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xwing-baby · 4 years

Text

Freedom (Mandalorian X Reader

Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), The Child, Reader, OC Vinca Dara

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse, canon level violence

Word Count: 5691

Synopsis: Y/N is a princess from a planet in the inner rim. Successfully escaping her fate as a Imperial wife, she unfortunately becomes a target for the Mandalorian.

A/N: WOW I look pretty good for a dead bitch! I’m back after a two year writing hiatus, with a fic nobody asked for. This is my blog I’ll do what I want. I noticed that there’s not much Mandalorian stuff here, and the only stuff is all smutty and romantic. No more. Strictly professional relationships here. Basically it’s what I would write if I got to be a writer on the show. ENJOY

Tagged: @tortles @inked-poet @dartheldur

My home planet, in the core of the galaxy, was rich and prosperous. I grew up happily oblivious to any struggle that surrounded me outside the palace walls. I grew up with two older brothers, both jostling for the throne from the age of ten. My mother died in childbirth with me, so my father ruled alone. I had no other family, as I would later learn they had all been murdered by my father and his men to ensure his unopposed ascension to power.

It wasn’t until I was nearly sixteen years old that I learnt about what my father had done and what was really going on behind the palace walls. The only time I’d ever been allowed out of the palace grounds until that point was for public events, I would stand and wave and smile at the people who came to see us while my father gave a speech about peace and prosperity. However, on my sixteenth birthday I met a boy named Han. Han helped me escape for that one night, showed me around the surrounding city, and my life changed forever.

A year later, I made my first escape attempt. I didn’t get very far beyond that city perimeter before I was dragged back by the royal guards. I tried again, getting to the next town before again being captured and sent back to my father.

On my eighteenth birthday, I decided I would try once more. This time I had enlisted Han’s help, now a smuggler, to get me off the planet. I crept out in the depths of night, managed to find the ship and I was gone. That was until the captain of the ship found out who I was, held me hostage and shot me in the arm for trying to escape him and the planet. As it turned out the captain was a great supporter of my father and returned me, with a small fee for the favour of course.

For the next year, my father kept me under close supervision. But unlike my father, I had sympathy and empathy. I managed to make friends with my supervisor, a old lady named Ellyn. She taught me a lot about what was really going on outside the capitol. The famines and the abuse from the royal guards to the local people. She also told me of the growing concern within the palace of my father’s changing allegiance from the New Republic. These concerns only grew when Storm Troopers were spotted on the outskirts of the city.

Then I got the news. My father was intending to marry me off to Vinca Dara, the son of an Imperial officer, to aid the new Empire. I was horrified. My uncle had told me stories of the Old Empire when I was little, the pain it brought into the galaxy. The thought of having to be a part of anything like that made me sick. I had to run away, for good this time.

With Ellyn’s help, I managed to barter a ship and escape the planet without anyone realising. I reached the outer rim before anyone knew. By the time anyone had started to look for me I had landed on a new planet.

And that brought me here. A small, dirty back street bar in the centre of the city. The outer rim was not somewhere good for a princess to be, so to avoid the risk of anyone recognising me, I cut my hair, changed my name and hid.

Of course, a few bounty hunter’s had made their way to me. But I seemingly had luck on my side because they either gave up or I fought them off before they could capture me. The last attempt was several months ago now, I was comfortable and certain that my father had just given up.

The bar was busy, as always. Full of criminals and outcasts from the inner rim searching the wild space to something to do, or to give them purpose again. I had to learn fast who and who not to joke with. I learnt a lot more about the galaxy in the last three months of being in this cantina than I had in my life so far.

“Hey! No droids!” I called, not even lifting my head from the sink as I spotted a glint of metal in the corner of my mind.

“That’s not a droid, you idiot,” My coworker, Tann, jabbed me in the ribs, “That’s a mandalorian!” He hissed. “Sorry, she’s new!” He apologised. The Mandalorian didn’t respond.

“New to the galaxy,” One of the creatures at the bar slurred into his drink.

“Alright Rex calm down,” I said, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know they were real,” I said quietly as we all watched the man sit down at an empty table on the other side of the bar. Rex laughed and shook his head.

“You really crawled out from under a rock or something?”

“Just go do your job, please,” Tann sighed.

I nodded and confidently walked over to the bounty hunter.

“What can I get you?”

“I’m trying to find Asker,” The Mandalorian said, looking around behind me. Asker was a regular, a troublemaker and a renowned criminal, but he was paid his bill so the owners of the bar never minded too much. I wondered why the Mandalorian was looking for him for a moment before answering.

“He left a little while ago,” I replied, “But I imagine he won’t have gone far, maybe try the hostel up the street. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” The Mandalorian shook his head and stood up to leave.

“Mando!” The pot bellied Asker bellowed through the bar, announcing his presence before he waddled inside. For such a small creature he certainly knew how to make himself known. Asker was just over four feet tall, with grey-ish skin. His large eyes took most of his face that wasn’t covered by a whiley red beard. For someone so small, he was incredibly strong and quick on a trigger, the blast marks that covered the walls of the bar were testament to that.

The Mandalorian and Asker walked together to the darker back of the bar, specifically reserved for Asker's shady business. Like I said, the owners didn’t really care as long as he paid the bills.

“You know Mando, it’s been for too long! I missed you,” Asker cried.

“You didn’t,”

“No, not really,” Asker barked a laugh, “but I did miss your talent. These new hands they’ve got at the Guild? Awful! Can barely even shoot straight! I’ve been trying to get this quarry off my hands for weeks! All of the have been unsuccessful, so I thought it’s high time I call my lovely friend Mando and get some real professional on the job,”

“I don’t work for you,”

“Not even for half a million credits?”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,can I get you anything?”

“The usual, thanks darling. My metal friend here can’t drink so he’s all good,”

“Coming right up,”

I stepped back to the bar, and they talked a lot quieter from then. I poured the drink and walked back over, back in earshot of the conversation.

“Kids a royal runaway,” Asker said quietly. “Her father is a pretty big deal out in the Mirrin Sector. Last I heard, she’s here in hiding,”

“Any name?”

“Y/n L/n,”

I put the drinks down carefully, trying not let either of the men see how much my hands were shaking. My heart was racing against my chest and I scurried away before I could hear anything else. I leant against the bar and took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. It was fine, I’d fought off the last guys I could do it again. It’s not like mandalorian are the best bounty hunters in the known universe, no. Oh stars!

“I’m going out for a minute,” I said quickly, already walking out the back door before he could even say yes. I pulled the apron off from around my waist, shoving it into a cargo box before stepping into the bright light outside.

I squinted and let my eyes adjust to the bright light. Looking back inside, the Mandalorian had not noticed me leave. I was safe for now. I walked through the city's crowded streets, back to where I was staying to come up with a plan.

I smiled to myself, I’d gotten away with it once again! But four times was too many to be nearly captured by bounty hunters. It was no use anymore just moving to the city, I had to get off the planet.

The port was quiet, as it would be late in the afternoon. Everyone was either eating or sleeping while the sun started to cool down. I tried the first few stations but each door was locked, the next was empty and the one after it was covered in druids working on the rusted shell. Then, bay 8. The door was open, there were no druids around and the ship looked in pretty good condition. It was old, pre empire but it looked steady. I quickly checked behind me, that no one had seen me, then went inside, pushing the large gate shut behind me. I had found my ticket out of here.

My uncle had taught me to fly when I was very little. He unfortunately was murdered by my father before I turned 12 but I cherished the memories I had with him and was extremely grateful for the skills he had passed on now. The first time I ran away I ended on a workers ship and learnt very quickly that the price to pay to get onto the ships and out alive was far too high. The blast scar up my right arm was a reminder of that. Being able to steal a ship and fly it on my own was a major boost. Unfortunately I had been caught before I had managed to leave a planet before. Now was my chance.

I ran around the ship first, checking it out and making sure there was no one hiding on it. Now, to get inside...

Before I could even step closer to it, the cargo load hissed and pulled open. I pulled out my blaster and aimed it at the door. I stepped onto the metal once it hit the sand, and barely had the other in step when I saw who had opened it.

The Mandalorian.

Shit.

I kept my blaster raised, and we both stared at each other down for a few moments.

“You’re Y/n L/n?” He asked carefully.

“Are you going to kill me if I am?” I retorted. “Cus you’re not the first Asker has sent after me and I know my father wants me alive there’s no way you’re gunna kill me if you want the credits,”

“Lower your weapon,” He commanded. I refused.

I kept it steadfast. I could do a standoff, all day. I was not going back home. The mandalorian sighed and shot once, barely missing my head, as a warning. I didn’t flinch.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Tin Man. Asker must have said I don’t come easy,” I jeered, taunting him. He couldn’t kill me! Wouldn’t risk half a million credits on that. The mandalorian stepped forward, and I took two steps back. “I just want to get off this planet, I’ll pay you. More than you’ll

get for bringing me in,”

Before I could say anymore, the Mandlorian fired a dart into my chest. I looked down at it for a moment, then back at him then fell to the ground. Black.

I came too sometime later, handcuffed to the side of the Mandalorian’s ship. My hands and feet here tied. It was quiet. Looking around me, I was in the hold. A small ladder disappeared above me to the rest of the ship. I had no idea where we were, had he taken my request? Or was I on my way back to the hell hole that is my home planet.

I had to find some way out. Someway to get myself free. I tried to move to reach a tool box so cruelly just out of my reach, but it was no use. Then I heard a little squeal from behind a box. I turned to see where it was coming from but there was nothing. Again, another squeal and a giggle? Was it a rat? I wouldn’t be surprised if there were rats aboard, the place hadn’t been cleaned in forever. But rats don’t giggle, no matter where they’re from.

Suddenly, a tiny green creature popped up from behind the box. It peered at me for a moment, then hid again. It was so cute!

“Hey little buddy,” I said quietly, “I won’t hurt you,” The creature slowly stepped out and babbled something at me. I didn’t understand what it said, even if it was speaking any proper language. “Where’d you come from buddy? He got you trapped here too?” The baby giggled and waddled over to me. I smiled and curled my legs round underneath me to let it get a bit closer. I didn’t see any danger in a creature so small. “Why does Mandalorian have a little baby? You’re not his kid are you?”

“Hey! Get away from her,” The Mandalorian had appeared in the hold while I was focused on the baby. The baby babbled and toddled back happily to the Mandalorian.

“What is that?”

“Nothing,”

“It’s not nothing, it’s a baby,” Suddenly I remembered I had seen a drawing of a creature like that one before. My uncle told me about it, a Jedi master or something. “Do you know what it is? My uncle showed me a picture of one of those once, it was a jedi! I bet it can do weird stuff, right? Where did you get it?”

The Mandalorian ignore my questions and picked up the creature, walked across to the other side of the hold and put it away in a large cupboard. Cruel. I became spiteful.

“Fine, ignore me then. I’ll just report you to the Guild when I get back home. Tell them you have that thing! People would pay good money for information on a Mandalorian gone rogue! And to think Mandalorian and Jedi were enemies for years, didn’t they murder your kind to near extinction? Seems weird you’ve got one in a box as a pet,”

“It’s not a Jedi, and you won’t tell anyone. If I find you have, I will kill you, on sight,”

“You’ll be doing me a favour,” I spat.

I could tell he was angry, the way his hand waved over his blaster for just a second. I should have been scared of him, deep down I was. But the fate that awaited me at home was worse than being killed by this bounty hunter. I knew we can’t be far now. I didn’t have much time left to convince the Mandalorian not to send me back to my father. If it came down to it I really would rather die.

The Mandalorian disappeared up the ladder once more, satisfied that I wasn’t going to cause anymore fuss right now. Before I could even call after him to try and make amends and get him to actually help me, the hatch slammed shut and it was too late.

---

A few hours later, I had dozed off but was harshly awoke by the Mandalorian shaking my shoulders.

“We’re here,” He stated, pulling me up by the shoulder. I shrugged him off, and stood up on my own. My feet had been untied already, I rolled my ankles and sighed as my body clicked. The bounty hunter wasn’t having it, grabbed my arm harshly and dragged me down the ramp to the ground. “Come on,”

The site of my home planet made me sick. It was happening. For months I had managed to be unknown, successfully getting away from this place. But I was now being dragged back, by a Mandalorian none the less, to be dragged through my city like a criminal.

The Child reappeared as we stepped off the ship, babbling quickly and waddling as fast as it could. The Mandalorian grumbled unintelligibly and dragged me back up, collected the child and locked it away, pulled me back down to the soil of the planet. I could hear the creature complain from its little box and wondered if it was trying to help me. Whatever it wanted, the Mandalorian ignored it, closed the cargo door and we walked into the city gates to my family's palace.

The site of the grand building made me sick. When I was younger I didn’t know of anything different, I didn’t know of the suffering of the people beyond the city walls. The people who worked tirelessly everyday on the lush fields only to be paid single credits for the hard labour, and all the food going to my family and court. I never knew of the suffering and poverty that my father ruled over while we lived such lavish lives inside. I had tried to explain it to my brothers after my first escape attempt, they just laughed. Said that that was just the way the world worked. There was a set order. I hated it, actively spoke out against them but all it did was get me slapped and set away to my chambers.

We were met by my father and two brothers in the great hall. Staff stood to attention around the perimeter, glaring at me like I was dirt, as I was dragged in in disgrace by a bounty hunter.

“My daughter, you’re safe!” My father exclaimed, throwing his arms up in praise. There was no kindness or love in his voice. “Get her inside, we can’t have her escape again,” He gave a cold laugh as I was given to a new set of guards. My brothers jeered and laughed in unison with their idol. “I understand you’ve been paid by Asker to do this?” My father addressed the Mandalorian now. “Fucking idiot couldn’t catch his own breath. Here,” He threw a large bag of credits at the bounty hunter. “A million in full.” The Mandalorian nodded, putting the bag into his belt. “You don’t know how great a service you have provided to the galaxy,” My father continued with a wicked smile stretched across his wrinkling face. “A girl like her will surely be the mother of our new empire,”

I nearly threw up, the enormity of my situation now crashing on top of me. I tried to look to the Mandalorian for help but again it was no use. I was marched off into my new, secure, chambers to await my fate.

The Mandalorian frowned beneath his helmet but said nothing whilst in the presence of the King. He’d finished the job, there was nothing else for him to do here. He’d never got involved in politics before and now was not the time. He knew these were not good people but he was not in a place for judgement either.

He returned to his ship, pleased with the doubling of the earnings from this trip. That amount of credits meant he could lay low for a long while with the Child and finally work out what to do with it.

Back in the ship, the Child would not settle down. In the few months the Mandalorian had the creature he had never seen it like this. It cried and grumbled, wouldn’t sit still or fall asleep. He knew what the problem was.

“I can’t do anything about it!” He explained to the Child. “It’s not my problem. The credits I got from that job will keep you in food for weeks!” The Child grumbled and wailed. “Go to sleep,”

-- 4 Months Later --

It was a simple quarry for a quick bit of cash. The ship needed to be patched up after it had run into an asteroid field. The quarry was from a jealous man on Corellia after his wife’s lover. Easy.

The planet was rich and bustling with people, making the Mandalorian disappear into the background. He swept through the city in search of his bounty, following the tracker in his hand. He was only slowed down by a large crowd which had gathered at the town’s centre. A small stage was set up across the square, with many people surrounding it on all sides. People even hung out of their windows to listen and watch what was going on.

A familiar face on the stage caught the Mandalorian’s attention. It was Y/n. Now looking like the shell of her previous self. A black cloth covered her head and moth, leaving only sunken sad eyes on show which were covered in gold makeup. She stood smaller, next to a man talking passionately and animatedly about something. The surrounding chatter from the town’s people drowned out what the man was saying.

The Mandalorian carried on on his mission, shaking off any guilt he had. Bad things like this were always happening throughout the galaxy. There was nothing he could do.

- --

My new life as Vinca Dara’s wife was awful. Far worse than I had ever dreamt.

I was dragged from planet to planet, city to city trying to recruit and inspire rebellion. We travelled to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, as far from the New Republic as possible to try and gain sympathy for a new regime.

I was miserable, abused and exhausted. My husband’s forcible attempts at producing an heir were proving futile and he was getting restless. It was like my body even rejected the idea of giving him a child. I figured it was only long before he killed me. He’d been close before when I lost the last child.

This was a big event. There were already a large group of rebellion supporters on the planet and Vinca Dara and his team were hopeful. I was to stand next to him, looking pretty while he addressed the city, then be his arm candy to a private event with the planet’s leaders.

The evening’s event was filled with the planet’s most horrible people. I wore a tight royal blue dress, my hair down and flowing over my bare back. Vinca Dara had left me to my own devices a little while ago, instructing me to convince some of the ladies of ‘our’ new ideas for the galaxy. So I stood and mingled with the guests wive. They were not interested in politics and rather talked back local gossip which was rather refreshing after months of nothing but plans of death, destruction of the New Republic. A little alarming that they did not care, but I welcomed the break nonetheless.

As I listened to the women, my eyes wandered around the party. Many different species and races all in one room with staff waiting hand and foot, scurrying between the clusters of people. Then, something caught my eye. A flash of blue baskar, glinted in the light from the corridor just outside the room. That had to be the Mandalorian! I thought I had seen him in the city but I thought I was imagining it. He was here!

“Excuse me ladies, I just need to freshen up,” I excused myself from the group and went to find him. This was my chance. Summoning all the courage I had in me, I followed him.

It took a moment to work out which way he went but a sharp shot from inside one of the servants quarters told me exactly where it was. He was lucky the party was so loud, I thought.

Checking nobody was following me, I carefully pushed the door open As soon as I entered the small dark room the Mandalorian held his gun to my face, finger on the trigger ready. I threw up my hands and pushed myself back against the door.

“Don’t shoot!” I exclaimed. The Mandalorian did not lower his gun.

“What are you doing here?”

“I-I’m hosting the par-,”

“Here, I mean here right now,” He interrupted, obviously agitated.

“I need your help,” I said honestly. The Mandalorian didn’t reply, but lowered his gun and returned to the dead body on the floor. “Please. My husband will kill me if he doesn’t get a child soon and… and I can’t do it. Please, I need to get off this planet. Away from him,”

“I’m working,”

“I’ll pay you!” I exclaimed desperately. “I’ll give you everything I have. I just need to get out of here, out of this solar system,” The Mandalorian stopped and looked at me for a moment, the helmet completely unforgiving in guarding his expression. “Please,” My bottom lip began to tremble and tears welled in my eyes.

“No. Go back to your husband,” The Mandalorian turned back to his task. My desperation turned to anger in that moment, I stormed over to him.

“You know he’s been looking for the Child,” I said spitefully, looming over him as he knelt down with his victim. The Mandalorian looked up at me and stood up slowly. “That green thing you keep as a pet? If you won’t help meI will go to him and tell him you have it, that you’re on this planet,”

“Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Help me and Dara will never know,” I said slowly, staring directly into his visor.

The Mandalorian was quiet for a moment, I held my breath. This was it. My last chance at freedom and even this was the man that brought me to be in this situation in the first place he was my only hope.

“Put that on,” He finally said, gesturing to the pile of servants' clothes piled on a table to the side of the room. “And help me move this body”

I nodded quickly and moved to the clothes. I untied the neck of the dress, the bounty hunter respectfully turned back to his victim as I undressed. The clothes were far too big and made of a very itchy material but I didn’t have much choice. I tied my hair up in a ponytail. The only reminder of who I was, was the gold makeup across my face and sandals on my feet.

I stood on look out while the Mandalorian pulled his bounty into a bag and dragged it out the building. A transporter waited outside.

“Take that one, with the bounty. My ship is out on the east fields. You’ll see it,”

“What about you?”

“I’ll meet you there,”

I nodded, unsure of why he was trusting me with his bounty but it was the easiest way to go out of the city unnoticed. I dodged in and out of people on the streets, finally coming to the East gates. Two guards sat asleep at the post and didn’t even wake to see me go. As I rode out into the open land, I began to laugh. The suns were setting beautifully over the horizon casting beautiful colours into the sky. I was free!

I sped through the fields, towards the familiar ship a little way away. The noise another transporter hummed behind me. I figured it was the Mandalorian so I didn't bother to look back until a red shot flew past my head, narrowly missing me, and exploding in the grass. I screamed and swerved violently, nearly losing all control of the vehicle.

I turned back quickly, to see who was attacking me. My husband led a band of four guards on smaller bikes. That bastard Mandalorian must have told them I was trying to escape!

I sped up, racing towards the hills in the distance. I skipped down between ditches and ploughed through crop fields to try and evade capture once again. They remained on my tail.

Another two shots fired out, missing me again. “Stop! Y/n! Stop right now!” My husband called out. I held my hand up in an offensive gesture, turning back to narrowly miss a large boulder. I was getting into the forest now, it was becoming more difficult to maneuver the heavy vehicle through the trees.

The trees became denser and I decided I could move better on foot without the extra weight.

“I’m going to fucking kill you Y/n!” My husband screamed. I could imagine his horrid sweaty red face, that awful vein that pops on his forehead when he’s angry. I shuddered, and kept running.

I jumped into a small creek, the water soaking the ends of my trousers and nearly bare feet. The hum of the transporters had disappeared, they were on foot. I noticed a cave and decided it would be best to hide there while they were some way behind. I crouched down and sat in the warm water, my body pressed against the back wall, hidden from sight.

“Y/n!” Vinca Dara screamed again. This time multiple shots followed and a crash as something fell into the water. “You can’t hide forever!”

They were getting closer. A red shot splashed into the water in front of the mouth of the cave. I jumped and hit my head on the low roof, making me yelp. I clamped my hand over my mouth praying that I wasn’t heard. I pushed myself further into the dark and shut my eyes as more shots rang out. Shouting erupted from above me and heavy footsteps splashed through the water.

I whimpered and curled up into my knees, screwing my eyes shut, waiting for the end to come.

“I told you to go to the ship,” A metallic voice said from the front of the cave. I opened my eyes and gasped in relief. It was the Mandalorian! I pushed myself up out of the water and walked over to him, my relief turning into rage.

“You sold me out!” I screamed, pushing him as hard as I could. “You fucking told them!” The bounty hunter remained calm, and was not at all affected by my attack.. “You fucking bastard!”

“If I did, why would I be here now?”

“You-,” I stopped and saw the three bodies floating in the water around us, “You killed them?”

“I thought you still had my bounty,” The Mandalorian said nonchalantly. I smiled.

“Thank you,”

Seemingly satisfied that I wasn’t in any more danger, the Mandalorian turned and began to walk back to his ship. I quickly followed behind, not wanting to be left behind again. I stepped over my husband’s dead body, pleased by the multiple shot wounds that had killed him. He deserved a bloody death. I ran to keep up with the Mandalorian, and jumped back on the abandoned transporter, following him back to the safety of his ship,

“Thank you again. And I promise I will send those credits to you as soon as possible,” I thanked him again once we were inside. I sat on a crate, and pulled the ruined sandals off my feet.

“It’s not necessary,” The Mandalorian said, his back turned to me as he put away his weapons.

“Yes it is. I am a woman of my word, I owe you my life,” I said sincerely. The Mandalorian shut the cabinet and turned back to me.

“Where would you like to go?”

“I don’t care. Just drop me off wherever you are going next. As long as there's opportunity for work and a place to sleep I will be fine. I just need to be as far from all of that as possible,”

“I’m going to Nevarro next,”

“Sounds perfect,”

I sat in the back of the cockpit while the Mandalorian flew off the planet. I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face as the planet soon disappeared into the vast black of space behind us. I had finally made it out, with both my father and husband dead I knew no one would come looking for me. I was truly free.

“Hello again,” I cooed to the Child as he toddled over. The baby babbled and giggled when it recognised me and raised its arms to be picked up. I happily obliged. “You’ve grown! Yes! Oh aren’t you just the cutest little thing!” I tickled its large ears, making the child laugh. “I don’t know how you get anything done with this thing around. He’s so cute!” I said to the Mandalorian. He didn’t reply.

I shrugged it off, and went back to playing with the baby. The stress of the day finally settled in, and I yawned, absolutely exhausted. The little creature in my lap, copied and babbled at me. I smiled softly as sleep began to take over me and stroked its little head until I fell asleep.

A rumble awoke me, we had entered the Nevarro atmosphere. I sat up from my slumped position and sighed as I stretched. The Mandalorian turned around, I smiled and he turned back. The Child was sitting on the desk, playing with a silver ball too busy to notice I was now awake.

We landed without any trouble.

“So I guess this is it,” I said. “I will forever be indebted to you Mandalorian,” I bowed my head in reverence, “Are you staying here very long?”

“A few days possibly,” He said as we walked towards the small settlement. “I’ve got some business here,” We walked in silence for the rest of the way until we reached the gates. “There’s a cantina not too far from here, tell them I sent you and they’ll give you work. There’s plenty of rooms to stay in here,”

“Thank you,” I smiled, “I will sort those credits out as soon as possible,”

“It-,”

“I swear bounty hunters don’t usually refuse money,” I laughed. “Take it, and I’ll see you around, hopefully not too soon,”

“See you around,”

We shook hands and parted ways. My life had finally begun.

#mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian x you #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #x reader #x y/n #star wars fan fiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fandom #star wars #baby yoda #fanfiction

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last-wish · 3 years

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Feainnewedd: Chapter 7

Summary: Geralt and Ciri leave Kaer Morhen and set out for the Temple of Melitele. On her journey there, Yennefer returns to a key place from her past where a new war is brewing.

Pairing: Geralt x Yennefer

Word Count: 4,1k

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Cross posted to AO3. Special thanks to @ohrackham for all her help.

The Blue Mountains loomed like silent giants over Kaer Morhen. Ciri huddled inside her fur coat, trying to keep the cold out. Despite spending all winter in the witchers keep, every time she climbed to the top of the walls, she felt the stinging wind in her bones like the first time. She sighed. Gazing down the valley, a glinting line revealed the course of the Gwenllech river, swollen by the snow melt. Soon she would be following the river southwards. Away from Kaer Morhen, from Vesemir, Eskel, Coën and Lambert, from the safety of the Blue Mountains. And back towards the South.

The mere thought brought back an old sense of unease, the urge to sharpen her hearing, to look for anything suspicious around her. Everyone is looking for you. You can hide for a while, but how are you ever going to feel safe when they all want you? Your name, your claim to the throne of a forsaken kingdom, your blood. You can’t escape.

She clasped the battlement in front of her and recalled Calanthe’s words from her deathbed. As in life, it is impossible always to be fully prepared for battle. Keep your sword close and keep moving. Her ragged breaths slowly evened out. Footsteps sounded behind her and she turned like a cornered beast.

“Hey,” Geralt said, “it’s just me. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just… thinking about the journey. It feels strange, going back South after everything.”

The witcher put his arm around her shoulders and stood beside her in silence for a while, staring into the distance. “I remember the first time I left Kaer Morhen. I was just as nervous as you.” The witcher smiled. “Vesemir took Eskel and me down the river to look for work. And we found some—a villager tormented by a curse. He claimed that every night someone knocked on his door. The ghost of his brother, who had frozen to death in the snow the previous winter.”

“Oh. What did you do?”

“Well, Vesemir said we had to do everything for ourselves. So Eskel and I stayed at the house that night, waiting for the knock. Eskel was sure it wasn’t a ghost, probably just some drunkard or the villager’s imagination. But then, in the middle of the night, we heard it, loud and clear. We rushed to the door, busted it open and saw no one. We did find a strange trail near the door and followed it to the village cemetery.”

“You must have been terrified,” Ciri said.

“Oh, we were,” Geralt chuckled. “It was so quiet. We got to the center of the cemetery when we heard footsteps around us. We stood back to back, ready to kill and die. And then—” Geralt snapped his fingers into the Igni sign and a small flame flickered before his face. “Light. A bunch of older apprentices around us, howling with laughter.”

Ciri shook her head slowly. “Uncle Vesemir? Really?”

“Well, every witcher of the School of the Wolf must pass it. It’s an ancient ritual of Kaer Morhen.”

“You’re all just… ridiculous.” Ciri burst out laughing.

Geralt smiled and leaned on the parapet. Ciri noticed then that the witcher was holding something behind his back.

“What’s that?”

Geralt slowly revealed it—a sword, sheathed in a simple leather scabbard. The witcher offered her the hilt and the girl seized it immediately, the warmth of its grip inviting her hand. She unsheathed the sword and the slender blade glinted in the morning sun. Astonished at its lightness, the girl turned and swung it. After training for so long with heavy wooden swords, wielding this blade in her hand she felt she could fly off the battlements of the old keep. She cut the morning mist again and again, slashing the throats and piercing the hearts of the fiends that inhabited her nightmares.

She stopped to catch her breath and when she turned, Geralt was smiling at her.

“Does it feel good in your hand?” He asked.

Ciri nodded and giggled while she sheathed the sword.

“It belonged to a witcher that trained here a long time ago. Vesemir adjusted it for your weight and height and I sharpened it.”

The witcher girl jumped at Geralt and hugged him tightly. After a moment of surprise, the witcher hugged her back.

“You know,” Geralt said when they separated, “you’ve learned here how to defend yourself. You have that potential in your hand now. This blade is light and sharp, it will want to leave its cage and bite. But keep this in your head—once you unsheathe it, there’s no coming back. That will always be the hardest decision you’ll have to make.”

“Is that why you have that golden brooch on yours?”

“How do you—” The witcher shook his head.

“I saw it in a dream. You were holding a woman bleeding out on the street. She had that same brooch.”

Geralt looked over the wall, his face like stone. “She was called Renfri and she... she was a princess like you. And yes, that’s why I have her brooch in my sword.”

He didn’t look eager to talk about it and Ciri didn’t press him. Instead, she approached him and looked at the abyss below them. “I hate leaving people behind. I had to leave my grandmother in Cintra, then the dryads in Brokilon and Dara after that. Now I have to leave Vesemir, Eskel, Coën and Lambert. I’m so tired of it, Geralt. Will it always be like this?”

The witcher put his arms around her shoulders and looked her in the eye.

“I will always be with you.”

***

“Alright lady, your papers are in order. You can go.”

Yennefer mounted on her black horse and crossed the bridge over the swollen Pontar river, leaving behind a throng of merchants and peasants trying to pass through the customs post. After just a few steps of her horse on Redanian soil, the sorceress stopped abruptly. On the other side of the river, the forests of Temeria extended to the horizon. Among the sea of green, the road she had followed before approaching the bridge waited patiently for her return. Stop overthinking. This won’t take long and I have more than enough time.

After setting the meeting in the Temple of Melitele via megascope, Yennefer had decided to avoid any unnecessary risk. Bidding farewell to Tissaia as she returned to her diplomatic missions through the Northern royal courts, she had headed to the Academy of Aretuza to spend the winter. Helping her friend Rita in her new role as Rectoress had been a much-needed distraction from her worries, but, as soon as the roads thawed, she had set out in secret to the Duchy of Ellander. The Northern roads that waited for Geralt and Ciri would take longer to reappear under the molten ice, giving her time for a short detour to the other side of the Pontar.

Almost there. The place where the spark of a single decision started an all-consuming fire. But even so, a tainted spark, one that contained the doom of its own product. Could an impure creation be saved from itself? Was it worth the effort? Many lives ago, she had asked herself the same questions. Her own answer at that time was marked forever on her wrists.

She reached the top of the hill and the city walls rose before her. Red standards hung from the guard towers of the southern gate. The white eagle of Redania flapped its wings as if getting ready to take flight. The sorceress wondered again if she should do the same and turn back to Ellander.

Almost ten years already, Yennefer thought as she walked the bustling streets of Rinde. The city was an awkward combination of worn-out but still recognizable places and new additions that sticked out like a fresh, nasty scar on a familiar face. The air carried the events of past months in its smell of clay and mortar. The proud local nobles strove to repair the landmarks, but the rebellion of the Redanian peasants had left an unmistakable mark upon it.

The sudden clatter of hooves on cobblestone startled her. A group of riders dismounted before a nearby building, bringing three wounded soldiers with them. At once, a lanky man emerged from the building and guided the troop inside. The last soldier stopped before him, his face twisted with rage and contempt. The tall man raised his hands in appeasement, only to find a blade over his throat. Yennefer rushed towards them. Before she got there, the enraged soldier spat on the ground and left. Sighing with resignation, the man was about to go back inside when he saw the sorceress. From up close, his light blue eyes and pointed ears left no doubt.

“Chireadan!”

“Yennefer! What are you doing here?”

“I was just passing by and I thought—” Shouts from inside interrupted her.

The elf clenched his jaw. “Sorry, I have to go. We can talk later.”

“Can I help you?”

The healer’s eyes shone. “In fact, you can. Come, quick.”

Before they got to the end of the hallway, they bumped into the soldiers leaving the main room.

“Get this into your skull, elf,” one of them said, his finger an inch before Chireadan’s face. “We tried every sawbones in this city before we brought ‘em here. Guess what? None has any room left thanks to your traitor kind. You better slog your guts out mending our wounded because you see my boys?” He grinned. “They are just waiting for an excuse to expand our collection of nonhuman scum hung at the square.”

“Are you suggesting Chireadan would let a patient die?” Yennefer asked. The soldier stared at the sorceress with a mix of surprise, confusion and restrained anger. After a moment of quiet tension, the soldier made a gesture and his companions followed him outside.

“Thank you,” Chireadan said when they closed the door behind them, letting out a long sigh. “Few people in Rinde would dare to defy the sorceress that almost destroyed the city. Or so the stories say.”

“Stories from a time when all the city respected you and sought your services. What happened?”

“It’s been some rough years, Yennefer. Today’s Rinde has little in common with the one you left a decade ago. First, the peasants rose up in rebellion, and now…” He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. A slight wince highlighted fine wrinkles all over his face, betraying a pain that ran deep beneath. Somehow, this elf seemed to have visibly aged in just a decade—an absolute absurdity. “It started shortly after the war with Nilfgaard. Just whispers among elves in the beginning. Then leaflets calling for revolt appeared in the nonhuman district and the attacks on the roads started not long after.”

“Elven rebels here, too?” Yennefer asked. Chireadan frowned. “I’ve encountered them in Sodden and Temeria,” the sorceress clarified.

“Then the saying is true, misfortunes never come alone. I truly thought it was just a Redanian matter. Mobs started lynching elves and dwarves during the peasant rebellion and the youngest among us needed just a spark to take up arms. I guess things weren’t better in the rest of the Continent. Anyway, come with me, I must tend to the wounded.”

Yennefer followed Chireadan to a large room where the three injured soldiers laid among others. A nauseating stink of sweat and blood assailed her. Chireadan wrinkled his nose while he examined the rushed bandages on an unconscious soldier’s arm. “It’s a miracle this one’s not bled out. We have to change the dressing, bring me the cloth over there.”

“What’s their goal?” Yennefer said as she handed him the rags.

“The Scoia’tael’s?” The elf raised his gaze from the soldier. “That’s how they call themselves, because of the squirrel tails they wear. Well, they demand the liberation of the nonhuman prisoners, the end of the racial laws and the privileges by birthright.”

“Here, in Redania? The nobles will never accept it. They’d have Vizimir’s head on a spike if they suspected him of bargaining with those chips on the table.”

“I’m aware,” Chireadan said sharply. “It’s hard not to notice with every mutilated soldier that finds his way here. This war won’t end with a treaty. Is this the reason you’re here?”

“Oh, no. It’s more of a… personal reason.”

Before she could continue, one of the wounded moaned and squirmed, and the healer rushed to his side.

“I must—” He struggled. “I must warn them.”

“Of what?” Chireadan asked.

The soldier twisted and screamed. “You fucking squirrel, let me out!”

Yennefer approached the man. “We’re in Rinde. You’re safe. Chireadan is just trying to treat your wounds.”

“There’s no time for that, take me to the barracks now.”

“Soldier,” said Yennefer. “What’s your name?”

He stared at her. “Caspar.”

“You are in no condition to go anywhere, Caspar. I can take a message if that’s what you want.”

“Not with him here,” Caspar said through gritted teeth, looking at Chireadan. The elf threw up his hands and crossed the room to attend another patient.

“Well?” Yennefer asked.

“I heard two squirrels talk before they stabbed me. They’re breaking camp. They’re leaving Redania.”

“Great news, then. Where’s the urgency in that message?”

“They’re going to join the squirrels from Kaedwen. Don’t you understand? These commandos are giving us hell. If they join forces—” The man shook and moaned, his breaths turned to rasps.

“I see. But what can you do about it?”

The wounded soldier rose slightly, drawing closer to Yennefer, his voice a whisper. “The Murivel pass. They’ll cross the Kestrel Mountains there, towards Kaedwen. An ambush there… We’ll get them all.” Caspar’s smile was interrupted by a coughing fit. Yennefer turned away as Chireadan rushed to the dying man. The sorceress wiped her hand across her face. It was covered in blood.

“Bloede pest!” Chireadan screamed, trying to turn Caspar over. The cough stopped after an endless moment. The soldier’s lifeless eyes were fixed on the ceiling. An ominous laugh made Yennefer’s skin crawl.

“You’re done, elf,” one of the wounded grunted. “Maybe I’m too. But I’ll die with a smile knowing your body will hang soon on the square. Then they’ll get the rest of your own and you’ll all understand that Redania is no place for murdering scum like you.”

Chireadan stooped over the corpse, grabbing the bed with both hands, his knuckles white.

Yennefer approached him. “Chireadan…”

He stormed out of the room. She followed him.

“Chireadan!”

“Don’t you see it? I have no way out!” His hands trembled. “Those soldiers were just looking for an excuse to arrest me, it doesn’t matter what we tell them. What’s left for me, join the rebels and die with a blade in my hand? By the Mother, my job is mending bodies, not maiming them!”

“Maybe there is another way. If the Scoia’tael are fleeing to Kaedwen, perhaps they can help you escape Redania, start a new life there.”

The elf laughed bitterly. “A new life among humans in Kaedwen, another kingdom besieged by rebel commandos. How do you think they’ll treat me there? Not just an elf but an outsider.”

“Then join them. You’ve healed wounded for one side, why not for the other?”

“I must be feverish too if I’m hearing the hero of the Hill, savior of the Northern Kingdoms, urging me to enlist with the rebels trying to topple them.”

“Urging you to save your neck, Chireadan. Do you think I fought on the Hill for this? For injustice, crushing the different, the pogroms? No. I fought for the people I care about. And I intend to keep on doing it. If there is truth to what that soldier said, we are the only ones who know about the Scoia’tael plans. You still have time to reach them and get out of Redania.”

The healer stared at her, a storm raging behind his eyes. He let out a long sigh. “I’ll get my things. As for my patients… I’ll go warn my assistant.”

“You’ve done far more for them than they would have done in your place.”

He nodded. “You won’t be safe here either, those soldiers saw you with me. The river is our best bet. I have a friend who can get us across.”

“Then I’ll see you on the docks at midnight,” the sorceress said. “I must do something first.”

***

“This is a good spot,” the witcher said. “Here, give me the reins.”

Ciri dismounted her mare. As soon as her feet touched the mossy forest floor, pain shot through her legs and she fell pathetically to the ground.

“Shit!” She winced and moaned.

“All winter without riding a horse,” Geralt chuckled. “It’s only normal you get leg cramps now.”

“Normal?” She massaged her worn out legs. “Does riding all day sound normal to you? The sun is almost set.”

“Then get up and help me. This is the only light we’re getting tonight—no fires. We’re still close to the fort and I don’t want to alert any patrols.“

Ciri got to her feet and relieved her exhausted mare from the weight of her saddlebags. After rummaging a bit, she took some food and sat on the ground next to Geralt, her back resting on a thick tree. She took a deep breath. The air carried the scents of earth, damp moss and flowers in bloom. The forests of Kaedwen were beautiful in the spring. Ciri’s stomach rumbled and she started munching on the lamb pie she had bought in a village that morning.

“You better get your fill of food and rest tonight,” Geralt said. “We have another long day before us.”

“Oh, come on,” Ciri protested, her voice muffled by the pie. “First you leave Triss behind and now you want to ride all day.”

“Triss was too sick to continue and you know Eskel is taking care of her. We just need to get some distance between Fort Leyda and us. The road will be much calmer after—”

Leaves rustled suddenly somewhere nearby. Geralt's eyes narrowed.

“What was that?” Ciri asked.

“A deer. We must have scared it. Or something else did.” The witcher stood in silence for a while, eyes alert and his sword nearby. After a while, he slowly relaxed.

“I wish I had a bow,” Ciri said. “We could eat some fresh meat tonight.”

“A bow is no weapon for a witcher.”

“You witchers are so boring. I should have stayed in Brokilon, the dryads would have taught me how to shoot a bow.”

Geralt laughed. “Dryads do not hunt forest animals. I don’t know how Eithné could have put up with you.”

Ciri smiled. “You never told me how you met her. When was it, a thousand years ago?”

“Not quite that long. But I was still a young witcher, sent on a contract by the King of Verden...”

Ciri’s eyes closed as night fell over the forest and Geralt’s voice slowly drifted to the realm of dreams.

***

The sun had disappeared beneath the horizon when Yennefer reached Rinde’s main square. Not even a ray of moonlight cut through the overcast sky, and only torches and lamps hanging from the balconies provided some light in the dark. Not that there was much to light up. A couple of guards leaned on their halberds before the mayor’s house. On the opposite side of the square, a bunch of drunks broke the night silence with their songs and shouts. Between the two groups, the corpses of two elves and a dwarf swayed softly, hanging from the gallows at the center of the square.

The sorceress stood on one of the side entrances to the square. The thought of stepping into it felt wrong, as if the impossible peace of that place would snap like a taut rope with no hope of mending it. Her resolution hardened—despite her sacrifices for the Northern kingdoms, despite the friends fallen in battle, she would never help tighten the chains of injustice.

Under the faint light of the torches, the mayor’s house looked as ten years back, but an attentive look on the right place unveiled the truth. The top of the house had been rebuilt in an austere style after a djinn had collapsed the previous one. Yennefer felt a strange relief as she realized she was not the only one marked by the events of that day. But could she restore what had fallen time and again during those ten years? Was it not a doomed effort, trying to build on a cursed foundation that had never withstood for a long time? Each breakup with the witcher had inflicted a deeper, more painful wound than the last. And now he had embraced a new life, taking care of the princess of Cintra. Was there a place in his life for her? Was it worth casting her shield aside, show herself as she was, maybe even taste the sweet fruit of affection just to be abandoned again? You already know what will happen, an old cruel voice whispered in her ear. No one will ever love you.

The world spun around her—screaming drunkards, crackling flames, dancing corpses on the gallows. She leaned on the wall of the entrance arch. The smoke from the torches scratched her throat and slowly choked her. She felt her own insignificance again, stuck into her heart like a sharp dagger. A shiver ran down her spine as the clouds above her opened, the moon emerging from behind them. She was naked against the silver light, no shield able to protect her. Yennefer stopped fighting and tasted salt on her lips. Her limp body trembled against cold stone.

The desire to flee invaded her. To flee far from the city, from the war brewing within, from kings, rebels and assassins to a shelter against this ravenous cold. Inside a tent standing bravely on a cruel mountain, beside braziers that warmed her skin. A smile against hers, a drowsy, sincere voice uttering a confession she clung onto, each word a rope she would never release. You’re important to me.

Yennefer rose. She had lost track of time, but the moon was still above her among the clouds, lighting the now quiet square. Her footsteps broke the silence as she walked towards the docks, where Chireadan and her embarked on an old weathered boat, never to return.

Crows cawed in the night. The clouds flared red as if the sun was about to break through, and the scents of the blooming spring had turned into a burning smoke. Cintra was falling. The bird of prey would take her soon, as it did almost every night. But the face looming over her was not the one she expected.

“Ciri, get up!” His hoarse voice could hardly belong to the same person that had told her old stories of Brokilon just a while ago, but Geralt’s eyes were full of worry and Ciri did as he said. “Fort Leyda is burning, we have to get out of here.”

“War again.” Ciri’s voice broke. “But we’re so far North, how could it reach us so fast?”

“This can’t be Nilfgaard. Must be bandits. There’s no time, get your things and—”

A whistle cut through the air, ending abruptly as a thud on the tree behind Geralt. The arrow was just a few inches above his head.

“Glaeddyv vort, dh’oine!” A raspy voice rumbled in the dark of the forest. Geralt stood silent. “Do you not understand? Drop the sword, human, or my next arrow will pierce your neck!”

The witcher’s hand gripped his sheathed sword, where Renfri’s golden brooch glinted against the fiery sky. “Essea neén dh’oine,” Geralt said curtly.

Ciri recalled her Elder Speech lessons with Triss back in Kaer Morhen. I am no human. The witcher’s eyes burned bright. Ciri had no idea how many attackers surrounded them, but she knew Geralt could see in the dark far better than her. His thumb pressed against the brooch on the sword’s crossguard. What would he do? Ciri’s sword was by her saddlebag, too far for her to reach before an arrow found her.

A woman emerged suddenly from the trees in front of them, her footsteps so light that Ciri didn’t hear her coming. She held a short bow with a strange shape, bowstring drawn near her pointed ear. Her green clothes were splattered in blood.

“Gwynbleidd?”

“Toruviel?”

#the witcher netflix #geralt x yennefer #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla of cintra #fanfiction #the witcher

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raleigh-ocean · 4 years

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where does my heart belong (you know it, right?) | billie dean howard x dara ann lynch

words: 3,608

summary: sometimes Billie wished for Dara to know that she became all that she didn’t know she needed so bad, how much she loved every second of that realization. And that also meant that Billie had room not only for improvement, but to get a little bit extra along the way.

Billie’s laugh sounded muffled against Dara’s chest, coming out with a content sigh all along that made the younger woman to giggle ever so soft in response, fingers brushing back silky blonde hair.

“Please, tell me we didn’t do it just becau-”

“Of course not,” Billie pressed her lips in the tiny crook between Dara’s collarbones. “We did it because we wanted,” two kisses a bit lower, over the swell of her breasts. “Because you looked stunning in that dress; because all I wanted was to be by your side, as close as possible,” another kiss in Dara’s throat, along another content hum. “And because we know how to have sex without the rest knowing, which makes us the best team,” Billie moved slightly to the left, taking good care to give Dara a new mark in her favorite spot. “I didn’t need Josephine to push me to do something I was gonna do the same, lovely.”

“God, Billie Dean,” Dara laughed hoarsely at that, leaving a kiss in Billie’s temple before licking her lips and waiting for the big kiss Billie was going to give her. She didn’t sound upset, just not surprised. “Tell me at least we won some money.”

“How dare you miss Lynch, suggest we just didn’t? Do you think my sister actually convinced my brother-in-law to do something so unholy under my parents’ roof?” Dara shrugged a bit and Billie actually turned on the night lamp to look at her, cocky smirk swifting to one of curiosity. “Annie.”

“I mean, Steve showed up without tie to this year’s dinner,” Dara laced her hands together over Billie’s back, since the medium was really comfortable resting over her chest. “The next thing could be eating cauliflower or finding them having sex against the bathroom’s sink, who knows.”

It was then when realization hit Billie and, for a fraction of time, Dara could see her curiosity go away to be replaced with a kinda scared expression. Dara used her fingers again to brush back a lock of Billie’s hair behind her ear, as if they weren’t having a stupid conversation, and when she withdrew it Billie took it in hers, kissing her palm with somewhat devotion before going up enough to hover over her and kiss her slow on the lips.

Neither of them could help but moan ever so softly, going deeper with the kiss, Dara’s fingers pressing against Billie’s lower back and Billie biting her lower lip in response.

“You stay here, my queen,” Billie whispered, another well placed peck in Dara’s lips. “I’m going to get some towels to clean us up, okay?”

“Okay,” Dara barely nodded, closing her eyes and sinking in the mattress again, Billie’s warmth and weight gone. “Just please, don’t take your time, I still find unnerving that you have a Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ poster in your ceiling.”

“You have a Selena one in Sacramento,” reminded Billie, pulling up Dara’s basket shorts and then her shirt, dressing a bit in case she encountered someone in the corridor. “And I don’t think any of them are going to disappear any time soon.”

“It’s Diana’s and it’s inside the closet, not looking at us in airplane view,” Billie laughed at that and leant to give Dara a last kiss. “Parents’ and their effort to not let go of stuff.”

When Dara was finally left alone in bed, only covered by the quilt and one foot out of it, she only managed to curl into a ball and sink her face against Billie's pillow to take in the scent. It was comforting, even when both were having a rough time sleeping there, to do such a homey thing...and also get to share an actual bed when they were guests.

Opening one eye, she looked around the room as far as she could, and smiled softly to see that the decorations hadn't been changed for almost the last twenty years, even when Billie moved from her parents' house in Palos Verdes to her apartment in Pasadena when she was twenty-five. It was a bit weird in a good way, like, Dara felt safe there even with the ceiling poster and the terrifying pink of the walls.

Maybe it was because she didn't feel she was suffocating there.

"Sit up, baby," Billie's voice was the only thing that brought Dara back to Earth and she did as she was told while watching her partner dressed with her clothes - big on her - and holding a towel in her hands. "There we go, let me...yeah, that."

Aftercare was always a thing that they did together, helping each other to be faster so they could go back to where they were before, but that time Billie brushed her hands off and did everything on her own while leaving tiny kisses here and there. They didn't talk much, aside a punctual laugh, but Dara thought that having Billie being that...chivalrous and sweet was something she liked too much to let it not happen.

And when Billie took off her clothes again to get in bed by her side, skin to skin and making a gesture for her to cuddle in her arms...just absolutely blew her mind.

“I hate not being able to smoke whenever I want,” Billie sighed after pressing a kiss onto Dara’s forehead. “Withdrawal symptoms are a bitch.”

“Honey, you always have pseudo-withdrawal symptoms when you reduce from four to one even for a single visit,” Dara moved her head a bit to look at Billie.

“I know! It’s madness,” Dara got a brand new kiss, index curled under her chin. “But I can totally do it as long as I can kiss you.”

“Big sappy,” Dara followed the kiss, her own hand resting over Billie’s stomach and rubbing softly her thumb there. “What got you all dripping honey?”

“Christmas, that I finally have a long break from work after five years working my ass off, that Audrey is doing much better, maybe that my mother is going to bake my favourite pie for Christmas lunch tomorrow,” Billie’s fingers brushed Dara’s hair with care and she indulged in the moment, her voice softened. “Maybe that I have you here with me, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers watching over us like the Saints or something...I don’t know what it could be.”

Having Billie telling her all that made Dara to close her eyes and cuddle against her chest better, as if she wanted to not just indulge but to drown in the feeling and the situation. She loved, absolutely and hopelessly loved when Billie went softer than their usual. Was she loving? Of course Billie was loving, in her own weird way. She wasn’t one to dwell deeper in her feelings, but she still got it in her to make what she was feeling be known...most of the time.

Dara wanted to indulge in the little reminder that Billie was enjoying being together.

“I think it’s the pie, totally that,” she mumbled, pressing a kiss to Billie’s neck with love and moving her fingers over her sternum until she was playing to her favourite game: pressing her fingertips over Billie’s chest freckles. “I’ve never seen you more happy than when you eat any kind of sugary thing.”

“That’s why I’m always happy after eating you out?” Billie laughed and wrapped her arms better around Dara, who was coughing because it took her by surprise and her own saliva went down the wrong pipe. “But let me tell you, I don’t miss my mother’s bakeries. Not when I have such a Goddess baking pure ambrosia.”

“My throat hurts too much to actually fight you back,” Dara managed to croak that muffled against Billie’s chest, her voice more hoarse than before, trying to rest and calm her breathing with Billie trying to ease the pain of coughing so violently in a short span of time. “You give me too much credit for a few cookies.”

“A few cookies? What about my birthday’s carrot cake?” Billie helped Dara to sit up so she could drink from the glass of water they carried on purpose hours before. "Or that guayaba sugar rush bar you make every three first of the month? Do I have to bring the brownies to the conversation? You don't want me to bring the brownies up."

"I get it, I get it!" Dara grumbled, her hand going directly to Billie's face to bring her a bit lower and kiss her. That made them accommodate better side by side under the quilt, Billie still kissing her sweet girl when she managed to blindly turn off the night lamp. "One day, my butter cookies are gonna start a war somewhere if they are half good as you say then."

"Oh, now that you bring that up, they kind of did," Billie said while her left hand found its place brushing Dara's hair with care and caressing her cheek softly. "I forgot to tell you, I brought over some to the office the other day because, well, we wouldn't eat them all in two days as much as I wished to," then Billie's hand lowered until she let it rest in Dara's lower back, letting her index draw lightly her dimples there before just pulling her a bit closer. "And it gave us a better plot than 'Troya'."

Dara's curiosity skyrocketed with that, letting Billie talk to her heart content and tell her about how after everyone got over the shyness of taking a harmless cookie, her crew almost fought each other over them. Not only that, they also managed to pull together the make-up artist and Billie's camera man, blossoming love thanks to Benny's being a good guy and sharing the sweetery with Jean.

Billie was really relaxed if she was talking that much, Dara thought while she let out the seventh little variation of 'really?', and she herself as well since she didn't need to cut her story to ask or add something else - aside of her throat being a bitch and making her not want to restrain it more.

There, in the darkness of Billie's old room, they were existing as if any of their problems existed. No powers, no family acting weird, no fame; just the two of them sharing the peacefulness they usually only got at home, where they were always at peace.

"...so yeah, you basically became a Goddess unknowingly by baking some innocent cookies," Billie chuckled at that, her tell-tale coming to an end, as she leant to leave a tiny kiss on the tip of her nose. "How is your throat, doll?"

"Not very goddess-ly like, but we know how I get when nodules attack me, it's just a bit tiring," Dara smiled softly when Billie kissed her lips first and then hugged her better to leave tiny kisses in her neck. "Nothing I can't handle, but I'm getting sleepy."

"We can always go downstairs to get you some honey lemon tea," the tiny 'nu' mumbled against her chest, Dara hiding in her neck, made Billie smile worriedly at her. "Why not? It would help you to get sleepy faster as well as relieve your pain."

"I've been living all my life with nodules, it's not that terrible! And also, do you really want to mess with Santa's schedule, Bills? He's already turning a blind eye because we are adults and can legally stay up after eleven," Dara felt Billie's hand giving her tiny caresses as she was trying not to laugh loudly. "We're pushing the limit and I don't know about you, but I want my present to be there in the morning."

What did Billie do in her life to end up with someone like Dara?

She truly was considering ditching that response and go get some tea to calm her throat, but hearing Dara so adamant about something like that...Billie only sighed and took the glass of water again, handing it to Dara so she could at least have a few more sips to help.

"But I already have my present here, he won't mind me wandering around the kitchen at the wee hours, even less since I’m doing some good," Billie oversaw the way Dara pouted, making her use her index to push her cheek a bit out of habit. “Okay, we stay, we stay…but if it gets worse, you tell me right away.”

“You’ll be the first one, sugar, always,” Dara smiled and kissed Billie, meaning those few words and just enjoying the soft brush of their noses. “I know that we don’t actually think of visiting our parents as...vacation, so where would you want to go? Like...actually none know us, no family around.”

“Good question…” it’s easy to mold their bodies together, legs entangling out of habit and arms draped over the waist. “I want to take you to the beach. Spend the morning there, go back to eat, maybe a nap, go back to the beach until we have to go because it’s getting dark, dinner and talk. Rinse and repeat for a week.”

“I thought you were gonna say Italy or wherever fancy,” Dara mumbled sleepily, her hand finding Billie’s to bring it under the pillow and cuddle it just like that. “You’ve been watching tons of travel programs lately.”

“I do want to take you overseas one day, yes, but first and foremost I want us to have a week of absolutely doing nothing at the beach,” Billie felt her heart swell with love, the one she felt so deeply for Dara, upon imagining that. “Remember when you accompanied me to that mansion in Yosemite? The one with the old lady who swore to me she could see her daughter?” Dara hummed in response, two thousand and twelve a bit foggy in her head thanks to her current state but still there. “We literally spent three days out of five doing nothing. Nothing but drink, nap, play your old Uno and walk around the forest...and I want that feeling back.”

“Tell me then when to pack and off we go, I’m not kidding,” Dara felt ready even half asleep, willing to throw herself under a bus if Billie wanted. “I’ll call Mavis once we are at home, do extra hours or something.”

Billie felt her heart squeeze, because the commitment Dara had with her was still up high even in a moment so unique like that one. She really thanked having the light turned off, because if not Dara would probably see how her eyes got all teary. The sweet static all over her skin made the feeling more wholesome and less...sad, as to speak, because Billie sometimes got desperate for showing her girl something like that and truly making her feel it.

“When I’m done with the new contract to film on the Hotel Cortez then,” Billie promised that with something else growing in her chest, side by side to all that love that was filling it right now. “We go straight away after that.”

“We can’t go exactly straight away,” Dara chuckled in another mumble, Billie hearing how her breathing was settling more and more but also the innuendo, which gained her a few playful pats in her butt. “But okay...still don’t like you’re going back.”

“Work is work, sweetheart,” something in the back of her head was recriminating Billie that it wasn’t actually the truth, however she shut it down.

“Work can go to Hell as far as I care,” there was a tint of harshness in Dara’s voice that got sweetened the next second. “If that means you come back to me, home, safe and sound...”

The raw sincerity jolted Billie as if she touched a socket with her hands wet and barefoot, and it left her in silence with a Dara that managed to hide her face in the crook of her neck, sleep taking her once and for all. It was hard to leave her speechless but many of those times were always thanks to the woman that was sleeping soundly in her arms now.

She was sure none could do that like Dara.

Billie always had this feeling of not knowing where she truly belonged, she thought while trying to calm her whole being to fall asleep as well. Not even when she was young felt like she was comfortable enough or could drop her defences to rest. But since she met the younger woman, that started to change little by little in a way that Billie barely noticed until she was too into it. Almost three years had passed since the day she realized what she truly wanted, what her heart wanted…

...and that was to stay by Dara’s side.

“I love you, you know that right?”

Unheard but she said it, she managed to say it and she felt selfish but at the same time she felt on top of the world. Dara, asleep, moved and rolled to let her back face Billie and she took advantage of that to cuddle her from behind, kissing the back of her head.

“Of course you know, if not you would have escaped from me long ago.”

…

The next morning, Billie woke up alone in bed but she didn’t feel lonely. Dara was missing from her rightful side of the bed and, still trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, Billie managed to get in Dara’s pajamas before going off to find her. It was funny to see Billie in baggy clothes, being out of place with her parents’ house by miles, but she navigated through corridors with expert feet and yawning big.

She found Josephine in her expedition, getting not only a drained look but also a few bills because apparently she won the bet - Jo crowning her as the winner after she clearly saw a hickey peeking from the t-shirt collar. Billie was too content and sleepy to throw a new jab, so she only kissed Jo’s temple with some kind of weird sisterly Christmas love and locked arms with her, deciding that probably was the best for both to make their way to the kitchen.

And when they crossed the door, Billie felt herself floating in cloud nine. Not only because of the smell of coffee, but because of the view she was welcomed with.

Dara was there talking with her mother in a respectful tone while Lucille gave her instructions, the contrast between both being way too big, over a big bowl. Billie’s father, Edward, was watching them from time to time while reading his book with a soft smile hiding under his moustache. It wasn’t something out of place, it was natural and it made Billie feel like woo because three of her most favourite people on this planet were enjoying, as far as she could see, being just there together.

“Dee, you never told me she was this good at baking,” Lucille said, barely fixing her eyes - same brown hue as her daughters - in them.

“Well, I told you a few times she was full of surprises, mother,” Billie made her way first to kiss her father’s cheek and steal a sip from his coffee. “Where are the kids, by the way? Did I miss presents’ time?”

She couldn’t help her smile go bigger when Dara rolled her eyes and looked down to the bowl, hiding that way her embarrassment for being in the spotlight of mother-daughter’s conversation. It didn’t stop her either from walking behind her girl and murmuring a soft ‘merry Christmas, doll’ after leaving a kiss on her nape and wrapping her arms around Dara’s middle, resting her chin on her shoulder and just staying like that.

“No, you didn’t miss it. Tanya and George are still asleep,” Edward said while Josephine served two big cups of coffee for her sister and her. “So we’re enjoying the bliss before the chaos.” Even Lucille laughed softly to her husband’s cheerful tone. “Any idea of what you are getting this year, Bibs?”

“I’m hoping for a few history books or a new phone, mine got totally trashed at work,” Billie responded while trying to stick her finger in the chocolate batter, unsuccessfully because her mother noticed but getting some the same because Dara did it for her, giving her own finger for Billie to lick quickly. “And you, dad?”

But all Billie could think about was that she already had her gift between her arms, she really wasn’t joking last night. She didn’t care about anything else this Christmas but having a good time and being able to spend it all with Dara and her family. For her, that moment in the kitchen was more than enough already as well.

She still felt happy the same when hours later she unwrapped all her new history books, the new phone and a handcrafted checkbook - which she was going to put to an use as soon as they were home -, all from Dara; plus some few other things from her parents.

However she felt the happiest when she finally handed the brand new set of car keys to her love, Dara’s eyes a chaotic mix of panic, happiness, shock and surprise. She laughed loudly when Josephine seemed about to pop up a vein upon seeing the car and her brother-in-law, Steve, high-fived her in a strange sudden burst of confidence.

Who would have told her that having your anniversary on Christmas’ Eve was going to be such fun?

Oops, maybe she forgot to add that last night to all the reasons she was dripping honey like crazy.

#billie dean howard x original character #dara ann lynch #billie dean howard #ahs murder house #american horror story

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creative-type · 4 years

Text

wake from death and return to life vi

AO3 First Previous Summary: Zoro had always been told that Kuina died falling down the stairs. But she didn’t fall, and she wasn’t dead.

AN: buckle up, kiddos. This is a long one

“It goes like this.”

Danny and Kuina exited the canteen line each with a bowl of rice and limp vegetables. They’d had to wait nearly an hour for even that, the Revolution carefully rationing the stores they’d raided from Tolouse’s granaries in the short time they were in control of the city. Danny claimed they had enough for at least a week of fighting, longer, perhaps, if the situation grew truly dire. Kuina couldn’t help but wonder how many of the men and women of Tolouse were allied with the Revolution simply because they filled their bellies, and how many would turn against them as their supplies dwindled.

Together, Kuina and Danny found a quiet corner and crouched down in the shadows to eat. It felt criminal, but Kuina was hungry, and she didn’t want the others to hear that she was grilling the one member of de Gris’s crew she could trust to be honest with her.

“Aria came from some Grand Line island or other known for its fencers,” Danny said in a low tone. She was just as eager to be left alone as Kuina, and perfectly happy to share the information she knew. “I heard her mother ran one of the more successful ones before she was killed in a pirate attack. It was after that Aria joined the marines.”

“I knew it!” Kuina said triumphantly. That damn coat never lied.

Danny looked at her askance, before chuckling wrly to herself. “She’s not the only one. Lyudmila was a marine, too, though not near as distinguished. When Aria left she took her ship with her, the Lady Valor. It made quite the stir at the time, I remember my parents reading about it in the paper. Of course, that was before I joined the Revolution,” she added, somewhat bitterly.

They paused as a Revolutionary wearing a tiger mask walked past. Kuina ate a few spoonfuls in silence, unwilling to admit she didn’t trust the Government-controlled news, nor care enough about world events, to bother with the paper. But before Danny had a chance to continue, the question burning at the end of her tongue spilled out. “Lady Valor…That’s something I don’t understand. Why are all her subordinates women? Doesn’t that make you conspicuous when you go from port to port? It’s not like there are that many lady sailors in the world.”

Kuina was half-afraid the other woman would laugh, or at least chastise her, but Danny simply took another bite of rice. “If I understand correctly—and mind you I heard all this second-hand; Boss gets real persnickety when asked—Aria sailed for a time under Vice Admiral Tsuru. She’s pretty famous for having an all female squadron on the Grand Line, so I guess that’s where she picked it up. But her whole crew isn’t women.”

“Just the important ones,” Kuina said, not sure if she was making a statement or asking a question.

“More or less,” Danny agreed.

Kuina scowled down in the general direction of her shoes. “That is so weird.”

“Aria has an eye for finding talent, no matter where that talent comes from,” Danny said. “There are a lot of men out there who wouldn’t even see people like us, let alone think to recruit us for the Revolution, no matter how talented we are. I mean, Dara was a street thief before Aria picked her up, and now she’s one of our best spooks, Elizabeth was on the run after accidentally causing an explosion at a marine garrison...”

“What?” Kuina interjected. “How?”

“Dust explosion with their flour supply,” Danny said. Seeing Kuina’s bug-eyed look of shock, she added hastily, “I mean, not all recruitments are that dramatic—I was only a naive apprentice stuck working under a jackass of a master when I first met her—but the point stands.” She finished the rest of her food and leaned her head back against the wall with a contented sigh. “She’s a bitch to work under sometimes, but at the time I was thankful to be free.”

“And now?”

Danny shrugged. “The Revolution isn’t for everyone. I think the next time we stop off at a base I’ll request to stay behind. Just build and fix ships, without having to worry about all this.” She gestured broadly to the streets of Tolouse.

“You can do that?” Kuina asked, surprised. “Just...ask not to fight any more?”

“Oh, sure. The Revolution is nothing about giving people the freedom of choice,” Danny said. “In fact, Aria’s crew rotates pretty frequently depending on what job she’s working on. Before you came along, Elizabeth was newest. She’s still pretty hopeless when it comes to fighting and sailcraft, so I think she’ll transfer to HQ one of these days to work on making weapons full time. Lyudmila is pretty much the only constant, but then again they left the marines together, so that’s not that a big of a surprise.”

Kuina squinted at her suspiciously. “Do you know everything about everyone?”

Danny laughed. “Well, I haven’t heard much about you. What’s your story? No, wait, let me guess—You’re a failed kabuki actor who accidentally swapped a prop sword for the real deal and killed the trope’s best actor, forcing you to go on the lam.”

Kuina couldn’t help it. She laughed. There was something about Danny’s flippant tone mixed with the ridiculousness of what she’d said that broke something within her. The tension that had been building within her since Loguetown eased from Kuina’s shoulders, and despite the smoky air, she could actually breathe.

The weak attempt at a joke wasn’t even funny. If anything, the truth that she’d revealed her face to a marine who might as well be her twin was even more ridiculous. But Kuina laughed until she cried, not caring if the people who walked past thought she was crazy, or that she’d spent her morning witnessing the aftermath of a massacre and her afternoon trying to comfort the hurt and dying.

It was infectious. Danny held back as long as she could, but soon her shoulders were shaking as she tried unsuccessfully to suppress giggles of her own. Each errant snort or cackle made the cycle start anew, each feeding into the other until their energy was spent and they were sprawled out in the street like a pair of drunks.

“That’s good. No matter what happens, you can’t forget how to laugh,” Danny said as she tried to catch her breath.

“What are you now, a sage?” Kuina asked.

“Maybe,” she said mysteriously, before falling into another fit of giggles. When she finally got herself under control, she pushed herself upright. “You never did answer the question, by the way. What are you doing here if you’re not a part of the Revolution?”

“I’m…”

“There you are.”

The shadow of Aria de Gris fell over them. The sun was sinking fast, the last rays of light skimming over the top of the barricades to shroud her in a celestial glow. Kuina suddenly felt very small and very foolish, and chided herself for being caught off guard. Hastily she got to her feet, settling her mask back over her face.

“Come on,” de Gris said, seemingly unaware of how her very presence sucked what little joy and happiness Kuina had found since leaving Loguetown. “I’ve got a job for the both of you.”

They were led inside a tiny seamstress’s shop. What little space that was available was crowded by shelves full of vibrant bolts of fabric, while spools of thread organized by color hung on racks next to mannequins draped with half-finished dresses. At the back of the shop a table had been swept away of cutting boards, material, sewing machines, and needles, dominated instead by a large map of the city.

Spooled bobbins, blue thread indicating the position of the Revolutionaries and red the Tolouse army, had been set down marking their respective positions. Kuina was no master strategist, but it seemed to her that there was a lot more red than blue. She squeezed in a small space between Danny and Dara, who had beaten them to the meeting, glad to be next to the two members of de Gris’s crew she was most familiar with.

“Alright, ladies. I know it’s been a hell of a day already, but we’ve received new orders,” de Gris said once everyone was settled. She rested her hands against the table, staring down at the bobbins as if a glare was enough to wipe them off the face of the map. “To start with some good news, earlier today Betty was able to capture a couple ships without damaging them—one military, one merchant. Incorporating them into our plans going forward will be vital to our mission’s success.”

“I’ve seen those ships, Captain,” Camille interrupted. “They’re small, and the merchant vessel isn’t outfitted for battle. I’m not sure they’ll be of much help in a fight.”

Heads around the table nodded in unison. Of de Gris’s crewmembers Kuina had already met, only Lyudmila was missing, replaced by an old woman she had never seen before. The old woman had a stoop in her back that made her even shorter than Elizabeth and wore a pair of glasses so tiny that it was a wonder she could even see through them. She appeared to only half-listen to what de Gris was saying, concentrating more on a line of snail phones laying at the edge of the map.

The communications expert, then. Danny had said something of her earlier, but Kuina couldn’t recall her name. Ignoring her for the moment, she turned her attention back to de Gris.

“The surprise attack on the square and fires have cut deeply into our numbers,” Camille said. “Even with Betty’s tropes, I don’t know how we can undo the damage that’s been done. Perhaps if Dragon had stayed…”

“Dragon had his own business to attend to,” de Gris said sharply. “And we aren’t going to use those ships to attack. Betty has decided—-and I agree—-that it’s time for our squad to pull out. Reinforcements should be arriving from the Venn Islands within the week, and we’re needed elsewhere.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the room, and de Gris continued, “Betty’s people are gathering those who wish to escape the island, and we are to help escort them to safety with a coordinated rearguard action. Those who wish to continue the liberation effort will flee from the city to an underground cave system to the north and hopefully live to fight another day.”

“You can’t just leave them.”

Aria de Gris looked up even as Kuina regretted the words that came out of her mouth, but to her immense surprise a few heads around the table bobbed in agreement.

“We stopped them once, we can do it again,” Dara said, putting a hand on Kuina’s shoulder. Her facepaint was worse for wear, smeared in some places and scraped off entirely in others, but that didn’t put a damper on her determination. “I was out there all day, and they’re no stronger than before. They caught us by surprise. That doesn’t mean they won.”

“This isn’t about winning,” de Gris said. Her voice was cold and her eyes shifted into the same ugly look they had upon arriving at Tolouse. Elizabeth, who happened to be nearest to her, took a small step to the side, until she was touching elbows with Clara Cross.

“This isn’t about winning,” she repeated after taking a deep, cleansing breath. “Our current position is indefensible. Military reinforcements will soon arrive from outside the city, and with them is a civilian army that thinks we killed their king in cold blood. The ones Betty had been grooming to take over once we secured control were murdered when the authorities purged the unions. Even here, half the men on our side believe we set the fires that destroyed their homes and killed their loved ones. If Betty were to use her ability now, there’s a fifty-fifty chance the riots would turn on the Revolution.

“There are powers at play trying very hard to ensure that we do not claim this island. For God’s sake, use your brain,” de Gris said harshly. “Why do you think Dragon came to the East Blue? Hell, why do you think he brought us to the East Blue, if he didn’t expect some sort of foul play?”

“Then why didn’t he stick around?” Elizabeth demanded.

“Because he thought we won,” Camille said slowly, comprehension dawning as she put together what de Gris was saying. “Because we all thought we won.”

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted them blowing up their king,” Clara said.

De Gris nodded. “We’ve been had. It’s dangerous for Dragon to stay in any one place for an extended period of time, and I think our enemy realized that when planning their counterattack. If the World Government knew he was in the East Blue for weeks on end they wouldn’t hesitate to send forces after him.”

“As if the marines could defeat Dragon,” Dara snorted.

“The collateral damage would be enormous. Would any of you like to face off against a Buster Call?” She paused for effect as the faces around the table paled. “I thought not.”

Tapping a finger against the map, de Gris continued, “In any case, the Revolution doesn’t overthrow islands with the intention of taking control for ourselves. We follow the will of the people, and, unfortunately, with the stories that have been circulated island-wide, we have lost the war of public opinion. The best thing is to cut our losses and regroup for a prolonged fight elsewhere. And that fight doesn’t include us.”

She fell silent, unease settling over the crew like a lead blanket. Kuina looked down at her sword. For the most part she agreed with de Gris’s logic, but the idea of de Gris abandoning the island didn’t sit well with her. Dara and Camille’s efforts getting Betty’s people ashore safely proved that a handful of skilled fighters could turn the tide of battle. Surely the rebellion on Tolouse needed doctors, and bomb makers, and...and…

God above, she was taking their side. Kuina didn’t even have proof that their war was justified, and she wanted to stay and help them fight it. What was wrong with her? They had promised her passage to the Grand Line, she couldn’t stay here and follow her ambition at the same time.

She wondered how disappointed Zoro would be if he could see her now.

“When’s the retreat?” Danny asked, propping her head up on her chin as she looked down at the map thoughtfully.

“Tonight. I take it the Valor is ready to sail?” de Gris said.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t,” Danny said.

“And our snails? Trini?”

The old woman blinked as she looked up. “I have attempted several frequencies across the natural spectrum den-den mushi are capable of, and each have been jammed. That means there are a large number of horned den-den mushi active, likely spread out across the city.”

“Horned den-den mushi?” Elizabeth asked.

“A new breed of snail, dear, just developed in the last several years. Instead of sending and receiving transmissions, the horn-like protrusions on their bodies instead send bursts of white noise that overload the wavelengths the snails use to communicate. They seem to be quite contrary little creatures.”

“Seem?” de Gris said. “You’ve never handled them?”

“Until today, no.”

Trini pulled a snail from the pocket of her apron and set it on the table. It was smaller than the snail typically used for making calls, but larger than a baby den-den mushi. Two small protrusions stuck out on either side, just below the head. Twin eyestalks glared balefully up Trini, as if showing how little it appreciated being stuffed in an old woman’s pocket.

“One of the lads found him on a windowsill. Bless his heart, he brought it here not even thirty minutes ago thinking it was one of mine that had run away. As if any snail of mine would be so ornery,” Trini said. She looked back up at de Gris regretfully. “My dear, someone brought it here, likely after the barricades were placed.”

“Dear god, that means…” Danny breathed. She suddenly cut herself, unable to bring herself to say aloud what the presence of enemy snails in the heart of the Revolutionary’s stronghold meant.

“If possible, Aria, I would like more,” Trini said. “They would be invaluable to the Revolution going forward.”

“That would necessitate finding the little beasts,” de Gris said, but even then a thoughtful look crossed over her face.”

“All the literature I’ve read suggests their range is limited. And, if I might add, they block all signals, not just ours. Considering the dearth of homing pigeons of late, I can only assume that Tolouse’s network is working without difficulty,” Trini said. “The one time I was able to contact you while at sea, I happened to be outside the barricades. I believe that if the Revolution leaves the city entirely, communications should be restored without need for further intervention.”

“Assuming no one brings the little bastards along with them,” de Gris said, her eyes narrowed into slits. Her crew didn’t say a word as she silently fumed.

Suddenly de Gris slammed a fist against the table, throwing bobbins into the air and making the wood crack under the blow. “They’ve had us outplayed from the very beginning,” she said darkly. “Trini, go to Betty with what you’ve found. I want this hellhole scoured for any more of those snails before we move. Clara, get back to the wounded. Make it so that those who are healthy enough to travel can travel. Camille, Danny, get to the Valor and make sure she’s ready for a hasty exit. Dara, there should be some scouts ensuring our path of retreat is clear, I want you to help them. Elizabeth, I want anyone who comes after the Revolution’s retreat to run into some surprises along the way. Understood?”

There were a few snapped salutes, a few more, yes ma’ams, and de Gris’s crew gathered their belongings and started for the exit. Kuina alone stayed in place, closing her eyes as the Revolutionary women brushed past her to leave. Someone clasped their hand on her shoulder, but her thoughts were too jumbled to try and figure out who.

In seconds she was alone with de Gris. Slowly Kuina opened her eyes, but de Gris didn’t seem to realize that she was still there. She was still staring down at the map as if had the answers that she sought.

“Uhh...” Kuina forced herself to keep her face neutral as de Gris’s head snapped up.

De Gris’s eyes bored into her, but Kuina got the feeling that it was looking without really seeing. Her mind was too busy elsewhere. “”What do you want?”

“Am I supposed to just go with Danny?” Kuina asked. You said this was an army. What are my orders?

De Gris let out a heavy breath, fingers tapping impatiently against the table. Her eyebrows knit together in an unhappy line. “No…” she said slowly. “We need strong swords to help escort the ones who are fleeing. They’re just ordinary people. Most don’t know how to hold themselves in a fight, and I can’t trust the few who do to keep a clear head in a sticky situation.”

She paused then. So long that Kuina wondered if she’d been dismissed, but before she could take her leave, de Gris said in a low voice, “I can’t promise I can get you to the Grand Line after this.”

Kuina froze in place.

“There’s too much here that doesn’t make sense. Too many resources being used to ensure we don’t win this island. I’m not going to be satisfied with running away with my tail tucked between my legs without bloodying their nose first. My pride won’t allow it. Do you understand, Swordsman?”

“You promised,” Kuina said, the buzz in her ears making her voice sound faint and very far away. “Dragon promised!”

“I know,” de Gris said. “That’s why I’m telling you I want you on that boat with the rest of the refugees. It’s headed for a Revolutionary stronghold at the entrance of the Grand Line. From there, you’re free to do as you please.”

At first Kuina didn’t hear the words that came out of her mouth. But when they pierced through her defensive walls of anger she deflated like a punctured balloon. “You’re going to just...let me go? Even after seeing one of your bases?”

De Gris showed what she thought about Kuina selling the Revolution out with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “You said it yourself—the marines don’t like people who beat up their officers, even if the information’s good. I don’t know if that shot would have hit Elizabeth earlier today, but you saved me from having to find out. The Revolution saved your ass at Loguetown, but you’ve paid that debt. A life for a life.” She chuckled darkly to herself. “Hell, if you wanted to go out there and fight for the Tolouse army I wouldn’t stop you. But I don’t think that’s what you want, is it?”

“No, of course not.” Getting to the Grand Line was all that mattered.

“Then get out of my sight. God willing, we’ll never have to see one another again.”

Kuina’s frown deepened. It would take hours to organize the retreat. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t cross paths before then.

Unless…

“You told everyone else what their jobs were,” Kuina said carefully, “but you never said what you’re planning to do in all this mess.”

A wolfish grin spread across de Gris’s face. “You need to get your ears checked, kid. I told you already—there are some people out there who deserve to get their noses bloody, and I’m going to make sure they get what’s coming to them.”

She turned back to the table and carefully rolled up the map. Recognizing the dismissal when she saw it, Kuina left the shop, not sure if she should be apprehensive or jealous.

Elizabeth was just outside the doorway, talking with a Revolutionary in a fox helmet. Kuina stopped, a feeling that was strangely familiar to regret washing over her. It would have been so much easier if these were bad people, but they weren't. Making a snap decision, Kuina slung her bag from her shoulder and rummaged through its contents until she found a

her few remaining bills that had survived falling into the sea.

She counted out five hundred berries and shoved them into Elizabeth’s hand, ignoring the girl’s indignant, and then confused look as she stalked away.

After all, a swordsman always paid their debts.

Xxx

The Revolutionary Kuina was partnered with described sewers as the arteries of a city. Smelly, dirty arteries that were barely passable for a healthy, able-bodied person, and the majority of the men, women, and children that fleeing Tolouse couldn’t rightly be called either.

Kuina was glad that she didn’t have the thankless task of choosing between who had the opportunity to flee and the ones forced to stay. The Revolution didn’t have nearly enough ships to accommodate those whose homes had been destroyed, and even if they did, they had to be cautious who they allowed into their secret bases scattered throughout the world.

Instead she and a man called Azem shuffled small clusters of people through the city’s underground. They were one of several teams, each taking different routes to the various boats hidden up and down the coast. The hope was that the Revolutionaries above would provide enough of a distraction to the army for them to get away safely, but the depleted numbers of the Revolution meant they had to move quickly or risk being overrun.

That was a task easier said than done. Many of the people Kuina guided were in shock, some refusing to acknowledge that they may never return to their homes. Some screamed when they were forced to leave behind treasured belongings too heavy or awkward to carry. Kuina heard enough ungrateful grumbling to last a thousand lifetimes, and those who didn’t complain wept, an overwhelming sense of fear exuding from them that was more pungent than the foulness they were forced to travel through.

It was exhausting in a way her training had never prepared her for. Kuina made the last trip with a boy strapped across her back, his little arms like vice grips around her neck. Even though she could scarcely breathe, Kuina didn’t chastise him. Strangulation was better than him crying, which seemed inevitable by his hitched, haggard breathing every time she adjusted his weight on her back.

Clasped around her hand, equally tight, was the boy’s older sister. Kuina didn’t like having only one hand free for her sword, but the girl had refused to move unless she had someone to hold on to, and no one else volunteered for the task. The clothes of both children were well cared for and they lacked the thin-limbed, gaunt look of hunger, which meant that they had had someone to watch over them at one point in time, but who that person was Kuina had no idea. Asking had made fat tears fall down the girl’s face, and she eventually decided she was better off not knowing.

Every few minutes the walls of the sewer would shake and rumble from an explosion above ground, each one dislodging bits of mortar and grime overhead and sending a jolt of increased urgency and anxiety through their small group. It was in those tensest moments that Kuina was most grateful for Azem. He was a jovial, middle aged man who chose to go without a mask, going from person to person encouraging them onward, helping stragglers, and generally keeping this last group from panicking.

It was miserable, thankless work, but finally they reached the metal rungs that would lead them to safety. Azem climbed first, pausing to listen at the cover of the manhole before lifting it aside.

“Hurry,” he urged. “There’s not much time—”

A blinding flash of light flashed in the sky above, followed immediately by a roar of fire. Those trying to flee screamed, and Kuina had to catch one who tried to run back through the tunnels even as the girl at her side tried to bury her head in Kuina’s shirt.

Azem was knocked from the ladder and landed awkwardly on the walkway below. He cried out in pain, immediately clutching at his leg.

“We’re dead! They’ve found us and now we’re dead!” a woman screamed shrilly.

“No one’s dying!” Kuina snapped. She threw the attempted runaway back into the group and pried the children off of her body, handing them off to the nearest person who seemed willing to take them before rushing to Azem.

His right leg was obviously broken, but the bone hadn’t cut through the skin. Breathing a prayer for small mercies, Kuina looked up at the uncovered manhole. The moon was bright enough to break through the haze of smoke and ash. No further sounds of fighting filtered down below, and Kuina took a deep breath.

“It looks like it was an unlucky shot,” she said, keeping her voice calm and firm. She felt dozens of eyes boring into her back as she tried to think. “I’m going up to double check. Everyone stay put—running now probably will get you killed.”

She crouched down to Azem and asked quietly, “Did you hurt anything other than the leg?”

“No,” he gasped. “I don’t think so.”

Remembering one of the tricks the doctors used back at the Oldtown hospital, Kuina checked for the pulse by his ankle and found it was still strong. He was getting blood to his foot. With nothing here to help brace it, the best thing to do was probably get him to the ships to be looked after by someone who knew what they were doing.

That meant exiting the sewers.

Taking a deep breath, Kuina began to climb, straining her ears to hear anything that might have been amiss. When she reached the surface she lifted her head out carefully. She could hear the sound of fighting, but it was still in the distance. Chewing on her bottom lip, Kuina thought hard. The Tolouse Army was never supposed to get this close. Another misfired rocket could kill her whole group, but she didn’t know any other way to the ships.

They would have to be fast, but she couldn’t let them panic. Kuina lowered herself back into the tunnel.

“Definitely an unlucky shot,” she hissed. “Come on, we’re close now.”

The people looked at one another, naked fear in their expressions, but after a few tense seconds the man who’d tried to run stepped to the rungs. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not staying here.”

After that, they started fighting one another to escape. With her partner unable to organize the chaos below, it was all Kuina could do to pull them out of the hole as fast as they could climb. With her sword sheathed and her back to any potential enemy, the minutes passed with agonizing slowness, but Kuina was able to at least get them all out of the sewers.

All except Azem.

The sound of the battle grew louder. In her gut, Kuina knew that they only had before their position would be exposed. Her eyes flickered from the refugees to Azem and back again, while the people waited anxiously for her to tell them what to do.

“Do you remember where you’re going?” Kuina asked. A few nodded their heads hesitantly. “Then run. When you reach the ship tell the Revolutionaries to prepare ready to sail; I’ll be right behind you.”

Without waiting for their response, Kuina went down to the tunnel. Azem’s eyes bulged at the sight of her. “What are you doing?” he exclaimed. “The mission—”

“Do you want to die?” Kuina said sharply. “Because if I leave you here, that’s what’s going to happen.”

Kuina glanced up, but the shadows of the refugees were already gone. She hoped the little boy had found someone to carry him.

“My life isn’t what’s important here,” Azem said. “Besides, how the hell do you expect to get me out of here? You’ve condemned us both.”

Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Kuina threw Azem over her shoulder. He bit back a groan, and without waiting for him to argue, Kuina began to climb.

It was neither elegant nor easy, but Kuina managed to get Azem out of the sewers. The fighting was even closer now. Kuina hadn’t managed more than a few steps before she heard someone yell, followed closely by the rapport of a rifle.

Kuina had no choice. She ran, the sound of her feet pounding against the ground in rhythm with the thundering of her heart. She smelt blood, but didn’t know where it was coming from. She ignored it. She ignored everything but the urge to run.

A bullet passed by overhead. Cursing, Kuina ducked down and forced herself faster. She could see the ocean now, and the silhouette of the Revolutionary’s ship against the backdrop of the rising moon. She was so close she could taste it…

A shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness and raised a gun. Kuina tried to stop, but she was going too fast, Azem’s weight making her clumsy. The flash of the muzzle blinded her vision, bullet missing her by inches.

When Kuina finally stopped, she recognized Danny’s terrified face. The shipwright fired twice more, and behind her, Kuina heard someone scream. A broken laugh bubbled through the terror.

“What are you doing?” Kuina screamed. “You’re supposed to be at the ship!”

“I...I couldn’t do it,” Danny said. “I can’t keep living like this. Weren’t you listening earlier? There a traitor leaking information to the marines. I know how Aria is. She won’t stop until she gets everyone under her command killed trying to figure out who.”

Danny fired twice more, and would have kept firing, except she’d run out of bullets. She had the wide-eyed look of a spooked horse and obviously wasn't thinking clearly. Kuina risked a glance behind her and swore. The battle was coming to them, and there was no time left to argue.

“Hold on Azem, almost there,” Kuina whispered, and once again she ran, grabbing Danny as she passed.

“I knew you’d understand,” she gasped. “That’s why I waited, I was so scared when you didn’t come with the rest, I thought you’d gone back to fight…”

“Less talking, more running,” Kuina growled. “I can’t carry the both of you—”

Sudden pain exploded in the back of her head. She barely felt the jolt as she collapsed to her knees, Azem sliding out of her arms, and was unconscious before ever hitting the ground

Xxx

Kuina woke in a dark, dingy room that smelled of shit and sweat. Clumsily she brought a hand to the back of her head, only to have it come back wet and sticky with blood. Even in the darkness she could feel the press of humanity around her, too many bodies in too close a space.

Someone had taken her sword.

“Wha...what happened?” she groaned. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she felt the gentle rock of water. A ship. She was on a ship.

Beams of moonlight came in from a hatch above, where bars of iron locked them away from their freedom. So not just a ship, she was in a brig. Groggily, Kuina got to her feet and looked around her, lurching forward without having any real idea where she was going.

Someone tugged on her shirt. Kuina looked down to see the girl she’d helped guide through the sewers. De Gris said the Revolution had commandeered a military vessel, but there was no reason to force the refugees into a literal prison. Unless that was their way of hiding them until they reached their base on the Grand Line? It was the only explanation that made sense. Kuina couldn’t think. It hurt too much.

“Danny?” she groaned. “Azem?”

“They brought you in alone,” a man said hoarsely. Kuina recognized him, too. He’d tried to run away when Azem fell. The shadows of the night made the hollows of his cheeks seem deeper, his eyes more hopeless.

“I don’t understand. What’s going on?” Kuina said.

“They captured us. Now they’re going to take us with all the rest.”

The words made someone else burst into a sob. Kuina looked all around, but only grew more confused. None of them were bound, yet they weren’t trying to escape. Nor was anyone in hysterics, or screaming for help. All around her Kuina saw faces drawn in weary resignation, as if they weren’t surprised by this turn of events.

“Take us with all the rest...where?” Kuina asked.

The man laughed a thin, reedy laugh. “They didn’t tell you? All criminals on Tolouse get shipped to Tequila Wolf. Damn you and your revolution, at least back home we could have died like men. You people have—” He cut himself off suddenly and turned his back on Kuina. “I hope you’re happy with yourself. Because of you, we’re all going to die.”

Kuina felt as if she’d been plunged in a bucket of ice water, but anger fueled by pain and confusion quickly burned through the shock. “No one forced you to come. You could have stayed and fought for your home, but you chose to flee. That’s not my fault.”

“I saw my wife burn!” the man screamed. “What was I supposed to do? I was a bricklayer, for god’s sake. I don’t know how to hold a sword or fire a gun. I didn’t ask for you to come, I didn’t want to fight!”

He came so close that Kuina began to see double, and for a moment it looked as if he might try to hit her. Kuina didn’t flinch as he grabbed a fist full of her jacket. Didn’t look away from the anguish burning in his eyes.

The only sound was of his labored breathing, his breath hot on her face. Still Kuina did not move. Then, all at once, his lip quivered, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. Kuina could do nothing as the man in front of her broke. Her jacket slid through his fingers as he slumped to his knees, face crumpled in abject misery before he buried it in his arms and wept.

“I remember when they took my uncle,” a woman said. “They stole him right from his bed, and we never saw him again.”

“The bastards got my best friend. Said he’d been stirring up sedition, whatever that means,” another said bitterly. “Found out later it was someone else handing out those fliers, but when we went to the judge asking them to bring him back he said there was nothing he could do.”

Others murmured in agreement, telling stories of other people They had gotten in the samed hushed tones children used for ghost stories, and with the same bone-chilling effect. Unease setting her teeth on edge, Kuina kneeled down to the man in front of her. Body-wracking sobs had overtaken him, and no matter what she did, Kuina couldn’t get him to even look at her.

The little girl pressed closer to her side, eyes wide as saucers. Kuina looked down at her and asked, “I don’t suppose you can tell me what Tequila Wolf is?”

When she spoke, the words came out in a little puff of air that scarcely bridged the distance between them. “It’s a place where bad people go until they learn how to be good.”

If the stories swirling around them were any indication, being good was a feat few managed to achieve. Head pounding, Kuina got to her feet and tried to think. The ship wasn’t sailing yet, but likely would be soon. She had to strain, but she could still hear the sounds of battle. Which she supposed was a good thing as it meant the Revolution hadn’t been overrun, but the plan had only been for short, distracting skirmishes to pull the Tolouse army’s attention away from the various retreats. They weren’t prepared to get dragged into a headon clash tonight.

There’s a traitor. Danny’s words rang in Kuina’s mind. That must have been how they knew to target the transport ships. Kuina didn’t know if any of the other ship’s locations had been compromised, but had to assume the worst. The Revolution’s closest reinforcements were still on the Venn Islands. No one was coming to rescue them once they got out to sea.

“Where’s your brother?” Kuina asked.

The girl shrugged. “They said he was too little and took him away. Can you find him? Please?”

Boots marched on the decks overhead. Over the murmuring of the captives Kuina heard the orders to raise anchor. Her eyes darted around looking for some escape, but it was a brig. Even if she stood on someone’s shoulders she didn’t think she’d be tall enough to reach the metal bars separating her from freedom.

If only I had my sword. But no. They’d taken it from her, along with her backpack and mask, and with her time and options dwindling to nothing, Kuina didn’t know what she was supposed to do.

It quickly became apparent that she couldn’t escape on her own, and the people around her were too busy wallowing in their own misery to be of much help. If she were somehow able to convince the sailors above she wasn’t a Revolutionary then maybe they might let her go, but based on the stories she was hearing even that seemed doubtful.

Kuina’s thought up and discarded several ideas in rapid succession, each more unlikely than the last, until she stumbled upon an idea that was insane enough to be worth trying. Not giving herself a chance to second guess her own stupidity, Kuina pushed through the crowd of people until she was directly under the hatch and bellowed at the top of her lungs,

“My name is Master Chief Petty Officer Tashigi of the 223rd Division, and I demand to speak with the captain of this ship!”

Ignoring the gasps of surprise from the Tolouse refugees, she cupped her hands against her face and repeated her demand. Her heart sank as she got no immediate answer, but she had never been one to let something as trifling as disappointment stop her before. Kuina bellowed her doppleganger’s name and rank again and again and again, until her voice cracked and her throat burned. Even if they did not believe her, Kuina hoped to at least annoy them enough to send someone to shut her up.

It took a few minutes of arduous effort, but eventually a head leaned over the iron bars, casting a shadow over Kuina. “Quit your hollering,” the sailor snapped. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, but I know for a fact there ain’t no marines in Tolouse.”

“I’m not from Tolouse you imbecile,” Kuina retorted. She tried to ape the same haughty manner she saw in the officers that came through Loguetown. It took a certain level of imperiousness that the real Tashigi had never managed to grasp, but this idiot wouldn’t know the difference. “Under the orders of Captain Smoker, I infiltrated a Revolutionary ship docked at Loguetown pretending to be a sympathizer. We had hoped to find out what the Revolutionary leader Dragon was doing stinking up our waters and would have notified local authorities through the proper channels if someone hadn’t decided to put horned snails all over the city.”

“The marines know better than to—”

“Do you think Captain Smoker has ever let anyone tell him what to do?” Kuina said, somehow managing to keep her voice cool and collected even as she scrambled for excuses. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased as punch when I tell him you assholes forced me to blow my cover. Or would you rather wait until I get to Tequila Wolf to deliver that bit of news?”

The sailor gulped. It seemed that Smoker’s reputation traveled farther than expected.

“I’m waiting,” Kuina said after giving the implications sink in properly.

“I, uh...I need to run this by my captain,” the sailor said. “If you don’t mind, can I have your identification number, just to be safe?”

Kuina gave it, having memorized Tashigi’s military ID through sheer repetition after years of filling paperwork verifying bounties. Between that and all the times Tashigi used Ipponmatsu’s shop to clean her sword, Kuina knew enough of her personal information to satisfy any interrogator, but if they actually contacted the base in Loguetown she was done for.

She held her breath as the sailor disappeared. Kuina hardly paid attention when one of the Tolouse refugees approached, an old woman that Kuina remembered having to carry through parts of the journey through the sewers.

“What is it?” Kuina asked impatiently.

“How dare you,” the woman said, her voice barely contained fury. “How dare the marines show their face here, after all you’ve done.”

She slapped Kuina across the face, hard, and spit at her feet. Kuina brought a hand to her now-burning cheek in shock, saying nothing as a wave of vitriol spilled from the old woman’s mouth. It was only when the woman raised her hand again Kuina moved, effortlessly catching her wrist.

“I let you hit me once, in deference to your age and obvious distress,” Kuina said in a low, dangerous voice, “but I will not suffer that indignity twice. You know nothing about me or my purpose for coming here, so shut up and leave me alone.” She shoved the hand away, causing the old woman to stumble back.

Kuina eyed the rest warily, but they were too afraid to challenge her. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, mixing with the blood from the blow to the back of her skull. Her head pounded, making it hard to think much past the fear.

If I just had my sword…

It felt like an eternity past, but in all likelihood it had only been minutes before the sailor came back, this time with friends. He unlocked the hatch, swinging it open before lowering down a ladder. Kuina climbed her way to freedom, while the sailors used the butts of their rifles to keep any of the other prisoners from doing the same.

Kuina wasn’t sure she had ever been more glad for the fresh sea air, but one look at the sailors showed she wasn’t out of the woods yet. One sailor with a no-nonsense buzz cut and a muscular frame so compact it was nearly square snapped a salute, acting as the leader for the rest. “Our apologies for the inconvenience, Petty Officer, but the captain would like to speak with you.”

“I want my sword,” Kuina said.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but—”

“Someone knocked me unconscious this evening, sailor, and I don’t think it was the Revolution,” Kuina said. “Give me my sword or put me back in the brig and wait for Tequila Wolf. Your choice.”

“I...er, yes, ma’am. What I was trying to say was that your belongings have already been taken to the captain’s quarters.”

“...Oh.” Kuina almost apologized, but managed to stop herself in time. She’d never met a marine who would admit fault if they could help it, Tashigi being the exception that proved that rule. Instead she nodded curtly, and Buzz Cut snapped an order that was hastily obeyed by a pudgy-faced boy who didn’t look old enough to shave.

Kuina glanced out at Tolouse before letting them take her into the captain’s quarters. Explosions burst through the sky like fireworks in a New Year celebration, lighting up a skyline that flickered red and orange. The fires the Revolution had worked so hard to put out were back in full force, and under the light of the moon, Tolouse had transformed to hell on earth. And with the fighting still going in earnest, there wasn’t any way to stop it.

“There was a boy with this group of prisoners, couldn’t have been much older than five,” Kuina said. “Where is he?”

Buzz Cut’s poker face was excellent, his subordinates’, less so. Shame-faced, the pudgy boy opened the door to the captain’s quarters and bid her to enter. Frowning, Kuina squared her shoulders and tried to make herself as intimidating as a person who smelled like a sewer possibly could.

Buzz Cut didn’t even wait for Kuina to fully enter before he began shouting orders. “Prepare to sail. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

“No.”

Buzz Cut turned to Kuina in shock. “Petty Officer, with all due respect—”

“I said no,” Kuina said coldly. “And until I get in contact with Captain Smoker, I’m the voice of the World Government for this entire damn island. Right now you’d have better luck arguing with god than getting me to change my mind.”

Laughter rumbled deep within the captain’s quarters that made a chill crawl up Kuina’s spine. “My, my, my, look how assertive you’ve gotten since we’ve last met. I’ll admit, I didn’t think you had it in you, Petty Officer.”

Sitting behind an ornately carved desk was a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing the long coat and epaulettes of a captain. His face might have been handsome once, but his features had the squashed, lumpy look of a brawler who’d lost more fights than they won. A saber hung at his hip.

“Close the door,” the captain said.

“But sir,” Buzz Cut protested, “our orders…”

“Our orders can wait the few minutes it will take to put our marine friend at ease. Now, shut the door. Please.”

While framed as a request, the order was anything but. Buzz Cut swallowed loudly and did as he was told. When they were alone, the captain reached behind his desk and retrieved Kuina’s sword. “I see you’re as obsessed as ever ‘bout your steel, Petty Officer. Always thought it were a shame you got leashed that wild dog Smoker, and it seems he’s baying just as loud as ever. You deserve a better sort of man than him.”

He laughed again, the sound like a rusty knife drug over stone. Confused and more than a little suspicious, Kuina quickly inspected its blade. When she was satisfied it hadn’t been damaged or tampered with, Kuina hung it at her hip.

“Do I know you?” she asked. The words had hardly escaped her lips before she regretted them, but the man snorted.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me already, Petty Officer. It’ll wound me manly pride.” His grin widened, revealing a mouth full of blackened, rotting teeth. “Or are you really that blind without your glasses?”

“I’d like to think I purposefully forgot to save myself the pain of remembering that ugly mug of yours,” Kuina said. “Now identify yourself! What in the world is going on here? Why do you have children in your brig?”

“Is that what this is about?” the man said, sounding disappointed. “Smoker was the same way when I spoke to him last year. You soft-hearted types are why the world’s going to shit. You know as well as I do that age doesn’t matter when it comes to criminals. We have legal justification for every one of those rebels we locked up. Excusing your pretty face, o’ course. Or did you somehow miss the fucking war right outside these doors?”

Kuina balled her hands into fists and didn’t answer.

A look of satisfaction spread across the captain’s face. He bowed slightly, with a little, mocking flourish that made Kuina want to punch him in his ugly, leering face. “Captain Jack O’Neil at your service, of the Callihan Trading Company. It’s a pleasure to remake your acquaintance, Petty Officer. To be honest, it’s been far too long since a lady of your caliber graced these planks, and I’m sorry one of my men had to crack your skull to do it. Once we get this sorted I’ll have my men do everything in our power to ensure your stay on my ship is a comfortable one.”

Kuina’s frown deepened. She’d heard of the CTC—they were forever hanging advertisements near the docks of Loguetown in search of sailors and hired swords to protect their wares from pirates.There’d been a time when she’d been tempted to sign up for a voyage, but when she went to inquire about the post she was laughed out of the room by a pair of burly men with more muscles than sense.

The company dabbled in everything from the spice trade to arms transport and weren’t particularly picky about who they worked for. There were even rumors that pirates and crime lords used them as a front for their smuggling operations, but Kuina had always dismissed them as overblown talk from jealous competitors.

She was beginning to think now that there was some truth behind those allegations.

Jack O’Neil cleared his throat when the silence stretched a beat too long to remain comfortable. “You and I both know that all this destruction could have been avoided if not for these rebels. You agree that the perpetrators need to be punished, doncha, Petty Officer?”

Kuina's eyes hardened. “The boy. Where is he?”

“Expedited sentence,” O’Neil said with a shrug. “Couldn’t be helped, ones that little are no good for hard labor. It’s the same with the known Revolutionaries, they’re too much of a risk to imprison, and the money on their heads is good even if we turn ‘em in cold. It’s just good business. You understand how it is.”

He’d killed him. The monster in front of her had killed a child in cold blood. He’d killed Azem. He’d killed Danny, who regretted joining the Revolution and had been trying to escape a life of violence and death.

Kuina’s world went red.

“No, Captain. I’m afraid I don’t.”

It was now O’Neil’s turn for silence. He squinted down at Kuina, perplexed and exasperated. “Did that blow to the head knock your common sense loose, Petty Officer? I don’t you recall you bein’ half this mouthy before, or didja spend enough time with the menfolk that you finally grew a pair of—”

Kuina struck before he could even think to move. A gurgled scream tore from his lips as O’Neil grasped the wound at the base of his throat. His eyes bulged in terror and pain, one hand trying to stem the bleeding while the other reached for the sword at his side.

Kuina didn’t give him the chance.

Stepping over O’Neil’s rapidly-cooling body. Behind his desk she found her bag, which had obviously been searched through and hastily repacked, and her mask. She put the latter in her bag after wrapping it in a shirt to keep it from breaking and slung it over her shoulder.

She wanted them to see her face before they died.

A den-den mushi at the corner of O’Neil’s desk caught her eye. It was attached to a machine that allowed faxes, and Kuina laughed when she saw that it hadn’t been used. The idiot captain hadn’t bothered to verify her story, trusting that he’d be able to recognize Tashigi on sight.

There were papers, too. Logs and ledgers and a map of the area. Kuina was in the process of stuffing them in her backpack when the door to the office opened, revealing the face of the pudgy boy.

“I’m sorry, sir, but Mo wanted to know if we had permission to set sail yet. He says it’s getting bad…”

His voice trailed off into a whisper as his eyes followed the path of blood from O’Neil to Kuina. He stood, slack jawed and wide-eyed, swaying gently on his feet as if he were about to faint.

“Whu...what happened?”

Kuina leveled her sword at the boy. “Get off this ship, or I will kill you.”

The boy flinched. Kuina didn’t know if it was an attempt to draw his weapon or a visceral response to fear, but she took no chances. The boy screamed as she darted forward, but remained firmly rooted in place. He quickly joined his captain in death.

The advantage of stealth was gone with the cry of alarm. If nothing else, the men waiting on deck were professionals and quickly recovered from their initial shock. Kuina dodged the blow from a cutlass, her counter catching him on the wrist. The sailor screamed, clutching the bloody stump where his hand used to be.

“Call the alarm!” Buzz Cut bellowed, deflecting Kuina’s katana as she rushed toward him. “Bring reinforcements!”

Kuina ducked to avoid another slash, and was forced to roll to avoid being shot. She cursed as more men crawled out of the bowels of the ship like ants from an overturned hill. She disentangled herself from a block and cut down two more, managing to hamstrung a third before crossing blades with Buzz Cut once more.

“What are you doing?” he screamed. “We’re on the same side!”

“I don’t think we are,” Kuina said coldly. With a twist of her wrist she batted his sword aside and ran him through.

That was a mistake. Buzz Cut coughed bloody foam as he slumped to the ground, and it took Kuina too long to dislodge her sword from his body. She was forced to twist awkwardly to avoid the crushing blow of a weighted club, and doing so put her right in the path of another sailor’s saber.

Pure reflex saved Kuina from decapitation. She danced away from the saber, trying to keep herself in the middle of a crowd, using the threat of friendly fire to dissuade them from shooting. She was quickly surrounded, and a feral grin spread across her face. A distress flare shot into the night sky, burning boldly over the stolen ship.

This was it. This was where she belonged, with a blade in hand and nothing but her skill and fickle fortune between her from death. All the worry and anxiety of the last week melted away, replaced with pure bloodlust fueled by her fury.

“Gods above, she’s gone mad,” one of the sailors whispered, and the mixture of fear and awe like music to her ears.

It was the last thing she heard for a long time.

Xxx

Kuina came to her senses covered in blood that was not her own. She found herself standing over the Buzz Cut sailor, who was miraculously still alive, gasping erratically and frantically for air. Under the light of the moon the blood that bubbled out of the cut in his chest looked black. Pausing to flick the excess blood off her katana, Kuina kneeled beside him. He couldn’t die yet. Not when there was so much she didn’t know.

“Who hired you?” she asked calmly. “It’s not marines, or else they would have messaged Loguetown. Who’s paining you to murder little children.”

“You’re too late, bitch. Help is coming. Gemini will cut you down.” He looked weakly to the side and laughed. “They’re here already.”

Kuina followed his gaze. Soldiers were marching towards the ship, too many for any one person to deal with. Getting back to her feet, Kuina hurried to the brig. She had to shove aside a body before she could open it and lower the ladder.

“Do any of you know how to sail a ship?” Kuina called. To her surprise, the Tolouse refugees huddled in the corners, packed as close to one another as they could manage and refusing to move. Belatedly she realized they had no idea what happened other than what they’d overheard above. Drops of blood continued to drop down below.

“You’re safe,” she said. “None of them can hurt you, but you need to leave now.”

“And go where?” one asked. “I don’t know who you are, but the Revolutionaries who promised to get us to safety are dead.”

“And you’re about to join them if you don’t hurry up!” Kuina snapped. She looked over her shoulder. The soldiers were even closer now, and her energy was spent. A dozen shallow wounds slowed her movements, the blood loss making her vision hazy. And on top of it all, she had a pounding headache that would not stop.

“Look,” Kuina said to the terrified men and women below, “I can’t tell you where to go. No one, not even the Revolutionary Army, has the right to do that. But what I can do is buy you time to make that decision. For your sake, I hope it’s a quick one.”

She walked to the ship’s railing. The dying sailor laughed as she passed, and in a weak, sneering voice said, “What do you hope to accomplish, brat? They’ll be recaptured within the day. All you’ve done is prolong their execution.”

Kuina paused, looking down at the oncoming army, rage building once more as all the atrocities that she’d seen since arriving to Tolouse flashed through her mind: The bombing of the square, the fires, the desecration of the dead.

She remembered Danny and Azem, and the small, strong hands of the little boy grasping her neck. She remembered, and she felt the weight of unbalanced scales.

A life for a life. It was a saying that went both ways, and for the first time she thought she understood Aria de Gris’s desire to bloody some noses.

Kuina jumped down from the ship and landed in a summersault on the docks. Her arms trembled with fatigue and exhilaration as she raised her sword. She felt the heat and the smoke mix with the mists rolling off of the sea, obscuring the mass of bodies wearing the uniforms of the Tolouse army coming toward her.

Her blood hummed with anticipation. This was what she was made for. This was her purpose. Kuina couldn’t sail a ship. She couldn’t heal wounds or cook food or build ships or inspire others. But she could fight. She loved to fight, loved the synergy between body and blade. There was something beautiful testing her strength against another, her life hanging in the balance.

In the haze Kuina was almost invincible, striking down enemies before they knew she was there. Unlike the frenzied battle of the ship, this cat and mouse style suited the skills she’d honed over her years of bounty hunting.

The difference was she now had nowhere to retreat. Until the ship behind her set sail she couldn’t give up a single inch of ground. For the first time in her life, Kuina could not run.

And for the first time since she was eleven years old, Kuina felt alive.

It didn’t take long for the Tolouse army to retreat from the docks. Kuina couldn’t help but laugh as she caught her breath, allowing herself to believe for a brief moment that she’d won.

Then she heard orders being barked into snail phones, and in the distance saw the flash of matches being lit.

They had cannons.

Kuina jumped in the air in time to intercept the first shot with no thought other than to protect the ship behind her. She screamed as she slashed downward, cutting the iron cannonball neatly in two. The halves exploded on either side of her, momentarily filling the air with brilliant light.

She landed in a predator’s crouch, gasping for air. There was no time to process what she’d just done, because more shots followed the first, punctuated with the sharper fire of rifles.

Kuina cut a second cannonball just as easily as the first, but as she landed a third slammed into the docks behind her. Wood exploded, and the concussive blast of air threw Kuina onto the shore. The air was forced from her lungs, her katana thrown from her grasp. Kuina clasped her hands against her ears to stop the ringing, curled helplessly in a ball.

Get up!

She couldn’t. It hurt too much, and her body was too weak. Kuina dug her fingers into the sand and pushed, but there was nothing left for her to give.

You promised!

She’d promised a lot of things. She’d promised her father that she’d stay safe, and the refugees that she would buy them time, and herself that she would avenge the dead of Tolouse. Kuina had proven herself a liar time and time again. What chance did she have of fulfilling her promise to Zoro if she couldn’t manage something as simple as that?

So get up. Keep fighting.

Kuina groaned, a low, keening noise drawn directly from her soul. She rested her arms against the beach as the last of her strength bled from her limbs. Something brushed against her hand, and instinctively Kuina reached for it.

Her sword.

Kuina’s fingers wrapped around the wrapped leather handle. Was this how she wanted to die, like a dog beaten one too many times? Or would she fight with pride? With honor?

I’m going to be the greatest swordsman in the world, or die trying. Slowly Kuina rose to her feet. Decision made, there was nothing else to worry about. Nothing that required her to think. Bruised and bloody, Kuina raised her sword one last time just as the first rays of dawn spilled over the horizon.

The enemy came, and Kuina defeated them all. She didn’t care if they shot or stabbed at her. She didn’t care about anything at all.

The earlier bloodlust was gone, replaced with the mechanical, instinctive movements of a woman who’d spent her life learning to kill. The sun rose and the bodies multiplied, but Kuina didn’t stop. Cut by cut, slash by slash, the only thing that kept her moving was the strength of her ambition.

She didn’t know how long she lasted before she missed a parry, her opponent’s sword gliding against her arm. She stumbled back into the rising tide, her back hitting one of the few remaining posts of the splintered dock. It was the only thing that kept her upright as she ducked under the following slash. Blackness ate at the edge of her vision, her lungs burning for want of air. She knew she wouldn’t be able to raise her sword in time.

Her opponent looked just like all the rest, just another young man wearing the grey uniform of the Tolouse army. There was nothing to differentiate him from the hundreds of others she’d seen since the night began. And yet, he would be the one to kill her.

Kuina laughed at the absurdity of it all.

The man yelled as he swung his sword. Kuina closed her eyes and waited, smile still spread across her face. But instead of death there was only a choked scream and the sound of a full grown man falling into the water.

Kuina blinked her eyes open. A figure in full armor, helmet shaped like a roaring lion, pulled a thin blade from the young soldier’s back. Kuina blinked again as the rising sun glinted off the polished steel, seeing but not understanding.

Then she felt it, a presence like wind swirling around the eye of a hurricane. Whoever this person was, was the real deal. A true swordsman.

“Wanna fight?” Kuina gasped, drawing enough energy to spit a mouth full of blood into the sea before raising her sword.

“It’s over, kid. You did good.”

“Did...good?” Kuina tried to take a step forward, but her vision went sideways. The armored swordsman caught her before she hit the ground. When Kuina looked up again the helmet was gone, and she stared into the dark eyes of Aria de Gris.

“C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

#one piece #One Piece Fanfiction #creative-type writes #kuina #wake from death (and return to life)

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chroniclesofamber · 5 years

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THE CHRONICLES OF AMBER & History Lessons II

The first two books of Roger Zelazny’s Chronicles of Amber — Nine Princes in Amber and The Guns of Avalon — were written between 1967 and the early 1970s. The Vietnam War cast a long shadow from the 1960s into the first years of the next decade. In Nine Princes in Amber, for example, one of the most memorable episodes of action and conflict occurs in the seventh chapter:

“The sheets of light and heat flapped a steady, welling thunder as we ran, and the waves of warmth beat upon us, washed over us. Soon they were right there alongside us, and the trees blackened and the leaves flaked down, and some of the smaller trees began to sway. For as far ahead as we could see, our way was an alley of fires… We made it to the fork, though, beating out flames on our smoldering clothing, wiping ashes from our eyes… We ran through burning grasses… The interlocked branches of the trees overhead had become as the beams in a cathedral of fire…”

The Vietnam War was part of the nightly news back then. Stories and images of napalm and agent orange falling upon the jungles of Southeast Asia were current at the time and the quote above would have resonated in the American consciousness. But it was not just the horrors of war haunting America. There was also civil unrest and a rebellious younger generation ready to take up arms against the old guard who had nourished the conflicts and tensions leading to the strife stretching from the ’60s into the ’70s.

After the baptism of fire experienced by narrator and main character Corwin — which concludes with the provident arrival of riflemen trained and led by him to defend Amber and position him as the kingdom’s effective ruler — he finds himself at the top of a society struggling with an uneasy and temporary peace. Powerful foes have been unleashed upon the immortal city, and it looks like it may have been an inside job. In fact, it may even be that Corwin himself has provided unintended assistance to the enemy. This self-reflective attitude of examining one’s own role in the evils plaguing the world belonged very much to the troubling era which began with the assassination of President Kennedy and ended with the resignation of President Nixon.

SIGN OF THE UNICORN (1975)

History: The longest gap between the publication of any of the books of The Chronicles of Amber: three years. An air of defeat hangs over America, as well as over places beyond. The Club of Rome puts out its report “The Limits to Growth” and in 1974 the world population reaches four billion. The Apollo 13 failure of 1970 has left its mark, followed by a decline in support for the program dooming the final three missions to cancellation. Apollo 17 therefore sees the last men on the Moon in December of 1972, when one of the most popular photographs ever is taken — the iconic “Blue Marble” image of a nearly full Earth — and soon becomes an emblem of the environmental movement. In contrast to the “Blue Marble,” in the summer of ’72 the Pulitzer Prize-winning “Napalm girl” photograph makes headlines, and less than a year later the last U.S. soldier leaves Vietnam subsequent to the Paris Peace Accords. The war is over and the U.S. did not win it.

The war may be over, but deep problems remain — a description of the years during which Zelazny wrote Sign of the Unicorn, but also a description of the contents of the book itself. “The Troubles” — as the conflict in Northern Ireland comes to be called — of the United Kingdom undergo a rapid escalation: the British Army shoots dead 14 unarmed marchers on terrible Bloody Sunday; the British embassy in Dublin is burned down during rioting all over Ireland; bombs detonate in Whitehall and the Old Bailey; car bombs set by the Ulster Volunteer Force in Dublin and Monaghan kill 33 civilians and injure 300 others.

Meanwhile, a story just as big unfolds on the other side of the Atlantic: Five White House operatives are arrested for the burglary of the Democratic National Committee offices at the Watergate Hotel. Nixon orders special prosecutor Archibald Cox to be fired over his subpoena of recordings of incriminating White House conversations, but is eventually compelled by the Supreme Court to release the tapes. Impeachment proceedings underway, the public and even members of the Republican Party against him, Nixon resigns in August of 1974 and the unelected Vice President, Gerald Ford, becomes President. Likewise, Eric falls and Corwin steps in as the interim regent of an Amber reeling from war and internal strife, a state of affairs closely matching the condition of America as offered in Nixon’s resignation speech.

Lesson: Corwin finds himself the target of an attempt to frame him for the murder of Caine, his brother Gérard pummels him in a fight and dangles him over a cliff, he is nearly stabbed to death in his suite only hours after Brand is knifed in similar fashion, in the misty city of ghosts known as Tir-na Nog’th he is attacked and comes perilously close to plummeting to his death. In this context, the cautions of his sister Fiona regarding the dangers of wearing for too long the ultimate artifact of power, the Jewel of Judgment, take on new meaning. She warns it can kill him. The information possibly saves his life, as it persuades him to remove the Jewel when at the brink of death. The lesson is bigger than that, however. Corwin learns that power without knowledge or wisdom is dangerous and can be fatal, something which his brother Eric, as king, did not discover in time.

Journey: It all begins with Corwin’s discovery of a crime and a corpse, which leads straight to his learning of Random’s attempt to rescue Brand from his tower. And it ends with Corwin and Random, along with Ganelon, looking down upon the damaged Pattern (also the result of a crime, though they do not know that yet), just a day after Corwin’s meeting with a freshly rescued and recovered Brand. Crimes call out for investigation and from the first pages of the first book Corwin has played the detective. In the opening scene, Corwin has questions for Random and in the final scene he finally has some answers. Now he knows from his interview with Brand that there was a conspiracy by the red-haired faction to seize Amber’s throne, that Dara is descended from Chaos and intended for that throne, that a game has been in progress where he has been but a useful knight and where the broken Pattern before him is the board upon which it has been played.

Watergate, Painful Endings...

...and Perhaps Resurrections — the Mid-’70s

“The sun was that great orb of molten gold we had seen earlier. The sky was a deeper blue than that of Amber, and there were no clouds in it. That sea was a matching blue, unspecked by sail or island. I saw no birds, and I heard no sounds other than our own. An enormous silence lay upon this place, this day. In the bowl of my suddenly clear vision, the Pattern at last achieved its disposition upon the surface below. I thought at first that it was inscribed in the rock, but as we drew nearer I saw that it was contained within it—gold-pink swirls, like veining in an exotic marble, natural-seeming despite the obvious purpose to the design… A dark, rough-edged smudge had obliterated an area of the section immediately beneath us, running from its outer rim to the center.”

Dark times are depicted in Sign of the Unicorn amidst the darkest days of the Seventies. OPEC launches its oil embargo, soon doubling the price of crude, all just after the dollar has been devalued 10%. A recession affecting most of the world ensues, and the oil crisis does not wind down until 1974. Cults, destructive to themselves and often to others, appear in newspapers and on television. The Manson Family is sentenced, the Symbionese Liberation Army abducts and brainwashes heiress Patty Hearst, the Heaven’s Gate UFO cult is founded near San Diego.

Violent groups on the radical left, however, are increasingly foiled and contained: the Baader-Meinhof Red Army Faction is arrested; the Japanese Red Army, in decline after the Lod Airport attack, is defunct as an independent organization within a year of the attack; the Angry Brigade ends its run in a British courtroom.

At the same time, the political left makes gains: Labour’s Harold Wilson returns as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom; Helmut Schmidt of the Social Democratic Party becomes Chancellor of West Germany after a spy scandal brings down his predecessor; centrist Valéry Giscard d’Estaing succeeds Pompidou as President of France; the Carnation Revolution overthrows Portugal’s dictatorship and restores democracy; the Democratic Party logs historic victories in the House, Senate and state Governorships. The Old Bailey sees the first woman serve as a judge, the U.S. Congress sends the ERA to the states for ratification, women are finally admitted to Dartmouth College, the FBI hires women as agents for the first time, equal pay for women is mandated in Australia — liberal politics enjoys a resurgence during this period.

Whether intentional or not, the revolutionary red-haired cabal of Amber mirrors the restless idealists of the times, violent and otherwise, hoping to institute change. The overreach by forces on the right, responsible for the deaths of the Kennedys and Martin Luther King Jr., at last seems to come full circle with the resignation of Nixon and a national rejection of the authoritarian wielding of autocratic power. As already suggested, the hubris Eric demonstrates (like Nixon) in crowning himself king and regularly resorting to the most dramatic powers of the Jewel of Judgment brings him to his death on the slopes of Kolvir.

Eric has died, yet while Corwin and Brand both tread recklessly close to death they instead return bearing valuable new information — and, in one case, an enchanted mechanical arm — introducing the theme of resurrection and restoration. The Vietnam War at last is over, the crisis of the Nixon presidency has ended; the world is nowhere near out of the woods, but these events provide scope for respite and relief, and perhaps…hope? Vietnam and Watergate have together represented a perpetual storm cloud over America, a weight upon the world. The oil crisis has been harrowing, but soon leads directly to alternative energy R&D and long-needed improvements in automobiles. The world is still beset with sweeping, deep-seated problems, and the clouds have not truly cleared, but rays of hope are breaking through to shine on both beautiful inspirations and stark realities, much as the brilliant sun of the real Amber illuminates the broken Pattern in the final scene of Sign of the Unicorn.

“‘Then—looking for congruence—that would be about where our own Pattern lies,’ [Random said as we regarded the oval area of smooth, level rock].

‘Yes,’ I said again.

‘And that blotted area is to the south, from whence comes the black road.’

I nodded slowly as the understanding arrived and forged itself into a certainty.

‘What does it mean?’ he asked. ‘It seems to correspond to the true state of affairs, but beyond that I do not understand its significance. Why have we been brought here and shown this thing?’

‘It does not correspond to the true state of affairs,’ I said. ‘It is the true state of affairs.’”

[...to be continued in a future post...]

#chronicles of amber #roger zelazny #sign of the unicorn #the chronicles of amber #the seventies

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modosphere · 7 years

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and the story of us...: a dara drabble

The third (and penultimate) of the Dara wedding drabbles! Apologies for the delay, but I really didn’t want to cut this up further and I wanted to do it justice... Hopefully the ending will make up for it :)

Let me know what you think! Remember, I’m like Tinkerbell. I need applause to live.

- hen_bee xo

PS. riddled with errors, as I didn’t have time to proof read. I’m sorry!!

Dorothy & Michael Hintze Sculpture Gallery The Victoria & Albert Museum, London 2041 3 Days to Go

“You’re late.”

“I broke my phone.” Danyal murmured, shrugging on his blazer. If he noticed the outrage on Mara’s face, he didn’t show it… And as Mara continued to stare at him, she realised he wasn’t going to.

“And it didn’t occur to you to use any other device to let me know-”

“I’m here now.” Dany interrupted - and although he glanced up at her, it was only for a second, and paired with a brief, polite smile that let Mara know the conversation was over… If it had ever been one. “Shouldn’t we be outside?”

Before Mara had even opened her mouth to respond, Dany was already gone; through the smart, black double doors of the gallery, and beyond; into the square surrounded by beautiful, red-brick buildings with arches and carvings, the gallery pool in the middle.

The garden had been transformed for this; their registration-party-cum-brunch, the event marking the beginning of their wedding week. All of Danyal’s parents’ important business associates were in attendance and, as Mara had been reminded a million times (deliberately and not), acted as an introduction for Dany into the business life. He would start working with his father soon and, well, the Zafars’ business was a family affair, in every sense - and every one of the guests present were being reminded of that, notified of Danyal and Samara Zafar’s arrival onto the scene.

Samara Zafar. Mara’s stomach curled, nausea twisting and slithering its way up her throat in disgust.

Dany’s stag had overrun. He had been due to leave Vegas two days ago, at leisure, without cause for stress - and instead, for some dumbass reason or another, hadn’t left until the late hours of last night. Mara had been making excuses for him all morning - when she hadn’t even been given the courtesy of being told by Danyal what was going on in the first place.

“Dany-” Mara called out quietly - and though there was no way he couldn’t have heard her, he walked on, as if she’d never spoken.

Mara stood as still as she could for a moment, centring herself. She held her breath in her throat and, pretending she was looking idly at the pleasant scene before her, complete with classical music and the tinkling of glasses and polite conversation, rooted herself to the tiny spots on the floor where her heels connected to the ground.

That was the first time she and Danyal had spoken since… Everything. Since before he’d even left Pakistan.

Mara felt stupid for expecting anything different, for thinking he’d do anything but look right through her - and it hit her, then, that as much as she thought she’d accepted it, maybe she hadn’t. Maybe Danyal had heard her message and just… Not really cared.

She felt hollow.

Three more days and he won’t be allowed to make you feel like this anymore, Mara tried to tell herself.

Except feeling it wasn’t the problem. It was the fact Danyal had somehow snatched that opportunity from her in the first place, under the guise of friendship.

But so what? Right now, Mara had a role to play - and she was in too deep to back out now, and they both knew it.

So with a subtle shrug of her shoulders, Mara made sure her pleasantly neutral mask was fixed - and went back out to the crowd guests.

. . .

It was suffocating.

She felt like she was living in a dream; as time wore on, everything felt cartoonish. The smiles of the guests, the forced laughs, the… Excess of it all. The walls of the museum, enclosing the garden, felt like a wall - not to keep them in, but to keep everyone out, and Mara wondered whether, if people who wondered what kind of people hired a museum garden and gallery, who wore fancy designer clothes at brunches, would actually be able to stomach it at all.

Mara had never thought about it like that before. But she couldn’t unsee it - and now, she felt… Glad, to know that she wouldn’t be exposed to it for much longer. In fact, as Mara continued to talk so another faceless banker and her wife about honeymoon destinations and the stock exchange, Mara felt a surge of… Disgust at those around her.

It was a blessing, really. She just wanted to be… Away. And it was good to remember that, remember why she’d come up with this (admittedly) stupid plan in the first place - to find a way to be free. Because - and it as a whole concept, as a fully-formed sentence in her mind - hit her like a ton of bricks; this was her mother’s world. Maddie Kay’s world, filled with fake people and lies and clouds of perfume.

And yes, Mara didn’t think the Zafars were like that. But they were the exception, the strange exception, to an overwhelming rule; and they still belonged in this world. It was theirs, truly theirs, moulded how they wanted and that was… Too much, Mara realised. It was too uncomfortable, to know one family could do so much.

As Mara watched Dany from across the garden, speaking quietly in the corner with his father… She realised that he didn’t even know. Danyal Zafar existed in a world totally separate to 99.9% of the population, and Mara was on the other side of that fence. Her uncle wasn’t in this league. And even if he was close to it, Mara was his… Charity.

Maybe… Maybe if things were different. Maybe if they were both away from this all, things would be easier - Mara bit back a small smirk -, maybe they’d be doing as Dany’s family wanted, maybe they’d fall in love and everything would fall into place. But they wouldn’t. They… Couldn’t. Even when they were standing side by side, like they had been back inside the gallery, Mara realised that the hollowness she’d felt was a world still standing between them.

Mara felt a pang of satisfaction, though, as a small voice reminded her - Divya doesn’t belong here either.

A pang of satisfaction immediately followed by a fresh surge of resentment and then… Surprisingly… Hurt. Because Divvy Kapoor, a girl whose mere name had Mara instinctively rolling her eyes, that was who she was losing to -

Mara blinked, her mask slipping for a moment. Losing to? Losing what, exactly…?

She was tired. She was losing her goddamn mind. And so she made her excuses and, pretending to continue to talk to those on the peripherals of the red-bricked square, made her way to the doors; before slipping into one of the double doors leading back into the gallery.

Mara felt an overwhelming urge to run as she did - but, giving one of the wait-staff a quick, polite smile as they made eye-contact through the glass, Mara figured it wasn’t exactly subtle. She needed a breather. She wasn’t going to get that if the entire garden thought she was getting cold feet.

There it was again - that surge of… Negativity, the overwhelming feeling of being trapped.

Mara took a deep breath - before looking at her surroundings. The chequered floor, the beautiful mix of sculptures, the well-lit museum shop, filled with books on design and art and fashion, tucked away at the top of the small set of stairs in the corner.

There are worse places to be trapped, she reasoned.

Glancing out to the party again, Mara realised that the tents acting as a stock for the canapés and drinks obscured some of the gallery from view - and, with a quick sigh of relief, Mara quickly moved further down the gallery… Until the tents were all but obscuring her from view.

Sighing in relief, Mara leant back and closed her eyes, her bare shoulders brushing the pillar behind her.

She enjoyed that solitude for a few moments. The sudden quiet of the gallery, the peace of only seeing the darkness of her eyelids.

When she finally opened her eyes, looking straight ahead, Mara found herself raising her eyebrows at the sculpture in front of her.

Well, if it could be called that. It was more like some sort of… Carving, but clearly more than that, set up on the wall above a fake fireplace. On the edges, crowds of people watched, aghast, at the figures in the middle; a naked couple, kissing passionately.

Intrigued, Mara pulled her earphones and phone out of her pocket (which she’d had the good sense to keep on her) and slowly walked over, already drowning out the sound of her heels by the time she had reached it.

The first song to start playing had immediately been loud and upbeat - and, irritated at the disruption, Mara quickly chose another song from her playlist; slow, based on the piano and a duet.

She looked back up at the sculpture, before glancing over at the plaque beside it.

‘Harry Bates - 1850-99 War 1887’

She didn’t bother reading anymore. Although it wasn’t exactly cool to admit at dance practice or during business classes, Mara loved art. She loved the subjectivity of it, how you could feel the raw emotion put into something real that you could see and touch and still feel. An annoying plaque telling her about technique or historical context just ruined the initial magic.

They were both barefoot, the couple - and hopelessly entwined, almost desperately so, in a way that had Mara tilting her head and feeling slightly… Sad. One of his hands cupped her neck, the other under her arm, keeping her twisted to face him; and as one of her hands motioned for the crowd behind them to go away, to be ignored, the other clutched onto the arm holding his neck, keeping them locked together.

There was something… Brutal about it. Desperate. Angry.

I hate you, I love you, I hate that I want you, you want her, you need her, but I’ll never be her…

Mara flinched slightly at the song in her ears - and she quickly blinked away the embarrassing tears that suddenly threatened to spill down her face for no reason, as Mara realised that she was… Jealous of the woman in the sculpture. A figment of someone’s imagination. Someone not even real.

But the woman in the sculpture was wanted. It didn’t matter about the crowds jeering, how she was motioning for them to keep away - because there was also something nonchalant about it, like she didn’t care, because she was too caught up in that kiss. Because that man was her anchor, and she was his, and they were constant and Mara didn’t have anyone, not anyone, in her life who felt like that to her. Or, who felt that… Right.

And yes, her daddy issues were not the same as the issues of the couple in the sculpture in front of her, but it was… Resonating, somehow. Changing the song, Mara stepped closer, looking up at the couple; and it was truly beautiful, the detail - she could feel it, feel how much they needed each other, how it was about survival and love and feeling the need to be safe, more than two naked people engulfed in lust.

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds - but to Mara, it felt like hours, and she stared so long and so hard at it, something aching inside of her at the scene before her, that by the time she turned away, it felt like if she hadn’t, she’d have burned.

Mara swayed slightly as soul began to play in her ears, and she looked at the two options before her - the part of the gallery she’d already glimpsed, by the doors, or this other side - slightly darker from the tents covering the window and with less traffic. When she’d stood with Dany she’d caught busts and marble casket coverings, as well as large, impressive sculptures of struggling men and beautiful women… But looking to the other side, Mara felt her eyebrows raise at the fewer, scattered sculptures in front of her… Including a naked male torso, caught in the corner of Mara’s vision.

Intrigued, Mara walked over.

She smirked to herself once it was in front of her. It was a torso, a very nice, male torso, lacking a head and forearms and cutting off suggestively a few centimetres down from the top of the thighs - just enough to see the beginning of an, erm, important anatomical feature.

The torso was lean, and muscular, and ripped in a way that boasted a six pack of abs without being vulgar; and as Mara’s fingertips traced the bumps on the severed neck, along the shoulders and down the bicep (there weren’t any signs saying she couldn’t), and Mara genuinely applauded the smoothness of the stone (yes, just that! Artistic appreciation!), she couldn’t help but find it… Familiar.

It hit her, as her fingertips reached the jagged edge of where the arm cut off - it was familiar.

The morning after the night they’d spent at Sean’s party at the water-park; when they’d woken up, half asleep, in Samara’s bath-tub with her uncle knocking at the door. Once Mara had managed to convince him everything was fine - and there definitely wasn’t a boy, let alone the likes of Danyal Zafar, in her room -, Mara, too lazy to do much else, had turned on the taps despite where they still sat. Mara had still been wearing a neon bikini underneath her denim shorts and the baggy white tank top; so she’d sleepily fumbled out of them. Dany, on the other hand, had still been fully dressed - and, dozing until it was too late, had stayed that way in resignation. His white T-shirt had clung to his chest, sticking to the hollows that seemed to follow… A very similar outline to the chest Mara was currently looking at.

Of course, she’d pretended she hadn’t noticed. To him, or to herself.

Her fingers curling slightly in… Discomfort at the thought, Mara pulled her fingers back. Before she could help it (and as much as she didn’t want to see it), a flurry of mental images launched themselves into her mind. Confusing mental images, ones she didn’t want to see.

Ones that made her feel sick. Ones of Divvy caressing Dany’s naked chest - and then of the two of them, entwined back in New York, Dany falling in love while Divvy screwed with his mind… Amongst other things.

Mara glanced around, her eyes desperately looking for something else to focus on. She didn’t have to look for long; because slightly further down, near to the sweeping staircase at the bottom gallery, was another sculpture.

“Someone was feeling frustrated.” Mara muttered to herself, smirking slightly - before walking over.

It was a butt, a nice butt, and seemingly a woman’s butt, judging by the curves of the rest of her body. Like the previous one, it was headless, and only showed a small part of one arm; but it was less… Raw than the other. More seamless, more perfect.

It was one of the larger sculptures and, unlike the other, left little to the imagination - it showed from midway down the thighs, and everything that included, up to the neck. Mara smirked slightly as she saw the male torso, its muscled back and the beginning of a very cute butt of its own, now facing her - before shaking her head and glancing up at the other. Mara was genuinely impressed. The curves were so smooth.

The model must have also been super hot.

… Both of them.

But her smirk faded as she began to appreciate the art for what it was; for the adoration she could feel behind it, the love she could feel for this woman from the sculptor, even if just her body.

This time, she wasn’t sad, or overwhelmed by it. She liked it. This sculptor probably hadn’t even loved the model in that way. Maybe there hadn’t been a model at all. But the magic had worked, the lie had worked, and in a weird kind of way, Mara took comfort from everyone’s lies feeling like a universal truth.

That was how Dany found her. Looking pensively up at the sculpture, a small smirk playing on her lips and her hips swaying slightly as she listened to music from her old-fashioned wired earphones.

Dany hadn’t wanted to look at her.

Vegas had meant blissful ignorance; Vegas had meant peace of mind in the form of distraction; Vegas had included millions of excuses to not face it all, including Danyal’s phone being lost during a nasty paint-balling accident. And yes, he could have called anyway - through a million different channels. But he hadn’t wanted to.

He’d thought that the two of them not speaking would provide him with clarity. Less worrying about her feelings, less taking on responsibilities that weren’t his.

But as each day had gone on without hearing from Samara, without any further bids from her to contact him… Dany had found it… Harder. And all of a sudden, as he watched her look up at the sculpture - looking… Beautiful in the muted daylight of the gallery -, Dany realised it wasn’t Mara who was the problem. It wasn’t her emotions that were forcing him to feel guilty.

He was doing that all on his own.

He hadn’t wanted to see her when he’d walked in, late. He’d wanted her to be angry at him, to ignore him, because, Dany realised, deep down he knew he couldn’t ignore her on his own. But the moment his plan had worked… Dany had found himself at a loss, seeking her out in the crowd at every opportunity.

Maybe he was just starved of female attention, after Vegas. Maybe…

When he’d seen her in the gallery, quickly slipping out of sight of the windows and behind the tents, Dany had found his feet moving before he could stop himself. He wanted to talk to her. Be around her.

It’s what you’re used to. That’s all, Dany tried to tell himself - but even privately, it didn’t sound convincing.

Although it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, to Dany, it felt like longer, and, enjoying Mara’s obliviousness at her audience, he enjoyed the view. She really did look beautiful - and even to Dany, it was shocking, to hear the… Sincerity, in his own thoughts.

Mara was in a white, tapered jumpsuit that, aside from the off-shoulder detail and knot-type pattern on the front, was plain white and lacked sleeves. Her dark hair fell past her bare shoulders in loose waves and to a layman, her face looked almost natural - but Dany knew her eyebrows didn’t really look that dark, and that her lips - her mouth, a small part of Dany’s brain fell to the gutter again - weren’t such a dark, neutral pink. In silver strappy heels, showing black nails on display, she was practically the same height as Dany.

I want to kiss her, Dany thought suddenly - and he swallowed loudly, his eyes widening, as he heard it inside of his head. I want her to want me to kiss her.

That was when Mara’s eyes met his own.

For a second, Dany actually felt… Terrified, because, for a moment, it was like she’d read his mind.

But then it was gone, and she couldn’t have, and the quickly neutral expression only confirmed it - because Dany knew Mara too well by now to think that expression was truly neutral.

“We should be outside.” Dany suddenly blurted.

… What?

Mara wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion, before yanking one of the earphones away. Even from the distance between them, Dany could hear a distant rhythm.

“I’m sorry?”

“We should be outside.” Dany repeated, swallowing and deciding to stick to his convictions - even if they were completely random and stupid. Mara shook her head slightly - why?

Dany simply stared blankly at her.

“I’m looking at the art.” Mara finally said simply, rolling her eyes slightly as she turned away from him - and paused, before walking over to a small sculpture in the corner.

Dany walked forwards slightly to take a look, still a fair distance away; but his eyes immediately zoned in on how Mara seemed to stiffen as she reached it - a small, nondescript sculpture of what looked like a mother and her baby, the mother holding the baby close.

Dany watched, confused, as Mara’s eyes seemed to… Glisten, for a moment - but then she was turning angrily on her heel and about to walk straight past him, her eyes trained on the ground - and it was at that moment that, again, on impulse when impulse wasn’t something Dany really understood, he grabbed her wrist before she could.

“Let go of me.”

Dany frowned. “What’s wr-”

“I said let go.” Mara hissed - but Dany didn’t. He didn’t and, even though his grip wasn’t very tight - it was gentle and loose and easily broken - Mara glared up at him, unmoving, his fingertips grazing against the inside of her wrist.

What happened next was… Odd. For both of them.

It was… It was something neither one of them had felt before or, if they had, it was the first time they knew it. They were pulled towards one another and even though there was an entire gap of space between them, it felt as if they were only millimetres away - and although Mara’s wrist writhed, it was all an act, and, unable to help himself, Dany’s fingers only tightened; but his grip was still soft, as were his eyes, as the two stared at each other.

Something… Unnameable flickered across Danyal’s expression.

Mara tried to hide her fear.

Quickly, in the hopes it would be too quick for Danyal to notice, her eyes dropped to her wrist; and then to her surroundings, for something else to look at other than Dany’s dark eyes and thick, black eyelashes.

So her eyes followed the chequered floor to the wall; and then up the wall, to the nearest piece of artwork she could find… The couple. The couple twisted towards one another, their limbs entwined.

She felt like a statue. Like one of the pieces of art on display.

You’re that vulnerable, a horrified voice inside of her head told her. She thought of the naked busts behind her, too, the ones she’d admired. You made yourself that vulnerable with one phone call and it’s all your own fault.

How could she blame her parents for not wanting her? For not wanting to even give her a chance? Every time she thought she had a situation under control… She screwed up.

Mara began to feel that familiar tingle in the tip of her nose, felt the slow build of pressure behind her eyelids. No. She would not cry in front of him. She would not give him the satisfaction of appearing… Weak. Desperate for attention, like every other girl who threw themselves at him. That’s probably what he thought. That the phone call had been some lame attempt to - to -…

Because he didn’t see them as friends. Dany had made that abundantly clear before leaving for Vegas. She was just… A means to an end, a cog in his grand machine to own the entire world and everything in it, to put everything in his perfect little bubble of life - a perfect bubble Mara didn’t belong in because she wasn’t perfect, she was some sort of defect in that little world, broken and messy and wrong whereas Divvy Kapoor got a pass because she’d been the first inside his pants.

… And just as Mara’s face began to redden slightly from anger, mixed in with other feelings that were too tangled for her to try and understand, Dany swallowed loudly.

Mara in heels meant that her mouth was… Closer, than usual.

I want her to want me to kiss her. That’s what he’d thought. Was that wrong? Was that just him being… Danyal Zafar, in the way everyone expected him to be? Dany didn’t know. He’d never had to before.

“We should be outside.” Mara finally murmured, after what felt like a lifetime - and as she gently pulled her wrist away, Dany opened his mouth to speak, only to find that he didn’t have the words.

He had no choice but to let her go.

Danyal almost cursed out loud as he felt that horrible knot in his stomach and chest again as he watched her go; and it stopped him from speaking, from forming coherent thoughts, even as he saw Mara hesitate by the doors… Before squaring her shoulders, and walking out without a second glance.

For a moment, Dany just stood there. Completely gormless, just… Standing there, not sure what to do or say or think.

He slowly turned, sighing to himself - before pausing, upon his eyes falling on a sculpture on the wall.

A couple, kissing amidst a crowd.

Dany rolled his eyes slightly - before following Mara back to the crowd.

. . .

The rest of the day passed Mara in a blur.

She just wanted it to be over. She wanted it all to be over - this stupid facade, the lies, the ones she told herself. That Dany was her friend. That somehow, they’d become close enough for him to really care about how she was.

At least, she kept trying to tell herself that. Over and over; as she sat in her brightly coloured finery, her makeup as suitably black as her mood; as she glumly placed her chin on her knees between forced, polite smiles at all of the guests who were important enough to be a part of the wedding, but not really important enough to gain an invite to the main event; as she and Danyal managed to play the perfect, in love couple from across the room without looking at each other at all.

The Ham Yard Hotel SoHo, London 2 Days to Go

Mara grit her teeth, using all of her strength to pull herself upwards towards her knees - and then again, as the beat of an old techno-pop song played obnoxiously loudly in her ears.

She kept going, not caring how she’d wince and grunt with each push. Sweat trickled from the base of her thick hair, down her neck and past her collar bone, into the valley in her sports bra. She was red and sweaty and out of breath; but still, she kept moving, even as her body ached.

Good. She wanted it to ache; to make her wince every time she moved by tomorrow. She wanted to be so sore that it was all she could think about - that the days after the wedding would no longer be related to this whole, stupid charade, but just be another random day that just so happened to mean her muscles would stop working… And she wouldn’t be around the Zafars any longer.

One of them in particular.

Scowling at her reflection, seen between her legs with each push-up, Mara scowled.

Today was her day off; no more couple-y bullshit, for at least another twelve hours… Because Danyal had a fancy dinner with his friends this evening - his Oxford friends, the oh-so-important and busy ones that hadn’t made it out to his stag. A Goodbye Dany dinner, Raj had called it.

Mara rolled her eyes, hissing, as she completed another push-up.

Technically, she too was having some sort of… Event. Honestly, it was becoming… Suffocating. Ari was being so nice and even if she’d explained why, it made Mara feel uncomfortable.

They’d done so much… Nice stuff. Cool stuff. Stuff Mara enjoyed. Baking classes at Cordon Bleu, movie nights at rooftop cinemas that came with gourmet meals, late-night exhibitions. Pixie had managed to get them backstage tickets to the Royal Ballet, the one type of dance Mara had always wished she could master but had never had the guts to try. It had been great. A secret tour of London at night, a retro-themed party atop a capsule on the London Eye, in homage to Mara’s love of all things vintage.

It was suffocating.

Whether Ari was grateful or not about Mara helping her brother, it was too much. Too much. In a few days, Mara was going to walk away from Ari and her entire family and, according to Dany, never to be seen or spoken to again. How was Mara meant to pay them back?

Of course, Ari’s argument was probably that it was all a gift. But Mara had never exactly been around giving people - and so it just felt like a debt, hanging over her head.

Mara was just shaking her head at the amount of money she probably owed the Zafars - the use of their jet, their trip to Monte Carlo, Ari’s lavish bridal party - when she paused, puzzled, to find a pair of expensive blue Nikes between her black workout ones.

Mara jerked her head back in surprise as, following the trainers - ones she recognised -, Ari yanked out her earphones.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Ari huffed - before, much to Mara’s confusion, she proceeded to hoist Mara up from the floor. Too stunned to do anything else, Mara automatically steeled her legs to take some off some of her weight.

“It’s not even six in the morning.” Mara muttered, glancing at the clock… And shaking her head again, as she registered Ari’s outfit. Sports leggings, a T-shirt sporting the inspired slogan of coffee not toffee and no makeup, her hair scraped back into a bun.

“Exactly! We still have time to get dressed and I brought you fresh clothes, in case you were in the pool.” Ari said happily, thrusting a pink duffel bag in Mara’s direction. Mara simply stared at her blankly. “Come on! At least you’re all warmed up, any longer and we’ll be late!”

“For what?” Mara demanded. “It’s not even six-”

“I heard you the first time, would you just please get changed and we’ll discuss it later?”

The two girls stared at each other.

“You’re so like your brother sometimes.” Mara sighed, rolling her eyes - and taking the bag.

“Thank you!” Ari told her cheerfully.

Turning away, Mara sighed.

“It wasn’t a compliment.” She muttered to herself.

. . .

An hour later, and Mara found herself at… A rave.

A very specific type of rave.

It was called a morning rave; consisting of clean, green breakfasts and a smoothie bar, wherein one would start their day with a yoga class and following dance party. It was insane. Mara had walked into a nondescript city building during the dim daylight of the morning… And found a room stuffed with bright colours, large balloons, too much confetti and pounding dance music.

It wasn’t fancy, or expensive, or a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But it was completely mad.

And that was exactly what Mara needed… Especially when the DJ announced it was a 2010’s music throwback.

“How did you know?” Mara tried to shout over the music, as the beat began to kick up.

Ari shook her head, motioning to her ear.

“How-” Mara shook her head, before pulling out her phone and tapping out the message - How did you know?, before showing Ari the screen.

Pixie snatched it before Ari could reply.

Because we’re not as stupid as Dany, her reply read.

Mara knew Pixie meant that in a million ways - and possibly Ari, too. But in that moment, she didn’t care. She allowed herself to not have to worry about what anyone thought, or what anyone was thinking - and that was when she realised that that was their little morning trip’s whole point.

Dany was just finishing his run, when he saw Raj exiting from the front door. He seemed to be watching something with grave concentration - a video, Dany could hear loud music even with the distance between them - and did not at all seem amused.

“You look happy.” Dany commented as a way of greeting. Raj grunted. “What’re you looking at?”

“You haven’t seen it?” Raj mumbled, not looking up. Dany shook his head - but realising Raj wasn’t looking, quickly explained.

“My phone’s meant to arrive this morning.”

The prospect of being without technology somehow managed to steal away Raj’s attention.

“You’ve been without it for this long?” He muttered, aghast. Dany shrugged - before Raj handed him his own phone. “Here.”

Dany’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at what he saw.

Pixie, Ari and Mara; the three of them only, Mara’s cousins nowhere in sight. Of course, that wasn’t necessarily the surprising part.

Pixie held the camera as they danced; Pixie in yoga pants and a jumper, Ari in leggings and a T-shirt and Mara in leggings and a white-tank top, one where Dany could still clearly make out her black sports bra underneath, even under the flashing, bright lights. Mara’s face was red, as was the others’ - and aside from neon markings dotted across their faces (light splashes on Ari’s face, bright lips on Pixie and neon stripes on Mara’s cheeks), they wore no makeup, and were red and slightly sweaty. They were dancing - the camera shook as Pixie’s hand did - and singing loudly. The music was so loud that Dany could see Raj’s phone vibrating slightly as it played.

There were three clips - the first of the three of them dancing goofily at the camera, laughing, as the song began to play; another as Pixie and Mara downed what looked like shot glasses, captioned ginger shots and Mara gagging as Pixie laughed, unfazed by the burn; and a third that, once over, Dany immediately replayed.

It was Ari and Mara; Ari dancing and singing with her eyes closed, looking somewhat melancholic, and Mara, raving hard - trying to follow the movements of her high ponytail made Dany slightly dizzy -, with what looked like a… Smoothie cup in her hand.

The music started slow, before picking up to a loud, angry beat.

Where were you? ‘Cause I can’t see, but I feel you watching me… Dilated, falling free, in a modern ecstasy…

Pixie appeared at the bottom of the screen, laughing and singing along as Ari and Mara began to yell the lyrics at each other - Mara almost angrily, Ari almost sadly, but both of them full of energy and screaming.

I’m over the show, at least now I know - it wasn’t love, it was a perfect illusion…

Dany snorted, snatching Raj’s phone - and immediately texting Mara’s phone, paying no mind to the conversation clearly shared between Raj and Mara above the typing section.

If I were more insecure a fiance, I’d be worried - D x. He hit send.

Dany continued to smirk slightly as Raj hit replay, frowning beside him - but it quickly disappeared as Dany noticed something at the end and, before Raj could open his mouth to comment, hit replay again.

“Yeah.” Raj muttered absently, as they both leant in, concentrating on the screen. “Exactly.”

Dany was about to ask what Raj was talking about - until his words stopped in his throat, as he realised Mara wasn’t wearing her engagement ring.

Up until that moment, Dany had been fine. Amused, even. Mara was having fun, he knew Ari was safe. Ginger shots were not the most dangerous thing the girls could’ve been drinking. Even seeing the two of them dance; Dany knew Mara would get more attention, simply because of that… Energy (and the form-fitting, yet somehow effortless effect of the tank top) that she had, and that didn’t matter because… Well, it hit him in that moment. It hadn’t mattered, because Mara would’ve been wearing her engagement ring.

At first, Dany quickly became annoyed. This video was available to anyone who knew the three of them on social media. It was reckless. Why would a happy bride-to-be go out two days before her wedding, without a wedding ring? Although a small part of Dany’s mind had immediately reasoned that there were a plethora of sensible reasons for Mara to not wear it to… Wherever she was (sweat, the dark, etc), he quickly ignored it. He didn’t like it.

… And then Dany realised why.

And then Dany realised why Mara would be so reckless - even if she’d thought he’d not see it, with his lack of phone - and, as if struck by lightning, remembered the voice message he’d tried so hard to forget in Vegas. Apparently, he’d been a bit too successful.

“I’ll catch you later.” Dany muttered, all but running into the house - and ignoring Raj’s protests behind him.

Meanwhile, in the middle of a song called Bad Romance - that Mara head-banged to with a particular enthusiasm - her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pausing to glance at the screen, Mara’s eyes rolled so far back into her head at the message, that for a moment, she almost saw her brain.

She turned off her phone after that - and returned to the song with particular gusto.

. . .

By the time the rave was over - and, for the rest of the city, when their days began - Mara’s phone was dead, from the stupid amount of evidence she’d taken of herself actually… Having fun.

It had probably been a good thing her phone had ran out of battery; she was likely to just stare forlornly at it, thinking of all she was going to lose in a few days. A family. Friends. People who understood it.

Except, that wasn’t strictly true. And whilst Mara didn’t blame Ari, or Pixie, or anyone else associated with or part of the Zafar clan, for the actions she’d chosen to take (… with the exception of maybe Danyal) she couldn’t help but feel… Cheated. Angry. Perhaps even a bit jealous; and those were all things Mara didn’t want to think.

Mara had been dreading it, hoping that, when the time came, she’d be able to wish it away; that inevitable moment, when she relaxed and stopped thinking for long enough… That all of a sudden, she was living in fast-forward.

The Sunken Gardens, Kensington Palace Kensington, London 1 Day to Go

It was happening before Mara even had time to blink.

She purposefully avoided her phone - even when it was fully charged and flashing at her, filled with messages and notifications and alerts about her upcoming nuptials. She didn’t even flick through the many files she’d sent of herself yesterday of her, Pixie and Ari having fun the day before. It was… Too much. All of it. And being constantly reminded of that wasn’t going to do her any good.

Mara was in a pensive mood as the day went on; a day where she was largely left to her own devices, as the Zafars and her own family - if she could even call it that - prepared for the evening ahead. The last event before the wedding - the mehndi, the proper one, the one for family and fun. Dany wouldn’t be there - and he would be the only one.

For that, Mara was supremely grateful. In (yet again) a super pathetic kind of way, it felt… Good. Final. Like a nice parting before everyone went to shit and either had to pretend to hate her, for the sake of Dany and Divvy, or actually hate her.

So by the time early evening rolled around, and the sun was warm and lazy in the sky, Mara felt… Okay.

And then she saw it.

The Sunken Gardens of Kensington Palace; a giant rectangle of greenery, filled with other rectangles of brightly coloured flowers, with a fountain in the middle… And giant, bright umbrellas and cushions by the fountain for shade, with petals in the pool. Fairy lights were already strung in all of the bushes, ready to be lit, as well as rainbow-coloured lanterns hanging above them - and at the head of the fountain, a small canopy with its orange curtains tied back by pink and orange bouquets; and a comfy set of armchairs, of which one was hers.

Mara couldn’t help how her eyes immediately swelled with tears. She didn’t have the incentive of ruining her eyeliner or whatever - she was bare-faced, in preparation for the stupid amount of oil and weird creams about to be smeared on her face in the name of beauty (and the amusement of her guests).

“I’m going to miss this.” Mara mumbled, smiling slightly, and more so to herself than her aunt and Danyal’s mother beside her.

“What, the excitement of getting married?” Her aunt asked, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Mara hid her smile as she saw Pixie and Ari share an agitated look.

“No.” She told her aunt coolly. “Being pleasantly surprised.” Because God knew, she’d had enough unpleasant ones lately.

That was the real moment. The proper one. The one where Mara realised just how much she was leaving behind - and, as she stepped towards the bright orange armchair calling her name, Mara really, sincerely hoped that Dany thought Divya Kapoor was worth it.

. . .

By the time the sun was setting, it were as if the rest of Mara’s week had been a bad dream. The lies. The isolation. The loneliness. The helplessness, of knowing so much of it was her fault, simply because of who she was, of how she existed.

The music was obscenely loud and Mara had been impressed to find a stage of sorts had been set up, at the top of the small set of stairs leading down into the garden from the main palace entrance; and it was like a dream, as Mara laughed and cheered and made stupid jokes as her friends and family made her smile.

Even the infamously moody Tara Zafar managed to have fun; and Mara yelled so loudly in approval at her final surprise, of a small performance by Ari, Raj and Pixie in front of everyone, that her throat felt hoarse.

She also waggled her eyebrows in a very obvious way, at how Ari and Raj shared a secret smile after Raj, between both girls and loosely holding their hands, took a bow… And knew there was nothing Ari could do but subtly glower, seeing as they were both in public.

Mara ate too much, too. She didn’t think about how her clothes were white, or how she was probably burning a bit too pink from the heat, or how greasy her hair was probably going to become with everyone wanting to chuck oil into it so it’d be shiny for tomorrow - or even why she was there. She just enjoyed it. The breeze, the lights of the palace glittering up in front of them… The smell of flowers and jasmine candles mixed with samosas and mango yoghurt milkshakes and henna drying on her hands.

All of her cousins danced; some goofily, some theatrically. Even Kabir joined in; he and Ari did a small comedy skit together, where Ari pretended to be their brother and Kabir was a very convincing Samara.

Divya had meant to be doing something, a proper performance from her and TJ’s new movie - but halfway through the night, she saw Raj and TJ talking urgently with each other, where they thought they were out of sight. Even that didn’t bother her. If anything, she was more than happy to cheer her old friend on his own.

Mara loved every moment; but each one was gone too soon, until the sky was dark above them and the doors to the palace’s main hall were open, ready for everyone to move.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Mara glanced up and smiled, as she saw Kabir grinning down at her.

“I am.” She promised - before motioning with her still-wet hands for Kabir to come over. “Help me up. I just want to clear my head for a few minutes before everyone goes for my hair again.”

Kabir cackled to himself, helping Mara to stand by the elbows so as to not smudge her henna.

“You sure you won’t be long?” Kabir asked, beginning to move goofily to the loud, Punjabi party music playing from inside.

Swaying in time with him, making them both grin, Mara nodded. Kabir snorted.

“You look like a puppet.” He muttered, motioning to how Mara had to keep her hands straight, so as to avoid smudging.

Mara raised an eyebrow. “That’s because I am one.” She pointed out dryly - and although it didn’t bother her to say it, not in the slightest, Kabir frowned.

She didn’t understand why. It had just been a joke - a funny one, she’d thought - but just as she opened her mouth to somehow try and take it back, Kabir spoke again.

“Can’t you guys just get married?” Kabir pouted - and Mara felt her chest freeze, her throat closing off before she could breathe. “You know, just - ignore the fact you’d be married to him. We’d hang out all of the time!”

It hit her like a fucking double decker bus. Literally. Every bone in her body ached and her eyes filled up with too many tears for her to blink away, out of nowhere - because this person, this one person actually wanted her to stay. Wanted to be around her, for everything she already was. This… Boy. When nobody else did.

And it felt so good to just be wanted and cared for for once - but it was such a new feeling, that all of the horrible thoughts and doubts that had been plaguing her, the ones she’d managed to forget, suddenly felt like they were crushing her and Mara felt her knees physically begin to wobble. Because she just wanted to drop to the floor and cry.

One person. One person, of all of the people in her life, of the stupid, long list of contacts in her phone and the people who posted fire emojis under her selfies; out of all of those people, there was one person, one kid, who actually gave a shit.

And even that was probably wrong! He was Danyal’s brother. He was probably just being charming and a bit sentimental. But Mara allowed herself to fall for it, because - well, who else did she have to help her kid herself?

Kabir’s face dropped - and quickly became horrified - as he watched Mara wipe away a tear with her forearm.

“I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“You didn’t, you idiot!” Mara admonished, shaking her head - and beaming at him, this little idiot, who was now staring at her as if she’d just landed off’ve a flying saucer. “Listen. Forget your idiot brother - whatever happens, you call me, okay?”

It had meant to come out lighthearted.

It didn’t.

It made Mara smile through the tears, though - to see as Kabir nodded seriously.

“You’re not going to start crying hysterically or anything if I leave you out here, right?” He asked dubiously, making Mara laugh again as she sniffled. “Because I don’t feel so good about leaving you here now-”

“If you don’t live,” Mara said sweetly. “I’m going to tell everyone you made me cry. Leave me in peace.”

Kabir sighed, rolling his eyes - but Mara laughed slightly as he smiled, and nodded once, before heading back inside. A boy. A literal kid understood her sense of humour more than… Anyone in her life currently did.

With a gusty sigh, Mara squatted, until comfortably low enough to drop her butt to the floor. Pulling her knees to her chest, Mara let the tips of her shoes hover over the water, her chin tucked into her knees and her arms resting out by her sides.

She watched the petals floating in the dim water, nodding her head slightly to the song playing from inside. A duet, a party song and, of course - a love song.

It was an old song, a very old song, and Mara shook her head to herself at the cheesy lyrics - the guy was telling the girl of his affections to stare deeply into his eyes -, but nonetheless, she couldn’t help but sing along as she replied - do something to make me yours.

Mara’s smile faded again as the song continued cheerily, so mismatched to the pensive, troubled expression of her reflection.

She shuddered slightly to herself, though not quite from the cold, as the breeze wafted by.

Kabir had broken the spell. It wasn’t his fault. He’d just been… Being honest. It was not his fault that Mara was such a steaming mess.

Mara blinked slowly. Such a steaming, horrible, messy mess.

The song continued behind her and Mara just… Sat there, smelling the jasmine. She wanted to go back inside, she did. She didn’t want the evening to end.

But whether that was because she was just having fun, or because she just didn’t want to face tomorrow… She didn’t know. And even though she was enjoying the silence, even though it was refreshing to just sit uninterrupted and think without having to fake a million expressions, she didn’t want to think about what she was.

She just felt so… Unsettled! And she didn’t understand. This was what she wanted. And Danyal definitely wanted it - so why was she sitting here, feeling bad? Feeling… Lost? It was the same plan it had always been. Beneficial to them both, so why, why now, was she doubting all of it? Yeah, it seemed more stupid than it had before, but nothing had changed. How could anything have changed…?

Because now, if she was being serious, if she was being honest - and sitting there, amongst the flowers and the trees and the colourful lights, it felt like the perfect place to be - her heart didn’t skip into a million beats whenever Danyal walked into the room. Not ever. Not once.

But she felt… Something.

Mara exhaled slowly, shaking her head - and closing her eyes.

Monte Carlo, when she’d joined the Zafars on their annual trip. It had been perfect timing to introduce her to everyone in a nondescript, but still entirely… There, kind of way. But then there had been some fancy event, a dinner, and at the last minute, Mara and Dany had managed to lose each other before their big entrance.

Of course, it wasn’t meant to be a big entrance; but it involved a staircase, a fancy staircase leading to a room full of fancy people, a staircase Mara had felt stupid and self-conscious to be walking down on her own. But she hadn’t seen him anywhere and she couldn’t just… Loiter by herself, so she’d walked down the stupid damned staircase.

It had been horrifying. Like a fairytale gone wrong, because even though she’d looked like a princess - in a flowing, light blue gown that sparkled under the light, with shimmering sleeves that joined between her fingers and thumbs and her hair tied into a neat bun -, she’d felt like she was walking into a horror movie, cluelessly walking towards her slaughter, like all of the girls Mara yelled at whilst watching them.

But she’d had to do it. So Mara had kept her head down, her hand sliding down the bannister - until she’d seen Dany waiting for her at the bottom; and when her hand reached the end of the bannister, it effortlessly slipped into his, outstretched and waiting for her.

She’d felt such a rush of… Warmth. She’d thought it was relief. And he’d looked good, too, so effortlessly dapper - Mara could still remember it, still remembering how the Hell he was pulling it off - jeans, a casual polo shirt, a blazer and a silk scarf hanging loosely from his neck, all in varying shades of grey, no less -, so she’d thought it was smugness, too. At being the one to be standing next to him.

She knew better now.

She’d kept feeling it. When, after losing him in the crowd to other guests, he’d appeared behind her - even though she’d been fine, enjoying herself, actually -, his hand on the small of her back and his shoulder brushing the back of hers as he murmured updates into her ear. How he’d stayed with her for most of the night, his breath hot and minty on the back of her neck, his hand loosely cupping the curve of her waist.

Except - and Mara’s eyes flashed open - she couldn’t trust that feeling. How could she?! She’d been along for so long. She’d been looking for validation for so long - her eyes misted over slightly as she stared grimly at her reflection -, that just… Having someone around, having someone even faking being interested in her for a crowd… And it had felt good. To be touched. Not in a sexual way, to just be touched, and touched gently, like she was soft and gentle, like she could afford to be, like life hadn’t made her the way she was and ruined all of that stuff for her before she’d ever had a chance.

Companionship and trust and gratitude were not feelings Samara could trust. She’d had them all a million times before, with the same few people who kept screwing her over. Christ on a stick, her own mother still didn’t want her! And her father never had! Was she honestly that stupid, that insecure and out of her fucking mind, that she was going to let that ruin everything? Have her desperately begging for attention from random guys, stupid and annoying guys like Danyal Zafar, entitled guys because her self-esteem was so below sea level?

Mara turned away from her reflection, shaking her head again. No. No, she wasn’t. She had the rest of her life on a platter in front of her, her freedom, and she was sitting her, doubting that? No. No. She still wanted it. No, in fact, now, she needed it. More than ever.

Everything just felt wrong.

“Samara.”

Mara groaned quietly.

“Wonderful.” She muttered to herself, tossing her hair out of her face and squeezing her eyes shut. “Now you’re hearing his fucking voice everywhere, you lo-”

The words fell apart in her mouth as, opening her eyes again, Mara saw Danyal in the water - and when she whipped around to check she wasn’t losing her mind (but hoping she was), she couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath she took when she realised he was actually standing there.

“What-” Really? Now? Underneath the pretty lights and with the breeze wafting through his fluffy, un-styled hair and with him looking all tense and worried? No. No! She didn’t want to do this now, she didn’t have the energy, or the inclination, to fight him now. As if a giant camera crew were going to hop out of one of the bushes and tell her it was all a big joke, Mara glanced wildly around. “What’re you even doing here, you’re not supposed to be here tonight-”

“Raj helped me sneak in.” Dany said impatiently. “I heard your message.”

Even though Mara knew exactly what he was talking about… She shrugged.

“If you got the message I wanted to be ignored, I don’t understand why we’re talking to each other right now.” Mara said tiredly, unaware that it made sense; she didn’t know Danyal had tried calling her what felt like a million times, how he’d text and messaged too. She just knew of the message he’d sent after seeing the video of her and the girls at the Daybreaker rave. “Everyone is inside, including your parents-”

“I’m so sorry about your father.”

Her words jammed in her throat - but Mara swallowed them back. No. She was fine. She was fine.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Mara shrugged, staring at the reflection of the bottom of her shoes in the water. Not him, standing over her behind her. Not even her own face. No, thank you. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not my fault they’re assholes, but it’s my fault I wasn’t there-”

“No.” Mara said sharply, shaking her head slowly. “No, no, you - don’t do that. You don’t owe me anything. You made it clear we weren’t to speak and I called you and I shouldn’t have-”

“Mara.” Dany sighed helplessly - and, sneaking a peek at his reflection, Mara fought the lump in her throat as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked… Good. Handsome. He wore blue jeans, a white T-shirt and a velvet, mustard blazer - and even though she couldn’t see his face and his hair was sticking up in several places, she knew he looked good. Surprisingly, mustard suited him. “Please don’t do that-”

His voice. He sounded so… Sincere.

Grow a pair.

“I mean it, Dany.” She told him - and mustering up every ounce of strength she had (which… really wasn’t much at this point), she looked up at him seriously. “I’m not being passive aggressive or anything. You told me we weren’t to talk to each other. You had a point, a valid point-” Mara faltered slightly as Dany shook his head, looking vaguely disgusted - before dropping to the floor, cross-legged, in front of her. Immediately, she began to shrink away. “It’s not your job to look after me. Don’t… Beat yourself up about it, I didn’t need you, I just-”

“Wanted me?” Dany finished, his voice dangerously… No. Mara felt sick. She couldn’t even think it. No.

Hopeful?

It was paranoia. Plain and simple. For a moment, Mara thought he’d meant… Something else, something deeper. That’s why she looked at him with such wide eyes, why she felt like a deer in headlights - but it was that, not the poor choice behind Dany’s words, that made the air between them seem heavier.

Because she saw it. She saw recognition first, then shock, then disbelief, cross over Dany’s face as he realised what she’d thought he was asking - and Mara had to look away, because what she’d just seen had been in one micro-expression, in one twitch of his eyebrow and that…

That wasn’t normal.

It was. But it wasn’t supposed to be. They were meant to know each other well, be able to read each other, but it was too much now. So much so, that Mara was worried it was never going to go away.

Mara held her breath as neither one of them moved. She didn’t mean to. She just… Couldn’t help it.

“Your parents are assholes.” Dany said suddenly - and he sounded angry now, and for some reason, that scared her. He scooted closer and Mara almost flinched away from him as she leant away slightly, feeling her heart beat sickeningly hard inside of her throat. Dany’s eyes searched her face and she felt… Exposed, because he wasn’t just looking at her, and his eyes weren’t just angry, they were more and she didn’t want to know why. “You deserve better.”

“I-” Mara tried to joke, to say she thought so too, but she couldn’t, she couldn’t, because Dany’s jaw was clenching as if he were… Emotional and maybe she was just overthinking things? Right? Maybe she was just being a total… Moron, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Samara, I-”

“Don’t, Danyal, please don’t, I can’t.” She blurted - before gasping sharply, as she realised what she’d just done.

Dany’s eyes widened slightly - and now they both knew, they knew that she’d just broken their vow of silence and she’d just acknowledged that he’d been about to.

Mara didn’t know how long they stared at each other like that for. She didn’t want to. It couldn’t get any worse.

… And then it did, because understanding flashed through Dany’s eyes and he carried on talking.

“It’s not your fault.” He said, like he’d read her mind, and Mara wanted to roll her eyes because, holy shit, whatever conversation with herself she’d been trying to ease herself into, Dany was now forcing her into a whole damn… Bog of it. “Samara,” Mara squeezed her eyes shut and moved her face in the other direction, at how Dany grabbed her forearm. “It isn’t your fault that they’re the most useless-”

“No, it’s not their fault they made me me, it’s mine!” She burst - and it was all tumbling out now, and there were tears in her eyes and holy fucking shit, this was exactly what she hadn’t wanted. “I am not enough for them, there is something wrong with me-”

“That’s not true-”

“Maybe, but Dany, that’s how it feels.” Her eyes welled again - and Dany could only watch helplessly as tears began to fall down her face. Her voice had cracked on that last word and somehow, as stupid as it was, that suddenly felt like the dumbest thing in the world. But that was what she was crying about. At least, she was telling herself that. She wasn’t wasting more tears on… Anyone, ever again. And unfortunately, every person in the world had the capability to try and force it out of her.

Frustrated with herself, Mara brushed her tears away. God, could she be any more ridiculous?

“What can I do?” Dany demanded. For some reason it made Mara laugh - though just the once. “Samara-”

“Honestly?” She interrupted - and Dany nodded. Mara shook her head again, trying to convince herself not to say it. “I could use a hug right now.”

For a minute, she actually thought he wouldn’t do it - but then the next thing she knew, he’d moved, and before she’d even turned around to see what he was doing properly, she felt Dany lifting her arms gently out of the way… And his back was pressed against hers.

Just like that, she was warm. Just like that, without giving it another thought, Mara was sighing in relief and leaning back against his chest, letting his arms wrap around her waist and hold her pressed tightly against him, her arms, still damp from the henna, resting over his jeans.

“People change.” Dany told her - and Mara closed her eyes and rest her head against his shoulder, enjoying the smell of the jasmine and the water and his aftershave all mixed into one. “Your parents-”

“That… Woman has always had a plan to keep me out of sight, out of mind.” Mara muttered, shaking her head. She looked out to the water.

Dany’s arms held her closer.

“Plans change.” He murmured - and although a statement, it came out like a silent question.

She wanted to look behind her. She knew his face was just over her shoulder, and she wanted to see him, to prove to herself later that she hadn’t imagined the hidden meaning.

But she didn’t.

“Not all of them.” Mara said quietly… Before sighing and staring straight ahead. She didn’t want to see what they looked like, like this. “Thank you, though, if I don’t get to-” Mara let out a gusty breath. If I don’t get to say it tomorrow. “I mean, you know, for-”

Words. Words, use your words!

“For?” She hated it. How calm he sounded. How collected.

It was even more annoying when it felt like he’d be able to feel her heart beating against his chest.

Mara pressed her lips together. She - if words weren’t coming out, if her mind was blank, then it was a good thing. Sometimes words were just more trouble.

… In Mara’s silence, Dany understood.

“It’s not you.” He told her. Mara fought back a fresh wave of tears - but, in a weird way, his words helped, too. She felt… Stronger for it. “It’s not… You’re not… Not wanted.”

So much stronger.

Taking a deep breath, Mara leant her head back on his shoulder - and held her breath as tightly as she could, when she saw Dany up close.

The stubble growing on his jaw. The snugness of his teeth - crooked, but in a cute way, in a young sort of way, and his gorgeous brown eyes and his long eyelashes and his mouth, parting slightly, and those eyes were on her lips too and…

Mara moved forwards.

Away from him.

She let out her breath - before balancing herself, somehow without her arms, so that she was squatting in her loose-fitting white tunic and matching trousers again. She pivoted slightly, facing him.

She looked at that stupid face.

“Bye, Dany.” She said - and it sounded wrong, for her voice to no longer be hushed. It sounded loud - and just like that, she was back in the real world. The loud music continued to play in the background, she could hear everyone laughing and singing and the wind whistling through the flowers.

Before she could stop herself, Mara leant forwards - and kissed him on the forehead.

She didn’t check his expression. She didn’t look back. She kept walking.

You’re not not wanted.

She repeated those words in her head with each step. And it… Made it easier, actually. To keep walking. To push down the sad stuff and remember that the whole evening was acting like some sort of goodbye.

She didn’t see how Dany opened and closed his mouth, how he looked for words to say in a moment that was gone. To ask why he couldn’t say what it felt like they’d already said.

That he was in love with her. That he’d known it the moment he’d heard her message, heard the pain in her voice and wanted nothing more than to be with her. That he’d known when he’d moved, he’d been moving, to kiss her just now because he couldn’t stop himself anymore, because even though they’d kissed before, he wanted this time to be different.

But he knew why he couldn’t. He knew who was the reason he couldn’t.

Watching as Mara went inside without another glance, her arms out in front of her like some sort of offering, Dany felt his mind whirl at a million miles per minute.

… But that had just happened. Right? That had been a clue, they hadn’t said it, but by not saying it, didn’t that mean -?

Dany slowly climbed to his feet, frowning at the floor.

Didn’t that mean she felt it too?

#dara #the wedding drabbles #wedding edition #henbee #Danyal Zafar #Samara #atsou

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creepykingdom · 5 years

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Disney+ Announces New Titles at the D23 Expo

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Disney+ made its D23 Expo debut with its first-ever showcase presentation, announcing six new series in development and revealing key details about the highly anticipated streaming service to an enthusiastic audience at the Anaheim Convention Center in Anaheim. The event showcased the sweeping array of talent with in-person and video appearances from the stars of Disney+’s slate of originals from Disney, Pixar, Marvel, Star Wars, and National Geographic and included sneak peeks, trailer premieres, and exclusive news about the service and its upcoming projects. Actress Yvette Nicole Brown, who stars in the Disney+ original film “Lady and the Tramp,” hosted the lively presentation, welcoming Kevin Mayer, chairman, Direct-to-Consumer & International, to the stage to kick off the show. “With less than three months until launch, Disney+ will soon entertain and inspire audiences of all ages for generations to come, and we’re excited to preview some of the amazing original content being created for the service exclusively from our world-class brands today at the D23 Expo,” said Mayer. “Storytelling is the cornerstone of The Walt Disney Company and we’re thrilled to unveil a new slate of original shows from the Star Wars and Marvel cinematic universes, along with popular television franchises set to return with all-new series streaming only on Disney+.”

New Series Revealed As part of the presentation, some of the creative minds behind Disney+’s content slate including Sean Bailey, president, Walt Disney Studios Motion Picture Production; Kevin Feige, president, Marvel Studios; Kathleen Kennedy, president, Lucasfilm; and Gary Marsh, president and chief creative officer, Disney Channel Worldwide, gave fans a first look at the service’s upcoming originals and announced exciting new titles: ● Ewan McGregor made a surprise appearance to announce his return as Obi-Wan Kenobi in a new untitled series from Lucasfilm. ● Kevin Feige announced that Marvel Studios is developing three new live-action series: “Ms. Marvel,” “Moon Knight” and “She-Hulk,” all derived from Marvel comics. ● Hilary Duff surprised the audience when it was announced she will reprise the role she made famous in an all-new Lizzie McGuire series from Terri Minsky. ● Forty years after leaving the swamp in his big screen debut in “The Muppet Movie,” Kermit the Frog is heading upstream with Miss Piggy, and the gang, bringing a new kind of mayhem and laughter to Disney+ with their first-ever unscripted short-form series, “Muppets Now.” World Premiere Launch Content Previews During the 90-minute presentation, a parade of celebrities, filmmakers, and creatives treated the 6,800-person audience to the first public preview of Disney+’s original movies and shows set to stream when the service launches on November 12: ● For Lucasfilm’s “The Mandalorian,” executive producers Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni joined series stars Pedro Pascal, Gina Carano, Carl Weathers and Giancarlo Esposito, along with Taika Waititi, who brings the droid IG-11 to life, to premiere the teaser trailer for the first Star Wars live-action series. Earlier in the day at the Disney Legends Awards Ceremony, Robert A. Iger, chairman and chief executive officer, The Walt Disney Company, announced that new Disney Legend Ming-Na Wen will join the cast of the series. Set after the fall of the Empire and before the emergence of the First Order, “The Mandalorian” follows the travails of a lone gunfighter in the outer reaches of the galaxy far from the authority of the New Republic. Watch the trailer here. ● The talented up-and-coming cast of “High School Musical: The Musical: The Series” brought down the house with a live performance of the multi-platinum hit song, “We’re All In This Together.” Immediately following the presentation, cast members Joshua Bassett, Olivia Rodrigo, Matt Cornett, Sofia Wylie, Julia Lester, Larry Saperstein, Dara Reneé, Frankie A. Rodriguez, Kate Reinders, Mark St. Cyr, and Showrunner Tim Federle invited 3,600 fans to watch the first episode in the D23 Expo Arena and revealed the series’ teaser trailer. The 10-episode scripted series, set at the real-life East High, where the original movie was filmed, follows a group of students as they countdown to opening night of their school's first-ever production of “High School Musical.” Watch the trailer here. ● Host Yvette Nicole Brown joined fellow “Lady and the Tramp” cast members Rose (“Lady”) and Monty (“Tramp”)—the canine stars of the film—to premiere the first trailer from the film. In the timeless re-telling of the 1955 animated classic, a pampered house dog and a tough but lovable stray embark on an unexpected adventure and, despite their differences, grow closer and come to understand the value of home. Watch the trailer here. ● “Noelle” stars Anna Kendrick and Billy Eichner joined Sean Bailey to announce their film will premiere on Disney+ on November 12 before sharing a new trailer. In the upcoming holiday comedy, Kris Kringle’s daughter is full of Christmas spirit and holiday fun, but wishes she could do something “important” like her beloved brother Nick, who will take over from their father this Christmas. When Nick is about to crumble like a gingerbread cookie from all the pressure, Noelle suggests he take a break and get away…but when he doesn’t return, Noelle must find her brother and bring him back in time to save Christmas. Watch the trailer here. ● Jeff Goldblum, who stars in and hosts “The World According to Jeff Goldblum” from National Geographic, gave fans a peek inside the series including a new trailer for the show. Through Goldblum’s always inquisitive and highly entertaining mind, nothing is as it seems in this new 12-episode series. Watch the trailer here. ● Executive Producer Kristen Bell shared a first look trailer and a taste of what’s to come in the unscripted series, “Encore!” that brings together former castmates of high school musicals, tasking them with re-creating their original performance years after they last performed it, in a high school reunion like no other. Watch the trailer here. ● Tony Hale, who reprises his craft project turned toy role from “Toy Story 4” in the new collection of Pixar animated shorts “Forky Asks A Question,” premiered the first short (“What is Money?”). In the 10 shorts, Forky explores important questions about how the world works, such as: What is love? What is time? Post-launch Originals Disney+ also rolled out the red carpet for its titles set to premiere after the service launches, inviting stars to share new details for their upcoming projects: ● The audience was treated to a scene from the Disney+ original film “Togo,” an untold true story set in the winter of 1925 across the treacherous terrain of the Alaskan tundra. An exhilarating and uplifting adventure, “Togo” stars four-time Oscar® nominee Willem Dafoe and is directed by Ericson Core. The film also stars Julianne Nicholson, Christopher Heyerdahl, Richard Dormer, Michael Greyeyes, Michael McElhatton and Michael Gaston. Kim Zubick is the producer and Tom Flynn wrote the screenplay. “Togo” will launch on Disney+ in December. ● Executive Producer and recurring guest star Gina Rodriguez joined “Diary of a Female President” lead Tess Romero to announce the series will premiere on Disney+ in January. Told using the narration from her diary, this half-hour single camera comedy follows 12-year-old Cuban-American girl Elena’s journey through the trials of middle school, which set her on the path to ultimately become president of the United States. ● Kathleen Kennedy announced that the highly anticipated new season of “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” will stream on Disney+ in February 2020. The Emmy® award-winning animated series will be returning with twelve all-new episodes and will mark the return of classic characters Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi and fan-favorites Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex. ● Sean Bailey shared a first look at the original film “Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made.” Directed by award-winning filmmaker Tom McCarthy with screenplay by McCarthy & Stephan Pastis and based on the best-selling book series by Pastis, the film follows the hilarious exploits of our quirky, deadpan hero, Timmy Failure, who, along with his 1,500-pound polar bear partner Total, operates Total Failure Inc., a Portland detective agency. “Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made” will launch on Disney+ in early 2020. ● The stars of “Stargirl,” Grace VanderWaal and Graham Verchere, were welcomed on stage to help introduce the coming-of-age film based on the critically-acclaimed, New York Times’ best-selling young adult novel. “Stargirl” is directed by Julia Hart from a screenplay by Kristin Hahn and Julia Hart & Jordan Horowitz based on the novel by Jerry Spinelli. The film also stars Karan Brar, Maximiliano Hernandez, Darby Stanchfield and Giancarlo Esposito. “Stargirl” is produced by Ellen Goldsmith-Vein, Lee Stollman and Kristin Hahn. “Stargirl” will launch on Disney+ in early 2020. ● Director Kari Skogland introduced Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan, the stars of Marvel Studios’ ”The Falcon and The Winter Soldier,” which finds Falcon and the Winter Soldier teaming up after “Avengers: Endgame.” Emily VanCamp came on stage and Feige revealed that she will reprise her role as Sharon Carter. Then, he introduced the crowd to Wyatt Russell who will play John Walker—a character from the comics coming to the screen for the first time. Head writer Malcom Spellman was also on hand to greet the crowd. “The Falcon and The Winter Soldier” will launch on Disney+ in 2020. ●“Monsters At Work” stars Ben Feldman and Aisha Tyler unveiled the latest design of their characters Tylor and Millie. Inspired by Disney and Pixar’s Academy Award®-winning feature film “Monsters, Inc.,” the new series from Disney Television Animation returns to Monstropolis and follows a new cast of monsters with special appearances from Mike and Sulley (voiced by Billy Crystal and John Goodman). ● Stars Paul Bettany and Elizabeth Olsen were on hand for their new series, Marvel Studios’ “WandaVision.” Bettany returns as Vision and Olsen as Wanda Maximoff—two super-powered beings living their ideal suburban lives who begin to suspect that everything is not as it seems. Kevin Feige surprised the audience by bringing to the stage Kat Dennings and Randall Park who will reprise their roles from “Thor” and “Ant-Man and The Wasp,” and then he introduced Kathryn Hahn who has been cast as a new character in the series. Director Matt Shakman and head writer Jac Schaeffer joined everyone on stage to reveal that the streaming series will blend the style of classic sitcoms with Marvel Cinematic Universe. “WandaVision” premieres on Disney+ in 2021. ● Kevin Feige welcomed the director, Kate Herron, and head writer, Michael Waldron, of “Loki” to the stage. In Marvel Studios’ new Disney+ series “Loki,” Tom Hiddleston returns as the mercurial Loki, the god of mischief and everyone’s favorite villain in stories that take place after the events of “Avengers: Endgame.” “Loki” debuts on Disney+ in 2021. ● For Marvel Studios’ “What If…?” Hayley Atwell was on hand to greet the audience. Atwell will voice Peggy Carter in Marvel Studios’ first animated series that focuses on different heroes from the Marvel Cinematic Universe and imagines what would happen if the events in the films worked out differently. Kevin Feige also introduced director Bryan Andrews and head writer Ashley Bradley to the crowd. “What If…?” premieres on Disney+ in 2021. ● Stars Diego Luna and Alan Tudyk joined Kathleen Kennedy to introduce the audience to the second Lucasfilm live-action series for Disney+, which is now in development. Both actors are reprising their roles from “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story,” and the stories follow Cassian Andor’s adventures as a rebel spy during the formative years of the Rebellion, before the events of “A New Hope.” World-Class Product Experience Additionally, over on the Expo show floor the Disney+ app made its debut, complete with features and functionality confirmed for the global launch dates in November. For a monthly price of $6.99 or an annual rate of $69.99 in the U.S. (pricing varies outside U.S.), Disney+ offers viewers of all ages a compelling price-to-value proposition, with a consumer-friendly experience that’s easy-to-navigate with personalized recommendations, high-quality and commercial-free viewing, up to four concurrent streams, and unlimited downloads with no up-charges. The Disney+ app experience, available to consumers on November 12, will feature: ● Unlimited Downloads: Subscribers have access to unlimited downloads of shows and movies on the Disney+ app to watch offline later on up to 10 mobile or tablet devices, with no constraints on the number of times a title can be downloaded per year. Once downloaded, subscribers can watch on the go and without an internet connection. The number of titles stored at one time on a device is dependent upon the available storage space on a subscriber’s device. ● High-Quality Viewing: Subscribers will enjoy an ultra-high-definition viewing experience with up to 4K Ultra HD video playback in Dolby Vision ultra-vivid imaging, HDR10, and Dolby Atmos immersive audio on supported devices for available programming. ● Commercial-free Viewing: Subscribers can access unlimited viewing of Disney+ content without having to watch a single commercial. ● Profile Customizations: Subscribers can set up to seven different profiles and choose an avatar tailored to their favorite Disney, Pixar, Marvel or Star Wars characters, with over 200 avatars available. ● Concurrent Streaming: Disney+ allows subscribers to concurrently stream video content on up to four registered devices with no up-charges. ●Multiple Languages: At launch, Disney+ will offer support for English, Spanish, French and Dutch languages, including both user interface as well as audio support and/or subtitles for library content, with additional languages available for Disney+ Originals. ● Accessibility: The app offers support for closed captioning, descriptive audio, and navigation assistance to help subscribers with disabilities discover and enjoy their favorite stories.

For the latest from Disney+ and its upcoming originals, follow @DisneyPlus on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, @TheMandalorian on Twitter, and Instagram, @HighSchoolMusical on Facebook and Instagram, @LadyandtheTramp on Facebook and Instagram, @DisneysNoelle on Instagram, or register your email at DisneyPlus.com. About Disney+ Launching on November 12, 2019, Disney+ will be the dedicated streaming home for movies and shows from Disney, Pixar, Marvel, Star Wars, National Geographic, and more, together, for the first time. From The Walt Disney Company’s Direct-to-Consumer and International segment, Disney+ will offer ad-free programming with a variety of original feature-length films, documentaries, live-action and animated series and short-form content. Alongside unprecedented access to Disney’s incredible library of film and television entertainment, and 30 seasons of “The Simpsons” in the U.S., the service will also be the exclusive streaming home for films released by The Walt Disney Studios in 2019 and beyond, including “Captain Marvel,” “Avengers: Endgame,” “Aladdin,” “Toy Story 4,” “The Lion King,” “Maleficent: Mistress of Evil,” “Frozen 2,”and “Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker.” The service will launch in select geographic territories, including U.S., Canada, and The Netherlands, followed shortly by Australia and New Zealand, with the expectation to be available in all major markets within the first two-years. Visit DisneyPlus.com to learn more.

#blogposts

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mrdaps · 5 years

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Fans around the globe have been gearing up for the Disney+ streaming service! The service will contain all of your favorites that you already know and love, from the Marvel Cinematic Universe to Disney Channel Original Movies. Today at D23 Expo, Disney announced some of their exciting new original content that will be coming to the series and their descriptions.

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The Disney+ panel was a hit with fans attending the expo, with many saying it was a major highlight of their day! Here is a recap of this very special panel from Disney!

For Lucasfilm’s “The Mandalorian,” executive producers Jon Favreau and Dave Filoni joined series stars Pedro Pascal, Gina Carano, Carl Weathers and Giancarlo Esposito, along with Taika Waititi, who brings the droid IG-11 to life, to premiere the teaser trailer for the first Star Wars live-action series. Earlier in the day at the Disney Legends Awards Ceremony, Robert A. Iger, chairman and chief executive officer, The Walt Disney Company, announced that new Disney Legend Ming-Na Wen will join the cast of the series. Set after the fall of the Empire and before the emergence of the First Order, “The Mandalorian” follows the travails of a lone gunfighter in the outer reaches of the galaxy far from the authority of the New Republic. Watch the trailer here.

The talented up-and-coming cast of “High School Musical: The Musical: The Series” brought down the house with a live performance of the multi-platinum hit song, “We’re All In This Together.” Immediately following the presentation, cast members Joshua Bassett, Olivia Rodrigo, Matt Cornett, Sofia Wylie, Julia Lester, Larry Saperstein, Dara Reneé, Frankie A. Rodriguez, Kate Reinders, Mark St. Cyr, and Showrunner Tim Federle invited 3,600 fans to watch the first episode in the D23 Expo Arena and revealed the series’ teaser trailer. The 10-episode scripted series, set at the real-life East High, where the original movie was filmed, follows a group of students as they countdown to opening night of their school’s first-ever production of “High School Musical.” Watch the trailer here.

Host Yvette Nicole Brown joined fellow “Lady and the Tramp” cast members Rose (“Lady”) and Monty (“Tramp”)—the canine stars of the film—to premiere the first trailer from the film. In the timeless re-telling of the 1955 animated classic, a pampered house dog and a tough but lovable stray embark on an unexpected adventure and, despite their differences, grow closer and come to understand the value of home. Watch the trailer here.

“Noelle” stars Anna Kendrick and Billy Eichner joined Sean Bailey to announce their film will premiere on Disney+ on November 12 before sharing a new trailer. In the upcoming holiday comedy, Kris Kringle’s daughter is full of Christmas spirit and holiday fun, but wishes she could do something “important” like her beloved brother Nick, who will take over from their father this Christmas. When Nick is about to crumble like a gingerbread cookie from all the pressure, Noelle suggests he take a break and get away…but when he doesn’t return, Noelle must find her brother and bring him back in time to save Christmas. Watch the trailer here.

Jeff Goldblum, who stars in and hosts “The World According to Jeff Goldblum” from National Geographic, gave fans a peek inside the series including a new trailer for the show. Through Goldblum’s always inquisitive and highly entertaining mind, nothing is as it seems in this new 12-episode series. Watch the trailer here.

Executive Producer Kristen Bell shared a first look trailer and a taste of what’s to come in the unscripted series, “Encore!” that brings together former castmates of high school musicals, tasking them with re-creating their original performance years after they last performed it, in a high school reunion like no other. Watch the trailer here.

Tony Hale, who reprises his craft project turned toy role from “Toy Story 4” in the new collection of Pixar animated shorts “Forky Asks A Question,” premiered the first short (“What is Money?”). In the 10 shorts, Forky explores important questions about how the world works, such as: What is love? What is time?

The audience was treated to a scene from the Disney+ original film “Togo,” an untold true story set in the winter of 1925 across the treacherous terrain of the Alaskan tundra. An exhilarating and uplifting adventure, “Togo” stars four-time Oscar® nominee Willem Dafoe and is directed by Ericson Core. The film also stars Julianne Nicholson, Christopher Heyerdahl, Richard Dormer, Michael Greyeyes, Michael McElhatton and Michael Gaston. Kim Zubick is the producer and Tom Flynn wrote the screenplay. “Togo” will launch on Disney+ in December.

Executive Producer and recurring guest star Gina Rodriguez joined “Diary of a Female President” lead Tess Romero to announce the series will premiere on Disney+ in January. Told using the narration from her diary, this half-hour single camera comedy follows 12-year-old Cuban-American girl Elena’s journey through the trials of middle school, which set her on the path to ultimately become president of the United States.

Kathleen Kennedy announced that the highly anticipated new season of “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” will stream on Disney+ in February 2020. The Emmy® award-winning animated series will be returning with twelve all-new episodes and will mark the return of classic characters Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi and fan-favorites Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex.

Sean Bailey shared a first look at the original film “Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made.” Directed by award-winning filmmaker Tom McCarthy with screenplay by McCarthy & Stephan Pastis and based on the best-selling book series by Pastis, the film follows the hilarious exploits of our quirky, deadpan hero, Timmy Failure, who, along with his 1,500-pound polar bear partner Total, operates Total Failure Inc., a Portland detective agency. “Timmy Failure: Mistakes Were Made” will launch on Disney+ in early 2020.

The stars of “Stargirl,” Grace VanderWaal and Graham Verchere, were welcomed on stage to help introduce the coming-of-age film based on the critically-acclaimed, New York Times’ best-selling young adult novel. “Stargirl” is directed by Julia Hart from a screenplay by Kristin Hahn and Julia Hart & Jordan Horowitz based on the novel by Jerry Spinelli. The film also stars Karan Brar, Maximiliano Hernandez, Darby Stanchfield and Giancarlo Esposito. “Stargirl” is produced by Ellen Goldsmith-Vein, Lee Stollman and Kristin Hahn. “Stargirl” will launch on Disney+ in early 2020.

Director Kari Skogland introduced Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan, the stars of Marvel Studios’ ”The Falcon and The Winter Soldier,” which finds Falcon and the Winter Soldier teaming up after “Avengers: Endgame.” Emily VanCamp came on stage and Feige revealed that she will reprise her role as Sharon Carter. Then, he introduced the crowd to Wyatt Russell who will play John Walker—a character from the comics coming to the screen for the first time. Head writer Malcom Spellman was also on hand to greet the crowd. “The Falcon and The Winter Soldier” will launch on Disney+ in 2020.

“Monsters At Work” stars Ben Feldman and Aisha Tyler unveiled the latest design of their characters Tylor and Millie. Inspired by Disney and Pixar’s Academy Award®-winning feature film “Monsters, Inc.,” the new series from Disney Television Animation returns to Monstropolis and follows a new cast of monsters with special appearances from Mike and Sulley (voiced by Billy Crystal and John Goodman).

Stars Paul Bettany and Elizabeth Olsen were on hand for their new series, Marvel Studios’ “WandaVision.” Bettany returns as Vision and Olsen as Wanda Maximoff—two super-powered beings living their ideal suburban lives who begin to suspect that everything is not as it seems. Kevin Feige surprised the audience by bringing to the stage Kat Dennings and Randall Park who will reprise their roles from “Thor” and “Ant-Man and The Wasp,” and then he introduced Kathryn Hahn who has been cast as a new character in the series. Director Matt Shakman and head writer Jac Schaeffer joined everyone on stage to reveal that the streaming series will blend the style of classic sitcoms with Marvel Cinematic Universe. “WandaVision” premieres on Disney+ in 2021.

Kevin Feige welcomed the director, Kate Herron, and head writer, Michael Waldron, of “Loki” to the stage. In Marvel Studios’ new Disney+ series “Loki,” Tom Hiddleston returns as the mercurial Loki, the god of mischief and everyone’s favorite villain in stories that take place after the events of “Avengers: Endgame.” “Loki” debuts on Disney+ in 2021.

For Marvel Studios’ “What If…?” Hayley Atwell was on hand to greet the audience. Atwell will voice Peggy Carter in Marvel Studios’ first animated series that focuses on different heroes from the Marvel Cinematic Universe and imagines what would happen if the events in the films worked out differently. Kevin Feige also introduced director Bryan Andrews and head writer Ashley Bradley to the crowd. “What If…?” premieres on Disney+ in 2021.

Stars Diego Luna and Alan Tudyk joined Kathleen Kennedy to introduce the audience to the second Lucasfilm live-action series for Disney+, which is now in development. Both actors are reprising their roles from “Rogue One: A Star Wars Story,” and the stories follow Cassian Andor’s adventures as a rebel spy during the formative years of the Rebellion, before the events of “A New Hope.”

The Disney+ app experience, available to consumers on November 12, will feature:

Unlimited Downloads: Subscribers have access to unlimited downloads of shows and movies on the Disney+ app to watch offline later on up to 10 mobile or tablet devices, with no constraints on the number of times a title can be downloaded per year. Once downloaded, subscribers can watch on the go and without an internet connection. The number of titles stored at one time on a device is dependent upon the available storage space on a subscriber’s device.

High-Quality Viewing: Subscribers will enjoy an ultra-high-definition viewing experience with up to 4K Ultra HD video playback in Dolby Vision ultra-vivid imaging, HDR10, and Dolby Atmos immersive audio on supported devices for available programming.

Commercial-free Viewing: Subscribers can access unlimited viewing of Disney+ content without having to watch a single commercial.

Profile Customizations: Subscribers can set up to seven different profiles and choose an avatar tailored to their favorite Disney, Pixar, Marvel or Star Wars characters, with over 200 avatars available.

Concurrent Streaming: Disney+ allows subscribers to concurrently stream video content on up to four registered devices with no up-charges.

Multiple Languages: At launch, Disney+ will offer support for English, Spanish, French and Dutch languages, including both user interface as well as audio support and/or subtitles for library content, with additional languages available for Disney+ Originals.

Accessibility: The app offers support for closed captioning, descriptive audio, and navigation assistance to help subscribers with disabilities discover and enjoy their favorite stories.

Be sure to check out the Disney+ trailer from the D23 Expo below and let us know what you’re looking forward to most! We will be on Facebook and Twitter all weekend and we can’t wait to hear what you think!

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Disney+ Streaming Service Announces Exciting Original Content at D23 Expo 2019 Fans around the globe have been gearing up for the Disney+ streaming service! The service will contain all of your favorites that you already know and love, from the Marvel Cinematic Universe to Disney Channel Original Movies.

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mynotsoawesomescenarios · 7 years

Text

Sweet Collaboration

A/N: I said I would stop… I said I would take a break from smut… And what do I do? Take my friend’s suggestion to heart and write a KaiBaek threesome smut. Do I hate myself? A little. Do I hate her more? Hell yeah. Anyway, this is my first threesome smut, so, enjoy I guess. (This is pretty long, I think)

~Admin Allie

You stood in the middle of the room and practiced your breathing techniques. Your belly expanded as far out as it could before you exhaled the air that made snap back into place. You did this a few times, making sure to stretch out your lungs and to get yourself ready for the notes you’d have to belt out in just a few moments. You bent forward and took the top of your feet into your hands. You inhaled for three seconds and exhaled for the same amount of time. You were to repeat this exercise until you got to ten but before you could even reach eight, you felt someone’s cool hand on the exposed skin of your lower back. You shot up with a curse on the tip of your tongue but when you saw Baekhyun grinning at you, you just rolled your eyes.

“I’m impressed. You started doing your exercises without me.”

“That’s because you’re late.” Your words came out from deep inside of your chest, showing that you were more than ready to start your lesson. You made your way to the stand that the songs you practiced with sat upon. You looked down at the song you would be practicing for your Wednesday lesson and your eyebrows were fixated in a confused expression.

“Too difficult for you?” Baekhyun asked you with a voice of fake concern and a smirk.

“Yes,” You were going to be upfront with him. “‘Arirang Alone’ is hard enough already but you want me to sing it in the style of So Hyang? She is an actual vocal goddess and there is no way that I can pull this off.” He tilted his head to the side, now as confused as you were.

“Arira-,” He shook his head and walked to the stand. He looked through the papers and let out a breathy laugh before smiling to himself. “These are the papers from the lesson I was teaching earlier. Yours are here.” He pulled the sheet from the back of the stack and put it to the front. You looked down and raised your brows when you saw the title. “I know that you are capable of singing this song, for sure.” He patted your back before he went to the piano.

The song was Slow by 2ne1. It was a song the song that you listed as your favorite when you signed up for classes a few months ago. You set it as your goal to be able to effortlessly pull of the song whenever you were ready and you figured that this was Baekhyun telling you that you had come far enough to do so.

He started to play the piano and you soon followed up with your voice. As you pushed out the notes, Baekhyun looked up to you and gave you encouraging smiles and nods. While you sung, you thought about how strained your voice used to sound while singing. Your voice was now well trained and made smooth transitions and it was all thanks to the irritatingly good looking man that smiled before you. As the song got closer to the end, he joined you by singing Dara’s part while you took on Bom’s adlibs. You didn’t want to admit it, but your voices together was a sound you learned to love. The way his tone complimented that of your own made you want nothing more than to sing with him all day long.

The song came to an end but Baekhyun’s fingers still played random notes, coming up with his own melody as background music. “That was amazing.” His fingers kept dancing across the piano keys and he gave you a proud smile. You usually didn’t feel the slightest bit shy around Baekhyun but the way he was smiling at you made you blush and look to the ground so that you could get a hold of yourself for a second.

“Thank you,” you said simply.

“Do you have plans later?” His smile was gone and he gave you a straight face that was strangely unreadable.

“Hm, I wanted to cuddle with dog but I guess I can reschedule.”

“Wanna go out?” His question was easy to answer but you couldn’t really force out the “yes” that you immediately wanted to give him.

“Depends on where,” You started. “I don’t do clubs or loud crowds.”

“That’s perfect then. My friend is having a recital tonight and he told me to bring someone along.”

“And that someone is me?” You were back to your typical sassy self and crossed your arms over your chest. You smirked at him as if you had achieved something.

“You weren’t my first choice.” Your confidence was shut down and your face fell.

When he took notice of your expression, he laughed at you and pulled his hands from the piano to clap his hands together just one time. “Aww, look at you! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” He stood up and placed his hands on your slumped shoulders. “You were the first person I thought to bring. I was just kidding.” He grinned and winked at you. You scrunched up your nose at his cute face and moved his hands from your shoulders.

“I guess I’ll come. I’d hate for my beloved vocal coach to be going to some show all alone.” He chuckled at you and shook his head.

“I have a few more lessons so you can go home and change if you want, there’s no dress code. I’ll pick you up around eight thirty.” You nodded to him and packed up your things before walking out of the room. When you approached your car, you got a text from Baekhyun.

*Ah, the show is three hours long so eat something. I’m not buying you food.* [5:49pm]

After eating a sandwich and trading out your sweatpants for a pair of light blue jeans, you decided to take a nap. But, after what felt like minutes, your phone was buzzing next to your head.

“Hello?” You voice was thick and deep. You tried to clear your voice a few times after getting a preview of how it sounded.

“Ew, were you sleep?” Baekhyun poked fun at you.

“Why 'ew’? Isn’t my sleepy voice sexy?” You got off of the couch with a grunt and stretched your muscles.

“It’s something,” he paused. “I’m outside. Hurry up.”

“Okay.” You put on your sneakers and grabbed a jacket on your way out, unsure of if the theater would be cold or not.

The ride was as you expected it to be, teasing and randomly flirtatious comments here and there. You two got out of the car and walked to the crowded entrance of the theater. Baekhyun held onto your hand as you walked through the people, whispering sorrys and quick apologies as you bumped into them.

You two arrived at the doors of the theater and he handed the usher the tickets. She nodded to you two with a small smile and allowed you in. You followed Baekhyun toward the stage and walked into the fifth row from the front. You both picked up the programs that sat in the seats and you looked through it.

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Kim Jongin. He’s the primo ballernio.” He pointed to his face in the program.

“Ooh, fancy.” Those were the last words you said before the lights started to dim. The music started up and little girls in cream leotards paired with sparkly white tutus. The show started out beautifully but when Jongin came out, the whole vibe of the stage changed. The music was dark and he was the only person in drab and worn clothes. He had on a loose with top with black marks on it and tan tights that had rips in them.

The way he danced was graceful, powerful and dangerously passionate. His body moved across the stage with little effort and he lifted the woman into the air in a way that showed that he was in charge. And his facial expressions pulled you into him. The way his menacing smile graced his deceivingly innocent face made the story even more real. You felt lost in his movements until you felt a hand on your thigh.

“Isn’t he great?” In an effort to make his voice a whisper, he made it deeper than normal and spoke close to your ear. You dryly swallowed air and nodded at him. “The way he dances, it’s so lovely and seductive.” Baekhyun’s hand traveled higher up your thigh and you slightly squirmed under his touch. “I know you feel it too. The excitement he sends through your body with even the twitch of the corner of his lips.” His hand barely touched your clothed pussy but having him so close still made you bite down on your lips to fight a breathy moan.

The crowd started to applaud and cheer as the lights came back on. The intermission had started. Baekhyun smirked at you and moved his hand away from you slowly. Your mouth was dry and you needed a break from him. You stood from your seat and walked past him without a word.

“Where are you going?” As you wiggled past him, he bought one of his hands to your hip and helped you pass him.

“I need to get some water.” Once you got out of the row, you power walked to the concession stand to get an overpriced water. You handed the man your three dollars and twisted open the bottle. You chugged down the water and wiped at your face as the water escaped your mouth at the corners. As you chugged, you felt someone tap on your shoulder. You turned around and was a panting Jongin. He smiled at you.

“Sorry, but can you scoot over? I need some water.” You didn’t question him even though you knew there had to be water backstage for the cast. He got a water from the man and wasn’t asked to pay for it. He drank down the water quickly. You didn’t mean to stare at him but the way the sweat glistened on his skin was a sight to see. Along with the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he drank his water. He started to walk away but turned on his heels after a few strides.

“Hey, are you Baekhyun’s friend? I saw you sitting next to him so I assume you came with him?”

“Uh, yeah. He invited me to come with him.” Jongin flashed you another smile and nodded, as if he was approving of his friend’s choice of a guest.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He walked up to you again and held out his hand. “Jongin.”

“Y/N.” The lights in the hall dimmed twice, signaling the start of the second half of the show. You pulled your hand away from his but he held on to your for one second longer.

“See you later, Y/N.” The way he grinned at you before running away almost made you fall over. It made you so weak and you felt your knees buck beneath you.

You made your way back to your seat just in time. “You all good now?” Baekhyun asked you as you settled down into your seat. You nodded at him and kept your eyes glued to the stage. “Are you sure?” His hand took it’s original spot on your leg and his thumb softly rubbed your clothed thigh.

“Baekhyun, please.”

“Please what?” His voice was almost as low as a growl.

“Please, keep your hands to yourself.”

“Make me.” Your heart responded to his voice and you didn’t want it to. But you didn’t dare to move his hand away from you. As much as you were suffering, you didn’t want to lose his touch. He laughed in your ear and grinned. “See, you like this.” His hand moved to cup your pussy and you sighed, turning your face to his. “Be good and keep your eyes on Jongin.” You closed your eyes shut before opening them up wide and focusing on Jongin.

His slender fingers lightly stroked at your want. He kissed you on the cheek as you watched Jongin move elegantly and swiftly. Your attention started to waver when you felt pressure on your clit. You took a sharp breath in and tightened your legs together. Baekhyun shushed you before you made any sound and moved his hand from you.

“I’ll let you finish later.”

For the second half of the show, Baekhyun sat next to you as if everything was normal. He reacted to the show and the plot changes as if he hadn’t done what he just did. You tried to forget his actions and his voice that grumbled in your ear. Or how his soft lips barely touched the conch of your ear as he whispered. You tried to focus on the stage as well, but you couldn’t when Jongin’s part was cut short because of his characters untimely death. The last scene was beginning to fade into the darkness as the curtain drew closed. Everyone cheered and applauded as the theater lit up again. Everyone stood to their feet when the performers walked on the stage according to their role, minor characters first, major ones last.

When Jongin came onto the stage, Baekhyun began to shout his name and whistle. Jongin was beaming on the stage as he was being praised for his flawless performance. He picked up the flowers that were thrown his way and even allowed himself to part with a few, handing some single pink roses to the little girls to the right of him. Everyone took their final bows and the curtains closed for their final time.

“Come on.” Baekhyun tugged at your shirt and you followed him. “We have to go see him backstage.” You walked through the halls and eventually came to a door that had a sign that read “Cast & Crew ONLY” Baekhyun pushed right through the door and his eyes immediately found Jongin.

“That’s my boy!” Jongin’s eyes lit up and he made his way through a few people to hug him.

“I’m so happy you came! Everyone else were 'too busy’” He rolled his eyes and shook his head with a cute pout.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Baekhyun slapped his arm quickly. “Ah! This is Y/N, she’s one of my students.”

“Student is a weird word to use,” you said under your breath so you couldn’t be heard.

“I know, I met her in the hall during intermission.” He smiled at you and you returned it.

“You’re an amazing dancer. It was seriously too beautiful for words.” His smile was wider than it was all night and he thanked you more times than necessary.

“Are you doing anything after this?” Baekhyun asked, directing his question to Jongin.

“Hm, nope, why?”

“Want to show Y/N the piece we’ve been working on together?” Jongin nodded his head excitedly. He gathered his things while you and Baekhyun walked back to his car.

“That’s funny, I don’t remember being if I had plans after this.”

“I didn’t have to ask because you already agreed to be with me tonight. And, you have no friends so you might as well come.” His little jab was almost painful but it was true. You just laughed it off and got into the car.

The studio was only minutes away, you could have walked there if you wanted to. Jongin pulled keys out of his bag and opened the door. He switched on the lights and let down the blinds before locking the door once you and Baekhyun got inside.

“Is this place all yours?” You slid of your jacket and placed your things on the couch. There wasn’t much in the studio. Just a few posters, the couch, a grand piano and a small sound system. There were three doors to the back, you assumed that they’d be closets and a bathroom.

“Yup, I rented it out years ago but I decided to buy it sense dancing is starting to pay off.” You nodded at him before further inspected the place.

“Jongin and I have been working on an original piece together. One day I was fooling around on the piano and he just started freestyle dancing to the song.” Baekhyun sat at the piano and started playing the same song he was playing earlier in the practice room. “You wanna see it?”

“Sure.” You started to walk to the couch but Jongin called out to you.

“It would be better if you sat in front of me, right in front of the mirrors.” You agreed and sat in the seat he asked you too. Baekhyun started to play the familiar tone and this time began to sing along.

“I may look strong even laughing, but actually I am so alone.” His light voice went on for a little and you swayed you head from side to side. But once the song reached the chorus, Jongin’s delicate body began to move. It wasn’t like the dancing you saw earlier. While it was still as precise and passionate, the dance was one of a man in love, not a menacing heartbreaker. His movements fit so well with the message of the song.

He continued to dance and as the song approached the bridge, he took you by the hand and lead you to the bench Baekhyun was sitting on. Baekhyun smiled at you but it wasn’t the same as the others, it was bashful and had a refreshing shyness. You watched his hands glide across the keys and gently push on each one to push out the beautiful notes. He glanced at you quickly before focusing on the keys and his singing again. His voice made your heart pound. The way his lips delivered each syllable and how his tongue loosely rested against the roof of his mouth to create a breathy sound in his voice, it was all so beautiful.

The song came to an end and your pulse was going faster than it should for someone who only sat for the past few hours.

“How was it?” Jongin plopped onto the floor, next to your side of the bench.

“Everything about it, it was just so perfect. Your dancing paired with Baek’s singing, wow. I would pay over and over to see it.” He smiled at you and rested his hand on your leg.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely and gave a light squeeze to your thigh. You tried to keep your reaction as minimal as possible but the heat in your face betrayed you. You blushed and lowered your eyes from his. You patted his hand with your own and moved it from your thigh. He chuckled and shook his head as he stood to his feet and let down the lid of the piano and laid his body on top of it.

“I’m sure your voice is just as beautiful as Baekhyun’s, Y/N. Can I hear it?” He flashed you an cute smile as he settled his chin into the palms of his hands. You cleared your voice a little and started singing just any song that came to mind. Jongin was giving you a good response but you still looked to Baekhyun out of habit, looking for any expression that was telling you off about being slightly out of tune or how your breathing was wrong. But all he did was smile.

“I think you could have a better voice than mine if you keep up with the lessons.” His words were honest. “Such a pretty voice and a face even more so.”

“Thank you,” you said in a hushed voice. You tapped your fingers on the keys but made sure to not press too hard careful to not make any sound in the slightly uncomfortable silence. You looked out of the corner of your eye and saw Baekhyun’s fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the inner thigh of his jeans. Then finicky fingers stop and suddenly one hand disappeared behind your body. His left hand latched onto your waist and he placed his chin in your shoulder. He took a deep inhale.

“Y/N,” He said lowly. The way his honey like voice sent your name to your ears made you blink hard. But your eyes shot open when you felt another hand on your cheek. Jongin was now in your personal space but you didn’t mind at all. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip and he stared at it while he caught his own lip between his teeth. “Hmm, my sweet Y/N.” Baekhyun hummed and bought his lips to your ear. He planted a soft kiss on it and trailed his kisses downward, planting them on the soft skin of your neck. You squeezed your eyes shut and moved your head, opening space for Baekhyun’s kisses to freely land.

“Look at me, princess.” Jongin looked you in your eyes before smirking and attacking your lips. His plump lips molded to yours perfectly. The kisses were slow, long and tender, allowing you to bask in the feeling. He moved his lips against yours slightly and kept up the slow pace. You nipped at his bottom lip and he smirked against your lips.

Baekhyun’s hands started to roam all over your body with no clear destination. He brushed his hand over your tummy before cupping your breast, all while sucking and kissing on your neck. His hand moved away from your breast and he was now dancing his fingers along your thigh. You gasped against Jongin’s lips as he cupped your want from over your pants.

“Do you want to finish what we started earlier?” He spoke against your skin.

“Yes,” as soon as the word left your lips, both of the men stood up and started to undress themselves. You watched them strip down and you noticed how they eyed each other. They smiled at one another before approaching you and working at your clothes; Baekhyun behind you pulling off your top and bra and Jongin in front of you, pushing down your pants and panties and taking off your sneakers.

Baekhyun started to place light kisses on your shoulders and the back of your neck as his hands admired every part of your body. Jongin kissed up your thigh and laid a quick one on your hip bone before making his way to the couch. You watched him as he took his member into his hand and slowly pumped at it.

“Just like before, you’re going to keep your eyes on him,” Baekhyun whispered as his right hand made its way to the middle of your legs. His middle finger brushed against your entrance and moved back and forth, making sure to touch every part of your pussy. His other hand worked on your nipples, pinching them and rolling them between his index finger and thumb.

Jongin started to pump himself faster, his eyes were half closed and his teeth clamped on to his bottom lip until he wanted to let out a small moan or whimper. You didn’t know if it was him watching you or you watching him that turned you in, but regardless, this was something you had never experienced.

Baekhyun rubbed on your clit and you felt your body weakening by his touch. He moved his hand away from your breasts and held on to your waist tightly. When he was tired of playing with your bud, he shoved two of his fingers inside of you without warning. You moaned and moved your hand over his, trying to keep him still until you grew used to the feeling. But he kept moving his finger further into you. You gasped and screwed your eyes shut, trying to regain your strength. He curled his fingers inside of you but came to a stop.

“Keep them open baby.” You whimpered at his command and pried your eyes open. As he pleased you, you and Jongin were starting to chase your climaxes. The more his chest heaved, the closer you were getting to cumming all over Baekhyun’s fingers. And soon enough, you felt your body tense up before going into a state of complete relaxation just as Jongin released all over his lower stomach. Baekhyun was using all of his strength to keep you up right and moved forward to the couch.

He propped you up on the couch and helped you bring your knees into the cushions. You could hardly keep your eyes open at this point but when Baekhyun filled you up, your eyes went wide. He cursed as he eased into you, already so wet for him. His thrust were deep and long and you could feel every part of his cock enter you, even down to a vein. He pulled out so far that his tip just barely kissed your entrance and he would push in so deep that you’d almost feel it in your stomach. He went like this for a while before he started to pound into you harder. Every stroke would push air out of your lungs and you would let out an exhausted moan. He started to say your name and grip onto your ass as hard as he could, clearly close to his orgasm. He collapsed his body on top of yours and started giving you shallow thrust as his arms latched around your waist. With a few more strokes he was cumming deep inside of you.

Jongin had very little patience at this moment and he patted his thigh, telling you to get in top of him. Baekhyun pulled out of you and allowed you to make your way to Jongin. You settled on top of him but your body was too delicate to hold yourself up. You braced your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. Jongin pushed himself into you tired pussy and threw his head back with satisfaction. While his mouth hung wide open, Baekhyun saw his opportunity and kissed Jongin. He shoved his tongue into his mouth and stroked his jaw line with the pad of his thumb. Jongin moaned into the kiss and his hips were still moving at a steady pace.

Baekhyun ran his hand down Jongin’s body and he parted from the kiss. Baekhyun bought his lips to yours and Jongin drove into quickly at the sight of watching you two kiss. In order to help chase your second orgasm, you moved your hips roughly to meet with Jongin’s. He grunted and clenched his jaw as he watched his cock disappear inside of you. With a few more thrust, you felt the overwhelming pleasure wash over you again. Your body slumped on to Jongin’s as he continued you slam into you. Moments later, he groaned next to your ear and came as he pulled out of you. Juices from all three of you dripped out of your pussy and on to his tired cock. They both placed kisses on your body in random places and their hands carelessly searched your body, all of you tired from the passionate sex.

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mrhotmaster · 4 years

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The List Of April 2020 TV Series Of Hotstar, Netflix And Amazon Is Here: Check Now

The biggest TV title of March — The Mandalorian — was gifted over fortnight early because of the (botched) beta roll-out of Disney+ Hotstar, which now launches officially Friday. Star Wars fans haven't any doubt already watched it, so you will not find it below. April also saw the return of confounding sci-fi Westworld and Jason Bateman-led Ozark for his or her respective third seasons. the previous continues through March, as is that the case for the opposite HBO series, The Plot Against America, from the creator of The Wire. Joining them in April may be a jam-packed list of latest and returning TV, and that is despite us not having the ability to incorporate some (like Killing Eve) which don't air weekly on India.

Disney+ Hotstar has five new titles — from a previous couple of episodes of recent Family to new shows featuring Cate Blanchett and Phoebe-Waller Bridge — despite not having one new Disney+ original series. Netflix also has five. Money Heist is the most-talked-about title, but there's a promise within the hands of Mindy Kaling and Vir Das, who are drawing on their own lives in a method or another. And if it's local content you're after, Amazon has two of these on offer: the return of Four More Shots Please!, and another from the house of The Viral Fever (TVF).

Here's our April 2020 TV guide, which incorporates shows on Disney+ Hotstar, Netflix, Amazon Prime Video, and Apple TV+.

Home Before Dark

When: April 3

Where: Apple TV+

The first of two Apple originals in April is predicated on the true story of young journalist Hilde Lysiak (Brooklynn Prince, from The Florida Project) who unearths a chilly case that everybody, including her father, is trying to bury during a small lakeside town. Created by Dana Fox (The Wedding Date) & Dara Resnik (I Love Dick), and directed by Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians). Three episodes on the release date, and therefore the remaining seven weekly thereafter. Already renewed for a second season.

Money Heist

When: April 3

Where: Netflix

“The war had begun.” That's how the hit Spanish heist series ended its third season. (“Part”, to be precise. The new “Part 4” is technically the last half of the second season.) When the fourth season begins, everything is in chaos: the Professor (Álvaro Morte) thinks Lisbon (Itziar Ituño) is dead, Nairobi (Alba Flores) is somehow hanging in there, and Tokyo (Úrsula Corberó) and Rio (Miguel Herrán) have invited the army's wrath. On top of all that, an insider plans to defect.

Panchayat

When: April 3

Where: Amazon Prime Video

Jitendra Kumar (Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan) plays an engineering graduate with dim job prospects during this The Viral Fever (TVF) series, which finds him eventually picking the village council — hence panchayat — during a tiny Uttar Pradesh village. There, he struggles to handle the responsibilities and chart a far better path for his future. Neena Gupta (Badhaai Ho), Raghubir Yadav (Peepli Live!) also star.

Tales from the Loop

When: April 3

Where: Amazon Prime Video

Swedish painter Simon Stålenhag's futuristic art book of an equivalent name is that the foundation for this new sci-fi series, which tells the story of a rural Swedish town where people live above “The Loop”, a machine that has unlocked the mysteries of the universe and delivered to live things that were confined to sci-fi. Rebecca Hall (Vicky Cristina Barcelona), Paul Schneider (Parks and Recreation), and Jonathan Pryce (The Two Popes) star. Nathaniel Halpern (Legion) is the creator.

Modern Family

When: April 9

Where: Disney+ Hotstar

We don't usually usher in ongoing series in our TV guide, but a series finale for a long-running popular show deserves a mention. After 11 seasons and 248 episodes — the two-part hour-long finale will make that a good 250 — the once-brilliant mockumentary about the extended Pritchett clan is prepared to wrap things up. If you've never seen the show, you will need a full five days — that's 124 hours — to catch up. Sleep is for the weak (or dead?).

Run

When: April 13

Where: Disney+ Hotstar

Fleabag's Emmy-winning creator Phoebe Waller-Bridge is an executive producer and recurring star on this comedy thriller that comes from the mind of Waller-Bridge's frequent collaborator, Vicky Jones. In it, a lady (Merritt Wever, from Unbelievable) with an uneventful suburban life drops everything for a pact she made together with her college boyfriend (Domhnall Gleeson, from About Time).

Mrs. America

When: April 16

Where: Disney+ Hotstar

Cate Blanchett leads the power-packed cast — Sarah Paulson, Elizabeth Banks, Uzo Aduba, Rose Byrne, Margo Martindale, and John Slattery the others — in her American TV debut with this miniseries that tackles the story of Phyllis Schlafly, a conservative activist who opposed the Equal Rights Amendment within the 1970s. Three episodes on the release date, with the remaining six weekly thereafter.

What We neutralize the Shadows

When: April 16

Where: Disney+ Hotstar

Based on Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement's 2014 mockumentary horror comedy film, the story of 4 vampire housemates who are cohabitation for many years on New York's Staten Island continues within the second season, which can feature the likes of Mark Hamill (Star Wars) and Haley Joel Osment (Future Man) as guest stars. Two episodes on the release date, and one weekly thereafter.

Fauda

When: April 16

Where: Netflix

After airing over the New Year period in Israel on local TV, the third season of the political thriller — first announced back in December 2017 before the second season released, confirming the series' uber popularity — reaches global audiences. In it, Doron lays a trap for a determined young boxer when a months-long covert mission puts him and his team on the trail of a Hamas leader high on Shin Bet's — the Israeli equivalent of the FBI — wanted list.

Four More Shots Please!

When: April 17

Where: Amazon Prime Video

The all-women quartet — Sayani Gupta, Kirti Kulhari, Bani J, and Maanvi Gagroo — is back for more meaningless sex and rocky relationships within the second season of this romantic comedy-drama, which finds them jetting off to Istanbul and Udaipur when they are not busy living it up within the posh upscale neighborhood of south Mumbai. It stays all women behind the scenes too, with Nupur Asthana (Bewakoofiyaan) the new director, and Ishita Nandy joining her sister Rangita as co-showrunner.

The ghost within the Shell: SAC_2045

When: April 23

Where: Netflix

The Japanese cyberpunk franchise — which received a horrible Scarlett Johansson-starrer live-action adaptation three years ago — further expands with a replacement anime set within the titular year 2045, during a period of a replacement global financial crisis and a time when the planet is engulfed in an AI-driven “sustainable war.” Amidst all that, counter-cyberterrorist force Section 9 has new threats to affect.

Defending Jacob

When: April 24

Where: Apple TV+

Chris Evans (Captain America), Michelle Dockery (Downton Abbey), and Jaeden Martell (It) lead the cast of this thriller miniseries, directed by Morten Tyldum (The Imitation Game), that's supported William Landay's 2012 novel of an equivalent name. In it, Evans' character may be a lawyer whose teenage son (Martell) is accused of murder. Three episodes on the release date, with the opposite five weekly thereafter.

Never Have I Ever

When: April 27

Where: Netflix

Mindy Kaling delivers her own childhood experiences as an Indian-American during this coming-of-age tale, which is about in the present day and follows Devi Vishwakumar (Maitreyi Ramakrishnan), who wants not-a-nerd boyfriend, less hair, and an invitation to a celebration, where she is going to politely decline the alcohol and hard drugs she is going to naturally be offered. Tennis legend John McEnroe drops in as narrator because he's the idol of Devi's dead father.

Penny Dreadful: City of Angels

When: April 27

Where: Disney+ Hotstar

Natalie Dormer (Game of Thrones' Margaery Tyrell) and Daniel Zovatto (Fear the Walking Dead) lead the cast of this dime novel spin-off set 40 years after the events of the first in late 1930s l. a. , during the Golden Age of Hollywood. Dormer plays a shapeshifting supernatural demon and Zovatto is l. a. Police Department's first Mexican-American detective. And since this is often the late 1930s, Third Reich features a role to play also.

Hasmukh

When: April TBA

Where: Netflix

Vir Das may be a co-creator, co-writer, creative producer, and star of the sole Indian original series on Netflix in April, which follows a timid, aspiring, small-town comic (Das) who discovers that he must kill off-stage to kill on-stage. “Kill” naturally implies two very different meanings here. Das has said that the show has elements of crime mystery Dexter and comedy anthology Fargo. Ranvir Shorey (Khosla Ka Ghosla!), Manoj Pahwa (Article 15) star alongside.

Beyond April

We'll have an in-depth round-up of upcoming TV shows monthly, but we do know a good bit about the longer-term already.

Hollywood: Limited Series / May 1, Netflix

Trying: Season 1 / May 1, Apple TV+

Upload: Season 1 / May 1, Amazon Prime Video

Betty: Season 1 / May 2, Disney+ Hotstar

Billions: Season 5 / May 4, Disney+ Hotstar

The Eddy: Limited Series / May 8, Netflix

The Third Day: Limited Series / May 12, Disney+ Hotstar

Central Park: Season 1 / May 29, Apple TV+

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raleigh-ocean · 4 years

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over my skin (where you left your own mark), part 1 | audrey tindall & dara ann lynch

words: 2,604

warning: a bit nsfw-ish? just in case.

summary: series of drabbles about how Audrey got to know, one day at a time, little by little, one of the two women she wished to meet in every one of her lives. Part 1: when Audrey learnt about Dara's tattoos; why they were such important part of her and also how she felt their bond start to deepen.

n/a: I wanted to dwell in their friendship and part of relationship through little drabbles, taking in count I see Dara and Audrey eventually becoming good friends. They are too cute for my own safety and also for Billie’s, that’s all I’m saying.

"When did you say you got those?" Audrey couldn't help but put her hand in the back of her neck, feeling a bit of shame, while she tried to follow with her eyes the way Dara's breathings made her body move softly.

"Mhm when I was...eighteen or so," Dara looked down where she was pulling the side of her old t-shirt up, showing the whole area of her left ribs. The ink there, four names engraved with heavy gothic letters, was something to be afraid of. "First I got my parents, then I got my abuelita when she passed away and a couple years ago, my thirty or thirty-one birthday, I got my abuelo too. He even came with me to the studio! It was awesome, he stayed with us here and all for a few days."

Audrey couldn't help but hide her wince at the remark of Dara's age, but she was really interested in the story behind the woman's tattooed skin.

Billie did have a little something in her ankle, done in a drunk night at college, but her...girlfriend - and Audrey refused to address Dara otherwise, because she was Billie's girlfriend - was full of surprises. She had seen from time to time glimpses of her tattooed tanned skin, but many times they saw each other bare there wasn't much light to dwell on contemplate them. Audrey knew for a fact Billie knew each of them by hand, taking in count how skilled she was in tracing them with quick fingers, but she never got to ask or see them all.

It didn't help that she always felt...shy around the younger woman, so it was a blast the only fact that they were doing this at all. Dara didn't look at her weirdly, her brown eyes lightening up by the only mention of the request, and she had asked right away if it was okay to know about Audrey's tattoos too. That was the part that made her feel ashamed, taking in count the first tattoos Dara showed her had such strong meaning, because her tattoos were kinda... meaningless as to speak.

"You really love your family, don't you darling?" Audrey said seeing how, by the inked names, there were some kind of...triangles? scales? tattooed there. Those were enough to go around her left rib towards her back, and there was a change between black and red here and there.

"My family is the most important thing for me, that's why I have them all close," Dara smiled, tracing with her own fingers those little colored triangles, tickling herself in the process and chuckling. She signaled then the first row, five black scales. "My siblings and I," Dara then moved to another four, another two, and a solitary one. "My cousins," and then signaled to the red scales that conformed the middle gapes in between them. "And my nephews and nieces...I still hope to have a couple more of those, so they have their spots reserved." And then she laughed openly, letting her shirt down to take her lemonade glass from the table.

Kids. Audrey had met them a couple times, taking in count Dahlia also had insisted to bring her over to their childhood home. And it made her feel self conscious all the time, she thought to herself while moving her tea a bit before taking a sip. But now it wasn't time to dwell on that, because she was pretty content by spending some time with Billie's girl.

"And which more do you have?" Audrey asked as soon as she left the teacup over the table and crossed her arms over there too, resting her cheek in her own forearm.

The afternoon was pretty calm, an early spring one, so they were in Billie and Dara's apartment chilling with the kitchen's window open. They never...interacted much if Billie wasn't around, but they had been trying to connect a bit more as of lately because they felt closer after two, almost three, years of being in this relationship they three shared.

And Audrey felt lucky that Dara didn't rejected her when she suggested to have some gathering only the two of them, taking in count Billie would work till late that day.

"You never saw 'em fully, right," Dara said, lifting her short a bit, to show Audrey the start of the bunch of daffodils she had tattooed in her left thigh. "Each one of them, for every time I lost something close to who I am." and it was a mere whisper coming out from her lips while she traced those flowers that seemed to fade a bit when you looked at them in separate groups. "I got one every now and then, so it's an ongoing project. When I met Billie, I had three...now there are seven."

Those flowers were beautiful on their own, without color, and Audrey couldn't help but trace them with her fingertips lightly and making Dara giggle because she tickled her. The meaning of those resonated with her, almost scaring her because of the weight of Dara’s words. How many things did she lose while being with Billie? Audrey was scared to ask that, so she only focused on describing with her eyes the arc that the flowers made from her hip to almost the inside of her thigh. It also helped her to not focus in the state of Dara’s right thigh, which, almost in the same area in which her tattoo mirrored, had the scars from her car accident three years ago. It wasn’t only the cut from where she had surgery, but also where her skin was scratched from when she rolled in the pavement.

Billie had told her about that and Audrey never saw the medium that...wasted and scared and sad. She had promised her to never tell Dara, so she was never going to ask directly either.

“As much as I love them, I won’t like for you to get more,” Audrey joked and Dara laughed, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair, taking a drag of her cigarette. Another little detail that Audrey found fun about the couple it was that they both looked flawless smoking, even when they smoke different kinds of cigarettes. “If that means you lose more things about yourself, then Hell to the no.”

“You’re too sweet with me, darling,” it was then when Audrey heard Dara’s true voice, not the a bit-all-mighty one she was used to hear, watching how she stretched her arm and another tattoo peeked from her sleeve, right in her left biceps, to get more lemonade.

“And what about that?” Audrey signaled, her index pocking where the start of the back of a woman started.

Dara looked down to her arm and then she smiled fondly at that particular tattoo. It was a representation of one card of her deck, the only one she never got in a reading in almost fifteen years that she was doing this. Her grandmother always said she already was the change, that she was everything and nothing at the same time, that Dara proved to be what the rest needed unknowingly. She always felt there, with what her Mamá Alicia said, that it was a really selfish point of view...but one that made sense in a really scary way.

"My...lucky charm, my lucky card," she took advantage to lace her fingers with Audrey's, not seeing how the blonde woman blushed ever so softly with the gesture, and brought their hands towards the skin. The tattoo pictured an almost naked woman clad with a purple cloth and an eagle, a bull, a lion and some kind of human around her. She almost looked like a virgin of some sorts, taking in count various details. "I never got it in my readings to other people or in the few times I got myself a reading"

"You really have to excuse me with this, but I literally have no idea about...reading cards or things like that," Audrey put that face people always had when they learnt what Dara did for a living most of the time. She didn't believe in those kind of things, but she respected it as far as Dara knew, like she did with Billie's line of work as well.

"It's okay," Dara laughed again, clear, but didn't let go of Audrey's hand and placing their still held hands against her tummy, making the older woman to come near her. "This is the card called 'the World'. My abuelita had a card for every one of her children and well, I got that one for myself."

Audrey hummed in response, pensive, and then her eyes fixed for a few seconds in Dara's stomach. She was sure, ninety nine percent if not hundred percent, there was one more under that shirt. Not only because she caught a glimpse of it when Dara showed her the ones in her ribs, but because Billie's hands were always wandering around that area of her girlfriend's body if they weren't touching her thighs.

Dara followed Audrey's gaze until it was obvious where she was looking, making her smile softly because she knew the next and last one really important in her body.

The eye of Horus in the back of her neck was already explained, the one that always gave her protection, and all the tiny meaningless ones - the moon in her left shoulder; the three lines that circled her right forearm near her elbow; the crosses in the inside of her wrists; the little star behind her left ear; and the one she shared with her siblings, four clear dots with a full fifth in the middle, under her left collarbone) were ready to go too along the biggest ones in her body. But that one in particular, the one that defined her breasts from the end of her sternum, was one that always found weird to explain.

Dara had got it before meeting Billie, around the time she still was with her previous partner. She had always loved the idea to get a tattoo there, taking in count how sensitive and erogenous part of her body was, but she also had her doubts about what to get. Until one day she looked up some geometric designs and thought about what made her feel attracted to those hard lines and dots...and then found about what the meaning of lotus was after seeing how many of those forms reminded her of the flower.

The area was basically the very own core of her being, what she truly was and not what the rest made her be or how she was seen by others. Dara knew from where she came from, what was she capable of and, most importantly, why she was still there in this existence in spite of everything that transcended in her life.

Audrey, who didn't know why Dara was so distracted suddenly, didn't move at all in case her companion said something. But what surprised her the most was that Dara's unique reaction was to press their laced hands further to her tummy and slip them under her shirt, going up until Audrey felt how the woman opened their hands so Audrey's was left pressing her stomach.

"I think one day you'll learn about this one," Dara's skin was warm and when Audrey ran her thumb lightly over there, she bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. "Not even Billie knows what it means...so maybe you two find out together." And then she chuckled shyly, letting Audrey touch to her heart content the noticeable ink lines while she lifted her shirt enough for the actress to see the design and some of Dara's stretch marks along the way. "Or I keep it in secret for the rest of my life, who knows."

That last movement was enough to fry Audrey's last bits of sanity and curiosity about Dara's tattoos.

Not only because they were really close, not because Dara's warmth was drawing her in nor because Dara was clearly not wearing bra at all - Audrey found that if she was at home, the younger woman refused to wear it. Now there was something else that was working her up like no tomorrow and she was pretty sure all the touching was the culprit of it.

And, of course, not even Billie coming home in that moment made Audrey to back out of the situation.

Her eyes were firm in holding Dara's gaze, curious and clear yet it was obvious something darker and more intense was building up in her. Audrey pressed softly over the ink, over Dara's stomach, and that made her moan low and soft only for her to hear.

"Oh, what were you two doing without me?" Billie joked somewhere behind Audrey. "Did I arrived on time?"

"I mean," Dara still held Audrey's gaze while taking a last drag of her cigarette and finally standing up, making the actress' hand to fall from its place in her skin. "I think one of you is totally up for it," she started to say while moving towards the master bedroom slowly, taking in count she wasn't using her cane, until she made a halt and took her shirt off. Showing her bare back to the two blonde women in the room, Dara barely looked at them over her shoulder. "And I'm out of my shirt already...so what do you think honey?"

Audrey, even in her hypnotized haze, knew that Dara had Billie hypnotized as well. She didn't need to see the future or read cards or feelings to notice how Billie was probably already worked up just by the way Dara did that. And Audrey hummed softly when her best friend placed her hand over her nape, caressing the short hair there with her thumb, leaning to place a kiss in her pulse point and another one near her ear to whisper there ever so softly.

"Why don't you two warm yourselves up while I get a shower, pumpkin?"

Billie didn't need to say more, because Audrey only needed that little permission to follow the woman that in that moment was making her lose fucking goddamned mind.

Of course the tattoo lesson was one of the most interesting things they did together, Audrey managed to think upon seeing Dara's almost fully naked figure - except her panties, everything was off - the second she put her foot in the room. But as she managed to get some of the sweetest moans from her lover thanks to that, her lips and tongue kissing and tracing invisible paths in her tanned and inked skin, Audrey thought that it got her closer to the unapproachable figure that Dara had meant for her.

It was a good change, she thought when Dara pinned her down to the bed and kissed her hot skin ever so slow, the shower running already in the background.

Maybe a change that would made them finally close that distance both had since the day they three started all of this, having the blonde in the shower as their only common thing between them.

But for the moment Audrey was pretty much content that Dara was letting her have her way around her body, even when her lips still were forbidden to touch, indulging finally in the knowledge of why Billie loved to kiss her girlfriend's stomach so much.

It truly made her whimper in the cutest way Audrey ever heard in her life...cutest and hottest, to say the least.

#audrey tindall & original character #audrey tindall #dara ann lynch #billie dean howard #ahs roanoke #ahs murder house #audrey tindall x billie dean howard x original character #american horror story #original character #over my skin series

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biofunmy · 4 years

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Facebook’s Internal Tensions Are Spilling Beyond The Company’s Walls

In a year teeming with scandals and missteps, Facebook’s latest fiasco has inspired a clutter of leaks, finger pointing, and internal conversations about the future of the company and its leadership. And after more than a year of bad press, internal tensions are reaching a boiling point and are now spilling out into public view.

The tumult is surprising given Facebook’s history as a tight-lipped organization where employees had little incentive to leak information or voice dissent outside the company’s walls. Throughout the crises, Facebook’s CEO Mark Zuckerberg, who maintains majority shareholder control, has proven remarkably immune to outside pressure and criticism — from politicians, investors, and the press — leaving his employees as perhaps his most important stakeholders. Now, as its stock price declines and the company’s mission of connecting the world is challenged, the voices inside are growing louder and public comments, as well as private conversations shared with BuzzFeed News, suggest newfound uncertainty about Facebook’s future direction.

Internally, the conflict seems to have divided Facebook into three camps: those loyal to Zuckerberg and chief operating officer Sheryl Sandberg; those who see the current scandals as proof of a larger corporate meltdown; and a group who see the entire narrative — including the portrayal of the company’s hiring of communications consulting firm Definers Public Affairs — as examples of biased media attacks.

“It’s otherwise rational, sane people who’re in Mark’s orbit spouting full-blown anti-media rhetoric, saying that the press is ganging up on Facebook,” a former senior employee told BuzzFeed News. “It’s the bunker mentality. These people have been under siege for 600 days now. They’re getting tired, getting cranky — the only survival strategy is to quit or fully buy in.”

In a statement to BuzzFeed News, a Facebook spokesperson called this “a challenging time.”

“We are more determined than ever to continue making progress on the issues we’ve faced,” they said. “People at Facebook are focused on building products that help people connect and have a positive impact in the world.”

Two former employees said the spate of negative reports has cast a shadow over the company in recent weeks. Current and former employees describe a tense and, at times, hostile atmosphere inside the company, one in which both senior employees and even staunch loyalists are contemplating their futures.

People are “hoping for a Sundar or Dara moment.”

People are “hoping for a Sundar or Dara moment,” one former senior Facebook employee told BuzzFeed News, referring to past leadership changes at Google and Uber in which founding employees stepped aside from top jobs. A second senior employee echoed the view, suggesting that some inside the ranks are looking for a shakeup to come from the outside. The chatter has made its way outside of the company’s Menlo Park headquarters. “Senior people there know the only way out of this is by hiring a Dara,” a senior executive at a rival company told BuzzFeed News referring to Dara Khosrowshahi, the Uber CEO brought in to replace cofounder Travis Kalanick last year.

Another former senior employee noted a growing sense of paranoia among current employees. “Now, people now have burner phones to talk shit about the company — not even to reporters, just to other employees,” they told BuzzFeed News.

Some former workers have been empowered to bypass the press altogether and speak openly about their situations. Last month, Mark S. Luckie, a strategic partner manager for global influencers who quit in November, posted a 2,500-word memo that he had previously sent internally at the company to his personal Facebook to highlight what he saw as the company’s “black people problem.”

“In some buildings, there are more ‘Black Lives Matter’ posters than there are actual black people,” Luckie wrote, adding that “Black employees are commonly told ‘I didn’t know black people worked at Facebook.’” That post later mysteriously disappeared from Facebook after being flagged for violating the social network’s “community standards” before it was later restored.

These public protestations may be just the beginning for Facebook. Three former employees who spoke anonymously with BuzzFeed News for fear of retribution said that they did not sign paperwork that included language around nondisparagement, and in some cases forfeited their severance pay, upon departing the company.

Some employees at Facebook are required to sign nondisclosure agreements, preventing them from sharing trade secrets, when they first join and are encouraged to sign nondisparagement agreements upon their departure. By not signing that paperwork on the way out, those employees reserved the right to speak openly about their experiences at the company.

“That’s the Sheryl I know”

Drew Angerer / Getty Images

While chairman and CEO Zuckerberg maintains complete control over Facebook, it’s Sandberg who’s taken the brunt of the blame for the company’s recent scandals. As the person who oversees business operations and Facebook’s policy and communications efforts, the COO came under heavy fire for revelations surrounding her role in the disclosure of Russian disinformation efforts during the 2016 US presidential election, and for her subordinates’ hiring of a public relations consultancy that performed opposition research on billionaire investor George Soros.

Sandberg has denied knowledge of the company’s hiring of the public relations firm, Definers Public Affairs, or its political work, but recently admitted that she sent an email asking for research on Soros after he made public comments about Facebook at the World Economic Forum in January. Facebook maintained that request was independent of what Definers ended up working on regarding Soros later that spring.

The external pressure on Sandberg has divided employees across the company. In some recent stories, Facebook’s second-in-command has been portrayed as preoccupied with her own legacy, and as an executive who surrounded herself with loyalists and sometimes prioritized her own brand above the company’s interests.

But some Facebook employees have taken issue with that narrative. Shortly after the publication of a November New York Times story about Facebook in crisis, many employees posted to the company’s internal communications groups, including one called “Women @ Facebook,” voicing their support for Facebook’s COO and sharing personal experiences of working with or for Sandberg, according to two people who had seen the comments.

Some Facebook employees have also shared their views publicly. Matt Jacobson, Facebook’s head of market development and one of its longest-serving employees, called the “roughest of news cycles” a “ very personal attack on Sheryl Sandberg as a leader and a human being” in an internal note he later published to his personal Facebook.

“One does not simply fire the author of Lean In.”

“Schadenfreude runs deep, especially when it comes to someone who has succeeded and brought so many along with her,” he wrote last month.

That echoed a Facebook post by Adam Grant, the co-author of Sandberg’s second book, Option B, and a board member at her foundation Lean In. The post, which objected to the so-called vilification of Sandberg’s character, found sympathetic ears among many Facebook employees, including Justin Osofsky, vice president of global operations and corporate development, and vice president of global marketing solutions Carolyn Everson, who thanked Grant for “sharing the real Sheryl Sandberg with the world.”

“Sheryl’s investment in so many others and particularly in causes for women is something I’m witness to daily,” Janelle Gale, Facebook’s vice president of human resources, commented on the post. “That’s the Sheryl I know too.”

“An intense culture of conformity”

On Blind, a semi-public app that allows current and former employees with a company email to post anonymously, Facebook employees on Facebook-related message boards are openly speculating about and arguing over Sandberg’s fate.

“The board is being questioned for not taking action, but Zuck will side with her like he is spellbound,” one user wrote, asking if the company could find a solution to its leadership struggles. “Shall we have a walkout to let her go like what Google employees did?” another countered, referencing the worker action taken at the search giant in which thousands of employees marched to protest the company’s policies around sexual harassment.

Others argued that bad optics would prevent the company from removing Sandberg, a noted feminist author. “One does not simply fire the author of ‘Lean In’ and pretty much the sole female executive in top leadership,” one Blind user wrote. Another remarked that Sandberg’s personal image was politically polarizing. “Her left-leaning brand has hurt us considerably, we need to mend fences and be seen to be a platform for the left and the right going forward.”

Discussions across Facebook’s Blind page quickly turn tense at the mention of Sandberg. A user with the username “SherylS” expressed frustration at those in the company revering Sandberg as a women’s icon and leader. “It’s time to stand up to these fake opportunist feminist champions though,” they wrote. “‘Give me opportunities to succeed!! I’m a victim!! Lean in!!” the post read.

Some of the disagreement centers on social justice–minded individuals inside the company, pointing to an internal Facebook Workplace group called “Let’s Fix Facebook”: “Just go read ‘let’s fix Facebook’ for a bit and see all the sjw complainers.” Indeed, some inside Blind’s current and former Facebook employee group debated whether Sandberg was insulated from legitimate criticism due to her defenders “playing the woman card.”

“Again [it’s] the female card that has caused so much damage in such a short time, not just at Facebook,” another poster wrote.

Some called Sandberg “a shrewd businesswoman” who would not be intimidated into leaving, while others suggested that Sandberg is bearing the brunt of the criticism that should be directed toward Zuckerberg. “Can’t get anything to stick on Mark? Call the lady COO incompetent,” another user wrote.

“Can’t get anything to stick on Mark? Call the lady COO incompetent.”

But in Blind posts viewed by BuzzFeed News concerning Facebook’s leadership, Zuckerberg is infrequently mentioned and often only brought up in reference to Sandberg’s future. “Zuck is too sentimental towards her and it’s hurt his judgement of the situation,” one post read.

A common narrative across Blind and shared by some current and former senior employee is the notion that Facebook’s troubles have been exaggerated and perpetuated by unjust media coverage. They see the blame cast on the company by the public and the press as reactionary and, in the case of a recent bombshell report by the New York Times, even inaccurate.

“The media will keep attacking and exposing us with more leaks from the inside…this will all go on until she is gone and there is a shakeup,” one person posted.

“I still don’t know what has Sheryl done to deserve being fired? The last I checked most allegations seemed like baseless media propaganda. What am I missing?” one wrote, while another suggested that the “media keeps talking about anti semitic conspiracy theories but the articles lack any clear explanation.”

While only one window into the views of current and former employees, the Blind threads viewed by BuzzFeed News depict a company currently grappling with its culture and issues of loyalty, particularly surrounding Sandberg. Some posts appear even to encourage unwavering, resolute support for leadership during the crisis.

“I love Sheryl. Because Mark loves Sheryl. This is Mark’s company, not yours. He knows Sheryl better than you do and knows what this company needs better than you do. He gives you so much you get confused in your entitled ass that this is your company,” one user wrote. “I trust Mark. And if Mark drives the company into the ground it’s his company to drive into the ground. Go work somewhere else or go start your own company if you know so much better than him.”

Not all agree. “Funny, Hitler’s followers said something similar. We all know how that went,” one user replied.

Broadly, others seem to be questioning the “sycophantic” nature of the conversations across Facebook’s internal Workplace system.

“We have an intense culture of conformity,” one user said. “It could be that this pressure to drink the Kool-Aid and to only talk about positive things is a reason behind the large number of leaks we suffer.”

“2020 will be another shit show.”

“It’s really seeped in the last few years,” another added. “Election season is always the worst too, 2020 will be another shit show.” A third user added, “In this company, if you tell the truth, you are dead.”

For now, as Facebook’s employees debate her future publicly and privately, Sandberg has set her sights on damage control. Still reeling from the revelation that Facebook’s communications and policy team hired a public affairs team to investigate George Soros, Sandberg has been trying to make amends.

According to two sources, she attempted to call Soros last month, within days of the reports about Definers, and left a message after he didn’t pick up. Soros has yet to call her back because he’s been traveling, a source told BuzzFeed News.

“It appears he’ll be traveling for a while,” the source said. ●

With reporting from Caroline O’Donovan.

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