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justmywritingstuff · 16 days

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Speechless Changes~Number 6 (part 1)

Summary:

When you always have done whatever it takes to get your goals, it's very hard to change or surprise people--even harder to leave them speechless.

In other words, the six firsts of Shadybug and Claw Noir's relationship that left someone speechless.

AO3

Warnings: language, heavily implied abuse

Word Count: 13k+

Author's notes: Hello friends! Yes, I'm alive. I'm sorry for the delay, I messed up my wrist and shoulder in a car accident and the pain killers (and you know, my wrist) made it really hard to work on this series. This is a two part chapter, so the second part will come out soon. And this is the end of the series, there might be a sequel in the future, I haven't decided yet. This is a bit of a heavy chapter, so be prepared for that. As always, a line break means a change in POV, enjoy!

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It’s a good day for Marinette, one of the best she’s had in awhile.

She had aced a test in school, watched Chloe fall face first into a muddy puddle, Alya called her her best friend, and she’s currently beating the hell out of some girl in a magic ox costume with her lucky charm—it’s an umbrella—while Claw is trying to get her Miraculous. It’s a weird life, but sometimes it’s a damn good one.

The ox girl finally seems to fall back from the numerous hits, much to Shady’s displeasure—she was just starting to get into it.

Shady and Claw stand by her to make sure she stays down, Claw groans in annoyance and pulls out his staff to call someone.

She can’t help but ogle him as he does so, she loves this guy more than anything and he’s much more than a pretty face—but damn, she’s the first to admit he’s definitely a hot piece of ass, especially in the leather. She’s having a good day, but what would make it a fucking great day is the opportunity to drool over her attractive partner and get her daily dose of affection from those sinful lips of his.

The ox girl tries to get up, breaking Shady from her daydreaming. Shady sighs and hits her with the umbrella again, dazing her. Frankly, she’s amazed at how many hits to the head this girl can take and the fact that the umbrella hasn’t broken yet.

“Hello?” She hears Betterfly’s voice coming from Claw’s staff.

“Where the hell is this lady’s miraculous?” Claw asks, exasperated.

“What lady? Oh no, are you two fighting another holder?”

“Yeah, ox girl.”

“Ox? That’s one of the Supreme’s favorites! Are you two alright? I’ll send reinforcements right—”

“Hell no, we’ve already got it handled. Where’s the miraculous? This girl’s covered in fucking jewelry.”

“Oh um nose ring, I believe?”

“Great. Hang on, you’ll get it in a sec.”

Claw leans down to the semi-unconscious ox girl and grabs the nose ring, handing it over to Shady as the girl returns to normal. Shady puts it into her yo-yo to send it to Betterfly.

The girl groans loudly.

“What was that?” Betterfly asks accusingly from Claw’s staff.

“That’s the ox.” Claw says. “I told you, we got it.”

“…Shadybug used her Lucky Charm as a weapon again, didn’t she?”

Claw sends Shady a look. “Uh no?”

Betterfly sighs, and she can practically hear him rubbing his forehead tiredly. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Claw hangs up his staff and Shady sighs, knowing that tomorrow probably holds another long lecture about violence from Betterfly.

“Did you have to beat her with the fucking umbrella?” Claw says.

Shady shrugs and sends him a smirk. “She slapped your ass and made you uncomfortable. You would have done the same fucking thing if it was me instead.”

“…Fair point.”

She tosses her umbrella up in the air and does her miraculous cure. After all the usual things, damage is fixed, the girl thanks them for curing her disease but has a terrible headache, etc., Shady grabs Claw and leads him into a nearby tight alleyway to get them both away from any prying eyes as her miraculous beeps.

The alley is small, small enough that standing in it with backs to the walls would leave two people only a few feet apart. With how close the two of them choose to stand where they can feel the other’s breath on their face, though, it almost looks like the alley way is wide, but they just don’t understand personal space.

“You know Mothra’s gonna give you shit for today, cockroach.” Claw says with a smile as he plays with a loose strand of her hair.

“Yeah,” She answers, “but that’s tomorrow me’s problem.”

And she really believes that, she’s having a really good day today, so lectures and worrying about if solving problems with violence is becoming of a hero can be dealt with on another day.

“You’re in a good mood, Bug-a-babe.” Claw says teasingly. “I almost don’t recognize you without that pouty scowl on your face.”

She playfully punches him as her miraculous beeps again, signaling it’s final warning.

He grins and blinks like he’s realizing something.

“Something’s…different.” He says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, fleabag.” She answers.

“Your suit.” He slowly brings his fingers down the side of her body and her breath catches. “I don’t know, it just looks…different somehow.”

“Oh? How?”

“Can’t put my finger on it, but it’s fucking distracting.”

She hums and leans in close, pressing her body against his as his gloved claws find their way to her hips.

“Distracting, huh?” She says. “Maybe I should just get the hell out of here then. Wouldn’t want to distract you from all your pretty boy shit.”

She starts to pull away, but his grip tightens on her hips before she can get far. It’s a dance they know, it’s usually done with a lot more punches and violence, but it’s a good day and she knows that he must be having a good day too to be so calm. On good days for both of them, neither of them feels the need to argue, it’s more playful and teasing.

“Oh no,” he says, “your spotted ass is stuck with me, cockroach.”

She blinks, taken aback at the familiar words she’s only heard him say once before.

~Flashback~

Swinging through the Parisian skyline wearing nothing but a bodysuit is not something she pictured herself doing, but feeling the rush of the wind in her face for the first time makes everything shitty about her life seem so trivial and forgetful…even the things that make her life hell seem so small in comparison.

Maybe that’s why the Supreme gave Marinette this Miraculous thing in the first place, he knew that once she got a taste of freedom from her shitty life she’d do anything to keep pushing—maybe that’s why he did a lot of things.

Marinette scowls to herself as she lands on a rooftop, what does she care what the Supreme does? He gave her power to do with as she pleases against some dumb butterfly guy, who is she to complain about such a great opportunity?

She flings her yo-yo at a weird pole to fling herself again. Why should she question any of this? So far, she hasn’t found any downsides to this whole superpowers thing.

Crash!

She crashes into something hard, getting dazed, and her yo-yo wraps itself around her and whatever it is. She groans and slowly opens her eyes to see a black mask attached to a not-unattractive face. She opens her mouth to scream at this guy in the mask as he groans and slowly opens his eyes, her mouth shuts as she’s meant with the most beautiful purple she’s ever seen.

He pulls his head back as soon as he sees her face, but she’s too mesmerized to really notice.

“What the…” The guy says. “Hey! Get me out of this fucking thing!”

The guy starts wiggling and Marinette realizes that their bodies are pressed together like something from a sex scene in a movie. She screeches as her cheeks heat up and quickly untangles them, her yo-yo bonking the masked guy in the head as they go onto a rooftop to have their feet on the ground.

As he rubs where the yo-yo hit him, Marinette finally gets a good look at him.

His hair is a weird green color, his eyes are a beautiful over-the-top purple, he’s covered in tasteful spikes and studs, there’s a bell around his neck for some reason, he’s wearing black lipstick, wearing perfectly form-fitting leather from head to toe, and has two cat ears on top of his somehow working-for-him mess of hair.

Hot damn are the only words that come to Marinette’s mind.

She chastises herself, she’s supposed to be wreaking chaos in the name of the Supreme, not ogling some eye candy who’s probably a huge asshole.

“That fucking hurt!” The attractive masked guy says. “What the hell is wrong with you, you psycho watermelon?”

And he’s got an attitude…hmm…maybe Marinette could spend a few minutes beating up the guy in skin-tight leather before she fucks up the butterfly guy. Not like she’s ever gonna see him again, how often would she get the chance to yell at a cat guy?

“I’m a fucking ladybug, asshole.” Marinette snaps back.

The guy rolls his pretty purple eyes. “You look more like a cockroach to me.”

“Yeah? Well, you look like a bag of fleas!”

“Hey!”

He grits his teeth and gets in her face.

“Cockroach!” He growls, pushing her.

“Fleabag!” She growls back, pushing him back.

“Bug breath!”

“Fuzz face!”

They snarl at each other, and she grabs him by the collar, preparing to threaten or punch him. His snarl falls as he sees a large purple butterfly coming towards them.

“What the fuck is that?” He says.

“That’s an akuma, you dumbass.” She says, still holding him by the collar. “It’s attracted to our anger.”

“Then stop being angry, dammit! We don’t need that fucking thing over here!”

Huh, so he’s not a complete dumbass.

They both take a deep breath to calm down and the akuma flies away.

Marinette is suddenly all too aware that she’s still holding him by his jacket and that their faces are close enough that she can feel his breath on her face. She tries really hard not to think about how good his cologne smells or look at his attention-grabbing lips as she quickly pushes his (totally not attractive) face away from her.

He clears his throat and picks her yo-yo off the roof, holding it out to her. “Here, your yo-yo thing.”

Wait, why would he do that? He didn’t need to do that, no one had ever helped her for no reason before…he’s got something more to him under all that attitude, it seems, something that is grabbing her attention.

Her heartbeat picks up a bit as her hand brushes his when she grabs her yo-yo.

Oh no, that needs to stop right there. It’s fine, probably nothing, it’s not like Marinette has to worry about seeing him again, she can completely forget about it and—

“You must be that partner the Supreme is forcing me to work with.” He says. “I’m the cat holder, name’s Claw Noir.”

Fuck. Great, attractive asshole is her stupid partner.

She crosses her arms then eyes him up and down, trying to figure out the kind of person he is. Everyone she’s ever met had always either been afraid of her or wanted her to be afraid of them. Her guess is the latter, if his attitude is any indication, which is going to be a huge fucking inconvenience.

“Damn, do you ever pay attention, cockroach?” Claw Noir says, breaking her from her thoughts. “I asked what I’m supposed to call you?”

“I’m…” She pauses, remembering the Supreme mentioned secret identities, and tries to think of a name for her new super powered persona. “Shady. Yeah, Shadybug.”

“Shadybug? I think cockroach suits you better.”

He eyes her for a moment and something familiar flashes in his eyes, something she recognizes.

She blinks, suddenly overly aware of the guy in front of her. She can see all of it in his eyes, he’s broken and fucked up just like she is (which isn’t surprising since the Supreme obviously went after a specific kind of person)…anger and violence are how people like them communicate. But, that’s not what’s holding her attention. No, what’s holding her attention is the fact that alongside all that anger and pain she can see in his eyes is also that he isn’t afraid of her and he doesn’t want her to be afraid of him. She had never met someone who didn’t interact with her using some kind of fear, it’s…intriguing.

Her heart beats a bit faster at the thought, but surely, it’s just from the adrenaline.

…Right?

Well, maybe it isn’t, but if it isn’t then there’s a problem, she can’t let herself fall for an asshole like him, especially if she’s stuck with him. Not when she finally has some power.

Claw Noir looks her up and down again then sighs tiredly. “Great, the Supreme stuck me with a bitchy partner, just great.”

Does he already hate her? What the fuck is his problem? He doesn’t even know her!

So, falling for him won’t be the problem, not killing him however…well, that might be difficult.

She scowls and sends him a deadly glare. She swings her yo-yo and hits him in the stomach with it.

“If I’m so bitchy,” She says, “then give me your Miraculous so I can get a partner that isn’t such a jackass.”

He glares back, not intimidated in the slightest but still not caring if she’s afraid of him. The nerve on him. He growls and extends his staff, swinging it at her, but she dodges before he manages to hit.

“Oh no,” He says, “your spotted ass is stuck with me, cockroach.”

As they start throwing punches at each other between yells and spreading chaos through the city, she decides that if she’s stuck with him and he hates her for no reason, then she swears she’ll always hate him harder than anyone else.

~End Flashback~

…That was the day they first met forever ago. The day she fell for the guy under all that pain and buried all her want under endless hate. They’ve come so far from that day, so many things have changed, but some things would always be the same. That was the day she fell for the heart under his pain, the day that under all the hate and anger her heart had become his and has always been since.

“What?” Claw says. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You just reminded me of something.” Shady says with a smile. “It’s been a pretty great day, fuzz face, and you’re just making it better.”

“Really? Oh, you’re in a REALLY good mood.” He practically purrs. “Well, Bug-a-babe, I can think of something that would make this day even better.”

He leans in close, their noses touching, his hands still on her hips pressing their bodies together.

“Hmm, and what would that be, fleabag?” She says, her hands moving up his chest teasingly.

Claw opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, her transformation wears off and she immediately pushes him away so she can catch Tikki.

“Hey, what about…” Claw starts but Shady completely ignores him. He sighs and pouts. “Plagg, daggers in.”

Claw detransforms and catches Plagg.

“Hey, Tikki.” Marinette says. “Do you want a cookie or a macron? I can go get you something else too if you want.”

“Cookie’s fine, Marinette.” Tikki says.

She nods and pulls a cookie from her purse at her side—chocolate chip with a hint of fudge, Tikki’s favorite that Marinette always makes sure she has—it’s the last one in her purse. She makes a mental note to make more later.

She looks up to see Adrien pulling a wedge of cheese from his pocket and giving it to Plagg. She snorts, getting Adrien’s attention.

“You’re still bribing Plagg with that gross cheese?” Marinette says.

“Hey!” Plagg says, taking a very large bite of the cheese. “Leave my delicious camembert alone!”

“Yeah, it just became habit.” Adrien sighs tiredly. “I know, I smell like stinky cheese, but he loves it. So, I figure why not? Least I could do after…”

He trails off solemnly unable to finish his sentence. She knows what he means, though, he didn’t have to say it for her to know he’s talking about the muzzles.

She had felt uneasy about the muzzle even when she was evil, it seemed so cruel and unnecessary, but the Supreme had insisted. It’s also one of the reasons she took such joy taking the Miraculous out of his shitty minions’ control, each Miraculous they retrieve is another Kwami freed and a big ‘fuck you’ to the Supreme. It’s one of those things that her and Adrien kept unspoken—another thing they’re ashamed to have done before the other universe.

Tikki sees Marinette frown at the thought and flies up to nuzzle her cheek. Marinette smiles at the action, Tikki understands things better than most.

“Hey, I don’t remember,” Adrien says, eyeing Tikki curiously. “How did you get Tikki to forgive you for uh…well you know?”

“You don’t remember because I never said.” Marinette answers as Tikki flies to her spot in her purse.

“Well, how did you? You two seem almost inseparable now.”

“I didn’t do anything…we just kind of…are.”

And she hadn’t. She didn’t do anything to get Tikki to forgive her. She knows Adrien pulled out all the stops for Plagg, buying him as much expensive cheese as he can eat, flattery, countless apologies, etc.. But, all of that felt hollow to Marinette—not that she had an issue with Adrien doing it, of course—bribery, flattery, countless apologies, those aren’t things Marinette is fully capable of and doing so just would have been hollow excuses. She knows what Tikki is like with other her, she knows what they could be, and something like that shouldn’t come out of the way Marinette had treated her—she knows she doesn’t deserve it and no bribe or flattery or apology could ever make up for it.

And yet, it had. Tikki and Marinette didn’t talk much because Marinette herself didn’t talk much in her parent’s house, but Tikki had been nothing but kind and caring to Marinette from the moment she took off her muzzle. Tikki took care of Marinette when Adrien couldn’t, and whenever Marinette asks her why, she always says ‘I understand feeling trapped and not being able to do something…what it can make you do. I forgave you long before the other universe, Marinette.’ Marinette can never bring herself to respond to that.

She shrugs and sends Adrien a look. “That probably sounds fucking ridiculous.”

Adrien smiles and pulls her closer once again, leaning his forehead against hers. “Nothing you say could ever sound ridiculous to me.”

She hums and closes her eyes, taking in everything that is her partner with a smile. On days like this, her life doesn’t seem so shitty. As long as he’s here with her, her day could only get better from here.

“Good day, Bug?” Adrien whispers.

“As long as you’re here, yeah.” She answers, opening her eyes to look into his.

Adrien smiles even wider and presses a gentle kiss to her nose, lingering much longer than he really needs to.

She sighs contentedly and her hands move up his chest. “You probably have to get back for a photoshoot or something, huh?”

“Hell no, screw that. It’s been a good day, I wanna be yours for the rest of the night.”

That sounds perfect to her, but that doesn’t mean she has to make it easy for him.

“Hmm…” She pauses like she’s considering it. “…tempting, but I don’t know, fur face.”

Adrien whines and moves his lips down to her neck, ghosting over the one spot he knows drives her crazy.

“Please?” He says. “I want your spotted ass with me for as long as possible.”

He squeezes her butt to enunciate his point and she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. Cheeky little asshole.

“Fine,” She says, giving in. “Can we go back to your place, then?”

“Yes!” He answers, way more excited than usual.

“You two are disgusting.” Plagg suddenly says. “Do you have to be gross in front of us every time?”

“Plagg, leave them alone.” Tikki says.

Marinette sighs as the two Kwamis ruin the little dance they have going on, usually they stayed quiet when her and Adrien are doing their little argue-tease-flirt-kiss dance, but lately Plagg has been much more vocal with his ‘distaste’ for them being together (he actually is completely supportive of their situation but pretends to find them gross). It’s simultaneously a good thing and a bad thing that Marinette has some mixed feelings about. On the one hand, she’s happy that Plagg is finally comfortable with them both to tease them and speak up. On the other hand, though, it’s very awkward to make-out when there’s two tiny gods talking about you right fucking next to you.

She steps back from Adrien, disentangling them as she stretches.

“Alright, fleabag.” Marinette says. “Your place. Can we go through the door, or do we have to go through the fucking window again?”

Adrien smirks and cocks his head to the side, telling her without words the answer to her question.

“Dammit.” She says, sighing. “We literally just detransformed. Fine, okay. Who’s turn is it?”

His smirk seems to get wider, even more mischievous.

“Oh, you asshole.” She says with a glare. “Of course, it’s MY fucking turn.”

He winks at her and she rolls her eyes.

“What can I say, Bug-a-babe?” Adrien says. “Someone’s gotta carry the team.”

She narrows her eyes at him and scowls. “Ugh, do you have to make the same pun every fucking time I do this? Tikki,” She turns her attention to the Kwami in her purse, “are you okay for another transformation?”

“I’m ready to go, Marinette.” Tikki answers.

“Great. Tikki, blots on!”

Tikki is sucked into Marinette’s earrings and Marinette transforms back into Shadybug.

She bends down and picks up Adrien in a bridal carry, which as always, he enjoys way too much in her opinion. She grabs her yo-yo and flings it to the top of the buildings the alley is between, slinging herself onto the roof. She runs from rooftop to rooftop with Adrien in her arms until she finally makes her way back to the Agreste mansion, jumping through the window to Adrien’s room before the security cameras have a chance to pick her up.

Shady places Adrien on the ground and stretches, Plagg wastes no time and immediately flies to the little bed and cheese corner Adrien set up for him.

Adrien wipes imaginary dirt off his black jeans as he gets his footing back, the smile on his face almost too bright in the darkly decorated room. She doesn’t know why he likes to be carried so much, but his expression afterwards is always super cute and it’s an excuse to have him in her arms, so she’s okay with it.

Her eyes fall on a full-body mirror that’s on his wall that wasn’t here last time she was in his room—well, maybe it was, every time she’s snuck into his room with him, they’re either completely focused on each other or they play video games on his couch, so maybe she hadn’t noticed it before.

She notices her reflection in the mirror and there’s all these new details in her suit that she’s sure weren’t there before, small and barely noticeable, but new details all the same. Adrien was right, she looks different, if she had been anyone else she never would have noticed. There’s more black around her gloves and ankles, there’s a small cluster of spots on her chest that look out of place, and her hair just seems slightly shorter. It’s hardly different from what it changed to after the other universe, but different all the same.

Adrien steps over behind Shady and wraps his arms around her waist. He nestles his chin into her shoulder and follows her gaze.

“See, cockroach?” He says. “I don’t know, somehow you just look…you don’t look so much like her anymore.”

Her as in Ladybug, as in her from the other universe. When they left the other universe, all she wanted then was to be more like her, she wanted her life, her friends, her world…her parents. Until she looked in the mirror, she hadn’t realized that she hadn’t wanted to be her in a long time—she still thought of her from time to time, wondering how Ladybug is doing or if she would be proud of who she’s become, but at some point she had stopped wanting to be her all together. She doesn’t know what the hell that means, but she likes to think that’s maybe a good thing.

Even Adrien noticed how different it is, despite how little differences there really are. Once again, she finds another reason to love this dumbass for everything he is in and out of the mask. But, as nice as it is that he noticed, that’s a conversation for maybe another day. As good of a day as this is, she doesn’t want to push it in case talking about the other universe brings up some heavy things for him.

She leans her head against Adrien’s, a small smile on her lips. “What, fleabag? Afraid I’m gonna put your pretty model ass out of work?”

He pinches her side with a grin as he detangles from her hips and she yelps in surprise. She curses the day he found out she’s ticklish, the asshole takes way too much advantage of it.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty, cockroach?” He teases. “How embarrassing.”

“Your cheeky ass is literally a model, Fur face.” Shady says with a roll of her eyes.

“Really obsessed with my ass today, huh Bug?”

She tries to scowl at him but can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. He leans in close with a knowing grin and raises his eyebrows at her. She chuckles slightly and immediately shoves his face away as he starts to laugh.

“You’re such a dumbass.” She chastises.

“Yes, but I’m your dumbass.” He dramatically blows her a kiss then starts looking around his room. “Now where did that bag go…I’m fucking starving, and that croissant is calling my name.”

She shakes her head and looks around the room, her eyes falling on a pastry bag she gave him yesterday by the end of his bed. Adrien sees it the same moment she does and makes a beeline for it. She smirks and grabs the bag before he can.

“Hey!” He says with a pout. “I fucking called that!”

She takes the croissant out of the bag and takes a big bite in front of him.

“Not my fault you’re slow without the suit, fleabag.” She says playfully.

“What?” He answers, offended. “I am not!”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“No way, I’m not slow.”

“Please, I could take you down easily, pretty boy.”

“The suit makes you faster and stronger!”

“Even if I didn’t use the enhancedness. You need to work on your punches.”

“Fine.”

Adrien stands up and gets in a ready position.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You said I need to work on my punches, so I’m showing you that I don’t.”

“Oh?” She puts the rest of the croissant back in the bag and places it back on the ground. “You wanna spar?”

“Hell yeah. Take me on without using the enhancedness like you said, I bet I knock you on your spotted ass.”

“I bet you I knock you on your ass in your own bed.”

Adrien throws a punch and Shady blocks it. She throws one of her own and he blocks it too, they fall into a comfortable rhythm of both of them throwing punches or kicks—none of them really landing, even without using the enhancedness on her end, she has to admit that Adrien can hold his own against her.

She ducks and kicks her leg into his foot, knocking him off balance as she comes back up. She punches his chest and he falls backwards onto his bed. Shady jumps on his bed and pins him with her body before he has the chance to recover.

“Told you.” She says cockily.

She grins at Adrien lying beneath her, both of them breathing heavily. She notices his eyes are blown wide with lust as they dart from her lips to her eyes, the tension between them from the day feeling heavy in the atmosphere. His hands slowly move their way up her thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze to give her an idea of what he’s thinking.

She raises an eyebrow and drops her voice to a whisper. “Thought you were hungry, Cat?”

“Oh, I’m hungry alright.” He says, his voice an octave lower.

She isn’t sure who leans forward first, but their lips crash together like they need each other’s breath to survive.

She can never get enough of him, his entire being is a drug and she’s addicted. From the way he kisses her breathless to the way he moves his body into hers in moments like these, every bit of it feels like he’s made for her, like no one else would ever be able to make her lose control like he does.

She presses herself into him and moves her hands up his t-shirt covered chest.

Adrien grabs Shady’s hips as she presses into him while straddling his hips, their lips on each other’s in a way that she knows sets them both on fire. He moves his hand down to her butt and gives it a squeeze. She moans slightly and he takes the opportunity to put his tongue into her mouth. She accepts it easily against her own as she starts to pulse slightly against him, wanting to feel a little friction.

He sits up a bit without breaking the kiss, his hands still holding her butt and hips as she sits in his lap pulsing against him—starting to rub against her himself. The new position makes it easier to feel every detail of his body against her.

She wants him right now, and badly. And from the part of him she can feel against her suit pressing into her in a perfectly sinful way, she can tell he wants her too. If he keeps going like this, she’ll come undone before she even gets the suit off. They had both agreed a long time ago that the physical part of their relationship is fine in the super suits, but the full physical part should be without the suits…it seems unfair to Plagg and Tikki that they have to be apart of it.

She pulls back from the kiss, intending to detransform, but Adrien moves his mouth down to her neck and sucks on the one spot that makes her completely lose control. She moans loudly and moves her neck more to the side to give him better access, her hips grinding against his clothed sex. Her hands find their way into his hair and she gives it a little pull, just the way she knows he can’t get enough of.

While he continues his work on her neck she opens her eyes slightly, planning to recapture his lips in hers after she says the detransformation words, but she notices the clock by his bed and her stomach drops as she remembers something.

She pulls away from him a little.

“Shit!” Shady says. “Is that the time? Shit, shit, shit!”

She pushes him back and his back hits the bed with an ‘oomf’ as she pries herself off of him, falling off the bed in doing so.

“What?” Adrien says.

“I have to go!” She answers, trying to scramble to her feet.

“Go where?”

“I forgot I was supposed to clean up the bakery, if I get there quick enough, maybe no one will notice. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“But—”

She leans forward and grabs his face, kissing him on the lips and trying to convey every bit of want and longing she would have for him when she left. She pulls away suddenly, and he whines at the loss of contact.

“I’ll see you later, fleabag!” She says, already ready to jump out his window. “Love you, bye!”

Before he can respond, she swings her yo-yo out his window and flings herself across the Parisian skyline. She hates leaving him like this, but she’ll make it up to him later.

She quickly swings her way back to her parent’s bakery as fast as she can, praying to whatever divine beings there might be that she’ll be lucky enough to get there after everyone has fallen asleep so no one would notice she hadn’t cleaned up the bakery yet. It was a good day today, maybe she’ll catch a lucky break for once. She jumps through her trap door and lands softly on her bed as quietly as possible.

“Tikki, blots off.” She whispers.

She detransforms and Tikki falls into her hands. She needs to get down to the bakery without anyone knowing, clean it up, and get back up to her room without anyone knowing she didn’t do so sooner. But first, before anything else, Tikki needs to eat something. She looks around her room for food and sees the bag of cookies she keeps hidden peeking out from a drawer across the room.

She takes a deep breath and carefully gets down from her bed, tiptoeing quietly across the floor. The floorboard beneath her creaks and she curses to herself, hoping no one else in the apartment heard it.

“Marinette!” She hears her mother yell in Mandarin followed by stomping up the ladder that leads to her room and her stomach drops into her toes.

“Hide, Tikki.” Marinette says as she runs across the floor to put her in the drawer with the cookies.

“But Marinette—” Tikki says.

“Don’t come out. I’ll be okay.”

Marinette hears the latch to her bedroom being opened and takes in a shallow breath.

Suddenly, all at once, Marinette knows all too well that today isn’t going to be a good day anymore.

—

Adrien hasn’t seen Marinette for almost three days and it’s driving him insane.

Did he do something? Was she mad at him? He can’t think of a single thing he could have done to upset her, especially not with what a good mood she was in the other day in his room.

It’s probably nothing, but ever since the other universe they had never gone this long without seeing or talking to each other. Well, they had ‘talked’ a few times he supposes—but her sending one word replies hours after he messages her or leaving him on read doesn’t really count, it made him worried about her. And to top it off, his schedule has been packed with lessons or photoshoots and the Supreme hasn’t sent out another holder since their fight with the ox girl, so he didn’t have any opportunity to sneak away to her these past few days.

Which is why when she agreed to meet up with him this afternoon by that secret garden they had found awhile back he left right away to enjoy every minute he could with his Bug—completely skipping one of his lessons and ditching a photoshoot in the process. This little garden is hidden away from everyone behind an alleyway most people ignore, they had stumbled on it a bit back and it became their personal hangout place whenever they needed somewhere to go outside their suits. It’s a place where no one would bother them or annoy the hell out of him because he’s a model.

He needs to see her, he needs to know he had no reason to worry, so he’s been waiting for awhile—over an hour earlier than when she said she’d be here, but she doesn’t need to know that when she gets here.

“Cat?” He hears his favorite voice in the world call from the alleyway entrance.

He smiles and stands up from the bench he’s sitting on, anxiously looking at the sweets bag he brought for her beside him. Should he hold it? Just leave it there? He was trying to do something for her to show he was thinking about her in their time apart, he even did his makeup the way she said she likes best on him and threw on the black shirt she made for him, but now the sweets maybe feel like too much.

“Hey, Bug-a-babe.” He says looking in the direction the voice came from. “Did you miss…”

He trails off as he sees her for the first time in three days, whatever remark he’s about to say falling dead in his throat. And not because he’s stunned by her beauty, no, because something is very VERY wrong.

She’s wearing an oversized sweater on a hot day, she’s walking with a slight limp, her bangs are covering one of her eyes, and the usual light of her smile is just not there. He’s seen her like this a few times before and every time he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong about this, that it’s strange that when she’s like this there’s much more venom or malice in her voice than usual.

He meets her halfway on her way to the bench, engulfing her in a gentle but firm hug. She’s surprised for a second but quickly melts into his arms like she needs it.

“You miss me or something, pretty boy?” She says teasingly, but he can hear the relief in her voice.

“Always, Bug.” He answers, inhaling her scent. He pulls back and brings his hands down to hers as he turns. “Come on, let’s sit so we can—”

He freezes as he suddenly registers the feeling of her hand in his, instead of the usual warmth of her skin against his, there’s something scratchy like cloth. He turns back around and pulls her hand up to his eyes, slowly moving her sleeve back to reveal a bandage around her hand, wrist, and trailing up her forearm.

“Marinette,” He says, voice laced with concern as his eyes stay only on the bandage in front of him. “What is—”

“I just fell onto some glass.” She answers, quickly pulling her hand away. “It’s nothing, fleabag, I’m fine.”

“But I also saw you limping.” He says, eyes still focused on her hand at her side.

“Yeah, I fell pretty badly. You know how clumsy I can be, nothing too serious.”

She could be pretty clumsy outside the suit sometimes, he couldn’t count how many times she’d stubbed her toe on his bed frame or had bruises in weird places. But he’s never seen her hurt bad enough to need a bandage or anything out of the suit before…he doesn’t like it.

He kneels down and sweeps her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style.

“Hey!” She shrieks. “Put me down, asshole!”

“You sure as hell shouldn’t be walking on a hurt foot, cockroach.” He answers stubbornly, walking her toward the bench.

“I told you, I’m fucking fine.”

He places her down on the bench and sits next to her, pulling her legs into his lap so he can get a better look at her foot. He grabs the bag beside him and passes it to Marinette.

“Here,” He says, “I got you some sweets, you can eat them while I look at your foot.”

She sends him a glare as she opens the bag. It quickly turns to a slight smile when she sees all the sweets he got her inside. Technically, the bag is a bribe now to let him give her a once-over, but he cheers silently in his head that she doesn’t think the sweets are too much—not that she likely would anyway, Marinette has the biggest sweet tooth he’s ever seen.

She pops one of the chocolate candies into her mouth and he smiles a bit at the sight. He turns his attention back to her feet in his lap and gently pulls off her shoe to take a look at her injured foot.

Luckily, Marinette doesn’t fight him on it, she’s one of the most stubborn people he’s ever met but when it came to one of them being hurt whoever it was is always immediately out-stubborned by the other—in this case, him.

He checks her foot left to right as Marinette eats some more of the sweets, her foot is swollen but ultimately okay. He sighs and looks at her face, which is still on the bag of sweets.

“If you hurt your fucking foot,” He says sternly, “then you should be resting, cockroach. I would have come to you. You didn’t have too—”

“I know, I know.” She says, putting the bag to the side as she starts nervously fiddling with her fingers. “I just…I just really needed to see you.”

There’s something in her voice, something almost pained that makes him look at her like there’s a puzzle he can’t see etched into her features. She got like this sometimes, distant and broken and scared of something, even back before the other universe there had been days where he could tell something was really wrong—it happens sometimes out of the blue on a random day—but he’s never been able to pinpoint why.

He blinks, suddenly realizing this is the first time he’s really looked at her face since she got here. Looking at her fidget and trying to not seem as unnerved as she is, he can’t help but notice that she’s wearing much more eye makeup than usual. Thinking about it, she’s always been meticulous about her makeup but hates whenever someone brings it up, it’s like she always tries to change the topic. It’s almost like she’s trying to…his stomach drops as a terrible thought suddenly pops up in his head, one that’s never once crossed his mind before.

He takes in a deep breath, hoping to hell he’s wrong.

“I don’t wear the makeup anymore.” He says.

“What?” She asks, meeting his eyes.

“To cover up the disease from overusing our powers, I mean. I still wear eyeshadow and eyeliner, but I don’t wear the makeup anymore.”

She blinks at him, confused, and eyes him questioningly as she takes her legs off his lap. After a long pause, she finally responds, “…I noticed.”

“But you do.” He says, trying to tread carefully with what he’s trying to say.

“So?”

“At first, I thought it was maybe just habit or that you just felt more comfortable wearing it, but that’s not it, that’s not why you wear it. If it was out of habit, you wouldn’t be so meticulous about it and if you felt more comfortable wearing it, then you wouldn’t try to hide it whenever someone brings it up.”

Marinette says nothing and looks away from him, her shoulders suddenly tensing.

“Even back when I just watched you from my car window before everything, I wondered why.” He continues as he takes her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “I was always wondering why the hell someone so beautiful with and without makeup cared so much about hiding her face sometimes.”

Marinette looks at him nervously, a look in her eyes that pulls at Adrien’s heart strings, but she doesn’t try to get him to stop talking. She’s letting him continue to talk about the one thing she never let him speak about before, the one thing he knows she never let anyone talk about…not even herself.

“After everything that happened,” He continues, “we started spending more time together…I started noticing some things I didn’t see before.”

He swallows hard as she looks away, avoiding his eyes. He hates this, he hates that he has to bring this thing up that could cause her pain. He hates that he’s noticed all of these things that are starting to add up if his thought is right.

“How quickly your demeanor changes when you’re working in the bakery alone, how calmer you are.” He lists. “How you sometimes wear a bunch of layers even with the heat outside, and how angry you get whenever someone mentions you should take them off. How you always want to spend more time with me after and before school, how you always want to stay out just a bit longer and you just don’t want to go home yet.”

Before he had never really thought much of those things, he would ignore them as just habits she has or just wanting to spend more time with him—which maybe is also the case, but…

“How sometimes you flinch when I ask about things outside of school and our time together.” He continues. “How quickly you get quiet and change the topic when I bring up your house. How you never want me at your place when your parents are there.”

Adrien pauses and leans closer to Marinette, gingerly putting his thumb under her chin to bring her eyes to his.

“How…” He hesitates, trying to find the right words. “…How you have the most beautiful eyes in the world that I could get lost in, but you always seem to look away when I look too long like you’re worried.”

He pauses again and gently uses his fingers to push her bangs away from her eye, the makeup on it thick and dark but at closer inspection, likely not makeup at all.

“…And how you hide behind your hair often but even more after you came home late the night before or made a mistake in the bakery.”

Marinette leans into his touch, tears forming in her eyes. She rips her gaze from his as her lip starts quivering.

He knows how much she hates crying, he knows she doesn’t want him of all people to see her cry, the fact that she’s this close to doing so means this is something really serious and terrible. Which doesn’t give him hope that he’s wrong about what’s happened, and damn does he really hope he’s wrong.

Adrien gently places his hands on both of her cheeks, rubbing comforting circles into them with his thumbs as he brings her gaze back to look at him. A tear falls down her cheek and he wipes it away.

“Marinette,” He says with hundreds of emotions dripping into his voice. “You are my partner, my best friend, my everything more and inbetween. I would never do anything to hurt you or force you to tell me anything, I never want to be the reason you’re in pain. So, you don’t have to answer me, you don’t have to say anything. But I…fuck…I need to ask. It’s…it’s your parents, isn’t it?”

Marinette closes her eyes and takes in a shallow breath, her tears falling freely to confirm his suspicions.

Adrien kisses her sweetly and pulls her into a hug as she starts to cry with everything in her. He pets her hair, and she holds him like he might slip away, like he’s the thing grounding her to earth.

As she sobs into his shirt, he feels his own tears form in his eyes—whether tears of anger or hatred or sadness, he isn’t sure. On the one hand, he feels heartbroken that his partner, his friend, his love—the one person that makes this shitty world feel like it isn’t so shitty—has been living with something so terrible for who knows how long. On the other hand, he feels like he could burn the whole world to the ground for the mere idea that anyone fucking dared to hurt HIS Marinette like this. He shoves both of those feelings down for the moment, his only focus has to be on Marinette.

“I’m here.” He says trying to comfort her with the only words he knows he can. “Stay with me. Breathe.”

Her hands clutch his shirt like a lifeline and he holds her firmly in his embrace to show he means it, that he’s here with her and would never turn away.

“I’m here.” He says. “I promise I’m here.”

The more he learns about this girl, the more he understands her, so many parts of her start to make more sense. The anger, the willing to do anything, the tears when the wish didn’t work in the other universe…the reason she is who she is and was suddenly became much clearer to him. And it makes him love her more than he already did, which he didn’t think was possible. He knows he will always do anything for her, he’s hers in every sense of the word, and no way is anyone ever laying a damn finger on her ever again if he has anything to say about it.

Her crying doesn’t stop but her sobs become less frantic. He squeezes her tightly and grits his teeth, anger and rage still bubbling inside him at the thought of Marinette’s parents even thinking about…

“You are not going back there.” He says, barely managing to say it without transforming and running off to wipe the Dupain-Chengs off the face of the fucking planet. He isn’t sure if he’s telling it to her or to himself, either way, he knows he’ll never let her go back to that wretched place again, not without him by her side.

“I…” Marinette says into his shirt. “…I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Yes, you do.” He says, pulling her back slightly to look her in the eyes. “You have me, you’ll always have me.”

“But—”

“No, no buts. Today, tomorrow, fifty fucking years from now, you have me. You’re not going back there.” He leans his forehead against hers, their noses touching, and takes her cheeks in his hands. “I won’t let them hurt you ever again. You can stay with me, at the Resistance, or we’ll find you a place, but that damn hell hole is not home for you. You are my home, Marinette, if you’ll have me and want me to be, I can be yours.”

She sniffles and lunges forward, wrapping her arms around him as she reburies her face into his shirt. He can feel her shaking and start crying all over again, there’s only one thing he can think might help.

“Plagg, daggers out.” He says and transforms, wrapping his arms around her to hold her.

The moment his clothes turn into his super-suit, his breathing immediately turns to a purr that rumbles from deep in his chest. He finds the purring a little embarrassing sometimes, but it always seems to calm Marinette down when they argue or deal with a rough fight. She told him once that something about hearing it brings her feet back to the ground and reminds her that he’s there. He hopes that’s also true for when she’s broken like this…he doesn’t think there’s something he can say for something like this, but he needs her to know he’s here with her.

Remarkably, his purring seems to calm her down. They sit in silence as she catches her breath and slowly seems to recover, he doesn’t dare move but she nuzzles into his chest making him purr louder—she can tease him all she wants about it, he doesn’t care as long as it helps her.

He tries to keep his anger in check as he waits for her to be okay again. He wants to be what Marinette needs right now, someone to hold her and comfort her, but it feels so fucking hard as it hits him that this is the first time she’s had someone to comfort her about this. He’s the person who’s there for her for something like this and he also hasn’t been by her side in days.

Three days. He hasn’t seen her in three fucking days. Who knows what she was dealing with in that time? She could have ended up in the hospital or worse because of those damn monsters she calls parents. If he had been there than she wouldn’t…he shoves those thoughts out of his mind, all that matters is that both of them are here now and he won’t let it happen again—those thoughts can be saved for later when he raises hell and makes them pay, they have no place in his head while Marinette is falling apart in his arms.

“You must think I’m so weak.” Marinette whispers.

He kisses the top of her head. “Never. You’re the strongest most amazing fucking person I’ve ever met.”

She sniffles and hums, moving her head up to rest against his leather-clad shoulder. Although she still looks like she’s breaking apart inside, at least she isn’t crying as much. She fiddles with the bell around his neck—the bell that feels like it’s meant to be hers—as he continues purring, the soft calming jingle barely loud enough to hear.

“I lied to you...I never wanted to lie to you. But I…” She says, almost fighting fresh tears.

“I don’t care about that, Marinette, I care about you.”

“…I’m sorry.”

He pulls her into his lap and rests his chin on her head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Bug. You’ll never have to be sorry for any of this.”

She sighs and curls into him as they fall into silence again.

He isn’t sure how much time passes as they sit there like that, it feels like days but he knows it’s probably only a few minutes. He wishes they could sit there like that for days as if the rest of the world isn’t as shitty as it really is, but the world keeps spinning and that means they keep moving.

“What do we do now?” She whispers in a voice that almost breaks his heart.

“Now, I take you home and we worry about the rest later.”

“Home? As in—”

“Yeah, as in my place.”

“But what about your father?”

“He can fucking deal with it. I don’t care what he thinks.”

“…Okay.”

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

Marinette isn’t normal, she knows and understands that. She’s never been normal. She’s always keeping secrets, holds her emotions close to her chest, and hides behind her mask as Shadybug to understand what she’s really feeling. So, when the biggest most terrible secret she holds close to her bruised and battered chest is finally discovered by Adrien…she doesn’t know what to do.

As soon as she stops crying, she does the only logical thing her brain can think of: she convinces herself that this is all a stupid nightmare.

Even as Adrien detransforms in the street by his house and leads her through the gated entrance to his front door (which is notably the first time she’s even seen this side of the house—she usually only goes in through his window), she still can’t believe she could have been so careless as to actually let Adrien see her so weak.

Even harder to believe that Adrien would let her come into his house with complete disregard to his father—that in itself is enough to make Marinette think she’s dreaming.

“There you are, Adrien.” His father says as he comes down the steps by the front door they enter through. “I was worried when you missed your lesson and photo shoot this afternoon. You know better than to…who is this?”

“This is Marinette.” Adrien answers assertively. “She’s my…she’s um…”

His father looks her up and down, scrutinizing her suspiciously. It makes Marinette’s skin crawl that this man who makes Adrien’s life so difficult would dare to judge her, so she returns his look with a threatening glare.

“Is she the reason you missed a lesson and the photo shoot?” His father asks, his eyes on Marinette turning angry and staying only on her.

Adrien grits his teeth, clearly annoyed at his father’s tone towards Marinette. “She’s staying here with us for awhile.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m not asking.”

“…Adrien, you can’t—”

“She’s. Staying.” Adrien growls, his protectiveness that comes out when he’s Claw seeping into his voice like a threat—she’s surprised to hear it directed at his father, Adrien had always mentioned to Marinette that he couldn’t find it in him to stand up to his father most of the time.

“Adrien,” Marinette whispers, “it’s okay, you don’t have to—”

“Adrien,” His father says sternly, regaining his attention. “Can I speak to you privately?”

“No.” Adrien answers. “If you have something to say, you can say it to both of us. I’m not leaving her until she’s set.”

“Fine. You can’t just let some random girl stay in our home.”

“She’s not some random—”

“Clearly, she’s also probably the reason you missed a lesson and a photoshoot—and if I had to guess, it’s likely not the first time she caused you to do so.”

“That’s not—”

“Her hand is wrapped in a bandage and that’s probably a black eye hiding under her makeup, isn’t it? So, she’s been fighting too if I had to guess.”

“You don’t know what—”

“She clearly isn’t a good influence and very obviously spells trouble. I won’t let you bring yourself down with someone like this, you have so much potential to be someone great, Adrien. I won’t let you throw everything away by aligning yourself with a girl like her, you’re better than that.”

Adrien grits his teeth and turns himself and Marinette around, walking away from his father. “She’s. Staying.”

“I won’t allow it.” His father says from behind them. “I’m disappointed in you, Adrien.”

At that, Marinette freezes in her tracks.

Adrien is trying to be better, he’s trying to protect her and keep her safe in this dream—anyone who knows him should be proud of him. But his damn father is talking down to him like he’s some kind of monster for doing this one thing. Where the hell is the justice in that? If anyone is a monster, Marinette thinks it would be her…that’s how her parents treat her, her own mother has screamed at her numerous times that she’s a clumsy freak who’s wasting space. How could anyone treat her favorite person in the world like that? She couldn’t stand for that.

Marinette clenches her fist and whips around to his father. If this is a dream, then she might as well start swinging. She knows this won’t end well even if it is a dream, too late to stop now, her mouth is already moving with venom before she can consider this as a bad idea.

“Hey, fuck-head!” She yells at his father, stomping toward him as quickly as she can with an injured foot. “Your son is a fucking masterpiece work of art who’s doing his best and you’re an asshole for ignoring him. Stop being a fucking dickhead! He’s the most incredible person I know and I’ll be damned if I let anyone tell me to stay away from him. You can have a problem with me all you want, but don’t you fucking dare try to make him feel bad about himself because of it you piece of shit!”

Adrien and his father gape at her, speechless and stunned in place, and it suddenly dawns on her the very high likelihood that this actually isn’t a dream…and she just yelled at Gabriel Agreste and insulted him…repeatedly.

She shrinks into herself, feeling the need to beat herself up at the sudden realization of what she had just done. That’s exactly what she always imagined saying to Adrien’s father whenever Adrien told her about his issues with him…she never thought she would ACTUALLY say that to him the first time they met.

After a moment that seems to feel like an eternity, his father clears his throat and scrutinizes her.

“You care about my son?” His father says.

Marinette looks to her feet and nods, feeling like the world is going to cave in on her.

“Adrien,” his father continues, “why does she need a place to stay?”

Adrien joins Marinette’s side and puts a protective arm around her, an underlying threat in his voice as Marinette feels his eyes on her. “I won’t let her go back to that damned place she calls home. I won’t and I can’t, she deserves somewhere safe, and that’s here by me.”

His father hums thoughtfully and Marinette meets his eyes.

The distrust and judgement in his eyes that previously set her on edge is completely gone, in it’s place is a kind of…realization Marinette can’t place—but the malice behind it, seems like it’s gone, and Marinette doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Marinette, was it?” His father says.

Marinette nods in affirmation, taking in a breath to prepare herself for what’s about to come.

“We have a guest room you’re welcome to stay in for as long as you like.” His father continues. “I’ll get you set and don’t be afraid to ask for anything you need. Adrien, while I get her comfortable in the guest room, go ask the chef to make something for her, she’s probably hungry.”

“W-what?” Adrien asks, dumbfounded.

“Adrien, go get her something to eat.” His father insists. “I’ll help her to the guest room, we want her to be comfortable here.”

Adrien tightens his grip on Marinette protectively.

His father eyes them and sends them a gentle smile—Marinette can see why it annoys Adrien so much with everything he’s said about his mom, his smile seems so nice and genuine and so…wrong.

“It’s okay, Adrien.” His father continues. “I promise we’ll take care of her, she’ll be alright.”

Marinette isn’t sure how it happens, but next thing she knows Adrien is running to the kitchen and Gabriel Agreste is directing her into an elegantly decorated empty bedroom.

She awkwardly sits on the edge of the bed as Mr. Agreste stands by the door. For a moment she’s terrified he’s going to shut it and raise hell against her for what she said or worse if he closes the door and reacts like her parents would…the thought of something like that happening to her so close to Adrien is the most terrifying idea she may ever have.

Thankfully, Mr. Agreste leaves his place at the door and kneels to the floor in front of her, so she calms down slightly—only slightly, as Gabriel Agreste is now mere inches from her face and she literally just insulted him to his face…repeatedly.

“I’m sorry for being so abrasive, Miss Marinette.” Mr. Agreste says. “I worry about my son and many people try to take advantage of him…I was worried you might be doing the same since he’s a model, wealthy, and famous.”

His father is nicer than Marinette pictured, which sets Marinette’s teeth on end knowing how much Adrien goes through because of him. She might not be in a great place right now with what Adrien now knows about her, but she’ll be damned if she lets Gabriel Agreste not be read for the filth he is—even if he is a little nice and even if she would deal with terrible consequences. She’s already insulted him, she probably can’t make it worse at this point, right?

“I would never hurt Adrien, I don’t fucking care about any of that.” Marinette says almost threateningly. “Maybe if you weren’t such an asshole, you’d know that he fucking despises anyone who would care about that shit.”

Fuck. Why did she say that? Now he’ll know that she meant every word, she could’ve backtracked or made up some excuse, but no she has to run her big mouth. Apparently, yes, she probably can make it worse.

“I’ll let that one slide given the circumstances.” Mr. Agreste says. “You’ve got some bite to you, I respect that. But what I respect most is your concern for my son, he’s never introduced me to one of his…” He pauses like he’ s carefully choosing the word. “…friends before. I trust his judgement, if he thinks you need to stay here then you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you wish. But…”

Marinette blinks, not sure if this isn’t her imagination playing tricks on her. “But?”

Mr. Agreste shifts his weight uncomfortably, trying to avoid her gaze. “But…your black eye?”

Her hands clench into fists at the sudden reminder of what got her into this situation in the first place and the painful memory that goes along with it.

“What about it?” She answers with venom dripping into her voice.

She knows Mr. Agreste didn’t mean anything by it, but she knows he was entering dangerous territory and felt the need to warn him to not tread further—the only person she would even consider in that aspect is Adrien.

“I won’t pry.” He answers calmly. “But with the way Adrien is protective of you and you needing a place to stay…I have a feeling I was wrong about how you received it and if that’s the case…well, I’m sorry for assuming and hope I can help. Stay in my house as long as you need, I won’t send you back to a place that’s bringing you pain.”

There’s a quiet knock at the open door and they both look up to see Adrien holding a tray with some food on it.

“Nette?” Adrien says, eyeing his father suspiciously as he walks into the room. “Are you okay? Did he fucking—”

“I’m fine, Adrien.” Marinette quickly answers. “We were just…talking.”

“Yes,” Mr. Agreste says as he stands, “I was just getting to know our new house guest a bit better.”

Adrien sends his father a suspicious glare and places the food tray on the bed by Marinette. He opens his mouth to say something, but his father speaks before he can.

“We should give her some space, Adrien.” Mr. Agreste says. “It’s probably been a long day, we should leave her alone to eat and get some rest.”

“But—”

“Adrien…” Mr. Agreste says more sternly.

Marinette reaches for Adrien’s hand, gaining his attention, and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Adrien,” Marinette says, “it’s okay, I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure? Because I can—”

“Go on, Adrien, I’ll be alright. I have my phone and my purse.”

She emphasizes her last word, hoping that Adrien understands her double meaning. She knows he doesn’t want her to be alone, but his father won’t let him stay, so she’s trying her best to convey that she won’t be alone—Tikki is waiting in her purse.

Adrien nods in understanding and a moment of silent communication passes between them that Marinette knows means they’ll be seeing each other later.

“Okay,” Adrien says, his eyes never leaving hers. “But call me immediately if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Mr. Agreste escorts Adrien out of the room and he watches her as they leave, worry clear on his face. Marinette hates that he might think she’s weak, but a part of her is actually relieved that he cares so much.

Adrien closes the door behind them and Marinette releases the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in.

Tikki flies out from Marinette’s purse once they’re alone, floating inches from her face.

“You should eat and rest, Marinette.” Tikki says.

“I’m fine, Tikki.”

“No, you’re not. You haven’t been fine since long before I came into your life…long before the other universe.”

“I’m not weak Tikki.”

“No, you’re not weak, you’re strong and smart and capable and much more. But, you’re not okay.”

“But I—”

“Marinette, you’re in shock. Please, let Adrien help you with this.”

“But—”

“Marinette,” Tikki says more sternly. “I wore a muzzle for centuries and have been forced to do things I didn’t want to do. I’ve been in pain, abandoned, misused, and tormented. I know what it means to be hurt by someone who is meant to protect you, I know what it does to you and the things it makes you do. Please, listen to me about this and let Adrien help.”

Marinette closes her mouth and guiltily avoids Tikki’s eyes. Tikki barely, if ever, spoke about how things had been before the other universe…everything the small Kwami had been through. And Marinette had never wanted to cause Tikki pain, she knew how it felt to be reminded of the thing that could destroy you, so she never asked.

Marinette slowly grabs some of the food and starts eating, Tikki smiles slightly and watches her eat to make sure she eats enough.

They don’t say another word and there’s a gentle understanding between them as Marinette finishes the food and lays back on the bed. It’s soft and the blankets are thick—far better than the hard mattress and thin blanket she’s always known.

She looks out the large window by her bed, it’s dark and well into the night. How long had she been here? Had it been hours? Minutes? Would her parents notice she’s gone?

She feels fresh tears forming in her eyes at the thought of her parents and bites her lip so hard she draws blood. She runs her hands over her wrapped hand, the tears falling freely as she remembers how it happened—how it really happened.

She shakes her head, trying to focus on something—anything—else, and looks around the room.

There’s expensive art and furniture everywhere, far nicer than anything Marinette has ever known in her whole life, but it’s also comfortable and tasteful. The room is…nice. She tries to close her eyes and go to sleep, but despite the comfortable bed and the welcoming ambiance of the room she feels completely restless.

The silence is deafening and a reminder of why she had ended up in the Agreste house in the first place.

Maybe Tikki is right, maybe she’s been in shock all day because she’s never told anyone the truth about her parents. Maybe she’s in shock at the fact that Adrien would help her with something like this. Maybe she buried her emotions for so long that she didn’t know how to fully feel them. Maybe this had never been a dream. Maybe her parents really are monsters. Maybe they never cared about her in the first place.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

There’s so much she isn’t sure of and will never be sure of, so much she’ll never understand. But one thing that she does understand is that there’s one thing she’s always been sure of.

She snaps her eyes open and leans forward. This bed is incredibly nice and comfortable, but…she can’t sleep alone.

“Tikki?” Marinette whispers, hoping her Kwami is awake.

“I’m here, Marinette.” Tikki answers, suddenly flying in front of her face. “I’m always here.”

Marinette hugs her knees to her chest. “Tikki I…I can’t sleep when I’m…when I’m…”

“You can’t sleep alone.” Tikki finishes for her.

Marinette nods and closes her eyes as a tear falls down her cheek.

“When you’re alone all you see is them and what they’ve done to you, isn’t it?” Tikki says.

Marinette nods again, glad that she didn’t have to say the reason she can’t sleep out loud.

“You’re not alone, Marinette.” Tikki says. “You’ll never be alone again, you have me and you have Adrien. We won’t ever let you be alone again, we won’t let you go back to that place.”

Marinette slowly opens her eyes and meets Tikki’s gaze. “I know, Tikki. I just don’t…I need to…”

Tikki smiles and gently hugs Marinette’s knee. “You need to see him?”

Marinette nods.

“You only have to ask.” Tikki continues.

“Tikki, can I…”

“Of course. You know the words, Marinette.”

“…Thank you. Tikki, blots on!”

Tikki is immediately sucked into Marinette's earrings and she transforms into Shadybug.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she opens the window and jumps out, quickly swinging over to the other side of the house where she knows Adrien’s room is. Thankfully, the window is open like it has been at night for as long back as she can remember…if her head wasn’t so clouded, she’d probably be wondering if he left it open just for her like she had for him with her balcony.

She stops that thought in its tracks, she can’t let herself think of that place…she can’t let herself go there, at least not for tonight, tomorrow she can let herself feel all of that.

She jumps through Adrien’s window and he immediately leans up from his bed.

“Bug?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“I wasn’t sleeping…I was thinking of transforming but I…”

“Tikki, blots off.” A pink light flashes and Marinette detransforms. Tikki sends her a concerned glance then flies off to Plagg’s corner to rest.

Adrien rips the blanket off and comes to her side, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “What’s going on, Bug?”

“I just wanted to see you, after everything today and everything you know now…I was worried that you wouldn’t…that we weren’t…”

Adrien pulls back to look her in the eyes. “Nothing could ever change what this is, Marinette. Nothing. Your spotted ass is stuck with me, now and forever.”

Marinette feels a warmth spread through her hearing him say he would never leave her like everyone else had. She knows he’s trying to lighten the mood to maybe get her to smile after the day they had together and hearing those familiar words he said the first time they met just further reminds her of how far they’ve come from who they once were.

“I couldn’t sleep in there.” Marinette says, quick to change the subject so her thoughts don’t wander where they don’t belong. “…In a new place and bed I don’t know, it just felt so…wrong.”

Adrien nods in understanding. “You can sleep in my bed, Nette.”

She nods awkwardly and sits on the edge of the bed, looking at her hands. Adrien kneels in front of her and rests his head on her knees similar to a housecat waiting for attention. The thought of the infamous Claw Noir acting like a domesticated housecat almost makes her smile—almost.

“Are you okay, Bug?” Adrien asks.

If it were anyone else, Marinette would say fine and aggressively change the subject, maybe throw in an insult or threat for good measure.

But this isn’t just anyone. This is Claw Noir, her partner and the only person who understands her. This is Adrien Agreste, her best friend and the person who makes the world less shitty. This is her fleabag, fur-face, pretty boy, and Cat—her everything more and inbetween.

“No,” Marinette answers with tears starting to form in her eyes. “No, I’m not okay. I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay, Adrien. I…I’ve been burying my feelings for so long that I’m not sure how to feel them and this…m-my parents…I…I don’t know anything else. It’s all I’ve known my whole life and I know I’m fucked up. But I’m terrified that I’m going to fuck us—this—up and you’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me. I can’t, I won’t—"

Adrien leans forward and hugs her hips, resting his head against her knees. A low vibration going against her that immediately calms her down and causes her to stop talking, something that had only ever happened when he’s transformed as Claw Noir. It takes her a moment to realize what’s happening: he’s purring. She didn’t even know he could purr as Adrien.

He slowly stands up and leans his forehead against hers, his purring quiet and hard to hear, but a sound Marinette would know anywhere.

“You’re not going to fuck this up, Marinette.” Adrien whispers. “I promise that won’t happen.”

Marinette hums. She’ll fight like hell to believe him, but how can she when her whole life the people who are meant to care for and love her called her a useless fuck-up? She doesn’t know how to believe she won’t, but with Adrien…with Adrien maybe she could learn.

“You should get some sleep, Bug.” Adrien whispers, which Marinette knows is his way of saying he means it without pushing past a boundary she isn’t ready to cross. It’s always been a relief to her all the things they could say without ever using words, especially when her head isn’t on right.

Marinette nods as Adrien takes his hands off of her and she lays down on his bed to get comfortable. Tomorrow she could feel all those things she’s buried, all the hurt and the pain she kept hidden. Tomorrow she could let the truth sink in, but tonight, she just wants to feel completely safe.

Adrien takes a step away and Marinette immediately grabs his arm, knowing there’s more to say between them. She swears she can almost hear both of them saying the things they never would because, why would they need to when the other already knew?

“Are you sleeping here?” Marinette says. Please don’t leave me alone.

“I can sleep on the couch or in another room if you want.” Adrien answers. I’m here, whatever you need.

“No, I don’t want you to go.” You’ve done so much for me already.

“And I don’t want to go.” Anything for you.

This is the person that had been closed off and hated her. This is the person who had her heart from the very beginning and showed her the way out of the darkness. This is the person who’s always meant more to her than anyone else, even before she accepted that fact. She wants him to understand that, that with every broken promise or violent attempt to please the Supreme, every day before and after the other universe, the one thing that had always been the best part of her life has been him.

“Then stay.” Marinette whispers, knowing he’ll understand what she really means. I love you. I always have.

Adrien blinks and a gentle smile spreads across his face. “Okay.” I love you. I always will.

She falls asleep in his arms knowing that she could feel the world crashing down on her tomorrow and every day after, but for now—just for a moment in his arms—she has a little peace.

#speechless changes #claw noir #fanfic #miraculous ladybug #shadybug #adrinetteapril2024 #villains #reverse crush #sharing bed #found family #flirting

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mads-weasley · 7 months

Text

Epiphany Pt. 11: Labyrinth

Lewis Nixon x Reader

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

inspo: labyrinth by taylor swift

A/N: covid finally got me, yall...and i wouldn't wish this on anyone (even the norman dike's of the world). thanks for being patient with this chapter! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Easy's respite at Mourmelon-le-Grand gets cut short when they quickly deploy to hold the divisions of SS troops that break through the line in the Ardennes Forest.

Warnings: mentions of blood

DECEMBER 18, 1944: MOURMELON-LE-GRAND, FRANCE

“George,” (y/n) grumbled, giving him a smack on the shoulder. “Shut up! We’re trying to watch this!”

He turned toward her with a blank expression. “I’ve seen this movie 13 times, okay?”

“Well, I haven’t, so shut up,” Joe Toye griped, whispering over his shoulder at the man.

For a brief moment, George’s John Wayne impersonation stopped, and (y/n) tried to focus on the movie, but Skip and Don erupted into a lively conversation behind her.

She swiveled around in her chair, her gaze fixed on them as she furrowed her brows in exasperation. “Guys! Seriously, I love you, but be quiet,” she hissed. “Please.”

“Apologies,” Skip murmured, raising his hand in a playful salute. “Shutting up, corporal.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention back to the movie.

“Got a penny?”

She ignored him.

“Got a penny?” George whispered, drawing out the phrase.

She ignored him again.

He paused and took a drag of his cigarette. “Got a penny?” he called out in the quiet room.

Just as (y/n) turned to punch his arm, Lip turned around with his arms crossed, glaring at him with a shared frustration.

“What?” George laughed, grinning proudly.

Before she could say anything to him, the doors swung open, ushering in a blast of frigid air. The lights flicked on, and the paratroopers squinted and groaned.

“Come on! Quiet!” Two officers yelled, striding to the front of the room. “I said, quiet! Elements of the 1st and the 6th SS Panzer Division have broken through in the Ardennes Forest.”

The news left everyone stunned, and (y/n) exchanged a look of disbelief with Goerge.

“Now they’ve overrun the 28th Infantry and elements of the 4th. All officers report to respective HQs. All passes are canceled.”

The room erupted in complaints, but her thoughts were fixed on Lew. She had to find him before they mobilized. Getting up, she tugged her thin coat closer to her body as she pushed through the doors and was hit with the bitter cold.

As she turned toward Lew’s barracks, someone grasped her arm, gently pulling her to the side of the tent. Seeing Lewis’ familiar browns, she sighed. “I was just about to come find you.”

“So you’ve heard?” he asked, worry etched across his face. “Do you have any winter gear? Or ammo?”

Panic gnawed at (y/n) as she shook her head. “No, not yet. It’s bad, isn’t it,” she asked, looking around at the chaos that now enveloped the camp.

“Here,” he whispered, removing his dark brown scarf and wrapping it around her neck. “I’ll see if I can find you anything else.”

“But, Lew, you need-” she began, but he interrupted, keeping the scarf securely in place.

“No. You keep it.”

“What about you?”

Lew shrugged, and an icy gust of wind ran through the camp, sending a shiver through his body. “I’ll manage.”

Concern washed over her, and she looked up at him in disbelief. “Lewis Nixon, you need to-”

“Nix!” a voice called out, and they turned to see Dick, bundled up in what little winter clothing he could find. “We’ve got to go.”

Lew nodded and turned back to (y/n), quickly checking their surroundings. He leaned in and pressed a soft, reassuring kiss against her lips. “Please be careful, sweetheart. I love you.”

She closed her eyes, basking in his warmth before he pulled away. “You, too,” she murmured against his lips.

“I’ll find you once we get settled, alright?” He assured her, backing up slowly.

Taking one last look at her, he turned and joined Dick. (Y/n) stood for a moment, watching as they walked away. She knew she had to act fast to get ready for their deployment. Quickly, she turned and headed towards her barracks, scanning the area for her squad members.

In her hurried pace, she spotted George walking without his characteristic smirk. He seemed preoccupied, lost in his thoughts as he puffed on a cigarette. She rushed up to him, her boots crunching on the frost-laden ground.

“George,” (y/n) called out, trying to catch his attention.

George turned to face her. “I was wondering where you ran off to.”

She wasted no time in telling him the truth about the situation. “It’s bad, George,” she breathed out. “We need to grab any ammo and warm clothing we can.”

“Right,” he nodded, eyes widening for a moment.

They walked together toward the barracks, the biting cold gnawing at their skin. George, just like her, had no winter clothing, and they shared their concerns about the upcoming objective.

“Do you have anything for the cold?” she asked, worried for her friend.

He shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “Not a stitch. How about you?”

Her fingers instinctively touched the scarf around her neck, the soft fabric a comforting reminder of Lew’s presence. “I found this,” she stammered, her face heating up despite the chill in the air.

“You found it, huh?” George teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. “That’s funny because I just spotted Captain Nixon without his scarf a minute ago.”

“What a coincidence,” she mumbled, avoiding George’s playful gaze, her mind racing to come up with an excuse.

“Don’t worry, (y/n/n),” he grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “I’m sure he just misplaced it,” he winked.

Rolling her eyes at George’s teasing, she playfully shoved him. “Whatever George.” The gravity of the situation reminded her that, scarf or not, they all had much more pressing matters to attend to.

(Y/n) sat sandwiched between Bill and Joe Toye in the troop transport, the vehicle’s rattling frame reverberating through her body. The biting cold was an ever-present enemy, and it threatened to gnaw at them and leave its mark. The body heat from the larger men on either side of her provided somewhat of a defense, pushing back the icy chill that constantly threatened to invade.

She huddled into Lew’s scarf, the comforting smell of his presence mingling with the faint traces of whiskey clung to the fabric. It was a meager substitute for his actual warmth, but it offered a semblance of comfort in the bleak situation they were facing.

“I just wanna know where they’re sending us,” Babe called out above the engine’s roar, voicing the collective concern. “And what we’re supposed to do with no ammo.”

(Y/n) shifted slightly, glancing over at George seated across from her. She shook her head, her expression reflecting a mix of uncertainty and worry. “I don’t know, Babe. Strayer isn’t even in the country.”

Her eyes flicked up to a replacement lighting a cigarette for Popeye.

“Hey, kid,” Bill called out, his teeth chattering. ”What’s your name, again?”

The boy looked over at Bill warily. “Suerth. Suerth Jr.”

“Got any ammo, Junior?” Babe asked quickly.

“Just what I’m carrying.”

“What about socks, Junior? You got extra socks?”

Looking around the truck confused, Suerth nodded once. “A pair.”

Skip immediately perked up from his position on the truck floor in front of (y/n), waving his index finger around. “You need four, minimum. Feet, hands, neck, balls…”

(Y/n) grinned as she and the rest of the men chimed in, “Extra socks warms them all!!”

“Okay, we all remembered that one. But did we remember the socks?” Skip joked, but the cold atmosphere had already seeped back into the truck. The rest of the men continued in conversation, but (y/n)’s mind wandered to a few weeks prior in Paris.

As the first rays of dawn fluttered through the curtains, the gentle light began to dance across the room. (Y/n) stirred, slowly waking from her peaceful slumber. She found herself in a moment of peace, her head resting on Lew’s chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting lullaby.

The morning painted the room in a soft glow, illuminating the features of the man beside her. She watched him sleep, her eyes tracing the gentle curve of his nose, the shadows playing on his face. His lips were slightly parted, and the early morning light highlighted his features in a way that made her heart swell.

As if sensing her gaze, he stirred, eyelashes fluttering as he started to wake. The corners of her lips turned up in a tender smile, observing the moment as Nix slowly became aware of his surroundings.

His brown eyes met hers in a warm and sleepy gaze that made her heart skip a beat. He smiled back, a drowsy yet affectionate look that spoke of the feelings they’d shared the night prior. The sun continued its ascent, bathing the room in a golden hue.

Their eyes remained locked, a silent conversation passing between them. In that precious moment, words were unnecessary. With a gentle caress, (y/n) brushed a strand of dark hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering on his skin.

“You know,” (y/n) murmured, her voice soft as the morning breeze. “You look especially handsome in the morning light.”

Lew chuckled, the sound like music to her ears. “Flattery won’t get you everywhere, you know.”

“Maybe just a little closer,” she teased, shifting to face him more fully, her arms wrapping gently around his waist.

He grinned, the sunlight catching his eyes. “Can’t argue with that.”

Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them and the-

“(Y/n),” Bill shook her shoulder. “We’re here.”

Bill’s words jarred (y/n) from her memory, pulling her back to their present reality. Her eyes widened as she looked around, seeing that they were the last ones in the truck.

“Sorry,” she muttered, getting up and grabbing her gear quickly.

He watched her carefully for a moment. “You alright?”

“Yeah, she nodded, following him out of the truck. “Just got a lot to think about, is all.”

As her feet hit the frozen ground, the icy wind pierced through her. She shivered involuntarily, nuzzling into her scarf and tucking her hands under her armpits. The breath she exhaled turned into visible mist, fading into the icy air.

A smirk grew on Bill’s face, and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Does all that thinkin’ have to do with a certain Captain?”

Her cheeks warmed at the implication, and she groaned, trying to walk off from him. “Bill, come on! First George, now you?”

He laughed, a hearty and comforting sound amidst the cold surroundings. ”Ahh come on, (y/n/n). You know we won’t say nothin’.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Seeking some respite from the chill, they gathered around a burning pit of gasoline. The flames flickered, casting a warm glow that provided some relief from the biting cold. (Y/n)’s fingers tingled with warmth as she extended them toward the fire, her squadmates gathering around for the shared heat.

Amidst the crackling of the fire, the distant rumble of a vehicle approached and grabbed (y/n)’s attention. Her eyes caught Lew’s familiar figure hopping out of a jeep with Dick.

“Wait right here. Don’t go anywhere,” he ordered the driver, clipboard in hand. Their eyes met, and his gaze conveyed a mix of worry, silently acknowledging the danger ahead and reassuring her in the same breath. Despite the cold, there was a flicker of warmth in those eyes. He nodded in her direction, his unspoken message clear: important matters awaited him with Colonel Sink.

She watched as he and Dick were soon engrossed in a rapid conversation with Sink, pouring over maps of their upcoming objective. For the second time in the last ten minutes, she was pulled from her thoughts by someone calling her name. This time it was Babe.

“Hey Bill, (y/n), Don. Come here, look at this.”

The trio looked at each other worriedly, following Babe to the main road. The sight that met their eyes was nothing short of harrowing.

There were bloody and worn soldiers as far as the eye could see, limping from the very place Easy was being sent to. Their faces were either blank or etched with pain and fear, their movements sluggish, uniforms stained with the evidence of the brutal battle they endured.

“What the…” Bill’s voice trailed off. They stood there, silent, their minds struggling to comprehend what was before them.

The only sounds that pierced the grim silence were the haunting echoes of boots on frozen ground and the heart-wrenching cries and groans of the wounded.

“What the hell is going on?” Malarkey whispered, his eyes focused on the battered soldiers.

Bill reached out and grabbed a soldier by the arm. “Hey, pal, what happened? Where the hell are you going?”

The man’s face showed pure exhaustion, and his words were weak as he spoke. “They came out of nowhere. They slaughtered us. You gotta get out of here.”

Babe appeared over Bill’s shoulder, a look of helplessness on his face. “We just got here.”

The soldier stared at them blankly for a moment before Bill grabbed his ammo bag. “Give me your ammo. Come on.”

“Take it. You’ll need it,” the man mumbled.

Nausea rose up (y/n)’s throat as she watched on. It had started as a subtle discomfort, a gnawing unease that intensified with each passing moment. The sight of the battered soldiers had churned her insides, triggering an avalanche of emotions she struggled to contain.

As the procession of soldiers unfolded before her, the sheer gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her heart. Their bloodied and worn forms, their haunted expressions, the desperate cries for help…they all combined to create a suffocating atmosphere, and the impact hit her like a physical blow.

She felt her muscles tense in protest, and the stench of fear and blood, mingling with the acrid smell of gasoline and gunpowder, only served to intensify the waves of nausea. With a choked gasp, she staggered backwards, her other hand instinctively reaching for her helmet, tearing it off just as she emptied her stomach onto the ground behind her.

Time seemed to blur, and she was vaguely aware of a presence beside her, a comforting hand rubbing her back gently. In the darkness threatening to pull her under, she clung to the soothing touch to ground her.

Once finished, she braced her hands on her knees, concentrating on the calming touch rather than the burn she felt in her throat. A canteen was moved into her line of vision, and she took it quickly. (Y/n) rinsed her mouth with water, spitting the residual bile and taking deep breaths to steady herself.

“Thanks, Lew,” she whispered hoarsely, holding out the canteen. “I’m glad this was water, for once.”

“Yeah,” he gruffed, pushing it back to her, urging her to take another sip. “You alright?”

“These men…,” she began, standing up slowly. “They’ve been through hell.”

His worried eyes watched her as she looked out at the sea of bloody and exhausted men. “I know,” he paused, doing the same. “Come on, we got some ammo.”

(Y/n) followed him as he quickly made his way to a table with a few crates of ammo. Everyone around her stuffed their pockets with as much as they could, and she was no exception. They needed as much as they could get. Her mind drifted to ammo, then to the cold, then to the scarf around her neck…Lew’s scarf. Did he ever find anything?

She turned to Lew with frantic eyes, scanning his figure for any cold weather gear. “Did you find anything?”

He hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not to lie. Seeing her concerned face, he decided against telling her the truth. “Yes, they’re on the jeep. But I did find you these,” he whispered, discreetly sliding her a pair of gloves under the table.

“No,” she protested, pushing them back gently. “I’m not taking-”

Lew shook his head, a faint, reassuring smile on his lips. “Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes. That’s an order, corporal,” he said, nudging the gloves toward her with a smirk. “You’re so stubborn, woman. Just take the damn gloves.”

Reluctantly, she accepted them and slipped them on slowly, savoring the warmth they provided. “I hate you,” she muttered, returning to the table to get more ammunition. “And I hate it when you pull rank.”

Lew rolled his eyes playfully, his voice a tender murmur meant for her ears alone. “I love you, too.”

After a moment, he reached out and gently pulled her to face him. He leaned in close, his voice a soft caress among the tension in the air. “Keep your head down, alright?”

Their proximity sent a heat wave through her, and she felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. Suddenly aware of the closeness, he cleared his throat and took a subtle step back, eyes glancing around them for onlookers.

A sigh escaped her lips as she looked up at him, the worry evident in her eyes. “I will. Where will you be?”

“Most likely a little behind the line with Dick,” he replied, his gaze briefly shifting to the ground. “I won’t be far.”

A wave of concern washed over her. “You be careful, too. I can’t ha-”

“Don’t worry about me,” he interjected, adjusting her helmet with a determined air. “You know I’ll manage.”

“Lewis, will yo-”

Lieutenant Dike’s sharp voice pierced the air, cutting through their conversation abruptly. “Easy Company! Move out!”

(Y/n) took a steadying breath, closing her eyes momentarily to gather her resolve. When she opened them, Lew was watching her intently with an expression she hadn’t quite seen before. It had a blend of adoration and worry, unlike anything she’d witnessed in Paris or the camp's chaos. His eyes seemed to whisper, “You’re strong, and I’ve got your back.”

George called her name from a distance, but her eyes remained locked on Lew’s. He nodded once, a subtle reassurance that said it was okay. With a shaky smile, she turned and joined Luz and her squad, stepping into the path toward Bastogne.

Nixon’s eyes followed (y/n) as she melded into the sea of soldiers on their way to the town. Her familiar figure seemed to blur into the collective form of Easy Company. The air was alive with the charged energy of soldiers readying for battle, but Lewis Nixon felt a sudden stillness within him, a sharp awareness that it was her first time in combat after being hit.

A shiver ran down his spine, an icy finger tracing the contours of his thoughts. The weight of impending danger settled like a stone in the pit of his stomach. His fists clenched involuntarily, nails digging into his palm. He wanted to reach out, to call her back, to hold her close and promise safety, but the harsh reality of war held him back. Each step she took away from his felt like an eternity, the silent ticking of a clock counting down to disaster.

As she blended into the crowd, her presence grew fainter like a flickering flame in the distance. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily to center his thoughts. The cacophony of soldiers, the shuffle of feet, the clinking of gear…all of it seemed to fade into the background as his mind flashed with all his memories of her. But as the seconds ticked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this battle, this path they were treading, would demand more than either of them could foresee.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out…

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 2 years

Text

Suptober 10 Oct.: Enchanted

"I asked Cas to marry me, and he said yes," Sam burst out.

deancas ust, Sam-n-Cas chaos friends 4ever

"I left you guys alone for ten minutes. Walked down to the car, got the freakin' lavender eye pillow – it was wedged under the back seat, thanks for asking – walked back. Not even ten minutes. Six, tops." Dean knew his blood pressure registered just shy of Massive Stroke and took a breath. "I trusted you to keep them from doing anything dumb."

Eileen narrowed her eyes at him and signed a number of things he didn't know how to translate, except she definitely ended it with, "...you shithead."

"Okay, okay, where are they?"

"Back here." Eileen sighed aloud. "Prepare yourself."

The cabin's wraparound porch overlooked a clear, burbling stream strewn with slate shards and red sassafras leaves shaken off the trees. Autumn presented such a spectacular landscape, such an idyllic respite, Dean desperately wanted to run off into the surrounding forest and just ignore everything else going on.

Instead, he tried to keep the brain-bending horror he felt from showing on his face.

"Dean!" Sam said, lit up like a sunrise. "Cas and I have some news."

He was seated on one of the wide window sills; Cas sat beside him, his hands in Sam's.

Dean felt a vein in his forehead start to throb.

"Oh, I'm too nervous," Sam said, looking away to capture Cas with his patented puppy eyes on full display. "You tell him."

Cas nodded and looked at Dean. Dean's ears filled with white noise, like a million bees had decided to swarm him.

"Dean. Dear Dean." Cas shook his head fondly. "You raised Sam as your own–"

"Well, that's an exagger–" Dean started.

"–and while it may seem old fashioned, I think I speak for us both when I say Sam and I would like your blessing."

Behind Dean, Eileen made a noise that sounded like a choked-off laugh-snort. He refused to engage.

"Cas, what are you talking about?" Dean asked slowly. Calmly. Kindly, even.

Cas looked at Sam all bashful like, and Sam bit his lip. His dimple showed, for pete's sake.

"I asked Cas to marry me, and he said yes," Sam burst out.

Eileen was making a very undignified series of muffled honks at this point. Dean glared at her and she started giggle-crying behind her hands. After a few seconds, she was able to sign, "I'm so happy for you guys," at Sam, who absolutely beamed with delight.

"I know this is happening quickly," Cas said, standing to, Dean supposed, make his case more pointedly. "But Sam and I, well – we’ve loved each other for a long time, and it's just, we're ready. We'd be so honored if you'd be a part of our wedding party."

"Party?" Dean managed to say. Hornets were stinging him in the eardrums, the throat.

"Tomorrow at two," Sam said. "I'll text Jody and Donna and Garth–"

"Should we go ahead and call the bakery we passed in town?" Cas asked him. "We could order one of those gluten-free vegan pumpkin rolls–"

"Ooh, with the coconut," Sam said, all smiles.

"Please stop," Dean whispered. He couldn't seem to move.

Eileen slapped his arm. Cas and Sam, besotted with one another, cuddled on the windowsill as Cas looked up the bakery's number on his phone. Eileen jerked her head in the opposite direction and led Dean to the far end of the porch.

"What the hell happened?" Dean hissed while trying to sign.

"We misread the steps." Eileen grimaced. "The blood should have been the fifth ingredient added. I think." She made a Whoops! kind of expression.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "So they're…this, instead of able to unlock the suspicious warlock box from the crime scene."

Eileen gestured theatrically at Sam and Cas. "Love is love, Dean." She hid another laugh when Dean growled at her.

"How do we fix it? Lavender, I hope?"

"Ah!" Eileen grabbed up the dusty old spellbook with the broken spine and distressing scent of decay hanging around it. (Dean was never letting Sam wander into a used bookstore by himself ever again.) She pointed to the last paragraph on a page where someone had scratched in notes in an unstable ink. "More blood."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he saw Cas push a lock of Sam's hair gently behind his ear, and Sam looked at Cas like…like… Like he found him to be the most enchanting creature he had ever beheld.

If they were truly in love, Dean thought, eyes prickling, or if they've been in love all along–

Eileen slapped something into his hand: a 21-gauge needle she'd fished out of the big weird bag Sam always carried anymore for witchy things.

"I don't trust you with a knife right now," she told Dean. "No offense."

In the kitchen at the front of the cabin, Sam was saying something to Eileen like, "I am so, so sorry. Why are you laughing?"

"He isn't the only one who feels embarrassed," Cas said gruffly. He stood at the end of the couch and waited. "May I?"

Dean glugged down half a bottle of beer and wiped his mouth. "Sit anywhere you like." He shrank into his corner of the couch a little more and picked at the band-aid covering the tiny puncture wound from the needle, and the longest, most awkward minute of his recent life ticked by in silence.

"I hope it goes without saying," Cas began.

"You can just–" Dean didn't look at him. "No explanations needed."

"Well, good." Cas was quiet for another interminable minute that casually chewed at Dean's brain like a parasite. "I do need you to know something."

Dean made himself look at him. Looked into his best friend's beautiful, earnest eyes. It was difficult not to blurt out everything Dean wasn't supposed to say or feel, for his best friend and to his best friend. He swallowed, and nodded for Cas to continue.

"I would never make you eat gluten-free vegan cake, Dean," Cas said.

Dean wondered if he could use his own skull to open up the warlock box.

#suptober22 #deancas #destiel #spn #fic #snippetfic #suptober

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monstersinthecosmos · 8 months

Note

I am sooo happy I sent that ask!! Your reply was everything I could have wished for and more. I didn’t know anything about the VC universe (I did see the movie adaptation as a kid, but all I could remember were the ~vibes), and now I might actually want to check out the books. I mean I can’t believe how much of it is canon LOL, traumatized kinky asexual vampires wtf? sign me up??? Which book(s) of the series would you recommend to me? :o

In the meantime, I will DEFINITELY be giving your VC fics a try, thank you so much for the pointers!!! I’m already weak just reading your reply, esp. that parallel of post-disaster Armand and Marius being kind of like an AU where Shiro *does* give up on Keith - that actually broke me. A lot of what I love about your fics is how you characterize Keith so realistically and in a way that’s meaningfully informed by his upbringing/subsequent abandonment issues and that’s a thrill to read because, well, it’s just good writing - but also because it makes so much sense, not just abstractly but in a very real and personal way. And while the ~relatability~ of it all makes for a super intense reading experience, it can also be weirdly and sometimes incredibly cathartic imo - which is one of the reasons why I think I keep revisiting your fics (sorry if tmi LOL 😭). But!! In the case of Sheith it more or less all works out in the end because, like you said, it’s such a wholesome ship and they love and prioritize each other so much that (as a reader) they’re kinda like a safe space, delectably complete with all the angst and hurt and fuckedupness of their circumstances/selves (you know, for flavor). However, thinking about a timeline where it does NOT all more or less work out, well that’s kinda super heartwrenching! But yummy? And I kinda can’t wait to get into it but I’m also genuinely scared for my heart LMAO. Anyway I’m sorry for rambling!!! With your permission I will definitely come back and scream about Sheith and vampires because I sorta already am lol.

Re: the teaser xmgdknfnrmsmgdk I can’t even gather enough brain cells to form coherent sentences, I’m just squealing and awaiting my resurrection I guess. Thank you sooo so so much! I got so excited I haven’t even been able to finish reading it 🫣😳😵😵😵

!!!!! Thank you again for such a thoughtful and delicious response! <3

Dgahskjdl g GOSH THANK YOU AGAIN

So this post got really long I’m so sorry asdghkads TLDR: I recommend all of them but I also don’t LMAO and you can skip around and won’t be confused but it will spoil stuff. This is a LOADED QUESTION.

It’s wild like I was thinking about the fic i could stop dreaming and also just in general AGAIN IF WE CAN TALK ABOUT COMMON SHEITH TROPES/FANON like I’ve read many S8 fix-its where Keith is drifting around and he’s just like so cold and broken and empty!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And that’s how Armand feels to me! Even a fic like heart nailed open where Keith is just so fucking empty! Or SOURCE DECAY??????? Like I think there’s tons of Sheith AUs or S8 fics where Keith is like Depressed Guy Keith and !!!!!! God it fucks me up lol. Armand is kinda like if Depressed Guy Keith was also like a 500 year old fucking weirdo.

And like BECAUSE they’re vampires and they’re immortal they’re sort of always coming in and out of each other’s lives so like there’s always a hypothetical future where they can work it out. Like i could stop dreaming is about them working it out, right? And what it would take to heal that injury. And there’s a lot of stuff in canon where these characters commit absolute fucking atrocities to each other and still manage to work it out and I think it’s again just an exercise in empathy and asking if we can still deserve love when we’ve fucked up. The characters have CENTURIES to get over stuff (and some of them STILL DON’T LOL) but sometimes they do. Famously & without spoiling too much of IWTV, Armand does something pretty fucking atrocious to Louis and they still have a long relationship and still love each other very much!!!

But ON THE QUESTION OF WHICH BOOKS, jfc hold my beer

I think in Sheith you see people like almost universally dismiss S8; the only fics I ever see of it really are like just gratuitous whump or fix-its LOL which is valid. And VC has FIFTEEN FUCKING BOOKS and you could honestly ask ANY fan in VC which books “count” and which books are skippable and I think everyone has a different answer.

I also think you can read them out of order and there’s always a little bit of exposition to catch you up so you won’t be lost; the only downside is that you’ll get spoiled on the previous book. For example, if you jumped in and read Armand’s book first, it would make sense, but it would spoil what happened at the end of the book before it.

Also to get the movies & show out of the way because it’s faster than committing to fifteen books:

The 1994 movie is a pretty solid adaptation; you can tell they condensed some details for time or whatever but it’s pretty faithful. There’s also the show that came out last year which is …………….. not so faithful lol. The show also heavily focuses on Lestat & Louis which is the juggernaut ship of the fandom but they’re also like the missionary position of the fandom so who the fuck cares lol. (Loustat fans lurking in this extremely niche post I am so sorry, I'm kidding ilu LMAO it's just not my thing!) And tbh the show wrote Armand & Daniel’s characters SO POORLY it like absolutely killed any motivation I had to continue watching so as an Armand stan I can’t really recommend it but it’s kinda like silly and fun if you don’t take it too seriously. And tbh if this entire fact finding mission is to understand VC more, the show literally changes EVERYTHING; it changes the time period, it changes the lore, it changes the story, it changes the character ages, etc. Basically it just kept the names lol. It's a completely different canon so I think even show fics & book fics aren't compatible either.

There’s also a movie of Queen of the Damned from 2002 which is like SO BAD LMAO but also silly fun. It’s a really bad adaptation but I’d put it in between the movie and the show. Marius is in it and the characterization is really strange LMAO. Armand is an extra.

The thing about VC is that it’s very sort of like non-linear and nontraditional storytelling. Most of the books are narrated by Lestat but several of them are narrated by random other people, and a lot of times the same story is retold through other people’s POVs. Like you get the story about Marius & Armand in three different books and each version is a little different because everyone has a different perspective. And regarding reading out of order and having spoilers, I do think it often creates like a suspense vs surprise element because we circle back and revisit the same stories so many times; you might get a spoiler and read a book knowing that a certain thing is going to happen and there’s still the tension of waiting for it to happen haha. Like when I mentioned the cult raids Marius’s house—you learn about that in Book 2 so you read Armand’s book later going into detail about his life and you’re just SWEATING because you know it’s coming. AND THEN YOU READ ABOUT IT IN MARIUS'S BOOK AND YOU'RE JUST DEVASTATED ONCE MORE.

I will say that for me I always recommend just fucking read them lol. Just read all of them. LOL!! But they’re weird and like, you’re gonna hate some of them, but I don’t think you can take someone’s word for it on Tumblr, it must be experienced. But I do understand that it’s a lot of material to get through and so I can give a fair cheat guide I think.

Most fans agree that the first three books (“The Trilogy”!) are solid and worth reading. Those are Interview with the Vampire, The Vampire Lestat, and The Queen of the Damned. IWTV is like this gloomy gothic tome about Louis’s life that started this whole thing and was written as a conversation about grief because Anne Rice’s daughter had died. It absolutely reads like a book someone writes about their daughter dying and it’s REALLY beautiful but it’s also a bit dense at times. If you’re put off by the vibe IT GETS EASIER when Lestat shows up because he literally bursts into the series like Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way ready to like tell you how blonde he is and how he’s gonna fuck everyone’s lives up. The books are still very heavy on existential questions and angst and grief but the text gets a bit lighter and super absurd LOL.

The first three also establish the universe and lore, though, so I think it would give you a pretty solid foundation to understand that type of stuff.

After the trilogy the books just go off the rails like there’s a few about Lestat having stupid adventures and doing dumb shit, there’s a few that cross over with Anne Rice’s witch series (so add three more book so if you truly wanted to read all of them!), then Anne Rice went back to the church and stopped writing vampires so there’s a huge gap, and then she quit the church again and returned LMAO. There’s a final trilogy she wrote before she died that are like, not the heaviest reading and they’re just kinda like silly good times with lots of Easter eggs and fan service. I feel good about the final trilogy being how it ended, just really silly times about them trying to use iPhones and shit, completely wild.

As far as ARMAND CONTENT THOUGH.

Armand does feature heavily in the trilogy so that’s also a good Armand foundation. And it’s REALLY FUN because he shows up in IWTV as sort of a chill mentor to Louis, but then in TVL you get the story about how Lestat met him when he was still in the cult and he was a feral little monster!!! And I love the duality of how Lestat and Louis describe him!!! It’s framed as unreliable narration a lot of the time because like Lestat’s resentment & Louis’s respect for Armand absolutely color the way they describe him, but idk like 100 years go by in between the two meetings so you also see a lot of character growth and see how Armand is doing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God. My heart.

Anne Rice also very often uses like texts inside texts so like, IWTV literally is an interview with a vampire where the bulk of the book is in quotes as dialogue LOL and then in other books you often meet a character who will talk for like 40 pages at a time to tell a story. So in TVL when Lestat meets Armand, Armand takes over for a chapter and tells the story of his life, and then later he meets Marius and Marius ALSO tells the story of his life.

QOTD is a modern story (modern in the 1980s when it was written haha) about how the whole vampire world has to deal with Lestat’s bullshit and they all come together for a common cause. This book features the little novelette about Armand & Daniel as one of the chapters!! It’s so good!! (The chapter is called The Devil's Minion and basically if you needed to understand Armand & Daniel you could just read that one chapter and that's basically it bc then it goes to shit!!! Not to spoil anything but also don't get your hopes up about like heaps and heaps of ship content because there isn't any lmfao fml)

It also features Marius and Armand reuniting with each other after 500 years!!!!!!!! HEARTBREAKING! It’s really good and very preposterous but the writing is so lush and takes itself so seriously you kinda forget that it’s preposterous.

Armand has a POV book later in the series, it’s called The Vampire Armand, it details his life as a human and some of his early years as a vampire with Marius. IT’S SORT OF LIKE A LONG EXTENDED VERSION OF HIS CHAPTER IN TVL.

I do want to say that regarding the BDSM and whatnot that I mentioned; this book is quite controversial because there’s not good BDSM etiquette LOL and like part of the genius of this book is that it can be read as abuse, even when Armand isn’t setting out to tell you the story of how he was abused. I have a lot of thoughts about this because Anne Rice was also an erotica writer and her erotica books were all noncon BDSM; I WROTE ABOUT IT HERE I DON’T WANT TO GET INTO IT NOW but I think depending how people go into this book they either see the kink & sex stuff as explicit abuse OR you can read it as like, fantasy from a porn writer. As a Sheith fan I’m going to assume you’re not that sensitive lol. (But also por que no los dos, that's the flavor baby!)

Personally I think you could read this book as a standalone and like, it’ll be a little whacky without context, but I think I’ve given you a lot of context. It’s basically about his sad sad life, the religious trauma, and all the freaky sex he had. (Also just so you’re not disappointed, the sex isn’t graphic haha but he’ll be like “And then I went to the brothel and they licked honey off my nipples and I came home and Marius sucked my dick in the bathtub” but not like crazy sex scenes.)

Marius also has a POV book called Blood & Gold and it’s my favorite in the series!! IT’S MARIUS’S LONG EXTENDED VERSION OF HIS TVL CHAPTER. I think it’s the one that handles IMMORTALITY the best; the other books often focus on a short period of time or a specific incident and don’t often span someone’s ENTIRE life. IWTV spans Louis’s entire life but he’s only like 200 years old. Marius is 2,000!!!! He’s from the Roman Empire!! So like it’s really exciting to me to read about his whole life and all the eras he lived through!!!!!!!!!!!!

In his book you also get a few chapters about his time with Armand and it breaks my heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There’s also a third secret option which is the book Pandora which isn’t part of the main series; VC is like actually 13 books and 2 side books? LOL So Pandora is one of the side books. But she was the first vampire that Marius made and they were lovers for like 200 years. This book to me feels like Anne Rice had a lot of leftover historical research and wanted to park it somewhere so a lot of the text is her talking about history stuff but there’s really great Marius content here and Marius/Pandora is one of my fav ships.

A lot of the fandom are more into the original trilogy and the Lestat/Louis content but I’m all about Marius so I’m into the DARK TRIAD of The Vampire Armand/Blood & Gold/Pandora. This to me is the more interesting section of the series but it’s an unpopular opinion so don’t take my word for it.

Other than that I’d also say Memnoch the Devil is my absolute least favorite VC, I think it’s so weird and boring lol but there’s some absolutely incredible Armand stuff in it and the stuff Armand does in this will be spoiled immediately if you check out Pandora or TVA. All in all it’s like idk 10 fucking pages of Armand LOL so if you got an ebook you could probably word search him. BUT YKNOW WHAT? Again don’t take someone’s word for it from Tumblr because like I find this book very weird and boring because it’s the most religious and I was raised atheist; there are people who were raised religious and say this one is their favorite. So what the fuck do I know!

Marius & Armand & Daniel are all in the final trilogy as well if you make it that far. Daniel is sort of always shuffled to the side because Anne Rice didn't care about him so like every time Daniel shows up I like feast on the breadcrumbs LOL but I'm glad to get some context about how he's doing and what's going on with his life.

ANYWYA I’M NOT SURE IF THIS ANSWERS THE QUESTION OR MAKES IT MORE CONFUSING LOL but ! ?!

They’re very weird books, they’re also kinda outdated and racist, but very queer, beautiful prose, incredible characters. They were my first hyperfixation that I can never seem to shake even when I’ve done all the work to dismantle all the ways they’re problematic and imperfect, it’s just yknow sometimes something gets its claws in you LOL. And I go out and explore other fandoms and still always come back to Marius and Armand and Daniel lol. I say that to say I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t like them LOL but don’t judge me if you give it a shot and you’re like “what the fuck is this”

I just think Armand is like the most incredible character of all time okay!

SORRY FOR THIS VERY LONG REPLY LOL love you, patience yields focus!

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vickyvicarious · 11 days

Text

Lately I'm totally stuck on the song Wax & Wane by Alana Henderson. I love it.

And the more I listen to it, the more I keep thinking of Marcille. (I feel like it'd be great for a fanvid of her, particularly when the entire series is animated.) But regardless, I can line it up so well with her story, so I just wanna ramble a bit about the lyrics now.

Under the cut for spoilers for the whole manga and length.

The song's clearly originally about a het relationship breaking up, but I don't have to interpret it that way! It gets better for her the further in the song you get, in my opinion.

I could blame our partin’ For the fact that I’m not startin’ All my mornings at the time they ought to start And I could summon up a sisterhood Cry lead me out of widowhood But that is melodrama on my part

Least fitting lines in at the beginning, but you could still sort of make them work in a fanvid at least, with slow reaction/not being ready or prepared, being caught off guard, being dramatic and then taking it back every time with food. It makes me think more of lighthearted stuff mostly, though also perhaps with Falin's original death scene maybe?

I could blame my grieving On the fact that I’ve been leaving Us behind, the ones we were when this began But I have rose-tinted us ruby And I’ve conjured up a new me Who bent freely to her newly molded man

Marcille remembering dead Falin and also her father can be the 'rose-tinted' and the newly-molded man could sorta be the life she leads now. In a sense, she's idealized both of them and their happy times with her, without being willing to linger on the negatives. Even though those drive her completely.

But we bent and we broke and I meant what I spoke And the blame game does not produce a winner We went as far as we could go, we had to go that far to know That we had nowhere left to aim And no one left to blame but The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide

This refrain matches so well with the dungeon living pushing her (and all of them, but her especially as this is her song to me) to her limits and beyond as they go deeper. I picture this first refrain as earlier, the first effort to go back and get Falin back, and succeeding but only briefly.

And I could blame my parents For my vices so inherent That I cannot shake them much as I may try But how much have I inherited Or picked up since I was a kid? That nature versus nurture paradigm I could blame wrong turns that I take On decisions that my head makes Then trace each error right back to my heart And is it broken ‘cause you toyed with it Or was it formed with a little split That grows each year further and further apart

My favorite Marcille verse. It matches so well to her grief (often in advance) for her loved ones' shorter lifespans, and the way she never fit in growing up. Is the enormity of this desire due to her parents giving her this half-elf life, or is it her own personality focusing on it too much by dedicating herself to studying to 'fix' it? Is her heart broken because Falin died too, or is this something that's always been building, only increasing the more she pursues this path... (Stuff like the nightmare attack, or that one scene where she has to animate everyone with necromancy and it's funny up until you see her break down after and realize how terrible that would have been for Marcille in particular...) But we love and we lose and we lash-out and we bruise And the name of the game’s just the living We go as far as we can go we’ve got to go that far to know That we have everything to gain By knowing we can blame The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide

You have to eat to live! Pushing further into the dungeon! This time around I see it as much later scenes, as they work to get monster!Falin back. Even when that means going against other people, even when it means planning on (arguable?) cannibalism, etc.

And so I look to Karma And if I try not to harm another I will not be harmed by anything

This one bit actually really makes me think of Falin, but it also in a way matches a more naive earlier mentality, before the various characters all accept that in order to live they have to eat (and thus hurt other things). Not to mention, it leads in well to Marcille becoming the dungeon master because she wants to protect her friends and also wants to extend everyone's lifespans. She doesn't want to cause any harm, at least in her eyes. But it rapidly goes wrong throughout the rest of the verse:

If I salute the magpie, knock on wood Will I be doing any good? Am I strung up or do I pull the string? Will the fact I cling too tightly To my dreams come back and bite me Am I trying to make a science of an art? And will the very fate I wish to woo Be the one that I undo By thinking I can steer this crazy cart

Dungeon master Marcille here! It's perfect for all of those parts of her story. Getting the power to control things on such a huge scale, but being manipulated and lacking control over herself. Her dreams and desires overtaking her, leading to destruction, the warped version of her father and life with her friends that are offered to her. Her efforts to try and steer it...

But I’ll live and I’ll learn And I’ll light and I’ll burn ’Til the flame simmers down to a spark I’ll go as far as I can go I’ve to go that far to know that I have everything to gain By knowing I can’t train The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide

And then the endgame! She struggles to get it back, to undo what has begun. Her friends reaching out to her and her realizing this is as far as she can go, pushing too far was wrong. Accepting the possibility of Falin's death being permanent, accepting death in general. The lingering changes pointing out ways they didn't and couldn't achieve everything they wanted, like Falin's legs, Laios's inability to get close to monsters, Marcille's loss of the desire to do her hair. I never said it was your fault I only wanted to blame someone I never said it was your fault I only wanted to blame someone The moon’s wax and wane and the turn of the tide

And the final refrain is more of that acceptance. Marcille didn't precisely want to place 'blame' but she wanted to see it as a problem that she could fix, rather than accepting life and death (which = the moon's wax and wane and the turn of the tide).

#music #dungeon meshi #marcille donato #this song is stuck in my head so bad i love it. and i cannot stop thinking of marcille every time now #not at first but the more i listened the more i was linking it to her #i gotta blab about it to get it out of just my head

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

Text

Where Have You Been: A Drabble Me This Story

Series: Drabble Me This

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Riley x Max , Riley x ?

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Mature Themes

Word Count: 2,348

A/N: So I broke my own self imposed word limit on my very first one. Shhh, we'll pretend this counts as a drabble.

My other stuff: Master List.

From @kingliam2019

Ask: I would love to see Riley leave broken hearted 💔. Marry someone else. Both Liam and Drake find her with Maxwell 's kid and bring her home to him. As a result his heath has declined. Drinking, smoking, eating and nasty to everyone.

“Brooks? Is that you?”

My heart both soars and plummets as the voice reaches out from the past and snakes around my heart. His voice brings with it so many memories, both good and bad. I turn reluctantly around, “Hey Drake.”

“Riley! It is you!” There are tears in his eyes, I have no idea why. We weren’t that close. He wasn’t the one that had my heart. There was a kiss or two, but nothing came from it. He never really let me in. I refuse to fight for access to anyone.

Before I can react, he’s bound across the food court and swept me into his arms. “Oh.” Is all I can think to say.

“Liam! Get over here!” He calls over his shoulder.

“Oh, no, I-“

But it’s too late, the fucking king of Cordonia is sweeping me into his arms in the middle of a food court in a shopping mall on a Tuesday afternoon. It’s surreal. How are they even here? I don’t believe either one of them has ever sat foot inside a mall before.

“Riley! It’s really you!” Liam is having the same emotional reaction Drake had.

I return his hug then pull away in confusion, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you!” Liam exclaims, and he sounds like a kid on Christmas morning.

My eyes dart to Drake who nods his head in confirmation. I have never been so confused in my life, “Why?”

“Why?” Drake looks astonished.

“To bring you home, of course!” Liam says.

“Uh….what do you mean home?” I ask.

“Ramsford.” He replies and my body starts to shake. I can’t go back there.

“It’s ok, Riley.” Max holds me in his arms just hours after the fiasco at Liam’s coronation, “We’re going to clear your name, you and Liam can still be together, this can be fixed!”

I draw away from him and look up into his face, his expression so open, so caring and I tell him, “I know I’m supposed to be destroyed right now, Max, but I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“You’re in shock, blossom, that’s all, you need a good night’s sleep and-“

“No, Max.” I stop him as he tries to step away from me, “Do you want to know what I’m feeling right now?”

“What?” He peers down at me curiously.

“Relief.” I tell him.

His brows draw together in puzzlement, “Relief? I don’t understand….”

“I don’t love, Liam, Max. Hell, I don’t even know him! We’ve barely spent five minutes together since I got here. And all the questions from the press, the council, the king and queen….the whole process feels more a like a job interview than a courtship.”

“But…” He still looks confused, “You came here for Liam, to see if the connection you two clearly shared could be anything.”

“I did. But it couldn’t. It was a spark that fizzled quickly in the real world. Liam’s world. I don’t belong in it.”

“Where do you belong, blossom?” Is that hope I see in his eyes?

“Riley, are you ok? Drake, get her a chair!”

Drake drags a chair over and Liam helps me into it. He takes my hand as he’s lowering me into the seat and freezes when he sees the wedding ring on my left ring finger. “Riley?”

“What?” I lift my head and look up into his questioning eyes as I try to slow my breathing.

“Your married?” He steps back from me.

“I….” My eyes fly down to my ring finger as I stutter out a response, “Y…yes.”

It’s not what you think.

“To who?” Drake demands.

Before I can answer the sound of a baby crying cuts the air. My head spins around as my nanny approaches, “I’m so sorry, miss, I tried to calm him, but he only wants you!”

“It’s ok, Maria.” I tell her as I take my son, “Come here little one, mommas got you.”

“Oh, wow.” Drake breaths out.

“This…this is a lot.” Liam pulls over another chair and sinks into it.

“Brooks.” Drake’s tone is low, serious, beseeching, I look up into his copper colored eyes and raise my eyebrow. He continues, “None of this matters right now. Max needs you. Please, I’m begging you, and I don’t beg. Just come with us, talk to him.”

“I…can’t.”

“He’s not right without you, Riley.” Drake says, “He’s been drinking, gambling, drugs, it’s not good…he’s pretty broken.”

“The baby…is he Max’s?” Liam asks gently, “Don’t you think he has the right to know?”

“He knows!” I snap, “And he doesn’t want us!”

Liam shakes his head, “He doesn’t know. He would have told us! And he definitely wants you!”

“He knows…I heard him!”

Drake and Liam exchange a look then Drake bends down and looks into my eyes, “Could you tell us what you heard?”

I stare at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. I’m elated! I can’t wait to tell Max; he’s going to be so excited!

It’s the second test I’ve taken. I wanted to be sure. I’ve been tied up in knots for two days worried Max would find the first test before I had verified with the second test. I don’t want to get his hopes up.

I make my way through the estate and stop outside the casual sitting room. He’s on the phone. I don’t want to interpret. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I’m brought up short as I hear him telling someone, “I don’t know how parents do it! I’m nowhere near ready to be a father!”

He’s not ready? How does he know? He must have found the first test after all.

“Of course, I’ll cover everything the baby needs, the Beaumont’s always meet their financial obligations.”

He thinks our baby in an obligation?

“I think Paris is a wonderful city to raise a child in!”

He’s sending us away?

I turn away from the door before he sees me, tears pouring down my face and I hurry back to my room to pack. I have to leave.

I blink away my tears as I finish my story, I look at them both, they exchanged worried glances.

“Brooks,” Drake reaches out and wipes away a tear from my face, “You must have heard him talking to Savannah.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Savannah. My sister. She was pregnant with Bertrand’s baby. There was a misunderstanding and she mistakenly thought he didn’t want to be with her, so she left. She told Max and he was supporting her, sending her money, to Paris, where she and the baby were living at the time.”

Shock courses through me. Is it possible that the whole thing is a misunderstanding? I stand up abruptly, “Take me to him now!”

Four hours later we arrive at Ramsford.

“Lady Riley? Drake? King Liam? What are you doing here?” Bertrand looks stunned as he lets us in, “I mean, I’m so sorry, Your Majesty, come in! Come in!”

“We need to see Maxwell, is he home?” Liam asks, ever polite. I’m already charging for the stairs.

I burst through the door to his room without knocking. I stop, the sight that meets my eyes shocks me. The room, usually so neat and tidy is in disarray. There are empty vodka bottles everywhere. Old food and dirty clothes litter the floor.

“Go away!” A voice yells from under the covers, “I told the other maid I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t care how dirty Bertrand says it is! It’s my room and I want to be left alone!”

The last word is punctuated by a vodka bottle flying across the room and crashing against the far wall.

“Max?” I ask tentatively.

“Riley?” The body in the bed sits straight up. “Blossom? Is that really you?”

“It’s me.” I tell him as I cross the room and fling myself onto the bed and into his arms.

His arms circle me as tears start to fall from his eyes. “You’re here? You’re really back? Where did you go? Why did you leave me?”

“I…I thought you didn’t want me…us.”

He stops crying to look at me in perplexment, “Us? And of course I want you! I’ve never wanted anything more!”

“So you really didn’t know?”

“Know what? Riley, I have no idea what happened! One day we were happy and then suddenly you were just….gone!” Great, heaving sobs start again.

“You didn’t know about the baby?” I ask in a small voice. I tense myself for the answer.

“Baby?” He sounds genuinely bewildered, “What baby?”

Oh my god! Drake and Liam were right. He has no idea. I left. I left him for nothing! I burned us down, me, I did that! And for no reason at all!

As the reality sinks in, I crumple and sobs of my own tear forth from my throat. Suddenly I’m crying like the world has ended and I’m wrapped up in his arms as he comforts and soothes me. I broke his heart. And here he is, comforting me! Soothing me!

“Don’t cry, blossom, don’t be sad! Just tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll fix it!”

And just like that, I’m broken all over again. How can he be this good? And how could I have ever doubted his love? The enormity of what I’ve done washes over me and I cry harder.

I choke the story out haltingly through my tears. When I’m done, he stares at me in astonishment. “I have a son?”

I nod. I search his face, waiting for the anger, the recriminations, the well-deserved indignation. It doesn’t come.

Instead, his face softens, the brightness floods back into his eyes and a smile lights up his face. “You still love me?”

“I never stopped!”

He blows out a long breath as he holds me close. He looks down at me for a moment then he releases me and slides to the floor next to the bed.

I look at him in confusion, “What are you doing?”

“Marry me.”

“What?” A laugh escapes me despite the emotional turmoil of the day.

“I don’t want you to ever doubt my love again, I don’t want you to ever think you need to leave! This is your home. You are my home. Marry me!”

My hands fly to my mouth and that’s when he notices it. My wedding ring. All the light drains out of him. He gently takes my hand and runs a finger across the plain gold band. His voice is soft, but full of heartbreak, “Blossom?”

“I can explain!”

“Uh…sorry to interrupt.” Liam shifts uncomfortably in the doorway, “But the baby is crying.”

“The baby? He’s here?” A little of the light has returned to his eyes.

We make our way downstairs. A woman with long dark hair who bears a resemblance to Drake has calmed my son and is feeding him the bottle that was in his diaper bag. She greets me warmly and Drake introduces her as his sister, Bertrand’s wife.

“Oh, Riley, he’s beautiful!” Max breaths out as he takes his son in his arms for the first time.

“His name is Percival.” I say quietly, shyly, unsure if he’ll like it.

He looks up at me with tears in his eyes, “You named him after me?”

I nod. It’s Max’s middle name.

There’s a knock on the door. The butler ushers in the new visitor.

“Rashad!” Liam sounds surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Ah…” His eyes go to me then back before answering, “I came to collect my wife. The nanny told me where she went.”

A murderous expression flits through Max’s eyes. Everyone else is simply stunned.

“All this time?” Liam croaks.

“We’ve searched the fucking world for you.” Drake says to me, “And you never left Cordonia?”

“I wanted to stay here in case…in case Max ever changed his mind.” I drop my eyes to the floor.

Max hands Percy back to Savannah so he can tip my head back as he tells me, “Except that I never didn’t want you in the first place!”

His voice is full of anguish. I don’t deserve his forgiveness.

“Rashad, why didn’t you tell us?” Liam demands.

“I didn’t realize you were looking for her. I haven’t seen you since the social season, Liam. I’ve been quite busy.”

“Obviously.” Drake says drily.

“Why, Riley?” Max almost whispers, “Why did you marry him?”

I make eye contact with my husband before answering, “My visitor’s visa was expiring. I needed to stay in the country.”

“What are you saying?” Max asks. Is that hope I see in his eyes?

“I’m saying that I needed a way to stay in the country and Rashad gave it to me.”

Max looks at me with undisguised yearning, “So the marriage….”

“Isn’t real.” Rashad supplies, “She needed a legal way to stay, and I needed my parents off my back about marriage. Seemed like a win/win.”

“We’ve never slept together!” I blurt out, putting the elephant in the room to rest.

“Which makes an annulment very easily accomplished.” Rashad finishes with an understanding smile.

Max turns back to me hesitantly, “So…. What happens now?”

“Now?” I can’t help the smile that breaks out over my face, or the joy that bubbles over in my heart. I think I might explode from happiness. “Now I get an annulment and if you meant what you said earlier, Percy and I will be moving in immediately while you and I plan our wedding!”

“Really?” The sun rose again. The sparkle was back in his eyes, the flush was back in his cheeks and my insides melted into a warm, gooey mess.

“Really…if you’ll have me…”

“Are you kidding?” He chokes on a half laugh, half sob, “I clearly can’t function without you! My life isn’t worth living without you in it!”

Then I’m in his arms again, we’re hugging each other, we’re both laughing and we’re both crying and we’re both happy. And I’m finally right where I was always meant to be.

#drabble me this #angelasscribbles #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #trr #the royal romance #choices trr #trr fandom #trr fanfiction #trr fanfic #maxwell beaumont #angst #angst with a happy ending

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peavhyshy · 1 year

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𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 IV

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader

Summary: in which you have nothing better to do so you agree to join a group of dysfunctional superhero's.

Warnings: minor character death, violence, sadness

Words: 1,699

Series Masterlist

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 IV

act one, 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿

❝You have to be doing what you humans call "joking," right?❞

𝗬𝗢𝗨, 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘, 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗬 𝗦𝗣𝗟𝗜𝗧 𝗨𝗣 𝗦𝗢𝗢𝗡 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥, and you went to the bridge to see what was going on.

‘’Hill!’’ Through the comm, you heard Fury say.

‘’External denotation,’’ Hill replies. ‘’Number three engine is down.’’

As soon as you stepped onto the bridge, you saw people running around, yelling and grabbing guns, as monitors beeped repeatedly.

Maria led you to one of the agents, who said, ‘’Turbine looks mostly intact but it’s impossible to get out there to make repairs while we’re in air.’’

‘’We lose one more engine we won't be.’’Agent Hill spoke, her gaze fixed on you.

‘’Somebody’s got to get outside and patch that engine.’’

‘’Stark, you copy that?’’ Through the earpiece, Fury asked.

‘’I’m on it,’’ Tony replied.

‘’Coulson, initiate defensive lockdown in the detention section then get to the armory.’’ Fury ordered ‘’Romanoff?’’

‘’We’re okay.’’ Natasha responded.

Suddenly Fury ran in. ‘’Bring the carrier about to a 1-8-0, heading south!’’ He yelled. ‘’Take us to the water.’’

‘’We’re flying blind.’’ A pilot responded. ‘’Navigation’s recalibrating after the engine failure.’’

‘’Is the sun coming up?’’ Fury asked.

‘’Yes, sir.’’ The pilot answered.

‘’Then put us on the left,’’ As he pointed to the side, Fury ordered. ‘’Get us over water. One more turbine goes down, and we drop.’’

‘’We need full evac on the lower hangar bay.’’ Fury said.

Something rolled in front of you and Agent Hill, causing you both to turn and try to run as she yelled. ‘’Grenade!’’

It detonated before you and Agent Hill could go very far, sending you both over the railing.

You sat up as you heard Fury fire his weapon. You carefully rose up, leaped, and grasped the railing's highest bar before flinging yourself to the ground and conjuring a gun.

Fury dashed to the side of the door to surprise the approaching invaders, while you concealed on the other side. Before shooting another, Fury grabbed one of the guys walking in by his gun and knocked him unconscious.

One of the invaders tried to shoot Fury in the back from the door, but you leaped and flipped off the wall, elbowing the invader in the face. You snatched their feet from beneath them. And blasted a hole in the top of their skull from the bottom of their chin. You were crouched on the floor with the gun pointing to where you had fired the final shot. You flipped your hair back and checked your nails to ensure you hadn't broken any.

‘’We’ve got a hostile breach.’’ Through the comm, an agent said. ‘’Hostiles are in S.H.I.E.L.D gear. Hold on to every junction.’’

When you glanced back, you noticed more invaders approaching with guns drawn.

‘’We have Hulk and Thor on Research Level 4. Levels 2 and 3 are dark.’’ The agent continued.

‘’Sir, the Hulk will tear this place apart!’’ Maria shouted as you fired another bullet into the head of another man.

‘’Get his attention.’’ Fury said as he continued shooting.

Agent Hill paused her firing and turned around to observe you shooting the attackers. She pressed her earpiece and said.’’Escort 6-oh, proceed to Wishbone, and engage hostile. Don't get too close.’’

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗘𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗬 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘. On your approach to find them, the entire helicarrier began to tilt to one side. You hoisted yourself in the air with your wings to keep from collapsing as you resumed your long stroll back to the engine. You saw Steve crawling to a lever and a guy firing at him as you arrived. You used your powers to throw him against the wall. You approached him and gave him a sweet smile before stabbing him in the stomach and allowing him to bleed to death.

Looking up, you noticed Steve seated on the floor, staring at you with a faint exhausted grin on his face before lowering his head panting. Tony flew towards you and smashed into the doorway alongside you, where he sat exhausted.

As they both stood up, you noticed both Tony and Steve had bleak expressions on their faces.

‘’What happened?’’ You asked.

‘’Agent Coulson is dead...’’ While carefully touching you on the shoulder, Tony said.

‘’You have to be doing what you humans call "joking," right?'' Before turning to face Steve, you said while chuckling. "Steve, please tell me he's lying."

He couldn't possibly be dead, right? The only person who had ever cared for you, the one person who hadn't used you for your powers.

''He isn't lying, Y/N’’ Steve said while glancing down.

You closed your eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks, which you hurriedly wiped away before standing up and walking away with Steve and Tony close behind.

𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗫𝗖𝗘𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗔, you were all called to the main room.

‘’These were in Phil Coulson’s jacket.’’ After a brief pause, Fury spoke up, drawing everyone's attention.

He flipped through what was in his hands before he looked at Steve. ‘’I guess he never did get you to sign them.’’

Fury threw what he was flipping through on the table, and you recognized them as Phil's vintage card set. Your throat tightened as you stared at them, you let out a shaky breath before averting your gaze. As Fury began speaking again, Steve picked up one of them. ‘’We’re dead in the air up here. Our communications, the location of the Cube, Banner, Thor. I got nothing for you. I lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that one coming.’’

Fury paused and started walking around the table where you all were sitting. ‘’Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number, though, because I was playing on something ever risker.’’

‘’There was an idea, Stark and Y/N know this.’’ Fury said causing you and Tony to exchange glances. ‘’Called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more. To see if they work together when we needed them to, to fight battles that we never could.’’

Tony raised his head, as if ready to say something, but paused as Fury continued to talk. ‘’Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes.’’

Tony suddenly rose up and walked out, leaving you, Fury, and Steve behind.

‘’Well,’’ Fury spoke up looking at where Tony had left. ‘’It’s an old-fashioned notion.’’

You and Steve stepped into the detention section after Fury had finished talking and found Tony looking at the empty area where the cell used to be, engrossed in his thoughts and not seeing you and Steve standing there.

‘’Was he married?’’ Steve asked leaning on the railing.

‘’No,’’ Tony replied still staring at the empty space.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Steve said glancing at Tony before looking at you. ‘’He seemed like a good man.’’

‘’He was a good man... but he was also stupid.’’ You uttered it with a shake of your head, drawing Tony's attention.

‘’Why? For believing?’’ Steve asked frowning.

‘’For taking on Loki alone, knowing he couldn't handle it.’’ You answered.

‘’He was doing his job.’’ Looking at you, Steve said.

He was out of his league.’’ Tony said, attracting Steve's attention as he approached the area where Coulson died. ‘’He should have waited. He should have…’’

‘’Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony and Y/N,’’ Steve said walking towards Tony.

‘’Right, I’ve heard that before,’’ Tony remarked walking past Steve.

‘’Is this the first time you’ve lost a soldier?’’ Steve asked.

‘’We are not soldiers, If I wanted to be a soldier, I would just return home,’’ You stated while glaring at Steve.

‘’I agree with Y/N, I’m not marching to Fury’s fife’’ Tony said from next to you.

‘’Neither am I,’’ Steve replied glancing at the both of you. ‘’He’s got the same blood on his hands that Loki does. But right now, we got to put that behind us and get this done.’’

You shifted your gaze to the blood stains on the metal wall. As Steve continued to talk, you extended your hand and gently touched it. ‘’Loki needs a power source if we can put together a list…’’

‘’He made it personal,’’ You said cutting Steve off.

‘’That’s not the point,’’ Steve said sounding a little irritated.

‘’That is the point,’’ Tony stated. ‘’That’s Loki’s point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?’’

‘’To tear us apart,’’ Steve replied confused.

‘’Yeah, divide and conquer is great but he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That’s what he wants.’’ Tony explained. ‘’He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience.’’

‘’Right, I caught his act at Stuttgart,’’ Steve said still confused.

‘’Yeah, that was just a preview. This is opening night. And Loki, he’s a full-tilt diva, right?’’ Tony asked as you and Steve watched him. ‘’He wants flowers, he wants parades. He wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered…’’

Tony suddenly stopped, ‘’Son of a bitch.’’

𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗨𝗣 𝗔𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 𝗙𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗦𝗨𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗨𝗣.

‘’Time to go.’’ As he stood in the room's entryway alongside you, Steve said.

‘’Go where?’’ Natasha asked, gazing at both of you before narrowing her gaze to just you and giving you a teasing grin. ‘’Miss me?’’

‘’Not exactly.’’ You responded with a slight smile.

‘’Can you fly one of those jets?’’ Steve asked Natasha.

‘’I can.’’ Coming out of the toilet, a voice said. They all stared at Clint, who was cleaning his hands as he looked at you and Steve.

‘’You got a suit?’’ Steve asked Clint.

‘’Yeah.’’ He nodded.

‘’Then suit up,’’ Steve said before walking out, you turned and looked at Clint.

‘’I'm glad that your back Agent Barton.’’ You said, smiling and holding your hand out to Clint.

‘’I’m glad to be back.’’ He returned your smile and shook your hand.

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callmebrycelee · 2 years

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9-1-1: LONE STAR REACTION

This reaction is for the season 3, eighteenth episode titled “A Bright and Cloudless Morning" which originally aired on May 16, 2022. The episode was written by Bob Goodman and directed by Bradley Buecker. Spoilers ahead!

So, we've come to the end of another season of Lone Star and I must say, this has been the best season of the show thus far. In our season three finale, we get three stories, all of them revolving around the theme of life and death. Let's start with the plot that we left off with in the last episode.

When we last saw Judd, he was in total Papa Bear mode. After Wyatt bombed his interview last episode, Judd was left feeling like he'd pushed his son too far out of his comfort zone. In order to fix things, Judd decides he's going to convince the millennial asshole owner of the business Wyatt is trying to intern with to give his son another interview. While Judd heads inside the building, Wyatt stays put in the truck. Judd barges into the middle of a meeting and is immediately rebuffed by the owner. As the two of them go back and forth, there is an explosion that levels most of the building and causes the floor underneath them to collapse.

Wyatt witnesses the explosion and immediately calls 9-1-1. A dispatch who isn't Grace and Dave takes the call but thankfully Grace is sitting nearby to commandeer the call when she overhears Wyatt's name. A part of me felt bad for the other dispatch because normally it would be a very douchey move if someone took over a call the way Grace did. In fact, I believe most of the fandom hated Claudette in the OG series for pulling a similar stunt with May. RIP, Claudette. You were messy, but you didn't deserve to go out like that. Anywho, Grace is now talking with Wyatt and she learns that judd was inside the building when it exploded. I honestly felt so bad for both her and Wyatt during this scene because Wyatt is not handling the situation well and neither is Grace but she has to remain in control of the call.

We head back over to our disaster site. Judd is alert but his leg is broken ... again. At least if he had to break a leg, let it be the one that was already broken. He immediately goes into first responder mode, something the asshole owner doesn't approve of. However, he soon changes his tune when one of his employees succumbs to injuries sustained from being trapped under a piece of floor. I want to pause here and say that I've noticed there's been a trend of how heavier guys are portrayed on both this show and the OG series. I remember when the poor guy in season one of the OG series died after he slipped and fell from a roller coaster car. Then there was the security guard who fell off a building but was saved by his belly when he got trapped between two buildings. Now we have yet another victim who just so happens to be on the bigger side. What you trying to say 911? I'm side-eyeing you. Okay, back to the story.

Grace calls Judd's phone and she gets him hooked up with the other members of the 126. With some assistance from Marjan and Paul, Judd, millennial asshole owner, and his two employees are guided to safety. I love seeing the relieved look on Grace's face as she learns Judd is okay. It was yet another reminder of all these two have gone through over the past year. As Judd is being strapped onto a backboard for transport, the building sustains another collapse ... with Owen inside.

Before we get into Owen, I want to talk about TK and Carlos. Towards the beginning of the episode, we see TK recounting his last argument he had with Carlos. Apparently TK takes objection to Carlos making a will. I know the fandom at large is all about the Tarlos ship on this show. However, my only qualms about this pairing is how no one ever mentions just how immature and naive TK can be when it comes to his job and his relationships. Now I know most people in their late-20s/early-30s probably aren't pondering their mortality to the point of making a living will. However, due to the nature of the what TK does on a day to day basis, being a paramedic and all, I'm just really surprised that no one has ever recommended he do this. Don't first responders have a Human Resources department they can go to for things like this? Anywho, TK is shocked to discover that most of his coworkers have living wills drafted and I love that Nancy is the one who pointed out that hey, TK - you've had quite a few life or death situations over the last few years. Let's count them! TK nearly died from an overdose at the beginning of the series. TK was shot towards the end of season one. TK was taken hostage in season two - AND - TK nearly died in a house fire alongside Carlos. TK nearly succumbed to hypothermia after he became submerged in an icy pond at the beginning of this season, he nearly died in a plane crash, and he was drugged by a psychopath which caused him to lose his sobriety. TK has nine lives and I'm afraid he's used up most of them. If anyone needs a living will, it's TK Strand.

Owen shows up at the perfect moment to give his son a dose of reality. Thankfully, this leads to TK doing some introspection. By the end of the episode, he does decide to make a living will and feels the need to wake up Carlos in the dead of the night to let him know this ... oh, and also shoehorn in a marriage proposal. I'm sorry, y'all. This proposal scene was garbage and it's just more emotional manipulation on TK's part. Carlos even suggests that maybe they revisit the conversation in the morning when heads are clearer, however, TK insists that he's not proposing out of fear even though a part of me thinks he is. Carlos does acquiesce to his proposal and in the final scene of the episode we see them sharing the news with Marjan, Paul, Nancy, and Mateo. Yay ... I guess! (shrug emoji).

Okay, now we can talk about therapy. I loved that we got to see Gwyn (Lisa Edelstein) again, even if it was only in flashbacks and the one scene where she was a ghost. After a flashback to the morning of September 11th, we see Owen sitting in his oncologist's office. At first I was confused if this was also a flashback but Owen mentions that he's already battled cancer once so I figured we were in the present day. There's a mass on Owen's lung which could be his cancer reemerging, disrupting his remission, and this him in the complete opposite direction that TK is in this episode. While TK is trying his damndest not to think about his mortality, Owen wallows in it and I honestly felt bad for him. Fans of the show love to poke fun at Owen and his antics but behind all of the bravado and self-centered behavior is a broken man who has seen more death in his fifty-plus years of living than most people ever will no matter how long they live.

Owen volunteers himself to go find the missing maintenance man and gas company employee who were in the basement when the explosion happens. Mateo tags along and when they find the maintenance man, Owen sends Mateo away and tells him he's going to try looking for the other guy. There's another explosion due to all of the gas lingering in the air which causes a secondary collapse. Owen is knocked out and when he comes to, he hears someone calling out to him. This scene was so well done because up until it was revealed that the guy was someone who died in one of the towers on 9-11, I assumed the guy Owen was talking to was the missing gas company employee.

The guy Owen is talking to is someone he tried and failed to save. The fact that Owen has been carrying the guilt of not being able to save this guy with him for over twenty years is utterly heartbreaking. Thankfully, Owen is rescued and pulled from the building. I swear I teared up as we saw members of the 126 smiling at him alongside members of the firehouses Owen worked with when he was in NYC. It was this beautiful depiction of him vacillating between life and death and thankfully he chooses life.

Well, turns out, Owen doesn't have cancer which is a big relief because we've already seen poor TK lose one parent this season, I don't think we or he could've handled finding out his other parent was terminal. One thing I hope they work on next season with the Owen and TK father/son dynamic is that more than ever, these two seem like they are miles apart despite living in the same state and working together. When this show first debuted, one thing I liked is that we had a father/son relationship at the center of the show. I hope we get back to it because I love seeing Owen in dad mode.

By the end of the episode, we see all of our characters in a good place. We see Tommy having fun with her daughters. She's been through so much in the last year with grieving the loss of her husband to making the decision to start dating again to having a dalliance with her late-husband's baby brother. I wonder what's next on the horizon for Tommy Vega. I hope we continue seeing her be a badass. I want to see more of her friendship with Judd and Grace. Maybe we can see her dating someone that isn't her former brother-in-law and the uncle of her daughters. We also see Judd and Grace and their beautiful baby girl, Charlie. As I've mentioned many times before, they are my favorite pairing on the show. They, too, have been challenged this season with Grace giving birth in the middle of a snowstorm to Judd finding out he had a son to Judd's life being in danger in this episode. I hope next season we get to see more of them being parents. I love Grace's relationship with her stepson, Wyatt, so we hopefully see more of that. With Wyatt graduating high school, I wonder what's next on the horizon for him as well. I hope he is made a regular character next season.

Then we have our newest pairing of the show. I love that we got to focus more on Mateo and Nancy this season but I still think there is much to be learned. In many ways, Mateo has felt more like Owen's son this season than TK, and I love the mother/daughter relationship Tommy and Nancy have. I love Mateo and Nancy as a couple and I can't wait to see what next year brings for the two of them. Then we have Marjan and Paul. Things were kinda rocky between them for a bit but I'm glad we got past that. I love their friendship and I hope we get to see more of it next season. My only qualm with these two characters is that they feel so under-serviced. There is still so much about Marjan we still don't know. We've never met any of her family. At least we know about Paul's family and I'd love to see his mom and sister come back. Here's to hoping.

And then we have our other couple of the series - TK and Carlos. What a journey these two have been on and I'm just talking about season 3. We started the season off with TK and Carlos broken up and then it took TK nearly dying for them to reconcile. Then TK lost his mother and sobriety in rapid succession but the two of them remained steadfast in their relationship. Now they're engaged and to be honest I have mixed feelings about it. I think TK has a lot of growing to do independent of Carlos and I think TK needs to seek therapy. I know there's no such thing as a perfect relationship but I'm honestly nervous to see what will happen with these two next. Finally, we have Owen - our fearless leader. I've gone up and down and back and forth with Owen Strand this season. We saw some of his worst qualities come out this season but in these last few episodes we've seen some of the best parts of Owen - finally. I think Owen is best when he's not pursuing a relationship. Like TK, Owen needs therapy and thankfully he is getting it. I would love to see him bond with someone without there being a romance involved. Other than Tommy, we really don't see him hang out with any of the other characters that much. Maybe he and Billy can forage a genuine friendship. That's what I'm looking forward to next season,

To hang a hat on season 3, I have to say this has been the best season yet. We got introduced to some amazing characters - Wyatt, Catherine, and Julian. We said goodbye to Gwyn which was rough. We said hello to baby Charlie. The four-part season opener was a banger and this episode ended things on a high note as well. I'm so happy to hear the 126 will be back for a new season next year. But for now, I'll just binge the seasons that we have. It's been fun reacting to these episodes. Until next time ...

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hooves-of-hyrule · 8 months

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Hey, Zelda - Checked in on the Thundra Plateau Herd

“Hey, Zelda” is a documentation of my personal Tears of the Kingdom playthrough, told through the eyes of Link in a series of monologues.

In the brief intermission between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom, Link and Zelda spent a lot of time together - and by that I mean, they lived together. They shared a house, shared meals, even shared a bed (though if you asked them, they would’ve told you it was for comfort and safety, and yes, they’d really believe what they were saying). Link, however, also shared stories. Old habits die hard, and after Zelda disappears, he talks as if she's there listening to him just to keep some semblance of normalcy in his life.

Note that these are incredibly self-indulgent and I fully expect no one but myself to actually care about any of these lmao.

~~~~~~~~

I had a busy day today. Discovered some sky islands where apparently Zonai youth would be challenged to freefall through a series of light rings. Not totally sure what the significance of that is, but I did get an incredibly cool outfit out of the deal. It has fabric that can attach to the arms and legs to create a sort of… wing-suit, and makes it so much easier to maneuver through the air without a paraglider. If you were here, you’d probably insist on taking it for yourself on occasion. …I bet it would look even better on you than it does on me. Which is saying a lot, by the way, because it does look very good on me. You’re missing out. Also managed to get all but two of Purah’s skyview towers activated. When you come back you’re definitely going to have to give one of them a try. It’s about the closest thing you’ll get to flying!

Second thing I did was check on the Zonai horse herd we’ve been keeping an eye on. Remember that one foal we’ve been watching especially closely? That beautiful silver bay with the dark face? She’s finally all grown up. Managed to get a hold of her and she definitely was worth the wait. I can’t wait for you to meet her, I think you’ll like her even more than Dauntless. The rest of the herd is doing well too. One of the bands has been forced to move up toward the mountain though. You know the one that stayed on that ledge? That one. Turns out the stone talus got replaced by a lynel. That was… a surprise to say the least. Anyways, when I got back to the New Serenne Stable to register Wick as my own, I noticed someone worrying over a broken wagon so… obviously I fixed it for her. Turned out she had only just gotten the wagon but somehow didn’t even know how to catch a horse. Since catching horses is pretty much my only pastime, I figured I’d grab a nice gentle one for her. Managed to find her a beautiful bay paint with a long mane… honestly I almost kept him for myself, but apparently I need to rack up more “pony points” before I can register another horse. …Rant about that later. Anyway - I gave her the horse and she hitched it up, and then she asked for my name, which I told her. Her name is… Zumi? Zuli? Something like that. Apparently the only reason she asked was because she wanted to name the wagon after the two of us. So now it’s called Zunk. I can tell she only did it because she thinks I’m attractive or something, which is… uncomfortable, but I can forgive it because Zunk is honestly the best name I’ve ever heard and I think if we ever get a dog someday it should be named Zunk. Or maybe Zenk, actually. Get it? Zenk? …no, that’s stupid. Maybe Lilda? …Lelda? Zink… Zelink… hm. That’s a work in progress.

Oh, I asked the stable owner about whatever happened to that golden horse the two of us have been working on training. Apparently she got transferred to the Hebra snowfield stable, which is just about the worst place she could’ve been transferred to. I hope she’s doing well. I’ll go check on her for you tomorrow.

~~~~~

Author's Note: Wick is one of the two-max-stat-one-almost-max-stat horses I was talking about in the notes of the prologue. Now she's a 100% max stat. She's also, really freaking pretty. And as my friend said, "omg it's discount store-brand Epona."

Also I wish the paints and appaloosas didn't have such bad stats :( Someday I'll actually keep one and just upgrade it. Today is not that day. I hope Zumi(?) likes her horse that she will literally never use.

#legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #fanfic #zelink #hey zelda

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thetoxicgamer · 1 year

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Dead Space Remake Can Learn From the Callisto Protocol’s Combat

From the teasers and gameplay I've seen thus far, Dead Space Remake appears to be incredibly similar to the 2008 original. The Callisto Protocol, which was previously hailed as the unofficial successor to Dead Space, launched to a mixed response. As you can see from our Callisto Protocol review, although being on the favourable side of the critical divide, we did raise some faults with the game's plot and performance. Once the Dead Space Remake is out, is the pretender at risk of being surpassed? Maybe not. There is one thing Callisto does better than the original Dead Space, a thing which, unfortunately, I doubt we’ll see replicated in that long-anticipated Remake. Callisto Protocol’s combat, at least in the early levels, is vastly superior to that in Dead Space – and from what we’ve seen of the Remake so far, superior to that, also. The Ripper. The Plasma Cutter. Even the comparatively demure assault rifle. Dead Space uses shooting and killing to show off its various novelty weapons. And it’s compelling. Like the active reload feature in Gears of War, adding just one more button press or layer of functionality to each gun (do you want to fire the Plasma Cutter vertically or horizontally?) leads to more varied, more deliberate, and more spectacular combat. There’s no such thing in Dead Space as simply pointing and shooting. Identify enemy type; select the right weapon; set weapon to the correct mode; aim at appropriate body part; and only then do you shoot. The process is more stratified, and this is its greatest strength; this is the imaginative gimmick that always elevated Dead Space above most third-person shooters. As Isaac Clarke, engineer, you’re faced with a series of screeching, flesh-hungry (bio)mechanical problems – to ‘fix’ them, you must skillfully use the right tools. The issues with Dead Space’s combat have nothing to do with weapon designs or mechanics, or even individual instances of gunplay. In a kind of vertical slice example – Isaac Clarke versus one group of enemies – the combat in Dead Space is fantastic. The problem is with pacing. Especially in the later levels, enemies jump out and attack you relentlessly. You might complete a large-scale combat encounter or a big set-piece, and immediately afterwards, as you’re walking the halls of the Ishimura trying to recuperate and breathe in some of the rich horror atmosphere, again, you’ll be attacked. And then when you defeat that group of enemies, you’ll be attacked again. It becomes almost farcical, these repetitive occasions where you kill a bunch of Necromorphs, start listening to a voice note you’ve just found, only for another bunch of Necromorphs to suddenly drop in and start slicing you. I get that the goal is to pile pressure on the player, and thereby increase the horror, and the sense of a desperate bid for survival. But it has the opposite effect. The more of something you kill, the less that each individual one feels like it has the potential to harm you. As Isaac repeatedly and successfully kills Necromorphs, sometimes by the dozen or more, he, likewise, starts to feel invulnerable. As such there is no possible threat to his survival, and so, no horror. The Callisto Protocol does this as well. In the later levels, and especially after you’ve amassed the game’s entire weapons arsenal, Jacob Lee becomes perfectly capable of killing several Biophages at once without suffering so much as a bruise. But in its early stages, when you’ve just broken out of the prison cell, armed with only a metal pipe and the diminutive first pistol, Callisto is a masterclass in horror game combat. Partly, it’s the dodging system. Although the inputs and mechanics of it are basic, just inviting the player to actively try to avoid an enemy’s attacks makes that enemy seem much more threatening – if you don’t pay attention, and try to just kill this thing like you’re the one with the more power, you will die. The dodging system also introduces an element of physicality and sweat. As you dodge, and launch your counterattacks, you can see and hear Jacob working hard to keep alive. Combined with the crudity of his weapons (I wish Jacob didn’t trade the metal pipe for that dumb stun rod) it makes each battle in The Callisto Protocol feel like a fierce, near-death experience. But that’s only half of it. What’s more important is how The Callisto Protocol – again, in the early levels at least – sparingly deploys its enemies and monsters. For the first couple of hours, if you get into a fight, it’s with one, maybe two Biophages at once. Not only does this let you appreciate that kind of breathless, scrappy melee combat, it makes each individual enemy feel significant. When you’ve had to struggle, when you’ve had to think and react and really brawl just to down one monster, that monster becomes a much more affecting presence. As a consequence, you feel more engaged in the game mechanically. There’s no idling. There’s no dully sitting there, mowing enemies down, bored with your own invulnerability. You feel like you’ve got to think and act and be careful if you’re going to survive – a much more compelling proposal. This kind of combat, if it’s maintained throughout, can also help a game narratively. If we are meant to be Jacob, or at least deeply sympathise with Jacob, and Jacob is meant to be scared, that emotional compact becomes much stronger if we feel scared, also. Jacob panicking because he’s trapped in a room with a Biophage has no dramatic impact if we, playing as him, feel no threat from that Biophage. On the contrary, if each individual one has hurt us, beat us, and really made us earn a victory, Jacob’s apprehension becomes our own. And speaking again of Jacob, compared to Isaac in the original Dead Space, he’s a character who displays fear, ardour, and stress much more visibly – who more effectively ‘sells’ how we’re meant to feel. With the original Isaac, for the most part, all we have to go on in terms of his reactions or emotions is the green-yellow-red health bar on the back of his rig. It’s a neat UI gimmick, but even the occasional moments where Isaac winces, flees, or shows some visible kind of panic, do little to communicate what he’s internally going through. Isaac Clarke in the original Dead Space is a hunk of walking metal with a gun. Jacob Lee on the other hand squirms, sweats, and swears. They’re minor details, but Jacob’s whisper of “oh f***” when he sees a security robot, or the way he shuts his eyes in a kind of silent prayer when he first encounters the blind, stalker enemy, give him a traceable – but contained and not over-emphasised – humanity. And when a character has some detectable humanity, we instinctively cannot help it: we feel more connected and attuned to them. And this, in turn, adds to the immediacy of the combat, the interplay between what our character is doing and how we imagine it feels. Jacob – stressed, scared, sweaty – is identifiably a person. I, also, am a person. So when he’s slashed and bitten, and hauling that great metal pole over his shoulder to try and save his own life, I feel it more keenly. The Dead Space Remake, which gives a voice, a new face, and ostensibly “more agency” to Isaac Clarke, seems to appreciate this, too. But it all works much better when combat encounters are rare and the body count is lowered. If Dead Space Remake has as much shooting and death as the original, Isaac’s added humanity won’t be as affecting – a character can swear, shout, and emote, but if in gameplay they’re an unstoppable death machine, we won’t feel their vulnerability. The Callisto Protocol, at its best, mixes a perceptibly human character with what feels in gameplay terms like struggle and fallibility. I would love to see this in the Dead Space Remake. In fact, I would love to see it in more games generally. As it progresses, however, The Callisto Protocol gradually abandons this dynamic, giving you more guns to fight more enemies across more regular encounters. Like Dead Space, when it comes to horror – or even a basic sense of duress – Callisto’s developers seem to believe, quite simply, that more is more and less is less. It saddens me that games think so little of us, that we need a constant administration of blood, death, and killing or else we’ll lose interest. It’s accepted in horror films – and in pure horror games like Alien Isolation or Amnesia – that the less you see of something, the more frightening it becomes. Like walking around in the dark, it’s scary because you can’t see or comprehend or truly know it. The same must be true for horror games with more combat. The less you fight something, and the less simple it is to win that fight, the more it feels dubious, uncertain, and filled with coiled, dangerous potential, whereas the more you fight it and kill it, the less it affects you. That’s what The Callisto Protocol, at least initially, seems to understand. That’s what I hope the Dead Space Remake has learned. If you’re getting your Plasma Cutter fired up ready for Dead Space, make sure you have the full Dead Space system requirements, to prevent any Ishimura-style malfunctions. You might also want to check out some of the other best horror games, or maybe the best upcoming games for 2023. Read the full article

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samwontshare · 2 years

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My brain completely goes into full queer lockdown when I think about the boat engine scene. The level of intimacy in this scene is so intense I can’t believe they included it. And also? The moment Sam calls on his community to repair the boat, I was gone. Chef kiss, utter perfection. Sam Wilson finally asked for help.

I love how this shows we need people in our corner in different ways. Even if the system gets us down, that’s alright - where there’s a will, there’s a way. Sam is the product of his family’s legacy, one others would protect, one he would protect. None of us can do everything alone. But Sam would surely try to help everyone else before receiving. Sam needed his family, his community. Sam embracing those elements is what allowed him to fully step into himself. It signaled the end of disconnection. But he also needed to feel seen specifically by Bucky.

The series quickly brings us to Sam alone on the boat. And there’s so much to be said here about legacy and Sam feeling he has to singlehandedly carry on a legacy. And it isn’t working. The engine, the heart of the boat, is broken. We got ourselves a god damn metaphor for this man’s heart.

So cut to episode 5. Sam has realized he needs his family and community to fix the boat (his heart and soul). A community member brings the replacement part… but it’s Bucky who does the heavy lifting for Sam. And Sam looks SHOCKED.

Even when we’ve moved on to Sam asking for help, bringing his community together, he still sneaks out early to work on the engine, the heart, alone.

Except this time, Bucky follows him and interrupts. And unlike in ep one when Bucky jumped out a damn plane to follow Sam, Sam silently invites him in. They share a long, meaningful look with nothing said. Then Sam literally gives Bucky instructions to his heart, y’all.

It’s later followed by Bucky’s additional repair work, which helps Sam decide to take the mantle (per Anthony Mackie). It’s no coincidence that Bucky is the only outsider allowed to see every part of Sam, and it’s only when Bucky starts respecting and appreciating Sam in his totality that Sam is able to move forward. Bucky’s showing up, even when Bucky was being a shit and they were arguing, meant something to Sam. That Bucky finally showed up in the right way? It’s exactly what Sam needed.

This is in no way meant to downplay the pivotal roles of Isaiah, Sarah, the boys and his community or say Sam wouldn’t get there without Bucky. But it does speak volumes to how important their relationship is in the series. Bucky having Sam’s back, rolling up with those acts of service, making those amends… it was a balm to a troubled heart.

And the show did that intentionally. Even if you don’t ship Sambucky, you are meant to understand these two now have an unshakable bond to the point Bucky freaking moves to NOLA. Wild y’all.

#sambucky #rambling about ships again #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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mr-moose-man · 2 years

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...And into the Fire

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5

Summary: Ennard does not know who they’re truly against

TW: Darkness, Murder mention, body horror

This will be a multiple chapter series. Let me know if you want to be on the tag list.

___________________________________________________________

Silence. Oddly silent.

Metal scraping against the floor. It sounded heavy and strong and slow. “You …sly…traitor…” A collection of voices called. A scrapped hand came from the vent and Michael closed its hatch in a panic.

“What do you want from me?” He questioned.

The monster slithered out of the vent. “We want to live…” The voices responded. It sounded like it was approaching from the right. Michael shined his light into the hallway and there it was. A broken clown mask worn by a writhing mass of muscle-like wires. He slammed the button, feeling his heart rate increasing.

“For years…you kept us down here. Every day…in a dark cellar. Your sins do not age like wine…” It’s coming from the vent again.

“I know what I did!” Michael admits with guilt. “That’s why I’m here! I’m trying to fix everything!”

“Then repent and let me in,” The clown commanded as it poked it head through the shaft. Michael closed it in it’s face.

“It may not look it, but I value my life.”

“You don’t value life!” The amalgam accused. “You never valued ours!” The thing leaped out at Michael from the right with a roar. He fell back onto the desk as it flew into the left hallway.

He closed the door. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I killed him!” He cried as he clutched the Fredbear plush.

“What about us? You know what you did to us!”

“I don’t know who you are!”

“We’ve never known you as forgetful, Afton…”

“Evan was my mistake! I know that! Do you know me?” He noticed his power was decreasing. He couldn’t keep this door closed forever.

“All too well. A lover, a father, an artist, an inventor, a sick sick man.”

Michael pressed himself against the wall, eyes glued to the camera feed. “You’ve got the wrong man. I promise you!”

“We recognise your face. The way you stand. Your voice.”

“How long have you been here?”

“No sun! Dust and darkness!” It cried as it dragged itself across floor.

“That’s fair honestly. Do you just want to see the sun? I can take you to see the sun.”

“You would’ve done that anyway if you only listened to me.”

“That doesn’t sound threatening.”

“Stop talking demon!” Michael closed the door on it again. “You have no reason! There will be no more sadness! No more anger! No more envy!” It screamed from the vent. Michael shot up from the cameras to press the close it. As he reached to slam the button, It grabbed his hand and lifted him off the ground. The searing pain of his shoulder pulling him, trying to hold himself together was mind numbing. He yelped and gritted teeth and squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation. This thing wanted him hurt, wanted him dead. “You won’t hurt anyone anymore.”

The door behind him flew open as the clean up crew came to pull him down. They clamored and yelled as they smacked the robot back with a toolbox one had on hand. They rushed out of the room and locked the door tight.

Banging and desperate screeching rings from the other side. Michael rubbed his shoulder as the crew escorted him back to the maintenance elevator. He went up, praying to never to see the underbelly of this place again.

___________________________________________________________

Tag List

@hyperfixations-org @rockeater @literallyneurodivergentandaminor

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heyyyharry · 2 years

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FEVER DREAM (from the Flatmate Series)

...in which they share a hotel bed and Harry sees Santa Claus.

*The Flatmate series will be published as books*

Word count: 2.7k

Harry believed this might be the coldest London winter he’d ever experienced. Harry loved Christmas, but London weather was a joke. The entire UK was covered in snow while London had to deal with rainstorms every day, and it was minus five degrees outside. If it snowed, it would snow in late February and early March. White Christmas was a far-fetched concept here.

And now Harry was sitting in his bedroom with three layers of coats because the central heating in the building had been broken for a week. His landlord had come over that morning and said they would have it fixed today, but no one had shown up.

“Do you need a radiator here? I already got one,” Y/N said, poking her head into his room. She was wearing a puffer jacket; that was how cold it was. Y/N wasn’t good at dealing with the cold. Harry, however, shouldn’t be this cold. He had played football out in this weather and taken cold showers afterwards. But now he was shivering under his duvet.

He sat up on the bed as she waited at the door.

“Where’d you get that one?” he asked, nodding at the radiator she was holding.

“Mrs Benson said that we could have it. She’s staying with her friend over the weekend anyway.”

“Do you think they will have it fixed this weekend?”

Y/N shrugged as she entered and put the radiator beside his bed. “I think the earliest they could do is Monday.”

“Argh!” Harry groaned into the pillow as Y/N plugged in the radiator and turned it on for him.

“You okay?” she asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You don’t seem fine. You’re shivering,” Y/N said and reached out a hand to feel Harry’s forehead, but he quickly withdrew.

“I said I’m fine.”

“Gee, okay, grumpy pants.”

“My pants aren’t grump—” The joke was cut off with a loud sneeze which he covered with his arm.

His eyed began to water as he glanced up to find Y/N frowning. “I think you’re getting sick.”

“I’m not. I’m never sick,” he said, rubbing his nose which was itching terribly. “Except for that one time I pretended to be sick.”

“Yeah, yeah, take your toxic masculinity somewhere else. You’re definitely sick.”

“I’m not. I just need some sleep. That’s all.”

Y/N heaved a sigh as Harry lay back down and pulled his duvet up.

“Fine,” she said when he turned and faced away from her. “Let me know if you feel worse. A cold is no joke especially when we’ve got no heater.”

“Will do.”

“Good.”

“Harry, wake up!” Y/N’s voice echoed in Harry’s mind. He heard her well and could identify the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo, so he tried to sit up, but it felt as if he’d been pinned to the bed by a weight resting on top of him. His eyes struggled to open. When he finally managed to, Y/N’s shadow loomed over him. She was wearing her white hat and scarf and the biggest frown he had ever seen.

“Am I in trouble?” he asked, barely recognising his own croaky voice. “Also, where are you going?”

“You are in trouble, just not with me,” she sighed and pulled the duvet off him. “Get up. We’re going to a hotel.”

“What? Why?” he whined, trying to fight for his duvet back, but his arms moved like jelly, and he couldn’t even sit up to reach for it. “I can’t move, Y/N.”

“God. You’re such a burden.” Y/N grabbed his hands and pulled him up into a sitting position.

“Ha. That’s what my sister would say.”

“And more annoying when you’re ill.”

Harry rested his back against the headboard and shivered from the cold. Were those radiators not working at all? “I am not ill,” he claimed, although in a disbelieving sort of tone.

Y/N rolled her eyes. When she stopped arguing, he knew she was about to do something. She marched straight to the pile of clothes by the door, paused, glanced back to the second pile of clothes in the other corner of the room by his bed. “Which one is clean?”

He nodded his head towards the pile by the door. “I have a system.”

“No. You’re a disgusting white boy,” she scoffed then pulled out from the pile a dark blue jumper and a pair of black trousers. He dodged when she threw them at him with full force.

“What the fuck?”

“Five minutes to change,” she said, then checked the time on her phone. “You know what? Make it two minutes. Uber is coming.”

“But I’m not—” Y/N walked out and slammed the door “—sick.”

Harry slumped back into the bed. He couldn’t be arsed to leave the flat now. It might be Antarctica here, but it’d be colder outside. It wasn’t actual logic because he’d be warm when he was in the hotel, still, the thought of going outside pained him even more than this headache.

His head shot up when the door sprang open again. Y/N dipped her head in. “Get off the bed. Now.”

“Okay, okay, you’re worse than my sister,” he said, pushing himself up. She rolled her eyes again and slammed the door again.

The hotel room cost them seventy pounds a night, and although Harry wasn't stingy, he didn't think this was necessary. He wasn't that sick and it was definitely not Covid (he’d had three lateral flow tests this morning just to be safe), so he didn't know why Y/N was so concerned. The room was as small as their biggest bathroom and there was only one bed. There were other better options but considering that they were just here for one night, they shouldn’t be spending too much money. The problem was—

“Why is there only one bed?” he asked, watching Y/N shake off her puffer coat.

She gave him a tired look. “Because all the other rooms with two singles in this price range have been booked.”

“Jesus, it’s Christmas week. Why do these people have to stay in hotels?”

His comment made Y/N laugh. He was truly convinced that the cold made her grumpier. She was in a better mood now that she was in a warm room.

“Maybe their heaters also broke down,” she joked and went to check the bathroom, which was a door right by the bed. “Oh, good. Bathroom’s clean.”

Harry was too tired to go check so he just threw himself onto the bed. Y/N was a clean freak, so if she said it was clean, it was clean clean.

“What are you doing? Get off the bed!”

Harry shot up as Y/N smacked his leg. He got to his feet. “What? I just want to lie down.”

“At least get changed. No outside clothes on the bed.”

“It’s a hotel bed. People probably have sex on it all the time,” he said with a smirk, which vanished the second he saw the disapproving look on her face. “Not us though. No funny business tonight.”

Y/N sighed. “How are you feeling?”

“Slightly better.”

She nodded. “Good. I’ll go take a shower. You can get changed and get on the bed.”

Harry didn’t feel slightly better for too long. He woke up in the night coughing.

The room was dark, and the only light source was the orange streetlight creeping in through the gap between the cream curtains. The window was fogged up from the cold, but in this room, Harry was burning up.

Soaked in sweat, he wiggled out of the duvet. Y/N was asleep. He was surprised his coughing hadn’t woken her. She was sleeping on her side, facing away from him. He lay his head back on the pillow, staring at a crack in the ceiling and trying to fall back to sleep.

His eyes were shut for about five minutes when someone started pounding on the door. He jolted upright. Y/N did too, her eyes wide, terrified. The itching in his throat got worse, so he couldn’t speak, just gesturing for her to stay in bed as he got up to see who it was. It must be some kid pulling a prank. But then he checked the time on his phone, and it was 3 AM. Must be some drunkard then.

The knocking got louder and harder, more personal. And if Harry wasn’t coughing so much, he would give this drunk motherfucker a piece of his mind.

He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. “What the fuck?”

Standing before him was a white-bearded old man dressed as Santa Claus.

“Ho-ho-ho, Merry—”

“Who the fuck are you?” Harry asked. His throat had stopped itching. Thank God.

“I’m Santa Claus.”

“It’s three in the fucking morning, and it’s not even Christmas yet.”

“Oh, shit,” Santa said, pulled up his sleeve and checked his Rolex watch. “These elves keep fucking up my schedule. Sleigh!”

Harry was lowkey amused by whatever this was. He opened his mouth to make a comment, then suddenly a sleigh dragged by four flying reindeers burst through the window into the hallway. Glass shattered, making Harry flinch. Santa hopped on it, and they just whooshed right out of the building through the broken window.

Harry stood there for a whole minute. He rubbed his eyes, hard. What the fuck? Frightened, he immediately stepped back into the room and shut the door. “Y/N, you have no idea—”

He went stiff when he found Y/N sitting on the edge of his bed. Naked.

“Uh…” he tried to speak but didn’t know what to say. He was still pretty shocked by the Santa Claus thing, but this was even more bizarre.

Y/N put a finger on her lips in a playful manner as she batted her eyelashes at him, her tits jutting out invitingly. “Merry Christmas. Why don’t you come over here and fuck me?”

Harry’s cock twitched at the idea of it, but his other more useful head interrupted before he could speak. This was a fucking dream. He was dreaming.

“This is the ugliest room I’ve ever seen.”

The familiar Irish accent made Harry scream. He whipped his head to the corner and found Niall sitting in the armchair. And why was Niall wearing a suit and had a moustache? Harry snapped out of his thoughts, ran to the bed, and threw the duvet over Y/N’s naked body so Niall would stop staring. He wanted to leave this dream now. It wasn’t fun anymore.

“Now, Harry.” Niall clicked his pen and tapped it onto the notebook resting on his leg. Harry had no idea where they’d come from. “Let’s talk about the fact that your father doesn’t love you.”

“What the fuck? I love my dad and he loves me.”

“Oh.” Niall’s eyebrows furrowed as he stroked his moustache, which was still really fucking weird. “I think I got the wrong file.” He pulled out a file case from the back of the chair and flipped through it. “Oh yeah, I got Layla’s by mistake.”

“What?”

“Here’s yours! Let’s talk about the fact that you’re in love with Y/N but too afraid to admit it.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. “I’m not in love with my flatmate. The fuck?”

“But you want to fuck me?” asked Naked Y/N, now sitting there exposed again.

“Niall, close your eyes,” Harry said, and Therapist Niall closed his eyes. To Naked Y/N, he said, “I do want to fuck you, but that’s it.”

To his shock, tears welled up in her big round eyes. “You’re just using me.”

“That is not true,” Harry exclaimed, holding up a finger as Naked Y/N started sobbing into her hands. He tried his best not to look at her perfect tits, because it was immortal to stare at a crying girl’s tits, but—fuck this dream!

“Hey, hey.” Quickly, he came to sit down beside her on the bed. He put an arm around her shoulders, careful not to be too touchy. “I like you as a friend. And I like the frenemies dynamic we got going on. And I think about fucking you sometimes, but that’s it. But you’re not in love with me, either. You think I’m gross. You called me an illiterate white male once even though I have higher grades than you but—”

“Harry,” Naked Y/N cut him off. She’d stopped crying, now looking rather sad. “But I like you more than a friend.”

“Because we’re in his dream, and he’s a narcissist so he wants everyone to be obsessed with him.”

Harry turned around and glared at Therapist Niall. “This is why your sister’s a therapist and you’re in business school.”

Naked Y/N tapped him on the shoulder. He turned back to her. “If I didn’t like you more than a friend,” she said, “why did I give you my radiator because you were sick?”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“I gave you my radiator this morning. It wasn’t Mrs Benson’s, it was mine.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“Shit,” Harry murmured.

Naked Y/N nodded slowly, then she put her hand on his hard cock, which made him flinch as his face turned red. “Now let’s have very rough se—”

Harry’s eyes shot open as he gasped for air. The room was dark, and the only light source was the orange streetlight creeping in through the gap between the cream curtains. The window was fogged up from the cold, but in this room, Harry was burning up. Soaked in sweat, he wiggled the duvet off him.

Y/N, now fully clothed, turned over and stared at him, her eyes heavy with sleep. “Can’t you stop moving? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, blushing at the dream he’d had. “I have a question.”

Y/N hummed as response. Her eyes were closed now.

“Did you give me your radiator?”

Eyes still closed, she nodded. “If I’d said it was mine, you wouldn’t have taken it.”

“Aww.”

“Don’t aww. I ended up getting cold so I made us come here.”

“But you were worried about me.”

“I guess.”

Harry smiled. “Do you like me like me?”

Y/N finally opened her eyes. To his surprise, she looked rather calm. “You think so because you’re a narcissist so you want everyone to be obsessed with you.”

“Oh shit, Therapist Niall said the same thing, too.”

“What?”

Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I just had the weirdest fever dream, Y/N. But now I’m kinda worried about Layla.”

Y/N giggled; she looked so confused. “Well, you can tell me about it in the morning. I need to sleep.”

“Okay,” Harry said, closed his eyes for a second and opened them again. “But do you like me?”

“As a friend, yes.”

“Okay, good,” he murmured. “Because Naked Y/N was pretty weird when she professed her love for me.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Y/N glared at him. “Now can you go to sleep and stop annoying me?”

“Sure, but I can’t sleep.” Harry really couldn’t. Maybe it was because his fever had gone away, so now he had more energy to stay awake.

“Count sheep.”

“I’ve tried it but I would just concentrate too much and stay up counting until morning.”

“Shhh.” Y/N put a finger to his lips, her eyes shut. “I’m counting my sheep. One of them fell into the water because of you.”

“Water?” Harry chuckled. “Are you sheep jumping over a river?”

“Yes.”

“Cool. Now add crocodiles to the river.”

Y/N grimaced. “My sheep is being torn apart by the crocodile. The water is red with blood.”

“Is it the fat sheep? It’s always the fat sheep.”

“He’s body positive.”

“He was. Now he’s dead.”

Y/N opened her eyes, her lips curled into a smile. “You’re weird.”

“You’re weird. You murdered your imaginary sheep.”

“You made me do it. You’re an accomplice,” Y/N said as she yawned. “Now please be quiet so I can continue counting my sheep.”

“Make sure they don’t fall into the river again.”

“I’ll try.”

As Y/N fell asleep, Harry lay there, staring at her with a smile on his face, which was quite creepy from her point of view, so he was glad she wasn’t aware. It took him a while to fall back to sleep, this time, dreamless until morning.

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