to admit defeat. Now they sure were in need of explanation. The trio faced Giovanni's rebuke with shaking knees. «You had one job, Jessie, James and Meowth ! You failed ! What's the matter with you guys ? What about your brilliant plan ? It sucked, huh ? Who's responsible for this disaster ? » James was the first to find his voice again.£« It was Jessie's idea, Sir. We didn't know her plan would fail. We trusted her. Please, don't be to harsh on her,» Jessie flashed her eyes at James. Rage and bitter disappointment boiled in her. James had betrayed her to save his own butt. «Jessie, if you weren't Miyamoto's daughter, I'd have stashed the Zubats on you, but I want mercy. You and your partners are suspended for the next three months!» The call was interrupted. James smiled at Jessie. «We got off cheaply, right?» he wanted to high-five her, but she pierced him with the most hateful look she could give him. «Screw you, James!» With tears in her eyes, Jessie ran away. Something else happened that night. Although they had once again driven Team Rocket into flight, Misty could not find a restful sleep. Again and again she was haunted by curious dream pictures. Blurred figures, hearty laughter, warm embraces and the star pendant Jessie wore was dangling before her eyes. She rolled from one side of the bed to the other. Misty was restless. A familiar figure appeared, smiling at her. She was wearing the notorious necklace. «Good luck, my little girl. One day you'll be a famous water-Pokémon trainer» never had Misty felt so safe and secure in somebody's arms. Suddenly she realized who the star pendant belonged to. «MOM!» To be continued...

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Past and Future memories with you-Shiro Ship Week Day 3

I really want to do a full Sailor Moon au, though my ideas for it follow more of the live action version of it and yes, I actually watched it. I liked it, bad fight scenes aside. I tired to mix both versions, but it mostly leans on the original anime more. Hopefully you enjoy it anyway. Memories

Shiro watched Allura push his coffee table out of the way, not bothering to help her. She would just snap at him and remind him that she saved the city from monsters on an almost daily bases. He guessed the wedding planning was really getting to her.

“Ok, come here.” She ordered.

Shiro stepped up in front of her and let her take his hand and place one on her waist, her nails slightly digging into his other hand.

“Ok, now we are going to go through this dance over and over if we have to until it’s perfect.” As Allura said this, her grip on his hand started getting tighter and tighter until he had to put a stop to this.

Gently as he could, he pulled his hand away and took a step back. “Allura, sweetie, light of my life, moon to my earth, my sailor suited super hero. Don’t you think your taking this dance a bit too seriously? You’ve been stressed like crazy trying to plan this wedding.”

“Well it’s not my fault the new enemy decided to appear now!”

“Sweetie, I don’t care how perfect the wedding is. As long as I’m marrying you, that’s all that matters. Shouldn’t that be the only thing that matters? I mean to be honest, our first wedding wasn’t perfect.”

Allura rolled her eyes. “Shiro, the first time we got married, technically we eloped.”

True, but Shiro remembered it perfectly. Back when his name was Ryou and Allura’s name was Fara and they were star crossed lovers, in the most literal sense.

With the help of her personal guard, Princess Fara escaped for a day to Earth, the home of their enemy. But to Fara, it was a place of mystery. Then she met him. Prince Ryou, though she hadn’t known that then. To her, he was just a kind guy who helped her find her guards when separated, who treated her well. She tried to forget him when she found out, but when he came to the Moon and bumped into her again, it was hard. They met up more and more and before they knew it, they were in love. Ryou wanted to give up his place as prince to be with Fara, to help protect her when the Dark Kingdom set its sights on the Moon Kingdom. He had wanted to ask for her hand properly but with the battle growing closer and the Dark Kingdom growing stronger, it never seemed like the right time but he didn’t want to lose her. So he asked her to marry him, right then and there during one of the secret meetings. Fara said yes, knowing she could lose her love in a split second. It was only a week later the Dark Kingdom attacked the Moon and the two lovers lost their lives wanting nothing more than to protect each other.

It had been a sudden wedding, but seeing Fara, the girl who’d become his Allura standing there in the garden where they’d meet, surrounded by his favourite roses, he’d known then he wanted to marry her. Lotor had been surprised when he was called over and told that they were going to marry there, but the white haired leader of the Shitennou had seemed to give up on making sense when it came to his master and his lover.

“Surrounded by roses and moonlight, might not have been perfect in general but right then it was perfect for us wasn’t it?” Shiro asked.

Allura pouted slightly. “It was, but Shiro. Come on, I mean it seemed like not that long ago, Junko arrived here looking for help and then your future self sent you visions of me being killed on our wedding day to test you. That’s in our memories now which changes the future a bit. I don’t want that to be your main memory of our wedding to be that.”

That was a fair point. When things had been quite and it seemed like the Sailor Senshi would finally be able to take a breather and just live like the young adults they were, Junko arrived. They didn’t know that she was Allura and Shiro daughter, but they knew when she kept asking for Sailor Moon to help her find the Silver Crystal she thought she had lost, Shiro took her in.

Then the dreams came. They’d start out nice, him and Allura on their wedding day and then things would go south so quickly. It was like being back at the Moon Kingdom all over again as it was being attacked and he’d lost Fara. Allura had disappeared just as quickly and harsh words warned him away from Allura. So concerned for her safety, he had listened. But it was torture, especially knowing he was the main reason she’d cry. Even small Junko, who hadn’t known her parents were right in front of her, would childishly scold him for making Allura cry. He wanted to hate himself for ever hurting her, but he hated himself more for not realising it had been a twisted test sent by his future self to make sure he could protect Allura no matter what.

“Ok, fine. I get you wanting to erase that memory, but everything perfect? Allura, we’ve been through hell and high water. I got kidnapped by the Dark Kingdom, we lost our memories for a little while, the whole Junko thing happened. Nothing in our life is perfect. Would it be so terrible if this one little dance isn’t? I know you’ve planned everything else to be amazing.”

Allura started looking pacified. “I’m go a bit insane, aren’t I?”

“Well I’ll marry you either way, but I’m pretty sure it’s taking everything in Lance to keep Keith from snapping. Allura, we love you and we know you want this to be perfect but honey, no matter what happens, it’ll be perfect, because it’ll be ours. Not Fara and Ryou, not Neo Queen Allura and High King Takashi, just us, Shiro and Allura. We won’t be plagued by any bad memories because we’ll be making our own. Ok?”

Allura nodded. “Ok. But I am serious though, we have to practise this dance. We both know how clumsy I can be.”

“Ah yes, some things never change.” Shiro teased, laughing when Allura glared at him.

Allura messed with her phone for a moment before setting it on the arm of the couch and taking her place again. Shiro smiled as the music of their music box poured through the speakers. Their new allies, two of the Outer Planet Senshi, were skilled violinist and pianist and had promised to play the music from the music box Ryou had given Fara and that Shiro had given to Allura. The music might have been riddled with memories of their past life but they’d be able to make new ones, starting right there.

“Don’t look at your feet.” Shiro told Allura. “Just look at me. I haven’t let you fall yet, I’m not gonna start now.”

[joulethieves]

👉👉👉 Number 9 for BOTH ask posts. All 4 charas/balvaan are non-negotiable.

9 [Headcanon Meme]: General Physical Contact:

Fran -

“Be still, Balthier,” Fran chides, her long elegant fingers flitting across her partner’s in calculated observance. Beneath her touch, Balthier seethes and tenses. 

“Do move along, then, would you? Ah–” Another hiss of discomfort. He hates to sass her given the circumstances he needs her help (when does he not, really), but by Ultima the splinter lodged into his finger is likely the size of a Salikawood root and no that’s not an exaggeration Fran.

The spiking throb in his hand is not much compared to the icy look she gives him here. “You will do best to practice patience. Deep, is this, and was your folly.” Her long nails press along the tired redness of his calloused hands for an easy way to pry the splinter from the flesh. Around them, lazy dust motes float aimlessly in the warm sunbeams weaving through the trees. Her touch is soft but only he knows the hardness with which they possess, her hands curved around the stock and foregrip of a crossbow or haft of a spear.

“Ow!” Balthier gripes loudly with no qualms to his partner’s ears. He bites his lip as he feels a sickening slide of wood from his flesh, and the familiar warmth of cure magic following. She spoils him, he thinks. Balthier sighs in relief, presses his thumb to the finger experimentally. “My thanks, Fran.”

“A souvenier,” she says, holding up the thin spike of wood to the sun. “I shall add this to the tally of your debt.” Her smile is in her eyes. Balthier’s is on his lips when he responds.

“I am forever in your debt, my dear. This is no news.”

Balthier -

“The theatre is a touchy-feely place. Now touch each other.”

Ffamran’s drama teacher at the Akademy always has the best quips, and the fifteen year old can’t hide his grin at rehearsal today. All in all, this is a place he can be most himself, delving into the roles of others, the worlds of others, the lives of others. He watches his fellow castmates struggle with the forbidden boundary of physical contact the Empire preaches so vehemently against in the minds of youths, and here, the drama professor attempts to beat it out of them. And if they’re going to put on a good show, may as well. With his feet propped up against the back of a chair in the near-empty theatre (against his professor’s strict command, but he is several seats up staring at the stage, so what does he know) Ffamran grins. The scene before him that his classmates are rehearsing is an impassioned dance scene of two star-crossed lovers in disguise at a ball, with just this one night to make last. 

And, with how far away they’re apart in this awkward dance, Ffamran wagers the only thing lasting will be the laughter from the audience. No, no. This simply won’t do.

Ffamran stands and walks down the aisle towards stage right, and his professor eyes him. “Ffamran. Your father bred you into ballroom dance. Care to help these two out?”

Ffamran grins. “I’d be delighted. Here,” and he walks up the stairs to join the two teenagers. He grabs the boy’s wrist and yanks him away from the girl with poorly-masked impatience he cares not to smooth over, “Let me show you how it’s done.”

He pulls her close, the crinkle in his eyes holding a smugness that doesn’t ever quite leave from that moment on.

Penelo - 

Night terrors plague the orphan and oft she is left ripped from her sleep by the sounds of her own screams. For long, she wakes alone in a room above Migelo’s Sundries, and shivers despite the dry desert warmth until sleep finds her again whether she wants it to or not. 

When Vaan returns from Lowtown after a six month leave of absence, after she thought he was dead, after Migelo refused to let her go down to the Lowers after the Imperials littered the streets and cast angry Rabanastrans down below, the first thing they do is push the two modest cots together to make one “big” bed. And the first night he is back, freshly bathed and finally fed after Faram-knows-how-long, she wastes no time wrapping herself around her friend’s middle like a vice. She feels his abdomen reverberate as he chuckles. 

“Pen, if Lowtown didn’t kill me, you just might.”

Penelo squeezes harder. “I thought you were dead. I’m gonna hug you like this, get over it. Also, you’re a good little spoon.”

But there’s nothing to get over, and they fall asleep just like that, like they will every night.

Vaan -

“Y’know, once you guys start becoming sky pirates, I’m gonna have to start charging you for this,” Vaan grins as he lifts a Lowtown orphan no older than seven from the ground by her arms and plops her above his shoulders. She squeals in delight. 

“Take me to the uppers! Let’s go! I wanna show Penelo how tall I am!” she demands, tiny dirty hands gripping his flaxen locks with more force than necessary but he doesn’t complain. 

“Roger that, captain,” Vaan responds, holding her thin ankles with his hands before taking off. Behind him, the shouts of other orphans call down the magicite-lit alleys of Lowtown.

“Come back soon! Me next! I wanna go to the fountain!”

At Migelo’s, Vaan kicks the door open and bounces in with the girl bobbing on his shoulders in child-light squeals. “Pen, look how tall Lotto’s grown!”

Penelo wants to say something about not kicking doors open of the shop where they live for free but instead just stares up at Lotto, who is smiling down at her with a gap-toothed grin. 

“Wow! How’d she do that! She must be eating her vegetables, huh.”

Both orphans before Penelo scrunch up their noses. “Ew, no way!” they both say in unison, and Lotto collapses onto his head in a fit of giggles. Vaan squeezes her ankles and winks at Penelo. 

“Anyway, gotta run. I have a few more passengers to pick up.”

“Mind the door, would you, Vaan?”

“Man, that’s a nice door,” he comments before kicking it open. He’s dashing down the street, childish giggles in his wake. 

9 [Domestic Meme BalVaan]: Do they act different when they’re in private/public?

Balthier’s limbs splay langoriously about the rickety seating in the Whitecap as he nurses his Madhu, Fran opposite him. Too long has it been since they’ve stepped foot in Balfonheim and he can say with some fondness that he’s missed it. Long has their journey been and long will it continue to be - back in the web of sea and sky pirates makes him feel a bit like his old self, before ugly wrought faces of the past decided to snake themselves back into his happy life of sin and debauchery. 

Speaking of sin and debauchery, Balthier wonders where the errant street-orphan that burrowed his way like an insistent little sandbug into his bed last night is up to on their first afternoon in the city of pirates. He thinks of the night prior, and the Madhu isn’t the only reason he’s grinning into thin air. My, a lithe boy indeed. He’ll have to thank Penelo for teaching Vaan to bend like that, no doubt. 

“Ah,” Fran’s lilted voice pulls him from his reverie, which he also must thank her for, because blood was running south fast at the memory, “it does not take him long to find the heart of Balfonheim.” Fran is looking down from their balconied perch at the door, and Balthier follows her gaze to land right on said errant street-orphan. Balthier chuckles at the sight as Vaan enters. Why, he can nearly see the boy’s heart hammering out of his chest with the pure adrenaline of it all. He’s nearly beside himself, mouth agape in a toothy grin, head turning left and right as if he were a hatchling chocobo fresh out of the nest. How cute. Balthier watches and thinks to beckon him up, but nay - Vaan has an awful knack for finding him whether or not he wants to be, it won’t be long until–

Oh.

Oh no.

Balthier nearly knocks over a chair in his haste to stand as he watches a group of nearly five burly sea pirates approach the sunkissed Dalmascan immediately with a bodily interest nothing short of licentious. Oh dear oh no this is not to happen, Balthier thinks as he weaves with little grace or regard through the packed tavern. How foolish he was to think Vaan would not be immediately regarded as - well, there are lots of plundering jokes to be made, let’s just say that.

By the time Balthier pushes aside a burly Bangaa pirate that snarls at him, he has reached a wall of muscle. A wall of five heaping hunks of muscle, adorned with tattoos and reeking of fish. Their backs are to him as they surround Vaan and why are they so tall? Suddenly Balthier is reminded why he hates sea pirates. Not a subtle lot, are they.

“I’m Vaan!” he hears Vaan say in a response over the backs of the oafs before him.

“Vaan, eh? New here, are ya? We’ll have t’show you a-”

“Ah, Vaan.” Balthier’s voice is a smooth ripple over the clanging cacophony of their choppy diction. Just because they live on the sea doesn’t mean they must sound like it. Rough and tumble, too much for his liking. Balthier slides through the sea pirates like ice across glass, and hooks an arm around the boy’s shoulders, tugging him close, very close. “Was wondering what took you so long. Come, let us drink.” 

“Huh?” Vaan grunts, and Balthier can feel five pairs of eyes narrow on their forms. 

“Bah,” one says. “Balthier always gets the pretty ones.”

Balthier wagers he should recognize the voice but cares not to rifle through the files of his memory and place why exactly he knows any sea pirate personally. He writes off the recognition as a mere stamp of his glorious reputation, and leans his head against Vaan’s. His eyes flit across his newfound audience and he grins.

“Sorry lads,” he says in a way that implies he most certainly is not. “Finders keepers and all.” And here, he presses his lips to the crown of Vaan’s sunsoaked flaxen hair. “Come along, Vaan.”

“Huh?” he says again as Balthier drags him off. “Hey, I was making friends. Did you see that one guy? He had a freaking eyepatch.”

“Vaan,” Balthier continues, guiding him up the stairs to where Fran waits with a grin, “You’ve a lot to learn about what friends mean to men stuck with only each other on a boat in the middle of the Naldoan Sea for months on end. You can thank me for teaching you the easy way.”

[texanredrose]

*whispers* more arranged marriage AU

*whispers* wish granted.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 (here) / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Time stretched and thinned, indecipherable outside of the sensations plaguing her. She could only tell that it passed at all by vague snatches of a kind voice muttering in her ear as she shifted violently between extremes; one moment, her body was on fire, the heat stifling and consuming, and the next she was colder than even the tallest windswept peak of the northern most mountains in Atlas. Weiss grit her teeth, barely managing to remain conscious, though she ultimately couldn’t be sure she was aware of her surroundings at all, the lines between reality and manifestations of her imagination blurred together. At some points, it felt like she’d been plunged into the coldest winter, with only the familiar heat of her wife’s chi to stave off a freezing death, and then at others her own chi spread through every fiber of her being to keep the overwhelming heat from burning her alive. She shuddered, curling in on herself and remaining dimly aware of hands smoothing down her back or threading through her sweat slicked hair.

There were poisons that granted kinder fates than this, she mused idly as the extremes abated for just a moment, gifting her with a small reprieve of coherency. The Atlesian couldn’t feign surprise, though, at how it all turned out; she’d tasted something different when she took the first sip, something that went down far too smooth given the absence of sugar or milk. The lack of a hard bite to the strong tea warned that it wouldn’t be what she anticipated and, after a few minutes, a heady sensation akin to the sway of alcohol began affecting her senses. She hadn’t objected- continued drinking, even- partially to preserve the tentative, mutual respect between herself and Blake, and if she truly wished to remain in good standing with Yang and her Faunus allies, she would likely need to get used to their customary drink.

But it was too strong, and soon she lost control. Of the rampant thoughts swirling around her head, of the words tumbling from her mouth, and finally her own body, collapsing in a useless heap into the blonde’s arms while poorly trying to justify her actions. The Warrior Queen was livid, then and now, her tone betraying the rage burning bright enough to renew the Atlesian’s sweating, nearly forcing her to pull away from the warmth before her ice cold chi enveloped her once more to shield her from the worst of it.

“This crossed a line, Blake.” The blonde’s voice held a dangerous edge, the arm wrapped around her waist flexing subtly, as if it took conscious effort to keep it where it was. “I never would’ve agreed if you’d told me in the first place, debt or not.”

“I was just trying to get her to relax; I didn’t mean to take things this far.” There was a warble in the Faunus’ voice, as if she was on the verge of tears. It could’ve been anger to match Yang’s tone but the genuine distress that seemed almost palpable heavily discounted that possibility. “I’m sorry, Yang- I don’t know what else I can say-”

“She’s the one you should be apologizing to, and we’ll be lucky if she forgives either one of us!”

The warmth that she’d clung to throughout her dance with consciousness shifted and she reacted immediately, fingers reaching for any purchase available to keep her wife from leaving. There was no conscious thought to accompany the action, just an instinctual understanding that, as long as Yang stayed close, she’d survive the whole ordeal. As long as she was there, the Atlesian would be safe. A small whimper escaped her throat, the kind that would normally embarrass her to utter in the presence of others, but it effectively brought the room to silence, which was good in her opinion; the noise, even of hushed conversation, made her head pound all the harder.

“Weiss?” Cracking open her eyes and mentally cursing how bright the room seemed, the Atlesian looked up into concerned lilac orbs that had only recently returned to their normal color, vestiges of crimson remaining near the iris. The blonde was using her left arm to prop herself up and address those beyond the bed but remained on her side with her right arm around the smaller woman’s waist. It spoke of… protectiveness, if she could put a word to it. “Can you hear me?”

While her voice was softer this time around, the undercurrent of anger and despair lingered, forcing Weiss to try sitting up. Not that her body cooperated, her limbs seemingly made of lead and unresponsive. “Y-yes.”

Her vision blurred but she could make out how the woman’s shoulders dropped in relief though her expression pinched together. “I’m so sorry, Weiss. I swear, I didn’t- I shouldn’t have let this happen, I know but- I just-”

“Yang,” she said, mustering her strength to look at her wife, noting how the blonde seemed to tense up again. “Stop talking.”

Immediately, the warrior opened her mouth- either to agree or argue, though she suspected the former- but clicked it shut without a word escaping, merely nodding her assent. Her gaze darted away, as if contemplating removing herself from the bed and likely the room, but Weiss had enough strength to lightly tug on the woman’s shirt, discouraging that thought. Once the worst of her sickness passed, she would explain herself fully, but until then she could only hope what little she managed to accomplish would keep heads cool. This little escapade- although troublesome to a degree- didn’t warrant something as drastic as war, and while she wouldn’t normally suspect the blonde inclined to such measures, it remained difficult to tell sometimes. She’d read something about the Valen custom of paying one’s debts, and how refusing could be the ultimate sign of disrespect, so for Yang to imply she’d toss aside such a well regarded tradition for her sake… she remembered that moment in the clearing, how genuinely worried the warrior Queen had been at the thought of Weiss going into battle and the fury that had overtaken her when confronted with her father’s methods of child rearing their first night together. It really didn’t seem too far-fetched to think the blonde would defend her with physical means if necessary, even if that meant turning a blade on a friend.

But Yang would regret it in time, she thought, so the best course of action was to do what she could to keep the woman’s anger from boiling over. Keeping her still, silent, and allowing her to brood might not be the best method, but it was the only one available to her at the moment.

“Your Majesty.” Recognizing Blake’s voice, she turned, putting a hand on her wife’s arm to encourage her to allow the movement but not wanting to break contact completely. While not in the full throes of her fever at present, the heat radiating from Yang’s body seemed to keep her own chill in check. Much to her chagrin, they were not alone in the room; while she was aware Blake had to be there as well, she didn’t expect to see the Faunus’ parents standing by the door with Taiyang, the older generation of royalty observing the scene with trepidation. Any thought spared to her poor reaction to the Menagerian tea, and the lack of privacy regarding it, was quickly brushed aside as her gaze fell on Blake, the Princess taking a step towards the side of the bed before placing her right hand over her heart and dropping down to her right knee. “Please, accept my humblest apologies for my thoughtlessness. I am indebted to you and I swear to honor that debt whenever called upon.”

The words themselves were Valen, but the gestures Atlesian in nature- a knight or lesser lord pledging loyalty. It unnerved her, to some degree, how much of her former kingdom’s customs were known to the Faunus when so many Atlesians thought them creatures of myth. She almost thought she’d imagined the cat ears atop her head earlier, Blake’s countenance curiously absent of the appendages, but upon further inspection- her vision clearing for an all too brief moment- she realized that they were simply blending into the ebony of her hair, laid back in contrition.

“Rise,” she said, pleased that her voice seemed stronger and waiting until she could see amber eyes before continuing. “I will hold you in debt… and I accept your apology.” Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the energy she’d regained during her bout of unconsciousness draining quickly as she tried to force a smile. “Just… don’t serve me tea again… please.”

It was meant as a joke- her attempt at making light of the situation- but that didn’t seem to go over well with anyone else, unfortunately.

“Of course,” the Faunus replied with a frown twitching at her lips, bowing low before straightening and shifting her her attention to the blonde. “The Queen will need more rest to recover but she should be past the worst of it.” Her confidence flagged towards the end, looking over her shoulder towards her parents. It was difficult to tell if that stemmed from a lack of experience with negative reactions to the tea or perhaps the weight of Yang’s smoldering gaze upon her. “Right?”

“Yes, she’s out of the woods, so to speak.” Blake’s mother approached, setting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and smiling. “But a day’s rest will be good for her health.”

At the very mention of more sleep, her body seemed to make the decision for her, eyes falling closed as she tried to turn back towards Yang. With gentle hands, her wife helped, returning the smaller woman to her right side and ensuring she was comfortable before settling down herself. Something about the way the warrior continued to shift indicated that Yang wouldn’t find sleep easily, even as the others ushered themselves out of the room and turned out the lights.

“Yang?” Forcing her eyes open again, she looked up, the room plunged into the darkness of the night. Still, she could see the moonlight catching in lilac, just enough of the glow present to make out the frown on her wife’s face. “Get some sleep.” Her eyes fell shut, a sigh passing through her lips. “Everything… will be fine.”

The tender, reverential kiss pressed against her forehead spoke of the woman’s lingering hesitations, but Weiss couldn’t properly focus on them as her consciousness slipped away, returning her to the realm of slumber.

The brightness of the room registered even through her eyelids- something that might’ve made her wince the previous time she awoke. Her head ached, a dull throb radiating through her skull, but it didn’t seem to be caused by the sunlight no doubt streaming through the window, warming her back in a way that her wife wasn’t at present. Her brows furrowed, worry rising as she reached out blindly and found the space Yang previously occupied empty and cold. Although some of the lethargy remained, opening her eyes did enough to invigorate tired muscles, allowing her to slowly push herself up and glance around the room. It looked to be late afternoon, which meant she’d slept far too much and still lacked any desire to get out of bed. Yet, with Yang gone, it felt strange to just sit there and wait. Trying to pass the time alone in the house while the blonde saw to her guests the day before was a futile exercise itself; she couldn’t concentrate on reading, food had no appeal, and even going for a walk through the forest did nothing to lift her spirits. Every time she started to become distracted, her mind would revert to the look of hurt splayed across her wife’s face when Weiss sent her away, too stubborn to admit her own failings and forcing the blonde to worry because of it.

Shoulders slumped, she shuffled back to lean against the headboard as a frustrated sigh escaped her lips. All this trouble would’ve been avoided had she simply spoken up. The blonde would’ve listened- of course she would have; she practically hung on every word that left the Atlesian’s mouth- and Blake had an irrefutable point, because she was simply too kind to begrudge Weiss her fears, no matter how irrational. Just like with learning the forms and the breathing exercises to summon her chi, Yang would’ve patiently listened to every vented frustration and smiled, assuring her everything would be alright, offering a hand to help her up or a soft kiss against her temple in reassurance. There was nothing to fear in admitting the truth to her wife, yet her pride had clouded her judgement, her own inadequacies piling upon each other until they quite nearly buried her.

“Heavy thoughts make for a weary mind.” Her gaze snapped to the door as it was shouldered open, her father-in-law striding in bearing a tray laden with bowls, cups, and utensils. “But… I’m beginning to suspect you don’t have thoughts of any other kind.”

She straightened up, her shoulders forming a line the same as her spine while she watched him walk to the bedside, setting the tray down where Yang usually laid. Over the past two months, aside from an introduction and a few greetings between them, they hadn’t spoken or interacted, with Taiyang often motioning for his daughter to follow him into another room to discuss anything regarding Vale. He had a way of hanging back, lingering around in the shadows without appearing to be hiding, like a tangible ghost. Looking at him now, though, she could see where her wife followed closely in his footsteps. He wore an open brown vest over his tan tunic, a dragon etched in faded ink circling one bicep while clutching at a stylized, incomplete depiction of a heart. Shaggy blond bangs fell over his eyes, the light stubble on his chin making rounded cheeks look rugged, but his blue eyes were kind, filled with the same warmth as his daughter’s. They even had the same lopsided smile as he glanced her way while setting the tray down.

“I know it might be difficult, but you need to eat and recover your strength.” He uncovered one bowl, the rich smell making her stomach clench. “Here.”

She accepted it with a small nod, fighting not to lick her lips. She’d hardly touched her dinner the night before, eating mechanically for a few minutes before becoming entirely uninterested in the remainder and pushing it aside to retreat to the bedroom. Her fingers tingled from the heat of the broth warming the bowl and she had to set it in her lap as the weakness in her limbs began to rob her of strength, the blanket acting as a suitable barrier so she didn’t burn herself. Dumplings bobbed along the surface of the broth, vegetables occupying the spaces between and sharply reminding her of the tastes she’d grown accustomed to over the past two months while also bringing back memories of similar dishes from her youth. The castle cooks always made the best chicken stew around this time of year, as a final flavorful meal before food became rationed for the winter.

“When people say ‘it looks good enough to eat’, they usually intend on eating it, rather than just staring,” Taiyang said, his tone soft despite the jibe. He pulled a chair over to the bedside, offering her a set of chopsticks while uncovering his own bowl. The third one on the tray, she assumed, would be for Yang, whenever the blonde returned from wherever she went. Likely some messenger requesting an audience; she hoped the blonde was at least being cordial despite her no doubt shortened temper. “And I made it myself, so you don’t have to worry about getting poisoned again. Thankfully, my cooking isn’t that bad.” He paused, clicking his own set of chopsticks together twice. “You’re lucky it passed swiftly, by the way; most would still be burning with fever by now. You should take better care of yourself.”

Weiss lowered her eyes to her bowl even as the man began slurping his way through his meal. Her grip on the chopsticks tightened as the noise grated on her nerves, a dull ache in her chest as she thought of Yang. The blonde’s table manners were equally horrendous by Atlesian standards, but the woman obviously put effort into minimizing any action that had drawn the smallest of frowns from Weiss, usually with a sheepish lift to her lips and shoulders, a wordless apology. Honestly, she’d started to find it charming, the way her wife would forget herself sometimes, halfway through licking her fingers clean when she’d obviously catch herself and quickly try to hide her activities. Yang tried so hard for her… and what had she done in return? “It wasn’t my intention to get sick.”

“So, you stopped drinking the tea when you noticed it was tainted?” Taiyang raised a brow, popping a dumpling into his mouth.

As if the past several hours of misery weren’t enough, now she had her father-in-law’s disapproval twisting her gut even further. Her gaze dropped to her bowl, using the food within as a distraction. Weiss lifted it to her lips, quietly sipping the savory broth, nevermind that it wasn’t as cool as she’d prefer, and then using her chopsticks to pick out the vegetables first. Her father’s never-ending disappointment prepared her for times like this and she steeled herself quickly, swallowing down a mouthful so she could reply. “I overestimated my resilience. It won’t happen again, Sir.”

The man paused in his motions, a small chunk of chicken halfway to his mouth before being deposited back in his bowl, the dish set aside as he reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder. She looked him in the eye, always surprised to find them a warm blue- a hue she’d never seen before, despite her lineage.

“Weiss, I’m just glad you’re okay. I…” He sighed, shaking his head before running a hand through blond bangs, pushing them out of the way. “When Yang marched with me into battle for the first time, I was proud. Every Valen becomes a warrior and I was incredibly happy I could be with her when she truly took that step. It was a coming of age, in a way.” Taiyang glanced around the room, a sad smile tugging at his lips before his expression fell. “But the wars… changed my perspective. My little dragon’s always been reckless, head strong and plunging into danger with little thought to the consequences. I couldn’t even be surprised when Ruby took after her, running off to chase whatever had caught her fancy with nothing more than the head on her shoulders sometimes. I’m proud of how strong they’ve become, and how brave, but I’m a father above all else and I worry for my daughters.” His gaze drifted back to her, the hand on her shoulder squeezing gently. “I just want one of you to think before putting yourself in danger like that, even more so when it’s not needed. I’m far too young to be digging another grave.”

“Another…” The word slipped out, her curiosity piqued a moment before his phrasing registered in her mind. The way he said the words, and the inflection, seemed as though he counted her among his children, one of his reckless daughters. The Atlesian hadn’t thought she’d be accepted into the family so quickly outside of formal acknowledgement, but the genuine concern that clouded his eyes before despair overtook it made her think otherwise. Winter got that same look when they were younger, when the smaller of the duo failed to meet their father’s expectations and would inevitably face the consequences for her shortcomings- a sort of kinship that spoke of great affection.

“Yang hasn’t told you.” The man pressed his lips into a thin line, withdrawing his hand. “It doesn’t surprise me. It’s… a difficult subject-”

“Tai, this set hardly looks used!” Weiss’ attention snapped to the doorway as the Faunus Chieftain stepped through, peering into the interior of a box only a few inches deep but almost two feet wide and about as long. She’d thought they were alone in the house but was obviously wrong and she had to clamp down on her immediate reaction being to reach for Myrtenaster, set in its place on the desk not three feet from her. Were she stronger, she might’ve flinched, but as it was she managed to remain perfectly still while the Faunus approached. When he looked up, golden eyes brightened along with his smile. “Ah, so you’ve awoken! Good.” Setting the box down at the edge of the bed, he pulled over another chair and picked up the third bowl, forgoing a set of chopsticks in favor of a spoon. “I worried Tai made too much again; I don’t think I’d be able to keep eating double portions and keep my svelte frame.”

The blond chuckled, shaking his head at the comment, and neither seemed to notice her momentary confusion regarding the unfamiliar word, somehow mixed into the fluent Valen with such ease. Taiyang replied in that flowing language the Faunus used, repeating the word and laughing, so she busied herself with another mouthful of stew. That plan was interrupted, however, when the burly Chieftain leaned closer, his gaze piercing as it met hers. He tilted his head before nodding, apparently satisfied with whatever he saw.

“You’ve recovered well. By tomorrow, you’ll be back to full strength, I’d wager. Or, at the very least, be able to leave the bed without trouble.” He sat back, one hand beneath his bowl and easily dwarfing it while the other used the spoon to stir, the steam billowing up in puffs. “You take better to bed rest than Blake or Yang. The one fidgets like there’s no tomorrow and the other gets…” He paused, searching for the right word with a sardonic smile. “Moody, shall we say.”

“Where are they?” She ventured, keeping her voice even despite the slight tremble in her hands. Being confronted with a disappointed father-in-law upon awakening wasn’t bad enough, now she had one of the Faunus nobles judging her recovery from her ill advised endeavor. On top of that, she still worried what her wife might do; she seemed so angry, the red flashing in her eyes briefly, glowing like malevolent gems in her scrambled memories during the tea’s hold.

“Yang’s in the clearing, bleeding off her excess energy with some training. Her chi flared far too bright during the past day for her to sit here and stew.”

Taiyang looked up, curious. “Who’d you send out with her lunch?”

“The twins were hanging around the docks when we saw off Kali and Blake, so they volunteered. Knowing those two, they’ll challenge Yang to a fight before giving her the food.” He shook his head, the black mane cascading over his shoulders sent flying a little with the force of his laugh. “They’ll never learn.”

“In time, she’ll be grateful for the added exercise and they’re strong enough to weather her rage.” The blond ate a bit more of the stew, his movements purely mechanical as his eyes seemed fixated on a point in the distance, his mind many miles away. “They’ll be fine.”

The Chieftain nodded and spooned a bit of stew into his mouth, blowing on it a bit to cool the hot liquid. When he swallowed, those golden eyes found hers again, a small smile on his lips. “My wife and daughter send their best regards, by the way, though I’m not sure what that’s worth. I can assure you, Blake will be suitably punished upon their return but they were both needed back in Menagerie.”

She considered, briefly, asking for leniency for the Faunus Princess, but expected that the Chieftain’s mind wouldn’t be so easily swayed. It was mostly her fault, she thought, but one could argue she paid the price for her foolish decision spurned by fear. Instead, she offered a small smile, one she hoped would be taken as polite as she defaulted to the mannerisms she’d always known. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see them off, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, my dear, just call me Ghira! No need for formalities, right?” His genuine smile gave her a little hope. “Besides, it’s understandable,” he replied with a chuckle. “Were things different, they would’ve stayed to see you through your recovery, but I’m afraid the issues are rather pressing.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice as if someone might overhear. “Our court is in a bit of disarray, you see- something to do with our last tourney and some sign of disrespect since.” He shook his head, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. “I’m quite glad to stay out of it; thankfully, my part in the grand scheme of things dramatically reduced once we united Menagerie.” Her lightly elbowed Taiyang. “I’m a little surprised your daughter’s handling the crown so well, honestly; she never seemed the type to take such headaches with the patience she’s shown.”

Suitably snapped out of his trance, the blond stirred his food with his chopsticks. “Yang’s always been more level headed than she seems.” Her lips pulled back into a grin. “I think she just actively ignores her sense, some days.” The two of them laughed, leaving the young woman to watch, a tad curious. Seeing them side-by-side like this… she could see the overlap with their daughters- the same easy smile shared by the blondes, the tilting of their head shared by the Faunus- and it made perfect sense that Yang and Blake would be just as close. Weiss busied herself with her food, hunger falling away to nothingness as guilt filled the empty space in her her stomach; she continued eating because she needed to, forcing back the innate desire to simply set the food aside and retreat. After their amusement died down, the blond scrubbed at his nose, leaning back in his chair and looking at Weiss. “Yang’s taken you to the clearing, right? The one she uses for training?”

“Yes,” she replied warily, unsure if she could take much more guilt weighing down her soul. Some part of her scoffed- she was a Schnee, after all, and the disappointment of at least one parent remained a constant throughout her entire life; just because she changed continents didn’t mean that particular facet of her life was suddenly void- but the remainder kept those self admonishments locked away where she could deal with them later and met those blue eyes evenly, signaling she was fully prepared for the next round of chiding.

“The next time the two of you go out there, ask her about it.” Taiyang lowered his eyes back to his bowl, the blue misted over with unshed tears. “Maidens willing, she’ll tell you.”

Her brows furrowed initially, the non-sequitur throwing her off balance before she caught onto his meaning. He seemed to have picked up their earlier discussion where they’d left off, or near enough. Unfortunately, his cryptic directions were more confusing than a stilted answer might’ve been.

“Blast it all, Tai; whatever it is, just tell the poor girl.” The Faunus frowned, directing his gaze at the blond. “It’s not like you to withhold information like this. Has old age made you less talkative?”

Despite the friendliness of the banter, Taiyang kept his head down. “It’s not my place to tell her about Summer.”

He continued eating even as Ghira recoiled, his shoulders slumping as he turned his attention to his own bowl. Though she’d never experienced it herself- her grandfather passed away when she was very young, existing as nothing more than paintings in the castle’s hallways and a blurry figure in her earliest memories- Weiss could recognize the sadness of a lost loved one, a pain that never seemed to fade entirely, in their countenances. With every casualty report during the wars, she watched newly minted widows and bereaved parents become blanketed in the same weary silence that filled the room now, once their bargaining with the heavens failed to bring the departed back. Whoever Summer was, she meant a lot to the man, probably a lot to Yang as well, and was at least known by the Faunus.

Definitely a conversation for a later time, she thought as the sound of chopsticks and the clinking of a spoon filled in where conversation couldn’t. Once the blonde returned, she would likely want to talk- or, rather, apologize, again- for Weiss’ blunder, which would be another battle to wage while trying to explain herself, to justify her own actions. In hindsight, she wished she’d simply told Yang the truth instead of hiding it and resolved to not forget this lesson. She wasn’t sure if Vale could survive the consequences of its Queen’s fury were she to make another such misstep.

“Weiss?” She looked up, seeing Taiyang’s gesture towards her mostly empty bowl. All that remained at this point was about half of the broth. “Are you finished?”

Although it made her cringe internally, Weiss had watched enough Valens eat to understand that she was expected to drink the remnants straight from the bowl, tipping it back until nothing remained. It still seemed decidedly uncouth to her mind but, at the same time, she couldn’t turn down the nutrition given her situation. With only the slightest hesitation, she lifted the bowl’s rim to her lips and tilted it, drinking down the rest of her lunch before surrendering the empty container to her father-in-law. He collected up the other empty bowls and started for the door while Ghira handed her a cup that had cooled enough to feel pleasant against her palms.

“You’ll be happy to know this is a Valen drink, and it’s rather good,” he said with a slight smirk, picking up his own cup. “Legend says that the people of south east Vale were under attack by demons centuries ago and they prayed to the Maidens for help. In response, the Maidens gifted the people with a bush that produces tea leaves all year round and, depending on which season the leaves are harvested, it grants the drinker boons associated with the patron Maiden.” The Faunus gestured towards her in a toast. “While I’m not sure I put much stock in the old legend, this summer blend will boost your strength.”

She lifted the cup in return, smiling politely. It still seemed surreal to be alone in the same room as one of the Faunus, people she believed were themselves the products of myths and legends until a few short days ago, but she didn’t feel as nervous and alert as before. Perhaps it was a product of the lingering lethargy in her limbs, beckoning her back to bed now that she had a full belly. Resisting, Weiss cleared her throat softly. “Are you… very familiar with Vale’s legends?”

“Just the ones Tai taught me.” He swirled the pale yellow liquid around, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I’ve heard variations over the years from others but I’ve known Taiyang since I was a lad helping my father on his ship, so his versions are the ones I remember best.” Ghira chuckled. “It seems so long ago, now. Those were simpler times, when I thought I would be a merchant like my father and he hoped to be a woodsman like his.”

“Neither of your houses were noble?” Weiss furrowed her brows slightly, confused. Before civil war broke out in Mantle, her family served as stewards of the land, controlling a large swath of territory on the north side of Atlas. After the dust settled and all the remaining noble houses bent their knee to the Schnee crest, the noble lineages were redrawn to validate heroic deeds performed by knights serving their liege and so forth, but for the most part the lot in life for the people of her kingdom remained the same as their forefathers. She couldn’t imagine the shift from a merchant’s life to that of royalty.

It belatedly occurred to her that her word choice might’ve been poor, considering the look Ghira gave her before he busted out laughing. “Sometimes I forget that, despite our similarities, our people are worlds apart from one another. No, my dear, I’m no noble- not by blood, at least. I grew up with my father aboard his ships, learning to sail the seas and trade at ports all over Remnant.” He reached over, picking up the box from earlier as Taiyang returned to his seat. “Kali, on the other hand, now she was born to a noble bloodline.” For a moment, the Faunus seemed lost to recollection, a fond smile pulling at his lips. “I still remember the first time I met her; I’d put into the largest eastern port during Carnaval to sell my wares for a bit more coin. I didn’t know who she was at the time- she’d snuck out of the castle against her mother’s wishes, wanting to see the sights without a retinue of guards trailing after her- and I delayed weighing anchor for a fortnight just to talk to her in the gardens. My love for the sea and my trade dwindled even as my love for her grew; when she started courting me, I would’ve given up everything had she only asked.” Nodding to himself, Ghira looked up at her and the Atlesian couldn’t help but be taken aback by the earnest contentment in his expression. “She never did, though, and I’d still be running the business were it not for the civil war in Menagerie. I ended up turning over all my ships and cargo to a young bunny with a knack for figures, seeing as Blake preferred leading our people over the minutia of Mistrali import tax laws.” He paused to take a sip of his drink, tilting his head afterwards. “Now that I think on it, though, I haven’t talked to Velvet in some time; I hope she’s doing alright.”

At that, Taiyang seemed to perk up, his previous melancholy left behind as the light returned to his eyes. Another thing Yang must’ve inherited from her father. “She stopped by port not too long before the wedding, actually; she forged an alliance with a Vacuon merchant. You’ve heard of the Adel Shipping Company?”

“Of course!” Ghira laughed. “Back in the days before the word ‘enemy’ involved bloodshed, the Adels were my biggest competitor! She really managed to wrangle them into a deal?” His expression pinched into one of concern. “She’s not being taken advantage of, is she? Kali doesn’t usually require our merchants to disclose their off shore dealings- this is the first I’m hearing about this.”

While the alliance was news to Weiss as well, that name at least rang a bell with the Atlesian. The Adel Shipping Company was one of the few merchant businesses willing to pay the taxes to sell their wares on Atlas’ shores. Now, she supposed, she knew why; having contacts in so many kingdoms likely did wonders for their profits, even if they paid a little extra gold here and there, especially if they were using Faunus merchants to circumvent normal trade restrictions and utilize more direct routes than Atlesian merchants could.

“Trust me, she’s being treated fairly.” Taiyang smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t think Yang would stand for it otherwise; she might not want to start another war, but she has other ways of being… persuasive.”

“That she does.” Ghira hardly suppressed his grimace, a hint that perhaps some other things had happened while she was unconscious. She just hoped it wasn’t anything a little time couldn’t heal.

“That’s enough about mergers and ancient history.” The blond motioned towards the box. “Shall we play?”

Setting his drink aside, the Faunus nodded and opened the container in his lap, retrieving two small bowls and setting them on the bed before turning the box over and revealing the bottom of it. Now that she had a better view, Weiss could see the lines etched into the wood, little unmarked squares that seemed to resemble an oddly proportioned chess board. Her father-in-law uncovered one of the bowls, revealing several small stones as red as blood in one while the other had bright yellow ones.

“What is that?” The words left her mouth before she could think better of it, confusion evident in her tone.

“It’s a strategy game every Valen child learns,” the blond replied, pulling a few of the red stones out to show her. “It’s part of our warrior training- to teach patience, discipline, and critical thinking on the battlefield.” One corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. “Some pick it up better than others.”

“We have a similar game in Atlas.” She accepted one of the stones to inspect, surprised at the brilliant finish; she might’ve mistaken them for gems, given the way they caught the light. “I used to play with my sister.”

“You stopped playing?” Taiyang turned towards her while Ghira continued setting up the board, taking one of the yellow stones and placing it on one of the intersections made by the etched lines. “Why?”

“I had no one to play against,” she replied, offering a small shrug. “My sister had to attend the war meetings and my brother never cared for the game much.”

She left out the part about the other noble children being more interested in impressing her than playing the game, thinking a boldly foolish move or an obscure stratagem would elevate them in her eyes. The vast majority never constituted a real competition and the few who did have some idea how to play the game would never play her in earnest; better to gracefully concede defeat than risk earning the wrath of the royal family. Only Winter would play her without holding back and she could never defeat her elder sister, too adept at assisting their father in coordinating their real forces for Weiss to be anything close to a challenge. There were a few times when the heiress apparent would let her win, perhaps to build her confidence, but those were rare and hollow.

“I have the same problem.” Her father-in-law confessed with a small chuckle. “Yang’s usually busy and Ruby’s off in the north chasing who-knows-what.”

“And no one in the village will play you because you’ve beaten them too many times.” The Faunus pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your move.”

As Taiyang placed one of his own stones down, near the right corner closest to him, Weiss decided to take a chance. She needed to make amends, as much with Yang as with her father-in-law, and this appeared to be a step in the right direction. “Would you be willing to teach me how to play?”

Immediately, the blond looked over at her with a smile that lit up the room and reminded her all too much of her wife. “Of course!”

As the two players shifted their game so the Atlesian had a better vantage point, Taiyang launched into an explanation of the basic terms while she paid rapt attention. If nothing else, it would pass the time until Yang returned and the true reckoning began.

I… thought this would be shorter? Also, I am a terrible genie; I’ll probably grant your wish, but expect delivery 10-15 business days later, provided the moon and Jupiter align just right and no one steps on a crack for thirty-six hours. Reunion next installment, which I’ll try to have out before month’s end.

Also, the Valen tea everyone’s drinking here at the end is based off tieguanyin, a Chinese oolong tea that roughly translates to ‘Iron Goddess of Mercy’ and originated in Anxi, Fujin province, which is in the southeast part of China; the way the tea tastes varies depending on when it’s harvested, the part of Anxi it’s grown in, and how the leaves are treated, and there is a legend regarding the tea that basically says it was a gift from a Goddess (or a Bodhisattva). There. You learned something today.