#Anyway this is entitled 'a new side of you' in my documents

[seahydra]

Okay I think. I'm posting it. 800+ something words under the cut, I wanted to write something kind of like the audio dramas featured on the album CDs or the silly skits in the podcast episodes, so it's all written as if it were a script. Enjoy?!

Levi: Ah, y-you're here! ...You're early.

Lazarus: Well, I got bored waiting for the time to come around, and I wanted to see you right away, so... ahem.

Lazarus: Anyway, we’re watching the Ultrawitch finale tonight, right? I've been looking forward to it.

Levi: Actually, I… had something else in mind for us to watch tonight, if that’s okay with you? We can totally finish the series some other time, it’s just- I saw something I really wanted to watch with you ASAP, and…

Lazarus: Really? I do wish you’d told me that earlier...

Lazarus: But it’s fine. I suppose I don’t really care, as long as we get to hang out. What did you have in mind?

Levi: It’s this 12 episode anime I discovered recently. Each episode covers a different tragic story, with different characters. It's supposed to be SUPER heartbreaking lol. I mean, i-if you care.

Lazarus: Huh… much different from our original plan... but alright. It sounds interesting enough.

Levi: Really?! Thank goodness, I was so worried you’d turn down the idea!! Okay. Come sit down, I’ll get it all set up.

Lazarus: Got it.

Lazarus: …Hey, you’re moving in a bit close, Levi…

Levi: Yeah, so I can see your face bette- um, I mean-! A-A-Am I?! I’m so sorry! I’ll get out of your personal space right away, ahahaha!

Levi: A-Anyway, I’m about to hit play, so quiet down and watch closely, alright?!

…

Levi: (sniff) Making the immortal say goodbye to his human lover is so cruel... gaaahh, it hurts my very soul! (sob) Why couldn't they both just be together forever? It's not fair...

Lazarus: It is rather painful, indeed... but at least they got to be together at all, even if it was just for a little while?

Levi: But now he's going to be alone! Uuuugh, I can't think about this anymore... (sniff)

… ...

Lazarus: Ah, this poor girl... watching her repress herself like this makes me feel bad.

Levi: (sniffle) Everyone in that town is so shallow. They have no right to talk about her behind her back just because she's a little "weird"! Don't they see how much that hurts her? I bet they don't even care! How heartless... (sob)

Lazarus: (Yeah, I know what that's like...)

... ... ...

Levi: W-Well, that was the final episode. Um... your thoughts, please?

Lazarus: Eeeh, bit of a 6/10 to me, I think. No, maybe 6.5... 6.7?

Levi: 6.7?!?! That's it?! N-No way... did you somehow feel nothing while we were watching it?

Lazarus: Well, the stories themselves were written fine enough. But, it didn't really do anything for me overall..

Levi: ...You're unbelievable.

Lazarus: Eh?! Hey, what's with the sudden mood change? Are you mad at me?

Levi: Tch... I should have known... even if we ARE best friends, you'd never... not in front of someone like me...

Lazarus: Levi?

Levi: Like, why would you?! Who would want to be so open... in the presence of some loser...

Lazarus: Leviathan.

Levi: What?!

Lazarus: Talk to me. What's wrong?

Levi: ...No. I can't. It’s too embarrassing.

Lazarus: Come on, tell me! You know I'm not going to judge you!

Levi: Fine. Fine!

Levi: I was just thinking... in the entire time we’ve known each other, I’ve seen all sorts of different emotions on you.

Levi: I’ve seen how happy you get when you pull a UR card of your fave. I’ve seen you be totally pissed off, like when we first met. I’ve even seen you be terrified out of your mind, but…

Levi: …somehow, I’ve never seen you cry before. I thought for sure today would be the day, but everything backfired on me. So humiliating...

Lazarus: Hm? So all of this was merely you trying to make me cry?! Okay, I miiiiight judge you a little for that. You’re weirder than I thought, aren't you! Ahaha!

Levi: Wait. Wait, wait, wait! No! I just realized that sounds really bad! I-I-I promise I’m not a sadist or anything! It's because, um, I…

Levi: …I brought it up once, to everyone else. And they all said they’d never seen you cry, either. Like, not even tearing up a LITTLE bit!

Lazarus: ...Yes, because I don’t like to do that in front of other people.

Levi: But that’s the thing! When they all said that, I thought... I really wanted to be the first and only person to ever see you cry.

Levi: Because, like… that would mean you trust me, right? I… want.. to be the only person you’re vulnerable with, in that way… or something.. whatever.

Levi: Never mind, it’s nothing. Just forget I said anyth-

Levi: …Wait. A-Are you--?!

Lazarus: T-That’s… (sniff) somehow, that’s the sweetest thing... (sniff) you’ve ever said to me!!! Waaaaaaaahhh! Levi, you’re so cute!!!

Levi: Why was that what did it for you?! Hey, don’t just throw your arms around me-! Aaaaghhh, I can't process all of this!!! Let go, you idiot!!!

END 💥💥💥

#atari.pdf #<- IDONT HAVE A WRITING TAG. I SHOULDNT HAVE USED TXT!!!!!!! #Anyway this is entitled 'a new side of you' in my documents #I think this would be much better if it were actually voiced but obviously that's not happening so www #No taglist either coz I'm shy if this gets seen it gets seen. Hi guys #Plot inspired by the fact that I truly honestly do not cry much (I wish I could though. It's just physically difficult) #❥ the prince and the little mermaid

[flipping-the-coin]

[Patient Report: OP-7845-91653]

[Authorization Requirement: Alpha]

[Document Status: Sensitive - 94% preserved]

[Listed Authorized Individuals: Primal Steward Ratchet]

[Overseeing Medical Personnel: - Primary Physician: CMO Ratchet - Secondary Assistant: First Aid]

[Session: #004]

═════════════════

Orion was a decent enough patient this session. No serious deviations from what I’ve recorded. Through medication he has begun to return to awareness without any serious side effects. He’s still very unstable, but he is improving bit by bit. He hit me with his field again when I got too close, but that is to be expected. He's still very sensitive to anything and everything. 

Megatron loomed over me as usual. He tried incredibly hard to get a rise out of me, but unfortunately for him, I was wise enough to take a low dose of sedatives before arriving. They kept me calm at the cost of awareness. I worked in a daze, but it wasn’t as if I needed to be on my best behavior when Orion was too unsettled to even let me closer than a foot away without Megatron holding him. Orion may need to be issued ration tickets for the time being. He’s too thin and Megatron is exhausted caring for him. To my knowledge, Orion should have a sizable inheritance. As soon as he is aware enough to come and claim it, I will give it to him and he won’t need to live the way he does.

It is the least I can do. He’s entitled to his inheritance, and with Alpha Trion currently MIA, there is no point leaving a bunch of shanix and assets to rot in a vault. The banks are nearly open again. I might be able to pull some strings and give Orion access prior to his registry as a citizen, but I can’t get Megatron access when their conjunxing is unconfirmed. Slagging policies. I’m sure Megatron blames me for a lot of the issues we are dealing with globally. Primus, I wish I could show him just how chaotic things are. No matter how hard I try, files fly under my radar and sneak past the correct authorities and worm their way into legalization. I’m just one mech. I can’t do everything.

Sometimes I detest the fact that Optimus left this role for me in his will. But I know he wasn’t in his right mind at the time. It wasn’t like he trusted many of us anyway. 

Orion muttered strange things. Lots of pleas to be released and all sorts of nonsense about Bumblebee being ‘their’ sparkling. I don’t give a frag about a lot of it. The arrogance is startling. Still, I got some information from him through a few pointed questions. Megatron almost punched me for it, but I asked about Optimus again. I got a scrambled answer and a field attack in response.

I don’t have all the pieces to this puzzle, but I am beginning to put things together. I know that Orion and Optimus shared a frame throughout the war due to the Matrix. I know that the Matrix seemed to have… made Optimus. I have no clue what process allowed that to happen, but that’s what I’ve gathered. Orion was locked within the Matrix throughout Optimus’s functioning, which explains why he is the way he is. They appeared to have been able to communicate, but based on what Orion has muttered, there was a severe miscommunication issue or Orion is delusional.

The way he talks about Optimus… you would think my Prime was murdering sparklings in their cradles. War did lead him to have to make some tough calls, but everyone suffered during the conflict. Orion isn’t special in that regard. The Primus forsaken slagger really seems willing to die on the hill of Optimus being the worst thing since the Quints. 

Frag him.

I gave Orion a new dose of sedatives and left before I could get hit again. Orion Pax makes me angry. Far more than I care to admit. He was my friend. My closest companion before the war. But… I didn’t choose for it to be that way. Maybe my old fears are re-emerging. Having Optimus around made it impossible for me to think about my past. The circumstances of mine and Orion’s association were irrelevant. I didn’t want to be there and I would have been punished if Orion deviated, but I like to think we took comfort in one another.

Then he just had to fall for that mongrel Gladiator. I really shouldn’t have helped by giving him the train ticket to Kaon, but he was just so very broken. He had something he finally loved and I didn’t have the spark to deny him. I was trapped in the constraints of my deal, but he could enjoy himself a bit if I covered for him. 

So many vorns later… that decision still haunts me. I should have stopped him. I should have refused to let him go to Kaon. My biggest fear at the time was that Alph- my sponsor, was going to kill me. Who could have imagined that the end of our entire civilization would have come about instead. I was worried about vanishing mysteriously when I should have really been paying more attention. I don’t like to think about all the times I considered going to Alpha Trion. It brings back bad memories. The war made it all seem so small.

Slag, I honestly believed I was trying to court my best friend. 

I still haven’t processed that fact. How am I supposed to process that? I firmly believed that Optimus was just Orion given a new form. I thought I knew him. But now that I am Orion’s doctor and now that Optimus is gone-

I don’t think I knew either of them.

It doesn't matter anymore. I’m old and memories are difficult for me at times. I don’t want to think about any of it. I have more important things to do. I can’t allow myself to lose control. I can’t be angry with Orion. I need to stay composed. Once I put the pieces of this messed up story together, then I can decide how best to act. I don’t have enough information.

Patience. That was Optimus’s best trait. I just need to emulate him.

So long as I am patient, I will get through this. I can get the frag out of being Orion’s doctor as soon as the clinics are operational. I can get away from all of this. These slagging memories that I don’t want to recall.

═════════════════

[Assistant First Aid Report:

Everything was delivered without issue! I managed to come inside and clean up a little bit for Mr. Pax, which was nice. I got everything all picked up and I even managed to give Mr. Megatron a care package without seeming rude. At least, I hope it wasn’t rude. 

However I think there is something that should come to your attention, Doctor. I think your pill dosage was a little high this time. I know mistakes happen so please don’t take offense! I was just looking at the pill case and noted a few too many in there to be healthy. I don’t think it would have killed Mr. Pax thankfully. But it would have been very painful for him. Luckily for all of us, I removed the excess pills before anything could go wrong.

I just thought you would like to know. You have some serious jitters sometimes, so if you would like, I can count out pills when you need it, Doctor.]

#maccadam #transformers prime au #transformers #two sides to a coin au #transformers prime #orion pax #two sides supplemental writing #megaop #megatron #post war cybertron #tfp ratchet #ratchet patient reports

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body. 

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm. 

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered. 

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.” 

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?” 

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.” 

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.” 

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.” 

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month. 

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair. 

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly. 

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.” 

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head. 

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.��� Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.” 

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.” 

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.” 

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die. 

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room. 

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground. 

“Who is it?” You asked. 

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered. 

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.” 

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled. 

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.” 

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.” 

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.” 

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.” 

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.” 

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?” 

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.” 

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom. 

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well. 

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

[seesgood]

can we very gently talk about call out posts / culture really quick?  not in a judgmental way, but in like a: i just want to pose a thought and explain why i’m never going to buy into it and why i wish it would become less of a trend instead of more of one? and i’ll add the  disclaimer  here: i totally get not wanting certain people around you for various reasons, that is all your prerogative. that’s your comfort level. but in emphasizing “your blog should be a safe space” we’re kind’ve losing sight of the fact that the rpc should also be a safe space, and as much as your comfort and safety matter, so do other people’s. and not just the person who hurt you, but the third parties and other mutuals and 99.9% of people who are not at all involved in any way in whatever happened. so, anyway here goes, read it or don’t, we all have different opinions or reasons, i just want to be heard:

people are allowed to change.  think back to who you were last year. two years ago. think about the stuff you said when you were seventeen, or twenty-one, or hell whatever age you were. current-you would probably cringe at the kind of stuff past-you had to say. because you grew. you learned. you had life experiences. in hindsight you have the freedom to be like “oof yeah that was not the best version of myself right there damn i don’t want to be like that again.” the growing trend of ‘here’s a 10+ page google doc complete with out of context screenshots that sometimes date back to like 2017 or earlier’ makes this kind of change impossible. because right there, you’ve just frozen a person in time, probably not at their best, removed any and all amounts of context, and put it on the internet and let other people judge it for themselves. 

so that leads into another point that i want to just kinda present to the community at large: the act of documenting behaviors and storing them for months / years at a time, in itself creates a super unsafe environment, not just for you, your friends, the people who have hurt you --- but also for anyone else that isn’t at all involved in whatever happened. like, for example, i like to think that i’m a pretty nice person. i actively try to be a nice person. am i sometimes not having the best day? have people definitely caught me in bad moments? oh hell yeah. but am i, as someone who tries really hard to be nice and welcoming, constantly thinking through every message i send to someone knowing that a) i could have a reputation that makes them read into context that isn’t there and that could contribute to them misinterpreting words i meant in a different way, b) very aware that every post i make, ask i send, message i send can at any moment be screenshotted and posted and taken out of context and either serve as someone’s only opinion of me or pile on to someone’s existing opinion of me? yeah. so in my experience, and based on people i’ve talked to, we now have this thing where you can be surface-friends wtih a lot of people, but if you want to survive in the tumblr rpc you should really only have 2-3 people that you really trust that you can actually talk about shit with. 

and lately i’ve been seeing a resurgence of posts on my dash about like “bring back xyz in the rpc” or “the reason the rpc is like this is because of xyz” and i both agree and disagree with a lot of this, but primarily i think the reason the rpc is Off lately is because everyone and their cousin has a DNI, which is --- again --- your decision and i understand and respect that, but while you know the context of every name on that DNI, other people don’t. and to be honest: other people don’t really care and honestly maybe they shouldn’t care. --- and don’t get me wrong, your friends should care if someone has hurt you. that’s important. but joe billy bob who just wants to write their character with yours is going to read through your rules, they’re going to see “do not interact with me if you follow with or interact with these people you’ve never heard of and if you want me to tell you why just message me” (which no one is ever going to do, i’m sorry to say). and say, joe billy bob also followed that other person because they were like ‘omg this blog looks cool’ --- now joe billy bob, who just wants to write cool plots, is suddenly the middle-man in some type of drama that they do not understand, and maybe they’re able to remove themselves from the situation, but even then it’s still in the back of your mind. 

this is getting long. it’ll be longer, but let’s take a brief break for me to remind you that in some cases, it’s definitely good to give your mutuals and friends a heads up when someone has done something really, really bad. like, remember x amount of years ago when some dude was like ‘i’m gonna make up a new person and say they died by suicide as a social experiment’ or ‘hey this person actively tries to force very triggering plots about abuse / rape / incest onto people and has been doing so for years and does not seem to change their ways no matter how many people try to educate them’ that’s shit people should probably know about. and it’s also okay ( in my opinion ) for your friends to be able to message you like ‘hey i saw you’re writing with x and i just wanted to let you know i had this experience with them’ if that’s something they feel comfortable doing. and if they are comfortable with you still having the autonomy to make your own decision regarding the person. 

i’ll be honest, for a second: i’ve been part of friendships and groups that have turned really toxic for one reason or another. a handful of times. there are probably people out there that are like “yeah this chick is really fake and manipulative and etc, i was friends with her back in 2019″ which, okay. yeah. i’ve definitely done shit and said shit that was not the most representative of who i want to be and who i want to become, and you probably have to. because we are human beings and we are a product of our social groups and the community around us. and you shouldn’t be chained to a version of you that isn’t you anymore. people change. they grow. you don’t have to like them, but you should respect that sometimes people don’t mesh, and that doesn’t mean any of them are bad people, it just means the experience was bad. 

a few additional notes i would like to make but i’ve already gone on way too long:

90% of the callout posts that i’ve seen and the DNI’s that i’ve seen can, in my opinion, be classified as a friend group thing. you were friends with x, x did something, now y and z aren’t friends with x anymore. pain is a very, very real thing and people hurting you should never be minimized, but at some point i just want you to remember that not every friendship is going to end happily, but both you and the other party should be allowed to move on and grow better, healthier friendships after. rehashing Friend Group Gone Wrong instances removes that ability for not only person x, but also person y and z.

you putting out a callout says just as much ( maybe more ) about you than it does about the other person. which sucks. because i’d like to think we all have great intentions, and i’m not saying that you should swallow your pain, but it might not be the kind of thing that impacts the community at large, and maybe you should try to find a better way of working through it with a trusted friend(s)

i’m going to be very real and very blunt on this one: literally no one cares. i say that with love. i’m good friends with people who have each other on their DNI’s. establish a baseline of respect and ‘i’m not going to say anything to them about you and vice versa because there’s no need for me to do so’ and move on. but seriously. no one cares. most outside people read callout posts because they like being in the know about the drama, not because they actually care. 

person a and person b who are mentioned in the DNI / callout aren’t the only ones who are going to be affected. your friends, your mutuals, your writing partners are now all put in a weird spot where you have to pick sides on an issue you know nothing about and shouldn’t have to know anything about. you’re asking people to choose sides on an issue they cannot fully understand, and that’s not fair to them or to you. and it drives great people away. and then we all lose out on having more awesome people in the rpc.

you’re entitled to your safe space, but this is a public platform and you are also responsible for maintaining your safe space. you shouldn’t put it entirely on other people to do that for you. you can block, blacklist, make up funny names for, or spitefully erase from your many anything and anyone that you wish. but you shouldn’t make your friends do it for you.

there’s always an inherent power imbalance when any kind of drama occurs between those who have more followers / friends / connections and those who do not. and the smaller blog is always going to suffer a little bit more because they don’t have people blindly coming to their defense. 

bad moments, bad experiences, bad decisions DO NOT equal bad people. 

allow people to make up their own mind about something or someone

anywho, if you read through this whole thing i think i owe you financial compensation. but also thank you for reading / listening / considering. even if you rolled your eyes through the whole thing like “stfu lia” that’s fine. i’m just presenting an alternative thought. i’d like to once again state: i’m not judging you if you’ve made a callout/DNI or if you’re on a callout/DNI. like i literally don’t care. and frankly, in my opinion, i shouldn’t have to. because i, and you, and your friends, and your mutuals, and your non-mutuals should be allowed the space to make up their own opinion and mind on something or someone without being told that there will be consequences if they don’t agree with you. set boundaries. communicate in healthy ways. you don’t have to forgive the people who have hurt or wronged you, but you also don’t get to decide that their actions make up 100% of who they are as a person, or decide that that is the only side of that person people should get to see. 

#ʟᴇᴛ’s ᴛᴀʟᴋ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʀᴜʟᴇs ⸺ psa. #/ long post cw. #when i say long i mean LONG #i could do an entire dissertation on this #i could do a ted talk #but ys know #if anyone wanted to do some ahem non-light reading this morning #*jazz hands* #( if you want to reblog this monstrosity you definitely can )

[soundsaboutrighttumblr]

Okay, meta of the scene in ep 5 between Shu Yi’s Dad and Shi De.

Shame on me, because I have to digress at the very beginning even, because that piggy back scene reminded me of something Sam said in an interview, and that is that Yu’s body felt soft to the touch, like a cat’s, and that it is totally a good thing. In the way he molds himself to Shi De’s back, and later slithers off him into the bed, I must say, I totally see it, what he means, and I am loving it. He’s probably very good at winding himself out of your hold when he doesn’t want to be there, and fitting himself to every part of your body when he wants to. Bendy, non-resistant, viscuous, long, warm limbs, I can just imagine the morning stretches. And yeah, I would totally try to pet him, even at the dangers of scratch and bite.

Back to topic:

That scene with Dad. I laughed out loud several times, it is amazing, but also heart wrenching and a psychological roller coaster of course, but I loved how the acting toed the line between serious and comical at times. How Shu Yi’s Dad seems so much like Shu Yi in some moments, when he angrily stalked over towards a wide-eyed Shi De – with Shu Yi on his back-, or later the end of the scene, his impulsive face journey, and how you can see where Shu Yi got his bearings and mannerisms from. Great choice of actor, great acting, I laughed so hard.

On to the psychological ride that is this scene:

So, we’re still digesting the piggy back ride with Big Cat Shu Yi, and there he comes, Dad, dorky and enthusiastic and overbearing, already in Shu Yi’s apartment, with food and presents, but so happy to see his son.

And he comes face to face with a doe eyed, clumsy looking, caught in the act-mannered Gao Shi De, and of course that phallic symbol in Dad’s hand has to be broken for effect (You know, the phallus shaped snack that Shu Yi really likes, that Shi De will take to him later?).

And the music and all plays into the comedic aspect, but also into the role that Shi De takes on here, which is to a point calculated, I believe. It’S the playing weak he will be accused of later. He still tries to win Dad over by playing a more submissive role, not offending his pride, but allowing for his authority, still trying to maybe appease him for Shu Yi’s sake, to make him maybe come around without having to play hard ball.

Dad prowling over menacingly, shushing him, only to take the shoes… yeah. Laughed. His priority is his son, even if he is misguided about what he needs to protect his son from. A thought: The relatives, not the love of his live. But, of course, that is easier said than done, because Dad, too, is entangled in family and corporate webs.

But first things first, Shi De takes his big cat to the bedroom, and this time the statue and rabbit on the window can look on, because nothing scandalous is happening, the snow globe with the Statue of Liberty seems gone, no more freezing American secrets to disturb, it seems.

And is this the look of a man wo just decided that he wants to marry the one sleeping in front of him, again, and over once more? Yes, it is.

It is also the look of a man, who decided to try and win over his fiancé’s dad once more, because even if he knows Shu Yi will stand at his side against him, the happier future he wants for Shu Yi would be with Dad on their side, because despite it all they are close, so close they share mannerisms and face journeys.

So, he showers, in Shu Yi’s space probably owned by Dad, washing off past mistakes, preparing to be his best self when meeting Dad downstairs again. Also? Making Dad wait for him, what a power move, Shi De is capable all right.

When he finally comes down to meet Dad, he takes on the role of a more submissive junior again, polite and respecting authority, because he is the one who asks something that Dad thinks it is his to give, and thus hehas the disadvantage, or at least wants to appease Dad by making him feel that way.

He plays along Dad’s rules, apologizing for breaking a promise that was a set up from the beginning, and he knows.

He presents the documents of his ‘worthiness’, humbly apologizing for them to be lacking in Dad’s eyes. Dad keeps eating, not paying back any of the respect he is shown, still to caught up in his entitlement.

Dad’s remark of it being the betrothal presents is meant to ridicule Shi De’s efforts and love.

Shi De gives him one last out, when he overlooks the tone, and just says yes. You can see it as my dowry, being totally honest and unoffended, as a move of power.

And Dad falls into his trap, out of arrogance, out of underestimating Shi De. Ridiculing something, that is not his to judge, laughing. Entitled: You are never getting into my family.”

Edit: for further intricacies about dowries and betrothal presents in Asian cultures, go here a post by @noona96n​ that gives more sense to it. I’ll leave my take before reading here nonetheless, because the gist is there, lol. But that reading of the beginning of the scene with the documents and the dowry and dad’s entitlement makes more sense. 

And that is when Shi De changes course.

Leaving the submissive pose behind, sitting down at the table, an at least equal partner at the bargaining table.

And what he says, that he can let Shu Yi into his own family, because they are accepting him with open arms? It is a strike that is powerful, proving that equality, if not superiority.

It reminds me of when Shi De said in their first encounter after America, that he will accept the deal, because he knows Shu Yi will never be happy without his father’s approval.  Dad should have seen it then, maybe he did and forgot, and underestimated again.

Shi De is a psychological menace when it comes to bargaining and debating, and don’t you make the mistake to underestimate that. Now they are playing hard ball.

Because he brings Shu Yi’s happiness into it, something he knows is something Dad cares about deep down, even if he is misguided how it should look like. It also plays into parental duties and responsibilities and being a good parent, supporting your child and accepting and loving him for who he is.

He appeals to Dad’s guilt over that, all the while putting him in his place, because he, Shi De has that love that loves Shu Yi unconditionally and wants what makes him happy, he has parents that will love him and may take Dad’s place if he does a job that is lacking.

t’s also a hit to Dad’s fear of losing Shu Yi, that he admitted to in the bar, when saying not only daughters can leave their families. He treatens to take Shu Yi away into a new family.

Shi De builds himself up as Dad’s equal here, with a love that is true for Shu Yi, and also one that chooses Shu YI’s happiness. He’s saying, if they are to be competitors for Shi Yi’s love, Shi De might just come out winning, so Dad should rethink his course.

And Dad realizes then, that he has underestimated Shi De, he has leaned back in his chair while Shi De leans forward. He’s not laughing anymore.

Shi De is very confident in enunciating the syllables, leaning forward, no cowering in his eyes any longer. Everything about his posturing is dominant now. Demanding respect, not asking for it any longer.

So much that Shu Yi’s Dad is backed into a corner, offense his only defense: Are you threating me?

Now it is Shi De who is laughing. What a terrifying opponent in a negotiation. Business man and alpha males through and through… ah, alpha, wasn’t that the project that Shi De… anyway.

Shi De’s reaching out an olive branch, trying to soothe the situation for politeness sakes. All instruments in the psychological engineering of that scene.

And Dad has to give that credit, even if he gives it the tone of an insult.

“You played weak before.”

I am not sure if he means Shi De portrayed himself as weaker than he was, or if he meant play dirty. In any case, he misjudged Shi De. Edit: I think it means playing dirty. Which dad has done, too. Edit’s Edit: Although @noona96n post on the japanese subs ead in me into an iterpretation of playing weaker than he is again... I am torn. both, both is good.

And Shi De again pretends not to hear the tone, just takes it as face value, not letting Dad getting personal. But also, Shi De delivers a lethal blow:

Reminding Dad again, that yes, Shi De played that game for Shu Yi’s happiness, thus having the moral higher ground, but also reminding him that yes, he chose to play the game that way, dirty if he must, with all the capabilities he now proved to have, and that he is not afraid to sacrifice on personal levels, or his pride, to get what he wants, which is ultimately a happy Shu Yi.

Also reminding him of the emails, how dirty he COULD play, leverage that Dad until now maybe thought he still had, but that Shi de now holds over him.

You can see how Shu Yi’s dad doesn’t have anything to set against that. So, he just turns to an insult, trying to put Shi De down again.

But Shi De twists it in his mouth, taking it as confession, just to rile up Dad. Then calling him Dad/Father-in-law, to remind him that with how things are looking now, this is the foreseeable outcome of their future, one where Shi De gets his way and Dad doesn’t.

Edit: @noona96n‘s post on the japanese subs and marriage and family in Asian culture led me to believe that Dad’s scolding of calling Shi De an ungrateful creature/child, as if he was in fatherly position to do so, made Shi De trap him with the question, if he had accepted the marriage/Shi De as his child, and he calls him Dad. I also think that Dad was really impressed by Shi De’s negotiation Skills, and maybe because of that slipped up like that... For those interested, sometimes we have interesting conversations in the comments and notes, lol.

I correct myself; I think that was the lethal blow, lol.

And Dad can only turn to blind rage, lashing out with anything that comes to mind. How the incident in the company still might cost him that future with Shu Yi. Hm. Sus.

You know, the incident, where someone maybe paid a lot of money to destroy/test Shi De’s company and future, by stealing the title alpha, ahem, project alpha from him, only for Shi De to rebuild what alpha means from the ground up, out of his resources, to present it to Dad’s company? Yeah, am I getting this right? Metaphors and all?

Anyway, Shi De has his capabilities and team and support to trust he will resolve that matter, so he is not in the slightest intimidated by that veiled threat.

He concludes by turning back to politeness, thanking Dad for his criticism/warning and paying back some respect to his authority, by bowing and promising to not let him down. Being the bigger man and all.

Then he steals the food Shu Yi likes, that Dad brought, out from under him. Because he CAN.

Yeah, that frustrated face journey by Dad is everything.

But. Maybe someday, when he gets over his pride and anger, he will even be impressed by his future Son-in-law, because yeah, Dad just met his match on a psychological scheming business war-fare level. He got his a... handed back to him.

He HAS to see how that will be good for Shu Yi to have in his corner, eventually.

Edit: After reading @noona96n ‘ post on weddings and family in Asian culture, I believe that interpretation fits the beginning of the scene better, but I do think once Dad rebuffed Shi De’s ask to marry into the family so harshly, Shi De really went into ruthless negotiation mode, to prove to Dad who thinks him unworthy of his world, that he can scheme and negotiate with the best of them, it is not a negotiation of Shu Yi’s future as much as they are pithing their negotiation skills against each other, and I believe Shi De succeeds in impressing Dad, which leads to Dad’s slip up in scolding him like achild, also maybe letting slip he knows of the stolen project, even though everyone has signed confidentiality agreements.

#wbl #we best love #meta #we best love: fighting mr. 2nd #gao shi de #shu yi's dad #what a scene #phallic symbols and power plays #Shi De you are a menace #@noona96n #noona96n #episode 5

[lorelylantana]

The Difference

I was inspired to write by some of the amazing @ghostgirl19posts‘s work for Febwhump and with permission I’ve decided to write a little epilogue for the Ganon’sChampion!Link chapters, the first of which can be found here but you should also read parts two and three for this to make sense.

Overall rating: T

Warnings: Emotional Manipulation, unhealthy relationship that grows to be slightly less unhealthy.

“Did you really believe that anything would be different?”

No, she supposes she didn’t. Not really. She isn’t that stupid.

Zelda sees the dead sincerity in his eyes when he speaks, but the relief at Ganon’s fall has sparked a rebellious streak in her. She won’t let him get off that easy, so she masks her dismay with an apathetic flip of her hair.

“Just as well,” she hums, the picture of a bored princess, “As far as I’m concerned, my job is done so long as the kingdom isn’t actively on fire. I see nothing wrong with lounging about for the rest of my days. If you want to do all the paperwork, be my guest. In the meantime, I’ll be in the library. It’s been too long since I’ve read a good book.”

She doesn’t wait for permission, slipping out of his arms and breezing out the door. He stands there a moment, shocked into silence. He likely would have called after her if he wasn’t rooted to the spot by the dread sinking in his body.

“ . . . Paperwork?”

Despite Link’s insistence otherwise, Zelda did begin to notice things were different. The changes were small, incremental, but no less potent. She was not so foolish as to let her guard down, but a drop of water can cut through stone through sheer persistence.

Zelda woke up in the middle of the night needing to go to the bathroom. This was an increasingly common occurrence as her midriff expanded to accommodate the child growing there. She lay on her side, Link curled around her back and his hand on her stomach. The day after Ganon’s assassination his rooms were cleared and refurbished to house the new royal couple. 

The first difference. Their rooms were divided no longer. At first, Zelda assumed that he was tired of having to summon her and this unification was an attempt to streamline his path between her legs. She thought it a decision driven by lust, but she had to admit that their nightly escapades had decreased. He still took Zelda into his arms often enough, unwrapping her with painstaking, almost precious care and leaving her skin open to be devoured. But there were also nights like these, where the days were long and Link seemed to sense her fatigue and was content to simply lie wrapped around her, his hand never straying from her abdomen. Zelda wondered if he was as tired as she was, adjusting to kingship, but most of her husband’s mind was still a mystery to her.

Her husband.

There was no royal wedding. No dress. No grand feast to celebrate Zelda’s return to royalty. There was only an acolyte and a set of documents to be signed before she was once again dragged off to bed. They couldn’t find a priest, so they said their vows in front of the closest alternative. 

Zelda yawned and slipped out of bed to relieve herself. While she was washing her hands she took a moment to consider her reflection. 

Zelda knew there were aspects of her marriage that were unacceptable, she knew that.

But there was no denying the privilege afforded to her as queen, even if she was only a puppet. Her hair still shone, her eyes were bright, and her cheeks full. A far cry from the gaunt, weary state the servants were in. She shuddered to think of how her citizens looked outside the castle walls. The conquest of Hyrule was her fault. It was her failure to claim her birthright that brought this ruin upon him. Yet here she stood, safely tucked away, insulated from the Calamity’s devastation. 

Sometimes, when she was honest with herself, Zelda had to admit there was a part of her that was grateful for Link’s command that she stay within the castle. His mandate, cruel though it was, gave her a plausible excuse to hide from her mistakes. The castle walls were high and thick, strong enough to shut out the guilt that was her obligation. 

Zelda jerked her head to the side, unable to look herself in the eye any longer. She padded back into the room. Instead of heading straight back to bed, though the promise of warmth against the late fall evening was tempting, she was drawn to the window. The guardians still roamed the streets of the shattered Castle Town. They were malicious no longer, only patrolling out of ancient duty, but none dared approach. Above all the ruin, the sky was clear of Ganon’s hateful red. At least she could see the stars. 

“Come to bed.”

Zelda turned to where Link lay, staring at her. She supposed he finally lost his patience with her idling. If she were a more fanciful woman, Zelda would think he was fussing over her standing in a room that chilled when the fire died in the hearth. She returned to the massive bed Link claimed as theirs and sat down, kicking her slippers off before sliding back under the lush, heavy comforter. Link’s hand was back on her stomach before she settled, an imitation of a caring husband so convincing it was cruel.

She didn’t cry, because tears were a cry for help she didn’t deserve.

Before her growing stomach prevented it, Zelda spent most of her days firmly ensconced in Link’s lap as he looked over documents. He refused to ask for the help any of the few conquered noblemen that still lived, as he insisted such an action was beneath him. Besides, what better way to remind the captive queen of her place than to make her explain all of this bureaucratic nonsense? 

“What exactly is the point of a crop rotation?” he huffed as he read the agricultural proposal over lunch. Zelda finished off her sandwich before answering.

“Different plants require different nutrients from the land to grow. If you grow the same crop in the same field every year, eventually those nutrients will deplete. Switching things up gives the soil an opportunity to regain those specific nutrients while reducing the amount of bad harvests.”

Link hummed as he signed his approval of the proposal. All of this drivel was really giving him a headache. He reached for the last half of his sandwich, but Zelda got there first, plucking it off of his plate and sinking her teeth into it. Child crafting was a hungry business, after all. 

Link disguised his failed reach by redirecting it around Zelda so his arms circled her waist, both hands resting on her stomach. He supposed a sense of entitlement was a good quality for a queen to have.

He didn’t need that sandwich anyway.

The powers that be must have finally resigned themselves that he was here to stay. They must have given up on his downfall, and instead must have focused on encouraging what little virtue he had. They must be, for such a petty generosity to be rewarded by the baby’s first kick.

“The baby kicked!” he gasped, craning his head over her shoulder to look down at where her tummy peeked out under her breasts. 

“Yes, love, I noticed,” Zelda deadpanned, then they stilled in tandem.

Love. A word that had no business between them. Obsession, perhaps. Possession. But ‘love’?  It was laughable. Link opened his mouth to say something castigating, something harsh enough to bring back the status quo.

“Careful.”

Link’s head jerked back in surprise. She didn’t turn to look at him, ignoring him in favor of taking the apple from his plate, so he pressed.

“What did you say?” Who was she to caution him?

“Merely making an observation,” she said, turning her hand this way and that, regarding the fruit with a critical eye, “After all, what upsets the mother threatens the child.”

A chill ran down Link’s spine. Perhaps, even after all this time, he had underestimated her. He didn’t have the luxury of composing himself at his own pace, because she had turned to him. The calculating, sharp look in her eye brought him to heel.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked.

Link’s hands started rubbing again, and his lips dropped to her shoulder. He had surrendered, but he wasn’t sure if the victor was Zelda or his own traitorous heart.

“Yes, dearest.”

Zelda hummed in response, bringing a hand up to comb luxuriously through his hair. He sighed, and she brought the apple to her lips, biting into it with a satisfying crunch.

After all, a marriage bed is an arena of equals.

Perhaps the statement was insensitive, but being a pregnant queen of a ruined castle did have some perks. Primarily, it was the absolute lack of regard for decorum. Despite the circumstances, Zelda felt a lighthearted thrill of walking around the palace, once a place of rigid etiquette, in nothing but a nightgown and silk robe. Link’s insistence, of course. When her corset was no longer comfortable to wear, Link inferred that her dresses would be too tight as well. He could have had new ones made, but why bother with garments that would have to be altered half a dozen times? No, it was far more efficient for his queen to lounge about in her nightgowns. 

Of course, the knee length hem had absolutely nothing to do with it. Link didn’t even notice when a knee length gown in the first trimester stopped at the top of her thighs in the third. Or the fact that Zelda stopped wearing anything underneath when putting something on became difficult. Irrelevant, all of it.

If he happened to capitalize on the opportunities it afforded to him, fine, but that was an entirely separate matter.

Zelda stretches, trying to release some of the tension in her back, before falling stiffly back into her chaise. It was absurd, but the moment he realized she could no longer fit in his lap he’d commissioned a modified chaise specifically for her and had it brought to the office. She said it was overkill, but he didn’t care. That said, her back had grown to appreciate the reclined seat and cushions.  

Still, one couldn’t help the stiffness that came with sitting for long periods of time. Perhaps she should take a turn about the room? Zelda swung her legs down, then started probing for her slippers. Surely they must be in the same spot she left them? Still, with her stomach as large as it was she couldn’t really see.

Link knelt on the floor next to her, having gotten up the moment he saw her sit up. He took her foot in his hand gently while the other reached under the chaise to pull out the missing footwear. He delicately put the slipper on one foot, perhaps wary of hurting her swollen ankles. He repeated the action with her other foot before wordlessly helping her stand, even though he knew she didn’t need it.

At least, she thought she didn’t. Turns out, fate had other plans, and Zelda felt an intense cramping in her lower abdomen, causing her to double over with a start.

“Zelda!? Zelda, tell me what’s wrong?”  

She looked him in the eyes, the same concern held in his grip supporting her arms shining in his eyes.

“Call the midwives.”

The night was quiet. Link would swear that it was the first peaceful moment since Ganon’s rise. Although, it’s entirely possible that this tranquility was an illusion born of the chaos of the day preceding. Now his lovely wife was sleeping, exhausted, in the bed while he sat in a chair next to her. 

The baby in his arms huffed, and Link’s attention was drawn from the Zelda sleeping in the bed to the one resting in his arms.

They had to name her Zelda. Of course they did. Other names didn’t seem to fit.

The people of Hyrule couldn’t be trusted to look after his daughter, they were losers! How could they be trusted with someone so precious when they couldn’t even win one war? They couldn’t, simple as that. No, the only ones who were capable of looking after little Zelda were himself and his queen, no others. 

But then who would run the country?

Link supposed he could carry on, leaving the childrearing to Zelda as he made sure any and all threats were eliminated before they even looked at the castle. Baby Zelda squirmed, one of her arms coming loose of her swaddling and slapping him in the face.

What was he thinking? Zelda couldn’t hone these raw battle instincts. She can’t even do a backflip, much less after giving birth. Besides, why should she get all the time with the baby? He’s the king! He should get to do what he wants, and he wants to raise his little girl. Zelda can handle affairs of the state well enough. Not right away of course, she needs time to recuperate, but after a few months she should be more than capable of take Hyrule’s reins while he looks after the little one.

“Come here,”

Link looked to the bed, Zelda was sitting up. He moved to help her, but she waved him away, pulling herself into a sitting position with a wince. Once she was settled he slid under the blankets. Zelda undid her nightgown, allowing their sweet daughter to latch on her breast. She winced.

“Does it hurt?” he asked with a frown. She shook her head.

“It’s a bit uncomfortable, I’ll get used to it.”

Link put an arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her to him. She leaned on him, resting her drowsy head in the crook of his neck, and Link was overcome. He couldn’t fight anymore. It was time to admit defeat.

He pressed his nose into her hair, “I love you.”

When his statement was met with silence, he thought she had fallen back asleep, or perhaps his whispered words were lost in the crown of her head. Then, like a dream, she answered.

“I love you, too.” 

Outside, a cool breeze blows through the land, a sigh of relief as the first sprout pushes through the earth, marking the beginning of a new era.

#the legend of zelda #zelink #tw #emotional manipulation #botw zelink #link #zelda #Lantana Lore #LoZ AU #LantanaLore #tw pregnancy

[shit-mcu-stans-write]

submission from anon: essay on rhodey

my apologies that this is so long. i had a lot more to say than i realised and this… just kind of happened.

so… lieutenant colonel james “jim” rupert “rhodey” rhodes… i have a lot of feelings about him and his character development and for once… i actually like what i see from the mcu. i love what the mcu has completely unintentionally done for him and i find it absolutely hilarious because i know it’s 100% unintentional, because they’d never purposefully make rhodey’s character development so anti-tony-stark. but that’s what we’ve been presented with. and i love it. hear me out:

in iron man 1 rhodey starts as tony’s babysitter. rhodey says so himself: “you don’t respect yourself so I know you don’t respect me - i’m just your babysitter” but despite the fact he knows tony doesn’t respect him, he’s still there for tony, still supporting him, still showing him as much love as he can no matter how little tony gives back. he puts it down the the fact tony doesn’t respect himself; he’s reckless and childish and doesn’t take responsibility for his actions. rhodey might be being sarcastic and snarky when he’s saying “when you need your diaper changed let me know and I’ll get you a bottle” but there’s some truth to it: he can’t help but mother-hen tony, because someone has to be responsible for the kid (he sure as hell can’t be responsible for himself!), and rhodey has put himself in that position.

i think a lot of that’s to do with the fact they both met really young in mit, with rhodey being a couple (?) years older than tony at the time. they stuck together because they were both in the unique position of being child prodigies, but because rhodey was the older of the two i think he quickly settled into a caregiving role. but by iron man 1, rhodey has emotionally matured, and tony hasn’t. he hasn’t needed to, being a white billionaire boy and all. so rhodey still sees tony as this kid he’s always been there for, always protecting, always giving and giving and giving to, and putting up with. they’ve been friends for so long that he’s used to it.

by iron man 2, rhodey is fed up. tony is being even more reckless than usual because he’s dying but no one knows, so rhodey is being pushed to his breaking point. there’s a deleted scene where rhodey says something which i feel says everything you need about what their relationship has become by now: “hanging out with you is bad for our friendship”. rhodey is starting to realise just how impossible being an actual friend - not just a yes-man and support staff - for tony is. and all that culminates in the fight scene where, upon seeing tony drunk and endangering his party guests in a WMD supersuit, rhodey reaches that breaking point. protects tony from himself one last time by fighting him, then cuts ties.

only, by the end of iron man 2, rhodey learns that taking the suit to the military and letting hammer get his paws on it was a bad idea, and that tony was literally near death the whole time he was being a dick, and then they have to team up to defeat vanko together. so despite having gone through all the shit tony’s put him through and realising how terrible a friend tony actually is, he chalks this all up to a mistake and a misunderstanding on his part. gives tony a second (or, more realistically, hundredth) chance. which is why in iron man 3 they’re best buds again. im3 is probably the healthiest depiction of their relationship tbh, and that’s on im3 tony being the least assholeish depiction of tony in the whole mcu (imo).

but tony’s character begins to sour massively from AOU onwards (not saying he wasn’t an… abrasive character beforehand, to say the least, but clearly all the guilt from causing ultron and inadvertently causing the mess in sokovia is affecting him and his relationships; pepper, another caregiving character that has put up with tony’s entitled, misogynistic bullshit for years, has left him, and i think that’s a massive sign that he’s spiralling in a similar way he did in im2. after all, the writers refuse to develop him as a character, which means he’ll never get help for his mental health and never learn healthy coping mechanisms. i honestly wonder what happened for pepper to leave - we’ve seen the breaking point for rhodey, so what was hers?)

so yeah, anyway, tony is starting to spiral again from AOU. civil war happens - he blames the team and latches onto the accords as a way to absolve himself of the guilt, bla bla bla, you know the plot. and, just like the others, rhodey is given mere days to read, consider, and sign this life-changing document; not only is his best friend vehemently, vocally, and violently in favour these documents, they’re also coming from a position of power that he, as a military man, respects. so it makes sense he’d initially be on the side of the accords.

and then something even more life-changing than the accords happens for rhodey. sam accidentally shoots him down and he injures his legs so bad that he can’t walk without support. and rhodey’s response to that? i know we don’t get to see much of rhodey’s response and recovery, which is a travesty, but what we do get? really sheds some light on the kind of man rhodey is, and how he develops as a person by the end of endgame. 

for once in his life, rhodey is in the position of needing to be cared for - and on top of that, tony is the one offering. we also see that rhodey wants his recovery to be something he does alone as much as he possibly can, because that’s just the kind of person he is; we see the sheer amount of value he places on his ability to handle things on his own, and the skyrocket-high responsibility he holds himself to. and now all of a sudden tony’s actually trying to reciprocate the attention and care he’s shown him without reward for years (and only because of this guilt spiral he’s been on since AOU)… and that must have been fucking jarring for rhodey.

i think the sudden and strange role reversal probably helped him work out a few things about his relationship with tony a lot. which is why, when infinity war rolls around, they don’t interact. rhodey seems closer to and more in alignment with the “rogues”/“nomads” than tony. where once he agreed with the accords, he’s had some time to actually read them and reconsider them, and he’s against them now! he hates ross and greets steve with a warm hug!

and something i love so fucking much about infinity war (dispite all it’s other faults)? sam and rhodey’s relationship. sam shot rhodey down and disabled him for the rest of his life. and rhodey forgives him. first of all, because that’s the kind of person rhodey is (he’s had plenty of practice forgiving all kinds of shit with tony), and rhodey understands it was a mistake (and probably empathises with how horrible it must have been for sam; he’s military too, he understands that specific kind of guilt). interesting to compare rhodey’s response to the mistake with tony’s. and heartwarming to see that, for once, when rhodey forgives someone for what they’ve done, he is given gratitude and a genuine two-way friendship in response. i live for sam and rhodey’s every interaction in iw.

and then we get to endgame. know how many times rhodey interacts with tony in endgame? twice. first interaction: “okay, you made your point - just sit down, okay?” (read: “stop acting like a child before you hurt yourself”). second interaction: *sadly touches his face as he realises he’s dying before moving aside to let peter and pepper say their goodbyes*. what i love about these interactions - and the lack of any other interactions - is what it clearly means for rhodey:

1) tony still means a lot to rhodey. he’ll always mean a lot to him. they were best friends since they were literally just kids at mit. he’ll always, i think, love tony and want to care for and protect him (from himself, mainly). and tony, in his own way, will always love rhodey. but, 2) rhodey has still, nevertheless, cut ties with tony. i think the time away from action caused by the long recovery process he would’ve went through not only let rhodey reconsider his stance on the accords and his superiors in the military such as ross, but it also gave him time (and a wildly new perspective) to realise how toxic his relationship with tony truly is.

and what’s great to compare the way in which and reasons why he cuts ties with tony after civil war compared to the way in which and reasons why he cut ties with tony during im2, is that rhodey hasn’t been pushed to his breaking point this time. he has way more agency in his choice this time. he’s not leaving because he’s been infuriated one time too many; he’s doing it because he’s actually being given the kind of support he himself has been dishing out all these years… and doesn’t want it. not if it’s coming from the place of convenience and guilt that it is with tony. he cannot be guilt-tripped into forgiving tony anymore because he is making his choice this time with clear-mindedness.

and you know what’s so great about him finally genuinely cutting ties with tony this time around? he’s no longer his yes-man. he gets space to breathe as his own character. he jokes around more. he’s not annoyed all the time. he gets involved with the rest of the team. as i’ve said, he interacts with sam and it’s beautiful. he interacts with nebula and it’s heartwarming and they form a bond so quickly. and in all the new interactions he gets you see he is receiving so much more respect and reciprocation than he’s ever experienced with tony. and it makes me so happy.

also i can’t help but think about how it’s also a pretty big deal for him as a black character to go through all of these revelations and developments; black kids are often encouraged/forced to mature mentally/emotionally a lot quicker than white kits, and take on responsibility that shouldn’t be their burden to bear from a young age (which i think was absolutely something rhodey experienced as a highly intelligent black child), and it’s not uncommon for black characters to be portrayed in these caregiving roles to Hurt White Characters. so for him to break out of that box is just beautiful.

tony, on the other hand, is a white billionaire who never learned how to grow up; he’s never had to handle the kind of daily-grind stress that non-billionaire poc like rhodey have handled since they were a kid. not saying tony hasn’t faced other kinds of stress, but for the most part? everything has been given to him on a shiny golden platter. so when responsibility is thrust upon him - when his faults are actually pointed out - he doesn’t know how to handle it. hasn’t learned. it destroys his mental health. he gets destructive in turn. irreparably damages his relationships. spirals and spirals and refuses. to get. help. (you’re a billionaire, tony - you can afford a therapy. and the idealisation/romanticisation of unhealthy guilt spirals and a mindset of powering through despite everything and without asking for help until you crash and burn is not good mental illness/neurodivergent rep, it’s just the only one the mcu knows how to write.) i despair at the loss of opportunity when it comes to tony’s character and what he could have come to represent, but that’s another essay entirely.

when it comes to rhodey, however, the mcu have accidentally created a wonderful character and a wonderful character arc. that’s not to say they deserve any praise though, because this was likely never their intention and it’s purely accidental (again, they’d never purposefully give rhodey such an anti-tony character arc, just like they’d never intentionally make tony a bad role model, but that’s what they did, completely accidentally).

not only is rhodey a character who is unwaveringly kind and forgiving (and is rewarded for these traits later down the line in his new relationships), but we also get to see him learn how his kindness and forgiveness shouldn’t be taken for granted as it has been for years of his life. we see him step away from harmful relationships. we see him take back his life for himself - refuse to be someone else’s nanny. we see his growth and his development, and it’s wonderful, and i love him.

in conclusion: war machine rox. 

#oh my god i love this! #this was the best read #thank you. SO MUCH for submitting this!!!!! #anti tony stark #james rhodes #submission

[checkurwindow]

since you walked out

Book: Open Heart

Warnings: Mentions of Christianity around the start if that requires a warning and one or two swears but other than that nothing much. Also a good amount of flashbacks. And while you’re at it, here’s my masterlist for more angst-filled works!

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Bryce x F!MC

Word Count: 3200+ A little higher than my usual word count but not the highest (Check out the fic with a word count of over 5200!)

Author’s Note: Finally back from my little break with a new Bryce fic. I got a burst of inspiration listening to songs and decided to write this. Also, flashbacks are in italic. Enjoy!

For as long as she could remember, her family would always drag her to church. They were always very religious. She would always be forced into a dress when they went out, constantly reminded to “act like a lady” whenever there were boys around, she’d be pushed to be the poster child of the perfect Christian.

When she was fourteen, she went into church on a Monday, for a funeral instead. She instantly noticed the change in tone the moment she set foot on the marble steps out front, and ever since then, she looked at churches a little differently. She realised that they held an entirely different meaning than she once thought. She learned that they could be just as devastating and sad as they were celebratory.

Like now, where people gathered at the steps, mingling and conversing in expensive clothes that they weren’t going to wear again. There was a truck out on the lawn a bit further from where she was, the workers hastily moving tables and decorations to a tent that was set up at the back. To her side, there were a handful of people complimenting a little girl in a white dress. 

A stretch limousine pulled up at the side of the road and a few women climbed out of the car, all wearing matching pale coloured dresses. 

She tugged at her own dress and hoped that the simple colour of her own dress would allow her to blend into the crowd and go about unnoticed. Aurora had told her it was fine; besides, it wasn’t as if a fancy new dress was something that would fit in her budget. 

And it wasn’t like anyone here would care about her, much less her appearance and what she’s wearing. If someone was to take notice of her, it definitely wouldn’t be because of her dress. They weren’t there for her. In fact, she was yet to spot a single familiar face, which should have been a good thing for her, but she couldn’t help but wonder how many of the guests present both parties actually knew and had met prior to that day.

“Would you ever get married?”

He let out an annoyed sigh, “marriage isn’t as meaningful as one might think, why should I have to document my love to you if we both already know the truth?”

“Okay,” she said, a little disappointed, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a fancy tux,” she smiled, but it didn’t seem to affect him in the slightest.

“Is that really why you want a wedding? Because I would gladly put on something as simple as a tux if it meant that you’d be down t-”

“No, that’s not the only reason. I’d like a wedding, I think that it’d be nice. It wouldn't even have to be a big one,” she could imagine them on a beach, maybe a small service in their apartment, she wouldn’t even have minded just going to the courthouse and having a nice dinner afterward. 

“It’s not like we’d have enough people for a big wedding anyway, we’re always so busy.”

She sat down next to him and stroked his thick brown hair with her fingers, “we could just invite our friends from edenbrook, and my parents, you know how much they love you. We don’t need a bunch of people around to have a wedding.”

“Good, because I don’t want a giant guest list where there are different number tables and- and a full service and a grand ceremony. I just...I just want you.”

She wondered how much of this was total bullshit.

From where she was standing, she didn’t think anyone would approach her. The lake behind them was breathtaking, but the crowd was rather anxious and impatient, they were waiting to sit down and for the ceremony to start.

Some people passed by her, and she picked up on certain things they said, like how “beautiful the church is” or “she picked out the perfect dress, her father was crying because it was so pretty” and her favorite one, “just wait till you see this guy, they are just perfect for each other.”

Perfect.

“I told you, I can’t dance.”

“And I was a fool not to believe you, you’ve stepped on my foot so many times I think it’s bruised,” he teased then laughed when she hit his shoulder.

“I hate you,” she looked up at the dark sky above them and shuddered at the thunder that rumbled, “why are we even doing this?”

“Because dancing in the rain is on my bucket list,” he twirled her around then hurriedly pulled her back in when she started to fumble and stumble.

“Okay, but why right now with me? You seriously expect me to believe that all throughout your life you haven’t had a chance to dance in the rain?” she grimaced as she felt a few drops of water drip into her eye.

“Maybe I was just waiting for the perfect person to share this experience with,” he wrapped his hand around her waist and she chuckled.

“Perfect? Please, I am far from perfect,” they met each other’s gaze and she got butterflies just from seeing that look in his eyes. 

“That may be true, but this is perfect,” the rain started to get heavier, their clothes and hair completely soaked long ago, “you and me, here right now, together. It’s perfect.”

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear the sound of metal and wheels quickly approaching her, only being knocked out of her trance when he called out to her. She turned her head a little too fast, scared that she would be caught, afraid that there would be a giant scene, and that she would lose her chance.

At what exactly, she hadn’t really figured out yet.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Elijah was always so welcoming, she never once felt out of place with him by her side. Even now, despite the circumstances, he still held a small smile on his face as he approached her, dressed nicely in a suit, even his wheelchair had little decorations.

“Hey, Elijah,” She gripped her own arm, unsure if it would be inappropriate to interact with him even more than she already had, “I like the decorations on your wheelchair.”

“Thanks,” he said, “Phoebe and I made them together,” he moved a little in his seat to show off a few hidden decorations. He looked just the same as she had really seen him up close almost a year ago.

“It looks nice! How...how have you been?” She didn’t really know what she was doing. Maybe she was hoping the small talk would be a distraction for the time being, she wasn’t ready to talk about the obvious out in the open just yet. 

“I’m doing okay. Phoebe and I moved in together a couple weeks back, it’s going well...” he trailed off with a fond smile on his face. 

“I’m happy for you, Elijah. You really deserve it.”

He smiled, “thanks. What have you been up to?” 

She winced and tried not to fidget. “Nothing much, really. I visited my parents a few days ago. Everything’s like usual, it’s good.”

He nodded, and just like a wave, tension flooded the air around them. 

She refused to look down and meet his eyes, to either see full curiosity, disappointment, or any other mood that would just make her feel sick to her stomach, will have her asking the same question over and over to herself. However, the silence couldn’t stay too long. 

“What- why are you here?” He asked in a sympathetic tone. 

An older woman was yelling at a worker, wanting more champagne for the bride's suite. She was aggressive, and yet the guests around her weren’t baffled at her behavior in the slightest.

She hated entitlement, hated more when the rich forgot that other people aren’t as fortunate enough as them. 

She also hated that he was still staring at her while she was wondering if her own mother would be so stressed to the point of lashing out at others around her.

“How long have they been engaged?” She found herself asking the question as a desperate last attempt to quiet her thoughts of if they were stuck in one place and never seemed to want more.

“6 months,” he responded, knowing what those two little words would do to her, “she’s sweet, she has a good heart, she doesn’t push him.”

Ouch.

“And she makes him happy.”

Another stab of pain.

“Do you ever think that we were...unhappy?” His facial expression went soft when she finally looked him in the eye. He tried to think of all the ways he could word his next sentence carefully, but it was no use; he knew she could see the real answer on his face.

“I think you two...worked well together. I think you enjoyed the company of one another, and maybe you were even in love once-”

Once.

“-but that’s in the past.”

Past.

“Right now, over a hundred people are here to celebrate what’s best for them.”

Them. 

It was something unspoken, but she picked up on his hints and nudges, she knew what he was trying to get at. She knew that he was wordlessly telling her that her presence was unwelcome and that it would be for the best if she left.

Why was she here? Why did she think that today would be the day to confess her feelings that never drifted away? Why was she so selfish, and think that her happiness was more important than his?

She heard swift footsteps approach her and Elijah. She slowly turned around, hoping it wouldn’t be the one person who could cause her to break down and fall apart with just a single glance.

“What are you doing here? You weren’t invited, you aren’t supposed to be here!” Keiki lashed out. She was loud, almost yelling at her, and it was causing a scene, something she really didn’t want. Keiki looked like she was about to jump her when Elijah moved in between them, separating them with his wheelchair. 

“Relax, Keiki,” He looked back at her with a pointed look, “she was just leaving.”

There was a pause, and she almost believed that yes, she was leaving. That was her cue, no one wanted her here, she wasn’t supposed to be here. Who was she to ruin a wedding? How could she do something so terrible to him

“Move in with me,” he ran his hand over her back, listening closely to her slow breaths.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’d be nice, getting to come back home after a long day of surgery and join you in bed, falling asleep together,” he thought she was already half asleep and couldn’t even register much less comprehend a single word of what he was saying.

He was proven wrong when she raised her head and looked back at him in the dark room, the only source of light from the window that was cracked open just enough to let the cool night air flow in.

“You’re right. I’m doing internal medicine so I don’t get to see you at the hospital as much as I’d like. This would definitely make up for the lost time,” she smirked as he nudged her gently with his leg. 

“Definitely,” he laughed softly.

She kissed his chest and smiled up at him, “if I move in, there’s no turning back. I can’t afford to keep switching back and forth.”

He smiled, “I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather want you to be.”

She gave them a curt nod with a tight-lipped smile, her lips quivering in the slightest as she walked backward a few steps before fully turning her back on them, on him.

She walked past the crowd, past the church, past the parking lot, all the way down to the end of the lake. She was away from everything else, but not from her own lingering thoughts.

There was no way she was leaving, she couldn’t allow herself to, no matter how much she wanted to run away and forgot about everything. Even from where she stood, she could hear the beats of the wedding music. 

Can’t Help Falling In Love, Elvis Presley.

Tears welled up at the sides of her eyes as she remembered the last time she had heard that song. That was the song he had played from his car as they danced in the rain. It was one of his favourites, she always thought that that song would play as she walked down the aisle towards him. She supposed it was true for him, but only him.

Her feet had already started to move before her mind could even have the chance to make a decision.

There was an elderly couple just walking into the room, and luckily the doorman held the large wooden door open for her. She thanked him and took the grand venue in. On each bench, there was a bouquet of flowers, a white row leading up to the altar. It was packed, and she could only imagine how many people she was about to shock. 

She sat in an empty aisle seat in the back, and finally realized that she was just reaching the top of the stairs, kissing her father’s cheek before he gave her over to him. 

“Should I cut my hair?” He asked, looking at his hair in the mirror with a slight frown.

“No, I like it the way it is. It’s nice,” she said from the bed, her eyes still on the book in her hands. 

“Eh, it’s too long; and it uses way too much gel to make it neat in the mornings. And it gets really messy again when I take my scrub cap off after surgery.” 

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, nestling her face against his sides, “well, personally, I really like it, but it is your hair. You know I’ll still love you no matter how your hair is, even if you’re bald.

“If I’m bald this early in life, please leave me. My head does NOT look good bare, trust me.”

“Nope. I’ll still be with you, even if you’re bald and I still have a head full of thick hair. You’re mine forever,” a grin formed on his face and he turned around, planting his lips on hers.

“I better be.”

The once cherished moments only seemed to hurt her more than she already was. Sometimes memories are the worst form of torture, especially when the person who shared those memories is gone.

He looked just like she had imagined. In fact, he hadn’t changed that much. He was dressed in a sharp and expensive-looking tux, his hair gelled and combed perfectly, the only flaw was that his smile didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

He had done everything he told her he would never do, yet it was for another woman.

Swallowing back the growing lump in her throat, she tapped her foot nervously as the minister started to speak.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate-”

“Stop being such a poor sport!”

“You cheated! You know what, it doesn’t matter, because I know the real truth.”

“The truth? Fine, I’ll tell you the damn truth! Bryce Lahela sucks at Mario Kart!”

“You take that back!”

“Throughout their time together, they have realised that their dreams and aspirations are more meaningful through a beautiful combination of mutual love and support.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Are you kidding? You got the first solo surgery of your class! You’ve come so far, Bryce. You study, you practice, heck, you’re at the hospital even more than I am! You deserve this, Bryce, you deserve everything good that you have in your life.”

“Does that include you? Because I still don’t think I deserve that one yet,” he smirked and kissed her forehead. 

“As we create this marriage, we create a new bond and a new sense of family.”

“I hope our kids have your eyes.”

“If we’re thinking about children, I have no problem shoving them right back up there if they don’t look exactly like you.” 

“Bryce, honey, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying. Your eyes, your nose, your smile, I want them to have everything I love about you. Which is every single thing feature and personality trait of yours. Maybe except your sense of style, I think they’d be better off with mine.”

“Hey!”

“Now, before they begin their vows, if anyone can show just cause as to why this couple lawfully cannot be wed together in this holy matrimony,”

“You’re being ridiculous!” 

“No, I’m the only one being reasonable! You can’t seriously think that I’m just going to let this go!”

“Where are we going? We’re stuck in the same spot and have been for a long time, I can’t do it anymore!”

“Then don’t,” she croaked out, the quietest any one of them had been that entire conversation.

“Speak now, or forever hold your pe-”

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” she wiped away the tears at the side of her eyes as he held her closer to his chest, “and I’m terrified.” 

She pushed her doubts away and stood up, interrupting the silence in the church. 

Almost immediately, every single eye was on her, except one pair, the only pair of eyes she wanted to look at her. Gasps rippled all throughout the crowd, one woman even let out a horrified yell, and a man a few rows in front of her scoffed. The commotion was big enough to draw the bride and groom’s attention away from each other.

A surge of warmth flowed through her body as his brown eyes connected to hers. 

Bryce’s emotions went in flashes. He was a bit confused at first, as to why their loved ones were making so much noise just as they were about to be married. Then it was anger after realising that it was a result of someone objecting to their wedding. Lastly, it was sadness after he saw who exactly had stopped them.

Maybe it was because he hasn’t seen her since she walked out. Maybe it was because she was ruining his special day. Maybe it was because he knew she had lost her chance years ago, and that even he knew it was too late to turn back time.

Maybe it was because he knew exactly how this situation would turn out. Maybe it was because he was about to have to break her heart one last time.

She took a shuddering breath, then uttered those three little words that could shatter the hearts of everyone in the room. But she ignored the appalled expressions of the crowd, she ignored the angry expression of Keiki, ignored the devastated look on the woman who stood on the very spot she had hoped for so long to stand in.

Instead, she focused on the man at the very end of the altar, desperation and longing in her eyes. Instead, she focused on him, on the smallest quirk at the side of his lips, the smallest chance that he could still provide her with the hope and love that he had once promised so long ago.

#there were some lines in there that BROKE ME #pixelberry choices #open heart #choices #choices open heart #open heart book 2 #Bryce Lahela #doctor bryce lahela #choices bryce lahela #open heart bryce #choices bryce #open heart book 1 #Bryce x mc #Bryce Lahela x mc #playchoices #pixelberry #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #open heart angst #open heart one shot #elijah greene #choices elijah greene #open heart elijah #keiki lahela #open heart keiki #choices keiki #choices fic writers creations #fic of the week #angst #checkurwindow writes

[kittehkwrites-backup]

Out of Time (Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 3

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Summary:

The team goes back to the compound to debrief and find out the two super soliders may not be the only ones out of their time.

Warnings: mentions of death (but not major)

Gifs & images aren’t mine.

The team had made into the new facility and agreed they’d meet back in the conference room, after having cleaned up and had some nourishment, to debrief and discuss the findings from the intel Nat and Tony got a hold of.

Steve was currently sitting on the edge of his bed when he pulled out a small letter box, containing copious amounts of envelopes, cards, a few small passport sized photos and some smaller scrap paper with sketches on them.

He had ran his finger over the sorted envelopes and plucked one out at random.

Steven Grant Rogers

He looked at his name and brushed his thumb over the cursive writing.

He hadn’t looked through this box often since being out of the ice and since the death of Peggy.

But today made him do it. The shocking revelation that someone else from his past may still be living and still in her youth, like he and Bucky, made him question how and why he hadn’t even looked into finding out what happened.

Shaking his head at the thought he opened the aged envelope carefully and saw the small note in her handwriting.

Thank you for your service Capt.

You got our boy back, along with many others.

I knew you’d do great things, didn’t I?

Steve could almost hear her let out a giggle as she was writing this. He remembered she said he’d be great.

She always believed in me. He thought as he finished the letter

Don’t ever think I’ve forgotten about you two.

Hope you haven’t forgotten about lil ole me.

I do recall you boys saying you wouldn’t, so I’m expecting a response this time “Cap.”

Stay safe, take care of eachother and remember,

We’re routing for you here in Brooklyn.

Go be the man I knew you’d be.

Love,

Vi

She was the only one that knew who he was, outside of those he fought alongside with, the scientists who conducted the experiment and the government officials who had access to his files at the time.

Wow he thought.

All this time and he still felt warm after reading one of her letters.

She always showed kindness to the skinny boy from Brooklyn. Never once did she treat him any differently, or favour Bucky over him. She was always fair and she always had faith in them.

He flipped the paper over to see if anything else had been written and he almost broke down

P.s.

When you come back, make sure you bring Miss Carter with you.

I’d love to meet the woman you’re so head over heels for.

xooo

Steve had forgotten he made the promise to always come back and see you. It didn’t matter if he and Bucky were sick and dying. They made that promise but not even they could’ve prepared for the events which had took place many decades ago.

He had also forgotten that he mentioned Peggy to her and so reading the letter brought so many emotions he wasn’t ready to face yet.

This was sent before Bucky fell off the train, before he went under yet he didn’t even have any recollection of getting anymore letters from her after.

He had placed it back in its envelope and was going to open another when F.R.I.D.A.Y come over the houses system

Captain, Mr Stark has asked that I send out a reminder to everyone to make way to the debriefing room.

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’ll be on my way”

I shall notify mr stark and the others who are already in the room.

And with that, Steve closed the box and put it under his bed before releasing a gust of air and exiting his room.

“Ok. Lay it on me.” Nick had come in to hear the mission report once the team had returned.

“Well we all know Taskmaster and his goons have been making headway over the last few months” Said Natasha as she placed the image of the man on the holographic projector.

“Well there’s been talk of him opening a training institution.” Tony took over as he stood to meet agent Romanoff on the opposite side of the table.

“Taskmaster?” This was visions turn to ask who this character was. The other members had encountered him or heard about the man from previous missions and various connections on the ground. Vision hadn’t been present for those times and had accompanied Wanda to this particular meeting since they may need their help in the future.

“He’s a bit of an oddball, I’d say. Sometimes good, sometimes bad but it’s now just mostly bad.” Shrugged Nat as she thought about saying he was a double agent of some sort but that might be hypocritical to her and he also favoured committing crimes, receiving rewards, instead of helping others like she is now doing.

“He basically caters to the highest bidder and seeing as the bad guys are the ones with the most capital, why not market to them?” Came Nick’s summary. He had been sitting back in his chair and watching the holographs each time they changed, soaking it in.

“Anyways, the intel we gathered showed locations of some of these institutions and some even had how many were enrolled and names.” Tony said as he made the map bigger and began singling out the known locations they were able to retrieve from the mission.

“There was also a list of which of those students have been traded, or their services sold to other evil organisations.” Nat spoke up as she pointed to another list tony had shared infront of everyone.

"What we’re slightly more interested in is his accomplice.”

“They call her mainly things...”

“There’s Countess V, Lady Lila, or Commander V.”

Tony and Natasha were going back and forth explaining the basics of the accomplice in question.

“How’s it gone from V to Lila? And what’s the V stand for” Sam asked raising his finger slightly to indicate he had a question. He wasn’t the only one confused on the name change.

“From what we gathered, Lila is German for purple and it seems that people that have encountered her always mention seeing her eyes turn purple. They would draw people in and put them in hypnotic trance”

“and there had been mentions in some old compromised S.H.I.E.L.D record of a “project v” where the patient also had the visible mutation of purple irises.”

“Does that answer your question Mr Wilson?” Tony’s voice came out a bit snippy causing Sam to put his hands up in surrender. Tony caught on his attitude wasn’t needed and gave Sam a look which said sorry. Sam gave back a slight nod, acknowledging the silent apology. They were all tired and wanted to be done with this so he understood it came out harsher than intended.

“We can only assume that means she possesses the ability to manipulate others which is threatening to the government and other officials if she’s deciding on which jobs to take like Taskmaster makes his decisions.” Being able to access codes and data only to give them to an enemy of the nation or state for some cash was enough to put anyone on edge, especially sine they’ve only go found out about this woman, and that she’s working for an entitled criminal.

“She was last time-stamped back in the 40’s, around the same time Mr Barnes was presumed dead, as a missing person, yet here she is now” The team knew that it was tough to mention that period in Bucky’s life but Nick knew it was important for emphasis.

“What does this person look like?” Wanda sounded. She had heard of the project back when sh was being tested on along with her brother, yet no one had an image in their heads of who project V was or the full extent of their powers, just that they were using the same methods and the serum they extracted from her at some point to test on others.

Only problem was that everyone was different and so everyone present different powers or enhancements that didn’t seem to be fully connected with all of hers.

Nick stood from his chair and made way to where agent Romanoff and Stark were standing.“May I?” He asked Tony when referring to using the device to retrieve the photo.

“By all means” Tony has stepped back as Nick put in his credentials for the database.

“We found this image under a file left open from a hydra agent working undercover.” He pushed the holographic image to the rest of the team, it rotating in the center of the table

At the sight of the image, both Steve and Bucky stiffened and the team turned to look at the two

It’s her, they both thought.

“I can assume you know this face?” The team kept watching the two men and wondered if the person that caused them to freeze on the roof during the mission was her.

“She was a friend.” Uttered Bucky. He had turned his head down at the thought of seeing her face again. Hs doesn’t know why, but he’s felt like he’s seen her before. Maybe his memory was still foggy. He was probably hallucinating is what he thought when he attempted to recall whether or not it was a true memory or false.

Even with the help of Shuri and the Wakandan doctors, they just weren’t able to unlock certain areas of his momery like they were able to get rid of the trigger words he was once controlled by.

They had suggested getting help from Wanda but he was apprehensive until now. Maybe this was the push he needed to try and fill in more gaps.

“She lived in the same building as me before they injected me with the serum when I got enlisted... I thought she’d be much older, or dead.” Steve face was scrunched up in confusion at the revelation that his first lo- well the first person he’s felt deeply for, was still alive, or at least he thought she was the same person as he remembered.

“Well it seemed that the same doctor that experimented on Steve, Dr Erskine, had a hand in this but stopped once he realised they were doing this for the wrong reasons.”Nick was leaning over the table and bring up more documents they had found or were able to retrieve.

The more documents brought up, the more the two soldiers figured the person they thought they knew probably wasn’t all she had been. This was something big to Nick also, it seemed he was deeply invested if he was willing to look for all these documents and translations that he was providing.

“So this was before Steve?” Clint asked looking at Natasha who had kept her head down.

“Not exactly. The project was a round the same time as Steve and from what we gathered, she was one of the few that passed all the tests they had set out.” Tony explained.

Nick watched as Natasha remained with her eyes down. She was playing it off as if she was looking at the files. She knew something. Nick thought as he moved his eyes off of her to look around the room.

This was something that they hadn’t expected or accounted for since they thought they had dealt with the remaining hydra super soldiers and had gotten the twins. There were no other mentions of past experiments dating back before (or during) Steve or Bucky that they were aware of, yet here she was.

Hydra was good at keeping secrets and it seemed once they exposed their infiltration in government agencies, that all hell broke loose.

“My thing is how was she able to stay under the radar for so long? Surely she would’ve made a mistake along the way.” Tony said. His posture straightened and hand under chin, contemplating how it was possible they’d have another enhanced that was supposedly younger than Steve and Bucky, yet they’re only just discovering her existence.

“And that’s why it’s concerning” Nicks voice was still monotonous but his body language displayed different.

He was tense and confused. The others were as well.

“Seems like you two weren’t the only ones that made it into the 21st century then.” Came from Sam as he kept looking at the woman on the screen. He and everyone else were at a loss for words.

The two soldiers looked at eachother and back at the picture of the woman they once knew.

How? Was the main question running through everyone’s head.

Hey everyone:)))

Hope you’re all doing good.

Love y’all ❤️

-Kai

#black reader #marvel #black!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers #avengers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #out of time

[xxanimecoolgirlxx]

@threateningkahootmusic Prejudice and Fame belongs to them.

Vickie sat at the bar, mindlessly looking at her drink. Another long day at work as a news reporter/ investigative journalist, this time something about a corrupt company. Now normally this wouldn’t be an issue.

Except for the fact that she wished she could legally punch in a couple of individuals teeth without immediately facing assault charges.

Among other things, the company was facing allegations of workplace harassment, discrimination, unequal pay of workers based of sex, and an hostile work environment. And from her experience for working undercover there, it was, indeed, true. In fact, she’d say that the allegations weren’t telling enough! The amount of sexist and racist remarks made at her by staff and management alike would be enough to ensure that no new hires would be daring enough to go there. Even Vickie was surprised at herself for getting this far without snapping at someone. Not that it would’ve made a difference if she did.

All of this evidence through recordings and screenshots would make this seem like an open and shut case, right? Not quite. Even with the damning audio recordings, the camera feed, the multitude of paper documents and such, she knew it wouldn’t be enough for anything to really change. She needed something bigger. She knew that as it stood right now, at the very worse the company would blame a few lowly managers as scapegoats, fire them, and then say that they will do better in the future while knowing good and well that they had no plans on doing anything. Hell, even if they did get any legal repercussions, they could just settle out of court and be done with it. No, Vickie would need something bigger.

Right now she would be doing more research into the company had her work friend not dragged her to this self proclaimed “high end club”. Apparently her friend had been assigned to do an interview to this celebrity, Fame, at least that’s what she hoped his stage name was. She didn’t see a point in drawing needless attention to herself to she opted to stay at the bar and subtly watch from afar. Not like she was dressed to be here anyways, her black knee length form fitting dress was too professional to be in a function like this, her black hair wasn’t styled up to anything fancy and her dark skin wasn’t adorned with any makeup too flashy. It looked like she was at a job interview more than a nightclub. She was more worried about her case than anything else.

“Come on now, I know your defining character quality is being a square, but lighten up a bit, let yourself have some fun.”

Vickie’s eyes wondered over to the ghost that seemingly followed her everywhere, Helena. Seeing that Helena was invincible to everyone but her most of the time, she couldn’t outright face her or talk to her in public without looking odd to say the very least. She raised an eyebrow at the ghost. Like hell she was going to let herself get sloppy drunk and make a complete fool of herself. Maybe that was some other’s tastes to get so blasted that the next morning they don’t know where they were, but it wasn’t Vickie’s taste.

Helena could see the look in Vickie’s eyes

“I know what your thinking. I’m not asking you to behave like an absolute moron. But just chill it. You’re not on the clock right now, you’ll always have time to do this tomorrow. But for the love of god stop worrying yourself.” Helena then crossed her arms

“I promise you if you burn yourself out and pass out from pulling an all nighter again, let me you tell, you will not hear the end of my lectures in the morning.”

Vickie sighed. Although she didn’t say anything, she did make it a point to relax her shoulders and let herself slightly slouch a bit. She finished her drink before ordering a new one when commotion could be heard from the other side of the club behind her. Even with the loud music, Vickie could tell something was going on. Helena looked over and moved closer to see what was going on.

“Oh goddamnit, Prejudice, this is the 5th time this month you’ve crashed the party!” Fame grumbled as Prejudice smirked, snatching a drink out of the hand of Vickie’s coworker.

“Yeah, and I’ll do it again. Besides, I like how you get all p!ssy about it.” Prejudice said as he took a drink from his stolen beverage.

Helena moved back over to Vickie

“Don’t look now, but I think that’s the CEO of that company you’re looking into.” Helena whispered despite knowing she couldn’t be heard by anyone else. Vickie stole a glance to confirm what Helena was saying before looking away just as quickly as to not accidentally get unwanted attention.

“The hell’s he doing here? Shouldn’t he be more worried about saving his company’s face by discrediting the allegations?” She muttered quietly to herself as she took a sip from her Bloody Mary. Helena glanced over

“It looks like him and that other fellow know each other.” Helena said. “I’ll keep watch.” Helena said as she floated over to the crowd. Vickie’s grip on her glass tightened. Maybe this could be the chance she’d been looking for to get solid concrete against the company. Since her coworker, besides from an obvious camera crew, had a recording pen on her, maybe the pen might catch something incriminating, maybe embezzlement, tax fraud, something that really couldn’t be ignored, something that could ruin this business and its corrupt ways.

As she took another swing of her drink, she started noticing the feeling of eyes burning into the back of her head, like someone was staring at her. At first she thought it was Helena, until the ghost floated back over and the feeling didn’t go away.

“Did you catch anything?” Vickie whispered subtly.

“No, but he’s been staring at you. I think? He may be looking at your general area but he’s definitely been looking intensely at the bar area.” Helena said.

Vickie wanted to test that theory. She got up from her chair and walked around, acting as though she was merely stretching. The feeling of being watched didn’t fade no matter where she went. Even well after she sat back down in her chair. Ok, he definitely was staring at her. Did this guy somehow know who she really was, what her goals were? She didn’t think so, she’d done a good job hiding it.

By this point, the amount of people in the club dwindled down a bit, at least in the area she was in. Fame had moved to a different spot of the club and so did a large group of the crowd there. Everyone else around her were either drunk or leaving. Vickie was mid drinking her beverage when she felt someone approaching. Great, just great. She didn’t look over as she just wanted to be left alone. But alas, her luck for the night turned to be Jack sh!t as Prejudice sat down in a chair next to hers at the bar.

Vickie didn’t look over, just remained silent and indifferent as Prejudice pretty much ordered the bartender for some hard liquor. Helena looked like she wanted to intervene but Vickie signaled her not to with some cleverly hidden hand signals the two hand memorized over the course of their friendship/ her being tethered to Vickie. It was quiet for a moment, before Prejudice slammed his shot glass. He glanced over at the bartender.

“I’d suggest you take your fat ginger freak a$$ out of here before you also get a taste of what this little dumb bimbo is going to get.” Prejudice said, in this almost joking way, though she could tell by his voice that He at the same time sounded serious. Either way, it was enough to get the bartender out of there.

Vickie didn’t even have time to get up herself when she felt a hand grab her by the hair and slam her face down onto the counter. She felt her arm being twisted behind her back, the grip getting tighter when she struggled. Helena tried to help, to pull the man off of her but she was swatted away like a fly, which set off all alarms bells in Vickie’s brain. This man clearly wasn’t human.

“Now what do we have here? You know, looking at you, I’d think you’re just another dime a dozen mortal sl/t with less brains than a mutt, it took me a bit to discover what you were actually trying to do.” Prejudice said in casual voice that somehow sounded threatening at the same time. Even then, it was how he said theses things that started grinding Vickie’s gears. He said these things like he was entitled to say them, like it was owed to him.

“You may have fooled my dipsh!t employees, you dumb b!tch, but I’m not exactly as easy to convince. I know you plan on finding whatever evidence you can to ‘ruin’ me or whatever you want to call it. What, you plan on cancelling me? You seem like the type to type essays on Twitter on inequalities or whatever nonsense about equality like anyone will give a damn. At least nobody important will care.” He grinned.

“Oh go f*ck yourself you pompous little sh!t!” Vickie growled. She let out a loud hiss of pain as he twisted her arm more as a result.

“Oh, a little feisty? Good, I’ve been wanting something more entertaining than some obedient little pets. So please, go on. I’m going to break that jaw of yours either way but still, I want to hear more.” Prejudice goated on. She felt his hand slowly leave her hair and travel down to her waist.

“You know, if you really wanted to make yourself useful, doll, than you should stop worrying about whatever job you work in and start worrying about wearing something nice. You dress like a sl/t that acts like they’re someone of any respect. Really you’re not fooling anyone ” Prejudice said, the cockiness in his voice was what sent Vickie off to a boiling peak.

Using the mobility gained by his hand not being holding her head down, she stomped on his foot with her heel, as hard as possible, the man let out a curse but before he could really do much she took a shot glass from the table, spun around and smashed it right in his eye. Sure, this did result in her held arm getting twisted even more and probably dislocated, it gave her the opportunity to get free from his grasp as he stumbled back.

She then took this opportunity to start beating him with pretty much everything and anything in sight, fists, heels, a wine bottle she smashed over his head, chairs, anything in sight. All whilst calling him every name in the book, every swear and curse she could think of, hell, she was pretty sure she set a record. But even all of that didn’t really do much, not when immediately after she was backhanded to the ground when he finally got his footing. She didn’t even have time to recover as he grabbed her by her throat and slammed up against a wall, several times. By the time he stopped her head was spinning and blood was dripping from the back of her head. He then held her up off her feet, hand still firmly on her neck and then he squeezed down, hard.

She desperately scratched at his hand, tried to take gasps of air. But his tight grasp cut off her airways, leaving her attempts useless. Even worse, there didn’t even look like she laid a scratch on him, as any and all injuries or bruises inflicted on him had somehow already healed.

Prejudice’s smirk became wider as he squeezed tighter, his free hand yanking out any remaining glass from his eye.

“God, aren’t you just a fidgety little spazz? Hmm? Did you really think you could fight off a god? Though you’ve been great entertainment so far, it’s been a while since someone’s actually tried to fight me. Good to know not every mortal nowadays are p/ssies.” He spoke.

Vickie could see her world starting to turn dark as Prejudice kept talking

“Let’s just get this part over with. You WILL delete whatever ‘evidence’ you have against my company, and you’ll drop this case. If you don’t, we’ll, I’m sure you don’t have many options here, unless you wanna have a meeting with Death.” He said.

“Then, I want you to meet me in my office as soon as you enter the building. Don’t try quitting now that you won’t be able to do that little expose thing. I can ruin you in so many ways I’m sure your pretty little brain won’t comprehend. It’s alright. You don’t have to think, just do as I say and I won’t have to hurt you.. too much, sweetheart.” That ‘sweetheart’ was said in the most patronizing tone that it would’ve made Vickie said had she not been on the brink of passing out from lack of oxygen.

That was when Prejudice finally dropped Vickie, leaving her on the floor taking greedy gasps for air, her lungs burning from the lack of it. Prejudice just smirked at her once more before checking his watch. He took him longer than he thought. No worries, he didn’t have too much planned for today’s anyways.

Vickie laid there weakly on the floor as Prejudice just walked away, as if he didn’t just do what he just did. Helena by this point finally came too and quickly picked up Vickie, getting her out of the club and into her car.

“Vickie, Vickie. Don’t pass out on me, Vickie just try and stay awake! I’ll get help!” Helena said as she dashed over somewhere as Vickie fought to keep her eyes open before exhaustion finally hit and she felt her eyes close, her body forcing her to rest for the sake of recovery.

#original character #creative writing #tw violence

[fitzherbertssmolder]

Someday

New Dream Appreciation Week Day 4: Hurt/Comfort

It’s funny how it only takes two words to destroy him.

 “I can’t.”

 They’re whispered into the darkness, soft and quiet, but the way they shatter his heart is nothing short of violent. He sits on the edge of the bed, his hands twisting in the sheets in an attempt to hold together whatever pieces of him are left. The night is silent around them and he’s wondering if she can hear the destruction settling inside of him.

 “Can’t what?” he asks, breath held in anticipation of the words he knows are coming.

 “I can’t do this anymore.”

 And with that, he falls apart.

You see, it goes like this.

 For as long as anyone can remember, the Dark Kingdom and Corona have not seen eye to eye. No one is exactly sure how it started, those ancestors long gone, but even as the years pass that fact remains true. Eugene grew up with this notion, was spoon fed rules and lies and was raised to be the Corona loathing prince he was born to be. He watched on as his parent’s broke trade deals and cancelled meetings, fell back as a bystander when his parents lied to the royals themselves and even held his tongue at every obligated visit. For years he’s watched his parents funnel hatred Corona’s way without ever being given a reason why.

 But in all this darkness there was one shining light- Rapunzel.

 As the sunshine princess, she had a reputation within the Kingdoms, stories of warm smiles and an uplifting spirit. But when he met her for the first time, he realised that she exceeded every single one of them. It wasn’t hard for a bond to form between them, the two royal’s outcast by their overbearing parents, finding what little joy that had in each other. Whenever they were together, they were not future heirs or the children of two rivalling Kingdoms, they were just simply Rapunzel and Eugene.

 They spent their years cooped up in libraries between the shelves or dancing in their rooms until night fell or running around the garden seeing who could collect the most daisies to put in Rapunzel’s hair. It was all kept in secret, all done behind closed doors and through hidden letters tucked within royal documents passed between the Kingdoms.

 But then one day that all changed.

 It started with a secret visit on his birthday, Eugene running away and finding himself locked up in the palace with Rapunzel by his side, a picnic laid out under the stars. They were drunk on laughter and freshly made bread and the starlight was twinkling down at them below. It had hit him then just how beautiful Rapunzel was, this little miracle that he got to have in his life, and all he wanted to do was kiss her right under the stars. So, he did. He pulled her close under the watch of the moon and kissed her until his heart shattered into pieces.

 After that their library days turned into kissing between the shelves, their late night dancing more intimate than before, their afternoons in the garden turned into stargazing and kissing lazily under the cloak of darkness. In a matter of weeks, Rapunzel and Eugene had turned in to RapunzelandEugene, two souls becoming one, despite everything around them tearing them apart.

 So that’s how it goes now.

 Two hearts fighting to be one, always a secret, always hidden, always when they’re alone.  

 Always things getting in the way.

 He should have known something was wrong as soon as he arrived in Corona. It was night when he finally made it to the palace, doing his usual climb up to Rapunzel’s balcony, walking through the glass doors already open and waiting for him. Except tonight they weren’t open, they were locked, the room beyond them dark and it took several taps against the glass before Rapunzel was appearing and letting him in.

 He should have known by her tired stare that tonight she wasn’t the Rapunzel he was familiar with. Of course, over the years they’ve had their bad days, the nights spent cuddled up as one of them cried, but he doesn’t think she’s ever been like this. Distant, cold, purposely avoiding him as he makes his way into the room. She had remained quiet as they walked over to the bed, settling down on the sheets as she turned away from him, her back illuminated in the moonlight.

 And then those three words came.

 I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.

 He sits still, his eyes keeping focus on her back, watching as she stutters through every breath. “Do I have a say in this?”

 She shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

 And he doesn’t want to hear it.

 All his life he’s been told what he can and can’t do, who he can be friends with, what he has to say. He’s been controlled for as long as he can remember and he’s tired, tired of being a puppet people can play with. He knew he would have to choose one day, between himself and his Kingdom, but he’s not going to choose this, he refuses to let Rapunzel become just a decision. She’s in his life regardless, she’s not a choice, she’s a necessity.

 He reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder, gripping softly, being an anchor before she floats away.

 “No” he says, keeping his tone gentle, inviting. It may be his turn to fight for her, but he’s entitled to nothing. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept that.”

 She shifts slightly under his grip, turning towards him until he can finally see her face. There’s still little light in the room but he notices the tears as clear as day, some fresh, some already dried and gone. He hates it, hates how she’s hurting and he can’t do anything about it.

 “Eugene” she sobs and he aches, aches to touch her, aches to make it all go away, aches for a world where they could just be.  “Please. We can’t do this. Not when it’s hurting people.”

 “Hurting who?” he asks but he doesn’t really care, as long as she’s smiling, he doesn’t care about anyone else.

 She takes a breath, steadies herself, then presents her hand to him, the moonlight catching on a band of silver.

 His eyes fall closed on a sigh and he lets the reality consume him.

 “I’m getting married.”

 She’s getting married.

 “My parents set the whole thing up.”

 Because of her parents.

 “They found me a prince.”

 And it’s not him.

 Marriage had always been a topic in his future, as a royal it was something that was expected not wanted. It wasn’t a celebration of love, but a business deal given to the best suitor, written between the two Kingdoms that could provide the best conditions. With his own Kingdom’s reputation, he had avoided the subject for a good few years, no one answering to his parents’ bridal request. And with Rapunzel, it’s something he’s made a point to avoid. Deep down he knew their marriage could never be, didn’t want to even think what his parents would do if he went against their wishes like this, but was he a fool if his dreams were filled with Rapunzel as his bride? Was is stupid to imagine a life with a house and a child and Rapunzel by his side for the rest his days?

 Turns out it was.

 Because here he is, his fantasies coming true without him being in them.

 “Who’s the lucky guy?” he asks and he can’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

 “Does it matter?” She is facing him fully now, her head dropped low as her hands search for his, holding on before she drowns. “Do you really want to know?”

 He shrugs and even that takes all his effort. “No.”

 He feels two fingers hook under his chin pulling him up until he’s met with green eyes, sorrow dancing in them. “I love you.”

 “Don’t.”

 “I love you Eugene” she repeats, more determined, honest. “I love you so much that it hurts. I’m breaking and hurting but still my heart is still yours. I know that, you have to know that.”

 He lets out a sob he didn’t know he was holding in, his body falling forwards until he’s wrapped up in her arms, safe and warm but belonging to another. Rapunzel reaches up and begins stroking her fingers through his hair as he cries, lets him release all he’s hidden.

 “Maybe in another life you were mine” she breathes, whispers it against his ear and it makes him shiver. “Maybe we were just normal, just a girl and a boy who fell in love. Maybe we could have made it.”

 Could have. Maybe.

  He hates how she’s talking; hates how she’s already turned her back on them without thinking about their options. But he knows she’s not doing this by choice and nothing he could say would change her mind. But stupidly he tries anyway.

 “What about now?” he asks, the words muttered against her skin. “Why can’t we have that in this life?”

 Using her hand in his hair, she pulls him upright, eyes meeting with his and offers him a dim smile. She strokes a finger down from his eyebrow to his jaw, eyes roaming his face to take it all in. As if it’s the last time she’ll get to do this.

 “My love” she breathes and he is positive he’s never heard anything more beautiful than that. “I would give anything to be with you in this life. For this, us, to be our reality. I would do anything to have that.”

 “You can have that” he interrupts, gripping her wrist tightly. “You can have it all, I would give you anything Rapunzel, anything you asked for.”

 “My parents-“

 “Are just an obstacle. Something we can overcome. We can challenge them or runaway or anything. I would do anything.”  

 “I know” she says, cupping his face in her hands, her smile regretful. “I know you would. But this isn’t something we can fight against, at least not now.”

 He gets it, he does, but that doesn’t mean he hates it any less, hates his parents any less. But there is something hopeful in her words - not now, not yet,someday.  

 “What about someday?” he asks, brushing his nose along hers, savouring every touch he can.

 “Someday” she breaths back, giving him a small kiss between his brows. “Someday Eugene, we’ll have a someday. I promise.”

 He kisses her then, just like he used to, full of love and passion and promises.

 Three words may destroy him but there is one that is slowly stitching the pieces back together.

 Someday.

@our-newdream

#new dream appreciation week #tangled the series #rapunzels tangled adventure #new dream fanfiction #tangled #new dream

[black-streak]

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - The Beginning

 Part 1

So I came up with this partially fleshed out idea on discord and decided to try writing a prequel of sorts to my HCs? Anyways, Mari is like 20ish and Tim is around 25 here. Pre-relationship.

~---~

 Marinette would forever be grateful that she had memorized the layout of the manor back in her first few visits. Otherwise she would have been absolutely lost by now; her sleep addled mind unwilling to give a single thought as to where she was walking. The only thought she could process was a cry for coffee whispering like a mantra through the back of her mind.

Turning a seemingly random corner, she found herself in the side kitchen standing in front of the coffee maker, already holding a fresh pot of the heavenly smelling life elixir. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but whatever, it's 3 am and she's entitled to her theatrics.

Pouring a cup into her favorite mug, having had it appear before her despite not recalling retrieving it, she held it close and made way to the sit-in table, slumping down into the closest seat.

 It took about 10 minutes and half her mug down to realise she wasn't alone in the room. Turning her head slightly, she spotted Tim typing away at his laptop, his own mug just to the right of her arm.

   'When the hell did he get there?' She couldn't remember hearing any footsteps or the coffee pot pouring but then… she also didn't remember turning it on…. 'He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?'

  Turning back towards her own, she finished off the cup and got up to retrieve the pot, moving over to fill both of their mugs before returning it to its holder only to drop back into her seat beside him, leaning closer to see what he was working on.

"Thanks."

   Jumping slightly, she just blinked at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tim glanced at her, inquiry quiet and half incoherent in its murmur.

Humming softly she considered before truthfully admitting, "Rarely can."

"Damian asleep then?"

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"Didn't want to check his room and bother him if he was. Plus, he'd be cranky if I woke him for no reason."

That seemed to catch Tim's attention for whatever reason, because he turned his eyes off the document to look at her fully now.

"You don't sleep in his room?"

"Nah. I tend to cuddle in my sleep and he can't stand being confined like that. Puts him on edge, I think."

  That only prompted an even more perplexed look from him. Unable to process that with so little sleep, she turned back to looking over his shoulder, trying to read what Tim was working on. Giving up, she looked back up to him.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Eh, just some last minute paperwork for a new deal WE is suppose to be negotiating next week."

"... At 3am?"

"You judging me," he asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly in amusement at the hypocrisy.

"You said the deal is for next week."

"It is. But if I get it done now, it's one less thing to stress over at the last second."

"But if you read it on a sleep deprived mind, you're less likely to recall anything you typed up. Meaning you'll have to reread it…. And depending on how dead tired you are, might have to rewrite it. Who knows what sleepy you thinks makes a good deal?"

"Hey! Sleepy me is perfectly capable of working without my brain's input."

Leaning over the counter to rest on her crossed arms, Mari tilted her head slightly to pout up at him.

"Yes but perhaps it'd be best to do so tomorrow and get your brain's input at the same time to save time? Come on, just put on a video or something mindless. I'll keep you company."

  Her logic was sound. There was no argument Tim could give that would actually work in his favor on the matter, but hearing a slight sigh of defeat still gave her an immense sense of victory. Peering over at her, he decided turnaround was fair.

"Alright… but if we're not going to work, you should be trying to sleep. Im cutting you off." He said, pulling her mug out of her reach only to find it empty. Sighing, he moved to set it in the sink only to see her take up his own, carrying it over as well.

"In that case, so should you," she smirked, washing out both mugs and setting them to dry before taking up his laptop, grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the living room.

'How did I not see that coming? That was the obvious outcome… when Was the last time I slept,' Tim wondered, not really paying mind to Mari as she situated them both on the couch, turning the screen to face them both from the coffee table, youtube pulled up and a vine compilation being queued up to play.

…..

  Half an hour later, the two were passing jokes back and forth, sleepy giggles and references whispered into the dark room, laptop forgotten and asleep before them, both too out of it to think of moving back to their rooms. Only to be broken up by a mewling yawn, Mari slumping further down, sleep finally pulling at her.

  It didn't quite hit Tim that something about the situation was slightly off till Marinette curled into him from where he slouched into the corner of the couch, head dropping onto his chest. 

Ah, Fuck. Damian was going to kill him.

Nudging her slightly till she hummed to him, he tried to gently wake her back up fully.

"Mari, shouldn't you go back to your room now?"

It had the opposite effect.

  Mari sprung up, eyes wide, blush flushing up her cheeks, seemingly not having realized she had been cuddling up to him till just then.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I keep forgetting you guys like warning beforehand. Either way I should have asked if you minded though. That was so invasive of me and the last thing I want is to invade your space when it's not warranted or wanted. I promise it won't happen again Tim, I'm so sorry."

Finally stopping to take a deep breath from her rambling, Tim jumped in, panicking to think he was causing her distress.

"No no, Marinette, it's fine! You're a very tactile person and frankly I don't mind it. I just know Damian wouldn't like finding you cuddling up to me, or anyone for that matter, especially in the middle of the night when he thought you were in your room, that's all."

That seemed to stop her in her tracks. Settling back down, she fixed him with a thrown look. 

"I mean… I know Dami can be protective at times, but I don't think he'd be that upset by it. Maybe a touch put off, but I think he'd tease me more than anything?"

Now he was thrown for a loop. This went against everything he knew about his little brother… that could only mean bad things.

"... Really."

"Yeah, as I said, he knows I'm a cuddly person when I'm tired. Plus, your his brother. At least he knows and trusts you. He'd just make fun of me for being so clingy. Sorry again about that by the way."

Narrowing his eyes, Tim couldn't see a hint that she was lying, but still he had to push to be sure. The last thing he needed was Damian to feel like his position was being threatened. That's what sparked their rivalry the first time after all.

"Hmm... I took Damian to be the possessive type. Especially over someone he was seeing. Trust me, Mari, he's not going to like his girlfriend cuddling anyone. Especially not me." 

"Holy Tikki, what?!"

"Tikki?"

" You think… you think Dami and I are dating?!?!"

"Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up!" He rushed out, trying to cover her mouth, only for her to evade, eyes blown wide with shock but still aware enough to dodge his grip.

"No, hold up. You seriously thought we were together?" She spoke in a startled tone, grabbing at his hands to make him stop reaching at her face and concentrate on her words.

Finally giving up on keeping her quiet, Tim actually started processing her words.

"You're… not?"

"No! Of course not! Did he say we were?"

"Well no but… I just assumed. He doesn't like anyone and yet acts like your his personal sunshine."

  Giggling, she shook her head, settling back into the couch at his side.

"Yeah, that's only in front of others. Says no one needs to know what a chaotic being I am. His words not mine."

"Oh. So you guys really aren't..?"

"Nope," she chuckled, popping the p, slowly curling back into his side.

Stopping abruptly, she pulled back a bit and glanced up to him, blush dusting the top of her freckled cheeks. 

"Is.. Is this okay?"

  Now assured that he wouldn't be promptly attacked just for letting Marinette near him, he couldn't see why not. Plus, she obviously took comfort in it and needed sleep. Who knows if she'll find any alone in her room. Wrapping an arm around her and tugging her slowly down, he nodded.

"I already told you I don't mind. Plus, your warm."

Humming her thanks, she burrowed herself under his chin and promptly passed out, Tim following only moments after.

…..

Tim woke up late in the morning, having slid down the cushion and twisted up his limbs with Marinette's who was still half on top of him. By some stroke of luck, they hadn't been disturbed by anyone thus yet. (Dick had already passed through and took a picture to send to the group chat. Who knew the way to make Tim sleep was to pass out on top of him?)  Feeling her shift, he looked down to see bleary blue eyes blinking back at him from under messy bangs. A small smile lit her lips and she moved up giving a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, before slowly getting up.

"Thanks Tim. Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time. We should nap sometime…. Maybe watch a movie first," she suggested, flushing but sending a coy, eager look his way.

Nodding, he could only think one thing.

'Welp. She's going to be the death of me."

#timari #timinette #dc x mlb #maribat

[punkscowardschampions]

Ava & James

Ava: [Picture of this invite]

Ava: That was unexpected?

James: Yes, it is rather

Ava: Did you give her my address?

Ava: Not intending to sound accusatory there, it would be relatively easy for her to find

James: she definitely didn’t get it from me, that would have given us both some warning that she was planning to invite you, which was clearly not her intent

Ava: I didn’t think you would just give it and then no warning, so yeah

Ava: Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that she thought of me though

James: I’m not sure it is nice, but perhaps I’m being paranoid

Ava: It did come as a surprise mostly due to how well our interactions went at Mattie’s party

Ava: She’s your sister, you’d know better than I would either way

James: unfortunately I do, but the RSVP is your decision either way

Ava: Well I don’t want to make things awkward for you by doing what I’m not meant to

Ava: Do you think she expects me to turn up?

James: she’s counting on you feeling obligated to, if only for my sake

Ava: Is there something you’d rather I do?

Ava: Or shall I just think about it, from what I would want to do without factoring in you or her and the rest of your family?

James: in all honesty, I’m equally as tempted to suggest you suffer through it so she has nothing to complain about as I am to trust my judgement that there’s no feasible benefit for you in attending

Ava: Hmm

Ava: I don’t mind going

Ava: There’s no logic in spoiling her own baby shower for my benefit

Ava: I can handle being the odd one out or however awkward it may be if it means not having something to hold against you at a later date

James: I suppose if our suspicions are proved in any way correct you can just leave & you’d have definite allies in awkwardness & feeling left out in both Allegra & Cressida, I have a feeling they won’t handle their invites half as well given neither has any choice but to be there

Ava: I can’t imagine suddenly having a step mum who was only a decade ish older than me

Ava: That must be an adjustment

James: they have my sympathies, Diana won’t have eased the transition as much as she could have

Ava: I’m sure it was strange for her too, at first

Ava: but it’s not as if it’s been a total whirlwind

Ava: I better start looking for appropriate blue attire

Ava: and a gift that’ll pass muster

James: she’s the adult allegedly, who stepped into this new role in their lives willingly, they haven’t had any say in the matter, the least she could do is behave according to said role instead of expecting them to adore & respect her immediately with no effort on her part

James: it’s the beginning of a rant I’m aware it’s too late to have, even if she were a receptive listener

James: but if you would like a shopping partner, I’ll check my calendar under no duress whatsoever

Ava: I agree, and would be happy to listen if it’s a rant you ever want to have in full

Ava: despite me not being the desired/required audience really

Ava: I mean, we’ve all seen the set-up before

Ava: They’ll either drive her mad first or he’ll get a new new model, that’s the cynical approach we’ve been taught to adopt, anyway

Ava: Thanks 🙃 I’ll let you know if anything in my wardrobe is working

James: it’s an approach her husband has been happy to follow through with

James: I’d be much happier, however, to discuss the set-up of the photoshoot that’ll be necessary as you investigate the suitability of your wardrobe as well as my desire to be the intended audience

Ava: I’d be happiest if you could be photographer but I’ll do my best to fulfil that desire solo

Ava: Serious question, are the guests going to be like, mostly your sister’s age, or her husband’s age

Ava: Because that changes everything

James: maybe I could be

James: hers, without question, there are no women her husband’s age allowed in either of their circles, they cease to be socially relevant after 35, my mother aside

Ava: Really? 😗

Ava: Duh, I should’ve known that

Ava: as long as I keep the faux pas between us it’ll be fine

James: I wouldn’t call it a faux pas that your mind doesn’t work in the same manner as theirs

Ava: Maybe the attempt is to show me how out of my depth I am?

James: I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess at what she is trying to attempt here, because as you’ve already said, her baby shower hardly seems the appropriate place to do so & yet

Ava: Sorry, I’m not going to say I’ll go, then worry about it the whole time

Ava: Whatever her potential intentions, I’ve decided mine

Ava: and I’m more interested in potentially seeing you today?

James: as you quite rightly should be

James: [tell her when you are and aren’t free today sir]

Ava: Okay, so I’ll save all my best outfits for [a time] then

James: if you’ve decided your intentions with regards to me & then

Ava: Mini Stepford wife isn’t very sexy

Ava: safe to say my intentions for then are

Ava: and if you don’t know my intentions with you by now, I probably need to pick up a pen or typewriter too

James: I need to pick you up as soon as possible is what I know

Ava: Please do

Ava: I need your discerning eye to help me, obviously

James: of course

Ava: I love you

James: I love you too, so much

James: the second everything with the house is finalised & I don’t have to be in constant contact with the owners I intend to take you somewhere far away from my entire family, I promise

Ava: Where do you want to go?

Ava: If we could go anywhere

James: as long as there are several feet of snow, I’ll be inspired & content

Ava: You are the cutest

Ava: but you picked the right time of year for it

Ava: now I’m not looking for listings I can look at Cabins and Ski Lodges 😍

James: blushing being your thing isn’t the only reason I’d prefer the possibility of shivering but it’s a very important factor nonetheless

Ava: Your cheeks will have the chance to get rosy in plenty of other ways and I won’t be mad at all

Ava: I haven’t been skiing in a long while

James: me either, on both counts

Ava: Not to mention so many of the trips people planned never involved much skiing anyway 🙄

Ava: It’ll be more fun with you

James: I recognise that experience & that I’ll have a much better one with you

Ava: Right answer 😋

James: any other answer would be a lie & not even one which spares your feelings

Ava: I trust you

Ava: [a hilariously inappropriate outfit choice]

Ava: You trust me too, yeah?

James: I’m pleased to hear it, because despite the pen being mightier, I’m not sure it would suffice if you don’t trust me by now

James: your sense of humour does have me wishing I was currently sat at a typewriter though

Ava: There’s no more you need to say, or write, you’ve shown why I can over and over

Ava: We can take one and make it a real retreat

James: right answer

Ava: [Wanna skip to the day of this shitshow baby?]

James: [why not, we know that’s why we’re really here, I like to think he dropped her off even though there’s no need because a nice throwback to when they literally had to spend whatever moments they could together in cars, but obvs that’s before Chlo got there]

Ava: [That’s cute, and you can drop your presents off to this snake sister]

James: [literally your last chance to tell him you invited his ex missus but okay babe don’t bother yet again]

Ava: [seriously, you must’ve thought she weren’t showing by now, think again]

James: [fashionably late but looking a state actually]

Ava: [you’ve had months to slay this lmao, gurl]

James: [who in the hell is this new bloke and what’s his damage tbh]

Ava: [I vibe that for it to last he has to be as crazy as she is, which bodes well for their kids, hence it’ll probably be interesting for Mattie to go find them]

James: [yeah I definitely think that should be one of her storylines]

Ava: [anyway, let me do this]

Ava: Okay

Ava: I don’t want to just do this like this

Ava: but I don’t think a call will make it any better, really

Ava: plus why am I going outside or whatever, right

Ava: but Chloe just walked in

Ava: not a poor attempt at humour, or some kind of early sign of a fever, she really did

James: Oh

James: you did the right thing, I’d rather that Jay didn’t overhear even one side of that hypothetical phone call

Ava: Exactly, I know you’re all out right now, I would never want to do that

Ava: I don’t want to, at all

Ava: If telling you after, once I left, seemed like a good idea, I would have gone for that

Ava: but the fact you didn’t know to tell me, that you didn’t know, full stop

Ava: It felt unfair for me to also keep up the secrecy, not something I wanted a part in

Ava: Your sister seems… Surprised. But not, ‘it’s been half a year and you’ve shown up totally unannounced’, surprised

Ava: Your mum couldn’t contain her actual shock though, that I am sure of, from the brief look she gave Diana alone

James: I'm sorry, Ava

James: are you leaving now?

Ava: Do you need me to?

Ava: I could come find you, if you want

James: I need her to, but it’s unlikely I’ll get my own way

Ava: She’s

Ava: I can’t believe she’s done this

Ava: Doing this

James: I can believe she’d show up, but not that my own sister would invite her to do so

Ava: I don’t understand, either

Ava: I’d love to ask

Ava: among other questions for Chloe

Ava: but I won’t

James: you’d be perfectly entitled to, under the circumstances

Ava: I’m not letting her suggest I’m speaking for you

James: I know, you’re the one reliable certainty in all this

Ava: It’s clear she already came here to lie

Ava: even she couldn’t show up and admit she’s made 0 attempts to contact the girls, or even ask about them

James: my mother must be holding her tongue valiantly to avoid pointing any of those discrepancies out

Ava: She shouldn’t

Ava: and I won’t if she plans to do it within earshot

Ava: there’s not confronting her and then there’s letting her spread a false narrative unchecked and unopposed

Ava: defence isn’t attack, whatever she claims

James: my family’s love of a false narrative has been well documented within the earshot of the entire postcode, any necessary private confrontation will, of course, be left down to me, like it or not

Ava: She knows this isn’t true though

Ava: Diana bloody knows

James: yes, but she concerns herself with honesty even less than Diana does, or anyone else I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting

Ava: I’m so sorry, that she’s doing this

James: it’s not your apology, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that my sister invited you there to witness everything my ex wife is going to do

Ava: Try to do

Ava: She isn’t going to get away with it, I swear

James: you don't have to promise me anything

Ava: The truth always comes out

Ava: and you have the call and text history to prove it if anyone actually believed her

Ava: She’s just bringing entertainment, and that’s all people who have no real stake in any of this care about, and they’ll be bored and onto the next before she achieves anything

Ava: If you were even half as bad as she says, why would a decent mother leave her kids with you?

Ava: They wouldn’t and she isn’t, even her fake story has her in a bad light

Ava: Just not as bad as what she really did and what really happened to you and the girls, now and for all the years before

James: whether or not the actual truth comes out or if her particular brand of it remains what's taken as truth, you & I both know what really happened

James: my priority right now is protecting the girls from what she has already done & whatever else she is intending to do for the duration of her return, however long that will be

Ava: And they are all that matters

Ava: I can totally respect that is how it is for you

Ava: And I can see how they are the top priority, regardless of any other factors

Ava: but I do care about how this is affecting you, or could, will

Ava: you know that

James: of course I do & I care just as much about how it could or would impact you, despite knowing full well you can handle any of those effects

Ava: I’m angrier than I could ever be capable of being upset right now, there’s no room for it in my head yet

Ava: but that’s definitely a good thing because if I do start thinking about the potential hurt she could do to the girls with this, I will have to leave or

Ava: just no

Ava: She hasn’t mentioned them once

Ava: not even as a point score

James: whenever you're ready to leave, we'll all be delighted to see you

Ava: Thank you

James: it doesn't feel selfless enough to deserve thanks, particularly when I think about having to engage her in conversation once the champagne has worn off

Ava: You don’t have to come here and pick me up

Ava: and you don’t have to talk to her today

Ava: it’s not as if she has bothered to tell you she’s here

James: no, unless she’s altered her drinking habits whilst being at the villa I won’t be talking to her today, but I’ll pick you up if you want

Ava: Oh she’s certainly celebrating like it’s her baby shower

Ava: I can make my way back to the flat, it’s not too far, I’m fine, promise

James: the only way this could be worse is if that was an announcement she came back to reveal

James: I’m sure you can, nevertheless this has been a horrific surprise & I don’t like to think of you making your own way anywhere to then sit alone with every daunting ‘what if’ & ‘why’ to process when you don’t have to

Ava: Not quite

Ava: I don’t know if it’ll even be pertinent

Ava: but she has ‘subtly’ dropped plenty of loud hints about a new man

Ava: and you’re right, I’m just trying not to be another problem or worry for you to have to think about, but being stubborn about this would do just that

Ava: Whenever you’re ready to come get me, do, I’ll be ready

James: okay, if I drop enough loud hints of my own that we’re on our way to rescue you, Jay is bound to hurry up

Ava: How has your outing been, up until this point?

James: we have had a lovely time with no apparent foreshadowing, which I suppose is appropriate because when I commit this to paper in an effort to understand it, our readers will also be left feeling equally cheated to discover no written warning forthcoming, & there will be some ease in the act, at least, in not to having to think up & in turn add a satisfactory plot device where the source material had none

Ava: Her lack of interest in making the story make sense is in character, if nothing else

Ava: Frustrating and angering and

Ava: Well

Ava: Contempt for the truth at least shows she knows, on some level, that she’s in the wrong, right?

James: hopefully, yes, but as you said, there's a definite losing battle in trying to make sense of her motivations at the best of times & we're far from there at the moment

Ava: I know

Ava: It’s worrying

Ava: Her parents can’t like… make her get some help?

Ava: I know that never works but it might

James: even more worryingly, they can't make her do anything

Ava: Hmm

Ava: I can sense that

James: it wouldn't surprise me if she hasn't told them she's back either

Ava: Jesus

Ava: Whatever hotel she’s booked whilst she’s here will be on them though

James: along with her flights, cars & everything else

James: maybe I should call them in case they don't learn of her whereabouts until she posts baby shower photos

Ava: It would be decent of you, though it shouldn’t be your call to be decent on her behalf

Ava: wouldn’t blame you if you didn't

James: performing tasks or behaving a certain way on her behalf did become second nature to me

Ava: That’s only logical

Ava: When there was so much she wouldn’t do herself, that she should or needed to be done

Ava: You had to step up for two

James: but now there is no longer a need to project the false united front & it's a habit I have to break

Ava: In this case, it isn’t a bad thing you care about their feelings

Ava: bizarre that you do more than her, but still, bizarre by how little she does

Ava: Do what YOU think is right

Ava: Don’t consider her at all, in the things that is a possibility

James: you're right, I will

James: thank you

Ava: This is not ideal, we both know that

Ava: but she hasn’t mentioned any permanent plans to stay or anything like that

Ava: but whatever she does, this will be okay, we’ll work it out, you will

James: I appreciate your belief in my ability to handle this, I hope you know that as well

Ava: I do

Ava: on both counts

James: then yes, it’ll be okay

James: I promise we are on our way to collect you, just bear with me while I call her parents

Ava: Take as long as you need

Ava: Initial shock over… as much as it can be

Ava: I don’t need Chloe thinking I can’t handle her

James: [please do phone them in case they don't know and see those posts then come back]

James: you don't need to worry about what she thinks

Ava: [can you bloody imagine lmao]

Ava: Not about me, never

James: on any subject

Ava: Diana’s step daughters have behaved more maturely

James: I'd feel confident in predicting Jay also has, over the course of the day

Ava: and she only had like, three tantrums, right? 😏

James: I couldn't possibly give you the tally, lest you tell Frank & provoke an even worse reaction

Ava: 🤫🤐

Ava: He’ll never know

Ava: he’s definitely had the best day of us all 😴🥩🥎😴

James: I'm happy to hear his criteria has been met, but I'll be ecstatic if I can do the same for yours

Ava: My criteria is slightly different but I’d take 😴🥩🥎😴 at a push

James: I'd rather you decided to elaborate than compromise

Ava: I only need the one emoji

James: oh really?

Ava: Mhmm

Ava: I won’t ask you to guess

James: are you sure? It wouldn't be much of a hypothetical perfect day if you couldn't ask whatever you like of me

Ava: I don’t need hypothetical or real perfect

James: you don't have to need something for me to want to offer it to you

Ava: All I need from you, is you

James: wouldn't you like to forget about all this?

Ava: Is that possible?

James: I'll be finding out as you do

Ava: Okay

James: so where is this fool's errand taking us?

Ava: Well 🤔 what helps people forget that isn’t champagne

Ava: 🌳🎞📚🖼💚 as your day out was cut somewhat short

James: okay, I'll of course start us off with 📚

James: I suggest we let the girls pick 🌳 or 🖼 because of their awful taste in 🎞 but I'll let you make your own decision before I mention any of this to either of them

Ava: Harsh 😅

Ava: but I’ve sat through enough films that aren’t Twilight to know you’re not lying

Ava: I’ve missed you today, all of you

James: we've missed you too, especially me, even though you've ruined me for any & all films but Twilight

Ava: At least you also have the perfect soundtrack for the 💔

James: it'll work just as well for the traffic we end up stuck in

Ava: Where would we be without the traffic, help or hindrance

James: personally, I’ve recently had more positive associations with it & where I would be without those is inconceivable to me

Ava: I feel the same

James: I’ve really missed you today

Ava: I wouldn’t wish this particular event on you, especially with the unexpected bonus of Chloe

Ava: but it’s better doing things with you, the stuff we don’t want to particularly do included, even if they’re not as nice as the good things

James: I would’ve come with you, in spite of her arrival & because of, had I been allowed

James: she isn’t someone you should have to deal with on your own, not when we made the choices that contributed to her disappearance together

Ava: She’s got enough blame for the both of us, definitely

Ava: but I can’t see anyone seriously buying it…

Ava: anyway, we know how it was

James: yes we do & you’ve never doubted what I’ve said the truth was, anyone who takes her word instead is the least of my worries, because they clearly have their own

Ava: Exactly

Ava: and maybe I could take the homewrecker bit more seriously if she was making any effort to fight for any of you

Ava: not that you’re even asking her to fight to see the girls 🙄

James: precisely

James: tomorrow I’ll be the one fighting against her clear reluctance to spend time with them & then again to ensure Jay doesn’t overhear that she’s back when that plan inevitably fails

Ava: Of course

Ava: There’s no need to do that

Ava: it’s bad enough without the anxiety of waiting, not to mention the potential disappointment

Ava: If she comes, she comes

Ava: When Jay is a bit older, it might be better for Chloe to have to arrange it with her herself, but not yet

James: from experience it would be better if she refuses to come, I couldn’t get her to feign even the slightest interest when they were both living in the same house, occupying the same rooms, she’s unlikely to if she has to put herself out to meet us

James: & it was one thing to tell Jay when we move into the new house mummy isn’t living with us, it’s quite another to try & explain she doesn’t want to visit her anywhere at any time, or worse still, to have her agree to do that & behave worse than the children themselves

Ava: It’s so bloody difficult

Ava: because that is true, or does seem to be true, from all the available past experience you shared and behaviour she’s exhibited then and since

Ava: but it’s unfair to leave the onus on you to ever have to have that conversation with Jay, and Mattie, when you can

Ava: it shouldn’t be one you should ever have to have

Ava: but the reality is, it might be, parents leave, and the parent who stays has to do the lion’s share and then some, dealing with whatever the deserter has left in their wake…

Ava: we’re just programmed to be far more shocked and appalled when that parent is the mother, not the father

Ava: but it is shocking, and can in some cases be appalling, regardless of role and gender, I’ve seen it within my own family

Ava: but in others, I’ve seen it is ultimately for the best, and to have that parent around would make life worse, if they had chosen to be involved

James: you said yourself she hasn’t expressed any desire to stay & her parents weren’t prepared for the eventuality when I spoke to them, our instinct that this is a short visit is the one I trust in right now & the one I’m readying myself & the girls for

James: whether or not she engages with them tomorrow, the reality is, her parenting has only ever been performative & taking a picture of or with them in response to comments she receives under the ones from today isn’t going to trick Jay into thinking they’ve spent quality time together the way it did when she was younger, she may already have questions I’m struggling to find appropriate answers for, but I know expecting her mother to supply them would be disastrous & I can do better than that

James: what has happened so far has been for the best, I don’t know what possessed my sister to send that invitation & jeopardize things

Ava: I hope she intends to explain, as well as apologize

Ava: Whatever she was thinking, it’s safe to say it’s backfired, unless her intention was to cause potential harm to her own niece

Ava: which you have to hope was not

Ava: All you can do is all you can do

Ava: Chloe is going to do, or not do, whatever she wants, that’s apparent

Ava: Jay’s fast approaching an age where she won’t engage with that performativeness and I don’t think anyone will blame her if she decides not to

Ava: Then Chloe will have to decide if she is actually going to try or not

James: I love you for being the type of person to sincerely write out & send that message when it’s unfortunately as apparent we can’t really hold out any such hope for Diana’s character, regardless of what’s happened, she’ll be steadfast in her conviction her intentions were good & she was right

James: all I can do is expect less than nothing from either of them, at this point

Ava: If it wasn’t her baby shower, your mum might have beat me to confronting her on it

James: perhaps there’s some hope for my mother yet

Ava: Perhaps

Ava: or she was just livid to be caught out of the loop, who’s to say really

James: realistically yes, I think we can say it’s the latter

Ava: They’re not invited on our redux day out regardless so

James: speaking of, we’re finally here

Ava: Yay 🙌🙌 I’ll make my excuses and be right out

James: take as much time as you need, I know what my family & sister’s friends are like

Ava: I’d love to see them pretend they’re dying for me to stay, honestly

James: as long as you’re expecting a performance on a par with the lowest-rated children’s film in place of one from the Twilight saga

Ava: 😏 you’ll make me laugh, which might help my own performance

James: oh good, I’d love nothing more than to grant you the fastest possible exit

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 60 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 60 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

“Oi’ve nae talked wit’ ‘im about t’ose times.  Master Selked told m’ some, an’ the log provided t’e rest.  Oi ‘ad little t’ do for over a Wotan as Oi wa’ recuperating.  Oi had t’ practice readin’ yer writin’, so Oi read t’e log an’ ot’er books t’at ‘e’d collected.”

Kurin plied her chopsticks in silence for a bit, digesting this history behind things that had always been an unquestioned part of her life. Skye cocked her head and looked at Kurin’s platter questioningly. Kurin held out some roast on her chopsticks and Skye took it neatly.

Kurin looked across the table at Tanlin.  “Barad collects books?” she asked incredulously.

“Aye, ‘e reads bot’ Common an’ Arrakan an’ can struggle t’rough Barant.  ‘E ‘as books in all t’ree languages.  Nine o’ t’em are about t’e Boren Current Wars.”  She paused thoughtfully, “Actually, ten, i’ ye count Sula’s little manual.”

Kurin interrupted in surprise, “Sula wrote a book?  She never said anything about it.  Come to think, Darkistry mentioned it, too.”

Seriously, Tanlin replied, “Oi know wye Sula stayed quiet about ‘t.  Oi’ve read ‘t.  Darkistry’s probably t’e only one o’ us ‘oo actually understands it.  Oi’d recommend t’at ye nae read ‘t, t’ough Oi willnae stop ye.”  She paused and looked sympathetically at Kurin.  “T’will show ye a side o’ Sula t’at ye willnae care for.  Sula’s killed more people an’ sunk more ships t’an any ot’er person on Sea.  ‘Er book’s a manual for t’e destruction o’ ships an’ fleets.

“Wit’out t’e knowledge in t’at book, we’d probably ‘ave sunk t’e Fauline.  Wen Barad an’ Oi were in danger, t’e crew attacked wit’out ‘esitation.  None o’ t’em wa’ ‘appy about ‘t but t’ey did ‘t anyway.”

Kurin realized that what she was hearing was not a boast.  She already knew about her friend Sula’s war record — and how Sula felt about it. She digested the knowledge in silence.

The quiet stretched out into tension.  At the last, Tanlin asked, “Wen’re ye goin’ t’ actually start reading?  So far, ye’ve just leafed t’rough about eight Wohan’s wort’ o’ Log.”

Relieved to have something neutral to talk about, Kurin replied, “I have been reading, a bit slower than usual, actually.  I didn’t want to miss anything.  Barad has a fairly neat hand that’s usually easy to read.  

“How come he gets so little from each indenture sale?  Less than half, on average.”

Tanlin smiled in relief.  “Oi’m glad t’at ye asked t’e quest’n in t’at way.  A person ‘oo brokers indenture sales is entitled t’ nae more t’an ‘is legally defined costs plus ten percent o’ t’e balance o’ t’e sale.

“Indenture’s ‘ow t’e Arrakan fleet’s education system works.  I’ Oi wonted t’ learn, say, boat buildin’, Oi’d sell ye m’ indenture. Basically, ye’d pay m’ in advance for t’e term o’ t’e indenture.  Oi’d work for ye an’ ye’d teach m’ t’ make boats.  Tis a twa way contract.  T’e more I know goin’ in, t’e more m’ indenture’s wort’ t’ ye.  Oi might sell m’ indenture at auction or Oi might approach a particular person or ship.”

“T’e Grandalor produced indentures ‘oo could all read, write an’ figure plus ‘avin’ a good foundation in a useful skill.  T’e Arrakan fleet ships bid ‘igh prices for Grandalor indentures because t’ey were o’ t’e ‘ighest quality,” Tanlin finished proudly.

“So. . .the indenture is just a prepaid labor and education contract?” Kurin asked dubiously.

“Aye. Oi sold m’ ane indenture six times t’ earn m’ navigation an’ command skills.  Oi earned enow from t’ose sales t’ buy a share in t’e Princamorn, t’e ship t’at Oi wa’ born on.  Oi wa’ in a position t’ bid for a ca’taincy wen ane came open.  I remember evert’in’ o’ t’e Arrakan fleet but t’e people.

“M’ diary wa’ among documents t’at were salvaged from t’e wreck. Barad saved ‘t for m’ an’ Oi’ve read ‘t over an’ over but ‘t only told m’ some names.  T’ey’re only words in a book. M’ people’re still missing.”  Tanlin looked a little downcast as she added, “Mecat says t’at t’ey’re gone forever.”

Kurin finished eating and went back to reading the log.  Skye left the cabin the same way that she had come, pausing to close the port behind her.  Before the sun had reached its nadir, Kurin had nearly finished the just over twenty-five Gatherings of Barad’s Captaincy. Using a candle lantern to add to the ghostly light of the low sun, she finished the log and began the Purser’s accounts.

What Kurin learned there amazed her.  The Grandalor was a wealthy ship.  A very wealthy ship indeed.  Most of her wealth was held in accounts in the Arrakan fleet with large amounts on deposit in the Pallant and Daroff fleets.  Less than a third of her wealth was aboard or on deposit with the Naral fleet.

Kurin fell asleep to the quiet, uncanny whistling song of a faraway Orca that had never stopped singing, all day.

Kurin awoke suddenly in the middle of the third Night Watch.  The low arctic sun was coming fairly brightly through the port.  She had fallen asleep while reading and was surrounded by an untidy nest of log books, accounts, a few diaries and other records.

It took a moment to pin down what had awakened her.  The Orca song had become loud and clear.  It was punctuated by the shushing splash of the whale breaching and rolling and the occasional splashing report of the multi-ton creature leaping and falling back to the sea. Kurin’s heart leaped in fear for those in the sickbay.

Kurin could see the quiet form of Captain Tanlin sleeping slumped in a stuffed chair.  She felt a slight twinge of guilt at having fallen asleep in the Captain’s bunk as she slid silently out of bed.  She stumbled over the sleeping form of Arnat, curled up on the floor beside the bunk.  The commotion brought Tanlin to instant alertness. Arnat stretched.

“What’s the matter, Kurin?” he yawned.

“I hope, nothing.  Perhaps much.  The Orca is singing close by.”

“Mother!” Arnat called, heading immediately for the cabin door.

Tanlin was through it before he could get there.  Kurin followed him through the passageways of the Grandalor to the sickbay as swiftly as she could.

Doctor Corin looked up from where he was working on Lenai.  “I was about to send for you, Captain, and Arnat, too.  We are losing her.  I have killed her pain with Hag venom, so that she can talk.  She is weak but lucid.

“I thought that she should have those that she cared about near to her at the end.”

“Well t’ought o’, Doctor Corin,” Tanlin responded and turned to the doctor’s aide.  “Mikka, go get Barad, quickly.  ‘E should be ‘ere, too.”

The soft, concerned voice of Lenai came clearly to them all, “Did we do it?  Did Kurin come with us?”

Kurin stepped to the bedside, where Lenai could see her.  “I came, Lenai. I am here because of you.”

A hand reached out from under the covers and grasped Kurin’s arm weakly.  “Then it wasn’t a waste.  When the big red haired man stabbed me I feared that my life was lost to no use.  Save Arnat. See that he’s got a ship to call home, please?”

“I think that this ship will stay his home.  I’ve been looking at your case and have agreed to be your advocate before the fleet.”

Lenai smiled.  “I just wish that Arnat was here.  I want to hold him one more time before I go to Iren’s halls.”

“He is here.  Arnat, come over where you mother can see you.”

Arnat came, dry eyed but shaking, to his mother’s bedside.  She reached out and took hold of his arm with one hand and wrapped the other about him.  “Arnat, never fear the Orca’s song.  I can hear it calling me to Iren’s halls.  I won’t hurt there, and I will always love you.”

She relaxed, letting out a long breath.  Her arms fell from him and hung limp.

Barad, who had come in only moments before, knelt at her bedside and crossed her arms over her chest.  Tanlin joined him.

Barad said softly, “While there is a Grandalor, Arnat will have a ship that is his home.  I have no children of my body but I will have Arnat as my own.  He was one of the first to swear to us and the oath that we gave binds us.  We have all chosen one name and to be of one blood.”

Tanlin said, “T’ere’re nae orphans in a Wide Wing rookery because all take care o’ t’e young toget’er.  So we’ll care for Arnat. T’ere’ll be nae orphans on t’e Grandalor.  Oi’ll  log t’e order.”

Outside, the whale still sang but even to the untrained human ear, they could hear that it was a different song.  A second voice and a third joined in.  In moments whales were leaping and singing all about the ship.

In a corner of the sickbay, sitting on a bunk, Kurin was weeping. Another one dead.  Another part of her life shattered.  

The simple pride that she’d always had, that held her together when loneliness or fear of loss rose up, was in ruins in her heart. Longin born.  So simple.  So strong.  So ruined by the events of the last few days.  

Kurin wept for the young mother she’d tried to save.  Dead for the crime of wanting to talk to her.  Killed by the Longin.  Kurin’s ship. Her home.  A part of herself.  Through tears Kurin saw Arnat being rocked in Tanlin’s arms and wished desperately that she was him. Safe.  Held.  Loved.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 60 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x11 - Jukebox Feels (part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to - 2018 prison world, the Salvatore mansion. Katherine walks through the front door, dazed and confused. She must be having a nightmare, she thinks to herself; this can’t be happening, she can’t possibly be where she thinks she is. Although her intuition tells her the contrary, she gives it a shot, on the slim chance it might not be true…

KATHERINE: Hello? Anyone there? (She searches the house; as expected, it’s empty. She tries different techniques to escape the situation. Pinches herself to wake up, nothing. Taps her feet together, and with her eyes closed whispers: There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home… doesn’t work either). Maybe if I go to sleep, I’ll wake up and everything will be back to normal… Yes, I need to sleep (she goes into Stefan’s room, puts on one of his pajamas and lies in his bed. Not even a minute in, and she’s off dreaming of sheep.

Cut to – Akumal, Mexico. After a beautiful moonlight dinner, Damon and Bonnie sit on the beach, admiring the full moon’s glow, and some real good tequila.

 DAMON: (Randomly) Truth or dare…

BONNIE: (Laughs) Are you serious?

DAMON: I’m dead serious, come on, scaredy-cat!

BONNIE: Please! I just don’t want to humiliate you, cry-baby!

DAMON: Oh, it’s on! Brace yourself for defeat!

BONNIE: Bring it!

DAMON: One rule, no magic or psychy stuff!

BONNIE: Fine, no vamp tricks.

DAMON: Deal. Truth or dare?

BONNIE: Dare.

DAMON: I’ll start easy, (smirks) don’t want you loosing so fast. I dare you to take a shot of tequila while doing a handstand.

BONNIE: Piece of cake! (Delivers to perfection) My turn, truth or dare?

DAMON: Truth.

BONNIE: Okay, let’s settle this once and for all; do you steal from the bank when we play monopoly?

DAMON: (Grins) Not every time…

BONNIE: (Whacks him with her elbow) I knew it!

DAMON: What can I say, Bon, too much temptation. Okay, truth or dare?

BONNIE: Dare.

DAMON: I’m sensing a pattern here, but suit yourself. I dare you to go up to one of the people at the bar and tell them, in a very low and creepy voice, I see dead people…

BONNIE: I’m gonna get you back for this one! (Although hesitant, she delivers; freaking the hell out of the poor soul unfortunate to be approached by her. They go back to their spot) Okay, Mr. smarty pants. My turn, truth or dare… and you better choose dare!

DAMON: Dare… I say truth!

BONNIE: I’ll break you, eventually. What is the most embarrassing thing in your room?

DAMON: Oh, you’re going there! You already know the answer…

BONNIE: I do, but I want to hear you say it.

DAMON: Fine, my unicorn onesies.

BONNIE: With a butt crack… can’t forget the butt crack (she laughs)!

DAMON: They’re cozy! Okay, missy, shit just got real! Truth or dare…

BONNIE: I’m going with truth; just cause I know you’ll make me do some crazy shit after that one.  

DAMON: (With a wicked grin, rubbing his hands) Excellent…  What is your guilty pleasure?

BONNIE: Oh, come on! You know that…

DAMON: I do, but I also want to hear you say it, so, go on…

BONNIE: Fine… occasionally I like to dress up like Whitney Houston in the Queen of the Night video from the Bodyguard, and perform in front of the mirror…

DAMON: Occasionally? More like every other Sunday... and it’s HOT AF!  

BONNIE: Can’t believe you caught me doing that!

DAMON: One of my fondest prison world memories! I have to hand it to you, Bon, you really got creative with the costume.

BONNIE: I’ve perfected it since then… Well, there, I said it! Happy now?

DAMON: Never been happier… (leans in to kiss her) and you are, beyond a doubt, the queen of the night…

BONNIE: Don’t think for a second that’s gonna get you out of what’s coming…Truth or dare?

DAMON: I’m a mix it up and go with dare.

BONNIE: (With a wicked grin, rubbing her hands) Been waiting for that since we started.

DAMON: I’m instantly regretting my decision.

BONNIE: (Laughs) Oh, and you should! You’re in trouble now… Mr. Damon Salvatore, your mission, which you have no choice but to accept, is to (she opens a portal to their room, goes and comes back).

DAMON: Hey, we said no tricks!

BONNIE: You said no magic, no psychic stuff, but you never mentioned teleporting, so suck it! Here (hands him one of her outfits and her make-up kit) Put this on, make-up and all. Once you are ready, and looking gorge, you are going to perform Queen of the Night to the guests at the beach bar. Good luck, doll! (Laughs hysterically).

DAMON: Oh, Bon-Bon… when you least expected, I’ll get you back.

BONNIE: (Mocking) I’m sure you will; but for now, come on, dancing queen, your audience awaits. (Damon performs, surprisingly well, or at least good enough to receive and applause from his audience, who, although very confused, found the show quite entertaining. They go back to their spot). You did great, almost nailed the choreography.

DAMON: Well, I learned from the best.

BONNIE: I think it’s safe to say I won this little game.

DAMON: This time around… 

BONNIE: How bout you get out of those clothes, I get out of mine, and we go for a night swim?

DAMON: Don’t have to ask me twice! (As he is taking the high heels off) How do you guys walk in these things??

BONNIE: You get used to it, (teasing) just don’t get too used to it... Ready, my night queen?

DAMON: (Carries her) Let’s go, witchy! (They swim under the moonlight; then make love till sunrise).

Cut to - The secret facility, Edward’s cell. He has been sleeping for quite some time. He slowly begins to wake; as he opens his eyes, he sees someone lying on the floor under a pool of blood, right next to his bed. He jumps up in a scare.

 AUGUSTUS: Oh, don’t be alarmed, son, it’s not me, I’m doing just fine. Meet your uncle Pete; granted it might not be the best introduction, but hey, you wanted to meet your family… well, there you go.

EDWARD: (Disgusted and in shock) What is this!!??  

AUGUSTUS: It’s a dead body, son. And, from what I hear they start to smell pretty bad once they decompose; so, I suggest you move fast and bring your cousin Matty back. Feel free to use our tech if it helps, Eddie here (points to the strange man that has been standing outside his cell everyday) is more than happy to help.

EDWARD: (Crying in despair, looking at the corpse) Oh god, oh, god!!! (To his father) You are fucking insane!!!

AUGUSTUS: Language, boy! I taught you better manners than that… guess I should have never left you in Tamara’s care; what a waste of an ivy-league education. My fault for bringing in the trash. Oh, well… time is ticking, and that body is stinking… Ha, that rhymed, maybe I should pick up poetry? I always did love Literature… Anyway, (belittling) Mayor Powell, let’s see just how smart and powerful you really are. Rest assured, if you get the job done, I promise I will make it worth your while (he leaves; Edward can’t stop crying, imagining Matt’s pain).

Cut to - Munich, Germany. Sam, Elena, Sage, and Alex, are having some drinks, after their first days of the program.

SAGE: I knew this program was going to be out of the ordinary, but it’s totally blowing my mind!  

ELENA: I agree, it’s amazing! The equipment we have access to is unbelievable! Never knew those types of tools and tech even existed.

SAM: (Putting his drink up for a cheer) Here’s to an unorthodox quality education, and to new awakenings!

ALL: Cheers! (They drink, share some laughs and anecdotes; at some point, the boys get into their own conversation in another area of the bar. Elena and Sage have no option but to interact more closely).

ELENA: Listen, I’m sorry for calling you a bitch.

SAGE: I’m sorry for being one. (Holds her hand out for a handshake) Do-over?

ELENA: Do-over (shakes her hand). So, tell me, why are you so obsessed with Pietro? Not judging, just curious.

SAGE: I know a lot of people think he is just an entitled jerk, but he is so far from that. I mean, yes, he is arrogant and pretentious, but when you’ve accomplished what he has, you kind of earn the right to be.

ELENA: Still don’t get it, what has he accomplished? He’s not even a Doctor…

SAGE: He owns the world’s most groundbreaking technology companies. Ai, IoT, nanotech, you name it, he is behind it. He might not be the science side of the operation, but he is the business side that makes it possible. Just between us, I’m pretty sure he is a vampire. Get this, while I was doing research on his background, I stumbled upon some pretty crazy documentation that dates his birth back to 1865. It’s either that, or he stole some real old dead guy’s identity.

ELENA: That is definitely not a coincidence… Do the names Stefan and Damon Salvatore ring a bell?

SAGE: Never heard of them, who are they?

ELENA: Besides my ex-boyfriends, I think they might be Pietro’s half-brothers.

SAGE: (Laughs) That’s impossible…

ELENA: Put two and two together…

SAGE: Oh, they’re also…? OMG! So, you slept with two vampires, and they were brothers??!! I totally miss read you, you’re a badass!! I love it!! (Holds her drink up) Cheers for that!

ELENA: Well, the brothers thing is something I’m really not proud of. I was young and gave in to my darkest desires; but I guess karma got me served, because they both fell in love with my best friends; so…

SAGE: Hey, nothing to be ashamed of; more power to you! I mean, it’s okay when men do it, but as woman we get shamed for it… Fuck that shit!

ELENA: Good point... (holds her glass up for a cheer) Here’s to woman equality!

SAGE: Fuck yeah! So, tell me, how did you end up getting involved with vampires?

ELENA: It’s a long and complicated story… Let’s just say I look exactly like someone they were once very obsessed with, and it grew from there.

SAGE: Who did you go out with first?

ELENA: Stefan… my first true love; but then I fell for the bad boy, who just happened to be his brother. Like I said, not proud, but that’s how it went down.

SAGE: Was it serious?

ELENA: Very. With Stefan I could see my entire future; it was like a fairytale love. With Damon, I lived for the moment and was consumed with passion.  

SAGE: Sounds like you were quite in a predicament.

ELENA: I was, for a while; but I ended up choosing Damon.

SAGE: So, what happened? Why did you two split?

ELENA: There were many reasons, but every time I go back to it, I think it’s because we got off to a wrong start. When I became a vampire, I was sired to him… not the best way to start a relationship.

SAGE: Wait, you are a vampire!!? Are you kidding me?!! This story keeps getting better and better!

ELENA: No, no! I’m not one anymore, but I was.

SAGE: Oh, okay, you freaked me out there for a sec! Anyway, then, what happened? Spill!!

ELENA: Well, a whole bunch of crazy stuff... then I took a cure, became human again, only to be put into a three-year sleeping spell, then I woke up. At first it was bliss, but then, once we moved in together our deeper problems began to surface…

SAGE: Did those problems have to do with him falling for one of your best friends?

ELENA: Not expressively… but in part, yes. I knew he was in love with her, and that there was nothing I could do to change that.

SAGE: Ouch, that’s gotta hurt.

ELENA: I mean, he never cheated or anything like that, they didn’t even get together until recently, but just knowing he would never love me like her, hurt for a while… then I met Sam…

SAGE: Wow, that’s quite a story!

ELENA: Straight out of a supernatural YA book, am I right?

SAGE: I’m a big fan of YA drama, and supernatural lure, so, right up my alley! Okay, let me ask you one last question. If you could go back, would you make the same choice?

ELENA: What do you mean?

SAGE: Stefan or Damon? Who would you choose?

ELENA: (Laughs) Uhm, okay, that’s a weird question…

SAGE: Oh, come on, just for fun, and keeping with the YA context.

ELENA: I’d say as a human, I would choose Stefan; as a vampire, Damon. But I guess it wouldn’t matter who I would choose, since they wouldn’t choose me a second time around, that’s for sure.

SAGE: (Teasing) Well, good news for Sam.

ELENA: Okay, I shared my stories; now it’s your turn.

SAGE: Well my stories are quite boring compared to that!

ELENA: Still, spill! It’s only fair, you have leverage on me, I should have some on you.

SAGE: Fair enough. What do you want to know?

ELENA: You and Alex, what’s the story there?

SAGE: Oh god, no! Nothing like that, he’s like a brother to me.

ELENA: Aw, that’s too bad, you two are cute together. How about you and Sam, anything ever happen between you two?

SAGE: This conversation is getting dangerous...

ELENA: Oh, come on, what’s in the past is in the past; there’s nothing dangerous about that.

SAGE: Fine, you asked for it. Long time ago, one crazy drunken night; that’s all.

ELENA: I know, he told me; just wanted to check if you would be honest with me.

SAGE: (Teasing) Now who’s the bitch!

ELENA: Sorry, trust issues. Now, for real, any past epic loves?

SAGE: Uhm, not really… I mean, I’ve had many relationships but nothing serious. I’m not the deep connection type; I just like to have fun, and I don’t like to put in the time, so short and sweet works out perfectly for me.

ELENA: Crazy hookups?

SAGE: Now that is my area of expertise! Wow, where do I start… I’ve done all the clichés, mile high club being my favorite one. But I have to say, the craziest has been with someone you actually know, (mocking) the renowned city Mayor of Mystic Falls.

ELENA: (Spits out her drink) Are you serious? You had a thing with Edward Powell? How do you even know him?!

SAGE: From NYC, our hometown. We were both part of the upper east side elite; a real Gossip Girl type thing. And let me tell you, he might seem like a Nate on the outside, but inside, he is a full-on Chuck Bass. Anyway, we went to this masquerade ball at an exclusive mansion outside the city. Long story short, we ended up covering for a murder which turned out to be anything but that; it was just a really drunk-ass Wall-Street magnate, that passed out in a tub filled with red wine. Good thing he woke up before we finished filling the whole… and that he didn’t see us having sex next to what we thought was his corpse. In our defense, we were also really drunk, and high as fuck.

ELENA: Holy shit! And you call your stories boring? Wonder what the exciting ones are like!

SAGE: (Laughs; then sees that Alex and Sam are heading back to their table) Well, that’s a conversation for another night… this has been fun, but I think our girl time is over; I’m glad we had a chance to talk like this.

ELENA: Me too, and I’m sorry I was so quick to judge you.

SAGE: Dido. Friends?

ELENA: Friends.

Cut to – Akumal, Mexico. Bonnie, Damon, Stefan and Caroline are having a nice beachfront brunch.

 CAROLINE: I can’t believe this is our last day! Time went by way too fast!

BONNIE: I know, seems like we just got here.

STEFAN: How about we make a deal, right here, the four of us.

DAMON: (Teasing) Bro, we are not even done with brunch; plus, it would be way too weird…

STEFAN: Of course your mind would go there… Anyway, no, Damon, that’s not what I want to propose. How do you guys feel about spending some money and investing on a property down here? That way we can come back whenever we want.

CAROLINE: I love it, yes!!!!

BONNIE: I’m in!

STEFAN: Damon?

DAMON: Just tell me where to sign!

BONNIE: La Bruja is coming over for dinner tonight, maybe she can give us some tips on property here.

STEFAN: That be great. I’m thinking nothing too fancy, but definitely beachfront.

BONNIE: And secluded.

CAROLINE: 2 master bedrooms, 1 kids room, and two or three guestrooms for when Ty, Lexi, Matt and Alaric come visit.

DAMON: So much for “not too fancy” …

CAROLINE: I’m not saying it needs to be fancy, just spacious, there are way too many of us.

BONNIE: We’ll also need a garden, good footprint area so we can grow our own food.

CAROLINE: And a pool of course, for the girls.

STEFAN: And I think we can all agree, we need a big bar.

DAMON: And a wine cellar.

STEFAN: Maybe we’re gonna have to build it from scratch, I’m pretty sure we won’t be able to find a place that checks all of our boxes.

BONNIE: If we have someone design it for us, I’m pretty sure La Bruja and I can pull it off.

DAMON: It’s settled then, we’ll brief La Bruja over dinner and start to plan our perfect Belvafore hide-away!

STEFAN: Belvafore?

DAMON: Yes; Bennett, Salvatore, and Forbes… Belvafore!

BONNIE: (To Stefan, mocking Damon) I’m telling you, not even with his vamp back on…

CAROLINE: I like it! It’s like Steroline and Bamon!

BONNIE: Steroline and Bamon?

CAROLINE: Yes, Bamon, aka, Bonnie and Damon; isn’t it perfect?! Stefan came up with it.

STEFAN: Sorry, Bon, just a fan.

BONNIE: (Laughing) Oh, Stefan, didn’t see that one coming... And Steroline, is Stefan and Caroline...

CAROLINE: You got it! (With pride) I came up with that one!

BONNIE: (With a y’all crazy look) Okay...

DAMON: Oh, come on, Bon-Bon; Bamon, gotta love it!

BONNIE: Fine, I’ll admit it... y’all crazy but I love it!

CAROLINE: (Holds her mimosa glass up for a cheer) To Belvafore and building new traditions!

ALL: Cheers!

Cut to – The Salvatore school, Alaric’s study. Alaric, and Radka, are trying to figure out their next steps.

ALARIC: How could I have been so reckless and stupid…

RADKA: It was an honest mistake, Ric. How were you supposed to know what would happen?

ALARIC: I know how dangerous that little gadget is, it was my responsibility to keep it under lock and key. Now, thanks to me, Katherine is probably being hunted down by a psychopath.

RADKA: Katherine is strong and witty, if anyone, Kai is the one that needs to worry. I’m sure she’ll be fine; we just need to figure out how to bring her back.

ALARIC: The only one that can help with that is Bonnie, and I’m not letting her go near Kai. We need to figure out a way to do this without the need for Bennett blood.

RADKA: How about 2 werewolves, 2 vampires and a hunter… think we could pull it off?

ALARIC: The problem is not getting in, but out… there’s no way out without the right ingredients.

RADKA: Okay, I might be thinking crazy here, but we need to think outside the box. What if we ask Margo to summon a Bennett witch, she can open a temporary spirit realm and do an incarnation spell so she can be materialized; then, we go to this prison world, get Katherine and use the blood of that Bennett witch to come back…

ALARIC: That sounds insane… but it might actually work. Isn’t Margo still on sick leave?

RADKA: She’s better now, called me up this morning to let me know she’d be back tomorrow.

ALARIC: Do you think she would be up for it?

RADKA: Not sure, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.

Cut to – 2018 prison world, Stefan’s room. Katherine wakes up to find herself tied up with her mouth covered. Kai is sitting on a chair, reading. He looks quite different than expected; very clean cut and intellectual, glasses and all.

KAI: I’m sorry I had to tie you up, but I do not appreciate intruders. God, these new generations have completely lost their manners. Sneaking into other people’s homes, putting on their nightclothes, sleeping in their beds… The audacity!

(Kai gets up, walks towards one of the many jukeboxes he has installed around the house, and plays a song...)

TVD 9x11 (part 2), coming soon! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

#TVD #tvd fanfiction #bamon #bamon fanfic #damon and bonnie #bonnie bennett #damon salvatore #belvafore #ilovefanfic86 #animeeyes21 #stephm1587 #mademoisellevalerie85 #raejustrae #absentmindeddreamer #vonnitodd #bonniebennettkingdom #kikimagic2 #maniq1 #minalblood #bamon-fanfiction #bamonstrash #jakkoftreyde #luanahensi #clararosetylor #stellanoble #bamoniseternal #bamonisreal #bamonisawsome #awsomebamon #bamon shippers club

[irene-sadler]

Sir Reynard and the Red Knight

aka ‘The Tournament’

so it turns out medieval tax law is insanely complicated and even a small amount of side reading on it takes forever. if someone else is for some weird reason interested in knights' fees and some of the problems they caused my source material is this chapter in a very lectury 1895 book which goes into detail about English feudal government income in general. this is probably not the most recent scholarship on the subject and i would not try to use it as a source in a paper but I did not feel like battling with JSTOR's shitty search engine just to research a short color plot in my goofy thronebreaker fanfic. anyway welcome to part 2 of our non-adventure, enjoy (or don't, i am not a beggar.)

---

4. 

   A week later, Meve had nearly forgotten about the looming duel. She alighted from her horse in the castle courtyard and was instantly handed a report: in Dravograd there was a disagreement between the human and dwarf smithing guilds, which might soon lead to violence. The Queen turned out her favorite knight to solve the distant problem and settled into days of debate over an ongoing issue at home. The trouble, she learned, was that some of her barons had too many knights, overfilling the quota on which the crown drew an annual tax, and paid more than they preferred or could afford. Meanwhile, others had too few, with the result that the realm burdened them less. The latter outnumbered the former by a mathematically considerable amount, so that the crown’s entitlement had fallen short of the expected amount for the year; a new law was required, and had been drafted. However, the batch of them were incapable of finalizing the text of the proposed rule, especially where it concerned the amounts to be payable, and had come to a hopeless standstill in her absence. In the resulting confusion of numbers and obstruction, she only had reason to recall the tournament and its aftermath because a servant brought an unexpected letter to her office.

    She eyed the scrawled writing on the front, was informed that it had been delivered to the kitchen by a sullen-looking speechless brigand, shrugged, and left it, unopened, for Reynard. He found it some days later, when he returned from his mission.

    “Gascon doesn’t ever write,” he remarked, frowning suspiciously at the Duke’s name on the envelope, and cut it open it cautiously. He tipped it out over Meve’s desk, but it contained nothing dangerous, only a short note on dirty old paper, written in what appeared to be charcoal.

    “I presumed it was about your duel,” Meve explained, “Is it?”

    “Not - not as such,” he replied, after reading it over a second time; a baffled frown was on his face. “Says he’s departed on a quest, of all things, not to worry about him, will return when he’s finished, or else when Sir Holt gets around to fighting, whichever happens first.”

    Meve took the note out of his hand and stared at the offending word in disbelief.

    “A quest? Has he lost his mind? This isn’t a bard’s tale; he has a fief to manage, and -”

    “It’s getting on to winter, luckily,” Reynard interrupted in his most reasonable tone, “So, there’s not much managing for him to do, just now.”

    “Unless there’s a fire, or a war, or bandits,” Meve snapped, gripping the flimsy paper hard.

    “Well, you’ve made two of those possibilities rather unlikely, at the moment,” the Count said; he took the letter away and added as Meve instantly crossed her arms, “I agree; this is a ridiculous notion. However, he does appear to have had the foresight to choose a sensible time of year to have it, which is more responsible than usual. For him, I mean.”

    “He might’ve said something, instead of simply vanishing,” she complained, feeling that she was losing ground in the argument by remaining silent.

    “-and,” Reynard continued, as if she hadn’t, “He can’t have gone very far, else he’d have no way of knowing when this duel is to take place. If, indeed, it ever will.”

    Meve brightened slightly and said, “In that case, you should find it simple enough to hunt him down again.”

    “I’ll do it if you wish, of course, but will you hear my advice, first?”

    “I usually do, I suppose.”

    “I think you should just leave it be, for the time being; he’ll return in due time and patience will answer far better than action, to speed the process.”        

    “Were he anyone else, I’d have him arrested,” Meve said, the glare staying put on her face but her shoulders relaxing slightly in defeat.

    “I know that, but in truth, I believe we’ll have our stray dog back soon enough,” Reynard said gently, “All we have to do is wait.”

      Patience, instead of action, was not how Meve preferred to operate, but she did her best to do as Reynard suggested, aided considerably by the ongoing distraction of the tax problem. Intelligence crossed her desk, in relation to the knights’ fees and otherwise; no report contained information on the missing Duke, but one included a rumor that briefly distracted even her from her main priority: an informant ended his confidential message on the exact details of her northern vassals’ taxable estates on a strange note.

    “Says here an unknown knight’s rumored to be in th’ area of Hawkesburn,” she said to Reynard, after a glance around to ensure they were alone in the room. “Apparently he wears black armor and jousted with all comers who crossed his path, for two days, defeated three knights, and then, on losing to a fourth, vanished again and hasn’t been seen since.”      

    “How tiresome,” Reynard replied; she laughed at his stuffily disapproving tone and, as it was difficult to collect fees on the armored head of an unverified rumor, forgot about it. She was, after all, quite busy, cooking up a scheme to end the fee stalemate before it brought the court to a complete halt or, worse, came to blows. She set her accountants and clerks to work and soon delivered a new proposal to the court, a plan that settled the matter in a way that heavily profited the crown at the barons’ considerable expense; the document was of course rejected out of hand. She then threatened a royal command, and was pleased to find that all but the most belligerent of her vassals suddenly favored the original, far more equitable proposal that had been drawn up in the first place.

    Meanwhile, the end of autumn passed by; the last of the dull brown leaves on the trees blew away in a windstorm and the branches stood bare against the sky. Reliable reports of a werewolf near the northern border were followed, as Reynard was preparing a force to investigate, by further news that the beast had been dealt with by a black knight. The last holdout against the final version of the new tax law suddenly became perfectly amenable to the proposal, after a personal visit from Count Odo, armed with a sword and a bluntly phrased reminder of the baron’s failure to support the Queen during the war. A somewhat embarrassed young knight of Meve’s court turned up, with a believable, unembellished tale in which a stranger in black armor jousted against him on a bridge and knocked him off into the icy creek below. That same day, the new tax law was finally signed by unanimous consent of the court. The weather settled into its usual, predictable early winter pattern - two days of rain, two of sun, one of icy grayness, followed again by rain.

    Then, during the afternoon on one of the rainy days, a traveler arrived in court - a familiar man, dressed in mismatched chainmail and leather armor, and bearing a message from Sir Holt of the Fen. Meve happened to be in the armory, considering a new crossbow that could fire two bolts on a single load; he was shown in, followed immediately by Reynard. The sergeant broke off his explanation of the crossbow’s double trigger system, raised an alarmed eyebrow at the Count’s dark expression, and promptly invited himself out; the messenger seemed to feel similarly about the situation and wasted no time making his speech:

    “My master asks for your assistance, Your Grace; he was - “ the messenger paused, frowning uncertainly, produced a paper with writing on both sides, and read from it, squinting nearsightedly, “ - he was, I quote, assailed at night at an isolated crossroads, by a knight errant well armed in black armor who spake not; there they did fight a mighty battle for hours -”

    “Skip to th’ end, sir,” the Queen said, casually picking a sword from a rack; the messenger glanced at it, quickly flipped the paper over, and summarized the rest:

    “ - anyway, he was struck down by the stranger, following which the black knight disappeared into the darkness, as if by an enchantment, and - well, in short, he requests that you send an appropriate force to apprehend the villain. Also, he wishes to inform my lord the Count that he is prepared to do battle with the same, at the Count’s convenience.”

    “About damn time,” the Count growled under his breath.

    “To clarify,” the Queen said, a slightly malicious gleam in her eye, “Sir Holt, after challenging the best out of all my knights to a personal combat, wants me to send him along to fight off a brigand that he is unable to defeat, himself.”

    “That’s about the size of it, my lady,” the messenger said, absently folding his paper into a square and looking carefully blank. She eyed him thoughtfully, wondering what role, exactly, he filled in Sir Holt’s retinue; the question was irrelevant, and so she set it aside for later consideration.

    “I see. Well, Count Odo, what say you?”

    “I am at your command, as always, Your Grace,” he said stiffly.

    “Very well; we’ll depart for Sir Holt’s lands tomorrow morning,” she decided, idly studying the sword she held. “I believe I’d like to meet this mysterious knight for myself; my court sorceress will solve any enchantments, and there will be nowhere for him to hide.”

      The messenger bowed his way out; Meve waited a good half minute for him to be well out of earshot and then stepped across to a large map tacked to the armory wall. She considered the north of the country and noted, casually, “Gascon’s estates and Sir Holt’s aren’t so far apart; they’re neighbors, in fact.”

    “Oh?”

    “Well,” she said, turning back with the sword pointed toward Reynard, “I know of only one anonymous knight errant in black armor in my kingdom, and I certainly have not been riding about the country in the middle of the night, fighting with passing strangers and killing occasional monsters. At least, not recently.”

    “No, I daresay I would have noticed, if you were,” Reynard allowed with a fond smile. “So, then, who do you suspect?”

    “I don’t know, yet,” Meve said, looking down the length of the blade at him. “It just seems odd that the place where I fought incognito is so near to where a similarly attired knight is now causing trouble. I take issue, sir, with some stranger stealing my disguise and ruining the reputation I forged in it.”

    “Or,” he suggested, eyes narrowing, “Perhaps what’s happened is that Sir Holt, not making any connection between the black knight of the tournament and the similar knight at Hawkesburn, heard the same story we did about the latter and invented this tale of his defeat, to draw me out to the countryside and thereby avoid fighting me on home ground.”

    “Ah,” she said, lowering the sword. “Yes, I suppose that’s a plausible theory. I can send someone else out, if you’d prefer.”

    Her heart lurched suddenly as a slight, dangerous smile crossed his face. She set the sword down absently, said, “No, I didn’t think you would,” and abandoned consideration of far-away knights, black or red, in favor of the much more interesting example she had immediately to hand.

      The next morning dawned clear and the weather remained dry; Reynard’s picked company needed little encouragement to take full advantage. The General was in an uncommon hurry, it was plain to see, and so they traveled until late each night with only short breaks. During their third, bitterly cold, evening, a scout came down the column toward his commander and reported, “Seen an armed horseman not far up the way.”

    “A highwayman,” the Count suggested; the Queen, overhearing them, said, “Or the black knight.”

    The scout shook his head.

    “Not likely a knight, my lady, nor no bandit neither, sir, I figure, but I’ll wager he waits for passerby, whatever.”

    “It’s just th’ one man,” the Count said, shrugging; nevertheless the column continued somewhat more slowly, with eyes kept to the dark trees around and arrows on their bowstrings. They reached the turn in the road that the scout indicated and paused; the stranger was still there, sitting his horse in the moonlight under a dark hood, apparently waiting. The Queen and Count both leaned forward to squint suspiciously at the oddly familiar figure, and several of the warband as well; the Count then pulled an exasperated frown and sat up suddenly in his saddle.

    “Oh, for the love of -”

    “Stand down,” Meve ordered, cutting Reynard off, “We know this fellow.”

    The stranger laughed, pulled his hood down, and bowed grandly toward his audience. Meve kicked her horse into motion as Reynard said, irritably, “Nice of you to rejoin society, Brossard.”

    “Couldn’t miss your duel, could I?” the Duke replied, brightly; the knight had no time to reply as Meve approached, turned her horse, grabbed the Duke’s stirrup, and yanked upwards, tipping him off the opposite side of his alarmed mount. He hit the road with a grunt and immediately sprang upright, surprised and angry, caught sight of the grim expression on the Queen’s face, and mastered himself with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. She said nothing and rode away; the column followed, leaving Reynard behind.

    “Well,” the Duke said, after the last of the warband passed on, “I suppose my unhorsing was long overdue.”

    The Count shook his head disapprovingly, recaptured Gascon’s mare, and waited for the other man to clamber, wincing, back into the saddle.

    “Nice to see you, too,” Gascon added, settling himself and picking dead leaves off his jacket. “Ouch.”

    “Hmm,” Reynard replied doubtfully, releasing the horse.

    “Yes, quite, and no more need be said on the subject. Anyway, I rode out t’ invite you and your company to stay at my place. My other place, I mean; the lodge, not the fort, which is inconveniently located for our, um, purposes. It’s about an hour’s ride from here,” he added, in response to the knight’s unspoken question. “I stationed a man partway, to direct you; I myself ought t’ ride on ahead and ensure all’s prepared. Under the circumstances, if you’d kindly relay th’ invitation to your lady love for me, I’d be much obliged.”

    “Yes,” Reynard agreed, “That’s probably th’ only good idea you’ve had all month.”

    “Well, you know what they say about clocks,” Gascon said, cheerfully enough. “Or is it th’ one about blind squirrels? Anyway, I’ll see you later.”

    He galloped off; Reynard sighed and hurried to catch up with the column.

      Half an hour later, at a fork in the road, they found Ethan waiting; the squire awkwardly led the warband through the dark woods, attempting to look anywhere except at its silent leader. They arrived just before midnight at a building which resembled a typical hunting lodge in the same way that Rivia Castle resembled the Brossard fort. Meve displayed no particular interest in the vast exterior, built out of the crumbling remains of an elven fortress, or the several hundred hunting trophies mixed with long since out of fashion furnishings that filled the drafty rooms within it. As they entered, Reynard said quietly to her, “Reminds me of my grandfather, this place,” which dragged a slight smile through her tense displeasure; nevertheless she stayed stubbornly silent until they were out of sight and hearing of anyone else but the uncharacteristically courteous Gascon.

    “This house is like that menagerie Foltest keeps in Vizima,” she finally remarked, studying a white bearskin rug with the snarling head still attached, “Except that th’ animals are mostly still alive there, of course.”

    “I haven’t had the time to redecorate,” Gascon ventured with the air of a man testing the waters. “In truth, this is only the second time I’ve ever been here, myself. My mother never wanted t’ come here when I was young; said it was creepy.”

    “She wasn’t entirely wrong,” Meve said, glancing around at the strange shadows the animal heads threw on the walls in the firelight. Reynard shrugged unconcernedly and put an arm around her. A slightly awkward silence fell.

    “Would you like to see a camelopard’s head?” Gascon asked, breaking it; Meve looked interested, instead of icily distant, and he pointed the rare trophy out, just over the fireplace in company with a few other preserved monsters. They sat and regarded it for a moment.

    “That,” Reynard stated flatly, “Is a horse’s head with spots painted on it.”

    “It was quite a fine horse, however,” Meve said with an amused smile, her bad mood forgotten.

    “And they’re well-painted spots,” Gascon replied, grinning.

    By morning, the incident on the road the night before had been forgotten, by unspoken mutual consent. Meve and Reynard passed an hour of the morning in an argument over their next move; Gascon, meanwhile, conveniently vanished to negotiate with the enemy camp. Eventually the disagreement was resolved by some cunning diplomacy on Meve’s part; she and Isbel then departed to investigate the mystery of the black knight, leaving Reynard behind to await his second’s return.

    Rain had set in; they rode through cold drizzle, accompanied by a miserable escort. Isbel considered the dripping soldiers and the sparse, leafless scrub trees that dominated the roadside and finally said, “If the black knight, so-called, can vanish, perhaps by enchantment, as you suggested when you dragged me along on this excursion, it isn’t by light of day, and certainly not into these woods.”

    “I know that,” Meve said.

    “Then what, may I ask, is the point of this?”

    “Why, the fresh air and exercise,” she replied. Silence returned after, for a time, and then the sorceress, in a tone of deep disgust, said, “You’re hoping to find this person before Sir Reynard does, aren’t you?”

    “Well - all right; we’ve something of a wager going, on that ring I won in the tourney, and the next of us to win a fight will also win the prize. He, of course, is expecting this duel any day now, so the sooner I find the black knight, the better, as there’s not much chance he’ll lose it.”

    The sorceress sighed, cast a despairing look skyward, and noted, “The black knight perhaps does not exist, or may not be found in these parts.”

    “Yes, that’s Reynard’s theory,” Meve said, casually, “But I disagree.”

      They returned that evening empty-handed and damp, to find Reynard in a state of abject boredom. His gloom was only slightly lessened by Meve’s return and her lack of success; noticing the depressed atmosphere, she attempted to engage him in a chat about the weather, and then, when the conversation failed, talked aimlessly at him about the latest advancements in crossbow design. Gascon returned as night was falling, long after she’d stopped trying to shift his mood and had resigned herself to examining the hunting trophies in the melancholy silence.

    “We’ve chosen the field,” he said, “I just went to have a look, as it’s not all that far away. It looks decent; not too many holes in it, and I don’t think it’ll be flooded from all this rain.”

    “When?” Reynard asked, testily.

    “Tomorrow evening,” said Gascon, “And I should warn you that th’ opposition’s clearly intending to use the sunset to his advantage, should the weather clear, but then, perhaps it won’t.”

    Meve glanced out the nearest window; the rain had turned spotty after dark, and she could see stars through patches in the clouds at the western horizon. She frowned and left the men to an involved discussion of the field’s layout; neither of them appeared to notice her departure. She found Isbel studying the camelopard head with a dubious frown. The sorceress kept up the expression as she explained the latest development and only said, wearily, “These men,” in response.

    “I thought,” Meve said, idly, “That, perhaps, you’re right about the black knight.”

    “Oh?”

    “Yes; he certainly shouldn’t vanish very well, by day, at least; we really ought to be hunting for him at night, instead.”

    “In this weather?”

    “Well, it’s inconvenient, to be sure, and would make fighting him much more difficult, and I suppose that any advantage is worth th’ effort,” Meve said significantly, eying the older woman. Isbel considered the statement a moment.

    “Is Sir Reynard in any significant danger?” she asked, pointedly.

    “Doubtful,” Meve replied, waving the idea off as it if was impossible; hadn’t even crossed her mind; “This isn’t that serious of a matter. He may be injured, I suppose, but not killed - not on purpose, at least, and he’s been a knight too long for an accident to be likely.”

    “Well then, perhaps I might leave early,” Isbel suggested, looking unconvinced.

    “The fight’s tomorrow evening,” Meve noted, apparently ignoring the request, “Do you think that the weather will hold, or clear?”

    “I don’t know,” Isbel answered, reluctantly. “It’s hard to tell, so far in advance, at this time of year; I suppose it may not.”

    “As you say,” Meve said, flashed her victorious smile, and added, “Travel safely; we’ll see you at home.”

#thronebreaker #witcher #action #romance #sports