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stravagatefaster · 2 years ago

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A (slightly chaotic) Stravaganza rewrite/adaptation idea

So, now that we’ve finished the 2023 Stravaganza liveblog and I’ve told you what my headcanons for the series are after its end, let’s look at how I would change the main story if I got the chance. (Thanks to @10-dutchies-12-bicycles for being the one third of the fandom that voted for this.)

This is not an outright rewrite. I’m approaching this from the point of view of “I’m a showrunner and I’m adapting Stravaganza into a tv show”. In this theoretical show there would be one season per book with ten 40-60 minute episodes in each. I can’t take credit for all the ideas I’m presenting here, some of them have been brainstormed with a friend of mine.

Most of this focuses on the last two books, but there would obviously be minor changes in the adaptation in the first seasons as well. These changes would include things like giving side characters more depth, switching the order of some events etc. Most of the main storylines will still stay the same unless stated otherwise.

Some scenes/storylines are very clear in my head, while others are still a big ????. I may fill in the blanks in the future.

Changes pre- season 5

More development on Barbara and Marco as characters.

Cesare has a crush on Luciano in season 2, but he tries his best to get rid of it when they go to university together. (It helps that Luciano gets very annoying when he’s missing Arianna.)

Ludo gets more development during season 4. Rodolfo is the one who finds out about his di Chimici side (and even sees the ring, realizing that Jacopo is Ludo’s father). Luciano only knows that Ludo’s father is some nobleman.

Alice breaks up with Sky at the end of season 4, though it is left a little unclear where they will go from there.

At the end of season 4 it’s revealed that Jago is gay and out of the closet, Matt was just very oblivious and insecure.

Season 5 (City of Ships)

The first thing I’d change in season 5 is Isabel’s character. I already laid out some possibilities for this in an earlier post, but I would probably make Charlie good at sports + STEM and Isabel good at arts + nerdy things so that her feelings of not being good enough have at least some basis in reality. Even Charlie himself sometimes thinks Isabel's interests are silly and not that important.

I would also change Isabel’s crush on Sky to be unrequited. Or (and this came to me just as I was typing this) maybe she’s ace and/or aro? I just don’t want the group to consist of couples, some people need to stay single.

On the Talian side, I would focus way more on Classe as a city. I’d give Isabel some time to get to know the city, but have some of the other characters already preparing for the upcoming battle from the start.

Filippo could just skip the part where he messes around with mosaics and go to Bellezza almost straight away, giving him and Beatrice a chance to actually develop their relationship.

I also want more pirate stuff. Don’t know how, but more pirate stuff.

I would skip the retcon that talismans can take you to different cities now. There’s not really any major plotline in book 5 that requires it anyway. Isabel can focus on Classe, and any instances where someone travels to another city that’s not their own can just be replaced with something else.

Instead Dethridge can use his thinking brain and come up with a theory that the gate between the worlds is getting weaker. That could be what replaces the city-hopping AND the time travel shenanigans.

Speaking of which, Charlie will stravagate but it’s resolved without the detour to 16th century England. We don’t need the time travel if it’s never really going to come up again.

A side effect of Isabel beginning to hang out with the Stravaganti is that Laura begins feeling very lonely. (In this version they’re not Ayesha’s friends since that’s never relevant to the plot anyway. We’re also removing the SH storyline and replacing it with this.)

Alice (who has grown distant from Georgia as well) notices Laura’s loneliness and the two become friends.

This is the point where we really mix things up: The Fortezza plotline starts while Isabel’s adventure is still going on.

Andrea’s father is who he thinks he is, and he somehow ends the story still being a pirate.

Jacopo is very sick, and it’s obvious he won’t live long. This worries Fabio, and he speaks about it with Rodolfo via the mirrors. Rodolfo, who knows about Ludo, advises Fabio to take a new talisman to England just in case. He doesn’t tell the reason, but his ~stravagante’s intuition~ tells him Ludo might make things complicated in Fortezza and wants to play things safe.

Laura buys this talisman from Mr. Goldsmith. Alice sees it and immediately knows what it is.

Alice fears that if Laura stravagates accidentally, she’ll end up just like the others and Alice will lose her as well. So instead she tells Laura about Talia, explaining that the whole thing is the reason why the others don’t care about them anymore. She even says that if Laura wants, she can show the talisman to the others and they’ll accept her into the group, but that it will be the only reason why they do.

Laura decides to stravagate, but insists that Alice sleeps over while she does. Before Fabio can see her, Laura slips away into the city and steals some clothes for herself. (Laura and Alice plan this all beforehand)

Fabio remains unaware that the new Stravagante has arrived.

While all of this is going on, Isabel’s adventure continues. None of the English Stravaganti notice anything wrong with Laura or Alice, since they no longer hang out together.

The season ends with Jacopo dying and Ludo arriving in Fortezza.

Season 6 (City of Swords)

The other Stravaganti have moved on with their lives, going back to normal life after Isabel’s adventure ended. Laura, however, has continued going to Fortezza. There she meets Ludo, who is now demanding the throne of Fortezza for himself. Laura finds herself crushing in Ludo, and supports him against Lucia.

Alice and Laura’s relationship continues to be slightly toxic and codependent. They both fear losing each other, but Laura doesn’t want to stop stravagating because she also wants to spend time with Ludo.

In this version Ludo does not return Laura’s feelings and is in fact quite oblivious to her feelings.

Fabio expresses his worry about Fortezza’s state to Rodolfo. They’re both a bit confused about why the talisman hasn’t brought in a new Stravagante.

Fabio even returns to Mr. Goldsmith’s shop to find out that the talisman has indeed been sold. He relays this information to Rodolfo, who stravagates to meet the English Stravaganti. He tells them about the new talisman and asks them to keep an eye out for the talisman. (They only have a very vague description of who bought it.)

The events in Talia continue largely as they did in the book. During the siege, Ludo’s side does something (I haven’t yet figured out what) which Laura does not approve of and she becomes disillusioned. She begins rethinking her crush on Ludo. This something is dangerous, and Laura ends up stabbed in her side.

Laura wanders around the streets of Fortezza, bleeding heavily and looking for a safe place to stravagate home. She finds an alley where she can lean against the wall, but just as she’s about to stravagate, she sees all the blood she’s losing and faints, the talisman slipping out of her hand.

Laura has asked Alice to stay over as often as she can, because the whole stravagating thing makes her nervous. (A big part of this is that she doesn’t have a mentor in Talia.) Laura’s parents are out on this particular night, leaving the girls to have a sleepover by themselves.

In the middle of the night Alice gets up to go use the toilet. When she gets back to Laura’s room, she sees the pool of blood on the sheets. Pulling back the covers, she sees the wound on her side. Alice remembers how Matt was beaten up when his talisman was taken from him, and she fears something similar might have happened to Laura. With one hand putting pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, Alice reaches for her phone.

Georgia wakes up in the middle of the night to her phone ringing. She answers it, and it takes her a moment to understand what Alice is telling her. Georgia wants to ask a million questions, but from the panic in Alice’s voice she hears that this is serious and that there is no time to be wasted.

Georgia stravagates to Remora, and through a game of telephone the Stravaganti get a message to Fabio.

Fabio sets out to find Laura. It takes him a while before he finds her passed out in the alley, her talisman next to her. He wakes her up for just long enough to help her hold her talisman.

Meanwhile Alice has just been panicking. She eventually gives in and calls an ambulance. As soon as the ambulance pulls up in front of the house, Laura wakes up.

Alice makes up a lie that the girls were hungry and went to the kitchen to make sandwiches, and a knife left on the counter slipped and hit Laura. The paramedics barely believe this but they’re too busy to question it too much.

The next day Alice explains everything to Georgia. She blames herself for what happened to Laura – if she hadn’t been selfish and scared of losing Laura, this wouldn’t have happened.

After hearing Alice and Laura’s story, everyone else realizes that they treated them badly and that perhaps Talia was taking up too much space in their lives.

The others insist that Laura has to stravagate and finish her mission, but she doesn’t want to do it. Even seeing Ludo again is not enough for her to go back. Alice, feeling guilty, convinces Laura to finish her mission. Laura agrees, but insists that Alice has to stay with her whenever she stravagates.

Laura returns to Fortezza and is properly introduced to Fabio. She has now fully realized that Ludo’s cause is not worth it, and agrees to deliver messages to the castle.

Meanwhile Ludo too is beginning to see that he has gone too far. He feels especially guilty about betraying his Manoush roots. He even has a dream about his mother, and eventually he decides to surrender before more people die because of him.

There’s a lot of ?????? here that I haven’t figured out. There’s a bit of logistics that needs sorting out in regards to a few characters.

In this season Dethridge has his theory that the gate between the worlds is becoming unstable (the dates are no longer matching up in the two worlds) because of the amount of active talismans. He fears that one more talisman or translation may make the whole thing collapse. (Listen, if the books can do the city-hopping retcon, I can do this)

This ties into the way everyone gets to the wedding. Luciano goes to England and explains to everyone that they can come to the wedding, but they must give up their talismans. They’ll get temporary talismans that they’ll have to destroy later. He gives everyone a day or two to think about it.

Everyone agrees to do it, though the decision is especially hard on Georgia and Nick. Luciano says that if they can get the gate stable again, they might be able to bring over new talismans.

The temporary talismans are pages from Luciano’s original notebook. Both Vicky and David also get a talisman, with Vicky getting the leftover pages and covers.

Again, there’s a bit of ???? in regards to order of events and logistics here. But Ludo doesn’t die – instead he ends up becoming a pirate with Andrea

Ludo doesn’t die, instead he ends up in Classe and becomes a gay pirate with Andrea.

Instead, the person who dies is Cesare (listen! listen! put the tomatoes down! trust me!). I’m not exactly sure how he dies, but it happens after the Stravaganti have gone back to England after the wedding. Nick and Georgia try to stay behind to be with him as he dies, but Cesare tells them to go home. He makes Luciano promise to tell his family that he loves them. Luciano and Getano stay with Cesare as he passes.

Seriously, this whole ending is full of ????. Cesare’s death will mean more than Ludo’s to the audience, but I want the rest of the ending to feel satisfying.

The series ends with a montage of first Talia, then England. In the Talian montage, we see the people we met along the way going on with their lives (we don’t see Luciano and Arianna yet).

Then we get a scene where the English Stravaganti (plus Vicky and David) burning Luciano’s notebook in a fire. Alice shows up as well and burns her talisman. They all watch the fire die out. Alice grabs Laura’s hand and the two leave together. We start the English montage by seeing Alice and Laura happy together. Isabel is going to the movies with Charlie, who happily listens to his sister talk about whatever she’s passionate about, having learned to appreciate her interests. Matt and Ayesha go on a ride in Matt’s car. Sky hugs his mother goodbye at the airport as he leaves for the US. Georgia and Nick are at the Mulhollands’ living room, where Vicky brings them tea.

The montage ends, and we get one final scene of Luciano and Arianna watching the fireworks from their balcony in Bellezza.

Roll credits.

Jk, there’s a mid-credit scene.

A café in London. Text on the screen says: Five years later. The café is full of people. Jago Jones, now a successful author, sits by himself in a corner, working on his laptop and drinking coffee. Someone walks over to him and points at the seat opposite him. “Is this seat free?” a familiar voice asks. Jago looks up at the stranger. “Sure,” he says with a smile. The camera pans out and Cesare, dressed in regular 21st century clothes, sits opposite Jago.

Continue credits. The end.

Ok so I feel like I owe you a bit of an explanation for that last scene so I’ll rewind.

Very early in season 2, Georgia will give Cesare… something. Maybe it’s another one of her piercings or something. It’s done in a way that will not draw attention to the fact that this is a potential talisman. Cesare continues to wear this object around his neck the entire series, and no attention is ever drawn to it. But attentive viewers will know that this is one big Chekov’s gun.

There will be other small things that foreshadow Cesare’s stravagating sprinkled through the series.

Before Cesare dies, Georgia somehow ends up speaking about her home in an attempt to comfort him. As he dies, Cesare holds his talisman in his hand, though again, no special attention is drawn to it. It’s one of those things you’ll catch on your second viewing.

There we go – my changes for a possible Stravaganza TV show. There are a lot of other minor details my friend and I have planned, but those are the most coherent and important changes I would make.

#this is even more confusing than my previous long post #stravaganza #isabel evans #alice greaves #laura reid #ludo vivoide #cesare montalbano #georgia o'grady #idek who all to tag I can't tag everyone??

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moltementi · 3 years ago

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nattering about: asscreed

grey morality

one of my favourite things about the ac series in a general sense, is just how grey everything is morally.

because, as i am fond of saying, perception is one hell of a drug.

and i mean this from a "both sides may genuinely think they are the better option for society, and function within that rule, but both sides also do morally reprehensible things and excuse them with said perception of need and necessity; yet also do they have the shining beacons of ‘true good/compassion’ within their ranks” standpoint.

under a read more cause i go on and on. and on. and on...

it’s actually pretty difficult to identify where the actual problem is, as it’s technically everywhere. a human condition. to survive, to protect, to ‘make things better’.

it’s easy to blame templars from a renaissance-to-modern standpoint, because it’s fairly clear capitalistic greed and power-hungry individuals ruled the roosts then.

roderigo and cesare ‘power mad’ borgia, laureano ‘slaver’ torres, reginald ‘isu obsessed’ birch, crawford ‘they should be grateful’ starrick, and alan ‘world domination thru aoe’ rikkin as examples.

whether or not they believed they were doing good for the world, it’s fairly cut and dry how fucked up they all were in some measure while going about it.

it’s also easy, to point out where the assassins have gone absolutely ape-shit over the [understandable] sense of losing freedom and free will, rights, and control, and feeling as if they are the sole protectors of humanity’s ability to choose. whether such is choosing to starve or work for pittance, the choice is theirs.

yes, hope jensen is one of these individuals [check out this little blurb if yer curious by @thatoneacblog, they’re a clever whip] that allows a gang to have the run of the place.

anyone with a stable logical brain cell and an ability to look objectively would look at that and go "hm. gangs are typically violent or self-serving. even if she established them with the rule of ‘do not harm the innocent’, no matter how she threatened them they are fundamentally human, and will be prone to the human inclination of survivalist-greed and power-mongering”. who defines ‘innocent’ to the masses? what is ‘guilty’?

i go any further and this will become a philosophical rabbit hole though, so i’ll refrain.

but you don’t just make gangs to improve people’s lives.

even if you did, any organization, or group with vague structure is going to be subject to the downfalls that are inherent to being said group. corruption of cause, wonky interpretations, skewed perception and translation of aforementioned cause or instruction.

as well as the inherent human nature of ‘survivalism’, which when played with perception, can range anywhere from stealing three apples for the day, to hoarding food stores, money, and resources out of the perceived need of them for either oneself, one’s house, or one’s village.

the brotherhood is driven by a more emotional force on the surface compared to most templars, and while such can be explained by the templar creed of order and logic, it does provide an explanation to how they can so easily lose sight of their original goal of ‘freedom, safety, and peace’ in their efforts to assert it.

it’s not a black and white. it never can be. and no one can really point in a specific direction and say ‘these people are right’ or the opposite. one may watch a mad commander of forces committing heinous murder, whilst another views it as a rescue from a hell they’ve lived their whole lives.

both are true. yet neither are fact.

#[ i am diving into meta like 15 years too late but y'all can fight me. ]#[ i may keep this series format just for ease of finding XD ]#[ ...there's also a reason i adore morally grey or charcoal sorts. 'every villain is a hero in their own mind'. it's fascinating. ]#( nattering about: asscreed )#meta /

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teecupangel · 1 year ago

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This is because @ma-du who tagged me on this post with the idea:

Everything is the same, but the gang is reborn as Marvel characters

I am going to assume this means that the characters' personalities stay the same, it's just that they have been reborn to live the lives of Marvel characters (Assassins versus Templars plot optional XD)

Alright.

First of all, we’ll focus on MCU characters because having the ability to choose from the entire Marvel roster will… well… it would require more research that would probably take too much time XD

Also, I will primarily be using Phase 1~3 MCU characters (focusing on the Avengers with some exceptions) because the post did have Infinity Saga MCU characters (yeah, that’s the main reason why).

Alright, let’s give everyone some new problems!

Desmond: Moon Knight. Okay, he’s the main reason why I said ‘with some exceptions’. I mean… come on. Come oooonnn. Oh course, Desmond will still suffer thru the Bleeding Episodes which would lead him to be the AC equivalent of Moon Knight. Not to mention, just imagine the absolute fuckery he will suffer thru when he meets up with the reincarnated versions of his ancestors while he still have his ancestors in his brain as the Bleeding Effect. Instead of Khonsu though, I suggest we go for Ra (for the sun irony) or, if you wanna stay in the Greco-Roman mythology that was strongest in Desmond Saga, may I suggest Minerva (to make Minerva suffer with him) or Dionysus?

Altaïr: Doctor Strange, hands down. Used to be an arrogant overachiever? Taken down a peg by some kind of tragedy? Still a bit of an asshole but now has an entire subject he could spend the rest of his life studying and be the top expert still? Becomes leader of a secret-ish organization trying to protect the world in what amounts to a short time all things considered? OP powers with a lot of glowing gold accents AND holds an OP artifact? Altaïr is, hands down, the nearest Doctor Strange we will have on this list. Sidenote: Malik gets Wong’s job of being the usually annoyed dude that has to keep Altaïr from bending the rules too much. The Sanctum Masters are the Rafiqs of Damascus and Jerusalem + Kadar. Karl Mordo will have to be Abbas (sorry Karl Mordo) while Al Mualim would either take the Ancient One (if we plan to keep him good in this one) or Kaecilius.

Ezio: Iron Man. He comes from a rich family with lots of connections, is actually smarter than people usually assume he is, flirts a lot but also carries a torch for a specific person in his life, and a tragedy in his life changed him. Of course, his father wasn’t a dick to him (up to you if we gonna kill Giovanni and Maria off for drama), Federico gets reborn as Happy (who is still Ezio’s brother but preferred to be his security officer), Claudia is still his sister but has Pepper Pott’s job (although, everyone in Auditore Industries knows it’s really Claudia who takes care of the everyday operation, Ezio is the inventor and the face of the company, Claudia is the shadow queen) and Cesare gets to be Justin Hammer. Petruccio can be the kid in Ironman 3 or he's just living his life as the third Auditore child who has cool 'toys' to help his weak body that his brother made for him.

Ratonhnhaké:ton: We can go for Hawkeye/Ronin, the normal human who can keep up with everything that’s happening (also, he would make a good parental figure for the Frye twins). Also, even if we call him ‘normal’, we all know he could kick everyone’s ass thru sheer determination and stubbornness alone. Another option would be Black Panther but I kinda want Adéwalé to be Black Panther?

Haytham: … is it weird I kinda want him to be Nick Fury? Like… he’s the all-time suffering man in charge who doesn’t actually have any authority over any of the superheroes he ‘conscripted’? I just want Haytham to suffer while, for once, not being on the other side.

Edward: Okay… I mean… I know there would be a Phase 1~3 character that would work for him, the easiest would be making him part of the Asgardian family drama but, may I suggest a non-MCU character? Daimon Helstrom. Because Edward’s actor Matt Ryan is sooo good as Constantine that I will always think of him as Constantine. Helstrom is the nearest Marvel equivalent to Constantine and he’s also a free agent type which works well with Edward’s character for most of Black Flag. (plus I got “canceled after a good season 1” deja vu with Helstrom as I did with Constantine). If you really want him to be part of Phase 1~3, Antman (Scott Lang) would work with Jenny taking the place of the daughter Cassie.

Shay: If Haytham is our Nick Fury, Shay gets to be his Maria Hill (second-in-command, normal human that can kick so much ass, and… that tight outfit) or Phil Coulson if you wanna go down the route of Shay doing his own thing.

Arno: Spider-Man because I think Ezio mentoring him would be a nice touch and… his first love Élise being a Templar is kinda similar to how Liz was the Vulture’s daughter. Still thinking about who his Ned should be though.

Evie and Jacob: Look, we’re talking about twins here so I’m pretty much obligated to make Evie and Jacob Wanda and Pietro. Although, this time, Jacob’s not gonna die. XD

Bayek: Steve Rogers (no, he will not be called Captain America, think of a more ‘universal’ superhero name) because he’s an all-around good guy, his default weapon in AC promotional images has him using a shield, and he started out as a man who just wanted to do what was right and protect his people that got sucked into the overarching plot because of a tragedy. Also… Aya as a badass normal human like Peggy Carter, hhhmmm?

Kassandra: You know, I was thinking that Kassandra could be Steve Rogers with Alexios becoming Winter Soldier. (Which I think would still work, we’ll just have to change Bayek into someone else…) But Kassandra has to be Captain Marvel, right? The OP powers and “not to be a lesbian but oh my god oh my god” vibes she gave off just made her suited to be Captain Marvel more.

Eivor: She’s gotta be reborn as Thor, right? Like… sure, Odin is right there but Eivor’s love for fighting and her loyalty to her people feels more like Thor than Odin. (Let’s not make AC Odin reborn as MCU Odin. I’d even go for Varin to be reborn as her father again or even Sigurd to have a bit of arrogance at this point)

Basim: Look. We all know Basim’s gonna be reborn as… Korg. Of course, I’m kidding. He’ll be reborn as Loki as we all expected. XD

Clay: Deadpool. He’s supposed to be dead, his mind got shattered after receiving his ‘superpowers’, and… he’s the only person in this cast other than Desmond that actually remembers who he was before. His whole ‘knows about the fourth wall’ shtick is connected to the fact that he still has access to the Calculations and that’s actually what broke his mind… again.

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underscoremagpie · 8 months ago

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It's your favorite white boy at it again with some more TMC bullshit. (Please help this Fandom has me by the throa Mark: Merman. He is 20 and Aro/Ace. He's Cis gender male, whoever he does enjoy to crossdress (specifically loving frilly-old timey looking light blue dresses). He uses He/Him. Mark is normal, about 5'9-5'10. More of an apple body type, but he mainly has a large/normal sized abdomen. He has a fish tail instead of legs, whoever he can get rid of it whenever he pleases. He will have weird fish like legs. He must stay in water (like a bathtub) for atleast an hour a day to stay hydrated. When his tail has been in water for over an hour and is hydrated, he can choose to just simply slip out of it. He's covered in glowing cyan freckle like dots, especially on his face. And he has Leafeon like ears (Made of very thick kelp that looks kind of like bunny ears. His tail is black with a blue and grey iridescent shine. He NEVER eats fish (He sees it as straight up cannibalism.) He can control water almost like a water bender, and can hold things in the water. It turns into a kind of jello in his hand, but it will start to spin in his hand. The spinning will pick up speed, until it goes from a big blob of water to a spinning ball of boiling water (without the heat.) The faster its spins and the more condensed it is, the more it hurts. He can breathe underwater and loves to swim, he never even wants to leave the ocean when they go. While Mark is surprisingly agile underwater, he's slightly more vulnerable. But he makes up with that with his speed. While he can understand fish, it is more so body language. Like he can tell if a whale is hurt, bored, that stuff. But fish can't talk to him (for obvious reasons.) His blood tastes like sea water, or a blueberry smoothie according to Cesar. Thanks to him having to be in water for an hour a day (at least) he died thanks to being dehydrated (being forced to go MAD.) His eyes and spots glow blue in the dark, so he sticks out like a sore thumb at night. Though it is quite the beautiful glow. He usually sleeps in a pool in his room.

TMC MYSTICS AU CHARACTER LORE/POWERZ

It's your favorite white boy at it again with some more TMC bullshit. (Please help this Fandom has me by the throat man 😱😭) this is basically an AU of Mandela with the characters being different and the lore being slightly different to the usual (I didn't want to change the original project to much) and for the record I obviously don't own Mandela catalogue (it was made by Alex Kister <3) and I just own the AU and character designs. IGNORE THE VERY CURSED BOOK COVER I MIGHT CHANGE IT LATTEERRRR 😭😭 The designs will be on their own oage (takes me a while to draw them) and I'll update this as much as possible! Obviously credit my art and or characters if you use the AU please! And TW for: bl00d, g0r3 descriptions, hallucinations, slight mention of drug use, trauma, uncanny descrptipons and possibly art, and murd3r. ALSO! If anyone has already made like vampire cesar (ik they have) merman mark, werwolf jonah, or kitsune Adam or any of the others/already made a mystics AU my apoligies! To my knowledge no one has done this yet alteast- and with all that being said, Enjoyyy! Cesar: Vampire. He is bodily 21 but god knows his actual age. He is demiromantic/pansexual (ace as well) and his body basically emits a scent like a love potion. How strong it is really depends on how he's feeling that day, the better hes feeling, the more it works. But, it doesn't work on mark weirdly enough, it is probably because of mark being a merman. He uses he/it pronouns. He is 5'6, and has an hourglass figure (thanks to him loving to wear corsets). He does have a femanine figure, but he is a cis-gender male. More-so having long legs and a bigger upper body (he has a broad chest.) Cesar has a gothic vampire aesthetic. he speaks fluent German and yes he does suck blood. he isn't allergic to garlic, whoever he is allergic to vinigar. (idk how to spell ;>;) he drinks a HELL OF A LOT of wine, because he can drink it from his fangs (they basically let it flow into his mouth) soo he ferments the blood he drinks into wine, and stores it in his fangs. he gets very itchy in the sun, and if he stays out for longer than 5 hours without protection, his skin will start to release sparks. He has dark red eyes that weirdly make people want to open up to him. He does have to file his fangs down every once in a while. And he cannot turn into a bat, but in his alternate form he has fuckin bat wings that are HUUUGGEEE. And yes, he does sleep in a coffin. He does not fall in love or anything, but he naturally has a flirty personality. Cesar mainly uses the weird scent he emits to get what he wants, like how kitsune will lure male victims in with their beauty, then kill them. When in his alternate form, he can shoot acid like poison from his wings, but it also burns him. More sooonnnzzz!

#tmc au #mandela catalogue au #tmc mystics au #mandela catalogue mystics au #tmc #mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #mystics au

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zalrb · 3 years ago

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Hey I'm a big fan of your blog. I have a question about something that I couldn't find in the master list. I don't want to make you repeat yourself so if you already talked about this please send me a link of your post. Pretty often writers of shows introduce ships In the beginning and stick to them In the end even though their moment has long passed and the 2nd ship thats introduced is way better. Ships that come to mind: leyton, chair, ted and robbin. Can you talk about ships where that isn't the case? Ships that were introduced 1st that maybe broke up and got back together in the end but it made sense and worked?

Hey! Yes, for sure, I sort of wrote a post about it that didn't go noticed, haha, but a lot of the ships I use also don't end up together

but I would say:

Matt and Julie (I explain why in the post)

So, this is an unconventional opinion but I think the way Tyra and Tim end in the series finale makes sense, they aren't necessarily together but they talk about a future where they may be together

Donna and Eric (it's implied they got back together)

Piper and Leo

Kyle and Maxine (also implied)

Mickey and Ian

Connor and Oliver

I think it does make sense that Mindy and Danny ended up back together

Jonah and Amy

I have no strong opinions about it but Summer and Seth same with Nathan and Haley

Even and Isak

Liz and Max

*takes a deep breath* I think Cersei and Jaime ending up together/dying together makes sense (doesn't mean I ship them, I just think narratively it did make sense)

Cesare and Lucrezia in an ... odd way, they didn't start off as a romantic couple obviously but it did start with them like this in the series pilot

and end with them like this in the series finale

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nerajaana · 4 years ago

Text

People: oOoOoh Arya’s so Badass! Yeas girlll stabbity stab stab. Lol such a psychopath. Wooo! Masculine privilege! too far gone yeas!

Me: *blinks* swordplay=strictly basics. Canonically good at math. A goddamned polyglot. Girl was out there searching for flowers and probably used her own taxonomic system to categorise those 36 flowers in the Neck. She’s learning poisons and how to gather information. Espionage stuff. Cunning, sneaky, quick on the feet with an ability to be self critical of the mistakes she made. Sees things as they are, the harsh painful truth, rather than try to look at it in a way to make herself feel better. Every kill was a last resort, a necessity. You wanna be hung up on Dareon’s death? Go ahead be my guest. Her father, or any of her brothers would have had to do it had they been in Winterfell. She took up the mantle since her brothers are all presumed dead (except for the one who himself is sworn to NW).

Them: I’m Jared, 19.

People: STAHP 😡 MAKING INCEST HAPPEN 🤬WITH JON💀

Me: *having flashbacks of the time when my brother screamed and growled through certain sections and me mumbling “adi nee chelli raa rey” tearfully*. Yeah, strictly platonic. Reminds me of that time when I was desperately hoping that it’s just regular brother-sister bonding for the Europeans when I saw that cesare x lucrezia gifset for the first time a couple of years ago 👀

People: ARYA BEING STRAIGHT IS AS MUCH A HEADCANON AS HER BEING ACE/ARO/TRANS IS. Where’s the evidence for her being straight, huh? WHERE?!

Me: Germ couldn’t have made it more obvious that Arya was appreciative of Gendry’s physique I mean in A-

Them: HETERONORMATIVITY 🤬🤬🤬🤬

People: LET ARYA REMAIN A TOMBOY FFS STOP MAKING HER FEMININE OR PRETTY!!

Me: Bu-but other than two preteens no one ever called Arya ugly though? Her lack of self esteem is what upsets us and the fandom hell bent on making Arya the ugly sister is what infuriates us. And not being a shining example of highborn fEmiNiTY makes her a tomboy? Do you even know the fucking difference between feminity and classism? And by modern standards that people here love to hold up to prosecute the characters, wouldn’t she be pretty far removed from the tomboy stereotype?

Them: Bloody hell stop sexualising a child and self inserting into her 👁👄👁

I can’t with you ninnies.

#listen it’s at least gonna be a one sided thing #cursed as it is #maybe it won’t even be in a good light #but at least a shred of it is gonna happen #germ could’ve yelled on the rooftops and it’d be less obvious #it’s ok to be in denial I completely understand #if you hate it that's absolutely ok too #but trying to shame us and accuse us of havin no morals won’t get y’all anywhere #and don’t even get me started on the rest of the horrendous takes #count your blessings that I didn’t go into a long winded talk #arya stark #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #jaan rants #jaan does nothing but rant these days

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ducavalentinos · 3 years ago

Note

So I stumbled onto your blog while doing some research for an assassins creed fic and I absolutely love your commentary and posts on the Boriga - It's a real eye opener to how heavily most media lean into the myths surrounding them (especially with how Cesare in the games is almost the exact opposite of his rl counterpart). Thank you so much for such great content ❤

Aw, what a nice message! You're welcome, I'm glad my blog was helpful in some way! 💜 And yeah, when it comes to media and history, be it tv shows, movies, historical fiction books, video games, even documentaries, it is important to be aware we are not consuming "real history", that's impossible to achieve, but rather we are consuming one interpretation of it, or a work of fiction, only loosely based on the real historical figures and their times. The main goal is, really, to entertain, it's to make money, it's to reconstruct a past according to the interests, personal views, and tastes of all those involved, as well as one that can resonate with a modern audience and modern issues, and in order to do that, a lot of "artistic liberties" have to be taken, a lot has to be simplified. These types of media end up relying on the traditional historical literature, which are heavily based on unfounded gossip, misconceptions and political propaganda, and in how certains historical figures and/or time periods are remembered in pop culture, so a high dose of skepticism is recommended when engaging with these materials, and I'd extend that to history itself, in the form of historical biographies. Cesare in AC Brotherhood is ridiculously historically inaccurate, and while I was playing it, I could pinpoint exactly which primary and secondary sources (with all their faults) the creators used to create his character and the actions that take place in the game. The aim, of course, was to show the Borgia family as the villains, (because they are remembered as the most scandalous and villainous family of the Italian Renaissance) Cesare being the main villain, the final boss the protagonist, who is "good" and on the "right" side, has to fight against. This terrible depraved family has to be taken down at the end, lol. It includes all kinds of modern takes and exploration about trendy themes of our times, imputing it on the characters of Rodrigo, Cesare and Lucrezia, and it was interesting to observe that. But as I said above, it is only inspired in the real people, their times and some events. At the end of the day, it is still only fiction, based on myths, rumours and incorrect, biased information that circulated and were written about Cesare and his family from people who were hostile to them, mostly for political reasons, but also due to their own prejudices regarding nationality, class, and judaism (the term marrano, a term used for converted Jews, can be found being used by contemporaries sometimes when they refered to Rodrigo and Cesare, as expression of their suspicion that was what they were, or as a way of insulting them). These writings got even more embellished and established as "truths" over time, after the Borgias had fell from power and died, with Cesare getting the worst of it from all sides. AC follows this tradition, but in the format of a video game, which was a new way, a new media where these myths, these common, fanciful notions about the Borgias were repeated and reinforced, with some pretty awesome scenery and gameplay.

#anon ask #ask answered #cesare borgia #ac: brotherhood #house borgia in fiction #house borgia in history #i guess a summary of this could be: the AC franchise is good in making fun cool games #i love how they create these worlds of the past #but yeah....they are no good with history; not with the Borgia family #nor with the manyy others historical figures featuring in their games #ah ooh also while playing this game i thought to myself: this is exactly what a game would look like #if sanuto; giustinian and cappello got together!#it was so funny to realize that #djsdjsjdjdsjdsj

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silvysartfulness · 3 years ago

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Omg I saw that you used to write for the assassin’s creed fandom and honestly what a throwback 😭 are they on livejournal?

Aahhh, this is the part where I have to admit, I don't think I ever put any of those drabbles online! It was more a fun thing me and wife used to do, writing very very short 5 minute one-shots based on single word-prompts.

Oh, wait! Apparently I actually still have them, in an old folder of mine! Will post under a cut. These are AC 1-3-brotherhood, primarily focused on the latter.

La Volpe/Cesare post the fall of the Borgia was my main rarepair ship in that fandom, so that's the main (if occasionally only implied) focus for a lot of these. (CW some dubcon/non-con under the cut, so be warned.) 😊

1 Unwillingness

It goes against everything he is, a greater challenge than any battlefield taken on. Snarling, eyes blazing his defiance, Cesare submits for now.

2 Memento

”Something to remember me by,” murmurs Volpe softly against the sensitive skin of his neck, and it's all Cesare can do not to yelp as those vicious teeth leave a bleeding gash in his ear.

3 Baseline

He still doesn't trust Machiavelli, Volpe muses, and it's equally clear Machiavelli doesn't trust him. Perhaps their shared love of secrecy is the one dependent thing about their relationship.

4 Sniper

He has shot guards from rooftops, towers, horseback, beams and the treacherous crumbling tops of ancient stone pillars. So why was it, muses Ezio afterward, that he hadn't even thought of pulling crossbow or gun out as his sworn enemies held their short council in the courtyard a few measly yards below his feet?

5 Birthplace

It is in Masyaf the order of Assassins was born into what it is now. Searching for answers Ezio sets out on the longest journey of his life, back to the beginning of all.

6 Denunciation

It is hard to remember what it was like to have faith, Cesare thinks, but easy to remember when it was lost. What God could ever work through the instrument that was Alexander VI, his father?

7 Distaste

”Volpe, you didn't!” Ezio exclaims, his face a mask of distaste. Volpe smirks.

”Oh, it was not at all bad. Cesare is well trained.”

Ezio shudders. ”That is exactly what bothers me!”

8 Elimination

Constantly, frustratingly one step behind, it is little Cesare can do as his allies are meticulously taken out by the Assassins one by one. And yet it is not until the last of those on his side willingly turn their backs on him that he realizes this battle is lost.

9 Bluntness

”You can do as I say,” says the master thief matter-of-factly, turning the vial of antidote over in his spindly fingers, ”or you can spend the night dying slowly while vomiting your innards all over the floor. The choice is yours.”

Pale with fury Cesare chooses to live.

10 Turf

The Assassins had been myth, legend, bed-time stories to frighten a young boy already afraid of the dark. But as they dealt an all but deadly blow to his father inside the Vatican itself, Cesare grimly declares war. Roma is his city, and all who oppose his rule must be swiftly and mercilessly dealt with.

11 Assassination

He burns for the ideals, fights the fight with passion and utter devotion. But when Shaun's shaking hands lower the suddenly impossibly heavy gun he knows something he'dnever even thought about (Innocence? Compassion? Humanity?) has perished as surely as that very first body at his feet.

12 Apprentice

He remembers a gangly youth skidding across slippery roof tiles, trying so hard to keep up and even harder to hide his inability to do so. La Volpe silently studies Il Mentore and considers he's no longer sure who would lead the way across the rooftops.

13 Debris

Ezio swears as the ceiling collapses over the bed he shared with Caterina until moments ago – his armor and weapons are buried in the rubble and will be hard to replace. He does not yet know they will be the least of his losses this day.

14 Scolding

Altaïr has never been one to accept blame or criticism for his actions, but something about the way Malik's not-there left arm twitches as to shake a not-there fist in his face as the man speaks makes him look away in hidden shame.

15 Torrent

The rain pours down over the city, making roofs and cobblestones alike wet and slippery. Volpe tugs his collar tighter around his shoulders against the biting cold and idly contemplates if a trip to the Castello would be worth the trouble.

16 Anchor

He cheats and steals and tells honeyed lies with the ease of a snake. But his eyes can be oceans and his touch velvet – sometimes Ezio wonders if his always restless, inspiration-ridden friend keeps Salai around just to remember what it's like to be human.

17 Truce

”It would be nice,” says Machiavelli evenly, ”if you would not so readily name yourself judge, jury and executioner the next time you fall victim to unfounded suspicion.”

”Fine,” mutters Volpe, frowning. ”It would be niceif you were not so secretive. And stop trying to steal my spies. Get your own.”

”Fine,” Machiavelli replies with a minute smirk.

Fellowship is knowing just when your brother-in-arms is lying.

18 Nook

There are many unknown and unseen hiding places among the rooftops of Florence. On his back, hair plastered against his face and hot breath against his ear, Giovanni concludes it's very handy that La Volpe always knows to find one when you need it.

19 Orgy

These parties are more to his father's tastes than his his, Cesare firmly tells himself, perhaps letting his eyes linger thoughtfully on the multitude of courtesans a moment longer than intended. Then a familiar slender hand grazes his thigh and he is reminded that the only person even close to matching his own schemes, cunning and skill is the woman on the throne next to his.

20 Scoff

”I spend all my time in the Animus,” Desmond frowns, ”Lucy's keeping an eye on Abstergo and Rebecca... hacks and stuff. What do youdo, really? Anyone could use, what, Google and Wikipedia?”

Shaun grins or at least bares his teeth.

”You mean Templar Central One and Two? No, it's called obtaining knowledge, Desmond - sifted like little gold nuggets of fact from the vast sands of ignorance you're so fond of burying your head in. Google can't help you there, I'm afraid.”

21 Scolding

At the time, Ezio always figured Giovanni's constant nagging and pleading with him to stay out of trouble was only the worrying of an overprotective father. Only later was he taught discretion was part of the ancient Assassin's creed. He never got very good at it, even so.

22 Bonfire

No-one is entirely sure why Julius II has tempered justice with mercy for now and opted for his enemy's imprisonment rather than death sentence. As far as la Volpe is concerned, the way Cesare goes pale whenever the topic is brought up is at least good for entertainment.

23 Nakedness

Being exposed holds no particular shame for him, but the walls and floor are freezing to the touch, draining precious warmth from his aching body. Now would be a prudent time for an accursed thief to show up with a blanket to bargain for.

24 Arbiter

It was funny, Machiavelli drily noted in his notebook, how God and Divine Justice so often were on the side of the biggest army with the sharpest swords.

25 Purgatory

The land burns, smoke choking the sky and tinting the sun a sickly shade of blood. It is with a cold and unfamiliar sense of foreboding Cesare hurries through the flames toward the towering walls of the fortress to escape this hell on earth – one way or another.

26 Fingernail

Ezio has more than his fair share of scars adorning his hardened body, some remembered more fondly than others. He would never dream to ask Caterina to trim her nails, or use them just a touch more carefully.

27 Slavery

The Creed dictates freedom of thought, and in his reckless youth Altaïr would use it as justification for any rash impulse. But the older he grows, the more he comes to realize freedom and all its crushing responsibility can be the harshest master of all.

28 Carnivore

When confronted on his nasty habit of biting, Volpe only grins and quips something about foxes and their nature. Cesare is tempted to snap he's often seen dirty foxes prowling the back streets for garbage, but can see where Volpe would go with that, and so holds his tongue.

29 Bluntness

Ezio is too flustered after his mother's blunt request he find other outlets than vaginas to realize the enthusiastic young artist at his side seems more than eager to offer a few suggestions on the particular subject.

30 Vow

He will live, Cesare vows. He will live, he will regain his freedom, his power and his army. At any cost. And then they will. All. Pay.

31 Blending

It was simply not fair, thought Machiavelli, that no matter how solid your acting, no matter how meticulousyour disguise, Volpe would immediately spot you in a crowd and grin at you. Clearly spying on the sly old fox called for more cunning means, he conceded as he made his way to the Rosa to shamelessly bribe Claudia for information.

32 Misconduct

“Not that we are in any particular hurry to the Castello,” Orsini says, the knuckles of his war-gauntlet quite pleasantly buried in Cesare's face, “but things would just be easier all around if you would stop squirming and came quietly.”

33 Ultimatum

“If you don't stop hogging my mp3-player,” Rebecca whispers softly in Shaun's ear, “I'll tell Lucy exactly whatyou and Desmond used her yoghurts for last night.”

34 Takeover

“Stop!” Lucrezia commands as the soldiers feed the paintings to the fire – already the image of a swan is crackling and fading to black amongst the flames. Such a waste of beauty. She hasn't even realized Cesare is standing behind her, fierce and bloodied after the battle, until he speaks.

“You like them?”

She nods, and he touches her cheek with a smile, careful not to stain her hair.

“Then they are yours. A memento of the day the Assassini fell.”

35 Afterlife

“I blame you for this,” says Cesare flatly as the imps re-heat the lake of boiling tar. Again. “There is no God, you said. No heaven and no hell, you said. Stupid old bastard.”

Rodrigo mutters something about Hell being other people, but will have to concede that in this trifling matter, yes, he was mistaken.

36 Distaste

He would rather be hated than forgotten, Cesare sullenly thinks, rubbing his stiff hands for warmth. Bony, filthy, with the matted long hair of a hermit falling into his face, he has to settle for the guards' contempt. At least it's better than pity.

37 Slavery

He isn't really paid, Leonardo thinks, merely kept alive, yes. Not really compensated as such. And so the construction of the intricate war-machines is really on the consciences of his masters, not his. Sting of guilt quenched he returns to the blueprints with renewed fevered enthusiasm.

38 Probation

“What's the catch”, asks Cesare with deepest suspicion.

“No catch,” Volpe assures, looking innocent. “Just a reward for your recent good behaviour. Keep it up and there may a meal and a hot bath in it for you, too.”

Cesare does not for a moment believe they are just going out 'to stretch their legs', but a meal does sound inviting. He follows.

39 Adversity

Ezio strongly disapproved of the idea of his little sister taking over the Rosa in Fiore, and he frankly can't say whether he is more disappointed or proud when it flourishes under her care.

40 Bluntness

“You are a thief,” Machiavelli growls, piqued into a rare display of anger. “A liar and a cheat and an honourless thief!”

Volpe grins.

“All those things. And I'm still better than you.”

41 Scheming

Ezio gave the Apple to Mario, who had it stolen by Cesare, who gave it to Leonardo, who found it plucked out of his helpless hands by the Pope and his daughter. He ponders life was easier when he was just a painter. The Apple is a thing of awe, but the intrigues in its wake make his head hurt.

42 Favorite

It wasn't that Cesare particularly hated his older brother. It was just that while he no longer childishly sought his father's approval, the position as the Pope's favorite son came with several practical perks. Unfortunately for Juan, that meant he simply had to go.

43 Truce

When things are civilized, they can be bearable, almost even pleasant. The food is good, the wine plentiful, and Volpe's skilled fingers all but gentle. An unspoken truce, no matter how temporary. But neither man ever forgets the truth, which is war.

44 Scour

They answer to no-one, self-proclaimed executioners beyond all law. Too much blood on their hands now. Just before sunrise Cesare gives the command to attack. The cleansing of Monteriggioni has begun.

45 Extrovert

To hold his own council and play his cards close to his heart has always been his way, and he knowshe is a master at his game. And yet, Machiavelli can grudgingly admit to himself, it isn't until the boisterous chaos in human guise that is Ezio bursts in on the Roman scene that he begins to see how they will win this war.

46 Protagonist

“I will avenge the cowardly, treacherous plot against my father,” he thinks. “I will root out all those involved, every single one, and I will kill them and all they stand for.”

No-one ever sets out to be a hero, only to do what is right.

For Cesare, the path ahead is clear.

47 Willpower

It is never easy. Every time Altaïr visits his (his!) bureau in Jerusalem, Malik has to struggle with himself not to slay the man in his sleep. On many a moonlit night, only a lifetime of discipline stays the blade in his white-knuckled hand.

But strangely, it does get easier over time.

48 Esacalation

At first it had been mere proof of his ability to go anywhere in Roma as well he pleased, the taunting and impotent rage in response a given bonus. After some time, forced still-furious intimacy gained through blackmail had appeared a logical step. Then force turned out redundant. As Cesare clings to him, nails biting into his arms and teeth bared with need, Volpe admits to himself he would never have suspected the caged Borgia would so willingly use him to sate his desires – nor the other way around.

49 Torrent

Raw grief fades over time, a broken heart healed into a dull ache. The thing that keeps Claudia from sleeping at night is not all she has lost, but her screaming frustration at not being able to take her fate, and that of those responsible, into her own hands.

50 Danger

The peaceful life he had envisioned just the evening before will have to wait, Ezio grimly decides, pressing a hand to his wounded shoulder and focusing on not falling off his horse. And despite the shock, grief and pain, it somehow feels right. He has lived this life so long, he isn't sure he remembers how not to.

51 Splattering

Leonardo likes to buy birds at the market and set them free, watching with dreaming eyes as they take to the endless sky. Once, Ezio surprises his friend with twenty white doves. Much belatedly he wishes he'd remembered that stressed pigeons prefer to lighten their load before taking off.

52 Ramification

“It is time you take responsibility for your actions,” Rodrigo snarls, and Cesare struggles with the impulse to scream, childishly, “But father, younever did!”

53 Concession

“I'm not sure we should...”

Lover and Thief, silhouettes in the dark, alone. A light touch.

“Come now. It will be good, I promise.”

“But, what if...”

“Ssh. Are we not both Assassins? Everything is permitted.”

His honed thief's nerves tingling with foreboding warnings, La Volpe allows Claudia to persuade him in the end, knowing Ezio will probably kill him, and that it will no doubt be worth it.

54 Leer

You can't even seehis face in the shadows beneath the cowl. And yet, Volpe just standing there outside the bars, nonchalantly leaning one hand against the wall, makes Cesare want to scream. Or punch him hard. Preferably both.

55 Whisper

Ezio reflects that there are few other voices he would instantly recognize by just a short, urgent uttering of his name. His hesitation to turn around stems not from uncertainty, but the childish wish to postpone the trial of his oldest friend's rumored treason just a few moments longer.

56 Absurdity

At first Ezio had felt confused, then worried and finally terrified. But as they've fled Florence and the man introducing himself as uncle Mario tells him that his family belongs to an ancient clan of legendary assassins, relief washes over him. Finally is clear it has all been an insane dream. He can't wait to wake up.

57 Experimentation

Leonardo da Vinci is a true genius, his brilliant mind always seeing the world through a lens of wonder. Nothing escapes his never-sated curiosity – but that a small poseable wooden mannequin could be used like that? Cesare is a man not easily impressed, but will have to admit the artist rarely fails to amaze.

58 Farewell

It is with uncharacteristic kindness Volpe kisses him, between shared gasps for air after their final tryst. A last goodbye before the approaching dawn will see Cesare on his way to exile in Spain.

”Growing sentimental, old fox?” the younger man scoffs at him. ”No need. I shall return soon enough, and repaint the walls of Roma with Assassin blood.”

Volpe just smiles. He has already helped Ezio prepare his own journey and knows with certainty that Cesare will never again return to Rome.

59 Turf

”Maybe Giovanni could get away with doing paperwork all day over in Florence,” Mario says, and his tone clearly states what he thinks about his brother's choice. ”But arround here we train Assassins, not accountants or delivery boys.”

Ezio's body has never ached as much in his life as it does after his first day of training with his uncle.

60 Smoothness

When she smiles her deep red lips are like tantalizing rose petals, framed by sun-ray golden hair. She is smooth, flawless, perfect. But every rose has its thorns, and Lucrezia's are laden with poison.

61 Kneeling

Every fiber of Ezio's body strains desperately to regain control as he jerks like a puppet on golden strings of light.

”You are lucky,” breathes Rodrigo in a low, husky growls, leaning hard on the staff after the battle, ”So verylucky, little Assassin, that I am in a hurry.”

As the dagger sinks into his guts, Ezio briefly thinks that indeed, it could have been so much worse.

62 Purgatory

The imps don't know whether to feel amused or put out that the screaming, flailing argument between father and son has by now escalated to the point they don't even seem to register the lake of boiling tar anymore. A bit of respect for good solid workmanship, is that too much to ask?

63 Lick

It has to be said in favour of Machiavelli's assassin reflexes that the unexpected lick at his ear out of the dark earns Volpe neither a jump or a shriek but a rapid fist to the nose.

Only half an hour later, safely home in his bedroom, does Niccolo allow himself to contemplate what might have otherwise transpired.

64 Bonfire

It is a sad thing, reflects Ezio in hindsight, older, wiser, that compared to all the priceless art and knowledge fed to fire during Savonarola's mad reign of Florence, the mere loss of a human life that ended it is remembered with little sense of loss or revulsion.

65 Last

After Mario's death, Ezio has felt the weight of being the last Auditore Assassin ever heavier on his shoulders. But as he watches Claudia fearlessly take her leap of faith, he wonders how he could ever have been blind enough to think himself alone.

66 Well

The guards in hot pursuit yell and stab at wells, haystacks and dark alleyways. From his perch on a rooftop Ezio smiles. He always did prefer to take to the sky.

67 Wrongdoer

As his support falters and the opposition grows ever bolder, Cesare becomes increasingly frustrated with their attacks and accusations. He would prefer to answer only for his own sins, not those of his dead father.

68 Deliberate

It really is getting unnerving, decides Machiavelli, the way Volpe has taken up the habit of commenting on his every observation with a frosty ”Indeed” or ”Yes, quitethe coincidence”. He wishes he could believe the man isn't doing it on purpose.

69 Counter

When he first arrives in Jerusalem, Altaïr can't quite shake the feeling that the only thing between him and certain death is a rather narrow, map-strewn desk.

70 Bribe

Cesare has always been good at striking a profitable bargain. Unfortunately Borgia as a currency is bitterly deflated, and these days he often have to sell himself too cheap for comfort. Even though it isa warm, snug blanket.

71 Chess

Cesare knows he is a brilliant strategist – not so much because of the expected praise from his subordinates as from the satisfactory number of pins currently adorning his map of Italy. He would like to believe himself modest in this, careful not allow hubris to cheat him of a victory. And yet he never knows whether to frown or laugh helplessly as the absent-minded artist all but appologetically check-mates his king time and time and time again.

72 Feel

Leonardo never knows how to feel when Cesare enters the room. At first he is apprehensive, but as weeks turn into months and he realizes he's not only allowed but encouraged to dream up grander designs than ever before he is thrilled.

In the end, seeing the Assassins' plans put into motion long before Cesare even knows the final battle has begun, he can only avert his eyes in regret.

73 Mister

”Outside the kingdom of God is the realm of men,” Salai says, leaning just an inch too close. ”You worship there, Messere?”

Only years of training his clueless look on Leonardo helps Ezio keep a straight face as he blankly waves for the boy to follow him.

74 Fine

There are simply too many guards around for a discreet kill, so Ezio grudlingly counts the florins and hands them over. How was heto know he wasn't allowed to park his horse there? Time to liberate another stable from its Borgia-tower shadow, he decides. Burning them all down is easier than keeping track of territories anyway.

75 Dog

If La Volpe is the fox and Ezio the bird of prey, Pantasilea ponders, then Bartolomeo reminds her of a large, lumbering dog. Faithful and loyal unto death, but with a booming bark and a vicious bite for those who threaten those dear to him.

76 Forgotten

When Volpe appears he is the first person Cesare has seen in days. He greets the thief with his usual brazen curses, careful not to let any trace of relief shine through. Of all things he is most afraid to be left alone to die; not slain out of hatred or need, but simply ignored and forgotten.

77 Changed

Had Ezio been the kind of man to think upon such things, he might have noticed the Cesare facing him atop the towering walls is not the self-assured young general he met a handful years previous in Roma. Tired-looking and hunched over he looks defeated even before the battle has begun. But Ezio is here for one single purpose alone, and has never been the kind of man to think of such things anyway.

78 Gondola

Antonio assures Leonardo that only from an extensive tour with his private gondola will the artist truly get to know his new home town. As it happens, a rocky two-hour boat ride later, Leonardo still hasn't really seen much of the city. But that's quite alright, as he happily agrees to repeat the endeavour soon again.

79 Casino

It never hurts to try to win Fortuna's favour when gambling is one of your favorite pastimes, Salai knows, but in this particular case divine intervention is quite a bit closer at hand. As long as you have La Volpe's favor, the dice at the Sleeping Fox will never let you down.

80 Soup

The first bowl of watery gruel ends up thrown in the guard's face with enough force to break his nose. The next morning the second splinters against the wall. Nearly a week passes before he forces himself to eat the fifth, to preserve his strength.

Cesare closes his eyes as he quickly raises the bowl to his face to wolf down the hundredth, before the reflection in the dull surface can show him what he has become.

81 Carrot

”Tell you what,” murmurs Volpe in the starving prisoner's ear, dangling the vegetable in front of his face, ”If you give me a good enough show I'll even let you keep it for supper when you're done.”

82 Madame

Volpe has to admit himself impressed – Claudia is shrewd, ruthless and horrifyingly practical, and stillmanages to be praised a good businesswoman rather than cursed a thief.

83 Kilt

Yes, Ezio decides as he flexes his body inside the unfamiliar weight of Romulus' armour, there is definitely a draft around his nether regions. Whatever the old Romans may have thought, a skirt of leather belts does notconstitute proper clothing.

After some swearing and creative arranging of his spare cloak he considers it may well look even moreof a skirt, but at least this cut preserves his manly dignity when he jumps.

84 Theft

He has stolen valuables, information, people and lives. La Volpe draws in a deep breath as he surveys Roma in the first light of morning, then exhales in satisfaction. She is the greatest city in the world, and she is all his for the taking.

#asksilvy #blast from the past

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stripper-patrick · 5 years ago

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Ride or Die Bitch☠️ Spooky Diaz

Warnings: smut, filth, major fluff, language, unprotected, angst, gun use, weed smoking, papi kink, blood warning

Song: me and my girlfriend- Tupac

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou

Relationship: Oscar Diaz x black plus sized reader

“Ma come here” Spooky calls me. I walk out to see Spooky sitting near the window with a blunt in his hand. He takes a puff letting a little bit of air blow before sucking it back in.

I watch the thin cloud of smoke excrete from his nostrils before grabbing the blunt and doing the same thing. Once I feel a buzz in my head I let the smoke go.

“I’m supposed to be meeting up to go handle some business tonight taking down the prophets” I pass back the blunt nodding

“I trust you enough to know that if something happens-“

“Oscar”

“If something happens you have the account pins and funds. My guns are in the safe and the code is your birthday and most importantly take care of Cesar”

“Of course”

“What?” I turn seeing Cesar at the door in his pajamas

“I’ve gotta handle some business so I trust Y/N to take care of you” he explains

“Don’t say it like that. You’ll be fine”

“I’m just being extra cautious”

“I know” Cesar hugs us both

“Go to bed you have school” Oscar smiles

“I’ll see you guys” He smiles. I kiss his head and watch him leave shutting the door behind him.

Oscar puts out the blunt blowing out the rest of the smoke and stands tall before me. He picks me up laying me on the bed settling between my legs.

He kisses my lips softly of course wrapping his large hand around my throat. Spooky smiles sitting on his knees while he pulls down my shorts. He pulls off his own pants and slides in easily. I’m always wet around him.

Spooky puts my legs on his should pulling me down so he’s real deep inside of me. He leans forward kissing me while throwing his hips. I grab the sheets moaning into our passionate kiss.

“You so tight” he moans. He grabs the back of my neck thrusting harder making me moan louder “be careful. Wouldn’t want Cesar to hear”

“Fuck him. Just fuck me” Spooky grabs the headboard

“Yes yes” I repeat

“Yea I’m killing that pussy aren’t I mamita”

“Yes papi” I moan. He rubs my clit making my body tense. My eyes close and he grabs my cheeks squishing them together “open your eyes and look at me when I make you feel this good”

I open them per his request and he smiles. His chain dangles in my face. Spooky stops flipping us around so I’m on top. He got me a chain with his name on it for this particular reason.

I rock and twirl my hips on his while his big hands knead and smack my ass. I bounce my ass dropping my head back.

Spooky grabs my chin again pulling me over him so my chain dangles in his face now. “I’m gonna bust fuck baby”

“Go head papi I want you to cum inside of me” I moan. He grabs my hips holding me down plunging upwards into me. I lean down gripping the pillow moaning in his mouth. He pulls my hair opening up my neck to leave open mouth kisses on me as I leak all over him. Spooky fills me up with his cum breathing heavily in my ear as I continue riding him noticing his thrusts are slowing down.

“Shit” now it’s his turn to grip the sheet. He shutters and I smile moaning.

“You look so hot when you cum” I smile. He smacks my ass again displaying that dimple filled smile. I get off and lay on his chest. Spooky grabs the blunt he put out and his lighter. He lights it up taking a puff just like before. He passes it to me and I do the same inhaling the high and exhaling the smoke.

We stay like this for a minute before his phone rings. He picks it up handing the blunt to me.

“Yo” he waits for a response then begins speaking in Spanish “voy a estar esperando”

He hangs up and I watch him get dressed “if I don’t text you or Cesar in an hour and a half. I love you. I’ll text you where I’ll be” he says kissing me.

“I love you more” I hold him in another kiss. Spooky dips off and I hear him tell Cesar the same thing. Even ‘I love you’. I get up putting out the blunt and get in the shower. Before doing so I set a timer for An hour and a half just like he said.

I wash up and come out tying up my hair. I go on my phone and hear a small knock on the door “come in”

Cesar emerges “you ok?”

“I don’t want Oscar to die” He sniffles. I extend my arms and he lays on my lap as I stroke his hair

“Me and you both know he is a fighter and won’t let anyone go anywhere without a hard fight. I won’t let anything happen to you or him”

My phone chimes and it’s from Oscar. It’s his location and a red heart. I send one back and hold Cesar until he falls asleep.

....

My timer went off 30 minutes ago and still nothing from Oscar. This isn’t like him. I go upstairs and grab some black sweatpants, a black hoodie and black shoes. I grab a black bandanna tying it around my mouth “Cesar get up”

He moves quickly looking at me in surprise “what are you doing”

“Go put on all black I may need you to drive us home”

“Who’s us”

“Me and Oscar”

...

I pull up to where Oscar sent us and see 3 people surrounded by him. He’s on the ground moving slowly and that’s when I see some blood. He looks up and I see his eye is swollen and mouth bloody.

“Don’t get out the car. Get behind the drivers seat. Just like I taught you. If you see a gun pointed at me. Shoot. Don’t hesitate or anything just do it. If you hit me I won’t be mad dead or alive” he nods. I grab the beretta 92 stuffing it in the back of my backs. I watch him kick Oscar in the gut. This was a set up. The man reveals his face and my eyes go wide. Ace.

I get out shutting the door quietly and I walk up behind a their big truck. I pull out a knife stabbing the driver in the neck where he silently bleeds. I pull my bandanna tight and see Ace, the leader of the prophet$, pull a gun to Oscars head.

I cock the gun getting the bullet ready. I’m not scared to use a gun I’ve done it before. I’ve killed someone before I just don’t flaunt it with a teardrop tattoo. When it’s my life or theirs don’t expect me to not be selfish about it.

I emerge pulling the gun to his head “let him go for I blow ya brains across this bitch” Ace looks at me with a smile

“Loca? I can’t believe you’d betray your people like this” he smiles sadistically “especially me. You don’t remember those fun times we had together? Being in that very truck and you’d be screaming my name all night long?”

“You were never my people I just got caught up with you and your bullshit”

“I don’t know why you’d even waste your breath with a Santos” Oscar is half conscious. I was never Prophet.

“Let. Him. Go” he looks at me dauntingly suddenly making a move which results in me pulling the trigger. I watch the blood splatter across the gravel and his big body falls to the ground with a thud. I put the gun in my back and pull Oscar up “come on baby I got you”

“We’re you a prophet?” He slurs stopping me.

“No” I get him to the car getting in the back with him

“Drive us home Cesar” He puts the car in drive and mashes the pedal speeding off

#smut #fluff #on my block #on my block smut #on my block fluff #spooky diaz #spooky smut #spooky #spoopy #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz #oscar diaz smut #cesar diaz imagine #cesar diaz #gang

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shireness-says · 4 years ago

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I have yearned for you (and I still do)

Summary: “There’s an irony, she thinks, to the situation they find themselves in now - he, the man who has it all together, and her, an increasingly hot mess.” Sometimes the things you need are right back where you started from. ~10.6k. Rated T for language. Also on Ao3.

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: For @welllpthisishappening, who doesn’t want to talk about the revival, and @snidgetsafan, who does. Behold: my pining-type thoughts! Thanks for your patience and encouragement as I stressed over this instead of working on my WIPs.

Post-revival, if that’s an issue for anyone. Title from a Frank Turner song yet again, because that’s how I roll. Extra thanks to L for her beta skills.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jess is the one who comes up with her name. In retrospect, that was probably a sign.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. From the moment the sonogram tech had announced congrats, it’s a girl , it had kind of been a done deal that she would be another Lorelai. Something something tradition. But with the reigning Lorelai still alive and well and so obviously having dibs on the full name, it’d been obvious that some sort of nickname was going to come into play.

There’d been a suggestion box in the diner after no small amount of twisting Luke’s arm, suggestions of how the heck they were supposed to shorten Lorelai, and then a follow-up poll of the options Rory had actually liked (because she was not calling the kid “Loreo, like Oreo!”, thank you, Cesar). It’d been nice, actually, and a good way to channel the collective energy of the denizens of Stars Hollow without being stopped on the street every three minutes when her feet already hurt like hell.

Anyways. In the polling, “Elle” had won, and Rory had actually really liked it. Something the kiddo had a chance to grow into - feminine, delicate yet strong, a name that would fit a little girl or a grown adult. And, c’mon - in the Gilmore household, they’ve always liked Legally Blonde anyways. There’s worse role models than Reese Witherspoon being unapologetically herself.

But.

The thing is, as much as Rory had though it was cute back when the kid was an unrealized idea, just a little mooch taking her energy and appetite for normal things, it’s a very different thing to hold her baby for the first time - her tiny girl, here and screaming and with wisps of the softest blonde hair. And she just can’t do it. It feels too on the nose, to call this little blonde baby Elle - like she’s about to doom this tiny person to a lifetime of not being taken seriously. She deserves better than that.

She doesn’t go nameless; it’s easy to fill out the birth certificate Lorelai Richard Gilmore , even if the nurse casts a funny look at the choice of middle name. She’s never been a staunch traditionalist anyways, and Rory had wanted to honor her grandfather regardless if the baby had been a boy or a girl. He would have loved having a great-granddaughter to spoil in the way he and Grandma had been denied when she was a baby - and besides, even if Emily shakes her head about the unconventional choice, it makes her smile fondly too.

Still - there’s a difference between what someone is named and what someone is called, and the latter for the youngest Lorelai is still a great big question mark. Rory runs back through the list of runners up, but nothing fits .

“I was supposed to have this figured out by now,” she whines to Jess when he drops by to visit and meet the baby. He’s been a huge help as she tries to write her book, and after years of awkward “what the hell even are we”, Rory feels like they’re finally back in a good place, back to being friends. She likes being friends, like him being one of her people again, even if the 2nd trimester horniness and wanting to jump his bones never really went away. But she’s not really in a place to think about that right now. “Aren’t I supposed to be able to just, like, look at her and know what her destined name is supposed to be?”

“Yes, because motherhood automatically grants mystical powers,” he replies wryly. “I think that whole thing is a myth, Gilmore.”

He looks good holding a baby - surprisingly comfortable too. It makes her realize, not for the first time, that he built himself a whole life she doesn’t know about while she ran around the world, trying to figure out what would make her happy - a life with a business and a purpose and probably friends with kids. Not at all the boy she met more than a decade ago.

(It is something she tries not to focus too much on, for fear of where it might lead - to the realization that she may not really know him at all, or more dangerously, the realization that she wants to.)

“Ivy,” he says out of nowhere. “You should call her Ivy.”

“Ivy?” It hadn’t been one of the names any suggested before, but in a weird way, it fits. Something soft and strong and neutral, a name that could become anything. A name she can make her own.

“Yeah. I mean, she’s Lorelai the fourth, right? Lorelai the fourth. Lorelai I-V. Ivy.”

And it’s - well, the name is so right, but the logic behind it is so Jess. Because he’s always been clever like that - not even aware that there’s a box he’s thinking outside of. She likes, too, that now that he’s made the suggestion, he doesn’t try to backtrack or explain anything away, try to tell her she doesn’t have to listen. He knows she knows that. Jess has never been one to fill a silence just because it exists.

“I like that,” she finally says. “Ivy Gilmore.”

“Then congratulations - it’s a name.”

———

Telling Logan had been hard - harder than making herself take the test, harder than telling her mom. Because they’re not an item anymore, you know? They’ve gone their separate ways, ended whatever dynamic they’ve had going the last couple of years, and under normal circumstances, it would be easier to keep her distance. No contact, end it all firmly and definitively and for good .

A baby complicates that, and throws that possibility straight out the window.

She can’t really say she’s disappointed in Logan’s response, not when it plays out pretty much exactly the way Rory assumed it would. Nothing changes; they don’t get back together, and he doesn’t leave the French heiress. Rory isn’t certain she’d want either of those things anyways. He’d offered to support her in whatever decision she made, and that was more or less it. He’s never been great with emotions, and having a kid doesn’t show signs of changing that.

(Rory hadn’t expected him to be a hands-on partner in this - not even remotely - but it still aches, knowing this is the beginning of what will be a pattern in their child’s life.)

Now, all these months later, Rory texts him a picture from the hospital once the parade of visitors has gone home. Even in the midst of that disappointment, he deserves to know.

Lorelai Richard Gilmore IV. 7 lbs, 2 oz. We’re calling her Ivy.

His reply comes through a half hour later. Congrats, Ace - she’s beautiful, just like her mother.

(She’ll never admit it later - but when she receives his response, it takes everything in her not to cry.)

———

It’s nerve-wracking, bringing Ivy home from the hospital and back to her mom’s house - like Rory shouldn’t be trusted to leave with such precious cargo. The hospital had been safe , and the big wide world out there feels full of dangers as she carefully steps out into the June sunshine, the baby carrier in hand. It’s this moment, of all times, that makes Rory feel like a parent for the first time - like it’s her sole job to protect and nurture this tiny person that she made.

Lorelai and Luke’s is just a temporary stopping place, just until Rory can get her feet beneath her in this whole motherhood thing. It’s terrifying, knowing that she’ll have to be doing this on her own soon enough. She’s taken the classes and read countless books and websites, but it’s a very different thing once you’re handed a tiny, wrinkly baby and are expected to figure it out.

“How did you do it?” she asks her mom that first night, sitting in the kitchen together while Ivy nurses and Luke’s asleep upstairs. “I mean, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and I’m in my thirties. You were sixteen .”

“I did it because I had to, babe,” her mom replies, reaching across the table to tuck a lock of hair back behind Rory’s ear. “I knew I wanted to give you the best life I could, so… I had to figure it out. Looking back now, Mom and Dad would have helped, and they tried, but I didn’t want that. I mean, we’re okay-ish now, but I didn’t want you growing up under the same pressure I did. So I went out and figured it out because I had to. You were the making of me, kiddo. And I’ll tell you now - that kid’s going to change you in ways you can’t even imagine now. And it’ll all be worth it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I look at you every day, and I’m so proud - and I made that. Pretty cool, huh? And each day as she gets older, you’re going to get to do that too. You’ll figure this out. I know you will. You’re going to be a great mom.”

By the time Lorelai is done, Rory feels tears trying to form in her eyes. Something something hormones. “Thanks, mom.”

“Anytime, hon.”

———

She’s living in Luke’s old apartment above the diner. It’s the illusion of independence - it doesn’t feel like she’s living with her mother any more, especially now that she’s got a kid of her own, but she’s not paying rent either (no matter how much she had offered). The truth of the matter is that, except for Ivy’s things, she’s living out of boxes. There hadn’t been any sense to staying in New York, not when her income stream is so up in the air; besides, as much as Rory had loved the city for herself, she isn’t sure she’d want to raise her daughter there. Stars Hollow may be a bit loony, like a place out of a YA coming-of-age novel, but there’d been love in every single corner. She’d wanted that for Ivy, even when she was just two lines on a test stick - to grow up with this whole zany extended family. Rory’s own blood family is tiny, and even if Logan was eager to be involved, his isn’t much bigger; Ivy can use all the proto-aunts and -uncles and -grandparents she can gather.

(Rory does feel some guilt on the rent front, but Luke wouldn’t hear of it. He’d waved it off in that grumpy way of his, some excuse about being too old to have a crying infant disturbing their sleep in the Queen Anne where Rory had grown up, but she remembers the way Luke had once called her a little bit his . This is his way of quietly looking after his grown almost-daughter - and looking at it like that, there’s no way she’d turn down the offer.)

(She knows for certain it’s all an excuse after Ivy is born, when Luke turns into every inch the doting grandfather, bouncing and cooing at the baby every time she expresses even the mildest displeasure. Too old for crying infants , her ass.)

The apartment is the same as ever, from the block letters on the door to the dark wood furniture inside. Honestly, it looks like the only thing Luke has updated in the past decade was replacing the refrigerator, and Rory doubts that was just on a whim. There’s a comfort to that same-ness - of knowing that some things never change, and don’t have to. She has so many memories up here, especially from that period when she and Jess had been dating. The blankets on the spare bed are different now - lavender and spring green for April, instead of the bachelor plaids Luke had scrounged up when Jess had moved in - but the couch is the same, and the kitchen table where they’d pretended to study, and the tiny closet of a bathroom where she’d try desperately to straighten her hair before heading home. A simpler time, in some ways - but a more complicated one too. Rory had been the town princess then, the perennial good girl , and for all of his brains and sarcastic charm, Jess had been a mess in many ways. Now, things are a bit more grey - where Rory doesn’t quite have her act together, and Jess is the one with a life and a career and a calling. She’s proud of him in so many ways, but it leaves her feeling off balance, and as much of that is about her own adrift state, there’s no denying that part of it is about this unexpected reversal. So much will never change in Stars Hollow - but somehow, this has.

———

Logan finally comes stateside, to Stars Hollow, when Ivy is a little over five weeks old.

They meet at the Dragonfly, because it seems the most neutral spot. Lorelai may have capital-o Opinions, but she’ll keep them to herself if Rory asks, and it’s still better than pulling him through the diner up to the apartment, where overprotective townies will glare and Kirk might try to challenge him to a duel for her honor or something. No one ever knows with Kirk.

Logan meeting Ivy is… he makes all the right moves in the moment, you know? He smiles and bounces her and looks at her like some sort of precious mystery. But Rory can see too, already, from years of experience, that he’s got the makings of another Christopher. As much as she knows that he’ll love the kid they made, and do his best to take care of her, he’s not ready, and Rory can’t force him to be. Even in his thirties, Logan has a lot of growing up to do.

“I went ahead and set up a fund for her college,” he makes sure to say before he departs, flying out of Boston that very afternoon to take care of some business in LA, “but you’ll let me know if she needs anything, right Ace? Or if you do?”

“I promise. Scout’s honor, cross my heart.”

“She really is beautiful, Rory. Thanks for this - letting me be a part of it.”

And then, before she knows it, he’s gone.

(She’ll never regret the times they were together, not when it brought her their daughter, but Ivy has made it all too obvious why they never would have lasted. Rory has long since stopped wondering what things would have been like if she had said yes, all those years ago when Logan had proposed. This is proof enough - a life spent hoping for something he’s not willing or able to give, and watching him climb onto an airplane over and over again.)

(In some moments, Rory almost thinks Logan’s absence is for the best when she remembers the utter horror that is his family - the way his mother doesn’t care about anything but her creature comforts, and Mitchum doesn’t care about anything but himself and his impossible standards. Rory may feel guilty about it, but sometimes, she’s relieved that Logan’s absence means that Ivy will never have to face their condescension the way Rory had to with Straub and Francine. It is a small blessing to be found in the tragedy that she’s afraid Logan’s involvement, and lack thereof, will turn into.)

When Jess comes by later to talk about the book and probably watch a movie, he finds her crying in the kitchen, trying to keep quiet so as not to wake Ivy. He pulls her into his arms seemingly without a second thought, and Rory lets herself melt into the hug, just for the moment.

“It’s leftover hormones,” she tries to excuse, but they both know better. They’re both products of absentee fathers, after all, both know the ways that can shape a child. Jess knows full well what happened today; it’s probably why he’s here tonight, to pull her from the worst of her self pity. They both know her tears aren’t for herself, for the death of a relationship that’s long since ended; they’re for Ivy, and a relationship that maybe won’t start.

“She won’t be alone,” he makes sure to tell her once Rory’s calmed down enough to be rational. “I mean, even beyond you and your mom and Emily, there’s Luke and Lane’s husband and a whole host of other guys who can step up. Hell, Kirk in all his weird glory has probably got some qualification to adopt her. And you know I’ll be here, as long as you want me to be.”

“Yeah?” Rory’s throat is still clogged, but she’ll take it as a win that she didn’t sniffle. It’s too significant a moment to mar that way.

“What can I say, she’s cute enough to hold my attention.”

“You always were a sucker for a Gilmore,” she laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah, well, someone’s got to make sure you’re aware vegetables exist.”

And just like that, even as Rory’s tears are still dissipating, the mood is lifted into safer territory. That’s Jess, though, isn’t it? All that emotion, hidden behind a front of sarcasm. After all of the mistakes of his youth, he’s grown into a man people can count on; he’s proved that these last couple years, as Rory has found herself floundering.

They’ll be lucky to have him in their lives.

———

After that last night on the town with Logan and his friends, Rory expected to never see any of the members of the Life and Death Brigade again. They’ve had their fun together, over the years; Rory will certainly never forget all the crazy shenanigans they all got up to together. But as much as she’s enjoyed their time together, those have always been more Logan’s friends than her own.

It comes as a surprise, then, when all of them - Finn and Colin and Robert, the three musketeers or three amigos - all make a point to call and text and, eventually, drop by. They’re a little fascinated by the baby, this sudden proof that someone in their sphere really has grown up. As nervous as it makes her at first, to let these crazy, careless men sit in the diner and take a turn carefully holding Ivy, it’s cute and funny to see the way they handle her like some kind of unknown, volatile science experiment.

It’s funny, really, how differently they all react to the various daddy issues in their life. With Logan, it’s made him eager to live up to Mitchum’s impossible standards, no matter how much he tries to claim otherwise. With the rest of the Brigade, it’s somehow had the opposite effect. They all run away from responsibility whenever it gets too close, and Rory isn’t remotely in denial about that, but they’re somehow desperate to love and be loved, too, all of them. They’ll never be the guys she calls for babysitting, not if she wants Ivy back in one piece, but Rory thinks they could be the fun uncles instead - not a constant presence in Ivy’s life, but the kind of figures who will send a dozen roses and maybe a singing telegram to a kindergarten graduation or gift an impractical car for her sixteenth birthday.

(And in the empty space Logan seems determined to leave - Rory will take whatever she can get.)

———

Jess has been around a lot more than Rory anticipated, really. It’s not that he’s stayed away from Stars Hollow in past years; his life may be based in Philadelphia now, what with Truncheon and all, but she knows he’s made a point to drive up a couple of times a year to see Luke and Liz and his little sister, Doula. Since Rory’s come back to town, though, he seems to be around at least once a month - checking in, offering support with the book or anything else, and generally being a friend. It’s not something Rory’s particularly inclined to question, happy just to have him back in her life, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, either.

“He’s been around a lot,” Luke comments pointedly. “Know anything about that?”

“He’s helping with the book,” Rory explains wearily. It’s an explanation she’s made a lot of times, to a lot of people, though she never figured Luke - level-headed Luke, who usually runs from gossip and emotions like an Olympic sprinter - would be one of them.

“Whatever you say, Rory.”

Only the delivery of her burger had stopped a full-blown debate - something Luke had likely known. You don’t live with a Gilmore Girl for a decade without picking up a few tricks.

(She’s trying not to read too much into it - the way he keeps showing up to sit in an empty desk at the Gazette office and listen to her talk until she works out her own writing blocks - but others apparently don’t have that same compunction. Then again, Luke has never been called subtle .)

By the time Ivy is born, Rory thinks the book is maybe two-thirds of the way done, thanks in large part to Jess’ encouragement. At least halfway, for sure. It’s a different kind of writing than she’s used to, after years of news articles and five-page magazine spreads, but it’s the good kind of challenge. There are days the words just flow out of her, memory mixing with prose to create something wonderful, and there are days she stumbles more. The personal nature of the project accounts for most of her hold-ups. Rory knows what makes for a good story, what will best illustrate the points she’s trying to get across, but it’s about her , and her mom, and all the other people in this crazy town that she loves. There’s not the same distance that she might find if she was writing about post-apocalyptic teens, or whatever other kind of fiction is in vogue these days.

“Why did I decide to do this?” Rory groans, sitting on the couch in the apartment with Jess and her laptop, watching as Ivy pedals her arms and legs on her playmat on the floor. “Why did you talk me into writing this? This is your fault, you know.”

“Yes, I’m an evil genius forcing you to write a book. Absolute cruelty,” he snarks back. “Talk to me again tomorrow or next week when you figure out what needs to change for your current hurdle to make sense.”

“Why do you have to be the voice of reason?”

Jess’ face is unusually earnest when he turns to look at her - or as least as earnest as Jess ever gets. “Because I know you can do this, Rory. You might be the most determined person I know - if you want to write a book, it’s going to happen. I’m just here to listen to you whine until you’re ready to get back to the grindstone.”

“An invaluable service, really.”

“Damn straight. I’m an expert in that field.”

And he’s right - because a few days later, Rory busts through her block and gets back to flying through sentences and paragraphs.

(She’d tell him what that kind of encouragement does for her - but then again, he probably already knows.)

———

Rory doesn’t have a regular job, per se, at least not right now; Ivy takes up so much of her time, and in between she’s desperately trying to put her book down on paper. She’s still the editor and primary contributor of the Stars Hollow Gazette, but it’s hard to call that steady work. There’s not enough going on in this little town for that, and most months accounts of the latest town meetings and whatever festival or fundraiser is being held in their little hamlet take up the sparse pages. It’s work that lets her feel like she’s accomplishing something - but in any other circumstance, one where she’s not simultaneously taking care of an infant, it wouldn’t be nearly enough to do, with the skimpy compensation to match.

It’s a shock when she gets a call out of the blue from Headmaster Charleston, asking if she’d like to come back to Chilton to head up a weekly journalism class. Privately, Rory suspects her grandmother of meddling; even if she now lives in Nantucket, content to build a new life and new purpose, Emily’s years of networking and most of her connections still stand, and she’s still not above pulling on those strings for what she believes is the benefit of all. It’s all too easy to accept the offer when she’s not in much of a position to say no. There’s the argument, too, that maybe this will help Rory figure out what she wants to do; perhaps teaching is her real calling.

(Somehow, Rory doubts that.)

As much as she loves Ivy, marvels at all the little changes and developments that come so quickly in these early months, it’s nice to have a standing appointment every Wednesday to get out of the apartment and out of Stars Hollow and put on real pants for a change. Chilton is the same as ever, all tall gothic arches and meticulously pruned shrubs, but somehow it seems less intimidating than it did when she was a student. Not smaller, like all the high school reunion cliches, but less… weighty. It’s no longer some mountain she has to climb like it was back when she was a teenager; it can be just a building and a repository for her memories.

Rory finds that she likes teaching the class, actually, even if she can’t see herself making a career out of it. It’s nice to keep this just as a side gig, coming to campus once a week, only committed to teaching the one ninety minute class. She knows for certain that she’d go insane if she was committed to teaching three or four periods every day of the week, but this? This is sharing her knowledge and her passion with a small group of students who want to be here, who signed up for this elective on purpose. It’s like revisiting her own time as a student - covering the evolution of the profession and talkabout all the things she wished she knew when she first started at the Yale Daily News. With only one class, too, she doesn’t feel bad about seeking out one of the coffee shops she used to go to, back when she went to Chilton, in order to grade homework without distractions before she has to pick Ivy up from her mom at the Dragonfly.

It’s not her calling - but it’s a nice distraction.

———

Most afternoons, Rory camps out at one of the tables by the bay window down in the diner with her laptop and tries to write. Tries is the operative word, of course; this is a social town, and not to be too vain, but she’s a popular lady. It’s still easier to take the baby monitor downstairs while Ivy’s napping, as the open floorplan of the apartment makes it difficult to do anything without waking the baby.

(Yeah, she knows she’s supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps and all that - but clearly, whoever came up with that catchphrase wasn’t trying to write a novel at the same time.)

Today, a quiet Tuesday afternoon at the end of the lunch rush, her distraction has nothing to do with catty townsfolk. Today, Luke roped the visiting Jess into filling in for the usual waitress, and the sight is… something to behold. Jess has filled out since they first met, no longer the skinny, lanky kid she knew in high school; that much has been obvious for the last several years. But there’s something about the rolled up sleeves today, the way his arms keep flexing as he delivers and clears plates, that leaves Rory unable to look away.

“When did you get built , Mariano?” she teases as he comes around with another coffee refill - still decaf, much to her chagrin, but what are you going to do.

Jess slides into the chair across from her, snagging his own mug off of an empty set table to pour his own cup of the brew. With an exaggerated glance down at his own arm, he shrugs. “Dunno. Took up boxing a couple years ago. Why, you see something you like, Gilmore?” he finishes with that cocky little smirk that’s always made her all fluttery. Some things really haven’t changed over the years.

“What can I say, I’m a red-blooded American female.” After a moment, the first part of his response catches up to her tired brain. “Wait, you said boxing? Like - ”

Jess groans. “Do not make a Rocky joke, Rory, I swear to God - ”

“I’m just saying, you live in Philadelphia! Maybe you’ve gone native! I mean, I would have pegged you for obnoxious cheesesteak opinions instead of this, but to each his own - ”

“This is not some weird ‘gone native’ thing,” he scoffs. It’s evident he knows she’s teasing him, though, in the way the side of his mouth struggles not to quirk up. It’s nice, reminiscent of the banter they used to toss back and forth. “This is… it’s good exercise, ok? And a much better outlet for my frustrations than whatever self-destructive spirals I used to get into.”

Rory gapes, struck speechless for a rare moment. “Jess Mariano, did you go to therapy ?”

A little bit of color flushes on his neck, but he otherwise keeps his composure. It’s not that she has anything against him going to therapy - frankly, they’re both prime candidates for a doctor’s couch, regardless of whether they want to admit it. It’s just surprising, somehow, to hear that Jess of all people is seeing someone, talking things out. Good for him, honestly - for the therapy and for being open about it. It’s another sign of how far he’s come since they were still those idiot teenagers. “Heard it was the trendy thing to do these days.”

“And you’re nothing if not a hip lemming, always following the crowd.”

“Yes, that is the one thing that people have always said about me. I’m such a follower.”

Somehow, she can’t help but grin at this, the way they sass each other back and forth. So often these past months, since Ivy was born, Rory has felt too tired to keep up with her usual self, to dish things out with the speed and array of references that she’s used to. It’s a relief to reclaim that, even just for a moment.

Before the moment can blossom any further, Babette waves Jess down from across the diner for her own refill. “Try not to get distracted by the gun show, alright, Rory?” he jabs as he stands up in his dry, teasing voice. “That book won’t write itself.”

(And if she sneaks another handful of glances before she hears Ivy start to fuss on the baby monitor - well, he’s good enough not to mention it.)

———

In a weird way, having Ivy brings Rory’s friendship with Lane into perspective.

Rory doesn’t remember a lot of the first year of Lane’s twins’ lives; the fact of the matter is that she hadn’t been around to make those memories. She only realizes now just how much Lane was on her own - Rory had been off following the Obama campaign, and Zach had been on tour for months at Lane’s insistence. Some days Rory feels like she can barely keep her head above water, and she’s only got the one baby to contend with; it’s a miracle Lane didn’t snap while having to care for two on her own.

“I really admire you, you know,” Rory tells Lane during a lunch date at the antique shop while Kwan and Steve are at school. Lane sits across the table, same as it ever was, happily making faces at Ivy in her arms.

“How’s that?” Lane asks.

“Because… I don’t know, I feel like I’m losing myself in the mom-ness of it all some days. I don’t get how you made it through that first year without Zach here most of the time and still stayed… Lane .”

“I mean, I wasn’t fully alone,” Lane points out. “I had my parents. Mom especially. Having her help with the boys really finally healed that relationship, which I’m not sure would have happened otherwise.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But, I mean, you’ve still got the band and you still keep up with all these up and coming music acts and - I don’t know. Maybe this is just baby brain, but I have trouble thinking about all the things I’d normally like to do. Seeing movies and new TV shows and whatever else. It’s like… all the Rory bits of my brain are just being taken over by Ivy bits.”

“It gets better in time,” Lane assures her, shifting Ivy to cover Rory’s hand on the table next to the rice cakes neither have touched. “She’ll get older and more independent, and you’ll have time again to be Rory. Besides, you’re not alone either,” she adds. “Not only do you have your mom and Luke and a whole town of affectionate maniacs, but you’ve got me. You can drop this cutie with me, her godmother, anytime you need a break.”

“Didn’t you reject religion years ago?”

“That’s a good point - but also, I’ve decided it’s not relevant right now.”

———

Motherhood, as a whole, is rewarding. There’s something magical about the way Ivy looks at her and looks like her, something earth shattering about the kind of trust she exhibits every time she smiles or reaches for Rory. It’s purpose, in a way that Rory was never entirely sure that she wanted; now, like every cliche ever written, she can’t imagine life any other way.

For all of the magical moments, though, there are moments like this - hours and days where Ivy won’t stop crying, refusing to be soothed no matter how long she’s held or how much she’s bounced and swayed. It feels like Rory’s tried everything - the changing, the feeding, the singing, the music, the lighter clothes. Everything. None of it works, not even for a moment, and Rory’s at her wit’s end, practically in tears herself as she bounces around the apartment with her tiny banshee in her arms.

“Please stop crying, baby,” she pleads, stroking the wisps of reddish fluff at the top of Ivy’s small head. The blonde hair had fallen out at six weeks, much to Rory’s guilty relief, and was growing back in a shade reminiscent of Emily’s natural shade. Not that she can focus on it right now. “I’ll do anything , baby, just… I don’t know what you want. What do you want ?”

Ivy doesn’t answer though, too young for anything but these screams. The never ending screams. The screams that leave Rory feeling more desperate, more on-edge than ever in her life.

It’s not a great time for someone to knock at the apartment door; frankly, it’s probably a miracle that Rory even hears it. Under more normal circumstances, she might care that Jess sees her like this when she opens the door - unshowered, exhausted, barely holding it together - but she’s reached a point where she’s incapable of caring about anything but stopping the crying.

“Were we supposed to meet?” she asks, tears rising to the surface as the very prospect proves just one too many things to handle. “I’m so sorry, Ivy’s been fussy all week, I completely forgot - ”

“No, I know,” Jess interrupts. “We didn’t have plans, Luke mentioned you were having a rough week. I figured I’d come up, give you a bit of a break.”

It doesn’t help. “I’m - it’s ok, I can handle this. You think I can’t handle this?” The words come out more frantically than she would have liked, but she’s not thinking straight anymore, and Ivy’s still crying —

“You know I don’t think that, Rory,” he says, in as much as a soothing voice as Jess can muster. He’s never been much for displays of emotion. “I just want to help. Let me take the howler monkey for a couple hours. You can have a shower, get a nap, come back thinking clearer. Alright?”

Her pride demands she say no - to not ask for help. It’s a streak so reminiscent of her own mother. But she’s so tired, and her ears will be ringing from the cries and screams for ages to come, and it’s too tempting an offer to deny. Resignedly, she nods, handing over the baby. “Ok. Yeah, ok, thank you. Let me get you the baby bag, and the carrier, and - ”

“Nope,” Jess interrupts, already starting a half-conscious bounce to try and settle Ivy and waving off all of Rory’s attempts at protest. “Look, I spent a lot of time here way back when, helping Doula make it to her first birthday. I know the drill. You’re veering towards Liz-level crazed, so go take a moment for yourself before it becomes permanent, alright?”

Somehow, Rory finds herself nodding, though she can’t help but try and reclaim a bit of the banter - or a bit of normality, more like. “You can’t really call her a howler monkey, though. She’s not howling yet.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know that screaming monkeys are a thing, so we’ll make do. And the operative term is yet .”

As much as it hurts to admit, he’s right - after a shower and a couple hours’ nap, Rory feels… not quite like a new woman, but at least prepared to enter the fray for another round. Lately, that’s enough of a win. When she wanders back downstairs, Jess sits outside on a park bench with Ivy shaded in her carrier from the worst of the summer sun. His foot absentmindedly rocks the carrier back and forth periodically as he reads a well-worn paperback whose cover she can’t make out.

He looks up as soon as the bell on the diner door jingles, putting the book aside when he sees Rory stepping down. Blessedly, Ivy’s cries have ceased for the moment. “Don’t get too excited,” Jess cautions her. “Think she just cried herself out for the moment. I’m not remotely confident she won’t start again once she wakes up.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” Rory gladly collapses onto the bench beside him, caving to the urge to lean into his body and rest her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for this. I clearly needed it.”

Jess just hums in response at first. They sit in silence for several minutes, just soaking in the day and watching preparations for whatever the carnival of the month might be in the town square, before he finally uses his words. “That’s not your fault, you know,” he assures her. “Babies are just like that. They go through spurts where it’s all crying all the time. You know that, from Lane’s and Paris’ kids.”

“I know,” Rory sighs. “I just didn’t realize how… helpless I’d feel. All the sleep deprivation and parental instinct and everything combining into straight up panic. I just felt like it was something I had to figure out, you know? I mean, this probably isn’t the last time.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do it on your own. Call your mom, or Lane, or Luke, see if they’ll give you a hand for a couple of hours. Hell, give me a call, I’ll drive up if I have to. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know.” The moment sits between them as Rory processes. He’s right, of course; so often these past years, he’s been the voice of reason when she needs it most. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Not a big deal.”

Rory finally finds the light way out of this, and she takes it. “So, did Miss Patty or Babette happen to see you during your babysitting adventure?”

He groans. “Put it this way: we both should brace for some real creative comments in the next few weeks, and I for one plan to make myself scarce.”

———

She thinks about her grandfather a lot.

Richard had been such a steady figure in her life since the age of 15; for all of the heart and health problems he'd had in that time, he’d always seem invincible. Timeline - like he’d always been there, and would always be there. His death had been a shock, no matter how much it shouldn’t have been. Grandpa had believed in her so strongly too, that she could do anything she set her mind to. Of course, Rory thinks he probably never would have guessed she’d wind up here, after a life with everything so carefully planned.

“What do you think Grandpa would have thought of this?” she asks her grandmother during a more vulnerable moment. Emily’s Nantucket cottage isn’t even remotely as grand as the Hartford house had been, but there’s something more homey about it, and there’s still plenty of room for Rory and Ivy to come stay a few days over the October break. The sea breeze and change of scenery has sparked words in a way Rory hadn’t anticipated, but fully intends to take advantage of, and Emily loves the chance to spend time with her great-granddaughter, even if the ‘great’ makes her nose scrunch up in a very particular way. It aches a little for Rory to watch, knowing her grandmother probably wanted this back when Rory was a baby; then again, knowing the way Emily had wanted to raise Lorelai in their upper crust image, and gladly offered some of those same trappings to Rory, maybe this is for the best. Richard’s death has fractured Emily, but it’s softened her too, as much as that’s possible for Emily - made her loosen up, live in the moment more and worry about appearances less.

(Emily has offered, more than once and in a way veering towards insistence, to host Rory and Ivy here at the cottage for as long as they liked, but Rory keeps finding ways to turn her down. As much as she understands and accepts Emily’s desire to be involved in her great-granddaughter’s young life in a way she couldn’t be involved in Rory’s for so long, Rory understands, too, all the reasons why Lorelai set out on her own in the first place. She doesn’t quite understand where she’s going right now, but Rory knows that’s something she’ll have to figure out for herself. Emily, for better or for worse, wants the best for those she loves, and has always believed the best is a mirror image of the life she leads. That life now is different in so many ways from the one she was living before Richard died, but the urge is still there - and Rory isn’t sure she’s ready to spend her life in Nantucket, talking about whales. No, for now, a series of short visits is much better.)

“What do you mean?” Emily asks absently, comparing the look of two vases on a sideboard that look entirely identical to Rory.

“I mean, this probably isn’t where he saw me going. I can’t imagine what he’d think about me writing a book about the way I grew up. I just… do you think he’d be proud of me?”

Her grandmother sets both vases down with a gentleness that is contradictory to the way she crosses to Rory with determination in every movement. “Rory,” she says, placing her hands on Rory’s sweatshirt-clad shoulders, “your grandfather was always proud of you. Always . Even if we didn’t imagine this would be the path you’d take, I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make him anything less than proud, and delighted you were his granddaughter.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course. And I feel the same way.” With a last squeeze to Rory’s shoulders, Emily lets go and crosses back to her decorating with a smile. “Of course, after those years teaching, he would have edited your manuscript with a colored pen in hand. I’ll do you the favor of declining that form of editing.”

Rory laughs, knowing her grandmother is right; Richard had loved teaching those econ classes, and had taken to it like a duck to water. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. “I like remembering him like that,” she admits. “Excited to learn and share. I loved having those moments with him.”

Emily smiles fondly, sadly. They’re all slowly learning how to live in a world without him. “I did too.”

———

I want to drink in a bar. My kitchen feels depressing , the text from Paris demands. Let me know your schedule.

(She’s never been much for requests.)

Tact and lack thereof aside, it’s good to see Paris; Rory is more-or-less glad to consider her old schoolmate one of her best friends, inexplicably, but they’ve always both been too busy to really keep up with anything more than the occasional text, conversations often winding up spaced out over the course of several days as both get pulled in every-which direction. Even if Rory doesn’t have the same work demands now, Paris definitely still does. While she’d been an invaluable resource while Rory was pregnant, insisting on providing her with the names of the best doctors out there, they’ve both been too busy with their own lives for more than the occasional call since. This is well overdue - especially with Paris’ kids with Doyle for the week and Ivy at Lorelai’s for the night.

They go out to New Haven and hit the bars around Yale in what is probably some kind of misguided attempt to reclaim their youth. It’s been ten years; they’re obviously not students anymore. But it’s fun to sit in a grimy bar for the night and pretend they’re not thinking about all the terrible terrible substances that have been spilled on every surface.

They try to keep conversation light, to talk about books Rory’s read lately and Paris’ latest crazy client and all the little milestones their children are hitting. Albums they want to listen to and movies they want to see. Paris’ lengthy opinions about the bars near her in New York. All the little nothings that somehow form a lasting friendship. Maybe it’s the venue, though, or maybe it’s just an inevitability, but somehow they find themselves talking men over a third drink like they’re 22 again.

“I miss Doyle,” Paris confesses. “I miss my Doyle, not this cool screenwriting asshole he wants to turn into. He was a neurotic bastard, but he was my neurotic bastard, you know?”

“That’s the best description of Doyle I’ve heard in years,” Rory replies, examining her drink. It’s a garish blue - something that had seemed fun half a glass ago, but just seems questionable now. “So what, then - you guys going to get back together?”

“I don’t know. I mean, obviously I can’t bring that up. He’s the one who changed and suggested the stupid separation, he’s gotta be the one to fix it.”

(Rory isn’t entirely sure that’s how it works, but she knows better than to get into it with Paris when she’s stubborn about something.)

“What about you, though?” she continues, flagging down the bartender for a refill of her cosmo. “You aren’t still going to try and mend things with Logan, are you?”

“God no. I mean, obviously there’s love there, or there was, but that’s over. He’s not really… ready for all of this. Growing up in a way that doesn’t mean just following in his father’s footsteps.”

“I never really liked him, you know.”

Rory snorts. “Bullshit. You loved the banter.”

Paris toasts a concession. “Fine. But I never liked him after the bridesmaids debacle.”

“Fair enough.”

Rory thinks that’s it, as Paris reaches for the nachos on their appetizer platter. Well, not quite an appetizer platter; they’d just ordered all the finger food that was available and let it take up most of the table. Paris is full of surprises, though. “What about Jess?”

Rory tries not to accidentally inhale an ice cube. “What about Jess?”

“I mean, he’s been around, right? And looking hotter than ever.”

“Oh my god , Paris.”

“What? I’m just saying. No one would blame you. Or, you know, be surprised about you getting back together with your high school love who just happens to be an author. That’s better than any shitty script Doyle could come up with, even if it is a bit trite. I mean, he’s there all the time. And he’s still got that hair, right?”

“It is good hair,” Rory admits. Probably a sign she needs to switch to water. “Can we drop this, please? Nothing is going to happen.”

“If you say so, Gilmore.”

( Did you know that Paris has a thing for your hair? she texts after the fourth drink - in hot pink this time.

What can I say, she’s a woman of taste , he responds.)

(And if Paris shoots her a smug look from the bar - well, she’d drunk texted Doyle too, so she has no room to judge.)

———

Some nights, they do nothing more than sit in the darkened diner with leftover pie and a coffee or beer, chatting the night away. It feels like old times, back when they were just a couple of idiots. It’s nice to pretend for a couple hours that they’re still those teenagers, and not a single mom still trying to figure out where she’s going and an acclaimed author ignoring his next deadline. There’s an irony, she thinks, to the situation they find themselves in now - he, the man who has it all together, and her, an increasingly hot mess. It’s not how anyone would have expected they’d end up.

She mentions it to him one night, only for Jess to snort in amusement. “Ok, you are not a hot mess,” he tells her. “Not even close.”

“You sure about that? Because it sure feels like my life is a disaster most days.”

“I’ve seen hot mess Rory,” he tells her. “This isn’t it. You go big or go home. Last time you descended to a genuine hot mess, you stole a fucking yacht .”

“It wasn’t a yacht, it was a boat,” Rory mumbles in protest, even as she smiles behind her mug of decaf.

“It was a yacht, and you know it. You stole it from a marina that wouldn’t accept anything as mundane as a boat . I can break out the dictionary if you want, but you know I’m right. My point is ,” he plows ahead before she can interrupt, “you are not nearly the disaster you think you are right now. This is just… a stumbling block. You’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll have to,” Rory replies with a sly grin. “No yachts to steal in Stars Hollow.”

(As much as she may laugh it off, and he may let her, it strikes Rory’s heart in some particular way to hear the confidence Jess has in her, the way he’s so quick to assure her that she’s not entirely off track and adrift - that this is just a detour. There’s something different about hearing it from him, and not from her mother or grandmother. Jess always seems to be the one to steer her back on track - and this seems to be just another case.)

———

Rory has never been one of those obnoxious new year, new me! types, but she’s veering dangerously close this time. After a year of so much change and uncertainty, it feels like a chance to turn over a new leaf and rediscover so much of the direction that she’s lost.

Though it feels like she still might jinx it, it feels like things are finally coming back together. Chilton has contracted her to teach her class in the spring semester again, and she’s picked up some work writing book reviews for an online publication. That feels a little like coming back to her roots, in a way - she started at a little online setup, and now, after years of chasing glossy magazines and newsprint, she’s back here again. But the assignment is enjoyable, and money is money - especially since she’s got her eye on a small house for rent near where Lane lives, in a neighborhood of quaint bungalows. She’ll always be grateful to Luke for his generosity in letting her live above the diner for so long, but it’s not workable long term. Ivy is growing every day; while Rory’s homecoming back to Stars Hollow has brought into focus that this is the place she wants to raise her daughter, they both need more space. Ivy deserves her own room, maybe a backyard to run around in, and Rory deserves a door she can close while her baby is napping.

Most exciting of all, Rory finishes her book in early February. At least, in the moment, it feels most exciting of all - it’s been months of blood, sweat and tears, but it’s done . There’s a feeling of relief as the last period hits the page, even if she consciously knows there’s still so much editing to do. Writing the book, about her and her mom and the way they’ve lived, had been emotionally draining and emotionally freeing all at once, and calling it finished feels like an accomplishment like she hasn’t found professionally in so long.

The next time Jess drives up to town, Rory practically dances around the kitchen in anticipation, waiting for him to knock on the door. There had been so many people who supported her during this weird time in her life, and then when she decided to write this book, but Jess sits high on that list. The idea had originated with him, and he’s prodded and encouraged her the whole way; it feels right that he see it first, even if he’s made her promise this whole time to shop it around to bigger publishing houses instead of just asking him and Truncheon to publish it.

“Someone’s happy,” he comments when she opens the door with a huge grin. “Do I even want to know, or did your mom share another convoluted sex joke?”

“You’re going to want to hear this,” Rory promises. “And no, it’s not a joke. Sexual or otherwise. Close your eyes.”

Jess rolls his eyes first, but he complies and even smiles a bit. For full dramatic effect, Rory had printed the book onto real paper - dozens and hundreds of pages, all off the Gazette office’s ancient printer over the course of a day that she’ll probably wind up paying for in some way later. It’s worth it , to stand here with all those pages in a binder clip with a red pen. With a final flutter of nerves, she shoves it all into his chest.

Jess’ arms close around her offering on instinct; his eyes open to actually see what’s going on a second later. Looking at the pages in his arms, comprehension dawns slowly, and his own rare grin spreads. “You finished your book?”

“I finished the book!” Rory squeals, not caring nearly as much as she should about disturbing her currently quiet daughter.

Uncharacteristically, Jess sweeps her into a hug - a big, swooping thing where her feet leave the floor and he spins her about a bit. Those arm muscles, you know. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. “This is amazing . You’re a genius, Rory.”

“You haven’t read it yet,” she laughs as he sets her back down. “It could be absolute trash. I could have slandered your good name. I could have —”

“Yeah, but I know you didn’t. You’re Rory Gilmore. Obviously it’s going to be great.”

There’s a moment there, where he looks at her with pride and awe and so much shared joy that Rory thinks it would be so easy to lean up and kiss him. And maybe it’s the moment, the adrenaline, but she wants that. Not letting herself think too much, she starts inching upwards, as he starts inching down —

And then Ivy shrieks from her playpen - a happy sound, likely picking up on the joy bouncing around the room, but enough to shatter the moment.

“I’d better check on her,” Rory says weakly. “But go nuts. Tear it apart, tell me what I need to fix. I want to hear what you think.”

“Included the pen and all,” he tosses back. If Rory’s not mistaken, his voice is a little uneven. Did she do that? God, she did that. She can’t do that.

So, like so many times before - Rory bolts to avoid talking about what just almost happened.

(Even if it’s just to the other side of the room.)

———

“What should I do?” Rory begs her mom in the aftermath, pacing back and forth in the living room while Lorelai scrolls through online sewing patterns. She’s never been entirely confident in affairs of the heart anyways, having maneuvered herself into a mess a few too many times - with everyone but Jess, that is. Maybe that’s why she needs advice so badly; not only is there Ivy to consider, but her and Jess’ relationship is the last one she hasn’t outright screwed up yet.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Lorelai asks. Like a normal, reasonable person, who also maybe hasn’t had to think about this for the past ten years since she figured out her soulmate was right in front of her face. Rory’s never been so frustrated with Luke than in this moment, knowing he made the kind of commiseration she’s looking for impossible.

“I wanted to kiss him!”

“Then you should! Next time you see him and the moment is right!”

“But I can’t!”

Lorelai dramatically closes the laptop. “Are we circling? I feel like we’re circling. Why are you asking for advice if you know what you supposedly can or can’t do?” When that produces no useful response, she plows forward. “Okay, new tactic. Why can’t you?”

Rory sighs. “I just feel like… I’ve barely got things figured out, you know? And he does. I don’t want to fuck things up for him. My life right now is a mess .”

“Ok, I’m going to stop you right there. If he thinks you and Ivy being in his life is anything less than a damn miracle, then there’s your answer, that’s my opinion, do not pass go, do not move forward with this.”

“But it’s Jess.”

“Right, it’s Jess. And as much as it might pain for me to admit, I have gotten to know Jess a lot more in the past few years since he got his act together, and I have trouble believing he’s that particular brand of asshole. That guy’s been around, and happy to be here, since the moment you moved back home. Job or no job, kid or no kid.”

“But what do I do with that?” Rory whines.

Her mom sighs. “With full awareness of me, queen of avoidance, telling you this - you talk to him, Ror. I know you’ve got plenty of words, my darling daughter, my mini me, my legacy. Use them, for the love of all things holy. Comprende?” Rory nods, not capable of much else. Especially when the solution is supposedly so simple. “Cool. Now sit down and convince me that I have enough on my plate and don’t need to try making baby clothes even if they really are stinking cute and the whole matched ruffle trend in the kids stores drives me nuts.”

———

When Lorelai suggested that Rory and Jess talk, she probably imagined a calm, planned, adult conversation. For better or worse, though, this is Rory - that was never going to happen. So instead of easing into the topic carefully, she blurts out it out in the diner, the last night before Jess drives back to Philadelphia in the morning.

“I want to talk about what happened the other day,” she all but demands when Jess gets up to make more coffee.

His steps falter with the carafe in hand, before moving again to get fresh water. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, I mean… we almost kissed.”

“I know. I was there.”

“So what does that mean? ”

That finally gets him to set the container down, bracing both hands on the counter. “I don’t know Rory. I don’t know. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I don’t feel something, because I do, but you are… You’ve been through a lot this year, and I don’t know that I want to be the guy that you latch onto because you’re lonely and I’m here. I don’t think I can do that.”

Rory is struck speechless for a moment at the very idea. She’d never even thought of that; these feelings have been percolating in her for so long, but she’s never given him any indication of that. Of course he thinks this is coming out of nowhere. “Jess…”

“If you want to be something, give this a second shot, yeah, of course. I’m there, I’m all in. I’m your guy. But I want you to be sure about that, Rory. I… I haven’t been yearning or pining or carrying a torch or any other bullshit you’d find in a romance novel, but I figured out a long time ago that I like my life with you in it. I like that I get you and you get me. I love your kid and I mostly like your mom. So I’m sure. But if this is just because I’m available and here —”

“But don’t you see? That’s part of the point!” Rory interrupts. “I mean, you’re making it sound like such a bad thing, but that fact that yeah, you’re here - that’s huge . And it’s not the whole reason I want to get into this, but - I mean, you’ve been supporting me through this book. You are entirely unphased by the fact that I have a kid with someone else who isn’t here. You’ve got this faith me I still don’t fully understand, and… Yeah, I want this. I want this because you’re a more mature version of that brilliant, sarcastic bastard I fell in love with as a teenager, but I want it too because you want to be here.” She finally pauses for breath. “Does that make sense?”

Jess nods silently. Nothing more.

Time to babble - by far the worst trait she inherited from her mom. “So… is any of that a deal breaker? Because honestly, I wouldn’t blame you, that was definitely a lot to dump all at once. But also, you should know what you’re getting into, you have almost fifteen years of experience listening to me word vomit, so if you didn’t think that’d continue —”

In the time that she runs her mouth, Jess crosses back to her side. “Would you just… shut up for two minutes?”

And he kisses her - takes her face between his hands and brings their mouths together, like she’s fantasized about more than she’d like to admit. It’s like falling back in time in the best way, relearning the shape of each other’s lips and the way they fit together. No chicken pecks here. Rory gladly twines her arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible as his hands readjust, one sliding back into her hair as the other drops to grasp at her hip. When he gently nips at her top lip, she can’t help but giggle - giggle, like a teenager again! - before diving back in to deepen the kiss. Like so many things with Jess, this feels right , like they’ve been leading back to it forever.

They finally break apart only when Rory becomes aware of the fact that they’re still in the closed diner, perfectly in view of the darkened street.

“As good as you remember?” she asks cheekily.

Jess leans his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “Better.” They take a moment just to enjoy the shared space before he continues. “Any regrets?”

Rory smiles. “None. I’m sure. I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

And for the first time in forever - she knows that’s true.

#Gilmore Girls #literati #rory x jess #literati fanfic #literati ff #my writing #I have yearned for you (and I still do)#this is a pro-pining zone

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