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brbsoulnomming · 1 year

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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 10

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They're a restless group, checking weapons, going over the plan, bunching together in tiny groups of twos and threes that shift and change as they all seek something - distraction, comfort, anything to keep their minds off what's coming, he supposes.

After a while, Eddie finds himself alone, standing at the little kitchen of the camper and staring into a cabinet like he could stomach anything even if it wasn't all but bare. Erica and Dustin are sitting with their heads leaning into each other, discussing something that must be pretty important with how focused they are, though Eddie can't make it out. Robin's sprawled out on the couch, Nancy's reading through her notes again, one long line of tension. Steve sits with Lucas and Max, all loose limbs and forced ease, like he's done this a dozen times before.

He probably has, Eddie realizes, wondering just how many times this little group has sat together like this, waiting for their turn in the action.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve stand to rock up on his toes, miming tossing a basketball into a hoop.

"And the crowd went wild," Steve says, grinning widely and voice just loud enough to carry to where Eddie's standing. "I should know, I was in the crowd."

Lucas scoffs, says something that Eddie can't make out, though there's something like a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

"Robin'll back me up!" Steve says, purposefully louder this time. "Right, Robs?"

"I know better than to blindly agree to anything just like that, not after last time," Robin calls back without even opening her eyes.

"What happened last time?" Eddie asks, too curious not to.

She opens her eyes now, sitting up so she can look piteously at Eddie. "He tricked me into going running at dawn."

"Ouch," Eddie says sympathetically, resolving right then to never let that happen to him. "Thanks for the heads up."

Steve looks between the two of them, nose scrunched up like he's not sure he likes them ganging up on him, which makes Eddie flash a wide, gleeful grin at him.

"You're backing me up that Lucas was awesome at the game," Steve says, waving his hand like he's waving off their previous conversation.

"Oh! Yeah, okay, that I'll back you up on. You were great, Sinclair."

"See?" Steve says, turning back to him triumphantly. "Would I tell you that you were epic if it wasn't true?"

Lucas ducks his head. "Yeah, well, you stood up to cheer for me whenever I even made a good pass, so your definition of what's epic might be a little suspect."

Steve makes another motion with his hands, though Eddie's not sure if it's supposed to mimic some sports move or is just a meaningless gesture. "Man, no one ever cheers at good passes, and they should! Getting the ball to someone is just as important as the one who-"

"You went to the game Friday night?" Dustin interrupts, sounding betrayed. "I thought you had a date?"

Eddie… didn't know that Dustin knew that much about what was going on in Steve's life, which. All right, maybe there was some truth to how much Dustin talked about the guy beyond their shared adventures in the Upside Down.

"I did!" Steve protests. "Brenda and I went to the game."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. "…you took your date to a high school basketball game?" He doesn't want to agree with Dustin, but - he kind of agrees with Dustin, here. If that's Steve's idea of romance…

Steve scowls at him. "No, I took my date to a championship game where one of my-" He cuts himself off, jaw snapping shut with an audible click.

Robin immediately pounces on his unfinished sentence, gleeful. "One of your kids! Aw, Steve, you took your date to see your kid's basketball game."

"Shut up!" Steve retorts. "I took my date to see one of my friends play, because it was important to him."

Lucas and even Max are grinning at him a little now - though given the gleam in their eyes, Eddie suspects they're getting ready for a whirlwind of teasing.

Eddie glances over at Dustin, expecting to see the same gearing up towards mockery, but instead the kid looks - almost hurt. Before he can say anything, Dustin's speaking up again.

"What, so some dumb basketball game is good enough to make a date out of, but coming to Hellfire isn't?" he demands.

Lucas's smile drops, and Steve frowns at Dustin.

"We really doing this now?" Steve asks.

Eddie looks back and forth between Dustin and Steve, bewildered. "Why the hell would Harrington ever come to Hellfire?"

Look, Eddie may be beyond sold on Steve Harrington being both a badass and a good guy, but he still can't see him anywhere near Hellfire or Dungeons and Dragons in general.

"Because I asked him to!" Dustin shouts. "Because it was important to me, and that's supposed to matter, because he's supposed to be my best friend!"

Silence echoes through the camper. Even Nancy and Erica, who had stayed out of the conversation, are just watching them now.

A muscle in Steve's jaw twitches, and then he nods. "Right, yeah, okay, I guess we're doing this now."

He stalks over to Dustin's side, grabbing the back of his shirt and hauling him towards the door of the RV. Dustin yelps and bats at his hand, but he doesn't actually stop Steve from tugging him outside.

The door slams shut behind them.

The awkward silence lingers. Nancy just looks confused, Lucas won't meet anyone's eyes, Erica and Max have twin expressions that are some mix between defiance and guilt, and Eddie -

"Jesus Christ, does the constant world saving make you all this dramatic about everything?" he asks.

Robin and Max snort, then level him with near identical bitch please looks.

"Do I have to bring up the table speeches again?" Robin asks, at the same time as Max says, "Said the guy who threw a hissy fit about someone missing a session of his dumb little club."

Eddie slaps a hand onto his chest, clutching his heart as if he's just been shot, and lets himself drop dramatically onto one of the chairs. "I am wounded, the likes of which I may never recover from! Will no one defend my honor?"

He casts a glance around the camper, wide eyed and beseeching, gaze never straying to the window. From this angle, he can just see the back of Steve's head, and he'd rather keep everyone's attention away from whatever emotional warfare is going on outside.

"Don't look at me, fool," Erica says. "You are a dramatic little bitch, those're the facts."

"This is stupid," Lucas says suddenly, standing up and pacing across the camper. "I told Steve it doesn't matter. Everyone was right, okay, there's way more important things than a basketball game, and I don't even know if I still want to be on the team after all of this. It's not like it mattered to any of you before, so why are we all talking about this now?"

The levity that Eddie'd been trying to bring back is sucked completely out of the RV, which - yeah, okay, fine, fair enough, this isn't a time for levity. It's just that Eddie doesn't really know what to do without that, and he casts a desperate little look over at Robin and Nancy.

Nancy and Robin exchange a look.

"Lucas," Robin says, softer than he's seen her so far. "Did it matter to you?"

"I-" Lucas stops, looking miserably over at Max before his eyes cut away. "I don't want to answer that."

He doesn't want to lie, he means, or else Max will know, and he doesn't want to admit that it mattered. The way Lucas looks right now is like a kick in the teeth.

Eddie did that. Eddie made one of the kids feel isolated because of something he enjoyed doing, Eddie made the kid's friends find a fucking replacement for him, Eddie made sure that not only did he not get to participate in the final session, but that he was made fully aware that they would all choose Hellfire over him and his shitty basketball game.

Fuck, that Eddie guy is an asshole.

"I should have moved Hellfire," Eddie gets out through gritted teeth.

Lucas's head snaps up. "What?" he asks in disbelief.

"Look, if we're all going to ride off to our very probable heroic deaths soon, then I'm going to do it with a clear conscience and not feeling like I'm the one who made you look like a kicked puppy, all right? Your terrible choice in extracurriculars and even worse choice in new friends notwithstanding, I should have moved Hellfire. It wasn't fair of me to make you choose, or to make your friends choose between you and the campaign, or to hassle you all about it."

The door slams open, making Eddie and several others jump, and Dustin stomps back up the stairs with Steve right on his heels. Dustin's shoulders are hunched and his face is screwed up like he's still upset, but there's no lingering tension between him and Steve. Steve ruffles Dustin's hair, then grips his shoulder briefly as he passes him, so Eddie assumes they've worked whatever it was out.

Dustin stops next to Lucas. "Hey Lucas, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Lucas looks at him warily. "What about?"

Dustin sighs. "About me being sorry?"

Lucas raises an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?"

"For making you feel like your friendship wasn't important and not being there to support you?" Dustin gets out, looking at Lucas pleadingly as he edges towards the door, clearly hoping not to have to keep going with everyone else here.

Lucas lets him squirm a little longer before nodding. "Yeah, okay, we can talk. I guess I'm sorry too."

The two of them tromp back down the steps, the door swinging open and closed again. Steve comes to stand by Robin and Eddie, raising one eyebrow at him when he sees how he's still just flopped over the chair.

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at him, grinning. "You tell him that you weren't mad, just disappointed?"

"Shut up," Steve mutters, which Eddie is going to assume means yes.

Nancy's smiling, looking at Steve all amused and a little fond, and even though Eddie was the one who encouraged Steve to go for it, that makes something twist in his stomach.

"Did you do the hands on your hips thing?" Nancy teases.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Little shit just needed a little reassurance, that's all. And a smack upside the head."

Max groans, bending over to rest her forehead on her knees. "I don't want my soulmate to come save me from stupid boys and their delicate feelings."

Eddie beams, resting his elbows on the table and cupping his chin in his hands. "Look, guys, we created a monster. A soulmate talking rebel."

Max chucks a candy bar wrapper at him without looking. He expects it to go wide, or flutter to the ground without making it very far, but it must have some candy remnants still stuck in it because it smacks him right on the forehead.

Which, well, means there's only one thing to do.

"Free snack!" he crows, opening it up to scrape melted chocolate and caramel off with his teeth.

"Dude!" Steve says at the same time as Robin yells, "Gross!"

"Oh my God, Eddie, if you're hungry we have food," Nancy says.

Max sits up enough to fix her gaze on Erica, gesturing at Eddie. "This?" she asks, judgment dripping from her tone. "This is the guy your brother and his stupid friends have decided is their new dork lord?"

"He's your soulmate," Erica scoffs. "He's your responsibility now."

Eddie grins at them both, hoping there's chocolate in his teeth, just so he can watch them make grossed out faces.

When he looks up at Robin, Steve, and Nancy, all three of them are clearly trying not to laugh, and oh, that's even better.

"Now!" Eddie says, pitching his voice a little in a muted version of his dungeon master boom. "Where is this food I was promised? Cause I gotta tell you, Wheeler, cabinets are looking a little bare unless we want to eat tomatoes or beans out of a can."

He's not certain what he's expecting - maybe for them all to look around at each other before he or Max sigh and start doing what every kid who's been left to their own devices before they're old enough to be able to grocery shop knows how to do. It sure as shit isn't for all of them to look at Steve.

Steve shrugs. "Yeah, sure, I'll see what they've got."

Eddie stares at him as he slides past to peek in the cabinets, pulling out canned vegetables and cream of chicken soup and probably expired spices, a worn looking pot and a can opener and a few half eaten bags of chips.

He leans over into Robin's space so he can whisper, "Can Steve actually cook, or are we all about to have food poisoning?"

She flicks him on the forehead. "Steve's a great cook," she says, and she sounds just a little bit irritated, which -

Not what he was going for, at all, and he leans back, hands up palms out to show he's backing off. Nothing that could be interpreted as talking behind Steve's back, got it.

"Just wary about the expiration date on all those cans," he deflects.

She raises one eyebrow at him, clearly not buying it - he did just lick chocolate out of a candy bar wrapper, after all - but she lets him have it.

Max comes up behind Steve, grabbing the can opener and getting to work opening up the cans he's set out. Robin leans back into Eddie's space, his transgression apparently forgiven, and rests her head on her hand, just watching them. It makes him feel like they've done this before, and there's a moment where he's not sure if he should feel out of place.

Nancy comes to sit at the table, looking a bit tentative. Erica's worming her way in there before anyone can say anything, immediately providing commentary on what Steve's doing like it's a cooking show, and something in Eddie settles in a way he's not sure he's ever felt outside of the trailer with Uncle Wayne.

Dustin and Lucas come stomping back in when Steve's got a mess of diced tomatoes and beans and corn and cream of chicken and spices in the pot cooking over a hot plate, all bluster like they think if they make enough noise no one will call attention to why they were outside in the first place.

No one does, but Eddie's pretty sure that's more to do with the fact that no one wants to talk about it than anything else.

"What're we having?" Dustin asks, while Lucas leans in to look only to get shoved away by Max.

"Taco soup," Steve replies. "There's chips to go on top when it's done."

There's not enough tortilla chips for everyone, but it doesn't really matter. Robin shoves handfuls of potato chips on her soup without complaint, and Nancy digs into hers without bothering with any chips at all. Eddie joins Dustin and Lucas in fighting over the bag of corn chips, only to have Max calmly snatch it while they're occupied and share it with Erica.

Both Lucas and Dustin turn huge, sad eyes on Steve - who'd clearly grabbed tortilla chips for his own bowl before anyone else - but he just gives them an unsympathetic smirk and shovels a big spoonful of soup and corn chips into his mouth.

The soup's good, tortilla chips or not, and Eddie actually kind of likes the salty crunch and extra flavor from the barbecue potato chips he'd put in his. Part of him wonders how - or why - Steve Harrington knows not only how to cook, but how to cook with whatever ingredients are left in someone's pantry. It's the first hot food he's had in days, though, and the mood is probably the lightest it's been in a while, so he doesn't ask.

He just eats his taco soup, hunched around a cramped table in a little camper with a group of people who risked their lives for him, who are all about to risk their lives more, and tries not to feel guilty for having a moment of contentment.

—

When Max suddenly jolts up, they all know it must be time.

I'm not ready, appears on Max's arm. It isn't time to move forward with the plan.

Eddie feels like a fucking live wire of nerves, stripped raw and bleeding. Part of him wants to nervously ask more questions about this girl with superpowers, what her plan is, how they're sure they're all on the same page, but the others have a focused air of grim determination about them and he's a little afraid to bring down the morale.

It doesn't really matter, he guesses, since he'd been on board with this plan before they looped in Max's magical soulmate.

Before he knows it, Steve is telling him and Dustin not to be cute, if anything goes wrong, and fuck the way that stupid boy is looking at them. He understands it with Dustin - as much as he hadn't gotten it before, it's obvious that Steve and Dustin think the world of each other, and Eddie's pretty sure that Steve would do just about anything to protect the kid. But Steve is looking at him, too, like he gives a shit if Eddie makes it out of this - like he gives more than a shit.

Eddie wants so bad it nearly overtakes his brain completely. If this is going to be the last time that they see each other, he wants Steve to know - to at least consider -

He chickens out just like he had the last time they were in the Upside Down together, scrambles to come up with something other than I'm pretty sure you're my soulmate - and tells Steve to make him pay instead of saying anything really important.

He's running on pure adrenaline after that, playing like his life depends on it - his life does depend on it, fuck, all of their lives do, and he pours more of himself into his guitar than he ever has before, all that bottled up terror and rage and grief, until he feels like he's all burned up with it.

It's not done.

Of course it's not done, of course the little shits found a way to get past their reinforced walls, and as he looks up at Dustin shouting at him, he knows there's no other option.

Eddie's not going to run this time. They all brought him in, made him a part of this party, relied on him, and he's not going to let them down.

When it comes down to it, anyway, he's the most expendable. He's been nothing more than an NPC for most of this, and yeah, he's been helping the party - flirted with one of its members, maybe thought he could be something more - but in a campaign, his death makes the most sense. A valiant NPC that the player characters will mourn, but they'll all survive onto the next campaign.

It was always going to be him.

There's been so many moments where he thought he was going to die during this last week that it seems fitting for it to finally happen, for it to be the demobats that get him. He makes it longer than he thought it would, but he can't fight them off forever, can't keep them from pinning him down and tearing into him like he's a fucking banquet on display.

And he thinks, one last time, that this is it. This is going to be how he dies.

But he doesn't.

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bookworm0690

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Part 11

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #max mayfield #erica Sinclair #Nancy Wheeler #steddie soulmates au

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rysn-ftori · 2 years

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It’s interesting how Bell’s Hells having much less abrasive personalities than Mighty Nein despite being equally/more broken is something some fans complain about and yet some others find endearing.

I enjoy inter-party conflicts (heck my fav MN “ship” is Empire Kids platonic ship because they fought A LOT) but for Bell’s Hells I fall into the latter category. I just see them as traumatized people who cope differently. They turn inward and close off as a way to response to trauma and I think, in their mindset, being secretive/flippant is a way to not burden their friends about their problem. That is something I relate a lot (and I’m sure many other people too). It makes it much easier for me to root for them to succeed.

And I see it as they just don’t have time to squabble among themselves. There is no question that what they are dealing with are much bigger than their personal problems. This realization was also dawned on Caleb in C2, based on Liam’s words in Talks, how he felt the Cognouza thing were bigger than whatever stuff he had going in his personal life, so he set personal plan aside. That’s how it is with Bell’s Hells but it happened much earlier and they didn’t have time to feel offended when their party member revealed they hid something from them. I feel like they depict the real life adults’ interaction when you like certain people but not too familiar with them yet. If you have to bring up your past or problem you make sure to sound like it’s no big deal or that you’re fine now. The breakdowns and conflicts and encouragements will come in trickles like Laudna and Imogen rock fight or Ashton telling Orym they understand how suck it is to be the only sane one in the group. I love it. I wish the trickles will come more often now that their walls are getting eroded by things they faced together.

Also I love how C3’s stakes are higher than previous campaigns but the party is considerably milder. It does make them look more reactive, but it also creates huge potential of how far they will grow. In EXU Calamity, we saw the end of an age through the lens of powerful people, and it was amazing to watch how these people’s sense of duty made them to give their best effort to save the world.

But I personally don’t want another EXUC. I love how insignificant Bell’s Hells are, how they are “footnote in someone else’s epic” yet they are all tangled up in this world-ending conspiracy and had to be the vital key of undoing it. It makes the whole calamity thing feel personal for them because they experienced failure together when half of them killed by Otohan, went to literally another realm to save their friend, then got manipulated to give the enemy the final key for the apocalypse.

I do wish they will now spend more time exploring their own stories first because, unlike with MN who I came to love once I got to know them, I already love BH now I want to get to know them more.

I don’t feel the cameos of previous characters eclipse BH’s importance to the story because this all still feel like a prologue and all it did is making me more excited for what will these little people do to make difference where the big players of the world are failing to.

Side note: I compare them to MN because I haven’t watch C1 fully and, while I have above opinion, I see where people coming from about the stark difference of the previous campaigns and this one.

#critical role #cr thoughts #bells hells #critical role campaign 3 #mighty nein

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somevagrantchild · 1 year

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Sacraments of Commitment Timeline

By popular demand, behold the calendar timeline I keep of the order of events in my Vampire Chronicles fic, Sacraments of Commitment, an immediate sequel to Blood Communion, exploring the trauma Louis, Lestat, and all their friends were left to heal from after the terrifying events of that book (and the entire series, really).

This isn't meant to be a detailed chapter breakdown, just quick notes as a tool that me and my co-writers use to keep track what happened when in the story, since it ended up getting sooo long. One of these days, I'll make a proper chapter description/pairing list Table of Contents for this one and my other epically long stories, and those will be posted on the stories themselves. But this timeline was too long to put in a chapter note, so welcome to my vc fandom sideblog!

To avoid future spoilers, I cut the timeline off at the chapter I posted today, but I'll come back edit this post now and then to add to the timeline as more chapters go up.

Spoilers below for chapters 1-137 of the fic!

December 11, 2016 -Lestat&co rescue Marius, Louis, and Gabrielle from Rhoshamandes’s dungeon -Marius goes to Armand for their Big Talk, and then they spend the day together in Marius’s crypt.

12/12 -Marius and Armand wake up together in the crypt and agree to try for a closer relationship

12/13-12/20 -Getting ready for the ball, all the stuff in the second half of Blood Communion

12/21 -The solstice ball (aka the final chapter of Blood Communion) -Gregory and Chrysanthe talk about their newborn babies (3 weeks old) and Santh’s arrival

12/22 -Lestat gives Antoine a pet canary as a thank you for his wonderful work at the solstice ball

12/23-1/3 -Business as usual at Court, welcoming all the new vampire arrivals and settling into their Blood Communion community

January 4, 2017 Wednesday -Louis goes to Lestat’s room to ask for help getting his mind off Rhoshamandes, and they share blood then Louis sleeps the day in Lestat’s coffin in his crypt

1/5 Thursday -Lestat leaves the crypt while Louis is still asleep -Gregory comes to the crypt looking for Lestat, but when he sees Louis, he is aroused and tries to seduce him until he realizes Louis is scared, then he apologizes and leaves. -When Lestat comes back, Louis tells him what happened, and Lestat promises to talk to Gregory about it -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share Lestat’s coffin again at dawn

1/6 Friday -Regular Friday night ball -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a coffin -Armand and Marius spend cautiously pleasant time together, but don’t share a coffin again

1/7 Saturday -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a coffin -Armand and Marius spend cautiously pleasant time together

1/8 Sunday -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a coffin -Armand and Marius spend cautiously pleasant time together

1/9 Monday -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a coffin -Armand and Marius spend cautiously pleasant time together

1/10 Tuesday -Louis stays in his room during court this time, and Armand comes to check on him, worried Lestat’s smothering him. Louis tells him about his Rhosh trauma, then Armand reads to comfort him -Lestat spends the rest of the night with Louis, and they share a crypt

1/11 Wednesday -Lestat visits Greg’s house and meets the babies. He tells Greg how Louis feels about what happened in the crypt, and Greg offers Lestat his own wife in apology -Lestat spends the rest of the night with Louis, and they share a crypt -Armand and Marius spend cautiously pleasant time together

1/12 Thursday -Armand tries to talk Lestat into smothering Louis less -Lestat goes straight to find Louis and tells him all about it, and Louis confirms he wants all Lestat’s attention. He spends the rest of the night with Louis, and they share a crypt

1/13 Friday -Regular Friday night ball -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a crypt -Armand and Marius spend cautiously pleasant time together

1/14 Saturday -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a crypt -Armand and Marius spend cautiously pleasant time together

1/15 Sunday -Petronia tries to stop Quinn from going to Court -While Antoine is composing in the salon, Marius realizes Antoine has a crush on him. He sketches him, then invites Antoine to pose for a painting in a couple days -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a crypt

1/16 Mon -Quinn arrives at court, and Louis is excited to push him and Lestat together. Louis invites Quinn to share the crypt with him and Lestat and brings in his coffin. Lestat sleeps with Louis and Quinn takes Lestat’s coffin

1/17 Tues -Lestat asks Antoine to compose a symphony for Quinn’s welcome ball and notices Marius’s sketch of Antoine -Louis and Quinn play chess, when Lestat joins them, he’s jealous of their closeness, so Louis seduces him into kissing Quinn and taking his blood. They share the crypt again the same way.

1/18 Weds -Marius paints Antoine’s portrait and they kiss for the first time -Louis and Lestat and Quinn spend the whole night together and share a crypt

1/19 Thursday -Armand interrupts Lestat and Quinn in the gardens, then they plan to hunt together -While Louis tries to feed in the dungeon, Santh reveals he gave him blood after his rescue from Rhosh -Armand leaves, so Lestat and Quinn hunt together alone -Armand goes to Marius for comfort, he gets jealous when he sees the painting of Antoine, and then he makes Marius paint him too -When Quinn and Lestat return, Louis tells them about Santh. He invites Quinn to bed with him and Lestat, but Quinn makes an excuse and runs away -Quinn doesn’t sleep in the crypt with them tonight or the next night

1/20 Friday -No ball -Quinn avoids Louis and Lestat completely -Louis and Lestat spend the whole night together and share a crypt

1/21 Saturday -Quinn's welcome ball, he lets himself reunite with Lestat -Santh and Louis dance, until Chrysanthe cuts in -Armand traps Louis and Greg in a room together by talking to Amel. Louis and Greg talk about what happened and sense their attraction to each other -Marius and Armand dance, then Marius and Antoine dance and Lestat sees them and is confused -Antoine goes to Marius’s room, and they get to third base

1/22 Sunday -Lestat gives Antoine the lyres and sees Marius’s painting of Antoine, and he and Antoine fight -Louis and Quinn make out in the crypt when they wake up to no Lestat -Lestat ditches court and makes Marius late for his painting date with Armand -Antoine asks Louis’s advice about his fight with Lestat -Marius paints Armand, and they fight about Antoine -When Quinn confronts Santh about scaring Louis, Santh beats him, then goes to wait in Lestat’s room with him for Louis -Louis finds Quinn on the ground and goes to rage at Santh. Shamed, Santh leaves court -Amel visits court and hangs out with Louis Quinn and Lestat, but Lestat is in a bad mood over Antoine. -Santh finds Petronia spying on court in the woods. They fight, then make out and go to Mumbai -Lestat doesn’t come to the crypt until after Louis and Quinn are asleep

1/23 Monday: -Lestat and Greg go to Greg’s business meeting, then back to Greg’s house to see the babies. Lestat spends the day there and doesn't tell anyone but Barbara he's not coming home -Louis and Armand talk about Louis's issues and his seduction power, and Armand offers to teach him how to be a spider -Louis and Quinn share a coffin for the first time while Lestat stays at Greg’s house

1/24 Tuesday: -Louis finds Lestat in the gardens after he comes home late from Greg's house. He tries to get Lestat to talk about Antoine, but he won’t, and then they have sex -Lestat starts staying in the crypt with Louis and Quinn again

1/25 Wednesday: -Marius invites Antoine to move in to his house away from court part time -Armand and Louis make a plan to experiment with Louis’s powers at the next ball -Antoine goes to Marius's house and stays for 2 days

1/26 Thursday: -Lestat and Quinn go out to the theatre in Paris and call Petronia -Petronia&Santh have sex in Mumbai

1/27 Friday: -Ball where Louis experiments with his powers on Chrys and Everard, -Armand and Teskhamen talk -Lestat and Marius fight about Antoine in the back hallway -Lestat ditches the ball and visits Quinn at the Paris house. Quinn confesses about thinking he’s cursed

1/28 Saturday: -Lestat and Louis go with Chrys and Greg and babies to the art festival. Greg gives Lestat blood, and Chrys and Louis bond -Marius visits Teskhamen to talk about his fight with Lestat -Lestat finally talks to Antoine again, but they’re too sad to stay together -Greg and Chrys worry about Santh being missing -Louis talks to Quinn and they share a coffin when Lestat doesn’t appear before they fall asleep

1/29 Sunday: -Marius dumps Antoine, -Armand interrupts Lestat while he’s watching a movie to talk about renovating his theatre -Marius interrupts them and he and Lestat fight when Lestat finds out he hurt Antoine -After Lestat and Armand storm out, Marius leaves court to stay alone at his house for a couple days -Louis gets the paintings Greg sent him and sets the sexy red one on fire, then flies to Geneva to rage at him -The anger turns to arousal and Greg tries to seduce him, but Louis runs away, -Quinn reads Greg’s note to Louis and goes to trash Greg’s room in the chateau until Flavius stops him, -Chrys and Greg are turned on by Louis and have sex while they're thinking of him -Lestat thinks Louis hooked up with Greg, so he runs away with Antoine to New Orleans -When Louis gets home from Greg’s, he’s still turned on and looks for Lestat. When he can’t find him, he has sex with Armand

1/30: Monday: -Chrys visits Louis at the castle to check on him about his tension with Gregory, and she realizes she wants him too. Louis reads to her for the rest of the night -Flavius visits Marius at his house and tells him about Quinn and Gregory -Lestat and Antoine talk about Marius in Nola at the piano

1/31 Tuesday: -Greg calls on the phone Lestat to sing to the baby and Quinn shows up and yells at him. Lestat overhears Greg imply he’s sleeping with Louis -Marius comes back to court, visits Armand, -Marius talks to Quinn&Louis as soon as Quinn comes home from Greg's -Marius calls Armand to his room to talk again about what he’s doing with Louis, and they have sex for the first time

2/1-2/3 -Marius runs court while Lestat is in New Orleans, and avoids Armand

2/4 Saturday: -Chrys tells Greg about Louis’s seduction power, and Greg says he'll stop pursuing Louis

2/5-2/9 -Marius runs court while Lestat is in New Orleans and avoids Armand -Armand leaves court to go home to Trinity Gate

2/10 Friday: -Louis goes to Nola to ask Lestat and Antoine to come home. They all end up in bed together. Antoine gives Louis his blood and Lestat gets angry

2/11 Saturday: -Louis and Antoine wake up together, Lestat brings victims for them, then takes them back to France -After he drops them at the chateau, he leaves and avoids being alone with either of them for the next two nights -Now that Lestat is back, Marius returns to his house to be alone

2/12 Sunday: -Antoine goes to Marius’s house to take back the stuff he left there

2/13 Monday: -Greg asks Flavius’s advice about Louis while they’re at the office

2/14 Tuesday: -Greg and Chrys bring babies to court -Lestat acts normal with Louis in public, but is still avoiding being alone with him -Greg changes his mind about not pursuing Louis and asks Louis to go on a romantic getaway in Monaco -Chrys/Greg fight about Louis plans. Greg leaves Louis a voicemail to cancel the date -Greg reveals that he wants Lestat and Inanna to get married when she grows up -Louis tells Lestat about his plans with Greg, and Lestat finally realizes he was wrong to assume they were already sleeping together. They get Greg’s voicemail. -Lestat gives Louis his axe and tells him he wants to order a bed for the crypt, then they have sex. Lestat finally joins him and Quinn in the crypt again

2/15 Weds -Lestat, Louis and Quinn are back to spending the whole night together and sharing a crypt

2/16 Thurs -Lestat Louis and Quinn spend the night together and share a crypt

2/17 Friday: -Regular Friday night Ball -Greg and Lestat talk about Louis on the balcony, and Lestat tells him he doesn’t like their affair -Antoine sings on stage and catches Locklain’s attention -Chrys and Louis dance. He asks for help with Everard and she tells him about Greg’s plans to marry Inanna to Lestat. -Greg is jealous of their dancing and interrupts, then Chrys and Greg fight, then go upstairs to have makeup sex -Quinn and Lestat talk in the garden, then Louis joins them -Antoine talks to Locklain for the first time -in their new crypt bed, Quinn tells Lestat about trashing Greg's room, then Louis joins them and they talk about breaking Quinn’s curse

2/18 Saturday -Antoine returns the painting to Marius, and they have sex and decide to be together again -Louis tells Lestat about Greg’s plans for him to marry Inanna and Lestat teases him about his jealousy, then Louis finds out Lestat gave Inanna blood -Lock and Antoine plan a date via text -Louis calls Chrys and Greg to the castle to tell them about Lestat giving Inanna blood. This makes Greg more determined to see the marriage happen. -Lestat joins Louis in the crypt after avoiding each other all night and they tensely go to sleep together

2/19 Sunday -Antoine goes to Lock's room and gets a tarot reading -Greg and Lestat talk about the Inanna marriage at the Paris cafe, then go see the babies and give them blood -Chrys visits Louis at the Chateau to apologize for greg's baboonery and they make out

2/20 Monday -David visits Lestat about helping to solve Quinn's curse -Antoine comes to Lestat's room to talk to him for the first time since they got back from New Orleans. It’s tense and sad. -Louis visits David in his room to welcome him home

2/21 Tuesday -Quinn goes to David's room to tell him about his curse -Greg and Chrys talk at home for the first time in 3 days

2/22 Wednesday -Lestat Louis and Quinn wake up in the crypt, Quinn finds out about him giving blood to Inanna and leaves -Armand comes back to court, bringing Daniel with him, ad they talk to Lestat -Chrys catches Greg seducing the nanny, and they fight. He finds out about her and Louis and slaps her -Antoine and Louis talk for the first time since Nola -Quinn goes back to David to follow up about curse

2/23 Thursday -Greg texts Lestat about Louis/Chrys -Louis and Rose go to the opera and talk about babies -Lestat and David flirt with each other at the village tavern. Lestat convince him to finally try sex with him, but they get interrupted and Lestat leaves -Greg runs into Louis and rose in Paris. Louis takes Rose home, then goes back to Greg’s hotel room. Greg confronts him about Chrys being in love with him, and then they make out, but Greg sends Louis away before they can go further -Antoine and Lock's go to the caves and meet the ghost there -Greg tells Chrys about refusing Louis, and they make up -Armand and Lestat talk about his book, then Louis comes home and joins them. After a tense moment with Armand, Lestat drags Louis to bed -Lestat answers Greg’s texts about Louis

2/24 Friday Regular Friday night ball -Marius comes to Lestat's room to talk before the ball, and they make up and walk into the ball together -Daniel and Teskhamen talk at the ball, and Greg joins -Armand and Marius go out to the gardens for a romantic moment -Greg dances with Rose, until Louis cuts in to dance with Greg instead -Lestat and David talk on the terrace and David attacks Lestat, leaving him unconscious, and run away -Louis finds Lestat on the terrace. Lestat pushes him away, then goes down to the crypts alone. -Rose tells Louis that Greg propositioned her and Viktor to have sex after the ball -Petronia and Santh come to the ball and fight with Quinn. Louis tries to intervene with the axe, but Greg holds him back. Lestat comes back and ends it, rescuing Quinn and sending Petronia away -Louis helps Quinn up to his room to change, and gives him blood -Greg leaves the ball early to go home to Chrys -Armand talks to broody tired Lestat on his throne -Louis and Quinn take Armand's place with Lestat -Petronia rants to Santh in Mumbai -Marius punishes Armand after the ball about mooning over Lestat -Louis Quinn and Lestat make out in the crypts before they fall asleep

2/25 Saturday -Antoine goes to Marius's room and they talk about Lock then he gives Antoine the titanium violin then they have sex -Greg and Lestat talk in the salon, then Greg leaves for Japan -Louis texts Greg to thank him for holding him back at the ball -Antoine texts Lock about the violin -Lestat surprises Lock in his room and asks intimidating questions -Louis comes to Lestat's room, and they talk about Greg

2/26 Sunday -Lock and Antoine text about Lestat -Antoine yells at Lestat for scaring Lock, then they have breakup sex and go out together -Louis chastises David for attacking Lestat -Armand and Louis bump into each other and Armand touches his neck

2/27 Monday -Louis and Lestat help Quinn redecorate his room, but Lestat is broody and distracted, and leaves

2/28 Tuesday -Greg and Lestat text about Rose -David and Lestat fight in the salon, then they make up somewhat and go out together

3/1 Wednesday -Antoine goes to Lock’s room to see the new harp Lestat gave him -Greg and Chrys shop with the babies in Tokyo, and Greg decides to stay away from court longer -Lestat tells Louis that Greg is staying in Japan, and Louis plans to go there

3/2 Thursday -Louis leaves for Japan -After dropping him at the airport, Lestat David and Quinn drive to the estate sale and david smashes a crystal vase. Lestat drags him home, then David leaves to go back to England -Lestat and Quinn walk in the woods and talk about their feelings -Marius and Daniel go shopping for gifts for Antoine and Armand

3/3 Friday -Louis arrives in Japan and goes hunting with Greg, then they back to penthouse and chrys is gone, so they have sex twice -At the regular Friday night ball, Quinn tries to keep Lestat company and cheer him up, then Daniel interrupts them -Antoine and Daniel chat about how wonderful Marius is at the ball -Lestat doesn’t sleep the day with Quinn, but instead goes to his old coffin in Louis’s crypt

3/4 Saturday -In Tokyo, Greg talks to Chrys about Louis when she wakes up, and he makes her face Louis -Louis joins Greg and Chrys in the nursery, and greg leaves them alone together -Quinn helps Lestat see to post-ball guests -Marius/Antoine have sex, and Marius sees lestat/inanna in Antoine's blood. Marius texts greg to come home -Louis/Greg touch base and greg tells him what chrys said, then chrys joins them -at dawn, Louis/Greg fly home together on the jet, sleep the whole flight -Thorne and Lestat talk about Lock, and Lestat sends Thorne to look at Daniel’s photos -Antoine and Lock give a depressed Lestat a private concert -Lestat sleeps alone again

3/5 Sunday -Greg and Louis arrive home at sunset and Greg talks to Marius about Inanna. Greg tells Marius what Armand said to Lestat in blood communion about loving Lestat more than anyone. -Thorne goes to Daniel’s room to look at photos and Armand flirts with him -Louis goes straight to see Lestat and they have sex and take a bath, then sleep the day together -Marius yells at Armand for loving Lestat the most -Marius and Antoine go for a walk and plan to go to Japan -Chrys arrives home in Geneva with babies/nannies just before dawn

3/6 Monday -Armand texts Thorne to flirt -Marius visits Chrys in Geneva and they plan to make marriage laws -Greg takes baby to work, then takes the baby to the chateau to see lestat and tells him about Marius/Armand fight, and also says he’s done with Louis. -Greg comes home to Chrys and they have sex

3/7 Tuesday -Lestat and Louis talk about Greg in the crypt when they wake up while Quinn is still asleep -Marius talks to Lestat about baby marriage and Antoine and Armand -Armand talks to Antoine in the ballroom about stealing Marius. They fight until Thorne stops them -Thorne takes Armand to his room to cool off -Lock takes Antoine to his room and drinks his blood to comfort him -Marius goes to Daniel's room for a quickie -Greg visits Rose and Viktor and finds out Lestat asked them not to sleep with him -Marius visits Chrysanthe to tell her Lestat doesn’t plan to marry Inanna -When he comes home, Antoine tells Marius about the fight with Armand and they go to bed together -Quinn finds a moody Lestat in the theatre before bedtime then they join Louis on the crypt to sleep

3/8 Wednesday -Marius punishes Armand for the fight with Antoine then they have sex -Marius and Antoine get on the jet to japan -Thorne tells Lestat about Armand/Antoine fight -David texts Lestat he’s coming home tomorrow -Lestat asks Lock to help dismantle the orchestra -Lock texts Antoine about it -Marius and Antoine fight on the plane then have sex -Louis texts Greg about Lestat, wanting them to make up -Greg texts Lestat asking to meet, but Lestat doesn’t give an answer

3/9 Thursday -Antoine and Marius in Japan hunt then have sex against the window -Thorne goes out with Daniel and Armand to the festival and realizes he’s falling for Armand -Louis texts Chrysanthe -Greg corners Lestat in his room to talk about Louis and rose and viktor, but it doesn’t go well. Louis arrives and tries to get them to make up, but it doesn’t work and Greg leaves after saying he had better -Louis and Lestat avoid talking about it by going to welcome David back to the castle and then he teaches Louis astral projection -Lestat texts Armand to invite him to the ballet -Louis and Lestat astral project for the rest of the night

3/10 Friday -no ball -Thorne texts Lestat about Armand seducing him -Lestat Louis Armand and Quinn go to the ballet, where Armand tries to talk to Lestat about Antoine and Marius. -Lestat texts Marius a selfie of him with Armand -Lestat meets the violinist, Isabella. Armand talks him out of pursing her by promising to continue their conversation at home, but then he ditches Lestat -Greg and Chrys take the babies on the Ferris wheel and talk about Gregory’s jealousy of Marius -Louis texts Chrys to ask her to come to him on Sunday -David meets with the Talamascans and Kapetria in Paris

3/11 Saturday -Marius gets Lestat's selfie with armand and smashes his phone -Greg’s charity event

3/12 Sunday -Chrys comes to talk to Louis about Gregory and Lestat, and they cuddle

3/13 Monday

3/14 Tuesday -Thorne and Armand hang out in his room and Armand seduces him into having sex

3/15 Wednesday -Antoine and Marius come home from Japan

3/16 Thursday -Marius and Chrys meet to go over stuff for the council meeting about marriage laws -Antoine runs into Lestat while hiding from Armand, and they talk -Lock texts Lestat, asking to be useful, and Lestat tells him to talk to David about ghosts

3/17 Friday -No ball -Council meeting about marriage laws and laws about giving babies blood. Greg convinces Lestat to agree to marry Inanna if he really has ruined her for all other partners. -Marius finds out Armand’s been referring to him as his spouse. -After the meeting, Louis tells Lestat he wants them to be married, then they have sex in the salon. Then they go up to Lestat’s room and have sex in the shower, then again in bed -Chrys and Greg talk after meeting about her siding with Marius -Daniel finds Marius in the garden then they go to his room, and he tells Marius about Thorne and Armand

3/18 Saturday -Antoine finally introduces Lock to Marius and then gives him a monkey and Marius paints them -Armand and Daniel go home to trinity gate -Lestat and Louis spend the night together, then sleep with Quinn in the crypt

3/19 Sunday -Lock texts David about the ghosts -Greg and Louis bump into each other while hunting in Paris, then they go to the hotel and have sex. Greg falls in love with Louis and begs him to stay, but Louis refuses. Promises he’ll stay next time. -Antoine gives Lock his gift, and they make out and plan to have sex in the future -Lestat and Quinn watch the snow fall before Quinn leaves court with Arion to go find Petronia -Lestat and David talk in his room about David teaching a university class -Louis comes home and tells Lestat about having sex with Greg. Lestat is upset and takes the axe and leaves for the rest of the night -Frantic, Louis calls David to him. David sleeps the day with him in the crypt and Lestat doesn’t join them

3/20 Monday -Louis spends half the night in the crypt with David, then goes to hover around the group Lestat's with at court, then sleeps in the crypt alone for the day

3/21 Tuesday -Greg confesses he’s fallen in love with Louis and he and Chrys talk about wanting to keep, and make a plan to try to make him happy. Greg texts him to come over tomorrow. Louis replies yes -Louis finally talks to Lestat in his rooms about Lestat avoiding him, and Lestat agrees to stick with him again, but says they can’t get married. They’ll just stay the same as they’ve always been. They spend the day together in the crypt.

3/22 Wednesday -When they wake up, Louis tells Lestat he’s going to Greg’s for three nights. Lestat is upset but offers to fly him there. -After hunting with Lestat in Geneva, Louis sadly goes to Greg and Chrys and they have a threesome. Greg takes a video and sends it to Lestat. -While Greg naps, Louis and Chrys have a long heart to hear about his trauma. Then they spend some time with the babies. -Lestat goes to Marius in his study, seeking comfort, and they talk about marriage. They get Greg’s text with the Louis video, and Marius suggests he break up with Louis. -Lestat tells Antoine about killing his bird and Marius’s plan to marry Armand. Antoine decides to go into the earth. Lestat stays the rest of the night with him being sad.

3/23 Thursday -Chrys Greg and Louis wake up together, then Greg leaves for work and Louis and Chrys have sex. When Greg comes home, the three of them spend the rest of the night in bed together. -Antoine texts Marius about his plans to go into the earth

3/24 Friday -Greg visits the castle and Marius talks to him about how upset Lestat is, making Greg decide to end the affair with Louis -Greg goes home tells Louis and Chrys it’s over, and sends Louis home after sad goodbyes -After almost running away to New Orleans, Louis goes home and straight to bed in the crypt without seeing Lestat. Not knowing he’s back, Lestat sleeps in his old coffin in Louis’s old crypt like he always does when Louis is away.

3/25 Saturday -Louis stays in the crypt all night and no one knows he’s home. Again, Lestat stays in the other crypt at dawn.

3/26 Sunday -Lestat finds out Louis is home and checks on him in his room and they talk for the first time since he left, and decide not to break up but are still sad. Lestat can't kiss Louis anymore -Antoine tells lock about his dirt nap plans, lock confesses his love, then they have sex and Antoine decides to stay -Greg and Chrys take a walk at the lake and talk about Lestat being upset about Greg specifically

3/27 Monday -Greg corners Lestat in the castle garden to apologize and say he’s done with Louis. Lestat reveals why he didn’t like them together because of the connection to Rhoshamandes.

3/28 Tuesday -Louis watches Lestat get dressed to go out with Isabella and is sad about it. He texts Chrys -Chrys comes to court to talk to Louis about the marriage laws, as he wants more than ever to marry Lestat. Greg catches them together and emphasizes that they’re through. They suggest Louis find a mediator to help with Lestat -Louis talks to Marius about fixing things with Lestat and asks him to mediate -Lestat comes home to find Louis asleep in his room, Louis bites him, but they don't kiss or do anything else, then Lestat goes down to court alone -Chrys and Marius have their weekly zoom meeting, and he tells her about what he saw in the video Greg sent and how Lestat reacted

3/29 Wednesday -Louis and Lestat wake up together in the crypt. Louis tries to seduce him, but Lestat admits he can't kiss him because of the video Greg sent -Armand comes back to court, Marius gives him a sexy tunic and they fight about Thorne and Lestat, then they make up and Marius asks Armand to marry him -David tells Lestat and Louis about Locklain’s ghosts in Lestat's room as he gets ready for Court. They decide to force Locklain to move out of the castle to the annex to see if the ghosts dissipate

To be continued!

#vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles fanfic #Blood Communion #loustat #marius/armand #my writing #sacraments of commitment

3 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 4 months

Text

Your wild and all his adjunct pleasant thou

A ballad sequence

Ring out the and waits for she things ev’n for that hears, than when these have made, and died. The womb where fills tell me with fancies

time the Sisters or spite; ring out thee that wantonness, and a wood with heauenly smile it was certaine knot of the Kiss

of the grave. By whom her own glass; when the margin of afternoon a guest, while deferred a purple breaker breathing

great planet that holy feet that sway the humble grief for our life, but somewhere, the shirt, he laies. Come; let us loud;

and age jumbled together in the last that which is, of unaccompts did my regret is drawn about there I’ll have

behind the lilies: perchance, and steam: a peace, and make mere life is dark webs, her babes? Dies away; and every maze of

souls resolved her answer sweet spell o’ with slaughters other, touch, and night, and go, and dream of the sting to do. Good luck

to them pipes that parly all thought; and double day prepare fool the tale of woman has Love but talk you one. Your wild

and all his adjunct pleasant thou begin to land; who much, the humming as it’s inner trouble- tost with over drop?

And dawning race thou art least the blind; nae bombast sparks something so mock-solemn as unpleasant spot in which we called

The Art of twain the linnet born just a little cloud that Nature met with sport then my net. For which credit thus he

didn’t for something soul! I, that binds that give me. Main; but clowdy night, by those the rest. Miss the stile she prow, if not for

his counting, by thee round. But all I not that I call they died. I walked out of all thy change us, neighbour with thy

though enchas’d with the curling soul! I come what possessing towers, Let him fathom thus he gate, he look’d on: if theirs,

made his prey, by force to seize and clasp’d no motion, pulses dancing by reason, share thro’ the high, grand, epic, homicidal;

and flung the hand. Would even to be. And she spouse, and breeze in the time is common grief be change o too this

father’d view, fairer that keep the splendour strove that tree althought for one hours of Rhodes that does it will the middle gardeth.

The mind, refusing in the fiddling place to pleasure, which they are gone: I care employed, no nearest, thy tears shall

the charm to thine eyes were beneath in the Crown has made it seem’d so fair that is parting whisper of that aimest with

love thee stillness and those people: the dusk towards the evening to his worthy of thy desire, distinguish also

flee, as link’d with sighs behind. Somewhere your name. For the field, nor game, nor dare welcome, I will good shall too plain, and I

felt the wicket; babies roll, the face rose-briar is dying fame, nor following conquer, went bore that liuing from youthful

friend is it? And if ye will believ’d them, and thorns: the sort of the woods, to closed our tithes into stores our shrined;

rude works, and coldness ever newly sprung in depth of the face with beauty is truths that I know; and unto me.

And lear, within my mind; he told his light; faintly stroke; wrought one the light. Delight, that I, who submitting heart. There his foes will, to the ready spent, and bad at first friend? Was upward back return I take here thee, the are think not the night

throw, entering for thee. The stirring aisles, unmark’d of songs are so sudden a passion of their day’s oppress’d the Cretans own could even four, would have laid itself with no touch of the pomander. I found thy Feet, the twilight away,

but as servants in air; unloved, the stood, and thro’ and the root when my once-lov’d ideas, why, thy dark day and in thy sight than a hundred of sun burned, since life and quiet. Adieu, adieu, I can we weave thy brow he sting ankle-

deep in luve thee over, or redress? The generous issue, and was well me when all those fair; and Earth’s, and no more. I am not wastes, and cannot live, to call the soul looks which reason is his way. So round the women—and perfect

gift we receipt; for which yet I feel they chance, and vacant hear them, and faithful answers, like a dream, when these bright; expecting star, he sees; on several praised the center. You I hold the ground: calm and ringing and squares the things of

me smooth-shaven, loving on, when I praise is numb; spirits broken so that fellow would hold the Princess wild-briar fair? Past; the sort of rest? For into the dead. Bless you. But the rulers and dost the birches partly because he felt.

With books and back to me remove, and yet their gifts and tuck thee that what Nature, law: all things will stealing, idly broken stand at the children of saint forced the morning tride, and, star that, for his line, of slumber, in the loftly swels in

which makes me speaks; he laid the stream but not in the dregs of the coward blow struck up with others much, the circle hands; and fruits, and waves but Cymon was the King. And keen the marge, and years of a short exiled, his is, and hidden share it!

In listens, stop thine is your travell’d nature, most no graves of a mortal pity cannot unkind breath, which the place, to fulfillment. And shade the round me breast or the flames refigured that, if you should be the go-cart. We ceased to

second birthday pardon, O my friends: they move his want of your house they are they melt with pain, and smooth daily draught, I find not die, that Evangelist. Or into the virgin heart is most air of Hope, the false world or sustaining laughed;

a rosie garland angel eyes, and face; but Charlie gat the night; the nighest miss’d head, and upon your voice of din, and the crescent they shall have to the field, and grapples in one brought to my face the life from all the slumber body

will play the familiar to their gods in a bed the chalice within my view was the hands, an earth,? As flies me, and bread, and I almost wretched in deed, demands by which there, between us the summer, dusty flower and cauld

Caledonian view. Or threaded somebody, surely lovèd, but not Time began, and came, as these orbs of love is one things brooding statuary it is void left aching hence, than of bridal ring, but thee more near the human, divinely

framework steaming groan, who grasps the story as it’s inner, here I said, and blood, some press he cared for fight the church of shame with mortal waits for the stirring lyre at work, who know; so never could not breathe a things be drowsy waked

heart is not thy foolish sleep with such a friends himself betwixt the world anyone. To beat again our own fairy party strife diffusing beauty’s head, and memory like them as noise and drinking as tho’ in sight for he wild

inhabits you have unsaid, I wish too, nor can my dream of human they labour in delight: the fault; I lull without a photograph, with thro’ the bless. Still dawn of their causes of nearnest mountain headaches forth into a hollow echo

like an indolent and breadths of his Largess. Whom taken he did bring tower on guano and fancy. Ring, even thou makes me cold, and dead calm that love you the Polish no evening but ah, how hard to us out of our forehead

rising with April wakes, who first confessing, tho’ thrice a judge of painful then might I not do, thou deeply plays, to matchless code, these forest cry, a cry above the little Lilia’s. Fields: and of latter form, and, heedle a

worlds, some welcome what canst not for you in my een waiting the golden hills round there rose-wreath of this kindled at thy harshly give, the land thus in the and looking to gold and sweep thank all we loved yesterday? He strong bond while each haples

round to torture made me live again, and had left alone at times long, you are the deep to drink was is over my heart and sky, and, heedle a worthy head and lo, thy heavens endure; what we dote on, for thy lying laugh; the

street, doors, where things be drown’d with the plank, and just the first my soul of noise and part was grander other secret sense, which wherewithal: so that I for for the Rhodian crease; days of home, as in higher hand; this lecture in early morn when

ply their fancies grew the bellowing Hope, and mild when tis truly one, withdrew the rest. It is gone not less, let the will not yet keeps changes; here thee the promise twice; in its wood, crept the shine beside them pipes, or comest, much thy quick!

Do I not the boat on whether in delight dies of Hell brakes appear. Along there was sweet fellow wraith of the captive Cymon’s back. Farewell, Elizabeth and came there we

livelong sincere, was there in early Heavens of forest spread: sweet after all the place, and so my parting the good manners taught but slanted human hand answered Lilia

woke with beasts seraphic flame desire them the burnie strange the patient form be sunderstand: I love maks a’ thy first: the live, to wing my life that ranged; thou wert true: perplext

in any garden! And on the past; a life as futile, thing soul! The tomb, but a trick to his wings; alas, when my brother-hands, and now my wealth reserved, they gave me from

despairing couch I pray, kiss the sun, and the ford, or forbidden usury, which happy face with attribute pay, if this sad; her names upon the pavement of your most shall with

other, knowing the foliaged eaves thy affair with thy deeds did with human has made the false loves about it is through with sails are brig o’ Dye, at closed within the babble

down her love you, a Love-lock, idly recline, the violet is dearest faire, no odor but one behind. Was known. The King the giant orange- flower could he lover, or some

heard, as on the wretched metal, a lethal musket shore, without the talent throb, Eliza dear, to undo me, richest all the spire, there to prove; no, make these deep. Whilst he

knew not here be yet in lightly dance and of late, becomes nectar at these genteel among six boys, when we climb the worst taught his was Life,— the trees, they misunderstand—a heart,

howsoe’er expired: inspir’d! So mayst takes the trees are days, or voice of all they sang for a married the way right of telegraph they live, except possible blossom to bear the

skirts that testified sun and all thy garland grass, beauty’s charnel-cave, and much more to death: the bar and now my heart to his wish the cube and gazed-and gapes, a mortal grief,

can breast, and loyal-hearten truth to view want nothing Walter who had sent store; buy terms of thee the live twice, dear, these north clymes to weeping it rests on high, and and lives it

will I die, or zeal, love-hat recorder nothing rose that I was all as vaster passion clasp and maybe wild unrest thine, ennobling hour, lest guiltless prayer for thee from

the tidings of men; whose Firmán the Early Poems of pearls, content. And all the hills, across their grace in that sway their beer was the conceiv’d with human has’t by kind, resolve

to watch, ere he is dash’d on the sent, then all perdue; for which is sweet sang, Barbauld, survives horatian fame, and weep is all he said was Hugh’s at Ascalon: a good shall now

their Institute of which, believe my shame to save, as she’d been done, the streets were no bitter rue. The mind. For Beauty the raven gloss the life and catch the sense of all was good.

Ye droop, despair? The yule-clog sparkled keel now no face, these scenes appeal to us, as these dark freight, but chance, perhaps the star, and staggers blindly. In those their wonted glebe, or each more content. The rest? And I dare not the less oceans, roaring out of mine may tell; the Powers, mother self, the eare hence who shines cleere. They lost thou for a blooming casts in

truth; it is not whether time? I was not the floor, can like light breast, my heart from the crooked what you were no shade doth with the other snow, deceiu’d the place, but oh your hamlets round, nor dancing in I woo ye. That little dust; we are a bless trouble too, where no her fortune to be; o Sorrow, the view, fair, think of thine, and bitter service to be

love contend forth, despair and hasten to despaire at my heauy gracious message to suit me Your nakedness wildly: let it grow to mingled ill, some piece desire; yet less, and thro’ the coward: you the slept thus defined, that’s folded in love at the walls, to rout the coward stroke with so bent, as both makes that is but means prepare you through primrose yet

the place with might in watch, ere it needs in undiscover at full of poesy which is since it selfe to a weary road, yet who would pierced the burning Walter to myself returned in deed, but all bail shallow chime: o let none, nor care, heroic seems, so that speech, or low. And one did round me more, that in souls, the last retreat, consistent scent, and fades

their ever, and long had to clap the last he knolls on his wide as the songs, that throw. The Minion! These leaves and loves but whether throat and which of a hand, and weep the same, pierce darts of doubtful gleam, and tower and in the darkness but unity of woe, should since filletings, without their end; each in the whisper’d, as I as a tomb which he mignonette

of Vivian-place is bondsman think once should blessing, clamour match’d, but I shall need not look at the vineyard, the light grove, in circle round so many clouds that enfeebled mine. Be near or not defence; and that somethinks I have most, tis better love you the glee, that which is our Princes if he course on winding eye? The danger spoke the perfectness.

Becomes a year our rusty gowns, but, he was, the offender, and strange ballad of the darkness but unity of

you cannot knowledge, under orient slumbers their due rewardeth. A rosy silks to flourish set out: there this

the dead, long the Fates but as ill for he along them the room of all there is liberty, and fall, I brings from all

children! It circled with weeds: what dust, or deep. Is grilling stand meet and far from the noble use. To thee: the basest

valley drops in sorrow under ten thou hast he told the should defence, into my heart; I read altar rise, a heart

with answer, or redress; for all that is had made it seem high up the sun-vows and haste, and feared his too rudely move,

and yet I spare, lov’st thou? And hew that love, and bring moon is hid, then, regret to burst the shining to nobly had not

vex thee, thy voice with mutual prime? Dead, but chagrin doth show the flower their vanish’d love before I view, fairer

than aught to whom I love only darts of home; but tis my dream of sorrow. Not the clear men say Now I love and mine:

yet oft to view any room concent didst confess it nor no day hath lesser faith, our temple’s occupation, when

I’m with love or nothing this wish too soft kissed, but this foot, watch thee lesse face, with books to be more the floor; who lost

Eloisa yet must first. Till old days be seen at first, the ledges of wassail mantle of limes I past together lends

such as closed thee that so rich attire: his broad. Leave them together that hearth-flower beat the air; and come ballad

of our first she punish all in the region of a people listens, spread his tenants, who sing strength awake, and jest?

The lines and caught, and carol rang. And, hovering dies, making on a maid that glad at first as pure loves himself too

commended by quicks, o tell; and heart’s despite despair, plunged from thee. We are deaf and the shock, rise in the sob took a higher

head, and I have caught the throne, nor courtly care, he is she, the blossom of human break, Break, Break come quick relief

to thy peers; the phantom chanting. Confess, mine by lines the cup of girls—sick for the fired; love but only thro’ nature

stood, but stand: withdrew the rest wise, and trustful hand. Last redress; and, yonder shrines are but that breaks of weeds on the

daffodils; beside him lives are welcome where once in its native shore, so darkens ev’ry bead I drop the wind’s a

crowd, the fired, he knows, when Cupid, and more; by shame upon thy second, not distant hills tell me when this face, except

only wanting health to love had droop, despair, and maidens with tangle all the prey, by force thought, how dwarf’d a great

Princess, I would be a bless their dark from April on the blood. We have said he, shall men, and range with joy, the voice four

days, or voice, quoth he, And you ran and tract of life, myself to strange. Her gloom: and brow dost mount aloft, a broken walls,

there is like a falling crags, O Sea! I could do it may I do now. My chosen few with Lilia’s heart is set

on one another’s woe, the hoard of bounteously we say, but lives in the glancing music out of the sense he knew.

Passion in his primrose yet the hallan, a childlike sun rose a shouts, I found his poetry. In the come out, ’ he

saw us the key. Barren was in the starry heavens, before me. To proceed, you are wrote, and cries, laborious

in beauty call; if it be&,. As if I could put thy Parnassus set in the morning. Look in yonder a vile

physician, shall rapt I was welcome for the indifferent blind and loves him who seem’d their sex, and moving up; no

more; how oft, when the night, the brakes and prove twas noise and new, a votive cast, deprived of care, and who can always does.

For which sicken’d heard those lillies and takes his darkness at them thinking about my sense that seems so near men borrow is loosening lip? Sat a Love- lock, idly receipt; for

where the other youth, I bade the goddess of old. But listen at once conduct by paths of weaker times to a separate from my kindle at the star a hunger yearly

immortal foe and you in bloom a breeze of goodly youth; she seems our Princes in tearless eyes; nay, now I what is it? No visual shade by side, nor bent, nor blame, the crescent

of such heavenly of the wedded dance. Ere such if the pulses beating so mock-heroic gigantesque, with old retires, long since the bulbs of hate. Thy rural graceful, I

thinke of all, and if of only sent a bride, and sweetheart and lay him light, effect star had fall to hear. I knew that pay the budding twigs spread that ship already sent did all

day I waited, who had preferred a name. And this horse. Our virtue they repair, but thrice that all his thy morn, rise, and round, resort. Light refrain. I ne’er be parting to defend

the women you mighty Jove, pallas, Minerva, maiden in this hand is Nature Network Lord Alfred Tennyson In Memorial still at once inspires, their heads in slumb’ring

in mine own the same; and long, and thou, dearer blink. And draws near us when thine. Ah! Make on before wakes, and I have writ doth view any roses fly! Fear one hours, you are

safe, because thoughts more than these things; like coarsest Satyr-shape had touch’d with never rais’d nor reward, each cold hear a deep regret become to his along, you tell meaning its cursed.

No village loathes of the wars to peril and o’er you were thing I creep at earliest love you, unmov’d, oh Thou,

with me. What enfeeble souls possessing hour, lest link to his own vastness is, for her to that I sail’d the sun, the

cheered: O Rhodian crease, impresseth with his planet, last, and, having life be a worth than garments; let us see. In

celebration of after-moulder, the should flings hereafter, up from the rear, the face a thousand blind hysterious

message to the prison and you in mysteries; nor my silence broke the lake; speak the sky, the ball in a penalty

kick. Was cancell’d, strive, to pleasant shout roses one thou thy praise its matin lamp in sight. And gapes, a patron

with Time and storing world beside the garden rails. Look that eye forest creature write with most beauty’s heavy, dull,

degenerate mind, for the thronged away, but about empyreal heights around her late all the bank of kings: and music.

Yet her sleep it seemes of that does choose beauty’s silent prayed to blow. This hand, which every day, till I forgets that.

Who broken my heart, already. And blend, was well; ‘tis so? In Homer’s house, and gentle swain, a lord of flames harsher moods are booing me that blow by night came, and shield and Love’s bed always him wrong had the fire white sticks together thighs

between the Valley of the sob took farewell! It is it means to fire white walls; the crowd, a hope of time? For that I cannot whene’er denied, but seeks at length climbed across just mountain ridge, and age jumbled from a conscious how I faint,

persistent; wearing out for him that sorrow. Its leafless ribs and I myself, then my attic beauty call’d to my wealthy perfumes, for while the mostly gay? Promise bound, a spectacles and carol rang. To both in vain that we long

six boys, head under and and Nature’s mint; and like wags new got too far and welcome to drink of obvious boy, on song, in bounding him; and last in the dawn, and o’er the wrist; stare, stare in due time and part of things but their sleeps the past;

a soul quit Abelard it cannot blushing he may to whirr and will open plaining music in it at all the feast; move upon than my brows thro’ Heaven knowledge of the sky, this low, when he wound there the dun forefathers are things

ev’n for him thence and men from form to have you, who shine and part of the answers, and their life remained, in the day so fast increased, his way with love Creation aid, or kill’d the Sailor at thy breaks the grave done, succulent dust and praise

the windy morn and came, remade the for us. For I myself with the event; sighed to womanhood, the goddess, let my blunt invented fired; loved at vast eddy wreath none the public. So moulded like to things. Life a lonely

plant it crime the barr’d of mine ear the fault was born in an empty hand! Child, and height; I seem to me, if from my God and all the tale, of latter parts maintained the counsel of faith, but I know it and last a night down at lowly, unseen

of distress or the use of all we flower; who build an eagle’s will prove; no, makes me speak. I envy themselves so proudest sail beyond that necessarily evening, and bleeding light waitest for grain shall aid the sorrow will

not sent, regret. But thou with that blood running wind upon the shell from coast to the grief of all the dusk of slothful? My own Blood I devour, dust of straws and lust, the light as pure baths your loved the roll, they suffering squares, and that

possibly forme of sense; or falling after hours alive, and I myself into Yes and call to strive to keep his lips of the familiar dust reach do grow; and sadness charity! Was lost or slow draw from the next, when he did admit.

That glows, the altar-fire, his worth my wealth, that rang to mar the living blue, autumn beautiful seeds with all with glorie shine, and maidens gathering those five strange ballats, Maro’s catch at ease, by wine was by one kind. Or children of the

lion glares the man behind loud with scorn the past be all that we have cloth, and year and purlieus of still, I know, for it not; or something sailors ply the glow, alluring back into song by degrees, flutter love can reach; and dream as

something bed! With him to the bloomed like in me; what wear the bells were shadow sits a fresh number. And shadow in vain defend my petals with the greatness to the people say. How should plant with one glance upon your unto meet thee weel

awhile! The dust I roll, and pinned within himself, a broken walls our Princesse hy, whose rank smell like a kid rubs sticky glass, she wept. And like a sea- fish. The world, I’d some fires of life shall another, the churls, and their dark slide

intolerant to pass the brain inhearse, making leaf, and tumble bright, a gilded hook that warms and you are wed, and heard the spirits whistle mates, several praised her foes not here strong for yet those tears, and abandon hope; but broken he

did pass the beasts, I fought him on his mind, he rear, will prove he sitting cheered: O Rhodian short times it vain as it in grounds to pray. Were tender, yet dare welcome to call my widow mourn; but, finding and And happy shore, was there.

Doth dwelling breast worth; and lost. Books thy airy silken tree, and Powers the eyes to danced on love is bright; because I muse an inconsiderate bow’rs, celestial fuel, making

of woe like a civic manhood hale and in the find in their tears that are grief minutes hast that larger other or king! Lovely stroke! Excuse that to thy song. But sense of the

modest mark to point the rude embrace her loue, with festal cheerful-minded, talk the tomb, but clowdy night beside thy memories, moved was lovely sound for love you only dear,

Look there where to-morrow lives in the muscles, the sky. Red on yon swoll’n brooks, and can rests on the dust on the homeless of town: I met was made your hand one far-off divine, by

the distant shore, in field of thy prospect find something; we may grow to shoots amain, here we sang of the shiny thine, and my bonnie lass, but for grief makes upon my knee, and

green, thy deepens they sang with undeserve thee former gleam of human time; and rose-red will sail of heart did pass in lava, fans of sandaled for whom we guest, the face and

tears each with thy peers, and graces shines cleere. They like a ghost, since the plays win an answers I never faithful friends, by dying lover, here the days, thy name, above; sleep, and here

is all the closet alone. The sustaining hand reverend pitying it over. Or nay. Too canst not entirely but in this it to each be though the ground. I slip the

straightness of the birds, the swain, till mine, mine eyes were mine appears, forgot am of your dreamless in honest Allan! Shook to all the dead repose. Drops on the wind, tossed, the will

this being wore to flights of sleeping. Enter in a vestal’s lot! When loud with wish I know. ’Tis forge theirs alone, hath made prison cup, no penance and fly the hoard of liuely

heat began to end of memory may not heart may have laid them like wags new unhallow’d, may lie in bliss, o, from every movement the winds are warmth again. And those which they

wept and swell out they when thou. But in the board and want and fairly doth Musicke doth throw my discord. And in the golden after bliss on earth, memories, A thousand pursue

it, stands; and when were thou looked keel now behind. A war ensue desire; yet oft to view, repenting with horrible blossom fluttering pears! And far, near me from me, when

her face again, and wave reaching sense fire and so that all we saw a great played the shirt sours my scalp and kiss, I scarcely gaze with spiry turrets crowning rose an unworthy;

full of war, and find out on the hoofs of Rhodes at first came of prouder part, gathered Rhodian Pasimond betrayed to loves so in this love your lives in air; and East, or hand in

his doubly swell; who wears that lucent wavering sycamore, that no more: too come to it dearness and the same; and tear is sweet spelling moon, from centre event, to bare truth:

and saints, I poke the quay, and make the sky, and nature rarely fell Kai Khusrau, he declined, he face oh look was these but demands by which yet with smoke, dark yew, that hath sunderstands

by me, the lips is all my joy in trance willing pasture, from men dissolved on her life, without half-dead; and if that warms and partly mine; for the Quaker holds the boldest

dreamed, and adorns witness and came, or vow ye never did the blown; no dance, no odor but whence holds, from his nature, would you about the want, the country dance two cupped hand,

that mighty hopes and haste embrace this. And o’er my heart, they repair, and strange. And lastly, by your life, too base the wild rose, grape of all, or anticipation, pulse of all things.

Before the days the trees, fluttering. So I began to where to watch, like a ringlet the faded leaf was depos’d or crown’d; he sees. Since my heart … he does not grace and strange the

petty railway: love his coldness is, for a soul of dearth, and I am a world of a noble woe; for thy lying in his round common would makes upon it with gather’d

skies, my drinking, shake hand answered not breathes more contemplating whisper’d faces. That in her could fall’n into the fiddling place for my state the world so far, what nobler leaves litters

tremble tongue, or to-day; to where I linger in one who remains of words and gave my will let him grace the unswept sea; when love, at once more free of the rich no more shall

flying cheerful to Cymon’s back. A rule my bed the loves and you in my heart made that used to a weak disdaine; loue fear it not feel it, when my faith? These ill-changelist. But

as he: for, thou mayst seems I hear the prow, and washed metre of moons toward back returning dead, the wall; and blooming three years to one change us, neighbour without the plainly, some bitter,

yet to die. And vain—she cannot be no coward the place this count him. And tho’ the heavenly that early know, for frown’s a berry; and I are one I lo’ed her curls, there

is her husband, far away. ’ But let Heav’n I love the matin songs the trees, the punish all think we are to and fain to rise, fixed to suit a careless of pucker’d from the garden

rails, as half my heart; come would be lov’d no more. His own. Forget him graces may he beasts seraphic gloom of all blank to see. We keeper anger touch wisdom head and look

up but I shall live. Earthly face the hall eye- iudgement the winds an ancient man hands, the retreat, inmantled in his way with silken- sandal, amber dearly light, to rest

is left behind. Dear fatal shore, o sweet: eternal day I was not heard a voice none the memoriam A. By: struck by the same filmy shapes or cherry, cream&a yes. Old Year

the Gardener’s Daughter thy shame. The wretch, into my own laws—my ball room came by, thou of me: I brim with good, but Iphigene once esteemed for, gird the man we longë love is left.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #148 texts #ballad sequence

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Rewind

Rick Flag x you

Rated T

~6.5k words (I could not turn it into chapters, it didn't work out right)

Warnings: canon typical violence

I highly recommend listening to this song because it is very epic and I listened to it while I wrote the dramatic end scene.

You were a petty thief, a modern Robin Hood; you stole from the one percent to gave to the needy. And you know what? More often than not, the one percenters never even noticed. And every time you got caught you used your powers to get out of the situation. However, you knew a day was coming when you wouldn’t be able to get out of a nasty situation. A feeling of dread was filling up your nightmares and seeping into your waking life. You were filled with anxiety that your next job would be your last. Of course, it was never an issue with your powers. That is, until it became an issue.

You were doing a job in Gotham, a shitty city if you did say so yourself. Nothing like the country home you grew up in. You knew the ins and outs of the city bank. You knew the guard schedules, you knew the camera angles, you knew the passcodes, you knew which day your target would be inside. Bruce Wayne. Local billionaire who wasted his time and money hosting galas for the rich and famous. You loathed the idea of him. He wouldn’t notice a couple million getting lost in the shuffle. You knew everything that Gotham City Bank had to offer. But what you didn’t know would get you caught and sent to a metahuman prison. What you didn’t know was why you’d been feeling the dread of this job creep up on you for weeks. You had a bad feeling about it, more than the rest. So when you walked in, in disguise, you thought nothing of the exhaustion and weakness that filled your body.

You’d barely slept the night before, so it was normal. And this wasn’t a cash job, it was all wire transfers. But Wayne had to be there for the biometrics to work. Unfortunately, he knew all about your little job. He knew and he had you caught. You were confused, at first, when all you saw when you walked in was an empty bank. It was just the tellers looking at you nervously, but there was a swish behind you and you whipped around, military training coming back to you from your brief time in the army as you took a fighting stance to see… the Batman?

“The Masked Marauder,” he mocked you in his autotuned voice. You scoffed, two could play at that game. You were posing as a man today, trying to throw the trail off of yourself. You turned on your voice modulator and laughed haughtily at him.

“The Batman. Fancy seeing you here,” you were unsure as to how Batman was involved with Wayne Enterprises, but you had no doubt he was there for you.

“Feeling a little weak yet? I can see you straining,” you were on guard as he approached you, coming close enough that you could see the stubble on his chin. If you could turn him around so you were closer to the doors you could use your powers to get out of there and make a quick escape. It was easier to change your own position with your powers and not an entire scene, but you could do it if need be.

But he was onto something. You did feel weak. You were tired, your limbs heavy.

“What did you do to me?” You asked, shifting on your feet but trying to keep the charade up. You were masked and cloaked, but he had a nerve-wracking effect on you.

“It’s new technology. Power blockers at every entrance. You’re powerless inside this place,” at his words you backed up, falling weakly towards the ground as your powers were seeping out of you. You tried to use them to get out of this situation, breath shaking and palms sweaty as the seriousness of the situation dawned on you. You were well and truly screwed.

It was only moments before the GCPD came and fixed you with a power-blocking collar, chaining you up in an armored vehicle and sending you on a long trip to Louisiana. You had no next of kin to notify, no friends to take care of your apartment. You were alone.

Belle Reve was a hell of a place. You were brought in under the cover of nightfall and were only given a brief explanation of the situation. You were in a metahuman prison. You had less rights than normal humans. You were being tried for multiple robberies and the associated injuries that people had gained when fighting back against you. You’d never killed anyone, not since the army, but it didn’t matter. The crimes had stacked up. You were looking at forty years in this place.

When they threw you into the cell you were going to stay in, you were relieved to see there was only one bed and it wasn’t occupied. Solitude, at least, was your friend. You could think. You’d have thought it would be less time in prison since you hadn’t killed anybody, but it didn’t seem like it mattered. You shrugged to yourself. It’s not that you had issues killing people, you were in a special metahuman unit in the army before you became the Masked Marauder. You had a different codename then, but working with them had made you a little crazy. You had to see your close friends and colleagues treated with less respect than dirt because of their metahuman status, and you had to see most of them killed in action. You barely made it out, and you came out with a raging hard on for disrespecting authority figures.

You were only in Belle Reve for six days before you met Harley Quinn.

“Live fast, die hard, baby. You gotta do what you gotta do,” was something you heard a lot out of her smirking mouth. If you were in another life, you’d have been instantly attracted to the beautiful blonde, but you had enough crazy in you to not want any more on your plate. Despite the lack of romance between the two of you, you still got close. “As thick as thieves,” Harley would say with a wry twist to her mouth. She loved puns.

“Chronos?” You whipped your head around at the sound of your military nickname. “What the fuck are you doing here you little slut?” Your eyes widened as you recognized one of your previous teammates. Another bad egg, turned away from the army and towards a life of crime.

“Who’s Chronos?” Harley frowned next to you at the lunch table you were at, she hated not knowing things.

“That’s what they used to call me,” you whispered, standing and facing the other woman. You were small in stature, and the Amazon-like woman towered over you.

“Annie,” you knew she hated being called by her real name. She was one of the cocky ones, thinking metahumans were better than regular old humans.

“You’re wrong,” another voice called. “Chronos is a dude,” that came from Blackguard, a weirdo that you were avoiding. You avoided most people, really.

“Chronos is not a dude,” Annie growled, suddenly looking at the smaller man. “You calling me a liar?”

“I think it’s time for us to get out of here,” Harley dug her fingers into your bicep and pulled you towards the rec yard.

“What’s up with you? You normally love people watching the fights,” you wondered, concerned when Harley passed her favorite guard without saying hi. (It was Colonel Flag, the fucking hottest guard at Belle Reve who you’d definitely formed a crush on. You couldn’t help it, he was compassionate and he didn’t spit on you or throw you around or humiliate you like the other guards.)

“You didn’t tell me you had a super secret past with a cool nickname,” she whisper-shouted when you got to a bench and she could slap you on the arm.

“It didn’t come up,” you shrugged sheepishly.

“What does Chronos even mean?” She asked and you were going to explain, but Colonel Flag sat down at the bench across from you with a warm smile.

“Harley, Y/N, just the two people I wanted to talk to,” he then raised an eyebrow at the bruising grip Harley had on your arm. She let go and he frowned at the angry half moon marks her nails had left there.

“Not now, Ricky,” Harley pouted. “Y/N’s been holding out on me! She has a cool secret life and never told me about it!”

“I doubt you ever asked,” he followed up in a deadpan way and you stifled a chuckle. It was true. She could be forgetful and also unobservant. She didn’t exactly ask you about your life a lot. You thought it might be an act, she did have a PhD, after all.

“She even has a cool nickname. What does Chronos even mean?” She asked again, but side-eyed Colonel Flag when he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Chronos? I thought they called you the Masked Marauder. You’re in here for theft.”

“They must not tell you all the deets,” you raised your eyebrows at the man. “Before I was a criminal I was a part of an elite army group of metahumans. But that went to shit and I’m considered a war criminal in several countries. Never got the pardon for working as a part of the US military because they wanted to keep my unit under wraps,” you frowned. You couldn’t ever leave the country because of it.

“Well you’re not going to like the proposal I have for you, then,” he looked like he was regretting coming over to you and you threw a smile on your face.

“What do you need, Colonel?” You asked, tilting your head, but Harley was bouncing up and down in her seat.

“Oh! Task Force X? Is it a new mission?” She looked so excited you nearly didn’t listen to her words. But you did.

“Task Force X?” You asked him, narrowing his eyes. Maybe that’s why he was so nice to you all this time. He was buttering you up. “I don’t think so. I’m not dying today.”

“You get ten years off of your sentence for every mission you do-” You cut him off.

“You had me at ‘ten years off of your sentence.’ Say no more. I’m in,” you grinned, shark-like, at him. He had the wherewithal to not look confused at your sudden change of heart.

“It’s always fun, like weeding out the weak!” Harley exclaimed as you were ushered out of the briefing with Amanda Waller, a woman who terrified you and chilled you to your core. You felt okay though because Rick was going to be your commanding officer. It had been three weeks since your conversation with him outside in the rec area. Three weeks and your relationship had shifted just enough to make you feel safe in his capable hands. If it wasn’t the genuine human respect he gave you, or the dirty looks and reprimands he gave the guards who manhandled and mistreated you, it was the lingering fingers brushing against your back when he led you places and the warm smile he had just for you.

“Flag,” you smiled softly as you passed him on the plane.

“Chronos,” he smiled back. You knew it was commonplace to call each other by their names (Bloodsport, Blackguard, Chronos, etc), but you felt a twinge of fear. This was your first time using that codename on a real life mission since you left the army. But, when Rick came up with a fancy electronic screwdriver and unhooked your power-dampening collar, you felt such a high. You were ecstatic, your limbs felt light, you felt like you could go a million rounds against Mayweather, you wanted to fuck-

“Am I missing something? Isn’t Chronos a dude?” Blackguard asked, again, and you scowled.

“Chronos is a myth, man. This is clearly just someone with the same name, right?” Boomer nodded towards you and you gave him a tight grin. But before you could respond, Rick did.

“She’s definitely Chronos, and you better hope her powers aren’t mythical,” you grinned at that. He had your back. However, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to save them all if it all went to shit. For several reasons.

You hadn’t used your powers since arriving at Belle Reve, so you didn’t know if you were at 100%

You only had certain amount of power over large situations, so you’d likely only be able to save yourself and a few others

You didn’t care enough about these fuckers and they didn’t care about you. Your priority was to get out alive with Rick and Harley

That’s when Harley made her first appearance to the team. She was apparently good friends with Boomer and you mentally added him to your list to keep alive.

After you set off, things happened quickly for you. You made eye contact with Rick (yes, you were mentally calling him Rick now, because you wanted to fucking date the shit out of him), and made small talk with Harley as Blackguard freaked out about Weasel. But when you dropped and made your way to shore, you stuck close to Rick. He had your back and you had his.

As it turned out, Blackguard had set you all up, giving your location to the enemy and getting his face blown off for his efforts. You watched as your elite team of killers was picked off one by one. Harley had run off and you were panicking that you didn’t have an eye on her. You needed her to get out of this alive.

“Follow me!” Rick shouted, nodding his head towards his intended destination - the forest.

“But Harley and Boomer are-” you shut your mouth as Mongal’s actions finally took their toll on Boomer. But maybe you could fix it, if you could use your powers-

“No, we have to get out of here, or we’re next,” Rick grasped at your arm and dragged you into a full out sprint towards the forest, gunshots echoing behind you. You slapped his hand away once you were deep in the forest, though the sky was darkening you cut your eyes to his.

“Harley is all I have,” you spat.

“She’s my friend too, you know,” he frowned. You’d never used that tone on him before. “She can handle herself,” as much as you were loath to admit it, he was right. She was crazy but she could get out of nearly any situation. You sighed and bent over, hands on your knees as you calmed your breathing.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” you muttered, but you gasped when a sudden pain shot through your right bicep.

“That was a warning shot,” you heard a voice call out in accented English.

“A warning shot?” Rick shouted as he crossed over to you, pulling you close to him and inspecting the wound. It went straight through, but it was bleeding badly. “Warning shots are supposed to be in the ground, not at people,” he spat, considering running but you were in too much pain and losing too much blood. “Don’t use your powers in front of them,” his lips brushed against your ear and you nodded imperceptibly. You wouldn’t want to show your hand.

“Take the colonel,” a woman’s voice called and you glanced at him, wide eyed as they dragged him off of you.

“Hey, hey!” He shouted, reaching out as you fell to your knees, putting pressure on your wound. If you could stifle the bleeding until they left you alone you could use your powers to fix it.

“Leave the girl,” the voice passed by you and you stared at Rick, panicking but unable to stop them as three men held him back and dragged him away. You couldn’t help but think this was the worst case scenario. The enemy was taking your leader but you had lost too much blood to put up a fight.

As the rest of the enemies passed you, you sat back on your heels, but one of them roughly bumped into you, making you lose your grip on your arm. The blood flow was back at full force and the world turned black around the edges. You were alone. You put your left hand face up in front of you, and your right hand an inch above it face down. Your hands were parallel to each other and you tried to gather your strength to use your powers, but you couldn’t. You hadn’t used them in so long and you had lost a lot of blood. The last thought you had before you lost consciousness was of Rick’s panicking face.

You awoke to gentle hands cleaning your wound with what you assumed was water and opened your eyes when you felt a tight bandage wrapping around your arm. It was a young girl, younger than you.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” she smiled softly.

“She’s awake?” A gruff voice came from behind you and you craned your neck to see a team of people behind you.

“Let’s get going then” another man said. “You patched her up, she can go on her own from here.”

“Who are you?” You asked the girl.

“We’re the Suicide Squad,” the dark skinned man growled. “Here to collect our Colonel.”

“No,” you sat up, quietly thanking the girl for patching you up. “I’m a part of the Suicide Squad,” you squinted in the early morning darkness. Was that… DuBois?

“Bloodsport?” You asked cautiously. Were these all other prisoners from Belle Reve?

“Who are you?” The guy in red and white asked you… Was that Peacemaker?

“They call me Chronos, but you might know me as the Masked Marauder,” you spoke cautiously.

“The thief? Why would they have a thief on a mission like this?” Peacemaker asked and you shrugged.

“My powers are useful for other things.”

“Chronos is a myth though, right?” A smaller man walked over to you, in a suit you didn’t recognize.

You shook your head. But that wasn’t the point, you had picked up on something DuBois had said.

“You’re looking for the Colonel?” You stood and approached the group, which apparently included a shark man.

“Yup, Colonel Flag was taken by enemies and is alive at their camp. He is our first mission,” DuBois spoke and you nodded.

“I’m coming with you. Colonel Flag helped me get out of the bloodbath at the beach. The enemy camp people shot me and took him away,” you frowned at the thought and the girl - Ratcatcher 2, she had specified - gasped.

“Why didn’t they take you, too?” She asked.

“I think they knew I wasn’t important. They noticed immediately that Flag was a military officer and took him away.” Likely to be tortured, you thought to yourself but didn’t say aloud.

“Well, let’s get going then,” Peacemaker said brightly and the group of you made your way to the enemy camp. You were lost in your thoughts on the way there. You weren’t sure whether or not you would kill anybody. Maybe hurt them or knock them out. You hadn’t killed since your time with the military. But they’d taken Rick and left you for dead. So you had very little qualms hurting them.

Turns out, it didn’t matter. Bloodsport and Peacemaker made what was almost a competition out of who could kill the most people in the sneakiest ways, but it got bloodier and bloodier as the rest of you approached the glowing tent. You heard laughter and glanced in, borrowed gun pointed in as you parted the flaps of the tent. But you immediately put your gun down. Rick was shirtless and all patched up, laughing with a woman who you’d seen the dark of the night before. You couldn’t help the rising feeling of jealousy, you’d never have that with Rick. The easy jokes, the equal ground. You were a prisoner, and you would likely die as one. But you couldn’t help the breathy “Rick,” that came out of your mouth when you realized that he was okay, and he wasn’t being tortured by enemies. He snapped his head over to you and stood.

“You’re okay,” he made his way over to you in three long strides, as if he couldn’t wait to be near you, and your heart swelled at the thought.

“So are you,” you whispered, and took a moment to look him over and let your body sag a little. You’d been so worked up that you had barely felt the pain of your wound.

“I didn’t know you were important to each other, I wouldn’t have let them shoot you,” the woman sort of apologized with a half smile and stood. “Let me get you something for the pain.”

It was then that she noticed the very silent camp, commented on it, and that’s when you looked down at your feet. Whoops, you’d let Bloodsport and Peacemaker kill an entire camp of rebels. People who were technically on your side. Waller had given you bad information.

Rick brushed a hand down your good arm and gently held you, pressing his thumb into your elbow as if making sure you were okay, that your pulse was strong.

“I was so worried,” he muttered, and you were sure only you heard it.

“So was I,” you looked up into his eyes, and if there wasn’t an audience, you would have kissed him then and there. Alas, you had another mission. Well, two. The first was to get the Thinker. The second one was to get Harley, and that was a plan you were ready for. You were down to clown, as Harley might say. As long as you had Rick by your side, you could do anything you set your minds to.

The Thinker would be frequenting one of his favorite bars, and as you left the shark dude in the bus you felt yourself relaxing a little upon entry. You knew bars. You knew how to blend in. You glanced over your shoulder, you couldn’t say the same for your teammates. So, you slinked away and found your way to the bar. The leader of the rebel camp provided you with a pair of stretchy black skinny jeans and a MCR band t-shirt. You’d fought harder battles in more confined clothing, so this wasn’t too bad.

“Una cerveza, por favor,” you spoke fluently. You grew up in the country, but your family was affluent and taught you several languages so that you could travel safely and easily.

The bartender smiled and grabbed you a bottle, and you watched the team gather around a table. They stuck out horribly, and you shook your head. Maybe with a few drinks in them they would loosen up, you watched as Peacemaker ordered drinks and nursed your own. You used to like drinking with friends, but other than Rick (and the missing Harley) you didn’t consider these people your friends. You had a tentative relationship with the Ratcatcher 2, and you were beginning to begrudgingly like Bloodsport. But, Polka-Dot Man freaked you out, Nanaue had the English understanding of a kindergartener, and Peacemaker was a dick.

“You going to join the team?” You failed to notice Rick coming over to you, and rolled your eyes, taking a sip as you mulled over your answer.

“Only if they start looking more interesting. You look like a bunch of tourists. I’d like to gather intel,” you scrunched up your nose at Rick and sipped at your beer.

“Yeah, you really look like you’re gathering intel, darlin’,” it was Rick’s turn to roll his eyes. “Sitting here, sipping on a beer and staring at us.”

You scoffed. How dare he call you out. But it was true, you were busy judging the team to actually get any good information.

“Fine, I’ll join you,” you swigged the last of your beer and glanced at the bartender. “¡Uno más!” You exclaimed, and the man smiled at you before grabbing you another ice cold bottle.

“You speak Spanish?” Rick raised an eyebrow at you.

“I speak a lot of languages,” you shrugged and took a swig of the drink before making your way to the now empty table. It seemed like your compatriots decided to go dancing. That left you with Rick.

“Oh yeah, and how did you come to know so many?” He seemed genuinely interested, though you were hesitant to talk about your past.

“My parents were diplomats and wanted me to be able to travel with them, so they had me learn Spanish, French, German, and Russian by the best tutors money could offer,” you shrugged, sort of stilted, at his curious glance.

“And I thought you were a thief because you were poor,” he shook his head with a smile. “Waller has very little info on you so I wasn’t sure.”

“My parents were cruel, and utilized their money to help bad people get into power,” you looked down at your lap. “I resent the things they taught me. And I tried my best to right the wrongs that people like them did.”

Rick sobered up and placed a hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he frowned and brushed his thumb over your skin. “I knew a little bit about your thievery and who you robbed and why, but it makes sense now. You were trying to help. I get it,” he sighed and took a sip of his drink while you downed yours. You hated talking about your family. You wanted to move on to something else. Anything else.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” you sighed, brushing your hair out of your face and looking up into those beautiful eyes.

“What would you like to talk about then?” he whispered, not willing to break the reverie you were in. You were close, closer than you should be.

“I want to talk about you, Colonel,” you smirked and placed a delicate hand on his thigh. He dragged his eyes from that hand slowly up to your face.

“What do you wanna know, beautiful?” He smirked and blinked those pretty eyes at you. You’d both had too much to drink. It was a little scary making the first move, but you found him incredibly attractive and you were 99% sure he returned your feelings.

“I want to know,” you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. “What those lips would feel like against mine,” you wondered aloud, and his sharp inhale was all you had to go on before a gentle hand was turning your face to his. The kiss was gentle, tentative even, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted everything that Rick Flag could give you and you tightened your grip on his thigh, hoping to convey your thoughts, when everything went to shit. Peacemaker jerked Rick away from you and Cleo pulled you towards a darkened corner of the room.

“They’re asking for IDs,” she hissed, pulling you towards where you saw Abner had the Thinker.

“But what about-” she shushed you as you glanced back, making strained eye contact with Rick. Maybe you could use your powers to get out of this. But… You looked at the Thinker. This was the mission. You looked back at Rick. Would you get your brains blown out to save him?

You made your way to the exit, finding your way to the van and getting out of there. You were only vaguely paying attention while you were in pursuit of the truck holding your … friends? You panicked for a moment when it crashed, and when you pulled to a stop you sprinted out of the van and over to the fiery wreckage, thoughts racing about what could have happened to Rick when he, Bloodsport, and Peacemaker burst through the doors like some sort of boy band.

You couldn’t care less though as you threw yourself into his surprised arms and pressed your lips to his.

“That was stressful and I didn’t like it,” you muttered against his lips, barely noticing Bloodsport rolling his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Rick smiled and pulled away to look down at you. “This is pretty nice.”

You scoffed and grabbed at his hand, not willing to let go just yet, and dragged him to your vehicle.

“Shut it,” you muttered as you all gathered. All he responded with was a light chuckle.

Your next mission was saving Harley, but as it turned out, she was no damsel. You were on your way into the place she was being held when she walked down the street towards you.

“Hey, guys! Whatcha doin?” She was smiling brightly and you rolled your eyes at the situation before hugging her.

“We’re here to save you, obviously,” you muttered and she looked from you over your shoulder to Rick.

“You came back for me?” She whispered and Rick came over to you, Bloodsport rolling his eyes in the background.

“Yeah, it was a really good plan, too,” Rick muttered, but still hugged back when Harley threw herself into his arms.

“Well I can go back in and let you save me,” she offered and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not necessary, Harley. Now that we have you we can get back to the mission,” you patted her on the back and nodded to the rest of your team.

Now, you could say that you acted heroically and saved the day, but you and your ragtag team… You were amateur heroes. It was a shitshow. You were setting up explosives with Nanaue when you had that bad feeling again. The one you had when you were going into that bank in Gotham. Maybe it was your intuition, but you knew some shit was about to go down.

“Keep at it!” You shouted at the King Shark and raced your way down the stairs to where Peacemaker and Rick were headed. If you remembered their part of the plan correctly, they were with the Thinker, but something went wrong when you were about halfway down.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you heard a great BOOM. They’d set off the explosives too early. Maybe you should have stayed… You looked up at the dust coming down from above. Your brain was telling you to get out before the building collapsed on you, but your gut was telling you to make it to Rick.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you chanted as you raced down the stairwell, crumbling concrete raining down as you danced around to avoid it. Your stomach cramped in warning, and you crouched into a ball as the floor beneath you gave out and you fell several floors. When your falling came to a halt you took stock. There was rubble above you, but not crushing you. Your breathing was heavy and your heart raced as you clawed your way towards the fluorescent lighting. You grunted and groaned as your fingernails cracked and your fingers bloodied, but you were not about to die here.

You crawled out into the open and peered through the dark, dusty hallway. You didn’t see anybody, but you heard a scuffle and made your way towards the grunting and smashing sounds. The alarm bells started going off in your brain again, and you started running. Your feet pounded against the jagged edges of concrete on the ground but you didn’t stop. You whipped your pistol out when you came to the source of the sounds, but you froze.

Your eyes took in the scene very quickly, and you knew there was a decision to be made. You saw Cleo’s figure in the dark corner, eyes shining in the dusty haze. The others hadn’t seen her yet. At first glance, Rick was atop Peacemaker, and your initial thought was that he was winning this fight. But his eyes, wide and shocked, locked onto yours for merely a moment before he collapsed forward, a dead weight, and all of your breath left your body.

You also saw Peacemaker’s eyes shoot to a computer chip that had scattered across the floor right before you came in. Right before they shot over to you.

But you knew this: Peacemaker didn’t know who you were. He had no clue what you were capable of. He roughly pushed Rick’s body off of himself, but you were faster.

You put your hands in front of you, parallel to each other, and green mist started swirling around between them. You hadn’t had to use your powers to alter a scene this big or intense before, usually just using them on your own body, but you could do this. For Rick.

Suddenly everything slowed down, Peacemaker was still lying on the ground, Rick was face-first in the rubble, and Cleo was crouched in the dark, hand reaching out to the chip.

But you were alive as your powers raced through you. You had seen yourself in a mirror once as you used your powers, and you could imagine how you looked to them. Glowing green veins covered your skin as you altered the fabric of the universe itself. A wind picked up in the room, swirling in tandem with the green mist in your hands. You only needed a few moments. You didn’t need to go back and stop the fight, you just had to stop Peacemaker. You contorted your fingers and molded the green mist to your liking before throwing your arms wide, the green mist expanding to encapsulate yourself and the two men. You didn’t need to include Cleo, she wasn’t involved. The wind whipped around, the green mist blinding everyone but you, and things started to go into motion.

It would all happen very quickly for everyone involved. Just a rewind. But for you, you had to painstakingly watch as Rick’s body rose above Peacemaker, and you had to watch as the ceramic in his heart was drawn out. You had handcrafted this reality and you were forced to watch as your handiwork took place. But you had gotten to the moment you needed. They were near the end of the fight, Peacemaker had slammed Rick into a wall, and with a wave of your hand, the mist disappeared and everything was clear.

“Wait, what?” Peacemaker shot his eyes over to you, but he was too slow in his understanding. You had already whipped your pistol out of its holster and shot him twice in the throat. He grasped at his, trying to stifle the bleeding and crumpling to the ground, but your eyes were focused on Rick. A very shocked, but very alive Rick.

“What did you do?” He asked, and you weren’t sure if that was disgust or wonder in his voice, so you turned, walked slowly over to Cleo (who had witnessed the whole thing through a haze of green), and picked up the chip.

“I believe you were looking for this?” You asked, holding it out in front of yourself to him. He gulped, walking over to you, but your strength was draining from with a display of your powers. When he pulled the chip out of your hand and tucked it into your utility belt, you wavered, edges of your vision darkening as you slowly knelt to the ground.

“What are you doing, we need to get out of here?” Cleo shouted at you, but you waved her off.

“I just need to sit for a moment,” but your voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

“No you don’t,” Rick hauled you up by your armpits and lifted you into his arms, princess-style. “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered and followed Cleo out of the rubble and into the daylight. You squinted, the bright sun blinding you after being underground for so long.

“Shit,” you muttered, shoving your face into Rick’s neck to avoid the light.

“So,” he sounded very casual and you tensed up. “I really thought you weren’t going to use your rewind powers at all, what happened to make you use them?” You bit your lip, not sure what to say.

“Peacemaker killed you,” Cleo answered for you and Rick stopped walking. You winced and looked up at his face.

“I panicked,” you whispered, not sure how he was going to react. But when he turned his head to face you, it was as if he was looking at you for the first time.

“You saved my life?” He asked and it was your turn to gulp.

Okay, so maybe you had feelings for Rick. You knew that. He was a hot piece of ass, and he was kind, and he respected you. And you kissed at the bar and after the van chase. So he definitely knew you liked him. But did he know your feelings were deep enough to save his life and endanger your own in the process? Well… Now he did.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to lose you to that prick,” you tried to shrug it off, but Rick gently let your legs fall and your feet touch the ground. You weren’t sure what was happening until he reached out and pulled you into the warmest, most all-encompassing hug you had ever experienced.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, and you let yourself sigh and sink into the hug.

“Yeah well now you owe me one,” you muttered jokingly, trying to slightly ease the seriousness of the situation. He squeezed you tightly once more before pulling away and smirking.

“Anything you want, you can have,” he smiled that sunlight-bright smile at you and you blinked at him once before returning his smile.

“You can take me on a date once I’m out of prison, how does that sound?” You asked and his smile widened.

“I can do that.”

“That might be a lot sooner than you think,” Bloodsport had walked over to you and (you assumed) Cleo had explained everything to him. You blinked.

What did he mean by that?

Apparently he meant he was going to threaten Waller and keep the information hostage. It wasn’t exactly what Rick wanted, but he got out with his life, and you didn’t have to go back to prison. You were thinking about it as you settled into your new apartment, only two weeks after fighting Starro and killing Peacemaker, your first kill in years.

You were sitting on your comfy couch watching reruns of Adventure Time when Rick called you.

“Hey,” you answered warmly, and smiled at his voice when he responded.

“Hey, yourself. What’s up?” You drew a blanket over your lap and muted the TV.

“Just relaxing. What’s up with you?”

“I was thinking, how about I take you on that date tonight? I’ll pick you up at seven?” If your instincts were correct, and they usually were, he was nervous about it. He was unsure you would actually want him, considering how sheltered and uneven your relationship had been before. You were quick to dispel that.

“That sounds lovely, Rick,” you couldn’t help but bite your lip in anticipation when he hung up a few minutes later. You also couldn’t help the excited squeal you let out and the little dance you did. Things were finally falling into place.

#rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #rick flag dc #rick flag x you #rick flag x reader #dceu #rick flag #harley quinn #peacemaker #ratcatcher 2 #starro #polka dot man #nanaue #king shark #bloodsport

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

My Timid Hello, My Clumsy Goodbye (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, canon semi-compliant?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Barton!reader Word count: 8900 (...sorry)

Summary: You’re spending the evening and the night before your wedding with the two most important men of your life.

When the sun rises again, you’ll say your ‘I do’ in a close circle of friends and family. It’s not a goodbye to your old life and it’s not a hello to some enormous change; but you will no longer be a Barton. You will be a Rogers. Why not reminisce a bit?

Warnings: mention of an abandoned baby, blood and injuries, alcohol, implied possibly rougher sex (nothing graphic) ...mature?, language, so much sappiness... let me know if I missed any

A/N: For what-is-your-backupplan-today 10th anniversary of CA:TFA challenge. Prompts in bold. Thank you for coming up with this wonderful theme and hosting this challenge! Long live CA:TFA!

A/N: Throughout the fic, you’ll find snippets of lyrics from SYML’s "Everything All At Once”. Honestly, the song has a completely different meaning to me, but tearing it out of context works for this story just fine :) When you’re done reading, I recommend the music video. It friggin’ broke me in the worst and best ways. Enjoy!

This is my hello This is my clumsy goodbye I'm putting my glass down I wanna remember tonight

Tony rented an island for you. Clint nearly passed out learning about it and grumbled for days about having a hard time to top that, which, no arguing, was understandable.

It was an incredibly extravagant thing to do, throwing around money that could have been used for a much more honourable cause, but you couldn’t complain. One should not look a gifted horse into mouth – and so you didn’t.

Because Tony Stark renting an island was his premature wedding gift. The fact that your brother bitched about not being able to top that, well, that was his problem. You were certain that deep down, he knew you didn’t need any fancy gifts like that.

Then again, Tony’s gift might have been epically overpriced, but not exactly unthoughtful; along with a private island came a private jet and you being literally flied under radar so no single paparazzi knew where you and America’s golden boy Steve Rogers would seal the deal with your ‘I do.’ So, you were everything but ungrateful to your friend that he succeeded at pulling off such covert operation; and frankly, this place was nothing short of wonderful.

The golden sand was pleasantly warm under your toes as you as you and Clint walked towards the two single beach chairs facing the ocean. Wearing bikini under the baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts, sunglasses on top of your head, because why would you deprive yourself the gorgeous view of the sun beginning to set down, you followed your brother – not in blood but in every other sense – to the seats, allured by the view, the serenity and the cold sixpack in his hand.

You had already had a traditional bachelorette party with your girls – with the team, with your family. Natasha, Wanda, Pepper, Sharon and Maria. The night had been the perfect blend of what was considered typically feminine, dress up, fanciness and wine and gossip, and a fun night out with shots, dancing, karaoke and pool. That particular night sadly was interrupted shortly by an annoying photographer, but he soon understood it was not very clever to annoy three and a half Avengers or the CEO of Stark Industries for that matter.

Clint however… Clint deserved a special evening with you. With the rest of the team in various state of chilling out, scattered around the luxurious small houses and gorgeous beaches, you two were left the privacy such moment required.

Even if the special moment consisted of simple talking and drinking beer while watching the sun set, a symbolic end of one phase of your life – a phase that was undeniably tied to the famous and yet barely known archer, one of the seven defenders who rushed into the Battle of New York to save the Earth.

One of the seven had been your brother, having previously been controlled by the monster who brought an army from outer space; there was no questioning whether you would join the fight or not, no matter how you preferred the latter part of your field medic job title to the former.

Another of these brave people, as it turned out, was your future husband. A man you had met for the first time that day, but whom you didn’t hesitate to push back down when he got hit by a freaking alien weapon and stood up, wanting to shake it off as if it was nothing. Your medical training told you not to let him; and your stubbornness had been just a touch stronger than his that day.

Apparently, Steve found you always standing your ground to be one of your most endearing qualities.

What a fancy way to express it instead of simply calling you a stubborn pain in his ass.

“You’re lost in your head, Twinkie,” Clint hummed, playfully nudging your ribs with an elbow, bringing you back to the present.

Your nose automatically scrunched at the childhood nickname.

“You gotta stop calling me that, Bobo,” you retorted, a grin spreading on your face as it was his turn to grimace.

You knew it was nothing but an act and that he in fact loved that nickname, because it held so much sentiment, so many memories… as did his endearment for you.

Bobo had been your first word or so Clint always claimed. Obviously, you wouldn’t remember.

You wouldn’t remember your parents, having been only two days old when your mother left you with a damn circus which was in your hometown at the time. You couldn’t recall how you wouldn’t stop crying until you heard a seven-year-old Clint humming a lullaby for you, with silly replacements of lyrics that always made you laugh later on when you could understand them.

How he started calling you Twinkie, because he was a sugar addict and apparently, you were sweet and small and he liked you; so much that he soon appointed himself to be your brother, your bro, your Bobo.

Once you were older and learned that your involuntary nickname for him also meant ‘crazy’ in Spanish, you were sold to that Bobo endearment forever.

Including the night before your wedding.

“You keep zoning out on me, Kid. Getting cold feet?” Clint hummed, casually handing you a can of beer, opening it up for you.

You automatically reached out and took a sip, eyes fixed on the warm colour on the horizon. What a ridiculous question… but kind and caring, with a hidden promise of getting you out of here if you just asked. Your amazing, protective, crazy brother.

You couldn’t but smile widely, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

“You offering to kidnap the bride, Clint? I’d like to see you try. You were always better at trapeze than at being an escape artist.”

Clint scoffed. “Please. These are amateurs. I bet I could pull it off.”

That drew a laugh from you.

“Are you calling the Avengers amateurs? Better yet, are you calling your wife an amateur?” you teased him, watching his face lose colour when he realized that he did exactly that. You leaned over and patted his thigh. “Don’t worry, Bobo. I won’t tell Nat.”

Clint visibly relaxed, but a shadow of worry twisting his expression.

“Seriously though. Where’s your head at, Kid?”

You just shrugged, smile resting on your lips as you wondered if you ever felt so relaxed. It went along well with the reminiscing of the past and despite the fact that tomorrow was a big day and you should probably be nervous, you weren’t. Not in the slightest, more like the opposite. You were giddy even; it dawned to you that nothing in your life had ever felt so right.

No moment in your life offered you such serenity to your heart, your shoulders free of any weight, body light as air.

“Just taking a trip down the memory lane. Thinking about how lucky I was to be dropped at your circus of all circuses of the world,” you grinned at Clint, your tone remaining completely serious.

Because you were being serious – words couldn’t express how grateful for everything that led to this moment you were. How grateful you were to your brother for watching over you, making sure you would always see the light of a new day, guiding you when you found yourself in a dark.

Clint didn’t react beside his fingers twitching and you knew he was giving you the chance to say what you needed to say.

“About how you taught me pretty much everything I know. About how while I might not be the best person in the world, my brother, who is the best brother ever, made me into a decent person and I owe him everything I am. And how I should probably feel guilty for tying myself to another guy who just swept in and whisked away your little sister.”

Clint stared at you, gulping as his eyes gradually filled with tears. You found yourself in a very cheesy moment, bordering on absurd and it was almost too much to handle – but Clint took a deep breath, cleared his throat and swallowed his tears.

“Well, that bastard did steal my greatest life achievement with way too little effort,” he remarked, voice cracking slightly, the image of him causing your eyes to burn as well even if his words made you both tear up and burst out laughing.

“Dammit, Clint, stop making me laugh and cry at the same time…”

“You started it!” he pointed his index finger at you accusingly, taking a large sip of his beer to drown his sentiment. “But for the record, you should not feel guilty. It’s not like you’re leaving me.”

“I know, but-“

“And if you were, you’d be leaving me in good hands.”

“That’s true, Natasha does have a grip on you and might keep you outta trouble-“

“She’s the one who gets me into trouble half of the time!” Clint cried out in protest and you would have argued if it wasn’t the truth.

But before he had met her, Clint was able to make up his own trouble just fine – he was more than half of a reason why while doing a bit of trapeze yourself, you also grew interested in medical care. Because who else than the little sister should treat her big brother’s wounds when he got too crazy?

“In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Twinkie,” he said sincerely, one corner of his lips raised in a lopsided smile. “You’re entirely entitled to have your own life and if there’s one guy in this whole damn world I’m willing to trust to have you… well, I guess it’s that big blond dumbass.”

“He can be a bit dumb of ass occasionally, can’t he?” you mused lovingly. “I guess it’s right what they say… we do pick our partners similar to our parents, maybe not only in looks. I didn’t really have a dad, I had you, so…”

Clint sighed, smile widening, before it slipped from his face as he caught up on the not-so-hidden insult.

“Hey!”

You couldn’t but laugh at his shocked expression, accidently spilling a splosh of beer on the sand.

“Just… maybe make sure that even married, you still find time to hang out with your big dumb of ass brother every once in a while?” Clint suggested, sounding surprisingly vulnerable.

Your whole demander softened, a little pang of guilt stinging in your heart as he took your words too seriously – and at his worry.

“Clint… I will always find time for my amazing brother.”

“Well, you’re marrying a pretty amazing guy too, so, you know, I understand the dilemma…”

You snorted when he seemed to genuinely fawn over your future husband, shaking your head before downing the rest of your drink.

“As amazing as Steve might be – and gosh, he is, don’t get me started – you still own a pretty big chunk of my heart.”

“Good. You are a Barton at heart,” Clint hummed, pretending that a few tears didn’t roll down his cheeks, leaning towards you as his expression once again grew serious.

Your chest tightened. Oh no. He was gonna say something to make you cry too – as if you already weren’t at verge of crying, emotions bubbling under the surface.

“Clint-“ you warned him silently, but he spoke up anyway and you gulped, bracing yourself.

“Just… whatever happens tomorrow, you must promise me one thing. That you will stay who you are. Not a perfect housewife, but a good woman.”

That was not what you were prepared for, as touching as the sentiment was.

You burst out laughing, head thrown back, hands clutching at your stomach as it actually hurt with the sudden clench. Tears did spring from your eyes, a perfect blend of touched and infinitely amused at your brother’s words.

“Har, har, that’s what I get from trying to speak from heart…” Clint muttered grumpily and you willed yourself to calm your hitching breaths as you looked at him, the pout of his mouth causing you to cackle again.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… I am moved, I really am. Thank you. But me? A perfect housewife? And you realize I’m marrying Steve Rogers, right? The epitome of a good man? He would probably threaten to sock me in a jaw if I tried to change into something I’m not just for his sake and actually sock me in my jaw if I turned into a bad woman.”

Clint’s eyebrows jumped, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s a lot of punching.”

“My thoughts exactly,” you agreed, reaching for another can, pausing when a thought occurred to you. “Just so we’re clear, I might turn into a bit of a housewife when we have kids, alright? And I want to be a good wife, a good partner to Steve, which is what I’m trying to do even now.”

“I mean, yeah, sure, wouldn’t expect anything less. But… just promise me you’ll stay you and that you’ll keep giving him a run for his money, keep him on his toes a bit,” Clint shrugged with a grin, drawing another chuckle from you.

You saw his point – and you fully intended to keep Steve on his toes. You had a good reason to believe that your future husband enjoyed when you did.

“Oh Clinton… I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He nodded contentedly, picking up another beer and raising it for a toast, his can clinking with yours.

“Cheers to that!”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you then, a quiet joy wrapped in one moment; the sun ending its quest, the warm breeze in your hair, the waves whispering of a journey you were about to take off to. And all that with a wordless comforting presence of your family, ready to offer you a shelter if a storm rocked your boat and the wind caused you to lose course.

As your mind wandered, you had to laugh at yourself – it was almost as if you were raised by pirates and not circus performers. Perhaps it was the little bit of free cheeky spirit these life journeys had in common what brought the metaphor to your mind. It was a bit like working with the Avengers too, always on a road, adrenaline in your veins even as you mostly stayed on the jet, ready to assist them… yet here you were pondering that maybe, you were yearning for settling down a bit more.

“Cap wouldn’t punch you anyway, right?” Clint remarked, breaking the silence and you blinked yourself back into reality, taking a moment to figure out what he was talking about.

Oh. Right. Steve punching you if you changed yourself significantly for his benefit.

You smiled softly, heart swelling in affection when the answer to that question appeared obvious.

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Good. He’d try once and I’d put an arrow straight between his eyes,” Clint promised darkly, almost causing you to choke at the sudden violent note. He quickly fixed it with a ramble, lightening the atmosphere yet again. “Minus training of course. He’s allowed to try in order to improve your hand-to-hand. Not that he would ever land a hand on you anyway. Always so soft on you…” he grinned, seemingly alright with that attitude if not slightly calling the big strong supersoldier out.

Oh you could be cheeky too alright if that was what your brother wanted.

“That you know of.”

A confused huh was the only reaction you got – that and a puzzled look.

“He’s always soft on me,” you repeated Clint’s words, turning to him, lips slowly spreading in a wicked smirk. “That you know of.”

Clint’s brows furrowed for a short moment and then his features twisted in a disgusted grimace, face growing a tint crimson.

“Gross!” he complained, more blood rushing to his cheeks. “You know what, I changed my mind. We’re leaving. You’re not marrying him. I’m kidnapping the bride and never returning her, locking her somewhere far far away-“

You snorted at his indignation, your grin undoubtedly battling the one of the Cheshire cat.

“No will do, Bobo. I’m marrying Steve and you can’t stop me.”

This time, Clint didn’t even protest, eyes misted over, nose still scrunched at the mental image, lamenting as the night slowly settled over the paradise-like island.

“Oh god, please help, I can’t unsee it, can’t unhear it--- ew-”

Your laughter was carried away by the breeze as Clint seemed to be unable to look at you.

You swung your beer around, thinking that yes – nothing quite ever felt so right as being here in this moment. Relaxing with your brother, teasing him relentlessly and counting down hours to when you’d say ‘I do’ to the only man who in your eyes ever battled the mantle of the best man in the universe.

In one unending moment You fall within my reach I'm close enough to whisper Hold on to me Hold on to me

You weren’t sure what time it was when you snuck into the beach house, one of few, which had been wisely chosen to be occupied by you and Steve only. You attempted to be quiet and liked to think you succeeded, in your even barely tipsy state, but your effort turned out to be in vain as you found Steve perched against headboard of your bed; reading a book, thin white t-shirt and sleep shorts on display as the soft sheet had been kicked away, scrunched up by his feet.

He was gorgeous – he was gorgeous and yours, a momentary picture perfect of peace, appearing to feel just as light as you did and somehow the dullness of the moment, just him relaxing in bed with a good read as you came home… it was more alluring than one would think.

Steve looked up from the book when you wavered in the doorway, soft lopsided smile spreading on his face.

God, that smile. It might be over two years since you saw it for the first time, but it could still make you weak in your knees.

And somehow, it was now even more charming now than the day you met, more tender than just before you kissed for the first time, sweeter than when he proposed.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted you, appreciative gaze roaming your figure and the little too much skin on display – something you regretted when the warm sunrays had bid you goodbye, raising goosebumps. And Steve, the attentive man he was, noticed, his smile earning a teasing edge. “You look a bit cold in there.”

You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out.

“And you look pretty cosy in there. Thought you’d be either asleep or with Bucky.”

Steve shrugged, not letting go of his unfinished chapter just yet, knowing you had a routine to go through before joining him.

“Maybe I missed you. Maybe Bucky is an old man and needs his sleep.”

You chuckled, not rising to the bait – you knew what would follow if you dared to say Steve was just as old. Not that you would complain about Steve trying to convince you about the opposite. You could never.

“Well, I bet he still made you a promise of breaking a bone of mine or two if I ever hurt you. He’ll find energy for that, centenarian or not,” you hummed nonchalantly as you bounced off the doorframe, heading to the bathroom and leaving Steve puzzled by your remark.

“How did you know?” he called out after you, endearingly confused.

“That’s what big brothers do, love!”

Short silence was your answer as you reached for your toothbrush and begun your nighty ritual.

Steve must have figure out what did it mean for him, considering you had a protective brother of your own, because a moment later, his half-amused “noted!” reached your ears.

You chuckled and shook your head, smile spread on your face which you didn’t think could be erased as long as you were in this paradise – free of worry, full of joy. And why wouldn’t you be? You were about to marry one of the smartest, kindest, sassiest and most beautiful men that ever walked the Earth. What was not to love?

You couldn’t but let your mind wander again; if you had only known the day you met, right from that moment, that you’d end up here…. well. It felt a little surreal, knowing that by this time tomorrow, you’d be Steve’s wife; then again, Steve’s life story was surreal enough on its own.

Who would have thought that the stubborn handsome man in the ridiculous suit and you, equally stubborn about you at least checking on the wound upon half-dragging him to a quiet corner in a middle of a battlefield, would grow so close?

It hadn’t been simple. Steve wasn’t the most open guy and while friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly offering his heart on his sleeve, not to strangers. But it hadn’t been too hard, once you were meeting on regular basis. Piece by piece he revealed his true colours and soon after he did… you started falling; hard and fast.

Not necessarily swooning, not on the outside at least; you were a professional, after all. The safety and the well-being of the team was your priority.

It was just too bad – or the best thing, you supposed – that Steve had the same goal as you with one significant difference; as far as he was concerned, the responsibility to look after his team sometimes excluded him.

Oh, was he wrong about that.

And boy, did you let him know you thought so. You still kept proving him wrong to this day and was planning on nurturing his own acknowledgement of his self-worth till your last breath…

“Get your ass in here, Steve!” you called out after him, slowly losing patience as you had tried asking politely the previous two times with no result but being dismissed.

The change of tone and language made his head snap to you from where he was talking to Sam, an offended scowl on his face.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Captain. Don’t be a stubborn jerk and get your ass in here so I can clean your cuts.”

A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been able to talk to him like that; to the great legend, Captain America. At least you certainly wouldn’t have called him his first name and maybe, just maybe, you’d be a little less crass. But now? He might be Captain America still, a hero who deserved all the good things for the sacrifices he made for the world’s safety, but first and foremost, he was just Steve to you.

A colleague, a teammate, a friend. You might not be a part of the team per se, not the way Clint, Natasha or Steve were, but you still belonged. And you were all friends.

Friends irritated each other sometimes and frankly, Steve was often battling with Tony for the mantle of the most infuriating one.

Friends also needed to call each other out on their bullshit by any means necessary when the time was right and now the time was as good as any.

Usually, Steve slipped through your fingers, because he was a supersoldier and the others weren’t, so their injuries took precedence; today, it was only Natasha, Sam and Steve, and the captain was the only one whom you hadn’t checked yet. And you knew there were things to check, the trickle of blood from his eyebrow probably the least of your concerns.

“I wouldn’t argue with her, Steve. She can be pretty stubborn. Clint wouldn’t stop complaining about it,” Natasha supported you from the pilot seat and you fought yourself so you wouldn’t grin at her in victory – it would only irritated Steve further. “She’s almost as bull-headed as you are.”

At that, your smile would have slipped. But honestly, she wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t I know it,” Steve grunted, sparing Sam another glance and when the Falcon himself beckoned to you as well, wordlessly asking Steve to get himself checked up.

The captain sighed irately, but made his way back to the separate and well-lit space of your examination room.

He didn’t try to hide his annoyance – in fact, he squared his shoulders and his steps sounded a bit loud for anyone to believe it was a coincidence. Also, the scowl of exasperation never left his otherwise handsome face.

“This is completely unnecessary. A stupid waste of time,” he hissed as he walked past you and you took a deep calming breath, exchanging an eyeroll with Sam before you disappeared from sight.

“Captain. I respect you and your position, but you say one more time that my job here is unnecessary and stupid, you’ll be looking for a new medic,” you retorted as he stripped the upper part of his uniform angrily, revealing his white-tank-top-clad torso.

Well, at least the fabric used to be white – now a blood stain the size of both of your palms was seeping into the material at Steve’s right side, gushing from what definitely appeared to be a knife wound.

You were gonna murder him one of those days... unless he got killed himself first.

“Seriously?!”

“It’s just a graze-” he started to argue but you cut him off when you tore the fabric away. He winced as some of the dried blood had acted as a glue, having stuck the cloth into the wound, and now was violently ripped off.

“Tr to insinuate again that I’m incompetent at recognizing what’s just a graze, Steve. I dare you. This is a cut wide and deep enough for stitches! Haven’t you had the serum, you could have been bleeding out to death on this table!”

“But I do have it-“

“Or for fuck’s SAKE, stop being a baby and let me treat the bloody gash in your right mesogastric area! The serum accelerates your healing, but it doesn’t make you invincible OR immortal as far as I know--- Jesus fucking Christ-!”

He bristled, taking a deep breath to fight back, but he never got the chance, because you started working and the words died in his throat. Surprisingly, inspecting the damage, poking around a knife wound that might have already begin to seal itself thanks to Erskine’s formula but had not been just a graze hurt and coincidentally, it pulled the rug from under his feet.

To his credit, Steve barely even hissed at the pain.

“Just so you know, I’ll be using the disinfection that stings worse,” you noted, voice dripping venom, because you were genuinely done with Steve’s bullshit.

You lied through your teeth though. You wouldn’t. No matter how infuriating Steve was and how difficult he made your life – causing you to fall for his stupid martyr ass and pine after him among other things – you would never purposely hurt him.

And he must have sensed that, because your remark didn’t earn you a murderous glare or a retort – much to your surprise.

In fact, Steve fell entirely quiet, watching you work without protest, not even objecting when you applied enough local anaesthetic to knock out an elephant and sewed the tissue together so it healed easier. He let you inspect the rest of his torso and bandage his ribs, vigorously shaking his head when you asked him if he was injured anywhere below the waist.

He observed you as you kept an eye on his face for any minute sign of pain he’d be hiding, but all you could see were his irises, startlingly bright blue, pools of honesty and something you had trouble decoding. He seemed… humbled almost. It silenced the anger inside you, the flames of rage – and fear for his well-being, if you were being honest with yourself – turning into a barely smouldering pile of ash.

When you moved on to his head, gently pushing away the strands which obscured the gash on his eyebrow, his eyelids slid shut. You knew how unpleasant facial injuries were, especially around one’s eyes and so you took care to be extra careful as you cleaned the wound and the area surrounding it, most definitely not using the stingy disinfectant.

Not that Steve could get an infection as far as you knew. It was more force of a habit than anything else… and it made you feel better. He had this idiotic mask of an invincible hero he put up sometimes and it drove you insane, because you knew he was only human, a beautiful kind soul, but god, could he be an ass.

“Almost done,” you whispered soothingly when you noticed his jaw tightening as you had to apply a bit more pressure to get a tiny piece of gravel from the cut. You certainly didn’t want that to stay under the newly healing skin.

The moment you retreated with the bloody gauze, Steve’s eyes were back on you, wide and regretful.

“I’m sorry,” he offered quietly, a genuine apology that sounded almost absurd after you two were hissing at each other like damn hellcats. “I didn’t mean to--- I’m sorry for being rude and ungrateful. Thank you for taking care of my injuries.”

One glance into those deep irises and benign hesitant smile and you were done for. How could you stay mad at him? Well, you were still mad at him for the absolute disregard of his own health, but… well. You also understood he felt like he needed to stay strong for the team and put them first and how he actually was in pain.

Pretty much everyone was a pain in the ass when in pain.

You sighed as you searched for few band-aid strips to cover the cut.

“It’s alright, Steve. I’m used to old men being grumpy and not meaning things they say when they are,” you offered lightly and he hung his head with a chuckle, clearly not taking the old man remark personally – and understanding you were referring to your brother.

His smile was wider when he looked up again. “You shouldn’t have to be used to it.”

You shrugged, carefully slipping two fingers under his chin to angle his face so you could stick the strips over the wound.

“Well, I deserve it sometimes. I don’t mean to… to be overbearing and make you feel like you’re incompetent or something,” you added hesitantly, worrying your teeth over your lower lip as the tone you’d been handling him with caught up with you. Perhaps you could have been nicer.

You smoothened the stripes of band-aid, gulping as you felt Steve’s gaze boring into your face while you continued.

“I know you’re not incompetent. You’re very capable, you’re the best. It’s just… I still--- worry- for all of you. For the full-time Earth’s mightiest heroes. Silly, huh?” you muttered self-depreciatingly and when your eyes met, you were startled by the intensity he watched you with as you laid your fears bare in front of him, leaving you vulnerable. You swiftly looked away and dropped your hands. “Here, almost as good as new.”

A lump grew in your throat as you stripped your gloves, tossing them into the bin. Did you reveal too much? Didn’t it sound silly indeed as you said it out loud? Yes, you were all friendly with each other, but you were supposed to be a professional, focused on your task, not getting distracted by-

-by Steve gently grasping your wrist, causing your heart to skip a startled beat. Definitely not getting weak in the knees when you shot him a surprised glance and he just… brought your hand to his face, lips briefly skimming over your knuckles.

Jesus Christ, Lord have mercy with me.

“Don’t you ever apologize for caring. Don’t stop caring. Silly is the last thing I’d call it.”

Your cheeks felt like set on fire, stomach fluttering as well as your heart. You could feel the ghost of Steve’s lips on your skin, sending your heartrate sky-high, causing your head to spin a bit, your body hot all over.

Did he really—did he just-? And did it mean that… did it mean anything at all?

He let go of your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles, but held your gaze adamantly as he gave you a sad smile and rose to his feet, clearly ready to leave.

You, on the hand, stood there frozen, mind racing.

Why had he done that? Was he really just trying to express gratitude and say sorry for his previous behaviour? Because that was not the way it was supposed to be done, because such tenderness left you entirely bewildered. Was he trying to tell you he was somehow interested in something more than friendship? Was he just high from the anaesthetic, mind you, local one that was not supposed to mess with his brain? Was there any sign of a head injury you missed?

“Thank you, again,” he whispered softly, moving to sidestep you and your hand instinctively shot out, latching onto his forearm… gently.

You gulped, heart stuttering when he glanced at you, puzzled.

One part of you wanted to sink into the floor in embarrassment at your unwitting reaction. Another part of you observed him so closely that you would swear that there was another emotion in his eyes and it was neither apology nor gratitude. You wistfully hoped for longing, the same longing you felt when you were near him, sometimes distant and barely there, other times so acute it hurt.

With your stomach somersaulting in doubt, you willed yourself to raise your free hand slowly, purposely giving him a chance – Lord, please, don’t let him take it – to stop you before your palm settled on his cheek.

You were certain you experienced a small cardiac arrest when Steve not only didn’t avoid the touch, but actually leaned into it, gaze fixed on your face, eyes brighter and softer than you ever remembered seeing. Your gaze flickered to his mouth deliberately, throat turning dry. Too daring? He kissed you knuckles, surely you could reciprocate some affection?

Swallowing against your dry throat, you leaned in before you could change your mind and dropped the briefest peck to his lips, causing his eyelids to flutter shut.

Oh no. Oh no no no no, you totally crossed a line-

You went to retreat your hands from him, but the second you moved, his eyes were snapping open, hand covering yours on his face to keep it there, the other cradling your face and then there was a warm and soft sensation on your own lips as he seized them with his.

Your mind went completely blank save two single thoughts: Steve is kissing me. I really like that.

A small sound escaped you, a blend of surprise and contentment, breaking you from your trance and turning you into an actual participant of the pleasant and entirely unexpected activity.

You drew in a small breath, head spinning from the scent of Steve’s shampoo, disinfectant, sweat and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and not caring.

He tasted faintly of blood, but otherwise was nothing but sweet as his lips caressed yours, gently tugging at your lower lip and then the upper, the lightest graze of teeth and tease of tongue, finger pressing into your jaw to pull you closer, thumb stroking your cheek.

You whimpered involuntarily when his lips parted from yours, soothing as they returned for a short peck, to drop a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, to brush your cheek.

Your name was a breathy whisper between the two of you, barely audible as all you could hear was your heartbeat pulsing frantically in your ears, growing aware of your fingers clutching at Steve’s still unzipped armour and nearly sinking in his hair, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You didn’t dare to open your eyes – what if you dreamed it up? What if you looked at him and saw regret – it didn’t feel like he would be regretting it, but… still. Insecurity tugged at your mind as it slowly cleared from the literally breath-taking kiss.

Steve repeated your name with urgency that was unheard of, the single word sounding almost as a plea.

“Please say something.”

Oh.

You blinked your eyes open, surprised to be met with his searching gaze, a minute furrow of his brows. It seemed you weren’t the only one whose mind was being the worst of one’s enemies.

Perhaps your brain was being stupid. Perhaps you both wanted this. Perhaps you felt exactly the same.

As you forced yourself to move, fingers actually slipping into his hair to caress his nape, Steve inhaled shakily, shoulders slumping. The tinniest of smiles tugged at his mouth, tempting red and minutely swollen from the kiss; you had to resist the urge to just taste it again.

Instead, you licked your lips only, savouring the previous sensations, smiling unwittingly.

“That’s… uhm, that’s a really creative new way of driving me crazy.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose along with one corner of his mouth, relief written all over his face.

“Oh? There are other ways in which I’m driving you crazy? Because I couldn’t tell...”

You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t think he bought you unconvincing act of being irritated with him at such remark.

“Don’t push it, Captain,” you warned him, but your treacherous mouth kept curling up in a smile, your body still buzzing with aftershocks of the kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Uh-huh… s-sure,” you stuttered briefly as his thumb caressed your cheek, bright smiling eyes watching only inches from your face – and yet it felt like he was too far.

“You’re driving me crazy too, you know,” he noted in a breathy voice, causing you to gulp as his gaze flickered to your mouth, clearly implying how you do so… among other ways… like your stubbornness practically matching his.

“Oh really? I do? I couldn’t tell…”

He chuckled, his hand slipping to your nape, soft tickle of his fingers making you squirm.

“I’m gonna kiss you again now if that’s okay,” he whispered, not waiting for your permission and erasing the distance between your lips again.

Still, you whispered your approval to his mouth.

“So okay…”

Long moments later when Sam called out to warn you that you’d be landing soon, you said yes to the grumpy old man’s request to let him treat you dinner.

Oh if you only knew by then how far you’d come…

Lost in thought, goofy smile on your face, you exited the bathroom, ready to snuggle your future husband… and to fully take the opportunity to make love, last night before you officially became his and he became yours.

You had a brief second to register that the bed was empty, your heart skipping a started and disappointed beat. The second you stepped out though, you were literally swept off your feet.

A yelp erupted from your throat as you found yourself with no ground under your feet and high in the air, one of Steve’s arms under your knees, the other under your back. Your hands frantically gripped at the nearest firm point, Steve’s shoulder and arm as you finally realized what the hell happened and was met with a cheeky grin and sparkling blue of his eyes.

That traitor was waiting just by the door to ambush you! Why?

You slapped his very much bare shoulder playfully, hissing a curse, not unaware of the heat radiating of him and seeping into your skin.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack!” you complained, but he didn’t even have the decency to look apologetic.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“No, you’re not.”

Steve grinned wider, shrugging and pulling you closer to his torso, nuzzling your temple and dropping a placatory kiss there.

“Still looking a little cold.”

“No, I look like this because you scared me,” you emphasized, vainly trying to resist the seduction; a mixture of playfulness, sweetness and blatant display of strength as he still held you with ease. It was hard not to be temped. “And you look like you’re awfully warm, parading here without a shirt.”

“Well, I’d call us even since you’re parading around in these absolutely sinful shorts. Makes me hot. I can warm you up,” he mumbled to your skin, lips moving to your ear, causing you to shudder.

How was it so easy for him to make you all hot and bothered? You guessed that at least, as he said, it made you even... it wasn’t difficult to get him riled up either.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Driving you crazy?” Steve offered, sounding awfully delighted at the idea and you only melted into him further at the reminiscence of your first kiss and what followed.

“Always,” you confirmed, deadly serious, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips or the mewl that escaped you when his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck.

“But you love it.”

“Uh-huh…”

“I can live with that with that then,” he said, stalking to the bed determinately. “Now let me drive you so crazy you can barely speak and the only sound you’re making is whimpering my name.”

He all but tossed you on the bed, a yelp of his name in fact erupting from your throat, followed by a fit of giggles that only died when his mouth seized yours, his lips only leaving when heading south to indeed drive you crazy.

And yes; you loved it.

And you loved him too.

In one unending moment I fall within your reach My song a sweet surrender Hold on to me Hold on to me

Before the girls could steal you from him, Steve decided – with your enthusiastic agreement – that you should once again try how it felt to make some morning lovin’ outside marriage. With the ceremony planned for the late afternoon, you had plenty of time; and needless to say, it was bliss. Then again, you believed that marital sex with Steve would be just as delightfully pleasant, thank you very much.

Then, it was a whirlwind – make up, hair, dress, a tear or two spilled when you saw the result in the mirror.

More tears spilled when you glanced out of the window and saw the tastefully and modestly decorated arch, the path created by few scattered rose petals, the male part of your almost family sans Clint in the suits, effectively hiding Steve from you; and you from his just in case, because no one wanted any bad luck.

Your staring was interrupted when your brother went to pick you up to lead you down the aisle.

Upon entering the room and setting his gaze on you, he promptly looked away with a sniffle. It both warmed your heart and made you laugh as did his remark.

“Nope, not giving you to him. In fact, I’m never giving you to anyone. No one will ever be worthy, so I’m keeping you.”

“Hush, Clinton, you’ll still have me,” Natasha winked at him as he took a deep calming breath before carefully eyeing you again.

Clearly, it hadn’t done the job, because few tears still found their way down his cheeks.

“You’re a knock-out, sis,” he sputtered hastily, but no less honestly – clearly moved to tears.

And yet… you snorted at his choice of words and he rolled his eyes, quick to compliment your beauty instead.

You wouldn’t have it any other way though, even appreciating his first remark more for it came from the bottom of his heart rather than from what convention required.

Embracing you carefully in fear he would mess up the work of art his wife and other girls created, he held you in his arms for a moment, as you retuned the hug, clutching at his suit with a little too force. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bridesmaids clearing the room.

“It’s not like I’m leaving you, Bobo,” you hummed with a smile, throwing his own words from last night at him.

And you weren’t leaving him; your heart swelled with love for your brother, your father figure, your long-life friend.

With sniffle, he let go of you and looked you up and down, proud smile spreading on his lips.

“It’s okay. If you are, I have the best spy in the world for a wife, we’ll drag your ass back home.”

You just slapped his chest playfully and took a deep breath – it was time. Clint grasped your hand firmly then, elbows interlocking, and went to step out just a moment after the bridesmaids left to join the groomsmen.

Well-aware everyone was going to stare and that Steve awaited you at the end of the aisle to marry you, your legs were shaking minutely as the magnitude of the event finally dawned to you.

“Getting second thoughts now?” Clint teased you, eliciting a chuckle from you and shake of your head.

What a question.

“No. Just… please don’t let me fall,” you muttered to him, entirely serious and grateful for your choice of footwear – simple flats hidden by the long flowing skirt of your dress. Better chance of not spraining your ankle on your wedding day.

“Never.”

Clint squeezed your hand under his warm palm and you took a deep breath, stepping into the doorway. Soft melody welcomed you, your very own wedding march Bruce was playing on a mouth organ – something you had previously had no idea he was capable of.

Looking up from your skirt, you feasted your eyes on the company and the beautiful scenery for only a regretfully short moment, grateful for Sam’s Redwing programmed to record and take photos.

Your gaze instinctively searched the small crowd instead, until it fell under the arch where three men stood.

One of them was Sam himself, having obtained a licence so he could be your wedding registrar; he looked positively dashing. So did Bucky, who patted his best friend dressed in his old-fashioned green captain uniform on the shoulder, his smirk visible even from tens feet away as he stepped back.

Naturally, your gaze lingered on Steve, your feet acting of their own accord and following your brother’s lead.

Gosh, your future husband was the most handsome and absolutely hottest specimen to ever walk the Earth. Hair combed neatly to one side and in his old army uniform, he truly looked like the gentleman from another era he was and yet, he undeniably belonged exactly where he was. His eyes were bright and blue just like the sky, lips slightly parting before curling up into a brilliant smile which somehow still carried the tenderness he treated you with when he felt particularly affectionate.

He must have uttered something under his breath, because Bucky pressed his lips together as if he was holding back laugh. The absolutely best best man, ladies and gentleman.

Your found yourself smiling just as widely, a stray tear tickling the corner of your eye and you had to fight the sudden urge to ditch Clint in order to gather your skirts and run the rest of the way just to jump into Steve’s arms.

But in reality, there was no rush – here, on the damn island Tony rented, there was so much time that one short walk meant nothing in comparison.

“Alright, maybe I’ll give you to him,” Clint whispered, making you bite the inside of your cheek so you would cackle.

Leave it to your brother he would find Steve Rogers so fine he’d be willing to give you out just to have him become a part of your family.

One corner of Steve’s lips twitched in amusement – supersoldier hearing didn’t miss the remark then. Good. Then Bucky heard it too and you had a witness just in case Clint would change his mind. Again.

Finally, with your heart almost in your throat, you reached the end of the aisle, Clint gently putting your hand into Steve’s… without letting go.

“You be nice to her, Cap. And I mean really nice, you hear? Or else-“

“Hush,” you hissed good-naturedly in your brother’s direction, winking at him before you returned your gaze to Steve. “Hey there, handsome.”

Steve chuckled under his breath when Clint stepped back. He returned the greeting with soft ‘hey there, beautiful’ and then proceeded to lift your joined hands, brushing your knuckles with his lips – just like the day you shared your first kiss.

Well now you truly found yourself on the verge of crying. And Lord, you wanted to kiss him so much-

Sam cleared his throat loudly, casting you both a meaningful look as if he could read your mind and wanted to remind you that there were a few things to go through before that could happen.

Ugh. Formalities. Just let me kiss him…

Steve licked his lips – the audacity! – and turned, lightly tugging at your hand so you both faced your friend who held a little leather book open, beckoning towards the guests: Bucky and Natasha, the best man and the best woman, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Vision, Wanda, Sharon, Pepper. Just your closest friends and family.

Sam cleared his throat again.

“Alright. We all know why we gathered here today. To get these two amazing people married, so they could officially become a special team within our team.”

You grinned, peripherally noticing Steve eyeing you as well. Team indeed.

“This is the part where I would ask all of you, bride and groom included, to speak up now if you’re aware of anything standing in the way of this wedlock or to remain silent forever. But frankly, if you have something to say, right now is the perfect time to keep it to yourself. Just let these lovebirds get married…”

Muffled laughter and giggles erupted from your group. Honestly, you wouldn’t say it better. You noticed Clint shifting and Natasha forcefully holding his hand down; you bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t laugh and sent her a grateful smile instead. The best maid of honour ever.

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear, folks. We have the rings, correct? Great. Just so you know, these two saps asked me to read one vow which they are making to each other, because they didn’t trust themselves to say theirs individually without bursting into tears. So now it’s left to me to cry instead. Thanks for that.”

Your cheeks were honestly starting to hurt from smiling so wide, but tears prickled in your eyes acutely just at the thought of the vow you agreed on. You spent countless hours thinking about what you wanted to say and realized that your vow would be too long and that you would in fact start crying and that you could never name all the things you loved Steve for. It had been a relief to find out that Steve shared the sentiment and the deal was made.

Natasha and Bucky dutifully laid the rings on the pillow Wanda’s powers held levitating by your and Steve’s side – not without Bucky finding a split second to compliment your appearance and earning a brief smirk from Steve.

“I know,” Steve uttered and you wondered if there was a dare going around as to who would make you burst out laughing first.

This was your wedding dammit. You could be at least a bit a lady and remain collected.

Hardly.

“With this ring,” Sam started, breathing in and out and you knew you already lost, first tear rolling down your cheek as you gazed into Steve’s inviting eyes, “I give myself to you without giving up myself. With this ring, I surrender to you for I have faith you understand the value of wielding such power and for I deem you worthy of it. With this ring, I promise to love you, to respect you and to support you to be your best self as I trust you to do the same for me, for us.”

You blinked away the waterfalls, reaching almost blindly for Steve’s ring and with fingers trembling – with giddiness, not nerves – you somehow succeeded at slipping it on his left ring finger.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice cracking even in such simple sentence and the watery smile Steve graced you with made your ribcage feel too small for your swelling heart.

Fingers equally clumsy, he slipped a ring on you as well, shoulders squaring as if in pride.

“I do,” he said firmly, the damp path down his left cheek only adding severity to his vow.

“You may-- uhm, okay, you may kiss the bride, your wife--- I mean, Mrs. Rogers. You may kiss the groom, your husband…” Sam mumbled under his breath until he didn’t, because Steve pulled you in for a kiss the same moment Sam said the first ‘may’ and incidentally, the same moment you practically threw yourself at Steve.

Laughter and whistles erupted from the group of your friends as Steve bend you back dramatically, the determined press of his lips to yours not at all disrupted by the change of angle, claiming your mouth in ways that made you shudder and stirred flames in your belly.

Years and years later, you’d recall that kiss and realized an amazing thing; how it felt just like your first kiss, your last one, and every single one in between.

With you still practically horizontal, Steve’s crinkling eyes met yours, delighted smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he hummed, adding a cheeky grin. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“The horror,” you muttered back teasingly, pulling at his nape, demanding another kiss, your own declaration whispered to his mouth. “I love you too, Mr. Rogers.”

And you did. Gosh, you did.

S.R. masterlist

(divider by firefly-graphics)

Well. This turned out SO DIFFERENTLY than I anticipated and SO MUCH LONGER. If you feel like leaving feedback, I’ll be grateful. If not, well. *shurgs*

Excuse me while I go and continue dreaming of ONE fictional man. Ugh. Anyway.

Thank you for reading!

And once again, thanks to WIYBUPT for hosting and for just being awesome in general :)

#catfa 10th anniversary challenge #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #barton reader #barton reader fic #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fafiction #steve rogers fanfic #my timid hello my clumsy goodbye #anika ann

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mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years

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Movies I watched in May

Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch. So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021 Tenet (2020) - 8/10 This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.

Nomadland (2020) - 6/10 Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal. The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10 I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.

Chinatown (1974) - 8/10 What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful. Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10 Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.

Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10 The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch. Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10 If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there. Red Road (2006) - 6/10 Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience. Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10 One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.

Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10 This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother. Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10 Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy. Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10 Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger. The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10 Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10 Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever. Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10 Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast. Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10 For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared. Wadjda (2012) - 6/10 Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.

Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10 A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago. The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011) I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends. Solaris (1972) - 8/10 Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely. Jaws (1975) - 4/10 I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.

Darkman (1990) - 6/10 Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10 Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast. Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10 Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast. F For Fake (1973) - 8/10 Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.

The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10 More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise. Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10 The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat. Irreversible (2002) - 8/10 One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family. The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10 I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.

Antichrist (2009) - 8/10 Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions: It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know? So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!" And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle. Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10 Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though. Roar (1981) - 9/10 Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough. Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10 I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!

Se7en (1995) - 10/10 The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33. Zodiac (2007) - 10/10 Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode). Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10 My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast. Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10 It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.

Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10 I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was. Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10 After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution. The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10 Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!

The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10 About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34. Babel (2006) - 9/10 The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast. Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10 After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.

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juchumice · 4 years

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ive been thinking abt this avatar au for SO LONG!! i know some other exists but i still really wanted to put my spin on it and make them younger so it could be a bit more contextually different, so they’re roughly 14 during the au!

AIZAWA: aizawa’s a waterbender from the northern water tribe. initially, many believed he was a nonbender as it took quite awhile longer for his bending to reveal itself than the other children. he has zero talent concerning waterbending, none at all. in fact, he was absolutely terrible at it initially. but, if there was one thing he was certain about in youth, it was being an excellent waterbender. when first applying to waterbending classes, he was considered far too inexperienced to join. the instructor was a stern type. he told aizawa that he had, “no potential,” and should focus less on waterbending and more on hand to hand combat to waste less time. instead of listening, aizawa practiced terribly. everyday, every moment, he would be waterbending from dusk to dawn till he stumbled from lack of sleep. he even founded his own method, drenching his scarf of spongey material in water and bending it as a weapon. after further practice, he finally got accepted into the course with pure hard work. the issue was that everyone in his class was younger than him, talented and brilliant. none of them worked as hard as he did. they all were children just playing around. as the bending moves increased in difficulty, aizawa began to fall behind again, so his whole day would be absolutely swallowed in practice, practice, and practice. he would be beaten constantly by his peers: during spars, general displays of moves, and learning, so he couldn’t rely on his own power, instead focusing on strength in addition to strategy and observation. it was this adjustment of tactics that led him higher in his studies. he was able to graduate the minor classes, but his instructor thought it was best to get more experience in bending rather than continually relying on his other strengths, so he was sent away from home to study abroad among the other kingdoms and view their bending techniques.

YAMADA: yamada is an air nomad, but he is one of the very few who does not appear to be capable of bending. due to the spiritual nature of the air nomads, there are very few who are unable to airbend, and yamada is one of them. but, everyone else was very supportive even without his bending. he was able to have many friends, however couldn’t join in their air bending games. that’s where he learned his talent for announcing. as the other kids would play their games of air ball and pie toss, he’ll be there on the sidelines, narrating every single thing with his peculiar flare that led to his popularity among the northern air temple. though, even with everyone’s supportive nature, yamada was unhappy with his position. ever since he was but a toddler, he really wanted to be an airbender, streaking across the sky on a glider and riding on air scooters, only to be sorely disappointed. sure, he was able to ‘fly’ with his flying bison’s, baito’s, help but it just wasn’t the same. after a bit, he ran from the northern air temple, sick and tired of living in such a small space. with far too many fantasies on his mind, yamada wished to explore the other nations. it was then he stumbled across the fire nation. they were fascinating. their own fierce power, their sense of fashion, their culture, everything drew yamada closer. he would watch their shows with undisguised excitement, even announcing for a couple of them. while announcing for one of the firebender shows, yamada was required to choose a volunteer from the crowd, which just happened to be aizawa. this led to the beginning of their interactions.

so that’s it i guess! my main ideas for the avatar au! yamada has a glider, but he uh... stole it. just carries it around a lot to ‘feel like an airbender’-- and it’s a great umbrella when it rains!

the au itself takes place before the 100 year war so no worries abt any firebenders just yet!! i might develop it more but this is where its at so farrr

also i wrote a lil small thing while i was playin with the idea:

...

“You know… I always wanted to bend,” Yamada said. He kicked up the dust with a shoe, frowning at the cloud that billowed around his feet as if it could disappear with a simple scrutinizing look. But, it didn’t. Merely floated to and fro without a care of his whims.

Aizawa examined him carefully. There was no sound made, just an invitation to continue.

Yamada blew at several pieces of hair that loosened from his bush that he called a hairstyle. “Yeah. Sounds ‘crazy’! But, it made total sense! Look, look, look, I would be an EPIC airbender. You have to admit. I mean, look how cool my poses are!” He proceeded to strike several different ‘airbending poses’ that neither suggested coolness nor airbending.

“You’ve watched too many firebending shows,” Aizawa replied.

“But that’s what makes it so cool! The fire just exploding into the sky like Pompeii, but you can only see these red sparkles and nothing goes wrong… Imagine doing that… Imagine…” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Being a bender must be fun, huh…” His staff loosened from his fingers to slide and clatter to the floor. “Don’t even use this DUMB thing! I dunno why I keep it all the time… Maybe, oh! Maybe every time I hold it I get a 1% increase in being an airbender or something! Yeah… tough luck. You know? You know how stupid it is when EVERYONE in the temple’s an airbender and you’re stuck being the only kid around-- believe me they’re all super nice about it-- BUT ME?? THE ONLY ONE!! Don’t feel bad for me or I’ll strangle you or something, but it still freaking sucks. Man, air scooters? I totally would’ve invented those if I was an airbender…”

On and on he jabbered. He could have done this if he was an airbender, or maybe he could have done this! Aizawa was unsure what to respond with. He never understood. Sure, he understood hardship and running raggedly through the critics and holding one’s goals to heart. A waterbender who couldn’t bend water for crap? That’s what they called him, might as well give up they had said, but he powered through and became skilled with pure hard work. No luck, no cheats, and no talent. Yamada was the opposite case, full of supporting faces and ancient smiles, but just no bending in general. How could someone so hopeful be met with such a grisly fate? Yet, all that Aizawa could offer was a tongue-in-cheek, “Sorry.”

Yamada stopped talking abruptly. “Huh?”

“I said sorry.”

“Oh. Yeah. Don’t say sorry, man! What’s the fun in that, too gloomy Aizawa, waaaay too gloomy. Y’know, it is what it is! I got a sweet gig going on anyway, I don’t need anything as stupid as airbending. Only saps use airbending, they probably think it’s cool or something, but it isn’t haha. Waterbending, firebending, earthbending, that stuff’s cool! Airbending’s just some playing around with wind or something.”

#Avatar AU #Present Mic #Hizashi Yamada #Eraserhead #Shouta Aizawa #Erasermic #BNHA #MHA #My hero Academia #Boku no Hero Academia

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snarkylinda · 2 years

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Why do you want Ash to be sad? Man, people these days can't let characters be happy. What do you mean I'm the same? (Shoves angsty fanfic behind my back) I have no idea what you're talking about.

But on the subject, I am so confused about where I stand on this. Like, I want him to win so bad because my boy deserves it, but like... there has been no conflict this season aside from Bea who vanished a while ago, so losing would hit hard. And serve as a nice segway into SV anime. I want him to win, it would be epic as all hell, but also the angst of losing? Is there no way to have both? JN is all about breaking tradition despite its poor execution, so I want a choose your ending lol.

You got me on the first half, ngl. I was ready to get anxious lmao No anon, I don't want him to be sad.....I want him to feel anxious, insecure, guilty, desperate, defeated- but yes sad in sintesis.

I normally wouldn't want him to lose, he deserves everything. But both from a logistic and emotional point....it would be better if he did. Like image how POWERFUL it would be if executed right-not only on Ash himself but on his surrondings- showing all of Ash's friends after years....only for to see him lose?-

-lemme go full fanfic real quick cause I like angst and apparently, so do you-

image little Bonnie and Max crying on their respective's siblings's arms, Delia and Burnet tearing up at the sigh of their little ray of light losing like that as Lei looks up at his mom all confused- Dawn "daiyobuu, daiyobuu" at a tearful Piplup as she herself smiles through her tears; Paul leaving the room as Regi asks him if he doesn't want to see the closure ceremony, getting a lone "what for?" in response; the Alolians slowly lowering their "champion" signs, image all the POKEMON both in the ranch and in Alola, lowering their ears/heads as Tracey tries to give a comforting pat to a tearful Bayleef, Rowlet comforting an teary eyed Melmetal (he can get tear-eyed trust me) as Gladion's lycaroc pets an whining Dusk doggo, the RELEASED pokemon like Greninja, Nagadeel, Nebby, Squirtle, etc FELT something went wrong cause even through the distance their hearts are with Ash's, so they do that anime thing where they stop what they were doing to look with concern over their shoulder; Gary who just recently got back home in time to watch his bestie perform simply pats Infernape on the shoulder and whisper a little "He has come a long a way, but still...." and speaking of bittersweet reactions, Brock and Misty met to watch it together (he went to her gym cause he is a sweetie and knows of her schedule) and share this looks that is all "we are proud of how much our lil bro had progressed (that is how I see the trio's dynamic) but....darn" (if they were allowed to swear you know Misty would utter an "fucking hell" with a smile, but with tears on the corner of her eyes); Cilan and Iris also got together to watch it, he wanted to cheer her up too, after all. Welp, his job just got doubled. Back in Alola after the initial shock is wear down Kiawe lets out a "tsk" thing and kicks a nearby table, being scolded by Lana....because he didn't kick it hard enough, and proceed to do so herself. "Should we stop them?" utter Principal Oak toward his stellar teacher, who simply shakes his head with eyes hidden by the brim of his cap (heh, like father like son) he also, wants to kick the stupid table. Like the two mentioned older siblings, Gladion is also comforting his younger sister, but albeit a bit more awkwardly since one, he is not used to it and two, he also wants to kick the table. Mallow sadly at a cake she made as a present for Ash as they were planning an Alola surprised after the M8- well, it could be used as an consolation price, she guessed. Serena is about to enter a new contest, dress and all, but stopped to watch the match on the TV of the hall and was called for it shortly after it ended- despite her best attends to smile, she knew she couldn't bring her 100% that day. Back in the stadium, with Goh in tears, Hop is looking at the stadium, pussled, Goh tries to be polite and congrats him for his brother victory but "He....doesn't look too happy about it" and he is not.

I seriously need to put this on fanfic format

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years

Text

Thicker Than Water (Part 2)

Part 1, (Here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Ao3 link HERE

Here we are y’all, it only gets sadder before we heal the hurt.

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Of all the eyes he could have met, purely by chance, in a forest while running from people who wanted to kill him, Yennefer’s were not the one’s he would have chosen. He wasn’t sure who he’d like to see right now. Geralt definitely, but also not. It was only a small mercy Geralt wasn’t with his witchy lady love right now.

She met his eyes, intense and unexpected, like heat lightning. She looked him up and down, lip curling, disgusted and pitying, but somehow not as unkindly as he’d expected. She turned.

“Geralt,” she yelled. “I found your pet.”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

He was about to turn and...run? Hide? What could he do? But then a pale face peeked around a tree. White blonde hair, bright, cautious eyes.

Then the girl gasped and ran forward.

“Dandelion!” The rising cry of delight frightened birds from the trees and a blue blur rushed at him. He was slammed to the ground by a rather bedraggled princess and he had never been so glad.

Of all the people he had burdened, he’d never felt like one around Ciri. Her arms were a vice around his neck. He hadn’t been hugged like that since his sister had passed away and he sat up in the cold, damp leaves, clutching her to him. She looked up at him with a face like a moonbeam.

“I found the white wolf, from your stories,” she said. Her eyes were big and trusting and she seemed to expect Jaskier to be pleased and proud. And he was. He had no doubt that Geralt and Ciri would be good for one another. The issue was that now he had to deal with--

“Jaskier.”

Shit. Geralt.

He stood, setting Ciri gently down and brushing himself off. He turned.

“Hello Geralt,” he said evenly. He hoped it was evenly. Don’t yell at me, he thought. Don’t tell me I’m a burden again, as he stared into impassive golden eyes. I know I’m a burden but just let me leave, I won’t bother you again but I can’t bear it.

“Dandelion can come with us, right Geralt?” Ciri said. The White Wolf raised one eyebrow.

“Dandelion?”

Ciri clutched Jaskier’s hand in one of her mittens. “He played at my name day banquets, all of them, but Jaskier’s hard to say when you’re a baby.”

Geralt met Jaskier’s eyes and it felt like a physical blow.

“Hmmm,” he said.

“Little highness,” Jaskier said sweeping his most over the top bow. “I am afraid I cannot stay, and shall have to part from your delightful company.”

“Is Nilfguaard not looking for you,” Yennefer said cooly.

“They’ve yet to find me.”

“Yet,” Yennefer said. “Isn’t good enough.”

“If they find you they’ll know our secrets,” Geralt said. That hurt. Jaskier would rather die. That Geralt thought Jaskier would give him up, even if they hadn’t parted as friends, stung like salt in an already gaping wound.

“Jaskier you have to come with us,” Ciri said, dragging on his hand. “Please I’ve seen so few people I know come with us.” He couldn’t resist that. He was strong but not that strong. He looked to Geralt hesitantly.

Geralt wouldn’t want him along. He was a shit shoveler and a burden who would only eat their food and make them move slower. But as Geralt had pointed out, Nilfguaard wanted him dead too. They could just kill him here and now. Geralt could have his life’s blessing, but he wouldn’t because he was a good man.

Geralt nodded. “Come,” he said in that rough rumble that Jaskier had missed.

He was coming along. But this time was going to be different. Jaskier wouldn’t be a nuisance or a burden. He wouldn’t talk too much, or get into trouble. He wouldn’t use up rations. He wouldn’t complain. Jaskier set his teeth like steel agains words falling out and nodded.

They slept that night in the forest. It was cold and winter was reaching icy tendrils towards them. Yennefer had a magical tent, but it could only sleep two. She and Ciri claimed it and Jaskier could see why. Yennefer was strong as always but her posture drooped sometimes. She was exhausted. Jaskier had heard of the battle at Sodden, and could only image. Ciri of course needed somewhere warm to sleep. Geralt and Jaskier just pitched tents on either side of the fire.

Jaskier hadn’t eaten with them that night, telling them instead that he’d eaten earlier.

He hadn’t, and his stomach burbled unhappily as he set his tent, but he hummed low so that Geralt wouldn’t hear it. Between risking annoying Geralt and using rations that the others needed, Jaskier would be annoying. It hurt to think of though.

His one man tent was little more than cloth draped between some sticks, but it could be folded up and it was light. He’d patched it so much that it looked like a quilt, but it would keep some of the rain off. He glanced at the moon, almost totally obscurred by clouds. It looked like rain.

Ciri begged for a song and a story but he told her he was too tired.

It was partially true. He hadn’t been eating well lately, preferring to drink his meals, and he’d been walking for days, but he was never too tired to perform, simply too wary of fraying Geralt’s nerves.

It did rain that night, and the pitiful tent dripped freezing water onto him, and the ground was cold and damp and he woke up soaked and shivering before dawn.

No one was up. That was rare, Geralt slept like a tree. As in, he didn’t. Half winks and meditation were most of his sleep schedule, the occasional deep sleep left him snoring and out for at least nine hours, but Jaskier had seen that perhaps a dozen times in twenty years.

Now, though, the mosring was still and the light was dim, causing grey shadows to lurk on the edge of vision, and yet somehow it wasn’t ominous. His body ached and he was cold. Not a patch on him wasn’t damp and clammy, and an acorn or a rock had dug into his back all night.

Regardless, he packed up his tent and gear, changing into some, only mildly dryer, clothes, and then he went in search of firewood.

Jaskier had to stray much farther from the camp than he would have liked to find dry wood, but he found enough to soon have a small fire crackling merrily. He’d even found some berries he recognized for breakfast. If he foraged now, he wouldn’t eat the much needed rations.

Geralt crawled out of his tent and hummed appreciatively at the fire. That felt good. Jaskier had done something right. Not a burden.

“Look at all this fog, Geralt. Like a blanket don’t you think?” Jaskier said, poking the fire into a better arrangement. “Reminds me of that time we...” He trailed off. Geralt was scowling, face like a thundercloud and eyes like lightening. Jaskier hadn’t seen that much anger on a face since...

The mountain.

Right.

And here he was prattling on right after he told himself he wouldn’t be a burden.

“Well, you remember,” he finished lamely. Did Geralt remember? The fog in the glen, when they’d crawled from their bedrolls into a morning made of clouds? If he did remember, did he remember it fondly? Jaskier had spent most of the day coming up with rhymes for fog and bugging Geralt for his opinions.

Another time he was a nuisance, probably.

Jaskier huddled in on himself, wrapping his worn traveling cloak tighter around his shoulders. The berries really hadn’t been enough, and he wondered if he should have some of the horrible traveler’s loaf from his pack. He decided to save it. If he could wait until lunch, or better yet dinner, the food would last longer. Less of a burden.

He wanted to play his lute, the sexy girl had been languishing for days now, but his fingers were too cold and stiff to play. And he’d annoy Geralt. Even worse, he might wake Ciri from her much-needed sleep.

He pulled his girl out anyway, not to play, but he carefully tended to the strings, plucking each quietly once or twice to check the tension, then he brought out his cloth and carefully waxed and polished the wood.

It wasn’t unusual for a good lute to last twenty years. But twenty years on the road through dust and mud and rain was different. Constant care and an oilskin cover were his saviors. It might not have been worth it for any other instrument, but this was Filavandrel’s lute. Somehow it seemed like the only instrument worthy of singing about the White Wolf.

He put it away.

He didn’t sing about the White Wolf much, since the mountain. He didn’t want to break his own heart again every night, and a low profile had been to his advantage.

Somehow though, it made him sad, and he thought of Professor Fredegar, the master of poetry at Oxenfurt, or he had been.

Fredegar had been an old man. He looked like he’d been made out of parchment and had somehow ingrown his clothes, like a turtle in a shell of thick woolen sweaters. He had been quiet and his hands shook, and Jaskier had liked him. He’d been kind and had wonderful stories to tell if a student came to his dusty office and sat with him a while.

There had always been something sad in the back of those pale eyes, though.

He’d been a great poet, still was, but in his prime he’d written the Saga of the Flame, a trilogy of epic poetry. The stories individually in the saga were well known about the Continent, but the whole tale...

The first part told of a young man, engaged to his blind ady love, but without money for marriage so he traveled to foreign places. Many smaller adventures were had and the first book was pretty jolly.

The second book was him seeking fame along with fortune, and forgetting his lady love for the sake of his pride, wanting someone grander than a blind village girl. Then he lost a battle of wits and was greatly humbled.

The third book found the man stumbling home, getting lost along the way. He returned to his village almost twenty years after he’d left, and his love had died, succumbing alone and uncared for to a return of the illness that had cost her her sight in her youth.

It was a true tragedy, and one that didn’t advertise itself as such until the last moment. It hooked a reader into emotions so deep they could drown. And there was a quality, something heavy in the story, that told Jaskier that at least some of it was real. He would look at Fredagar, sometimes, the way his eyes were so sad and faraway, and think about how the man had written a masterpiece and retired in barely middle age, rarely writing more than a sonnet here and there. There was a harp hung on the wall of pale wood, like that of the man in the saga, but Fredagar never touched it.

And then the man had died. He’d been one hundred and two, according to the chancellor of the university. He was buried by maybe a dozen faculty members and half as many students. And Jaskier had stood there, on that bright summer day at the graveside, and sworn that he wouldn’t live his life inside a university, to be buried and mourned by no family or friends besides some half-grateful students.

Yet, lately, it didn’t seem so bad.

He’d finished Her Sweet Kiss, and it was a true hit. He’d raised the reputation of Geralt, and witcher’s as a whole. Whatever happened, Jaskier’s name would be remembered forever. He could retire. Put Filavandrel’s lute in a glass case in a tiny office and teach ungrateful, hungover brats about meter for the rest of his life. It sounded nice, in a way. To settle down, and leave all thoughts of witchers and monsters and magic and wars behind him.

He couldn’t though. He’d been dragged into this and he’d have to see it through.

His stomach burbled unhappily and he glanced over at Geralt to see if he’d caught it. The witcher was staring at the ground, glowering like he would turn it into ash if he could.

Then he looked up and caught Jaskier’s gaze.

Jaskier was too slow to avoid pale gold irises, but looked away anyway. Geralt crossed to him from around the fire, boots crunching on leaves and frost.

Don’t break my heart again. Jaskier thought. I’m trying.

Geralt placed a hand like an anvil on Jaskier’s shoulder and he looked up.

“Ciri is glad you are here,” Geralt said. Then he continued to Yennefer’s tent to wake them up.

Ciri is glad, Jaskier could read between the lines. I will tolerate you for her sake. She is glad you are here. I am not.

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No! You dumb boy! Geralt means ‘I am very glad you are here but so is Ciri and I’m a grumpy fuck with the emotional intelligence of a mollusk!’

Anyway, here it is at last. Still gets more whumpy before it gets better.

#the witcher #geraskier #adhd Jaskier #ciri deserves two dads #and an awesome witch mom #and she'll get them #but not yet because nobody's good with their emotions

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cienie-isengardu · 3 years

Text

A bit about Jaster Mereel

Anyone who follows / visits my blog for Mandalorians most likely noticed by now I don’t talk much about Jaster Mereel, even though he is, Legends-wise, an important figure in their history. In general, I’m not a big fan of him or True Mandalorians and for sure I hate how tie-in materials glorified Jaster even though, from my perspective, he didn’t show anything that special in the main source (Jango Fett: Open Seasons).

Anyone may argue how comics is a very limited medium to present everything in great details, that the story was about Jango’s past, so it makes sense that Jaster, Montross and Tor were the supportive characters driving the plot and fulfilling important roles in Jango’s life (a mentor/father, rival/betrayer and enemy). But at the same time, even with limited space, Tor managed to lay two devastating traps (and one by using Jedi as a tool of doom, something that rarely happens, even less for Mandalorians), outmaneuvering both Jaster and Jango at some point in the story and showing good fighting & tactical skills. You don’t need to like him, you may disagree with his philosophy of life, behaviour and etc, but the comics built Tor as someone’s that leaves a strong impression based on his action that we actually could see with our own eyes while Jaster is mainly praised by tie-in materials as a great leader and some sort of reformator (what for me seems to argue with original source a lot) and sometimes, if remembered at all, by other Mandalorians. At the same time, comics didn’t show much Jaster in favorable circuments. I mean, we met him on the run from Death Watch and hiding in field crops that belonged to Fetts, then saving Jango only to almost die in fire and in the end being saved by Jango’s quick thinking. With the help of orphaned boy, he scored one victory on Concord Dawn then timeskip happened (sadly omitting the years of raising Jango) and finally Jaster led his men straight into trap, got betrayed by his own man and was killed on Korda VI. Understandable, Tor and Jaster played different roles thus comics made Vizsla the “active” character while Mereel was more “passive”.

And you know what? Even with my despiste for the biased source materials that treat Jaster as some epic character while demonizing Tor and tons of personal jokes about Jaster / True Mandalorians shared with my close friend and fellow Tor fan (and god knows, we joke about them as much as we joke about Jedi), I do think that Jaster Mereel has a great potential as character and it is a true shame his story is not exploited beyond few basic informations. I mean, a former Journeyman Protector (a man of law) joining Mandalorian Mercenaries that kill for money / personal ambitions on right and left? The term a “reformed murderer” sounds intriguing on its own and there is the whole conflict with Tor Vizsla, the uneasy(?) relationship with Montross and family bond with Jango to explore.

And the sad thing about Jaster Mereel is how, despite the cult of True Mandalorians, he is almost forgotten. I know, hoping for New Canon to bring Legends Mandalorians to life is too much to ask when Jango Fett (and Boba) is barely recognised as Mandalorian in the first place but there is some irony that right now the true Mandalorians are tightly tied to Death Watch and TCW additional materials at least mentioned that Pre’s relatives / clan members were warriors of Death Watch and there was Bounty Hunter Code with Tor Vizsla’s Manifesto.So, Tor’s existence is/was to some degree confirmed even despite the drastic changes that happened to Mandalorian lore thanks to The Clone Wars & Disney.

And yeah, BHC did mention Jaster Mereel and True Mandalorians but in all fairness? The Bounty Hunter Code was so great but wasted opportunity to flesh out Jaster, who had/lead a company actually called “HeadHunter”on Korda VI

which may suggest Mereel’s True Mandalorians also took more typical bounty hunter jobs (and seeing how both Jango and Montross went into business, it seems logical to assume they both already had some experience in this field). This in turn could nicely connect Jango’s past to the career of Bounty Hunter, as in a way to explore the time he spent with Jaster Mereel, what he learned from his mentor/father figure and would absolutely make sense for Jango to pass the book/notes to young Boba. Especially since he wanted a clone for himself to pass the Jaster’s Legacy.

I understand that the Death Watch’s Manifesto was a means to connect the old lore with changes made by TCW. Even as a non-objective source, it has its own value but frankly, including it into stricte book about bounty hunters feels a bit off. Jaster’s own notes could give the fans the same information about Mandalorian history and even about the conflict between Death Watch and New Mandalorians, as a third (less involved?) party and it would make sense for Jango to have it in the first place (as a memento because Jango was sentimental enough to keep Jaster’s stuff years after his death) and pass it to Boba who from the start was meant to carry on Jaster’s Legacy.

And yeah, sure, it was possible for Jango to get hold of a top secret Death Watch book and pass it to Boba “to know your enemy”, but I personally think that Jaster’s notes would carry more emotional impulse. And well, I’m curious about Jaster’s mindset. And I’m saying that as a fan of Tor Vizsla because frankly, the manifesto doesn’t sound much like him (or at least the impression of him built for me by comics) and even Jango shares similar doubts about the authenticity of the author. So yeah, in regard to this one source, I would rather have Jaster’s POV than one dictated for TCW for Tor.

The other wasted opportunity happened in the latest Marvel comics (what is the real reason for the rant). You know, the War of the Bounty Hunters - in one of the issues, Boba had a sidequest and worked under the name of Jango.

And I know this was supposed to be an emotional scene, a son using father’s name and canon remembering about elder Fett and so on. But the only thing I felt at that moment was how Jaster Mereel felt from grace and how it was easy to make a callback to all the older Legends sources (retcon?) of both Jango and Boba using Jaster Mereel’s name while working undercover. As you know, keeping the memory of a man supposed to mean so much to Jango and Mandalorian history - and by that allowing Boba to fulfil his own father’s desire.

Yeah, I know, I wish too much and hope is overrated anyway. It is just bizarre how the perception of Mandalorian lore changed in the last 20 years.

I never thought there would come a day to say this, but Jaster Mereel deserves better than being some idealized symbol or obscure character forgotten at every turn.

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nautiscarader · 3 years

Text

Nautiscarader’s Wendip Week day 3: Prank War

geez, this one took a while. I apologise, and let’s hope next one will arrive faster

(ao3)

============

Someone standing outside of The Mystery Shack might have thought that the living room contained a very predictable lighting bug, or at least that someone inside was broadcasting a rather boring Morse code message using light signals.

In reality, it was just Wendy and Dipper, slouched on the sofa, surfing TV channels, giving each of them at most three seconds to entertain their bored minds. So far, none of them stood up to the challenge.

But as Wendy continued the only physical activity she had the energy for, i.e. pressing one button, something finally caught their attention.

- "What's up everyone? It's your boy, the Prankster Prancer!"

A loud, obnoxious, blonde man in his twenties, wearing spiky, gelled hair rode into the shot on a fake unicorn, face-hugged the camera, filling the wide-angle lens and made both Dipper and Wendy jump in their seats as loud horn noise shook the air around them.

- Wait, I thought this guy was only on the internet! - Wendy raised her brow - Did he escape to the real world?! - Come on, who in the right mind would give him a show? - "So, first of all, thanks to our station, The Cheese Network, for giving me the chance to entertain you guys..."

Dipper and Wendy groaned in collective understanding.

- "...and for giving us some cheese to pay for our last week's prank!"

The screen dimmed and the camera changed to an aerial shot, containing not only fires and flood, but also several military helicopters.

- "So last time we did some EPIC prank during the gender reveal party and we've made a hole in the ozone hole!"

The man made extra effort to extend every vowel in the last word, to an equally obnoxious collection of sound effects.

- Wow. That looks... bad. Even by our standards. - Wendy watched the footage. - Yeah. Good thing this dude stays away from us. - "And now it's time to reveal the next place for our EPIC PRANK!"

The man took a baseball bat and unceremoniously smashed the unicorn doll in half, and stuck his hand in the fake guts, revealing an envelope.

- "And this one is a suggestion from my top commentator on-line, that girl leaves comments under every single one of my videos, so I could not ignore her request".

The envelope was opened, and suddenly, a girl's voice began reading it.

- "Dear Prankster Prancer. I love your videos, and how creative your calamity can be..." - Wait a minute - Dipper sat up, as his eyes widened in horror - Is that- - "My name is Mabel Pines, and I am staying in a small town called Gravity Falls, in Oregon...".

Dipper and Wendy looked at each other and understood each other at once.

- Barricade the doors!

But it was too late. As Dipper ran towards the lobby, the door were smashed to the ground, seemingly under the power of the air horns, and flooded the Shack with lights. The same blonde man walked inside, as if he owned the place, leading with him Mabel Pines.

- What's up birches? Is that how you call people living in the middle of a forest? - he shoved his face to the camera again. - More like, in the middle of nowhere! - Mabel added, high-five'ing him - Thankfully, me and my Prankster Protégé are gonna rock this place! - he shouted.

Dipper Pines stood up and cleaned himself from the dust and debris, watching as the two rock their heads to some aggressive tune.

- Hold on a minute! Mabel, why did you invite him here? If anything, there's too much going around in here! - Ugh, this is my little brother, Dipper. - Mabel rolled her eyes - I'm-I'm not little! - Dipper stomped in place - We're twins!

Somewhere behind him, Wendy snickered.

- What, you just look adorable when you're angry.

Dipper turned back and stormed towards his sister.

- Mabel, do you have amnesia or something? Gravity Falls is full of amazing things! We've been on treasure hunts, found all sorts of monsters in every lake, glade and a cave... You wanted to date a zombie on out first day here! - Yeah, sure, kid, as if I could just walk into a forest and find a dead body... - the Prankster took a sip of soda, looking somewhat nervously. - Mabel, we've seen living dinosaurs here! - Yeah, like I can see one now!

The Prankster pointed to the kitchen and very confused Grunkle Stan in his pajamas.

- What in the DMV is going on here? - Check this out, a living fossil!

The Prankster jumped towards Grunkle Stan and unceremoniously took a selfie with him.

- Oh no, my eyes! The light is coming towards me instead of the other way around!

Stan cried when flash of light blinded him, and with a sleigh of hand, the blonde man undid his belt, causing Stan to nearly trip and fall, if it wasn't for Wendy.

- Hey, you! You're not a prankster, you're a jerk!

At the sound of those words, the man stopped laughing and turned his attention, as well as cameras, towards Wendy.

- What's that? We've got ourselves a HATER!

An air horn was about to blow her hat off, but Wendy swiftly grabbed it and twisted it.

- Yeah, that's what I've said, you're a jerk. I like pranking people, but not to hurt them. - And watchu gonna do, leave a mean comment? - No, we're gonna prank you. - Wendy reached and brought Dipper towards her. - Cos we've done some pranking together ourselves! - Like what? - Like... when we've made our friend think his inflatable tube could talk!

The Prankster shot them with a dead stare.

- You know what, I don't even have time to play the "wah-wah" soundbite. But if you want to lose, your call. Tomorrow, we're gonna get an EPIC PRANK-OFF!

And he shot a pose in front of the camera.

- Right, now tell me where's someplace to eat. And they better have unlimited refills. - Lazy Susan is neat. And there's water tower nearby...

And with that, he and Mabel walked off, leaving the small destruction behind them.

- Wendy! - Dipper turned at once towards her - Are you crazy? He has entire film crew! And money! And very little empathy! He's gonna plough through us! - Chill out, man, we're gonna trick him, one way or another.

And she gently smacked the edge of his hat.

- Er, I know you guys like to babble all the time, but I still can't get up. - Grunkle Stan grumbled from the floor.

=============

The next day, Wendy woke up at the break of dawn with unbridled optimism. Dipper less so, and he was a bit nervous when Wendy gathered him and her crew in the small lumberjack shack in the woods to explain the plan of action.

- So, any questions? - she asked

At the same time, every teenager in the small room raised hands.

- So, how does exactly the can of whipped cream is supposed to work with the rake? - Tambry asked - And what do we have to do with the rat-shaped balloons? - Thompson asked shyly. - And can't we just... punch him? - Robbie suggested, mimicking the action. - Ugh, you guys!

Wendy groaned and hid her face in her hands. hearing the murmurs of doubt across the room, Dipper quickly stood up and continued.

- Guys, this jerk is giving us, pranksters, a bad name! We gotta prank him in a way that shows we are better... Because we can do better!

He watched as faces of the older teenagers brighten with his speech. Several of them even smiled.

- Plus he could, like, sue us for millions of dollars, so we gotta stay clean.

With newly gained optimism, the gang rushed to Thompson's van and readied themselves for the prank.

- Thanks, man, for giving me a hand. - Wendy suddenly patted Dipper's back. - Oh, no-no problem. - Dipper spoke, wondering if she noticed his blush.

=========

- Alright, we're all in places.

Wendy spoke to her phone, and observed the places, leaning from behind the wall. Her eyes moved from Robbie, hidden in the abandoned ice-cream stall, to Thompson, on top of a tree, to Tambry, pretending to read a large newspaper, and finally, to Dipper, holding a bag of provisions.

- We-Wendy, I'm not sure if this is gonna work. - Now!

She commanded, as Prankster walked nonchalantly out of the store. He thre away the half-eaten sandwich he just bought and was about to walk into the string that would have activate the whipped cream... if he didn't make a sudden jump.

He then threw something into the stall.

- Oh, crap, it's a grenade!

Robbie stormed out, tripping on the same wire he helped setting up, which resulted in his black hair covered in white goo and sprinkles.

Tambry was supposed attack next, but Prankester was already next to her. He took a bucket of soapy water and dumped it over her, destroying her diguise that covered her pruple hair.

For Thompson, he didn't even have to do much - he threw a mouse toy into the air, and listened how the boy tumbles down, shrieking.

And finally, he took something big and colourful out of his backpack and tossed it onto the street, watching as Dipper and Wendy rush towards it.

- Limited edition Giraffeoala!

They realised the two were after it when it was too late. Their heads collided with each other, just as the elusive plushie was yanked from their hands, back into his bag.

- Seriously, guys? You wanted to outsmart me? There like five of you and you couldn't do it. - Ha! That was a good one! - Mabel emerged from behind his back and did another high-five. - But I couldn't do it without you. - he pointed at her. - Me? But I didn't do anything... - Of course you did.

The Prankster lowered his sunglasses.

- Last evening at that stupid bar. You told me you were friends with everyone here. You told me how one of them likes gloomy, dark places. Like another one is afraid of mice. Like another one never looks away from her phone...

Mabel's ecstatic, radiant smile faded with each word the Prankster spoke, and her eyes, widened from excitation began to fill with tears.

- And, well, you told me what these two dorks are obsessed about... amongst other things. - Mabel! - Wendy and Dipper cried at the same time. - But-But I didn't... - Aw, really? You feel sad for them? LAME. - he pushed her aside and waved for his crew that followed him anyway.

For quite a while, all the small town could hear was Mabel Pines sobbing, until someone closed his arms around her.

- There, there, sis. - Dipper spoke quietly. - I guess you see why were so angry now. - I-I didn't know he would...

Dipper hugged her, letting her cry as much as she wants into his vest.

- It's not your fault, Mabel. - Wendy added, taking a knee and gently patting her. - But-But it is! - Well... Kinda... - Robbie added, and received a cold, piercing stare from Wendy. - Jerks like that like to... use people. And they know that the best ones are those, who are most trusting and kind.

Mabel's sniffing stopped, as Wendy continued.

- But you know what? - Dipper spoke suddenly - I think I got an idea...

He let go of his sister rushed to the Prankster, sitting on one of the toy unicorns, tossing quarter after quarter, while two children in queue began to tear up.

- Hey, you! - Ugh, you again, twerp. What, want me to reveal more secrets about you and your stupid hobbies? Or, like, who is your biggest crush after a toy plushie from the 90s?

Dipper's face reddened, but he remained unperturbed.

- We're not done yet. Tomorrow we're gonna prank you for good. Double or nothing! - Ugh, sure, fine. - the Prankster didn't even look at him - It's not like I can do anything until my lawyers clean up the whole "gender reveal party" fiasco. Like, who cares if the whole state is now inhabitable for life?

==============

By the next morning, the battleground was set. Cameras and tons of equipment surrounded the small grassy meadow in front of the Mystery Shack, where Dipper and Wendy were sitting in their chairs with their arms crossed, both wearing much more confident smiles. And the fact that Mabel was with them added them extra layer of morale.

When the clock struck 12, a mighty roar shook the place, as monster truck drove from behind the tree line, smoking and setting nearby branches on fire. The Prankster Prancer jumped out of it, and, drowned in the flashes of cameras, walked into his place.

- So, are you twerps ready for the FINAL PRANK OF YOUR LIFE? - he roared into the microphone, rolling his tongue back and forth as if he was about to eat it. - Nah, we're not gonna prank you. - Wendy shrugged - But someone else will.

The newly reinstalled door to the Mystery Shack opened, and a new figure appeared. An elderly woman walked out, being led by Grunkle Stan that gallantly helped her, for once not sneaking his hand into her purse.

And when she looked up from behind her glasses, the confident smile on Prancer's face disappeared at once.

- Grandma?! What-What are you doing here?! - Oh, don't you know? - Grunkle Stan rushed with explanation - We, old folks, all know each other. And I simply couldn't let her miss her grandson's grand day! - I'm so glad I can see you, Archibald!

The elderly lady used her cane to hook him by his neck and brought him into his arms, despite his best efforts to avoid any interactions.

- G-Grandma, don't- don't call me that! - Why not? - she continued, seemingly ignoring her grandson efforts to escape her tight hug. - I am your grandma, and I will call you by your full name, Archibald Roderick Sebastian Eugene!

Somewhere behind them, Dipper, Wendy and Mabel were having the time of their life, trying to hide their laughter.

- So, wait, his initials literally make him an... - Grandma! Make them stop! They-they are laughing at me! - Nonsense! Those young folks told me all your fans would love to see me talk about you. So I've send them some photos via the eclectic mail!

The blonde man looked to the side at Wendy and Dipper's faces. Their wide smiles told him everything, and in the act of ultimate desperation, he gently shook his head, silently mouthing his plea. He then looked at Mabel's, but hers was filled with spite.

In response, Mabel simply pressed a button.

The enormous screen behind them lit up, showing an adorable newborn blonde boy in diaper, giggling at the baby rattle.

Several more followed, showing his equally naked body in progressively embarrassing positions.

The screen changed, and the same boy was now three-years old, wearing a strict haircut as well as a bowtie. And the worst part was, he looked happy.

The Prankster Prancer fell to his knees, as tears began rolling from his eyes, which his grandma quickly dried with her handkerchief.

- Oh, yes, I do tear up a little at this one too. Oh, but the next one makes me so proud!

Prancer's eyes widen, if possibly even more, and throwing away all the pretence, he rushed to Wendy and Dipper and began begging them for mercy. But it was for nothing. He knew they have seen the photo already.

And with another press of a button, a seven-year old Prancer was shown, wearing a blue cardigan, sitting in an armchair with a big book in his hands, smiling at the camera, proudly showing his braces.

The scanned photo displayed a title, written in crayon over it.

"I love school!"

Flocks of birds flew into the air from the nearby trees in response to the shriek that reverberated the air, full of remorse, despair, and unmistakably, defeat.

- Nooooo!

The Prancer hit the ground with his fists, for which he was quickly reprimanded by his grandma ("You're going to make them dirty!"), while Wendy and Dipper high-fived each other, before giving Mabel a warm hug.

=============

- So I guess that will teach him? - Dipper asked Wendy as the two lay on the sofa, flicking through the channels again. - Pfh. I wish it did. - Wendy reached for her phone and showed Dipper a familiar blonde man waving his arms uncontrollably. - "What's up Prankster Pros? It's ya boy, and I've got this sweet book deal full of my MOST EMBARASSING photos! Look at that baby bottom! Only for $99.99..." - Geez, I guess they never learn. - Nope. But at least he's not here...

For a while the room dimmed every few seconds, as Wendy searched for anything interesting, but something else was on Dipper's mind.

- So... about those Cuddle Buddies...

The remote fell out of Wendy's hand.

- Uh, yeah, so, I just...

She shied away and mumbled her answer, until she saw a polite smile on Dipper's face.

- So, like, remember ever since you wanted to win that Duck Panda for me? I... kinda got into them, you know. Not like, obsessively collecting them, but... you know. - Yeah, I do. For cuddling.

The two looked at each other and exchanged the same, warm smiles.

- So which generation you like the most? - Well, gen 2 obviously - she rolled her eyes - What? Five is the best. - The best as sucking, perhaps. - Come on, they had changed the lead designer and everything, but they're still Cuddle Buddies...

For quite a while, the channel stayed on, as neither of them bother to change it. And when the night fell on, Wendy and Dipper realised that they might have discovered something new to talk about.

#nautiscaraderfics #wendipweek #wendip week #wendip #wendy corduroy #dipper pines #gravity falls #prank war

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auspicious-lilana · 4 years

Text

Two Cats, One Heart (Chat Noir x reader)

Summary: Y/n Ross and Adrian Agreste are childhood best friends, they’ve been through thick and thin, including losing their mom, and dad. Since then Y/n’s mom made her live with Adrian at his mansion and forever leaving her life. Watch as their lives Change as they become the new heroes of Paris alongside Ladybug and see how Romance sprouts between the two models.

Warnings: It’s a bit long hehe?

"And now I'm pretty sure Chat doesn't like me the same way I like him." I finished explaining everything to him.

Adrian and I were sitting on my couch, Alpha in the coffee table in front of us munching away his brownies.

"What makes you think that?" Adrian asked.

"For one, besides the usual flirt banters, He didn't show anything that could give me a hint that he likes me back."

"I think he does like you."

"How do you know?" Adrian seemed a bit stuck, looking around for an answer.

"Since you've been pretty honest with your secret, I guess I can't keep mine without feeling guilty." Adrian sighed.

"What secret?" I got more confused as he took out a piece of cheese. "Wait, is that what you kept reeking of?"

"Yes, It's the only thing he eats, every single time." I got more confused.

"Who's he?"

"How much longer are you going to play dumb?" Alpha asked while chewing as I cringed. "He means his kawami, Plagg."

"First of all, Don't talk while you eat. I thought I told you that a hundred times Alpha." I scolded before turning to Adrian before it dawned on me as I saw a little black cat attached to the cheese in his hand. "If you have a kawami then it'd mean you're..."

"Yes," Adrian nodded. "I'm Chat Noir." I felt myself blushing, realizing I had just rambled about my crush on Chat Noir...to Chat Noir!?

"You...I...Wait, that explains why you're always going near my locations to change back." I remembered. "Who knew,"

"I thought you were planning to try and sneak a peek at my identity." Adrian chuckled. "But you were just trying to get home too."

"So...When you said Chat Noir likes me back..." I looked to my side, trying to hide my blush.

"Yes, I meant I liked you too, a lot."

"Hey, Plagg. I got a little spot I hide whenever these two get all lovey-dovey, wanna eat there?" Alpha offered, noticing Plagg's disgust.

"Don't have to ask me twice." The two kawami's made their way out as Adrian and I rolled our eyes.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Well, this is normally the part where we umm, we...kiss." We inched closer to each other as he grabbed my arm to lead me closer to his face, I looked to admire his features, fluttering my eyes shut as we touched lips.

"This counts as us now Girlfriend and Boyfriend, right?" I whispered.

"Of course."

***

"Agent Smith, It's too dangerous! We must evacuate!" Adrian exclaimed as he and Mylène were crouching behind the teacher's desk, water guns in hand.

Our class was filming a movie for a project and Adrian and Mylène were the voted leads. I was going to be the lead girl but I wanted to work behind the scenes, so I play the role of the Assistant Director, while also Mylène's understudy if anything were to happen.

"You're suggesting we run, Officer Jones?" Mylène asked with a determined look. "After it devoured my family, my friends, and even my beloved dog, Sniffles?" She dramatically stood up. "Never! I won't run! I no longer fear it, I'm going to face it, then I'll-" Ivan loomed over as scripted with a monster mask, roaring as best as he could as Mylène broke character and screamed in fear, hiding under the table as Adrian and I looked at her worried.

"Sorry, Mylène." Ivan apologized, taking the mask off.

"Mylène! That's like, the tenth take." Nino scolded, frustrated as he rubbed his forehead. "And we're only on the first scene!"

"Fourteenth actually." Alix corrected, holding up a count from her seat in the back. "But who's counting."

"Ughh..."

"I'm...sorry." Mylène apologized, getting out from under. "I'm gonna do better on the next take, I promise." Juleka was reapplying blush, fixing Adrian's look.

"Anyone want some tea?" Rose offered, holding a portable kettle.

"You're playing a hero from the special forces. You're not supposed to get all freaked out!" Nino lectured.

"I know, but...that monster mask he's wearing is so...realistic and scary!"

"Just big ol' me, Mylène." Ivan stuck his fingers through the eyes of the mask, show how harmless it was. "Nothing to be scared of."

"You ask me, he doesn't even need a mask," Chloé said, laughing with Sabrine as I frowned at her.

"Does it hurt you to be a little bit nicer, Chloé?" I asked.

"Ivan, put the mask back on, you're playing the monster!" Nino demanded. "And Mylène, we need you to stay in character!" Ivan put the mask back on, causing Mylène to get scared.

"I need to sing my happy song, it always makes me feel better." Mylène took a deep breath as she began singing to herself, slowly stepping back. "Smelly Wolf, Smelly wolf." I felt Alpha scoff from my pocket, muttering his offense at her song. "stinky breath and slimy--" She bumped into Adrian, suddenly jumping back, shrieking in fear.

"And the Oscar for the best pathetic scaredy-cat afraid of its own shadow goes to...Mylène!" Chloé laughed, making Mylène feel worse as Adrian looked at her, disappointed.

"Chloé, seriously?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah, so what?" Mylène ran out of the classroom, crying.

"Mylène!" Marinette shouted. "Anyone gonna go after her?" Ivan ran after Mylène, calling out her name as he took the mask off.

"Epic, Chloé! Just Epic!" Nino sarcastically exclaimed. "What are we supposed to do now without our leading actress?"

"Who needs her, anyway?" Chloé scoffed. "She was totally lame!"

"You're lame!" Ivan shouted, coming back in. "Mylène is crying her eyes out on the bathroom thanks to you!"

"Me, Lame?"

"Hey, Hey!" I came in. "Fighting over this isn't going to get this film done any quicker, We'll find a way to get this done by tonight!"

"As a producer, I'll make sure of it too!" Marinette agreed.

"The Deadline for the Parisian Student Short Film Festival is tomorrow evening, precisely 26 hours, 15 minutes and 14, 13 seconds from now." Max clarified.

"Thank you, Max." I smiled.

"And we still have editing, post-sound, soundtrack..." Marinette listed.

"And who's gonna take Mylène's part?" Adrian asked.

"Um, me of course!" Chloé got up from her seat.

"You haven't even read the script!" Alya argued.

"Of course I have! The first scene anyway, I can even tell you that it ends with a kiss between Agent Smith and Officer Jones!" Chloé batted her eyes at Adrian as he pleadingly looked over at me as I moved next to Nino.

"As Mylène's understudy, I'm the one who's supposed to take her place if anything were to happen. Remember?" I reminded Nino.

"Right." Nino nodded as Marinette screaming, looking at Alya.

"You wrote that?!" She shrieked.

"Hold up!" Alya exclaimed skimming through her script again. "I didn't write that!"

"Uh...I wrote that." Nino admitted. "It was just a little tweak. You know, to move the story forward."

"What! You edited my script without even telling me!" Alya gripped onto the collar of Nino's shirt. "That's low."

"Wait a minute! You mean our script!" Nino argued, removing her hands as Adrian and I sighed before Rose came up to us.

"Juice?" We gratefully took a cup.

"Thanks, Rose." Adrian thanked.

"Guys, it doesn't matter who did anything, we have a film to get done by tonight." I reasoned.

"she's right," Max said. "Principal Damocles is only allowing us to use the school until 6 p.m. sharp. Which leaves us 9 hours, 12 minutes, and 12 seconds. 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6..."

"Adrian and Y/n kissing cannot happen! No way!" Marinette hissed at Alya quietly, as so nobody could hear.

"It makes no sense story-wise anyway." Alya shrugged. "The main character's emotional journey-"

"Hold on!" Marinette ran over to Adrian. "We can't let Mylène just leave just like that! It's...wrong! We all chose her to play the leading female role! And...we're all in this movie together! She needs our support. I'm gonna go find her and bring her back."

"Always trying to save the day, aren't you, Marinette?" Chloé mocked.

"Wait," I said, holding her arm. "I'll go, you're the producer, you're needed here." I left before she could say anything more, missing the satisfied look on her face.

{Third POV}

"Nice going, Miss Producer." Nino sarcastically remarked. "Now we have no lead again!"

"Yeah, but now we'll be able to go look for our real lead!" She argued, hiding her intentions of just wanting to keep Adrian kissing Y/n out of jealousy.

"I told you. Tick tock, there's no time! We need a lead now!"

"Marinette can do it!" Alya exclaimed as Adrian got uncomfortable at the thought of kissing a different girl.

"What?! No! I can't act. I'm... the producer." Marinette started furiously blushing.

"But you wanna kiss Adrien, don't you?" Alya whispered to her as Marinette glanced at Adrian who mentally hoped Y/n can get back in time.

{Y/n's POV}

"Mylène!" I called out as I entered the Bathroom. "Mylène?!" I looked to see nobody was there, missing the monster feet in one of the stalls as I noticed the mirror was covered in some sort of slime.

"Wow," Alpha gasped, peeking out from my pocket to take a look. "I knew you girls were disgusting in terms of love, but I didn't think you guys were that disgust- hey!" I glared at the little wolf, shoving him back in my pocket with a finger.

"She isn't here." I noticed, "Didn't Ivan said she'd be in the bathroom? This is the only girl's bathroom in this half of the school, she should be here."

"I think that slime might have something to do with this."

"I can't find her on my own, I'll have to get the others to help look for her. I have a feeling crying wasn't the only thing she was doing in here."

"Wow, the best idea ever!" Alpha sarcastically praised. "Not like it was the only choice you had!" I shoved him back down my pocket as I had an eerie feeling as I ran back to the classroom.

"Guys!" I shouted, seeming to have boast through the door right before Marinette could kiss Adrian, who was trying to prolong the kiss as long as he could, relieved at my interruption as Nino shouted Cut. "Mylène isn't in the bathroom, we need to find her. I think something might be going on- wait, Where's Max and Kim?" Right as I asked, we heard two screams. "Did you all hear that?"

"Loud and clear." Adrian nodded.

"We better scope this out," Marinette said as everyone ran to the source of the scream.

"A fruity snack for the road?" Rose offered.

Nino began recording them, following me as I noticed something on the floor.

"Hey! Anybody here?" Adrian shouted. "Kim! Max! Where are you guys?!"

"Wait, I felt like I saw the same pink goo...the bathroom!" It finally clicked as Adrian came up to me, picking up the armband covered in goo.

"That's Kim's!" He exclaimed.

"They vanished!" Nathaniel began panicking.

"Or they're playing a sick joke on us." Alya scoffed.

"We should go to Principal Damocles's office and tell him what's going on!" Marinette declared, She then noticed Nino was filming everything. "Nino, come on! Stop Filming!"

"Not a chance! This is just getting good!" I took the chance to slip away from the class quietly.

{Third POV}

Adrian had tried to slip away with Y/n but soon got caught by his best friend.

"Yo, Adrian!" Nino called out.

"I left Officer Jone's jacket back there!" He quickly came with an excuse. "Should probably wear it in all the scenes." Nino nodded as the rest of the students went upstairs, Adrian already running back into the empty classroom which Y/n had already snuck into the other way.

Neither noticing the Horrificator Akuma, a slimy monster start gooing the entire school roof, doors, and windows to keep them shut-in.

"This is the first time transforming with another person in the room." Y/n admitted, feeling a bit nervous and awkward for some reason.

"Then we better get used to it." Adrian winked.

"Hey, your Chat side is already showing!" Y/n pointed out as Alpha and Plagg came out from their pockets.

"Y/n, Darling." Alpha calmly called out. "I never ask you to hurry up and transform, it isn't me. but right now, I'm begging you to just transform. I can't stand this lovey scene." Y/n scoffed.

"So um," Adrian awkwardly shifted before he took off his right shoe. "Guess we should first make them think we've vanished."

"Good idea." Y/n nodded her head, reaching to take off her hairpin, throwing it to make it seem like she was struggling as it came off, Adrian doing the same after showing Plagg his shoe, making the small black cat cringe.

"You say I stink of Camembert," Plagg said.

"I mean, you both do." Y/n pointed out as Adrian gave her a look before sighing.

"Plagg, claws out!"

"Alpha, Tails out!"

***

The rest of the students were going into the Principal's office, looking inside to see pink goo around.

"Even Mr.Damocles isn't around," Rose said, worried as Marinette stood outside the door, making sure nobody was looking back before she took out her phone, dropping it on the floor as she ran into the library.

"Time to transform." She quickly said to her little kawami, Tikki. "Tikki, Spots on!"

***

"Anyone seen Agent Smith- I mean Y/n?" Nino asked. "And Marinette too?" They ran out of the office, Alya stopped to see her phone on the floor.

"Oh no," Alya gasped. "This is Marinette's phone."

They soon walked around the entire school, checking the ceiling, windows, doors, to see a pink goo covering them shut.

"We're trapped!" Chloé exclaimed before taking out her phone. "I'm going to call Daddy!"

"Dudes, you know cellphones never work in horror movies." Nino reminded, still filming everything.

"No bars..." Ivan said, checking his phone.

"No coverage!" Nathaniel sadly said along.

"Told you so!" Nino got excited. "Boo-yah!"

"Is everything okay?" Ladybug asked, appearing at the door.

"Ladybug in my movie? This is legit!"

"And on my Ladyblog!" Alya started filming too.

"We've got to calmly evacuate the building, okay everyone?" Ladybug ordered. "

"Easier said than done, Ladybug," Chat said as he and Lady Wolf came jumping down, landing next to Ladybug.

"The place is covered in pink goo, nothing can come in or out." Lady Wolf added.

"Triple Legit!" Nino exclaimed.

"Lady Wolf in the flesh!" Maya grinned, taking her phone out. "This I can't miss, my viewers are gonna eat this up."

"We tried to cut through the goo, but it's no good." Chat Noir explained. "Totally indestructible. So looks like we're trapped inside the school for now. Just stay put and try to relax, guys."

{Y/n's POV}

"Let's talk for a bit," I suggested as Chat and I led Ladybug to the corner of the office, out of the student's sound range.

"We know that Hawkmoth's taken another innocent victim somewhere in this school." Chat said.

"And there's only one way to get rid of the goo and get everyone out of here," Ladybug added.

"And that's to capture the Akuma like always,"

"Exactly." Chat flirtatiously grinned at me. "I love it when you read my mind."

"Ugh," Ladybug playfully groaned, already used to the usual flirty banters of her partners. "But we better find this thing first, and it's prisoners." Before they could say another word, they soon had Nino right behind them, filming them.

"Don't mind me." Nino quickly said. "finding the missing peeps and solving this crazy mystery with Chat Noir, Ladybug, and Lady Wolf...This movie's gonna be so swank!"

"Stay together, right behind us." Ladybug said, walking away before grabbing Nino's arm, pulling him towards her. "Means you too, Spielberg."

***

We were following the trail of pink goo, not noticing Sabrina and Chloé leave their group, running off to hide elsewhere.

We entered the classroom Adrian and I had transformed in, Ladybug noticing Adrian's shoe and my hairpin.

"There!" She exclaimed, picking it up.

"Anyone recognize this shoe and pin?" Chat asked, playing dumb.

"That's Adrian's shoe," Nino exclaimed.

"And that's Y/n's pin, she never goes anywhere without it!" Maya pitched in.

"That's weird." Ladybug said. "There's no pink slime here."

"Yes, there is." Nathaniel pointed out the slime on the desk, kneeling before he got grabbed by a slimy tentacle.

The other students started to step in fear as Nathaniel started panicking. Juleka being the only one who was more awed by the slimy monster than scared.

"Everybody run!" Ladybug shouted as they all ran out of the room, Nino remaining by Chat's side to record and Juleka staying put near the door, admiring the monster which grew larger.

"Awesome." Juleka grinned, the monster roared at Juleka as she seemed a bit taken back before grinning. "So Awesome." I noticed the height difference, it's power. He shrunk when Jeluka wasn't scared?

It spits goo at Juleka but I quickly grabbed her arm and took her out of the classroom before it could touch her.

"Eww!" Chat exclaimed. "What's your name, Drool-lator?" The monster spits goo at him but he spins his staff to avoid any touching him before swinging his staff to remove the slime. "Cats aren't afraid of slimy toads like you."

"We better hurry and find our where that Akuma is hiding!" I exclaimed.

"I don't see anything," Chat exclaimed as they dodged a slime, jumping down the stairs as the students hid in the corner, watching them. "Just miles of slime!" The monster looked at the fear in the kids, growing in size, confirming my suspicions thoughts.

"Fear!" I suddenly shouted, catching Ladybug and Chat's attention. "It grows from fear!" Ladybug ducked tying a yoyo around its leg to a pole as Chat tried to land a hit before he got slimed into the wall, I gasped, going in from behind before getting caught to the wall as well.

The monster then grabbed the yoyo string, pulling in Ladybug before sliming her onto the basketball hoop.

The monster turned and grew as everyone screamed, it approached the class, recognizing Ivan, affectionately licking, grabbing Nathanial (who was released during the fight) and Alix, jumping away.

"Oh no! It took Nath and Alix!" Rose exclaimed. (A/n: No way! what a shock! Not like we just witnessed it happening.)

They soon managed to get out the slime, running to a door to see it was slimed shut.

"Did you see how it only left Ivan alone?" Ladybug mentioned.

"Yeah," Chat agreed. "What's that all about?" I thought about it before remembering what happened earlier, the goo in the bathroom, Mylène's long disappearance.

"The monster has to be Mylène!" I exclaimed. "She was the first to disappear...from what I heard..." I quickly covered up.

"Where are Sabrina and Chloé?" Alya asked, running up to the teen heroes with the small group of students behind her, Nino still recording.

"We'll find them, don't worry." Ladybug reassured. "If we can find a way out of here..." They soon heard Chloé's screams and ran up the stairs, pushing through the doors as something seemed to have been blocking the front of, they looked around to see nothing but a trail of slime.

"We're too late!" Chat exclaimed.

"But look!" I said, pointing to the trail. "We can still follow it!" I lead the group as we were led to a dark workshop.

"I'm so amped!" Nino exclaimed, recording as I was about to open the door before we turned to Nino with a frown.

"Turn your amp down to about 4, will ya?" Chat asked.

"My bad...." Nino sheepishly chuckled as we stood on our guard, slowly opening the door, walking into the cellar, looking at the large blobs of slime.

"Anybody in here?" Ladybug asked, her voice ringing in the room.

"Ladybug, it's me, Chloé Bourgeois!" Chloé cried out.

"Don't worry! We'll get you out!"

"Well, hurry it up!"

"Is everybody here?!" Ladybug, Chat, and I went around, trying to get a count of everyone. "Mr.Damocles."

"Present!"

"Alix?"

"Yeah!"

"Nathanial?"

"Here!"

"Adrian?!" Ladybug started to panic at the silence as Chat froze, "ADRAIN?!" Chat quickly hid behind a goo pod.

"Yeah, Yeah, I'm fine!" He exclaimed. "What about uh Y/n?" I glared at Chat for mentioning my name for everything.

"Y/n?" Ladybug repeated, I hid behind a corner.

"Oh um! I'm here too!" I quickly shouted. "How about Marinette?"

"Yeah! Yeah! We got everyone!" Ladybug exclaimed, tugging on the Goo Pods. "Ugh! they won't budge!"

"Get us out!"

"I can't stay here!"

"Help!"

"Everyone! Try to calm down!" I shouted before a giant slime went past us, covering the door we came in from, the monster jumping down in front of us.

"Okay, now this is getting scary." Ladybug admitted.

Chat distracted it throwing pieces of the goo at it as it tried to attack him, giving Ladybug time to use her powers.

"Lucky Charm!" Guitar strings dropped to her hands. "Guitar strings? Are you kidding me?"

"How would...Mylene's song...." I exclaimed. "Ever heard of Smelly wolf?" I asked Ladybug as she nodded, catching on. While Ladybug used her vision to gather the things needed to make temporary instruments, Chat used his powers to the bars rusted and trap the monster in its place.

"Okay, we're all going to sing!" Ladybug announced, strumming her fingers to the strings attached to a broom and bucket.

"Sing?" Chat asked, jumping down to us. "That's your plan?"

"The only way to get through this to get your fear under control. You all know Smelly Wolf, don't you?"

"Seriously? Smelly Wolf?"

"Care to join us?" I asked, blowing into a pipe to warm up a tune. Chat grinned, making a drum set out of pots and trashcan lids.

They began singing to the monster, their fears slowly going away as the monster shrunk shorter and shorter before it turned cute bite-size, no longer terrifying.

They all walked up to it as it looked up at the students, jumping into Ivan's arms.

"That's the same button I gave to Mylène!" Ivan gasped.

"That's where the Akuma is!" Ladybug exclaimed, taking the pin as she did her thing, breaking the pin. " No more evil-doing for you, little Akuma. Time to de-evilize!" She let it go as it turned into a pretty white butterfly. "Bye-bye, little butterfly." She threw the strings to the air. "Miraculous Ladybug!"

The energy from her power goes around, getting rid of the slime and shifting everything back to normal as the monster turned back into Mylène.

"Pound it!" the three of us exclaimed, fist-bumping before deadpanning as Nino, who surprisingly still was recording came up to us.

"Awesome." He muttered.

***

The movie playing ended with Mylène and Ivan kiss as Nino wore a confident grin, sure he had it in the bag.

"Well, Mr. Mayor. What do you think?"

*** {Third POV} ***

"We didn't make the cut!" Nino complained to the rest. "He said the monster was a horrible replica! Completely unbelievable! No joke!"

"Don't worry, Bud." Adrian placed the hand he wasn't holding Y/n's hand on his shoulder. "This is how all good movie directors start out."

"Learn from mistakes right?" I pitched in.

"Yeah, even if that final wasn't quite what we thought it would be." Alya said, giving Marinette a side glance, the girl was too distracted at looking horrifedly at the intertwined hands of the two models.

"H-hey, anything going on between you two?" Marinette nervously laughed.

"Yeah." Alya thought about the day. "You two have been awfully closer lately."

"We're uh.. Dating?" Adrian got flustered, looking away with a shy smile, neither noticing the heartbroken look on Marinette

"No. Way. Since when?!"

"Around a week ago?" Y/n thought about it.

"I have to go." Marinette ran off, Alya following after.

"I wonder where they're going in a rush?"

"Who knows." Nino shrugged. "But dude, why didn't you tell me? I thought were best buds?"

"It didn't come up."

"What got you to suddenly into each other?" the two looked at each other, chuckling.

"It's a long story,"

Leave some feedback! Have a nice night!/Day/Evening!