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the-dumbest-po3-au · 4 years

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part 4 - the dumbest po3 au

its been. nine. montsh im SO SORRY GUYS LMAO

for those of you who dont know what the dumbest po3 au is, click this link

for those of you who have not read the summaries for power of three, part 1 - part 2 - part 3

alright!!!!!!! dovewing time

the fourth apprentice

the book opens w/ ivykit and dovekit in the nursery. ivykit suggests going out to explore the territory and dovekit is like “wow. that sounds like a fantastic idea ivykit you are so smart"

whitewing says No Absolutely Not, and leaves at some point to go make dirt. they sneak out and not 5 minutes later they get lost. dovekit gets blames ivykit for suggesting it and they get into a fight. they both get really mad & dovekit runs off. because shes like a stupid 2 year old gets distracted, rams her head into a rock and passes out. rip dovekit. she wakes up and sees a fox kit coming towards her. she screams.

her head hurts and shes tired and now shes going to die. out of nowhere a huge cat beats up the fox and scares it away. dovekit passes out (again)

when she wakes up, she is next to a cat messing with a bunch of weird plants. the cat sees that she woke up and introduces himself as littlecloud. he asks what her name is. “dove… dove…?? i dont know” says dovekit.

he asks her how she got there, and if she has any family. she does not remember. so littlecloud tells her she’s gonna have to stay here for the time being. he asks her if anything hurts, and dovekit says she thinks may have hit her head.

he gives her some of the weird plants and she goes back to sleep. when she wakes up her head has stopped hurting and she feels a lot better. she gets up to go walk around and is immediately introduced to the tawnyspawn.

tigerpaw is stupid and friendly (and hellbent on being her future best friend). dawnpaw is obnoxious and a bit (read: extremely) condescending but interested. flamepaw is nice and also the only one with half a braincell.

they take her around and introduce her to the rest of the clan. she sees blackstar and is like. “im pretty sure thats my dad” tigerpaw gasps. flamepaw and dawnpaw are like. “What.” “he saved me from the fox im pretty sure thats my dad,” says dovekit

they go harass blackstar. dovekit follows him around like a puppy and the tawnspawn follow her. he has this train of literal 2 yr olds trailing after him and is wildly unhappy about this development. russetfur is also definitely siccing the kids on him to make him mad.

dawnpaw gives dovekit a passionate speech about the clans, but mostly how evil riverclan kicked completely innocent shadowclan out of their home, and how shadowclan has to set everything right and deliver justice to those cringe fail fishheads, or something.

a few days later the tawnyspawn are off doing their own thing and dovekit goes to see whats going on. dawnpaw tries to shut tigerpaw up but he spills the beans anyways. “we’re going to attack riverclan on a Secret Mission so that we can win back shadowclan’s honor and become WARRIORS so you cant tell anybody”

dawnpaw sighs. “dovekit this is for Big Kids Only, so you cant be here.” flamepaw is trying to talk tigerpaw out of doing this in the bg but tigerpaw is being stubborn. dovekit is sad about it but goes back to sulk in camp (and to harass her new dad).

a few hours later tawnypelt runs over to blackstar and is like. “blackstar my children are missing nobody knows where they went”

"oh!! they went to go attack riverclan to get back shadowclan’s territory!” informs dovekit helpfully.

“what.” says blackstar, tawnypelt, and russetfur in unison. the sky immediately opens up and starts Pouring. tawnypelt freaks out. dovekit is like “why cant we just follow the sound of their voices??” but everyone ignores her bc they think shes just being stupid.

“Fine!! ill just go find them on my OWN” says dovekit, following them by the sound of their voices (theyre proally arguing over something stupid).

now four of shadowclan’s children are missing. “you brought that kid here so you get to deal with her,” says russetfur. blackstar sighs dramatically and goes off to find his new child.

dovekit runs into an old man cat. “whatre you doin here??” says old man cat. “im looking for my friends!! whats your name :0? im dovekit!!” “my names purdy!”

blackstar shows up and is like. who tf are you. “this is my new friend purdy!!!” says dovekit. blackstar doesnt even know how to respond. “look we’re going to go back to the camp right now and we’re not taking this dude with us.”

dovekit is like “??? no??? we have to get my friends theyre right over there??” she says pointing in their direction w/ her tail. blackstar is ready to cry. so blackstar and purdy follow dovekit as she leads them closer to riverclan territory where they hear the tawnyspawn screeching like banshees.

they run over and find several cats w/ the tawnyspawn who are pinned down. “if you breathe in my direction ill kill all three of these children,” says a snotty dude.

“who tf are you” says blackstar

“im darktail you insolent snot,” says darktail.

one of his cats grabs dovekit and blackstar snaps. he lunges at darktail while purdy beats up the dude who snatched dovekit. the tawnyspawn take advantage of the moment, escape, and dogpile the other cats. its a disaster.

darktail swears revenge on blackstar till his dying day or something. nobodys really paying attention to him at this point. he runs off w/ his crew. “alright then” says blackstar. this has been a really weird and long day for everyone. blackstar wants to leave purdy but all the children immediately start crying. they bring purdy home.

“holy crap!!! purdy!!!!!” says tawnypelt. “why are you here??” but then she sees her children. she and rowanclaw give them a very stern lecture about Not Running Off Without Telling Anyone (in which tawnypelt is a massive hypocrite but to be fair god told her to)

in the meanwhile, blackstar asks dovekit how tf she knew they were there. “i could hear them, Obviously. ???? cant u not???” blackstar just looks at her. dovekit realizes that probably not everyone shares this ability. blackstar shoos her off and calls a meeting w/ the senior warriors.

dovekit goes off to bother purdy for stories and play w/ the tawnyspawn. nothing particularly interesting happens. blackstar and russetfur call her over later and start assessing her abilities. its only slightly a disaster because shes wildly distracted 80% of the time and her powers are unwieldy bc shes a kit.

cue training. there is a lot of trial, error, and tears (on both sides) but it works out in the end (mostly).

time skip. its been a few months. dovekit becomes dovepaw and blackstar mentors her b/c of her powers. at this point shes gotten control of how to pick out numbers, locations, troops, etc. basically she is a living radar.

blackstar calls another meeting w/ the senior warriors and afterwards calls a clan meeting. “alright losers we’re going to take back our territory and kick riverclan’s butt”

they go over the clan w/ all the cats and begin the trek home. another time skip because that takes a while and nothing particularly interesting happens.

when they get back, the clan stays outside the border while blackstar has dovepaw do a sweep of the territory. she finds a patrol led by a black cat named reedwhisker. blackstar picks a patrol out and they go to ambush the riverclan patrol.

the shadowclan patrol takes reedwhisker + the patrol hostage, but lets one go to tell mistystar. mistystar takes a patrol and comes over. “if you dont give us back our territory i will kill your son” says blackstar. mistystar is like “bro. i dont even want your stupid crusty territory anyways. screw you.”

she takes her son and the rest of the patrol and leaves. another win for shadowclan, obviously. maybe they have a party idk. end of book.

fading echoes

cinderheart has not been doing well. she’s been doing really badly, actually. her best friend died and she blames herself. she’s still grieving and continually lashing out at everyone around her. poppyfrost and honeyfern attempted to be there for her but after the continual rebuffs they decided to just give her space.

unfortunately cinderheart. doesnt have any other friends in thunderclan, so the only person she can talk to is lionblaze. unfortunately theres only so much he can do from windclan, so mostly shes been just been going into a downward spiral.

ivypaw hasnt been doing great either. she feels extremely guilty because she thinks its her fault that dovekit ran away, and when dovekit is never found, it gets 50x worse.

but she also doesnt want to say anything about her involvement in fear of getting punished. as time goes on, she starts getting babied by the clan (almost like leopardstar when she was a kid) because her sister disappeared and she took it really hard.

and like on one hand, she likes the attention, but on the other hand its too much a lot of the time. she starts adopting this “stop babying me!1!1!!!”/kinda edgy persona. the clan takes it like shes grieving, and she’ll grow out of it, so they dont say too much.

so the book opens w/ ivypaw and fernpaw’s apprentice ceremony. brief context about how fern was recently found by the thunderclan border w/o parents and taken into the clan. fernsong is apprenticed to brightheart. ivypool is apprenticed to cinderheart.

firestar probably thinks that they might be able to bond/break through to each other because they recently lost a sister/adjacent sister. neither of them are particularly enthusiastic about it.

cinderheart isnt particularly invested in ivypaw’s training. ivypaw can tell and gets rightfully frustrated, bc brightheart and fernpaw are getting along great and making lots of progress, while ivypaw is falling behind becuase cinderheart is being a terrible mentor.

ivypaw starts fighting back (disobeying, talking back, etc.), partially because this is the only time she gets paid attention, and partially because shes just mad, which makes cinderheart mad, which then makes ivypaw fight back more. this causes cinderheart to become more and more distant. in short: ivypaw’s apprenticeship is a disaster.

at some point during training, theyre practicing climbing trees and cinderheart tells ivypaw to do something. to spite her, ivypaw does the opposite and ends up falling, dislocating her leg. cinderheart panics and cinderpelt emerges.

cinderpelt basically possesses cinderheart and relocates her arm. they go back to camp and take ivypaw to the medicine cat den, gives ivypaw some poppy seeds and ditches.

“wow um. wtf was that” says cinderheart. leafpool is like, “hahaha………… about that. you’re um… cinderpelt reincarnated.”

“what.” says cinderheart

“CINDERHEART IS CINDERPELT REINCARNATED???” screams foxleap at the top of his lungs in the middle of camp. whatever was left of cinderheart’s life shatters.

so now instead of ignoring her, the entire camp won’t leave her alone - except now they just treat her as they would cinderpelt. “hey cinderheart remember when [enter something that happened in the old forest here]??” “hey cinderheart can you fix my paw??” “hey cinderpelt-” “are you going to become a medicine cat then??”

to pour more salt into the wound, cinderheart now gets a free commentary on everything in her life!! (this definitely includes lionblaze) there used to be sort of a barrier between cinderheart/cinderpelt but since cinderpelt emerged/took control, it shattered.

so between cinderpelt complaining about all the terrible decisions she’s made and the entire clan pretending that she’s cinderpelt instead of a Completely Different Person, when hawkfrost shows up w/ an invite to fight club on the weekends cinderheart is more than happy to take him up.

sure hawkfrost is wildly annoying and clearly hates her guts for some reason (no matter how hard he pretends not to whenever tigerstar is around) but this is great for three reasons.

1) nobody in the dark forest has any idea she’s cinderpelt. 2) warrior training!! emphasizing she is a Warrior not a medicine cat. 3) time away from cinderpelt!! they arent the same soul so they cant read each other’s thoughts (unless theyre trying to communicate) and cant share dreams

so she might be purposely oblivious. whatever. she doesnt even know who hawkfrost is b/c anybody outside of riverclan immediately forgot about him because he really was not very effective at all. and its not like hes about to start spilling the beans until shes ready to be indoctrinated w/ dark forest propaganda.

meanwhile, tensions between shadowclan and thunderclan have been rapidly rising. again. prey is being stolen, scents are on other territories, patrols get into skirmishes often.

firestar is hurt because he was trying to get mistystar to lay off on the territory and blackstar is mad because they literally Just got back and thunderclan is ALREADY trying to reinstate old rivalries.

cinderheart really isnt paying attention to what’s going on cuz shes. more than a little wrapped up in her own problems. until it turns into a war.

this battle feels way more vicious than normal. cinderheart tries to recall how this whole thing started and realizes she has absolutely no idea what tf is going on???

throughout the fight she notices weird stuff happening. mousewhisker and redwillow nod to each other. ratscar + blossomfall swap glances. applefur pulls snowbird off thornclaw’s back. literally wtf thinks cinderheart

and then russetfur takes a stab at firestar. out of nowhere, thornclaw goes for her throat. cinderheart barely saves russetfur in the nick of time - the injuries are bad enough that she is forced to retire.

“screw literally everyone in thunderclan except u” blackstar says pointing @ cinderheart “and i hope the rest of you rot in the dark forest.” he rounds the rest of shadowclan up and then leaves.

“well that was weird” says cinderheart. she goes off to find ivypaw and realizes that shes. not responding. oh thats a lot of blood-

cinderpelt pops up again and works w/ cinderheart to patch up ivypaw until she’s stable. they bring her into the medicine den together and let leafpool look her over. she says that they made it in time and ivypaw will live. she leaves to go look after the other patients, leaving cinderheart with her apprentice

cinderheart realizes that this is her fault. had she actually paid attention to ivypaw and given her proper training, this wouldn’t have happened. she resolves to try a lot harder to be a good mentor for ivypaw’s sake.

cinderpelt approves and apologizes for being so intrusive on cinderheart’s life. she really doesnt want to be in here either - this was a decision the idiots in starclan forced on her. she was taking it out on cinderheart, which wasn’t fair for her.

cinderpelt promises to try to give cinderheart as much privacy as she can (while trying to figure out how to get out of her brain). cinderheart thanks her. there’s a brief bonding moment.

cinderpelt says that since ivypaw seems stable she’s going to go to sleep now, since she exhausted herself earlier.

just as cinderpelt goes out to the back of cinderheart’s mind, blossomfall comes storming in about how cinderheart messed the plan up and how cinderheart screwed everything up for everyone & she’s a traitor to the cause, Honestly cinderheart you’re so useless-

“literally wtf are you talking about” says cinderheart

“you saved russetfur,” blossomfall says. “if we take out the leaders and deputies, we can destabilize the clans enough that taking over will be a piece of cake. are you a dark forest trainee or not, cinderheart?”

end of book

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales Reviews!: The Split Sword of Swanstatine! or Sometimes You Just Have to Punch Your Problems Away

The race for the missing mysteries takes Scrooge, the kids and a sorta hyjacked Lena and Violet to a mystical market to hunt down the pieces of the mythical sword of the warrior king swanstanine. Naturally a split artifact leads to a vignette episode as the kids pair up to find the pieces while Scrooge and Heron face off. Dewey and Webby face blindness, Louie and Violet face Louie’s reputation as an underworld kingpin, and Huey and Lena face Huey’s Feral Side. The race is on with full recap and spoilers under the cut.

Not a lot of background here.. I was excited enough for this one as Steelbeak and Rockerduck came back, but I went from “This will be pretty good and oh look Flula Borg” to HOLY SHIT LENA AND VIOLET ARE BACK LET’S GO ALREADY. So yeah, there’s not a lot to get started here that can’t be done as we go, let’s get out there and talk about some ducktales. We open in a vast marketplace whose name i’ve already forgotten.. it’s almost 4 in the morning here and I have terrible memory with name sometimes, I make no apologizes. Naturally given the big declaration at the end of the last episode the family is on the hunt for a missing mystery.. and Dewey is on the hunt for Street Meat, though Scrooge denies him any till they get the job done... I mean they can eat and go treasure hunting. They can do two things. Let him have some lamb dammit, spiced lamb is fucking delcious you monster! Or whatever that is the point is it’s larged, well seasoned and makes me hungry! But starving his grandchildren aside, Scrooge has no doubt they can acomplish this as a family.. and then notices his future in laws are also there and his whole big speech game is thrown off by the question of why. To me it’s because we need more of them, quit old man your already 0-2 this episode, but turns out the explination is one of the funniest jokes of the season.. and this is a season that’s include “There now your susceptible to vampires”, “Yipiee Kai Yay Mr. Falcon!”, Darkwing’s Cookbook, Gene’s Soda Commerical, Gladstone having a mental breakdown over having to be a normal person, and Della trying to deflect the blame for traumatizing children. This bit is on par with that. Violet explains that Scrooge told everyone to get on the plane. I assume Donald and Della are with their signifigant others, Beakly was getting some much needed therapy and Launchpad.. was flying the plane.. and also had Drake and Gosalyn with him because he double booked and had to take them with him to assist whatever ex of his is in trouble this week. Point is that bit’s freaking hilarious and Scrooge simply asks if they enjoy history and the answers are a predictable “Not really” from Lena, which given her own personal history is vast, terrible, and traumatizing up until the last year and her adoption by two gay men, relationship with a charming young lady, and gaining a beloved nerdy sister, that tracks. Violet of courser says it’s her life. Scrooge takes it: He’s used to having half his adventuring party either not caring about culture and history, the Saberwings just keep the average up. So Webby does the natural thing and tackle hugs her girlfriend and future sister in law while Scrooge smiles because why wouldn’t you.

And I was happy about this: not just hte tackle hug, because that was precious, but Scrooge eagerly accepting them along for the ride. I was worried for half a second that as good as the gag was that’d be the episodes big underlying issue.. but nope, his confusion was more “Wait why are the extra children here”, than questions of worth and given their previous appearance had him willingly inviting them along, and Lena and Violet only opting out due to fears about her magic getting them all killed and to support her sister, it woudln’t of made any character sense for him not to, doubly so since their up against a shadowy organization of ruthless thugs. Granted Beakly likely sighed after returning from her midnight therapy and called the Saberwing parents by Ty and Indy are probably used to their daughter’s friends elderly Uncle taking them to strange places in the middle of the night by this point. I mean one of their daughters can turn bluper sayain now, the ship on normal behavior kind of sailed over a cliff a while ago.

But Scrooge soon detects what he thinks is heron but is actually a woman who justifiably punches him. Turns out Heron was actually hiding in a stall though, and brought all her friends with her.. except Blot.. and while at first I was going to make a joke I realized they probably don’t want the guy who drains the magic out of everything near a magic artifact he’d probably destroy despite the consequences. So Bradford probably just sent him to murder the lucky charms leprechaun... he DOES have a life outside of trying to Murder scrooge... he can want to murder cereal mascots too. He’s a renascence evil mastermind. A sword fight ensues, with Scrooge telling the kids to pair up and go find the pieces while he keeps Heron busy.

Cue Credits and cue the episode itself being split into three vignettes. I do love vignette episodes, episodes of half hour shows that split into 3 different stories taking place at the same time and break from the formula, with two of the best I can think of being the Avatar classic “Tales from Ba Sing Sei”, most famous for the really gutpunching bit with Iroh singing at his dead son’s grave.. jesus I teared up, not a joke or an exaggeration literally teared up, just thinking about it. On the opposite end we have the season 12 Simpson’s episode Trilogy of Error, which while during when the rot started to set in for the series is easily a classic on the sam tier as the first 10 seasons. It alfeatured an at the time young Daniel Radcliff as Lisa’s love interest, Marge getting accused of attempted murder after accidently chopping homer’s finger off, Bart and Milhouse turning informant ont he mob and the tragic life of Linguo. It’s a classic.

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But yeah three pieces, three teams of two, and three story segments. So like last week I can easily divide the stories up and unlike last week I won’t be frontloading or forgetting anything since their divided up much more evenly and are played back to back to back rather than intercutting. So with that in mind...

Dewey and Webby: The Hidden Truths of Temporary Blindness and the Albino Snakes We Mistook for Cats Along the Way

The Dynamic Duo Returns! Seriously I did the legowork, I.e. went to google and despite the two’s dynamic being a sizeable part of season 1 and a plot point at the start of season 2, which also put the final nail in my shiping them coffin as it was very clear they were basically siblings in all but blood at this point and I wisely jumped off the ship and nuked it from orbit. But outside of Webby’s subplot with Dewey and Louie in “The Town Where Everyone Was Nice!”, it just.. hasn’t come up again. They’ve just had other dynamics to explore with the show and thus the two really haven’t interacted as much for the rest of the series thus far. They still interact, it’s just not really as a major part of any episodes plot till now. So while not a pairing I was expecting it was nice to have it back. For about ten seconds. Yeah cards on the table this is the weakest of the three segements. While the other two have intresting settings, setups, and character dynamics we genuinely haven’t seen this one has.. a weird version of a dynamic we’ve seen done better, and an antagonist who feels oddly flat this go round. It’s just not THAT intresting despite some intresting moments but it’s best to just get into it to explain why.

The basic setup is Webby is hoping to use bold de-ducktion to figure things out while flying under the radar while Dewey’s solution is naturally to ask everyone they meet, and then shout at Gandra when they do find the piece. This naturally gets a flashbang thrown at them, though we do get one great bit where Gandra asses their threat levels with Webby’s being high and Dewey’s being Eh, which tracks. And the thing that stings here is.. Gandra COULD’VE been an intresting opponent for Webby. While Huey and Violet, being fellow genuises as well as Huey’s personal stake in it for her hurting Fenton last year/season would be a better match, pitting Webby against someone just as focused and thought out in fighting, but who rather than use strength uses cybernetics and various gadgets would be really intresting, especially since the other two villian matchups are equally perfect. But instead.. it just feels like Gandra could’ve been replaced with a random fowl soldier. She just uses a flash grenade and some pakour, no real unique skills of hers or insight into her character or anything remotley intresting on her first Fenton-less outing just... “eh I use tech stuff because i’m the tech girl bleh”. The show can do better, and Jameela is given nothing to work with to the point I genuinely worried she’d been replaced.. she hadn’t, but it’s NEVER a good sign when you give an actor so little to do character wise I can wonder that. Also it’s a bit of a nitpick but it genuinely bothers me that Flula Borg, John Hodgman and Jason Mantzokus all got guest star credits.. but April Winchel and Jameela Jamil got nothing. And you could say April’s a long standing voice actor and all that.. but Tress Macneile also got a guest starring credit for next week’s episode solicit, so it’s clearly not that, and just comes off unintetionally sexist and obnoxious and has bothered me since the episode summaries came out.

That out of the way the basic conflict is our heroes are flying blind, literally, with Dewey able to easily amble along, while Webby struggles as she can’t analize blind.. which comes off as bullshit to me. I HIGHLY doubt Beakly, paraoid mess she is, would not train her granddaughter to be able to fight without seeing. It’s one of the most basic training techniques in media. There’s a reason it pops up Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles a lot. To fight on instinct and with your other senses. And the instinct part is the lesson and insn’t a bad idea, it’s just the tool they use for it means they have to make Webby entirely helpless in a way that’s nonsensical to her character to make the plot work and it drags the bit down, thoguh we do get an utterly hilarious bit where Dewey mistakes a coiled white snake for a kitten. But our heroes make it through, Webby eventually saves Dewey with a leap of faith and Dewey has Webby hit a flash grenade back at Gandra which works somehow and blinds her optics despite you know.. someone who uses this kind of tech probably being smart enough to protect her own cybernetic eyes from flashbangs. But the kids have the piece.. and a snake now even if it terrifies them. I wish one of them had taken it home a snake fits either of them and Webby’s dealt with worse.. which is the whole problem with this segment. That being said getting to see Dewey pull a hank venture and turn his normal near-suicidal reckleness into a strength was great I just with it was framed in a way that wasn’t “plannig and knowing things is stupid USE IMPULSE”. Thankfully we can move on. Louie and Violet: The Silver Tongued Viper and The Violet Blade versus the Billion Dollar Man

Next up is Violet and Louie, a team up I didn’t expect at all but works well, and is a much better contrast. Webby and Dewey are similar enough, despite his rampant stupidity, that having a “one side teaches the other how to use something else and tap into their inner self”lesson didn’t work> Here it works perfectly: Someone who speaks frankly and seeks the truth through reason and research paired with someone whose greatest and most cherished talent is the ablility to lie and swindle. It’s a good contrast. Their headed for the underworld since, as I forgot to mention, each of the clues is framed as coming from the heavens (the first piece being on top of a statue), the underworld and the heart of the earth.

Violet, and understandbly given her sister is magic and the general nonsense the duck family runs into, takes the underworld part literally taking an axe and some coins to pay the ferryman with her. Louie however figures it’s usually just a flowry way of putting a con.. and while he’s wrong about mythology given the ducks have met gods and the ENTIRE next episode (which likely features selene since i’ts now established they leave out guest stars if there’s more than three apparently) is about the gods they met... his instincts are not wrong and it is nice they aren’t. Sure some myths are real but sometimes a clue isn’t literal, and it’s clever that hte underworld here is the criminal underworld.

Turns out center piece for the sword is an underground den for the criminal underworld focused around spice eating and general no goodnik shenanigans and Louie’s come prepared. In a bit of character stuff I REALLY love, Louie’s built up a rep as “The Silver Tounged Serpent”, with him bluffing that violet is his companion, having simply used a web of lies and word of mouth to build him up as the worst and most vile criminal imaginable. It’s not a bad plan and while Violet rightly points out he’ll have to live up to it eventually, and Louie naturally deflects that as “Future Louie’s” problem, not realizing in this case Future Louie is about 2 minutes from being present Louie, it’s not a bad scheme. Sure it’s risky as hell and he picked the worst place to use it.. but having an alias he can use to sneak into places like this where Scrooge would be made in an instant, and can easily come up with lies for the rest of his family minus Huey, whose useless not for being easily detectable but because he can’t lie to save his life and this very episode cements it. Most of his family is certified grade a badass, and can easily help him bluff or back up his claims or make him look like one. it’s just this time he happened to get Violet instead whose brutally honest and while badass, isn’t great at running con games nor pleased about any of this. That and Louie’s biggest weakness is forthought: While his brothers either don’t plan at all or overplan, Louie underplans: He has good ideas and good schemes and scams.. it’s just he has no real endgame for any of them and Violet sees right through that. Still meeting the Spice Baron, played by Flula Borg who I mostly know from this song he did with Ninja Sex Party, though I also forgot he was in PItch Perfect 2...

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Your welcome. But while he’d like to give our fake arch criminal his prize, someone else already offered him a literal, not figurative ton of cocaine.. I mean Gold. Got the wrong show there for a second. Unsurprisingly it’s Rockerduck whose done this and unlike the wasted opprotunity above this battle of wits is between the perfect opponents. Rockerduck is easily what Louie would become without his family: A shifty conman with a flair for lying, contacts in the criminal underworld and aversion to doing the hard work himself. He’s such a perfect opponent for Louie I don’t know why I never considered the two going head to head before, but it’s utterly fantastic. John Hodgman is also far and away the MVP of the episode guest villain wise, with some of the best lines too, my favorite being, after making a spice pun, demanding the assorted roughnecks “Laugh, LAUGH AT MY SPICE PUN”.. just the way he demands it with a mixture of karen and a whiny teenager is inspiried. But yeah, Rockerduck knowing who he’s dealing with challenges Louie to a spice duel, basically eating the hottest spices imaginable till one folds, winner takes all. Naturally Louie’s ep included being a champion at this, and naturally his first instincts are to bail and when that fails, keep lying while Violet encourages him not to. I mean he’s ignored the pink and red angels on his shoulder telling him not to do bad things, why would the new purple one be any different. But Rockerduck has the edge as his taste buds were burned off in cryo.. though in another great line he laments he can never enjoy hard boiled eggs again. Which fair enough but.. you know two geniuses.. one of them can simulate taste buds. Regardless, Louie’s in trouble and his attempt to simply cheat his way out fails and the baron dosen’t tolerate Cheaters.. or Cheetahs.. or Cheating Cheetahs as seen in a great sight gag with a cheetah which requires the Baron to clarify it’s both. Point is Louie is screwed.. but Violet then downs all three, without a bead of sweat for reasons the episode explains at the end of this segment, but works since we don’t know violet well and the mystery of how she did it is a compelling question for a second. Our heroes have won but Rockerduck plays his trump card: that they aren’t who their saying they are.. but turns out the truth is even better than the lies Louie has, as Violet quickly spins Louie’s legend with the outright acomplishments he’s had, including defeating the bombie and defeating Scrooge’s entire Rogue’s gallery with a pen stroke.. both true. And unlike the last segement this bit of true strength feels earned: Louie’s other ablility besides lying is seeing all the angles.. and thus like Violet.. he sees the truth. He can see what a person feels, know them better than they may know themselves or the lies they might tell themselves simply through a keen eye. He can pick apart a million dollar defense system simply with a few glances as seen last episode. Louie’s lies may be useful.. but his biggest strength is inddeed his ablility to see the truth. Louie backs violet up as conquerer of the shadow realm (techincally true) and scourge of magica de spell (not even remotely true as Magica has the same problem with face blindess scrooge has with Darkwing and just Darkwing but with everyone). Rockerduck tries to complain but the crowd turns on him, our heroes escape, and Louie compliments violet. As for how she did it meditation, which fits her pefectly so I easily accept it, and a spice of the month club.. which is oddly specific but eh, this bit was really fun so i’ll give it to her. Plus her usualy steely demanor means she likely has a great poker face.. as seen by the fact sh’es soon guling a nearbye trough of water and screaming. Great. As you can tell I liked this segment better, as it’s a clever duel that uses wit instead of strength ilke the others this episode, and forces Louie to find his real strength as his usual one backfires and really helps define Violet even more giving her a strong sense of truth, which fits her like a glove, and a nice dynamic with Louie. It was an odd pairing, but it worked wonders and brought the episode back to life after the last segment killed some of the momentum. And thankfully that momentum keeps rolling into the best segement:

Huey and Lena: Harnessing Your Inner Feral Goblin Child for the Greater Good

As you’d expect, our heroes are doing what they do best: Lena is trying to reign in a quirky nerd, and Huey is overthinking everything by trying to triangulate where the blade of the sword is. Naturally Lena just finds it as it’s embeeded in a compasss pattern on the earth, hence being part of the earth. Unsurprisingly Lena’s solution.. is to wack it free with a mallet... you know there’s a reson she’s one of my favorites and it’s nice to see two of my faviorites who haven’t interacted hardly at all have some time together. Naturally Huey objects to destroying the thing they came for and figures out how to remove it using the clues. Unfortunately for him, but happily for me, Steelbeak is back!

I missed this feral asshole, and Jason while not getting a ton of lines sadly, does make the best of what he has, and is used less as himself on purpose. Also while he’s still kind of a moron, as I mentioned in my Tiff of the Titans review, this version is still CLEVER. He may not be book smart, but he can think on his feet and come up with plans and here.. his plan was the best of the three we’ve seen: Just wait for the ducks to come by and solve it for him and then beat them up and take it or as he puts it “Not the first time a nerd did my homework for me. “ Dumb dosen’t always mean incompetent, and he still has his classic self’s easy sense of planning. Had Lena not been there he would’ve won his piece and been the ONLY member of his group to do so. But Lena is there and now fully trained, so she stops steelbeak by freezing time, Za Warudo! style. Though unlike DIO she can’t manipulate anything, or go get a steam roller though given her powers she can probably make something into one, so tha’ts still on the table. She instead enters someone’s mindscape and uses that to freeze time for a bit.. how .. I have no idea, but it’s an interesting concept and the white look of the void their in now is neat, with only steelbeak himself present in a black and white negative of himself. Huey takes this as time to plan indeiftely till he finds one that works, shooting down actually fighting Steelbeak as “a cowardly brute’s way out”. We then get a great montage as Huey tries everything, from reasoning, to barganing, to crying, to a TON of hilarious and obviously ineffectual disgusies, to lying.. which as you’d expect is simply holding the massive sword blade behind his back and going “what sword.” It’s a really great montage that shows off two things: Danny Pudi’s talent, and that Huey.. can’t reason or trick his way out of this. He can’t plan his way out. And that’s why Steelbeak is the perfect foe to put him up against: Unlike Webby who faced something she could understand and Louie, who simply faced his evil counterpart, Huey faces his exact oppsotie: Huey thrives on logic and as we soon learns bury’s his emotions and impulses and dosen’t fight unless he HAS TO and even then it’s usually in a group. Steelbeak.. is a dumb, impulsive, thug who thinks out his plans on the fly, if at all, laughs at logic, and thinks the best solution to everything is punch it or blow it up. He can’t be reasoned with, Huey isn’t good enough at deception to trick him, and outrunning him was the first thing Huey tried and failed miserably. Steelbeak is made of huey’s blind spot, his inablaity to act without thinking. And he can’t fight it.

While Lena’s humored him despite her annoyance with Huey’s stubborness, she finally breaks and tries to force him to admit he has to brute force his way out, with Huey refusing.. but his refusal brings out a door to “the duke of making a mess”. Naturally something this ominous and personal, and the fact they have no other options and she wants to prove a point, is catnip to Lena who lets the king out.. who turns out to be what you’d get if Bart Simpson’s evil deformed twin Hugo and the messed up Dipper Clone from Gravity Falls did a fusion dance. While also in a nice nod looking VERY similar, with his broad fangs and red eyes, to the evil version of mickey from runaway brain. It’s also somehow the SECOND TIME i’ve seen a child supress his negative emotions to the point they manifested into a person shoved deep inside our hero’s head. Lena naturally loves this feral goblin who Huey explains as all his impulses and emotoins, his spur of the moemnt ones anyway, funneled into one being so he can use logic and only logic. So basically.. Huey is bruce banner.. get.. this kid.. some therapy.

Point is Huey dosen’t want to embrace his wild side, while Lena points out he needs to, and that sh’es learned from experince being a part of ones self someone ignored entirely as Magica’s shadow he can’t just ignore this and hope it goes away. And given Bruce Banner eventually got several more split personalities which turn into hulking rage monsters, which are a sadist with a good core, a raging child and a las vega leg breaker, and that KO repressing TKO just lead to his other half killing everything he loved and only getting that snapped back thanks to god himself... yeah maybe Lena’s right. And this really brilliantly plays into Lena’s development: Her past two episodes have been entirely about her solving a problem, her nightmares and her wondering magic, that she’s been running from by facing it. She’s learned by now you can’t just ignore something and expect it to go away. Again, that’s how you get Hulks. You have to face your sometimes literal demons and yourself to get better and make things better. And now she’s learned that, it’s Huey’s turn. His entire problem has been that he functions entirely on reason and when reason can’t work, he falls apart. It’s something I honed in on last week and has come up again. The point Lena, and the episode, is making with this bit is that sometimes you just have to trust yourself and go with your gut. Huey, reluctnatly lets the duke out who goes Donald on Steelbeak... seriously while the big team shot of the cousins and triplets at the end of season 2 showed Huey as Fethry.. he’s easily the most Donald of the group. He’s considerate, romantic, seriously the date he set up for Fenton really was sweet and Violet is in for some very nice evenings.. but also stubborn, prone to mental breakdowns, badly needs therapy (which donald IS getting so there’s hope), and when angry is a demon sent straight from hell. I REALLY hope this gets pointed out at some point. However without focus the Duke is useless so Lena convinces Huey that he needs to not fight the duke as some evil demonic part of him but accept him: USE his rationality and strategy with his more violent and angry impulses. The two reunite with a hand shake, seriously i’m getting so many KO and TKO vibes this episode what the actual hell, and thei rmerged self easily beats steelbeak witha wedgie and tied shoelaces. It’s beautiful to see and Lena is brought to tears. Before we get to the finale, this was EASILY the best segment, using Lena’s character growth to faciltiate Huey’s that’s been going on all season: making him see he needs to step out of his comfort zone of logic and accept his own inner strenght, his complete self, to really function. It’s good well done stuff and the setting is really intresting. THE FINALE: You are my Inner Strength

So naturally all the parts come together as Scrooge and Heron’s fight lands near Huey and Lena with Webby, Dewey, Violet and Louie all showing up soon after. Scrooge in a really nice moment is utterly proud of the kids, having had the utmost faith in them to get the pieces, and having his faith validated. He may be a cynical, sometimes assholish, old man.. but he loves and believes in his kids and future kids in law, he trusts them more than himself and he’s come far enough to not doubt them when he needs them most. FOWL however has regrouped, and Scrooge.. just gives them the assembled sword. Unsurprisingly, if still awesomely this is a ploy: Heron tries using the sword.. but it flies out of her hand and into Scrooges. He out gambited them. Also getting JoJo’s Bizzare Adventure vibes this episode with all the planning and counter planning and I am loving it. As he explains the sword reponds to true inner strength, while heron is all surface level: All malice and schemes and nothing beneath her character, as are the others. There 3 dimensional characters.. but their all pretty open with who they are and not really open to introspection, where as our heroes are and thus grew.. and Scrooge already knows his inner strength: The kids. THey helped him become a better person, all of them except violet and she just joined the family give her time. They’ve all helped him let his walls down and let people in again after the tragedy of della destroyed him emotionally and put the walls up thick, with Lena being the one to finally get him to destroy them for good. They’ve all helped him be better and he’s helped them all be better in turn, giving them a live of adventure where there their best selves and becoming great kids who will become incredible adults. Their love for one another is what drives them. And thus activates the sword. FOWL seemingly decides to just book and our heroes have won. Scrooge rewards his kids, new additons included, with some street meat cut byt he sword, and we get nice little shots of the lessons having sunk in with Huey knawing into his like a rabid wolf and Dewey and Webby sharing theirs blindly i’ts a sweet conclusion to a fun episode. But given we’re in the thick of the story arc now, FOWL naturally didn’t just book it for no reason.. this was all a setup. Heron calls back to Bradford with a mission accomplished and a lock of scrooge’s feathers.

It’s genuinely impressive as there’s no way F.O.W.L. can loose here: They win the sword.. and they have both the feathers for whatever nightmare they have planned for the Ducks, and another Missing Mystery for their grand scheme. They loose.. and they likely already have a plan to get any mysteries the ducks gather, just like last time, and they still get what they want. Either way Scrooge and the audience are unaware of the real plan, and FOWL is still ahead.

Dew-abolical!

Final Thoughts for the Episode as a Whole:

While a bit weaker than the last two weeks, and almost entirely thanks to the first segment, this episode is still a fun ride and a great way to kick things off now the ducks and F.O.W.L. are both on the offensive. It was also a great way to bring the Saberwing Sisters back and give them some fresh dynamics outside of Webby for a change, bring back some old faviorite vilians and in general pack a fun, Barks and Rosa style adventure story into the myth arc while still dripping with the character progression and dynamics this show lives for. One dark spot aside this really is a great episode, and the other two segements are clever and fun enough to easily ignore that. This season continues to be the show at it’s absolute peak doing what it’s always done best: taking the past and making something fantastic with it. Next Week: The kids, sadly minus my girls, audition to replace Zeus! Horay! Finally Zeus got MeTooed! It took long enough.. I mean they wrote entire sonets about his sex crimes. This isn’t a Bill Cosby situation where it suprised the general public, no one liked him since greek times to begin with. Also DAISY RETURNS! Horay! And so does the incredible storkules, MASTER OF COCKBLOCKING! Also Horay! Seriously unlike the last two blocks of episodes there’s not a one i’m not excited about in the bunch. Until then you can check my blogs for more reviews, and I plan to do the first episode this month and adjust my patreon rewards accordingly. You can follow said patreon at pateron dot com/popculturebuffet, comission reviews of other ducktales or cartoon episodes for 5 dollars an episode by shooting me an ask or message on here, and get out and vote tomorrow.. that’s not related to me but given how crucial this election is. Do it get out and vote. Until we meet again it’s been a pleasure.

#ducktales #the split sword of swanstaintine #ducktales spoilers #scrooge mcduck #webby vanderquack #dewey duck #lena saberwing #violet saberwing #huey duck #louie duck #john d rockerduck #gandra dee #steelbeak #black heron #f.o.w.l.#weblena #huelet

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kaimerala · 4 years

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A Very Red Dead Christmas

Merry Christmas @spursthatgojinglejangle from your @rdrsecretsanta! I hope your holidays are as fun as a night on the town with the Van Der Linde gang! Just don’t get arrested ;)

I got a bit carried away with your request, but who can resist Arthur being a big softie around cute animals? Hope you like it!

Friends in cold places

Summary: After Arthur is sent on a mission to find a Christmas tree for the gang, he gets caught out in a blizzard in Tall Trees. He finds shelter in an abandoned cabin, where he befriends another lost soul.

Word count 7k+

“You want me to do what?”

Arthur had been enjoying a quiet afternoon on watch duty before Dutch appeared. The leader of the Van Der Linde gang glowed with excitement at his latest brilliant idea.

“I want you to get us a Christmas tree!” Dutch repeated.

“Two days ago you told me to beat up a man for money,” Arthur said after a drag on his cigarette, “and today you want me to get you a fancy tree?”

“It’s for your family, son,” Dutch said, stars in his eyes. “What better way to boost morale than to get a real Christmas tree and decorate it?”

Arthur chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Dutch asked.

“I know I don’t have no choice in the matter.”

“Oh come on, Arthur! Think of what it would mean to young Jack.”

Arthur rolled the cigarette between his fingers, not meeting Dutch’s gaze. Sure, Jack was a good kid, but was his happiness worth the wolves and frostbite?

“Dutch, we just spent a year in the goddamn Grizzlies. Plenty of Christmas trees there. You sure there’s nothin’ else you need me to do? Nothin’ more… important?”

Dutch removed a cigar from one of the pockets on his vest. Arthur struck a match for him. “You can take one of them O’Driscoll horses we acquired last week,” Dutch said through a cloud of smoke. “That chestnut one is bigger than Alfred MacAlister’s ego. He could be a decent pack horse.”

“Hmf. As long as he doesn’t annoy Boadicea.”

Arthur sighed in resignation. Dutch would not be dissuaded.

“Fine. I’ll go tomorrow. If I don’t come back, remember you was the one who sent me to the mountains in the middle of winter for a tree.”

Dutch smiled victoriously. “That’s the spirit, son! The Christmas spirit!”

His task accomplished, Dutch turned and walked back to camp, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts and a cigarette stub.

The Van Der Linde gang had just settled in West Elizabeth, next to the Upper Montana River. They were less than an hour’s ride from Blackwater, their camp well-hidden in a grove of trees. The climate was milder in the south, but Arthur missed the solitude of the mountains. With no lawmen willing to follow their trail, the gang had enjoyed a freedom they had not tasted for years. But Dutch had big plans for Blackwater.

Charles appeared at dusk to swap shifts. The newcomer had already proven himself as a deadly gunman and brawler, but he never raised his voice or drank to excess. He possessed a quiet strength that Arthur admired.

“Dutch said you’re heading out tomorrow,” said Charles. His eyes were fixed ahead, on the plains of West Elizabeth rolling before them. “He mentioned something about Tall Trees.”

“Yeah. Not my first choice this time of year,” Arthur replied. “I take it the whole gang knows I’m on a very important mission to get a Christmas tree?”

“Dutch couldn’t contain himself. Everyone knows except for Jack and Abigail; he wants it to be a surprise for them.”

Arthur smiled and shook his head.

“Sounds about right. See ya later.”

Arthur shouldered his rifle and followed Charles’s footprints back to camp. Even now he still looked for Copper, but no-one ran up to greet him. He missed having a dog around.

The camp was nearly empty: most of the Van Der Linde gang were out scouting for opportunities or having fun in Blackwater and Strawberry. The soft glow of a kerosene lantern inside Dutch’s tent indicated that he was sharing a private evening with Molly. Abigail and Jack were in their tent too, already asleep. Pearson and Susan were standing together a short distance from camp, smoking and gossiping in the rapidly fading light. Which left the usual suspects sitting around the fire: John, Bill, Uncle, and Micah.

“Mister Morgan!” Micah drawled, his voice slurred with whiskey. “Seen any fairies today? Or Sasquatches?”

“Just the ones I’m seein’ now.”

This earned a drunken guffaw from John, but the others weren’t impressed.

“Think you’re so clever, eh Morgan?” Bill said thickly. “Well you ain’t smart.”

“Never said I was,” Arthur replied, walking past the campfire to Pearson’s stew pot. “But I do more work than any of you cowpokes.”

This led to an outcry from Bill, Micah, and Uncle. It was almost too easy to rile them up. John laughed: he was too far gone to care about anything.

Arthur ignored them, scooping Pearson’s stew into a bowl. There was meat in it today, but he couldn’t tell what species had made it into the pot.

“Dutch said you was goin’ to get us a Christmas tree,” Micah jeered. “You’re goin’ to freeze your ass off up there, Morgan.”

“Least I got an ass to freeze, Micah.”

The others howled in drunken laughter, and Arthur could hear Pearson and Susan joining in nearby. Micah shot him a dirty look. Normally, Arthur would have enjoyed a night of drinking and singing by the campfire, but not with this lot. He walked around them, back to the ammunition wagon, and sat on his cot.

The other gang members quickly forgot about him, allowing Arthur to enjoy his dinner in peace. That was, until Miss Kitty found him.

“Hey, Kitty.”

The tabby cat meowed in reply, and jumped up onto his cot. She eyed his bowl expectantly, without shame. Arthur picked out a piece of lamb, or whatever it was, and gave it to her. Miss Kitty wolfed it down, and meowed for more.

The gang had found her in Montana, or more precisely she had found them. Miss Kitty enjoyed her employment as Camp Mouser and Foot Warmer. She was surprisingly confident around humans, including little Jack Marston, but nonetheless discerning with her affection. Copper had been a lovable dumbass who adored anyone who even so much as looked at him, but Miss Kitty chose her friends carefully. She avoided anyone who was drinking, or shouting, or acting out. Otherwise she enjoyed games and cuddles with most of the gang. And Miss Kitty knew Arthur was a soft touch when it came to food. There was usually plenty in the pot, so he didn’t mind sharing.

“Leave some for me, Miss Kitty,” he chided, offering her another piece of meat.

Once the bowl was empty, Arthur wrote in his journal. He even sketched the tabby cat, curled up in a contented ball on his cot. He washed his face and hair, and trimmed his beard. In the absence of better company, Miss Kitty stayed nearby, exploring in and around the ammunition wagon.

When he finally lay down for the night, a book in hand, Miss Kitty jumped back up onto Arthur’s cot. She stepped onto his chest.

“I don’t have any food.”

But Miss Kitty ignored him, settling down and purring up a storm.

“Well, ain’t you a nice kitty,” Arthur said, rubbing her cheeks and ears. Miss Kitty was so relaxed she began to knead his undershirt. In the end Arthur gave up on reading and fell asleep, soothed by Miss Kitty’s capable paws.

When Arthur woke in the morning a thick fog had settled over the campsite. Miss Kitty had vanished, probably to hunt for some breakfast. He roused the coals of Pearson’s cooking fire and set about brewing some coffee. The camp was silent except for snoring from a few of the gang members: it was a miracle that the law couldn’t hear them from Blackwater.

Arthur warmed up a can of baked beans, which he enjoyed with a much-needed coffee beside the fire. Around him the gang began to stir. He poured Susan a cup, which she gratefully accepted.

Once his morning chores were finished it was time to saddle up. He would be riding for the best part of a day to get to the edge of Tall Trees, but not just any old tree would do: he would have to travel deeper into the forest to find the best-looking ones.

Boadicea was hitched at the gang’s horse station, on the outskirts of the camp. The dapple grey Andalusian nickered a greeting to him, which brought a smile to his lips.

“Hi girl,” he murmured, stroking her neck. “We’re headin’ out for a few days. You can thank Dutch when we’re freezing our rumps off.” She blinked, watching him with her dark eyes. She kept both ears trained on Arthur as he brushed and saddled her. Boadicea was a special horse: beautiful and clever and courageous. A warrior queen, just like her namesake.

The big chestnut gelding was next. Someone had the foresight to hitch him next to Boadicea, so they would get used to each other’s company. The chestnut was seventeen hands of solid muscle, better suited to a cart than a saddle. He stood as tall as a mountain, so the first name that came to Arthur’s mind was Hagen.

The gelding pinned his ears at Arthur’s approach, but his apprehension switched to curiosity when the man spent some time introducing himself. A few oatcakes and a brush all over had Hagen calm and responsive. Arthur despised folks who treated their animals like unfeeling lumps of horseflesh.

“Alright, feller,” he soothed. “Let’s see if you’ll take a pack saddle.”

Hagen stood quietly while Arthur tightened the cinch and adjusted the straps. Boadicea secretly watched them the whole time, pretending to be fascinated by something in the fog. She was the jealous type, and failed miserably at hiding it.

Arthur finally mounted up, Boadicea’s reins in his left hand and Hagen’s lead rope in his right, and guided them through the trees. Charles was still on watch duty; Bill had not yet woken up after the night of heavy drinking.

“Good luck, Arthur.”

“Thanks Charles. Give Bill a kick for me, will ya?”

Charles smiled, his eyes dull with exhaustion. “I’ll give him two.”

Arthur tipped his hat and rode out onto the prairie. He nudged Boadicea into a smooth lope, and they enjoyed an easy ride across the plains. Hagen kept up at first, eager to make a good impression, but with his great size he tired faster than the mare. So they slowed to a steady jog, all the while heading west towards Tall Trees.

The fog burned up by mid-morning, revealing a crisp, clear winter’s day. Arthur followed the muddy roads that scarred the prairie, humming to himself to pass the time. The gang were still new here, and as such they weren’t wanted in West Elizabeth - yet. He greeted the farmers, hunters, and fellow travelers that he passed on the road. Most of them were friendly enough, while others just wanted to be left alone.

Arthur stopped hourly to rest, letting the horses graze for a few minutes before moving on. Around midday he found a sheltered spot on the banks of the Upper Montana River, and built a small fire. The sun was out but the wind blowing down from the mountains leeched the warmth from his bones. Arthur spent a good amount of time by the fire, defrosting his numb face and hands. The horses also enjoyed the break from the relentless wind, grazing together on patches of green grass.

After a lunch of pan-fried, freshly caught bluegill, Arthur knew it was time to push on. In less than an hour the sky had turned from clear to overcast with the threat of a storm. He wanted to reach the forest before it hit as the trees would provide some protection.

The clouds turned steely grey as they rode west. The wind didn’t let up, rising to a howl as they sighted the first stands of spruce and fir. Arthur checked the time; it was past three when thin, watery snowflakes began to fall. They dissolved on the grass and soaked into Arthur’s jacket. He almost lost his hat after a massive wind gust, and stowed it safely in a saddle bag.

Boadicea snorted uneasily. It wasn’t a predator scent that worried her, so it must have been the weather.

“Almost there, girl.”

Hagen didn’t look too happy either, and he stuck to Boadicea like glue. Arthur knew that only a big storm would upset the horses. Finding Dutch’s Christmas tree would have to wait.

They pushed against the wind, tracking deeper into Tall Trees. The snow began to settle on the ground now, and quickly buried the road. At first Arthur could figure out where the trail was, but soon everything began to look the same. There were no road signs out here. He only figured that they were lost when Boadicea stumbled over a hidden rock.

Arthur dismounted and led the horses forward, looking for any shelter from the weather. They were now lost outside in a blizzard, soaked and freezing, with night rapidly approaching. They wouldn’t last long if they didn’t find a windbreak.

He almost didn’t hear the snort from Boadicea, even though her nose was next to his ear. It was hopeful sound, and it gave Arthur hope too.

“What is it?”

He could hardly see a few feet in front of him, and it was only thanks to Boadicea’s keen senses that they found the cabin. She pulled on the reins, guiding Arthur to the left. A small building materialized in the storm, and the three hurried towards it.

Boadicea had brought them to a log cabin and a lean-to that looked like a stable. The cabin’s shutters were closed and no smoke rose from the chimney.

Arthur led the horses into the stable. It was a crude building, with three walls and a hitching post inside. No animals had been stabled there for a while as there was no fodder or tack. It had been cleaned out, either by its former owners or thieves, but at least it offered respite from the wind and snow.

He removed the saddles from both horses, using a sweat scraper and his own blanket to dry them off. Next, Arthur opened a bag of provisions on the pack saddle, tipping vegetables and oatcakes into the food trough. The food had been for him, but the horses would not be able to graze any time soon.

Once Boadicea and Hagen were secured to the hitching post and happily munching away on their dinner, Arthur drew his revolver and walked to the cabin door. It was slightly ajar, and dark inside, but he wouldn’t be taking any chances.

He pressed his shoulder against the door, aiming inside. Arthur couldn’t hear anything over the wind so he shoved it open. Once his eyes adjusted to the gloom he discovered a bed with a stained mattress, an empty fireplace, and a writing desk.

Arthur exhaled in relief and stepped into the cabin, closing the door. It muffled the wind’s howl and he could finally think properly. He struck a match and lit his oil lantern.

Like the stable, the cabin had been cleared of anything remotely valuable. There was a tattered photograph of a married couple on the wall and a few orphan pieces of cutlery, but that was it. It smelled musty with disuse. There weren’t even any logs for the fireplace, so he hacked up the desk chair with his hatchet and used the pieces for kindling. The desk would be sacrificed next.

The cabin and the stables, though rudimentary, were both in reasonable condition. Arthur wondered if something evil had befallen its owner. Perhaps it had simply been abandoned, or it served as a seasonal retreat for an author or artist.

As he built up the fire, his guard lowered, Arthur heard a high-pitched whine from somewhere behind him. He jumped up, knife already in hand.

There was no-one there, but he knew he had heard something. Arthur picked up the lantern and checked under the bed.

He found a dog hunkered down in the corner. The frightened creature avoided his gaze, cowering and trying to make itself as small as possible. It had shaggy fur, but Arthur couldn’t see the dog well enough to tell if it was purebred or a mutt.

“Hey there,” he said softly. “Come on. Out you come.”

The dog shivered, sticking to its corner. Arthur realized it could have hydrophobia, so he didn’t try to touch it. At least there was an easy way to find out if it was sick or not.

Arthur ducked out into the storm retrieve the saddles, and once the fire had reached a good size he melted a pot of fresh snow. After taking a draught himself he placed the pan under the bed, holding up the oil lamp to see. The dog was either too terrified or sick to drink. So Arthur decided to start cooking, hoping that the smell of meat would entice the dog out.

As he prepared his dinner, he heard the dog slurping up water from the saucepan. Definitely not hydrophobia! Arthur didn’t turn around, concentrating instead on heating the contents of the skillet. His dinner was a mess of tinned food: corned beef, peas, and kidney beans. He also had half a bread roll left over after fishing for the bluegill, and a tin of peaches for later. But what he was most looking forward to was the coffee: the percolator was already working its magic and he poured himself a mug.

Arthur sighed after his first sip. By the time he reached the grit at the bottom he felt human again.

He removed his gloves, hanging them by the fire to dry. The dog’s eyes were on his back, but he didn’t turn around so as not to frighten it further.

Once his dinner was piping hot and bubbling, Arthur removed it from the fire and ate straight from the skillet. If Susan Grimshaw was nearby she would have boxed his ear! After a few mouthfuls he decided to try his luck with enticing the dog out. He picked out a juicy piece of beef and flicked it under the bed, turning back to the fire.

“Come on, feller,” he soothed. “Got some more for you here.” He could tell from its rough-looking coat that the poor creature was starving.

But the frightened dog didn’t come out, and Arthur figured he would just leave the skillet for the dog overnight. With nothing much else to do he set about cleaning up and getting ready for bed. He walked outside one more time to check on the horses. Boadicea and Hagen watched him approach, hopeful for more food, but all Arthur could offer them was a conciliatory pat. The storm might last for days, so the remainder of his supplies had to be rationed.

He walked around to the cabin and pushed the door open. The dog had snuck out from its hiding spot, wolfing Arthur’s leftovers. It froze and shot him a wary look before scuttling back under the bed, tail tucked firmly between its legs. It looked like some kind of sheepdog.

“It’s okay, boy!” Arthur said, closing the door behind him. He did not move. “Come on out.”

After a minute of waiting he was about to give up and walk over to the fire, until the timid dog emerged. Clearly its hunger was greater than its sense of self-preservation.

The sheepdog devoured the rest of the corned beef, licking the skillet clean. The dog looked up at Arthur for more.

“Well, I guess I can find something else.”

Arthur rummaged through his satchel and retrieved a wedge of cheese in wax paper. He broke off a bit and tossed it to the dog. The cheese was gone in a second.

“Between you and Miss Kitty I’m gonna starve, you know that?”

He broke off more tidbits of cheese for the dog, and discovered a few crackers crushed up inside their box. He knelt down, offering the food in his hand. The sheepdog approached slowly, still wary, but starvation was a powerful motivator. Despite the scruffy coat the dog looked like it was young, maybe two or three years old. Still a pup.

The hungry dog licked up the crumbs from his palm, but darted away when Arthur moved.

“What happened to you, feller?” he asked. “I’m sure someone used to care for you.”

He stood up and the dog flinched, but it didn’t retreat under the bed this time.

“I’d say that’s progress. We’re friends now.”

The dog stayed back as Arthur tidied the cabin and built up the fire with a few more planks. Although it was scared, the dog had definitely lived with humans before. So what was it doing out here all alone?

Arthur’s pocket watch read 7 p.m. - still too early to sleep. So he grabbed a bottle of bourbon from one of Boadicea’s saddle bags and sat on the edge of the filthy bed. It smelt like the dog had been using it for a while.

He wrote in his journal first, in case he forgot or drank too much to write legibly. He mentioned his success with Hagen, getting trapped out in a snowstorm, and finding the lost dog. He filled the opposite page with sketches: Boadicea and Hagen, a sizzling fillet of bluegill on the fire, the cabin, and of course the sheepdog. He did not show his drawings to anyone, but Karen had snuck up behind him once and commented on how good they were.

The dog lay down next to the fire with a huff, keeping an ear on Arthur. It was a miracle the poor creature had not frozen or starved to death out here, but it had come close.

A few swigs of bourbon had Arthur relaxed and inspired to sing. The bawdy songs from the Van Der Linde campfire were out of place here, so he sang Poor Lonesome Cowboy. It was one of the few he knew all the lyrics to. He never thought of himself as a good singer, and even the dog closed its eyes. He chuckled at the end of the song and drank deeply.

As he stared into the fire, another song plucked at the edge of his mind. Arthur didn’t like to sing it around the others - even though it was an old tune, it always felt too personal. Not that the newer gang members knew about his life. He preferred it that way.

He sighed, and lay back on the mattress.

The years creep slowly by, Eliza, The snow is on the grass again, The sun's low down the sky, Eliza, The frost gleams where the flow’rs have been. But the heart throbs on as warmly now, As when the summer days were nigh, Oh, the sun can never dip so low, A-down affection’s cloudless sky.

He sang the whole song to himself, his voice barely rising above the crackling fire or the wind pressing against the cabin.

It matters little now, Eliza, The past is in the eternal past, Our heads will soon lie low, Eliza, Life's tide is ebbing out so fast. There is a future, O thank God, Of life this is so small a part, 'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod; But there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.

Arthur let the silence drag on after the final verse. He blinked back tears. What a sentimental fool he was!

He sat up on the bed, about to retrieve his blanket, and his breath caught in fright. The dog was standing right beside the bed, watching him. When their eyes met the sheepdog wagged its tail once. Arthur reached out and the dog permitted him a scratch behind the ears.

“You know that song, boy?” he sniffed.

The dog licked his hand.

“Don’t tell no-one.”

The latch was flimsy, so Arthur pushed the saddles against the door. He picked up the still-damp blanket from the floor, and balled up a clean shirt to make a pillow.

The bed squeaked in protest as he stretched out again. The mattress was thin and lumpy and it stank, but he couldn’t complain - at least he wasn’t camped out in this storm, and he had coffee and a fire. Just as he closed his eyes, the sheepdog leapt up onto the foot of the bed. It paused again, waiting for Arthur’s reassurance.

“Here, boy.”

The dog moved gingerly, as though walking on coals, before curling up next to Arthur’s middle.

“We’re a sight, aren’t we?” Arthur mumbled. “Heh. Keep your fleas to yourself.”

He slipped into a restful sleep, and dreamed of riding across the plains.

The wind died down sometime during the night, and Arthur woke to a silent morning. The dog remained at his side, grateful for the warmth and company.

After last night’s bourbon binge, he had to answer the call of nature, and fast. Arthur got up with a sigh and cleared the doorway to get outside. He blinked and squinted as the door opened, his eyes adjusting from the dark cabin to the white forest. The storm had dumped two feet of snow in Tall Trees, and it was still falling. The flakes drifted lazily through the canopy, alighting soundlessly on the ground. The sheepdog appeared beside him in the doorway, yawning and stretching.

The two walked out, Arthur plowing through the snow and the dog trotting behind. They relieved themselves next to the cabin. The dog cocked a leg against a bush, confirming Arthur’s suspicion that underneath all that fur it was male. Now he had to give the dog a name.

The horses were quiet, and Arthur walked around to the stable. His heart dropped.

“Shit!”

Boadicea and Hagen had vanished. There were no tracks leading out, so they had been spirited away sometime in the night. He raised his fingers to his lips and a piercing whistle rang out through the forest. Arthur listened out for any answering call, but there was only silence.

The dog appeared next to him, alert and ready for action.

“Goddamn it, I’m not lookin’ for you.”

An idea came to Arthur then. The dog was scrawny and weak, but he was a sheepdog.

“Come on, feller.”

The dog followed him into the stable. There was no sign of a struggle. Arthur squatted down in the mud, and pointed at the frozen hoof prints. The dog sniffed, and looked up at Arthur quizzically. Arthur sighed. A bloodhound would have followed it straight away.

“Ugh. Stay here.”

The dog ignored him, following him back into the cabin. So Arthur placed the saddles before the dog, letting him sniff them.

“Can you find ‘em for me?”

The sheepdog cocked his head. He was familiar with the smell of horses, but unsure of what was being asked of him. He cowered, not understanding Arthur’s anger and frustration.

“I’m sorry, boy,” he said, trying to calm down.

Arthur built up the fire again until it was blazing hot. He broke off some twigs from a pine tree outside and placed them on the fire. Fragrant smoke filled the cabin, but most of it went up into the chimney. It would help him to find his way back.

He quickly packed up, making sure that his revolvers and rifle were clean and loaded. While Arthur didn’t want to cause trouble in West Elizabeth so soon after moving in, he would do whatever was necessary to get his horses back. Before he left, he cut himself a slice of salted beef, and gave the dog some too.

“Stay,” he said firmly.

Arthur closed the cabin door, leaving the dog inside with the saucepan of water. The dog was too weak to come with him. Or so he thought.

As he pushed through the snow, he could only guess where the horses had gone. Few people lived in Tall Trees, and they either lived alone or in small camps. The only settlement here was Manzanita Post, and like everyone else in the forest they were wary of outsiders. Probably with good reason.

Arthur heard a weak bark behind him, and stopped in his tracks. The dog! It had slipped through the door, and was following his trail. He crouched down as the dog approached, and smiled despite his mood. He scratched him behind the ears.

“I can’t look after you out here,” Arthur said gently. “Let’s go back.”

They turned and followed the trail; he had not made it far. Arthur noticed the dog sniffing around and had another idea. He walked back into the cabin and brought out the blanket he had used last night, the same one he had used to dry the horses off. He crouched down and held it out to the dog.

“Can you find ‘em for me? Find.”

This time the dog seemed to get it, and he jumped off Arthur’s trail and into the fresh snow. It was higher than his shoulders, but the sheepdog courageously bounded through it. He checked the area around the cabin and stable, circling out into the trees. Arthur also figured it was better to start here than blindly walk into the forest. The bears were hibernating, but there were still plenty of other big predators around. There might even be rival gangs in Tall Trees that he didn’t know about. He checked the trees for horse hair or broken branches - there must be some clue to Boadicea and Hagen’s whereabouts.

After a few minutes of searching, a yap echoed through the trees. Arthur hurried over to the sheepdog and found him standing proudly, tail wagging. The trees were thick here, catching most of the snow on their branches. Beneath them there was a narrow, shallow depression in the snow leading away from the cabin. A horse trail!

“Good boy!” Arthur praised. “You did it!”

He rewarded the dog with a piece of cheese. The dog smiled back at him for the first time, tail wagging in a blur.

“Find! Find ‘em, boy!” Arthur pointed down the trail, and the sheepdog set off, nose down and eager to please. Arthur noticed that some of the lower twigs had snapped, and the branches were holding less snow than the ones above after the horses had brushed past.

When the trail disappeared, covered by snow, the dog’s keen nose was quick to find it again. Arthur struggled to keep up as he watched out for his horses, the dog, wild animals, and any unfriendly people.

After maybe twenty minutes, he stopped and whistled again. The dog paused, and the forest returned to silence. Then, a faint, answering cry came from ahead.

“That’s Boadicea! We did it!”

He shrugged the rifle from his shoulder. If the horses had been stolen, there could be a fight. The dog raced eagerly ahead, but Arthur called him back.

“Come here, boy. Heel.”

The sheepdog whined, obviously keen to round up the horses, but he bounded back to Arthur’s side.

“Good dog.”

They stalked through the trees, Arthur wary of a trap, while the dog listened out for danger. When there was a rustle ahead, Arthur stopped and raised his rifle. Boadicea appeared through the trees, complete with bridle and reins, and whinnied when she saw him. He lowered his gun.

“Boadicea! I missed you, girl!”

Hagen appeared after her, and both horses trotted up to Arthur. To his relief, they didn’t have so much as a scratch or bump on them. Arthur hugged Boadicea, even giving her a kiss on the nose. He didn’t know Hagen well enough yet to give him a hug, but the gelding appreciated a pat and shoulder scratch.

When Arthur’s gaze returned to Boadicea, he noticed the mare studying the sheepdog.

“Easy, girl,” he said. “He’s coming back with us.”

Boadicea was clever enough to figure out that the scrawny pup wasn’t a threat. She flicked her dark mane, ignoring the dog and basking in Arthur’s attention.

It was obvious now that the horses had escaped from the stable by themselves. Boadicea was too clever for her own good and a serial escape artist. Arthur figured that in his haste yesterday evening he hadn’t tied a decent knot. The mare had freed herself and Hagen, both leaving the lean-to during the night in search of something to eat.

“Don’t ever make me worry like that again,” he scolded, but he wasn’t really angry. Just relieved.

He gathered up Boadicea’s reins and Hagen’s lead rope, and was about to walk back to the cabin when he noticed that the dog had wandered off.

“Hey! Dog!” he called. It definitely needed a name.

He sighed when the sheepdog didn’t reappear - maybe he was jealous of the horses getting all the attention? This time Arthur led the horses on the dog’s trail. The dog had not wandered far, and was sniffing around in a tiny clearing.

Arthur couldn’t believe it. Encircled by massive pine trees stood a single, perfect fir. It reached just a little bit taller than him, with blue-green needles and a classic conical shape. Dutch’s goddamn Christmas tree.

He shook his head. “Don’t know how you did it, boy.”

The dog realized that he was not alone and looked up with a goofy smile, forgetting about whatever interesting scent trail he had found. He reminded Arthur of someone from a long time ago.

With a firm word to both the dog and horses to stay put, Arthur cut the fir tree. It was almost too heavy for him to lift, but with a bit of clever maneuvering he balanced it across Boadicea and Hagen, securing their bridles together with Hagen’s lead rope. Boadicea grumbled, but Hagen shouldered the weight dutifully.

Arthur did not need to worry about finding the cabin again, as he and the dog followed their fresh trail back. It was still snowing, but the path remained clear.

The sheepdog was definitely flagging now, his limited energy spent on tracking the horses. His long pink tongue lolled, and even with the clear trail he kept stumbling. Arthur eventually picked him up, cradling him, and the dog was too exhausted to protest.

Arthur had already lost so much time, but on checking his pocket watch he realized that he might be able to make it to the camp at night. Even if he couldn’t make it back today, there was no need to stay in the cabin when he could move the horses to decent grazing by the river.

The snowfall ceased as they returned to the cabin. It was now late morning, and Arthur wasted no time in saddling the horses. The exhausted dog lay in a dry corner of the stables, trying not to fall asleep. He was still just a pup, after all.

Arthur cleared the cabin and left it as he had found it: it could be a useful hideout in future. Finally, he heaped snow over the fire until it completely fizzed out.

Boadicea pawed the ground, impatient to leave. She was pleased to have the tree off her back. Hagen now carried it by himself, but he did not complain. He even nibbled one of the branches, but shook his massive head in disgust.

Arthur found the sheepdog snoozing in the stable, and smiled to himself.

“Guess you’ll have to ride with me.”

The pup blinked awake, and yawned. Arthur gathered him up and lifted him onto his shoulder, supporting the dog’s weight with one hand.

“Jeez, kid, you need a bath,” he said, wrinkling his nose.

Arthur mounted up awkwardly, and moved the dog onto his lap. The sheepdog looked around in bewilderment - he had probably never been on a horse before. Using his compass as a guide Arthur steered his clever, mischievous mare to Blackwater.

As the trees thinned and the snow melted away, Boadicea transitioned into an easy lope, eager to move out of the forest. Arthur allowed her to set the pace, concentrating on the dog instead so he didn’t slide off the saddle. He also released some of the lead rope, allowing Hagen to fall back slightly: he was done being smacked by the prickly branches of the fir tree!

Many of the dog names that sprang into his head were… uninspiring. Rufus. Patches. Bob. Sport. Jack. He certainly couldn’t call the dog Jack! Abigail would have a fit. The dog sighed, as if silently agreeing with him. Arthur decided to try out some names later, to see if the sheepdog would respond to any of them.

They stopped on the plains for a late lunch. Hagen and Boadicea devoured the withered grass as though they had not eaten for weeks. The grazing was not as good on the plains as by the river, but they still had a ways to go before they reached water again. The earth was muddy and the grass a dull brown, but at least there was no more snow.

After eating some of Arthur’s meagre lunch - salt beef and baked beans - the dog set about rolling in the mud. Arthur didn’t bother to stop him, as the mud would cover some of the stench.

“Miss Grimshaw’s goin’ to dunk you in a barrel of cold water when we get to camp.”

The dog snorted in delight.

“Heh. You remind me of my boy, Isaac. He used to love gettin’ muddy too.”

The sheepdog left smears of cold mud on Arthur’s snow jacket and trousers once they were up in the saddle. Despite the short rest and a feed of shriveled grass, Boadicea happily kept up a smart jog. She was eager to get back home, where she could eat as much hay as she wanted. Arthur gave her a pat on the neck. Hagen sensed the mare’s excitement, and matched her pace.

Though the overcast sky never cleared, mercifully there was no rain or snow on their ride back to camp. Arthur found a road sign to Blackwater just as the sun melted into the western horizon. They were making good time.

Arthur made it back late, close to midnight. He had lit his oil lantern, and was riding through the dark when a shout came from nearby. Arthur, the dog, and both horses jumped.

“WHO GOES THERE?!”

“It’s Arthur, ya dumbass.”

The warm light from the oil lamp lit up John’s face as he approached. He wasn’t drunk this time. How unusual.

“So, King Arthur has returned with his legendary tree.”

“Shut it, Marston,” Arthur replied sourly. “I got this for your boy.”

John snorted with laughter. “You got it ‘cause Dutch told you to.” He turned and walked back to his post.

Arthur grit his teeth. John was right, of course, but he was too tired to come up with a snappy comeback. He nudged Boadicea forward, and she took them to the horse station.

The dog, still unnamed, stuck by Arthur as he removed the fir tree and saddles. Javier noticed him laboring in the shadows and got up from his bedroll to help.

“Nice work, Arthur,” he said, eyeing the tree. “Dutch will be happy with this.”

“I hope so,” he growled. “Been ridin’ for two days.”

Javier noticed the dog then, sticking close to Arthur for protection, but keeping clear of the horses’ legs.

“Hey, you found a dog!?”

“Yeah, abandoned most likely. He was half-dead when I found him. He’s a good dog: kinda timid, but smart. And he ain’t sick neither, just dirty.”

“It’ll be good to have a dog here again, listening out for trouble. If you’re alright with the horses I can set up the tree?”

Arthur nodded. “Thanks, Javier.”

The horses were already tucking into a hay bale between them, and all Arthur had to do was brush them down and pick out their hooves.

“Good job, Boadicea. You too, Hagen.”

He gave them each a grateful pat on the neck, and walked back to his cot, skirting around the campsite with the dog at his heels. The camp was silent, most of the gang asleep, and they managed to avoid being noticed by anyone else. Arthur would deal with Susan’s wrath tomorrow.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Arthur.”

He blinked awake. He knew instantly that it was early – too early to be awake. The sun had just risen, its weak light twinkling through the trees. The still, cold air caught in his lungs.

Dutch was leaning against the wagon at the foot of Arthur’s bed. He smiled, with a warmth that reached his eyes.

“Ugh, what time is it?” Arthur mumbled.

“Early enough for young Jack. See for yourself.”

Arthur sat up on his cot, the disturbance causing the dog to wake up too. Javier had dug the fir tree into the hard ground in the heart of the Van Der Linde campsite, and Jack and Abigail were already busying themselves with decorating it. Arthur squinted in disbelief – were they actually using gold necklaces and pearls?!

“They had to improvise,” Dutch said. “We don’t have no glass ornaments. The tree could do with some candles, though.”

Arthur lay back on his cot. “Don’t ask me to get those for you, too.”

Dutch laughed. “Rest up, son. But when you’re awake I would like to hear the story of how you got that dog.”

When Arthur finally got out of bed, close to midday, Jack ran up to him. The boy had obviously been waiting. The sheepdog jumped off the cot and shook himself vigorously. Arthur rolled the stiffness from his shoulders with a few satisfying cracks.

“Hey, Uncle Arthur!” Jack said. “Did you get the tree for us?”

Arthur covered up a yawn. “I sure did! You like it?”

“Yeah!”

“Now that’s what I like to hear. You and your momma sure did decorate it nice.”

“Thanks! Can I pat your dog?”

Arthur scratched his short beard. “Um. He’s a bit shy, but he likes food. Here, you can give him some cheese.”

Abigail watched nearby as Jack held out a morsel of cheese. The sheepdog was much less frightened now, and took it gingerly from the boy’s hand.

“What’s his name?” Jack asked.

“He doesn’t have one. Not yet, anyways. Want to help me pick one?”

“Yeah! What about… Spot?”

Arthur smiled. “Not bad. But I don’t think he looks like a Spot to me. How about Jake?”

“I don’t like it.”

As they were talking, the dog sniffed at Arthur’s satchel, eager to get into its contents.

Jack hummed in thought. “Maybe Gilbert?”

“Naw, that’s an old man’s name. He’s still just a pup. Kinda like you!”

Abigail laughed. “Come on, boys. You’ve gotta agree on somethin’.”

“Well, I guess he kinda reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago,” Arthur admitted. “How about, uh, Zach?”

The dog looked up from the satchel, his brown eyes focused on Arthur.

“I think he likes it!” said Jack.

“Yeah. That’s weird…”

Zach moved between Jack and Arthur, asking for a scratch.

Moments later Susan appeared at the ammunition wagon, towering over them with her hands on her hips. Abigail quickly smothered a giggle as the blood drained from Arthur’s face.

“Miss Grimshaw-”

“Don’t you ‘Miss Grimshaw’ me! I ain’t ever seen such filth in my camp before.”

“…is the water warm?”

Susan glared at him. “No. It’s colder than my heart. Now git!”

Arthur got up with a sigh and followed her to the wash basin, dreading the water’s icy touch. Zach followed at his heels, smiling all the way.

The end!

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lemonsandstrawberries · 5 years

Text

Figaro Drabble #13 - Two senior cats

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

universe: Figaro universe

summary: Time is passing and both Tony and Figaro start to feel it. Yet, Steve still loves them the same, if not more.

length: 1 818 words

a/n: I dedicate this fic to the memory of my cat Ramzes, who passed away after twenty years of life, which included ten years of being a street cat and ten years of being a domestic cat. he was a warrior to the very end and the smartest cat I ever knew. I miss you, my black sunshine ❤

————

Figaro Drabble #13

Two senior cats

Tony felt observed. It wasn't the first time in his life when he had eyes following his every move, but this was different. After all, one could expect that during late evening hours, in the privacy of his own bedroom, he deserved some peace and quiet.

Clearly not.

But the lurking presence wasn't unwelcome. It was expected and awaited and when soft paws landed on the bed, Tony lowered his book.

"Hi, buddy," he greeted his fluffy cat, "need a lift?"

Figaro didn't answer, green eyes not leaving Tony. He was a big cat and had no problems with putting his front paws on the bed while standing upright. There was a time when he didn't need to do it at all, and graciously had jumped on the covers, landing softly and taking his favorite spot, right in Tony's lap. No distance or height had been a match for him and his strong, fluffy legs. Those were the good times.

"Alright," Tony put his book aside, and pushed the reading glasses further on his nose, before leaning out and carefully scooping the cat up by his rear paws. He grunted a bit during the action, Figaro was quite heavy and became even heavier because of his less active lifestyle. "There you go. Good?" he asked, settling Figaro in his lap and scratching his cat's cheeks with both hands. Figaro closed his eyes and purred. Yes, good.

Time was passing and from the gawky kitten Tony had found on the street one day, Figaro matured into a beautiful, playful fluffy boy. The Avengers Tower and Avengers Compound's furniture was thoroughly signed by endless claws marks coming from the sharp claws, the fur was flying in the air, and Figaro's strong, melodic meow and the sound of kitty paws running were well known to everyone. More time passed, and from a fluffy, robust ball of energy, Figaro mellowed into a regal adult, spending most of his days on naps and being pampered.

"Okay, clean for the night," Steve announced, leaving the en suite bathroom, and pausing for a second while he saw Figaro already claiming his husband to himself. The possessive little creature still tended to sneak in while he was out of the bed to get the best spot. The best spot being next to Tony, of course. "Already here, huh?" he asked, walking to the bed and lifting the covers up. He moved closer to Tony and joined in petting. "How does he do that?" he asked, meaning the way Figaro was always showing up while he was out of the picture.

"Who knows," Tony answered with a smile, leaning his head against Steve's shoulder. "And thanks, by the way."

"One day you will have to clean the litter box on your own, Tony," Steve answered, sounding exasperated. Since Figaro turned twelve years old he gradually started to have problems with jumping. All his favorite spots had to be brought lower and Tony kept a stool around their floor, just to help his friend to get to higher places he still had insisted on getting to. From his youngest years, Figaro had been taught to use the toilet for his kitty needs, but when the jumping problems started, to save Figaro stress, litter boxes started to appear. Luckily, Figaro knew right away what they were for, and Tony was beaming, once again claiming that his cat was the smartest. Steve wasn't beaming so much, realizing that once again all the dirty work would fall on him. Vet visits, claw trimming, now litter box - it was all on him, while Tony fed Figaro snacks and got all the love.

"But I did that when he was little," Tony whined playfully, reminiscing the first nights Figaro had spent as a kitten on their floor. It didn't take long until Tony taught Figaro how to use the toilet, but he couldn't unseen things from back then.

"Yes, you did," Steve agreed, smiling to the memory. Twelve years had passed quickly. Many things had happened during that time, both sad and happy and it all lead them to this moment. Steve wouldn't change a thing. Feeling content, he kissed the top of his husband's head. "Let's go to sleep."

"Yhm," Tony agreed and took off his glasses, putting them on the night table. "Oh, did you give Figaro his vitamins today?" he asked, hand reaching halfway to the lamp.

Steve huffed out a small laugh. "And did you take your vitamins today?" he asked back.

"I did," Tony answered immediately, sounding offended.

"Oh, you did?"

The question was hanging in the air and Tony narrowed his eyes. "Damn, you are good," he seethed out, his hand reaching into the drawer.

"Only because I love you," Steve hummed, kissing Tony's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony muttered, popping some pills into his mouth and swallowing.

"Wow, swallow it dry, huh?" Steve asked, sounding unimpressed.

Tony grinned. "I am a professional," as soon as he said that he gasped and covered Figaro's ears. "Not in front of my son."

Steve laughed and rolled on his back, spreading on his side of the bed. "Your son is an adult. In human years he is closer to my age than you are."

"Well, it is a nice change to be the youngest."

It was supposed to be a joke. Something in Tony's tone told Steve that it wasn't. He lay on his side and looked at Tony with concern before his face changed into a scolding one. "Babe, don't do it."

"I am not doing anything," Tony said, sounding somehow distant and running fingers through his hair. There were more and more silver streaks appearing among the brown ones, but Tony wasn't bothered that much. At this point, he was grateful his hair wasn't thinning out. He looked at Figaro curled in his lap and stroked the black fur. It felt soft and smooth and full, all thanks to the good food and a lot of care. Nothing could stop time, and some previously black hair turned gray, but they were scarce and barely noticeable among the fluff. Still, in Tony's opinion, it didn't make Figaro any less charming. Steve was wondering when the same kind of philosophy Tony would apply to himself.

"Let's go to sleep, Tony," Steve reminded and turned the lights off. He waited for his husband to lower himself into the covers and gently slid Figaro off of his lap and to the middle of the bed. Steve put his head next to Tony's on the pillow, their legs entwining together. It was all the contact they could get with Figaro in between them, but after all those years, they got used to it. And they knew that there would come a day, they would miss their big cat taking half of the bed.

"Love you, babe," Steve yawned. Proclaiming their love to each other every time before sleep was their small ritual, one they continued to do for as long as they remembered, no matter the distance or time difference. It was comforting for them both.

"Love you back," Tony answered, always meaning it. "Love you, Fig."

"Love you too, Fig," Steve cooed and petted the cat between them, and Figaro didn't say anything, but they could feel the love anyway. It was getting calm and sleepy, until -

"Hey, Steve…" Tony whispered, aware that maybe his husband had already nodded off and he didn't want to disturb him.

"Mhmm?" Steve answered, and something in his voice told Tony that he wasn't that far in dreamland and he could continue. And Tony had some important question to ask.

"You remember that day you found your first gray hair?"

Steve smiled into the pillow. "How could I forget it," he laughed at the memory. It had happened a few years back, and Tony had walked on Steve sobbing on the bathroom floor, which scared the hell out of him. Turned out that the tears were from happiness, as Steve finally had a proof that his body was aging, it was just a slower process for him and he enthusiastically kept showing everyone his first silver hair among the dark blond strands. It was a hilariously, weird day and after the initial shock, Tony had fond memories of it.

"You really scared me back then," Tony reminded with a pout.

"Funny, it was the day I stopped being scared," Steve replied. Outliving his loved ones and being alone was one of his greatest fears and the single silver hair on his head put an end to it. It was such a relief. "Who wants to live forever."

Tony hummed in understanding. "I see your point, but I am kinda disappointed. I was getting used to the thought that my husband will be hot forever- AH!" Tony yelped, suddenly yanked closer, "no - wait! Fig's between us!" he protested, but Figaro already evacuated himself to the calmer part of the bed. He still was quick and had enough of years of experience to know that whenever his blond human friend joined them in bed, some wrestling would happen. That's why he tried to have an earlier moment with his dark-haired human friend. A cat would think that humans were better at controlling themselves, but no. It was mating season all year round.

"Fig's gone!"

"Nooo - Steve, ack! Wahahahit! Need to use the bathroom!"

And the wrestling stopped.

"What, again?"

"Yeah."

"Now?"

"Now!"

"Fiiine," Steve rolled away and tucked hands underneath himself. For now. He watched Tony get up from the bed. "You need to get that prostate exam done," Steve reminded in a harsh tone. Much to his dismay, Tony turned to him with a shining grin he could perfectly see in the darkness.

"I rather have you exam my prostate," Tony purred out, a panicked yelp following when he saw Steve actually lifting himself up. Before Steve could sit, Tony already ran into the bathroom, and Steve sunk back into the covers with a quiet laugh. He stayed in the darkness and felt warm paws walking on him before a solid warm weight settled on his chest and green eyes looked at him. Just then Figaro pressed his head affectionately against Steve's forehead.

"Hey, pal," Steve greeted, scratching Figaro behind the ear. Fig walked a customary circle on Steve's chest, before he curled into a big, fluffy ball, ready to sleep. As the petting continued, Figaro started to purr and it was a soothing sound. Then another sound joined when Tony decided to give an a cappella performance in his warm baritone, singing 'who wants to be hot forever, Steve will be hot forever', his own adaptation of one of the greatest music hits in history. Listening to his cat's purring and his cougar husband's singing, Steve closed eyes to sleep, thinking that having two senior cats in the house, wasn't so bad.

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #figaro #cats are awesome #fanfic #fanfiction #no tickling #or more precisely such short scene that you will blink and miss it #i know that the tenses are probably reallllyyyyy messed up in this fic #sorry!#tried my best

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the-canary · 5 years

Text

A Million Stars - B.B (6/8)

Summary: It’s a whisper in the night, a promise to disappear forever. Don’t trust the Goblin King – it’s just that some princesses never learn. (Labyrinth/Royalty AU!Reader/Bucky Barnes).

Prompt: “The kind of smile that would be cruel not to kiss.”

A/N: This is for @sweetboybucky 1k writing challenge. i hope i can do this scene some justice in my version of it. please enjoy! we are so close to the end too <3 also i couldn’t choose one dress, so make up your own with the refer or think of Sarah’s!

Feedback is always appreciated.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

There is a sword near Sam’s neck. Gold eyes meet brown eyes as Sam isn’t sure how he is supposed to get out of this situation. The large teddy bear looks at him from his noble steed -- a dark, large cat with sharp eyes, though it is a curious little thing to see three mice-like creatures behind it.

“The princess, where is she?” he ask once again, voice darker and more threatening than before. The hunkering green creature wailing at the loss and confusion he is also feeling over the loss of his new and only friend.

“The Goblin King has her in a dream,” Sam states, “He has taken a particular interest in that young lady.”

Sam barely ducks in time to stop his head and stuffing from being sliced off completely.

It takes a while to realize that you aren’t within the labyrinth. You wonder in confusion and a light concussion for what seems like an eternity, as you come to that large, marble floor once again. The piano isn’t playing this time, but rather a classical grouping that you had seen once or twice in important events at castle -- like your father’s wedding. However, this time they were wearing bright and colorful masks, you turned around once, then twice to see a mist of people dancing around you in elegant gowns and suits with masks on. They gave you pointed smiles and nods, but never touched you

It’s then you feel it, the spark once again as it runs down your veins and through your body -- connecting and webbing together to form a a light but tight silver-blue dress around your form. The lighter details of the dress are white, as they seem to form a story of a forest and dark sky that just can’t seem to reach other. A thinner wed is laid over your shoulder and the top of the dress as a sort of a cape you push back. Your hair is looser and fluffier than before, as you feel something heavy upon it -- maybe a crown.

You glance around in confusion, as the rest of the guests murmur in awe.

“A princess, of fae blood,” they whisper as you feel cold at the lie -- you couldn’t have that awful thing running through your veins, but they keep on reminding you, “The god of thunder’s blood.”

You let out a tiny yelp, as you almost feel their hands coming closer, as you turn and take off into the dark parts of the mist, but that energy doesn’t leave you -- doesn’t rub off. In your immediate fear, you don’t notice the figure that appears before you.

“You don’t feel, do you?” the man asks as you see glance to finally see him -- the Goblin King. He’s dressed fancier than before with a long, dark-colored jack who entrails reach behind his knees, white shirt and pants with dark boots that reach his knees. His hair slicked back and his own mask is black with gemstones that only make his blue eyes pop out even more, “That lovely power coursing through you.”

The music plays softer than before, as he puts out his hand for permission to dance. You should deny him, say no and run away, but his declaration (and his eyes) have your complete attention. You place your hand on top of his and he gives you a crooked ring that send a shiver down your spine.

“Tell me what you know,” you pause, as if testing out the waters before adding softly, “Please, James.”

His eyes flash something darker for a moment, as he wraps a the other arm around your waist and begins to sway you back and forth before talking once more: “Curious little thing, they hid so much from you.”

“And you know everything in the world?”

“More than you, princess,” he spat the last word out --your human title-- like it doesn’t mean anything to him, as you grab his hand a bit tighter than before.

“Tell me, your majesty,” you say in a honey sweet tone, though there is pointed edge that makes him smile even more.

“You are part fae,” he twirls you around before pulling you back into his charm and gravity, “You are meant for something else completely, princess.”

“And what would you want from me, oh Great Goblin King?” you answer back annoyed that he is teasing you with all the knowledge he is hiding from you, all the things you don’t know about yourself that he does.

“I could teach you our history,” he states, somewhere between desperation and something else you can’t quite pinpoint, though you feel his own magic --darker and heavier than your own-- as the music seems to stops and the shadows gather around you once more, “Teach how to control your powers and so much more.”

You stay quiet, waiting for hum to state what he wanted in exchange as all men in power did -- you just didn’t expect the lovesick tone over his next words, as he grabs your cheek softly with his gloved hand. Blue eyes looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world.

“Just. Be. My. Queen,” he emphasizes every word, as you just stand there in momentary shock. He gives you a heartbreaking smile, like you’re going to deny him but you can’t find the words too, as your wisps of light reach out to him for a moment.

Would it really be so bad?

You knew what awaited you at home -- a horrible marriage, a father that had sold you and forgotten about you, a stepmother that only really cared about her own child who was still just a baby. Nobody is missing you now, nobody would care if you left -- you would end up a story just like mother. However, this would be under your terms should it happen and maybe James knew that, as he watches you lean a little closer and pull his chin so that your forehead is touching his mask.

“And if I say yes, would you treat me as your equal?” you whisper harshly as he gives you a bright smile, like a child that has found his way home, “I will not have any less from you and in exchange, you would have all of me. Will you give me that?”

“Everything, I’ll give you the world and the stars because you deserve all that and more,” he states with a giddy laugh that you can’t help but return, but before you can say anything else -- the roof shatters into a million pieces of glass and bubbles.

Everything fall into the silence as you lose all closeness and tenderness you had with the Goblin King. You scream his name, but hear nothing back. The piano keeps playing softly in the chaos as you and all the guests, tables, decoration, and flooring keep falling into the endless darkness.

Would you have said yes?

A lonely and haunted voice whispers in your ear as your clothes turn back to normal and the lightning wraps around you in a cocoon.

Yes, I would have.

It takes you a moment to realize that you aren’t where you once were anymore, wherever that was. You get up slowly to see several pairs of eyes overlooking at you in worry as an awful smell is far but still prominent in your nostrils, as you wonder what poor Sam and Hulk went through. You give both of them a smile before turning to look at the bear on the familiar cat like creature that it makes you want to cry.

“Heimdall!” you yell out and grab at the bear, who seems to stiffen at the contact, as Sam frowns, “You found me.”

“Anything for you, princess,” the bear states with complete calmness as Sam rolls his eyes.

“Wait, wait. You know this bear,” Sam questions as Hulk groans in confusion, clearly remembering that it hadn’t been easy getting out of the Land of Eternal Stench due to the constant bickering between the two stuffed bears. The Warriors Three and Sif can’t help but agree silently.

“Heimdall has been with me since I was a baby,” you explain, letting him go and letting the others animals introduce themselves. You smile and welcome them eagerly. Sam tells you what they had been through after you disappeared, though you tell them that you don’t remember where you went.

An aftereffect of the peach, Sam thinks to himself as everyone starts moving forward.

“We should head to the castle and find baby Marcus, princess,” Heimdall declares, as you nod though all the while still feeling about fuzzy about what you couldn’t put together.

“You are right,” you state before starting to get up and walk with Hulk’s help, taking the lead as the row of animals walk behind. There is nothing exchanged between the group, almost as if going over what is going to happen when you reach the Goblin City before having a team talkout. However, thinking about the Goblin City leads to a soft echo in your mind -- like someone is longing for you in a way they never had before.

You freeze in shock for a moment at the reminder, as you turn around and look at the teddy bear that you have had nearly all your life. Gold eyes stare back, as if prepared over what comes out of your mouth next.

“Heimdall,” you state, “Did you know I was connected to the fae? That I have the blood of a god running through all this time and none told me.”

Gold eyes share nothing with you, but there is a subtle change to his demeanor, as you swear you hear a mischievous laugh in your head that you can’t help but smile just a bit at, though completely serious as the bear looks at you.

The clock strikes three hours left, as the tale begins.

Part 7

#sweetboybucky1k #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes royalty au #bucky barnes labyrinth au #series: million stars #fabiola trying to write

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myfandomlife-blog · 5 years

Text

Forever: Part 1

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: An unexpected twist turns your live around... (i wanted to write a Fanfiction about Loki for a long Time, so i hope you guys enjoy it)

Forever is a big word and you had no idea that it’s almost impossible to reach. Everything ends. After the countless years you've lived now, it looked like there was no other way than for everything to stay the same...forever.

When your parents died, your aunt took you in. Your parents were both warriors in the army of Asgard. But that wasn't the reason why your life took a turn that was anything but normal from an early age. For you have had a special gift since birth. Since you can remember, you have been able to control the wind. Everything from a small breeze to a strong wind.

One day when your parents were still alive, Odin himself showed up at your house. He told them that you and his son Thor shared the same birthday and that he had a unique gift too. Your parents agreed that you should be trained together with Thor in the palace. Of course your parents agreed to this offer, because in the palace you would get the best education in Asgard.

That was many years ago and they were right you become a strong and skilled warrior and on top of that you became good friends with Thor and his brother Loki as well. Well at the beginning Loki was not very happy that you were there. But something changed the day that your parents died.

The day your parents were gone to fight on another world, you were in the palace training with Thor again. But this time you spend more time in the ground than anything else. „What’s wrong with you today, it seems you´re not paying attention at all Y/N“ Thor came over to offer you his hand.

„I don’t know it’s like i can’t concentrate.“ you took his hand to get up. „I think it’s just not my day.“ „Or maybe she’s just bored by you brother.“ The two of you look over to Loki who’s sitting on the railing of the balcony.

„And how long have you been peeping on us over there?“ You said annoyed turning away from both to get something to drink from the table across the room.

„Long enough to watch you getting your rear kicked by my brother more than normally.“ he said with a mischievous smile. You take a sip of your water. "Now if you are such a mighty warrior, why don't you show me what you can do? I'd just love to see you kiss the ground."

„This kind of scrimmage is not my territory love“

„I would say the same if I were afraid!“ Just as he was about to respond, a guard entered the room. „Miss Y/L/N the Allfather would like to see you.“ All three of you fell silent. „What why?“ You said sceptical. „It’s something that he needs to tell you personally Miss. Please follow me“ You looked over at Thor who nodded comfortingly. Loki was quite, the smile vanished from his face. You took your bag and followed the guard.

Later that day

As if in trance you stand on the balcony of the Training room, watching the sky.

It will surely rain soon.

You feel like there is a black hole spreading in your chest that swallows everything. They were dead, both your Mother and your Father fell on the battlefield. You lay your hands around the railing and press until your knuckles become white. Trying not to scream because of pain and rage you hear someone enter the room. “Hey Y/N, we just want to see if you need anything? Father said you could sleep in one of the guest rooms here if you like.” Thor said gently. “Thank you but I think I need to go home.” You turn around looking at the ground so you don’t have to look him in the eyes. You take your bag by the door and bevor you go, you say over your shoulder: “Don’t worry about me, I just need some time alone.” And with that you leave the room.

“Do you think we can leave her alone?” Thor looks worried at Loki who hasn’t said a word this whole time. “Yes, I think she will be fine.” But his eyes are still on the door you just disappeared through. He’s sure he saw something in your eyes that made him nervous.

Back at your home it was unbearably quit. You throw your bag in the corner and drop onto the sofa. You bury your face in your hands in despair. Your eyes are burning and hot tears are forming behind your hands. Shortly after you got the news about your parents you knew what you had to do. You were going to find who killed them and got revenge.

Your bag from training was still full of weapons so you just took some provisions and warm clothes because it had started to rain cats and dogs. Suddenly there was a noise in the living room. The knife from your bag still in your hand, you went carefully to the hallway. You hadn't bothered to turn on the lights earlier so that was a disadvantage now. When you reach the living room you feel a hand on your shoulder. Out of reflex you reach for the hand to fend off the attacker. But when you turned around he was gone but you saw who it was for a second. Slowly you lower the arm with the knife. „What do you want Loki?“ You went over to the table to put the knife down. When you turned around he was standing next to the sofa. „I just wanted to see if you are okay and make sure you don’t get any stupid ideas.“ You laugh cynical „What? Do you think i would do something to myself?“

„You know it’s not what i mean.“ His expression was suddenly serious. „I know what you’re up to and I’m here to talk you out of it.“ You look him in the eyes. „Since when do you care about me?“

"Of course I do care what happens to you! Even if I have to admit that I haven't made that very clear in all these years."

"Yes, that's the understatement of the century." You rolled your eyes and went to get your bag.

"You don't have to worry about me, I know what I'm doing." You put your bag on the table to put in the knife and close it afterwards. "And how exactly do you intend to do it all on your own? Do you think you can just walk in there find the murderers of your parents and then come back here as if nothing had happened? You bite your lower lip and look straight into his eyes. "I don't think that..." He looks sad as he realized what you wanted to say.

"You're not planning on coming back, are you?" He guessed exactly what you were thinking. "Why should I? I don't have anyone here anymore. I’m all alone". You notice how your eyes start burning again and you turn to your bag so he doesn't see the hot tears forming in your eyes.

"That's not true and you know that, Thor would be devastated and what about your aunt? And I..." He swallows. "What? What about you?" You don't look up and don't turn around, because the tiny little spark in your chest that appeared at his words, could immediately burn out. "I would have to constantly listen to the whining of my brother and that would be really annoying.“ His words hit you hard.

With that the spark had disappeared and the black hole had taken its place again.

"You'll have to get over it." Your voice was cold.

You take your bag and walk towards the opened patio door without looking at him. He doesn't look at you either. You go to the edge of the terrace and your clothes are immediately soaked by the pouring rain. You Look back one last time but Loki has disappeared which makes your heart even heavier. When you turn your head back you almost cried out when he suddenly appeared in front of you.

He reached for your wrist and looked you in the eye. Your bag falls to the ground. "I won't let you run to your death! You can't bring them back and they certainly wouldn't want you to give up your life for this." Tears and rain ran over your face. You hadn't expected that. Slowly you turn your wrist out of his hand. "Please just let me go" You say sadly your voice breaks while you take another step. Suddenly his hand grabs you again and you are pressed against the wall with your back. His hands are on the wall to the right and left of your shoulders. Your heartbeat gets faster and you're breathing harder. You're both soaked with rain. "Please Y/N.“ You lift your head to look into his eyes. He looks so sad and tired. "Please don't go, we... i wouldn't bear it if anything happened to you. Not only Thor would be devastated. I don't want you to disappear." You just look at him, unable to answer anything because you're not sure if all this is really happening. "I know i wasn't always nice to you and i'm so sorry but the truth is you are one of the most important people in my life!“

Slowly you put one hand on his cheek and pull his forehead against yours. You put your other hand on his chest: "I'm sorry Loki, I won't go. Because you are one of the most important people in my life, too." It took a few seconds for him to process the words but then his body suddenly relaxed. His hands reached behind your back and pulled you closer to him. And despite the rain you could have stood there for hours.

to be continued...

#Loki #Reader #Avangers #Thor #loki x reader #reader input #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki (marvel)#marvel

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delicatelyherdreams · 6 years

Text

Teardrops on Lashes (Part 13)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After the Chitauri invaded New York and nearly ended your life, you moved to Bucharest to get away from the superhero stuff. You simply wanted an uneventful, ordinary life. But when a stranger moves into the apartment next to yours, you begin to question those aspirations and choose to risk it all for love.

Warnings: language; shit goes down pt. 2

Word Count: 5197

Teardrops on Lashes Masterlist

Previous: Part 12

Next: Part 14

You weren’t sure what was going on exactly as you lay there in the tub, curled up in the fetal position with your arms wrapped around your head to do what little you could to protect it.

You could feel your heart hammering against your chest. Over and over again it struck your ribs, enhancing the anxiety you were feeling.

You had heard gunshots. Fucking gunshots, and you couldn’t tell who was firing them or who they were aimed at.

God, you prayed Bucky was okay.

His face as he told you to hide was seared into your mind. He was terrified that Captain America was in his apartment. You hadn’t seen him that scared in months, not since he had made a mess in your kitchen and was afraid that you’d get mad at him for the disaster.

Bucky wasn’t a man who was easily frightened, so the fact that he was actually showing his fear chilled you to the bone.

Your were drawn from your thoughts by the sharp thuds of something hitting the bathroom door. You shrieked with every bang. Whoever had come for Bucky was here for you now.

The door shuddered under the force until finally, it fell from its hinges.

You screamed in terror as men in camouflaged uniforms, all brandishing military grade guns flooded into the tiny bathroom. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for an impact that you didn’t know would come.

One of them shouted something in a language you didn’t understand. You thought it might be German, but you weren’t sure. When you didn’t respond, he repeated his words.

You cautiously opened your eyes to look at them, and it took all of your willpower to not break down into frightened tears.

The soldiers conversed a little bit more in their foreign language before one of them turned to face you. “English?” he asked with a heavy German accent.

You slowly nodded your head.

The soldier, too, nodded in response. He lifted his wrist up to his mouth and spoke into the communication device that was residing there, “Subject is female, appears to be non-hostile and terrified. Assumed victim of Barnes. We’re taking her with.” When he was done, he smiled softly and offered you his hand. “What’s your name, Miss?”

You gingerly reached up and took it, shaking as you stood to climb out of the tub. “(y/n) (l/n),” you answered with a trembling voice.

“Miss (l/n), please come with us. We will take care of you and protect you.”

You didn’t want to go with them. You wanted to go home to your apartment and sleep this whole nightmare away, but you didn’t think they’d let you. You reluctantly nodded your head.

They instantly began to lead you out of the apartment, purposely staying in between you and the main room to block your line of sight. Your stomach dropped. Was there a body? Did they kill him?!

So many scenarios shifted through your mind as they took you out and down the wreaked stairwell.

The one predominant thought, however, was “Bucky, please be safe.”

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

The agents had taken you from the apartment building to a small airport where a medium sized helicopter sat waiting on a platform.

You were being guided by the soldier who had helped you out of the tub earlier, his arm wrapped around your shoulder in a comforting gesture. It was almost as if he could sense the anxiety rolling off your body in waves and felt the need to help you.

As you walked towards the helicopter, you heard a familiar voice shout your name.

“(y/n)!” he called.

You turned to look over your shoulder and you almost sobbed with relief. “Andrei!” You moved out from your soldier’s arm that was wrapped around your shoulders and ran to meet your friend.

He was dressed in all of his tactical gear, but he was still ready to engulf you in a hug. “I heard what happened. James? That’s who they think did it?”

You nodded. “I-I think. But they keep calling him something else. The Winter Soldier? Andrei I’m scared. I don’t know what’s going on. They came after him with guns and I don’t know if he’s hurt or okay or what.”

Andrei’s brows furrowed. “I don’t know what’s going on either, but I promise I’ll find out for you. For now, you need to go with these men, they’ll keep you safe. I’ll find you when I know more.”

You bit your lip and rubbed at your nose. “Okay. Just please, find him for me and tell him I’m okay.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “I will.”

You smiled weakly at him, feeling a small weight being lifted from your chest. “Thank you,” you said.

He clapped a hand on your shoulder. “You’re welcome. I’ll give Nicole a call and tell her that you’re okay, but for now, go on with Heinrich,” he said gesturing towards the soldier who was waiting for you. “He’ll take you to where you need to be.”

“Alright. Take care, Andrei,” you said as you walked back to join Heinrich.”

“You too, (y/n).” He smiled softly and started to walk away.

You took a deep breath and clamored into the helicopter.

As everyone had settled into the aircraft, gotten their headsets on, and put on their seat belts, the helicopter began its ascent.

If you looked out the window, you could see the city below. If you squinted enough, you could make out some of the buildings and pinpoint where exactly in Bucharest you were. Higher and higher the helicopter climbed and slowly but surely the city disappeared from sight and Romania was left behind.

Several hours later, the helicopter began to descend.

Heinrich beside you gently nudged your shoulder. “We are in Berlin,” he said quietly. “Once we land you will be taken to a facility where they will help you decide what to do next.”

You nodded in understanding and waited for the copter to land.

Finally, after ten minutes, it did and you were helped out of the aircraft and led over to a SUV. Instantly you thought you were in the wrong car.

Sitting in the back row was Sam Wilson, the Falcon himself, looking surly and agitated. In the middle row you were starting to get settled in was Steve Rogers whom you had seen only hours ago. In the front row was a man you had only seen on TV, and not even that much, Prince T’Challa of Wakanda.

You looked back at the soldier who was escorting you, your gaze wide with terror. Why the fuck were you being put in this car with two superheroes and a prince?

He ignored you and shut the door behind you.

With no choice but to just sit tight and wait out the ride, you buckled in and settled in for a long and uncomfortable ride.

It was suffocating, being there sitting next to the Steve Rogers, the Captain America who was in your history textbooks back in elementary school and in the same car as another Avenger and a Wakandan royal. The tension in the vehicle was so high it made you squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

The silence was finally broken by the man sitting behind you, Sam Wilson, you thought was his name. You couldn’t really remember but to be fair, you had been avoiding all news concerning the Avengers or anything related to them.

He cleared his throat. “So, you like cats?”

Steve frowned. “Sam,” he scolded.

“What?” Sam asked in a defensive tone. “‘Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don’t want to know more?”

You scrunched your nose up. Dressed like a cat? Just who the hell were these people and what bizarre shit were they into?

Steve sighed but looked at the prince seated in front of you. “Your suit...” he started. “It’s vibranium?”

The prince narrowed his eyes as he glanced sideways. “The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations,” he said stoically. “A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior. And now, because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.”

“...your friend murdered my father.” Surely he couldn’t mean Bucky. Bucky had been with you, there was no way he could’ve snuck out and murdered anyone. He wouldn’t have snuck out and murdered anyone. The Bucky you knew was not a killer.

“So I ask you... as both warrior and king...” He turned his head and looked at Steve. “How long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

Steve didn’t respond, his face growing stone cold as the car went down a ramp into an underground hanger.

As the car slowed to a stop, guards flanked the vehicle from the outside. They opened the door for you and one offered his hand. “Miss (l/n), please come with us,” he requested with a cold tone.

You quietly took his hand and climbed out, falling in line with the small group that was getting ready to follow the men deeper into the facility. The guards led the four of you into a small hanger where a forklift was bringing in a large pod made of glass and metal. You couldn’t see the occupant, but you could only imagine it must be some high risk prisoner with how many guards there.

Steve drew your attention to the front of the group as you came up to a man in a business suit and a woman in sparce tactical gear. He frowned at the two. “What’s gonna happen to him?” he asked tensely.

“Same thing that ought to happen to you,” the man in the suit answered with a matter-of-fact tone. “Psychological evaluation and extradition.”

The woman cleared her throat. “This is Everett Ross,” she introduced. “Deputy Task Force Commander.”

“What about a lawyer?” Steve asked.

The man laughed. “Lawyer. That’s funny.” He shook his head and turned to one of the nearby guards. “See their weapons are placed in lock up.” At Sam’s concerned look, he smiled patronizingly. “Oh, we’ll write you a receipt.”

Sam scoffed. “I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that.”

They group began to walk deeper into the hanger and you began to walk with them. You glanced back towards the large pod that was still being carried in and you swore your heart stopped.

That high risk prisoner you thought was in there wasn’t a high risk person as all; it was Bucky.

You hadn’t seen him since he had told you to hide in his bathroom. You had been so scared that he’d be hurt but he appeared unscathed.

His jacket and hat were long discarded, leaving his hair free to just be. His face held no expression, but in his eyes you could see it all. He was scared, nervous, and just tired. The sight of him locked in the cage, with the metal harness over his shoulders and the cuffs around his hands just looking so defeated made your heart throb with pain.

“Bucky...” you breathed out as you deviated from the group, veering off track with your legs subconsciously steering you towards the only person who was familiar anymore.

He glanced up at the movement, his eyes flashing with recognition and sadness as he saw you. His lips silently formed your name and, even though he was shielded by the layers of shatter and sound proof glass, you could’ve sworn you heard his faint whisper.

You reached out a hand to him, desperate to touch him and reassure him that everything was going to be okay, when a hand on your shoulder stopped you dead in your tracks. You turned to look behind you.

It was the Deputy Task Force Commander, Everett you recalled to be his name, who stopped you. His eyes were cold yet compassionate as he jerked his head towards the waiting group and their escorts. “This way, miss,” he said coolly, but the underlying message was there. Come with us or we will make you.

You took a shaky breath and nodded, following after him silently as you tried so hard to keep your body from trembling.

Everett could tell, however, just how terrified you were though. He knew that this wasn’t your element, that you had never asked for any of this. So how, he wondered, did you get involved with the Winter Soldier?

You squeezed your hands into tight fists as you walked down the hallway, matching his brisk pace. “You think he was the one who did the bombing in Vienna,” you said quietly, your voice shaking with each word.

He nodded. “He was. I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it was him. We have video proof.”

You shook your head. “You’re wrong. It couldn't have been him.”

Everett didn’t respond to you as the group climbed several flights of stairs that deposited them onto a covered skywalk. He straightened up. “You’ll be provided with an office instead of a cell,” he said, directing his words towards the heroes. “Now, do me a favor and stay in it?”

T’Challa snickered. “I don’t intend on going anywhere.”

As you reached the middle of the skywalk, you were joined by a woman with red hair whom you noticed to be Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow from the Avengers. She fell in stride next to Steve and had an agitated air about her. “For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” she snapped.

Steve stared ahead. “He’s alive,” he responded matter-of-factly.

You found little comfort in that remark. Sure he was alive, but he was a prisoner of people who thought he did something that he had no part of.

The group proceeded into a room that looked like central command. It was an office on steroids with dozens of agents sitting at dozens of computers and a whole wall of monitors displaying various security feeds, world times, and live video.

In the midst of the organized chaos, a man sat on his phone. Instantly you recognized him to be the Tony Stark of Stark Industries, also known to the world as Iron Man.

Tony didn’t notice you all yet, instead chattering away on his cell. “No. Romania was not Accords-sanctioned. And, Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup.”

Natasha leaned over to Steve’s ear. “Try not to break anything while we fix this,” she said before walking over to Tony’s side.

Tony stood up as he locked eyes with Steve, and he raised his voice so you all could hear as he said, “Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences. Obviously you can quote me on that 'cause I just said it. Anything else? Thank you, sir.”

As Tony hung up the phone, Steve quirked an eyebrow in response. “’Consequences?’”

“Secretary Ross wants you both prosecuted,” Tony stated simply. “Had to give him something.”

Steve cracked a dry smile. “I’m not getting that shield back, am I?”

Natasha raised her eyebrows as she turned to walk backwards. “Technically, it’s the government’s property. Wings too,” she added.

Sam frowned. “That’s cold.”

“Warmer than jail!” Tony called back over his shoulder as he led Steve into the center office.

As the two of them left, everyone began to disperse, leaving you and Everett alone.

You looked at him with a worried look. “What’s going to happen to him?” you whimpered.

He looked a little surprised at your voice, you had been so quiet previously, he had kind of forgotten you, a civilian, were there. “As I said before, psych evaluation and extradition. He’ll most likely be shipped off to jail for his crime or a mental institute for his insanity.”

You shook your head. “No! He’s not a criminal and he’s perfectly sane! Why won’t you let him go?”

At that, Everett’s face melted into one of sympathy and he looked at you like you were a victim of some horrible scheme. “Miss (l/n), you must really not know who it is we’re dealing with here.”

“Oh I know perfectly well,” you said quickly. “You’re dealing with James Barnes, probably the best, most kindest man I have ever met. And you’re treating him like a criminal.”

“Because he is a criminal,” he responded. He led you over to a series of monitors and quickly typed the words “Winter Soldier” into a generic internet search bar.

Instantly news articles, pictures, and document search results popped up. All of the pictures displayed Bucky and you had to say the images concerned you. You recognized his face, but not the angry, cold, and robotic look in his eyes. In all the pictures he was carrying a weapon of some sort and looking menacing as hell.

“Your boyfriend,” Everett started. “Is James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, a man responsible for countless deaths over the last few decades. He was affiliated with the terrorist group HYDRA up until he disappeared off our radar two years ago. Maybe you remember the incident with the airships in D.C. around that time?”

The event was barely there in your memory, but you vaguely recalled hearing about HYDRA infiltrating SHIELD two years ago. You nodded.

“He was a part of that operation. Barnes is a dangerous man. He’s reckless, erratic, insane, and a weapon of mass destruction. How he found himself in Bucharest and managed to drag you into all of this, I don’t know.”

The man he was describing was not your Bucky, and you refused to believe your ears. “He wasn’t in Vienna. He didn’t do it. And I don't know who you’re talking about, but the Bucky I know would never do something like this.”

Everett gazed at you with his face full of sympathy. “(y/n)... I know this might be hard for you to comprehend, but Barnes is a dangerous man, regardless of what he’s led you on to believe—”

“He hasn’t led me on at all!” you snapped. “Bucky is a good, honest, and sweet man. He didn’t bomb Vienna.”

He laughed weakly. “He did. We have footage of him in Vienna.”

“Well that’s impossible cause he was with me the whole day.”

The look on Everett’s face became patronizing as he nodded along like one would do with a child describing a fantasy tale. “Mhmm. Why don’t you go sit down, Miss. We have some work to do.”“He didn’t do it!” you insisted, raising your voice a little bit. “And I can prove it! He was with me in my apartment the whole day. I have security cameras that caught us on tape at the time of the bombing. He didn’t do it.”The mention of the security cameras caught Everett’s attention, and his head perked up. “You have proof?”You nodded. “Yes. Give me a computer and I can hack into my system and pull up the feed from yesterday. Just please, let him go.”

Everett snapped his fingers and the nearest assistant rushed forward brandishing an advanced and expensive looking laptop. “Show us,” he ordered.

You frowned and looked at the screens showing the live feed from Bucky’s pod. “Let him go,” you ordered back.

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Miss (l/n), but we are not at liberty to do so yet. He is still a criminal and needs to be evaluated. So until we can figure out what sort of mental state he is in, he will be staying in that pod. Now you can either make this easier for us by showing us your evidence, or harder by refusing and delaying the process. Your choice.”

You wanted to give him some snarky, smart-ass comment, but at the moment clearing Bucky’s name was more important than your pride. You sighed and sat down, opening up the laptop and quickly getting to work.

You had never been more grateful for one of Bucky’s paranoid requests. You had griped and complained about the cameras before, saying they weren’t necessary and were a waste of money, but now you were thanking whatever higher power there was that you had allowed Bucky to proceed with his crazy schemes.

As you began to pull up the basic codes and screens to hack into your cameras, the overhead sound system crackled to life.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes,” came a voice from above.

Your head snapped up towards the monitors where you saw a live feed of a man standing next to a desk across from Bucky’s pod. Bucky was still restrained inside. The evaluation was beginning.

“I’ve been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit?” At the silence he took a seat in the chair and spread out his files. “Your first name is James?”

You turned away from the screens as your fingers began to move faster and faster. You had to get this feed up and fast so that they would at least clear his name.

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions,” the evaluator said slowly.

You took a deep breath as you searched for the feed of cameras located in your apartment building, zeroing in on the solitary camera Bucky had installed. You were practically shaking in your seat. You were almost there.

“Do you know where you are, James?” He was met with silence. He sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.”

A new voice crackled to life on the speakers. Weak and defeated, it answered, “My voice is Bucky.”

You faltered in your typing as you felt your heart shatter. You’d never heard him like this, and every instinct in your body was screaming at you to drop everything and run to him, comfort him, bring back that smile you had grown so accustomed to, anything.

With the last bit of resolve you had, you began to scroll through the times your camera had been recording until you finally found what you were looking for. With a few clicks of your mouse, the screen lit up, playing a video.

The video from yesterday, around the time of the attack on Vienna according to the timestamp, appeared on the screen, displaying you and Bucky sprawled out on your couch with amused smiles on your faces. His flesh arm was wrapped around your waist and his head was resting against yours, but he wasn’t watching the TV. Instead, he was gazing down at your face with a gaze full of love and adoration.

Everett pulled his gaze away from the screens showing the live feed and turned to look at the feed. His face slowly melted into one of disbelief as he recognized the two of you. “Son of a bitch...” he mumbled.

You left him to watch the computer as you looked around the room, observing your surroundings. Steve and Sam had been set up in the center office with the blonde woman from before, and it made you feel a little more calm to see theirs somewhat familiar faces. You eventually turned away from them as you looked up at the monitors that were broadcasting Bucky in his pod. Your heart ached as you watched the footage.

“Tell me, Bucky,” the evaluator said.”You've seen a great deal, haven't you?” he asked as he looked down at his sheets.

Bucky turned his head away from the man, his expression pained. “I don't want to talk about it,” he whimpered out.

The man tilted his head. “You fear that… if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.”

The horrors... You stared at Bucky’s face on the screen. What had he seen? What had happened in the past? Who was the Winter Soldier and why did they say Bucky was him? What had been done to him? You couldn’t even imagine.

The man smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said with a twisted grin. “We only have to talk about one.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth the power in the building went out, plunging the room into darkness as the monitors and lights switched off.

Everett tore his gaze from the computer screen that he had been watching religiously. His face immediately hardened, and he went back into business mode. “Great. Come on, guys, get me eyes on Barnes. Go!”

Your breath hitched and without a thought you ran towards the center office that held Steve and Sam.

Both men were looking just as panicked as you felt when you got there and they hardly acknowledged your presence as the woman turned to them and said, “Sub-level five, east wing.”

Sam and Steve turned to bolt only to find you standing in their path.

You stared up at them. “You’re going to get him. Let me come with. He trusts me,” you said hurriedly. If they were going down there to get Bucky, you sure as hell wanted to go with. You needed to see for yourself that he was alright... and you had some questions.

Sam looked ready to protest but Steve cut him off with a curt nod. “Let’s go,” he said as he started running.

You and Sam wasted no time in running after him, and although it destroyed your lungs, you kept pace with the heroes. Down and down you went as you descended the levels towards where Bucky was being kept.

Finally, you reached the sub-level five and the chamber where he was supposed to be.

You slowed to a stop as the scene came into view, and you gasped in shock.

The chamber was illuminated briefly by flashing red emergency lights, casting a faint glow on the bodies of agents slumped on the floor. All of them were out cold and some were bleeding from their noses.

The air was eerily quiet. You felt the need to hold your breath to keep the silence, but it was impossible not to be breathing quickly.

Ahead of you lay Bucky’s pod but no Bucky. The bulletproof glass door had been blown off its hinges, the glass cracked in one spot where it seemed to have been punched over and over again. Had Bucky done that? You didn’t know and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

A small voice in the corner of the chamber drew your attention away from the pod. “Help me...” it whimpered. “Help...”

You turned to look at the voice and gasped in shock. It was the evaluator crumpled in a heap. He looked so weak.

Steve stomped over to him. “Get up,” he ordered roughly as he hoisted him up and shoved him against the wall. “Who are you? What do you want?” he demanded in a threatening voice.

The evaluator’s face shifted with a smirk. “To see an empire fall...” he muttered.

At that moment it seemed all hell broke loose.

As Sam began to walk into one of the chambers, a metal fist slammed into the wall right next to his head. It would’ve taken off his head too if Sam hadn’t ducked at the last second.

You turned around quickly to see Bucky grab Sam by the jaw and throw him against the open pod. You scrambled away from him as Steve lurched towards your boyfriend, landing a punch that hardly seemed to face him.

In return, Bucky began to kick and punch at Steve, driving him backwards and out of the chamber into the hall.

You watched with a mixture of awe and horror as his body moved with such fluidity that spoke of having done something similar multiple times before. He fought with such expertise it could’ve been mesmerizing. It would have been mesmerizing if you weren’t so terrified of him fighting so fiercely.

Bucky spun on his heel and threw another punch at Steve, just barely missing the super soldier’s head but punching a whole through the elevator door behind him. Bucky threw another punch, this one being one that Steve had been able to block. However, the force was enough to send Steve tumbling back and down the empty elevator shaft.

You shrieked in fear as Steve fell back, but you instantly regretted the sound.

Bucky had been uninterested in you for the longest time, but now that you had made your presence known, there was no going back.

He stared at you, his eyes cold and lifeless, unrecognizable as the eyes you had gazed into so many times before. His body was rigid, much more tensed than you had ever seen him before. He looked almost robotic.

You frowned, your breathing becoming shallow. “James...?” you asked in a whisper. You hardly ever used his first name, but right now, you weren’t looking for the Bucky they had told you was the Winter Soldier nor the Bucky that Steve Rogers seemed to know. You were looking for your Bucky, your James.

But he wasn’t there.

Surely, you thought, this must be the Winter Soldier they spoke about.

And the fact that your Bucky had taken on such a demeanor in such little time scared you. What had happened when the power went out?

Bucky began to stalk towards you, not unlike an animal stalking his prey. His eyes were predatory, threatening and dangerous. You couldn’t even recognize him.

With every step forward he took, you matched it as you backpedaled away. “Bucky,” you said again trying hard to keep your voice even and nonthreatening.

He didn’t answer, instead he quickened his pace and widened his stride. Within seconds he was standing right in front of you, towering over your form.

“Buck—”

He stopped your speaking as he shot out his hand, closing his cool metal fingers around your throat.

You cried out in shock as you lifted your hands to try his fingers from your neck, but you only resulted in making him tighten them.

He lifted you a few centimeters off the ground, his face cold and unfeeling.

You gasped for air as his hand gripped your windpipe. “B-Bucky!” you rasped out with the little air you had. “S-Stop! I-I-It’s me, (y/n).” You were starting to feel the pressure on your lungs as they ached to be filled. “Y-Your doll!”

He remained stoic, expressionless, robotic.

Your vision was starting to blur as small little stars danced across your line of sight. You honestly thought that this was how you were going to die: at the hands of the one you loved. And if this was it, you reasoned, so be it. But you weren’t going to leave this world without letting him know how you felt about him, even if he was too far gone to understand.

And so, with all the strength you could muster, you stared into his eyes with your tearful ones. The teardrops were catching on your lashes blurring your vision further and, with the last little breath you had remaining in your lungs, you croaked out, “I-I love you, B-Buck.”

With one final gasp, your vision faded to black, having the last thing you’d seen be the face of James Buchanan Barnes... Bucky... your Bucky...

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oveliagirlhaditright · 5 years

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Summary: Logan convinces Max to get a new catsuit, figuring the Familiars and public know her look too well. What neither of them realized was that this outfit was a trap from the Breeding Cult, meant to get rid of Max's immunity to the comet. And when they storm White's base, this becomes apparent when the suit is triggered and Max nearly dies. But then Logan comes and absorbs the effects.

Author’s Note: This plot is... weird. I'm not even going to deny it. But I had another account where I wrote LoMax fanfiction, but have deleted it. And even though you don't see it on this account, I feel like I exhausted every LoMax idea I could think of on that one. Which means I sort of have to think out of the box now to get inspired for them. And I want to be inspired for them. But despite the weirdness, I hope you'll all find a pretty good tragic piece here.

Speaking of which... I didn't want to kill Logan (and yes, this fic kills Logan. Warning you now), because I love love love him and he and Max are the OTP to rule all OTPs. But this is what the muse hit me with. -shrugs- I blame it on me just watching Wesley's death in Illyria's arms on Angel the Series.

Anyway, happy Dark Angel year! Which was really why I wanted to finally post something for Lomax/the fandom again!

“I don’t wanna hear it, Alec. I don’t wanna hear how it was apparently always wrong for me to love Logan… Because he was just looking out for me again, in trying to find a way for me to stay off the Breeding Cult’s radar—…and for me to stay away from him, if that’s what I really wanted—and he died for it! So save your ‘I told you sos!’”

Max wasn’t sure if she was actually being fair with this. Because maybe in having lost Rachel, Alec would understand what she was going through and know not to go there. When she’d told him about Ben, he’d been silent… Hadn’t he?

Well, even if that was true, Max was too livid to give him the benefit of the doubt right now—or to give him with anything for that matter. She wished they weren’t friends, and that they’d never met. Because maybe if they hadn’t, none of this would have ever happened.

All Max wanted to do was curl up on Logan’s couch and die herself. And she did do the former.

Hours Earlier

“So… Why do you think I need a blue catsuit again?” Max asked, as she slid into said outfit in Logan’s bathroom: somewhat remining her of the night she met Mia. But Max refused to think on that now, since she and Logan had actually been good then—all things considered—and now they weren’t.

Logan sighed—Max could hear this with her cat-like ears—before he rolled closer to the door in his wheelchair, presumably so she could hear him even better.

“Because, Max… The Familiars know too much about you now. And what you look like. The public, too, for that matter. This way, you can hopefully change your look enough that people won’t necessarily notice you on missions. I also bet White and his crew think you’d be too arrogant to alter your suit at all. So they probably won’t even think it’s you in this blue suit for a long time.”

There were a lot of holes in this logic, Max knew. But she wasn’t willing to argue with Logan about it today: not when he was being nice and trying to do something to protect her.

But Max wondered if that was all it was. She got the sense, that—despite everything—he preferred the woman she’d been a year ago. And that by even moreso taking her away from that image, he’d be more okay with their breakup.

And if that was the case, Max wanted to kill him… It wasn’t his fault, of course. He still had no idea that she’d lied about wanting it to be over and being with Alec. But there was a selfish part of Max that had to know how he’d ever believed any of those things from her.

But none of this mattered right now, her inner-soldier chastised her. Breaking into White’s new facility was what was on the agenda… And keeping Logan far, far away from her as she did so.

But still… as Max came out of the bathroom and gave Logan a look, she found she couldn’t help poking fun at him like she’d used to.

“Next you’ll say that you expect me to wear red, white, and blue?”

Past Logan would have responded to that negatively, Max knew, in thinking that she was mocking his patriotism and desire to return America to its former glory… whatever that was. But the Logan who had been more chill this year than he had any right to be, just raised an eyebrow and asked, “What?”

Max laughed… and instantly hated herself for it, as she fell back into the bad routine of sitting on his computer desk while he typed away. “Nothing. You can mostly forget about it, Logan… It’s just that one of the few times I managed to go to school as a kid, we got quizzed about police officers. And one of the questions was if they wore red, white, and blue or not… for some reason. Wearing blue just makes me think of that now. Like, social justice warriors should wear some of our flag or somethin’.”

And while Logan didn’t quite chortle at this himself, he did smile at her as he looked at her the way he had when she’d first told him about OC and Diamond at Crash. “Becoming my field commander more and more, I see.”

Really, Max should have seen Logan bringing back that old joke from a mile away… but she hadn’t. And she was glad that she hadn’t, so she could again feel the kind of warmth she’d been craving ever since she left Hannah’s house.

“…Anyway, Logan… What can you tell me about this place that’s trying to manufacture the comet?” Max asked, once again reminding herself to get back to business. The fates of Logan, OC, Sketchy, Kendra, Herbal, Bling, and even Normal—God help her—depended on it.

And for that reason, Max figured there was a good chance she was going to die on this quest: for all that “a life for a life”, and “the universe needs to stay in balance” mentality. And since those muscle brutes wanted a world to themselves and were willing to die for it. But Max still wanted to be alive and kicking, damn it! There was still so much she wanted to do with her home girl, Joshua, her friends…even Alec, the transgenics, and Logan. Most of all Logan.

Logan’s lips formed into a thin line at her question, and Max could tell he was just as concerned as she was—but she tried not to let it show: deciding to adopt Zack’s sense of phony sentimentality, for just a moment—and it told her that as much as he’d been talking with certainty earlier, about how she would be working for Eyes Only again after this… he wasn’t so sure.

“…What’s there to tell? It’s an abandoned airstrip again. And the articles they’re using to try and manufacture the meteor are nasty. Some of these items were used to try and destroy the world before—via water, of all things—and I really wish you didn’t have to be around them. Bring Alec, if you have to. Joshua too, maybe… and whoever else. You guys should probably enter through a weak spot in the roof, land on the scaffolding and jump down to the operation’s center… There will be a few Familiar guards there I’m sure, but hopefully you can take them. Then destroy everything and get the hell out of there.”

Max didn’t have to be told twice. She nodded once, taking it all in that fast, and walked out on the man she loved once again.

But somehow, Max found herself stopping at the threshold this time and turning around. She didn’t really know why she was saying this now, but she was speaking the words: “Not kissing you the night we took down Manticore was the biggest mistake of my life.”

And then she was riding away from Fogle Towers on her Ninja: Logan’s gasp of breath at her news still greatly on her mind, as she headed the way of his savior. The way of Joshua.

…

Everything went to Hell in record time once the transgenics got to their enemies’ lair: Max, Alec, and Joshua had barely made it down from the ceiling before the water of the device had somehow sprung free and been drawn to Max. And at once, it had her seizing in a way she never had before and made her completely useless.

She tried to fight on—and to ignore the pain and the fear—in focusing on the sort of grim determination Jondy had had during their live ordinance drills from back in the day, but it was mostly to no avail. Joshua and Alec ended up kicking a lot of ass for Max… but all the ass kicking was on normal guards, not Snake Cult. Which told Max that this was a setup from the get-go, but then them outing their location so easily couldn’t have been anything else.

Ames White—the only bastard they were looking for who actually was here—just laughed and scurried away, before any of the three of them could catch him. No doubt he thought she was dead and that they’d won: since no one had extracted her blood yet, and nothing could pass on that cure for the real meteor now.

And wasn’t it her end? Even though Max wanted to punch the sky and say “no”, she was starting to doubt that it wasn’t…

And that was why Alec—via Joshua’s command—called Logan over, so he could come say goodbye to her… Her brothers told Max that they were too afraid to try and move her, in case they made her suffer anymore or so that didn’t kill her if leaving her untouched for a moment meant she would have been fine.

When Logan got there, that was when the strangest and worst thing of all happened.

If Max had thought anything would kill Logan, that was from some sort of allergic reaction… it would have been through the Virus. Of course…

Not through his sucking out whatever was in her new outfit into himself.

If Max wouldn’t have been dyingherselfthis instance—while holding Logan in her arms, and not even caring about the damned Virus because now this illness had somehow been passed to him and he needed to know she loved him—she might have ribbed him, for the fact that it had been hisidea for her to get these clothes…

But Max wouldn’t blame Logan for his own death—she never would—and this ensemble would have possibly helped her in two ways, if things had been different, but that didn’t matter now.

Right now? The catsuit she was wearing was disappearing from Max more and more, and leaving her in some sort of red outfit as what was rest of the blue (that was becoming less and less) seemed to rest against Logan in Max’s eyes

One of the Familiars had gotten the idiotic notion, that if they couldn’t beat her then to join her, Max was realizing now: which was how they’d made this… hoping Max would buy the new uniform—and rather foolishly, she had—and that when she’d put it on, it would render her no longer immune to the comet and cripple her? Surely in looking at her genetic code, and the remains of the last time this harbinger had been on the Earth, they had finally figured out what made her immune to it… and how to change that. They’d just needed one chance to infect her, and they’d found it.

…But they hadn’t been counting on the fact that someone who couldn’tbe healed by her immunity would be right by her side, and touch her, and negate it: since the immunity negater thought that if this person couldn’t be saved—and they couldn’t be—it had already done its job.

The furious part of Max—who hated that the love of her life was dying—wanted to despise him for this: that even in his last moments, Logan was still somehow being too big a person and leaving her behind… almost choosing the world over her. Again. But she knew that was ridiculous and shoved the idea down.

Logan hadn’t consciously decided this, after all, and in his last moments he didn’t need to hear these kinds of thoughts.

No.

Max just focused her attention on kissing every available piece of skin on him that she could find—something that she should have done a long time ago—as she held Logan’s hand.

And she would have even been content to die with him—and maybe she still would—if she didn’t already hear Alec begging her to leave since the police were here, and the anti-transgenic cry was already loud enough… And if she knew Logan wouldn’t come back and haunt her, if she didn’t get away now so she could save everyone.

“Logan… I love you,” Max said, with a tingle tear that landed on his cheek: It reminded her of the one she’d cried at Bennett and Marianne’s wedding, that Logan had seen… how she should have married him even back then! And Max chose to believe that his red face right now wasn’t from the sickness, but in blushing in thinking the exact same thing.

“Don’t ever doubt that for a minute… wherever you go, though I’m sure it’s Heaven. I- God, I never thought I’d say these words. It’s so embarrassing and cliché, but… I love you more than I thought it possible to love anything. And you’re the one who showed me how to love… I only pushed you away this last year because I was afraid of losing you. And I can’t believe it’s happening now!”

Logan squeezed Max’s hand here with a surprising strength. And even that took her aback, since she knew he didn’t have much of it left… as he was now turning purple. If only she knew what was even happening to him!

“I love you, too, Max,” Logan whispered, as tears streamed down his own face… that broke Max’s heart into a million pieces to see.

But at the same time… at least it meant he was taking this seriously. And he wouldn’t get to the Pearly Gates, knocking on God’s door, and only then stop to realize all he’d selflessly given up.

“I always have. Always will. And I’m sorry—But I’ll wait for you.”

And it was at this point that Max began openly sobbing like she had with Ben (because hadn’t the “I’m sorry” part been the exact words she’d said to Logan as she died? But unlike what had happened with her, she knew he wouldn’t come back). Logan reached out a hand to put on her face, but didn’t quite make it as he winced in pain.

“Little Fella, we need to go now!” Even Joshua was urging Max at this point, as he tried to pull her along—was Alec doing so too?—even as he stopped for a moment, stammered a few words, and let out a sad and lonely howl.

“…Max, I’m sorry. I really am. I liked the guy too, but I see White coming back now with a red version of his water thing. And if that’s the real comet they’ve manufactured, we’ve got to get plans to share your blood STAT, and-“

But Max paid the two of them no mind—fighting them both and breaking away just once, like she needed to.

“…Logan, if you—the great and powerful Eyes Only—are going to Heaven, then I don’t know how it will ever take me… But if I’ve ever believed in anything, it’s you. So I’ll have faith in you and wait for the moment we can be together again.”

And like she’d been wanting to do for solong—she leaned down and kissed his lips—enjoying it much more than she should have, since they’d been denied it for so long.

But the moment they’d come alive in this way, for the first time in a long time—perhaps even moreso than they ever had been before. And why did Max have visions of dancing behind her eyelids?—was exactly when life left Logan’s body.

And then all Max was aware of, was numbness.

…

The next thing Max knew after she slept—had she slept? When was the last time she’d ever done that?—was her laying around in Logan’s apartment like she owned the place, and really… she should have. God, why hadn’t she married him again?!—and Alec trying to reason with her… about something. But the subconscious part of her mind had blocked it from there, that was for sure.

That was when the conscious part of her mind snapped at Alec, and Max found herself heading back to Logan’s couch: the only place where comfortableness and truths lied.

And then Alec’s words in her ears from far away: “…I wouldn’t have said any of those things, Max.”

Then after Alec went away, Max heard the closing of the door to an Aztec and she cried.

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tearsofwinter · 6 years

Text

A Beauty’s Love Spell

Summary: Fenris wants to buy a present for Anders to court him, but something goes wrong and now it’s up to Anders to break Fenris free from his curse.

This is based off a conversation I had with @damnedapostate. I thought it was so funny, I had to write it. There is a second version of this story that I had with @mago-emplumado but it’s a bit more complicated, so I’ll save that one for later.

For now, this is part 1 of 2. The second part, hopefully will be done before Halloween is over!

CH 1

The Emporium made Fenris' skin crawl. He was never able to stand the place, and didn't understand why Hawke insisted on coming here of all places in search of a gift. Hightown with its' multitude of merchants, the Dalish with their elven woodcrafts- Merrill would've been happy with whatever Hawke chose. There was an added bonus that the gift wouldn't be cursed either. Couldn't Hawke feel the dark, unholy magic that lingered here? The air was thick with forbidden witchcraft, clawing, scraping at his skin. It left Fenris on edge. He felt unclean and defiled as if he was back in Tevinter, surrounded by magisters freely flaunting their blood magic.

What he wouldn't give to leave, tail between his legs if he had to. Bad experiences and even worse memories taught him to flee such dark magic, but he wasn't that much of a coward to leave Hawke behind. Without supervision, who knew what type of trouble the Champion would get himself into.

The elf spoke too soon. The second- and only a second- Fenris took his eyes off Hawke, the fool sauntered up to the Antiquarian's podium. "Xenon, my decrypted buddy, how long have we known each other?"

Fenris sighed, knowing he wasn't getting paid enough for this jaunt.

"Two months," the Xenon trilled. His disembodied voice rumbled through the caverns of the room.

Hawke waved the not so small detail aside. "I'm your best customer and you know it. C'mon, give me a discount. You can't seriously think this," the mage pointed to an elven carved ring "is worth 30 sovereigns."

"If you can't pay, then leave. Return when you can purchase it."

"Aw, don't say that! How about we work something out?" Hawke pleaded. "Anyone you want gutted or maimed, because I can do that easily. Favor for a favor."

It took a great deal of effort to not roll his eyes, but with patience and willpower he didn't know he had, Fenris' face remained neutral. Barely. For Hawke's sake, the elf contained his snort of bemusement against his friend's horrendous haggling skills. He turned, leaving Hawke to his negotiations, and began wandering around the circular room. He stayed within sight, always close at hand should things turn unpleasant, but he avoided those baby blue eyes begging him for help.

As much of a fool Fenris thought Hawke was, he wasn't the only idiot courting a mage. Fenris too, was looking for the elusive perfect gift; else, he would've never agreed to come to the Emporium, Hawke or no Hawke.

As his thoughts turned to Anders, a fond smile found its way to Fenris' lips. Despite his best attempt to squash the fluttering feeling in his chest, the stoic elf let out a chuckle. He rubbed a hand over his jaw as if he could still feel the phantom ache, and smiled. For a supposedly weakling mage, Anders had a mean right hook.

It was hard to recall their banter from so long ago, but whatever it was he said, it apparently pushed Anders past his boiling point. The mage threw down his precious staff, rolled up his sleeves, and punched him square in the jaw. No magic, no spells. Just fists.

So Fenris followed, unwilling to use his powers against Anders if Anders wasn't using his. Somehow, there was an unspoken agreement between them. Neither of them tapped into their abilities to gain an unfair advantage. They fought each other on even ground, trading punch for punch, fist to fist until the last of their strength drained away, leaving them sprawled on the ground exhausted.

Hours later, Fenris and Anders were still taking half-hearted pot shots at one another when Hawke called out to them, asking if they were finally done beating each other to a pulp. Fenris took one look at Anders and Anders took one look at him... and they both burst out laughing. With disheveled clothes and mussed hair, Fenris finally saw Anders for who he was, and not what. In the unflattering light of reality, Fenris saw a fragile human that had the galls to go hand-to-hand with a warrior, a being with neuroses and psychoses, with greasy hair and clothes that smelled of sewer, who acted rashly and contradicted himself and fumbled his way forward in an unfair world.

Suddenly, in Fenris' eyes, Anders became beautiful.

Just like that, the strained air that always divided them left. Vanished as if their rivalry never existed. Perhaps Isabela was right as she tended to be. The hostility between them could only be resolved by fighting or fucking each other. Because not soon after their fight, the tension they felt toward one another changed from enmity to sexual.

Annoying and frustrating as Anders was, Fenris wanted him. The attraction was a gradual thing, almost like a sickness. It was poison blazing through him, thinking about the mage all the time, watching him, touching him, wanting and wanting and wanting until his mind went blank. If Anders' magic wasn't pure and soothing as spirit healers should be, Fenris would've accused the blond of putting him under a thrall. But it was no blood magic for the desire that flowed between them. It was biology, pure and simple.

For years they've danced around each other, but Fenris was tired of the same old steps. The soft smiles, the longing gazes, he needed the answers behind them. What do they mean, and how did Anders feel about him? The wretched feeling of not knowing, of the possibility of more, it kept Fenris awake at night.

Fenris gazed at the trinkets and baubles that lined the walls and tables of the Emporium. He wanted his intentions known. Enough of this two steps forward and one step back. Enough with the flirting and loaded words. Did Anders desire him, yes or no? One way or another, Fenris was going to find out. If he followed Hawke's advice and bought Anders a gift... then perhaps they'll finally break free from this limbo they were in.

His resolve renewed, Fenris' eyes roamed over the merchandises again with purpose. Finding nothing he thought was good enough for Anders, he clicked his tongue in disgust. He began to turn, disappointed the outing turned out to be such a waste of time, when a glint of gold, the color of Anders' hair, caught his eye. He turned back to the pile of knickknacks he dismissed earlier, and buried beneath a mountain of ordinary shells, was a golden conch.

The color itself reminded him of Anders, but that wasn't the reason why Fenris picked up the conch and held it in his hand. Every inch of the shell was covered in animal carvings: a wolf, a tiger, a lion- the more Fenris looked, the more animals he found hidden on the conch. He smiled as his thumb traced over a cat languidly stretching across a sleeping bear. He thought of Anders and his reaction; the face he'd make when he gave him the shell, the look in his eyes when he found the cat, what he'd say when he told him why he got him a present.

This was it. The conch was the perfect gift for Anders. But before he could turn to Xenon and ask how much for the shell, agonizing pain flared through Fenris' body. Liquid fire filled his veins. It was as if he was back in Tevinter, strapped to the table as Danarius etched raw lyrium into his skin. Fenris fell to the floor and screamed.

"FERIS!" He heard Hawke yell his name, but soon Fenris heard and saw nothing at all. His five senses dwindled into pure agony. His vision tunneled, growing smaller and smaller until he saw only pitched blackness. His lasts thoughts as he slipped into unconscious was his regret at never telling Anders how he felt...

CH2

"ANDERS!" The doors to the clinic slammed open with a reverberating bang.

Cracks of blue appeared on Anders' skin as he turned, battle ready against the templars, but it wasn't the Chantry dogs that stormed the clinic. It was Hawke, out of breath with panic in his eyes.

"Anders! Healing. Hurry, w-we need to go!" Hawke grabbed his wrist and began pulling.

The Fade lines disappeared from Anders' body, anger and injustice replaced by a healer's concern. "What happened? Who's hurt?" he asked, hastily grabbing his bag of healing potions and hurrying after his friend.

The champion dragged him through the secret tunnel that connected Darktown to the Amell estate. As they raced through the passageway, Hawke grimly shook his head. "It's...it's Fenris." Not expecting to hear the the elf's name, Anders' barely caught himself when he stumbled.

"Fenris?" A knot formed in his throat, making it hard to breath. No. No, no, no. Nothing could happen to Fenris. He was hard as rock and tough to kill! He had to be okay! Fighting down the rising panic, Anders pushed forward, doing his best to act as a healer, and not a concerned lover. He had no right to call himself Fenris' lover... They haven't even kissed yet. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. Really bad. You...you have to see for yourself." They burst through the cellar and Hawke led Anders to the stairs. "I didn't want to carry him to his mansion, not when he was unconscious. He shouldn't be left alone in case...In case something happened."

Anders swallowed, eyes batting away unshed tears. Maker was Fenris..?

Hawke held his hand in his and gave him a pitying look. "I know you've two have gotten closer over these last few years... Just prepare yourself, Anders. The accident... It was bad. It took most of his body. I'm not sure if..." Hawke's voice broke and he ducked his head to avoid Anders' eyes. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have taken him with me. I can't do anything to help him now, but please. Do whatever you have to, to help him, Anders. You're his only hope now."

Anders nodded his head, afraid he'd shatter to pieces if he used words.

"He's upstairs in the room at the end of the hallway," Hawke said. "Go see him before it's too late."

Anders headed upstairs, each step taking decades off his already shortened life. A numbness overtook him, painted by fear and dread. The long year in solitary, Anders lost all hope that the Maker ever heard his prayers, but he found himself praying again. He prayed with every string of heart beat that Fenris was alright, to please hold on. If there was still breath left in him, no matter how faint, Anders would muster all his strength he had to save him, even if it meant gambling away his own life.

He should've told Fenris his feelings. Why did he hold back? He was so afraid of dragging Fenris into a war not of his making, of falling in love and then losing him, that now he may never get the chance. Please. To whatever deity that was listening, be it the Maker or Mythal, let Fenris live. He'll do anything if it meant Fenris was alive. He couldn't bear to lose him.

As if in answer to his prayer, there was a loud crash coming from Fenris' room. It sounded like a mirror being hurled against the wall. Anders turned to look down at the stairs at Hawke, but the man was already gone.

Rather than ask any more needless question, Anders hurried to the elf's room.

"Fenris?" He knocked. "Was that you? I'm coming in."

"Go away!" Anders felt a rush of relief at hearing Fenris' voice, strong and loud, sounding not at all like he was at his deathbed. Heedless of the other's warning, Anders cracked open the door. After the scare Hawke put him through, he wanted to see with his own eyes that Fenris was alright. But the elf was nowhere in sight.

"Fenris?" Anders stepped into the room, wondering where the elf could've gone. Pieces of glass and wood crunched beneath his feet as he searched. "Love," he said, the endearment for the elf somehow coming naturally to him now, "where are you? Come out and let me look at you. Hawke said you were hurt."

"Hawke said I was hurt?!" Fenris' voice came from above him. "I'm more than hurt. I've been cursed!"

Anders' head snapped up, but when he looked, he didn't see Fenris. All he saw was a web of squirming tentacles looming over him. One by the one, the legs detached itself from the ceiling, the sound of writhing filling Anders' ears. It dropped down, and Anders eyes widened as he saw Fenris.

"Look at me!" The elf screamed, pointing down to the bottom half of him. Gone where his legs. Waist down, he resembled the tentacle beast of legend. Purple, slimy limbs spread out like a skirt beneath him. One of them wrapped around Anders' ankle, and the mage felt the suckers latch onto his skin.

Anders decided he must be dreaming. The long hours at the clinic must've caught up to him. And if he was dreaming, he might as well do it while lying down.

He fainted.

TBC in part 2

A/n: So yeah, fair warning. Next part involves tentacle sex. If it’s not clear, waist up, Fenris is still the same. Only waist down does he resemble an octopus. 2 guesses on how you break this curse lol...

#fenders #myfic

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alicemoonwonderland · 7 years

Text

A Family Of Three

A kind of follow-up of either Let’s Put A Ring On It or Wind Against His Shield. Can be read separate from either pieces, but it will give some nice backstory.

Summary: Gladio and Aranea get news that Noctis has been released from the Crystal, and take their little Alexius with them for him to meet his Uncle Noctis. Aranea recounting the time she found out she was pregnant.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Pairing: Gladiolus Amicitia / Aranea Highwind

Rating: SFW

Words: 2333

Tags: Established relationship, unplanned pregnancy, alternative universe - everyone lives/nobody dies, mentioning of sexual relationship, parenthood, confessions, worries, return of the sun, some fluff, tiny bit of angst.

Tagging: @thefriendlytonberry @hypaalicious @angelic-guardienne@stunninglyignis @cupnoodle-queen @chocobruh-art @insomniacapples @insomniasix @fieryfantasy@ladye11e @mp938368 @theprinceofchocobos @theyearofdiamonddogs @sonsoflucis @mywritingbox @indigochocobo @ffxvhoe @tales-of-a-fallen-star @atlerion

Aranea laughed softly as Alexius bounced on her lap, playing with her silver hair. This little scrap of innocent humanity. She helped creating him, it took her by surprise still almost every day. Her boy stared at her with big amber eyes, a wide grin. He was a bit pale, his tan having a bit of a greyish-undertone, but that was to be expected seeing no one had seen the sun for ten years now. It squeezed her heart to know that her son had never had the chance of experiencing something as important as the sun. And maybe never would.

The ringing of a phone made the two look up, watching Gladio pulling the device from his pocket as he had been standing by the window - leaning against the wall and watching them with a serene smile on his face. His eyebrow arched when he saw the caller ID, and picked it up immediately.

"Yeah, what's up Iggy?" He rumbled curiously, shooting Alexius a smile and waved at the little boy. Alexius giggled in delight and hid his face against his mama's chest. Aranea smiled amused as her fingers played with his silver wavy hair. Her adorable precious boy.

Gladio became as quiet and still as a statue, his focus fully on whatever Ignis Scientia told his friend. Aranea narrowed her eyes with concern as she watched him. Weird tingles spreading through her torso.

"Yeah, I'm on my way right now." He hung up and became like a human tornado through the small apartment they rented in Lestallum, a feverish light in his eyes.

"Gladio, what's going on?" she asked as she put Alexius on her hip and stood up, following him into the bedroom as the little boy chomped down on one of her ponytails. Watching his dad as curiously as his mother did. Gladio threw clothes into a duffle bag, before turning around and cupping her cheek softly.

"Noctis is back."

The words were like a punch to her gut. Her widening startled as she looked up in the eyes her son had. Gladio's eyes. Her hands tightened as she for a moment didn't know what to feel, or think. Let alone say. Then she snapped into action, nodding firmly.

"I'll pack Alex's things," she told Gladio calmly and moved away. But his hand on her arm stopped her. She arched her eyebrow at Gladio. The smile on her lips almost mocking with an edge of danger. "Don't you dare tell me we are staying behind, Gladiolus Amicitia. Don't even dare."

"Aranea....." he sighed, shaking his head with a laugh as he seemed to relaxed when she glared at him, not going to waver from her spot. Alexius mewled confused but beamed when Gladio picked the little boy up so his mum could pack their things. The large man knowing better than to argue with his small but lethal wife.

Araena's heart beat rapidly, her hands becoming a bit clammy as she packed a duffle bag rapidly. Getting ready as fast as possible as they had no time to waste.

The King had returned.

// Hammerhead //

Noctis stared at the little boy who looked shyly at him from Aranea's neck. Trying to wrap his head around the fact that Gladio and Aranea were parents. Gladio with Aranea. He had thought maybe she would get together with Ignis. Or that Prompto would finally win over Cindy and have a little one with her. But no, it was Gladio with one of the toughest and scariest women he had even met.

"How?" he managed to get out, Gladio laughing as he swung his arm around his friend's shoulders. Aranea smiling amused as well. “You…a father? With Aranea Highwind?”

"That's a story for when we have tucked the little one in....but I'll gladly tell you, my friend. By the way, it is Aranea Amicitia." The choking sound Noctis made caused them all to laugh hearty.

// Years Before //

She looked back at the last few months, wondering how things could have gotten where they were right now. It was almost beyond belief. After their first time together, they started to hang our regularly. Quickies behind buildings in outposts. Snog parties in one of their cars. Just...moments together. Mostly just sexual, physical, not much emotions involved. Scratching each other's itches. Then...she slowly started to learn his body language.

How he liked her nails on his back. Or when she collared his throat. When he had to wrestle with her to get her under him. How he liked meat the most with his noodles. Or the little furrow he got between his brows when he was particularly invested in a story he read.

He seemed to pick up on her tell-tale signs as well. When she was tired and would get a bit of a vacant look in her eyes. The way she would come undone if he did that thing with his fingers and tongue. The way her eyes lit up when she saw star fruit or a kitten.

As time progressed, she started to find his clothes in her drawer. Or a few of his books on her shelf. A growing stock of Cup Noodles. Or a new little clay ornament added to her silly collection. Just small apparently insignificant things.

Then he was just there. Every day. Falling asleep next to her, with his arms always finding a way to get around her and hold her close. Just there.

They never talked about it. Never said it out loud. But she wasn't stupid. He had moved in with her and done so in a hella sneaky way. Little bit at the time so she wouldn't feel pressured or cornered. It felt natural and right. Her...their apartment started to become the meeting point for his friends as well. Ignis and Prompto dropping by from time to time. And it all went smoothly. Too smoothly.

And today the other shoe had dropped. Happiness and joy were never permanent fixtures in her life. She knew something would go wrong. Something would happen that would shatter the little good she has created in her life. And her relationship with Gladio was good. A precious flower that they had nurtured. But so damn delicate. She kept expecting for him to walk out. Find himself a little sweet housewife instead of a dangerous hunter. That he didn't have to worry about if she was coming home after a hunt - and oh boy have they had some fights about that....and incredibly hot angry and make-up sex.

The pregnancy test glared at her. Mocked her. Laughed at her. The little plus telling her that she wasn't alone anymore. Literally. Something even more delicate than her relationship growing inside of her. And it terrified her. She was a hard woman. A warrior. Never had she imagined herself to be a mother. But she would become one now.

What worried her most would be Gladio's reaction to the news. He was an Amicitia, practically blue blood right there. Surely he would want to continue his bloodline, but not with some mercenary-gone-hunter woman who knew nothing of her lineage. Dumped on the steps of an orphanage hours after she has been born.

"Babe?" The knock on the bathroom door startled her. Blinking rapidly and washing her face clean as she tried to get her emotions in order. "Babe, you okay?"

No. She wasn't okay. Cursing herself for her oversight. Knowing precisely the time she must have gotten pregnant. A few weeks back, she had gotten the stomach flu and spend a lot of her time hunched over the porcelain throne. Gladio had been so sweet though. Holding her hair back, rubbing her back. Gone out to the market for fresh ingredients for soup. Just been this sweet teddy bear rarely anyone saw. Her pill must have weakened then. She should have told him to use a condom. It was too late now.

"One sec," she called out to him, feeling his presence radiating through the door. Pocketing the test and drying her face, she took a deep breath. You could do this, Aranea. Opening the door, she looked up in the worried face of her...boyfriend...no that sounded too juvenile. Her partner. Yes. That was what he was. But for how long?

He cupped her face carefully in his hands, the rough callouses almost soothingly against her softer skin. His amber eyes moving over her face as if he tried to figure out what bothered her. "Stomach flu coming for a round two?" He rumbled, and she couldn't help but smile at him. He always tried to make her smile. With him, she was always softer. Less prickly.

"Gladio...I..." she exhaled as she looked away, trying to figure out how to tell him. He didn't push or prod, just giving her the time to figure out what she wanted to tell him. One of the many things she loved about him. Loved. Her heart squeezed with that word. She had tried to lie to herself for so long, but she couldn't any longer. Somehow, she had fallen for this big scarred teddy bear.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. His heat seeping into her cooler body. She loved to just curl up on top of him like a cat on a heated pillow. His fingers combed through her silly silver hair, a soothing rumble coming from his chest. "Whatever is bothering you, Aranea, we will get through it."

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out. Just like that. Blunt as always. She sucked in a breathe when he felt him freeze. Not looking at him when he pulled back, his stare so intense as anxiety - something she didn't feel often - coursed through her.

He stood there for what felt like hours. Not saying anything. Her eyes starting to burn a bit. Then he sunk down on his knees, and she could see the absolutely delighted look on his face. His hands moving to touch her still flat belly, and he stared at it as if it was the answer to all his prayers. "You sure?"

"Without a doubt." The tests were 99.9% accurate. And she had been experiencing other symptoms: odd cravings, emotional outbursts, and stronger sense of smell.

He looked up at her before pressing his lips against her stomach so gently. All the anxiety started to leech out of her as she moved her hands into that thick dark hair of his. Holding him close to her as she could breathe again. He wasn't mad or against the baby. He wanted just as much as she did. Even though it was far from planned. Far from expected.

"I love you, Aranea." Well that wasn't expected either. She started laughing as he smiled back up at her, his hands resting possessively on her behind, squeezing softly.

"I love you too, you big brute."

/// Hammerhead ///

Aranea watched Alexius babble softly to his aunt Iris, the young woman chuckling amused and ruffling her nephew's hair. The poor lass had rushed as fast as she could back to Hammerhead when she got the news Noctis was back. But she had missed him by half an hour, he and his retinue having set out for Insomnia already. Aranea had hugged her as Iris whispered how she wanted them to all come back alive. And she hoped too. So much.

But seeing what Noctis had told them all. That he had to die for the Starscourge to go away. For Ardyn to be finally defeated. The chances seemed to be small. Small...but not impossible.

She smiled to herself at the stunned look Gladio had when she had handed him the Mega Phoenix Down she had saved all those years for a true emergency. Handing him a Mega Elixir as well.

"Bahamut said he had to die so the Scourge can be destroyed."

"But Bahamut said nothing against bringing him back alive."

He had laughed surprised at that, kissed her deeply before thanking her. Finding loopholes was always one of her strongest suits.

"Mama? When will Papa be back?" Alexius crawled onto her lap as they sat on the roof of the restaurant. Staring in to the direction of the ruins of Insomnia. Iris leaned against her, and she wrapped her arms around them both. Protective and refusing to give into her worries and fears.

"Soon little one. Papa will be whining for noodles when he's back," she joked, trying to keep their spirits up. Time had started to become so slow. Hours. A day. It felt like eternity as they waited for any news. Any sign that they were alright. Alive.

She had wanted to come with them, but she knew she couldn't. She had Alexius to worry about, and she wasn't part of the retinue. This was their battle. And all she could do was wait for them.

"I want noodles too." She and Iris chuckled at Alexius' deadpan comment. Aranea pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. Then, something caught their eyes. Something...at the horizon. Colours changing. A hint of purple...flowing into red...orange...and then almost a yellow white.

"The sun," Iris’ voice sounded fragile as she held onto Aranea's hand so tightly. Knowing what that meant. Noctis had fulfilled his destiny. But was he alive? Were they all alive? Alexius babbled excitedly as he for the first time saw the sun, Aranea putting sunglasses on his face to protect him from the sharp light. Even she and Iris but them on as their eyes weren't used to the sun anymore after ten years of darkness.

Her heart jumped when her phone finally buzzed, unlocking the screen quickly to see who texted her. Hoping it so much to be Gladio. Of course others would text her to celebrate the return of the sun. But there was only one person she truly wanted to hear from.

Teddy Bear: It worked, he is alive...see you soon, my heart

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #ffxv fanfiction #gladiolus amicitia #gladiolus amicitia x aranea highwind #highshield #gladnea #aranea highwind #gladio x aranea #fluff #written by alicemoonwonderland

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lazymilkshakecolor · 7 years

Text

A very annoying women.

Summary: Sakura was always annoying, not Naruto annoying, she’s her own kind of annoying, but after sasuke comes back from his travels he finds that sakura became very annoying. ( this also feautures their first date, I justs dind’t know how to fit it into the summary)

He knocked twice on door, but nobody answered, so he opened it a little and peered in.

Sasuke just came back from his journey, he knew he should go to the hokage's first to report his presence in the village, but he spent three years resisting coming to see Sakura, and he really was looking forward to seeing her.

He expected to find an empty office, but instead, he found Sakura asleep on her desk under a pile of paperwork, she was barely visible if not for her pink hair.

He smirked at the scene in front of him.

She was always a workaholic, he thought, remembering the time she fell asleep against the wall just after the war, he carried her an laid her down on his bed and she slept for three more hours without noticing that something changed.

He decided not to wake her up and wait a while for her to rest, but the piles of paperwork over her head seemed to make it hard for her to breath, so he moved and stood in front of her desk to remove them.

She seemed exhausted, judging by her unresponsiveness to the movement around her.

But as he was removing the last paper off her head, her eyes tore open and she looked at him for half a second before aiming a punch to his gut.

He really couldn't blame her, she woke up to find a man's hand right above her head, she probably didn't even look at his face.

''What the hell you think you’re doing you perv—Sasuke!''

It was almost comical how Sakura's expression turned from one of anger to surprise to guilt.

''Oh my god I'm so sorry.'' She said as she ran towards the hole his body made in the wall.

Sasuke didn't know if should be proud of how strong her punch was or feel annoyed cause she knocked him into the wall, but happiness at finally hearing her voice mixed with his annoyance.

She helped him stand on his feet and regain his footing and she checked him for any injuries as he tried to regain his breath, after that she clasped her hands together and apologized.

''Annoying women.'' He said as he looked up from the hands she was clasping to her eyes.

Then he smiled, a barely noticeable quirk of his lips, but she noticed and she smiled back.

Sasuke turned his gaze away from her, suddenly flustered.

''Okaeri Sakura.''

''Tadaima Sasuke.''

He raised his head again expecting to see her smile, but instaed he saw a flash of pink as she hugged him, after a momeent, he wrapped his only arm around her.

''I missed you.'' She said, voice muffled by his cloak.

Sasuke breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be finally home, to experience the familiar feeling of her arms wrapped around him

''Sasuke! '' Naruto screamed as he entered Sakura's office, ''You didn't come to my wedding you bastard datteba— hey Sasuke get your hands off Sakura-chan!''

Sakura's face turned red, from anger or from embarresement, Sasuke didn't know, but he knew the idiot is going to be in pain in a couple of seconds.

''Naruto! How many times do I have to tell you not to barge into my office you fucking idiot!'' she scolded as she punched Naruto on his head.

Sasuke sighed again but this time out of annoyance at the blonde idiot for ruining the moment.

''But Sakura-chan Sasuke didn't come to see me yet and I wanted to give him a piece of my mind for missing my wedding dattebayo!.'' The blonde man whined.

''I don't give a shit Naruto, next time knock or I'll knock your teeth out shanaroo!''

Naruto moved behind Sasuke to shield himself from the pink haired women.

''Idiot.'' Sasuke muttered.

''Well hello to you too bastard.''

''Language Naruto! This is a children's hospital.''

''Do you even hear yourself talk Sakura-chan.''

Something told Sasuke that there's going to be another hole in the wall soon.

After Sakura made another hole in the wall ( which he predicted happening) they agreed to meet up at Ichiraku's at seven.

Sasuke arrived first, so he took a seat, his seat, the seat he would always sit on when they were genin.

''This place is pretty nostalgic huh?'' questioned a voice from next to him.

''Hn.''

Sakura sat next to him, on her usual seat too.

''Oh my god he's even more handsome than the last time I saw him.''

Sasuke looked behind him to see that the remark came from a girl sitting at the booth at the far left. She looked away when he looked at her.

Long ago, it would be Sakura sitting in the same chair she is sitting in now, saying those things, and Sasuke's lip twitched at the thought.

''What are you smirking about?''

Sasuke tore his gaze from the table to look at the green eyed beauty sitting next to him., he never noticed how beautiful she is until now, sure he once thought of her as pretty when they were genin, but, as someone who roamed the world, he can say that Sakura is a very beautiful women.

''That girl, reminded me of you when we were young.''

'' I was never so loud.'' She defended, slightly embaressed of the way she used to act.

''Yeah, you used to shout it from the other side of the academy.''

'' Since when do you talk so much? And besides I'm a whole other person now.''

''No you're not.''

''What do you mean by that?''

Sasuke opened his mouth to answer when their third team member intervened.

''If you guys wanted to have a double date I would have brought Hinata with me.'' Naruto remarked, upon seeing his teammates close proximity to each other.

Sakura was about to deny this being a date but she noticed Sasuke's confusion.

''Hinata is Naruto's wife, she graduated with us remember?'' she told him,

Sasuke vaguely remembered a hyuuga girl hiding behind a pole when Naruto was around.

''Now all that's missing is Kakashi-sensei.'' Naruto said.

''Well then it's a good thing a black cat was blocking the other way to my house.'' Kakashi said as he took his usual seat.

''Always with the perfect timing Kakashi sensei.'' Sakura remarked.

''You guys should stop calling me sensei, I stopped being your sensei in the war.''

Both Naruto and Sakura opened their mouths to interject, but surprisingly Sasuke was the one who spoke.

''You will always be our sensei Kakashi.'' He said, while stirring the ramen in his bowl like he just commented on the weather.

Kakashi smiled, ''You really matured Sasuke.''

''Hn.''

Naruto and Sakura both smiled, glad of what team 7 has become.

A half hour later Sakura announced that she has to leave cause she has work early in the morning.

''Actually Sakura I have a mission for you, I'll relieve you of your duties tomorrow in exchange.''

Sakura sighed, ''What's the mission?''

''It's rather simple, I just need you to deliver something to a village nearby, It's a C rank, but I can't send genin on such short notice and the chunin are all either busy or on break, Sasuke can come with you to keep you company.''

''That's not necessary.''

''I'll come.''

''Okay then it's settled.'' Kakashi said as handed Sakura a scroll, which contained the mission info and object to deliver.

''I want to come too!'' Naruto demanded.

''Naruto, you have a wife, you shouldn't leave her alone all night.'' Kakashi reminded Naruto, and besides his other two students needed some time alone.

Kakashi knew Sakura loved Sasuke from all her heart, and he had a lingering suspicion that Sasuke cared about Sakura more than just a friend ever since they were genin, but now, it's no longer a suspicion.

It was obvious to him since the moment he walked into Ichiraku, the way they were sitting so close to each other, the way Sasuke's eyes sparked every time Sakura looked at him and the way he turned his head away from her to hide the redness of his face every time she'd smile.

Naruto sighed.

''Yeah she'll get worried, then I'm going home now.'' Naruto said as he turned around and waved his teammates goodbye.

''And I should head back to work before shizune drags me back to my office.'' Kakashi said as he poofed out.

''That mission was way too easy.'' Sakura said as she ran beside Sasuke.

''Hn.''

''Hey Sasuke?''

''Hn?''

''Back at ichiraku, you said I haven't changed a lot from when we were genin, what did you mean by that?''

''I meant what you heard.''

And he calls me annoying she thought

Sakura stopped on a tree branch and pouted, which actually earned her a chuckle from Sasuke.

''Did you just laugh!?'' Sakura asked, surprised since she rarely head him laugh before.

Sasuke didn't acknowledge her question, instead he answered her former question.

''Ever since what happened in the forest of death, I viewed you as a warrior, and you still are, a lot of things changed about you, but you're still the girl I knew since back then.''

''Sasuke…'' she muttered

''The sun is almost rising,'' he remarked, '' follow me.''

''Where?''

''Just come.''

After a couple of minutes they arrived at what Sakura presumed to be their destination since Sasuke stopped.

They stopped on a hill that overlooked a vast surface of water, there was a strange glass tower behind a stone bench.

Sakura looked at her wristwatch, suddenly remembering that she has a therapy session with a ten year old boy in an hour, it was 5:27a.m now her alarm is going to go off in two and a half minutes, she was about to ask Sasuke why he brought her here but then she noticed it, the orange hue that filled the sky behind the sea.

Sasuke moved towards the bench and sat on it, when he saw that Sakura didn't move, he patted the spot beside him.

Sakura and Sasuke watched as sunlight filled the dark sky, it was bright and captivating, as it was impossible for both of them to tear their gaze from the beautiful view in front of them.

Sakura unconsciously leaned her head on Sasuke's shoulder, drowsiness taking over her senses, but she could still feel Sasuke's warm hand hold her own.

The black haired man watched as Sakura's eyes slowly closed, and the green jewels he loved so much disappeared from his sight, he would have raised his hand and got her hair out of her face, but he quite enjoyed her light gripe on his hand.

This… this is what he dreamed about these past three years, this is what kept him going on his journey, to have this amazing women by his side was another incentive to seek redemption, to be able to enjoy her company without lingering guilt of what he did.

Of course, he will never forget what he did, what he almost did to her, and he's ready to spend the rest of his life atoning for it if it means he can enjoy these moments with her without the devil whispering in his ear that he doesn't deserve this.

He interlocked his fingers with hers, as he felt her grip on his hand become harder, like she was afraid he will let go and run away.

Never, never will I do that to you again, he thought as he leaned his head on her own.

He shifted his gaze from the pink haired women to the now fully risen sun.

This is perfect

And that was his last thought before he heard a beeping noise and Sakura's head jerked upwards violently, colliding with his nose.

''Ow!'' the pink haired women screeched, she looked up to see on what she hit her head only to see Sasuke's bloody face.

''Shit!''

If there wasn't searing pain pouncing in his skull right now, he would've appreciated the irony of the children's hospital director having such a potty mouth.

''I'm so so sorry , Sasuke, my alarm just surprised me.'' She said as she healed his bloody nose.

This is the second time she physically hurt him in the last 24 hours, but this time annoyance is winning over pride.

''Sakura?'' he said, voice a little squeaky since she's holding his nose.

She looked up at his eyes guiltly.

''Hn?''

''You're a very annoying women.''

#sasusaku #sasuke uchiha #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #naruto uzumaki #team 7 #kakashi hatake #fanfiction #fanfic #a very annoying women

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9r7g5h · 7 years

Text

Remember All - P1

Fandom: Xena: Warrior Princess

Overall Rating: T+ (Rating subject to change); Chapter Rating: K

Genre: General

Summary: Given another chance, left with her memories of their first time through, Gabrielle knows there's only one option for her- let Xena live. Whatever she had to do, whatever she had to change to make sure that would happen, Gabrielle was willing to do it.

Words: 4,684

AN 1: So, a while ago, I had made a tumblr post about how I prefer to put 'When Fates Collide' after FIN, just because the episodic nature of the show allows it and because I love that episode the most. I also put forward the idea of how cool it would have been if, at the end of 'When Fates Collide,' instead of reuniting Xena and Gabrielle, the beginning of 'Sins of the Past' had started playing. Because the idea that the two of them are so in love they would be willing to go through all of the heartache and pain once more, just to have those precious few years together? I adore it. Now, the lovely @acrossnowhere made a comment on my post about Gabrielle possibly remembering everything that happened, and my mind exploded. It exploded, resulting in a giant ass fic that's already almost 30K and still not done yet, so yeah. This is going to be a ride, my friends, and I hope you enjoy!

AN 2: Just a reminder, I place 'When Fates Collide' after FIN, so there's some slight inconsistency with the actual airing of the show. But this is fanfic and I don't care.

Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

P1, P2, ???

It was sick, Gabrielle could admit, but standing there, watching the flames? She couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction in knowing that the world had tried so hard to keep them apart, and it would burn for its sins.

She sunk to her knees as she watched the loom burn, the fire spreading up through the tangled threads to the wood itself. It was beautiful, watching this disgusting mess, this pale imitation of what could have been, destroy itself. She didn’t care that it would destroy everything along with it- the universe had taken Xena from her in both worlds, so why should she? Why should she care, when just a few miles away, the other half of her soul was dead; when in the other world, her soulmate was nothing more than ash? It didn’t matter to her, either way. Her life was already over- she was just waiting for it to end.

Closing her eyes, Gabrielle tilted her head back as the flames consumed the last of the wood, a small smile on her lips even as the Fates behind her screamed, pleaded with her to see reason, begged for a chance to make this right. Closing her eyes as the fire spread to the carpet she kneeled on, Gabrielle felt the flames began to lick at her skin, the pain almost nothing in comparison to the pain in her heart.

Closing her eyes, Gabrielle screamed.

“Gabrielle? Gabrielle, come on! It’s your turn to get the eggs.”

Only to open them as Lila called her name, poking her in the side to get her to wake up.

It was a dream, she eventually settled on. A dying dream as she burned, as the world crumbled around her. For some reason her mind had chosen to bring her back home, back to when she was young, before she had ever met Xena- one last good bye, perhaps, to the people she had lost? Or perhaps a reminder of what had been lost, the innocence and calm that had long since disappeared from her life. She couldn’t be sure- all Gabrielle knew was that, when she left her bed, her mother was at the fire place, checking on their bread, while her father brought in the last bucket of water their home would need before he left for the field. People who smiled at her and greeted her a good morning, even if her father poked fun at her late rising.

People who accepted her hug and held her as she began to cry, trying to sooth away whatever night terror had brought her to tears.

It was strange, this dream. She passed the hours in almost a daze, helping her mother and sister with their chores, calling her father in for lunch, laughing and joking with them in a way she hadn't done in years. At least, years in the original world, the one this most resembled. She still had her memories of the other world, the world Caesar had brought upon them, and there she had seen her family just a week before she had left for Rome.

Lila had been pregnant again, more than happily married to the man she loved, the man who tended her vineyard and turned the grapes into wine. Their parents had never left the farm, even after Gabrielle had offered to buy them a house closer to her own, but they made the effort to visit between the harvests. They had all been preparing one last family dinner before her boat left, since her tour with her play would keep her away for who knew how long. It had been nice, catching up with them all, promising she would send word of how the play was received, promising the children presents all the way from Rome. It had been nice, even if it hadn't been real.

The last time in the real would had been after Hope, after Gabrielle had died and come back to life, something even she couldn't understand. And then it had been an argument, a series of explanations as they tried to get her parents to understand what had happened, tried to get them to realize the lies Hope had placed in their heads, tried to give them the truth.

Xena had eventually lied, when it had become clear that demon children that grew up to look exactly like their mothers were too much for them. She claimed an evil god had created a shape shifter, something that could mimic another being perfectly. Said shape shifter had first seen Gabrielle after it had been born, and had chosen her to model itself after. Said that she and Gabrielle had gotten separated from each other, and when Xena came to Potediea to find her, had found the creature instead, pretending to be her. That the creature had then lied, tried to turn Gabrielle's family against her, and would have succeeded if not for the real Gabrielle reaching Potediea herself, just in time.

It had been a bitter parting, having to leave her parents with lies about their lives, but what else could she have done?

So this dream was nice. It was normal, safe, a couple of months before she met Xena, if Gabrielle had to place it somewhere in her past. A dream where she could remember the family she had lost, and have one more day with them before her mind was destroyed with the rest of the world.

Until that night. Until after dinner, as they all sat around the fireplace, keeping themselves busy until it was time for bed. Her mother spinning, Lila playing with the cat, her father working on some small carving- if this was to be her last night here, for Gabrielle was sure the dream would end the moment she went to sleep, she would spent it with some fragment of normalcy. So she had a scroll and a quill and some ink, idly writing out whatever came to mind, at peace with the world around her and the last remnants of her dream.

"I don't know why you bother," Heradotus sighed, shaking his head as he glanced up at her parchment- not that he could read it, no; it was Hecuba who could read, and who had insisted on teaching both girls, even if their father saw no use it in. He knew just enough to read a road sign if he had to travel, and even then, he took the same path he always had, making it unnecessary. "You need to get your head out of the cloud, girl. Those stories will never do anything for you."

"Heradotus, leave her alone," Hecuba said, her eyes never leaving her work, her hands never stopping, but a warning tone in her voice. "She's happy- let her write."

"There's more important things she could be doing," he protested, as if Gabrielle wasn't there, sitting tense and listening to every word. "Like weaving or sewing or half a dozen other things that are actually worth wild doing. Your scarf you're going to make with that yarn will keep one of us warm, or will sell for a couple extra dinars for the winter. Words aren't worth nothing."

Part of Gabrielle was still, frozen, trying desperately to ignore the words falling from her father's mouth. It was an argument he and her mother had had time and time again, an argument that would end with both of them angry and neither of them speaking to the other. He would apologize for it the next day, bringing her a new quill or vial of ink, and would ask for her to tell a story for them to listen to, nodding in approval as she spoke. And during the winter that was all he would ask, story after story as they sat cooped up in the house, unable to go further than the barn due to the snow piled almost as high as she was tall. He would say how well she spoke, how good her stories were, and this was an argument that would lie dormant for at least a couple of months.

But reading and writing weren't traits expected of a wife, and whenever he got started on thinking about the future, about how Perdicas, even though he wanted to marry her, had his entire family supporting him taking some other, less head strong girl as a wife, Heradotus' disapproval would rear its nasty head once more.

So part of her told her to ignore it, reminded her that this would pass. But the part that remembered this was a dream- that remembered Gabrielle was much older than she seemed, someone who had spent the last almost thirty years (most of them asleep, yes, but still she counted them) as friend, companion, and lover to the most dangerous woman in the world; the part that reminded her she was an Amazon Queen and how dare a man speak to her that way; the part that reminded her she was friends with the gods themselves- told her to prove him wrong.

"Where are you going?"

The question was surprised as she stood- she had never interfered with her parent's arguments before, instead just keeping her head down as she let them work through it. Now they both just stared at her as she picked her way out of their circle, stepping over Lila and their cat, stopping only long enough to grab her bag before she was out the door.

Out the door and running, right towards town, her mother's voice fading into the night as she left to prove him wrong.

The tavern was still full she reached it- not a surprise, really. Most people would have just finished eating dinner, and most often came to wet their throats and have a good laugh after a long, hard day's work. It was still early enough that no one was too drunk, that she didn't have to fear from that lot, even if she was sure she'd be able to beat them (her body might have returned to being soft, but her mind was still that of a warrior's), and almost every chair still full when she opened the door and walked inside.

"Go home, girl," the tavern owner growled when he glanced up to see who had entered his establishment. He knew her, she could see, his eyes lighting up with recognition, even if he didn't know her name. "This is no place for someone like you at this hour. Go home, or come back with your father to keep you safe." Expecting her to obey, he returned to cleaning his counter, wiping a grimy rag over a patch of spilled stew before it could soak into the wood.

"I can protect myself." His hand paused at the conviction in her words, and he looked up at her again, this time giving her more than a moment of his attention. Pointing towards a large bowl Gabrielle could see behind him, she nodded towards the front of the room, where a small stage lay empty. It was rare for performers to arrive in little Potediea, but still one was always there, just in case. "I'm a bard, and I bet you I can fill that bowl before the end of the night."

It was clear the man wanted to laugh, that he thought her delusional, but still he reached behind him and grabbed the bowl, emptying the grapes it had held into another and wiping it clean. He held it out in one hand, his other offered as well. "If you fail, you come work for me this winter. For free. Deal?"

The way he spoke made it clear he thought he was going to win, and would get another pair of hands to help out without having to spend a single extra dinar. Smiling widely, Gabrielle took the bowl and shook his hand, and went to stand before the room.

And found herself frozen as she tried to find a story to tell.

All of the stories she had were of Xena- of the good she had done, of the evil she had once partaken in, of the way she had made the world turn and bow before her. For years now, Xena had been her muse, her inspiration, the source of her stories- even in the other world, in the fake world Ceasar had created, Xena had still been her everything, even if Gabrielle hadn't known it. So what stories did she have now? She had the old legends, the old myths everyone here would have grown up knowing, but nothing good enough to actually fill the giant bowl now sitting before her.

For a moment she panicked, because how could she tell a story that didn't exist? A story from the future, a future that was still to be seen?

But only for a moment. Because this was a dream, she reminded herself, and who cared if a group of peasants from Potediea knew about the future in a dream? What did it matter to them, or to the gods, if soon this world would come to an end? But just to be safe...

Looking out at the crowd, many of whom had taken to ignoring her, muttering about their hopes getting up and being disappointed at the lack of entertainment, Gabrielle met the tavern owner's smug gaze and spoke.

"I sing of Nea," Gabrielle called to the crowd, stomping her foot three time to gain their attention, "the fiercest warrior in the land, and how she saved a soul from a fate worse than death- marriage to a god."

They were enthralled, captivated as Gabrielle described the kidnapping by the priests, the advice 'Nea' had given to her young companion, the mental battles the warrior had had to face in order to save her friend. Not a single word was spoke as Gabrielle told her tale, not a single person moved as they watched as Gabrielle's hands acted out the performance before them. Not a single breathe was drawn as she explained the slowly moving panel behind the young woman and the man before her with a sword, forcing her to choose either between killing him or her own death.

For a long while, as Gabrielle stood there, staring out into the silence, nothing happened. No one spoke, no one moved- it seemed as if the tavern had been frozen in time.

Until one little voice, a traveling merchant's child, sandwiched between its parents, asked for another.

With that little voice, the room erupted into applause, dozens of handfuls of dinars falling into her bowl, everyone begging for another, for something else to entertain them as they whittled away the night. Gabrielle promised, after she had had something to drink, and before she could order a handful of people started calling for the owner to bring her some water, some wine, some ale, whatever she wanted to drink. Just for him to be quick, so the next story could begin.

She took a cider, expecting the owner to be belligerent - most men were, when they lost a bet they had been sure they would win. But instead he just stared down at the almost filled bowl and quietly offered her his stage any night she wanted.

Considering it was common that performers left at least a portion of what they made to the owner of the venue where they performed, tonight would mean a hefty sum in both of their purses, something both of them could benefit from.

She told two more stories that night- her own play from that other world, shifted a bit for only one performer instead of a full cast, adding in an extra fight scene to appease the critics, and the story with Diana (artfully called Niada); the first drawing tears to their eyes, heartfelt sobs ripped from what seemed to be even the toughest of throats, and the second sending them howling with laughter, quite a few of the drunker members of the audience finding themselves on the floor as she spoke.

By the time the night had passed, the bowl would have had to be thrice as big to hold all of the dinars dumped at her feet, piles of them scattering around her as thankful patrons left their tips for her tales before stumbling off to home. Some of the travelers tried to proposition her- there was always room in a caravan for such an accomplished storyteller. But Gabrielle just shook her head and thanked them for their interest, making it clear that, after such a long night, she had to go home.

The owner only took a third of what she earned- less than the usual commission people demanded of her, Gabrielle noticed, but the overall sum was more than she usually made, especially since she and Xena had mainly stuck to the back roads, smaller villages. And she knew if she continued to perform here, the sum would never be quite as large again. She had gotten lucky, and a couple of merchant caravans had arrived the day before, giving her a large audience with deep pockets to spin her stories too. Still, even with his 'discount,' the owner was more than pleased, helping Gabrielle to scoop the rest of the dinars into her bag, enough to make it weigh heavily on her shoulder.

"You're Heradotus' kid, right," the man asked, walking with her towards the front door. Behind them, serving girls were helping the last of the drunks upright and up to bed, while a few others set about to cleaning up the room. "You're not walking home, not this late and with that much coin. Come on."

He didn't give her an option, really, and while Gabrielle knew she could take him and any who tried to bother her, she instead followed after him, and allowed herself to be hoisted onto the back of a large black horse after the tavern owner had finished saddling him. She was tired, and she trusted the man, at least to a point.

"Which one are you again?"

"Gabrielle."

"Well, Gabrielle, if you keep performing at my tavern, we're going to become the best of friends."

He rode the horse fast, passing drunks who hailed them, ending up at the farm far quicker than Gabrielle would have been able to make on foot. He even escorted her to the door, knocking and making sure she was in the thankful arms of her parents- though he gave her a particular look when Heradotus and Hecuba pulled her in, both of them almost crying from worry as they scolded her for disappearing for most of the night. It was right there before her parents that he offered for her to perform at the tavern again, saying clearly how good her stories were and how she had brought in nearly a week's worth of profit for him from that one night alone, before nodding his head and leaving for his own home and bed.

They almost started interrogating her, Hecuba and Heradotus demanding to know where she had gone, why she had run off like that, what had possessed her to do such a thing and worry them so, only to stop as Gabrielle dropped her bag onto the kitchen table, the dinars clanking merrily within.

She said her good nights, holding them both in a long hug before finally heading to bed, leaving her parents to stare into the sack at the pile of coins she had brought home. Giving Lila- already asleep- a kiss on her cheek, Gabrielle kicked off her shoes before sliding into bed, ready for this dream to finally end.

Only it didn't. She woke up the next morning, still in bed, as Hecuba shook her awake and asked her to come talk with her and her father.

It wasn't a long discussion, no. Gabrielle admitted that she had gone to the tavern, told stories there to show that her stories did have some value, and that had been the extent of her plan. She hadn't been planning on doing anything with the dinars (she hadn't expected to wake up again, for surely the world should have disintegrated by now); she had just wanted to show Heradotus that he was wrong.

She had, and while there wasn't enough money to pay for it now, if Gabrielle kept performing at the tavern, by next year there would be enough to send her to Athens for training.

Gabrielle, just confused by the fact she was still there, that the dream was continuing despite the fact it should have ended, despite the fact that her mind should have crumbled to dust as the universe was destroyed along with the loom, just agreed as eagerly as she could make herself sound. Because while it was a long while away, the idea of going to Athens was appealing, even if she was sure the dream would end long before she got there.

So she agreed, and while it wasn't every night, since she still had to help out around the farm, Gabrielle went to the tavern and told her tales, returning home with a pouch full of dinars to eventually get her to Athens.

It all passed in a daze, day after day sliding into the next, as Gabrielle tried to figure out what was going on. Because the longer the dream continued, the less she believed it truly was a dream. Because things were happening. Things she remembered, from when she lived through them the first time.

A neighbor's cow, previously healthy if old, sickened and died within just a few days. The first time it had taken them months to figure out why, but this time Gabrielle already knew. Knew that there was a little pond just beyond the farmer's land, where a fox had fallen in and drowned, polluting the water. The cow had slipped through a hole in the farmer's wall, drunk from the still pond, and had died from it.

A child got lost in the woods. The first time had taken them two days to find him, cold and hungry and almost delirious from thirst. This time she knew, and it only took her a few hours to find the cave he had crawled into after he had broken his leg climbing a tree. The parents had cried over her, asking the gods to bless her for bringing him home, when before they had done it over one of the other men in the village.

A woman gave birth, and this time Gabrielle knew it would be a girl, and she knew the woman would name her Gelda, and she knew all about that child. About the life she would live and the way she would grow up, about everything to come.

The more these happened, the more Gabrielle knew, the less she believed it was a dream. Because things were different, yes, things that she herself changed that were different from what she remembered. But that which she had no control over? That which she just barely remembered, and didn't know how to change? That stayed the same.

She couldn't believe that it was a dream, not anymore, not as the days and weeks and months passed. Not as she woke up and dressed herself, preparing for the day ahead. Not as she heard the screams, the excited yells coming from the village. Not as her father yelled at them to run, as she and the other women nearby ran towards the forest with men on their heels, trying to catch them.

Not as she stepped forward, just as she remembered, to offer herself to the men, and not as she stepped forward as well, demanding they fight her. Not as Xena, standing there in just her shift, just as Gabrielle remembered, fought the army and saved them all.

It couldn't be a dream, Gabrielle had realized and accepted that by now. If it wasn't a dream, then it had to be real, and if it was real, she had another chance.

Another chance with Xena, another chance to live a life with her, another chance to make things right.

Part of her wanted to tell her the truth, right then and there. To tell her that they were soulmates, to tell her that they were friends, lovers, that they meant everything in the world to each other. That when all else failed, they still had each other. Part of Gabrielle wanted to do nothing more than to pull her into a kiss, and make it clear what their future would hold.

But she restrained herself. She couldn't do that, even if she wanted to. Xena wasn't ready for some overwhelming confession of love from a stranger, even if that stranger could list every single secret Xena had kept from the world. Even if that stranger knew her better than she knew herself.

So, instead, Gabrielle followed what she remembered, and asked.

"Please, you have to take me with you."

She listed what traits she had- reading, writing, map reading, everything she could think of. She almost listed knowledge of what was to come, but stopped herself before she could; she knew the future, yes, knew what was to come, but things were going to change, if she had it her way. The world would be different, and she didn't know when the differences would come. So she held her tongue and instead begged Xena through every other way she had to please, take her with her.

And just like before, Xena said no. Her mother had made a comment about her going to Athens, Perdicas had tried to pull her away, despite their engagement being put off since she was going to school, and Xena told her no. Told her she had a life here, that it was dangerous, and that she wasn't taking her along.

It was a good thing Gabrielle already knew the way, avoiding the cyclops and hitching a ride with the first cart that came along. Only this time she was prepared- her bags packed with all the dinars she had made that would have been for Athens, easily carried foods that would actually last replacing the soft bread and fruits she had packed the last time, flint and steel and a small knife hidden away so she could survive alone if she had to. This time she knew, knew exactly what she was getting into, and Gabrielle went prepared.

It went exactly as she remembered it going- she caught up to Xena, stopped the people of Amphopolis from making the biggest mistake of their life, and Xena stopped Draco. She saved the town from his army, and when she left them, Gabrielle followed.

Followed her to her brother's grave, and made it known that Xena wasn't alone (she had wanted to say she'd never be alone, that as long as she lived, Xena would always have a friend, but perhaps that was too much, even for her). Followed her as she left the town, upset over her treatment by the people she had once called family. Followed her into the camp, pretending to need Xena's fire. She had the flint, had the know-how, but Xena just smiled and offered her the other side of the fire, and while Gabrielle itched to protest (in the first world, it had taken over a year for them to share the same side of the fire, but rarely had they separated after they had started), she had just settled into the furs without protest.

It was almost exactly as she remembered, exactly as it should be, and for now, for Gabrielle, that was enough. Things would change, she was sure of it- there were so many regrets she had, so many things that she needed to do to make sure their future was a little bit better, but for now, this was enough.

It was enough that Gabrielle remembered it all, and could change it as they went.

#Xena #XWP #Xena: Warrior Princess #Xena fanfic #Xena fanfiction #XWP fanfic #XWP fanfiction #Xena: Warrior Princess fanfic #Xena: Warrior Princess fanfiction

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crabsticksforbreakfast · 7 years

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I haven’t been on here for a while...

In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I updated you. I guess I could sum it up by saying, things were going well, really well, and then they weren’t, and now I’m confused and a little bit screwed up.

A few weeks ago everything seemed fine. S2 and I were talking pretty much every day, but underneath, something was bubbling up that I only vaguely suspected... S2, it seems, got scared.

During the last half term, he was getting pretty brave, and so was I. We even had a few “almost” moments. One of these was him messaging me to tell me his parents had gone out, effectively hinting that I could come round, but then he said they weren’t out for long which put me off going over. I really didn’t want the “first time” to be rushed. Going round his for a quick one would have cheapened the whole thing and I would have regretted it. As well as “almosts”, there was also one time when I invited him out for a drive. He neither said yes or no, and when it came down to it, and he got in touch with me that day, he decided it was too late, but he “would have if it had been earlier”. He also fobbed me off with the old excuse that he’d be working a lot during the week. When we reunited after the holiday, he told me he hadn’t gone in at all. Although to any sane person, all of this would have set off alarms, I settled it in my mind as I knew he was always going to be difficult to pin down.

Back at work, things were good. The banter flowed, and after hours, we still messaged. There were a few days when it trailed off, but I put that down to him leaving me to revise for my uni exam. And sure enough, once the exam had been and gone, he started messaging me again. This was on the Friday after he had made some hints about having a boring weekend ahead of him. I deliberately ignored his hints as I had told him during the holiday that I wasn’t going to ask again, and if he wanted to do something, it was up to him to ask me.

On the Friday we flirted, and on the Saturday, I went out with WW and Twin all day, which S2 knew about, so we didn’t talk at all. On the Sunday, we messaged again a little during the day, then a lot in the evening. Things got steamy, scarily so in fact. The things he was saying and coaxing me to say pushed me out of my comfort zone, and in the end I kind of snapped. Then, everything spiralled out of control between us and it ended with him telling me he hadn’t meant any of it and it was all just a “fun conversation”. I was mortified and said that if that was the case, we should stop. And it did. He said a couple of irrelevant things, then I pleaded for him to let me sleep, and when I checked my phone an hour later, he had deactivated his Facebook account. I felt the bottom fall out of my world. It was over.

The next day at work was awful. He avoided me like the plague and in the few moments we were in the same place at the same time, I couldn’t look at him. I felt humiliated. If this was all a joke, then I was surely the punchline. I felt the need to protect myself from him, and the only way I could do that was to shut him out. He stayed away, and as much as I wanted this, it also made me angry. I wanted him to fight to keep me. I was livid, yes, but I still loved him.

During that dreadful Monday, we finally found out about our jobs and whether they were safe or not. Mine is, S2′s isn’t. As the week went on and the odds were worked out, S2′s hopes of remaining at work seemed slim to none. He was devastated, but I didn’t know that because we weren’t talking. From what he had said to me on Sunday, I believed he wanted to leave. Either way, I was still too emotional to say or do anything. I didn’t even know what to feel most of the time.

On Thursday, I was in a mess. I was so confused and angry, and I missed him. All I could do was stare at his greyed out face on Messenger, willing him to return, but it seemed unlikely. Nothing made me feel better, even though I was really trying to keep afloat. Then, in the evening, a friend of mine who lives down the street posted something on Facebook which I commented on, and somehow it ended with her inviting me over for a cup of tea and a rant. I gladly accepted and went over, and I was shocked how she already seemed to know what was wrong.

“It’s about a guy, isn’t it?” She asked, sorting the tea. “Or should I say, a boy? Well, he’s not a boy, but he is very immature.”

How did she know? I was dumbfounded. As much as I credit S2 with a lot of maturity in some ways, he does have some very childish aspects, and in fact, during our spat, he admitted to being childish. It seemed weird to me that my friend, let’s call her Hen, knew so much. She led me into the garden and we sat on a bench. She told me to spill, so I gave her a summary of the whole story from beginning to end. Her perceptions were:

* He likes me, he’s just scared of commitment * He is autistic (she put it as eccentric, but later clarified that’s what she meant) * This wasn’t a lost cause, but it would have to be me who made a move to fix things * I should do something to show him how I feel - a handwritten letter

I resisted her idea at first (aaaagh, emotional vulnerability), but then she said something that really resonated with me.

“At this point, you have nothing to lose, do you? Pull the plaster off.” She was right. I really did have nothing to lose. He wasn’t even speaking to me, so if I lost him officially, it wouldn’t really be that different. I decided to do it, no matter how scary I found the idea.

Then, as we were discussing the situation further, Hen turned to me suddenly.

“Who’s Alice in your family?” She asked. I couldn’t think. There is no Alice in my family. Hen then said she was someone no longer living and I vaguely remembered there being an Alice far back in my family tree. I asked Hen why and she said, “She’s standing right here.”

My heart skipped a beat and a rush of positivity ran through me. Hen then gave me a few images to prove the validity of her claim, such as describing something in my house (a house she has never been inside). She then started to talk about my Grandmother, and to my amazement, she was also there! Hen passed on several memories from my Grandmother that she could never have known about, and then my Grandad appeared too! I said to Hen that I’d have loved to know what my Grandmother would have thought of S2 as it all started around the time she died. To my astoundment, Hen said, “This is very out of character for her, but she’s standing here doing this...” and put her two thumbs up. Thumbs up! That was mine and S2′s “thing”. The amount of thumbs we must have sent each other! I hadn’t mentioned that at all when I told Hen the story!

The spirits didn’t stop coming, and before I knew it, my brother was there, as well as my beloved Great Grandmother who has visited me before, my Grandmother’s brother, my old manager, my missing cats, and some other animals. The messages kept coming and coming, and some of them were so scarily accurate that there was no way this could have been fake. Hen knew all the names of my relatives, as well as details such as how old they’d been when they died, and how long they had been dead for. She even knew there was a cat buried in my garden. That happened YEARS before she moved into the street!

Hen’s husband cooked her some dinner, so I had to leave, but I felt like I was floating on a cloud! I’d been pulled back from the brink, if I’m honest. I had had a few worrying thoughts, but this boosted me to the point where I felt determined to fight and fix things, not just in terms of S2, but I wanted to take steps to make my whole life better. My Grandad had told me off for hating my body so much, and also for constantly checking to see if S2 had messaged me. He said he knew it would be hard for me to stop completely, but told me to ween myself off of it. I knew he was right. It was time to hang back, and as he put it, “go with the flow”.

The next day, I knew it was time to talk to S2. The plan was to get him alone and ask if we could stop being awkward. I didn’t need to in the end. When I arrived at work, I went to the exam room where the team were setting up. S2 was sitting with his back to me as I entered, and at that moment, I was too nervous to even look at him. As I buzzed around, I glanced at him and saw that he was watching me with a painfully sad expression on his face. It cracked my heart in two, but now wasn’t the time, not with everyone else there.

Once I’d gone to complete a small task, I returned and sat in the exam room, which was now empty. S2 was talking to the kids outside the door, then he came in and walked over in my direction, and as he glanced up at me, I managed to give him a tiny smile. It was as if I had pressed a button as he suddenly started to mumble something. I asked him if he was OK. He said he was and asked the same of me. We then had a very pointless conversation about tea until a student came in for a chat, which further helped to break the ice as it bridged the gap between us a little more.

Later on in the day I got another chance to talk to S2 alone and I asked him what was going on for him job wise. He was planning to apply for a teaching job, which in my mind seemed perfect for him, but he said he didn’t really want it. I couldn’t see why, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up by assuming he wanted to stay here for me. I gave him some reassurance then he went off to do something else.

That afternoon, Diva and I were discussing the work situation and I ended up getting really passionate about things, probably to the point where I made my feelings for S2 quite obvious, but of course Diva didn’t let on that she knew. We were pondering about the various people who for some bizarre reason are able to apply for S2′s job before him, and how we could put them off so he stood a chance of staying. I felt like a warrior and I no longer cared how obvious it was. Despite all the crap that had gone on between us, I still cared about S2 and wanted to fight for him.

Over the weekend, I had a chance to get my head together a bit. Skittles and I went to a gig to see one of my all time favourite bands. Their songs reduce me to tears and have always been somewhere to turn to when I’ve felt sad. At the gig though, I felt nothing but happiness as I sang along just a few feet from the stage. The next day, I felt inspired to work on some more music of my own. My Grandparents had also suggested I do this. As if by magic, I ended up writing a really good song that said everything I was feeling and also would have been obvious to S2 that it was about him. Even the title gave it away. In a moment of bravery/recklessness, I posted my song on Facebook. I kind of wanted S2 to hear it, but I didn’t expect him to, seeing as he wasn’t even active any more... I checked one last time and saw he was still missing, then went to bed.

In the morning I woke up and almost jumped out of my skin. He was back! I almost cried. But then I noticed that even though he was back, and still my friend, I had no ability to message him. What? Had he blocked my messages somehow? I couldn’t work it out. It would have been such a harsh move, and it didn’t make sense for him to do it, so I decided to go into work and see what happened rather than try to find explanations for it all - go with the flow.

At work, I was amazed at how normal S2 was being with me. I also caught him perving at my boobs. I knew even more than before that all he’d said about not meaning to flirt with me was a lie! He didn’t mention Facebook and neither did I, and when I got home, I had an idea. I deleted Messenger and reinstalled it, and that fixed the problem. I was now able to message him. I wasn’t going to, but at least I knew he hadn’t blocked me.

Throughout the week, things got better and better between us. We were talking like nothing had happened and sitting together at lunch. It also seemed like there was a little more hope for him staying around at work. I even played a part in this as I had managed to convince Nem to apply for a job elsewhere rather than go for S2′s job. There was no way I was going to let her take him away from me and weedle her way even deeper into my territory. Of course I put on a great act as supportive friend/motivational speaker, and there was no malice in my plan as such. It was all about preserving S2′s job.

Then, on Friday, I did something stupid. Stupid isn’t even the word... Embarrassing... Shameful. Yeah, those could work! I did something that would scare the living daylights out of any Facebook stalker... While hovering inside our chat, I accidentally managed to press to invite him to Messenger, which he has obviously not reinstalled. Crap, crap, crap!!! I panicked, the blood draining from my hands. How on Earth was I going to talk my way out of this one???

In the end I decided the best thing was to tell the truth, or a less pathetic version of it, that I had opened the chat then pressed it by accident. If he questioned me any further, I guess I’d just have to admit that I was looking at the chat because I missed talking to him. I think I’m beyond the point where I’m going to fight to preserve my dignity. Being made to feel like a joke had already put an end to that. Plus, with this uber emotional letter in its draft form, there was already a whole sack of emotional vulnerability to come...

I went to work knowing he wouldn’t see the notification until he next went on Facebook. I’d just have to act normally and enjoy my last day of freedom before he realised I was nothing more than a crazy stalker. Ugh. Luckily, the day was great. At lunch, he was ridiculously chatty and positive. It really did feel like old times, but I could tell he was still very conscious of how he was acting with me, trying not to be flirtatious. I tried not to over analyse it. He may have just been holding back because he knew how much he’d hurt me before. Who knows?

Then, at the end of the day, we bumped into each other as I was leaving and he gave me the biggest, most excited smile, like he was so pleased to see me. I still felt wary at the time, but once I walked away, I just felt happy. Things are OK between us, whatever that means at this point! Maybe this is just a bump in the road. Maybe hope isn’t lost!

Oh, and he still hasn’t seen my invite on Messenger! Aaaagh!!!

#love #love story #love stories

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