#i apologize i know this answer isn’t very satisfactory >.<< /div>
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i would looove love love to get a peak at your 5000 word document dissecting alhaitham <333 im so in love w him
waaah really anon!? i’m flattered to hear that! i’m always extremely hesitant to share stuff like that because one, it’s personal to me and analyzing characters like that is a special pastime/hobby for me—something i deeply enjoy doing and like keeping for myself, something private and cherished and just for me—and two, i know everyone has their own personal interpretations of characters of course (influenced by their own unique experiences, beliefs, opinions etc.) which can be very sacred to them (especially if the character is a comfort character) and they can sometimes get very upset or feel very strongly when someone has a different interpretation of the same character as them. all interpretations of a character are valid and there are no ‘right’ answers in art (one of the many beauties of it!)—everyone is allowed to and welcome to interpret a character however they’d like to and no one is more ‘right’ than anyone else; it’s fiction, it’s what you make of it!—however bullying and harassing someone simply due to the fact that their interpretation differs from yours is never okay.
#sorry i rambled a little here HAHA#but thank you!!!! you’re so sweet 🥺🥺#i’m so in love with him toooooo oh my god he is devouring my mind#i apologize i know this answer isn’t very satisfactory >.<#maybe one day i’ll share some of it!!#i hope you’re having a fabulous tuesday sweetpea#keep safe and drink water!!#inky.bb#clari gets mail
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Swap AU Part: 8
Adam had been rather fidgety and tense today, Michael noticed. The first man was usually more affectionate and tactile, always sticking close to him and dragging him around the garden to show him something new. And yet, today out of nowhere, Adam seemed to make sure to maintain some sort of distance between them, looking away as his mind seemed preoccupied with something. Like right now, Adam sat at least a metre apart from him as they have their daily shared lunches. The human was mindlessly nibbling on a slice of melon, his thoughts clearly far and away from where he was right now. The only relief that Michael had was that, at the very least, Adam didn’t seem to be avoiding him, though he was still acting weirdly towards him.
Having enough of being purposely ignored along with not being able to hide his concern any longer, Michael placed his own slice of melon down and confronted Adam. “What’s bothering you?”
“Huh?” Adam looked up from his slice of fruit and finally looked directly at Michael for the first time today.
“You’ve been rather distant today,” Michael clarified. “And you seem to be distracted by something. You know you can always tell me what’s bothering you.”
Adam fidgeted uneasily on his seat, his gaze back down on his barely eaten melon as he twiddled his fingers while he considered Michael’s suggestion. His brows furrowed and lips downturned, uncertainty painted upon his features as he weighed his options carefully in his mind.
“Oh, it’s nothing really…”
That…didn’t look good for Michael. “Have I done something to upset you?,” he asked. Michael knew that despite his efforts, he always seemed to put off others; apparently something to do with the atmosphere he exuded, whatever Lucifer meant. But now he was carefully considering his brother’s words, had he somehow been unkind to Adam? If so, it was something he wanted to quickly apologise for and rectify.
“What?” Adam quickly glanced back at the angel. “Oh nonono! That’s not..! It isn’t..!,” Adam paused to gather his thoughts. “You’re not at fault Michael,” he smiled softly albeit still anxiously.
He shouldn’t pry, Michael knew he really shouldn’t, but damn if he wasn’t curious now, still concerned, but definitely on the more curious side now. That, and Adam’s answer just wasn’t satisfactory enough to deter his curious wondering, especially when the first man didn’t seem to be wholly honest with his response.
“So how come you’ve been avoiding being direct with me today?,” he inquired.
Adam opened his mouth to try and refute, but before any words came out, Michael continued his questioning.
“You’ve been keeping a certain distance from me, you keep looking away from me, and you’ve been keeping our conversations short,” Michael listed the oddities he noticed today, counting them one by one with his fingers. Three pale fingers were held up accusingly towards Adam.
“I– uhm.” Adam’s throat suddenly felt very dry, having his actions listed like that made him feel caught out. “Are you really going to make me tell you?,” he asked with wide pleading eyes, lower lip bitten.
Well, now Michael just felt awful. Perhaps he had pushed too much. He sighed, “No, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I’m just worried I did something wrong.” Deep blue eyes held Adam’s golden ones, as Michael expressed his sincere apology. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”
And that just sent Adam’s heart aflutter even more as the warmth in his soul spread aglow throughout his being, spreading such giddy happiness all over. He just couldn’t help it; the more he spent time with the angel, the more deeply fell into this whirlpool of pink flowers and light fluttering wings of blue butterflies. It felt inescapable, and honestly, he didn’t want to leave at all as he enjoyed the sweet scents and the soft brush of it against his bare skin while he stood at its epicentre. It was like being in a completely new world, separate from Heaven and Eden, and more beautiful than both combined. It was his paradise within paradise.
Slowly, he moved closer to the angel, sitting at a distance he normally used to be in. It was odd, for him to act so boldly now that he was keenly aware of what his heart contained. Adam glanced down at the angel beside him, long lashes shading his golden eyes that held an uncharacteristic seriousness behind them. “I’ll offer you the same deal like last time,” he proposed, his voice almost a whisper. “I’ll tell you, only if you keep it a secret.”
Suddenly, it was Michael himself who felt like he needed more space between him and Adam. Such closeness and the way Adam currently looked under the sun’s bright glow, it was like the man himself was made of the purest of gold; more divine than anything in Heaven, and yet completely whole with the earth. It was as if the gold had seeped into his very being, the liquid quickly solidifying within him, leaving him stiff and unable to move a single muscle within such a pure presence. Somehow, perhaps through divine help, his voice finally managed to find its way out of his lips. “I promise.”
The air was still around them, the playful banter between the ripples of the lake quieted down, the garden’s residents moved more gently and softly all to listen in on the words about to be said aloud by the first man. Adam took a deep breath, his nerves set alight, heart pounded against his chest demanding to be freed. And so, he did. “Michael, I… You’re the reason that I look forward to seeing the sun rise high up in the sky everyday.”
Adam paused, trying to maintain his composure; though his eyes wanted to look away and his body to run far away, he kept his gaze at the angel who had his heart and anchored his body to remain beside him. “You were by my side when I needed it most, and even now you still remain.” He gently held Michael’s hands between his and confessed, “I would like to be the one to remain by your side, Michael.”
The confessed words lingered in the air in anticipation of what was to come next. Michael felt himself drawn into such beautiful eyes, that held such vulnerability and anxiety, but most of all love. His gaze moved down to the first man’s lips, and unconsciously, Michael leaned up towards Adam, slowly closing the gap between them.
“Michael–,” Adam gasped.
But before the distance between was closed, Michael stopped his advance, suddenly becoming very aware of the situation they were in. Out in the open in broad daylight, he was about to…to… He pulled away from Adam and turned away, untangling their hands in the process. Shame and alarm washed over him like a wave of freezing water as the reality of what he had almost done sank into him.
“Michael?,” asked Adam as he tried to look over the angel, confused at the sudden change in his behaviour.
Michael kept his back turned to Adam, unable to face the human. “I’m sorry Adam.”
Three words, and Adam felt his heart shatter into a million jagged shards. What had happened? One moment Michael seemed to reciprocate his feelings, and then pushed him away in the next. Had he read things wrong?
“I don’t understand. You were about to–”
“Make a mistake,” Michael cut in.
Adam could feel tears well up in his eyes and his lips quiver despite his efforts not to cry. “So I would’ve just been a mistake to you…”
Upon hearing this, Michael quickly turned around to face a sniffling Adam. “What? No! That’s not what I meant,” he grasped Adam’s face between his hands, forcing the human to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not a mistake Adam, you won’t ever be.”
“Then why?”
“Because you are the first man, and I’m an archangel. It just cannot be, you know that,” answered Michael.
Adam removed Michael’s hands away from his face, but kept his gaze held. “But how do you feel?”
“I…care for you, Adam,” he replied, breaking his gaze away from the first man as he looked down at their intertwined hands.
“But not enough to follow through with it.” Adam tried to pull his hands away, but Michael held them firm between his.
“It doesn’t matter how much I care for you. It’s not allowed. The consequences could be dire, especially for you.” He looked back up at Adam, his eyes begging the first man to please understand what he was trying to convey. “Please understand, Adam. I can’t risk you.”
With a resigned sigh, Adam slowly nodded, “I understand. It couldn’t be helped, I suppose.” He pulled his hands away from Michael, this time the angel letting it go, and placed them over his broken heart. He needed some distance between the two of them, and not in the same way he had felt just mere minutes earlier. Space. He needed space between them.
“You should go,” he suggested. “It’s getting late.”
The sun was still at its highest point in the sky, and the lunch they had prepared together barely eaten, there was still plenty of time before Michael had to go back to Heaven. But when he attempted to reach out towards Adam and the man pulled further away from him, he knew that it was getting late.
“I…guess it is getting late…,” he hesitantly agreed. Michael stood up, patting his robes off of any dirt before unfurling his three pairs of white-blue wings. He glanced one last time at Adam, “I’ll be off then.” And then flew back to Heaven, leaving only dust behind from where he last stood.
Adam watched the now empty spot beside, and before he knew it, tears finally flowed down his cheeks. He understood where Michael was coming from, which was precisely why he felt so stupid right now. What exactly was he thinking? How could it have possibly ended any other way? He knew Michael, and how steadfast and loyal the angel was towards Heaven. He was lucky that Michael was even doing him such favours in the first place. He knew that, and yet he still… It seemed like Lilith got it all wrong.
Adam remained seated on the rock by the lake, tucking his legs close to his chest as the midday sun’s warmth seemed to have stopped reaching him. He broke the slices of melon into smaller chunks, tossing them into the lake as fishes from big to small rushed to gather where the fruit sank. Some smaller fish stayed further behind as fish that looked similar to them swam back to them with a chunk of fruit in their mouth. Waterfowls of different kinds also gathered by the lake, hoping to get some fruit as well. Many came in pairs, flying and swimming together, feeding and grooming one another. Meanwhile, Adam sat by his lonesome on the rock as he watched the animals care for one another.
The drakes had their hens, the bucks with their does, the boars and their sows. Even the dragonflies by the reeds danced in pairs as they playfully chased one another, their iridescent wings shimmering under the morning’s light. It wasn’t fair. Adam hugged his legs even closer to himself as he buried his face in his arms, hiding the enviable sight away from his eyes. He tried to stop the tears from flowing out by pressing his eyes against his arms, but it seemed like a fruitless task as the pain that was seeded in his chest just kept growing and growing until they blossomed as tears that trickled down his cheeks. His mind understood Michael’s reason; logically, it made absolute sense, but his heart just couldn’t seem to cooperate and accept the fact.
Even Lilith, his supposed equal, had a partner, even if that someone was Lucifer. Every resident of the garden seemed to have someone who remained by their side, pairs who were meant to be together for eternity. And yet, here he was, made to have an equal and companion in mind, without someone to call his.
Part 7
Part 9
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel adam#guitarhero#michael x adam#hazbin hotel michael#swap au#hazbin adam#🛡🎸
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I don't know Tumblr very well but one way or another I ended up seeing your dark Maedhros AU and I want to know what will happen? the development of the story in general, how did the twins get along with Maedhros? What did Maedhros do after the outbursts from him? The conflict of the twins? Saurom's manipulation, truths in the light and Gil Galad survived?. I was quite integrated. Greetings from Latin America
Hi there! Greetings from Canada!! <333 How the twins get along with Maedros: before the time travel, they see him as a father figure and love him very much, while Maedros is very protective of them. For extra angst, there was an argument between them about sending the twins off to Gil-Galad, and it ended on a sour note. Maedros going hunting with them afterward was his way of apologizing (and he was planning to offer a worded apology, but the twins were sent forward in time before he could do so T_T).
After the time travel, the twins are upset to see how far Maedros has fallen. They still love him, but they also know that he isn’t their Maedros, so to speak. They have to be very careful around him and adapt quickly to his new moods/behaviours. They pretend to be docile at times so that he won’t get suspicious about any escape attempts -- and that also goes for his commanders and servants as well, since the twins don't quite know who their allies/enemies are in Maedros' court.
As for Maedros, I think he’d try to make up for his outbursts with physical affection. He’d force himself into the twins’ private space to do so, but if they try to push him away, he’d only get more upset. So that’s something the twins have to play along with as well (and even use it to their advantage if necessary).
Gil-Galad doesn’t survive in the AU; Maedros kills him! Also, I’m not sure what you mean by “conflict of the twins”? And I don’t have enough of an answer for your other questions; maybe if they were more specific, I might have some ideas? ^^;; Very sorry about that, anon!! But thank you so much for your ask; I hope my answers are satisfactory, and I’m happy to hear that you're interested in my AU! <333
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hi i apologize if this comes off badly but
how does one build a platform the way the goddess has? people seem to enjoy interacting with you and it appears to come very easily ( i understand it may not be however ). how does one get to that point, being new to the community. i understand completely if you arent comfortable answering
hmmm … the goddess gets questions like these a lot, but ki isn’t ever entirely sure how to answer them — typically, ki leaves it at a ‘ just be yourself ! ’ though that isn’t very satisfactory …
what the universal darling believes others like about cher is that che is honest with both cherishself && cher followers? all cher info is right there … easy to attach oneself to somebeing they don’t know ; it feels personal, che supposes
though that’s not the reason why the little nun has cher info out, rather che has it in the case somebeing is copying cherish, it’s really easy to tell … ( paranoia is really bad )
the earth also insists ki loves all ; which is true. nothing is more true than statement. even if ki is not fond of something or somebeing, this does not mean che does not love them … simply, loves comes first && annoyance second …
apologies if this was was not a suitable answer, che ended up rambling …
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AN AMERICAN IN PARIS SENTENCE STARTERS : PART I.
taken from the 1951 film inspired by the 1928 george gershwin composition. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.
“and i’ll tell you why.”
“all my life that’s all i ever wanted to do.”
“just look at it.”
“that’s where i’m billeted.”
“here’s my street.”
“a nicer bunch you’ll never meet.”
“it sounds better in french.”
“i have a lot of good friends in ___. a lot of very good friends.”
“that’s a pretentious way of saying i’m unemployed at the moment.”
“i’m here on a scholarship.”
“and you know something?”
“i’m getting pretty homesick.”
“i had to stop because i discovered i liked it.”
“it’s not a pretty face, i grant you.”
“i like ___. it’s a place where you don’t run into old friends.”
“do you remember him/her/them?”
“i wish he/she/they/you were still with me.”
“you see?”
“everybody recognizes me.”
“i guess i haven’t changed so much after all.”
“they’ve known me a long time.”
“well, what’s the difference?”
“let’s just say... i am old enough to know what to do with my young feelings.”
“shall i come up?” / “no, i’ll be right down.”
“don’t kiss me, you’ll spoil my makeup.”
“you look great, ___.”
“what’re you doing?”
“i phoned you, but there was no answer.” / “i would’ve phoned again, but i was afraid you might be in.”
“what are you working on?”
“incidentally, who’s ___?”
“that’s the second time that name has come up.”
“she/he/they was a little girl/boy/kid then.”
“we only became in love after she/he/they left.”
“she’s/he’s/they’re a little young for you, isn’t she/he/they?”
“what’s she/he/they like?”
“she/he/they/you/i could dance all night.”
“sounds tiresome.”
“kind of a wild kid, huh?”
“whatever gave you that idea?”
“i prefer not to discuss the matter any further.”
“be serious.”
“don’t be silly!”
“look, let’s start all over again, shall we?”
“how are you today, ___?” / “i could be better, ___.”
“i’m broke.”
“that should be very simple.”
“how do you do?”
“i know you.”
“i’ve heard you/her/him/them sing a thousand times. you’re/she’s/he’s/they’re wonderful!”
“i need lunch money.”
“please, allow me.”
“no thanks.”
“i wouldn’t lend him/her/them money if i were you.”
“what else is there?”
“relax, sister/brother/kiddo.”
“why don’t you be a good little girl/boy/kid and move on?”
“you won’t buy anything.”
“you’re just blocking out the sunshine.”
“i just wanted to discuss your work.”
“i’m not interested in your opinion.”
“if you say something nice i won’t feel better and if you don’t it’ll bother me.”
“do you mind if i look?”
“go ahead. you’re okay.”
“they’re harmless enough.”
“say, do you have a ___?”
“don’t you like criticism?” / “who does?”
“your guess is right on the nose.”
“you know... i like these two.”
“how much are they?”
“gee, i don’t know.” / “you don’t know?”
“offer me something.”
“will that be satisfactory?”
“you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“what do you care?”
“is it far?”
“here’s a good place.”
“i never thought of that.”
“i didn’t mean to stay long.” / “don’t apologize. i wanted you to.”
“i wish we had more time to talk.”
“by the way... what are you going to do tonight?”
“do you have a date?”
“nothing formal.”
“i got my girl/boy/babe/love, who could ask for anything more?”
“good evening. i’m sorry i’m late.”
“i see. it’s kind of a little joke, isn’t it?”
“i know i need dough, but i don’t need it this badly.”
“what’s so funny?”
“stop defending your honor so assiduously and listen to me for a minute.”
“i’m interested in your work and want to know you better. is that such a crime?”
“well, it certainly is a roundabout way to do it.”
“i want to help you.”
“it doesn’t hurt to have somebody rooting for you, does it?” / “it’ll be the first time anybody ever did.”
“you should get married again. you need it.”
“everybody must have someone to come home to.”
“let’s dance. we haven’t for years.”
“you’re going to have trouble with that one.”
“___! what a pleasant surprise!”
“let’s go around the floor for old time’s sake.”
“do you mind?”
“you’re certainly not without your nerve!”
“don’t get angry. this was perfectly harmless.”
“i haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since i walked in.”
“that was very considerate.”
“this is the first time i’ve ever done something like this.”
“i just had to meet you.”
“i don’t know what kind of girl/guy/person you think i am, but i’m not!”
“it was swell seeing you again!”
“that was fun, wasn’t it?”
#rp meme#roleplay meme#sentence starters#dialogue prompts#dialog prompts#ask meme#writing prompts#roleplay prompts#ask prompts#rp prompts#roleplay prompt#humor#fluff#romance#an american in paris#long post tw#long post
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ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 36
Sorry about the delay. But now its here and its ready for consumption.
Also, Shout to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.
Check her writing out on AO3 as ShamelesslyRomantic,
(Master post)
(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)
_____________________________________________________________
“Finished,” the artist akuma stated as he addressed his master.
Masquerade got up from her throne to look at the room. The classroom had been transformed into a rather spacious throne room. The artist had erased and redrawn walls to ensure the room was much larger. This new space also had several large windows adorned with elegant black and white curtains hanging from the top. Reflekta servants decked out in masquerade themed armor stood at attention on each step leading to her throne. Beautiful artwork of her decorated the walls, including an imposing portrait of her behind her throne that made it look as if she was looking down at everyone looking up at it. To her that came off as self-interested yet tasteful. The masked akuma even loved the addition of a red carpet that led up to her throne.
“This is quite satisfactory, Evillustrator. Just be sure to reinforce the walls of the room then head to the roof and locate Simularé. I want this place to be a fortress,” Masquerade ordered
“Understood,” the akuma nodded, his expression unreadable from the white face mask. He quickly headed to the door out of the room and Stone heart was guarding the door with his large frame and had to let the artist out.
“Gamer! Robostus! Status report!”
“We have made it so we could hack into every screen in Paris that is connected to the internet, as per your request,” the Gamer responded in monotone.
Masquerade smiled at that.
“Excellent. Do we have the cameras ready?”
The Reflekta copies near the robot akuma were being outfitted with recording gear.
“Affirmative, we will be ready to go live at your request.”
The masked akuma smiled at that news, she turned her attention to Princess Fragrance and the original Reflekta, who had just finished turning the last of the captured individuals into obedient copies of her.
“Has everyone in the school been rounded up and handled?”
“Dark Cupid and Reverser are doing a final sweep of any runaway stragglers. Stormy weather is going around flooding and freezing any empty hallways to flush out any that are hiding. There are Reflekta copies guarding the blocked off exits should anyone try and escape. But over 96% of the student body has been accounted for and 99% of all Faculty.” Princess Fragrance answered.
‘The missing ones are likely Marinette and Adrien. Those two never did make anything easy for me, did they? But it didn’t matter, their luck would run out soon enough. Once Ladybug and Chat noir were handled, then I could focus on making them pay,’ Masquerade grinned to herself.
She could picture how it would be, finding them and seeing their desperate faces as they realized that no hero would be able to save them. The first thing she would do was show them both her little empire. They thought she was bad when she had the school wrapped around her finger, they will be mortified when they see Paris. She would have all their friends and family captured, their best friends leading the cruel treatment of the rest. This would have them in tears and begging for mercy.
She did once consider letting Adrien be her boyfriend, with some perfume to sway him. He would have been a perfect boytoy to taunt Marinette with, but Masquerade realized how far above him she was now. She didn’t need him anymore, and truthfully, he was just as bad as Marinette, if not worse. Marinette had the audacity to dislike her and challenge her, but Adrien, he was so condescending, acting like she should be better than her actions. She could swear she saw pity in his eyes, and that was so much worse.
Though she wasn’t completely heartless, if they begged to be her personal servants and apologized for standing against her, then maybe she would let them have some mercy. Having Marinette clean up after her and make those admittedly delicious baked goods would be nice and having Adrien wait on her hand and foot like a personal butler would be quite fun. Maybe they would think if they did a good enough job their families would suffer less.
She did want to daydream about that idea more but she knew that she needed to focus on the present.
“Alright, Let’s start moving to stage 2. Gamer! I want a comprehensive list of every akuma victim outside of the school. Robostus! Make sure the cameras and broadcast are ready when I tell you. I want everything to go off without a hitch.”
“Affirmative!” Gamer and Robostus responded in equal robotic unison.
“Reflekta! Princess Fragrance! After all of the copies pick up the stragglers, I want you scanning the area for Ladybug and Chat noir. Bubbler and Lady Wifi… wait. I think I remember something.”
She paused to check her charm, she noticed the question mark charm and touched it, allowing her to focus and see what akuma it was.
“Cancel that order, remain on standby unless we get approached.”
“Yes… so this is what that voice meant by merging. How very interesting. I think I will let that new akuma keep its directive. Ladybug and Chat noir will have no chance of beating...”
An akuma merged with Lady Wifi, Bubbler and Oblivio. Combined to make something new. Something that she knew even the heroes would have trouble fighting.
“Deadzone.” Masquerade said with a devilish grin.
______________________________________________________________________________
Ladybug and Chat Noir made their way down the hall. They easily dealt with a few Reflekta clones without much effort and continued moving.
They were expecting to see more akuma lurking about, but strangely, the halls they were walking down were all either empty or only covered by Reflekta duplicates.
“Masquerade likely has her stronger forces consolidating after bringing in as many people to her as they could. Those that didn’t hit the mark likely got turned into the copies we bumped into.” Ladybug answered.
“That does explain why they were singing, like when Princess Fragrance made servants,” the cat hero added.
“This might be our only time to catch a break before confronting her.”
“So, since we have time, do you mind if I ask if you're free to go on Patrol tonight?” the cat hero casually inquired.
Ladybug stopped.
“Tonight? That is quite sudden. Plus, we still don’t know how this will play out.” Ladybug gestured to the school.
“Well I am going to assume we stop the akuma and save the day like always.” Chat noir commented. “Call it a safe bet, but we usually win.”
“Always the positive outlook, Chaton. I’m glad you have so much faith in us despite our numbers disadvantage.”
“You said it yourself, most of the servants are pushovers or just puppets. The only real threat is Lila. And we have faced worse."
“True, but not anything this sinister,” Ladybug tacked on.
“Didn’t we fight Hawkmoth a couple of months back?” Chat noir asked with a twinge of confusion. Was Ladybug implying what he thought she was?
Ladybug held her tongue.
“You’re kidding right? You think Lila is eviler than Hawkmoth!” Chat Noir exclaimed in shock.
“No no no! Not eviler … just a bit cleverer than him,” Ladybug confessed.
Chat noir looked at his partner skeptically, but then considered her words.
“She is manipulative. Considering even without being akumatized she has done some rather twisted stuff. But thinking she is evil is a bit much. Especially when there is someone responsible for forcing emotionally vulnerable people to do his bidding,” Chat noir pointed out.
“Isn’t that what she is doing right now?”
“Yes, but she was akumatized. If we started blaming people for their actions as akuma we would have to throw innocent people in jail.”
“Right… but you read that article on the Ladyblog right? She could be more than just a victim of Hawkmoth, she could be an ally.”
The Cat hero thought about it more but was still not entirely convinced.
“I guess underestimating her would be dumb, but maybe she isn’t completely evil. I mean Chloé ended up showing a bit of humanity and did some good, maybe Lila is capable of it too.”
The crimson clad heroine smiled a bit.
“That’s what I like about you, Chat, you always focus on the good in others.”
The black clad hero gave a Cheshire grin.
“When it comes to the team, you’re the brains, and I’m the sidekick who brings the smiles and the heartfelt speeches.”
“You aren’t my sidekick, Chat Noir, we are partners. And you could be the brains too, if you would use yours outside of pun making.” Ladybug playfully bonked his noggin.
The cat chuckled at the playful teasing.
“Fair enough, but I can’t help it if I FELINE making a quip.”
Ladybug could feel herself groan at the lame joke.
“I take it back… you are the sidekick,” Ladybug deadpanned, her tone of mock annoyance causing the cat to chuckle.
“Alright I’ll…” He stopped speaking as he noticed something was amiss.
Chat Noir’s left ear twitched. He heard approaching footsteps.
“We better get moving, this abandoned hallway isn’t going to be so abandoned in a minute.”
“More Reflekta clones?”
Chat Noir extended the staff to the ground, his face showing a sudden sternness.
“No… Winter is coming.”
______________________________________________________________________________
Viperion peered through the door of the locker room.
“Clear.”
The snake and dragon heroes entered with their akuma prisoner.
“Pick a locker and let’s toss her in,” Ryuuko commented as she held the squirming akuma.
The two paused their movement when they heard a rustling in the lockers.
“Do you hear that?” Viperion questioned.
“How could I not?” Ryuuko replied.
Just as the two stared at the rustling lockers. The two shaking lockers doors flew off their hinges.
And stepped out an akuma that neither hero recognized.
“I don’t remember seeing that akuma before,” Ryuuko stated.
“Neither do I, but it seems vaguely familiar,” Viperion responded.
As the Akuma was gathering its bearings, the heroes tried to gauge its powers. It had broad shoulders that had spherical, dark purple balls around them, which were connected to tight black sleeves with 3 white circular stripes at the end that ended at his wrists. Its left hand had a fingerless black glove which showed its skin akin to a purple silhouette. The other hand was what appeared to be a black laser canon with a phone attached to it. On its back was a large red, purple and black pipe which seemed to act as a holster to a blue bubble wand. Its face was obscured by a large white theater mask much like all the other akuma. But there was the impression that it had distinct features. Its chest had a rounded purple bubble on the top half of its body akin to round armor and it had a logo that appeared to be a WiFi signal within an eye in a cage. The lower half appeared more akin to a skintight jumpsuit that was black with white stripes at the feet.
The akuma turned its attention to the two heroes.
“So umm… what are you doing in the locker room?”
“Merge complete, Deadzone is active. Mission objective, Capture Ladybug and Chat Noir,” The akuma answered in a robotic tone less as a response to the question and more as a statement, their voice sounded like the mix of two people.
“Well, Deadzone, we can’t let you do that!” Ryuuko exclaimed as she glared at the akuma.
The akuma pointed its blaster at her.
“Your opinion on that really doesn’t have an impact on us.”
Deadzone’s left hand touched the phone on their blaster, and a purple bubble with a pause insignia shot out. Ryuuko and Viperion both jumped back as the bubble had direct contact with their akuma prisoner, causing her to be motionless as the bubble turned green and floated to the roof of the room.
“Okay, so don’t touch the bubbles,” Viperion noted.
“Positive side, we don’t need to worry about that one akuma,” Ryuuko commented.
Viperion and Ryuuko knew this akuma would be trouble if it got to Ladybug and Chat noir. They were going to need to find a way to stop it.
______________________________________________________________________
Fu had been observing the spoiled Mayor’s daughter after her confrontation with the Reflekta replicas. Using it as a means to help him find Ladybug and Chat Noir. He was aware that this girl had a knack for getting into trouble and making akuma target her, so it would not be too far off to assume she would be useful in locating his chosen. He would have called her, but communication was down, so he would need to adapt. But now he had a rather interesting quandary.
“Should I lend her the miraculous or not?” Fu spoke quietly as he pondered.
It was a tougher question he had initially thought. If he was asked if she was worthy of being a miraculous user, the answer would undoubtedly be negative. She was clearly a spoiled brat who saw herself above others. But after the events when the bee miraculous temporarily fell into her hands, he had started observing her. He did this with all of the chosen ones that Marinette had picked. Not because he didn’t trust his student, but more out of curiosity of why Marinette picked these individuals.
With the one she picked for the fox miraculous, Fu could see that the girl valued justice, but was cunning and saw the importance of distinguishing truth from illusion, an ideal pick for the fox miraculous. As for the Turtle miraculous wielder, Wayzz spoke highly of Nino, which really made him curious about the young lad. That boy showed a willingness to protect those close to him even if it meant getting hurt, and the calm to be ready to wait and roll with things. The miraculous of protection required someone that can keep a cool head and be ready to defend at the drop of a hat.
The other temporary heroes matched pretty well with the traits of the Kwami and were all good people deep down. Fu had no doubts that Marinette had the instincts of a guardian. The only one that brought doubt was Chloé. After the incident where she found the miraculous and got akumatized, Chloé was trusted with the bee miraculous 3 times. And her record had been mixed but overall she was decent when she fell in line and worked with Ladybug and Chat Noir.
Marinette mentioned that she didn’t want to trust Chloé with the miraculous after the last time. But has admitted to Fu that if needed she was a decent Bee heroine.
But if he was wrong and she decided to use this chance to stay being a miraculous wielder, he would have to deal with her as a rogue. Though, considering the circumstances, that would honestly not be the worst situation, as her identity was public and Ladybug and Chat Noir would deal with her like before.
“Wayzz, what do you think?”
His kwami companion popped out of his shirt pocket.
“This is quite a dilemma, Master. The situation is dire, but putting the miraculous in the wrong hands would also make things worse. Perhaps Pollen would be able to give better insight.”
“Very true, my friend.” Fu patted the kwami.
Fu cautiously went into the cleaning cart and pulled out the Bee Miraculous. The bee kwami popped out.
“Good morning, Master,” Pollen greeted the guardian with respect.
“Good afternoon, Pollen. We have a situation and I would like to know your opinion.”
“Very well, I am happy to serve,” The bee kwami replied.
“What do you think of Chloé Bourgeois? The one that used your miraculous recently.”
The kwami put her little hand to her face as she compiled her thoughts.
“She is complicated, Master. She didn’t talk to me much but I kind of got to feel a lot about who she was as a person. She is brash, she is confident, yet she is insecure. She is blunt, stubborn, and set in her ways. But I can tell that she is at a crossroads in her life. There is some small part of her that wants to be good and do good for others outside of herself, but her upbringing has made such a mindset seem like weakness, and she is scared of letting herself be vulnerable. Ladybug has been a good influence on her, but she is still immature in several aspects. She has the potential to be a good queen. If she could break through that self-imposed selfish mentality, she could be something extraordinary,” Pollen explained, finally.
“I see, well that is quite informative. Thank you,” Fu responded, nodding thoughtfully.
He put the Bee Miraculous back in a tiny box, causing her to go dormant.
“So, she is at a crossroad.” Fu repeated as he stroked his chin
He turned his attention back to Chloé, who had continued walking towards another dead end. When he caught the eye of approaching Reflekta clones. And with that, Fu figured out a way to know.
“I think I just found a way to know the correct answer.”
______________________________________________________________________
“I swear this place is a maze.” Mayura grumbled to herself as she walked the halls.
She noticed her fan shake, notifying her of someone calling. It was Hawkmoth
“Yes?”
“Mayura what are you doing?! You were supposed to find the target and get out!” Hawkmoth exclaimed angrily. “And why did you transform? You knowutilizing the Peacock Miraculous is dangerous.”
Though she wouldn’t admit it, she was somewhat touched by the concern in his voice. Unfortunately, she did not have time to dwell on that so she was going to ignore it, as she had a task at hand
“Some unforeseen circumstances have caused some rather unfortunate delays. I am going to locate the sentimonster and gather information regarding the target. Afterwards, I will assist in getting Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous.” Mayura responded.
As she was speaking, an akuma with black wings flew into view along with an akuma riding a paper airplane.
“Seems the akuma servants have located me.”
She notices the akuma began preparing to attack her. They were practically mindless puppets that saw anyone who wasn’t their master as an enemy. This was quite an oversight, but it fit with the motif of the akuma villain. She felt the emotions of that girl, she knew exactly the type of insecurities Lila held. Thankfully for her, it meant they could easily be exploited.
“Get out of there this instant it is too dangerous. You are in no shape to…”
The akumas aimed at the unidentified villainess and fired off paper airplanes and arrows.
“We will discuss this later.” Mayura hung up before turning her attention to the two servants of Masquerade.
Mayura dashed through the hall, expertly avoiding projectiles and blocking with her fan those she couldn’t dodge. She jumped onto Reverser’s glider, grabbed the akuma and threw him at the flying Dark Cupid, leaving the two dazed and tangled together.
“I’m weakened, not helpless,” Mayura commented as she dusted herself off and hopped off the floating paper airplane.
She noticed that the two akuma that attacked her were slow in getting up.
‘Seems the akuma created by Masquerade aren’t just mindless, they are also rather slow in reacting. Ladybug and Chat Noir can exploit that. I suppose with the number of servants she made, this was to be expected. I should locate Simularé and get some details on our akuma’s little plan. I should step in and seize control if she gets too distracted like the last one. Gabriel has always been far too cautious when it comes to his plans, it’s time we were more active.’ Mayura mentally concluded.
She closed her eyes and focused on locating the sentimonster.
“She is on the roof. Odd placement for her most powerful ally, but I suppose there must be some sort of logical reason for what she is planning,” Mayura rationalized.
The peacock themed villainess noticed that the akuma that attacked her were starting to move again, and she decided to pick up her pace a bit.
______________________________________________________________________________
“This is super ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” she exclaimed with anger. “Not a single exit in this place! Why is every exit coated in icky slime?”
She checked her phone.
“And still no signal.”
She ended up chucking her phone out of frustration.
“I wish Ladybug would just get here and beat the akuma, or better yet, come here and give me the bee miraculous so I can help kick butt,” she grumbled as she went to go see where she threw her phone. She'd remembered she actually liked the case she just bought for it and losing that would be a waste.
“H-help me please!” The wails of a person in danger caught Chloé’s attention.
“That sounds like a non-me issue,” the blonde told herself. As she continued walking to her phone.
“If only there was someone here to save me!” the voice called out again.
Chloé stopped moving for a moment.
“Well I am not a hero without the Bee, so I guess he better hope Ladybug and Chat Noir are nearby, or maybe those other two costumed nobodies that I saw earlier,” she said, clearly trying to convince herself not to do anything.
“Please! Ladybug! Chat Noir…. “
"The heroes will handle it." Chloé reasoned with herself as she picked up her phone. Now getting ready to go somewhere else and likely away from the screaming.
“ And a…Queen Bee.”
Chloé’s eyes went wide. Did someone call out for… Queen Bee?!
Chloé started dashing down the halls to the sound of the voice.
“Did someone call for a hero!” Chloé called out, looking confident.
She arrived to see an old man in an ugly Hawaiian shirt being cornered by 3 Reflekta copies. The akuma copies turn to Chloé.
“Surrender,” they sing-songed as they began to approach.
Chloé ran right at them, and proceeded to push them into each other, and let the impractical heels make it hard for them to get back up.
She rushed to the old man.
“Don’t worry, old man with good taste in heroes and nothing else. I, Queen Bee, am here to save you,” Chloé blustered.
“Thank you.” Fu said with a forced smile. She clearly only came when he mentioned her name. But she did show up. In hindsight, maybe his test was not as conclusive as he thought. But then again, he actually planned those out more.
Chloé looked around.
“Alright old man, normally I would have just left you to get saved by Ladybug, but you have good taste in heroes, so I am going to help you out. We need to move before those creepy akumas get back up. So follow me, I know a place you can hide out.” Her tone tried to come off as abrasive, but it did show an inkling of care.
Chloé began moving away from the cluster of Reflektas. The old man shrugged and followed behind. He supposed that this would be another good test for her. Maybe he will get a more definitive answer by keeping an eye on her. And if worse comes to worse, he had a feeling she would make a good distraction should he need to escape a band of akuma.
______________________________________________________________________
“Did you just make a...”
Ladybug was able to pick up on the sound of harsh wind heading their way and decided her scolding of lame references could wait for later. She grabbed her partner's arm and pulled him into the nearby science lab.
She quickly closed the door just as a cold front blasted right past them. The window on the door was covered in ice.
“Stormy Weather?”
“Stormy Weather.”
The two both look at each other with a bit of worry. The storm akuma was one of their more powerful foes, and with complete control of the weather in such a tight space, things were going to get tough.
“Any ideas?”
Ladybug weighed her options. Would now be the time to use her lucky charm? or should she save it for when they are in front of Masquerade? It was starting to get harder to make that call.
“We can’t have her roaming the halls, we will need to incapacitate her. So I say have your ice power up ready, and be ready to swap power ups at the drop of a hat. Stormy Weather may be tough, but we still have tricks up our sleeve.”
Chat Noir nodded.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Ladybug and Chat Noir both popped their Ice blue power ups and shift into their Ice forms. The two watched as the other’s suit gained ice skates, ice crystal and snowflake accents, becoming Ladyice and Icecat.
(AN: Yes, according to the Wiki, that’s what they are calling them. Personally, I would have called them Ladyfrost and Cold noir/ Cool Cat but that’s just me. This isn’t relevant to the story, I just wanted you all to know that.)
“You know, Ladybug, you really give off the ice skater vibe. Would you say you have experience ice skating outside of this form?” Chat Noir asked.
Ladybug felt her mind flash to her date with Adrien and her cheeks turned red.
“I- I may have some experience. And how about you, Kitty?” she deflected.
“Well, now that you mention it, I…”
They heard a loud bang on the door, cracking the ice that covered the window to reveal the white theater mask that Stormy Weather had covering her face.
“I’m gonna give it to her, she really knows how to break the Ice,” Chat Noir joked.
“Chaton, cool it with all of the ice puns,” she stated.
“Wait, was that a pun? My Lady I... OH SHI…”
A large ice stalactite burst through the door interrupting their banter and almost skewering them.
Chat Noir was about to say something when Ladybug cut in.
“Chat Noir, you are my partner and I respect you greatly. But so help me, if you say we should put this conversation on ‘Freeze’, I will not save you if you get impaled.” Ladybug stated.
Chat Noir paused.
“You know me so well,” he said with a smile.
The two watched as Stormy Weather entered the room through the stalactite hole.
______________________________________________________________________
“Hey Viperion?”
“Yea Ryuuko?”
“We both agree that we need to stop that crazy akuma right?”
“That is correct.”
“Then why are you carrying me away from it!?” Ryuuko exclaimed.
Viperion had picked up the dragon heroine fireman style in order to pull her away from the pursuing akuma.
“Do you want the reasons in alphabetical order?” the snake hero sassed.
“We can take it,” Ryuuko asserted. “We can’t retreat! There is no honor in it!”
“Well considering neither of our weapons can touch them, the concept of honor has flown out the window. Not to mention, I seriously doubt that we can take them on without a plan, and don’t say ‘try to hit them harder’ is a plan. It isn’t.”
Viperion had a smug look as he noticed Ryuuko look away.
“You’re right, but I'm mad about it,” the dragon heroine huffed.
“I can live with that.”
Viperion took a sharp left and noticed a dozen Reflekta duplicates.
“Juleka?”
“Come with us,” the clones sang.
“I’m going to assume they aren’t her,” Ryuuko said as she got off Viperion’s shoulders.
She punched his arm.
“Ow.”
“Your shoulder was bumpy.”
Ryuuko drew her weapon and dashed past the group of Reflekta clones. After a second, she holstered her weapon and all of the clones dropped to the floor groaning.
“Wow.” Viperion was impressed. He had to admit that it was super cool.
“Don’t worry, I used the flat end of the sword. They will be fine, and hopefully they will slow down the akuma.”
The two continued running, but glanced back as Deadzone arrived. He looked at the clones getting up and blasted each one into a green bubble in which they remained motionless and floated to the ceiling of the hall.
“It can’t distinguish between friend or foe,” Viperion commented.
“What?”
Viperion turned to his comrade.
“I think I just got an idea.”
__________________________________________________________________________
“This way,” the bossy blond teen motioned.
Fu pushed his janitor cart as they moved in the hallway.
“Do you really need to move that hideous thing with us?” Chloé questioned with clear aggravation.
“It's very important,” Fu responded.
“Ugh, whatever. Just move faster, then.”
Fu nodded and picked up the pace.
The mayor’s daughter led them down the hall and they had managed to avoid attracting attention.
“Okay, we are here.”
Fu looked at the door and realized that it was the nurse’s office.
“Hopefully the nurse didn’t get herself captured while I was gone.”
Chloé went to open the door and noticed it was locked.
“What the…”
“Let me try.” Fu interjected.
“Fine, just hurry up.”
He pulls out a jingling set of keys. Chloé shrugged as she turned around to keep watch.
Fu let his kwami companion out to open the door. Wayzz quickly undid the lock and opened the door before sliding back out of view.
“All done,” Fu said.
Chloé turned around as Fu opened the door.
The two quickly ran inside and locked the door behind them.
“Nurse Arugula!” Chloé called out. “I have a guest for you!”
“Arugala?”
“It was something with an A.” Chloé commented.
The two waited a few seconds, but there was no response.
They moved deeper into the office.
“Are you here?” Chloé questioned.
They flicked on the light switch to see the nurse in the cot.
“Oh, that’s great, I leave to go get help and be a hero and she goes off napping!” Chloé fumed.
Fu moved to the nurse and noticed she had a bruise on her neck, indicating that she was clearly forced into this state. He jabbed a pressure point and the nurse jolted awake.
“HUAGH!”
She nearly fell out of the cot.
“Glad you can join us from your nap,” Chloé hissed.
“Chloé? Did you call for help?” The nurse inquired as she gathered her bearings.
“No, the school is a total dead zone, and I couldn’t find a way out because they are all blocked by slime. Side note, I found this old guy.”
The nurse turned to the old man.
“Hello. I’m Angela.” She politely introduced herself.
“Nice to meet you. I am… Fung,” Fu lied. He couldn’t be too careful.
“Nice to meet you Fung, despite the circumstances,” she tried to make light of the situation.
“Every meeting can have a positive circumstance if one is looking for it.”
The calm in the air died when Angela realized that someone was missing.
“Oh no! The women you left in my care! She knocked me out and stormed out of here.” Angela exclaimed.
“Welp, she is probably captured,” Chloé shrugged.
“We have to find her, she has some sort of strange illness. Leaving her out there might be dangerous, akuma or not.”
Angela prepared to move to the door but was stopped by Chloé.
“Oh no you don’t! I brought this old man here for safety. You stay here with him.”
“But my patient!”
The woman was clearly shaking, but she was determined, she wanted to help her patient even if it meant going into danger. But much to Fu’s surprise, Chloé stepped up.
“I will bring your patient back. Mostly because being stuck in here seems much worse than dealing with a bunch of dumb akuma.”
Angela hugged Chloé.
“Thank you.”
Chloé tried to look annoyed, but a ghost of a smile appeared on the mayor’s daughter’s face. She accepted the hug for a moment.
Fu took notice. He had made his decision.
“Alright, enough touching! You deal with sick people all day. I don’t want germs,” Chloé stated as she tried to give off her usual air.
“That is very brave of you, young one.” Fu spoke.
“Pff, this is nothing. It’s what heroes do.”
As Chloé began making her way out of the nurse’s office, Fu quietly slipped the tiny miracle box into her bag.
‘I hope this was worth the risk.’
_____________________________________________________________
(END OF CHAPTER)
Well things are really heating up.
Will Ladyice and Icenoir be able to deal with stormy weather? Will Deadzone be the dead end for Ryuuko and Viperion? What is Masquerade's villainous plan? Will I update faster than every 40 or so days?
Let me know your thoughts and if you did enjoy the story.
REBLOG it and comment. Likes are nice but they don't really help content creators like they should.
#ml#ml fic#ml au#miraculous ladybug#ml fanfic#miraculous fanfiction#soulmate survey#SS part 36#ladybug#chat noir#fan akuma#masquerade#fan akuma deadzone#ryuuko#viperion#slight ladynoir#ladynoir#lukagami#drama#suspense
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Hii, can I request for angst to fluff with chuuya where he gets all overprotective. Thank youu
I hope this is angsty and fluffy enough for you! I tried my best with this one, but I admittedly didn't really lean into the overprotective aspect, not much anyway.
As the sunset outside, bathing the city in darkness in that small window of time before the populace came alive again for the later hours, you bustled around your apartment, fresh from the shower and getting ready to go out. Just as you were saying goodbye to your best friend to finish getting ready, you heard your front door unlock and open before your boyfriend called out for you.
When Chuuya got to your room, he found you pulling on some of your better clothing, your (h/c) hair tousled from a thorough toweling, "Oh, you getting dolled up for me?" He hummed, coming over to hook his powerful arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and swiftly down your neck while you laughed, "No, it isn't for you," he pulled a face as you swat him away gently, "I'm going out with my friends, but afterward we can do something on our own~" With that, you kissed his cheek and continued to get dressed up. Meanwhile, Chuuya huffed and plopped onto your bed heavily, watching you get ready for a moment before speaking again, "Why don't you stay in tonight? You and I could do something special, and I can reimburse you for any spoiled plans," You shot him a slightly annoyed look, "I'm not taking your money, Chuuya, and no. I've had this all planned out for a week, you knew I was going out with friends, I'm not canceling at the last minute." With that, you left the room to get your shoes and keys, the redhead following behind.
The two of you continued to argue as you gathered your things, the redhead trying to take your things from you as you bickered on your way to the door. Before you could open the door and step out into the night, he slammed a hand onto the door, stopping any attempt of you storming out, "What if I just didn't let you go out?" he asked coldly, his blue eyes narrowed at you, a look you matched, "I'd say you're toeing a very thin line, Nakahara. Move your hand, please." After that, the two of you glared at one another for a long, tense moment before the possibly smaller redhead shoved off of your door and finally let you go outside.
After that, you went out with your friends and had a good time, drinking, talking, all of the usual meet-up fun. In the end, you didn't start heading for home until it was properly dark, the hour obscured by the still-thriving streets of the bar area you'd gone to with friends, but it became pretty evident to you how late it was when you came to a quieter area and found barely a soul on the street with you. Nonetheless, you continued on down the sidewalk, humming to yourself and enjoying the light buzz you'd allowed yourself in your get-together. Then, just as you were looking down to check your messages to see if Chuuya was still lingering at your house, a pair of gloved hands shot out of a thin alleyway and dragged you into the silver of garbage and shadow with a cold knife pressed to your throat.
The rest of the interaction was a blur. You were instantly pumped full of adrenaline, so it was hard to focus on the questioned hurled at you by the strangers. Your focus was more on the glinting, cold silver of the knife they were swinging around, menacing it at you when you didn't give a coherent enough answer through your hiccuping sobs. You tried to squirm free, but the other two people helping the knife-wielder kept you in place. They gripped your arms in a vice grip, surely leaving bruises on your (s/c) skin. The one with the knife, meanwhile, continued to grill you, leaving slashes on your face and torso whenever you didn't know a satisfactory answer to his inquiries. In the end, you could only squeeze your (e/c) eyes shut. You couldn't answer their questions, you had no clue about the mafia beyond urban legend and rumors, you had no clue why they were so interested in Chuuya, so you took a ragged breath and shook with sobs while refusing to look at your attackers. Your legs turned to mush, forcing you to sink until the other two were the only ones holding you up.
Suddenly, a burning pain cut into your stomach, forcing you to open your widening eyes and draw in an instinctual gasp. In a flash, your body entirely burned but was also growing cold as your blood ran out onto the alleyway floor. It was such an odd feeling, one that sent your brain into a frenzy, your ears ringing loud enough to drown out whatever chaos was going on around you. You were numb. Even after you fell to the ground limply. It felt like forever until you could bring yourself to lift a shakey, weak arm to your wound and bring your hand into view. Your (s/c) fingers were painted a warm, sticky red when you saw them. Oh my god...I'm going to die, aren't I? You realized, unable to tell if your shallow breathing was an attempt to lessen the pain pulsing from your wounds, or from some form of a panic attack. Either way, in the end, you gave up your consciousness to the night.
When you regained consciousness, everything felt heavy and out of focus. When things finally came back to you enough for your brain to register your new surroundings, you realized that you were no longer in the trash-littered alley, but a tub. Chuuya's tub. Slowly, you sat up in the tub as best you could, looking around your boyfriend's bathroom, wincing a bit, and looking down at yourself. Only then did you realize that your stomach was wrapped in red-splotched bandages. So no, you weren't dead.
Just as you were running your fingers over the coarse, tightly weaved wrappings, Chuuya walked in, more bandages tucked under his arm with other bandages. "Oh shit, you're awake." he realized, dropping the medical supplies and hurrying over to check you over as if you could've further hurt yourself so soon after waking up. However, you didn't complain, letting the man wrap an arm around you, wiping away the tears that began to pour from your eyes. "I'm sorry! I should've stayed in," You blubbered, clinging to your boyfriend as he cuddled you and shushed you, "There's no need for you to apologize, dear. My demands were stupid, this isn't your fault," he promised, stroking your (h/l), (h/c) hair as you sobbed. After that, Chuuya kept you in his arms, hushing you gently and assuring you that you were safe and not at fault.
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Hello! I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly, I’ve never really done this before but I’m super excited since I am in love with your writing. I was just wondering if I could request how Formaggio and/or Illuso would react to meeting their partner’s very doting, huggy and loving parents for the first time? How do you think they would avoid the good old “and what do you do for a job” question? Would they dress nicely or bring a gift? Thanks so much :•)!
Hi ! Thank you for your request, it is perfect. All my apologies for the delay, hope that you're still around to read it. I really loved the prompt idea ! 💜🔅
Formaggio and Illuso meeting their partner's parents - headcanons (separately) :
Formaggio :
Contrary to common belief, Formaggio is going to be extra stressed for this occasion. He's usually an easy-going guy, but meeting his lover's parent is a huge deal for him. Knowing he can sometimes be a bit extra, he doesn't want to disappoint them.
Hence, he'll dress nicely, without overdressing. He'll ask you beforehand what do your parents consider as nice gifts before buying anything : he doesn't want to make them uncomfortable by buying a bottle of fine wine if they don't drink alcohol. His go-to ends up being a fancy box of chocolates. This is a great moment for Formaggio, and he's very happy to be able to spend an evening eating dinner in the comfort of your family's home.
Discovering that your parents are, in fact, such wonderful and doting human beings really takes off a weight off the man's shoulders. He's happy to discuss anything with them. Actually, he'll be so inspired to make a good first impression that he'll naturally talk about any subject with the ease and enthusiasm you and his team know him for. Something that your parents will appreciate immensely.
Formaggio happens to crack a few jokes here and there, and that makes your parents definitely like him. But when your mom asks him what does he does for a living, he panics internally. He thought of the question before, but what would he answer ? Now that Formaggio is facing your lovely parents, he can't bring himself to completely lie about it. Let's be honest, that's the moment he'll get a bit clumsy and flustered since he doesn't know how to change the subject or to give an answer that is satisfactory enough.
But your parents aren't deceived by his answer, how much vague it may be. His way of scratching embarassingly he back of his head is actually adorable. Let's just say that he has a difficult job, which often has to deal with people and their wrongdoings in some unknown spheres of this area of the city, and that sometimes he earns a lot of money, sometimes it's difficult to make ends meet.
"Ya know, I also always wanted to be a barista, was always attracted to that kind of job, and you're still in contact with people. I'm very social !" he'll add with an enthusiastic laugh.
Formaggio will definitely help your parents clean up the table after dinner, and will even show his skills at washing the dishes (he doesn't look like it, but he truly has a gift for doing that quickly and efficiently). Before leaving, he'll make your parents know how much he enjoyed the evening, and that he'll be glad to come back and enjoy their presence and affection any other time.
Illuso :
Illuso will be a bit nervous upon meeting your parents for the first time, but he won't show anything outwardly. It's a great occasion for him to dress in his fanciest clothes : he wants to make a good impression.
To say he's surprised upon meeting your parents isn't exaggerating things in the least : he didn't think your mom and dad were so loving and welcoming, especially to a stranger like him. He's very pleased to hand a beautiful bouquet of flowers to them. Maybe it's not the most useful gift per say, but Illuso knows that beauty often lies in the most ephemeral things known to exist on earth. Your parents will be very pleased with the effort he put into it (Illuso insisted on creating the bouquet by himself instead of letting the florist do it).
He's calm and collected and appreciates greatly the tea afternoon that your parents planned for the four of you. Illuso doesn't miss an occasion to compliment your mom on her homemade blueberry muffins. Your parents being very cheerful and sociable opens a door for a discussion about your childhood. Your boyfriend is more than pleased to learn about all the quite embarassing and/or adorable notable things you did as a child, and he doesn't forget to tease you about it.
"I would've never guess, that they were was so mischievous. Although...", and he'll keep the conversation going, his usual charming nature showing through the discussion, definitely winning your parents over.
However, Illuso isn't to keen on revealing what he does for a living. He'll answer something simple, and will say with a wink that some part of it is supposed to be secret,. Nonetheless, he still adds that part of his job is to inspect things and places : which is not very far from the truth, since his Stand usually serves for spying on La Squadra's targets and enemies, and makes the way for his other teammates to finish the work. Illuso is a good liar, but this time he only lies (by omitting informations) to protect your parents, since they are not supposed to be included in a gangster's business.
He stays quite confident the whole time you all are talking and bonding with each other, but when the time comes to leave and that both of your parents hug him fiercely, he doesn't know what to do anymore. He'll be a flustered mess, absolutely baffled by the affection he's given. Your dad ruffling a bit through his hair will have him speechless, he'll simply nod and smile, very grateful to have met your family.
After the event, he'll get all blushy if you tease him about it, but hey, it's only revenge for his teamming up with your parents and teasing you about your childhood.
#la squadra x reader#la squadra#la squadra esecuzioni#jjba x reader#jojo x reader#formaggio x reader#illuso x reader#jojo's bizarre adventure#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jjba headcanons
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The Death Eaters as a Cult - Part 2
Follow-up post to this post, exploring the DE dynamics and speculating on how Voldemort got them on his hook. Trigger warning: Cult abuse, I suppose.
The Death Eaters’ behavior at the graveyard reflects what was expected of them during the first war. LV refers to his Death Eaters as his “true family”, and yet:
Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.
“Master... Master...” he murmured.
The Death Eaters behind him did the same; each of them approaching Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle’s grave, Harry, Voldemort, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Wormtail. Yet they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.
If this is how anyone in your family has EVER treated you, go to the police. No: Death Eaters were expected to crawl on their knees and to kiss their master’s robe. He had enforced such discipline that they all remembered their place in the circle 13 years later. He expected to be worshiped and humiliated his own people.
He also tortures them, for their failure to try to find him and resurrect him:
“It is a disappointment to me... I confess myself disappointed....”
One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort’s feet. “Master!” he shrieked, “Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!” Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand. “Crucio!”
He also manipulates them:
“Get up, Avery,” said Voldemort softly. “Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years... I want thirteen years’ repayment before I forgive you.
Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?”
He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.
“You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don’t you?”
Why does LV feel that Peter owes him anything? Peter resurrected him. But pleasing LV is impossible. He needs his followers to be driven by loyalty, not fear - they are not even allowed to be self-interested in the sense of wanting not to die. Peter might deserve pain, but one must ask why Voldemort of all people feels this way - Peter never hurt him.
Then, he expects Peter to show gratitude for what he would have had in the first place, had Voldemort not taken it from him: a hand. Peter falls for it:
“Yes, Master,” moaned Wormtail, “please, Master... please...”
“Yet you helped return me to my body,” said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. “Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me... and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers....”
[...]
“My Lord,” he whispered. “Master... it is beautiful... thank you... thank you.”
That’s how Voldemort rewards his helpers: He stops the pain he himself inflicted.
These are Death Eaters with obvious vulnerabilities for Voldemort to exploit:
Barty Crouch Jr. has a very dysfunctional relationship with his dad. Sirius: “Crouch’s fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn’t much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy... then he sent him straight to Azkaban”.
Voldemort clearly took advantage of this, played up the parallel between Tom Riddle Sr. and Barty Crouch Sr., and BCJ has clearly come to see him as something of a father figure:
“I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter... closer than a son....”
[...]
“The Dark Lord and I,” said Moody, and he looked completely insane now, towering over Harry, leering down at him, “have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers... very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure... the very great pleasure... of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!”
Bellatrix’s vulnerability is obvious: She’s in love with Voldemort. He is constantly toying with her, promising intimacy and reward, but never delivering. He only uses her: Her vault, her duelling skills, her home. It’s interesting that she’s the only female DE outside of Alecto. Perhaps she was insecure about being female, or felt oppressed by her marriage, or perhaps she was failing to live up to her family’s expectation that she make pureblood babies, and Voldemort promised her a future where she’d be free of these constraints.
She’s supposed to be the closest one to him, the one he cares about the most, yet she too fears his wrath. Following the prophecy’s destruction:
“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer.
“Master, you should know —”
“Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?”
“But Master — he is here — he is below —”
Voldemort paid no attention.
He really should have paid attention to her warning that Dumbledore was coming. Instead, he threatened her even as she was begging forgiveness for something that was not her fault.
The chapter Spinner’s End shows how giftedVoldemort is at spreading enmity and discord among his followers. Not only do they not all know each other, the ones who do can never conspire against their master, because of the atmosphere of distrust.
“Before I answer you — oh yes, Bellatrix, I am going to answer! You can carry my words back to the others who whisper behind my back, and carry false tales of my treachery to the Dark Lord! Before I answer you, I say, let me ask a question in turn. Do you really think that the Dark Lord has not asked me each and every one of those questions? And do you really think that, had I not been able to give satisfactory answers, I would be sitting here talking to you?”
She hesitated.
“I know he believes you, but...”
“You think he is mistaken? Or that I have somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen?”
He is accusing Bella of heresy. He has clearly learned a thing or two about manipulation, having spent his entire adult life either under Voldemort or under Dumbledore. He presents himself as selfish for staying with Dumbledore, and he presents Voldemort’s words as gospel: “The Dark Lord does not complain that I stayed, so I do not see why you do.” He also takes pride in being closer to him and more useful:
“But what use have you been?” sneered Bellatrix. “What useful information have we had from you?”
“My information has been conveyed directly to the Dark Lord,” said Snape. “If he chooses not to share it with you —”
“He shares everything with me!” said Bellatrix, firing up at once.
“He calls me his most loyal, his most faithful —”
“Does he?” said Snape, his voice delicately inflected to suggest his disbelief.“Does he still, after the fiasco at the Ministry?”
The master stroke is the subtle insinuation that lowly half-blood Snape is closer to Voldemort than Bellatrix is. This makes her lose what little composure she had, and plays on her insecurity. Her interrogation ends shortly thereafter, and she seems satisfied with explanations that are frankly not very convincing.
“If he has forbidden it, you ought not to speak,” said Snape at once. “The Dark Lord’s word is law.”
Narcissa gasped as though he had doused her with cold water. Bellatrix looked satisfied for the first time since she had entered the house.
“There!” she said triumphantly to her sister. “Even Snape says so: You were told not to talk, so hold your silence!”
Bella is enforcing silence on her sister. This phenomenon exists in real cults too: Members enforce the rules on each other, the leader’s hands are clean.
Bella tells Cissy off for caring whether Draco lives or dies:
“Draco should be proud,” said Bellatrix indifferently. “The Dark Lord is granting him a great honor. And I will say this for Draco: He isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect —”
I think this was LV’s pitch to Bella: She is the one who wanted to prove herself.
Bella is willing to give him so much, and he gives her nothing. Also, twice she claims that it’s a point of pride to be willing to die for the Dark Lord.
In DLA, he is particularly subtly abusive toward her:
“My Lord,” said a dark woman halfway down the table, her voice constricted with emotion, “it is an honor to have you here, in our family’s house. There can be no higher pleasure.”
[...]
Bellatrix leaned toward Voldemort, for mere words could not demonstrate her longing for closeness.
Why is Bellatrix halfway down the table? She has been unfailingly loyal, why is he punishing her with distance? Is he punishing her for being related to Narcissa?
“No higher pleasure,” repeated Voldemort, his head tilted a little to one side as he considered Bellatrix. “That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you.”
Her face flooded with color; her eyes welled with tears of delight.
“My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!”
Look how nice he’s being! Look how happy he makes her! Except this is immediately followed by teasing her about her niece’s marriage:
“No higher pleasure... even compared with the happy event that, I hear, has taken place in your family this week?”
She stared at him, her lips parted, evidently confused.
“I don’t know what you mean, my Lord.”
“I’m talking about your niece, Bellatrix. And yours, Lucius and Narcissa. She has just married the werewolf, Remus Lupin. You must be so proud.”
There was an eruption of jeering laughter from around the table. Many leaned forward to exchange gleeful looks; a few thumped the table with their fists. The great snake, disliking the disturbance, opened its mouth wide and hissed angrily, but the Death Eaters did not hear it, so jubilant were they at Bellatrix and the Malfoys’ humiliation. Bellatrix’s face, so recently flushed with happiness, had turned an ugly, blotchy red.
He is punishing with humiliation. Lucius screwed up the mission at the DOM and Draco didn’t kill Dumbledore, but what did Bella do? Nobody is safe. Instead of resenting the way she is treated, Bellatrix demonstrates her fanaticism:
“She is no niece of ours, my Lord,” she cried over the outpouring of mirth. “We — Narcissa and I — have never set eyes on our sister since she married the Mudblood. This brat has nothing to do with either of us, nor any beast she marries.”
[...]
“Many of our oldest family trees become a little diseased over time,” he said as Bellatrix gazed at him, breathless and imploring.
“You must prune yours, must you not, to keep it healthy? Cut away those parts that threaten the health of the rest.”
“Yes, my Lord,” whispered Bellatrix, and her eyes swam with tears of gratitude again. “At the first chance!”
“You shall have it,” said Voldemort. “And in your family, so in the world... we shall cut away the canker that infects us until only those of the true blood remain....”
Bella does not needanyone (a half-blood!) to teach her she must keep her family tree pure. She clearly doesn’t know crucial things about Tom Riddle, or is in denial. This is the same Bellatrix who killed her own cousin, so she is very capable of “pruning” her own family tree.
At the Malfoy Manor:
“Gold!” laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. “Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his — of —”
She stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something Harry could not see. Jubilant at her capitulation, Lucius threw her hand from him and ripped up his own sleeve —
“STOP!” shrieked Bellatrix. “Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!”
She seeks only the honor of his [something], but she is scared to death of him. She will kill for him and die for him, but she is keenly aware of the possibility that he might kill her - yet she loves him. She is a true believer - without him, she is nothing, and her devotion controls her every interaction. In her defense, he does not let others kill her, at least - he saves her at the end of the battle at the Department of Mysteries and seems upset when she dies.
Bellatrix thinks independently once: She doesn’t trust Snape, even though her master does. This is not so odd - the half-blood appears to be undermining her, to have aspirations to griw even closer to Voldemort than her - her jealousy and insecurity override how brainwashed she is. The dynamic between the Black sisters exemplifies the way cults drive wedges between family members - not that the Black family needed any help with that.
Peter’s vulnerability is obvious: His own friends think he’s worthless. He clearly isn’t - he became an animagus too, and he tricked Sirius, kill 12 Muggles with a single curse, and perform the tasks to revive Voldemort - but Voldemort exploited Peter’s insecurity, and even whatever guilt Peter had felt at betraying his friends. Sirius says Peter always sought the protection of the biggest bully. His “uselessness” was the express reason Sirius switched with Peter - obviously, someone like that could never be pegged for a potential spy. Voldemort must have made Peter feel valuable, like there was something only Peter could do - and when Peter’s choices ran out, he showed Peter his true colors.
We’ve seen how LV treated Peter at the resurrection ceremony. We also have the way he bossed him around in the first chapter of GOF, and that he forced Peter to work as Snape’s “assistant”, as seen in Spinner’s End. Sending Peter to work for Snivellus was brilliantly cruel - Peter must have viewed this as the height of humiliation.
In Dark Lord Ascending, he is shrinking himself to near non-existence:
“Yes, m-my Lord,” gasped a small man halfway down the table, who had been sitting so low in his chair that it had appeared, at first glance, to be unoccupied. Now he scrambled from his seat and scurried from the room, leaving nothing behind him but a curious gleam of silver.
In part 3 - Draco, Regulus, Snape, Lucius, general dynamics, and more speculations!
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'Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.'
@ninjago-angst-week am I late or what? Sorry but I think spewing out 21k words over teh course of 3 days killed my motivation. It took 3 days just to write 6.1k words.
Summary:
P.I.X.A.L. notices that the store of bandages is running low. She thinks about all the times she had to use them on one of her teammates, and its purposes.
“Hey Pix! We’re running low on bandages. Can you help us order some before we go to Shintaro?” Nya’s voice came from the medical bay of the Destiny’s Bounty. The Ninja and Master Wu were going on a trip to Shintaro. Unfortunately, Pixal never got an invite, but she has long been used to being left behind. It’s not that it was a bad thing, per se. Pixal knew the importance of having a backup, and having someone watch over Ninjago whilst the Ninja were gone. Still, to distract herself after placing a digital order, she thought about anything that could distract her. That thing just happened to be about bandages.
Bandages. Neat, white little things that wrap around any land or sky creature. According to Wikipedia, a bandage is a piece of material used either to support a medical device such as a dressing or splint, or on its own to provide support to or to restrict the movement of a part of the body. When used with a dressing, the dressing is applied directly to a wound, and a bandage is used to hold the dressing in place. Other bandages are used without dressings, such as elastic bandages that are used to reduce swelling or provide support to a sprained ankle. Tight bandages can be used to slow blood flow to an extremity, such as when a leg or arm is bleeding heavily.
At first, that was all P.I.X.A.L. knew about bandages. Given that she was built with the main purpose of being Cyrus Borg’s assistant, her primary knowledge consisted mostly of the ins and outs of Borg Tower, emergency protocols, customer service skills, and basic first aid, given that her maker was frailer than your average Ninjago citizen.
Of course, the longer she worked under Cyrus Borg, the more she learnt about the medical field. Curious about Mr Borg’s special circumstances, she was permitted to look through the internet for more information. In no time at all, she learnt about surgery, prosthetics, all different kinds of medication, and how to diagnose illnesses. In her given free time, she studied all the information available on the internet about the medical field. Even though the information was useless to her, an android who had no physical weaknesses like the humans do, her system determined that whilst the knowledge was a bit excessive, it only helps to prepare her to care for Mr Borg.
She never really needed to apply all that knowledge about serious and fatal cuts, but when Borg gets even the slightest injury, P.I.X.A.L. was there to offer her assistance.
A year after she had been created, Cyrus Borg had offered her to take a test of the field in medicine. P.I.X.A.L. had immediately felt lighter and better somehow. When asking Borg why she was feeling this way and if robots could get sick, Borg had laughed in surprise and shock.
“That feeling is happiness, P.I.X.A.L.! It’s an emotion that all living creatures feel, you included.”
“But I am not living-“ Mr Borg cut her off.
“Technically, you are right, P.I.X.A.L., but you are intelligence, and intelligence is what defines life. You can adapt, change, and overcome as all living beings do. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Because that would be an insult to my intelligence!” Cyrus Borg said encouragingly. “And robots can technically get sick, from a digital virus. But I created you to be strong, stronger than I ever will be. You should not have to worry about them.”
P.I.X.A.L. nodded her head to show her understanding. “Then I will go to the exam.”
P.I.X.A.L. didn’t pass on her first try, but Mr Borg told her that it was alright, given that she still did very well considering that she only had the free internet to look for answers to a test she was unprepared for. It was human for her to have failed.
“So why did you send me there with no preparation?” P.I.X.A.L. asked with a shaking voice.
“To prepare you for failure, my dear!” Cyrus Borg said patronisingly. “Since I’ve built you, you’ve been perfect in many, many ways. And that isn’t a bad thing! But life isn’t that simple. You may fail in one way or another in the future because like humans, the circumstances may not be what you desired and plans can fall apart due to errors. What I want you to know is how failure feels like, and I will help you recover from it.”
P.I.X.A.L. nodded. It won’t be long before she faced her first, real big failure.
- Lloyd - The first time she had to really apply those skills that she learnt was when the team had seen Lloyd in the village. After he was pulled out of the ocean because he had to escape from an exploding plane that the Digilord had trapped him on. The locals had wanted to help, but Lloyd wasn’t feeling like having strangers cut him up, so they offered him some basic and outdated medical supplies.
P.I.X.A.L. could see him trying to treat himself and to stay awake, and she could see him hiss as the alcohol drizzled on his wounds.
“LLOYD!” Kai shouted in a tone that conveyed panic. This made the young ultimate spinjitzu master look up from his handiwork and immediately break into a smile. As the team had rushed forward to greet him, P.I.X.A.L. could see that his shoulders were sagging, probably from relief.
“I’m so sorry that I got caught guys,” Lloyd wheezed with an apologetic smile before keeling over, to which Cole caught him with shaking hands.
“Oh god, Zane, quick, do your thing!” Kai panicked even harder, hands jittery as if he was in an internal debate about whether he should do something or not. “I’m trying Kai! I just- my hands keep shaking for some reason!” Zane gritted his teeth in frustration. “I’m gonna run some diagnostics on him” “Okay, Cole, lie him on a flat surface- medic! Medic!” Nya screamed out.
It was at this moment that P.I.X.A.L. knew that was her chance. To repay Zane for his heart. To prove to the team that she was useful. To finally implement her knowledge. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll ever have what Zane has with the other humans, but for now, she is glad that she can separate her emotions from her work.
“Let me handle it,” P.I.X.A.L. said authoritatively. Running a scan with her own diagnostics, P.I.X.A.L. isolated the most dangerous injuries before telling the group out loud, staring at her apprehensively.
“Master Lloyd has suffered a concussion, lung damage due to smoke inhalation, and fractured bones in his tibia. He also has a sprained ankle and several bones on his upper chest area have several bruises. Luckily, there is no internal bleeding. He also has some first and second-degree burns, but those look like they have been treated by the ocean water. However, he is at risk of hypothermia should he not change out of those clothes. Other cuts and bruises should not be life-threatening as long as we keep the infection away, and-“
“WE GET IT! Can you just PLEASE start treating Lloyd NOW?” Jay shrieked in frustration. P.I.X.A.L. blinked. Oh right, the ninjas are still panicking.
“Apologies, can I have a look at the medical supplies?” Taking a scalpel out of the medical box, P.I.X.A.L. removed Lloyd Garmadon’s shirt and so multiple bruises as well as the look of someone who’s emancipated. It didn’t really make any sense to her, but she supposed that being drained of his elemental powers must have caused some damage.
“To treat his concussion, he needs peace and to rest. I would like if all of you can speak in whispers from now on,” P.I.X.A.L. began. The soup suddenly looked ashamed and guilty, with Jay whispering a soft ‘sorry’.
“To treat his hypothermia, we would need blankets-“
“Why can’t I just warm him up with fire?” Kai cut across. “Well, the extreme heat can damage the skin or, even worse, cause irregular heartbeats so severe that they can cause the heart to stop. However, starting a campfire some meters away could help a little. using this fire, we can make some warm beverages and some food.”
“Just say what we gotta do doc, we’ll listen!” Nya begged swiftly. P.I.X.A.L. thought for a moment, before choosing to sort people out based on their perceived abilities.
“Kai, Jay, Cole, Sensei Wu, and Sensei Garmadon- please look for blankets in the village and start a campfire over there,” Pointing at a spot a satisfactory distance from Lloyd, P.I.X.A.L. continued with giving instructions. “Start making some sort of soup- not too heavy. Zane, Nya- you’re with me.”
Garmadon, who was silent all this time, started to protest. “I cannot leave my son, Pixal.”
“Fine, you may stay and just keep tending to the campfire,” P.I.X.A.L. conceded, not wanting to waste time arguing. There was the matter of fact that the smoke inhaled by Lloyd Garmadon could be fatal, but there was not much that she could do in his location. All she could hope to do was to treat his minor injuries before ensuring that Lloyd is stable enough to go to a hospital in Ninjago. Which would have been impossible, given that the Digilord had control of the city already. What could she do? Maybe there’s an elemental master of the air who could treat Lloyd?
“Pix, do you not have any ideas on how to treat the smoke inhalation?” Zane looked at her with kind and understanding eyes. Pixal nodded, defeated, before preparing a cast. “We need concentrated oxygen and a nose tube or a tube down his throat. Unfortunately, there is nowhere in Ninjago where we can get to such technology.”
Hearing this, Nya immediately perked up. “But we can make them. Zane, do you have any wires that you can spare for a bit?”
“Redirecting power from the right hand,” Zane replied as he opened up his arm to take out a tube. He’s so self-sacrificing. For some strange reason, P.I.X.A.L. felt her heart beating faster. Maybe Zane was nervous? “Nya, if you could please clean this?”
“Of course. HEY KAI!” “Yeah, sis?” Nya was looking at P.I.X.A.L. expectantly. Oh yes. she was supposed to know this, wasn’t she? “Can you get us 10 cups of potable water and 1 cup of vinegar? Also, get some detergent or soap.” “Okay Pix, not gonna question this at all!”
Meanwhile, Nya was using pure H2O to just start blasting the tubing As much as they wanted Lloyd to not die from smoke inhalation, they also didn’t want him to be infected. Speaking of infections…
“Ow!” Lloyd woke up sleepily as Zane used one hand to dab his cuts. Looking sheepish, Zane immediately offered an apology before Nya cuts in and admitting her mistake.
“Go back to Lloyd,” Nya said, petting his hair. Once Kai had returned with the necessary materials, Nya sanitised her hands before delicately cleaning the tube with 10 parts water and 1 part vinegar.
Tightening the wrappings around Lloyd’s ankle, Pixal studied her handiwork. The splint was holding up nicely against Lloyd’s leg, and all the infections on Lloyd’s legs were taken care of. Seeing as Zane is treating Lloyd well enough, P.I.X.A.L. immediately began to start diagnosing Lloyd’s burns before seeing blood flow from Lloyd’s back.
“Oh, dear.” In her hast, P.I.X.A.L. had forgotten to check Lloyd for injuries from behind. Maybe she wasn’t as professional as she thought. There was no other choice. Looking at Zane firmly, they pushed Lloyd onto his side as he gave a pained groan.
P.I.X.A.L.’s mechanical heart sank. Lloyd had a reason for sitting up without any support. There were several pieces of debris stuck to his back, and they were all pushed in due to them lying Lloyd on the desk. Nya looked up from her task in horror.
“I’m so sorry Lloyd, I didn’t know-“ “Nya, please focus on your task,” P.I.X.A.L. cut her off before she could begin crying. She felt bad, but what’s done was done. Blocking Lloyd from’s Nya’s view, P.I.X.A.L. picked up a pair of tweezers before picking up the small pieces. But the large piece of metal stuck in his shoulder blades- Pixal had to cut Lloyd’s skin to get that out. Eyes narrowing, hardening her resolve- P.I.X.A.L. lightly cut Lloyd’s skin using the scalpel before pulling up a long shard of bloodied glass. Picking up some of the unused water, P.I.X.A.L. quickly cleared Lloyd and the flat-surfaced of their blood. Applying pressure to those wounds would be hard from this angle, so after disinfecting the openings, P.I.X.A.L. took several rolls of bandages before tying them around Lloyd’s chest. Not too tightly, that would further bruise his ribs- but tight enough to ensure a sense of security and staunch the oozing bleeding.
“Zane, do you have an oxygen filter?” Nya asked, having been satisfied by the cleanliness of the tubing. Sanitising her metallic hands, P.I.X.AL. heard Zane sigh before declining.
“I do. Mr Borg wanted us to be at least a little environmentally friendly, given that the Nindroids would be using large amounts of energy every day. So I can filter out excess greenhouse gases in the air and store them in their solid form before giving the raw materials back to Borg Industries,” P.I.X.A.L. offered.
“You’re a lifesaver Pix,” Nya said in relief, handing P.I.X.A.L. the tubing. P.I.X.A.L. smiled. She supposed that she actually was. Opening Lloyd Garmadon’s mouth, P.I.X.A.L. inserted the tubing down his throat with NIndroid precision. Connecting the end to her oxygen filter, P.I.X.A.L. adjusted the settings so that she was inputting air composing of at least 60% oxygen into young Garmadon’s lungs.
As Zane finished applying some frost to Lloyd’s burns, the 3 of them stood there and watched as Lloyd breathed in and out.
“If you guys don’t mind, I’ll go find what the guys have been doing,” Nya informed their group. “I too will go into the village, but to ensure that we have permission to stay here for the night,” Zane stated, giving a nod to P.I.X.A.L., before walking away into the dusk, right hand locked and useless.
P.I.X.A.L., knowing that she can’t really move, sat next to Lloyd Garmadon as she watched the campfire grow as shrieks from the ninja team rose. At the end of today, all P.I.X.A.L. wanted to do was to just shut down and recharge. She knows she doesn’t need to know that she had half of Zane’s heart (which just skipped another beat for some unknown reason), but all she wants was a break.
Too bad that being a ninja means that you don’t really get to choose when to stop. P.I.X.A.L. thought to herself.
But at least today, I’ve proved my usefulness. I can repay Zane for his heart.
- Kai - Having been stuck alone, disassembled and scrapped, P.I.X.A.L. found that she really, really missed the Ninja team. She also missed Zane, though he was in a cell next to hers. He’s been offline for such a long time, P.I.X.A.L. had fears that he would never wake up.
But he did. And the ninja had rescued them from Chen. But along the way, they had lost Sensei Garmadon, and the year apart had caused some major issues.
Kai doesn’t know that they’re here. But he shouldn’t be here either after Zane had ordered that everyone go to rest after this long day. Still, the glint of red from his eyes even scared P.I.X.A.L., but she would never tell anyone that. She watched as Kai shredded the bandages he wrapped around his hands by destroying a metal training dummy, before turning around to wrap some more.
“Why is he doing that?” P.I.X.A.L. wondered from inside Zane’s head. Zane started whispering, “He… has some anger issues.”
“I get that Zane, I mean why’s he wrapping his hands in bandages?” P.I.X.A.L. corrected herself. Zane quirked an eyebrow but continued with answering P.I.X.A.L.’s questions. “Well, martial artists wear hand wraps and bandages because they can prevent injuries and improve the power of their punches. Wraps and bandages also protect the martial artist’s skin and soften the impact on hard surfaces.”
“I see,” P.I.X.A.L. stated whilst both of them cringed, as Kai delivered a particularly hard blow to the metallic dummy that Zane was supposed to fight with.
“KAI, PLEASE SHUT UP!” came Jay’s voice from down the corridor, moving closer towards them. Zane and P.I.X.A.L. watched in apprehension as Kai breathed heavily, staring down the metallic dummy before all the tension from his shoulders sagged.
The Nindroids watched as Kai cleaned up the training room and head out to use the bathroom to wash up.
“He’s being too hard on himself for the death of Lloyd’s father,” P.I.X.AL. commented blandly. Zane shifted from his position. “I’m afraid that that’s not the only reason. Do you remember Jay telling us that Kai had almost killed both Lloyd and Skylor using Chen’s staff?” P.I.X.A.L. stayed silent.
Bandages come in many ways. There are gauze bandages, treating all kinds of wounds the Ninja may have. There are bandages used to prevent injury in Martial Arts. What P.I.X.A.L. is wondering, is that if mankind has a bandage for the heart.
- Jay - It was only a few days after Master Wu had been lost in time. Whilst the Ninja team were recuperating and in shock, Pixal has been remotely using Samurai X to patrol the cities whilst maintaining in the current Ninja’s headquarters- the electronic system of Yang’s temple. P.I.X.AL. had really wanted to go full into Samurai X, but she knew that she could not just desert her teammates at this moment. But there wasn’t much she could do, other than counting reps for Lloyd. (You skipped a number, I know what you’re doing Pix, and I ain’t gonna stop training-) helping Jay prepare breakfast (Jay! The pancakes are burning!) or accompanying Zane as he retrieved bits and pieces from all the fighting. (Someone has to clean up Ninjago city, and I guess that that would be me and Samurai X.)
P.I.X.A.L. knew that she shouldn’t be keeping Samurai X a secret, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt a strange sense of duty, and the ability to finally be on the front lines, fighting the same enemies as Zane. And she wanted some secrets to herself.
Still, it surprised her when Jay had demanded her full attention during one of her free times.
“Hey, umm… Pix? Do you- do you think you could maybe check out my left eye?” Jay stammered whilst twiddling his fingers. Pixal was curious, but she’s already moved to Jay’s laptop. “Why do you ask so? Did your eye get hit sometime recently?”
Jay had flinched at the word ‘hit’, but shook his head at the word ‘recently’. Huh. Maybe it was phantom pains? Still, Pixal had run a diagnostic on it.
“I can’t seem to find any physical abnormalities, but if this is a case of phantom pain, over the counter pain relievers should work.”
Jay nodded whilst his eyes were blank seemingly off to another world or lost in his memories.
“Jay? Jay, can you hear me?” Pixal once again ran a diagnostic scan. It seems that Jay was slipping into dissociation. Dimming the lights in his room as well as all the screens the blue ninja had put into his room. Pixal started playing a calm Ninjago lofi mix from the speaker she was in. She gently called Jay’s name and he slipped back into reality.
“Jay, just take 2 doses of ibuprofen. They’re at the lowest shelf at the kitchen counter. If it hurts again, tell me and we’ll bring you to a professional.”
Jay who was nodding at the instructions froze at the thought of being taken to the hospital. Still, he slid off his bed and made his way downstairs. Pixal filtered through the electronic system of the temple, landing new the smart fridge and watched as Jay swallowed 2 pills dry.
It seemed to create some results because Jay stopped shivering and shaking. Pixal wondered if that was just a placebo or an actual effect. Still, watching Jay’s face relax in bliss, free from whatever pain that was bothering him, Pixal knew that she made the right call.
- Nya - S9, fight with SOG
It had been brutal. Pixal was just treating the training injuries Lloyd had when Skylor came into the noodle house, helping Nya to walk as her left arm dangled without any purpose. Immediately, Pixal stood up and took quick strides, scanning Nya for all her injuries.
“We were getting supplies when a bunch of Harumi’s goons jumped on us, we had to be quick so that none of them could call up for back up, when-“ “When- fuck, when this dude pulled out a fucking gun,” Nya said, pained and heaving as Skylor slowly helped her to sit on the training mat.
“So you were shot?” Lloyd’s voice came from behind Pixal as he took the medkit to the mat. Nya eyes looked everywhere but at him. Gesturing to her limp and bleeding arm, she gave up all her dignity. “Yeah, right here.”
“Okay, Nya, here, take these.” Lloyd handed her 2 tablets of ibuprofen and a cup of water. “W-what? No, I can’t take these!” Nya hissed in pain.
“Yes, you can!” “What if we need them later? What if one of us loses an arm or something happens where we have a worse injury?” “That does not matter, Nya. Look, I’ve been shot in Ninjago city before, I know how it feels.”
Pixal immediately flashes back to the nights where she had to help Lloyd through a computer screen, and her metallic fingers curled up. It was horrible, watching him choking down painkillers before trying to pull the bullet out himself. Never again.
“Nya, it would be alright, just take these- we can always go out to get more,” Pixal tried coaxing Nya to just swallow the pills.
“Take them or I’ll force you to take them, Water Ninja.” Skylor admonished. With the combined strength of their motley crew of 3, Nya hesitantly reached for the medicine, almost choking as she had swallowed too much water at one go.
“Okay, good, now we just need to pull the bullet out,” Lloyd reached into the medkit, pulling out a pair of tweezers. Pixal watched as his hands, fatigued from all the trains, couldn’t stop shaking.
“Wait, Lloyd, let me see if the bullet should be removed at all.” Pixal interrupted, taking a more in-depth scan at Nya’s shoulder. In the meantime, Lloyd started to check through Skylor, who said that he was all clear except for a few knuckle bruises. Of course, Pixal would check on her later, but now she had to make sure that Nya would be alright.
“The bullet has missed your major arteries and it actually isn’t in too deep, possibly because of the protection offered by your suit-“ “Just tell me when you’re gonna remove it!” Nya snapped as her brow furrowed in anticipation. “Well, let’s see… first, we need to remove the clothing around the area of the wound, which-“
“AHH!” Nya shrieked as Pixal twisted and pulled out the bullet without any warning. “Sorry Nya, sometimes fear of a thing could be greater than the actual danger that it poses,” Pixal explained as Nya stared at her with a look that could only scream betrayal.
Dropping the bullet to the ground, Pixal took up some disinfectant and sanitised the area around the entry wound. Nya hissed as Pixal gently presses a cotton gauze to stop the bleeding before finally applying some sort of disinfectant cream. She finished off the wound with a bandage around Nya’s arm, with extra padding using gauze at the point where the wound is at.
“Alright, so now you should not move this arm too much for the next few days, and in the next few weeks, you would not be able to raise it over your shoulder. But in a few months, you can use it again and in a year it would be pretty much healed up so that you may do your weight lifting sessions with- with Cole again…” Pixal said, starting brightly but dropping to a small whisper.
The mood suddenly went from cheery to depressive. “Remember to take lots of rest,” Pixal finished lamely. As Lloyd escorted Nya to the sleeping bags they had gathered, Skylor picked up the bullet Pixal had removed.
“Girl, you were quite mean back there,” Skylor began. “And I think that you’re cool. One problem- the pharmacies have not been able to continue business as normal. All the drugs have to be given to the Sons of Garmadon. In the meantime, all supply chains are disrupted. Over the counter medicine won’t be so easy to find. “
Pixal kept quiet. “Well, I’ll have to keep this bullet as a souvenir for Nya. FSM knows that she deserves this.”
Of course, the bullet would be lost later as they were hunted down throughout the city. But every time Nya changed into her swimsuit, Pixal could see the bullet wound. The scarring left wasn’t pretty, but Pixal thought that the courage Nya showed made her the most beautiful woman she’ll ever have the chance to meet.
- Cole- Cole was alive. Cole was alive!
Pixal watched as the Ninja went into a momentary stop before cheering and becoming more alive. She saw Nya pass the Scythe of Earth to Cole, who promptly swung it into the oncoming Oni. Pixal was trying her best to fend off the Oni herself, but her mind, or rather, motherboard, was spinning really, really fast. How did Cole survive? It should have been impossible!
Pixal heard that Cole justify his survival, stating that the Oni clouds must have broken his fall. He didn’t know how he wasn’t attacked at first, but many tendrils then came to attack him.
Still, this was impossible for Pixal to figure out. Was it because Cole had been a ghost? Maybe it was his elemental power protecting him? Or perhaps it was divine intervention? Either way, Pixal was going o scan him later if there was even a later.
“Watch out!” Pixal saw a blast of green hit the Oni in front of her. I can’t afford to get lost in thought now! Come on Samurai X, focus! She chided to herself.
Yet, as the battle once again turned tides, and the elemental masters got together to do the Tornado of Creation, Pixal watched from her position behind the holding doors to see Lloyd Garmadon get thrown out of the tornado, hitting his head with an earth-shattering crack as he collapsed against the walls of the monastery before debris-covered him.
Frantically approaching him, Pixal saw out of the corner of her eye that the rest of the ninja were left dizzy, exhausted, and possibly some having passed out. That was alright. It was time for her to do her duty anyways.
However, whilst lifting slabs of concrete, Pixal felt her heart drop. The calculated survival rate of the impact sent shivers down Pixal’s circuits as the percentage just kept. Dropping. Lower.
Heaving the last piece of concrete off the young bearer of green power, Pixal heard her teammates rushing into the scene. She could have warned them, said something, said anything. But her joints were frozen in place with something much colder than what her sensors had detected when she went into the Oni cloud.
The motley crew, now only 5, took the last piece of debris off from their teammate.
“Lloyd. Buddy, wake up,” Kai pleaded, desperate. “He-He's not moving!” Nya exclaimed, voice shaking as tears start to form. She looked at Pixal, asking for anything, anything at all. “Someone find Wu. Where’s Wu?” Cole ordered.
In no time, Master Wu arrived and lifted Lloyd’s arm, checking his pulse. He would find nothing there.
“You can do something, right? Right?!” Jay panicked. With a defeated look that Pixal knows is mirrored in her eyes, Wu shook his head and said, “There’s nothing to be done.” Nya finally cries out, sobbing. “Oh, Lloyd!”
PIxal wanted to cry as well, but she never could. When rebuilding her body, she had used the same blueprints that Cyrus Borg had with some upgrades. One thing she didn’t consider adding was the ability to cry because there wasn’t any time. She had to save Lloyd from the vermillion. But what she can’t save Lloyd from, was from an early- early- d… fate.
There’s nothing Pixal could do. And she felt hopeless.
She watched from the corner of her eye as Garmadon backed away from their small group, and in a flash, she felt her wires burning. She couldn’t just let him leave. Not after what he’s done.
Yet, just as she was about to boost straight towards the Oni and tackle him off the mountain, Lloyd started to cough. Lloyd. Started to cough.
Whipping around to see a golden petal float away, she watched the team cheer as Lloyd started to breathe. How- this was impossible! Pixal almost short-circuited from shock. There had been no way! No way! She didn’t even go through all 5 stages of grief yet.
And not too soon, Lloyd woke up from a sleep that she was sure that he never would.
Catching him mumbling something about the First Spinjitzu Master, Pixal smiled. Divine intervention had definitely happened at least once today. The first time being….
“Cole, please come with me to the med bay,” Pixal requested with a smile. Divine intervention or not, five-sixths of the Ninja team knows how to hide a serious injury, and she had to be certain. Cole, who looked shopped, resigned himself and walked with Pixal o the medical centre. For now, she trusted that Zane was doing all the scans that he could to make sure that Lloyd was right in the head, and sought out to take care of her own, albeit selfish, worries.
Scanning Cole on both sides, Pixal noticed a particular bad bruise on Cole’s spine. Yet falling from that height and the fact that Cole isn’t paralysed due to spinal injury made Pixal reaffirm her theories that the First Spinjitsu Master was alive, just in another realm.
“You know, Lloyd might have actually seen the First Spinjitsu Master,” Pixal began, which led Cole to choke on the water he was ordered to drink. “No way, he must have just hit his head hard…”
“I’m sorry Cole, but the injuries you have is comparable to sleeping on a rock hard bed for one night, not falling from a height of 500m, even if your fall was broken by the Oni cloud, you should still have been paralysed,” Pixal explained.
“So God is real and Lloyd’s sharing a fourth of his blood? Neat! Next time tell him to not scare us with a fake-out,” Cole brushed it off.
At this time Pixal was about the shutdown and delve deep into theorising. Lloyd technically had a fourth of his grandfather’s blood and possessed the same power, could he possible have powers that control life and death-
Yet, she watched as a steady stream of Ninja enter the medbay, and resolved her thoughts to her inner GPU. She can think later. For now, she had to make sure that everyone is okay, and everyone will be okay. Even if she threatens Loyd to shave his head so she can get a better look at his skull, to which a chase around the monastery ensued. Her family was alright for now, and the concerning mortality of humans was left deep in the recesses of her mind.
- Zane - Too soon, Pixal had to face her own mortality. Being a Nindroid, her lifespan would naturally be much longer than a Ninja’s. But she still could be erased, dismantled, destroyed, sent to another realm-
The days waiting for the group of 6, not 5, to come back were some of the hardest. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to shut down, lie on her bed and stare into the picture they had taken on their first date, Pixal knew that the team was entrusting her to keep Ninjago safe. Even if it means recapturing escaped convicts. Even if it means fighting the… undead-dead Preeminent (Pixal still hasn’t figured out how she worked). And they had to find ways to reach the Never Realm, by going through different infusions of travellers tea.
Yet, all the waiting and longing was worth it. Pixal prefers a Zane stuck in another realm for 40 years as to no Zane. There was no other choice. Yet, as she sees her loved ones trudging out of the frosty realm, some of them had worst frost bites than others. Even though all Pixal wanted to do was to smother Zane in a hug, she can see the edges of Lloyd’s skin turning a deep, dark black. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Nya taking care of Cole whilst Jay and Kai attempt to remove the ice from everyone else, including lubricating Zane’s frosted joins. She had not a single moment to lose. This kind of frostbite was not exactly lethal immediately, but losing limbs could mean the end of Lloyd’s ninja career. So calling everyone to attention, she went all in to salvaging Lloyd’s limbs, doing everything she could.
Later that night, Pixal spotted Zane wandering around the outskirts of the monastery whilst the Ninja finish up dinner. She watched as Zane’s hands gripped the staff so tight that the wood would be snapping in 3…2…1.
A harsh crack and splinters flying out later, Pixal could see the shaking in Zane’s hands as he cursed, something that the Zane she knew never would.
For her, it had been a hellish week. But for Zane? It must have been a hellish 40 years.
“…Zane?” Pixal called out from the monastery doors. Zane immediately whipped around before pointing the tip of the staff towards her, to which Pixal reflectively grabbed. Zane, eyes widening in shock and horror, immediately released his grip on the now shorter staff, before turning around, trying to run away. Pixal won’t let that happen.
“Zane,” Pixal said once again, hand now gripping onto the collar of Zane’s Gi. “Please don’t run away from me.”
Zane, froze, hands twitching before dropping them to his side. Pixal released her grip before tapping Zane on the shoulder, asking him to turn around.
“Pixal, I’m- I’m sorry…I just can’t- I can’t trust myself right now,” Zane vented out hands fidgeting with each other. Pixal smiled sadly. She knew that not everything could go back to normal so fast, but still, she had hoped that it would have been easier than this. “If you don’t trust yourself right now, why not spend some time with me?”
“Pixal- I…I could hurt you-“ “Yes you can, but don’t think that I can’t protect myself,” Pixal snapped back whilst carefully reaching to hold Zane’s hands. Once she made contact, Zane flinched back, before slowly reciprocating the action. “C’mon Zane, let’s go back into the monastery-“
“No!” Zane protested, wrenching Pixal back. Pixal clasped her other hand on top of Zane’s. “Not to the dining room. I’m thinking med bay.”
Pixal could see Zane’s processing unit cycle through his thoughts, noticing that it had considerable frost damage. Before long, Zane nodded his head, allowing Pixal to pull him into the light.
Opening the cupboards, Pixal took out a few rolls of bandages before carefully wrapping them around Zane’s hands. The ice ninja watched with curiosity as Pixal carefully finished tying and tightening the strips of cloth.
“Why are you doing this? You and I both know that Nindroids don’t need bandages,” Zane asked. Pixal smiled, looking at Zane’s now steadier hands. “Maybe bandages can’t fix our metal skin, but it still makes us feel better.”
Zane paused, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how you’re right PIx, but they do make me feel more sure that my powers won’t hurt anyone accidentally. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s get back to dinner, we have some desserts to bring out.”
Bandages. As much as PIxal uses them and finds them efficient, she can’t help but hope that team doesn’t need to use as many. But this time, t’s just a trip to a legendary city full of peace and prosperity. Maybe this time, Pixal doesn’t need to bandage their wounds away.
#ninjago#ninjago fanfiction#ninjago angst week#ninjago angst week 2021#ninjago pixal#pixal borg#ninjago zane#zane julien#ninjago lloyd#lloyd garmadon#ninjago kai#kai smith#ninjago jay#jay walker#ninjago nya#nya smith#ninjago cole#cole brookstone#ninjago borg#cyrus borg#ninjago cyrus borg#other minor characters not tagged#haha im so late
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≪ the love that wrecks, and the one that mends ≫
pairing: atsumu x reader x suna
genre: sfw, angst
warning/s: toxic relationship, implied sex, minor swearing, prolly contains typos & grammatical errors (didn’t proofread)
wc: 2.3k
His breaths are ragged, thoughts a jumble. It couldn’t be true, lies spread far too easily and he knew that. But still, just to be sure—not that he believed a word at all—he’ll ask you. You, his haven and comfort, the thick blanket to his coldest days and the warm embrace piercing through his isolation.
You, who filled his thoughts every night. What if he did this the next day or what if he had done that before bidding you goodbye after he walked you home? You, who had been there by his side all this time, he need not look to know that you’re there; you always will be. Through hurricanes of uncertainties and tides of pain, where every memory was precedented and followed by another misery for you both, you and him will not change.
“This isn’t gonna be the last time we’ll cry because of each other, right?”
His lips twitch up into a small smile as he tilts his head to the side, looking at you as if you were the prettiest sight. “Most likely not. Tell me, do ‘ya want it any other way though?”
Eyes seeing through you, he already knows your answer. You only shake your head, chuckling, “as if there is another way with you.”
That’s right, you can’t expect to have Atsumu in your life if you’re not willing to wet your pillow with tears before slumber, to break the rules—to lose yourself—to get hurt, to bleed, to yearn for more but accept the least. You can’t have it all, they say. Well, you always thought they were wrong.
With Atsumu, you had it all. The thrill, the pleasure, the pain—him, your breathtaking Atsumu who would utter the most painful words and whisper the sweetest apologies. He knew it too, you were willing to go through hell and back. You befriend your demons and say goodbye to the light, you easily do so, without the faintest doubt—if it means a few seconds of intertwined fingers, a glimpse of his loving eyes, an echo of his laughter, you don’t care, it’s enough, it should be.
But where the hell are you? You’re not at home, apparently you’re over at a friend’s place. He takes a moment to catch his breath as he arrives at his own home, exhausted, depressed and anxious. He could feel himself lose control of his thoughts, though he was only thinking of you.
You, who would call him at the most random of times ‘just because’ and you, who had not talked to him properly ever since the last fight you had which was roughly three months ago. What the fight was about, he couldn’t even remember, what he does recall is how you uttered the words goodbye, Atsumu and not your usual see you, ‘tsum.
“I thought we were watching a movie,” there’s the subtlest smile on his lips, dark orbs finally trained on you after he had looked away from the screen. “What I’m looking at is so much better though,” you whisper, intoxicated by his scent and his embrace.
“Really?” He asks, nonchalant but his tone dishonest. If anything, he wishes more than anything else for you to mean those words, yet it felt like they weren’t for him to hear. “Really.”
You’re an angel, badly hurt and wings clipped.
And it’s all okay. He’ll mend you and patch you up with what he could offer, though deep down he knows you still preferred pain than his solace. He’ll make you fly again, overlooking his true wishes that even with flight—even if you’ve healed enough to let Atsumu destroy you once more—you’ll pick him. It’s fine, he keeps reminding himself, even if you dive straight down to that hell again and abandon him.
In a millisecond of staring back at your eyes, he had thought over a million ways for you to actually see through him. Words will not do justice for how deeply he had fallen for you, not by a long shot, so please, “y/n, see me,” he whispers into his dark and silent room while you lay facing each other.
“I am looking at you, Rin,” you assure him, appreciatively running your fingers through his hair. Thank god for him, he’s a work of art.
“Then, do you know how much I love you?” He whispers, the agony of being someone who could only relieve your pain and not truly make you happy had his voice breaking and he hid it so well, but you heard, a tear already rolling down his cheek.
Your heart falls, watching more tears fall from his beautiful, kind eyes. The very eyes that had seen you at your worst, the very ones that you catch already staring at you from across the room.
“Y/n you said you see me, right?” He says, silent sobs forcing its way out of his throat and you pull him to yourself, peppering feather-like kisses on his skin and the heaven knows how far and desperately he truly wished that those kisses were out of love and not of pity.
“I see you.”
You don’t, he thought. You see a friend, a potential lover, a satisfactory replacement, it will always be Atsumu who’s rooted in the depths of your heart he could only dream of reaching.
“I love you Rin, you have no clue, and I do know how much you love me.” Of course you know, how could you not know when he kisses your forehead before he heads off to practice? when he races to your side the first thing in the morning and wordlessly holds your hand, when he tells you he loves you every single day and night, whether it’s through the phone, or in person when he thought you were asleep.
“But you wish he loved you this much instead of me,” he says, and as he’s always done, he puts you first and neglects his hurt, comforting you as you cry silent tears, pushing away the pain in his chest that’s commanding him to just breathe and let go.
He’d rather suffer alone than have you shed tears with him though, regretting to let you see him cry. Like the miracle of peace amidst chaos, his lips find their way to yours, drowning your sobs as his thumb swipes across your cheeks to wipe your tears away.
Your hearts beat faster, and he was wrong to think he was insignificant to you, because if anything, he was your world, your lifeline. Not just because he kissed, hugged, and comforted all your pain away, but because Suna is the only person you’ll love and forever choose to love like this, like words couldn’t describe, and numbers could not measure.
If your relationship with Atsumu was hell, you couldn’t even say Suna was heaven, not even close, heaven’s too flawed and unworthy to be compared to your lover. He’s just him, your cherished Suna Rintarou. The brunette you don’t have to break the rules for or cry over every other night, the gentle Suna who will never utter words he knows would hurt you, the beautiful Suna who with just a glimpse of him, all your troubles fade and love fills you.
It was when you loved Suna Rintarou, that you truly knew what love was like or what love was supposed to be—for you, that is. After months together, you discovered that love for you was listening to your shared playlist as you walk home together with your hand in his inside his pocket, love for you was barging into his room while he was still asleep and waking him up with a kiss, love for you was not hurting yourself over and over, love for you was loving more and more each day, and after loving Suna, love for you is him and him alone.
“Y/n?” The surprise is evident in his voice when you had pulled away only to glue your lips back together as you shift and now lay on top of him. He guiltily cannot peel his eyes away from you when you rid yourself of his hoodie, he had always known you were beautiful, it was common sense, he’d make it a law if need be, but tonight, he’s looking at you where his eyes had never seen or adored you yet before.
“Do you see me, Rin?” You whisper, and he draws his hand to the side of your face, his love for you painfully too overwhelming brought by your small act of kissing the inside of his wrist. He’s drunk from your affection, addicted to it. “I love you, only you, and it will always be you, okay? I’m sorry it took me a while to get to where I belong, to be here with you.”
That night, tears were spilt as your lips met, confessions were whispered as love was made, again and again until early hours of dawn, until your head lays on his bare chest and his arm securely encloses you to him, a smile on his lips as he listens to your even breaths.
Meanwhile, Atsumu suffered a sleepless, restless wake of dawn. It wasn’t confirmed to be true yet, but maybe it was because of the way he knew deep down that it is probable, and it made sense. Your love was toxic—unofficial even—while he had always been yours, he knew that he gave you one too many reasons to no longer be his.
Yes, he was yours as you lay together on your bed that one night, endless conversations and sincere smiles. But no, he was no longer yours when he left your place and called one of his girls, apologizing for not showing up.
He was yours, when he got jealous and possessive, claiming you his and holding you tightly close to him. But the moment you started asking for more again—for a relationship more certain—in his irritated eyes and discomforted language, in his small sigh and aversion of the topic, you knew once more that he isn’t and might never be yours.
He’ll change from now on, he says to himself as he swallows his pride and picks up his phone, pressing your contact starred favorite, a red heart at the end of your name. In the first ring he wishes you’ll pick up on the next, on the second he hoped you were just asleep, and when you didn’t pick up, he looks at himself in the mirror and wondered why tears had already graced his cheeks.
He calls again, you pick up on the second ring.
“Atsumu.”
As if the coldest wind breezed through him, a shiver runs down his spine and he could feel his throat dry. He couldn’t speak, refusing to accept that the person who picked up your phone is the very person he begged the universe you weren’t with right now.
“What?”
“Where is she?”
“She’s asleep, why would you even call at this hour.”
There was silence on the line, and from the other end of the call, Suna was sitting up, gazing at your peaceful features as he covers your exposed arm with the blanket that had slightly gone astray. He caresses your cheek gently with the back of his hand, as if the reminder of Atsumu had him on guard with you, instincts kicking in as he wanted to make sure you feel loved and safe with him even though you were asleep.
“Then are ya really… Ya aren’t right? Y’know y/n’s mine.”
Just like that, Suna’s eyes drop cold, his hand leaving the side of your face. “We’re going out, I wouldn’t really consider the things we’ve done together platonic.”
Before he could respond he hears your voice, from the sound of it—after having heard it a thousand times when he used to stay over at yours—you just woke up, he bets you were barely even awake at all.
“Rin? C’mere,” you mumble.
The sound of the mattress shifting and the fluffing of pillows as you sit up and snuggle into Suna’s chest left him a lot to imagine. Despite the wreck it was all making inside his head, he couldn’t even bring himself to end the call.
Suna had already abandoned your phone, presuming it had already ended as he diverts his full attention to you, looking down affectionately with love behind his dark eyes.
“Did I wake you?” He says in a small voice, yet the kiss he planted atop your head was something Atsumu could still hear, fingers shaking as his grip tightens on his phone.
“’sokay, let me just sleep here,” you smile, kissing the crook of his neck as you close your eyes once more, already feeling yourself succumb to slumber. This was peaceful, your heart had never felt this in tuned with someone else’s, yet here in his dark room, under the warmth of his covers and the serenity of his bare body against yours, you knew you had finally wound up to where you belong.
“Rin?”
He hums in response, tracing his hand across your back as he too starts to fall asleep in your embrace.
“I love you.”
Those words meant the world to one and torment to the other.
“I love you, ‘Tsum! You fucking know that! And if you don’t want to let me go, why can’t you just love me too?”
“Are ya sayin I don’t love ya?”
“Then do you?”
Like every fight wherein you had him cornered, he left you unanswered that night. He bitterly smiles, regretful and anguished. With four last words before hanging up the phone, he welcomes the pain of his loss, the loss he knew was coming because he just couldn’t treat you right.
“I love you, y/n.”
#haikyuu!! x reader#suna x reader#atsumu x reader#haikyuu!! scenarios#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu!! x you#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#atsumu miya#Suna Rintarou#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu!!#hq
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Intrulogical Week: Day 2 (Science/Art)
For @intrulogicalweek2021
Art of the Heart
Ao3 || 1276 words || qpr intrulogical
Summary: Remus loved to create. Logan did not. Remus shows Logan how much he loves his creativity.
Warnings: swearing
Read here!
Remus’ favourite thing to do was create.
No matter what it was. Paintings, sculptures, stories, pictures, creatures, whatever it was, Remus enjoyed it. Of course, Roman loved all those things as well, further cementing how similar the two were. But neither of them enjoyed thinking about that.
Logan's least favourite thing to do was create.
His area of expertise was things that were known. Things that were facts. He could tell you the history of a specific art form, tell you techniques that helped improve it, but every time he attempted to create any sort of art, it always came out looking...wrong. Not wrong in the way Remus' were, where something was just off enough that you could tell, but not enough to tell what it was. His creations were just objectively bad.
Remus didn't think that at all about his partner's art, but he wasn't sure how to get him to believe that. So, he made a plan.
During each of their weekly hangouts as a duo, they would take turns picking an activity for them both to do. Previous activities ranged from stargazing, to making explosives, to playing video games together. This week was Remus' turn, and he intended to use it well.
Right at 7pm on the dot, Remus heard a knock on his door. Opening it, he was greeted by the sight of his partner, smiling softly at him.
"Salutations, Rem."
"Oh get in here, you nerd."
After Logan stepped in the room, Remus immediately shut the door and spun around to face him.
“Ready for tonight, Lo?”
“Of course. What is it you have chosen for tonight?”
Remus gave him a sly smile. “You’ll see.”
With a snap, the two were transferred from Remus’ room to what looked like an art studio. It was messy, supplies crowding tables and floor alike, canvases leaning anywhere there was room. The walls were covered in murals and graffiti, forming beautiful but haunting images that were not easily forgotten. Finally, in the center of the room: two untouched easels and canvases, back to back from each other, and paints and brushes on the accompanying tables. Logan stared at the room in poorly disguised awe, as Remus bounced excitedly next to him.
“Remus this is...satisfactory.”
“Come on, nerdy wolverine! This place is pretty fucking cool, and we both know it!”
“...alright. It is, as you put it, ‘pretty fucking cool’.”
“Aw, I knew you loved me!”
“...I can not argue with those facts.”
After clearing his throat for a moment, Logan continued.
“Now, what exactly are we doing here?”
“Oh, right, I nearly forgot. Whoopsie!”
Remus dragged his partner over to the blank canvases, smiling broadly.
“Tonight, we’re gonna paint for each other! Whatever you want, no limits, just pure creating. Whaddya think?” He waited, anticipating Logan’s answer.
After a moment of hesitation, he nodded, and Remus sighed with relief.
“Well, get to work!”
And so, they began.
~
After a couple hours, Remus stepped back from his canvas. He had worked hard on this piece. Sure, it wasn’t one of his more...extravagant pieces, but it was for Logan, and he knew Logan would appreciate it.
On the canvas, a galaxy stared back at him. Blues and blacks and purples all swirled together to create space, while planets and stars were added with their bright colours of rock and gas. He had tried to keep everything as accurate as possible for Logan’s sake-he had been the one to teach him about space after all-but he allowed himself some creative liberties. After examining his creation for a moment, he snapped his fingers. There was still one tiny touch he needed to add. He flourished his hands dramatically, and sat back to watch the magic happen.
Slowly, the paint began to move on its own, swirling together, creating an almost glittery sort of look. The stars seemed to actually shine, the planets seemed to actually rotate around themselves, the colours changing slightly as they moved. The painting felt alive, as if it was a living, breathing, thing. Remus had always been good at adding little touches like this to his work.
He glanced over at his partner, seeing him still working. Feeling eyes on him, Logan looked up, meeting Remus’ eyes.
“Have you already finished, Rem?”
“Yep! How about you?”
Logan looked down at his painting for a minute. “I’m afraid I have not completed it yet, apologies.”
“No problem! I’ve had tons of practice, so it makes sense for me to finish first.”
“Correct. May I see what you've done?"
"Of course, Lo!"
He walked over and gasped in surprise when he saw the painting.
"Oh my, that is...satisfactory, Remus."
"Aww, I love you too, Lo!"
Logan blushed slightly, and Remus' grin grew.
"Hey nerd, can I see yours? Even if it's not done?"
"Of course, Re, though I'd have to warn you it isn't very good. Especially compared to something as magnificent as this. Objectively speaking, of course."
"Hey, I'm sure it's amazing. After all, you made it."
Remus walked around to Logans canvas and stared.
The painting was of an octopus. It was relatively simple, orange with bulging yellow eyes. Its tentacles floated around it, the suctions attached. A blue background of the deep sea was behind it, as the octopi rested on the seafloor. Remus noticed small things immediately, how it lacked the level of depth that his own did, or how the colours weren’t blended as perfectly as they could be.
He loved it.
“Lo! You never told me you were an artist!” He gasped dramatically. Sure, he was being a little over the top, but come on, he was creativity for drawing’s sake!
Logan adjusted his glasses as he spoke coldly, “There is no need to patronize me, Remus.”
Remus deflated a bit. He didn’t want his partner to think he was mocking him. He quickly reassured him.
“No Lo, I love it. Really.” He smiled, but Logan didn’t smile back.
“Remus, really. I mean, look at what you’ve done! It’s magnificent! And mine is...painfully mediocre.” He continued to look forward, but his posture sagged slightly, letting Remus know how upset he really was.
“Lo, it’s perfect because you made it. I, frankly, don’t give a damn about the technique or accuracy or anything else. All that matters is that you, my delightful dork, created this, and that’s enough to make me love it.”
“I...thank you, Remus,” Logan adjusted his glasses again, voice wobbling slightly. Remus chose not to comment on that, “that means a lot.”
“Oh, come here you nerd.”
~
Remus’ favourite thing to do was create.
No matter what it was. Paintings, sculptures, stories, pictures, creatures, whatever it was, Remus enjoyed it. But, his absolute favourite thing to do was create with Logan.
Logan's least favourite thing to do was create.
His area of expertise was things that were known. Things that were facts. He could tell you the history of a specific art form, tell you techniques that helped improve it, but every time he attempted to create any sort of art, it always came out looking...wrong. But, when he and Remus went to their studio, making art for one another of all different kinds, he began to not find his art so awful all the time. Remus helped change his perspective on it, and made him begin to enjoy it.
“Maybe,” he would say one day to his partner as they sat in the studio, mirroring their positions of their first time there, painting for one another, “maybe art isn’t so bad. When it’s with you, at least.”
And Remus would smile.
#fanfic#ao3#fanfiction#writing#archive of our own#my fics#sanders sides#logan sanders#remus sanders#intrulogicalweek2021#intrulogical#science/art#day 2#art of the heart
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Kazuichi Souda Headcanons
{@sally-wonders} (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻ I JUST SAW THE DANGANRONPA STUFF AND I AM SCREAMING! dlsfhlfhksg I dont even know where to start, so, at first I was wondering if you have any headcanons for my man Kazuichi, I love him so much! I always wondered how he would be into an actually relationship, because the inflatuation he had with Sonia was a thing, but also serving to compensate in his low self steam, even if he was an ultimate, he also has the historic of abuse and bully by their piers and all with the sharp teeth and pink hair to try and look cool and all that as well, also he would have to deal with all that happened in dispair island (what wouldnt i give to know how they dealt with that man :'3), especially acepting the fact that Sônia does not like him. Because of the whole dream girl with blonde hair and he kinda projects this idea of her instead of herself. Jqrjjgwrj sorry I babble a lot hehe
I hope you enjoy this long list of a variety of headcanons. These may not hit all of the points you were asking, but I hope this is satisfactory!
・・・・✪General Headcanons✪ ・・・・
Kazuichi is a very anxious person so he is constantly fiddling with something. Little electronics, his wrench or tools he has on hands, or his fingers. If he can’t mess with something, his anxiety goes through the roof.
He can read in English! He taught himself how to read English so he could read American comic books before they’re officially translated. He also can understand English since he watched so many English action movies. He can speak it, but it can be broken and his accent is very strong.
He can actually sew. Since he learned by watching his mom, he can fix and alter clothing. He can also sew and throw together blankets and stuffed animals. He actually owns a small sewing machine. It isn’t expensive or amazing by any means, but it can get the job done.
He spends a large chunk of his money on keeping up with his hair and keeping his contacts in check. His hair grows extremely fast so his roots show, and he has a horrible habit of sleeping in his contacts since he can’t stand his glasses.
When you catch him off guard, he just lies about what he is doing. He doesn’t mean to, but it is just a natural reaction since his dad would get mad at him no matter what his answer was. Because of this, you have to give him a moment to calm down and go through the 3 different answers he has before he can actually say what’s going on. This also happens if he is on his computer or his phone. He naturally hides the screen, even if he is just looking at car parts or how to fix a certain thing.
He can be a bit perverted and oblivious to somebody's flaws if he finds himself becoming attracted to them. Despite this, he is honestly quite the sweetheart and would have a heart attack if somebody were to return his feelings.
He has pretty bad trust issues and this can cause tension between him and others. This also causes him to believe things that aren’t always true based off of his distrust alone.
He doesn’t actually like his appearance, even after he changed it. He originally changed it to keep away bullies and get the attention of women, but when he looks in the mirror, he doesn’t exactly like it. He didn’t mind his black hair or his normal eye color, he just hated his glasses.
Will flinch if someone raises their hand at him because of his fathers past abuse. He can’t help but flinch, and this is horrible with men who are taller than him. Safe to say that Gundhams mannerisms and weird poses aren't appreciated.
・・・・✪Relationship Headcanons✪ ・・・・
As stated before if someone were to return his feelings, he would be so lost on what to do. He never had anybody treat him with much kindness and the fact that someone he admires likes him back is just mind boggling to him.
I headcanon him personally to be Bisexual. He may have a physical lea for women, but he does find himself genuinely attracted to men as well (@Hajime) I think the big thing that decides if he likes you or not is if he thinks he can trust you.
Due to the past abuse and issues regarding friends and classmates, he would need constant reassurance. He will have sudden doubts and will become extremely anxious at the idea of you leaving him for a variety of reasons. He will ask if you want him to change his appearance or something about his personality, and it never fails that he is shocked if you say you love how he is.
He can sometimes get lost in his childlike fantasies. He will change his personality at times and make himself believe things that aren’t true. The best thing to do when this happens is to just give him a quick kiss on the cheek and remind him that you are you, and not some fantasy. He will apologize and snap out of it (For the most part)
He isn’t the best at initiating things. He would do better with someone who is more willing to make the first move. Be the one to grab his hand to hold it, Open your arms so he can snuggle against your chest, Cup his cheeks to pull him into a sweet kiss, Open the door for him and press your hand against his lower back in public areas so he feels more calm. He really would appreciate it.
Some of his favorite dates are the ones that result in tons of affection. Building blanket forts before having an action movie marathon is his favorite thing. It always results in the two of you tangled impossibly close to each other. If he is the one being held, having you play with the messily chopped locks instantly has him weak. He will rest against your chest while watching the movies, looking up to steal kisses and nip at your exposed skin in an attempt to steal your attention away from the screen. If he is the one holding you, your hair will be played with and expect him to caress your body a lot. If he gets distracted from the movie, he will let his eyes and hands wonder. It’s not in a perverse way, but more curious.
He actually studies how your body moves and how you feel. He is the kind of guy who is very interested in seeing how your “Parts” move and how things work. It’s not perverted (Usually) but instead it’s very sweet in an unusual way. He will find out unusual things he loves about you by watching how you move. Like how you stretch to reach things on a tall shelf, or how your body curls up into itself when your cold. Just how you move and your body language is something that always has Kazuichi staring.
If he can’t be with you physically, expect many phone calls and video calls. He calls you every time he misses your voice or feels himself starting to get anxious. The most common phone calls become the ones that happen before bed. Kazuichi gets extremely anxious when he is alone or at his house with his dad. Because of this, it becomes a routine where he calls you before bed and falls asleep on the phone with you. If you love to sing, sing and play instruments on the phone to soothe him. If you like to read, read to him until you hear his soft snores on the other line. If you like to ramble, ramble to him as he hums along til he is asleep.
Also don’t hang up. Seriously, he will hang up in the morning. If he has a nightmare, or something happens, he finds comfort knowing that you are right there when he needs you most.
He doesn’t mind chasing after you, but please let him have something so he knows that all of the chasing is worth it. This is the man you go to if you want somebody to control. He just wants your love and attention, even if you are just using him. If he falls for you during the killing game, he won’t hesitate to kill for you.
・・・・✪NSFW Headcanons✪ ・・・・
Aged 18+ and Kink discussion below this post
Souda loves to leave hickeys and love bites. He thinks they’re so sexy and attractive, and will leave them all over you if you let him. He also ADORES having you mark all over him and will whine if you tease him by pulling away before a mark can be made. If you really want to make him feel loved, make heart shaped hickeys all over him. He will cry because he feels so loved.
He is a switch with a more submissive lean, but he does have his more dominant moments. If he is being submissive, expect him to whine and cry about things a lot. He can be a total brat, but its so worth it when you get to hear him moan and beg for more. He may not scream, but he is quite loud.. If he is being dominant, he growls and groans a lot. He doesn’t mean to, he just gets so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t even notice the noises he makes.
He has ended up with you in his lap in his car a few times. He just can’t help it. The most memorable time was at the drive in theater. You both were in the back and it just ended up with your hands being bound by a seat belt as he sat between your legs until he couldn’t handle waiting anymore.
He CLEARLY is into body worship. He loves watching how you react as his hands sit and press themselves against your body. He will compliment absolutely everything about you, kissing your skin as much as possible, and let his hands and eyes do all of the work.
He is so into oral, both giving and receiving. He can sit between your legs pleasing you until you are shaking and can’t handle anymore. Just how you taste is so intoxicating with him, and he always is trying to get more. If you are sucking him off, he will pant and moan and whine the whole time. His hand is tangled in your hair or the sheets until he can’t take it any more and cums. If you swallow, he will be so turned on, but he also loves cumming on you
Kazuichi will hump and grind against anything. Your ass, your thighs, a pillow, clothing, the bed, anything. He has a high sex drive, so he has to take care of it often. Even when he is sleeping, he will grind against you if he is having a dirty dream. Hopefully you don’t mind, because he is actually quite embarrassed when this happens.
He has a fantasy of you waking him up with oral. He has quite a few dirty dreams, so the idea of you helping him out while he wakes up is a dream for him.
Praise kink. Seriously. Praise this man. He will CRY if you constantly praise him during sex. He was completely unaware of how much it would effect him during sex.
#kazuichi#kazuichi souda#souda x reader#kazuichi souda x reader#Kazuichi x reader#Danganronpa#danganronpa kazuichi#Danganronpa Imagine#Danganronpa x reader#danganronpa headcanons#Kazuichi headcanons#Kazuichi souda headcanons#sdr2#sdr2 kazuichi#sdr2 x reader#sdr2 imagines#sdr2 headcanons#N/sfw#Kazuichi n/sfw
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The Wilds [5/?]
Summary: After a bitter divorce, you seek solace in the wilds of Alaska. Unbeknownst to you, it’ll change you in ways you could have never imagined.
Warnings: More sadness, some anxiety.
Notes: Uh, hi? Please don’t kill me for the absolute nosedive I took with this story. I had some personal issues in my life (false alarms, thank god) that hit a little too close to both the content of this story and some personal experiences, so I had to take a step back. Please enjoy this next chapter where we’ll learn a bit more about Bucky! x
Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist
The lake doesn’t feel so peaceful despite the quietness along the water, which matches your mood. Turbulent, unsettled, marred by rolling whitecaps as a result of the slightly rough breeze. It’s cool today, and as you sit by the water, you try and let the wind carry your uneasiness away. You’ve been doing good, so good, and as if he could hear it, Shawn had to make his reappearance. You’d known he would - he couldn’t let you sit for too long. Had to reassert himself, had to reassert his control.
Control you’re fighting like hell to regain and keep.
He’d called to taunt you, to remind you that he was moving on, happy. Flaunted it in your face by talking about their upcoming wedding. The wedding you did have, only bigger, better, with even more flowers and the best money could buy.
You felt pathetic, irritated that you’d had no confident words to spew at him for his games, and you’re embarrassed by the fact that you’d cried after hanging up the phone. Halfway through another sentence comparing you to Lizzie, and you’d had enough, pulling the phone away and slamming the End Call button as hard as you could. It wasn’t very satisfactory - the effect lost on the development of touchscreen phones.
As you sit by the lake, wind rustling the trees and your hair, blowing it around your face, you allow yourself some small victory - you hung up on him, stopped his attempts to bait you in their tracks, regained some control. It’s a small step, but a step forward all the same, and that little bit of optimism, sun through the clouds, brings a small smile to your dampened face.
Your therapist will be proud when you tell her, admit how much relief you feel just from the minute act of hanging up the phone. Eventually, you’re sure, you’ll stop picking up if or when he calls again to torment you. You can take back control.
Fall’s approaching. There’s a sharpness to the air now that signals the approaching end of summer, and some of the maple trees have begun to turn bronze. Alaska is pretty like this - one season fading into another and for a minute, you don’t ever want to leave. But then you remember that you should find a job, stop living off of Shawn’s money despite the alimony you’re sure to receive. Maybe you’ll settle some place like Alaska, open and free, without the constraints of a city. Somewhere there’s fresh air, but still society close enough should you need human interaction.
For now, you let yourself absorb what the wilderness has to offer.
Until your quiet reverie is interrupted by frantic barking some time later. You know only one person with a dog within living distance of you, and despite your instincts to brush it off, you’re overcome with the need to investigate.
Natalia finds you first, dark fur standing out against the green of the forest foliage. She winds herself around your feet, nips gently at your pant legs, grabs hold of your sleeve and tugs.
“What is it, girl?” you ask, and she barks again as she lets you go, tears off into the trees.
Without question you follow her, dodging in and out. She doubles back a few times, makes sure you’re still behind her. She leads you past the path back to your cabin, past the waterfall where you first met Bucky.
Bucky.
Oh god, what if something bad has happened? Unbidden, your heart clenches tight in your chest, cuts off your air as you run to keep pace with Natalia. You’re not even sure why - you hardly know Bucky but you’re worried regardless.
You nearly eat dirt and leaves as your foot catches on a raised root, but you quickly find your balance and push on. Breath coming harshly, you stomp down the painful stitch in your side.
Natalia dashes up the steps to a cabin similar to yours, though smaller. Quainter. The front door is open, leading you to believe she’d forced it open in an effort to find help. Or Bucky just left his front door open for the hell of it. Either way, you don’t think twice about running inside.
The lights are off, and despite the sunlight, you can hardly see a thing. Natalia’s nails click on the floor as she runs down the hall, barks three times from another room, and you do your best to follow it, feel your way across the cabin’s small space, stub your toe on a corner of a wall. Grimacing, you skim your hand along the wall until it meets the wood of a door frame.
“Bucky?” you call into the room, where you can hear Natalia panting and whining lowly. You squint in the dull lighting, barely making out a shape hunched on the floor beside the bed.
“‘M here,” he answers, voice low and monotone - empty. It twists your heart painfully, face tugging into a look of concern, and you approach slowly.
“Are you okay? Natalia found me…” you offer by way of explanation. In the dark, you see Bucky duck his head, hear his heavy sigh.
“I’m...I’m okay. You don’t have to worry.”
Lips pursing at that, you lower slowly to your knees in front of him. His eyes glitter in the dark where they’re focused on his knees, bent and hugged to his chest. Carefully you lay a hand on his arm, and you feel his body go rigid. Beneath your palm, his forearm is hard and unyielding. He shifts it out from under you, tucking it close to his body, shielding it, lets your hand drop to his knee.
“Bucky, what happened? Why are you in the dark?” Your voice feels loud in the still silence, against the quiet breaths of the man in front of you. Breaths when you really listen to them, quicken, shorten. Your fingers curl into his knee. “Hey, Bucky, you’re okay. Deep breaths okay?”
His breathing slows again, and you can feel him relax a little. Piece by piece, inch by inch, he unfurls his body until he’s a little more open, a little more spread out. You sit back on your heels, give him a little more room.
“S-Sorry,” he whispers, and in the dimness you see him drag a hand down his face.
“It’s okay.” He moves as you speak, rises to his feet to flick on the bedside lamp. Soft orange throws deep blue shadows across his walls, and you forego examining his room to scrutinize him instead.
He looks...rough. Deep circles under his eyes, a haunted look within them that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. His hands are buried in his sweatshirt pocket, shoulders hunched in a way that suggests he’s trying to hide. You stand as well, rethink reaching out for him. You don’t know him that well, despite the way his obvious struggle tugs at your heart.
“Can I make you some tea? Or fix you a drink?”
Bucky looks like he’s ready to decline, mouth opening to do so as the wall goes up behind his eyes, but he closes it. Nods, just once. Follows you out into the living room, flicking on the lights as he goes. The inside of his home is no surprise to you - mostly empty, save for a couple personal trinkets here and there. Otherwise, no decor on the walls, a tattered rug in front of the fireplace, no other signs that this is his home.
It saddens you for reasons you’re unsure of, but you let it go for now and busy yourself with filling the kettle. Bucky takes down two mugs and then reaches above the fridge, takes down a bottle of amber liquor that’s about a quarter full. He upends it into his mug, takes a long sip of it and avoids your curious gaze.
When the kettle whistles, you fill both mugs, regardless of the alcohol still in Bucky’s. He drops a tea bag into it and lets it steep, gestures to the living room where a ratty couch sits. You sit at the far end, opt to give Bucky some space to clear his head, but to your surprise he sits close to you, close enough that his thigh brushes yours.
“‘M sorry you had to see that. That Natalia bothered you,” he says gruffly after some time. The dog looks up at the sound of her name, tilting her head curiously.
You shake yours, fingers warm from your mug of tea. “She didn’t. I’m actually...glad she found me. She seemed really riled up.”
His smile is tight, uncomfortable, and he shifts on the couch. “She’s really in tune to my….to me.”
It isn’t the whole truth, but you don’t push. Sip from your tea and busy yourself by looking around the room. Now that you’re not overcome with worry for Bucky, you can look a little more closely. The fireplace is covered in soot, a half-burnt log inside it. The paint is chipping in places on the wall above the mantel.
In the center of it is a single photograph. You can’t make out the faces too clearly, but there are four of them in the photo - three men, one woman. You avert your eyes lest you stare too long, but Bucky’s noticed. His shoulders are stiff and there’s a pinch to his lips as he stares hard at the photograph. Awkwardly you sit and drink your tea until the mug is empty.
You ask before you can think about it: “Why were you sitting in the dark?”
Bucky’s breathing hitches, and you grimace, an apology on your tongue. But before you can utter it, he simply says, “I get panic attacks. I had a bad one and...and that’s why Natalia found you.”
Again, he keeps it short, speaking quickly - there’s more he isn’t telling you, but you daren’t push. He’s still skittish, erratic, eyes bouncing around the apartment only to settle on that photograph again for a moment. It clearly holds significance for him, if the way his eyes strain just slightly when he focuses on it, the shadow that seems to pass over his face.
It spreads throughout the room, darkening it despite the lights he’d turned on earlier. Obviously his mood is souring again, and you feel awkward, your skin itching with the urge to get away - back to your cabin where you can fret and overthink in peace. The phone call with Shawn left you on edge, a raw nerve ripe for irritation, and Bucky’s stony, less-than-pleasant demeanor is rapidly putting you off.
He must sense your rising panic, because he looks over at you, the tension in his face softening just a bit to something more somber, something sadder.
“I’m sorry I’m making you uncomfortable,” he utters, taking you mildly by surprise. He rubs at his forehead and drops his eyes - a truly pitiful look rife with self-loathing. It breaks your heart.
“N-No,” you argue, and he gives you a skeptical look. “I understand. I understand really well actually. Um, my, um...my ex...he called me, after you left yesterday. It, uh, it threw me for a bit of a loop. My head’s a little all over the place.”
It’s the most you’ve ever given him about your history, about your struggle, and you can see his face softening, an invitation for you to open up more. But your tongue feels heavy enough after giving even as little information as you have, and you stay quiet, pick at a seam in your jeans idly.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, but this time he isn’t talking about his panic attack or pulling you from whatever you’d been doing. He’s apologizing that your ex still seems to have a hold over you.
If only he knew.
He could, a small, quiet voice chirps in the back of your head. Its presence stills you as Bucky’s gaze burns the side of your face while he watches you. He could if you let him in.
God, how you want to. Despite the terror you feel at getting close to another person, you feel that tug in your heart - the one you felt for Shawn when you first met him. The desire to experience that intimacy with another person, it both thrills you and frightens you. Frightens you so badly you still feel that urge to run.
“I’m okay, if you’d like to leave,” Bucky says, and he says it with a gentle smile. His eyes, though, are tinged with sadness at the thought of you leaving - and you don’t know what to do. He knows you’re uncomfortable and he’s giving you an out.
Do you really want to take it?
Sensing your struggle, Bucky stands up, extends a hand. “How about a walk? Fresh air might do us both some good.”
You eye his hand warily, flickering between it and his face - open, completely readable. He wants you to say yes, but he won’t make you.
That flutter in your heart again at his patience, it’s all the resolve you need.
You take his hand.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky x reader#the wilds#lumberjack!bucky#bucky au#lumberjack au#bucky barnes angst
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Hopefully you're still taking asks lol, I believe in captive prince that Laurent has Damen raped at one point and that it's not ever really resolved? Which leads to the romance seeming unrealistic, correct me if I'm wrong, the author tried to resolve this problem in the 4th book but it wasnt satisfactory? What, in your opinion, made the attempt in the 4th book not convincing? And what do you think would have been a better way to try and have them resolve this issue?
*i’m posting this in the main tag bc i want to engage more with the capri fandom and find mutuals. if you don’t want to see these characters criticized and discussed do yourself a favor and don’t read this
how can you “resolve” rape? i don’t think there is a way for a character who committed it to come back from that in a way acceptable to all readers. no matter how much they repent, develop and atone for their actions they will still remain a person who commited rape. so the real question is not whether it can be resolved and how, but whether it can be forgiven (or whether you can still appreciate this character despite it) - and that is the question every reader has to answer for themselves and there are no wrong or right answers. obviously lots of readers sympathize with laurent at the end of the story and choose, consciously or not, to forgive what he did in book one. many others just can’t look past what he did and so the grand romantic ending rings hollow to them bc they see it as a victim getting together with their abuser.
on damen’s part pacat consistently chose the path of forgiveness: he is somewhat mad at laurent in the beginning but becomes gradually less so as he gets to know him better and by the time he knows he’s in love with him forgiveness isn’t even a question - it already happened behind the scenes. that is probably one of the main differences between laurent and damen: while laurent is someone whose entire personality, motivation and character arc are founded on holding a grudge and never letting go, for damen forgiveness occurs just naturally as if offence and trauma were a bruise gradually fading without leaving any mark.
this difference and how it plays out in the last book is actually something that made the ending feel unsatisfying for me - not the fact that the rape was “not resolved”. in the first half of kings rising laurent has to confront his own cognitive dissonance about having fallen in love with his nemesis and he indeed has lots of inner turmoil until he just doesn’t. obviously in order for the romance to work he had to let go of his hatred for “damianos the princekiller” but for such a resentful unforgiving character something had to happen in order to make this change of heart look plausible and authentic. i’m not a writer so i have no idea what that should’ve been exactly, but it should’ve definitely been something that ties in with both of their character arcs. what we had instead was a freaking baby - a bad plot device if i ever saw one. as for damen, the romance plot resolution on his part was much more consequential than on laurent’s - but only bc pacat chose to write no inner conflict for him. damen is not conflicted about falling in love with laurent - at least not to the extent you’d expect from a person who went through everything laurent did to damen. that is a choice which is definitely in character for his personality and is realistic insofar as there are lots of people who forget and forgive rather quickly, but which can also be perceived as problematic or simply narratively unsatisfying. as for the former i personally don’t think that capri romanticizes abuse - all of it, including rape, is definitely framed as something bad - and as for the latter, i have to agree that being not mad enough at laurent definitely makes damen a less interesting character. the reason why i love dark enemies to lovers stories like capri is bc i’m curious about how the characters will resolve what seems to be an insurmountable conflict (”you killed my beloved brother which ruined my life” - “you had me raped”) - so i lose interest when there’s no conflict to resolve or when it just goes away bc characters are in love now or bc they “have it in their heart to forgive” or something. however, i admit that i don’t know which way of resolution would be more satisfying.
laurent is also made to atone for his actions and redeem himself in the form of grand and stupid self-sacrifice which is a culmination of his personality gradually changing to being nice and companionable (and stupid) throughout the last book. other than that, in the epilogue short story (the summer palace) he is shown to regret his past actions towards damen to which damen says something like “we both did bad things but it doesn’t matter now cause we’re together and we know we won’t do them again”. these are pacat’s attempts at laurent’s redemption arc which ring hollow to some readers - either bc they are perceived as “not enough” or as “not necessary”. i suppose those in the first camp either deem laurent irredeemable period or they think that he should’ve done something more convincing or apologized (idk how that would work but apparently it’s very important for some people to hear a verbal apology even if it doesn’t change anything). as you can guess, i’m in the second camp - i think that having laurent suddenly become reckless in attempts to redeem himself is a disservice to his character arc and frankly speaking not necessary, seeing as damen has forgiven him regardless.
ultimately, i’m a character-driven reader who is also aroace so when i pick up a romance i’m interested in who the characters are, why they are drawn to each other and how they overcome the obstacles to their relationship which is why i am left dissatisfied if in order for romance to be endgame the characters sacrifice who they are, or if i don’t understand why they like each other or if the obstacles just fall down when needed. i feel like with capri everything was very engaging and complex for 2,5 books (which really makes this series stand out from among similar dark romances) but in the last half of book 3 things go awry. “rape not being resolved” is just a small part of that.
#captive prince#damen of akielos#laurent of vere#kings rising#capri mine#asks#somehow writing capri meta is much more difficult than writing aftg meta#i start answering the questions and then my thoughts just scatter and in the end you get this post#clear and concise answers? not on this blog#if there are consistensy issues between this and my older posts this is bc my opinions are constantly evolving#also i'm currently doing my third re-read so i think about capri a lot#just started book two yesterday#i'm about to get to the best parts
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I adore the idea of Ruv & Sarv together both platonically and romantically, and that goes double for Whitty & Carol, but I’m also a piece-of-trash multi-shipper with a strong lean towards fluff.
Heads up: no ideas are my own — the inspiration came from this. >v<; I just wanted to shake off some dust and enjoy what I thought was a sweet concept.
My silly rambles are below the cut if you’re interested, but I’m super awkward and will go hide now.
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I was a bit conflicted about posting art of these two, as from what I’ve read, drama following the mods ruined these guys+ for their respective creators but I keep up on some tags out of curiosity, and seeing the post linked above made me want to try something that condensed most of their ideas. I'm a sucker for anything soft and wholesome.
While I did visual research for the characters, dinghies and an intentional + aesthetically-appropriate design for Ruv based on a few species of cold-water [comb] jellies, I had no idea/was-too-stubborn-to-further-research how to draw [jellyfish] sirens or how to handle the lighting effects for a pic like this — and it shows.
Finally: GEEBUS, I don’t know if this is even worth sharing, but as prep, I did sketch a rough concept of siren!Ruv based on visual research. I have no idea if I’ll try to polish this concept, as while Jellies are often inherently frilly, it seems painfully out-of-place for him. @v@
Update: I wrote a silly ficlet to follow up this pic. I’ll hide it here, rather than put it on display in a fresh post. =v=; Apologies for address-repetition, rambling, and the obliviousness trope but if anyone actually likes it, sweetness.
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Whitty kept his eyes on the stars, of which there was no shortage out here. Beyond the light, passing swells, he'd heard the gentle splashing against the boat, and felt something slippery and mitten-like wrap around his shoe. His foot twitched, but he didn't pull away. He knew who it was; after, all, they'd agreed to meet here... in this general area. The open ocean provided few landmarks, but they'd settled on a few miles northeast of the dock Whitty always started from.
It was still really, really strange. He was getting better about trusting the siren, but jellyfish are jellyfish, and he was in no hurry to be stung, accidentally or otherwise. Without moving, he chanced a glimpse to the other end of the boat — Ruv was looking down at something. The sentient bomb heard a gravelly shift — oh... more "treasures".
Lately, the gelatinous merman had been in the odd habit of bringing stones and coral fragments with him, and this time, he'd brought a bucketful. Whitty stifled a hissing chuckle at what he could now tell was bright green plastic. Ruv must have taken some child's beach toy from somewhere. The only thing he didn't really get was why.
Ruv wasn't much of a talker, and was stone-faced as they came. All the bomb-man could tell was that the siren seemed to bring these things for him... and the slight glow of his bioluminescence flared every time Whitty looked at him or said so much as a word. And today, he was ALIGHT. Whitty tensed as he felt Ruv squeeze his shoe tighter... was this in his head, or did the siren look nervous?
Carefully, Ruv lifted the bucket out of the water completely, over the edge and placed it squarely on the floor of the dinghy by Whitty's outstretched leg... and stared. At Whitty. In the glowing, ember-y eyes. Inky drops of "sweat" seeped through the sphere of his head and dripped back down to the fuse... an anxious laugh tumbled between his teeth set in a forced smile.
"Thanks, man." He finally managed to say, glancing briefly at the bucket before looking back at Ruv, who hadn't moved, save for the lightest lapping against the underside of the boat, to keep his balance and place. Whitty usually didn't mind the stargazing, but then, it had never been this quiet or... intensely awkward. You're making it weird, man. Whitty thought to himself worriedly, but gave it a few seconds.
Things did not get better. Silent as before, Ruv's behaviour drastically shifted once more. The glow faded, he sank out of Whitty's view, and the grip on his shoe loosened before disappearing completely. Just slightly alarmed, Whitty planted most of his weight in the middle of the small boat, before stretching his neck to look out over the edge — the siren was still there, face half-submerged and, by the angle of the lone, now-barely luminous eye, not quite facing the boat. With just a crescent moon to light the seascape, Whitty was relieved to see anything... if the glow had wholly vanished, he would have been impossible to distinguish from the water.
"... what did I do, now?" Whitty sighed, trying not to sound too annoyed. He was certainly intrigued by the merman, he wouldn't keep coming back to visit otherwise. They could probably be really good friends if Ruv would actually communicate. But he didn't. He always kept Whitty wondering, and the bomb hated that. He hated not knowing what to expect.
When Ruv stayed silent and with his back to the dinghy, Whitty huffed quietly and turned his attention to the bucket. It was quite the assortment, this time. Some where rough, some smooth, some glossy, some blue, some... very, very round. He picked up that oddball, and his eyes widened as he realized what it was. It was a pearl, a black one, and a pretty good size.
"Okay, w-why? Why do you keep bringing me stuff like this?" He sputtered, holding up the pearl and bucket. He'd tried asking questions before, but seldom got normal or satisfactory answers. He hoped this time would be different.
He got a reaction, at least: he caught the eye angling slightly back toward him, and a flicker of light returning. He could have sworn he saw the mouth twitch, though mostly into a frown. When Ruv's hands weighed delicately on the top of the stern, Whitty sat back in an effort to keep the boat level. Taking in what body language he could, Whitty saw now, just how tired Ruv appeared to be, as if it was all he could do to keep his one eye open. With a sense of urgency, Whitty dragged himself back to reality, gesturing emphatically as he asked again: "Why? What's this for? Use your words, man."
Immediately, Ruv's eye narrowed and his slight frown deepened, prompting a small flinch from the bomb. Whitty was fully expecting to be stung, and braced himself for it, eyes closed. He nearly jumped out of his skin when instead, he heard a THUD against the dinghy's edge. Then again, and again. Opening his eyes, he saw Ruv repeatedly, quite deliberately, throwing his forehead into the side of the boat. Apparently, he was frustrated, too.
Whitty was about to tell the siren to cut it out when it suddenly stopped. Ruv's head was now set still against the stern, shoulders rising, then falling in a quiet sigh, before he rested his chin on the rim between his hands. The face Whitty took for 'tired' before now simply looked defeated. The bomb-headed young man refrained from saying anything, realizing words were only flustering the merman, but he knew Ruv could talk. They'd talked before... mostly Ruv just said he wasn't going to sting Whitty, but still, Ruv had spoken. There was no point in acting like he couldn't.
So lost was he in his thoughts, he'd hardly noticed himself nearing the boat's edge. For a moment, he thought he'd leaned in on his own, as if to listen closely for an answer, but... no. The movement had been completely subconscious. Oh, f- this isn't some legit-siren shit Ruv's pulling, right? Probably not, hopefully not. I mean, I'm definitely in control of my thoughts. He was snapped out of those thoughts by another sigh from Ruv, even though he had yet to say a word.
Silently, Ruv took the pearl and held it up between his and Whitty's faces — he should get that, right? Looking around it, Whitty's face proved puzzled still. Agitated, Ruv snatched a piece of volcanic glass he'd found from the bucket, placing it over Whitty's hand and wrapping his own over both, before expectantly looking back up to his land-dwelling friend's face. That nervous smile was back, and Whitty had to laugh off the awkwardness while he searched for the words.
"Aha...ha... this stuff looks... kind of like me?" He asked more than said, glancing a few times between the contents of the bucket and Ruv — there were a number of articles reminiscent of his clothing and skin's colors, not to mention textures. Whitty's heart spasmed violently at the way Ruv's face quite literally lit up. Reluctantly, he spun his free hand in a wheeling motion, continuing, "... which means...?" The glow flickered, but remained and Whitty thought he saw Ruv's eye twitch. The bomb grimaced before trying to intuit the meaning behind this, "Yes, please! Spell it out!" It was weird as hell, but he needed to know what it meant, and it was high time Ruv just gave him a straight answer.
Mista-BIG MISTAKE. — was the only coherent thought Whitty managed, as for a moment, all his senses could register was a splash and icy water enveloping him face-first. He'd been hauled from the boat and into the dark, frigid ocean. On instinct, he struggled, panicked against the feeling of cold seeping into him, and he gasped the second he felt air on his face. He took a second to process what was happening now:
He was breathing, his head was back above water... he was... not being strangled, even though it felt terrifyingly similar. Ruv was thoroughly wrapped around him, his face pressed into the bomb's neck and... nuzzling? It made Whitty squirm at first, it really was a bit of a disturbing sensation, but then suddenly, he stiffened and warmed all over as a blush spilled across his face and the realization dawned on him. If the siren hadn't been keeping him afloat, he'd have sunk for lack of movement. He was frozen in an entirely different sense now.
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