#but also them sticking by your side despite their anger is validation they still want you around

[daz4i]

gotta add to the list of similarities between dazai and nikolai. they're both annoying (as a love language)

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 25

The Darkling x Reader

The black kefta hung from the tent hook elegantly, its blue thread glistening in the rays of the morning sun. The night had been swept away from you in the blink of an eye with the bright light peeking into the tent like an unwelcome guest. The big bed was also empty, Aleksander's side cold and vacant with no trace of his signature warmth. His scent still lingered though, the thick sheet soaking in his presence as much as you.

The kefta felt particularly heavy as you lifted it around your shoulders and clasped its belt around your waist. You would be boarding the skiff any minute now ready to play along with whatever plan Aleksander had. Truth be told, you would follow him to the ends of the earth and back. He was your silent stone to lean on, the shoulder you wanted to cry on. His company brought comfort and security to you that nobody else had ever given you, not your parents or siblings, nobody. Whether that be plainly down to Merzost or your love for him, you didn't know and didn't care.

'promise me you'll run and hide'

Aleksander wasn't selfless or humanitarian, he always put his life goal ahead of everyone, ahead of you. But this time he was begging you to run, to save yourself if something happened. But what could possibly happen on the skiff of all places? The words were meant to be reassuring no doubt, but they felt like a goodbye and that hurt. It's just a normal skiff journey to Novokribirsk you kept telling yourself despite that daunting dread pooling in your stomach.

Alina had arrived not long ago, his signature black carriage carrying the cuffed Sun-Summoner and bringing her to her tent. You hadn't yet had time to see her, so now you walked with determined haste, ready to give her a piece of your mind as you whipped the tent flap opened.

She stood dressed in a black gown still void of a black kefta no doubt, her hair neatly styled in a regal updo with glittering jewels hanging from a golden chain. But that wasn't what caught your eye, it was the Stag antler sticking out from her collarbone, the skin red and irritated. Her usually expressive face was blank, no emotion visible on her pale skin. Despite her state, you could basically feel the buzz of her power from where you stood. The amplifier was doing its job.

Her eyes found yours with a sharp glare and anger flooded her whole being. With her quick demeanor change came the clenching of her fists and a slight spark of light, small and pathetic you thought, does she not have an amplifier?

'You betrayed me' She stood up and took a couple steps towards you so you did the same, coming face to face with the living saint.

'I did no such thing. Now sit down before you hurt yourself' You seethed and she faltered, sitting down with a defeated sigh.

'Are you here to take my light too like he did? I'm sure there's enough to go around.... you know if you'd have asked me and told me everything then this never would have happened.'

'What are you talking about Alina?' Your angry expression shifted into one of slight confusion at her words.

'Don't act like you didn't know. I know you're not innocent, Baghra told me as much.'

'Don't listen to a word that wrench says.'

'Then who can I trust? Huh? You? Aleksander?' She threw her hands up in desperation and leaned her head back against the wall. ''I can't trust anyone, only Mal....but his life is being held over my head like a bargaining chip.' Her voice broke toward the end of the sentence but she recovered, squaring her shoulders and looking ahead at the tent wall again. 'Even though I can't physically to anything, you two still have your insurance don't you?'

'You need to stop speaking in riddles Alina, the Apparat has rubbed off on you too much.' At his mention, her eyes squinted at you in anger, seemingly aware of his situation back in Os Alta.

'Riddles? Do you prefer lies?'

'No. I choose to omit the truth and say what one wants to hear.'

'I would know'

'Why do you keep saying we took your light? We gave you the Stag' You circle back to her previous accusation, not caring for her petty allegation.

'No, he took my light with the Stag. I can't do anything, nothing. He took it all and is using it against me. Just like you told him to right?' You pause, what.

'Excuse me?' You stared at the girl incredulously. Aleksander did what? 'Alina if you are lying to me I will burn Malyen to a mere ember.'

'Don't you think I would have done something to you right now?' Her voice sneers at you with a poison you've never heard from her before but then it softens to a pitiful infliction. 'Did you not know?'

'Of course I didn't!' You shoot up out of the chair, knocking it over in the process. She just accused Aleksander of taking her Grisha power, of stripping her from the one thing the Saints gave her, light. What you did was nothing compared to this, you never took it all, that would be immoral, sinful. But he did.

'I was wondering why you didn't just take it yourself, I mean you wouldn't need the Stag in the first place.' Because he didn't trust me enough that's why I didn't do it.

'How did he do it?' You stared impatiently at her, your feet feeling restless and your whole body on edge. The anger started to bubble in your gut, slowly raging fire throughout your body.

'He had David use Merzost to join us together using the Stag antlers. He took everything from me. I swear.' She looked petrified, broken. It made sense now why you could feel the power and she couldn't use it, why the antlers didn't quite fit around her collarbone, they didn't belong there. 'How do I fix this?'

Her pleading eyes stared into yours, begging for a solution you didn't have. You turned your head away, deep in rageful thoughts when a loud voice echoed over the rest, she could be lying. This was Alina Starkov after all, she could very well be lying about it all. But it would fit with Aleksander's hints here and there, his need for your validity of loyalty. It made sense.

You once again looked to her, eyes glaring into her own, and whispered with honesty 'I don't know.'

Just as you said aloud your sorrowful admission, the tent flap opened with a whoosh and the man himself entered donning his signature poker face. You took your steps backward, silently excusing yourself from the situation. You could feel his inquisitive stare on you but you ignored it, instead opting to quickly look at his hand. Saints. There, embedded into his hand was a bone fragment of the Stag. You bit down the gasp of horror and clenched your fists. How did I not see it yesterday?

You averted your eyes to Alina's once again and gave an almost missable nod and left.

What in Saint's name is he going to do and how can I find out before my conscience gets the better of me?

*****

You stared at the skiff and watched as the foreign diplomats boarded, each with a slight sheen on their brow. The Fold was an exhausting fear, one children and adults alike shared.

You looked to your left and spotted Aleksander and his troop of Grisha heading your way. While he spoke to Alina, you chose to stand alone and think, think of all the ways right now could go wrong. There were too many possibilities to count.

As the sea of keftas got closer, you walked on board, ignoring once again the look shot your way by Aleksander and Zoya alike.

Your steps were loud in your ears as your feet dragged on the wooden deck. Your head was still swirling with thoughts and scenarios, Aleksander being at the forefront of all of them. Why did he not tell me? Why is he doing this? What is he doing? It was a never ending turmoil.

The whirlwind of your mind was momentarily broken by the movement out of the corner of your eye. Alina was being chained to the deck, all freedom diminished. Aleksander stood behind her, unclasping her cloak to reveal a stunning golden kefta. You could see their lips moving and you could hear their voices, but your brain refused to process anything. You were shell-shocked, your eyes glued to his hand and the antler sticking out of it.

The skiff moved and jostled from side to side on the sands, the Squallers raising the winds to fill the sails. He dropped his hand but your eyes followed its movements. They flicked a sliver of light momentarily and you swore your stomach turned over and inside out. He must have felt your burning gaze on him because he looked up and searched for the target of your stare but it still wasn't enough to break your eyeline.

He appeared at your side suddenly , the same hand reaching for yours but you moved away on instinct. He moved to in front of you, gripping your chin up and forcing you to meet his eyes. They were cold and disconnected, like they usually were when he was deep in his revenge plans. It scared you, it always did.

'Why didn't you tell me?' You said calmy depsite the storm in your mind.

'It's for the best' He whispered, thumb carassing your cheek.

You roughly shoved his hand aside and walked away, choosing instead to stand next to Alina. You could sense her power on him but you could also hear the Merzost aspect calling out to you, begging to be taken into your grasp.

Before Alina had a moment to register your presense, the skiff entered the glorious sands of the Fold. As the shadows wafted in your hair and loomed between your fingers like water, your worries dissapeared and your head cleared. Your lungs breathed the familiar air in and out, spreading the feeling of home throughout your body.

Your eyes shut on their own accord, basking in the Unsea feeling as long as you could manage before all hell broke loose.

____________________________

Part 26

Heyyyyy besties guess who's back!!!!!!!!!!!

Masterlist

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!) @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy @carlywhomever @allisjustok @keepdaydreamingbb @luciadiosa @azkahanif

[kataraqui-archive]

Johnny Silverhand Meta

Why telling Johnny Silverhand he fucked up his friendship with V was cathartic as hell, more meta that no one asked for but I’m gonna go off anyway:

Obviously, spoilers ahead.

At the Pistis Sophia V and Johnny have arguably one of the deepest heart to hearts so far. Johnny reveals some of his history in the military, how a friend died to save him, how being used as a corporate tool radicalized him, and then gives V his friend’s dog tags as a symbol of his promise to sacrifice himself so V can live. It’s pretty emotional and made me feel like V and Johnny’s relationship had really grown over the course of the game.

Then Johnny asks for a favour, his last wish so to speak. To speak to Rogue and get revenge on Adam Smasher. He asks for control of V’s body so he can speak to Rogue and reiterates, multiple times, that this is ALL he’s going to do while in the driver’s seat. 

Instead, immediately and without hesitation, Johnny goes joyriding. He gets completely wasted, gets a tattoo, drinks some more, makes out with a stripper, gets into a brawl with the bouncers, then fingers the stripper in the car, crashes said car, and THEN goes to talk to Rogue after getting what information he could from the stripper. All of this he does with V’s body. He hands V back control, leaving V sick as a dog, beat up, tattooed, and with little memory of how they got in that state. 

Here’s where I get into my feelings as a player. I felt DEEPLY violated by this sequence of events and my inability to do anything about it. V’s getting piloted through sexual situations with a woman they don’t know. They’re getting tattooed. Yeah, in the world of Cyberpunk, that doesn’t have to be permanent, but it’s still all an enormous violation of V’s autonomy and what he consented to. It’s THEIR body. Beyond that, I thought V and Johnny were getting along, trusting each other, and the first moment V gave Johnny their unequivocal trust, Johnny lied. I felt betrayed. I was honestly so pissed I cried, in particular because Johnny brushed aside V’s (valid) arguments that this wasn’t what they’d agreed to and they could have done all that other stuff themselves without Johnny driving. The reality is: Johnny never intended to just speak to Rogue, he deliberately misled V so he could have one last hurrah with zero appreciation for how those actions would affect V. V who is already sick and dying because of the relic. No matter how you slice it, this is deeply fucked up behaviour.

It’s even more deeply fucked when you consider Johnny’s take on dolls. He’s openly disgusted by the way dolls are used as toys, the behavioural chip robbing them of autonomy/identity, and then their memories wiped so they don’t have to live with whatever depraved crap clients want to do with them. Then he goes and treats V exactly the way those behavioural chips treat dolls, and at first is completely unrepentant about it.

All throughout the story, Johnny reiterates how much he hates Arasaka for rewriting people’s identities. Even acknowledges that this is why he can’t stand the fact that, through the relic, he’s being made to do the same thing to V. What he does in Chippin’ In is hypocritical as fuck, but not the first time Johnny’s done something contrary to his general ethos. Though it’s not acknowledged in his memories because, as Alt points out, they were tinged with Johnny’s bias, the entire bombing of Arasaka tower was funded and backed by Militech; he hates corpos more than anything, but Johnny still accepted their backing when it served his interests.

When you follow that quest line to the point where you visit Johnny’s grave, we get to see a totally different side to Johnny. He seems humbled and distressed that, despite all he did in his lifetime, his body lies in an unmarked grave, an oil field where no one remembers it’s even there. I felt really bad for him in that moment, but I was still pissed. My V acknowledged that he would write ‘The Man Who Saved My Life’ on Johnny’s grave because, despite their falling out, Johnny is still trying to save him. There’s still a bond forged by sharing the same body and what they’ve been through. But when Johnny tries to sidestep by saying that, while he fucked up his relationships with everyone else, he’s glad he didn’t fuck up what he has with V, I wasn’t standing for that. I wasn’t going to let him play for sympathy over the unmarked grave to sweep his betrayal of V’s trust under the rug. I chose the ‘Nope, you fucked that up too,’ option. 

Honestly? One of the most cathartic moments in any game for me. Johnny doesn’t deny he fucked up either. He asks for a second chance, which my V agreed to give him, because even with all that fuckery they’re still close friends. 

I didn’t know this dialogue was what unlocked the secret ending, it just made sense given what had happened and how I felt V would respond. My partner played it differently though, which is how I came to realize that the dialogue you get with Kerry and Johnny is an indicator of your relationship. When Kerry asks ‘do you get along?’ my partner got the response, ‘Not lately, no.’ Whereas I got, ‘The kid loves me.’ That seems almost contradictory, given I’m the one who chose to go off on Johnny for his betrayal, and my partner let it lie, but looking at Johnny’s other close relationships and his general ethos in life, it painted a bigger picture. (Note: I don’t know for SURE that the ‘you fucked up’ line is required to get this, but from various playthroughs between my partner and I, and what I’ve found online since, it seems that this dialogue is the key.)

The only people Johnny considered close friends are all people we’ve seen in his memories, and in every single one he is butting heads with them in some way. Johnny knows he’s damaged the people closest to him. Acknowledges it not just over his own grave, but in various endings as well. I think it’s telling that the memories V experiences, the ones that stick out most in Johnny’s subconscious, all involve some kind of argument between he and Alt, Rogue or Kerry. I think the fact that they stood up to him mattered to him more than anything because they weren’t giving up on him. They weren’t going ‘Johnny’s beyond help.’ Johnny even asks why Denny never tried to fix him. He’s also disparaging of being a ‘yes, man’ in most quest lines, rebellious to a fault. I think V standing up to him in kind garners Johnny’s love and respect more than if V just accepts what Johnny did. Maybe Johnny sees that as disingenuous or even cowardly, but I think on a deeper level he sees it as a sign that V has given up on him too. That V can’t be bothered because he doesn’t believe Johnny can change. There’s also just something really moving to me when two people can express their anger or hurt to one another and still be friends after. 

Anyway, those are my thoughts on Johnny’s relationships and why the ‘you fucked up’ line was so important for both V and Johnny. I really love the way these characters are written, and this relationship in particular just felt really genuine in all it’s complicated glory.

Fin.

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2255 Summary: The one where you feel aroused whenever your soulmate does

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 223

Madara was halfway through the speech he’d spent hours preparing, in full view of the entire council of advisors, when his words stumbled and his entire body grew warm. From the other end of the table Hashirama and Izuna gave him looks of great concern. He avoided both of their gazes. After clearing his throat he cast around trying to pick up the threads of his carefully laid arguments and continue on but the stride had been broken, the careful build up he’d been relying on interrupted by an untimely wave of something he really didn’t want to think about in a room filled with stuffy clan heads. 

“We’ll have to think on this matter a little more,” Yamanaka-san told him when he stuttered to a halt for the second time. 

“Don’t give me that,” Madara snapped. He knew as well as everyone else in the room what that meant. It meant no. “I haven’t even gone over-”

The words failed on his tongue as another wave of heat washed over him. Whatever his soulmate was doing at the moment he hoped someone came along and interrupted their fun at just the wrong moment. If his day had to be ruined by their untimely lust then it was the least they deserved in return. 

At the very least a careful look around the room showed that no one seemed to have noticed exactly what was bothering him. Hashirama’s gaze had already fallen back in to a bored, empty look. Izuna was frowning with open concern. Most of the advisors were either drumming their fingers with impatience as they waited for their own turn to speak or jotting notes down on the papers in front of them. Out of everyone in the room Tobirama was the most likely to notice, his eye for detail surpassed by very few, but the intensity of his gaze hadn’t changed in the slightest and despite how closely he’d been watching since Madara stood up from his chair the man’s expression hadn’t so much as twitched. 

They weren’t exactly very close but Madara knew Tobirama well enough to know he would have at least some sort of reaction to seeing the head of the Uchiha clan grow hot with lust in the middle of addressing the council. 

“I have a few thoughts on this matter myself,” Hyuga-san piped up and that was when Madara realized that he'd lost this argument. It didn’t matter whether the points he’d been trying to make were good or valid or benefited the village as a whole. The Hyuga clan head would always stand in opposition to him and somehow the man had wheedled himself in to better graces with the others than Madara would ever be able to with his naturally caustic personality. They would side with Hyuga-san as soon as he finished speaking. Just because he already knew it would happen, however, didn’t mean he had to like it. 

For the rest of the meeting Madara slumped in his chair with arms crossed and jaw rigily set, doing his best to project as much insult and anger as he possibly could. Partly because he really was feeling that way and he wanted the rest of the council to understand how much he did not appreciate their favoritism. It was also partly to cover the gentle waves of arousal that continued to wash over him from time to time like the other half of his undiscovered bond were being continually distracted by something they found pleasing in all the right ways. If he wasn't so irritated he might have been grateful, actually. Shameful as it would have been to admit to anyone, Madara had been so busy lately that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a few minutes to take himself in hand let alone the last time he’d been able to seek out any form of relationship, temporary or not. Having the time to follow up on the echoes of someone else’s lust would have at least been a great stress relief. 

Unfortunately the hardness inside his clothing did nothing to make the mountains of paperwork on his desk go away. Madara adjusted himself as discreetly as possible before standing up at the end of the meeting, stomping his way out of the room in the hopes he could turn the fire in his blood to a different kind of energy. It sort of worked. He always had been quick to anger, though it was difficult to stay truly angry now that his mind had been thoroughly distracted, supplying him with all sorts of interesting images from the last relationship he’d actually had time for. They hadn’t lasted very long but by all the gods that man could bend. 

When he realized he was contemplating the risks of slipping down in to the archives and hoping no one would follow, Madara shook himself, determined to be productive. The village needed him to do his work and none of the papers on his desk were going to get done any faster if he was off somewhere indulging pointless bodily needs. He would have to soldier on. 

The first thing on his to do list was to pick up the information packet he’d been too distracted to take with him after the meeting, necessary to have with him if he wanted to get anything done on the academy project. His nose wrinkled. Fetching that meant going down to Tobirama’s office since he was the one who’d been handing them out and he was the one who would have gathered up any left behind. Madara was grateful they’d been getting along better over the past few months - it was surprisingly difficult to remember when they’d last fallen in to one of them infamous screaming matches - but he really didn’t want Tobirama’s attention on him right now. Of all people to need something from, of course it had to be the one who always wanted to notice the whole room. 

Several curses for bad luck were still spilling out of his mouth when Madara found himself pounding on the door. Tobirama’s voice rumbled from inside for him to come in, sounding entirely unsurprised. Either he’d sensed Madara coming or he’d made a note of who exactly left their info packet behind. Possibly both. 

“Do I get three guesses for what you need?” Tobirama asked in lieu of a greeting. His tone was almost dry enough to cover the hints at humor underneath but it was there just enough to stoke Madara’s temper. 

“Fuck you,” he snarled without thinking.

“Now, now, Uchiha, if you’re not polite to me then I don’t see why I should need to cooperate with you.”

“Fuck you with a sharp stick!”

Madara knew he had anger problems. Knew that he tended to let his emotions get the best of him with alarming frequency. Right now when his body was fighting off the heat of another’s thoughts was not the time to think about standing down and rethinking his approach. No, he was already too much on edge to even consider the idea of self control and as much as he would later very smugly point out that it all worked to his benefit, at the moment all he could feel was exasperation for himself when Tobirama lifted one of those perfect eyebrows and Madara heard his own voice explode. 

Several months of good behavior went out the door all at once with one great roar of temper. 

Contrary to most of the fights they typically engaged in, Tobirama didn’t seem very interested in fighting back. For some reason that only incensed Madara further, driving him to scream louder, as if the man had done him some terrible wrong by not providing him with a proper outlet for all this unwanted energy sizzling under his skin. No matter how he swore and raged and shouted Tobirama did nothing but sit with his chin resting on a cushion of long fingers woven together, mouth set in some enigmatic line, eyes dark and intense as they watched Madara’s every movement. It was almost creepy how closely he watched without ever engaging. 

Yet worse than being stared at like some freakish zoo exhibit were the constant waves of increasing lust. Madara wished he could say that his anger was burning it away like he’d hoped but it only seemed to make it worse. The more he let himself get riled up the more his belly roiled with fire, body almost aching to be pressed against whatever hard surface was most convenient and fucked within an inch of his life. It really had been too long.

If he’d been allowed to run the course of his little temper tantrum and storm off immediately afterwards the way he normally did Madara wasn’t sure he ever would have figured it out. The vicious snarl he let out when someone opened the door unannounced was accompanied by a sharp spike of want that absolutely did not match the face that stared back at him in surprise. Izuna blinked at him once, spared his best friend the same baffled look, then looked at the door he was still holding open. 

“Damn, I need you to add these seals to my office sometime. I didn’t hear a damn thing from out in the hall.”

Madara growled to have his beautifully crafted insults cut off when he was in the middle of a really good stride. His jaw opened to demand that Tobirama do no such thing only to snap shut when he caught sight of the man he’d just been abusing for who the hell knew how long. Of all the expressions he might have expected to see, shame was not one of them. He wouldn’t have guessed Tobirama even knew what shame felt like but there it was in the faint twist of lips and the guilty shifting of weight. It wasn’t until he realized one of Tobirama’s hands was out of sight under the desk that his brain made a leap from Point A to somewhere along the lines of Tab C, sub-paragraph ninety-eight, and then he was left standing just a little outside of his own body, entirely unaware of the world around him. 

By the time his unsuspecting brain had finally accepted the idea that just occurred to him he came back to himself to realize the door was shut, Izuna was nowhere in sight, and Tobirama was staring at him again with something like faint worry hanging between the creases of his brow. 

“Are you hot for me?” Madara demanded with every ounce of tack in his body - which was to say absolutely none. 

“I...beg your pardon?”

“You were watching me just like that while I was making my presentation during the meeting.”

“Failing to make your presentation,” Tobirama corrected him. 

And then he seemed to fall still in anticipation and Madara could only stare as the whole world crashed down around his ears. 

“You do it on purpose,” he breathed. “You make me angry on purpose because you like it! You fucker!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tobirama protested. His voice was steady enough to give the words credence and it would have been entirely believable if not for the sudden bright red color staining his ears.

Madara stomped a little closer to slam both hands down on the desk and shove his face right up to the other man. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re hot for this disaster, I can feel it. Every time I get louder you get hornier.”

Watching Tobirama’s eyes blow wide was satisfying but seeing him drop his face in to both hands with the mortification of getting caught was pure gold. Madara enjoyed it very smugly even as he raced to catch up with the true meaning behind his own discovery. In an effort not to flail his way through a moment he’d been dreaming of since the day his mother explained the concept of soulmates to him as a wee little preteen, he cast about for something else to say.

“The only thing I don’t get is what got you hot in the meeting of a fucking council meeting.”

“I like your confidence,” Tobirama’s voice admitted from behind pale fingers. “It’s competent. And attractive.” He could not have sounded more strained if the words had been tortured out of him. Madara chewed that over for a minute before deciding he liked it. This he could definitely work with. 

“Right. Well, I am going to get absolutely nothing done until I can think straight again so here’s what is going to happen. You want confidence? Good. Then you’re going to follow me home, you’re going to follow me in to my bedroom, and then you are going to follow every single order I give while you rail me in to the mattress. Are we in agreement?” 

He’d never seen Tobirama move so fast in his entire life. One second they were separated by the very solid wood of a sturdy desk and the next he was standing in a six foot shadow blinking at surprisingly delicate collarbones. He grinned to see the blush revealed now that Tobirama wasn’t hiding behind his hands. It had been far too long but it wouldn’t be too much longer. Madara freely gave in to the urge to cackle as he led his soulmate away to go work off a little energy before they could talk about this with level heads. 

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #135: Martha (Ruler)

Summer goes by so fast, doesn’t it? Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the last of the summer 1 servants, Martha! By the end of this build you too can punch a dragon so hard people on the other side get hurt.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Mana prism power make up!

Race and Background

Martha’s still a Human, but since this is a variant of her normal build this is also a Variant Human. That gives her +1 Wisdom, +1 Constitution, proficiency in Animal Handling if the Tarrasque gets too uppity, and the Crusher feat. That nets you +1 Strength, and once per turn you can move a large or smaller creature when you hit it with a bludgeoning attack. Also, dealing critical damage with a bludgeoning attack gives advantage to all attack rolls against that creature for a round. We haven’t even hit level one yet and you’re already breaking bones.

Like last time, you’re still an Acolyte, giving you Insight and Religion proficiency. I don’t think I have to explain why those skills are good for Saint Martha.

Ability Scores

Despite everything you’re still a woman of the cloth, so your Wisdom should be as high as possible. Like I said in the opening your punches pack a punch, so Strength is second. Third is Constitution. Your Natural Body means you can shrug off poisons pretty easily. After that is Dexterity, because if you’re going to fight in a bikini you’d better be fast. Your Charisma isn’t great, mostly because we couldn’t make everything an 18, but we’re dumping Intelligence. It’s not like the other summer servants will notice.

Class Levels

1. If you want to punch through a dragon, monk levels are a must. First level monks get Martial Arts, letting you make an unarmed attack as a bonus action after you attack with your main action. There’s monk weapons too, but we’re just here for unarmed attacks. You can also use your dexterity instead of strength for attacks, but we’re not gonna do that. You can also use your martial arts die when you make unarmed damage rolls, and it grows as you level up. You also get Unarmored Defenses, giving you an AC of 10+ your wisdom mod + your dexterity mod to help with the whole “bikini armor” thing.

Finally, you get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as two monk skills. Athletics for a beach body, and History because you’re a servant, so duh.

2. Second level monks get Ki points, a number per short rest equal to your level, that you can spend to dash, disengage, dodge, or attack twice as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, increasing your walking speed as long as you’re only wearing a swimsuit. If the other players ask, it’s absolutely necessary.

3. Third level monks seek out a monastic tradition, and we’re going for a real throwback this time- the Way of Tranquility will give us all the holy power we need, and eventually, fists strong enough to tame a dragon. When you set down the Path of Tranquility you can cast Sanctuary on yourself for free once per minute. Any creature that tries to attack you must first make a wisdom save (dc 8+your wisdom modifier + proficiency) or redirect the attack. The effect still ends if you make an attack, but creatures that break through the effect are immune for an hour. 

You also get Healing Hands, giving you the same effects as a paladin’s Lay on Hands, but you get 10 times your level in healable HP each long rest. You can also replace a flurry of blows attack with this feature when you use it. Slap your party back to life!

You can also Deflect Missiles, reacting to incoming arrows and the like to reduce the damage you take. If you reduce it to zero, you can also spend a ki point to throw it back as a part of the same reaction!

4. Fourth level monks can Slow Fall, spending a reaction to reduce damage taken from falling. You also get your first Ability Score Improvement, bumping up your Wisdom for a higher AC and stronger Sanctuary.

5. Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack each attack action, and can turn their attacks into Stunning Strikes by spending ki, forcing the creature they hit to make a constitution save or be stunned for a round.

6.  Sixth level monks have magical hands thanks to their Ki-empowered Strikes, letting them get around resistances. Tranquility monks also become an Emissary of Peace, giving you advantage on charisma checks to calm down people, as long as they aren’t deception or intimidation checks. You also get proficiency in the persuasion skill.

7.  Your Evasion supercharges your dexterity saves, meaning you take half damage on failures and no damage on successes. If you’re going to tame a dragon you’d better get good at dealing with fire breath. Your Stillness of Mind also lets you end charms or frightening effects on yourself as an action. Honestly, you’re kind of the one who does the frightening around here.

8. Use this ASI to bump up your Strength for stronger and more accurate attacks. Now we’re talking.

9. Your Unarmored Movement Improvement lets you run on water and up walls, as long as your turn ends on solid ground. Perfect for those long walks on the beach.

10. Your Purity of Body makes you immune to disease and poison. Ki manipulation is really similar to being a cleric, now that we’re looking at it. Ah well, just makes it that much easier to reflavor it.

11. Eleventh level tranquility monks can Douse the Flames of War, using your action to force a wisdom save on a creature you touch. It automatically doesn’t work if the creature’s missing any HP, but if it does work it can’t deal damage or force saves for a minute, or until it’s attacked, takes damage, makes a saving throw, or sees its allies do any of the above.

12. Use this ASI to grab the Tough feat for a free 24 HP, plus two extra every time you level up. If you’re going to brawl, you’d better be ready to take some hits. For the lord, of course.

13. The Tongue of the Sun and Moon means that you now effectively speak and understand every spoken language. I mean, yeah, I guess that is technically a power Jesus gave to people, so it kinda fits. It also means you don’t have to wait for the translations Type Moon is never going to do on most of their work, so I envy you.

14. Your Diamond Soul gives you proficiency in all saving throws, and you can spend a ki point to re-roll a failed save. Pretty easy to reflavor that as god’s favor tbh.

15. Your Timeless Body now suffers no negative effects of old age (not that there’s any to begin with RAW) and you can’t be aged magically. Honestly that’s a really good thing considering we’re still sticking to the bikini.

Also you no longer need food or water, save it for your guests.

16. Use this ASI for more Strength, so you can punch even harder and nothing else. Stronks are always valid. You also get one point of Dexterity for... later.

17. If you’ve read this far, you’re probably thinking, “Fateandphantasms you dolt! You forgot to make this build super good at punching!” Hahaha, wrong. The final ability tranquility monks get is the Anger of a Gentle Soul. If you see a creature take someone else down to 0 HP, you can use your reaction to gain a damage bonus against them until the end of your next turn. That damage bonus is equal to your monk level. You can use this once per short rest.

18. Now that you can finally punch a hole through a Tarrasque, it’s time to diversify. As a Fighter, you get a Fighting Style: The Mariner fighting style gives you +1 to your AC, and you get a climbing and swimming speed, the perfect fit for a deserted island.

You also get a Second Wind, healing yourself as a bonus action, but honestly your healing hands are probably better.

19. Second level fighters get most of the reason we came here, Action Surge! Tack an extra action onto your turn for extra punching!

20. If you really want to powergame I’d suggest taking echo knight here for the extra attacks, but we’re sticking to character here, so go the way of the Champion for Improved Criticals. Now you deal critical hits on 19s and 20s!

Pros:

There’s a reason this UA isn’t really used any more. Adding a +17 modifier to your attack damage for a round means you can do ridiculous amounts of damage in a very short time. Toss in that action surge and a flurry of blows and you’re dealing 6d10+126 damage. That can ko a couple of builds on this account before we even start rolling!

Having proficiency on every save, nearly permanent Indomitable, and near permanent Sanctuary means you can just kind of ignore enemies if you don’t feel like fighting them. That doesn’t even get into the fact that you can shut them down on a save too.

You have more healing than a paladin, and you can move 110 feet in a round to administer that healing. If someone goes down, you can probably be there to help them back up. Or just kill whoever did it, either or.

Cons:

As a stronk, your AC isn’t amazing. It’s not even that bad, but when you’re a frontline fighter who can explode without warning you’re doing to bring a lot of attention on yourself, and that bikini isn’t going to help you here.

Playing to character means you’re only using your fists, which have a range of five feet. Flyers are going to be an issue, as are any monks who stuck it out until at least level 18.

A lot of this build is dependent on really old UA, so odds are most DMs aren’t going to let it slide for your average game. Ah well, Summer’s almost over anyway.

[simplepotatofarmer]

comfort hug #16: welcome home

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dream SMP/Minecraft RP/??? Rating: General Relationships: Technoblade & Reader Words: 1,915 Additional Tags: hugs, fluff, comfort, reader insert, fluff without plot, found family vibes Summary: A platonic Technoblade and Reader fic, for all your soft Techno needs.

*disclaimer: it’s me, ya hug gremlin back at it again for reasons aka sometimes you just want to hug a war criminal and pig and that’s valid. also this is solely about canon/character techno.

ao3 link in the reblog

It’s hard to feel as though you belong.

You had travelled so far, trying to find a place to settle down, somewhere to stay, but each place has pushed you out. You’re not on their side, not a part of whatever community or government they’ve set up, no matter how hard you try to help, try to be kind to them. When you were little, you’d share your lunch with the other kids and then they would run off to play, leaving you alone. You never were sure how to make friends, never sure where you fit into their pretend hierarchy.

And now you don’t know where you fit into the real hierarchy and it makes your chest ache.

The wind picks up, whipping your clothes around and making the tip of your nose twinge with the cold. You rub it with the back of your hand and lower your head as the first few flakes of snow begin to fall. This far into the arctic, if you don’t find shelter soon, you’ll be stuck out in the storm and that’s a recipe for disaster or at the very least frostbite.

Ahead, the faint light of a lantern cuts through the growing dark, outlining a small house.

You hesitate, wondering if it’ll be like every other time you’ve come some place new. Perhaps it’s better to find shelter some place else than feel the disappointment of realizing you don’t fit in, that you don’t belong. But it’s getting colder and you find yourself trudging through the snow and up the stairs. Shivering, you reach out and knock on the door.

From inside you can hear a low voice and movement. Your heart starts pounding in your chest. The door opens. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust well enough to be able to see; the figure is tall, tall enough to block the light from inside the cabin and tall enough to have to bend slightly to fit through the doorway.

Once you can see, your heart stills in your chest and your mouth goes dry.

You thought it was a man but now you realize you were only half right; he stands like a man, is dressed like a man, and is looking down at you with human eyes but that’s where the similarities stop. His ears stick out from the side of his head, the tip of one folded over slightly, and his nose is more of a snout. Tusks stick upwards from his bottom jaw, mouth pulled into a frown.

A pig, you think, and just manage to choke down the nervous laugh that threatens to bubble up. He’s a giant pig.

“—heh?”

The noise is high pitched, confused, and doesn’t seem quite fitting for someone like him.

Looking up, you wonder what to say but before you can, he speaks again.

“Uh uh. No. Not again.”

The door slams shut in your face.

That feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. Once again, you’ll have no place to go, once again you’re being turned away. Wind whistles past you, stopped slightly by the porch’s roof. You’re tired and you can feel the hot pricks of tears in your eyes. You should leave, find somewhere else, but you can’t bring yourself to.

Sinking down, you huddle up on the porch, pulling your jacket around you as best you can. It’s still cold, still lonely, but the wind isn’t as strong and the light from the cabin makes you feel a little less alone. You rest your forehead against your knees and prepare to wait out the night.

The sound of the door opening jerks you awake and you shake off a thin layer of snow as you look up. The pig man stands looking down at you, a scowl on his face that seems more annoyed than angry.

“Alright, get up. I don’t want you freezin’ to death on my porch. Do y’know what that’d do for my property value?”

You blink up at him.

“Well, come on. I’m not gonna stand here all night.”

Your feet slip on the ice as you scramble to stand. He steps aside so you can enter the cabin. Immediately it’s warmer and you breathe a sigh of relief, rubbing your hands together.

“Just don’t touch anything, you got it? I don’t want you messing up my stuff,” he says.

You nod.

“I won’t,” you say, almost saying more but stop.

He’s imposing in looks with scars that speak of either battles fought or dangers encountered but the way he moves around the room, muttering under his breath, makes him seem awkward.

“Sit down, you’re making me nervous just standin’ there.”

You follow his gaze towards a chair in the corner and sit with a bit of a thud.

“You’re not some kind of spy, are you?”

“I—I’m not a spy.” There’s a hint of incredulity in your voice.

“Sounds like something a spy would say.”

You stare up at him, wondering what you could say that wouldn’t sound like something a spy would say and come up blank.

“Okay.”

“Who are you with?”

He moves to stand in front of you, hooves clacking against the wooden floor.

“With…?” you ask, sinking down in the chair a little.

“Yeah, with.”

A tightness grips your chest. You’re not with anyone; that’s why you’re out here, by yourself, trying to find some place to stay for the night, some place you can be safe.

“I’m not with anyone,” you say, voice cracking a little.

“Heh?” The noise of confusion escapes him again and then he narrows his eyes, considering you. “What do you think about government?”

“Uh…” The image of being turned away by someone who claimed to work for the president of one of the places you had tried to seek shelter in flashes in your mind. “I can’t say I’m much of a fan.”

“Wonderful, that’s perfect. I won’t have to kill you,” he says, voice deadpan.

You let out a laugh, nervous, and shift in your seat.

“That wasn’t a joke, I really would have to kill you.” He sits down, the chair near the fire creaking slightly under his weight, long legs stretched out. “So can I ask why you were knockin’ on my door in the middle of the night? It’s just a little bit suspicious, if you know what I mean.”

Looking down, you twist your hands in your lap and shiver. It’s warmer in here but the cold still lingers, the skin of your nose and hands feeling like someone had pricked it with tiny needles.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” you say after a moment. “I just saw the house and—”

The words die in your mouth. It’s too hard to talk about, that feeling of desperation to find somewhere you’re wanted, the fear that you never will, the pain when you’re turned away after trying so hard.

His features soften, a look of resignation and then sympathy crossing his face.

“They exile you, too, huh?”

You don’t have to ask who ‘they’ are.

“No but they said I couldn’t stay, that I had to find somewhere else.”

“Typical,” he says with a snort. “You’re lucky they didn’t try to execute you or steal your horse.”

The corner of your mouth twitches.

“I don’t have a horse.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

Silence falls in the cabin as you stare at your hands, the pig man staring out the window as if he was remembering something unpleasant. There’s so many questions you want to ask but you can’t find the words. Instead you rub your hands over your arms, trying to remove the chill from where its settled in your bones.

“You still cold?”

“A little,” you admit.

He gives a sigh that borders on a snort and stands, grabbing a log from the pile next to the fireplace, setting it across the flames. Tiny embers jump up and after a moment, the log catches fire, spreading both warmth and light into the room.

“No wonder. You have nothing, huh? No gear, that jacket’s barely enough to keep you warm.”

It’s not harshly said, that sympathetic look from earlier now creeping into his voice.

“I did but—I thought I had found a friend so I gave them most of my things. I just wanted to help,” you say and this time you can’t stop the tears from leaking out of the corner of your eyes. Hastily, you wipe at your face.

“See, that was your first mistake, trustin’ other people.”

The way he says it makes you think he’s speaking from experience, an undercurrent of anger. It makes you cry harder despite your efforts not to. He sighs and the creak of the floor and the way a shadow falls across you tells you he’s standing in front of you.

“Oh, don’t do that,” he says and crouches down in front of you. “I’m not good when people cry, okay?”

Wiping your face on your sleeve, you give him a shaky smile.

“Sorry.”

“Apologizin’ for cryin’ is almost as bad as the cryin’,” the pig man says, reaching out to awkwardly pat your shoulder and for the first time you realize that he has hands. It wasn’t something you had paid attention to at first. You blink at him as he settles back on his haunches. “Look, it’s great you wanted to help someone you thought was a friend and I think you should keep doing that except when it’s gonna hurt you. I mean, you could’ve frozen death out there. It’s okay to think of yourself first.”

You want to ask him why he cares when he had shut the door on you at first but it had only been at first. He had come back to let you in and you think you know why. Even crouching down the way he is, he’s still taller than you and you have to rise out of the chair a bit to hug him, throwing your arms around his neck. He stiffens.

“You remember when I said ‘hey don’t do that’ about the cryin’? Let’s go ahead and add hugging to that,” he says in a low monotone that you can feel rumble in his chest. Despite the words, he doesn’t push you away, instead patting your back and letting you rest your head on his shoulder until the tears stop for good. “Alright, alright. You’re fine. You can stop now.”

A small laugh escapes you; you don’t mean to, but there’s something about the resignation in his voice, the protest even as he hugs you back, that strikes you as funny.

“See, if you’re gonna laugh, I’ll kick you out.”

An apology almost makes its way past your lips but you stop yourself.

“Thank you,” you say, pulling away, and mean it.

“Ew, gratitude,” he says as he stands but there’s a curl to his mouth, half hidden behind the tusks, that belies the words. For a moment he looks at you and then shakes his head, the braid of pink hair moving as he does. “Alright, fine. You can stay here.”

You perk up.

“Really? For how long?”

“Just until the snow clears, then you’re out, got it? And you’re payin’ rent.”

Smiling, you don’t mention how in the arctic the snow never clears or how you have nothing to pay rent with; he already knows.

“I got it.”

[lucci0la]

what do your kinshifts feel like?

LONG ASS POST WARNING‼️

Personally I tend to notice kinshifts when my behavior and interactions with people change- I feel a very particular way about certain things, or my daydreams more often than not end up having to do with those from my canons. I miss certain people more, or my feelings suddenly change about specific people from my canon. I also tend to feel a lot less strongly about my other kins, sometimes removing them from my list just to add them back later when I feel a shift. And this may sound rancid, but when I’m in a kinshift, I tend to feel very agitated or annoyed seeing others with the same kin or feeling a strong sense of (unrightful) possessiveness seeing someone from my source being close with them. Not to say that anyone sharing a kin with me is invalid (they absolutely aren’t invalid in any way and my personal beliefs enforce that), but it’s an involuntary feeling that arises in my kinshifts. Behavior wise, there’s usually a very noticeable shift in what I do or want or my emotions.

If you’re asking about specifics of my kinshifts, I’ll just tell you what I’ve noticed!

Kakyoin :

~ My dysphoria gets stronger- not in the way of wanting to be more masculine as I’m fairly feminine, but feeling upset by any hyper feminization by those in my life (and occasionally within the fandom). There’s just a strong disconnect between myself and others emotion wise.

~ I tend to feel more passive and wear my more flowy clothing or button ups and spend more time on my hygiene, actually bothering to do things like put my damn earrings in or do my hair. I also seem to be more careful with what I eat and take care to finish any tasks and chores.

~ While my motivation for things increases, so does my will to talk to people. I speak noticeably more friendly to people (read: I’ll be really friendly casually until a full on encounter occurs, in which case, I’m shaking in my boots with uncertainty) and my tone changes drastically, so that’s always a hint. With that being said though, my words come out much more naturally and I don’t sound as much like a broken record.

~ This is literally the main thing that I noticed between kinshifts in the beginning, but in my Rohan shifts I felt a strong interest in body modifications or body art- like piercings and tattoos. In my Rohan shifts I’d have a clear feeling that I’d want some sort of tattoo or get random piercings, specifically nipple piercings, and then when I would be in my Kakyoin shift, I couldn’t not notice that I just had no will or want to alter or mark my body. This was during the time where I kept shifting back and forth between my Kakyoin and Rohan shift, which would change every (this is really a guess) 3-21 days and my feelings and sense of improvement, progression, and change were super clear to me, so it couldn’t go unnoticed. What made it even clearer to me was that the back and forth interest in body modification didn’t feel like indecisiveness, it just felt more like a flipped switch that always went back and forth to the same thoughts and feelings. I remember the thought of dying my hair being a similar feeling to body modification even though my hair color is different from canon- attempting to remedy it outside of video games with customizable characters just makes me feel like I shouldn’t.

~ SUUUPER fucking lonely. I may have more motivation to talk to people, but oh my god, I’m still painfully reluctant and shy in genuine interactions.

Rohan :

~ Usually I feel a lot more upfront with everything, and unlike in my Kakyoin shifts, I’m a bit more distant from people and tend to repeat myself if I’m not in the mood to let my words come out naturally. In other words, I’m considerably more self-focused and care more to finish my school work, usually only reading on the side instead of my Kakyoin shifts where I’m actually taking the time to do anything and everything I can to take care of myself.

~ I don’t experience much dysphoria in these shifts, if any, and lean towards form-fitting or revealing clothing. Though by revealing, I mean more that if I’m alone and at home (which I usually am) I usually just end up strolling around in an unbuttoned cardigan and my underwear so it’s not like I do it in public.

~ Even though I present myself differently with people and don’t actively pursue them much in this state, I feel a notable fondness for them. It’s not like I ever stop loving my pets or family when I’m in any of my shifts, but I’ve noticed that I think about them in a kinder light when I’m in my Rohan shifts. To put it very lightly, the family I was born into that I remember from my canon though wasn’t one that I was as close as I would’ve hoped.

~ It’s a subtle change from the Kakyoin shifts, but I tend to be happier and a bit more hopeful rather that feeling like something is missing. My memories are all and all very much happier and it makes me feel a lot more at ease in many things that I do even if I’m not actively remembering them at times.

~ I’ve admittedly been very distracted from my own kins as of late and unfortunately even let myself forget my own memories- though once I read them again (as I wrote them down) I was reminded. Aside from the attachment and interest to body modification like nipple piercings or getting tattoos, I can’t remember many more differences.

Doppio :

~ These shifts are always way shorter than the others, but I notice them very easily. They stick out like a sore thumb in my eyes. My emotions aren’t passive (in the background) in the slightest during these shifts and mostly consist of like,,, pure fucking peace. Like it’s just a strong feeling you can’t ignore.

~ I procrastinate much more and act with self-indulgence, food becomes the biggest comfort, and I lose my absolute MIND over the outdoors. Scenery of any kind (even if it’s really not that good) catches my eye in an instant and I fuckin’ lose it just trying to take pictures.

~ I’ll interact and talk with those close to me, but I don’t care to do so that much with others.

~ While I like being babied (caressed, treated with endearment, etc.) I literally cannot stand not being treated like another person. Consuming kin content for this shift in particular can make me very angry very quickly unless I get it custom made- like holy shit, call me sweet all you want to, but if I see another damn aesthetic regarding frogs or phones, I will lose my shit. It feels like saying one thing at a family meeting when you’re five and then everyone holds it over your damned head into your adulthood. It’s just a bad joke.

~ I’m pretty sure this is the one kin that I had whose canon was more fem-leaning in terms of attraction because every time I’m in the doppio shift, I just— women 💞💞💞

Johnny :

~ Honestly I don’t know how I know I’m in this shift when I am, I just am. I may have not had this shift enough to know for sure, but I just do.

Aside from all that, easier hints would be

Kakyoin: Attached to Jotaro (and Dio at times) and reacts to doubles in a very jealous way- I don’t interact, obviously, but regardless.

Rohan: Attached to Josuke for the most part, but enjoys most from part 4 and reacts to doubles with a strong feeling of disgust or annoyance, obviously still not interacting.

Doppio: Attached to no one in particular despite kin memories (regardless of my care for Donatella or Trish), but reacts to doubles more out of anger. Just as I said, I just get really angry to the point of shaking and simply try to remove myself from the situation.

Johnny: Who knows tbh lmao. I haven’t done any meditations on this one.

Like I said before, these are just involuntary feelings I get from doubles, I don’t, like, bark at or harass them or anything, they’re all just as valid as I am, but these are just differences I’ve noticed between shifts.

[quicksilversquared]

Papa Bear

If there's one thing that Tom Dupain will not stand, it's threats against his daughter. So when Mr. Agreste demands that Marinette and Adrien break up or else, Tom isn't about to let that stand. So he makes a call that ends up setting off a chain of events that no one could have expected.

a Chat Blanc rewrite

(links in the reblog)

Mr. Dupain was steaming as Nathalie and her tablet- with Mr. Agreste still on-screen- sauntered out of the bakery, as cool and unaffected as when they had entered, despite the crying girl they had left in their wake.

How dare they tell Marinette that she and Adrien had to break up. How dare Mr. Agreste say that she was negatively impacting his company image. And how dare he threaten Marinette and say that he would pull Adrien out of school and away from his friends- and his girlfriend if Marinette didn't end her relationship with Adrien. That was- that was just cruel.

What, was Adrien not allowed to have a happy relationship just because Mr. Agreste couldn't, because his wife was missing? That was dumb.

Tom would show him a negative effect on company image.

"I- I guess I have to do that, then," Marinette sniffed, wiping her eyes, and Tom pulled himself out of his plans for a street fight, maybe, or going to Madam Chamack and having her run a story on Mr. Agreste's interference, and looked to her daughter. Despite the shock, she was clearly trying to pull herself together. "A-Adrien loves school, and it's not- we weren't dating that long. M-maybe we can try again l-later, if Mr. Agreste changes his mind-"

"We are not bowing to Mr. Agreste's delusional demands," Tom told her, his eyes catching on the camera that was installed in the corner of the bakery and his anger abruptly receding as a plan hit him. The camera was a newer addition, one that Sabine had insisted on after several attacks had taken them out of the bakery, leaving it unstaffed. They hadn't had any problems with thievery, but they didn't want to take that chance. He caught Marinette's shoulder, turning her towards the camera and pointing. "You know, I was a little unconvinced when your mom insisted on getting a camera with audio recording as well because it was far more expensive and I didn't see the use, but I'm glad she did now. We've got evidence of Mr. Agreste's threats."

Marinette sniffed again. "I- what?"

"We won't let this stand, Marinette," Tom told her. "That threat of his, of pulling Adrien out of school if you don't break up with him- that is so out of line. It isn't tolerable, and could very well be an indication of more issues at home."

"I'm sure of it," Sabine finally chimed in. "There's been so many things that Adrien has told us about his home life that- well, some of it just doesn't sit right with me. And this- this is just the cherry on top."

Marinette nodded, jerky and tearful.

Tom patted her shoulder, steering her towards the back. "Why don't you go upstairs and text Adrien about what's going on. Don't break up with him, okay, sweetie? I'll get everything sorted out."

"But- but what if Nathalie is going straight to the school to pull Adrien out?" Marinette asked, clearly anxious. She was picking at her fingernails, a clear indication of how nervous she was. "And Mr. Agreste is just at home waiting to see if I break up with Adrien fast enough? I- Adrien worked so hard to get into school, and his father keeps threatening to take it away."

...so this was a reoccurring threat, then. Mr. Dupain was even less impressed.

"He can't possibly expect you to immediately turn around and break up immediately," Tom said instead. "That's unreasonable. You would need some time to get over the shock. So I think we have a little wriggle room."

"Since when has Mr. Agreste been reasonable?" Marinette asked, which- well, was a very valid point. She clung to his arm. "M-maybe we should break up, and then try again later- we can still be friends, Mr. Agreste didn't ban that."

"If this doesn't work, I would say stage a breakup and then date in secret," Tom told Marinette. "Keep Adrien in the loop, that's most important. Don't break up out of the blue without an explanation, that will just crush him. But I'm confident that I can get something worked out. Mr. Agreste can't be unreasonable and push you kids around like this without consequences, and it's about time he learned that."

Marinette considered that, then nodded and darted inside the bakery. Tom had a quick, hushed conversation with Sabine, and then retreated into a back room to make a call.

If Mr. Agreste thought that having Marinette and Adrien dating was somehow negatively impacting his company's image, then it was time to see how the company's precious image looked after Mr. Agreste got a visit from child protective services.

  The agent that Tom reached was very interested in what he had to say about Mr. Agreste. Apparently several of their agents had wondered what Adrien's home life was like after his mom's disappearance after seeing Mr. Agreste just straight-up vanish from public life, with his few public appearances making them no less concerned. Mr. Agreste was apparently not exactly giving off the image of a stable, reasonable parent, even to the largely uninvested bystander.

"We'll be over for a visit to see your footage," the agent told him. "And to talk to your daughter, as well, to hear what she knows. Threatening a healthy teenaged relationship like that, just to try to control Adrien...well, something tells me that that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"Yes, I thought the same," Tom agreed. "And Marinette said that Mr. Agreste has threatened to pull Adrien out of school for other minor perceived offenses before, and I've certainly heard plenty about the times that Adrien has suddenly not been allowed to go on outings with his friends, even if he had been told that he could go out before."

There was tapping at the other end of the line- the agent entering what Tom had just said in her computer, perhaps, or making note of more questions to ask. "All right. Do you think your daughter would be willing to answer some questions today? I know she must have just had quite a shock what with Mr. Agreste barging in and threatening her, but I'd like to move this case along as quickly as possible, before Mr. Agreste catches wind of what's going on and can start putting pressure on anyone to change their story."

Tom nodded, then remembered that there was no way for the agent to see that. "Of course. I think Marinette can talk today- she's a strong girl. She'll want to help Adrien right away."

"All right. We'll be there in a few minutes."

Tom thanked her and hung up.

"Any news?"

"They're coming right away," Tom told Sabine, following her back into the bakery front. "Threats to isolate kids like Mr. Agreste is doing are taken very seriously. And in Paris right now, they want to make sure that people aren't being abused, because of the threat of akumas."

Sabine let out a breath. "That makes sense. I'm glad they can work fast. Adrien and Marinette have been so happy together, so forcing them to break up, even for a little while..."

Tom nodded, quickly washing his hands before doing the rounds of the shop, rearranging things and making sure that there was enough stock in front. A couple of things needed to be refilled- a quick run to the back took care of those problems easily enough- and by the time everything was just how he wanted it, a pair of child protection agents had arrived.

"Tom Dupain?" the first one asked, sticking out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Sylvia Faye. We just talked on the phone?"

"Hi," Tom said at once. "Yes, I'm Tom, and this is my wife, Sabine. Marinette is upstairs- oh, I probably should have given her a heads-up," he added, wincing. Whoops. He had been so nervous about the agents coming that...well, warning Marinette had kind of slipped his mind. "I'll show you guys up, then give her a minute's warning once we're there."

"Fantastic." Sylvia and her coworker followed him at once, into the back and up the stairs. "Now, we'll be asking Marinette and Adrien as well, but can you think of anyone else who could truthfully vouch for what Adrien's home life is like? We're going to end up having to interview everyone in the household, of course, but we don't want to give Mr. Agreste too much of a heads-up and allow him time to rehearse excuses for everything by approaching someone loyal to him right away."

Tom thought about it. "Well, there would be the teachers at school- they would be able to provide a, ah, less biased view of Adrien and Marinette's relationship than Sabine and I might..."

Sylvia's lips twitched towards a smile. "You mean they wouldn't accidentally refer to Adrien as your future son-in-law."

"...yes." He wasn't good at being put on the spot, that was Tom's only defense. Also, he had once said something similar to Adrien, and it had since become a bit of an inside joke. "And Adrien's other friends- Nino Laffe and Alya Césaire, and then, ah, his friend from fencing- Kagami Tsurugi? I think her mom is friends of a sort with Gabriel, so Kagami has seen Mr. Agreste more often than some of Adrien's other friends. Adrien has private tutors for all sorts of things- piano, Chinese, probably some other stuff that I've forgotten- but I don't know how likely they would be to side with him over Mr. Agreste. And- oh! Adrien's bodyguard. Mr. Agreste's secretary has always felt somewhat off to me, but his bodyguard clearly cares for Adrien."

Sylvia jotted that down. "Fantastic."

"I don't know if he can speak, though," Tom added, remembering all of the times when he had seen Gerald- also known as the Gorilla, which (oddly enough) he didn't seem to mind. "I've never heard him talk. Adrien might be able to tell you more, though."

"Ah, that sounds like a good lead." Sylvia smiled as they reached the landing, and Tom pushed open the door to lead the two of them into their living room. "I take it we should wait here?"

"If you would." Tom gestured to the sofa, then headed up the stairs to Marinette's room. He tapped on the trapdoor, then stuck his head in. "Marinette? I called some people about Mr. Agreste's threats, and they'd like to talk to-" He cut off abruptly as his eyes cleared the floor and spotted Marinette on her chaise lounger, curled up with...Adrien.

Huh. How had Adrien gotten in? Tom had been downstairs in front of the door and in the hallway ever since Mr. Agreste's appearance, with the exception of only a very few short minutes. For Adrien to have somehow managed to slip in during that time...

"Chat Noir saw me trying to slip out and brought me over," Adrien volunteered at once. He cringed. "I- I wasn't planning on making a habit of this, sir, I swear."

Aha. That made sense. "I'll have to thank him the next time I see him, then." Tom climbed fully into the room, crossing over to the two teens and pulling up a chair. "Adrien, after the scene with your father earlier- Marinette has told you about it, right?"

Adrien nodded, exchanging a glance with Marinette. Their fingers were wound together tightly, curled up as though they didn't want to part. "Yeah. That's why I was trying to come over. I- I don't know what's gotten into him! He liked Marinette! She won his design contest, and was great about switching out the feather on the hat so that I wouldn't sneeze on the runway, and has come home with me for lunch before and it was all fine then. And it's not like anything should have changed since she was last over at my house! He's not talked to me about us at all." Adrien snorted, but it sounded sad. "Or at all, really. As usual."

Marinette wriggled closer to him, her legs pressed against his and practically in his lap, and the two of them exchanged a look.

"Yes, well... what he's trying to do- the way that he's trying to manipulate you and Marinette- that's not normal in any way, shape, or form, and it's not okay. I called child protection services."

Adrien's eyes widened. "Oh."

"And they're here right now. They wanted to speak to Marinette, but since you're here as well..." Tom studied Adrien, trying to gauge his response. Considering Adrien's acting training- something that he had told the Dupain-Chengs about over dinner one night- it was hard to tell exactly what the boy was feeling, but he didn't seem nearly as torn about that as Tom might have expected.

Maybe it was because their family had fully embraced him, accepting him as family, too, and so losing his father- well, he wouldn't be losing everything.

"I can do that," Adrien agreed. He paused. "So, ah, one at a time, I'm assuming? Or...?"

Tom glanced towards the open trapdoor. "Well, there are two of them so, ah..."

"May we come up?" Sylvia called. "I heard that Adrien is here?"

Both teens nodded, so Tom called back an affirmation. Moments later, Sylvia and her companion- oh, Tom should have asked for her name, where had his manners gone?- came into the room.

"Hi, Adrien and Marinette," Sylvia said at once, heading over to where Adrien and Marinette were curled up. Tom could see her professional gaze taking in the way they were curled up together and he winced, hoping that she wouldn't decide that Mr. Agreste's sudden, random decision to end his son's relationship might have some merit to it after all because of them getting too serious too fast. "I'm Sylvia Faye, and this is my colleague Alice Durand. We're both agents at France's child protection agency, and we'd like to be able to talk to both of you about your home life, Adrien."

"Together, or..?" Adrien asked, exchanging a look with Marinette.

"Separately, if we could. We don't want one person's answers influencing the other person." She glanced back at Tom. "And we'd like to be able to talk to you and your wife after this, Mr. Dupain. I know you have a business to run, but..."

"This is far more important," Tom assured her at once. "Everything else can wait."

  Sylvia and Alice talked to Adrien and Marinette for quite a while. Alice finished talking to Marinette first, and then came down to talk to Tom. He left the back bakery in the very capable hands of his staff, then sat down in the break room to tell her everything. Every interaction he had had with Mr. Agreste and his staff, what he had heard from Adrien and Marinette, all about Adrien and Marinette's friendship and relationship.

Tom made sure to wrack his memory for everything he had ever heard. Right before they wrapped up, he remembered the story of Marinette's gift to Adrien on his birthday, only a little over a month after meeting him.

"She made this scarf- hours and hours of work, with very fine yarn- for a kid her age, it was expensive, too," Tom told Alice. "And she brought it over to Adrien's house to deliver it. Her name was on the package at one point-" the fact that there may have been some breaking and entering to get Marinette's name on was irrelevant, really- "but Adrien showed up at school with the scarf the next day, under the impression that it was his father who had given the gift to him. Marinette didn't tell him that it was her, because he was so happy about it- apparently Mr. Agreste had just given Adrien a pen for his birthday for several years running prior to that, so a scarf was a huge deal. I still don't think she's told him."

Alice had frozen. "He stole a gift from- good lord." She was shaking her head. "The emotional manipulation that we're seeing here..."

She didn't continue. Tom suspected that she probably wasn't allowed to say much more. Anything that Adrien and Marinette told her was in confidence.

"We're going to talk to a few more people today," Alice told him. "Sylvia is still talking to Adrien, so I'll talk to your wife and then go get one of our other agents to help me do other interviews. If Mr. Agreste or his assistant come by again, let us know right away."

"Of course."

"And if you think of anything more to tell us- well, Sylvia will leave her contact info," Alice told him. "Just shoot us a message."

Tom nodded again, then ducked out to go up front and take over for Sabine so that she could talk to Sylvia. Marinette was up front as well, decorating petits fours for an order they had. She looked a lot better, steadier than she was before but still quiet.

"Do you think that they'll do anything about Mr. Agreste?" Marinette asked Tom after a few minutes, after the few people in the bakery had been served and had left. She had put her piping bag down, and he could see her hands shaking. "I mean, he gives Adrien food, and quality tutors, and a roof over his head, and he hasn't- well, as far as I know, he hasn't hit him."

"Hitting isn't the only form of abuse, sweetheart," Tom told her. "Emotional manipulation, at the level that Mr. Agreste does- well, even if Adrien doesn't get removed from his father's care, they're going to keep a close eye on the situation and check in regularly. That by itself might be enough to keep Mr. Agreste in line."

Marinette nodded, but her brow furrowed. "And- and if it doesn't? If he has connections- he's rich, he's friends with the Bourgeois family, who knows who else he knows-"

"And we have connections, too. I'd like to see how that-" Tom hastily reconsidered his word choice, no matter how angry he was he did still have to control himself in front of his daughter- "arrogant man would react if that footage got 'leaked' to Madam Chamack. He might be famous and connected, but public opinion can ruin those people."

Marinette's eyes flashed to him. "You- you'd do that, Papa?"

"Of course." He hoped that it wouldn't come to that, of course, but he had stood by and trusted that the authorities would do the right thing one too many times when it came to bullies at Marinette's school. "We want to keep you and Adrien safe, no matter what it takes. Maybe going on the news would be a little underhanded, but if it's necessary..."

The smile on Marinette's face was more than welcome as Tom watched her turn back to her petit fours, noticeably steadier. He turned his attention back to the store as a new rush of people came in, focusing on them and doing his best to not seem off at all. He didn't run the front of the store as often as Sabine did, but he could still manage well enough. Marinette finished up with the order of petits fours, boxing them up neatly and putting them to the side before cleaning up, clearly trying to focus on that instead of worrying about what was going on upstairs.

Tom was worried. Even more so after Alice finished up talking to Sabine and headed out to go collect another agent and do more interviews, but there had been no signs of Sylvia or Adrien yet.

Maybe it was just- well, Adrien had been in that household for years before they knew him. There were probably more things that he had experienced but never told them. Of course he was going to have more to tell the agent than they did. It was unfortunate that he had to talk about all of his awful experiences all at once, one after the other, without so much as a break, but hopefully it would all end with Adrien being removed from a toxic situation.

They could only hope.

  They got the news before the sun set and Mr. Agreste came looking for his son: Adrien was, at least temporarily, being removed from his father's household.

"We don't like to have kids stay in their homes when there's an ongoing investigation," Sylvia told Tom when she called with the update. "It can result in the parents lashing out at their kids, and that can turn really ugly, particularly since we have Hawkmoth looming over everyone's heads. Ah, about housing for tonight..."

"We do have a guest room," Tom told her. "Which, son-in-law jokes aside, we will insist that Adrien stay there instead of in Marinette's room. They're far too young for that."

"Ah. Fantastic." Sylvia sounded relieved. "Adrien indicated that he would prefer to stay with you guys for the time being. We'll probably look into a different placement long-term once the investigation has wrapped up- from what we've heard and seen today, I'm confident that we will end up charging Gabriel Agreste with emotional abuse and manipulation- but that has nothing to do with your household, I assure you. It's just that we prefer not to place kids with the families of the person they're dating. It can get messy if anything goes wrong."

Tom could understand that. "Right, right, of course."

"After today's interviews, we're looking at Adrien's current bodyguard as a more permanent placement, but again, things can change."

He knew that the man seemed trustworthy. And it was nice that Adrien would be able to stay in Paris and with someone he knew. If Adrien was taken away from his controlling, manipulative father, only to be sent away from Paris and Marinette and all of his other friends, he would be crushed.

"We'll keep you updated," Sylvia promised. "And someone might drop by tomorrow to check up on Adrien's sleeping situation. It's not that we don't trust you, it's just..."

"You have to make sure that kids aren't going from one bad situation into another," Tom finished. "Or staying in a household that's not equipped to handle them, I understand. It's no problem. Ah, will Adrien have a chance to get back to his house to grab his clothes and school things soon? We're willing to buy supplies for him, of course, but I'm sure he'd like some of his own things."

"We can arrange that," Sylvia promised. "Now, ah, we're going to be calling Mr. Agreste and letting him know soon. I would suggest, just based on what we've seen from him, that you lock down your house and business so that he doesn't try to barge in."

Ah, that was a good point. It wouldn't stop any akumas if Mr. Agreste flew into a rage and caught Hawkmoth's attention, probably, but it should deter Mr. Agreste if he decided to storm over. "Will do."

"And again, thank you for calling us," Sylvia finished. "We can only do our work when people act as our eyes and ears for the children of Paris. Have a good evening, Mr. Dupain."

"And to you as well."

Tom flashed a thumbs-up at Sabine as he hung up the phone, and she perked up. "Good news?"

"He's not going home tonight. I get the impression that they're pretty confident that Mr. Agreste will end up losing custody, but of course they're not going to call that for a bit." Tom was feeling quite triumphant as he headed to the front door, double- and triple-checking that it was locked. Then he triggered the security system, locking down their shutters over the windows and the door. Just in case. "They said to make sure that we're locked down, so that Mr. Agreste can't retaliate. So I'm going to do that before I help you clean up if that's all right?"

Sabine nodded, clearly anxious. "Of course. They're calling him soon, then?"

"Right after they called us." Tom ducked into the back hallway, making sure that that door was locked, too, before heading into the bakery. The delivery door had to be checked, as did the emergency exit, and the few windows, just in case.

Maybe he was just being paranoid, but... well, Mr. Agreste didn't seem like the most stable of people, and it was better to be safe than sorry.

By the time the last lock had been checked and double-checked, Sabine had finished up the cleaning and had headed upstairs. Tom set up the alarm system- he would have to put several notes in their room and on the stairs so that they wouldn't be alarmed by it tomorrow morning- and headed upstairs, where Adrien was actually smiling as he helped Marinette get dinner ready, circling around her like she was his sun and he was her earth like he always did.

Honestly, Tom, had been worried that Adrien would be taking this whole investigation harder than he was. Maybe having Marinette there and the support of their entire family was a bigger help than he had anticipated.

No matter the reason, Tom wasn't about to complain.

  It didn't take long for Gabriel Agreste to get declared unfit for parenting. He flew into a rage about it, of course, but the child protection services weren't about to budge.

Perhaps he hadn't abused Adrien physically, but the emotional manipulation and neglect were enough to throw up all of the red flags in the agents' minds. And as if that weren't enough, apparently Gerald had brought up some other concerns he had had about Mr. Agreste's behavior following the disappearance of his wife, suspicious activity that he had never really told anyone about before.

Apparently Gabriel Agreste had never really been investigated for his wife's disappearance, or at least the investigation that he had undergone was short and very much inadequate. Someone at the police station had been paid off, they suspected, and so no attention had been paid to if his story made sense, if it had been verified, if- well, anything, really.

So Mr. Agreste had been called into the police station along with Nathalie- apparently he had had to be told that so, he could not just call in via his tablet or get interviewed in his office at home, and that suggestion had been received none too kindly by the police officers who had been re-assigned the case. While he was out of the house, Adrien and Marinette were going over to get more of Adrien's clothes. Gerald had been able to smuggle a small bag of Adrien's things out earlier, but Adrien had more things that he wanted to pick up, too, and he wanted to have more changes of clothing.

Tom had offered to come along to help, but the two of them had insisted that they would be fine, and anyway the Gorilla was going to be there to pick up the suitcases and bring them over to his house afterwards, since Adrien was staying there now. So Tom let them be and went about his day, throwing himself into the bakery work and making sure that everything was running smoothly. He made sure to ensure that his bakers knew how to run everything without him, because if he got called away again to support Adrien throughout any other legal stuff that needed to be done, it would be better if the bakery could still stay open.

His staff, of course, were well-trained and experienced, knowing exactly where all of the books were kept with the lists of what needed to be made when. Tom beamed in pride, plenty proud of how well they had learned.

They were like a second family, really. Most of the bakers were people he had taken in as interns as the bakery grew, and he had brought them from floundering culinary school graduates to confident bakers and patisserie-makers.

Tom was bringing empty bread baskets back to the back kitchens to clean them out when the side doors banged open, and Adrien and Marinette came flying in. Adrien looked far closer to tears than he ever had before, barely holding himself together. Marinette was pale, practically green, as she clung to Adrien.

What had happened?

"We- we found some stuff," Marinette managed when Tom rushed over, leaving the baskets on the hallway floor. She pressed a fist to her lips, clearly trying to pull herself together. "Since Mr.- Mr. Agreste was out, and Nathalie, too, we explored a little bit, and we found- we found-"

"Mom," Adrien choked out. "I don't know what- what's wrong with her, b-b-but..."

...okay, they needed the police. Right now.

"We'll find out," Tom promised. He placed a gentle hand on each of their shoulders, guiding them upstairs. Some settling tea and a few cozy blankets was definitely in order. They didn't know when Hawkmoth could strike, so it was important to help as quickly as possible.

...but seriously, the police hadn't looked hard enough to find anything suspicious after Mrs. Agreste's disappearance, but Adrien and Marinette were able to find Mrs. Agreste while just exploring? That was- that really painted a really terrible picture of the police, honestly.

(Was Tom surprised? No, not really- disappointed, definitely, but not at all surprised.)

Adrien was shaking as he headed up the stairs, hard enough that he nearly stumbled several times. Marinette was steadier, clearly having had a huge shock as well but seeing Adrien so shaken was helping pull her back from the same sort of breakdown that Adrien seemed to be having.

If they had actually found Mrs. Agreste- well, heaven knew what kind of state she was in. If she had been dead this whole time, there was very little that would have kept her actually looking intact. If she was- what? Sick? In a coma?- then why hadn't Mr. Agreste gone to hospital experts to help?

This whole thing- it was weird.

"Should I text Gerald and ask him if Adrien can stay the night?" Tom asked, aiming the question largely at Marinette. She seemed the most likely to be able to respond, after all. "I know you're not left alone all the time like you were before, Adrien, but if being with Marinette would help..."

Adrien nodded, a jerky little move of his head. Tom mentally patted himself on the back. That was a victory, no matter how small.

"I'm going to put some water on for tea," he told them as they straggled up the last few stairs and headed for the living room door. He paused to head over to the linen closet and pull out a big, fuzzy blanket. "And then you two can snuggle up on the couch while I call the police."

Adrien nodded again, but he didn't look entirely focused. Marinette hugged him tighter, pressing her face into his neck briefly before moving back slightly.

Tom hustled them in, wrapping them up before putting the kettle on and rustling through their packets of tea to find the kind he was thinking of. It was good for helping with shock, and they had stocked up on it after the first akuma attack- after all, while they might have turned almost into background noise at this point, there were some particularly nasty ones that were especially nightmare-inducing, and it was best to be prepared. He had just found the box he was looking for when the sound of feet pattering quickly across the floor and the bathroom door slamming shut caught Tom's attention. He spun around, spotting Marinette sitting alone on the couch, looking startled. Seconds later, the sounds of retching from the bathroom told Tom exactly why Adrien had made such a hasty exit.

"Marinette, what happened?" Tom asked quietly, stepping towards his daughter. Her eyes had been trained on the bathroom door, but snapped to him quickly enough. "I need to know so that I can call the police. What did you find?"

Marinette worried her lip for a second before saying anything. "We- we were just exploring-" Her words trailed off, and she have herself a good shake. "Adrien had asked the Gorilla about what suspicious activity he saw, just out of curiosity. I don't think he told him everything, probably, but he had told Adrien about what he thought was maybe a hidden elevator in Mr. Agreste's office. So we went looking, and the buttons- they were hidden in this painting of his mom. And we experimented a bit, because you could kind of see the spots that had been pressed a lot, and it worked, and brought us to this underground chamber."

...Tom had so many questions. Why they couldn't just wait for the police to investigate definitely topped the list.

"There were buttons that we didn't push, though," Marinette continued with a frown. "Like they were part of a different combination, one that would make the elevator go somewhere else. And the tunnel that we went down- there was a split in it, a track that led up instead of down. He's got to be hiding something else."

Tom blinked, a little taken aback by both the hyper-focused look on Marinette's face and the fact that apparently, despite the (definitely traumatic) experience that she had just gone through with finding Adrien's mom in whatever condition she was in, Marinette had managed to notice, remember, and think about what the worn buttons and the extra tunnel might mean. If he had been in that position- well, Tom was pretty sure that he would have been all but useless to the police because of the shock, especially when he was Marinette's age.

"In the chamber- it had a metal walkway, and water running underneath, and the walls were rock. It was huge, like a church." Marinette's eyes went distant, and Tom wondered if he should maybe be taking notes so that he would know everything to be able to report it. "And there was this little garden at the end, and a- it looked like a glass coffin sort of thing, and there were machines tucked under it- they were beeping, so I think she's still alive, maybe, but if she's been down there over a year..."

Tom cringed. That was...not promising. Not at all- unless.

Unless there was magic involved. And the only way that there might be magic involved was-

Tom pushed the thought away. He wasn't going to think it, not now. They already had enough things to be concerned about, and if magic was involved...well, the police would come to the same conclusion soon enough, and then it would be Ladybug and Chat Noir's concern. Marinette and Adrien didn't need to get even more tangled up in this.

"There were butterfly cocoons, too," Marinette said quietly, and Tom startled. How had she noticed that when there was the practically-dead body (he was assuming, but based on what he had heard it was probably accurate) of her boyfriend's mom in front of her? "Little white cocoons all over the plants. We didn't look closer, because Adrien was about to be sick, but..." She trailed off as Adrien exited the bathroom, looking even more shaky than before. Tom was up at once, half-carrying Adrien back over to the couch and wrapping him up in the blanket with Marinette.

Shock was a hell of a problem to have to deal with. And if Adrien had been even half as observant as Marinette had and come to the same conclusion that Tom had...well, it was a miracle that he had managed to make it back to the bakery at all.

The teapot whistling was a welcome interruption.

Tom watched them out of the corner of his eye as he quickly prepared two cups of tea. Adrien was practically curled up in Marinette's lap, his head tucked under her chin as she ran her fingers through his hair. She was whispering to him, dipping her head down to press a kiss to Adrien's hair. He could make out the occasional word from where he stood, kinda-sorta-definitely eavesdropping.

Kitty seemed to come up pretty often, oddly enough. Maybe it was a pet name- Adrien and Marinette seemed to like using those fairly often. It was a little odd for a pet name, admittedly, but it might be an inside joke or something.

"Tea for you two- careful, it's hot," Tom told them after a couple minutes of steeping. He carried the two cups over, pulling their coffee table closer to Adrien and Marinette so that they could easily reach the cups. "And I'm going to step out and call the police. If you need anything...well, I'm not going far."

Marinette nodded, glancing down at Adrien in her lap. Tom waited for a moment to see if they needed anything, then headed out, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he did. It took a moment for him to pull up the non-emergency number- after all, nothing was on fire- and dial. Someone picked up right away.

"Hello, may I speak to a sergeant?" Tom asked, doing his best not to rush his words. "This is Tom Dupain, and I have some information regarding Emilie Agreste's disappearance...and possibly also Hawkmoth's identity."

  With Mr. Agreste already at the police station, it was easy enough for them to come up with an excuse to separate him and his Miraculous, and Nathalie from the Peacock Miraculous as well. Apparently they told each of them individually that they needed to go to a back room, and would need to remove any jewelry to go through the metal detector. They had both been irritated by the whole thing, Tom had been told- apparently Mr. Agreste had been deeply offended that anyone would even consider that he might do something to his wife- but had been acting outwardly cooperative, which meant that all jewelry came off and into the storage bins. Even the Miraculous.

Somehow Ladybug had heard about the discovery and showed up long enough to reclaim the Miraculous and thank the police for their clever work in getting the Miraculous off without a fight. She had also heard about the discovery of Mrs. Agreste and her condition, and promised to send an expert to the hospital where she had been transferred as soon as possible to see if there was anything that could be done.

Tom was of the opinion that Ladybug was actually superhuman. Like, not just a human with a Miraculous, like Gabriel Agreste had been, but a superhuman with a Miraculous on top. How else had she managed to hear about everything so fast, before things had even gone public? It was incredible.

And of course, with the evidence piling up against him, there was no way that Mr. Agreste was ever going to get custody of Adrien again. Not, of course, that he would be able to, not when he was going to end up behind bars for quite a while.

Whether or not Mrs. Agreste would wake up- and if she would pass the inspection that the child protection agents would no doubt level at her- still remained to be seen. Tom was hoping that she would wake up, for Adrien's sake, and that she was a better parent than his father. Gerald was a good guardian, from what they could see, but of course it would be even better if Adrien had a loving parent, one who would actually treat him right.

Adrien was clearly still reeling, but he seemed to be coming back slowly. Marinette was with him, of course, and Sabine had turned over the counter to Tom for the rest of the afternoon so she could go up and stay with the two of them. Gerald was going to be coming as soon as he had gotten Mrs. Agreste settled and her paperwork at the hospital completed, and then Adrien would have one more person who cared about him to help get him through his shock.

Tom couldn't help but smile, a hint of triumph dancing along the edges of his lips. He hadn't known, of course, that he would be setting in motion a chain of events that would end up taking down Hawkmoth and Mayura when he called the child protection agents- it was a very unexpected outcome- but he couldn't deny that he was maybe just a bit proud of that.

Soon enough, the news would be breaking to the rest of the city, and everyone in Paris would know who Hawkmoth and Mayura had been. The impact on the Gabriel brand would leave the employees reeling, probably- the one thing that Tom felt bad about, but it wasn't his fault, but Mr. Agreste's. If he hadn't turned to supervillainry...

Tom could understand wanting to do anything for his wife, because the thought of losing Sabine- well, it wasn't a thought that he wanted to entertain. But there were boundaries that had to be respected. Grief wasn't a fun thing to go through, but it was healthy to be able to remember those that had been lost but move on anyway, instead of becoming shut off from the world and manipulating others.

No matter what happened, though, with Mrs. Agreste and the fallout from Hawkmoth's reveal, at least Adrien and Marinette would be safe. There would be no threats from parents, no attempts at emotional manipulation, no unstable supervillains trying to target them. They could be happy together, just like any other teenagers. If any other threats came along...well, Tom would do his best to help get them through it.

After all, they had been through quite enough already.

[shadowtongued]

long headcanon about the duality of love and the mahjarrat condition pertaining to it from his point of view. if you read all this babble i swear to god, i love you, i hope you have a good day. cw: sex addiction, child neglect, unhealthy coping, unrequited pains. reason for writing: hi i want to die bc of angst.

i think we all know even without playing medieval xp grind lore game, runescape, that sliske is old. very old. he tells us in endgame there's not much he hasn’t done with his life over thousands of years, even traveling to other planets and realms to just see what was out there and how far he could get. i’ve always projected his age as somewhere between more than 8,000 or even more than 10,000. we’re never given a timeline to how long the children of mah have lived. sliske has done a lot with his time; he’s killed a god, had quite a few elder relics in his grasp, SPOKEN to a elder god and managed not to die, mastered shadow magicks, has an excellent grasp on the shadow realm. he’s good with biology, chemistry, has a fair understanding of soul magic which is kind of a rare brand of knowledge, he’s tricked probably thousands into bad contracts to become wights in his army, understands the psychology and bad morals of people. he was a playwright, a high ranking officer, a spymaster. dude is just a determined polymath. you know what he hasn’t done? love. he’s never got to play with love.

mahjarrat are explained as having emotions, but dulled ones. they feel rage and pride apparently better than others. kharshai said after years of really believing he was a human, that when he came back to his true form he states “i  feel raw power coursing through my veins. i don't feel pain like i used to, and i'm sure my intellect has increased. but somehow there is something missing. a capacity for emotion that i can't quite put my finger on.” they aren’t equipped for the same range of positive emotions as others are. they feel it, but they don’t understand it fully, it has been said by developers. this whole bit is sadly funny considering in canon, sliske catches feelings. he doesn’t realize he’s attracted to the player character. it’s stated many times, in his journals, in dialogue, etc. he believes their fates are tangled no matter what. and the saddest bit is he probably doesn’t understand these feelings and it confuses him to the point of anger.  “ love! a mahjarrat in love? ... i almost wish that were true. it would certainly make the universe a more interesting place. ” “ so perhaps i have loved you. but that doesn’t mean i have to like you.”  sliske’s main goal started off as to take the players immortal, unable to be crushed by the divine, soul and give it to himself so he could live forever, as mahjarrats do not have afterlives, once they die they are done, evaporated into energy. but in endgame we learn something from him hidden in masks that refutes that;

“I love you for more than your soul.”

you STUPID fucker, you’re in love.

the remainder of this is a lot of NON-CANON, personal headcanon interpretation that pretty much only works on this blog. as a rough summary: sliske’s ol’ mum was not fond of her kids, half-brother wahisietel or sliske since she did not see them as powerful as herself and was disappointed that's what her legacy came out to. a short, beefy, average at magic son, she had another go and was still disappointed with this spidery, scrawny, gifted but absolutely annoying stick underweight child. his father, saw him once or twice in his life and that was it. dyeosuthua wanted nothing more than to make them disappear and try again until she got offspring she didn’t want to throw into a lava pit in secrecy, infanticide was against tribal law due to population issues. sliske’s mother’s neglect was so severe, ( by the absolute boundless joys of rp development and mutual heacanons ♥ ) that wahi and nabor had an attempt at raising him and keeping him from freezing to death. why is all this jargon important? because while all mahjarrats are raised by tough love, sliske’s attention deprivation from his mother was so severe, he grew up and still has a slew of reactive attachment, psychological, and social issues he still carries as an adult. several times she threatened to kill him and almost made good on it more than twice. when wahisietel had proven he was a survivor of the first ritual of rejuvenation, sliske became dyeosuthua’s  main target for abuse despite his gift for magic at a young age. nothing he did could impress her enough. and it left him constantly seeking approval and validation to an insecure mind.

the more he grew, the more confident he became mainly out of spite and to get attention. he’s loud, charming, makes you the only person in the room when he talks to you. he has an innate silver-tongued ability that persuades people to do just about anything. it was a front for his insecurities that he kept very very closed up. in the second age/senntisten capital, sliske had a pretty severe sex addiction as it was one of the few ways he felt validated and was able to get affection in a way he could digest. people with reactive attachment disorders often have sex addictions to fill the space of acceptance without having to commit.. easy, feel good intimacy without having to open up and let someone learn about your vulnerabilities and commit. it was pretty severe, considering mahjarrats find any kind of breeding or intimacies outside their ‘superior species’ as downright foul. sliske had always been the black sheep of the tribe and with his status as praefectus praetorio; head of secret police, really nothing put a damper on him trying to fill the void for affection he had. there wasn’t a species or individual he wouldn’t bed. he would easily take up propositions even for people who just wanted to fuck a mahjarrat because it was ‘exotic’ or because of his status as an officer, he now looks back on this and it bruises his insecurities even more that he allowed himself to do that. not out of pride for his species. but himself, being just a thing to be had because of rarity. azzanadra and his brother, wahisietel found out about it and while disgusted, partially understood what he was doing to negatively self soothe. at one point sliske and azzanadra, the champion of their god and head of the church, as well of one of the strongest living of their kin, had a lasting tryst for a few years and for awhile it made sliske feel very much self important in a way and alleviated his need to be needed so badly, this did not end well when sliske grew tired of their empire and wanted freedom. once childhood best friends and lovers had become absolute enemies once sliske became too unstable and azzanadra became too zealous. 

sliske gave up his sexcapades for a long time, thousands of years, his libido dropped when he became interested in other projects and self healing when he was hit with the idea that he hasd essentially allowed himself to be an exotic fling and still burned over becoming his god, zaros, scapegoat after all he had done for him. love was a weird concept to him and still is. despite being adamant love doesn’t exist for his kind, and his belief that he is flawed, unstable, and embraced the idea of ‘you want a monster? fine! i’ll be the monster!’. he expects no pity, not be forgiven to things he has done and even in game when you sycophantically try to cozy to him, he straight up calls out your text choice was awful considering some of the shitty things he might have done to you. to sliske, all attention to him is attention, whether you’re praising or insulting him. he’s on your mind, he exists, that’s all he wants.

backstory aside the real part of this headcanon is that sliske actually wants love. it’s the only thing aside from an immortal soul he hasn’t had. sliske actually has an attraction to humans because they are empathetic, curious, passionate, and determined. he has an easier time assimilating and being around them since he has ALWAYS had a better sense of humor, socializing, and happiness than his kin. he feels emotions a lot stronger than his fellow mahjarrats. it allows him to talk to and connect to humans and humanlike species better. others of his kind have told him there’s “something wrong” with him for that. he’s actually a romantic, even if he’s just mimicking romance stories, movies, and actions from others. he thinks the idea of settling with one person and loving them is both mortifying and interesting. opening yourself up to someone and giving them the hammer to smash your cherry-red painted porcelain heart and seeing if they do, to him might be the ultimate form of trust and biggest gamble of russian roulette. the stakes are so heavy he’s high on the idea. but it’s also horrifying. mahjarrat are prolific for not opening up, not allowing others in, vulnerability out in the open is a death sentence. they live in a kratocracy/meritocracy where they kill off the weakest link. it’s not pretty. being soft is a useless, unnecessary, weak gene to them. it dampers survival. 

but yet sliske keeps reading romance novels, writing his own confused poetry, and getting into unrequited one sided loves but practicing a backstabbing betrayal when one gets too close. i have to hurt them before they hurt me, betray and cut them down before they can do it to me. i think he wants to be loved. i think he kinda wants to be taught to love, for the emotions and the sake of knowledge. ( brb james newton howard’s ‘true love’s kiss’ from maleficent just came on spotify and i think i’m going to die bc i did not ask for background music thanks!!! ) he wouldn’t be the best at it, maybe a little too possessive with you, codependent, but very nurturing and fun loving. will sepnd a whole week spooning you.. people who hurt you past, present, and future may end up dead in mysterious ways or turned into a wight for you to beat the shit out of. but he’d try. he’s still got a broken child sitting behind his third rib. i think he would snarl the first few times someone genuinely got close to him, it would terrify him, being known on such a skinned, raw level. having gentle touches that are real and not a come hither to the bedroom. being known for something other than the confident, ego he has is death. he could be taught to be gentle for a crumb of consistent attention. might even cut down the murders and god killing down by 15%. love is not going to fix him, it’s not going to forgive the actual shitty things he’s done. it should never do that. but it will turn the lights on in a dark house.

love could really break him. i think so. i’d type more but this has gone on too long and i feel sad-happies. 

[jace-todd]

Hahaha I wrote a todoshin story. @bakushinsquad newest post. Yeah here's my crappy story.

Really, he knew that something like this was bound to happen. He had heard all about Endeavor’s shitty behavior towards his family from late nights with Shouto, the other curled up around him, tears still spilling down his face from a nightmare. He’s heard of all the times that Endeavor was too hard on Shouto or his brother, Touya, who had been considered dead for a while now. He had heard all about the quirk marriage, about what his mother had done to him, about where his mother was currently. He had heard about how Shouto’s sister, Fuyumi, was the only one who had a semi-decent relationship with their father. He had heard about Shouto’s brother, Natsuo, was the most aggressive towards their father, having outright arguments and being downright petty.

Shinsou knew it all, having gained Shouto’s trust after the many nights he comforted the dual-quirked boy after nightmares. Shouto had seemed to let it all out after hearing about one of Shinsou’s bad exploits with a father figure in his life. And for that, Shinsou would always have a sense of protectiveness over the kid.

Growing up, Shinsou was almost always the one protecting others. From bullies, teachers, foster parents, and even himself. It was second nature to him, something he didn’t even think twice about despite his usual think before you act attitude. When it came to saving others, he wouldn’t think twice about his own health, which had gotten him plenty of injuries and a decent number of scars.

Maybe it stemmed from trying to make up for all of the wrongs he had never done but everyone thought he’s done. Maybe it stemmed from his heroic desire, the longing in him to help people because no one deserves to go through what he’s going through, or has gone through. Or maybe it stemmed from something else, from his own stupid belief that maybe he deserved it. Deserved the pain that came from jumping in front of his little siblings when their foster father or mother raised their hands or moving them out of the way before a quirk hit.

He knew that ever since Shouto had confided in him that if Endeavor ever showed his face and intended to hurt Shouto, he would get in the way. Shouto didn’t deserve the pain from his father, no one did. And there was no way in hell, Shinsou was going to let Endeavor hurt him anymore.

And as expected, when it finally happened, he did jump in front of Shouto.

They had been working on hand-to-hand combat, Shouto paired against Uraraka, while Shinsou had been paired against Kaminari. It wasn’t a fair fight, but then again no one would’ve had a fair fight against him, other than maybe Ojiro, but they weren’t paired together after an incident. Shinsou had been taught to fight hand-to-hand since he was a kid, his criminal parents wanting him to know how to stand his ground, while the fights in the streets had wanted to underdog to win the fighting rings when he was 11. Shinsou had just wiped the floor with Kaminari again when the figure descended onto campus.

 

Shouto had gone stiff, arms falling to his side, and eyes watching his father land and start his walk towards Shouto. Aizawa hadn’t been paying attention, his back to the commotion, trying to deal with Bakugou and Midoriya who were arguing again. The rest of the class either continued fighting, glancing occasionally over, or stopped altogether.

Shinsou had helped Kaminari back up before starting his way over. He couldn’t tell what was being said between the duo, but he could tell that whatever Shouto was saying wasn’t pleasing his father. Endeavor was progressively getting angrier, his voice rising some, enough so that Shinsou could start to hear him, but blocked out the voice when he saw Endeavor start to raise his hand.

Logically, he knew that Endeavor wouldn’t hit Shouto in a public setting, especially not in front of heroes to come who had a decent amount of sway already, and another hero who was also respected. But that protective feeling consumed him and Shinsou using the capture device around his neck to swing closer, using a tree to swing around the rest of the way and land perfectly in front of Shouto.

Both Todoroki’s seemed surprised to see the hero student drop down between them, the conversation stopping. Shouto lifted a hand to rest on Shinsou’s shoulder, pushing some, “Hi-Shinsou, what are you doing?” He could hear Shouto’s own protective-instinct kicking in but ignored it as he stared directly into Endeavor’s eyes.

“Todoroki go get Aizawa. I’m going to have a talk with your father.” Shinsou held his ground, still holding the capture device at the ready.

Shinsou could hear Shouto begin to argue, but when he glanced behind him, his eyes soften and he gave a small smile, “Please.”

Reluctantly, Shouto let go of Shinsou’s shoulder, backing up before racing towards where Aizawa was holding Bakugou with the capture device, the blond acting feral again. Shinsou followed him with his eyes before turning back to the adult in front of him, finding a comfort in the fact that he was only a few inches shorter than the hero since his latest growth spurt.

Endeavor looked piss, and Shinsou wondered if there was steam coming out of his ears. Shinsou held his own ground as Endeavor lowered his arms to cross them over his chest. Just as Endeavor was about to speak, a word already leaving him, Shinsou cut him off.

“Don’t say anything. You’re going to listen to him, Mr. Number-One-Hero. You’re a shit person, father, and husband, forcing a woman to marry you to have kids that would be strong, then taking the childhood away from those kids. You isolated them from one another, trained them to exhaustion, traumatizing all of them. When your wife had a meltdown, you set her into a mental institution, because you know you couldn’t control her anymore and she hurt your masterpiece. But your masterpiece is a kid, was a kid when she hurt him. You never treated him like a kid. You only care about being famous, about being adored, about the money and title. He’s an emotionally screwed kid, estranged from reality and his siblings, because of you.

“You can’t afford a scandal, so you made sure that Shouto wouldn’t speak up about it. You got the cops to admit that Touya was assumed dead after just a day. You keep Natsuo silent, pulling the card of your connections of knowing the boss of his school. You are kind to Fuyumi, maybe because if Shouto does turn into your definition of a failure, you’re hoping you can turn her into a hero. Yeah, I know what her quirk is. You still try to control your kids, control Shouto and what he wants to do now.”

Shinsou channeled all he could remember from how his father acted when dealing with subordinates, the strength and firmness in his voice, the pure anger in his eyes. He was tired of Endeavor’s shit, and he knew that someone else needed to put Endeavor in his place alongside the siblings, someone who may not have hero connections, but had villain connections. He hated having the connections that he did have, but at times like this… he wouldn’t be afraid of pulling some of those strings and get Endeavor into more trouble.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Endeavor. You’re going to keep your distance from your kids, you’re going to leave Fuyumi to her job, you’re going to stop holding Natsuo’s education as a hostage, and you’re going to let Shouto be who he wants to be. Or so help me, I’ll expose everything about you, Endeavor. I may just be a second-year hero in training, but I’m not afraid to lose everything I’ve worked for to get your ass thrown in jail. Leave, Endeavor. You’re unwelcome here.”

Endeavor looked beyond angry now, lifting a flaming hand out to Shinsou, as if to get him to shut up or get rid of his anger. “Who the hell do you think you are, speaking to me like that?”

Shinsou smirked, “I’m Shinsou Hitoshi, nice to meet you.”

Behind him, he could hear some laughter, meaning that they had a crowd watching him. He could sense Aizawa’s presence behind him, along with Shouto’s. Aizawa looked between the two, before facing Endeavor.

“He’s right, Endeavor. You’re not welcome here without valid reason to be. Take your leave. Now.” Aizawa’s voice was firm, quirk activated and the fire around Endeavor faded.

As expected, Endeavor opened his mouth to argue back but realizing that all the kids seemed to be against him, that Aizawa was prepared to fight him, that he had lost this battle. He stepped back, anger still clear in his eyes. He searched the ground for his son, finding him already standing next to the purple kid who had gone after him.

“This isn’t over, Shouto. You’ll realize you need me, that my quirk is the better.”

Shouto shook his head, “No, father. It’s over. I’m done with you.”

With that, Endeavor took his leave, scorch marks filling the ground as he flew off. Shinsou was still tense as the rest of the kids stood around. They were all making sure Shouto was okay, praising the other for telling him no, etc. Shinsou was still standing tall, staring at Endeavor’s retreating figure. Aizawa’s hand found its way to his shoulder, startling from his trance.

Aizawa gave him a soft smile, “I’m proud of you, Shinsou, for sticking it to Endeavor and for protecting your friend.”

Shinsou gave him a smile, turning back to where Shouto was being embraced by the Dekusquad. Shouto peered over Iida’s shoulder, their eyes connecting for a moment, but that was all it took for Shouto to mouth ‘thank you’ at him before Shinsou looked away.

The rest of class got canceled, with Aizawa sending the students back to the dorm so he could deal with Endeavor’s appearance. Shinsou had hung back to catch his breath, everything that had just happened setting in like it always did.

He had thought he was alone when he slumped against the tree, pulling his legs to his chest, and laying his head against them, eyes sliding close. But when a hand fell to his hair, he was proven wrong. The familiar warm hand kept him from tensing though, only leaning more into the hold as he lifted his head to look at his boyfriend.

Shouto was kneeling in front of Shinsou’s spot, a smile on his face. The younger boy looked more at ease than he ever had after a visit from his father, which made Shinsou immensely happy. Shinsou lowered his legs, sitting cross-legged as he waited for Shouto to do something. And something he did, as the minute Shouto removed his hand from Shinsou’s hair, he launched onto the taller, hugging him tightly.

Shinsou’s arms came around Shouto’s waist, hugging him back. They sat like that for a while, Shouto in his lap, arms around one another, enjoying the other’s presence, before Shouto pulled away.

Shinsou flinched when Shouto flicked his forehead, “That was really stupid, Hitoshi. Something could’ve happened. He could’ve hurt you. My father has a short temper sometimes, especially when people challenge him like that. Never do that again.” Then he surged forward and kissed Hitoshi softly, causing the other to chuckle. “Also thank you, that was very sweet of you to protect me like that even though you know damn well I can hold my own.”

Shinsou placed his forehead against Shouto’s, staring into the mix-matching eyes. “I’d take a hit for you, any day, Shouto. Plus, someone had to stand up to him. I was tired of him being a little prick. Someone needed to put him into his place.” There was a pause before Shinsou looked away. “I didn’t want you to get hurt by him again.”

Shouto pressed another kiss to his lips, earning a content hum from the other, before pulling away. “I would take a hit for you, as well, Hitoshi. You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Shinsou beamed at the declaration, holding him closer. “I love you, too, Shouto. And I meant when I said, if he bothers you or your family like that again, let me know. I’ll make his life a living hell.”

Laughter from the other filled the area as Shouto rearranged so the two could lean fully against the tree. Things weren’t okay, but they were getting better. It was more bearable with the other by their side. With interlaced hands, Shinsou knew that Shouto would be okay from now on, that the other was reassured that he wasn’t alone anymore in this fight against his father. Now he had some friends and a boyfriend to fight with him. 

[always5hineee]

The Final Bell- Chapter 16: Exodus (Part 2)

Chapter warnings: Mild language, graphic content

Word count: 1648

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

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       The skyscrapers towered over them as they exited the van, the shadows casting across each other and giving everyone a sense of unease. As they settled on their feet, everyone stopped and listened, begging for the sweet chorus of silence. Unfortunately, a different symphony touched their ears. The moaning and screaming of what had to have been thousands racked the walls, some more recent than others. The place was definitely infested.

       "We're probably looking at about a half-population." Jaehyun said calmly, startling Y/N by cutting the air with his voice. She forgot how long it had been since they'd talked, and hearing his voice in such a direct manner caught her off guard. Doyoung agreed with his statement.

       "Based on the past statistics, I'd say so. That would mean for every thousand feet or so, each of us would be outnumbered 4 to 1." He said, validating Jaehyun's initial theory.

       "It may be better to just go around." Mark offered. "We may have enough gas to make it to an empty area."

       "We can't just leave Taeil." Jungwoo pointed out. "There's a high chance he's here." Rolling his eyes, Mark asked,

       "Oh, really? Has he answered his radio?"

       "No." Taeyong said. "And that's worrying."

       "If he doesn't answer, it's his fault if his ass gets left." He grumbled.

       "Mark!" The leader reprimanded him with a glare. Sighing, the boy backed off.

       "Sorry, sorry. We'll find him. So, do we split up, or stick together?" Y/N wasn't so sure she liked either of those options. Staying together was probably safer, but it meant that they would have to take several times longer to find Taeil. Who knew what insane situation he had gotten himself into at this point? Still, splitting up... the memory of her last experience doing so was still fresh in her mind. Thankfully, Taeyong made the decision for her.

       "Split up, we can cover more ground. No one wanders off alone, though. I don't care if you get in a fight or one of you gets injured, you stay together under all circumstances." Everyone nodded. "Alright, I'll go with Doyoung, Jungwoo and Mark stick together, which leaves Y/N and Jaehyun." The latter looked quite annoyed with this, but surprisingly said nothing.        

       "We'll go West," Taeyong directed, "Mark, you guys go North, and Y/N and Jaehyun go East. Everyone move to the right and we'll eventually all meet back at the van. Keep your radios on Channel 7, if you need help or you find Taeil, call everyone. Sound good?" Again, everyone agreed. As much as Taeyong hated to admit it, he was fairly skilled at directing and motivating his teammates. He had even made it so that Jaehyun wasn't complaining. Speaking of...

       As they split off, Y/N watched him. Despite the eerie noises, they hadn't encountered any zombies as of yet, so they were just walking in silence. His strides were longer than hers, so she occasionally had to do a little sprint just to keep up. He obviously wasn't concerned with Ty's 'stick together' rule.

       "You're awfully quiet." She noted, trying to spark up a conversation.

       "That's just how I am." Laughing, she argued,

       "No it isn't. Shouldn't you be chewing me out for something?"

       "Fine, stop being fucking annoying and talking to me." Unsure whether to take it seriously or as a joke, she continued pestering him.

       "What's wrong? You seem more angsty than usual." No response. "Is it the weather? Or you're astrology? What's your sign? Are you an Aquarius? I bet you're an Aquarius."      

       "Oh my God, just shut up." He demanded. Going silent, Y/N just watched as he pressed a hand to his nose. "You really want to know? Fine. You fucking broke Mark and I don't fucking like it." This surprised her.

       "Broke Mark? What did I do?"

       "I don't know! I haven't talked to either of you! All I know is that he's not acting normal, and he's evidently mad at you. Therefore, I can only assume that you did something to him. Conclusion: you broke Mark." Huffing, she crossed her arms.

       "I didn't do shit. He caught feelings for me and he's mad that Taeil made a move first." At this, all the anger dropped out of his face, changing to wide-eyes confusion and shock.

       "Wait- Mark caught- and Taeil, he-"

       "Yeah, basically."

       "So that's why Taeil insisted on going off by himself."

       "I... guess so?" Y/N didn't really know any of them well enough to jump to that conclusion.

       "He's not gonna be in the city. I'll bet you he's wandering around in the desert trying to get his head on straight. We need to go find him before he gets eaten by an armadillo or something." Reaching for his walkie-talkie, Jaehyun looked to make sure he was on Channel 4. Before he could press the button, though, Y/N grabbed it out of his hand.

       "Wait! You can't tell them!"

       "Why not? We need to find Taeil."

       "Yeah, but... If you tell them he's not here, they're gonna ask how you know. I'm sure he's fine, can't we just sweep the city first? We need materials anyway, right?" jaehyun looked suspiciously at her, trying to sense any ulterior motives. Her fake smile was a dead giveaway, but he couldn't think of any reason to argue. They did need gasoline, soap, and food, among other things.

       "I suppose... I just didn't expect this from Mark."

       "What's that supposed to mean?" As she asked this, Jaehyun grabbed her forearm and yanked her to the side, stretching her muscles painfully. Stepping to walk behind her, he sliced the head off a zombie that had walked up behind her.

       "Close call, thanks." She muttered. Recomposing himself, he pointed in the general direction that the thing came from, indicating the oncoming horde.

       "More where that came from, ready up." It didn't take long for them to finish off the group, mostly due to Jaehyun's fighting skill. Y/N could adequately take out the creatures now, but she was nothing compared to his grace and accuracy. Now that she wasn't consistently fearing for her life in these fights, though, she could finally watch him work.

       Unlike Haechan, who seemed to enjoy the maulings, and Mark, who needed a vent for his anger, jaehyun looked completely calm when fighting. Occasionally his face would twitch or his eyes would close as a reaction to a movement, but for the most part he looked like a statue. Every move seemed to come from muscle memory, taking out rows of perpetrators like he was just grinding for drops in a video game. As he took the last one out, he breathed out, shaking blood off his hand. Glancing to Y/N, he exhaled.

       "What are you looking at?" She shook her head.

       "Nothing. We should keep going." At that moment, though, their coms flared to life. Through the static, simultaneously, Jungwoo's voice rang through.

       "Hey, uh, we could use some help over here. Got a big horde coming and not sure we can handle it."

       "Where are you?" Taeyong.

       "We're about five blocks past the tall blue building with the bent service needle." Looking up, both Y/N and Jaehyun locked onto the same building.

       "We're close, we'll come cover you." Jaehyun spoke into the machine, pointing in the direction they were going to walk.

       "Alright, hurry over."

       "We'll stay on track." Taeyong's voice spoke through the static again. "Let us know if you need us too." They jogged over to the area, and sure enough, there was a small crowd of zombies all headed in the same direction. It looked as if they were coming up on the back of the herd, so their best option would be to fight through to the others by taking out the rear. If they had any further issues, they would call.

       It all ran surprisingly smoothly, and after a few minutes, Y/N saw Mark and Jungwoo through the mess. There were only about thirty or so left by that point, so she relaxed and continued observing the others. Jungwoo seemed very hesitant to kill anything, but would shoot if they got too close. She couldn't even tell if he was carrying a knife.

       Soon, the herd was narrowed to twenty, and then ten. It was only at this point that she noticed something was wrong. Very wrong. Jungwoo was now completely frozen, staring into the crowd. She was still stuck looking at their backs, so she couldn't see what was so horrifying. They had seen the grossest stuff: faceless zombies, ones that ate other zombies, teeth rotting, eyeballs missing, the works. So what was wrong?

       Not long after, Mark froze as well. They were both staring at the same zombie. It looked fairly generic. Adult male, purple skin, groaning along with the rest of them. If anything, he was in good condition for a diseased. She wanted to simply watch, but couldn't help but jump in as it started to make its way towards the boys.

       "Mark! Jungwoo! Watch out!" She pulled up her machete, ready to lop the thing's head off, when one of them screamed.

       "No! Wait! Stop!" It was Jungwoo. In synchronization to the cry, Mark leaped forward to catch her hand, practically tackling her to keep her from stabbing the threat.

       "What the fuck is wrong with you! That zombie is about to kill you!" At this, Jungwoo ran over, face still covered in shock. With both of its targets moving, the creature turned around to follow its victims. Now Jaehyun was captured in its curse as well, lip shaking in some unknown emotion. Turning to look, she saw its face. It looked vaguely familiar... Not someone she knew, but a picture or a reference, maybe? That was when Jaehyun said it.

       "...WinWin?"

Go to Chapter 17

[noellcfms]

chicago’s very own noelle washington has been spotted on madison avenue driving a mclaren 720s , welcome ! your resemblance to normani kordei is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash  . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re deceitful, but being benevolent might help you . i think being a gemini explains that .  3 things that would paint  a better picture of you would be sunset picnics , fruit smoothies , and the smell of vanilla . ( cis female + she/her ) +  (  elle , 20 , she/her , cst )

my name is elle! i was here like a month ago then i left to vibe and clear my brain but i’m back and better than ever! this is my absolute BABIE noelle, most of you will remember her, and those who don’t i am so sorry this fake bitch has to enter your life, enough about me let’s talk about noelle!

* --- biography

noelle washington was born into an extremely strict Christian family, the middle child of three children. her family did everything by the bible. her dad was an extremely famous tv preacher, and her mom was a lawyer turned preacher’s wife. perfect family dynamic, no gimmicks, just wholesome family love.

her and her siblings went to church everyday, noelle grew up believing the things that her family told her.

family was very fervent in their beliefs and noelle kinda just had to stick behind them because they were family? ya know?

noelle grew up with her housewife mother! who was constantly cooking and cleaning and taking care of household tasks, so noelle followed in her footsteps

she developed a love for cooking and baking, and it became a passion to her. her parents were proud! they raised such a positive child

but she wanted more, she had bigger aspirations than being good at cooking for somebody else one day

middle child vibes are your parents forgetting that you even go to gymnastics in the first place, but that’s what she did! and she was great!

but her parents wanted her to focus on the cooking thing so she did, went on chopped junior and she won!!!! would later go on to win an actual episode of chopped but that’s different tea

ANYWAYS from that her family was offered a reality tv show because wow what wholesome family activities! and their children are so talented!! wait noelle who again? yeah she was...ignored per usual love that for her

she continued to practice gymnastics and she was heckin good at it i’m proud of my bb, she went on to by the youngest female to win three gold medals a talented queen i know

her family finally wanted to put her on their show because she was bringing in views everyone wanted to know how she was so well behaved and obedient and performed on the level that she did

she was a really good student! was valedictorian, student council president, and a bunch of other extracurriculars that would make her family proud of her

honestly she was jus tryna get into a good college ngl...as far away from her family as she could get

BUT THE WORLD DEMANDED NOELLE and so her family delivered for her, finally she graduated and phew she couldn’t wait to get as far away as possible from them

she ended up going to Stanford for...law....and although her family could pay her way and she was offered a full ride...she didn’t want to have to depend on her family for anything SIS DIDN’T EVEN WANT TO CALL HOME

she went to Stanford and worked a normal job...and everyone was so shocked! to see Noelle Washington working a normal job and being you know a fucking human but despite the gawking she continued to do so

she graduated college with her law degree and as valedictorian so she was like cool i appeased my parents time to move back...and she moved back!

she was like ‘guys i don’t wanna be a lawyer i wanna...open a bakery’ and so she did

you can catch her there literally anytime in the morning because she might own the place but she also you know works there because it’s hers....fun times!

she’s just began releasing her music! and her vc is normani

but this america’s sweetheart bitch has a secret

everything i told you was the truth! but i mean one version of the truth here’s the side of noelle nobody gets to see

* --- second biography?

noelle’s family seemed perfect one the outside but her father was a serial cheater, and her mother was a borderline alcoholic

they didn’t love her or her siblings so they often all fell to the wayside unless it was maintaining appearances in public, then it was all smiles, and how they lived by the word, a bunch of bs

noelle stopped believing in what her family force fed her early on...but she kept that shit to herself

the cooking and cleaning and literally every other responsibility fell upon noelle and her siblings, she sorta despised her parents, but still craved their validation, it was a really messed up cycle

all of her achievements are true tho! she got valedictorian, student council president, youngest person to win three gold medals, etc etc

her family really did get their own reality tv show, and put on extreme appearances for the cameras...and noelle was pushed to the wayside because middle child vibes again

she did go to Stanford for law...but let’s get into the main portion of her double life

she didn’t work a normal job! she wasn’t a waitress or a cook or even a dishwasher nope she did none of that shit

she became a stripper! but she couldn’t show everyone her face obviously...so she developed a plan!

she would go on stage in a really extravagant masquerade mask...like to the point where nothing was recognizable but her eyes

and that shit worked! she was a hit! an icon! people loved her...she made mad bank

well one day an agent approached her and was like...do you want to do porn? and this extra ass bitch said more money? hell yeah

the one condition she did have was obviously she kept the mask, but she could change it during scenes, like different colors and shit love that for her

it was amazing that this bitch managed to graduate with all the hours that she was pulling...lowkey would be proud when annoying frat boys that called her a ‘prude’ would talk about how much they wanted to fuck her

ANYWAYS she took her work with her when she moved back to new york mostly her work in the adult entertainment industry...but she continues to do porn and that’s where a big majority of her money comes from

that’s her secret lmaoooo she hasn’t told her family or even her friends because you know appearances

so when she’s not at the bakery during the day she’s usually filming a scene...and when she’s not around at night she’s stripping

* --- personality

PUBLIC LIFE

extremely sweet

literally doesn’t have a mean bone in her body...but not nice to the point where anyone’s suspicious...just nice enough to teeter that line a little bit

fun loving young girl, or at least she tries to be, she tends to let her emotions get the best of her tbh, but despite that she’s gentle and kind and would never hurt a fly if she could help it

she always gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, believing the best in everyone and always looking for the good, you could tell her a million and one bad things about someone and she’d still only care about the one positive aspect

noelle has the biggest heart, and often thinks she’s mislabeled as naive, although in reality she truly is and is often easily lead on

not gonna lie, noelle apologizes for just about everything, even if it isn’t her fault, bam there’s another apology coming out of her mouth

she’s sorta of the mom friend in a way? like she can barely take care of herself, but she literally tries to take care of every single person there is to ever exist

is resilient and to this day there isn’t a problem that she hasn’t overcome, even if she did have a little help from alcoholic beverages

lowkey a hopeless romantic??? like she’s the kind of girl who falls in love with strangers, or sees people in coffee shops and then envisions their wedding, she’s hopeless

SECRET LIFE

extremely outspoken

will fight for what she wants deadass she’ll punch you don’t play with her she doesn’t take shit from anybody

extremely comfortable with herself and her body and just embraces who she is i love that for her

she talks mad shit ngl but she’ll back that up with a punch dw

judgmental but like lowkey not about your looks or clothes or anything but she will talk about how you act and carry yourself since that’s important to her

ngl lowkey has this whole ass superiority complex

hella sociable, she loves meeting new people

sexual!1!1!1!

if you can’t tell she do be having anger issues

* --- wanted connections

don’t feel limited by this list, italics means i’m open to more than one

best friend / ride or die

roommates

basically her son

bad influences around each other

pr romance

little brother

step siblings / ex step siblings

pals

childhood & high school friends

awkward situation

frenemies

bad terms

FIRST LOVE THAT ABSOLUTELY DESTROYED HER

big heartbreak ex-fiance OR alternatively an annulled vegas marriage

will they ? have they ?

exes, on bad terms

exes, on good terms

skinny love

high school sweetheart

friends with benefits

one night stand

industry friends

* --- second biography?

noelle’s family seemed perfect one the outside but her father was a serial cheater, and her mother was a borderline alcoholic

they didn’t love her or her siblings so they often all fell to the wayside unless it was maintaining appearances in public, then it was all smiles, and how they lived by the word, a bunch of bs

noelle stopped believing in what her family force fed her early on...but she kept that shit to herself

the cooking and cleaning and literally every other responsibility fell upon noelle and her siblings, she sorta despised her parents, but still craved their validation, it was a really messed up cycle

all of her achievements are true tho! she got valedictorian, student council president, youngest person to win three gold medals, etc etc

her family really did get their own reality tv show, and put on extreme appearances for the cameras...and noelle was pushed to the wayside because middle child vibes again

she did go to Stanford for law...but let’s get into the main portion of her double life

she didn’t work a normal job! she wasn’t a waitress or a cook or even a dishwasher nope she did none of that shit

she became a stripper! but she couldn’t show everyone her face obviously...so she developed a plan!

she would go on stage in a really extravagant masquerade mask...like to the point where nothing was recognizable but her eyes

and that shit worked! she was a hit! an icon! people loved her...she made mad bank

well one day an agent approached her and was like...do you want to do porn? and this extra ass bitch said more money? hell yeah

the one condition she did have was obviously she kept the mask, but she could change it during scenes, like different colors and shit love that for her

it was amazing that this bitch managed to graduate with all the hours that she was pulling...lowkey would be proud when annoying frat boys that called her a ‘prude’ would talk about how much they wanted to fuck her

ANYWAYS she took her work with her when she moved back to new york mostly her work in the adult entertainment industry...but she continues to strip and that’s where a big majority of her money comes from

that’s her secret lmaoooo she hasn’t told her family or even her friends because you know appearances

so when she’s not at the bakery during the day she’s usually filming a scene...and when she’s not around at night she’s stripping

* --- personality

PUBLIC LIFE

extremely sweet

literally doesn’t have a mean bone in her body...but not nice to the point where anyone’s suspicious...just nice enough to teeter that line a little bit

fun loving young girl, or at least she tries to be, she tends to let her emotions get the best of her tbh, but despite that she’s gentle and kind and would never hurt a fly if she could help it

she always gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, believing the best in everyone and always looking for the good, you could tell her a million and one bad things about someone and she’d still only care about the one positive aspect

noelle has the biggest heart, and often thinks she’s mislabeled as naive, although in reality she truly is and is often easily lead on

not gonna lie, noelle apologizes for just about everything, even if it isn’t her fault, bam there’s another apology coming out of her mouth

she’s sorta of the mom friend in a way? like she can barely take care of herself, but she literally tries to take care of every single person there is to ever exist

is resilient and to this day there isn’t a problem that she hasn’t overcome, even if she did have a little help from alcoholic beverages

lowkey a hopeless romantic??? like she’s the kind of girl who falls in love with strangers, or sees people in coffee shops and then envisions their wedding, she’s hopeless

SECRET LIFE

extremely outspoken

will fight for what she wants deadass she’ll punch you don’t play with her she doesn’t take shit from anybody

extremely comfortable with herself and her body and just embraces who she is i love that for her

she talks mad shit ngl but she’ll back that up with a punch dw

judgmental but like lowkey not about your looks or clothes or anything but she will talk about how you act and carry yourself since that’s important to her

ngl lowkey has this whole ass superiority complex

hella sociable, she loves meeting new people

sexual!1!1!1!

if you can’t tell she do be having anger issues

* --- headcanons

...i’m gonna update this as soon as possible but i wanna plot already soooooooo

* --- wanted connections

don’t feel limited by this list, italics means i’m open to more than one

best friend / ride or die

roommates

basically her son

bad influences around each other

pr romance

little brother

step siblings / ex step siblings

pals

childhood & high school friends

awkward situation

frenemies

bad terms

FIRST LOVE THAT ABSOLUTELY DESTROYED HER

big heartbreak ex-fiance OR alternatively an annulled vegas marriage

will they ? have they ?

exes, on bad terms

exes, on good terms

skinny love

high school sweetheart

friends with benefits

one night stand

industry friends

[hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon]

Okay Tumblr, I’m about to do a stupid thing and ask for validation on some of my original writing. I’ve been working on a novel for a while now, and while I don’t have nearly as much to show for it as I would like, I do have this prologue. 

The story it is is attached to is long and complicated and queer and magical and I love it. My question to you fine internet denizens is: after reading this prologue, would you keep reading this book? 

(If you have follow up questions about this story at all, please ask because I love blabbing about this and I’m considering making a side blog just about this story because I want to develop it and hopefully get it published one day)

My buds: @a-l-ias @madre-des-leones @books-andbiscuits @chihuahuapowersgo @oopstheregoesthatlifeofmine @ivneess @elissastillstands @i-am-triple-a @becca-becky @goddess-of-fluff (You are all under absolutely no obligation to read this, I just think you’ll get a kick out of it)

So, without any further ado, I give you the prologue to Cheshire Moon:

Prologue: In Which It’s The End of the World As We Know It

Here is the boy on his bicycle. It is a dark and stormy night, a strange night for a bike ride. A Monday night as it would happen. Just goes to show that even after the events collectively referred to as “the Apocalypse” have ravaged the Earth and destroyed the capitalist institutions such as bureaucratic schools and offices that made certain weekdays widely hated, Mondays are still, and will always be, awful.

So here is the boy on a bicycle twenty years after the Apocalypse. He is pedaling madly through woods that had once been somewhat tamed. The woods were made of pine and maple and oak, the staples of a Northeast American forest, but they were also more than that. See, when nature is left to its own devices, even forests once populated with such things as marked hiking trails and outdoor recreation areas can turn into something quite different. This forest, once a nature preserve belonging to the state of New York, was now a wildwood. Things not quite friendly and not quite mundane and things not evil but also certainly not kind to trespassers lived in the dark spaces between these trees.

So here is the boy on a bicycle, riding through a wildwood full of dangerous things not kind to humans on a stormy Monday night twenty years after the Apocalypse. This is odd for three reasons.

First, as previously mentioned, it was a rainy night. And not a little drizzle, May-Day morning kind of rain that you barely needed an umbrella for, but a sky-splitting, earth-shaking, world-flooding howler of a storm. Each bolt of lightning ripped the sky apart; every roll of thunder shook the ground; the howling wind threatened to send even the oldest trees crashing to the ground. Surrounded by all of this, beneath the trees and in the mud, was the boy on his bicycle. 

The bicycle was the second odd thing. Despite the absolute hell it’s rider was currently putting it through (he wasn’t biking on a path, you see, just careening through the underbrush as it suited him; scratching the paint, splattering it with mud, and getting half a forest worth of sticks stuck in the wheel spokes), it was a very nice bike. A ten-speed, all-terrain, for-serious-athletes-only sort of bicycle. In another life, it would have been the property of some over-achieving businesswoman, the sort who did triathlons on the weekends and polished it with special bicycle wax three times a week. In this lifetime it had been stolen from an abandoned sporting goods store and aggressively spray-painted black because its new owner had been in a mood that day. There was also a laptop precariously duct-taped to the handlebars. Surrounding the ancient laptop was a clear plastic container, which several hours earlier had been looted from an old Target store and taped over the handlebars with extreme prejudice to protect the computer from the coming rain. 

The third odd thing was what the rider of this bike was doing. He wasn’t just soaked to the bone while pedaling full speed through the dark and rain and underbrush, with no light to guide him other than the faint glow of the computer screen. He was also singing at the top of his lungs.

“It’s the end of the world as we know it! It’s the end of the world as we know!-oh!-” He swerves to avoid a tree- “Oh, it! It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I FEEEEEEL FINEEEE!” He had a deranged smile on his face, the kind adrenaline junkies get when they’re doing something supremely idiotic while enjoying themselves immensely, and couldn't be damned to care about the consequences. He was quite possibly insane, more likely sleep-deprived.

Just then, the computer started beeping. The boy quickly brought the bike to a stop, crashing through a puddle and narrowly missing a large rock that would have brought this story to an end much quicker. Still singing nonsensical lyrics to himself- “Lenny Bruce, Lester Bangs, birthday party, cheesecake”- he dismounted, taking something small and electrical out of the bag he wore over his shoulder.  He hit the device a few times, cursed twice, and hit it again before it finally turned on with a beep and a few flashing lights. The light illuminated his face, pale and tired and shivering. Splashes of mud on his face gave the appearance of more freckles than he actually had. He wiped his long, rain-drenched hair out of his eyes to peer at the computer screen before punching some coordinates into the handheld device. A map appeared on the smaller screen. Blue vector lines appear, joined by two small dots, one green, one red. As he moved, the red dot moved. “Excellent,” he whispered to himself before walking deeper into the woods, leaving his bike behind. It would be the last time he saw that bike.

Walking through the rain was much harder than biking through it. Every minute or so, he had to stop and pull his boots out of the shin-deep mud. Twice he slipped, spreading mud all over his front. He refused to think about the state of his hair, despite the fact that it smelled like some of the wet matter coating it might not be mud. He slipped a third time, and the device in his hand went flying off into the wet night, never to be seen again. He paused for a moment, staring pitifully at where his device had disappeared before proceeding to curse loudly and creatively in at least three languages; insulting not only the stupid forest and the gods-damned rain, but his own stupidity and the idiocy of his informant for failing to tell him about this job before it became a time-sensitive matter that resulted in him being covered in enough mud to pass as a very short golem……

He went on like that for awhile before continuing his walk. The past few days had been incredibly frustrating, and there was a lot of bottled up anger to be released. As absolutely no one listened, he cursed the Trader caravan who treated him worse than the dirt on their boots, the scavengers who’d stolen his good knife last week, and the state of his life in general, gods give him a sign that he shouldn’t end it all right now, just climb up a tree and get struck by lightning…

A particularly loud crack of thunder erupted just then, followed by a bright burst of lightning that was a bit too close for comfort. It seemed like the gods were calling him on his bluff. With a world-weary sigh, he shoved his frustrations back down and continued walking into the woods. First and foremost was the mission, he reminded himself. There would be time for pity parties later.

It seemed like the universe was mocking him at that moment; as he gathered his convictions, the storm worsened. He would have said it was impossible, but the rain came down harder, as if trying to tell him that just lying down in the mud forever was so much simpler than trying to be a hero, who was he anyway, to try and save the world…He began to sing again, attempting to combat the darkness of the weather and his mind. “Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn, world serves its own needs, don’t miserve your own needs…” He walks to the tune of the highly appropriate song, keeping his head up and eyes peeled for his destination.Finding anything in this weather would take nothing short of divine intervention, possibly by multiple gods, but find something he does. There, on his right, almost outside his field of vision, a faint glow in the darkness of the night. He smiled, a wild thing, before running full tilt towards the glow. 

As he got closer, it became clear that the glow was coming from the ground itself, a golden line stretching as far as the eye can see in either direction. The glow is slowly intensifying, but he’s arrived in time. He takes another device out of his bag, this one about the size of his head. It looked like if someone had melted down several computers, a tacky bachelor’s pad worth of chrome plating, and a rotary phone before mashing them all together and drenching the entire thing in white paint. That really wasn’t far off from the actual process used to create the gadget, which was of his own invention. He was rather proud of it, especially as it was one of a select few of his projects that had been completed without any magical assistance whatsoever.

With the golden glow lighting his way, he steps forward and gently places the SaviorBlob(that was what he had named the blobby thing) directly onto the line, aligning one of the sticky-outy metal bits towards magnetic north. Then he takes a carefully measured number of steps to the right, taking a second SaviorBlob out of his bag and placing it on the line. Again, he takes a carefully measured number of steps to the right, watching his feet while taking a third and final SaviorBlob out of his bag. He’s adjusting the magnetic alignment when he hears a loud grunt. He looks up. Then he starts running. 

A roar erupts from the massive creature straddling the line. Something vaguely resembling the idea of an arm erupts from the darkness, grabbing the boy by the back of his jacket and bringing him face to face with the rotting corpse of something that had never been properly alive. Desperate, he throws the remaining SaviorBlob at the creature’s face with surprising force, but it bounces off harmlessly. The creature roars again, throwing the boy up in the air only to snatch him up again, this time around the waist. With another arm, it sweeps the SaviorBlobs off the line, sending them flying into the night. 

Satisfied, it returns its attention to the boy trying to free himself, slowly pulling him closer as it opens it’s stinking maw wide. The boy watches, eyes wide, heart pounding. He waits. He waits. Then he strikes. A second before the darkness would swallow him whole, he pulls a knife from his boot and drives it deep into a mass of twisted flesh. 

As the creature flails, he rips off one of his many necklaces and shoves it down the creatures throat, kicking away at the same time and falling to the ground. His jacket is torn to pieces, tangling around the arm covered in dark acid from the creature’s mouth. 

The creature roars and lashes out, clawing at it’s wound with one arm and pinning the boy by his leg with another. The touch is dirty and so cold it burns, the antithesis of everything alive. The boy screams for the first time. Another twisted and corrupted limb is pressed to the glowing line, and the creature rears its head and sings, a single high piercing note a human could never hope to replicate. 

The boy struggles, trying to pull away from the pain, but he’s stuck fast. As the creature continues to sing, the light of the line grows brighter, turning from golden to white hot. The air itself is resonating with the impossibly high note, the whole world shaking as the boy tries to twist free and cover his ears from the onslaught of pure noise. With a final cry of pain, he escapes the creature’s hold, trying to run, trying to get as far away as possible...BOOM. The world goes white. He flies through the air, hitting a tree with a CRACK. Darkness falls immediately.

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

I WILL TAKE ANY AND ALL CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM

I WANT TO MAKE THIS GOOD 

I WILL ALSO BLAB ABOUT THE CHARACTERS SO MUCH, SPOILER THEY”RE ALL QUEER AND MOST ARE POC. 

[aesthetic-survivor-of-twd]

You've mentioned you like Nick a lot. What are your thoughts on his character? Also, how would you change the shitty treatment he got after ep 2?

Nick to me, was a very important character because he represented what a character like Ben could have been if he was provided the time to own up to his faults and then worked towards improving and growing as a person (Ben admitted to his faults and accepted his determinant death, but didn’t get a chance to properly make up for them).

I grew to like Nick really early on because he was a very flawed but real character with raw emotion. I often feel like a lot of the characters in Twdg, though realistic - kind of have a bit of exaggeration to them that makes them stand out as very much “comic book characters”. Nick however, felt very much human.

-

In episode 1 when we first meet him, he nearly kills us and gets told off by his uncle. Now this is the part where you are supposed to think he is a total jackass and in most games this would be the “asshole character” constantly trying to undermine and screw with the main character.

But he isn’t. Later on he apologises to us then explains his (pretty valid) reasoning of why he is trigger happy. Does that mean he is justified in all that he does? No. But it does provide context and gives us insight into him as a person - being that he is actually a pretty kind and loyal person that doesn’t think before he acts and lets his emotions get the better of him.

We also see more of this when we go with him and Pete to the lake, where we also learn that Nick’s only male parental figure in his life is Pete - someone he respects but we also learn tends to feel pressure from and underestimated constantly which leads to him having a bit of an inferiority complex and need to prove himself to people (which in turn, leads to his screw ups because he doesn��t think and acts on those impulses).

All in all, episode 1 sets us up with a really solid concept for a character and one that promises a lot of growth. And it’s this build up that makes his ultimate fate in episode 4 leave a bitter taste in my mouth. 

-

Episode 2 is very much Nick’s episode. Yes, even when Kenny showed up and took the spotlight at the beginning that episode was very much an entire development arc for Nick, so much so that in 2 episodes he became the most developed character in that entire season.

That scene in season 2 with him in the shack with Clem is one of my favourite moments in the entire series. So much emotion and deep dialogue came from that one scene and it was that exact moment that established to me just how amazing this season could have been, because that entire conversation is the embodiment of makes “The Walking Dead” special. Not the walkers or constant drama, but just two people sitting together and forming a bond despite the shitty situation they are in.

And Nick’s character only got better from there. He willingly puts himself at risk so Clem can run away (amusingly the opposite of Ben) and even thanks her for not giving up on him. It’s kind of interesting in a way, because a lot of people view Luke as the close companion or older brother figure of Clem, but you could honestly make the argument that Nick also fits that role given how much the two of them can bond in the season.

He has a lot of moments that make him flawed (killing the dude on the bridge, nearly shooting us, his anger, letting an 11 year old drink, ect) but is also written in away that stops him from being dislikable (owns up to his mistakes, is honest, caring, quite brave actually).

The thing that really made him stand out from Ben as character though is when he kills Matthew (I hope I got the name right) and actually WANTS to tell the truth and it’s Luke who doesn’t want him to. Nick takes responsibility over his actions and tries to make it right.

And I ADORE how that entire outcome played out with Walter and the fact that we can decide whether or not we actually view him as a good guy or not and our answer determines whether Walter sees him worth living.

Which is also the sad point because this is when his entire character takes a nose dive because Nick Breckon only wrote the first 2 episodes and the writers began changing each episode (and so did the character development). Which isn’t a bad thing per say since it happened with TFS. But I do think there was way less communication for this season than there is for TFS among the team.

-

In episode 3 Nick gets shoved to the side along with the rest of the cabin group in favour of Kenny, quite literally getting benched as he sleeps most of the episode. The only noteworthy thing being his sweet moment with Clem where he clearly sees her as part of their group and his moment of faith in Luke and the last we see of him is helping Luke chase down Sarah.

And then in Episode 4 he dies off screen...

And there lies one of the biggest problems with Season 2.

They build up so much character development with these characters and the start of arcs but never truly follow through with them to the end.

And I understand that not everyone gets a chance to improve as a person or get their “big moment” I get that, I do. It’s just not realistic. Some people die having never improved as a being or doing what they want to do, that’s the tragedy of life.

But from the context of the narrative that Season 2 set up - it makes NO sense.

Now, I didn’t expect Nick to become some insane walker killing machine and the MVP of survivors in the apocalypse - hell, he didn’t even HAVE to survive the season.

But he definitely should NOT have died the way he did in episode 4, and that’s the hill on which i’ll forever die on.

I don’t know how I would have handled Nick’s fate personally, but I do think he shouldn’t have died until episode 5 and that his death should have meant something. 

Looking back on the season as someone who hasn’t played it in years, I think what I would have done was keep the Luke vs Kenny rivalry that was the original narrative and then maybe had Nick die similar to Luke (maybe protecting him - or Clem if you were loyal to him). Give him a death that’s fitting of someone trying to prove himself to people, who genuinely wants to protect his friends and let him do something for once that actually benefits the group instead of fucking up and putting them in danger, even if that still ends in his death.

Because it’s a hell of a lot more poetic and fitting than sticking his character model on a fence and being like “yeah he ran to get help, but I guess he got bit lol” especially when the other characters barely acknowledge it and it just ends up rubbing salt in the wound.

Because when you do lazy shit like that, you are then just conforming to the idea of which this Season proposes (in episode 4) that characters who aren’t “strong” or hardened survivors can’t survive or will die being the pathetic idiots that others view them as.

It happened to Nick and it also happened to Sarah (though Nick suffered the worst I think).

My biggest gripe with this season is honestly the lack of empathy and interest it has in it’s own characters. The season started off so hopeful and like it had passion behind it, only to then decline into...whatever that was.

And I know that there are issues that go on with the company, and I’m sure there were things beyond the writer’s control (such a time constraints, ect) which made it hard for them to give it 100%. I know.

But knowing how much potential Season 2 had if it were handled a little better will forever continue to annoy me a little bit.

[vannahfanfics]

Now and Forever

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Characters: Erza Scarlet, Jellal Fernandes

Requested By: Anonymous User

“Is everyone in position?”

Erza raised a hand to the small, barely detectable communication device hooked into her ear as Gray’s voice buzzed in. There came a chorus of affirmative quips from Lucy, Natsu, and Wendy followed by Happy’s characteristic, optimistic “Aye!” before Erza pressed the button on her own earpiece to validate her own position. The team’s latest assignment involved staking out a very popular pub where a certain dark wizard was known to frequent. They had been told that he would likely appear tonight to deal in the smuggling of illegal magical artifacts, and so they had assembled to stop the operation short. Her guild members were stationed in various locations throughout the small building, covering all entrances and exits, but Erza’s location was the most important... on stage, right in the center of the bar, posing as a singer.

Currently she was eclipsed by the stage curtains, but it was only a minute or so before they would be drawn up and she would be revealed to the small crowd. Erza had managed to get over her stage fright after years of forcing her way into jobs such as this, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still unnerving for her to perform in front of a crowd. She inhaled, then exhaled deeply. All you have to do is sing and look out for the man in the wanted ad. Eyes closed as she steeled herself, she did not notice that she had been approached until they coughed politely.

“Yes?” she responded automatically as her eyes opened to settle on an intimidated-looking stage hand.

“We’re about to go live, Miss Scarlet, and the um, owner was wondering if you intend to, ah, perform like that?” he stammered quietly. Erza’s eyebrows shot up as she realized she was still dressed in her usual armor.

“No. Of course not.” Ribbons of light flashed around her before enveloping her form, hugging her tightly as her armor phased out of existence. The shimmering light protected her modesty as she pulled her new garments from her magical storage universe. By the time that the shocked stage hand lowered his hand at the dimming of the light, Erza’s voluptuous body was now clothed in a skin-tight leotard, mesh stockings and black stilettos, and a pair of bunny ears sticking out of her scarlet hair. A blush painted his cheeks and he murmured his approval before he scampered out, likely to nurse his bleeding nose. Erza chuckled and walked over to the piano, hips swaying with each step, to take her place by the gawking pianist. She leaned over the large instrument and flashed him a wink, making him shut his mouth and find new interest in his music sheets. Suddenly, she heard the whooshing of the red curtains being pulled away from the stage, and she tossed a glance over her shoulder.

The bar was dim, only lit by a ring of circular white lights lining the rim of Erza’s performance area. Her trained eyes spotted her cohorts instantly, mingled among the crowd and constantly shifting their gazes to watch the patrons. There was no sign of their target yet, at least not that Erza could see. The chatter faded as soon as the gorgeous wizard appeared, the bar falling into silence as it awaited her singing voice. The quiet was soon replaced by the heavy, dramatic tune spilling from the piano man’s expert fingers. Erza inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and then began to sing.

At one point in her life, her voice would shake and hitch, and she would’ve been chased of stage in a matter of seconds. However, after careful practice (and a fair bit of encouragement from the ever-supportive Lucy), Erza had conquered her fears and come into her own, performance-wise. Her voice flowed like honey, dripping with emotion as she sang in time with the piano notes of longing and lost love. The bar owner had told her that her intense, dominating looks and personality was perfect for such a performance. After the first verse, Erza opened her eyes and began strutting across the edge of the stage, pausing to lean over in such a way to accentuate her pleasing features and stroke the face of the man nearest the stage. He swooned and nearly passed out into his friends. Erza gave the rest of the crowd a cocky smirk before standing back up and finishing her circuit of the stage, hips swaying and voice thundering in passion.

She came back to the piano and laid herself across the back of it, kicking up her legs with her scarlet hair spilling over her back. In that moment, the lyrics abruptly made her think of Jellal. It took all she could to focus on the task at hand and not lose herself in the thoughts of him. Why did I think of him singing some stupid love song? She knew why. She had loved him a long time, but had never worked up the courage to tell him. Erza had a lot of courage for battle and protecting her friends, but it always failed when it came to being honest with him. Her voice took on a more somber tone as her subconscious delved further into the depressing thoughts. As her eyes flickered up to meet the crowd, she could almost see him standing there, watching her with a knowing smile ghosting his lips.

Wait a minute.

She blinked, and the phantasm did not vanish. She managed to keep herself singing, but only just barely, while she frantically looked around the rest of the bar. Sure enough, the other members of Crime Sorcieré were strategically positioned throughout the establishment. No way! Is Jellal here to catch the smuggler as well? She thought as her heart nearly jumped into her throat and choked out her melodious tune. Trying not to panic and act natural lest she scare off their target, Erza pushed herself upward on the piano, but her arms were shaking slightly. She could feel the nervousness bubbling up inside her; something about Jellal watching her perform was lapsing her back into her stage-fright. Thankfully, the song abruptly ended and the curtain drew shut with Erza’s echoing voice singing the last word. As soon as it shut completely, she ceased and collapsed back onto the piano, wheezing and holding her chest in an attempt to still her pounding heart. She could still feel Jellal’s dark eyes on her, watching with rapture.

What the hell is going on here?!

~~~~~~~~~~

“Dammit!” There was a thunderous crash as Natsu took out his anger on a nearby trash bin, kicking over the metal container to spill its contents out into the street. He then squatted down while muttering under his breath to retrieve the trash because Lucy scolded him something fierce. He had a right to be annoyed; apparently the culprit had caught wind that his operation had been compromised, and had been a no-show. Erza, now in her trusty armor, crossed her arms as she sighed deeply.

“This is rather unfortunate. Now we are back to square one in hunting him down,” she tutted with a click of her tongue. Jellal laughed lightly and rubbed the back of his neck with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, Erza. I hope our appearance here didn’t ruin your mission.” Gray and Natsu both slung their heads around at identical moments, mouths open to likely blame it all on Jellal, but a sharp glare from the red-haired warrior immediately made them swallow whatever ill remarks they were about to spew from him. Erza returned to Jellal with a soft smile.

“No, there’s no way to tell how he learned this bar was being watched, and by whom. We will just have to gather information on his next movements.” Jellal frowned and rubbed his chin, tilting his head to the side and looking up through the corners of his eyes as he pondered something. He then smirked and looked back at Erza.

“We’re also interested in bringing this guy down, so why don’t we team up?”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Erza had accepted Jellal’s proposal to form a joint effort to take down the smuggler, she had never imagined that things would end up the way they were. She was in the fanciest restaurant in the entire city, dressed in an elegant black dress with her scarlet hair fashioned in an elaborate up-do, sitting across from Jellal who was wearing just a simple tuxedo and that coy, smug smirk of his. By their joint information-gathering, they had learned that the smuggler would be conducting his failed business venture in a more lucrative environment; to avoid the same unfortunate outcome as last time, they had decided that only the two of them should be on scene with the others waiting outside for back-up.

But still… To pose as a couple on a date? Surely this is too much! Erza thought wildly. She felt like the room was spinning, and she had the sudden extreme urge to vomit. Her fingers dug into the silky fabric of her dress as she concentrated her gaze on her lap. She was utterly unable to look at him. It was just Jellal, but it was Jellal, and under this premise with all the implications… it was liable to drive her insane!

“Erza.” His voice somehow sounded like the touch of the smooth silk caressing her nervous fingers. As if called, she glanced up, and was immediately met with his smoldering gaze. “Relax. It’s just me, you know.” A haze of pink dusted her cheeks. He saw right through me… “Your performance was lovely, by the way. Because we were so busy gathering intel, I was never able to tell you.” The blush on her cheeks heightened to a shade of carnation. She nervously fidgeted in the chair, unsure how to handle the praise, and dropped her gaze, unable to handle the way he was looking at her... Like a precious object who had captured his attention.

“Y-yes, I’ve… Been practicing…” She mumbled. She was beginning to grow frustrated with herself. How could she be so confident on the battlefield of war, but such a stumbling fool on in the warzone of love? Though his unyielding stare unnerved her, she could not but help wish to be locked in it, and so her eyes slowly circled back to meet his. His expression had not changed despite Erza’s worming about; he just continued to sit there, chin resting on his interlocked hands, those dark eyes absorbing everything about her.

“I would love it if you would sing for me sometime… A private performance, if you will.” Erza choked on air at his very blatant and insinuating remark. Her cheeks were surely the shade of her hair now. Her mouth opened and closed, attempting to form words but dismally failing, only managed to produce sputtering gasps. Jellal’s smirk widened, and then he began to laugh heartily. “Relax, Erza, I’m only playing the part of the flirtatious date. There’s no need to take everything so seriously! I’m only teasing,” he grinned widely. Erza’s shoulders hunched up as she glowered at him.

“That teasing was in very bad taste!” she scolded him. Jellal continued to laugh. By the time he had finished, Erza was steaming enough to fry an egg on her head. “I hope you’re happy.”

“I am, because you feel more at ease, don’t you?” Erza’s mouth fell open. What a devious ploy! It had sure worked, too; Erza had more or less forgotten about their environment and operation, and was more relaxed, because now it just felt like she was just spending time with Jellal. That in itself was nerve-wracking in its own right, but she had managed to recover some sense of the defensive decorum that she maintained with him during their normal interactions. As he flashed her a devilish wink, she shook her head and decided to swallow her amusement and embarrassment with wine.

“As cunning as ever.”

“I always aim to please,” he smirked before glancing off to the side to scan the room. Erza did not need to do so herself; the way his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed told her well enough that he had locked onto their target. “He’s sitting four tables away, to your ten o’clock.” Casually sipping at the bitter wine in the crystal glass, Erza languidly turned in her chair as if she were relaxing herself, but cast a sordid gaze in the indicated direction. Sure enough, he was sitting across the room with a handful of well-to-do-looking gentlemen, the picture of decorum and propriety despite the fact that they were illegally dealing forbidden magical artifacts. “I recognize a few of them. Those are some of the most prolific magical artifact dealers in all of Fiore.”

“He must have something quite special in stock.”

“Let’s get a closer look.” Without waiting for her agreement, Jellal stood and ironed out the creases of his suit before holding out a hand for her. Erza knew it was important but was a little put-off, and the first thing that came to mind was that they hadn’t even eaten anything yet besides some small appetizer salads. You’re not here for the food, Erza; you’re here to catch a criminal! She scolded herself. It really wasn’t about the food so much as frantically trying to think up an excuse not to do what Jellal was asking because she was so unsure of what little scheme he was hatching in that handsome head of his. Still, she had to do it. She breathed in deeply before rising from the chair, the picture of beauty with her upturned chin and pin-straight back. Her hand slid smoothly into Jellal’s; a jolt of electricity rocketed up her arm as his fingers gently enclosed around it. As if that wasn’t enough, he flashed her that irritatingly sexy smirk and brought her hand to his mouth to press his lips against the top of her hand. It took all her willpower not to yank her arm away and maybe whack him upside the head for good measure.

“What are you doing?” she hissed under her breath at him.

“Playing the part. You attract far too much attention, Erza…” With a frantic glance around the room, Erza could easily find that he was right. Her regal, sensual aura had lassoed the attention of the room with frightening ease; men and women alike were looking at her with palpable jealousy, though for far different reasons. While the women in the restaurant were lamenting the fact that they couldn’t be her, their male partners were wistfully wishing they could bed her. Such a lecherous thought brought a blush to her cheeks, and, unable to take the implicative stares, she focused her attention on Jellal. Likely sensing her newfound unease, he tugged on her arm to pull her body flush to his, that unrelenting cocky smile painting her face with further hues of red. “Far too much attention. I’m going to have to show this room that you’re mine tonight.”

As if it were effortless, Jellal had pulled the infallible Erza into a whirlwind from which she could not escape.

Before she knew it, he had swept her to the dance floor, which was conveniently located right next to their target’s table. Not that Erza really noticed that; her mind had descended into a fog, with Jellal the only lighthouse that illuminated her misty reality. All she could do was stare like a helpless, trapped rabbit in the grasp of a cunning fox. Erza was painfully aware of his hand running down the bare skin of her arms, leaving goosebumps trailing from his touch, before it jumped to settle firmly on her hip. His other hand still held hers captive, holding it aloft. Her body automatically settled her other on his shoulder, more because she subconsciously knew it was the proper form for a dance than of her own volition. Jellal’s eyes glittered like a galaxy, and Erza was lost in their cosmos, an unwitting astronaut plunging into their depths. The string quartet set to their instruments, and with the serene shimmer of a love song, they began to dance.

Erza had never really danced before, but somehow, she did not completely manage to bungle things as Jellal guided her about the dance floor. Her body was pretty much on autopilot, moving at his command like a marionette by its masterful puppeteer. A few other couples danced around them, but Erza was hardly aware of them; her attention was completely captivated by the stunning man before her. The way he fixated on her with that roguishly inviting smile, piloting her body as if he knew it intimately, staring through her into the very depths of her quivering soul, Erza almost thought that he could love her.

“Erza, it would be helpful if you could assist in me keeping an eye on that fellow over there.” Her body stiffened as she realized she had been caught red-handed. Her hands weren’t the only things red, either; she knew her face was afire as she discreetly peered over Jellal’s shoulder to watch the men and try to catch snippets of their conversation. The businessmen looked quite heated now, as if they were not pleased with what they had been offered.

“… Now, gentlemen, there is no need to get so heated. Ten million is quite a gracious place to start the bidding on my part. After all, it’s not every day that you’re offered a relic of the dark wizard Zeref, is it?” At the mention of their former adversary’s name, Erza drew in a sharp breath. Jellal continued to sweep her around the dance floor but took care to keep her well within earshot of the table. “The Magus Staff is an extraordinary magical artifact.” A ripple of unease circled through the potential buyers.

“The Magus Staff is also forbidden!”

“What’s the Magus Staff?” Erza whispered to Jellal. She had never heard tale of such an artifact. Jellal frowned deeply, staring off at a point beyond her shoulder.

“It’s one of the many dark magic artifacts that Zeref created. Apparently the thing channels ‘Erasure’ magic. Anything the user wants to erase just vanishes without a trace… people, objects, entire armies. Its potential is limitless. That’s why it’s so dangerous and classified as forbidden,” he explained grimly. In the background, the music was reaching a crescendo, the various stringed instruments screaming in melodic cacophony. Erza was about to tune back into the conversation, but Jellal suddenly swept her away from the table in a few whirling spins, leaving her impossible dizzy.

“Jellal, what-“

“He’s watching.” Erza had to swallow the urge to glance back at the table, knowing that doing so would just confirm the buyer’s suspicions. She could feel his prickling gaze searching her back, and was suddenly uncomfortable that her dress plunged in the back and her shoulder blades were on full display. “Erza, you’re not very good at espionage, are you?” Jellal grinned, and he stole a loud gasp from her throat as he suddenly hiked her leg up around his waist, pulling her across the dance floor with her heel scratching against the tile. The song had finished and the band had begun playing a simmering, intense beat, a tango; the rest of the patrons had abandoned the effort, leaving the two of them alone- plenty of room for Jellal to do as he wished with her.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re enjoying this too much,” she pouted up at him as he dropped her leg only to pull her body against his such that there was not a millimeter of space between the fabric of their clothes. Her chest was pressed up against his and her back arched, forcing her to look directly up at him, at that smirk that starting a fire in her belly and those eyes that threatened to strip her armor away and bear her tremoring heart to him. It was hammering against her rib cage, driven crazy by the sheer amount they were touching and the overwhelmingly lusty atmosphere. Jellal’s hand was pressed against her lower back, guiding her around the dance floor in a sordid display that commanded the attention of everyone around them.

“Oh, I’m definitely enjoying it.” His husky whisper sent a shiver traveling up Erza’s spine. Did his face have to be that close? As the music hitched, so did Jellal’s moves, and once again Erza was flung about in a complicated turn. Except the music didn’t descend back into the intense calm, but exploded into the storm, trapping Erza in its maelstrom and stealing her breath away. Erza didn’t even have time to think about where Jellal had learned to dance so expertly as she was whisked around the dance floor; she was a sword in Jellal’s hand, brandished around and shining with the light and ringing with the sound of singing steel. Her heels clattered across the dance floor like popping firecrackers, barely striking the shiny tile before they were gone again. As the music crescendoed in a tumultuous symphony, Jellal grabbed Erza and plunged her into a deep bend backwards, holding up one of her legs while the other kept her suspended so far down that a few loose strands of her crimson hair touched the floor. There was a moment of deep silence before the room exploded in impressed claps. Erza’s chest was heaving with exertion and her skin was tingling with electricity from the exceptionally… erotic experience. She watched with wide eyes as a bead of sweat rolled down Jellal’s face. That smirk was intoxicating now; just looking at it was making her drunk. He eyed her triumphantly before his gaze flickered upwards.

“They’re leaving.” Erza tipped her head backwards. Though the image was upside-down, she could see the dealer and the businessmen rising from the table to exit down a nearby hallway. She gasped as Jellal suddenly jerked her up and spun her around to stand at his side. He looped her arms in his as he guided her off the dance floor, walking smoothly as if nothing had just happened, but Erza’s legs were trembling so much that she could barely walk in her heels. She leaned slightly against his body, and that smirk of his widened. What is he doing to me? she thought wildly.

There had always been something explicitly unspoken between Erza and Jellal, but that was all it had ever been; a whisper, a sigh, a wistful fantasy of what may be. This, however… This was not unlike the tango they had just danced to, a rising storm threatening to thunder upon the coast, exploding into a destructive force that would change everything. Erza was but a small vessel caught in the thrashing waves, being borne to whatever island that the hurricane Jellal was leading her towards. Erza had never really expected anything to ever come of the unspoken thing between them, but it was rapidly becoming apparent that she had been very wrong. It both scared and excited her.

But was now really the time?

They tailed the party of criminals outside the restaurant and to the side alley. Their target meandered down to the end, and Erza watched in mild horror as he picked up something long and thin wrapped in cloth from behind a dumpster. He yanked off the cloth to reveal a crooked black staff.

“Jellal, we have to- Oh!” Her words were cut off as he suddenly shoved her against the brick wall of the restaurant, hands on either side of her waist as he pinned her there. His face was so close that she could feel his hot breaths on her lips. He was staring out of the corners of his eyes, and she followed suit to see the party of criminals staring at them suspiciously.

“Erza, just follow my lead- and please don’t hit me,” he mused, and no sooner than he had turned her gaze back to him did he tilt up her face and press his mouth against hers.

Her mind didn’t need the Erasure magic to go blank.

Catching the criminals flew to the far reaches of her mind as Jellal’s mouth moved rhythmically against hers. If the night had been like a red-hot tango, then their lips were dancing in a smooth, melodious waltz, pure as moonlight and soft as silk. Erza abandoned herself to the calmness of the sea, allowing the breeze of Jellal to drift her further into bliss. She had never realized how much she wanted it until now- to be kissed by him, held by him, loved by him.

Too bad it was all an act.

As he relinquished her mouth to pepper kisses over her jawline, down her neck, and across her shoulders, his hands tracing intricate patterns on her sides, Erza felt her eyes flood with water. She could not choke down the small sob that escaped her lungs; it was just so painful, so unfair, that things had turned out this way. Jellal suddenly stopped kissing her too look up at her quizzically. “Erza…?” Her face was contorted in agony as she tried to tell him what was wrong, but she couldn’t force the words out of her throat. He watched her, confused and worried, and just so happened to glance out of the corners of his eyes.

It was a good thing he did, or it would’ve been the end for both of them.

“Look out!” he cried and wrapped her in a tight embrace before flinging himself to the side. They crashed to the ground together, and Erza looked up in time to see a blob of dark energy crash into the place on the wall she had just been. The brick seemed to melt into nothingness, vanishing without a trace to leave a large hole in the structure. The music from the dance floor and the din of conversation drifted out into the alley. Erza tossed a glance over her shoulder to see the dealer brandishing the Magus Staff with a dark sneer.

“Well, that wasn’t the demonstration I had in mind, but it’ll do, I suppose,” he snickered. Erza pushed herself up with a huff, and ribbons of light enveloped her figure as she changed into a more suitable outfit for fighting. Jellal blushed darkly, because his face was extremely close to her chest as she was pretty much bare save for a few ribbons of light in very strategic places, but Erza had finally managed to dispel the fog from her mind now that she was in her element. Speed was obviously going to be her ally so she selected her Flight armor from her vast inventory, cladding herself in the cheetah-patterned, ruffle-adorned armor. She stood up just as her two swords materialized into reality, and spun on her heel to kick off in a savage sprint down the alleyway. A vortex formed in her wake, buffeting the shocked Jellal and inadvertently sending him blasting out into the street.

“She’s a Fairy Tail wizard!” the businessmen panicked and attempted to scale the wall behind them, while the startled magical artifact dealer sent another blast of the dark magic careening toward her. Erza ducked to avoid the projectile and it claimed the dumpster instead, melting a hole in it and sending trash spilling out into the alley way.

“Take this!” Erza howled and brought up her swords, then delivered savage blows with the blunt sides to his abdomen. He went down pathetically easily, dropping the staff and flying backwards. He and his compatriots crashed through the brick and mortar to sail several yards down the adjoining alleyway, landing right at a very disappointed Natsu’s feet.

“Aw, man… You couldn’t save any of the fun for us, Erza?”

~~~~~~~~~~

With the criminals arrested and the Magus Staff in safe hands, Erza changed back into her dress and walked back into the street where Jellal was still sitting there pouting.

“I think you did that on purpose,” he sighed up at her. Erza smiled kneeled down in front of him, offering a hand. He smiled wryly and took it, allowing her to pull him to his feet.

“Consider it payback for all the teasing you’ve done to me tonight.” Now that they were alone again, Erza could feel his lips ghosting across the skin of her neck; she raised a hand to cover it, to chase away the phantasms of his lips that would haunt her for the remainder of the night. As her expression took on an obviously depressed edge, Jellal smiled and took her hand again, kissing the top of it like he had done previously that evening.

“Erza, you really are dense,” he mused quietly. Before she could inquire what he meant, he grabbed her by her upper arm and yanked her forward, catching his an intensely passionate kiss. His lips crashed against hers like the waves finally carrying Erza home after what felt like years at sea... home, into Jellal’s waiting arms. She melted against him, desperately trying to match the fervent rhythm he was playing against her mouth. His hands snuck into her scarlet hair to pull it loose from its up-do, and he buried them into the wavy, crimped strands as he aggressively but not painfully tousled it loose, the countless bobby pins that his eager fingers plucked free clattering down to the street like rain. Erza’s hands ran down his chest, feeling his abdominals even through the thick fabric of his suit flexing powerfully as he leaned further into the kiss. He teased her mouth open to envelop his tongue in her own, twisting and writhing with it in a zealous desire that left her knees weak. As she collapsed against him, held up only by the firm arm around her waist, she felt that fog drifting over her mind again; it was all right, though, because Erza was now safe upon the shores of ardent love, grounded in the man that she had desired for so, so, so long.

She had begun to cry again. Jellal pulled away from her, though her aching lips desired him still; her face followed after his, desperately chasing that feeling, until his hand caught her face and held her still. His thumb swept across her cheek to catch the tears falling like stars to earth.

“I love you,” she gasped, desperate, needing him to hear her before the words failed her again. “I love you, Jellal, I want you now and forever, I-“

“It’s okay,” he crooned softly, killing her babble with the softest of breaths. “You have me, Erza. Now and forever.” She felt her throat tighten as the intense emotion that she was feeling choked her, and all she could do was nod. He continued to gently stroke her face even long after her tears had dried. He didn’t kiss her anymore, only gazed at her with those eyes like galaxies, the cosmos that Erza wanted to find the farthest reaches of and belong to. Now and forever.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

Could I possibly, maybe, get a cute fic with Kuwabara being all sorts of nervous about his first date with Kagome, who he met in class at college? Yusuke and Keiko can be his coaches, while Kurama is trying to make him all suave and debonair and Hiei is being Hiei? Cause I've been craving some Kuwa/Kag something fierce ❤

Despite what his friend was saying, he was nervous. His palms were sweating, and he kept rubbing them against his pants, and all he could do was try and smile at the conflicting advice he was being given.

“Uh, guys?” his nervous call went unanswered as the only couple in the room were more occupied with each other on whose advice he should follow.

“No, Yusuke, he shouldn’t display his power in front of the poor girl.” Keiko shook her head, frowning up at her smug fiance. “He might end up scaring her for life.”

Yusuke snorted. “It won you over, didn’t it?” he smirked in her suppressed cry of anger, easily taking the smacks to his arm as if they were nothing. Which, in his case, they probably were.

“Why- Oh, you ass!” her gaze narrowed when she realized that her slaps to his arm were doing nothing, instead, reaching up to snatch an ear and pull Yusuke to her height. Teeth gritted at his surprised yelp. “It’s their first date. First dates shouldn’t involve fighting of any kind! Ya got that!”

Turning away from the two that had been eager to help him when he first revealed his interest in a classmate, he turned to a certain redhead that appeared amused by the couple obviously lost in their own world. “Kurama?” when he had his friend’s full attention, he offered a shaky smile. “Ya got any advice that I can follow?”

Smile turning into something, suave, Kurama nodded his head. “Of course.” red hair was flicked over his shoulder as green eyes took on a more golden hue. “Make the entire night about her. Compliment her, keep eye contact with her throughout the night. It would be better to keep some form of physical contact with her as well. You’re the male in the relationship, so take the lead but be polite and subtle about it.”

Kuwabara had been nodding his head, understanding some of what his friend was saying, but it slowed before stopping completely when the advice would end up hurting his chances with the girl more than help him. “Say what now?”

“If, for whatever reason, she seems to be bored with whatever you’re talking about, don’t be afraid to show her that you have options.” more of the kitsune spirit began to leak through, the tone and words taking on a slightly more devious quality to them. “Flirt with other women if you have too. You might even be able to swing both women into a night-!”

Keiko’s screech and a resounding slap interrupted Kurama’a continuation, thankfully in Kuwabara’s opinion. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand as his friend blinked a few times, coming back to his senses. “What did you ask for again, Kuwabara?”

“Tips on my date tonight?” his smile was still sheepish, hoping that Kurama would now have valid advice and dreading that it could also spiral into something that may have sounded like a skin flick reject.

“Oh, yes!” green eyes brightened. “Be polite and courteous. In these days, give her the option when it comes to certain things, but also let her know it’s no trouble. Such as paying for the meal, opening doors for her.”

Swallowing, Kuwabara soaked up the more helpful advice. This was something that Kurama often did when he accepted a few rare dates with a coworker or classmate of his own. Seeing it work for his friend had been the main reason he asked Kurama for assistance, he didn’t want to think about what could happen should their relationship became more intimate.

Looking back up, he halted when he saw that Kurama was currently attempting to keep Keiko from scaring Yusuke too badly when the filter between his brain and mouth apparently stopped working. Instead, he turned to the last member that could offer some sort of words of wisdom, if he was willing. Seeing the heavy red gaze on him, he took a chance to ask. “Anything you want to add?”

Hiei snorted, gaze turning away. “I couldn't care less if you mate the wench or kill her. I’m just happy Yukina got over her little infatuation she had with you.”

Blinking, he pulled back at his words. “Yukina had a crush on me?” the scowl his question earned had him attempting to real back to save his neck. It was somewhat flattering that Yukina had a crush on him, he would have thought she’d be more attracted to Kurama or another yuki-onna. But, like Hiei, she proved to be more than what she appeared to be. “Ah, don’t worry, don’t worry! I see her as a sort of kid sister!”

Obviously sensing the truth in his words, Hiei scoffed once again and turned away to observe the world outside of the window he claimed as his current perch. Looking at the clock, Kuwabara stood up from his seat and attempted to straighten out his outfit. “Well, I gotta get going, guys. Thanks again for all your help!”

Keiko and Kurama looked up at him with bright smiles. “Good luck, Kuwabara. She’s a lucky girl.” Keiko’s comment had him ducking in an attempt to hide his blush.

“I agree. You ‘ll do fine, just be yourself.” Kurama muffled Yusuke’s mouth, no doubt stopping any raunchy comments from being heard.

With another wave, Kuwabara left and made his way to where he was picking his date up, from her home. He found it admirable that she took such a long trip to get to and from their university, so she could stay and help her family with their home. When he came to the right address, he now understood what she meant by not being surprised and waiting for her to come to greet him. Looking at his watch, he realized he was early, so he decided to climb the steps that led up a steep hill. To think that she walked up and down these steps every day! Although, they weren’t as many as at Genki’s place, but there were still a lot.

Cresting on a humble shrine, he was instantly wowed by that large tree that towered over the courtyard, the late evening sun casting the tree’s over the small home that was tucked away in the back, guiding his way. There had never been a tree that he crossed paths with that felt like that huge tree, it was calming and now it was no wonder how his date seemed to maintain the same air around her all the time.

When he knocked on the front door, a boy blinked up at him. “Woah.”

Smiling, Kuwabara waved in greeting. “Hiya, little fella. Your sister home?”

The boy didn’t answer him, instead his eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down. “You’re weird looking.” with a shake of his head, ignoring Kuwabara’s slight miffed expression, he opened the door wider allowing him entrance as he called out into the house. “Sis, your date is here!”

“Coming!” her voice echoed from somewhere upstairs, instantly easing Kuwabara’s growing tensions.

Closing the door, the boy looked back at him, gaze still narrowed and lips pursed. “You better not do anything to her.”

The accusing tone had Kuwabara jumping to defend himself. “Oh! No! No, I would never!” he was just about ready to jump and defend his honor. If there was one thing his sister made her he knew growing up, it was to treat women right and with the utmost respect.

“Souta! Quit it!” exasperation accompanied by quick steps, had both turning stairs, watching as a young woman they were waiting for approached.

To saw Kuwabara was floored would be an understatement. He always thought she was pretty, but right now, she was beautiful. She left her hair free to curl about her shoulders, a dark blue dress that had faded flowers printed brought to point just how petite she truly was but made her all the more feminine. Simple silver earrings with a matching simple delicate chain was all she wore for jewelry, and as for makeup, perhaps some mascara and tainted lip gloss.

“Kuwabara!” her expression immediately bloomed into a bright smile, cheeks blushing slightly as she reached his side. As she stood on the tips of her toes, she tugged his taller frame to meet her half-way so she could kiss his cheek. “I told you that I would meet you at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Nah.” smiling down at her, he forgot all his worries when her small hands kept holding onto his arms as she slowly dropped back to her feet. “I’ve climbed more than that. And it wouldn’t be proper to make you climb all those stairs alone on our first date.”

Both of them blushed when his words seemed to make them realize that they were going out as a couple on their first date. The moment was interrupted when Souta spoke up. “Sheesh, talk about a couple of saps. I’m gonna get a cavity with all this sweet lovey-dovey crap.”

Kagome’s expression soured when she turned to her brother. “Keep that up, and Hitomi won’t stick around for much longer.”

Souta blushed and backed away from his angry sister. “I- I- I’ll be leaving now! Have fun! And if you hurt her, I’ll hunt ya down, ya got that!”

Kuwabara chuckled, but agreed to Souta’s threat, welcomed him to keep his promise even. He smiled when Kagome huffed and shooed her brother away. “So annoying!” her cheeks flushed as she pouted.

“He’s just doing his job as a brother!” Kuwabara chuckled when he poked a puffed out cheek, mentally cooing at how cute she was. “Are you ready?”

With another huff, she muttered about just needing to put her shoes on. He happily helped her, giddy when she accepted his held out hand to keep her balance. With a few careful taps, she looked back up at him with a bright smile. “I am now!”

Grin widening, he turned them to the door, bidding her family farewell with a promise to bring Kagome back home at a reasonable hour and unmolested, he set them out on their first date.

“I’m happy you accepted.” he was on cloud nine with Kagome on his arm, there was nothing that could get him down.

Ducking her head, Kagome blushed as she peeked up at him “I’m happy you asked.” a quick kiss to his cheek nearly caused him to trip and drag her down with him. Her giggles echoed around them as they walked down the sidewalk, Kagome asking if he was alright and him assuring her that he was.