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#when will people let c2 live
gwynbleiddyn · 2 years
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broke: i love campaign 3 because i think we’ll have a c2 crossover/we’ll see essek/we’ll see caleb
woke: i love campaign 3 because it’s a good campaign
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xxblairexxss · 10 months
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Saving your bacon
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x medicstudent!reader
Theme : Light on angst, more heavy of fluff
Word count : 3.4k
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I feel like something’s missing but I’m not sure what it is and I don’t wanna keep this in my draft so I’m just gonna drop and dip. Oh, and I wanted to switch up and play around with reader’s personality instead of sticking to one so this time around, reader is more (idk how to explain) but more bright????? And I also don’t want to write her as someone struggling with her studies just because I think I have seen the same plot a few times around so let’s just say she enjoyed doing what she did. I know you asked for more angry Charles but for some reason I found him more of a people pleaser so it’s hard to write him getting angry at the crowd. 😭
Warnings, inaccurate medical term and procedure, as usual.
Requested!
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Charles was catching up to his favourite series, all sluggish and slothful on his day off when he heard your footsteps and humming got closer and closer to which he immediately took a cushion near him and laid down, pretending to sleep.
“Oh?” Your little skip stopped when you reached the living room. You were so, completely sure he was awake because you sworn you heard him laughed at one of the jokes on the television a few minutes ago. Stepping closer, you saw the way his lashes slightly fluttered as he bit the inside of his lip, holding his smile from exposing his little trick. “You are not sleeping!” You called out and chortled, quickly placing your medical files on the tea table before diving into his embrace, making him groaned from the sudden impact. “I caught you!”
“You got the wind knocked out of me, baby.” He moved a little so you could settle down by his side. “What do you need me to do today?”
“How do you know I was gonna ask for your help?” You cackled in his arm at the way he looked completely unfazed with your requests by now.
“Because this isn’t the first time. I just knew how your steps would sound like if you needed my help.”
“Yeah? How does it sound like?” You sat up and his hand snaked its way under your shirt instantly.
“Can’t explain it in words. Lay down or sit up?”
“Lay down! Wait,” You took back your medical files and scanned through your notes. “Oh, wait! No, no! Sit up and turn that way.”
“That way?”
“Yeah! And close your eyes! I’ll be right back.”
Charles had his eyes shut, sitting up straight facing the balcony of his apartment while trying to catch up with the dialogs coming from the tv series he was watching. “No way! I missed the important scene, did– ouch!” He jolted to the front when something cold was pressed on his neck, sending shiver up to her head. “Babe, what was that?!”
“Ice pack! Sit back down!” You pulled him back and placed the ice pack back on what you imagine the pain would be.
“It’s cold! Can’t we just pretend to use an ice pack instead of– cold! Babe, it’s cold! Instead of using actual ice pack?” You held him by his shirt to stop him from moving away while you repetitively went back to scan through your notes.
“Stay still! I’m trying to get these right! Oh, I need to move it in circular motion and never let it sit for more than 20 minutes on the same spot.” You leaned against his back and giggled. “I nearly gave you frostbite!”
“Are we done yet, babe?” He tilted his head to the side to catch your eyes, while still obeying every instructions.
“Wait, let me do one last check on the C1 and C2 first.”
Charles had always been your some sort of medical dummy ever since you started your medical school residency. You would always come to him whenever you needed to revise some of the notes that you had written as you went through different types of medical or surgical problems. Thought it looked more like you were trying to disturb your boyfriend’s peace, it actually helped you a lot. And though it looked like your boyfriend was trying to hide and ran away whenever you needed his help, he was actually excited to be apart of your dummy, claiming to be his some sort of contribution to your career.
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“Oh, this is sour! Babe, give it a try.” His face was all wrinkled up as he tried to feed you the fruit to which you refused. “Try it.”
“I don’t like sour berries!”
“It’s good though.” He popped another one into his mouth and shivered when the sourness hit, causing you to laugh.
“Your face doesn’t seem like it. I think I picked the wrong batch, baby. We need to let it ripe a little longer.” You sprinkled some salt into the the pot before letting it stir. Charles was too busy chumbling on the berries to realise that you had been staring at him with your arms folded.
“So,” You spoke and he stopped chewing.
“Why? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, but let’s say you come in with your nose bleeding.” You moved closer, half leaning your body against his side with your head tilted up so you could admire his pretty face.
“Ah, so we are doing this?” He pushed the berries away and propped both hand on the kitchen counter. “Okay, let’s pretend my nose is bleeding. What’s next?”
“And I asked you how did your nose bleed. What would you say?”
“Babe, I’m completely lost with whatever topic or disease you are proposing right now.” He hummed, eyes wandered away to think of an answer. “I would say “How I would know, doctor. That’s your job to find out.””
“Charles!” You bursted out laughing and he chuckled along, casually left a soft pinch on your cheek.
“I don’t know, pretty. What should I say?”
“Let’s say you got into a mild accident a few hours ago but you refused to go to the hospital because you thought you were fine but then!” You dramatically gasped and Charles’s eyes widen in amusement. “Then you started feeling blockage in breathing. This is one of the symptoms for?”
His lips curved downwards as he shrugged. “I don’t know. Flu?”
“Wrong!”
“Dang it, that was my best shot. What is it then?”
You giggled and stood on your toes to kiss on his cheek. Charles would always try to answer your questions though he never got any of it right but you just found it adorable how he never gave up because he said he would get it right one day. “Septal hematoma! I need to drain it before it collapses your nasal bridge.”
“Really?! Wow, never knew that. How do you drain it?”
“You are gonna fall asleep before I even start explaining the first procedure. Oh, are we still going to the event tonight?”
“What event?” He raised his brow and his mouth went wide when he realised about it. He was talking about an event a few weeks ago and you decided to tag along. You were rarely seen attended any of his weekend events. Even more after you started your practical and though he never said anything about it, you still felt guilty about it, especially when you saw his pictures at any events that you didn’t attend, all alone while most of his friends would have their partners by their side.
He was a little dubious when you told him you wanted to attend his next event. He didn’t want to make it seems as if he was forcing you to do something that you didn’t want to because he knew both of you have different schedules and accountability as a student and an athlete, or public figure. You had to reassure him that it was something you wanted to do, not because you felt like he was forcing you in some sort of way. A fresh breath of air was the reason that you came up with, professing that you needed to get away from your cases this weekend.
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“Are you sure you want to go?”
“I’m all dressed up!” You clipped on your left earrings and gave a little twirl. You had chosen a satin dress with crisscross backless as it would be the perfect dress considering the event was more leaning towards an informal night out vibe. “Why?You don’t… want me to go?”
“No, that’s not what I meant, babe.” He held your hand, wrapping both of his and your arms on your waist as he turned you around, making you faced the mirror. “You are literally the most beautiful doctor I have ever seen.” He stared at your reflection admiringly, giving a soft smile when he locked his eyes with yours in the mirror and pecked on your neck.
“Nice try, handsome but I’m not a qualified one yet.”
“But you will be.”
“Not if I fail my residency.” You spun your body to face him, hands on his shoulders as you found yourself getting butterflies from seeing his face up close, even after all these years.
“Did you forget how many times you made me suffer with all those on hand practices? It’s impossible for you to fail.” He stole a kiss on your newly applied gloss and left the room before you could scream at him.
“Stop kissing me when I got my lip gloss on!”
“Can’t help myself. Come on, we gotta go.”
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“Is this normal?” You blinked as Charles made the final turn towards the entrance of the club. There were tons of people with cameras hung around their neck gathered in front of the building. They would congregate towards every cars regardless of who it was.
“No, not at all. It might have something to do with the other event that is happening at the casino, I think.” Charles saw you clasped your hands together on your lap and knew what you were feeling even when he didn’t see your face. “You okay, babe?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little surprised.”
“It’s okay. I’m not gonna leave you behind. Don’t let go of my hand okay?” He unbuckled his seatbelt and was going to unlock the door, when he stopped himself. “No, babe, hold on. Wait for me.” You retreated your hand from the shotgun door as he hopped off the car. Charles handed his car key to the valet staff who greeted him as he walked around to get to your side. You saw the flash went off, following your boyfriend all the way to your side. Though the front windscreen window was half tinted, you could still see how bright it was.
“Ready?” Charles leaned in, one hand gripped on the door seal and other arm at the end of his car roof to make sure you felt safe and had the people blocked before your could step out.
“Ready!”
He offered a hand, while keeping his other on still gripping of the weatherstrip so the door wouldn’t be opened too wide. “Don’t let go of my hand, okay?” He brushed his lips on your cheek before moving away so you could step out.
The first few interactions with the fans were fine. He was handed notebooks, caps, and shirts to be signed. Even a few selfies here and there. You were gripping on his jacket, a little uneasy when you heard a few men with cameras started shouting and scream. At first it sounded far, as if it came from the casino so it shouldn’t be a problem to you. Soon enough, the shouting went louder as if it was brought closer to you by a wave and the fans who were asking for Charles’s autographs and pictures began yelling out to stop the shove and push. Charles heard the commotion and intertwined his hand with yours before making his way to the building before it got any worse.
The flashes suddenly went off to your direction and you could barely see where you should placed your heels, your free hand immediately tried to shield your face. Even some of the fans from earlier started to get shoved around, some even used it as an opportunity to take closer pictures of both you and Charles.
“Charles..” You breathed out, feeling yourself getting pushed. You could feel the crowd getting closer as you tried go get out of the way. He didn’t reply but you could feel his grip on your hand getting more firm as he tried to step away from the crowd.
“Don’t push!”
“Give them space!”
You kept on hearing the words being shouted over and over amongst the crowd but you still felt all closed up with them getting closer and closer regardless of the orders. You let out a gasp when you lost your balance as the crowd started pushing one another, causing a few of them to accidentally inclined towards you.
He stopped and turned back, looking all worried. “You okay? Baby, here. Hold my arm.” You regained your composure and held, more like clinging on his arm while your other hand still fully secured in his. It felt like forever for you to pass your way through the throng, even with the help of the person in charged because none of them even bother to listen and kept on pushing one another towards you.
“Stop it!”
You heard another howl from one of the crowd when you stumbled back as few people were pushed in front of you, the impact caused your hand to slip away from Charles when you tried to move away from the pack of people, your arms were pressed on your chest while you swayed back and forth from constantly being pushed from every sides.
“Y/N– excuse me!” Charles tried to get back to you but he got pushed back by the crowd even more.
“I can’t– !” He heard you called out to him before your voice was swamped with voices amongst the number of people.
You tried to wrap your arms around your body, feeling as if you taking up the space was the reason why you felt suffocating and squeezed up but a sudden shove caused you to jerk forward. You tried stop your fall with your hand but the impact sent a jolt of pain on your wrist. The pain made you wince as you tried to retract your hand but it was stepped on over and over by the number of feet around you.
“Charles, here.”
He was pulled out from the crowd and was being assisted, more like dragged towards the entrance of the building before he stepped back. “I need to get back to my girlfriend.”
“Leave it to us.”
“No.” He sprinted back out and tried to scan amongst the crowd. It got a little under control now that they had enforced more people in charge though the pushing and shoving was still going on.
“Please let me pass..” It took you a while to get back on your feet and tried to squeeze your way out when a camera was thumped on your face, causing your head to tilt. You couldn’t see anything else other than constant flash and light. You started choking back tears and dabbed on your philtrum when it felt like something warm trickled down your nose.
You tried to move away, hand kept on wiping your philtrum as the blood was still leaking down your nose when you felt a firm grip on your arm, yanking you away and out from the crowd. Charles had saw you in the midst and just grabbed on whatever he could get. The grip was harder that he had wished for but he needed to get you somewhere safe, regardless whatever force he had to use.
Your face was forcefully crashed against something hard but you were too beat to repudiate that you continued to cry against the embrace. It was when the familiar scent hit you when you finally realised it was your boyfriend.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you. I’m so, so, sorry.”
You refused to pull away, your whole body was aching but the stroke on your hair and the strong grip on your back made you feel safe, away from the furore. “I was– “ You sobbed. “I was so scared.”
He could feel you trembling in his hold, your head tried to look back to make sure you were really away from the people. “Y/N– Y/N, look at me. Baby, look at me. You’re okay. I got you. You’re okay.”
He leaned away but you could still feel his body latching against yours. “Fuck, you’re bleeding.” Holding your face in his hands, he started scanning through your pretty face. That was when he actually saw the bruise on your temple, your bloody nose and your flushed cheeks. When he caught you by your arm earlier, he was a little at eased as it felt like you weren’t harm but you were far from it. You kept on sobbing, your hand wiped on your tears that was threaten to fall from your chin. “Let’s go home, alright? I’m taking you home.”
Charles wrapped his arm on your waist as you leaned against him while he tried to get you to his just newly parked car.
“Y/N, a picture!” One of the paparazzi snatched on your sprained arm, causing you to shriek in pain.
“Hands off my girl.” He pushed the guy away, feeling so close to land a punch on that face but he had to hold himself from causing any scene that he knew would feed these people even more. Instead of placing his hand back to your waist, he lifted you up in his arms as you placed one arm across his neck, the sprained arm to your chest. He didn’t know you had any other injury because your hand was out of his sight the whole time.
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“Is your nose still bleeding?”
“I think so…” You dabbed the tissue that Charles had given to you when he got in the car and still found a fresh, wet blood stained.
“Keep on pinching your nose, alright?”
“Where did you learn how to treat nosebleed?” You tilted your head to the side and stared at your boyfriend in surprise.
“From my doctor girlfriend.” He gave your hair a stroke and pressed on the pedal as the light turned green.
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“Baby, stay there. I’m gonna get the first aid kit.” He left you and rummaged through the kitchen drawers. “Let’s treat your wrist first.”
You winced and pulled your arm away when he wanted to place it on his lap. “It hurts..” You didn’t think it was that bad but it still hurt. The tears started to fill your eyes again but you looked away so it wouldn’t roll down onto your already wet cheeks.
“Oh, was it too harsh? Sorry, baby.” He scooted closer and tried to place your hand on his lap more gentle this time. “Here. I’m gonna use– yeah, I’m gonna use the one with velcro.”
“Do you know how to do it?”
“Yeah, I have seen you did it to me before.”
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flash
Charles groaned a little when he heard you placed all sort of stuffs in front of him. “Babe, can I borrow your hand?” He heard you whispered as you sat cross legged on the floor.
“Right now, baby? Let me sleep 5 more minutes.”
“You can just keep on laying down.” You replied as you pull his hand from under his head. He was laying on his stomach on the couch before you disturbed his peace with the first add kid and your notes with you. “I just need your hand.” He is still in the same position, just his arm dangling from the end of the couch.
“Like this,” He heard you kept on murmuring, as if you were chanting something whilst he was trying to get back to sleep. “and this,” He peered at you first with a frown and soon after a smile formed on his lips. “around the thumb,” You were completely focused on wrapping his hand with the compression bandage, completely unaware and thinking he was still sound asleep. He would always find the little wrinkles in between your brows whenever you were too focused on some things made you look so adorable so instead of dozing back, he was gazing at you with fondness.
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“I thought you were asleep when I wrapped your hand!”
“I wasn’t. Your little mumble kept me awake.” He rolled the elastic compression bandage around your wrist one last time before securing it with the velcro. “There you go. Did I do I right?”
“Yeah!” You held your now fully wrapped wrist. “I think you did it better than me.”
Charles had left you again to get an ice pack and you leaned against the back pillows. You were expecting neon lights and loud music before you left the house, not coming back with bleeding nose, bruise, and a sprained wrist.
“You okay, baby?”
“Yeah, just a little overwhelm. Can we cuddle?” He then took a spot next to you, ice pack still in hand as as you leaned your head on his shoulder. His hand is on your back while you propped your legs on his laps.
“How did you get those bruise on your head?”
“One of the man accidentally hit me on the face but I don’t think it was on purpose.” You were playing with his necklace when dabbed the ice pack on your temple, causing you to move away. “It’s cold!”
“Oh, so now it’s cold? Was it warm when you dabbed it on my neck for no reason a few days ago?” He pulled you closer to dab the ice pack back on your bruise. “Baby, stay still!”
“I’m getting brain freeze! Stop it!” You giggled and pushed him away.
“You are overreacting! It’s not even 20 minutes yet.”
✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj
if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!
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pxrxcxa · 2 years
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Opposite Ends
Chapter One - Welcome to Hawkins High
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C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C10 | C11 | C12 | C13 pt 1 | C13 pt 2 |
Chapter 2 is out now - enjoy Sunflowers, P. x 🌻
Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship
Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since her freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.
The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.
What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending, fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.
Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content
Chapter word count | 3.2k word count
Chapter warnings | Mention of physical abuse & Drug use
Any & All comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿
Authors Note | I really hoped you enjoyed it & if you read the entire chapter then thank you for reading! I plan on putting a lot of effort into this story so it may be slow going at first before we see some development between Eddie x y/n. Feel free to let me know what you think! Take care sunflower 🌻, P. x
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Y/N | October 1985
It had not even surpassed a month since the quote 'Fire of Starcourt Mall devastates Hawkins' had been splayed across static ridden TV sets in almost every household as it broke across our dearest - and allegedly cursed -towns news headlines and quickly spiralled into a national sensation, the deaths of the flayed blamed on it.
I didn't have to imagine what people thought about that "poor dammed Hawkins town' when they saw the news, up until June I was of the same mind as the rest of the towns terrified residents. Housewives had huddle together in the aisles of Hawkins stores; heads close together as the whispers broke out above the white noise. 
“Yes, that’s right, ever since that Byers boy went missing, nothing has been right and all of these tragic deaths. I’m telling you Helen; it almost devilish what’s been happening. Hawkins can’t catch a break, we’re cursed, cursed I tell you.” 
And with those venomous words loudly whispered into the eagerly awaiting ears of the notorious town gossip, it had taken only all of an afternoon for that gossip to turn factual and become the opinion held in the highest regard by most residents. Unlike those oblivious to the actual truth, I liked to think I wouldn’t have been so naive and gullible to believe the theories circulating the grapevine, some even more farfetched and implausible than what actually occurred last summer.  
Well, almost, I amended. Sometimes I wondered if I would have been better off being continually blissfully unaware of what was beneath my feet at this exact moment. But my brother Dustin and his nerdy friends had come to me for help, whirling me into the most thrilling and traumatising week of my life. 
Somehow having read some Russian literature and being able to crack some stupid code that Dustin wouldn’t explain the importance of, corelated to me being stuck in a secret Soviet Russian base elevator underground the famous Starcourt mall. I had sat with my head between my knees for hours, the cold metal of the grates in the floor pushing into my thighs while Dustin explained the past 3 years of our lives from his point of view. 
I couldn’t keep up with his voice. Between some band geek from school that I recognised by face only, rubbing my back and kept asking if I was going to hurl, Lucas Sinclair’s kid sister humorous running commentary interrupting Dustin’s story at points and Steve the freaking hair Harrington pacing with his hands on his hips, inspecting the roof and telling Dustin to hurry up. I cut him off halfway through telling a story of something called a Dart. His goofy grin faded from his face as I stood up quickly, rubbing my hand roughly against my eyes to push away the images his irrational words had painted. 
“Let me see if I’ve got this.” I had started ticking off my fingers. 
“Byers wasn’t lost in the woods but was in fact in some other underground dimension of Hawkins.”
“The upside down.” Dustin interrupted me.
I continued like I hadn’t heard him “There’s some girl with superpowers who always saves you guys, and there’s something called a demodorgan that eats people?” Dustin opened his mouth to correct me, but Steve beat him to it. 
“We don’t have time for this dingus, in case you haven’t noticed we are stuck in a literal Russian based filled with soldiers that are probably going to shoot us the moment they find us.” His voice raised to an unattractive shrill at the end, I examined him closer, dressed in that dorky ice-cream uniform with panic plastered across his face it was hard to imagine that he had once been my biggest crush in middle school. Although I doubted I looked much better. 
“One last thing.” I grumbled as my hands flailed at my sides.
“Everyone else, literally everyone else knew about this except for me?” I questioned the room, but my eyes were on my baby brother. Anger was coursing through me, but also shame, it was hard to not believe that what he was saying was true given where I was standing at that very moment, no matter how preposterous all of it sounded, but shame at the fact that he hadn’t included me in this earlier. That Steve the hair Harrington had been a better older sibling than I had, I had been too focused on getting the best grades in school and over analysing every interaction I had with Billy while giggling with my friends, to see what clearly had to be happening in front of my eyes. 
In that moment I had thought our situation couldn’t get worse. But then Steve, myself and Robin the band geek had held onto each other like a lifeline as we were each interrogated by the Russian soldiers, while Dustin and Erica ran for help. And the lasting physical damage from that didn’t even begin to compare to the consequences after the events of the fire, consequences that we were all still dealing with to this day. 
I would have happily taken beatings from trained six foot grown Russian soldiers for the rest of my life if it meant the Mind Flayer never came top side. If it meant that I would catch glimpses of bruised skin out of the corner of my eyes as I passed my reflection in the hallways at school, instead of black worming lines that weren’t really there, crawling over my cheeks and pouring into my head. It had taken weeks for me to convince myself that it was just remnants of PTSD, or whatever the school counsellor had called it, that was causing the fleeting images to stalk me during my waking hours and follow me into my nightmares, seemingly doomed to plague my broken, murky mind forever.
That was the funny thing about shared trauma, the bond it created with those involved. Even though half of the group was split in more ways than one, it was ironic that I’d complained about being left out of the loop for so long, only to be practically joined at the hip with the members of the group that remained behind in Hawkins after the fire. 
Max and I had found comfort in each other’s presence, silently understanding each other’s feelings over Billy. Since her stepfather had left and she had moved to the trailer park with her mom it had become the daily routine to drive her to and from school together every day, her home was out of the high school bus route and even though it wasn’t that far of a walk, I didn’t feel comfortable leaving her to her own devices. 
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As I drove to the trailer park Max and her mother resided in, my eyes came to rest on the clothes flapping on the washing line next to her home, as I turned my car off Curly road, down her street. The familiar gravel of the makeshift street crunching away under the tires. She was perched on the weathered steps, wearing Billy’s jacket as always and headphones already covering her ears. No doubt playing that new ‘Hounds of love’ album, I could hear it sometimes when Max was having a particularly bad day and she blasted it as loud as possible it on her Walkman. Probably to drain out whatever thought or memory harassed her, the first time I wanted to chastise her about making her eardrums bleed I caught myself. I did things I wasn’t supposed to, to block out my own demons. Who was I to judge about how Max dealt with hers. 
“Y/N” Dustin pulled me out of my thoughts from the seat next to me as the rolled the car to a stop, Max pulled the back door open and slid into the seat, nodding her head as her morning acknowledgment. “You’ve been in the school for three years longer than me so you should know what clubs there are!” Dustin smacked his walkie and shoved the antenna down in frustration. ”Dammit Mike!” The asphalt flew away beneath the car as I pushed the gas pedal down faster. Itching to get the day over as fast as possible. 
“Do I look like I’m even remotely interested in your nerdy stuff to even pay the slightest bit of attention to what clubs you might like?” Although it might have been a good idea to see what group I could off load my brother and Mike wheeler to, it was the last day of the first week of high school and they were still following me around like lost sheep. My senior year, the one where I needed to concentrate the most and I was stuck running a baby-sitting club. I rocked in my seat as we drove over the speedbump leading into the school’s carpark. 
“What’s hellfire?” My neck snapped to look at Dustin.
“Wh – what?” I sputtered, “How do you know about them?” He pointed to a duo walking in the swarm headed to the school’s entrance. Gareth and Jeff I thought, but it was hard to tell from the distance, my eyesight was worsening, and I made a mental note to find my glasses in my bombshell of a room, sooner rather than later. Dustin must have seen their shirts. 
“So?” He pushed, eyeing me curiously. 
“I don’t know man, they’re a club I guess, they play some game...” I tightened my grasp on the wheel and looked over my shoulder to park. 
“What game?” He drew out his question like he already knew the answer. I groaned internally already sensing where this was heading. Apparently so did Max. 
“Bye.” She murmured as she slinked out of the backseat, sliding her bag up her shoulder and burrowing down into the safety of her oversized jacket. 
"Some fantasy game” I shrugged nonchalantly as his eyes bulged in his skull. Killing the engine and gathering my stuff, I spoke before he could. “You’re staying away from them, Eddie Munson’s a member and he’s a freak.” I explained forcefully, the words burned my tongue on the way out, I was sure the words ‘hypocrite’ were plastered on my forehead. 
“He’s a freak because he plays a game?” He scoffed looking at me disbelievingly, with traces of disdain.
I rushed to explain myself “No I just – he just – look, he’s dangerous and you aren’t to go near him, no discussion.” He just grinned and jumped out. Rolling down the passenger side window I shouted at his retreating back “No discussion!” 
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With robotical movements, ingrained from following the same path for almost four years, I made my way to my locker to grab the necessary books for my first class of the day. Ignoring the lingering and longing stares thrown my way, the whispers had dissipated weeks ago. New morsels of gossip were either discovered or created far too often to focus on any specific one to cause any real discomfort. 
After the fire, everything had changed, it wasn’t just the physical impact it had. Anyone could see the holes that the deaths had created in Hawkins, but there was one that affected me more than anyone else's. Suddenly the basketball team wasn’t as loud, the hallways were missing a certain cologne and I still waited five minutes after the last bell rung to hear the smooth purr of an engine that would never roar to life again. 
In the terms of Hawkins Highs newsletter, I may as well be a victim of the fire to. Sweet perfect Y/F/N didn’t care about cheerleading, or basketball, or parties, or boys or friends anymore. I was just an empty shell, an echo of the bright person they grew up with. They said Billy’s death changed me, that I was too heartbroken to continue on without him. They weren’t all wrong, loosing Billy, and – my heart squeezed painfully with the memories of what happened right after that - did change me. I would never admit it to listening ears, lest it get back to Max, but I was well and truly over Billy in a romantic sense. The past 4 months brought my inane problems and mundane life into excruciating clear focus, suddenly what I was going to wear to the after-game party didn’t matter. Graduating as soon as possible so I could escape the town that had its talons in deeper than just my skin - it had my soul in its grasp - was the most important purpose in my life.    
That still didn’t stop my old friends from caressing at the surface, probing to see if I’d would come back to life. A strong hand slammed down on the locker next to me, sending a ringing in my ears and my carefully stacked books to clatter the floor. Sighing, I stilled the rattling open door of my locker.
 “You coming to cheer me on tonight Y/N?” Jason Carver. His overpowering stench of expensive cologne and sweat after basketball practise assaulted my senses, invading my body and mind. I took an involuntary step back and crinkled my nose.
“Just like every other Friday you’ve asked me Jason, no. For the last time no.” His nonchalant laugh insulted the seriousness of my tone, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something lurking there.
“Come on, I know your squad misses you.” His voice was whiny as he reached behind my head to bring the end of my ponytail over my shoulder, the brush of his fingers sent a chill up my spine as he fiddled with the green ribbon tied there. I could feel eyes pouring into my back, but when I spun away from Jason, slamming my locker shut, sending a fresh breeze over the both of us, there was no one I could see watching me. 
“I’m going to be late for Mr Mundy.” I called as an afterthought, barely glancing back at a confused Jason still standing by my locker, not wanting to have him seek me out later. I hadn’t heard the second bell ring while he cornered me, too preoccupied with the sickening feeling that had begun in my stomach when Jason’s blue eyes bored into mine and now settled in the low pits of my frame as I tore through the empty corridors. I paused at the edge of Mr Mundy’s classroom door to fix my hair back into place when I got a glimpse of my reflection in the window. My breath hitched in my throat as a prickly heat spread out across my body. She smiled back at me with lips that were trembling on my own face.
“Y/N” She drawled, “I’m still here, waiting.” Black lines appeared on my neck, crawling up my face. My head swam as I hung my head down, ripping my eyes away from the stranger in the window. No, not a stranger echoed in my mind, the same black lines started to flourish from my fingertips, spreading up my forearms. 
Something hard but fleshy slammed into my back, bringing me out of my nightmare. Tommy H spun around to grin at me holding his hands up in an apologetic way as he walked backwards into the class. My head snapped back up to the window, but it was my own eyes, glassy with fresh tears that stared back at me. I quickly followed suit after Tommy, hoping to slip in undetected. Fortunately, Mr Mundy was preoccupied with reprimanding Carol over some violation or another as I hastily found my seat in the third row. I shoved my bag under the desk and flipped to an empty page in my notebook, a strong breeze blowing through the open windows helped even my breathing as I focused on the coolness of the air. I groaned as I felt the warm body on my left shift in my direction. With everything that had happened that morning I hadn’t let myself think about this class. Mr Mundy had been out sick for the first two days of the week, so it was actually the first class of senior year, and like the past three years of high school in calculus, I was situated in my regular seat with some quiet band geek on my right side and – 
“Miss Y/N,” He cleared his throat leaning forward “You uh –“ 
“Shut it Munson, you’d think since it was you’re third year trying to pass high school you would at least bring a pencil, regardless – not my issue.” I snapped, crossing my legs and angling my body away from Edward Munson, Hawkins Highs very own organically grown Metal head. 
As much I appreciated Mr Mundy’s teaching style, i wasn’t a fan of his inability to deal with change, hence why – after clearly pissing off some high power from above– I ended up sitting next to Eddie on an iron clad seating chart. No amount of begging and bargaining with the Calculus teacher got me anywhere
‘The best and the worst students in the class, you might rub off on him Y/N.’ Mr Mundy then just winked, laughed and snatched his brief case up on his way out before I had a chance to respond. But if he thought for one second that I was going to tutor or be some sort of good role model, then Mr Mundy wasn’t as smart as he thought he was, or I just was as stubborn as I thought I was. Eddie was a lost cause, for the most part of our four years of school, I’d managed to avoid and ignore the metal head. We’d probably said about five sentences to each other and that was only because of partnered projects we were forced to share. Even so, I swore his sole purpose on earth was to piss me off and he seemed determined to live up to the title or die trying. 
The way he’d twist the rings that adorned almost all of his knuckles, so they’d catch the sunlight and blind me, or how he’d bang a couple of pencils on his desk pretending to play a fake drum set while humming a song I didn’t know under his breath. The scratching of his pencil against his desk piercing through my concertation as he doodled away, completing ignoring whatever important material Mr Mundy would be teaching. Most infuriating of all though was the fresh smell of weed that would hit me like a rock as he sauntered past my desk, arriving late to class because he was busy smoking. More infuriating now, as it was what I used to be able to sleep through the night. Since the fire I hadn't one night where I didn't wake screaming or locked in a frozen cage of terror.
The earthy smell, even diluted by Eddie's cologne, sent a stab of wanting through my core, not a feeling I wanted to associate with Eddie. 
A wolf whistle erupted behind me and I slowly turned to see Tommy and some cronies eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat. 
“Nice show Y/N” They chuckled loudly, ensuring everyone could hear them, Mr Mundy started to make his way over to the commotion. I scowled at the group of boys confused, until realisation dawned on my face.
Chapter Two
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I hope you enjoyed the first chapter & my very first post! If you would like to be added to my Eddie tag list, let me know! :) Enjoy Sunflowers - P. x
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Copyright © 2022 by P.McCann
All rights reserved.
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utilitycaster · 1 month
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because I've seen this again: I think it's entirely possible that, for a small group of people, the fact that there is not a fan art reel is why they are less connected to the story of C3, but setting aside this is not remotely my experience, there have always been fans who kept up or binged the show via the podcast or VOD and skipped the art reel. Even when I watched C2 live I mostly tuned in only a few minutes in advance and barely paid attention to the art reel. Also like. Novels have been around a really long time. Oral traditions of storytelling have been around longer. Even the first radio drama was over a century ago. The ability to find hundreds of pieces of fan art and fanfiction without getting out of bed is less than 30 years old. I feel like saying "Skill Issue" undersells how much of a problem not having a visual component to a fictional work - let alone not having fan art spoonfed directly to you instead of you having to go to the official fan art gallery or following a tag - isn't. For basically everyone else on earth.
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mar3ggiata · 2 months
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professional help, c2. preview
simon riley x original character.
abstract: this is Jude, this is a little bit of information about me since you care so much, I don't even know you… anyway yes, I really like being mysterious, what you gonna do about it, punch me in the face? I'm not even real, grow the fuck up. see ya.
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trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, eating disorders, depression.
song to listen to when reading this: *The Chain*, Fleetwood Mac.
Sometimes, she just fucking hated her life. She supposed it was normal like that, it happened to everyone to absolutely fucking despise their lives, no? She wakes at the same hour everyday, does her makeup. Not too much, just enough so she looked like she had slept the night before. She conceals her identity under eyeliner and blush. She looks like a doll. She likes her makeup, she's quite good at it. She plays with her hairstyles, sometimes a bun, sometimes braids, sometimes loose with a headband, depending on the mood. She walks her dog and cleans his poop.
She always comes in dressed in dark colours, dark red, dark blue or black. She has 10 male patients and 8 female soldiers. Some of them are combat medics, some snipers. Demolition experts. She works till lunch time, eats alone, sometimes skips lunch just to make her body feel something and indulge in disordered eating, then goes outside to smoke and comes back in. After the afternoon sessions, she sometimes has groups together for some group therapy.
She didn't work for the entirety of 2022. She had an accident with one of the patients, classified information. She survived, but man was it hard to live after that day... Spent time with her dog, visited a friend in San Francisco, taught ballet at the local dance school. Price and Laswell felt so guilty they continued to pay her even if she wasn't working. Why she decided to come back she really didn't know. She thinks the truth is she likes helping people, makes her feel good. She liked crazy stories and she had a reputation at the base, she was starting to be respected. She craved that. And it really started to bore her, the routine. Until Arash.
She was used to raising her voice and presenting herself as stoic and cold. She knew perfectly how to be violence. She noticed a familiar face once she opened the door of the briefing room. A familiar face mask. The skull guy, she had seen him before. Was he the guy… She could't get distracted. Her little mission went smoothly. She always knew Price liked her and feared her at the same time, and when it came to his little soldier boys, she really didn't care what they thought about her. The guy from the day of her accident even spoke to her. Poor thing. She was really amused no one told him about the reason why she didn't want to go home alone. He did really good that night, she remembers him well. He didn't try to speak too much, he sounded gentle. A gentle giant. Unfortunately for him, no one was gonna tell him about that day. When she left the room, she went straight home. She doubted someone would ever contact her again about the situation, they would handle it themselves, and probably very badly.
notes: full thing on sunday!! let me know what you think <3
love, mare.
taglist:
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angelsndragons · 2 years
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so episode 31, really the last three or four episodes, honestly, crystalized a lot of what i have been working on behind the scenes when it comes to the hells so let’s talk. warning: as always, this a long post.
because the thing is, the thing is, bells’ hells have been a control party almost from the word go. control parties, for those who don’t know, build themselves to go around obstacles and find new, different win conditions for encounters. control parties have a million different ways to handle these objectives. they can avoid combat altogether via stealth, charisma checks, or other pointed party actions. they can, as the crownkeepers did with the crocodile, find a creative way to neutralize an encounter. this doesn’t just apply to combat, by the by. social encounters provide ample opportunity for a control party to flex their muscles and steer their targets towards the party’s objectives. the haunting of the moon tower is a perfect example. they tend to be more creative and aware of their environments and the people within them than their glass cannon and cockroach counterparts. they have to be. you can’t redefine victory conditions without that awareness or creativity. control parties are just willing to try new things in ways that other parties can’t (glass cannons tend to be built for just damage) or won’t (cockroaches prefer optimizing the action economy).
the hells are several different control modes smushed together into some semblance of a balanced party that can switch on a dime and adapt. they can playfully booby-trap their way through a museum job then roast their opponents alive before flipping back to friendly assistance once the threat has been neutralized and they’ve won. the hells are much more interested in gathering and using information than their c1 or c2 counterparts; they’re also much better at extracting it. whether it’s fearne and orym scouting out enemy bases or numbers, fcg and imogen running roughshod over other people’s minds to find it or being irresistible enough that information is just handed to them, or chet, laudna, and ashton scaring the information out of opponents, all of them have some way of pulling information together (using it is still a skill the group is working on but they’re getting better). in combat, laudna and imogen easily cycle between environmental control/support (think imogen’s hunger of hadar reskin and laudna’s form of dread) and big damage numbers, chet literally has two modes he can fight in, while ashton and orym have a number of ways to control enemy movement and attacks.
and the thing about last episode and this most recent string is how the cast has built characterization into and from the mechanics and abilities. the hells are a control party, and they all have control issues. every last one of them.
ashton - traumatic brain injury that left them their unreliable at best memory, sometimes unable to rein in their impulses, and a rage they’ve only recently learned to channel and use, a man who wants very clearly defined roles and relationships (and oh boy it says something that ashton is the one who best knows their limitations and has gotten used to living with this lack of control).
chetney - werewolf who has lost control of the beast once that we know of. has issues with authority and people having control over his creations and livelihood.
fcg - has been denied autonomy and personhood for much of their existence, can snap to murderbot mode when sufficiently stressed with no memory of what occurred.
fearne - oh fearne, she has issues with cages and how things need to be free but also how she collects the things and people she cares about (she’d never keep them but at the same time...). after all, if she collects them, well, she can’t be left again, right.
imogen - has to maintain a stubborn, rigid control over her feelings, thoughts, and powers at all times or else something could explode. literally, in some cases. or worse, she’ll be subjected to every passing, awful thought of every person around her and who wants that, really?
laudna - a potential puppet on delilah briarwood’s strings. her control issues stem from her (pretty justified given her life) fear that everyone will leave her, that she’s not worthy enough for people to remain by her side. if she just controls herself and finds the one thing that others want, they’ll stay, they have to, right?
orym - like imogen, orym’s holding himself together by the skin of his teeth sometimes. he’s trying to control situations and fights around him so that this time, maybe, hopefully, his loved ones won’t be hurt, never mind if he gets hurt in the process.
part of what fascinates me so in the last several episodes is how out of control the hells have felt and the catalysts for that. yu, who manipulates and worms their way around obstacles and uses others and changes the win conditions and gets what they want in the end, a dark mirror of the hells’ own tactics turned on them. ira, who has controlled and manipulated and wiped out any good intention fearne’s parents had, right down to smearing away their memories and emotions. delilah, who gaslights, manipulates, and abuses, whom they cannot escape without leaving one of their own to her “tender” care. fcg, who weaponized what little actual vulnerability this party has been able to let itself feel.
so strap yourselves in, folks, we’re in for a long haul here.
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masterqwertster · 10 months
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#31. "You came back for me" from the vague angst meme. For Ashton, naturally. ❤
Prompt Yeah. Figured someone would ask that one for Ashton "I have abandonment issues" Greymoore 😋 I'm gonna take this to the C2 Class Swap Resurrection, because I've been thinking about it on and off since I came up with it. 31 "You came back for me."
They all wait with baited breath after the offerings are made to see if Pike's resurrection spell will take.
Well, those of them that breathe. Fresh Cut Grass doesn't, and it's rather debatable if Laudna needs to or not with as far between breaths as she'll go at times.
Still, the feeling is there.
One second. Two sec-
Ashton's glass explodes with light and color as he gasps in a new breath, body bowing with the force of restored life. And everyone in the room can feel reality bend just the slightest bit from what the members of Bells Hells recognize as Ashton's strange and unique brand of magic.
That's as long as FCG waits to scoot forward to hover over Ashton's head so they can see a friend when they first open their eyes again. It's only a moment of waiting, watching their nostrils flare, catching their chest rise and fall out of the corner of his vision, alive alive alive, before Ashton's eyes flutter open.
"...Hey, Letters," Ashton softly says, voice raw from disuse in death.
"S-smiley day to ya, Ashton," Fresh Cut Grass replies, voice quavering with emotion. "I'm real glad you're back with us. Real glad."
Ashton hums in agreement as he sits up with a grunt. "Me too-"
He freezes, taking in that it's not just Fresh Cut Grass here. It's all of Bells Hells, standing around some magic circle he's in the middle of in what looks like a living room with happy smiles aimed at him. Maybe even for him.
And it seems that sitting up and getting eyes on them is all the waiting the rest of the Hells are willing to do, as Ashton finds himself buried under a pile of bodies all hugging him. Finds his ears filled with overlapping voices calling his name, expressing joy at his presence.
It's a lot.
A lot of good that Ashton never expected to have in their life, not after The Fall. They never expected to have people again, a family to call their own. Not when they'd been left behind again and again. They'd been shown how broken, how unwanted they are time after time. Then these chucklefucks fucking wormed their way into Ashton's life and just... didn't leave. And they didn't let him leave either. They fucking chased down his broken pieces, put him back together. They hadn't flinched, hadn't pulled away from what he was and is. How-? Why-?
What the fuck is up with these people?
"Oh! Don't cry! Is it too much? We can back off. Everyone-"
Ashton doesn't let them pull away. Instead he lets those overwhelming feelings fuel his tired body to shift and expand so he can hug all of his people at once. Hold them close.
Their laughing admonishments as he squeezes them tighter brings a pleased rumble out of his chest. Fuck, it's been so long since Ashton's had this.
What a fucking time to be alive.
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ludinusdaleth · 23 days
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I'm half hoping the Hells run into some devout kryn, because it'd be interesting to see them deal with the parallels with the predathos followers of "all the gods are shit except this thing" and the doomsday goal where they could destroy the planet like mercer pointed out. Not to mention their method of lite immortality and reincarnation into people's children running against Ludinus's deal.
talking about the luxon is hard because my thoughts on it are wreathed in layers of meta like nothin else.... let's just say first off we're definitely getting that pov, as the kryn have aeor encircled (as we know from both the c2 aeor arc/frida & deanna during the c3 molaesmyr arc), and the discovery of ashton would be.... heresy? ascension? to them.
i think the luxon, in all its parralels to predathos and its domain of space & time, is kind of.... the answer to all this? the kryn are incorrect in their belief that the luxon was discovered by them, but i dont think theyre wrong about it in other ways. frankly i, someone who people think is a god hater for my analysis of the pantheon's actions, trust it. it has been used & abused throughout history whilst not even fully formed. where the pantheon & betrayers have had entire lives to make choices the luxon is a fetus who has been able to make none. as we understand it, it came to exandria because it was lonely and hungry to learn, to experience, to feel. it allegedly started life on exandria as folk worry predathos will end it. i presently think predathos & the luxon are both ancient, cosmic entities of higher power than the exandrian gods; one has lived and been beaten like an animal. one has seen eons of mortal history through an egg sac lens.
i think the kryn they can be extreme in how they wish others to join their faith, and i dont know how much of that counts as (for lack of a very non christian word) evangelizing; though ill say notably they ask others and try to win faith through mighty feats, over bulldozing & building temples with brute strength as vasselheim does. and frankly, while both wish for their cosmic entity to be free, the kryn certainly arent on the vanguard's levels; they want to understand the luxon and nurture it til it's ready to Become. the vanguard wishes for predathos to Wake and will rend the universe apart to watch it Devour. i think it is worth noting how beaten xhorhas is by wynandir; the society headed by a man who wants predathos freed does not sympathize with the luxon but despises it for being seen as a person and abuses it himself. ludinus, i think, sees predathos as a caged beast he can use or at least watch burn his worst enemies, and the luxon as a younger kind of it to force into service. the kryn see the luxon as a person-to-be like them. and maybe thats the key. understanding that even this galactic entity should feel care & grief & love right beside mortals. as if it's their child, even if they're by all means a parent to every living thing. as if it's one of Us. i think the real question i have isnt necessarily about the kryn parralels to the vanguard now, but rather the parralels in how they treat predathos when they learn of it; will they see it as alive and as worthy of care as the luxon? as well as the parralels of what actions the luxon will take compared to predathos; because i think, as predathos rages, the luxon will choose love.
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vethbrenatto · 1 year
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favorite cr c3 character?
For a while it was pretty solidly Ashton, but now I'd say I'm evenly split between Ashton, Chetney, and Fearne.
(Apologies for long ass answer)
Ashton is just such a fascinating character, I've been drawn to them since the beginning. Like many Taliesin characters, they have a superiority complex, or at least a sense that they have a better understanding of the world than others, and yet, they also show true compassion and care for their allies. I think the Laudna/Ashton conversation from last Thursday is a top 5 moment from this campaign so far for me, and that's mostly due to Ashton. The way that Taliesin portrayed it in Ashton being completely real with Laudna but only under the caveat of being drunk and letting their raw emotions shine through. And then to cover it up with "Oh, I don't remember, I was drunk" and have Laudna shut it down. I'm fascinated by some of their statements "I know loneliness you don't, I know the truth of people that none of you do." Not statements that I think are true, but statements I deeply want to understand more from their perspective.
Chetney is very within the mold of characters I tend to like. I'm drawn to comic relief characters that have more depth than they appear to at the surface (Grog & The Gnomes in C1, Veth in C2). Maybe this character wasn't intended to be that deep at its inception but became that way via roleplay and organic growth through the campaign, ala a Scanlan. I think Travis plays Chet in a wonderfully comedic way, while also never letting us doubt that they're not just there to be the haha funny grandpa. I also love someone finally playing something different on the age spectrum. D&D races can literally live hundreds of years- why is every adventurer in their 20s-30s (or at least in the equivalent of that for their race like the gnomes in C1)? Much like Veth, I enjoy the ability to more deeply analyze and look into a character that much of the fandom my pigeonhole into a small box or being "just one thing."
Fearne is a delight for me because truly, it just shows that Ashley Johnson Has The Range. Pike was looks like cinnamon roll, could kill you. Yasha was looks like she could kill you, is a cinnamon roll. Fearne is sort of another looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you but in a COMPLETELY different way than Pike. I have been ITCHING for someone to play Fey and Ashley is tackling it so beautifully. The sideways morality, the impulsiveness. That is a HARD thing to pull off as a player, it's taking your better instincts of "No, that's not smart, that's a bad idea" and going "My character would do this, regardless of potential consequences." While I'm not that attached to Orym, I think Fearne's relationship with Orym is fascinating. Because of their EXU connection, she so clearly has a fondness and attachment to him that exceeds her connection with anyone else in the group and I think it's with an intensity that most others can't match. If push comes to shove, I feel she would prioritize him not just over everyone, but in spite of everyone- I think in connection to her Fey-ness, there's this sense of "This is my person" that goes above and beyond others who also have a person. It's why in the Laudna/Orym res, regardless of the coin flip (which is not me saying I think Ashley cheated it), I was confident Orym would be res-ed. It's why on Thursday despite her care and hesitancy to go up against Imogen, when Orym asks, "Are you with me?" The no hesitation answer is "Always." It's intense in a way that I don't even think is reciprocated- Orym of course loves and prioritizes her, but I think there's an intensity in the way that Fearne cares about Orym that's unmatched and that to me is fascinating. A very, who and how many would you throw in harm's way to save this one person situation.
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Cerenysus:
We begin in the Autumn Ring, with Irina’s mind poisoned by the corruption on the ritual by her sister, Heradecia.
She summons living spells and tries to turn Fia into a book. Fia finally uses the time stop scroll and uses it to buff herself to hell. Zirk invisibly fires from behind Irina. Hank stays consistent. Heradecia teleports out.
We then find the Hexbuds, approaching the scorched grove where they can find her surrogate mother. They share an intense closed-loop hug, and turn to face her. Jabari stays back. Tarragon gets close. Corbeaux gets trapped by bony hands. They move around the space, taking damage for each other and attempting to stop her spells. 3 soldiers, capable of fighting like 300. The Hexblood Centurions.
Back in Autumn, Hank goes down because he’s the only one visible. Irina strikes while he’s down, taking a death save. And, as @theatricuddles sent me in an ask, Fia only turns to strike Irina after that moment.
After many rounds of battle, Irina is finally unconscious, thanks to a soft finish by Fia. She is held in Fia’s arms, as Zirk prepares to take off the crown. Fia says, "Foolish tenderness, but I'm going to cast Sanctuary on Irina". (thanks to @theatricuddles for the quote reminder). In the words of Murph, “we’re leaving it up to a Caldwell roll.” No one stays sitting in the two-dio. Zirk comes close. Makes a deal with a winter fairy. Fails again. Dies. At some point, Lou Wilson stands up from the table and puts his head against a closet.
Jabari is put under a banishment spell, and Tarragon and Corbeaux have a difficult time taking her on just the two of them. Jabari realizes he’s in a bad place when the toads are wet, and works hard to get himself out.
Henry is given a chance to get the crown. Fia tells him not to. She sees what protecting Irina has cost her and cannot let it continue. “You were my dream for so fucking long and I. I’m going to miss you so much.” Henry refuses. He takes the risk. He gets the crown. Zirk is revivified by Fia. Irina, back in control of herself, teleports them to her sister.
Hank gets some hits on Heradecia. Corbeaux nearly goes down, and is saved by Tarragon’s Death Ward. Jabari screamed “let’s kill her” upon his return, and is able to do just that, trisecting her.
The Hexbuds return to Outerborough. Jabari becomes Chancellor. The Hexbloods become his cabinet. They have a ritual to atone their mother.
The Third Mates assign Bukvar to sort the souls and make sure no one gets stuck waiting, as souls had been for years. Hank gets his divorce. Zirk works harder on the all-cure. They get their boat, and head to sea. Irina and Fia make it official.
One Big Bed:
The beginning is so soft and beautiful. Carrying Balnor back to the ship to rest after the Raise Dead. Budler framing Hardwon’s tasteful nude drawings and hanging them in the captain’s quarters. Lucanus putting the bubble back up around Gladeholm, and Moonshine sniffing out his magic. Moonshine making sure to help people because she doesn’t know how else to deal with everything. The apology tour by everyone who had attacked the Boobs while they were corrupted. Cobb’s apology.
Bev’s dad using Balnor as a speakerphone in the night to talk to Bev and bless his sword so he could smite with necrotic damage. Bev IV also taking time to heal Balnor while he was in there, making sure the resurrection aftermath was smoother for him. Calling Balnor Bev’s stepdad.
Moonshine and Meemaw heading back to the Crick. Seeing it can be beautiful even in the aftermath of a cataclysm. Finding the bullywugs in the GrandMaw Tree. “How long do half-elves live?” and the whole conversation that follows. “I guess, if I’m being honest, I just don’t know what it’s gonna be like to know Bahumia without Hardwon Surefoot. And there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to find out what that feels like.” Meemaw telling Moonshine to go catch nannerflies so she could zealous trance, allowing her to get a brief moment of childhood.
Jaina and Nerman trying to kidnap Hardwon for a party, and Hardwon resisting them too hard. McGannis naming him king for a day, and giving him a traditional dwarven send-off.
The Green Teens insisting on a jamboreen in a year. Deciding to go prank Denny. Failing horribly. The bullywug scuba suits as disguises. Nearly killing Denny by throwing him out a window.
Moonshine casting animal shapes on the whole party. All the dwarves wanting to be ducks. Jaina approaching Hardwon to make sure it was cool if she romanced Moonshine. The very suspicious way he said nothing was going on between them. “That’s one of the reasons why I fucking worship her”. Finally getting to have a moment himself with a suspiciously recognizable dwarf.
Luna finding Bev when she thought he was in trouble. Noting that Hardwon and Moonshine were “busy”. “Are they in danger?!?” “How old are you?”. Finding out where Thiala is headed.
Ending the night, all together again, in One Big Bed.
Moonshine waking up to cast spells on everyone. The send off they all tried to avoid. The smiles fading as soon as they were out of sight from the general population. Ready for war.
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odusseus-xvi · 1 year
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I'm not the type to willingly look at critics of stuff I like. Mainly cause it makes me sad. But I've seen some recently about c3, and I have to admit there are some valid points... But a lot of them just makes me confused.
For exemple one that comes up a lot : There is too much/not enough stakes.
Both are utilized a lot. 10/20 episodes back people kept saying the campaign was boring and "there is no stakes, and no overall goals, and nothing to look towards" etc... Now I see a lot of "There is too much stakes, I don't understand what's happening, It's too stressful, Why is there stakes that early" etc...
WHAT DO YOU WANT ? Like seriously, I'm not even mad at those people just... confused. They also keep comparing those aspects to C2 for some reason (because c2 is absolutely perfect of course and was cr's peak and all that bullshit) Don't get me wrong, I loved both the previous campaigns, but like, they had stakes too. The Chroma attack, Vecna, Lorenzo kidnapping half the party and killing one member permanently very early in the campaign, The Angels of Iron trying to f* release Tharizdun or help spread it's chaos, Cognouza and I can probably keep going.
Then there is : "Bells Hells don't talk about there problems like M9 did, They are all so open to each other already I don't understand. They feel unorganic."
Ok. Let's look at something.
Goals of the M9 at the start of c2 :
All (exception of Fjord) : I'm fleeing from things and people, I need to survive and make money. I don't know who I can trust, but I probably will have more chances if I accept some help.
It make sense for them to be wary of each other, and to open up later. They don't have an urgency, a goal that makes them go forward, not yet.
Goals of BH at the start of c3 :
Orym (Dorian and Ferane follows) : Set on a quest to uncover what happened to his home and husband, searching for Oshad Breshio.
Imogen (Laudna follows) : Get to the starpoint conservatory to undestand her (and laudna's) powers.
Ashton : Clear their debts. Understand what happened this day.
FCG : Uncover what happened to their old party.
Chetney : Finding people to help him controls his powers.
They are all tangled up in misteries the want to untangle. They want to understand their lives, why they are here right now. They really quickly realise they were all traumatized in some way by things like that, AND that each of their misteries are probably more dangerous and out of their league that they anticipated ; They both realize they are gonna need help AND understands the others situation very early on. They have reasons to keep going and walking without thinking too much about what to do next. Well shit. When you think about it... It also makes sense.
Last point. This made me laugh more than the others. It was two comments under the same critic : It went a bit like this.
1st "I fully agree. I think they should talk more. They don't open up enough, and too much is happening."
2nd " I agree, They talk way too much, I want things to advance. Even back in c1 they had this problem. I skipped all the roleplay parts to get to the combat and big events." (like wtf bud)
Finally this is just to say I absolutely think that critics is necessary to a healthy fandom, and I don't mind that. Not only that but there is also something i can respect about them, even the dumb ones ; it seems more and more realise and admits, that this is fully subjective ; That they don't like all of it, but that they are also part of the problem themselves. I respect that, and I'm happy to see more and more realise it instead of outright saying it's just "bad and terrible, and not what it was".
Honeslty, personally, as long as the cast is having fun at the table, I am too.
(sorry if there are some mistakes in there I am both a fast typer and a non native english speaker)
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sparring-spirals · 1 year
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you know i just had this thought, cause i saw your posts about feeling a little iffy with the whole mixing c2 and c3 characters thing, and like, if you’re looking from the standpoint of critical role as a show, and the cast as storytellers, then yeah there’s kinda this worry about past campaigns and character arcs overshadowing the current ones
but
but if you look from the viewpoint of a group of friends playing dnd, having your old characters show up in your current game and team up with the new party is just like, the coolest thing ever, no questions asked
Oh yeah, 100%! The cameo/crossover thing is exciting and lovely as is, and definitely really fucking fun for them. and us! Shared universes and crossover AU's/episodes and etc are popular for a reason!
okay, this answer got out of hand. hopefully it makes sense. my thinking is something like- yeah! bringing in caleb and beau and other cross campaign cameos and big shared universes like this is a perfectly reasonable kind of storytelling and very exciting. That said- yes, the broader story implications, possibilities, potential impacts, focus on Bells and the space for their arcs, etc, I have personal reservations on. And part of that is also tied to shared universe, MCU crossover style storytelling/worldbuilding not really being my cup of tea.
But that's not necessarily like, an indictment of what the cast chose to do or even an indictment of people (me, im people) enjoying the actual crossover encounters. Because they're fun! Exciting! Its cool to see characters you love and watched in a unique, fleshed out context collide with completely different characters who you love in a unique context. I bet this goes threefold for the cast, getting to see their characters alive ans breathing in the world, acting on their own. The point of crossovers and cameos is for this kind of joy! There's no real use to me pretending I'm not thrilled by their presence, or to not wonder about their wellbeing in past years or what other familiar faces are doing in the meantime.
The flipside is. Yes. Broader storytelling implications and concerns. That in the context of the Bell's Hells story, I want to be careful to still treat them as the main characters of this campaign, with the real estate and weight that deserves. Everything else about overshadowing and etc aside. Caleb and Beau and everyone else in the Mighty Nein had their campaign, and a wrap up and an epilogue, and my own soppy feelings about that aside, that is important. This campaign is the Bell's Hells, its theirs, and about their stories, and them. The M9 are, now, NPC's- and I have a lot of thoughts about how that is its own good ending, its about knowing when stories should be closed while letting the characters live on beyond them- but that should be its own meta fuck goddammit. And that's important. Its very important to me that I am, above all else, treating the Bell's Hells story as theirs.
The most direct example I can give, I think, is that before they intervened, I was somewhat okay with the Bell's Hells failing in some sense, Ludinus getting away with some part of his plan. Knowing that Beauregard and Caleb are involved brings up a specific feeling of wanting them to succeed, thinking about things they have waiting at home, the campaign that already went by and the epilogues I had already promised them in my head.
But- this is not their campaign, and this is not soley their issue anymore either. If I really handle them as NPC's, if I can decouple the thought of Ludinus as their behemoth to tackle, and think again about this issue in context of Bell's Hells, disastrous and loving and 50% unreliable with a moon over their shoulders- the perspective on the situation and what I want out of it and them and everything- shifts. And it's important to me I take the time to do that, as much as I love the empire sibs and am thinking fondly about their careers and loves and hopes.
but none of that is mutually exclusive with me making little heart eyes at the two of them and reblogging all the art of that scene. :)
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bcrichsweetheart · 9 months
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Dream Weaver - Part 1
Prompt: Dreams are Soulmate's Memories (C2) @eddiemunsonbingo Summary: Eddie begins to get a reoccurring dream, and Wayne advises him of an old bit of folklore he heard once. That some dreams could be the memories of your soulmate. Ever the detective, a young Eddie Munson, sets to documenting these dreams in hopes of gathering the clues of who his soulmate might be. Notes: I wanted this to be a visual as well as just text so below the standard fic text you'll see Eddie's actual diary entries, if you like that sort of thing :) But this is Eddie's diary so expect the language to be less than polite and the doodles may be a little immature let's say 😂 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dreaming is free.
Or at least that's what Debbie Harry sings.
You're my official new Dream Diary! Well, first of any diary, really. Nabbed you out of the lost & found when I was skipping class.
You're kinda girly, but you were free, and being girly aint all that bad. That's all patriarchal bullshit, anyway!
Never thought I'd need one of these, but I figure maybe these weird dreams are worth tracking, just in case I do have one. A SOULMATE!!! Christ, that's terrifying!
I was having trouble sleeping, and then I started getting these weird ass dreams. Not like weird-cool, like after too much cheese, chocolate or weed (He’s drawn a picture of a joint here), but like weird, as in they were really fucking normal. I mean normal, like TV family normal, like the Brady bunch, but way less people, not like reality normal.
Well, at least at first. Sometimes they aren't so nice. Sometimes they reminded me of living with my folks, and that FUCKING SUCKED!
Anyway, I told the font of knowledge that is Wayne about these weird dreams and at first, he was like, don't worry about it, but then he told me this bit of folklore and it was something like your dreams are the memories of your soulmate, so I thought I'd start writing them down. Like campaign clues to figure out who it might be? Unless one of their memories is looking in a mirror, I'm gonna need all the clues I can get!
So far, I think that I'm like a little kid, and there are a few people that show up. One is a man who looks real fancy, probably loaded. I guess he’s the Dad? He’s mostly always in a shirt and tie, sometimes one of those Dad polo shirts that he probably wears to golf with his yuppie friends. Well, bad fashion aside, proves one thing at least, being richer wouldn’t have got me a better Dad because the guy is a grade-A star fucking asshole! He’s always holding some object in his hand, a broken picture frame, a Barbie, a book, a glass of whiskey, shoving it towards my face and yelling like I just pissed in his cereal or something. WHAT A DICK! I can feel my soulmate wants to cry but is holding it in. I’m not sure how. Maybe she’s small for her age? The Dad guy is at least 2 feet taller than them. No way someone with that good a life would shout at a kid that way, right? A shitty dad is a pretty sad thing to have in common, but at least it's something because it’s the only thing so far. 
There is a woman in a uniform with an apron, she's nice, and she gives us cookies on the sly, and when the Dad ogre has finished shouting at us, she’s normally the one who turns up just before I wake up.
The last person, I don't know if she’s the Mom or a piano teacher, but she’s way too good-looking to be either. She looks like a movie star and dresses like one too. Velvet Looks like Faye Dunaway in Chinatown, but her eyes slope down, like when she isn’t smiling, they always look sad. But my god, when she smiles and tells me I played something right, I feel like my heart could burst right out of my chest and explode into a million cartoon bluebirds and butterflies or some shit like that. I don't think I've felt that way about anything except my guitar and when a cheerleader smiled at me one time accidentally. Shit what if my soulmate is a cheerleader? Most of them are rich girls, right?
Anyway, that's what I have for now. Until next time Double-D
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utilitycaster · 3 months
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I will say the current discourse becomes a lot funnier when you remember that Imogen suggested to and in front of Laudna (she did it more than once!) potentially siding the Vanguard AFTER one of them murdered her in cold blood just to get a rise out of Imogen -
- and *somehow* that hasn’t had the lasting impact on fandom that Orym fucking nodding at Laudna as she kills someone who just tried to murder them has?
Truly, bowlgate could *never*.
Hey anon,
Honestly while this is all very speculative and based on the relatively small cross-section of the fandom I see, as a person who will not touch Reddit and barely checks Twitter, the Orym and Laudna stuff feels cut from the same cloth as Bowlgate.
For reasons I cannot accurately pinpoint, though I have my theories, since I started watching and joined the fandom with the start of C2 there seem to have been people - maybe the same people, maybe there's been turnover - who have decided any interaction Marisha and Liam's characters have that isn't clearly entirely amicable (and some that are) is in fact an act of hostility. This has always baffled me, given that in Campaigns 1 and 2 they played characters who are particularly close, and that in Campaign 3 Liam's character is very much in homage to Keyleth. Insofarasmuch as I know the lives of the cast (ie, I don't), they seem to be extremely good friends, and from what I see at the table they have remarkably similar styles, a shared love of character conflict, and excellent chemistry (platonic or romantic). It has never made sense to me how intensely some people pit them against each other, either as Beau and Caleb or as Laudna and Orym, particularly when Marisha and Liam have never seemed to have even an ounce of rancor towards each other.
It feels very much born out of the "the only way to be a good character (or fan) is to be entirely deferential to my personal favorite character" mentality, and I've always found that mentality to be...deeply sad, honestly. I've said before that it baffles me that people watch a show with an ensemble cast of 7 players and act repulsed and offended when it's not a solo act. And for a fandom for a show where we just, demonstrably, treated a 3.5 hour episode as "unexpectedly short?" That is a huge amount of time to sink into something where you are miserable every minute that Laudna, or Marisha (or whoever your favorite character or actor is) isn't in the spotlight and leading the charge and given the royal treatment - let alone to watch CR with what appears to be an assumption that nearly everyone else at the table is actively out to undermine your favorite actor. That sounds exhausting and painful, and once I started thinking about that it made much more sense how vile and bitter these comments about an extremely mild choice from Liam and Orym is; because it's not really about Orym. It's about the nature of the show itself, which has always been the case and is unlikely to change. It might be other long-untended resentments as well. I'm reminded, tangentially, of how when I was frustrated with FCG as a character early on, I'd occasionally get people piling on in my inbox for utterly unrelated criticisms not of FCG but of Sam as a player that I found really offputting and which often made me pretty uncomfortable.
I do wonder if these people are not just upset that Orym (and Liam) are simply present; but if they are also frustrated with other things - perhaps with the campaign generally, or perhaps with Laudna herself - that they are afraid to admit they feel given how much they have staked their identity on their fandom preferences. Which again, sounds terribly lonely and draining and something to be pitied, irritating as it is for the rest of us.
Anyway, I think the best thing for everyone in the fandom not trapped in that particular mire of bad faith, cognitive dissonance, and curdled resentment to do is move on. I actually found it really heartening how many people on my post about Laudna's anger at Orym being entirely about the power from the siphon and nothing personal to Orym were like "until I saw this post it did not even occur to me that there was another interpretation of this scene." I certainly haven't been as good about this as I'd like to be, but I've really been trying as of late to approach the above paranoid reading mentality by depriving it of oxygen. In addition to the interesting conflicts brewing, there's been some great lore drops as of late. How about that portal?
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pacoslimee · 1 year
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My General Fears About the Mighty Nein Animated Series
Amazon Prime announced that an animated adaptation of Critical Role’s second campaign: The Mighty Nein is being made. Awesome! Here’s why I am incredibly nervous in an easy to understand format: A List (of only a couple points but lists are cool)! 1: This is the one that matters the least but I fear that the critical (pun not intended) response won’t be as strong as the reception for the Legend of Vox Machina. Not because of any fault of the show itself but rather I’m nervous that critics will watch the show and feel like it is too similar to VM. This is just a thing that happens when media properties start to expand and Critters might disagree but ultimately it is a concern that critical word of mouth might negatively impact the show. But as I said at the beginning this is the one I’m least nervous about because I think as long as the show is good and faithful to the campaign fans will be happy. Which brings us to...
2. I fear that deviations from the campaign will upset fans of the original streams. While campaign 1 started this whole revolution I think it is fair to say campaign 2 is what ignited the worldwide phenomenon that is Critical Role. And as such in my experience Campaign 2 fans are like, EXTRA defensive of it. When I was first getting in to CR watching C1 I noticed there were episodes in which there was a lot of downtime. I asked around to see if there were guides on skippable episodes or guides to let me know where big important moments happened. People were super helpful and understanding and gave me a guide. When I got into watching C2 and asked that same question. The response I got was “there aren’t any skippable episodes, and it is integral that you don’t skip around in the videos because you might miss something. This campaign isn’t like C1. Every detail is important”. As someone who has finished C2 I can say that this is not true lol. C2 is similar to C1 in that some episodes are totally skippable and not every detail is super important. That being said I’ve seen that sentiment by enough fans of C2 that I am nervous that the show streamlining and shuffling around events may not go over as well with the fans as the changes that came with LOVM.
3. This is basically just point #2.5 but I’m nervous that the series won’t live up to how things played out in the heads of fans. There are some incredible animatics on youtube about major and minor moments from C2 that are so well done that I’m nervous they won’t hit the same in the show. Which is a dumb concern but it is also a concern I had with LOVM. Which thankfully so far hasn’t been the case with me as I think the team have been nailing the emotional beats from C1. Honestly they should be fine and I should have faith in the team.
Anyway this is probably the first time a franchise I’ve loved so much has been adapted into a tv show and this is probably what it feels like for book readers when a big budget movie is made about a series they love. I want it to be really good but am super nervous that it either won’t live up to the expectations or other fans will be bummed. Thanks for humoring this longwinded post Tumblr Dot Com. 
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lillywillow · 1 year
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Play Pretend
Summary: Clint takes the team LARPing
 Written for: @buckybarnesbingo
 Words: 1142
 Square Filled: C2- Team Dynamics
 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral Reader  
 Warnings: None
 A/N: Kind of inspired by the episode of Hawkeye where he meets the New York Live Action Role Players but is not cannon compliant
 Clint was really excited to introduce the team to his LARP buddies. He thought that joining them on one of their campaigns might help the team to bond. Steve and Bucky thought the idea was interesting as they had never done anything like it, Bruce thought that things might get a little too exciting and thought it best if he didn’t participate and Tony… well, he decided he had better things to do. As for Thor, it was decided that it might be best if he didn’t join in just in case he got too carried away and forgot the Play part of LARP. Clint was pretty excited when everyone else was open to the idea of trying. When you were introduced to them, you found they were just as cool people as Clint described them. They taught you a few basics of the game and guided you through the rules. They also explained that their guild was in the middle of a campaign so they weren’t accepting new members as of right now but they would set you up with a guild that were having an open day and they would hook you up with costumes. Bucky had to admit it, he was having a lot of fun.
 In the weeks leading up to the open day, your team spent a lot of time practicing. Clint, of course didn’t need any training as an archer but he enjoyed chatting with his friends and encouraging bonding as a team. Steve had been cast as a mage so he spent his time memorising which ‘magic pouch’ was for which spell and learning how to use a staff. You, Bucky and Nat had been cast as warriors so you learnt how to swordfight and use a shield. Steve offered his advice where he could on that angle. Sam had been cast as a king but he also had to learn the basics. You, as a group had a blast learning the lingo, acting out the fights and trash-talking one another in archaic language. You got a little carried away during one practice and kicked Bucky hard in the chest which left a boot print shaped bruise on his skin. Everyone laughed but you promised you would tone things down for the day.
 The day of the big skirmish finally arrived and the team were pretty excited. Clint’s friends arrived to show their support and Missy helped to style Nat and Bucky’s hair into warrior braids. She also offered to help with your hair if you wanted. Between his sword, new costume and hairstyle, Bucky felt quite princely. He almost felt ready to join the Fellowship of the Ring. The rules were explained one last time to everyone before letting them all go to fight.
 The objective of this game was to capture the treasure in the castle. Your team was more than ready for the task. All your training had paid off. Clint covered you from the back, Steve cast his spells and fought off anyone with his staff if they got close range (both of them collecting their ammo as they went) while you, Nat, Bucky and Sam all had each other’s backs. Nat was more of a close combat warrior and was able to nimbly avoid attacks. Bucky’s natural skills with a knife also came in handy whenever someone got too close. Sam, while not used to this kind of weapons training, actually looked pretty cool and regal. You also found your skills as an agent were practical for this kind of environment (as long as you didn’t actually hit for real). You were doing pretty great until you stormed the castle. The other players felt like they were multiplying the closer you got to the treasure. Your tight squadron seemed to spread out as they cut in which was probably part of their strategy. Then something bad happened. You were facing a warrior, one hand on your sword, the other using your shield to block. Bucky had just finished off an opponent when he saw another warrior creeping up on you.
 “Y/N! Behind you!”
 His warning came too late as you were ‘stabbed’ in the back. You fell dramatically to play along. Bucky ran over and ‘finished off’ your two assailants before cradling you in his arms.
 “Bucky…” you softly called.
 “I’m here. I’ve got you…”
 “Avenge me, my love. For the glory of Sam’s kingdom,” you feebly whimpered.
 “I’ll do it for you…” he vowed.
 You let out one last exhale before ‘dying’ in his arms. Bucky gave you one final kiss which you couldn’t resist kissing back before gently placing you back down and getting back out there.
 “So do we lay here all afternoon now?” you asked one of the other fallen.
 “Just until the battle is over. Shouldn’t be long now,” they shrugged.
 You flipped over to watch as your team climbed up the staircase like a well-oiled machine. They looked so cool as they fought, just as they did in real life. However, you couldn’t take your eyes off Bucky. Even though he was fighting, you could tell how much he was enjoying himself. He cut down the last foe on the stairs so Sam could run up them and claim the treasure in the name of your team. With that, the grand battle was over and you get up. Bucky rushed over to help you to your feet and hugged you tight.
 “Are you okay? You’re not hurt for real are you?”
 His concern really touched you.
 “I’m fine, baby. A little stiff but not worse than coming off missions,” you replied. “Sorry, I couldn’t be there for your triumph.”
 “At least I got my vengeance,” he chuckled.
 You smiled and kissed him softly.
 “You look so handsome with that hairstyle,” you smiled, making him blush.
 Before he could reply, Sam stepped in.
 “Hey, are you two going to make goo-goo eyes at each other all day or are we going to celebrate our victory like kings?” he grinned.
 You both shrugged and went to join in the festivities.
 After that day, Clint’s friends welcomed you to LARP with them whenever they needed a few extra people. With all the fun Bucky had, he was more than happy to go again as long as he had to by his side. You would often ‘avenge’ each other if you fell in battle and if you were on opposite sides, you would act out dramatic fights. You made for a pretty great team.
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