#and she keeps refusing to the end

[this-is-a-name-dont-worry]

god i need to hug henry SO BAD

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Scenecore Mabel and Teenage Dirtbag Dipper because I can

LOOSELY based on this. So loosely, if it were pants you wouldn’t even be able to use a belt to keep it up.

[festeringfae]

It's so unfathomable to me when Juri is referred to as a "tragic lesbian" or an "angsty lesbian" (referring to her role in the narrative.) The word "miracle" is used synonymously with "hope for fulfillment." Meaning: the girl's entire ARC is her angrily insisting that there's no hope for her ever being fulfilled because she's a lesbian, and the narrative going trolol every time she attempts to prove it. It fucking RULES.

They dangle every lesophobic trope known in media history in front of this girl's face, and every time she or the audience starts to accept it, the narrative subverts it so hard that the impact is still reverberating to this day.

Juri Arisugawa stays up every night trying to convince herself that she is a scary monster everyone hates in love with a straight girl whom she should be platonically nicer to, and every day the narrative says "sorry, no 🙃 you're really popular and everyone likes you 🙃 including the not-at-all straight girl you're actually already way too compassionate towards, because you're too good for her 🙃🙃 sorry queen but you're not the villain of this story 🙃🙃🙃 you're still in your coffin but in the exact same way as everyone else, no fridging allowed 🙃🙃🙃🙃"

[too-many-paper-cranes]

fun fact: in the room before the second hornet fight, the game doesn't unload her sprite after she runs off screen, so she just keeps running in the direction she left out of bounds, forever!

[qdkdraws]

misses her trash boyfriend

[beanghostprincess]

Actually thinking more about Reiju's only sin being a woman and... Going into more depth, I know that logically/canonically she's smart and empathetic enough to not want to be in her brothers' place. She doesn't want to be an heir/ successor or follow the family's footsteps at all. She knows they're bad. She sees herself as such, too, unable to change/be different like Sanji was. She doesn't think she can bring her mother's kindness to this world the way Sanji does, so she sticks to what she knows, whether it is to protect Sanji too or to accept her fate.

BUT (and bear with me for a second here, I know I have been watching too much Succession lately) we also do know that during her childhood she didn't do anything to help Sanji from the abuse. She watched it happen because that was the way things went there and because she knew what would happen to her if she did. Of course, she ends up helping him escape and taking care of him but-- I'm just thinking, for a tiny little moment, about how she's actually the oldest.

She should be the heir. She should be the person everybody views Ichiji as. She should be considered the most responsible. The smartest. The strongest one. The one who should take the throne. And she doesn't even want it now, but what about back then? What about when she did have some little, tiny faith/hopes for her family and what they did? She sought approval and naively thought "my father is going to offer me the place I rightfully deserve, right?" blindly seeking acceptance like all of them did.

But no, because she might be the oldest but Ichiji is a man. She might be the strongest, the smartest, the most reliable... But she is not a man. And I believe there must have been a time when she expected her destiny to be something more, and once she realized she was just a woman in their eyes... Well, we know what happened.

I just keep finding similarities between The Vinsmokes (OP) and The Roys (Succession) and perhaps my headcanon of Reiju being similar to Shiv has gone a bit too far. But the scene where Shiv is like "This is real?" when Logan promises she'll be the CEO and he goes "This is real. Remember this. The slant of light" for it to be a lie later is something I fear could have happened with Reiju and Judge if Oda had given us more content,,,,

[oneluckydragon]

"Suddenly the world was gray and dull and my heart was so heavy I felt like I couldn’t move, let alone make it back to Treasure Town. But because of Echo’s last wish… I was able to keep living.”

--- --- --- --- ---

SORA : (Partner)

Abilities: Justified / Inner Focus

Nature: Gentle / Hardy

Moveset: Aura Sphere / Metal Claw / Poison Jab / Dragon Pulse

[red-winter-is-coming]

The reasoning behind the Masterminds.

(or, a post I was suppose to make hours earlier but got distracted, explaining Why The Fuck Eight People are second-round Masterminds in an AU)

This will be very.... fic like? Because I feel like it flows better that way!

@smol-creecher anything to add? I'm LOVING your imputs :D

-------------

It wasn't like this was their first choice, being told to run a killing game. Really, they didn't know what they were signing up for until it was far too late.

XF-Ture Tech approached them, one at a time. They were vulnerable, grieving the death of their classmate, the one who held them together.

They were offered something they wanted so desperately in their heart, that they signed a contract, signing their soul away for any one favor of XF-Ture's choosing.

They looked at Min, their prize student, the one who they could easily convince with one conversation: 'If you do this for us, you can be free. We'll find you a well paying job, one you can pick out, doesn't that sound nice?'

They found Rose, lost in her rotten world. 'We can get you out of here, give you your freedom back, get you home, if only you sign this paper.'

Eden and Whit, perhaps two of the kindest in their class left, were offered a very simple deal: 'Do you want a distraction from Mai?'

They tracked David down, giving an offer he wouldn't refuse. 'Come with us, and you will never need to keep up this front again.'

Charles, ever the loner, was offered a deal more simple then the others. 'Give us one favor, and we'll net you a high paying and comfortable job, and all the answers you're seeking.'

Ace and J, stuck in their own lives, wishing to get free, were offered just that. 'Come with us, and we'll get you out of there. Come with us, and you won't need to bother with your mother, or your job ever again.'

Stupid deals to make? In hindsight, yes. But they were nineteen years old, and mourning one of the few good people they ever knew.

They really should've said no.

The first few weeks were fine, amazing, even. They got warm food, a place to sleep, and they had each other for company. They spent their days exploring the huge building XF-Ture kept them in, as they found new hobbies to pass the time.

Then, they were called in to redeem the favor.

Run a death game until only you are left, XF-Ture told them, Run these games perfectly for freedom.

Really, had they all been together, instead of leading separate games, maybe they would've succeeded. Certainly, things like Charles almost getting brained after the second trial, or J's most hidden secret getting out to the worst person, wouldn't have happened.

They excuse their failure to kill their remaining classmate as weakness. They say it was too soon after Mai.

They couldn't let XF-Ture know how much most of them cared for the classmate in their group.

In the end, all of them defied their one final order: Kill everyone else in the game.

Failure meant death, and they were walking closer towards it at every moment.

So, when the higher executives came to them, and told them to fix their mistake of leaving people alive, they asked for one more chance. A chance where they'll be killed at the end, if they even make it there. Maybe, just maybe, with a little more time, and the ability to plan together, they'll find a way out.

Sure, things aren't going... as smoothly as planned. Nico's memory wipe didn't work, so now they're onto Ace. Rose is struggling to do anything, David has started arguments with everybody & has a HUGE target on his back, Min lost a hand, and Charles is worried about what the survivors might do.

But they bounced back before, and they'll bounce back again. (provided that Charles doesn't die, then they'll be fine. Whit's one of the glues holding them together and if his one lifeline gets cut, it'll spiral from there.)

[landoffreaksandfrogs]

the summoner hesitates.

[fyreinhell]

everytime i look in the lilith tag I see so much hate and antagonism for her, like my god. we barely know much about her but some people are just desperate to hate on her while woobifying male characters and I can think of one word why.

[avirxy]

beauty and beast au but Claire’s the one cursed because she’s the only one I can see literally pissing a sorceress off enough to get cursed. (If we’re going off the original movie Jim would probably offer them a hot meal and a room for the night, knowing him he’d make everything super accommodating)

[mihai-florescu]

"If Naru wasnt in Knights she'd be in Ra*bits!" bbyg if Naru wasnt in Knights she wouldnt be an idol at all

[razzle-zazzle]

Whumptober Day 09: Obsession

"Pin me up on your wall just to keep me out of trouble"

2898 Words; Spiritshipping AU

TW for mentioned death, mentioned suicide

AO3 ver

There was a new ghost in the Cursed Realm.

Not that that was anything noteworthy—new ghosts popped up, well, not exactly often, since most of them went to the Departed Realm or got stuck wherever they died—but it wasn’t just the violent and the damned who ended up here, either. Any ghost with enough turmoil in their hearts was barred from the Departed Realm, and if they weren’t strong enough to stick around in the land of the living, they ended up here. Of course, warriors that fell in battle had a tendency to go to the Underworld and become Skulkins instead, but those souls never became ghosts and the Cursed Realm did not accept Skulkins.

Whatever. The point was that Morro normally didn’t care who ended up in the Cursed Realm—he wasn’t the warden or the nanny or whatever. He had his group, and he had better things to do than greet the newly dead.

But the Mother had pointed out this new ghost to him, and while she hadn’t actually compelled Morro to go find this new ghost just pointing them out was enough of a hint. So here Morro was, picking through the wastes where new ghosts tended to show up, because it wasn’t like there was much else he could do. There was no way out of the Cursed Realm—

(Yet, the Mother had crooned, tendrils creeping through Morro’s soul like breezes flitting through trees—)

And Morro was one of the few spirits here not locked in some kind of eternal suffering, so he had time to kill.

Time he wouldn’t have had if he had never gone in that cave and twisted his ankle—

Morro shook his head. It was fine. So what if destiny had turned its back on him? He wouldn’t be bound to it.

There.

Morro followed the pull of the Mother’s voice, his gaze tracking to the ghost sitting down in a dip in the ground, leaning against what might have been a rock in a realm that wasn’t the Cursed Realm.

They were smaller than Morro expected, curled up against the rock. Quieter, too. Most ghosts tended to freak out when they first arrived—either at realizing they had died or where they ended up—but this one was just… sitting there.

Morro frowned. Why would the Mother point this out to him? He knew she was leading him to a conclusion or action, but what was she trying to lead him to?

Morro came to a stop next to the figure, his feet grazing the ground before he landed fully. They—no, wait, it looked like a he, and the tiny bit of the Mother still lingering in Morro’s chest seemed to agree—didn’t do anything to acknowledge Morro’s presence, so Morro took a moment to just… look at him. He was young, his build bulkier than Morro’s, dark hair falling over his eyes in a way that looked unkempt. Morro couldn’t see any signs of what had killed him—was it something that didn’t leave an obvious mark, or had he figured out how to hide it already? Morro didn’t recognize his clothes—it looked like a school uniform, maybe?

Ugh—enough standing around! Morro kicked out, not quite hitting the boy with his foot while the wind picked up to ruffle his hair. “Hey, newbie.”

The boy’s gaze slid over to Morro, though his expression didn’t change. He grunted, which Morro figured was as close to a greeting as he’d get.

“Why’re you just sitting around?” Morro scoffed, “Is the Cursed Realm not exciting enough for you?” He leaned in and poked the other ghost in the side.

“Go away.” The boy mumbled, burying his face in his knees. Not that that really did anything, when Morro could still see the glow of his eyes through his knees.

Morro scoffed, leaning in closer—

Patience, sweet Zephyr.

Morro scowled, but pulled back. The Mother knew what she was doing.

“Fine, then.” He muttered, turning around. “Stay and rot here, for all I care.” With that, he left. It didn’t matter to him what some random ghost was doing—he’d find something else to do.

+=+=+=+=+

The ghost boy was still sitting there when Morro returned later—had he moved at all? Probably not. He didn’t exactly have a body—sitting in one place for eternity couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Morro landed beside him, and the boy’s gaze tracked over to him. That was the only greeting Morro was offered, though.

“Soooo are you ever gonna do anything interesting?” Morro asked, scuffing his feet on the ground.

No response. Morro rolled his eyes, hopping up into the air to float over the kid. Fine then, he could wait. The Mother insisted that this ghost was important, so here Morro was, waiting for something interesting to happen.

But the boy remained still—

(Still, like the golden weapons Wu had all but promised would glow in Morro’s presence, because he was meant to be the Green Ninja—up until destiny decided fuck Morro and Wu nodded his head and went along with it. Still, like the stagnant air of the Caves of Despair, too heavy and cut off to carry Morro’s attempts to free himself—because oh, yeah, fuck Morro!)

Morro scowled. He rolled over, lying face up in the air, resolutely ignoring the ghost sitting below him. The ghost ignored him back; Morro had half a mind to just leave.

Patience, sweet Zephyr.

Yeah yeah, Morro flicked his hand, eddies of wind ruffling his clothes and hair. The Mother wanted him to stick around? Fine. It wasn’t like he was needed somewhere else.

They continued to ignore each other for a long while.

+=+=+=+=+

Morro was laying on the ground, his head behind the other ghost’s back. Dust floated above his fingers, dancing in the air spiraling around Morro’s hands. Thoughts floated through his head—mostly memories about his life leading up to his death. Frustration ground its heel against his sternum as Wu’s face flashed through his mind—he’d done everything the old man had asked of him, he’d conquered every challenge and test in a way that no other student could, he’d so clearly been the one—

And yet destiny had still turned her back on him. And so had Wu, the coward—

(But Wu had given Morro clothes and shelter and food and training, he had lead Morro through the motions and taught him so much—)

Morro groaned, covering his face with his hands and slamming his heels against the dirt. After a moment, he turned his head to look at the other ghost, sitting up so he could poke the other ghost in the back. “Hey.”

Morro needed a distraction. He needed something to do—and hadn’t the Mother told him to talk to this lameass ghost? So he might as well start talking. “Heyyy.” Another poke. The other ghost’s shoulders hunched slightly.

“Oh, yeah,” Morro had never really… introduced himself, had he? “I’m Morro, by the way. The Green Ninja.” And the Master of Wind, but that probably wouldn’t mean anything to the other ghost.

Silence.

Morro huffed. “Okay, whatever, keep ignoring me.” He glared at the back of the ghost’s head. “Rude.”

“Cole.” The other ghost said softly. “My name’s Cole.”

“What, like the rock?” This kid’s parents must have hated him; coal was dirty and dark and dusty. Or maybe the kid didn’t have parents, like Morro, and had picked his name himself when he was young and stupid enough to think it sounded cool.

Cole turned to stare at Morro—his whole upper body twisting around, arm unhooking from his knees to rest on the ground as he stared over his shoulder at Morro, brows drawn. “No, like the name.” He said, sounding horribly unimpressed.

It was the most animated Morro had seen him. “So you can move,” he pointed out, feeling smug. He’d done that! He’d gotten this useless brick to say something more than a few grumbles! Because of course he did—it didn’t matter what it was, Morro would never settle for anything less than being the best.

Cole continued to stare at him, expression unchanging. “Ugh, whatever.” He turned back around, leaning against the rock, but his hand remained on the ground instead of pulling back to wrap around his legs. “Just leave me alone.”

Do not do that, Zephyr.

The Mother’s response was so immediate, crawling over Morro like so many buzzing flies. His shoulders hunched. He wasn’t going to, dammit, but thanks for the reminder.

The silence stretched on.

+=+=+=+=+

“What do you even want from me, anyway?” Cole asked, having turned so that his back was leaning against the not-quite-a-rock, legs still folded in front of him.

“Depends.” Morro replied breezily, from where he was floating in the air, arms folded back behind his head as he reclined. “You got anything to give?”

Cole stared at him for a long moment. The marks around his eyes resembled tear tracks, Morro had noticed. Which probably explained why he spent most of his time sitting around like a very morose rock. Then, “Probably not.” His chin rested on his knees, head tilting as he regarded Morro. “Unless you like theatre.”

Oooo, that was a lot of words. Progress! Morro sat up, still floating, criss-crossing his legs and putting his hands on his knees. “You’re an actor?” Was that why the Mother was so insistent on Morro talking to him? Because he could lie convincingly? Pssh, Morro could definitely lie way better.

Cole snorted. “Dancer, actually.” His expression darkened. “Well, I used to be.”

Morro shrugged. “Ghosts don’t lose the skills they’ve learned in life, you know.” He pointed out. “Part of the whole dead and unchanging thing. You can still dance.”

“Don’t wanna.” Cole muttered, bringing his arms up to wrap around his legs.

He needs to dance, Zephyr.

Morro could think of a few ways to force Cole to “dance.” None of them were what the Mother was talking about, though. He floated down, thinking hard. Was Cole meant to have been some great dancer, only to have it all cut short? Did destiny turn her back on him, too?

“Were you any good?” Morro asked, more to fill the silence than anything.

Cole stared at him. “Everyone else said so.” He said, which probably said a lot about whatever he’d had going on in life that Morro was too disinterested to really think about.

Well, Morro did need to get Cole to dance. “I bet you’re terrible.” Morro challenged. “I bet you’re so bad that you died from embarrassment.”

Cole glared at Morro, unimpressed.

“Go ahead, then, and prove me wrong.” Morro offered, smirking. “Unless you can’t, because you really are terrible—”

“You’re really blatant, you know that?” Cole’s voice was sharp, sharper than Morro had heard from him. Blank green eyes bored into Morro, face pinched in frustration. “I’m not going to dance for you just because you said some pretty words, dumbass—I’m not dancing ever again!” He slumped back, all of the prior energy leaving him as he buried his face in his knees with a sound bordering on a sob.

“Just leave me alone.” Cole urged, face still buried. “What do you even want from me.”

“I’m really only here because the Mother told me you’d be important.” Morro admitted. He couldn’t care less if some new ghost decided they wanted to spend eternity rotting in their memories.

Cole lifted his head and stared blankly.

“You know, the Mother?” Morro swept his arm back to gesture roughly in the direction of the center of the realm. “The giant primordial preeminent holding this whole realm together?” He crossed his arms. “I know she’s been talking to you, too, I can feel it.”

“Oh.” Recognition flashed in Cole’s eyes. “That.”

He didn’t say anything else, despite Morro’s efforts.

+=+=+=+=+

“So why are you even in the Cursed Realm anyway?” Morro asked. He didn’t quite care how rude it was, to allude to another ghost’s death—it wasn’t like he owed Cole any politeness, anyway. “We don’t usually get,” he gestured vaguely towards Cole, searching for the right word before settling on, “dancers.”

Cole stared at Morro for a long moment. “Because I killed myself?” He asked, voice dry and blunt as a rock.

“You—huh.” Well. That would explain why Cole was in the Cursed Realm. “So you were so embarrassed by your awful dancing that you died.” Morro said—only to immediately regret it. Really?

Zephyr…

Even the Mother felt disappointed, rot creeping along Morro’s arm.

“Whatever.” Cole mumbled, curling in on himself. “Think whatever you want, Morro. I don’t care.”

Okay. Morro called the wind to his hands, using it to scoop up some dust and dirt from the ground to tumble between his hands. Well, that certainly explained why Cole had barely moved at all. Morro thought to his own death, to the slow decay of his own body as he was still in it. He had managed to stave off dehydration for a few days thanks to water trickling down the cave walls—

But death had still come for him in the end. His nonexistent stomach hurt at the memory of starvation clawing at his body.

But Morro had tried so hard—he had never meant to die. He’d wanted to live, because he needed to get out of those caves alive and find the First Master’s tomb if he wanted to prove destiny wrong, prove that he was worthy—

Morro swung his hand around, flinging a sharp gale at the ground to his side. The rush of air blasted a divot into the ground.

Destiny had turned her back on Morro, casting him away from all that he had rightfully deserved and worked so hard for—

But destiny hadn’t turned her back on Cole. No, Cole had turned his back on her. That was cool as hell, actually. Morro said as much, and Cole stared at him, eyes wide with quiet disbelief.

“So I doomed myself to being stuck with you.” Cole groused. “Great.”

Morro barked out a laugh. “I’m not having fun babysitting you, either!” He giggled, “You threw away your destiny and doomed us both to an eternity of sitting here while you rot!” There was nothing funny about this, about Morro sitting here waiting for Cole to stop being useless—but Morro laughed anyway, winds swirling around him.

Cole stood so suddenly that Morro floated backwards in surprise. “Then why don’t you just leave?” He snarled, swinging a hand around as though he was about to punch Morro—

A bit of the ground broke off and smacked Morro right in the face. Cole faltered, surprised, as Morro tumbled backwards and down onto the ground.

“Oh.” Morro said weakly. He’d only met her briefly, before setting out to prove himself in the wake of destiny’s rejection. She had been a girl, then, one of Wu’s newest students, young and rowdy and flinging mud and rocks how she pleased. Though even if he hadn’t met Lilly, Morro still knew about the other elements, about the all-important Elements of Creation. Wu rarely hid anything from Morro in his lessons. “I get it.”

“I…” Cole was staring at his hands like he’d never seen them before. “Did I do that?”

Morro sat up. “Of course you did, dumbass.” He stood, grabbing Cole’s hands to look at them. “You’re an elemental master.” Apparently. “Fuck, you look like her, how didn’t I notice that?” Sure, he had only known Lilly for a few days, but the resemblance was strong—she and Cole were definitely related. How, Morro didn’t know or care—what mattered was that Cole was—or was going to be—the latest Master of Earth.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Cole yanked his hands back. “I look like who?” His whole posture screamed defensive, and Morro scowled.

“Lilly.” If that was actually her name and Morro wasn’t misremembering it. “You look like one of the students my master took in before I—” He swallowed, suddenly very aware of how much a lot of his memories stung— “left.”

Cole backed up, eyebrow raised. “You did not meet my mother.” He accused. His shoulders hunched, and Morro felt something shift beneath his feet.

“Yeah I did.” Morro shot back, “barely.” He added.

The Mother must have spoken, then, because all of Cole’s vitriol melted away suddenly, shock and something sickeningly close to hope replacing the disbelief. “You—” He cut himself off.

“Look.” Morro stepped forwards, offering his hand before thinking better of it. “We don’t like each other. We barely know each other! But the Mother wants us to work together,” He almost slung his arm around Cole’s shoulders before pulling back, “And you’ve got nothing better to do. So why don’t you quit all this useless moping, and let me,” he summoned the winds to emphasize his point, swirling them and the dust they carried around his hands, “show you what being an elemental master is all about.”

Cole looked at Morro’s hand dubiously, arms crossed. “And what do you get out of it?”

Morro smirked. “Something more interesting than watching you rot.”

Cole snorted. He stared at Morro’s hand for a long moment—Morro made the winds swirl in intricate knotted loops, the dust outlining the complex path—then sighed. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.” He said, reaching out his own hand.

Morro dispelled the winds and took Cole’s hand. “Welcome to the Cursed Realm, newbie.”

[trainingdummyrabbit]

oh so the girlie who hates humans as a concept begins idolizing creatures that are literally fragments of the collective human psyche? okaaaaaaaay. 🙄

[theadventurek9]

My week has finished out with more just bleh feelings about training. Just a pity party down below so nothing important

I am stopping doing any training on retrieves with Ryker. I will give him a month or so off and see if I can start it again after, if not maybe it will have to wait until he gets out of adolescence. He shuts down the moment I grab the dumbbell or the PVC I had been using, or if I say "take it".

He is really really handler sensitive. Which is a bit surprising and I am really going to have to learn to adapt. Aayla is a little handler sensitive, but not like this. It makes things so frustrating and then I spiral down and things are just hard.

I think this is getting compounded by the fact that I'm seriously debating retired Aayla from obedience. Her avoidance to sitting at the last trial just has me worried about her hips. She DOES do no-sits when feeling stressed or there is too much pressure. Which the judges were doing a lot of pressure during the whole weekend. Yet the amount she was refusing to sit was embarrassing and has me worried its physical pain versus stress.

We got 0 utility Qs and therefore 0 UDX legs and her two qualifying open runs had such poor scores she got 0 OM points. The whole weekend did not progress her to those titles I want her to have...and I would like to retired her from AKC sooner than later. Maybe I should just give up. Getting her UD was amazing and she has had fantastic runs, but I am not going to trial her for two more years to get those titles.

I also decided Aayla will not do anymore agility. I had thought maybe the ASCA senior ACE program would be okay, but if she is struggling in obedience there is no way I'm making her do any agility.

I always thought I would go back to AKC rally after I stopped having her jump 20" for obedience but if sitting is bothering her than rally isn't fair for her to do either. That's a lot more sitting.

She isn't ready to retire from training or sports, I know it. She is getting upset more and more if I don't work her when I'm working Ryker but I'm getting to this point of what can I have her do that isn't asking her to do things that possibly hurt? Do I work her because it makes her happy and accept if she says no? Will she say no? I doubt it, unless it really hurts.

I'm going to be taking her into the vet within the next few weeks, might get some hip x-rays and ask about adequan and anything else we can maybe do.

I hate this. So much. It's breaking my heart. I worry that her body is going to give out on her long before her mind is.

[coffeebanana]

🐕‍🦺for the summary

A drunken game of Twister somehow lands Marinette in Adrien's bed. And there's cuddling. The sort that feels like maybe it's leading to something a little less than platonic. So when an Akuma interrupts the fun, Marinette is NOT about to let Hawk Moth win. Not tonight. This would have been a lot easier if she'd remembered to transform.

"Come on, Adrien." She yanked his hand harder as they raced down the stairs. This would have been so much easier if she could just carry him, but superpowers or not, she didn't exactly trust her coordination right now. "We just need to get to the--fuck!"

Skidding to a stop on the landing between the second floor and the lobby, Marinette stared in horror at the purple smoke that was already creeping through the cracks around the door below. They'd been too slow. It was time for plan B.

Letting go of Adrien's hand (regretfully), she reached for the yo-yo hooked to her--wait. why was it in a pocket? Why did her suit have pockets?

Well, probably for the same reason her transformation had given her a fuzzy onesie and slippers in the place of her usual transformation. Tikki must have been affected by her drunkenness.

None of that mattered so long as she could still do her job and get Adrien to safety. Smoke was quickly filling the landing below, but it hadn't yet reached the hole in the middle of the staircase, which extended to the parking lot floors below. All they had to do was drop down there and they'd be able to find a new exit.

Marinette tossed her yo-yo towards the bannister, frowning as she watched it in midflight. Even her weapon didn't look the way it usually did. It was red, sure. But it lacked its usual spots. And as for ease of handling...it crashed to the floor half a metre away from its destination.

Ugh. Apparently she was going to have to do this the hard way. She bent down to pick up the yo-yo, and was about manually wrap it around the bannister when Adrien grabbed her wrist.

"Marinette, I'm not sure--" Adrien broke off when she whirrled around to face him.

"Adrien, I know you're scared."

"Oh. I'm not actually--"

"But you have nothing to worry about. You're safe with me." She stepped closer, raising a hand to cup his cheek. She had to keep herself from licking her lips at the tiny gasp he let out. There would be time to explore whatever that meant later. "You're always safe with me."

His gaze softened, and he gave a small chuckle. "And normally, I wouldn't doubt that. But..."

Marinette dropped her hand, frowning. Why was there a but? She was freaking Ladybug! And even if she weren't, she'd still find his lack of faith insulting.

He certainly hadn't looked at her that way earlier, when she'd had to crawl underneath him to place her right hand on green.

...

thanks for the ask!! 💜