#her deductive abilities

[revelry-in-severity]

Firm believer that the Dessendre family was pretty close before the incident

[honey-doc]

Why I appreciate Kabru and Mithrun's relationship in the story (with pictures!)

I just want to express how much I loved reading through the chapter with the 6 days they spent together and how I think their relationship developed in a pretty sweet way.

I feel like a lot of people reduce their dynamic to "nurse and patient" and that makes me sad because I personally got a lot more from it than that.

I do wanna start off by saying I'm here appreciating their dynamic as it is in the text.

Read more (spoilers ofc):

The beginnings

When they first met, there was an air of intimidation surrounding Mithrun as the captain of the ominous Canaries. He demonstrates his proficiency as a fighter and leader which worried Kabru because he knew it would lead to the dungeon falling into elven hands once again. But this threatening aura begins to dim in Kabru's mind as they get to know each other.

Even before they fell down the hole, the both of them ended up relying on each other's abilities a number of times (when the underground governor turned out to be corrupted Mithrun defeated him and Mithrun needed Kabru's deduction skills during the battle on the first floor) which is already the beginning of a great dynamic

(Kabwu is scared but Mithrun just asks for his help)

After Cithis tasked him with "taking care of Mithrun's needs" for the time being, Kabru treated Mithrun with proper respect and doesn't take advantage of his disability, even using his title “Captain” when he knew Mithrun wouldn’t have cared either way after learning about how he lost his desires. This is in contrast to Cithis who immediately took advantage of her position to mess around with Mithrun when she was taking care of him.

(When Cithis was put in charge of taking care of Mithrun)

The whole time Kabru is with Mithrun, he treats him like a person and more than just someone to be taken care of, as also he relies on Mithrun's fighting skills, knowledge of the dungeon, and teleportation magic.

When you reduce their dynamic to just "caretaker and patient", you're ignoring Mithrun's own capabilities and making him seem totally helpless. It actually feels rather ableist. They have a more balanced relationship with what Mithrun brings to the table than you may think. Mithrun couldn't have survived down there on his own, but it's the same for Kabru (who famously dies every time he fights)!

Kabru doesn’t show signs of trying to manipulate Mithrun either, and he's no longer intimidated by him in the slightest once he learns he’s not a threat or after his life. Though he does instinctively revert to his "sparkly" persona to get Mithrun to eat the disgusting mushroom, it doesn’t work so Kabru just has him eat it normally and never tries it again. This is the beginning of Mithrun unintentionally encouraging Kabru to be more honest with others.

(Kabru realizing he can chill out)

(Kabru being unreserved and Mithrun being silly)

bonus funny moment:

Bonding

Throughout the journey they talked to each other, shared things with each other, and ate with each other. And Kabru expresses genuine concern about whether Mithrun is comfortable (which is something he could live without and wasn't something the Canaries told him to do).

(Kabru showing he wants to make him comfortable by making food for him which is a very important part of the narrative)

(Kabru sharing intimate memories with Mithrun)

(Kabru initiating conversation without hesitation or worry. This part also is referencing how Mithrun shared very important details of his life with Kabru. Kabru also ends up trusting Mithrun with information about Laios despite knowing he could possibly tell the other Canaries about him and impede his plans..which he does lol they do end up knowing about Laios before meeting him.)

For a bonus Lycion implies Kabru was taking better care of Mithrun than they had been which is interesting to me.

Mithrun also shows that he has come to trust Kabru's decisions over the Canaries' when he says he wants to stay in the dungeon after fulfilling the caretaker requirement. They did talk to each other a lot, during that time. I wonder what Mithrun's Shapeshifter double of Kabru would look like now?

Here, Kabru goes out of his way to make sure Mithrun doesn’t overexert himself by knocking him out after the demon leaves with Marcille (again, when his time taking care of him is already over), and I think that demonstrates an extra level of concern he holds for Mithrun.

(Kabru holding back a hellbent Mithrun)

(KNOCKOUT!)

He even managed to make Mithrun mad. It's probably because he "let the demon get away" but I think it's cute and funny because would he huff like that at anyone else? Lol

When the demon breaks through the surface

Kabru begins panicking after Laios turns into the giant monster because he's wondering if he made the right decisions etc. If Mithrun didn’t care about Kabru at least a little bit, he would’ve just left him alone when he started losing it (right after Marcille did the same thing and she is technically more to blame for empowering the demon than Kabru was for not allowing Mithrun to go after it), but he went out of his way to snap him out of it.

It also means a lot to me that Mithrun even says Kabru's name, because in Japanese you can go your entire life without referring to someone by name and it wouldn't sound wrong (just rude) and it's the first time Mithrun says Kabru's name on screen (I checked).

Though it was with a slap, I think it says a lot, because if Mithrun didn’t care at all he wouldn’t have done anything and left him alone. It's not like Kabru could've done anything to stop the demon. He didn't even to tell him to do anything even though Kabru looked ready for an order.

(To be honest I don't know exactly why Mithrun starts beating him up here but you can say it's another rare demonstration of emotion Kabru was able to evoke in him lol. Maybe it's payment for Kabru stopping him the first time. That can be interpreted as paying it back and/or paying it forward I think.)

The last few chapters

And in the end when Kabru’s motivating Mithrun to continue living his life, he speaks to him like they’re friends/have no rank between them despite using the Captain title for him the whole time. Even Lycion initially gets upset that he’s acting “too familiar” with Mithrun.

It feels like Mithrun changed so much in the short time he spent together with Kabru and before the final battle, and it’s thanks to Kabru that Mithrun finally starts to be able to move past his lingering obsession with the demon and begin to really heal.

This is despite the fact that he spent so much time with Milsril and the other elves who never managed to break through to him like that.

(Before Kabru) (After Kabru)

And even after his role as Mithrun's caretaker was loong complete, he still shows concern for Mithrun and tells him to take a break when he's using up all his magic to slice the Falin meat (lmao).

He didn't need to do that! But it shows how he at least slightly considers Mithrun some kind of friend.

It all culminates with Kabru helping Mithrun regain his wil to live and Mithrun confiding in Kabru. Their relationship is important. Kabru continuing to do things for Mithrun to me is more of a sign that he just plain cares about him. Isn't it normal when a friend needs medication for you to remind them to take it? I think it's like that.

Kabru is there with Mithrun when he comes out about his feelings of uselessness AND when Senshi helps him put a spin on the 'vegetable scraps' metaphor and he find meaning in his life again. He's the first one to see him cry :')

Along with the fact that it feels like Mithrun is the first person we see Kabru doesn't feel the need to change his personality with or put on airs for since Mithrun doesn't need buttering up and he won't get offended if someone were to say something socially awkward, I think they made a pretty good team!

BUT ALSO the REAL reason I became endeared to them is cute shit like this:

GOD I love them!!!!! There are so many funny sides to Mithrun Kabru was able to bring out, and really show his charm as a character. Mithrun also brings out the best in Kabru while Kabru’s the most genuine he’s been since his debut with Mithrun. We are able to see that he’s just a kind and caring person, rather than the shady obsessed guy most fans have come to believe him to be.

The true depths of their dynamic also grew on me over time :)

TLDR

All in all it’s so nice seeing how even though Mithrun is a really deadpan person, and Kabru is a really secretive and withheld person, they clearly seem to have developed some kind of bond while they traveled together and even changed each other to an extent.

Doesn't Kabru feel more honest near the end? Maybe it's because of how much he talked to and shared with Mithrun during those 6 days so candidly...because they taaaalked a looooot like wow.

They mean so goddamn much to me. I don’t need them to be in a romantic relationship but I do want them to be together forever :'))) or like at least hang out when they have off time since they're still in the same country lol. Praying for Kui to make another side comic of them some time (crying).

Thanks for reading if you made it this far, I mostly arranged this because it makes me sad to see people reduce their dynamic to only one singular aspect.

Anyways ya...love 'em (heart hands)

[glitter-stained]

I think the Jason that gets isekaied into the Adam West show keeps a diary that documents the development of his mental health

"dear diary. Today Weird Dick asked me if I wanted to wear his Robin suit for a Halloween costume party while we were distracting the villains and I burst in tears."

"dear diary. The bats of this universe have this strange meta power where they just say things by association of ideas and that makes them true. They just call it "deductive abilities" and I don't think they've realised yet. Last time I framed a conversation about the zoo with Barbara to get her to the conclusion that Scarecrow and Penguin had teamed up and it just happened. I worry how this is going to affect the multiverse."

"dear diary. Today I killed the joker."

"dear diary. Today I killed the joker."

"dear diary. There's something seriously wrong with this universe."

"dear diary. Today I tried to jump in front of a nuke but bruce jumped in front of me and then a dolphin jumped in front of bruce and the dolphin's death neutralised the nuke. I fear I must resign myself to the ways of this world."

"dear diary. Today Weird!Bruce told me he was proud of me."

"no seriously wtf is going on with Selina?"

"dear diary. Today the bats broke into this universe with a portal and told me to get back home. I said no. Weird! Dick told Normal! Dick an insult so lame Normal!Dick popped a vessel. Weird!Bruce sent an "itchy powder bang grenade" at Normal!Bruce to get him to leave. It was nice."

[troublesh00terfaery]

BELOW 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT. THIS WORK IS NSFW! KEEP OUT! [THIS WORK IS PURELY FICTION]

[Alhaitham x AFAB! Reader]

Words: 3,003 Synopsis: In the heart of Sumeru, thrives the peaceful and unique kingdom to which governed by the monarchy. A young prince experiences a strange succession of dreams to which a mysterious woman comforts him. Wouldn't it be delightful to make this dreams into a reality? Tags: AFAB! Reader, slight teasing, Prince! Alhaitham x Goddess Reader. Pronouns for AFAB reader are she/her. Alhaitham slightly obsessed with you. So far, this will be main tags, more will be added on the following chapters. A/N: after a year of not posting, I AM BACK! AND YES, WITH MORE WORKS. I PROMISE I PROMISE! This idea has been in my head for quite sometime and I personally think you guys will be enjoying this. Should I make a series for the Sumeru men? Prolly. ALSO I DID NOT PROOFREAD THIS SO APOLOGIES, ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE. -Circe,xoxo. <3

FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

"My Lord, the scrolls have arrived." One of the scribes of the King arrived, offer him a handful of nicely kept scrolls.

For the past three months, Alhaitham has kept himself confined by the study. The setting filled with scrolls of knowledges, as if he tried to absorb every detail he was trying to comprehend. He only replied with a nod and took the scrolls and placed it by the table.

Alhaitham was the only son in line to the throne and he was no ordinary prince. With his knowledge and skill, the other neighbouring nations spoke of him warmly, although setting aside his stoic and rather cold demeanour upon interacting.

The past three months, a mysterious woman had appeared in his dreams in successions. Seemingly telling an ode to him but he couldn't remember what it was, only her beautiful face could he remember. Drapped in white linen and surrounded by padisarah flowers, she would comfort him in his serene dreams to only wake up with scrolls beside him and a cold cup of tea.

It haunted him, every move he made and every thought he had, it followed and haunted him. At times he could not sleep and tried his best to decipher what was it about. He would find himself drawing pictures of this mysterious woman to only ruin it, frustrated and convinced himself that it didn't look like her nor it was not her. Questioning his ability for artistic work he had learned.

At first, he was rather indifferent. It didn't bother him about this mysterious yet ethereal looking woman to appear in his dreams once in a while but as it went on oftenly, this somehow awakened something in him. His curiousity has took over him, trying to look for answers. He was not a man of spirituality but as the dreams went on, he had to summon a spiritual leader to interpret his dreams which he rather finds ridiculous. He was afterall, programmed with knowledge, rational, and logical thinking and approach.

But it did not help him at all, his curiosity grew and grew for this woman in his dreams. At some point, he would forcefully make himself fall asleep to see her again and promised to ever probe her, but her could not dream of her. Thus, he concluded that she would only appear in his dreams when it's: 1) it's night, and 2) when he doesn't force himself to fall asleep.

He wasn't a believer of such. In fact, as the dreams came in successions, he was concluding that he was either sick in the head or he lacked sleep. Given in his work focused nature, he deduct the idea that we was just lacking sleep but somehow, it made him rather stuck in a same routine where he longed for this mysterious woman in his dreams. Who was this woman? What did she mean? Was she real? What is she even?

Of course you were real, in fact, appearing in his dreams was not coincidence. You were indeed a living being, but not an ordinary one. Hindered from the advancement of Sumeru, lies your monastery filled with padisarahs and gold entombed monuments you refuse to leave for it is a sanctuary you have cultivated. It is true to what they say, the Sumeru has still secrets to be revealed, and you were one of the secrets yet to be come upon.

The dreams the prince set genesis when he stumbled upon an old scroll he found during the expedition a month prior his dreams. It was a shabby ancient scroll he found in a mausoleum to expand their territories in the vast lands of the sands. This way, they could keep a hold of the expanding group of eremites and their illegal trading and activities, as per the orders of the king himself to his only successor to the throne.

At first, he didn't pay much attention to the scroll as according to Alhaitham, it wasn't something he nor scribes comprehend. Although a shaman suggested this could be an ancient text telling a story of a goddess who secluded herself from the world. To his prior knowledge, Alhaitham considered the idea rather off. He digressed the notion of a goddess secluding herself from the world. Why would this goddess even seclude herself?

"Are you certain of this?" he asked the shaman, as if questioning the capabilities of the elder.

"That is for you to find out, your highness." the shaman replied.

Ridiculous. Alhaitham thought. He has never heard the tales of this mysterious divine being, nor was taught to him.

Unbeknownst to him, this would eventually trigger a response from you. You could hear his curiosity from a radius away and found it rather amusing. It didn't bother you that nobody prayed for you nor called out for refuge in your arms but this man has had you delighted. Is this an acknowledgment from a being the gods were referring to?

His growing curiosity was getting louder that you had to appear in his dreams. It was mere simple dreams, you appearing and observing him from a far, to showing him your small abode, to entertaining him by playing an instrument as he watched from a close distant.

And it got to the point that you teased the poor scribe by planting a small kiss on his lips. Upon breaking the kiss, he could only stare at you with feverish desire. His colorful eyes looking answers as you cupped his cheeks and feel his strong jaws clenching, urging himself to stop. He returned the favor by brushing his thumb to your luscious and plump lips, grazing his nose bridge by your supple cheeks and leaving kisses and hushed breaths. His palms making its way to your waist, as if trying to remember every detail he could remember. You let him, of course. Everything was new to you, the feeling of intimacy and the warmth of his touch would surge an unexplainable excitement to you. Something you lacked for years and something you, unexpectedly, found a need.

"Please, tell me who you really are and I would search for you in every nation." he begged, his head resting by your shoulder, seeking for both solace and answers as he left kisses over your exposed collar and neck.

You could only reply with a soft chuckle and cup his cheek and pecked a kiss on his cheek. It's a never ending question left unanswered. It was a cue to stop the dream and awaken him from his slumber. A kiss that would blur his vision and awaken him from his dream.

Even if it was only a dream in his point of view, he was still in your domain. Everything was real and it was beyond scientific explanation to prove that every time he was dreaming, everything was happening was happening in your domain. But could he really comprehend and figure out it was the goddess he denied of existence?

"Your grace, your father has called for you." a scribe entered his study, to find Alhaitham lazily looking by the painted ceiling. Seemingly awoken by the morning breeze of the open space of his chambers. The smell of incense from last night was freshly burnt out and the hues of the sunlight passing through the long curtains.

He tilted his head and responded with a nod. Few moments has passed, the prince presented himself to the king. Surprisingly, the king thought it would have been another day to nag the prince to get out of his chambers but there he was, walking towards the king in his seat.

"Father," he greeted.

"Ah yes, son." he spoke, delighted with the presence. Alongside the king was their pet, a Rishbolan tiger, Jihan, to which Alhaitham smiled as the big feline nudged its head to his legs before positioning itself beside Alhaitham.

"How was your night?"

Alhaitham could only remember your face and your soft chuckle. It took a moment before he could respond in his usual laidback demeanor.

"Nothing special." he replied. "You called?"

The king wasn't new to his straightforwardness and thus explained to him. A mysterious woman was spotted near the Vissudha expansion. The king explained to him that the guards spotted the woman just a few meters away from the construction the king has started two years ago. The woman was reported to be rather composed, explaining as to why she freely roamed the ungoing site. The site itself was dangerous, filled with wild beasts and noxious florals thus the only personnel allowed within the Vissudha expansion were architects and members of the royal committee.

"Oh." Alhaitham nodded to his father's story.

"The guards and the look outs commented on her knowledge with the terrains around Sumeru." the king replied. "So they brought her here."

"She's rather adventurous for exploring the area." Alhaitham circled the study table of his father before he comfortably sat by the sofa.

"Dare I must say, but her extensive knowledge with the sands is quite admirable."

"Oh?"

"Yes, in fact, I had spoken a few words with the young woman." The king chuckled, amused. "She's quite brilliant, suggesting a further expansion by the sands. Especially the mausoleums!"

Alhaitham could only respond with a hum. Seems like the women in Sumeru are rather peculiar for roaming carelessly, he thought.

"If I can guess, she's at your age or probably younger. Must have come from a noble family, and archons, her beauty is otherwordly!"

At his age, Alhaitham isn't new to his father's suggestion of him marrying. He was at the age, it is just that his son didn't pay attention and put the importance of it at this moment. He knows it so well that his father would insist upon meeting this woman and thus readied himself by rejecting his father's notion.

"You should meet her."

"No," he replied. "I have scrolls to keep and manage, father." he stood up, Jihad yawned from his action, causing for the feline to stand up and flex its body before nudging and circled the prince. "Jihad…"

The feline responded with succession of chuffs.

"No, no, guards please escort the young lady." the king hurriedly instructed, halting the young prince from walking away. The young prince heaved a sigh, and sat back by the wide sofa once again. This time, Jihad had placed himself by his lap and offed himself to his usual sleep.

The king himself was delighted to see the prince not walking away thus, became slowly impatient to introduce this lady and a few moments has passed, the guards themselves arrived by the king's chambers. Accompanying this said lady to meet the prince.

Each tick of the time, Alhaitham grew impatient with the little meet and greet. He angled his face to towards the curtains, he rubbed his forehead using his middle finger and his index finger whilst his thumb rested on the temple of his forehead. His other hand rested by the felines body to which Jihad appreciated by chuffing.

This was a waste of time, according to Alhaitham. He wasn't aware his father was a matchmaker, so eager to get his only son to be wed. The thought of being married has Alhaitham furrowing his brows.

"Ah, Alhaitham, come meet the young lady." The king softly spoke. Alhaitham could hear his positive remarks to this young lady to which she replied in small and shy chuckles. If he was to judge her, he would find her peculiar and mindless for roaming the area alone. Who on earth would walk alone confidently in an area yet to be finished with construction and still to be tamed?

"Father, I do not have time for this discussion you are initiating--"

"It is an honor, to finally meet the prince." the young lady spoke.

He took a peek from his fingers to have a view of the lady just a few meters away from him. And there she stood, wearing a simple white clothing and a scarf that was loosely wrapped around her hair, a few loose strands of her hair swayed by the wind.

Eyes matching the gaze of the royal prince, a small smile forming in your lips. Upon having a clear view of you, Alhaitham realized what was in front of him. Dumbfounded and speechless, he slowly stood up and awoken the tiger that comfortably laid himself by his lap. Jihad yawned and chuffed, excusing himself by jumping just below the luxurious sofa.

All he could do was to stand there and thought to himself this must be an illusion, or one of his dreams. Silence enveloped the study of the king as he observed you gaze at him with those beautiful yet studious eyes. It's like he couldn't decipher if it was truly you in his dreams or a different person.

There you were, standing in your corporeal form but nothing changed, only the clothing of choice. Ever so radiant, ever so ethereal. The prince couldn't utter any words as he was dumbfounded by the person in front of him. Was his head playing tricks with him? Probably the light? With every inhale an exhale you did, it was proof of life that you were indeed real. After nights of longing for you, you were finally here. In his reality.

Truth be told, this wasn't a scheme you would normally do. Why would a goddess, who voluntarily secluded herself from the world to live in her curated domain, leave her sanctuary? But oh, maybe it was his effect on you? Something finally ignited your curiosity from the outside world. A prince, a brilliant and handsome one.

The king was rather amused with the reaction of his son as he slowly approached you but then halted, as if doubting your existence again.

"Ah, seems like the prince is astonished by your beauty, my dear lady."

The warmth of the king only made you smile as you gazed at Alhaitham. He on the other hand somehow doubted every inch of life in you thus his brows furrowed. The king was indeed right, Alhaitham couldn't deny the beauty in you. You radiated of something out of this world, a beauty that could make a man lose his mind. Lethal, he would call it.

"They were right, your highness." you spoke. "He was indeed a beautiful prince."

Alhaitham stood there, ready to speak.

"Where did you come from?"

That was rather an unexpected question, you thought.

"I was just roaming around the area because I heard there was a constructio--"

"I am asking where are you from." His tone was stern but calm, probing the situation more.

You wouldn't tell him of your sanctuary. It would be ridiculous and of course, it was a secret.

"I came from the desert."

"Which part of the desert exactly?"

"Hadramaveth."

"Ridiculous, that area is out of the reach of the palace nor the council."

"Well I suppose you should widen your expansion within the desert." you replied with a monotone. "After all, the king mentioned you have an ongoing expedition, why not discover it yourself."

He could only stare at your answers, his hawk-like gaze observing you as if he was to judge you of your being. You actually forgot to distinguish whether this was his usual attitude compared to his demeanor during his dreams.

"That area of the desert is out of reach because of its harsh desert." he crossed his arms. "It is an untamed land filled with sandworms and consecrated beasts."

The probing session awakened Jihad whom approached his prince, slowly circling him.

"Well indeed, your grace." you replied. "But there is an area where humans can live, just the passage between Hadramaveth and the Tanit camps."

"To which the eremites occupy." he rebuked. "So, you are an eremite then?"

"No, of course not." the question made you furrow your brows.

"Then answer my question, where are you from?"

The king felt the tension between the two of you. You initially thought that he was going to be delighted to see you in your human form instead of his dreams. But here he is, questioning you. A human, questioning you.

"Now, now, Alhaitham." the king awkwardly chuckled, stepping in. "I think you are scaring the young lady. She offered help to navigate the sands."

"I already sent my men, no need for navigation." Alhaitham looked at his father.

"Your men are headed the wrong direction," you replied. "They're still at the mausoleums."

"And how do you know this? Are you certain they're my men? What mausoleum are you referring to?"

Well, shoot. Of course you couldn't tell him that you can just see everything in a snap. That would ruin your plan. Think. Think. Think.

Now you were certain this was a bad idea, you should've just shut yourself inside that sanctuary of your comfort instead of feeding this man of his wants. What is he up to anyway? You scolded yourself.

"Your highness--"

"That's enough. Guards, please escort this young lady to her quarters." the king sighed.

"No, father. She will be accompanying me in my study." Alhaitham turned his back, walking away and his tiger following along. "She'll have to map the desert out."

You stood there, dumbfounded. This was different man, a different man in his dreams. Where was the man who would look at you with those longing eyes despite being close together? Where was that man who would listen to you play the harp and smile as your grazed your fingers through the strings? Where was the man who would ask for your touch and comfort? Where was he?

You couldn't move from the unexpected reaction from him. Was he not content of seeing you? The silence enveloped and only the heave of the king snapped you back from the heavy thought. Alhaitham stopped as he noticed you were not tagging along.

"Come," he looked back with those stoic eyes.

What an unexpected turn of events.

A/N: FOLLOWING, REBLOGGING, INTERACTIONS, AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED! Make sure to follow the first hashtag #Circeworks୨୧ to be updated with my future works! Happy reading faes!

[potatoattorney]

@memeticallyengineered

If you think about it, Susato also wanted to be perfect (because she HAD to be perfect) so "failing" once made her want to give up.

She has a lot in common with Franziska, although they are also different, this is very interesting.

[floofiestboy]

Aoyama's Let's Talk Day 2025 Translation [Unofficial Sources]

EDIT: [2025-02-01]

The official transcript has been released. Please refer to my translation of it here instead.

Yesterday was Aoyama’s yearly Let’s Talk Day, a day when a lucky few audience members chosen by lottery have the chance to ask him questions. While the Q&A hasn’t yet been officially released, I’ve translated tweets about the questions asked. I can’t guarantee that they’re 100% trustworthy, but generally most questions were posted by multiple unrelated users.

In cases where different users reported slightly different answers for the same question, I consolidated them to the best of my ability. All source tweets at the end. Without further ado: 

Q. When Gin travels to other countries, does he stay at hotels, or does he have safe houses? I want to know whether he uses hotel-provided amenities like bathrobes.  

A. He sleeps in his car or stays at Organization-provided lodging- the Organization has apartments all over the place. He does also stay at hotels. The FBI still hasn’t discovered them. He does wear bathrobes! He has long hair so I imagine it’s tough to wash.

Q. What sports does the England-born Akai play aside from Jeet Kune Do?

A. He learnt Jeet Kune Do from his father, so has no interest in sports other than that. But I think he might be good at cricket since he’s English. Maybe baseball in America.

Q. Does Hiro have any experience with martial arts?

A. He learnt some at the police academy. He has no other experience, but he’s decently strong- weaker than Kyogoku though.

Q. As you were a guest on Kōhaku Uta Gassen [T/N: A music show that traditionally airs around New Year’s in Japan] this year, do you have plans to write a case based around it?

A. I doubt NHK would let me (haha) I did think a music show case might be fun, but they’d probably still bother me about it.

[Questioner: What if you changed the name? Like, a West vs. East tournament.]

I’ll think about it.

Q. Will the Kuroba family and Kudo family meet each other in the future?

A. Is that something you want to see? I’ll think about it.

Q. What will Momiji do now that Heiji and Kazuha are dating?

A. I don’t think Momiji will give up? She’ll do her best.

Q. How can you think up so many different characters?

A. I don’t know (haha) Maybe because I’ve seen lots of different manga, dramas, and movies. 

[Questioner: So they just pop up in your mind.]

Something like that.

Q. Do you plan to write a story where Chihaya and Furuya meet?

A. Ah, so Chihayafuru, you mean (haha) It sounds interesting, so I’ll think about it.

Q. What can you tell us about this year’s movie at this point?

A. When I told Rikiya Koyama [T/N: Mouri’s VA] that Kogoro is the main character this year, he told me he was nervous. Once he was done, Takayama-san [T/N: Conan’s VA] told him he sounded cool. 

Q. What’s the best part of this year’s movie?

A. I can’t say, but I think you’ll be shocked.

Q. What’s your favourite case so far?

A. Ran GIRL & Shinichi BOY. I love it.

Q. How did Kogoro manage to become a detective without deductive abilities?

A. He doesn’t have deductive abilities, but he’s good at shooting and judo. And he has Conan around. Everything works out.

Q. Was Nakamori Aoko born in September?

A. When is good?

[Questioner: Since Kaito was born on the 21st, maybe the 12th?]

 I’ll think about it. I haven’t decided, but since Kaito’s birthday is June 21st (6/21), maybe September 12th (9/12) makes sense.

Q. What kind of things does Ran talk about with her karate club friends?

A. What would you like?

[Questioner: Romance talk!]

I do think they chat about that. Everyone would be interested to hear about how things are going with Shinichi. If a scene like that ever comes to mind, I’ll think about including it.

Q. What is Furuya’s family situation like?

A. Secret, as I haven’t decided for certain just yet- it might still change.

Q. Will you ever draw the moment Kazuha fell for Heiji?

A. Do you want to see it? I might.

Q. At Abeno Harukas, Heiji confessed and was holding hands with Kazuha, but did Heiji initiate the hand-holding?

A. Yes. I don’t know if I’ll ever draw that though.

Q. At Kōhaku Uta Gassen, were there any artists you enjoyed other than aiko, B’Z, and Fukuyama-san?

A. Ah, I can’t think of anyone but them. But they were all good. B’z was amazing. It was all dark in the audience seating, but when I thought “oh, something is moving,” it was truly amazing by the end. B’z is my choice! (haha)

Q. Do you have any plans for a spinoff featuring Hattori?

A. Like Zero’s Tea Time?

[Questioner: More like Hanzawa-san.]

What’s the difference between Zero’s Tea Time and Hanzawa-san? Did you want a spinoff? There’s no plans for one right now.

Q. Are there any characters you plan to have romantic developments for in the near future?

A. Kansuke and Yui, and Juugo and Chihaya… aside from that [glances at the moderator] that character… if I say who it is, we’ll get flamed online, so… (haha) 

[The audience goes abuzz]

Well, yes. I can’t tell you right now (haha). Let’s leave it at that.

Q. What’s the plan for next year’s movie?

A. I can’t say, but they do already have it planned.

Q. Who will be the star of next year’s movie?

A. I can’t say, but it’s already been decided as well as the stage.

Q. I’m from Hokkaido. Do you have plans to draw any famous tourist spots in Sapporo? 

A. Hakodate was recently the stage, so it would need to be some time in the future. Any recommendations?

[Questioner: Suzukake Park, Oodori Park, Sapporo TV Tower.]

Ah, got it, I’ll think about it.

Q. We know that Azusa has worked at Poirot for at least one year, but how long has she worked there in total?

A. I don’t know. Maybe since she was in high school. Oops, I just said whatever.

Q. Any plans for a movie set in Tottori?

A. Not at this time. I’ll think about it. I did try to incorporate the Tottori dialect once, but I was told it was incomprehensible. Tottori dialect is pretty hard. If we do a movie here, I’d like it to use Tottori dialect.

Q. It seems Momiji won’t give up even now that Heiji and Kazuha have gotten together, but will Iori continue to serve Momiji in the same way? Will he ever leave due to his old work?

A. He’ll be by her side forever. I think he’ll protect her until the day he dies.

Q. What would you want to eat at a Conan café? 

A. Naporitan spaghetti. I have childish tastebuds, so I also like Hamburg steak and hamburgers.

Q. I like aiko, so I want to hear the behind-the-scenes details about your talk with her on Kōhaku Uta Gassen.

A. During our preparatory meeting, I asked whether I should say “Funya!”, but I was told I couldn’t (because it’s from a different agency.) [T/N: Not familiar with this myself, but maybe it’s some idol’s catchphrase or a reference to a show.]

[Questioner: After meeting aiko, did any murder case ideas come to mind?]

No (haha) It would be sad to kill her off. Maybe a case with a singer involved… I’ll think about it. Aiko was cute.

Q. Kurayoshi’s phone number area code is an important plot point in Conan, but will the city be involved in the future?

A. A coincidence. Kurayoshi residents will get mad at me otherwise.

Q. What did you do for New Year’s as a child?

A. Usually my family would ask me to visit a shrine with them, but I’d stay at home since it was too much of a pain. These days, I always go for my health. [T/N: In Japan, it’s tradition to visit a shrine on the first day of the new year.]

Q. What’s Inspector Ayanokouji’s personal life like? What are his hobbies?

A. He feeds Maro-chan. Hobbies… I wonder. He does like Maro-chan. What would you like?

[Questioner: Something like archery.]

Archery? Well, I’ll think about it.

Q. Do you have any plans for a triple date with Heiji-Kazuha, Shinichi-Ran, and Kyougoku-Sonoko?

A. I hadn’t thought of that before, but I’ll think about it.

[Questioner: So you don’t plan to think about it.]

Sorry (haha). 

Q. Any information on Akai and Amuro’s chat nine hours later?

A. I can’t say. It’s a truly mysterious tea party (haha)

Q. In your Professional interview, you were eating curry, but is there any other food or snacks you like to eat while working?

A. I only really eat cheap stuff, so (haha)  I’m really into the beef don mini-pack from Yoshinoya- it’s a pretty small portion. It’s healthy and good. Also, curry from Coco.

Q. The Saitama prefecture is right next to Tokyo, but has never made an appearance. Any plans for Saitama prefecture police to appear?

A. Yokomizo did show up in Saitama at first, but he did move to Shizuoka, so (haha) I tried to have him go back, but I was told that then it just seemed like he never moved at all. I’ll write about Saitama eventually. I’ll think about it.

Q. What does Kazuha like aside from aikido? 

A. She likes Heiji… (haha) I think she likes cooking just like others like her would. Do you have any thoughts on what she might like?

[Questioner: What…]

[Moderator: Well, that’s what they wanted to know in the first place.]

I’ll think about it.

Q. I’m from Taiwan. Conan has only ever gone to England in the manga. Will he ever go to another country in the manga, not the movies?

A. It would be tough while he’s still Conan, as he doesn’t have a passport. His only choice is for Kid to stuff him into a suitcase, but I can’t use the same trick twice (haha) I’d like to go to Taiwan one day.

Q. Akai and Amuro infiltrated the Organization and know about Sherry, but don’t know of the existence of APTX4869?

A. They do not. There’s a reason why the details of her research and her family isn’t well-known in the Organization, but that’s secret. Even parents wouldn’t tell their children about it in the Organization. 

Q. Do you plan to introduce any new Organization operatives?

A. What would you like?

[Questioner: Amaretto!]

I'll think about it.

Q. Do you plan to draw Shinichi and KID facing off?

A. Shinichi. You mean big Shinichi, huh? I’d love to. (haha)

Q. What last name do you like, or would like to have?

A. Kudo! (haha) Since Kudo Yuusaku as portrayed by Matsuda Yuusaku was cool. If I can, I’d love to become one! (haha)

Q. Did you decide that Heiji would confess on a tall Osaka building even before the Abeno Harukas tower was completed? [T/N: It opened in 2014]

A. I decided after the Abeno Harukas tower was completed. But I did know from the start that Kazuha’s mother would make an appearance to include a twist.I wanted everyone to think that he’d confess to her mother by mistake. 

Q. Who’s stronger between Kogoro and Ran?

A. That’s quite the question (haha) Kogoro is strong! But, Ran is catastrophically strong too (haha). I think it’s hard to say? But if they fought against each other, he’d probably hold back against Ran. Since he’s her dad.

Q. You can really feel the cultural differences between Kyushu and Tokyo. Do you plan to write a case based on that?

A. I’d like to.

Q. Do you have any special tidbits for us aside from what you’ve already told us?

A. Kansuke and Yui and Koumei’s childhood will appear in the movie. Take a good look at the illustration I drew for the Conan Tanteisha store as well. 

Q. Anything you’d want to incorporate into Tottori’s Mystery Tour? Tourist spots and restaurants you’d recommend?

A. I’d like them to make use of Tottori’s Odaiba, crabs, and apple-pears.

Q. Who’s the tallest among all your characters?

A. Date and Gin! Kyougoku is a little shorter, but those three are the tallest. Kazami is too tall in the anime. He should be the same height as Furuya. [T/N: One source also claimed he said that Gin is taller than Date.]

Q. Will Miyano Shiho and Kudo Shinichi ever star in the same case?

A. Ah, I can’t tell you that. Whoops, I almost let something slip (haha)

Sources

https://twitter.com/hrksdc/status/1875104017174639079

https://twitter.com/brainwashednerd/status/1875109428812460351

https://twitter.com/yuki_det_con/status/1875121186411348179

https://twitter.com/Flambe4869/status/1875236194071834928

https://twitter.com/nyarura73/status/1875104933978206521

https://twitter.com/mskAK25/status/1875125288943989101

https://twitter.com/furu_rei0/status/1875126654412177457

https://twitter.com/44_mcs/status/1875132311219634602

https://twitter.com/44_mcs/status/1875119113670144425

[bubblyernie]

Back in May I designed some Disco Elysium skills for Erril :0 I SUPER love the artwork for DE, and I think I finished it around the time I drew this

art tag // commission info

Here's all of them, I'll elaborate below uwu

AUTOPSY: The scene of ruin sits in front of you. Analyse, operate, disassemble. This skill is for deduction, "what went on here" by picking apart a person, action, behaviour, scene etc. similar to Visual Calculus

LORE: Consult your library of knowledge, especially the dark dusty shelves. Erril cast's legend lore, ie, Encyclopedia

LINGUISTICS: You speak in many tongues. Too many, in fact. Mechanically he has like 8 or so languages. Prodigy/acolyte/half-elf build. It's cracked. Also applies to reading lips and figuring out writing or foreign language

CURIOSITY: Killed many a cat, but luckily, you can bring it back. Using hypotheticals to deduct answers or find clues like Investigation

THEOLOGY: Pull apart texts of prophets long before you. This is consulting like religious or historical texts and interpreting them. A manmade counterpart to Pantheon.

PRODIGY: Potential runs through your blood, exorcise it. It's a feat Erril has, I see it as using sheer willpower and luck to attempt something drastic/brand new, like raw talent

PANTHEON: Skip the middle man, let the gods sear their visage into your third eye. This one is more for direct communion with gods, a la Divine Intervention

TENETS: Your oath will answer you when you plead. Basically utilizing Erril's culty tenets as a way to justify or reason an action.

WHISPERS: Confession is not reserved to the walls of the church. Keep your ears and mind open. This is Shivers basically, picking up happenings around using your intuition.

PROPHETIC DUTY: Your people look to you, a martyr, an idol. It's your call, cult leader. This one utilizes a position of power, like using Authority or at least influencing people within the cult or status of the cult etc.

INQUISITION: Your voice arises, authoritatively, from the other side of the confessional. Kinda jumping off the Prophetic Duty one, this is more for actual questioning or interrogation.

EGOMANIA: The gods shake their heads as your confidence pulls through once more. This is utilizing reckless abandon, kinda like adrenaline/delusion fuelled actions that could lead to success. Erril's got crazy hubris bro

VAGABOND: Become one with the earth. Survive. This one focuses on tactical skills and navigation. Part of Erril's wanderlust and mountaineering I guess.

DOUBLE DOWN: The limits set by yourself and others are but a cost to be paid for your goals. This is like where Egomania becomes physical and basically becomes like a big burst of power at the cost of self or others.

ANIMATE: Be the dead man walking. Erril's got uncanny luck when it comes to being hit with damage but this is like Endurance essentially. Also applies to necromancy.

RADIANCE: Use your divinity and become an object of reverence. Tapping into the aasimar side of his lineage and using this as a way to intimidate or charm people, like Electrochemistry but from a divine perspective.

UNSETTLING NATURE: Your hunter's eyes betray your benevolence. This is Intimidation.

FORMICATION: Tune into the prickles under your skin, something's crawling here. This is about bugs under your skin, a very Perception/insight based skill, used for noticing things both from others and self.

OBSERVE: Be a watchman, unapologetic and unbiased. This is for Perception of the surroundings/incident and also ability to keep levelheaded and unbiased when using logic.

FORTIFICATION: Grind your heels deeper in, buckle, but do not break. This Endurance but for both mental and physical, like Constitution.

FLEET-FOOT: The wind graces you with her dexterity. An elf thing, this is for Dexterity, ability to escape both socially and physically.

SURGICAL PRECISION: Your cleanest cuts are made when there is no chance for another. This is similar to savoir-faire. Basically your ability to use your hands, ie, Sleight of Hand, but also doing it under pressure.

CORDES DU DESTIN: Cut the strings of fate before they are even woven. This is foresight, and being able to manipulate an outcome.

CLANDESTINE: Keep face, remember your faith. This is Composure or like a Charisma save, figuring out when to speak and when to not and how to act.

[konahana27]

Bourbon / Amuro Toru / Furuya Rei Zero's Tea Time Opening Font Analysis based on YT comment that basically make me brainstorm everything here:

(It's actually JP comments, this picture is from mtl)

[Directly copied from my Twitter post]

Bourbon's font is very much flashy. In a way, it's befitting of Bourbon, who's known in the Black Organization as someone highly intelligent and excellent tracking ability, who Akai also doesn't want as enemy. Even Gin himself irritated by him for always doing as he please, while at the same time being so secretive like Vermouth, with a sentence I directly quoted from detectiveconanworld, "One who you wish only existed in novels. A detective like Sherlock Holmes."

"Bourbon has excellent information gathering skills and keen insight." By Kir

Vermouth is wary of him for knowing her secret (to be honest, HOW. That woman can be as secretive as Rum?? Especially considering this secret make Vermouth unable to kill Bourbon even if she wanted to).

Basically, I mean Bourbon himself is very conspicuous in the Organization.

So it's really not a surprise if Bourbon font is as flashy and eye-catching as picture above.

Amuro's font is in cutesy style, and much simpler than Bourbon's font, but you clearly can feel his personality from that font alone.

He's a cheerful, full of passion to become better detective like Sleeping Kogoro. His reputation isn't as striking as Bourbon, but he's not that unnoticeable either. Amuro is someone you feel comfortable with. He's not very active nor very passive. Someone good at talking and listening.

His existence alone give comfort, as if he will understand you, care for you, and not in unbearable way.

Amuro will offer you a sweet and cute smile, his deduction ability will help you solve your problem, he will take care of your need without asking. You may even get his delicious cooking!

He's a simple person, and that's why he manage to get everyone to be comfortable with him.

His font represented his whole personality. Not an overly bold person, nor a quiet person. He's sweet, attentive, calming, with undeniable skills, who's at first glance looks like nothing special.

Now, Rei's font. It's.... Flat. Like a default font you use for report. It's simple like Amuro's font, but in bad, boring way.

Rei's font isn't flashy like Bourbon, or simple but cute like Amuro. It's empty. It's formal. Nothing represented his personality.

... No, maybe it is represent him. Because Rei is someone without much attachment to life.

Rei has nothing precious in the world anymore, so all his devotion focus on one and one only, to protect Japan, the place where all his beloved people born and die for.

This formal font represent Rei who never opened himself to the world. No one alive knew his experience, his childhood, his feeling. No one.

His subordinate is the one he feels fondness the most, but in the end, Rei still have reservation in front of his subordinate.

His font is flat and too normal, because Rei doesn't have any 'color' anymore in his world. It's just his work, work, and work. He's someone who will never complain about work, because his work is all he have left. His work is what make him manage to still strive in life.

That's why this font is such a perfect representation of Furuya Rei, who's unwilling to let loose his hand on his work as PSB agent Furuya-san, as undercover Bourbon, and as fabricated identity Amuro-san.

"Forget three. I could act out a hundred different faces..." (Furuya Rei)

End of Thread! You know I love a character so much when I actively making content about them.

Additional: This is probably why I absolutely refuse to call Rei as 'Amuro'.

Unless I'm talking specifically his action as Amuro in front of other people, I'll always call him 'Rei'.

I don't want 'Furuya Rei' to be forgotten. I want 'Furuya Rei' to be alive and fresh in my memory.

Because 'Furuya Rei' is his truest self.

[ghostlynightpanda]

HIII!! Could you write a “Aib characters with a reader who is better then them”? Like for Aguni, reader would be stronger than him. For Mira, reader would be better at manipulation than her. For Chishiya, reader would be smarter and colder than him. Just stuff like that. I’d love to see what your imagination comes up with!🙃

AIB Characters react to Reader being better than them

content/warnings: Ann, Kuina, Mira, Aguni, Niragi, Last Boss, Chishiya, canon typical blood and violence, 3.600 words

Ann

There weren't many people Ann couldn't read.

She didn't need grand speeches or emotional outbursts — she only needed the angle of a jaw, the flex of a muscle, the twitch of an eye. Her ability to stay calm under pressure made her formidable. Silent. Stoic. She calculated outcomes faster than most could process the problem. And when everyone else was screaming, she was already walking toward the exit.

So it bothered her that she couldn't figure you out.

From the moment you stepped into the Beach, you moved with intention. Not the kind born from training — no, this was deeper. Controlled chaos. Every smile you gave was layered. Every suggestion you made felt like a test wrapped in silk.

Ann first noticed you during a brutal game of Hearts. She watched you talk a grown man into betraying his team, watched you predict the traitor before the game even began, and then calmly eliminate them when it was over. Not a single emotion flickered across your face. But the worst part?

You saw her watching. And you smiled.

"You're unsettling," Ann said one evening, blunt as always. The fire crackled low, casting both your shadows across the broken tiles of an abandoned lobby.

You didn't look up from your makeshift map. "Unsettling people usually say that."

She tilted her head. "And what does that make you?"

"Someone who scares the monsters back into the dark."

She didn't laugh — Ann rarely did — but something tugged at the corner of her mouth. You were better at observing than her. You noticed things before they happened, not as they did. You were logic before emotion. You didn't just read the room — you rewrote it.

She'd seen the way others deferred to you without realizing it. Even the most cunning players leaned in when you spoke, clinging to the cadence of your voice like it offered salvation. But Ann? She wasn't looking for salvation.

She was looking for an equal. Or at least, she had been. Until she realized…

You were already ten steps ahead.

It came to a head during a Diamonds game — the kind where logic, deduction, and social manipulation all collided. Ann had worked out the puzzle in seventeen minutes.

You solved it in nine — and used your remaining time to trap the game master in a psychological checkmate so vicious, even Kuina winced.

When the game ended, Ann caught up to you. Quiet. Focused.

"Do you enjoy being the smartest person in the room?" she asked.

You glanced at her, your expression unreadable. "Not really. It's lonely."

A beat passed.

"Then stop standing in the corner," she replied, and for the first time, there was a flicker in your eyes — surprise, maybe. Or amusement. You weren't sure.

But you walked beside her after that.

And Ann? She didn't mind being second-best — not to you.

Because sometimes, strength wasn't just about dominance. It was about choosing someone who made you sharper. Someone whose silence echoed louder than noise. Someone who didn't need to lead to be followed.

Kuina

Kuina had fought her entire life.

She fought through stares, whispers, bloodied knuckles and broken ribs. She fought her way into womanhood and then clawed her way into survival, match after match. And when this world demanded more, she gave it. Her speed was unmatched. Her agility, terrifying. She was quicksilver in motion, a blade wrapped in breathless beauty.

So it physically pained her to admit that you were better.

It started small. The first time she sparred with you, she expected the usual — quick dodges, a little resistance, maybe even a bruise or two. She didn't expect to be disarmed in ten seconds. Flat on her back in twelve.

You offered her a hand. She glared at it.

"You hesitated," you said. Calm. Precise. Like you were giving her advice, not flaunting the win.

She scowled and got up without taking your hand. "I don't hesitate."

You tilted your head, looking through her like you already knew all her tells. "You do when you're watching my hips."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

You smirked, brushing past her with the same casual grace you fought with — relaxed shoulders, even breathing, not a single ounce of wasted movement.

"Your eyes drop when I switch stance. Tells me where you're expecting the hit."

From that moment on, you haunted her.

It wasn't that Kuina resented you. Not exactly. It was more like… she couldn't stop chasing you. 

Every game you joined, she watched. You didn't fight like anyone else here. You didn't rely on brute force or flash. You moved like the fight was already over, like you were just catching up to the body hitting the ground.

One night, she cornered you on a rooftop, the city burning orange behind you.

"Do you even get tired of winning?" she asked.

You turned, your silhouette outlined in firelight. "Only when it's easy."

She stepped closer. "And I'm not easy?"

A pause. You smiled, slow and deliberate.

"Not yet."

You trained together after that.

Sometimes it was sparring. Sometimes it was a chase through crumbling alleys and collapsing arenas. And sometimes — her favorite — it was just watching you fight. The calm in your eyes. The flow of movement. The way you never wasted energy proving how good you were.

Because you didn't need to prove it.

You didn't fight like someone who'd been challenged — you fought like someone who had never lost.

"I used to think no one could beat me," Kuina murmured one day, breathless from your latest match.

You raised an eyebrow, handing her a bottle of water. "You're still one of the best I've ever seen."

She scoffed, grinning as she wiped blood from her lip. "Don't patronize me."

You leaned in, close enough that she forgot about the ache in her shoulder, close enough to feel the heat in your voice when you whispered:

"I never said I was better because I'm stronger, Kuina. I'm better because I've lost more."

And just like that, she understood.

You weren't just a better fighter — you were someone who knew what it cost. Someone who fought like they had nothing left to lose.

But Kuina? She wasn't scared of losing anymore.

Not if it meant losing to you.

Mira

Mira had always thought of herself as the queen.

Not in name, but in presence. In every room, every conversation, she controlled the rhythm. People danced to her tone, bled for her amusement, and fell apart because she let them believe it was their idea, and none of them even noticed she controlled them like that. Manipulation, to Mira, was art — the brushstroke that didn't touch the canvas but still changed its color.

And then you arrived.

You didn't take the room. You didn't need to. You simply existed within it — still, calm, untouchable. While others used charm, you used silence. 

While Mira smiled and dangled people on threads of honeyed lies, you whispered truths so precisely chosen, they unraveled people faster than any deception.

She first saw it during a game. A brutal Clubs match, designed to test loyalty. Mira expected betrayal, tears, breakdowns. She anticipated every shift in the group — or so she thought.

And then, you spoke.

One sentence. Not even cruel — just true.

By the end of the hour, the team had turned on itself like a serpent eating its tail. Mira stood amid the ashes, a flicker of awe breaking through her usual amusement.

She hadn't predicted you.

Later that night, she approached you alone.

"You're very good," she said, swirling a glass of wine. "At making people tear out their own hearts."

You gave her a pleasant, disarming smile — the kind that meant nothing. The kind that meant everything.

"I just point out the cracks," you replied. "They decide whether to fall apart."

"Even I couldn't have orchestrated what you did back there," she said. "And I've made people cry from compliments."

You didn't blink. "That's because you want them to look at you while they break."

You stepped closer, voice low and surgical.

"I don't need attention, Mira. I just need the outcome."

That was the moment Mira knew she'd found someone more dangerous than her.

Because you didn't manipulate for sport — you did it with purpose. You didn't pull strings out of boredom. You laid traps with no fingerprints, and people thanked you as they stepped into them.

You were subtle.

Where Mira painted a stage and pulled the spotlight, you rearranged the whole room when no one was looking — until they were dancing to your tune and didn't even know the music had changed.

It drove her insane. It thrilled her.

She started watching you. Closely. Tried to catch you in the act, tried to trace the cause-and-effect of your games. But you were smoke and intent. Nothing stuck long enough to hold. And worst of all?

Mira couldn't tell if you knew she was watching. Or if you'd meant for her to.

"Tell me the truth," she whispered one evening, her voice like lace and razors. "Am I your next game?"

You met her eyes, serene and merciless.

"You don't remember it, Mira… but you already played. And you already lost."

She laughed then — a genuine, unguarded sound. Not because she found it funny. But because she finally understood what it felt like to be outplayed.

And God, she loved it.

Aguni

Aguni had always been the strongest in the room.

He didn't need words. His presence spoke louder than threats ever could. Broad shoulders, a soldier's stance, and a stare sharp enough to cut through anyone stupid enough to challenge him. In the Borderlands, that kind of strength kept you alive. Commanded loyalty. Made monsters hesitate.

Until he met you.

You didn't speak much. You didn't brag. You didn't posture.

But when the first game descended into chaos — fists flying, blades drawn — you moved.

And everyone else stopped.

You fought with brutal efficiency. Not flashy. Not cruel. Just pure control. Like your body was designed for this — forged in wars deeper and darker than anything this world had to offer. You knocked a man twice your size unconscious without breaking rhythm. When another player tried to run, you caught him and snapped his wrist like it was paper.

Aguni didn't step in. Didn't need to. He was too busy watching.

You didn't fight with anger. You fought with precision. And that was far more terrifying.

Later, after the game, you sat alone, cleaning the blood from your hands with an almost clinical calm. Aguni approached you slowly, muscles still tense.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" he asked.

You looked up, barely sparing him a glance. "You don't want to know."

"I asked, didn't I?"

You finally met his eyes, and there was no fear there. No submission. Just quiet, measured stillness — the kind of stillness that came from someone who'd seen worse and survived it.

"Some people get strong from training," you said. "Some of us get strong because there's no one left to protect us."

From then on, you became a problem he couldn't solve.

Aguni wasn't intimidated often. But you? You made him second-guess himself. Not because he thought you'd hurt him — but because he knew, without a doubt, you could.

He saw the way others gravitated toward you, not because of fear, but because of the way you made them feel safe. Like as long as you were standing, nothing would touch them. That was power — the kind you didn't need to flex.

The kind he respected more than anything.

One night, during another game, the two of you ended up back to back, surrounded. Aguni raised his fists, ready for war. But before he could even lunge, you moved — swift, surgical, unstoppable.

When the last body hit the floor, he turned to find you untouched, barely breathing hard.

He exhaled, tension melting into a low chuckle.

"You always gonna finish the game before I even throw a punch?"

You shrugged, eyes scanning the arena. "I trust you to clean up. But I don't wait on anyone."

He liked that. Liked the edge in your voice. Liked that you weren't trying to prove anything.

You just were.

Later, in a rare moment of honesty, he said quietly: "You're stronger than me."

You didn't deny it. But you leaned in, voice low and steady. "Doesn't mean you're weaker."

And for the first time in a long time, Aguni let himself breathe. Not because the danger was gone — but because youwere there.

And when someone stronger than you chooses to stand with you, not above you?

That's strength you can trust with your life.

Niragi

Niragi thought he knew crazy.

He wore it like armor — chaos and fire and unfiltered violence. In this world, that kind of madness made you untouchable. No one crossed Niragi, not unless they had a death wish. His unpredictability kept him alive. His rage gave him purpose.

But then you showed up.

And for the first time, he wasn't the one people feared most in the room.

You weren't loud. You didn't scream or shoot for fun. You didn't sneer or make threats you couldn't keep. You were quiet. Unbothered. Like none of this — not the games, the death, the blood — even scratched the surface.

People called Niragi a monster.

But you? You didn't have to be called anything.

You just watched. And people broke themselves trying to figure out whether you were going to save them or kill them.

That was the threat.

He first noticed you during a game of Spades. It was chaos — guns, knives, blood in the air. Niragi was having the time of his life until he realized you weren't playing like the rest of them.

You weren't reacting. You were studying.

Every scream. Every step. Every opening.

And then, you moved.

Three people went down before Niragi had even reloaded. No wasted energy. No hesitation. Just brutal, surgical violence. Not for show — for results.

After the game, you walked past him, blood-slicked and calm.

"You enjoy the performance," you said, not even looking at him. "I enjoy the outcome."

That pissed him off.

And intrigued him.

Because Niragi was used to fakers. People who acted wild but cracked under pressure. You weren't like them. You weren't like anyone.

He started testing you. Poking at your temper. Picking fights, pushing buttons.

You never reacted.

Until one night, after a game, when he finally got in your face — laughing, half-bloodied, cocky as ever.

"You think you're scarier than me?" he sneered. "Go on. Prove it."

You leaned in, your voice colder than death.

"I don't need to prove anything. You're still alive because I haven't decided what use you have yet."

Something about the way you said it — casual, bored, unbothered — made his spine go cold.

And that's when it hit him.

You didn't need rage. You didn't need theatrics.

You were dangerous in a way that didn't scream. You were the kind of threat that whispered — the kind that didn't blink when someone bled, because you'd already calculated who needed to die and who would do it for you.

After that, Niragi couldn't stop watching you.

He still threw chaos around like fire, still laughed when buildings burned. But when he caught your eye across the room, saw that sharp, quiet smirk on your lips… he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Not fear. Not exactly.

Respect.

Because you were the real monster.

And monsters, he realized, don't need to roar.

They just wait.

Last Boss

To Last Boss, his sword wasn't a weapon.

It was him.

An extension of every quiet scream inside his skull — his balance, his rhythm, his ritual. In a world that devoured the weak, his blade carved a place for him in blood and silence. No one touched it. No one could. His grip on it was second only to his grip on control.

So when he lost it mid-game — knocked from his hand in a flash of heat and screaming metal — he expected to die.

And maybe part of him welcomed it.

But then you moved.

You didn't hesitate. Didn't ask. Just picked it up.

His sword.

And wielded it like it had always belonged to you.

The group charging towards him didn't even see it coming. One step. One strike. Two bodies on the ground before the others could breathe.

He froze.

Not because you were saving him — but because of how you did it.

There was no rage. No fear. No wild swings.

You held the blade like it was a brush. And you painted the room in clean, efficient silence.

Better form. Cleaner movement. Not just faster than him.

Sharper.

After the game, the two of you stood in the dark, your breath still fogging the cold air.

You held his katana out to him — not ceremonially, but with a strange kind of finality.

"I cleaned it," you said simply.

He didn't take it.

He just stared at you.

"You've trained before," he murmured. "That wasn't luck."

You gave a ghost of a smile. "Didn't say it was."

He finally took the blade, fingers curling around it like he didn't recognize its weight anymore. Like it felt different now, after being in your hands.

"Where'd you learn?" he asked.

You shrugged. "Before this world, I fought because I had to."

"And now?"

You met his eyes — calm, steady, unreadable.

"Now I fight because we can't afford to lose."

That line shouldn't have hit him as hard as it did.

He was chaos. He was solitude. He'd never needed anyone.

But the truth buzzed beneath his skin like the hum of steel: in those moments, when you moved in front of him with his own sword… he'd never felt more exposed.

Or more safe.

Because if someone could take his weapon and fight better than he ever had… and choose to use it to protect him?

That was a power he couldn't laugh off or cut through.

That was trust.

And it terrified him.

Later that night, he sat beside you, cleaning the blade with slower hands than usual.

"I always thought this sword made me strong," he said, not looking at you.

You didn't respond right away. Then: "No sword makes you strong. But the right hands remind you what strength is."

He looked at you then — really looked.

And thought, maybe for the first time in his life:

He wanted to follow.

Chishiya

Chishiya didn't trust people.

He didn't need to. He played the long game, moving through the Borderlands like a ghost made of razor blades and smirks. Calculating. Detached. Always watching. Where others played emotionally, Chishiya played to win.

So imagine his surprise when he started losing.

Not in the obvious way — no. His games were flawless, his deductions sharp as ever.

But then you arrived.

You didn't try to outwit anyone. You just did. You didn't explain your plans, didn't monologue your motives. And that was the problem.

You didn't need the spotlight. You didn't even need credit.

All you needed was control — the kind no one noticed until it was far too late.

He first encountered you during a Diamonds game.

The kind that required not just intelligence, but the ability to manipulate a room full of liars. Chishiya had already pegged the players within the first ten minutes, sorted threats from deadweight, predicted their alliances.

And then you walked in — and did nothing.

You let them lie. Let them squabble. You didn't correct anyone.

Until one man accused you of sabotage.

And then you spoke. "I planted the seed in your head ten minutes ago. You just didn't notice because I made you think it was your idea."

The room went silent.

Even Chishiya raised an eyebrow.

He watched as the entire game collapsed, not from aggression — but from carefully laid traps, words wrapped in silk and sharpened steel.

You didn't win the game.

You orchestrated its collapse.

Afterwards, he approached you.

Calm. Curious. "You're... subtle," he said.

You looked at him, eyes like still water — deep, unreadable, cold. "And you're not used to being second."

That made him smile — the real kind. Rare. Dangerous.

Most people didn't see through Chishiya. You looked at him like you already had his blueprint. Like he was just another puzzle you'd already solved.

It was infuriating. It was fascinating.

It was… intoxicating.

From then on, Chishiya watched you like one might study a bomb: quiet, beautiful, and guaranteed to detonate under the right pressure. But no matter how he analyzed you, he kept coming up one step short.

You didn't react emotionally. You didn't get attached. You didn't even gloat when you won.

You were everything he thought he was — just quieter. Colder. More dangerous.

And the part that unnerved him most?

You saw through him.

Every deflection. Every little smile. Every cool, calculated move. You didn't fall for the act — you saw the machine underneath and didn't flinch.

"You're not curious about what I'm planning?" he asked one night.

You glanced at him, calmly sipping your drink. "You'll do what's necessary. So will I."

"You're confident."

"I'm correct."

And he had no rebuttal.

Because the truth was, you scared him — not because you were erratic, but because you weren't. You could burn down the world with the same steady hands you used to pour tea. Not out of spite. Not even boredom.

Just because it was the best move.

And he realized, for the first time… he was playing a game you started long ago.

Masterlist

[lj-lephemstar]

Progress Checkup! (Apr. 2025) | Scratchin' Melodii Devlog

Hey there! I felt like it was time for another devlog, it's been a little longer than usual I think. I felt it was less of a priority since I'd just shown off a gameplay preview, so my deepest apologies to all 7 dedicated devlog readers...

First off, in case you missed it, Lucid Mode was shown off in a recent gameplay preview of Stir & Mix!

During stages, freestyling well enough on two consecutive lines will allow you to ascend into Lucid Mode, a state where there are no charts or suggestions to follow, just your own freestyles! Successfully completing the stage in Lucid will give you a special ending scene and an emblem on your rank as lasting proof of your success.

To answer a few questions about it I've seen floating around:

Q: Does this mean the other parts of the song are gone? A: No, going Lucid is something that only happens if you manage to activate it yourself. Otherwise, the song continues as normal.

Q: Can it be disabled? A: Yep, if you're like really good at freestyling but still don't wanna ascend into Lucid, there will be a toggle in the Options menu to enable/disable the ability for it to activate.

Q: Can this happen in every stage? A: Probably! That's the plan, unless I find a rare reason it wouldn't work well for one.

In the preview, you can also see that Stir & Mix itself has been updated a bit in the vocal and artwork departments! Compared to the 2023 beta version's vocals, 2cada tuned them with a bit more stylization this time. In terms of artwork, the animations were redone in my current art style, as another step towards a consistent art style by release. In the process, I was able to make the animations much more fluid and expressive!

Little fun fact about that, Jamtine's hair actually used to cover up more of her eyes/eyebrows as if they were bangs of some sort, but I eventually moved it out the way so I could have more freedom with her expressions, which I found important for a character like her. An inverse of that philosophy would be Nami, who has her sunglasses and bangs cover up her eyes/eyebrows to give her a more mysterious feel. It's hard to tell what's going on in Nami's head! (If anything at all!)

Now, let's talk about the gameplay and UI again. Here's a little quickfire of some changes I've made: 

The Next Line Tab has a "NEXT" text sign above it and will stay at the end of the Player's line to help with clarity

 The background bar of each line now adjusts to the line's length to also help with visual clarity

When points are gained or deducted, it now briefly flashes over the score counter instead of having a separate bubble

Holding the button on pow notes instead of tapping them will accumulate extra points until you either release it or reach the max amount. The more buttons you manage to hold at once, the more points you'll get!

Landing notes on the later end of a beat marker without being off-beat can count as swing rhythm, adding extra points.

To account for the new score system and its balancing, you won't need the Perfect Bonus to be eligible for an S-rank anymore

Overall, I'd say the new rhythm/scoring system is much more consistent, balanced, forgiving, and accurate to the game's inspirations compared to how it was in the beta demos.

As for future stuff I'm working on, I've been animating the Boss battle for Act 2. Not much I can really say about it atm, but the song's going for an electro-funk style. Pretty happy with how it's been turning out so far!

I've also been redesigning the stage select screen to be easier to navigate and easier for me add more stages and acts to it. This one's able to just pull the needed information from each song/act and arrange it all accordingly instead of me having to manually do it each time I add something. It's still very much a work in progress, but it's functional! I haven't gotten to drawing McWave's new icons yet... (Don't look too deep into the number of acts here btw, it just stops at 3 because that's as far as I've indexed it at the moment!)

I've also started working on a redesign for the results screen. Since the new scoring doesn't have equal spaces between the rank requirements, I decided to replace the linear rank meter with a more dial-like one that goes through a cycle per each rank threshold you pass. Along with it, I'll have to finally make new results screen animations for Melodii at some point. Not sure yet if the pose Melodii's doing in this concept sketch will be what I end up using, but I definitely will be letting them aura farm more.

To save the most boring for last, optimization. For the notes in stages, I've started using a method called "Object Pooling". (Which I actually hadn't heard of until recently.) Basically, note objects get recycled now when possible​ instead of created/destroyed, which helps reduce memory usage. For materials, I've managed to up performance by using Texture Arrays and a pretty convoluted shader trick where I put the vertices of UV layers at specific coordinates, which are then decoded to be used as material info. (e.g. color, spec, emission) That way, more meshes can share materials while looking different instead of loading in separate ones. Not really sure how common this is, as I couldn't find much info on it, but it seems to be working pretty well so far! I was also able to cut performance costs in some areas by taking a screenshot of a background model and having the game render a flat image instead of the entire model. This works pretty well for shots where large background models are far away or when the camera angle stays static.

That's all for now! As always, thanks for reading.

-LJ

[sgiandubh]

Life and death of Anon

It's literally only hours after I stopped Anons from being pesky and nasty, that the number of sock accounts who suddenly wish to follow this page is over the roof.

It's literally only seconds after I wrote I will not allow any coward bullying in here anymore, that Anons started to pick on friendly shipper pages. Surely in the hope they will be given the oxygen they so sorely crave to reward a petty ego. Anons don't even make any cloak & dagger effort, anymore. Some righteous petticoats are showing aplenty: mannerisms, schmannerisms, heh. I could name names, even go ahead and prove that they almost copy and paste their own comments written elsewhere, but I won't. That would make them look important and possibly even brave, whereas I would look like the Bad Cop, something that never really interested me.

Come to think of it, there are roughly three main types of Anons who feel the urge to troll our pages:

The Simpleton: that particular Anon is almost always 'new in here' and seems to ask nonsensical questions, just for the sake of annoying the shite out of their hosts. They never see anything, never understand anything, but somehow their comments are always oriented towards a certain agenda. Makes you wonder, really.

The Weeping Statue: she has been a shipper since forever. She has patiently endured rough waters without capsizing and bravely weathered any storm. But right now, you see, ever since Orange Xena/Tennis Babe/German Athlete/Czech Young Woman came along, she just doesn't know anymore. She doesn't know what to think, she doesn't know what to say and she definitely has not the courage to post her rants on her own page. However, she still wants everyone to know she is petrified with grief and discombobulated. For one thing, she probably ceased to be a shipper (if ever) a very long time ago and this is just her indulging in her favorite pastime: being that fly in your ointment. I suggest you ignore: you are nobody's shrink, nor anyone's fool.

The Pennywise Clown: probably the worst type you could ever come across while in here and the unhinged variant of The Simpleton. But perfectly able and willing to send you violent bullshit like this one, with a noted propensity for long, verbose comments:

Received by me in December 2024, never answered. Would make a nice subpoena argument, anytime, anywhere. My crime? Refusing to bitch about the main cast and also being consistent and persistent about what are not just 'beliefs', but what I do consider as facts.

Mrs. It Pennywise went on and on and on with it for months, with very little variation in her nastiness and always at the ready to slap-a-shipper. I don't have the slightest wish to deal with Mrs. It Pennywise in court, because it would probably involve the Interpol, an international rogatory commission and lots of money I could use in more pleasantly creative ways. Only to probably uncover a provincial freak, with no sizable property to seize.

These idiots will always try too hard. Not only to make you seriously second guess your own deductive and even cognitive abilities, but even more so to curb your enthusiasm and anything positive about you being a shipper. For there are, overall, many positives in here, mark me: nice people, intelligent conversations, real empathy and kindness. If you feel you can take it, even when the heat hits too close to home, then you are certainly stronger and wiser than me. If not, my unsolicited advice is to make a very liberal use of the Block Anon button and ultimately get rid of this Tumblr setting altogether. Life will be calmer, for they are just a bunch of cowards hiding under a blade of grass. You don't have to answer every single idiocy that drops in your inbox. Also, you are the only one who has got the power to stop such in(s)anity. Tips and useful deductions almost never come that way, not anymore.

Let this be a cautionary tale. It's not because OL is slowly fading off, that the trolls suddenly deactivated. Far from it.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Concept:

Atsushi: Guys I think somethings wrong with Kunikida.

Yosano: Is that so?

She cracks her knuckles and gins manically.

Yosano: Point me to him Atsushi and I’ll have him back right as rain in no time.

Atsushi: Ah! Wait! No it’s not like that! I mean he seems okay physically but something seems off.

Yosano: Boo, okay so what’s up with him?

Atsushi: Well he was sorting out the cases for the week and he was humming to himself.

Yosano: He was?

Atsushi: Yeah and when I told him my report was gonna be a bit late he just smiled and patted me on the head.

Yosano: Huh, I can count the amount of times I’ve seen him smile on my hand.

Atsushi: Right? It’s weird right? I mean Dazai how many times as Kunikida yelled at you today?

Dazai: That’s easy Atsushi it was….

Dazai’s smile falls he frowns in confusion.

Dazai:…He hasn’t.

Yosano: Well what do you know Kunikida’s in a good mood.

She looks at Ranpo.

Yosano: You got any ideas as to why?

Ranpo: Oh so you’ve all finally noticed. It’s a mystery sure but is it really worth using my ability for?

Atsushi holds up a Ramune bottle.

Ranpo: Now we’re talking.

Ultra deduction activated

Ranpo: Oh…

Dazai: Oh?

Ranpo: Today’s the anniversary of the day Kunikida and the President met.

Yosano: Ah that’d do it.

Atsushi: So he’s okay?

Ranpo: More than okay. In fact if I had to guess I’d say they’re both going to head off early.

Dazai: Ah to the chess parlour to reenact their first game.

Ranpo: Exactly

Atsushi: So I guess we better do our work so they can leave on time.

Dazai sighs theatrically and Atsushi folds his arms and gives him a deadpan look.

Atsushi: Dazai.

Dazai throws his arms up in mock fear.

Dazai: Ahh! I better do my report before mini Kunikida scolds me for it.

Atsushi: Mini Kunikida???

Yosano: You heard him everyone hop to it.

[karvroom]

SECRET SANTA

hawks x reader

⟢ in which, your secret santa at the office takes it to a whole new level of gift giving. as an arising hero working under Hawks for guidance, you learn that work doesn’t have to be all dull and boring.

December 10th

“The jig is up. She totally knows it’s you.” Mirko chuckled at her feathered friend, showing no mercy in her mockery. Her legs swung as she sat on his desk, using her hands to prop herself up. “You know what she told me? “It’s only day 10–he’s not very slick”.”

Hawks watched as Mirko threw her head back in laughter. In all honesty, what did Hawks expect? You were the agency’s smartest player in the field—predicting every case’s outcome with spot on details that only the perpetrators could know. You were truly incredible.

“She does not.” Hawks rolled his eyes in disbelief at the statement, leaning back in his office chair with his hands behind his head as he closed his eyes, tilting his head up toward the ceiling. He was confident in his capabilities of sly work, until he began to think. Could you really have found out it was him? But, how? Hawks took all the precautions to an extreme extent when it came to the gift giving. The blonde opened one eye, looking to Mirko, “Does she really?”

In response, Mirko nodded her head, pushing herself office the side of Hawks’ desk and walking toward the exit. Hawks observed, waiting for a final word; anticipating a sly comment of some sort from her.

“(Y/N)’s excited for tomorrow.”

December 17th

Despite Hawks’ defeat to your deduction abilities, he continued leaving gifts at your desk every morning. Every gift became more elaborate: on day one, it was flowers (your favorite). Day five, a necklace. Day eleven, a basket of perfume and your favorite makeup brands. And finally, day seventeen, two tickets to your favorite band’s performance the upcoming week.

You and the winged hero sat across from one another as you aimlessly scrolled through work emails. It wasn’t unusual for you two to sit in silence while completing paperwork—it was a daily ritual for you at this point.

It was always Hawks going to your office, laptop in hand and a cheeky grin plastered across his face. He’d plop himself in the seat across from you at your desk, opening his laptop and start answering emails regarding interviews, hero work, etc.

When you came across an email reminding you of the concert, you remembered you still needed to take the time off. You slowly brought your laptop to a 45 degree, making eye contact with Hawks as you did so. “Hey, I’m going to put in a requ—“

“Already done. December 28th, right?”

Hawks couldn’t make it anymore obvious that it was him.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to hold back your all-knowing giggles from escaping. Though it was difficult with his golden eyes watching you, scanning you every once in a while. Anytime Hawks could, he’d take a gander of all of you; normally, eye contact wouldn’t be a difficult task for him, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help but allow his gaze to linger all over.

You had noticed and you liked it. You liked the attention. Usually, you wouldn’t care who looked at you in what way, but you made an effort to take mental notes of the way Hawks looked at you. His facial expressions, where his eyes wandered, his body language—it was all positive.

“Well, it’s more than that.” Hawks tilted his head in curiosity, prompting you to move forward with your thoughts. “I have two tickets—would you want to go with me?”

Hawks cleared his throat and nearly choked, surprised by the generous offer. After all, he had gotten those tickets for you and someone you wanted to bring along, but he didn’t expect that someone to be him. Had he thought of the scenario in his head? Seeing you all dolled up in your outside-of-work attire—he had dreams about it. If you were a sight for sore eyes now, he couldn’t imagine how he would feel outside of the work space.

“I’ll think about it.” The blonde declared, attempting to fool you with a playing-hard-to-get facade. Hawks couldn’t allow himself to seem too eager to go on an outing with you.

He had imagined this thousands of times. A life with you outside of work—as creepy as it sounds, he thought it was more bittersweet. His imagination didn’t run too wild, just a string of dates and whatnot.

“Think I can get an answer by Christmas?” You asked, shutting your laptop completely as you sunk into your rolling chair comfortably.

Hawks copied your movement, closing his computer and stretching his arms high above his head. The bottom of his shirt lifted slightly, giving you a glimpse of his abs beneath his compression shirt. He took note of your staring.

“So demanding.” The hero slumped in the chair, leaning back into the cushioned seat. Hawks’ playful tone filled the atmosphere, “Since when were you the boss lady?”

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest, “Since I have to work on Christmas all because of your doing. The least you can do is give me an answer in advance.”

Unfortunately, you were scheduled to go assess prisoners on Christmas day when you could’ve been at home relaxing.

“Oh, come on, it won’t be that bad. Plus, you get to see me.” Hawks spoke, a sly smile accompanying his words.

“Yeah, you and mind numbing criminals. My favorite combination.” You rolled your eyes, averting your gaze to the deep blue night sky outside your window, dotted with white specks that were nearly invisible by the city’s light pollution.

Hawks could sense your frustration behind the humorous comments you were making. He felt a tinge in his chest, feeling guilty for your emotions.

“Why don’t I take you out to dinner after work on Christmas, then? Will that make up for it?”

Your eyes widened at the peculiar offer. The foreign invite from Hawks sparked something in you. Flattery? Curiosity? Whatever it was, it made the little voice in the back of your head gnaw at you, telling you to do it. Wouldn’t it be unprofessional of you? What would his bosses say? Inviting an employee to a non-work related event.

Hawks couldn’t read your mind, but he could read your expression pretty well. He could tell you were shocked by the personal request. To be quite honest, he liked that. Hawks liked the spontaneous factors played into his life, and you happened to be one of them.

The higher ups suddenly alerted him of a new hiree he would be receiving at his agency. “Great,” was all he could think of with an eye roll. Hawks was never one for teaching others. Whenever he hired someone, he made sure that they were capable of all tasks he asked of them—he was strict on that policy. Part of it was because he had no time for it, but the other half was his impatience.

However, when he first met you, he didn’t feel impatient or frustrated with your work ethic. In fact, he was afraid to admit you worked harder and faster than him. That’s why Hawks was so infatuated with you. You went at his exact pace—which was never matched by anyone ever.

“Dinner and milkshakes.” You added, only agreeing to going out with him if a sweet treat was added in.

Hawks chuckled, “Alright, now you’re milking it.”

You looked at him with a serious expression, an awful attempt to state your point. Hawks eventually gave in from just seeing you and your poor attitude.

“Fine.” Hawks stood from his chair, towering over your desk. You found it intimidating, but in a way that you were encaptured by his essence.

You couldn’t care less about your small victory at the moment, you were more focused on maintaining eye contact with the man. You could feel your breathing become more erratic the longer you stared. He was making you nervous.

Hawks had to hold himself back from you. He was afraid to keep eye contact, but failed to look away anytime his brain signaled him to. The heaviness in the room remained at a standstill still. There had always been tension between you two. Ever since you started working at the agency; though you innocently thought it was the work environment. It was different, this strain was thick.

The intimacy was finally cut once there was a knock at your office door. You quickly straightened up in your chair while Hawks returned to his laid-back self.

“So dinner and milkshakes?” You asked, looking between Hawks and the door before finally settling your gaze on the man in front of you. He nodded in response, to which you responded, “Great.”

As Hawks turned toward the door, he spoke over his shoulder, something you could barely hear. However, the message was loud and clear in your head as to what Hawks wanted out of this partnership.

“It’s a date.”

═════════════

a/n: hi, happy holidays everyone !! it’s been awhile, but i had a post idea and basically did a word vomite here and this is what i came up with. if you guys want a part 2 let me know !!

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: this just might be the steamiest thing I’ve written since I was a 14 year old on wattpad doing god’s work. anyway, merry christmas sluts x

warnings: suggestive but not outright smut, use of petnames, soft!dom Spencer

Orbit

Prison can have longterm effects on a person, regardless of the duration of time spent behind bars. If you were to ask Spencer Reid what aspect of him was impacted most greatly by his sentence, he would tell you it was his brain; more specifically, his ability to think. Now, he finds himself taking 60 minutes to make deductions that previously would have taken him 60 seconds. Time spent locked in a cage has left his mind feeling like it never left; his skull no longer feels metaphorically big enough for him to organize his thoughts, separate them for long enough to distinguish them. The incredibly open mind that Spencer has always had is most often a jumbled, frustrating mess, which only exacerbates the frustration already found there. That is, until you enter a room.

He hasn’t said it to you explicitly, but if anyone asked, Spencer would be unable to deny your innate ability to help him. It’s almost poetic, the way he views you, like you’re the moon to his planet of thoughts; you calm his tides simply by being in his orbit. By existing in his space, you soothe his mind enough to just think, and he’s incapable of ever taking that for granted.

While he can’t spell that out to you without risking mortification over your natural assistance to him with a brain function that should come naturally to him, you are a qualified profiler who has come to understand - in your own way - that Spencer just needs to be around you, sometimes. And he acknowledges that you have an understanding of this, of course. So, when there’s a knock at your hotel room door at 2am, and you scramble out of bed, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and running to the door to find him standing on your doorstep, the surprise that flashes across both of your faces is not something Spencer had predicted.

You are surprised because you can’t help wondering if your thoughts inadvertently summoned Spencer to your doorstep, still wearing his button-up shirt, tie and suit pants that you’d seen him in when working the case together today. On the other hand, Spencer is surprised to find you standing before him wearing nothing more than an oversized t-shirt, from what he can see, alongside the visible signs of you appearing to be…flustered? Your chest rises and falls with heavy pants, your cheeks are flushed, and your pupils are dilated in a way that perhaps only Spencer would notice, but he most definitely notices.

“Spencer! Wh- Come in!” You stumble over your own words, stepping aside to grant him passage into your hotel room.

He strides past you, a firm frown etched on his face. He had thoughts he needed to organize, hence his untimely arrival, but now you have presented him with an entirely new enigma that is his personal mission to crack.

Spencer takes a seat on an armchair in the corner of your hotel room, while you sit on the edge of the bed, notably turned almost completely away from him while you fight to regain some composure; a futile effort, because Spencer has already ruled out exercise (determining you wouldn’t be exercising at this hour or in this room), stress (because he’d have picked up on an irregularity when working alongside you at some point today), and a medical issue (much to your own present demise, you default to him for any questions regarding your health because you trust his expertise) as probable causes, which leads him to a particularly interesting conclusion, in two seconds flat.

“Is everything…okay?” You manage to ask him, and it’s as though you added that shy inflection to your voice just to tick another box on the list in Spencer’s mind, confirming his previous hypothesis without ever intending to.

“Yes, I just needed to think.” What he previously thought he needed to think about is entirely irrelevant now, but he digresses. “Are you…okay?” Spencer returns your question with the same wording, but without the shyness you so graciously included. He’s still making deductions, because he can’t risk acting on his current conclusion until he knows it to be true beyond reasonable doubt.

“Me? Oh, yeah! I’m fine!” You laugh lightly.

Overcompensating, Spencer makes a mental note, ticking another box on the list found in his mind.

A silence settles between you, one that he enforces with purpose. From where he sits in the corner of the room, he watches you like you’re the most fascinating study in human history. Which, he would argue, you are. The way you squirm, aware of Spencer’s gaze on you despite not even looking at him, has him fighting a smirk. There’s a shared awareness in the silence, an acknowledgement of the fact that you and your…chosen activities, are completely exposed to him in this moment, and he’s letting you simmer in that reality for a moment, allowing you time to adjust to that.

The next words Spencer speaks are very carefully chosen, and in that, they knock the air from your lungs.

“What were you thinking about?” The subtext is so clear he could have left the guise of a question out entirely, but there’s an air of respect in that he elects to ignore the access he has to completely embarrassing you. His voice is too quiet for anyone in the next rooms to overhear, so his respectfully tame phrasing is for your benefit, alone, but the answer he’s searching for is clear.

You swallow, hard.

There is no use in lying, not to a man currently counting the microseconds between every breath you take to accurately profile your body’s responses to this interrogation.

“You.”

And never before has Doctor Spencer Reid had a single word eradicate all 187 of his IQ points. It’s as though he can feel them stacking themselves back up in his brain in a frantic, trembling mess. Obviously, that was the answer he had hoped for, but to actually hear you say it goes far beyond any ability he has to accurately predict his own response, particularly when you spoke with a submissive tone that was not possible for him to miss.

5.7 seconds later, when Spencer has regained control over his motor functions, he clears his throat, grateful that you aren’t looking at him to have seen him lose his own composure momentarily.

“Is this the first time you’ve thought of me outside of a professional capacity?” And the award for least seductive means of phrasing an otherwise very erotic question goes to…

In Spencer’s defense, it is much easier for him to speak so formally and from a more analytical standpoint. If he lets his emotions take hold now, he may miss a piece of information from you that could be crucial to maximizing this opportunity for you both.

“No.” You answer, your voice more timid now, barely above a whisper.

In your defense, you wouldn’t even regard it as thinking of Spencer ‘outside of a professional capacity’, because you have a running hypothesis that he’d be a professional in that area of life, too.

Still, Spencer hears the anxiety building in your words - or lack thereof - and what they confess to him. The last thing he wants is to overwhelm you. At least, not like this.

Rising from the armchair he’d been occupying, he takes the few strides necessary to stand in front of you, towering over you while you remain sitting on the edge of the bed, your head hanging in shame.

“How many times?” Spencer’s voice is also quieter now, softer, but it’s far from timid. He’s being gentle with you, but his question is a demand for an answer.

You shrug without meeting his gaze, and Spencer raises an eyebrow down at you.

“Words, baby.”

And those two words are enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

“I-I don’t know, haven’t kept count.” You stammer, heart spluttering in your chest.

“Let me do the math for you, then.” Spencer muses, tucking his hands into his pockets as he observes you with a soft smile and darkened eyes. “When was the first time?”

You gulp.

“Do I have to ask for your words again?” That’s a warning.

“N-No, I’m just trying to think.” You try to defend yourself, your face feeling hot.

“You don’t need to do any thinking right now, baby, that’s my job.” Spencer soothes you. “Was it during your first week with the BAU?” He questions softly.

“…Yes.”

And that ignites Spencer’s synapses.

“From your first day, we were sent on a case that we worked tirelessly on. The first night was spent on the jet, second night you were so exhausted you slept on a couch in the office while I carried on working, third night I had to wake you in your hotel room at 3am due to a development on the case and I could tell you were in REM sleep by then, so you wouldn’t have had time that night, either. That means it was either the fourth night after we met, in your hotel room, or the fifth night after we arrived back home. Do you remember which?” Spencer asks gently, this time crouching down to be eye-level with you, looking at you with what you can only describe as puppy-dog eyes.

“…In the hotel.” You admit bashfully, meeting Spencer’s gaze for just long enough to see a flicker of his resolve crumbling.

You couldn’t even wait until you got back home? Bad girl. But he’ll keep such a notion to himself, for now.

“That’s good, thank you for telling me,” He praises instead, tucking your hair behind your ears from where he crouches in front of you, while you remain seated on the edge of the bed. “And since then, would you say it’s been once a week, or more?”

Your eyebrows furrow at this question, and Spencer is quick to amend it.

“Do those choices for answers not suit you, sweet girl?” He coo’s, watching you fall into a submissive headspace like it’s second nature for you.

“No…Once a week, but not just…one time.” You struggle to say, your voice sounding small, but you’re melting into the sensation of Spencer’s fingertips dancing over your cheek.

“I see,” He muses, trying his best not to reveal the fact that his brain is short circuiting over that information. See? Imagine if he’d rushed into this and missed out on hearing you admit that! He’d have rather been shot. Again.

“How many times is it usually?” This question has piqued Spencer’s interest more than he cares to admit, but he conceals that well.

“…Three.” You breathe.

“And how many times tonight?” His own voice is a whisper now, his fingertips trailing down your neck.

“Two,” You begin to say, and Spencer’s mind is already sounding like a casino with every machine hitting a jackpot in unison, before you add. “…and a half.”

It takes Spencer a solid second, and a second of being solid, to process that.

“I interrupted you?” There’s a huskiness to his voice that was not there before, and when you nod, he clears his throat. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Can I make it up to you?” And while he stands back up to his full height to lean over you, you instinctively fall back against the bed in what appears to be a practiced mating dance between you, despite it being the very first time.

“Can I?” It’s only when Spencer repeats his question that you realize you are yet to respond. In your defense, you had forgotten your own name because of the hazel in his eyes.

“Yes.” No sooner has the breathy word passed your lips, than his lips descended on the side of your neck.

Spencer’s stubble maps a trail down your throat, gently scratching at the skin while his lips leave tingling kisses in his wake. But if you think Spencer Reid’s mind has stopped working just yet, you are sorely mistaken.

“You said usually around three, implying that is your minimum,” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, his lips nipping at the shell of your ear. “-so that’s a minimum of three orgasms a week for the twenty weeks since we met, that’s a total of 60, but we should leave room for anomalies, so let’s round that up to 70, just to be as accurate as possible.” Spencer murmurs. “Is it always me you think of?” He’s incapable of masking the hope found in his own voice.

You nod frantically.

“Words, baby.” This time, that reminder is punctuated by a soft bite to your neck.

“Y-Yes, you, always you, every time.” You shudder. And who can blame you, when you’ve always known him to be capable of this?

“So I’m responsible for approximately 70 of your orgasms, without ever having touched you.” Spencer almost can’t believe it, but he can hear how smug he is in his own ears.

One of his hands presses into the sheets beside your head, holding himself up, but his other hand squeezes at your waist through the fabric of your oversized shirt, and he groans into the crook of your neck in approval.

“So soft.” He praises, wanting nothing more than to worship at the altar that is you.

Spencer’s fingertips trace the hem of your oversized shirt, the warm skin of your thighs tempting him beyond his previous ability to comprehend.

“May I?” He requests, ever the gentleman.

“Please.” You answer with the best synonym for ‘yes’ in this context that Spencer could have hoped for.

And he doesn’t hesitate. Long fingers slowly raise the hem of your shirt, bringing it up until it’s just above your belly button, and he lays his palm flat against your stomach, the skin fluttering under his touch. While his lips continue to lavish your neck, collarbone and ear, his free hand descends to the band of your panties, but doesn’t slip beneath it. A whine passes your lips when his hand continues its path south, and you feel him smirk against your neck, until his own breathing shudders.

“Oh, baby…” He groans, having never been more thrilled to feel a soaked piece of fabric in his life. “Look at you, look at the mess you’ve made of yourself. Poor little love.” Spencer coo’s.

But when you shake your head, he halts his movements completely.

“What is it, baby? You want to stop? That’s okay.” He immediately falls into a softness intended to comfort you, not wanting you to feel even remotely uncomfortable or upset. His kisses move to your cheek, each one an act of devotion. “It’s okay. Being in a submissive headspace can be incredibly overwhelming at times, and you can always tell me if it does. We don’t ever have to do anything that you don’t want to do, sweet girl. In fact-“

It’s only when you turn your head to meet Spencer’s lips with your own, that you manage to stop his ramble and his entire train of thought.

“It’s not that.” You’re quick to reassure him, not wanting him to overthink about having breached your boundaries.

“Then…what?” Spencer asks, looking into your eyes with the most sincere concern.

“I just wanted to correct you, because I didn’t make a mess of myself. You made a mess of me.” You smile up at him, and the sweetness with which you say something so sinful is enough to make Spencer’s heart drop right out of his chest.

In all his years, he has never understood the sensation of blood rushing away from his brain, more than he does right now.

His gaze softens with both relief and arousal, a sigh passing his lips that evolves into a light chuckle, before his lips fall to yours again, meeting you in a heated kiss. And when Spencer’s hand continues its previous path, he feels your thighs part, and a growl of some description rumbles in his throat.

“That’s my girl.”

That possessive title causes a delighted shudder to rock through you, which Spencer makes a prominent mental note of.

“70’s the number to beat.” He whispers in your ear seductively, and your jaw falls open.

“In one night?!” It’s more of a squeak than a question, but it makes Spencer laugh into the crook of your neck as his lips descend it.

“As much as I’d love to ruin your body for anyone other than me, I think that just might ruin you entirely, which isn’t my aim. But…” He bites at your neck. “I can promise you, you’re getting more than three.”

From where you lie, you can feel something pressing against your thigh that tells you it’s going to be a very, very long night.

[flightfoot]

Top Ten Completed Miraculous Fics Of 2024

So here it is, my top ten list for the year. I'm gonna be adding this as a bookmark subcollection inside of the full collection. That way, people will still be able to see which fics I recommend most highly for the year, even if they can't find this particular tumblr post.

I've got a real range in popularity here. The most popular fic has over 2000 kudos, while the least popular hasn't even hit 20 yet, at the time of my writing this. Just goes to show that popularity doesn't necessarily track with quality, especially for fics that have more niche appeal to begin with.

All of these are over 40K this time. Longer fics just have more going on, so they dominate lists like this. Which is one reason I have the regular lists that are separated by wordcount, to let fics of every length have a chance to shine.

A lot of the lower entries here bounced around in placement. The top five remained pretty stable though, once entered.

Here's the subcollection I set up for them!

10.

Each Hum And Click by @echo-has-queries

Kagami thought her understandably high standards for a match in marriage would mean she could avoid being paired with a man by her mother. That she could keep perfecting her flying-machine skills and eventually take over her mother’s place in leading the Tsurugi steam engine manufacturing company without having to defer to a man. She would have thought that when her mother told her to test the Agreste boy as a marriage match she had been kidding - if her mother ever kid. But she was serious and there truly was no fault to be found with Gabriel Agreste's son - except for the small detail of course, that he was not human. So Kagami must turn to the only fine mechanic she knows in Paris to find a solution to this new dilemma. But perhaps the dilemma could turn out to be the solution itself. Written for the AU Roulette Challenge 2024 with the prompt: Steampunk AU

So this fic is entirely from Kagami's POV, and it is a treat! It's an Adrigaminette fic, which you slowly figure out from reading the fic, if you didn't check the tags - Kagami may have tried not to like Adrien, but he grew on her regardless, and then a few chapters in you find out about hers and Marinette's failed relationship. I loved slowly finding out why the two of them broke up, when there are clearly still strong feelings between them, and how it ties into Kagami's character arc and the overall themes of the story: standing up for yourself, breaking free from those who would control you, and forging your own path.

---

9.

Do You Read Me? by @19thsentry-blog

The problem with being a Couffaine was the hereditary bits. The stubbornness. The weird need to pick a fight with authority for no reason besides the principle of it. The way being a Couffaine meant falling in love, fast as a car crash, and just as deadly. It ruined you forever.

So basically, this takes place a few years after Season 5, in the post-Wish world. Luka takes over as the Ladybug Holder, battling Chrysalis in Marinette's place. It's causing him some strain, since it's hard to hold down a job when you need to vanish randomly for long periods of time while on the clock, and it doesn't help that Chrysalis is a lot sneakier than Monarch was.

That's not the core of the story though. No, the real story starts up at chapter 3, when Luka suddenly wakes up in 19th century London, supposedly having always been there, and talking to a 19th century version of Max. From there, he soon gets escorted to Felix, who is a detective around those parts and agrees to host him for awhile.

This is a Sherlock Holmes inspired story, with the setting ripped straight out of those old stories, and I think it does a great job of that! Felix feels natural as Sherlock, with his deductive abilities, and the mystery really does read a lot like a Sherlock story. Though of course, the ultimate cause is more magical in nature.

I love Luka's perspective in this story and his and Felix's dynamic, it just feels very natural and well done!

I was satisfied with how the mystery wrapped up, 19thsentry did a good job of making things make sense at the end, and it felt satisfying. If you want a story with some great characterization for Luka or Felix, or just feel like a mystery, this is the story for you!

8.

A Breach In The Brooch by @piromina

Ladybug and Chat Noir are the heroes of Paris. Hawkmoth is Chat Noir's father. Chat Noir is aware of this. Hawkmoth is not.

So this is an interesting spin on the classic "Gabriel recruits Adrien early on to help him" plotline. Mostly because Adrien is still Chat Noir in this AND still helping Ladybug as a superhero - Gabriel has no clue about his secret identity.

Plagg, unsurprisingly, isn't thrilled about Adrien refusing to tell Ladybug what he knows about Hawkmoth's identity, and that Adrien keeps following Gabriel's orders, even when he knows they're wrong. Though he figures out before Adrien does that Adrien's compulsion to follow his father's orders isn't just a psychological thing...

I really love Plagg in this especially, he's the MVP. He knows what it's like to be compelled to do or not to do certain things, so he's good at comforting Adrien over it and at finding loopholes for him.

---

7.

Phantom Pains (and other hints of you) by @buggachat

She couldn't remember anything. Not where she was going, where she'd been, why she was in this stairwell, or even her own name. But as she watched the blood pool at the base of the steps, she at least knew one thing for certain: the corpse was hers. Getting used to being dead was going to have its growing pains. — “Well, unlucky lady,” Chat Noir greeted with a bow, “Can I get your name?” “Didn’t we just talk about this? I told you, I don’t remember it.” “And I told you,” he reminded, “that you can just pick whatever fits you best.” — Ladybug and Chat Noir may not remember who they once were, but at least the two lost souls can find comfort in each other's company. But as Ladybug starts uncovering more and more memories of her life, letting the past go doesn't seem as easy as Chat Noir claims it to be.

So this is a beautiful, sweet, tragic love story of two lost souls wandering around with each other, yet with Ladybug still desperately wanting to be found, to remember who she was - and wanting to know why Chat so adamantly wanted to stay amnesiac. It's got some neat worldbuilding, and some fantastic prose. It's just a really nice little story!

---

6.

A Small but Stubborn Fire by @cardiac-agreste

What if you were the parent of a teenage superhero, but didn't know they were? All you know is the nightmares, the panic attacks, and the bruises. She's missing school, she's disappearing on you, and she's not telling you anything. So you assume the worst: Assault. Depression. A permanent rift in the family. And what do you do when you realize you weren't thinking dark enough? Because your fourteen-year old daughter is the hero who flirts with death on the nightly news. -- Come inside and read about one mother's struggles to raise her daughter in a dangerous world while avoiding the mistakes her own mother made with her.

This is a more serious take on the consequences of Hawk Moth's war on Paris, with actual bloody, painful deaths as a consequence of many akumas, and Parisians developing PTSD because of what they've gone through. Ladybug can fix all the physical scars, but not the mental ones, including her own.

I love the focus on Sabine here. She's not just presented as being a mom - though of course that IS an important role she has. But she's explored as a character in her own right, one with a lot of emotional baggage as a result of her abusive mother, and trying to not fall into her mistakes, but sometimes doing so anyway out of fear for Marinette's safety. She's a really fleshed out, humanly flawed character, sometimes admitting that she would do something selfish if it means protecting the people she cares most about, like her daughter, even if its at others expense. She grows and changes a lot throughout the course of the story, her perspective on many matters changing multiple times as a result of getting new information or seeing the consequences of her previous approaches, and adjusting as a result.

If you want a fic that more realistically explores the dark consequences of Miraculous's setting, that fleshes out Sabine, or just develops a character in a complex way, then I highly recommend you check "A Small but Stubborn Fire" out!

---

5.

Finding A Way by @uptoolateart

Collège is nearly over! And what better way to celebrate than a class trip to Costa Rica? But with only a month left to tell Adrien she loves him, Marinette is feeling the pressure. Then – an accident at sea leaves them stranded together on a tropical island…alone. Or are they? Because those footprints in the sand don’t resemble any bird they’ve seen before. And what’s that roaring sound coming from the jungle? ‘Adrien…where ARE we??’ ***** A Jurassic Park / Camp Cretaceous AU that’s been kicking around in my head for over a year

I love the sense of danger permeating this fic, it really feels like Adrien and Marinette are stranded on Jurassic Park (well it's called something else in order to integrate it better into the ML universe, but it operates like Jurassic Park). They're making the best of it though, doing their best to survive - and along the way, getting closer together.

I like that it's not JUST them though, Gabriel and Nathalie find out where they ended up pretty early on and go to rescue them, with Alya and Nino stowing away. It was cool to see that side of things as well.

Oh yeah, this fic is rated M for violence and gore. It's because dinosaurs eat people alive and leave their body parts everywhere. If you can handle the Jurassic Park movie (or presumably the book the movie was based on, but I haven't read that), then you should be just fine.

---

4.

Boulangerella by @aidanchaser

Once upon a time, magic was wild. The two princes of the kingdom have been tasked with choosing their brides by the end of their 21st birthday celebrations. Crown Prince Adrien Agreste will have to choose between a woman who can protect his kingdom, a woman offering the power to wake his sleeping mother, and the woman he has loved and admired for the past year. Then there's also the seamstress that he is suddenly falling for. By the time he realizes he doesn't have the power to choose at all, it may be too late.

I love a good fairy tale AU, and this is no exception. Aidanchaser started writing it before Season 5 came out, so it's wrong about some things. Most notably, Felix's posthumous father was a good and decent person here, and one of the twin rings is Felix's Amok while the other one is Adrien's Amok, instead of both of them being Adrien's Amok.

This was a well-crafted tale, with kwamis operating as Fae: they can give power, but only if the wielder gives something up to pay for it. For temporary usage of their power, it can be something small and innocuous, such as giving Plagg cheese in exchange for his help. More expansive uses of their power requires greater sacrifices however, even sacrificing more nebulous things such as memories or hope.

The kingdom's currently being terrorized by this unknown villain, Hawk Moth, as in the show. Ladybug and Chat Noir emerge to battle him, but for some reason (*cough, cough*), King Gabriel isn't fond of the superheroes and wants them captured.

Gabriel isn't the only threat out there, Lila's skulking around, hinting that she knows how to wake up Emilie from her mysterious illness, if only Adrien marries her. And she's not about to take no for an answer.

If you've been wanting a fairy tale/fantasy Miraculous AU, I recommend giving Boulangerella a shot!

---

3.

He Couldn't Remember (Falling For Her) by @purpleautumnvision

"If I was given a choice in who Chat Noir would be, I would've chosen you." "And there's nobody else in the whole world I'd rather have as my little bug." Without secret identities in the way, Marinette and Adrien get to live out their love story and put their heads together to discover the identity of Hawk Moth... but an unforeseen twist puts the Miraculouses in Gabriel's hands. When he makes his wish for a world where his wife never became sick from using the broken Peacock Miraculous, the universe requires someone else to become sick in order to maintain balance. Who better than his greatest enemy, Ladybug herself? Adrien, with his memories rewritten by the wish, wakes up in a world without superheroes, without Hawk Moth, without Marinette, without friends, and without a clue as to why everything feels so wrong. Something's missing, but he's gonna find out what. Then he'll put his world back into place.

So this was a fascinating scenario, with Adrien waking up in a world where Marinette was dead while his mother was alive, a world that as far as he knew had always been the case... but having weird feelings he can't explain. And not just him, I love how much focus Alya gets here as well! Turns out that the memories are kind of hidden, but still present, and since Adrien and Alya never got to meet Marinette in this universe (she died just before the new school year began, at the same time that Emilie did in the normal universe) AND Adrien and Alya were her closest friends in the previous universe, their feelings towards her are closest to the surface and least impacted by the memories from this universe.

The other people in this universe... well, the class isn't taking Marinette's death well. It's fascinating to see just how much her death effects them, to see how it haunts them, and I loved seeing their reactions to Adrien's weird behavior about their dead classmate who he never got a chance to meet, it shows how strange some of this can look to the outside, and it doesn't help that these are grieving kids.

Just... this is a great fic, I highly recommend checking it out!

---

2.

Symbiotic Whiskers by B1ackout

Adrien Agreste aka Cat Noir was given the cat ring miraculous to help Ladybug in protecting Paris. But something had found him first, a silent companion that granted him strength and power he never knew existed. Bonded with a symbiote, Cat Noir faces Paris alongside Ladybug without even knowing that someone left a magical ring in his room. (Canon Divergence)

This is a phenomenal fic that deserves more attention. It's kind of funny how he just goes "hey I've got superpowers, she says that the thing we have that gives superpowers is called the Black Cat Miraculous and that the being that gives them is called a kwami, obviously that must be what I have!" though that gets stretched more and more as Adrien's experiences with the symbiote contradict what he's heard about how kwamis work, and Tikki gets increasingly worried about "Plagg's" weird behavior. It's a dark, somewhat brutal fic (people die permanently, and they're not always villains), and it's absolutely worth a read, this is an excellent crossover!

1.

Withered Wings by @11jj11

Nino wasn’t sure if anyone had ever willingly took the akuma butterfly before him, but with his mind completely open to this apparent son of Hawk Moth he knew that he couldn’t turn him away. Not someone that was so afraid, not someone who would be left at the mercy of Hawk Moth.

This fic is amazing! Just... some absolutely stellar Adrino, with some nice Alyanette on the side, AND it's one of the best Enemies AU (well, sort of. Adrien's on Hawkmoth's side, but Nino isn't, exactly), in the fandom! I love how much we get of Nino's perspective, his determination to save this boy who's been thrown into these battles, who clearly doesn't want to hurt people but is compelled to do so, while balancing it with trying to prevent damage to anyone else as well. He has to be the one to look after Adrien, because no one else will do so.

I also love the focus Alya gets here, as Marinette's partner. She does an amazing job in the role, with every Miraculous she gets, even though she isn't a perfect wielder.

That's something else, I like the bits of worldbuilding this adds in, with people who fully embody the aspect a kwami represents being able to transform more fully. That does not mean, however, that an imperfect match is a bad thing, the kwami and wielder can still be very strong together and get along well, even if they don't perfectly align.

I adore how Nino had to balance his roles in this, helping Adrien without hurting others, even fighting back against the heroes as needed, as much as he didn't want to. And how understanding people were when they found out the full story of what was going on. It's a truly fantastic story that anyone who likes Enemies AU, Adrino, or just want to read a good Miraculous fic should check out.

I do want to warn that Gabriel and Nathalie are significantly OOC in this. Gabriel's even more abusive and colder than he is in canon, and Nathalie is WAY worse. This fic started before season 5, so it wasn't known what Nathalie's red line would be. As a result, Adrien's more downtrodden than he is in canon, since the consequences of disobedience are worse than being cut off from friends, or even being made to sit in a blank white room indefinitely.

[onekeii]

The World's Greatest Poker Player

Day 4: Playing board games | "I have no regrets." Bungou Stray Dogs: Ranpo Edogawa x Fem!Reader Warnings/Genre: fluff, suggestive but no smut, not proof read Word count: 1,152 Summary: Ranpo’s Ultra Deduction and your reality altering luck ability go head to head. AN: whether or not the twist towards the end is real, or ranpo allows it, is up to you. p.s. the flop, the turn, and the river refer to stages of a poker game

Read on AO3

With so many people working at the Agency now, the boss greenlit the idea to host a Christmas party in the office. After all, what else was a gang of stray dogs going to do, with nowhere to go, on Christmas Day?

Each desk was set with a different board or card game - Monopoly, Uno!, Catan, Cluedo… There would have been space for Scrabble, but Kunikida insisted his desk was not to be touched. He did not leave its side all night, watching innocent bystanders from behind his misted glasses. 

You tried each of the games once, but strategy wasn’t your strong suit. You won one game of Uno! and lost at all the other board games - the ones where luck was not the only important factor in winning. Heavily, you fall into one of the couches in the corner, letting yourself sink far into its worn cushions. Dazai was watching from the opposite couch with an unreadable expression.

He throws a standard pack of playing cards on the table between you. That would have been enough to convince you, but of course, this was Dazai. Sparks were practically shooting from his head, “I’ve always wondered - can you beat The World’s Greatest Detective, bella?”

With a tut and a flick of your hair, you stride over to your colleagues playing Scrabble at your desk, and motion for them to move to the floor. Atsushi was not going to say no to you. With their tiles carefully replicated in the middle of the office’s green-tiled floor, you pull the poker set out of your top drawer - the one Dazai took the cards from. 

The World’s Greatest Detective, aka Edogawa Ranpo, needed no convincing from Dazai, he sat at the other side of your desk in an instant, his eyes following your nimble hand movements as you distributed the poker chips between you evenly. “Does anybody else want to join?” You called out to the rest of the room. They all shook their heads; now was the time to watch. Even you didn’t know what would happen - you wondered if Ranpo did?

Your special ability was Good Luck. It didn’t always work in the way you wanted, but it got you to where you were today. Before joining the agency, you had made a living in casinos and then by playing poker professionally. Not once, in your life, have you ever lost a game. But facing off against the world’s smartest man (sorry, detective) left you stiff in your chair. He can’t read minds or break through poker faces, but he was your boyfriend too - he knew every single face you could make like the back of his hand. Chances are that your luck, your reality-altering ability, may not save you this time. Not against the talented Ranpo. 

Twice! He’s beaten you twice now! Your chips dwindle - they’ve never done that before. Ranpo guards them nonchalantly, waving a lollipop around as he talks, “The World’s Greatest Detective really is unbeatable, huh?” he pops the sweet back into his mouth. One more time, you can’t walk away from this a total loser.

Yosano collects the cards and begins shuffling them, weaving them elegantly between her fingers. You close your eyes and exhale, turn it off, the sound of the cards slapping against each other is like music to your ears, give me something terrible. The last, and only, time you ever turned your luck off truly was terrible. Fukuzawa restrained it in you, a poor attempt to stop you from ‘swindling’ patrons at casinos. “It’s unbecoming of a future detective,” he’d said. 

Well, you got it back two days later. Only because it became evident that you couldn’t live without it - a close call with the stairs, the lift, a car on the street. It was more trouble than it was worth, as you weren’t even able to leave the agency office - or indeed stay inside it - unharmed. 

But this would be worth it, you decided, and Ranpo wouldn’t see it coming. Fukuzawa’s theory that it helped you function was being proven once again, for you cut yourself on your cards as you picked them up and you bruised your knee on the underside of the table in your excitement. You couldn’t be unluckier. A black two, a red three. There’s no way a sane person could win with this hand. Straight lipped and dead-eyed, you stare at Ranpo over your cards. 

The flop. Both you and Ranpo are confident, you raise the bet and he matches. The turn. He hesitates when you raise your bet by a substantial amount, but pushes the same number of chips in anyway, “Call,” he mumbles.

The river. “All in,” your excitement is beating through your chest, you swallow the smile crawling onto your face. Ranpo’s too distracted by your erratic move. Surely you’ve got something good?

He contemplates for an eternity, jade eyes dart between his hand, the dealer’s hand, your face. Ranpo can’t see through you at all. This is the smart man’s dilemma, you’re beaming in your head, the most intelligent man in the world could never call such a foolish bet, no matter how good his cards were. 

“I fold,” he throws his cards face up on the table, a whine tinges his voice. 

“Ha!” You slam both hands on the table, startling Ranpo as he’s rocking on the hind legs of his chair. He quickly reaches for the desk to steady himself and looks at your measly two and three. If he just had the nerve, if he matched you at the end, he would have ruined you with the singular Ace in his deck. But he didn’t. He surrendered to you, of all people.

He huffed and crossed his arms, turning his face away from the amused laughter and chatter. “What an entertaining game!” Dazai clapped his hands together slowly, a disturbing smile spreading across his face.

“Anytime,” you bow to them all with exaggerated hand movements, relief washed over you as you felt luck, pure gold, returning to your veins.

Ranpo sulked all the way home. Not a single word, not a single sweet eaten, not a single brush of his fingers against yours. Just him trailing two paces behind while you still basked in the glory of your dramatic win.

Click! The front door of your shared apartment shuts behind you, there’s no time for you to lock it as Ranpo takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them above your head. He locks you in place with a knee between your legs, pushing up just enough to make you whimper.

Your boyfriend leans forward and whispers in your ear, “I’m gonna punish you for showing me up in front of everyone like that.” He presses his leg higher again into your core, just a little; just enough to leave you wanting more.

“I have no regrets,” you grin.

@12daysofchristmas

If you enjoyed, please consider helping out by dropping a reblog or follow ☆