#also ei not giving him a name because she does not want to exert control over him
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I think people saying that ei discarded scara because he was too “fragile” or too “emotional” is a bit… meh for me. It feels like people are calling him… idk… too emotional?? Even if they dont mean it literally
Ei needed an unfeeling puppet to pursue her ideals of eternity, and upon scara’s creation she noticed that she had made a sentient being. And not wanting to destroy a creation that is far too human for what she needed him for, she put him to sleep in shakkei pavillion.
And thats the thing… he was too human for her ultimate goal. When he awakened due the unknown error, he misunderstood it as him being abandoned because he was not the prefect tool for her. Rather than realising that maybe, just maybe this might have been an act of mercy on him (i mean, look at what happened to furina. A human having to play god for 500 years is definitely no walk in the park), he saw it as ei throwing away a broken toy and removing the battery he needed to work for a different, better toy.
I think ei’s and scara’s dynamic is much more complex than just simply being “mother and son” (although it would be a bold-faced lie if i said i hated or didnt like that type of dynamic for them). I think scara likening his creator to a parent is very human of him, and exactly what ei didnt need. Although ei does call him “child” (at least… in cn) its more like a term of endearment rather than her genuinely seeing him as her child. But because ei needed a tool, scara also ends up seeing himself as nothing but a tool and an asset for others once he decides to abandon his human emotions after everything that happened in tatarasuna.
I have a lot of mixed feelings about them…. I do believe ei was not in the wrong for not wanting to have a very human puppet serve for her, but i also do not think ei is completely in the right for abandoning scara, as he is was created by her own hands the same way a mother would give life to a child (big fan of frankenstein and the question of “who was the true evil? Victor or the monster?”). Hmmm….
I want them to interact in the future 😮💨
#also ei not giving him a name because she does not want to exert control over him#and names and fate being interwined in genshin (according to 4.8)#hmm…. scratches my chin while i pretend to think very profound thoughts#scaramouche#wanderer genshin#scaramouche genshin impact#raiden ei#raiden ei genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact#sorry if something i say doesnt make a lot of sense..#english is not my first language#so i struggle a lot to articulate how i feel or think
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Keep Me Safe
A Bucky Barnes Story
Bucky Barnes x OC Character
2K Words
Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, Mention of Body Weight, Past Abuse/Trauma
General disclaimers before you read: This is not an imagine. Also, I'm not a doctor, but I do my best to make things as accurate as possible. Please take into account the trigger warnings. I imagine this after TFATWS events just because I feel like that Bucky has finally found himself enough to actually have a relationship. It doesn't contain any spoilers, but it may later on.
----
Bucky already has enough to deal with, but adding Mia to the mix might not be so bad.
----
"You're the only one who hasn't tried," Sam Wilson whispered adamantly.
"No," Bucky Barnes shook his head. "That's a bad idea, Sam, and you know it."
"Listen, you're the only one who could possibly understand what she's been through. At least try."
Bucky sighed. Damn Wilson for being so convincing and good with words. He glanced into the hospital room, seeing the pale girl hooked helplessly to the chirpy machinery. He cringed. He hated it all.
There was no telling what the girl had been through. She had been found while Sam was on a mission, and she continued to panic every single time someone entered the room. Nurses had to give her a mild sedative just to tend to her injuries.
Bucky had avoided the place like the plague. He wanted no part, but Sam was his friend, his only one at that, and he asked for his help, hoping he could relate to the girl in some way.
He entered the room, glancing back at Sam skeptically as nothing happened, but just like with the others, the frail girl woke up with a terrified gasp. Her chest heaved as she pulled at the wires, desperate to free herself, until she saw him.
She stilled at the sight of him, and Bucky couldn't help but approach curiously. She had the most stunning eyes, wide and painful. He couldn't imagine what they had seen.
"Easy," he murmured, holding his gloves hands out in front of him in a calming gesture. He was sure he could hear her heartheat with how frightened she was. "My name is Bucky. I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
He glanced back towards the door at Sam who was just out of view.
He eased himself in the chair by the girl's bed. She calmed significantly when his height wasn't as threatening.
She glanced at the glass of water, and at Bucky cautiously. He could tell she was in pain. He didn't know the extent of her injuries, but she had definitely exerted herself when she panicked.
He shifted to pick up the glass and she tensed. "I'm just helping," he whispered. "Here."
She attempted to take it from his grasp, but her shaking hands didn't have the grip, so he held the straw to her lips.
There was something about this girl. Something he couldn't put his finger on.
"I'm Mia," she said after a moment.
Bucky couldn't control the soft smile that pulled at his lips at the sound of her voice. The reaction was odd, something he had never felt.
At that moment, two nurses and a doctor knocked on the door, and entered without saying anything. Mia immediately began to freak out and he was not having it. For some reason, it pissed him off that they barged in on their moment.
"Bucky," she whimpered helplessly, reaching for him.
She wanted him? There was no way. He had just met her.
Either way, he stood to his feet, addressing the group. "There's too many of you. You need to leave. Can't you see you're causing her distress?"
"We saw she was awake. We just need to run some tests," the doctor said.
He felt the feather-like touch on his leather jacket, and a quiet, fearful whimper that sent lightning bolts of red, hot anger throughout his body. Why would they cause her more fear?
"You need to leave. I'll call you when it's time for you to come in," he said sternly, his gaze dark and protective. It was a strange feeling that surged through his chest. He felt something similar when he was fighting alongside Sam, but this felt more intimate.
"You don't have any authority to tell me what to do. What is your relationship to this girl?" the doctor inquired.
Bucky clenched his fists. He wanted to break the shit out of this man's nose.
Lucky for the arrogant doctor, Sam was able to diffuse the situation. He stayed in the entry of the door.
"Woah, what's going on in here? Dr. Smith, Bucky has been the only one to calm her. He's with me, and I have the authority. You need to do what he tells you, or we will just find a different person for the job."
Dr. Smith gave a huff, giving a glare to the angry man.
Sam gave a Buck a tense nod when the room was finally empty.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked Mia, who looked scared out of her mind, huddled in the corner of the bed closest to him.
A tear fell onto her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly.
"I'm okay," she finally said.
"No, you're not, and that's alright." Bucky sank back into his seat, watching her closely.
"You act like you understand," she relaxed slightly, and he noticed her palms were cut from where her fingernails had been digging into the skin.
He reached for her hand, and she accepted his touch, which was very surprising. He reached for a tissue to wipe away the blood.
"I do understand," he said it simply, wondering if there would be more questions, but it was quiet.
Mia's whole body ached. She could feel it now that she didn't feel defensive. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. Everything pulsed with pressure, and burned like fire.
"Thank you for getting them to leave," she whispered, laying back in the bed with a wince.
"You should see a doctor soon, but I'll make sure it isn't that one."
She hated doctors, especially that one that was just in there. They reminded her too much of the one's at - .
Mia shut down the thought, squeezing her eyes closed to stop the flow of painful, horrid memories.
"You should sleep," Bucky said, distracting her from her internal struggle.
She nodded, "Will you come back tomorrow?"
He came back everyday for the next few days. The pair didn't talk much, but they were comfortable with each other's company.
Mia even decided the doctor could finally come in. This one was a woman, and she had a warm personality, almost like a mother.
"You have some breaks that have healed improperly. We might have to reset those if possible. You're also covered in cuts and stab wounds of all kinds. You're dangerously underweight. We need to do a CT scan to know exactly what's going on." The doctor smiled gently, looking up from her clipboard. "Maybe you could tell Mr. Barnes what happened so we can get you proper help."
Mia gripped Bucky's gloved hand tightly, watching the doctor's every move.
The smile never faded from her kind face, "I'll have a nurse come in and prep you for that scan."
As soon as she was gone, Mia panicked once more. "No, no, Bucky. I don't want to go. I don't want to be scanned," she whimpered.
"Shh," he soothed, wiping away the tears with the pads of his covered thumb. "It doesn't hurt. I wouldn't let them hurt you."
A nurse knocked on the door. She set a cup on the table near the bed. "This is contrast so the doctor can see on the scan. Once you drink that, we should be good to go in about an hour. Do you have questions I can answer for you?"
Mia managed just the slightest shake of your head.
"Okay, call me when you finish that, or if you need me."
Whatever was in the cup was chalky and bitter, and hard to get down.
Bucky couldn't contain a chuckle at the adorable, disgusted faces Mia made.
"Don't laugh," Mia pouted, a twitch of a smile threatening to form. It was the first smile she had in a very long time. "You'll go with me, won't you?"
"Of course I will," he said. "I won't be able to go in the room with the scan, but I will be watching. I won't let anything happen to you."
Except, Mia didn't know that, and as soon as she was seperated from Bucky, she could feel the pressure in her chest. Her heart pounded viciously as she tried to force herself upright. Her ears were ringing so much that she couldn't hear or see what was going on around her. All she could see was the fleeting image of the metal table she had been forced to lay on, day in and day out. All the pain and screaming.
The memories that were trapping her began to disappear when she heard her name, the ringing becoming pesky background noise as Bucky's blurry image focused.
"Hey now," he said, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. He was no stranger to panic attacks. "You're okay, Mia."
She wasn't okay. The only time she was ever okay was when he was around, and that scared her too.
"If you do this, they'll know what's wrong and you can get out of here quicker."
"I hate this table," she cried, gripping his hands. "It's just like the one-"
"I know," Bucky whispered. He didn't know, but he would eventually. He needed to make sure the problem was taken care of. "I know it is, but you can do it. Nobody's going to hurt you."
Sam had been watching the exchange. He had been bringing Bucky some food when he had caught the scene.
"What's all this about?" Sam asked curiously. He had never seen the serious man so soft before. Normally, this would be a cause for some teasing, but this was a bit too sensitive for that.
"Don't ask," Bucky huffed, taking the bag of food from him. "Thank you. They only serve garbage here. She's not going to be able to put on any weight with that shit."
Sam eyed him curiously. "You've been with her for almost a week, so it is something, and I'll get it out of you eventually. You have me to thank for this."
"Yeah, whatever," he rolled his eyes. "I do need something from you. I need to know where she came from. I plan on taking a trip."
----
"Do you have to go?" Mia whispered sleepily. The hospital room was dark aside from a lamp. Usually, she was asleep when he left, but she had been extra clingy after the severe anxiety from the day. "I hate it when you leave."
That pulled at Bucky's heartstrings. He had developed strong feelings for the sweet brown haired girl.
"I'll even give you my bed," she said, her doe-like eyes catching the light.
He smiled, bending down closer, "You need to get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning."
"Please." She squished herself to oneside and patted the empty space.
Bucky sighed, "I can't. I have nightmares. I don't want to wake you. Plus, the bed is small. You're going to get hurt."
"I have nightmares, too. We can wake each other." She bit her lip and his resolve was slipping.
The fact was, he didn't want to leave. Not one bit. He wanted to be by her side all of the time.
"Alright, but if you need me to move or if I hurt you, you let me know." He laid beside of her, his ribs pressing harshly against the arms of the bed. It was not comfortable, not until Mia moved close.
He helped her adjust so she was half on top of him, giving him enough room to move over. She pressed her cheek to his chest with a content sigh.He felt content, too, like he finally belonged somewhere.
"Take the gloves off, Bucky. You can't sleep in those," she mumbled.
He hesitated. He didn't want her to be afraid of him. He didn't know what she knew of him, or what she had seen.
"You're the only person I'm not scared of," she continued gently.
He pulled off the flesh one first, and then slowly the vibranium one.
She smiled up at him, reaching for his metal fingers, "I knew this one felt different."
Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating and tickling Mia. He pulled the scratchy blanket over her tiny frame.
"Get some rest."
----
🥺🥺🥺 This was a long one but it's been circling in my head for a while. Part 2? Thoughts?
#bucky barnes#bucky imagine#marvel#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#sam wilson#tfatws imagine#tfatws#the winter soldier#the falcon and the winter soldier#sebastian stan#james buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x reader#marvel fanfic
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Calm yo’ tits - a present fic for ZekkKiray
Rating: E, ladynoir/Adrinette (post-reveal), 9143 words (by notepad++ count, 8886 according to Ao3, so one of you is LYING)
Read on Ao3
contains breastfeeding, lactation and mooificated large breasts.
Now, if you look at the tags (and the word count), and you know me, you might be understandably confused and worried that I might have been possessed, hacked by a Russian bot, or simply gone mad. The last part is very likely, but it is not the reason of this fic's existence.
The fic you are about to read is a present for my buddy, ZekkKiray, a vastly superior fic writer, who on one occasion quoted my works as inspiration for his, which solves once and for all the age-old philosophical dilemma, proving that something can indeed come from nothing.
I knew, to some extent, what his favourite kinks are, which sadly, were not exactly compatible with mine. So I needed to find a fandom we both like, and where I wouldn't have to worry too much about silly things like logic or common sense.
Enter "Miraculous Ladybug".
To put it simply, this fic is a bit of crack, I tried working some elements from my personal headcanons, and it doesn't break, assuming you don't push it too hard. More importantly, though, it's a birthday crack. Happy birthday, pal!
Also, this takes place after S3 finale.
================================
Sitting tensely in her chaise-longue, Marinette eyed her tutor and a temporary enemy with a keen eye. She has taken many exams in her young adult life, but this one might have been the most important so far. She concentrated on the small, levitating creature that flew that past her head, and when Tikki revealed a card, Marinette instantly replied.
- Zaggu, gnu kwami, the hero is Ram-page, and has ability to shapeshift terrain. Strong, but not too agile. Best pair with Pegasus for optimum efficiency. - she spoke quickly. - Yes! That's the last one! - Tikki cheered, flying to nuzzle Marinette's cheek.
For the past few days, Marinette has been extensively trying to fill in the shoes of Master Fu, as the new Miraculous guardian, and she has passed her self-imposed exam with flying colours, guessing each and every Kwami Tikki has tested her with.
- Well, if there are any challenging akumas, you will surely be able to know how to dispose of them! - Tikki cheered. - I sure hope so. - Marinette smiled - But now I have to study for actual exams, Tikki.
Marinette walked to her desk, took her college textbooks and opened them, her other hand already deep in the bowl of fruit snacks she prepared beforehand, knowing of the revision session ahead of her.
- Don't you want to study with Adrien? - Tikki flew by her head - Last time you said he's helped you a lot. - I wish. - Marinette sighed dreamily at the sound of her boyfriend's name - And he did, but...
Her cheeks suddenly became slightly deeper shade of burgundy, and she shied away from her Kwami. The mere thought of her boyfriend made her instantly forget about her duties, both as a college student and as a protector of Paris. She let herself indulge in a fantasy of what could happen if the two were put together in her room, and were given a choice between studying for a very boring exam, or doing anything else... However, Marinette had to exert some self-control, and with her friend acting like a second moral compass flying next to her, she had to abandon of her daydream.
- You know, this is quite an important exam, I don't want to be easily distracted and-Adrien!
She let out a gasp when her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it to answer at once. Tikki smiled, watching as her friend melts in her chair at the sound of Adrien's voice. Something told her she's not gonna do any revisions today.
===================
In his dark lair, Hakwmoth was listening. With closed eyes, he concentrated his powers to filter out hundreds of voices, trying to find the loudest and angriest, speaking with pure rage and despair.
He heard squabbling teenagers and forgot about them at once.
He heard depressed, neglected workers and didn't give them a second chance.
He heard a man crying, pitiful and heartbroken, because of his beloved pigeo-NO, NOT HIM AGAIN, THIRD SODDING TIME THIS MONTH.
Gabriel sighed and closed the aperture overlooking Paris. Finding a good source for akuma was sometimes surprisingly difficult. So many voices, so many possible candidates. And yet, again and again, he has failed.
Gabriel stepped down into the staircase that brought him down to his office, and was not surprised to find Nathalie waiting for him.
- Anything new for me, Nathalie? - he corrected his glasses - Just one call from the office of Coco Marocco. They asked for a call-back... - Nathalie paused and dropped her formal attitude - Gabriel, is everything alright?
She gently put her hand on his shoulder, and his body twitched in an instinct to brush it off. But he restrained himself, paused and took another deep breath.
- It's sometimes so... difficult. To find a good one... - I know.
He looked back at her and gave her a rare smile, saying much more than he could have at the time.
- I'll make the call, thank you.
Nathalie left his office, never taking her eye from him as she closed the door. Gabriel sat in his chair, leaned back and dialled the number.
"Hi there! You have reached the office of Coco Marocco, the finest brand of clothing this side of the equator. For English, press One. Für Deutsch drücken Sie bitte..."
Gabriel sighed and let the voice machine continue its job.
"... for business inquiries, press 7".
Gabriel quickly pressed the number, and was welcomed with the same, lifeless, mechanical voice.
"To access your account, please input the number..."
Without thinking, Gabriel typed the eleven-digit number on the tone dial, and waited for the next step.
"We apologise. In order to access your account, you need to speak the numbers", the voicemail said.
A small vein twitched on Gabriel's forehead. He spoke each digit, loud and clear, hoping beyond hope it registered properly.
"We apologise, please say the number again."
It took him two more tries to reach the next step, and he finally heard the familiar waiting music. The second it stopped, he started speaking, but he was met with even more disappointing reality.
"Hi there! Thank you for your patience. Your call is incredibly important to us. Your number in the waiting queue is... FOURTEEN".
The mobile phone crashed and broke into dozens of pieces when Gabriel tossed it across the room, careful not to destroy the painting of his wife that hid the entrance to his observatory.
- Why does it have to be so difficult? - he grumbled - Bunch of incompetent buffoons, making the easiest of things so much more difficult-
And then, a sudden burst of inspiration, privileged only to visionaries of his calibre, has dawned on him. He quickly got up and dashed to the elevator, not noticing that the crash alerted Nathalie to peek into his room, as he was too eager to bring his plan into motion as soon as possible.
When he stepped into his lair, he was Hawkmoth again, and he knew exactly what to listen for.
=====================
The glorious weather outside taunted Nino to end his revisions early and go to the nearest park to bathe in the warm sunshine, but alas, he had to spend his day in the near-empty university library. Unable to concentrate, he took his phone and launched the app to check if the last paper has been graded, but was left with a disappointing, never-ending loading screen. He looked at the only other person in the room, sitting by the computer in the corner, and decided to break the ear-splitting silence.
- Hey dude, are the uni servers down, or something? - And when were they not? - the chubby student replied - The app constantly crashes, we can't even check anything, so I'm just loafing around.
Nino gave him - or rather his large neck - a curious look and decided to end the conversation swiftly.
- Well, at least tumblog works... - If only - his interlocutor replied, much to Nino's chagrin, without even taking his headset off - Ugh, why did they change the colour of the background again? - You okay, dude? - he looked at his freckled face, and the man gave him a contemptuous look. - Yeah. But you seem to be okay with using this sub-par version - he glanced at his phone.
Nino raised his eyebrow and glanced at his phone.
- What's wrong with that?
The man groaned.
- Ugh, where do I start? The app also never works, they haven't implemented half the features of the desktop version, they still show sponsored messages, I mean, not for me, I hacked them myself away, and the options, can you believe they dared to change the font, it's so unreadable now...
He took a sip of a drink he definitely shouldn't have been allowed to bring into the library.
- But the site is so full of idiots now, it's not even worth going there anymore. Can you believe there are people defending the new Flunkies game? They've added cut content DLCs now! All of them sheep, they will buy whatever you throw at them, and...
The guy continued to complain into what was now a Nino-shaped void, as he left quietly a minute earlier, slightly afraid that arrogance might be catching.
And he wouldn't be exactly wrong...
If Nino stayed, he would have noticed that the same window that finally tempted him to walk outside with its glorious view, became also a gateway for a dark-purple moth that landed on the student's headset, turning it into equally sinister shade.
Suddenly, the student's complaints, spoken into nothingness, fell on listening ears, and a voice spoke in his head.
- Anton, I am Hakwmoth. I have heard your eloquent delivery, and I must say, you are quite right. - I know I am - Anton replied, without missing a beat. - There are so many little things wrong with this world, and only you know how to fix them... - Yes, I wrote it all on my blog, but now they changed the tagging system, and they don't even filter by the- - The point is - Hakwmoth interrupted him - As all geniuses in history, you are underestimated. Like the Cassandra of the Greek myths, people do not believe you, despite you speaking the truth. But I can change that.
For the first time in rather long time, Anton listened, instead of talking.
- I can give you a platform to speak your wisdom, better than any social media would ever offer. I can give you the voice, and I can give you the chance to make others hear you... And to sway their views at once... - You-you can do that? - Anton asked excitedly, though remaining in his slumped pose. - Oh, yes. - Hakwmoth replied with an oily, greedy voice - All I need in return is for you to bring me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi. They are wrong anyway, so they don't deserve them... Embrace my akuma, and rise-
Gabriel paused. He expected to feel something by now, but instead, he heard a quiet tapping.
- Are-are you typing? - Well, duh, someone is wrong on the Internet. - I was going to give you powers to do all of that a hundred times faster... - Gabriel spoke, unable to believe what he heard. - Okay, I'm done. - Anton spoke - What were you saying?
Stopping the urge to find a new herald of his will, Hakwmoth stomped in place and let the power flow through him and into his new apprentice, transforming his somewhat shaggy clothes into regal, red-and-golden attire. The chair he was sitting in merged into his body, becoming a golden, ornamented throne. And finally, the device around his head became a golden, conical-shaped object, perfectly suited for his new puppet, already fitting well in his hand.
- As I was saying... Rise, Echo Chamberlain, and correct the world, for only you know how. - I will! - the new villain spoke into his megaphone and flew out the library in his levitating chair, smashing the window to pieces.
========================
- Adrien!
Marinette jumped the last few stairs of her house and nearly tripped, but fortunately for her, she landed exactly where she wanted - in the arms of her boyfriend, meeting his lips a minute or so earlier than she planned. She smelled his trademark cologne, singed with his name, and she positively melted against his chest, blissfully forgetting about everything around her, until her mother's grunt brought her back to reality.
She jumped to her feet, fixed her hair and waved her parents goodbye, as the two walked outside for a stroll on the sunny day, with just a chance of studying in the park, in between kissing.
- How was the journey? - Marinette asked, eager to learn all about his latest business trip. - Well, nothing too out of the ordinary. I mean, for me. - he quickly added, afraid he sounded too immodest - I wish I could have brought you with me. - No biggie. I know how strict your father can be... - she leaned against his shoulder. - Hey, look, we should get some ice-cream!
Marinette eagerly pulled Adrien towards the famous André's ice-cream stand that now was parked underneath an old arch, and, predictably, has already amassed a small crowd, hungry for some cold refreshment. But as the two approached them, they heard an angry voice, dissonating with the rest.
- What do you mean you don't have chocolate chips? What kind of ice cream vendor are you? - a young woman was arguing with the poor ice-cream maker, who reacted to her anger with his usual jovial, kind behaviour. - Ah, but mademoiselle, I have other toppings, perfect for you! Brandied cherries! Candied walnuts! Peanut brittle! Or even... - he paused, before saying the next word with less enthusiasm in his voice - Sprinkles... - But I want my chocolate chips! - Excuse me. - Marinette gently addressed the angry woman - Don't you think you act a bit selfish? I'm certain André has been working so hard to bring us these phenomenal treats, it's not his fault he ran out of some of the ingredients... - Yeah - Adrien added quickly - And I think you will find some of these are as good as the one you crave, I can attest to that. - Plus, there are a lot of people waiting...
A shared murmur spread behind her, with people nodding, agreeing to Marinette and Adrien's polite reasoning. The woman sighed, and was about to accept the lesser version of her favourite dessert, but the next words she spoke left her mouth with a volume of hundreds of people.
- I WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!
Adrien and Marinette instinctively put their hands over the ears, and as they watched in horror, they might have just saved their sanity. Thre eyes of the people surrounding them glew with red tint, and the same people that a moment ago scoffed at the picky woman, now shouted with her.
- WE WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!
The two shared a concerned look, and they frantically looked around, knowing full-well it was a work of an akuma. Adrien spotted him first, a bizarre, red-and-gold man flying in his throne above their heads. They gave each other a nod and ran as far away from the crowd.
- André, run, it's an akuma! - Marinette cried, but it was too late.
The kind man now was roaring with them, demanding his own ice cream booth to give him chocolate chips, smashing it with his bare hands. Adrien and Marinette hid in an alleyway, and as soon as they could catch breath, their Kwami escaped their pockets, ready to transform them.
Two bright flashes of light later, Ladybug and Chat Noir escaped the same alleyway, following new source of cries and shouts. Ladybug shoot her yo-yo to climb onto the nearest rooftop, while Chat accompanied her onto his magical baton that propelled him into the air, so they could level with Hawkmoth's new puppet.
- You there! - Marinette shouted, gaining his attention - What are you doing to these innocent people? - And whatever it is, we are here to stop you!
The akumatised man laughed and rolled in the air in his throne.
- I am the Echo Chamberlain, and I have done nothing to them! I merely gave them the same voice I have. How dare these ice cream makers don't have the perfect ice-cream I want!
He grabbed his megaphone and spoke into it, emitting once more a deafening cry that reverberated amongst the buildings.
- People of Paris! Throw away your chains! Go to the barricades! And demand the ice-cream you want! Ha-ha-ha!
At once, the people beneath them, scared and cowering, stood up and rushed to the shops, big and small alike, chanting the same familiar phrase for their now-beloved condiment.
- You fool! - a sudden voice rang in Anton's head - I gave you the voice so you can get me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi! - Oh, right. - he took his megaphone again - But before that, get me Ladybug and Chat Noir! They took all the chocolate chips!
Echo Chamberlain flew onto his throne, leaving Ladybug and Chat Noir with the horde of people, that now began surrounding them with his single command. The two thought that they were safe on the rooftop of the building, but the angry people began climbing each other, forming human ladders, and in matter of seconds, the two had to escape in the same way they got there to begin with.
- He's using some sort of mind control! - Ladybug spoke, when they landed on slightly taller building, though they've already heard the clatter of broken glass beneath them. - The akuma must be in his megaphone. - Chat added - Also, I never thought people like chocolate chips so much. - I don't think they do. I think he likes it, and so he makes other people like the same thing.
Ladybug took a cautious look down, spotting some people rushing away from the angry mob.
- And I think he needs to target like-minded people. Or at least those that share some form of opinion with him... - she pondered. - Great observation, but may I add one? Duck!
Chat Noir pressed Ladybug's head down as a carton full of ice-cream cones flew right through the space once occupied by her head. The two rushed to their feet again, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, escaping the swarm of zombiefied people.
- Maybe there will be fewer of them here... - Chat spoke, but he was immediately proven wrong by a sudden voice behind him. - Oh, do you think ice-cream toppings is the only thing that makes people angry?
Echo Chamberlain arose from behind the building, already aiming his megaphone at the ventilation shaft.
- How about... Mobile chargers! Don't you hate how they always get lost and get tangled?
The powerful sound wave reverberated throughout the building, and the small rooftop door quaked when a small mob of residents rushed to the top, with said chargers in their hands, ready to strangle the two. Ladybug tried sniping a few of them with precise shots of her yo-yo, but the crowd was too dense.
- My lady!
Chat Noir grabbed her and propelled themselves off the building, landing in the vicinity of the same park they were meant to not-study in. But as they landed, they were already surrounded by more hypnotised civilians, this time complaining en-masse about mosquitoes.
- There's too many of them! - Ladybug shouted, jumping onto the nearby lamp post and then onto the tree. - I mean, they aren't exactly wrong, mosquitoes are horrible... - Chat! - Ladybug scolded him - That's the problem, he is making these people aware of all those small, insignificant problems of their lives. - But everyone has those!
Chat Noir's statement suddenly sounded ominously, as the sea of multicoloured people of every race, size and age surrounded them. Each person beneath them complained about something, creating a powerful choir of cacophony.
- We need... we need something to calm them down all at once...
Marinette looked around, and suddenly, as she spotted André's destroyed ice-cream stand, she saw the bell he would rang to alert Parisians of his presence, and a smile appeared on her face.
- I know what to do! - she cheered - Follow me!
The two escaped the tree just as if it was bout to be uprooted, and the two traversed the Paris to land on an even more familiar balcony.
- Don't peek, I'm gonna change my clothes. - she gave him a quick peck as she opened the hatch door to her apartment. - I'd never think of doing that. - Chat grinned, prepared his baton and jumped to the ground to defend the Dupain-Cheng bakery from the horde of people.
Once she was inside, Marinette quickly opened her supplies cabinet. Under the multitude of sewing accessories lied the hidden, oval-shaped red-and-black object that once looked like an ancient music box. The new guardian took it and gently tapped the black spots on the Miraculous Box, and under her touch, the small drawers began opening, one by one, like petals of a flower, revealing the multitude of Miraculi inside. Each of the intricate jewels glowed with a magical light of its own, as if to invite Marinette to try them, but she already knew which one to pick.
She took a small, circular Miraculous and spoke its Kwami name, illuminating her room with calming, white light, as the small, furry creature appeared in front of her.
- There's no time to explain, I need your help. Tikki, unify!
=====================
Meanwhile, Chat was getting more and more surrounded, forcing him to jump higher and higher, hoping the crowd would follow him and not Ladybug, trying his might to defend himself with his baton from the hypnotised masses, chanting their many inconsequential complaints that made them so strong.
- The prequels suck! - The sequels suck too! - Everything sucks!
As the mob was about to grab Chat, suddenly, he felt a familiar grip around his torso and his stomach did a somersault when he was dragged upwards, away from the crowd, as Ladybug reeled him on her yo-yo as if he was a fish.
- Thanks Ladybug, your timing is impecca-
Words got stuck in Adrien's mouth as he turned his head to meet his rescuer. At first, he wasn't sure it was Ladybug, but he recognised her yo-yo and her charming smile, though they were the only familiar element of her looks that remained. Only half of her original red could be found on her new costume, and the tidy, trademark polka-dots merged into black blots against white-brown rest of her costume. But it was the accessories she was wearing that truly befuddled Chat and forced him to pursue his curiosity, even if he was to be proverbially killed for it.
- My lady...! - Adrien stopped mid-way, taking another long look at Marinette - You... Your choice of fighting style is always impawssible to predict, but... Really, a cow? - What?
Marinette looked at herself, turning in place, as if to check if she's made a mistake choosing a Kwami to merge with, but once she ascertained herself, she shot him with a stern look.
- I'm not a cow. - she spoke quickly - The Kwami, whose powers I'm borrowing, is a yak! From Tibet! - Er, my lady - Chat raised his hands in defence, trying not to stare too long at the horns that adorned her head now - With all the respect, half of your costume is white with black spots, you have a ring in your nose, and you wear a cowbell around your neck... - IT'S NOT A COWBELL! - Marinette stomped in place - It's a Tibetan singing bowl, used for meditation. The Kwami told me so. - And what was its name?
With some hesitation, Marinette looked at Chat, whose lips curled into a sly smile, somehow foreseeing the answer and using every ounce of his intelligence to prepare a comeback.
- Lhamuu... - she whispered. - Lha...MOO - Chat articulated, his smug grin becoming unbearable to look at. - Oh, shut up! - Marinette yelled - We have an Akuma to defeat. - You're right, we should get mooving.
The superheroes nodded and jumped once more into the crowd of people under the super-villain's control, a plan already forming in their heads.
===========
- What's this?
In his observatory, Hawkmoth looked through his puppet's eyes at a sight he most certainly didn't expect.
- Ladybug... is a cow. - he muttered, unable to believe his borrowed sight. - Actually, it's a yak, you can tell by the horns, they are quite common in Asia and- - Never mind that! - Hawkmoth interrupted him - Ladybug has acquired a new power! That means she's wearing two Miraculi! Get them at once! - Is it "Miraculi" or "Miraculouses"? Or does this word even have plural form? - Anton pondered - I think there was a thread on Ladyblog about it, and- - THEY CAN BE CALLED "CROISSANTS" FOR WHAT I CARE, JUST GRAB THE JEWELS! - On it.
==========
Anton's throne flew closer to the two superheroes, who kept fighting the overwhelming crowd of people. Though banking on disappointment from recent block-busters wasn't unreasonable, he decided to play on even more delicate strings. He took his megaphone and spoke one word that electrified the masses and angered them all.
- Don't you just hate... CAPTCHA?... yes, it's because of Ladybug and Chat Noir you have to solve those stupid riddles, finding fire hydrants and whatnot! Destroy them!
At once, the mass of people acting, ironically, like radio-controlled robots, roared with pure hatred and began swarming towards them climbing onto balconies, just so they can get to them. Chat took a step backwards, knowing the crowd there was equally dense. But just as he was about to secure Ladybug, she did something utterly unpredictable.
With grace and skill only she possessed, SHE jumped off the rooftop, right into the horde of people, ready to tear her apart.
- My lady!
From the rooftop, Chat watched as Ladybug landed on the plaza, and let the crowd of people encircle and approach her from every side. And though he was afraid, he also had faith in her, strengthen only by her charming smile and a wink she sent him, while the shouting mob surrounded her.
- It's time to use... The Bell of Clarity!
Marinette touched the bowl affixed to her neck, enveloping herself in a delicate, yellow light, grabbed what looked like a ring in her nose and swiftly pulled it, revealing it to have two small balls on each side, and twirled around, ending with a stylish, victorious pose. With her new weapon in hands, she reached it, and gently stroke the bowl with the metallic ring, letting its vibration travel towards their target.
A powerful sound wave surrounded her, spreading in all directions, engulfing more and more of space, finally reaching the ears of the hypnotised people. When the note rang in their minds, they stopped, appearing confused and disoriented, as they suddenly lost the connection to their master's words.
- No, no, get them, you idiots! - Echo Chamberlain shouted through his megaphone.
Marinette stroke the bowl a second time, producing a more melodious tune. The crowd of like-minded zombies became even less coordinated, much to the supervillain's anger. And when she gently began moving the ornamented metal ring across the bowl's edge, instead of producing a single note, it began singing, its soothing melody finally dispelling the charm put on the people.
- No! You have to listen to me! I am right! - Anton took his megaphone and began speaking into it again - The games now suck! The-there are micro-transactions everywhere! The-the toilet paper! It's never turned the right way around! There is product placement in movies!
But no matter how many annoying details about life - or rather lack of it - he spoke of, the crowd remained calm and peaceful, unified with the sound of Ladybug's bell, that spread across the city each time she hit it.
And just when he was about to think of some new annoyance, something hit him from behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Chat Noir, wrestling with him, his baton already locking his arms from reaching his tool of control.
- It's time to dethrone your highness! Now, Ladybug!
At once, Ladybug shoot the yo-yo, grabbing the megaphone, while Chat and Echo Chamberlain wobbled in the air, each trying to overpower the other. But as soon as Ladybug got her hands onto his prized tool of control, it was over. She broke it in half, releasing the purple akuma, she then gracefully caught with the same yo-yo.
- By bye, little butterfly... - she spoke to the purified Akuma, watching it, as it flew away. - Miraculous Ladybug!
A storm of light, radiating from her engulfed the city, repairing the damages caused by the entitled mobs. As for the Echo Chamberlain, he found himself in his regular, not-levitating chair, and only thanks to Chat Noir's strength he didn't hit the ground.
- I believe it was yours. - Ladybug handed him the headset. - Y-yeah... - Anton stuttered. - Uh, Ladybug, I... - That's okay, Anton. - she spoke calmly - We all get upset sometimes, and we all think we have all the answers. - But maybe it's better to walk outside every once in a while, and, say, have some ice cream? Regardless of toppings? - Chat Noir added, giving him equally warm smile. - Y-yeah...
The two watched as the man waddled away, pondering what his behaviour has done. Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other and bumped their fist with a cheerful "Pound it!".
- So, the Bell of Clarity, eh? - Chat Noir leaned against the wall, watching as his partner affixes her new accessory once more to her collar. - Jealous of my new toy, kitty? - Ladybug shot him with a mischievous grin - It has quite powerful properties, I should tell you about that some time, since I've been studying all the Kwamis and... - Nah, I was just pondering the name...
Marinette eyed him suspiciously, noticing the familiar smirk appearing on his face, about to turn into a full, unashamed grin, but when she did that, it was too late, as words already left his mouth.
- It's "Bell of Clarity"...or Clara-bell, if you will.
The Tibetan singing bowl made one last, long, pronounced note as Marinette struck Chat's head with it, putting an end to his jokes and another successful mission.
===========================
Another tune, this one of pure sorrow filled the air, as Hawkmoth roared in anger, his voice echoing in his evil lair atop the Agreste mansion.
- Preposterous! I have been defeated by a superheroine dressed like a cow! - I think she was a yak, Gabriel. - Nathalie added - SHE HAD A RING IN HER NOSE! - he yelled, slamming his fists against the floor, as he collapsed onto his knees - I HAVE A HEADACHE!
==================
Far away from Hawkmoth's prying eyes, as well as many security cameras they've learned to evade, two superheroes were celebrating another victory in a way that became almost a tradition for them. There was a time when Marinette would be utterly shocked at the mere thought of kissing in public, let alone exposing herself there, but the years of serving as a protector of Paris has changed her mind. At some point, she started treating entirety of Paris as her home, with every dark alleyway and rows of chimney that hid them from the rest of the world, and with that notion came the desire to express herself and her love in the open air. And it certainly helped that her boyfriend was a horny tomcat.
Though she would have preferred if Chat pushed her against her soft bed, she didn't mind the cold, sturdy surface of a building they were kissing against. With his relentless, but delicate caresses, there was no place on Earth where they wouldn't be feeling comfortable, and something told her she would be soon melting in his arms or underneath his body.
And Chat was especially meticulous today, as he wanted to make sure that he'd cover every millimetre of her new costume and find out if her new alter-ego changed something with her preferences regarding making love.
- Chat... - Marinette moaned and curled her toes, tightening her legs' grip around his body. - I've had you as a Ladybug...
Chat pressed her against the wall, his hand already on her crotch, and his fingers dug through the latex costume that parted underneath his gentle, yet steady caresses.
- ...then as a mouse...
She let out a short squeak, almost mimicking her timid, Multimouse persona, as he continued undressing her using his claws and teeth.
- Then as a Rena Rouge... do you remember that? - How-How could I forget? - Marinette gasped, her hands sliding up and down his slim, but muscular body - Especially since Alya was filming us...
Chat let out a deep purr of approval, letting his lips and tongue take action, as he leaned against the skin on her neck. And while he was busy peppering her skin with kisses, Marinette decided to continue diving into their memories, perhaps just so she won't have to moan in anticipation of her lover's next, carefully planned move.
- And-And do you remember when Mister Bug used Lady Noire's face? I've never thought he would be so rough... - Mhm, most certainly... - Chat purred, nibbling on her ear, both actions making Marinette's skin shiver - Turned out white goes very well with your the black mask... And, well, rest of the costume too... - Naughty kitten... - And now, I'm gonna be with you as a... - Chat paused, looking up at his lover - ...a yak. - It's fine, you can say I'm a cow. - Marinette rolled her eyes, leaning in for a kiss. - And how should I call you? - Figured you would kiss first and ask names second...
She spoke those words in somewhat croaky voice, after Chat's kiss successfully left her breathless. She tightened her grip on him and looked him in the eye, seeing the familiar, fiery spark of lust that could lead them on a predictable route.
- Yin Yak - she answered - That's the name of that-that superheroine... - Marinette paused, trying to silence herself from another surge of pleasure building up in her loins. - So, would you be Lady-yak? - Chat kissed her breasts through her costume, yearning to feel her costume splitting apart - Or Yin-bug? I have to say, I am purrplexed and confused...
Marinette cupped his face and brought his face millimetres away from hers, just so her next words could firmly root themselves into his mind.
- I will tell you how I want to be called. - she paused and without losing a bit answered - Yours.
With her words acting like a spell, Chat Noir smiled and in a single move tossed her into the air, and caught her with his arms again, letting her legs spread. And as he did so, a rip in her costume appeared, under Chat's most delicate of touches, as a final proof of Marinette's consent and her yearning for her lover. Marinette yelped when his fingers brushed the now-exposed skin underneath her partially-torn costume. In response, she yanked his bell and slid it down, finally laying her eyes on his naked, alluring body.
- It's so much easier for you... - Are you complaining about an incredibly minor inconvenience? - Chat paused - Be careful, or you're gonna get akumatised too...
They giggled and closed their eyes, preparing for a kiss, but as their lips were about to meet, Chat found that something began pushing them away. And when the two looked down, they couldn't help but gasp at the sudden development happening right in front of them.
- What the-?!
Both Adrien and Marinette stared at her chest, or more precisely, her breasts that sprung from beneath her costume, ripping it completely and showing properly how enlarged they've become. And neither of them could tell which one was more surprised of the sight that greeted them. Her usually perky, medium-sized breasts now felt like two balloons that became inflated the moment Chat parted the way of her costume, though despite their size they seemed to defy laws of physics, never truly succumbing to gravity. As if in disbelief, Chat gently cupped them, and only under his touch, Marinette could feel how much they have grown, and that they were in fact still parts of her caresses-starved body.
- They-they are huge! - Marinette gasped, stating the obvious. - Indeed they are... - Adrien licked his lips - I have to admit, I am enjoying your new superhero form more and more...
Marinette gasped when she felt Chat's breath around her nipple, even more sensitive than usual, as his lips closed around the nub, a lot bigger and more pronounced now. And while his tongue lapped around her areola, his left hand caressed her other breast, exploring the new, vast territory he was going to conquer.
As Marinette whimpered under Chat's caresses, he moved from left side of her enlarged bosom to the other, finally taking a dive between them, licking the alluring valley between the voluptuous,breasts on both sides of his face. He looked up, meeting Ladybug's widened eyes, seeing the mixture of pleasure and lingering shock in them. He gave her one final kiss, and asked sheepishly.
- My lady, I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? - Can you hear me complain? - Marinette smirked - I have no idea what happened, but keep your mouth busy, kitty.
She gently pushed his head back between her huge bosom that almost engulfed Chat's head. Suddenly, she felt his kisses everywhere across her sensitive skin, causing her to moan without any care. They were still hidden, at least partially, since she fully expected her breasts might now expand like a portable raft and take the entire space of the rooftop.
Of course, she knew why this happened. Though Chat was joking, her Kwami certainly had a few bovine traits, and her arousal must have accentuated those even more, just like Chat's claws could tear through her otherwise indestructible suit as if it was papier-mâché when his animalistic needs got over him.
As her kisses became more and more ravenous, her legs slowly gave up, and that gave Chat a chance to sneak his arms underneath her back and raise her leg up, just so his access to her dripping sex could be easier. With her left leg on his shoulder, his fingers continued the delicate dance against her pussy, while his tongue lapped at the skin around her nipples.
- Cha-Chat!
Marinette threw her head back, hoping her lover would bring her to her climax soon, and when Chat closed his lips around her nipple once more, just to contain his scream, she felt something new. An exhilarating, electrifying surge rushed through her, and at the same moment as Chat's eyes opened wide, while his fingering slowed down, though with his new discovery, she didn't exactly blame him.
Once he understood what was happening, Chat smiled and doubled his efforts, suckling on her teat, just so he could taste the delicious, sweet milk she began producing.
- My lady, you are... full of surprises... - he spoke, once he took a healthy gulp of her essence, watching as it dripped onto her large breasts.
To her bewilderment, when Chat brought his lips back to her nipple and continued suckling her milk, she felt the pleasure rising again, and with the newly found source of enjoyment, Marinette realised she couldn't think straight, especially when Chat resumed the moves of his hand again, spreading her folds.
But this time, as his muscular body came in contact with hers, it became obvious he was eager for more than simple finger play. He moved his hips in tune of her moans, sliding his exposed cock along her folds, eager to her her begging. And sure enough, once his name left her lips, he dived between her wet, soaking folds, just like his head dived into the valley of her breasts, equally leaking from anticipation.
Marinette let out another prolonged moan. Chat often made love to her this way, pressing her against walls, often just meters away from busy streets, but never before has her body changed. And now, to each of Chat's thrusts, her enlarged breasts reacted accordingly, bouncing up and down around Chat's face, though every once in a while her lover's thirst for her milk caused one of her mounds - or rather mountains - to remain in place, while he feasted on the liquid ambrosia she kept producing.
Adrien thought that he might have harder time keeping his lover up, and bouncing her with the extra baggage, but it turned out that the opposite was true. She felt lighter, giving him chance to exert a bit more pressure and dominance over his lover, much to her enjoyment. Ladybug dug her fingernails into Chat's shoulders, pushing him against the cushions of her bosom, letting his entire face stimulate her much larger and more sensitive area.
With each kiss Chat placed around her nipples came another deep thrust, reaching further and further into her yearning sex that coated his cock with her juices, only helping his cause of sliding as far as possible. And with that storm of sensation, it came as no surprise to Marinette that her mind slowly started going blank, and she began chanting Chat's name like a mantra, begging him to help her reach the peak he promised her, hearing only his grunts in return.
Their shared orgasm made their joined bodies shudder; at the same time, walls of Marinette's pussy contracted, desperate to contain Chat inside her, coating his crotch with more and more of her juices; then the torrential jets of his warm seed shot up her sex, right against her womb, filling her to the brim. And then, just when she thought she was finished, she felt a new form of warmth on her chest, when milk began spurted from her breasts, though the stream quickly found its way to Chat's mouth.
With each of Chat's final, weakening thrusts, the effects began anew, forcing her lover to switch suckling on her nipples, thirsty for her nectar, as if to use it to replenish his essence he kept flooding her with. But as their juices were leaking out, so was their strength, and even Chat's muscles had to give up at some point.
The two collapsed on the rooftop, still hidden by the shadows of the construction scaffolding, though at this point, Marinette truly didn't care if their love making has been heard, or observed by anyone; with her enormous breasts people might think it's some sort of stunt anyway. Her lips found Chat's and she tasted a new flavour, a sweet one that sent shivers down her spine, when she realised what it was, and she understood at once why Chat was so desperate to milk her.
The same flurry of kisses that drove her to her peak didn't stop, as Chat made sure to pepper her breasts with as many of those as possible, at the same time giving her ample time to recover from her equally explosive orgasm.
And as her mind, hazed by pleasure, slowly returned to reality, a new plan formed in her head, and with a quick, but difficult to pull off maneuver - a drawback of the new addition to her body - she rolled and pinned Chat to the ground, much to his surprise.
- My lady?
Chat's ears perked up when he saw her move along his naked body, leaving a trail of kisses as well as her milk along it. And when she reached her destination, she shot him with a mischievous, sly smirk that would have turn his legs to jelly if he wasn't downed already.
Her delicate fingers closed around his half-lips cock, bringing his sensitive tip to her mouth, and as her lips brushed his skin, it twitched satisfyingly in her hand, signalling he was ready again.
- You just lay there, kitty, and let me take care of you...
Marinette's soft, velvety voice, spiked with just a trace of lust worked its magic on Chat right away. Though Marinette might have been surprised by the sudden changes to her body, the superheroine adapted to them at once and decided to put them to good use. Her voluptuous, wobbly breasts engulfed Chat's hard cock, as Marinette proceeded to give her first tit-job of her life, given that now she had proper equipment for it.
As Chat got lost in her ample bosom, he threw his head back, filling the air around them with low purr of delight, followed by prolonged moan when Ladybug's mouth met with his cock's head upon her first bob. it was equally fascinating for Marinette to watch as Chat's length is enveloped by her breasts, and how she can now stimulate far more of him than when her mounds were small an perky.
She had to keep an eye on his legs that twitched with every few seconds in response to her caresses. Chat's claws closed around the nearest edges, after frantically trying to find one to push away his oncoming climax, and his slim, but muscular torso arched from time to time, in sync with Marinette pushing her massive breasts up and down.
To make things a bit varied, she slowed down her moves, replacing them with a bit of her tongue-work, much to Chat's delight. Marinette could distinguish her name being muttered by her lover, begging her to finish her love torture, but the superheroine had none of that. While she was certain Chat would love nothing more than jump to his knees and face-fuck her, she wanted to prolong his pleasure as much as she could, knowing full well of the building and boiling climax in his loins.
As her tongue ran around his head, Marinette had to steer away to taste her own body, still covered with traces of milk she was leaking, and when the same tongue returned to his tool, Chat moaned again, feeling the liquid she was mixing with his pre-cum, almost as if he could taste it again. Once more he was privileged to see how the once-shy superheroine pushed her limit of perversion with a kink neither of them expected to enjoy an hour earlier.
And it was that knowledge (combined with her dedication to bring Chat to climax, as she started bobbing her breasts up and down again), that drove Chat to his edge, turning his moans incomprehensible begging only Marinette could understand and reply to. She waited until Chat's eyes would meet her again, and spoke to him taking breaks from kissing his swollen tip ready to burst.
- You, kitty - she started - You like my milk... But I...
She pressed her hands against her breasts, wanting to completely envelop Chat's cock between her massive breasts.
- ...I prefer cream.
A loud, yet weak cry of defeat escaped Chat's lips at the same time as first rope of cum flew from his swollen tip, landing straight across Ladybug's face, forcing her to close her eyes momentarily, though she opened them a second later, just so she can marvel at Chat's virility.
Just as second rope of cum was about to decorate her face, Marinette opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, inviting Chat to change his aim, though with his cock still engulfed by her breasts, she was much in control of the trajectory, and with some difficulties, she has managed to fill her mouth with the thick, sticky seed, getting the first sniff of the pungent and aggressive, but alluring taste and smell of her lover.
Three more streams of his cum landed in Marinette's lips, before her treatment has emptied Chat's balls, and the heroine could swallow the veritable pool of Chat's cream sitting in her mouth. She did it without breaking the eye contact with him, making sure he'd hear the guttural, gulping noises as his essence travelled down her throat, his warmth, taste and smell lingering far longer thanks to its consistency. He must have been saving for days...
But that wasn't complete end of Chat's climax; long after he stopped supplying Marinette with his seed, he withdrew from between the heavenly trap of her breasts, and another strands of his seed adorned them, prompting Marinette to perform action she wasn't able before, due to how much bigger and more supple her breasts have become. She pushed her breasts just up enough so she can lick off each and every drop of cum Chat left, as if it was the most delicious meal she wouldn't let go to waste. And the sight of expression on Chat's face was a reward already, aside of the familiar, musky aftertaste that reminded Marinette who has just marked her as his. Not to mention that as she squeezed her breast, Chat's essence mixed with her milk, adding a new taste of sweetness to his salty one.
Marinette revelled in the overwhelming storm of tastes that filled her mouth, and that indulgence gave Chat opportunity to counter-attack. Though he was pressed to the ground by her body and her breasts that now were a significant part of it, the superhero easily rolled her to her back, his head already back between her mounds, licking the milk that has managed to leak during his climax.
- I'd say that's a tie, my lady. - Of course you'd say that. - Marinette chuckled - You just want to get comfy and drink milk, and I just happen to have what you need...
In response, Chat let out a soft purr, as he nuzzled himself into Marinette's breasts, never taking eyes from his lover. Marinette reached and toyed with his untidy golden hair, and her charming smile managed to lure him from between her breasts for another long-needed kiss.
And just when she thought she would be given some time to relax, Chat Noir yanked her legs upwards, pressing them against her body, trapping her enlarged breasts between them, squishing them even more, which made them appear even larger.
- Sorry, Ladybug, but you are just too appetising to not ravish...
Marinette yelped when Chat's hard cock entered her again, and she felt Chat's delicious weight on top of her. She knew her new form would drag a very primal string in his masculine mind, and she did not object when he jumped to his feet and pushed her into a mating press, ready to engage in deeply animalistic form of love making.
His hips worked twice as hard than previously, wanting to reach as far into her throbbing, needy sex as possible, and while he was leaning over her, he was given once more chance to taste her delicious milk, each time he plunged himself inside her.
Ladybug's legs dangled above their heads, in sync of his ravenous thrusts, and as Marinette met his eyes, she had no doubts what drove him into his frenzied state. She knew that her kwami chose to make her look like a perfect mating partner, and that Chat was making sure there was enough milk for his kittens...
Their frantic bucking lasted shorter than they expected, but the same, wild thought they shared pushed them over the edge at the same time. Chat grabbed her thick thighs, buried his face between her breasts that erupted with milk, and in turn flooded her once more with his virile seed, bringing their shared fantasy to completion.
Chat collapsed on top of her, landing his head across Laybug's vast breasts, once more basking in their sweet glory. When their lips met again, they could both taste it, and the two lovers fell into a tight embrace.
The two were blissfully unaware that in the mean time the sun has gone down, but that only meant there will be less light for onlookers to catch them.
=====================
Standing by the kitchen counter, Marinette concentrated on making another batch of freshly baked sweets, so then they can be ready in an hour or so when the bakery opens. It was the quiet before the storm, but Marinette enjoyed those early morning hours... especially when she had someone to help her.
Adrien sneaked up behind his girlfriend, peppering her exposed neck with kisses, while his hands gently travelled up and down her waist, though once he saw what she's been making this whole time, his caresses stopped,and he let out a satisfying purr. On the counter lay several, hemispherical pastries, glazed in white marzipan, each adorned with a candied cherry on top, and the longer Adrien stared at them, the more he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
- Well, our adventure has certainly given you some inspiration, Marinette. Your original design? - I wish. - Marinette snickered - Those are called Saint Agatha's breasts, it's an old, Italian treat.
She handed him one, watching as his fingers dance on the shiny surface.
- It does remind me of what happened yesterday, though... - Adrien smiled, before taking a bite of the sugary coating. - I might have double-glazed them just like you did me.
Marinette brought her finger to his mouth to collect a small crumble of marzipan stuck to his lips, and predictably, her boyfriend wasn't just ravenous for sweets, as he quickly licked her finger clean too.
- Adrien! - Marinette pulled back and rushed to the sink - Warn me next time... - Okay, here's a warning..
Adrien chuckled, closing his arms around her belly once more. He sneaked his mouth to her neck, while his arms separated, each travelling closely to one of her erogenous zones. His left hand dived underneath her apron and tried getting into her panties, while the right one caressed her perky breasts, and as soon as his fingers began toying around her nipples, Marinette addressed something that has been on her mind.
- You miss them, don't you? - You know that I love you exactly the way you are... - Adrien answered tactfully - Don't lie, kitty - Marinette interrupted him. - You are, alas, only a man, therefore, I know you liked when my rack was three times the size of my current one. - Fine, if you want to, then I will say it - he kissed her neck - But just because I had more of you to love. Is it okay if I admit that I do slightly miss them? - If you'll keep finishing inside me, like yesterday, then I can assure you, you'll get them back very soon...
Marinette yelped, when his hands travelled back to her hips and spun her around in place, but once she met his face, she closed her arms behind his neck without missing a beat, just in time for his comeback.
- Is that a warning, or an invitation?
Adrien raised his brow, watching as her face reddened.
- Tell you what, I'm gonna finish in five minutes, and we might find out. - If you'll wear this apron then I will finish in five minutes... - Adrien!
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Have you ever talked about/drawn/ have head among about c-136’s rick? His relationship w/ his family and morty? Is her better than other ricks or worse? Etc!
i’ve never talked about rick c-136 much extensively come to think of it! so i hope you don’t mind if i use this ask as an opportunity to ramble about him and their dynamic and their dimension in general a little. it’s quite divergent from what’s typical for a rick and morty dynamic in places, i think.
first off i wanna lead with: morty c-136 is sixteen! so his summer is of course older too, and is now living away from home and attending college. he misses her a lot, but they still call a few times a week and bitch about their parents and what’s going on in their lives and bully each other a lot. she comes home sometimes, usually for holidays such as thanksgiving or whatever. they’re overly sappy for a minute max upon reuniting, then she’s kicking him in the balls and he’s calling her a dumb bitch.
his mom and dad are divorced, and have been since he was ten, so jerry is not really in the picture. rick is very relieved about this and hates jerry about as much as is typical for bastard grandpas. morty was sad about their messy break up, but very quickly came to understand it was for the best. there’s a security system rick set up to kick jerry to the curb if he ever comes around, much to morty’s aggravation, but it’s not put to much use anyway. (usually he walks over to his dad’s sad studio apartment of his own volition for custody weekend instead of being picked up, because his dad sleeps until late noon, so. not exactly a dependable ride. if he goes himself he can shake jerry awake at a reasonable hour and ... try to shake some sense into him too. so he doesn’t come to the house much.)
c-136′s rick has a complex relationship with his beth. she’s still very much wrapped up in his opinion of her and works to please, impress and ultimately attain his attention whenever she can. an easy way to do this is back rick up when morty backtalks him. if morty angrily says “shut the fuck up, rick” within earshot of his mother, she’s very quick to fly to her father’s defence as apposed to her son’s- “morty, don’t speak to my dad like that!” rick plays off this, recognizing an opportunity to make beth feel like it’s them versus morty, and says “thank you, sweetie.” the two then delve into conversation about how morty is “out of hand” as if he’s not even there, which understandably infuriates him further.
it hurts him a lot that his mom is so desperate to feel like her and her dad get along, and for him to acknowledge her existence, that she’ll invalidate his feelings and bitch about his behavior with rick to get it. he very much feels like his mom values having a positive relationship with her dad over him as a result. morty continues to love and care about her even in spite of the fact that it feels largely nonreciprocal at the best of times, but can come across quite cold, dismissive and clearly subconsciously angry with beth when talking about her at times as a result. don’t get me wrong, they go see the occasional movie together and morty helps her out preparing dinner very often. he cares deeply about his mom and he loves her, of course he does, but he's also felt incredibly estranged from her for most of his life. if nothing else, they can always at least bond over an eyeroll at one of his dad's latest fuck ups or stupid statuses on facebook. there’s some stuff about his childhood i could tack in here that’s relevant, but i’m very conscious of how long this is and i haven’t even talked about rick and morty’s dynamic yet ... adjaskjdfaksf sorry!
her alcoholism worries morty whereas rick seems a little indifferent to it, or considers it not a big deal. likely because he knows it invites accusations of hypocrisy if he calls out her self destruction via these vices.
in the past, morty’s tried talking with her, watering down and pouring out her alcohol stashes, and even pleaded for rick try and make her see reason- to no avail. (his grandpa ended up cracking a joke about what a fucking buzzkill morty is, they laughed it off together, and they both went out for, you guessed it, a fucking drink, or more likely ten of them, directly after the fact.)
right now, beth c-136 has been seeing a bartender for eleven months. rick seems to idly approve of him- at the very least, doesn’t hate him like he did jerry, which delights beth. her father deeming anything in her life a good choice means everything to her because she fights so hard to impress him while also trying not to look overtly clingy and needy, because that seems to repel him. also, he’s her genius father who doesn’t like anyone, so how the hell can his judgement be wrong, right? him approving of this guy has locked him into her life for the forseeable future. again, this pisses morty off, because this bartender guy encourages his mom’s worst vice of daydrinking with his job and lifestyle. he makes her happy, but he’s the fucking worst, and it makes morty want to tear his hair out. him and summer frequently snipe about the guy in private. sharing distaste for their parents’ prospective partners is very valid bonding they think.
c-136 rick and morty's relationship is emotionally flexible at the best of times. some days, so very rarely, they get along just great.
to name one wholesome headcanon before we Get Into It. occasionally, rick will pretend to know absolutely jack shit about one of the plants in morty’s greenhouse just to let him go off about it and suddenly seem excitably sure of himself for about twenty minutes of nonstop infodumping. 95% of the time he knows absolutely everything about the plant he’s asking about, actually, and on some level morty is absolutely aware of it. the smartest man in the universe apparently doesn’t know what a flaxtius olcum is? right. but ... he still appreciates the gesture a lot, and it cheers him up after a shitshow adventure.
it's not too clear what allows these occasions of treating one another with basic respect and almost fondness to arise- maybe his grandfather's in an uncommonly gracious mood, maybe they're playing minecraft or bashing animal crossing together, maybe they're snickering and exchanging incredulous glances during some cartoonishly evil alien's monologue of a plan as it's dictated to them in painstaking detail … regardless, those come around less and less often, these days.
rick secretly considers morty to be very capable and alarmingly more competent as of late, and he's not sure whether to feel almost proud or work to scramble to unravel all this progress lest morty start pulling away from him and revelling in his own independence.
they're a kickass duo when adventuring, very in sync. morty's less of a whiny burden or wide-eyed, unremarkable sidekick, and more of a borderline asset at this point. which again, makes rick feel very conflicted over how that skews their dynamic in a way that's less favorable for him, because morty doesn't need to lean on him as heavily or stick as close anymore. but at the same time, there’s less inherent risk of him dying while they adventure, because he handles himself so well. they can split up as needed to get shit done faster. morty frequently solo adventures, or as he calls it, “runs rick’s goddamn errands, actually.” he’s outgrown the concept of getting to choose an adventure and instead claims the portal gun every twelve adventures they have together, and goes off for one of his own.
morty speaks his mind very bluntly with rick and isn't really afraid to tell him to get fucked when he's being an unreasonable dick. he resents rick immensely for putting him down and pushing him around all the time.
morty's more assertive, yet still very much resigned to their irrefutably imbalanced companionship ; there are countless factors as to why. but primarily, it tends to boil down to feeling like he owes a lot to rick. were it not for his presence in his life, morty knows deep down that he wouldn't be half as interesting or even marginally as intelligent as he's capable of being now. he’d still be stupid, and mediocre, and uninteresting. unremarkable. unworthy of anyone’s attention or time because of how dull he is.
he's at a point where (to an extent) he feels distant from his life on earth at the best of times, because space and the infinite multiverse has encompassed his daily life for so long and on some level, he handles himself far better fighting for his life on the edge of the universe than trapped in a school full of sweaty teenagers and material he either blitzes through or can barely grasp. plus, rick was the closest thing he ever had to a friend while he was growing up. morty cares about rick, even if the older constantly cites reasons as to why attachment is moronic and sentiment is stupid, and he's aware that rick has come to care for him too- even if all his pointed jabs about not giving a shit and aloof front makes it hard to believe that all the time.
the issue is, once morty seems to waver in feeling that he has to constantly acquiesce to rick and falters in tolerating rick as an result of this obligated feeling of familial love, no matter how slightly, rick then begins to exert control over their relationship by other means, such as emotionally manipulating, gaslighting and outright blackmailing him to keep him in line with what he wants out of their dynamic: rick and morty, a hundred years, the only two people in the infinite multiverse that truly matter- theretofore, they should both solely consider one another as important, and worthwhile. he's willing to tarnish any other connections morty might form ��beyond their duo for fear of losing him.
he grows out of this irrational attachment a little more each time his grandfather lets him down, disillusions him ever further, hurts him or traumatizes him or actively fucking experiments on him- slowly but surely. he'll snap, in some sense, sometime. when exactly can't be known. what precise actions he might take to pry himself free of their codependent dynamic is unclear. but the way things are headed, the two of them splintering apart is inevitable, and it's unlikely to be an amicable thing at all. rick often actively renounces and appears repulsed by the very concept of familial love and basic attachment, constantly rants and raves in his drunken stupors about how replaceable everyone in his life is, and it's hard for morty to bite his tongue when he's behaving like that.
he just hates that he feels badly about himself and second guesses himself around rick. strangely enough, when he’s having to push through crazy shit alone, he does fine. great, even. sure, he’s freaking out, making everything up as he goes along, and secretly wishing rick was around to guide him out of the chaos because he knows in his heart rick would probably do it smarter. but once he’s with rick, he feels incapable and stupid beside him. like, being apart from him makes him feel so much lighter, allows him to lean on the intelligence he very much does possess, without being berated, second guessing it, and reminded it’ll never match up to rick’s, so there’s really no point in even trying.
#also fun fact: morty's very first mindblower was from when he was 14 and reverse engineered the whole ass portal gun#and rick absolutely flipped his shit and lowkey freaked out and erased the whole incident#BUT. HE THINKS ABOUT IT FUCKIN. OFTEN.#THE LIQUID IS WHAT'S HARD TO RECONSTRUCT. NOT SO MUCH THE GUN.#BUT IT WAS STILL... HE JUST. WHAT THE FUCK. HOW THE FUCK.#why is his morty. LIKE THAT.#feral and too smart/cocky for his own fuckin good!!!#I DON'T EVEN THINK THIS IS EVERYTHING IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG FDJFG FUCK??#i really did go off..... cringe.....#alex answers!#long post cw#I DONT WANT TO GIVE AWAY LIKE EVERYTHING BC#ONE DAY I MIGHT GET MY SHIT 2GETHER AND WRITE HIS FIC#BUT... YEAH-#Anonymous#c136!
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mistle
It is commission time! This one is from @princessbatteringram and for @agentkatie which allowed me to write in the wonderful universe of Katie’s The Two Commanders again. And this one’s utterly ridiculous fluff that hopefully provokes a smile or two.
Fandom(s): DA/ME
Pairing: femShep/Cullen
Rating: Gen
Summary: Shepard finds mistletoe, shenanigans ensue.
Notes: the original etymology for mistletoe combines the Germanic ‘mistle’ with the Old English tān, which means twig, which I’m using as an excuse to the name variation in Thedas. The wonderfully badass and amazing Mollie belongs to @agentkatie. Treat yourself to reading TTC, some of the best writing you’ll encounter.
Word count: 1560
also on ao3
Cullen hasn't slept in two nights. Not that she's keeping count, of course. She's just vividly aware of it when she looks at him, at the dark circles under his eyes, at the way his hands shake. He hasn't said a word to her, burying himself under mountains of work, hiding in that way of his that makes her want to blow something up. She goes into the courtyard instead, determined to smash some dummies to dust by throwing her biotics at them until everyone around her runs off in either discomfort or fear.
Her plan is thwarted when Cassandra looks up from her book, takes one glance at her, and leads her away with a very determined hand wrapped around her elbow in an iron grip. They're halfway across the bridge by the time Shepard starts swearing and protesting at once and all of it is soundly ignored.
'Where are we even going, Cass?' she asks, and even to her own ears her voice sounds petulant.
Cassandra gives her a raised eyebrow that says far too much, and leads her on the mountain path, away from the fortress.
‘I need some elfroot and I don't want to take it from the apothecary's stock. And the task will go quicker with you,’ she says with a smile that Shepard feels only the slightest urge to punch.
It’s a flimsy excuse: they pick more than enough elfroot every time they go on an expedition. Shepard can almost instinctively feel its presence now. The smell of it is always on her hands because she helps with making potions to ease Cullen's pain every day. Sometimes he kisses her hands and holds her palm to his cheek and looks at her like she's that god of his. He hasn't looked at her much lately, though. She understands the reason behind all this. It just doesn't make it any easier.
Shepard focuses instead on listening to Cassandra's voice, telling her about the book she's reading. The mountain air is as chilly as ever, but it's so sunny that there's an insinuation of far-off spring in the air. Snow crunches under her boots and she inhales the cold, lets it fill her lungs. She feels less angry already and she can't even resent Cassandra for dragging her along. Shepard gets easily restless at Skyhold. It's claustrophobic to be stuck in just one place for weeks. She's been grounded for so long but everything in her rebels at it still. Her ship could also be confining, but it was in constant movement between the stars. She misses that freedom. It's something Cullen will never be able to understand, even though she can see how much he would like to know the magnitude of what she feels.
Shepard doesn't notice the mistletoe at first, but then the corner of her eye registers redness against the snow and the shock of familiarity almost takes her breath away. She's not seen it anywhere else, but now here it is, right in front of her, in this nondescript place, curling around the branches of a drying tree. Shepard rushes over and starts gathering it under Cassandra’s astonished gaze.
'They have this where I come from! Mistletoe! I haven't seen it in years.'
'That's mistletwig, Shepard. It's a pest.'
Shepard mock gasps, loudly, and it echoes around them, making Cassandra's expression ever more sour.
'It's pretty. Don't you use it for decorating at Christ-uh, Satinalia? It's a very old tradition at home, very popular in old…uh, stories. If two people find themselves underneath it, they have to kiss. Surely you have something like that.'
'Absolutely not. Why would anyone do something like that? It makes no sense. ‘
'Because it's fun. Do you want to try?' Shepard asks, holding her bundle of mistletoe over her head and pouting her lips as much as she can at Cassandra until the Seeker is so flustered she trips over her own legs when she walks away.
By the time they return to Skyhold, Cassandra is so fed up with Shepard’s constant mistletoe jokes that she’s striding far ahead, clutching the elfroot she’s gathered so tightly that she has a trail of leaves following her. Guards patrolling the bridge turn to look at them as they pass, Cassandra muttering angrily about obstinate and obnoxious people, Shepard grinning wildly while holding her mistletoe like a trophy. It’s not the weirdest sight that Skyhold has ever seen.
She asks a scout dawdling in the courtyard about Cullen’s whereabouts and she is informed that the other commander has taken to his bed for a few hours, which is excellent in more than one way. Her plan must be carried out while he’s not paying attention.
Five minutes into the endeavour, Shepard finds herself longing for duct tape, that pinnacle of technology. Skyhold has many nooks and crannies, but it also has high ceilings and all the ladders seem to have vanished. The leaves of the mistletoe are leaving marks on her hands, and she decides that she needs help.
She bursts into Sera's room first, narrowly avoiding a dagger to the face for startling her.
'I'm planning some mischief that will annoy Cullen,' Shepard says before briskly walking back through the tavern with everyone staring at her.
The library is next, and she has to exert all her self-control to keep herself from throwing pokey mistletoe leaves at Solas' head. Dorian is much harder to convince, so Shepard steals the book he was reading and hurries away, the soft sound of silk robes following her, along with a steady stream of Tevene swearwords.
Her assistants end up being no help at all. Sera wraps Shepard up in all the twine they've stolen from the kitchens, and Dorian complains so much that Shepard sends him away to keep from flinging him off the battlements. There is twine in her hair when Cole finds her in the dust of one of the unused tower rooms. An awkward silence hangs between them, but then Cole tells her where the good ladders are and that is all the information she needs to make this mission a success.
Cullen emerges bleary-eyed from his office when she's just about done on the battlements. She hands two ladders to two different scouts and walks over to Cullen, who observes her progress warily. He's not shaking, though. Shepard will take that as a win.
'What are you up to?' Cullen asks when Shepard reaches him, his hands finding their way to her hips instinctively.
She grins at him and it only seems to make him more worried, but she kisses the look off his face, feeling him blush as she frames his cheeks with her hands.
'Sorry,' she says, when he sputters something about the guards seeing them. 'Mistletoe.'
She points above them, where she's managed to hang mistletoe from the doorframe. Cullen stares at it, then at her, and the lack of comprehension on his face is both adorable and hilarious.
'That's mistletwig and I don't see what that has to do with anything.'
She kisses him again before she explains.
Within a week, Skyhold descends into chaos as it learns of Shepard's mistletoe tradition. To save Cullen's face from constantly looking like it’s burning, she drags him to locations on her mistletoe map at random throughout the days and evenings and during one or two late nights. She does it when she's fairly sure no one will see them, but the entire fortress hears of it despite her care. The sprigs of mistletoe wilt but the red berries attract everyone's attention. Dorian and Sera share what they know one evening in the tavern, and couples new, old, and transient start following in Shepard's footsteps.
In the meantime, Shepard kisses Cullen under the staircase in the Herald's Rest. She kisses him on the battlements. She kisses him in front of Varric's fireplace in the Great Hall, and also behind the Inquisitor's throne. She kisses him in the hidden library, and then once more in the vault. She kisses him in the hall between Josephine's office and the war room.
She kisses him in the armoury, but she gets the timing wrong, and they get chased out by Cassandra's judgiest expression. She kisses him in the stables. She kisses him in empty rooms. Most of all, she kisses him in his bed, their bed, as mistletoe hangs over them from the barely-there ceiling (she'd needed to plead with Dorian for that one). Throughout it all, Cullen kisses her back every time. He laughs until all the shadows are banished from his face, and he sleeps far better than before. His hands aren't shaking when she holds them in hers. It's a silly distraction, and she's very aware of it, but it's worked as she intended.
Shepard isn't aware of the mayhem until Josephine summons her and informs her in much more diplomatic phrasing that the fortress is now full of couples making out everywhere at all times, which is, of course, not quite in keeping with the Inquisition's standards.
Shepard doesn't do well with exposure to Josephine's disappointed face so she dutifully gathers every sprig of prickly wilted mistletoe. She then burns it in the courtyard, holding Cullen's hand as he attempts to keep his laughter in check. Might as well make the ending grand too.
#commission#my writing#mollie shepard#i love these two so much#(both shep/cullen and aly&katie)#i know she'll kill me for using her first name
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(1)What do you think will happen when Dany finds out Cersei is not coming North? I think Jon anticipated this. Sex and long journey by boat was probably a way for Jon to get Dany to fall even harder for him hoping that when this happened she would choose him over Cersei? Do you think he succeeded? Will Dany stay put when she finds out Cersei went back on the ceasefire? Did Jon do all that for nothing? I waffle on this but I do think if Dany has a betrayal for love and that's Jon then she can't
(2) betray him first. I think Jon will have to use her for what he wants effectively for the betryal to have more impact. I think the betrayal will happen after WW and have to do with Sansa and Cersei. He sure went out of his way with that speech to prove his loyalty to Dany. Cersei playing a part in that betrayal makes sense. And even though he’s playing her I would think he would try to get out of it with minimal damage or even maybe stay with her but if Sansa is involved Danys hurt
(3) feelings will be out the window. I think this could be part of the kidnapping plot at this point.
(4) Also, I think Starks will find out about parentage pretty early in s8 but keep it to themselves. They will have enough to deal with with the NK and the North’s reaction to him bending the knee. Jon’s riding a Dragon to go save Sansa could act as public reveal also adding to the betrayal aspect. Dany has been on the edge for 7 seasons we saw shades of this at the end of s1. I can see that betrayal playing out again with the ramifications much greater.
Hey, nonnie!
Sorry for taking so long to answer but you guys have been killing it with the questions over the week-end so it’s taken me a while to go through all of them.
In regards to your question:
What do you think will happen when Dany finds out Cersei is not coming North?
I think the way we need to approach this is by looking at the entire context of the set-up season 7 left us with. Because Cersei’s betrayal is just one of the Chekhov’s guns that is waiting to go off in relation to Jon/D*ny. Let’s go through the list:
1. The parentage reveal - this was always going to be a point of contention between these 2 but the show made sure to highlight the fact that Jon is “the rightful heir to the Iron Throne”. Jon and D*ny are on a collision course with destiny, as they say.
2. “A Targareyen cannot be trusted” - The Northern Lords and the Vale have made their sentiments regarding D*ny and her Lannister adviser abundantly clear so D*ny is going to be faced with a very antagonistic North when she gets to Winterfell. Add to that the fact that she forced Jon to bend the knee and they won’t like him that much either. D*ny was so certain that the North would simply accept whatever their king did but she’s in for quite the shock.
3. The Night King has a dragon - D*ny is about to face an enemy that equals, or perhaps surpasses, her strength and it’s not going to be pleasant. She’s not used to not being at the top of the military food chain. Add to that the fact that with a swing of his arm the NK can take out her remaining dragons and she’s will run the risk of losing the one thing that she feels gives her an edge over the competition. Without her dragons, D*ny is lost so if something comes along to jeopardize this, it’s going to make it difficult for her to remain committed to the fight.
4. Cersei will not only not honor her pledge of sending tropes North, she’s acquired the Golden Company and she plans on using them - D*ny is stuck in the North while Cersei will do what she feared she will do: take back the country, region by region.
To this we can add what is speculation at this point but any of the following factors will further put pressure on D*ny:
1. Jonsa - that’s going to be quite the blow to D*ny personally. Not only does Jon have a better claim to the throne than she does, but he’s in love with another woman. Here’s where the kidnapping of Sansa becomes evidence for D*ny that she is in fact lost this particular romantic fight.
2. Sansa - this political player now holds the North and she’s not going to appreciate having a tyrant bent on exerting power over her people and her home. Add to that, the love triangle and Sansa will prove quite the strain on D*ny. And for once, she will, in fact, not be the most popular woman in the room. The horror!
3. Bran “the warg” Stark - if there’s a guy in this whole story that could potentially take control of a dragon, even her precious Drogon, that’s Brandon “three eyed raven” Stark. Can you imagine a scene where Drogon abandons D*ny or doesn’t do what she tells him? It’s going to terrify her!
4. Political Jon - figuring out that Jon has been playing her all along, that he never truly bent the knee and will never go against his Stark family and also is willing to do just about anything to ensure their safety, could cause quite a bit of stress, I’d imagine.
Now, all of the above is essentially a disaster waiting to happen for D*ny and even if only half of the speculation turns out to be true, it’s going to be enough to make D*ny abandon the North and go back to her original conquering ways. But since the writers have set up so many Chekhov’s guns, I imagine her journey will be gradual. She might start questioning her resolve to the War for the Dawn cause when she hears about Cersei but she won’t abandon the fight just yet. For maximum impact you need at least the parentage and Jonsa reveal to hit home as well. The rest can fall into place, even after she’s gone, once her and Jon go to war against each other.
So in a sense, Jon did succeed in keeping her invested with b0atbang and his pledge at the Dragonpit and I think he intends to honor his part of the deal to the best of his abilities but there are many more factors that will make it impossible for him to do so. In essence the narrative won’t allow him to go through with his alliance with D*ny because the alliance was always bound to fail.
I do think the parentage reveal will be something that the Starks will keep to themselves in the beginning because, you’re right, they have other things to worry about and they have a Queen with dragons and a huge army they will need to keep in the dark about this. But again unforeseen circumstances will make the parentage reveal public and it’s going to come back to haunt them because that’s the way these types of set ups work in stories. There’s no point in keeping this secret for so long if you’re not going to use it for maximum impact. So at some point, while still in the North, D*ny will find out who Jon really is.
When it comes to the three treasons and how that plays into political Jon, I’m a little reluctant to speculate because this prophecy was not brought up in the show. The three treasons are important in that it ties political Jon into the larger narrative arc GRRM has set up for D*ny in the books and proves that this particular theory would fit within the book universe quite neatly.
In regards to this prophecy, I would alert you to this meta written by @thelawyerthatwaspromised. I think she makes a very compelling case that the three treasons D*ny will know are in fact treasons committed by her against other people and not treasons done to her. I think that’s the kind of prophetic twist that’s very much in line with GRRM’s usage of prophecy not as destiny or as a riddle but rather the combination of personal choices and ambiguous superstition that can lead people to self-fulfilling prophecies.
So, I guess that in a way, Jon betrays her because he allows her to believe that he loves her when he doesn’t but in reality he has every intention of honoring his personal commitment to her, provided she honors her commitment to the North. Which is not something that D*ny will be able to do because for one, the temptation for the Iron Throne is too big, all of the extenuating circumstances she will be faced with will make her see Jon as more and more of a threat and because of her own failings, namely her lack of introspection and her inability to listen to advice or reason, she will explode and dark D*ny will come into play.
Thanks for the ask!
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I don't understand the permanent lion switch theory. Why do the characters need to grow into roles other teammates can already fullfill perfectly? and why are Pidge and Hunk excluded from such "important development"?
Honestly I’m not surprised Pidge and Hunk are left out?
Again, I feel like it’s less a support of the first switch formation and more this sort of… elevating Shiro’s importance to the team, but also not accepting that Shiro is also if anything ludicrously overqualified to be Black Paladin.
With regards to Keith: people want him to be black paladin because they want to view him as “the main hero”, and the idea is that Black is the “most special”
I feel like there’s some irony to the mentality because it basically frames Shiro and Black the same way- their actual qualities don’t matter. What matters is that Keith (or Lance) are good, have good qualities, and deserve recognition, and that recognition should be given to them no matter how Black or Shiro would feel about it, or even what Keith / Lance are shown in-universe to want.
With Lance, and Blue, there’s a particular angle to it that tangles in with Blue’s role as the Heart. Even within Voltron itself as a franchise, most continuities put Allura in the Blue Lion. And as much as I’ve heard many people complain that Lance “deserves better” than the Blue Lion, it’s comparatively almost unheard of for people to gripe about Allura being “shackled” to the Blue Lion even though they frame Lance deserving better as Blue being dead-end worthless drudgery.
Because the Heart- characters similar to VLD Lance- are often sorted into two categories. Both are looked down upon- emotional labor, empathy, and supporting the team are not seen as valuable heroic exertions, and they’re virtually always framed as coming at the cost of the person themselves- because obviously you’d never want to support other people if you could put your all-important self first, even when that self is being adequately tended to.
A female character in the role of the Heart is just seen as this is where she ought to be. It’s effectively considered a pink-collar job, and you can look at in the real world what’s considered “women’s work”. Of course she’s tirelessly going to tend to her team, of course she’s never going to pursue anything important for herself (when that sacrifice of self is not actually remotely necessary) of course she’s going to be the doe-eyed loving supportive figure, she’s a girl, that’s what girls do, live for all of the men around them, right?
Conversely a male character in the role of the Heart? Is seen as an absolute joke for the most part. Isn’t it funny he’s so weak-willed and sympathetic, isn’t it funny he’s not aggressive and macho, god he’s so pathetic. But don’t worry, though, since he’s supposed to want better than this lame old Heart job, he’ll inevitably “grow up” to be tough in a stereotypically macho way, even if this character development is completely at odds with everything else about who he is as a person.
At best, getting the character development that actually befits him as the Heart, you can count on him to be unaccepted until he proves he gained something from it in a sufficiently “manly” proactive manner.
The thing is, a lot of the tropes around the Heart aren’t remotely actually necessary to the role, and a well-written Heart character either deconstructs them or simply does entirely without them. There is no rule that emotional labor is the level that people stoop to when they aren’t man enough to chase their personal objectives. The role of the Heart is where we, as a society, dump our garbage- all of the hangups about this womanish kind of heroism- and the misogyny that says “well if WOMEN do it, it can’t be valuable!” and “real men don’t cry, what are you, a GIRL?”
It’s worth noting that the cry to take Lance away from the Blue Lion is probably the loudest and most passionate- Shiro, Pidge and Hunk are completely ignored for this (there’s basically no discussion where Shiro should go except “not in the Black Lion, because we need that for Lance!”) because their roles are very standard.
Here’s the brainy one, here’s the brawny one, here’s the Leader, and there’s his Right Hand, we don’t complain about these things. Because we’ve already been conditioned through just about any five-man team show to consider those four the important ones, and Shiro the most important of all. When canon already can be viewed as “tempting” us with the possibility of Keith “surpassing” Shiro and stealing his important leader spotlight, it’s just understandable people salivate over that possibility- because we all know only the Leader will actually get the biggest slice of heroism at the end.
But the heart? There’s a reason TVTropes dismissively calls that role “The Chick”. Just look at that name for it- “oh, the designated girl, they threw her in there just because they had to have a girl so people wouldn’t complain about their sexism, so she can, y’know, stand out of the way and look pretty. Maybe we can give her a dainty little weapon and let her do some fighting but not that much. When the Leader is having his real, manly problems she’ll drop all of her petty girl issues to run over and support him.”
This is not what’s in VLD. But it’s in the cultural lens that we’ve been led to look to these kind of shows. It’s why, even in absence of canon support, people assume Shiro asserts so much more control and influence over the team- to the point of how many fanfics assume if Shiro disliked Lance, that Shiro could turn the whole team against Lance rather than the team would kick him to the curb, as we literally saw happen in motion with our secondary Voltron team, Sincline, and how Lotor vs. Narti ultimately ended. The generals gathered around the fallen Narti, and Lotor was simply cut from the team, without particular effort or fanfare. The hardest thing for the generals was feeling bad about it.
But Shiro and Lotor, they’re Leaders, so they have to be inherently stronger than their whole team, inherently in charge- except they aren’t.
People likewise assume that just pointing out Keith’s strength and intelligence mean that he should be the Leader- the idea is that he’s too competent to be a Right Hand, because every position besides the head is perceived as settling for less. (And Hunk- a fat black man, and Pidge- a young quite-possibly-written-as-trans girl with choppy hair, outside of occasional token “no, THEY should be the special one! I’m so revolutionary in praising them without thinking about them instead of insulting them without thinking about them!” largely are simply accepted that of course they’re settling, they’re lesser people)
Here’s the thing about Lance in VLD. None of that applies to him.
Lance has never been characterized as a weak-willed doormat. Nor has he been characterized as settling for less, or less thought of than his peers.
In fact, the roles that are shown to diminish Lance and leave him unhappy… are the stereotypically “manly” roles people would logically propose as a “fix” for Lance being “stuck” as the Heart.
Lance’s attempted James Bond impression is what makes Allura frustrated at him- while in s3, when, with growing confidence, Lance is his sincere, sweet self- that’s when Allura starts responding positively, starts telling him that he has “greatness” within him. That’s when he unlocks the Altean sword (sword from a planet of diplomats, awakened in a flare of blue light)
Lance taking Keith’s position at the Garrison features him being reminded he’s only here because Keith couldn’t be, and him blowing off the importance of the job, him acting at his pettiest. In contrast, in the same episode with no time for character development, Blue is framed as, from the start, choosing him first, ignoring everyone else there to stare only at Lance when nobody else is “taken” much less knowing there’s a Lion fitting for them… and Lance immediately settles comfortably into place.
Lance’s response to being chosen for Red is to first refuse it, try to pass it off to someone else, and then, when he does go for it, he comes back to grieve his connection with Blue. And Black? We see Lance uncomfortable and stiff in Black’s cockpit, trying to tell himself to feel good, because isn’t this what he wanted? Isn’t it?
People who are fitting where they were always meant to be don’t respond to it by grieving their previous niche, usually. Especially not there’s no particular ‘sweetness’ of “but I have Red now” or “but I wanted Red.” Lance wanted to give up the Red Lion back to Keith with no guarantee Blue would even be waiting for him. That’s a hell of a contrast to Lance yelling at Keith in s2e4 because Keith even said something about the Blue Lion.
Yeah, the wrong-colored armors is a continuity joke, but I can’t believe it’s just a mythology joke. VLD made a genuine commitment to base the characters off of specific colors, meaning that Lance in Red looks awkward. Our inner kindergartener goes “ha ha, no VLD, blue guy doesn’t go in red cat! Blue guy goes in BLUE cat!”
And proponents of Lance in somewhere else are aware of this- they’re very quick to change that armor color. Except canon has in every conceivable way tried to show us that’s not the case. They keep setting up material to frame it, more and more and more, as Lance belongs to Blue. Allura doesn’t have much in common with Blaytz or Ezor… but both of them have an awful lot in common with Lance.
And what are Lance’s good qualities, the things he really excels in?
Lance understands the team, and several times he’s singlehandedly pulled them back from disaster by his ability to read people’s emotions. Kuron? Going to be solved by Lance, is the framing we’ve gotten here. Team needs to connect emotionally? Everybody follow Lance’s lead. Shiro as Black Paladin? Acknowledged first by Lance before they even knew Black existed. Team needs to act out roles that aren’t theirs? Gape in awe of Lance’s absolute mastery of emotions. His nature is putty in his hands.
Compared to other incarnations of Lance that genuinely did write this character as Red Paladin, VLD Lance is noticeably more sober-minded, clearheaded and perceptive. He’ll never actually sacrifice something important for the benefit of a petty grudge. If anything, this is what we see framed as an absolutely jawdropping tactical asset for Lance- VLD is the first one to actually make Lance a sniper, with the clarity and precision of intent that make that useful. He can sweep an entire battlefield, check on all his friends, pick off targets and bottleneck enemies as needed.
Even his success with the Red Lion frames his Blue Paladin cooperation and malleability. Because Lance in Red isn’t driven really by ironclad loyalty the way Keith, Acxa, and Sendak are- Lance hooks onto Keith with “Right now, I’m in your corner, and that means I’m gonna be what you need me. If you need loyal support, I’m there, but if what you actually need is someone loudly reminding you that you left Allura behind, I’m doing that too.”
On the one hand, I’m touched by how much VLD really adores Lance, and loves depicting him as the Heart, and loves emphasizing the Heart’s importance to the team. On the other? I am frankly beyond pissed that I have to aggressively defend Lance in the Blue Lion by emphasizing that he can still do violence onto things in a fight. Yeah, it’s important to let all your characters have a piece of the pie and if your series is an action series that’s gonna mean action scenes, but rather than examine some of our deeply flawed relationship with gender and how much that serves as background radiation to anything we see as “womanish” and why, exactly, do we see Lance’s job as less valuable if it “seems feminine”, it feels too much like we’re wasting time trying to prove Lance is enough of a real man he can rock this “girly” job.
I think the whole “Lion swap should stick / they should push it further and never go back to original formation” if anything sets itself up to be breathtakingly meta because I feel like it’s ultimately rooted in not thinking through any of the roles very much. Because if you just look at them shallowly, Blue and Yellow sound the least “Cool” the way our culture frames things (again, the whole devaluing of support / prioritizing individual victory- if you’re not actively selfishly taking for yourself, you must not be doing anything for yourself).
Green sounds a little better, and Red sounds cooler (“Right Hand!” plus the self-satisfying narrative of “well, when Zarkon went bad, Alfor was the one who Defied Him” ignoring that all four paladins did, and Alfor was merely the more visible thanks to his connection with Allura and with Voltron- ignoring that it was almost definitely one of the other three, and likely Blaytz, that gave Zarkon that scar), but Black Lion, oh, that’s the best one, right?
So just grab whatever character you like best and stuff them into the Black Lion. This is how you appreciate a character! You want best character to get best lion. Now nobody can question how much you love them, even if you would be hard-pressed to actively identify what are their good qualities and how they align with Black’s explicitly stated qualities.
I’m not saying nobody who supports Black Paladin Lance thinks about it that much, but that the premise feels so congratulatory when it’s actually quite patronizing (it basically hinges on the idea that the Blue Lion can’t have recognized and mirrored any of Lance’s good qualities and the Lion that chose him first was basically putting up with him because he wasn’t her best fit and if Lance really belonged to Blue that’d make him a total loser) can help explain why its appeal is so widespread.
Especially when it feels like every time Lance says something in an authoritative tone people go “oh my gosh, Black Paladin Lance!” like… I was not aware that being Black Paladin hinged on only one virtue and that was your ability to angrily yell things. Last time I checked fandom was quite cross with Shiro’s authoritative yelling.
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FULL NAME: nam heeyoung AGE: twenty - six / one hundred - six. PRONOUNS / GENDER: she / her / cisfemale. SPECIES: vampire. HOUSING: a quaint one - bedroom apartment in halkirk, rent paid in cash on the 1st of every month.
FAMILY:
having been born an only child and turned soon after her 26th birthday, heeyoung outlived her parents and most close relatives. while her biological family is unfortunately no longer given the nature of her supernatural status, she surrounds herself with acquaintances to form what she dubs a ‘ found family. ‘
BACKSTORY
heeyoung born to two well - meaning, though slightly over - protective parents in a small town just outside of new york city in 1912. having come to the country shortly before 1910 -- notable for the immigration halt -- her parents ran a restaurant to make ends meet, often teetering a baby - talking heeyoung in one harm while carrying a plate with the other. though her parents were often busy, a side effect of running a business, she grew up loved, always sure of her importance in her parents’ lives. for all intents and purposes, she was their princess, and their modest home was a modern, albeit modest, castle.
though it likely wasn’t her parents’ intention, heeyoung grew sheltered in the confines of the family business. when she was old enough to work, she began her shifts at the restaurant and was left with little time to enjoy simply being a kid. her youth came and went, but that child - like innocence, a product of her upbringing, remained. it would break her parents’ hearts if she were to ever leave, their only daughter and hope for continuing on the family legacy running out, but she longed for the freedom outside of four-walls and a town that felt stifling. what was a princess with a castle, without a prince?
he was a customer, blonde and blue - eyed and everything that her father, in all of his wisdom, was careful to remind her to stay away from. he was dangerous, aloof with a grin and a sly glance. it began as a tryst, his visits becoming routine and the notes passed back and forth, dropped on the table with whatever scraps they could find. she never questioned skin that was cool to the touch, the way he only ever seemed to pick at his food. she never questioned the ring, glinting in the sunlight like a secret. for the first time, she felt hopeful that there was something else out there, something beyond the known. he promised her forever and she never asked twice.
her poor parents bawled and begged when she told them about the boy who promised her forever, promised to whisk her away and make for a better life. he’d come into some inheritance, and they’d have to lay low, but it was something more... something better than a stationary life going nowhere fast. her father kissed her forehead, both her cheeks while her mother’s hands clasped one of her own, and reminded her that promises could be broken -- that things weren’t always what they seemed. that their princess, their precious princess, deserved only the world and she ought to be sure she was going to get it.
she signed on the dotted line without a second thought, chin upturned and neck exposed. he bled her dry soon after her 26th birthday, stilling the clock and stilling her heart. when she awoke, thirsty for something she couldn’t bring herself to name, the realization of what she’d done begun to sink in. and when he told her this was the end of the line, that she’d served her purpose to him only days later... he stilled her heart and broke it all the same.
the years after blurred. she supposes she’s one of the lucky ones, one of the lucky ones who’d managed to find their way without their maker’s guiding hand. he’d disappeared without a trace, though she’d never stopped being haunted by that head of blonde hair and that sick, sick smile. it wasn’t long before the need for revenge began to bloom and flower in her chest, the idea of what she would do if ever presented the opportunity taking root in her mind. she savored the thought, the possibilities. he’d destroyed her deepest desires, made a joke of her wildest fantasies. he’d taken and taken and taken until there was nothing left to give, until she’d left her mortality lying at his feet. gone was the sweet little girl who’d wanted nothing more than to be wanted, nothing more than something more than the hand she was dealt. how could she be blamed for the desperation to make him pay when he’s the one that created this monster?
PERSONALITY:
heeyoung is incredibly blunt, veering on abrasive ruthlessness, and rarely with good intentions. she lacks the ability to believably sugar - coat her words, preferring a direct and often painful approach. while she attributes this to her hatred of ‘beating around the bush,’ her intentions are frankly more sinister: she enjoys coaxing the brief crest-fallen looks that come with every well - timed low blow, enjoys the downcast eyes and somber air. she refuses to handle others with kid gloves, and after all, the world never sugar-coated itself for her.
she’s manipulative in nature, often employing others to do her bidding for her. she thrives on chaos of her own creation to cure her boredom -- she doesn’t seem to understand that just because you can, doesn’t always mean that you should. she enjoys exerting her will on situations and she relishes the control. neutral evil at best, chaotic evil at worst.
her ability to conceal her emotions often leads to others not quite being sure what to expect. what’s going on in that pretty little head of hers? what is she thinking? what is she feeling? the air of mystery is so carefully constructed, the girl she once was -- the girl who longed for happiness and freedom, the girl who longed for something so much more -- concealed by a grim facade. in truth, her personality is a myth, a survival tactic. it’s unclear if that little girl so desperately naive still lingers somewhere down deep, and even more unclear if that girl will ever make an appearance again.
NICKNAMES?
if you’d like to keep your head, no nicknames allowed. however, if you’re feeling particularly daring and want to press her buttons, spin the wheel and see if she responds.
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES?
devoid of tattoos and piercings other than the standard ears, there’s nothing particularly distinguishing about her, save for a small mole at the outer edge of her left eyebrow.
ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS?
heeyoung is careful to always hold herself at arms’ length. while she’s had the occasional tryst throughout her life, her motivations have stemmed from a place of boredom rather than genuine desire for a relationship. though it’s been over a hundred years since the betrayal that changed her life, her supernatural identity serves as a constant reminder of what she went through. a romantic relationship would nearly require an act of god, a bond that awakens the part of her she’s longed to keep at rest -- relationships with mortal beings are fleeting, temporary. and the last person to promise her forever... well, you can see why she’s not keen on it.
LIKES / DISLIKES?
heeyoung is quite the fan of mystery. not only a good novel, but also in the way she presents and carries herself. she prides herself on being always out of reach, on having at least one card tight to her chest. she derives pleasure from being a woman unknown -- the girl known by everyone and yet, known by no one. in addition, she loves a good horror movie and a quiet night in. she wouldn’t say no to a little chaos, either. she has a taste for luxury items, though never overly extravagant or flashy -- she prefers understated to overstated. and of course, a little fresh blood seems like a no - brainer.
her dislikes are a never - ending list of pet peeves. account for the usual “talking with the mouth full” and add the curve - ball “messy feeders.” she hardly tolerates fakeness, with a hint of irony given that much of her appearance to the world is a facade. boredom is impossible to deal with.
FRIENDS?
bold of anyone to assume she has friends.
BIGGEST FEAR?
her biggest fear is simply... what happens when it’s over? so much of her life has been dedicated to extracting revenge on what had been done to her, on finding her once lover and forcing him to pay for his crimes. so what happens when it’s over? where does she go, what will she do? without that drive, what else is left? she fears the inevitable sense of emptiness where the fulfillment should be. because while this thing feels so big, so overwhelming, so huge in her life... it’s so small in the greater aspect of her eternity. and so she grapples with what will happen when it’s over, how she’ll feel and what she’ll do.
it’s something she’s never told anyone. it’s something she barely wants to admit to herself.
SECRETS?
her biggest secret parallels her biggest fear. it’s so heavily intertwined that one cannot be separated from the other. she refuses to allow anyone to know just how closely her vulnerability lies to the surface.
IN LOVE?
heeyoung’s been in love once. nothing more, nothing less. no one had caught her eye before him, and she’d never allow herself to fall for someone after. the first and only time cost her her mortality -- she’s not interested in seeing what the price would be next time.
while she’d say that her heart isn’t broken, she’s never allowed herself to fully grieve what was lost -- her heart broke the day she woke up alone, immortal and damned, and it’s never recovered. her desire for revenge sat in the space where the hurt should have been. it was easier to be angry, easier to hate than it was to mourn. to an extent, though she’s so far removed, her heart still is a little broken.
FLAWS?
her desire to keep everything hidden and remain a mystery. it’s impossible to let anyone in, because she’s terrified of getting hurt. more so than that, she’s terrified of losing someone after allowing them into her life. she’s not interested in temporary and fleeting things -- allowing someone in for the lifespan of a human when her forever stretches far beyond feels pointless. additionally, her ruthless and manipulative nature, as well as her selfishness.
MEMORIES?
acutely, she remembers every aspect of telling her parents all about this boy who was going to whisk her away, make for a better life. she remembers lamenting on how he promised her forever -- their own little inside joke -- and how her parents had warned her, almost knowingly, to be careful, that things weren’t always what they seemed.
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FanFic Friday: Mission on Mimban 3 of 12
Previous Installments
Introduction, One, Two,
What Happens in the Chapter
Luke and Leia find an open tavern, tell the droids to go hide, and they enter to buy some real food with the miners coming off shift. They get through ordering a meal without alerting officialdom. The popular form of entertainment in this tavern is kicking the native sentients around, who are addicted to a liquor and will debase themselves to get any of it. Luke and Leia don't cause a scene with stopping this entertainment.
The waiter realizes Leia's not a miner by her delicate hands, which is kind of impressive, and tells an Imperial civil servant, which makes me wonder if there's a standard credit bounty for turning in suspicious people. Leia starts to panic and leave and Luke slaps her across the face. Leia sits back down and stays quiet as Luke tells the Imperial that he bought Leia and she's his servant. The Imperial believes this story and leaves them alone. Leia, now furious with Luke, tries to leave again but is stopped by an old woman who introduces herself as Halla.
Halla very shrewdly has their number, recognizing that they are strangers to the human population of Mimban and Luke's strength in the Force. Luke senses that Halla has the Force, but Halla claims to be a master. She works hard to move a spice shaker on the table. She offers to help them if they help her, and makes them admit how they crashed on the planet. They establish Luke and Leia's price is stealing a ship so they can leave. She warns them about Grammel, the Imperial in charge of the Mimban mining. Halla wants their help to find the Kaiburr crystal. As proof that the crystal is real, she shows them "a splinter of something that looked like red glass and glowed softly. The color was deeper, richer than red corundum. It had a vitreous luster resembling crystallized honey." When Luke touches the fragment, he experiences an increase in his perception of the Force. "It magnifies and clarifies... in proportion to its size and density, I think."
Luke agrees with Halla that the Kaiburr crystal must be kept out of Imperial hands, and Leia finally agrees to the expedition. They settle the bill and leave the tavern with no more attention paid to them. Then Leia kicks Luke in the shins outside and he lands in a ditch next to the walkway. Luke pulls her into the mud and they start wrestling.
Halla was watching, amused, until several large me came out of the tavern behind her. They paused, their attention also drawn by the wrestling match in the mud. They were all just drunk enough to be dangerous and the longer they watched, the quieter they became.
Much too quiet to suit Halla...
And that's where this chapter ends.
What I Liked
The miasma of narcotic incense and other smokes nearly asphyxiated Luke, and he had to struggle not to cough.
"What's wrong?" The Princess looked worried, though unaffected by the decadent atmosphere. "People are looking at you."
What kind of dive bars has Leia been hanging out in since she's unaffected by the deathsticks and et cetera being burnt in here? But I do appreciate it that it's not the dainty female hacking her lungs out.
Halla is a Force user, granted very weak and untrained. But given how angry Leia is at Luke just then (about to storm off again), I think Halla uses the Force on Leia when she's introduced.
"Hey honey... you okay?" a new voice inquired. Luke looked at the old woman who'd appeared next to the Princess. Placing a firm hand on the Princess' shoulder, she exerted a gentle but unyielding pressure. Still slightly stunned, the Princess sat down slowly.
Luke wouldn't know what to look for in this situation with his complete lack of training, but what else could defuse Leia that quickly?
What I Found Problematic
How the leads react to Mimbanites' abuse that happens right in front of them does bother me. Example One:
The big miner met this pitiful request by putting out a broad foot and kicking the native in the face. Luke winced and looked away. The Princess glanced at him.
"What's wrong, Luke?"
"I can't stand to see anything abused like that," he muttered, "human or animal or alien." He faced her curiously."How can you watch it?"
"I saw my whole world, several million people, destroyed," she responded with chilling matter-of-factness. "Nothing mankind does surprises me anymore, except that anyone could still be surprised by it." She turned her clinical gaze back to the scene at the bar.
Example Two:
Without further prompting the native dropped on its belly. An unexpectedly long, snake-like tongue darted out and began to lick the grime and mud from the man's boots.
"I'm going to be sick," Luke whispered, barely audible. The Princess merely shrugged.
"We have our devils and our angels, Luke. You have to be ready for both."
Wow, how callous can you make Leia sound? This is the same woman who befriended the Ewoks later? This is the same woman who championed alien rights in the Imperial Senate earning the nickname ‘Little Miss Inalienable Rights’? This abuse is making Luke empathically ill, but it should make Leia livid and put her on a quest to find the Mimbanites' hierarchy and pull them into the Rebellion against the Empire. She doesn't even come up with it as an option for Luke to shoot down. She doesn't even mention it as something else to tell the underground about what's happening on Mimban. Granted in the middle of the tavern is not the place to mention your allegiances, but it comes off callous instead of pragmatic.
The slap heard through the tavern; Jake Skywalker has taken Luke's place again. This whole set-up is an infuriating display of 1970's condonation of domestic violence against women. You have a woman of course you have to slap her to keep her in line, as Luke point blank says to the Imperial at the end. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's take the scene in order. The waiter, Elarles (new contender for the worst GFFA name) notices Leia's delicate hands and scurries to tattle. Leia points out the tattling to Luke.
"They do suspect!" she whispered tightly. She started to stand. "I've had enough, Luke. Let's get out of here."
"We can't rush off, especially if we're being watched," he countered. "Don't panic, Princess."
"I said I'm leaving, Luke." Nervous, she started to turn and leave.
First, I don't have a problem with the suspicious waiter turning them in and the Imperial scoping out the situation. Being found out is a standard complication for infiltrating a group. But who the hell is this woman freaking out and ready to run away? This is not Princess Leia Organa who lied to Darth Vader's mask maintaining her cover story. It didn't matter Vader had already pierced the cover story, but she sure the hell kept to it. Okay, these two haven't stopped and considered their cover story, but I expected whispering that we need a cover story not this that draws more attention to them.
Without realizing what he was doing, he reached out, slapped her hard across the face, and as heads turned in their direction said loudly, "No favors for you until I'm finished eating!"
One hand went to her burning cheek. Wide-eyed and voiceless, the Princess slowly sat back down. Luke frantically attacked his steak as the uniformed Imperial sauntered over to them, backed by the attendant at a discreet distance.
The only way this violence is justifiable from the HERO of the whole saga and protagonist of this novel is by agreeing that when women get emotional they deserved to be hit. I hope that Foster outgrew this misogynistic mindset by the time he was given the Force Awakens novelization. I think it's reprehensible and nothing Luke Skywalker as we know him would do. So he will not be hitting Mara to get out of this jam.
He thought furiously. "No, she's... uh, I bought her." Leia twitched, stared at him a moment before returning resolutely to her food. "Yes, she's a servant of mine. Spent all my earnings on her." He tried to sound indifferent, shrugged as he returned to his eating. "She's not much, of course." Her shoulders shook. "But she was the best I could afford. And she's kind of amusing to have around, though she tends to get out of line at times and I have to slap her down."
The bureaucrat nodded understandingly, smiled for the first time. "I sympathize, young man. Sorry to interrupt your meal."
I have made the argument that Luke is way more devious than the fandom gives him credit for, but this cover story doesn't make anybody look good. First the author because it looks like "servant" is just replacing "slave" without changing anything that makes slavery in this objectionable. There are other options for the cover story that could explain Leia's hands without using slavery. Second George Lucas because wow, you just couldn't wait to associate Leia with slavery. Third Luke Skywalker for not having any internal repugnance for owning people while selling the cover story. And no, I'm not basing that on the changes made to the Skywalker family history after this story was published; decent people should be horrified about owning people!
Alas this story was written before Leia was given Force sensitivity because Halla refuses to let her touch the fragment. "Touching it would prove nothing to you."
The mud wrestling: what are you IDIOTS DOING?! You are stuck on an Imperial-controlled planet and you both are wanted by the Empire with bounties. You have no fake identities beyond the miner outfits and just what credits Luke has left. So you do the stupidest, most childish thing you can think of? Both of these characters should be smarter than this. So Foster just wants to create a situation so these miners are a threat in the next chapter. That can happen without adolescent mud wrestling.
What Changes in My Fic
Mimbanites' abuse mini-scene is an opportunity to display some growth from Mara. Since she was raised on Coruscant in the Imperial Palace, the only contact she has had with aliens are the ones who have been subjugated as slaves or the ones trying to survive in the ghettoes created on Coruscant. Humans abuse aliens when they can is all she has seen. The equality in the Rebel Alliance ranks is a cultural shock she is soldiering through in her endearing Mara way (which probably isn't helping her reputation any), but Luke's reaction to the abuse puts her perspective in a different light. Actually that may be the best way to sum up their relationship. It gives Luke's empathy something to play off without making Mara callous, like the scene currently does with Leia.
Luke and Mara's cover story won't involve slavery.
Threatening miners will be threatening without being titillated by a mud-covered Leia.
We now have more scenes to fill out the plot events for the first act. Helping Writers Become Authors further explains this breakdown.
Hook 1% mark = Crashing onto Mimban
Set-up 1% - 12%
Inciting Event 12% mark = Finding the Imperial mining outpost
Build-up 12% - 25%
1st Plot Point 25% mark = Luke and Leia agree to find the Kaiburr crystal with Halla
#rescue the farmboy au#star wars legends#splinter of the mind's eye#literary analysis#reference notes#mission on mimban#fanfic friday
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Tomorrow is Yesterday
Air Date: January 26, 1967
Writer: D.C. Fontana
Director: Michael O’Herlihy
I want to start off by saying that I fucking love time travel. I love alternate/parallel universes, I love Q episodes, I love crossovers, I love Klingons, and I love all the crazy sci-fi stuff that Star Trek pioneered.
I did not particularly care for this episode. No, it wasn’t a boring pile of action like Arena, but it was a dull episode about some guy from 1967 getting trapped on the Enterprise and Kirk has to go steal some evidence.
Tomorrow is Yesterday starts off by showing us a jet scramble at a contemporary (for 1967) audiences and the Enterprise against a blue sky - a new and exciting image that I found very pleasant.
Apparently the Enterprise went too close to a black hole (which is called a “black star of high gravitational attraction”) and hit a time warp back in time; somehow this puts them over Earth...1967 (or 1966, whenever it was produced - likely in 1966.) The engines and power systems need some time to recover, but nobody is dead...and the Enterprise has a jet on its tail.
Interestingly, Star Trek predicts the moon landing as being in the ‘late 1960s’ - the date of the moon landing was July 20th, 1969 (a proud moment for all humankind.) Less interestingly, Captain Christopher’s son is said to head the first Earth-Saturn probe (presumably in the 1980s or 1990s) - all we’ve got so far is the ISS in orbit (another proud achievement for all humankind anyways.)
So the conflict of this episode is that they beam a pilot aboard after their tractor beam breaks up his jet - now what the hell kind of force does the beam exert, anyway? Is it like a clamping jet that crushes anything not made of cast rodinium? In that case they should have kept the NX-01′s grappling hook throughout the development of later Starfleet vessels. I guess they just rely on the transporter if one crewmen gets blown out the airlock - or more likely, give them up for dead.
Moving on.
They transport the captain on the ship, and he immediately pops off with name, rank, and serial number all bug-eyed. He’s shocked to see Kirk is a human, speaks english, and has a normal all-American name like James T. Kirk. Well, he is from Iowa, after all.
Kirk is fairly hospitable and brings Captain Primitive to the bridge. On the way he guffaws at a female crewman like “A WOMAN ON A SPACESHIP?” It’s one of the best glimpses into the attitudes of the 60s.
What’s next - a black woman, an asian man, and an alien in the command center?!
Captain Chris is impressed by the ship - when he was flying towards it he saw that it was pretty massive, and indeed it is quite the behemoth at 947 feet long (the current USS Enterprise (CVN-65) is 1,122 feet long), 416 feet wide, and 238 feet tall. My house is like 12 feet floor to the peak of the roof. Kirk informs him that there are only 12 like them, which seems like a small number for Starfleet but hey, it was early in the franchise history. UESPA and Starfleet are both mentioned in this episode, though.
Chris looks at Spock like he’s an alien, but I just don’t get it - I mean, back in the 60s, most audiences just getting television and seeing things they never had before, maybe the pointed ears and eyebrows and bangs seemed genuinely alien...but that’s really the only difference between Spock and a human on the surface. I’d be more inclined to buy his shock if Spock were blue and had antennae coming out of his head.
“What are you looking at...pink-skin?”
I’m really surprised Captain Wash-Out doesn’t look at Uhura like “A BLACK PERSON ON THE BRIDGE? WHAAAA?” or “A WOMAN ON THE BRIDGE? WHAAAA?” because part of the problem they had with The Cage was nobody was comfortable with a woman on the bridge in a command position - and while Uhura may be the communications officer, she’s still an officer and presumably still has a higher position of authority over much of the crew. (43 officers, the rest enlisted crewmen. Uhura is 1 of those 43 officers who attended the Academy.)
I wonder what contemporary audiences thought of their silent interaction?
The initial conundrum is that Spock can’t let Kirk have Captain Chris go all Biff Tannen with the timeline, and therefore they have to keep him. Then again, if they get back to their time he won’t really fit as a throwback. Chris does not want this, and he argues that NOT sending him back will affect the timeline - to which Spock responds that he’s already space-googled him and found out he’s not important at all.
"Did he fart or is that the smell of his ego shattering?”
Chris wants to do his duty: report back to base, get home to a hot supper from his picture perfect housewife and 2.5 kid nuclear family. Then there’s another problem - the Enterprise is still stuck in 1967, and they can’t really go anywhere. I mean, what if another Vulcan survey ship passes through the system (ala Carbon Creek)? They can’t exactly risk going into outer space and contaminating the timeline.
Friendly reminder that this guy is still hanging out in Pennsylvania during this episode
Chris tries to escape and Kirk drops him. Bones brings up the obvious predicament if they can’t get home - imagine the damage a Riley can do to the timeline?
This but with a nuclear submarine off the coast of New York and a tab of LSD - it was that time, after all
So Spock shows up and mentions he forgot to include Chris’ descendants in his google search and hey, what do you know, his son heads the mission to Saturn!
The news is music to the captain’s ears - but now they have to break into the base and get evidence of the Enterprise out and destroy the captain’s credibility so that he’ll become a despondent alcoholic after his career is ruined and spur his son into becoming an astronaut so he can go to Saturn and finally measure up in his father’s eyes. Okay, only part of that is real.
Kirk and Sulu are the ones who beam down, and Sulu is positively delighted to be part of a mission to an authentic 20th century military installation - after all, he did fetishize that old gun in Shore Leave and has a fencing hobby.
"Captain, look! An old-style message array!”
Meanwhile, Spock does temporal equations in his head and Bones experiences mild anxiety.
Kirk and Sulu pull some tapes out of an ancient (even by modern standards) tape-reading computer and then they get caught by base police, leading to this hilarious image:
“D-did the south rise again?”
The guy is in such incredible shock he spends most of the episode standing there.
Anyways, Kirk gets caught (Sulu beams out) and acts like a smartass with the base police. The boys up top figure out how to get him back, Chris makes a bad attempt at betrayal, and the army cop on the ship is still in shock.
At this point I think the chief was just fucking with him
To finish the episode, Spock and Scotty figure the old slingshot-around-the-sun maneuver is just the trick to initiate a time warp, beam Chris and the cop back to where they belong (and erasing their memories to boot) and manage to get back to their own time. There’s a lot of technobabble involved, but that’s the gist of it.
This is the first time they use the slingshot maneuver to go back in time. I wonder why they didn’t use the matter/antimatter intermix from The Naked Time? Well it turns out this episode was to be the second part of a two-parter with The Naked Time as its first part, and the time warp they entered in that episode is what shoots them back in the past of this episode. In retrospect, if you ignore the black star exposition it still works pretty well; canonically, however, this episode is roughly 6 months after The Naked Time.
When they get back they are hailed by Starfleet control; a happy ending for our crew.
This episode was written by D.C. Fontana, a rare female television writer from in the early era of television. Dorothy also wrote Charlie X and has credits on 8 more TOS episodes, TAS Yesteryear, 5 TNG episodes, and the DS9 episode Dax. Notable episodes she penned (or helped pen) include The Enterprise Incident, Journey to Babel, and Encounter at Farpoint. To me, she’s hit and miss, like Gene L. Coon (who wrote my least-favorite episode thus far yet also penned the upcoming The Devil in the Dark), but there’s one thing I agree with her on - Deep Space 9 was her favorite Star Trek spin-off because it had the best character development, and that’s exactly why I love that of all Star Trek series the most.
I actually forgot to mention the sexy-voice computer! So what, Starfleet’s computer systems come from Signet 14, a planet of women? Or did they mean they got it updated at Signet 14 and the sultry voice was a prank by the Signetians? Either way, Kirk did not appreciate it and it was pretty funny.
Rating: 2/5; Don’t Rewatch
Tomorrow is Yesterday is a boring episode that doesn’t have much going on. While it doesn’t mishandle action like Arena, it lacks the interesting events of an average episode like Miri, and there’s nothing in the episode worth sticking around for.
#star trek#Star Trek: The Original Series#TOS#captain kirk#tomorrow is yesterday#ashroadtrek#d.c. fontana
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