#and that i still plan on relocating next year or the one after so it's gonna be temp anyway

[vanmarkus]

i swear finding a room in london that doesn't cost a kidney/month and also doesn't look like what they scare probationary health inspectors with might just be my last straw

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

 He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

[jaythes1mp]

Do you think readers' lives would be different if they were a deer hybrid?

Fun Fact: Did you know that cervids (from the deer, deer and elk family) are considered extremely sensitive animals. When suffering severe stress, such as when captured or rescued, for example, the animal's reaction can cause what is called 'capture myopathy' ', which compromises the organism of these animals.

I do, actually. Because, another fun fact! In June of this year me and my roommate saved a baby deer who was laying next to her mums dead body (she was less than 48 hours old). Fortunately she wasn’t injured. We were extremely lucky to be living next to a wildlife specialist, our neighbour, who’s been looking after Astrid and will continue to until she’s old enough to be relocated. Thankfully this wasn’t the first deer that’s been brought to her. So unfortunately I'm very acquainted with that fact.

She’s still striving strong though! These were the first pics taken of her.

Anyway, how they’d react:

Batfam x deer hybrid reader

With Damian's exceptionally caring nature when it comes to animals, he has already meticulously planned out the perfect environment for your deer forms comfort. He has considered every possible scenario and tailored everything to ensure your contentment as well as a space to meet all of your needs.

The young Wayne would thoughtfully strategize and visualise your reactions to every minor action or stimulus. He would carefully consider the most appropriate responses and adapt his behaviour to ensure a positive and nurturing environment for you. Even if the environment in question was one that you were forced into.

The bats would handle your transformed state with great caution, disregarding if your human mind was in control when you were transformed or not. Given your affiliation with the Cervidae family in your animal form, the Wayne family would be especially mindful and considerate of your natural tendencies, behaviours, and instincts.

Despite Dick's intelligence and expertise as a vigilante, being second only to Bruce Wayne himself, his impatience would become apparent within the twenty-ninth attempt to approach you for some affectionate ‘big brother cuddles’. Assuming you’re an adult or older teen, you would be extremely skittish and resistant in your deer form to his advances and attempts to get close, if not completely avoid his presence altogether, let alone let him cling to you for a ‘snuggle.’

Jason wouldn’t comprehend why you’d consistently conceal yourself, in both forms, hiding behind the couch every time he arrives, or why you involuntarily freeze at the sound of his motorcycle, or even why you instinctively flee at the slightest hint of him standing or making a move. But despite his confusion, he doesn't hold it against you. He’s witnessed the horrific experiences and trauma the children of Gotham City are subjected to, and if hiding and evading is the way you cope with what you’re going through, then he’s willing to wait patiently for you to feel secure in his presence. As your sibling, he vowed never to give you a reason to fear him. He knows just how overwhelming it is in this new environment, and he’s not planning on giving you any more reasons to be frightened by them.

Tim would find it easier to deal with your distressed nature than the others, opting to monitor you through the security cameras, allowing him to work on his cases simultaneously, rather than being overly affectionate with you. This way, he could keep a watchful eye on you without having to directly interact, which allows him to multi-task and focus on both keeping you safe and solving his cases.

Despite Jason and Dick no longer living in the Manor, Bruce would likely be the one to spend the least time with you. However, he's not neglecting you. He makes a conscious effort to rearrange his busy schedule, keeps certain days free every week, and meticulously plans time for some quality family bonding. Even if the quality time in question only consists of him quietly sitting in your vicinity, sipping on some freshly made tea while reading the newspaper, he cherishes every moment that he gets to share with you. Simply being near you is enough. Because you're his child, and he's not planning on fucking that up ever again.

[justabigassnerd]

Making You Proud

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 6,671

Warnings - major character deaths, grief, angst, mentions of being shot down, funerals, just a whole lot of sadness okay? bit of fluff at the end

Summary - you lose the one person you thought you'd never lose and have a hard time coping

A/N - hey y'all it's time for a new fic isn't it? this was an anon request that I absolutely loved like I read it and was like 'this is the most angsty thing I've ever read... I love it!' so I really hope I've done the idea justice. I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Growing up, it had just been you and your dad against the world. Your mother hadn’t wanted a baby and so handed you straight over to Maverick almost the second you were born and forfeited any parental rights. You loved your dad; he was the best dad he could possibly be for you. He loved and protected you unconditionally. He also brought his best friend and RIO Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw into your small family along with his wife, Carole and son Bradley who was but a year older than you.

When you were little, you, your dad, Goose and his family all relocated to Miramar after your dad and Goose’s training at Top Gun. The two men were offered permanent positions as instructors at the highly regarded Navy school. They accepted, mostly so they’d have a more permanent place to call home but insisted that they still got to go on occasional deployments since their love for aviation was too much to consider giving it up. So you grew up in Miramar, with Bradley as your best friend and a loving group of people surrounding you, especially with the inclusion of your dad’s Top Gun classmates, Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky and Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner.

Not long after you turned eighteen, your dad and Goose were given a new deployment, according to the brief it wasn’t going to be any longer than a couple of months and with you due to go off to college just after Maverick’s return he was even more determined to get back on time. With you being eighteen, and Carole just down the road if you needed her, Maverick was fully comfortable leaving you in charge of the house while he was gone. He stocked up the fridge before he left and made sure to leave you some extra money for the next food shops you need to do.

“Alright squirt. I’ll see you in a couple of months.” Maverick said with his ever confident smile as you stood on the pier along with all the other families bidding goodbye to their loved ones.

“You’ll be back in time to help me move into college, right?” You ask looking up at your dad as he softens.

“y/n, nothing is going to stop me from being there. I’ll fly back from the carrier if I have to.” Maverick promises, bringing you into a gentle hug and rubbing a hand up and down your back. When you’re released from the hug you move to hug Goose goodbye, throwing your arms around him as Carole and Bradley move to say goodbye to Maverick.

“You’ll look after him for me, won’t you?” You quietly ask Goose, looking up at him as he nods.

“Been doing it for this long and I don’t plan on stopping.” Goose assures, squeezing you in the hug a little before releasing you. You hear the call for all the Navy personnel to begin boarding the carrier and look at your dad who smiles.

“That’s us.” He says, glancing over at Goose who nods, both men picking up their bags and turning to head over to board the carrier.

“Dad, wait!” You call out, rushing over to your dad as he turns back to face you before hugging him tightly, eliciting a small ‘oof’ from him upon impact. Maverick, of course, did not hesitate to hug back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as well.

“I love you.” You whisper, hugging him a little tighter.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Maverick replies, a smile on his face as he presses one last kiss to the top of your head before releasing you to join Goose and board the carrier. After keeping you dad in your line of sight until he disappeared into the aircraft carrier, you watched as the carrier pulled out into the ocean and began its journey across the seas. When the families began to disperse, you turned to face Carole and Bradley.

“I say we get some ice cream. On me.” Bradley says with a grin, looking from you to Carole as you roll your eyes jokingly. Getting ice cream after seeing your dad and Goose go out on a deployment became a tradition when you and Bradley were young, and you never wanted to let it go.

“Oh the ice creams are on him, Carole! Is this part of becoming a fancy college kid? Being able to afford ice creams now.” You joke as you follow Bradley and Carole to Goose’s bright blue Bronco. Your words caused a light laugh from Carole while Bradley laughed sarcastically. Bradley had just finished his first year at college and was back home for the summer, he had wanted to join the Navy straight out of high school, but Carole and Goose had urged him to try college first, to see if he finds something he likes more and to just get a degree under his belt in case after he graduates, he can’t pursue a career in the Navy.

“Just remember, you’ll be a fancy college kid in a couple of months.” Bradley grins as he ruffles at your hair, laughing as you swat at his hand, laughing yourself. The three of you climb into the Bronco and Bradley drives to the ice cream parlour you had frequented in your youth.

“How are you feeling about college, sweetie?” Carole asks, her ever soft smile on her face as you eat a spoonful of the small tub of the ice cream.

“A bit nervous. I’m going to be so far away from here. It’ll be weird not seeing everyone.” You confess, glancing down at the table, eyes fixed on a stain that clearly no amount of cleaning would get out.

“You’ll be okay, sweetie. You’ll be able to visit, or we’ll come and visit you. Either way you’ll get to see us. You’ll end up having so much fun anyway.” Carole says, smiling as you nod lightly at her words.

“Trust me, you’ll have a great time. You’ll make so many new friends as well. As long as none of them replace me.” Bradley says, sending you a wink from across the table as you let out a soft laugh.

“I promise none of my new college friends will replace you if you promise none of your college friends can replace me.” You bargain, getting a nod from Bradley instantly as he holds out a hand to shake on a deal.

“Seems we have a deal. None of my friends could hold a candle to you anyway.” Bradley says, smiling at you as you smile back. After finishing your ice creams, you spend the rest of the day spending time with Carole and Bradley before heading home in the evening to get some sleep.

Over the weeks your dad was away, you spent time with Bradley and Carole, as well as spending some time with some of your school friends to make some memories before you all head off to different colleges. You didn’t get much communication with your dad, only getting rare phone calls when he was granted one. But you had been counting down the days on the calendar that sat proudly on the kitchen wall, you’d been crossing off the days as they passed as they inched closer to the day that had ‘DAD HOME’ in bright red letters.

Four days before your dad was due to come home, you received a knock on the door. Thinking it was Bradley, Carole, or one of your friends you turned the tv off and went to the door. However, when you opened the door, you were greeted by two men in Navy uniform, both with solemn expressions on their faces. The smile you had on your face dropped the moment you registered who was stood in front of you. You were staring at Viper and Jester, your dad’s old Top Gun instructors.

“Please tell me he’s just in hospital.” Your voice came out as nothing more than a whisper as you looked up at the two men, eyes quickly becoming cloudy with tears before you blinked them away rapidly, determined not to cry yet.

“May we come in?” Jester asked, watching carefully as you nod, stepping aside and holding the door open wider so the two men can enter before closing the door behind them and leading them into the living room where they urge you to take a seat on the armchair while they perch on the sofa.

“We regret to inform you that your father, Lieutenant Commander Pete Mitchell, was killed in action earlier this morning.” Viper says solemnly, heart breaking as he watches your eyes become teary, bottom lip quickly being clamped down on so it doesn’t wobble. Viper had flown alongside your grandfather in the Vietnam war and saw him get shot down and now he had to report of Pete Mitchell’s death to his daughter.

“How?” Was all you managed to get out as tears begin dribbling down your cheeks and your arms wind around your middle as if you were shielding yourself from further harm.

“They say the bandit came out of nowhere. Your dad was scouting ahead, checking for anything that may come the carrier’s way. Either Goose or Maverick must’ve only spotted it moments before it struck because I was told your father attempted to report something in before his signal cut off. Chipper couldn’t get there in time to save them. By the time he shot the enemy down…” Viper couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence, from what he had been told, the image alone of the jet plummeting into the sea in a fiery blaze was too much for even him to handle, let alone Maverick’s eighteen year old daughter.

“Does that mean that Goose is-” A sob cut you off before you could even finish the sentence you were dreading to ask. After wiping your eyes fiercely with the back of your hand you look back at the men and see Jester nod.

“It happened too fast, neither man made it out. There will be an attempt to recover the bodies but we’re trying not to get too hopeful.” Jester says carefully, watching you carefully as more tears work their way down your cheeks, your eyes squeezing shut momentarily to free the tears that are stuck.

“The Navy will take care of any funeral arrangements and are willing to offer you as much support as you need. You can come by whenever if you’d like to clear your dad’s belongings out or if you’d rather someone else can do it and bring them here.” Viper continues, wanting to make sure you don’t feel like you have too much pressure to figure everything out alone. When he saw Maverick’s next of kin list consisting of only your name, he felt awful. He thought to himself that no kid deserves to go through all this alone. You merely nodded at Viper’s words, unable to form any kind of response.

“Do you have anyone who could come over and be with you right now?” Jester asks cautiously, neither man wanted to leave you alone after receiving news this devastating and wanted to get someone to come and be with you for a while. You didn’t respond to Jester’s words, just silently sobbing and hugging yourself. You couldn’t even bring yourself to begin to think of someone who might want to check in on you. Jester and Viper exchanged a worried look when you couldn’t respond, and they started thinking of anyone who may be able to sit with you and check in on you until two people come to mind.

“What about Iceman and Slider? I know your dad was close with Iceman.” Viper then offers, watching you carefully as you give them the slightest nod, giving Jester the ‘okay’ he needed to find the phone and call Iceman’s number. It broke Jester’s heart to stand near the calendar as he dialled the number, noticing the bright red writing on the date four days from now. His heart broke further when his eyes drifted to a day less than a week after Maverick was due to return with, ‘y/n moves into college!’ written undeniably in Maverick’s handwriting. Jester was suddenly shaken out of his thoughts when he heard the voice of Iceman on the other end of the phone and asked him to come over as quickly as he can, and to bring Slider with him.

In the time it took for Iceman and Slider to come over, you excused yourself to go upstairs to the bathroom and to have a bit of privacy. After splashing your face repeatedly and quickly realising it wasn’t going to help the way you were expecting it to, you decided to slink into your dad’s empty bedroom to let out more tears in private.

When Iceman and Slider got to the house, they had been anticipating seeing Jester at the house but seeing Viper as well, both men donning their uniform, set off warning bells in both Iceman and Slider’s heads. The two entered the house and listened carefully as Viper and Jester explained everything about the accident and the deaths of both Maverick and Goose. Iceman and Slider felt their hearts drop at the news.

“Where’s y/n?” Was the first thing Iceman could muster the courage to say, eyes darting around the room in search of you.

“She went upstairs to the bathroom not long before you two arrived.” Viper says, watching as both Iceman and Slider’s eye’s drift to the hallway where the stairs are.

“Can we check on her?” Slider asks, glancing back at his superiors who nod.

“We’ll leave her in your care for now. We called you both over so she wouldn’t be alone. Keep an eye on her and if we can help in any way, let us know.” Jester then says, both he and Viper making their way over to the door while Iceman and Slider follow them, seeing them off before heading upstairs in search of you. Walking past Maverick’s room, both men paused outside the door when they heard the sound of muffled sobs coming from the other side of the door. Slider gently pushed the door open to reveal you curled up on Maverick’s bed, curled into his pillow as you sobbed into it. Both men exchanged a brief worried glance before entering the room. Both of them perched on the other side of Maverick’s bed gaining your attention the slightest amount as you glanced at them out of the corner of your eye before burying your face further into the pillow, inhaling the faint scent of your dad’s cologne that still clung to the pillow.

“You should go and check on Carole and Bradley.” Was the first thing you said, voice muffled by the pillow and thick with tears, but they heard you regardless.

“No, we’re here to check on you. We don’t want you to be alone right now.” Slider says, shaking his head at your words the moment they left your mouth.

“We’re going to help you through this, okay? You’re not alone.” Iceman said softly, hand reaching to rest on your shoulder as his thumb began to rub soothing circles on your shoulder. Inside, Iceman was screaming. He was having to comfort the daughter of the man he had secretly harboured feelings for, since the moment he saw Maverick in the bar before training officially began. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to be comforting a grieving daughter. He was supposed to be watching Maverick drive with you to your college ready for move in day. He was supposed to finally get the guts to confess how he had really felt after all these years.

“How am I supposed to keep going without him?” You question, another wave of sobs washing over you as Iceman continues to smooth his thumb over your shoulder.

“We’ll help you. You don’t have to be alone.” Slider repeats what Iceman had said just moments prior, doing his best to support you.

You continued to sob and didn’t speak another word to the pilot and RIO duo. You sobbed and sobbed until you cried yourself to sleep, still clinging to Maverick’s pillow. When they had noticed that you had fallen asleep, they exchanged another worried look before Iceman took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m going to stay. I can’t leave her alone right now. You can head home.” Iceman says, speaking soft enough to not disturb you. Slider nodded lightly, both men standing as Slider grabbed the blanket that lay folded at the end of the bed and carefully draped it over you before the two left the room, heading downstairs and congregating by the front door.

“If you need any help or anything, call me.” Slider says, attempting a gentle smile for his friend but he was sure Iceman could see right through it.

“I will.” Iceman says, patting his friend on the shoulder and watching him leave the house. The second the door closed, Iceman let out a small sigh, eyes drifting back to the stairs before heading into the living room.

When you woke up, at first you were confused as to why you were in your dad’s room but when the memories of a few hours prior returned you were once again holding back sobs, wiping the tear stains from earlier off your cheeks. As you wiped your cheeks, you heard birds singing from their tree branches and you wanted nothing more for them to shut up. How could they be so cheerful when you had just lost the most important person in your life? It was the cruellest irony to have the day be so sunny and cheerful when you had just learnt of this irreplaceable loss.

When your stomach grumbled, giving away your hunger, you debated not even getting up at all. You wanted to just wither away in bed and never see the light of day ever again. Just as you were in the motion of tugging the blanket over your head, Iceman gently pushed the door open, a tray of food in hand.

“y/n/n, I brought you up something to eat, kid.” Iceman says gently, approaching the bedside and setting the tray down on the cleanest of the two beside tables. Why Maverick needed two bedside tables when the room was only occupied by one person, Iceman would never understand.

“’M not hungry, Ice.” You mumble from beneath the blanket, making Iceman sigh lightly and perch on the bed once more.

“I think you should eat something, even if it’s a little.” Iceman gently encourages, watching as you begin to poke your head out of the blanket, looking over at the pilot who offers you a small smile to encourage you out further, like you were a cat he was trying to win over. Before you could reply, your stomach rumbled angrily, giving away your desire for food and Iceman just handed the food over with a raised eyebrow. He watched you like a hawk, making sure you ate.

“I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now but we should probably think about where you’re going to live.” Iceman starts, trying his best to approach the subject. He knew it was better to talk about it now rather than later.

“Where I’m going to live? Here. Dad bought the house if there’s a chance, I get the house I’m keeping it.” You state as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

“y/n, you’re going to college in a couple of weeks. Paying for this house would probably be a bit above your pay grade right now. If your dad left the house in your name maybe you could rent the house out to people until you’ve finished college and in a good enough financial place to afford living there. In your breaks from college you can always come to mine if you want. My door will always be open to you.” Iceman says, and deep down you knew he was being logical, but you didn’t want any help. You were sure you’d be able to get through this without the help of Iceman.

“Ice, I’ll figure it out. You don’t need to do this.” There was a slight bite behind your words as you glared over at Iceman.

“But you don’t have to be alone. We want to help you.” Iceman tries to get through to you, not wanting you to feel like you had to do everything alone.

“I’ll be fine Ice. You can go now. Go and check on Carole and Bradley.” You, however, were sticking to your guns and weren’t backing down. Iceman knew you weren’t intentionally being mean. You were going through a lot right now and Iceman was sure he had unintentionally pressed you a bit more than he expected. Respecting your request, Iceman stood from the bed and glanced over his shoulder at you.

“If you need me, I’m just a phone call away.” He says softly before exiting the room, making his way downstairs and leaving the house.

A week later, you were burying an empty casket for your dad. Any attempts to recover Maverick and Goose’s bodies were unsuccessful so you were forced to bury an empty casket. A bunch of Navy personnel had showed up to the funeral, wanting to honour your father. It killed you to see Iceman punch his wingman’s wings into the casket. But the pain was made ten times worse when you were handed a folded flag with a copy of your dad’s dog tags on top. Your dad had given his life for the Navy, and all you got back was a flag. You had slipped the dog tags on as soon as you could. And you let out every tear you had attempted to hold back when you saw the fighter jets flying over in missing man formation. Every step of the funeral was proving to you more and more that you weren’t going to see your dad ever again.

After the funeral, as people began to disperse, most of them made the effort to share their condolences for your loss before moving on. As you glanced around the large military graveyard, you caught sight of Bradley with his arm wound tightly around Carole as she sobbed into his shoulder. You’d seen them at Goose’s funeral a couple of days prior in the same exact position they are now. Like at Goose’s funeral, you couldn’t bring yourself to go over and talk to them, so you just watched them from afar, tears in your eyes as you did. Bradley lifted his gaze and made eye contact with you from across the graveyard and you couldn’t do any more than stare back at him. Talking to Bradley and Carole meant having to remember all the times you’d spend together with them, and your father and you weren’t ready for any of that. Eventually, you tore your gaze away from him when Viper approached you with his condolences and when you looked back, both Bradley and Carole were gone.

A couple of days before you were due to move to college, you had been working hard to ensure everything was ready for when you left. After getting confirmation that your dad had left the house in your name should anything happen to him, you worked closely with an estate agent to put the house up for rent, insisting it doesn’t get sold because once you finished college and got a job you wanted to move back to Miramar and the house. You’d sold some items of furniture and other things you didn’t need but kept most of your dad’s stuff. Anything that wasn’t going to college with you was put into storage until you moved back into the house. You only spoke to one person during this time, and it was to ask Iceman if he could keep an eye on your dad’s beloved motorbike while you were away for four years. You were taking your dad’s car with you, but you couldn’t bear to sell the bike.

As you were packing up some of the last stuff you were taking to college you heard a knock on your door. You didn’t answer it, knowing it was more than likely a member of your dad’s team wanting to wish you well or check in on you. In the days leading up to your departure, you were constantly getting knocks at the door and you didn’t want to see anyone. You just wanted to get out of Miramar and would only get in contact with people when you felt good and ready. You remained silent as there was another knock at the door, when you didn’t answer again, you heard a slight thud as if someone had put something down outside your front door followed by the sounds of footsteps getting further away and the sound of a car pulling away. Curiosity getting the better of you, you crossed to the front door, pulling it open and finding a box sat outside your door.

“What the…?” You muttered to yourself as you picked up the box. It wasn’t heavy, and it felt like there was just a lot of paper or something similar sliding around. You brought the box inside, set it down beside you as you sat on the living room floor and lifted the lid off. On top you found an envelope with your name on it. You recognised the writing instantly to be your dad’s. Only your dad had handwriting that scratchy yet legible. Lifting the envelope out, your eyes were drawn to the pictures below it and you placed the envelope alongside you so you could pick up the pictures. There were pictures of Maverick with Goose, Iceman, and Slider, as well as the rest of his team. Then there was pictures of your dad with you as a baby, as a kid, and as a teenager. Tears filled your eyes as you shuffled through the pictures as you began to realise that this box was filled with stuff your dad must’ve kept in his locker at work. You then noticed patches that must’ve been off his flight suit, and you held them, flipping them over in your hands and running your fingers over the embroidered lettering. After going through the whole box your eyes drifted back to the envelope that sat alongside you and you picked it up, sliding your finger under the sealed flap and easing it open before pulling out the letter inside, opening it carefully and beginning to read.

y/n,

If you’re reading this, then I can only assume the worst has happened and I have died and left you behind.

I’m not the best with words, you know this, but I’ll try here for you. I love you so much squirt. You’ve been the light of my life since I first held you in my arms. I know it’ll seem so hard, but you can get through this kid, I know you can. You’re so strong and I want you to go out there and make me proud like you already do every day. You’ll take this world by a storm I just know it.

I am so sorry for leaving you. Just know I’m with you every step of the way in spirit. I’ll make my presence known, promise.

Show the world what Mitchell’s are made of.

Love,

Dad

You were unaware of the tears that had fallen until you noticed the tear stains on the bottom of the letter, and you were immediately moving the paper away from the line of fire from your tears and wiping your cheeks harshly to get rid of the tears that fell. You then folded the letter up and put it back into the envelope for safe keeping before lying back on the carpet to regain control of your emotions.

When the time came for you to begin the drive to your college. You loaded the car up, sparing one last glance to your house as you closed the door.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” You whisper to the house. It felt weird, promising a house that you’d be back but you had grown up in this house. You wanted to come back to it when you could. It was a way to keep your dad with you a little more. After bidding the house goodbye, you climbed into the car, glancing over at the passenger seat where you’d laid your dad’s jacket proudly over the seat as your hand reached up to the dog tags that sat around your neck.

“I’m going to show them what Mitchell’s are made of, dad.” You whisper, a soft smile on your face as you turn the cars engine on, pulling out of your driveway and beginning the journey to your next step in life.

True to your whispered promise. You showed your college what a Mitchell can do. You aced all your classes, majored in psychology, and graduated with top grades. On graduation day, you looked into the audience of proud parents and wished above all else that your dad could’ve been there to see you graduate. You had no doubt he would’ve been the loudest parent there. You could picture him alongside Goose, Carole, Iceman, Slider, and maybe Bradley as they cheered you on, hugging you once you met with them after the ceremony. Instead you were alone, awkwardly dodging parents and graduates until you decided to just leave the ceremony.

After graduating, you moved back to Miramar, becoming a therapist within the Navy. You served as support for veterans, serving members, and family members of any Navy personnel, serving or retired, alive or dead, you’d provide help the best you could. You even reconnected with Iceman and Slider, apologising for the way you had treated them prior to you moving away but they dismissed your apologies, hugging you tight as they told you how good it was to see you again. You first moved into a small apartment to save up money before you got into a good enough financial place to be able to move back into your childhood home. You visited your dad’s grave at least once a week, filling him in on everything that had happened in that time. Despite everything you had achieved, you often wondered if you made your dad proud.

About twelve years after you graduated and moved back to Miramar, you were still happily working for the Navy. You had just finished a long day of seeing client after client, having particularly been affected by a girl that was brought in by her father after her mother died on a deployment. The girl was a similar age to you when Maverick died so after finishing up for the day you needed to go for a walk around the nearest park to clear your mind. As you stepped out of your office, you saw a person stood outside. The first thing that stood out to you was the man’s Hawaiian shirt, not many people wore shirts like that. When the man looked at you, you could’ve stumbled back in shock, he looked so much like Goose, sandy blond hair, moustache, everything. And when you squinted slightly, you realised who you were looking at.

“Bradley?” You questioned, stepping closer to the man, and stopping when he smiles softly.

“Hey y/n.” He replies, his voice quiet and soft as he watches you. He had grown up so much since you last saw him. He’d filled out with more muscles; he started sporting a moustache like his father’s, but he was still Bradley. You longed to hug him, but you felt you didn’t deserve such a greeting after going no contact with him for so long. Bradley could see the conflict within you and held his arms open, raising an eyebrow with a smile, giving you an invitation that you accept instantly, walking into his outstretched arms and hugging him tight as he winds his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry Bradley.” You whisper against his shoulder, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes as you cling to him.

“Don’t apologise.” He says, resting his chin gently on the top of your head.

“But I stopped talking to you. I never checked in.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut to fight off the tears.

“Hey, communication is a two way street. I could’ve reached out, but I didn’t. I think after what happened with dad there was just too many memories and I backed out any time the thought crossed my mind.” Bradley says, assuring you that there was no bad blood between the two of you. After hugging for what felt like forever, you finally pulled away, smiling up at your old friend.

“How did you find out I worked here? You haven’t been stalking me, have you?” You quip as Bradley lets out a breathy laugh.

“You wish. I’m stationed here now at Top Gun. I completed a mission a week or so ago and it really shook me up and one of my teammates recommended I see you. The second I heard your first name I knew it had to be you.” Bradley explained, his grin never fading.

“So you are a Navy man now. Making Goose proud I bet. Who recommended me? Just out of curiosity.” You ask, wondering which of your clients it could be.

“Hangman. He spoke highly of you.” Bradley said, making your eyes widen slightly.

“Jake’s here too and he hasn’t bothered to come and see me? I have some strong words for him when I next see him.” You had gotten along with Jake well; you were able to see past his strong bravado and help him navigate the loss of a wingman pretty early on in his career in the Navy. The two of you had formed a strong friendship and you tried to check in with him when you could.

“So, you joined the Navy after college. What’s your callsign?” You ask, looking up at Bradley as he takes a breath before speaking.

“Rooster.” He says, watching as you nod.

“It suits you, Rooster.” You say, testing the callsign out.

“Do you want to join me for a walk? If you have stuff to do it’s fine the offer is there though.” You then say, watching as Bradley debates the offer before nodding. You lead Bradley to the park, the two of you chatting the whole way before you settle down alongside each other on a park bench to continue talking.

“How’s Carole? I completely forgot to ask.” You say, the thought hitting you violently.

“Oh… she passed away a year after dad died.” Bradley says and you immediately feel like the worst person on the planet.

“Bradley, I’m so sorry I didn’t know.” You apologise quickly, without even thinking you reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay. She wasn’t doing great after dad died, I thought it was a temporary illness but one day I got a call saying her heart gave out. I think she died of a broken heart.” Bradley says, making tears fill your eyes.

“She’s with Goose now, and the two of them are watching over you and they’re so damn proud of you I just know it.” You say as Bradley smiles over at you.

“They’re with Mav I bet. And I bet he’s so proud of you as well.” Bradley says, his words bringing your smile back to your face.

“You know, the mission we flew the other week, our instructors kept talking about your dad.” Bradley says, making your eyes widen slightly as you watch him.

“Talking about my dad?” You prod gently, wanting answers.

“It was a rough mission. We thought someone wasn’t going to make it home. Our instructors kept talking about how your dad would’ve been a perfect person to teach or lead the mission. No one understood missions like that the way he did.” Bradley explains, making you nod lightly. Your dad had been reckless within the Navy, but he used his recklessness to do what others were afraid of doing, which put him above the others in the Navy.

You continued to talk in the park with Bradley, catching up with him on everything until the sun began its descent over the horizon, the golden glow dancing through the tree leaves.

“I’m glad I found you. It’s been great talking to you again.” Bradley says, his gaze fixed on the glow filtering through the trees.

“It’s been great talking to you again too Bradley.” You reply, smiling over at him and admiring the way the golden glow of the sun illuminated his face perfectly. Had he always been this attractive? Or were you just noticing it now? Before you could get lost in your thoughts, Bradley turned back to you.

“We should probably head home before it gets dark.” Bradley says, eyes drifting back to the sun before looking back at you.

“You’re right.” You mutter, upset that this moment has to end.

“So, where are you living now? I’ll walk you home.” You didn’t expect that response from Bradley, and it had your eyes wide in seconds.

“Bradley you really don’t have to worry about it. I’m not too far from here anyway.” You say but Bradley was on his feet, helping you up and looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I was brought up to be a gentleman so let me walk you home, okay?” Bradley says, his soft expression melting you down in seconds.

“I live exactly where I used to when I was younger.” You say and Bradley’s eyes light up, remembering the house all too well.

“Let’s go!” He says enthusiastically, practically bounding along like a golden retriever as he walks you home. The two of you continue to talk until you end up outside your front door.

“Well this is it. Hasn’t changed much.” You say sheepishly, thumb rubbing your wrist in nervousness as Bradley grins.

“Still a great house. I’d love to come by one day and see what you’ve done with the place if you’d let me.” Bradley says, making you smile softly before a sudden wave of confidence overcomes you, making you hold your hand out.

“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in and then we can arrange a time for you to come round.” You say and Bradley instantly dug his phone out of his jean pocket and handed it you, waiting as you made yourself a contact and sent yourself a message so you could add Bradley’s number into your phone. When you handed the phone back to him, your fingertips brushed against his and you could’ve sworn you felt sparks travel up your arm.

“Goodnight, y/n.” Bradley says, bidding you goodbye with one last quick hug.

“Goodnight, Bradley.” You reply, releasing him from the hug and watching as he walks down the driveway before entering the house, sending him one final wave when he glanced over his shoulder. As you entered the house, you made yourself something for dinner before heading upstairs to get ready for bed, exhaustion quickly overtaking you as you clambered into bed, looking over at the picture of you and your dad that sat proudly on your bedside table.

“Goodnight dad. I’ve got a hell of a story to tell you when I next visit. I hope I’m making you proud.” You whispered to the photo, your eyes slipping shut as you allowed sleep to take over.

Little did you know, Maverick had been watching over you ever since his death and as you whispered your little mantra of hoping you made him proud every night, he’d always respond with the same thing.

“You make me proud every damn day.”

[imsuperhungry]

change.

"𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙨𝙩"

packing was bullshit, and if you say you like doing it, you're lying to yourself

he exhaustion sets in fast when you're constantly using all your strength to break down large items like shelves or a lamp just to fit them in a suitcase. And don't even get me started on how tired your arms get after folding clothes for hours, only to realize they won't all fit. Now you're stuck rearranging everything to make more room.

You glance down at the suitcase after cramming everything in, disorganized and messy. One way or another, you were determined to make it all fit. With an irritated sigh, you lift your head to scan the room, only to realize, with a sinking feeling, that you're nowhere near finished—despite having been at it for at least three hours.

.. okay well maybe it's been 30 minutes, but you get the point

You break down in frustration, briefly contemplating if a bullet might be your next piercing. But after taking a deep breath, you decide to flop face down on your bare mattress. You needed a break; you felt like you were losing your mind.

After a stretch of silence, you turn your head and pull out your phone to check the time. It's barely noon, meaning you still have hours before you need to finish packing.

with a small smile, you decide to take a much well-earned nap...

..

Do all airports fucking smell awful, or is that just a Texas thing? Probably the latter. But whatever—at least you managed to get some sleep. After a day of packing, you were drained, so as soon as you sat down, you grabbed your blanket and dozed off in the hard, plastic airport chair.

You likely would have slept longer if not for the hand shaking you awake so roughly. When you open your eyes, your gaze drops to the hand, and you instantly recognize the chipped black nail polish and those pale fingers.

"Come to the bathroom with me real quick; I'm not going alone," she said. Given the dreadful male-to-female ratio here, it made sense. There were fewer than seven girls and at least fifty men. Maybe that explains the awful smell...

"Nicole..." you whine, it would be as soon as you get the chance to sleep, you're forced to get up.

"Come on, you can sleep after, I need to pee." She says as she yanks you up out the chair, making you nearly fall. 

With a grumble, you straighten up and adjust the pink, fluffy blanket you've wrapped around yourself. If you're being dragged up, you're at least going to be warm.

Nicole quickly started practically dragging you through the airport while you were still trying to wake up. Honestly, if she hadn't been pulling you along, you would likely have been bumping into everything, as your eyes felt heavy and your vision was a bit blurred.

After a few seconds, you both finally reach the bathroom. You decide to wait outside the stall where Nicole has gone in, unsure of what else to do. While you wait, you pull out your phone to check the time.

2:09 am...

You decide to stay awake since Nicole is up and likely has plans, meaning she probably won't let you sleep. It's okay, though—your flight is in two hours, and you can catch up on sleep then. You start stretching to help wake yourself up, as the uncomfortable chairs have left your back feeling sore.

Once you were done, you broke the silence by asking, "Are you ready for Virginia?" while letting out a yawn.

"I don't really have a choice but to be," she replies, her tone tinged with annoyance about the move, and understandably so.

Nicole was always on the move, but she had hoped to settle in Texas for a while. Recently, however, she, her mom, and her brother were forced to relocate because her brother had downloaded illegal content.

You recall how desperate she sounded, almost begging you to come with her—she'd never sounded that vulnerable in the two years you've known her. Although she wouldn't admit it, she's grown very fond of you, and she'd be devastated if she had to leave her only genuine friend behind because of her brother's mistake.

You two met during your freshman year of high school and became inseparable within a month. Your many similarities helped forge a close bond between you. Nicole appreciated you because you weren't boring and were always there for her. Whether she was sneaking off to get high or pulling other stunts, you'd cover for her and tell her mom she was with you. She'll always be grateful for that.

Before this move, Nicole wasn't a "bad" person; she was just trying to figure things out. She had a lot of friends and was considered one of the "popular girls," just like you. You balanced each other out—she was black and you were pink, with your lightness contrasting her darkness. You truly bonded when you opened up to her and shared your deepest feelings.

You were both at her house, high out of your minds. With her mom away for a few days, it was just the two of you and her brother at home. You sat on the floor with your head resting in her lap, and she absentmindedly ran her fingers through your hair. As the conversation shifted from gossip about the pregnant girl in your shared chemistry class, it eventually veered into your own deep-seated mental struggles.

When weed hits your system, you tend to get chatty, and Nicole seemed like the perfect person to unload on. So, you shared every traumatic experience from your life with her—your past suicide attempts, your ex-boyfriend cheating on you with your friends, your struggles with drug abuse, your father's poor behavior, and much more.

Nicole listened intently to every word that night. She liked you—thought you were pretty, funny, and a perfect match for her. What's not to like? Although she'd had her own struggles, she found your situation a bit more intense than hers, and she appreciated that. It wasn't that she enjoyed seeing you in pain; she hated that. Instead, she valued knowing that someone truly understood her. You weren't just someone saying, "I get your pain"—you were as messed up as she was.

Over time, your mom had given Nicole a key to your house, and she practically lived there. You two were inseparable. If she skipped class, you were right there with her. If you wanted to go out to eat, she suddenly became hungry too. And if she needed to use the bathroom, you were there waiting for her, which is how you ended up in your current situation.

Eventually, the toilet flushed with a final whoosh, and the door swung open. As Nicole washed up, you occupied yourself by scrolling through your messages, your thumb moving swiftly over the screen as you replied to old texts from friends. Nicole brushed past you, heading for the towels, her footsteps light on the bathroom tiles. You slipped your phone into your pocket and settled back, waiting for her to finish.

"you wanna get something to eat?"

[jake-s-azaleea]

Dancing with our hands tied

Duskwood one shot

pairing: Jake X mc

warnings: I'm the best writer y'all know

a fanfic I promised in the comments of an incorrect quote 🤍

(if y'all didn't get it, the title is from a Taylor Swift song)

***

As time flowed onward, the band of companions who weathered a profound loss gravitated towards one another, forging bonds more profound than ever. MC relocated to Duskwood, taking up residence in a dwelling near Lilly's place of employment, while Jessy and Dan found themselves employed at Phil's Bar, with Jessy immersed in administrative tasks behind the scenes. Cleo remained dedicated to her mother's ventures, and Thomas... his frequent companionship with Hannah hinted at a blossoming connection. Their unity grew steadfast as they discovered solace in each other's presence.

Jake, still evading capture, continued his fugitive existence. With the case concluded, he no longer needed to risk himself as he did in the past, allowing him to slip away for extended periods, evading detection until his trail could be picked up once more. The winding roads beckoned him toward his elusive destination, guiding him to where he felt he truly belonged- Next to her.

It's been a year and everything feels normal. The Pine Glade Festival was getting closer and Jessy planned a whole day of activities for them.

They were all staying at Aurora at a table listening to her and the perfect fantasy she imagined.She looked like she was getting her colour back into her face after all this time. She looked more content, her eyes reflecting a newfound sense of peace. It's a subtle shift, but one that speaks volumes. She was destroyed after the incident and didn't speak to anyone for a whole month.

a part of her died in that fire.

But now they were all so invested in her plans for a perfect day. The road to the waterfall was now opened and she wanted so badly to go there. the others just agreed and smiled at her.

A few days passed and the Pine Glade Festival came. They were supposed to meet there at 6 PM.

***

You grab your phone, keys and wallet and head towards the center of the town. The sun lingered in the sky, casting its gentle glow over the town, its pale rays painting the streets with a comforting warmth. As daylight stretched its fingers across the rooftops and cobblestone paths, the town seemed to bask in a tranquil embrace, a serene moment captured in the soft light of day.

You get there pretty early, but your train of thoughts is stopped by the sound of your phone buzzing.

Jake: I see you.

You sigh, your lips curving into a small smile. 'Of course you do' you thought to yourself.

You glance around and catch sight of him standing by a terrace, clad in a black hoodie. Despite the distance veiling his eyes, his shy smile is unmistakable, a subtle yet intriguing expression that hints at hidden depths beneath the surface. You sprint towards him, your heart racing with anticipation, and envelop him in a tight embrace, your arms encircling his neck in a moment of closeness and connection. The rush of emotions floods through you, mingling with the thrill of the unexpected encounter in the midst of the mysterious setting.

His gaze meets yours, a silent exchange of emotions and unspoken words

"Hi there"

"Hello, MC."

"We should get going, the others must be waiting for us."

"After you." he said smiling, his gestures expressing for you to lead the way.

You two walk in a comfortable silence most of the way until you see the others in distance. As you approach them, Jake's gaze meets yours:

"How are you feeling?"

"I will be fine"

He sighs and puts his hand on the small of your back, slowly closing the distance between you and your friends. He knew what this day meant to you. Losing Richy must still sting after all this time and being here after a year... Perhaps torture.

"Hello guys"

"Hi, MC! Hi, Jake! I'm so glad you could make it here" Jessy exclaimed happily.

"Oh, me too, you have no idea" you said smiling warmly.

You warmly greeted everyone and embarked on a journey through the festival, immersing yourself in every game and delight it had to offer, savoring each moment of joy and excitement. You anchored yourself in these moments, enjoying them wholeheartedly next to your friends.

You found yourself in a spot where the music was enchanting, and the atmosphere was filled with joy as people danced and had a great time.

Thomas and Hannah flew like two lovebirds towards the platform and started dancing, their movements as light as a feather. The sheer joy radiating from them was truly enchanting, spreading like a sweet melody through the air: it was just intoxicating. Jessy led the charge, followed by Cleo, Lilly, and Dan, while you and Jake strolled behind, soaking in the magical moment. The scene was filled with energy and excitement, creating a vibrant and lively atmosphere.

As you were walking quietly and listening to the music, you decide to break the silence.

"Do you dance?"

"No." he said without looking in your direction.

"Oh, alright."

"Ask me anyway"

"Do you want to dance with me?"

"Yes." he said glancing at you.

You smiled, maintaining eye contact as you got to the dance floor.

He extended his hand for you to grasp, guiding you onto the platform. As the music enveloped you both, you began to dance as if the melody was composed solely for the two of you. With each note, Jake skillfully led you in the dance, creating a harmonious and captivating rhythm between you.

After a few songs, a slow one began, and he drew you near, enveloping you in the gentle embrace of the music. The closeness between you two added a layer of intimacy to the dance, intensifying the emotions shared in that moment.

"When did you learn how to dance?" you asked.

"I figured you might want to dance today so... I did my research."

"You learnt to dance for me?"

He said nothing in return but tightened his embrace.

Maybe home has a heartbeat 🤍

****

I just loved writing this

prompts to @duskwood-mc-art for inspiring me to write it

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 12

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Angst, tension??, angstangstangst

₊˚✩⊹

Four was worried. It’s been almost 5 days since the brawl at the Yiga clan hideout and you’ve barely spoken to anyone. At first, he brushed it off as being an aftershock, after all you were unconscious for the first 24-hours after the incident. But almost a week of not being your usual self? He was getting very worried.

You barely ate, picking at your food most of the time. Wild’s attempts at making your favorites didn’t help much either. You tossed and turned most nights, ending up sitting on your bedroll from the latest hours of the night, into the first rays of a new day. Your eyes were so so dull, you looked like a husk of yourself, as if someone tried to make a replica of you. As if someone could ever compare or replace you.

Four watched as you made your way over to him, sitting between him and Wind.

“If one of you asks me if I’m alright I’m going to kick your kneecaps in.”

“Got it.” Wind replies.

Four sighs, focusing back onto sharpening his blade. It was a small knife, the blade itself shorter than his forearm. It was his go-to when it came to small daggers, so he sharpened it every few days or so to keep it in pristine capability.

“Had enough of Cap and the Old man, huh?” Four mumbles, trying to look preoccupied. 

“Just tired of the contant looming over my shoulder and treating me like a damn vase.”

He nods. 

Wind groans lightly, “Ugh, tell me about it. They can’t see past me being a 12-year old, regardless if I fuckin’ killed Ganon or not.” He pulls out a small flask from his bag, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Since when do you drink?”

“Since when do you care?”

You back off, clearly it's a touchy subject.

“Sorry, Y/n.”

“All good.”

The night continues, Wind eventually setting up his bedroll to go to sleep. He shuffles up to Sky, who was out about half an hour ago, already somehow in deep sleep. The group relocated to a stable on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, the plan of going to the Arbiter’s Grounds being delayed, yet again.

You sigh, “I don’t know what to do anymore, Four. I’m just so… lost.”

He puts his dagger down, sheathing it. He looks at you, your face illuminated by the low light produced by the embers.

“Is this about your journey?”

You nodded. You could feel the tears already starting to leak from your eyes.

“Is it ok if I touch you, Y/n?”

You nod again, hiccuping lightly.

He scoots right next to you, putting your arm around your form and rubbing your arm slowly. Placing his chin on your head, he lets you cuddle up to him, crying softly into his chest. He combed his fingers through your hair, placing a light kiss on your head.

“I’m right here, Y/n. I’m here. Shhh.” he cradles you, holding you slightly tighter whenever a particularly louder wave of cries comes out of you. Legend was still awake, as it was his turn for watch, a solemn look on his face while he looked at you.

“E-Everything’s changing and I-I’m being left in the dark-” you hiccup, sobbing harder into Four’s chest. Four’s hold tightens on you again.

“What do you mean, Y/n?”

You gasp, “I could’ve-”

You breathe in again, “Everyone is acting different towards me and I know its all m-my fault because I don’t know what I fucking want.”

“I don’t think anyone knows what they want, baby.”

“I thought I did. I wanted to go home but after some stuff that’s happened recently… I don’t know. Is that selfish of me?”

Four shakes his head, “Of course not. Changing your mind in the process is natural.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m splitting myself into two versions of myself? One that’s in Hyrule and one that’s in my era.”

Four sighs dejectedly, placing another kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know, Y/n. I don’t know.”

~

A new dawn breaks over the horizon, shining onto the dew settled over Hyrule Field, the light fog dissipating. You fluttered your eyes open, your body scrunched up between Twilight and Hyrule, who were still in deep sleep. Feeling antsy, you climb over them and make your way to Wild, who was already awake, prepping breakfast.

He looked tired. You both were.

“Hey.” you rasped, your voice still hoarse from the crying of the evening before.

He looks at you, and gives you a small, tightlipped smile. He was swiping through his slate, gathering ingredients for breakfast. You placed your hand over his, causing him to halt in his actions. You both don’t move for a minute.

He slumps forward, face in his hands. Shakily, he says, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. If I didn’t leave you alone this could’ve all been prevented.”

You shake your head, “None of us knew, Wild. Riju didn’t know, Time didn’t. It’s not your fault, it was an accident.”

You bring him to lean against you, the slate being long forgotten about on the ground.

“I shouldn’t have wandered off, you literally told me not too. I’m partially at fault too.”

You chuckle, “And look where my stubborn self got me.” That seemed to make Wild crack a smile, making the tinge in your heart diminish. 

“You do have a hard time listening.” he said, you just give him a playful nudge.

“Har har, speak for yourself blondie.”

You both sit in comfortable silence, Wild going back to picking out ingredients on his slate. A thought pops into your head, “Wild, can I take a look at the mirror shard again? I wanna compare some of the hieroglyphics to the book Shad gave me.”

He tenses up slightly, but it quickly goes away, pulling out the shard from the slate. He carefully places the shard on your legs, making sure the sharp edge doesn’t cut your leg. Pulling out the Encyclopedia, you turn to the chapter about the Twili tribe.

You run your fingers along the markings on the mirror, lightly engraved into the mirror. Unsurprisingly, there were no visual differences from the shard in your lap and the mirror on the page, meaning this wasn’t just a replica but the real thing. Before you could continue reading, Twilight walks up behind you two, making you close the book and put the mirror away. You could read at a later time.

“Hey pup, Y/n.” Twilight mutters, voice raspy with sleep. Curse his bedroom voice making you weak.

You just waved, not trusting your voice at the moment. He sits next to you, you now sitting between him and Wild. You can feel his eyes on you, you glance at him asking “What?”

He still gazes at you, flickering his eyesight to Wild, then back to you.

“Oh, nothin’. You two just seem cozy.”

Wild snaps his head at his mentor, “Shut up, Twi. Don’t think I don’t notice you making goo-goo eyes over there.”

“Right. Speak for ya self, pup.” he remarked, snorting at Wild’s fumbling. You smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

A moment of silence passes, just the sound of the breeze blowing past your ears, causing stray hairs to stream over your face. The clouds seemed gray today, but not like an imposing storm was about to break, no, more peaceful. Serene.

“What are you guys going to do once this is all done and over with?” you ask, not really knowing where the question came from.

“Jeez I don’t know, probably go home and help around Hateno and the princess. I know she’s building a school for the village.” Wild says, looking out onto the terrain.

Twilight ponders for a moment. He didn’t really think about what he was going to do once this was over and once… you left. He never really thought you’d leave, especially now that it feels so soon and abrupt, he’s dreading his future.

“Don’t know, to be honest. Go back to Ordon, help Rusl and with the farm. Make sure the kingdom ain’t in shambles.” he lied. That was the last thing he wanted to do after all of this. He didn’t want to return after knowing what it's like not being alone anymore. He was left behind once, he didn’t want it again.

“You’re a terrible liar, Twi.”

“What? No I’m not-”

“Your ears twitch when you lie.”

“It’s true.” Wild muttered, resulting in a slap up the back of his head from Twi.

Twilight sighed. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned to you “Truth is… I didn’t think this would end. Don’t get me wrong, I love home and bein’ with everyone it’s just… after I’ve found people who know what it’s like to carry this burden, I don’t think I want anything else.”

You hated this feeling of guilt you were starting to feel about going home. You didn’t belong here, you weren’t meant to be here, unlike them. You needed to go home, forget everything, or at least regard it as a really good dream. 

But it’s not that simple, is it?

“I don’t want to leave you guys. I really don’t. I’ve become so attached to this life and all of you and I feel… heartbroken.” you sighed, laying on your back, blades of grass digging slightly into your exposed skin. 

“I mean… you don’t have to. I may be wrong saying that, but Hylia isn’t necessarily pulling you into a portal to go home.” Wild offers, choosing his words carefully.

You groan in frustration, “I know, I know. But its so much more difficult. Like, yeah I won’t have to deal with stupid shit like college classes or working my entire life for a mediocre job, but… my brother and my aunt are home and they need help. I have a few friends that are probably wondering where I’ve been and if I’m ok. I don’t want them to worry for me and my life, knowing that makes me feel so much worse, y’know?”

Both men nodded, relating to your thoughts on some level. Their adventures weren’t by choice and pulled them away from their friends and family without a warning. A burden that can’t be undone or altered.

“Either way, you didn’t have much of a choice. You were sucked in the portal as well, a quest destined for you, as well.” Hyrule spoke, quietly padding up to you three.

You snort, “Have you been listening this entrie time, Rulie?” 

“Eh, bits n’ pieces. The others are waking up anyways.”

You sit back up and decided to be productive for another 20-30 minutes, as Wild was just barely starting to cook breakfast. From what you could tell, it looked to be a sweeter meal this morning.

You looked back at the book, reading through the script. You were sitting against Twilight, a nice support for your back. You tried to not pay attention to his warm breath on your neck or the feeling of his eyes on you, but that was easier said than done. 

You zoned out everyone’s chatter, finally focusing on the task at hand. You took the mirror back out again and tore a spare piece of paper from an old journal a merchant gave you, using an old piece of charcoal to transfer the engravings of the mirror onto the paper so you could compare with less physical effort and so Wild could keep the shard in his Slate whenever you needed to reference the imagery again. The hieroglyphics transferred seamlessly, the paper seemingly identical to the mirror.

Looking back to the book, you filled in the missing shards and any images/lettering that faded or was carved off for reasons unknown. You then pulled away, looking at your work. Not too shabby.

But you noticed something peculiar. The mirror in the book had straight lines that overlapped the ornate designs, almost as if someone carved them in years after its initial creation. It wasn’t messy by any means, though it seemed that it wasn’t the initial design of the mirror. 

What if…?

“Four, I need a small blade really quick.” you said, not taking your eyes off of your drawing.

He was about to say something, but Legend beat him to it, handing you a small blade just slightly longer than your palm. Muttering a ‘thanks’, you start cutting the paper along the lines that you copied, making sure to keep your hand steady. Once you finished, you handed the blade back to Legend, then focused back onto the scraps of paper in front of you.

You started rearranging the pieces, aligning each piece with the associated shape or side. The pieces started forming a familiar shape, but something was different. Something you should’ve seen before. Something everyone should’ve seen.

“What is it, Y/n?”

You look up at Twilight.

“It’s not a triforce, Link. It’s a tetraforce.”

₊˚✩⊹

[late-to-the-party-81]

The best laid plans

AN: It’s so fluffy!!!! This is my first fill for this year’s ‘Into an alternate Juni-verse” and when I got Surgeon AU on my card I knew I had to revisit this pairing from last year's event…You don’t need to read it to understand this fic, but it will give you more context.

A big thanks to @metalbvcky for spitballing and cheerleading

Beta’d by the wonderful @drabbles-mc

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Bingo Fills - 

@stuckybingo G3: Migraines

@steverogersbingo D2: Monica Rambeau

Build a Bucky Bingo by @buckybarnesevents: Feb: Forehead kisses

Into an Alternate Juni-verse by @buckybarnesevents : AU: Surgeon

@caplanbuckybarnes Weekly Writing Challenge Week 1; “Holding you like this is where I’m happiest.”

Master list | Alternate Juni-verse Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List | SRB Master list | BaBB Master List

Summary: With Steve’s hectic work schedule, their relationship was never going to be plain-sailing, but they have an uninterrupted 48 hours coming up. Surely nothing will go wrong?

Relationship: Small Doctor Steve Rogers x Bookstore Owner Bucky Barnes

Word count: 3.8k

CW: Modern AU, Fluff, Insinuation of spicy time, Bucky and Nat friendship, Teasing, descriptions of migraine, caring Bucky, Hurt/Comfort, suggestive and happy ending, implied bottom Bucky.

Steve was well aware of how his life was currently a study in contrasts. On the one hand there was the hustle and bustle and bright lights of the hospital and on the other, the cosy warmth of the bookshop where Bucky worked and Steve spent a lot of his off hours. There was the inherent stress involved in working in the ER, with the requirement he always be ‘switched on’, but then there was the gentle pace that life with Bucky forced him into.

Bucky.

He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed since those two chance encounters nine months ago, one in a bar and the other right here in the ER.

Steve hadn’t been looking for anything, heart still raw from a break-up that had seen him upsticks and relocate from Los Angeles to New York, but something about Bucky had gotten under his guard. After their unexpected reunion in the hospital following a very memorable one-night stand, Steve had known there was no way he could go on without the young bookstore owner in his life.

They were taking it one step at a time though. Steve’s job was obviously full-on, especially so as he’d decided to continue working towards becoming a surgeon, something he’d done most of the work for out in California. Between his ER shifts, and the work for his qualification, both practical and theoretical, they sometimes went days without seeing each other and Steve didn’t want to force Bucky into something he wasn’t able to cope with - there was a reason why a large number of people in the medical field struggled to maintain relationships.

Therefore he maintained his apartment, and Bucky still had his own over his shop. Admittedly that warm, lived-in space, as small and covered in white cat fur as it was, felt more like home to Steve than his larger, pristine loft that still looked like something out of a brochure. Also, Bucky’s place was a lot closer to the hospital than his. It made sense, really, to spend most of his time there. He kept thinking about ‘taking the next step’, but something was stopping him.

Steve let out a sigh. He hadn’t seen Bucky in a full 48 hours now, and there was still another six to go until he could leave.

Today was an observation day, where Steve would be watching his mentor while she performed a heart by-pass and she would ask him questions as she did so. He was excited for it, but even that couldn’t dull the ache within him which he knew would only be soothed by a Bucky-hug ™.

He watched Doctor Rambeau - Monica - scrub up, dexterously turning off the tap with her elbow, and then waited for her to move out of the space so he could do the same. He might not be performing the operation, but he still had to follow all the protocols. He knew what an honour this was, having her as his mentor. She was one of the best in her field, and under her tutelage he knew he would be able to make a difference to so many people. With his own history of health issues, he knew what it was like to have his life saved and was ready to pay it forwards. 

“You ready, Doctor Rogers?” He turned to see one perfectly shaped eyebrow rise at him from behind an eye-shield.

“Absolutely. Lead on, Doctor Rambeau.” He knew his smile was hidden behind his mask, but hopefully she would hear it in his voice and see it in the crinkles around his eyes. He suspected not much got past her. The junior doctors were always making remarks about how Doctor Rambeau could see things that other mere mortals couldn’t.

“Soooo,” Nat drawled out and Bucky got ready for another round of being teased. “You’re seeing him tonight?”

“Yes,” replied Bucky. “He’s coming over after his observation shift and then he’s off for the next two days. Don’t expect to see much of me outside of work hours.” He waggled his eyebrows at his best friend and grinned as she rolled her eyes in return.

“Don’t I know it. If it wasn’t for his shifts I doubt I’d see you at all.” Despite her words, Bucky could hear the joking affection in her voice. However, what was the point in being best friends if you didn’t wind each other up at every available opportunity?

“You’re one to talk? How are you and Doctor Wilson going? I know he knows his way around….” Bucky’s dig at Sam’s field of specialisation was cut off by Nat placing her finger over his lips.

“Shush, you. We’re going just fine. Keeping it casual. He’s busy. I’m busy. Who wants to put labels on things?”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “Whatever you say, Natty-Nat-Nat. I believe you, thousands wouldn’t.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and then grabbed another armful of books to reshelve. “So apart from fucking, what have you got planned?”

Bucky shrugged. “Not a lot. Depends on how wiped out he is. Dinner tonight - I’m making lasagne - and a film. Probably far too much wine. Tomorrow? Maybe the Brooklyn Museum, and lunch. I know he wants me to test him on some theory, so I need to limber up my tongue so I can say complicated words I don’t understand.”

“Please don’t tell me how you’re going to limber it up,” Nat said with a snort, and Bucky squashed down the urge to throw a book at her. He knew from his own painful experience what it felt like to have a hardback, or several, bounce off his face. The only upside of that situation had been that he’d seen Steve again and gotten his number, even if it had been mortifying at the time.

“Things are still going well, then?” Nat questioned more softly.

“Absolutely.” Bucky let out a sigh as he thought about his diminutive blond boyfriend. Even before their eyes had met across the bar he’d been intrigued. There had been something in Steve’s movements, the way his fingers had held - near caressed - his beer bottle, that had filled Bucky with want.

That feeling hadn’t waned over the past months, and while he inevitably got frustrated when Steve’s shifts kept them apart, he also had an inkling that the periods of separation were also what had kept them in the ‘honeymoon’ phase so long. It heightened the anticipation, and when they did get to spend time together? Well it was a good thing that Bucky had no neighbours and Steve’s apartment had thick walls.

Bucky had always had voracious… appetites… but had been more than pleasantly surprised when Steve proved that he could, most of the time at least, keep up with him. He also hadn’t thought that such an outwardly respectable doctor could be so kinky, but….

“Earth to Barnes!” Nat snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Stop thinking about Steve’s dick on work time.” 

He pouted at her. “Spoilsport. And anyway, it wasn’t his dick I was thinking about, it was his fing–”

Nat threw her hands up over her ears. “LA-LA-LA,” she shouted before walking back towards the front desk and the customers who had just walked through the door. Bucky giggled and continued to restack books while indulging in his daydreams.

Steve slowly pushed the surgical gown down his arms with a sigh and winced at the bright lights in the scrub room. He hadn’t even been doing any of the heavy lifting during that op, but he still felt absolutely wrung out. However, it had been the most wonderful experience, getting to see Monica performing the by-pass so assuredly and asking her questions as she did so. He was also proud of the fact that he’d been able to answer her questions too, although those had been more inquisitorial than plain curious like his. But it was the end of his shift now - more or less on time too, for a change - and he couldn’t wait to get to Bucky’s apartment and relax in the arms of his boyfriend for two whole days.

He washed up and said good-bye to Monica and the rest of the surgical team and headed towards the staff room and the locker containing his street clothes, keys, and wallet - he hadn’t spent this much time in scrubs since medical school. As he made his way along the white walled corridors, the sounds of a hospital at work swirled around him - the beeping of machines, pained cries of the young and old, the urgent, hushed conversations of other medical professionals, the weeping of family members and loved ones. He liked to think that he was partially immune to these noises - they were the soundtrack to his daily life after all, but for some reason, they felt rawer than usual, scraping across his bones like nails down a chalkboard, and Steve couldn’t hold back an involuntary shudder. The fluorescent lights in the ceiling appeared to be taunting him too, their beams piercing his eyeballs and the almost inaudible humming making his teeth itch.

“Bucky,” he muttered to himself. “I just need to get home to Bucky, then I’ll feel better.”

When Steve finally made his way outside the sky was dark, but the streets were lit up with street lamps and car headlights. Each shaft of light felt like a needle sliding into his brain via his temples and he took a deep breath in through his nose to stave off a wave of dizziness. 

There was a light drizzle in the air, making it blessedly cool, and despite the damp Steve decided to walk to Bucky’s apartment instead of schlepping it on the much dryer, but ultimately more cramped and warm, subway. It took him longer than anticipated though, his shoes feeling like lead weights upon his feet, getting heavier and heavier with every step.

Finally, he reached the bookstore, the interior shrouded in darkness, but with lights shining from the windows above. Steve walked, half staggered, down the alley at the side and let himself in through the door that would lead him up the stairs and to Bucky. He was glad that Bucky had given him a key a few months back, otherwise he would have had to wait in the rain while Bucky came downstairs to let him in. That had happened enough times at the beginning that Steve was now very much over that part of their relationship. Having keys felt good. What didn’t feel good though were his sodden socks, or his throbbing eyeballs.

He trudged up the stairs, each step harder than the last, until he reached the top and all but fell through the interior door. Bucky must have heard him because Steve’s name was called out joyfully, a sound that normally made his heart leap in his chest, but in this moment, all he could do was let out a pained whimper as Bucky’s voice cut through his brain like a chainsaw.

He heard Bucky’s footsteps get closer and he squinted against the brightness of the room.

“Hey, Stevie!”

Bucky pulled him into a rough hug, squishing Steve’s face against the ubiquitous black t-shirt he always seemed to wear on days he was working. The smell of Bucky’s cologne, normally one of his favourite scents, assailed his nose, combining with the smell of garlic that permeated the apartment and Steve felt his stomach roll.

“Buck… please,” he slurred as he uncharacteristically pushed himself away from his boyfriend’s embrace. Everything around him just felt like too much and he felt himself tip backwards against the wall.

“Oh, Steve. You don’t look too hot.” Bucky’s voice was full of concern, and Steve was sure that if he could manage to focus properly, he’d be able to see Bucky’s dark brows pulled together in a frown. 

“Jeez, thanks,” he managed to push out with a small upturn to his lips. “Just what I wanted to hear after not seeing you for two days.” He closed his eyes, intending to do so for just a moment, and felt the ringing pain in his head lessen minutely.

Bucky’s body brushed against him as his holdall was taken from him by gentle hands and his coat was slipped from his shoulders.

“Is it a migraine?” Bucky had modulated his voice to a whisper and Steve decided that he hadn’t ever been so glad for anything in his life.

Eyes still closed, he nodded and let out a noise of confirmation from his lips. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to bed then. I’m prescribing Advil, earplugs, an eye-mask and an early night.”

Steve snorted and instantly regretted it. “I thought I was the doctor here?” he quipped, his voice low and gravelly.

“You are,” Bucky replied, his lips brushing Steve’s temple. “But I’m the boyfriend, so what I say, goes.”

“Is that so?” Steve queried, a note of amusement in his voice.

“Very much so,” Bucky confirmed. “Now you keep your eyes closed if you want, I’ll guide you.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but still kept his lids closed. He had a feeling it was the only reason he wasn’t throwing up right now.

“Such a mother hen,” he chastised without any real bite and allowed Bucky to steer him, arms looped together, through the small apartment. A soft bump against his ankle let him know that Alpine was now part of the proceedings.

“It’s why you love me. Right, you just sit down here…” Steve felt his shoulders clasped by Bucky’s hands and he sat down, completely trusting that he wouldn’t fall on his ass. “Can you manage to get undressed while I go find the pills?”

Steve cracked one eye open. “Sure. I love you, you know that?” Bucky shot him a soft smile, pressed another kiss to his forehead and then went through to the small bathroom, rattling around inside the cupboards.

Steve kicked off his shoes, glad he had on loafers that came off easily, and struggled out of his shirt. It felt like an octopus trying to envelope and suffocate him. He flopped down onto the mattress and squeezed his eyes shut again, feeling the bile begin to rise in his throat. Not only did this suck, big time, but he also felt so guilty, a feeling he vocalised when he felt the bed dip on Bucky’s return.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I know that this wasn’t what we had planned. What were you making for dinner?” He felt Bucky’s hands on the waistband of his slacks, deftly pulling them from his body in the most un-lust-filled, and therefore strangest, way possible.

“Lasagne, but it will keep until tomorrow. And you don’t need to apologise. These things happen and you have been working really hard. I’m actually surprised you didn’t have one of these sooner.”

Steve shuffled under the coverlet, letting out a sigh at the coolness of the sheets against his skin. Bucky pressed two tablets into his hand, and he propped himself upon his other elbow so he could pop them in his mouth, swallowing them down with a drink from the glass of water Bucky proffered him.

“I’ll make it up to you, Buck. I promise.”

“I know you will, you lug. But for now here’s the eye mask.” Soft satin was placed over his head, settling over his eyes and helping to black out the last of the light making it through his eyelids. “And here are the ear plugs.” Bucky dropped them into Steve’s palm and curled his fingers shut over them. “Now don’t worry about me,” he placated. “I have a whole garlic bread and a salad to make my way through, plus a date at Stars Hollow with Lorelai. I’ll be fine. We’ll pick this up tomorrow if you’re feeling better, and if you’re not I’ll just pump you full of drugs until you are.”

Steve smiled into the darkness. “You know that’s not how that works?”

Bucky placed his finger over Steve’s lips. “Ssh, sexy Doctor Boyfriend has spoken. Sleep now.” He moved his finger and replaced it with his lips, kissing Steve softly.

“Sir, yes Sir,” Steve replied, bringing his hand up in salute.

“Punk. Sleep well. I’ll come cuddle you later.”

“I will, jerk. And thank you.”

He heard Bucky mumble under his breath and then pad across the room before he pushed the earplugs into his ears, cocooning himself in silence to go along with the darkness, and snuggled down into the sheets to pass out.

Bucky closed the bedroom door with a soft ‘click’ and padded back through to the living room, trying to quell the disappointment. It wasn’t Steve’s fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Migraines happened, and he hadn’t been lying when he’d said it was a surprise that Steve hadn’t had one already - he really had been pushing himself to the limit. But, Bucky supposed, that was one of the things that made him love Steve. His tenaciousness, bordering on stubbornness, was endearing, and was probably one of the main reasons they were still together. He wasn’t going to lie - those early days had been tough, but Steve had found every spare moment he could and made it available to Bucky, whether that was hanging out at the bookshop during the day in the middle of a split shift, or rolling into the apartment just to curl up beside him in bed for the eight hours between the end of a late shift and the start of an early one. There were the surprise DoorDash deliveries when a shift had run over and dinner plans had had to be cancelled and Steve knew Bucky wouldn’t have anything in. There were the long nights of loving and the frantic, heated quickies and everything in between. And he couldn’t be prouder of what Steve was achieving right now. Once he’d passed his surgeon’s qualification things should get better for them - less double shifts, although probably more that would run over. Swings and roundabouts he supposed.

Crossing to the small kitchenette, Bucky pulled out the lasagne, watching the cheese and white sauce bubble on the top as he placed it on a trivet to cool. He was glad he’d cooked something that wouldn’t spoil from not being eaten right now. He then picked up the bowl of salad, and the garlic bread that had been keeping warm in the toaster oven, and meandered over to the couch. As he ate and watched the residents of Star Hollow navigate complex family relationships, Bucky realised that even though he was in this room and Steve was asleep in the bedroom, he didn’t feel alone. He could feel Steve’s presence in his home and it just felt so right.

A couple of hours later he snuck quietly into the bedroom, the only sound the soft snores emanating from Steve’s mouth. He brushed his teeth in the bathroom, careful to only turn the light on after he’d entered and turn it off before he exited, and then tip-toed over to the bed with only the light from the street outside to illuminate his way.  He slipped in behind Steve and gently tugged him into a hug. Steve mumbled in his sleep, but didn’t wake.

Bucky reached up to lightly stroke over the top of Steve’s head and pressed a kiss to his bony shoulder blade.

“I love you, Stevie,” he whispered. “Holding you like this is where I’m happiest.”

Maybe tomorrow would be the day he took a leap of faith and asked Steve to move in with him?

When Steve woke he felt entirely disorientated. It took him a moment to remember what had happened the night before, and when he pulled out the earplugs and lifted the eye-mask he was happy to note that the stabbing pain in his head had reduced to a dull throb. He blinked a few times to get the sleep from his eyes and then focused on the clock next to the bed. 

12:37pm

He’d been asleep for almost eighteen hours!

The bed beside him was cold, indicating that even his slug-abed boyfriend had gotten bored with sleeping at some point and decided to get up. He had vague recollections of being pulled against Bucky’s front in the night, but that was it. He frowned to himself - he’d gone far too long without consciously touching him, something that he needed to rectify immediately.

He pushed himself upright, and took a long drink from the water glass next to the clock. He still remembered the first time he’d woken up in this bed, in the middle of the night and getting ready to make a hasty exit after an alcohol fueled hook-up. Now he didn’t think there was anywhere he’d rather be than right here. 

From the end of the bed, Alpine lifted her head and narrowly opened her eyes, obviously not happy to be disturbed from her slumber. Steve reached out and scratched her under her chin in apology.

When he stood, it was on slightly wobbly legs, and he took a moment to grab a pair of sweats from Bucky’s drawer, taking care to pull the drawstring tight and roll the waistband over. Steve then walked quietly through to the living room, stopping to lean on the back of the sofa as he watched an oblivious Bucky, also only in sweats, singing along to the radio, a spatula in hand acting like a microphone, as he made a grilled cheese sandwich. It was the cutest thing Steve thought he’d ever seen and it just made him want Bucky more.

Steve padded closer, and when he reached out to touch Bucky’s shoulder, Bucky jumped with a shriek.

“Jeez, Steve. You scared me.”

Steve grinned at him and looped his arms around Bucky’s waist, drawing him closer and nuzzling at his neck.

“I’m sorry, baby. Maybe I can make it up to you?”

Bucky let out an amused chuckle. “So you owe me twice, that’s what I’m hearing. You feeling better then?”

Steve fastened his mouth to Bucky’s throat and gave it a suck, creating a dark pink patch on Bucky’s already flushed skin. “Absolutely. Although I can think of something else that will make me feel even better.”

“I bet you can,” replied Bucky with another giggle. “Do I have enough time to eat my grilled cheese, or…” he trailed off as Steve pushed his hand under Bucky’s waistband. “Oh! L-let me just turn this off…” Steve smiled into Bucky’s skin as he leant across to turn the stove dial and move his pan onto a cold ring. “Okay - you were saying?”

God, how Steve loved this man. The hand he had down Bucky’s sweats and shorts moved - encompassed -  and Steve watched as Bucky’s eyelids fluttered, his dark lashes fanning his cheeks, and how his mouth dropped open into an “O” shape. First he was going to do what he hadn’t been able to last night and then he was definitely going to ask Bucky if they could move in together.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @crayongirl-linz, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

[addledmongoose]

A Generic Guide To Emigrating From The US

For Americans, I'm going to give a generic rundown of the steps you need to take if you should decide you want or need to move out of the US. I can't give specific information, not even for Mexico, because it changes a lot, but these steps are going to be fairly standard for any country.

Step 1: Check the immigration requirements for the country/countries you're considering. There's a very big difference between visiting as a tourist and moving, and no country has to allow you in. You will always be a guest in the country to some extent, unless you become a citizen.

There's usually an income or savings requirement, and it's likely to be above what the average citizen of that country needs. For example, in Mexico, for temporary residency (up to 4 years), you need a minimum net income of "US$4,350 per month, every month, over the last 6 months." Income doesn't have to mean a job; it can mean retirement accounts, dividends, etc. And make sure you're at least somewhat closer to being ready to go, because these things change all the time. (Temp residency in Mexico will (should) transfer to perm residency after four years if you want it without the additional income requirement).

There can also be other requirements, but every country is different. Check host relocation services in the country in question. They may have a blog or a way to ask questions, and even if they charge for a Zoom meeting, they're probably cheaper than an immigration attorney for basic questions.

Step 2: You find you meet the requirements, now what? While you're gathering up all the documents you need, you need to be actively paring down your possessions. How much you pare down is a personal choice. (We moved with three suitcases and three cat carriers, then two more suitcases worth of stuff we'd stored with my parents when we returned to the US for the holidays the next year). We spent two years getting rid of everything (but admittedly, a death in the family and then COVID shoved our plans back by a year and change, so we went a little slower than necessary).

Ebay, thrift stores, garage sales, giving to friends and family. Get rid of as much stuff as you feel comfortable with, because shipping your possessions is expensive. Yes, that means you're going to be rebuying a lot of stuff, but it's probably cheaper to rebuy that spatula than to ship it.

Also, do as much research on your host country as you can. Culture. Some history. Start trying to learn the language if you don't know it, so you can at least handle basic greetings and such. There are things you wont know until you get there, but do your best.

Step 3: You need a bank account that works well for immigrants. We have Charles Schwab, because they don't have minimum balance requirements for setting up an account, they let you make as many accounts as you want under your username, you can photograph checks with the app to deposit them, and they refund ATM fees. But I'm sure there are others. Don't get rid of your local bank account, though. You'll still need it for now.

Step 4: You'll need a mailbox service in the US. We use Traveling Mailbox, but there are plenty of others. You want one with a good reputation, because they'll be opening financial documents, checks, and credit cards on your behalf. That'll be your new address of residence for the US. Your US mail gets sent there; they scan it for you; and you decide if you want to download it, mail it to yourself or another address (I usually mail it to my parents to pick up during the holidays), or shred it. While you're doing that, also try to stop as much mail as possible, because they usually have limits on the number of monthly scans.

Step 5: A couple weeks before you leave, go to your bank (not Schwab, they don't have physical locations like traditional banks) and get some of your host country's currency. You'll get the best exchange rate that way, and it'll help you out in the first few weeks, even if your host country is very digital. (I can use my US credit cards almost everywhere but some small tienditas, but we still keep pesos around).

Step 6: Don't try to do the immigration process yourself! Even if you speak the language. Immigration is a whole beast, and if you mess it up badly enough, you could even find yourself permanently banned from the country (unlikely but not impossible). Either use an immigration attorney or a host relocation service. I can't say which one is best, because it's going to depend on your host country. (For Mexico, at least three years ago, you don't need one until you actually arrive in Mexico to finish the immigration process).

Step 7: If you aren't fluent in the language, don't be afraid to hire someone bilingual for bigger purchases like buying a house or a car. You can get through day-to-day stuff without being fluent, but you don't want to mess up your house purchase because you can't communicate with your real estate agent. (And do make an active effort to acquire the language skills. It's polite, and it'll make your life a lot easier).

And once again, you're a guest in the country. There will be things you like about your new country; things you don't like; and things that are different but not better or worse. You'll have to accept all of it, and it's not your job to come in and try to change things.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Aphelion - 11

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, discussion of the past, mentions of violence, blood and death, mention of self-harm, NSFW, vampirism, biting

Word Count: 16,754

Summary: Oberyn has already told you that it's been 400 years since he last used his mark of protection on someone that he cared about, but when you learn why he stopped using it - and how that decision has shaped his life since then - it sheds new light on what it means that he used it on you. And so does what happens after he shares this with you.

The plan for dealing with the Lannisters is in place, and preparations continue throughout the week - until Toban and Tyene surprise you with something unexpected but extremely welcome.

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN FROM @something-tofightfor & I! We hope that your spooky season is full of fun, treats, and just the right amount of scares. We also hope that you all enjoy this mega-packed chapter! This story continues to be so much fun for us to work on, and we're both really excited about this update and what's still to come. Thank you from the bottoms of our hearts to everyone who has interacted with this story - your comments and reactions make us very happy ghouls.

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

It took him more than a few seconds to gather his thoughts, but Oberyn’s hold on you never wavered. You stared out and over the city, the lights glittering in the distance, and you let yourself think again about everything that had happened in the previous hours. No, not just hours … days. 

But unlike Oberyn, you didn’t think silently. 

“I’m not sure if you know this, but …” Closing your eyes, you took a long breath. “If it wasn’t for Golden Lion and my job, I’d probably be in some shitty little apartment in the Midwest right now.” He hummed in response but didn’t speak, one of his hands moving slowly back and forth over your stomach. “I knew what I wanted to do with my life when I was a teenager, but I never really thought that I’d get hired by a company like theirs right out of college.” 

“They did something right, at least.” You snorted at his words, his irritation barely masked by amusement. “Was Golden Lion the first place you’ve worked?” 

“It was my first full time adult job, yeah. I did an internship with them my senior year of college and I guess they were impressed, but …” You shrugged. “They had more than 100 candidates apply for three open positions so I figured I’d get a “thanks but no thanks” letter after a few weeks and started applying to museums and historical programs in places like Michigan and Illinois and Ohio. But instead … I got a job offer with a relocation assistance stipend.” 

It had been one of the best days of your life, and even though you’d learned that Golden Lion - and the Lannisters especially - weren’t the people you’d thought they were, your time at the company had been worthwhile. It taught me so much and it brought me here. 

“They do have a knack for recruiting people with talent.” He sighed, lowering his lips to your shoulder again. “It is an annoying thing that has been true since … well, since the beginning.” 

You felt him smiling and you did, too, still staring out into the darkness. “I had a choice between working in New York, London, one of the Westeros office locations, or here.”

“And you chose California.” He kissed the side of your neck, breathing the next words into your ear. “The City of Angels.” You rolled your eyes every time Los Angeles was referred to that way, but when Oberyn said it, it had the opposite effect on you. I am a walking cliche when it comes to him. 

“I did. Westeros was tempting, just because of everything it would have allowed me to see, but I decided it was too far away for something that I didn’t know if I’d get to do for long. In London I would have been in a really small office and that wasn’t appealing. New York was …” You wrinkled your nose, even though he couldn’t see it. Never New York. “But California? I figured that even if the job didn’t work out, I’d have the beach. And then I met Nora and her friends and it turned out I really liked what I did for work - and most of my coworkers.” You spun to face him, finding that you were blinking back tears. 

You knew it was selfish - that after everything the Lannisters had done to the Martells and to the people Oberyn loved, you had no right to be so upset over something as trivial as your job. But it was important to me. It was a huge part of my life. Everything I worked for. 

“And I think that’s what the worst part of this is. Even though there were always ulterior motives to what they had me doing, it was … I liked it. I liked working for Golden Lion. I learned so much. I met so many people and worked on so many great projects, and …” You glanced up, lips pressed together. “And then I met you, and I realized that I knew so damn much, but I really knew nothing, even after all this time.” 

“Meeting me was the worst part?” He was teasing you, but when you met his eyes you saw concern in them, Oberyn barely concealing a frown as he watched you. “I don’t think that anyone has ever been so bold as to -” That made you laugh, both of your hands coming up to cover your face and wipe some of the tears away. 

“Yes, Oberyn. The worst. I meet an unreasonably hot man that just so happens to be the literal embodiment of every fantasy I’ve ever had in my entire life at a bar. Then two weeks later I’m standing with him on the balcony of a penthouse apartment so fucking nice that I have no business being anywhere near it. Oh, and I’m also wearing a mark of protection from him on my neck that means that he chose me, and -” 

Oberyn moved before you’d even registered it, gathering you in his arms and holding you tight against his chest, face turned down so that he could kiss the top of your head. “I do see how that might be terrible.” Inhaling deeply, you let yourself cry for a few seconds, Oberyn’s arms locked in place. “But you need to look at me.” 

You did, pulling back enough so that you could meet his gaze. The playfulness was still there, but Oberyn’s mood had shifted again, the man mostly serious. “What?” 

“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing the truth. Not many people do. Even those that are like me aren’t … they do not all come from Westeros, or have the same vendettas that we do. And even I have to admit, the things that the Lannisters have done to remain relevant throughout the years … it is impressive. It is even more impressive because like I said, they attract talented people, which means their relevancy lasts.” 

“Yeah, but it’s just … a cover. They used people like me to try and find you, Oberyn. You and your family, and -”

“But think about it.” He loosened his grip on you, taking a half step back and urging you to back up and against the low railing. “How much did you learn? How much did you archive? How much will the records you created teach others? Yes, the end goal was for Lannister benefit, but overall, you’ve done more good for Westeros than you know.” He reached up, fingers curling against your neck so that he could press his thumb to the mark he’d put there. It sent a tingle of heat through you, your lips parting and feet shuffling toward him, both hands rising so that you could grip his shirt. “You know now. And if… when this goes according to plan, I’m sure Tyrion will have no problem getting you back to your position, if that’s what you want. This plan will make him mortal, but getting rid of the rest of the Lannisters puts him at the head of the company by name and lineage, and I do not think that he will mind doing a small favor for me.” 

You hadn’t even thought of that - of the possibility that after everything was done, you could go back. But I’ll need to work. I don’t have thousands of years worth of finances saved somewhere, and I can’t pay my rent here without a job. “We’ll see. We need to get through the next …. When is the wedding again?” 

“The engagement party is next weekend. The wedding follows soon after. They are apparently following the Westerosi custom of the party being used as a lead-in to the main event, but that works in our favor.” 

“Yeah, there’s so much going on no one can have eyes everywhere.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Thank you for talking me down, Oberyn. I’m sorry I -”

“You never need to apologize to me.” He said your name, the man’s thumb and forefinger tilting your chin up so that you could see his wink. “For anything. I understand what you are going through, and I understand how much your life has changed.” Flattening your hands against his belly, you nodded and then took a deep breath. 

“If you say so. But I need to stop getting sidetracked. We have a lot to talk about and -” You were interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, Oberyn’s eyes immediately dropping at the sound. Shit. Of course he can hear that, he -

“When was the last time you ate?” He tweaked your chin, his smile widening. “It sounds like it’s been a while.” 

“I had some fruit while we talked to Tyrion, but it’s been … hours? Lunch, maybe? I don’t…remember.” You trailed off, frowning. Since the night of the Halloween party, your dining habits had been less than regular. The fact that no one in your company  ate at typical times wasn’t helping, either. “I should have something, though. Or else I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” 

“Stay here.” He nodded twice. “I’ll get you something and then… I’ll tell you about Cameron and Toban.” 

He disappeared back into the apartment, the door closing softly behind him. Once he was gone, you turned back to the railing, gripping it with both hands. You’d wasted time complaining about your job, but not too much, and you knew that even though it was late, there were still hours before sunrise. And he’ll want to stay out here as long as possible. 

Your head swirled with bits of information - what you knew about the Lannisters and the Martells, what you knew about Oberyn and Ellaria’s bond, the vow that Oberyn had made to himself the moment he’d been turned and learned what happened when someone turned others. And you knew that no matter how much time you had to understand it, it would never be enough. Unless that eternity that Toban mentioned is possible. That might be … 

Swiping one hand over your face, you hung your head, opening your eyes so that you could watch the cars on the street far below you. Tyene had offered to change you if you wanted it. Toban’s willingness to step in when necessary had already been tested, but you had a feeling that if he attempted the same thing a second time, even Ellaria’s interference wouldn’t protect him from Oberyn. But I don’t want either of those options. If it’s not Oberyn… it’s no one. 

Linking your fingers together, you stared out and over the city, weight resting on your forearms. Four hundred years is a long time, even for him. And it sounds like Cameron was incredibly important to him but he still wouldn’t … he didn’t even use his mark, he … “It’s late, so I figured you didn’t want anything heavy.” 

Turning at the sound of his voice, you watched as he held up a plate with one hand, a bottle of water held in his curled fingers and a stainless steel bottle tucked under his other arm. “A sandwich? Did you make this? Or was it -”

“I might have been a prince in a past life, and not need to eat in this one, but I know my way around a kitchen.” He grinned as he set everything down on the small table before unfolding the blanket laying atop the outdoor couch. “Come here.” 

You did, stepping in front of him - and when Oberyn draped the material over your shoulders, he used the ends of the blanket to pull you closer, ducking his head down to press a kiss to your lips. That kiss was longer than the last one on the rooftop, but he still broke it much too quickly, stepping back and gesturing for you to sit. “Thank you for … dinner? A midnight snack? Whatever this is, I’m going to inhale it.” 

“Good.” He sat next to you, rolling the container he held between both of his hands. “I hope it is alright with you if I … also eat.” Your eyes flicked from the sandwich in your hand to the bottle in his, both brows shooting up in understanding. Blood. There’s blood in there, and he didn’t want me to see it while he drank. 

“Of course. Eat.” You took a bite, chewing to give yourself a few extra seconds before speaking again. “Oberyn, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I understand what … you are, and what you need.” Elbowing him, you turned your head to look at the man. “And I’ve already seen you at your worst with Clegane, right? So it -”

“That wasn’t anywhere near my worst.” Flipping the straw up on his bottle, Oberyn sipped from it, staring straight ahead. “But yes, you have briefly seen the worst parts of me.” Your stomach dropped at his words, but part of you wasn’t surprised. He’s been alive for 2,000 years, and he thinks… Oh, Oberyn. “I know that you are expecting to hear about Cameron. But to tell you about Cameron, I need to go back much further.” He sipped again, eyes closing as he swallowed. “To Isabel. To before Isabel. I need to tell you why I stopped offering my protection to the humans I cared for.” 

His voice changed as he spoke the woman’s name, and it only took moments for you to figure out who she was. But instead of interrupting, you continued to eat your sandwich, scooting marginally closer to him while you chewed. It took a few seconds, but Oberyn laid an arm over your shoulders, his fingers closing around the far one and squeezing. I’m listening, Oberyn. 

“When Ellaria turned me, I knew that I wouldn’t get my revenge right away. I knew that it could take time, but I never thought … I never thought thousands of years would pass.” He paused, head shaking from side to side slowly. “The longer I waited, the more I needed to do to fill my days. By the time I was given the sunlight again, Ellaria and I were far from Westeros. My immediate relatives were long gone, and there was no sign of the right Lannisters. She took me to Greece and within a year I… we met someone.” 

You weren’t surprised - Oberyn’s magnetism had been well documented in all of the ancient texts that you’d seen, and you imagined that given the opportunity to meet new people in new places, it hadn’t been any different. 

“But it was short lived, because… I wasn’t careful enough. Her association with Ellaria and I put a target on her head, and she was … she was killed because of it. She was killed and we had to leave, and it was only then that Ellaria explained the process of marking someone for safety.”

“Oh, Oberyn.” Wincing, you reached over and squeezed his knee. “I’m so sorry.” He lost someone else, almost right away. I can’t… 

“I was too. And from there …” He laughed, but the sound was sad. “From there, I admit that I treated offering my mark in the same way I lived as a man - in excess. Even Ellaria questioned me at times, but it was the way I coped. I could not have the revenge I wanted, and losing more people that I cared about was not an option. So for a few hundred years, I … marked my partners. I kept them close without thinking twice, but I never hesitated to step away from them when it became clear that Cersei and Tywin and the fucking Mountain were back, or when they demanded too much of me.” 

“Oberyn, I …” You didn’t know what else to say - especially since up until that conversation, you’d assumed he’d always been selective about who he offered protection to. But I was wrong. 

“Many of them asked to become like me, and I denied all of them - most of them without explanation.” He took another drink, pausing before he set the bottle down on the table. “Losing them of natural causes became almost routine for me. Eight. Ten. Twelve. It was not easy to say goodbye, but I was not heartbroken in the same way I was when the first was taken. Finally, Ellaria pulled me aside, and she let me know what she thought.” 

“What did she think?” Curling your legs beneath you, you leaned against Oberyn’s side. “It doesn’t seem like she would have said anything unless she felt strongly about it.”

“You are correct.” Glancing up, you saw that he was smiling - that expression a fonder one. “She told me that the mark was meant to be a symbol of honor, and an indication that the person who wore it was special. She said she’d never try to tell me how to live my second life, but that unless I used that ability with some discretion, it was … meaningless. That in our community, the mark had come to symbolize intent, and I was treating it like giving someone a worthless trinket. I hadn’t ever thought of it that way.” 

“Were you two together all that time? I know that Makers don’t always stay with their Children, but you and Ellaria are … different.” 

“No. She stayed with me for a long time, but once she was certain I would be alright on my own, we separated. We’d see each other … well, to us, it was frequently, but to you, it probably isn’t.” He started moving his hand up and down on your arm, Oberyn shifting so that you could move even closer. “She made a special trip to tell me what she thought about me using my mark, though. And afterward … I slowed down. I slowed down and I realized that there was no point in protecting people in that way. It  was only for my benefit. It didn’t offer them anything in the end.”

Unconsciously, you reached up, touching the space on your neck that bore his sigil. Something changed again. Ellaria and Tyene and Toban’s reactions were real. This isn’t just a mark, it’s… more. 

“It’s not possible for me to be emotionless; I’m sure you know that. But I … stopped letting myself get so attached. I stopped settling in places long term. I kept moving. I focused on my eventual revenge instead of on immediate pleasure, and instead of one or two people a century wearing my mark and knowing what I was, more and more time passed between each one. I kept my own secret, and didn’t linger long enough for people to start asking questions.” 

“You must have been lonely.” Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes. “Even with Ellaria and the Others that you came into contact with, it must have been so hard.” 

“It was. But it got easier each year. The difficult part came when the questions about me making a Child started coming, and I had to explain my reasoning for not turning anyone.” 

“That’s nobody’s business, though.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s like people questioning why someone like me isn’t trying to have a baby, or hinting that time is running out, or making the assumption that you can’t be happy unless you’re a parent. That’s a personal choice, Oberyn, and even though I’m kind of relieved to know it isn’t just humans who think that’s their business, it’s still awful of them to question you like that.” 

“The thing is, that my reason for not turning anyone is … hypothetical. Yes, most of us pass our strongest traits on when we change someone, but it isn’t set in stone that it happens.” He removed his arm from around you and then leaned forward, picking up the thermos  again and taking a long pull from it. You caught a whiff of copper, biting your lip at the scent, but before you could say anything, he continued. “Even Ellaria started to hint that there would be nothing wrong with me changing someone and potentially passing something along, but she never pushed. And after those conversations - after seeing her and Toban and meeting others like us and their first Children, I began to see the appeal… and I started using my mark again. Sparingly, but … just in case. Just to let everyone know that someone was off limits.” 

“But you never acted.” He flipped the straw down and let the bottle go, leaning back. “Even though you were close.” 

“I was.” He sighed. “Sort of.” Without warning, Oberyn pulled you onto his lap, strong arms holding you against his chest though you were still wrapped in the blanket. “I met Isabel while I waited for Ellaria to arrive for a visit, and there was … something about her. A connection between us that was immediate. I fell for her and offered her my protection. She accepted, and asked if … if it was possible that we could be together forever.” 

“You considered it.” You looked up at him, watching as Oberyn nodded slowly. “Because if Ellaria thought you were going to choose between Tyene and Isabel, you must have been much closer than before.” 

“I was.” He met your gaze then, the line between his brows deep as he frowned. “But I made the mistake of telling her that it was in fact a possibility, and she … assumed.” Oh, no. “And with that assumption, our relationship changed. I loved her. The idea of … forever with her was not unappealing, but …” 

“She thought a maybe was a definitely.” He nodded again and then winced when he looked away, like he was remembering actually living the experience. “Did she know about your past? About the Lannisters and your family?” 

“She did. And at first, she told me that she understood my need for vengeance, even though she hadn’t ever seen or heard of the Lannisters before me. But as more time passed, I think … it became clear to her just how focused on that goal I was. I spent as much time with her as I could, but I was also with Ellaria and Tyene, making plans. It had been a long time since Cersei and Tywin had shown their faces so we thought it was probably coming. And when I reminded Isabel that there was a chance that I would turn her and our time together would be short because I did what needed to be done and did not survive, she …” 

He lifted a hand a rubbed slowly at his jaw, still staring out at the city. You’d thought that Oberyn’s reasons for not turning the woman had been simple, but the previous few minutes had proven otherwise. And I think it’s going to get worse. 

“She did not take it well. She said that Ellaria encouraging my revenge quest for over a thousand years was not a good idea. She said that if I kept it up, I would only do more harm to myself and the people I cared about. She said that once I turned her, I would understand that there was more to my life than the need to remove the Lannisters from the world. And that was … the last thing I needed to hear. Especially since Ellaria had been the one encouraging me to make an offer to Isabel in the first place.” 

“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life, Oberyn, but none of them have been as stupid as telling you Ellaria was a bad influence on you.” He smiled at that but it was still sad, his hold on you tightening. “That wouldn’t have been a good start to Isabel’s new life.”

“No. And as much as I loved her, Ellaria’s presence was … is… always going to factor into my decisions. I will never compromise on that, no matter how many years I walk this Earth, or who I choose to have beside me.” And you shouldn’t have to. Ellaria isn’t just your Maker. She’s … everything to you. “Isabel didn’t take that well, and she definitely didn’t take me telling her that I’d chosen not to turn her because of her feelings about Ellaria well, either.” 

He stopped speaking, and you watched the emotions pass across his features, his face more expressive than you’d ever seen it before. He tightened his jaw and then loosened it before finally looking down at you with another frown on his face that sent a shallow ache through your chest. “Are you -”

“Give me a second. This is not easy for me.” He closed his eyes and then turned toward you, kissing you on the forehead and lingering there. “I left her and went back to Ellaria and Tyene full time. I refused to turn Tyene because that girl deserved better than to be someone’s second choice, and Ellaria was far more equipped to handle her transformation than I was.” He spoke without pulling back, his lips brushing over your skin with each word. “But curiosity got the better of me, and after a little while, I went back to check in on Isabel, and she …” 

You felt it before you saw it - the warmth of Oberyn’s tears falling against your skin. Without thinking twice, you slipped an arm around his back and the other under his shoulder, turning your head so that you could press your cheek to his chest. Whatever he’s going to say next is going to be awful. 

“She cut my mark from her skin.”

You closed your eyes as the ache in your heart deepened. Without realizing it, you tightened your hold on him, fingers digging into his skin. You were expecting it to be bad given the way he was struggling to get through this part of the story. But that’s horrible. I can’t even imagine… 

Your thoughts trailed off as he continued. “She said if I wouldn’t choose her, she didn’t want the safety my mark brought her. Since she could not see it, she… What she did to herself, it… her arm was … mutilated. The wound … it … it became infected, and the infection spread. She refused to let me do anything about it.” He paused again, and when he spoke, you heard the tremble in his voice. “She was too weak to get out of bed, but she was strong enough to tell me that all she’d done was make sure that I didn’t have to wait around for years to watch her die of old age since I wouldn’t give her a forever.” 

“Oh, Oberyn.” Your blood ran cold at his words, and you knew that he’d heard your sharp intake of breath. “That’s… how could someone do that to you?” You knew that he’d loved the woman, but you thought she’d been selfish - especially when it came to Ellaria. And if she knew what avenging his family meant, she just tried to manipulate him. And that’s even worse. 

“I don’t know. But she did die, and despite what she’d done, it … hurt to lose her. Before you, she was the last person I placed under my protection.” He sniffed, saying your name. “For four hundred years, there hasn’t been anyone else I have wanted to protect. Not even Cameron. Not even when I knew his life was in danger. Because the memory of Isabel - and what she believed that mark would eventually mean was so strong.” 

He used one hand to ease your head away from his chest, tilting it to the side so that he could stare at the skin of your throat, leaving you to wonder at his thoughts. Do you regret it? Do you wish you’d asked? Do you wish you’d waited?

“Our marks of protection are all slightly different, but they all require …” He smiled briefly, raising his thumb so that the ring caught some of the light. “The right components.” You’d wanted to ask about the process but didn’t know how - especially since you didn’t have a clue where to start, so you were glad that he brought it up on his own. “It can be made from any metal, but most of us that are … ancient choose gold. It is melted down by an elder, and then some of our blood is added to the molten liquid. Even a few drops are powerful, which is why when I bit you, I pressed the sigil to your skin. I healed the space around it with my tongue, but… the metal itself healed that area… and since the metal bears the spear of House Martell… it remains on your skin, a visible reminder of just how important you are to me.” 

“I wish it was visible for me, especially after seeing Ellaria, Tyene and Toban’s reactions to it.” The words slipped out - and at the realization of their implication, you sat straight up, eyes wide. Oh, no. I didn’t mean to… Especially after what we just talked about. Now he’s going to think - 

“I wish you could see it too. But for right now … you can feel it.” He reached for you again, fingers trailing over your skin and sending heat throughout your body. And when he positioned his hand the same way he had the night he’d marked you, you gasped at the surge of warmth, the corners of his mouth lifting briefly as he gauged your reaction. “I’d almost forgotten what it feels like.” He leaned closer, curling his fingers slightly. “This is a good reminder.” Of what? 

There were plenty of ways to interpret his words, but you chose to take them at face value - that he was simply happy to be around someone that understood the significance of what he’d given them - and didn’t try to take things a step further or ask for clarification. Even though I want to, and he has to know it by now. “I’m glad something good came out of this mess.” Letting the blanket drop, you pulled one hand free, raking your fingers through his hair. “Even something small.” 

“It is not small, believe me.” He let go of your throat, his hand dropping to your shoulder and squeezing. “But I still have not told you about Cameron, and that’s what I promised to do.” 

“We don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow. I can sleep in.” He smiled at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “But yes. Tell me about him, please. And maybe something about Toban, too. Because -” 

“Toban means well. He always has. And while I wouldn’t call it jealousy, because it’s clear he would do anything for her, the connection that Ellaria has with him has … started to bother me more as the years pass.” He rolled his eyes. “Our gifts are another thing that isn’t guaranteed, but depending on your lineage, they’re more or less likely. With Ellaria, they are very likely, since she’s one of the first.” 

You’d assumed that to be the case about her age, but with the confirmation, you realized just how special your circumstances  were - and how lucky Oberyn was. Because she barely saved him. And so anyone younger might not have. 

“Ellaria can see the past via touch. Toban’s ability is to read situations and circumstances like no one I have ever met before. Tyene … well, she is able to convince anyone to do just about anything, and doesn’t hesitate to tell you what she thinks about it.” 

You grinned at the admission, lifting a brow. “I’m not surprised by that, especially after the way she greeted me for the first time.” 

He smiled, too, the man nodding. “Her treatment of you is how I knew she accepted you, but I was surprised that she did it as quickly as she did.” 

“I like her, Oberyn. I’m glad that Ellaria turned her. She fits well with the two of you…. And Toban.” Dropping your hands to settle them in your lap, you cocked your head to the side. “What is your gift, though? You must have one, if the three of them do.”

“Nothing as exciting as seeing the past or knowing the future or the power of persuasion.” He sighed, the rise and fall of his chest a strange sight. “My… gift is also somewhat of a curse. The depth of my humanity is what I carry with me, no matter how much I’ve tried to ignore it sometimes. Despite my hesitation when it comes to getting attached, when it happens … I cannot help the way it makes me feel… and act, when the situation calls for it.” 

“How is that a curse?” 

“I haven’t been a human in 2,000 years. At that age, most of us have long since forgotten what it’s like to experience things the same way humans do. But I have never been able to disassociate from that part of myself entirely. I’ve tried to, but it has never worked for long.” He closed his eyes, pausing. “And that brings me to Cameron.” 

“I’m going to stay quiet, Oberyn, and just let you talk. Because if I interrupt, I’ll -” 

“Thank you. There aren’t many that know this full story, so…” He slipped a hand under the blanket and then under your top, his large palm pressed to your side. “That will help.” 

You didn’t know what to expect when it came to the man’s story, but once he started speaking, you were enraptured - and wouldn’t have wanted to interject without his encouragement. 

“Ellaria and I have done many things throughout the years to earn a living, finding ways to adapt to the times at hand and use current events to our advantage. Some of the stories about our kind are true, but there are others that aren’t. For example, some of us are quite persuasive, like Tyene, but we can’t just … bend people’s minds to our will without a second thought. Luckily, by the time I was turned, Ellaria had already amassed quite a fortune that she kept secret. Her name may have been Sand then, yet she was anything but poor. Those funds, along with what I was able to take away from my own family’s vaults throughout the years were more than we needed.” 

He hummed, glancing down at you and then back out at the skyline, and you used the opportunity to take in his profile, parts of his face silhouetted in shadow, though it only made him more appealing. 

“At the time I met Cameron, Ellaria and I were operating a network of Speakeasies on the East Coast. It was good money, easy money. And it was simple for us to attract visitors, because almost everyone was looking for a place to drink and socialize where they could be themselves in every way.” 

You didn’t need clarification on that. When it came to Oberyn, excess was the norm, and he’d never been one to hide his true nature, or his desires. Sex and alcohol and freedom? People must have loved them back then. He stroked over your skin with his fingertips, humming low in his throat before he continued. 

“Cameron was … special. He visited one of our locations in The Bowery, and caught my eye from across the room. I had two beautiful women in my lap and he still devoured me with his gaze as though they were not there at all. His confidence was… alluring. He wasn’t shy about what he wanted, and I liked that. We began a relationship, and I quickly realized that I cared for him, despite promising myself that I would keep things … loose. I did travel a lot, between locations, and Ellaria often filled in in my absence, so he got to know her, too.” 

Oberyn lowered his head and rested it against yours, collecting himself. “Many like us came to America then, to take advantage of the rapidly expanding cities and the nightlife. There was a group - the one Toban told you about? From Braavos? They were also attempting to operate in the same market as we were, and it got … contentious.” 

You weren’t surprised because Toban had given you a heads up, but that didn’t make the story any easier to hear. He’s been through so much. He’s had to adapt over and over and it’s still happening. 

“I wanted to be sure that Cameron was safe, and since he knew what I was, it was a little easier. We trained together. He stayed close to me when I traveled. I told him what to look for when it came to potential attempts on his life. The sell swords attacked one of our clubs one night, burning it to the ground because they thought we were there … and that is when Cameron and I disappeared for a while. We needed to lay low, and it was during that time that he asked me to protect him with my mark. But I was hesitant, and you know why.” 

“I do.” You mumbled the words, agreeing. “And I know how hard it probably still was for you to tell him no.” 

“Punishing Cameron for Isabel’s behavior was unfair of me, and I know it. I knew it then, but that changed nothing. He asked me - repeatedly, why I would not protect him if I claimed to love him. All I could say was that I had never before used the mark as a last resort, and I didn’t want to start with him. There were many Others from Braavos, but they were clumsy, and I thought … I thought my presence would be enough. But Cameron got tired of me telling him no, and so he turned to Toban, who was spending a lot of time with Ellaria then, and one thing led to another.” 

“Would … would the bond he felt with Toban because of the mark have changed if you’d turned him later? How does that work?” 

“I do not know.” He shook his head, the man’s frown deepening. “For many, offering the mark is the precursor to offering them a second life. It is … I don’t think I have ever come across someone that is protected by one and a Child of another. But in Cameron’s case, it wouldn’t have mattered. He grew to resent me in the months following Toban’s decision, and his final request of me was just a last effort to make me choose.” 

“Were he and Toban -” 

“No, they were never together. Not to my knowledge, anyway. Toban marked him because time was running out, and it was either that or watch me lose someone else I cared for before I was ready, because they would have eventually killed him. It was only a matter of time. He turned him because after the mark, the two of them became close, since Cameron wanted less and less to do with me. After your first, it … I’m told that it becomes less likely that the bond is so strong between a Maker and a Child, so to Toban, it was as simple as granting a request. Cameron told me what was happening, and then the two of them left and were out of touch for twenty years.” 

You found it hard to believe that Toban had been out of touch with Ellaria for so long, but stayed quiet, thoughts buzzing in your head. Oberyn’s differing use of his mark of protection through the years was staggering - from overusing it to not using it to choosing to use it sparingly to only offering it when the possibility of forever was on the table, but denying it to someone that was in immediate danger. And then there’s me. How do I factor into this? “You never considered turning Cameron?”

“Not once. I did love him. We were close. He knew me well, and we were happy together, but it wasn’t … I never felt the same as I did with Isabel, and that was a problem for me. He’s happy now, I’ve seen him once since he became one of us, but … the bond between us does not exist anymore. And as upset as I was with Toban at the time, his … interference was for the best. It kept Cameron alive, and it kept me from being forced to make a decision that I would have regretted later.” 

You couldn’t help it - stifling a yawn in the middle of his words, one hand rising to cover your mouth and hide it. Shit. “I’m sorry, Oberyn. It’s just that it’s late, and you’re comfortable, and -”

“It is. And I am.” He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I am almost done, and then I will take you to bed.” Wait, what? “To sleep,” he clarified, lips finding your temple. “I just need to explain my feelings toward Toban, and then … then you will understand more.” 

“Before you do that, I have something to ask.” Leaning back, you looked up as he stared down at you, the man nodding twice. “Tyene offered to change me if you wouldn’t. Toban said that he was glad things wouldn’t be the same with me as they were with Cameron, and that he looked forward to getting to know me when this was over … why? They’ve known me for a few days, and they’re already acting like I’m going to be around for a long time, and that they want it to happen.” 

“They’re my family. They understand that everything going on right now is … fluid. But the fact that I acted so quickly and definitively with you, despite you being in no danger from any Others … it tells them everything they need to know about my feelings.” It was an answer, but only a partial one - though it would have to be enough. Because there are more important things to worry about. 

“What if there are Others working with the Lannisters that Tyrion doesn’t know about? What if that’s a surprise? What if -”

“That is nothing to worry about. It is a rule set by our Elders that we give the Lannisters nothing. They’ve been trying to figure out how our blood works for centuries, and have offered unbelievable sums of money for assistance. But despite the fact that not all of the Others have a vendetta against them like mine or Ellaria’s, no one is willing to help them, because it means they’d be completely cut off if they lived long enough… and survived my retaliation against them.” 

Toban’s words - no one would dare cross the Red Viper - echoed in your mind, and despite yourself, you shivered. If he has that much power over the entire community, then … then the fact that I’ve been accepted by him means even more than I thought it did. “I’m glad to hear it. And soon, helping the Lannisters won’t be something any of you have to worry about.” 

“No, it won’t be.” He hummed and then squinted, though you knew that his vision was perfect. “The sun will start to rise in about 40 minutes, so I’m going to make this quick.” Quietly encouraging him to continue, you squeezed his bicep. “I have denied myself very little in my first life… or in this life. But I am consciously denying myself the connection that we have with our first. Over and over, I have had the opportunity to choose someone to fill that role, and I have walked away every time. Toban was Ellaria’s first, and the bond they have … as much as I want to experience that, it hasn’t ever felt right.  She turned him with nothing but love for him in her heart, and I … I’ve already told you what I feel. The hate. The rage. The sadness. They are not all I feel, but they are always there, like a shadow. Making someone an offer of eternal life shouldn’t come with the burden of those things.” 

No, it shouldn’t. “Only you can decide what the right time is, or who the right person is, Oberyn. And you told me the other night that once this is over? You might be able to make that offer to someone. I want that for you. And whoever it is is going to be the luckiest person in the world, because you -” 

“No.” Using one hand, he turned your face toward his, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tiny smile. “I will be the luckiest man on this planet if they say yes.” Oberyn kissed you softly, his lips parted so that your lower one fit between them. 

He didn’t say you, don’t get your hopes up. But it was impossible not to - all of Oberyn’s words and explanations aligned with his actions and your presence in his life, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that he was referring to you when he mentioned an after for someone. 

“I do not hate Toban. I could never truly despise someone that holds such a large portion of Ellaria’s heart. But he has something I haven’t been able to seriously consider for myself, and seeing him … and them together is a reminder of that.” 

You kissed him when he was done speaking, puckered lips trailing over his and then to his cheek, pausing over the space where his dimple appeared each time he smiled and then moving back to his mouth. You lingered there, wanting to deepen it, but Oberyn decided for you, shaking his head and leaning back. “We need to go inside. If I get carried away with you out here, the sun will not be pleasant.” 

“Of course.” Pushing yourself to your feet, you kept the blanket wrapped around you, staring down at where he still sat. “Plus, unless I missed something in the last few hours, you and Ellaria haven’t had enough time to take care of what you need to, so… getting carried away isn’t an option.” 

“We have not.” He stood, too, reaching out to put an arm around your shoulders. “But there are other things that you and I could do that would make me lose track of time.”

“Yeah?” Feeling bold, you slid your arm around his back, hand landing on his hip and your fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of the pants he wore. “Are any of those possible in that bedroom with the drapes shut?” 

“If you’re not too tired, we can find out.” 

You were exhausted, but his words sent a jolt of adrenaline through you, your eyes moving to the partially open door. I’ll never be too tired to find out with you, Oberyn. What you’d discussed had likely taken a lot out of him, but you never would have known based on the way he led you back into the bedroom and then fluidly worked to secure the door and drapes - ensuring that not even a sliver of sunlight would leak through when it rose. 

You went into the bathroom while he did that, taking a few moments when you’d finished to stare at yourself in the mirror. You could feel the mark he’d given you - a dull thrum against the side of your throat, and even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good, you leaned in and squinted at your reflection. I know what it’s supposed to look like, but I really wish I could see it just once. 

And you didn’t even mean as a result of being turned - though if that were the case, you’d be able to see it any time you looked into the mirror. I just mean … Swirling your fingertips slowly over your skin, you sighed. I want to see what he sees.

A knock at the door startled you. When it pushed open a few seconds later, Oberyn peaking around the edge, you straightened up and smiled. “You can come in. I guess.” 

He stepped inside, leaving the door open behind him. Oh, he took his shirt off. “The room is ready. We will be able to rest for as long as we need to.” 

“What do you do while I… while the person you’re in bed with is sleeping?” You watched his expression in the mirror, both of Oberyn’s eyebrows shooting upward. “You don’t really sleep, so -”

“I do need rest. When it’s a human I’m with, my body just sort of goes into a … meditative state. I’m still alert and aware in case of danger, but if someone were to see me, they’d think I was asleep.” He stepped behind you, extending his arms so that he could grip the edges of the counter on either side of your body. “You have seen me actually sleep, though. After the Mountain? My body was doing everything possible to heal, and that meant being truly unconscious.” 

Oberyn pressed his chest to your back, never breaking eye contact with your reflection. “So it’s like a recharge. Even though you technically don’t need it, you still… keep up appearances.” 

“I do.” He nodded, turning his head to press his lips to the angle of your jaw. “When I have a reason to.” I’m the reason right now? “I also must admit to something.” He kissed you again, mouth moving closer to your ear. “In the last few days, I have spent more than a few hours just watching you sleep.” 

“Creep.” But you felt your entire body growing warm at his words, a sharp inhale of breath your only response when he let go of the counter and wound his arms around you to pull you even closer. “Oberyn.” 

“I have been trying to figure out what it is about you that has drawn me in so quickly.” He hummed, the man pushing your shirt up and gliding his fingers over your skin. “Why I was so … moved to do whatever it took to protect you, even when I was … impaired and hadn’t had the urge to give that gift to anyone in hundreds of years.” 

“Does the why matter?” Sighing as he stroked the skin beneath your belly button, you tipped your head back, resting it against his shoulder. “It doesn’t to me, because whatever the reason, it means … you’re in my life now, and I’m in yours. Whatever that means going forward is something that we’ll have to figure out, but …” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath, pressing your lips together. “Do you regret what you did? Do you wish you hadn’t been -”

“No.” It was almost a growl, Oberyn’s palm flattening against your belly, the other one moving up your body and sliding beneath the neckline of your shirt so that he could settle it over your heart. “I regret the timing, yes, and not being able to explain what I wanted to do beforehand… but when it comes to choosing you?” He nuzzled against the side of your face, his upper lip curling. “There is no regret.” 

It made you feel better. 

When you turned your head toward him, he was waiting, the man’s lips already parted so that he could pull yours between them, the scrape of his teeth making you groan. Reaching up, you used one hand to grip his hair, fingers twisting in the silver-streaked locks. He pressed harder on your chest, and once again, you knew he was monitoring your heartbeat. But this time, it’s not because he’s afraid it’s too slow. 

He kissed you harder, his mouth moving with yours - and the hand on your abdomen moved lower, the tips of his fingers skimming the waistband of your sweats. You whimpered then, Oberyn  swallowing the sound - but it only seemed to encourage him. Wait, though. Wait because … 

Pulling away from him with a gasp, you let out a shuddering breath, and were unsurprised to see mischief in his eyes, one of his brows raised. “Can, um…” Fighting to catch your breath, you chewed on your lower lip and wrinkled your nose. This is stupid. “Can they hear us? I know this is a big apartment, but …”

To his credit, Oberyn didn’t outright laugh at you. Instead he just murmured your name and leaned in to kiss you, his fingers curling slightly. “Our hearing is very good, yes. But with age and experience, we are able to … tune things out. It becomes like background noise for us unless we’re actively listening. I cannot say that they won’t all know that something is going on in here because of your heartbeat or any noises we make, but I can assure you that Ellaria and Toban are quite occupied themselves, and Tyene is more like a teenager than you know.” 

“Doesn’t want to hear either of her parents having sex? Got it.” You grinned at that, feeling marginally more at ease. “I just didn’t want to be rude, Oberyn. I know you’ll tell me that I’m worrying for nothing, but …” 

“I certainly haven’t been listening to them, I can promise you that.” The look in his eyes changed briefly, but then he was focused on you again, the intensity back. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.” You considered his words for a few seconds, breaking eye contact and then closing both of yours. 

Everything you knew about Oberyn Martell - from Westerosi history books and actually meeting him in person - told you that while he had very few limitations when it came to his behavior, he was considerate of others when the situation called for it. 

He wouldn’t force you to do anything, and his honesty about the fact that three supernatural beings also in the apartment could probably hear everything happening was proof that you had a choice about whether or not to move forward. But they all already know how he is. They know how he feels, and how I feel, and …  

“I want this, Oberyn.” His hold on you tightened, and when you lifted your head again to lock eyes with him in the mirror, you nodded twice. “But, the first time we’re actually together? I’d prefer if it was just the two of us, you know?”

“Of course.” The hand at your chest dropped a few inches, Oberyn’s wrist caught on the neckline of your shirt as he palmed one breast. “No one to listen. No one to interrupt. No one to …” He pressed his lips to your cheek and then moved them down, kissing the space just beneath your ear and then against the column of your throat. “No one to make either of us leave that bed before we’re ready.” 

You moaned at that - the sound loud, and when he latched his lips against your skin and sucked, you did it again, not caring at all who was listening. He wasn’t biting you, but part of you wished that he would - and you didn’t know what exactly that said about you. “I can’t wait.” The thought of you and Oberyn - uninterrupted and in a bed together, the man finally able to give you what you both desperately wanted - was enough to make your knees shake. 

But he kept you upright, releasing your skin and then smiling against it as he continued to kiss his way forward. “On that night,” he whispered, lips moving over the part of your collarbone that was exposed, “on that night, I am going to kiss every single part of you that I marred when I was not well.” 

“Oberyn, you don’t have to -”

“It is not for you.” He shook his head, the hand at your waist sliding marginally lower while the one on your chest moved in a slow circle, one fingertip circling your nipple. “It is for me. And it is the only way I can begin to forgive myself.” You knew that telling him that you’d already forgiven him was unnecessary - he’d made the decision to make up for what he’d done, and you couldn’t sway him. “But for now…” He took a step forward, the small movement aligning your thighs with the edge of the counter. “This is for you.” 

He removed his hand from beneath your shirt and then used both of his to pull it upward, the man silent as he moved. Raising your arms to allow him to fully remove it, you let out a shuddering breath at the sight of your bare torso in the mirror, watching as he wrapped his arms around you again. He’s just watching me. Watching … us. 

The heat of his body was soft against your skin, the man’s palms warmer where they pressed to it - but you were focused on the intensity of his gaze, his eyes following the movement of his fingers as he touched you. “Oberyn, what are …” You gasped when his right hand slid down your stomach, fingers gliding beneath your waistband again - but instead of continuing down, he held it there, humming appreciatively. “You seem pleased with yourself, Prince Oberyn.” 

That got a laugh out of him, the smile spreading across his face as he palmed your chest with his other hand. But when Oberyn said your name next, there was no trace of laughter in his voice. Instead, it was low and full of want, his eyes blazing in the mirror’s reflection. “You’ll be pleased in a few minutes, too. That is a promise.” 

 You managed little more than a quiet sigh in response, but you nodded, never taking your eyes off of him. He was pressed against you from behind, the man’s body firm, and when he used one foot to nudge yours apart, you moved. Not much - just enough to widen your stance for him. Please touch me, Oberyn. Please, just … 

Reaching up with one hand, you dragged your fingers through the hair laying against the nape of his neck as you finally turned your head toward him, your upper body twisting slightly. It was enough to allow you to kiss him, your mouth pressed to his as your fingers curled. 

Despite his age and his circumstances - and the fact that your friends had the element of surprise, you knew that nothing was promised beyond the moments you were living in. Especially for me, you thought as you continued to kiss him, lips parting in a signal to him that you wanted more. Because out of everyone, I’m the only one without a contingency plan or immortal blood. 

He must have noticed a change in your heartbeat, because Oberyn pulled away moments later, his frown deep. “What is wrong? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. I don’t.” Closing your eyes, you bit down on your lower lip. “I’m just … so much could go wrong, Oberyn. And I’m scared that I’ll lose you before …” You pulled your hand from his head, using it to cover your mouth. Just say it. “I’m scared that I’ll lose you before I can really get to know you. Or that something will happen to me, and then…” And then you’ll lose someone else you care about earlier than planned. 

“You will not lose me.” He leaned in, running his nose along your temple. “Not during this conflict, and definitely not tonight.” He kissed you then, lips landing on the corner of one eye. “And nothing is going to happen to you… nothing that you don’t like, anyway.” You felt his smile, the man pausing before he spoke again - that time, directly into your ear. “Let me take care of you, issa ōños.” 

You knew it was Valyrian, but you didn’t know what he’d said - and didn’t want to stop him and ask, especially when his hand moved even lower, the edges of his nails dragging against your sensitive skin and making your hips jerk backward into his. He was hard and made no effort to conceal that from you, Oberyn bending one knee and sliding that foot between both of your legs so that you could feel the length of him against the back of your hip. 

It also stabilized you, your lips curving into a tiny smile at the realization. But that was cut off when he kissed you again, Oberyn’s lips crushing yours with what you could only describe as a slight desperation. You have nothing to prove to me, Oberyn. Nothing at all. 

The hand on your chest moved upward, palm pausing over your heart for long moments as the kiss continued, desperation turning into something like need as he felt the steady - though elevated - beat of it. He nodded once without breaking the kiss, and when you circled your hips slowly, leaning the weight of your upper body into his, Oberyn was ready. 

He licked into your mouth, the drag of his tongue long and slow. It took you a few seconds to realize that he’d dropped his hand again, slipping his fingers between your legs and curving them - the breadth of them pressed against the apex of your thighs. His touch was welcome, and when he stroked you with one long finger, you moaned into his mouth, your hand rising again to let your fingers tangle in his hair. 

He continued with only one finger, though he sped up after a minute or so, the man not doing anything but touching you until he broke the kiss to let you breathe. You gasped a breath into your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, and when Oberyn’s hand moved upward from your chest and to your throat, you let it out shakily at what you knew was coming. 

He made contact with the mark on your neck at the same time one finger slipped into you, Oberyn humming as you breathed out his name, the sound so quiet that only someone with his hearing would have known. Your muscles clenched around his finger, your body accommodating him immediately - though you wanted more, and knew that he’d want you to say so. 

You opened your mouth to tell him, turning your head just enough so that you could steal a quick kiss, but when your lips met, you felt the sharp sting of his teeth - the man nicking your lip and then snapping his head back before you could even react. His fangs are out. Is that new or has it been that way every time we’ve been close like this? “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize for what you are, Oberyn.” You dragged your tongue slowly over the area he’d bitten, your tongue coming away coated in the tang of copper. You met his eyes again - directly that time, and not in the mirror - and shook your head without looking away. “I can handle it, and I want to.” It was the truth - you needed him to know that no part of him or who he was or what he wanted frightened you or made  you uncomfortable in any way, and that you trusted him to toe the line of safety with you in every situation. “Can…” Swallowing, you nodded. “Can I see?” 

He hesitated but it was brief. Oberyn’s hand dropped from your neck back to your upper chest, the motion of his other hand paused, too. “Yes. You can.” He opened his mouth again, tipping his head back and baring his teeth - and you watched as his fangs descended, the sharp points coming into view with no change in his expression. Oberyn stayed still, the man’s eyes on your face as you stared at what he was showing you. 

They were beautiful - much like the rest of him was - and without thinking about it, you raised your hand slowly, fingertips caressing his cheek as your thumb hovered just in front of his open mouth. “Does it hurt?” You spoke quietly, wondering what he felt in the rhythm of your heartbeat. “When they come down?”

“No.” He prodded at one with the tip of his tongue, your eyes following the movement. “It never has.” You wanted to touch one of them - to press the pad of your thumb against the point, testing the sharpness, but had no idea if that would be crossing the line of acceptability. “People used to fear them, even after I told them what I was. I became … adept at keeping them hidden. At not letting my natural reaction to … others allow them to be visible.” 

“So they come out when you’re turned on?” Arching a brow, you grinned at him again. “Good to know.” The edge of your nail caught on his lower lip, and then Oberyn snapped his teeth at you, playfully nipping at it before turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist with a lingering press of his lips. “Oberyn.” You got his attention with a single word, his gaze rising to lock with yours again. “You have my permission to … bite me if that’s what you want.” 

It sounded stupid coming from you - the words leaving your lips and echoing in the small space. But he probably needs to hear it, because he was so afraid I’d be mad or off-put and … I’m not. “Is it what you want?” 

He pulled you closer to his body, Oberyn’s fingers curling against your core, and you nodded in return. “Yes. I want you, and that urge is a part of who you are, so… it is.” His eyes flashed at your admission, the man’s pupils widening - and then he was kissing you again, none of the previous restraint present. 

Instead, he took the lead, his mouth pressed to yours with some force as the hand between your legs began to move again. But that time, Oberyn went with two fingers, much as he had done in the safehouse. It felt better - your body’s immediate reaction to cant your hips forward over and over into his touch, chasing the pressure of the heel of his hand on each backstroke. 

He bit your lip again before he moved his mouth to your jaw, the points of his teeth scraping over it and then dragging along your cheek, the man’s plush lips trailing a second path over your heated skin. 

Closing your eyes and breathing hard, you angled your head away and gave him a better route to your neck, knowing full well that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the mark - but still wanting his mouth on it, wanting to feel the heat of his lips as the effect of the claim he’d made on you coursed through your body. Not a claim, you reminded yourself as he bit on your earlobe before releasing it. A promise. A reminder that he wants to keep me safe. 

And Oberyn did press his lips to your mark moments later, along with a twist of his wrist that left his fingers buried in you but also allowed him to circle his thumb over the spot just above them, your hips jerking back once more. His kiss burned, the connection between you electric in its intensity, and you forced your eyes open, watching what was going on in the mirror. 

It was a sight you’d never forget - one of his hands pressed so tightly to your chest that your flesh dimpled beneath it, the other hidden beneath the sweats you still wore, the motion of the fabric over the movement of his fingers and the flex of the muscles in his wrist and forearm something that you could have watched for hours. 

But it was his head that you focused on, the crown of dark curls streaked with silver repositioned after only a few seconds and giving you a view of his brow and nose as he moved away from your throat and back to the place where your neck met your shoulder. 

You didn’t even notice your own bare skin - chest on full display in the warm light of the vanity fixture - because you were so focused on him and what he was doing. But nothing could have prepared you for Oberyn raising his eyes and turning his head so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder. 

He curled his fingers inside of you at the same moment he smirked, and then he opened his mouth, letting you watch as his fangs descended once more. He’s going to … Oh, he’s… 

You knew it was coming and yet you were still unprepared for the way it felt the moment he sunk his teeth into your skin, the man’s low moan at the taste of you sending a shiver of pleasure throughout your entire body. Your first instinct was to close your eyes but you forced yourself to keep them open, watching as your mouth dropped open, lips forming his name though you didn’t speak it out loud. 

He didn’t actually drink from you the same way he had the first night. Instead, Oberyn sipped slowly, timing the swallows with the strokes of his fingers, your body following his lead. You lifted one hand and laid it over the one he had on your chest, using the other one to grip the edge of the counter even though it was unnecessary. 

You wanted to watch - wanted to see the exact moment you fell apart from his touch and his mouth, but instead of doing that, you closed your eyes and let yourself relax into him, the man supporting your weight, even as your hips continued to move in tandem with his hand. 

There was pressure building in your lower belly - the result of his touch and his bite, and if you could sense it, you knew that he likely could, too. But I haven’t touched him. I haven’t … he hasn’t… You groaned, forcing your eyes open and saying his name, the man looking up without pulling his mouth away from your skin. His eyes were dark - the pupils so wide that you couldn’t tell where they ended, and there was a tiny trickle of blood at one corner of his mouth that made you gasp when you saw it. That’s my … oh, shit. 

But it didn’t deter you, and when you spoke moments later, your voice was low, though you heard the certainty in your tone. “Touch yourself, Oberyn. I know you want to.” 

His eyes rolled back and then he shut them, pulling the hand on your chest out from beneath yours as he sucked on your shoulder, and then you felt that hand slide down your body before it joined the other one between your legs. What the fuck is he… 

Before you could even finish your thought, Oberyn deftly replaced his first hand with the second, never missing a beat in the rhythm of his touch. Oh, he’s … oh, shit. Humming, you watched as he removed the first hand - his fingers glistening with your slick - and drew it back between your bodies, pushing the pants he wore down so that he could do what you’d told him to.  

He grunted against your skin and then you felt him move - stroking himself slowly, the man’s knuckles brushing against your back and hip. He sped up the motion of his other hand, and you glanced down, catching a glimpse of what was going on behind you - his large hand wrapped around his length, lower body pulled away from yours enough to give him the space he needed to glide easily. 

You had no idea what a vampire’s release would be like - or if it would be anything at all - but before you could dwell on the thought, Oberyn’s thumb found a sweet spot again, the man pressing down against your skin before circling slowly, another prolonged suck on your shoulder making you gasp. 

It was almost too much - definitely more than you’d experienced with him the first time he’d touched you, but at the same time, it was nowhere close to being enough. Will it ever be? You wondered as you forced your eyes to stay open, gaze focused on the flex of the tendons in his wrist and the way the length of him looked - tip flushed, the rest of him and his hand coated in you. 

Without warning, Oberyn released your shoulder and lifted his head, and you let out a moan at what he left behind - a double set of puncture wounds on your skin, thin trails of blood oozing from them and more of the same coating his lower lip. He looked almost drunk, his eyelids heavy, and for a few seconds, you thought he was going to stay like that… but you were wrong. 

“Give me your hand.” Voice low, he made the demand, Oberyn’s tongue cleaning the blood from his mouth. “Over mine.” Ducking his head, you felt as he kissed the place he bit once more, followed by the drag of his tongue, which felt almost as good as the bite itself. But you moved your hand at the same time, making a guess that he wasn’t asking for help touching you and reaching back so that you could wrap your fingers over his mid-stroke. 

He grunted at your touch, and before you could question him further, it was your hand resting against his skin, Oberyn’s larger one securely atop yours and guiding you. He was warm against your palm, the heft of him large but not uncomfortable, and as you took over, Oberyn’s focus shifted back to the hand he had between your legs, the speed of those thrusts increasing, as did the pace of his thumb. 

It felt amazing  - better than anything that had ever been done to your body before, and Oberyn knew it, the man’s smile turning lazy as he focused on the mirror. “Normally I would prolong this,” he murmured, mouth moving along your skin. “To see how long you could remain right on the edge.” No, please. Not tonight. I just want … “But that is not what either of us needs tonight.” He sighed, mouthing at the base of your throat and then parting his lips to bite again - that time without his fangs. “Tonight you just need me.” 

It was the truth - and it didn’t matter how or why he knew it, and so you nodded, swallowing and tipping your head back as you paused your hand long enough to swirl your thumb over his head, the man twitching at the touch. Squeezing once in agreement, you then resumed your movement - and Oberyn changed his, holding his fingers still inside you while the third kept moving - the pace increasing. 

“Oberyn!” You cried out, your voice much louder than you’d anticipated, but it only encouraged him, the muscles in your abdomen tightening as your toes curled, Oberyn’s hand squeezing yours once more before releasing it. He moved that hand up to your chest again, the weight of his touch grounding you and holding you tight against his body. Even though your eyes snapped closed, you knew why he was touching you there - knew what he was searching for. And I hope he likes it, you thought even as your lips fell open in a series of pants, breath shaky. My fucking heart is racing, and … 

“There it is,” he whispered, followed by a quiet hum of approval. “There you go.” 

You fell apart moments later, your body nearly convulsing at his touch - your free hand slapping against the countertop as the one you had on him stuttered in its motion, grip tightening. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, and Oberyn kept them still, the man swearing in another language - one that you didn’t recognize before turning to kiss the underside of your jaw, the press of his lips against the pulse in your neck welcome. 

He eased you through it, his touch lengthening your orgasm, but once the haze of pleasure had begun to subside, you took a deep, shaky breath and used the hand on the counter to touch his wrist, stopping the motion. Stop. Stop, Oberyn. “Let me turn around, Oberyn.” 

He slipped his fingers from inside of you, but didn’t pull his hand free from beneath your sweats. You let him go long enough to turn and face him, knees wobbly and your chest heaving, but when you met his eyes, you saw understanding in them. “Are you -”

“Be quiet.” Wetting your lips, you shook your head. “Be quiet and let me take care of you now.” His eyes flashed but he didn’t speak, and when you touched him again, your grip was certain - your confidence growing with each passing second. 

He crowded you against the counter again, and without thinking, you maneuvered yourself so that you were sitting on the edge of it, legs spread so that Oberyn could step between them. It gave you better access, and when you reached up with your free hand, gripping the hair at the back of his neck and urging him to kiss you, Oberyn didn’t hesitate. 

It was a deep kiss, Oberyn’s  tongue seeking entrance to your mouth immediately, and as he kissed you, his hips began to rock forward, the tiny thrusts forcing more of him through your grip. He held you with both hands - one of them pressed to the center of your back, the other one gripping the back of your neck and holding you in place, but despite the power behind it, his grip was gentle. 

You felt his fangs again when he bit on your lower lip but he didn’t pierce the skin, and when you gasped, the sound turning into a moan moments later, Oberyn groaned too, his hips moving faster. He broke the kiss, humming out your name. “I am close. I… where do y-”

“Anywhere.” Pressing a kiss to his lips, you shook your head. “Anywhere, Oberyn.” He grunted at your words but didn’t speak again, and when Oberyn kissed you hard, mouth sealed over yours, you knew that close meant imminent. 

Your heart racing again, you swirled your thumb over his tip and squeezed, the speed of your hand increasing as Oberyn’s lips parted, though he didn’t pull back from you. Forcing your eyes open, you tilted your head down to stare between your bodies, twisting your wrist so that when he came, it would hit your belly - and that change was all he needed, the man pulsing in your hand as he followed you over the edge. 

It coated your skin, pearly streaks hitting your stomach, the volume increasing with each stroke of your hand until he was nearly shuddering in your grip, Oberyn’s muscles twitching though he didn’t seem to have any trouble staying on his feet. “Fuck.” He swore, the sound beautiful to your ears. “You just … you are …” 

“Hold that thought, Prince Oberyn.” With one more stroke - and a final squeeze - you released him, fingertips trailing up his stomach until you could press your hand over his heart. It was strange to feel nothing beneath your palm, but it wasn’t difficult to imagine what it would have felt like - his chest rising and falling rapidly while he struggled to catch his breath, his lips parted as he sucked air between them. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s alive in all the ways that count. Your hand moved higher, fingers curling around the side of his throat and your thumb sliding over his jawline. “Ok, now you can finish.” 

“I just did.” He raised an eyebrow. “All over your -” You laughed, eyes closing and your chin dropping, but when Oberyn said your name, you looked back up at him. “I know you heard me earlier, heard what I called you?” Oh, he’s … Nodding, you took a deep breath and held it. “Issa ōños, it means … it means my light. And that is what you are to me, because you’ve shown me something I haven’t seen in a very long time.” 

Your heart was racing, his explanation of the words much more intimate than you’d ever expected them to be. “I have?” He nodded, both of his hands slipping down toward your waist. 

“The way forward. Hope. What it means to … care for someone again. I am beginning to see an end to the darkness I have lived with for so long.” You didn’t know what to say, and any of the things that crossed your mind seemed like too little - so you just leaned forward and kissed him gently, stroking the back of his head. When the kiss ended, neither of you said anything - but you didn’t separate, either, locked in place and holding each other, his forehead pressed to yours. We can’t stay here, though. 

“We should get cleaned up, Oberyn. I need to lay down.” Sighing, you straightened up and looked into his eyes. “And I need to … figure out how to respond to what you just said, because -”

“No. You don’t. Not yet.” He smiled, the expression understanding. “I just wanted you to know.” The man backed off, though he was reluctant to let you go. “It is important that you know.”  

He stepped away, giving you the room you needed to climb off of the counter and begin to clean up, doing the same thing beside you before pulling his pants back on. Everything he says is important. But that seems … very important. And I just … I don’t know what to think. 

Luckily for you, there was plenty of time, since you had days before the engagement party and wedding, and you weren’t involved in every aspect of the attack plan. But it can wait until I wake up. You yawned, swaying on your feet as you dried your face off with a fluffy towel, but then you felt Oberyn’s arms around you again, his mouth right next to your ear. “It’s time for bed. You can barely stand.” 

You didn’t argue, and only a few seconds later, you were horizontal on the comfortable mattress, the thick blanket covering you while Oberyn pressed against you from behind.

You were drowsy, and knew that it wouldn’t take long to fall asleep, but you forced yourself to speak one final time, clearing your throat without opening your eyes. “I know you won’t sleep, but I hope you get some rest.” He chuckled, his mouth pressed to the back of your shoulder. “I’ll see you when I wake up. I lo-” 

You stopped yourself just in time, breath catching in your throat. Oh, no. Oh, I just almost… His arm tightened around you, Oberyn pulling you as close as he could. “I will be here.” I almost just fucked everything up. I almost ruined everything. 

You were exhausted, but the racing of your heart at the near admission kept you awake for a long time. And if Oberyn noticed - which you knew that he did - he didn’t comment on it, his body still behind yours.  

“You’re serious?” You looked back and forth between them, eyes wide. “Tyene? Toban? You’re telling me that -”

“Yes. We’ve all been cooped up in here for a week, and you haven’t been anywhere for almost two aside from coming here.” The girl grinned, holding out a hand. “We’re going out tonight.” 

“But shouldn’t we -” You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Shouldn’t you two be worried about preparing for the wedding instead of worrying about babysitting a human? The engagement party is tomorrow, and…” Trailing off, you looked at Toban’s face, watching as he studied you. “That’s why we’re leaving.” 

Closing your eyes, you nodded. It’s because the party is tomorrow. “After tomorrow, we lose the element of surprise.” Tyene stepped forward, glancing at Toban. “Or at least Oberyn and Ellaria do. So between then and the wedding, things will be … harder for us. Unless we go tonight, we won’t be able to until it’s all over because they might be looking.” 

“And at that point, none of us will be hiding anymore.” Toban cleared his throat, saying your name. “So tonight, the three of us are going to leave the apartment, you are going to check in with someone that you know as proof of life, and Tyene and I are going to fuel up for what is coming.” 

That was code for find someone to drink from, though he was tactful about admitting it. “That’s not the only reason we’re leaving.” You smiled at her, nodding, even though you felt a pang in your chest. “But alright. Let me get changed. I don’t think I want my first time out and around people in such a long time to be in sweatpants.” She grinned, turning and leaving the room, though Toban remained, the man eyeing you curiously. “What? What did -”

“He expects you to be upset.” Frowning, Toban shook his head. “But you aren’t… at least in the way it would make sense for you to be.” 

“Oberyn told me about your gift.” You stood, taking a deep breath. “And you’re right, I do feel … something right now, but … two thousand years of history between them? I’ve known him for fifteen seconds in comparison. And if this is what needs to happen so that he can focus on what’s coming, there’s no way I can be mad about it.” You chewed on your lip and then shook your head. “This isn’t a shock to me, Toban. I knew it was going to happen.If anything, I’m surprised it took this long.” 

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead closed his eyes, nodding. He doesn’t know what to say. “How long do you need to get ready?” Toban cleared his throat. “An hour?”

“No, not even close.” Glancing around the room, you shrugged. “Twenty minutes? A half hour?” He agreed and then followed Tyene out of the room, leaving you alone. There were plenty of clothes for you to choose from, and after checking the weather on one of the TV channels, you opted for a pair of jeans and a light colored tee, pulling a cardigan over it. 

From there, you moved to the vanity, sliding onto the bench seat and reaching for the small bag of toiletries that included makeup, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to put in the effort. Not like I’m trying to impress anyone. 

“I have warned them that if anything happens to you, they will answer to me.” 

Turning your head toward the voice, you rolled your eyes when you saw Oberyn leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. “You wouldn’t have agreed to let me leave this apartment if you thought something might happen.” He pushed off of the wall and moved toward where you sat, the man settling both hands on your shoulders. “It’ll be good to get outside, Oberyn, to be around other people again.” 

“Are we not enough?” You thought about lying and then opted not to, setting the compact you held back down as you turned your head again to look up at him. 

“It’s not that you aren’t enough. I just … I went from interacting with dozens of people every day and using all kinds of technology whenever I wanted to the confines of an apartment, no phone, and the same four faces for the last two weeks.” Aside from Clegane and Tyrion, that is. “It was a big change.” 

“You’ll be back in that world full time soon enough.” He cleared his throat. “I’m … sorry that this is what your life has become. You should not have to hide here, with us. This is not your fight.” 

“It is, though.” Eyeing yourself in the mirror, you shrugged. “It became my fight the second you kissed me at that party, Oberyn. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you win it.” Even if that means going out to a bar so that you can fuck the lingering effects of Ellaria’s blood from your system. “Besides, spending time with Toban and Tyene will be … interesting. I’m sure they’ll have a ton of stories to tell me, and with you and Ellaria out of earshot, they won’t have to worry about censoring themselves.” 

He laughed at that but didn’t speak, his eyes on you as you applied mascara. You could see his reflection in the mirror, the man’s brow furrowed, and you wondered what it would actually take for him to speak up. I’ve never seen him like this. He twisted the ring on his thumb with two fingers, still silent when you picked up another brush - but Oberyn finally broke the silence a few seconds later, his tone full of confusion. 

“You are calm. Your heartbeat is … steady.” He frowned, glancing up at the ceiling. “Yet you know what is going to happen when -”

“Oberyn.” Capping your eyeliner, you spun on the bench to face him, hands in your lap. “Yes. I know that when the three of us are gone, you and Ellaria are going to fuck.” You knew it was more than that, but being blunt was the route you chose. “You need to be clearheaded for tomorrow, and even though having the extra stamina from her blood would probably be helpful if something happens, the focus is more important.” 

“Among other things.” He mumbled the words and then held a hand out, waiting for you to take it. “I wish it did not have to be this way.” 

“Why?” He pulled you to your feet, his free hand going to your waist. “You love her, Oberyn. You haven’t seen her in a while, and this is probably the longest the two of you have ever gone in each other’s presence without jumping into bed.” Settling your hand on his chest, you said his name again. “I will never be jealous of what the two of you have. She saved your life twice that I know about, and probably countless more times between, too.” He smiled at that - just a twitch of his lips but it was there, and so you continued. “Plus, if that night in the bathroom was any indication, my pelvis and ribs wouldn’t stand a chance with you until you get that out of your system.” Arching a brow, you stared at him for a few seconds, giving your words time to land. 

You hadn’t discussed what had happened between you - or what you’d almost said - after waking up, and the following few days had been filled with planning sessions, meaning that Oberyn’s attention was divided. You’d thought about it, of course, and figured that he had, too … but you knew that he had far more important things to worry about.

But those things didn’t keep him from you in the time before you went to bed each day, Oberyn taking breaks to lay with you until you’d fallen asleep, his hand stroking over the parts of your body that he could reach and the two of you trading deep, slow kisses until your eyes closed and he had the opportunity to extricate himself, heading back into the other room with Ellaria, Toban and Tyene. 

You only knew this was the case because you’d woken up to an empty bed one night, the fear that he was gone filling you for long moments and only abating when you heard his voice from the other room, Toban’s joining in moments later. He’d always been in bed again when you woke up, though, the comforting weight of him beside you and his face the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. 

Tyrion hadn’t come back, but packages from him had arrived throughout the week - blueprints and files, a secure phone that he’d used to call your group twice - and so you knew that he was still all in. You also knew that while the actual plan was to attack just before the wedding ceremony, there were contingencies in place in case the Lannisters acted out of character and attempted anything at the party. 

“You certainly did not complain about the way I was touching you the other night.” Narrowing his eyes playfully, he cocked his head to the side. “Or the way I used my hands.” 

“And I never would, but Oberyn, I do enjoy walking and being able to comfortably sit in chairs and breathing without pain, so … yeah. Five or six thousand years is a lot more than two, so -” Leaning in, you kissed him on the mouth, nodding. “Yes. You do what you need to do and I’m going to go and convince Toban and Tyene to let me have a couple cheap beers and the greasiest -” 

“Do you want me to stay in the other room tonight?” His hands went to your waist, all traces of humor gone from his tone. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” That threw you, and you were unable to keep your expression from changing before you got yourself under control. Oh, Oberyn. 

“I’m … not sure.” Averting your eyes, you pressed your lips together. “I don’t think I’ll be able to answer that until I get back, to be honest.”  

“Thank you. Thank you for being -”

“Oberyn, will you please stop being annoying and let her leave?” Tyene popped her head into the room, a clear look of irritation on her face. “This isn’t the inquisition, and -” He stepped backwards, pulling you with him without looking away. But Oberyn used one hand to shove the girl back into the hallway, followed by closing the door before he pressed his back to it, two quick knocks from outside immediately following. “Two minutes, Martell. Or I’m breaking this door down, and -”

“I’ll be out in one, Tyene!” Raising your voice, you cut her off before turning your full attention to Oberyn. “I’ll see you when I get back.” You contemplated telling him to have fun, but decided against it, choosing instead to lean closer, winding your arms around his neck and tucking your head in. “In one piece, too. Maybe even a little tipsy. We’ll see.” 

“We will.” He kissed the top of your head, arms snaking around your waist. “Please be careful. Stay close to them. If one of them -”

“I’ll listen to them the same way I would you.” Backing off, you nodded. “I promise. Now kiss me goodbye and let me leave, alright?” He eyed you warily, but you could see that  there was pride in his eyes, too - the man staring at you in a way no one ever had before.

His kiss took you by surprise, the press of the man’s mouth gentle, even as the tips of his fingers dug into your sides. He deepened it, Oberyn swallowing your sigh as he traced his tongue along the edges of your teeth and then let it slide past them, meeting yours. 

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, though you could have read it as one, because you were about to walk out the front door of the apartment into an uncertain world for the first time in days. Instead, it seemed to be a promise - that even though you were leaving and he’d be going to bed with another woman that he was in love with while you were gone, he was what would be waiting when you came back. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He spoke into your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “Enjoy yourself.” 

He took your hand and urged you away from the door, opening it and walking down the hallway to where the other three were waiting. Toban and Tyene were dressed to leave the apartment but Ellaria looked more casual - her long hair down and trailing over her shoulders, the dress she wore loose, too. She looks … beautiful. 

“Alright.” Tyene clapped her hands together when she saw the two of you and then pointed at the door. “I need a damn drink, let’s get the hell out of here.” She grabbed your free hand as she passed, tugging you away from Oberyn without breaking stride. “Toban’s buying.” 

Two hours later, you were ready to admit that getting out of the apartment and back into the real world was exactly what you needed. 

After a short Uber ride, the three of you found yourself in Culver City - not quite close enough to your apartment to make it obvious, but in a place you were much more comfortable with than you would have been at one of the upscale downtown bars. 

You’d been on edge until you finished your first drink, constantly looking around the somewhat crowded room, fingers curled protectively around the frosty glass - but when you’d seen how at ease Tyene and Toban were, you followed suit. 

Your second drink went down smoothly, too, while you focused on a story that Toban was telling about the years he’d spent in Australia. But before you could order a third, the man stopped you, his hand settling on your arm. “We’re going to walk down the street to another place before we do anything else.” 

“Why? Is it -”

“I believe you call this bar-hopping?” He lifted his glass, saluting with it before he finished the final sips of his beer. “And there are still enough people in costume that it’s good cover.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Plus, I think Tyene’s got her eye on someone, so we’ll have to leave once she’s done.” 

The two of you watched as the girl flirted with a man near the bar, reaching up to tousle his hair while she laughed. Good for her. “What about you?” You focused on him, taking a breath. “See anyone here that you like?” 

“I can wait.” He drummed his fingers on the table, looking around the room. “I need less and less to survive as time passes. It’ll be good to… renew myself, but my focus right now is on you.” 

“I didn’t want this.” Shifting in your seat, you shook your head. “The last thing I want is for someone else to be responsible for me because I’m just -” A human. A weak little human who wouldn’t stand a chance against the Mountain or a vampire or something as fucking simple as getting hurt. 

“I can’t speak for her,” he interrupted, gesturing to Tyene, who’d pulled the man into a kiss. “But I’m always happy to spend time with new friends.” He laid his hand atop yours, squeezing. “Especially when they’re as special as you are.” 

“I’m just -”

“You’re not just anything. Not anymore.” Toban lifted his hand and held up one finger, the man nodding - and you only realized that he was signaling Tyene when his attention was fully back on you, his expression widening into a grin. “And now I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” He nodded again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. “What is -”

“Choose someone you trust. Not family, if you can help it… but someone that you can have a conversation with. Talk for a few minutes, and then invite them out. Invite them to meet us at a random place around here. Are you familiar with the area?” 

“Yeah.” You took the phone, turning it over in your hand. “Is there anywhere I should avoid?” 

“No. Tyene can hear what you say. She’ll head to wherever you suggest next once she finishes with her friend and wait to see if anyone … else shows up before we do. Enhanced everything is an asset to us. And when we know it’s safe, you and I will head there, too.” 

“Is this dangerous? I don’t want to risk it if … This was great. I don’t need to -”

“I heard what you said to Oberyn earlier. You need the interaction. You need to see a friendly human face.” He leaned closer. “You need more than any of us can give you right now.” He was right - and you knew it, so with a tiny nod of agreement, you averted your eyes and dialed a number you knew by heart. 

It rang twice before someone picked up, and at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line, you closed your eyes, grinning. “Nora? It’s me. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you back. Want to meet for a drink?” 

Tag list reblogs coming soon! 

[canonicallyobserving911]

WIP Wednesday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

FANON FanFic: Buddie Multi-Chapter - “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 33 will be posted this weekend! 🥳🥂🍾

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Currently 32 chapters completed: 1.465M Words; Rated: Mature

#1 {Previous snippet} #2 {Previous snippet} #3 {Previous snippet}

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I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 33 because at the end of Chapter 32, Buck and Eddie got the call from Angelo, the real estate agent in San Gimignano, Italy regarding the house they bid on back in December and they were informed the builder accepted it. Later that evening, they told their found family at the 118 about it and they had a lot of questions including if they were going to immediately relocate to Italy.

Eddie explained they wouldn't do it right away but he included a caveat that if Buck or Chris say they're ready to go, they would pack up and leave, no questions asked. They still haven't told the Diazes yet and they haven't told Margaret and Phillip either. Will they tell them in the next chapter? Also, in Chapter 31, Buck and Bobby agreed to have a conversation at a later date regarding Buck's meeting with Captain Mehta and the job offer he got from Captain Clarke at the 115. Will they have that meeting in Chapter 33? 👀

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Here’s a 4th emotionally angsty snippet from Chapter 33 of Buck's long awaited and delayed conversation with Bobby.

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“Buck, it’s not just the way I view you because it’s like I’ve said before, captains talk and a lot of times those conversations are had with members of the brass in the room.  Over the years, whenever you’ve disobeyed orders, I went to bat for you and it wasn’t easy.”

He sighs because Captain Mehta already explained that part and after a few moments, he says, “I appreciate you covering for me but that still doesn’t change the way you see me.  Since you said I’m a great firefighter, it appears you’re not fairly critiquing my accomplishments.  I think outside of the box and I know how to help victims.  Do you remember Gladys?”

Bobby takes a moment and when the bowling alley comes back to him, he replies, “I do and you’re right, you did think outside of the box.  If it hadn’t been for your idea to “embrace the cross brace” I’m not sure what we would have done.”

“Ok, so we can agree that I add value to the team.  Listen… I’m not perfect and I’ve made a lot of mistakes especially as a probie… but I’m not like that anymore.  I’m still me but I’m 31 years old and I consider the risks before I act both on and off the job.”

“I’ve never said you weren’t valuable to the team but it’s different when it comes to being a captain because we aren’t just chosen, it’s a calling and it also involves having the temperament for the trade.”

“Captain Mehta said it’s a two-way street so how can I obtain those skills if you aren’t willing to train me?  Bobby, let me ask you a question because you’re a legacy since your dad was a firefighter but what other types of job experiences do you have?”

“I’ve always been a firefighter but I worked my way up from that level to become a captain and I was married with two children…”

“And I’m married with one child!”  He stops talking and exhales because this conversation is turning into a shitshow of epic proportions but he didn’t want it to be like this.  He rehearsed everything he planned to say while he was driving but it’s all gone out of the window.  “Let’s be real because you got a lot of your experience in Minnesota and even after you made a mistake, your chief allowed you to transfer to the LAFD.”

Bobby doesn’t respond even though he knows it’s true.  The fact is if it hadn’t been for his chief agreeing to let him transfer, he wouldn’t be here.

The words that have been bouncing around inside Buck’s mind come out unbidden.  “Bobby, I’m not you!”

“I know that!”

“Do you?  I don’t think so and this seems like the lawsuit all over again.  Even back then you thought I was going to end up like you did after you were injured on the job but I didn’t get hooked on pain meds.”

“You’re right you didn’t but you did ignore the doctor’s orders because you were ready to return to work.”

“Ok… I admit I did that but after I got struck by lightning, I took my recovery seriously and I didn’t rush back so… please, tell me what the problem is.”

He doesn’t answer.

After several seconds of deafening silence, Buck hears Malone’s voice and it seems like he’s sitting right beside him.  {“Evan… go get your life because it’s calling you.  You are a natural born leader so be the captain you’ve always wanted to be and don’t let anyone stop you.  That may mean you’ll have to leave the 118 to get it but don’t let the fact that you won’t be working with the same people prevent you from living your dream.”}

As Malone’s words reverberate inside of his mind, in a low voice, he asks, “When Frank releases me from therapy, is there anything left for me at the 118?”

Bobby furrows his eyebrows.  “What do you mean?”

“I’m asking if there’s a future there for me or will I end up like Myers, Kendricks and Ortiz?  Those guys have been there for years and none of them have ever been promoted.”

“I can’t answer that question for you but I will say they’re happy with the way things are.”

“Well I’m not!  I want to get promoted because I have a lot of ideas and if I can’t get it done with you as my captain…”  He trails off and he chooses not to say the quiet part out loud because if he does, that will make it real.

They’re both silently sitting and waiting for the other one to speak.

A few seconds pass, then Buck admits, “I—I uh… feel like if I were to return to the 118, I really have no idea what I’d be going back to.”

He frowns and before he realizes it, the question on the tip of his tongue comes out unbidden.  “Buck, are you planning to leave the 118?”

How will Buck respond to Bobby's question? 🙃

Is he going to quit the 118 and become a full-time chef on the Food Network? 👀

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Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

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Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - After Buck resumes therapy, he’ll continue to face the fact that he “DIED” in March 2023 and during those sessions, he’ll learn about the 7 stages of grief. As he continues his healing journey, Eddie will be right by his side just like he promised and the Diaz family will start to deal with their three minutes and seventeen seconds loss as a family.

Chapter 28 - Two years ago, Eddie was asked, “What are you afraid of?”; twice, once by Frank and once by Buck but he only answered one of them without deflecting. Since that time, he’s been to therapy and him and Buck got married but the question resurfaces when Frank asks Buck the same question and Buck asks it of Eddie for the second time. However, when Buck asks, his reasoning will be about something else entirely.

Chapter 29 - After Buck and Eddie have an emotionally intimate conversation regarding their dreams, they make several decisions that will affect their future. When everything falls into place, they’ll realize one of those decisions will result in them no longer being work partners.

Chapter 30 - In 2018, Buck and Eddie met at the 118 and after some initial apprehensions on Buck’s part, they became work partners and they agreed to have each other’s backs. It’s been more than 6 ½ years, a lot’s happened, they got married in December 2023 and they have the family they both chose. With Eddie leaving the 118 in 3 months and Buck getting closer to moving past his grief, what will him losing his work partner mean for him?

Chapter 31 - As Buck’s life hangs in the balance from what’s suspected to be another bradycardia event, Eddie’s by his bedside, their son is being cared for by relatives and their found family is in the waiting room. During this time, many questions will surface that could possibly lead to the truth but will everything be revealed before it’s too late?

Chapter 32 - On January 2, 2024, the figurative skies over the Diaz family became gray and filled with storm clouds. Buck’s recent trauma, Chris’ school project and Eddie’s paramedic studies combined with the attack on Buck’s life, all those things contributed to the grief they’ve been experiencing. However, as the middle of February approaches, will the dark clouds dissipate so blue skies can return?

Chapter 33 - Will be posted soon.

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Read chapters 1-32 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

Chapter 33 will be posted this weekend.

[tennessoui]

In the assigned married fic, has Anakin even begun to process Padme saying that both of them will be moving to Naboo together? Like, they spoke earlier in the chapter about Anakin moving in with her on Coruscant, but Obi-Wan apparently spilled the beans about a much more permanent relocation to Naboo, and I am looking forward to Anakin's response to that, once he gets through processing everything else and remembers that part of the "conversation"....

i think padmé views moving to naboo more as a possibility than a future concrete plan -- the offer to be a permanent advisor on naboo is something she'd like to discuss with anakin as her husband before taking it or rejecting it. she says there's a lot of work she still wants to do in the senate, and she's probably thinking that it will be a few years before she would be able to go anyway. definitely after the war, but in her mind, she thinks anakin has every intention to leave the order after the war's over....because he kind of told her that. at least, in her mind he did: (from chapter 1)

“[Obi-Wan] asked me if I planned to leave the Order after the war,” he tells his wife. “And I lied, and then I think he began to support me. That’s what he looked like, anyway.” Padmé blinks at him, eyelashes falling slowly onto the jut of her cheek and then rising. “That’s good then,” she says, sounding hesitant. “That he supports us.” “Yeah,” Anakin replies, raising his hand to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Though…I’m sorry you had to lie,” she says, pressing forward until their faces are only a hand’s width apart. “Hopefully…” she trails off, biting her lip. Then she shakes her head slightly, and her mouth turns up into a smile as if she cannot help herself. “Hopefully he will not take the truth so hard.”

so anakin never says what lie he told obi-wan, he just says that he lied when asked if he was going to leave the Order, and that lie made obi-wan support him.

from an outsider's perspective, especially a biased outsider who is married to one of the insiders and believes them to have a future together, padmé's immediate understanding of this is that obi-wan asked if he was going to leave the order and anakin lied to him and told him he planned to stay and obi-wan began to support their marriage because he thinks he won't be losing anakin (padmé, who has three braincells, has long since realized obi-wan's obsessed with her husband)

and that's why she's smiling at the end (and also why they have sex at the fade to black) -- she believes anakin has just told her that when the war ends, he'll leave the Order to be with her and build a future together <3 so the offer to go to naboo is an option she can talk to her husband about, but she knows that anakin is going to no longer be a jedi....and if he's not a jedi, and she's not a senator....what's keeping them on coruscant?

BUT it's not just obi-wan that's feeling a bit catty during that dinner party scene, so i intentionally wrote padmé as putting this idea forward as less of a possibility and more of a done deal that she knows anakin will accept -- she talks about it like it's great big BACK OFF signs picketed around anakin because obi-wan is the biggest threat to their marriage in the entire galaxy and she's always known that

(but also no anakin has not begun to process that whole thing - but padmé, who now realizes they're NOT on the same page, is absolutely going to bring it up post-haste in the next chapter)

[delicioustarong]

In Beyond Reach AU

Did Spruce, Clay and Floyd found out what happened to their brothers, thinking they died?

I’m kind of new to this AU-

I know it was interested by For this you were born AU but yeah

OMG! I'm so glad people are starting to take notice of my au! I actually have an whole doc about this that I'm planning to share once I smoothen it all out. But for now I'll give you guys some crumbs, like for instance, the whole post-movie 1 timeline!

I couldn't find the words to properly explain what happened the Bruce, Clay, and Floyd without it being confusing. So I decided to just copy paste the whole timeline and let that answer the question LMAO. (Fair warning though, I might slightly change a few scenarios here in the main future but for now this is the rough timeline)

Post-Movie 1

(Rough timeline on what happened before the 10 year time skip)

The au starts with the brothers. Their father just died last year. Brozone didn't happened (cause it never got a chance *foreshadowing*)

Mom(38) begged/forced JD(18) into sacrificing himself, but failed to notice Branch(4) was with him. The sacrifice was made because their family was too big. Father volunteered himself when Floyd was born (at least that was what Mom told JD during his final moments) and when Branch got born, Mom decided that JD's next. Forcing him into following her to the kitchen where Chef allows Trolls to volunteer themselves to be sold/eaten in exchange of their families being left alone for Trollstrice.

John was ready to accept his fate until he realized Branch was with him. He had a bit of a melt down but was calmed down by the Trolls with him. They all decided they need to help JD escape, one troll in particular was very determined to help him. Liam has personal reasons why he decided to help JD, those reasons? nobody knows for sure.

Bruce(15) started taking care of Clay(12) and Floyd (9), while Mom started mourning

Mom got figured out by Grandma Rosiepuff (70), and they fought. Clay happened to overhear the argument and told Bruce what happened.

Bruce and bros left the troll tree and decided to go to the Neverglade where JD used to tell them stories about.

Grandma Rosiepuff stayed behind yearning for her little boys to come back. Mom disappeared.

JD is still alive with Branch, Liam pushed him off the cliff last minute. Sacrificing himself in the process.

He and Branch almost got killed. Only JD manages to get extreme injuries. Branch has a few scars.

Branch stayed with him, crying while JD was delirious and on the verge of passing out. Enter Rhonda, an Armadillo Bus who just recently lost her pups. When she saw Branch and JD her maternal instincts kicked in and she decided to care for them both

JD got better and Rhonda started accompanying them to their journey back to the troll tree.

The great escape happened, in which Grandma Rosiepuff is alive. Mom's whereabouts are still unknown.

Bruce, Floyd and Clay got separated after they fell down a cliff and into a big river (to them). Bruce and Floyd ended up in Vacay Island and Clay was found by Viva(12) and the others.

Floyd was seriously injured, forcing Bruce to stay with him. Bruce met Brandy(16) and her Dad who decided to help them.

Clay woke up scared and panicked, when Viva informed him that Bergens were trying to find them, he had no choice but to follow or else risk being spotted by a Bergen.

Clay and Viva found the abandoned putt putt course.

Chef got banished.

The other trolls have now relocated and are now rebuilding their village.

A year has passed, JD(19) and Branch(5) finally arrive at the Troll tree only to discover that it was abandoned, their house destroyed and nothing salvageable. JD assumed everyone died and turned gray, Branch seeing his brother so sad also turned a bit Gray.

They left and JD decided to venture out to the Neverglade where he used to imagine bringing his brothers there.

Bruce (16) and Brandi (17) became good friends, Floyd(10) got better. They both assumed Clay died making them Gray for a while, but Brandi and her family helped them through the difficult time, making them regain their colors.

Clay(13) and Viva(13) have now made the abandoned putt putt course into a functional and livable haven for the other trolls. Clay became co- leader. He wanted to search for his brothers but was conflicted to leave Viva and the course. So he stayed and hoped that they're alive and somewhere safe. He went Gray for a bit until Viva managed to help him.

JD and Branch build a bunker in the Neverglade, they don't live there but they do use it to store supplies. They're still gray. They decided to explore around the world.

King peppy has now managed to rebuild a new village and is now focusing on his youngest, Poppy (2). He built a memorial to all the lost trolls, Viva's being the biggest.

Grandma Rosiepuff (71)) visits the memorial everyday. During the great escape she brought any memorabilia of her grandsons and son

10 years passed

(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)✌️

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Prologue? Pilot? IDK Man I Just Work Here

(part 1.2)

{hey so uhhhh

i have finals coming up and its the last week of classes and im lowkey failing two of mine right now, so unfortunately im going to have to go on hiatus for a bit- even though i literally just started, ugh- while i try to catch up and deal with... all that

that said, ive decided to split the prologue up into three parts instead of two and just go ahead and give you what ive got so far of the rest of it

this and the third (and hopefully final) segment is where we really start setting up/contextualizing the "full house" premise of the fic

link to part 1.1 here}

~~~

So, over the next several weeks, they come up with a plan.

Most of them aren’t exactly happy about the plan, but… oh well.

The parents are determined to move their children- who have proven themselves to be prime targets for the supernatural- out of town, to relocate them somewhere they’ll be well-removed from the apocalypse unfolding in Hawkins. Caught up to speed about the history of Hawkins Lab and Owens’s involvement in everything, they all but order him to help with the arrangements.

And he delivers. Calls are made, blueprints are drawn, and before they know it, a plot of land has been secured two thousand miles away in California for a house to be built on. And it’s going to have to be a pretty big house, considering it’ll be home to six teenagers and a pre-teen.

The kids are dead set on not being separated again; it’s one of their conditions for agreeing to leave. Steve can’t blame them, honestly. After everything they’ve been through together, he doesn’t want to be apart from them either. In fact, he’s been feeling a bit paralyzed by the thought, has had a little trouble breathing since the move was decided.

He’s sort of out of it the next time everyone gathers at the hospital to hash out the details, to be honest, but in his defense, his head isn’t quite what it used to be before all the hits he’s taken in recent years.

But then the ongoing discussion turns to who will look after the kids, and well, that certainly gets his attention.

There’s a military blockade taking shape around the area, keeping the threat contained- but also the citizens. It’s only through Owens’s connections and influence that they’ll be able to sneak the kids out, and just that in itself is going to be risky. As much as they’d like to, they can’t take everyone.

The parents have agreed to join the resistance that’s starting to form, a force of townsfolk who have finally realized what’s really happening and are banding together to find a solution, or at least hold off the Upside Down from taking over for as long as they can. Hopper and Joyce have taken it upon themselves to teach everyone as much as they can about what they’re up against, and a few of the others are helping out with pooling resources and organizing community childcare.

For various reasons, their families won’t be coming along.

“Who’s going to take care of you all?” Sue asks, her question directed more towards the room at large than the kids themselves. “None of you are older than fifteen; I don’t want you out there on your own with no adult supervision.”

Karen starts to say something, probably about how she doesn’t intend to let Nancy stay behind either, that there will definitely be at least one person over fifteen present, but Steve cuts her off in his eagerness. He practically jumps out of his seat, actually, but he’s held in place by his desperate grip on the sheets of the hospital bed he’s still stuck in until he’s done recovering from the demobat bites.

“I’ll do it!”

Once again, all eyes are on him, and they’re broadcasting confusion, surprise- in the case of the parents, that is. The kids mostly look relieved. None of them will say it- the little shits- but he’s pretty sure they were just as worried about leaving him behind as he was about sending them away.

Claudia tilts her head at him in question. “You? What, by yourself?”

Steve figures the faintly bitter disbelief in her voice has less to do with him and more to do with Dustin’s deadbeat dad, so he chooses not to take it to heart. But before he can make a remark about how some men are actually interested in fatherhood- although he’s not entirely sure what his brain even means by that- Karen Wheeler speaks up.

“Not by himself, no. What I was about to say a moment ago was that Nancy is going too. I don’t want my daughter staying here after being involved with all this pretty much since the beginning. But, Steve, even then, you’re hardly adults yourselves- Nancy only just graduated high school last week. I don’t think you two should be left to basically parent seven kids all alone; it’s too much responsibility.”

(While she does have a point, and he’s certainly not opposed to having Nancy out of harm’s way, it’s also important to note that the daughter in question is currently busy giving shooting lessons to a sizable portion of the resistance. Nancy is no stranger to responsibility, but she isn’t exactly the motherly type, either. Regardless, Steve wants both roles for himself- at least on a subconscious level. He’s not quite aware of it yet, his rightful place as both mom and dad to the party, but… he’ll get there. He thinks of himself more as a glorified babysitter, really, but it is a position he takes very seriously nowadays.)

Mistaking Steve's spacey expression for something else, Dustin mutters smugly beside him, “I bet you would looove that.”

Steve rolls his eyes and shoots back, “Can it, kid. We’ve been over this. Nance and I are not getting back together.”

Nancy and Jonathan broke up after her graduation, for reasons which Steve has decided are none of his business. In some ways, this made the idea of rekindling their relationship- something his friends insisted he should try to do- more of an actual possibility. And yet, somehow, that in itself helped him realize that he doesn’t really want to get back together. And he knows she feels the same, even if there are some weird lingering feelings on both sides of the issue. They simply aren’t compatible, and that’s okay. It took him a while to get here, but now he’s happy just being her friend.

Thankfully, Robin joins in, interrupting that awkward train of thought and providing the solution to a problem Steve hasn't even considered yet.

“They wouldn’t be alone, Mrs. Wheeler. I can help out, too.”

“You would do that? Move across the country and play house with me and these brats?”

“Of course I would, dingus. Where you go, I go.”

The fondness in their exchange prompts some raised eyebrows from the others, but that’s irrelevant. Steve is just massively thankful that Robin is offering to come along. Having to choose between the kids and his platonic soulmate would have torn him apart just as badly as the bats did.

“And I’d say the same about Will and El,” Jonathan says as he joins the group. “So I hope there’s room for a couple more.” He glances questioningly at Argyle, who came in with him.

Argyle just shrugs. “I’m sticking with you, man.” Apparently, his parents turned him out to fend for himself when he hit eighteen, so he doesn’t have much to go back to, and he’s been content staying with the Byers until the blockade is lifted- or for the long haul, it seems.

Karen nods in Jonathan’s direction. “Good, I’m sure Joyce will feel better knowing you’ll be there.”

So that makes five of us. Considering I’ve wrangled most of these guys on my own plenty of times by now, that should be totally manageable. I guess it will be nice to have some guaranteed backup for once.

It looks like the gang is staying together after all, plus at least one new-ish addition.

But, speaking of "new-ish additions" to the group, there is still a six-foot deep hole in the entire plan, which is the question of what to do with a dead man when all his remaining friends are ditching town.

“What about... Eddie?”

~~~

{well folks theres the second installment of the prologue. as for the rest of it... youll get it when you get it. hopefully ill be able to start updating more regularly once i go back home for the summer. things are just kinda crazy right now hahahahaha <-(the deranged laughter of a person whose ass is not passing all their courses this time and is very seriously considering becoming a college dropout)

oh and yeah so eddies dead i guess. not what i had planned but sometimes the plot just does what it wants. you know how full house basically starts off with dannys wife dying in a car accident (offscreen and prior to the events of the actual show anyway)? and steve is like, very loosely the au's parallel of danny? well you might not have known that actually but i just told you. so. yeah. you get where this is going

also, to my unofficial beta readers and lovely mutuals @moreover-clover and @redley-of-many-noodles: i have seen your comments/messages and i appreciate your input, but ive decided im going to try not to take this project too seriously and just have fun with it rather than worry about how polished it is, so i think this is going to be a no beta project from here on out. thank you for the thoughtful commentary/critiques on part 1.1, and i do hope you continue to enjoy it <3

having said that, if anyone happens to notice glaringly obvious/simple typos that i could easily fix, or if any parts are just genuinely incomprehensible, feel free to point it out/ask for clarification if you want to}

[butchsophiewalten]

Findjackwalten 07/14/23 Update Walkthrough

Last night Findjackwalten updated! We've got one page update and two new pages. Let's start:

Findjackwalten.com

Our main page has updated! Jack and Rose's pictures are gone, and the whole page is greyed out now as opposed to being red. The shutdown text has changed to read "You just couldn't stay home, could you?". The play button here still works, with all new audio. It's a car radio, first it's an afternoon weather report, then just some talk radio intermission, and then it's music. There's also car noise, tires on asphalt, chair squeaks, turn signal, and general Car Creaking.

I've already seen some people theorize that this is audio from Felix's drive home after the crash, but that doesn't make a lot of sense to me since that's already what Guilty is. Feels redundant, as much as I love the idea of Felix driving home listening to Yummy Yummy Yummy by Ohio Express.

Findjackwalten.com/martinguaridasecretanoentrar

This page's URL and title is in Spanish. It just means "Martin secret lair do not enter" and the title "q pasa tia" in this context is like, "whats up, girl?". Kinda gossipy. Meant to invoke a vibe that you're being let in on a secret.

The top of this page reads "92%", referring probably to the percentage of TWF4 that is completed. The rest of the page contains "3 funny walten facts" Which are:

"Bon the rabbit was originally called Bon the Dancing Hare by Jack, ultimately Felix vouched against that because Rabbit sounds friendlier."

This is so fun to me! I did always think Bon was pretty hare-like. Funny that Jack wanted Bon to be a Jackrabbit. Also I can't believe "Bon The Dancing Rabbit" is still real. It's been so long since I've heard anybody call him that I kinda figured it was retconned.

"During the late 70s, BSI expanded further than restaurant chains, the showstoppers became famous for way different products such as random merch, plushies, furniture, toys, watches, bed sheets, lanterns, masks, lamps, toilet seats. BSI most succesful product was "Showstopper's Comedy Extravaganza", a 1977 animated TV show that ran for 3 seasons and was cancelled in the 1979's to make room for a "bigger project". it is unknown what was the cause for BSI to milk the showstopper franchise to that extent, what was the money for?"

This is something we sorta already knew? Relocate Project implied this sort of thing But I guess we didn't really know how successful their merch ventures were until now. Turns out, they were pretty successful! The "Showstopper's Comedy Extravaganza" thing is crazy to me though, three seasons? That 'what was the money for?' comment is also very ominous. It makes me think of the planned relaunch of Bon's Burgers but considering how vague the comment is and how the Bon's Burgers relaunch was something we already knew about, I'm wondering if it's something else.

"Sophie lived on the back of a meat store for the better part of 3 years, she managed."

How do I even comment on this. This is just so fucked. It makes me sick to my stomach. She was homeless for three years? Homeless? For three years? As a teenager? I feel like i'm undergoing hitherto unexperienced Sophie Emotions. What the hell do I even say.

Findjackwalten.com/btscene

Just a whole page of behind the scenes stuff! This is also hard to comment on, really. It'd be easiest if you just went and looked at everything yourself.

There's a little play button here with Anything Goes by Cole Porter, but I think it's been edited to sound more echo-y. Like it's being played in a big empty room, but also like the next room over? I've listened to a few versions of this song before but none that sound quite like this. This is also the song that's referenced lyrically in the new years 2022 version of /investigation1, with this bit of writing:

A decent bit of the stuff on this page is from the old Patreon, but not all of it, or even like, half of it. And some stuff (like the blue and purple Felix drawing) is old concept art that had been shared in the Discord server before.

[whispersafterdusk]

Magnificent - ch 1

A long train ride at least gave him time to think and plan and make lists to keep himself organized as well as occupied -- they staved off boredom in the short term and in the long term made relocating no big deal. Heck, he was practically an expert at making lists now with how often he'd moved for his contracts and having pencil and paper in hand meant that at least the logistics part of moving wasn't so nerve-wracking.

This one was titled "Things to check" and was six lines of scribbled out and underlined AND circled words for emphasis: - best outerwear for protection -- heat exhaustion? - eye protection - where's the medical clinic -- IMPORTANT - grocer's - mail and telegraphs pricing - rail schedule and plenty of space under and around it to add notes or questions as they came to mind (though he was confident that there wasn't really anything else too vital to add - there was the 'day 1' stuff and the 'pick it up as I go' stuff, with the former being WAY more important to answer quickly).

When the world abruptly went dark he flinched at the sudden change - it was just a tunnel and they were through it as quickly as they'd entered it, which meant Sandrock was minutes away; he was dying to stretch his legs. Stuffing the note into a pocket of his shirt he slouched and let his fingers fidget with the strap of his backpack in his lap; he might be a pro at packing and planning but as he was carried closer to his destination he could feel his nerves creeping up as he started to consider the personal part of being in a new place - a social butterfly he was not, he had never grown into it like his mother insisted he would. What would his neighbors be like? Or his boss? Hopefully they'd at least all be tolerable, being as he was going to be here for a couple of years.

Huffing out a breath he straightened in his seat as the train began to slow. ((Continued below cut))

-----------------------------

It was marginally cooler this morning than it had been over the last week; Mi-an took that as a good sign - like the universe was pitching in to welcome their new builder - and quickly checked her sign to make sure her sweaty fingers weren't smudging the paint. Lindsay adorned the board and was thus far smudge-free, and a loud warning whistle had her looking up quickly as the train crossed the bridge and began to slow down on its approach to the station.

Behind her at the stairs came tiny pounding steps, and Jasmine bounded up beside her a moment later.

"Good morning, Mi-an! Oooh, who's Lindsay?"

"Hi Jasmine! Lindsay is the new builder! She should be on this train - Matilda asked me to meet her here, show her to the commerce guild, that sort of thing."

Jasmine clenched her fists and shook them a bit, grinning. "Can I help? I can give her the same tour I gave you! -- after I deliver the mail, though."

"Uh, sure! I don't see why not."

Jasmine grinned in anticipation and spun around to face the incoming train, clasping her hands behind her back and rocking back and forth on her heels as they waited. There was the usual loud hiss of steam and the screech of the wheels on the rails as the train lumbered to a full stop. Jensen announced its arrival and called out the time, then went to the passenger car and threw the door open.

----------------------------------

He waited for the other passengers to get up and leave before him -- he'd already come close to knocking one person down with his heavy duffel bag getting on the train so it seemed more polite and efficient to let everyone else disembark first, and this short time alone would help him get a handle on the jittery nervousness that had started growing after the trip through the tunnel.

With the train sitting still there wasn't any wind barreling in through the windows and it quickly felt like an oven inside. Such oppressive heat...he'd spent some years in Barnarock but this seemed worse, and it was going to be a big part of his life for the next three years; he supposed some blame lay in traveling in a long-sleeved shirt but he'd valued the pockets more than 'breathability' for the trip (he would NOT be making that mistake again on the train ride out of here) but, here he was, and he'd just have to suck it up and deal. Tugging the list free he added another bullet point and wrote 'approximate daily water needed' to the bottom before stuffing it and his pencil back into the pocket and finally standing to slip his backpack on and heft the duffel bag.

There was a slight breeze on the train platform that felt heavenly against his skin; a short, squat, bearded man waved for him to come out with a smile.

"Welcome to Sandrock! All passengers not continuing on are welcome to rest in the station or head into town proper by the stairs to your left! All passengers continuing on should expect to re-board in a half hour!"

He offered the man a nod and headed for the aforementioned stairs, pausing when he spied a small woman standing there next to a kid holding a sign with his name on it and watching the passengers walk passed with a growing look of confusion.

---------------------------

Hmm...no one's stopped... Maybe I didn't make the name big enough?

Mi-an glanced nervously from face to face - not that there were a lot of faces to look at, but not a single one of them so far seemed interested in giving her the time of day. Was it possible Matilda got the date wrong? Or maybe the builder had missed the train?

A tall, muscular man stepped off the train last, carrying a duffel bag that was large enough she could have easily fit inside it. His face was a little flushed and sweaty, his short brown hair already wet at the temples with little beads of moisture running down into his neatly trimmed beard, and his shirt sticking to his arms at the elbows. He stepped away from the passenger car's door and headed toward her and the stairs; no one else got off after him and Mi-an frowned as Jensen shut the door behind him. Uh oh...where was-

Her train of thought screeched to a halt as the man walked right up to her and stopped.

"Wow, you're big," Jasmine said beside her, craning her neck to stare up at the man.

A small smile flickered over his features as he shifted the duffel to his other hand, then held out the freed up one to shake.

He didn't look familiar...so what did he-- Mi-an looked between him and the sign and his hand. "Wait - YOU'RE Lindsay?" He nodded. "Oh...oh, uh, howdy then! Sorry, I was expecting..."

"Yeah, I uh...I get that a lot," he said softly.

He had a nice, light baritone that was more of a rumble at that volume and Mi-an hurried to shake his hand; it utterly dwarfed hers yet his grip was especially gentle.

"Isn't Lindsay a girl's name?" Jasmine asked - voicing what was going through Mi-an's head right that instant.

"I guess not always! Anyway, I'm Mi-an and this is Jasmine. I was asked to meet you so I could show you where the guild and city hall buildings are."

He nodded silently as he let go of her hand and jumped a bit as Jensen appeared at his elbow.

"Here you go, Jasmine - not much in today, I'm afraid," the conductor chuckled, handing over a small stack of envelopes to the girl.

"Thanks Jensen! I'll be back once I've delivered the mail!" she said.

Mi-an waved as the girl skipped off then turned back to Lindsay. "Off we go then!"

With him following along she headed down the steps and over toward the Commerce Guild where she could see Yan and Mason waiting for them outside. As they got closer she could see Yan eying them, confusion plain to see.

"Uh...Mi-an, who's this?"

"This is Lindsay," she answered, tucking the sign under an arm. "I guess Matilda didn't realize she'd hired a man, not a woman!" Turning her head she smiled encouragingly up at him; the height difference was absurdly obvious now that she was standing right beside him, and she could only imagine how easy all the heavy lifting that came with being a builder would be for him and felt the tiniest amount of jealousy as she turned her attention back to Yan who was staring blankly up at the man.

Lindsay offered a sheepish wave in response to the stare. "I'm used to the mistaken identity thing."

"Er... I...guess that's possible. Matilda must not have read that application too closely... AHEM -- howdy there, Lindsay!" he said, still staring up and trying to get his tone and expression under control - he looked like a child trying to size up an adult and Mi-an suppressed a giggle. "I'm Yan, President of the Sandrock Commerce guild! Pleased to make your acquaintance, yadda yadda yadda..." He trailed off then leaned in to Mi-an to hiss in her ear. "You're sure this is our guy? Gal? Whatever?"

"As sure as I can be," Mi-an whispered back, shooting Lindsay an apologetic - and awkward - look.

"Eh, right," Yan muttered, straightening back up and forcing a smile as he turned back to Lindsay. "I'll be overseeing you and Mi-an, but don't think of me as your boss! Think of me as more of a buddy that's your...surpervisor! And this here's Mason - he's retiring, hence, y'know, the whole reason for you being here and whatnot. Anyway!" He shifted to point back the way they'd come, finger jabbing out between the two builders. "See that workshop there on the other side of the tracks? Once Mason's left it'll be all yours!"

At the man's sudden troubled look Mi-an cleared her throat. "Don't worry - you can stay at the saloon. It's right over there," she hurriedly explained, gesturing to their right. He seemed to relax at that and again nodded without a word.

Yan opened his mouth and closed it a few times, mustache twitching. "--er, well Mason, got anything inspiring you want to say to our new builders?"

Mason hardly reacted to the question aside from suddenly looking a bit more tired and worn. "Uh, well...let's not get too friendly since I'm on my way out of here." He paused, looking Lindsay up and down silently before shaking his head and moving off toward the station - presumably to head home.

Mi-an looked from him to Lindsay and gave the newcomer a small shrug. "He's...a man of few words?"

"Yeah, he was always a bit awkward," Yan muttered. He huffed and straightened his hat, then jerked his head toward the Commerce Building. "Follow me, time for the official speech on how things work out here. You can worry about lodging later."

"Right," came the rumbling response.

Yan turned and sauntered off toward the guild building and Lindsay followed along behind, as did Mi-an - she'd probably already heard everything since she'd gotten here first but he hadn't said NOT to come with him...better to hear it all a second time than miss something important.

------------------------------

"Hey Mi-an! Who's your friend?"

The man he assumed was Owen greeted them as they walked through the door; Yan had finally talked himself out and let them go and Mi-an had suggested they stop at the saloon first so he wouldn't be carrying his things all over town.

"Hi Owen - this is Lindsay. He's our new builder and is going to need a room for however long Mason sticks around," Mi-an said, heading over to hop up on a bar stool.

Owen reached below the bar with a smile. "Let's get a room sorted right away so you can drop your bag off." He produced an iron key with a rumpled paper label attached with worn twine from beneath the counter and hurried toward the far end of the bartop. "Here you go - head up the stairs and you're in the middle room."

They met at the bottom of the steps and Owen handed him the key; Lindsay took it with a nod and smile and turned to head upstairs as directed -- just to be absolutely sure he checked the label and saw a barely visible 2 in faded blue ink, and there was a small brass 2 nailed to the frame of the middle door. The key smoothly turned in the lock and he stepped into a nice, dim, and cooled room where, with a deep sigh, he headed over to the bed and gently sat the duffel bag in the floor next to the little bedside table then plopped his backpack on top of it.

Care had definitely been taken to keep the room in good shape; it was one of the nicest places he'd been in - at least in the top three - and if he didn't have to go to City Hall next he'd happily towel all the sweat off then sink into that bed and take a nap. For now sitting on the edge of the bed and letting his nerves settle for a moment would have to do; Sandrock was about what he'd expected: not a lot of people, hot, dusty, a little worn down -- he felt a little out of place, as he usually did in a new region, and while he wasn't regretting his choice, exactly, he was starting to wonder at what kind of living he could eke out here. The smaller population of the town combined with the outlying tiny villages he'd seen dotting the map would probably all average out in the end -- fewer big jobs but lots of small ones, and while the small ones would pay the bills so to speak those types of tasks had always felt monotonous...oh well. Gols were gols; he'd primarily come out here for a change of pace anyway and the contract was only three years -- if Sandrock turned out to not be the place for him then he could move along as soon as his contract was up, like he'd always done.

There was a tiny bathroom that connected with the next room over; the inner door for that room was locked from this side - no idea if there was someone staying in there but after he'd wiped his face off with a damp cloth he flipped the latch open just in case (and then locked the door on his side, from within his room) then headed back down to the saloon proper, slipping the key into his pocket as he went.

Mi-an and Owen were chatting in low voices when he reached the bottom floor and she perked up, smiling over at him.

"Ready for City Hall?"

"Yeah."

"It's just up the street from here," she said as she walked passed him. "And I can show you where the general store is too."

That WAS one of the things on his list, at least. He gave Owen a quick wave and a smile, getting the same in return, and followed Mi-an back out into the heat.

---------------------------------

The sun really glared off all the windows and the street up here and there wasn't any shade at all either; if it wasn't for the fact that this balcony gave him a great view of all but the streets and upper part of Sandrock behind him Pen wouldn't regularly pick this vantage point for his morning watch.

He could see that weak little shopkeeper setting up for the day, and their bumbling Civil Corps members standing outside the sheriff's house talking about whatever it was they wasted time on. Matilda had just entered City Hall through the door beneath his perch, there was Heidi and what's-her-name, the shopkeep's sister, standing at the notice board talking. And then there was the little builder walking up the road toward him with an...absolutely...massive...beast of a man walking along beside her. Who the hell was THAT? He was almost as large as Pen was!

Almost. From here it was hard to gauge it precisely -- it was a good effort at coming close to comparing though!

But seriously. Who was that?

When they reached the steps he jumped off and landed all awesome-like right in front of them; the man jerked back with his hands half-raised, as though he'd been expecting a blow or something, and had a suspicious look to him when Pen straightened and brushed off the dust he'd kicked up with the landing.

"Stop right there!" he bellowed, eying the man. The man lowered his hands after a moment but was standing very still - like an animal cornered by a predator. "Who's this?"

It was Mi-an who answered him. "Um, hi, Pen. This is Lindsay, our second builder."

"Lindsay?" he repeated, squinting. This guy was a builder? Building things could give you a physique like that? "Builder? You're sure?"

"...yes?" Mi-an answered, looking confused. "Who or what else would he be?"

"Could be one of Logan's gang - I don't see how a builder can reach THESE gains just from swinging a hammer," Pen snorted, reaching out to prod at the man's bicep. "What's your work out routine? Protein intake?"

"Uh..." The man didn't actually answer, still looking like he was ready to bolt. Suspicious.

"Huh...? Why would I be walking down the street with a bandit?" Mi-an asked. "Matilda's expecting us in City Hall."

Pen huffed; how annoying - odds were if he held them up for answers Matilda would come looking. "Fine. But you-" he jabbed his finger into the builder's appreciably large left pectoral. "-if you ever see a man named 'Logan,' run. To me. So I can dish out justice to this criminal. And in the meantime I'll come by again later to hear about your exercise routine because clearly something more than building is going on here."

The builder looked between his chest and the prodding finger. "...all right?"

"Hehe...maybe you should become a builder then, Pen," Mi-an giggled awkwardly.

She ducked around him and the man stiffly followed her without taking his gaze completely off Pen as he moved; Pen watched, arms crossed, until they disappeared inside then heard a burst of laughter from his left.

Turning his head he saw Heidi and the- Amirah! That was her name, right - with their heads huddled together, laughing.

"And what's so funny?" he challenged, shifting to face them.

"It's nothing," Amirah replied, hiding her mouth briefly. "You needn't worry about it."

"Oh hoh, now that sounds exactly like something I should worry about - if I were the type to worry about anything," he grunted. "So, what's the joke?"

"It ain't a joke - you saw him, right? Did Mi-an say who he was?" Heidi asked.

"That...was our second builder," Pen answered slowly, eyes narrowing. She was getting at something...but what...

"Oh good, he's staying," Heidi grinned. "Can't wait to meet him. It's not often we get someone out here built like that."

"...wha- built like "that?" Him?" Pen sputtered. "Excuse me ladies but I am right here! AND I was here first!"

"That's true, but," Amirah said slowly, "I'm pretty sure he has you beat, oh mighty Protector."

Pen let his jaw drop open - were they blind? Lacking spacial awareness? ...teasing him? The audacity! "He absolutely does NOT, I assure you. Compared to me he's-- he's...skinny! A bearded stick! In dire need of protein and a proper regimen! He'll have to work A LOT harder if he wants to catch up to ol' Pen, pfuh," he scoffed. "Didn't anyone ever teach you two how hurtful it is to lie? Honestly."

Heidi folded her hands across her stomach, shrugging. "I wouldn't be too sure about that -- I'd estimate he has you by at least an inch across the chest, if not more, and a few centimeters in those biceps bare minimum."

"Again, hurtful. Lies." Sticking his nose in the air he flipped his cape out of the way and spun on a heel to stalk off, grinding his teeth at the tittering laughter behind him.

Who did those two think they were? Rude, is what they were! Hmmph. And now he was in a bad mood... He would definitely go find that builder later and those girls could think whatever they wanted -- no one was stronger than him in Sandrock. NO ONE.

-------------------------------

Amirah waited until Pen was well out of earshot before turning to Heidi. "So...exactly why did you want to rile up Pen like that?"

Heidi was laughing too hard to answer right away, rubbing away a tear that had gathered at the corner of her eye. "He slammed my door the other day and knocked four picture frames off the wall, which I then had to commission replacements for."

"Goodness. What was he even doing in your office anyway?"

"Going on about turning one wall of his room into a floor to ceiling mirror or something," Heidi answered, shaking her head. "I can't just change anything in the dormitory without the Church's approval, AND he had the nerve to complain about the price too."

Amirah sighed, crossing her arms then shifting to instead rest one hand against against her cheek. "Has he at least offered to pay for the frames he broke?"

"Nope," Heidi answered, tone flat.

"Lovely..." Amirah sighed in response.

"It didn't cost much and Mi-an got them done in a matter of hours so they've been replaced at least. That wall looks way too bare to not have something on it. ...but, on a more serious note, our new builder, huh?"

With a nod Amirah turned to look toward City Hall's door. "Mmhmm. I wonder where he's from... I should get back to my shop, however. Do let me know if you learn anything about him, though I'm sure I'll either hear from Mi-an or get to speak to him myself eventually."

Heidi gave her an affirmative nod then headed back into Construction Junction, being sure to carefully close the door behind her.

--------------------------

Though the saloon was busier when the builder came back Owen still caught sight of him holding the door open for a few people before heading up the stairs - he was a big man so even in a crowd he'd be hard to miss, and was just as easily noticeable when he came back down the stairs in a dry, short-sleeved shirt. As he sat down at the counter Owen gave him a little nod to acknowledge him before ducking into the kitchen to bring out table 3's order, hurrying by and in his periphery seeing Grace hand the guy a menu.

After dropping off the order and quickly tending to a refill Owen came down to that end of the counter, putting on his warmest smile. "Hey builder! Did Mi-an give you the grand tour?"

The man looked up from the menu. "Jasmine did, actually."

"She likes doing that - she's a good kid, helps out around town wherever she can. You hungry? Thirsty?"

"Both," Lindsay answered. "And sorry for not saying much earlier. New places make me a little...shy, I guess."

"Ah, no worries, and no need to be shy around here either! You'll find folks are pretty welcoming."

A small smile ghosted across the builder's face. "I figured that out already, yeah."

"Just to make it an official introduction - I'm Owen, owner of the Blue Moon Saloon. Welcome to Sandrock," Owen continued. He stuck his hand out and Lindsay accepted it, shaking with a gentle grip, and a familiar-looking tattoo on the man's inner forearm caught his eye. "-not to be nosy or anything but is that...?" Owen released his hand and Lindsay obligingly turned his arm to bring the tattoo fully into view; it was a pair of boxing gloves touching at the knuckles, with short length of visible 'arm' extending out passed the ends of the cuffs. There was a capital L on each arm segment, and a larger capital B in the middle overlaying where the two gloves were touching. "Haha, I thought I recognized that! Lucien Boxing League, right?" Owen laughed.

"Yeah. Was a member while I lived there. Seven years."

Owen leaned down to brace his hands on the edge of the bar, letting out a wistful sigh. "I haven't been to Lucien in an age... Stayed there for about ten months back when I was younger. The league is where I learned to box, in fact! I was only a member about six months before I moved on though. Do you still box?" A nod. "Well, hey, if you're ever looking for a sparring partner, just ask! I've got all the gear needed -- not really anyone but me around here who knows the rule sets and whatnot, though. Justice - that's our sheriff - sometimes is up for a few rounds but boxing isn't really his thing so he only knows the bare basics. It could be a lot of fun to have an actual challenge again!"

Lindsay smiled. "I'll keep it in mind." He held the menu up to him. "Special, and water, please."

"The special comes with yakmel milk, did you want water instead of that? Both?"

Lindsay considered a moment, glancing back at the menu before holding it out to him again. "Um...both, but make the water a small."

"You got it," Owen chuckled, tucking the menu away and heading off to the kitchen.

Stewed beef and potatoes, sandberry egg soup, and a tall glass of yakmel milk to wash it all down -- an easy order, and it didn't take long to cook. As he brought the dishes out he noted Mason taking a seat on the stool to Lindsay's left, hunching over and looking surlier than usual.

"Afternoon, Mason - the usual?" he asked as he set the plates down in front of Lindsay and then stepped aside to get out of Grace's way as she came over with the glass of milk and water. Mason grunted quietly and didn't look up from where he'd clasped his hands on the counter. That wasn't...entirely out of character for him lately, but something about it seemed a bit off all the same. "Er...everything all right?"

The old builder was silent for several more breaths before his hand darted out and snagged Lindsay's glass of milk; turning on the stool he stared Lindsay down with a stony expression.

"You shouldn't have come out here. If you know what's good for you, you'll leave on the next train."

Lindsay looked shocked as Mason stood and downed the entire glass of milk in a few large gulps before moving to the far end of the bar to take a suddenly vacated stool.

"I...uh..." Owen sputtered a little bit -- THAT was definitely not in character. "I'll...get you another drink..."

He slowly backed a few steps up toward the kitchen, eying Mason silently, then as he turned to head through the doorway he heard Grace reassuring Lindsay with a "maybe retirement is already getting to him -- can I snag you anything else while Owen's getting that milk?" The heavy kitchen door swung shut before he heard an answer - if there was one - and for a moment Owen stood just beyond the door, puzzling over Mason's foul mood.

The guy was getting to retire and move on to (literal) greener pastures, and it wasn't like he was being driven out of his home to do it or anything - HE'D chosen to retire and leave, and that place was his until he left. Heck, would Lindsay even be able to work with Mason still here? ...he wasn't trying to convince Lindsay to leave because he'd changed his mind, had he? If that were the case it would be better for everyone involved if he'd just be honest about it immediately so Matilda could help Lindsay figure out living arrangements...it'd be awful to uproot your life, come all this way on a promise of employment and housing, only to have the housing half - which also directly impacted your ability to work! - be ripped away at the last moment.

Regardless of the reason, someone would need to make up for that rudeness.

Owen quickly poured a second glass of milk and headed back out to Lindsay. "So, uh...hehe, sorry about that. Not sure what's gotten into him. But how about this: when you're done eating we can head over to a booth and have a sit down, chat a bit - Sandrock is pretty different from anywhere else in the Free Cities and I like helping folks acclimate however I can. I bet you've got a lot of questions."

Lindsay nodded (he had a full mouth - Owen probably could have timed that better) and Owen stepped away to settle up the bills with a few folks. He split his attention evenly between the remaining customers from the lunch rush, Lindsay, and Mason -- the latter was still sitting at the bar nursing his second glass of milk and looking less prickly but more...gloomy. If he got a chance Owen would try to talk to the man and see what was bothering him but when Lindsay was done he led the way over to the booth near the main door as Grace took care of clearing away the dishes.

"Not bad timing," Owen chuckled as they sat down. "Crowd is light enough that Grace can handle things while we chat. I know Sandrock can be a bit overwhelming to newcomers but lucky for you this old barkeep has been around for just a hair longer than a panbat's age! Perhaps I can shed some light on any subjects you're unfamiliar with, or answer any questions you've got about desert life."

Lindsay smiled faintly and reached a hand up toward his chest, then paused and glanced down. "...wrong shirt." He was silent a moment, thinking. "Does that tailoring shop I saw do custom orders for clothes? As stuff wears out I'll need shirts and pants that can hold up to work without cooking me and I don't usually find ready-made clothing that fits that criteria AND me all that often."

"Absolutely - just go see Vivi, she'll get you sorted out whether it's work clothing or otherwise. I can't speak for what you'll need for your builder duties but for casual stuff around town you'll want anything loose-fitting that breathes and long sleeves to keep from getting burnt to a crisp," Owen answered. "Hats really help keep you cool too."

Lindsay nodded. "I've lived in extremely hot climates before so I somewhat recall what's appropriate for day to day living - it really is just an issue of finding things in my size that can handle how rough a builder can be on fabric."

"Ah, I gotcha. Luckily Vivi does it all: custom orders from scratch, alterations, and stuff good to go right off the shelf in various sizes - possibly even yours, so no need to worry about that."

"Got it." Lindsay hesitated then; Owen waited until he continued. "Is it safe enough to go for walks and runs around here?"

"Here in town is pretty safe. I mentioned him before but our sheriff Justice and I go way back. He's one of the toughest guys around, his partner Unsuur is very reliable, and they get a lot of help from Pen with the Church-" he stopped as Lindsay winced a bit at the mention of Pen's name. "-I take it you've met Pen?"

"Yeah..." the builder answered quietly. "Thought he was there to pick a fight at first."

Owen laughed. "He's excitable and earnest, but he'd never purposely goad someone into an outright fight for the heck of it. Now, he will probably insist on taking you down to our showdown ring to teach you the basics of combat, which is going to seem like an excuse to fight and not get in trouble for it, but he does try to do his best to make sure people are prepared for the dangers around here - in his own way. I think you'll be fine though if you've been a boxer for seven years plus some," he added, chuckling.

That got a smile out of the man. "Understood. So town is safe, but what about elsewhere?"

"That's a bit trickier," Owen answered, sighing. "We've got dangerous wildlife around, the environment can be deadly if you're not prepared, and, well, you've probably heard about our bandit problem." Lindsay nodded. "The more infamous one is Logan. He used to be a citizen of Sandrock, then one day he just went crazy and blew up a building. I guess being out here in the desert makes some people lose their minds... Other than that, you'll mainly want to watch out for the rocket roosters, the rockyenarolls - they both attack in packs and flocks so if you see one always assume there's more somewhere nearby and just try to give them a wide berth. They usually don't attack unless you get close, at the least. Then there's the Geeglers. They're mutated lizards who seem bent on causing us trouble for some reason... And, of course, there's sandstorms. It's better if you just stay inside during one of those -- we've...we've lost a lot of folks to them over the years. Our mayor is out in the desert right now trying to stop the winds from blowing sand over what little greenery we have left."

The builder hummed thoughtfully, leaning back against the booth and propping an elbow atop the back of his seat, giving Owen a good view of how built the man was. Though he'd just warned him about all the dangers he didn't think he'd have much to worry about; boxing may not be the right kind of fighting style for all occasions but just being a big guy in general ought to be a bit of a deterrent to man and beast alike, not to mention the reflexes and reactions that came with practicing the sport. (Owen was already wondering if he'd come to regret asking him to spar in the ring - he'd better brush up on his skills if he didn't want to be embarrassed).

"I heard folks on the train fretting over whether they'd be able to afford water around here so how does that work?" Lindsay asked then.

"I'd think that's a bit of an overreaction, but you'll want to talk to Burgess over at Water World," Owen replied. "It's the tiny storefront over at the water tower's base, and Burgess runs it - he's a really nice guy, and will insist on helping you carry the water back to your place after you've bought it so don't feel bad about that. We're big on conserving water out here; we have to be. That oasis has been getting steadily smaller over the decades... Buy only what you need to fill up your tank, and check the filter weekly to make sure it doesn't need cleaning. I usually keep two or three spare filters on hand so I can rotate them out when I need to clean one of them."

"Are there ever any boil warnings?"

"Burgess will warn you if there's a boil warning in effect. We usually don't get those until toward the end of the month when the water in the tower is getting low and we need to start drawing off the oasis stores. We get the majority of our water from Portia and Atara and it gets filtered and treated before they ship it to us."

He was silent for a few breaths, clearly thinking. "...I think that's all I have for now. The rest I'll learn as I go."

Owen paused as Grace came over and set two glasses and a pitcher of water on the table between them. "You two look like you'll be here awhile," she said with a smile directed at Lindsay, who returned it but didn't comment.

"Thanks Grace, appreciate it," Owen chuckled before turning his attention back to the builder. "If you think of anything else feel free to ask. In the meantime, if you feel up to chatting still - no pressure at all! - do you mind talking a bit about yourself? I like getting to know my neighbors."

Lindsay smiled faintly. "You're a native Sandrocker, then?"

"Yep - born and raised and, aside from some traveling in my younger years, I've always been here. How about you?"

"My family is from Seesai, originally. We left when I was little and moved to Ethea, then to Barnarock. After I completed school I started out on my own: Tallsky, Lucien, back to Barnarock, then Highwind, then here."

"Barnarock, huh? Arvio and Amirah are from there. How's the weather compare?" he chuckled.

Lindsay shook his head, helping himself to the water. "My time in Highwind must have de-conditioned me when it comes to extreme heat. I didn't think Barnarock was bad until I got to Highwind and remembered what actual weather was like, and now I'm here and it's too hot again."

"I do get told a lot that we're hotter than Barnarock, it just means we all have to be mindful of the heat and our health. It's not so bad once you get used to it and learn how to manage." Suddenly the man tensed, eyes on something off to Owen's left. Turning his head slightly he spotted Pen having just walked through the front door, on his way to the bar. "-he's really not so bad," he said quietly. "A bit - ...ah, well, a lot - full of himself, but not someone you need to be afraid of."

"You'd be amazed at the number of times I've been sucker punched because some guy had to prove himself or whatever," Lindsay replied, eyes still riveted on Pen. "He definitely gave me that feeling earlier."

Owen looked back to him, blinking in surprise as that sunk in. "...really? People have just up and attacked you before?"

"Yeah. Growing up it was because I've got a 'girly-sounding' name. Then as I got older they were mostly drunks, or the newcomers to the league who thought they needed to make an immediate name for themselves by picking a fight with whoever they thought was the toughest in the room. But, yeah, really. You get to where you assume people walking up behind you or approaching you with, uh...with purpose, don't usually mean well."

"Well, I don't allow that sort of thing in the saloon - I've bounced my fair share of folks out of here for bad behavior - and Pen certainly won't do that."

"If you say so." With that Lindsay...didn't quite relax, not fully, but he at least looked away from Pen.

"-oh! Speaking of the league, was Sugar Pete still there when you were a member?"

The builder snorted in amusement. "Yeah, he was."

Owen let out a low whistle. "That man was ancient even back then... He'd have to be, what, almost 90 now?"

"Nearabout. Haven't heard that he's passed away so he's probably still sitting ring side yelling at the new blood."

With a laugh Owen shook his head. "He was a character, wasn't he? Did he name you or did you get to pick yours?"

"He did. You?"

"Yeah, he picked my name too," Owen replied, grinning. Ol' Sugar Pete...Lucien's boxing legend way back when and general terror to the newest members of the league, but there wasn't anyone more knowledgeable about the sport than him and though Owen had regularly gotten the tar knocked out of him at the start under Sugar Pete he'd eventually gotten competent enough to hold his own. "I ended up with Hotfoot." A slow smile crept its way across Lindsay's face at that. "I know, not exactly impressive. What'd you end up with?"

"Avalanche."

"...ah," Owen said.

Yeah, he was probably going to regret getting in the ring with him.