#'pretty cool that you value dignity for all. like i would hope that was a given but i'm a fan of you putting that on your website'

[iknewiwouldregretthis]

tiredly reading through About pages on a company website looking for anything to connect to when they ask why i want to work there at my interview tomorrow

[honeysuckle-venom]

Hey! I have a question about Judaism/Jewishness (and kind of, religious trauma I guess?).

I think my question is, I know there’s different sects of Judaism, and that Hebrew and (mis)translations can be very complicated, and that it isn’t really a one-size-fits-all kind of thing… but… in general, in Judaism, are there beliefs that Jewish people hold about the world/themselves/etc?

I keep thinking about the sect of Christianity I was raised in. Even though I never believed in the god that they were talking about, the general beliefs of “If you do all these things and follow all the pomp and circumstance, and try really really hard, one day you *might* be redeemable” etc., seems like a really messed up message to tell anyone.

So I guess my question is like, if there *are* general Judaism beliefs or like, core values, how do you feel like those changed or impacted your perception of yourself?

I’m sorry that I only know how to relate this to Christianity, and I hope I didn’t word it offensively. (And feel free to delete this if it is offensive or you just don’t want to answer.)

Judaism seems like a really cool, genuine religion, and I like learning more about it, and I appreciate your point of view :)

Hi Anni!

Thank you so much for the fascinating question! This wasn't in any way offensive, and even if it had been I don't mind answering offensive questions as long as they're asked in good faith, so everyone please feel free to ask me any questions without worrying about sounding ignorant or offensive.

This question required a lot of thought. I also want to acknowledge that I'm answering this from a largely Reform and Conservative framework. Also, this is going to get VERY long, so I'm putting my answer below the cut

Judaism emphasizes actions much, much more than beliefs, and honestly I had never before really considered whether there were core Jewish beliefs. After thinking about it for a while and talking about it with my Dad, the closest I came up with was the idea of "B'tzelem Elohim" which translates to "in the image of G-d." This is the idea that every single human being was created in G-d's image, and therefore is deserving of being treated with dignity. I think that is a pretty central belief that underlies a lot of Jewish thought and Jewish laws.

Besides that, a lot of it comes down to "Jews have a responsibility to live an ethical life." Ethics are really big in Judaism, and you're supposed to live an ethical and righteous life, but not for any sort of tangible reward or fear of punishment. You're supposed to do it for its own sake, because it's the right thing to do. Some more religious Jews might also say that it's because it's what G-d wants you to do, but that's still different from doing it because you're scared G-d will strike you down if you don't. There are 613 Jewish mitzvot (commandments) which you're supposed to follow if you're Jewish, and those help you to lead an ethical life. (If you're not Jewish you're only required to follow 7 laws, the Noahide laws, to be righteous). But many Jews today don't follow every single one of those laws, and emphasize more certain prevalent ideas in Jewish ethics and culture. Those ideas include values such as the importance of justice, the importance and holiness of study and education, the responsibility to treat others as you would want to be treated and to act towards others with chesed (loving-kindness), etc.

As for Jewish ideas about the world, most Jews believe that the world is, to a certain extent, deeply flawed or broken, and that we all have a responsibility to work to heal or repair it (an idea called tikkun olam). This happens to be one of my favorite Jewish concepts.

As for how growing up Jewish and surrounded by these ideas and values has changed my perception of my self, well, that's complicated. Because I've been surrounded by it my whole life in some ways it's hard to say, I don't know who I would have been if I had grown up in another culture. In some ways even my idea of the concept of "self perception" might be different from people who aren't Jewish. Because so much of Judaism is about action and how you interact with the world, my perception of myself is constantly changing and is based in some part on how I interact with the world rather than some fixed internal idea. But there are a number of ways in which I think growing up Jewish has influenced how I perceive myself.

I don't fear hell, or some divine punishment. Not to belittle others' beliefs or the severe trauma many undergo being taught about hell, but the idea of hell has honestly always been kind of ridiculous to me. I could never believe that G-d would do something like that, and I would never worship a god who would. I don't believe in thought-crime and don't punish myself for my thoughts, and I think that's because I grew up in a culture where actions were what mattered, not thoughts. I have a very particular dark sense of humor that came from being Jewish. I believe that I have inherent worth and dignity because of the idea of B'tzelem Elohim, and I believe that I have a responsibility to live my life in certain ways. I value education and questioning very highly, and in many ways that's a good thing, but there's also a lot of pressure to achieve academically that I experienced that came in part from being Jewish. I feel a certain amount of pressure to have children and carry on the legacy of Judaism, which at times in my life has been difficult. Overall being Jewish I think has positively impacted my sense of self and has very much shaped my values, but there are some areas where it has added certain pressures I think.

I also have an amount of certainty about my identity because of being Jewish. I went to Jewish daycare, then Jewish preschool, then when I started secular kindergarten I also started attending Hebrew School twice a week. I experienced antisemitism starting in preschool. In times when I've felt completely lost about who I am, one thing I know is that I am Jewish. There's no real way to stop being Jewish. There's nothing I would ever do that would mean that I wasn't Jewish anymore, for all of the good and all of the bad that gives me. And I'm very aware of my place within the Jewish people and within Jewish history. I can feel thousands of years of history and ancestors with me when I do the same rituals and say the same words and study the same texts they did. That gives me a sense of certainty and belonging that I find really valuable.

I don't...know if this answered your question, tbh. This was tricky for me to figure out how to answer. I'd be happy for this to be an ongoing conversation, so if you have any further questions about what I said here or if I didn't really answer your question or if you have other questions please feel free to send in more asks!

[hoe-doroki]

I just read your Iida fic with the reader having a breakdown and I love your writing! You portrayed him really well! Are your requests open to do another fic with Iida and some fluff? Anything is fine!

Hey there, nonnie! Thanks so much for the request. Sorry it took a few days to get out--vague requests really stump me sometimes. I had to do a lot of brainstorming to come up with...this? Look, this idea is basically crack and I don’t know what to tell you. Hope someone enjoys it!

pairing: Iida x reader

genre: fluff, mild comfort

word count: 1.8k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

There was something musical about the sound of glass breaking. When it was a clean break, rather than the crushing of a bottle underfoot or a baseball hitting a window, it made a delicate tinkle, like the hit of a glockenspiel. Nice. Pretty.

Job one was cleaning the mess. You used your quirk to hover out of the room, relieved to find that the damage hadn’t made it past your closed bedroom door. All the other lights and windows in the house were in one piece, and thankfully the kitchen had been untouched. You found a dustpan and began trying to erase the evidence.

Not that there was any real chance of that. Two hours into your endeavor, you heard the front door open and cringed. But there was nothing to hide—it wasn’t like any lie in the world could make up for the fact that all of Iida’s glasses were now prescriptionless.

“I’m home!” Iida called as you stood up, trying to regain some of your dignity and circulation in your knees before you came face to face with your boyfriend.

“In the bedroom,” you called. “I suggest you keep your shoes on.”

“Why in the world would I—”

You saw Iida step into the doorway, your teeth gritted nervously as you eyed his reaction. His shoes were already off and his now-singular set of glasses were pointed at the ground, his jaw dropped.

“Honey?” Iida asked when he was done looking at your dustpan and trash bin filled with glass and the many sparkling bits still left on the floor. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said, holding up gloved hands to show that you had no cuts to worry about. “Just put on shoes, babe.”

“Right,” Iida said, furrowing his eyebrows. “Right.”

You heard him shuffling back to the door to find a pair of shoes to put on. You’d done the same earlier and, though you were sure Iida felt just as strange about wearing shoes in the house as you did, it was certainly a necessity in this scenario.

“Okay,” Iida said, now shoed and back into the doorway. He had a tense hand pointed at either you or the mess, you weren’t sure. “So what happened here?”

“Well,” you began awkwardly. “I was working on my quirk a little bit. You know how I’ve been trying to hit a high C? Well…I finally did. And, um, it turns out that it breaks glass.”

“That’s a myth,” Iida stated. “High C’s only break glass under very specific circumstances. It would be nearly impossible for your singing to create…to cause all this.”

“No, I know that,” you said, smiling against the hellish backdrop. “My quirk, Iida. We finally know what happens when I sing a high C.”

Iida’s mouth fell open again, smaller this time. “Oh. Oh.”

Your quirk was a…peculiar one. Every note you sang, when sustained for more than a few seconds, caused a different effect. A B flat 4 allowed you to breathe out smoke. A D4 gave you a slight gravitational pull, but you never really used that one, since it only tended to attract pollen and leaves your way. G3 was a little low for you, but allowed you to levitate a couple inches off the ground which, usually, you found to be pretty useless. However, it was sure helpful right now, as you tried to navigate between rare spots of glassless floor.

When most people heard about your quirk, they thought it was really cool. Unlike most, you technically had dozens of quirks. However, most of them were almost entirely useless, and very hard to train, since they all only worked when you were sustaining a note. So you couldn’t use any quirk for more than twenty or thirty seconds at a time. You couldn’t strengthen any of them with those restraints. The best you could do was increase your lung capacity, work on your pitch, and try and stretch your range to see if any notes at the far ends of your register would reveal something more useful or interesting.

And this one was interesting. You could appreciate the irony. You weren’t sure you liked it, though.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” you said before lightly singing a G3 and hovering over to him. “I broke all of your glasses.”

He looked over at the thin shelves that now held nothing but the thin frames of dozens of glasses and unusable, cracked lenses. His face crumbled—it appeared he hadn’t noticed before, his eyes too focused on the shrapnel on the floor.

Iida swallowed and nodded, the corners of his mouth tense. “It’s okay, honey. I’m not mad.”

You put a hand on his cheek, but he was still looking at his ruined collection instead of at you, and your heart clenched a little. “It would be okay if you were mad,” you said. “Those were expensive and you had them for a reason…I’m really sorry.”

“No,” Iida said, shaking his head before making eye contact with you, his face placid. “The reason I had them was in case a pair broke in battle. This wasn’t battle, but it was your quirk training which is of equal importance. So they served their purpose.”

“But my quirk is useless,” you said. “If you’re saying that your glasses’ divine cause was my quirk training then they died in vain, because I’m never going to sing that note again.”

“Hey, there’s no need to say that,” Iida said, rubbing a big hand over your shoulder before pulling you in. “This quirk could be very valuable in a number of situations. What if you need a quick escape out a window but you can’t break through it? Or it could make for a useful surprise attack against a villain.”

“I love your big hero brain, Iida,” you said, rubbing your thumb over his strong cheekbone. “But that’s not exactly useful for a civilian.”

���Right, of course,” Iida said, brows furrowing as he thought more. “Well, it makes for a good party trick? So long as there isn’t anything extraneous that’s broken.”

You giggled at Iida’s sad attempt to comfort you. You weren’t sure that breaking glass to show off would come up at the kind of parties that you and Iida attended. They were mostly benefits that pro heroes had to attend for appearances. But, then again, anything was possible.

Your smile spread to Iida, whose face warmed as he looked at you and soon you were in his arms, wrapped in a big bear hug. You had yet to encounter another person who gave hugs that were quite as good, with his broad chest and thick arms wrapping fully around you so you felt safe and content.

“We can order you some new glasses tonight,” you mumbled into his chest, still feeling a bit guilty about the whole ordeal. It wasn’t a disaster, truly. So long as Iida could keep his glasses in one piece for a few days—which he usually could, despite what his dozens of backups implied—then all that really needed to be done was clean the room, screw in a new light bulb, and find a tarp to put over the window until you could call a window fitting service.

“Actually, I…” Iida pulled away, his gaze back on the shelves. He was scratching his nose and hiding what looked to be a slight blush from you. You cocked your head to the side. “I kind of want to mourn these ones for a minute before we order their replacements. If that’s okay.”

It was all you could do to keep from laughing.

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, and you were back in his arms, this time providing the squeeze yourself. “Whatever you need.”

You tried to keep Iida from helping with the cleanup—it was your mess, after all—but he would hear nothing of it. Even when you argued that you were the one with a quirk that could help even a little bit. Actually, your slight gravitational pull helped draw the smallest shards of glass out of the crannies in the wood floor, though Iida made you put on protective gear beforehand. The gear was a raincoat, wellies, jeans, and a ski mask, but they did the job.

At the end of it, Iida was holding one of the frames that both lenses had fallen clean out of, examining it. They were in perfect shape, like the lenseless glasses that internet influences wore when they were trying to look nerdy.

“You think we could send these back in so that all we need is new lenses instead of a whole new pair?” Iida asked.

“Aw, like an organ donor?” you said with a grin. “Making sure its sacrifice wasn’t wasted?”

“I’m serious,” Iida said—as though he ever wasn’t. “That’s something we can do, right?”

“Of course, honey,” you said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “We can look into it tomorrow.”

Iida nodded, looking wistful as he set the glasses back in their particular spot, where hopefully they’d soon be able to return whole once more. “Honey?”

“Hmm?”

You were wrapped around one of his arms, hugging it as you leaned into his body, warm from having crawled around the room with you all evening.

“I should have said before, and I’m sorry that I didn’t, that I’m proud of you.”

You nearly scoffed. “For what?”

“You made a big step with your quirk today,” Iida said, smiling at you. “That’s a big deal.”

“It’s really not,” you said. “Like I said, it’s not anything worthwhile.”

“Of course it is,” Iida said, quick to correct you. “I got my quirk from my parents, and it’s the same as my brother’s, and that’s its greatest value. Not its strength. Your quirk is a part of you. And that’s its inherent value.”

“You’re just biased because you like the package,” you argued.

“I do,” Iida said with a nod. “But my bias doesn’t matter here. I’m simply stating fact.”

“Iida,” you said, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “You’re too sweet.”

“No sweeter than you deserve,” Iida said confidently. “And that’s my final word on the matter.”

“Mm, I love you,” you said. “And that’s my final word on the matter.”

Iida frowned at you, caught between wanting to repeat the sentiment back and not wanting to go back on what he’d declared as his final word.

“You know what my stance is on that,” he said carefully. You eyed him, a brow arched in challenge. You saw him waver, and a moment later he was leaning down to kiss you, all soft and warm. “But I’ll happily remind you.”

[vivilove-jonsa]

A Bedding in the Vale

Day 2 Prompt-Tradition @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles​

Thanks @amymel86​ for the pretty poster!

A King Jon comes to the Vale and marries Alayne AU

***

She covertly studies her new husband throughout the feast, wishing to escape the hall’s curious eyes. He glares at most everyone but then she'll catch him looking at her, at her hair.  She'd washed the dye away this morning. What is he thinking?

In private, they’d agreed to marry. Petyr hadn’t been pleased to have his schemes scuttled but said he wasn’t remotely surprised that the King in the North would wish to marry his beloved Alayne.

She’s fully prepared for everything marrying Jon entails though he’s different than the boy she’d known, hard and cold at times like the North that reared him.

Nervously, she takes a gulp of her wine.  Noticing, he leans forward, his hand lightly resting on her forearm. “I won't hurt you. Once we retire, we won’t do anything you do not wish…”

But Baelish is on his feet, quieting the assembled lords and ladies. “I believe it’s time for the bedding!”  He claps his hands and the musicians start to play a bawdy tune.

Just as quickly, they are silenced when Jon’s head whips around.  He stands, an imposing figure in his kingly raiment with Longclaw at his waist and wrath dripping from his tongue. “I’ll take my bride to bed without ceremony, my lord.”

“Oh but the bedding ceremony is a tradition, particularly valued here in the Vale, Your Grace! My Alayne is a maiden but prepared for what's expected. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your new allies, would you?”

It’s only that last point that gives Jon pause, she knows.

The hall is silent as the tomb. Everyone looks between the Lord Paramount of the Vale and the visiting King in the North who’d arrived a moon ago and suddenly declared his intensions to marry Littlefinger’s bastard daughter a sennight ago for reasons none of them can comprehend.

True, he’s a bastard as well. Perhaps that’s why.

But it isn’t.

He knows that Jon knows. He thinks to call our bluff, she realizes. He thinks Jon won’t bed his half-sister for the sake of stealing her away North again.

Except I am not Jon’s sister.

Clever as he is, Littlefinger doesn’t know everything after all.

Jon looks back at her, his expression shrewd but concerned. His purpose in coming here had been to gain the Vale as allies. It is a fragile alliance they’ve brokered. She knows this very well. What’s a little loss of dignity and her maidenhead for the chance to go home? She’d already expected him to bed her eventually anyway.

She gives him a nod and a smile she hopes conveys her agreement.

“Very well,” he says gruffly to her before turning his attention back to the hall. “But if any man offends my wife in word or deed, I'll take his head.”

Not very friendly of him.  None are foolish enough to doubt him either.

She’s escorted to their chambers instead of carried there. Her dress is unlaced but with several ‘beg pardons’ and only enough as to allow her to slip it off more readily.

She slides between the cool sheets wearing only her smallclothes. Every man present looks away…except one. She will not blanch from his hungry eyes though. He will never have her now. She is Jon’s.

Her groom is lacking his shirt and his breeches have been partially unlaced when he enters. She scowls at the giggling pack of ladies attending him. She almost wishes she wore a sword on her hip and had made a similar threat.

Jon seems oblivious to them though. His eyes nearly scorch her with their heat and intensity.

She sees the scars that cover his chest and a sad gasp escapes.

“No, no,” he says softly, ignoring the other occupants. “It’s alright.”

She’s not alone in seeing his scars. The tales will be circulated throughout the Vale about the man who came back from the dead, the King in the North who could not be killed with mere blades.

There are still a handful of intruders waiting for him to join her beneath the furs.

“All of you…get out!”  How they scurry. “Listen at the door if you wish.  I don’t care.  But you will not watch.”

However, before Petyr escapes with the rest, Jon decides he has something to tell him. He whispers in his ear. Sansa watches his face turn pale long before Jon is finished.

Jon comes to bed as the door snaps shut behind them. “Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you?”

She shakes her head, unable to stop blushing. “He looked at me but he didn’t hurt me.”

“I’ll kill him once it can be done without fear of losing the others.”

“I’m not asking you to do that.”

“I will anyway.”

Deciding that she won’t argue (truly, none would argue with him when he’s like this), she turns the current of their conversation. “I’m cold.”

“Then let me warm you.”

She opens her arms, inviting him closer. She kisses his cheek and then his mouth.

“We don’t have to,” he says as the kisses continue.

“But we will.”

“I will make it pleasant for you.”

You may try, she thinks, not believing it possible.

Oh, she is so wrong.

She wonders vaguely if any have lingered to listen. If they have, they are sure to hear the king’s new bride crying out quite often as he loves her, worshiping her with his mouth and fingers before he ever takes her maidenhead. And even that is far more enjoyable for a first time than she would’ve imagined. He is a skilled and patient lover no matter how hard and cold he may appear to others.

“What did you tell him before he left?” she asks, stroking his strong arm when they lay tangled together afterwards.

Jon’s lip twitch into a wry but wintry smile. “I told him he never had your mother and he’d never have you either.”

She should not laugh. And yet, she does.

[middleofnowhere92]

Ranking all ATLA Villains/Antagonists from worst to best (by someone who loves villains)

This post was inspired by this ask 

Warning: I swear quite a bit in this post and I’m a dumbass, not an ATLA scholar, so take this with a grain of salt. Also I have no idea wtf my ranking criteria was. I assigned arbitrary and meaningless points like Dumbledore giving all the points to Gryffindor at the end of the year. 

Iroh

 I have a secret for you...Iroh is an antagonist.... Say it with me... Iroh is an antagonist. For the people in the back, IROH IS AN ANTAGONIST. He’s not particularly good at at it, but he belongs on this list. Primary reason being, his siege on Ba Sing Se, which was a major battle in the 100 year war and all the other things he did in the war to become a general. If he was good at being a villain, he would at least have the decency to conquer the city, but as Ozai points out, Iroh excels at tea and failure. When we see Iroh in Book 1, He’s a very chill antagonist for the same reason a lot of our other antagonists are (June, the Yuyan Archers, Combustion man etc)-they are helping a villain achieve their goal. In Iroh’s case, he does help Zuko in many ways ( like sneaking him onto Zhao’s ship) and these in turn help Zuko get closer to his goal of capturing Aang. I love Iroh as a character, but he’s not good at being an antagonist, which is why he is ranked the worst. 

Circus Trainer

This man is straight up, evil. I like villains, but I do not like this man. He’s cruel and not in a fun way, which is why he’s near the bottom of the list. The whole point of being a villain is to be cool and do bad things, but he’s not even a little fun to watch. He’s the least interesting to look at... 

Yon Rha

This man is a coward. Like how did he lead the Southern Raiders? He went soft when he got old. He was more savage back in the day. Like this man is a firebender, but he cowers from Zuko before Katara even pops up. He needs to grow a pair. Like Katara said man is pa-thet-ic. 

The Rough Rhinos (ignoring the comics)

They get points for creating my favorite antagonist, Jet. But the first time we see these clowns in the show, the gang just rides away on Appa, easily avoiding them. And then the gang easily defeats them in their next run in. These clowns are good at destroying things, but not really fighting or pursuing others. 

Ozai

I expected more from this man. He was hyped up for three seasons and I just didn’t feel like he was smart enough to be the bad guy for the whole ass show.  The man clearly doesn’t think for himself or show up throughout the series doing  menacing things. The final agni kai overshadowed Ozai and Aang’s showdown. That’s the theme, Azula outshines a grown man as the star villain of the show. He does get some points for his fashion and flair for the dramatic. 

Mai's Uncle (Boiling Rock Warden)

This man, is a dumbass with the reflexes of a sloth. Suki overpowered him in 2 seconds flat. How is this grown man getting defeated by a little nugget like Suki? She was only holding his wrist. He could have just kicked her? Like you are a prison warden, look alive man! And he should have captured Zuko’s little ass and sent him right over to Ozai to get some street cred, but instead he just gets pissed cause Zuko broke up with Mai? First lesson in being a villain/antagonist- power over everything (including family). He does get points for ordering them to cut the line. That’s straight savage. 

Xin Fu and Yu

Toph gets it right, these are two dunderheads. How did they not hear Toph bending metal? They react almost as slowly as the Boiling Rock Warden, letting Toph easily overtake them. They are two skilled benders and they didn’t even stand a chance. 

General Fong

This man gets points for being a bat shit crazy. And I think he’s one of the first non fire nation antagonists we see in the show, so points for him. He’s an underrated antagonist. He does cool bending and his emotional manipulation to get Aang into the Avatar state is A+ villain work. 

Azulon

Azulon gets villain points for keeping the war going. He didn’t fuck it up like Ozai. But Azulon gets his villainness handed to him on a platter, he didn’t really do much, besides maintain status quo. We do get the scene where Ozai asks for the throne. But I don’t think Azulon assumed Ozai was going to kill Zuko. Azulon was trying to make a point, that Ozai’s request was absurd, but he obviously didn’t know Ozai well enough...

Koh

Koh almost didn’t make the list. I don’t really consider him to be an antagonist. Aang came to him asking for information and Koh was trying to do what he does..steal faces. He was just vibing. I included him on this list, because he antagonized us (the viewers). Dude is easily the most terrifying part of the show. 

Ghashiun

He muzzled Appa! He’s not ranked high on this list, because he didn’t know Appa was Aang’s so he wasn’t intentionally trying to fuck with the Avatar. I do like the sandbenders as a whole. They just run around causing chaos with their cool bending. This character, however, loses points, because when he is confronted about stealing Appa, he gets defensive and tries to lie. If you do something bad, at least have the balls to own up to it. 

Wan Shi Tong

Gets points for his flair for the dramatic a la Ozai. I did like Wan Shi Tong’s logic around not giving the gaang information: “You think you're the first person to believe their war was justified?!” He had more brain cells than some of our other villains/antagonists, but was also dumb too? Sokka pretty easily outsmarted him. This Spirit has been alive forever, he shouldn’t be outsmarted by a child. 

The Old Man

Oooof. I almost put him in the number one spot tbh. He did us and Haru so dirty. Like he could have died,but he turned in the person that saved him??? He gets points for shock value and pettiness. I personally think Jet should take him out...

June

June gets points for being a bad bitch. I like her vibe. She’ll do anything as long as you’re paying her the right price and I can respect that. She isn’t higher on the list, because she is executing someone else’s plan, not her own. 

The Yuyan Archers

Speaking of bad bitches, the Yuyan Archers are so cool and I wish they got more screen time! We see very few antagonists that can keep up with Aang the way that this group does. They add a bit of spice and a different flavor to what we know about Fire Nation fighting styles, which I approve of. I hope we see more of them in future ATLA projects. They aren’t higher up, because they are still doing someone else’s bidding. If they had their own leader and their own agenda, that would be some cool shit. 

Combustion Man

This man gets points for giving the gaang a lot of trouble. As viewers, we really worry about whether they will be able to defeat him. I like that he has a different style of bending, which in and of itself is terrifying. He still doesn’t make it up higher on the list, because he’s still doing someone else’s (Zuko’s) bidding.

Rig Warden

On second thought, I may have him ranked a little too high. But oh well, fuck it. He gets many many points for being voiced by George Takei. This man also gets points for having general villain swag. He is sassy and I am here for it. He’s highly effective at crushing the souls of the Earthbenders on the rig. Also, he does not stutter when Haru throws those rocks at him.Came at him full force which is what all the other himbos on this list should have been doing when these children played them! He outright told Katara he was gonna kill her “You’re one mistake away from dying where you stand.” Loses points for begging as he’s dragged off the rig. Go down with some dignity!

The Southern Raiders

So the Southern Raiders get ranked separately from Yon Rha, because he led them towards the end of their conquest. I think they started under Sozin’s reign. This group gets ranked fairly high, because they were very effective at their task. They came, they saw, they decimated-leaving the SWT defenseless and barely able to sustain itself. 

Mai

I like Mai and wish I could rank her higher. I like her knives, they are very cool form of defense that was unique to her. I also love how she just immediately flung arrows at Aang, no hesitation. She does get style points, her aesthetic is everything. Her one liners are pretty funny, “You’re so colorful, you’re making me nauseous.”  She lacks in her commitment. Anytime anything inconveniences her she’s just like eh, no thanks. Hardcore antagonists need to be have some dedication to their cause, which Mai does not.  I feel like she would eventually run out of weapons in a longer battle, which would be a big issue for her. 

Long Feng

Gets instant points for villain swag, creepy vibe and sass. This man kept news of a whole war from Ba Sing Se, even though the city was filled with refugees? Long Feng had his work cut out for him. He loses points, because he lets the children get away with too much. He should have locked down Aaang and co immediately, because they were trouble as soon as they rolled up. Also, he should have fought Azula. He let a fourteen year old take his whole career away. He was never even a player.

Sozin

Sozin gets a  large amount of hypothetical points from being the one to start it all. He’s the one who initiated the 100 year war. He did not play around. He used that comet to its maximum potential. Also he has a dragon, which is fucking cool. He gets bad bitch points for leaving Roku on the exploding island. Like that’s a power move right there. He wiped out the air nomads and invaded the Southern Water Tribe, which is why his successors  are ranked much lower on the list. They really didn’t do shit.

Hama

Gets points for being a waterbender, which is something cool that we hadn’t seen in a villain yet. She also gets points for executing her own deranged agenda. I would love to see her and Jet link up, cause that would have been chaos. She also gets heaps of points for inventing bloodbending. Many of the villains of this list can barely think and homegirl has big brain energy. She is cunning and quick, like when she utilizes Sokka and Aang to attack Katara. I like her general bruja (witch) vibes. She gets more points because she does not motherfucking stutter when Katara figures her out, she just starts bloodbending immediately. She really enjoys her power and I can’t blame her for it. She’s a baddie and she knows it. More points for Hama, because she gets Katara to carry on her legacy (whether she wants to or not) and goes off to jail with her dignity. She’s an all-star villain and I love to see it. She loses a few points, because her bloodbending is limited to the full moon, but she still has her waterbending which is terrifying enough...

Dai Li

Like the rig warden, I probably ranked these himbos too high, but I love them as henchmen. Their bending is amazing, they are sneaky and they can brainwash you? Like fuck me up man. They really are just a joy to watch and their betrayal of Long Feng is so unexpected. This group really creates the creepy/ominous aesthetic the creators were going for in Ba Sing Se. Don’t think their bending is good? They one upped Toph and almost had her, but Jet saved her at the last second. 

Zhao

I feel like Zhao’s characterization is inconsistent (sometimes he has a bad temper, sometimes he doesn’t?) which makes him hard to rank, but let’s do it anyway. He gets points for being voiced by the guy that played Lucius Malfoy, like yaaas work that Slytherin aesthetic. Gets points for using the Yuyan Archers. Loses a lot of points in his fight with Aang, like that child was obviously baiting him. He has a lot of ambition and actually has to work to his rise to power, which he obviously relishes. He’s the perfect antagonist for Zuko. He accomplished his goal of frying the fish/moon and he actually captures Aang. I think the writers added in his hot temper later on, because they realized he was too competent and had to give him a flaw. 

Zuko

Ohhh my morally confused prince, Where do we even start? Zuko gets a lot of points for his sheer determination. I would love to see an unhinged Zuko without Iroh. Zuko’s tenacity and unpredictability make him a fantastic antagonist. Iroh and Azula try to control Zuko, but they never really know what he’s gonna do next and neither do we as the viewers. He’s near the top of the list, because even with so many struggles he kept Aang on the run for two seasons. I like that he actually struggled to be good. He obviously loses points for joining the good guys, but we still love him. 

Jet

Speaking of morally grey, cue up Jet’s theme music. He gets instant points for swag and cool swords. Like the Yuyan archers, Jet is one of the few antagonists we see that can keep up with Aang. Like Zuko, Jet’s dedication to his cause get him high on this list, because he will defeat the Fire Nation at any cause. The creators lose points for being cowards and killing him off. We saw plenty of other people (Sokka) get hit with similar rocks and not die. Jet is a fantastic antagonist with a backstory that the audience can sympathize with. He loses points for not being more versatile in his tactics. I’ve written more on this here. 

Ty Lee

Katara is terrified of her, do I need to elaborate? Ty Lee by far has the scariest skill set on the show. It’s too easy for people to underestimate her. Katara and Suki make that mistake once and then never do it again. Like Toph, Ty Lee knows to wait for the right time to strike, making her highly effective at taking out our favorite benders and whole groups of benders (The Terra Team). Her betrayal of Azula is ICONIC and unexpected, but as always, Ty Lee knows just the right time to strike. I think Ty and Mai were perfectly capable of getting away at the Boiling Rock and I’m disappointed they were captured so easily. 

Azula

Look down, you’re talking to your highness. Can’t see her? She’s the reason for your blindness. 

To the surprise of absolutely no one, Azula is the baddest bitch in the game. PERIODT. She is ruthless, cunning and powerful. Her lightning bending is at a whole other level. She is the smartest person on this list. She takes Ba Sing Se from the inside out, utilizes the Da Li perfectly and has antagonized Zuko from the beginning. As far as I’m concerned, she was made to be Firelord. 

[thechekhov]

Due to popular demand, I’m making a 4-part series about how to make a comic! Check out the other parts while you’re here!

1) Thinking of a story 2) Making characters (this part) 3) Drafting pages (coming not soon) 4) Presentation (coming eventually, we hope)

So, here’s the big question: 

How do you make a good character?

I’m going to have us step back for a moment to say:

There is no such thing as a “Good” Character. Because how good a character is or isn’t is subjective. We can argue back and forth for hours about what we value in a character, but no one will ever agree. You can’t make a character that EVERYONE will like, and you shouldn’t try to.

Instead, I urge you to focus on trying to make ONE or MORE of the following:

Relatable characters

Sympathetic characters

Useful characters

“What the FUCK is goin’ on here I just wanna know” characters

I think they’re pretty self-explanatory, but let’s go through it anyway.

1. Relatable Characters:

What is says on the tin. These are character you and someone else could relate to. Maybe they’re a teenager who hates school. (Timeless classic.) Maybe they’re a young adult down on their luck and in need of money, willing to forgo some moral standards to get by. (Millennials, roll call!) Or maybe they’re just like you (or literally you. We don’t judge self-insert. There’s a reason Write What You Know is a thing.)

Regardless of what you want to believe, many human experiences are universal. Some of them are universally unacknowledged, but they are still universal. You want to just be careful about falling into the ‘my character is so special and the rest of my characters are dumb’ trope. That isn’t interesting - or realistic. 

(source: xkcd)

2. Sympathetic Character:

I also call this the Looking Glass Character. 

Even if most of us have universal human experiences, many of our own experiences are also unique to us. Some experiences are things we will never live through - but we can still sympathise with the emotional state of the characters. If a story allows us to experience new things THROUGH a character, we feel connected to them. 

Keep in mind - this character still has to be somewhat relatable. We have to be able to say “if I was in this situation, I would do that too!” Allowing your readers to believe what is happening makes the reading experience more believable.

(I’m pretty sure none of us have been a half-gem half-human hybrid suffering through trying to right your defected-the-diamond-authority war-criminal mom’s past mistakes, but seeing Steven repeatedly say “I’m fine!” as he descends into madness is something we can all sympathise with.)

Similarly, if your character is in the woods and finds a tiny house on the edge of the prairie and it’s getting dark and the house has flickering lights - whether or not they go inside is inconsequential to sympathy. What matters is if they have a good REASON to go inside. Sometimes, it’s not the actions that’s sympathetic - it’s the motivation! 

(My sister disappeared in just such a house! I must get revenge! vs I’m a bored teenager with a potentially unrequited deathwish and/or a crush on a ghost. Well... scratch that, I can sympathise with both scenarios.)

3. Useful Characters

I was previously asked what to do to avoid making your characters into a Mary Sue. This part will be about that.

Let me start by saying: I don’t think Mary Sues are as prevalent as some people bemoan them to be. 

A Mary Sue is a character that is often described as ‘too perfect’ - they can do everything, know everything, never fail at anything, have a tragic past that excuses every emotional outburst, and are overall just ‘too good to be true’. 

I think, if played correctly, such a character can still be a good one. What makes all the difference is how useful these aforementioned traits are to the plot - or to other characters. 

Let’s acknowledge some universal truths (aside from the one about the men in want of wives and the relation of such a desire in proportion to their fortune):

The plot must go on. That’s obvious. 

In order for the plot to move, there must be things happening (in one sense or another). Also obvious. 

In order for things to happen, there must be a conflict or a tension of some sort. THAT is your litmus test for a ‘Mary Sue’ character. 

“If I remove them from the plot, will the plot suffer any holes? Will they impact the plot or impede it? Will their OP superpowers make some other worldbuilding completely useless? Will their incredibly tragic backstory overshadow another conflict between other characters?”

Characters should be like legos - they must have a function within your plot. Looking cool isn’t a function. Well, sure, it CAN be - but it must also be a function that doesn’t break Newton’s Laws. An object at rest will remain at rest. If your Perfect Character is already flawless, they have no reason to change, ergo nothing needs to happen. 

Make your character serve a use within your plot!

4. WtFiGOHIWK Characters:

Do you ever watch a show, or listen to a podcast or read a webcomic and think to yourself “Okay, cool, but what the FUCK is UP with _____? What’s their deal?!”

I like to categorize these characters in a group of their own. These characters are likable ONLY because we all have a socially wired brain that makes us CRAVE comprehension of social background like drugs. We CRAVE THAT MINERAL. And the mineral is - gossip. Backstory. Tea. The DEETS. 

Many characters are somewhat of an enigma, and the initial plot doesn’t give away all their secrets. We get hooked not because the characters are relatable, and sometimes not even because they’re sympathetic - but because their social tension within a group of other characters is RIDICULOUS and we are wired to want to understand them. 

Everyone has their own examples, but one of my favorites is this asshole:

Do I relate or sympathise with Dr. House? Broadly, no. He’s obscene, rude, and most of the time he’s not even the good guy in any given episode. But his morality roadmap resembles knitting directions for a scarf and his reactions to the most mundane situations are FASCINATING. 

(Never underestimate the power of human curiosity and how strongly it can work to make your readers turn to the next page, even if your whole plot is about a dumpster truck on fire next to a fireworks factory.)

Q: So how do I make a character?

There are several options:

- Wait and do nothing. The character will happen when you least expect it or are least prepared. Now they’re in your head. They won’t leave. aaaaAAAAAAA!

- Take a person or another character you know. Change 3-5 fundamental things about them (I don’t mean name, hair color and shoe size... I mean something PERSONAL, like background, motivations, religion, dream job, species, etc.) BAM character. (I mean, is it QUESTIONABLE to write a story about your sister as a lizard who wants to go to the moon? MAYBE. Should she still be more grateful than she is? ALSO MAYBE.)

- Take yourself and change uhhh... at least one thing about the character. Try to veil the fact that it’s actually just you. Fail. Wipe away tears. Write the story anyway. Hope no one notices. 

- Write a story in your head and then think “Who is the LEAST likely person to participate in these shenanigans?” There’s your character.

Q: What should I avoid in a character? 

Honestly, you can go around to 100 people and ask this, and they’ll give you 100 different answers. What people dislike and like in characters is so vast that there’s NOTHING you can do to stop people from hating on a character. 

But yes, there ARE some overused tropes and I want to share 1 rule that I personally keep to when making characters. (Keep in mind, this is MY personal list. It isn’t the end-all-be-all, and yes, you can argue about this. But don’t @ me, I don’t care.) 

DON’T describe your character as “______ is kind and friendly until you piss them off - then they will kill you.” 

This has been my biggest pet peeve since high school - and it’s unfortunately an absolute staple of any YA character. Someone is ‘friendly’ and ‘nice’ and ‘shy’ UNTIL - you hurt their friends. Then they go berserk. 

I know it’s tempting because ‘usually demure character lets loose their True Potential’ is a very empowering thing to see. (And I admit, I think Mob Psycho 100 pulled this Trope back in by the scruff of its neck and managed to get JUST the right angle for it to work.) 

BUT it’s overused and it tells us absolutely NOTHING about your character. It’s a calorie-free fact. Feels like a description but is actively devoid of any interesting information about your character. 

Why? Because literally EVERYONE is like this. 

We are all, at a baseline, somewhat friendly. That’s... just how most people are. Societal convention tells us we must behave with some semblance of dignity and respect towards others in standard situations in order to keep peace. 

And I daresay getting pissed off and Breaking Character is ALSO a thing that most humans experience. Getting angry when your friends/loved ones are hurt is the bare minimum necessary for being relatable. 

Not to say your character can’t do this but - it doesn’t need to be described as a part of their personality any more than, say, the fact that they have hair on their head. 

Q: How do I make my character more believable? 

Research.

We all hate that word, because school usually teaches us to think of research as boring but it is ESSENTIAL to your desire to make ‘good’ (relatable, sympathetic, useful) characters. 

IF YOU PLAN TO WRITE FOR AN AUDIENCE, THEN YOU NEED TO PUT IN THE EFFORT OF MAKING YOUR CHARACTERS MULTIDIMENSIONAL. 

That means - knowing their background. Knowing details. Knowing cultural, financial, religious terms you need to know to write them believably. 

I know, I know - what if I’m just writing for myself? you say.

Well, fine. If you’re not planning to have your work be widely public, if you’re just having fun and don’t care, then write whatever you want. Make a Japanese character with a Korean name. Force your UK characters to use USA slang. Forgo any historical accuracy. Change up facts! Erase the moon landing, whatever.

But if you want to share your work with people, and if you want people to interact with your writing on a more serious level, then you NEED to know how to use Google and gather at least SURFACE information what you are writing. If you don’t but pretend you did, people WILL be jolted out of their zone.

Research the things and people you are writing about. And more importantly - READ about the experiences of the people you are writing about! Avoiding Stereotypes in this day and age is EASY. You literally have an endless, free encyclopedia in your hands. If you can send a tumblr ask, you can google it. 

That’s all for now, and CHEERS!

[plus-size-reader]

Rejection

Percy Jackson x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1572 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader confesses to Percy but is rejected and kinda embarrassed and ends up ignoring him. It isn’t until they aren’t talking that he realizes how much he cares about her.

——————————————————————————————————

You had never really bonded with any of the other campers before. 

You just remained as distant as humanly possible, because you never felt that the other demigods understood you. You weren’t strong like Annabelle, or vicious like Clarisse. 

If you didn’t have any of those attributes that would be useful on a quest, or in battle, no one seemed to care…

And you just didn’t have it. 

If anything, you were soft, and cautious, doing your very best to keep your cool from moment to moment. However, there was one person who made you rethink all your decisions. 

Percy. 

Percy Jackson came into your life like a whirlwind, practically slaughtering a minotaur right outside the gate of the camp, and taking your heart with it. 

Though, you hesitated when it came to talking to him, and actually communicating the way that he made you feel because you felt like you couldn’t. 

It was pretty clear that he had his eye on someone much better than you, but you knew that if you didn’t tell him soon, you never would and you would always regret it. 

...And that just wasn’t in your nature. 

If there was one thing you had learned from your father, or the stories that were told about him, it was that he was never afraid to go after what he wanted and you needed some of that today. 

You needed that courage to actually tell Percy the truth, and this morning you had made up your mind...Today was the day. 

You were going to confess your feelings over the bonfire tonight, and it was all going to be perfect. Percy wouldn’t care if you weren’t the most brave, or athletic, or confident. He would see the things about you that were worth it. 

He would understand your value, and he would love you for you, assuming that everything was going to go the way you wanted. 

For once, you would feel worthy of the things you wanted.

Though, perhaps you should have known better than to believe that. 

Bonfires had always been the lifeblood of demigods around here and they were the one thing that you really enjoyed more than anything else. Outside of training and constantly fearing for your life, you could let loose and not worry about anything. 

You actually got to be normal for once, and it was all you could have wanted.

All you had to do was harvest the smallest bit of confidence and you would no longer have to worry about anything. At least, that was what you were hoping. 

You actually thought that if you could figure this all out with Percy, that you would be happy. 

...You should have known better. 

It was a total fail. 

You thought that in the noise and hype of the bonfire, no one would be paying much attention to you as you made your way over to where Percy was standing but that wasn’t the case. 

In fact, when you approached him, you could practically hear the surrounding teens whispering in shock. After all, you didn’t ever really talk to anyone at all, and now you thought you could just make friends with Percy Jackson. 

It was crazy, but no one stopped you anyway. 

Looking back, you wished that they had. 

Instead, they stood where they were and just watched the events unfold. They watched as you found your way to his side through the crowd. They watched as you stuttered through your words, but more than anything, they watched as Percy rejected you. 

You had never been more humiliated in your life. 

Even now, as you sat in your cabin, sitting on the ground with your knees brought up to your chest, you were sure that it was the worst thing you’d ever done to yourself. 

Who were you to think that someone like him would ever want to be with you? That a hero like Percy Jackson would waste his time with you when he could have someone like Annabeth. 

She was everything you wished you were. She was beautiful, strong, and slim. She was perfect, and if you had been in Percy’s position, you wouldn’t have chosen you either. 

...But that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

You had been stupid enough to think that all this time, maybe Percy felt the same way about you but that just wasn’t true. No amount of wishful thinking would ever change that. 

You two weren’t even friends to begin with, only talking once and a while in passing or when he would help you adjust your form in training. There was no real reason for you to believe he cared for you. 

That was just the truth in the matter. 

By the time that you’d finished thinking it all over, you came to the conclusion that you would just never speak to him again. If you never addressed what had happened, eventually everyone would forget. 

They had to. 

It would hurt to never talk to him again, sure, but it would be nowhere near as painful as being rejected had been. If anything, it would be easier to just never draw attention to it. 

That was all you could do, the only way that you could retain any amount of dignity in any of this and you were going to do anything it took. 

You couldn’t let them see you cry. 

~ 

You didn’t see anyone until lunch the next day and by that time, you had decided to act as if the events of last night never happened. 

Which, of course, lasted all of seven seconds. 

“Hey Y/N, I think I have feelings for you” someone called from the crowd, eliciting a gaggle of laughter for everyone else. It was hilarious, or at least, it might have been if you cared. 

You didn’t care anymore, no matter what they threw at you, you were determined to not let it affect you. It was all you could do and you weren’t about to let that facade crack. 

Though, it did take some damage when you saw Percy across the way. 

He had been looking at you since you’d made an appearance, just thinking about how everything had gone down last night. If he had given it any thought, perhaps he would have reacted better but you just caught him by surprise. 

That was the last thing he’d expected you to say. 

However, he had clearly hurt you last night, and something had to be done about that. So, before he could talk himself out of it, Percy got up from where he was sitting and made his way over to you. 

“Hi Y/N” he started, sitting down across from you, at the picnic table you’d decided to have lunch at. 

Nothing.

“I just wanted to tell you that I feel really bad about last night. I should have handled it better” 

Again, nothing. 

You wanted to talk to him of course, but you had already made up your mind. Percy had made it very clear how he felt about you, and now it was your turn. 

If you let yourself accept his apology, you were letting yourself be walked all over and that was something you just couldn’t do. Times like this made being Ares’ daughter all worth it. 

If you had to, you could just turn that pesky desire to comply off. You didn’t have to do anything to make anyone feel better, especially not after they hurt you. 

It just came with the territory. 

Should have handled it better? What was he talking about? You had poured your heart out to Percy and he just laughed at you. It was ridiculous, but he didn’t mean to hurt you. 

You knew that. 

Still, you weren’t in the mood to deal with his feeling guilty right now. Instead, you were going to just keep living, in the only way that you knew how. 

You were going to keep quiet and pretend not to know what he was talking about. 

*Bonus*

You hadn’t spoken to Percy in three days, and he’d had just about enough. 

For whatever reason, you had decided that night at the bonfire was the last night you were ever going to speak to him or look in his general direction and it was starting to bother him. 

Perhaps he just didn’t say the right things, but whatever it was, he was over it. 

“Y/N, I need to talk to you” he decided finally, catching you off guard with his sudden approach. He had no idea where he was going with this or how you would react. 

He just knew that he had to give it a shot. 

“I’m sure we’ve done all the talking that we can do” you huffed, over it already. You had nothing to say to him, not really and he needed to understand that. 

Percy had made a fool out of you, and you weren’t going to forget about that just because he felt bad. 

“I have feelings for you too, I just didn’t realize it before” he gasped, catching you by the wrist before you could leave his side entirely. It wasn’t as smooth as he would have liked, but it had to happen. 

If he didn’t come out with it, you would have left and he may not have gotten another chance. 

If he lost you, Percy would never forgive himself. 

[aromantic-misguide-to-romance]

Can please do a summary of the Let Your Hair Down Devilgram?

Of course! x3

Devilgram summaries, Let Your Hair Down

in which teens millenia years old demons make a huge party when parents older brothers are not home and get embarrassingly drunk.

Beel, Asmo and Satan come to lunch to discover there’s going to be only them during the meal. Lucifer, Mammon and Leviathan went to the Demon Lord’s Castle in an urgent business and won’t be home for a while. There are six plates though and six portions so Beel comes to the conclusion he’ll take care of it.

Regarding the whole evening though… What do our demons decide? It’s time for a PARTY!

Or that’s what Asmo decides. He absolutely wants to “bond ❤️” with his brothers! Beel rolls with that because there’s going to be food and Satan gracefully admits that he was outvoted so let’s throw a party.

Belphie doesn’t vote because he’s likely in the attic.

Asmo takes care of the preparations and… well, thing immediately get out of hand, because obviously he organised a party for the whole Devildom. Including the other exchange students such as Solomon, Simeon and Luke. MC isn’t present, probably because they don’t even know yet they’re going to be an exchange student in hell.

Maybe it’s good, because the party is huge, as Simeon notices, completely baffled, and Satan agrees. He regrets very much leaving it to Asmo. Asmo got out of hand, Solomon confirms. Luke is OUTRAGED at the behaviour of the participants, who fool around with absolutely NO DECENCY. He’s totally going to snitch to Michael how horrible it is, he announces to Simeon, ordering demonus... well, let's hope that just for the other three.

Simeon, seriously, take a better care of the child goddammit.

Soon everyone had enough to drink to enjoy themselves, Satan is drunk enough to praise Beel for being a good conversation partner. Beel is happy to hear that and pours him a horn of demonus which Satan very much appreciates! Probably because normally Beel would pour all of the drink into his own mouth, so the fact the demonus actually made it into the glass means they’ve bonded A LOT.

Asmo sees how happy they are and wants to join it, but no! Don’t force your way into a CONVERSATION, Asmo! Satan sends Asmo back to the fanclub Asmo was entertaining just a moment ago. But Asmo had enough of the appreciation?! What is wrong, Asmo?! Did you eat something bad?!

I guess it was just because Asmo had too much salt to share with his brothers, because a few glasses of demonus later, Asmo gets wasted enough to start ranting about how Lucifer, Mammon and Levi should value the younger brothers more! I am sure they’ll see their values just upon coming back and finding the party with those millennia years old teens getting too drunk for their own good when left unsupervised for a moment.

Satan agrees the three oldest are so damn arrogant! The two keep passionately agreeing how the treatment is not okay! How they should stand up for themselves! How the three oldest should be giving THEM attention! Okay, this argument is obviously Asmo’s. Satan doesn’t particularly want attention, he’s just annoyed he’s supposed to stay out of the way of the oldest three. Even Beel agrees because they’re not giving him enough to eat and he’s still growing!

Solomon observes them with Simeon from a distance, definitely having a lot of fun watching their drunken rambling. I’m sure the two will have even more fun when Lucifer & Co. come home and see the chaos happening.

Asmo, Satan and Beel really bond and take turns complaining. Beel surprisingly has a lot of anger to express, because he absolutely hates how Levi INVADES the fridge to take some snacks in the middle of the night, when the kitchen is Beel’s reign. Asmo is jealous of Mammon’s position as Lucifer’s fave. Considering how Lucifer’s favouritism manifests itself, I’m concerned for Asmo, tbh. How horrible of Lucifer to favour Mammon! Yes, Satan agrees, Lucifer is horrible. Arrogant, high and mighty. Asmo though considers it absolutely cool which is a betrayal according to Satan. Then they’re finished with trashing Lucifer and move on to roast Mammon in turns and Levi too.

Aaaaand just when they come back to roasting Lucifer and Asmo complains how he lost all respect to Lucifer... the parents older brothers are back. And oh boy, in their demon forms, because they heard the roasting. I guess the party’s now over and it looks like the three youngest are going to get a beating of a century, and cannot even defend themself because they’ve eaten and drunk too much.

Then Asmo saves the day! Or the night, and drunkenly leaps at Lucifer and confesses his love!

Quick thinking saves them all as we all know Lucifer is completely incapacitated when exposed to affection. Caught in Asmo’s grip he suddenly loses his powers and shifts back! The other two quickly decide their lives might still be saved if they abandon all dignity!

With two further “I love you, Lucifer”s, all three older brothers are so grossed out they lose all the will to fight.

Phew. In the end no one dies!

I’m pretty sure Asmo, Satan and Beel bonded a lot during the Devilgram. After all, nothing connects people as effectively as complaining and bad-mouthing others together! 😌

[p-artsypants]

Integrity

Integrity is the practice of being honest and showing a consistent and uncompromising adherence to strong moral and ethical principles and values. In ethics, integrity is regarded as the honesty and truthfulness or accuracy of one's actions.

-

Overwhelmed with her responsibilities, guilt, and drama, Marinette has an emotional breakdown in front of everyone, and even hands over her earrings in a moment of weakness. Only for a few seconds, but the damage was done. Adrien’s pretty quick on the uptake like that.

I got this idea from a sermon a few weeks ago. It was supposed to just be a one shot, and then it got out of hand. This will have maybe two more chapters.

FF.net | Ao3

—

Nino would feel guilty in the days to come after unconsciously making her burst into tears, Marinette knew. It wasn’t actually his fault, but there was so many layers to this onion that she couldn’t explain it if she wanted to.

I had been a simple request. He was going on to create a sequel of Horrificator, with Mylene and Ivan starring again. He had simply asked if she would be able to create a costume that matched the akuma on film, though it didn’t need to be perfect, since they’d be filming it Blair Witch style.

Before she could even respond, Lila had butted her head into the conversation and said something along the lines of ‘oh my father’s college roommate is a famous monster movie costume designer! He could totally whip something up for you!’

Her butting in hadn’t been the problem. Marinette was totally used to it now. She practically expected it.

“Oh that’s awesome, Lila!” Alya had chirped. “That would be so amazing!”

“Yeah dude! We’re going to start filming soon, so if you could reach out to him and give me an answer about it, that would be awesome!”

“Of course! And that way you don’t need to bother Marinette. She always so busy in the bakery…”

“I would have loved to do the costume.” Marinette clarified. “It really isn’t a problem. So if this falls through, let me know, okay?”

“Thanks Marinette!” Nino beamed.

Then Lila smirked. And Marinette sensed that she had sealed her own doom.

How? Easy.

Lila would put off on confessing that her contact was busy, and then Marinette would be forced to work too quickly and do a half-assed job, or reject it completely.

Making her look like a flake, or a bad designer.

She rolled her eyes at the thought, and took out her sketchbook and pulled up the Ladyblog on her phone. Of course Lila had no contact. There was no reason to wait for a response. She’d might as well just get started on it now.

“It’s so cool that you know so many people, Lila!” Alya said from her side.

“Oh, I try not to think about it too much. I don’t want to be a braggart.”

Marinette bit her tongue, trying not to respond.

From in front of her, Adrien had leaned his head on his arm, on her desk, watching her work. “That’s smart.” He said softly. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“Thanks Adrien.” She smiled at him, a little solemnly. Her stuttering was mostly gone now. She was trying to be a good friend and let him go for Kagami’s sake. But it was so hard! Especially since they weren’t official yet.

Alya sat next to her, ignoring her ‘jealousy’ to her classmate. “Girl, before you came around, Marinette was doing everything around here! Now we’ve got you so we can pull from all different talent pools!”

Except they weren’t. It was still Marinette.

Doing everything. As class representative, as craftsman, as liaison, as a tutor, and even a therapist. She was constantly bending over backwards to help.

And still no one appreciated her. Now she was working with shorter deadlines, and less respect. More skepticism and less mercy.

Everyone was taking advantage of her, and she was too nice to put a stop to it.

Or too naïve to notice it was even happening in the first place.

Of course, this was all on top of her guardian and Ladybug duties, which was already a full time job. And also a full time student, with remarkable grades!

And she was expected to do her chores and help out part time in the bakery.

She couldn’t remember the last time she designed something for herself.

“Of course,” clarified Nino, who had been sitting on his desk, “when you’re working with famous people, things don’t always work out. That’s why it’s nice to have Marinette around! She’s so clever! She always finds a solution!”

It was supposed to be a compliment. He was trying to let her know they still liked her and needed her.

But it came to a screeching halt with Nino’s words.

“Marinette?” Adrien asked, noticing the tears first.

She covered her mouth, lest she sob out loud and get too much attention.

But the concern in Adrien’s voice had already grabbed the attention of those around her.

“Girl...” Alya said with far too much pity. “There’s no reason to get upset.”

“Yeah Marinette.” Said Lila, with fake sympathy. “I know you want to be helpful, but you’re only one person. There’s no reason to be jealous. You can’t master everything!”

“Lila, maybe you should stop talking.” Adrien said patiently. “You know she doesn’t like you.”

“And I can’t imagine why! I’ve only ever been nice to her!”

Alya winced. “It’s...complicated.”

Lila gasped. “You’re not still jealous because of Adrien are you? After all, he’s dating Kagami, and she’s your friend! That’s not fair to me, Marinette!”

Any minute now, Marinette was going to burst into gut wrenching, uncontrollable sobbing. And she would rather do it as Ladybug so she could snatch up the Akuma before they landed. Classes were over for the day anyway. She had just stayed behind to attempt to socialize with her friends for just a few minutes.

Looked like that was in vain.

She stood, “I have to go.”

Alya grabbed her wrist. “No you don’t. Let’s just sit and talk this out.”

Lila continued to twist the knife. “Yeah Marinette. Let’s air our grievances like adults. We can be friends.”

But Marinette frantically scooped her belongings into her bag, holding onto every shred of dignity that she could, while Lila continued to rip it away from her.

“Can’t you see how your stubbornness is hurting your friends? You’re causing a lot of unnecessary drama.”

“Lila’s right, you know. Acting like this is really hurtful to me.” Said Alya, still full of sympathy.

She should have stayed silent, but her anguish spoke for her. “I’ve told you again and again that I don’t like Lila because she’s a liar. No one believes me, so there’s no point in talking about it!” Her voice cracked at the end.

“Marinette, we know Lila has a condition that causes her to misremember information. That doesn’t mean she’s maliciously lying!”

Marinette shook with untapped rage. She was a ticking time bomb. “She is though. She threatened me. I warned her that her lies were going to catch up to her, and she said that she was going to war with me. To take my friends away from me!”

“How dare you!” Lila shouted, with a pathetic snivel.

She was overacting, to be honest.

“You did that to me! How dare you try to make me the villain?! I was willing to let it go, but apparently, you’re worse than I believed!”

“Are you sure you aren’t misremembering that too, Lila?” Marinette bit.

“I could never forget the attempt someone made on my life! You gave me nightmares! You threatened to kill me! All because I was talking to the boy you were in love with—no! Obsessed with!”

“Marinette!”

“That’s awful!”

“Why would you do such a thing?!”

But Marinette didn’t respond, knowing that it was futile, just shouldered her backpack, half empty coffee cup in hand.

Adrien, bless his heart, packed up with her. “I’ll walk with you,” he offered.

Eloquence was not on her side, nor was grace or kindness. All that was holding her together was the utter desire to get away. “Leave me alone!” She shouted, before leaving.

Or, attempting to leave. She was short on the step and slipped, thrusting her coffee cup forward and right onto Lila.

“Ow!!” Lila cried, as the day-old lukewarm coffee hit her. “It burns!!”

Marinette, who wasn’t buying the pain, did feel guilt for spilling coffee. Because even if it wasn’t hot, it still stained. “Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry Lila! That was an accident! Let me run home, I’ll get you a change of clothes!”

“You did that on purpose!” Lila sobbed, holding her arm. “I think it might be third degree!! Ow!”

“Marinette, seriously? What’s wrong with you? You’re out of control girl!” Alya scolded. “We need to tell the principal about this!”

“What? No! That was a complete accident! But the coffee is from this morning, it shouldn’t even be warm—“

“Come on Lila, let’s go see the nurse!” Rose, ever vigilant and noble, grabbed the lying girl and escorted her out of the room.

Marinette stood there quaking. Stupid. Unfair. Cruel. Why had fate turned everything against her? Why was everything unraveling?

Why did she mess up with every step?

“Marinette—“ Alya started.

Furious, and not quite herself, Marinette poured the rest of the coffee on the desk, on Alya’s hand.

“Hey!”

“She’s a liar! She’s always been a liar, and that’s all she’ll ever be!” Then she finally stalked out of the room.

Alya scoffed with a shake of her head. “God, bitterness is so ugly.”

“I’m going after her.” Adrien stated, making sure he had everything.

“Dude, leave it. Marinette’s always upset these days. Don’t worry about it. If what Lila says is true, we should just let her go. We should be more concerned about Lila.”

Though Alya didn’t quite share the sentiment as she touched the puddle of cold coffee on the desk. “Well...Lila might be being a little dramatic, or it could be shock. Either way, it’s just another day of drama. Marinette just needs to calm down. Even if she did have a lapse of judgement, that doesn’t mean we can’t just let bygones be bygones.”

Always upset these days? Was she really? How much of a friend to her was he if he had never noticed before?

Ignoring his other friends, Adrien left the classroom, hoping to catch up to her.

She was in the locker room, packing up her bag while she trembled and hiccuped.

“Marinette?” He asked.

“Please leave me alone.” She whispered.

He frowned, coming closer. “I don’t think I want to.”

“I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Like how?”

She shrugged her shoulders miserably. “Weak? Ugly? Pathetic? Take your pick!”

“What? Because you’re crying? That’s not weak at all. And you want to see an ugly crier? I’m an ugly crier.”

“I highly doubt that.” She whispered.

“No really! I get all snotty and hiccupy. When you cry...your eyes get all sparkly.”

Adrien had seconds to brace himself as her lips trembled, before she started to sob.

“Hey...” he reached out for her, wrapping his arms around her slowly so she could pull away. But instead, she just returned the hug, burying her face in his shoulder.

He could feel her tears leaking through. Still, he just held her, rubbing her back gently.

Suddenly, a switch flipped and she shoved him away. “No! No I can’t!”

“Marinette?” He asked, startled.

“It’s not fair! I can’t take comfort from you!”

“Sure you can!” He laughed incredulously. “I’m here for you, Marinette.”

“It’s not fair to Kagami!”

“Kagami? She’d want me to comfort my friend.”

Marinette trembled. “No! It’s more than that! You’re with her and I can’t cry on you because I don’t want to hurt her because I’m in love with you and it’s not fair to take advantage of you! It’s not fair that you don’t know that!”

His eyes blew wide. “You...what? Lila was telling the truth?”

Marinette made a horrible choking sound as she realized what she blurted. “No no no...no this can’t be happening. I didn’t, no I—I’m just a fan! I love you, like a friend! Like—like—!” She sobbed. “Ugh! I’m ruining everything! Everything is falling apart! Why am I so stupid?!”

Adrien grabbed her arm tightly, almost painfully. “Marinette, we need to go.”

She looked up sharply, seeing that he wasn’t looking at her.

He was looking at the black butterfly crawling through the edge of the window.

“No, you—you’ve got things to do. I’ll go—“

He squeezed her tighter, “you’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you alone.”

“But—“

“Come on!” He yanked her, pulling her out from the locker room and into the courtyard, where students were milling about. Including their classmates.

“Oh Marinette—“ began Alya.

“Shut up!” Adrien retaliated.

“No!” Marinette dug her heels in as a purple light formed a mask over her face.

Adrien didn’t let go. Couldn’t let go. He didn’t see where the Akuma had landed. Her bag? Her hair ties?

Marinette trembled. “I—I can’t. I won’t!”

Adrien turned to her, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Marinette? Marinette listen to me. Look at me. You don’t need him, okay? You’re smart, and wonderful, and kind. He’s not going to help you. He’s lying to you. You hate liars, right?”

Marinette nodded mutely.

“Then tell him to piss off!”

“I can’t—“ she choked. “I can’t be akumatized. I can’t!”

“And you won’t!” Adrien argued. “There’s always a solution, no matter how bleak or overwhelming. And I will help you fix this!”

Marinette clenched her eyes shut, every muscle in her body coiled tight.

Then she whispered out, in a very even tone, “Hawkmoth, leave me alone.”

The light disappeared, and the black butterfly flew away.

For a few moments, everyone was tense, still, and silent, the only sounds coming from Marinette as she stifled her cries. Adrien moved his hands from her face down to hold her hands.

Then she collapsed, and started wailing.

Powerful, horrible, heartbreaking wails. The wails of hopelessness, fear, and loneliness, bubbling and bursting out of her like a waterfall. On and on, she just screamed, not caring who heard or saw.

The crowd was at a cross between embarrassed and concerned. Some wanted to give her privacy, some wanted to just leave. Either way, everyone eventually trickled away. Her classmates leaving last.

Adrien crouched, sitting beside her. Close enough she could lean on him if need be, but far enough away for her to pretend she had privacy. But he kept his hand on the back of her neck, moving across her shoulders occasionally for support.

“Marinette,” he moaned, once they were alone. “I know you must need to cry…but I can’t bare to watch this…do you want to talk about it? What happened? This isn’t just about what just happened in the classroom. Although that didn’t help...”

“It’s Lila!” She screamed. “And-And Alya! And you! And Master Fu! And Luka—And And—!” She wailed, her words turning into moans.

“Whoa whoa whoa what?”

She just wailed harder.

He exhaled slowly. “Okay, that’s a lot to unpack…” He glanced around, taking note of the lack of people. Fencing started soon, but he was obviously skipping.

“Marinette? Don’t you want to go to your house?” He asked softly.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what to do!”

“Hey, hey, let’s breathe together. Okay?” At least she wasn’t screaming anymore.

She hiccuped a few times, but finally took a deep breath along with Adrien.

“Okay.” He said, smiling at her. “You’re doing great. Now let’s slowly talk things out. Once we know what we need to do, we can take care of your problems in little chunks.”

“I can’t tell you my problems!” She yelled, clenching her fists. “That’s the whole problem! I can’t tell anyone! Not my parents! Not my friends, not—“ she cupped her hands over her mouth, holding back a sob.

“Oh Marinette...”

“No! No I can’t do this anymore! I’m 15! I can’t handle this kind of pressure! I’ve ruined all of it! Paris needs someone better, and I can’t even handle my own problems let alone everything else demanded of me.” She fumbled with her earrings, before slapping them down in his hand. “You take them! They’re your responsibility now! I quit!”

A flash of pink took over the earrings as they went from the plain black stones she wore, to the flat gray stubs he saw as his stint as Mister Bug.

He choked.

His reaction snapped her out of her hysteria. “I shouldn’t have done that! I should not have—!” She swiped the earrings back and put them back on with fumbling hands. “I need to go before anything else happens! I’m a walking disaster!”

“Hey, whoa whoa whoa, Marinette—“

“No, stop talking!” She snapped. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just—panicking.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” He sighed, and then took her hand in his. “Look, let’s get out of here. We’ll go to your house.”

“But—But don’t you—aren’t you—will someone be looking for you?”

“I have fencing.”

“I don’t want you to be late!”

“Marinette! I’m skipping!”

“Really?”

“Yes! You’re way more important to me then some stupid sport!”

“But—“

He helped her to her feet. “I’ll text Kagami so she can cover for me. Don’t worry about it, Marinette.”

“...I just don’t want to burden you.”

“You’re not. I’m promise, you’re not.”

She gripped his sleeve. “You can’t tell Kagami, or—or anyone. Please Adrien, I didn’t mean to say it. It’s not...not that I don’t trust you. I’m just...” she sighed in frustration. She was so overwhelmed, words weren’t coming the way she wanted them to.

“Marinette, I get it.” He assured, taking hold of the hand gripping him. “You trusted me with the snake, even though I failed back then, I never breathed a word of it to anyone. I’m not going to say anything. See, I’ve already forgotten what you said.”

She managed a watery giggle. “Thanks Adrien.”

“Now come on. Let’s go talk somewhere private.”

Resigned, Marinette allowed Adrien to tug her along. On the front steps, students were milling around, having evacuated the courtyard. Adrien didn’t say a word to anyone, while Marinette kept her eyes firmly on the ground.

Once they were away from the school, Tikki peered out of the bag, taking note of the fat tears rolling down Marinette’s cheeks. She was spiraling again, assuming the worst.

But Chat Noir was here, and they’d work everything out.

In the bakery, however, things reached a fever pitch as Lila, still wet with coffee, stood at the counter, talking to Sabine.

The conversation halted as the little bell above the door chimed.

Lila just looked at them and smirked, her face turned away from Sabine.

“Thank you for telling me, young lady. I’ll handle everything.” The woman said, edge in her voice.

Lila nodded pitifully and walked passed them to the door.

As she passed Adrien, she whispered, “I’m going to your father next.” And then left without a rebuttal.

Marinette looked at him, wide-eyed and horrified. “Did she just—?”

“Adrien,” Sabine said sternly. “Thank you for escorting Marinette home. But I have to ask you to leave. I need a word with my daughter.”

Adrien panicked for a moment, not sure how to navigate this situation. He never talked back to authority figures.

Well, not as Adrien. But his Lady was in danger, so Adrien was going to sit this one out, and let his Chat Noir persona deal with it. He held up a hand. “Mrs. Cheng. I don’t know what Lila just told you, and frankly, I don’t want to know.” His tone was stern and demanding, one he adopted from his father in the most cutthroat situations. It was scary, to Sabine and Marinette. “Lila Rossi is a liar and has been harassing Marinette for a while now. She’s the one responsible for her expulsion, and lying to get it reversed as well. I’ve spent the last—“ he took out his phone to look at the time. God. “I’ve spent the last hour holding Marinette while she cried. That gave Lila plenty of time to come here and do damage.”

Sabine just stared between him and Marinette. “Marinette, is this true?”

She could only sniff and nod.

“Madam Cheng?” He said, a little softer. “My father doesn’t trust me. I never did anything to warrant that treatment, but he doesn’t. It hurts that I don’t have an adult I can turn to when I need help. Don’t be like that to Marinette.”

Sabine gasped a little. It was harsh, of course, but seein0g Marinette—his lady—so broken was stirring up some ugly emotions in him.

“I’m not leaving.” He told her. “Marinette needs me.”

“Of course dear. Thank you so much. I found it hard to believe that Marinette would become violent with anyone, but after that ridiculous expulsion, I didn’t know what to believe. I’m not at school, I know Marinette, but—“ she shook her head.

“I tripped.” Marinette whispered. “The coffee was cold. It was an accident.”

“Now that, I believe,” Sabine hummed fondly. “Madam Rossi probably deserves a phone call. Why don’t you two go up to her room? I’ll bring up some tea in a bit.”

Adrien massively sighed. “Thank you Madam Cheng. And...sorry for being rude.”

“You were stern. It was important.” She walked over and hugged her daughter, petting her hair. “Marinette, I’m so sorry for making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about this. I trust you, both of us do.” She kissed her head. “Don’t be afraid to ask for help every once in a while, okay?”

Marinette could only nod against her.

“I’ll let you two go. When you’re calmer, you can tell me what happened, if you want. Either way, I’ll disregard what that girl said.”

“Thank you, Maman.” Marinette whispered.

“Of course baby.” She kissed her forehead tenderly.

Then Adrien took Marinette’s hand again and pulled her away upstairs.

Once in her room, Marinette sat on her chaise, pulling her legs up to her chest. She was silent.

Adrien grabbed a blanket from her bed, and wrapped it around her shoulders, then sat by her side and pulled her to lean against him.

“Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here to listen.”

She whimpered. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“...of saying something I’m not supposed to. I wasn’t supposed to tell you about...any of that. It just all came out.”

“Sounds like you’ve been bottling yourself up. That’s not healthy, Marinette.”

She pushed away from him, standing, her back to him. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I really appreciate you being here with me, but...it’s just too dangerous. And, like I said, it’s not fair to Kagami.”

Adrien huffed, his bangs fluttering over his forehead. “Marinette...I’m just trying to help.”

“And I appreciate that, but I can handle it.” Then quietly, more to herself. “I have to handle it.”

Swallowing a growl, he looked at his stubborn lady. “What about Chat Noir?”

She hunched her shoulders. “What about him?”

“Have you talked this out with him? Does he know you’re struggling?” He knew the answer, but he was curious to what she would say. Would she lie?

Her hiccups and sniffles weren’t exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t surprising. “He’s already so disappointed with me!”

“What?” He stood too, whirling to face her. “What are you talking about?”

“It was written all over his face during the last fight! He knows I gave away my mentor’s identity! I’m the reason Chloé got upset! And I keep stringing him along!” She sobbed. “He had to do everything in that last fight! I couldn’t plan, or think or—or do anything! And he hasn’t talked to me since!”

Adrien’s warm hands landed on her shoulders. “Marinette, Ladybug, you know that’s not true right? Chat’s your partner. He’d never be disappointed in you!”

“How do you know?”

He shrugged. It wasn’t the right time to reveal himself. She was already dealing with so much. Surely revealing himself would cause another spiral. “I just do.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

He pulled her back down to the chaise to sit, and rested a warm hand on her back. Then he eased her over to lean against his shoulder again.

“I won’t say a thing. I’m not Adrien, I’m not anyone. Just a pillow with ears. Why don’t you talk it all out. And once you’re done, I’ll stuff this day far into the back reaches of my mind where no one will find it. All your secrets are safe with me.”

Marinette started to relax against him, despite the absolute panic of being close to her crush. He was warm, and his arms held her securely. She felt safe.

Tikki made her appearance, coming out of Marinette’s bag that had been set on her desk. “Marinette?”

Marinette only looked back at her, ashamed and embarrassed.

“It’s alright. You can trust Adrien,” is what she said. Not, “you‘ve failed and I hate you. How dare you!” There was no judgement, no reprimanding. Just comfort.

She wanted to cry again, but Adrien petted her head, a soothing rhythm.

With a shuddering breath, she began, “Lila’s been threatening me. I knew she was lying because I’m Ladybug. I didn’t like that she was using my name to get close to you. I saw her getting away with all these other lies too because no one bothered to fact check her. It was frustrating that every time I urged Alya to listen, she wrote me off as jealous. I’m not jealous of her. I have no reason to be. But because I have a...crippling crush on you—“ she bit her lip.

Adrien gave no reaction.

She continued, “—I was automatically deemed jealous because she was talking to you. Lila confronted me in the bathroom, fake concerned about my well being when I was moved to the back of the classroom. But when I told her I knew she was lying, and that everyone would figure her out, she threatened me. She said she was going to make me her enemy, that my friends would leave me behind and you’d—you’d be with her. I tried to ignore it, and take the high road like you suggested, but...”

“Did you tell anyone she threatened you?”

“...no.”

“Why?”

“I was so scared Alya would treat it like every other thing I said to her about Lila. She’d pass it off as jealousy. She’s supposed to be my best friend but she doesn’t believe me!!”

“Forget about Alya then. If she doesn’t believe you, then that’s her fault. You’ve got nothing to prove. What about anyone else?”

Marinette shuttered. “I thought...no one would believe me.”

“Even me?”

She pushed away from him, hugging herself, the guilt starting to creep back in. “I can barely talk to you...how was I supposed to tell you I was being threatened?”

“That’s fair, I guess. I just...I could have helped you.”

She was quiet, hugging her arms to her chest. “I...didn’t think about it. It was my problem to deal with. And I’m not great at asking for help. I’m sorry.”

“Aw, you don’t need to apologize for that Marinette. You didn’t do anything wrong. Lila’s the one with the stick up her ass.”

Marinette giggled. She had never heard Adrien swear before.

Suddenly, Adrien’s phone rang, interrupting the conversation. He sighed heavily. “Gee, I wonder who that could be.” He took it out, and saw Nathalie’s name. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. Then you can have my full attention.”

She highly doubted that, but nodded him on.

He answered, “hi Nathalie.”

“Adrien, your father wants you home immediately. Considering that you answered, I’m assuming that you’re not in practice anymore...or maybe you never went.”

Adrien swallowed, but realized there was no point in arguing. Not with her at least. “Put my father on, please.”

“You can talk to him when you come home.”

“This is urgent, Nathalie, give the phone to my father.” He couldn’t keep the bite out of his tone, but allowed his protectiveness to take the reins, filling him with adrenaline.

“One moment.”

The phone went quiet before Gabriel’s voice cut in, “Adrien, I want you home. Now. You are in danger with that girl—“

“Do you trust me?”

Gabriel sighed, “I’d trust you more if you did as I asked.”

“No, father, I need to know if you will listen to me and believe me when I have something important to tell you.”

“Yes yes,” he said, and Adrien could imagine him flipping his hand. “What is it, Adrien? What is so important?”

“Lila Rossi has been sexually harassing me.” He blurted. Not the argument he was planning on making, but one that might make his father listen to him.  

Gabriel paused before asking, “what?” All anger in his voice had evaporated, which was new.

“She touches me without my permission. And she threatens any other girls that get close to me. I don’t know what she told you about Marinette, but she’s been threatening her for a while. Marinette had a break down at school. I’m trying to comfort her.”

A pair of slender arms wrapped around his waist from behind in a gentle hug. She rested her cheek against his spine. Adrien rested a hand over hers, appreciating the comfort.

For once, Gabriel didn’t respond. Adrien took that as a cue to keep going.

“I don’t feel safe around Lila. She lies to people to get her way. She got Marinette expelled almost effortlessly. I’m scared that she’ll do something like that to me. To us. What’s stopping her from accusing me of sexual harassment or worse?” He swallowed. “Please don’t make me model with her anymore.”

Gabriel continued to be silent, and Adrien took it as quiet contemplation.

Finally, Gabriel responded. “You’re concerns are valid. You make very good points. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

Adrien exhaled in a whoosh.

“I will be working through dinner, so you may stay with the Dupain-Chengs if they’ll have you. Just be home by 8. I’d like to talk with you more about this then.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Thank you for being honest with me, son.” And he hung up.

Adrien took a shaky breath as Marinette pulled away from him. “Sorry for the hug, I know you were just talking about being sexually harassed—I just know that was a hard conversation to have and—“

“Marinette.” He stopped her, holding her hand. “It’s more than okay. You can hug me whenever you like. I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” He smiled. “Your hugs, whether intentional or not, are nice.”

She blushed.

“I-I mean...Lila and Chloe hang on me, or clamp down like...like a pair of handcuffs. You hold me. Sure, but gentle enough I can pull away. It’s nice.”

Still blushing, and unable to look him in the eye, she hugged him again, hiding her face in his chest.

He gathered her close, savoring her touch. He had found her. Finally. Of course, it was in a horrible way, and she didn’t know who he was. But he found her, and he still loved her without the mask. That’s more than he ever could have asked for.

“Your hugs are really nice too.” She mumbled into his shirt.

He snickered, imagining her reaction if he was Chat. He couldn’t help but think it would be a little different. “Alright,” he pulled away slightly. “My problems are on hold. Let’s get back to you. Let’s get back to what caused you to cry in class. What got you so suddenly upset? Because you started crying before Lila blurted out all that stuff. Was it Lila making another bogus offer?”

She shook her head. “No...it’s stupid.”

“It’s obviously not stupid if it made you cry.”

She sighed, but didn’t pull away this time. Her walls began to crumble, since he was Adrien and he was so kind.

“It wasn’t Lila. It was actually Nino.”

“Nino? Really? What did he do? Do you need me to kick his butt?”

She smiled softly. “No, he didn’t do it on purpose. I think it was supposed to be a compliment...”

“And that was...?”

“He said that it was nice to have me around when things fail because I always have the solution.” Her eyes watered as she spoke.

“Oh. Hmm. I guess I don’t really see why that would have bothered you? I mean, you are really smart and clever, and quick too! You always know what to do.”

“But I don’t!” She threw her arms in the air and began to pace. “That’s just it! I can come up with problem solvers when facing an Akuma! And occasionally I have good ideas for dealing with school problems! But right now? I don’t know what the heck I’m doing!” She shouted, a few tears leaking out. “My mentor is gone, and it’s my fault! I gave away his identity to Hawkmoth and he in turn gave up his memories to protect me and Chat! Now I’m the guardian of the Miraculous and I’m only 15! So not only do I have to deal with that big mess, but I have to deal with balancing being a full time student and superhero without letting anyone catch onto what’s happening, which requires a lot of lying, which I hate doing!! And now with Lila making these bogus claims and no one listening to me, I’m left scrambling to pick up the mess she makes because I’m the class representative and I’m terrified of disappointing my friends more! I’m already on thin ice with the class and being a social outcast might just break me! So I have to put aside my own problems to deal with Paris and my fickle classmates. I just keep watching you grow farther away, and Chat become more and more disappointed and heartbroken, and Luka become more impatient and I don’t even have the emotional energy to decide which one hurts me more!” She outright sobbed.

“Marinette...” Adrien breathed, not able to say much else.

“Just for once, I want my problems to just—solve themselves. Because I’m so tired and I’m so scared! I messed up so badly today—what about tomorrow? What if my next break down is in front of Hawkmoth?”

Adrien stood slowly, approaching her like a wild animal. “Hey...if it’s any consolation, you are completely justified in having this break down. This is an unbelievable amount of stress you have. I’m surprised you didn’t crack earlier.”

“I did. Right before Miracle Queen. Luka found me then. I felt awful for crying on him, because I know he cares about me...but I just don’t feel the same. I like him, I really do, but I can’t—“ she shook her head. “I’m just leading him on at this point. I’m so terrible.”

“I know exactly how you feel.”

She looked up at him, seeing the sympathy in his eyes. He looked miserable.

“That’s exactly how I feel about Kagami.”

Marinette wiped the tears from her cheek. “What?”

“She said that my indecision hurt her, which I get but...I can’t just stop loving—“ he turned red, and turned his face away, “sorry, we’re focusing on your problems. Not mine.”

“No, don’t. Adrien, who are you in love with, if not Kagami?”

The desperation in her voice forced him to look at her. He felt extremely embarrassed and guilty. All this time, he declared he’d know her anywhere, and yet how was he supposed to explain that he looked right passed her?

“Um...” he said smartly.

“Please?”

“It’s...you. I’m in love with you.”

She choked, her face turning red. “You...are? But I thought...”

“Ladybug, you. To be more precise. But now that I know who you are, the feelings are the same. Or possibly even stronger. Just so you know. It’s not just some silly celebrity thing.”

She opened her mouth, preparing to speak, but the words were stuck, her throat dry.

“Marinette...” he took her hands gently. “You are amazing, brave, smart, and kind. You’re my hero, and while you are going through some really hard stuff right now, you have something that Lila and Hawkmoth don’t.”

“A life?”

He chuckled, “well, yes. But I was going to say integrity.”

“Integrity?”

“Yeah. Willingness to help others even when you have bad days. Doing your best to keep promises. Being someone dependable, honest, and selfless. It might be exhausting, but in the end, you’ll be still standing when everyone else’s messes fall down around you.”

Her shoulders sagged as she let out a whoosh of air. “That’s really sweet, Adrien. But...” she hugged herself. “You told me it didn’t matter as long as you and I knew the truth. That I should take the high road and her lies would catch up to her. Well, I almost got expelled, so it obviously isn’t working.”

“Right, yes. And I’m sorry,” he clarified. “When I gave you that advice the first time, I didn’t know she threatened you. I thought it just bothered you that she was lying in general. I’m not saying you have to lay down like a dog anymore, I’m just saying that you have an advantage on her. And your character is your foundation. If you were a terrible person, and she was lying about you, there would be no reason for anyone to doubt her. But because you are so amazing, someone’s going to notice. And if they don’t, that’s not your fault. I will help you come up with a way to solve this problem, I promise.”

She sighed again, this time in relief. “Thank you Adrien. That means a lot.”

“Now,” he began, starting to pace himself. “I’m not sure what I can do to help you with the Miraculous. Given that I was a terrible temporary holder, and I’m not even supposed to know about this—“

“You don’t need to help me there.” She sighed, but in a gentle way, that sounded relaxed and okay. “If we can get the Lila situation under control, I think I’ll be able to handle guardianship a lot more.”

“What about Chat? Can he take some responsibilities?”

She groaned. “That’s another one of my problems. He’s so...”

Adrien held his breath, ready to take whatever terrible trait she had honed in on.

“...so wonderful.”

Huh. Not expected, but not unwelcomed!

“He’s goofy, and impatient, and goes overboard sometimes, but he has such a good heart and encourages me. So during that last fight...it broke me to see him step up and take control while I just spiraled.”

“You’re a team though. He should be able to take control when you’re unable to.”

“I know, but it shouldn’t be when I’m having an existential crisis! Just when I’m hurt or sick—“

“I’m sure Chat didn’t mind stepping up.”

“How do you know?”

“I mean, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Marinette groaned again. “And there again! If I keep rejecting him, he’s just going to get more and more heartbroken, and then he’s going to resent me! And I hate that! I don’t want to be the cause of that!”

Adrien paled. Honestly, he was trying to move on with Kagami. He wasn’t going to let heartbreak turn to resentment. Especially not towards her, who he still adored. That was yesterday’s problem though, things were looking pretty optimistic in the love department now. Though they hadn’t gotten that far yet.

“Marinette, I think if that does happen, it wouldn’t be your fault. I think...Chat should be mature enough to respect your wishes.”

“He has his moments.” She breathed. “Did you know I almost gave up being Ladybug right at the beginning?”

“What?! No way!”

“Yes! But Chat encouraged me. Alya was in danger and that prompted me to put the earrings back on, but Chat actually talked me into being a hero. In my darkest moments, I wonder ‘what would Chat say?’ Sometimes the answer is stupid, but it makes me laugh. And then I hear his encouragement.”

“You care a lot about Chat, don’t you?”

“I love him. He’s my best friend and the best partner I could ask for.”

Adrien’s lovesick grin was probably not the best reaction to her praise of someone else. He shook himself into a more relaxed and normal expression. “Have you guys talked at all since then?”

“No. I have no idea what to say to him.” She plopped down in one of her computer chairs and leaned her head back. “I wish I knew Chinese!”

“What?” Adrien asked at the sudden change in conversation.

“Don’t get me wrong, I know some. But not enough to get me by. My mom offered to teach me some when I was younger, but I was being stubborn and now I regret it! I’ve been trying to learn more since I started training, but I can’t ask my mom for specific phrases, and free apps only get me so far!”

“Why do you need to know Chinese?”

Marinette took a deep breath, and looked at Tikki.

“I mean, he already knows this much, might as well keep going.”

She exhaled. “Alright. The miraculous come with...a manual, of sorts. But it’s all in code. Some of that code is in Chinese, either Mandarin or something else...maybe even ancient Chinese. I don’t know. But I figure being able to read it would help me figure it out.”

“Uh...wasn’t there a temple or something in Tibet that came back? Could you use the Teleportation miraculous to get there?”

Marinette stared at him, wide-eyed. “You...you’re on to something there! Oh but that doesn’t fix my Chinese problem! I know how to say ‘please’, ‘thank you’, ‘good morning’ and stuff but not ‘hello, I’m the new Miraculous Guardian in Paris and I don’t know how to read the book. Can you teach me?’”

“Hello, I’m the new Miracle Stone Guardian in Paris and I don’t know how to read the book. Can you teach me?” Adrien said in Mandarin. “At least I think that’s what it is. I said ‘Miracle Stone’ instead of Miraculous, because I think that’s a better translation—“

“Adrien!” Marinette grabbed his face with both hands, squishing his cheeks together. “You speak Mandarin!”

“Yes? Isn’t that what you were getting to? Asking me to be your translator?”

“I didn’t—we couldn’t—“

“Because I’m not supposed to know?” He asked delicately.

Marinette didn’t answer.

“Or because you believe you have to do this on your own?”

She groaned again. “Are you like a mind reader or something?”

He rested a hand on her shoulders and rubbed back and forth. “One of my many talents.”

“But, yes. That is what I’m worried about. I don’t want to get you too involved. I should at least talk to Chat about it.”

“Yeah, I think you should just be honest with him. Just tell him everything.”

“I can’t tell him everything, it would compromise my identity!”

“Um, just out of curiosity…why don’t you two know who the other is?”

“It was a safety measure, in case either one of us got akumatized, or under the control of an akuma. Our master was very strict about it.”

“But, you’re the guardian now. Isn’t it better to know each other? What if something happens to the other? There’s no one that would know who the other is.”

Marinette exhaled. “I’ve been thinking about that too. I just…I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well, I think you should let him in at least a little more. Just talk to him. He should at least know where your head is at.”

“Okay. I’ll start there.”

Adrien’s phone buzzed with a text. “Oh, who is it this time?”

Kagami: Where are you?

“Oh whoops! I needed Kagami to cover for me.”

Adrien: I’m with Marinette. There’s some class drama going on right now. Can you cover for me?

Kagami: Sure! Tell her she’s got me on her side. (Even though I’m not sure what’s going on.)

Kagami: Are you doing anything this weekend? I’d love to get Ice Cream with you! <3

Adrien winced, as he read the newest text.

“Is something wrong?”

“Um, just trying to figure out how to interpret this text. I think Kagami is asking me out.”

Her heart sunk. “Well, um…are you going to go?”

“Not if it’s a date.”

Adrien: As friends?

The little dots popped up, indicating that she was typing.

Kagami: I already told you that your indecision hurts me. Are we a couple or not? Please don’t waste my time.

“Woof. It’s like everyone is falling apart today.”

“What’s wrong? Can I help?”

Adrien smiled at her. “Not to be a complete hypocrite, but I have to handle this on my own. Should I just be blunt and honest?”

“Quite honestly, that seems like Kagami’s language.”

Adrien: I really care about you Kagami, and your friendship is very important to me. I don’t want to lose you. But I can’t be in a relationship with you. I’m very much in love with Marinette, and I just found out she feels the same. But I can’t be with her right now because of…extenuating circumstances. I wouldn’t be fair to you to be with you while I wait until things clear up for her. You deserve to be happy, and I don’t think I can be that person for you. I’m sorry.

“Adrien? Is everything okay?”

“I…I think I’m doing the right thing.”

Kagami: Thank you for your honesty. I wish you had told me sooner. We will remain friends, but I need some time. Tell Marinette I said hi and that I hope she feels better.

Adrien didn’t know how to respond to this very professional reply, so he just didn’t. He had heard you weren’t supposed to break up over text, but they weren’t exactly dating in the first place. More than likely, this conversation would be continued in person. Or she’d never talk to him again.

Instead, he noticed he had another unread text.

Nino: Did you take Marinette home? Is she okay?

Adrien gnawed at his lip. “Are you okay if I tell Nino kind of what the truth is? Besides your identity?”

Marinette shrugged. “If you can convince him, be my guest.” And she took a seat at her desk, pulling out some homework.

Adrien sat in the chair nearby, tapping out an honest reply.

Adrien: I took her home, still with her. She’s not great.

Nino: Alya said that Lila went to tell her mom about what happened. Please tell me she didn’t.

Adrien: She so did.

Nino: Ugghghhhgghhh We told her not to, especially since Alya confirmed that the coffee was cold. Ngl that whole thing at the end was super dramatic

Adrien: Of course. She’s an attention hog, and she demands it however she can get it. That includes lying out of her nose.

Nino: Lowkey bro, I haven’t been believing Lila’s stories for a while. I’ve been going along with it because she’s nice and Alya’s really good friends with her, but today was too much. It was not her place to out Marinette’s crush, especially in front of you. That was dirty

Adrien: Wait really? What made you start doubting her?

Nino: When she could never come through with any of her promises. A few times, sure, celebrities are busy, but every single time she said she’d pull a string, it would fall through. Chloe is more reliable than her. Why do you think I asked Marinette for help first?

Adrien: Boy I’m glad to hear you say that! Marinette’s feeling really overwhelmed because she has to pick up all the plans that Lila ruins.

Nino: Why? It’s not her fault. I love Marinette, but she’s got to stop catering to people.

Adrien: Dude…don’t get mad, but that’s kind of what tipped her over this afternoon. You said something like ‘she always has a solution’. She feels like everyone is depending on her to make things right.

Nino: Aw dude you’re so right! I noticed she started crying when I said that! I just didn’t get why! Aww man!

Adrien: I don’t think she minded helping people, but being asked to help and being expected to help are two totally different things

Nino: For sure dude.

Adrien: You trust me right?

Nino: Yeah dude! You’re my dog bro!

Adrien: Then know what I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth. Lila isn’t just lying for attention. She’s lying maliciously to hurt Marinette on purpose. And not only is she not friends with Ladybug, she HATES her. Chat Noir himself told me that she faked an injury to get him out of a fight and leave Ladybug alone with an akuma. When I told her she didn’t need to lie to make friends, she turned straight up evil. Marinette got on her bad side because she told her to knock it off. She lied about Marinette pushing her down the stairs, and all the other stuff that got her expelled. The only reason Marinette was allowed back at school was because I sorta blackmailed Lila. That’s when she made up that ridiculous lie about having a lying disorder.

Adrien’s phone laid on the desk for a moment, Nino’s contact completely silent.

Nino: Dude.

Nino: I gotta find Alya.

Nino: Stay with Mari.

“Okay. So, I think I won Nino over.” Adrien said with a relieved smirk.

Just then, Marinette’s phone buzzed. She had ignored it since coming home, knowing that there would be a plethora of foul messages from classmates. But she spared the screen a glance. “He just texted me. ‘Dude, I’m so so so so so so so so sorry that what I said hurt you. I only meant that you are extremely smart and clever and reliable. I never wanted to take advantage of you, but it’s nice to have someone in your corner, who you can trust and knows will be honest with you. You’re real, and I’m stopping communication with Lila now. What she did was not cool. Sorry this went on for so long. I’m talking to Alya now. Might take a while to wear her down. You know how she is. But she loves you, so she’ll see the light’.”

“Aw. Nino’s so cool.”

Her phone buzzed again. She blushed at the message, and turned it face down.

“What was that?”

“He said ‘behave’ and then a winky face.”

“Ha! I love Nino. It makes sense why you chose him to be Carapace.”

“You know about that?”

“Yeah, I know who all of the others are now. Except Chat Noir, but I have my suspicions.”

“Oh yeah, who do you suspect?”

“You know the performer XY?”

Marinette gagged. “No. Way. My Chat is way more handsome, kind, and talented than that pompous asshat!”

Adrien guffawed, and when he collected himself, he giggled out, “Handsome, huh?”

“Of course he’s handsome! But don’t you dare tell him I said that!”

“Your secret is safe with me.” He took on a more serious tone. “All of them are, you know? I promised I’d stuff this day in the back of my mind so no one will know.”

“Actually,” she gave a contented sigh. “It’s nice that someone knows. It’s nice that you know.”

“But we didn’t actually solve any of your problems.”

“Well, no. But we have a solid foundation to work on. I feel a lot more optimistic about being the guardian and dealing with Lila. I think the rest will fall into place when I have less on my plate.”

“And I’ll help you with Lila. Again, I’m sorry for my useless advice earlier.”

She rested a hand on his shoulder. “Adrien, it was helpful advice for what you assumed was going on.”

“I really tried, you know. She weaseled her way into my photo shoots, and I told her I wouldn’t boot her as long as she left you alone. And she hasn’t. So the deal is off.”

“You did that for me?”

“Of course!”

“Even without knowing that I’m...?”

“Yes! Marinette! You were always a very precious friend to me. The first that I really felt like I earned on my own. It really sucked to see you hurting, and I wanted to do whatever I could to protect you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, but in a hopeful way this time. She threw her arms around him and squeezed. “You’re the best.”

He hugged her back, squeezing her tightly. “I try.” He glanced at his phone. “Looks like we got some time before I have to leave. Did you want me to look at that book? Or do you want to just play video games?”

“Honestly, video games sound awesome. Let me just go tell my mom you’re staying for dinner.”

“Okay.”

After she left, Plagg appeared. “You doing okay kid? Your heart is just a hum for how hard it’s beating.”

“I’m fine, just...I guess still processing everything? No wonder she feels so overwhelmed.”

“I’d like to think that by confiding in you, she’s feeling a little better.”

“I hope. I know how particular she is about her identity. She might still be uncomfortable.”

“Are you going to tell her who you are?”

“Not just yet. On one hand, she might feel better knowing it’s not some random person who knows who she is, but on the other hand, that’s a whole other can of worms and just one more thing to worry about.”

“Yeah. But you’re also not a stranger to her. You’re a good friend and the boy she’s in love with.”

“Yeah…Marinette’s…Ladybug. And she’s in love with me…”

“Kid?”

That was all the warning Plagg got before Adrien straight up passed out on the floor.

Marinette rushed back upstairs when she heard the thump. And thankfully Plagg heard her steps so that he could hide.

“Adrien?!”

The dizzy spell only lasted a few seconds, as he groggily blinked back to awareness.

“Are you alright? Do you need water? Food?”

“Yes to all the above.” He stated with a lopsided smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I think my brain finally processed who you were and I just got really light headed.”

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks Mari.”

She blushed.

“Is that okay? Can I call you that?”

“You can call me anything.”

“Okay boo boo bear.” He grinned.

She started giggling. “Oh no! Not disgusting pet names!”

“Snookie wookums?”

“No!”

“Sweetie Mari pie?”

“Adrien!”

“My most ardent desire, love of my life?”

She calmed down her giggles. “That one’s pretty good, only if you say the whole thing every time.”

He smiled warmly at her. “Actually, I think I have the perfect name for you. But I’ll drop it on you when you least expect it.”

“Whatever you say...Blondie.”

“That’s the best you got?”

“I’ll think on it. I’ll get one that just melts your heart.”

There was a knock on the trap door. “Marinette?” Asked Sabine.

Marinette opened the door, and helped her mom with the tray of snacks and tea.

“Here you go. Plenty of feel good snacks to help a wounded heart.”

“Thanks Maman.” Marinette said earnestly.

“Now, I want you to know, I got in contact with Lila’s mother.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry honey, but she’s right up in Lila’s lies. She didn’t even believe me when I said Adrien had come over to clarify everything. Apparently, he’s dating Lila. There’s no way he would defend her bully.” Sabine gave them a flat look.

“Me? Date Lila? I’d sooner date a rancid garbage bag. And kiss it too!”

“Well, and least the garbage bag would never lie to you.” Marinette smiled.

“So, want do you want me to do?” Asked Sabine. “Stay out of this? Call the principle? Call a lawyer?”

“No mom,” Marinette said with an accepting sigh. “I think we’ll handle her.”

“Don’t do anything dangerous.” She warned. “I know you’re not a bad kid. But don’t stoop to her level.”

“Don’t worry. I intend to handle it with grace and dignity.”

“Dignity I can see. Grace? Just do your best.”

“Gee thanks.”

“Just let me know if you need anything. Talking to her mother didn’t work, but if we can a parent teacher conference...”

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Marinette. “But let me try a little longer. Adrien knows a little more about the situation, and so does Nino.”

“Okay baby.” Sabine smiled. “I’m proud of you. And I love you. You too, Adrien. I’m proud of you for coming here and making things right.”

He blushed. “Thank you Madam Cheng.”

“Alright, I’ll leave you kids alone. I’ll call for dinner.”

“Thanks mom!”

The video games were a great distraction from all the stress and revelations the day had brought. Smack talk, praise, puns, and even overt flirting.

“What’s wrong, Ladybug? Having trouble in a digital battle?”

“Oh you wish! I’ve fought in one of these for real!”

“Oh you lie! You think you can just tell me you did anything as Ladybug and I’ll believe it!”

“I mean, I can. You can’t prove I didn’t.”

“Yes I can, you’re sucking at this!”

“Oh but that’s just a part of my plan!” In a super mega ultra combo, Adrien’s health bar went from three quarters full, to only one hp left.

“Nonononono!!” He cried, mashing the block button.

It didn’t matter.

“Victory, thy name is sweet.”

“Guhhhh,” Adrien moaned as he flexed his sore hand. “And not a single victory for me.”

“You’ll get there some day.”

“When you go easy on me...”

“No promises there, handsome boy.”

He grinned at her.

From downstairs, Sabine called, “Adrien! Your bodyguard is here!”

“Wow, is it 8 o’clock already?”

The clock read 7:45.

“You know what they say, time flies when you’re having fun.”

He smiled softly at her. “And with you, every minute is an absolute blast.”

She blushed.

“Look, Marinette...” he trailed off, scratching the back of his head. “I...I want to be more than just a friend. I really...I love you. Truly.”

“But...?”

He winced. “A temporary but. I have a few loose ends I need to tie up before I ask you out, properly. I need to talk to my father, and I’d like to make sure Kagami’s okay. And I should probably mention it to Chloé.”

“Okay. That makes sense.”

“I just don’t want anything to ruin us before we even start, you know?”

“Of course. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank you. And um...I’ll leave you with this, so you know I’m serious.”

“Leave me with what?”

He swooped in, pressing the sweetest, warmest, lovely kiss of them all on her lips. It only lasted a few seconds, just to leave them both pining for more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked as they parted.

She didn’t have the words, as she only dumbly nodded back.

With his award winning smile, he pressed a tiny peck to her nose and then danced away before she could compose herself.

After he left, she sank to the floor.

“Wow! Looks like talking out your problems with someone really did help!” Said Tikki.

“Uh huh...”

“You okay?”

“Adrien...kissed me.”

“He sure did! That was really cute!”

“I love him...I’m going to marry him.”

“Okay, maybe slow down...”

“Don’t crush my dreams Tikki!”

—

At home, Adrien arrived 5 minutes before 8. But his father was still waiting outside his office.

“Welcome home, Adrien. Did you enjoy dinner with Marinette and her family?”

It was certainly nice to receive a warm welcome! “Yeah! Her mom made this soup that was really good, and we had fresh bakery bread!”

“Sounds lovely.” Gabriel stayed with a pleasant tone. “If you aren’t busy, I should like to finish our earlier conversation.”

“No. I mean, no I’m not busy! We can talk!”

Gabriel nodded and beckoned him into his office. They sat across from each other in chairs.

“I want to thank you for being so frank about the situation with Miss Rossi. I’ll admit, I was impressed with her quick wit and ability to fabricate stories—“

“Wait.” Adrien held up a hand. “You know she was lying?”

“Of course. I’m not an idiot. Her lies were obvious, but to the unpracticed ear, they’d go unnoticed. She seemed earnest enough when she told me she cared about you, and so I...had her keep an eye on you.”

Adrien felt his skin crawl. “She...spied on me?”

“Hmm. Spied is a little strong of a word. Just reported back to me the goings on of your classmates.”

“I mean,” Adrien began, sheepishly. “If you wanted to know, you could have just asked. I would have told you.”

“I should have. I see that now. Lila was obviously abusing my trust and taking advantage of you. She probably assumed she could get away with anything as long as she reported everything else.”

Adrien wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He desperately needed a shower after this conversation.

“I feel kind of violated.”

“I understand. Lila had no business to touch you without your consent.”

“No, I mean, yes, that was very violating, but I meant, your spying on me. I thought you trusted me?”

“I do. Adrien, I do. Lila told me you were being manipulated by unsavory types. I now know that she was talking about herself. What you said about her lying to get Miss Dupain Cheng in trouble really hit me. We will be dropping her as a model, and I’ll be speaking with my lawyer in case she decides to turn her silver tongue on us.”

Adrien sighed in relief. “Thank you father.”

“You know if someone ever touches you in a way you don’t like, you’re allowed to say no. Right?”

“I...yes. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Well, I just...it happens all the time. Models and stuff. Lila was just doing it off set too.”

Gabriel frowned in thought. “Does modeling make you uncomfortable?”

“No. Not really. Just...some of the times in like, couple shoots?”

“I see. I’ll look into getting you more solo sessions.”

This conversation was going a lot better than he expected. His father had certainly lowered Adrien’s expectations, but at least he was admitting allowing a teenager to spy on him was a bad idea.

Progress.

“Now, about Miss Dupain Cheng.”

Adrien winced.

“What’s your...relationship, currently?”

“Right this minute, we’re still just friends. But very soon, I hope to be dating her.”

“Mmmm. You’re still very young, Adrien.”

“I know. But too young to love?”

His father gave a little chuckle. “You are so much like your mother. I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to prevent you from dating, since I dated at your age as well. Marinette has certainly proved to be an upstanding girl. Her family name is well known and respected, even in elite circles. If you wish to date her, you have my blessing.”

Yes!!

“But I would like to have dinner with her and her family, once you do ask.”

“Yes father, of course. Thank you!”

Today wasn’t so bad after all. Of course, it hurt to see his lady in so much pain, but he had been able to bring her so much happiness! And now this!

“There’s one more thing I wanted to talk about.” Gabriel took a very serious tone.

“Okay?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I—yes! Yes of course father.”

“Good. Because I need to show you something. Something I should have shown you a long time ago.” He stood, and walked to the painting of Emilie behind his desk.

[theatresweetheart]

Of Stars and Royal Gardens

Summary: When the king of the Eastern Kingdom falls ill suddenly, the wedding that was supposed to unite the Eastern and Northern Kingdoms via the princes suddenly gets moved immediately. 

Warnings: Talk of sickness, arranged marriages, anxious thoughts, feelings of worthlessness, mentioned death due to childbirth. 

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety, Familial Analogical, Platonic Logince.

Characters: Roman, Virgil, Logan, Emile, Remy, Deceit (not mentioned by name), Patton (mentioned in passing/flashback.)

Word Count: 6647 words.

A/n: I absolutely love writing fantasy and royalty. (Not to mention how putting the two together makes me swoon.) I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile and I wanted to flesh it out as best as I could, and I’m actually pretty happy with the outcome! I’ve been trying not to rush through scenes and actually write them and feel them out. Enjoy! I have moved the taglist to the bottom of the fic, this is how it will be from here on.

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One could only handle travelling in a carriage for so long before they started to go mad.

Emerald green hills outside the window rose and fell like unceasing waves. The sky was once again fading into a dark red. Purple, dark blue and black began smearing the edges of the world and doused it in a warm pinkish hue. The skyline was breathtakingly stunning, he would admit that but he was more than ready to get out of this carriage and stretch his legs again.

The prince let his head rest against the cool glass, a gentle sigh escaping him as his eyes lazily traced the ups and downs of the landscape outside.

When rolling hills slowly turned into flatter farmlands, Virgil’s dwindling hope of never getting out of this carriage faded. It changed to something more tentative.

The Kingdom they were visiting was closer now, even as darkness fell over the lands and gave the waking world a clear view of the stars shining brightly above them. Looking like crushed diamonds smattered against a black canvas sky, twinkling without a care in the world and unknowingly giving the prince something far more relaxing to look at.

There were small cottages that dotted the farmland, their lanterns like fireflies. Some people were still out in their rows upon rows of crops, their lantern bobbing and swaying to their gait.

Seemed like being escorted to your future spouse had a few pros. The night sky and stunning scenery was it so far.

It was also a rather large relief when he realized that this tantalizing journey would be over soon. Travelling for three days in a confined space with his father could be painful. However, the idea that they were almost there also brought the fact that his wedding was just a day away now.

It set an uneasy feeling in his chest and his breath came a little more laboured. Not enough to be noticed by an outsider, but just enough to be uncomfortable for the prince himself.

“How are you faring?”‌ His father’s voice cut into his thoughts and Virgil turned to see sharp blue eyes meeting his own.

Virgil had a few options; he could lie and say that he was perfectly fine. Of course, that would not be taken at face value in the least. He had already told his father just how unhappy he was about this marriage, not to mention how unready he felt about the whole ordeal. Nor the fact that he didn’t even know the man he was being wedded to.

He knew his betrothed’s name.

That was literally it.

“It might be love at first sight, Your Highness,” a friend of his had said, the tailor stitching up the last seam on the prince’s outfit, pulling it taut enough that it showed his assets modestly. “And besides, he might not be as awful as you think he is. I’ve heard only good things about the prince of the Eastern Kingdom.”

Virgil had shaken his head, a fond look on his face. “Patton, please, enough with the formalities, we’re alone. You don’t have to call me “You’re Highness” or “My Prince” or whatever, it’s kinda weird. Besides, we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“That was before I‌ was the royal tailor,” Patton had said, grabbing a pair of scissors to his left before snipping the dark purple thread. Pointedly ignoring Virgil’s unimpressed looks. “But my point still stands. You never know what could come of this. You two could end up happy in your marriage! A happily ever after and all that.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Virgil didn’t have much hope that he would end up falling for his soon-to-be-husband. He was going to be a king and that was shaking him to the core.

It was odd, being betrothed to a man he had never met. Nor did he know what he looked like. What if he wasn’t even all that attractive? Virgil didn’t like basing his interest on another’s looks, but it was hard not to.

Could he truly live the rest of his life content if he was married to a man he wasn’t physically attracted to?

Patton had always told him that finding someone handsome was part of the attraction. It was one of those whispered talks they had at night, after sneaking out of the castle and going to their secret spot up by the waterfall near the edge of the kingdom. They would sit there under the stars together, talking about their future.

Patton had always dreamed of a fairy tale ending. Meeting a handsome stranger and being swept off of his feet. The cliche of the white knight swooping in on a horse.

Virgil had been the opposite, not caring much for the romance of life. Much more content to live his life on his own, reading or painting. As the crowned prince however, he didn’t have much time for his own little personal activities and was more often than not found in self defense classes, or reading something necessary to understand how to take over and run the kingdom after his father passed the crown on.

Virgil’s father had never been too thrilled with the idea of him sneaking out at night once he figured it out, but the king had also never forbade it nor stopped him when he had been caught one night. Logan had always told him to be safe and to be back before morning.

It wasn’t that Virgil didn’t respect this father, he did! But this was a decision that he wished hadn’t been set in stone. A decision that could have been swayed for at least a few years further into the future.

Though, when the Eastern Kingdom’s king fell ill, there was a messenger sent to their kingdom.

A letter had been delivered that spoke to joining forces by having their sons marry and conjoin the kingdom. Giving his son, Prince Roman, someone to rule beside and keep in check. Pleading with them to rearrange the timing of the marriage and to come to the Eastern Kingdom as soon as humanly possible.

And Virgil, being Logan’s only heir, had had no choice in the matter. He still remembered the chat as though it was yesterday, and he could still the same emotions twitching under his fingertips. Itching at his throat.

“You must understand that uniting the kingdoms was always the plan, Virgil. Though, the marriage was not supposed to happen until you and his son were older.”

“I get that, but this isn’t fair. That I‌ get no choice in what happens to my life!”

“I will not tolerate this childish behaviour, this is for the better of your kingdom and your people.”

“I just want to make my own choices, is that a sin?”

“You will be able to make your own choices after you’re joined in marriage.”

Logan had told him from a very young age that he had been betrothed to the crowned prince of the Eastern Kingdom, but as a child Virgil hadn’t understood the weight of those words.

Now that it was happening, it was the only thing he could focus on.

The horses continued their trot along the stone path, unknowingly carrying the prince to what was soon to be his demise. Ruling a kingdom with a man he didn’t know was stressful enough in theory, but to actually have to put that into action? He was surely going to either lose his mind or his dignity. If he was lucky, perhaps both.

Virgil mumbled something incoherent. It made him feel just the slightest bit better to know that his father hadn’t caught what he’d said. “I could be better,” he said louder, turning his attention to stare achingly out the window again.

Logan let out a terse sigh. “I‌ understand that you are upset with this,” he said after a moment, and Virgil turned his head just enough to show that he was, indeed, actively listening. “But this is for the better of our people. The wedding was not supposed to be this soon, and I apologize that it came so suddenly.”

Virgil shrugged his shoulders. “It is what is is.”

There was a tense silence between the two royals and Logan soon realized he wouldn’t be getting anywhere with Virgil. So, he instead settled on a different topic of importance.

“I did meet Prince Roman once,” he said while rummaging through the bag to his side, before pulling out his book and flipping it open. If he said it nonchalantly, Virgil would be more intent to listen. It was a quirk of his son’s that Logan had picked up on very quickly. He fingered through the pages idly. “He was only seven, merely a child, mind you, but he was kind and respectful. A bit exuberant, but well meaning.”

Virgil snorted. “Why are you telling me this now?‌ I’m about to meet the guy.”

“True,” Logan replied, pushing his glasses up so they sat further up on the bridge of his nose. “Though, there is no harm in knowing. It will be easier to prepare yourself if you’re armed with knowledge.”

“Yeah, yeah, knowledge is power and all that.”

“You mock now, Virgil, but in time you will understand that yes, knowledge truly is power,” the king looked up briefly, meeting the prince’s eyes for half a second before Virgil quickly glanced away again. “Ruling a kingdom is not something you just do. It’s something that will take years of learning. And you will make mistakes, as all kings do. Especially young ones.”

Virgil scrunched his nose, pushing off of the window and crossing his arms. Staring pointedly down at the floor of the carriage. “If you’re trying to be reassuring, it’s not working.”

“I’m not trying to be reassuring,” Logan said, turning his attention back down to the book in his lap, “I’m trying to tell you that things will go wrong in your reign and you mustn’t panic. If you do, do not let your people see it. They will see it as a sign of weakness.”

Virgil’s nails tightened in his sleeves, and he worried his lower lip.

“Though, have peace. You will not be doing this alone.”

“Yeah, because ruling a kingdom that is not mine with a total stranger is better.”

“It is very possible that you two will get along.”

Logan did understand the frustration of being married to someone he didn’t know. That’s how he, himself, had been wedded to Virgil’s late mother, Evangeline, and how they had given Logan an heir.

Virgil’s mother had unfortunately died in childbirth.

The queen had been beloved, but both her and Logan had shared something that the rest of the kingdom needn’t know. They had both been attracted to men and women respectfully. They had done what was necessary, but neither had truly felt attracted to one another.

Evangeline and himself had been close friends, but never anything more.

Virgil rolled his eyes and sunk further down into the leather seats, when he suddenly felt the change between gravel roads to paved stone.

His eyes were drawn outside instantly. His heart both fluttered and sunk. He was granted with the view of huge stone walls rising high above the carriage, guarded with knights and archers. Torches lit up the wooden gate as it was lifted. The carriage rode through it with hardly a qualm, the crest on the side of it recognized. Not to mention the thing had golden crested accents and looked as if it would carry important people.

The city streets were lined with people, all standing in large chattering groups. Pointing, smiling, cheering. It made Virgil pull slightly away from the window. The shops were all still open and lights glittered and shone. Lanterns, lamps, torches.

Virgil nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his knee and he turned his attention back to his father, who was looking at him with a soft gaze. “You will be alright,” he told him, an affirming tone behind his voice, “you are more than capable of doing this.”

That set something in Virgil’s chest. Hard, immovable and a lump formed in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it stayed stuck where it was.

Oh god, I‌ hope you’re right.

They didn’t say anything to each other for the rest of the trip up to the castle gates. Which were coated in gold and silver. Two armed knights stood outside the gates, their swords by their sides. There was some muffled talking between the coachman and the guard on the other side of the carriage. Then there was a shouted command and the huge gate doors began to open.

Peering out the window only gave him so much of a glance at the glory that awaited inside. The courtyard was filled with life. Trees and plants and flowerbeds, lanterns hung and lights from inside the castle glittered like starlight. There were ponds filled with crystal clear water and the carriage circled around a stunning white marble fountain.

Virgil was positive that the moment he found out where the royal garden was, that was where he was going to spend a bit of his night. He needed to unwind and spend some time with just himself and the night sky and the stars hanging so far above them.

The carriage finally stopped moving after what had seemed like ages and the coachman was hopping down from his perch. Before anything happened, Logan picked up his crown and settled it comfortably once more, checking himself once, making sure his appearance was more than presentable. He sent a pointed glance toward the prince.

Virgil sighed, but knowing that it was better to make a good first impression, he reached into his crown box and pulled his own out. His thumb ran over the ruby that sat in the stock middle before turning it around in his hands and putting it on.

Logan had stood up, hearing the coachman preparing to open the door and he quickly bent down to fix Virgil’s crown so it sat straight on his brow, before adjusting the clasps that connected his cape to his jacket. It seemed he was satisfied with that and just in time. The coachman opened the door and Logan led out, Virgil was quick to follow, making sure not to step on his father’s cape.

It was a brief thought and he had to bite his lip to keep the smirk from spreading.

“Your majesties,” a man dressed in a crisp suit came down the large flight of perfect stairs, his arms open and a smile on his features. “The Eastern Kingdom greets you with the humblest of welcomes.”

“It’s our pleasure,”‌ his father said to the side of him and Virgil straightened his shoulders, matching Logan’s perfect posture.

It was all for the public eye.

Such was the life of royalty.

Always watched by their people, almost as if they were waiting for their leaders to mess up and find a reason to revolt against them. Though, Virgil knew his father was well liked by much of the kingdom, there was always the worry of something happening, no matter how wonderful the ruler.

“Prince Virgil, your betrothed eagerly awaits you,” the man said, turning to Virgil with that same bright charismatic grin. It almost set something uneasier in his chest, though he let it pass for the moment. “Come, follow me.”

Virgil clenched his hands, attempting to still the nervous shaking and letting his father lead once more. He was quick to keep pace though. Up the marble stairs and leading through the winding hallways. He would have to memorize this new layout as it was almost completely different from their own castle. There were red tapestries on the walls, decorated with gold and silver, shining in the lamp light and the moonlight seeping in through the large windows.

They dipped around a few corners before the two large mahogany doors were being swung open and a brightly lit ballroom was revealed. There were tables, chairs and benches set up to the side. The room was staggeringly big. A huge glittering crystal chandelier hung above their heads and he was admittedly taken by it. Everything about this kingdom just seemed to be breathtakingly gorgeous.

His attention shifted as soon as he heard the same man’s voice from before beginning to introduce his father and himself.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness, I introduce to you King Logan and Prince Virgil of the Northern Kingdom.”

Virgil’s attention shifted toward the head of the room, seeing two thrones sitting dauntingly large compared to their occupants. In the middle throne, he saw a sickly looking man. Pale skin, dulling brown eyes behind glasses sitting perched on his thin nose, but his shoulders back and his head up as far as it could go. The king, Virgil had no doubt about that. He knew he had fallen ill, but to see the king in this state yet trying to hold his head high?‌ Well, he gave the man even more respect.

Then, sitting to the king’s right was the crowned prince. His husband-to-be.

Virgil’s heart jumped right into his throat, upon seeing chocolate brown eyes meeting his own. They were soft, full of warmth. He felt short of breath, watching as the candlelight glinted off the crown perched delicately upon styled brown hair, tucked behind his ears. All worries about being attracted to his betrothed immediately disappeared.

Prince Roman Amir was certainly something to look at. And he made Virgil’s poor heart flutter.

However, he retained a neutral stance as Roman was granted permission from his father to step forward. Virgil heard Logan clear his throat quietly, a pointed nudge without truly touching the prince.

Taking the hint, he stepped forward, heart hammering in his chest with every step he took closer to his betrothed. The closer they got, the more details he could see on him, not to mention just how much taller Roman was than himself. He carried himself with true pride and confidence and Virgil was just faking it.

The two met in the middle of the ballroom, meeting each other’s eyes for the first time up close and Virgil found himself watching Roman’s eyes. The gentle hazels seeming to flicker over his person. A part of him felt self conscious, but the other part of him just was so mesmerized by the golden brown swirls in the prince’s eyes.

Roman dipped into a respectful bow, dropping his gaze. “Prince Roman, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Virgil quickly mimicked the same action, knowing it was required of him. “Prince Virgil, the pleasure’s mine.”

Standing straight up, Virgil tucked his hands behind his back and he felt Logan come up behind him, laying a reassuring hand on his lower back before continuing his way past the two princes. The king on the throne rose to his feet, struggling slightly as he reached for his cane and hefted himself up.

Roman turned on his heel, after sending Virgil a gentle look before returning to his father’s side. “Father,” he chided, hooking a hand under the king’s arm and helping him stand further. “You know what the healer said, stay seated unless absolutely necessary.”

“Yes, yes, I‌ know,” the king smiled, patting Roman’s hand to show that he appreciated the sentiment. His smile grew wider upon seeing Logan closer to him, greeting him with a look that almost said it all. “Logan Sanders.”

“Emile Amir,” Logan greeted back, a smile that one could only spot if they knew what they were looking for appeared. “It has been a long time, my friend.”

“I‌ do believe the last time you were here, Roman couldn’t have been older than seven,” King Emile reached out a hand and Logan took it, the both sharing a grasp that said they were old friends. “How have these years been treating you?”

Logan chuckled. His laugh was rumbling, like a comforting thunderstorm. Virgil could remember falling asleep to that sound, or finding comfort in it when he would get spooked as a child and run to his father for protection. “As they say, it could be going worse.”

Emile laughed at that, though it quickly turned into a round of coughs. Roman’s features dropped slightly, though it was gone within a flash and was replaced with a look that was more concerned than sad.

Virgil stepped closer to the throne and Emile turned to face him, that soft smile returning after recovering from his fit. “And, if my eyes don’t deceive me. Virgil, the last time I‌ saw you, you were just a babe. Now look at you, a dashing young man.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he dipped his head into a respectful nod. He could feel Roman’s eyes on him, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Or, tried not to.

“Now,”‌ Emile said, his smile dropped slightly, turning into something a bit more serious as he eased himself back down into his throne. “I‌ know this situation is not exactly ideal.”‌ The king did not hide his glances toward his son and Virgil in turn, obviously talking about the wedding being moved so much sooner than originally planned. “But I appreciate your cooperation and valiance more than anything, Virgil. It is truly remarkable.”

Virgil offered a tight smile, though it was not unkind.

“We have done everything in our power to make sure that this transition is comfortable and painless,” the king continued. “As you know, tomorrow is the wedding and the coronation to follow the day after. I‌ will do everything to make sure that both days go flawlessly to ease the stress of the both of you.”

“Father, you mustn’t worry yourself so much,” Roman told him, taking Emile’s hand and holding it tightly. “I’m sure Prince Virgil and I‌ will be alright. And so what if some hiccups occur? No matter what, it will be fine. We will be fine.”

Emile smiled at his son, patting his hand in turn. “You will be a good king, Roman. Now, enough of such dreary talk. Come, you two must be exhausted. I‌ will have Remy show you both to your quarters.”

Seemingly at the mention of his name, a man with slick black hair appeared in the grand doorway, dressed in a sleek black jacket and dress pants, hands tucked behind his back.

“Ah, what impeccable timing. Remy, please escort our guests to their quarters.”

“Actually, Emile, if you wouldn’t mind,” Logan stepped in, “I‌ would like to spend a little while catching up with you before I turn in for the night.”

“Oh.” Emile’s entire demeanor seemed to change at that. It brightened somehow, more than before. “Why of course I‌ wouldn’t mind. Let us talk in the library. I‌ know how much you loved it when we were younger.”

“I‌ can assure you that that aspect of me has not changed.” Logan stepped forward, offering his arm as Emile reached for his cane.

Emile accepted Logan’s offered assistance and lifted himself up, leaning most of his weight on his cane. “Roman, you are released for the night. Get some rest, the both of you.” It was obvious Emile was talking to both Roman and Virgil. “It is a big day for you and you will want to be well rested.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Of course, father.”

Logan shared a look with Virgil, both saying something entirely silently but communicating it perfectly. His father wished him the best, since they might not see each other until just before the ceremony.

Virgil excused himself and turned to follow Remy out of the ballroom, the taller man taking swift steps. They walked in silence for a couple minutes, but he could tell Remy was glancing at him from time to time. Virgil instead let his attention linger on the walls and the stained glass windows high above them, trying to memorize the path as best as possible. The sooner he knew these halls, the better. That way he wouldn’t have to rely on someone else for assistance in his own castle.

However, he supposed soon enough that the bedchamber he was in now would no longer be his own. As a married pair, the princes—or perhaps kings would be the proper term? No, until after the coronation, don’t get ahead of yourself—would be sharing a bed.

The thought was staggering and he took in a shaky breath.

Virgil had never had to share a bed with anyone before. At least, no one that was supposed to be his romantic interest. He had shared a bed with his father when he was a child, after having a particularly bad dream maybe. But nothing of this magnitude.

“So,” Remy finally said, turning another corner and leading Virgil down yet another well lit hallway that looked exactly like the others, save this carpet had turned from a royal crimson to a darker red. “You’re the bride-to-be.”

Virgil laughed unexpectedly. He couldn’t help it. Of the first words he had thought Remy would say to him, that was very much not it. “I‌’m sorry, that was unprofessional.”

Remy had a smirk on his face, knowing he had gotten the nervous royal to crack that anxious facade to reveal something more childish and human-like. He was pleased with himself, that much Virgil could tell. “No reason to be apologetic babes, getting a laugh like that makes you seem more human.”

Virgil snorted, bringing his arms up to wrap around himself instead of staying tucked behind his back, it was a more natural position for him and he felt more comfortable this way. At least he felt more protected.

They stopped walking after they reached a large set of dark oak doors. “This here is your bedchamber for the night,” the adviser said, pushing the door open.

Virgil was welcomed with the sight of a lavish four poster bed. The room was decorated, but dimly lit. It was comfortable and felt rather homey. It was something that he had seen in his own castle, yet it felt so different. Virgil felt somewhat homesick looking at it. The tapestries on the walls depicting waterfalls and battlefields, flowerbeds on some and a mix of a crown and a sword.

Remy turned to leave once Virgil stepped inside, but the prince was quick to stop him. “Is it possible to know where the royal garden is, and how to actually get there?”

Remy turned on his heel, looking the prince up and down before tucking his hands into the front pockets of his black jacket. “Head a little further down this hallway and take the first door on your right. It’ll lead you to the outside balcony with a set of stairs that leads into the garden,” he then swiveled back around and moved to leave before pausing again, “but, gurl, you didn’t hear that from me.”

The adviser left with a wink and shut the doors. Virgil let out a half laugh, almost unbelieving of what had happened.

He then turned to face the rest of the room, noticing a large window and a comfortable seat just underneath it. To the other side of the bed, there was a large bookshelf with countless books of all colours.

Virgil un-clipped the cape from his shoulders before folding it and placing it on the chest just in front of the bed. He removed the jacket and vest underneath as well, setting those away in a neat pile and leaving him in just his white button up shirt. He rolled the sleeves up and let out a breath.

Passing the mirror on the boudoir he realized his crown was still there. He’d been wearing it so long he had forgotten it was even there.

Virgil reached up and lifted it off, taking a single glance at it before setting it down onto the dresser. He didn’t need to be so formal if his only company for the rest of the night was himself.

Glancing through the books on the shelf, Virgil came across one about myths and mythical creatures. As a child, his father would read him books like this. However, that shifted soon enough and Logan began to read him non-fiction books, scrolls about how to rule a kingdom, how to be a proper prince. It was a leisure to read something that didn’t focus too much in the real world.

Taking the book off the shelf, he fingered through a few of the opening pages before deeming it worthy enough of a late night read.‌ At least to hold his attention until everyone went to bed so he could take his time to wander through the royal garden without the fear of being caught or seen. Or interrupted.

He grabbed the candle sitting on the dresser before bringing it over to the window seat and settling it down on the ledge. He propped the window open just enough to taste the fresh night air outside, but not enough to let it snuff the candle. He pulled his legs up onto the cushion and leaned his back against the wall, propping the book up on his knees.

Out of this entire situation, this had to be the most peaceful and relaxed he had felt after this whole endeavor had begun.

Even with the wedding looming over his shoulder, Virgil could take these last few chances to be by himself.

A few hours had passed by the time he had nearly finished the book and he heard servants outside his door beginning to snuff out most of the lights, save for leaving one or two. It was a routine he was used to back home, and would normally wait until everyone else retired for the night before sneaking out and grabbing Patton, before they ran off to the waterfall in the dead of the evening.

After waiting an extra ten or so minutes, Virgil closed the book and placed it back onto the shelf where it belonged.

He opened one of the doors and peered out into the hallway. Just as he had suspected, most of the lights had been snuffed and only a few remained flickering. Most of the hallway was illuminated with a warm moonlit glow.

Slipping out into the hallway, he shut the door as silently as he possibly could before making his way down the hallway. The same way Remy had told him earlier that evening.

First door on your right.

When he turned to the right a little ways down, there was another corridor, but at the very end of it were two more large mahogany doors with inscriptions and pictures engraved into it. Virgil made sure to walk on the carpet and not the stone, not wanting his shoes to make any noise against the polished flooring.

His hands roved over the inscriptions, his fingertips finding the small detailed divots. He tugged on the metal handle before the door opened. He slid through the opening he had created and shut it silently behind him.

When Virgil turned, he was welcomed with the sight of a garden beyond compare. He was currently standing on a balcony made of polished white marble, but when he leaned over the railing, he could see emerald green that went on for what seemed like ages. Stone walls with flowering vines crawling up the sides, matching ponds on both sides of the stairs that descended. Statues that spouted water into the fountains surrounded by flowerbeds and bushes with roses. Trees, arches, a gazebo in the centre of the magnificence.

The stars glittering so high above brought it altogether. If this was how dazzling it looked at night, then the daylight it must be even more breathtaking. Or, hell, during twilight.

Virgil was so taken by the view in front of him, he had failed to hear the sounds of the door opening behind him before it was too late.

“You sneak out into the garden at night too?”

The sudden voice from behind the prince made him jolt, snapped out of his trance and flinching away to turn and see Roman standing almost directly to the side of him. He was missing practically everything Virgil was. The crown, the cape, the over decorated jacket.

He looked just like an average boy.

“Uh, yeah,” he admitted after a moment, turning back to lean against the railing after calming his poor heart from the scare, “couldn’t resist really. I‌ needed some fresh air to clear my head about everything.”

Roman chuckled. The sound was warm and comforting and it made Virgil’s heart skip a beat, as cheese-y and sappy as that was. The other prince came to stand beside him, their shoulders nearly touching as they both watched the peaceful garden in its most natural form. The soft rush of water, the chirping of crickets, the gentle sound of the pond water lapping from the gentle breeze overhead.

“I‌ don’t blame you,” Roman told him in a soft voice, side glancing Virgil from his leaned position. “I’ve found a safe place in the garden. The sounds, the sights. Night is when everything is at its most peaceful.”

It had an air of absolute serenity.

Hearing that his fiance felt the same way about such a place was almost like a weight off of his chest. One that he didn’t even know had been there in the first place. Virgil let the ghost of a smile appear on his lips, feeling content in this moment. Even with the chaos that was about to ensue tomorrow, he felt at ease with his partner.

Though, when Roman’s words registered, Virgil realized he had said his safe place, so did that mean he was encroaching on something that almost felt sacred?

“I‌ don’t want to intrude if you want to be alone–”‌ Virgil said, moving to push away from the banister when his hand was grabbed, stopping him immediately in his tracks. Brown eyes flickering up to meet Roman’s.

“Please don’t go.” It was a soft plead and Virgil let out a breath, seeing the vulnerability behind that gaze. Roman was completely genuine in not wanting him to leave. “I really would like your company. Besides, you were here before me. Truly, it is I that is intruding on you.”

Virgil broke out of his thoughts again, his face flushing when he realized Roman hadn’t let go his hand. It was so soft, and warm to the touch. He really didn’t want Roman to let his hand go. But right at this moment, Virgil didn’t have the confidence to interlace their fingers either, so he just stood there.

He smiled a little more sincerely, relaxing the slightest bit. “Nonsense,”‌ he said after another moment of collecting his scattered thoughts, “it’s your garden after all.”

The two stood there for another moment more, just drinking the other in. Memorizing what they could of each other in the moonlight. Virgil could see the way the moonlight shone off Roman’s eyes, making them glitter in the most cliche way. But it was something so…so real.

Maybe Patton was right, maybe there really was such a thing as true love.

“Come on,” Roman broke the silence, “I want to show you something.”

With a gentle tug on his hand, Virgil was following Roman down the marble stairs and onto the stone path of the garden.‌‌

And they hadn’t let each other go.

“You’re not leading me all the way out here to kill me, just so you can get out of the marriage are you?” Virgil teased.

This time Roman’s laugh was louder, more boisterous, more unabashed and unashamed. That beaming smile was turned back on Virgil and he swore his heart nearly stopped. It filled him with warmth and butterflies and everything that Patton had always told him love would make him feel. It was cliche and sappy and disgusting.

And he liked it.

“No, no,” Roman’s laugh tapered off, showing something still amused but serious. “I swear to you it’s nothing like that.”

Roman led him through a few arches covered in vines and greenery and the sweet fragrance of flowers surrounded the both of them.‌ Soon enough, though, Virgil could hear the rushing of water and before he knew it, Roman was pushing some dangling vines and long grass out of the way and they were ducking down into a cavern.

The cave itself was short, Virgil could see a faint light over Roman’s shoulder and the rushing water got louder. They were pressed rather close together as there wasn’t enough space for the both of them to be side by side.

After another minute, Virgil was able to stand up straight and he saw a waterfall, stretching high above them. When he looked all the way up, the moon hung just over the top of it, giving it an angelic glow and he stepped forward on instinct, mouth agape.

“This technically isn’t apart of the royal garden,”‌ Roman told him quietly off to the side, not wanting to ruin the moment, “but I‌ found it when I‌ was a teenager. It’s one of my favourite spots in the entire kingdom, really.”

“I‌ can see why.” Virgil’s hand unconsciously tightened on Roman’s, just wanting to drink in the moment. He could feel emotions budding in the back of his throat. “I‌ have a waterfall like this back home, but it’s nothing compared to this.” 

As much as Virgil loved his and Patton’s secret spot back home, it paled in comparison to what he was looking at now.

Roman finally intertwined their fingers and Virgil looked up to him. “You’re the first person I’ve ever showed this place,” he told him, moving to stand directly in front of him, reaching down and taking Virgil’s other hand in his own.

That information shocked him. He was the first person this wonderland had been shown to? Ever?‌ Virgil was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say?‌ He was honoured?‌ Touched? “I– I‌ don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” Roman’s voice had dropped significantly and Virgil’s face went scarlet. He could feel the tips of his ears getting warmer and heat creeping up the back of his neck. He could only thank the lord is was too dark for Roman to see just how flustered he was making him.

(However, it was such a cliche line that if Virgil had heard it out of context, he would have laughed and moved on.)

“I‌ know this whole situation is really strange for the both of us, Virgil,” Roman continued, softer. “And I‌ completely understand that. But I honestly think we can do this.”

Virgil’s mouth went dry and he licked his lips to try and went them again. He had just an urge to just surge up and press his mouth against Roman’s. It would be wildly inappropriate (ignoring the fact that they were going to literally be married tomorrow) and Virgil was pretty sure he would combust if he actually did it.

His eyes dropped from Roman’s, and glanced down to their interlaced hands. It was such an intimate moment and they had barely known each other three hours. Had barely interacted more than twice.‌

And yet, it felt real.

He knew what he was about to say was something he truly felt. It was weird and strange and the last thing he had expected, nevertheless speak such a cliche and romantic sentence without cringing.

Virgil looked back up, meeting his betrothed’s once again. Roman looked so hopeful, a delicate light flashing behind those breathtakingly brown eyes. He smiled and squeezed Roman’s hands. “I think so too.”

Maybe there truly was a silly thing known as love at first sight.

                                          ——————————

Taglist: @isle-of-gold 

[notalwaysthevillian]

My Whirlpool of a Life

Ships: Kaminari/OC

Word Count: ~2.4k

I will not be doing a tag list for this fic.

Masterlist

Chapter 7: Test Day

Exam day was here before we knew it.

“Alright! Everyone on the bus!” Iida called out as we staggered out of the dorms.

“Iida. Inside voice.” I shushed, rubbing my eyes.

Kaminari stumbled behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “‘M tired.”

“Me too.”

“You can nap on the bus!” Iida shouted, making the two of us jump.

Grumbling about how loud it was, I dragged Kaminari with me to the back. We collapsed into one of the seats, him letting me have the aisle seat.

I fell asleep almost immediately, using him as my pillow.

“ Dew Drop. Wake up. ”

I took a deep breath, stretching my arms. “We’re here?”

“Yeah, come on. They’re gonna think we’re up to something.” He teased, grabbing my hand.

We walked off the bus and gathered up with the rest of the class. The arena looked pretty cool, with a top that seemed like it could close if it rained. With my quirk, I hoped they would keep it open, but I was willing to bet that wasn’t the case.

“What if I don’t get my license?!” I heard Mineta panicking.

“Mineta.” Mr. Aizawa leaned down to his height. “Don’t ask if you can. Say you will.”

“Right! Sure! I’ve so got this!”

Mr. Aizawa turned to the rest of us. “If you can pass this test and get your provisional licenses, then you novice eggs will hatch into chicks. You’ll be semi-pros. I expect your best.”

“Alright! I can’t wait to be a heroic chicken!” Kaminari yelled out, firing up the class.

“Let’s call out the usual you guys!” Kirishima held up a fist. “On my mark. Plus -”

“ULTRA!”

I jumped as a boy yelled with us, appearing right next to me. His uniform was different. He must’ve been from another school.

“You know, it’s pretty rude to barge into other people’s conversations like that, Inasa.”

“Pardon me! I am so extremely sorry!” He bowed so deeply his head grazed the concrete.

“Who is this guy?” Kaminari pointed at him. “It’s too early for this much enthusiasm.”

I elbowed him. “Be nice! When we’re pros there’s a chance we may end up working with some of them. Not everyone comes from UA.”

“UA in the east, Shiketsu in the west.” Bakugo scoffed.

“I wanted to say it just once!” Inasa stood back up. “Plus Ultra!”

“Plus Ultra!” I echoed back, giving everyone from Shiketsu a friendly smile. “I look forward to competing today!”

“I’m honored to compete against such incredible students. I’m looking forward to it!”

The Shiketsu students continued on into the building, a few of them giving me a quick wave.

“Inasa Yoarashi.”

“Do you know that guy, Mr. Aizawa?” Hagakure asked.

“Yes. He’s strong. He’s the same year as you, and received the top scores for students admitted through recommendations. But for some reason, he turned down his acceptance to UA and went to Shiketsu.”

“Wait, he’s our age?!”

I nudged Kaminari. “I thought Momo had the top score.”

“Must’ve just been the top score for UA.”

Mina looked after the students, watching them walk off. “What a weirdo.”

“Maybe, but he’s the real deal. Keep an eye on him.” Mr. Aizawa looked at me then. “Nima, keep your quirk a secret until necessary.”

“Why?”

“Trust me.”

“Eraser?!” A female voice called out to us, making Mr. Aizawa cringe. “I’d know that scowl anywhere. I saw you on TV and at the sports festival. Been a while since we were this close in person!”

A realization hit me like a freight train. “Oh no.”

Mina and Kaminari both looked at me in confusion.

“Guys, your sports festival aired live.”

More confused looks.

“Which means that almost everyone here knows what your quirks are.”

Todoroki sighed. “We’re at a disadvantage.”

“Not entirely.” I crossed my arms behind my back. “I wasn’t at the sports festival. They don’t know what I can do.”

“You’re our only advantage then.” Mina pointed out. “That’s probably why Mr. Aizawa told you to keep your quirk a secret.”

“Over here everyone!” The woman who was talking to Mr. Aizawa waved some students over. “This is UA.”

“Whoa! It’s Class A!”

“That’s amazing! I’ve seen them on TV before!”

“Second years from Ketsubutsu Academy. This is Class 2. They’re my students.” The woman said.

One boy ran up to Midoriya. “Hey, I’m Shindo. Seems like UA’s had a lotta trouble this year. Must’ve been tough for you.”

“Uh, yeah.”

The boy moved to Kaminari, grabbing his hands. “But even so, you’re all still aiming to become pro heroes, despite those hardships.”

He moved to me. “It’s wonderful!”

Before he could grab my hands, I took a step back. “Thanks.”

“Hearts full of fortitude. I believe that’s what every hero in the world needs to have.”

He gave me a sparkling smile. Something about it felt off.

“This pretty boy is gonna steal our girls.”

I threaded my finger’s through Kami’s. “Not me.”

He gave me a kiss on the forehead. “You’re too good for me.”

I saw Shindo talking to Bakugo, who slapped his hand away. “Stop pretending. What you say doesn’t match the look in your eyes.”

“Man, don’t be rude!” Kiri called him out.

The others apologized to Shindo, but I slipped out of Kami’s grip and over to our resident stick of dynamite. “You’re absolutely right. He’s faking it.”

“Glad to know you have some common sense.” He huffed, glaring at Shindo. “Stick with me today. You’re strong.”

I was confused, but nodded before moving back to Kami’s side.

“Hey. Get your costumes on and head to orientation. There’s no time to waste.”

“Yes, sir!”

Jirou fell into step with me. “It’s weird. I always forget we’re famous to other schools.”

“We’re basically celebrities when it comes to hero course students.”

We got into our costumes and were briefed by the Heroes Public Safety Commisson guy. I tuned out most of it. We had balls, we had to hit targets. Easy peasy. My Tidal Wave would come in handy here.

The walls of the room we were in folded down, revealing the rest of the arena, covered in various terrains.

“Everyone!” Midoriya addressed us. “Stay close together. We’ll fight them as a group.”

“Yeah right. This isn’t a field trip.” Bakugo gave me and Kiri a look before running off.

I followed, knowing Kami would be right behind me.

“Idiot! Wait up!” Kiri called, chasing after us.

Bakugo headed to the city terrain. I knew he’d do well there, with so many buildings to use as perches. Hopefully there was a fake water tower or two I could steal from.

I heard what sounded like an earthquake behind us. “What the hell was that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Keep moving.”

I could hear people being knocked out of the running left and right. Further away, I saw an ice wall go up, and then heard some explosions.

“Looks like Todoroki is doing well.”

“Shut up!”

About half the spots were taken by the time we were climbing up a fire escape.

“Hey Kaminari. Why’d you follow us?” Kiri asked.

“You guys started running, and you stole my girlfriend. Of course I was gonna follow you. Where are we going?”

“Shut up!”

“Why do you always sound so mad?”

“I told you to chill out Bakugo.” Kiri sighed. “It looks like there’s a lot of people up there, so let’s work together.”

“Go die.”

I tapped on Bakugo’s boot. “Hey, you asked me to be here.”

“I didn’t think I’d get Spark Plug too.”

“Dude, we’re dating, what did you think was gonna happen?”

“Come on man.”

Something swung at us. Kirishima shoved me forward. “Look out!”

“Kirishima!”

He was squashed into a little ball of flesh. I couldn’t help but gag. “That’s disgusting.”

“What the crap?” Kaminari pulled me behind him. “Did that really just happen?”

“All I know is that bastard looks like he’s to blame.”

A Shiketsu student stood in the road, tons of flesh balls around him. One of my hands rested on Kami’s back as I stepped closer to him. “Careful.”

“I’ll kill him!”

“I’m from Shiketsu.” The boy started, and I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. Of course he would monologue.

“Please notice, my school keeps our hats on when we’re working. Why’s that? Because. Each and every one of our movements is crowned by the legacy and honor of our school.” He dropped Kirishima on the ground, making the worst noise ever. “This is a demonstration. Proof of the difference in level between my peers and your vulgar classes. We value obligation and dignity - things that appear to be sorely lacking among you.”

Bakugo laughed. “I really hate your type.”

“He’s hard to follow.”

“He’s saying he thinks he’s better than we are.” I explained. “How about we show him otherwise?”

“Maybe don’t provoke this guy?! Look what he did to Kirishima!”

I pecked Kami on the cheek. “Bug, we can handle him.”

“UA High. I have respect for your school. I take pride in the fact that our institutions are treated as equals. But your class is shameful. You act in ways that disgrace heroes!”

Giant fingers appeared from behind his back.

“He’s attacking again!”

I took a step back. “I don’t want to be gross!”

“Shut up!” Bakugo snapped. “Obligation”? “Dignity”? You just like to hear yourself talk. I don’t see any proof. Show us with your actions, not your cheap words! If you can.”

“You’re worst of all, Bakugo!”

The fingers separated from him, flying towards Bakugo. I pulled the water from my belt, ready to grab them with my whip and pull them away from us if necessary.

Bakugo ran forward, setting up for his special AP shot move. He shot the fingers out of the sky, before lowering his gauntlet.

“I had to make a weak version so I didn’t kill anyone.”

“You know, this is why everyone is terrified of you - you’re way too hardcore.”

The fingers started forming back on the boy’s arms. “Okay, so they float back to him. Disgusting.”

“I see now. I’ll teach you a lesson by breaking you. This will show you what it means to be dignified and behave like a hero!”

The fingers started coming at us again. I stepped back, knowing that someone from a place like Shiketsu wouldn’t just do the same move again.

“He thinks he’s better than us!” Bakugo started running towards him. He started taking out more fingers with his AP shot.

I jumped forward to help, keeping a small whirlpool rotating around me. I’d be able to sense something hitting me from the back, if that was the plan.

“Let’s just get this fight over with. Maybe this will speed things along!”

Two of Kami’s discs shot out, hitting the wall next to the boy as he dodged. “Crap!”

“Work on your aim, and your look. Maybe I can make you something more appealing!”

“Enough talk! Die!”

Bakugo shot out some explosions and smoke filled the area. Just as it cleared, I saw a finger come out from the side, inches from Bakugo’s neck.

“No!”

I threw a wave forward but it was too late. Bakugo was grabbed.

“Once I touch you, you’re my plaything.”

“Bakugo!”

“Idiots,” he grumbled as he was morphed. “Fix this!”

He threw something toward Kaminari, but the boy didn’t notice as I drew my wave back. I moved to Kami’s side, letting the whirlpool swirl around our feet.

“Can you make it bigger?”

I tried pulling moisture from the air, my heart pounding when I realized that it wasn’t working. “The air is too dry, and we’re not close enough to any other bodies of water. This is all I have.”

“This is a demonstration. The test has an unusually low passing rate. At first this seemed counterintuitive given our current world.”

As he started to monologue again, I whispered, “I can soak him, but it’ll leave us vulnerable.”

“Wait for my signal.”

“I decided to thin the herd myself.” The boy continued.

“You’re ignoring the test because you think you’re superior?”

I let the water swirl faster. “You’re crazy. The world needs heroes that can do as they’re asked, not do what they want.”

“I’m simply separating the mediocre from the extraordinary.” He stepped forward, leaning his weight on Kirishima. “By the way. Your comrades here still feel pain in this form. Your untamed electricity will torture your friends if you use it. And you don’t seem to have enough water to hurt me as well as you could. You’re stuck.”

“You’ve been doing nothing but hurling insults at us this entire time.” Kami put a hand to his forehead. I’m kind of starting to take it personally, ya know.”

“Then you’re more self aware than I thought. Take some time to reflect on your failure!”

Kami reached behind him, throwing something. “Reflect on this!”

An explosion rocked behind him, distracting the boy.

“It’s not just a fashion statement. He can use that gear along with his nitro sweat to create simple grenades.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “He tossed it to you.”

Kami nodded at me, and I wrapped the water around the boy, soaking him to the bone.

“By the way, big shot. You stumbled into a really killer spot!” Electricity arced off of Kami’s finger, straight toward the disc.

His electricity, combined with being soaked, shocked him worse than I anticipated. He gasped, falling to his knees.

“Listen up. Bakugo might seem like a jerk on the surface, but he’s actually trying hard to be a pro-hero. He threw that grenade to me while being attacked. That was a result of calm judgement and planning.”

I nodded, noticing our friends were starting to come out of flesh ball form. “And Kirishima is such a good guy that he shoved me out of the way, taking the hit himself!”

“You only know bits and pieces of information about them. Don’t insult what you don’t know!”

The boy stood, fingers appearing around him again. “I’ll teach you to be more aware of your place! You degenerate!”

Kirishima activated his quirk, punching him in the stomach as Bakugo came in and blasted him.

“The more damage he takes, the more people get released.” Kiri pointed out.

Bakugo stood in front of all of us. “No wonder he was only using long distance attacks.”

Kiri nodded at us. “Thanks for the save, you two.”

“What took so long?!”

“You’re so mean! No one’s gonna like you if you -”

“Sorry to interrupt, but could we get our points and get out of here?” I asked, gesturing to the many people that were coming out of ball form. “Before they get us?”

Bakugo licked his lips.

“We’ve got targets.”

[veeranger]

Thoughts on Halo Reach's plot and best to worst noble team members?

you know ive actually been a lot more critical towards reach lately because i think it fails on the biggest thing it advertised: noble team. characters have never really been the strong suit of bungie’s writing (idk who destiny is so dont @ me) and while this isnt usually a major issue, it is an issue when a game wants to sell you on this squad of your teammates it wants you to care about or at least be fond of. ODST and Reach both have a cast of characters that could be really interesting but since halo is a shooter and not really a storytelling kinda game series all they really get are a few lines here and there and some cool moments, nothing really solid or anything to get a glimpse at who they are. maybe thats kinda the point though since spartans are all fucked up broken people like inherently. i dont think thats why bungie did that though

as for reach’s actual plot, i think it works well for what it is, a playable tragedy that tells you the conclusion up front. halo fans who are any level above completely casual knew that reach got completely glassed right before the start of halo ce and the advertising of this was very clear. the fact that you’ve never heard of spartan 3′s or noble team before was a pretty clear indicator of what their fates would be before you even turned on your xbox. the game literally opens with your smashed helmet embedded in the ground as a tombstone to your inevitable heroic sacrifice. reach invokes the same kind of feeling as star wars rogue one, you just know things wont end well for our main characters but you know that their deaths will pave the way for the main series protagonist to eventually win the whole damn thing 3 games/movies from now. 

so even with this in mind you go through reach and you think “wow things are going pretty well, we’re holding out own against the covies and even striking back at key targets” and maybe you forget whats going to happen or you dont and you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. and boy fucking howdy does it drop. jorge dies thinking he just saved reach and as you fall through the atmosphere you realize how hopelessly fucked you are. thats where the game enters its second phase, the “we’re fucked but still fighting” phase, as opposed to the first half of the game where things were still somewhat hopeful. noble six wakes up like a week later to half the planet burning and civilians being slaughtered as they try to evac. the first level of the second half of the game features you busting your ass hard to clear an evac point for civilians only to see them all get shot down and die. its brutal stuff, especially for halo who had never shown the conflict though that lense. 

what follows is a parade of squadmate deaths as your numbers dwindle with every level until its just you and emile, and then just you. unlike in rogue one you actually aren’t immediately told what the key item in this quest is, in this case its cortana, the equivalent to the death star plans in rogue one, the most important thing in the universe since cortana will be the one to slipspace jump to halo 04 and kick off a series of events that will lead to the survival of humanity. but once you get this item suddenly it all makes sense, carter is told this is “what his spartans died for” and to you that means a lot more than it ever would to him. 

reach ends with a profoundly impactful epilogue level where you just. are doomed. you can’t hold out forever and even if you could there’s no rescue coming for you. noble six gave their life to save the universe and never even knew it. the fact that their death isnt a cutscene but you actually yourself have to try to stave off death or just take as many elites with you as you can before they get you, it really adds so much to the impact of the final noble team death. nevermind that six isnt a real character it does work in this case because you’re seeing it from a first person perspective.

so overall my thoughts on reach is that despite the major flaw of not making you care enough about noble team (unless you do, this is my personal view) it does its job very well in portraying the desperate struggle of humanity against a threat that they cannot possibly comprehend or rightfully stand up against, but despite devastating loss the small victories they achieved still ended up mattering in the end. 

now as for noble team i wont do a best to worst but ill give my thoughts on everyone

carter: hardass commander type, not much to say imo. his death scene was his best moment and i wish his relationship with kat had been fleshed out more because it was so so funny to see her pull his strings to get what she wants. you can tell he has the respect of everyone, especially emile. 

kat: the only girl! i actually like cat, im glad they gave her a buzzcut instead of trying to make her sexy or anything even if they did give her that ass in her armor. shes the typical smartass better than you genius character but it works, especially with that accent. i wish i could be friends with her, there was that scene right before she died where she confided in six that this was also her first glassing. her death was kind of shock value to me and i wish she could have at least died with a little more dignity like the rest of noble team but alas :(

jun: probably my least favorite. i cant really remember much of this guy. he’s the only one who got to live and i kind of hate him for that because he was the least interesting of the bunch. 

emile: certainly the most iconic of all the noble spartans. he comes off as sadistic but not a maniac, he listens to carter when he speaks and is on good terms with kat even through his obvious inability to really connect to other people. this is certainly because of the fact that he’s a spartan-3, he’s probably the most “inhuman” of the bunch. i wish his relationship with jorge was given a little more, i liked how despite his pushing jorge early in the game he still mourned his death, and yet refused to carry his dogtags because he knew six was the one who was entrusted with them. his death was very iconic i think everyone remembers that. 

jorge: the big man himself, his death is what set the tone for the second half of the game and was probably pretty impactful to most people playing. i always thought it was interesting that he was a spartan-2 and not a 3 like the rest of noble, i wonder why that was. his relationship with halsey was interesting and it showed that not all spartans hated the devil woman for what she did to them. his defining characteristic was his big heart and that was especially interesting for a spartan-2, that he managed to hold onto something like that through all the shit he probably went through. 

[furyfought]

abernathy is a small town, surely you’ve met AGATHA KLEIN ; they can be a little IRREVERENT & OPPORTUNISTIC but have no fear , the TWENTY SEVEN year old definitely makes up for it by being IMPISH & SENSITIVE . most of the time anyway .  they’re usually seen around KLEIN & ASSOCIATES, LLC , as a CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY . you know, i hear they’re affiliated with the local mc, iron kings as an ATTORNEY . they’ve got this vibe of A HEART GROWN RAVENOUS, A CYANIDE CENTER ENCAPSULATED BY SACCHARINE FRUIT, AND A SOUL IN THE FORM OF A SCRIBBLE WITH FANGS going on , makes them easily recognizable.

loosely inspired by jennifer check (jennifer's body), wendy byrde (ozark), ginger fitzgerald (ginger snaps), elizabeth sloane (miss sloane), john silver (black sails), & BBHMM.

+ pinterest, stats.

hey, friends. i’m devin (or dev) & very tickled to be here. agatha’s a combination of two of my favorite muses, and i can only hope that you’ll love her as much as i do. 🤎

"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒. 𝐍𝐎. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓."

agatha’s story isn’t one that she likes to tell anymore. she feels it’s useless: to be defined by the actions of others, to attempt to battle the preconceived notions that run rampant regardless of what one says or does. she doesn’t want to beg for understanding anymore, or to claw her way from beneath the filth she’s made of her life. all that most know is all that she can bear to have known. the rest? it’s confetti; a meager concession in a game of chess. if you know her, is that a fact or a weapon to be used against her?

when it comes to the stories that can be told, however.. perhaps the most important is background. agatha’s an abernathy native: raised in grandiose park, flew the coop for college, only to settle back down in bordeaux apartments. klein & associates, llc. has been in her family for generations, each forefather serving increasingly questionable clients. agatha’s life, like that of many kleins before her, was already planned before she’d ever even been a thought in her parents’ minds. under her mother’s rule, there wasn’t any room for straying from that path. agatha would be smart; she would be clean; and she would be, without fail, someone. in other words, she would be her perfect replica. imagine the disappointment when agatha was anything but. 

agatha’s childhood can be summed up by three things: a door slammed shut in her face, an ear-piercing howl, and the chronic longing to go home — wherever that was. it’s another thing she doesn’t talk about, another thing she tries not to think about. those three things have followed her into adulthood, but they’ve taken different forms now. no longer is agatha a child screaming her throat raw — no; now, she cries out in other more productive ways. if you were to ask her, she’d tell you that she’s a woman grown; the past is behind her, buried in the sand where it belongs. the truth is trickier, less absolute. agatha is a child in the form of a woman; forever in the midst of a metamorphosis, unsure if for better or worse. she lacks foresight & lives largely in the now. she can’t imagine a future for herself and her choices in life reflect that.

agatha succeeds because she’s pretty, powerful, and convincing. wherever she falls short, her father is sure to more than make up for it. it’s amazing what people will do for the right price, and when they want to keep certain secrets from ever seeing the light. nepotism & immense privilege have done wonders for her, but she does.. actually work hard, too. she has an incredible memory & is really good at digging for more information & making her case. if she tells you that she’s going to do something, then she’s going to do it right no matter what. she’s dogged in that way, blinded to the outside world by her stubbornness. she works long hours & values her career above all else. she thinks it’s the only sure thing she has & views it as the one stable, secure thing in her life.

agatha is lonely to the point of defect. she lacks a sense of security in her life, which is why she’s so career-focused. she genuinely thinks that the only person ever looking out for her is her dad. she becomes very predictable once you realize that she will always pick the winning team; that she will forever follow the money; and that she is always going to make the decision that most benefits her. that isn’t to say that she doesn’t have any friends omg, but.. she doesn’t really trust easily. if she trusts you and considers you near and dear to her heart, then she’ll choose you. but until she has that reassurance? you’re on your own, bro. 

but like.. you literally would not know that unless you got burned by her. agatha is really good at listening and really good at playing parts for people. the thing with having no story is that she’s free to create her own. if you need a hero, she can be that. if you need a villain, she can definitely be that. she’s eerily good at getting chummy enough to make people think she’s close, only for them to realize.. they don’t actually know anything real about her? fun stuff. 

i think.. her entire life is a vie for power while also wanting to let go of that desire while also being afraid of what might happen if she were to let go of that desire. she’s not tht bad. she can play decent, be a guy’s guy. and she does come off tht way. it’s jus.. underneath there’s tht like .. tht rot tht she can’t scrub away. n it rears its ugly little head smtimes. but. :^) she can be cool n shoot the shit u kno.. heheh.

anyway.. lighter stuff<3 puts the gaslight and gatekeep in girlboss. talks just like her daddy, except for when she’s in the courtroom. egocentric without ever meaning to be. (spoiler: it’s a smoke screen.) she can, must, and will find a way to twist your words into something she can make sense of. believes in mixed drink supremacy. will absolutely smoke all of your weed + play dumb about hogging the blunt. plays dumb a lot actually, until it’s time to be smart. she’s touchy-feely, but freezes up whenever someone touches her. stares — a lot. can’t ever be the person to pick you up after a rough night out, because she’s likely there with you egging you on to do one more shot. every event is a tits out event / she has to be the most overdressed person in the convenience store at all times. can, must, and will be your unsolicited sugar momma. YOU SPIL-DBFDHFDJHBF LIPSTICK IN MY VALENTINO WHITE BAG? energy. thinks everything is a competition because it is. if she loved you once then she loves you forever. thinks going 20 over the speed limit isn’t speeding, actually. a bit of an emotional anarchist. can’t actually take what she’ll dish out. teases u if she likes u. teases u if she doesn’t like u. doesn’t care abt the feud as long as she’s gettin’ tht shmoney. big fan of an emotional sucker punch. 

"𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋."  + below are some ideas open to any & all muses no matter the age, gender, affiliation, etc !

i’ve left how she got involved with the mc totally absent from this intro bc i was hoping to plot it out! i’d love it if someone wanted to be her “in”. could be they were a childhood friend in need of help, a client she got close to, jus smth tht happened by chance.. whtever we come up with works! <3

if anyone needs an evil ex gf .. She’s Here. she will lie, cheat, scam, trash yr car, empty yr bank account.. whtvr you need, baybee<3

conversely.. not-so-evil ex gf? agatha can be nice & caring without there being a catch sometimes. maybe they still talk. maybe they’re friends. u tell me.

fwb / ex fwb? she do be sending them ‘u up?’ texts. 

someone tht agatha only got close to bc she wanted them to testify/be a character witness in court oopz<3

omg actual friends pls.. ppl tht Know her. tht See her. ppl tht she cares abt n would actually do anything for. friends!!!!!!!!!!!!

agatha has “get off my lawn” energy so i think it would be very funnie if someone needed a place to crash n she let them stay at hers thinking it was temporary n then they jus.. did not leave. n she’s like 🤨 hello?

an almost smth? anything weird n awkward n unspoken tht maybe fizzled out or maybe still lingers under the surface?

agatha doesn’t have a budding drinking problem but if she does no she doesn’t but if she does then<3 drinking buddy? someone that she’s gotten into questionable shenanigans with? poor bartender tht has to deal w her trying to “help” them as she waits for her uber to come? the possibilities are endless.

agatha’s all bark n very little bite but i still think it’d be funnie if she had a hateship. jus putting tht out there<3

if yr muse wnts an ego boost via unrequited crush.. lmk. i’m willing to hulk smash all of agatha’s dignity jus for u.

omggg a dealer? >.> who said tht omg #hacked.. 

on n off again thingz? lorde wrote tht "i am my mother's child i'll love you til my breathing stops / i'll love you till you call the cops on me" line abt her</3

budding friendships!!!!!!! ppl tht she goes to pilates or yoga with; people she gets brunch with; ppl she keeps running into n its like heeey u :); little platonic crushes jus . all of the cute platonic thingz tht make her go wtf is this 🤨. 

i mean.. if anyone wants a sugar momma.. I MEANNN..

college friends!! law school friends!! ppl she met over the summer while interning somewhere!! i left tht purposely vague, hint-hint.

tinder dates gone wrong. ghosted tinder dates. tinder thingz.

agatha’s been attending galas / banquets / office partiez for ages now so if anyone wants to be her plus one or her lil fake date... :^) could be cute. cld be angsty. world is our oyster. 

speaking of which.. coworkers n maybe even a lil personal assistant would be so sexie.

[twinkbouttapounce]

@geraltwhumpweek

TITLE: Sword Swallower

SHIP: Geralt/Jaskier, Geralt/OMC, mentioned past Eskel/Geralt

PROMPT DAY: Day 4: Betrayal

MEDIUM: Netflix

WARNINGS: extremely dubious consent/noncon/rape, victim blaming, transphobia, negative views on sex work

SUMMARY: After the events of Blaviken Geralt is shunned near everywhere he goes. At some point, his money runs out and there is nothing to left offer except his body. Lambert, Eskel, and Vesemir have some thoughts on what Geralt has brought to their reputation. Jaskier sees a pretty man at a tavern and wants to make him smile.

WORD COUNT: 4,372

AUTHOR’S NOTES:  Special thanks to @wingedquill​ (WingedQuill), @witcher-and-decay​ (ChaosWriting), @battlships​ (battleships), and, as always, my number one cheerleader @nanero11​ (nanero11) for indulging me. witcher-and-decay suggested genderfluid Jaskier and I adore him for it. It isn't especially relevant to the fic but I like to think Geralt is demisexual in this one. Because I adore them and think you should read their fics their AO3 tags are in parentheses.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25085653

Geralt is desperate.

Hunts have not been profitable as of late, and his provisions have long since run out. Witchers have always had problems with people refusing to hold their ends of contracts but since Blaviken it’s only gotten worse. Humans are more distrustful of witchers in general and they loath Geralt in particular.

Geralt doesn’t have the healing potions to deal with the frostbite burning across his hands and cheeks. He hasn’t had the time or resources to brew in months. No one will sell him alchemic ingredients, and there are only so many he can find on his own. His fingers are cramped and numb with the cold. His body feels dangerously sluggish and feverish sweat has been gathering in his armor all day.

The pace of his heart is too slow to keep his body warm. Geralt is going to die if he doesn’t warm up soon, he knows it, but he hasn’t the money for room nor brothel. He imagines what his family will say when they hear of his pitiful death, frozen on the side of a road. He thinks Vesemir would cry, but he would be angry when he learned Geralt hadn’t sold his horse before the cold got to her. It’s a strange thought, that Vesemir would mourn his son’s poor treatment of a horse more than his passing. Eskel might cry, but he’d more likely lock himself in his room for a week before burying his emotions in sex. Lambert would be ashamed of him. He knows no matter how much they deny it they each hold resentment towards him. His new reputation as the Butcher of Blaviken has made their lives harder too, not just his own.

It does little to boost his morale, thinking of how he’s let his family down, but there’s not much else to consider aside from the blistering cold. The guilt kept him from returning to the keep this year, he’s not letting go of it just because he’s cold. There’s a tavern a ways up the road, but he doubts he’ll get warmed up enough to spare himself a sorry fate before they realize who he is. It’ll be a miracle if he gets past the door.

Still, Geralt pushes on. He can feel the warmth of the tavern wash over him from where he stands in the doorway. The drastic change in temperature burns Geralt’s too-sensitive skin, makes the frostbite sting, and his muscles ache. He steps inside.

The tavern is bustling despite the sun having long set. The smell of hard cider and stale sweat assaults Geralt’s nose. He sneezes, and it feels like something rattles in his head and chest. There’s a sheep cooking somewhere, and the smell makes Geralt’s mouth water. He can’t recall the last time he ate, but he knows he hasn’t had meat in at least three months.

“Oi!” Someone calls over the crowd.

Geralt’s head snaps the source of the noise on instinct. The call wasn’t directed at him and no one is on their way to shoo him out of the inn like a stray cat just yet. He moves towards the hearth, pulls his hood lower over his head and makes sure his hair is properly tucked in. There’s nothing he can do about his swords or eyes, but he won’t let his hair be the thing that gives him away.

There’s a spot on the floor next to the fire, and Geralt’s body suddenly feels like it’s made of lead. He leans against the wall and watches through bleary eyes as patrons and waitstaff move about. His eyelids keep sinking lower, lower, and Geralt is losing the energy to pull them back up. Despite the warmth surrounding him, it’s likely Geralt will die if he lets himself sleep. Dying here, where it’s warm and comfortingly ambient, doesn’t sound too bad when the alternative is dying alone in the snow.

Geralt’s eyelids droop one last time, and he listens as more water is put between himself and the noises of the tavern. They come through distorted, senseless, until they blend into one continually changing sound. His body is falling now, and there’s nothing but warmth and people. If he tries, he can imagine he’s in the mess hall at Kaer Morhen, before the sacking when it had been full of life.

-

The tavern is reasonably populated for noon. A bard sings in the middle of the room, though his audience seems uninterested. Geralt slinks towards the nearest corner. There’s a booth where he can see the room and have his back to the wall at the same time. It’s nice, but he would feel better if he could see the door. That particular comfort doesn’t seem to be in his cards today.

His hair isn’t pulled back, he’s lost his last tie, and the fact makes him anxious so he pulls at the edges of his hood as he sits. He props his swords on the booth next to him and makes himself comfortable.

A barmaid saunters over with a bored expression. Bored is better than afraid. Or hungry, Geralt thinks bitterly. He orders an ale and drops a few coins into her waiting hand. The bard starts a new song, postures against a stool and a beam as he makes a crude joke about abortion. The crowd boos and Geralt smiles into his drink.

He watches the bard from the corner of his eye, just because he’s the most animated thing in the room, and absently calculates expenses. It’s hot, uncomfortably so even for Geralt, meaning if he stays just outside of town he won’t need a room. He needs to restock his bandages, and it couldn’t hurt to buy more potion ingredients, but those things can wait. Food is what’s important, and he’s running low. The bard picks a couple of rolls the crowd has thrown at him from the floor and stuffs them into his waistband.

It’s almost a nice enough day that Geralt could consider dosing in his corner. It wouldn’t be comfortable but he’s so rarely tired when he should be that he knows better than to deny himself a nap when the urge strikes. Instead, the bard takes a drink from the barmaid’s tray and sits across from Geralt. He looks out the window.

The bard expects something, Geralt can tell, but he doesn’t want to think of what. A review, he asks for, and the witcher knows better than to hope that’s all but lets himself anyways. He decides to humor the bard for a moment.

“I know who you are,” he says, and the conversation is over.

Geralt stands and gathers his things but the bard keeps talking.

“You’re the witcher,” he calls. “Geralt of Rivia.”

It’s enough to get the attention of a young man, one desperate enough to contract Geralt for help. He thinks he may make it out yet unscathed, devils may not be real but stealing men and vermin are, both easy enough to scare off. The boy gives Geralt the money with a vote of confidence, then leans in and snags a lock of hair that’s fallen from his hood. He holds it to his nose and the pull of his breath is cool on Geralt’s cheeks.

“Come find me after and we can talk about… additional services.”

Geralt bites his tongue, lets his eyes run over the rest of the tavern before he levels the boy with a stare. He nods, albeit with some trepidation, because the money is nice and he’s grown used to boys and men thinking they’re worth his time. His compliance assures that he walks away with his dignity mostly intact. Geralt’s skin crawls with the phantom hands of all those who have made the same offer. He distracts himself by recalculating his expenses taking into account the hundred and fifty ducat in his pocket.

He can deal with one more self-important boy for a night out of the rain.

Geralt leaves the tavern and blinks in the sunlight. The bard is still following him.

-

Just before Geralt can sink into his final sleep he is kicked. His head bangs against the wall as he jolts back to reality. There is a man standing over him, hands on hips. He is angry, though he does not appear to recognize Geralt yet. There are far fewer people in the tavern than there had been when he sat down.

He rubs the sore spot on his crown.

The man calls Geralt a variety of names interspersed with more than enough expletives. He is, understandably, upset that Geralt slept in his establishment without paying and demands compensation. It is clear that Geralt has no money to give and there is nothing of value in his bags.

The man pulls Geralt’s hood away and the witcher curls in on himself expecting a kick. Instead, the man’s hand travels to cup his jaw. The thumb resting on Geralt’s cheekbone is strong and steady as the man studies him. The following pat and muttered “you’ll do” tells Geralt he is satisfactory, for what he doesn’t know.

Geralt’s head swims as he’s lifted to his feet. His legs refuse to hold his weight so he leans into the man. He’s led to a back room, and the walk leaves him breathless. The man deposits him on a mattress.

Geralt takes a moment to assess his surroundings. The bed is low to the ground but the fire is warm. Geralt’s hands flex in the mountain of sheets and furs. The man is of middle age, not especially notable in any way. There are objects scattered about the room to suggest he has children, and likely a wife.

It strikes Geralt has tragic—and maybe a bit ironic—when the man begins fiddling with the straps of his armor. He gets as far as Geralt’s shoulder pads before he’s demanding Geralt rid himself of the leather. He thinks about fighting, or simply walking out, but his legs feel boneless and the bed is so soft. It doesn’t cross his mind that he’s made a mistake until he’s already unlaced his armor and halfway out his shirt.

A grin slowly bleeds onto the man’s face. The flesh of Geralt’s chest is easy to hide under clothes, just enough for people to assume it’s muscle rather than fat. Naked, however, there is no room for doubt. Geralt’s hands still on the strings of his trousers and the man steps closer.

He reaches for Geralt’s chest. The cold of his hands sends a shiver down Geralt’s spine. Calloused thumbs run over his nipples while the rest of the fingers kneed at his flesh. Geralt is hardly ashamed of his body, he knows he is a man and no flatness of his chest will further that, but discomfort buds in his stomach with the attention regardless.

The hands run down his sides, flit over the cut of Geralt’s muscles and the jut of his hips, before hooking into the edge of his trousers. He pulls them away and drops them onto the rest of the witcher’s clothes in a pile on the floor. The cold bites at Geralt and the man leans him back until his back connects with the sheets. His legs are spread and his cunt exposed to the cool air. He shivers again. He can’t seem to stop.

“Isn’t this a surprise, “ the man hums.

His tone makes Geralt want to scream, or actually, it makes him want to cry. He tired and cold, so many feelings get confusing.

His folds are pried apart and two spit-slick fingers enter him. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, made worse when the fingers part inside him. The man’s nails scratch at his walls but he ignores Geralt’s displeased grunts.

“Look how you open,” the man says more to himself than to Geralt.

It takes him a moment to gather the energy to mumble a reply.

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

A third finger is added, quick enough Geralt knows it’s meant to hurt him, and he whines in the back of his throat. It’s too much too fast and the warmth he’d gathered drifting by the fire is leaving him. Fingers and tongue alternate until Geralt is wet and within moments the man’s pants are off. He pushes in as deep as he can. Geralt’s cunt burns with the stretch.

“‘S too much,” he slurs.

The witcher reaches a hand down, to do what he doesn’t know. The man’s hips rear back before driving forward again. An ache begins in time with Geralt’s heart, flaring with the man’s thrusts. He sets a quick pace, pumps himself in and out without so much as acknowledging Geralt’s pained whimpers.

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you?” he teases. “Always wanted to fuck a witcher. So high and mighty, look at you now, freak. Are you a man they made into a woman? I think not, with how needy your pretty little pussy is. Poor little girl, don’t worry, I know you’re not a man. I’ll treat you right.”

The witcher counts boards in the ceiling past the man’s shoulder and distractedly pities his wife rather than answering. He thinks of prostitutes that treated him like glass as soon as his clothes were off and the few that had chased him out. He thinks of Eskel’s hands, big and soft even when they were exploring teens. He lets the thoughts come to him so he isn’t alone, freezing in a tavern’s backroom while the owner fucks into him.

When the man spills he collapses onto the bed next to Geralt. He isn’t immediately chased out so Geralt pulls the blankets over himself. His cunt protests the movement, and his mind denies that he has a cunt at all. Wrapped in furs and uncomfortably wet, Geralt closes his eyes.

-

The bard, Jaskier, seems intent on following Geralt. He’s annoyingly talkative, and in the heat his words only feed Geralt’s blooming headache. He seems to have visions of accompanying Geralt on future hunts, but Geralt knows he’ll grow bored after just one. There is no glamor to be found on the Path. If the hunt does not scare the bard off, then frustration will. Jaskier does not have the money to be worth Geralt’s time.

“I could be your barker, “ Jaskier prattles on, as if Geralt wants or needs any more attention. “Spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken, the Sword Swallower.”

Something sharp wrenches in the witcher’s chest. He knows what he is called, he has heard the names on far too many villagers’ lips before they spit on him to be unaware, but to hear it spoken so freely stirs a myriad of dark feelings in him. He is not proud of his titles. They do nothing save add to his and his fellow witchers’ hardship.

Geralt beckons the bard and punches him so hard the wind leaves him.

The bard still follows.

-

Despite his guilt, Geralt returns to Kaer Morhen.

What had been a desperate effort to keep from freezing to death became commonplace. Most are reluctant to exchange money with the Butcher of Blaviken, but many can be swayed to accept his body instead. There is a thrill in forcing a witcher to his knees, and even more in a witcher of Geralt’s circumstances. While this has assured his survival for the past year, he refuses to be caught so vulnerable as the first time.

He has yet to buy another horse, he won’t let another die because of him, and so there is no reason to visit the stables. There is a familiarity in the stone walls of Kaer Morhen. His hands trace the walls as he moves to his room. It’s the same as he left it—bed made, empty potion bottles on the nightstand, sketchbook forgotten on a shelf—except for a thick layer of dust. He drops his bags near the foot of the bed and breathes in deep.

Geralt hears the others before he sees them. Lambert announces his presence the moment he arrives by screaming it from the bottom of the main stairs. The scrape of furniture overhead tells Geralt that Vesemir is rearranging the furniture, as he always does within the first week of his arrival. Geralt knows the banging of pots and pans is Eskel when the smell of curry filters up to his room.

He waits as long as possible before revealing his homecoming, staring at the ceiling and tracing the drawings carved into his bedframe while he stalls. Eventually, Eskel rings the dinner bell, and that’s the end of it. Geralt heaves himself up and runs a hand through his hair. He knows he looks bad, too pale even for him, sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks, but he does his best to make himself presentable.

Lambert decks him under the eye the moment he steps into the kitchen.

-

The devil turns out to be a sylvan and Geralt meets Filavandrel, king of the elves. It’s a depressing encounter, not that Geralt would have expected any different. Both he and the bard narrowly avoid having their throats cut. He gives the elves his hundred and fifty ducat to assuage some of his guilt, resigning himself to seeking out the young man who’d given it to him in the first place. He only hopes the boy is still interested.

Jaskier praises Geralt from where he toddles behind, the beginnings of a song on his lips, and Geralt prepares for their inevitable split. It seems one near-death experience was not enough to dissuade the bard, as he promises yet again to change the public’s opinion of him.

Geralt yanks Roach to a stop to glare at the bard. He is tired and there is work to be done, work that he might have been able to go without if the bard hadn’t run his mouth to the elves.

“What do you want, bard?” he demands.

Jaskier has the audacity to look confused. His hands still momentarily, then begin drumming at the body of Filavandrel’s lute.

“I want to write songs,” he says unsurely. “Good ones, songs full of adventure. And for that I need stories.”

The witcher growls. He can smell Jaskier’s nervousness, can hear the spike in his heart rate.

“No, you don’t.” Jaskier opens his mouth but Geralt refuses to give him the time to speak. “Or at least that’s not all you want. You want stories? I bet you do, about how you fucked the woman witcher, brought the Sword Swallower to her knees. You couldn’t buy me with what you earn in a year bard, fuck off.”

Geralt kicks Roach into a gallop, leaving Jaskier to flounder in the dust.

He finds the young man, promises he’s dealt with the problem even though he has no way of knowing the sylvan won’t come around again, and lives up to his moniker as the Sword Swallower. He leaves Posada with a hundred ducat and a bitter flavor in his mouth. It feels like an insult to the two and a half hundred he could have had.

Jaskier catches up to him a mile outside the town.

-

Geralt doubles over, touching what will surely be a bruise within the next hour. Eskel slaps Lambert and drags him to the other side of the room by his collar.

“Nice to see you too Lam,” Geralt says.

Vesemir gives Geralt a once over as he rights himself.

“You look like shit,” he says.

Geralt shrugs. The older witcher gives him an unimpressed look. Vesemir scolds Lambert for picking fights and the ensuing argument distracts him long enough for Eskel to bring the bowls and curry to the table.

Dinner is silent for the most part, the air tense. Geralt does his best to take up as little space as possible. He wishes he hadn’t put his hair up, maybe then he would have a shield between himself and the other wolves. He can feel Lambert seething across the table, and Vesemir’s motions are too stiff to denote anything except dissatisfaction. Eskel hasn’t looked at him yet.

It’s Lambert that breaks the silence, as it always is.

“So we’re not going to talk about Geralt screwing us all over by murdering ten people then letting people fuck him like a whore?”

Geralt sucks in a breath too fast, chokes on his curry, and feels himself flush with shame. He’d hoped news of his less reputable deeds hadn’t come to the others’ attention just yet, or that they would chalk it up to meaningless conjecture. The realization that he won’t be able to deny it makes Geralt’s eyes sting.

“Lam, we’re at the fucking table. Can it wait?” Eskel groans.

“You’re saying no one has come up and tried to fuck you? No one had asked you if you had a cunt?”

Eskel ducks his head and dread sinks like a stone in Geralt’s stomach. They weren’t supposed to be involved in any way. They weren’t even supposed to know about Geralt whoring himself, much less be propositioned as a result. There isn’t enough air in the room.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t what? Mean for us to hear about it?” Lambert’s voice is cold. “Well, we fucking did. Just because your cunt gets needy and you like the coin doesn’t mean you get to ruin the rest of our reputations, fucking slag.”

Eskel stays silent and Geralt bows his head. He feels too nauseous to eat. He can’t explain himself either. He’s going to throw up if he opens his mouth.

“Watch your language,” Vesemir scolds. Lambert scoffs. “Eskel, how do you feel about it?”

Eskel hesitates and as Geralt waits with bated breath it feels as if nothing has ever been so important as the other witcher’s, his best friend and first love’s, answer.

“... It would be nice if he told them we weren’t all like that.”

“Not—” Geralt chokes on his own words “—not whores or not girls?”

“Not whores or girls—you know I didn’t mean it like that Geralt! Just—we aren’t all like you, in fact, you’re the only one like you. I just don’t want people asking me if I have a quim on jobs, alright?”

Geralt feels cold. And hot. He’s burning with shame on the outside and freezing with betrayal and guilt on the inside. The apologetic look on Eskel’s face does nothing to soothe him. Lambert looks like the cat that got the cream, all smug satisfaction. He’s won the argument. Vesemir just stares down at his plate. Geralt is alone.

He nods slowly, stands on shaking legs, and gives naught but a mumbled excuse before running back to his room.

The winter seems to last forever.

-

Jaskier tells him time and time again that he is not interested in fucking Geralt because he has a cunt.

He is, however, interested in fucking Geralt in a general manner, and the witcher isn’t quite sure how to take that.

Geralt tries to shake the bard for months. With each unsuccessful attempt, Jaskier only reiterates his respect for Geralt as a man and as a person. It’s something that no one has ever done before.

When his mother had left him it was on a whim that Vesemir chose to bring him to the keep. He was promised a boy and was left with a little girl who claimed she was a boy. Rather than leave a child to starve, Vesemir had humored Geralt, taught him how to be a witcher, and when he still would not admit his femininity it was accepted that Geralt be allowed to complete the trials. There were too few parents willing to let their children become witchers, they could not afford to nitpick the bodies of those given freely.

Jaskier’s continued insistence on the importance of self-proclaimed genders seems strangely personal, but the sentiment puts something at ease in Geralt. The bard reveals after some months that he is of a similar disposition, though not the same. Most days, Jaskier claims neither male nor female, preferring to allow people to draw conclusions as they please. A guessing game, he calls it when Geralt asks. There are a select few days where the bard is more firmly aligned, usually with femininity.

The bard’s gender is an interesting thing to observe, so different from Geralt’s own and yet exactly the same.

They fall in love at some indeterminable point. Geralt shows Jaskier fields where the flowers grow thickest, teaches him how to fight, buys him shiny trinkets, all the things he things the bard will enjoy. Jaskier gives him everything, and Geralt does his best to give back.

Jaskier asks where Geralt goes in the winter, and Geralt tells him he travels. When he asks why Geralt tells him of the cost of being hated, the cost of being a witcher and a butcher. He asks about Geralt’s family, and where they had been when Geralt was shunned, starving and freezing—dying. It hurts to talk about Lambert’s scorn, Eskel’s quiet agreeance, Vesemir’s unwillingness to intervene, even decades later.

Jaskier cries, then he vows to murder any other wolf witcher he comes across. The promise gives him mixed feelings. On one hand, Jaskier’s devotion, his care, makes warmth bloom in Geralt’s chest. On the other, some part of Geralt still wishes them well, wants his family to be a part of his life. It’s confusing.

Jaskier keeps Geralt’s prostitution out of his music, and soon enough the propositions decrease. Eventually, the propositions become so few and far between it’s like they never happened. Jaskier boosts his reputation enough that he is rarely unable to find work, and when he can’t Jaskier brings in enough coin he doesn’t have to worry. It’s new, having the praise of the people and the respect of his lover, and Geralt finds himself happier than he can ever recall being. He doesn’t know how to thank Jaskier for so dramatically changing his reputation, but he tries. He is no longer the Butcher of Blaviken and the Sword Swallower, he is Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf.

[northernxstories]

Trading in Dignity

It was shocking how quickly it all came to an end. It started in the 2020s and within a decade, after the third global pandemic, they were faced with the worst yet. All the science deniers, those who refused to distance, wear masks and all of that ... well, most of them caught it. Some of them caught it without showing a single symptom. That didn’t matter because approximately eight months after you were infected, after you thought you were all well again, your lungs started to bleed. Nothing could make it stop. You drowned in your own bed, at night, sometimes in mere minutes. Most of the time, you just went to sleep and never woke again. It was grim.

The survivors were rare and the disease progressed so quickly, institutions fell almost overnight. Whole cities became ghost towns. Survivor teams started sweeping, looking for children, infants, pets trapped in houses and then supplies. Survivors came first. There were a lot of supplies. Not that many people.

She was rare and she knew it. Immune. How? No idea. Luck? Genetics? It didn’t matter at the end of the day. The world grieved and cities were abandoned for smaller communities. It wasn’t like in the horror movies or post-apocalypse fiction. No one ate people, bought and sold people, or any of that ridiculousness. For the most part people tried to help one another. Older people banded together to raise the children who survived. With the population reduced in the span of a decade to less than a third, it became very clear that every single human was a necessary addition. Funny how prejudice and differences in sexuality mattered a whole lot less when the end of the human race was at stake. All that shit became real irrelevant real fast.

In a spate of particularly weird coincidence, some communities lost more of a certain type of people. The east coast of North America for example had nearly no men left. It was startling, You could travel for days, scout many towns and communities and find less than a dozen males. West of the Rocky mountains however, the opposite was true. The average was 1 self-identified female to 20 self-identified males (like people were checking - get real). Some communities the ratio was more like 100 to 1. In the mid-west, prairie region, well there was almost no people left there at all. No one knew why they were so hard hit but the coasts survived. Perhaps it was just population distribution. Scientists would be studying it long after she was dead.

So, in a world where you lived with almost 100 men in your community and the number of single women could be counted on one hand, and you wouldn’t need every finger? Yeah. This was fantastic. 

Again, it wasn’t like the books though. She wasn’t chained, or bound or really mistreated in any way. Nope. None of that.

She was a strong survivor. She had a thriving garden and a number of animals of her own. Her house was cute as hell and in really good shape. Her grandmother had taught her to sew and the rest she learned from books. The little town was powered by a local dam that kept the predatory animals such as the dog packs, at bay with electrified fencing in key areas, including around her goats whom the wolves thought looked super yum yum.

But even she needed supplies. I mean, was she going with a raiding party into a city to get tampons and advil? Ummm ... no obviously. That was terrible. That’s how people died! Those places were not safe. It took rigging and expertise she did not have to be on a scavenger team. Plus do you think they would be cool having one of the few women in town go out with them? You’re dreaming if you think that’s gonna happen buddy and no one went without a team. That was a fucking death wish.

So, she had to shop. She had to trade. Fact of life. They didn’t want her tasty preserves or baking. Nope. That they could do for themselves. She traded the one thing that few had around her - her pussy. Fucked up right? 

Prostitution was the oldest game in the book for a reason it turned out. So she went into the store and put in her order for supplies that she needed. Flour, tampons, books for example. There was a tally and a calculation conducted. She was a modest girl. It rarely went above two visits. Then there was a jar. Yup. A fucking jar, with names on it. Men who had paid into the credit system. 

“One” The merchant stated bluntly marking it in his book. 

“One?” She repeated, a little surprised by how light the requirement was. Her list had been pretty long.  

“Yeah, Bernice fell pregnant, she’s off the list until after and maybe permanently since the Bennett brothers are putting serious court to her. All remaining traders just had their value go up.” 

That’s what they called them - traders. Like she was wheeling a cart through town with little jars or something instead of letting men cum in a minimum of two holes per trade. It was awesome. By the way, that was sarcasm in case you can’t tell.

“Nice.” She replied with a nod, “I hope the baby is healthy.” That was the customary statement these days when anyone fell pregnant. You see, the virus didn’t exactly go away and infant mortality was high as fuck. It was depressing as hell. She didn’t know a single woman who didn’t half dread getting knocked up, even if they really wanted to be a mother. It was a huge risk and all too likely to end in just more painful loss. Yay for survival.

“We all do.” the merchant stated sincerely as he pushed the jar toward her. Sliding her hand in, she let slips of paper, card stock that was refreshed so often you couldn’t get a feel for any one particular person, just dance through her fingertips. You just had to stick your hand in and pray to whatever god you might actually believe in that you didn’t get one of the gross old coots who thought bathing was fucking optional. Last time she had one of those she had about forty baths and still felt disgusting.

She pulled out the card and took a deep breath before flipping it over. Both her and the merchant looked surprised. “Well good luck there. Didn’t even know he paid in.” The merchant marked his book and then nodded. “I’ll get your order in as soon as ... you have about four days before you’ll have had to pay up.” 

That was another thing, the man had to confirm you had ‘paid’. However, if that man lied, he was off the books permanently. Not only that but the other men in town usually paid you a visit and beat the holy hell out of you. It was an honour system true but most followed the rules, out of honour or out of necessity, it didn’t matter at the end of the day. Men who might only get one fuck a year with a ‘willing’ woman weren’t about to lose the privilege because you decided to get fucking cute about it.

“Thanks ... Have a good day now.” She replied with a sincere smile. The merchant was a good man after all. He never put his name in and if he found out one of the men was cruel or unkind even, he’d return their credits and tell them to start getting real used to the sweet feel of their left hand because that was about all they were getting from now on. 

She walked through town, that name flipping through her mind. It was just so unexpected. 

Well no time like the present she supposed. She had had a bath last night, given the old cunt a tidy and all that. She had a debt to pay and she just knew she wouldn’t sleep right until it was paid off good and proper. Yes, it was a little fucked up but that was the system and she had lived with it for a while now. Strangely you kinda got used to it. Most men were pretty appreciative about it. 

Walking down the main street, she noted the weird combination of old and new that had blended together in this world. Cars jerry-rigged with solar panels to charge the batteries travelled on the same road as horse-drawn carriages. Kids wore sneakers cause there were still plenty of those left in old stores but paired them with clearly homemade clothes and then spiked them with leather jackets kitted out with studs and chunks of cell phones used as artistic decoration.

She walked until she hit the slight outskirts of the main town area. She could see him now, his arm lifting as he pounded the steel into shape with a large hammer. Farriers, blacksmiths, knife-makers, welders and so on made a nice living in this new world. You could always tell who they were because they smelled like fire and had arms the size of her entire body it seemed. She licked her lips and straightened her back. For the first time in well over a year, she had to admit that she might just be looking forward to this one.

“Hey ...” She greeted. He put down the hammer and shifted up his eye protection, squinting at her in the bright light of day. “Hey.” He replied back, his voice a little gruff. “You looking for something?” He asked.

“Ummm ... pulled your name.” Turns out all the cool things she was saying in her head since pulling his name had just fallen right on out of her brain. Well I wasn’t cool before, she thought bleakly with a tinge of amusement, Guess I’m not now either. Maybe the next apocalypse.

He stopped, frowning lightly as if he wasn’t sure what she was talking about and then his expression cleared and his eyes grew wide. “Oh.” he said. It was actually more of a sound. He cleared his throat. “I ... I  ... yeah. Now?” he queried.

When she nodded, “If you have the time. Otherwise ... I can come back.” I can come back. What the hell, was she Uber Eats? What the fuck is wrong with her?

He shook his head, “Now is good.” He tipped his head toward the interior. “Let me shut this down a bit and then I’ll wash up and be in.” 

He seemed nervous. Why did she like that so much? Maybe she was bored of the older guys who just had you bend over or would just unzip when they saw you coming. No effort man. No fucking effort. Literally. Wham bam, you’ve paid for your groceries Ma’am.

Mr. Muscles here better put in some damn effort at least.

[bucket-girl]

Chapter 2-1 Personal Info logs

In chapter 2, it’s possible to buy the personal info of Nao, Reko, Gin and Q-Taro with tokens, but it’s easy to miss. Reloading saves and redoing minigames is a hassle so I wrote them down for convenience. Most of them are in the form of conversing with AIs, I’ve put Sara’s lines in italics. Text under cut.

Gin > History ...History? What should I talk about, woof? "Hm... Just an introduction would make me happy." Gin Ibushi from Heiwa Elementary Class 6-3! I'm 12 years old, meow! I take care of the animals, meow!! "Is school fun for you?" Hmm... It's not that fun 'cause of some guys I don't like, meow. But it's fun to meet friends, woof! We play games together, meooow! "Do you wear that outfit to school, too?" Nah, because people get mad. It's only when I'm at home, woof! ...It's kinda easier to talk when I wear this, meow. But I can't wear it to school, so I get uneasy, woof. So people at school tell me I'm obedient, woof! But that's wrong... meow... My aspirations are to live with animals all the time, meow! "Heehee... What kinds of animals?" I'm way into gators right now, meow! They're cute, wooooof!

> Physical Info I'm 138 centimeters and 35.5 kilograms, meow! That's 4 foot 6 inches and 78 pounds, woof! And I grew 2 centimeters at my last checkup, meow! "Your growth spurt and voice change must be coming up soon." Obviously, meow! I'm gonna be bigger than you, big sis Sara! "Ahaha, I'm sure you'll look really cool. I've got high hopes for you." Yeah! I'll sweep you off your feet, meow! Be grateful, woof! "Okay, let's make it a promise." Got it, meow! A promise for when I outgrow you, woof!

> Relatives My family's a double-income household, meow! I don't have siblings, so... It's lonely when I'm there by myself, meow... My mom's super nice even when she's exhausted, woof. No matter how late she gets home, she always makes dinner... And no matter how much I tell her not to overwork herself... "Do you like your mom?" I love her, meow! I'm worried how she's even busier lately, woof... "What about your dad?" I don't like some things... but I like him, meow. But I super hate when he's a drunkard who causes trouble, meow! It's embarrassing, woof! And he's always getting yelled at by mom and apologizing, so it's like he's got no dignity, woof. I don't wanna be that kind of pathetic grown-up, meooow! ...But I'm sure I won't, meow. 'Cause I'm not blood-related to dad, woof. "Huh...?" I heard he married mom when I was 2, meow! So that genetics stuff won't make me turn out like him, woof! "Is that so...?" Well, it's not like I hate dad, woof. It's true, meow!

> Death Game info I dunno, meow... It's scary, woof... What's dying feel like, meow...? "I... don't know either." I don't wanna never meet mom and dad again, meow... Big sis Sara... are you scared too, meow? "...Yeah, I am." "...Really scared..." .......... I'll definitely protect you, meow! Come see me anytime, woof! "Heehee... Thanks..."

> What he holds dear What I hold dear...? That's hard, meowww. Hm... It's gotta be mom and dad, meow! I'd be sad if they went away, woof! Ah! And the Mew-chan cushion I'm always with! They're super precious to me, meow! We're always together, so I forgot, meow! Sorry, Mew-chaaan! Woof... "Mew-chan is family to you too, huh?" That's right, meow! I got seriously mad when dad was gonna throw them away, meow! Unforgivable, woof! Get me a new one?! No way, meow!! You're a dummy, woof! I'm getting furious just remembering, woof! Mom should yell at him again, meowww!

Q-Taro > History I was raised up in an orphanage that's just a mite bit weird. Had people from all sortsa countries. I got a lotta dialects and stuff mixed in me... 'Course, they sent me to compulsory education up 'til high school. Can't thank the place enough. An' now, I'm a pro baseball player. ...Kiddos at the orphanage root for me, too. I wanna hurry up and show 'em... That even guys in situations like ours can get on a mound and have the stadium roarin'... Well, point is, I got no history yet. I'm about to be makin' some radiant records! Better get yer autographs early, Sara!

> Physical Info 6 foot 4 inches! 230 pounds! And lemme tell ya, it's all muscle, not fat! My position's pitcher, but I got confidence in my batting, base-running, and fielding! But my greatest weapon's my head. Gotta be smart to be a first-class athlete. "Is that how it is?" 'Course, I'm reflecting on the time I tore apart those puzzle rings by force, but...

> Relatives .......... "Is it hard to discuss?" Nah... there's just nothing to discuss. 'Cause I've never seen my birth parents' faces. Only place I knew was the orphanage. That's why... the people there were my moms and dads. Doesn't matter our blood relation. But, well... I do get thinkin' sometimes. What kinda people was I born to, and what kinda genetics do I got...? I started baseball jus' for fun, but... I've thought how if I pitch as a first-string pro... maybe my birth parents'll be watchin'. "...Do you want to meet them?" If we could talk and laugh it up, that'd be the best. All at ease, like "I'm havin' a great life"...

> Death Game info Huh, you're doin' this Death Game, right...? Knowin' me, I doubt I got even the slightest notion of dyin'. Hell, to a second-stringer, baseball's a Death Game with my life as a player on the line! But to do some self-analysis... I wonder if maybe I'll try an' win within the rules of the game... In the saga of a sports player, ya tend to forget about breakin' the rules. Maybe somebody like you, young and not knowin' fear, is more suited to findin' a path to survival. "...Is that so..." ...Sorry to make it sound like it ain't my business. I mean look, I'm an AI, y'know?

> What he holds dear Hold dear, huh... The caretakers at the orphanage, the kiddos... Of course, baseball, and... Myself... probably. I ain't gonna sugarcoat it. I don't wanna die, and I don't want the people I like to die. So I don't like to kick people... But if I gotta, I got the resolve. But I hate the kinda asshole who's got that as their first thought! ...Sorry for gettin' all fired up. Shouldn't have said that all cocky-like when you're involved in it... Don't you mind me.

Reko > History Err... I'mma super cool, 23-year-old singer-songwriter... Something like that? I've liked music since I was a kid. Classical, folk, heavy metal... I listened to all of it. Think around grade school, I found myself starting to compose and write lyrics. My instincts moved my body. That was a fun time... People praised me, and my parents were just plain happy... Once they started calling me a gifted kid... Then there started being more noise. Old bastards in the music industry wanting money... My pops craving the limelight... Before I knew it, I was making music that my heart wasn't in. In middle school, I rebelled. I was a rocker! I made tons of songs nobody even wanted! But even then, noise swarmed around me. Man, even my spirit had to give in. From high school on, all the spice was gone... Didn't even have anger... My activity dried up. I had tons of chances to be famous. But I smashed 'em all. I was totally just the industry's problem child. Everybody kept their distance from me. Once I couldn't even gather members, I borrowed Alice to make a band... Hahaha. Then two and a half years ago... He caused that incident... ... Well, at any rate, I am who I am now 'cause of that shitty past. Learn something from that, Sara?

> Physical Info 5 foot 7, 121 pounds. Pretty proud of my reflexes! And I can remember choreography in a snap, so... My memory's bangin'! Well... I'm not great at baseball and stuff... Hell, maybe I'm not great at anything that's got nothing to do with music. "By the way, what are your measurements?" N-No reason to tell you that, right?

> Relatives Family... Well, uh... ...I like my mom. Though she's a little weird. She's affectionate... and I cause her lots of trouble. Yeah, I gotta show my appreciation more. My old man... Well, he's a good guy... But let's say he gives in to temptation. He's not the most true to his convictions. I hated him for the longest time... But he's woken up now, and gone back to his plain and simple personality. After them is... Alice, huh. He's... what should I say? Why'd he do something like that...? A while after he got arrested... I left music Ahh... I just remembered. At the time, I wrote in my diary, which is rare... I wrote that music, the thing I'd poured my soul into all this time... suddenly felt like a cold series of notes... this inorganic thing. I wondered, was this how music sounded to people who didn't care about it...? ......... I always thought I didn't care about my brother, and never listened to him, but... Truth is... Maybe I was a little jealous of my normal brother. And acted that way out of spite. ... ...You shouldn't ever murder somebody...

> Death Game info Why do I gotta go through this shit...? Do we have anything in common...? I haven't got a clue...

> What she holds dear Believe it or not... I think family's important, right? I wanna show appreciation to my parents. But like, right now... The original me is being put through this Death Game, yeah? If she dies, she can't do... anything. So when you think of it like that, what's important's my own life, ain't it? "...What about your instruments?" Instruments...? "When I first met Reko... I heard she treasured her bongos." Bongos...? Well, sure. I'm playing bongos in my new band, but...

Nao Unlike the others, Nao's personal info comes as documents you can read wherever. > History Egasaki Elementary School ... Graduated Egasaki Middle School ... Graduated Third Kurotsuki Private High School ... Graduated Takesasa Private College of Art ... Currently 1st year Middle-class, born and raised by a very ordinary family. School grades below average. Focused on art starting in high school, and now seems interested in pursuing only that. Looks up to an art club advisor she met in high school, staying deeply intimate with him even post-graduation. Often seen going to the man's atelier. Doesn't appear to have many friends, but has a long association with most she does have, so it's suspected she values relationships. Also, refrains from going out at night, generally staying at home even on days off. No information known on what men she associates with.

> Physical info Nao Egokoro Age: 19 Gender: Female Height: 162cm (5'4") Weight: 55kg (121lb) Has little experience in sports and the like, limited to P.E. classes in compulsory education. Even so, her reflexes are poor. Perhaps due to her inclination toward art, she has very good eyesight. Her ability to remember a scene for a long time or recognize the individual flaps of a bird's wings is within reason, yet superb. Since much of this comes from practice, about the only thing that can be called a born talent, it is thought, is her passionate love for art. No other notable characteristics, although she has a large bust. (Sara will remark that the last line is harassment and tear it out)

> Relatives Born to a middle-class, extremely average family. Both parents are in good health. Having good relations with them, her situation is common yet happy. The father has been an office worker for 20 years. The mother has carried various jobs. No siblings. The father is under his wife's thumb. When they fight, it appears Nao Egokoro often defends her father to resolve the conflict.

> Death Game info Safely cleared the First Trial. Survived the first Main Game. Greatly affected mentally by death of her teacher. Took off with teacher's head and ran amok. This could be taken as mental weakness, but endurance of great shock could make her that much more mentally sturdy going forward.

> What she holds dear Most likely, Nao Egokoro treasures the artworks she has created, and brushes et al. received from her high school teacher. Due to minimal desire for money, she does not seem the type to want expensive things.