#hey so about the guy we left under several tons of ice

[sonicchaoscontrol]

[Ch. 1, Page 31]

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There's 'this ain't my first rodeo' and then there's whatever this is

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[reidingandwriting]

"Deja Vu"

Word Count: ~2300 words

Ship: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (ex/platonic?), Peter Parker x Michelle Jones

Warnings: A curse word or two, slightly OOC moments but it is fan-fiction so :)

A/N: I'm in love with this song and had to write this. Popped this baby out in 3 hours, and I'm pretty happy with it. Side note: I created my own timeline for this lmao. Morgan exists, but they don't live in the cabin. Reader is mentioned to be fem once or twice, but reads neutral besides that! Reader is Tony's kid but it could be read as adopted/his bio kid.

“One strawberry ice cream, just for you.” Peter said as he set the cup down in front of MJ, a single spoon dipped in the light pink dessert. MJ immediately started to eat as Peter took a seat beside her, and you and Ned were seated across from the couple at a local ice cream shop you had discovered. The one where you had taken him, where you had convinced him to try the strawberry ice cream instead of the vanilla he always got. You scooped a spoonful of your rocky road ice cream a little too aggressively, unable to eat your favorite ice cream flavor anymore.

“Thanks, Parker, it’s really good.” MJ said and Peter nudged her shoulder.

“Mind if I steal a bite?’

“Of course I mind.” MJ deadpanned and Peter blanched before MJ smirked at him. “Go ahead, loser. Just one.” MJ gave him a look and Peter saluted.

“Scout’s honor.” Peter took MJ’s spoon before he took a bite, and you barely held back the scowl as you looked over at Ned. He gave you a sympathetic smile and tapped his foot against yours under the safety of the booth. You brushed your shoulder against Ned’s while Peter and MJ were too entranced by each other to notice.

“If you get any ice cream on my jacket, I’m burning yours.” MJ’s words were menacing, but you all knew she was (mostly) kidding. Peter scoffed and held his hand against his chest in mock offense, the sleeves of MJ’s jean jacket comedically too short on Peter’s arms. MJ was dressed in Peter’s Midtown hoodie, the same one you had worn just a few months ago.

You thought it would have been funny to switch jackets, knowing your jacket would look funny on him, while you wore Peter’s oversized hoodie. And now here was MJ, wearing the same sweatshirt, while Peter wore her jacket. Have any original ideas, Parker?

“Earth to Y/N.” MJ waved her hand in your face, and you snapped back to the present. “You okay? You zoned out there for a minute.”

“Yeah, sorry. Morgan decided she wanted a sleepover last night, so we just had to build a pillow fort in my room, and that felt fantastic on my back. Almost as great as her practically laying on top of me all night.” You chuckled. “And you know I couldn’t move her, she’s got me wrapped around her finger.”

“And she knows it.” Peter said and you smiled over at him.

“Speaking of Morgan. She’s been asking me all week about if you want to come over sometime this weekend. She’s in a big Lion King phase, and she wants ‘her Petey’ to come have a pajama party with her and have a sing-along. She’s Nala, of course.” Ned snorted and Peter’s face fell.

“I can’t this weekend. MJ and I are having a Glee watch party this weekend, can you believe she’s never seen Glee?” Peter asked and you felt a pang of jealousy in your stomach.

“Oh, really?” You asked. Much like you hadn’t seen it either, until six months ago. “It’s pretty iconic, but also the worst show ever. Singing along is pretty fun, just being annoying. Really fun.” You thought back to when you and Peter were in your room, doing the same thing.

“Don’t stop believing!” Peter stood on your bed, using the remote as a microphone to serenade you. Peter looked at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes before singing the next line, just as enthusiastically as he did.

“Hold on to the feeling!” Peter cheered and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You’re so annoying, Parker.”

“As annoying as this show?”

“Almost.”

“Then I’m not quite done yet.”

“Raincheck next weekend, maybe?” Peter asked and you shrugged.

“I’ll have to check with Madame Secretary. She’ll likely be over The Lion King by next weekend, it’ll be ‘baby stuff.’” Your phone buzzed and you excused yourself before checking the text.

Iron Dad: Hey, kid. Are you busy?

You: A little. Why?

Iron Dad: Pep and I have an emergency meeting for work, and Happy’s sick so he can’t watch Maguna

You: I’m on my way. Give me five to say goodbye

Iron Dad: Thanks, Y/N/N. We owe you one

You: You owe me several. Love you

Iron Dad: Love you tons

“I’m sorry, guys, duty calls.” You smiled, albeit a little sadly, at your friends. “I’ll see you Monday at school?”

“We better. We have a project in chemistry due on Monday.” Ned said and you flipped him off.

“Science is my best class, you know I’ve had the project done and Dr. Banner approved since the project was announced in class.” You winked at Ned before waving at MJ and Peter. “See you later, lovebirds.” You internally cringed when ‘lovebirds’ came out more bitter than you intended. With goodbyes exchanged, you left the ice cream parlor, and you bit back the tears you felt beginning to build up. Did he feel it, too? Did he remember that you did that, too? Was he ever going to tell her all the ‘unique’ things Peter’s done were reused, that you had found them first? You wiped at your eyes before you hailed a taxi, and you shoved all your feelings down to be at your best for your little sister.

--

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Morgan barreled down the hall when you stepped out of the elevator, and you barely bent down to catch her in time as she collided with you.

“Morgan, Morgan, Morgan!” You scooped your sister up into your arms and peppered her face with kisses until she was laughing, and your mood immediately lifted at the sound. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”

“Mom’s at work, Dad’s in his room. He’s leaving us.” Morgan pouted and you copied her expression.

“Oh, no. You’re stuck with me tonight. Too bad I’m not tall enough to reach the juice pops in the freezer.” You gasped. “Oh, wait. I am!” Morgan thrusted her fist into the air with a cheer, and you set her down. “I need to go talk to Dad real quick, then we can do almost whatever you want.” You emphasized the almost, knowing she’d ask for something you definitely shouldn’t do, then argue that you said ‘anything.’ You definitely saw a career in law for her when she got older.

“Kay-kay. I’ll go get coloring books, then we get juice pops?”

“Deal.” You offered your pinky out, and she linked pinkies with yours before she ran off to her room. You shook your head fondly before you walked off to your dad’s room, and you knocked on his door before coming in. “Dad?”

“Hey, kiddo. Come on in, I’m just packing a few things for Pep.” You walked over to the bag your dad had packed, and you began to inspect everything. “Have I been approved?”

“I think I need a hug before giving approval.” You opened your arms and your dad happily pulled you into his chest, and he held you close, as if he could sense your feelings.

“Are you okay? Do I need to stay?” Tony rubbed your back and rocked you gently, and you buried your face deeper into his chest, your eyes watering and you gripped his shirt tighter, a habit you developed when Tony first took you in- you always grabbed onto him like he was your security blanket, and Tony quickly learned there was no use in getting you to let go until you were ready.

“No, I’m okay.” Your voice was muffled but you made no effort to move yet. “Mom needs you.” You paused. “You’ll be back soon, right?”

“Luckily we’re just headed to the New York headquarters. I hope we’re home by midnight, but I’ll tell you when we find out for sure.” You nodded and let go of your dad, and he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, and he wiped your tears away with his thumb and the action almost made you cry again. “Ben and Jerry’s and sad movies when I get back, or should I get a few punching bags set up in the gym?”

“Ben and Jerry’s.” Tony nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you patted his arm, telling him he could continue packing. “ Don’t forget Mom’s favorite lipstick. She always keeps one on her, but you can never be too safe.”

“Lifesaver.” Tony said before he went back to packing.

“I should go check on Morgan, let you finish getting packed.” You said and Tony smiled at you, a softness in his eyes reserved solely for you, Morgan, and Pepper.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best big sister?”

“I do my best.” You smile back before leaving. Fingers crossed she hadn’t made a mess already.

--

You laid in bed, scrolling through your camera roll with tears streaming down your cheeks. You pressed play on a video and let out a choked sob as you watched. You and Peter were seated at the piano in the living room, and your fingers moved gracefully across the keys, playing one of your favorite songs that Peter had begged you to play for him. The familiar sounds of Billy Joel’s ‘Uptown Girl’ filled your ears, and you sang along as you played. You turned to Peter, nodded at him, and he began to play the same song after you. You hugged him at the end of the song, grinning since he had finally learned it, and you began to play it again, Peter joining you in singing along. Not even that was reserved for you and him anymore, as you had learned recently.

“I didn’t know you played.” You said as MJ took a seat at the piano, Peter seated beside her.

“Oh, I just learned. Peter taught me the one song he knows how to play.” Your heart sank and now Ned was curious.

“What song?” Don’t say it, don’t say it.

“Uptown Girl.” MJ began to play, and you felt your lip begin to tremble. Your song. The one you had taught him. You looked away as Peter quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek after the first chorus, and he whispered something into her ear. You turned to Ned and dove deep into a conversation, refusing to cry in front of them.

You jumped when you heard a knock on your window, and you grabbed the baseball bat you kept by your bed. You would have called for Bucky or Sam, but the pair were off on their own mission. You got out of bed, wiping away your tears, and you walked to the window, bat at the ready. “FRIDAY, who’s getting knocked to next year with my bat?”

“It appears Peter Parker is the one outside your window.” Peter? Of course it was.

“Lights on dim, FRI.” You set the bat down and opened the window, and Peter popped into view. “Peter? What the hell? You almost gave me a heart attack, dude.”

“I’m sorry, I know, sorry. I didn’t plan on coming out here, but I needed to talk to you.” You gestured for Peter to come in, and you suddenly realized how you had to look to him. You were in a shirt you had stolen from Thor- what? His shirt got mixed up with yours, finders keepers. You were in an old pair of sweatpants that were covered in various stains- paint from Morgan, some grease from Tony’s lab, and a bleach mark from where you and Peter were goofing around in the lab and you spilled some mystery chemical on your pants. And let’s not even talk about your puffy eyes and the tear marks on your cheeks from a night of crying.

“About what?” You sat on your bed, eyes not meeting Peter’s.

“About earlier at the ice cream parlor. You seemed really… spaced out. Not yourself. And I caught you scowling once.”

“I didn’t scowl.” You tried to defend yourself but you sighed, knowing he was right.

“And ever since MJ and I started dating, you’ve just seemed different. You’re not, like, jealous, are you?” And you couldn’t help but laugh. Truly laugh, which caused Peter’s brows to furrow. “What’s so funny?”

“You think I’m jealous! Why should I be jealous?” Peter frowned at how you weren’t taking him seriously, and he was confused.

“You know, we had… a thing. Not that we dated, but I mean, we were really close you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Like a switch, your emotions flipped from sad to frustrated in seconds. “And I’m seeing all these ‘things’ we had all over again.” It was Peter’s turn to start getting irritated, and he crossed his arms.

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Strawberry ice cream at the parlor, you can’t act like we didn’t do that. Trading jackets, we did that shit too. Teaching her piano when I taught you, how do you not get deja vu?” Peter opened his mouth to talk and you held your hand up. “You’ve got a different girl, but there’s nothing new. I discovered those places you take her, I showed you Glee, I taught you the jokes that you tell to her. When are you gonna tell her? She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused. I know I get deja vu, don’t you?” You had started to cry again, and Peter started to defend himself until FRIDAY spoke.

“Y/N, your father and mother have returned home. You may want to continue this conversation later.” You looked at Peter who wordlessly nodded. He walked to the window, and he paused before he spoke.

“We’ll talk Monday after patrol. Bye, Y/N/N.” You whispered goodbye before he left and you shut the window before you dropped to your knees, letting out broken sobs.

“I get deja vu when she’s with you…”

[expectingtofly]

Fuck Mistletoe

2k

post 15x20, human castiel, established dean/cas, fluff

also on ao3

Day 8 of @bend-me-shape-me‘s SPN Advent Calendar 2020 prompts

Dean didn’t want to admit it, but yes, he’d hung mistletoe in the bunker.

He’d found a sprig tied with a red bow while helping Jack go through the boxes of Christmas decorations Mrs. Butters had left behind. It’d been more of a gag than anything to hang the bright green plant over one of the doors leading into the War Room, and when he’d explained the tradition to Jack, he’d made sure to emphasize that it was a sappy, Hallmark-y tradition. Jack seemed unbothered by that fact and chased down Miracle every time the dog padded under the mistletoe to give him a kiss on the nose. And it shouldn’t have been a surprise when, later that day, Dean needed to make a hasty retreat from the room when he walked in and spotted Sam and Eileen under the mistletoe.

It was great that everyone else was getting some mileage out of it, and he was happy for them and totally not moping around the bunker because he hadn’t seen Castiel all day. At the moment, Jack was wrapping presents, Sam and Eileen were nowhere to be found—not that Dean wanted to find them—Miracle was occupied with a Christmas tree-shaped chew toy, and Castiel was out Christmas shopping. Dean had not been invited because apparently Castiel was shopping for him—which was a little bit concerning because Dean wasn’t sure what types of gifts he’d end up receiving. All he did know was that he was currently bored out of his mind, occupying himself by wandering around the bunker. 

He was flicking the switch on and off for a dancing, singing snowman figurine (Jack found it endlessly amusing and Dean knew Sam would end up taking the batteries out soon enough), when the bunker door creaked and he looked up to see Castiel coming down the stairs with bags hanging from his arms. 

“Hey Cas!” he called. He started forward, then stopped awkwardly and watched Castiel come down the stairs. He and Castiel hadn’t been dating long and, to tell the truth, Dean often got tripped up over how to act around him. Did he kiss him when Castiel returned from a day-long shopping trip? Did he hug him? None of the above?

Thankfully, Castiel saved them both from some awkwardness by clutching the bags tighter to his chest. “You can’t look,” he said, and Dean held a hand up over his eyes.

“I won’t.” He peeked at him through his fingers. Castiel was wearing an oversized red and white striped sweater with a reindeer across the front. Once he’d discovered Christmas sweaters, there was no going back. If when Dean was younger, anyone had told him he’d find himself dating a former angel with the strangest wardrobe… “You buy me tons of gifts?”

“Tons,” Castiel deadpanned and looked around the room. “Did you guys decorate more?” 

“Yeah, uh, we added a few things.” He followed as Castiel headed to the mistletoe door—not that it mattered that there was mistletoe over it; the whole thing was a weird idea anyway. Why some leafy plant with the word "toe" in its name? Why any plant? Who started this absurd tradition in the first place?

“You have to see what I bought for Jack,” Castiel told him over his shoulder. “Just let me hide your gifts first.” Then he stopped in his tracks a foot away from the mistletoe and turned. “Oh, wait, I bought more cookie mix, I have to bring it into the kitchen.” He passed Dean to go through the other door and Dean stared at the mistletoe before sighing and following him. 

No big deal, he could kiss Castiel under the mistletoe later. Not that he really cared; no, not at all. This was only his and Castiel’s first Christmas as a couple, which only made everything more nerve wracking because he didn’t know what to do with himself. Was Castiel a kiss-under-the-mistletoe type of person, or would he be confused by the tradition? A few years ago, probably the latter, but this year, ever since becoming human, Castiel had wholeheartedly accepted every holiday tradition, researching them to know the history of their creation. Dean grinned despite himself watching Castiel tuck the bag of cookie mix onto a cabinet shelf. Such a dorky little guy. He really loved him. 

Leaving the kitchen, Castiel ducked into one of the extra bedrooms and, after a few moments, emerged with only a small, white bag. “Jack will love this,” he said, and, looking conspiratorially around, pulled out a knitted beanie. Bright green, with white pom-pom snowmen and one big, fluffy, white pom-pom crowning the top.

Dean blinked at it and Castiel beamed at him. “Isn’t it nice? Touch it, it’s got pom-poms.”

“Yeah, that’s um...” Castiel held the hat out and Dean dutifully touched the pom-poms. “Very bright. Festive.”

“Very festive,” Castiel agreed, studying the hat with a smile. “I don’t want to wait, I want to give it to Jack now.”

“Cas, you can’t just give everyone their presents early. What’s the point of Christmas morning then?”

“But it’s cold outside! He might need it before then.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Alright, give it to him early.” He followed Castiel down the hallway. “You have any gifts you want to give me now?” Fingers crossed it wasn’t a similarly ridiculous hat.

"You are gonna have to wait until the 25th. Where is Jack?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe check in the War Room, or the Library?” He winced hearing the words come out of his mouth. God, he was pathetic. These things were supposed to happen organically, not by tricking Castiel to go through the mistletoe-decorated doorway.

“Dean, we just came from there.” Castiel paused, then turned down the corner. “I think music’s coming from Jack’s room. He must be in there.” 

Dean followed and, hating himself, tried again, “You should check out the decorations Jack and I put up, though. He's really excited about them.”

“Is he?” Castiel asked, not pausing. “I’ll go look at them after I give him this.” He smiled at Dean over his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re getting into the holiday spirit, Dean.”

“Hmm.” Not that it was working out very well for him so far.

And he didn’t have any more luck the rest of the night, either. Jack loved the hat, of course, and even proceeded to wear it through dinner. Sam and Eileen were disgustingly cute as they washed dishes together. And Castiel successfully avoided the mistletoe like the plague.

Dean didn’t know why he was letting it get to him. Alright, maybe he knew why. Sure, he and Castiel were “dating” now and sleeping together, but everything was still new. After years of stepping around his feelings for Castiel (not to mention being woefully unpracticed in the art of romantic relationships), officially becoming a couple felt strange, unfamiliar. Sam and Eileen, they were the perfect couple who had it all figured out. Whereas, half of the time, Dean didn’t even know how to act around Castiel. He alternated being between too handsy and too friggin’ bashful. 

Not to mention it was the holiday season, which meant a hundred and one traditions centered around romance. Was he the kind of boyfriend who’d take Castiel ice skating as a date? Wear matching Christmas sweaters? (Okay, he knew the answer to that one—hell no). Maybe go for a drive and look at Christmas lights? Who knew? Maybe he did want to be that boyfriend. But, seeing as how he couldn’t even manage to kiss Castiel under some damn mistletoe, he wasn’t sure he was cut out for any of that romance shit.

The mistletoe hung cheerfully over the War Room doorway, mocking him, when he entered in search of a drink. Pouring a glass and sitting down, he beckoned for Miracle to join him. Obediently, Miracle came over and Dean reached down to rub his fur. 

“You wanna be my Christmas romance?” he asked him. Miracle stared up at him, one ear askew, then flounced away to play with his new favorite tree toy. 

Alrighty, then. Straightening, Dean eyed the mistletoe. Dammit, he really was shit at these romantic gestures. Who did he think he was? Did he think he was in some damn Hallmark movie? This was ridiculous. Making up his mind, he strode over determinedly, reached up, and tore the mistletoe from the doorframe. 

“What’s that?”

Startling, Dean turned to see Castiel watching him, his head tilted to one side, his arms full with several wrapping paper tubes. “Oh, uh.” Dean looked down at the plant in his hand. “It’s mistletoe.” He felt stupid even saying it aloud.

“Why are you taking it down?”

“Um, I wasn’t—I was just, uh, adjusting it.”

"That’s one of the decorations you hung up earlier?”

Dean felt his face flush. “Uh, yeah. It’s stupid—”

“No, it’s a very nice touch.” Castiel walked over. “I’m going to help Jack wrap presents. I would ask you to join us, but we’re wrapping your presents.” He smiled at Dean and walked out of the room, through the doorway which Dean had just torn the mistletoe down from. 

Dean stared after him, then back down at the mistletoe in his hand. Shit.

After all that, he was tempted to throw the mistletoe in the trash and give up, but his pride demanded he try again. He had not worked up the courage to tell Castiel he loved him after years of denying it to himself and others, just to lose his nerve over an absurd holiday tradition. He’d be damned before he let a fucking plant get the better of him.

So he changed tactics and hung the mistletoe over a doorway he knew Castiel would have to walk through eventually, and he waited.

And that night, when Castiel opened the door to their bedroom, Dean tossed aside the book he’d been trying to occupy himself with, scrambled off the bed, grabbed the absurd Christmas sweater Castiel had taken to wearing, and kissed him soundly. 

Castiel let out a surprised noise and, letting go of him, Dean exclaimed, “Finally!” He pointed at the mistletoe. “You know you’ve been avoiding this crap like you’re allergic to it?” He was aware that ambushing Castiel under the mistletoe wasn’t the most romantic act, but screw that. He’d done it; romantic Christmas tradition accomplished. Put “good boyfriend” under his list of accomplishments.

Castiel stared at him, then up at the mistletoe, then back at him. “I didn’t realize… Have you been waiting all day to do that?”

“Um, no,” Dean faltered.

Castiel slowly smiled. “You know there’s no need for mistletoe, right? You can just kiss me whenever?" 

Shit, when Castiel put it that way. “I mean, yeah, but—” Castiel grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him again, successfully shutting him up for a moment. But he’d endured too much to let his efforts go ignored, so he broke away to finish, “....but it was super romantic and I think I should get boyfriend points for this.” He was half-joking, but of course Castiel grew serious. 

“Dean,” he said, “you know I don’t need any dramatic gestures to know you love me.”

“Yeah, but you’re the poster child for dramatic gestures,” Dean pointed out. “You confessed your love in a three minute monologue right before dying on me.”

Castiel looked thoughtful. “I suppose that’s true. Perhaps we are both a tad dramatic. And I do appreciate the gesture, really.” Then he smiled. “As it happens, I have a surprise for you too.” 

No, fuck, please, no, Dean thought desperately, but, sure enough, Castiel produced a beanie from behind his back. Similar to the one he had bought for Jack, though this one was blue, decorated with reindeer and tiny red pom-pom noses. “I couldn’t wait.”

Dean stared at the hat. The universe was testing him today, that was for sure. But then he smiled and took it from Castiel. “I love it.” If dating Castiel meant corny holiday traditions and putting up with his absurd fashion choices, so be it. They were figuring out what being a couple meant for them, and he was happy with what they had together.

(And if the hat disappeared under mysterious circumstances, that wasn’t his fault.)

Castiel beamed at him, then glanced up at the mistletoe. “Now do I have to hang this over our bed to keep kissing you or—?”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Grabbing Castiel’s sleeve, Dean dragged him into the bedroom, kissing him as he shut the door behind them, pausing only to tear down the mistletoe and toss it across the room. Because fuck mistletoe.

Tag List

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @arcticfox007 @gmos-winter-wonderland @celestialcastiel @improvedpeanut

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my other destiel fics or removed from the list :)

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Restricted Magic Arc 3 pt 8

On October 13th, 2018 I wrote a short story based on a Fictober challenge. That ended up turning into a 3 arc fantasy adventure story of Erin and Gerald, and my first ever long running series on this blog. Before that I had pretty much only done short stories. Unfortunately about a third of the way through the last arc, I hit major writer’s block, and abandoned the story. 

Until now. 

2 years later, I’m posting a new part. I won’t promise steady or frequent updates to this, but I am going to definitely try to finish this story. It was one of my favorites, and I want everyone to be able to enjoy it to the end with me. 

Masterpost is linked here. 

Arc 3 pt 7 linked here in case you want a quick refresher on where I left off.

Enjoy!

_____________________

“We’re running out of time.”

Elsinore whispered to herself, crossing her arms across her chest as she shivered with cold. Her fingers dug into her arms, the skin breaking along the tips of her nails. Rivulets of blood ran down, soaking the sleeve of her prison uniform, the pain of the injury dulled by her inner panic. Pacing back and forth around her cell, she stepped in the fluid dripping off her clothes, tracking red footprints on the well-worn floor.

The illusion of Sophia sat on her bed, watching her with a bored expression. “Pretty sure we have nothing but time, living contained in a cell like this.”

“SHUT UP!” Elsinore glared at her sister’s image. “You heard her! Erin is going to MERION!” She threw up her hands. “Merion! Why would she do this to me? I swore never to return there!”

“Is that what happened?” Sophia tapped a finger to her cheek, “Why do I seem to remember that you were banished?” She grinned, jumping to her feet and walking towards her. Her ghostly image tracked over the pooled blood without disturbing it. “But sure, you can pretend it was your choice to not return. Definitely not your punishment for betraying the country… and selling me to the Devil.”

Elsinore clutched her head, trying to ignore the voice of her dead sister, knowing it was her own illusion magic, her own delusion. “Roderick is planning something… why else would he bring her there of all places? No! We have to kill him before its too late!”

“Is that what you told my daughter?”

“She’s betrayed me.” Elsinore paced faster, her eyes wildly looking around the room. “She’s lost focus. So many years. So many sacrifices. And now she’s forgotten everything and abandoned me?!”

“You mean she’s finally looked to a future beyond killing her father? Wanting to survive, get married, have a life that’s about more than just one horrible man?”

“IT’S ABOUT AVENGING HER MOTHER’S MURDER!” Elsinore screamed at the figment of her imagination. “AVENGING YOUR DEATH! THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS!”

“Elsinore…”

“SHUT UP!” She waved a blood stained hand, unsure if the dripping fluid was real or not, her gaze focusing inwards. “I haven’t lost sight of the goal. If she won’t kill him.”

“Sister…”

“Then I will. “

There was a moment of tense silence, broken finally by the screams of the guards outside.

“Fire!”

“The whole building’s burning!”

“Here, this way!”

The door to her cell opened, several armed men ran in, their eyes wide, staring at nothing. Elsinore smiled, spreading her hands widely.

“Why thank you, gentlemen. You’ve served your purpose beautifully.”

The men looked at each other with confused expressions, that slowly changed into ones of horror as their minds fell prey to her magic.

“The witch escaped! Don’t think you can run away!” Facing off, they drew their weapons, each striking the other accurately, and slumping to the ground. Even as they died, their faces were confused, unsure of what was real and what was not.

“Illusion is so close to reality, isn’t it.” Elsinore chuckled, stepping over their quickly cooling bodies and walking out the door. “You really shouldn’t be fooled by such simple lies.”

“You’re one to talk!” The image of her dead sister snorted with laughter, but she ignored her.

“Let’s go.”

She walked down the hallway, her pace casual, unhurried as if she were walking in her own home on her way to tea rather than a bloody hellhole.

Along the way she was attacked several times. They never got near her, striking uselessly in the air as they were caught in her magic again and again. One man brushed passed her, and slumped with shock as she restricted his magic. He had time to scream in fear before dying under the confused attacks from his fellow guards.

The building was burning around her, the heat singing her hair as she passed by.

Elsinore passed by the bodies, the carnage, the destruction of her captors, and she quietly began to laugh.

“Sister…” The illusion of Sophia tried to reach out, but Elsinore could no longer hear her as her laughter grew louder and louder.

She walked out of the door, turning briefly to enjoy the sight of the government building that had been her prison going up in flames.

The fire burned brightly against the quickly darkening sky, the smoke filling the area. Elsinore watched it with fascination, unsure if it were truly burning or not. The guards had fired multiple blasts of flames, it was possible that one of them had begun it accidentally, destroying her former prison. But it could still be her illusion magic, Elsinore simply wasn’t sure.

Not that it mattered either way.

Beyond the crackle of the flames there were no other sounds, everyone else beside Elsinore was dead. She leaned her head back, taking a deep breath to calm herself as her laughter died out.

“Roderick… I’m coming for you.”

Finally he would pay for his sins.

Only then would she truly be free.

_____________________

Olivia and Frederick sat in the front car of the magical transport, each enjoying the trip in their own way.

Olivia was looking out the glass window, watching the scenery as the large metal locomotive moved forward, skimming across the sand as if it were as slick as ice. Resting her chin on one palm, she was a picture of calm. However, every once and a while she would shoot an annoyed glance further into the metal car where a banging noise could be heard.

“Frederick I swear, if you break this transport and we have to walk to Merion, I will destroy you.”

CLANG!

An even louder noise filled the small space, as if to mock her threatening words, and a grease-stained Frederick poked his head up from a small compartment in the floor where he had been happily working.

“Really, you will destroy me?” he grinned. “You and what army?”

Olivia studied her nails, ignoring his sarcasm. “It’s strange…I seem to remember during our last sparring session one of us being defeated… badly.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Like, so badly it was humiliating.”

“Ugh, please don’t…”

“I wonder who that was again?” Her grin was vicious.

Frederick glared. “Fine. Point taken. But keep in mind, I’m not breaking anything!”

“Really? That banging noise I heard was you just passively observing?”

“No, but all I’m doing is trying to get a closer look at this mechanism.” His eyes brightened. “It’s incredible to see a magical artifact like this, something so huge but it moves so smoothly!”

With one hand gesturing further down into the space below the floor, he continued to excitedly explain. “A level 5 earth artifact like this is the stuff dreams are made of. It actually combines several different magics involving the connection between the vehicle and the ground as well as speed adjustment, terrain variability…”

“STOP!” Olivia gave up. “It’s so boring. Please don’t make me listen to another hour long lecture on the wonders of artifacts!”

“This isn’t just an artifact!” He argued back. “This is a work of art!”

“Still boring.”

“How about we compromise? You listen to me gush about how awesome this artifact is, and in return, I’ll let you talk as long as you want about a topic you want.”

“Fashion.”

He winced at her immediate answer. “Really?”

“It’s that or we talk about the many horrifying and disgusting ways the human body can break down and how to fix them with healing magic.”

“…” Frederick sat their silently with a pained expression.

“Well?”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking!” He gave a long sigh. ”Fine. Fashion it is.”

Olivia rubbed her hands together. “This will be fun!”

“Okay, but first I get to talk about this artifact.”

“Deal.” She stuck out her hand, which Frederick grasped and shook briefly.

“So, the first thing I love about the mechanism of this particular artifact…”

“Hey you guys!” Christopher interrupted Frederick’s impassioned words as he walked into the car with a pleasant smile. “Enjoying the trip so far?”

Frederick and Olivia didn’t turn to face him. Frederick looked back down at the hatch with a frown, while Olivia pulled out a filing board and began touching up her nails. Neither bothered to respond.

“It looks like you were studying the engine?” Christopher noticed the open hatch in the floor, his cheerful expression fading a little. “That could be very dangerous, I really wouldn’t advise that.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Frederick snorted with laughter. “I know what I’m doing. If I want your opinion on something that you actually know something about, I’ll ask for it.” Rubbing his head with one hand, a trail of grease was left on his forehead.

Olivia pulled out a handkerchief, cleaning him off. “That’s bold of you, assuming he knows something about any topic.”

“Don’t be silly!” Frederick flinched at her scrubbing, but rolled his eyes and finished letting her clean off his face. “He knows a lot about a ton of different subjects!”

“Like what?”

“How about flirting with everything that moves like a dog in heat?”

She nodded solemnly. “You’re right! How could I have forgotten?”

“There’s also harp playing.”

“How about fiancé stealing?”

“Puppy murdering?”

“Hey!” Christopher broke into their back and forth with a frustrated groan. “I thought we had agreed to put that awful nickname behind us?”

Frederick nodded seriously. “You’re right. It was getting old. We need a new one anyways.”

“That’s not what I…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. I’m looking for Erin. Where is she?”

Olivia and Frederick glanced at each other, and then answered simultaneously.

“She died.”

“Who’s Erin?”

Christopher’s face was twitching, he seemed to force himself to hold a friendly expression.

“Guys, can you tone down the hostility? I’m her fiancé. It’s not like I’m trying to hurt her.”

“You think this is hostility?” Frederick laughed. “That’s cute.”

“I’m really a friendly guy once you get to know me.”

Olivia laughed. “Just keep telling yourself that, Kitten Killer.”

“Ooh I like the new nickname!” Frederick politely applauded.

“I thought the alliteration would give it a certain flair.”

“It certainly did.”

“WE’RE GETTING OFF TOPIC!” Christopher’s voice was raised. He paused, seemingly shocked at the crack in his normally impervious polite mask. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he continued in a more reasonable tone. “Look. I’m just asking a simple question. Do you know where Erin is, or not?”

Olivia stood up, her face grim. “I’ve been wanting to say this for a while.” Her finger raised in the air, poking Christopher’s chest hard enough to force him to step back. “Erin is a better person then you or I will ever be. She’s my best friend in the whole world and I would crawl naked over broken glass before betraying her again. So no, I don’t know where she is, I will never know where she is.” She glared. “At least as far as you’re concerned.”

Christopher stared back at her, confused. “What do you mean again?”

“Olivia, you don’t have to tell him…” Frederick tried to interrupt, but Olivia quickly took over.

“No. He should understand this.” She turned back towards the golden haired young man with a frown. “I made a mistake. I let myself be used by Erin’s enemies. I used an artifact to steal other people’s powers and let her take the blame. I even kidnapped…”

“YOU USED WHAT?!” His earlier calm completely erased, Christopher reached out and grabbed Olivia’s shoulders, shaking her back and forth, silencing her. “You stole other’s powers, leeched their magic, and she FORGAVE you?” He snorted derisively, his face still red with rage. “Impossible. She must not have realized what you were doing! Otherwise she would have left you, there’s no way…”

BAM!

Frederick had moved, almost faster than the eye could follow, and pushed Christopher away from Olivia, slamming him back against the wall of the transport. His fist slammed against the wall, fire magic blazing around his fingers.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” Frederick looked calm, but his eyes showed the anger just underneath the surface.

“What, no quippy jokes?” Christopher raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconcerned by the burning fist mere inches away from his face. “How unlike you.”

“Just keep going in this direction, and I’ll give you something to laugh about.”

The young man sighed, looking tired. “Fine, fine, I can take a hint. I’ll go away. You can stop threatening to set my hair on fire.”

Frederick stepped away slowly, the flames around his hand sputtering out, and Christopher turned and left through the door towards the next car without another word.

“…” Olivia stepped forward, a complex expression on her face. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem.” Frederick shrugged with a grin. “It’s not your fault you’re so weak that you get bullied by everyone else… but it’s more fun if I’m the one who gets to do it.”

“…”

“Olivia?”

BAM!

“OW!”

_____________________

“You okay?” Gerald reached over from his seat across hers and held Erin’s hand between his own. They had grabbed their own passenger car after Frederick loudly complained about their public display of affection blunting his cynicism and hatred for the world. Erin had rolled her eyes at the time, but was now appreciating the space. The car was quiet, with only the low rumble of the engine moving the transport to break the silence.

She shrugged, staring out the window as the land raced past.

“I’m not sure what’s ahead, but worrying about it won’t change anything. We have to face it.”

“Hey at least the worst is behind us.” At his words, she turned to look at him incredulously.

“What do you mean?”

“EXAMS ARE OVER!” He pumped his fist in the air, a goofy smile on his face. “I’m so happy we survived.”

Erin sighed. “Even ignoring the fact that you somehow have placed exams as the worst thing after we have faced murderers, assassins and entire ARMIES together… you do realize we still have to take final exams at the end of the year before we can graduate?”

“…” Gerald stared at her, looking shocked.

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

His only answer was a sad groan. Chuckling, Erin patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you prepare.”

“Well at least there’s that.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, both watching the scenery from the window.

“Gerald, I’m worried.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his warmth.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m starting to lose control.” She rubbed her forehead. “It used to be easy to keep things hidden, keep things restricted, but now… It’s like something is unbalanced inside me. How many times have I destroyed whole buildings since we’ve returned?”

“I mean, I’m just saying, if your father and that brat of a fake fiancé would leave you alone you could stop rearranging the school architecture, …”

“Maybe it’s from using Aunt Elsinore’s magic for so long… maybe it’s something else. I don’t know…”

“Well maybe we can ask her… have you heard anything from Aunt Elsinore?” Gerald asked her quietly.

Erin shook her head. “No, not since our last conversation, even though I’ve tried several times to contact her.” Her hands curled into fists. “Do you think…”

“Think what?”

“Think my father got to her?” She closed her eyes. “She’s never been out of reach before… and now I worry…”

“Erin…”

“That she’ll end up just like my mother.”

“ERIN!” At Gerald’s shout her eyes sprang open. The window next to them was cracked, the seat around her torn to shreds. It looked as if a storm had raged in the tiny passenger cabin. Erin stared around her, feeling shocked.

“You see?” She reached out, gently touching the cracked glass. “Ever since we fought that army, even the artifact isn’t doing much anymore.”

Gerald sighed. “Your magic flows a lot more easily now then it ever did. With my level 5 Insight you glow like a sun. The amulet holds back less and less each day.”

“It was always supposed to be a temporary solution. But I need it to shield things for a little bit longer. A foreign country is not exactly the best place to confront my father.”

She sighed, placing her head in her hands. “I think he suspects my true powers already.”

“Well, I’ll contact my parents, ask my people to look into what’s happened to Aunt Elsinore.”

Erin smiled at his attempt to comfort her. “Really? It would make me feel a lot better to know she’s safe.”

“Of course! I’ll call them as soon as we arrive.” His head snapped up as he finished talking, seeming to sense something, as he turned towards the door of the cabin with a furious expression. 

“No need.”

The words were spoken quietly, barely audible within the passenger car, but the effect on Erin and Gerald was instantaneous.

She leapt to her feet, her face pale and angry, every muscle in her body tense and ready for a fight. Gerald also stood, putting his body partway between Erin and the new arrival, his posture clearly communicating an intent to protect as hers was to attack.

General Roderick smiled, the expression causing cold chills to run down Erin’s spine. “Sit down. We’re not going to fight here.”

Reluctantly, Gerald and Erin sat back, down, this time on the same side. Slowly, her father walked closer, sitting across from them, casually looking around, ignoring the increasingly tense atmosphere.

“What did you mean by ‘no need’?” Erin’s mind was racing as she thought back through their conversation. What had he overheard? How long had he been standing there?

Gerald squeezed her hand reassuringly beside her, and Erin calmed down slightly, with his insight there was no way her father could sneak up on them easily.

“Your inquiries after your aunt.” Roderick’s smile widened. “I’m afraid she’s no longer to be found in her government residence.”

“You mean her prison.”

He ignored her interruption, continuing. “She burnt the whole place down, killing all of my men.”

“…” Gerald and Erin stared at each other in shock.

“I assume you will see her soon enough, so need to waste the time looking for her.”

“What do you…?”

“She’ll be on her way to kill me.” Even as he discussed her aunt’s murderous intentions, he seemed… bored. “I expect her sometime in the next few weeks.”

Erin stood up again, struggling to hold in her magic as anger took hold. “You could be lying. She might be still imprisoned, injured, or…or dead…”

“Oh, Éirinne.” He threw back his head, laughing. The sound filled the room, filling her with unease. His eyes met her own and she nearly stepped back at the sense of danger. “I have no reason to lie. She means nothing to me. Her hatred, her desire for vengeance, mean even less to me than yours.”

At these words he turned to leave the room, almost running into Christopher.

“FINALLY! Erin, I’ve been looking for y…” The golden-eyed young man trailed off as he stopped in front Roderick. His face paling, he sketched an elaborate bow. “Pardon me, General.”

Her father frowned, stepping back away from him as if wary of being too close. “Be more careful in the future.”

With that, he was gone, and Erin could breathe once again.

“Well, at least you’re good for something!” Gerald grinned, although the expression was strained. “Driving away nuisances like General Roderick.”

Christopher shook his head, looking offended. “I didn’t drive him away! He was already leaving.” Hesitating, he took a step towards Erin, who stared impassively back at him.

“Erin, can we talk alo…”

“No.” Her answer was short, she turned away from him to face the window. Undeterred, Christopher stepped forward again.”

“I just need to…”

“I cannot tell you how very little I care for what you want or need to do.” Her gaze met his, and Erin didn’t bother to hide her rage. “Leave me alone, and you can still leave in one piece.”

“…” A silence came over the room. Gerald stood at Erin’s side, arms crossed. He didn’t comment but his posture made it clear he supported Erin’s words.  Finally, Christopher sighed.

“FINE.” He threw up his hands. “Just bury your head in the sand, try to pretend the world isn’t ending. I’m trying to save it, but you are so wrapped up in hating me, that you can’t see it!” His face for once did not hold his pleasant, masklike smile but a snarl of frustration. “You know what? Forget it! I’m tired of all of this. You can come crawling back to me when you regret it, and hopefully it won’t be too late. ”

He turned to walk out, but paused to say one last thing.

“How could you be so different from your mother?!”

And with that he was gone.

Erin felt her head spin, and unsteady, sat down, clutching the edge of the window for support. The seat cushion underneath her began tearing, the wood groaning under the strain as her poorly controlled magic bent it away from her. The spider web cracks deepened on the window, the frame warping around it.

“Erin, are you okay?!”

After a long, uncomfortable pause, Erin looked up at Gerald, trying to take deep breaths, to control her emotions, her magic.

“How does Christopher know my mother?”

[yuzukult]

candy stars || baekhyun & reader

title: candy stars pairing: reader x baekhyun genre: romance, soulmate!au words: ~5k+ prompt: soulmates unlock one of the five senses for people, some finally get the opportunity to feel, to see, to taste, to hear, or to smell. but what if you never find yours? notes: i decided i would make a soulmate story for each member of exo!! all stemming from a similar universe as city lights & under the moonlight. :) 

The wind that hits your face is brisk, the trademark characteristic for the November air, tinting your cheeks pink, pink like the juices of strawberries that you bite into, dripping onto your palms and sliding down your arms. But the pinks don’t signify the same thing— your cheeks are stained like a winter heather, growing in the colder months and bringing the only color in a garden with a white blanket that drapes over, and the strawberries are just a reminder of the warmer days, something that seems so out of reach.

Someone without a soulmate might lack this quality— to be able to see these shades or feel the changes of weather. But those senses weren’t absent from your life, but rather the taste of the strawberry, the sweetness that it spews and bursts on your tongue. Instead, there’s nothing. Emptiness is what fills you, without the understanding of what sugar is and what people mean when they crave the treats or when there’s a comparison to a love that’s like confectionery.

Cups filled with hot chocolate steams out from the covers, the scent saturating your nose. You knew what it smelled like, the sweetness, but once bringing the warm liquid to your lips, the expectations for the taste dissipates.

“You sure you don’t want to try some?” Chanyeol asks, lifting up the styrofoam cup in his hand, offering some of the delicious goodness to you. “It tastes good.”

“I assume that it tastes good. Did you already forget? I don’t know what sweet is, Chanyeol.” Rolling your eyes at the older male, you stuff your hands into the pockets of your puffy jacket. “You only have one younger sister and you don’t even remember what qualities she’s lacking?”

“Other than the fact you have no soul and you’re lacking the quality of being a decently nice person—“

You shove your older sibling as he winces, hand trying to stabilize the drink but fails, some spilling out. “Hey!”

“If you maybe weren’t so rude—“

“Are you two really fighting again?” A familiar voice chimes in, snapping both of your heads in the direction of the melodic sound.

There he stands, handsome as ever, with his amber locks flowing in the route of the breeze. Hearing his voice again brought chills down your spine, warming your claimed cold heart, causing you to swallow. “Baekhyun, you’re back.” He’s gifting you with his soft smiles, so beautiful that if it were awarded for the impact it brings into a room, he’d win.

“As per requested by two out of the three Park siblings, I am here. You wanted me in Seoul and you got me, so, what did the two of you have in store for me?”

Baekhyun was always Chanyeol’s best friend, from beginning to end, hopefully. They’d have each other’s backs like the friendship between two main characters of a sitcom, constantly glued at each other’s sides until University hit. Baekhyun decided to go out of his comfort zone, residing somewhere in the outskirts of the countryside. Chanyeol stayed near home, or your difficult mother would be left alone with you after your eldest sister eloped with her now husband.

There was always something inside of you that had crushed on Baekhyun, but you knew that being Chanyeol’s little sister meant it was off limits. Nonetheless, you kept your focus on finding your soulmate instead, eager to find sweetness on your tongue.

“Should we head out for a quick bite?” Baekhyun suggests, nuzzling his nose into the scarf that wraps around his neck cozily. “We can catch up and plan everything there.”

The two of you agree, following Baekhyun whilst he raves about a cafe that he encountered over yelp and instagram one day. He states, “it’ll make you rethink what desserts you actually like,” and you want to remind him that you can’t taste sweets, but the eager expression on his face halts you from doing so.

Entering in the cafe, the bell rings simultaneously as the door opens in invitation. The aroma of the baked goods inundated your sense of smell to that point you can almost feel yourself relishing in the flavors until you come back to reality, recollecting that it doesn’t exist for you. Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s expressions were opposite from yours, inhibiting pure bliss.

“Ah, I totally forgot. My little sister here, the party pooper, doesn’t have a sense of taste.” Chanyeol glances over at you, nose and cheeks red from the harsh winter weather, gaze hinting for desperate approval. “Are you okay with eating here?”

“Well, we’re already here, aren’t we?”

“We could always go for something else, if you want. Is it just taste in general or a flavor?” Baekhyun jumps in, eyes wary. “There’s a pizza place next door if you’d prefer.”

“No,” You shake your head in response, bouncing on the balls of your feet in order to gain some warmth. “We can eat here. I can’t taste sugary things. You guys seem like you want to try it, and I want to enjoy the looks on your faces.”

“What’d you order?” You and Chanyeol are seated beside each other, previously waiting patiently for Baekhyun to bring the tray of drinks and pastries. Your mouth waters at how beautifully crafted they are and the pleasant odor that fills the room.

“I got the famous strawberry smoothies for the both of us,” He says, sitting across from the two of you, placing the glass cups onto the table. “And for you,” he then gestures at the dark iced liquid that drips in condensation in your view, “iced americano. It’s bitter, but I figured you’d at least be able to enjoy something rather than... nothing.”

On the tray sits several different types of pastries, over salivating the mouths to those who have a sweet tooth. In the midst of the conversation, Chanyeol and Baekhyun discussed the ideas of where to go for their annual winter trip, and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes all over Baekhyun.

He’s aged since you’ve last seen him— he’s grown into those baby cheeks of his, well, kind of, but he has upgraded from cute to handsome. After he’d slip off his thick camel trench coat and hangs it over the back of his chair, you’d become aware of how even a plain black t-shirt is snug on his frame and the sight of him makes you breathless. Baekhyun was the epitome of a character in a film where he’s the main character’s brother’s best friend that is just a little too old for you, yet a guy everyone falls for.

In this film— he’s your brother’s best friend who’s overly kind, shooting warm smiles your way, and for some odd reason, always there whenever you need him the most. Baekhyun was a dream, a dream that would never come true, and you knew this because being near him never unlocked your sense of sweetness. There was a bit of disappointment when you came to that recognition but nonetheless, he was the candy on the highest shelf you’d come to admire, desiring it but knowing it was out of reach.

“What do you think of the raspberry croissant?”

“Who would’ve thought that people would put raspberry and croissant together? This is... truly an art.”

A light hearted laugh escapes from Baekhyun’s grin, shaking his head at your brother’s response. “Dude, it’s just raspberry jam and a croissant, I’m sure plenty of places have it. I’m talking about how they made this— like, how soft yet crispy it is and the jam alone is just...” fingers pointed and pressed together in his hands, he gives it a chef’s kiss, “... perfection.”

Tearing a piece of the pastry off from Chanyeol’s hand as your brother reacts with a whimper, he holds it by your mouth with his own open, gesturing you to do the same. “Open up.”

“Why?” You question, raising a brow. “Because, even though you can’t taste it doesn’t mean it hurts to try. Open wide.”

You think it’s pointless, Baekhyun’s pursuit, but you can never say no to him so you comply, mouth slightly agape as he pushes the pastry in between your lips.

And for a moment, you almost thought you tasted something new.

Your taste buds tingle, sparking something within before the sweetness disappeared, causing your heart to race. The two men watched you in complexity as you grabbed Chanyeol’s drink, attempting to regain that feeling again.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “Did it have a funny taste?”

Sipping the smoothie through the straw, your expectations disappeared once again when the only outcome of it was the cold liquid going down your throat. “I... swore I was able to taste the sweetness.”

“How do you know that it was sweet?”

“It’s the only flavor I’ve never had before.”

“Oh please,” Chanyeol interjects, cheeks full of the pastry. “If you could taste that sense right now, that would mean Baekhyun is your soulmate. That could never happen!”

Walking down the streets of Seoul, Chanyeol stops by a shop, actively looking for a gift for his lovely girlfriend, leaving you and Baekhyun standing by the exit of the store, waiting patiently.

“Speaking of... I never knew what quality you lacked for not meeting your soulmate. What is it, Baek?” He hums for a moment, playing with some of the knick knacks that sit on the shop shelves. “I can’t smell.”

“Wait— you can’t smell? At all?”

He shakes his head, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his trench coat. “Nope, nothing. That’s why I wear a shit ton of deodorant and try to go easy on the cologne. I can’t tell what’s too much.” How could Baekhyun not be able to smell? He loved food— always moaning at what you assumed was the pleasant aromas that filled the room, but now when you think about it, you never noticed how he never talked about the scent of things.

“But... you always smell so good,” You blurt, cheeks flushing crimson when you realize what you said. “I mean... you smell good whenever you walk by and I get a whiff of you.”

He chuckles, voice smooth and thick like honey, music to your ears. “Do I? I never knew what ‘natural smell’ I had. I heard people have it but I’ve never been able to actually... you know, experience that.”

Your brother had a majorly contrasting experience compared to you and Baekhyun— he didn’t lack any of his senses. In fact, he’s part of the portion of the population that possessed a marking, resembling one that his own soulmate has. 

Chanyeol and Baekhyun were a textbook example of the outcomes of finding your soulmate. Chanyeol got to meet his, and despite the fact he rejected the belief that she truly was his mate, he eventually caved and fell in love with her. However, he never lacked anything. He just had a marking in resemblance to hers— the only identification he had to determine if she was his soulmate. But Baekhyun was the same age as your brother and hadn’t even gone close to meeting his. There were people who never got to meet their ‘the one’ but found love elsewhere, close in comparison. It wasn’t impossible to fall in love with someone who isn’t your mate, but who wouldn’t want to meet their soulmate?

“We found your soulmate.”

“What?”

You think, maybe it was a good idea you signed up for that research group on the flier that hung in the public bathroom stall of your university with a link to their website. If this was legitimately your soulmate, a session on the toilet was the beginning of how you found the true love of your life.

“Park...” The worker on the other line hesitated, reading what you assume is on the piece of paper resting in front of her before she says your name. “We are about 95% sure this person is your soulmate. But the problem is... he’s on his deathbed.”

“Excuse me?” Death bed? What did she mean? You’d just found out that someone knows who your soulmate is and they’re already telling you that he’s dying? “He’s... sick?”

“Yes,” she says, voice filled with concern and empathy. “It’s actually how we found out. His medical records are in the system, and we tried to match it to what was in your DNA from the research study you signed up for, and the soulmate component matched.”

You’re quiet for a moment, unsure how to respond with so much information being thrown at you. It was difficult to absorb. “So... now what? I lose a soulmate?”

“Well... we suggest you to at least meet him. Spend his last moments with him, and get to know who he is. He lacks the sense of taste for sweetness too, you know. Maybe... you both can get to experience it for the first and last time.”

First and last. All your life, you thought meeting your soulmate would lead you to the direction of feeling fulfilled— filled with awakened taste buds, traveling the world and being able to eat foods that you’d never been able to have before.

But that’s gone. All of that is gone. Your soulmate apparently only has 2 months left to live. You’d have to come to terms that once those two months are up, you really won’t be able to do those things again.

“How are you feeling?” Baekhyun asks, sitting on the stool by your kitchen island, fingers tapping anxiously against the granite top. He never fails to hop on the first train back to Seoul when you needed someone by your side. “You’re supposed to go meet him at the hospital this afternoon, right?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, drinking the tea that Chanyeol had finished brewing for you, deciding that he would be gentler with you today after finding out the news. “I was told he was on the verge of death the other day, but they were able to pull him out before they lost him. But after that, he told the doctors and nurses he didn’t want to be saved anymore. So... he has two months left.”

“Even when they told him they found his soulmate?” You nod slowly, tiredness evident in your eyes. “I guess it isn’t worth fighting anymore. How can I blame him though? He’s been sick for years. I can only imagine the pain and suffering he has been through.”

“Uh, hi.” You choke up after knocking on the window of the door quietly. “I’m.. uh,”

“My soulmate,” The man finishes, voice hoarse. He sounds gentle and kind, but his face shone exhaustion and ache. “I’m happy you decided you wanted to meet me, in spite of the selfish decision I made.”

“It’s okay to be selfish,” You retort, gifts in hand as you approach to the side of his bed. “You’ve been suffering for so long.”

“If only I met you sooner,” He says with a soft smile, and just the sight alone made it feel like all your worries had gone away. He’s beautiful, regardless of the state he’s in, and you could only imagine what he looked like when he was up and going. Skin pale as ice and lips chapped from the treatments, he looks cold and frozen, but right when he tugged the edges of his mouth upwards for you, you’re the one who melts. “Then there would’ve been something worth fighting for. Right now, it’s too unbearable. I hope you forgive me—“

“Don’t say that,” you quickly interject, taking the seat next to him. “I could never hate you. You’re my soulmate, how could I?”

“You won’t get to taste the sweetness again when I go.” He says shakily, eyes tearing up as you lean over to swipe your thumb against the skin of his cheek, the wetness smearing away, “It’s okay. I get to try it just for a little bit, and that’s all that matters. I got to see you, I got to taste the flavor that people describe good things as. When you are finally at peace, I go back to where I was before, yes, but I got to meet you and that makes it all worthwhile.”

You two of you spent almost everyday together. Eventually, he officially introduces himself as Cha Eunwoo, just a year older than yourself. He shares stories about how he used to be a rock climber, hands full of calluses to prove it, before he learns he has leukemia. He mentions how he developed the symptoms about a year ago, when the thing he loved the most became a chore— bones weak and tired, constantly getting chills and fevers occurring. He’d occasionally go climbing, despite his fatigue, and he’d find himself bruising easily compared to initially. Deciding to finally go to the doctor, albeit his efforts to avoid them by ditching his yearly visits, he’d been diagnosed with the cancer, his future deteriorating before his eyes.

You’d bring sweets for him almost daily, along with a meal. Whether lunch or dinner, you made sure your presence was known. Eunwoo deserved the best few months of his life, and knowing him for just a week made you realized how much of an impact he had on your life.

More than the first time the both of you try sweets.

“Let’s try it at the same time.”

“On the count of three?”

Both holding a cupcake in hand, wax paper already peeled off, you eye each other mischievously, ready to take your first bites of the dessert.

“One,” He says teasingly, waiting for you to continue.

“Two,” You continue onto his antics, a grin stretched across your face.

“Three!” With that and mouths open wide, as a couple, you chomp on the delight, eyes almost rolling to the back of your heads.

Chocolate cupcake with buttercream frosting— a classic that Chanyeol suggested— pretty much sparking inner fireworks on your tongue. You’d never experienced this feeling before; it had been a different kind of bliss, one you never knew you were missing out on. You finally understand why Chanyeol and Baekhyun were raving about the café you visited the other day; your brother texting his group chat of friends that they have to come here next time. With such a feeling from eating a cupcake from a franchise grocery store and obtaining this deep of a sensation— you could only imagine trying that café again.

“Holy fuck,” Eunwoo curses, bulging eyes and remains of the baked good on his face that exasperates a laugh from you. “That shit... is fucking good.” There’s a twinkle in his eyes that you catch, and your heart clenches at the sight.

You get why people compare their loved ones to sweets. How when old couples call their significant others “sweetheart” or “sweetie.” Or when Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s faces lit up in glee at the thought of inhaling those baked goods at that café a couple months ago, mouths watering at the thought of their tongues tasting the sweetness of the desserts. It was a feeling you never thought you’d long for until now.

Eunwoo was sweet, you think to yourself. His hair is dark as the chocolate in the cupcake, and his voice sounds as sugary and smooth as the frosting. The first bite of the common baked good is a reminder of how addicting being with Eunwoo is, like the taste of the cupcake and how you can’t seem to get enough of it. Your eyes trail to his lips— so plump and pink, just like strawberries and you’re suddenly curious on what the fruit tastes like, but your mind is flooded with the thought of how his lips tasted like. 

Bold is what you’re feeling today. You figure that if this was your last shot to make a move on him, you’d regret it later. And life... Well life is always full of regrets, but you didn’t want this to be one of them.

Seated on the edge of his hospital bed, his brows are raised questioning at the shift of atmosphere. “What is it?”

“I just... don’t move.” Pushing your weight on your arm that rests by his leg, you lean in, eyes fluttering shut since pressing your lips gingerly onto his.

Eunwoo didn’t just taste sweet, Eunwoo was sweet. 

Reality hits hard, even if you already know what the future holds. 

Your soulmate passes peacefully in his sleep a month ago, and the thought of him disappearing from your life is a constant indication that the nightmare was your reality. The memories of Eunwoo are embedded into your head, his face reoccurring in your dreams only made you mourn harder.

“Are you sure you’re fine? Your drink is melting.” A voice interrupts your thoughts.

Baekhyun invites you out for coffee, ordering you an iced americano like he did last time. It’s just the two of you for this occasion, and you don’t question the absence of your older brother from your mind being fogged up of the loss of Eunwoo.

“I’m... holding up. I’ll be okay later,” You assure the older male, attempting to pull the edges of your mouth into a smile. It’s harder to showcase your jubilance lately but thankfully Baekhyun doesn’t probe you to. “Thanks for getting this for me, by the way. I guess I’m still trying to get used to the fact I can’t enjoy dessert beverages anymore.”

He shrugs slightly in response, opening the plastic packaging off his blueberry muffin. “I know you’re going through a lot, Eunwoo sounded like a nice guy and I wish I could’ve met him. But... he’d want you to keep living your life. Don’t stop yourself from doing the things you want to do because you met him and he’s gone now.”

“It just feels... so wrong to do things without him because he’s my soulmate.”

“Well, I can almost guarantee that Eunwoo would be pissed if you weren’t at least trying to put yourself in a good mood.”

He... wasn’t wrong, but you’d never tell Baekhyun that he was right about anything. Maybe you’d try— just a little more for Eunwoo. You got to meet him, learn who he was as a person, and even though Baekhyun never met the guy, his observation and assumption of him was spot on. Straightening your slouching back in the seat, you lean over to take a sip of your drink, eyeing his selection off the menu.

Changing the topic at the sight of his drink, you burst out, “What... the hell did you even order?”

Baekhyun hums for a moment, lips pursed in thought. “I think this is a vanilla, caramel, java chip frap.”

“What?” He laughs at your distorted facial expression, peeling the plastic off the straw fore poking it into the top of the drink. Peculiarly, he brings the cup to your lips. “Try it yourself.”

“Baekhyun, what’s the point of trying—“

“I said try it, Park. Give it a shot.” Watching him doubtfully as you tilt your body toward his offering, your mouth opens in invitation as he brings the drink closer to you. Sucking on the straw for a brief moment, it hits.

It hits. 

The drink wasn’t only cold— it was sweet. 

“Is this— but how? This is so sweet, Baekhyun!” Taking a moment to let the taste sink in, your face winces in realization at how sweet it is. “Baek, why is this so sweet, I swear that just that one sip alone could give me diabetes.”

He watches you attentively, placing the cup back onto the table. “You taste it, right? You actually taste it?”

“Yeah, I do. But how? When Eunwoo passed, the taste disappeared. I thought I’d never experienced it again... unless...”

There’s silence between the two of you. Thoughts started to flood your head; what did this mean? Why did you suddenly get the taste back? Eunwoo was gone, and you were absolutely sure of it because you attended his open casket funeral. And why was Baekhyun so persistent with you trying sweets?

“I know this sounds weird, but there’s a theory.” Reclining in his seat, he takes in a deep breath before wiping his hands on a nearby napkin. “I’ve read somewhere that there are more than one soulmates to a person, and that possibly when one passes, it means the opportunity to meet your next one is... well, possible.” You don’t say anything but gesture your head for him to continue.

“My soulmate passed too. I never got to meet her but I found out that she passed because I joined that research group when you told me about it. They informed me that they found her in the system, but she had gotten into a car accident when she was young. I honestly thought I’d never get to smell anything— ever.” Pausing for a moment, he tightens his lips at the memory of a couple months ago. “Then... remember when we were here last time and you thought you could taste that raspberry croissant? That same exact moment, I actually... smelled that. My sense of smell was so strong in fact that I could smell Chanyeol’s fart that he passed moments after.”

“What are you saying?” You blurt.

“I’m saying, that moment we got our senses might be that very moment Eunwoo almost died.”

You recall the conversation you had with the woman on the other line when she delivered the news that they had found your soulmate. How Eunwoo was barely holding on, and days before he was on the verge of death before the nurses were able to save him. 

“It’s crazy, I know. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And honestly, I couldn’t even stop thinking about you. Hearing Chanyeol constantly tell me about how you’re with Eunwoo almost everyday pretty much broke me, but I know that he’s biologically your soulmate, so what am I supposed to do?”

Did... Baekhyun just confess?

Unsure of what to say to his words, you abruptly grab his drink again, startling him as you slurp aggressively. Sweet, cold, sweet. It was disgusting, you had to admit, with all these flavors in one drink, but there was no denying how in awe you were that you could even taste it. 

“Baekhyun, this is disgusting.”

“I honestly only picked that drink because I wanted to test the waters.”

And with that, he was able to bring your lips into a beaming smile for the first time since Eunwoo’s death.

The thought of your brother’s cool best friend falling in love with you sounds like a cliche, something you never thought yourself could be reality. After meeting Eunwoo, it felt like the end, something that most people who lose the love of their lives feel, as though there isn’t a purpose anymore. But hearing Baekhyun pour his heart out to you, even knowing he had to suck up his feelings for you when he finds out you’ve met your soulmate, makes you believe again. Believe that there’s more to life, even when your mate is gone, and it’s worthwhile to keep exploring.

And although your wishes were to explore with Eunwoo, exploring with Baekhyun sounded just as good. 

Baekhyun wouldn’t replace Eunwoo, is what you learn. He’d occupy another part of your heart, loving you the way that Eunwoo would have, and honoring his previous role in your life.

“Chanyeol, you put way too much sugar in that.”

“I’m starting to miss when you didn’t meet your soulmate.” Your brother grimaces, swatting you away with his spatula. He was attempting to recreate your mom’s kimchi jjigae, which you tried to tell him that she doesn’t even put sugar in it, to which he argues that you’re not a professional in tasting things. “I also miss when Baekhyun was mine.”

You fail to notice Baekhyun’s feelings for you over time— his effort to travel from the countryside to come see you on occasion during his college years and incessantly telling Chanyeol to invite his little sister when he really didn’t want to. Even attending family gatherings as Chanyeol’s guest, when really he wanted to charm your parents in case he’d ever get the chance to win your heart one day. Chanyeol wasn’t supportive of Baekhyun’s feelings for you only because he didn’t want him to interfere with the opportunity to meet your soulmate— only late to find out that Baekhyun is your soulmate.

“Baekhyun is still yours, you idiot, or else we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Are you telling me that you don’t want to spend time with your only brother?”

“Honestly, Yeol, I rather not—“

“Whoa whoa whoa, what’s going on here? Are the Park siblings fighting yet again?” As usual, Baekhyun enters into the kitchen, handsome as ever dressed in a simple basic t-shirt still hitches your breath. He slides his arm underneath yours, snaking it around your waist to pull into his embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I thought we discussed not having a fist fight with Chanyeol this weekend and trying to be civil.”

Squinting your eyes at the taller male, you scrunch your nose despite softening in the warmth of Baekhyun. “I’m trying. But Yeol here isn’t great at compromising.”

“I told you. All you have to do is return Baek to me and we’re all good.”

“You have a girlfriend! Why are you trying to steal my boyfriend from me? Don’t you get enough love from her?”

“I want Baek’s love.”

“There’s enough love to go around, stop fighting!” In contempt of his tone, he was amused. His ego must be inflating that very moment. Chanyeol frowns, turning away to the sink to dispose of his utensils.

Precipitously, Baekhyun swings his head to face you, a mischievous smirk on his face. “What?” You furrow your brows questioningly before he surprisingly plants a kiss on your lips.

“Nothing... you just smell really good.”

And Baekhyun... tasted sweet like honey. 

Baekhyun is sweet.

[alexiessan]

Never alone - Chapter Two - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Hello! Faster than ever before, I present you the second chapter of Never Alone!

I chose to not describe Marinette with her clothes or hairstyle so that you can imagine her as you want! In my mind, since she's a fashion designer, I imagine her always changing her clothes and very fashionable. I don't see her with her pigtails either. But it's up to you as to how you see her!

Also, I'm French, so if there are any grammatical mistakes, do not hesitate to tell me so I can come back and correct them!

Two months in the new school year, and Marinette was already exhausted. While she had a very calm summer filled with outings with her friends, she was now drowning in work. Jagged wanted her to design his newest album cover, and Clara Nightingale has asked for a new outfit for a music video.

 At school, Alya and Marinette were doing their best to find a good trip for the end of the year. The school had a decent amount of money that was set aside specifically for their class trip, but they would need to organize an event or two if they wanted to go somewhere outside of Europe. They were lucky enough that their class’ trip was set for their first year of high school: Mrs. Mendelieiv’s class’ trip was set for the next year, right before the first set of exams for the baccalaureat. 

 Along with all that, there was also her duty as Ladybug. Hawkmoth has been relatively calm during the summer, but as soon as school started again in September, he released his akumas again.

 Except, now, they were more brutal than ever before.

 Ladybug cursed as the Akuma managed to deeply cut her on her left side. She watched as Chat jumped in as she collapsed on the roof they were battling. True to his promise, Chat took his job more seriously and only joked during patrols now. He also stopped to jump mindlessly in front of her to save her from a hit and actually tried to get both of them out of the way.

 The Akuma they were fighting was a dangerous one. His arm has been transformed into two big shears, and they hurt like hell.

 Ladybug watched with fascination as her hand was tainted with her own blood. She couldn’t remember if an Akuma had hurt her that much before… She knew for sure that she was bleeding too heavily and she was getting a bit dizzy. They would need to end the fight very soon.

 Standing up, she took advantage of the distraction Chat provided to trip the Akuma with her yoyo, succeeding in tripping him. Quickly, Chat snatched the man’s bow and used cataclysm on it.

 As she cleansed the Akuma and watched the light heal Paris and herself as she cast the cure, the red-clothed superhero couldn’t help but think it was time to contact the Justice League again.

 Back when they got their miraculous, she and Chat had contacted the Justice League of Europe to ask for help. They were just teenagers without any training entrusted to protect a whole city as big as Paris, and it was clear to them they couldn’t possibly do that alone.

 The person they had talked to at the moment had listened to them, took note and told them they would come back to them after informing the heroes of the issue in Paris. It was a month later that one of the heroes contacted them, informing them they would not intervene in Paris, as they have been doing a good job up until now and the miraculous cure healed everyone and repaired everything. They then give them words of encouragement before they cut the connection.

 Ladybug had then wanted to contact the Justice League of America before remembering they wouldn’t be able to do anything as France was certainly not under their jurisdiction. 

 And thus, there they were, still two untrained teenagers, acting on instinct against people with magic powers.

 Great.

 She let Chat take care of the victim, still feeling the pain on her left side, even though it was healed and there was not a trace of blood left on her person.

 “Are you ok?”

 Ladybug watched as the victim was taken care of by some policemen and turned her attention to her partner.

 “I’m fine Chat. Sorry I had to let you handle everything.”

 “Hey, you were hurt and losing a lot of blood. It’s a wonder you could even stand up afterward.”

 The girl smiled. “Should we try to contact the JLE again?”

 Chat Noir sighed. “Even though they won’t intervene, they are watching closely what’s happening here. If they haven’t decided to step in yet, contacting them won’t change anything LB.”

 Ladybug sighed. “You’re right. Of course. I should go Chat, I’m about to transform back.”

 “Sure thing. I’ll see you later, then.”

                                                                                               Back in her room, Marinette winced as she sat down on her bed.

 “Are you really ok Marinette?”

 Tikki was looking at her with her big, wide blue eyes. She was obviously worried.

 “I’m fine, just a bit sore. I’m lucky that the cure healed me, but I think I’ll still feel the pain for a few days.”

 While the cure healed her, the pain stayed for some time after, varying on the severity of the injury. Since her latest injure was pretty severe, it would hurt for a little while.

 “Alright, I still have some homework to do for tomorrow. You should eat something and go to sleep Tikki, you must be tired after today. There should be a cookie or two on my desk.”

 The kwami looked at her for a moment before flying over her desk, knowing it was useless to insist and there wasn’t anything she could do anyway. Even if she wished she could take Marinette’s pain away.  

                      “Alright girl, you said you found something for the trip?”

 It was early December now, and Marinette had asked Alya to join her in the school library to discuss the trip. The fashion designer took the laptop out of her bag and opened it to show her what she found.

 “So, you know how the trip also has to be educational? This is the Wayne Career Program. It’s designed for high school students. Each one of us would shadow someone in the firm as a sort of internship to learn about different professions.”

 “Putain, girl! That’s amazing. Wayne Enterprises have a lot of different sectors. I could totally work with the PR team if we can manage to secure a trip there. Plus it’s in Gotham, in America!”

 Alya literally squealed at the idea of traveling overseas.

 “Yeah, I’m a bit worried about that actually. You know it’s not really the safest place on Earth.”

 And what an understatement that was. Gotham was probably the city with the most crimes in the world. It would be a miracle if the school allowed them to go. But then again, the school board would do anything to up their reputation and a class winning an internship at WE… The principal would boast about it years after they had all graduated.

 “There is an essay we have to write to apply. I suggest we write it before we present the idea to Ms. Bustier. We also need to prepare arguments for her and the school board.”

 “No problem girl, I already have tons of arguments there.” The reporter showed her her notebook where there were two pages filled with arguments. The class president nodded, those were really good. She could really rely on her friend.

 “Well, that was quick. Those should be enough to convince them. On to the essay, then. ‘How do you think you can change the world?’”

 They spent hours after that, taking notes and making several drafts of the essay. It took them a week to have the actual final product and when they handed it to Ms. Bustier, she was delighted. It was decided they wouldn’t announce the destination of the trip to the class until they were sure it could be a possibility.

 Alya and Marinette had dropped hints about the destination though, to see if the class would actually like to go to Gotham.

 After a week or so, they knew they had chosen well.

 On Marinette’s birthday, on the 16th of December, after lunch where the whole class sang Happy birthday to her, the class president and the class deputy had a meeting with the principal and the board of the school.

 It was tough to convince them, and the meeting actually lasted the whole afternoon, but at the end of the day, they had all signed the papers that confirmed that the trip would happen in Gotham, should the two girls won the contest. They even agreed to unfreeze some more funds for it. This program would really look good on the school’s record. 

 It was with a bright smile that they returned to class ten minutes before the end of the day bell and announced to everyone that the trip to Gotham has been confirmed. Using the classroom’s computer, the whole class witness as the two girls applied to the Wayne Career Program.

 Now, all they had to do was wait for an answer. 

                                                                                 Life after that was a bit calmer for Marinette, if you didn’t count the Akumas. She worried that they were more and more violent, and more often than not, she had lingering pain from injuries she got at Ladybug.

 But life was good. Lila had even stopped lying and was herself. Even if it means that she wasn’t very kind to anyone, even mocking all of them at times, the class would just scoff and roll their eyes at her antics. The designer still wouldn’t talk to her, but the atmosphere in the class was lighter than the previous year, and for that Marinette was grateful.

 They were all at an outdoor ice rink at the end of January when Marinette’s phone beeped with a notification. 

 “Oh fucking shit, guys!”

 It caught everyone’s attention as the tiny Dupain-Cheng was not one to curse like that.

 “I just got an email for Mr. Wayne’s secretary! Our class is among the nine others to have won the contest! We are going to Gotham in May!”

 Everyone cheered at that, hugging each other and even going as far as carrying Marinette and Alya around, as it was their doing.

 “America, here we come!” shouted Kim.

 “You do realize that you will have to work extra hard on your English, right?” teased Max.

 “Oh, shit.”

 Everyone laughed at that, but it was agreed among themselves and their English teacher that they would all stay for an hour and a half after school to learn the language, up until their trip.

 “I can’t wait to see Gotham’s heroes in action!” squealed Alya.

 “Aren’t they vigilantes?” asked Mylène.

 “Same thing!”

 “Not quite, babe.” grinned Nino.

 Even Lila was smiling with them, and it was huge progress in their book.

 Marinette smiled, “We’ll be there for two weeks. The first week, we’ll be visiting around, and the second week will be dedicated to our internships. I will have to send a list of all our careers of interest to Mr. Wayne’s secretary, so they can organize who we will be shadowing. So, I’ll need you to send me those pieces of information this weekend, so I can send it on Monday, okay?”

 “Roger that, boss.”

 As Alya took her hand to skate with her around the rink, the baker’s daughter couldn’t help the huge smile on her lips. A year ago, there was a lot of tension in the class, and here they were, all laughing together and talking excitedly about the upcoming trip that their class president and deputy won them.

 She could hear Rose talking excitedly about the things she wanted to see in Gotham. She watched as Kim challenged Alix on God knows what and laughed as Max stated that he had a two-percent chance of winning that bet. She smiled as Adrien, with them at an outing for once, fell on his butt and Nino laughed as he helped him up. She even grinned as she watched Lila having a conversation with Nathaniel without being mean or mocking him once.

 She had thought a year before that Lila would never change, but she was wrong. And she was happy that she had been, because even though Lila wasn’t very nice, well, all her classmates were kind enough to make up for it.

 Yeah, Marinette thought with a smile, life was good. And she had a feeling that it would be even better.

Tag list: 

@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant

[pokenimagines]

So, this is a request for someone over on my discord. Here you go, Timelock! Also, Gatoraid sponsor me! I mentioned you like five times in this fic!

Discord - Request Info - Ko-Fi

Raihan: Drunken Stands

Warning: Slight NSFW Elements but not really? Waking up after a one-night stand and being hella hungover. That’s about it.

Your head was pounding, and you came to a conclusion, laying in the oddly comfortable and spacious bed, that you definitely overdid it a bit last night. You groaned as you rolled over, hiding under the covers from the sunlight that was threatening your eyelids. You didn’t want to deal with the day yet. You just wanted to continue sleeping this thing off until you felt well enough to get up and get some water and pain killers.

That was when you felt it. The movement, in your bed, early morning. You slowly opened your eyes, not remembering letting any of your pokemon out last night, but then again, you barely remembered the previous night anyways. As you opened up, you noticed the dark sheets of the bed and remembered how soft it was. That was your rude awakening to this not being your bed. Your bed wasn’t that soft, specious, or that exact shade of black now that you recalled.

You groaned a bit as you shifted, and the soreness you felt was the final indicator of exactly how your night officially ended. You would regret this at a later time. Hangover be damned; you needed to wake up and get the hell out of this dudes house. You didn’t know where you were, and the slight outline of a body through the blurriness of your eyes under the covers wasn’t helping you much.

You slowly began sitting up, fighting back nausea as you rubbed your eyes. You were now out from under the covers and able to see exactly who you managed to sleep with. You turned your head and had to stop for a moment. You were now staring in tired, almost dead to the world, teal eyes. This…this was not good. This man…the one who’s staring at you now in just as much shock as you were, was your friend. Raihan. Also known at the dragon type gym leader over in Galar.

“…Rai…?” You asked, still mentally screaming that you drunkenly hooked up with one of your best friends last night. You knew you had gone to the bar with him and a few other gym leaders, but to think you’d end up going home together. You’d need to piece all this in your mind together. He looked just as mortified and hungover as you did. You knew for a fact that he definitely was in the same boat of ‘How the hell did this happen?’.

“Wha…fuck…” Raihan groaned, moving his head into the pillows as you laid your head back down. On the upside to all this, since you knew the guy pretty well, you were no longer in a hurry to escape from this bed. Your hungover self could have a small moment to rest again.

“Ya, I know…I know…think Leon knows what happened last night?” You manage to get out, still feeling like absolute ponyta shit. Raihan was slowly reaching for his phone, not even lifting his head from the pillow as he felt around for it. Once his hand found it, he slowly brought it over and turned his head, unlocking it and grimacing from the light, “Dude…you look like shit.” You finally laughed out, regretting the movement as it made your head spin.

“So do you…now hush. I’m looking through my photos.” Raihan said, raising a hand to put one finger of your mouth so you wouldn’t say anything else. You huffed as you swatted it away as you looked over at him.

“While you do that, I’m getting us some water and medicine. Still in the same spots as usual?” You asked him, finally sitting up again. You needed to get something done to work on getting this hangover under control.

“Ya, grab me a Gatorade as well? It’s in the fridge. You can have one, too.” He said as you slowly stood up and noticed you were still butt as naked. You looked at the ground, not even seeing your clothes. Where the hell did they start coming off? You shrugged as you wobbled to his closet and stole a shirt and some boxers from him. As you put them on, you caught him staring at you from the corner of your eye.

“Eyes to the phone, Rai. You don’t remember it, so you don’t get to look at it.” You joked as you threw the shirt on. You heard him mumble something as you left the room. It took maybe then minutes before you stumbled back in: toast, water, Gatorade, and some pain killers. You had a pot of coffee brewing as well. He happily grabbed a piece of the buttered toast, nibbling on it while drinking some Gatorade, his eyes still focused on his phone.

You sat back down next to him, leaning over to see. You saw several blurry photos of the night, you and him taking several selfies with one another and with some friends. A few had you guys kissing in them. They actually weren’t too shabby of photos in all honesty.

“You manage to find your clothes?” He asked, opening his messages and sending a text out to Leon. Probably seeing if he felt as shitty as you to did and if he remembered all that transpired.

“Well, my shoes were barely through the door and looks like the underwear came off in the kitchen. We had a wild ride…surprised we were coordinated enough to do that.” You said with a laugh, and you watched Raihan smile into the pillow before slowly sitting up.

“Do they need to be washed?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and letting out a yawn. You both still looked like shit, but the pain killers were at least kicking in by now.

“Already ahead of you. Both our clothes smelled like tequila and bad drink decisions. I don’t know what we were drinking last night, but apparently, it was over both of us.” You said with a laugh, leaning against the headboard and drinking some Gatorade.

“Tequila is only involved in bad drinking decisions. You never see someone talking about their crazy, wild night after having wine.” He said, the blanket falling over his chest. You couldn’t help but stare at his abs for a second, appreciating the beauty before you, before hands went over your eyes, “Hey, you don’t remember, so you don’t get to look.” He said, repeating your earlier words.

“I now see how cruel that was of me to say.” You joked as his hand came off. He was now smiling properly, and you felt your heart soar at the sight of him. How the hell did you manage to snag someone so hot at your best friend? Not to mention sleep with him. The man who you happened to have a bit of a crush on. You were snapped out of these thoughts as his phone vibrated. You leaned over and saw Leon basically wrote a novel, with horrible punctuation, might you add.

“Looks like the last thing he saw of us was me dragging your drunk ass into a taxi. He assumed I was taking you home. So much for that. In my defense, if I wasn’t so fucked up, I would’ve.” Raihan pointed out, and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t defend yourself, I know you’re not the asshole to take advantage of a drunk girl unless you ere equally as drunk. Let alone take advantage of a friend. So…what now?” You asked him, looking over. You were still a bit sore as he shifted, and you happened to see the exact reason why. Well, …that explained a lot. You watched him laugh as he covered himself up.

“Not ready for a round two right now, maybe later.” He joked as he ruffled your hair up a bit, “Also, I’m not sure. Never accidentally slept with a friend when shit-faced before.” He commented as he looked you over, “Did you want to try and forget it happened or…” He almost looked disappointed at the thought.

“Why forget it? That doesn’t make for a good story.” You winked as you finished the bottle and tossed it over at his trash can, cheering mentally as you made it despite your state, “Besides, you still need to buy me dinner now.” You said, and he looked confused.

“Oh, and please tell, why?” He asked that charming and sharp-toothed smirk was plastered on his face, the one that made tons of women over the region swoon.

“I’m a classy bitch, if you want to fuck me, you gotta buy me dinner first. We’re just doing it out of order this time.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the end of it.

“No fair, I don’t even remember it, and I still gotta pay. Rude.” He huffed at you. You couldn’t help but lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“If you’re a good boy, I’ll remind you why after dinner…or breakfast…or lunch?” You suggested, hoping you wouldn’t get turned down. You had one hell of a crush on this man after all, and if you guys already fucked, there wasn’t much else to lose. If he questioned it, you could say you still had some alcohol left in you.

“Okay, this seems like a much better trade-off…” He had stopped while looking at you, a bit unsure, “I need to ask though, is this the start of a friend with benefits kind of deal, or something more? I gotta make sure to have a clear indication. You’re my friend, and I don’t want to fuck this up.” He said, and you couldn’t help but blush at those words.

“I…let’s see where it takes us? I’m not sure either. Never did the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal, and honestly, I’d rather strive for something more, but if it ends up like that?” You said with a shrug. Raihan smiled as he threaded his fingers through your hair.

“That sounds good to me…I’ll be honest I’m hoping for something more as well. Right now, though…kinda just wanna lay back down and sleep.” He said finally. You raised one eyebrow, thinking on the coffee you were brewing…well, you could always have iced coffee later.

“Same…now lay down, you’re warm, and I’m using you as a pillow now.” You said, already laughing as he laid down with an arm out for you. Honestly…this morning wasn’t as bad as you initially thought when you woke up.

[msiopao]

The One with the Polaroids

pairing: jungkook x nobi

summary: whilst cleaning their closet, nobi stumbles upon a box that she thought she lost 5 years ago

to say the least, it was dirty.

ever since they moved in 2 years ago, the dorm hasn’t been properly cleaned because they were either too busy with touring or too lazy to do it. but it has gotten to the point where they actually were willing to clean everything. part of the reason might’ve been the boredom and the need to do something productive and the other reason could be that they would like to grab something without dusting it off first.

nobi and jungkook first started cleaning their room and around their beds. with having the biggest room in the dorm, they took a while to fully dust, vaccum, and throw away random garbage they found either under their beds or under their desks.

“ew, kook, why is there a banana milk box here?” she whined in disgust when she saw it under his bed.

jungkook merely shrugged and continued wiping the windows. “i don’t know. probably had a late snack.”

“dear god, jeon jungkook, we have a trash can for a reason!” she chided but he just turned to give her a grin.

“sorry.”

sighing, she got up from the floor and fluffed up the millions of pillows on her bed before grabbing the broom to sweep under her own bed. there was just paper balls and socks in the mix but she noticed a hoodie that she thought she really lost forever ago.

“oh my god!” nobi squealed and picked it up, examining it. it looked the same except it just had dust bunnies. “my stussy jacket!”

jungkook finished his job and looked over to what she was squealing for and gave her a look. “you mean my stussy jacket?”

laughing at his question, nobi walked over to him and patted his cheek. “sharing is caring, bub.”

a knock from their bedroom door made her go and answer it, finding jin at the other side.

“just saying that we have all the washers running so you might wait a while to run your guys’ stuff,” jin explained causing her to pout.

“this is why i keep saying that we should buy another. it’s a hassle with only 5 washers,” she pouted. jin smiled before ruffling her hair.

“once one of them is done, i’ll tell you.”

jungkook picked up a striped sock before tossing it to his laundry basket so that it could be washed. it baffled him of how many socks he has, considering he walks around the house barefoot.

once jin left, nobi went to their closet and opened the door, revealing the tons of clothing hanging on both top and bottom. it was split into 2 sections with jungkook’s and her clothing separate. but honestly, there was no use as she used his clothing most of the time. 

“hey, jungkook, should we wash all of our clothes? i mean, some of these haven’t been washed in several months. probably, since we moved,” she said.

he followed her inside and went to the very back of the closet, noticing that there was actually dust on the shoulder of one of his jackets. he took it off the long bar and examined it, forgetting he even owned it.

“do you remember this jacket, bub?” he asked making nobi look at him.

she looked at it and furrowed her eyebrows before shaking her head no. “i don’t think i’ve seen it before.”

“hm, maybe we should donate some of our clothes that we don’t own anymore. its good to give to those who need it rather than letting it sit here.”

nobi looked at him, shocked. “wah, jeon jungkook! you sounded so mature just now!”

he rolled his eyes and shoved her shoulder to hide the redness of his cheeks. “shut up. i’m always mature.”

she grabbed a big laundry basket for them to put their clothes in and they placed the hangers back on its place. nobi was amazed at how big their closet was and how small it felt when they it used to cramped with clothing. as they neared the end of the line, she saw a few boxes on the very back corner that looked like its never been touched.

she crouched in front of it and inspected it to see her handwriting, ‘2015′. lifting the boxes individually, she placed it by the foot of her bed and got out a pocket knife to cut through the packing tape that sealed it shut. jungkook noticed her with the boxes and sat on her bed as she wrenched the cardboard box open.

inside, there were many little trinkets from what looked to be tickets to a movie, a shonen jump magazine, a red jacket, and a smaller box at the bottom. carefully placing the stuff on top of her bed, she pulled out the black box and she felt a familiarity with it.

“ah! that box!” jungkook pointed. she looked at him in confusion.

“this?” she held up before lifting the lid open, finding an old polaroid camera with different pictures.

nobi held up the black and white object and blew the dust away, making jungkook cough as it was directed as his face. he made a sound of surprise but she paid him no mind, fingers reaching for the polaroids that were a mix of colored and black and white.

“did i... did i forget about these?” she whispered, hurt and angry at herself for not remembering about these precious memories.

“to be honest, i even forgot about it. maybe the members too,” he reassured.

there was one from her birthday. in the bottom, it was written, ‘nov 7 2014′ while the picture was of her with icing all over her face and carrying the birthday cake. she had a wide grin on her face and a party hat on her head.

“oh my god.. i remember these now,” she quietly stated. “this was one of the things that i took with me when i became a trainee. it was originally my mum’s.”

jungkook softly smiled at her and he gently grabbed her hand to sit on the bed where she was situated between his legs with her back against his chest. he rested his chin on her shoulder while she sifted through several more pictures.

one of her and tae in the restaurant they used to go to.

one of her and jimin in the dancing studio.

one of jin cooking.

one of hobi as he smiled widely.

one of namjoon in LA.

one of yoongi playing the piano.

one of her and jungkook as they clutched the music show trophy.

all of these were the memories of her youth yet they were sealed away in a box, only to be found years later.

as much as there were pictures of her members, jungkook was in most of them. from the simplest things like catching him staring at the camera to the happier things like their picnic in Han river that one night. he was present in almost all of the pictures and the camera lens was most familiar of his face.

nobi took a minute to fully look at this picture of her and kook where they were both lounging on her top bunk with their backs against the wall and her head on his shoulder while his rested on top of hers. the light hit them perfectly and the white walls shined the setting sun behind them. she remembered asking tae to take the picture and them fearing for their lives when their combined weight rattled the bed with the slightest movement. they both wore white and both of their hair was as messy as it could be.

it was labeled, ‘may 8 2014′, in black sharpie marker.

“god, my bare face was so bad back then.” her complaints made jungkook gently pinch her side.

“you were and have never been ugly.”

she turned her head to look at him, “yah, remember when i forgot to wash my face for 2 days and suddenly acne popped out of nowhere?”

he laughed and hugged her tighter. “you were forgetful. actually, still is. and you were too busy practicing in the studio to remember that you needed to take care of yourself too.”

a sad smile slowly replaced her grin, “but when i did remember, there was no cleanser left. i didn’t have money to buy more so i just endured it.”

“i think i used it all up. does my apology still count today?” he playfully asked to lighten her mood.

but the pain didn’t leave. “i remembered begging my parents for money. i wanted to have enough money to take care of all of us and put the company’s money to the music video.”

jungkook grew silent as she relived the time in their past where they struggled financially. it was a time where they almost disbanded because of their lack of money and not being financially stable enough to create their mv.

“i took the last bit of money i had to go to Jeju and i threw all my shame out of the window by asking them for more money. taehyung cried because he was hungry but we already spent our food money for the month. the imo from the restaurant has fed us so many times and never asked anything in return. that was when i knew i had to do something,” said nobi. “our manager was already doing so much for us and i didn’t want to ask for more.”

she never told him or the members this so he stared at her, sad and slightly upset that she burdened herself so early on. jungkook could faintly remember her disappearing for a few days and turning up a few days later with food from the convenience store. the angry outburst from yoongi being so worried for her still echoes in his memory to this day.

“i didn’t want all of our hard work to go to waste. i knew if we didn’t have any money, we would be forced to break up and i didn’t want to leave you guys. even if they didn’t help us, i wanted to think that i did everything i can to keep us together and i fought every battle with my all. we were just starting and the thought of it ending so quickly scared me.”

“we fought those battles and we won them all, nobi. we won them together,” he soothed. jungkook could feel her relax into his chest and he placed a kiss on her hair to remind her that he is there for her.

“god, i just brought the mood down, didn’t i?” she laughed. jungkook shook his head no.

“hm, no. you’ve always kept these things to yourself and never speak out whenever you have troubles. so, hearing you talk about this makes me happy because i feel like you’re finally opening up to me, bub.”

nobi swung her legs so she was able to look at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, softly tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. jungkook looked down at her with a curious smile while he rested his hand on her knee, caressing it gently.

“nah, i like keeping these things to myself. it gives me the mysterious vibes that i want. when people get curious about you, that’s when they instinctively stick around to try and figure you out. it’s like i’m running away and you’re after me to finally figure me out. i try to play hard to get,” she countered.

he chuckled before bumping her forehead with his. “is that why i’m still with you?”

“the chase is not over yet, jeon jungkook-ssi.”

“then i’ll chase you till it is.”

....

with their cleaning tools scattered around the floor and previous intention of laundry wiped from their minds, they spent the next few hours using up the leftover film in the camera. nobi tried to make it as aesthetically pleasing as possible with her posing on the bed with a fake rose or jungkook standing by the window. 

“wah, i feel bad for ARMY who can’t have these pictures. maybe we should post them?” she curiously asked while waiting for the picture to develop. he blanched at her question.

“yah, these are too intimate to be revealed to hundreds of millions of people in the internet!” he bursted causing her to laugh out loud. he sat up from the bed as he was previously laying, thinking of different picture ideas.

“i know. im just teasing. its cute to see you so jealous,” she smirked.

jungkook pouted and tutted. “i’m not jealous. i just try to help and look out for your innocent image.”

nobi walked towards him from the window and stood between his legs, jungkook loosely holding her hips. she pushed the hair that was covering his forehead and placed a soft kiss on it.

“i think we all know that concept has been out of the window since we turned legal.”

a/n: the moods in this one is just everywhere

additional: sorry for the total silence these past few days bc this girl has been binging on haikyuu

[jaxsteamblog]

Betrayal

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

They worked together every night of the week. Zuko always brought food and the three of them chatted together as they worked. At a certain point, they had to stop and seriously discuss transportation. This resulted in Zuko and Sokka taking measurements inside of the van but arguing about what the dimensions meant.

Katara laughed and sat back, watching them.

When it was all done and staged, the backroom looked like a construction zone. Foam blocks and partially built wooden structures covered almost every available surface. The refrigerators were stuffed with flowers. Leaves were stuck to everything.

“Tomorrow we’ll be closed, by the way.” Sokka said as he came out of the workroom with three bottles of iced tea. They sat in the alley, still damp from their cold and waterlogged activity. Zuko had pilfered the milk crates from a restaurant a few doors down and Katara didn’t even care about the hard plastic digging into her backside.

“Do we get to stay for the party?” Katara asked.

“I usually hang around and snag something from the catering.” Sokka said and drank his tea.

“As long as you guys have a nice outfit to change into, I think you could even manage to be with the other guests.” Zuko said.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Sokka said.

“Why not?” Katara asked.

“Don’t worry, he’s not coming anymore. Something came up.” Zuko replied.

“Who’s not going to be there?” Katara questioned.

“My father.” Zuko said and chugged most of his tea. After letting out a small gasp, he smiled at her. “He usually does that. He’ll say he’ll be somewhere to stress people out and then cancel last minute.”

“Full offense, your dad sounds like a jerk.” Katara said. Zuko gave a short laugh and Sokka snorted.

“They’re all jerks. Jerkbenders, every single one of ‘em.” He said.

“So how nice of an outfit are we talking here?” Katara asked.

The next day Zuko didn’t show up to help. While she understood, Katara still felt a little disappointed; she had wanted his opinion on her dress before they left. Still, Sokka’s girlfriend Suki showed up to assist and gave her seal of approval. Because Katara was driving separately, she took everyone’s garment bags, laying them out on her back seat as gently as Sokka did his flowers.

When they got to the Jasmine Dragon, Zuko was still nowhere to be found.The party planner - a very severe woman in a well-tailored tux - showed them where to put the flowers. And while she herself didn’t help, she certainly allocated enough hired hands to do so. Again, Katara was tasked with filling the vases and making sure water didn’t spill. It created a little cognitive dissonance in her, knowing that in a few short weeks she’d be learning how to use her bending to save people’s lives. But for now, she was cleaning up spills.

Once everything was set up, they all stood for a moment in quiet awe. The tablecloths were a deep blue and with the predominance of white in the flower arrangements, the snowfall effect played out over individual seas. Crystal glasses glinted under the light and the pristine dishes  were smooth tundras. Katara shivered in spite of herself.

“Awesome. Now let’s get changed.” Sokka said.

Katara gathered the bags from her car and went with Suki to the restroom. She had expected tight quarters, even with the teahouse’s obviously elite interior. But the restroom was nothing like the front of the business. There were only a few stalls, yes, but it was portioned off into two rooms; the first had a couch on one side and a vanity on the other.

“For all the fixtures, this is actually an old school style.” Suki said as she saw Katara take it all in. “This is why they were called restrooms afterall.”

The stalls were spacious and each one equipped for a number of mobility needs. But it was still a toilet stall, so Katara stood on her shoes as she changed out of her clothes.

The dress was from her Gran-Gran’s wedding; it had been a stroke of luck that Zuko’s party was basically Water Tribe themed. The skirt of her dress was almost the same shade of blue as the tablecloths and the bodice was white lace. It had been impossible to zip up at the wedding and Katara flailed about just as uselessly this time.

“Need a hand?” Suki asked from the next stall.

“Yeah, let me just get my shoes on.” Katara said.

The restroom door opened and Katara heard two women enter, talking.

“So what?” One woman, sounding bored, asked.

“So,” The other said, sounding irritated. “I just don’t know why he always does that.”

“They’re friends.” The first woman said.

“And we’re always so happy to see you.” Suki called out. Katara gathered up her things and opened the stall door.

“Oh great, he invited more commoners.” The first woman remarked.

Suki came out of her stall and went to the sinks, placing her clothes down.

“Nice to see you too Azula. Mai.” Suki said and went back to Katara. “Hey, hold your hair up.”

Katara held her clothes in one arm and lifted up her hair. She briefly examined the two new women, put off by the hostility. One of them looked a little like Zuko, mostly in the eyes, and she assumed this was his sister Azula. The other was a tall woman with long straight hair. Maybe Mai.

“I’m Katara.” Katara interjected as Suki zipped up her dress.

“I don’t think I care.” Probably Azula said.

“That’s prissy princess Azula and the other one is Mai.” Suki said. “Now do me.”

Katara turned around and zipped up Suki’s gown. It was an evergreen color, simply cut but it looked very stylish.

“That’s a great dress.” Katara said.

“Thanks. Zuko and Sokka go out a lot when he’s in town, so I had to get some adequate attire.” Suki said with faux-bitterness. She turned and flashed Katara a quick smile.

“Great, can you get out now? Your bargain bin dresses are giving me a headache.” Azula said and pushed between the two of them. Suki rolled her eyes but started walking out.

“I can’t believe they’re related.” Katara said as they exited. Guests had started to show up and now a few people eyed them awkwardly.

“Come on.” Suki whispered and headed to the side exit where Katara’s car was parked. They walked out and found Sokka standing next to the open passenger door, talking to Zuko. Both of them were in tuxes and looked pretty comfortable in them.

Katara tried to remember when Sokka had gotten used to wearing a suit. Clearly it had only happened after he met Zuko.

“Well don’t you boys clean up nice.” Suki said, her Kyoshi accent slipping out purposefully. Sokka kissed her cheek and took her clothes, tossing them unceremoniously into the backseat.

“I’d compliment you but you always look radiant.” Sokka told her. Zuko smiled and looked at Katara.

“That dress is beautiful.” He said. Katara glanced down and put her hands on the bottom half of her bodice.

“Thanks. I got it for my grandmother’s wedding.” She replied.

“Hey, so people have shown up and your sister is here.” Suki said, linking her arm through Sokka’s and leaning on him.

“Well we certainly don’t need her holding court right now.” Zuko grumbled. “Alright, I guess it’s time for me to go in.”

Sokka shut the door of the car and they all walked back in.

It only took a few moments for people to notice but once they did, they swarmed around Zuko. Clearly he was well known, and it obviously wasn’t for his uncle’s teashop. But whatever was going on back in the Fire Nation, he didn’t talk about it and Katara always felt weird when she was about to search him up online. Anything she found she knew wouldn’t be congruent with the man she had spent every night this week working on flower displays. It was bad enough to see him like this, dressed so formally and chatting up equally lavish looking people when just last night he had been covered in tiny statice flowers.

“So what’s supposed to happen?” Katara asked.

“Well, there will probably be a tea demonstration. I wouldn’t be surprised if Azula did it. And then lunch, where a ton of people will drink too much and make speeches. Then someone will push the tables out of the way and dancing will start, regardless of what time it is.” Sokka answered.

“That seems like a lot.” Katara replied.

“Is it really any different than what the rest of us do?” Suki asked.

“But everything is so nice.” Katara countered.

“That doesn’t mean anything to these people. Just wait till you see how much they rack up in damages.” Sokka said.

After about thirty minutes of greeting, an older man stepped onto a raised stage. He tapped the microphone to get everyone’s attention and Zuko took the opportunity to weave through the crowd back to them.

“Hey.” He whispered and squeezed Katara’s shoulder as he stepped behind her. Blushing, she became acutely aware of his presence behind her right shoulder as he stood next to Sokka.

“Thank you everyone for coming out to celebrate my nephew’s birthday. It is an honor to be surrounded by so many friends, and by such delicious tea!” The man said and the audience laughed politely. “Because the two greatest joys in my old age are tea and my niece and nephew, I am delighted to invite out my niece Azula to perform a traditional tea ceremony.”

The audience applauded and Zuko scoffed. Everyone started to shuffle around, taking a seat as Azula and a few others brought cases and equipment to the stage. Azula had changed into a traditional kimono and she looked serene. It was a shocking change from their interaction in the restroom.

The ceremony was artfully done and Zuko went forward to receive the cup his sister had prepared. More tea was made and people started to socialize. Other performers came to the stage to play instruments and servers brought out small dishes, all which became background noise.

Zuko kept having to get up and circulate amongst the guests, but ultimately returned to their table to eat a few appetizers and drink some tea. By the time lunch was served, Katara was already full. But this time, the alcohol was poured and the room started to grow warmer and louder.

Stopping back at their table, Katara handed him a cold glass of water, which he took gratefully.

“All the old guys are eyeing the microphone.” Suki said, leaning across the table toward Zuko.

“Probably trying to figure out how to suck up to my father while telling me off.” He replied, glancing over at the stage.

“Well that just means someone has to get up there first to set the tone.” Sokka said and stood.

“Sokka, do not tell them-” Zuko started but Sokka cut him off.

“I will confess my love to you as many times as it takes Zuko.” He said. Zuko put his face in his hands and groaned while Katara patted his back.

The microphone whined as Sokka twisted it and most of the audience watched him.

“Good afternoon everyone. My name is Sokka and some of you know me as That Native Boy Who Sells Flowers. Anyway, I just wanted to be the first to say, Zuko, you are the most handsome Fire Nation guy I’ve ever met and I hope you never change. Happy birthday you magnificent sunbeam you.” Sokka said and raised his beer glass. A few voices, most likely belonging to the younger members of the crowd, cheered as Sokka took a drink.

As Sokka made it to the table, Zuko was rubbing his chin and shaking his head. Sokka just slapped his back and sat down.

“Do you like getting me in trouble?” Zuko asked, gesturing with his hand in the empty air.

“What’s the worst that can happen? You get another scar?” Sokka said and then made a dismissive sound. “You’ll be fine champ.”

There was a tapping on the microphone and they looked over again. Mai stood there, holding her champagne glass and leaning over the microphone gracefully.

“Thank you Sokka, I’m always glad to know my boyfriend is in such safe hands when he’s away from home.” Mai began. Katara felt her stomach sink and she sat up in her chair. Boyfriend?

“Zuko, you know I’m not one for grand speeches. But I’m here, which is saying something. Happy birthday.” Mai continued and raised her glass. “To the Fire Lord.”

The entire audience and Zuko raised their glasses and replied, in near perfect unison, “To the Fire Lord.”

Zuko looked uneasy and didn’t turn as he took a drink. Good thing, as Katara’s hands had turned to lead and she hadn’t been able to move them.

1 2 3 4 5 6

[ourloveisforthelovely]

To the Ends of the Earth 17

A/n: Supernatural AU. OOC Gabriel

Link to Chapter 16

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

_______

Gabriel did not let go of you for a good five minutes. You were not about to argue about it either. This had been the first bit of physical affection that the two of you had shared is some time.

After a few moments longer, Gabriel finally let go of you. He glanced over his shoulder at Amelia, who was not even looking up. The kid was too busy building her mud pies or whatever she was doing. Gabriel smirked. The kid reminded him too much of you as a child. Sometimes it was like looking in a gigantic mirror!

“Hey kid, why don’t you go inside and clean up?”

Gabriel said with a smile. Amelia nodded before standing up and dusting off her dirty pants.

“Okay, I am really dirty anyway. My daddy is going to have a cow.”

Gabriel partly wished that he could see Sam’s face when the kid walked in with mud and dirt all over her.

The amused feeling vanished as Gabriel remembered what he had to talk to you about. This wasn’t going to be a good conversation in the slightest.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you about something.”

Your happy smile quickly vanished and was replaced by that serious expression that Gabriel wished that he never had to see. He liked making you smile. This look was the furthest thing from a smile imaginable.

“Gabriel, I don’t like conversations that start like this.”

You said. It was the truth too. It seemed like every time Gabriel talked to you with this particular tone something was going straight to hell in a giant dumpster fire.

Gabriel looked at you sympathetically.

“Sugar, I was talking with Dean. We both had thought that it would be a good idea for me to keep an eye on Raphael. It seems like he is taking up making some friends around here. When I say friends, I mean other angels that have been on earth for a long time. I’m going to be gone for a few weeks...I don’t want….”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

You snapped. Gabriel sighed. He didn’t say anything for a moment. In fact, you didn’t give him a chance to get a word out. Gabriel only looked at you with that annoyed expression that he seemed to be wearing a lot more lately.

“Where was I in this conversation? Why am I never considered? I’m supposed to be your wife and I am always left out in the cold on these decisions! It's like you are just fine talking to my brothers and Cas more than me. Would you just prefer it if you kept me locked at home all barefoot and pregnant or something? I’m not some 1950’s housewife that is just going to sit around and wait for you to come home! This is insane Gabriel! Every time you go anywhere near your psycho brothers you come back not in the condition that you left in! You are just getting your grace back to 100% and now you are going back after them...this is insane!”

Gabriel gave you an innocent shrug.

“First off, barefoot and pregnant? Who the hell says that? Second, gross. You know I want nothing to do with children. Amelia is fine. She isn’t ours! We can play with her then send her back to Sam when we get sick of her. Third, I don't want you to be a stereotypical housewife. I like you the way you are. It's what I love the most about you...even though you can be difficult. Now that my grace is back, it would be the best time. Nothing is going to happen this time, Y/n.”

You shook your head wanting to sit down and hold your head in your hands.

“Then let me go with you. You know that I can hold my own in a fight.”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Not happening. I won’t be able to keep my thoughts where they will need to be. I will be worrying about you the whole time. That is how people get killed.”

You muttered something about being a big girl and not needing to be watched over all the time.

“Yes, you do and you are not going. That’s my final word.”

Gabriel said, taking on his “archangel” tone. You looked at him coldly before turning and storming back toward the bunker’s entrance. In a few hours, you would regret not kissing him goodbye or saying “I love you” at the moment, however, you wanted to kick the archangel in the shins.

“I think that I am going to form my own country and declare war on you and Dean!”

“Y/n…”

Gabriel started but stopped when you held your hand up.

“You aren’t going to listen to me anyway. I am just wasting my breath. Be ready to get a declaration of war notice...hope you and your new best friend forever Dean are up to it.”

You stormed into the bunker without another word.

Storming into the kitchen, you froze seeing Amelia looking at a gooey pancake that Sam put in front of her.

“Daddy this is gross.”

Sam looked up with a sigh and immediately knew what was wrong.

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.”

Sam said, petting Amelia’s head and turning to face you.

“I see Gabriel talked to you.”

Your eyes flickered in your older brother’s direction. Sam’s face was wary as he gave you a sympathetic expression.

“I see you knew about it too. I’m declaring war on you also.”

You snapped. Sam frowned.

“I said that he was wrong to handle this the way that he is.”

You stopped dead in your tracks and was silent for a moment. Sam was on your side. Good old Sam! You could help but be thankful for him at the moment. It was always Sam that stuck up for you when Dean treated you like a kid. Sam wanted to make sure that you had equal say in whatever the situation was.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

You said softly. Sam shook his head.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know that you get sick of being treated like a little kid.”

You nodded, coldly. That was an understatement! You were beyond sick of being treated like a child. This was the perfect opportunity to throw your feelings up in Gabriel’s face. He hated when his older brothers treated him like that kid in the family now here he was doing the same thing to you!

“I really do. Sam, do you think that I am a capable hunter?”

Sam nodded, looking over his shoulder making sure that Amelia was busy with her coloring and not paying attention to the conversation at hand.

“You know I do.”

You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Sam’s waist. He didn’t wait before wrapping his arms around you.

“Y/n, I know that you can handle almost anything that comes your way. I also know that Gabriel and Dean are trying in some annoying way to protect you too. It doesn’t mean that you should be sidelined to the kids table though.”

“All Gabriel and Dean want me to do is sit around here and play den mother. Normally I don’t mind but today I am extra pissy!”

Sam chuckled.

“Want me to take you out for ice cream?”

You stubbornly nodded. Sam smiled before turning back to Amelia who was looking up at ice cream.

“I wanna come.”

She said with a pouty expression that mirrored her father’s. You smiled at your niece before motioning her forward.

“Well, come on, sweetheart.”

Half an hour later, you sat nibbling on what was left of your ice cream cone. Amelia was halfway through a very messy hot fudge cake. You smirked as Sam sat the napkin that he was holding down in clear defeat of keeping Amelia’s white shirt clean.

“She eats like Dean.”

You said with a smile. Sam shook his head with a loud sigh.

“She is a lot like her world's okayest uncle.”

Glancing around the restaurant, you couldn’t help but notice several sets of eyes starring in your direction. You tried to keep the obviousness of the situation under control as you gazed at the multiple being looking in your direction.

“Angles.”

You muttered. Sam looked up.

“What?”

You looked around the room again discreetly before focusing your attention on your older brother.

“There are a shit ton of angels here. 1 guess as to who they are after.”

Sam didn’t even have to respond. He knew. It was you. Michael and Raphael had made it clear to any angel that you were hit number 1.

“Do you have your angel blade?”

Sam whispered. You nodded, not even having to feel for the weapon at your side. Glancing down to Amelia, you muttered fuck. This was going to be a hell of a way from your niece to figure out that angels were real and weren’t always the good guys.

“Make sure that she doesn’t peek.”

Sam nodded before leaning down and whispering something into his daughter’s ear. His eyes rolled back to yours.

“I’ve got your back.”

You nodded before stepping out of the booth. Pretending to be unaware of the danger at hand, you walked to the restaurant door. You stopped and looked out into the pleasant Kansas sunny afternoon. After taking a few deep breaths, you returned to the counter where the owner stood counting money.

“Can I get you something?”

He asked, casually. You nodded.

“A glass of water, please.”

As he went to the soda machine to fill up the cup in hand you slowly felt for the revolver in the back of your jeans.Angel killing bullets...check

“So do you have insurance on this place?”

You asked. The owner shook his head.

“Nah, nothing ever happens here.”

“Too bad.”

You muttered before taking a sip of your water. After a few more moments of silence, you turned to the angels casually sitting about the place.

“Hello, you bunch of holy fuckers. I am Y/n Winchester and I am here to deport you right back to heaven where you belong.”

As soon as the words left your lips, an angel had a hold of your hand. It took you all of two seconds to sink the angel blade into the chest of the being. After the angel was dead you turned to face a few others that were stepping closer to you.

“Oh look, you brought your friends.”

You muttered as Sam took out a few angels to your left. You reached behind you taking out your revolver and blasting the angel killing bullets into the others.

“Sam, remind me to thank Dean for his hard work on these bullets.”

Before Sam could respond, a voice you knew well began to speak

.“Yes, let's thank Dean.”

Your eyes widened as Raphael stepped out from the booth that you couldn’t see. Christ…

‘Hello, Y/n. I see you don’t have my brother watching your every move?”

You swallowed as Raphael gave you that cold brutal smile that could scare anyone to death.

“I don’t need Gabriel to watch my every move, dickbag. I have my big girl panties on. You and Michael need to get some new hobbies. I swear you two are like our little annoying fan brats that just won’t go away. I hear that scrap booking is nice.”

Raphael raised an eyebrow.

“Is that supposed to be funny? Do you think that you are funny or something?”

You grinned.

“In the words of my dear brother, I think that I am adorable.”

Raphael’s unnamed expression deepened.

“You are about to be dead. It won’t be a bad thing. I will just have to watch Gabriel be in agony for the rest of eternity but I think that I can manage that.”

You glanced at Sam out of the corner of your eye, he was watching Raphael's every move and was ready to pounce on the archangel.

“I’ve got it, Sam.”

You said softly before looking back to Raphael.

“You first.”

Before Raphael could get his hand up, you fired the gun, hitting him square in the chest. Raphael blinked stupidly as the pain began to take over.

“Bet you never expected this did you, you stupid son of a bitch? Archangel killing bullets. You thought I was just playing? Bitch I never play! Now you're dead and Michael will be next.”

You looked away as Raphael died. Part of you wanted to watch. The other part didn’t. You knew that this would be what it would be like if Gabriel died and your mind didn’t want to process it. You also didn’t want to process the thought that you would have to tell Gabriel that you had killed his brother. At odds or not, Raphael was still Gabriel’s brother and this would probably be a rough thing.

Sam’s hand touching the small of your back made you jump. You turned to face your brother, who cradled his clearly stunned daughter in his arms.

“What did aunty do?”

She whispered, looking around. Sam sighed. He had all of the intentions of letting his daughter grow up in ignorance of the ways of their “world.” Amelia could be the one that went into the world without fooling with the supernatural but who was Sam kidding? This would be her life just like it was his and yours.

“She saved all of us.”

______

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[popculturebuffet]

Jingle Belle: A Very Special Jingle Belle Special or A goofy holiday comic and a long tired rant about the animation industry

Ho ho ho and merry Christmas as we reach the final stretch of Christmas reviews and it’s all Christmas all the time for the rest of the week for obvious reasons. So we’re starting off by wrapping up Jingle Belle for the season with one more comission. While it’s from my usual client, It’s via patreon as for 5 bucks a month you can get a review a month of your choice. But since that hasn’t taken hold just yet, and won’t till next month, he asked to swap it for this month and here we are.  Not much to cover though this is the very comic where Jing hopped publishers from Oni Press to Dark Horse. The whys I genuinely do not know and at the time, I just know it’s weird to talk about Dark Horse these days. Their not dead nor entirely irrelvant, Resident Alien, which I really want to check out as it has a really engaging premise, is getting a tv show that I also want to check out as while i’m not sure if it’ll be good, it’s still Alan Tudyk playing an alien who can barely pass for human and it hilariously shows. Whenever that streams i’m not missing a second of that and we all know it. And Umbrella Academy, started during bigger days for the company, is one of netflix’s hottest shows and one of many shows on my to do list I haven’t gotten to because I procastinate like no one else and as taking an entire month to get to the newest loud house shows to the point another one popped up, it bites me in the ass a lot. Point is their not GONE in relevance.. but at the same time they’ve lost the huge tide of liscences they road in on. Except for the Joss Whedon stuff, Marvel’s pretty much taken EVERYTHING from them via various deals: Star Wars, Conan and now Alien. Their still standing and makes good art books and clearly given Resident Alien good content, they’ve lasted this long their not going anywhere, it’s just really weird to think about. I will however give them huge credit for giving out tons of comics in early quarantine, and being easily the most generous company next to marvel. I.e. one of the few that actually gave out full collections. 

But yeah at the time this was probably a safe move as Dark Horse had a love of one shots and likely a larger budget. Hence why from here on out the stories are in living color, and have a slightly diffrent art style to boot. Granted the character would shift artists but now it’s got a clear more cartoony art style I like a lot better courtsey of Jose Garabaldi. So yeah with christmas on our heels, let’s ring a ding jing, it’s A Very Special Jingle Belle Special. 

We won’t be covering the backup for this one though it is quite good, it’s just not what kev asked or paid for. 

We open on a parade!

While batman foils the joker’s poisioning scheme, Santa rides on a float proudly and   Jing is hanging out on the back grumpy. It’s a great introduction for new readers showing Santa being big and jolly and what you expect while Jing grumps in the back with a “Sheesh, Daddy”. That’s how you establish a character well in only a few panels. IT’s really great is what i’m saying. Some teens pop up but don’t belivie her about being Santa’s daughter and when going to a christmas shop to try and find figures of her, the owner claims he dosen’t.. and well violence insues. You’ve met jing right?  Anyways Jing is understandably a wee bit absolutely livid the world dosen’t know about her. Her parents sure but her? Nope. And it’s easy to see why: She’s the daughter of the world’s most famous man.. but despite all the holiday lore and junk she’s just the part he likes to hide from people.. or that’s how it feels. While he ducks it, she even gives him a nice save fatty it’s clear that even if she brought it up to rile him a bit.. she does feel on some level like he likes to tuck her away and hide her because he’s ashamed and because she’s not perfect. Granted she does act out and stuff, but she’s still his kid and i’ts still gotta sting. Though she has the perfect idea to fix this: A christmas special. Santa suggests just doing good deeds but Jing is right: her idea is better. Mostly because, as cyncial as this is.. more people are going to pay attention to a good holiday special than a celebrity’s kid doing charity and for far longer. A good christmas special just sticks in the brain and sticks with you forever. It’s why Santa Claus is Coming to Town and A Charlie Brown Christmas have lasted decades or why my list of best chirstmas specials is pretty weighty. They just stick with you so while this can’t possibly end well.. her plan is actually a really good one this time. 

So Jing takes her friends off the line to help her animate it, stop motion styles and they remind her of her LAST christmas special. 

I mean I’m a sucker for any refrence to Star Wars Holiday Special. You’d think after several decades of jokes at it’s expense, with tons of youtubers, many of whom are dead to me but that’s besides the point, tackling the thing without it getting stale, that we’d eventually grow tired of mocking it but .. no. It’s a bottomless well of what they were thinking. The only question left is why isn’t it on Disney Plus.. I mean.. you made a second one as an affectionate parody and in lego. Kids are going to know about this now. Just put the thing up. Even edited down or just some clips. You put Rise of Skywalker up there, you’ve proven your threshold for shame when it comes to this franchise is vast. Just person up and do it.  But Jing’s learned her lesson.. stop motion only and to follow the bouncing formula to sucess. So in the special which sadly isn’t all stop motion and is just drawn to resemble the specials, probably for the best but still, Jing and her animal pals are sneaking into a town where christmas was banned! Meeting the chirstmas legion of doom.. well okay that’s what i’m calling them. Burgermeister Budweiser! Bungle the Abominable Snow Monster! Frost Master and Heat BLister! The Frost Fakir.. wait the what?

........

I mean where do I even begin? I know this was during the war on terror, I know that.. but still I expect better from Paul Dini for a crosses the line twice joke than “hey let’s just make bin laden into an ice wizard!”. I mean South Park made fun of him too, but they went all out with a looney tunes homage. Put effort in. And even years after he died the lonely island did this beautiful thing in the film pop star: never stop stoppin, which you should watch seriously watch it it’s underated. 

Point is you can do better and if you don’t have room to do better then just.. don’t. You could’ve put in a t-rex in a top hat and monocle.  That would’ve genuinely been better... because it’s better than everything ever btu that’s besides the point. There’s also one last addition to the rogue’s gallery thank god. 

He hates her too. Now that gag is actually reallyf ucking funny. What’s also funny is how she solves things. By singing a nice and frinedly song about friendship to reform the villians.. or rather lure them over a bridge to get eaten by her orca friend. 

So Jing after showing it to her dad heads to market it with him trying to warn her netoworks haven’t aired this kind of thing in years. But she faces the greatest threat to all of television: network executives, who keep offering advices and basically change the thing all together for stupid reasons and think cartoons should only be for kids despite it wokring in the past. Aka the hells animators STILL go through. I think Paul was projecting just a wee bit with this one. Given again IT HASN’T CHANGED since then, I can’t blame him. Seriously Harvey Beaks was canceled, among MANY ohter nick shows including rise of the tmnt just because it wasn’t an instant hit, Cartoon Network and warner keep trying to make dumbed down remakes of great shows, and Disney, among other networks, is fairly homophobic and while finally allowing some gay on the network this year had to be fought and outright refused it on ducktales for no adquate reason, caring more about monney and the bible belt than doing the right thing. So yeah as you can tell this bit got to me a bit and was hard to read because it. hasn’t. changed. 16 years and not a lot has changed other than more women are getting a chance. And granted the “kids are our only audiencce argument” isn’t as strong and several shows are powered by other demographics it’s still an issue and still the reason several good shows have gotten the boot and why the jeph loeb era of marvel animation was terrible. Because guys like him thought it should JUST be for kids and the lowest common demoninator of htem. You can be clever and be for kids dammit. 

I apologize slightly for that it’s just something that’s been on my mind as shows dwindle and with ducktales gone the standard forbearaers for children’s animation are all pretty fresh faced. It’s just a lot to take in and i’ts been on my mind a lot. 

Back to the actual story the result is a pretty purtrid cutesy special.. Jing reacts how you’d expect, destroying the tapes covertly with a herd of musk ox and destroying the tape. But they find the 70′s special and we end on that which is pretty funny. The only thing I really don’t like here is the ending. The rest of this special is really good: it’s clever , has some good satire and some really funny jokes especially that hook one. The ending just feels a bit weak.. like yes Jing wanted to be noticed but it’s not really an unsympathetic motive and while she does some shady stuff the villians still basically win by airing her terrible holiday special all over again. It’s just not satisfying.  But yeah overall another pretty decent holiday comic with some good jokes. I”ll probably see Jing again next year, and it was fun getting to dip into these comics. THeir not my faviorites, but their still pretty decent and if the complete collection ends up on sale on comixology or you see it in a bookstore and you think it’d be up your ally i’d buy it. Again not my faviorite thing ever, but still enjoyable enough. Coming up this week of holiday cheer: ducks, more ducks, superheroes, and a best of list. 

Until next time: Courage. 

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 35

Last time: Ed wasn’t a racist, Sloth forgot to turn left at Albuquerque, and M.G. Armstrong was getting ready to show off to the tourists. Onwards!

Episode 35 - “The Shape of This Country”

Awesome, we’re right back into it, M.G. Armstrong repeating her line from last episode. Ed’s confused until Buccy grabs his head and then his whole body to “lend a hand”. The Brothers protest until Buccy puts his pistol to Ed’s head what the Leto?!

[Buccy]: “You were forced to help us under duress; how does that excuse work for ya?’

Eh we can get into order technicalities later, just go with it for now Ed. Heck, if you pull this off right it’ll never get back to Bradley!

Poor Falman’s conscripted as well, Buccy still holding Ed at gunpoint as they take fuel cans to Gate 8. Seeing as the defused shells were insufficient, M.G. Armstrong uses her new weapons as blunt instruments to simply push Sloth into the elevator. Poor tank commander, he just wanted to show off the tanks to his boss but now he’s just getting stepped on by her. It works, and the slow thug is sent somewhere else to the relief of the poor mooks.

Now we’re down to Gate 8, where Sloth shambles out of the elevator all confused about where he is now. Suddenly Buccy runs in and damn, guy just shoulder-threw the biggest Goth so far to the ground, right below the others who poured the tank fuel onto him.

Good, you’ve soaked the Goth in flammable material. Anybody got a match?

Uh.

Ok, I can’t fault you for this one. Why settle for a match when you’ve got a Leto-damn tank?

Alright, that shot knocked it outside, you can use explosive shells safely now! FIRE!

…

Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. You’re out of ammo?! You didn’t save even a single explosive shell? Boo.

Falman… I’ll say he ‘contributed’ by shooting down an icicle, but he probably didn’t need to bother. The Brothers run forward and Brother Kick off the fort wall. Guys, do you not realize the plan? You want heat, not this blasted cold!

Wait, what are you saying Buccy?

Oh. Well don’t I feel foolish now. I got so hung up on the idea of setting Sloth on fire that I didn’t even think about the opposite. Fast evaporating liquid plus stupidly low temperatures? Near-instant Gothsicle.

Awesome! Dead or not, Sloth isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Now we can- hey! Don’t arrest the Elrics, they helped! Falman too!

Argh, even with Sloth on ice M.G. Armstrong’s keeping up the excuse that they were forced to help, and as long as they’re detained she can try to get some more answers out of them. Although I’m totally down for learning what Sloth wanted, I can’t think of any reason the Goths would need a tunnel all the way to the northern edge of Amestris.

Rise and shine, prisoner! Ed seems to share my disdain for cold-weather mornings, but he perks up when one of the labcoats comes by with a mug. Ed, I wouldn’t- dude really? Just yesterday you got charged for a cup of coffee, why are you surprised the same thing happened today?

At least he gets some good information for free, like that a search party was sent into the tunnel to figure out what the heck it was, and Sideburns is visiting the hospital, there’s a soldier who… uh oh, it’s Kimblee, isn’t it? I know that the Elrics haven’t met him yet, and he still has to make up for his pathetic showing on that train, but I think that Ed should still worry more about the guy working for the Goths than his old enemy.

We get some other Briggs soldiers dropping by as well to thank the Elrics for their help yesterday. Ed and I are impressed by the camaraderie these guys seem to share, for a place defined by Survival of the Fittest there’s a good amount of teamwork and goodwill. Not enough to defy M.G. Armstrong and let them out of course, but still.

At the hospital Sideburns is confirming that Scar got away, before saying that Fort Briggs would search for Scar while Kimblee healed up. Kimblee of course demands that they back off and let him continue his hunt, Sideburns of course says they won’t just let a serial killer wander freely.

Ooooh… Sideburns just took off his sunglasses to show Kimblee his unmistakable red eyes, leaning in to warn a shocked Kimblee that if he tries to order him around again that he’d never leave the hospital. “You behave yourself.” Ha! Take that, you puffed up murderer!

Another visitor? Ah, it’s the traitor General Raven, come to check on their attack dog and their Philosopher’s Stones… really? Kimblee has both Stones? And he still got curbstomped by Scar? This is the same guy who utterly obliterated Ishval with just one, right? You make me sad, Kimblee. Shove off so we can worry about a real threat.

Whatever, the General still seems to think he’s useful so he’s brought a doctor (Leto-damn it stop adding doctors to this show, I can’t keep up with all of them!) to speed up his recovery with Alchemy. And wow that smile with several missing and one gold tooth. If I saw that guy come into the waiting room, I’d take my chances with whatever I had rather than trust him.

Marcoh and May! The original Doc is going over the research notes, says Alkahestry seems pretty complicated. May helpfully clarifies about this “Dragon Pulse” stuff, about how Alkahestry uses Chi, ‘rivers of power’ running through the world. Alhakestrists are able to trace the Chi and use where it enters and where it leaves to perform Remote Transmutation, like setting off the explosion at the train depot or making a statue of Shao on the other side of the cabin.

Alchemists don’t use Chi though, they use their own energy- wait, what? They use “energy from the movement of the Earth’s crust”? Bwah? So Alchemists tap into a deeper pool of energy… but May doesn’t feel like that’s right. She’s felt off ever since she got to Amestris, and under Central she could sense energy. Not like movement under the land, but “a crowd of people, squirming around”...

…

Oh for Leto’s sake. It’s the Super Grief Seed all over again.

Central’s sitting on either a crap ton of standard Philosopher’s Stones, or a great big honkin Super Philosopher's Stone. That’s what’s powering Amestrian Alchemy, isn’t it? And if all of Amestris draws from this one power source, and Uncle has access to it, then he can shut it down to cut everyone off. Alkahestrists like Scar and May were ok, but everyone else drawing from the SPS?

And damn it that means that when our heroes win they’ll shut down Alchemy? Either they’d better learn the heck out of Alkahestry to repair their bodies, or this show’s gonna have a very unsatisfying ending.

Mid-ep pictures of Edward and Alphonse Elric.

Repairs are underway in the Fort Briggs furnace room, and M.G. Armstrong’s getting a report about the tunnel; great big tunnel, but no one in it. She calls for some horses and the Elric Brothers.

Huh, the tunnel looks like it has railings. I thought Sloth was just digging a tunnel, and I doubt he’d have the fine motor control to set such even construction. So who set those up? While Ed admires the tunnel, M.G. Armstrong gripes that an intruder got through her defenses. Nobody’s even gotten in Briggs while she’s been in charge, but there was an incident 20 years ago…

Seriously? Teacher, I’m disappointed. You brag about surviving for a whole month in the Briggs Mountains, but it turns out that you just mugged some poor soldiers for their lunches?

M.G. Armstrong decides that they’ve gone far enough. Ah, I see! This was to get the Elrics away from curious ears in the Fort, so you can question them about what they couldn’t say earlier. Hoo boy. This could go very well, or very poorly. M.G. Armstrong? Please don’t give my fears foundation.

Cut to after the Elrics have talked about the Stones and Goths, Bradley and Uncle. The hostages too; Winry, Riza, Havoc…

[Falman]: “And, uh… w-what about Colonel Mustang?”

[M.G. Armstrong]: “Yeah… I couldn’t care less about him.”

Oh my Leto she’d just as rather see him fall to remove another “rival”. She’s after the title of Fuhrer! I… I don’t know how to feel about this.

Regardless, she wants the Elrics to examine the tunnel. Ed guesses that it didn’t originate in Drachma, and that it’s in the shape of a circle-

!!!

He’s figuring out what Hughes figured out ages ago! What got him killed!

Ed has Falman start reporting all major incidents in Amestris, gets a shock when he learns about Liore falling to pieces even after he and Al exposed the corrupt priest. M.G. Armstrong snaps at him to keep working though. He connects the dots…

[Falman]: “H-how is that possible? It looks just like the Transmutation Circle from the Fifth Laboratory!”

Yup. It’s a giant, country-sized TC. But-

Yeah, Marcoh’s saying he asked Envy if that was their plan, but the Goth had laughed at that, saying “That’s not it, but close.” Was he lying?

Oh thank Leto May’s giving up on the Philosopher’s Stone. Her Alkahestry and the research notes could possibly find a workaround. Maybe. There’s hope. But no matter what, she can’t continue to search for a Philosopher’s Stone. At least there’s that good news.

Which is something sorely needed, as our heroes have worked out that each of these incidents were caused by or exacerbated by the military, constantly growing the country of Amestris bloody conquest by bloody conquest.

[M.G. Armstrong]: “My country…”

Sheesh. To learn that the country that you swore to protect and defend, was designed from its inception to be a massive TC? That has to hurt.

Double sheesh, a flashback to Mr. Freeze himself. The very first episode, while I cannot condone his murderous actions… he was working against the Big Bad. And Ed, way back when? What was his attitude?

Regardless, probably not the best idea to let him keep doing whatever he’s doing. But Mr. Freeze starts monologuing about how Edward’s a Dog of the Military, how his bosses have Sinister Plans- Edward cuts him off, says he doesn’t care and it’s Not His Problem. Um. What? Do… do you really not care if you’re actually working for Bad Guys?

Bleh.

M.G. Armstrong is not happy- oooooooh, crapbaskets. There’s only one circle left to be harvested on the map until the TC is complete - Briggs. Welp. I guess that explains why Sloth was digging there. So, what now?

Apparently it’s dealing with a certain TRAITOR General who’s shown up at the Fort. M.G. Armstrong has to go see what he wants. Maybe trick him into revealing some info?

There’s the jerk, Sideburns is asking him to wait until his boss comes back. Him and damnit Kimblee’s already back on his feet, and is inside Briggs with Raven now.

I guess it’s safest to put the Elrics back in their cells while Raven’s in the area, don’t want him seeing them and reporting back to Bradley. Aw, chin up Al, don’t give up on Winry’s apple pie now.

Teatime with the Traitor with a microphone in the vent, M.G. Armstrong’s talking about a “monster” who attacked yesterday. A bit of Drachma Paranoia to build your case, then name dropping the Elrics makes Raven pause. How odd that they seemed to know about the monster but refused to talk…

The Elrics, Buccy, and Falman are listening in on the mic as M.G. Armstrong… wow ok. I did not expect her to play the “oh, I’m a frail little woman who couldn’t bear to torture the boys”, to Buccy’s great amusement.

Now she’s even bemoaning not having children, that she’s… oh. Um.

She’s saying she’s growing older.

She’s admiring the immortal body of the monster that attacked her fort.

Raven is saying such a body wouldn’t be a dream very soon.

[Raven]: “Tell me, General… Would you be interested in a legion of immortal soldiers?”

The Elrics say that he took the bait, but…

I’m just looking at M.G. Armstrong’s eyes, and the growing pupils.

Um.

[quicksilversquared]

Keeping Up With the Ladyblog Pt. 2

A reporter has to adapt and improvise. It’s an important skill to learn, especially when one is a reporter who is still in school and can’t skip out to film all of the akuma battles without getting grounded. So Alya gets creative and starts using old security camera footage of akuma attacks. It keeps the Ladyblog active and maybe, just maybe, she’ll finally get her scoop of a lifetime.

links in the reblog

It was much harder to get Ladybug and Chat Noir alone than Alya would have thought. Now that she had important information- super important information, crazy important information- she never seemed to be able to catch them on their own at the end of a fight. They were always surrounded by adoring fans, reporters, and too many cameras for Alya to be comfortable with when they had a little bit of time left at the end of a fight, and when they didn't, well...

They just took off far too quickly for Alya to catch them.

Alya was just starting to get frustrated when Nino suggested that she just tell Ladybug or Chat Noir that she needed to talk to them privately and soon. That way, she didn't need to get them all on their own or risk other people overhearing and breaking the story before she could.

That was a much better idea. Nino got a kiss for that.

After that, it was a piece of cake for Alya to get to Ladybug before she and Chat Noir could run off at the end of a fight. Ladybug seemed a bit distracted, trying to smile for the cameras and answer the questions being thrown at her like usual, but Alya persisted.

"Ladybug!" Alya called, weaving closer to the superhero. She ducked under Madam Chamack's cameraman's arm to get past them. There was a "Hey!" as she disrupted the video, but Alya didn't care. She rushed up to Ladybug, tugging lightly on the superhero's arm.

Maybe she wasn't going to tell Ladybug exactly what her scoop was right now, but she still didn't need any other reporters sticking their noses in and messing everything up.

"I need to talk to you and Chat Noir privately," she told Ladybug in a hushed whisper, glancing around to make sure that no one was listening in. "I have a scoop- it's about Hawkmoth."

She saw Chat Noir glance back at them, his cat ears flicking backwards briefly. He and Ladybug exchanged a look, wordlessly communicating something that Alya couldn't decipher.

"We can swing by tonight," Ladybug told Alya, one eye still on Chat Noir. "It'll probably be late, though."

"Understandable." Alya flashed Ladybug a quick smile. "And I'll try to be fast about it. Thanks!"

Ladybug nodded, and seconds later she and Chat Noir bounded out of the crowd, back to the rooftops to go back home. Alya watched them go for a second, then beat it before Madam Chamack could catch up to her and start scolding her for messing up her shot or something.

Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up at ten thirty on the dot, landing just outside of Alya's window. She let them in right away, pointing them towards her computer. Onscreen, she had the edited Heroes Day footage up, paused right near the end.

"So you might have noticed that I've been going through security camera footage to edit it into a cohesive video of the fight for the Ladyblog," Alya started, settling into her chair in front of the computer. She was feeling a little nervous now, probably because Adrien was going to end up losing his father because of this. And while it wasn't her fault- it was his asshat supervillain of a father's- she couldn't help but feel a little bad. "And this is Heroes Day. I was going through the footage from the Eiffel Tower, and I saw- well, this."

She hit Play. Onscreen, the superheroes were blown away by the giant moth's wing blasts. Hawkmoth made a hasty exit, swinging off the side of the tower and out of sight. Seamlessly (thank you, Nino- he was definitely getting a lot of video editing practice in while helping her), the view switched to the iced-over camera from the lower level. The purple blur that was Hawkmoth appeared and landed, heading unsteadily away across the platform. Another angle switch showed him heading past a camera, then slumping against the wall, fully within the camera's view. There was a flash, and the distortion effect made the view even worse.

"That's what happens when you guys transform and detransform," Alya explained to the superheroes. "It's to help keep your identity safe, I guess."

Ladybug and Chat Noir nodded. Neither looked surprised. Alya had to wonder if maybe their kwamis had already told them that, so that they wouldn't have to scramble to make sure that there were no cameras nearby when they transformed or detransformed. She wouldn't be surprised.

The ice was cleared away in a flash of red, and the three of them watched as the pixilated, staticky Hawkmoth sat on the ground for a bit before getting up. The screen split in two as he walked away, showing the clear feed of the stairs.

"I'm positive that this is Hawkmoth," Alya told them, briefly pausing the video before Hawkmoth could exit the first feed. "Look at what he's wearing there, and then in the next screen. And there shouldn't have been that many people on the Eiffel Tower in the first place. It got evacuated pretty quickly."

"There were a couple employees that got trapped up top, that Volpina girl, and then Hawkmoth," Ladybug agreed. "And those red pants and white top are pretty distinctive. Let's see it, then."

Alya nodded, starting up the feed again. She could feel the tension mount in the room as Hawkmoth headed down the stairs unsteadily, more and more of him coming into view. They hadn't even gotten to his shoulders when Ladybug gasped, a couple words that Alya had never expected to hear from Ladybug slipping out. Less than a second later, when they had gotten as far as Hawkmoth's neck, Chat Noir hissed.

Okay, so apparently the two of them were familiar with Mr. Agreste, then?

"I knew it!" Ladybug half-snarled when Mr. Agreste's face came into view. "He threw me off when he got akumatized- when he akumatized himself- but we have him now."

Chat Noir nodded, strangely pale under his black mask.

"I wanted to show you first, since I'm sure that the police would bungle the whole thing somehow," Alya said, moving over so that Ladybug and Chat Noir could see the screen better. The video had been paused again, with Mr. Agreste in frame. "I don't think that they're entirely able to deal with magic powers."

"Right, right." Ladybug's glare was practically burning through Alya's computer as she stared down the image of Mr. Agreste. She gave herself a good shake and refocused on Alya, all business again. "That's great that you found this, Alya. We probably won't act on it right away-"

Alya nodded eagerly. "You have to plan the final boss battle, right?"

"Well, we have to do a bit of planning, yeah. We want to be safe as possible." Ladybug smiled at Alya, then pulled her yo-yo off of her hip. After tapping away on her screen, a USB stick popped out of the side of her yo-yo. "Do you think you could give me a copy of that video? We might need it in the future, if we do end up using the police to help us."

"Of course!" Alya accepted the Ladybug-patterned USB and plugged it in. She paused as her computer worked to recognize it. "Uh, you'll tell people that I was the one to do this, right?"

"Of course! I wouldn't deny you your credit, Alya," Ladybug assured her. "Actually, have you added the Ladyblog watermark to it yet? We can wait if you want to do that first."

Alya startled because oh, yeah, that was definitely something she should have done and then preened. "You noticed that?" It was something that most people didn't even register when they were watching, but it had taken Alya several tries to get the watermark to work on uploaded videos and several weeks of testing to get it to automatically show up on livestreams. Max had helped her a bit with that, but it had mostly been Alya's trial and error that finally had them figuring it out.

"Yeah. It's smart, since there's a ton of knock-off blogs now." Ladybug watched as Alya quickly clicked through her settings, inserting her new and improved (thank you, Marinette) Ladyblog logo into the corner of the whole video. She saved it, then made a copy for Ladybug. It took a minute to transfer. "How much of the fight does that include?"

"The last five minutes, maybe? And then a couple minutes of Hawkmoth at the end." The file finished loading and Alya ejected Ladybug's USB, handing it back to her. "My boyfriend and I are still working on getting the rest of the footage from the fight put together. When I post it, I'll post the version without Hawkmoth detransforming and his real identity, at least until he's been defeated."

"I think it warrants its own post, honestly." Ladybug tucked the USB back into her yo-yo. "Thank you so much, Alya. I'm sure we'll be in touch."

Alya looked up sharply at that. Ladybug winked, and for a second Alya was confused. Then it dawned on her.

Oh my GOD I'm gonna get the Fox back! I'm gonna be part of the boss battle!

Oh gosh. She wasn't sure if she was ready for that. She had only been out for a handful of battles and saying that it had gone well was probably an overstatement. She was still very much in the middle of a very steep learning curve. But if Ladybug had faith in her, then she wasn't going to let Ladybug down.

Chat Noir nodded in agreement, looking far more serious than Alya had ever seen him before. With a start, she realized that he hadn't said anything after seeing the video. That was pretty strange, but maybe seeing Hawkmoth's secret identity onscreen had really made the possibility of a final battle possible, and Alya knew how final battles went in the comics. Not everyone always made it out in one piece, and as Ladybug's self-appointed shield, Chat Noir was more likely to end up hurt.

...yeah, okay, there were definitely some scary parts to this whole superhero business. Maybe Alya could ask that they do some training sessions before jumping right into the final battle bit.

Ladybug and Chat Noir said their good-byes after that, waving to Alya as they headed out. Just as Ladybug had one leg out the window, something she had said earlier finally caught up with Alya and she reached out, the reporter in her practically begging for answers. "Wait! Ladybug, you said something earlier-"

Ladybug paused, glancing back. "Yeah?"

"You- you said that 'that Volpina girl' was on the Eiffel Tower," Alya started, frowning. "Don't you know her name?"

That got a frown on Ladybug's face. "No, why should I remember her name?"

"Lila said- Lila said that you were best friends!" Alya said, reaching for her computer again. "I have a whole interview on the Ladyblog-"

"I remember seeing part of that," Ladybug said once the page loaded on the Ladyblog. "I had never even met her before that. I did go and tell her to stop trying to use me as a way to get popular after that, but I'm going to guess that she didn't do that. Even though she definitely hates me now for calling her out like that."

Alya spluttered. "But- but she said-"

Ladybug shrugged. "Some people lie to try to get what they want. I'm going to guess that she's lied about a lot of things. She seems the type."

Alya nodded slowly. She- she was starting to get that impression, too. After all, there was the whole issue of Lila being in Paris when she was meant to be traveling. Ladybug's comments shouldn't have surprised her, really, but somehow they still had. It also meant that maybe Alya should do a bit of investigation about that, now that she had let Ladybug and Chat Noir know about Mr. Agreste.

"I certainly wouldn't trust anything that she says," Ladybug added. "But that's just me, of course."

Alya nodded as the superheroes swung off into the night. She watched them go, then turned back to her computer.

If she focused, maybe she could make some progress on what promised to be her second scoop of the summer.

  Alya couldn't deny that she was a bit disappointed when two more weeks went by like normal, akuma attacks happening nearly every day and running just like usual. But it did give her more content for her blog, and that was good, so…

Maybe planning was taking longer than she had thought. Maybe they had a mentor who was on vacation at the moment. Maybe they were staking out the Agreste house to try to figure out where Mr. Agreste transformed.

Alya would have volunteered to go in and do a little poking around to try to find whatever secret entrance Mr. Agreste no doubt had to enter his lair, but she was sort of banned from the house after she had been caught doing a bit of unapproved exploring. At the moment, she was pretty sure that Marinette was the only one of Adrien's close friends who was allowed to actually hang out with him in his house. And there was no way that Alya was going to put Marinette in danger by asking her to poke around, so that was a dead end, at least for now.

So Alya decided to turn to her other scoop: figuring out what, exactly, was going on with Lila's stories.

She knew that Lila was lying about some things, at least: being on a trip abroad for several months, and about being friends with Ladybug. Those were pretty big things, so it was pretty logical to assume that a lot of the other things that she had told them were probably also lies. Still, Alya wanted to do a little digging.

And that little bit of digging turned up a lot.

"Disproving the Jagged Stone's kitten thing was easy," Alya told Nino the next time they met up. "When he was at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, they asked him about pets and he's only ever had Fang. And there aren't any of his songs that could possibly be about her, it's obvious now that I'm looking. But I don't have Prince Ali's number, Rose does, and it's not like I could just call up a bunch of movie directors and ask them- well, I could, but why would they bother replying?"

"Do you really need to find and disprove every last one of her lies?" Nino asked, waving at Adrien and Marinette as they approached from across the park. "I mean, we know. Once we tell everyone else, they'll know, too. But isn't the obvious solution right there?"

Alya gave him a puzzled look. The obvious solution? What did he mean by that? It was obvious that this was another test of her reporting skills, seeing how much information she could seek out. What else was there to it?

"The teachers?" Nino prompted after a few seconds. "If she was just telling a few lies to try to fit in and make kids fast because of new student syndrome, that would be one thing. The teachers wouldn't really care about that. But Lila was trying to get out of things and get favors because of her connections and for her 'illnesses', and she was skipping school. I think that's the kind of thing that would be important for them to know."

Groaning, Alya slouched down on the bench. "Great. Another scoop, and I have to just turn it over to an authority and wait. I hate waiting."

"It's probably an important part of reporting, knowing when to let go and let someone else take over." Nino nudged her shoulder. "Hey, cheer up. It's not like you have to stop digging once you tell Ms. Bustier or Mr. Damocles. Or you could always take the time that you've been using to research Lila's stories and go back to getting the security footage all ready to go up on the Ladyblog. Don't you still have a ton of that to do? And it'll probably get more interest before the final battle is over and Hawkmoth is defeated."

Alya had to give him that. Besides, she was getting more footage every day, and if she waited for too long then school would start again and she would never catch up.

"And if that gets old, we can always hang out with Adrien and Marinette more," Nino added quietly. "We haven't gotten to spend that much time with them this summer- especially you- because we've been busy and they've been busy. And we need to enjoy this while it lasts."

She could only nod in agreement.

As always, it was hard to hang out with Adrien and Marinette without updating them on the biggest scoop of her life. She would have updated them about her Lila research instead, but, well, Marinette clearly had suspected all of the lies already (and Alya had scoffed at her suspicions at the time, whoops) and somehow Alya got the feeling that Adrien had, too. It was all old news to them, and she felt a bit ridiculous that it had taken her so much longer to catch on. On top of that, Alya rather belatedly remembered once telling Marinette that a good reporter always checked her sources when they were discussing Lila. She hadn't done any research or fact-checking of her own then, and now Alya was feeling rather sheepish about how easy it was to disprove the lies that she had once fallen for.

So instead she said nothing. The four of them just hung out and Marinette showed off some of her designs and Nino played a couple of his mixes as they ate their picnic and wandered around the city, enjoying a relatively mild day.

It was normal, and Alya…Alya knew that it was going to end soon. Adrien's father would be arrested and what would happen after that, she didn't knew. Hopefully Adrien would be able to stay in Paris with all of them at the very least.

"It's so hard acting natural with him," Alya told Nino as they headed back to her apartment after their gathering broke up. "Like, I know that his life is going to change a ton soon- well, whenever Ladybug and Chat Noir act- and he's just oblivious. And it's awful."

"He'll be safer once his father is in jail," Nino told her. "Just focus on that. Him and all of Paris."

  Tracking down a teacher in the summer wasn't anywhere near as hard as snagging Ladybug after a fight. As it turned out, Ms. Bustier was teaching summer school and all Alya had to do was get up a little earlier than usual and go in before the summer school students arrived.

And as it turned out, Alya got to see a bit of the fallout. Ms. Bustier was so taken aback by the video footage of Lila clearly in Paris on Heroes Day that she had immediately gone to the computer, looked up the phone number for Lila's mom, and called her up right then and there. It went through, and Alya listened in, trying not to look too interested. She wouldn't be able to stand it if she had to leave the room and miss hearing everything.

"Yes, I was Lila's teacher this past year," Ms. Bustier was saying. "And just this morning, we had some concerns arise about the trip that Lila was on during the school year- no, not before she arrived. She was here for a day and then said that she went on a trip around Europe for several months- you say she didn't leave Paris at all? And-" Ms. Bustier listened and then frowned. "No, we didn't close the school for akuma attacks, at least not for any extended period of time. We occasionally have had to evacuate and closed the school for the remainder of the afternoon or the morning, but we never even closed for an entire day, let alone any longer period of time. The akumas don't disrupt us that much."

Alya's eyebrows shot up. Another scoop! Lila must have told her mom that they were doing online learning in place of going in to the classroom, and somehow her mom had never checked on that. Kind of like how the school had clearly never verified Lila's claim of being out of the country.

….that seemed like a fairly large breakdown in communication, honestly.

"Lila must have lied to both of us, then," Ms. Buster was saying. "She will face consequences for that when school resumes in the fall. And- yes, consequences at home would be a good idea, too. Ah- if you have time, I wanted to ask about some of Lila's other claims?"

Alya listened raptly as Ms. Bustier listed off as many of Lila's stories as she could remember, with occasional help from Alya chiming in. On the other end of the line, Lila's mom was clearly denying that any of those things had ever happened. When she heard Lila's claims about tinnitus and arthritis, she exploded on the other end of the line, loud enough for Alya to hear halfway across the room.

Clearly someone was going to be getting in a lot of trouble tonight. Alya wasn't going to be surprised if Volpina made another appearance.

"Well, that was….something," Ms. Bustier said with a sigh once she had hung up several minutes later. "Some of Lila's stories had seemed far-fetched when she was telling them, but there were so many that I thought that there would be no way that she would lie that much. I didn't see any reason for her to. But clearly I was wrong."

Alya nodded. She had kind of taken the same approach, honestly. One out-of-place story would have been suspicious. Dozens of them? There had to be some truth there.

Apparently not.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Alya," Ms. Bustier told her. She looked tired. "I'm sure Lila's mom and I will be in contact to keep a situation like this from happening again. And… while I would normally ask you to not share this with other people, since you overheard a phone call I had about another student and normally we don't do that, this time it's fine. Normally everyone would know all of that already. And I might send out an email tonight to the families, since Lila was trying to manipulate people with her 'connections' and we need to cut that off." She sighed, massaging her temples. "I'll add it to my list of things to do. And- oh, my students are coming in now. Was there anything else, Alya?"

Alya shook her head. "No. That's it. Well-" she hesitated, thinking up one last question, something that had been bugging her ever since she shared her video with Ladybug and Chat Noir. She hadn't wanted to ask her parents (and they weren't likely to know anyway), but Ms. Bustier might be able to put her mind at rest. "I had a hypothetical question."

A hint of a smile showed up on Ms. Bustier's face. "Ah, yes, the famous hypothetical question. What were you wondering, Alya?"

"If- hypothetically- if someone were to only have one parent and that parent got arrested, what would happen to them?" Alya asked, hoping that Ms. Bustier would know. "Hypothetically!"

Ms. Bustier frowned. "Does this have something to do with Lila? She still has both parents, Alya, even if they aren't together."

"No, nothing to do with that whole mess," Alya said quickly. "And it's hypothetical."

That got a smile on Ms. Bustier's face. "Alya, in my experience, the more hypotheticals someone adds to a question, the less hypothetical it is." The smile vanished as she grew serious again. "As for your question…. well, if they have relatives around who are able and willing to take them, then they would likely go there. Otherwise, a trusted family friend might take custody….though if one parent was arrested, the family friends would be very closely examined to make sure they were innocent."

Alya nodded. She still didn't know where that would leave Adrien. Were Nathalie and the Gorilla innocent in all of this?

"Is there…" Ms. Bustier glanced at the door, then back at Alya. She lowered her voice. "Alya, can I ask who you're asking for? So I can be on the lookout to help?"

"It…" Alya hesitated. She didn't want to go and spoil Ladybug and Chat Noir's work, but it wouldn't hurt to have an adult looking after them, too. "I don't know how much I can say, because it's an ongoing investigation…"

Ms. Bustier frowned. "Alya, what have you gotten involved with?"

"It's a Ladybug and Chat Noir thing! I'm not getting tangled up with normal criminals," Alya assured her teacher. Ms. Bustier didn't look any more happy with that.

"Magical criminals aren't any better. That might be worse, actually. Alya…"

"I just did some research for them," Alya assured her. "There was no legwork involved."

Ms. Bustier didn't look convinced.

"And I promise I'll let you know more as soon as I can." Alya shifted from foot to foot, glancing towards the door as the noise level outside got a little louder. "And I'll try to stay safe."

"Coming from the girl that goes charging towards akuma fights, I'm not sure how reassuring that is," Ms. Bustier said with a sigh. "But- Alya, let me give you my phone number and my email. Contact me when you're allowed to. Promise me."

"I will," Alya vowed.

  Finally, finally, Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up at Alya's window again, only an hour after she got back from the school. Much to her excitement, they were carrying her Miraculous.

"There's no boss battle today, but we think that we'll need the Fox's powers," Ladybug told her. "So we thought of you, of course."

Alya grinned as she accepted the box and opened it up, beaming as her kwami popped into view. "Hi, Trixx!"

"Hiya, Alya!"

"So what are we going to be doing?" Alya asked eagerly as she hooked her Miraculous around her neck. "Training?"

Ladybug laughed. "Not quite. Your comment about the police gave us an idea, that we might be able to use them to set a trap. So we told them about Mr. Agreste and showed them your evidence, on the condition that they'll follow our lead and not try to take him on on their own. They're going to get him to come in to the station, where he'll have a harder time transforming."

"We didn't want to try to attack him in his lair," Chat Noir chimed in. "We scoped it out a little- well, my kwami did- and what we found was…. well, disturbing. And we have our suspicious about Mayura, and we don't want them nearby, either. One at a time is easier."

Alya frowned. "So… what are we doing today?"

"Well, the police are going to call Mr. Agreste today to claim that they have a lead about where Mrs. Agreste is," Chat Noir said, glancing at Ladybug. "And that he has to come in- in person, not via Skype- to look over some things. We want to see his reaction to the call."

Alya was still officially lost as to why they needed her.

"But we want to hear it, too," Ladybug continued, seamlessly picking up where Chat Noir picked off. "And- we asked Trixx about this- if you do a small illusion, maybe something not very big or noticeable- then you can use it as basically a- what do you call it, Chat Noir? Those spy things?"

"Why do you assume that I would know what they're called?" Chat Noir pouted at Ladybug, and honestly, Alya regretted ever thinking that the two of them were cool. "They're like the Extendable Ears things in Harry Potter, I guess?"

"It's essentially like setting a bug," Alya corrected them dryly. Then she perked up. "Oh! I'll be doing the listening! That's cool!"

"Do you have the time?" Ladybug asked her. "Like, you don't have to babysit today, do you?"

Alya laughed as she shook her head. "Nah, Nora's taking Ella and Etta for the week. It's about time, too, since I did most of the babysitting during the school year."

"Good." Ladybug headed towards the window. "Ready? Or do you need to let someone know that you're going out?"

"I'll tell my mom that I'm going out with my boyfriend," Alya decided after a moment's thought. "And then I'll transform in the alleyway. Meet me down there?" she added.

"Of course," Ladybug agreed easily. Chat Noir nodded.

Alya made to move towards her door again, then paused and glanced back at the superheroes. "Do you two have to tell your parents when you're going out, too? What excuse do you use?"

"Oh, I told them I was going out with my boyfriend," Ladybug said breezily, grinning at Alya cheekily. "They were fine with it, of course."

"It's not like she was lying ," Chat Noir added in, his grin twice as cheeky. "After all, she's hanging out with me."

Ten minutes into their stakeout, Rena Rouge still hadn't managed to get a straight answer out of Ladybug and Chat Noir about whether they were kidding about the dating thing or not. She wanted to think so, of course- three big scoops in one summer would be amazing, and confirming Ladynoir would actually be a positive scoop- but they weren't giving her anything.

"Okay, they're going to call in the next couple minutes," Ladybug said, checking her yo-yo. "Rena, send in the mini-illusion. And then we're going to have to focus."

"This won't set off my timer?" Rena Rouge checked one more time. "Because that would stink to miss anything."

"No, it only uses a fraction of your power. Trixx said you would have half an hour at the least before the timer might start counting down." Ladybug glanced at her yo-yo again, then hunkered down on the rooftop. "And we have to make sure that we're not seen. If we are…"

Rena Rouge nodded. Mr. Agreste might just start acting instead of actually reacting realistically, and they didn't want that. That would completely defeat the purpose of coming out at all. It was a basic rule of stake-outs, really.

Bringing her flute to her lips, Rena played a short tune, envisioning a small white butterfly as she flicked the light off of the end. It formed and fluttered away, headed right for the house. Rena Rouge bit her lip as she watched it go, hoping that she had done it right. They wouldn't know right away, but hopefully they had a couple minutes for her to check the butterfly's hearing abilities first.

"A little lower- to the side- yes, hover it right there," Chat Noir urged, peeping over the side of the rampart. "Or maybe have it land against the house."

"Done and done." Rena held down her ears and peeped over for a moment as well before flattening herself to the rooftop. "Okay, and now I listen, I guess…?"

On top of her head, her fox ears twitched back and forth as she tried to focus on her connection with the butterfly illusion. Slowly, she started picking up voices. As Rena strained to listen, they got louder.

"-this zipper isn't the right shade to go with this fabric, what was the sewing room thinking? It's too bright, it'll catch the light if even a hint of the zipper isn't covered. Must I really specify every single bit of the design? What's next, telling the sewing room that the right side of the fabric is meant to face out?"

Great. Fashion talk. Nothing interesting yet.

Nathalie's voice joined Gabriel's. "I'll look into it at once and see who was responsible. I'll let them know that this will be a dark mark on their record and further mistakes will put their job in jeopardy."

"See that you do. I won't stand for employees that can't use their brain when sewing."

"Anything?" Ladybug whispered, making Rena Rouge startle. "Does it work?"

"It works. They're just talking fashion. Something about the wrong finish on a zipper."

Oddly enough, Ladybug looked interested. "Wait, what-"

"Not the time, Bug," Chat Noir murmured, and Ladybug settled down with a bit of a pout.

The banal fashion talk continued for another minute, and Rena tried not to groan as it turned to the business side of the fashion house. She was saved, though, by the ringing of a phone.

"It's happening!" Rena Rouge told Ladybug and Chat Noir, pulling their attention back from whatever whispered conversation they were having. "The police are calling, and Nathalie is headed over to get it!"

The other superheroes froze, then scrambled into position. Rena Rouge returned her attention to the conversation, though there wasn't really much to it. Nathalie was listening more than talking, and her tone gave nothing away.

"She's impossible to read," she faintly heard Ladybug complain. "C'mon, give something away."

"She's thanking them now," Rena Rouge relayed. "And hanging up- now shush so I can listen!"

The other superheroes shushed.

Rena Rouge held still as a statue, listening closely as Nathalie relayed the police's message to Mr. Agreste. Next to her, Ladybug and Chat Noir huddled around her yo-yo, watching Mr. Agreste's expression on the zoomed-in feed.

"He looks super annoyed," Ladybug whispered. "There's- there's something not right there. Why would he look annoyed?"

"If he knows that they can't have a lead, maybe," Chat Noir suggested after a second. "Or can't have a correct lead, at least." He was pale. "He's a supervillain. Do you think-"

"Shh! I'm trying to listen!" Rena hissed at them. "I don't want to miss anything!"

Ladybug and Chat Noir promptly shut up.

"They would come here if they suspected anything about us," Gabriel was telling Nathalie. Down below, Rena could see him pacing, going back and forth in front of the window. "If they suspected that we know what happened, or that we know where Emilie is, they would come here and take us into custody. No, they've found some false lead. But I'm still going to have to go in, just to keep up appearances."

Rena Rouge gasped. Adrien's father knew where his wife was? That was awful. Had he done something to her?

"What did they say?" Chat Noir wanted to know. "What-"

"Shh, I'm listening!"

"I said that I would call them back once I had talked with you about when we could go in. Unless you just want me to go?"

"No, they would consider that strange. I'm going to need to go in myself." Gabriel scowled. "And they're going to expect me to be rushing in right away. It's what anyone else would do. When…?"

"They said that the detective would be in all day tomorrow, just choose a time. You have meetings throughout the morning, then a break from eleven fifteen to two forty-five, then again after five."

Rena Rouge reached blindly for the notepad that she had brought along, scribbling that down. Just in case.

"I'll meet with them at twelve-thirty. That gives me some time if anything runs over." Gabriel sounded irritated. "I hope it doesn't run for long. I need to get some designing done."

"Of course, sir."

"And I'm going to go check on Emilie now. I want you to keep an eye on her tomorrow, while I'm at the meeting. Just in case."

Nathalie was frowning, and it was clear in her voice. "You think they might be up to something?"

"Something doesn't feel right. Why would they even think that they might have any leads on Emilie? It's impossible." Gabriel headed over to the portrait of his wife. "I don't like it."

"Wishful thinking, perhaps. Or they've actually got a lead on some other missing person, but they just misidentified them."

"He said he was going to check on Emilie," Rena Rouge hissed. "Keep an eye on him. Watch what he does."

The dual curse that she got from Ladybug and Chat Noir wasn't unexpected this time.

"I'm switching this to video mode," Ladybug announced. "Chat Noir-"

Chat Noir already had his baton out. "I'll take a backup video, so we don't miss anything."

"One would hope that Paris's esteemed police department would be more careful than that." Mr. Agreste didn't sound impressed as he addressed Nathalie. "But I agree, that's the most likely explanation. You can take care of calling the police back?"

"Of course."

They fell quiet, and Rena Rouge glanced over at Ladybug and Chat Noir. They both had intense looks of concentration on their faces as they manipulated their screens. Within a minute, both let out an exclamation and sat back.

"He's got some sort of elevator built into the floor," Ladybug explained to Rena Rouge. "And the buttons are built into the painting. We're going to have to look at the recording more closely to figure out exactly what they are. Hopefully that goes straight to- to wherever Mrs. Agreste is."

"Are you going to try to find her?" Rena Rouge asked excitedly, visions of a stealth mission already dancing through her head. "Are you going to break in in the middle of the night and push the buttons and-"

"We're going to go in once both Hawkmoth and Mayura have had their Miraculous removed and are in police custody," Ladybug said firmly. "We don't want to make Mr. Agreste any more suspicious than he already is."

…Rena supposed that that made sense.

They didn't stick around for long after that. Nathalie called the police back and when Mr. Agreste hadn't reappeared by the time the call ended, they decided that that was about as much information as they were going to get today.

"Are you going to need me tomorrow?" Alya asked once they were back in her room. She didn't want to give up her Miraculous, not yet. "For the confrontation?"

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged a glance, then Ladybug rolled up on her tiptoes to whisper something into his ear. After a quick discussion, they seemed to reach a consensus.

"There's not going to be much of a battle, hopefully," Ladybug said slowly. "I mean, I'm going to restrain him as soon as he gets into the room- or as soon as I get into the room, I don't think we've decided which way we're doing it yet."

"I'd say have the detective give him a made-up story first," Chat Noir suggested. "Then he'll be more relaxed."

"Right. But Mayura is still a wild card. So maybe keep the Miraculous and Trixx will let you know if we need help. If things go smoothly, we'll let you know when you can make your post about Hawkmoth's identity," Ladybug told her. "You might want to have that ready to go as soon as we contact you. I'd be surprised if the police don't make the announcement as soon as they can, so you'll want to beat them."

Alya nodded. "Already written and formatted. I just have it in my drafts and set on private posting right now, just to be safe."

"Good." Ladybug smiled. "We'll be in touch, Alya! Have a good rest of your evening."

"I'll try," Alya said wryly, trying not to think about how Adrien's life was soon going to be uprooted. "I'll try."

  "I can't believe we're hanging out this morning. This morning, of all times!"

"Well, it's our last chance to do it normally." Nino squeezed her hand. "D'you think you can manage to act normal for a bit?"

Alya winced. Honestly, after hearing what she had the previous day about Adrien's mom? She might have to refrain from talking to Adrien too much until after everything came out.

"And speaking of normal- or not so much," Nino murmured all of a sudden, shaking Alya's arm. "I know Adrien and Marinette were getting closer- well, you've missed most of that, actually, since you've been so busy- but look at them!"

Alya's head shot up. Her two other friends were headed down the street together, Marinette's arm wrapped around Adrien's. Their heads were close together as they talked, and Alya couldn't deny it- they looked a lot closer than they had been even only a couple weeks before. She wanted to squeal with glee- if they weren't dating now, they were definitely close- but at the same time, she couldn't deny the tendril of dread that curled around her heart.

She wanted Adrien and Marinette to be together, of course. Marinette had had a crush on him for so long, and they would be adorable together. But now?

Adrien would be going through the hardest part of his life soon, and there was no way that he'd actually be in a state of mind to be a good boyfriend during that time. They might be able to weather it if they were in an established relationship, but with a barely-started one?

Alya didn't want their relationship to crash and burn before it had even gotten a proper chance.

"Okay, but at least Marinette will be amazing at supporting him," Nino pointed out, almost as though he were reading Alya's mind. "And if they aren't dating this morning, what are the chances that they'll be able to start before everything? I mean, there's two hours before he goes in to the station. There'll only be, what? Thirty minutes max before he gets arrested?"

"I wish we could warn him somehow before the news breaks, but there's no way." Alya frowned. "D'you suppose I should try to contact Ladybug and Chat Noir and ask...?"

"They're pretty compassionate, Alya. I'd be super surprised if they haven't already come up with a plan." Nino squeezed her arm reassuringly. "I bet that the police are planning to send someone to talk to Adrien before they let you know that you can post the video."

"I hope so."

"Someone sure looks serious today," Marinette called, and Nino and Alya hastily broke apart."Did someone rain on your parade?"

It certainly felt like a dark stormcloud was overhead, just waiting to burst, but Alya couldn't say that. Instead, she forced a smile. "We were just discussing having to babysit the twins and Chris later this week. They don't exactly get along well."

Marinette made a face at that. "Ugh. Yeah, I can see where they might clash a little. But- oh! Do you know who Chris would probably love? Max! He's big on all of the 'big kid stuff', as Chris calls it."

Nino grinned. "Oh, you are absolutely right. I'll text Max about that and see if he's even interested in spending a bit of time with Chris."

Alya had thought that the anticipation would make the morning absolutely creep by. She wasn't wrong- but anticipation wasn't the only thing making it go so slowly.

It was worry, it was concern, it was the nagging feeling that maybe she should say something to Marinette and suggest that she and Adrien hold off on dating, if they hadn't already started.

Surely they would have said something if they had decided to start dating in the world's absolute worse sense of timing? Alya thought they would, but then again Adrien and Marinette were clearly super close now, far more than they had been even a week earlier. Right now, Adrien was sitting with his head pillowed in Marinette's lap, looking thoroughly content as Marinette ran her fingers through his hair. Earlier, they had seemed practically glued together at the hip. It was clear couple behavior, and it was making Alya nervous.

And then at the end of their little friend get-together, the two of them left together. Alya peered after them and spotted their interlaced hands.

That was not good.

"Don't worry too much about it, babe," Nino told her. "Marinette's smart, she'll understand that Adrien won't be feeling his normal self for a bit and she won't judge him for it. And maybe they'll even be together when the police find him. It'll be good for him to have someone actually supportive around when he gets the news."

Alya couldn't help but worry about it. She worried about it while she ate lunch (read: played with her food). She worried about it while she washed up their dishes (read: ran the dishes absently under water and waved the sponge vaguely in their direction). And she especially worried about it as she got everything set up in her room, ready for Ladybug's message.

The clock ticked forward. Alya watched as it reached twelve-thirty, then twelve thirty-five, twelve forty, twelve forty-five...

Surely the superheroes had taken Hawkmoth's Miraculous by now. Alya pulled up a news feed from Paris, nervous that something had gone wrong.

Ugh. She would have much preferred being there herself.

Twelve forty-seven. Twelve forty-eight.

"They likely have to find and inform Adrien first," Trixx reminded her. "I'm not feeling any signs of distress from Plagg or Tikki."

Twelve forty-nine. Twelve fifty-

Alya's phone dinged with a message. She grabbed for it.

Ladybug: Hawkmoth and Mayura in custody. Go ahead and post, then come down to the police station ASAP. They'll be making an official announcement at 1:15.

Alya grinned, reaching for her computer. After one last check- the post time would be correct, the post would be public, not private, and it would sent out an alert to all of her subscribers just like the live akuma streams always did- Alya hit post. The page refreshed and there it was, right at the top of the page.

Hawkmoth's Identity Revealed!

  Ladyblog Live Stream: Paris police announce the capture of Hawkmoth and Mayura; Ladybug and Chat Noir victorious!

"Today, at twelve thirty, Paris police called Gabriel Agreste in for questioning. At twelve forty-one, we made an arrest, and his Miraculous was confiscated. At twelve forty-five, we determined Mayura's identity to be Nathalie Sancoeur and arrested her several minutes later. At this moment, Ladybug and Chat Noir are searching the mansion, trying to locate the Peacock Miraculous."

"How did you discover his identity?"

"We were presented with a video put together by the Ladyblog that showed Hawkmoth detransforming on Heroes Day. Without the Ladyblogger's efforts to go through all of the footage from the akuma attacks, we would have been unable to make this breakthrough. She presented the video to the superheroes a couple weeks ago and then they brought it to us so that we could collaborate on our strategy to take him down. We wanted to avoid a battle as to avoid unnecessarily endangering our superheroes and the citizens of Paris, so we called him in using a cover story that we had found a lead on his wife, Emilie Agreste's, disappearance. It was an effective strategy, and there was very little struggle."

"And Mayura? How did you find out who she was?"

"Gabriel Agreste told us, though not intentionally. He called out her names while caught off guard when Ladybug restrained him. Police waiting close to the house had no trouble getting in and arresting her as well."

"Are there more suspected collaborators?"

"Not at the moment, though we are keeping the possibility in mind."

"How did Mr. Agreste get his hands on the Miraculous?"

"We don't know that. It will certainly be part of our investigation. That is all the information that we have at this time."

  Three Months Later

Alya couldn't help but grin as she looked around her room. Clipped articles hung from her walls, chronicling the crazy, crazy journey that she had been on ever since she discovered Hawkmoth's identity. Her classmates had helped her collect every article that had been written about the arrests and all of the subsequent investigations, and now they papered her walls.

Ladyblog Breaks the Case! read one, featured predominantly. Below was a still from her famous video, with Gabriel Agreste headed down the stairs of the Eiffel Tower. The article was one that she had memorized, and in particular the section with the interview that Ladybug and Chat Noir had given the city's reporters. They had given her full credit for figuring out who Hawkmoth was, and even for giving them the idea to collaborate with the police.

Her blog had gotten a huge spike in attention when she posted the video unveiling Hawkmoth. It had gotten an even bigger spike after that, with everyone who heard the interview curious about what other work Alya had done. She had had to resist the urge to go back and edit all of her early articles, the ones that had included a whole lot of inaccurate speculation and fangirling. Those hadn't been great reporting at all, but in the end Alya let them be, as an example of how much her work had improved over the past months.

She had, however, gone back and switched the page with Lila's "interview" to private, keeping the footage as a just-in-case but not wanting to keep that train wreck of lies up.

(That particular investigation of hers had ended up having a newspaper article of its own, since the news that a collège student had skipped several months of school by lying to both school and her mom about her whereabouts was pretty insane. Mylène was the one who had spotted the article, which didn't mention the student by name but did say that the student would be attending a school for troubled youth in the fall rather than going back to their previous school. That was probably for the better, because, well, none of Lila's former classmates had been particularly thrilled about being duped for so long.)

Alya moved her attention on to the next section of wall. There had been a whole slew of discoveries right after the arrests- a book about the Miraculous, a cursed Miraculous pin, scrolls in some strange code, Hawkmoth's lair (armed with a crazy amount of weapons), and notes about combining the Ladybug and Chat Noir Miraculous. And then, right after that-

EMILIE AGRESTE FOUND- ALIVE, CURSED, ASLEEP

-Adrien's mother had been found under the mansion, sealed away in a glass coffin. Ladybug and Chat Noir had taken her, the cursed Miraculous (and Hawkmoth's Miraculous), the book, and all of the scrolls to an undisclosed location. Two weeks later, Emilie Agreste had showed up in the hospital, tired and weak but awake and alive. Adrien had been thrilled, and doubly so when the superheroes and the police announced that Mrs. Agreste wasn't guilty of any wrongdoing and was free to resume her life. Mrs. Agreste had largely kept to herself after her return, preferring to stay in the mansion rather than going out, but Adrien had said that that was because she was still recovering from being in a coma for so long- she got tired very easily- and she didn't want to be harassed by reporters searching for an interview.

Alya had only met her once, and briefly. Marinette, who spent a ton of time in the Agreste manor (even though she claimed that she and Adrien weren't dating yet), said that Mrs. Agreste was a perfectly lovely if perhaps very nervous woman.

(Once, Alya had asked if she was good mother-in-law material. Marinette had turned bright red and said nothing, which- well, Alya could tease, but she wasn't going to push. Not yet, anyway.)

Smiling at the memory, Alya continued running her finger down the wall. Under the batch of articles about Mrs. Agreste's discovery, recovery, and innocence from the Hawkmoth mess was another headline, this one smaller.

No Further Suspects in Hawkmoth Case

According to Adrien, absolutely everyone in the household had been questioned, including him. He had been pretty quiet for several days after that, and Alya suspected that he had been shaken by whatever interrogation that the police put him through. He had been taken out of the mansion by child services during the questioning and subsequent searches, which hadn't helped at all. Thankfully Ms. Bustier had stepped in at once, taking Adrien in until his mom was released from the hospital.

All the questioning ended up producing was false leads that petered out, and a few small charges against the people who had created the system to get up to the lair and down to Mrs. Agreste's cavern but hadn't mentioned it as anything out of the ordinary and worth looking into at any point, but no one else who had worked directly with Hawkmoth or known about his secret identity. Adrien's bodyguard came up clean, which both Adrien and his mom seemed relieved about.

Thankfully Adrien didn't seem to hold any hard feelings towards Alya for being the one to find out about his father. She had worried about that after he was questioned, since she had seen him talking to Marinette but not her, but Nino had assured her that Adrien wasn't really talking to anyone else, either. After a few days, though, he was mostly back to normal.

Trial for Gabriel Agreste Starting Today: What to Expect

The trial went on for several weeks, and as the person who had found the video evidence, Alya had to go in. Much to Alya's delight, Rena Rouge had been called in as well for one last hurrah, testifying in front of the jury about what she had overheard when the police called the manor. Saying good-bye to Trixx after that had been hard, because she really, really doubted that she would get the Miraculous back again. There wasn't a need for it to be out and, as they had just seen, it was dangerous for too many Miraculous to be out and about in case someone was trying to find them.

She would be fine, though. Being a superhero had been cool, but she was being taken seriously as a reporter now, and that was super-cool, too.

GUILTY! Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur Both Sentenced

Hawkmoth and Mayura Behind Bars For Good

The End of Terror in Paris: Hawkmoth Trial Ends with Guilty on All Counts

There had been celebrations in the streets that night, and the balloons for all of the city's superheroes had flown again. Alya rather suspected that the mayor had something to do with that, since only Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Rena Rouge had been directly involved with Hawkmoth's defeat, but she wasn't going to complain. After all, her boyfriend's balloon got to be part of the parade, too. Alya and Nino had been in the thick of the celebrations, and so many people had gone up to her to thank her for her role in discovering Hawkmoth's identity and get a photo with her.

Alya was pretty certain that she had blushed for the entire evening. It had been a bit overwhelming for sure, but hardly in a bad way. The superheroes had dropped in partway through to pose for pictures with her, and the photos had ended up on the front page of the newspaper the next day.

And now...

"Alya, are you coming? We need to leave soon!"

"I'm almost ready!" Alya called back, smoothing down her dress for the awards ceremony. She checked her reflection in the mirror- the dress fit her to perfection, thanks to Marinette's tailoring skills- before returning her attention to the final clipping, one that she had only just put up that morning.

Paris's Ladyblogger to Receive Young Journalist of the Year Award

"Alya!"

"Coming!" Alya called back. With one last look at her wall, she headed out the door, smiling to herself. The past few months had been pretty crazy, but honestly?

She wouldn't change it for anything.

[welllpthisishappening]

Hi! It’s the Nova anon! I just wanted to say thanks because the blue line series always makes me feel better when I re-read it. Today my roommate that I’ve lived with since freshman year told me she doesn’t want to live together next year so I was really upset and decided to read the PyeongChang Triple again and it made me really happy. Thanks so much for all of your writing! It’s the best!!

Oh hai Nova ‘non. I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad there was something there to help. Roommates can always be a kind of hit or miss, but I’ve got no doubt you’ll find someone who isn’t only a top notch person, but also has very strong opinions on Jay Wright’s suits and the strength of the Big East as a whole. In the meantime, here’s some hockey fluff for you because it’s the Dad’s Trip for the Rangers this weekend and we should all have feelings:

“He’s trying to organize my locker.”

“He’s having a good time!”

“Nuh uh, I genuinely think he’s losing his mind. He came into the locker room and started examining my stick tape.”

“Well, I mean, you’ve got a ton of stick tape,” Emma pointed out, but that was only met with another groan and the single most ridiculous eye roll she’d ever seen in her life. “This is a good thing.”

“He’s taking this way too seriously,” Killian argued. “This is not the first time Mr. V has been on this trip.”

“It is the first time he’s responsible for two of you, though.”

Killian gritted his teeth, the objection almost obvious on the tip of his tongue from the visitor’s locker room in Florida. He didn’t actually say anything though and Emma shouldn’t have taken some kind of twisted victory in that, but the whole thing was absurdly sentimental and decidedly familial and—

“Ah, that’s true,” Killian sighed. “Although now I seem like kind of a jerk.”

“Nah, you seem like someone who’s questionably worried about his stick tape.”

“It’s an exact science, Swan.”

Emma hummed, eyes flitting towards the half door at the other end of the hall and the two year old who better still be taking a mid-afternoon nap if they were going to last an entire night at the restaurant without any sort of meltdown. “Still asleep,” she mumbled. “Do you think you get, like, super Dad power now? With Mr. V there and your own kid here—what would you call it? Dad squared?”

“That may be a less exact science, honestly.”

“It sounds more impressive than anything to do with stick tape.”

Killian clicked his tongue, fingers finding the back of his hair when he leaned forward slightly. “Lucas said there were half a dozen want to be stories.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. It’s a good story.”

“They should lead with the stick tape part.”

“You’re being difficult on purpose,” Emma accused, mostly so she could work a smile out of him and that was probably a less twisted type of victory. Killian shook his head.

“I’m not. I just—“

“—Scarlet probably wouldn’t want the press.”

“Exactly that.”

And, really, Emma understood – on both fronts, because it was an incredible story and an emotional story, but the last few weeks had been decidedly depressing and Will kept hitting people a little harder than normal, like the loss of everything was only manageable when he was pushing another human being into the boards.

Will had promised he was fine, sworn up and down several different metaphorical posts and, maybe, the actual goal post, just because he could and, possibly, because Ariel kept trying to stage interventions in the hallway of the Garden, but he was an exceptionally bad liar. It was honestly starting to get insulting.

He’d only missed one game – for the wake and the funeral and Will told them not to come. “You guys are on an eight-game point streak,” he’d said. “Don’t fuck that up for me.”

They won the game.

And Emma almost trusted the smile on Will’s face when he got back.

Or she thought she had until, a few days before when Belle had tugged Killian into the corner of the restaurant and there was some murmuring and questions and rocking back and forth on their feet. And Mr. Vankald had agreed enthusiastically – one dad for two hockey kids with slightly depressing backstories and far too many stick tape superstitions.

It was an exceptionally good story.

“Ruby won’t let that see the light of day,” Emma promised. “She can get requests from here to San Jose. It won’t make a difference.”

Killian’s eyebrows jumped. “Was that the farthest city you could think of?”

“Be impressed by my geographic knowledge.”

“Be impressed by stick taping technique.”

She laughed, doing her best to keep the sound as quiet as she could because she really was not trying to deviate from the nap schedule. “Where are they even? Don’t you guys have stuff to do?”

“Probably practicing slap shots somewhere.”

“Ah, is that a note of kid-type jealousy I hear, Cap?”

“Nah,” Killian shook his head, but Emma could hear that lie too. She pursed her lips. “I mean, maybe. No. God, no, actually. Because then I sound like a jerk and this is nice. I just—“

“—Want your stick tape left in the right order?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but there were footsteps coming and Emma had to bite back another laugh when Killian sat up a bit straighter. “You look like you’re about to get grounded,” she mumbled, digging her teeth into her lower lip when he glared at her.

“Not grounded,” Mr. Vankald promised as he moved into the frame. He was wearing head-to-toe blue and a Rangers hat, but there was a ‘C’ on his t-shirt and the tips of Killian’s ears had gone red. “Maybe reprimanded a little. And wondering if he was ever going to come out on the ice.”

Killian blinked. “You guys were on the ice?”

“And waiting for you, Cap,” Will said. He waved at the camera when Killian turned slightly. “Hey, Em. Did he call to say hi to you or just to see if Dr. J was awake?”

“If that kid wakes up in the next forty-five minutes I’m going to walk to Florida and punch all of you in the face. I mean, not you, Mr. V, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, the hint of a smile tugging at the ends of his mouth. “Very strict nap schedule, huh?”

“He wants to watch the game.”

“Ah, I can’t even make fun of that,” Will groaned, dropping next to Killian.

Emma made a face. “Stop the presses.”

“You’re hysterical.”

“You were making horrible jokes.”

Will shrugged, gritting his teeth when Killian elbowed him in the side and mumbled something that sounded like move, God under his breath. He didn’t move. “Something about a defense mechanism or something.”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma said. She kind of wished she was in Florida. For several different reasons, but partially because she knew Killian had called partially on the off chance that they weren’t following the nap schedule and partially because Will Scarlet wasn’t very good at pretending he was ok.

Mr. Vankald clapped him on the shoulder. And smiled at Emma.

“Why’d you guys come back in here?” Killian asked, working another sound out of Will.

“Cap, are you kidding me? They’re doing some kind of skills thing for the internet and, oh shit, did you come up with that, Em?”

She was going to bite her lip in half. Or possibly just melt under Killian’s gaze. He stared at her with something that felt like disbelief and, maybe, wishing she were in Florida too.

“Swan?”

“Aw c’mon, it’s not a big deal,” she mumbled. “And, yeah, I did. I—well, Rubes and I were talking about promo and they’ve got cooperate sponsors for this now, which is insane and—“

“—Focus, Em,” Will chuckled.

“Shut up. Anyway. They’ve got sponsors and that means more content and a video of you guys teaming up with your dads and trying to score against other guys…well, it made sense. Imagine those clicks.”

“Those clicks,” Killian repeated, and the look got stronger or more something and they all froze when a noise came from the other end of the hall.

“A ridiculous number of clicks. And good internet vibes.”

“Can I make fun of that?” Will asked, Killian already nodding in agreement.

“Shut up,” Emma repeated.

He saluted. And Mr. Vankald started to laugh – quiet at first, with one hand still on Will’s shoulder and only half of him in the camera frame and Emma wasn’t sure where to look, but her eyes kept flitting back to Killian and his slightly red ears and—

“Well, this means I win by default, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I’ve got two kids. One with an incredible wrister and the other with stick-handling skills unparalleled by anyone else in the league.”

“He read that off the team website,” Killian muttered.

“It doesn’t make it any less true. We’re absolutely going to win. Locksley and his dad will be distraught.”

“That’s definitely the spirit, Mr. V,” Will grinned, glancing up with something that felt like almost genuine emotion on his face. Emma looked back at Killian.

He winked.

“Must be a family trait.”

“Something like that,” Emma agreed. “I think that means you guys are guaranteeing goals later. Or at least points. An assist to set up each other? That’s poetic, right?”

“There is no poetry in hockey, Em,” Will argued.

“Isn’t there though? Something about stick handling.”

“Gross. Stop flirting with your husband for two seconds.”

“Was that flirting?”

“I thought it was flirting,” Killian cut in, a flash of a smirk and the tip of his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth. Mr. Vankald laughed again. “Not our best maybe, but everyone goes through these little ups and downs.”

Will gagged, but then there were more footsteps and Robin shouting get on the ice and a stick, somehow, involved and the whole lot of them were overgrown children with their own children and far too competitive fathers. “Can we go?” Robin asked, nodding back towards the door. “Lucas is screaming about plans and posting times for optimal traffic.”

“She has no idea what she’s talking about,” Emma muttered.

“I’m going to tell her that.”

“You missed my face punching threat, but I’m including you in that too.”

“I’m sure you think that makes sense.”

“Alright, alright,” Mr. Vankald said, waving his hands through the air and Emma didn’t think she imagined the way they all rolled their shoulders back. “Let’s not torture Ruby on purpose. And, really, I think it’s about time we all showed off our skills, don’t you think?”

Emma met Killian’s smile with one of her own.

“Yeah,” Will said quickly, jumping up with an enthusiasm that belied everything that had happened in the last few weeks. “Let’s go shoot at some things. We’re going to totally wreck you, Locksley.”

Robin tilted his head. “That so?”

“You heard him,” Killian nodded. “Totally wrecked. Don’t you think, Swan?”

She winked. Or tried. It got Killian to laugh again. “Best stick handling in the game.”

And the videos did get a ridiculous number of hits across several different social media platforms – trash talk and technique and a perfectly wrapped stick and Emma got her goal and her assist later that night.

[junqkook]

So I was thinking about EBYT and you said there were hints scattered through the chapters... I know the hint of the book, kookie saying 'you're mine' and the whole situation about Tae. Were there anymore hints that we missed🤔 ALSO I love you and I hope this week is an amazing one with alot of joy and happiness!!♡

ooft ok yeah there were a few things that got missed so i’ll list them below a read more adhsjahds

PART ONE HINTS

When you glanced up at him, you furrowed your brows at the bottom of his left cheek, right above his jaw. Was that blood? He seemed to notice where your gaze was focusing on and he touched it seemingly without thinking. “You alright?” you questioned, the curiosity eating at you; but he had also caught you staring, so you should probably ask something.

“Yeah, just a scratch,” he told you, drumming his fingers against the counter.

— jungkook had gotten scratched by jieun before coming to see the oc and gets nervous when the oc notices the blood.

“Do you usually come here?” you asked him quickly, with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen you in the store before.”

He scratched at the back of his neck before replying. “No, this is my first time coming here. I just transferred to this school for this semester, so I’m trying to find my way around.”

+

Hoseok only winked in return as he gathered his things and left, waving and promising he’d see you later at the party. You sighed and shook your head, setting your sandwich back into the small ziplock bag and shoving it into your backpack.

“There’s a party?” Jungkook brought up, his face reflecting an interest as he watched you.

“Yeah,” you replied, smiling wide. “You should come! It’s tonight at the Theta frat’s house.”

+

“Jungkook, we can’t just sleep here,” you chuckled, wiggling under the weight of his arm.

“Yes we can,” he chirped, blinking his eyes open to look at you. Up close he was even more startlingly beautiful than before, his eyes wide and doe-like and his lips puckering perfectly around every word. “I have a buddy in this frat, Taehyung, and this is his room. He never comes back to his room during parties.”

— jungkook says he just transferred to the university however he says knows a frat boy already and is close enough to him that he can just sleep in his bed. also suspicious that he’d have that close of a ‘buddy’ in the frat but didn’t know about the party there.

Jungkook’s lips pursed for a second. “Isn’t it dangerous to go to a frat party alone?”

You cocked your head to the side. “What do you mean? There’s tons of people there.”

He shrugged and looked away from you almost shyly. “I’ve just been reading the news a lot and there’s been a lot of… incidents around here lately. I’m just worried.”

+

“Yeah,” he said quietly as you made your way back to the sidewalk and began your trek to work now that Hoseok had ditched you. “Be careful.”

— no mention of the news before this and he’s the only one that’s heard about these so-called ‘incidents.’ he tells the oc to be careful even though there’s no real reason for her to need to be careful (unless he knows something she doesn’t) and because he won’t be there to watch her.

“When did you get here?” you asked him, watching him grab a bottle from the counter top and drinking in the sight of his bare forearms, usually covered by his hoodies. He leaned against the counter top and gave you a small bunny-like smile.

“Not that long ago, actually. I had some stuff to do before coming,” he replied. He didn’t expand on what stuff and you hummed, leaning across from him on the island behind you full of snack bowls and more alcohol.

— the ‘stuff’ he was referring to was going to see jieun.

“It’s that guy from last time,” you mumbled, cheeks warm. Seokjin proceeded to “Ooo” and poke your sides as you tried to wave him away. You were laughing and yelped as he jabbed his finger into your waist when the door’s tiny bell rang and your attention was directed there.

A familiar figure walked in, donned in the usual hoodie. “Jungkook!” you breathed, smile still plastered across your face.

— here, jungkook had just texted the oc about her leaving before he woke up. she only just tells him she had an early shift, but he walks into the music store minutes after receiving her text, meaning he’d already been following her and knew her schedule.

“Hey,” he prompted, getting your attention again. “Do you guys have any CDs for The Bravery?”

— this is my fav hint and one that no one got! the band he mentions have a song called “hatefuck” and if you read/listen to the lyrics it’s a big neon sign pointing at jungkook being the stalker.

“I’m fine,” he answered you quietly, shoving his hand into his pocket and wincing as the fabric must have slid roughly against the broken skin. “Me and my frat buddy Taehyung—I told you about him right?” You nodded and he went on, stepping forward and pressing the palm of his hand to your back. “We were messing around this morning when he came back and it got a little rough.” At your worried look, he sent you a blinding smile. “It’s really fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll walk you home.”

— his excuse is always taehyung bc he knows the oc will never meet him. the characters, especially jungkook, aren’t always telling the truth in the story!

PART TWO HINTS

“… come back with the still unidentified suspect on the loose—”

+

Hoseok only raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, but my drama is more important than some news about some guy that got beat up in Daegu.” 

— the news is talking about a man getting beat nearly to death in daegu, aka what jungkook did to taehyung before coming to the oc’s university.

You’d been texting Jungkook on and off, slightly tired from how many texts he sent; he sure was talkative through texts for someone so quiet in real life.

— his delusion of the oc’s and his ‘relationship’ is all in his head so he’s more comfortable communicating through texts since face-to-face encounters can shatter his delusions and ideas about their so-called ‘relationship.’

He brought a hand out to touch your arm, but Namjoon grabbed you and yanked you back, his palm warm and a touch of cold metal kissed your skin by one of his fingers. Your eyes were wide as you stared up at the man, half of his body in front of you. Jungkook’s eyes were ablaze as he looked at Namjoon’s fingers wrapped around your wrist.

+

The severed finger lay beside the tiny box, dried blood smeared across it and a ring resting snugly around it.

— besides the oc, jungkook is the only one mentioned in the fic that notices namjoon’s ring, which is later sent to the oc as a present with the words ‘i’ll always keep you safe.’ jungkook has been repeatedly possessive of the oc so he wants to keep her ‘safe’ from the other men around her.

“He already told me he hurt his hand when he was with his frat buddy, Taehyung, or something like that.”

“Taehyung?” Seokjin asked, brows furrowing again.

— seokjin remembers hearing taehyung’s name on the news, but can’t place it which is why he’s confused after hearing her say jungkook’s friend is tae.

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I usually take you to Hoseok’s place, right? But my place is a lot closer.”

You raised your eyebrows. “How much closer, though?”

Jungkook gave you a soft smile and pinched your arm. You yelped and then you two fell into a fit of giggles as you crossed the street. “A lot closer, actually. I only live a few minutes down this road.”

“Huh,” was all you said. He was pretty close to your apartment—instead of taking a left at the stop, the two of you took a right; only a few blocks away from you, you were guessing.

And you were right, as you two had reached the apartment building within only a few minutes.

— he lives really close to the oc bc he specifically got a place by her to have easier access to her and her schedule/routines.

“—ice have been doing everything they can, but still haven’t been able to locate her or her attacker. Their only hope was Miss Lee’s boyfriend, Kim Taehyung, to wake up from the injuries he sustained months prior in Daegu after allegedly confronting the suspect. However, in an unfortunate turn of events, Mr. Kim passed away from his injuries in the ICU earlier tonight, leaving the police with no le—”

You stopped listening, heart battering your ribcage. Had they said the name Taehyung? Your limbs felt heavy and you suddenly felt too exposed as you turned to look at the man sleeping peacefully beside you. Didn’t he say Taehyung was his friend from your university, not from Daegu?

— last hint! this was the crucial moment when the oc realizes jungkook hasn’t been telling the truth throughout the story and where the readers realize jungkook isn’t a reliable character (can’t trust that he’s always telling the truth, which is where some of the confusion came up with people thinking whatever the characters said was always true).

HOPE THAT HELPED AHDSJAHDS THIS ENDED UP A LOT LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BUT YEAH AKDHSJADH i skipped over more obvious stuff like the things you mentioned with jungkook being possessive and wanting the oc to be ‘his’ during sex. i mentioned the tae reveal just for the whole reliability issue :D

[tearlessrain]

so this turned into Scorpion King: Book of Souls Liveblog Part 1, because I got started late. witness a bunch of people trying to make one man’s considerable hotness singlehandedly carry an entire hour and a half long movie with very limited success under the cut.

I do want to state right up front that there’s only one reason I’m watching this and that reason is that for some reason zach mcgowan is the protagonist, so I’m not really up to date on the whole mummy/scorpion king franchise, the last one I saw was the one with all the jackal dudes and that was a while ago. so I have no idea what’s going on.

oh good they’re just going to town with the exposition, very thoughtful

so if the sword was forged in the fires of hell by anubis then who the heck did they fight when they were taking on the jackal headed dudes because I kinda assumed

are these two series actually related or

holy shit this is so Extra already look at this shit

y’all this is my jam I am living right now

also as people following my art blog may note, I am a huge fan of black and gold aesthetics. this movie is really just ticking off all my boxes right off the bat, it’s terrible, but five stars.

they’re REALLY going to town with the exposition

sword forged in the fires of hell that condemns souls to “the neverending darkness” and must be somehow destroyed... are we talking about anubis or sauron here.

this is just lord of the rings, but bad and with a sword. lord of the sword.

okay prologue is over and some dudes have smashed their way into a tomb. if the last however many mummy movies have taught me anything it’s that this might potentially be a bad idea

I love how they’re just not even setting up any of the characters we’re just diving right in I’m getting strong “yeah you all know the drill by now” vibes here

#squadgoals

really though the gal on the left is pretty badass, she hasn’t done or said a single thing but I respect her and her bootleg Xena vibe

and like shoutout for putting at least one actual black guy in egypt I guess

so I guess the one in the middle is... psychic or something? not that “hey if you plunder this blatantly cursed tomb it might be bad” requires psychic powers to know but

I mean that giant black sarcophagus they found recently in real life turned out fine I’m sure this will be great go nuts dude

uh oh it’s the fang of sauron anubis

oh that doesn’t seem good, but it’s actually the better option since for a second there I thought there were pulling a “black guy dies first” in ancient goddamn egypt

wait we’re still doing exposition okay the narrator is back. hi narrator I missed you.

look  I know it’s campy and all but can we take a sec to unironically appreciate how wicked COOL this guy looks with his glowing eyes and crap. this movie is just so satisfying to look at, every single shot has been peak aesthetic

“SEND THE BIRD” and then it’s actually just a regular bird that was anticlimactic

HOLY GREENSCREEN BATMAN

holy FUCK WE’RE ONLY JUST NOW AT THE TITLE SEQUENCE WHAT

okay I guess now we’re going to ACTUALLY start the movie, third time’s a charm

and we’re off to a fantastic start my friends

and judging by the choices of the cameraman in this scene I can tell they’re trying desperately to distract me from the fact that the dialogue sounds like it was generated by a neural network that was fed several dozen mediocre fantasy novels.

it’s working.

I am being personally attacked. god.

oh no some people on horses are coming I assume from the background music that this is a bad thing

OH it’s bootleg Xena and her merry band of deeply mediocre extras okay

I understand the adorable small child’s father must die but must it be at the hands of the worst mediocre extra. seriously he’s been on screen for five seconds and I already hate him.

I guess the protagonist’s name is Matthias, other writers might have let us know that when he was introduced, but these guys know damn well that it literally does not matter what his name is. they could have had her ride up and be like “we’re looking for a man named Jebediah Switchboard McDougal” and anyone who’s voluntarily watching this movie in the first place would just be like “that’s fair”

yeah just in case you weren’t sold after the blacksmithing or the hunting scenes, let’s have him just singlehandedly take down half a dozen ninjas in less than a minute. just fuck me up

oh shit they shot him

oh shit they shot him again

they’re just boromir-ing the hell out of this dude

and yet he’s still going to town on those ninjas

NO NOT THE ADORABLE CHILD WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS

I’ve decided I don’t like bootleg Xena after all

it’s a good thing he’s got three arrows embedded in his torso because that is the worst cage ever. it’s made of like. bamboo and string. have you seen this man’s arms how did they expect that to effectively contain him.

whoa it’s... BOOTLEG XENA 2.0: GOOD GUY EDITION

or not. she didn’t free him or anything she just killed his original captors and then took off with the cage with him in it

no I think she is good she’s... healing him? by... getting scorpions to sting the hell out of him? has the FDA approved this.

I’m sorry I can’t take this scene seriously the background music is way too close to the “ooga chakas” from hooked on a feeling. also the sheer degree to which they’re pulling a reverse male gaze here is kinda overshooting sexy straight into unintentionally funny. I mean I know this is the entire reason I’m watching this insanity but like even I think this is excessive.

“the scorpion king escaped” that is giving him way too much credit he was stolen by the superior bootleg Xena.

and in case NONE of the previous things drew your attention away from the lack of a plot, here’s just straight up nudity because why not.

I thought I had a thing for zach mcgowan but I’ve got nothing on this cameraman.

also there’s some kind of “reluctant chosen one king” thing going on I guess but like they literally couldn’t have put less effort into it

I haven’t heard people this concerned about what the moon is doing since I left evergreen state college

aaand apparently he can see and speak to... ghosts now? ghosts that spit thousands of arrows from the sky? know what why not I’ll accept literally anything at this point.

oh they aren’t ghosts they’re just really sneaky dudes

it’s a shame jebediah switchboard’s one and only weakness is extremely shitty cages because he sure ends up in them a lot

hmmmm we’re getting some uncomfortable racist undertones and misogyny in one go okay. not worse than I would expect from a movie of this.... caliber, but I’m not thrilled, especially since this whole situation has yet to have a single actual point to it.

actually okay it’s veered quickly away from “rudyard kipling-esque Vague Native Tribe Encounter” and into... some kind of weird mad max thing mixed with a D&D campaign that’s gone wildly off the rails. but they’re on thin fucking ice.

I really appreciate that matthias is approaching this situation with exactly the same strategy with which I play skyrim, which is “sneak up on everybody one at a time even though there are a ton of them and that shouldn’t be possible, shoot them all with a bow you looted off one of them”

and now they’re just... suddenly free and back on their horses, then matthias had a vague fake deep exchange with the leader and they rode away. there literally was no reason for that entire interlude. nothing happened, there wasn’t character development or anything. this godforsaken movie could have been ten minutes shorter.

“the plot is down there, just past that greenscreen” is what I heard there.

I’m sorry I’m dying for some reason all I’m getting from this visual is “wait are you saying the panel is all the way on the other side of the convention center” like the costumes are just mediocre enough that in bright light they don’t look like they’re actually actors in a movie.

the moon’s rising. but I can’t for the life of me remember why that’s important. she’s got some kinda egyptian steampunk millennium rod though.

okay the lenses must align with the cipher. did anyone mention a cipher before who knows.

good job matthias you solved the moon puzzle and your prize is a metric ton of blue jello.

all right through the jello portal they go. to find the book of souls, probably.

in this case I actually do need more exposition. are we just not gonna explain ancient egyptian jello narnia. no. okay.

stop forcing zach mcgowan to be quippy I know all the cool movies are doing it but this is neither the time nor the place nor the actor for it.

oh my god they’re being attacked by a rock golem thing and I don’t think a screenshot can fully capture how bad the cgi is. not of the rock monster itself, but trying to integrate it with the real actors and set pieces was... oof.

okay a mostly naked woman has risen out of some nearby water and called off the rock golem with no explanation. why not.

neither of them looks into this so much as confused as hell

honestly, same.

oh god no they’re trying to make the rock golem be the comic relief this movie never needed. please don’t. you can barely handle writing the plot relevant dialogue now’s not the time to get fancy. I take it back, trying to make zach mcgowan be quippy was actually somehow not the worst option.

she IS the book of souls!

okay that’s a pretty cool visual I’ll give them that. digging the iridescent moon tattoo.

and that seems like a reasonable stopping point because I started this kind of late and have to get up for class in the morning. tune in tomorrow for, I assume, more of zach mcgowan running around in various states of undress while absolutely nothing coherent happens around him.