#I really like how she handled the soldier's ptsd- i adore how she adjusted her methods based on their reality- and not just screaming like

[brynn-lear]

Finally got the time to sit down and finish playing Natlan.

Honestly though? Idk if it's like a hot take, but if I have to rank AQs from most enjoyable to least in my experience:

literally every dainsleif quest I'm so sorry I'm a simp, but Requiem Of The Echoing Depths 🔛🔝

Sumeru 🌱🌱🌱🌱

Natlan 🔥🔥🔥

Liyue (interlude? the one with Osial. Chasm quest on the same rank if that counts) 🐉🌊

Mondstadt

Fontaine

Liyue (part 1) 🪦🐉💰

Inazuma

take this from someone who does not play Genshin regularly because she has grown to mildly "hate" the game. I couldn't stand consuming a constant stream of Genshin media anymore without feeling a bit ill for reasons I don't know myself.

I'm not talking character design and stuff cause that's a whole nother can of worms I can rant an hour about [I'll never quite get over how Natlan gets a damn bike and DJ crap while Fontaine showed none of that tech I'm sorry]—

but I enjoyed Natlan mostly for how it portrays war. I really liked the NPCs, worldbuilding, and their reaction to constrant strifes of war. I just felt way more connected with how the script adds layers on the amount of lives lost, the pressuring death tolls, the conversations the traveler could have about honor and the grief of those left behind— it felt like an actual nation. The AQ shows so much patriotic spirit and I just find that incredibly refreshing 🤷 I didn't spend much time caring for the Playable Characters, I started caring more for the bigger picture with the NPCs. Which is DEFINITELY not what a lot of people play for, hence why this is just my opinion bro lol

I'd probably ruin my current opinions if I decided to remember by twitter password and check other people malding abt this lmao

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

@theeyethatbinds​ Girl SING IT. SING IT LOUDER FOR THE GIRLS IN THE BACK, SWEAR TO GOD.

Like I’m gonna be real wit y’all I was looking forward to le Comte for a while, but I was always side-eyeing Jeanne. He’s a blunt hermit and grump and 100% mood, so I hoped his route would give me more insight into how I feel about him.

Ladies. When I tell you. It was EXCELLENT. I mean there are so many gr9 routes in the game, I don’t want to take away from them, but there was just something about his that hit me so hard???? (MY KOKORO BROKORO)

More under the cut since his route won’t be out for a little while (we still got Isaac, then Theo, then Jeanne), as a little treat. As usual, pls don’t read if you don’t want spoilers, thanks!

Okay so going into this route I was fully expecting the big sads. I mean, if history has taught us anything it was that Joan D’Arc was a badass but good lord, that doesn’t mean the people of her time were kind to her. (I need to do more thorough research on her, so if I’m getting any of her pronouns wrong or neglect something, I do apologize.)

That being sad, I was like aight DECK MY SHIT WITH TRAGEDY, JEANNE. And at the beginning it’s p fascinating. He’s very ornery and resistant to any kind of consideration or attempts at friendship MC extends. But eventually, after a good deal of persistence, he relents little by little.

I’d also like to level with y’all for a sec. Being someone who knows a great deal in regards to the kinds of mental and emotional shit Jeanne struggles through, I think they handled that part of the route so, so well. Granted, I’m not the kind of person to launch a crusade over different writing styles--but for me it just feels all the more poignant when it makes sense; when certain dispositions or trauma are conveyed with that depth. To me, it made 100% sense that Jeanne would be so against accepting other people into his life immediately.

He and Mozart vibe because they’re so similar, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s comfortable letting just anyone in--much less a complete stranger. I think it’s more that Mozart and Jeanne share a kind of indelible bond/mutual recognition through their talent, actually. They were both prodigies, absolute geniuses in their fields (military vs. music) but their social skills were shot to hell for the very same reason. To be brilliant--beyond one’s potential posthumous legacy--tends to mean being hated. Plus, they’re both principled to absolute extremes. When they’ve decided on something, they will not waver. They’re stubborn and austere, but behind those walls lies a molten core of sensitivity.

This is important to understanding him, I think, before I move forward.

While one could argue that their reaction is a result of that deficiency of emotional and social support (which I entirely concede does contribute to the matter at hand, it shouldn’t be overlooked) I think the real crux of the matter here is control. Think about it. Among the oldest residents in the mansion (let’s say that were born more than 100 years within the range of the present period of the game) are Mozart, Jeanne, Isaac, and Shakespeare. What do they all have in common?

Extremity. For Mozart, it comes in the form of a kind of OCD, as perfectionism. For Jeanne, it is generalized anxiety and PTSD. For Isaac, it is primarily social anxiety--but it’s still noticeably severe. And Shakespeare runs around with a knife, insecurity through the roof, literally unable to trust anything or anyone (psychosis? schizoaffective? I’m really not sure, these are all ballpark assessments based on the evidence I have). In order to adjust to their new surroundings, there was a cost--and in some ways their coping mechanisms become noticeably maladaptive. They were born into eras that were mercilessly unpredictable, and the only way they knew how to cope was to was to either take the blame--make it a personal failing that tragedy struck--or try to immerse themselves into their craft. They all seek to regain some kind of control (this is even visible in Vincent, to a degree--painting was an escape from his emotionally turbulent world).

Granted that’s not to say that the others don’t struggle with such issues at all, I just feel like the characters from more unstable time periods tend (as a general trend) to mirror that instability within their personalities.

All that being said, (I apologize I am a tangent-monger and love meta), Jeanne’s self-imposed isolation is only partially caused by the above dynamic. Yes, he is unwilling to let people into his heart for fear of betrayal. (It’s almost like an entire nation clamoring to watch you burn for something you didn’t do after spending your entire life and talents trying to protect them would do that to you, but I digress >:| ). But there’s another devastating and potentially less obvious reason for keeping people out.

He thinks he deserves it.

Loneliness, melancholy, aimlessness. These are all the punishments that he incurred on himself after a life of what he conceives to be considerable sin (hahaha battlefield enemies go ripppp). Whether or not he was operating purely out of a sense of duty, even if he felt sympathy for his enemy combatants, it’s not enough. And the condemnation of his king, of his entire nation, only served to magnify that self-loathing to a dangerous degree. (Don’t get me started on his parents I’m still so angry >:| they more or less disowned him since he was constitutionally weak as a young boy, and thus could not serve as an adequate farmhand. Don’t work? Don’t eat/live).

It’s hard enough living in a reserved way because you’re afraid of getting hurt, but to think that you deserve it when hurt finds you, no less? And my favorite part, that he’s so profoundly sure that it is an extension of a personal, fundamental failing? That for a person to survive, they must be strong, that there can be no other way--that there is no time or space for ruminations on fairness or unfairness, there are only those who manage to survive and those who die.

Now my friends, esteemed comrades, legendary sluts. Is that enough for us, Cybird asks, are we feeling enough pain quite yet? Fuck no.

Most of his route after we get over the hurdle of his hesitation is just him. Being. Bashful and gentle as all FUCK. Like he is the definition of “I'll kill you, but also I’m babie.” For instance, she insists on teaching him how to read and write at night when she finds him trying (and not succeeding) to read “The Ugly Duckling”. Yes I mean the children’s book. I CRIED THE FIRST TIME AND I’M CRYING NOW. So, naturally, MC buys him a notebook to practice with and he puts his name in big letters on the front. When MC sees this, she asks him about it--wondering why he would given he’s so self-conscious of his own writing (boy writes all squiggly like a little kid because he’s never done it before ;-;).

The scene goes a little something like this:

MC: Wh....whatcha go there Jeanne? Jeanne: ? My notebook? MC: I...mean that you wrote your name on it? Jeanne: Yeah? MC: Why? Jeanne: ._. It was a gift from you, and I figured it'd be hard to practice if I lost it...so I put my name on it... (HE WAS SECRETLY TOUCHED I BET AND IM--) MC: Why such big letters? Jeanne: So people can spot it quickly, obviously MC, inches from crying and laughing: Jeanne: Mademoiselle??? Why are you laughing? MC: Because you’re cute, Jeanne!

Like. They start out so rocky and Jeanne is so SIGH. I guess I’ll agree if it’ll get her to stop looking so sad and ask me to join her for stuff. But then he just can’t help but go full softe at how patient and kind she is, starts feeling comfortable just...being who he is deep down. A man that’s always hoped for better in life, a person that only ever takes up his sword to protect--that has an incredibly pure and clear heart, despite so much pain.

And good lord, they are GOD TIER romantic slow burn???? Swear to everything holy, I was BEGGING for them to make out by like chapter 10, I was just suffering for most of the route until the bangarang premium. Here’s probably my favorite moment in the entire route:

Basically Sebastian and Mozart pull out all the stops trying to bring Jeanne and MC together (once they see Jeanne show some interested in her). And so Jeanne asks her to join him in the courtyard the next morning, and they’re playing with Cherie (Jeanne’s pet baby white tiger). Besides being ungodly adorable--because Jeanne invited her for the sole purpose of hoping to see her delightfully surprised--Mozart begins to play a love song nearby. They don’t name the tune, but Jeanne canonically starts singing along (I wholeass cried, I WANT TO HEAR HIM SING????). And so she asks what the song is about, and he explains that Mozart once played it for him, but he couldn’t make out the words at first. Mozart explained that it was a love song that speaks to the difficulties of being in love (the worry, the strife) but also the beauty of the intensity and passion. He goes on to say that even when he learned the words, it never made much sense to him back then--it never resonated.

He’s singing softly with a fond look, and so she asks, does he understand it now? And he looks her dead in the eye, and says “...I think I’m starting to.” Like. AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT LOSE MY MIND AT THE TENDERNESS????? WHAT A SMOOTH MOFO????? MAN RAISED TO BE A SOLDIER, NO KNOWLEDGE OF ROMANCE OR WOMEN, AND KILLS ME IN MILLISECONDS?????? I DEMAND JUSTICE. (Or it’s just me thinking sincerity is the best aphrodisiac, but that’s beside the point.)

This has been your quarantine 2d boy meta and yelling, provided by your local mod Minnie. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to get to the things I’ve been procrastinating on while reliving/dissociating about one of my favorite rts in the entire game. Stay safe and well out there y’all, peace out!

[whitewolfmoving]

Dancing in the Moonlight

Part One

Summary: A routine check-up with Shuri turns Bucky's upside down world right side up.

Warnings: panic attack, discussion of car accident, discussion of PTSD and anxiety

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Word Count: 3885

A/N: Taglist for all fics— including this one— are open. It's not really an au, but more of a story about Bucky if the snap never occurred. It is an OC fic set in the part of Infinity War with Bucky's goat farm, but the story itself is my own. And Infinity War doesn’t exist. Neither does Endgame because fuck Steve Rogers ruining peoples’ lives. Anyway, happy reading!

Series Masterlist

Bucky Barnes’ whole world came to life the day he met her.

The warm sun beamed down on Bucky’s shoulders as he made the trek from his farm to Shuri’s lab. She’d sent word early that morning with Okoye, requesting that Bucky meet her at the lab for routine testing. As with every test Shuri did these days, she wanted to check his range of motion with the Vibranium arm. He knew she could conduct such exams out at his farm, but she’d been so polite about it that he couldn’t help but oblige her. He enjoyed the exercise the walk allowed him and the quiet. He gave a curt nod to the palace guards and made his way to the lab. Once there, he shrugged out of his blue short-sleeved t-shirt and popped a squat on the end of the exam bed, pulling an annoyed groan from the 18-year-old.

“Must you always sit like that?” She asked, throwing his balled-up t-shirt back at his face.

“It’s comfortable. And gives me the leverage I need to jump into action at a moment’s notice,” he replied with a laugh.

“Were you born in a barn?” She retorted.

Before he could offer up a good-natured insult of his own, she appeared out of nowhere and caught him off guard.

Serenity Grace Corbyn waltzed into the lab a whirlwind of laughter in a crystal blue sundress and left Bucky at a loss for words. He sat in stunned silence, biting the tip of his tongue as his head jerked up in search of the origin of such a beautiful sound. Music, that’s how Bucky would describe the young woman’s laugh for years to come; the perfect melody to a song he’d desperately been trying to complete for over 75 years.

He watched quietly while she greeted Shuri.

“Shuri! Nakia told me you’d be hard at work here. She said you were with a patient.” The woman’s voice rang through the lab, and Bucky swore it was the sound of sunshine. She pulled the young scientist into a tight hug. As she stepped back, she caught sight of the man perched on the end of the exam bed behind her friend. “Oh! Please, don’t let me interrupt.”

“Actually,” Shuri paused, turning to the monitor next to her. “This, or rather he, is why I asked you here.”

Bucky and Serenity waited with bated breath for Shuri to pull up the schematics of his Vibranium arm, smiling proudly at her work. She then turned to the awestruck man and grinned with a small shake of her head.

She planned this, he considered quietly. Shuri was always telling him that once he healed and she was satisfied with his progress, he should consider putting himself out there, meeting someone. She insisted a romantic partner would “greatly increase his quality of life.” Bucky insisted that it was a load of horseshit. That was until Serenity appeared out of thin air.

“What’s the matter?” Shuri asked, her voice breaking through Bucky’s swirling thoughts. “Panther got your tongue?” she guffawed.

A heavy silence descended on the lab. Bucky was acutely aware of how he perched on the end of the exam bed, shirtless for the world to see. He looked up finally and his gaze met Serenity’s for the first time. She was staring intensely at his body, igniting a fire underneath his skin. The heated reaction was foreign to him, yet he found a familiar comfort in it, in her.

“Ahem,” Shuri cleared her throat beside the speechless pair. Her plan was already having the desired effect.

“I-I’m Serenity. S-Serenity Corbyn,” she stuttered, pulling her eyes from the taut muscles of his chest. A light blush dusted the apples of her cheeks, she extended her left hand to him.

Bucky smiled softly. She’s adorable, he thought briefly. He noted the way she’d thoughtlessly held her left hand out to him. He wondered if she realized the prosthetic arm was attached to his left and not his right. If she had, it wasn’t obvious to him or Shuri.

“Serenity, this is Bu—” Shuri began.

“Uh, James,” Bucky quickly cut her off. He adjusted his position and sat on his butt, leaned forward slightly, and placed his left hand in Serenity’s. The soft pressure on the Vibranium extremity was oddly comforting. “James Brooks.” He ignored the confused stare Shuri shot at him and gave the young woman in front of him a polite nod of his head. That’s the best you could do? he scolded internally and prayed Serenity wouldn’t notice the awkward exchange between him and Shuri.

“Nice to meet you, James.” Her voice was smooth.

“The pleasure is all mine, Doll.” The name slipped from Bucky’s lips with ease. The last time he’d used it had been in the 1930s with a girl he couldn’t remember the name of. Yet for having just met Serenity, he liked her. He liked that as far as he could tell, she knew nothing about him.

Her reply was a soft smile as she took a step closer to the exam bed, her small hand gently tucked in his larger metal one. She gestured with her free hand toward his shoulder. “May I?” He nodded.

Bucky’s eyes followed Serenity’s movements, they were fluid, graceful. She slowly reached for his arm with both hands, and he missed the feeling of holding her hand in his. That was new. She deftly moved her fingers along the cold Vibranium until they met with flesh. For once, Bucky didn’t flinch. Serenity’s hands were warm against the skin of his shoulder, a recognizable feeling he’d been missing for years.

He couldn’t recall the last time he let someone get that close to his arm without instantly pulling away, without looking at him with pity swimming in their eyes. Serenity’s care was a breath of fresh air for the soldier, and it surprised him to find how good it felt. He continued to watch her gently massage the spot where flesh turned to metal and allowed himself to relax under her touch. His eyes fluttered, then shut.

It wasn’t until Shuri cleared her throat again, looking between the two of them, that Bucky learned Serenity had pulled away. When he finally looked up, he found her half-turned away from him to the monitor with the schematics on it, a pensive look in her eyes. For a moment, he wondered what he’d done while zoned out, and if it had caused the awkward tension that now floated around the lab. It was palpable, stifling, Bucky almost choked on the surrounding air. What was that new sensation and why couldn’t he figure out how to handle it?

He reached out to grab Serenity’s arm, his momentum continued to carry him forward and he toppled from the bed. Thud! Bucky hit the ground hard, taking Serenity with him. He’d have to remember to apologize for that later. His chest was on fire, his shoulder hurt. The walls of the lab were closing in, Bucky felt like he was suffocating. He couldn’t recall the last time it had happened, or if it ever had. His mind clouded over with things he hadn’t thought of in almost a year.

“Bucky?” Shuri softly questioned. She slowly approached the man where he lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, but stopped when Serenity held up her hand.

“Hey, James, it’s Serenity. I’m right here in front of you.” He could hear Serenity’s sweet voice somewhere close by and tried his best to focus on it. She sounded far away. “You’ll be alright, James. You’re safe, okay?” She was talking to him in the same tone Steve had used before, whenever nightmares plagued his mind.

“Breathe, James. Don’t worry about anything else, just breathe.”

She was back far enough that Bucky had the space to breathe without their proximity suffocating him, but close enough that he could still make out the words she spoke. Between heavy, rapid breaths, Bucky noted two things: one, was that Serenity seemed much less concerned about the fall she’d taken and more concerned for his well-being and two, was that she had her right hand out to the side with her palm parallel to the ground. It was as if she were signaling for something or someone, and despite the panic that had settled itself deep within Bucky’s chest, he was intrigued.

The woman snapped her fingers once, twice, and softly jerked her head to the left. “Veni,” she said firmly, but her voice never rose above the quiet tone she’d used before.

Shuffling behind Bucky caused him to startle as a small clinking sound met his ears. The overstimulation of noise was too much for the soldier to handle and he folded in on himself further. He pulled his knees to his chest, locking himself in an invisible barrier.

“Stai,” Serenity spoke again, a firm command, and closed her fist. The movement behind Bucky ceased. Serenity moved slightly, positioned herself directly within his line of sight, and paused. “I’m going to place my left hand on your right arm, okay?” As she gave him the gentle warning, her hand rose slowly and softly wrapped around the bicep of his upper right arm. He flinched at the contact, but only just. Her eyes moved from his face to somewhere just behind his body, she nodded and opened her hand again. “Iarnă, veni.”

Bucky’s breath hitched when he felt something soft and thick brush against his side. He glanced up at Serenity, pupils were blown wide, irises thin rings of ocean blue as his eyes darted back and forth. The creature beside him lowered slowly at Serenity’s command, causing Bucky to bristle. A small sound akin to a whimper moved past his lips, fear rose and mingled with the panic he was already drowning in. He wanted to speak; he wanted to run, but he could neither talk nor move. Rooted in place, downed by the overwhelming sense of anguish, Bucky mentally cursed himself. The only comfort he could draw on was the beautiful girl in front of him, alert and ready to jump into action if he needed her to.

He tried to swallow past the humiliation forming a lump in his throat at the thought of causing such a big scene in front of Shuri and a complete stranger. Hot tears stung his eyes, shame cast a dark shadow over his features. How could he explain what had just happened? What would Serenity think of him now? Why was she being so kind to him? So many questions swirled around his mind, fighting to escape, but Bucky held them back. All he could do to keep from bursting into tears on the floor was stare at the pattern of yellow daisies on Serenity’s dress.

“Ușor.” Her voice met his ears again, calm and warm. “James, this is my service dog, Iarnă. If he makes you uncomfortable, I can move him back.”

Bucky shook his head, slowly dropping his arm from around his knees and placing a shaky hand into the silvery fur at his side. The dog remained still at his side, head resting on top of his front paws, gaze fixed on Serenity’s face. Bucky felt a sense of calm wash over him, adding to the comfort he had already gained from having Serenity close.

He wasn’t sure when the tears and shaking had stopped, wasn’t sure how long they’d been on the floor, wasn’t sure what he’d even say to explain the whole thing. All he knew was that he was grateful for the pretty girl who tore through the lab, a tornado of laughter in a crystal blue sundress.

Bucky trudged along slowly, following behind Serenity in a daze.

He tucked his hand inside Iarnă’s fur as he used the German Shepherd for support staying upright. The panic attack sapped a lot of his energy, he was exhausted and just wanted to be back on his farm. Shuri had offered each of them one of the many rooms at the palace, the least she could do to help, but he’d politely declined. Serenity assured Shuri she and Iarnă would see to it that Bucky got home safely, and that was enough for her.

The fresh air helped Bucky relax, the cold breeze bit back at the heat radiating off of his body. He was safe; he knew that much. The pain he’d felt earlier had subsided, though he wasn’t quite ready to tell anyone he’d been experiencing phantom limb pain again. In a way, Bucky believed he rightly deserved the torment his mind was under, he had to atone for his sins somehow.

At that thought, he quickly pulled his hand from the large dog’s fur, forgetting that his Vibranium arm was now nestled inside the protective case in Serenity’s hands. The sudden movement threw him off balance and he staggered to the left, realizing too late that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from falling.

“În stânga lui!” Serenity commanded quickly. Her left hand shot out and wrapped around Bucky’s right wrist, while Iarnă appeared at his side in the blink of an eye. “Aștepta!” Iarnă planted himself firmly at Bucky’s left side and pushed against him as Serenity pulled him toward her. In no time, the two of them had Bucky standing straight again and resumed their trek down the hill.

The first thing Serenity noticed upon reaching Bucky’s farm, was the small herd of goats just beyond the fence. “Goats?”

Bucky shrugged. “They keep me busy.”

He led them past the fence to the small hut, stopping by the door and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. He’d been at the lab early that morning and couldn’t remember the state he’d left everything in. He glanced at the ground then back up at her. “I apologize in advance for the mess. I haven’t been home.”

Serenity giggled; Bucky smiled at the sound. “I think I can handle a bit of a mess.” She held up the case with his arm in it and gestured toward the hut. “Sunset isn’t for another four or five hours. What do you say we put this inside and then you can show Iarnă and me your goats!” The same light blush from that morning graced her cheeks again and she looked down at the ground. “I-if you want to…”

“I would love to,” he replied. He pulled back the curtain over the entryway and politely ushered Serenity and Iarnă inside. The hut’s interior was simplistic but cozy. He watched Serenity gently lay the case down next to the bedroll on the floor and turn to face him. He stood with an awkward smile, his right hand going to the back of his neck again. She hummed as their eyes met. “You’re staring,” he quietly observed.

“Nervous tic?” she asked, mirroring the gesture he’d made with her hand.

“I guess so,” he answered. Bucky dropped his hand back to his side, his fingers brushed the soft fur of Iarnă’s head. He knelt next to the dog and scratched behind his ears. “Mulțumesc, Iarnă.”

“You speak Romanian?” Serenity pulled her eyebrows together, tilting her head to the side.

“And Russian. Some German. You trained him in Romanian?”

“French and German, too.”

Bucky wanted to ask why but thought better of it, noting the distant look of pain in Serenity’s soft brown eyes. It was a look he knew all too well, the reminder of one’s inability to do the things they’d once planned. He’d only just met this woman and yet, next to Steve, she was proving to be the easiest person to be around. With one last scratch behind the German Shepherd’s ears, Bucky stood. “How about we visit with the goats for a little while?”

The smile returned to Serenity’s lips and she nodded happily. “Lead the way.”

For hours Bucky and Serenity sat under the tree just beyond the fence, baby goats would come and go, nudging their tiny heads against Bucky’s thighs now and then. A talkative little white one with brown spots had taken a liking to Serenity, softly bleating at her while it lay curled up in her lap. That one, Bucky told her, had never let anyone close to him until then. Her response was a shy smile as she tickled the baby under its chin.

Bucky couldn’t wait any longer, questions were floating around his mind that he wanted the answers to. He busied himself by dragging his fingers through Iarnă’s fur, looking out at the horizon as the sun began to set. “How did you know what to do before? This morning, back at the lab?”

He hadn’t meant for the question to appear as harsh as it did, luckily Serenity didn’t seem to mind. She shrugged and that faraway look returned to her eyes. She sighed. “I’ve become rather familiar with panic attacks over the last few years.”

“You have panic attacks?” He blurted without considering his question. You idiot, you can’t just ask her that, the little voice in the back of Bucky’s mind reprimanded him instantly. “I-I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”

Serenity chuckled. “Please, don’t apologize, it’s okay. It’s one of the reasons I have Iarnă.”

“One?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“How did you recognize what was happening before I did?”

“The way your body went rigid when we fell.”

Bucky tensed slightly; he had no idea how bad the incident was until then. He vaguely remembered it starting, but the only thing he could recall was the sound of Serenity’s voice in front of him during the attack. Embarrassment flooded his body and his cheeks turned pink. He looked away from her face.

He was used to being misunderstood, used to people judging him without getting to know him first. He wouldn’t blame Serenity if she wanted nothing to do with him now. They’d only just met and he’d already lost his grip on reality. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew he had to make it up to her.

“James?” Serenity called, capturing his attention once more. He turned to her. “You want to ask about Iarnă and me, don’t you?”

He groaned; the blush of his cheeks darkened. “Is it that obvious?”

“It is, but I don’t mind. You can ask,” her smile eased his discomfort.

“How long have you had him?”

“Two years today, actually.”

“And you trained him in French, German, and Romanian?”

“Yeah, I always wanted to travel. But after my accident…”

“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

Bucky studied her face, he noted the way she’d gone completely still, her body stiff. She was looking everywhere except at him. That must be her nervous tic, he wondered silently. She seemed distracted, more so than she had back at the lab. Something was bothering her, but he didn’t know what. He considered the pain laced in her voice as she said ‘accident,’ he wanted to know what it was; he wanted to help her feel comfortable again.

He missed the sound of her laugh, missed seeing her smile and the way it reached her eyes. She’s hurting, too. You’re not the only one. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned forward and gently laid his right hand over hers, offering a kind smile.

Serenity’s gaze shifted to their hands in her lap, Bucky’s thumb tracing soft circles on the back of her left one. She took a deep breath and spoke quietly. “I’ve always had a little anxiety, you know? Everyone does. I guess over the years, it just became a little harder to manage. I was with an ex-boyfriend; we were on our way home. We stopped at a red light and when it was our turn to go, a car in the opposite turn lane went at the same time. They hit us head-on in the driver’s side door, and little old sports cars don’t always have passenger side airbags, so I had to stop myself from flying into the dashboard.

“After that, my anxiety just grew. And then one night before I left him, we got into an argument, I said something that pissed him off and he took a sharp left turn. He slammed on the breaks and I caught myself on the dashboard again. I was lucky my seatbelt was working or I… I would have gone through the windshield. I’m not afraid of cars. I just don’t enjoy being a passenger in them.”

Bucky’s eyes were wide as he listened to her finish the story. He couldn’t explain the strong flood of emotions he was feeling. His hand repeatedly flexed against Serenity’s, his fingers opened and closed around hers. “I can’t imagine…”

“The panic attacks started shortly after,” she continued in a rush. “Traveling was out of the question. I left him, moved in with two of my friends. It took a long time for me to be okay on my own again. When I moved out, I got Iarnă. I needed help to manage my attacks, remember to take my meds, even daily tasks that should be easy for me to do. My memory isn’t the best. Pain keeps me from getting out of bed most days. And I don’t do well alone or in large crowds of people, or in unfamiliar places. Iarnă’s trained to notice the smallest changes in my behavior and react accordingly, he can sense when I’m distressed. He was standing behind you when we fell, he responded to you as he would with me, and that’s when I figured out what to do.”

Bucky stared at the dog as he streaked by them after a small group of baby goats, he had let him run off a while ago. “Has he ever done that for someone else before?”

She shook her head. “No, never. I mean, it’s what he’s trained for, he always sticks to my side. I keep his vest on me at all times, but he’s usually off duty when we visit Wakanda. He doesn’t take to strangers easily either. There’s something about you, James.”

“Thank you for letting him help me,” he said calmly.

“You don’t have to thank me. I know what it’s like to feel trapped, a prisoner in your own mind. I’m glad I could offer you an escape. When you’re ready to talk about it— whatever it is— Iarnă and I will be here.”

Bucky smiled. To most people, it would seem like such a small gesture in the grand scheme of things, but to him it meant the world. He’d gotten used to suffering in silence and he could tell Serenity had too, but she’d opened up to him. He wondered how she’d made it this far, he knew Iarnă was a huge part of that, but there was something else he couldn’t put his finger on. If she can face her demons and win, maybe I can, too. It was a fleeting thought. He sat there with her hand tucked inside his own, they watched the sun dip below the hills. For the first time since Shuri had freed his mind from the triggers that turned him into the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes had hope.

———

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