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bitchimasnake-sss · 7 months ago

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i love from me to you sm! 😭 like it aimed directly to my heart 😭 you're so good at writing stuff so, here i am asking for a zoro!fic where reader hides that she got wounded during their last battle and zoro founds out and our poor moss head thought reader was gonna die so, he confessed (i just love flustered zoro) 😚 n e ways, continue writing the best stories!! lotsoflove! - glasses of nanamin

i feel like this is your second ask cause of the "n e ways" but lol, eitherways that's such a cute concept!! i would love love love this (i tweaked the prompt a little bit to fit it better, but i hope you like it it still)

got me losin' my cool ft. roronoa zoro!

set-up: as anon asked!! you get hurt during a fight and zoro almost has a mental breakdown haha live, laugh, love <3

warning: a bit of angst, zoro is a dumbass. otherwise, wholesome!

roronoa zoro's feet pound against the earth and he was sure that with every leap he took, his heart sunk further under. his fingers were clammy. so very clammy against your soft skin. and he was sure the sweat dripping off his forehead and dropping onto your bloodied tank top was the last thing you wanted to see before you died.

"zo—" you rasped helplessly and your voice felt like graters against his skin. your chapped lips, almost closed eyes, the wound on your stomach and your week, blood-stained hand on it. he couldn't even bear to look at you without wanting to breakdown.

"stop talkin, please." he clenched his jaw tighter, the sound of teeth against teeth jarring. and although he refused to look down at you, cradled carefully in his arms, he could hear the desperate heaves that rocked your body.

he picked up the pace, ducking under hanging vines and leaping over overgrown roots of ancient trees carefully, so, as to not hurt you. the ship should be two minutes away, docked at the edge of the island and chopper must be there. and chopper would know what to do. how to help you.

zoro had to just deliver you to chopper.

but with his poor geographical skills, he felt like he had been running for the past thirty minutes without finding the ship. and he was certain the ship was docked only 10 minutes away from where the fight was taking place between the strawhat crew and a local pirate crew.

"zoro—" you started again.

why were you speaking? DID YOU WANT TO DIE?

"—don't use up your breath. please." he panted, feet still working to find the ship. where was that goddamn ship?

"that side—" you winced as you pointed your arm in the opposite direction. you coughed, wincing again before whispering, "the sunny."

zoro's head whipped around to look behind him. and at once, he changed the course. running as fast as he could, he soon found himself at the rocky beach the ship had been docked at.

"CHOPPER!" the swordsman bellowed for the mini doctor as he climbed up the ship. the reindeer was peering over the deck and when he looked at your nearly passed-out figure, he yelped in surprise.

"she got stabbed." zoro explained as he carried you inside to chopper's makeshift office/operation theater. laying you down gently, they both looked guilty as you groaned and clutched your own hand on the wound tighter.

"i need to apply some anti-septic, clean the wound and stitch it up." chopper stated, eerily calm in the heat of the moment. "here—" he gave zoro a sterilized cloth from his cupboard, "—apply it to her wound. put pressure on the area, i need to go make the anti-septic really quick."

"you have to make it? how long will that take?" if the swordman wasn't scared out of his wits, he would be surprised at how desperate he sounded.

"five minutes."

zoro looked at the reindeer wide-eyed. but the reindeer ran off, presumably to make the said medicine.

he looked back at you, putting the cloth to the wound and gently pushing down. he knew how to make the bleeding stop, he had done this multiple time. what he hadn't done multiple times was see you so lifeless, so incredibly overtaken by pain.

"hey." he found himself saying softly. softer than he had ever spoken before, "hey, can you look at me? hear me?"

you nodded slowly and relief washed over him. atleast you hadn't lost all cognitive senses.

"just focus on my voice, okay?" he knelt down so that he was on your eye-level from the bed. his other hand gingerly took ahold of yours. mindlessly, he rubbed soothing circles on your skin. he repeated, "just focus on my voice. yeah, close your eyes. i'm here okay?"

you found yourself closing your eyes, relying solely on the darkness of your eyelids and his voice to guide you to safety. his hand felt like a familiar weight against your stomach, the kind of touch that will renew a dead man and get him climbing back from his grave. his voice was sweet, too sweet to be even called his.

"i—" he paused, rubbing your skin with the pad of his thumb, "chopper's gonna fix you up, you know. h-he always does. i mean you're stronger than this. you'd survive, right?"

he's not sure if he meant to ask it as a question. he was sure he had said it to sound reassuring. but somewhere in between him uttering the words and you hearing them, they had turned into a desperate, desolate plea.

your chest fluttered underneath him, your breath strained. the face he adored slowly scrunched up from the pain. and he found himself talking even more.

"focus on me, okay? just me." he steeled his voice. and his nerves. "you'd be okay. you know, you always said you'd make me mochi, you never did. you said you'd make sake flavoured mochi. is that even a thing?" he laughed despite himself. it was barely a laugh. a pitiful scoff maybe? it was not the kind of laugh that would fool you.

"uh— once you get better." he pretended to ignore the way your body seemed to go slack under him. he repeated, "once you get better, i'm gonna convince franky to make us fireworks. you love those. and- and nami. i'd convince that money-hungry witch to lend me some money so that i can take you out. we will go shopping. you always said you—"

why were you so awfully quiet? usually, you'd talk to the point where he wanted to cut his ear off. now, he wanted to her you. he wanted to hear you call him a moss-head like sanji and he wanted you to laugh when he yelled at luffy for doing something stupid. and—

"—hey?" his voice pitched higher, "please wait, chopper will be back yeah?"

but you didn't even shake your head a weak yes. his shaky fingers reached out to look for your pulse on your neck. it was there. feeble, but there. but for how long?

how long till he lost you?

his throat was closing up, he couldn't breathe. his eyes burned and he was sure he was gonna mark your skin with his own from the way he held onto your wrist.

why won't you talk to him? call out his name, god fucking dammit. nobody called his name the way you did. as if you liked the syllables enough to make a home out of them. nobody smiled at him the way you did. so sweet, too sweet for him. you were everything. even though he was just another wrecked, broken boy with dreams too big for his mortal body, you were everything.

"please," he clutched onto you like a maddening bastard, "please. just hold on, okay?"

but bile seemed to crawl farther up his throat every time you didn't respond. not even a slight glance. not even the movement of a pinky. his fingers checked for your pulse. faint, but there.

and he couldn't hold his words back. he called out your name in a desperate effort to awaken you. water blurred his vision and he blinked it away. his throat was scratchy. too scratchy. and where was chopper?

"i love you." he finally confessed, not thinking much of his words than the fact that he just wanted you to hear them. "i love you so much. i have for so long. i-it wasn't supposed to be like this. i- i was gonna take you out to explore some island. i would have bought you food and called you an idiot when you smiled at me. then— then." he paused, "i would have told you i loved you. you would have said nothing back. and i would have loved even despite that."

he called out your name, sobs racking through his body like accursed symphonies.

"move." chopper was back, in his hand was a ceramic bowl with a green, gooey paste. "go out. i'd call you back, okay?"

if chopped noticed the state zoro was in, he simply chose not to dwell on it. and if zoro had any residual doubts for what kind of a doctor chopper was, he didn't dwell on them either. he caressed your hand one last time and stepped out.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

the swordsman had been pacing around the deck. none of the members were back and it gnawed on his heart. what if they were hurt too? should he go back to see? but how could he leave chopper and you alone here? and what kind of a first mate was he if he cannot even save his own crew?

the world's greatest swordman be damned.

chopper stepped out and zoro looked at the doctor, frantic. chopper gave him a sigh and chased it with a smile, "she's okay."

zoro was not sure if it was the exhaustion, or the relief, or some other feeling his gut had concocted in him without asking. but he crashed down on his knees. his palms felt rough against his face and when he inhaled, he could smell dried blood on them.

"hey." chopper trotted towards him, keeping his paw on the green-haired man's shoulders, "she's okay, really. they missed any vital spots and she didn't lose a lot of blood. she will heal, okay?"

zoro couldn't do anything but just nod along. then, when he had the courage to look away from his hands. he looked at the doctor, finally muttering a faint "thank you."

the reindeer blushed at the compliment, "don't thank me. but you know, once she's better, you should tell her how you feel. this time maybe while she's conscious."

"chopper." the swordsman groaned.

the reindeer shrugged mechanically, "i won't tell anyone what i heard if you promise to take her out on that date."

after much deliberation— having to choose between humiliation at the hand of his crewmates when they discovered his crush or the humiliation from his crush when he finally confessed— he finally gave in. after all, humiliation from one was better than humiliation from seven. especially that fucking cook.

"fine." he grumbled, "i'd take her out."

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

it had been two weeks since you were stabbed. well, you didn't talk to anyone about it, really. but when you drifted off into the wicked embrace of sleep, you would be plagued by the memories. and well, a confession.

it's not like you were pretending to be dead!! your body had simply given up. it was exhausted from the fighting and the not-dying. so, when you were laid on chopper's bed to be patched up, your body had gone slack. but just because your body had gone slack doesn't mean you weren't awake.

it had been two weeks and you hadn't told the green-haired asshole what you had heard. why? maybe cause you thought he would make the first move. or maybe because you weren't quite sure if he actually said those things or if you hallucinated it to dilute the pain.

eitherways, seemed like things between you and the mosshead were the same as they were before the incident. and you were really starting to consider the hallucination excuse. but then—

"hey." zoro quipped up as he came to stand beside you. it was cloudy today, the grey skies churning in anticipation of a storm. the winds were unkind and the sea was malevolent. beautiful nonetheless.

"oh hey." you turned and gave him a small smile. you shifted from one feet to another, pretending as if you weren't terrified of the route this conversation might take, "whats up?"

"uh—" he looked back for a spilt-second and you saw— from the corner of your eyes— chopper hidden behind a bunch of boxes, giving zoro his best death glare. zoro sighed, "so, uh, this is random, i think? but when we dock on the next island tomorrow morning. do like... do you want to go see some new sword-cleaning equipment with me?"

you shouldn't have laughed. but you did.

"what's funny?!" his eyes widened and his cheeks were dusted pink.

"no-nothing." you heaved, closing your eyes. "that's the best excuse you could come up with? sword cleaning equipment?"

"what do you mean 'excuse'? i need some equipment!"

"zoro." you forced open your eyes, your smile still frozen over your lips, "if you want to go out on a date with me, you should say that okay?"

his ears went red and he looked away. you were sure if the weather was quiet, you could hear his heart picking up the pace. clearing his throat, he finally asked, "who told you? chopper?"

"no, dummy." you reached your hand out, taking his calloused palm in yours. your thumb rubbed familiar patterns on his hand, "you did."

"me?" he snapped to look back at you, "me?"

you just gave him a grin, "this reminds me, i did promise you i'd try making sake flavoured mochi. i never did. but again, you said you'd ask frankie to make us fireworks and we're still firework-less. but hey, i forgive you if you forgive me okay?"

his head could have burst open from the sheer pressure on his brain but you continued, "but eitherways, what i really mean is that if you said i love you." you stepped a bit closer, "i'd say i love you too."

your hand let go of his and you chose to walk away, leaving him dumbfounded. when his senses came to him, he ran upto you, "YOU HEARD THAT ALL?!"

"all of it."

"ugh."

"heh, it was kinda cute."

"i thought you were dying, woman."

"in a way, we all already are."

"have you been hanging out with robin too much? god, kill me."

"god doesn't need to. you're already dying."

"i want to die faster."

you took his hand back in yours and pulled him towards yourself. pecking his cheek, you said, "no. we still have to go on that date. i mean, if you ever actually ask me."

the flustered mess that was rorononoa zoro just sighed. accepting his fate, he asked, "well, do you wanna go on that date or what?"

you snickered, "i'll think about it"

"do you live to annoy me?"

"maybe. but you love meee."

"i might change my mind after this."

but despite his words, his fingers stayed gently intertwined with yours. hey, maybe getting stabbed in the stomach wasn't all that bad? (jk, it was very very bad)

a/n: i love writing stoic men are flustered little guys lmaoo. hopefully y'all like this? i've been writing a lot of fluff/semi-angst lately. i wanna write some nsfw content but im so out of ideas. send reqs if you guys have anything in mind!!

#one piece #opla #op #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #zoro fluff #zoro fic #zoro imagine #one piece x reader

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vibrantshoyo · 22 days ago

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SCKAP AU Part 4!!

The S stands for Sora

The C stands for Cora: Parts [1] [2] [3]

Switching gears to another blonde who deserved some happiness with their family!

Sora’s illness is still quite debilitating but she pulls through. I’m not sure what her symptoms were in canon so I’m just giving her a weaker body (like loss of bone mass) and a weaker immune system. So she can walk but it takes a lot out of her.

Since she lives, Judge decides to “kill” off Sanji a bit sooner, thinking that he absolutely needs to get rid of any weakness. Sora is of course devastated until Reiju comes by and tells her the truth. Then, she’s angry. Angry enough to plan to leave.

She decides to take Reiju and Sanji with her when she does. Constantly telling herself that she’s too weak to grab unwilling children, that Judge would keep too close an eye on the other boys…but she still feels guilt. Guilt that she doesn’t feel a huge hole in her heart at the thought of leaving Ichiji, Niji and Yonji behind. (It’s why she has photos only of them as babies…the last time she really felt connected to them)

Still escape towards the East Blue. At this point Sora’s not faring too well health wise and they have to stay in one place for her. That is until Reiju hears of a ship hiring for their kitchen crew. She convinces Sanji to go and learn how to cook from professionals - to learn about the All Blue. Lots of fighting to get him to go but once Sora joins in on Reiju’s side, he’s off.

They constantly write to one another while they’re apart until suddenly it’s been radio silence on Sanji’s end for far too long. Sora and Reiju hear of the ship he was on sinking and fear the worst. Just as they’ve reluctantly decided to declare him as dead, he shows up again with an older man with only one leg.

I’ve basically got Zeff taking them in and having him and Sora fall in love 🤭

Reiju and Zeff butt heads on his idea of women and not fighting them a lot as she grows up. Her skill and much more durable body do make him budge some on his ideals. So Sanji grows up not wanting to fight women still (because they’re not all as strong as Reiju) but once he’s on the crew he prioritizes Nami’s, Vivi’s and Robin’s safety over what he was taught.

Reiju doesn’t cook but she is the Baratie’s most popular waitress. Especially amongst the ladies (rip Sanji) while Sora is more of a business type that stays in the back (mostly due to health).

Enter Gin. The real difference here is that Reiju can join Luffy and Sanji in the fight. And once the poison gas comes out? Reiju really shines.

I’ve made her into a sort of Poison Vampire. Thought it’d be cool if she sucked out poison through a bite.

So Gin isn’t on his deathbed and I’ve decided to have him join the Straw Hats. Also think it’d be funny if he had personal beef with Smoker.

(Being the only grown ass adult, he almost cries tears of joy when Robin joins)

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stormblessed95 · 3 months ago

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Watching Are You Sure?! EP 1

A reminder of how I do these reaction posts as I watch things. I just write my reactions and thoughts down literally as a happen. Think more of a bullet point format. I'll include links when I can to videos, thanks to the people who twt who upload clips. And at the end, I'll do a better wrap up of all my opinions. I hope everyone enjoyed the show so far!!

The episode starts with Jimin showing up right before JKs GMA performance and interview, July 14th 2023.

Them meeting up and talking about how he has his performance in NY on GMA later. Jimin saying that he hadn't seen him in a while, their schedules kept them SO BUSY 😭😭 this trip was so good for them. And the way he caressed JKs throat and told him to rest his voice and take care of it since it had been hurting. 🥺 So many soft touches too as soon as they were able to see each other again. And we didn't even get to see their actual reunion.

JK packing up his hotel room and talking about how he never traveled so freely before. They are so sweet and so busy and I'm so glad they were able to carve out even just a few weekends for time to themselves. And the way when the staff was talking to them about plans and who would drive etc, JK said he would drive and was just sitting there talking about traffic while they were holding hands interlocked resting in Jimins lap 😭 that's so??!!

Then fighting over the AC in the car in efforts to take care of the other is so cute. Jimin wanting to make sure JKs throat stayed okay, JK not wanting Jimin to get sick. They baby the heck out of each other. And Jimin watching his GMA performance on his phone 🥰 JKs cute smile while Jimin was jamming out to his music 🥺

"JungJi" new ship name alert?! Lmao!

JK ordering for the table 💜

The absolute bickering over who is a bad driver/bad at parking. The get out. Lmao the way they absolutely irritate each other on purpose is amazing and soooo best friends/might as well be married behavior 😂🤣

When they went shopping together and JK said they should buy the same shorts together 😍🥰 matchy matchy always!!

And an ARMY recognized them and saying hello and they were so cutely excited about it. "We've still got it." 😍🥺🥰

JK ordering for them again at the brewery 🥰 and I love that they went to an LGBTQ friendly brewery for one of their first hang out spots. Some ARMYs went and talked to the people working and said they everyone said Jikook were super polite, no one had recognized them and they kept to themselves a bit and just had some phones/go pros for recording.

The way that they also started talking about how this was their trip before military service. And how JK started bonking Jimin over the head with his camera when he mentioned it. Jimin was giggling but you KNOW that they was emotional from it too. This was when they were thinking there was still a chance they would be separated for 2 years. I know they were anxious to get to cherish this time spent together. I know it meant SO much to them both and probably so much to JK that Jimin traveled all this way and made it happen.

The way that JKs kayak tipped over immediately and Jimin just was cackling as he continued to paddle away and the staff were fishing JK out of the lake 🤣🤣🤣 just for JK to furiously row up on him and be like "you have your phone?? Tip over!!" 🤣🤣 They are so funny and cute! And Jimin taking a photo of his baby 💜 the way Jimin spent the whole time on the water just laughing and smiling fondly at everything JK would do. It's so freaking sweet. They just really had so much fun together being silly and goofy.

Not Jimin giving JK the "you come here often?" Pick up line and the immediate roleplay they both get into 😅🤣😂 they really can't go too long without at least a little bit of flirting lol

We know there was a getaway cabin with a 2 bed option but Jikook picked the one with just one bed. Lmfao good for them. Hey BH, we know you have no issues with filming the members while they sleep, even while they share the bed. How come we got zero footage of Jikook sharing the bed? 😂😂

Jimin being like "JK, you are a good cook 🥺" and Jungkook just immediately getting to work on cooking them dinner 🥺💜 although when Jimin asked for a taste, why did JK feed him from his FINGER?! Lmfao and what the hell was the noise he made when Jimin licked his finger 😂🤣 half moan, half laugh? I don't even know lmao

And the way he ran to go feed Jimin a piece of the chicken because he was proud of how his cooking was turning out. Sooo cute. Jimin accidentally dropped a piece of chicken and acted like he committed a great offence 😭😂 the way they spilt dinner duties though was so cutely domestic.

JK speaking directly to the camera to speak to the viewers. Man has done too many hours long live streams. Lmao he is too used to just chatting with ARMYs 🤣😂 that was adorable and Jimin thought so too. And the way Jimin goes "I miss V" and JK immediately is like "let's call him!" Anything to make Jimin smile! But they clearly cut so much of that convo, BH, give me my members loving each other istg I miss them too much. And don't even get me started on the yoonminkook conversation. I genuinely almost teared up. I miss BTS so much 😭 their laughter is healing

Jimin getting a stomach bug 😭😭 my poor baby. And the screen just going black while Jikook cuddle?? The give us minimal Audio and a black screen and then they cut away entirely and we KNOW they are cuddling. Lmfao TF BH!! We know they cuddle, where is my fanservice?! And JK turned over at some point and elbowed Jimin in the nose. You KNOW they were all up in each other's business on that bed for that to happen 😂😂😂

And my poor Jimmie... He feels so bad 😭😭 JK is taking such sweet care of him though.

JK outside stacking rocks while Jimin rests is giving me Yumi vibes. Lmfao I love him (and her!) SO MUCH! The way he prayed after too for a good trip with Jimin. The rock tower is also (correct me here if needed) a way to pray for someone's health and well-being. My poor sick Jiminie. Yumi also used the rock towers as ways to pray and communicate with her Gods.

Wrap up thoughts?

Not much I haven't already said honestly. Lol but just more emphasis on how special this trip is, both to Jikook themselves and for us to have it shared with us. This IS comfort TV. They bring each other such peace and happiness. They both banter and tease and have such fun. They both baby the heck out of the other. JK taking care of a sick Jimin was soooo nice seeing. The way Jimin wasn't feeling good, but rallied in order to have a good time for their weekend away.

It's also interesting that so much of this is honestly filmed from GoPro. They have some staff and crew there, but from what I've seen it's a smaller number than normally goes to film these shows and they are left alone with just installed cameras fairly often. That's extra nice for them. 💜

I am and forever will be salty about all the cuts. The Tae face time was cut short, the cuddling was cut, so much was cut. Which duh, I get why. But I still want more 😂 looking forward to the behinds to see if we get anything more. That black screen cut from them cuddling though was 👀👀😂😂

JK was such a good leader and took charge so much so far this trip. It was cool to see, Jimin ALSO thought so! The way he was speak for both of them, drove them around, ordered food and drinks for them, gave dinner prep instructions. Gave Jimin his medicine.... I'm not saying it's hyung behavior.... But... Lol also I did notice that there was a pretty even split of address between him calling Jimin hyung, or just by his name. Along with all the little random bits of flirting sprinkled through the episode lol so cute..

Hope you guys enjoyed it!! And thanks for reading all my random thoughts! Onto episode 2!

#jikook #kookmin #jikook are you sure #jikook travel show #are you sure?! episode 1

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7s3ven · 2 months ago

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SHORT STRAW. human! miles quaritch

IN WHICH… miles quaritch needs a scientist on his team, and you just had to draw the short straw.

Notes: scientist/doctor! reader, petnames, inappropriate jokes, age gap (not explicitly stated, but it is there),

—

As a kid, you were always quiet and introverted. As a teenager, you rarely spoke. Now, as an adult, you were on the most dangerous planet, working as a scientist despite having a medical degree. You weren’t even sure how you got on Pandora. All you did was get outstanding grades, win some awards, and then the RDA shipped you off. It’s not like you were complaining, you had nothing left on Earth.

Pandora was your home now and little by little, you grew comfortable with the new environment. You were working along Grace Augustine, a renowned scientist. And you were finally happy with where you were in life.

“Those idiots!” You heard Grace yell as she slammed her cup of coffee onto the table, accidentally spilling the hot liquid onto her latest report. She screamed out a string of curse words, causing every head to turn in her direction. "I need a damn cigarette!"

You hurried over with a pack, handing it over to Grace. "What's wrong?" You asked, furrowing your brows together lightly. You didn't have to question it too much to know what was running through Grace's head. You knew, based on the frown and sneer pulling at her lips, that it had something to do with Parker Selfridge or Quaritch. Maybe even both, with the way her eye was twitching in annoyance.

"Quaritch, that bastard!" She exclaimed, throwing a rage fit. "He wants a scientist on his team for today, even though I offered before, and he said no!" Grace clicked her tongue, banging a hand down onto her desk.

No scientist would willingly work for Quarditch, and Grace knew that. That's how you ended up in the conference room with about ten other scientists who doubled as doctors, Miles Quaritch, and Lyle Wainfleet.

You stood close to Grace, almost hiding behind her. The Colonel had always intimidated you; he towered over you, and you were rather scared of his strength. You had seen him punch another marine, sending the soldier flying back. So, it was safe to say you wanted to stay on his good side.

"Alright, everybody, grab a straw," Grace muttered. Some of the other scientists groaned, tilting their heads back in frustration. Drawing straws was the usual method the scientists used to decide who would write the next report or who would have to chug the year-old alcohol sitting in the cupboard.

"That's how you're gonna decide my team's scientist?" Quaritch grumbled, clearly unimpressed by the childish method. Grace merely rolled her eyes. "Just assign me your best one. Or better yet, assign me the prettiest one." He pointed right at you, lips curling into a snarky smirk.

Grace held out an arm, "She is my best scientist."

Quaritch shrugged, "That's a bonus."

Grace ignored him, holding out a handful of straws. Quaritch watched as each person picked a straw, their gazes darting around nervously and hoping they weren't the unlucky person. "Okay. Hold 'em up." Grace muttered. There was a moment of silence before her eyes flickered to you in pity. "Y/N got the shortest."

"Well, lookie here, I won." Quaritch didn't even try to hide the grin on his face, mocking Grace.

She scowled, pointing the middle finger at the marine. "You better keep her in one piece, you dog. I need her to finish writing her thesis."

"Yeah, I'll keep your pretty little scientist safe." He uttered as he walked around the table, stopping in front of you. "In the meantime, get that damn report on my desk before Selfridge has a fit again." Quaritch hooked a finger around your belt, pulling you forward. "Let's go, Wainfleet."

You barely had time to process the situation before Quaritch’s firm grip on your belt yanked you forward again, pulling you into unified steps with him. You struggled to keep up with his long strides, feeling the stares of your coworkers burning into your back.

As you walked, more like jogged, you could feel the intimidating presence of Lyle trailing behind you. He didn’t say a word, but you knew he was watching your every move. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, the cold, metallic walls making you feel claustrophobic.

Quaritch finally broke the silence, his voice gruff but not as harsh as you expected. "Listen up, Doc. I don't need a nervous wreck on my team. You’re here to get the job done, not to cower in the corner. You got that?" He poked your shoulder, and you quickly nodded.

“Good,” He continued, his pace not slowing as he spoke. “My team and I need someone who can act as a scientist and a doctor. We're lucky we got stuck with you." You heard a loud click beside you, and you turned your head to see Lyle grinning at you. He was replacing the bullets in his gun as a means to scare you even more. "We’re going into the forest, and I, more like Selfridge, need you to analyze some samples. Think you can do that, pretty?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady as you responded. "Yes, sir. I can do that." You kept your gaze lowered.

Quaritch glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. “Good. Keep up that attitude, and you might just survive this.”

You didn’t know whether to be reassured or terrified by his words. You knew that Pandora was dangerous—more dangerous than you ever imagined when you first arrived. The creatures, the environment, and even the air could kill you if you weren’t cautious. You had never actually left the science base before, and now you were being dragged out against your will by a team that seemed to care more about their mission than your life.

As you reached the armoury, Quaritch stopped and turned to face you, his gaze piercing. “Suit up. We leave in ten.”

You nodded again, quickly moving to gather the gear you needed. Your hands trembled slightly as you secured your equipment, the heavy weight pressing you down. You had always been comfortable in the lab, surrounded by data and experiments. This was entirely different—this was survival.

Lyle handed you a weapon, and you hesitated for a moment before grasping it. You weren’t used to holding one, and the cold metal felt foreign in your hands. “Better learn to use that fast,” He said, patting your shoulder. “You’ll need it out there.”

You barely had time to attach the last handgun to your hip before Quaritch approached you again. "You ready, pretty?" He grinned down, hands resting on his hips. Without another word, he turned and led the way towards the rest of the marine team.

They lifted their heads, raising their eyebrows. "Who's that?" One of the only female members questioned, pointing at you.

"Our little scientist." The Colonel uttered, slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Play nice with her. She’s never been outside before.”

The team gazed at you, looking you up and down with a mix of curiosity and amusement at your height compared to Quaritch. Their eyes soon flickered to Quaritch's arm that was draped around you.

"New meat? The forest will eat her alive." The same female marine, Z-dog, smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

You heard Quaritch chuckle and felt his grip tighten around you as an act of reassurance. Or perhaps it was to keep you from running. "She’ll be fine. I’ll ensure she knows how to use more than just her brains out here."

Lyle, leaning casually against a nearby chair, grinned as he chimed in. "Oh, I bet you will, Colonel." There was a grin spreading across his face. "You always did have a soft spot for the smart ones. Just don’t get too distracted."

The team laughed, their voices rough and playful. Quaritch rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to deny it. "Don’t worry, Wainfleet. I can multitask. Besides, if you’re so concerned, why don’t you take her under your wing? Show her how the big boys play."

Lyle gave you an exaggerated once-over, his grin widening. "I dunno, boss. She might be too delicate for me. I wouldn’t want to break her."

Z-dog snorted. "Please. You’d be lucky if she didn’t break you first, Wainfleet. Don’t underestimate the quiet ones—they’ve got a lot of pent-up energy."

Quaritch raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. "You heard the lady, Wainfleet. Better watch yourself. Might just find out what this one’s capable of." He slapped you on the back.

You couldn’t help but blush at the teasing, not accustomed to it. Your science and medical coworkers never mocked each other; they were far too lost in their own worlds.

Another marine piped up with a grin. "Hey, just make sure you keep her out of trouble, Colonel. The last thing we need is her getting lost out here and us having to play rescue squad. Unless, of course, you’d enjoy being her knight in shining armour."

Quaritch huffed, giving his teammate a mocking glare. "I’m nobody’s damn knight. And she won’t need rescuing. Right, Doc?" He nudged you.

You nodded quickly, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. "Right."

"Atta girl," Quaritch said with a grin. He gave your shoulder a light pat before stepping away, his authoritative tone taking over again. "Alright, enough with the jokes. We’ve got work to do."

The thick vegetation continuously slapped your oxygen mask, causing you to stumble every second. The suffocating air clung to you as you slowly trudged after the marine team. You noticed how Quaritch, who was at the front of the pack, would glance over his shoulder at you. You could tell in his gaze that he saw you as a liability.

After what felt like an hour of jogging through the forest, Quaritch abruptly stopped, raising a hand to signal to the others. The soldiers halted with practised ease. You, on the other hand, clumsily crashed into Lyle.

"Alright, Doc," Quaritch grunted, turning to face you. "Before we go any deeper, we need to ensure you know how to handle yourself. No point in lugging around dead weight."

You felt a lump form in your throat as he stepped closer, his tall figure casting a shadow over you. He gestured to the weapon slung over your back. "First lesson: how to use that thing. Have you ever fired a gun before? Or, are you more of a delicate touch type?"

Despite being covered from head to toe in weapons you had never held before, you knew you still looked out of place amongst the hardened soldiers surrounding you.

You shook your head quickly, trying not to let Quaritch's words fluster you. "No, sir. Never."

Quaritch smirked, clearly expecting your answer. "Figures. Well, you’re gonna learn fast." He grabbed your belt loop again, leading you a few steps away from the group. "See that tree? That’s your target."

"Hey, Colonel," Lyle called out, “Didn’t know you were into giving private lessons. Thought you left the hand-holding to Grace."

The other marines chuckled, their laughter low and suggestive. "Careful, boss," Another of them exclaimed. "You might have to be gentle with this one. Don’t want to scare her off."

Quaritch rolled his eyes, but the smirk never left his face. "Don’t worry, boys. I’ll go nice and slow for her. Gotta make sure she enjoys her first time, right?"

You blushed, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the suggestive jokes being tossed around. Quaritch stepped closer, grabbing your gun and handing it to you. Quaritch moved to stand behind you, his hands settling over yours on the rifle to line up the weapon with the tree.

"Feet shoulder-width apart. Don’t lean too far forward, unless you want to kiss the dirt.” Quaritch grabbed your hips, pulling you back. What must have been an insignificant touch to him felt huge for you. You had never let anyone touch you in that way, too busy with your academics. “Keep your grip tight; You’re aiming a gun, not giving it a massage."

Behind you, Lyle couldn’t resist another remark. "Hey, Colonel, careful where you’re putting those hands. Might give her the wrong idea."

Quaritch shot him a sideways glance, his smirk turning into a full grin. "Jealous, Wainfleet? Don’t worry, I’ll let you hold her hand next."

Behind you, the marines barely held back their laughter as they leaned against the nearby trees. "Colonel, you gonna take her to prom next?" Z-dog teased, earning another round of chuckles.

Quaritch laughed lowly before returning to you to whisper the instructions in your ear. You took a shaky breath, nodding your head to his words. You shifted from side to side, steadying yourself before you squeezed the trigger.

The rifle's recoil almost knocked you off your feet. Lucky for you, Quarditch was there to catch you.

"Oh, Colonel's getting handsy," Lyle exclaimed. The bullet you had shot grazed the side of the tree trunk, missing the target.

Z-dog laughed. “Maybe you should teach her to aim at something a little closer, Colonel. Like you."

Quaritch didn’t miss a beat. "She doesn’t need to aim at me—she’s already got me in her sights." He loudly clapped his hands together, gaining your attention again. "This time, don’t overthink it. Just line it up and shoot."

You nodded, focusing on the tree once more. This time, you steadied yourself better, and your muscles started to faintly remember the movements.

Quaritch gave a grunt of approval at your second attempt. "Better. Keep at it. You’ll get there."

You practised under Quaritch’s watchful eye for the next hour, gradually getting more comfortable with holding the rifle. The marines kept up their teasing, mainly aimed at their boss and how he was eying you like a hawk.

"Not bad, pretty," Quaritch finally muttered, his usual hardened gaze softening just a bit. "Maybe you won’t get us killed after all." He turned to the Marines, clearing his throat. "Let's move out."

The next time the group stopped was in a secluded part of the forest deep inside the jungle. Your gaze studied the trees and plants around you.

“This is it, Doc. Get to work.” Quaritch handed you the rest of your tools. Lyle sat down on a rock, fidgeting with his gun.

At first, you were so focused on collecting samples that you didn’t notice the eyes following your every movement. You could hear the quiet shuffling of Quaritch, Lyle, and the other marines as they spread out to keep guard. They continued with their teasing banter to pass the time.

As you crouched down to get a better look at some glowing moss, you could feel Quaritch’s gaze on you—intense, and not exactly subtle. The other marines noticed too. His eyes trailed over you, lingering on your body.

You tried to avoid talking to the soldiers as best as you could, desperate to return to the lab so you could study your samples. That was your definition of fun.

Your silence was interrupted by Lyle crouching down beside you. “Careful with those flowers, Doc. They look like they bite.” You glanced at the cluster of spiky flowers, shrugging.

“They don’t.” You quietly murmured.

“Well, if they do, I bet I could beat them.”

Quaritch, overhearing Lyle’s nonsense, shook his head. “That’s ironic, Wainfleet, considering you’ve lost every fight against me.”

“Yeah but you ain’t a flower, Colonel.”

Quaritch sly grinned before looking at you. “You sure you don’t need any help, pretty?” You quickly shook your head in response. The last thing you needed was a soldier ruining your research.

“Watch out for the Colonel’s ‘help.’ He’s got a way of making it sound real nice, but before you know it, you’re running laps around the base at 0500." Lyle pitched in.

Quaritch rolled his eyes, standing up and slapping Lyle on the back of the head. “Thats only if you keep running your mouth, Wainfleet. Which reminds me, you still owe me ten laps from yesterday. You can start now.” With a groan, Lyle stood up, leaving your side to run his dreaded laps.

You were pleasantly surprised that you had not tripped yet. You were naturally clumsy, always managing to make a mess out of the simplest of tasks. You walked forward to look at another flower but a vine that was hidden within the foliage caught you off guard.

You tripped and fell with a large thud, catching the attention of everyone nearby. Quaritch walked over to help you but not before laughing. “Careful.” He teasingly warned. The Colonel made no attempts in hiding how he eyed your body up and down. “You gotta watch where you step. Though, I gotta say, I don’t mind the view.”

You quickly scrambled to your feet, cheeks heating up. Lyle, who had been watching intently, snickered. “You sure you’re just out here for the plants, sir? No other reason?”

You were ready to head back for the day before a plant in the distance caught your attention. “I’ll be quick.” You muttered to Quaritch, hoping he’d let you look at it. He nodded after a long pause.

“I’ll go with her. The rest of you, stay here.” He ordered his soldiers before following after you. You had a skip in your step as you carefully manoeuvred through the maze of tree roots but you were soon too distracted to keep up the pace. Quaritch easily overtook you as you scribbled messy notes into a small notebook.

You were almost at the plant before you slipped again. You mentally cursed at your clumsiness and inability to stay focused of your surroundings. You couldn’t catch yourself in time before stumbling into Quaritch. The impact was enough to send him forward but he quickly turned so his back would take the brunt of the fall. You landed on top of him with a soft grunt, hitting your head on his shoulder.

You took a few moments to regain your breath before you felt Quaritch’s hands rest on your hips. “If you wanted to lie on top of me, pretty, you could have just said so.” He teased. “I always knew you scientists had a habit of being direct but this is a little much, don’t you think?”

You quickly pushed yourself up. “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to!” This was the loudest Quaritch had ever heard you talk. He could barely hear your whispers sometimes, having to lean down to understand your words.

“I ain’t complaining but unless you’re into dangerous places, you might wanna save this stuff for when we’re not in the middle of an alien jungle.” He drawled, causing your body to heat up with embarrassment. He didn’t let you stand up, wanting to see how much of a reaction he could draw out.

Lyle peaked his head around a bush, having heard the sound of you falling. “Are you guys gonna keep us waiting for long while you deal with all that tension? Because I have some coffee I’d really like to drink back at the base.”

“Calm your horses, Wainfleet. We’ll be there in a second.” Quaritch responded, letting you go like he hadn’t purposefully held you down.

In the end, you got the plant and you returned to the base safe and sound. You had expected the Colonel’s attention to be a one time thing but he followed you into the lab.

Grace arched an eyebrow at his appearance. “Here she is, Augustine, safe and sound like I promised.” Quaritch grinned, patting you on the shoulder. “The next time I need a scientist, I want her.” You were already scrambling towards your workspace, laying out your samples.

Quaritch turned to leave but he flashed you another grin. “See you later, pretty.” He called out.

#miles quaritch #avatar wow #avatar way of water #lyle wainfleet #xreader #quaritch x reader #avatar quaritch #atwow quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #avatar x reader #avatar x you #na'vi #avatar pandora #avatar frontiers of pandora #grace augustine

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valkyrie1435atla · 3 months ago

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If This is a Dream, Don't Wake Me - MASTERPOST

Welcome to my blog dedicated to my Avatar: The Last Airbender fan comic. This is the masterpost with links to every part in chronological order, and the link to the spotify playlist of songs I've used in the video version of the comic. It will be updated with every new part I release.

-Synopsis- Team Avatar failed to defeat the Fire Nation, and suddenly find themselves back at the beginning.

Part 1: One Door Closes...

Part 2: Another Door Opens

Part 3: Lazarus Syndrome

Part 4: This Pain is Familiar to Me

Part 5: Delay (My Body Catches up to my Mind)

Part 6: You are Different From Yesterday

Part 7: Meeting you for the First Time (Again)

Part 8: We Need to Talk

Part 9: Get it Right This Time

Part 10: Tense

Part 11: A Change

Part 12: Boiling Point (My Worry Tears me Apart)

Part 13: Play-by-Play

Part 14: MORTEM OBIRE

Part 15: I Think Of You As My Own (All That Matters)

Part 16: Witness

Part 17: A Thankless Job

Part 18 is on HOLD- REDRAWS of parts 1-9 are in progress, in preparation for the posting of this comic on Archive of our own. Expect updates to continue as normal by the end of November.

-things to keep in mind-

I am only one person. This series is not my top priority in my life, it comes second to college, work, self care, etc. I am however extremely passionate about this work, and will update whenever I have the time.

I am an artist, not a writer. While I am working to improve my writing skills, some story elements may have continuity errors, and characters may act ooc sometimes. I really appreciate advice on how to write better

My preferred method of telling my story is through music. The video versions are up on my TikTok (@ valkyrie1435) and will be posted here eventually as well. I will definitely draw in a comic format, but to get the full experience, watch the videos.

This story will feature many of the main cast members, but it is primarily Zuko-centric. He is my special interest character, so naturally I draw him the most.

I am autistic, so my interactions in comments and asks may be awkward.

If you have a question not related to this comic, ask it on my main account, @valkyrie1435 also, don't write an ask if you don't have a question. Please use the comment/reply feature on posts.

I need validation. Like any other artist, I can only motivate myself for so long without outside feedback. Commenting and engaging with posts is very encouraged!

The story is a work in progress. I am not entirely sure the direction this series will be taking, so feel free to speculate or give suggestions on what you would like to see.

Ships will not be a focus. If you are looking for atla ship content, you won't find it here.

Link to Spotify playlist of songs I have used in the video version of the comic V

#atla #avatar the last airbender #if this is a dream au #original comic #prince zuko #uncle iroh #avatar aang #sokka #fan comic #masterpost #If This is a Dream Don't Wake Me #Spotify

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a-leg-without-fear · 3 months ago

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No Fucking Way (pt.2)

and here's part two!!! thank you all SO MUCH for the support you've shown my writing. giving @sukinix a tag because they asked to be notified when this drops. love y'all!!

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 6.8k

Warnings: cursing, PTSD struggles, panic attack mention, and even more adorableness

Series: No Fucking Way

“I want you to name him,” you repeated. Logan stepped a pace away from you, hands raising in surrender.

“No. No fucking way,” he said. You flicked water at him as you finished rinsing off the soapy kitten below you. Logan scoffed at your reaction, moving around you to sit on the lip of the tub, “I ain’t naming a cat that’s not mine.”

“Who’s to say the cat isn’t yours?” you teased. You reached behind you and grabbed a fluffy, green towel from a hook screwed into the wall. Drying your hands, you turned off the faucet and inspected your work on the absolutely drenched kitten huddled in the sink. Blue eyes still squinted, large ears pointing straight up, gray and white fur plastered in one smooth ball around its little body.

“I say it’s not. I don’t want a cat,” Logan said. You gave him a look that said sure you don’t over your shoulder as you scooped the cat in the towel. The little purr factory was sure to bore holes in the towel with the strength of the buzzing. It nuzzled its little head against the towel in an attempt to get water out of its ears.

“Even one as cute as this fluffy guy?” you asked, attempting to reason with the forever-grumpy man sitting on the tub. He ran his fingers through his ruffled hair then placed both hands on his knees.

“How can I tell if he’s fluffy? He’s fucking soaked, doll,” Logan replied.

You sighed, eyes rolling up to the white ceiling. Sure, you loved Logan. You loved him more than life itself. But Christ could he get on your nerves.

“Your understanding of physics never ceases to amaze me, darling,” you said in a singsong manner. A humorless laugh barked from Logan’s chest. The cat looked over to him, eyes widening slightly at the sudden noise, ears perked forward.

“What’re you lookin’ at, cat?” Logan asked. His question was answered with a small “mrraow?” from the now mostly damp kitten. He scoffed at the small creature, “Now it’s sassing me.”

“He’ll sass you less if you give him a name,” you said. A rough grumble echoed in the tub as Logan stood. Boots clacked across the tiled floor as he moved to stand next to you again.

“Alright, you know what? You said he’s fluffy, so that’s his name. Floof,” Logan said. You arched an eyebrow at him, the kitten looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

“...Floof? Really?” you asked. Logan huffed and threw his hands up in frustration.

“You don’t like the name, change it!”

“No, no. I like it. Just didn’t expect that to come from you,” you said, giggles building in your chest.

Logan glared at you, grumbled “whatever,” then stormed out of the bathroom. The kitten, or Floof, watched him leave. His gray and white fur was getting more fluffy the more you dried him with the towel. You assessed the cat in your hands.

“Floof. Yeah, I like it. How about you?” you asked. Blue eyes blinked up at you.

“Maaoww.”

“Good.”

~~~~1 week later~~~~

It was no surprise that Floof became the favorite among students. Whenever the kitten walked into a room, the children would immediately flock to the furball and give it so much love, the professors started complaining about lack of focus within the student body.

Cat trees and scratching posts were a permanent fixture in nearly every room, felt obstacle courses adorned some of the common areas’ walls, there were even pots of cat grass growing in Charles’s study. Floof was free to wander into any part of the mansion, so the students had adapted to looking at the floor whenever they walked to and from class, not wanting to step on the six-week-old kitten.

The only person throughout the entire mansion who hadn’t taken a shine to the newest member was Logan. Of course it was. Mr.Grouchy hated fun, as you knew.

It didn’t help matters that whenever he would style his hair, you would compare his hair tufts to Floof’s ears. You even went so far as to take pictures of both Logan and Floof, without Logan knowing, and edited them to be side by side so you could show Logan the likeness. That had earned you an irritated “they’re not cat ears!” and the cold shoulder for a few hours.

“You look like his dad, Lo,” you said through a fit of giggles. Logan sat in one of the leather armchairs of this particular sitting room. Lit cigar clutched in his left hand, right hand raised to push away Floof should the cat get too close, ankle crossed over his thigh.

“I’m not his fucking dad. I don’t have a cat,” Logan groused, scooping up Floof by the stomach from the armrest and placing the kitten back on the floor. The movement was met with an indignant “mooaaoow!”

“Uh huh. Yes dear,” you replied. You sat across from Logan, and the rather persistent cat, on the green-clothed couch. Shelves with a smattering of books lined the walls not overtaken by huge, bay windows. Streams of midday sun lit up the room. The only other person in this common area was Via, a pink sweater-wearing mutant with telekinesis and telepathy. She sat on one of the benches affixed to the bay windows.

“Don’t ‘yes dear’ me,” Logan said. He lifted the cigar to his mouth and took a puff. Smoke curled around his head like a gray halo dispersed in the sun’s rays.

The bell around Floof’s neck jingled as the cat jumped onto the armrest again. Tiny, gray paws patted on Logan’s elbow. Logan huffed, grabbing the cat around the middle and setting him back on the floor. You watched the two over the mug you held in your hands.

“Cats are more attracted to people who don’t like them,” you mused, taking a sip of your coffee. Logan grunted in response. He pulled on the blue flannel he wore over his tank top. Floof paced back and forth by Logan’s foot.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Logan asked. He gently tapped Floof with the toe of his boot to push the cat further away. Another “maow!” met the action.

“Letting them make the first move instead of forcing affection makes them feel independent,” you explained. The gray fluffball sat in front of Logan, tail wrapped around its feet, and stared up at him. Logan glanced between you and Floof, a frown set deep in his face.

“But he likes the kids, and they’re grabbing at him all the time,” he argued. You snorted a laugh at Logan trying to reason with you. You set your mug down on its coaster and leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees.

“He’s a strange one. Maybe that’s why he likes you so much. You’re exactly alike,” you said, a mischievous smile growing across your lips. Logan took another drag from his cigar.

“We’re not exactly alike,” he said, blowing out a stream of smoke.

You glanced up at the pointed hairstyle that Logan wore everyday. Two, dark, styled points on the sides of his head that faded into sideburns on his cheeks. You looked back down at Floof. His ears twitched as he took in the sounds all over the mansion. Two points on the sides of his head. You met Logan’s eyes again, leaning back and crossing your arms.

“Then explain the cat ears, Lo.”

“Stop it with the fucking cat ears!”

~~~~1 month later~~~

For some reason, the beginnings of a presidential election were taking place. Posters were hung on the walls all over the mansion, buttons had been made, flyers handed out, speeches given. Debates were even being held between students on the candidates.

Well, candidate. Singular. There was only one creature running for office.

Floof.

Started by Crys, a blonde with super strength, and Eclipse, a green jacket-wearing girl who could block other mutant’s powers, the presidential campaign for Mr.Floofen von Floofypants was all the students could talk about. It didn’t help matters that Jean and Storm were working on ballots to be used for the upcoming election.

“All this for a cat is a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” Logan called down from his place on the steel ladder. He reached down and grabbed another thumbtack from your outstretched hand, “I mean, he’s not even the legal age to run.”

You and Logan were working on hanging streamers along the foyer ceiling. It was a day before the “election,” and most of the common areas had been decorated like they were taken from an American Dream magazine. Balloons, big banners saying “FLOOF,” party hats, and posters all bearing the red, white, and blue. It had definitely taken some convincing of Charles. Getting the Brit to yankee-fy his home was like getting Logan to let Floof in his lap.

“You’re Canadian. How do you know U.S. election law?” you asked. That earned a huff from Logan as he stuck the thumbtack through the blue streamer in his hands.

“I’ve been living in America longer than I did in Canada, doll. I’m practically a citizen,” he replied. He pushed on the thumbtack to ensure it was secure, then reached down for another. Floof, the electoral candidate himself, rubbed on your calf.

“Did you take the test?” you asked jokingly. Logan took the thumbtack from you, cocking an eyebrow at your question.

“What kinda test?” he responded. You breathed a laugh. Floof started pawing at your pant leg. You took the hint, scooping the kitten around the middle and holding him to your chest.

“The test to become a citizen,” you said. Logan rolled his eyes as he stuck the thumbtack through the streamer.

“Fuck no. Did the cat take the test?”

“He was born on US soil. He doesn’t need to,” you answered. The cat in question rubbed its chin on your fingers scratching at its neck. Vigorous purrs vibrated against your chest.

“I think he should take it if he wants to be president,” Logan said. You shifted your fingers to scratch at Floof’s pointed ears.

“And what exactly would be on a cat’s U.S. citizenship test?” you asked, laughing at the absurdity of this conversation. Logan grabbed another thumbtack.

“English comprehension, for one,” he said easily. You snorted, the noise disturbing the buzzing kitten in your arms. Floof looked up at you through squinted, blue eyes.

“Maow?”

“I think he comprehends English just fine,” you said, resuming your calming strokes on the kitten’s fluffy body. It seemed your disturbance was forgiven, the purrs resuming their intensity. Logan sighed.

“Is that so? Why don’t you ask him about his policies?” he suggested. The rest of the streamer was out of arm’s reach from his current position. He started climbing down the ladder, boots clanging on the metal rungs.

“That’ll have to wait for the debate tonight,” you said. Logan grabbed the ladder and moved a few feet towards the other end of the foyer. You shadowed behind him, both Floof and the box of thumbtacks in your arms.

“Who the fuck is debating against the cat?” Logan asked as he set the ladder down. You set Floof back on the floor to continue handing Logan thumbtacks from their plastic box. An annoyed trill came from the gray fuzzball.

“You are, Lo, if you keep it up,” you said. Logan glared at you, then climbed back up the ladder. He grabbed the limp, blue streamer and held it against the ceiling, reaching down for a thumbtack. You placed the brass pin in his palm, “Just imagine, two cats debating each other on their ideas of the flow of commerce. I’m sure it would be absolutely riveting.”

“I’m not a- you know what? I’m not gonna respond to that anymore. You clearly enjoy annoying me too much,” Logan grumbled. A wide, evil grin overtook your relaxed smile.

“Took you long enough,” Storm said from behind you. The white-haired, brown-eyed woman stepped up next to you, her arms folded across her blue blouse. You met her amused smirk, then you both looked back up to Logan above you, “We’ve been waiting for you to give in since the beginning.”

“Beating a man into submission. How forward-thinking of you,” Logan said snarkily. Floof trotted over to the ladder and sat beneath where Logan stood. The kitten’s tail flicked back and forth along the wooden floor.

“Not so much ‘beating’ as getting you to see sense,” Storm replied. You snickered, digging in the box for another thumbtack, as Logan used his freehand to show Storm his middle finger.

~~~2 months later~~~

“Why are you feeding him that shit? It’ll make his fur all shaggy,” Logan called from his place at the breakfast table. Snow frosted on the window behind him, flakes steadily falling and glowing orange in the setting sun.

A collection of snowmen sat on the fish pond’s bank. The little sculptures were a variety of shapes and sizes. Some being your stereotypical circular snowmen, others taking the shape of dragons or horses. The results of the art class you held outside yesterday.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, red glasses looking between Logan and Floof’s food bowl. He wore a yellow, wool sweater and brown slacks that complimented his cropped dark hair. He held a bag of store-brand kibble above the empty bowl.

“That knockoff bullshit ain’t good for longhaired cats, genius,” Logan said. He was leaning on his elbow propped on the oak breakfast table. That morning’s paper sat ignored next to his third coffee of the day.

You sat across from him with Floof in your lap. One hand used to stroke along the steadily growing kitten, the other grading essays on Leonardo DaVinci your students had written. Your own mug was filled with your favorite tea.

“Why do you know so much about cat food?” Scott retorted. He set the crinkling bag of kibble back on the blue-tiled counter and faced Logan, hands finding their usual place on his hips.

“Look, all I know is that when you feed him that shit, he needs way more brushing than usual,” Logan explained, gesturing to the purring, gray fuzzball in your lap. Floof blinked slowly at Logan from across the table. You rested your chin in the hand you were petting Floof with, using your fingers to hide your growing smile.

“Well, it’s not like you’re the one doing the brushing,” Scott said indicatively.

A few moments of silence filled the kitchen. The cuckoo clock hung above the sink ticked the seconds away. You looked at Logan with a knowing grin. Scott’s incredulous frown morphed into an ecstatic smile.

“Holy shit, you do brush him!” he exclaimed.

“Vampire’s usually busy with class!” Logan replied quickly, voice coming out frantic and desperate. You couldn’t hide the laughs that leaked through your fingers. Scott doubled over as he guffawed at Logan’s response.

“You-You brush the cat!” Scott wheezed, voice echoing from below the counter. Logan grumbled under his breath at both you and Scott, the two of you laughing like madmen. He grabbed the newspaper and opened it.

“Whatever,” he groused, pretending to ignore the cackles bouncing around him.

Floof took offense to your shaking chest and slipped off your lap. His bell jingled as he crossed under the table to Logan, finding the grumpy man to be a much better spot to curl up. Your and Scott’s snickers were given new life when Floof hopped up and into Logan’s lap. Peals of roaring laughter, especially from Scott, surrounded Logan.

“Fuck you. Both of you,” he said. A tiny, gray paw patted at the air by Logan’s neck. Logan sighed, lowering a hand to scritch under Floof’s chin, “I don’t get any respect around here. Do I, bub?”

~~~4 months later~~~

It was a complete shock to everyone, the day you found out that Floof was a mutant. The cat had been growing at a healthy rate. Food was readily supplied, a never ending stream of affection followed the cat like a shadow, and a large number of toys were spread throughout the mansion.

So when Floof had walked behind your chair leg and appeared next to Logan in the doorway, all hell broke loose.

Hank and Jean had run tests on Floof’s blood to see if they could find the presence of an active X-gene. Drawing his blood, under the very close watch of Logan, and running it through their typical series of tests that all turned up positive.

It was difficult for them to get any scans, x-ray or otherwise, of the cat as at the first clang or shudder of a machine, he’d appear upstairs or in the next room over.

“Damn thing just won’t stay still!” Hank exclaimed, blue fur frazzled and yellow eyes wide. His white lab coat was in a state of disarray you had never seen before. Jean sat on her office chair behind the lab’s computer. Her red hair was tied up in a loose bun, brown eyes scanning across the computer screen, lab coat perfect as always.

“You’re scaring him, asshole,” Logan said. He was leaning on a silver wall in the lab. Arms folded across his chest, leg crossed over the other, typical frown across his lips. This time, Floof had disappeared from being in the x-ray machine and appeared behind Logan’s legs. Logan stooped down to pick up the frightened cat.

“Then what do you suggest, o’ cat whisperer?” Hank asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. He rolled up his coat sleeves, white fabric bunching around his blue arms, as he reset the x-ray machine for the third time.

“I could sit in the machine with him,” you suggested. Both Hank and Logan’s gaze fell to you. You sat across the desk from Jean. You had been watching the whole exchange with a great deal of amusement. Hank sighed, lifting his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe, it’ll work,” he said. He replaced his glasses and gestured to Logan, “Lord knows this one’ll throw off the readings too much.”

Logan glared at Hank, hands buried in Floof’s long, gray fur. You stood from your chair and circled around the x-ray machine to Logan.

When you were met with hesitation from your partner, you paused. Logan’s dark brows were knit together, frown deepening across his lips, arms holding Floof tighter to his chest. You placed your hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, he’ll be ok. It’s just some scans. And I’ll be right there with him,” you soothed. Logan puffed a gust of air from his scowl, the action rustling the fur on Floof’s head. The cat looked up at Logan with wide, blue eyes.

“I’ll make sure they’re quick,” Jean called from where she sat. You used the hand on Logan’s shoulder to massage soothing circles into the muscle.

Logan sighed, posture drooping, as he said, “Fine. But if he teleports one more time, that’s it. No more for today.”

“Of course, Lo,” you said. You gave him a reassuring smile. You knew all these tests were getting to him. Watching Floof get stressed over the large machinery and sharp needles reminded Logan too much of his past. Well, the parts he could remember.

You tucked your hands between Floof and Logan, fingers running across long fur and flannel alike, and you pulled Floof against your chest. The usual intense purring that would buzz from Floof’s abdomen was nonexistent. You smiled again at Logan, who returned a smirk that didn’t meet his eyes, then turned to Hank.

“I’ll need you to lay down on the table. The cat, or… Floof, will sit in your lap. You’ll have to be very still, or you’ll throw off the scans,” Hank instructed. You nodded in response, approaching the x-ray machine. As you sat on the metal table you could feel Floof’s heartbeat speed up.

“Shhh, baby. It’s alright,” you cooed, lips pressed into the short hairs on top of Floof’s head. Floof rubbed his head against your chin. A small “mrraow” accompanied a few licks on your neck.

You felt every single eye in the room on you, especially Logan’s, as you laid down on the table. Floof settled into the crook of your legs, feet tucked under his chest and tail wrapped around his paws. The epitome of a fluffy loaf. You ran your fingers across his back a few times.

“Alright. Try not to move,” Hank said, grabbing the handles at the foot of the table. You gave Floof one last scritch under the chin then placed your hands at your sides. Floof kept his eyes on you as both of you were pushed under the x-ray machine.

You ended up inside a long, metal tube. Lights lining the white metal started blinking on, one by one. Blue light filled your vision. You glanced down at Floof, who was still staring up at you. You slowly blinked back at him.

“Everything alright in there?” you heard Logan ask. His low voice ricocheted around inside the metal tube.

“Yup. So far, so good,” you replied. Floof was sitting perfectly still in your lap. You continued to slow-blink at him.

“About to take the first set of scans. Keep him still,” Hank called from the other end of the machine. You hummed in response.

A low whirring kicked on along the entirety of the tube. Floof’s pointed ears flattened against his head.

“You’re okay, we’re okay,” you said calmly. Your continued slow-blinking and soothing voice seemed to be working wonders. Other than his ears, which were now back to pointing towards you, he had remained perfectly still. There was a louder ca-chunk that slightly rattled the table near your stomach and made Floof flinch.

“That’s his top half done. How’s it looking, Jean?” Hank said.

“Looks perfect. Keep doing what you’re doing, vampire,” Jean replied.

Floof remained perfectly still as the whirring picked up again by your knees. Ears perked up at you, blue eyes slowly blinking, claws only slightly digging into your jeans. The second ca-chunk didn’t even phase the cat. He just continued to stare at you. You could even feel the purrs building in his chest.

“Okay, got what I need! Go ahead and pull ‘em out, Hank,” Jean said. The blue lights surrounding you blinked off in sync as you felt the foot of the table rattle again.

The lights of the lab were nearly blinding when you emerged from the x-ray machine. You used one hand to shield your eyes while the other stroked along Floof’s back.

Logan was at your side in an instant. He scooped Floof into his arms and cradled the cat to his chest. Fingers scritching under Floof’s chin, nose buried in the fur on Floof’s back. Seemed the whole ordeal affected Logan more than you thought. You ran a reassuring hand along Logan’s arm.

“Why don’t you two head on upstairs? I’ve got it covered from here,” you said lowly. Logan gave you a once over, nodded, then carried the ball of fur in his arms out of the lab.

You sighed as you sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the table. Your eyes met Jean’s confused expression.

“Alkali,” was all you said. Jean quietly said “oh,” then turned her attention back to the computer. You pushed yourself off the table and moved to look over Jean’s shoulder, “Anything standing out?”

“Well, for one, you have horrible bone density,” Jean replied. You gave her arm a light smack. Jean laughed at your response, then continued, “Nothing in his skeletal structure is off. All of his joints are connected where they should be, cartilage is intact, nothing’s broken.”

“So his mutation isn’t physical?” you asked. Jean shook her head while biting her lower lip.

“We’d have to do an MRI on his brain to tell for certain. But, as far as I can tell, he’s like me and Kurt,” she explained. You heard Hank scoff behind you.

“More similar to Kurt, I’d say. Both him and the cat are awful to analyze,” he said, laughing without humor. You turned to look at him, arms folding across your chest.

“At least Floof does it because he’s scared. Kurt does it to piss you off,” you said. Hank grumbled under his breath at that, seeming to recount all of the failed exams he’d given the Nightcrawler over the years. You chuckled at his disgruntled reaction.

“We should be good, vampire. Go check on Logan for me,” Jean said, drawing your attention away from Hank. You gave her a pat on the shoulder, then followed Logan’s path out of the lab.

The jarring difference between the basement and the mansion itself would be alarming to anyone who hadn’t spent decades living there.

In the mansion, warm wood and plush furniture could be found in every room. Golden sunlight filtered in through grand windows, vibrant green plants in colorful pots decorated shelves and tables, beautiful paintings and cheerful pictures were hung on every available wall.

In the basement, however, steel lined everything. Chrome ceilings, chrome floors, chrome doors, even chrome furniture constructed the entire basement. High-tech gadgets, like state of the art computers and medical equipment, were reserved to be specifically used in the basement’s lab. Giant, metal doors hid training rooms and simulation areas the older students would utilize. And, what was often sought after and coveted, lay behind a door with a large, chrome x on it.

Cerebro. A circular room with a single, metal console in its center. An array of switches and buttons were embedded in the console. Wires ran to and from the console’s base and the platform it stood on. Sitting on its pedestal was the helmet Charles would put on when he used Cerebro. Metal rods and wires protruding from a chrome cap that glowed blue when in use.

Just beyond Cerebro’s door is where you saw Charles. His mechanical wheelchair whirred as he directed himself into the open room.

“Hey professor,” you said as you passed. Charles looked over his shoulder at you and smiled.

“Hello, my dear. I was just about to do the monthly search. Care to join?” he asked. He spun his wheelchair in place so he could face you. He wore a clean, blue suit and a pale yellow tie. His shiny, black shoes reflected the artificial white light that gleamed from lights set in the ceiling.

“I’d love to,” you replied. Your shoes clicked along the polished, chrome floor as you walked up to where Charles’s wheelchair sat. The hand resting on the chair’s joystick moved, spinning the chair to face into Cerebro, then matched your pace as you walked through the huge doors.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about Logan,” Charles said, reading your mind like always. He didn’t do it out of malice or ill-intent. It was just second nature for him to hear the runaway thoughts of those around him. His bright, blue eyes peered up at you as you walked across the suspended platform, “Memories of Alkali always tend to make him anxious. Just give him time.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. Small, white lights on the sides of the platform flicked on as you and Charles walked further into the room. The enormous, paneled sphere that constructed Cerebro bounced the light all around you, giving the space a pleasant glow.

You stopped just behind Charles as he rolled up to the console. You watched as he fiddled with a few switches and buttons, none of it making sense to you, before he looked back at you again.

“You know the drill. No moving,” he said through a kind smile. You gave him two thumbs-up, which made him chuckle, then clasped your hands together in front of you.

Charles turned back to the console and lifted the helmet. The chrome glinted in the soft, white light, throwing strange reflections onto his aged face. He raised the helmet above his head, wires stretched near their limit, before he set the chrome cap around his head.

In an instant, the room around you melted away into an endless space of darkness. Clouds of black ink flooded your vision, the entire white room overtaken by a midnight sky. White dots started sprouting up amongst the darkness. First one, then ten, then millions and millions lit up the blackness until they formed constellations in the shape of the world’s continents.

Everytime you got the chance to see Cerebro in action, it took your breath away. Watching as Charles connected with every human’s mind on earth was nothing short of incredible. Brief visions of people all over the world floated past in glowing apparitions. Ghosts showing glimpses into peoples’ lives flying by in rapid succession.

Red overtook the white as Charles focused on specifically mutants. Crimson stars blinked in the dark, taking up significantly less of the night’s sky than the humans’ white spots did.

The visions flying past were now drenched in a red glow. One showing a girl, no older than three, playing with a barbie doll. Another showing a teenage boy flirting with a classmate.

Two silhouettes stood out amongst the chaos. Both female, both older in their teenagehood, but looking nothing alike.

The first was a taller girl. Hair smoothed back into a ponytail, arms as thick as tree trunks, skin reflecting light like a cluster of diamonds. A whisper of “Lindsay” from Charles gave a name to the face. Her apparition floated back amongst the constellations to land somewhere in New Zealand.

The second was a girl sitting on a rooftop. Her skin was coated in shimmering scales, eyes slitted like a snake’s, bat-like wings protruding from her back. She was curled up next to a gargoyle, surveying the city below her. “Brooke” was the name Charles said, then her image floated away and landed in Utah.

The red dots were snuffed as streaks of darkness flew through the air. Like coffee under a paper towel, the black ink overtaking the room disappeared into the console. Charles tucked his fingers under his helmet and placed it back on its pedestal.

“Right. Two new mutants. One in Utah, the other in New Zealand,” he said. He turned his chair around to face you again. A hopeful, gleeful look was painted across his face like a work of art, “I’ll send Scott and Storm to fetch them. In the meantime, have Jean drum up some high-strength pain reliever. Lindsay seems to have a migraine problem.”

“On it,” you replied, your own grin growing to match his. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and texted the details to Jean, following after Charles as he exited Cerebro.

“Two more students. Ah, I can’t wait! I have a feeling Vienna and Brooke will get along quite well. Not to mention how Crys and Daniel will take to someone like them when Lindsay arrives,” Charles said cheerfully. With the message sent, you stowed your phone in your pocket and focused on the professor. He continued to ramble on about the interactions he predicted to happen between the new and current students. You listened intently, fondness filling your chest like a warm breath.

The two of you entered the circular elevator, with cream-colored walls and a yellow light set in the ceiling, as Charles spoke. You felt the floor lurch as the elevator started to climb up to the mansion.

“Both Brooke and Lindsay seemed to be rather talented writers. Hopefully they’ll like the creative writing club. Oh, and they should enjoy the book club, too,” he said. The elevator door slid open to reveal the mansion’s first floor.

Kurt, the blue-skinned and long-tailed teleporter, threw you and the professor a wave as he passed by. Several textbooks about religious studies were clutched in his clawed hands. You gave him a wide grin and a wave of your own.

“Afternoon, Kurt,” Charles chirped, smiling fondly at the German as the two of you passed by. A quiet “afternoon!” followed you and the professor as you walked toward the west wing of the mansion. You trailed after Charles for a few more paces.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’m gonna go check on Logan,” you said. You paused in the middle of the long, windowed hallway you and Charles occupied. He gave you a nod.

“Yes, please do. Give him my best,” Charles said. You gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, his wrinkled hand patting on the back of yours, before you made your way to the staircase in the foyer.

Several students greeted you as you walked through the mansion. Christopher, a dark-haired brainiac, and Josh, a brown-eyed boy with two extra arms, said a brief “hi!” before returning to the scattered chemistry homework in front of them. Mads, the short-haired plant bender, waved at you from where she knelt next to a plant with withering leaves. A subtle, green glow emanated from her palms as life was pumped back into the monstera.

While climbing up the grand staircase you noticed one of Floof’s campaign posters still pinned to the wall. Wide eyes stared out of a red, white, and blue drawing. You smirked, remembering how much the whole thing had annoyed Logan.

Rogue and Bobby gave you a brief greeting as you passed on the landing between opposing stairs. They continued down the carpeted staircase you had just climbed as they discussed seeing a movie together later that week.

When you reached your and Logan’s room, the third door on the left, you noticed it was firmly shut. Thinking it strange, you turned the brass knob and swung open the wooden door.

“Maaaooowww!” Floof yelled from where he sat next to the door. He gave your leg a quick sniff, then darted between your legs and into the hall behind you.

Perplexed, you looked at Logan. He was sitting on your shared bed. Arms crossed over his chest, boots kicked off next to the bed, eyes closed as calming piano played from his phone’s speakers.

You slowly latched the door shut behind you, toeing off your shoes, and climbed into bed next to him. A rough grunt met the jostling of the mattress. You sat next to Logan, your back leaning on the wooden headboard.

You let silence hang in the air, only disturbed by the light song playing from the nightstand. When Logan got like this, stuck in his own mind, it was best to let him take things at his own pace. If you moved too fast he’d completely shut down. Which, having known him for at least two decades at this point, was something you could easily maneuver around.

After a few minutes you felt a rustle next to you. Logan’s arms uncrossed from his chest, eyes still closed, as the hand closest to you fitted into yours. You tangled your fingers with his. A few more moments passed, then you felt the weight of Logan’s head on your shoulder.

You pressed a soft kiss into his hair. He hummed in response, rubbing his cheek along the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“Doing alright?” you whispered. Another minute passed, piano filling the room.

“Yeah,” Logan mumbled. The hand not clutched in yours was thrown across your waist. He pulled you against his body, face buried in the crook of your neck, “Yeah, now I am.”

You let your fingers nestle in the short hairs along his neck. Soft, soothing strokes along his skin that left him practically purring against you.

“All the stuff with Floof dredge something up?” you asked. A beat, then Logan nodded against your shoulder.

“Medical stuff, ya know? It’s just… A lot,” Logan explained. He squeezed you tighter against his chest. You gave the crown of his head another gentle kiss.

“Take your time, Lo,” you breathed. You tracked the deep inhales that filled Logan’s chest and the smooth glide of his cheek on your shoulder. Good. Didn’t seem like a panic attack was brewing.

The two of you sat on the bed, cuddled against each other, light piano playing around you for another couple minutes. Calm, still settings like this were the best for when Logan was struggling with his past, you’d found. Breathing with him, gentle touches, and reaffirming words helped keep him grounded in the present.

You started chattering quietly about what the scans had shown. That nothing seemed abnormal about Floof, that the teleportation must stem from his brain, and that you apparently had low bone density. That sparked a brief chuckle from Logan’s chest.

After about an hour of the two of you huddled together, a light scratching came from the bedroom door. You sighed, head rolling back and thonking on the wooden headboard.

“Frickin’ cat,” you murmured under your breath. Logan reluctantly untangled his limbs from yours. He leaned back against the headboard, hazel eyes opening and looking at you.

“You wanted him,” he said, an amused grin growing on his lips. You groaned, pushing yourself off the bed and walking over to the door.

When you pulled it open, a gray and white furry bullet shot into the room. A chorus of indignant meows overshadowed the music coming from Logan’s phone. You scooped up the annoyed cat and moved back to the bed. Floof’s distinct, intense purrs rumbled against your chest.

“Hey, bub,” Logan said when you sat next to him. Floof squirmed in your arms until you finally released him, then the little shit jumped into Logan’s lap. Your mouth gaped open.

“Fucking traitor,” you gasped. Your despair was ignored as Floof circled himself a few times, paws kneading into Logan’s jeans, then curled up in Logan’s lap. Logan scritched under Floof’s chin.

“Sorry, doll. Guess he’s picked a side,” Logan said, cocky grin plastered on his stupid face. You huffed while curling your knees against your chest and thumping your chin on top.

“You’re lucky I love you, ya jerk. Or else I’d be fighting for that cat’s honor,” you grumbled. Logan laughed, the deep sound bouncing out of his mouth like a large bell.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight. You’d win,” he said. Floof nuzzled into Logan’s palm, purring so strong you could feel it in your chest. You let your head fall onto Logan’s shoulder. You felt his cheek rub against your hair.

“Nah,” you said. You looked between Logan and Floof. Matching ears and hair tufts, smiling eyes filled with adoration, purrs and happy hums coming from both of them. Your initial grumpiness was overshadowed by a deep-seated adoration for the two of them, “You would.”

~~~~6 months later~~~

You stood in your and Logan’s shared room. Warm, wooden panels covered the walls decorated in landscape paintings. A black cat tree, about four-feet tall, sat in front of one of the windows by your bed. The pale green curtains were drawn just enough so only a sliver was left open for Floof, who enjoyed sitting on the top platform and watching the flying birds and bugs.

The rustling of clothes, caused by your rummaging, disturbed the peace in the room. You were digging around amongst Logan’s folded shirts in the wardrobe’s drawers. A white t-shirt sat on top of the wardrobe. Bold, black print reading “#1 Cat Dad” sat in the center front of the t-shirt, along with an image of Floof surrounded by a large, red heart.

You slipped the t-shirt amongst the space you had made in the drawer then slid the wooden compartment closed. Confident in how well you hid the new article of clothing, you took a look around the room.

Pictures of you, Logan, and Floof sat on every available surface. Earlier pictures featured a frowning and distant Logan, who was uncomfortable being in a picture with the young kitten. But, as Floof got older, Logan was seen in more and more pictures with him. The two of them cuddling on the couch, Floof curled up on a sleeping Logan’s chest in bed, Logan holding Floof up like Simba in the Lion King.

A fond smile graced your lips. The man you loved most, an unerring grump, really did have a soft spot. Him and Floof had grown inseparable. When Logan walked into a room, the now full-sized, fluffy, gray cat was sure to follow. Whenever Floof needed to visit a vet, Logan was the one to take him. If Logan were to leave for a mission, Floof would consistently yell the entire time his pal was gone.

Several footsteps passing by your open door drew your attention from the pictures. You looked into the hallway at what had caused the noise.

Logan, hair styled in the classic two tufts, had Floof perched on his shoulder. The adult cat was draped over Logan’s flannel-covered back like a fluffy scarf. The pair reminded you of a mountain lion perched on a tall cliff.

Logan threw you a grin and a quick wave. You smiled, waving back, as your vision shifted to the swarm of children following Logan. Eyes wide with adoration for Floof, toothy grins on each child’s face, giggles exchanged between students.

As the crowd passed by, the long-haired cat meeting your eyes and letting out a soft “mraow,” it was hard to believe that there was a time when Logan had said “no fucking way” to Floof.

once again, so much love to the murdock tuna team!! you all fill me with so much joy on a daily basis. i'm so incredibly thankful to each and every one of you :) also, here's what the Floof 2024 posters look like

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#wolverine #logan howlett #hugh jackman #xmen #wolverine fanfic #logan howlett fanfic #xmen fanfic #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #fem!reader #murdock tuna team #i seriously love the tuna team so much #they consistently inspire me every fucking day

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rellsingsovern · 6 months ago

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In my notes during this whole season I’ve kept track of loose ends and just other plot points I think could make for a great senior year (which now seems likely that we will get down the line in the future) and this finale gave me almost everything I wanted and more so here’s what I think we’re gonna see (plus things that I just rly want to see lol)

-first and foremost, BARON IS STILL IN RIZ’S BRIEFCASE!!! the spectral mordred manor probably is not there as that was a haven sent out by cassandra during all the divine interventions in falinell and the bad kids dove in as a last second decision, but baron is still definitely there. ‘I am somewhere always close to Riz Gukgak’ and while everyone’s journey with their sexuality happens on their own time and Riz shouldn’t have to come out if he doesn’t want to yet, now that he’s coming to terms that his friends might not always be together in the way he wants to I think it would be healing for him to fully confront and accept his aro aceness and have support with that and realize that even if they can’t be physically together his friends won’t leave him for other relationships

-Fabian is getting a new baby sibling, but that is not the only sibling he’s ever had. James Whitlaw made references to his half siblings from Bill that he killed and ate, I am POSITIVE that at least one is still out there and probably has it out for Fabian (as Bill married Hallariel, raised Fabian, and dragged his ship into solace to give him a new life) and an arc where Fabian has to defend himself against an older sibling while growing to love his younger would be amazing to see

-kalina, bakarath, bobby, and buddy ofc, I’ve been wondering where kalina has been this whole time, and I want to see more of bobby getting what he deserves. Cassandra’s been through a fucking lot this season but her familiar apparently might be a big bad along with arianwen again so sorry cass but the cat’s gotta go. she still directly got pok killed riz deserves to hunt her down and avenge him a second time

-speaking of, Arianwens been making moves in sylvaire! Adaine and aelwyn will surely kill her but from the looks of it even though she got her magic taken away she may have some sort of power. Cant wait for these sisters to be able to live immortal lives without their parents looming over them

-BUCKY APPLEBEES!! bucky, a paladin of cassandra, gathering the courage to ask Kristin for help getting bricker and cork out of the Applebees residence, maybe moving into mordred and everyone immediately being enamored with these cute little boys who honestly might turn out to be mumple instead of wanting to attend the adventuring academy and Kristin being so happy they aren’t being raised in a pressure cooker anymore and affected like she and bucky were affected, happy that they can be normal kids (and in being around Kristin’s other sisters, adaine and fig, Kristin ends up getting that sister she always wanted in bucky too)

-I’m so happy Fig is getting what she wants and realizing she doesn’t want to finish Aguefort, and it would be awesome if she got a new character and the bad kids took on a new party member for the year played by Emily so all the intrepid heroes are still together, but Fig could be hanging out between mordred and Seacaster and leviathan and Hell, writing music and helping Kristin spread word of the cassandra/Ankarna pantheon through it, and since in sophomore year we saw Penelope dayne daybreak and Johnny spells all kicking it in hell maybe Jace (who ik was a minion mostly but hey he could be evil on his own) is down there with some other bad kid nemeses

-more Galicea and Sol. Sol canonically was all for bringing Ankarna into the pantheon of himself, his sister galicea, his other sister cassandra, and his son helio. It was Sol’s followers who saw Ankarna brought in as another god of the sun and brought about the ruin and corruption of Ankarna alongside the house of sunstone in order to get more power for themselves with just the one solar deity existing. Both Sol and Galicea (and maybe helio) have been hardcore shaped by their followers, Galiceas wolfish side being repressed by the high elf state of falinell and being brought back through wolfsong, and Sol with the human clerics of highcourt scheming to make him the only god with a sun domain despite him officiating and welcoming Ankarna as his sister in law through the marriage. Plus if we get galicea arcs we defo get Kristin and tracker messy lesbians arcs

-Gorgug perfecting his new subclass he invented and Kristin enjoying being student body president! She deserves it, I hc that the only academic sort of thing Kristin cared about before this year was the lgbtq+ club and now she’s extending that energy into everything with the help of Riz, who cannot get off of coffee someone help this poor boy. And since Ragh and shellford have graduated I want more Torek Railgrinder, she’s so cool let’s flesh her out more. Gorgug thinking about how to teach other multiclass barbarian/artificers and perfecting all his awesome inventions (and dating both Unit and Mary Ann bc it’s what his poly ass deserves)

Basically the potential plot I see for senior year is almost a mirror of sophomore year: baron getting out and fighting Riz and the bad kids defeating him for good, the bad kids heading to leviathan after hearing rumors of a pirate calling themselves a child of Bill Seacaster looking for Fabian, heading to falinell to see what’s new with wolfsong and tracker and maybe seeing some changes in Galicea or Sol, heading to hell and meeting up with Fig for a portion (she doesn’t go to their school anymore! she ain’t gotta go on this senior year spring break quest!) who’s been hanging out in hell, tracking Jace and other enemies, establishing her power as an archdevil of the first layer of hell, writing awesome music, and finally back to sylvaire to figure out what the fuck is up with kalina and arianwen and this weird new god buddy has and they all graduate and head their separate ways but they still love each other and see each other all the time they’re family and they’re badass and they’re perfect

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sen-ya · 6 months ago

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part 5/7

is it silly that this is my favorite in this series? i really enjoyed writing kaya and I wanna do it again at some point :')

[op comic masterpost]

[pg1] panel 2: Kaya: Oh! Dr. Law! I didn't expect to find you in our library.

panel 3: Law: K-Kaya-ya!

panel 4: Law: Uh. Ahem. Excuse me. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your books.

panel 5: Kaya: Oh of course not! I'm just shocked to hear we have books you don't! What are you studying?

panel 6: Law: UHHHHH

[pg2] panel 10: Kaya: Oh! Is someone on your crew pregnant? Ikkaku??

panel 11: Law (thinking): She doesn't know Ikkaku is trans. Does she not know that I am?? I just assumed Nose-ya would have mentioned it. But that makes sense. If Straw Hat didn't already know Nose-ya was trans it's not like I would have told him.

panel 12: Kaya: ...?

panel 13: Law (thinking): Fuck, I've been quiet too long. I can't throw Ikkaku under to bus. Just say something.

panel 14: Law: No. Kaya: Oh. Then why...? Law (thinking): Wait, shit

[pg3] panel 15: Law: My, uh...brother...'s...wife. Yeah, we're taking him back to Zou soon...because his wife is pregnant...and I...want...to help...?

panel 16: Kaya: Oh, how sweet! Congrats "Uncle Law" hehe. If you have any questions I could help with let me know!! I specialized in traumatic injury, but I did deliver a few babies in Syrup Village! On smaller islands like that you wear a lot of hats.

panel 17: Law: And you've...been pregnant. Kaya: Well, yeah, but I wasn't my own doctor! Could you imagine if I had tried to deliver the twins myself? Even a doctor needs a doctor, you know that.

panel 18: Law: ...right.

panel 19: Law: ...what...what was it like?

panel 20: Kaya: Oh, my pregnant patients were actually pretty fun! I suppose it makes sense that as a pirate ship doctor you wouldn't have had to know obstetrics. But it was always so lovely to hand a parent their--

[pg4] panel 21: Kaya: ...newborn...baby...?

panel 23: Kaya: ...I'm sorry, Dr. Law. If there's context I need you'll have to give it to me. I'm not good at guessing.

panel 24: Law: What do you mean, I just gave you context. Kaya: With all due respect, you're full crying. It's a new sight for me!

panel 25: Kaya: You can tell me what's going on! I'm told I'm a very good listener

panel 26: Law: ...You Straw Hats sure are a pain Kaya: Sorry, hehe

panel 28: Law: ...I...ahem...so number one, if you didn't know...I'm...I'm trans.

panel 29: Law: But not like your husband. He got the works from Ivankov-ya...I never felt the need to seek that out.

[pg5] panel 30: Kaya: ...I see

panel 31: Kaya: How far along are you? Law: ..12 weeks, give or take. Kaya: Well, I've provided obstetric care of all kinds. So whatever questions you're researching here...why don't you ask me instead of being your own doctor?

panel 32: Law: ...Same question. What was it like?

panel 33: Kaya: Being pregnant was a horror show!

panel 34: Law: A glowing review. Kaya: Oh, sorry! I can lie if you'd prefer!

panel 35: Kaya: I was just so sick my first trimester! Law (speaking over her): KAYA-YA I THOUGHT I WAS DYING FOR TWO WEEKS WHEN WILL IT STOP I CAN ONLY EAT RICE.

panel 36: Kaya: It's different for everyone. By the end it wasn't quite so bad for me, though. And I love my kids so much. They were such cute newborns!! So I was alright being uncomfortable for awhile. Because that's what we wanted, you know?

panel 37: Kaya (off screen): What do you and Luffy want, Dr. Law?

[pg6] panel 38: Law: ...We haven't decided yet. We're giving it to the end of the week. I'm trying to think about it rationally. But I just keep getting emotional any time I talk about it. It's strange.

panel 39: Kaya: An emotional decision and a bad decision aren't inherently synonymous, you know.

panel 40: Law: ...your bedside manner is impeccable, Dr. Kaya-ya. Kaya: Well, thank you! Next time let's meet in the infirmary, mine or yours.

panel 41: Kaya: I'll be your doctor through this, okay?

panel 42: Law: ...Okay...Thank you. Kaya: Of course!

#my art #lawlu #law x luffy #luffy x law #lulaw #cw dysphoria #cw unplanned pregnancy #cw implied discussion of abortion

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rexscanonwife · 5 months ago

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🌈 Welcome to WLWeek 2024 🌈

Hello everyone, I wanted to put together a nice, low-pressure event dedicated to my fellow wlw self shippers for one week of June because it's pride month, babey!! This is the first time I've ever tried to 'organize' an event, so take it easy on me, I'll try to be as communicative as possible and if anyone has questions about it, asks and DMs are always open!

On to the details! Its gonna last from Monday the 10th through Friday the 14th, and anyone can opt in or out as they see fit! No one is obligated to participate throughout the entire week or from the beginning alone, just do what you feel like!

RULES:

NO PROSHIPPERS/COMSHIPPERS/NEUTRAL, all blogs with that will be blocked on sight!

Obviously don't participate if you're not wlw/not shipping with a female character

Lesbians, bisexual, pansexual, sapphic, and once again general wlw/nblw are welcome!

Essentially I am tolerating NO funny business, and I won't tolerate bullying either so everyone be very niceys and hey, try to support each other! 💖💖💖 now onto the prompt list

Monday June 10th: Favorite style/aesthetic-

draw you and your female f/o in your favorite clothing style (goth, Y2K, cottagecore, etc.) Or what you think their favorite style would be! alt. for writers, write a drabble about going shopping for these outfits with your f/o!

Tuesday June 11th: Morning routine -

draw you and your female f/o getting ready for the day. Who's the early riser and who's dragging them back into bed? alt. for writers, write an early morning cuddle session/chat.

Wednesday June 12th: Date night-

draw you and your female f/o on a date! Is it a dinner, a picnic? Are you guys dressed to the nines or at home in your jammies? Alt. for writers, write a date gone slightly awry. How do you fix things/compromise?

Thursday June 13th: Beach day-

it's summertime, draw you and your female f/o in beachwear and enjoying the sun and sand! alt. for writers, write out a nice dip in the ocean! Can you swim? Can your f/o? Does one have to teach the other? Is it nice and relaxed or does it dissolve into splash fighting?

Friday June 14th: Role/Ship Swap -

draw your f/o as the self shipper and you as the fictional character role they fill! What kind of s/i do they make? Would they write fanfic, draw fanart? Alt. for writers, write a gush post from ur f/o's point of view!

And that's it!! Do one of them, do all of them, or do none of them, it's your choice! I just wanted to show some love to my fellow wlw self shippers out there this month and so something fun for them!

Now if you got this far and you read the rules make sure to put 'great googly moogly' in the tags when u rb! And don't forget to tag my blog here when you write/draw for this event!!! 🫶🫶 everyone who does will get a rb from me and a little promo as well, and maybe even a follow cause I need more wlw mutuals :3

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therealslimshakespeare · 9 months ago

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Dear John || Pt.1

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Requested: ☑️ My sweet Bri begged for a love-letter-centric Egan fic and with her wonderfully infectious ideas this was produced, the first part of many.

Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters, he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways, tucked up in luxury in Beverly Hills with carts of tedious fanmail burned in her back yard each day, his letter will get lost in the mix. It’s harmless. That thought -and the booze- may loosen his pen a little too much but it’s alright, it’s not like she’ll read it. Right? Right.

It was specified in the request to use or create some of those old WWII dirty acronyms, so in here you have Bucky making up his own for his starlet crush (acorn). I’m ripping off a few ladies here, Lana Turner, Betty Grable, Hedy Lamarr to name a few -the moodbaord is for general aesthetics, I try to keep my fem!readers and oc’s as ambiguous physically as possible. (Besides the fact Johnny Egan finds you mouthwatering, which -be honest with yourself here sweet thing!!- he would.

Rating: 18+ this is the letter writing, vintage form of sexting. i kid you not, this man swings wildly from sweet as pie to downright filthy and vintage slang for anatomical parts is used freely. This would make a better shameful diary entry than a letter but he’s a rogue and he’s in a war, cut him some slack.

Fun game: how many times can Major Egan manage to mention Buck in a horny fan letter to his crush?

Dear A.C.O.R.N.

It is highly unlikely that you remember me, but, all the same, we have met. Now, hear me out, I’m sure fellas say that to you all the time but my point still stands and to match them I’ll do you one better, seeing as how I am not buttering you up for something in return -I have met you, yes, but I have also sung to you.

There. Said it.

Not that you’d recall that either, but then again maybe you would, but either way it doesn’t matter as the entire reason I am writing to you is because it is entirely unlikely you will ever open this god-awful endeavor made of pen and ink.

I am quite drunk, you see.

A necessary medicine. And they do make good whiskey here, one of the few joys they haven’t rationed yet. It’s got me wondering what’s your poison of choice. Something fruity? Or are you an olive sucker? Like that salt on the rim? Or maybe you go for somethin’ silky and warm goin’ down your throat? Which-ever it is, I bet you’d be a surprise, sweet ACORN, I just know it. You were a surprise at the canteen. Back in Jersey? Before shipping out? I know you were on a whole tour and kisses were goin’ for dollars but still, you were a surprise.

A lovely one, really. And that’s the point of this letter. To tell you that you're lovely and while I’m not the pen-pal sort, I’ve written home 80 letters tonight to families whose boys I was supposed to bring home. It got me thinking: Bucky, why the hell don’t you write nice letters? Whyd you only write ‘em now that you gotta? And it occurred to me then that the one silver lining in this whole Air Exec job is the desk, the lamp and the office.

I could write anybody from here. I could write you.

And you wouldn't read it so I could write anything. And it could be a nice letter. ‘Cause I don’t know anybody of yours to tell you anythin’ sad about them and you don’t know me except that I’m alive and drunk. Which is better than those poor eighty two bastards. Which reminds me, I’ve still got two more but maybe Buck will take those, he took seventeen off to his bunk to write from there. Buck doesn't have a desk because he’s not as important as me and he has all the luck.

You’ve met Buck, too, Acorn. He was the appalled pretty one with the straw colored hair pulling me off you after we had our duet. He objects to your nickname, see, even though you didn’t seem to mind. You were lovely, A.C.O.R.N. And I’d not wanna ruin this letter by telling you what it means, not now that I’m actually writing to you and determined to be nice but Buck knows and while he agrees with me as much as any man in the nation that you’ve got the most robust rack on the silver screen -he has objections, you see. So it wasn’t the song or the canoodling he didn’t like, and I still say, he broke up a little love affair that night. Bastard. So I’m writing to you now because as the acronym suggests, I’ve got a goal in my mind in regards to you. I tell myself -Bucky, there’s reasons to make it back.

Reasons, Bucky, reasons. Like Acorn and her halo of gorgeous hair that smelled like coconuts and the way she thought my new lyrics were pretty clever. That’s what you said, acorn, you said they were pretty clever. Now I may have been a little drunk then, too, but I think you might’ve been tipsy, that coke smelled too strong to be straight. I still have the straw you gave me, it’s bent to hell but I’ve taken it up each mission. I’m not counting on it for luck so much as a reminder of the aforementioned reasons. To come back. Your lipstick has mostly worn off but I figure it’s still the same.

You had your precious lips around it. That’s what matters.

And that’s the sorta sentence that makes Buck think I shouldn’t write letters.

But what he can’t accuse me of is being dishonest or vague. I’m being straight with you. You deserve that much, you were lovely and very straight shootin’ yourself, dear little girl. I could pinch your cheeks right now, you’re so sweet. And don’t think me a coward for sayin’ all this under assumption that you won’t read it. I hope you don’t since it’s not worth your time and if you do I wish I’d written less about me and more about you but I need you to know if we were face to face I’d say the same:

You were lovely, you ARE lovely!!!! and I think all your work for us boys is swell and you’ve got the bestest set of knockers any of us have ever seen and I’m stayin’ alive in hopes to see ‘em again some day and while the girls here are swell and sweet they aren’t zippy like you. At least not the ones who’ve put out so far. And if I had you face to face, I’d find a way to make you laugh again and I’d tell you to your face you’re lovely and if I’d been David Nivin in Love Trap with you, I’d have stayed in that little kitchen with you and ate all your burnt flapjacks and watched you in your apron and made babies with you till we were old.

Anyway. It needed saying. And maybe I’ll say it to your face given the chance again. I was working my way up to a proposition for burgers and milkshakes when Buck ruined it. But maybe you’ll tour? Here!! Over here. In England or maybe in Europe once we kick the Nazis bastards out.

Now that’s motivation. That’s a reason! -clear out a nice little swath of land through fortress europe so Miss Lana Tierney can sing in the city of lights surrounded by nothin’ but wine and good food and a buncha boys who love and appreciate her.

Because we do, ma’am. We do.

And make no mistake, I do this to keep the country safe and try to bring as many boys home as I can but every second I also think - it’s where you are too, and so I must continue keeping it safe.

If you, by some godawful chance, do read this letter, please don’t feel pressed to respond or pull out a restraining order. Think of it this way, it’d just be one more “Dear John” letter and the system is clogged as it is. You just deserve a nice letter and my wrist is past sore, one more doesn't matter. And being unable to deliver nice, I’ve written this.

~ I am ever your respectful (and hammered) admirer, Maj. John Egan

P.S. if you do happen to read this I’m sorry. Buck told me not to do this but I just had to Acorn. You’re just too swell and I really have got to get myself to a theater before long, I miss your Angel face.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! This was entirely out of my usual comfort zone but I’ve had fun writing it and I’m trying to tune my ear to pick up his voice, that’s been stretching. This series will have many letters in it but there will also be fic, so fear not. I’ve got some plans already figured out for this series but I do love a suggestion or ten so have at the inbox with what you’d like to see play out.

Hope you enjoyed, if you’d like to be tagged in future MOTA fics, drop a note below.

#masters of the air #callum turner #john egan #Major John Egan #Bucky Egan x reader #callum turner x reader #masters of the air fanfiction #mota fanfic #hbo war fanfic #Bucky Egan #mine #archive

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enemywasp · 6 months ago

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Alright so someone on tiktok sent me a link to a compiled list of arguments against proshippers and so I wanted to put a sort of brief response of my own thoughts of each point.

Long post warning!

"Proshippers are non-offending minor attracted people in a fresh paint of coat"

What a start, am I right? Okay so first off this is a huge generalisation, not every proshipper engages with or is even comfortable with anything that sexualises fictional children, or ships them with adults. And of those that do ship adult/minor ships, it doesn't always mean they're attracted to the character themselves or gains any sexual pleasure from that.

They then went on to say that although they might be non-offending, they still fantasise about and romanticise children- in the case of proshippers by creating art and stories. And I am not personally educated enough on how people's minds works to go in depth here, but I do know a lot of pedophilic thoughts can be intrusive and unwanted. And I would much rather people engage in this and deal with their thoughts through fiction where no actual children are harmed, than actually go touch a real child or engage is any form of CSEM.

“People can draw and ship whatever they want!”

Here they went on to say that surely to ship and create content you must justify these things in some capacity regardless of them being fictional. And immediately I'd argue, the justification it that they're fictional. And that sometimes you want to read about things you'd never approve of in real life, it's a natural curiosity. And again, regardless of what the dark content is I would take someone engaging in fiction over harming a real person any day.

They compared this to alt-right groups and dark humour justifying racism and transphobia, etc. And whilst I think something we should always be aware of in fiction is stereotypes and how we may be representing people. Youtube videos like this are usually a type of propaganda that AIM to change people's mindsets and turn them against groups. Whereas fiction tells a story, some may have meanings and connections to real life, be a political piece, etc. Not everything is that serious and has a clear distinction from reality.

Think for example, reading/watching about murder and gore. More on that in a second.

"Fiction doesn't affect reality!"

I'm going to be honest I rolled my eyes at this as their main example was slenderman. If you don't know about that, those girls were schizophrenic. Anything could of set off and caused delusions, it just so happened to be fiction. Those girls needed help- not to just read purer content. They also basically brought up propaganda again, which is again deliberate and designed to warp peoples perceptions. Its based of lying and spreading misinformation and passing it as facts. The only thing I strongly believe can be directly harmful is stereotypes if not handled with care. But I think that's something for anyone who writes and consumes content should be aware of regardless of their stances.

Again here they implied that all proshippers are peodophiles. And that they normalise abuse of children. I'd also like to point out that most proshippers I've interacted with online have age boundaries to avoid interacting with minors depending on how graphic or sexual their content is.

"What do you think all stories about murder should stop existing?"

Here they basically argued that killing in media isn't the same as its not romanticised or condoned. YA Novels disagree- mafia stories being the most immediate example to spring to mind. Furthermore, morally grey villains. One of my favourite films is Mr Right. It's about a hitman killing people. Anna kendrick falls in love with him and its framed as a romantic comedy. Funny how its only fanfiction that's criticised like this? I actually have more thoughts on this if anyones interested.

Again they bring up kids not knowing adults pursuing children is wrong, and I'm questioning why children this young are unsupervised on the Internet. How young were you when you were allowed to watch anything with graphic blood or violence? This content isn't made for kids! Especially not anyone so young they can't seperate fiction from reality as most sites have a specific age you have to be to join. And I'm sorry to say it, but on websites and social media where adults can interact with kids, anything can be used to groom kids. (The real thing you should be mad about here is how there's no websites aimed just for children and safe spaces on the Internet anymore cause it can't be monetised as easily)

"Artists are allowed to draw and write about dark people"

They basically said, yes but it's not the same as promoting. Writing something under a romantic light and not saying "Don't do at home!" Isn't promoting. No ones encouraging these things in real life. Or rather, if they are its not because they're a proshipper but rather who they are as a person and their intentions.

The trans example they used is very extreme and honestly something I agree with a little more, fiction can definitely be used as an excuse to say and act out hateful and discriminatory things. Whilst I do think it's something we should discuss and unpack more, I'm not certain of my view on how I would fix this without risking silencing people talking about their experiences.

"Its not my responsibility to look after other people, just block me and the tags"

Here they threw all kinds of accusations. And says that we're making traumatised people jump through hoops to avoid getting retraumatised. I hate this argument, you know people have actual triggers they may not be able to avoid in real life? The world can't bend around you. And I am very sorry if any content online is traumatising to you, but someone could also be traumatised by a certain breed of dog and not want to see it. Should no one post dogs online ever again? A bald man reminds you of an abusive ex? Bald men get off the Internet! You see how this thing can just keep escalating? The tags and warnings are important because they're the best you can get. You can't control the world to protect everyone from everything ever. No ones forcing you to interact, and if you're on any algorithm based content that will encourage that content on your for your page more.

The only thing I think we should take from this is the reminder that warnings and tags are always important.

"You only care about censoring creativity"

Here they defend themselves that oh wouldn't you want freaks out the community! Which again immediately makes me lose respect for you, if you're just going to brand us all as freaks as an argument and generalize us.

No comment on that first line when you can easily argue antishipper do the same.

"Proshippers are not remotely innocent of targeted harrasement" Neither are antis. There's people who take things too far both sides and I'm not going to defend either for that.

"Real kids get assaulted and all you care about is censoring people online!"

Here they shout "oh I can care about both!" But what I don't think they realise is censorship can make it difficult for kids and to learn about how to speak up and to look for signs, or to speak up about their experiences. How do you plan on removing the topic from the Internet whilst also letting victims speak up? And people may want to write fiction based off their experiences. Who are you to go through it and proclaim what is too far, what romanticises it too much? More on this later.

"Antis are reducing my trauma"

They compared this to saying "date rape victims are reducing my trauma because they weren't taken advantage of in the same way as me" which is a disgusting parallel?? Date rape is still rape. Someone writing about something isn't the same as it happening. Although it can be used as harrasment, grooming, etc if directly addressed to you or being constantly sent to you, written about you. But the content existing in general? No.

"I'm coping"

Compared it to self harm, and such. Poetry and diaries are also used to write about your experiences and unpack trauma. Some of which may write it in an unrealistically positive light cause that's how they want to unpack it or explain those thoughts. And yes these things get posted online.

I can't imagine a single therapist or professional psychiatrist of any kind disapproving of creative writing because, again, it's much better than any alternatives of doing real harm to yourself or people around you. Although I do agree that if something is traumatising for you to read about and just upsets you further, be aware of your own boundaries but not everyone is the same so how are you going to police people's own thoughts and emotions.

Also I can't remember who or where as it was years ago now, but I have heard of people who actually realised they were being groomed or abused and just how bad it was through reading about it in a fanfic and seeing it in an outside perspective.

They also say to do it in private, but doesn't everyone on the Internet now have an understanding of finding a community and looking out for eachother and sharing experiences?

"There's more nuance here than just calling proshippers peodophiles"

Here they say no matter what it still comes down to whether it's ever okay to sexualise minors in certain contexts. And again, not every proshipper does this or is even comfortable with engaging in this kind of content. And further, no one is sexualising real minors in this context.

"I'm a proshipper and a minor tho!"

I'd agree minors should be wary of the spaces they're in but proship spaces aren't always necessarily sexual, graphic or 18+. Saying they're being groomed feels like you're watering down that term. I was a proshipper at age 13, I didn't interact with anyone online about it though, I didn't even know that was the term. I just came to the conclusion that it's just fiction all on my own. Minors aren't idiots.

At then end they talk about their own experience being groomed and I'm obviously not going to nitpick or criticise their experiences. I will point out that one person being bad and taking advantage of you and using content to do so doesn't mean everyone is like that. I am sorry to anyone who has been taken advantage of by someone who claims they're a proshipper though. There are people who have turned out to be horrible on both sides.

I am ill and it's late but I want to get this up sooner rather than later so please ask for clarification on anything. I'm always up for a discussion on this topic as I do believe some of these points do have merits at times and that this whole topic is not black and white

#proshipper #profiction #proship #anti anti #proship positivity #ship discourse #ship discussion #tw grooming #tw harrassment #tw trauma #anti censorship #anti harassment

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heartofwritiing · 10 months ago

Note

could you write wilbur soot confessing his love to a crush? 👉👈

something about how he's been pinning after this crush for so long, but the crush seems a bit avoidant or something

but that's because the crush also has a crush on him and is very very shy qpwimsmanssjslslek sorry im not good with requests

You and me need never be, lonely again.

Paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader

authors note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you don't mind the reader being a content creator and i’m sorry she’s not super shy because im not really sure how to write shy lol but i hope you like the request! I just thought it would add to the idea and I've wanted to do something similar to this for a while! This is a request back from august. I am so sorry this took me so long to get out. I've been going through some shit irl but I'm finally starting to come back to writing because I genuinely love it and posting on here since it is my safe space!

line from this prompt list

warnings: friends-lovers, reader lives in the US, brief description of anxiety, the reader sends mixed signals, swearing, kinda angsty, happy end, super unedited!

"No! That was such bullshit!"

The voice of Tommyinnit ran through the speakers of your computer causing you to let out a chuckle that you were the reason for his outburst.

You were playing Gang Beasts on stream with some of your closest friends, and you had grabbed Tommy's character and thrown him off the map by picking him up.

Laughter rang out amongst the group as the screen card popped up saying your username won. You cheered as everyone groaned but dispersed into 'ggs' then that's when everyone started to bid goodnight. You hadn't realized it had been four hours of streaming and playing games, showing the good time you were having with friends.

"Alright chat, that's gonna be it for me today! Please remember to click the follow button if you're new to stream that way you'll know when I go live! byeee!" You did your outro, quickly closed your stream down, and logged out of Twitch.

It was an uneventful stream session, thank god. You’ve noticed more and more how your chat gets when you even mention wilburs name.

“you logging off completely y/n/n?” Ranboos voices asks through your earbuds.

“No, I’ll play a few more rounds if you guys are down,” you respond.

“HELL YEAH!” Tommy boasted. “IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS THIS TIME Y/N/N!”

“Oh, it’s on gremlin child!” you replied.

Wilbur listened to this conversation on his end, letting out a chuckle. He honestly doesn’t know why you make him laugh so easily. Anytime you threw a genius comment toward Tommy that was deemed insulting, or calling him a name Wilbur fell for you more and more. If only he had the guts to tell you.

You as well wouldn’t admit it but every time Wilbur laughed all you could feel was butterflies punching your stomach and a smile that made your cheeks hurt. You were also falling hard for him.

After about another fifteen minutes, Tommy and Ranboo had bid their goodbyes for the night and ended their calls. You were left in call with Wilbur, the silence could be cut with a knife.

Knowing him for two years was hard. Wilbur was everything to you. He was funny, smart, charming, and overall made you feel comfortable. Something you thought you’d never have with anyone. Having to only talk on call and video made things easier for you. On call you could hide your blushes and smiles from him, but not from your chat who caught every interaction between you and Wilbur when you streamed. The constant ’Wilbur x name confirmed?’ tweets and comments in your twitch chat were recently repetitive and you wondered when you became such a beacon of attention. It gave you such anxiety to have all eyes on you when you wanted to spend time with your best friend.

It was getting obnoxious to the point where you debated making a tweet to get the fans to stop shipping you both, even if you were dating it was no one’s business. Still you never dared to say anything out of fear of stans coming at you in anyway. You didn’t need to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

“You logging off? it’s getting pretty late for you,” you spoke up.

“Yeah, we both should, by the way what times your flight tomorrow?”

Right, you were flying less than eight hours from now to finally meet your friends inperson. You all had planned this for months, booking hotels and flights, making a whole deal about it. Then you really wouldn’t be able to hide from him for a whole week.

“Around seven-thirty,” you reply.

He hums.

“I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow night darling,” his voice purposely going lower on the ‘darling’ part that you almost didn’t catch it, making your knees go weak.

“N-night Will,” you stutter, end call and slump back into your desk chair trying to calm your racing heart. Meanwhile Wilbur all the way across the ocean in Brighton has a smile plastered across his lips.

About a plane ride, a train ride and car ride later, you are stood in the hotel lobby in Brighton waiting for a late Tommy and Wilbur to arrive. You were super nervous to meet them. Having only been friends for what was a short time, it felt like you knew them for years, so why was this so scary?

You debated in your mind about texting them to see if they were close by, but you didn’t want to come off as annoying and impatient. You wanted to make a good first impression, but again these were your friends. Why were you shaking with nerves?

You fiddled with your thumb’s absentmindedly until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of your skin. You spin around to be met with a cackling Tommy who is clucking his stomach from laughing so hard at your reaction.

“Fucking gremlin child,” you huffed under your breath, not realizing the evident blood rushing to your cheeks from being startled so easily.

“It’s nice to hear you say that in person,” a deep voice said from behind Tommy. You shifted your eyes to see a very tall Wilbur, who was wearing his round glasses pushed up his nose and curly hair fluffed to the side.

His dark sweater selves rolled up to revel his arms tucked into his side as he gazed at you with a soft smile. Finally after two years of being separated by seas, your best friend was standing right in front of you. It was surreal to say the least.

You laugh and jump forward to embrace him. The number of times you’d tease him over-call about his height made you regret your words. He towers over you as he bends down to your level to give you a long awaited hug. His arms are soft, yet firm as they wrap around your back and cage you into his embrace.

You both pull away, both grinning from ear to ear. He looks down at you with a hint of something behind his eyes, he seems to be genuinely happy to finally meet you in person. which makes you blush at the thought of him looking forward to this moment since you told him you wanted to come here. You're quickly brought out of your moment when Tommy speaks up behind you.

"So he gets a hug and I don't?!" his tone slightly offended.

"Yup, cause you're annoying," you bring a hand up to flick his forehead, causing him to let out a irritated noise. you had only just met him in person but something compelled you to do that. Maybe it was just a reason for you to break the ice and it was working because you all broke out into giggles.

“Im just kidding Tom,” you motion him into a hug.

Wilbur just stood observing the entire interaction between his two best friends. He was thrilled to finally have you here, he couldn't wait to show you all his favorite places, hang out, and get to know better in person. Finally.

The two boys had managed to drag you to the beach, and even though it was freezing Tommy insisted on going to the arcade to try and win another 'vlog gun'. After suffering through loosing a few games, Wilbur managed to win you a little stuffed cat that you promptly named Mr Whiskers.

It was endearing to watch him struggle at most of the games so he could get enough tickets. It was all worth it in his eyes to embarrass himself by losing ski-ball to you, twice, he saw the evident blush on your cheeks and the look you gave him. As if he hung the stars in the sky just for you. It made his chest hurt in a good way.

The rest of the night went smoothly for the most part. More and more, Wilbur had been getting more touchy with you. Though you didn’t mind it at all, maybe he didn’t realize how much he was putting his hand on you as you walked side by side as he led you through crowds. How he held doors open for you. It was sweet.

Maybe he was doing it just to be nice. That small voice in the back of your head telling you thats all it was. Because thats what friends do.

Eventually, the three of you met up with Ranboo and Charlie. They were just how they were online, which made meeting them a whole lot better. Walking around Brighton, making inside jokes and teasing each other. You hadn't been this happy in a while. You can remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself, your friends were the product of that. You were fortunate to have found them when you did. Quarantine was hard on you, much like the rest of the world. So when you were invited to join a group game call, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. That night, something had clicked between you and Wilburt specifically. Then you started to join more calls with the gang and the rest was history.

Sometime in the night, you found yourself walking behind with Wilbur by your side chatting about nothing in particular. Until the comfortable silence filled the air between you, you took a moment to take in the nightlife of Brighton. The street lamps guide your way through the beachside and the pubs on the corner were starting to fill up. As if the city was somehow more alive at night.

"I'm really glad you came," Wilbur speaks, sincerely.

You stop your wide-eyed gaze to look at him and smile softly at him.

"I am too," You gush. "I'm honestly considering moving here,” Now he’s smiling.

Wilbur's brain starts to go a million miles a second. His heart leaped at the thought of you living closer to him. Seeing you in person everyday seemed like a dream come true. He begins to slow his step and a frown replaces your smile. Your own thoughts running rampant now, assuming you might've freaked him out by voicing that you wanted to move here so soon after meeting him in person. Maybe it made him uncomfortable. it was too soon to say something that bold. You had only just met him in person today.

"Listen, Y/N..."

You stopped and your brain got the best of you with his tone. You shouldn't have said anything like that to him. It was too soon.

“I don’t want to sound cheesy, but I need you to know how I feel.”

Oh... OH.

You knew what this was leading to. Realizing why he was acting the way he was all day.

"I like you, more than like you. You're funny, beautiful, smart, and everything I could've hoped for in a best friend. But I can't keep pretending I don't think of you when we aren't talking, or how when I look at you my chest hurts."

Wilbur liked you. Really liked you. You would jump for joy and shout to the rooftops about how much you reciprocate his feelings but something in the back of your mind told you not to. The doubt in your mind from yourself, both your fans online judging. It made you slowly start to panic. You felt as though you weren’t good enough for him.

You saw the aftermath of when his fans shipped him and Niki together. It almost ruined their friendship. You didn’t want that.

"Please say something?" he stops his rant to notice you are staring up at him with blank eyes.

"I-uh," you stutter. "can we maybe not do this now?"

His face falls and it instantly crushes you with regret. His disappointment shows as he gives you a forced smile and nods.

"Y-yeah, let's catch up with everyone, Tommy wants to do this big stream at his place." he gestures for you to move along with him, all while you feel horrible for doing this.

You wish you could take back what you said. You know you've hurt him, It's painfully obvious when he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the walk. You glance at him a few times but he keeps his eyes forward and stoic.

If only you didn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. You had to talk to him at some point, but for now you pushed it aside. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension between the two of you, if they did nothing was remarked about it.

As you continued the journey to Tommys flat, you and Wilbur still walked silently side by side. With what little courage you had, you reached out your hand and held his in a moment of truce. Giving it a gentle squeeze with your fingers to seal the deal that you would talk later. You heard his soft inhale at the contact and he squeezes back. Your shoulders drop from the weight of tension being lifted off. Maybe, just maybe this ment this conversation wasn’t over.

Back at Tommy’s, the monitor in his cramped bedroom with everyone packed together like sardines; shows the twitch chat flashing by with viewers comments.

“WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM EVERYONE!” Tommy shouted causing you to hold your ear in slight pain.

“God Tommy, could you be anymore loud?” you wince.

“Look who’s here chat!” he gestured to you with his hands, ignoring your complaints. You waved at the webcam as chat went crazy. He introduced everyone else as they all broke out into a chorus of conversation.

Wilbur was mostly quiet on your left, an occasional sarcastic comment made here and there. You could practically feel his eyes buring into the side of your head. Hopping chat wasn’t noticing how he was looking at you, your eyes shifting to your lap to fidget with your fingers.

Out of view, Wilbur reached over and took your hand picking at the skin around your nails. You had stopped your nervous tick and opted for squeezing his hand. Nobody seemed to notice the sudden shift in both your behavior.

Suddenly you felt tense, the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on you made your mind start to spiral.

Letting go of Wilburs hand, you quickly had excused yourself and walked out of Tommys room and into the kitchen.

Everyone had a mix of concerned and worried expressions as they watched you leave the room but didn’t say anything about it. Wilbur had followed you in pursuit. He found you in the kitchen hyperventilating Your panic had taken over and now your lungs were paying the price for the burning sensation from not breathing.

“it's okay,” he took your face into his hands and held you. “just follow my breaths.

he took a breath in, and you followed.

When you came to your senses, Wilbur had asked you what was wrong and you just began to cry. Everything came rushing down on you.

“Im sorry. I-Im sorry I shot you down earlier, Im sorry for h-hurting you. I-i,” you stuttered over yourself. Wilbur shakes his head at you. He probably thinks you’re such a mess.

“I don’t understand, I know you like me too, so I don’t understand why you rejected me after I poured my heart out to you. Then you go and hold my hand while we're walking.'

Wilbur was right. Playing with his feelings was selfish and cruel. He was completely in the right to question you. You were practically flirting with one another all day, and then you shut down his advances of trying to open your relationship.

“I do wanna be with you.” you sniff. “I'm just really scared.”

"Why darling? It's just me, your silly old Wil." he pokes at your sides causing you to let out a giggle. Your best friend, who looked at you with the prettiest chocolate eyes, who stayed on call with you all night when you couldn't sleep. The only person you told your deepest fears and dreams to.

You take a shaky inhale as you begin to explain. "I don't wanna ruin our friendship, we have something I've never experienced with anyone else in my life. I care about you too much to let me be a distraction in your life, and I am scared that the fans will-"

Wilbur interrupts you with a hand on your arm.

"The fans? darling who cares about that, I care way too much about you to even care about what strangers think. It's no one's business who I, or you for that matter have a relationship with." he clarified. "I love you and nothing or no one will ever change that."

Those three words made your heart leap in your throat.

"Y-you l-love me?" you stutter in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I do."

Tears roll down the apples of your cheeks as you lean forward to engulf Wilbur into another hug. His arms wrapped around your back reciprocating your embrace. your face buried in his neck as you inhale his cologne and your tears dampen his skin.

"I love you too Wil," you whisper.

He squeezes you closer to him in return and this time you don't hold yourself back...

taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet @loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41

#wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #wilbur soot x fem!reader #x reader #request #anon request #writing #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fanafiction

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 2 months ago

Note

What is your opinion on each of the known students in Ms. Mendeleiev's class (Marc Anciel, Aurore Beauréal, Mireille Caquet, Jean Duparc, Zoé Lee)? I realize that Zoé’s section of your answer will most likely be the longest, but I figured I’d go ahead and put them all in one ask anyways since there’s only five out of sixteen total and having one ask for each of the other four seemed unnecessary.

Zoé is going to get the most analysis out of me, so we'll save her for last and start with the character that I have the least to say about:

Jean Duparc

I didn't even know who this was, so I had to check the fan wiki page about him. He's apparently a minor character who gets akumatized and defeated off screen. His design is so generic that the trivia section reads, "Jean's design is a regular background model used in groups and crowds in the series."

So, yeah, nothing to say about this one. I can't have opinions on a character who barely even counts as a character.

Mireille Caquet

Mireille is a minor step up from Jean in that I actually know who she is - she's the girl who wins the weather reporter job at the start of Stormy Weather - but as far as her personality goes, I have nothing to comment on because Mireille does really have a personality. She only exists so that Aurore has someone to lose to at the start of Stormy Weather. That's why Aurore has a really cool and memorable design while Mireille looks like she's wearing pajamas. I don't think Mireille even has lines at any point in the series. If she does, they're not memorable, making her another character who barely counts as a character, leaving me nothing to talk about.

Aurore Beauréal

I really like Aurore's design, but there's not much else for me to say about her because we don't really get to know her character. She made for a fun akuma and that's all that she was meant to be. Her non-akumatized lines are just generic ranting about her loss

Aurore:(in the elevator) I should have won, I have the talent, the star looks, everything! But she took everything away from me. They took everything away from me! They--

and a generic statement of confusion after she's freed from her akuma. I wouldn't have been upset if she'd become a reoccurring character because - once again - she's got a really cool design, but I can't tell you anything else about her, so there's nothing for me to analyze.

Marc Anciel

Marc is the first character with some actual substance, but the substance is hardly abundant. He's just a kind of generic shy writer. I'm not sure why he's been added to the cast as a reoccurring character because they really didn't need more characters and they already have a writer in Alya. So I don't dislike him, I think he's fine, I'm just not sure why he's here. I was especially confused when he was given a miraculous because what has he done to earn one? He's not even part of the miracuclass where everyone gets a miraculous no matter how unworthy they are. It feels like he was just picked because they needed 18 holders, but they only had 17 and Marc is Nathaniel's comic-writing buddy, so I guess he's good enough?

Speaking of Nathaniel, I know that people ship him with Marc and that they're kind of implied to be together in the show, so I guess I should comment on that? I have to admit that I'm not a fan. Nathaniel's actions in Reverser were incredibly off-putting making this yet another couple with a really unhealthy foundation to their relationship. Why does Miraculous keep doing that???

In case people don't remember, Marinette gives Nathaniel Marc's story to read and Nathaniel assumes that it's Ladybug's private diary because the story is called "Diary of Ladybug". Why Nathaniel thinks that Ladybug would have Marinette deliver her private diary to him is beyond me. This is especially true since it doesn't read like any diary I've ever seen and the episode starts with these exchanges:

Marinette:(sees Marc) Marc you made it! (Marinette runs up to Marc and grabs his arm) Come meet everyone! (dragging him inside) This is Marc, the boy I told you about! The one who's always writing. Marc:(hides his book in his jacket) Uh... I'm sorry I didn't want to disturb you.

Jean-Pierre: Alix is our expert at street art. (Alix flips spray can in the air and catches it) And Nathaniel- Alix: He likes to draw people in skinny suits. (Nathaniel throws a piece of paper at Alix and she laughs) Nathaniel: Welcome Marc. As you'll find out, the good thing about this place is you can say whatever you want and no one will judge you, or only in good fun. (Marc notices Nathaniel's drawing and walks over to him) Marc: I... I saw your drawings on the school website, but they're nothing compared to the real thing. The movement, the expressions, the attitudes. They're all so-- Nathaniel: Thanks... That's nice.

Jean-Pierre: By the way Marc, you've shown up at the perfect time. Marinette told us that you're always writing and Nathaniel is looking for a script writer. (Nathaniel smiles at Marc)

Based on all this, it's not weird for Marinette to assume that Nathaniel would be able to guess that she was giving him Marc's writing. After all, the first few scenes of this episode all happen during the same day, meaning that Nathaniel was given this book right after being told that Marc liked his art, being told that Marc was a potential script writer, and being told that Marinette was Marc's friend, but whatever. What really matters is that, when Nathaniel goes to meet "Ladybug" and finds Marc instead, he gets extremely mad and rips Marc's book in half:

Nathaniel: What?! You're not Ladybug! Marc: Of course I'm not, it's me, Marc. Didn't Marinette tell you? Nathaniel: Marinette? (He looks over to Marinette's balcony, where he sees her filming him) Marinette: Uhh, operation "Comic Book" has hit a snag! (Tikki hides) Nathaniel: You were trying to make a fool of me, weren't you? (Points accusingly towards Marinette) Do you think it's funny to toy with my feelings? Marc: No, not at all! I-I just want.. to make.. a comic book, if you want to, that is. Nathaniel: A comic book? Us!? Together?! Never! (He tears Marc's book in half)

Oh yeah, I'm totally shipping these two. Couple of the century here. Really living up to that whole, "say whatever you want and no one will judge you, or only in good fun" thing, Nathaniel. Why did you even jump to the idea the they were making fun of you? Nothing in the episode set that up as a reasonable conclusion. No one was bullying you and you seem pretty freaking secure about yourself. If any character was set up to assume they were being made fun of, it was Marc!

This is another case where the show is trying to make things Marinette's fault, but she's actually not doing anything wrong. This is almost entirely on Nathaniel. They had a relatively minor miscommunication and, when he discovers that, his reaction is to destroy another artist's passion project in a fit of rage.

Anyone who thinks that it's okay to destroy another person's property because they're hurt needs anger management classes before they're ready to date anyone. Any time I see Marc and Nathaniel together, I remember this moment and wish that Marc would get out of there because I just don't view Nathaniel as a safe person. This was just such a massive overreaction and it gives me major ick vibes. Especially since this is yet another case where the wronged party never really gets an apology. The most we get is this:

Ladybug:(turns to Marc and Nathaniel) Marc and Nathaniel? By now you realize there was a big misunderstanding, but if you give each other a chance, I'm sure you'll find out how well you can work together. (Nathaniel holds out his hand, Marc looks, smiles and shakes Nathaniel's hand)

Why are we implying that there was blame on both sides here? Marc was the wronged party in every conceivable way. Once again, major ick vibes.

Zoé Lee

Zoé is written like someone's Mary Sue self-insert which is not a dig on Mary Sues! Mary Sues are just the most popular female equivalent to escapist male power fantasies and escapist fantasies should belong to all genders! However, if you're going to write a character like this, then they're supposed to be the main character. It's really freaking weird to have a side character written like this.

What do I mean by a Mary Sue self-insert?

Zoé shows up out of nowhere and immediately becomes best friends with all of the core cast members

Zoé has a tragic backstory that everyone finds oh so sad and comforts her over even though it really should make them wary of her ("I used to lie about everything and it lost me all my friends!" Yeah, I'll bet it did!)

Zoé is good at basically everything she tries and has no real flaws

Zoé gets brought into the magical girl squad in her second appearance, making her the character with the least development prior to being given a miraculous

Zoé is somehow the voice of reason, seeing the truth of things while everyone else is deceived in episodes like Kwami's Choice or Adoration, giving her things like the anti-Lila powers previously only held by Marinette and Adrien

Zoé is chosen as Adrien's replacement while Alya replaces Marinette, implying that these two are on equal standing somehow

In other words, Zoé is generic and kind of boring, but is treated as the best thing ever, which makes her a pretty annoying and crappy side character. The reason characters like this are successful main characters is because the whole point is escapist fantasy. You're supposed to be able to project yourself onto this generic cool person and pretend it's you being fawned over by your favorite characters. It's not my cup of tea, but I see the appeal and get why it's not hard to find stories like this especially in the romance, isekai, and fanfic genres, all of which are big on escapism.

While I will defend this type of character as fine in general, they have no place in a show like Miraculous. Miraculous is not an escapist fantasy. It's supposedly Marinette and Adrien's love story, so what is a self-insert fantasy doing here? The show really showcases how awkward this is in Adoration where Marinette spends the whole episode freaking out about Zoé liking Adrien - because of course the self-insert gets a love triangle with the leads - only for Zoé to confess her feelings for Marinette like a good little self-insert would, but of course Marinette can't accept those feelings so it's just kind of fizzles instead of leading to the standard self-insert romance with their favorite character. Writers, what are you even trying to do here? Why is Zoé getting all this attention? It's weird...

Zoé's awkwardness is only exacerbated by the fact that she's also a blatant Chloe replacement and I don't just mean the fact that she gets the bee. I mean that she's often used to disseminate information that Chloe would have or to fill the role that a redeemed Chloe would fill. For example, take this scene from the episode Gabriel Agreste:

Zoé: (rudely) Jean Quinton, did my mother tell you that the dinner party is no longer at Gabriel Agreste's tonight? Armand: Oh no! Madam didn't mention anything to me. Zoé: A helicopter will be coming to the roof, to take you over to the Eiffel Tower. Armand: Is mademoiselle sure about this? Zoé: Excuse me? Are you suggesting that I might be wrong? (walks away) Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! (to herself) Sorry, but it's for a good cause.

The writers needed Chloe for a minute, so Zoé adopts Chloe's personality to allow them to have a good Chloe without doing the work to actually make Chloe good. Btw, this scene shows exactly what I mean when I say that I want a wild card on the team. Someone who isn't afraid to be mean to get the job done. The writers clearly understand that a character like that has their uses, but then you'd have a character who is on the side of good, but who isn't a total goody two shoes and I guess we can't have that?

As you've probably picked up, I'm not much of a Zoé fan. I find her pretty obnoxious because she's so wildly out of place. Outside of her role as substitute Chloe, her character adds nothing to the story. There's no missing role that she uniquely fills because the cast was already bloated as heck when she showed up. To be fair, there are ways this could have been fixed.

Zoé shows up right after Chloe's betrayal and she almost immediately reveals herself to be a status chasing liar who is trying to be a better person. This should make everyone super wary of her and could have been used to demonstrate the difference between a person who doesn't want to change (Chloe) and a person who does want to change (Zoé). This would require the show to allow for multi-episode arcs, though, because Zoé's acceptance would need to be a slow process and not speed run in a single episode.

You could have also had Zoé show up at the same time as Audrey and used her as part of Chloe's story either to drive Chloe to be worse or to give Chloe someone who helps her get better because no one understands your messed up home life better than your siblings.

But those are some pretty major changes to canon. As is, Zoé is totally unnecessary and I wish that the writers would stop trying to make us love her by giving her cool roles in the story, shafting characters that we've all wanted more of in favor of this rando that they forced on us at the last minute. I will forever be salty that Zoé got the black cat instead of Nino. Alya had already had her identity outed twice, give someone else the Ladybug and let Nino get a chance to shine! Or just give the ladybug to Alya and black cat to Nino and imply that this is going to be a new love square situation. After all, Kwami's Choice has Tikki claim:

Tikki: No, they’re made for each other. Love is what gives them their strength.

Implying that the ladybug and the black cat should be in love so why are you picking Zoé and Alya? Not exactly opposed to that ship, but I don't think it's actually the plan, so what was that about? Plagg and Tikki didn't even seem to consider the comparability of their new chosen which is super weird given the whole "made for each other" line we get from Fu when he picks Adrien and Marinette in Origins. You can tell that no care was put into choosing the replacement heroes. They just once again wanted to show how cool Zoé is.

#anon ask #ml writing critical #ml writing salt #Zoe salt

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