#if i could go back and implement my new system on that fic i would

[edsbacktattoo]

I was tagged by @epersonae to discuss my writing process and strap in because it’s fucking strange! 💕

Do you write in order?

100%. Unfortunately I am rather stupid, so my brain can’t maintain coherency if I need to go back and revisit something. It needs to be completed in order. This has in fact led to more than one frustrated breakdown about fic. I will go from Point A to Point B if it kills me. If I don’t know what to do next, I can’t just do the vague -insert short line here about what they’re doing and come back to it later-. I will sit there, completely stuck, until it occurs to me. I do not recommend this and I am also insane.

How fully formed does your writing come out the first try?

About 85%. Once I have that first draft, I look it over and find typos or missing words, etc. Once it’s cleaned up, I start to fix things that don’t flow right or sound strange in my head.

How many drafts do you go through?

Usually one. I will use a second draft if I get really really stuck and have to start again. But I don’t tend to use a whole bunch of drafts, I just keep tweaking the first until it’s in a place I’m happy with.

Tell me about your process.

Please keep in mind that I am very deranged so this almost completely does not make sense.

I usually sit down in bed with a cup of tea or some ice water and start writing. Usually I will have music playing out loud because if I’m using headphones - even though I love them usually - they will make me feel overwhelmed. I play music out loud very very quietly or, if I need to concentrate real hard, I write in silence. And then I just go.

After I get that first word vomit onto the page, I fix it up until it’s legible. I read it over paragraph by paragraph and fix each one as I go.

Then! This is the weird bit!

I have all of my work saved to my microsoft 365 account, which means I can access it from any device that has the app. So! If I’m inspired through the day — usually at work, I can add to it from my phone. In fact, I also do a lot of my writing first thing in the morning straight from my phone. Don’t ask why that happens, I haven’t an answer.

Anyway! After a shift at work, I will sit in my car on the rooftop parking lot of my building, and read my stuff aloud to myself.

I was talking to @skysofrey about this yesterday (while I was sitting in my car and talking to her lmao it’s a safe space <3) but, I used to think doing this was strange. Like 12 months ago I would have punched myself in the throat for even thinking it. But they taught us about this method at uni (thank you, Ursula K. Le Guin I love you forever and ever) and now I can’t finish a piece without reading it aloud first.

Once it’s been read aloud, the wonderful and amazing @tisziny beta reads it for me (I owe them my life) and then I make according adjustments. And then it’s done! :D

I will (no pressure ofc) tag @blakbonnet @wearfinethingsalltoowell @chocolatepot and @abigailpents and also anyone who feels like joining in!! This was fun!

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: News Crashing

Poly!TaskForce 141 x Omega!Reader

The Omega Pack Plan Masterlist

Summary: A change in procedure around base causes you to spiral as your world comes crashing down. There's only one way out of this and it starts with telling the truth.

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety, Existentialism, Misogyny, Dismissive Attitudes, Angst, Rage

Mentions of: Medication,

A/N: Honestly, I'd been inspired by a few series (Standard Emergency Protocol and Pantry Solutions) I've read those and it caused me to want to write my own ABO COD AU, so I started this as a sort of funny fic awhile ago. I'm haven't entirely plotted out the whole story, but I have some ideas for the first few chapters. I was finally inspired to finish and post it because @cringeycookies liked the snippet I posted in a wip tag game. So thanks to everyone who inspired me, and a special thank you to @penelopepine for helping me with the dialogue and Price's reaction as I try to begin writing for them.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the nurse responds, "we're no longer authorized to refill suppressants of any kinds for any purpose." With a push of the empty orange pill bottle back across the counter in your direction, she offers you an ugly forced smile.

"Is there really nothing we can do?!" You complain incredulously, "Nothing at all? What am I supposed to do with this?!" Taking the emptied bottle into your hands, you stare at the nurse with widened eyes and a wild look.

"There is no 'we'..." she rolls her eyes in response, focus returning to the papers before her. "But if you insist, you can always bring it up with your CO, or the Base Commander." She scribbles something out on the page, but you can hardly focus when your world is virtually crumbling apart around you. "Now if you don't mind, some of us actually have work to do around here."

Still stunned, you can't help the way your breathing picks up as your heart begins to race. About a month ago now there was a base-wide meeting where they'd finally cracked down and implemented a new program the government is trying out: OPP. The Omega Pack Plan. While it's uncommon for Omegas to even be recruited into the military to begin with, such a thing does exist. Regardless, the Base Commander gathered everyone in the Auditorium for a presentation to talk about the new program and how the army would implement it into the troops. Luckily, considering you're on an elite Task Force, it doesn't apply to you. At least... it didn't.

"What the hell is this?!" You yell, tossing the orange bottle in his direction.

He'd heard the stomps all the way down the hall and smelled you coming, so he's neither surprised by your appearance, nor startled by the toss of the bottle. John swiftly catches it in his hand as he looks up at you. "What?" He inquires, finally glancing down to examine what he's caught. "A pill bottle?"

"Captain, it's empty! They won't refill it- I can-"

A groan tumbles past his lips as he drags a hand down his beard. "Look, Panther-" referring to you by your callsign, interesting move. "There's nothing I can do, it's over my head now. I wish I could do something, but I can't." Sitting back in his leather chair, Price places the bottle on the desk; a faint rap of the plastic hitting the wood is the only sound between you momentarily before you hurriedly shut the door.

Panic begins to flood your system as you're not sure how to handle this. It's your turn to freak out. You know how this goes, you know the story now; ever since they'd implemented and dispersed the Omegas into the troops, they'd started implementing them into the Task Forces, and now they have to do so with the One Four One. Fingers curling in and out of shapes as you try to process your next move, you speak before you can even begin to plan what you're going to tell him.

"I- I'm- I..." You're pacing his office now, the heavy gaze of your Captain upon you as you try to prevent yourself from hyperventilating. The thing is, you're usually good with pressure- really good. It's your job to be good. It's just... this is different. This is your life, your livelihood at stake, the livelihood of all your future generations to come.

A sigh resounds throughout the office before you hear the low timbre of his voice. "Dove," he calls out with a gentle tone, "I want you to take a deep breath for me. Alright?" With the calm and even sound of your Captain's voice and the assured look on his face, you comply. Exhaling the last of your breath, you close your eyes and focus in on the deep intake of air through your nose. With the parting of your lips you slowly release it before giving yourself a moment.

When you open your eyes he gestures to the seat before his desk, though you know he won't take offense if you decline. Hesitant, one hand finds its way to the other, wrapping around your arm as you listen to him speak. "Now, can you explain what has you in this state? I assure you that there's nothing that can't be dealt with." You want to trust him, you know him--John Price--your Captain. He's always had your back, always made sure you felt comfortable in the Taskforce, always made an effort to check on you after things got rough.

You nod. Licking your lips, you search his blue eyes as you tentatively take the seat across him.

"Whatever it is, we'll deal with it, alright? I can guarantee you that unless you're trying to tell me you're an Omega, nothing you say is going to shock me that warrants the amount of panic you're putting yourself through," Price chuckles. He's obviously joking, trying to break the tension with humor. Lips drawn upward into a small smile, the Captain stares at you expectantly.

"What if I am?" You whisper, eyes unable to tear from his visage as you try and gauge his reaction. Unexpectedly, silence fills the space between you and feels deafening in the small space. The growing comfort of his office these couple of months now feels like a cage you're forced to stay in, under watch, as you stare down your superior on the brink of a battle to the death. And that's what you do. His blue eyes bore into yours, skeptically shifting between your left and right as he seems to try and get a read on you.

All of the sudden you jump at the smack of his hands hitting the desk in front of him. He laughs at you.

He's laughing at you.

And you're sitting there with your guts spilled out, dread eating away at the pit in your stomach... and he's laughing. It feels like forever is passing you by as you stare at him in shock, this moment between the two of you frozen in time as nothing else persists.

"I understand what this was now," Price explains, still chuckling to himself as he shakes his head. There's a warm smile on his face that feels eerie considering the dire context of the situation at hand. "You got me! I fully believed you for a second there, too."

Eyebrows furrowing in dark realization, you can't help but stare at him wildly. "Wha-" You begin to question him and his line of thinking, but he cuts you off.

"This was all a prank, right? The bottle, the hysterics- you really outdid yourself, Sergeant." Leaning back in his chair, he props his ankle up on his other knee. "Because let me tell you, this was good. Better than anything Soap's cooked up in awhile. Did you come up with it yourself?" There's a cheeky grin on his lips. "Ah, I know you did."

Lips opening and closing like a fish out of water, you sit in the armchair across from him pale with a dazed look across your face. He doesn't actually think that this was...

"Well, with your little triumph in your pocket, I say we get back to work, yeah? I've got some new leads from MI6 that've just popped in." With that, the man stands from his desk and rounds it. "Garrick should be back around Tea. I'll see you in the Command Station then," he informs you. It's then that he passes by, a genial clap on your shoulder while he's at it.

Left stunned in silence, you can't help but grit your teeth, consequentially pronouncing your jaw as anger ebbs through your bloodstream. Breath getting heavier, you can't help but loathe the meeting tonight. Your Captain might be satisfied with the conversation, but all you feel is discouraged. He's abandoned you, left you alone in his office with a humiliating sense of betrayal and shattered trust. Almost like you hadn't just told him your biggest secret at all.

Punching the standard heavy punching bag hanging in front of you, you grunt, ignoring the pain that gnaws at your knuckles underneath the reusable hand wraps. Sweat builds on your brow as you continue to unleash your pent up anger on the gym’s equipment. How could he?! When had you ever pulled anything even similar to this? Never! And the fact that you’ve only been on the team for a handful of months only exacerbates the abandonment you’re feeling right now. He’s your Captain! Regardless of your feelings or the situation at hand, isn’t he supposed to be there for you? He’d promised from the get go to help you with whatever you need, and now the one time you go to him for aid it backfires in your face and leaves you without any sort of solution going forward aside from straight up telling the whole team the flat out truth, and God forbid! You can’t even begin to fathom how that’d go.

A pent up and frustrated yell almost akin to something of a growl emanates from you as you tear into another round of swift jabs and punches. Regardless of the situation at hand, you’ve been trying to build up your upper body’s strength and letting out the anger you’d accumulated over this morning’s events seemed like a perfect opportunity to let loose.

The stretches and treadmill routine didn’t take a lot out of you, but the weights, and now the punching bag definitely is starting to take its toll. Sweat beads at your forehead in rivulets that drip down the sides of your neck, down your scalp past your neck and between your shoulder blades. Tank top soaked in sweat, you breathe hard as your heart pumps rapidly in your chest. You would’ve wound up here at some point or another tonight, but the Captain’s discourteous response certainly led to an earlier workout time.

While others sparsely litter the gym’s floor, you pay them no mind and vice versa. It’s not uncommon for soldiers to be found blowing off steam or aiming to beat their highest reps on the weights. Yet, this gym is reserved for higher standing members of the Force, the gym on the far side of the base where there are less people, offices, and considering the regular army men train in the bigger gym closer to their quarters, it’s mostly other higher ranked officers in here.

“Captain’s lookin’ for ya,” Markowski, another Sergeant that you’d come to befriend on base announces from the doorway, having poked his head in after leaving a few minutes earlier. He belongs to a different Task Force.

A groan tumbles out of you as you realize it’s already that time. Just as the door clicks shut, your phone chimes loudly with the alarm you’d set earlier going off. A few quick swipes of your fingers, you turn the alarm off and unlock the device, seeing a number of messages flood your notifications.

Kyle: You hear they’ve bumped up the timeline? 😯

Johnny: “ https://Tiktok/Shattered.Rat567 ” Had me rollin’ 🤣👏🏻 Gotta check it, Bonnie

Simon: You coming to the meeting or not? 🤨

Johnny: Where r u? You’re usually first here 👀 Cap’s getting peeved, watch out

Not looking forward to the inevitable mess of a meeting before you, you don’t bother rushing to join the men. With a wash of your face in the women’s locker room, a speedy bathroom break, and a grab of the items you’d brought with you, you’re heading for the Command Station.

With the time Price set the meeting, you won't get to eat dinner till afterward. You'd be lying if you said you weren't annoyed by this entire situation, your agitation from neglecting your hunger earlier has certainly come to bite you in the backside.

While you don’t have time to respond to their texts, having set the alarm with only enough time to get back to your team’s Command ‘station’ albeit more like your headquarters before heading out. Speed-walking through the orderly halls with a haste perfectly common around here, you navigate with a well practiced knowledge. Though you’ve only been here coming up on six months soon, you’re well acquainted with this part of the base.

Rounding the corner, you’re in the hall, close. Yet, the worry of being late lingers in the back of your mind and adds another layer of annoyance on top of your residual anger buried deep down from this morning’s situation. You’d inevitably come up with your solution. It’s not one you like… but it’s the only logical option. Another turn and you’re striding into the big garage-like room.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Sergeant,” Price calls out to you. Lifting his eyes from the map laid out across your station's table, he glares in your direction.

“What took you so long?” Soap snaps, his brows slightly furrowed as he stares at you from the opposite side of the table, hands lazily wrapped around his vest’s straps.

A look at your watch tells you that you’re not even late, the meeting doesn’t officially start for another minute! But you are usually waiting on them. He’s got you there.

“Yeah, you’re usually the first one here. It’s not like you,” Gaz whispers under his breath as you sidle up alongside Ghost, Gaz standing diagonal to you right beside Price at the head of the table.

“Focus,” Ghost orders the men, his hands tucked in his hoodie’s pocket. You don’t fail to notice the way he subtly takes a step further away from you as soon as they start talking again. Price goes back to talking plans as Gaz is questioning the circumstances of the information the Captain had acquired earlier when he’d had to leave the office.

“Which is exactly why-”

A heavy exhale on your behalf leaves the men frozen as their eyes drift back to you. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Panther?” The Captain questions. Jaw clenched, you tear your eyes from the map they’d settled on.

“We’ve got a big problem,” you announce, cutting off the Captain as you finally raise your gaze to meet Price’s slightly widened blue eyes.

“Well, if you see something that needs changin’ then let’s hear it,” he responds. A ‘hmph’ follows as he crosses his arms over his chest and sits his weight back onto his heels.

“It’s not about the op,” you correct him. Tilting your head side to side you attempt to crack the kinks in your neck while standing a little straighter to appear more engaged and serious.

“And it’s more important than this? What we’re doin’ right now?” Soap questions, his hands dropping to rest on the table as he looms over it, eyeing you with frustration obvious in his irises.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, a quirk of his eyebrow garnering your attention for a split-second. He’s genuinely asking, and there doesn’t seem to be a hostility in his scent as he turns his attention to you. Then there’s Ghost, who you don’t even need to look at to feel his heavy gaze on you, waiting expectantly.

“Actually, it is,” you argue with Soap, anger beginning to boil in your belly, the frustration and angst having been left to simmer all afternoon. “I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I came to you earlier,” you turn your anger on Price. He looks taken aback by the outburst, something you’re not known for.

“Dove,” he calls calmly, hands out in an attempt to pacify.

“Don’t-” you bark, starting to raise your voice without realizing it. “I came to you in confidance! Trusting you when you said you’d be there to help me if I ever needed it! How could you?” Gritting your teeth, you don’t realize how hard you’re breathing as your chest heaves with anger.

“Woah, woah-” Gaz sputters, “What-” holding his hands out to try and diffuse the argument.

“I let myself be vulnerable-” You continue to shout.

“Isn’t this something that shoul-” Soap attempts to dissuade, backing down as he puts his hands out.

“-and tell you the truth, and-” you’re lunging for him across the table. You’re held back by a massive hand on your shoulder. “You laugh in my face?! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You're suddenly pulled back, off your feet, and shoved into a metal chair that'd been nearby. Your Lieutenant is hovering over you, his cold eyes now tinged with a spark of anger as they bore into you scrutinizingly. There's the sound of commotion behind him, multiple voices overlapping, yet you can't see anything with that utter giant in front of you!

“Does anyone wanna explain what the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Ghost snaps. It's only then when the man steps aside that you can see where everyone is. With both of you in your respective corners, you simply glare at the Captain from over your crossed arms out in front of you.

“Are you bleedin’ kidding me, ya Scally?” Price grunts as he shrugs Gaz’ hand off his shoulder. “You’re still on about it! When w-"

"That doesn't explain what happened, Cap," Gaz interrupts, stopping him from going off and getting them nowhere.

He groans, running a hand over his face once more before composing himself. Everyone waits for an explanation—you too—he’d been the first to speak, and you’re curious to hear what he comes up with. “She came into my office, bloody cryin’, tossing me a pill bottle, muttering about, saying she’s a-”

You don’t dare let him finish, not wanting him to be the one to finally say it, exposing your truth to the team. "Omega. I’m an Omega, ” you finish his sentence. While you’re scared to meet their faces, you take a deep breath and force yourself to do so.

"Christ," Price curses, fingers coming up to pinch the skin between his brows as he hangs his head.

Ghost's stoicism is nothing unordinary, and in fact, is somewhat a comfort considering you'd expected nothing less from him.

Gaz looks stunned for a moment, eyes flitting about the other’s faces before the serious look on his face morphs. Lips slowly drawing upward, you shouldn’t be surprised when he starts laughing. "Yeah right," Garrick teases, "and I'm actually the Prime Minister."

Yet, it's not just him. The uproarious laughter from your right only adds fuel to the already burning flame as the two other Sergeants laugh like idiots. All as if it's some poor joke with no consequences to anyone's life, and yet... it's the truth. At the end of the day, it doesn't change anything. At the end of the day, your life is still in jeopardy and they're treating it like some joke. Unable to form any sort of retort, you simply blink; stuck in a stupor raw, stung, and with a dumb look on your face.

Soap, rounding the table slaps Gaz on the back, his face flushed red from laughing so hard. "Yer makin' my stomach hurt. God," he eggs the other on between his dying chuckles and attempting to catch his breath.

"You're really just gonna stand there and laugh?!" You finally burst. Anger surely must be coming off your scent in waves, but you don't care. Standing from the chair, you don't flinch as Ghost swipes his arm out in front of you in case you were going for the Captain again. There will be no physical altercation on his watch.

"She already pulled this on me earlier, mind you, and now what? You're trying to pull it over on the lads' too, eh?" Price goads you.

"And I was telling the truth! You're the one who said I was joking," you point out. The volume of your voice is lost on you, partially blinded by the fury bleeding out.

"I suppose you never did admit to it being a prank," Price reasons, fingers grazing his beard as he runs them over it repeatedly in thought. "But how do you expect us to believe that when you clearly smell of a Beta?"

"Even on the battlefield, after everything we've been through-" Gaz starts.

"After yer all sweaty from a workout, too. I think we'd notice, Pan," Johnny argues, illuminating a legitimate point of consideration.

"Oh please," you mutter quietly to yourself. Shaking your head, you can't believe they're really all being this daft right now. "Like you have heard of those Scent Spritzers.”

There are various perfumes on the market specifically designed to alter one’s scent. Most use it smell like an Alpha when they’re not, or an Omega when they’re wanting to seduce an Alpha when going out. But Omegas posing as Betas was rarely heard of. You’re more than sure it happens more frequently than people know of, they just haven’t been caught. And in your line of work? It’s scarce. People are thoroughly vetted, but… you’d been on suppressants for a long, long time. And a Beta perfume only perfected your hiding.

“Did you forget we’re Alphas, love? We’d be able to smell you across the room if you were,” Gaz taunts. There’s a puff of his chest that makes his cockiness even more annoying than usual.

"You really want to be an Omega? Dumb yourself down to some weak fragile thing?” Johnny jokes, nudging Gaz’ arm as he shakes his head.

“A doll who can get whoever she wants? Want to be nothing more than good for knockin' up and popping out pups?” Gaz adds on.

“Are you serious right now?” You test, seething under your skin as your hands ball up into fists. “How could you say that?!”

“It’s what people say,” Ghost comments.

“Nobody would want that and you’re out here lying about it,” Johnny pokes.

“We’re only trying to point out the flaws in your little rouse, Pan,” Gaz says, a smile lighting up his features as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"And what if I was lying, hm? Would that change anything you just said to me? How you feel about Omegas?" You scoff.

“This isn’t about your designation,” Price finally speaks. Fingers still weaved into his beard, his blue eyes lift to meet yours. “I see what this is about now, but there's nothin' to worry about, Dove.” Your Captain takes on a softer tone and all of the sudden you feel yourself start to get emotional as a twinge of sadness, of the hurt bleeding through upon understanding makes you feel seen.

“I know it's intimidating, the thought of having your first unmedicated heat, but we have medics here. It's natural. Heats, ruts, we all have them. And, hey... at least you're not an Omega, right?" Whatever relief you’d momentarily experienced sinks back down in your gut with the speed of a rollercoaster drop. It’s as silent as a stakeout, the only sound being people’s breathing. And the lack of yours.

It takes a moment to gather yourself, everyone’s eyes on you with the serious topic change. While sex and the downsides to a designation are something discussed with the boys, you’d often been left out. And to your comfort. "You know what? I can’t do this,” you retort. Backing from the group, you toss your hands up. “I guess you'll just have to wait and see," you bite back. With a whip of your hair over your shoulder, you head for the door.

The room is silent once more as everyone gawks. You’d never reacted in such a manner, had an outburst like that… this is… certainly different, and something they’re not at all used to.

“It’s because they took away her suppressants today,” Price explains. It might not have been something the group should be privileged to know. A private matter, really… but with the way you acted? He felt the men deserve an explanation, at least.

“That makes sense,” Gaz responds quietly, eyes still on the door you’d gone through.

“That’s no excuse,” Johnny counters, arms crossing over his chest with a scowl on his lips.

"Well... that went better than I thought,” Ghost comments with a shrug. “Back to the plan? We can fill her in later.”

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Welcome to To Daydream Believers : A Community Klaine FanWorks Blog

Hello Everyone!

Welcome and Re-Welcome to To Daydream Believers!!

I know the blog has been around forever, but with the influx of new people I thought I'd refresh the blog and welcome everyone again! I've been wanting to give the blog a facelift for a while, and it seems now is as good a time as any to reintroduce and reinvigorate the blog.

What is TDBFic?

I originally started the blog as the fanfiction reblogging sideblog to my original Glee/Klaine rewatch, fun&games, and podcasting blog - @todaydreambelievers. TDB isn't being run any more, but I've always maintained that as long as there is interest - I'd keep the blog going.

The intention of the blog was to be a safe space where fans of Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson could read works (about them individually or as a couple) without fear of running into bashing of either character. It was also meant to be a community blog where anyone could choose to participate on their own terms.

Becoming a Member -

Whether you're an author who would like a place to showcase their works or just a fan who'd like to recommend their favorite fics, anyone is allowed to be a member. All you need to do is shoot me -- @spaceorphan18 -- a message, and I'll make you a member. All I ask is that you follow (my relatively few) guidelines.

Also - even if you become a member, there's no obligation to reblog content, but the option is always open!

Guidelines -

So what are the guidelines?

All fanworks must be Kurt Hummel friendly and Blaine Anderson friendly. While that doesn't mean bad things can't happen to them - it does mean that a fan of either character can read a work and not feel like their favorite character is being intentionally bashed.

Be respectful of other users.

A couple of smaller items such as - please reblog, don't post and don't spam. Some basic common curtesy things.

That's really it. I'll have some more details on a main page when I get that up. But really, it boils down to play nice.

What about tagging?

You don't have to tag - but it is encouraged so people can find your works if they click on one of our links. I'm working on cleaning up the tagging page so that the tagging system is clear and easy to use.

What about all the old stuff?

It's not going anywhere - though please bear with me as I try to clean up the main page. You should be able to find all of the old content, as I don't plan on taking anything down.

Anything new to the blog?

Why yes! I have some ideas for ways to keep the activity up on the blog...

Author Spotlights -- Every week we would highlight a author or artist - featuring their works on the blog. I'd like to do this again! I'll get more details out soon - but anyone is welcome to participate, even if they've done it already!

Prompts & Tropes -- I'm not sure how I'd like to implement these, but I thought it'd be fun if we occasionally did prompts or trope weeks to inspire you to create new things.

Events -- We haven't been event heavy, but @snarkyhag and I are already thinking of something fun to do for this summer!

Polls -- Okay, so this isn't entirely creation focused, but back in the day, TDB did polls every Tuesday. Now that tumblr has a fun, new polling system, I thought I'd bring these back - because why not?

Questions, Comments, Concerns?

I'm really open to anything you guys might have to say! Please drop a line any time you like -- I'm always happy to hear from you!

I do encourage you to come join and be a member! The more the merrier!

Happy Creating!

Xoxo- Spaceorphan18 :)

[viv-hollande]

So I have a story to tell. Allow me, if you will, to take you on my rollercoater nightmare of trying to find a royal title that has never been used before in a language I do not speak.

I'm writing a YOI fan-fiction and as I am wont to do, I got far too invested in the little things that don't matter and probably won't even make it into the fic.

I was trying to find a Japanese title for "Emperor Consort". "Emperor" in Japanese is Tennō (天皇), with the first character translating roughly as heavenly and the second meaning sovereign. Now, Tennō is a gender-neutral term; Josei Tennō (女性天皇) is a term used to refer to empresses regnant, but this is apparently used retroactively to differentiate from male emperors, while Tennō would be used during their life.

Kōgō (皇后) is the term used to refer to a non-reigning empress consort. At first, I was hopeful that this was also gender-neutral, but I was getting a bad feeling when everything I could find only mentioned empresses. Of Japan's eight historically attested female emperors, none have been married during their reigns, I dropped that line of inquiry for now.

Next, I started looking into Aiko, Emperor Naruhito's daughter. Japan's post-Meiji succession rules prohibit women from ascending to the throne. After WWII, the rules got even more restrictive. All cadet branches of the Imperial House were required to renounce their titles, and even today when a princess marries she has to renounce her titles so her husband can't become the head of a new cadet branch. As a consequence, legitimate heirs can only come from male family members. These restrictive rules have led to something of a succession crisis. Emperor Naruhito only has a daughter, Aiko. His only brother Fumihito, the Crown Prince, has one (1!!!) son, Hisahito, 17 years old and second in line. Third in line is Emperor Emeritus Akihito's only brother Masahito, who is 88 years old and has no sons. And that's it.

This minor crisis has led to much talk about opening up the rules of succession so that women can inherit. If such a rule is implemented before Naruhito dies or abdicates, the throne will pass to Princess Aiko. There is actually strong support for Aiko-Tennō in Japan, about 88%, and there's even a manga, of all things, about it. Great, I naively think. All I have to do is search for whatever her prospective husband's prospective title will be. Sure, it might be a little hard because of the language barrier, but some thorough searching and a bit of google translate should do the trick.

Nothing. It didn't work. I tried switching from DuckDuckGo to Google Search. Nothing. I tried to track down that manga. It's only available in physical form. I try to track down Japanese language articles about the manga and translate them. Nothing. I try to find articles about the succession crisis. Nothing. I track down a 2005 Japanese government report on preparing for the possibility of changing the succession laws. The English language copy of the official advisory report says, "Under the current system, the consort of a (male) Emperor is titled Kōgō (皇后, Empress), and the widow of a (male) Emperor is titled Taikōtaigō (太皇太后, Grand Empress Dowager), or Kōtaigō (皇太后, Empress Dowager). The consorts of a Shinnō and of an Ō are titled respectively Shinnō-hi (親王妃) and Ō-hi (王妃). With the informed advice of learned individuals possessing an expert knowledge of the subject, appropriate titles will likewise need to be established for the consorts of female Emperors, Naishinnō, and Joō."

Cool. It would have been nice if you actually did that. Thanks for nothing.

At this point, I go back to my other idea of just using Kōgō. I don't think it will work, but is have to try. I already recognize 皇; I tracked down the meaning some time back, it roughly means sovereign. I try to track down the meaning of the other character 后. Wiktionary gives me monarch, ruler, sovereign, empress, queen, or other female monarch. I still have some gut skepticism. I go to the top of the page to find the etymology.

"Oracle bone inscriptions often wrote 后 as 毓, depicting a woman giving birth. Wang Guowei posits the meaning extended from childbirth to succession, then to empress. In the modern form, the birthing figure would be 𠂆 and the child figure 𠮛."

Fuck.

At this point, I am fully done. I've tried, and tried, and nothing has worked. This is unsurprising; an emperor consort is unprecedented in Japanese history. It's also unprecedented in Chinese history, so I can't even try to transfer a Chinese title into Kanji and then convert that into rōmaji. I even tried finding Korean and Vietnamese emperor consorts, both languages having used Chinese characters in the past. Nothing. I tried plugging variations of emperor consort into Google Translate. It just keeps spitting out 皇后. At this point, I have to admit defeat. It's over. I'm done.

I'm in bed at 00:00 when it hits me.

I open my phone.

I go to Wikipedia.

I search for Prince Consort.

I switch languages to Japanese.

I scroll down.

One section is titled 皇配.

皇

I recognize that symbol.

I open the section.

I see the English words empress regnant and emperor consort.

I Ctrl+C Ctrl+V 皇配 into Google Translate.

Emperor Consort. Romanized as Kōhai.

It was that fucking simple.

Fuck me. Fuck my brain for making me do this. I probably won't even use the goddamn title in my ENGLISH-LANGUAGE fanfiction. Fuck this, why did I do this to myself I'm an idiot god Fucking DAMN IT

Knowing me I probably won't even finish the fucking fic and it will never even see the light of day.

FIVE HOURS OF MY FINITE LIFE WELL SPENT!

I'm seriously so fucking pissed with myself.

[chocoluckchipz]

I love your fics! Do you have any advice for beginner writers?

Thank you and yes, while I'm in no way an expert, but I can offer you an advice I was lucky enough to learn from others and that helped me to get where I am today.

Practice. A lot of writers can talk hours about their writing and their ideas but never actually write a single word. So, practice no matter what. One sentence a day if that's what it takes and yes, even if you suck on a grand scale. You can never improve if you don't write that first horrible draft. Speaking of which, write it as bad as you can on purpose, make that shit as crappy as you can. Once it's out of your system and you know you cannot do any worse, you'll notice a shift in your mindset. Go back to that crappy first draft and edit it into something decent. Or start a new one - it's your choice. As long as you actually write.

Read a lot. I know, I know, this is what everyone is saying but there is a reason they all keep parroting this one out. You learn when you read. You learn the way you want to write as you read something you like, and you learn what you'd rather avoid when you are reading something you don't like. There is no losing no matter how good or bad the book/fic/whatever is when you read it. You'll learn and improve nevertheless. Which leads me to point number 3-

Steal. Shamelessly and unapologetically. But, please, don't misunderstand! I'm not talking about copy pasting sentences or expressions from other works into your own fic. That's is plagiarism and is punishable by the law in most places. Rather, as you read, pay attention to how the sentences you like are structured, how the author uses the language and stylistic devices, how they build their story and developing their characters. Steal the tactics that made you love that story and implement them into your own. After some time, you'll develop your own style, composed of bits and pieces of everyone you've read so far which won't happen if you don't read.

Get a thick skin or two. I cannot even describe how emotionally attached we are to our own writing. If someone critiques it, we feel hurt, betrayed and disappointed. We cry, we get depressed, it feels like the end of the world and if we won't take a step back, sooner or later we'll quit writing all together. Learn to distance yourself from your work. I know it's cute and awesome and amazing but writers need to understand that their work isn't them. People aren't attacking you personally when they critique your work. Some readers might not like the way your story went and decide to be rude and tell you about it, which, honestly, is on them and has nothing to do with you or your work so ignore the jerks. You can't and shouldn't even try to please everyone. We're all unique and have different tastes so if someone doesn't like your story, it's not your story that is bad, it's that particular reader who has a different taste in reading than you and no tact to walk by and not be rude. Don't waste your time on them. Instead, pay attention to those who might genuinely try to help you when they see an aspect in your writing that could be improved (and boy do we all have a few of those). If that's the case, they would be polite and open to a constructive dialogue.

If possible, get a beta to read your work before you publish. If they offer criticism, remember that it isn't personal and aimed towards helping you improve, not declaring you an awful human being and a failure of a writer. Ask questions, think of how to fix the problem in your own way, or leave it as is if you like it your way after all. Side note: working with a beta can be very emotional. God knows, how much I've cried and got depressed over comments my betas were leaving me. I was seriously determined to quit a few times but my betas were wonderful and walked me through the process while being super supportive and strict at the same time. Was it all worth it at the end? Absolutely. These wonderful people were kind enough to pass their expertise onto me and had taught me everything I know about writing. Yeah, their comments hurt at the time because I couldn't distance myself from my work but ultimately, it made me into the writer/person I am today and I wouldn't have it any other way. If you're reading, guys, thank you so much! Sorry for the crap I've put you through!

And most importantly - HAVE FUN! If you aren't, why are you putting yourself through this?

[chen-chen-chen-again-chen]

For the WIP Game! (I went and updated the original post so it has links to all the answers, if folks want to check those out. Sometimes my brain good!)

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe asked me about the WIP called Will suck dick for books! 😆😆 I did not anticipate that folks would ask about works in fandoms they are not familiar with but I am LIVING FOR IT~~

I'm also going to go ahead and tag @fatalfangirl here because (methinks??) you have partaken of the Haikyuu. Going to also tag @thewesterndoor because YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID lolol jkjk who got me into Haikyuu and whose Take/Ukai fics I ADORE.

Fandom background: Haikyuu!! is an earnest and hilarious volleyball anime where everyone is gay and chaotic and loveable. It's SO SO GOOD and like all sports anime, it is not necessarily just about sport but about FEELINGS~

Pairing background: Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin

Takeda (Take-chan): looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you, English teacher, glasses nerd, his superpower is bowing at like 1000 km/h, head coach but he knows nothing about volleyball at the beginning of the series (he just stepped in to fill a void b/c he a good human), cries easily, tries to use poetry to motivate high school athletes, terrifyingly good at holding his liquor, in my headcanon he's a beast in the sack

Ukai: looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll, Reformed Gangster Vibes, in his late 20s but his energy is always Kids Get Off My Lawn, lightweight, easily manipulated by cute English teacher into coaching a high school volleyball team even though he has full time jobs running a convenience store and helping out w/ the family farm because (in this fic) he's Weak for Dat Ass

The fic: a canon-adjacent and canon-compliant take on (some of) the events in the series, but focused on the relationship between Takeda/Ukai, these baby adults who have somehow accidentally co-adopted 14 chaotic teens.

There's fake dating, nerding out about books, soft boyfriends being super soft and domestic, dating/married even if they don't realize it, and a backstory involving writing your phone number in the back of a book, lending it to a hot stranger, and somehow running into them seven years later.

U want a snippet? here's a snippet. I has lots of snippets. (This bad boy is sitting at like 75% in my drafts folder):

"Look, are you going to buy something or not?"

"Are you going to coach the boys' volleyball team?"

"No. You should try a meat bun, they're pretty good." 

The Nice New Teacher buys a pizzaman, which is kind of adorable. "I'll come back," he says, but it's hard for him to sound threatening around a mouthful of steamed bun. 

And another, a little later on:

Keishin's gotten used to being accosted by the Nice New Teacher every few days, so he's a little weirded out by a sudden radio silence. In that time, he reviews the store inventory, decides to implement a new organization system for the frozen foods, and even washes the windows. It's a slow couple of days, okay? 

He literally just finishes throwing GunGun bars at a couple of punks from the volleyball team - the one with the shaved head catches the protein bar in his teeth, what the hell is Take-chan teaching them - when the store phone starts ringing. 

"Lo, Sakanoshita Market." 

"Ukai-kun!" Take-chan exclaims. He sounds breathless and excited, as if he's been eager to talk to Keishin all day, which is kinda adorable and - weird, Keishin corrects himself, weird, and not adorable, and definitely not a little bit charming. 

"You again," Keishin sighs, as if he's got about fifty million other things that he could be doing with his time, instead of re-reading One Piece. 

And then later, after Keishin's ass is well and truly Trapped:

"Er, thanks," Takeda says, flushing.  "I, ah, as you can see, I… I have a lot of books." 

"Do I need to stage an intervention, Sensei?" 

Takeda scratches the back of his head. "My mother was a librarian," he says, laughing a little. "So I come by it honestly." 

Keishin finds himself squinting at a silver flask resting between a bunch of cookbooks. There's writing on it in English, in fancy Gothic lettering, and he manages to just make out Will suck d- before Takeda suddenly materializes there, his smile very bright. 

"Hope you don't mind red pepper, there's a lot of it in the yakisoba!" Takeda says, his voice a bit higher than usual. "We should eat!"

THANK YOU for letting me blather about this fic in a fandom other than Carry On, LOLOLOL!!! It's so fun to come back to this and definitely makes me excited to FINALLY FINISH AT SOME POINT THIS YEAR RAWR~

[gamerguy265]

I honestly didn’t expect you to reblog this again with a response lol. Starting off this response with a thank you! I know it was a long post so I’m happy you took the time to read it. That makes me happy :D

I also COMPLETELY get where you’re coming from when you said that you wouldn’t implement something like this in canon due to their insistence of hard, non-mallable rules up to this point. I wouldn’t either! At least not post-Season 5 where they’ve had EIGHT YEARS to further develop or enhance it. It’s too little, too late at that point!

But I also feel that it is also valid to feel that if you’re going to add an idea to your writing that goes on to shift the very fundamental understanding of how something works, you need to commit to the changes it brings or don’t include the change at all. Canon does not even bother trying to hide the fact they are not going through the doors they decide to open on a whim for a one-off power up.

It honestly just feels like you and I are watching canon swinging open door after door of new ways of how the Miraculous operate left and right all while having to listen to it say “no, it works like this” again and again and never walking through those doors they open. It’s a silly analogy, isn’t it? The point of a doorway is to walk through it.

If you aren’t ever planning on walking through it, you don’t have to open the door!

Me asking this question was really just a check to myself and asking “Am I completely off base with this notion of how they could make the powers work and properly balance them” since I'm writing a "what if" story where the kids recieve their Miraculous a day prior to the Stoneheart attack and not during it and going through canon akuma attacks from then on. It's in the same type of adaptation style as with what Scarlet Lady and zoe-oneesama had done. So when you said "yeah, I would read a fic about it but only if you worked it from the ground up and built around the prospect"...

Buddy, you clocked me in one go LOL. THAT'S WHAT I AM DOING.

It's a little embarrasing to admit that this story idea actually has been laying dormant in me since the end of Season 3 and I dropped it, but with Scarlet Lady having finished and listening to Zoe's little voice memo at the end of it, I took a metaphorical step back to really realize "Shit. She worked on this project for FIVE YEARS." That level of commitment is incredible! I want to make a project like that too, and I actually have one laying right there collecting dust!

I just have to keep moving one step at a time like she did. It may take some time, but it is something I really want to do! So in the rare instance that she is actually reading this, thank you Zoe. Your work has inspired me to pick up the pen again!

You also mentioned how you were a hard magic purist and have a dedicated Bible and when I heard that I was like "Oh... oh they get me. They get me fr." (Miraculous Bible writer here too lol)

Canon opened the doors for a lot of opportunities with how their Miraculous can function and I really want to go into more detail with those possibilites about what I have written up, but I know this isn't the place to do it. I have my own blog for a reason, lol. I know there's probably at least one person going "what the hell is bro yapping about" whenever this is going to pop up.

I don't think Miraculous really is the type of show to benefit from a strictly hard magic system writing-wise and should allow individuality and showcase the importance of each of the heroes individually, but I also feel that it needs a core set of rules, limitations, boundaries, and concepts they pull from that apply to all of the Miraculous regardless of circumstance. Canon has a bad habit of really changing their mind on what the rules are whenever it feels like it suits them. There are a lot of Miraculous that act like "exceptions" to the rules lol.

This was a fun thought exercise and thank you for taking the time to read it and respond to it! I know it was a bit long, but I really enjoyed this little back and forth we had and I enjoyed hearing a different side of the argument of "how can we fix it".

I'll probably be making a post about my own thoughts on how the Miraculous function in canon soon so I would really like it if you could check it out when the time comes! I really appreciated your feedback! Thank you for indulging me a bit and my blog that has been dormant since like 2019 LOL.

On the matter of the Miraculous as not just a magic tool but a jewel where “a magic being fuses with you and you become one”, what is your take on the powers the Miraculous give and how it plays into the whole abstract concept idea the kwamis personify? I’m a bit curious.

I know this may seem like an odd question, but really looking into the idea of “a human being is chosen by a mystic secret society because THEY in particular are the one who best embodies and upholds this concept at the forefront of their lives” as the basis of your magic system, it becomes apparent that Miraculous has a really barebones and literal approach to the idea.

One concept, one power (if you ignore the main heroine and villain lol) and it’s the most literal expression of the idea possible. Well, it is until it isn’t. I’m looking at you, ROOSTER. Dragon, you’re on thin ice because you’re technically able to spin the idea of your power being a play on the phrase “perfect storm” but I know that’s just wishful thinking on my part.

I understand why they chose to do it the way they did for their target audience (aka children). But I also find that using ABSTRACT concepts in the most literal and straight forward way possible is also a MASSIVE wasted opportunity from both a lore perspective and a storytelling one.

What about more symbolic or metaphorical means of showing those concepts and how they can play and be used in our everyday, mundane lives? What about using those concepts to help showcase their “moral lesson of the week” and letting it act as the lesson kids takes away from the episode because the show was made for kids?

Like for example, Marinette sees two friends get into an argument and are no longer on speaking terms. After hearing both of their stories however, she comes to learn that the argument stemmed from good but mishandled and misunderstood intention. From her desire to help those friends make up and reveal that good intention, she can use the power of Creation to create a magic bond between the two friends and connect their hearts to help them communicate more honestly and freely. Despite being a superpower, it acts as a lesson to show the need for mediation skills and promotes honest communication in friendships.

Another could be Adrien finding someone that is plagued with doubt and fear over wanting to do something they truly want to do but are too afraid to go through with it. Paralyzed by this fear, they choose to turn away from something they truly want to do and make themselves miserable due to it. Chat Noir then could use the power of Destruction to quash that fear holding them back and empower them, but also act as a lesson in the importance of encouraging others and the need for strong support networks in your life.

I absolutely love the idea of using those abstract concepts the kwamis embody to help guide the choices the Miraculous holders make and not only be used to showcase and promote growth in themselves but in others and the world itself. I think by leaning heavily into this idea, it could tremendously expand on the importance and gravity of the power of the kwami, the bond a Miraculous holder shares with their kwami, and just what wielding that Miraculous entails.

I know you’ve talked about how you feel as if the Black Cat should have the ability to purify and not the Ladybug because purification is the act of destroying or removing taint or corruption, so this ask is very much built off of this idea and I want to know how far you would willingly push this idea of what it means to wield the power of Creation, Destruction, Illusion, Transmission, and so forth.

Sorry for kinda the long ask, but I wanted to try and explain my question in the most easy to understand way possible lol.

I think I get what you're asking and it's an interesting idea. The first show I thought of after reading this was Winx club because that franchise does a lot of things with abstract concepts like belief and harmony leading to magic powers, but the concept is far from unique to Winx. A lot of magical girl shows lean into more abstract ways of granting magical powers because magical girl shows tend to lean hard on the whole Power of Friendship thing and friendship is an abstract concept, so it makes sense to pair it with other abstract things.

I personally wouldn't go this abstract route for Miraculous simply because it's such a massive deviation from canon and - when I'm coming up with ideas on here or writing fanfic - I do try to be as canon loyal as I can so that my stuff feels like an adaptation of canon and not a whole new show. Adaptation is an art, not a science, so there are no hard rules here, but my general approach is to try to make a bunch of little tweaks instead of big, massive shifts like you proposed. Those tweaks add up to massive shifts, but it's more of a gradual over time thing than a glaring, right from the start change. Or, at least, that's what I hope I'm doing!

That doesn't make your idea bad! Far from it. It would be a way to fix the wonky lore around the Kwamis because you are absolutely right to say that the powers they grant are often far too rigid for how abstract some of the associated concepts are. Perfection being a play on a perfect storm is one of the worst offenders in my book because sure it's fun and all, but when you try to match it with the very clear powers granted from concepts like Destruction it's feels weird and off. It's almost as if the writers are mixing a soft magic system with a hard magic system.

In case you don't know those terms, here's a real quick primer:

Soft magic systems are systems where the magic isn't clearly defined. They work best in stories where the specifics of how and why the magic works don't matter. Think Cinderella, where it doesn't really matter why the fairy godmother can do what she does because the magic is just an excuse to get Cinderella to the ball.

Hard magic systems are systems where the magic is clearly defined and basically works like a science. These types of systems work best in stories where the main characters are actively wielding magic and the way they wield that magic matters because it's how the writers establish narrative stakes. This is what Miraculous is theoretically doing with things like its five minute timers and single use powers. The problem is that the writers often ignore their established rules for the sake of plot and that's a terrible way to tell a story. It leads to all kinds of nonsense like the aforementioned mismatch between the kwamis and their associated Forces.

The way that I'd fix the Kwami issue is to just change what Force each Kwami is tied to. Abstract concepts are out, hard concepts are in and really always were because Creation and Destruction may have a broad range, but they work as hard concepts. I'd then do some relatively minor tweaks to the powers that each kwami grants in order to make everything align. (My peacock and dragon are arguably pretty different from canon, but generally speaking, my tweaks are more along the lines of the purification example you brought up in your ask).

But that's all about trying to fix canon and canon is a broken mess, so I don't blame you if you say, "Nah, I'd rather explore this fun idea I had to drastically overhaul the magic system and the way akuma fights work." And yes, this magic system change would also require making some pretty big changes to how fights work since akumas aren't well suited to the idea in their current form. You'd want to move away from the breaking the item path that canon favors and make it so that every akuma fight ended in a person rejecting their akuma. Which canon does do, but it's weird and I don't like it. When we first saw it, it was a big deal special event, but since then they've cheapened it by having way too many people be able to do it, so having it be the standard path instead of this overused deviation would be a good way to fix that. It would also allow for an easier lesson of the day if that's your kind of thing.

There's one other thing this could fix: the character bloat. You may have actually brought up one of the only ways to make a team of 18 heroes work. If we have each hero be chosen for their unique tie to an abstract force, then you can get some really niche problems that only they can solve. I'm not sure how well the abstract forces chosen by canon work for that idea, but the general concept is the core of plenty of successful properties.

I already mentioned Winx, but the 2010 version of My Little Pony also played with this idea by having each of the six main heroes be tied to an abstract concept (generosity, honesty, laughter, kindness, loyalty, magic). If you did something like that where the core team had broadly applicable powers while the side heroes had really niche ones, then I think the temp heroes could have actually been something great! Right now, most of their powers are too broadly applicable to the point where it's weird that they're not called on more and it would be nice to see that fixed. (Luka should be at every fight and you cannot change my mind on this. It's ridiculous that Marinette somehow magically knows which fights will have them fail and is able to always call him in at the right time, but that's a rant for another day.)

In summary, I like this idea and would watch a show with it/read a fic with it, but I think it's too deviant from canon to fall into the "fix-it" category. Feel free to (kindly) chime in if you disagree!

[enchantedseren]

Inside the Shadow

Hi there! This is my first ever post on Tumblr, my first fic in a very long time, and my first James Bond fic too!

This isn't Beta Read, I just have a couple ideas in my head and wanted to see if anyone else enjoyed reading what I had written as much as I did.

At the moment, with where my brain is heading with this, I would say this story won't be safe for those under 18, so please DNI if you're not of age.

Thank you!

Inside the Shadow

The remains of the old MI6 Building looked desolate and bleak as I looked at it from Vauxhall Bridge. Red double decker buses, black taxis and cars passing me by, bringing my brain back to the present, reminding me that I need to be heading into work. The walk to Whitehall was my favourite time of day, I even made sure to get off the Tube a couple of stops earlier than I could have just to have that time in my day to reset myself ready for whatever work decided to throw at me.

Working for British Intelligence hadn’t ever been something I saw myself doing growing up, I had always seen myself doing something a lot less concealed, like teaching or something along those lines. Having left Oxford University, fresh faced at 21, expecting the job of my dreams to slot into place, my world opened up, with a job proposition coming from within the Intelligence sector from the Lead Analyst at MI6.

Which brings me to today, swiping my ID card, the new system which opened up the gates into the body scanners; something M had implemented after everything that had happened with Silva and the previous M. I had liked Mansfield, she was hard as nails, got the job done and still had time to remember my name.

Getting into the lift, I heard my name called, causing me to hold the door open and wait for whoever it was that was so eager to see me. Eve Moneypenny, slightly out of breath as she caught herself on the door emerging from the side of the lift entrance.

“There you are! Thought you had gone to Analysis already.” Eve smiled at me, “M wants to see you,” the next sentence made made her pause. “007 needs something looked at, and M wants it to be you to help.”

I was sat opposite M’s desk, opposing, I tilted my head, and definitely too big for it’s purpose. The door behind me opened, causing me to quickly get to my feet, straightening out my light grey work trousers to keep my nerves in check. It wasn’t M that made me nervous, but the Double-0 agent that was following behind him.

“Ah, A03, I hope you haven’t been waiting too long for us to arrive.” M spoke calmly as he removed his suit jacket and began rolling up his sleeves. “007 was delayed heading over from Q’s domain.” M sat down in his chair, and motioned for 007 to sit in the chair next to mine. He did so, unbuttoning his own suit jacket as he did, I followed his actions, sitting back in my chair and looking at M, waiting for him to brief me on what had called me to his office for.

“Now, A03, you’ve met 007 before haven’t you?” Asked M as he looked up from a group of files and a pile of paperwork.

“Only in passing,” 007 spoke up before I had the chance to open my mouth, “and please, call me Bond, James Bond.” His blue eyes sparkled as a small smirk twitched in the corner of his mouth.

“It’s an honour to finally be introduced to you Sir,” straightening my back, “the other A0s speak so highly of your accomplishments as an Agent.” I tried to keep my voice as normal as I could, but I couldn’t stop myself from swallowing my nerves, or the way my tongue ran over my bottom lip, something Mr Bond didn’t miss either, his eyes instantly dropping to catch the small movement.

“Now, to the reason you’re here A03,” M began, ending the introductions abruptly, “007 has acquired some information I want you to go over, and see if there’s any correlation or pattern that flags up.” M raised his eyebrows at James, who reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small USB stick, which he held out for me to take, I did so quickly, flashing a small smile in thanks.

“Is there anything you’d like me to focus on at all Sir?” I asked M. Looking at the small silver memory stick.

“No, just let us know of anything you find that may be pertinent.” M stood, indicating that the meeting had now ended. I gathered myself, and walked behind Bond, towards the door. The agent held the large door open and motioned for me to go first, causing me to scuttle past him, my shoulder lightly brushing against his chest as I did. Choosing to ignore the smallest of touches that made my skin grow just a little bit warmer, I waved silently to Moneypenny and made my way to the lift to head to my department.

It was as I walked away I heard James talking to Moneypenny.

“So, what’s the deal with young A03?” His deep voice queried.

“James, don’t,” Moneypenny quickly and bluntly began, “you leave her alone! She’s too much to this organisation for you to go and -“ Eve paused, “fraternise!” She added on when the right word came to mind.

My eyebrows shot up, almost into my hairline, the hairs on the back of my neck rose as a large shiver ran down my spine, the sound of my black high heeled court shoes began to drown out the rest of the noise around me.

I really need to get to my desk.

[thefanficmonster]

Finally, You’re Back

Part 1: ‘There You Are’

Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil 8: Village) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of Injury and Human Experimentation, Insecurity, Swearing, Spoilers for RE8

Genre: Angst, Romance, Some Humor and Fluff too

Summary: And there they are, back in that village half a decade later to retrieve what’s theirs but unaware of what they’ll find in place of what they remember.

Requested by one Anon and the idea was modified by another Anon, so thank you both so much for sharing your creativity with me, it’s really been a huge honor to write a fic inspired by such a beautiful idea. Love you both! 💕

If again is what he hoped and prayed for, why is he damning it now Why does he resent himself for having hope When he previously wished nothing but to have it Why does their presence hurt When it used to heal him Why do they remind him of how much of a monster he is When previously they were the only one making him human Why is he worthy of their presence When he’s only become worse They upheld their promise But the person they are coming back to is no longer alive He’s taken his place and he hates himself for it He’d kill himself to get him back He’d do just about anything Just to prevent those eyes from seeing them differently Just so he can greet them with open arms and say:

“Finally, you’re back“

But as of now all he can say is:

“You’re back, but the one you’re searching for will never return“

He was made aware of their presence the day of their arrival in the village. He knew all about their venture, going around the village asking for him to be looked at with terror by the villagers they came across. He watched as all the people refused to tell them his whereabouts, claiming they didn’t know or they couldn’t tell. No matter what bribery or convincing method Y/N tried to use, the villagers refused to stand down from their determined ground.

They refused to give up though, going against his prayers that they would. They might have felt discouraged but they never, not even for a second, thought to give it up. Never did they even consider forgetting him as an option. It’s been half a decade and they still remember him, they still have the will to look for him despite all the time that has passed, despite the odds that aren’t in their favor, despite the lack of help from anyone.

They keep going, keep trying. They keep driving the sword deeper into his chest, piercing his heart.

If only they could accept me like this. If only they could look at a monster the same way they looked at that boy they met five years ago...

His mistake, although blatantly obvious even to him, is not something he’s willing to correct. He doesn’t want to give them a chance. And the answer to the question many - even he himself - would ask ‘why’, that answer he doesn’t want revealed.

Because he knows it and would do anything in his power to keep it from swimming to the surface.

The answer? - It’s because he’s afraid. Terrified really.

What of? That’s the part he’s not sure about. Is he afraid of them being scared, disgusted and repulsed by him? Or is he afraid of the complete opposite - that they won’t bat an eye at the change he’s undergone. That latter option leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth, his stomach turning. He doesn’t believe he deserves that reaction, after all he’s done, after becoming the monster he is now, he’s done his best to not even think about them - attempts that have failed miserably. Not a day has gone by that they haven’t been on his mind. He thought getting rid of the dog tag necklace - the promise - would cleanse his system of their memory that’s etched itself so deeply within his mind and soul but his hands refused to cooperate when his brain kept telling them to lift that necklace off his neck. He couldn’t do it, and he hated himself because of it for a while, but if he’s being honest he felt more relieved than anything else. He doesn’t want the only real memory, the only pleasant memory of his human days gone. He doesn’t want to wipe Y/N from his mind, they’re the only thought that still sends his heartbeat speeding in a positive way. He knows he’s a coward for what he does, hiding in the shadows and watching them waste their time with the villagers who think they are downright insane for going around looking for Karl Heisenberg whom the entire village knows as Lord Heisenberg. Not using his title each time they ask never fails to bring a smile to his face. It’s a relief that they at least have a nice picture of him that has stuck with them. And if it’s up to him, that’s the picture that will remain, they won’t see him like this, this new him won’t replace the old him in their mind. He’d do anything to make sure of it.

That being said, you can imagine the massive shock and mini heart attack he experienced one day when his motion detectors picked up on someone entering the factory in broad daylight. Rushing to the camera display, the briefest glimpse was enough to make out who this foolish person looking for their death was. 

Goddammit, Y/N!

It was no longer a danger to his sanity, their presence at the factory was an even worse danger for them. His creations wouldn’t think twice about slicing their tiny frame in half with their implemented chainsaws, designed to do exactly what he’s hoping they won’t get the chance to do this time. Running to the elevator, all he can do is silently pray he reaches them before they come across one of his minions.

What he’s going to say to them? How he’s gonna greet them? He hasn’t got the slightest clue, all he knows is that he has to get to them asap.

Running out of the elevator once it settles on the ground floor, he almost crashes directly into them, eyes wide with shock as the adrenaline is still pumping throughout his body despite the immense amount of relief he feels wash over him. He doesn’t notice at first, but when he does his heart sinks: their gaze is empty and their face unreadable. He can’t bear to have them looking at him like that, it hurts more than physically hitting him. Hell, it hurts more than the experiments Miranda did to him.

“How’d you find me?“ He decides to end the silence for his sanity’s sake, his heart heavy and aching in his chest.

They shrug, “Wasn’t easy, I’ll have to admit, you’ve trained the villagers well, none of em wanted to give me even a clue.“ They give him a small smile before looking around at the factory walls and everything lining them, “And then I put it together on my own. It was a bit of a stretch...“ they trail off, their eyes scanning him from head to toe, “...but I see it was a lucky one.“

He can’t help but huff, more out of disgust for himself than anything else, “If you call this lucky you’ve gotta have a few screws loose.”

Much to his surprise, this remark earns him a genuine, wholehearted laugh from Y/N, “Oh Karl, didn’t you pick up on my loose screws back when we first met? That’s odd, people usually take one look and can already tell.”

He scoffs, letting a small smile slip onto his face before he chases it away, forcing himself to maintain the seriousness, “I can’t believe how foolish you are. Didn’t you, even for a second, think there was maybe a good reason why people didn’t want to give you my whereabouts?”

“Oh I didn’t need to think about it!“ They say, lifting a pointer finger in the air as if to emphasize their point, “They were pretty clear when they were calling you stuff like ‘monster’ and ‘cruel Lord’ or whatever.“

Heisenberg’s eyes widen in an instant, “So you knew? You knew I was...I wouldn’t be the same as you remember me?” He asks, his jaw almost reaching the floor.

They nod nonchalantly, “I mean, I was sure of that part, it’s been half a decade, after all. Of course, I didn’t expect such a drastic change but it changes nothing. The villagers made it all sound super scary and dramatic...”

Karl doesn’t get confused often. However, right now, they’ve got him completely flabbergasted. “You were told about me...about me being what I am and you still showed up and walked into this place everyone fears like you own it? Where the fuck is your self-preservation instinct?!”

With an eye-roll, Y/N pushes past him, entering the elevator and walks over to the buttons to choose a floor, “Up your ass, Heisenberg. Right next to the stick that’s got you in such a foul mood. Is this how you welcome back an old friend?” Though the words themselves were harsh, they spoke them in such a way and with a sincere look in their eyes that they had the complete opposite effect of what they’d usually have. Hell, he wants to laugh at the vocabulary on its own, it’s so refreshing to hear someone use those terms and speak so freely around him, unfazed by his powers. To be fair, they’re probably not even aware he has any.

Looking at them now, their intense gaze telling him loud and clear that they’re completely unfazed, has him going soft. They’re still his connection to the humanity he’s lost, he’s still clinging onto it thanks to them. And while he still believes he doesn’t deserve to preserve any last piece of it, he’s glad that he’s not the judge of that. The punishment is not his to decide. It’s theirs. And who knows, allowing him to keep a tiny fragment of his humanity may be the ultimate punishment but he doesn’t know it yet. Regardless, he’s happy with it as long as it means he has them by his side to carry said punishment out.

When all they get in response to their words is a laugh they too let a smile lighten up their features, “There you go, knock some humor into you.” They turn to look at the buttons briefly before locking their gaze onto him once again, “I like what you did with the place. Care to show me around?”

He shakes his head as his laughter dies down, “You won’t like it.”

Y/N rolls their eyes yet again, “Leave that up for me to decide, old man.”

A frown comes across Heisenberg’s face, “Old man? How dare you?”

The sound of their laughter almost manages to wipe the frown off his face. Almost. “Old man who can pull off even a century old dog tag necklace.” They say, sizing up the necklace resting over his chest which he automatically reaches out to touch as a result of her remark. “You can keep it, by the way. I don’t need it back. I’ll be sticking around for some time after all.”

Before he can even process what they said, they’ve pulled him into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, looking out of the open side of it to be able to see the inside of the factory as the metal box keeps climbing, carrying them with it. Their back is turned to him so he can’t see the look on their face but he can only hope it’s not one of horror or disgust. If he were to receive that look from them his heart would shatter on the spot. So he’d rather they don’t turn around - both for him not to be able to see them grimacing and so they can’t see him staring at them with that look in his eyes.

Look of adoration he’s never given anyone before nor will he ever give to anyone else. And so, all the pieces of his soul have found their proper spots.

Thanks to Y/N.

Finally, you’re back.

[yellowocaballero]

Jon & Sasha Arson fic

Little fragment of an idea that never went anywhere. No reason for it. Just thought it would be funny. I was right. Rest under the cut. 

Most people who were unlucky enough to meet Jonathan Sims assumed he had no friends.

This was true, up to a point two weeks after Jon became a researcher at the Magnus Institute: afterwards Jon had no friends, except for Sasha James.

Sasha James was attributable to arson.

Most people who were unlucky enough to meet Jonathan Sims assumed he had no friends. 

This was true, up to a point two weeks after Jon became a researcher at the Magnus Institute: afterwards Jon had no friends, except for Sasha James. 

*******

Sasha James was attributable to arson.

Arson was attributable to a bookshelf of Leitners, humming strange songs and spewing toxic energy into the air in rhythmic hissing motions. The Leitners were attributable to Artifact Storage, a testament to mankind’s hubris and a modern-day tower of Babel where a group of underpaid academics found themselves stress testing kevlar and fire suppression systems each day. Artifact Storage was attributable to the Magnus Institute, where Jon had managed to land a job after three months of desolate post-graduate unemployment. And the Magnus Institute was attributable to - well, probably Jonah Magnus, but Jon found that it was likely a bit of a reach to blame a long dead Regency gentleman for all of his problems. 

Jon needed this job. London was expensive and so were funerals, and he couldn’t keep living on life insurance forever. It was even a good job, with decent pay and the exact kind of limp, half-hearted academia that the private sector promised disillusioned English mastery holders. His coworkers were nice - well, Tim was nice, everybody else seemed to hate him for the same reason that everybody else hated him, likely intimidated by how smart he was - and the commute was short. He couldn’t afford to lose this job. Spiritually, metaphysically, and literally. 

Which was why he should stop staring at this piece of paper. The follow-up research to a statement given by some idiot unlucky enough to cross paths with what was certainly a Leitner. 

‘ORIGINATION OF PHENOMENA ISOLATED’, the page read out professionally, yet chipperly, like a young woman in a new office job. ‘ITEM QUARANTINED WITHIN ARTIFACT STORAGE (46B.1)’. 

Hm. 

Jon pushed down on the floor, rolling himself a meter to the left.

“Say, er, Mr. Stoker.”

Tim “I’m only four years older than you, please call me Tim” Stoker, who had been thumping away on his cheap plastic keyboard either writing up a report or messaging someone on one of those infernal casual sex websites, pulled down his headphones and blinked at Jon owlishly, before splitting his face into a grin. Jon could practically hear the David Attenborough-style narration within his mind: ‘After long weeks leaving out food for the wild Simothan, the feral yet gentle animal approaches the researcher of his own volition. A win for scientists everywhere.’

“Yes, Jon?” Tim asked, in an uncanny yet hopefully unintentional RP drawl. 

“What’s Artifact Storage?”

“God, I wish I was you,” Tim said feelingly. But he nodded sagely anyway, milking his ‘wise senpai’ thing for all it was worth. Jon could practically feel Tim calling himself a senpai. It was kind of embarrassing. “You know the shady room locked deep within the basement that exudes a terrible aura of malice and hatred towards you specifically?”

“The gender neutral bathroom?” Jon asked, confused. 

“No, the one that always smells somewhat of blood. You hear screams sometimes?”

“The Archives!”

“Yes, but no! It’s Artifact Storage. If the researchers dig up any creepy shit from a statement, or if a statement giver brings in something that melts the metal detector, then we dump it in Artifact Storage and let those miserable fucks take care of it.”

“Is it more of a containment facility, or would you say that they conduct experiments?”

But Tim just shrugged. “My source down there tells me that they do some experiments to justify their budget, but it’s mostly unscientific. Poke this and I’ll give you twenty quid, that kind of thing. They say that if you really want a sick day, all you have to do is touch a mysterious rock and whisper your mother’s name -”

“Fantastic, thank you for your help, must go back to filling now,” Jon said quickly, skittering back to his own desk. He tried to distract himself from the terrifying thought of the basement full of supernatural nuclear bombs underneath his feet by trying to remember his mother’s name, but he was stuck on if it was Marjorie or Margaret. Mary Anne?

Maybe Tim’s personal Meerkat Manor series of Jon’s life had paid off - Sims Shack? - more than Jon would like, because Tim squinted at Jon in an unsettlingly familiar way. As if he knew exactly what Jon was thinking about the literature of mass destruction, and he really wanted Jon to be thinking literally anything else. 

“I wouldn’t go down there if I were you, Jon,” Tim warned, sounding a little like a horror movie trailer. “Bushy tailed college grads who go down there don’t come out the same as they went in.”

“I’ll take that under advisement, Mr. Stoker.”

“For the love of christ call me Tim!”

It really was a pity - Jon had actually liked this job. 

*******

It was remarkably easy to commit arson in central London.

Jon had done it once or twice. Three times, actually, although when you think about it arson was a criminal charge and only truly existed so long as someone was charged with it, so technically you could say that Jon had done arson zero times. In his defense, you try making it through Oxford without doing anything embarrassing. 90% of your time was in class or schoolwork and 10% of it was being hazed. At least Jon hadn’t fucked any pigs. 

Jon hit up the usual stores, and stashed the usual implements in his rucksack. It was a careful week after his conversation with Tim, as he couldn’t afford for the older man to connect the dots. He made a show of going home at a timely five pm, startling everybody around him, and paced in a tight circle around his flat until he gave up and watched mindless telly until the clock struck midnight. 

He took a cab to the park a few blocks down from the Institute, and walked the rest of the way. It was a cool, dim night in London, and the foot-traffic had slowed down to a steady trickle of young people in tight clothing. Jon pulled down his baseball cap on his head, fished a key out from his pocket given to him by a helpful and friendly janitor, and took a back entrance into the Institute. 

Said helpful and friendly janitor, whose allegiance had been won because Jon was a “nice young lad” and “I always wanted to burn down the place myself, I’m happy to see the next generation give it a go” had helpfully told Jon that there were no security cameras inside the Institute. A grievous oversight, but good luck for Jon tonight. He took the stairs down to the basement, zipping his jacket up tight against the inescapable chill, and pushed his hat further down his head as he navigated his way towards Artifact Storage.

He unlocked the door with the janitor’s key, hands shaking, and slipped inside into the dusky and unlit room. 

It was pitch-black, and Jon quickly fished a torch out of his backpack. He flipped it on, letting it slowly scan the room. It was the lobby into Artifact Storage, familiar from his stake-out missions: you walked in, met the bored woman behind the desk, checked in or checked out what you wanted, and if you needed to go inside she would press the button that unlocked the heavy climate-controlled door and let you into the hallway inside. The only other door in the lobby was to the office of the Director of Artifact Storage, a terrifying short and squat woman with silver hair pulled into a bun. 

Jon leaned over the counter and jammed the button, holding his breath until he heard the door click open. He quickly twisted the handle, swung the heavy door out, and slipped inside, taking care to grab one of the chairs in the lobby and prop it open. Quick escapes were necessary. 

He was in. 

The torch lit up a map taped up to the wall, and Jon squinted at it. Section A, Section B, Section C...he remembered the classification from the document he read a week ago, and slowly walked down the hallway until he found the heavy climate controlled door marked ‘SECTION B’. He carefully wrenched it open, taking care to grab a rolling cart and using it to prop the door open, before stepping inside. He fished the canister of gasoline and the lighter out of his backpack, giving the gasoline a good shake. 

It was a library. Small, and instead of shelves there were long metal racks with filing boxes stretching long into the darkness, but Jon knew a library when he saw one. Each box had a clipboard attached to it, and most boxes had very large and terrifying stickers on them painted sickly yellow or dangerous red. 

The only thing in the library that wasn’t a filing rack was a battered and beat couch. And the only person in the room besides Jon was a woman, blinking up at Jon blearily from where she had been passed out on the couch. 

“Er,” Jon said. 

The woman sat up, squinting at Jon’s torchlight until he guiltily aimed it just to her left. She had a wild mane of curly brown hair, and was wearing a pencil skirt and ruffled burgundy blouse. A blazer was folded at one end of the couch, clearly being used as a pillow, and she looked strongly as if Jon had just woken her up from a very nice nap. 

“Whuh,” the sleepy woman said. 

“My mistake,” Jon said, “this isn’t the loo. Go back to bed, this is - er, a very bad dream, goodnight.”

“Whutuhiseet,” the woman slurred. 

“It’s - very late, go back to bed.”

“Alright,” the woman said, falling back on the couch. After a second, her snores echoed through the room again. 

Jon very slowly crept backwards. Actually, on second thought, his mission could wait for tomorrow. Bit of a cock block, this, but that was alright - 

“Hey! Who are you!”

Jon, hand on the handle of the door, squeaked and turned around. 

The woman was back up again, and this time she seemed actually awake. She was frowning mightily at Jon, and was already sliding off the couch in stocking feet to glare at him. Jon was aware that he did not look like an innocent person in these events. The gasoline did not help.

The woman’s eyes trailed to the gasoline, then widened. Jon ineffectually tried to hide it behind his back. 

“You’re trying to burn down Artifact Storage!” the woman accused, somewhat fairly.

“Not all of Artifact Storage,” Jon said guiltily, “just the Leitners.”

The woman stared at him further, as if she was a special guest on Tim’s Sims Shack nature documentary. 

“Why,” the woman said slowly, “would you want to do that?”

Despite himself, Jon found himself puffing up in indignation. “They’re evil, nasty little books that shouldn’t exist. Forget studying and - and containing them, we should be making sure no more of them ever disgrace the world again. We should be burning every one we see. They’re pure evil given literary form, they are a disgrace to books and libraries, and if I ever met Leitner myself I would beat him to death with a rusty pipe for subjecting me to his fucked up books.”

The woman stared at him. 

Finally, she said, “I’m Sasha James. Want some help?”

“I - er, wouldn’t that get you in trouble, Ms. James?” 

“I like this job but I hate Leitner and his fucked up books more,” Sasha said gravely. 

Jon, having found a kindred spirit, held out the lighter. 

Sasha James took it, a wide grin splitting her face. 

*********

Jon didn’t remember much else of that night. 

There was definitely arson involved - or, seeing as they hadn’t gotten caught, just some good old-fashioned fire starting. He had the sense that they had both been so giddy with adrenaline that they had immediately joined the raging uni students in the late night bars, toasting their success in toasting. There had probably been quite a bit of alcohol.

When he woke up the next morning, it was in his narrow and uncomfortable bed, face to face with an unfamiliar snoring woman. For a second, two, Jon was briefly convinced that he had done something so drastically out of character it meant that a fucked up book had body swapped him with Tim. Bodyswapping was more likely than him having casual sex. 

Then Jon remembered the arson, and he exhaled in relief as his life made sense again. 

“Ms. James,” Jon whispered, poking her in the arm. She snuffled and muttered something. Jon poked her harder. “Ms. James, we have work.”

Sasha turned around, turning her back to him and pulling up the blankets. “Go back to bed, Tim.”

Ti - oh god. Jon felt like he was in a CW drama. This was why he didn’t interact with people, far too much likelihood that he would accidentally end up interacting with somebody who had sex.

“Ms. James,” Jon hissed, extremely embarrassed, “you have to get up!”

“Mergh mergh fuck off,” Sasha James said. 

Jon, like a true gentleman and hero, got up and made them both strong tea. He squinted at Sasha, recalling everything he knew about her (slept a lot, liked arson, hated Jurgen Leitner) before digging out some instant coffee and making some of that too. Finally, after shoving a hot cup of sludgey black liquid at the woman, she grabbed the cup and chugged it until she was able to sit up and open her eyes. 

She blinked at Jon, who was already picking his hair in an attempt to get ready for work. He could clearly see the thoughts ‘you aren’t Tim’ run through her brain. Hah! He could be the narrator of the nature documentary for once!

“Uh,” Sasha James said, “I’m sorry, did we…?”

“Commit arson? Yes.” Jon paused a beat. “But as I don’t believe we were caught, call it an indoor campfire.”

Sasha James drank more of her coffee. Jon grabbed his clothing and disappeared into the loo to get changed. 

When he re-entered his bedroom, she snapped her fingers at him. “Right! We got pissed after! Good times, mate!”

“I have to assume,” Jon said politely. He was doing his very best to be very polite, because Jon knew he was rude and didn’t want his new coworkers to know that until his probation period was over. Maybe he should have waited until after his probation period for the arson? Would it look bad on his annual review? “Do you need to borrow some clothing? I think we’re about the same size.” Oh, no, was that rude to say to a woman?

Sasha James squinted at him. “It’s like you’re not hungover at all. How old are you?”

“Twenty five?” Be polite, Jon! “And you’re...thirty seven?”

“I’m thirty one, asshole!”

Oh no. Women hated it when you called them old. “You don’t look a day over twenty seven!” Jon cried, panicked. 

“Have you met a woman?”

“I had a grandmother?”

“I’m going back to bed,” Sasha James said. 

Unfortunately, Jon knew that it would be very suspicious if they both skipped, so he forced Sasha into one of his suits that...looked much nicer on her than him, but whatever, and hustled them both to work. Now that the adrenaline had worn away and the sense of purpose in his holy mission had burned up with the cleansing flames, Jon found himself biting his nails in agony in the Underground. 

They had to know. Someone must have caught them. Maybe there were secret CCTVs in the Institute. Maybe Sasha was going to rat him out - but she had helped, so wouldn’t she just be ratting out herself? Was she a double agent? Mr. Bouchard was never going to forgive him, no matter how nice he was and how much he seemed to like Jon to the point where he rather wished someone had given him the ‘Stranger Danger’ speech as a child so he would know what to do. Jon was going to go to jail, or worse - get fired. 

Sasha, cooly sipping her coffee and looking somewhat fly in sunglasses and his suit, did not seem disturbed by any of this. Jon’s rapidly spiralling panic attack must have been obvious, because she casually flicked a finger on his forehead. Jon yelped with pain. 

“Take it easy, mate. If they catch us, I’ll just say that the books made us do it.”

Jon scowled at her, rubbing his smarting forehead. “The books?”

“Sure.” She waved her fingers spookily as the Underground rattled forward into the heart of London. “Brainwashed us to do their evil bidding of -”

“Destroying them?”

“There’s a lot of arson Leitners,” Sasha James said sagely. “Trust me, this is just a normal day in Artifact Storage.” She clapped him reassuringly on the shoulder, and Jon fought a blush. “Don’t worry. We performed a public service, kiddo. St. Peter’s gonna give us a medal when we get to the pearly gates.”

“I’m an adult,” Jon said, scandalized. He had gray hair!

“Well, I guess, but I don’t know your name, so…”

 Jon squinted at her. She squinted at him back. 

“You’re thinking that if you don’t give me your name I can’t rat you out to the feds,” Sasha said flatly. 

Jon pursed his lips. 

Finally, he settled on, “You don’t rat me out to the feds and I won’t tell them that you’re in an illicit relationship with Mr. Stoker.”

“Mr. - how did - what!”

“It’s Jonathan Sims,” Jon said gruffly, crossing his arms. He was slightly hungover and his nerve were jittery and he had set fire to his workplace the previous night, but somehow Jon thought that his heart was jackrabbiting in his chest for a different reason. Somehow Jon felt as if his heart couldn’t stop thumping behind his sternum because Sasha James was staring at him, head cocked, as if he was a mystery she was interested in finding out. “That’s my name.”

Sasha James stared at him, as if surprised, before her face broke into a wide and happy smile. Jon hunched his shoulders up, embarrassed, faintly aware he was blushing. “It’s nice to meet you, Jonathan!” Then she grabbed him by the collar, shaking him slightly. “And there is nothing illicit about me and Tim, and there is nothing between me and Tim at all, we are just friends, so get that out of your little head -”

The train rattled on towards the Magnus Institute, and towards the slight smell of smoke in the air. 

*******

Sasha: are you coming 2 the pub w/us 2nite?

Sasha: come onnn you should comeee don’t feel awkwardddd 

Sasha: I know you hate a) group settings b) drunk people c) Tim in a group d) drunk Tim and e) Tim drunk in a group but that’s no reason not to come!

Sasha: Tim is physiologically incapable of not adopting men 3-5 years younger than him it’s in his blood you can’t escape his affection

Sasha: or at least I find it funny so I’m not letting you

Sasha: Jonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Jon: Yes I’ll come, I need to talk to both of you.

Sasha: WAHOO

Sasha: wait

Sasha: really?

Sasha: did you commit ars*on again

Sasha: wait if you did don’t tell me the courts can request text transcripts

Jon: No, I just need your advice on an urgent matter.

Sasha: do you need to be drunk to do it

Jon: ...maybe.

Jon: ....Mr. Bouchard offered me the Head Archivist Job?

Jon: Which is stupid because I’ve worked here for barely four years and you’ve worked here for about ten years I think. And you’ve published five papers in parapsychological research. I know I helped you figure out that this place is a weird trauma mill but it was really mostly you. It’s completely ridiculous to promote me and I’m afraid it’s favoritism. For potentially heinous ends? This feels awful because it’s such an honor but I would never stop feeling stressed and guilty because I know so many more people (like you) are so much more qualified. Or qualified at all.

Sasha: holy shit

Sasha: ...do you remember the speech I gave you on stranger danger?

Jon: I’m afraid to mention this to Tim because he might beat up Mr. Bouchard for both my honor and yours.

Sasha: Jesus at this point I don’t even want a fucking job anymore. What bullshit. I’m never going to get promoted and I just need to accept that. This isn’t your fault, Jon, seriously, thank you for telling me. 

Sasha: we can talk about this at the pub

Sasha: in private. Off the radar. 

Jon: Looking forward to it :)

Jon: did I use the emoticon right?

Sasha: Yes, Jon, you did everything right. 

[wonhaebunny]

tws // mentions of nightmares and canon-typical stuff regarding kamino. not a very feel good fic. takes place shortly after kamino, before the dorm system was implemented.

-

it starts with a doctor's appointment, surprisingly.

a regular checkup, the irritating kind where the hag drags him off to see their family doctor and asks all kinds of embarrassing shit while the doctor reassures her of her son's perfect health and katsuki fumes in the background.

these types of appointments are routine; they've happened the same way since katsuki can remember, and will continue to for as long as he remains legally a minor. maybe this is why he's so surprised when his mom goes off-script this time.

"katsuki's been very quiet." she says suddenly, interrupting the doctor's rambling about katsuki's physical health. the words are abrupt, like they've been sitting at the tip of her tongue, pushing to be heard. the doctor, a frail old man with kind eyes that sit behind thin-framed spectacles, blinks at her.

"what was that, mrs bakugou?" he asks after a bewildered pause. katsuki very much resonates with his visible confusion, turning to give his mother a glare.

"he's quiet," she says again, ignoring her son's accusatory eyes. "he's been staying in his room all the time, doesn't eat as much anymore. it's concerning."

katsuki's palms start to spark, defensive words already rising in his throat. he doesn't know why this bitch is deciding to make a fucking scene in front of the doctor when he's been fine. he barely even feels different, other than being goddamn tired. and sue him for being tired, when he got kidnapped by a motherfucking villain group not even two weeks ago! he's allowed to sulk.

but his arguments die at his lips when his mother turns her gaze to meet his. her eyes are serious, something genuine and heavy and vulnerable in them that has him faltering.

"shut the fuck up," he manages to bite out sharply, still feeling somewhat blindsided by the unfamiliar array of emotions displayed across her normally unreadable face.

she doesn't shy away from him, lips pursing tightly.

"i don't know what to fucking do, katsuki." her voice shakes.

and this, the utter helplessness threaded through the words, is what has katsuki sinking back down to his seat numbly.

he doesn't understand, not really. he's had less of an appetite since kamino, been unable to sleep or focus or... really do anything but mope, now that he thinks about it. but he'd assumed it would pass with time, along with all the other shit he'd accumulated from the event. he hadn't given it more than a few moments' consideration, fully willing to stew away in his room for the majority of the summer break.

but now his mother is looking at him, her once-impenetrable gaze wavering and lost and he feels like the air has been punched out of his stomach.

"i'm fucking fine."

the words come out too quiet, too unsure.

"you're not acting like it," she replies flatly.

"i hear you crying through the walls at night."

katsuki's cheeks heat up at the words, head dipping low as the doctor's gaze falls onto him, heavy and penetrating.

he hadn't told his mom about the nightmares, or all the other shitty feelings he's had since kamino. he'd assumed he was being subtle about it; evidently not.

"shut the fuck up," he spits again, glaring at her venomously. the gaze of the man on the other side of the table feels like lead, boring into him and rooting him to his seat.

mitsuki doesn't meet his gaze this time, having the decency to look guilty as she stares at the floor. he burns holes into the side of her head anyway, refusing to feel an ounce of sympathy.

"mrs bakugou," the doctor interrupts gently. "would you mind leaving the room for a moment? i'd like to speak with katsuki privately."

katsuki is ready to protest, ready to argue that he has nothing to fucking say to the asshole, but his mother is already standing.

"okay," she says quietly, and the easy admission, if nothing else, is what has katsuki's mouth snapping shut as she slips out of the room.

in her absence, the doctor leans back in his seat.

"how are things with you, katsuki?" he asks gently. the teenager glares intently at the grain of the dark wood table between them, refusing to meet the inevitably pitying gaze of the other.

"fuckin' peachy," he snaps.

"are you experiencing any issues in your life? girl problems? or perhaps... boy problems?"

"fuck no."

"and is school stressing you out much?"

"no."

"if you don't mind my asking, is your home life-"

"everything is fucking. fine."

"okay. okay. and... how about... the events of kamino? how have you been dealing with the aftermath of that?"

katsuki's jaw audibly clicks with the speed at which it slams tightly shut.

after a terse moment, he huffs.

"nothing to fuckin' deal with," he mutters.

the doctor makes a small noise in the back of his throat at this.

"it was a traumatic event, katsuki," he emphasises gently.

"they didn't do shit to me," katsuki snaps. "kidnapped me, kept me locked up for a day or two, then the heroes came. nothing to fuckin' deal with."

there's silence for a long, long moment.

then, slowly, wordlessly, the old man leans over to pluck a pen from his desk. he scribbles something onto a sticky note pad before him, and peels the layer of paper away.

"katsuki," he says quietly, offering the paper to the teenager with soft, sad eyes. "i would like it if you talked to someone. this is a very good friend of mine, and she-"

the sticky note is going up in flames before he can finish his sentence.

"i am not," katsuki spits venomously, raising from his seat as the charred remains of the paper float to the ground, "going to see a fucking shrink. i'm fine."

the doctor doesn't look upset, and the fact makes katsuki even angrier. the blonde watches irately as the man patiently peels another sticky note from the pad, writing down the details neatly and offering the new paper again.

katsuki doesn't reach to take it, fists curling at his sides.

"i'm fucking done here." he says roughly. "keep your bullshit psychoanalysis for the losers who ask for it."

he's just turning to storm out when the man's words stop him in his tracks.

"are you tired, katsuki?"

he doesn't answer, jaw clenching tight.

(tired? he always is, these days.)

"you look it," the man continues guilelessly.

"i've been your personal doctor since you were in elementary school. i don't think i've ever seen you this exhausted."

katsuki doesn't move away from where he stands in the middle of the room, but his hand drops to his side from where it had raised to wrap around the doorknob.

"are you experiencing difficulties sleeping?" the man presses.

(every night.)

"or perhaps a loss of appetite? motivation?"

(god, every damn minute.)

"katsuki," his doctor says, rising from his seat to round the table and face him. he's so small, so delicate in his withered, wrinkly body. the man takes katsuki's hand in his own, and presses the sticky note into his palm.

"please talk to her. i think it's quite clear you need help, and there's no shame about it. all heroes do."

katsuki thinks back to all might's emaciated form at kamino, standing alone with his finger outstretched to the world.

you're next.

his tongue grows heavy in his mouth, and when the man calls mitsuki back in, he lets himself be ushered out of the room smoothly.

mitsuki doesn't ask, even though katsuki sees her eyeing the crumpled sticky note fisted in his hand as she drives them home.

he would appreciate it, in any other moment.

now, he's too preoccupied with staring at the tiny yellow square distantly.

he eats healthy. trains hard. studies daily. sleeps eight hours a day. katsuki has always, in every way possible, done what was necessary to be the best, to stand alone. so why are these scrawled contact details staring up at him right now?

where did he go wrong?

why wasn't it enough?

katsuki is no stranger to feelings of inadequacy; he's grown more familiar with failure than anyone could ever imagine. it's an occupational hazard which accompanies the standards that he holds himself to, he's smart enough to realise that.

but somehow, defeat has never felt heavier than the crumpled paper in katsuki's fist.

[sunlightwoo]

fated by the stars (epilogue 2/2)

summary: with the soulmate system implemented, all that you wanted was someone that you could love naturally, without having to be bonded to a complete stranger that you’d meet inevitably. however, fate works its wonders in the collection of stars that you managed to end up with two soulmates, not knowing who you truly heard the soulmate bells for.

wc: 1363

taglist: @omgnctchina @memesolvernonchwe @vannitey @dvoz-writes @woozisnoots @solarwonux​ @yuzusoju @cheolright @shoshishua @urlocalcaratclown @s1ardusk @ayla-hathway @lieminoh @silverstonemanor @lynniac @mariecoura @hannie-dul-set @neojpg @my-chaos-in-stars @xxbluestrifexx @sncaffee @sdoulc @k-pop-ology @chirpyjisungg @emerod @rjsmochii @lowkeycarat @assiqueen @haotheheckk @shra-vasti @mvltimoon @moon-asia @dimpledsatan @shuatoyou @gyubagebin @jisungsdreamy @itsdnguyenxoxo @1-800-luv-u  @mercyeol @isa499 @youdawonu @taeguk-munchkin @skylions-den @fluffyhyeju @riashushu​ (send an ask or dm to me or @viastro to be added to the taglist!!)

a/n: on behalf of lila’s end, we really would like to thank everyone that has been enjoying our collab on this fic series!! this was something that i remember we created out of like thin air one night i think it was over the summer or sometime in quarantine, and we were like ahaha what if we make everybody shit their pants and collabed. and i truly think that this fic was really something that you can see both of our creative personalities in, and again we love reading all the reblogs/feedback that we get for this!! this has been a really long journey, but with that comes to an end :(( we thank you guys again for reading fated by the stars!! and make sure you guys check out @viastro​ ‘s stuff if you don’t already!! until the next collab... 😼

masterlist | previous 

“You’re going to eat shit, Yoon.”

You grin at the latter that stood across from you with a smug smirk on his face, one that shortly fell into a pout as he trudged over to you before wrapping his arms around your waist. His eyebrow is raised as though it were a challenge for you to test against him, but by the time that you gently hit the back of his head with your own helmet, he lets out a noise before you start giggling to yourself.

“In your own dreams, sweetheart, because I will make sure that I win tonight. I only let you win that first time around because I was going easy on you,” He chuckles and nuzzles your noses together just as he brushes the loose strands in front of your face away from your eyes, “I’ll make sure that you’re going to be the one that eats your own words.”

Winking at you and walking away from where you stood frozen a bit, you blinked back into reality and brushed off the heat that was escalating to the tips of your ears to get into your go kart. You noticed that Jeonghan was already buckled up in his as you knew that the rematch for your first date was going to happen in a few moments and you wanted to be sure that he wasn’t going to go easy on you this time around.

“You’re lucky we’re soulmates, you cheating snake.” You snickered to yourself before getting into your go kart and putting on your helmet for safety measures.

You were already buckled up into your go-kart and already revving up the kart so that you had the advantage of a boost at the beginning before the race started. Glancing back to where he was beside you, he throws another wink to you through his helmet as you playfully rolled your eyes at his cute banter before focusing on the race course that was in front of you before the green light flashed for you to start in a few seconds after.

“You freaking cheated.”

Both you and Jeonghan were now staring up at the scoreboard to see what your times were and the puff of breath that he had let out from beside you made you grin as you once again scored a faster time than him. Looking over towards him, he was still staring at the time incredulously before looking back at you with a frown on his face.

“I didn’t even cheat-”

“I even tried to cheat my way and do it mario kart style.” He frowned and you gave him a shocked look before frowning as well.

“What the hell, Jeonghan? You tried to cheat?” You say with a bit of feigned hurt in your voice to tease him and made sure that your fake tear up was believable when suddenly he lifted you up from the middle of your torso and carried you over his shoulder, “What the hell- Jeonghan put me down!”

“Nope, we’re going back home. I rather race you in mario kart and win than see this rigged timer.” He grins hearing the squeals and giggles that were leaving your lips as he was walking back to where his motorcycle was still parked.

He puts you down after a while and finally starts to drive you both back to the house that you had just moved into days ago since the spring semester ended about a month ago. It’s been at least two months since the night of the lantern festival as you thought about how things were as though they were in the right place and in the right pieces of a puzzle while you clung onto Jeonghan with the wind breezing in your ears.

You didn’t think that wishing upon the flower that night would actually bring him to you, nor did you think that the fortune from the rigged fortune telling machine would guarantee that he was your soulmate. However you were still grateful for the bells and red string that still tied you both together when you realized later that night that your string and bells with Joshua were no longer present.

You remember him telling you that night since you couldn’t fall asleep that he found his soulmate, and you were happy for him, as he was happy that you ended up with Jeonghan in the end of fate’s game.

The game of fate; a test for your heart.

A smile crosses your face as you knew that you were right where you wanted to be, just as Jeonghan parks the motorcycle right in front of your new home before you both hopped off of the bike to head back inside. You knew that you still had things to unpack and that pretty soon your furniture would pretty soon come in the next couple of days that were coming up, but it still felt like home with the stuff that already filled the house.

By the time that you walk inside with your hand in his, you make a beeline to your bedroom to crash onto your soft mattress, his weight making the bed dip a bit on the other side as he already starts to cuddle you on it. A quiet laugh escapes your lips as you turn to face him and you notice how his chocolate orbs seemed to sparkle even in the dark with the moonlight shining in through the window reflected off of them.

“I love you, Jeonghan,” You whispered quietly out of nowhere and smiled as he places a kiss on your forehead, however there was something that was on the other side of the wall that catches your eye before you could even hear him say the familiar three words back, “Wait, what is on the wall? Is that your fortune from the machine at the festival?”

Just seconds before he could even stop you from getting up, you were already up off of the mattress as you looked at the framed ticket and there was a gasp that left your lips as you finally realized what his ticket was that night. Rather than words that were scribed on the ticket like yours was, it was an image instead, one that had your face on it as you realize then that it was no coincidence that the machine was there that night.

So he knew that night that you were most likely going to be his soulmate by the end of the night.

“That’s me…” You breathed out quietly, feeling speechless as you knew that he was looking at you from where he must’ve been sitting on the mattress.

You turn around to confirm your thoughts as he nods in response, not saying as you went back to sit next to him on your bed as a breath of what seemed like relief while you leaned your head onto his shoulder.

“I didn’t want to tell you that night because I didn’t want to be too sure. It was still fair game, whether or not you had those fortunes and guides that led to me.” He says and you nodded before turning to face him, just in the split second where your faces were now just centimeters apart from one another’s.

“But I still somehow found my way to you, especially when I wished upon that flower at the festival. It almost didn’t make it, yet it still flew with the wind and led me to you. I think I was lucky that Wonwoo told me where you were so that I wouldn’t miss my shot and lose you.” You speak up and lean in just to place a soft kiss on his lips, one that you felt him kiss back against your on lips as a smile crosses on his face.

“I love you, Y/N, and I’ll make sure that fate and whatever stars that created our destiny sees that we’re meant to be.” He whispers quietly, placing one last kiss against your lips as you smile back at him when you both hook your marked pinkies together as a sign of the promise.

“Until the end.”

[sweetiepie08]

Rebel Z (Chapter 10 Final)

nvader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list please let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. 

Thank you for reading! I do plan to continue the story in a sequel fic, but I may take a short hiatus first. I hope you enjoyed this!

Be on the lookout for the next book in the series, RevolutionZ! In which Zim and Tak attempt to join the Resisty and gain new companions! Dib fills his gap year by joining an alien rebellion! Gaz gets dragged in too! And what happened to Zim in Death Melee is explained! 

However, I will most likely only be posting links to Ao3 than full chapters to Tumblr. Again, Thank you everyone for reading!

[-]

“So, what exactly the fuck was all that stuff with the punch about?” Dib asked once they were a comfortable distance away form the Massive.

Zim glared straight ahead at the stars. “It’s nothing that concerns you, human.”

“Bullshit!” Dib slammed his hand down on the control panel. “Your little stunt could have gotten us killed. Out with it!”

Zim gritted his teeth and gripped the steering mechanism until his knuckles quaked. Dib braced himself for the inevitable screaming denial. Instead, Zim let out a pained sigh. “Fine, if you must know, I figured out three Urth years ago that my mission was a sham and my leaders were trying to have me killed, so I took revenge. Happy?”

“We know all that,” Tak snapped. “And anyway, I told you your mission was a lie a long time ago. What I want to know is how you managed to betray the Tallest without your treasonous thoughts setting of your life clock.”

“Yeah, and who’s Spek?” Dib added.

“You wish to hear Zim’s tale of woe?” He clenched his fist and heaved out another sigh. “Fine. Three Urth years ago, the Tallest contacted me, telling me they selected me to participate in Death Melee, an inter-galactic event that all would be watching.”

“The one where they throw criminals on a planet together to fight to the death?” Tak deadpanned. “That was your first clue?”

“They told me the rules had changed and it was now a contest of elite warriors. For my partner, they gave me a Spek, a smeet just shy of his cadet years. He hadn’t even seen his first cycle yet…” Zim’s fists shook as he cut himself off.

“Since you’re still alive, I’m assuming you won,” Dib said.

“Yes, but…” his gaze fell to the floor. “Yes. Anyway, throughout the Melee, it became clear to me that the Tallest lied. This was still a game for criminals, but Spek…” Zim narrowed his haunted eyes, “he was only there to lessen my chances.”

Dib watched, mesmerized. He thought he’d seen the many moods of Zim. He’d seen everything from proud boasting, to spiteful rage, to pathetic schmooping. But this, this was something else entirely, something he never expected to see from the alien. True remorse.  

“On my journey back to Urth,” he continued, “I had too much time to think and when made it back to m base, I was done with all of it.” Rage grew in his voice with every word. “I knew they lied. I knew they’d been lying. For a moment, I thought, if they didn’t want my genius, maybe someone else would. And that thought was enough to set off my life clock. Instead of simply ripping out my feedback chip, I infected it with a virus that sends the Control Brains a loop of my Urth memories, preventing it from receiving new thoughts and experiences.” A bitter, satisfied smile came to his face. “As far as I can tell, it hadn’t noticed anything was off until now.”

“And the machines I saw you building?” Dib pressed.

Zim drew himself up. “I have a contract with the Resisity. I build them machines, they appreciate my genius and send me monies.”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing for three years?” Dib asked, voice sripping with skepticism.

Zim nodded and said nothing more.

Dib stared at him, trying to get a read on this whole tale. He wasn’t sure what to believe. Zim’s reason for existence seamed to be pleasing his Tallest. The little green monster talked of nothing else since arriving on Urth. He couldn’t imagine Zim wanting anything else and he’d fallen for the schmoopy act before. But this was not schmoop. It was too subtle, too quiet. And that betrayal of his Tallest couldn’t be denied. Something had truly changed.

Dib looked to Tak to gauge her opinion, but her face revealed nothing except careful calculation.

“I’d heard the Resisty had been growing and gaining power,” she mused. “New technology granted them upsetting victories and made them more of a problem than they once were. They could be the key. We need to fight if we ever want a chance of defeating the Control Brains and freeing our people, and for that, we’ll need an army. With your connection and my information, we could pose a real threat to the Empire.”

Dib expected Zim to launch into another tirade about how he wasn’t in it for the politics. That this was all a personal mission and he had no interest in going rogue. That did not happen.

Instead, Zim said nothing for a long time. He simply stared through the windshield in tense silence. But then, a grin grew slowly on his face. “I’m in.”

[-]

When they made it back to Earth, they found that Gaz made use of MiMi and Mini Mouse as gaming companions, Dad bought her excuse that Dib was hanging out at Zim’s house, and that he hadn’t even stopped home long enough to notice the two additional robots in the living room.

Dib went straight to his room and laid out all of his recording devices. He had the notes he took the night Zim and Tak rambled drunkenly on the couch. He had the audio recording of the old man Irken that he couldn’t wait to translate. And he had the spy camera he’d been wearing to capture the whole experience. He never got so much undeniable proof on one mission before, and no one, to his knowledge, had this much evidence of this quality ever. He’d be king of the Swollen Eyeball network if he showed even a fraction of…

His eyes drifted to the Swollen Eyeball emblem pinned to his bulletin board and he let out a sigh. The Swollen Eyeball… what a joke. They’d been reduced to a bunch of anti-science conspiracy nuts. The organization became a competition to see who could shout their wildest theory the loudest. What were they compared to a real evil alien empire, a real soul-sucking, Lovecraftian horror, and a real space alien rebellion?

No. This was bigger than some crack-pot conspiracy group. This rebellion universe-shattering consequences. And he was going to be part of it.

[-]

Out in his ship, Zim stared at his PAK connector with warry eyes. He wasn’t sure what held him back now. His stunt on the Massive already solidified his traitor status, but this felt different, more official. It was one thing to enact vengeance on those who betrayed him. It was quite another to completely detach himself from society.

He’d been unwaveringly loyal to the Empire since his conception, but they didn’t want him. He’d seen that years ago. So what was he waiting for?

He disconnected the PAK from his back and ignored the lifeclock in the corner of his eye as he plugged it in. He opened the hatch, clicked a pair of tweezers in his fingers, then reached them toward his feedback chip.

At a light tug, his computer’s voice gave an automated warning.

You are attempting to remove the feedback chip. Doing so is an act of treason against the Irken Empire. Are you sure you want to proceed?

Zim closed his eyes and pulled the chip free.

[-]

Tak’s footsteps echoed as she walked across the concrete garage floor. MiMi’s metallic feet clacked beside her. Apart from that, the room was silent. She was used to silence. One grows accustomed to it when traveling alone through space. But these last few days had been anything but. And with Zim as her dubious ally, silent moments like this were certain to be few and far between.

And yet, this moment, she felt the need to fill it with something.

She popped open the windshield of her ship and hopped inside. “MiMi, my disc please.” Mimi reached into her head and took out the Urth data storage disc. Zim wasn’t the only one with a secret stash.

Tak took the disc from Mimi and placed it in a tray on the ship’s control panel. “Ship, track six please.” As she hopped out, music began to play. Smooth, jazzy horns filled the air and the singer began crooning.

Maybe this time, I’ll be lucky. Maybe this time he’ll stay…

The song was from an Urth performance art piece. The vocalist sang about some male mate. That part didn’t interest Tak in the slightest. Still, there was something about it...

Not a loser anymore, like the last time and the time before…

The song continued to play as Tak opened the engine access panel and began her work. While manipulating the many gears and wires, she found a few interesting repair methods that the human implemented over the years. Many employed the use of an Urth bonding strip called “duct tape”, which she had to admit came in handy. The human didn’t do a bad job, even if it was pretty slap-dash.

All the odds are in my favor, something’s bound to begin…

She finally untangled a mess of wires and reconnected them.

It’s gotta happen, happen sometime…

She fused together the final wire and the ship hummed to life. Fuel Regulation Systems online.

Tak smiled, “Okay Mimi, looks like we’re finally getting somewhere.” She ducked back into the access panel as the song his its crescendo.

Maybe this time I’ll win.

[nautiscarader]

Calm yo’ tits - a present fic for ZekkKiray

Rating: E, ladynoir/Adrinette (post-reveal), 9143 words (by notepad++ count, 8886 according to Ao3, so one of you is LYING)

Read on Ao3

 contains breastfeeding, lactation and mooificated large breasts.

Now, if you look at the tags (and the word count), and you know me, you might be understandably confused and worried that I might have been possessed, hacked by a Russian bot, or simply gone mad. The last part is very likely, but it is not the reason of this fic's existence.

The fic you are about to read is a present for my buddy, ZekkKiray, a vastly superior fic writer, who on one occasion quoted my works as inspiration for his, which solves once and for all the age-old philosophical dilemma, proving that something can indeed come from nothing.

I knew, to some extent, what his favourite kinks are, which sadly, were not exactly compatible with mine. So I needed to find a fandom we both like, and where I wouldn't have to worry too much about silly things like logic or common sense.

Enter "Miraculous Ladybug".

To put it simply, this fic is a bit of crack, I tried working some elements from my personal headcanons, and it doesn't break, assuming you don't push it too hard. More importantly, though, it's a birthday crack. Happy birthday, pal!

Also, this takes place after S3 finale.

================================

Sitting tensely in her chaise-longue, Marinette eyed her tutor and a temporary enemy with a keen eye. She has taken many exams in her young adult life, but this one might have been the most important so far. She concentrated on the small, levitating creature that flew that past her head, and when Tikki revealed a card, Marinette instantly replied.

- Zaggu, gnu kwami, the hero is Ram-page, and has ability to shapeshift terrain. Strong, but not too agile. Best pair with Pegasus for optimum efficiency. - she spoke quickly. - Yes! That's the last one! - Tikki cheered, flying to nuzzle Marinette's cheek.

For the past few days, Marinette has been extensively trying to fill in the shoes of Master Fu, as the new Miraculous guardian, and she has passed her self-imposed exam with flying colours, guessing each and every Kwami Tikki has tested her with.

- Well, if there are any challenging akumas, you will surely be able to know how to dispose of them! - Tikki cheered. - I sure hope so. - Marinette smiled - But now I have to study for actual exams, Tikki.

Marinette walked to her desk, took her college textbooks and opened them, her other hand already deep in the bowl of fruit snacks she prepared beforehand, knowing of the revision session ahead of her.  

- Don't you want to study with Adrien? - Tikki flew by her head - Last time you said he's helped you a lot. - I wish. - Marinette sighed dreamily at the sound of her boyfriend's name - And he did, but...

Her cheeks suddenly became slightly deeper shade of burgundy, and she shied away from her Kwami. The mere thought of her boyfriend made her instantly forget about her duties, both as a college student and as a protector of Paris. She let herself indulge in a fantasy of what could happen if the two were put together in her room, and were given a choice between studying for a very boring exam, or doing anything else... However, Marinette had to exert some self-control, and with her friend acting like a second moral compass flying next to her, she had to abandon of her daydream.

- You know, this is quite an important exam, I don't want to be easily distracted and-Adrien!

She let out a gasp when her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it to answer at once. Tikki smiled, watching as her friend melts in her chair at the sound of Adrien's voice. Something told her she's not gonna do any revisions today.

===================

In his dark lair, Hakwmoth was listening. With closed eyes, he concentrated his powers to filter out hundreds of voices, trying to find the loudest and angriest, speaking with pure rage and despair.

He heard squabbling teenagers and forgot about them at once.

He heard depressed, neglected workers and didn't give them a second chance.

He heard a man crying, pitiful and heartbroken, because of his beloved pigeo-NO, NOT HIM AGAIN, THIRD SODDING TIME THIS MONTH.

Gabriel sighed and closed the aperture overlooking Paris. Finding a good source for akuma was sometimes surprisingly difficult. So many voices, so many possible candidates. And yet, again and again, he has failed.

Gabriel stepped down into the staircase that brought him down to his office, and was not surprised to find Nathalie waiting for him.

- Anything new for me, Nathalie? - he corrected his glasses - Just one call from the office of Coco Marocco. They asked for a call-back... - Nathalie paused and dropped her formal attitude - Gabriel, is everything alright?

She gently put her hand on his shoulder, and his body twitched in an instinct to brush it off. But he restrained himself, paused and took another deep breath.

- It's sometimes so... difficult. To find a good one... - I know.

He looked back at her and gave her a rare smile, saying much more than he could have at the time.

- I'll make the call, thank you.

Nathalie left his office, never taking her eye from him as she closed the door. Gabriel sat in his chair, leaned back and dialled the number.

"Hi there! You have reached the office of Coco Marocco, the finest brand of clothing this side of the equator. For English, press One. Für Deutsch drücken Sie bitte..."

Gabriel sighed and let the voice machine continue its job.

"... for business inquiries, press 7".

Gabriel quickly pressed the number, and was welcomed with the same, lifeless, mechanical voice.

"To access your account, please input the number..."

Without thinking, Gabriel typed the eleven-digit number on the tone dial, and waited for the next step.

"We apologise. In order to access your account, you need to speak the numbers", the voicemail said.

A small vein twitched on Gabriel's forehead. He spoke each digit, loud and clear, hoping beyond hope it registered properly.

"We apologise, please say the number again."

It took him two more tries to reach the next step, and he finally heard the familiar waiting music. The second it stopped, he started speaking, but he was met with even more disappointing reality.

"Hi there! Thank you for your patience. Your call is incredibly important to us. Your number in the waiting queue is... FOURTEEN".

The mobile phone crashed and broke into dozens of pieces when Gabriel tossed it across the room, careful not to destroy the painting of his wife that hid the entrance to his observatory.  

- Why does it have to be so difficult? - he grumbled - Bunch of incompetent buffoons, making the easiest of things so much more difficult-

And then, a sudden burst of inspiration, privileged only to visionaries of his calibre, has dawned on him. He quickly got up and dashed to the elevator, not noticing that the crash alerted Nathalie to peek into his room, as he was too eager to bring his plan into motion as soon as possible.

When he stepped into his lair, he was Hawkmoth again, and he knew exactly what to listen for.  

=====================

The glorious weather outside taunted Nino to end his revisions early and go to the nearest park to bathe in the warm sunshine, but alas, he had to spend his day in the near-empty university library. Unable to concentrate, he took his phone and launched the app to check if the last paper has been graded, but was left with a disappointing, never-ending loading screen. He looked at the only other person in the room, sitting by the computer in the corner, and decided to break the ear-splitting silence.

- Hey dude, are the uni servers down, or something? - And when were they not? - the chubby student replied - The app constantly crashes, we can't even check anything, so I'm just loafing around.

Nino gave him - or rather his large neck -  a curious look and decided to end the conversation swiftly.

- Well, at least tumblog works... - If only - his interlocutor replied, much to Nino's chagrin, without even taking his headset off - Ugh, why did they change the colour of the background again? - You okay, dude? - he looked at his freckled face, and the man gave him a contemptuous look. - Yeah. But you seem to be okay with using this sub-par version - he glanced at his phone.

Nino raised his eyebrow and glanced at his phone.

- What's wrong with that?

The man groaned.

- Ugh, where do I start? The app also never works, they haven't implemented half the features of the desktop version, they still show sponsored messages, I mean, not for me, I hacked them myself away, and the options, can you believe they dared to change the font, it's so unreadable now...

He took a sip of a drink he definitely shouldn't have been allowed to bring into the library.

- But the site is so full of idiots now, it's not even worth going there anymore. Can you believe there are people defending the new Flunkies game? They've added cut content DLCs now! All of them sheep, they will buy whatever you throw at them, and...

The guy continued to complain into what was now a Nino-shaped void, as he left quietly a minute earlier, slightly afraid that arrogance might be catching.  

And he wouldn't be exactly wrong...

If Nino stayed, he would have noticed that the same window that finally tempted him to walk outside with its glorious view, became also a gateway for a dark-purple moth that landed on the student's headset, turning it into equally sinister shade.

Suddenly, the student's complaints, spoken into nothingness, fell on listening ears, and a voice spoke in his head.

- Anton, I am Hakwmoth. I have heard your eloquent delivery, and I must say, you are quite right. - I know I am - Anton replied, without missing a beat. - There are so many little things wrong with this world, and only you know how to fix them... - Yes, I wrote it all on my blog, but now they changed the tagging system, and they don't even filter by the- - The point is - Hakwmoth interrupted him - As all geniuses in history, you are underestimated. Like the Cassandra of the Greek myths, people do not believe you, despite you speaking the truth. But I can change that.

For the first time in rather long time, Anton listened, instead of talking.

- I can give you a platform to speak your wisdom, better than any social media would ever offer. I can give you the voice, and I can give you the chance to make others hear you... And to sway their views at once... - You-you can do that? - Anton asked excitedly, though remaining in his slumped pose. - Oh, yes. - Hakwmoth replied with an oily, greedy voice - All I need in return is for you to bring me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi. They are wrong anyway, so they don't deserve them... Embrace my akuma, and rise-

Gabriel paused. He expected to feel something by now, but instead, he heard a quiet tapping.

- Are-are you typing? - Well, duh, someone is wrong on the Internet. - I was going to give you powers to do all of that a hundred times faster... - Gabriel spoke, unable to believe what he heard. - Okay, I'm done. - Anton spoke - What were you saying?

Stopping the urge to find a new herald of his will, Hakwmoth stomped in place and let the power flow through him and into his new apprentice, transforming his somewhat shaggy clothes into regal, red-and-golden attire. The chair he was sitting in merged into his body, becoming a golden, ornamented throne. And finally, the device around his head became a golden, conical-shaped object, perfectly suited for his new puppet, already fitting well in his hand.

- As I was saying... Rise, Echo Chamberlain, and correct the world, for only you know how. - I will! - the new villain spoke into his megaphone and flew out the library in his levitating chair, smashing the window to pieces.

========================

- Adrien!

Marinette jumped the last few stairs of her house and nearly tripped, but fortunately for her, she landed exactly where she wanted - in the arms of her boyfriend, meeting his lips a minute or so earlier than she planned. She smelled his trademark cologne, singed with his name, and she positively melted against his chest, blissfully forgetting about everything around her, until her mother's grunt brought her back to reality.

She jumped to her feet, fixed her hair and waved her parents goodbye, as the two walked outside for a stroll on the sunny day, with just a chance of studying in the park, in between kissing.

- How was the journey? - Marinette asked, eager to learn all about his latest business trip. - Well, nothing too out of the ordinary. I mean, for me. - he quickly added, afraid he sounded too immodest - I wish I could have brought you with me. - No biggie. I know how strict your father can be... - she leaned against his shoulder. - Hey, look, we should get some ice-cream!

Marinette eagerly pulled Adrien towards the famous André's ice-cream stand that now was parked underneath an old arch, and, predictably, has already amassed a small crowd, hungry for some cold refreshment. But as the two approached them, they heard an angry voice, dissonating with the rest.

- What do you mean you don't have chocolate chips? What kind of ice cream vendor are you? - a young woman was arguing with the poor ice-cream maker, who reacted to her anger with his usual jovial, kind behaviour. - Ah, but mademoiselle, I have other toppings, perfect for you! Brandied cherries! Candied walnuts! Peanut brittle! Or even... - he paused, before saying the next word with less enthusiasm in his voice - Sprinkles... - But I want my chocolate chips! - Excuse me. - Marinette gently addressed the angry woman - Don't you think you act a bit selfish? I'm certain André has been working so hard to bring us these phenomenal treats, it's not his fault he ran out of some of the ingredients... - Yeah - Adrien added quickly - And I think you will find some of these are as good as the one you crave, I can attest to that. - Plus, there are a lot of people waiting...

A shared murmur spread behind her, with people nodding, agreeing to Marinette and Adrien's polite reasoning. The woman sighed, and was about to accept the lesser version of her favourite dessert, but the next words she spoke left her mouth with a volume of hundreds of people.

- I WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

Adrien and Marinette instinctively put their hands over the ears, and as they watched in horror, they might have just saved their sanity. Thre eyes of the people surrounding them glew with red tint, and the same people that a moment ago scoffed at the picky woman, now shouted with her.

- WE WANT CHOCLOATE CHIPS!

The two shared a concerned look, and they frantically looked around, knowing full-well it was a work of an akuma. Adrien spotted him first, a bizarre, red-and-gold man flying in his throne above their heads. They gave each other a nod and ran as far away from the crowd.

- André, run, it's an akuma! - Marinette cried, but it was too late.

The kind man now was roaring with them, demanding his own ice cream booth to give him chocolate chips, smashing it with his bare hands. Adrien and Marinette hid in an alleyway, and as soon as they could catch breath, their Kwami escaped their pockets, ready to transform them.

Two bright flashes of light later, Ladybug and Chat Noir escaped the same alleyway, following new source of cries and shouts. Ladybug shoot her yo-yo to climb onto the nearest rooftop, while Chat accompanied her onto his magical baton that propelled him into the air, so they could level with Hawkmoth's new puppet.

- You there! - Marinette shouted, gaining his attention - What are you doing to these innocent people? - And whatever it is, we are here to stop you!

The akumatised man laughed and rolled in the air in his throne.

- I am the Echo Chamberlain, and I have done nothing to them! I merely gave them the same voice I have. How dare these ice cream makers don't have the perfect ice-cream I want!

He grabbed his megaphone and spoke into it, emitting once more a deafening cry that reverberated amongst the buildings.

- People of Paris! Throw away your chains! Go to the barricades! And demand the ice-cream you want! Ha-ha-ha!

At once, the people beneath them, scared and cowering, stood up and rushed to the shops, big and small alike, chanting the same familiar phrase for their now-beloved condiment.  

- You fool! - a sudden voice rang in Anton's head - I gave you the voice so you can get me Ladybug's and Chat Noir's Miraculi! - Oh, right. - he took his megaphone again - But before that, get me Ladybug and Chat Noir! They took all the chocolate chips!

Echo Chamberlain flew onto his throne, leaving Ladybug and Chat Noir with the horde of people, that now began surrounding them with his single command. The two thought that they were safe on the rooftop of the building, but the angry people began climbing each other, forming human ladders, and in matter of seconds, the two had to escape in the same way they got there to begin with.

- He's using some sort of mind control! - Ladybug spoke, when they landed on slightly taller building, though they've already heard the clatter of broken glass beneath them. - The akuma must be in his megaphone. - Chat added - Also, I never thought people like chocolate chips so much. - I don't think they do. I think he likes it, and so he makes other people like the same thing.

Ladybug took a cautious look down, spotting some people rushing away from the angry mob.

- And I think he needs to target like-minded people. Or at least those that share some form of opinion with him... - she pondered. - Great observation, but may I add one? Duck!

Chat Noir pressed Ladybug's head down as a carton full of ice-cream cones flew right through the space once occupied by her head. The two rushed to their feet again, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, escaping the swarm of zombiefied people.

- Maybe there will be fewer of them here... - Chat spoke, but he was immediately proven wrong by a sudden voice behind him. - Oh, do you think ice-cream toppings is the only thing that makes people angry?

Echo Chamberlain arose from behind the building, already aiming his megaphone at the ventilation shaft.

- How about... Mobile chargers! Don't you hate how they always get lost and get tangled?

The powerful sound wave reverberated throughout the building, and the small rooftop door quaked when a small mob of residents rushed to the top, with said chargers in their hands, ready to strangle the two. Ladybug tried sniping a few of them with precise shots of her yo-yo, but the crowd was too dense.

- My lady!

Chat Noir grabbed her and propelled themselves off the building, landing in the vicinity of the same park they were meant to not-study in. But as they landed, they were already surrounded by more hypnotised civilians, this time complaining en-masse about mosquitoes.

- There's too many of them! - Ladybug shouted, jumping onto the nearby lamp post and then onto the tree. - I mean, they aren't exactly wrong, mosquitoes are horrible... - Chat! - Ladybug scolded him - That's the problem, he is making these people aware of all those small, insignificant problems of their lives. - But everyone has those!

Chat Noir's statement suddenly sounded ominously, as the sea of multicoloured people of every race, size and age surrounded them. Each person beneath them complained about something, creating a powerful choir of cacophony.

- We need... we need something to calm them down all at once...

Marinette looked around, and suddenly, as she spotted André's destroyed ice-cream stand, she saw the bell he would rang to alert Parisians of his presence, and a smile appeared on her face.

- I know what to do! - she cheered - Follow me!

The two escaped the tree just as if it was bout to be uprooted, and the two traversed the Paris to land on an even more familiar balcony.

- Don't peek, I'm gonna change my clothes. - she gave him a quick peck as she opened the hatch door to her apartment. - I'd never think of doing that. - Chat grinned, prepared his baton and jumped to the ground to defend the Dupain-Cheng bakery from the horde of people.

Once she was inside, Marinette quickly opened her supplies cabinet. Under the multitude of sewing accessories lied the hidden, oval-shaped red-and-black object that once looked like an ancient music box. The new guardian took it and gently tapped the black spots on the Miraculous Box, and under her touch, the small drawers began opening, one by one, like petals of a flower, revealing the multitude of Miraculi inside. Each of the intricate jewels glowed with a magical light of its own, as if to invite Marinette to try them, but she already knew which one to pick.

She took a small, circular Miraculous and spoke its Kwami name, illuminating her room with calming, white light, as the small, furry creature appeared in front of her.

- There's no time to explain, I need your help. Tikki, unify!

=====================

Meanwhile, Chat was getting more and more surrounded, forcing him to jump higher and higher, hoping the crowd would follow him and not Ladybug, trying his might to defend himself with his baton from the hypnotised masses, chanting their many inconsequential complaints that made them so strong.

- The prequels suck! - The sequels suck too! - Everything sucks!

As the mob was about to grab Chat, suddenly, he felt a familiar grip around his torso and his stomach did a somersault when he was dragged upwards, away from the crowd, as Ladybug reeled him on her yo-yo as if he was a fish.

- Thanks Ladybug, your timing is impecca-

Words got stuck in Adrien's mouth as he turned his head to meet his rescuer. At first, he wasn't sure it was Ladybug, but he recognised her yo-yo and her charming smile, though they were the only familiar element of her looks that remained. Only half of her original red could be found on her new costume, and the tidy, trademark polka-dots merged into black blots against white-brown rest of her costume. But it was the accessories she was wearing that truly befuddled Chat and forced him to pursue his curiosity, even if he was to be proverbially killed for it.

- My lady...! - Adrien stopped mid-way, taking another long look at Marinette - You... Your choice of fighting style is always impawssible to predict, but... Really, a cow? - What?

Marinette looked at herself, turning in place, as if to check if she's made a mistake choosing a Kwami to merge with, but once she ascertained herself, she shot him with a stern look.

- I'm not a cow. - she spoke quickly - The Kwami, whose powers I'm borrowing, is a yak! From Tibet! - Er, my lady - Chat raised his hands in defence, trying not to stare too long at the horns that adorned her head now - With all the respect, half of your costume is white with black spots, you have a ring in your nose, and you wear a cowbell around your neck... - IT'S NOT A COWBELL! - Marinette stomped in place - It's a Tibetan singing bowl, used for meditation. The Kwami told me so. - And what was its name?

With some hesitation, Marinette looked at Chat, whose lips curled into a sly smile, somehow foreseeing the answer and using every ounce of his intelligence to prepare a comeback.  

- Lhamuu... - she whispered. - Lha...MOO - Chat articulated, his smug grin becoming unbearable to look at. - Oh, shut up! - Marinette yelled - We have an Akuma to defeat. - You're right, we should get mooving.

The superheroes nodded and jumped once more into the crowd of people under the super-villain's control, a plan already forming in their heads.

===========

- What's this?

In his observatory, Hawkmoth looked through his puppet's eyes at a sight he most certainly didn't expect.

- Ladybug... is a cow. - he muttered, unable to believe his borrowed sight. - Actually, it's a yak, you can tell by the horns, they are quite common in Asia and- - Never mind that! - Hawkmoth interrupted him - Ladybug has acquired a new power! That means she's wearing two Miraculi! Get them at once! - Is it "Miraculi" or "Miraculouses"? Or does this word even have plural form? - Anton pondered - I think there was a thread on Ladyblog about it, and- - THEY CAN BE CALLED "CROISSANTS" FOR WHAT I CARE, JUST GRAB THE JEWELS! - On it.

==========

Anton's throne flew closer to the two superheroes, who kept fighting the overwhelming crowd of people. Though banking on disappointment from recent block-busters wasn't unreasonable, he decided to play on even more delicate strings. He took his megaphone and spoke one word that electrified the masses and angered them all.

- Don't you just hate... CAPTCHA?... yes, it's because of Ladybug and Chat Noir you have to solve those stupid riddles, finding fire hydrants and whatnot! Destroy them!

At once, the mass of people acting, ironically, like radio-controlled robots, roared with pure hatred and began swarming towards them climbing onto balconies, just so they can get to them. Chat took a step backwards, knowing the crowd there was equally dense. But just as he was about to secure Ladybug, she did something utterly unpredictable.

With grace and skill only she possessed, SHE jumped off the rooftop, right into the horde of people, ready to tear her apart.

- My lady!

From the rooftop, Chat watched as Ladybug landed on the plaza, and let the crowd of people encircle and approach her from every side. And though he was afraid, he also had faith in her, strengthen only by her charming smile and a wink she sent him, while the shouting mob surrounded her.

- It's time to use... The Bell of Clarity!

Marinette touched the bowl affixed to her neck, enveloping herself in a delicate, yellow light, grabbed what looked like a ring in her nose and swiftly pulled it, revealing it to have two small balls on each side, and twirled around, ending with a stylish, victorious pose. With her new weapon in hands, she reached it, and gently stroke the bowl with the metallic ring, letting its vibration travel towards their target.

A powerful sound wave surrounded her, spreading in all directions, engulfing more and more of space, finally reaching the ears of the hypnotised people. When the note rang in their minds, they stopped, appearing confused and disoriented, as they suddenly lost the connection to their master's words.

- No, no, get them, you idiots! - Echo Chamberlain shouted through his megaphone.

Marinette stroke the bowl a second time, producing a more melodious tune. The crowd of like-minded zombies became even less coordinated, much to the supervillain's anger. And when she gently began moving the ornamented metal ring across the bowl's edge, instead of producing a single note, it began singing, its soothing melody finally dispelling the charm put on the people.

- No! You have to listen to me! I am right! - Anton took his megaphone and began speaking into it again - The games now suck! The-there are micro-transactions everywhere! The-the toilet paper! It's never turned the right way around! There is product placement in movies!

But no matter how many annoying details about life - or rather lack of it - he spoke of, the crowd remained calm and peaceful, unified with the sound of Ladybug's bell, that spread across the city each time she hit it.

And just when he was about to think of some new annoyance, something hit him from behind him, and when he turned around, he saw Chat Noir, wrestling with him, his baton already locking his arms from reaching his tool of control.

- It's time to dethrone your highness! Now, Ladybug!

At once, Ladybug shoot the yo-yo, grabbing the megaphone, while Chat and Echo Chamberlain wobbled in the air, each trying to overpower the other. But as soon as Ladybug got her hands onto his prized tool of control, it was over. She broke it in half, releasing the purple akuma, she then gracefully caught with the same yo-yo.

- By bye, little butterfly... - she spoke to the purified Akuma, watching it, as it flew away. - Miraculous Ladybug!

A storm of light, radiating from her engulfed the city, repairing the damages caused by the entitled mobs. As for the Echo Chamberlain, he found himself in his regular, not-levitating chair, and only thanks to Chat Noir's strength he didn't hit the ground.

- I believe it was yours. - Ladybug handed him the headset. - Y-yeah... - Anton stuttered. - Uh, Ladybug, I... - That's okay, Anton. - she spoke calmly - We all get upset sometimes, and we all think we have all the answers. - But maybe it's better to walk outside every once in a while, and, say, have some ice cream? Regardless of toppings? - Chat Noir added, giving him equally warm smile. - Y-yeah...

The two watched as the man waddled away, pondering what his behaviour has done. Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other and bumped their fist with a cheerful "Pound it!".

- So, the Bell of Clarity, eh? - Chat Noir leaned against the wall, watching as his partner affixes her new accessory once more to her collar. - Jealous of my new toy, kitty? - Ladybug shot him with a mischievous grin - It has quite powerful properties, I should tell you about that some time, since I've been studying all the Kwamis and... - Nah, I was just pondering the name...

Marinette eyed him suspiciously, noticing the familiar smirk appearing on his face, about to turn into a full, unashamed grin, but when she did that, it was too late, as words already left his mouth.

- It's "Bell of Clarity"...or Clara-bell, if you will.

The Tibetan singing bowl made one last, long, pronounced note as Marinette struck Chat's head with it, putting an end to his jokes and another successful mission.

===========================

Another tune, this one of pure sorrow filled the air, as Hawkmoth roared in anger, his voice echoing in his evil lair atop the Agreste mansion.

- Preposterous! I have been defeated by a superheroine dressed like a cow! - I think she was a yak, Gabriel. - Nathalie added - SHE HAD A RING IN HER NOSE! - he yelled, slamming his fists against the floor, as he collapsed onto his knees - I HAVE A HEADACHE!

==================

Far away from Hawkmoth's prying eyes, as well as many security cameras they've learned to evade, two superheroes were celebrating another victory in a way that became almost a tradition for them. There was a time when Marinette would be utterly shocked at the mere thought of kissing in public, let alone exposing herself there, but the years of serving as a protector of Paris has changed her mind. At some point, she started treating entirety of Paris as her home, with every dark alleyway and rows of chimney that hid them from the rest of the world, and with that notion came the desire to express herself and her love in the open air. And it certainly helped that her boyfriend was a horny tomcat.

Though she would have preferred if Chat pushed her against her soft bed, she didn't mind the cold, sturdy surface of a building they were kissing against. With his relentless, but delicate caresses, there was no place on Earth where they wouldn't be feeling comfortable, and something told her she would be soon melting in his arms or underneath his body.

And Chat was especially meticulous today, as he wanted to make sure that he'd cover every millimetre of her new costume and find out if her new alter-ego changed something with her preferences regarding making love.

- Chat... - Marinette moaned and curled her toes, tightening her legs' grip around his body. - I've had you as a Ladybug...

Chat pressed her against the wall, his hand already on her crotch, and his fingers dug through the latex costume that parted underneath his gentle, yet steady caresses.

- ...then as a mouse...

She let out a short squeak, almost mimicking her timid, Multimouse persona, as he continued undressing her using his claws and teeth.

- Then as a Rena Rouge... do you remember that? - How-How could I forget? - Marinette gasped, her hands sliding up and down his slim, but muscular body - Especially since Alya was filming us...

Chat let out a deep purr of approval, letting his lips and tongue take action, as he leaned against the skin on her neck. And while he was busy peppering her skin with kisses, Marinette decided to continue diving into their memories, perhaps just so she won't have to moan in anticipation of her lover's next, carefully planned move.

- And-And do you remember when Mister Bug used Lady Noire's face? I've never thought he would be so rough... - Mhm, most certainly... - Chat purred, nibbling on her ear, both actions making Marinette's skin shiver - Turned out white goes very well with your the black mask... And, well, rest of the costume too... - Naughty kitten... - And now, I'm gonna be with you as a... - Chat paused, looking up at his lover - ...a yak. - It's fine, you can say I'm a cow. - Marinette rolled her eyes, leaning in for a kiss. - And how should I call you? - Figured you would kiss first and ask names second...

She spoke those words in somewhat croaky voice, after Chat's kiss successfully left her breathless. She tightened her grip on him and looked him in the eye, seeing the familiar, fiery spark of lust that could lead them on a predictable route.

- Yin Yak - she answered - That's the name of that-that superheroine... - Marinette paused, trying to silence herself from another surge of pleasure building up in her loins. - So, would you be Lady-yak? - Chat kissed her breasts through her costume, yearning to feel her costume splitting apart - Or Yin-bug? I have to say, I am purrplexed and confused...

Marinette cupped his face and brought his face millimetres away from hers, just so her next words could firmly root themselves into his mind.

- I will tell you how I want to be called. - she paused and without losing a bit answered - Yours.

With her words acting like a spell, Chat Noir smiled and in a single move tossed her into the air, and caught her with his arms again, letting her legs spread. And as he did so, a rip in her costume appeared, under Chat's most delicate of touches, as a final proof of Marinette's consent and her yearning for her lover. Marinette yelped when his fingers brushed the now-exposed skin underneath her partially-torn costume. In response, she yanked his bell and slid it down, finally laying her eyes on his naked, alluring body.

- It's so much easier for you... - Are you complaining about an incredibly minor inconvenience? - Chat paused - Be careful, or you're gonna get akumatised too...

They giggled and closed their eyes, preparing for a kiss, but as their lips were about to meet, Chat found that something began pushing them away. And when the two looked down, they couldn't help but gasp at the sudden development happening right in front of them.  

- What the-?!

Both Adrien and Marinette stared at her chest, or more precisely, her breasts that sprung from beneath her costume, ripping it completely and showing properly how enlarged they've become. And neither of them could tell which one was more surprised of the sight that greeted them. Her usually perky, medium-sized breasts now felt like two balloons that became inflated the moment Chat parted the way of her costume, though despite their size they seemed to defy laws of physics, never truly succumbing to gravity. As if in disbelief, Chat gently cupped them, and only under his touch, Marinette could feel how much they have grown, and that they were in fact still parts of her caresses-starved body.

- They-they are huge! - Marinette gasped, stating the obvious. - Indeed they are... - Adrien licked his lips - I have to admit, I am enjoying your new superhero form more and more...

Marinette gasped when she felt Chat's breath around her nipple, even more sensitive than usual, as his lips closed around the nub, a lot bigger and more pronounced now. And while his tongue lapped around her areola, his left hand caressed her other breast, exploring the new, vast territory he was going to conquer.

As Marinette whimpered under Chat's caresses, he moved from left side of her enlarged bosom to the other, finally taking a dive between them, licking the alluring valley between the voluptuous,breasts on both sides of his face. He looked up, meeting Ladybug's widened eyes, seeing the mixture of pleasure and lingering shock in them. He gave her one final kiss, and asked sheepishly.

- My lady, I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? - Can you hear me complain? - Marinette smirked - I have no idea what happened, but keep your mouth busy, kitty.

She gently pushed his head back between her huge bosom that almost engulfed Chat's head. Suddenly, she felt his kisses everywhere across her sensitive skin, causing her to moan without any care. They were still hidden, at least partially, since she fully expected her breasts might now expand like a portable raft and take the entire space of the rooftop.

Of course, she knew why this happened. Though Chat was joking, her Kwami certainly had a few bovine traits, and her arousal must have accentuated those even more, just like Chat's claws could tear through her otherwise indestructible suit as if it was papier-mâché when his animalistic needs got over him.

As her kisses became more and more ravenous, her legs slowly gave up, and that gave Chat a chance to sneak his arms underneath her back and raise her leg up, just so his access to her dripping sex could be easier. With her left leg on his shoulder, his fingers continued the delicate dance against her pussy, while his tongue lapped at the skin around her nipples.

- Cha-Chat!

Marinette threw her head back, hoping her lover would bring her to her climax soon, and when Chat closed his lips around her nipple once more, just to contain his scream, she felt something new. An exhilarating, electrifying surge rushed through her, and at the same moment as Chat's eyes opened wide, while his fingering slowed down, though with his new discovery, she didn't exactly blame him.

Once he understood what was happening, Chat smiled and doubled his efforts, suckling on her teat, just so he could taste the delicious, sweet milk she began producing.

- My lady, you are... full of surprises... - he spoke, once he took a healthy gulp of her essence, watching as it dripped onto her large breasts.

To her bewilderment, when Chat brought his lips back to her nipple and continued suckling her milk, she felt the pleasure rising again, and with the newly found source of enjoyment, Marinette realised she couldn't think straight, especially when Chat resumed the moves of his hand again, spreading her folds.

But this time, as his muscular body came in contact with hers, it became obvious he was eager for more than simple finger play. He moved his hips in tune of her moans, sliding his exposed cock along her folds, eager to her her begging. And sure enough, once his name left her lips, he dived between her wet, soaking folds, just like his head dived into the valley of her breasts, equally leaking from anticipation.

Marinette let out another prolonged moan. Chat often made love to her this way, pressing her against walls, often just meters away from busy streets, but never before has her body changed. And now, to each of Chat's thrusts, her enlarged breasts reacted accordingly, bouncing up and down around Chat's face, though every once in a while her lover's thirst for her milk caused one of her mounds - or rather mountains - to remain in place, while he feasted on the liquid ambrosia she kept producing.

Adrien thought that he might have  harder time keeping his lover up, and bouncing her with the extra baggage, but it turned out that the opposite was true. She felt lighter, giving him chance to exert a bit more pressure and dominance over his lover, much to her enjoyment. Ladybug dug her fingernails into Chat's shoulders, pushing him against the cushions of her bosom, letting his entire face stimulate her much larger and more sensitive area.

With each kiss Chat placed around her nipples came another deep thrust, reaching further and further into her yearning sex that coated his cock with her juices, only helping his cause of sliding as far as possible. And with that storm of sensation, it came as no surprise to Marinette that her mind slowly started going blank, and she began chanting Chat's name like a mantra, begging him to help her reach the peak he promised her, hearing only his grunts in return.

Their shared orgasm made their joined bodies shudder; at the same time, walls of Marinette's pussy contracted, desperate to contain Chat inside her, coating his crotch with more and more of her juices; then the torrential jets of his warm seed shot up her sex, right against her womb, filling her to the brim. And then, just when she thought she was finished, she felt a new form of warmth on her chest, when milk began spurted from her breasts, though the stream quickly found its way to Chat's mouth.

With each of Chat's final, weakening thrusts, the effects began anew, forcing her lover to switch suckling on her nipples, thirsty for her nectar, as if to use it to replenish his essence he kept flooding her with. But as their juices were leaking out, so was their strength, and even Chat's muscles had to give up at some point.

The two collapsed on the rooftop, still hidden by the shadows of the construction scaffolding, though at this point, Marinette truly didn't care if their love making has been heard, or observed by anyone; with her enormous breasts people might think it's some sort of stunt anyway. Her lips found Chat's and she tasted a new flavour, a sweet one that sent shivers down her spine, when she realised what it was, and she understood at once why Chat was so desperate to milk her.

The same flurry of kisses that drove her to her peak didn't stop, as Chat made sure to pepper her breasts with as many of those as possible, at the same time giving her ample time to recover from her equally explosive orgasm.

And as her mind, hazed by pleasure, slowly returned to reality, a new plan formed in her head, and with a quick, but difficult to pull off maneuver - a drawback of the new addition to her body - she rolled and pinned Chat to the ground, much to his surprise.

- My lady?

Chat's ears perked up when he saw her move along his naked body, leaving a trail of kisses as well as her milk along it. And when she reached her destination, she shot him with a mischievous, sly smirk that would have turn his legs to jelly if he wasn't downed already.

Her delicate fingers closed around his half-lips cock, bringing his sensitive tip to her mouth, and as her lips brushed his skin, it twitched satisfyingly in her hand, signalling he was ready again.

- You just lay there, kitty, and let me take care of you...

Marinette's soft, velvety voice, spiked with just a trace of lust worked its magic on Chat right away. Though Marinette might have been surprised by the sudden changes to her body, the superheroine adapted to them at once and decided to put them to good use. Her voluptuous, wobbly breasts engulfed Chat's hard cock, as Marinette proceeded to give her first tit-job of her life, given that now she had proper equipment for it.

As Chat got lost in her ample bosom, he threw his head back, filling the air around them with low purr of delight, followed by prolonged moan when Ladybug's mouth met with his cock's head upon her first bob. it was equally fascinating for Marinette to watch as Chat's length is enveloped by her breasts, and how she can now stimulate far more of him than when her mounds were small an perky.

She had to keep an eye on his legs that twitched with every few seconds in response to her caresses. Chat's claws closed around the nearest edges, after frantically trying to find one to push away his oncoming climax, and his slim, but muscular torso arched from time to time, in sync with Marinette pushing her massive breasts up and down.

To make things a bit varied, she slowed down her moves, replacing them with a bit of her tongue-work, much to Chat's delight. Marinette could distinguish her name being muttered by her lover, begging her to finish her love torture, but the superheroine had none of that. While she was certain Chat would love nothing more than jump to his knees and face-fuck her, she wanted to prolong his pleasure as much as she could, knowing full well of the building and boiling climax in his loins.

As her tongue ran around his head, Marinette had to steer away to taste her own body, still covered with traces of milk she was leaking, and when the same tongue returned to his tool, Chat moaned again, feeling the liquid she was mixing with his pre-cum, almost as if he could taste it again. Once more he was privileged to see how the once-shy superheroine pushed her limit of perversion with a kink neither of them expected to enjoy an hour earlier.

And it was that knowledge (combined with her dedication to bring Chat to climax, as she started bobbing her breasts up and down again), that drove Chat to his edge, turning his moans incomprehensible begging only Marinette could understand and reply to. She waited until Chat's eyes would meet her again, and spoke to him taking breaks from kissing his swollen tip ready to burst.

- You, kitty - she started - You like my milk... But I...

She pressed her hands against her breasts, wanting to completely envelop Chat's cock between her massive breasts.

- ...I prefer cream.

A loud, yet weak cry of defeat escaped Chat's lips at the same time as first rope of cum flew from his swollen tip, landing straight across Ladybug's face, forcing her to close her eyes momentarily, though she opened them a second later, just so she can marvel at Chat's virility.

Just as second rope of cum was about to decorate her face, Marinette opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, inviting Chat to change his aim, though with his cock still engulfed by her breasts, she was much in control of the trajectory, and with some difficulties, she has managed to fill her mouth with the thick, sticky seed, getting the first sniff of the pungent and aggressive, but alluring taste and smell of her lover.

Three more streams of his cum landed in Marinette's lips, before her treatment has emptied Chat's balls, and the heroine could swallow the veritable pool of Chat's cream sitting in her mouth. She did it without breaking the eye contact with him, making sure he'd hear the guttural, gulping noises as his essence travelled down her throat, his warmth, taste and smell lingering far longer thanks to its consistency. He must have been saving for days...

But that wasn't complete end of Chat's climax; long after he stopped supplying Marinette with his seed, he withdrew from between the heavenly trap of her breasts, and another strands of his seed adorned them, prompting Marinette to perform action she wasn't able before, due to how much bigger and more supple her breasts have become. She pushed her breasts just up enough so she can lick off each and every drop of cum Chat left, as if it was the most delicious meal she wouldn't let go to waste. And the sight of expression on Chat's face was a reward already, aside of the familiar, musky aftertaste that reminded Marinette who has just marked her as his. Not to mention that as she squeezed her breast, Chat's essence mixed with her milk, adding a new taste of sweetness to his salty one.

Marinette revelled in the overwhelming storm of tastes that filled her mouth, and that indulgence gave Chat opportunity to counter-attack. Though he was pressed to the ground by her body and her breasts that now were a significant part of it, the superhero easily rolled her to her back, his head already back between her mounds, licking the milk that has managed to leak during his climax.

- I'd say that's a tie, my lady. - Of course you'd say that. - Marinette chuckled - You just want to get comfy and drink milk, and I just happen to have what you need...

In response, Chat let out a soft purr, as he nuzzled himself into Marinette's breasts, never taking eyes from his lover. Marinette reached and toyed with his untidy golden hair, and her charming smile managed to lure him from between her breasts for another long-needed kiss.

And just when she thought she would be given some time to relax, Chat Noir yanked her legs upwards, pressing them against her body, trapping her enlarged breasts between them, squishing them even more, which made them appear even larger.

- Sorry, Ladybug, but you are just too appetising to not ravish...

Marinette yelped when Chat's hard cock entered her again, and she felt Chat's delicious weight on top of her. She knew her new form would drag a very primal string in his masculine mind, and she did not object when he jumped to his feet and pushed her into a mating press, ready to engage in deeply animalistic form of love making.

His hips worked twice as hard than previously, wanting to reach as far into her throbbing, needy sex as possible, and while he was leaning over her, he was given once more chance to taste her delicious milk, each time he plunged himself inside her.

Ladybug's legs dangled above their heads, in sync of his ravenous thrusts, and as Marinette met his eyes, she had no doubts what drove him into his frenzied state. She knew that her kwami chose to make her look like a perfect mating partner, and that Chat was making sure there was enough milk for his kittens...

Their frantic bucking lasted shorter than they expected, but the same, wild thought they shared pushed them over the edge at the same time. Chat grabbed her thick thighs, buried his face between her breasts that erupted with milk, and in turn flooded her once more with his virile seed, bringing their shared fantasy to completion.

Chat collapsed on top of her, landing his head across Laybug's vast breasts, once more basking in their sweet glory. When their lips met again, they could both taste it, and the two lovers fell into a tight embrace.

The two were blissfully unaware that in the mean time the sun has gone down, but that only meant there will be less light for onlookers to catch them.

=====================

Standing by the kitchen counter, Marinette concentrated on making another batch of freshly baked sweets, so then they can be ready in an hour or so when the bakery opens. It was the quiet before the storm, but Marinette enjoyed those early morning hours... especially when she had someone to help her.

Adrien sneaked up behind his girlfriend, peppering her exposed neck with kisses, while his hands gently travelled up and down her waist, though once he saw what she's been making this whole time, his caresses stopped,and he let out a satisfying purr. On the counter lay several, hemispherical pastries, glazed in white marzipan, each adorned with a candied cherry on top, and the longer Adrien stared at them, the more he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

- Well, our adventure has certainly given you some inspiration, Marinette. Your original design? - I wish. - Marinette snickered - Those are called Saint Agatha's breasts, it's an old, Italian treat.

She handed him one, watching as his fingers dance on the shiny surface.

- It does remind me of what happened yesterday, though... - Adrien smiled, before taking a bite of the sugary coating. - I might have double-glazed them just like you did me.

Marinette brought her finger to his mouth to collect a small crumble of marzipan stuck to his lips, and predictably, her boyfriend wasn't just ravenous for sweets, as he quickly licked her finger clean too.

- Adrien! - Marinette pulled back and rushed to the sink - Warn me next time... - Okay, here's a warning..

Adrien chuckled, closing his arms around her belly once more. He sneaked his mouth to her neck, while his arms separated, each travelling closely to one of her erogenous zones. His left hand dived underneath her apron and tried getting into her panties, while the right one caressed her perky breasts, and as soon as his fingers began toying around her nipples, Marinette addressed something that has been on her mind.

- You miss them, don't you? - You know that I love you exactly the way you are... - Adrien answered tactfully   - Don't lie, kitty - Marinette interrupted him. - You are, alas, only a man, therefore, I know you liked when my rack was three times the size of my current one. - Fine, if you want to, then I will say it - he kissed her neck - But just because I had more of you to love. Is it okay if I admit that I do slightly miss them? - If you'll keep finishing inside me, like yesterday, then I can assure you, you'll get them back very soon...

Marinette yelped, when his hands travelled back to her hips and spun her around in place, but once she met his face, she closed her arms behind his neck without missing a beat, just in time for his comeback.

- Is that a warning, or an invitation?

Adrien raised his brow, watching as her face reddened.

- Tell you what, I'm gonna finish in five minutes, and we might find out. - If you'll wear this apron then I will finish in five minutes... - Adrien!

[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Chapter 79

Zora had only stayed one night at the Black Bulls base.  Zara’s sister arriving the afternoon after Zara’s death to take Zora to live with her and her family in Rizon.  While probably fortunate for Zora’s mental and emotional healing, it was unfortunate for the case and cause of justice that Zora hadn’t seen anything.  With no idea who or why Zara had been killed, murdered in his own home; Zora seeing or hearing something would've be of great help to Magic Investigations.

It was mid-morning twelve days after Zara’s death when Julius arrived at the Black Bulls base.  He had been carrying the final report from Magic Investigations; brow deeply furrowed, lips set in a hard line, and furious tears shining in his eyes.  The case of Zara Ideale’s death was officially closed.  Zara had been more than a friend to Julius.  The man had enlightened and inspired him.  Which made both the report, and things he overheard when walking the grounds of Magic Knights Headquarters all the more upsetting.

Seated behind the desk in his office, Jax lowered the report and looked up at his friend.  “How could they find nothing?  No trace.  No lead. Is Magic Investigations really that incompetent?  I’ll send some of my people out and we’ll find something.”

Julius shook his head and downed the whiskey he had let Jax pour him when he first sat down.  Grimacing at the burn, he set the glass on the desk. “The case is closed.  Sir Jorah was adamant about that.”

Jax frowned at the empty glass, eyes narrowing.  “What’s going on here, Julius?  There’s something you’re not saying.”

Julius sniffed, lip twitching.  “I overheard some Purple Orcas.”  His voice cracked with emotion forcing him to pause and swallow the painful lump in his throat.  “They were conversing.  I didn’t hear a name.  But…  They were talking about having killed someone in their own home.”

Jax straightened in his seat.  Unable to believe it, he leaned forward and questioned.  “You think Zara’s comrades murdered him?”

Eyes stinging, Julius looked up at his friend.  “I’ve never known a Magic Knight to laughingly boast about having killed someone in their own home.  I had Marx check the mission reports.  There was nothing sent in from the Purple Orcas about entering someones home.  Let alone killing them.”

“But why?  Why kill one of your own?”  Jax asked, incredulous.

Julius’ hands balled into fists.  If he was right, just how far did this go? Surely Sir Jorah knew.  Why else would he be so adamant that the case was closed?  Why else would the Wizard King refuse to hear him out? Such news would be devastating for the Magic Knights.  Was that why Sir Jorah was keeping it quiet?  Or was it to protect the image of the nobles in the Purple Orcas?  No matter the reason, it disgusted Julius.  He had to get stronger and become Wizard King.  He had to fix the hierarchical corruption within the Magic Knights.  Sir Jorah might have taken the first step by implementing the star system.  But it wasn’t enough if things like this could happen and be swept under the rug.

More dismayed than he’d been in years, Julius replied.  “Heath may not have been the one to pick Zara for the Orcas, but he tolerated Zara well enough during his time as Captain.  Whlif on the other hand.” Teeth gritted, he shook his head.  “Zara might not have said anything.  But I could tell things got exponentially worse for on him when Whilf became Captain.”

“Are you saying a Magic Knights Captain had something to do with the murder of one of his own?”  Jax questioned, struggling to keep his voice down.

Rubbing his brow, Julius slumped back.  “Mana.  I truly hope not.  Not wanting to cause Zara any problems, I didn’t openly reveal we were good friends.”

Jax nodded, understanding.  Back in the day, before his rank had risen to the point of protecting him, Jamie and Pyter had set upon him more than once for forgetting his place as a merchants son and being friends with Julius.  Even now, he still occasionally got flack for his friendship with the royal.

Realization dawned, a deep foreboding crawling up Jax’s spine.  “There were three other royals and a noble who weren’t so careful about their friendship with Zara.”

Julius frowned and looked away.  He should have said something.  Should have told his sister and the others to be more mindful.  That hate and jealously among the nobles was a very real and deadly thing.  Maybe if he had...

“Are you saying I’m the reason for Zara’s death?”  Sounded a voice from the doorway.

Julius jumped up, knocking over the chair as he spun.  “Teris!  You shouldn’t listen in on others conversations.  Especially your Captain--”

“I wasn’t listening in.  I was coming to ask Jax if he’d heard anything from Magic Investigations about Zara’s case.”  Teris pushed the door open looking from her brother to her Captain and back.  “Was our friendship with Zara really the reason he was killed?  Murdered by members of his own--”  She fell silent unable to go on.  “What’s going to happen to them?  Will Magic Investigations need more time to gather irrefutable proof?”

“The case is closed.”  Jax said, pushing away a copy of the report Marx had smuggled out to Julius.

“So they’re being arrested?  The entire squad?  Or was it just a few? What’s going to happen?”  Teris asked.

Julius and Jax shared at look.

Heart aching, Julius stepped toward his sister.  “Teris.”

“No!” Teris stepped back.  “Don’t say my name like that or look at me with that face!  Something has to be done!”

“There’s no proof.”  Julius told her, throat constricting.  “I didn’t see who was talking.  Only part of a squad cloak.”  If only he had stepped around the line of shrubs.  “Even if I did.  I didn’t hear them say a name or give any details.”  He told both her and himself.  “They could argue it was a story.  A game.  A training scenario.”

Teris stared up at Julius with a look that hurt him almost as much as the wounded look she gave when he first left home after their mother’s death.  Only this pained look of hers carried a spark of hope.  As if she still believed he could do anything.

“You could go back to where you heard them.  Use your time magic.  Get a look at their faces.  Better yet, you could go to Zara’s and see exactly what happened and who did it.”  Teris said.

Julius swallowed, eyes red and shining with tears.  He shook his head.  If only he hadn’t been away on mission when Zara Ideale had been attacked and murdered.  “It’s been far too long for that to work and you know it.”

“Then Marx or Advisor Ellara.”  Teris tried.  “They could--”

“Teris. No.”  Julius interrupted, gently.

Teris spun around.  Julius grabbed her arm.  Pulling free, Teris made to light travel away.  Julius used his magic to slow the time around her and speed his.  He grabbed her once again and pulled her into Jax’s office, slamming the door closed.

Keeping a firm hold on her arms, Julius released the spell.  “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Where do you think!”  Teris snapped.

“You can’t.”  Julius said.

“Watch me!”  Teris growled, struggling to pull free.

Holding her tighter, Julius shook her.  “Teris!  Stop!  There’s nothing you can do.”

“There’s plenty I can do.”  Teris said.

There was wild look in her eyes that frightened Julius for her.  If she went to Magic Knights Headquarters or the Purple Orcas base and made a fuss she could be brought up on charges.  She could possibly even be dishonorably discharge from the Magic Knights.  Any chance she had of becoming Magic Knights Commander before her twentieth birthday would be ruined.  Slim as that chance was with Commander Greywright not looking to retire until Sir Jorah did, Julius didn’t want that chance taken from her.  He didn’t think he could stomach it.  Not when he would’ve been the cause, her having overheard him and Jax. Not when his friend had been murdered twelve days ago.  Not when his faith and love of the Magic Knights had been shaken to its core.

“No.” Julius said, grip tightening.

“Someone has to do something!”  Teris expressed, angry tears welling in her eyes.

“Not you.”  Julius mournfully told.

Tears slipping out of their banks, Teris stared up at him.  Silently pleading him to fix this.

Julius’ throat bobbed with emotion.  He had failed both his friend, and his sister.  His friend was dead, and his sister was hurting.  And there was nothing he could do about either.  He hated it.  He hated that the Wizard King he looked up to, and Magic Knights he loved would cover-up the murder of anyone.  Let alone cover-up the murder of someone as kind and generous as Zara Ideale.

Julius felt powerless.  Useless.  And in his current position he was.  But he swore he wouldn’t always be.  When he became Wizard King he would make sure nothing like this ever happened again.  He couldn’t seek justice for Zara.  But he could honor the mans memory by making the Magic Knights a better, safer, more welcoming organization for all people, no matter their societal rank.

Brows pinched together Teris uttered hoarsely.  “He was my friend, Juls. He had a son.”

Julius pulled her into a too tight hug.  His eyes squeezed shut.  A single tear escaped, rolling down his cheek to wet her hair.  “I know.  He was my friend too.”

79.2

A portal opened in the Black Bulls great room.  Jax tensed, the gateway similar but different from Bronn’s.  Fuegoleon stepped through with Randall and a group of other Magic Knights.  At the sight of two Purple Orcas, Jax cast a quick glance about the room.

“You!” Jax pointed and whispered harshly to the Purple Orcas.  “Go back the way you came.”  When the two stared wide-eyed and didn’t move, the Captain stepped to them and growled.  “Don’t think I’ll throw you through?  I said out!”

The Purple Orcas turned and slowly stepped back through the gateway just as Cob stepped through.

“Close it up.”  Jax commanded.

Cob looked back at the gateway.

“Now!” Jax ordered.

Confused as he was, Cob did as the Black Bulls Captain commanded.

Jax released a long exhale of relief.  The last thing he needed was Teris seeing two Purple Orcas in the base.  Looking at Cob, Jax told. “You’re lucky Bronn’s not here.  He’s territorial about people magicking into the base, and doesn’t like other Spatial Mages.  How’d you get in anyway?”

“Clearance.” Cob answered, cheerily.

Jax nodded.  He should have figured.  After all Cob worked for Magic Knights Headquarters.  He turned to the Crimson Lion’s acting Vice Captain.  “How’s Quince?”

“Still unconscious.”  Fuegoleon reported, holding out the mission order for Jax to take.

Jax skimmed it and handed it back.  “The geyser labyrinth, huh?  Then let’s find you Yami and Teris in a hurry.”

“Did you note Xerx and Revchi’s names on there?”  Fuegoleon questioned, referring to the two Purple Orcas Jax had ordered out and back through the portal.

“Drop the sarcasm acting Vice Captain.  It’s not going to happen.  You can have those two or you can my two Black Bulls.”  Jax said.

“Sir Jorah wrote the order and names himself.”  Fuegoleon told.

“I know the Wizard Kings hand.”  Jax said.  He turned to the Spatial Mage.  “Cob.  Fetch me Commander Greywright.  Quickly, please.”

“Righty’o.” Cob created a portal and stepped through.

“Bran!” Jax called, seeing the boy enter the room and immediately do an about face.  “Where’s Yami and Teris?”

Bran slowly turned back.  “Yami’s in the training room.  I think Teris is in the sun room.”

“Don’t think.  Know.  Go fetch Teris.”  Jax watched Bran disappear down another hallway.  He took in the Magic Knight’s gathered behind Fuegoleon.  It was quite a mix.  Randall from the Crimson Lions. Hamon and William from the Golden Dawn.  Charlotte and Fraya from the Blue Rose.  And Jack and En from the Green Mantis.

Knowing Jack was Yami’s friend.  If finding enjoyment from always fighting each other could be considered friendship.  Jax point at the Green Mantis then down the hallway.  “Jack.  Training room’s down that way.  Take the hall to the right.  First door on the left.  Go get the big lug.”  Thinking someone sensible should go along so Yami and Jack didn’t get caught up fighting, he added.  “Charlotte. Go with him.”

Fuegoleon stepped closer to Jax.  “Captain.  The geyser labyrinth--”

“I’m well aware the geyser labyrinth is only accessible for a set amount of time, acting Vice Captain.”  Jax interrupted.  More to himself, he went on.  “What’s curious is it opening up now.”

“Sir?” Fuegoleon blinked.

Jax smirked at the younger man and teased.  “What?  Didn’t know that the geyser labyrinth has been opening up like clockwork for hundreds of years and wasn’t set to do so for another two?”

Fuegoleon shook his head in answer.

Bran entered the great room with Teris.  “She was looking at the page of Chaos.”

“Traitor.” Teris glared.

Bran looked hurt.  “I only--”

“Teris!” Jax scolded.  “What’s the matter with you?”  He shook his head, waving off her excuse.  “I don’t have time for this.  The acting Vice Captain has a mission for you and Yami.”

“Acting Vice Captain?”  Teris echoed as Bran slunk off.

“You heard about Quince.  Did you expect Mereoleona to go without a Vice Captain?”  Jax questioned.

Teris looked at her cousin.  “You?”

“Just till Quince recovers.”  Fuegoleon said, too concerned about his Vice Captain to smile or be proud about the temporary position.

If he recovers, Jax thought.  From the sound of it, Quince was in a bad way.  Though the man was finally stabilized, he was still unconscious and the healers had no idea when or if he would wake up.

Greywright stepped through a portal.  “What is it, Jax?”  He frowned seeing the group of Magic Knights still present and followed the Black Bulls Captain in stepping away from them.

Yami arrived with Jack and a beet red Charlotte.

Concerned, Randall asked the Blue Rose.  “You feeling unwell?”

“I’m fine.”  Charlotte snapped.

Jack cackled.  “I think seeing Yami shirtless and doing pull ups with iron weights hanging from his waist might’ve been a bit much for her.”

“Dirty, disgusting...”  Charlotte voice tapered off, her face reddening further.

“Think she’s talking about you.”  Yami told Jack.

“I’m talking about the both of you!”  Charlotte scowled.

“Well now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings.  I took a bath this morning.” Yami said.

“Yeah. But after working out you stink now.”  Jack said.

Yami lifted an arm and sniffed.  Teris arched a brow at him.

Yami made his way to her, voice low and playful.  “What do you think, Princess?  Am I disgusting and dirty?”

“You could certainly use another bath.”  Teris remarked, admiring the way Yami’s shirt clung to his broad sweat drenched chest and chiseled abs.

“Maybe you could help me with that.”  Yami teased for her ears alone.

Thinking a change of subject was prudent, Teris asked.  “Did you know Leon was made acting Vice Captain?”

“Good for him.”  Yami circled around Teris and stood behind her.  His chest grazed her back with every inhaled, breath tickling her neck with every exhale.  “You smell delicious.”

“Stop it.”  Teris breathed, feet wanting to turn around, hands itching to touch him.

“You’re beautiful.”  Yami murmured, fingers trailing down her back where no one else could see.

“You’re hard.”  Teris shook her head at the mistake.  “I mean.  You’re making things hard.”

“You have no idea.”  Yami chuckled, hand sliding down to cup her ass.

Teris squeaked.  The gathered Magic Knight’s looked her way.  Yami chuckled again.  Hands slipping into his pants pockets, he took a step back from her.

Fuegoleon looked from Yami to Teris, noting the blush in his cousin’s cheeks. The acting Vice Captain shook his head.  Yami was a rogue.  A nuisance.  Fuegoleon would much rather have had Nozel on this mission.  He didn’t trust Yami to obey a Captain's commands, let alone his.  At least Teris was going, Fuegoleon thought, both grateful and disturbed that the foreigner seemed of bend to Teris’ will easily enough.

After a brief exchange with Jax, Greywright snapped, angry and annoyed. “Cob!  Go get two Silver Eagles.  I don’t care which.”  As Cob disappeared, the Knights Commander frowned at Jax.  “We’re wasting time.  The geyser labyrinth is only open for so long.”

“I know.”  Jax said.

“With it opening early, who knows if it’ll open when it’s suppose to.” Greywright said.

“Would you have rather I let it stay as it was?”  Jax questioned, quietly.

“Of course not.  Don’t be stupid.”  Greywright looked about.  “Where the hell is Cob with those Silver Eagles?”

“Geyser labyrinth?”  Teris looked at the Knights Commander and her Captain.

“That’s the mission.  We have-- Had six hours to get in.  Find the vault.  And get out before it closes back up.”  Fuegoleon told.

“Quit complaining.  You have the map showing the route those before you traveled.  You should find the vault easily enough.”  Jax told.

Greywright glanced at Jax knowing the Captain had been in the geyser labyrinth ten years ago when it opened at its scheduled time.  The place was a literal maze.  Hence the maps showing the routes previous explorers had taken.  And the command that current explores map their progress. No one knew how big the place was.  Only the entrance appeared when the labyrinth revealed itself.  But the mapped out portions hinted at the places massive scale.

“Seems the acting Vice Captain's afraid his first mission will be a failure.”  Jack cackled.

Teris made a face and turned away.  Yami saw her distaste and smirked.  He didn’t know why Teris didn’t like Jack.  Given that she couldn’t give him a straight answer when he asked her, Yami doubted Teris knew herself.

“I’ve been an acting Vice Captain before.  And had much success.” Fuegoleon reminded.

“Yami. Teris.”  Jax waved them over.

“Here it comes.”  Yami muttered, walking with Teris toward their Captain.

“I want you two back here as soon as the mission’s over.”  Jax said. “No delays.  No stops.  Straight.  Back.  Here.  Understood.”

“Why are you looking directly at me while you say that?”  Teris asked, already knowing the answer.

“Understood.” Jax repeated, unblinking gaze fixed on her.

Teris stared back.  Did her Captain really think she would head to the Purple Orcas base after this mission?  Now that she thought about it, the idea didn’t sound so bad.  She had no clue what she would do when she got there but she was she’d figure something out.

“Teris.” Jax prompted.

Teris rolled her eyes.  “Fine.”

“No. Not fine.”  Jax said.

“Understood.” Teris amended, snidely.

Jax's eyes narrowed.  He tried to recall if Teris had always been this difficult or if Yami was rubbing off on her a little too much.  He fixed his gaze on Yami.  “No deviations.  No delays.  You don’t let her out of your sight when the mission is over.  Knock her out and carry her back if you have to.”

Yami almost made a joke but took in the Captain's expression and Ki.  He shifted on his feet.  “Really?”

“Yes, Yami!  Really!”  Jax ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

Yami looked at Teris out of the corner of his eye.  It had only been four hours since he had seen both her and Jax at breakfast.  What had Teris done in that time to rile their Captain up like this?

“Jax. The Sliver Eagles are here.  Quit badgering your squad members and let them head out.”  Greywright told.

Cob opened a portal to the labyrinth.

Greywright looked at Fuegoleon.  “You have the countdown stones for each of the teams.  Vault or not, be on your way out with no less than an hour and a half remaining.  I don’t want anyone stuck in there when this thing disappears.  Got it.”

“Yes, Commander.”  Fuegoleon nodded.

Nozel and Neyres were sweaty and out of breath from their sparing session. The two Silver Eagles looked at their fellows wondering what was going on.

“I’ll explain as we head in.”  Fuegoleon told the Silver Eagles, leading them through the portal.

As soon as the group was gone Cob closed the portal.

Eyes on Jax, Greywright ordered the Spatial Mage.  “Wait outside if you would, Cob.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Cob said, cheerily.

When the front door closed behind Cob the Magic Knight’s Commander stormed.  “You told Teris it was Zara’s own squad?  What the hell were you thinking?”

Jax shook his head.  “I told Teris nothing.  She overheard Julius telling me what he heard some Purple Orcas say.”

Greywright frowned.  “Julius told me the same.”

“And?” Jax inquired.

“And what?  It’s hardly enough to bring them in for questioning.”

“They’re Magic Knights.”  Jax argued.  “We should expect questions. Especially when one of our own, a member of their squad, is killed. Zara didn’t die on some mission or battlefield.  The man was off duty--”

“We’re never off duty.”  Greywright cut over him.

“He was in his home.  His son was there.”  Jax said.

“And there might have been a different outcome if the boy had seen something.”  Greywright said.

“Who’s to say he didn’t?  Maybe he’s too afraid to talk.  Or has blocked it from his mind.  Did Ellara have a look?  Did any memory or communication mage?  Or are you all too afraid to look too hard cause you’ll have to do something about it?”

“Careful, Captain.”

“I mean Zara Ideale might’ve been a Magic Knight.  But like most of my squad, he wasn’t really one of you all.  Was he?  His life and service didn’t really matter.  Did it?  He was a commoner.  A peas--”

Greywright’s mana cloaked fist hit the stone wall.  Several large rocks crumbled and fell.  Cracks broke through the surrounding stones.  Spider web fractures splintered through the grout from ceiling to floor.  Voice dangerously calm, the Magic Knights Commander warned.  “Next time it’ll be your face.”

Jax stared at Greywright moment then lowered his gaze.

“The case is closed.”  Greywright said.  “Zara Ideale died in an unfortunate attack that we will never understand or have answers to. Magic Investigations combed the scene.  They spoke to everyone in town and interviewed his squad members.  It seems the man was loved by all.  He had no enemies.  No outstanding debts.  He rarely drank and didn’t gamble.  Everything he made went to provide for his son or help his less fortunate neighbors in and around the town he lived.”

“Julius heard--”

“Julius heard something that could’ve been anything.”  Greywright interrupted.  “He didn’t even see their faces.  What do you want, Jax?  You want us to question the entire Purple Orcas squad about something Julius overheard?  Even if anyone admits to being party to such a conversation it could easily be explained away as the most benign thing.”

“Ellara--”

“Isn’t going to enter the minds of upstanding Magic Knights so we can find out if they murdered one of their own.”  Greywright told.  “Do you have any idea the fuss that would cause?  Not just with the other Magic Knights but with the ranking classes?”

“If it were one of mine dead I’d freely volunteer if there was a chance justice could be served.”  Jax said.

“Leave it, Jax.  Do the smart thing.  Follow Julius’ lead.  Much as he doesn’t like it, he’s letting it go.  You need to do the same. You need to get Teris to do the same.  She’ll run into or have to work with someone from the Purple Orcas eventually.  I can’t be worrying about what she’ll do when that day comes.  She’s yours. Accident or not, you’re the reason she knows.  Fix it.”

“Knows what?”  Jax asked, latching onto the phrase.  “You said it was something we’ll never understand or know the answer to.  So what would she know?”

Greywright growled, mana rising again.  Did Jax think he liked this?  Refusing to dig deeper because of what they might find.  He was following orders.  And it wasn’t easy for Sir Jorah to make those orders. But the Wizard King did what he had to for the sake of the kingdom and the Magic Knights.  “Enough.  You’re beginning to make this difficult on me.”

“Good. It should be.”

“We live to defend and serve the kingdom and its people.  Sadly that comes with every sort of danger imaginable.  Even sadder.  Sometimes we die.”  Greywright said.

Jax shook his head.  “Not at home.  Not by attack from--”

“If you say ‘from one of our own’ Jax Jerren, I swear this squad will have a new Captain by the end of the hour.”

Teeth tightly clenched, a muscle in Jax’s jaw ticked.

The possible truth behind Zara Ideale’s death and Sir Jorah ordering the case closed with no findings had disenfranchised Greywright to the point he had seriously considered handing in his resignation. What further disturbed him was the reason that he hadn’t.  It had nothing to do with his promise to serve Sir Jorah until the man retired.  Nor was it because of anything the Wizard King had said. The reason Greywright remained was because of Julius’ suspicions about Ellara.  Greywright still had his doubts, but they weren’t as firmly held as they once had been.  If Ellara was working with the Agents of Chaos and using her magic to effect the Wizard King, Greywright couldn’t leave.  He owed it to Sir Jorah, to his Captain's and Magic Knight’s to make certain no one was controlling the Wizard King.

“It isn’t right.”  Jax said.

Shoulders slumped, Greywright turned toward the door.  “There’s a lot in this world that isn’t right.”

79.3

Yami stood beside Teris at the mouth of the geyser labyrinth.  He had thought that once away from Jax she would calm.  But the opposite happened.  Her mana flow becoming so rough and volatile he had to take a side step away from her to keep his harnessed.

Fuegoleon looked over the Magic Knights.  A spiteful, personal side of him wanted to put Yami and Teris on separate teams.  But like it or not, they worked better together.  And without Teris or someone Yami marginally respected, who would make Yami submit and obey?

Fuegoleon sighed and ordered.  “Yami.  Teris.  You’re with me and Randall.”

Nozel looked at the acting Vice Captain.  He wanted to challenge the call. But after the unquestioning support Fuegoleon had shown him during his time as acting Captain.  He didn’t feel it would be right.

Fuegoleon gave Nozel and Hamon, from the Golden Dawn, a time stone and copies of the mapped areas of the labyrinth.  “Nozel, you have Neyres, Charlotte, and Fraya.  Hamon, take William, Jack and En.  You heard Commander Greywright.  Vault or not.  Give yourselves at least an hour and a half to make your way back out.  Nozel, take the left split.  Hamon the center.”  He looked at Randall, Teris, and Yami. “We’ll take the right.  Be careful and good luck.”

The three teams entered the labyrinth and went their separate ways.

Fuegoleon, Yami, Randall, and Teris well into the labyrinth when Randall commented.  “It’s almost like we’re back in the Diamond Kingdom.”

“Hardly.” Fuegoleon said.

“Well, we’re missing Nozel and--”  Randall fell silent.

Teris glanced at the Crimson Lion.  “Can’t even say his name.”  Her nose wrinkled, lip curling.  “You disgust me.”

Fuegoleon watched his cousin take point despite her not having a map.  Randall made to speak, but the acting Vice Captain held up a silencing hand and shook his head.

Yami pulled up the rear, following in line behind Randall.  He looked up a head taking in Teris’ straight back and stiff shoulders, once again wondering what had gotten to her.  She had been fine this morning.  A little somber and more temperamental than usual, but much better than she had been during the first week after Zara’s death.  He knew she harassed Jax daily, inquiring what Magic Investigations had found and when the full report on Zara’s case would be filed and ready for viewing.  Maybe the report had come in and she hadn’t liked what it said?  But even if Magic Investigations hadn’t found the culprits. Whatever info they discovered might lead to finding them.  Teris might’ve been disappointed by such a report, but she wouldn’t be angry.

“To the right.”  Fuegoleon said, looking at the map.

Teris took the sharp left turn.

“I said right.”  When Teris didn’t turn back, Fuegoleon hurried his steps.  “Teris!”

Teris kept on walking.

Fuegoleon grabbed her arm and spun her around.  “ Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.  I said we’re going to the right.”

“That’s the wrong way.”  Teris said.

Fuegoleon waved the map in front of her.  “The map clearly shows--”

“Then the map is wrong.”  Teris said.

Fuegoleon took a breath, trying to control his rising temper.  “The map shows where those before us have traveled.  Someone already went the way you’re going.  There’s nothing down there.”

“There’s something definitely down there.”  Teris looked at the three men. “Do none of you sense it?  Really?”

“Sense what?”  Fuegoleon asked.

“Maybe it’s a beast or some left over trap.”  Randall offered, knowing a royals magical sense was far better.

Teris looked at Yami, hope and question in her eyes.

Yami stayed silent a moment, focusing his Ki and magical senses down the path.  He looked at Teris almost apologetically.  “I don’t sense anything.”

Teris’ shoulders sagged, even as she insisted.  “There’s something down there.”

“What sort of something?”  Fuegoleon asked, impatience making his voice sharp.  They didn’t have time for this.  They had already lost twenty minutes when Captain Jax had refused the Purple Orcas and called for Commander Greywright.

“I don’t know.  But it’s powerful.”  Teris said.

“A powerful trap or beast?”  Randall questioned.

“No.” Teris snapped.

“So you don’t know what it is, but you know what it isn’t.” Randall said.

“Leave her alone.”  Yami rumbled.  He looked at Teris.  “I believe you.”

“Well now I feel so much better.  Yami Sukehiro believes his girlfriend.” Randall drawled.

“Hush.” Fuegoleon commanded his friend.  He turned to his cousin.  “We’re turning around and going to the right.  That’s an order.  Don’t like it.  You can head back out and wait.”

“Fine.” Teris snapped.  She looked over her shoulder down the path then headed back to the main tunnel.

Fuegoleon gave a nod of satisfaction and led Yami and Randall in following her. Fuegoleon frowned when Teris didn’t head down the path he had instructed.  Teris turned back up the tunnel they had been traveling that would lead her back out.

Fuegoleon sighed, exasperated.  “You can’t be serious.”

“You told me to head back out if I didn’t like it.  Well, I don’t like wasting my time so I’m heading back out.”  Teris said.

Fuegoleon ground his teeth.  He didn’t have time for this.  “Stay just inside the entrance.”

Teris waved and continued on her way.  Yami passed Fuegoleon, following her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”  Fuegoleon questioned Yami.

Yami looked back over his shoulder.  “Do you really have to ask?  Good luck, acting Lion King.  Don’t die down here.  Or do.  See if I care.”

Fuegoleon spun around heading down the soft sloping curve to the right. “Randall.  Let’s go.”

Teris walked another hundred paces and stopped.

Yami halted a step behind her.  “You’re about to do something I would do.”

“Yeah well.  What can I say?  You’ve rubbed off on me.”  Teris replied.

Yami’s eyes lowered to take in her backside.

Teris turned around.  She a lifted an eyebrow.

Caught in the act of appreciating her form, Yami smirked.  “This is the part where you usually try to reason with me.  I should probably do the same.  But all I can think of is rubbing off on you some more.”

“Yami. Can you focus.”  Teris chided, lightly.

Yami looked her over.  “I am focused.”

“On finding out what’s down there.”  Teris said.

Yami slipped his hands into his pockets.  “Not sure that’s a good idea.”

“You said you believed me.”

“I do.  That’s not the problem.”

“Then what’s the problem?”  Teris questioned.

“We don’t have a map to mark and follow to get out.”  Yami said, knowing how easy such a thing could be worked around.

“We can set blazes in the rock.”  Teris said.

“And we don’t have a time stone telling us how much time’s left before this thing closes up and disappears.”  Yami said.

Teris paused at that.

The fact that she was still considering doing this.  The fact that she had planned on doing it at all.  It told Yami that whatever she felt down there was pretty strong and inciting.

Looking about the tunneled cave, Yami sighed.  “Tell you what.  I’m gonna round the time remaining down to four hours.  And we have to head back out with two hours left.”

“Two! Greywright and Fuegoleon said an hour and a half.”

Yami crossed his arms.  “So now you want to listen to the Lion Cub?”

Teris looked away.

“That leaves you two hours, Princess.”

“Me?” Teris questioned.

Yami grinned.  “Don’t worry.  You’re not getting rid of me that easily.  But I’m following your lead on this.”

“Thank you.”  Teris smiled.

“You’re gonna owe me something big for this.”  Yami told.

“I’m alright with that.”

Yami grew serious.  “Soon as I call time we head back.  No arguments, Teris.  I have no problem hauling you out carried over my shoulder.

Teris gave a nod.  “Deal.”

“Let’s go.”  Yami sighed, already regretting this.

Teris set the blazes into the rock while Yami focused on keeping his breathing even as his counted down their time.  They had walked for roughly an hour and a half, and never once happened upon a trap.  It seemed as if someone had indeed come this way as there were faded blazes set into the stone.  As for creatures.  It was possible they sensed the same thing Teris did; but unlike her, were repelled by it.

“Thirty minutes left.”  Yami told.

Teris continued walking without a word.

Yami scrutinized her as he followed.  He wondered what she would do if time was up before she reached whatever it was she sensed.  Yami had begun to feel something as well.  Though it had happened so slowly, like a rising sun, that he couldn’t say exactly when the feeling begun.  It was sort of a teasing tickle of warmth.  He wanted to ask Teris more about what she sensed.  What it felt like.  How she knew something was there.  But he didn’t want to disrupt his breathing and mess up his counting of time.  He had rounded up every so often preferring to have them head back with more than two hours remaining rather than less.  He just hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in agreeing to this.  It was almost as if Teris was in a sort of trance. He should have made her promise.  Deals could be broken. Renegotiated.  But promises.  They had yet to break a promise they had made to each other.

As they went on Yami began to squint though he didn't know why.  The tunnel was no different.  The surrounding magical glow providing just enough light to see.  A sort of hum rang in his ears, distant but constant.  He began to sweat, the coolness of the labyrinth turning uncomfortably warm.

A sense of foreboding squeezed at Yami’s gut.  “We should head back.”

“How much time is left?”  Teris asked.

“Teris--”

“How much time?”  Teris persisted.

“Five minutes.”  Yami told.

“Then give me five minutes.”  Teris said, without glancing his way.

Yami took her hand as they turned another sharp corner, not wanting her out of sight or out of reach.  The turn led to a dead end.

The tempting, more sensed than heard, whisper that had first lured Teris down the left path had grown louder and more insistence the closer they drew.  Frustratingly, the voice hadn’t gotten any clearer. She still couldn’t understand what it said.  As soon as she came face to face with the stone dead end the voice had ceased, leaving a distant ringing hum in her ears.  As if her ears were trying to compensate for the voices absence.

Yami released her hand and placed his hand on the small of her back. “Time’s up, Teris.  Let’s go.”

“It’s here!  Just behind this wall.”  Teris said.

Yami frowned.  He didn’t doubt something was on the other side.  But his gut told him it was something they shouldn't mess with.  “I believe you.  We just don’t have time to break a wall down.  We have to head back.”

“But...” Teris fell silent.  Her hands pressed flat against the solid stone barrier.

Yami fought the urge to pull her back from the rock face.  He didn’t know why he was so unnerved.  “Come on, Teris.  You agreed.”

Teris stared at the wall willing something to happen.  Something to show itself.  She urged the wall to disappear.  Or the voice to return. Anything.  But nothing happened.  There was no doubt that something was on the other side.  Maybe it wasn’t meant for her.

Teris sighed in frustration.  “Fine.”

Yami relaxed then immediately tensed.  Teris looked back at him, feeling it too.  It started as a low vibration and quickly built.  The cave floor and surrounding walls quaking.  Yami reached for Teris but was too late.  The wall came alive, swallowing her.

“Teris!” Yami pulled his katana from its scabbard.  Cloaking it in darkness and himself in mana skin, he called upon all his strength and slashed out at the rock face in three quick successions.

79.3.2

“Yami!” Teris pounded on the rock wall.

She stepped back and raised a hand to blast a hole through the stone face.  A rustling caught her attention.  She turned, eyes darting around the enclosed space.  A skeletal corpse rose up from the ground.  Teris directed an outstretched palm at the mummified figure.

“I’d rather not hurt you.”  Teris said, a faint waver to her voice. Frightful as it was to see a dead body come to life,  the scholarly side of her couldn’t help but look on in wonder.  Could a living dead body feel pain?  Was it even still a person?  “I just want to get out of here.”

The corpses jaw fell open.  A bright golden light emanated from its mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for you.  Ray of Annihilation.”  A voice rasped in Teris’ head.

The hair on Teris’ neck stood on end.  She had been called ‘Ray of Annihilation’ before.  Once when Iban used his magic against her. And again by Alowishus Spade.  Yet it wasn’t the title that made her skin prickle.  It was the corpses voice.  It resonated with something inside her, carrying a familiarity.

“Who are you?  Why did you call me here?”  Teris demanded.

Again the voice, as dry and brittle as the mummified body standing before her, sounded in Teris’ head.  “I am the Light Bringer.  The Harbinger.  I called you here so I could fulfill my destiny and finally rest.”

Teris stepped back.  Her outstretched hand half lowered.  Her other hand reached behind her, touching the wall that had swallowed her.  “Why call me?”

“The Lord of Destruction is coming.”  The voice rasped like dry sand swirling in the wind.

“He’ll tear this place apart trying to get to me.”  Teris said.

“He will do much more than that for you.  And you for him.”

“Are you similar to the page of Chaos?”  Teris asked.

“I was a girl.  Blessed with light magic but not Light itself.”

Teris’ hand lowered fully, curious interest overshadowing wary concern. “You’re referring to the primordial forces the Agents of Chaos are obsessed with.”

“You hold the creation of Life and Chaos.  You are Light given form. Death’s greatest enemy.”

“By Death, you mean Alowishus Spade?  He has death magic.”

“Death needs you to wield his creation to his will.  Death and Chaos made the Darkness.  But only Light can bend Darkness.  Only Darkness can shape Light.  Light cannot exist without Darkness.  Nor can Darkness exist without Light.”

“What does Spade want?”  Teris asked.

“That is not my reasoning.”

“Then what do you want?  Why did call me here?”

“I am the Light Bringer.  The Harbinger.  I called you here so I could fulfill my destiny and finally rest.”

“Yeah. You said that already.”  Teris readied her stance.  “Get on with it then.  Fulfill your destiny.”

“I nearly have.”

Teris looked herself over, taking stock.  She felt no different.  Looked no different.  Lifting her gaze, she looked at the corpse.  “No offense.  But if you’re my Harbinger.  How is it that you’re locked up in here, nothing but a dried up husk?”

“I am the Light Bringer.  The Harbinger of Darkness.  I called you here so I could fulfill my destiny and finally rest.”

A cold prickle shot up Teris’ spine.  Her heart clenched, even as it raced.  “You said nothing about being the Harbinger of Darkness the first two--”

Teris stopped.  Her breath fogged, the air suddenly filled with a permeating cold.  Her feet shifted at an invisible pull.  As if the earths natural gravity was unseated.  The constant, steady tug came from the stone wall.  No.  It came from who was on the other side of the stone wall.

“Yami.” Teris breathed.  She stepped to the corpse.  “Let me out!”

The glow within the skeletons mouth dimmed.  “I can finally rest.”

The mummified remains collapsed into a pile of ash.  Teris spun to face the rock wall, hand lifted to incinerate the barrier.  But the wall broke apart before she could call upon her magic.  The once solid slab of stone exploded out in a mass of pulverized rock.  Before it could reach her, the debris was sucked back by the new gravity field.

“Yami!” Teris rushed to him only to skid to a halt.

Yami’s warm tan eyes had been replaced by black bottomless pools reminiscent of the small black holes he created with his magic.  He had his own gravity field which was growing stronger by the second.  Teris’ arms pinwheeled, her boots sliding along the ground, pulled closer to him.  She created a magical sword of light and thrust it into the rock floor, holding on to stop from being drawn in.

Yami radiated a biting cold that burned as badly as any heat Teris could create.  Teris’ hands dried and cracked in the bitter air.  The skin around her knuckles split open; blood freezing before it could spill.  Her cramping hands lost all sensation.  Fingertips turning blue, then purple.

Teris stared at her love.  What had she done?  This was all her fault.  If only...  “Yami.  I’m sorry I led us here.  Please.  Please, come back to me.”

Inky black waves rolled off Yami like smoke from a hearth.  The wisps of darkness consuming everything they touched.  The tangible dark plumes squeezed the space, choking the air out of the cavern.  The light of Teris’ magical sword began to dim.  Not because Teris’ mana was draining.  But because of the void Yami was producing.  It was smothering her magics light faster than the light could cast.

“Yami! Please!  I can’t do this without you.  I need you.  I love you.  I came back to you.  Please!  Come back to me!”

Even more quickly than Yami had broken through the wall, the darkness emanating from him pulled in on itself like the snap of a bow string. Teris was lifted off her feet, yanked horizontal to the ground. Cloaked in mana she held onto her wavering sword of light hoping it and her strength held.  Boulders bigger than Pilfer and No Name broke off from the cavern walls and went flying.  Sucked up into the retreating darkness.

In a fraction of an instant the darkness and its immense pull were gone. Teris fell to the stone floor with a thud, magic sword and mana skin disappearing.  Yami’s eyes returned to their natural tawny brown. Breathing heavily Teris rolled over.  She already loved Yami’s warm, tender eyes but decided in that moment that they were most beautiful color in existence.

“I told you.  Let’s go.”  Yami’s eyes slipped closed as he spoke the last two words.

Teris rushed forward and caught him.  Or at least tried to.  They fell together as she tried but was unable to bare his weight, too shaken and weakened.

“Yami. I’m so sorry.”  Teris pulled his torso onto her lap, hugging him close.

A great rumble sounded.  The entire space trembling with its vibration. Teris looked about, body shielding Yami’s unconscious form.  The labyrinth couldn’t be closing.  Could it?  That much time hadn’t passed.  Had it?

The geyser labyrinth had a powerful mana coursing through it that hindered ones magic.  As such Teris hadn’t been able to light travel.  But that overwhelming mana had disappeared.  Teris didn’t take the time to wonder how such a disrupting mana pool could come from a mummified corpse.  Nor did she think on anything that had occurred.

Holding onto Yami, Teris light traveled.  They appeared on a grassy knoll a couple hundred meters away from the labyrinths entrance just as the entrance crumbled and disappeared.  She had a moment of relief at seeing the others standing a ways from the vanished entrance.  Glad they had made it out safely.  Then she fell over on top of Yami, succumbing to hypothermia.

Wishing you all a Happy Christmas and/or Happy Holiday's.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

Greywright cleared his throat.  This was becoming uncomfortable even for him. And the Magic Knights Commander had both seen and given his fair share of dressing downs over the years.  Even though Yami had played a part and stood beside Teris, Jax mainly addressed his scathing remarks to Teris.  Greywright wondered how much longer the two could take it.  Though they both remained at attention.  Teris seemed to sink further and further with every word.  While Yami’s muscles tensed and trembled, hands balling into fists.

[darkpoisonouslove]

2, 8, 9, 10, 15 📝 asks

2. What is your approach to world building?

Well, that’s easy. I wait and see what my brain will vomit at me and then try to find a way to connect everything so that it makes sense. Any initiative from my side is expressed in just thinking about stuff I want to include and throwing it all in only to start stirring and trying to find a way to make it all fit together. If it’s fic we’re talking about and it’s an AU, I will try to pick a starting point (if my brain hasn’t done it already) and from there figure out what the story needs by looking for parallels to canon and just feeling for what is right. It is all pretty intuitive. I just catch a thread from the tapestry before me that I can’t even see and start feeling my way up, down and sideways until I’ve made it through the whole image and can actually put something comprehensive on the sheet.

8. What’s your philosophy on writing romantic relationships?

Um... banter? Sarcasm? Joking around with each other? Honestly, I am not all that sure HOW I write romance. It just happens. I guess one thing that is a constant in writing romantic relationships is trust. That is what I put in the core of every romantic relationship I write and it all goes from there based on how much/little of that there is and what are the reasons behind the shifts in that. It doesn’t have to be trust in each other necessarily. It can be trust in themselves, in the relationship, in the circumstances, in the universe, etc. That starts creating a conflict in the story and that is pretty much all that is important to me in a story - the conflict. There has to be something that is creating struggle and tension - not necessarily inside the relationship but concerning it in some way in order to make the characters start reacting and turning the cogs of the relationship between them. The best way to really show a relationship is to push it into motion and make the characters work with and for it.

9. How do you write kissing scenes?

I sigh, repeat how much I don’t want to do it, try to resist the temptation to bang my head against the wall, spend way too much time thinking about it until words have lost all meaning, get fed up, bullshit my way through it, then sob when I realize that I will have to get back to it and fix it later on. I try to think about the feelings that it expresses and try to make sure everyone has exactly two hands - no more, no less. I get outraged when I know I am not done and I need yet another paragraph even though I don’t know what to put in it. I think about it some more. I curse myself for deciding to be a writer. I decide I am done with it and I don’t care how well it has turned out because it will have to do since kisses are literally my least favorite things to write about... I think I need to try a more minimalistic approach when it comes to kissing. Or at least, like... more concise. Aka I have to stop overthinking everything and go with the instinctive approach. Works for everything else, might work for that as well because the current approach is just torture. You tell me how well that is shown/hidden in the ready product. I’m sorry if this sounds like a joke. I am absolutely serious. I dread kissing scenes because I never know what to do with them.

10. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

I flip a coin. XD Okay, that was a joke. I haven’t perfected a foolproof system yet. Sometimes it just feels natural to end a chapter somewhere and other times I have actually planned the whole thing well, meaning that I know what the arc for that chapter is and end the chapter when I think the arc is complete. And other times, I use the chaotic approach and end it at a place I think will create tension and trepidation for the next chapter. Honestly, endings either come to me or I have to force them on the page. Left to Heritage, for example, was a goddamn beast when it came to the ending because I knew WHERE it had to end but I didn’t know HOW to end it. One of my kinktober entries was running overly long and I caught myself just writing useless paragraphs so I had to delete the last three or four and finish the damn sentence before that. It didn’t feel like a good ending but it was certainly better than when the text was running away from me. Usually, the idea is to end a chapter when it feels enough. Either I have said everything I have to say or I don’t think I should say more just yet. However, that is not always true. In A Home You Never Knew How to Have I had to split a couple of chapters in twos because they were getting obscenely long and that was not really done in a “correct” manner but I tried to look for a place where the split wouldn’t feel like you’re falling off a bridge that hasn’t been finished but would feel like you’ve stopped at a gas station to get yourself a drink and an ice cream/chocolate... croissant... I think it is time to end this chapter. XD

15. If you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

Hmm, specific to me... I am pretty content with the development of my writing skills on a technical level so I think that I would say to myself “Don’t take pride in your stories, take joy in them.” When you feel like you have done something so well, when you think of a story as an accomplishment and then it doesn’t get the response you were hoping for, it feels like your accomplishment is invalidated and it starts getting boggled down with all those negative feelings. Instead, if you look at the stories as sources of emotions, it makes that almost impossible because everyone reacts differently to the same emotions and you can never talk about objectivity when it comes to them. It makes it a lot easier to shrug off things like that because the story has already fulfilled its purpose - to bring you joy (or tears) and putting it out in the world can only bring more of that if it also manages to do the same for someone else. I think that detaching your ego from your work can be a wonderful thing for both the writer and the writing because it makes everything about the process, not the product. And the process is the product in a way. A story written with heart and passion will always be more touching than a story that’s written as some sort of a contest entry to prove your skills. I am astounded by how long it took me to get to this point and I think it will be hard to start actually adopting this view and implementing it when it comes to writing simply because of the way I have been taught to do everything - to realize my potential and achieve what hasn’t been achieved yet. Really, the superiority complex has been woven in me through my upbringing from the very start and it will take a lot of effort to disentangle it from my brain and my fingers but I think it can only do me good to get used to the idea that my worth does not depend on my creations and the response they get. I am not here to impress anyone but myself. And I impress myself with every single sentence I write with the love it reveals for the story, for the characters, for the writing itself and for myself by expressing my inner world instead of hiding it as if it shouldn’t see the light of day. And I would also tell my younger self to watch the usage of “when” and a couple other words because it got extremely excessive at one point and I am still mad about how long it took me to notice that. Though, I guess that was just from excitement to get the story out and I need to let it go as a first step towards that new process of writing I am aiming for.

This got pretty rambly and not very concrete but it got me thinking about upgrades I need to make to my writing process so thank you for sending this!