#i love the others too ofc i wouldn’t have paid for them otherwise

[morgenlich]

pls give it up for ms. emerald city 💚🦚

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Heyy hiii I love your blog🤍 If you're still taking requests... Could you write an Aemond Targaryen who is obsessed with his half-sister or aunt?

(Fuck yes I can!

For this story the ages are a little off which frustrates me but I did that to make sure that Y/n wouldn’t be considered ‘too old’ to marry. If however, the person who made this request wants something with an older OFC, like a cougar-y kind of story with him obsessed and willing to do anything to have her then let me know and I will try my hand at that for you)

Y/n had been born first just before her mother Aemma had died giving birth her twin brother, who sadly died just a few hours later, leaving Y/n alone.

Rhaenyra took very good care of her, as much as she could as her younger sister was just a babe and now had no mother and no father as Viserys had all but checked out…especially after marrying Alicent and having more children.

Y/n was only just under 1 year older than Aegon as Alicent had gotten pregnant almost immediately after the wedding however as Rhaenyra was having her own children she took care of her sister less and less, leaving the girl on her own a lot of the time. Alicent had taken a liking to the young girl and they were quite close, which is what led to Y/n and Aemond’s relationship in the first place. Aemond loved Y/n from the moment he was born. When he was with her he was always content and happy, but if she left him alone he would cry and scream for her until Alicent could no longer take it and sent for her once again. That lasted until the boy was about 3 and she was 6 and from then on he was basically attached to her skirts.

Neither of the children had a dragon to their name and spent their time dreaming of flying across the 7 kingdoms together. Aemond had always promised to take his half sister with him when he mounted a dragon one day, and though Y/n thought it a nice dream, Aemond was determined to make it come true. He swore to her that one day he would be strong and that he would protect her, no one would ever bully them again. Y/n did not know just how seriously her younger brother took that vow.

He was 9 years old when Rhaenyra moved to Dragonstone and snatched his happiness away as she took their 12 year old sister with her and it was at that moment that Aemond realized how in love with his sister he really was. She would be his, no matter what he had to do to ensure it.

When they met again on Driftmark it was like no time had passed, they stayed by each others side while everyone mourned, but Aemond wasn’t sad, he was determined. With the death of Laena there was now an unclaimed dragon, the largest one alive and he was going to claim her or die trying. To say Y/n was upset that he risked his life to mount Vhagar would be an understatement however he had done it and the pride and happiness on his face wiped away her anger…for about 10 minutes before watching her nephew slice her brothers eye from his head. She held close to his side for as long as she was allowed, holding his hand as the maester stitched him up painfully.

‘I do not wish to frighten you with my scarred face sister, you shouldn’t have to see this.’ He told her later that night as she sat beside his bed to watch over him, the milk of the poppy he had taking quick effect as his good eye began to close against his wishes.

‘You could never scare me brother, you are as handsome as ever and anyone who says otherwise is blind. I will never fear you, no matter what. I love you too dearly.’ She swore, curling up into her chair and drifting off by his side in case he needed anything during the night.

Aemond’s hand held tight to hers all night long, never letting go as if terrified, even in his sleep, that she would disappear.

Aemond was comforted by her words and it is the only thing that got him through the next years. That and the fact that he had “convinced” his sickly father to betroth Y/n to him.

Aemond was told by the men he paid to keep watch over his Princess on Dragonstone that Rhaenyra had been trying to betroth her to Cregan Stark of Winterfell. The Wolf in the North was apparently quite taken with his Princess and Aemond couldn’t blame him, but he would kill him if the man went anywhere near his sister and he made that perfectly clear to his mother and Grandsire. Aemond had vowed that if they didn’t betroth him to Y/n immediately that he would take Vhagar and have her burn Winterfell and every Stark in existence to the ground. He would melt all of the snow in the North if he had to to make his point. Both Alicent and Otto knew that her son was serious and would do exactly as he promised, they also knew that no one could stop Vhagar if Aemond decided to put his threat into action and so they had the King order the marriage.

However other than Rhaenyra acknowledging the order from the King, he heard no word from his betrothed until he was 18 and it was ordered that she return to Kings Landing to be with her soon to be husband. Aemond had kept eyes on her since the day she had been forced to leave him, men that worked for Rhaenyra were secretly under his command, 2 of which became Y/n’s personal guards and wrote the Prince everything about her so that Aemond didn’t miss a thing. He knows all of her interests, what she loves to do everyday, her daily schedule, the foods she likes and more importantly doesn’t like, and he also had them ensure that no man got close to his future wife in anyway. He knew that Jace had an interest in his aunt, the guard reporting to him that the boy had been grounded to his chambers on more than one occasion for watching her bathe or trying to sneak into her rooms in the night and it both enraged and delighted Aemond that Jace wanted his sister but also that he would have to see her happy with the person that Jace hates most. Aemond would ensure that he could rub it in his nephews face that the babes that Y/n would bare would never be anyone’s but his.

Over the years since she had been gone her brother had changed, not just at her having been missing from his side but especially after Aegons actions in taking him to the silk streets on his 13th nameday. Aemond felt disgusting but he was determined to be a better husband than his elder brother was, after all, Y/n was his. His sister, his wife, his everything and he would ensure her happiness. He would make her his and fill her with as many Targaryen babies as possible, Aemond couldn’t wait to see her swollen with his child at his side and in his bed, his elder sister was just too perfect not to be full of his children for the rest of her days.

2 days after the letter was sent to Rhaenyra he was greeted by the sound of huge wings and angry dragon roars as the large black dragon descended on the Red Keep, a dragon that everyone recognized instantly which prompted them scattering like mice. Aemond had heard that his sister had mounted the cannibalistic dragon but to actually see the creature was incredible. He found it funny that his sister, who was a loner with a tendency to be aggressive ended up with the aggressive loner dragon who would have burned anyone else to dust…he must feel how similar they are, honestly it was a fairly perfect fit if you asked him. Though he could have done without the teeth bore in his face from this scarred beast.

He got as close as he dared, watching as a beautiful women slid down the dragons neck to her feet, the dragon nuzzling her and nearly knocking her from her feet (though the gesture was gentle for such a giant dragon who had to be just slightly bigger than Caraxes) before he took to the skies again and left her to look around the courtyard.

She was a vision, more than Aemond could have imagined after all these years without her and as she turned to see him for the first time, the smile that lit up her face gave him butterflies. ‘Aemond? Wow! Look how you’ve grown, you are certainly not that little boy I remember anymore, you are a man grown! Look at this handsome face!’ Aemond took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles in greeting, unable to look away from her perfect purple eyes.

‘You are a vision, more beautiful than I could have imagined…and I have imagined for years.’ Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as she blushed and he held his arm out for her to take. ‘Come, I will show you to your chambers and you can freshen up, I know you must want out of your riding clothes-‘

‘Actually…I had hoped we could go riding together like we always promised we would. My sister would not let me come to Kings Landing before now but you did swear to take me on Vhagar when I returned.’ She reminded him as he guided her through the halls of the castle.

‘I could never forget my promise to you, however we will not be permitted to disappear together the night before our wedding, it would be improper after all.’ He teased making her roll her eyes with a smile.

‘Right because riding a 10 ton scaly lizard into the night is definitely a romantic evening.’ She paused after saying that before speaking again. ‘Actually, never mind, for a Targaryen that has to be the most romantic night possible. We’ll save it for tomorrow night.’

‘As you wish sister. Here is your chamber for the night, tomorrow night your things will be moved into one of our own. You change and get comfortable, I will return in a half an hour and we can take a walk in the gardens, how does that sound?’

‘That sounds lovely brother. I look forward to it.’ Aemond leaned down and pressed his lips to her hand like the gentleman he was, watching once again as her face grew pink and he loved her sweet blush, vowing to make it happen as often as possible.

The wedding that next evening was a huge affair. Everyone was present, members of every house in attendance for the event, and even all of the peasants celebrated as they left the Sept, throwing flowers and cheering their congratulations as they had all loved Y/n since the moment she was presented to the world as a baby (often ordering the gold cloaks to feed the poor, especially the children in need). Rhaenyra and Daemon had shown up with the children late, clearly hating being there for a marriage they didn’t want and Aemond couldn’t help but silently gloat to Jace who glared at him all through dinner. As they locked eyes Aemond could not resist giving in to his petty attitude, leaning down and touching his lips to his wife’s and enjoying the feel of her lips pressing against his in return as she clearly enjoyed the show of affection. His nephew glared harder at him before eventually taking Helaena’s hand and bringing her to dance as if trying to anger the One-Eyed Prince but nothing could do that right now, not now that Aemond has everything he’s ever wanted.

‘Would you like to retire now my beautiful wife? I want to make this marriage official before one of the dozens of men here that are jealously staring, attempts to steal you away from me.’

‘As if anyone else could take my attention away from you.’ At that moment there was suddenly the sound of several women screaming and they both turned to see that right in front of the Kings table Jace was locked in a physical fight with a man on the dance floor. Aemond turned his wife’s body away and pulled her to his chest to shield her, not wanting her innocent eyes to see such violence. Even if he enjoyed watching Jace get hurt he knew that his wife would never be the same if she was forced to potentially witness him die and he loved her innocence too much to let that be ruined. The guards pulled the man out of the hall and most likely to the Black Cells after Daemon had saved Jace from being butchered, following along with a rage filled Rhaenyra to question the man. Y/n pulled away from her husband and moved to the floor, inspecting her nephews face and Aemond nearly growled as Jace leaned into the affection. ‘Are you alright nephew?!’

‘Yes, of course, I am fine. I had it under con-‘

‘Thank goodness Daemon was here! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!’ She demanded and Aemond watched on as Jace’s face fell once again. ‘You are my sweet nephew, not a soldier or a brawler in the streets!’

‘I don-I’m-Uh…‘

‘She is right nephew, we could never forgive ourselves if you had been hurt attending our wedding…perhaps it is time for you to retire for the evening. Too much wine makes the mind do stupid things.’ Y/n nodded along with Aemond but Jace just glared at him.

‘This has nothing to do with you Uncle! Keep your thoughts to yourself! I don’t need-‘

‘Jacaerys! How Dare You?! Have care how you speak to your own family, Aemond is simply showing his concern for your well being! If this is your current state then he is correct, you should retire. I’m sure Luke will help you to your bed, won’t you sweet boy?’ Luke nodded his head, moving to take his elder brothers arm.

‘No! I don’t need to-‘

‘We should be retiring as well anyway. I must ensure my new wife is taken care of…’ Y/n blushed at her brothers words, leaning into his body as his hands found her waist comfortingly.

‘You are right brother, I think I have had enough partying for one day. We have a family dinner tomorrow evening anyway, we can celebrate more then.’ Suddenly Aegon, who had been drunkenly enjoying this whole situation, was grinning in excitement and stepping up to the newly weds, hand on his younger brothers shoulder.

‘Yes brother, time to retire. The bedding ceremony must be seen to before the end of the evening! I shall get our Grandsire and elder sister to-‘

‘No!’ Aemond snapped, everyone that was listening jumping in fright at the rage in his voice. He had felt his wife’s body tense as she pulled him closer by his jacket that she was now clinging to for dear life. ‘There will be no bedding ceremony, I will have neither my sister nor my wife gawked at in her most vulnerable state as if she is some cheap whore on the street of silk! Y/n is my wife now, and no one else will ever see her in such a way ever again. I assure you brother, I can handle consummating my marriage just fine without your wandering eyes and words of encouragement.’ Aemond looked back down at his bride and took her face into his hands, wiping away the tears that escaped in her moment of panic, no one having mentioned a bedding ceremony and Aemond himself having assured her that it would not be happening.

‘My young Prince, it is tradition to have a maester and at least 3 members of the family present to ensure the wedding is consummated. Your brother, myself, Rhaenyra and Daemon are going to-‘

‘No Grandsire, you are not-because if you try to enter our marital chambers tonight, or really any night from this moment forward for any reason under the sun, I will break your spine and be feeding you to either Vhagar or the Cannibal in the morning. I will let my wife decide which she would prefer to make a meal out of your body as it is her you are offending. I am uncomfortable with how determined you are to watch me make love to my wife, and I am telling you that it will not happen.’

‘Aemond! You cannot speak to your Grandsire this way, you must-‘ Aemond cut his mother off quickly, startling her as he had never spoken to her like this before.

‘Do not make the mistake of believing my words to be exaggeration mother, they are not. Anyone who steps foot into our marital chambers this night or any moment from this one onward will find themselves being fed to a dragon of my wife’s choosing. She is my wife! And it is my job to care for her as such! I will not have her humiliated or upset as she gives herself to me for the first time…or any time. That is the end of the discussion, however you may wait in the hall and once we are done I will deliver you the sheets from our bed as your proof. That will have to suffice because it is all that you are getting.’ He looked back down at Y/n who had tears in her eyes once again but this time they were not fearful or embarrassed, but grateful and full of love. ‘Come my wife, it is time that I make this marriage official and fill you with my son. I must give my wife all of the lovely Targaryen babies that her heart desires.’

Aemond bent down slightly before lifting Y/n into his arms like a babe, whisking her away and out of the party. ‘Thank you Aemond…I know I should just accept it but I-‘

‘My wife will never be seen by anyone but me in any state of undress from this moment on, and should anyone sneak a peak at you I will deliver you their heart and feed the remains to Vhagar. Don’t you ever apologize for being uncomfortable, it is my job as your husband to see to your safety and I take my job very seriously.’ He assured her, kissing her head as they reached their new marital chambers where all of their things had been moved to. As Aemond carried his sister through the door he kicked it shut behind himself and locked it with both locks before using the thick wood plank and barring the door so no one could get in without more work than it was worth.

‘Will you assist me with the dress, husband?’ She teased making Aemond smirk, eyes darkening at the thought of finally undressing the prize he has worked and waited for, for so long.

‘You need not even ask, my love. Come here.’ He quickly unlaced the back of her dress, allowing it to fall to the ground and leave her in her small clothes which she removed before crawling into the bed and looking back up at him nervously. ‘Relax my love, you will love every second of this, I promise you.’ He swore and she took a breath, nodding, though her eyes grew wide again as he removed his trousers and revealed himself to her for the first time, now naked as he crawled onto the bed, leaning down to kiss her, sucking his way down her neck and chest.

‘A-Aemond? What are you-‘

‘Shh…just relax. I’m going to take care of you Princess, just trust me.’ He lifted her leg up by the back of the knee and leaned in, pressing his mouth over her slit before trailing his tongue up between her pussy lips and brushing against her clit, causing her hips to jump against her will.

‘I’m s-sorry-‘

‘Don’t apologize again, just enjoy it.’ Aemond wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, brushing his tongue against it repeatedly which seemed to shut her up quickly, the only sound remaining was her never ending moans. He pressed a finger into her tight hole followed by a second one which earned him a soft mewling noise that he couldn’t help thinking was adorable as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her, stretching her as gently as he could to prepare her for him.

‘Oh Fuck! Aemond!’ She seemed to be hanging right on the edge in that moment until he curled his fingers up and just as he did she cried out at a whole new octave and her pussy squeezed his fingers in a vice grip, her body shaking while she panted as if she had run a long distance and he couldn’t help but find her flushed face absolutely beautiful.

‘You are so gorgeous…’ he crawled up over her and touched his lips to hers while spreading her legs. They wrapped around his waist before he pressed his cock against her hole and instantly felt as if he had died and gone to Heaven. 9 years he had waited after realizing how in love with Y/n he truly was, 9 years dreaming of this moment and wanting to make it just as special for her as it was for him just knowing how good his sister would make him feel, and he was right. Her cunt was like the sweetest vice grip he had ever experienced, he had never felt anything more wonderful in his entire life as he stilled his hips and just waited, not wanting to hurt her or cum so fast that she would inevitably laugh at him. ‘Are you alright?’ He questioned, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting her too badly but she nodded.

‘I want to see all of you brother…I never want you to hide any part of you from me again.’ She spoke as she reached up and pulled the eye patch from his face. He reflexively turned his head away but she caught him, turning his head back and pulling him down to kiss the scar both over and under his eye. ‘My husband nor my brother will ever have to hide from me, you are so strong…and I think my husband is the most handsome man in the 7 kingdoms. I will fight anyone who chooses to disagree with me…and I have a Dragon so they will most assuredly lose.’ She teased making him smile before he choked on his breath, her pussy squeezing his member suddenly before she wiggled her hips. ‘Take me brother, I am all yours now!’

‘Yes you are…Mine! I will kill anyone who even thinks to disagree with me! All mine…’ Aemond spoke, shifting his hips back before pushing back in gently, doing it again only to thrust up into her this time. ‘Your husband is going to fill your belly so full tonight that no one will be able to question whether or not you are carrying my son. You want that, don’t you Princess? You want me to give you a baby?’

Y/n’s head nodded frantically as Aemond was now jack hammering his hips into her mercilessly, her whines prompting him to go faster. ‘Yes Brother! Yes! I want to give you everything! Fill my womb so that I may give you all the sons you want!’

‘Never going to stop breeding your cunt, Gods you feel magnificent! We’re going to end up having an entire army because I am never going to stop fucking you! Cum for me Princess and your husband will fill your womb, give me your pleasure!’ He demanded just before she cried out, her head thrown back as her cunt clamped down on him so hard he briefly thought it would hurt before the pleasure shot straight up his spine and he buried his cock into her as deeply as he could.

Aemond couldn’t tell how long they laid there breathing heavily and just holding each other, it felt as if they lost time before there was a knock on the door and Y/n flinched, instinctively trying to cover her body with a blanket despite no one entering. ‘My Prince? If you have finished we need-‘

‘Shut Up! Say Another Word and I Will Remove Your Tongue!’ He growled to the maester at the door. ‘Stay still my love, I will take care of it.’ He kissed her head and she smiled, humming contently before wincing as he pulled out of her, using his thumb to press his cum back into her abused hole as it leaked out. Aemond jumped up and pulled the sheet carefully from under her and off of the bed, rolling his eyes as he saw the small amount of blood on the white linen that he had made sure to fuck her on top of as he wasn’t willing to argue about them needing evidence that consummation took place. ‘I will be right back, then you are mine for the next week, because I do not plan on us leaving this bed for at least that long.’ He teased, kissing her nose and making her giggle as he pulled his trousers on and moved to the door, unbarring it and stepping outside while shutting the door behind him, unwilling to let anyone see his wife in her current state. At the door stood Maester Mellos along with his Grandsire, his mother and brother, and also Rhaenyra and Daemon. ‘I do not understand why this needed to be such a spectacle for so many of you but here.’ He shoved the sheet at the old man angrily. ‘Now, all of you will leave because if I find out anyone continued listening at the door I will slit you from balls to brains!’ The maester inspected the sheet before nodding to the Queen who genuinely looked sorry for her son.

‘I didn’t know you had it in you brother!’ Aegon laughed, Otto shoving him away quickly and dragging him down the hall before Aemond could move to cut him open as he wanted to, Daemon following along, clearly not caring about being there and only having done so as he loved his niece- to ensure Aemond was a gentleman.

‘Take care of your wife Aemond, I know you will be a good husband, better than your brother.’

‘Thank you mother-oh! We will be taking all of our meals in our chambers tomorrow-and for the foreseeable future. Please be sure a maid is sent to do that, my wife will need breaks to eat.’ Alicent didn’t look shocked at all, just nodding her head before she walked off.

‘Brother.’ Rhaenyra spoke, Aemond sighing before giving her his attention. ‘Take care of her. She is a gentle soul, if you hurt my sister I will make sure you do not live to see whatever children you give her.’ He rolled his eyes, not giving a fuck about his elder sisters threat.

‘If you think for a moment that I would harm her then you know nothing about our relationship at all-oh! Wait! You don’t…it took 9 years but I always knew that I would make her mine no matter what I had to do. I’m just thankful that father gave into my threat before you could give her away to that idiot Wolf in the North.’

‘W-what are you-‘

‘Of course, you don’t know! I made my mother aware of the fact that if you were successful in marrying off our sister that I would have mounted Vhagar and burned every inch of the Starks home, and every other home and stronghold that had snow covering it. She was never going to marry anyone else, that was decided quite a long time ago…its just that no one but I knew it.’ He explained, enjoying her shocked expression before opening the door to go back to his wife. ‘Oh! One more thing! You should make sure that you keep your eldest on a short leash, because if I find out-or Gods forbid catch him-peeping at my wife like he did under your watch, he will be locked in the Black cells until I decide to feed him to Vhagar. Your heir or not, father will not be able to argue with him dishonoring my wife and his favorite grandchild, and you know it…it was lovely to see you again sister.’ With that Aemond slammed the door in her face and turned back to his wife.

‘Is everything okay?’ Y/n asked, clearly nervous that the sheet wouldn’t be enough evidence and they would demand to watch this time.

‘Of course my Love, I will always ensure that it will be. Now, let us continue enjoying our marital bliss for as long as we can, hmm?’ Y/n smiled, dropping the blankets and revealing her naked chest to his eyes and he couldn’t help but imagine the breasts that he was in love with, swollen with milk to feed the boy that was growing in her womb. He was desperate to taste it himself, his cock growing hard in record time at the thought before he leapt into the bed beside her.

‘I want to stay here with you like this forever.’ She admitted, now sitting in his lap, his cock buried in her pussy as he enjoys worshipping her breasts with his mouth.

‘As you wish Sister…Always.’

Aemond T. Masterlist

[merakiui]

I was reading through your tags and you mentioned at some point the kazuscara roommates finding your onlyfans and I think I completely combusted—thus i present to you my brain rot of late: you attend the same school as them but you’re not actually friends, all you know about kazuha is that he’s the friendly regular at the cafe you work at, who makes polite conversation every now and then but otherwise is nothing of note. In reality he’s been stalking you for weeks ever since your first encounter, and is dead set on the idea that you’re this innocent, weak thing that needs to be protected (maybe he stepped in when you had a bad customer and your meek reply helped fester his delusions?). Scara, on the other hand, is only aware of your presence since you’re his favourite cam model that he recently found. (Since he’s a harbinger he’s probs loaded) Weeks of funnelling money towards you cause him to feel this unwarranted possessiveness, believing that since he’s been providing so much in your “relationship” that it’s time you reward him in turn. However, despite the unbridled interest they have toward you neither are aware of each other’s feelings for you— that is, until you happen to run into the both of them heading to your class. While both are known for maintaining their stoic masks, they’re friends for a reason— and instantly can tell the attraction their roommates have towards their own ��lover”. After kazuha finds your onlyfans he’s certain that you’ve been coerced and wants to save you, while scara thinks it’s time that he’s stopped letting other plebeians look at his possession—so, despite their initial reservations, come together to form the ideal plan. When you find yourself waking up groggy in a room you don’t recognize, all they can do is look on with glee whilst planning their next course of action with their new belonging. They’re friends after all, and good friends share though, don’t they?

This is v long srry lol you can ignore this ofc!!

AAAH, ANON!! YES!!! <3 I couldn’t resist writing more on this concept. orz They make for such a terrifying pair when they work together!

(cw: yandere, stalking, nsfw, implied kidnapping/drugging, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, delusional thoughts, savior complex, implied violence)

What if Kazuha and Scara were just acquainted with one another and actually became closer through their mutual obsession with you? Yes, they’re roommates and ought to get along because they’re living together but they haven’t exactly clicked yet. They talk every now and then and know little things about each other. Nothing too special. They don’t really hang out outside of their dorm either, what with their class schedules being vastly different. And Kazuha’s always out of the dorm doing who-knows-what. Most of his time is spent at a café, where he’ll write and read and stare at you while you work. On the other hand, Scara prefers to stay inside if he doesn’t have a good reason to go out. He likes his alone time. Although he has enjoyed going to the library every now and then to study.

So maybe they need to find some common ground. Maybe they need a push in the right direction before they get closer.

Kazuha likes to stare. Talking to you is great, but he worries he’ll say too much and then he’ll be a nuisance, or you might not want to talk to him at all since you’re working. But you always regard him with a warm smile, happy to scribble his name on the plastic cup because you remember him. Because you recognize his familiar face and soft, gentle eyes. He’s the one who saved you from that rude customer, after all, and he’s a polite regular. Why wouldn’t you know him? You might look like you can handle those types of situations, but what Kazuha saw that day was something entirely different. You were nervous—so soft-spoken and scared. He absolutely has to protect you from those kinds of people now, doesn’t he?

And he does exactly that. He’s your second pair of eyes—your valiant knight in shining armor—who sees and hears all. Sometimes he goes to the café with the intention to simply watch over you and make sure no one’s bothering you. He can recall one time when a customer was speaking rudely about you because her drink hadn’t been prepared in a ‘timely manner.’ In reality it’s impossible to make a drink within a few seconds, especially when you’re already preoccupied with making another customer’s drink. She must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed, or maybe she’s just a hateful person in general. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such fiery insults, though.

Her eyes just can’t see your perfection and therefore she does not deserve to see out of them.

Kazuha’s willing to wrestle with all of this darkness if it means you’ll stay safe, oblivious, and pure. You’re like a defenseless kitten, unable to protect yourself from the scary world. He writes about you a lot in his journal; you’re his muse—someone who constantly shows up in poems and short paragraphs where he tries to describe what your dream date might be or what type of wedding you’d prefer. Things get darker the deeper you delve into his writings, where you’ll find entries in great detail. Kazuha writes a lot and he doesn’t even mean to. He just has to get all of his thoughts on paper before they abandon him and he’s left with emptiness.

Everything you do is pure; you’re almost an equivalent to a holy being. Your smell is pure. Your body is pure. Your actions are pure. Your smile is pure. Even when you’re on the verge of crying from harsh customers or when you’re turning down a confession, you’re still pure. And Kazuha likes that about you because it’s special. There aren’t many people in his life who are completely pure. He’s been through a lot of rough things and has seen firsthand how impure people can be. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to protect purity itself.

He might have some impurities, but that doesn’t deter him from watching over you. As gentle and unassuming as he is, there are times when even he loses his composure. Not many are privy to these dark emotions of his. His smiles are sharp and venomous and his eyes fill with a gloom so dark it can swallow you whole. You’ll never see this side of him; he won’t allow it. Instead you’re treated to his sweet, calm side, where he feigns perfection in hopes of catching your interest.

As for Scara… He doesn’t really care about Kazuha in the beginning. He’s just someone he has to live with. It’s not a big deal and as long as he doesn’t try to make lots of pointless conversation everything will be okay. He prefers the peace and quiet, considering he’s acquainted with people who are far from peaceful and quiet. Scara’s relieved that Kazuha leaves the dorm so often because it gives him an opportunity to watch his favorite cam star’s most recent video. He’s your most loyal follower—someone who’s paid lots of money just to have access to the highest tier of rewards and such. He even got a private video where you addressed him and moaned out his name with lustful thoughts of him. Having lots of money comes in handy.

When he finds out that you go to the same school as him, he’s a little shocked. He didn’t expect you to be so close. You’re practically within touching distance. If only he knew your schedule. If only you were in one of his classes. It’s really annoying that he only knows your online presence and not who you might be in your personal life. The last thing he’s going to do is consult Childe, that popular athlete who knows literally everyone in the school for whatever reason. Surely he knows you. But he’ll die before he ever asks Childe for a favor.

Scara loves you out of every other cam model because you’re different. You’re not just trying to get fast cash. You’re genuine. You listen to your subscribers and their feedback. You do your best to improve and do even better streams than the previous ones. All of your hard work is overlooked by the other fools who watch your streams, but it isn’t overlooked by him. Scara appreciates your attention to detail and the way you’re able to hook him with your breathless voice alone. You’re very skilled at what you do, so it’s only fair you get paid for it.

But buying your services isn’t enough. It’s not a real relationship, but it certainly feels like it when he buys preferential treatment. Private shows, special requests, odd favors—you do it all because he pays for it. But this relationship isn’t going to be one-sided forever. You’ll have to pay him back in full eventually. Scara likes to think he has patience and that waiting is fine. It gives him more time to plan his next move—to figure out what he should do to finally have you all to himself. So that those private shows he watches through a screen can finally be real.

Scara finds the journal sitting innocently on Kazuha’s bed, its maroon cover and maple leaves pulling at his curiosity. He might not know everything about Kazuha, but he’d recognize this journal anywhere. His roommate almost always has it on his person. Scara wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with it. To say he’s curious would be absolutely correct. He can only wonder what Kazuha writes in that thing. Perhaps it’s just notes for a class. That’s what anyone would think, right?

Scara opens it and flips through the first few pages. They’re normal for the most part. Just a bunch of haikus and other useless scribbles. When he skips over some pages, he starts to find things that are far more interesting than poetry and doodles of cats. He finds the majority of the journal is comprised of information. More specifically, there are facts and other knowledge about you—the cam model he’s been obsessed with ever since he stumbled upon your onlyfans. He reads through as much of the journal as he can and instantly learns so much: your address, your roommate, your workplace, your friends’ names, names of any potential exes. The list goes on and on.

Scara doesn’t have anything against Kazuha. His first impression of him wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He thought he was a pushover at first. But now that he knows what this journal holds… Well, it sheds an entirely new light on his roommate.

Just days before Scara took a peek inside his journal, Kazuha discovers your secret online life. He snoops through Scara’s laptop when he steps out, having left it open and unlocked. He’s just trying to find what could have caught Scara’s interest, as he’s almost always glued to his laptop on specific days at specific times, with his headphones on and his gaze unyielding. He doesn’t intend to find the file of one of your private videos—something that was meant only for Scara’s eyes.

He clicks on the video out of interest. He’s not sure what he was expecting to see, but it definitely wasn’t this. Kazuha sits there and stares at the sight before him. You’re dressed in skimpy lingerie and you’re muttering the dirtiest things while coating your fingers in lube. And your hands are stroking a thick toy and you’re addressing Scara and you’re lining it up to your hole and— He shuts the laptop before it can get even more explicit than it already is. He’s so conflicted, fraught with a betrayal so strong it weighs his heart down.

Why would he have this sort of video on his laptop? Did you give it to him? Did he make you do this? Are you in danger? Are you still pure?

Kazuha can’t kill on campus. It’s way too risky and he’d be one of the first suspects if Scara’s body is found. Besides, it’s not like he has the full story. He doesn’t know whether or not Scara’s done something that’s worthy of death. You could just be in a tight spot. He knows how easily you give in when you’re under pressure. Maybe you’re just doing this because you feel like it’s the only thing you can do. Not to worry; Kazuha will save you before Scara can ruin your purity with his twisted fantasies.

They confront each other when the time feels right. Kazuha struggles to keep a smile plastered to his face for the sake of politeness, while Scara holds in his raging temper so that he can bear some semblance of cooperation. Neither of them is happy to hear that the other went through their stuff, but they force themselves to make up because a more pressing issue is at hand: their connection to you.

Kazuha says he’s your secret admirer. Scara says he’s in a relationship with you. There’s no way you’d ever date someone like Scara—Kazuha knows this for a fact. Yet he falters at the confidence in Scara’s tone. That can’t be the truth, right? Despite this, Kazuha still strikes up an offer: If they work together to get what they both want, they’ll be unstoppable. With Scara’s riches and his influence and Kazuha’s charisma and clever thinking, they can easily get their hands on you. Of course this means they’ll have to share, but it’s not a big deal when they’re already in so deep. They both know the other’s secret; now they’re swearing to keep it in the pursuit of having you all to themselves. And luckily Scara agrees to the deal, but that doesn’t give Kazuha a reason to lower his guard.

However despite how well they work together when it comes to planning the kidnapping and actually executing it, they both have their own reasons for wanting you. Scara wishes to make his relationship with you a reality—to toss aside the screen that once held him back and finally do all of the things he could only do in his dreams. Kazuha seeks to protect your fragile heart, lest you crumble under Scara’s intense way of doing things and cling to him for salvation. You can’t do those sorts of things with Scara; he won’t allow it. Your purity is meant for him and no one else.

But sharing is caring and some have to learn that the hard way. It definitely brings Kazuha and Scara closer together, even if neither of them will admit it. If they look past their desires, they can be friends. And soon enough they’ll have to accept this new friendship if they want to avoid any unnecessary complications.

However there are times when they’ll cooperate in order to do things with you. They’re a packaged deal you can’t get rid of.

[everyonesfavoritelesbowrites]

RATLD Headcanons pt. 4

Fears and insecurities

Raya and Namaari both have nightmares of the betrayal in Heart.

During those six years, Namaari can't remember a night where she didn't have a nightmare. Almost all of them of the betrayal.

Having to be careful, Raya learned to sleep very lightly. The smallest amount of noise will make her spring into action. So she didn't get into deep sleep often, but whenever she did she would get nightmares as well.

While Namaari's dreams were mostly focused on her betraying Raya and it going a bit too far. Raya's dream were of her Ba or Namaari going too far.

With more interactions with each other throughout the years came more dreams

Namaari would have dreams where in a fight one would kill the other. Raya would dream similarly, but a lot of them would focus around the Druun.

Raya has many dreams of the Druun getting her, (sometimes getting Namaari but she didn't understand why it got her all worked up).

Namaari would sometimes dream of Fang's famine 100% worse and watching everyone die while she lives in Luxury. (Although she also grew up with not enough food, leaving her a malnourished child)

After the event in Spine, Namaari consistently dreams that she kills Raya instead of Sisu intervening.

She also had dreams of killing Sisu and Sisu not coming back or she would come back and blame her\revenge.

Raya dreams of the fight in Fang's throne room where instead she didn't hesitate and kills Namaari.

Raya also has a hard time sleeping in an actual bed once everything is back to "normal". She's so use to sleeping in trees or caves or against TukTuk that it's accutally too soft.

Raya also wakes up constantly, worried she'll be Druun food or just hearing the smallest noise.

One day she just can't take it anymore and goes for a walk, where she runs into Namaari who looks like she's having a panic attack.

"What are you doing out here, princess Undercut- woah, are you okay?"

They end up telling the other about their dreams and how the beds are too soft for Raya and somehow they end up in the same bed having the best sleep they have ever had.

If they are together it just becomes an unspoken routine where they will sleep together to have a peaceful nights sleep.

They almost always end up in each other's arms but they don't talk about that

Chief Virana and Chief Benja thinking they are sleeping together, like sleeping sleeping together and are surprised when they find out they aren't even dating yet

They wake up when the other has a nightmare and comfort them.

"You're okay."

"Just breath."

"I'm still alive, see? You didn't have the guts to actually kill me."

"Look at me."

"Do you need to go for a walk?"

"We can talk to Sisu if you want."

Raya wonders why Namaari's room is so... empty so she tries to ask her in a way where she can just play it off as a joke if Namaari gets uncomfortable

But Namaari tells her

Namaari tries to not get sentimental to any objects because she's afraid she'll lose them and the events that happened after giving her Sisu necklace to Raya haunt her.

She keeps any sentimental items she gets stored safely away so she won't lose them. It's mostly drawings kids make her or things Raya leaves behind

She also feels guilty to have such an extravagant room, to live in such luxury, when her people have a major homelessness problem. This goes side by side with her food insecurities, although she was pretty malnourished as a child.

She also thinks she deserves to be lonely, not that she already does did feel lonely, but making her room bare helps give her that feeling that she doesn't deserve anything. She thinks this is fair considering her past.

Raya is understanding but also is loosing her mind over Namaari being so hard on herself.

Raya tries to sneak some things into Namaari's room. It first disappears quickly, Namaari tucking them away for safe keeping but after a while, she tries to just let them stay.

She worries constantly, ending up just staring at whatever Raya brought in this time. Perhaps if she engraves it into her memory, she won't worry if she loses it.

It takes a while, but Namaari eventually gets to the point where she won't feel sick not putting things away. She can just let it be with only a few thoughts of worry.

Raya becoming comfortable enough to sleep through the smallest of sounds, but she's never going to not wake up to sounds, it's just too engraved into her.

Namaari smiling when Raya doesn't wake up from a small bird outside the window.

A storm comes around one night in Heart when Namaari is visiting. Raya wakes up from a loud boom of thunder and finds Namaari literally shaking.

Namaari is scared of Thunderstorms, or more specifically loud noises send her into panic.

She has trained herself to not panic when there's a single or just a few loud noise/s, but if it's consistent she just can't handle it.

Raya, unable to sleep anyway, comforts Namaari and tries to distract her.

"We could spar."

"I can ask Sisu if her brother can make it stop."

"Tell me about the things you learned about Dragons as a kid."

"Remember when [moment]?"

"When I was 15, I [tells crazy story]."

"Let's go get [Serlot name], I bet she'd love to cuddle!"

"What do you think makes the noise of thunder?"

"Hey, I thought you weren't scared of anything, dep la. How can I make you flinch like that?"

"I wish I was the one making you shake like that." "What?" "Nothing! Tell me about your cat!"

"Under the blankets, Undercut."

"Shut up thunder!"

Namaari not seeing Raya eat any food when she comes to Fang and asking who made a dish when she's in Heart.

Sisu mentions something about poison and it just clicks.

Namaari hands Raya a dish in Fang, taking her own bite right in front of her first. "Just checking for poison."

After a few times of doing this, Raya ends up confessing to being posioned when she was 13. Namaari understands and keeps tasting food for her and even starts cooking for them right in front of her.*

"Don't forget to check for poison." "Of course, dep la."

"I didn't take you for a cook, let alone a good one." "It's better than your Jackfruit jerky, that's for sure."

Namaari admits to refusing to eat meals given to her unless she pays, otherwise she has to make it herself.*

Raya telling her that she paid for foods in Heart for Namaari, even if it's a slight lie. She's the princess, she kinda gets whatever she wants.*

Namaari paying Boun after they watch him cook for them

Raya gets separation anxiety, worrying that her Ba turned to stone again although it's not posible. She even worries for Namaari but she won't admit to that

Namaari reminds her that her Ba is fine and it helps

Her Ba also comforting her about it ofc

"If anyone will turn to stone, it'll probably be me not your Ba." this doesn't help but she won't tell Namaari she has dreamt of her being stone as well

Namaari accidentally hurting Raya during a Spar and she like breaks. She refuses to talk to her and avoids her because she feels horrible and it reminds her of Spine and Fang's Throne room.

Raya ends up cornering her and is afraid she did something wrong but Namaari admits that she's beating herself up for hurting her and Raya's heart swells and breaks at the same time.

"I've done worse to myself."

"It's literally nothing."

"It won't even scar."

Raya also hates to hurt Namaari.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry! Here, get me so it's fair!"

"I didn't mean to, I swear."

"If it does scar, it'll look sexy..." "What?" "I mean awesome, it'll look awesome. You're not sexy at all."

Raya notices Namaari acting strange around Sisu and asks about it. Namaari explains how whenever she looks at Sisu or even hears her or someone mentions her, the memory of shooting her replays in her head. She explains how she has nightmares about it and hates herself for it.

Raya comforts her by explaining how it wasn't her fault, or at least not entirely. Raya admits how she should have trusted Sisu.

"It's all in the past, we can't do anything about it, Namaari."

"I feel like I have to make it up to her... to everyone." "You literally saved the world but go all out I guess."

Raya stages an "intervention" for Namaari, bringing Sisu to talk to her so they both can make it better for Namaari.

"Don't you hate me?" "No! Why would I!?"

"I don't hold it against you, Namaari."

"What can I do to make it up to you?" "You don't have to do anything! You already saved the world!"

"Well... You could hang out with me more often."

Afterwords, the tension is much better but it takes a bit longer for Namaari to really open up with Sisu.

Namaari also ends up taking with Chief Benja about trying to take the gem. He's too understanding.

"I understand if you despise me, Chief Benja." "I don't."

"If I was in your position, I would have probably done the same to be honest..."

"If I had known your nation was in famine..."

"I don't blame you, it would have happened either way. It was just simply a matter of who and when."

Namaari only feeling intimidated by three people. Her mother, Chief Benja, and Sisu. Maybe Raya when they were fighting but not anymore.

Raya having issues letting people in. Mostly on instinct.

She gets defensive immediately.

"Why do you [add something here]?" "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy Benturi." *Silence* "I'm sorry, [explains]."

"Dewdrop, what have you been up to?" "None of your business- fuck, i'm sorry, Ba. I was sparring with Namaari."

"Are you okay?" "Who cares?" "...... I do?" "Right, sorry, I'm good."

"Where did you get that scar?" "Minding my own fucking business- I mean, I tripped on a rock accutally." *Namaari still processing*

Raya eventually gives in but it takes a while and a lot of comfort from Namaari and sisu but whatever

*I elaborated on this before

[touchmycoat]

qijiu bingqiu (bingliushen??) fix-it fic planning blabber

so i think i gotta keep it tight on SJ’s POV. Right before his death, he makes a deal with Xin Mo (who’s kind of a lone operator bc LBH too has to fight its power) to create this alternate timeline in exchange for his cultivation. Xin Mo can open up new dimensions no problem, and with SJ’s cultivation, it even manages to rewind the timeline. That’s not enough though—Xin Mo’s goal is only consumption, so it takes the deal but reveals there’s nothing that will actually change. The price SJ paid only opened the door.

But that’s fine, ‘cause SJ saw it coming. He also strikes another deal, this time with Death itself? Some sort of large cosmic force. The only thing he wants changed is Qi-ge’s death, and in exchange...the universe takes him. SJ will not get to exist in that second universe. SJ takes the deal.

And that’s the start of canon. SJ-as-SQQ can no longer exist. Instead, SY-as-SQQ is brought in. In order to stay cohered though, YQY’s memories and personality get a little glitched—he is physically incapable of recognizing all the ways SQQ is now not SJ. That’s why, despite SY-as-SQQ clearly being OOC, YQY never seems to see it.

Canon happens, now we’re in the post-canon world where bingqiu are married and settling down, but SQQ still kicks it with his buddies LQG and YQY every now and then. YQY still firmly believes SQQ is SJ, to SY’s increasing consternation. Is it just delusions and wishful thinking? The more YQY treats him as SJ though, the worse SY feels—he shouldn’t be stealing all this affection that doesn’t belong to him.

It all comes to head when SQQ overhears public opinion on YQY, how he’s perfect in everything but his crazy devotion to SQQ. SY thinks enough is enough. He can’t bring SJ back but he sure can tell YQY that his Xiao Jiu is dead, right? The System warns him he’ll be punished but that’s fine, it’s just not fair, SQQ can take another little mental horror trip down to BinggeLand if it means YQY can have some closure.

Except that’s not what happens. He gets YQY in private and says, “no, you don’t understand, Shen Jiu is dead.” He sees the recognition in YQY’s eyes, but he also sees the moment that recognition gets wiped. The sad smile that had fallen off of YQY’s face returns, eerily happy, as YQY says, “my apologies, Qingqiu-shidi, I must have spaced out just now, what did you say?”

Right before the System kicks him into another punishment phase, SY tries again: “Shen Jiu is dead!” He sees the recognition disappear once again from YQY’s eyes.

Inside the punishment world, Bingge has him again. “I’ve been searching for an answer to why the sniveling pathetic version of me gets you as his Shizun, and I think I figured it out.” For a moment, SY’s horrified by the possibility that Bingge has figured out his transmigrator status—if his punishment figures it out, would he be trapped inside the punishment forever? But instead, Bingge says, “Liu Qingge is still alive, meaning Shizun didn’t kill him in the spirit caves. Did his survival render such a dramatic change?” SQQ”s like “yup, yup that’s definitely it. We’re such good friends, he really changed my outlook on life, so I treated you better, mhm.”

“Shizun’s very clever then to save his own life this way. Xin Mo’s already told me about your little bargain.”

That’s how SY learns that SJ had made a deal. Holy shit, he’d thought it was just random phenomenon this whole time, but the original goods had made it all possible? He didn’t know whether to thank SJ or curse him.

But that can’t be the whole story—Xin Mo opened up a timeline, that doesn’t explain why SY is here. Bingge doesn’t know this part, but it sure feels like SJ made a second deal, paying with his life.

What would motivate the original goods to do all this? Sacrifice his hard-won cultivation and his entire existence in this last-ditch effort?

The memory of YQY’s glitching came to mind.

Holy shit. SY owns the two of them more than he’d ever thought.

After the punishment, SY goes back home. He’s with Binghe, and LBH can tell there’s something troubling him.

“Binghe, there’s something this husband wants to do, and I need your help to do it.”

“Shizun, anything.”

“...But there’s a risk it might hurt you. There’s a risk it might ruin everything. It might be straight-forward, but it also might not be. It’s safer for all of us—but especially you, Binghe—if I just let things be.”

“But it’s not something that Shizun can just let be, is it? Otherwise Shizun wouldn’t have said anything. Binghe is honored to help. Anything to ease Shizun’s mind.”

“...I promised I wouldn’t let you come to harm again, and I meant that. Whatever happens, remember that I am your husband, this is my call, and you must do whatever you need to do to protect yourself, okay? Swear to me, Binghe.”

SQQ begins figuring out how to use Xin Mo to go fetch SJ from the other timeline. He figures that if Bingge could exist in this dimension without destroying the space-time continuum, the same ought to be true for SJ. Only trouble is, he can only go get SJ after SJ’s made the deals, because otherwise it’s a paradox, and he wouldn’t exist.

So SQQ brings home limbless, post-torture!SJ. That’s where the fic starts.

By all accounts, the deals are squared: SJ no longer has cultivation and SJ died in SY’s dimension, so SY successfully exists. SJ and SY can exist in the same space totally fine, and SJ begins healing.

(Currently, the fic is completely from SJ’s POV, and very much about coming to terms with being saved and what the hell is going on in this better world.)

The trouble is, SY doesn’t know what’s going to happen when SJ meets YQY again. SJ very thoroughly declines the offer to go see YQY because part of SJ still believes this whole thing is a trick, and if he goes to see YQY he’ll ruin his end of the bargain and YQY will die again. For SY’s part, he’s afraid of SJ going to see YQY too for similar but opposite reasons—if SJ going to see YQY ruins SJ’s end of the bargain, then wouldn’t that mean SY can no longer exist? Would SY just disappear from this universe?

So we get ragtag group therapy fun times. SJ thinks this is probably all an illusion Xin Mo is tricking him with, so treats everything with scorn but also existential apathy. This actually works to his benefit because he’s not clinging to things as hard, and it’s easier for him to admit, for example, that he was definitely in the wrong for abusing LBH, and yeah he was being a spiteful bitch when he did not need to be.

SY tries to keep LBH away from SJ mostly, because c’mon, he’s not about to make his darling husband face his childhood abuser. He does explain the situation to LBH though, in the same terms that Bingge had (mis)understood it lmfao—that the act of saving LQG’s life had prompted an entire 180 on his personality so he came out of the spirit caves a better man. LBH’s jealous as fuck of course, but damn if that doesn’t explain some things. Given the opportunity to see his old and new Shizun side-by-side, LBH takes it, and really gets a moment to see how horribly he’s been treated by SQQ.

So it actually prompts some therapy between SY and LBH too. LBH used to figure that getting pushed into the Abyss was squared by SQQ sacrificing himself to save him. But ofc it turned out SQQ came back and kept on, in his perspective, trying to get away from him. Trying to leave him behind. SQQ’s tried to treat his abandonment issues by going “okay sorry about that I’ll never leave you behind again” but he’s never really explained it.

SJ’s presence gives Binghe the ability to ask the question again and gives SY an answer: shame and cowardice. They’re able to put SJ’s mistreatment of Binghe right in front of them and SY-as-SQQ gets to explain how much it hurt to look back on that bit of their past, but also how much he feared LBH's retaliation. LBH is a little hurt, but also he remembers how he’d raped SQQ under Xin Mo’s control and, looking at what’s left of SJ now, he sees his own darkest possibilities. He really did destroy the man he loves now in another timeline. That helps him contextualize SY’s fears and why SY chose to push him off the cliff.

LQG crashlands into the middle of this whole party as is his wont. He gets a little fix-it too maybe. SY very staunchly repeats the reason for his personality swap—saving LQG in that cave made him a Better Person™. Meeting the original goods again, LQG is forced to believe it. Or like, it doesn’t really matter to him either way, but now he really does see pre-cave SQQ and post-cave SQQ as two completely different people.

SJ though, has to swallow this really weird pill. He remembers trying to save LQG inside the cave but failing, and then getting blamed for LQG’s death. If he’d succeeded, he and LQG would’ve become...this close?? A life debt between them would’ve changed his outlook on life so much???

Well whatever. Now that he’s put down all his old posturing, he more readily gives his reasons for why LQG gets on his nerves so much: the insufferable confidence (arrogant prick), the skills to back it up (privileged bastard), and a flawless cultivator family with all the money and the training and the pedigree. (Meanwhile SY’s like “oh shit that’s me too hahahahah awkward, good thing he still thinks i’m him so he doesn’t just murder me immediately.)

LQG’s a little weirded out too. SY-as-SQQ is his favorite person in the world, so it’s hard to get angry at SJ-as-SQQ since they’re “the same person.” He’s more willing to talk all this out with SJ and brings up all their old beef on his side too: high-handed snootiness coupled with underhanded dick moves, also the whole sleeping-with-prostitutes thing hurting Cang Qiong’s reputation. Ofc they’re snapping at each other this whole time. “There’s no reason for you to do all that!”

SY intervenes if needed. “Actually there is.” Considering the fact that SJ gets indicted for so many things that actually turn out to be not his fault, SY figures he’ll just get it out there. “Remember Qiu Haitang’s accusations against me? I grew up a slave in that household. I grew up believing it was kill or be killed—it doesn’t make sabotaging others right, but...that’s why the Spirit Caves made such an impression on me. I learned it wasn’t just kill or be killed, I can also save people. It opened my eyes to everything I already had, and everything I should be grateful for.”

This is for both LQG and SJ. And it works, to some degree. SJ knows he managed to claw to the top of privilege, but he still felt horribly insecure there. That’s because, he realizes, he never got the thing that would actually grant him security. It's not power or money or reputation—it’s Qi-ge. Holy hell he misses Qi-ge. In anger and betrayal, he’d pushed YQY continuously out of his life, but when faced with certain death the only regret he actually had was bringing Qi-ge down with him. YQY was meant to have survived, and in this world, he did.

So now, after all that, SJ really, really wants to go see his Qi-ge. It’s nice to have survived (and gotten part of his power back—at the very beginning, SY gives one of SQQ’s eyes to SJ as a bit of his golden core in order to save SJ’s life), but it’s so damn hard to live on in this world knowing YQY is only so far away, still very deeply attached to Xiao Jiu.

They try to Cyrano it at first. SY-as-SQQ goes to YQY with SJ’s voice in his ear, telling SY how to treat YQY as him. YQY is so fucking touched and hopeful, and SY is damn uncomfortable. He goes running back to SJ and says it’s not going to work—it’s not going to work because he’s no longer Qi-ge’s Xiao Jiu. He’s Luo Binghe’s husband, okay? He can’t go back to YQY as SJ.

SJ’s fucking furious at first (what kind of shitty variation of himself saves LQG’s life and then falls out of love with Qi-ge???? bitch?????) but what can he do? LQG tells them YQY’s on his way here and SJ hides for now. They still don’t know what will happen if SJ meets YQY, so SY continues to front as SJ for now.

But during this conversation, something changes. Maybe YQY says something, but SJ realizes he’s actually a little willing to take this chance. If Qi-ge does disappear—easy, he’d just kill himself right after. He’d already experienced Qi-ge’s death twice before, and at least this time, he can follow, knowing he’s at least reconciled with Qi-ge through SY.

And if he disappears on his own, then at least he knows there’s a world in which Qi-ge does not die horribly. That’s enough for him.

That, however, leaves the very last possibility—that SY will disappear. At this point both LQG and LBH have figured this out, and are very, very reluctant to let this be the scenario. They don’t see it as two people, they see it as their version of SQQ vs. YQY’s version of SQQ.

So there’s a little tension, but in the end, SY gets the final choice. As soon as he learns SJ is willing to go see YQY, he chooses that path. He simply owes qijiu too much to deny them the possibility of reconciliation. So despite knowing he might disappear from Binghe and LQG’s life, he makes it happen.

(They should get a very painful goodbye scene.)

SY goes out to explain things. “Zhangmen-shixiong may have noticed my change since my qi deviation and the spirit caves.” “I’m happy Xiao Jiu has a brighter outlook on life.” “Yes, but I think Qi-ge, of all people, might actually prefer how I was before, right?” “If Xiao Jiu’s happy, I’m happy.” “Yes, but Shen Jiu wants you. Is that alright?” “—of course. I want Xiao Jiu too—”

SJ comes out. Everyone holds their breath.

Scene cut.

It’s said that Cang Qiong’s Sect Leader Yue Qingyuan disappeared suddenly one afternoon...

But jk, YQY just ran away with SJ, they’re recuperating in the mountains and everybody’s fine and it’s a happy ending.

[boogiewrites]

Never Break the Chain Pt. 2

Part 2 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary:  Javier and Esme's first time seeing each other in almost twenty years. A photograph leads to an obsessive hunt for the woman he thought was dead. They both find they got where they wanted. But is it what they want now?

Warnings/Tags: Tension. Big reunited kiss. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Time passes, as it always has and always will. It stopped for no man, not even Javier. Seeing his first love fade into nothing had left him a different man. Walls came up, barriers were built that his enemies would even be impressed by. She’d done him a favor, snapping him out of the young man’s dream, but he felt he had nothing left but trying to help once she was gone. So he threw himself into his work.

Sure there were other women. He thought he loved some, but would always leave them. He always hurt them and that wasn’t his intention precisely but they would thank him years later. He was what they would refer to in close company as “a dodged bullet”. He’d been called far worse.

He despised his cliche reactions to his trauma sometimes. Drinking, smoking, being a general pain in the ass, renowned and proud asshole was easier. Burying yourself in prostitutes and let them take away the thoughts for a little while was the easiest. He would fantasize he could help them, even save some of them. He surely wasn’t getting his hero complex stroked when it came to his work. He had a soft spot for women, he had learned the hard way the shit deal they’d landed when they were born. He couldn’t do much...but he could try to help. So he did. Loss after loss he kept trying. This was that bit of good Esme had always believed in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would have it so he made the best of it while he could.

The night before was nothing knew, an old habit at this point for him. He went out and got a woman, he’d pour every bit of good in him into her, convincing himself he still had it. He’d make them feel good, listen to them, things that were in short supply in their lives from men. He could be that good guy exception, if only for a short while. It felt nice to not be looked at with disgust or fear. The slivers of affection kept him going after dark. He’d leave them breathless, moans turning to laughs as they dressed, joking they might not make him pay. But they always took the money. And he offered it with no judgment, pulling his jeans on and halfway through a highball glass as his lean outstretched arm offer up their compensation for making him feel something good and push out the bad thoughts for a short while. He could be making worse decisions.

He rubs his temple, suppressing a groan as he slid his way into the uncomfortable chair at the beaten-up metal table. The chatter of his coworkers all making their way into the room was grating but nothing he couldn’t ignore. Morning debriefing, something he gave a shit about. Well, work was the one thing he gave a shit about right now, hyper-focused on the clock and trying to drown out the obsession off the clock. It was a dynamic that he was still trying to perfect. He downs the hot black coffee in his hand and nods at the secretary just outside the doorway, “Get me another, sugar. No sugar.” he winks and sends her off. She side-eyed him and went on her way, that was just Pena to her, horny but harmless. He cracks his back, a grunt before landing his elbows on the table to focus, the overblown commander coming in with a handful of photos, spreading them on the table as they talked about what they always did, the cartel.

Pena tries to approach everything individually, but there was only so much range these guys had, and not seeing them all as one giant collection of piss ants with assault rifles was something getting harder and harder to do. So as new and old names were said, he watched the board fill out, the line attaching known connections and new ones. There had been a new wave of intel, something Pena and his partner Murphy were used to being the ones doing, but he wouldn’t complain if someone else finally wanted to sack up and their fucking job like they were supposed to.

“So we have our old friends,” a slap of photos to the board. “Then there’s a new round of boys coming in.” he taps the newest addition to the board. “Seems we’re getting inbred with the other families, the jewel smugglers, the miners...seems we’re trying to venture out and expand our already impressive portfolio.” he snorts.

“They can never just be fucking satisfied with their millions.” someone groans and complains.

“It’s a good chance try to take them down too.” Murphy shrugs.

“Eyes on the prize, kiss ass,” Pena says quietly, accepting his coffee without a second glance. “Do we know these women?” he asks with a nod in the direction.

“Typical.” Murphy rolls his eyes.

“No. Our assumption is prostitutes. Nothing new there.” the commander goes on, but he quickly becomes background noise as Pena stands and moves toward the board. He stood, hips jutted forward, eyes scanning, hand over his mouth in thought. Once he saw the new pictures he hadn’t heard another word the men had said. “PENA!” barked his way grabs his attention as he casually shifts his attention.

“Mmmph. Yeah.” he mutters, eyes moving back to the board.

“I was informing you, you’d be doing street intel on these newcomers.”

“Yeah,” he says disinterested, thumbing his lip before placing his hands on his hips. “Do we have these photos in color?”

The question catches the room off guard. “Why?” he’s met with annoyed opposition.

“This woman…” he taps the photo of a woman with a sly smile on the arm of a very powerful man. Dark waves teased and a heart-shaped face buried in a fur coat collar worth more than he made in a year. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen her before…”

“They’re whores Javi, of course, you have.” Murphy leads the room in a wave of amused hums and chuckles.

“No I’m serious,” he says with no inflection, catching his partner’s attention. “Do we have a location on them if there’s no color?”

“Why’s color important?”

He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tense and eyes blinking, baffled at what he was allowing himself to think. “Her eyes… were green.” MUrphy readjusts himself in his seat, watching Pena’s eyes carefully. He could swear they looked sad.

“What information we’ve got is here.” the commander points at the table with its thick manilla envelopes.

Javier nods with no spoken response, staying in place until the room is empty except for a hesitant Murphy who approaches him. “Who is she?” he asks quietly.

He shakes his head in response. “It can’t be her,” there’s a heavy pause, “But it...fuck it looks like her…” his voice trails off and Murphy is left with more questions.

“Well, are you gonna answer me or just write poetry about her Javi?”

“She’s…” he sighs and sucks his teeth. “She’s supposed to be dead.”

“Did you-?”

“No… no… nothing like that.” his voice still quiet. “I knew her… fuck...over a decade ago now.”

“So we can add hunting ghosts to our agenda now too. Great.” Murphy takes it lightly and presses his lips together. He stares at Javi, his eyes dark and focused. He was left with more questions than answers. His money was still on it being a hooker. It’s not as if Pena had even talked about Esme since the investigation when he was young. His partner may have his back in life or death situations, and they may have been close, but no one knew about her. Pena had hoped to keep it that way. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped it wasn’t her. Because if it was… well he didn’t know what he’d do.

---------------------------------------------------

Esme didn’t know it but with every minute that passed, she was being proven right about her belief in her first love, that if he knew she was alive, that he would find her.

Esme had ran, a bug out bag down the river and no trace left behind. She made her way south over the years, learning her craft and making friends in the right places. She’d started with rich men, especially rich white men trying to make a living off exploiting her fellow man in Mexico. It had been almost too easy. They thought nothing of her and wore her as if she were a watch; on their arm and shiny and proof of their wealth. She would gain access, gather intel and then sweep in and take the goods and ghost out.

Esme had been legally declared dead and was now living as Estelle. She had so many names over the years but her current incarnation was Estelle. And she was a star. She’d become what she wanted, she was rich and self-reliant. She needed no one and had her fun as she craved it. There were men and women and drugs and jewels and for so long it had been a pleasant hazy dream. But the novelty of it wore off, she grew bored,  a witness to her hypocrisy, growing soft and lazy with her indulgence. When she emerged from her haze and saw the state of the world around her she knew things had changed. Narcos now ruled the world. The government bowed to them, the poor worshipped them. She saw they were the future, the new leaders. And for her, that meant that’s where she had to be.

She found herself once again sharp and full of adrenaline. Her new role took real savvy and cunning. Otherwise, she’d end up dead for real. She cozied up, working for Narcos to steal for them. It wasn’t hard in skill, but it was in the amount of sexist shit she had to deal with. She’d killed men for laying hands on her, and worse. She’d pulled knives and guns and made frown men piss themselves as she threatened them with words they’d never heard women utter up to that point. Most of the leaders would laugh until they cried after the fact, seeing a woman act in such away. She entertained them. They underestimated her, saw her as some novelty pet that fetched things and entertained them. She could handle that. As long as she got paid.

Following the groups, making her way around it made sense she found herself in Columbia. She knew it was dangerous, but she was addicted to it. It filled the void of sex and drugs for her for the most part, although she did partake among her peers from time to time. She thought it made her admirable, independent, and a shining example of what a woman could be if she had the nerve to do it. She was, to a degree, but she was also wrong. She lacked the softness in her life anyone, not just a woman needed. A void where no love or trust or intimacy was in her life she filled with material things and lists of her accomplishments. if she kept busy and looking ahead she wouldn’t be still king enough to face her demons.

Except she was about to come face to face with her biggest one.

—

As was his way, Javier had become a bit obsessed. He had to know if this woman was Esme. He’d been tracking her and was able to have DEA level observation to do it. It was a personal mission he’d been able to spin to look like a cartel one. There was a connection, she was seen with them, but little was known outside of that. After he’d put the word out for the beautiful woman with green eyes it hadn't taken long before someone scorned by her leaked information on her next job. The informant knew what his boss wanted to be stolen and when she’d be there. Normally no agent or cop would care to pay attention to her, or some jewels being stolen,  she was just some woman to them. But serendipitous timing made sure she became THE woman for one of them.

She practically waltzed into the store. She scaled a fence, a wall and came through a window but for her, that was practically begging her to steal from them. The rooms were dark, silent except for the sounds of her feet as she made her way into the back, unseen and unbothered. It wasn’t until she’d stopped to admire her score before snatching it they the clicking of a gun behind her caught her attention.

He’d waited in the shadows, and none too patiently. With the aim set to intimidate, not kill, he Easter no more time. “Who are you?” It came out as an order.

Her head snapped up, back still to the faceless voice she felt was all too familiar. She blinks, the former goal now removed and replaced with a flood of emotion. She remains silent, her turn to be shocked like he was when he saw her face in the photos.

“Turn around.” Another order. The voice was deeper, darker now but still made her feel the same way.

She turns, and painfully slow. She doesn’t meet his intense gaze immediately, reading his body language first and calming her racing mind. There’s no way it was him.

There’s no way it’s her, his mind reassures him. But as soon as her eyes raise to meet his his stomach drops. He was right.

“Javi?” It was almost a whisper, for the first time in she couldn’t remember when she didn’t hide her emotions in her face.

The gun falls first, his sense falling to the wayside as it slipped into its place in the back waist of his jeans. His frame was broader, still lean moves towards her with an earned confidence now. He doesn’t speak, staring at her as if she might not be real. She gives him his time. He’d earned it. “It really is you.” It was his turn to let the veil fall, dark eyes shining in the low, cool light.

She nods. “Javi I can explain.” She begins, prepared to apologize and ask forgiveness before asking him why the hell he was there at all. They were a long way from home.

“You’re alive.” A rather obvious statement that made her smile. It was all he could handle.

“I can explai-“ a quick burst of words before they’re cut off by his mouth landing against hers. She hadn’t expected this. She was prepared for many things last but not this, at least not for him to be kissing her. “Javi my-“ she tries to get out but his hands are already on her cheeks, hot and damp and certain. She lets her concern fade for a moment, it would all be fine. She gives in to it, lets him take the lead, and pull her against him roughly. The anger and hurt coming through in his grip on her back and face as they kissed breathlessly. He stole her focus without trying, there was the signature huff from his nose, the nuzzle into her between separating to catch his breath but he felt different. But so did she.

Where they once held differences in certainty they now held the opposite. He kissed her like he just found out his first love was alive after decades of vices to cover the loss. Because he had. Every woman and experience he’d had between her and now, every skill and thus gained confidence was clear and apparent. This was not a boy handling a girl. He was a man handling his woman.

And there she was, blindsided and touch starved, passion and intimacy starved being devoured by the only man she’d ever truly loved. The only man she’d ever let in and see her for what she was. The only man that knew Esmeralda. It was a raw and painful ache that emanated from her chest as she clutched her hand around his wrist and the other gripped his shirt in her hand. She gave in because she knew it wouldn’t last long, and after it was over she’d miss it.

With eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed to hers, his statuesque nose gently rubbing against hers he exhales hot against her face. “Esme…” he pulls back and holds her face, demanding her focus.

“It’s been so very long since someone’s called me that.” she sighs and puts her hands on his forearms.

“Since I called you that?”

She nods and smiles, face pressed into his hand.

“Maybe it’s about time people called you that again.” he pauses and looks her over with a hard brow, he couldn't hide his simmering anger underneath the confusion, relief, and affection. “Where the fuck have you been?” She sighs in response. “Why the hell are you HERE?”

“Same as you. Work.”

“Why are you with those men? Don’t you know who they are? What they do?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Why Esme?” his eyes water and his hands squeeze her face a bit too tightly before a wave of dizziness hit him.

“Same reason now as then,” she whispers, his grip loosening and not hearing her response, she slicks his dark hair back as his eyes start to roll around in their sockets. “You're fine, Javi. Seems you fell for my defense mechanism.” she smiles and he looks at her, starting to slump. “To be fair I didn’t know to expect you. You’ll wake up soon enough. It’s only temporary.” she wipes the culprit of the sudden wave of forced unconsciousness he was going through, her lipstick off his mouth. He was out quickly, and she spent some long moments exploring the now aged face of her once wide-eyed companion. “You are even more handsome than I thought you’d be.” she coos and kisses him after dragging him into a chair and pushing it into a corner so he wouldn’t fall. “It now inevitable we’ll meet again. My old hound dog.” She chuckles, a kiss to take in the scent of his hair before she parted ways. “See you later, mi amor.”

-----------

Peña awoke to a boot knocking against his knee and an odd headache. It was pitch black outside by now, people on the streets outside none the wiser to the life-altering experience he’d just had.

“Are we blacking out in stores now?” Murphy snarks and shakes his head, leaning against a door frame.

“That’s not...I’m not…” Javier shakes his head, rubbing and tapping at the pulse in his skull.

“Then what the hell is it?” He can hear the judgment in his partner's voice.

“If I told you you would think I was crazy.” he groans and sits up with his back straight in the chair, one cocked brow looking over to the man staring him down.

“And I don’t now?”

Peña huffs out a laugh. That was a fair assessment. He’d think the same thing. He looked across the room, the glass case he’d found her standing in front of now empty. “She took the jewels.” he switches the subject, an arm raised lazily and collapsing against his lap after.

“Were they made of cocaine? Why do we give a shit?”

“It’s not the jewels that are important. It’s the woman that did it.”

“A woman? Huh. That’s something you don’t see every day. That is… a little bit crazy I guess.”

“That’s not what’s crazy.”

“Am I gonna have to fuckin’ waterboard you man, just tell me.” he groans.

“That woman I told you about... that stole those... she's been declared legally dead for almost twenty years.” he finally says with a defensive tone and a face that said don’t fucking try me to the man still assessing his sanity with no attempt at hiding his negative prognosis.

“Oh.” Murphy contemplates looking away to the empty case. “That... yeah okay that is crazy.”

@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Seventeen

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: mentions of sex (but not explicit at all), teasing Word Count: 3.1k Also on AO3

Masterlist

Summary: Cara figures out what happened between Aili and Mando in no time and starts teasing but it backfires a little on her. They make it to Arvala-7 without anymore trouble from little green children and Mando is reintroduced to someone he left behind when he first rescued Little Green. 

Cara couldn’t stop herself from staring, trying to figure out what exactly had changed since the last time she had seen Aili and Mando. They were all down in the cargo hold again, Aili with the kid in her arms to keep him out of trouble. She watched the way Aili slowly rocked the kid to sleep which was normal before her eyes wandered over to where Mando was.

If she were anyone else, she probably wouldn’t have noticed anything out of place. Maybe she wouldn’t have noticed the way Mando’s helmet was slightly tilted towards Aili and the kid so he could watch them. Or she wouldn’t have noticed the way Aili kept glancing at Mando with only half the amount of annoyance in her eyes as she had back on Sorgan. That was probably the thing that had really given it away for her. 

“Oh, I see now,” Cara suddenly laughed loudly. It didn’t take a genius, just someone that had spent weeks around them to notice the difference between the way they acted around each other. It wasn’t even anything obvious and she doubted either of them noticed. 

“What?” Aili asked, raising an eyebrow at the laughing woman. Mando stayed quiet, simply tilting his helmet to the other side wondering what Cara was talking about.

“You two. You two finally fu-”

“I’d suggest you don’t finish that sentence. Besides I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Aili placed Little Green onto the cot and shut the hatch. They still had no idea just how much he understood and she wasn’t about to have this conversation when he could overhear it. 

“Uh-huh, sure you don’t. Just let me know what parts of the ship to avoid touching.” Cara didn’t want to accidentally touch anything that had seen any action between the two people she called friends. She looked over at the closed cot hatch and winced when she realized that Aili had just put the kid in there. “You two didn’t...in there, did you?”

“If what you think happened, happened, I’d tell you that cot is too small and it’s too late because you’re already leaning against it,” Aili fake-whispered, a large, innocent smile on her face. Cara let out a disgusted groan and moved from where she was leaning, moving towards another section of wall. 

“Actually I think it was that wall,” Mando said from his spot against the ladder. Cara tossed a rude hand-gesture his way and wondered when he had decided to get a sense of humor. 

“Was it? I was drinking and it was dark,” Aili questioned before shrugging her shoulders. She was a little surprised that he was joking about it too since it hadn’t been something either of them had brought up since it happened. It was mainly her avoiding the subject every time it seemed like Mando was about to say something because she didn’t want to talk feelings. Ever.  

“You slept with her while she was drunk?” Cara asked, turning to Mando with surprise on her face. She knew they had to be messing with her now. No way Mando would sleep with Aili if she was drunk. He had more honor than that given how he had always tried to stop himself from looking for too long whenever Aili walked around Sorgan in a tank top. Cara and half the other people in the village didn’t have as much self-control so she had commended Mando for that at the very least. 

"Cara, I drank you under the table back on Sorgan. You think I had that much alcohol on this ship, with that kid on board?" Aili questioned, raising a single eyebrow. There was no way to store that much alcohol on the Crest because there was nowhere to store it where Little Green couldn’t accidentally get into it. Her single bottle had been hard enough to keep from his reach. 

"Fair point but still.”

"I wasn't even tipsy besides I came onto him and wouldn't take no for an answer,” Aili wasn’t going to apologize for it now even if she and Mando weren’t declaring their undying love for each other. She mentally laughed at the image because even if that happened, it would never be so dramatic. One of them would have to literally be dying to get her to say anything and even then she wouldn’t admit to anything if it was her doing the dying. 

Cara paused for a moment before nodding and shrugging a shoulder, "That sounds more accurate. Surprising but accurate.”

The ship gave a small lurch as it dropped out of hyperspace and Mando let out a barely noticeable sigh as he now had a good reason to leave before Cara could keep teasing. He already knew she would focus on him because Aili would just join in rather than start blushing the way Cara would want her too. 

“So how was...?” Cara didn’t even try to keep her voice down as she asked. 

“I was great, thanks,” Aili said rather than seriously answer Cara’s question. It took until Mando was out of sight and standing in front of the cockpit to realize that Aili had actually given Cara a straight answer, giving the same answer as when he had asked. He shook his head knowing that Cara wouldn’t get the comment and he wondered if Aili had purposely said it or was deflecting like usual. 

He brought them down onto Arvala-7, landing just outside the Ugnaught’s moisture farm. Aili opened the hatch, not even a little surprised to see Little Green was awake. “Come on, womp rat. You can show me where all the best rocks are.” She placed him in the other floating cradle they had even though she actually couldn’t remember where they had picked it up. 

Mando came back down the ladder and made sure that the cradle was set to follow behind him. They all walked down the gangway, Mando in front while Aili chose to walk beside the floating cradle while Cara brought up the rear. Arvala-7 was only slightly better than Tatooine in Aili’s opinion and that had everything to do with the fact that it only had one sun. 

Aili couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her when Mando had to almost bend over almost completely to enter the Ugnaught’s home. She assumed Cara would have to duck as well while she entered. “Tall people problems.”

“Better than needing help getting food down from the top shelf,” Mando muttered low enough that only she heard him. 

“So you did do that on purpose,” Aili said bluntly before shoving at Mando’s shoulder and rolling her eyes. She knew she hadn’t put the snacks she had bought for herself that high up. No matter how much she wanted to keep them out of Little Green’s reach, she would never put them out of her own reach. Having to deal with Mando asking if she needed help as she tried to climb anything in order to get them down had almost been enough to make her smack him.  

They settled around the home, Little Green’s cradle to the side while Aili stood next to it, Cara and Mando leaning against a wall. The Ugnaught came close to the cradle and Aili knew it was dumb but she tensed up a little before relaxing. Obviously this was someone she could potentially trust otherwise Mando wouldn’t have brought them here but it was a reaction she couldn’t stop herself from having. 

“It hasn’t grown much,” the Ugnaught that Mando still hadn’t introduced them to said as he looked over the child in the cradle. 

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast,” Mando replied. 

“Mando, really? You could have mentioned that before and I would’ve told you that you were wrong,” Aili said, looking over at him with her face scrunched up wondering where he really got that idea. Logically she understood why he would think that but she’d seen Strand-Casts before. Little Green wasn’t one for multiple reasons. 

The Ugnaught nodded his head, “Your friend is right. I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked the gene farms, this one looks evolved. Too ugly.

“These two on the other hand, that one looks like she was farmed on the Cytocaves of Nora while this one looks like she could be from any number of facilities.” 

“Is that a compliment? I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” Aili said, a small smile on her face. She saw an almost matching one on Cara’s face, a little confused but mostly appreciative. 

“This is Cara Dune, she was a shock trooper and this is Aili Verdella,she’s... another hunter from the Guild.” Mando introduced them, something he probably should have done when they first walked in. But he hadn’t really been given the chance. Aili and Cara both raised an eyebrow over Mando stumbling over how to introduce Aili. 

The Ugnaught looked like he wanted to say something to Aili but he turned to Cara instead. “You were a Dropper?”

“Did you serve?” Cara asked, noticing the way his eyes had lingered on the tattoo on her arm. It was no surprise when people recognized it but it was usually others who had also served during the war. 

“On the other side, I’m afraid. But I’m proud to say that I paid out my clan’s debt and now I serve no one but myself.”

That was the moment a droid ducked into the home, an IG unit with a tray of what looked like tea in its hands. Aili didn’t know what to make of it because IG units were usually not used for serving tea but she wasn’t about to pull a blaster out unlike Cara and Mando who immediately did so. 

“Tea, it’s literally holding a tray of tea. What do you think it’s going to kill us with poison rather than a blaster?” Aili muttered to Cara and Mando who didn’t so much as lower their weapons in the slightest. She knew Mando hated droids but this was a little ridiculous, more so than when he shot at pit droids. 

“That thing is programmed to kill the baby,” Mando said knowing that was all he would have to say to get Aili to take the threat seriously. He felt a little bad even as he said it because he didn’t actually know how Aili would react. 

“What?” Aili questioned, slowly shifting her feet to move quickly if she had to be it towards the droid or to protect Little Green. She was cursing herself in her head for never getting the whole story from Mando on exactly how he had wound up with Little Green in the first place. Now she wished she had asked. 

“Not anymore,” the Ugnaught said gently. “Please lower your blasters.”

“Why do you have it?” Aili asked, glancing over at him for a brief moment before looking back up at the droid who was still just standing there with the tray of tea. She didn’t see any weapons attached to it but that didn’t mean much when it came to droids. But she had a feeling that the Ugnaught didn’t make it a habit of letting the IG unit have weapons at all times. 

He let out a sigh before launching into his explanation, if only to ease the Mandalorian’s stiff posture and convince him to lower his blaster. “It was left behind in the wake of the Mandalorian’s destruction. I found it laying where it fell, devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and stated it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic.

“Little remained of its neural harness. Reconstruction was quite difficult...but not impossible. It had to relearn everything from scratch, this is not something that can be taught with the twist of a spanner. It requires patience and repetition. 

“I spent day after day reinforcing its development with patience and affirmation. It developed a personality as its experiences grew.”

“Is it still a hunter?” Mando asked stiffly, blaster still in hand although he had lowered it a little. Cara had put hers away midway through the explanation but she didn’t have half the issues with droids as Mando did. 

“No but it will protect.”

The IG unit kept its ocular receptors trained on Mando for a long time as the Mandalorian stared at it as well. Until the droid held up a steaming cup, “Tea?” 

Cara took the cup after half a second, slowly drinking the tea without question and Mando let out a sigh knowing there wasn’t much else that he could say or do about the droid. The droid handed out tea to everyone else, save for Mando who refused the drink. Aili couldn’t tell if it was because of the helmet or droid itself. 

Eventually the Ugnaught had to go outside to tend to the blurrg and Mando made to follow after him before hesitating when he came closer to the droid. Aili came up beside him, placing a hand on his arm right under his pauldron, she waited for him to glance down at her. “I’ll stay here with Little Green, you go talk to him.”

Mando gave her a short nod before he left, the last thing he heard was Cara laughing. “Little Green?”

“He’s little and green, you got a problem with that?” Aili bit back, her tone only jokingly harsh. 

He walked over to where the Ugnaught was feeding one of the blurrgs. “I’ve run into some problems.”

“I figured as much, why else would you return?”

“I want to hire your services.”

“I’m retired from service.”

“I can pay you handsomely, Ugnaught,” Mando said, trying to keep his tone steady. They didn’t exactly have very much time before Karga just decided that they weren’t coming. He didn’t want to know what would happen after that. How many more hunters would be after them if the Imps weren’t taken out. 

“I have a name, it is Kuiil.”

“I need someone to protect the little one, Kuiil.” Mando said, immediately using the Ugnaught’s name and wondering why he had never asked before. He winced, glad that Aili had stayed back in Kuiil’s home because he knew she would comment on his manners again. 

“I’m not suited for such work and it seems like your companion can do so on her own,” Kuiil replied, referring to Aili and how she had immediately moved to protect the Child when Mando referred to IG-11 as a potential threat. 

Mando shook his head even though he wished that were the case with Aili. Karga wouldn’t accept only him showing up, not when Aili betrayed the Guild too at the request of the Armorer for a reason neither of them understood. “She...I dragged her into this trouble as well.”

“I see,” Kuiil said. “I can reprogram IG-11 for nursing and protocol.”

“I don’t want that droid anywhere near him,” Mando quickly refused. 

“Why are you so distrustful of droids?”

“Yes, Mando, please enlighten us.” 

“I thought you said you were going to stay with the kid,” Mando let out a sigh as he turned to look at Aili who simply shrugged her shoulders. 

“Relax, the IG unit had to shut down to charge and Cara is watching Little Green who is asleep. But I believe he asked you a question and I’ve been curious since Tatooine,” Aili said, a single eyebrow raised as she waited for him to answer. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the right to ask when she had shared pretty much everything about her own childhood, or lack thereof. 

“It tried to kill the child,” Mando said as if that answered either of their questions.

“That’s not an answer,” Aili said before rolling her eyes. But it was fine, if he wanted to continue keeping his secrets then it was his choice. She wasn’t going to hold a grudge against him for that or bring it up later. Maybe. 

“It was programmed to do so. Droids are not good or bad, they are neutral reflections of those who imprint them,” Kuiil explained and Aili actually couldn’t come up with a decent argument for that one. She’d seen droids take on the personalities of their owners, some ending up with very colorful language. 

“I’ve seen otherwise,” Mando said shortly. Once again Aili wondered where his hatred of droids had started because it was deep seated. An old grudge like hers when it came to the Empire. 

“Do you trust me?” Kuiil asked. Aili looked up at Mando and waited for his answer. Either they had Kuiil and the IG unit join them or they took off without either of them, which would mean reworking the plan for how Nevarro went down. Someone would need to be tasked with getting Little Green out of there if things went sideways and as much as Aili would say she could do it...

“From what I can tell, yes.”

Kuiil gave a short nod. “Then you will trust my work. IG-11 will join me and we do it not for payment, but to protect the child from Imperial slavery. None will be free until the old ways are gone forever.”

“Anyone against Imps is good with me, even if it’s a reprogrammed droid,” Aili said when Mando stayed quiet. 

“And the blurrgs will join me as well,” Kuiil said simply as he turned to walk away without further explanation. 

“The blurrgs?” Both Aili and Mando questioned at the same time. 

“I have spoken.” Kuiil said as he kept walking away, going back into his home without giving them time to argue with him. 

“Do we have room for blurrgs?” Aili asked, looking from the blurrg they were standing next to and then over to the Razor Crest. She also assumed that Kuiil would want to take at least two as well. That would make space on the ship tighter than it already was. 

“It’ll-”

“Please don’t say it will be fine,” Aili interrupted Mando before he could keep talking. Every time he said that everything went wrong in more than one way. Either she ended up with a concussion or she literally screwed up the mostly friendly rapport that had formed between the two of them. She was still avoiding that one as best as she could despite Mando trying to subtly bring it up at times. 

Mando let out a deep sigh, “I was going to say it’ll be a tight fit but we should have the room.”

“Doubtful but we’ll see.”

[deathonyourtongue]

Falling Again

Summary: Life is cruel, but the mind is crueler. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC  Word Count: 5.2K Warnings: Angst. Loads of tears. I apologize in advance. A/N: @luna-aestas​ requested angst in the same vein as the Welcome Home series, along with some unrequited love. What’s worse than unrequited love? Assuming it’s unrequited. This will probably end up being another series. You’ve been warned. 

Everyone told him that the pain would pass with time. That with each day, the wound would scar over and the dull ache in his chest would go away, that things like work and social events would be less awkward, and that even alone time would normalize again. 

They were all wrong. 

The truth was that it had been five years, and he still felt the pain like a red-hot poker searing through his heart each time he woke to live another day. 

The knocking on the door was never loud enough to hide the sound of her sniffles, and though sleep always threatened to drag him back under, it was her soft voice that always made him sit up. 

“Papa? I had a nightmare.” Her voice, tear-filled and scared, always broke his heart, and though there were days when he needed an extra moment to hide his own tears, he never denied his daughter entrance.

“Come in, sweetie,” Henry called, barely getting the words out before he heard the knob turning. He watched as she padded in, taking extra care to close the door behind her. With her otter plushie tucked under her arm, she tiptoed to the bed, looking up at her father, fresh tears tracks painting her ruddy cheeks. 

“What did you dream about, pumpkin?” He asked, his voice as soft as his daughter’s as he picked her up and lifted her into what had--over time--become her spot. He was shocked when the mere question had her whimpering, her little arms finding his neck and holding on tight as she cried into his shoulder. His face broke into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking any time his daughter cried so earnestly.

"We were at the park and I got l-lost! I ran the wh-whole park and f-finally found you, but-but you were a-asleep and wou-wouldn't wake up! J-just like g-grams!" She keened, his shirt soaked with her tears as she shook like a leaf in his arms.

Cradling her head against his chest, Henry smoothed down her hair over and over, his own eyes filling with unshed tears as he realized, in that moment, how much his mother-in-law’s death had affected his little girl. His mother-in-law had been far too young to go, but had lived long enough to become attached at the hip with his daughter. Her death hadn't come as a surprise to either of them, but holding her now, he could tell that his daughter hadn't been given a fair shake at grieving.

He'd taken her to the funeral, not because he thought it was the right thing to do, but because he had no other choice. Babysitters were exorbitant luxuries in NYC, and everyone he knew was either going to be in attendance, or tied up with work. Technically, he couldn't even afford the day off for the funeral, but his boss was self-servingly magnanimous and had paid him time and a half, knowing full well it would put Henry in his pocket for another year. She'd been quiet as a mouse during the ceremony, the eulogies, and the procession to view the body (which he'd left her in her seat for). Even the ride home, he realized, had been a silent one, and for all the grieving he'd done when he thought she wasn't looking, Henry had never seen his daughter so much as throw a tantrum to try and express herself.

Now, holding her as she wailed softly, her grip on him a vice that wouldn't release until she slept, Henry realized that the nightmares she'd been having were her mind's way of processing what had happened, and that, like her father, she was afraid of losing everyone she loved.

Kissing her forehead, Henry tried to think of a way to make her understand that he wasn't going to die the way her grandmother, and her mother both had, but he knew his daughter well enough to know that promising he'd live to a ripe old age wouldn't cut it.

"That sounds like a scary dream, pumpkin, but papa's not going anywhere, okay? Grams was very sick, the kind of sick that only really happens to people that are much, much, older than Papa. Grams was sick for a long, long, time. Ever since you were a baby. Papa just went to the doctor and he said I was in perfect health. I don't want you to worry about Papa falling asleep and not waking up, okay? I’m going to be around for a long, long time. Might even be around when you've got white hair and wrinkles everywhere, okay? Papa works out and eats healthy every day so that I can be around as long as possible. So don't worry, alright? I’m not going anywhere."

Sophia sniffled and whimpered a little more, but finally nodded, understanding what he was saying, even if she didn't 100% believe it quite yet. "I love you, papa," she whispered, giving him a squeeze. He kissed her temple and nodded. "I love you too, sweetheart. More than you'll ever know."

"I won't worry about it unless you go bald like grams or mama," she whispered, the decision one that made her content and relaxed in his arms, Sophia never to know just how much the simple reasoning shattered her father's heart.

Henry waited until she was completely asleep to tip his head up to the ceiling, his own tears silent and desperate as he clung to what little family had left.

There was very little he paid attention to at work aside from work itself. He couldn’t afford distraction; medical bills, funerary costs, utilities, rent, and groceries all required money, and working an entry-level job was barely cutting it, even with mandatory overtime. Still, there was one distraction he couldn’t seem to shake, despite the guilt that came over him each time he realized it was happening again. 

His distraction had a name and a devastating smile much like his wife’s. In fact, there was a lot about Zoe that reminded him of his Izzy. At first glance it was hard to see, given the differences in eye color, nose and face shape, but there was something about her mannerisms, her energy, and her kindness that evoked the love of his life. Henry couldn’t help but watch her whenever she came to speak to one of their colleagues, and at lunch they exchanged polite conversation. That was the extent of it, though. Henry knew that a woman like Zoe, a woman who radiated such brightness and joy, would never be with a man like him, a hulled husk ready to be crumbled into dust at any given moment. 

There were days however, where even Zoe’s brand of sunshine couldn’t break the storm clouds that seemed to follow Henry wherever he went, days where the world crushed him just that little bit further. As Henry took a seat at his desk, he knew today would be one of those days, if his morning had been any indication.

He had cried himself to sleep, if the heaviness of his eyes was anything to go by, but as the sun crept through the crooked blinds of his bedroom, Henry remembered the events of the night before, and in peeking down, found Sophia pretending to be asleep.

"Rise and shine, pumpkin, it's time for school," he murmured, peppering her face with gentle kisses, Henry angling his head before blowing a small raspberry on the top of her arm.

"Papa, I don't feel good," she said as she swatted his face away, her eyes staying closed--Henry's first indication that she was faking it.

"You don't feel good? Well, let's see," he kept his tone soft and neutral, both of them knowing this game all too well, both intent on playing it anyway. The back of his hand pressed to her forehead before he scooted down to press his ear to her tummy. Coming back up, Henry gave her a half-shrug. "You don't have a fever, and your tummy’s not rumbling...Is it the kind of 'not feeling good' where you just want to stay home?" Fixing her with a soft, 'tell the truth' gaze, Henry waited for her answer.

"I don't wanna go to school. Wanna stay home with you."

"But papa's not staying home, I have to go to work, sweetheart," he tried to reason with her, Henry surprised when, for the second time in less than 24 hours, Sophia’s lower lip started to quiver.

"But I want you to stay home! You're always so tired and so sad, papa! Want you to stay home so we can nap and have tea, and so you can be happy!" 

Sophia's reasoning hit him like a truck at an intersection, Henry feeling his heart stop for a few beats while he tried to process what she'd just said. He'd thought he'd always been careful to smile and be upbeat around her, but obviously his little one had the gift of stealth and had caught him in private moments, when he thought she wasn't looking.

"What makes you think Papa's not happy?" he asked, trying to keep his face neutral and his eyes from watering.

"I hear you crying every day, papa! And when you talk to Uncle Dom, you always say about how you're worried about money, and about how bills are piling up. At night, you say mama’s name over and over, like you're having a bad dream."

Tears spilled over as he listened to his six year old be so observant, so astute, and so heartbreakingly no nonsense in her reasoning. Chin falling to his chest, he only managed to hold back his sobs, crying as quietly as he could, because, as seemed to be the case whenever she really watched something and made up her mind about it, Soph was right.

The shrill ring of his cell phone cut through the otherwise-quiet moment, and Henry answered it without looking, not realizing that it was his sister-in-law, Imogen on the other end.

"H-Hello?" he stammered, the grief clearly heard in his voice, even through the shortest word possible.

"Henry? Darling, is everything alright? Nevermind all that, I’ll be over in a jiff."

Wiping his eyes, Henry sighed heavily, getting up to unlock the door to his ramshackle apartment, knowing Gen would be there in less than five. Though it was nice having her and her husband, Dom so close, there were times when Henry wished they lived just a little further up town. Henry hadn't been expecting the hug, but the moment Gen was through the door and her arms were around him, it was all he could do to keep from sobbing. 

“Are you certain you’re okay to go into work like this?” Gen asked softly, feeling a sense of dejavu come over her. It was a conversation they’d had often enough, both before and after her sister’s death, and it had yet to end differently. Shoulders shaking, Henry nodded, the words that followed being the opposite of what anyone wanted to hear.

"I d-don't have a choice," he whispered, knowing full well that any slip-up would cost him his job, and that being without income, even for a few days, would spell disaster for his and Sophia's lives.

"Aunt Gen, make him stay home and sleep!" Soph said quietly with urgency in her voice, the little girl knowing how frayed her father was, even if he fought it tooth and nail.

"Soph, sweetheart, Papa has to go to work. It's not like school, I can't miss a day just because I don't feel like coming in," he did his best to explain it to her gently, Henry crouching down, arms outstretched for her.

Reluctantly, she came, and Henry wrapped her up tight, kissing her head over and over. "You're going to have the best time with Aunt Gen. You always do. You'll go shopping and have lunch at her place, or maybe even help her and Aunt Beth make a cake! Or you two could go to the pool, or maybe even go see Uncle Dom at the bookstore. You're going to have loads of fun and before you know it, papa will be there to pick you up."

Though he managed to keep his voice steady, Henry's free hand covered his eyes, the age-old shame he felt as a father who couldn't provide everything his daughter needed and wanted coming back the second he realized he couldn't even give her spending money for anything.

Wiping his eyes hard, he pulled back and fixed his daughter with a beaming smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I want you to tell me all about the fun you had today once we get home, okay? Now, go on, you're wasting time hanging around here with your old gaffer, when you could be having pancakes for breakfast with your favorite auntie."

He winked, Henry’s smile growing just a little more when Soph's eyes lit up. It was rare she got more than a bowl of oatmeal in the morning, as groceries tended to be kept to the cheapest items that provided the most nutritional value possible. If the military had taught him anything, it was how to stretch food, and he did it without even thinking sometimes; without taking into account that a treat here and there would be good for his little girl.

Standing, he went for his wallet, eyes on the floor, jaw clenched, and face burning red with shame as he handed Gen a five, giving up what he'd budgeted for lunch for the week, wanting his daughter to at least have something on her day out with her aunt.

Henry turned immediately so that Gen didn't have the chance to put it back in his hand, moving across the room to grab his phone and call in to Sophia's school, not wanting to get the call later at work, where he wouldn't be able to answer it.

"Hi, Mary, yes, this is Sophia’s father, Henry. Soph's not going to be coming in today. She's feeling rather poorly, so I'm going to keep her home. Okay, thank you. Have a great day," he spoke softly, making silly faces at Soph while talking, grateful to get a silent laugh from her, his daughter knowing better than to jeopardize her day off by giggling loud enough to be heard by the school secretary.

"All right, pumpkin, come ‘ere. You have fun and listen to your auntie okay? No running off, no being a silly monkey in a crowded place. I love you, have fun, and I'll see you tonight," Henry said softly as he hugged Sophia tight, holding on just a little longer than usual and wishing for all the world he could call in.

“You always have a choice,” Gen reminded him, her face holding sympathy for the man who’d single-handedly been responsible for her sister’s happiness, especially in the last few months of her life. “You should stay for dinner. Dom’s making his famous Kitchen Sink Pasta,” she added after a moment, noticing the sallowness of Henry’s skin, how the hollows of his cheeks were becoming more pronounced.

To Gen, Henry and Izzy would forever be soulmates, an insurmountably perfect couple, but her sister’s request that he find someone new after her passing weighed heavier and heavier on Gen’s mind with every passing year. If Heaven did exist, Imogen imagined her sister was tearing her hair out with impatience, or sobbing without end at seeing how life had panned out for her husband after her parting.

"Easy for you to say," Henry murmured, giving Gen a kind smile, not needing to remind her that her situation was far different than his, given her huge family, and the fact that she ran her own business. The more Gen looked at him with sympathy, the more shame he felt, and while he knew she was only trying to do right by him, it only made him feel worse about his circumstances.

"Don't count on me for dinner. Dom's been picking up Soph for a reason. I probably won’t make it out of there until at least nine," he spoke softly and between his teeth, wanting to make it as garbled as possible so that Sophia wouldn't be upset. One look in her eyes however, and Henry knew his daughter had understood every word.

"You two have fun. I'll see you ladies later," Henry smiled, seeing them to the door and watching until they'd disappeared down the stairs before closing and sliding down against the frame, his tears free to fall in privacy.

Connected to her father by an invisible thread that latched her heart to his, Sophia forced Gen to stop midway down the stairs, her ears perked, head tilted towards the general direction of her home.

"Papa's crying again," she stated plainly, her own chin falling to her chest, the softest, saddest little  sigh escaping her. "He hasn't been happy in a very, very long time. Wish I could fix him. Wish I could make him stay home, aunt Gen. The only reason I wanted to stay home was to stay with him."

Sniffling, she wiped her eyes, looking up at her aunt with questioning eyes. "Do you think it would be easier for papa if I gave him all the money in my piggy bank? Would he be able to stay home and sleep then? Is there a way that we can make the bills stop coming? Stop them from making papa so worried and sad?"

Gen did her best to keep her face neutral as bent down to hug Sophia tightly, feeling the waves of anguish roll off her. Her heart broke for her niece, knowing the little girl was as empathetic as her father, and that at her age, emotions were always felt more deeply.

“Tell you what, why don’t we go back in there and see if we can’t convince your father to stow away with us one more time? I think he could do with some pancakes as well, don’t you?” Knowing she was pushing her luck, but also knowing Sophia would spend the day withdrawn if she didn’t try, Gen opened the door, hoping once, just once, Henry would say yes.

“So Soph and I decided that you don’t have a choice. You’re coming with us today, for pancakes and books and cake, alright?”

He’d had just enough time to wipe his eyes and stand up by the time the door opened and Sophia ran to him full tilt, hugging him as tight as she could manage for such a little girl.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking up at Gen in concern before her words clicked everything into place. Though he kept a smile on for Sophia, he couldn’t stop from fixing Gen with a look.

"Girls, much as I'd like to join you, I have to go to work. Like I said, pumpkin, I can't just skip a day because I feel like it. Papa's has to go to work." Henry was tender with his daughter, never once wanting to be the one that made her upset, but also needing her to understand that his world didn't work as easily as her's did.

"Give papa just a second to have a word with Aunt Gen, alright? Then you two can get to those pancakes," he nodded, pressing a kiss to each cheek and giving Sophia a squeeze, before motioning for Gen to follow him into his bedroom.

With the door closed and locked behind them, Henry ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a sigh. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. I really do. But I can't skip work, or I'll lose my job. Furthermore, Gen, if I miss a day, I literally can't make rent or groceries this month. I cannot skip today, especially when I’m being paid overtime. I'm sorry, I r-really am, and believe me, this is k-killing me, okay? But I c-can't. So please, don't get her h-hopes up like that. It's not fair--"

Turning his back to Gen, he curled in on himself until he was crouching down, hands covering his head as though it were a bomb drill. Using his forearms to muffle the whimpers, he stayed down there until he felt his composure return. Wiping his eyes with the same ferocity he always did whenever he knew someone had seen him crying, Henry stood up and gave her a gentle smile.

"Please make it a day she'll never forget, okay? Do that for me? Please?"

It wasn't lost on him, in that moment of vulnerability, that he'd yet been able to make it to any of his daughter's events during her first year in kindergarten. None of the little parties, show-and-tells, or anything of that nature had seen him in attendance, but instead, had been graciously covered--and recorded for later viewing--by Dom, who had been mistaken for Sophia's father more than once.

Wracked with guilt and shame over his failings as a parent, Henry looked down at the floor, destroyed through and through. There were a lot of things missing from his life that most took for granted; a couch, Netflix, sometimes electricity. But it was the intangible things that ate him up and made him feel like true scum. Missing Sophia’s events, not picking her up from school every day, and often being too tired to do more than what was absolutely necessary for her when he finally came home, were all things that caused him deep shame and often-sleepless nights.

He waited for Gen to give up, to say she understood, and to leave in order to hopefully give his beloved daughter a day she'd not soon forget, Henry knowing that today, no matter how easy the calls turned out to be, would be hell.

"You were supposed to be here by six, Cavill!!"

Henry's head snapped up when he heard his boss' voice booming down the hall.

"I'm scheduled to start at nine, sir," he replied, trying to maintain his cool as he fumbled with trying to pull his schedule from his desk drawers while putting himself in a code so that calls wouldn’t come in automatically. He was certain his schedule was right and that he hadn’t switched with anyone.

Even as he tore through his papers, a write up sheet was laid on his desk, Henry finding the printout before turning and looking up at Jerry, utterly confused and more than a little appalled.

"You were supposed to start at six, you showed up at nine. You're late, so I'm docking your pay." Henry's eyes hardened as he held up the sheet of paper, handing it to Jerry.

"I was scheduled for nine. I logged in at 8:58 am."

"I wanted you here for six, I told you on Friday. Sign the form and get back on the phones."

Henry tried to wrack his brains for any important conversations he'd had with his boss, anything that could help him defend himself, but nothing came. Friday had been as ordinary as any other day.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Henry signed the paper, knowing full well he was giving away half his paycheck and with it, any chance at getting rent paid on time.

Sick to his stomach, he looked at the clock, then at the picture of Sophia he kept tucked in the back of his cubicle. "I'm sorry, pumpkin. Should've just stayed home today," he murmured, wiping at his eyes to keep fresh tears at bay. 

By lunch time, Henry was beginning to feel light-headed with hunger. Knowing he’d given his lunch budget to Gen, he settled for a black coffee and took his usual seat, intent on shutting out the world, if only for a few minutes. 

“Uh oh, *someone’s had a rough morning,” Zoe grinned as she came in, setting her lunch bag down on the counter before putting the container inside into the microwave to heat. Moving over to where Henry sat slumped over, she rubbed his shoulders gently, surprised when she felt nothing but tension beneath her fingers. 

“Everything okay? I heard Jerry muttering in his office all morning about you being late, which I found unusual, given you were here on time.” 

“According to him, I should have been here at six. I think he has it out for me, or is planning on letting me go,” Henry answered, finally lifting up his head to look at Zoe. He wasn’t surprised when she gave him a double-take; he knew he looked like roadkill, her expression simply confirmed it. 

“Have you been sleeping alright? You look like you could use at least 24 hours’ worth,” She commented softly, Henry scrubbing a hand over his face before taking a sip of his coffee. 

“No rest for the wicked, isn’t that the saying? Soph hasn’t been sleeping all that well, so I wake whenever she has a nightmare.” Though it wasn’t the full truth, it wasn’t an outright lie. Henry simply omitted the parts he knew no one at work would care about.

Zoe grimaced in sympathy, getting up and fetching her food before sitting down across from him. Whatever was in the container smelled wonderful, and were it not for the coffee boring a hole in his gut, it would have been pure torture. 

“I bet she sleeps snug as a bug in a rug once she’s been comforted though, huh?” Zoe grinned, taking a bite of sauce-covered ravioli with impeccable manners. Like him, Imogen’s family, and Dom, Zoe was a British expat, having come to NYC to fulfill a career in fashion, but having had her dreams detoured instead. Unlike the rest of them, Henry had landed on his ass in the Big Apple, with all his prospects falling through within the first year of him being in the country. He managed to stay afloat until his paperwork was in place, but no matter how often he applied to jobs in his field, nothing ever came through. Then Izzy got sick and the downward spiral began for good. 

“That she does,” he agreed, rubbing his face and managing a smile for Zoe’s sake. Finishing his coffee, he allowed himself to daydream for a moment. He only ever allowed himself to think of what a date would be like with Zoe, and it was always the same thing. A bright blue sky, good food, and a trek through one of the city’s smaller and more interesting museums. Nothing more, nothing less. More than anything, he just wanted her company. 

“Earth to Henry!” Zoe’s sweet, musical voice brought him back to reality, and looking at her, he couldn’t help but blush. “You were on a different planet. Time to get back to it, sleepyhead,” she mused, tugging one of his curls playfully before letting it spring back up.

“Sorry. Just a zombie today, I s’pose,” Henry answered, looking at his watch and seeing he only had two minutes before he had to be back on the phone.

“I’ll see you later. No falling asleep at your desk, eh?” Zoe grinned, giving him a wink as she stood to wash out her container, her heels clicking on the floor in a way that had Henry momentarily entranced. 

Nine o'clock came as quickly as molasses. By the time he’d stamped out, Henry’s vision was blurred, and he was slightly dizzy. He was careful as he walked home, staying closer to the buildings than the car-lined roads, and waiting for the crosswalks to give him the right of way instead of jaywalking like he normally did.

By the time he hit Dom and Gen's block, he was swaying a little, beyond starving. He hoped the goodbyes wouldn't take too long and he and Sophia could be on their way. Dinner would be something quick, easy, and carb-loaded to hopefully keep his roiling stomach from protesting too much.

Taking the stairs slowly, Henry knocked on the door, leaning against the frame and dying to see his little girl.

“PAPA!!!!” Sophie called excitedly, rushing to Henry with the biggest smile on her face. Though she loved her extended family, it was clear that she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. Papa missed you a ton!" Henry grinned, dropping into a squat to hold her close, his body swaying a little at the sudden movement.

“We had so much fun today and I made you dinner and I made cake and Aunt Gen said you can eat here while it’s still hot and I missed you, papa!!” The second part came out in a single, muffled rush of air, a confirmation of the type of day Henry’d hoped she’d had. At hearing about dinner, he pulled back, fixing Soph with a playful, narrow-eyed smile before raising a knowing eyebrow up at Gen. 

"Did you now? Did you make it allll by yourself?" he asked, tickling Sophia’s sides, Henry tugging her close once more to press kiss after kiss to her face.

When his legs began to get pins and needles, Henry reluctantly let her go. Standing, he tripped over his own feet, Henry’s swaying combined with his clumsiness making it seem as though he were drunk.

"Everything alright, mate?" Dom asked as Henry finally came in through the door,  Dom hugging his brother-in-law a little tighter than normal, concern etched in his features.

"Yeah, yeah, just a very long day. Glad to be back with the munchkin and to apparently have dinner made for me…Gen," Henry spoke the last part with emphasis, shooting her a half-smile and a wink, not in the least mad at her for making him dinner. If anything, he was relieved he wouldn't have to wait until they were home.

He didn't even flinch as Soph crawled up onto his lap as his plate was set in front of him, Henry crooking his finger at Gen before she could leave, a warm kiss pressed to her cheek in thanks.

"Thank you for doing this today. I owe you big time," he murmured, cupping the back of her head for a moment, Henry wanting her to be certain that he meant every word.

“Just remember, you’re not alone in this,” Gen whispered back, her expression tight and filled with an emotion that was both intense and unreadable, a cross between anguish and worry.

“Hands off my wife, pal,” Dom joked to bring some levity to the room, his hands coming down on Henry’s shoulders with a friendly shake. Henry’s mind set out to hurt him, reminding him of the many daydreams of Zoe, of their lunchtime conversations, long enough to make him flinch in his seat, the thoughts feeling like blasphemy.  

There was once a time where he’d come back with a quip of his own, something quick-witted to keep the room laughing just a little longer. As it stood however, Dom’s words were just a painful reminder that there was only one married man in the room. Putting on a brave face, Henry managed to look the part, but his voice betrayed him, coming out soft and broken.

“You got a good one, mate, that’s for sure, but I got the angel.”

[cloveroctobers]

NOAH SAMPATH —

IG info/bio: @/noahknowspat | 275k followers | “A True Renaissance-Man.” | (currently his page is on private, which he often does several months out of the year

25 (26) years of age

Born & raised in Kandy, Sri Lanka until his mother decided to uproot him & his sibs to the uk leaving his father behind

Both of his parents are from Nuwara Eliya

His parents decided it would be best for just his wife & children to live elsewhere while he continued his work in hotel & tourism

Which to him, is the best job he’s ever had—in a sense it felt like he loved his job a little more than his family but Noah knew that wasn’t completely true

Noah figured there was something secretly going on between his parents, he noticed how they would argue more over the years & how his father was fond of their homeland while his mother was not

She did not have much family left, most either leaving the country or dying from sickness

He’s used to living in a bungalow since that’s what he grew up in

Moved to Romford which didn’t take long for him to get adjusted to, he was quick to adapt to situations since that’s normally expected of him as the eldest...

Lived with an aunt? Who really wasn’t a aunt in a cramped 2 bedroom apartment with a child of her own (who was around Noah’s age and favored Richa Moorjani) for a couple of years

Has two younger sibs: a 17 year old brother, and a 11 year old sister

His mother was m*rdered just before his 18th birthday, therefore he’s grown not to celebrate his birthdays even tho he knows deep down that’s not how his mother would have wanted him to go on

She was wise and often stayed up with the moon having conversations with her eldest—if not with all her children

but as he looked back on their conversations he could tell that his mother knew she wouldn’t be on this earth for long

Which showed him a different way of living

His father hated Romford, didn’t think it was the best/ safest place ( I did some research and mostly saw that this town is kinda rough. Anybody from the uk reading & have experience with the town please confirm? Not attending to offend anyone plus every place has its rough areas) for his family & felt his point was proven once his wife was k*lled

He demanded for his children to come back home but Noah wasn’t having it once he realized his father had changed & became aggressive himself

He hated confrontation but he was of age now so he could do what he wanted but there was no bloody way his sibs were going back with this man

He was not the man they all once knew—shit, his sibs BARELY knew him

So Noah fought a lengthy battle with guardianship over his siblings

It only became easy once money was involved for the man to back off

It was v difficult to manage a household and two children at 18-19 all on his own but he was willing to do it, he felt like it was part of his purpose

Plus his “auntie” & “cousin” came around quite often which helped somewhat & even tho the woman was gritty in how she carried herself, anyone could see she cared for Noah’s mother & her children otherwise she wouldn’t have been around before & after his mother’s death

She became like a second mum but no one would ever replace his mother

It was tough going through his early twenties...he had became a parent figure instead of going to uni to study archaeology

He loved fossils & dinosaurs as a kid 

probably keeps up to date with any articles or shows that share their findings on prehistoric species in water or land (I find that shit so creepy yet interesting until I get too creeped out and leave lmao? especially dealing with the ocean!)

Enjoyed that American show called “siren”

He didn’t enjoy much of what usual twenty-something year olds would, he had to be home to take care of his siblings they became a major part of his life now

He is the type to bottle up his feelings. Ofc he jumped at the chance to raise his sibs without a question after seeing the state of his dad a week after his mum’s funeral but he knew he HAD feelings

He wasn’t a robot just because he tends to be quiet & observant

He had his low days too

But he would hide them in books, that was his safe haven, his escape

He loved working as a librarian even if he got shitted on for it

It never payed much even in his position but it brought him comfort that there were aisles of novels ready to tell him stories & found some relation to his own life

As if that wasn’t enough, he loved going to book shops as well. If he had enough $ leftover he would treat himself in a new book purchase

Will buy a new book even if he has piles of unread ones, which he does have a section of that in his room & in the corner of the living room

Has a kindle since it was the cheapest & can easily slip it into a bag if he can’t decide on what book to bring with him

Has glasses but prefers contacts, ‘i don’t want someone to think I’m that nerdy since I read out in public.’ He often thinks to himself—yet when he’s immerse in those pages the world goes silent around him

Collects vinyl toy figures and keeps them either on his mantle or built in shelves in his room

Loves coconut water & won’t drink any water unless it’s coconut

Got his gorgeous cheekbones from his dad

His father p*ssed during his 23rd year of life due to tsunami hitting the hotel he worked in

He took his sibs to their native land once it was safe and connected with their father’s side, which was bittersweet

I think I get Scorpio energy from noah? Idk but it’s in there somewhere

He likes cutting his food into smaller pieces no matter what it is, it’s just a habit since he did so for his younger sibs

Secretly it’s also easier for him since he feels like the dentist ruined one of his nerves once he got his wisdom teeth out

He hates the dentist

His baby sis is deaf & he absolutely took the time to learn sign language along with his brother

Chose buying her hearing aids over paying a monthly bill when $ got tight

His 17 year old brother now works a job & helps out the best way he can even if it took a bit of persuading from their cousin

They’re all extremely close and are aware what Noah’s done and continues to do for them

Probably enjoys painting even if he’s not the greatest at it, but there’s something about water color that is pleasing to his eyes

He’s had many jobs to keep food on the table and support his family but being a custodian paid him the most yet he couldn’t continue working overtime not when his sibs were as young as they once were. He had to let the job go, the money was great, his co-workers sucked since they never came to work leaving him with OT, but it was also a lot of gross work & the teenage girls were always hitting on him

Prone to taking on more than he can chew whether it’s in relationships or life situations

Has either one or two best friends outside of the villa & they’ve been tight since junior year

They didn’t approve of Noah stepping forward to take care of his sibs, knowing it would be a big responsibility & possibly put his life on hold

But they didn’t understand & came around to once they saw him in action & became supportive/proud

He knows they mean well?

Cannot dance

Owns a couple of blazers that he feels the most comfy in

Loves a good pin-striped dress shirt

Has soft thin wavy hair

Will sport a 5’oclock shadow if he’s stressed out, tired, or wants to show a more “mature” side of himself

Misses his mum’s Lamprais & kottu roti

He’s 5’11

Had 1-2 gfs before the villa & both of them were super lengthy relationships which there’s obviously nothing wrong with

Always trying to make it work even if there are signs of it failing

Is not the dominant one in relationships & usually wants to keep the peace—which falls back on him taking everything on his plate & bottling them up instead of addressing situations from the jump

Is observant but also likes to assume?

Tries to be honest & loyal

Once he’s in a relationship & it’s confirmed from the other, he is completely devoted & smitten

I think quality time is his love language

I also think he tried to play the violin growing up since he found that to be one of the instruments that holds so much passion

Likes period pieces minsus the racism :)

Has read Frankenstein countless of times over Shakespeare, he’s got good work, yeah? but it’s a bit overrated

Keeps in touch with rahim & feels he understands him on a level his mates of years do not

They go holiday together when Noah feels he can afford it, even if rahim says he can pay for it. It’s not a big deal

Yet it is. He feels insecure when someone feels like he can’t do something because of where he’s from & what he does for a living. It showed more in his relationship with hope

Sure she was constantly paying for things but when he silently took the initiative to do so it was automatically assume that he didn’t have it even with his wallet out to pay

There were plenty of flaws in his relationship with hope and it took forever for him to see the toxicity in it even if fans adored them together

I’ve decided that they won’t be endgame. Which breaks everyone’s hearts after he’s the one to surprisingly call it quits after 3 years. He thought it would get better once he realized they way the acted towards each other was not completely heathly but it got worse

So he did what he had to do with what was in the best interest of everyone & hope did not agree

It was heated, it was emotional, and there was a last moment of intimacy to seal the deal of their goodbyes

Then came the drama online, with interviews and people trying to bring Priya into the mix & Hope was always vocal so it became a bigger issue

Noah just wanted to heal on his own but he was never going to engage in the drama. If they were all back in the villa face to face he might have said something but he didn’t need his words twisted so he rose above it and knew the two would eventually along with the fans

To get over the breakup? He hung out a little later with his mates at CLUBS, visited rahim, spent more time with his sibs, read, and...reached out to...BLAKE

After almost two years with whoever (in my case it was henrik) she was freshly single herself & not really looking but knew Noah was trying to get underneath someone. A rebound? Since he couldn’t bring himself to do so with the girls around home

Blake knew what happened with hope. She along with mc & some fans saw it coming. She thought about it, really thought about it but decided that she wouldn’t be Noah’s rebound. She knew Noah just needed time and when he was ready, maybe she’d be around

Celeb crush: Gillian Anderson, Antonia Thomas, Tika Sumpter, Aja-Naomi King, Normani Kordei, & Sophie Turner

Who does Noah listen to? Hozier maybe? KWABS, Grace Carter, Seinabo Sey, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Half Moon Run, Aisha Badru, Lianne La Havas, Dana Williams, Allan Rayman, Rationale, etc...

Anthem = Sid Sriram, “It isn’t true”

[tangerinegod]

Hello! I am sorry to bother you but I am a senior getting ready for college this year. I am in the US and I wanted to major in the same thing you did, do you have any possible tips for me? I still haven't even looked for colleges that would be best for animation majors so I figured if you were up to giving out any tips/saying any basic ideas if you wanted to/if you had the time to then maybe I'll have a better idea! I apologise for if I sound weird! I'm tried to word it correctly but I can't 😿

hi!! i’m totally down to share my experiences! someone else also had some questions so i’m going to put them all together in this post haha, hopefully this helps! it’ll get pretty long so apologies ahead of time but art school is a lot to think about so i wanna be as helpful as i can around it, its a lot of time and money. I’m gonna put it all under a read more cus it is really really long!

i wanna start off with the fact that I had the privilege of attending school in a financially stable environment, my parents were/are really supportive so w merit scholarship i only came out with around 20-30k in debt and i also had housing support my entire time in school. they were ok with me focusing on academics so i didn’t hold a retail job unless i was out of school like summer/winter break. Ofc though i regularly take commissions/do merch/cons to try and pay for all bills that arent rent cus i did want to be financially independent where it was possible. I also did try and work during the semester but everytime i did my body would deff start to breakdown from the fact that i didnt wanna compromise schoolwork with jobs.. so just read ahead know this experience is from a student who was able to attend focusing only on school work for most of the time!

the biggest thing is knowing art school is not required to become a professional in either freelancing or industry! there are a huuuge amount of online tools and classes these days that provide the exact same education and for cheaper too. i think it depends on what experience you prefer/can handle/want but it’s definitely possible to make art/animation art your living without higher education. the thing that college will for sure give you though is the ability to meet deadlines, work even when you dont want to, and connections with peers+teachers. i think the connections part is invaluable because you’re basically coming out with a network of people you already know and who know you! 

also its good to know if you want to attend/can handle art school! it’s a lot of time and energy and students get burned out really fast. the best piece of advice i got before going was ‘if you draw every single day, even if its for only like 5-10 minutes or a doodle for a whole year you should be fine’ consistency is super key because you’re attending school to draw, and you’ll have to create work for stuff you aren’t excited for at some point or another. burnout is extremely real and the only reason i didn’t experience it was probably because i got super into drawing naruto fanart again inbetween sophomore and junior year! it helped give me something to draw seperated from school which is the only thing i was drawing for since i had entered rip. a heads up id also consider myself a workaholic so i fit in ok with the ‘art school’ environment but it is suuper unhealthy. if you are fantastic at managing your schedule then it’s definitely possible to take care of yourself! freshman year i got 8 hours a sleep a night and only pulled all nighters for some second semester finals at the end. sophomore year + up though i ended up prioritizing hw over sleep and like for sure, definitely shortened my life span. there’s another q down below where i’ll go more into detail but ya, be careful w ur work balance!

another tip especially for animation is knowing for a fact what type of animation you’re looking to go into, and what the school is offering. I didn’t think i’d get into art school at the time so i only applied to two places + decided if i didnt get into either id attend community to get credits out of the way while building portfolio. honestly? i did not do a lot of research LOL but like i did end up having the chance to tour and stuff! just know that each school will have a very different curriculum. The main differences are schools that prioritize 3D (cg animation, cg modeling, ect) and 2D/traditional (hand drawn, ‘oldschool’, digital or traditional based) this is a huge difference so make sure you do research for it! in most cases a 2D/traditional program will also offer 3D since it’s at the forefront of the industry animation wise rn. My school taught 2D but like hand drawn on physical paper 2D, frame by frame. while it was a good experience it’s super outdated because digital tools make it way faster + easier! i’d recommend looking for a program that is digital 2D over traditional 2D. 

if after your senior year covid is still affecting campuses in the US to keep them shut down i’d recommend attending a community college to get credits and then transferring into school. one of the negatives is paying money for gened classes when ur not there for them; if you can get them out of the way sooner and cheaper there is absolutely no negative + you could graduate earlier or use the extra time for better work or to work a job! 

these are all the general tips i think i’d give on like a broad basis of attending or not to think about? let me know if u have more q’s! someone asked q’s im answering below that go more into personal experiences + work culture so heres those:

- how many hours a week do u spend studying, in class, otherwise making art? like how much of ur life does it consume?

I was basically working on art.... 24/7! since i wasnt working a job at the same time i crammed as many credits as possible into my schedule so on avg i did 18 credit semesters (around 6 classes) art classes go for 6 hours and non art go for 3, so i’d spent around 30-35 hours in class a week! hw wise it varied on the class but combined it would be around 35-50 hours a week... im guessing? on average studio classes would have 8-10 hours of hw, maybe 5 for a light week, and gened classes 5 hours w them all combined. or this was probably how things were before junior year? junior+senior year i had thesis + everything else ontop.. i’d spend around 30-40 hours on thesis a week with other classes ontop of that bc my film was super long cus im a dummy! 

- is it hard going to art school n realising that altho u were probably quite talented… so is everyone else? Like. all of a sudden. ur not special and everyone seems as good as u, you know? More generally, how do u deal with comparison?

kinda?? i think instead of the idea of like you vs others it feels more of like a competition at first to be the best. this varies hugely on school culture though; my animation year was really friendly with each other and get along extremely well, so my answer to this is v different than some others who attended different schools. i think that the idea of ‘comparison’ only lasts a portion of the first year because at some point you realize that it’s not a who’s better as much as its a ‘these are my coworkers’ type thing? like healthy competition 100% because we’re all working to improve but i think most of us learned pretty early on that viewing each other as peers going into the same workforce helped a lot. also at some point everyone develops their own style/starts to develop their artistic preferences so there isn’t a way to compare whos 'better’ anymore? i dont think there ever is tbh because style is appealing based off of an individuals preferences. If anything realizing everyone else is also amazing makes you wanna work harder ig? or thats how i felt! it’s inspiring to be surrounded by so many people who create such amazing work. 

- is there a lot of workaholic culture? all nighter culture?

100000% there can be a workaholic and all nighter culture. i know people who avoided it and thats honestly fantastic because i fall super easily into that pit. sometimes i’ll pull all nighters on a personal project just because i really want to finish it... i am definitely considered a workaholic all the way through and its not healthy rip... i’d estimate at the worst i was pulling 2-3 all nighters a week and only 4-5 hours of sleep on the nights i didn’t? that was only for one year tho, after that i was like yeah ok this is really bad for my health in the long run LOL so i tried to cut it down to one all nighter a week and around 5-6 hours of sleep the rest of the week! by senior year my decision to cram in full semesters paid off and i was able to consistently get around 7 hours of sleep a night + no all nighters minus finals since my schedule was lighter despite thesis 😭 while there is that culture i don’t think people view it as like a badge of honor or something to be proud of anymore which is good, we mostly view it as a flaw of the art school system and something that needs to be fixed!!

- are you glad u did it? how did u know it was what u wanted?

i am glad i did it! i’m definitely in a limbo right now of if it was worth both my time, money, and my parents money rip but i think with what i got out of it i definitely wouldn’t be as far skill wise or knowledge wise when it comes to the art industry. i would say it was only worth it for be because i had so much support going in though so i was able to focus so much on improving. if i had only been able to put in part of the effort and not make full use of the resources provided i would honestly have a different answer.. 

i knew it was what i wanted when i realized i really couldn’t see myself pursuing a different profession happily! despite all the bumps and stuff im fully in love with drawing still and feel honored that it’s a field that can provide a living. my second profession choice was to go into culinary school? and third option i think going was into music cus i was also a band kid hehe.  

- how do u cope with ur hobby becoming ur job? how do u deal with art going from something u do for fun to something u do on command constantly?

i think seperating work art from personal art is important! in my case im doubling naruto into being personal work so i have something to fall back onto that isn’t work related. its been a hyperfixation for 12+ years? so drawing it at this point is just like personal art imo. some people have hobbies outside of art and only draw for their job! i think after attending classes for so long the idea of hobby turning into job feels extremely natural? also i enjoy doing it so thats a huge plus! 

sorry this is SO long but i hope i answered your guys’ questions! if you have more just lmk!

[need-a-fugue]

Why Not? - Chapter Four

Summary: With a garage to run and a young daughter to, well… run after, Bucky Barnes doesn’t exactly have time for dating. And with his relationship track record – and the constant meddling of a certain overbearing best friend – he’s not so sure that’s a bad thing. But then he meets Annie – a rather insistent, pretty damn cute fellow car enthusiast – and it’s got him asking himself, despite all his hesitations, why not?

Author’s Note: Written for Little Darlin’s Mystery AU Challenge. Thanks to @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ for triggering this… sprawling thing simply by supplying me with the prompt of Mechanic!AU for Bucky. It’s taken on a life of its own already… look at what you’ve done!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: Bit of angst, mostly fluff. Some bad language words...

Chapter Four

“So?” Steve croons, almost giddy as he strolls through the door, finally rolling into the garage late Monday afternoon.

Bucky doesn’t give him a hard time about his lack of punctuality, not really… not when Steve is typically the one covering for his absences. Besides, he figured this might happen. Nat was supposed to get back late last night from a week-long business trip. So, yeah, it makes sense that the two of them would end up sleeping in this morning. Especially considering that they were conveniently kid-free.

But… shit, it’s almost three. And c’mon, it’s pretty ballsy to walk in that late. And to do it because you were busy banging your best friend’s ex. And to open, not with an apology, but with a, So? dropping out of your gossip-hungry mouth. 

Now, maybe – maybe – if it were any other day, this wouldn’t bother Bucky quite so much. Maybe he’d just laugh it off and tell his busybody friend to get his ass to work. Maybe. But today had already been a day, and Bucky can feel himself teetering dangerously close to the edge. And what pisses him off more than anything right now is that Steve would’ve been able to plainly recognize that fact… if only he bothered to read the room a bit before opening his big, dumb mouth.

Had he just done that, had he instead asked, Hey, man, what’s up? Everything okay? Then Bucky could’ve vented – just for a moment… that’s all he really needed – about getting bested by a four year old last night, agreeing to forgo a bath and then letting the chlorine-soaked kid sleep in his bed, rolling and flipping and kicking him in the face at two in the morning.

He could’ve told him that, thanks in large part to that debacle, he was too damn exhausted this morning to push when the age-old how to appropriately dress when leaving the house argument erupted just after breakfast. He could’ve explained that’s why the victorious four year old over in the corner is wearing her new Moana swimsuit right now. And overalls that are at least a size too small, causing a wedgie deep enough that she’s been picking at it all damn day. Oh, and snow boots… yeah, she chose to wear snow boots. In the dead of summer. And he was powerless to keep any of it from happening.

He could’ve also explained that, while he didn’t really expect Steve to be in early, it would’ve been nice if he’d shown up by noon. Because there were already four drop-offs by the time he got in this morning, and he still has two rebuilds out in the back bays. Not to mention the Cobra, which is good to go now, but is still taking up valuable space – because no way is Bucky risking parking that beauty out back. And, yeah, Peter had been around to pick up the slack and to help keep Lana out of trouble – thank God for summer vacation and a kid with a good work ethic – but still… it would’ve been nice to have his business partner around to help deal with the business.

Hell, it would’ve been nice if Steve had just noticed and given his friend the much-needed opportunity to say all these things – to garner a little bit of well-deserved sympathy. And maybe a meek apology too.

But instead what he gets is a smug-ass, So?

Bucky’s nostrils flare, brow furrowing, as he watches the blond – giant, goofy smile splitting his big dumb face – head for the counter where he’s busy finishing up placing an order. “What?” he snipes, eyes narrowed and tone more than a little heated.

Steve stops short, brows shooting high. He shakes his head in amusement and takes two large, comical steps back from the counter. “So it went that well?” he jokes, before turning and heading around the corner. He pops into the office to drop off an armload of paperwork, and waits for Bucky to follow.

Which he does, quickly wiping down his hands and tossing the oil-covered rag on a shelf. He glances over his shoulder to see that Peter and Svetlana are still consumed with watching… something on his phone, and he follows his friend to the office. Leaning stiffly in the doorway, he cocks his chin up to indicate a pile of papers on the desk that Steve is haphazardly trying to shuffle off to the side. “Those need to be paid this week,” he states casually, earning a deflated sigh from the otherwise chipper man.

Steve picks up the bills on top of the stack and lays them in another pile he’d been organizing. What his method is, Bucky’s never quite been sure. But he’s managed to pick up most of the slack on the bookkeeping end of the business, and as long he continues to keep their doors open, he honestly doesn’t really care what his system entails. “Seriously,” he breathes out after a long moment, once he’s seemingly satisfied with the layout on his desk. He steps around it to lean back into the metal tabletop, folding his arms coolly over his chest and smirking openly at Bucky. “How’d it go? You get lucky?”

“This coming from the guy who didn’t lose his virginity ‘til he was twenty-two,” he smarts with a smirk of his own.

“Hey, just because I was a late bloomer doesn’t mean I have no interest in sex now.” He quirks a rather assessing brow at the positively brooding man, giving him a knowing stare. “And besides, it’s not exactly a secret that you really need to get laid.”

“Very funny,” he grinds out through gritted teeth, a strangled breath blowing tightly through his nose as he tenses in the doorway.

Steve only laughs. “I’m just saying, it could do wonders for your… mood.”

“I’ve had about enough of you bitchin’ about my mood, Rogers,” Bucky declares with a pointed finger and just a hint of playfulness in his otherwise irritated gaze. He shakes his head vaguely – the gesture somehow looking both amused and indignant. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you lost the right to talk to me about getting laid when you shacked up with my wife.”

“Ha, ha,” Steve counters dully, rolling his eyes. He swallows thickly and quirks a forced smile. “She’s not your wife.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, folding his arms across his chest in a manner mirroring Steve’s.

The truth is, Bucky barely thought of Natasha as his wife when they were married. Theirs was a marriage of convenience more than anything – easier to trade off midnight feedings and diaper changes and the woes of teething when living in the same house together. And better insurance coverage for a recently out-of-work Nat – OBGYN appointments and ultrasounds and childbirth being stupid fucking expensive. And he’d only really batted an eye at her and Steve hooking up because… well, because it’s Steve. And honestly, he still sometimes has trouble seeing the giant blond as anything other than the scrawny, scrappy absolute dork he grew up with.

But once hooking up morphed into something… else, something more… once his two friends decided, just a few short months ago to make it unofficially official and move in together, well, that’s when Bucky started to feel an odd tug and pull in his gut. A feeling that sometimes drains his breath away, tightening like a vice around his chest and sparking a sort of resentment that burns and simmers like the charred embers of a just-extinguished fire.

It feels a little like jealousy. A lot like grief.

Most of the time, he’s able to ignore it, bury the feeling deep, deep down inside… squelch the smoldering until the acrimony passes. But sometimes he gives in, the bitterness typically rising in passive-aggressive jokes and not-so-off-hand comments. Hurting his friends – his best friend and the mother of his child – is definitely not something Bucky would ever want to do. But there is a small amount of satisfaction in this game that he sometimes just… craves.

Steve lets out a rather exasperated huff, unfurling his arms and reaching down to tightly grip the edge of the desk behind him. “Come on, Buck. Are we really gonna do this again?” he asks, tone impassive.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responds with a dismissive shrug and a smug expression.  

“Jesus,” he breathes out, irritation seeping from the word. “We never did anything while you two were married. You know that.” The words are issued out with little emotion. This is just a reminder, not an argument. They’ve been through it. Over it. A million times or more. “And besides, even when you were together… you never…” He releases his grip on the desk and issues out a stilling breath before looking up at his friend with patient, pleading eyes. “You guys were never in love.”

Bucky simply stares, left foot shuffling slightly as he digs his tow into the tile of the floor, jaw ticking tensely to the side before unlocking just enough for him to say, “There was love there. Might not’ve been… whatever the hell you two think you have…”

Steve sighs, long and languid, as he continues to try to pull back from this all-too-familiar precipice. “You two had a fling that ended in a shotgun wedding. You had some fun and some… hardship. You had a beautiful little girl. But you never had love. Buck, you as much as told me that.”

He shrugs, jaw still tensing, arms tightening around his chest.

Steve shakes his head gloomily, lets out an almost dejected sounding sigh. “Are you gonna tell me how your date went or what?”

Bucky purses his lips tightly together, stormy gray eyes shifting around the room as he seems to think over his friend’s inquiry. And Steve, for his part, simply waits, patiently lingering atop the edge of the desk as Bucky works to bring himself out of the funk he so easily seems to fall into these days. He almost laughs while he waits, recalling doing this same exact thing with Lana just the other day when she lashed out at him after being refused TV time and proceeded to silently sulk on the sofa, her tiny jaw clenched and ticking to the side in much the same way as the man standing across from him now.

Natasha had fumed over the interaction, telling him he has the patience of a saint before huffily marching Svetlana over to timeout.

Finally, Bucky shrugs, arms loosening and dropping to his sides, hands slipping casually into his pockets as he rocks back on his heels. “It went… fine,” he mutters before glancing up and catching Steve’s curious gaze, his eyes widening as if to say, go on. “It was fine. It was good. She seems… nice.”

“Nice,” he repeats, head bobbing up and down, small, appreciative smile creeping across his face. “Just nice?”

“What more do you want her to be?” he asks rather pointedly.

“I don’t know. I mean, she’s pretty. She’s nice. You said she was good with Lana the other day. She knows cars…” He shoves off of the desk and takes two long strides toward Bucky. “She obviously really likes you… got Tony freakin’ Stark to spy on you.”

A quick laugh sputters out of him, fond smile sweeping over his face. “Not sure that was her doing. You know he’s a mechanical engineer?” he asks, face twisting distractedly. “He builds robots. I don’t know why I ever bought that he needed a mechanic.”

Steve reaches out and takes a firm hold of his shoulder, clamps down and gives a quick shake. “I don’t care about Tony Stark.”

“So sorry to bore you,” he complains, gaze falling to his foot as it continues to scuff along the tile. “Yeah,” he mutters after a moment, offering another halfhearted shrug. The corners of his lips quirk up just the slightest bit… and he can feel the pull in his cheeks too as his face sets into a grin. “Annie’s nice.”

Steve chokes back a chuckle and squeezes his shoulder a little tighter. “Your lips say she’s nice. But your face says she’s really something else,” he intones with a lilt and a wink. He drops his hand and leans back to give him an assessing look. “You gonna go out again?”

Bucky chews his lip hesitantly before nodding. “Yeah. I think so. She should be in later to pick up the Cobra. So…”

“So…?” he intones, the word imbued with just as much mirth as it had been the first time he said it. Bucky says nothing, just shakes his head as he bites back a snicker. “Go on,” Steve mutters, slapping him on the shoulder and spinning him out the door. “Get back to work. I got bills to pay.”

It’s not even an hour later when Annie shows up, dropped off by a taxi that speeds away like it’s in a police chase. Bucky meets her at the door – not even thinking about how obvious that makes it seem that he’s been waiting and watching for her – and lets out a low whistle after the screeching tires. “You say something to make him take off like that?”

She tosses a glance over her shoulder as she strides into the shop, dark hair flipping wildly with the motion. “Just mentioned I had a .22 in my boot when he asked if I wanted to make a pitstop,” she says with a shrug.

“Do you?” he asks, forehead wrinkling in both amusement and concern.

“Of course not,” she breathes out, dropping her arms onto the counter and pivoting her weight forward. “I don’t believe in guns… or violence. Or making pitstops with creepy fifty-year-old cabbies who almost veer into oncoming traffic because they’re so focused on trying to see up my skirt through the rearview mirror.”

Bucky feels a quick pang of anger shoot through his chest, a sudden swell of protectiveness – or, shit, is possessiveness? – rises up in his gut. “Well,” he breathes out, quirking his frown into a forced grin. “I have a pretty nice ride here that can get you across town instead.”

She follows him through the shop as he leads her to the bay where Peter and Svetlana are lazily polishing up the wheels on the Cobra. “Oooo,” she intones, eyes blowing wide. “You gave her a bath too?!” She drops down to the ground at Lana’s side, the kneel looking awkward – even painful – in her high-heeled ankle boots and tight skirt. “She looks beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Lana quips, grinning up at her before retuning her attention to the brilliant chrome wheel.

Bucky steps up behind them, looming largely as he says, “Lana and Peter both have those tiny fingers. Perfect for getting between all the spokes to polish up the wheels.”

Peter shoots him a look somewhere between confused and offended, and rises swiftly to say, “My fingers are…” He thrusts his hands out in front of Bucky, voice going a bit high pitched when he finishes with, “These are the hands of a man.”

Annie chokes on a laugh, sputtering and covering her amusement with a cough as she ducks her head and continues to kneel by Lana’s side, pretending to be as focused on the shiny wheel as the little girl seems to be. But Peter hears her none the less, letting out an offended huff and spinning to head out toward the back bay, mumbling something along the lines of, “no respect,” as he goes.

Bucky snorts out a sudden laugh of his own when the kid accidentally collides with Steve as he steps out of the office, shoulder checking him and then anxiously fussing with the items knocked from his boss’ hands. Juice boxes. The kid is fretting over spilled juice like he’s gonna lose his job. Steve chuckles lightly, pats Peter on the back, and hands him a box for his trouble, placating and sending him on his way.

“Juice break!” he announces as he rounds the corner, making his way over to them. Bucky raises a suspicious brow, not at all believing that it’s a coincidence this impromptu snack break is happening in time with Annie’s arrival. Steve catches his wary guise and merely wiggles his eyebrows in response before looking over to Annie and offering, “Juice?”

“Uncle Steve,” Lana announces, taking the box with the freshly popped straw from him. “That’s Annie. And she has that car. But not really. But she gets to drive it. And I made it pretty.”

“I see that, pumpkin” he says, reaching down and running his fingers casually through the little girl’s curls.

Annie happily accepts an apple juice from his other hand, smiling gratefully as she offers a nod and says, “I’m Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. So, not my car. But, like Lana said…” She shoots the little girl a conspiratorial wink. “I do get to drive it.”

“Can’t say I’m not jealous,” he intones, glancing over at the shiny specimen before them. “And I gotta say,” he mutters, hand raking down through Lana’s hair and coming to rest at her cheek. He gives her a gentle pat and she leans easily into him, resting her head on his thigh. “You made her look real pretty, buddy.”

Annie nods in agreement, looking over at Bucky and expecting a similar appreciative nod from him. But what she sees instead is a rather stiff, emotionless expression constricting his features, his shoulders tightening as his gaze falls to Steve’s hand, once again tenderly tangled in his daughter’s hair. “Uh, yeah,” she mutters, momentarily distracted by the sudden, thick tension. “You did a great job, Lana,” she says, keeping her eyes trained on Bucky, studying him with a sad sort of curiosity as he continues to watch his daughter melt so casually into this other man’s embrace.

“Oh,” Steve starts, exuberant blue eyes honing on in her, seemingly utterly oblivious to the sudden discomfort of the man to her left. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He drops the remaining juice box onto a shelf and extends his hand for a shake.

Her head whips towards him, confusion creeping along her features for a fleeting moment before she accepts his hand and offers a bright smile. “Yeah, yes, of course. No, Bucky mentioned you. And actually… I think we’ve met before. When I brought in my car.” Her eyes veer quickly to the shining convertible at her right before returning to the tall blond in front of her. “My… I have a Bronco.”

Steve’s smile is absolutely luminous, his face seeming to split with joy as he says, “Yeah, I know. I remember. Just seems like you always end up talking to this guy,” he says, ticking his chin towards Bucky.

Annie lets out the smallest, breathy chuckle, her cheeks popping with a quick swell of crimson.

“Heard you two got together for dinner,” he goes on, biting back an amused chortle. “Where’d you guys go?”

“Oh, uh… McGuinness?” she sputters, trying to remember the name of the place. “Just this little pub…”

“Yeah,” he says with a curt nod. “Yeah, I know it well. We go there a lot, right Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes pop up to meet Steve’s, a tight lipped smile pulling at his features as he nods.

“You guys gonna go out again?” he asks, sly smile blooming as he turns away from Bucky, directing the question to Annie instead.

“Oh, uh,” she falters briefly, eyes ticking nervously between the two men. “Maybe. I mean… I hope so.”

“You should go to the zoo,” Lana says after a long and loud slurp through her straw. “Daddy loves the zoo.”

“Oh yeah?” she beams down at the girl.

“Yeah, he likes the monkeys best.”

Bucky’s lips split wide, blossoming grin bright and true and beautiful as he gazes down at his little girl. “I like my monkey,” he tells her, wiggling his brows to pull a thick, wet cackle from her.

“Well,” Steve says casually, “I think you two should just head out now… take the Cobra… maybe grab some Chinese. Bucky loves Chinese, doesn’t he?” he asks, quirking his head down and giving Lana’s hair a little tug. She nods in response, too busy sucking her juice box dry to offer any words. His fingers continue to thread idly through her curls, giving another short tug when he hears the vacuous sucking of a bone-dry box. “You about ready to head out, bud?”

She shakes her head and pulls away from his gentle hold, her wild hair flying in a mad halo around her as she leaps towards Bucky. “Nope,” she states, popping the P with flair as she slams into him, slipping around to hide behind his back.

Steve cranes his neck to peer around Bucky and down at the little girl as she coils herself tightly round her father’s leg. “You sure? Mom’s been traveling all week,” he says, tender tone just for her. “She really wants to see you.”

“I’m supposed to have her ‘til the end of the day,” Bucky states, his voice taking on a hard edge, hand sliding down to splay protectively over Lana’s small back as she continues to cling to him.

Steve merely gazes at him with wide, weary eyes. “Yeah, I just thought… we’re pretty slow now. Peter can handle closing things down. I thought we both could take off a little early. I figured, you two…” He lets out a soft sigh, smiles shyly, nervously. “And then… maybe Nat could get a little more time with her…”

His face remains still, impassive. There’s a coldness to him that Annie had yet to see, and it startles her a bit. Saddens her, truth be told. Especially when she sees his shoulders pull and stiffen even further, the muscles of his jaw rippling beneath his cheek as he repeats, “I have her until the end of the day.”

“Buck,” he breathes out, eyes flickering down to the girl in his grasp. She still has herself wound tight around his leg, but unlike just moments before – when her face was lit with that wide, sweet smile, cheeks rosy with playful exertion – she’s now stiff and silent, curled up into herself.

Bucky follows his friend’s eyes down to the little girl clinging to his side. A long, languid sigh escapes him, deflates his bitter resolve as he feels the tiny muscles tense in her back, sees her face shift and press deeper into his thigh. He’s not oblivious to this disposition of hers, this propensity that he had somehow bestowed upon her to slip so easily into a silent, sullen state. The inclination as well to mirror his own temperament and echo even his worst traits like a little imprinting duckling.

“Okay,” he mutters with a groan before reaching down and peeling her off of him. He lifts her into his arms, leaning back a bit to get a good look at her face. He matches her pouty frown with a put-on, overly dramatic one of his own, raises a brow as he gives her a little jostle and waits for her countenance to crack.

She shakes her head, continues to pout, the Romanov stubborn streak bubbling up to the surface. He pokes her in the side, a jolting tickle that usually works to pull her from a sulky stupor. But not today. She pulls back, shifting heavily into his other arm with a long, deep bellow of, “Noooo.”

Another sigh. Another quick glance over at Steve, who’s standing still and silent, nervously chewing his lip. “How ‘bout this,” Bucky tries, bouncing Lana in his arms again. “You go hang out with your mom… because I know she really missed you and really wants to see you. And maybe you can come back to the garage to help me out for a while in the morning?” He looks up at Steve – hates that he feels like he needs to – seeking confirmation… permission.

He shrugs. “Daycare should be back up and running tomorrow, but I guess she could come by for a bit before.”

Lana’s brow furrows as she thinks on the proposition. “What about Annie?” she asks, voice just barely above a whisper as she leans into Bucky’s ear. “Are you gonna go to the zoo without me?”

He shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. “No, baby. I’d never go to the zoo without you.” He leans in and swiftly swipes his nose along hers, bopping their tips together and finally pulling just the smallest of giggles from her when he murmurs, “Can’t watch those monkeys play without my own little grease monkey, right?”

“Okay,” she agrees finally, though there’s still a suspicious amount of doubt in the word for such a little girl.

“Okay,” he nods, laying a messy raspberry of a kiss on her cheek and plopping her onto the floor. “Go throw away your juice box and grab your stuff,” he directs, waiting until she disappears into the office to turn back to Steve.

“I’m sorry, man,” the blond states, a giant, nervous hand pawing at the back of his neck. “I just thought… I figured this would work out for all of us…”

Bucky waves him off, clears his throat and says, “It’s fine. Really. It’s just a couple hours early,” directing the words at Steve despite shifting his gaze at anything else. He pivots away, back towards the car – back to face the awkwardly silent woman standing beside it – and he lets out a stilted breath. “What do you say,” he starts, stern countenance slowly melting away as his eyes flick up from the Cobra to Annie’s soft, soothing eyes. “You wanna take me for a spin?”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

The First Time (Clint x ofc)

Well, this took longer than I intended. Happy Friday! For those of you who are regular readers of mine, here’s a remind: Of Dust and Ashes is *not* posting this week. For any new readers, Welcome! I promise not to hurt you too much.

This is a one-shot for @avengerscompound‘s Take A Line Challenge. I tend to be far too shy to interact with many of the big writers around here but I just want to say Thank You for the endless amount of reading materials you’ve given. Header a gift from @avengerscompound​

My line was:  “Once you’re in that place, you just… hate yourself so much that.. you can’t imagine how anyone could ever not hate you…”

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mental/emotional trauma, death, gun violence, referenced child trafficking. 

Rating: Teen

pairing: Clint x ofc

Want more Clint work? Want to see what else I’ve been up to? Check out the Masterlist

The First Time

Bullets flew by her, hitting the wall behind her. Chips of brick and stone fractured and stabbed against her neck. It had been close, far too close. This was a mistake. It was all a mistake but even that thought was fractured as it flew through her racing mind.

She had to get across the room. She had to get to where they had the kids. She had to save them.

In her ear, her boyfriend Clint and Natasha were screaming. Orders were being issued and frankly, she was ignoring them all. Later, she would be punished for this, written up for it but right now, it didn’t matter. What mattered right now was those kids that were being bought and sold right in front of her. The plan be damned, she wouldn’t allow any of them to go through another day being forced to clean and slave for others.

Clint had to beg to be placed as lead on this mission. She had to push and push to earn her place on this mission. It wasn’t her first field mission but it was her first high stake mission and she was blowing it. But she couldn’t not do anything. So what if they never put her back in the field.

Before she could figure out what her next move was, she found herself looking at the back of a burly man. It felt like each heartbeat was at risk of bursting her chest open. The man held a gun and was yelling words at children, ushering them out of a back door.

They were taking the kids. If they took the kids, there was a chance that Shield wouldn’t be able to locate them before they were sold. The man slapped a small girl, she had to have been under five years old. The tiny body hit the ground.

She couldn’t hear the voices screaming in her ear piece. If asked, she couldn’t begin to say when she pulled her gun. She had no memory of leveling it. When the brittle crack of the gunshot filled the air, she was as surprised as everyone else.

Her hands ached with the recoil. The way a gunshot impact hits a human body was very different in reality than what she had seen in movies. There was a small burst of red as his neck came apart and then, that was it. He wasn’t thrown back. He simply dropped.

Children screamed. Clint yelled orders. Natasha lectured Clint.

She aimed her gun as another man rushed to the children and without thought, she pulled the trigger. Another brittle crack filled the air and another lifeless body hit the ground. The only sound that registered was the sound of her gun and the sound of the bodies falling.

Blood trickled down her cheek but she paid it no mind. Again and again, she took aim and fired. This wasn’t how the mission was planned. This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how things went.

“Nicci?” A voice called and a hand settled on her shoulder.

She jerked, eyes wide and stumbled back a few steps. The gun hit the arm of the person behind her, bashing against their arm. The man cursed but she couldn’t hear it over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears and the crying of children. Without thought. She raised the gun while alarm bells dimly roared in the back of her mind and she pulled the trigger.

There was a hollow click. She pulled it again but there was again only a hollow click.  The man reached out, yanking the gun from her hands. She couldn’t die here. She couldn’t die now. She needed to make sure those kids were safe. Protected. She needed to-

The man grabbed her wrists as she struck out at the man, dressed in black. He grabbed her and held firm but otherwise did not move as she struggled. Panic welled in her, eating into the rage that had been fueling her.

When she moved to kick him, he used her momentum to spin her around. Her back was only to him for a split second but he didn’t give her a chance to round on him. In the space of a heartbeat, his arms were around her and his large hands wrapped around her wrists. He held her tight as she bucked against him, doing everything she could to work herself free.

It was no use though. With the panic racing through her mind and the flood of adrenaline, her training was carried away.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” The man cooed.

The man. That voice. Clint. She’d tried to shoot Clint. She tried to shoot the man she loved. If she had any bullets left in her gun, he’d be dead and it would be her fault.

Everything clicked into place and she stilled. The world seemed too sharp. The colors were too vivid. The weight of his arms around her felt crushing as her eyes darted around.

Blood. Bodies. Death. Screaming. Crying children. Noise.

She wanted to vomit.

Natasha was ushering children out through where they had come in. In her ear, she could hear transport was going to be out front within a few minutes. She looked pointedly at Clint and Nicci could feel him nod firmly behind her, his cheek moving against her hair.

Her knees gave out. If not for Clint’s arms around her, she would have fallen to the ground. He lowered her slowly. It dawned on her many of the bodies were her doing. She’d killed them.

“What happened?” Clint asked and she couldn’t give voice to the answer. Instead, she twisted and clung to him and cried until the world went dark.

~~~~~<3

It was late. She sat in the dusty bed of the one room apartment they had been squatting in. Tomorrow, they would leave. Tonight however, Clint was taking his blows from his superiors. He’d probably be hearing about how sideways their mission had gone for at least another hour.

Natasha was likely at his side. Nicci could see them through the ripped up drapes that covered the window. They did their business on the fire escape so that she had space and peace to rest.

Clint ordered her to rest and for a while, she tried. Since she couldn’t sleep, she should have been out there with them, taking the blame and owning up to her mistakes. She couldn’t do that, though. It rolled in her gut, knowing that she was too much of a coward to do own up at them.

With every ounce of care she could manage, she stood up from the bed and moved through the room silently. Unsure of where she was going to go or what she was going to do, she slipped Clint’s hoodie over her. It draped down, covering the tank top she wore and hanging halfway down her thighs. It was long, even on him.

His scent enveloped her, offering her troubled mind some slight comfort as she laced up her heavy boots. For a moment, she considered pulling her waves back but instead she just wrapped her hand around the doorknob.

She wondered without much thought to where she was going. She made her way up the stairs at the end of the hall, climbing flight after flight as she tired to leave the cursed image of bodies on the ground behind her.

Faster and faster, she climbed. Still, the memory of what had happened that day, of what she had done that day was hot on her heels. By the time she crashed through the heavy metal door leading to the roof, she was sprinting. It closed behind her and she didn’t give it a thought.

The cold air felt like needles on her cheeks but she deserved the pain. White puffs of air rose from her mouth and nose with each hurried breath. The air stung her lungs but she deserved that too. Jean clad legs carried her to the edge. A naked palm braced against the rough stone of the roof as she swung her legs over the edge. The stone was cold under her as she sat down hard.

The frost and ice melted into her jeans but she ignored it. Her mind ran away with her, not that it had really been with her for most of the night. Tears welled in her eyes but she fought them back. She had no right to cry.

Nicci was always a woman who believed in justice. Sure, the system had it’s faults, sure it was often cracked in places but at the end of the day, it worked well enough. And she was a part of that system. There were laws, rules to obey. A system of delivering justice.

Yet, she had worked outside of that. She had taken the law into her own hands. She acted as judge, jury and executioner. There was no reason why they had to die. As much as she tried, she couldn’t remember why she took that first shot. Why did she go for a kill shot? She couldn’t remember.

It wasn’t just one person. It wasn’t just one life. God, how many did she kill? At least four, perhaps more. Did they have families? Were all of their crimes worthy of death? Did they get off easy, not being sent through the justice system.

“Careful, the fall would be nasty. Don’t slip off. That’d be a lot of paperwork.”

“And I’ve given you enough of a headache for one mission.” Nicci didn’t even bother to look at him. “How much trouble are we in because of me?”

He let out a heavy sigh as he sat down next to her. “Not as much as you seem to think.”

“That’s good.”

“Talk to me, Nicci.” He bumped his shoulder softly into hers but she still wouldn’t look at him. It was a stab to his heart but he put that hurt away. It wasn’t about him, right now. “Was today your first…”

“Yep.” Large fingers laced through hers.

“Talk to me Nicc.” Squeezing her hand, he refused to let her run away from this.

“What if,” She started, unsure if she wanted to let the thoughts and feelings out of the box she was trying so desperately to shove them into.

He waited patiently. That was what she had fallen in love with first. His quiet patience was something unexpected from someone who was a bundle of energy and always moving.

“What if they didn’t have to die?” She whispered. “What if, what if I killed people that should have lived? It wasn’t my call. It wasn’t my job.”

“You can’t go there.” She didn’t really hear his voice.

“It wasn’t my job. It wasn’t my call. Why did I do it? Am I any better than them?”

He was silent for a moment as her words were strangled off my the tension in her heart. He held her hand as a lump formed in her throat. He so badly wanted to fix this for her but he couldn’t. This was something she had to work through on her own.

“Nicci.” He waited, squeezing her hand until she finally looked up to him and the blue of his eyes captured her. They were stormy and so uniquely his. “Don’t go there.”

“Clint.”

“No.” The strength in his voice stilled her words. “Once you’re in that place, you just… hate yourself so much that.. you can’t imagine how anyone could ever not hate you… I know, because I’ve been there. You did what you did but they were bad people and kids were in danger. You did what you felt like you had to.”

“But I didn’t have to. I didn’t have to keep going.” “Why? Why did you start?”

“I don’t remember.” She admitted. It made her a liability. She’d never be allowed on a high risk mission again.

“You got close- Closer than I wanted you to get. Closer than you should have been but we didn’t have a clear line of sight. You were right, we needed to have a better view of what was going on. I didn’t want you to go alone and tried to follow but I couldn’t fit through the gap you wiggled through. When I tried again, I knocked a paint can over. That started everything. It snowballed into a firefight. You did- God, you did everything right but you were never trained to be at the head of a firefight.”

“I-”

Clint pulled her into his arms. The weight of his embrace shattered the box she had been trying to keep her emotions in. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to him. He rubbed her back and whispered soft words of comfort into the crown of her head. If the strands of blonde bothered him, he didn’t show it.

“We leave tomorrow. As soon as we land again, they’ll have a therapist meet us.”

“Clint- no, I don’t-”

“You do.” There was no judgment in his voice. “It’s standard procedure after any mission that results in deaths- the whole team gets mandatory therapy.”

“Oh.”

Clint let her out of his arms and stood, ignoring the way his knee popped. “Let’s go inside? We can wrap up in blankets and get cozy. Drive Nat a little insane.”

“Okay.” With his help, she stood.

Her legs were stiff and cold but she was only just now feeling it. As they made it toward the door, he never let go of her hand. He was well aware of what a fragile place she was in. There was nothing as shattering as the first kill. He had to suffer through his alone. There was no way in hell he would let her go through it alone.

There was a thump when he wrapped his hands around the door handle and pulled. It moved only enough to make the sound yet he tried again. And again.

“It’s a one way exit.” Nicci whispered. She hadn’t thought to check when she came out onto the roof. She honestly didn’t care if she could get back in at the time. Clearly, Clint didn’t think to check either.

“Awww, shit.” His words broke her. Or perhaps, they put a few of her broken pieces together again as she doubled over, laughing far harder than she expected.

“Better call Nat to save us.” She could hardly get the words out as she tried to control her laughter. He groped his pockets with an increasingly worried look in his face.

“I forgot my coms.”

“Awww, shit.” This time it was Nicci’s turn to say what was very likely Clint Barton’s catch phrase. “Nat will find us right?”

Their eyes locked and another fragment of her heart slipped into place. A smile bloomed on their face and they laughed together. “Eventually.”

~~~~~<3

Everything Tag List: @acoholic-muffin, @theoneanna, @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @j-u-s-t-4, @missaphrodite23, @winterisakiller, @bambamwolf87, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox, @queenoftheunderdark, @wegingerangelica, @myoxisbroken, @faemapfae, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

[summahsunlight]

We Belong to the Stars, CH.2

Word Count: 1930

Paring: Poe/OFC

Characters: Poe Dameron, Leia Organa, BB-8, Kaleb Skywalker (OC), Evelyn Skywalker (OC), Karé Kun, Iolo Arana, Kylo Ren

A Resistance spy has sent vital information about the First Order’s super weapon before his untimely death at the hands of Kylo Ren. Now, it's a race against time to obtain the information before the First Order destroys it. Leia sends members of the Resistance's top squadron in the hopes that they can track the information down before its too late.

Chapter One/AO3

Echo of Hope, somewhere in the Outer Rim

 Kaleb Skywalker couldn’t help but feel the buzz around the Resistance that morning as he made his way to the command center.  After arriving back on the Echo of Hope late the previous night, he hadn’t opened up that much to the Force, too exhausted from his latest recon mission.  Something of importance had happened the night before, otherwise, there wouldn’t be a constant buzz around the cruiser like there was now.  

There had been no time to debrief with his aunt and the other admirals the previous night, therefore, no time for his aunt to let him know what was going on.   Kaleb adjusted his orange flight suit as he stepped into the command center, brightly greeting Kaydel Ko Connix.  “Good morning, Lieutenant. Any chatter we should be worried about?”

Connix tossed him a tense look. “No. But it is only zero-seven hundred hours. Give the First Order the chance to have their morning caf.”

He laughed before tapping on the glass to the situation room. Kaleb threw her a smile over his shoulder and saw her cheeks flush.  “Okay, I’ll give them the chance to have their morning cup of caf… but after that, if they’re quiet I might be a little upset.”

“Very funny,” Connix snapped at him as he stepped inside the situation room.

“I think she’s starting to like me,” Kaleb tossed at Korr.

“Sure,” Korr said, with a shake of her head. “You realize you annoy her.”

Kaleb shrugged his shoulders. “I used to be able to annoy my sister like that; now she’ll land a right hook to my jaw.” He rubbed his jaw for good measure. “I wish I had never taught her how to punch.”

Korr chuckled as the doors to the situation room opened again and Leia breezed in.  The General hugged her nephew before positioning herself behind the table, and Korr stepped forward handing her a datapad.  “The Commander was busy last night, guess he didn’t follow your orders to get some rest.”

Leia smiled as she took the datapad. “I didn’t expect him too; those orders were more of a suggestion.  You saw how tired he looked, Korrie.”  Her brown eyes scanned the information in front of her. “I see that he’s already got those new recruits sorted into squadrons—well, at least he’s efficient and works fast.”

“Who are we talking about?” Kaleb questioned, and then he saw the look that came over his aunt’s face. “Aunt Leia?”

“I went to Mirrin Prime, last week,” Leia informed her nephew.

Mirrin Prime. Kriff. Poe.  Kaleb felt pent up fury bubbling to the surface. Poe had been his best friend, he’d meant more to Evelyn, and he’d turned his back on them. “Why?” he growled out. He could see that his tone of voice made Korr anxious.  “Why would you go there? Did he turn you down again? Swear that he has some damn oath to the Republic and therefore couldn’t possibly leave his post?”

Leia was about to answer him, but it was Poe’s voice that spoke next, startling Kaleb.  “No. I didn’t turn her down this time,” the commander responded, calmly. 

Kaleb clenched his jaw and turned slightly to face his old friend. Poe looked apologetic, but that didn’t change things. It didn’t change how abandoned Evelyn had felt, how hurt Kaleb had been, and he did the only thing that he could think of doing—he punched him, hard in the jaw.  “That was for my sister,” he snarled.

Poe rubbed his jaw, while Leia cursed at Kaleb and Korr looked on in horror.  He put his hand up when Leia was about to go into a rant at her nephew, and he cracked a small grin. “General, we both know I deserved that.” He straightened his shoulders and took a step back from Kaleb. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, nor am I seeking it.  I came here because it was the right thing to do. I only wish I had realized it sooner, Kaleb. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry!” Kaleb shouted at him. “For what? Breaking her heart? Leaving us just after our mother died?  Turning your back on your friends when we needed you the most? What exactly are you sorry for, Poe?”

“All of it,” Poe whispered, spreading his hands out in front of him.  “Every single thing you just said.”

Well, kriff, how am I supposed to respond to that? Kaleb thought, just as the rest of the admirals joined them. He shifted, anxiously on his feet, still not sure what to make of Poe showing up. Of all the people to wander into the fray—it had to be Poe.  

Thankfully it appeared that the others were not privy to his family’s personal history with their newly acquired commander; Kaleb knew that Poe’s position was important, they needed someone with the piloting skills and military savvy to be in charge of the squadrons, and they did not need the higher ups to be distrustful of him based on the drama surrounding Leia, Kaleb, and Evelyn.  Actually, more the drama around Poe and Evelyn, but still… the rest of my family is involved in some way…

To his credit, Poe charmed the others, just like he always did, Kaleb realized. He just had a natural way about reading a room, about flashing a smile at the right time, and by the end of the meeting, he had everyone feeling more hopeful.

Connix raised an eyebrow at him when Kaleb emerged from the situation room. “Who’s the new guy?”

Kaleb clenched his fists at his sides. “Poe Dameron, our new wing commander.”

“You don’t seem thrilled,” she pointed out.

“I… we have… we have a past,” he stated, simply.

“A past?” Connix questioned, surprise in her voice. “What… kind of past?”

“Yeah, the he broke my sister’s heart past,” Kaleb spat, angrily before he stalked off towards the hanger. Instantly he felt bad for spilling the biggest, juiciest piece of gossip since a couple of pilots from Green Squadron had been caught in a storage locker…

… it wasn’t like the Resistance didn’t gossip about who Evelyn dated already, or that she was obviously in love with someone else…

Kaleb had just given them the identity.  It’s not like they wouldn’t have found out, eventually. Just rip the bandage off and get it done and over with.  Except, kriff, Skywalker, you probably just inadvertently put your sister in a bad place, hearing that Poe has joined the Resistance through gossip and not from you, or Aunt Leia.  Nice going, he thought, bitterly as he stepped into the hanger.  He immediately could see that Poe was looking for someone and he swallowed his pride for a moment to approach the new wing commander. “She’s not here.”

Poe looked almost relieved. “Where is she?”

“D’Qar, on the Resistance’s base.”

“Is she…”

“Coming here anytime soon? Not that I know of, unless my aunt has changed her assignment.”

“I know I can’t avoid her forever, but… at least it gives me a little more time to think about what I’m gonna say to her.”

Kaleb sighed, sadly. He suddenly felt bad for punching the commander. “Sorry… about before…when I hit you.”

Poe smiled at him, easily. “I meant what I said—I deserved it.” His smile faded and his brown eyes grew sad. “I never wanted to hurt her, Kaleb. I know that I did a lousy job of that, but you have to understand that my intentions were never to hurt her like I did.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s why I can't stay mad at you,” Kaleb snapped. “I’m not forgiving you…”

“I don’t want you too,” Poe replied. “I didn't come here seeking forgiveness."

“Listen, I never said I wasn’t going to forgive… just… I need more time.”

“Do you think she can forgive me?” Poe asked, so quietly that Kaleb wasn’t sure he had heard him.

He wants to know if she still loves him.  Kaleb looked away for a moment, thinking about how many nights Evelyn had cried herself to sleep after leaving the Republic, how many times she would go into central command after the base on D’Qar was set up, asking after Poe… if he had reached out to her… if he had perhaps changed his mind and joined the Resistance…  “You’re going to have to ask her that yourself,” he answered. He saw the pain in Poe’s dark brown eyes; Evelyn had not been the only one suffering all these years.  “You still have feelings for her,” he sighed.

His fists clenched at his sides and Poe nodded.  “If we’re going to be honest—yes, I still have feelings for her.  You don’t know how many nights I laid in my bunk, thinking about her, thinking about just getting in my X-wing and coming to find the Resistance—but then I thought of my oath, my squadron—and what my father would think.  He taught me to always follow through with my commitment and I foolishly told myself that he would be disappointed in me if I left the Navy for the love of a woman.”

Kaleb frowned. He knew Kes well enough that that would not have been the case; if Poe had just explained to his father why he was leaving, Kes would have understood.  “Kes would tell you that you’re a kriffing moron.”

Poe tossed him a said smile. “He did; when I talked to him the other day, before coming here. He specifically said it’s about damn time you stopped being an idiot, son.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Kes,” Kaleb couldn’t help but laugh. He looked at his best friend, a slight pang in his chest at how easy it was to talk to him. He’d missed Poe too, not in the same sense as his sister, of course, but he’d missed having that confident he could go to whenever he needed to just talk. “Hey, Poe,” he said, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” Poe said, “I finally feel like I’m doing something to combat the First Order.  The Republic is more than happy to just ignore what is going on.”

"How can they just keep ignoring the information we're gathering for them?"

"Half of them are bought and paid for by the First Order is my guess."

So, why is Korrie always going to the Senate to give them updates if they aren't listening? Is it just lip service? Kaleb thought, feeling disheartened. He should have known when the Senate turned a blind eye after the destruction of the Jedi Temple that things were not going to look up for the Resistance.  He sighed, heavily. "Five years ago, you said that it would take something devastating to wake them up.  I had hoped it was the complete annihilation of the Jedi... guess I was wrong."

Poe placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and gently squeezed it. "For them, it was easier to look the other way because it happened so far away from their world.  Something catastrophic is going to have to happen right in front of them in order for them to see that we're right."

Kaleb took a deep breath and moved out from underneath Poe's hand.  He needed to clear his head; his squadron was due out for patrol.  Once he returned from completing his duties he would think about the impending doom he felt in his gut.  Kaleb didn't even need the Force to feel it this time.

[txladyj-blog]

This Time Around Chapter - 20

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 25/?

The next morning brought with it the promise of rain and a mist that had descended over the woodland surrounding Alexandria that made it both hard to track and see anything in the distance. Jess exercised her morning hunt and Walker elimination with extreme caution, although the party the night before had attracted unwanted attention from the undead due to the humdrum of noise and light from Deanna’s house. The numbers of animals were still thinning and she found a need to expand the area she usually covered.

With her mask and hood equipped, she decided to check Enid’s usual spot for any signs of life before she headed further out into the woods. Eventually, she found her conscientiousness paid off when she came across the girl where she was normally sitting, in a hollowed-out tree that doubled up as an ideal hiding spot from Walkers. She was reading and her head snapped up unexpectedly when she was stirred by the sound of Jess cracking a twig beneath her boot. A rookie error when in stealth mode.

Enid quickly began to shove her book back into her backpack and scramble to her feet, using the trunk of the tree for stability. Jess held out her hands to halt her.

“Woah, it’s OK. It’s just me.” She said.

Enid regarded her with suspicion and began to loop her arms back through the backpacks handles, soon settling it just below her shoulder blades. She took an obvious step forwards, but then changed her mind and retreated back to the hollow of the tree.

“I-I was just heading back.” She stammered.

“No, you weren’t.” Jess countered “But it’s okay. You know you can stay within the boundaries we talked about. You’re fine here.”

Enid was partially hiding behind a curtain of long, brown hair and kept her head low, as if she was afraid of someone being able to see who she was, what she was thinking and what she was all about like she wore it across her forehead. Jess could relate.

“It’s not about the boundaries.” Jess stated knowingly with a small nod. “You want to be left alone.”

She didn’t need a reply or a confirmation either way, it was written all over what she could see of the girl’s face. Being outside helped her to feel something. Anything. It made her feel alive. The walls were imposing and prison like, boxing her in and making her complacent when she thought about the world outside.

“I get it. Stay. If you want. This side is clear of Walkers so you’re safe enough. For now.” Jess informed her. “Just, don’t stay out here too long. I’ll be around so I’ll check on you in thirty minutes or so.”

Jess, having laid down the law and done her parenting duties for the day, turned on her heel and set off for the hunt. She was reasonably satisfied that Enid would be safe enough until she returned. After all, the girl was probably out there more than she was when she really thought about it.

“Parker?” Came a small voice from behind her, cutting through the air like a songbird, soft and innocent.

Jess stopped and turned around blinking with the realization that Enid was quite possibly the only one that didn’t know her real name yet. Her absence at the party meant she’d missed the drama and revelations. Jess gently flipped her hood back and nuzzled out of her mask, seeing Enid’s eyes widen slightly.

“Please, call me Jess. Parker is my brother’s name.” She smiled

Enid moved closer, shrugging her black backpack further onto her shoulder. She studied Jess’s features and scanned the rest of her while she had her locked in her sights.

“Why lie about your name?” She asked.

“Same reason you like to come out here and read, all alone.” She answered confidently “Anonymity. Privacy. Peace.”

The young girl seemed to understand and nodded with a small smile. Nothing else needed to be said when there was a mutual comprehension between them both. Jess had been keeping an eye on Enid for as long as she'd lived at the fairground. She needed the freedom of being able to leave for her own sanity and she also had no one behind the walls to tell her otherwise. She spoke to Aaron, who cast a watchful eye over her when he could, but on the outside, Jess made sure she came to no harm. They rarely spoke and when they did it was only when necessary and Enid was grateful for that. In fact, the extent of her gratitude reached further than Jess thought. She inched closer and quickly looked around at their surroundings, Jess remained in place.

“Right. I just wanted to say thanks. For looking out for me.” Enid said sincerely.

Jess was rooted to the spot when the girl loosely wrapped her arms around her middle in a feeble, fleeting but meaningful hug. She found herself smiling as Enid stepped back and a genuine grin was exchanged between them before Enid head off in the direction of the gate.

*

Jess decided to wait until The girl was out of sight, something in her gut told her there was a reason for her lingering until she’d gone. It was proved right when she saw another figure emerge from between the trees from the other direction.

Shards of light from the sun beaming between the leaves illuminated Carl’s Sheriffs hat and Jess sighed to herself. She should have known that where Enid was, Carl wouldn’t be that far behind, despite her earlier warnings for him to stay inside the walls.

She wasn’t surprised when he stopped moving upon noticing her presence, his shoulders sagged and he offered her a strained smile that told her; ‘Alright, you caught me.’ Jess marched towards him and motioned to a couple of tree stumps to her right. Trees were cut down occasionally to allow for the community to make fires for cooking and warmth, thus saving the generators for as long as possible. He plonked down onto the stump, readying himself for what was expected to be a long lecture about following Enid over the walls.

“What did I tell you, Carl?” Jess started.

His defenses went up and he turned to her, his eyebrows knitting together and his face changing to an expression of desperation.

“She’s alone out here! I can’t just leave her!” He cried.

Jess held her gloved hands up to quieten him. Sensing that her intentions were not solely to scold him, he immediately backed down and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I knew she was here. I just spoke to her. She’s gone back over the wall now.” She explained “You’re the one that was alone. You need to be more careful, Carl. Stop following her out here or I’ll have to tell your dad.”

Yes, it was a threat but it was only delivered out of necessity and Jess had faith that Carl would heed her advice, meaning that she wouldn’t have to follow through and inform Rick of his son’s venturing into the woods in pursuit of a girl. What’s more, she hoped she wouldn’t have to explain her knowledge of it for the past few weeks and why she never spoke up in the first place.

“You wouldn’t.” Carl challenged.

“Wouldn’t I?” She smirked in response.

Don’t test me, kid.

“Uggh, don’t be a snitch” He groaned “I just get worried about her, okay?”

“I know you’re worried about her. That’s what happens when you care about someone. But you have to look after yourself too. You have a Family that love you and don’t want to lose you.”

If she had to be honest, she couldn’t say that if she was Carl’s age and in his situation that she wouldn’t have done the same. But Carl was precious, not just to Rick but to the whole group and the community having to come to terms with such a loss didn’t bear thinking about.

“I know. You’re right.” He conceded.

It was the perfect opportunity to bring up the topic of discussion between her and Daryl in the abandoned house. Jess took a few moments to decide which angle to approach it from and shifted her body to face Carl.

“Daryl told me you were asking him what you need to do to be good to Enid.” She said. “You already know this, in your heart. But I guess a little more advice wouldn’t hurt.”

Carl shrugged a shoulder up, if he was anywhere near embarrassed, he wasn’t showing it.

“Yeah, Daryl said to ask you because you’re a girl.”

Jess almost laughed when she remembered Daryl’s reasoning for dragging her back into the fray.

“Yeah, I got that.” She sniggered “OK, I’m going to tell you something and you have to promise not to tell anybody else.”

His face lit up at the prospect of being trusted with information that was to stay between the two of them. First, he’d kept her identity under the radar, now, she was relying on him to keep something else to himself. It’s had become. A strange bonding exercise, being entrusted as the keeper of secrets.

“Yeah. Sure. Of course.” He quickly agreed

“And you have to promise not to come out here alone anymore” she added.

“But Jess-”

“Carl” she warned with a stern voice and a raised eyebrow.

“Ok, fine. I promise.”

Jess took a deep breath and tried to evaluate the consequences her words would have should Carl fail to keep them under wraps. It was a risk, but one she could probably explain away should she need to. It all depended on how she worded what she was about to say

“He doesn’t know it, but Daryl is who you should be using as a good example of how to treat a girl. You should pay attention to how he treats me.”

It had been said and it wasn’t until she heard the words spoken instead of in her head, that she realized just how much she believed them.

“What?” Carl said “You mean, you guys are-”

“-No! Oh, no!” She corrected, a little quicker than desired “We’re friends. Close friends. But he knows how to treat a girl the way she deserves and it’s strange because he’s never had anybody in his entire life to tell him how to do that. He just knows.”

“Well…What does he do?”

Her vision moved out to the trees while her mind worked to filter though her memories of Daryl and every time his actions or words had made her feel like she was worth something. There were a lot and she was sure that if she ever told him he wouldn’t have even known.

“He makes time for me. I think he likes being around me. He laughs with me, teases me, actually listens to what I have to say and if I need him, I know he’ll be there.”

“That sounds nice. For you.” Carl mused.

“Yeah, and it’ll be nice for Enid to have somebody like that because you can bet your ass that idiot boyfriend of hers hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing. If he did, she probably wouldn’t be out here most days on her own” she told him with a wag of her finger

Carl laughed at her take on things “hope you’re right” He mused. “If Daryl is so good to you, why aren’t you his girlfriend?”

A wave of nervous energy washed over Jess and she couldn’t help the strained and somewhat odd giggle that escaped her lips. Knowing her only option to bypass being tangled in a conversation on a topic she really did not wish to discuss was ignoring the question, she slapped her hands on her knees, rubbed over her jeans and got to her feet.

“Carl, you’re never going to get a chance with the girl you like unless you stay inside the walls. Because you’ll be dead. Now, c’mon, let’s get you home” She declared.

With that, she linked her hand under his arm and pulled him upright, frog marching him towards Alexandria and trying to ignore the mocking grin he was giving her.

*

Daryl was sitting in a truck by the gate when Jess managed to smuggle Carl back in without Rick or anyone else but the gate guard noticing. Stealth and secrecy were her expertise and Carl was glad of it when he spotted his father outside the armory in discussion with Carol. He quickly ran behind the houses, evading Ricks focus.

Daryl smoked a cigarette and followed Jess with his eyes as she crept around the perimeter, keeping Carl in the shadows and sending him on his way once he was out of sight. Then, she made her way towards him where he was already enjoying seeing her inside the walls with her hood down and mask hanging around her neck as opposed to hiding her face. She’d braided her hair and the loose strands from the front blew gently in the breeze, it added a delicate and feminine edge to her mysterious and capable front.

He squinted at her in the sun and pushed away his anxiety about what had transpired the previous night. It wasn’t something he’d planned, or even thought about. Rather, it had just happened and he couldn’t say that he regretted the mildly flirtatious things that he’d said. The result was better than he could have anticipated and instead of him needing to awkwardly back track and apologize, Jess reacted in the best way possible; he could even hazard to say that she’d flirted back, not to mention that she’d referred to him as ‘handsome’. Daryl mused that there was indeed a first time for everything and for him, it was being able to steer a conversation with a pretty girl towards something that hinted at a little more than friendship, even if he wasn’t necessarily sure that she was on the same page. The prospect of her having a genuine interest in him in that respect had come from the certainty that she did indeed have a crush on him back at the quarry and that she quite frequently appeared flustered while in his presence. But now he was under no illusions that their flirtatious exchange was likely to be little more than an instance of getting to know one another. After all, she’d probably forgotten all about it by then anyway. He dared to hope for anything more, disbelieving that he was anywhere near good enough for her anyway.

He watched her closely as she crossed the street and headed in his direction, her hand lifted in a small wave and his fingers rippled up on the frame of the open window of the truck, acknowledging her and returning the gesture. She was back in her regular clothes but Daryl would never forget the image of her in a dress with soft curls and wearing a shy and altogether bewitching smile when he’d informed her of his interest in finding out more about her.

“Morning handsome” she greeted in an echo of the night before

She leaned against the open door of the truck and smiled broadly at him. Something had changed in him and the longer his eyes lingered on her the more he wanted to follow through with his idea of working harder to find out the things about her that he didn’t yet know.

“Not sure which nickname I prefer” he expressed “that or ‘Stinky’.”

“‘Stinky’ is now reserved for when you piss me off. ‘Handsome’ is for when you’re in my good books.” Her head tilted to one side and she traced over the edge of the truck’s door with her fingertip.

“I’m in you good books now?” He asked

“You might be.”

“How’d I manage that?”

“Told me I looked nice last night.” Was her honest and surprising reply.

Daryl was shocked to discover that his flirtatious comments hadn’t been brushed off like yesterdays shopping list at all. They were very much still at the forefront of her mind and for some reason he couldn’t quite place, she presented as different to him. She was bolder and for the first time he was able to see a glimmer of a side to her that had hijacked his curiosity more than he cared to admit.

“You did” He reiterated bravely.

“Ooh.” She hummed “You’re determined to stay there, huh?”

“Kind of a good place to be” He mentioned “Better’n you pointin’ guns at me in the woods like a crazy lady”

“Aaaand you just secured your place back in the bad books, Stinky.” She giggled while she his gaze, bravely grinning at him and trying to stop the sparking mass of excitement in the pit of her stomach from making her do something she would regret. From her peripheral vision, she could sense Rick at the other end of the street. He was still at the top of the armory steps, shoving his Python into its holster at his hip.

“You heading out?” She asked Daryl.

“Yeah, found a guy livin’ in the woods a few miles out all by himself. Rick is coming with me to talk to him, see what he’s about” he explained.

The smile stayed on Jess’s face and she nudged her head up, conveying that she understood. Part of Daryl wished he didn’t have to leave, that Rick wasn’t on his way to climb into the truck and venture with him outside of the walls. He wanted to stay, to stay with Jess and spend the day just talking to her. Or, to at least find a reason to spend time in her company.

“Come with us.” He suggested from nowhere. It was driven by impulse, and idea that wasn’t thought through but said regardless.

“Thought you didn’t want me going anywhere that wasn’t local. You put your big, protective foot down, remember? Breaking your own rules, Dixon” She reminded him with an element of smugness.

“Ain’t gotta.” He shrugged. “plus, what’s the point of rules if they ain't for breakin’ from time to time?”

“Daryl Dixon, the eternal rebel.” She smiled with a much better executed wink than her previous effort “I’ll tag along.” The idea of a trip far from the town was an appealing one and not just because of the company she would be keeping. Jess was beginning to get cabin fever after pacing the same paths and looking at the same walls. She left the quarry to be a free bird, to go where she pleased and on occasion, she felt nothing but hemmed in. She needed to be busy and Daryl’s offer couldn’t have come at a better time. She hopped in the back and hung an arm on each of the seats in front while they waited for Rick to arrive. Daryl discarded his smoke and swung his legs into the truck, closing the door and turning his head to see Jess peering at him from her position between the seats.

“So, what’s the deal with you bringin’ Carl through the gates like he’s contraband?” He wanted to know.

“Oh, about that, I caught him outside the walls looking for Enid. I’m keeping an eye on him. Don’t tell Rick”

A slight glance over his shoulder told her that he didn’t like the idea of withholding information from Rick, but some things need not be said to save any unnecessary dramas.

“You tell the kid what ya told me?” he asked.

“Told him what he needs to do, yes.”

“Alright. We’ll see if it works, I guess.”

“It will.” She commented with a firm confidence only to be met with a suspicious side glance from Daryl. “It will!” She reiterated “He’s got excellent mentors.”

“What, me n’ you? Two people who ain't never had a relationship before? Alright, whatever you say.”

Jess playfully slapped at his shoulder and scoffed at his negativity, although she couldn’t deny that he had a point, she wasn’t about to agree with his statement.

“It doesn’t need experience; it needs patience and faith. You’ll see.”

“OK, cupid.” He mumbled. A thin piece of red thread garnered his attention on the dash and he picked it up and began winding it around his fingers as he leaned on the steering wheel. “Whatcha say to him anyways?”

It was the second time he’d made a try for specifics on the subject and his intent felt dangerously thinly veiled. He was interested, curious to know about Jess’s expectations and advice. For a moment, he considered the idea that he probably needed the advice more than Carl did. A quietness from beside him concerned him and he looked to his side to see her lip curled up at one end and a glint in her eye.

“That’s between Carl and I.” She finally replied. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

A short huff from Daryl meant he was dismissing the subject rapidly and started to rummage around in the glovebox, secretly hoping that she would grace him with the truth someday. More than aware that her conversing with him was becoming a lot more than just chit chat and jest, Jess toyed with the idea of asking something a little more direct than she usually would.

“Were you drunk last night?” She questioned.

As if the notion had sparked a fire under him, Daryl shot back to his seating position and frowned at her.

“What? No.” He answered, “Why?”

“Wondering, that’s all. Was thinking maybe you were drunk or it was the dress that I told Aaron was too short but he made me wear it anyway.” As she spoke, her nerves began to rise and it was translated into the flicking of her hands in the air, making her appear to be rambling when she wasn’t.

“What are ya talkin’ ‘bout?’ He queried, turning his body to face her. She blinked at him and sucked her lower lip into her mouth.

Say it, Jess. Just say it. You want to see his reaction.

“Just…trying to figure out why you flirted with me.”

Far from the response she wanted, Daryl slowly twisted back and settled in the driver’s seat. She heard him sigh deeply, a long, drawn out exhalation. Along with the drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel, she figured they would be the only two sounds she would be presented with. Seconds passed, the longest seconds she’d ever encountered and she was on the verge of sitting back in the seat and pretending she never even bothered to ask.

Daryl was at a loss for words. Such a question was totally unexpected and he hadn’t given a single thought to how he might answer it. He could have been revealingly honest and told her he’d flirted with her because he had feelings for her that he couldn’t explain but didn’t dislike. But the point of such an admission would have been absent and so, he resigned himself to the less is more approach.

“That a problem?” He eventually muttered.

“Uh…No.” She replied uneasily.

It may not have been a problem, but it was still an issue of some sort and for Daryl it was enough to make him highly uncomfortable. His face was stoic with a discipline he’d practiced for years, he peered out of the windscreen at the gate guards swapping shifts. Then, movement in the mirror caught his attention. Rick was on his way to the truck. The air was thick with anticipation and as much as he just wanted to keep quiet and not fuel any more confusion between them, he knew he owed her an answer at least. With Rick a few feet away from the back of the truck, Daryl diverted his gaze to the rear-view mirror and found Jess peering back at him innocently and with a hint of worry on her face.

“Was sober n’ it wasn’t ‘cause of no dress.” He whispered just as Rick interrupted by climbing into the truck.

*

Over an hour of fleeting glances in the rear-view mirror and frustration near to boiling point meant Jess had to force herself to swallow the urge to ask a barrage of questions pertaining to Daryl’s absolute conundrum of a statement. Reaching their destination, Jess jumped out of the truck and demanded to be shown the route they were taking on a map. Once she had a clear idea of the direction they were headed in, she surged ahead, not wanting to having to endure any more confusion by meeting Daryl’s eye.

Since when did he flirt with her? Since when did he offer such a non-answer when questioned about something? Since when did everything get so complicated? She needed to know what was happening, because something was and she could feel it in her gut. Something in him had changed and she needed to know what. It was obvious that he’d timed his answer strategically, in the seconds before Rick opened the truck door and climbed inside. He knew she wouldn’t continue probing about such a sensitive subject in front of anyone else and he took advantage of it.

Smart She thought Smart and annoying.

The day was hot. Dry, dusty air howled through the leaves and branches of the woods and Walkers were congregating in higher numbers than Alexandria had to deal with. Rick and Daryl took it upon themselves to put most of them down as the small group moved towards their destination with Jess picking off the stragglers at a distance with her bow. Multiple times she’d heard Daryl call her name during combat with the undead, but every time she ignored him. She could handle a few Walkers with her bow and didn’t need his assistance. What she did need, was an explanation.

As they approached a camp nestled in the bushes, Jess slowed her pace and switched her bow up for her machete, gripping it in her hand until her knuckles turned white. She didn’t know why she was so uneasy about the situation, but a niggling in the back of her mind was telling her to proceed with caution. Rick signaled silently with his hand for Daryl to take the left while he took the right and the three of them crept closer, scoping out the area and listening for any sounds. Jess halted and squinted at the dull light in the trees, thinking she’d spotted movement in the entrance of a ripped and moldy tent.

The wind was knocked from her lungs when Daryl's arms locked around her middle, yanking her body backwards and causing her boots to scuff along the ground. He held her flush against his body while hissing in her ear after she yelped in surprise.

“Shhhh”

“Wha-what are you-?" She tried, but his hand shot up and clamped over her mouth. She could feel his breath on her neck as he held her still, his strength obviously hard to rival.

“Trap.” He breathed in her ear.

Rick quickly shuffled along from the far side and partially knelt in front of them, positioning himself in Jess’s eye-line. He raised an arm and traced along the nearly transparent wire that she had almost activated.

Jess wriggled from Daryl’s grasp and brushed angrily at her clothes. Why hadn’t she seen that? She had one that was identical set up by the gate of the fairground. Her mind had undoubtedly been elsewhere and now she was embarrassed about missing a trap she considered to be child’s play.

“Y’all go ahead” she told them both. “I’m too distracted to lead anymore”

The displeased glare that Daryl received as she passed him was not lost on him and he charges ahead, stepping over the trap with Rick and pushing through the trees towards the tent.

 *

Everyone knows the feeling; when you’re looking at someone and you know that you’ve seen them somewhere before but your mind withholds vital information that would lead you to figure out exactly why that person was already in your memory before you happened upon them.

Daryl and Rick kept their distance and their weapons drawn while the scruffy, toothless man before them rambled about living in the woods for months and how hungry he was. Tilting her head to the side, Jess examined his arms and the rotund shape of his stomach. This man most certainly was not starving and his voice was also ringing a bell. It made her skin prickle and turn cold. She stalked back and forth behind her two comrades, aware that she was not avoiding the leering gaze of the man that was sitting on the floor outside his ruined tent. His clothing was in decent enough condition. Holes in the knees of his pants sewn up and his plain, blue shirt was devoid of the stains and rips that living in the wilderness would create. Something was amiss. Jess stopped walking and adjusted her grip on her machete.

“How many people have you killed?” Rick asked. It was one of three questions that were customary in the recruitment of outsiders that helped to identify a good person from a bad one.

“I dunno… a few. Gotta do what you’ve gotta do, right?!” The man declared before releasing a throaty, loose laugh that seared into Jess’s memory.

I know you.

She charged through the gap between Rick and Daryl and flung her machete at the man, stopping centimeters from his throat. Time suspended around her and for a few seconds, there was nothing but her rage and the flash of fear in the man’s eyes. She was sure Rick and Daryl were speaking to her, probably urging her to back down. But she heard nothing but the thud of her heartbeat in her head.

“Did you find what you were looking for in the city?” She hissed

“W-woah, lady. Relax. I don’t know what you-” he stammered, saliva sprayed from his toothless mouth as he spoke, dotting her blade with spit.

“-are you sure? Because I remember you. That phlegm infested laugh and how you drummed on the metal cage you drove through the streets with a half naked, screaming woman inside.”

Gradually, the sound of Daryl and Ricks voices began to sleep through her rage and she could sense Rick approaching her, holding a hand out towards the handle of her blade.

“What did you do to that woman?” She wanted to know.

“What woman? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He cried

“The woman from the damn cage, asshole! I know you and I know the band of pricks you’re working with! I heard you in the woods, before we killed your buddy. You’re collecting women, and you’re out here as bait, aren’t you?! Poor, starving guy all alone in the woods, begging for help from passers by. Where are the rest of your group?”

The man’s face began to tremble with each escalation of fury in Jess’s voice. Her anger was rising and everything blurred when she bypassed needing an answer to her question and moved her arm back, readying herself to slice his head clean off.

Daryl came out of nowhere, barging into her and knocking her to the floor. Her machete left her hand and scattered across the dirt, skidding to a stop a few feet from her fingers while Daryl pinned her to the floor. Her back hummed with pain from the impact and her shoulders were locked under his weight. She kicked and bucked beneath him, her strangled yells sounding out across the area. She could see Rick lunge towards them and scoop up her blade with his revolver still pointed at the man, who was staring, wide-eyed at the scuffle.

“Let me go!” She growled “I know what he is… fucking rapist bastard! We need-we need to kill him!”

Daryl was shushing her as best he could, but his words were falling on deaf ears.

“Let me go, Daryl! GET OFF OF ME!” She bellowed. But he shifted his grip on her, most of his body now covering her in the dirt. He managed to bring a hand to her face, steadying her thrashing and lowered his lips close to her ear.

“I get it” he told her “I get it, Jess. But you gotta calm down. We gotta be sure”

“Let me go” she snapped

“Can’t do that until I know ya ain’t gonna chop his head off or put an arrow between his eyes. We can’t just kill him.”

“Yes, we can. He’s one of them. The men from the woods when we hid in the stream. You know what they are. I saw him, I looked back and I saw him. They pick up women and use them. I saw them in the city. They had a woman in a fucking cage, Daryl!” Her lungs were straining and her speech was forced from her throat into a stream of rambling. She paused and struggled, snapping her head to the side and locking eyes with the man “Rapist pig!”

“Hey, hey, hey, c’mon. Don’t look at him.” Daryl soothed, gently turning her head back to him. “Look at me.” He peered down at her flushed and enraged face, noticing that the fight seemed to have left her limbs “Look at me. it’s just me n’ you. Please.”

He was so close to her that the sweaty strands of his hair were tickling her face and it occurred to her that if she lifted her head slightly, she could see right down his shirt to the toned landscape of his chest. All at once, the situation became about more than just him keeping her in line.

At least I get to know what it’s like to be under you, Dixon.

The contact wasn't lost on Daryl either, who was becoming starkly aware of the dangers that friction coupled with being on top of an attractive woman held. He forced his mind to the task at hand and tried to remain logical and focused. But the curve of her hip and waist was making things extremely difficult. 

She grit her teeth and wriggled while shooting him an angry look and breathing through her nose. She had to concede soon or the man had a good chance of escape. She needed to change tact and the only way she could do that was if Daryl allowed her to get up from the ground. She began to calm and shifted slightly under him.

“fine.” She spat.

She turned her head and huffed against the dirt, sending a cloud of brown dust up in front of him.

“Slowly. Don’t try nothin’. Please” he requested as he gradually moved back and let her have control back in her upper body. She sat up and he still held onto her legs, still straddling her thighs, untrusting and wary. She brushed the dirt from her hair and clothing and stared at him.

“You alright?” He asked

“You know we have to kill him. He’s not going anywhere near our people” She whispered with a quick glance at the man, who was now being grilled by Rick and staring down the barrel of his gun.

“We can use him. Keep in the cell. He could have information.” He reasoned.

It took all manner of pleading looks before Jess finally gave in and agreed not to hurt the man if Daryl let her up from the floor and when she was finally able to stand, she cleared her throat and dusted herself down, throwing an awkward glance Daryl’s way and finding him imitating her expression. 

Maybe I should kick off again, that was kinda fun. She thought.

 *

After a detailed discussion between Rick and Daryl while Jess paced angrily back and forth behind them, it was decided that the stranger was to be tied up and taken back to Alexandria’s jail where he would be interrogated for information. Daryl was confident in Jess’s declaration that she knew the man and had seen him twice before. If he was a part of a larger group that were a danger to the people of their town, then they needed to know what they were up against.

Throughout the negotiation and with a gun still pointed to his head, the man remained adamant that he had no idea what Jess was referring to and he was, in fact, simply a drifter living alone in the woods.

“You got any weapons?” Rick asked.

“No. Even if I did, you could shoot me in the head right now.” He answered.

Daryl and Rick didn’t believe him any more than Jess did and so it was with great caution that he was lifted to his feet with Jess volunteering to search him and bind his hands at his back. Rick handed her some rope and she stepped around him, lowering her eyes to his wrists which he’d brought around to his lower back. Between his hands, she spotted the unmistakable grip of a pistol tucked deep into his waistband.

“He’s got a gu-”

It was a blur and it felt like her feet lifted clear of the ground. In one swift movement an arm was clamped around her throat, pressing on her windpipe and her other arm was bent behind her back. A cold, circular pressure on her temple made her heart sink. Her chest constricted and fear hammered through her veins. She tried to struggle, to use her feet to stamp on his boots, her one, free hand desperately clawed at his forearm but he didn’t budge.

“Back up or I shoot her.” The man said calmly with a crazed grin on his face that made Daryl’s blood run cold. Both Rick and Daryl took a couple of steps back, Daryl’s face etched with worry. “Weapons on the floor”

“You don’t have to do this.” Rick tried as he and Daryl placed their weapons in the dust. “We’re just going to take you back and talk to you. Let her go.”

The man turned his head and pushed his nose into the side of Jess’s hair. He sniffed loudly, his eyes rolling up and a laugh crackling from his lungs.

“Let her go?” He chuckled. “Why would I do that? She’s a prize find. They don’t come in such good quality after all this time. He’s gonna loooove you, sweetheart.”

“I’ma fuckin’ kill you” Daryl growled.

Jess’s body began to shake with terror and her mind kicked into overdrive at the many horrendous possibilities that could befall her if the man was able to drag her away somehow. She tried to think, tried to formulate and plan and hoped that Daryl and Rick were coming up with something themselves.

Another mocking laugh and Jess could feel the vibration from it rumble through her back. Nausea swept over her and she swallowed hard, her eyes lifting to Daryl who stood, motionless and staring at her captor as if he was imagining tearing him limb from limb. Rick was still trying to talk him into submission, his every attempt met with mockery and an even tighter grip around her neck. Around his prize.

Out of nowhere, Daryl dived at them, his shoulder colliding with the man’s hip and lifting all of them into the air.

BANG

Jess landed with an almighty thud at the same time as the gunshot rang out through the woods. She shook her head as her eardrums ached and her hearing muffled and quickly felt over her clothes for wounds or blood. In her peripheral vision she could see Rick running towards them in slow motion.

Am I hit? Did he shoot me? I can’t feel anything. No, I’m not hit. Then who did he…?

She scrambled up to her knees, spinning around and taking in the scene before her. Everything was still moving in slow motion and her ears were now ringing with pain from the noise. Her mouth dropped open. She was hyperventilating. She blinked rapidly, able to make out Daryl scrapping with the man on the floor. Punches were being thrown and footsteps neared her. She was knelt on something metal; her knee was thrumming with discomfort. She shifted and picked up the strangers gun.

“ON YOUR KNEES ASSHOLE!”

It didn’t even sound like her own voice. It was loud and built of fury and fire and a determination unlike she’d never felt before. The man threw his hands up and climbed up from where he’d been subjected to Daryl raining punches down on him.

“Woah, lady. Everything was goin’ just fine until ya boyfriend here jumped in.” He commented. “We was just gonna have ourselves a little trip before I delivered ya to the big guy. It ain't nothin’. Just give this up n’ nobody else has to get hurt. We’re all just trying to survive, right? Whatever ways we know how? Why don’t ya just put down the gun? Huh? Sweetheart.”

Rick, who was also pointing his gun in the same direction, noticed Daryl roll onto his back and clutch his thigh. Strained grunts and cuss words filled the air and Jess put two and to together. They exchanged a glance that conveyed Jess would be the one to hold the assailant at gunpoint while Rick dashed over to Daryl and began applying pressure to his wound.

He shot Daryl.

Tears filled her eyes and her vision blurred. The man’s face distorting through a glassy view and her breath suddenly becoming incredibly difficult to pass through her lungs. Intermittently, her eyes flickered over to Daryl on the floor, losing blood quickly as the crimson pool in the dirt beneath him grew larger. Rick partially obscured her view as he tended to him, using his knife to carve off a part of his sleeve to double it up as a tourniquet.

“Daryl?!” Jess yelled, ignoring the pleas from her target who was still waffling on in front of her and trying to talk his way out of being shot in the head. “Daryl?! Are you Okay?!”

“Uggghh…yeah. M’okay.” Came the unconvincing reply. Her hands were shaking around the gun. The gun that she’d failed to check for ammo. She quickly examined the magazine, satisfied that she wasn’t being taken for a fool. Her blurred vision coupled with Rick’s body positioned in front of Daryl meant that she still couldn’t see much and she began to panic.

“RICK?!” She bellowed but was met with nothing. Her labored and shallow breaths sounded ten times louder than usual and she felt like everyone could hear the terrified rhythm of her heart pounding in her chest. “RICK?! ANSWER ME!”

“Yeah?” He shouted back.

“Tell me the truth, is Daryl lying to me?”

At her feet, the man was giggling maniacally and Jess was trying her hardest to ignore the uncomfortably unstable way in which he was conducting himself in such a situation.

“It’s funny.” He chucked “This is all pointless. You’re all going to die anyway! Ain't nothin’ but the hell down there and the hell up here!”

“Shut up” Jess snapped. “Rick?! I need an answer here!”

“Yeah. He’s hit. Got him in the thigh.” Rick eventually called over his shoulder to the tune of Daryl’s painful cries. Jess’s stomach flipped.

“Tell me that bullet hasn’t hit his femoral artery” She told him.

“No, I think it missed it.” He replied, straight away this time. “You alright over there?”

“Yeah. I got this.” She affirmed.

Jess messily swiped at her eyes with her sleeve, clearing her vision somewhat and allowing her to see the blackened rings under the man’s eyes, his toothless void of a mouth twisted into a sickening grin and the rapid swelling of his cheekbone that must have been courtesy of Daryl. She tilted her head to the side and shifted her weight evenly over both feet. Both of her hands gripped the gun and she sniffed away her tears, finding some semblance of strength that had suddenly been mustered from some part of her being. It didn’t need to be thought about, she knew what she had to do.

She lowered the gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The deafening noise ripped through the trees.

“Jess!” Daryl yelled, quieted when the man’s piercing screams sounded up from in front of her as she stood over him and watched him grip the bleeding, ragged wound in his thigh. He squirmed and writhed in agony. Her face was blank and her actions were fueled by a need for a violent revenge. Jess had never been a violent person and recoiled at any type of physical force. But it was the end of days, humanity was reduced to a ‘them or us’ mentality and when it came to those she cared about; it was a different. No one shot Daryl and got away with it. She slowly crouched in front of the bloodied stranger, hoping that he was feeling even an ounce of the torture that Daryl was experiencing.

“Shh” She hushed gently. “Shh. It’s going to be alright. You’ll see” The man gradually raised his head to her, his face revealing the extent of his pain. She held the gun up to his temple, choosing the angle so she could escape being splattered with blood. It was strange how her logic was working when everything else was a mess.

“No. No. Please” he cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Shh” she cooed. One of her hands sought his, taking hold of his bloodied fingers and tenderly rubbing her thumb across his skin. “It’ll be alright” She repeated. “You’ll see.”

BANG.

*

Bright sunlight was the first thing Daryl saw when he woke. He squinted in discomfort and turned his head away from the window. His head was heavy and his stomach was empty. His throat was dry and there was a dull numbness to his entire body that he thought was consistent with the time he’d raided Merle’s stash and taken his Oxycodone. But he didn’t remember taking anything. In fact, he didn’t remember much at all. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling his lungs tighten and his limbs tingle. Just how long had he been asleep?

Moving his head back, he scanned the room, alarmed to find that it was not the usual place he lay his head. He recognized it to be the infirmary and like a floodgate had opened, everything came rushing back to his memory. The woods. The stranger with the gun. Pinning Jess to the ground. The gunshot wound to his leg. Jess putting an end to it all.

Jess. Where is she?

He grunted and screwed his face up when he tried to move. It dawned on him that he was actually under the influence of strong painkillers that were doing a good job of masking the pain, but not managing to take it away altogether. His leg spiked with agony and he balled his hands into fists as he raised his head from the pillow and noticed the still form of Jess, sitting by the side of his bed with her head resting on her arm on the mattress. Her dark hair was covering her face and her hand was draped over his forearm. He swallowed; his throat drier than the Mojave Desert when he tried to speak.

“J-Jess?” He croaked.

She stirred and let out a small moan, adjusting her position on her bent arm. Daryl smiled at the sight, he didn’t want her to see him in his current state at all, but in truth there was no one else he wanted to see in that moment. He glanced down at her hand delicately placed over his forearm and rotated his wrist, bringing his elbow back and catching her hand in his. He could have stayed there like that for hours. With her fingers wrapped in his grip and her sleeping on his bed. But he needed to know if she was okay and so, he squeezed her hand.

Jess shot up and jerked her hand away from him, her chair scraped against the infirmary floor and her wild eyes checked the room before landing on Daryl. She brought her hand to her chest and caught her breath.

“Oh my god. You’re awake.” She sighed.

She ran a hand through her hair and blinked the sleep from her eyes. Daryl noticed her clothing, a far cry from what he was used to seeing her in. She wore plain black jeans and a white T-shirt. No logos, no emblems or superhero symbols.

“How long ya been here?” he rasped.

“Since we brought you in.” She said “I haven’t left this room.” He furrowed his brow and tried to comprehend exactly how long she meant and wondered how she’d managed to change if she’d not left the room. “Eric brought me some clothes. I got changed while you were sleeping.” She explained, like she could read his mind.

“How long have I been here?” He wanted to know.

“Almost forty-seven hours.” She yawned, covering her mouth and propping her head up on her elbows, using the mattress beside him as a table.

“Jesus.” He grunted. No wonder he couldn’t properly feel his limbs.

She rose to her feet and hovered her hands over him as he struggled to sit up. When she tried to offer her assistance, he quickly held up a hand and shook his head, wanting to complete the simple task himself.

For a moment, Daryl pondered over who had undressed him when he looked down at his bare torso and his arm hooked up to a drip as he sat there, shirtless and slowly dragging the covers up as far as they would go. It had, in fact, been Jess and Denise that had teamed up to get him into bed, aided by Rick, who did the heavy lifting due to Daryl passing out from blood loss and becoming a dead weight.

Denise, who was trained as a surgeon but ended up in psychiatry before the turn, had panicked when it was revealed just how much blood loss she was dealing with. Daryl’s blood type being a complete mystery to everyone in the room only served to heighten her worry. It was Jess that volunteered to donate, quickly announcing that she was O negative and therefore able to donate blood to anyone. She was quickly hooked up and gave as much as she could without collapsing, eventually falling asleep in the chair next to Daryl’s bed and moving only to explain the drama to Aaron and Eric, who brought her clothes and food and tried unsuccessfully to coax her back to the comfortable, warm, spare bed at their place.

“How are you feeling?” She questioned.

“Kinda lit” He admitted

“That’ll be the Oxy” She replied with a quick giggle. “The bullet missed your femoral artery but you’ve got some damage to repair and it’s going to take time. Denise got the bullet out but she says you’ll need physiotherapy to build the muscle strength back up in your leg."

“Mm. Great. This Oxy’s some good shit. You know where she keeps it?”

She didn’t bother to answer, only throwing him a stern but amused look under a raised eyebrow. Sitting back down in her chair, she was aware that the cushioned seat had now become flat and hard from hours of being compressed by her tired body. She really needed a bed for a couple of hours and a belly full of decent food. But leaving Daryl when he’d just woken up was not an option. She briefly reached up and checked his drip was still working, looking over the connections in the wires and gently turning his arm to check the valve. Feeling him staring at her, she met his eye and sat back against the backrest.

“You good?” He asked.

She didn’t know the answer. On the one hand, she was filled with overwhelming relief that he was alive and would live to carry on his constant mockery of her. On the other, she was horrified at the very real possibility that should the bullet had hit his artery, she’d have been preparing to attend his funeral instead of staring him down when he hinted at wanting more Oxycontin.

"Fine" She squeaked.

She cursed herself internally when she couldn’t hold her tears back. Like a freight train, the events of the last two days had hit her all at once and it was wholly overwhelming. Salty drops flittered down her cheeks and she lowered her head, hoping that Daryl was high enough not to notice.

“Don’t look fine.” He commented.

Typical. Turns out he’s not high enough to overlook me being an emotional wreck.

“Don’t. Don’t do that” He urged.

She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and sighed quietly.

“Jess” He cooed, his tone of voice quieter and soothing “He’s dead. It’s over.”

“He shot you” she exclaimed abruptly, “I won’t have…have anyone hur-he shot you. It’s- no. Just no. I won’t have it.”

She wrung her hands in her lap, irritated by the sound of her blathering.

“Been shot before. Takes more than that to kill me” Daryl pointed out.

She managed to look up and meet his eyes, smiling at him tearfully and fiddling with the corner of the blanket on the bed. She froze when he subtly but very deliberately slid his hand across the sheets and touched her fingers to interrupt the twiddling of the blankets hem. He lightly rubbed back and forth over her index and middle fingers. Her skin ignited and she gazed down at his bloodstained hand over hers.

“What are ya doin? You actually cryin’ at me right now?” He asked.

“No” She lied with a croak.

“Stop this now, alright?” He told her. “C’mon, don’t be no crybaby, s’posed to be a badass.”

Jess couldn’t help but laugh. She was discovering fast that playful, well-meaning jest was actually customary to his personality, he was just very selective with whom he chose to share it.

“No, that’s you. Mr. Indestructible.” She chuckled with a couple of sniffs.

“Hey.” He uttered, noting her gaze drop again and forcing her to look up at him with a slight squeeze of her fingers. “Thanks for shootin’ that prick. I’d have done it myself but I was-”

“-Dealing with a hole in your leg?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll kill anybody that tries to hurt you.” She revealed without thinking. Too terrified to look at him for fear of him thinking her comment strange and dramatic, her lips parted and she fixed her vision down into her lap.

Oh, lord. Apparently, I’m just broadcasting everything in my head now.

“Same.” He mumbled unexpectedly.

The eye contact that transpired between them following such a deep confession was unlike anything either of them had felt before. It was an intense, lingering connection in which the rest of the room seemed to fade into a vignette effect and there remained only the two of them. Time became irrelevant, it could have been hours that passed and neither one of them would have noticed. It was only when a noise from the door snapped them out of their trance that Jess flinched and swallowed hard. Now slightly uncomfortable, but determined not to show it, Daryl simply observed her shift needlessly in her seat. It was quite the moment to him and one that meant so much without saying anything at all.

Masterlist

tagging as requested

@lilred254​ @woundmetender​

[nozomijoestar]

Transcribed and formatted for readability the master thesis between me and @wlwclem​ on the nuances to NaraTrish together and as individuals being why we love it and respect it not being CompHet- we spent way too much Big Brain Energy on it to not share 

tw: brief mention of F-Slur when giving an example on toxic masculinity being bullshit, sexuality is briefly discussed in a non sexualizing way and in no graphic detail

*insert IM TRISH KIN BUCCIARATI joke here*

epickinnienaranciaYesterday at 11:45 PM

JDDBSJDBD YES bc ofc she gotta be Reassuring but at the same time his Himboism Knows No Bounds One of the lines in EoH u can give her is “Go get me an Italian Vogue magazine too while you’re at it” and I’m like. Queen

nozomijoestarYesterday at 11:46 PM

JDHDHDF BDE Narancia whipped Narancia stands no chance

epickinnienaranciaYesterday at 11:46 PM

OH FOR REAL one of HIS victory lines is something about getting all the stuff for her lmao And this is like even if she isn’t in the battle, Always Thinking Of His Queen

nozomijoestarYesterday at 11:50 PM

Trish decides to test the limits of this and his ability to recognize them by asking for impossible or nonexistent items/feats and when he continues to try for her without question she realizes she has too much power and must restrain it fjdjjdjfjf Can't turn into Dad

epickinnienaranciaYesterday at 11:51 PM

JDBDBSJS The color palette changes while she has an inner monologue while she watches him try to make her happy

nozomijoestarYesterday at 11:53 PM

"Oh my god Bucciarati was right...he's too loyal for his own good I need to stop even if it's a little fun"   Meanwhile Narancia: growing more and more frustrated with himself for perceived failure to someone he loves

epickinnienaranciaYesterday at 11:55 PM

She stops for the most part but does it every so often bc it’s cute

nozomijoestarYesterday at 11:56 PM

Lucky to have a freak like dat I feel like the only thing that can counter this self defeatism Narancia can get (bc his younger childhood...ofc he's fucked up and anxious and paranoid abt not being enough or abandoned) is Trish having to open her own repressed self up and love the shit out of himLike those reassuring lines she has in EoH and her moments in the anime/manga Bruno fucking does it as his father figure and Narancia admits it gives him strength

December 19, 2019

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:04 AM

Yes, he feels like he has to prove his worth and like he’s worth having around otherwise he’s useless, i def feel like he would not like talking about the stuff that happened in the past with everyone bc he would feel ashamed and stupid or st, he needs to be told You Are Enough and her to open up too so they can lean on each other

nozomijoestarToday at 12:12 AM

Honestly no jokes for a second I feel like this is also abt breaking toxic masculinity bc it's fucking Italy in the early 00s just out of the 90s...it was RIFE rifer than even now with that shit like in much of the world then too, the idea that a boy becoming a man and men in general need to strictly follow dumbass self harming rules

 especially abt not opening up and only having real priorities for earning money, honoring family, and procreating as much as possible whether it's marriage making a family or "having sexual conquests" in promiscuity, anything outside of this bullshit image can't be tolerated and you might as well be a woman or "a fag" if you don't assert some fictional narrative of trying extremely hard to have power in everything bc that's all that matters is the ridiculous idea of Alpha Males applied to humans 

Narancia being a 80s- 90s kid with the childhood he had did not give him much fighting chance at all in this context and time period  esp just bc he happened to be born with a dick and thus saddled with these harmful expectations society made that could've only further repressed his recognition of not beating himself up and his own emotional needs on top of EVERYONE ever betraying him Where was he supposed to go? He can't go anywhere unless he meets Bruno

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:18 AM

yes i agree..... like, males being looked down upon for opening up, being societally forced to shoulder the burdens and “man up” and just deal with it and fix everything. And then already having a toxic support system with his “friend” betraying him and his dad Sucking Major Ass, all he’s been taught is deal with it but hasn’t been given the tools to know how, and if Bruno didn’t meet him he honestly would be so stuck, what person (esp in that time period) is going to go out of their way to help an uneducated young male?

nozomijoestarToday at 12:20 AM

Even if it tragically ends with his death in canon I feel like the time he spent with Bruno's bois, Giorno, and Trish was huge in making some of that crack little by littleBc he has moments where you see how sweet he actually is, his "real" personality if you will underneath all the unresolved anger when he's with ppl he sees love him and give him hope When Giorno said No One Is Going To Hurt You Anymore that just made me cry harder

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:23 AM

Yes! Like, ofc he gets angry, has unrepressed rage and reactions to things, he hasn’t had any type of emotional support in SO long and it’s not like it’s 100% fantastic in that regard with buccigang (which don’t get me wrong they are family but they are still in an aggressive gang and go off and give each other lots of shit)-YEAH AND THE FUCKIGN PLANT GROWING TOO IM

nozomijoestarToday at 12:25 AM

Trish is legit I think the one person aside from Giorno who would treat him without even the gang's aggressiveness Narancia is my fav in VA even if Bruno is the best written VA character bc he's me, this kind of shit in my life is why I developed PTSD undiagnosed since my childhood that only kept getting worse until only this year have I gotten any true help I know exactly how he feels 

Esp when you think your whole life exists to serve others never yourself NaraGio shippers I see y'all argument even if I don't follow it tbh, Gio was again the only one besides Trish to consistently care for Nara in day to day and when he was in danger and esp during the Clash and Talking Heads fight Gio was the one dude present like No Narancia It's Ok Please Tell Me What's Wrong You're Clearly Stressed

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:31 AM

yeah although i haven’t experienced it i can still empathize and try to understand, i think there’s so many layers of protection and walls that most people never truly look past it to see the root cause or true self YES that fight was so frustrating bc they were all like Narancia stop being an idiot when something was clearly wrong and he was obviously in distress!!

nozomijoestarToday at 12:32 AM

Also Gio was the only one who first asserted that No, Narancia did the right thing in fighting Formaggio

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:33 AM

Yes and with that whole interaction the gang often uses Narancia as the scapegoat essentially and just give him shit for every little thing without trying to understand his POV

nozomijoestarToday at 12:33 AM

The Clash fight tbh I feel was an ass pull set up to give Narancia his big bad ass loyalty proving moment even if it's a great fight that beginning part is...only the Trish and Gio interactions rly make sense fjdjdjI wish him and Giorno hung out more or I guess more like talked more bc you can't rly hang out when you're getting assassinated every day hfgdg

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:36 AM

Yeah hdkdb, even with Fugo, even tho he found him and brought him to Bruno, he still calls him a dumbass, stabs him with a fork and shit, and then with Mista even tho I feel like they are Like Bros, he destroys Narancia’s radio for no fucking reason and also has a pattern of taking shit Narancia paid for without paying him backI def agree with that, I feel like Giorno interactions were lacking in that there really weren’t many one on one meaningful things so it’s hard for me to grasp his personal headspace and relationships a lot of the time

nozomijoestarToday at 12:37 AM

However to be a little more fair to the Bucci gang the manga version has Narancia trying a lot lot more to get their attention in logical ways that unfortunately Talking Heads completely ruins, he tried writing to let them know what was happening and TH warped the text into him saying vulgar things bragging abt his dick being a powerful Stand

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:38 AM

Yeah I was gonna add I wasn’t sure if the manga had other stuff, tbf

nozomijoestarToday at 12:38 AM

I think this is also Shounen Tropes of the 90s at play too the "child" character was often written as the comic relief dumbass Narancia suffers it so it does add a layer of Not Good to his relationships The trope still exists tbh Anime cut out him writing I assume bc it's too sexual It's already pushing it having him whip it out and piss in front of everyone jfhdhd

epickinnienaranciaToday at 12:41 AM

Yeah you right, it’s like the i want it to be that deep meme, like Araki obvi doesn’t have him only as comic relief but if he delved into his character more there would’ve been so much more that could’ve been done and shown YEAH DJDBDJDJF I WAS SURPRISED THT WAS ANIMATED

------------------------[ CUT INTERMISSION ]-----------------------------

nozomijoestarToday at 12:51 AM

Ok but to get back on track with where I was trying to go even opening this all up is how it's critical to NaraTrish in a mutually beneficial way

nozomijoestarToday at 1:01 AM

Nara is no incel he's a King obvs but he is also at heart a confused scared kid uncertain of anything in the world beyond what's closest in his grasp and without someone actively believing in and validating him he can't fully achieve awareness of healthy dynamics and even the problems within the ones he already has with his gang and Bruno- Trish doesn't have to babysit him and be the stereotypical The Woman Only Supports And Gives Up Her Body bc thats never her and couldn't be her and Narancia wouldn't make her that way bc even when he kinda touches on that (giving in a bit to the idea that men are the main protectors of women) when he gets too fixated on wanting what he thinks is for her wellbeing he does snap out and acknowledge he's wrong bc 

Trish by her independent nature and tremendous Will proves those stereotypes are bullshit, not even factoring in their first meeting as already making a huge impression on his beliefs of what girls can do- Trish knowing how to challenge him by staying true to herself yet having the compassion to help someone suffering and with fewer chances from birth than she had would not only win him over but give him something even Bruno can't, self sustaining confidence, bc Trish isn't part of a chain of command, she's just a girl in love with a boy who wants him to be happy and that concept while foreign to him for so long once it kicks in he could actually learn to build himself For himself and For someone who wouldn't use him for some greater schemes or dirty work, 

I love Bruno ok he's one of the best characters in anything ever but his flaw in his ability to help motivate ppl is tied to that fact that he's bringing them into a dangerous strict order of command to Serve not entirely in a place/way that lets them just be themselves and realize organic loving relationships with anyone and themselves SO

epickinnienaranciaToday at 1:05 AM

they’re healing...... being shown love without a position of authority or any obligations is so powerful for his growth

nozomijoestarToday at 1:25 AM

That all being said, Everything Trish does he's paying attention to, she keeps him alive during the Grateful Dead fight not because she needs him to serve for a cause ( a cause might I add even Bruno the near saint he is was ready to let Nara go right then and there for bc death is in the job description) but because she doesn't know him well yet and shit he even swung a knife at her when they first met over who was in the bathroom, but he's a person suffering and in pain and to let him die even if it's Expected Of The Mission is garbage to her even if she respects Bruno down the line as a father compared to fucking evil Diavolo,

 Trish constantly goes out her way to do these things for Nara bc Trish instinctively knows he's the most vulnerable mentally and her sense of compassion and justice (likely something Donatella made sure to instill in her before her death by cherishing Trish and spoiling her even as a single mother) will not stand to not help someone when she could've- and he reciprocates it even if in disbelief bc he can tell This Person Is Safety, This Person Is Like Me Yet Not, A Better Me I Want To Be, by the time he's about to die someone with his fragile mind was actually gaining conviction about taking control for himself on his own terms and he would risk even those chances to defend the person who actually helped him arrive there (along with Gio) in the first place, 

I think by the end of his life he rly did love her or start to, it being romantic or not is up to individual interpretation to which you know I'm in the romance camp, point is he found someone who truly taught him strength without him fully realizing it and did so without belittling him, if anything instead treating him only with love and kindness and patience (not being a door mat for him, but like, not treating him like ass like everyone else has their moments of either), I think anything Trish asks of him, this is all why he's so willing to do it on top of feeling deep  empathy, I've written in my character notes as well that like this goes even further to sex being one of the most intimate things there is, like I kno we jest and jape abt Teens Doing Dumb Shit bc we're clowns 

but the sheer vulnerability you have to have esp in a first love situation to be willing to go through with that for the first time ever takes a lot of trust and courage, aspects I think Trish was able to give him and would solidify in asking something seen as so important for many people from him, the headstrong Trish wants to be vulnerable for him and the slowly confidence boosted Narancia wants to accept that faith and trust and love and exchange it with his own of the same for her, it's not horny teens 100% it's two hurt but hopeful kids on the verge of having to be adults wanting to find another piece of identity in how they are with someone else, obvs it will forever be offscreen bc pedos deserve to be skinned alive 

I just feel that the components that would fuel them to do something teens try to do to feel more adult and bc hormones are a lot more based in growing maturity than pure lust, I think this is what I fully mean by Writing About Teens Exploring Love And Sexuality; Not Fetishizing And Reveling In Showing The Act Itself Especially For Disgusting Titillation, I think this and not explicitly writing the sex are the difference between child porn and creating realistic characters

epickinnienaranciaToday at 1:36 AM

Yeah, it is going to sound like a dumb take but the topic of sex and sexuality itself is not inherently sexual, by which I meant it isn’t the focus — there’s SO much more to it and in this case especially it can be like the ultimate sign of love, trust, intimacy, compassion, trying to make your way as a teen through a harsh world, like I can go on. Nasties Dont Interact but the shying away from the mere mention of it in a non-sexualized context is unrealistic. 

 Yes The Grateful Dead fight i 1000% agree is so important in both his personal growth and the development of their relationship, I think it’s an important parallel that he is dumbfounded about her going to such lengths to keep him alive without the sense of duty/obligation versus Trish’s feelings and outbursts of confusion on why Bucciarati and his gang even cared about her, protecting her to the point of death being on the line.(edited)

epickinnienaranciaToday at 1:44 AM

all these elements of complication and similarities between their characters is why ive gotten so passionate about both them and their relationship (whether romantic or platonic it’s really fucking strong and good), the story of two kids making it through adversity, learning to unshoulder their burdens and lean on others, the Found Family™️, and learning and growing together is just so much more fucking deep and complex than the mainstream bs that exists. 

now im not any type of elitist hipster but esp in male and female relationships portrayed in what feels like basically fucking everything are just like CompHet Bullshit and they’re together bc They Are Just Supposed To Be (not to mention the toxic masculinity culture within that where the women barely have character arcs and are just seen as objects anyways) But what I’m trying to say is that in this the relationship is real and it feels earned in a way that just isn’t there in so much other media out there(edited)

nozomijoestarToday at 1:48 AM

Honestly if we tweak this just a lil more this is basically Guts and Casca One of the greatest and saddest romances ever written

epickinnienaranciaToday at 1:48 AM

i still have berserk bookmarked just haven’t gotten around to reading yet

nozomijoestarToday at 1:48 AM

If VA was a Seinen it's p much Berserk In Italy Also big brain...galaxy brain...everything you said was a fact signed sealed and delivered(edited)

epickinnienaranciaToday at 1:51 AM

Wow we’re actually in sync and using the brain cell to its fullest extent tonight

nozomijoestarToday at 1:51 AM

When I say she's his world and he's hers this is what I mean, not comphet hdhdhfhYEAH HFHDG

epickinnienaranciaToday at 1:52 AM

(also my phone autocorrected “and” to “ANF” bc of twdg..... it also sometimes changes it to “AMD” bc I work in technology. My Phone Knows My Interests Are More Important To Me Than One Of The Main Parts Of Speech. Iconic)YESSSS they’re just SO GOOD there’s so much to articulate!

nozomijoestarToday at 1:55 AM

She was his Queen, and god help anyone who disrespected his Queen

epickinnienaranciaToday at 1:55 AM

JDBDHE SHIT THE FUCK IP DKDBEBDJFBBD

nozomijoestarToday at 1:56 AM

Buy my silence $8000 a month

[devilsnwitches]

SSDD - Ch3 - Into the Fire

AO3 <Link - Written by Me & @lynxtigerwritings

Tags = AU Canon-Divergent / Canon-Typical Behavior

Pairings = Vergil-OFC / Dante-OFC / Nero-Kyrie / V-OFC / Nero-V

Note - READ LOVE’S SACRIFICE BEFORE THIS CHAP IF YOU HAVEN’T - Pairing V/OFC

“Are you shittin’ me? Three to four months and you guys haven’t been attacked yet? What the actual fuck?” Was the first thing Yvette said once she and Charlotte got the full story.

Charlotte had to agree with Yvette. Demons should have been swarming them the moment the deal had been made. They should’ve been prime targets for any and all sorts of attacks. That demon either had the patience of a saint, or there was something more at play. She looked over at the blue-black bird that was resting on V’s shoulder. Golden-beady eyes were steadily watching her, assessing.

The light bulb came on quick in her head. There was indeed a reason why demons weren’t attacking this kid, and it had nothing to do with the deal. “You’re Mundus’ familiar.” She turned to Yvette. “The fallen King of the Underworld. The throne is still up for grabs.”

“Well ain’t that a plot twist,” Yvette whistled, “Damn, V, you go man.”

V glanced towards his room where he’d done the ritual all those months ago. Yvette’s praise felt...good, in a way, but he bowed his head to her. "‘He who holds to himself a joy, doth the winged life destroy’." Taking every precaution had been what gotten him this far. At least that was what he liked to believe. “Xina told me you had...advice for me.”

Charlotte let out a long, slow breath. Her eyes wandered. His tattoos, the circles under his eyes, and how he held himself. It was clear that this took energy. She didn’t know what price he paid, but she didn’t doubt it was a heavy one. She glanced over at Alexina, who was quiet. They were both soft-spoken, good-hearted kids. She inhaled sharply and let it out again. “Kid...no.” She shook her head, “V.” She looked at him. His eyes were fierce. They told a story without her having to ask for a word. “I’m gonna be blunt and honest with you because I respect you. You’re one of the few people that I’ve sat with, had a conversation with, and know for a damn fact that my sister and I might not get out of here alive if we went up against you. That’s saying something coming from a seasoned witch of thirty years or so. Whatever demon you made a deal with...they fucked up. They weren’t expecting you, but they also won. Whatever price you told them you’d pay...and believe me I can take a gander...they got more than what they bargained for. What that means, is that your life is no longer going to be easy. I’m not talking about the pain and the familiars. I’m not even talking about demons coming after you. There are people who’d want exactly what you can do. That’s not to say you can’t live a normal life. You’d have to fight for that. What I am saying is that...your new normal isn’t going to be fun and games.”

The silence was heavy and she knew V was hanging on to her every word. He was an observer. He looked and listened, a lot more than most people. Griffon didn’t seem to be too thrilled with the thickness of the conversation, ruffling his feathers and trilling. He didn’t like her very much and she didn’t blame him. Lysander reputation went far into the Underworld. Just like Dante’s. Soon to be this kid. “My advice to you, V, is to learn what you got. You can harness demon energy, summon things from the Underworld, and make it your bitch. That’s not easy. Not everyone has that kind of willpower, that kind of spirit. You’re both a hazard and the most dangerous person I know. I know the Sparda brothers. They’re as dangerous as you and they’re older.”

V looked down at his hand, examining the tattoos that only barely went over his knuckles, “‘I am a series of small victories and large defeats, and I am as amazed as any other that I have gotten from there to here’.” Glancing up again he knew for sure that Alexina and himself wouldn’t continue to be so lucky to be left alone. He had read about Sparda, same as any other who was smart enough to learn history. Of course he had thrown himself headfirst into that world. “Is there anyone that can teach me? Reading will only get me so far. If I have this power, I might as well put it into practice.”

“Now we’re talking!” Griffon cackled.

Charlotte looked at Yvette, a slight head-tilt and a raised brow. There were plenty of people. They could do it, at the very least get him on the basics, a foundation. Dante and Vergil could do it as well. Demon hunters and half-demons as they were, they had been around the block. She wasn’t sure if she should lump Vergil there, honestly. Nero and Kyrie were another factor. They were part of the Order a long time ago.

Her lips pursed. They had options, but the question isn't quantity. It was quality. There was no one that’d teach him summoning, he would have to learn through trial and error. “If that’s what you want to do, then we’ll help you find someone that can,” Charlotte said after a moment. “Dante has a network of people, I’m sure there’s bound to be someone he can recommend to you to help. If not, I’ll take you.” She looked at V squarely. “If, of course, I’m up to your standards.” She glanced at Griffon. “I already know how you feel about me, chickie.”

“Oh, you son of a-” He was about to fly towards Charlotte but was stopped by V’s hand and he settled himself back down, shaking out his feathers in a miffed sort of fashion. Alexina’s lips were curved slightly, looking away from them as she hid her amusement.

“Then that is what I will take,” V nodded to Charlotte, “I appreciate you offering to take me under your wing.”

“If you’re interested in spellwork and seeing if you can turn your poems into spells, I’m totally down for helping you out there. Char does the hexes and the symbols and stuff, I’m the Latin person.” Yvette beamed proudly.

Now that did sound like an idea. It amused him that the one who seemed the brashest was the one who could speak the elegant language of Latin. “I will take that into consideration, thank you.”

Charlotte leaned back looking a little on the exhausted side all of the sudden. She could already tell that she was going to be in hell for the next few months since her sister offered Latin courses to a kid that probably could summon a demon with literally his wits alone. “You both will be the death of me. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

Griffon cackled. “I’ll let Shortstack have that gold star, girlie.”

X

The following day, Charlotte decided that the best way to test out V was to throw him into the fire. She wasn’t literally going to toss him into a middle of a demon fight and see how he fared, that wasn’t the greatest idea. However, she was going to drag him to see how he fit in with the rest of the group and see if Nico was willing to fit him up with a weapon. A conduit or something. She doubted he could swing anything heavy. She leaned back in the driver’s seat, eyeing him from the corner. He was reading his book, but she could tell that not a single thing was not noticed.

She could already tell, this kid was the kid that teachers loathed in school. Not for his smarts, oh they’d praise that, but he’d get bored quick. He’d pick up a book and read, and not once miss a beat. “You know, your stubbornness is a treat.” She said after a moment.

“Oh?” V picked his head up and watched her curiously, “Stubborn natures are not usually praised. What sparked you to say something like that about me?”

“There’s stubborn as in stubborn idiots and then there’s stubborn as in smart. I’ve dealt with more stubborn idiots than smart ones. Believe me, you’re a breath of fresh air, V.” Charlotte smiled as she tilted her head towards him as she flipped her turn signal to turn a corner. “You watch. You listen. I bet there have been a few times where if you wanted to, you could’ve started a shit show or ended one.” She hummed under her breath. “Mind if I ask you something personal, V?”

“You may ask anything you like, but there is no guarantee I will answer,” V responded cryptically, turning his page and settling further into the seat of the car.

Charlotte grinned, seemingly pleased. “Fine, I’ll give you two questions.” Even though there was no guarantee he’d answer either of them, it still made her pleased that one of the questions he might choose over the other. “What’s your full name? I only know you as V and while that’s not a bad nickname, it’s a...very short one.”

“Indeed it is.” His lips quirked at that, not elaborating in the slightest. He gave his full name to few people. The applications for the few times he held a job and Alexina.

Charlotte’s smile widened and she let out a soft chuckle. She flipped on another turn signal. “Okay. That’s fair.” Laughter echoed in her words as her eyes crinkled with the emotion. “Your girlfriend’s hot. Nico even said it.”

V’s hand twitched on his book, and he felt his neck warm, but otherwise gave nothing away, “I half expected that to come from Yvette’s mouth, not your own. Xina is not my girlfriend, even if Griffon calls her Hathaway.”

“Familiars are jerks as in they give things away before you even get a chance to hide.” Charlotte glanced at her rearview mirror. “Vet’s a terrible influence sometimes, and admittedly talking girl last night got me all sorts of curious. Nico’s also no help in that either. Thought I’d ask first before one of them pounced on you...loudly. Believe me, you’d rather be trapped where you are than getting a massage from Yvette if she’s around.”

“I will keep that in mind.” V closed his book and set it on his lap, eyes on the area around them once he realized the surroundings were unfamiliar. “Tell me again, where we are going?”

“We’re getting you fitted,” Charlotte replied, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. “We’re tracking down Nico and her van. I don’t want her hauling through the streets like they’re made of clay. I’m thinking they’re back at Dante’s place. If Vergil’s the stubborn idiot type I think he is, he’s there as well and if he is...I get to get upset about the wound he’s undoubtedly making angry.” She glanced at V. “Pop quiz time, V. What does the name Abaddon mean to you?”

Racking his brain, V knew he’d heard that before. It didn’t take long for him to narrow it down, “Abaddon, one of the Christian Angels of Death. Also known to be a demon. Rules over a bottomless pit, an Abyss. A destroyer. Destruction.”

He did his research. Charlotte tapped her fingers on the steering wheel again. Which meant he decided which demon to summon when he did his little ritual. “Okay. Now tell me a bit about Stolas.”

“Often depicted as an owl with a crown, or a raven,” V didn’t take as long to answer that as an image came to mind, “Known for astronomy, poison plants, and their herbs as well as precious stones. Not much is really known about him besides that.”

Charlotte nodded a few times, “He’s a plant demon with a thirst of trouble and worse his plants don’t usually have antidotes. Not ones that you can find anywhere, anyway.” She nodded her head towards the back of her car. “I’ve studied plants, that’s my shtick besides drawing sigils and paper origami spells. If you meet up with a demon that can do plants, don’t. I don’t even know how Vergil’s still alive. Stubbornness and pride I guess. I can’t blame him, I’d do the same thing. I ain’t dying to a plant. I think that’s everyone’s thought. Still. Things are getting worse from here, and if you’re gonna get in the middle of these battles, I’d rather you know. I have some of the cures. If you’re handy with plants, I can teach you how to make some of them, just in case.”

“By ‘antidotes you can’t find anywhere’ do you mean ‘common antidotes’?” V arched a brow at her. It wasn’t often he found himself around someone who would ramble away about something. Xina only did that when she was passionate about her chosen topic. “Xina ribs me for it, but I tend to keep my room as dark as possible. Blackout curtains and the like. So I don’t usually keep plants alive.”

“I’ll give you some extras then. Bottles I mean.” Charlotte grimaced. “Words and I aren’t..uh...good with each other.” She smiled thinly. “I’m the one that graduated high school, too, let that sink. We’re here.”

Eyeballing the building V slowly got out of the car and took a good hard long look at it. Committing it to memory would be a good idea, as he felt he would be coming around here quite often in the future to come. Right in front of them was an arched roof over the porch, double doors that were certainly worn in. In fact, the whole building looked worn down as if they were in the slums of Redgrave city, but V knew they were only in one of the several residential areas. Attached to the roof was a clear neon sign with cursive letters loudly screaming "Devil May Cry" and a man at the end with a gun pointed towards the capital D, a full-body sword on his back. “Should I be concerned?” V couldn’t help asking.

“The only thing you gotta worry about, Shakespeare, is keeping your head on straight.” Griffon appeared on V’s shoulder, peering at the building. “Nothing in there’s gonna bite ya, and there’s no shame in running away. You can always run away if you have to.”

“Never thought I’d hear the day a demon told someone to run away and mean it kindly.” Charlotte mused as she came out from the rear seats, carrying a stick of metal. “Come on. Dante’s kind enough and Griffon’s right. No one’s in there looking at you for a fight. If anything, they’re gonna be curious about you as you are them.” She gently patted V’s back.

As soon as they walked through the doors, V heard the wooden floorboards creak beneath his sandaled feet, and when he looked up from being startled by it he was greeted by an interesting sight. Two red couches to his left underneath the stairway were filled with people, the desk straight ahead of him had a man with shocking silver-white hair sitting in it, and they were all watching a familiar short woman with a trash bag in hand muttering to herself as she busied around like a bumblebee.

Before he or Charlotte could say anything, a voice at the top of the stairs caused him to look up. “Why is Yvette cleaning your place by herself, Dante?” He looked like the man behind the desk with his hair too wet to form a shape, only he wore shades of blue instead of shades of red.

V was the one to answer him, “It seems to me she’s the type of person to not allow anyone in her way.”

Charlotte was impressed. Five seconds in the door and he already called out her sister. Then again, it was probably cheating since they already met yesterday. The other boy on the couch looked over at them, his silver hair much shorter and wearing a royal blue hoodie spoke up. “Who’s the MCR knock off?”

Nico, on the other hand, was already leaping to her feet and heading towards Charlotte. “Is that what I think you got in yer hands there, Lotty?”

Charlotte’s instant response was to hold it up over her head, despite that, both girls were the same height if Charlotte wasn’t a tiny bit taller. “Uh-huh. I got rules for this one, Nico. Nothing flashy, something practical, and can be used in a fight.”

“Seriously? Yer gonna make me go borin’ with that piece of equipment?” Nico folded her arms over her chest. “Do you know how awesome I can make that thing? It’d be a work of art.”

“It’s not for me. It’s a gift.” Charlotte bargained. “Triple your usual rate. Unless...this isn’t a challenge at all for you Nico.”

“Give me that.” Nico jumped up and snatched it out of Charlotte’s hands. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m actually holding this...who's it for?”

Charlotte merely tilted her head and Nico looked right over at V. Her eyes looked all over him for a moment and then noted, “You must be Lexi’s boy.”

Griffon cackled. “Looks like they all got you pegged, pretty boy.”

Dante even glanced up at the bird’s voice. He didn’t have to look over at the stairs to know that Vergil probably shifted uncomfortably. The familiar looked….well...familiar. He looked back at Charlotte. “I didn’t shove her into doing this. She-”

“I VOLUNTEERED AS TRIBUTE!” Yvette screamed towards Charlotte, “You should’ve seen this place, Char! Horrible! You would’ve cried!”

Charlotte did a whistle as she held three fingers solemnly towards her sister and turned to Dante. “Next time instead of sacrificing my sister to the Hunger Games, rent yourself a wife.”

“I volunteer for that, too.” Yvette chirped and Vergil scoffed up above.

Dante shrugged, a smirk playing at his lips. “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one that went Tohru Honda on me. I barely said a word, let alone told her to do anything. I offered to help, but V called it.”

“Oh my fucking god, nerds. The lot of you.” Charlotte deadpanned, her attention turned towards Vergil. “How did my handiwork come out?”

“After a certain point,” Vergil put the towel he’d been using to dry his hair around his neck, “My demon healing took over. My back isn’t completely healed over, but it will be by tomorrow.” He wasn’t about to say that avoiding itching it had been a nightmare.

Nero noticed that V was gluing himself to the corner of the room, watching them. Griffon was steady on his shoulder, beady golden eyes also surveying the room as they took in the different interactions. He had a book under his arm, but Nero wouldn’t be at all surprised to look back at him and see his nose stuck in it. Nico’s question also went avoided. Either she was wrong and he didn’t know who Lexi was, or this kid didn’t know why Nico knew.

Charlotte did tell them that they had met him and that she wanted to see everyone’s reactions to him. Nero didn’t feel anything towards him, but that demon on his shoulder certainly gave him pause. He didn’t miss the look Dante made as he glanced over it. Carefully Nero stood up. He didn’t know why, but V reminded him of one of the shy orphans he sometimes ran into when Kyrie was working.

They were the ones that saw more than people wanted to admit. More ghosts in their closets and skeletons. The way V was watching him approach was much like how someone would watch a predator walk up to them. Assessing every move and every word before speaking. Like there was a game behind it. Nero didn’t do well with those kinds of games. All they told him was that the kid got hurt.

It sucked that this goth kid also looked like he was in a world of hurt. He noticed the necklace instantly. Same one the girl wore. The tattoos that were swirling in complicated and ornate designs were a little faded. Mostly around his arm that Griffon was perched on.

“Seeing something you like?” Griffon taunted Nero.

Nero instantly was reminded how he greeted his father and he tilted his head at the bird. “A talking bird.” He pretended to be impressed. “That’s a hell of a party trick you got there. I’m Nero. Who are you?”

“If you would like to see a party trick, I can certainly provide. You may call me V.” His olive green eyes crinkled a bit at the corners as a smirk tried to worm its way onto his face.

“V, huh?” Nero clicked his tongue. Playing the mystery route. He supposed he couldn’t blame the kid. Well, he was probably older than him. “This isn’t your only one?” He rapped his fingers towards Griffon.

“Ooh, someone wants to play.” Griffon trilled. “Don’t think you can handle us, little bug.”

Nero raised an eyebrow, “Was that the best you could come up with, Chicken?”

Charlotte made a soft noise in the background.

“First Charlotte wove her web and now you wish to irritate Griffon,” V was amused, and he forced himself to tear away from staring at Nero’s lovely blue eyes to address Dante, “I assume demons are a common sight around here?”

“I don’t think Lotty’s gonna win you any spelling bees. Also, you’re talkin’ to a quarter.” Nero pointed at Nico. “The only thing that’s demonic about her is her weapons.”

“Ain’t that the gospel truth,” Nico called from over her shoulder as she was heading back to her van. “I got a commission, so you boys have fun. Tell Lexi I said hi, V. She’s something fierce.”

“Shut up, Nico!” Nero rolled his eyes. “Honestly. It’s like she doesn’t get it.”

Dante watched the exchange with a furrowed brow and he leaned back. “The only thing that’s not so common to see is you, V, but Nero’s on track. I’m a half-demon. So is tall and brooding up there on the stairs. Everyone else around you is human. Well. As human as they get.”

“I was referring to more...unusual sights,” he glanced at Griffon but continued his smirk at Nero and patted his shoulder as he went by, “Outside.” He didn’t say anything else, going back for the door. He had been itching for a safe place to release his third, and if Nero wished for a party trick, then this was the perfect opportunity.

Silence. Nero was the first to shrug it off and head outside. Charlotte also decided to go, mostly out of curiosity and to see what this “party trick” was going to consist of. She was pretty sure her sister and Dante weren’t far off. Nico wouldn’t give a damn unless she saw it from her van. Vergil was also up in the air, but she could presume he followed if to confirm whatever suspicions he had.

Plenty of space was a wonderful start. V also wasn’t too concerned that it was daylight, as it meant people were more than likely at work and wouldn’t stare out their windows at the ruckus. It wouldn’t be for long, either, he had nothing for it to attack, but he could not deny he was eager. In all reality, this would be the first time he saw Nightmare the same as everyone else. Griffon had only told him of it.

Turning around, V decided to start off the show with shrugging Griffon off his shoulder and then flourished his arm out towards the group, his tattoos breaking off in particles and swirling before Shadow roared and pounced on the ground, shaking herself off from being cooped up.

“That’s two,” Charlotte muttered under her breath.

Nero had a feeling there was more to this. Like there was tension that started to crackle in the air. Anticipation made his blood roar in his ears like he was getting ready for a fight, even though there wasn’t one to be had. “Come on.” He grinned ferally. “That cat’s not everything you got.” He called out towards V. “Don’t hold back on us. This party’s just getting started.”

Something in Nero’s grin made V feel lively, and the smirk turned into a genuine smile. As he raised his arm slowly above his head he spoke, “‘He who kisses the joy as it flies, lives in eternity's sunrise’.” A snap. An explosion of black particles. The cool rush through V’s body that replaced the near-constant prickling made V close his eyes in blissful relief.

Nero wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but there were two surprises. One: V’s hair was suddenly stark white. It almost made Nero take a step back in surprise. A quarter demon like himself? Yet, he made a deal with a demon so...that wasn’t possible. The second thing was how large this familiar was. Stocky, like it was made of nothing but stone, but it’s body pulsed and swirled with dark energy and matter. As though it was created from it. A large purple eye was glowing in the middle of where the head should’ve gone. It was deep inside of the shoulder and it barely made any noise. Nero could…get this feeling this creature was confused. Who did it attack?

“Goddamn.” Nero whistled. “You certainly weren’t kidding when you said that you can do tricks.”

Charlotte pursed her lips together. Three. Everything came in three. “This kid.” She muttered fondly. “Is going to be the death of someone, I swear.”

V was absolutely in awe of the massive creature in front of him when he turned to look at it. He felt it’s confusion and he subconsciously hushed it, reaching out and laying his hand on what looked like a rocky arm. Coarse. Warm. He was fascinated and glanced up, examining the purple eye. Having Nightmare out was such a rush but he smiled ruefully, knowing it couldn’t last. Patting it, he allowed it to return since it had nothing to do. “That…” he released a long breath and turned back towards Nero, “Was Nightmare.” He motioned to the panther with glowing red designs on her fur, “Shadow.”

“It looked like one.” Nero quipped as Shadow paced herself in front of V before weaving around his legs. Nero could tell that the familiars were attached. Extremely attached. He didn’t doubt that if any of them made a move against V, they’d be in a world of hurt. Especially after Nightmare’s little show and tell. “You look like you’re halfway between passing out and in pain.”

“My, you are quite astute,” V placed his hand over his chest, taking a deep breath as the prickling pain was settling down. It wasn’t nearly so bad with Shadow out, and really he was grateful Alexina enjoyed his panther familiar so she could be out more often. “I am more...dizzy from relief. It has been nearly four months and Nightmare has never been out.”

Nero frowned. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, but he had a feeling asking it would only lead him in circles. “Let’s go back inside, and you can stop hogging the corner. Just in case someone else wants to pretend that it’s the corner of invisibility. You only make me feel bad.”

“You joke like your Uncle,” Vergil sighed, making his presence known.

“It means he has a good sense of humor. Don’t knock it because you don’t,” Dante teased.

V watched as Yvette, who was holding the door open, giggled madly at the exchange. Shaking his head, he stroked the top of Shadow’s head and followed everyone back inside. Though he did pause and look at Charlotte, “What are your thoughts now?”

“My thoughts are that you are a fucking terrifying person,” Charlotte said bluntly. “And how you haven’t been a target lately changed. Someone’s bound to feel that, and take it as a challenge.”

“Well now. That’s good. Business was getting slow, thought the demons finally got bored.” Dante swung his arms back and forth. “Prepare for the worst like the Abaddon fellow. And that Stolas. You and I got a score to settle with him later.”

Charlotte wasn’t sure if rolling her eyes would mean anything, but she did so anyway.

“That is another reason why Charlotte brought me here.” V explained once they were all inside and heading for the couches, “My familiars can protect Xina and I, but I have no training.”

It hit close to home. Nero felt like the world suddenly was showing him a mirror. He thought of Kyrie back at the orphanage that she was working at. They were far enough that any demon could take her at any moment. She took self-defense because Credo and Nero couldn’t stand the thought of her getting hurt, but anyone could be taken off guard. It only took one. One second. One moment.

Nero already knew that if his Uncle or his father didn’t, he would. “Fuck.” Nero hissed after a moment, throwing himself down to the couch, crossing his legs in midair. “I’m doing it.”

“Whoa-oh. Hotshot thinks he can teach us new tricks, huh?” Griffon leered. “What makes you our number one pick of the week?”

V held his hand to Griffon, watching Nero intently.

There were millions of reasons that Nero obviously shouldn’t take him on. Life experience, not a witch, had no idea how to do anything with familiars, weapon variety, fighting styles, there were plenty of reasons not to. Instead, Nero looked at V square in the eye. At the same time, there were reasons to help.

Nero eyed Griffon and instead of addressing V, addressed the bird. “Number one pick of the year.” He pointed out before turning his attention to V. “Because of anyone in this fucking place knows anything about what you’re going through. It’s me and my father, and my father’s injured and while he can recover in a day, I’m sitting right here. I don’t got a lot under my belt, that’s true, but I got enough to get you back to Lex safe. I got enough to help you protect her because I know that if one drop of blood leaves her, you’re guilt-ridden for a month.”

An inhale and V gingerly touched the tooth necklace. He had made a guess, but that confirmed it. “‘The people who consider you weak have not yet noticed the wolf hiding behind your eyes, nor the flames inside your soul’.” The poem fell from him without any trouble at all, “I accept your offer, Nero. We should perhaps talk next about places to train. Keeping my energy flares as far away from her as possible would be ideal. You understand.”

“Yeah.” Nero did understand. He turned towards Dante who was watching them with a complicated expression. He didn’t bother to question it. “You good with us using your back yard ol’ man?”

Dante rolled his eyes, “Sure thing, whippersnapper.”

Yvette cracked up in the background.

Nero paled, he forgot that Dante wasn’t one to lay down and take it, “No wait-”

“You kids can be on my lawn if you need to,” he continued, as though Nero didn’t say a word.

“Oh my god-” Nero wanted to fucking die.

“I’ll toss a newspaper at you every once a while,” Dante’s grin was feral as Nero looked completely done with this conversation, “Vergil do you remember back in the good ol’ day-”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD PLEASE!” Nero threw a pillow at Dante and wasn’t at all surprised that it was caught. “I get the MESSAGE!”

Vergil pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to Yvette wheezing, her cleaning tirade completely halted as she stopped to laugh to death, “At least someone enjoys your jokes.”

Charlotte pursed her lips together, “I vaguely find myself in between horror and amusement because I suddenly can feel my age.”

“You are not-” Nero rounded onto Charlotte. “Following his line.”

“Oh please, I have enough confidence in myself to not embarrass you to death.” Nero looked relieved for five seconds. “I’ll do that to you on the battlefield.”

Yvette pointed at Charlotte from her position leaning on the wall, “She will roast people on the field!”

Griffon trilled, “Not unless I shock them first, shortstack.”

V shook his head, “Not that sort of roasting. I understand the reference.” He chuckled when Yvette chirped a ‘yay’.

“Nerds.” Charlotte deadpanned. “Violent nerds. All of you. I thought you people were supposed to be sweet. Goddamn.”

“You went to the wrong school,” Nero retorted.

“I must have. Fuck me.”

“Well, we got that all straightened out and taken care of.” Dante looked pleased. “If you need any help Nero, we got you covered.” He turned towards Charlotte. “You keeping an eye out?”

“So far nothing.” Charlotte shrugged. “Either they’re cowards, or this is gonna bring them out of hiding.”

“Then we’ll see you sometime later.” Dante turned to V. “You know that’s a good question. How are you going to sneak out on your girl anyway? It’s rude to leave her hanging.”

“There is no sneaking involved. Xina was the one who suggested I take their advice in the first place. Their advice was training. So here I am.” V leaned back, getting more comfortable.

“She has a good head on her shoulders.” Nero looked at V. “I’m glad to know you two aren’t the types to not tell each other shit. I can already tell you how bad that can go down.”

“Yeah yeah, dramatic effect, near death love confessions. Not that won’t happen an-” Griffon was cut off.

Yvette was quite surprised when V was not the one to silence his familiar, but it was Vergil standing abruptly that caught everyone’s attention.

“Secrets between lovers leads to death.” The hiss was cutting and the words dripped acid, but if they were aimed at anyone it was himself. Vergil turned on his heel and his strides were long and swift towards the door, snatching his coat from the hooks, “I am going out.” Was his only explanation before the door clicked shut behind him.

The silence was uncomfortable, but no one had the heart to refute it. Not even Griffon for all the wise-cracks that he made. Charlotte stared at the door, her expression complicated. Only for a moment before she finally decided to also leave. Either to follow him or to get away from the silence was beyond them.

Shadow, on the other hand, seemed to have an idea. She leaped on the couch and draped herself over Nero’s legs, stretching herself as long as she possibly could before melting against his lap.

“I didn’t realize I was destined to be a demon pillow,” Nero said dryly but gingerly ran his hand through her fur. It was...shocking at how soft the fur was and the energy that crackled underneath her. It wasn’t painful, not at all, but it most definitely reminded him that she was more than a panther. “Good girl.” He muttered under his breath as she purred louder. “I think I’m stuck.” He admitted.

Dante huffed a laugh before walking out of the room. “Need me to haul those out for you, Yeti?” He asked, pointing at the trash bags she had collected.

“Don’t call me that,” Yvette muttered even as a smile played at her lips and she tied off the one in her hands, all of the trash picked up by now, “Sure, you can show me where the bins are.”

V listened as the two made their way to do their own thing, and he crossed his ankles in front of him as he arched a brow at Nero with Shadow. They were left alone now. “She likes you.” He decided to start off.

“Never thought of myself as a cat person. Dog person sure, but cats? Never really had a chance to go up against one.” Nero said as he rubbed Shadow’s ears and she headbutted his hand to get him to rub more. “She’s a lovebug, isn’t she? All that affection. It’s like you and Lex don’t spoil her, and I know better than that.”

“I’ve heard plenty of people say they don’t like cats because they are evil or something of the sort,” V waved his hand dismissively, “I prefer cats over dogs myself. Our apartment doesn’t allow pets, but since this is...awfully convenient,” he traced over his own tattoos, a mischievous little smile on his face this time, “Xina has been extremely pleased she gets to have Shadow who’s the size of a dog but a giant ball of love.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Griffon pouted. “You make it sound like Hathaway holds no love for me V. Rude. I get the feather scratches.”

At that, V actually laughed and he reached his hand up, scratching under Griffon’s chin, “Indeed you do.”

Nero’s lips curved into a smirk. “Lex has a soft spot for animals and she adores you because you can talk.”

“That is not my only shtick hotshot.” Griffon stuck his neck out further for V to scratch. “I am an extremely good wingman too. They’re stubborn.”

Chuckling again, V continued to scratch Griffon absently and looked to Nero’s demonic arm. He hadn’t a chance to really take it in, “If you use your claws I’m sure Shadow will adore you.”

“You mean my nails or…” Nero trailed off as he looked at his demon arm. It had been a while since he had a stranger look at it. Kyrie hadn’t minded, which had been a fucking surprise to him. For V to point it out, he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. He switched hands but was careful for it, just in case Shadow didn’t like it. As he gently used his nails to scratch Shadow, he was pleasantly surprised when he saw a tiny hint of tongue stick out. Well now. There was a pause. “Pretty terrifying looking isn’t it.”

“Your arm? I don’t think so at all.” V shook his head, resting his hands in his lap and watching Nero with interest, “Though I will say I am confused why you have that and neither Dante nor Vergil do. Is it because you are a quarter?”

“I think so.” Nero shrugged. “My theory is that both Dante and pops can do a Devil Trigger and go full demon. Since I’m a quarter, I don’t think I have that ability and this is kinda...you know...the only reminder I got that says ‘yeah you got demon blood in you’.” He shifted his weight carefully underneath Shadow. The familiar was pretty freaking heavy, but he wasn’t about to push the cat aside yet. “It happened when I got injured a long time ago. It’s...it’s a hard story. That’s why I get it when you said you wanted to protect Lex. I couldn’t protect Kyrie. Almost lost her. It took a long time to get over it, we still wake each other up sometimes with nightmares about it, but...the orphanage keeps us busy...and demon hunting most definitely keeps me busy. Yet the reminders are still there. She used to sing for the Order. One of the best singers. You’d get along with her famously I think.”

“I would enjoy meeting her.” V nodded. He said her name with honey-sweet affection and it warmed his heart. “Xina isn’t my girlfriend, but maybe someday. That’s a secret you get to know. My name is also Vitale.” He ignored Griffon’s squawk and how Shadow twitched her ear. “I don’t tell many people that.”

“Yeah, Lex was pretty secretive about your identity as well. Pulled out all the stops to make sure she didn’t even say V.” Nero watched him for a moment. “She said to me that she was sick when you made the deal.” He paused in scratching Shadow’s fur. “Was she really near death or was that you jumping to conclusions?”

V licked his lips and took a deep breath, “I prayed to the Gods first, for a miracle. I knew if I made a deal with the devil it had to be because there was no other way. So that is what I did. The night I made the decision...she wouldn’t have made it to see her favorite thing. The sunrise.”

Nero let out a slow long breath. Griffon was even oddly quiet about it. Solemn. “You’re an interesting guy, V.”