#is it a well designed attack? probably not but at least i can dodge her no hit while naked with a just a stick

[dimitrscu]

watching radahn glazers defend the final boss fight with their life is so funny to me because these are the same people who laughed at malenia enjoyers back in the day for saying she’s a good fight

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #317: Okita Souji Saber Alter

congratulations on surviving to summer, everyone! today on Grailfinders we’re starting off our summer right with Okita Souji Alter (Saber)! is she even really an alter at this point? whatever! she’s still a Horizon Walker Ranger to cut through space and time, but we also have to pick up Rengoku from daycare! Echo Knight was tempting, though they don’t really fight separately, and while he is a sentient sword, I feel a little warlock’d out… let’s go Strength Cleric instead. I promise this will make sense as we go. probably.

check out their build breakdown below the cut, or their character sheet here!

next up: GODDAMN HOT

Race and Background

second time, same stuff. Okita is still a Custom Race, custom designed to fight in a single battle. and to hang out on the beach, I guess. she’s also still a Far Traveler. all that together gives her +2 Dexterity, some Darkvision to nae-nae on her regular saber self, and proficiency with Insight and Perception. she also gets the Mobile feat for free, giving you an extra 10 of movement per turn, the ability to ignore difficult terrain while dashing, and you prevent opportunity attacks from creatures you’ve tried to attack this turn. this Okita actually wears armor this go around, so we couldn’t really get the monk speed boost again- that makes every inch of extra movement we get all the more important.

Ability Scores

your highest score should be in Wisdom. counter guardians have usually spent a little time in the future, so you have more information than most servants. normally that would be high intelligence, but really the difference between intelligence and wisdom are negligible and we need the latter wayyy more. after that, Dexterity. even though you wear “armor” now, it only covers half your body, so dodging is always in vogue. third is Charisma. you’re like three different flavors of warlock, even if we’re not getting levels from it. plus, you have a kid now, kids are cute. after that is Constitution. you’re mostly here to be a looper, but you’re less sickly than Okita. not that that’s saying much. that means our Strength isn’t great- don’t worry, we’ll get something to make it worthwhile later- and we’re dumping Intelligence. you’re pretty spacey, and while that would normally be wisdom, we need that for more than multiclassing this time around.

Class Levels

1. Ranger 1: starting as a ranger gets you proficiency in two saves as well as three skills, one more than usual. your Strength and Dexterity saves are great, as are your Athletics checks to run faster, Stealth Checks to move invisibly, and your Investigation checks to figure out who the hell you’re fighting. most times FGO characters are pretty forthright with their true names, but that’s no reason to rest on your laurels.

first level rangers can also pick out a Favored Foe when you attack them, marking the enemy for a minute and dealing extra damage once a turn when you attack them. you can do this proficiency times per day, and the damage increases as you level up. I’d call this “worse hunter’s mark”, but it does free up spell slots. and is worse.

you’re also Canny with Athletics now, so that’s a double proficiency bonus on all your checks. at least you won’t fall on your face while running at mach 10.

2. Ranger 2:second level rangers pick their Fighting Style, and Dueling will improve your shortsword’s damage so it’s more Rengoku-y. we’re not going for a longsword this time since we can’t monk it into a finesse weapon, and also because we need our hand free for Rengoku. who is also holding a sword in their hand. Honestly two weapon fighting wouldn’t be a bad pick either.

anyways, you also get Spells this level, which you cast using your Wisdom. Hunter’s Mark adds extra damage to all your weapon attacks against a specific target, and hits harder than FF, and can be swapped to another enemy if the first dies before the spell does. the downside is it will eat up your bonus action a lot of the time. if you’d rather only worry about hitting once and still getting that d6 of damage every turn, you can use a Searing Smite, spicing up your sword and dealing fire damage on a hit, plus an additional d6 of fire each turn the target fails a constitution save or doesn’t use its action to put itself out.

3. Ranger 3: at third level your Primeval Awareness gives you knowledge about whether or not there are any weird creatures nearby by spending a spell slot. it doesn’t tell you where they are, so it’s not that great, but Okita can’t talk to dogs, I think.

on the plus side, she also becomes a Horizon Walker, giving her a bunch of extra spells to make up for it thanks to her Horizon Walker Magic. right now you get Protection from Evil and Good for free to defend against higher-tier servants, but more will come as we go.

you can also Detect Portal once per short rest, telling you exactly where the nearest portal is in a mile around you. I guess a hole in reality is a lot easier to find than a dragon.

you’re also a Planar Warrior once again, letting you spend a bonus action to call your shot, turning your next attack against a specific creature into force damage, and dealing an extra d8 of damage to boot.

you also get one more first-level spell this level, so pick up Longstrider to stride even longer. it doesn’t even use concentration, so you that’s a worry-free extra 10 feet of movement for up to an hour.

4. Ranger 4: use your first Ability Score Improvement to round up your Wisdom score with the Resilient feat. this also makes you proficient with wisdom saves. that’s magic resistance, baby!

5. Ranger 5: speaking of magic, fifth level rangers learn second level spells. Misty Step is free, and it lets you move so fast it’s like you’re teleporting! (it’s because mechanically, you are) you can also turn Rengoku into a Magic Weapon now, adding +1 to their attack and damage rolls, plus sidestepping all those pesky resistances to nonmagical attacks.

but uh, we still haven’t gotten Rengoku yet, have we? the baby, I mean. let’s deal with that.

6. Cleric 1: calling the amassed survival instinct of humanity a god is probably a stretch, but Alaya’s cool enough that I’ll let it slide. after all, that’s where you get your Strength from, right?

as an Acolyte of Strength you have proficiency with heavy armor, as well as a free proficiency (Survival) and a free druid cantrip (Thunderclap). that’s all well and good, but we’re here more for the spell list. oh right, you get another Spell list, it still uses your Wisdom, check the PHB to see how many slots you have at a given point.

Guidance and Resistance will make you a little better than everyone else in either your skill checks or saves, while Light helps us get the special effects on your flashier attacks.

you also get some free first level spells. Divine Favor adds radiant damage to all your weapon attacks for a minute- it’s weaker than hunter’s mark, but if you’re fighting undead or just like, a ton of weak guys, this is easier to swap enemies on. if you’re going on defense, Shield of Faith can give you +2 AC for up to ten minutes, and you can even use it on allies. it’s hard to hit someone when a swaby (sword baby) is in the way.

you can also prepare spells of your choosing each time you wake up- Inflict Wounds is one of the fastest and simplest ways to turn spell slots into damage, especially at low levels.

7. Cleric 2: at level two, clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest, picking between two different flavors- Turn Undead forces a wisdom save on undead creatures, making them run away. the real selling point here is your Feat of Strength, however. with this, you can add a +10 bonus to not only an Attack Roll, but any strength check or save as part of the roll. it’s a straight upgrade from the War cleric, though I admit war’s bonus action attack does admittedly map to rengoku better. if your DM doesn’t like Amonkhet or you just want a more vanilla d&d experience, war is a good substitute for strength.

8. Cleric 3: at third level you gain second level cleric spells, including your freebies Enhance Ability and Protection from Poison, two spells clerics already had. again, we’re here for the spells you can choose, like Augury to use some future info to your advantage, or Spiritual Weapon to let Rengoku run wild.

9. Cleric 4: use this next ASI to bump up your Dexterity for more defense and more accurate swordings. you can also use another cleric cantrip now, like Toll the Dead. I don’t particularly care for the flavor on this one, but you’re pretty offensively oriented, and tolling someone who is already injured deals damage, and that’s the name of your game. actually it’s Fate, but hush.

10. Cleric 5: at fifth level your turn undead turns into Destroy Undead, instantly killing any zombe of CR ½ or lower who gets got by your channel divinity. I haven’t seen Okita fight a zombie before, but maybe that’s why she wasn’t invited to the horror movie camp.

we also get third level spells this level including the ultimate mobility tool Haste. it doubles your movement speed, increases your AC, and buffs your dex saves, plus it gives you an extra action to smack stuff or dash. it’s good shit. sure, you need to take a turn off when it drops, but it’s summer! you should be relaxing anyway. you also get Protection from Energy for free, it’s not quite invincibility, but we’re working on it. you can also summon Spirit Guardians around you, dealing damage when its not your turn and slowing down foes. letting Rengoku off the leash is fun, but it’s probably a good idea to keep them close, yknow?

11. Ranger 6: at sixth level, your favored foe becomes stronger, so now it’s half as good as hunter’s mark! you’re also Roving, giving you another five feet of movement speed plus a climbing and swimming speed, perfect for summer!

12. Ranger 7: seventh level horizon walkers have an Ethereal Step, giving you one turn of Etherealness. for this turn you can move without worrying about the bounds of gravity, or anything else really. on the ethereal plane, only other ethereal things and people can affect you, allowing you to pass through walls for a turn. just be careful where you land, if you end your turn inside an object, you will take damage.

if you’d rather just make it look like you teleported, you can Pass Without Trace. this gives your whole party a massive boost to their stealth checks, and you don’t leave footprints anymore! it won’t help you move faster, but you’ll definitely be light on your feet!

13. Ranger 8: at eighth level you get another ASI, so become a War Caster. rangers don’t get a lot of spells, so getting advantage on concentration saves to keep your damage buffs up is huge. also, if you go the two-handed rengoku path you can now cast spells with both hands full of sword. on top of that, you can cast spells instead of making an attack of opportunity, as long as it only targets the triggering creature.

you also have Land’s Stride. now you can… ignore plants! and their difficult terrain. base ranger is so bad y’all I s2g

14. Ranger 9: moving on from that travesty, third level spells again! you get Haste for free yet again, but you can also cast Water Walk now. it’s a shame you can’t have both of these up at a time, but even with haste you can’t monk your way over water. it’s coolness vs. practicality, a tale as old as time.

15. Ranger 10: tenth level rangers are Tireless, so proficiency times a day you can gain temporary HP as an action, plus you heal from exhaustion on short rests now too! that’s nice, summer’s too short to sleep. so is Fall and winter tbh, and I have my doubts about spring… I am so tired.

anyway! you can also hide in Nature’s Veil as a bonus action, making you invisible for a round. it’s kind of like your skill 3, right? you can do this proficiency times per day, and it wont break when you attack, so I guess this is your noble phantasm! well, not quite yet, we still need…

16. Ranger 11: Distant Strike is your penultimate power from your subclass, allowing you to teleport before each attack you make as part of your attack action. additionally, if you attack two different creatures with your attack action, you get a third attack against a third creature.

you can also Conjure Barrage now. I don’t know why you can summon magic attacks in your third ascension, but dammit if it doesn’t look cool.

17. Ranger 12: use your final ASI to max out your Dexterity for the most ac and the most stabby stabbings you can stab.

18. Ranger 13: thirteenth level rangers get fourth level spells. Banishment is neat, it kind of fits in with the planet protector vibe you’ve got going, but the prize here is Guardian of Nature. with this spell, you can turn into one of two natural monsters. the great tree is nice, but we’re here entirely for the Primal Beast, which gives you a faster walking speed, increased darkvision, advantage on strength-based attacks so… whoops on that one, and you deal extra force damage on each melee hit, no marks required. it’s not a huge improvement over other spells you have, but it is all those spells put together.

19. Ranger 14: as a fourteenth level ranger your favored foes take a d8 of extra damage, and you can Vanish as a bonus action. it’s hiding, it’s just hiding. you also can’t be tracked by nonmagical means, but if your enemies are still using nonmagical means by level 19 your DM is doing something wrong.

20. Ranger 15: our final level comes with our final horizon walker goody, the Spectral Defense. whenever you take damage, you can react to gain resistance to that attack’s damage this turn. that’s how you can wear armor and still only have it cover your legs.

you also have Freedom of Movement now. I know you can already teleport, but that’s a once per day thing! with freedom of movement you can break through shackles easily while saving your big guns for later.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

much like the… can we really call Okita Alter the original here? the “original but not quite completely”, I guess, you’re pretty hard to hit, being able to teleport all over the place. add in your myriad of teleportations and invisibility, and just keeping a bead on you is near-impossible. you also have more ways to gain resistance to damage this time around, though missing out on evasion is pretty rough.

while you’re not a kensei monk anymore, you do still have access to some accurate attacks, thanks in part to your maxed out dexterity as well as your Feat of Strength. sure it only works on one hit, but so do most of your ranger damage will be in that one anyway- the extra attack is really there for consistency.

Rangers tend to do best when focusing on a single target, but you specialize in dealing damage in crowds, especially with cleric providing you Divine Favor to deal extra damage to everything instead of your chosen target. Moving from person to person also gives you even greater mobility than you already had!

Cons:

part of the reason we went cleric was to get your clunkier armor, but you don’t really have the strength to pull off anything that isn’t completely out-classed by your own dexterity. Cleric has plenty of other goodies to make up for it, but not being able to properly enter one of your ascensions is rough.

your spells are also middling at best, especially if you’re playing to character and mostly using the ranger ones. seriously, Conjure Barrage is entirely there to fill a quota. Cleric has an amazing spell list, but it doesn’t get used much here. if you’re playing at home, definitely feel free to branch out.

you’re a lot slower than the previous okitalter, and while more than sixty feet a turn is a little excessive in most situations, horizon walkers actually have a chance to use that speed effectively- Ethereal Step gives you a chance to fly for a turn, but every foot up or down costs two feet of movement. you’re still going to be faster than most of the party, but just barely.

[ohshy]

Just so ya know you’ve asked for it

WHO’S YOUR TOP 3 FAVORITE BOXERS

MAY WE SEE THE WOMEN’S CIRCUIT AND WHOSE DESIGN ARE YOU MOST PROUD DOF FROM THAT

And finally who would be trusted to watch your kid to watch your children most to least with both men and women circs (hypothetically)

(Giving an anon emoji sign off bc why not statue of litterby )

-🗽

ALRIGHT BUCKLE UP ANON AND THE REST thisll b a long one

king hippo (Duh)

von kaiser

hmmmm thats a tough one uhhhh probably either bear hugger, disco kid, aran ryan or soda popinksi !! but id i had to pick, rn itd b (joe biden voice) SODA !!!!

and now for the womens circuit !!!!

Ok so... starting with the challenger, Cassidy Cornfield !

hailing from farley, iowa, shes a little off her rocker. She believes she was put on earth by aliens to box. Though, this is likely just smth she made up as a result of a vivid dream she had when chowing down one too many corn nobs! Speaking of corn, she WILL talk your ear off about all the supposed ‘’proof’’ she has of alien existence, like the crop circles that show up frequently around her hometown. That being said, she IS determined to prove herself for her alien overlords, so prepare for a challenge!

She's modeled after glass corn, which looks like this (thanks to charlie for that idea !!):

Other details include...

her full name is Cassidy C. Campbell (she won't tell what the C stands for)

she's of irish/cherokee descent

they are a tiny straw weight standing at 5'2 feet and weighing 90 lbs, and an adult little mac trains her !!

Speaking of little mac, unlike him, she had to wait a year to get her boxing license for her 18th birthday. She simply doesn't look old for her age😔 Poor girl still gets handed the childrens menu at restaurants as well!

Her gimmick is that when charged with enough punching power, she can unleash a painful series of punches known as the ‘’Glass corn combo’’. think hondo rush, except like the star punch, it cant be countered, only avoided.

Next up, Beauty Bling !!!

All bling and no brawn !

I've posted her bio before, so i'll keep it brief; basically shes macho man's fame monger younger sister, and unfortunately for her, shes all bling and no brawn! Despite herself though, she's no quitter! She once pulled many all nighters trying to figure out computer science, and now it's one of her biggest hobbies !

other little factoids about her are...

her full name is Brittany Anita Jones

Cis woman, she/her

shes mixed white/native hawaiian (i hc macho to be white/native hawaiian as well).

She's modeled after 00s/y2k fashion

talks like a valley girl

talks on her phone during intermissions. will either b calling her dad or her friends.

Gimmick: Similarly to glass joe, she has poor defense and rarely attacks. Her special attack is her stepping back, moving a hand through her hair, and saying ''Ready to be punched in style?'' and releasing a very easily avoidable uppercut.

Will also say ''rude!'' when you avoid her punch

Next... Axelerator !!!!

The Mighty Mechanic!

This Welsh wrestling-watching mechanic from Cardiff packs a meaner punch than his predecessor ! Too bad this motor mouth gets so excited he can’t resist calling out his attacks every time he throws a punch ! But hey, gotta put on a good show, just like those cool wrestlers on tv !

other factoids about him...

his full name is Axel Cadogan

21 years old

hes a cis woman but goes by he/him pronouns bc hes swag like that

stands at 5 foot tall and weighs 220 lbs.

he wears a mechanic outfit as his boxing uniform.

Gets flustered really damn easily. Especially around hot women. 

Gimmick: Basically a huge motor mouth (haha geddit) who calls out all of his attacks, and gives you plenty of time to avoid them. You do gotta watch out which way you dodge, though. Next up, Silver Hook and Scallywag !!!!!

The Meanest Hook Of The Seven Seas !

Ever since she was a little girl, she wanted to be just like the pirates from the stories she read all the time. This of course, includes having a parrot, which she affectionately named Scallywag. Unfortunately, Scallywag keeps running her mouth and telegraphing her owner’s moves ! Despite this, however, Silver can’t stand the thought of not having her emotional support parrot by her side. 

Other factoids about her:

Her real name is Maria Bermudez

Cis woman, she/her

shes 29 years old

stands at 6'2 feet and weighs 200 pounds

from Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

Her parrot is a Black-legged parrot. She’s had it since she was 5 years old.

Brings her parrot literally everywhere

Gimmick: Sure, she might be faster than Axel, but she's still a rather predictable fighter who telegraphs her attacks very clearly. You do gotta watch better which way you dodge, though. When the parrot says ''left!'', well, you better watch your left.

Up Next, the minor circuit champion, Dancing Queen !!!!!

Lay All Your Gloves On Me ~

A huge fan of ABBA, if that wasn’t already obvious, veteran Queen’s entire gimmick is based on that of 70’s pop and disco. She’s also by far the happiest person of perhaps the entire WVBA, despite being arguably the lowest ranking champion of all circuits. Some even theorize that she’d be happy, even if she was THE lowest ranked boxer. That’s because everytime she gets in the ring, she’s 17 again. That’s just how happy those Swedes are !

Other factoids:

Her real name is Heidi Karlsson

She's a trans lady, she/her

shes's 45 years old

she stands at 6'4 ft and weighs 215 lbs.

From Jönköping, Sweden

Always seen smiling. Always.

Became a boxer partially to let our her frustrations about disco fading away as a trend

Gimmick: she has a special move called the criss cross punch, where she diagonally raises her fist to punch you and then the other, similiarly to that iconic disco dance.

____________ Now for the major circuit !!!

Disclaimer: I do Not have designs or certain info for the majority of the characters from here on out. Please bare w/ me

Next up, Black and Bunraku !!!!! (props to charlie for the name)

A Boxer based on the japanese art of bunraku, Black and Bunraku actually consists of ''two fighters''; A puppet who hits you, and the puppeteer who controls the puppets movements, covered from head to toe in black. As a result, the woman's identity is a real mystery.

Other factoids:

Refuses to say her real name, age, height and weight, instead letting the puppet do all the talking.

From Osaka, Japan. This is also where the biggest bunraku theatre is located.

Gimmick: Hitting the puppet won't do anything. Once you figure out the trick to hitting her in the head, she's a fairly easy opponent to take down.

Next up: Nike the Great !!!!! A threatrical tirant and a complete history and art geek, Nike longs to be a wise philosopher slash theater actor like the ancient Greeks, with a boxing twist. Her stage name ‘’Nike’’, meaning victory in Greek, is one she holds because she is sure to be the victor, despite only being in the lower major circuit. Oh well, confidence is a stepping stone to success, right?

Other factoids:

Her real name is Nikki Ioannidis

She identifies as a nonbinary woman, she/he/they

27 years old

She stands at 6'0 feet and weighs 220 lbs.

From Athens, Greece

HUGE rivals with Narcis Prince. only ONE can wear the V for victory and that's HER.

Huge rivals with A Lot of people, including Monarch Mayhem (keep reading to see her bio !!)

During her intermissions and fights, she'll show you some of the art she's made, like painted vases. If you punch it out of her hands, she’ll get REAL mad though, so watch yourself !

Gimmick: Pretty clean fighter, outside of the fact she brings art into the ring. Hey, she's an artist after all !

Up next, Moto Mauler, The Electrifying Biker !!!!!!

This biker chick loves nothing more than the rush of the road and the wind in her hair ! and a good tussle of course. She will make sure to knock you out with the great speed she feels on her motor cycle.

Other factoids:

Her real name's Nguyen Lihn

She's a trans woman, she/her

24 years old

She stands at 5'9 ft and weighs 170 lbs.

From Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

During her intermissions, she'll talk about how beautiful the sights are and how you oughta be quicker on your feet.

She gets along swimmingly w/ Axel bc duh. mechanic x biker chick, cant go wrong w/ that right?

Gimmick: Clean fighter, outside of entering the ring on a motorcycle. Will try to exhaust you with quick jabs, and when you're tired, releases a series of punches to take you down.

Lastly, Monarch Mayhem, The Monarch of the Major Circuit !!!

Formerly known as Butterfly Bash :3

An unsuccesful artist turned boxer, Monarch Mayhem brings her frustrations into the ring, and with success! She is the crown jewel of the Major Circuit after all. That being said, she will NOT let you forget she's an artist! She will try to hypnotize you with stunning butterfly patterns on her sleeves made by herself of course, and dodge equally elegantly. At least the boxing crowd appreciates her !

Other factoids:

Cis woman, she/her

She's 31 years old

She stands at 6'1 ft and weighs 175 lbs.

From Calabar, Nigeria

Gimmick: Like i said, she'll try to stun you with hypnotizing patterns on her sleeves. The way to avoid this is to block your face, otherwise you'll get dizzy and become incapacitated ! Additionally, she does a lot of fake-outs, making her a formidable champion.

_____________

Now for the world circuit !!!

First off, Scarlet Fever, The Bad Omen !!!!!! Clad with arguably the most unorthodox boxing wear, a robe with a plague doctor mask, Scarlet Fever serves as an omen that the next opponents you’re about to face are the real deal. Other factoids:

Trans woman, she/her

She's 55 years old

Stands at 6'7 ft and weighs 210 lbs.

From Florence, Italy

Doesn’t speak, but does speak in Italian sign language.

Also does plenty of hand gestures in the ring

Secondly, Flossin' Fury, The Mental Dental Case !!!!!

After getting her medical license revoked for malpractise, she's now a dentist turned boxer. Got any cavities? Let's find out!

She's my newest addition to the OC roster, so i. Don't have much apart from a basic premise. She'll get developed soon though dw dw ! Thirdly, Sunny Gunny, The Granny with Guns !!!!!

After becoming tired of being bullied all the time, she trained to defend herself against bullies. Don’t let her old age fool you, she’s still a tanky old lady who can deal quite the mean punches ! That being said, whether you win or lose against her, she’s a nice old woman who’ll bake you some delicious goods !

Other factoids:

Her real name is Sondra ‘’Sunny’’ Seydoux

Cis woman, she/her

She's 80 years old

Stands at 6'5 ft and weighs 180 lbs

From Tallahassee, Florida

Of Haitian American descent

Of course brings baked good in the ring during intermissions. Also Oft seen knitting as well.

Balls of yarn spin around her head when she’s stunned

Gimmick: She just loves hugging her grandchildren, and this bleeds over in the ring as well; she's a real powerful hugger to the point you can b immediately incapacitated when you're hugged. During title defense, She will protect her body with her knitted blanket that can be removed in a certain way. Next up, Butch Diamond, A Girl’s Best Friend !!!!!

An Australian football player turned boxer, Butch has a robust body and an near impenetrable defense, making her a formidable fighter ! She puts her skills she learned from football into good use, so be quick on your feet ! Albeit somewhat cocky, she mostly just hams it up in the ring, and is a kind soul outside of it.

Other factoids:

Her real name is Desmond Kelly

GNC cis woman, she/he

He's 39 years old

He stands at 6'0 ft and weighs 235 lbs

She's from Melbourne, Australia

She's of Aboriginal Australian descent

Very sociable and friendly

Gimmick: Your Glass corn combo won’t work on her stomach! In fact, if you try it, you will lose HP! Instead, try stunning her and hitting her in the face with it! During her title defense, she’ll train harder, and somehow become even more robust. Now, your hands will be incapacitated for a short while if you try to hit her in the stomach repeatedly, longer if you try to do a glass corn combo.

And lastly but not leastly, Nessie,

The Shadow Champion !!!!

I've talked ab her before too, so again will keep it brief.

Gimmick: She's called a shadow champion for a reason ! Somehow, her surroundings become all dark whenever she enters the ring. During title defense, its as if you get pulled underwater. Does she use magic? Is she just that powerful? Nobody knows.

_____________

As for who would be good w/ kids...

Cassidy Cornfield: Not good with kids. Keeps scaring them with stories about aliens.

Axelerator: Axel co-runs his dad's mechanic shop, so hes definitely used to the responsibility.

Silver Hook and Scallywag: Makes kids laugh with her parrot, so pretty good with kids !

Dancing Queen: She has a couple kids of her own ! She's a great momma :3 Loves dancing with them

Black and Bunraku: Nah. Has made kids cry with her puppet. On her own, she's kinda awkward.

Nike the Great: Loves kids ! She loves telling them all kinds of stories ab ancient Greece and myths and being all theatrical about it.

Moto Mauler: Cool big sister type figure. Has a tendency to be too lenient towards kids though.

Monarch Mayhem: Think's kids r alright. Despite how difficult her path as an artist has been, she'd 100% encourage kids to follow their dreams.

Scarlet Fever: Same w/ Cassidy and Bunraku, she scares kids (albeit unintentionally).

Flossin' Fury: She's a dentist. and a scary one at that. So no, kids dont even get close to her vicinity.

Sunny Gunny: Has grandchildren, so naturally adores kids. Would bake delicious goods n spoil them rotten.

Butch Diamond: Also loves kids ! Loves carrying them on her shoulders n letting them climb all over her.

Nessie: Again, scares children, although she finds it funny.

[aotopmha]

I finished the Myths of the Realm alliance raid.

I've actually been super busy in FF14 these last two weeks – I also did the 6.1 MSQ, the job quest capstones, the ShB role quest capstones, the Omega Endwalker capstone and a bunch of other stuff that's not story-related.

As far as major content left, I think I only have the 8-man raid series, EW role quests and the rest of the MSQ to go now.

Though the EW role quests don't feel as immediately significant as the ShB ones, so I'm not as much in a hurry to get them done.

All of these bits of content will probably get their own posts in due time.

And I think there is a bunch more to say even for stuff I've already talked about.

But for now, I'll talk about Euphrosyne and Thaleia.

And I think they didn't quite continue the momentum in terms of mechanical creativity that Aglaia started, which is sad, but I think I'd at least place them above any of the Crystal Tower and Void Ark raids and I can say I don't agree with some of the more extreme takes on them because I think they still have some really creative fights/elements in there.

Firstly, I'm sad they didn't continue the mini boss encounters and instead defaulted back to regular mobs between fights. It's something fairly unique to any encounters in the game.

A few more could've been fun.

But going from Byregot's really cool "crafting" mechanic theming to Nophica's comparatively mundane AoEs is also a downgrade.

It's a beautiful-looking fight with the season changes and I even get the farming theme within the AoEs, but I think her fight is probably the weakest fight in the entire raid series.

It really is just basic AoE dodging. The alternating colors are the most unique part of the fight, but I think Tsukiyomi did that in a much thematically stronger way, too.

Moving on, I really like the Astrologian theming for Nymeia. Her design is one of my favourites. I love her clothes.

On one hand, Nymeia and Althyk are the only double fight in all of the three wings, which in itself gives the fight its own identity, but on the other hand I wish each had their own fight.

I like how the gravity and cards are combined and needing to play according to the card effects is neat, though, again, in comparison, I think Rhalgr was just so much stronger in terms of having its own identity, particularly with its super unique arena that is used in fun ways.

Avoiding gravity has been in many fights at this point and so has been dodging status effects and I feel this fight doesn't really do much new with that.

But it is also not entirely devoid of personality by combining these two ideas.

Next, I think Halone actually gets a really good fight. The memory game in her fight isn't necessarily new, either, but I like how it is executed in it because I think it and her delayed attacks are really satisfying to dodge. Her nature as a spear-wielding warrior goddess comes through really well in the fight and I love her transforming weapon.

In fact, I want that weapon for DRK (would be really cool if it was available for both DRK and PLD in its respective spear and shield/greatsword form, maybe even having a form specifically for DRG, and you'd be able to change between them for cosmetic purposes).

I feel there is a fun fire/ice parallel with Aglaia and Eusophryne and Azeyma/Halone: fire being dark-aspected and ice being light-aspected, and the identities of their fights contrasting each other.

While Azeyma felt like a free-flowing reactive fight, Halone felt very orderly and "set in stone" so to say. Passive vs active and I think that's really cool.

I want to mention the ice citadel and the two moons, too, which is probably my favourite location in all of the three wings of the raid visually, though Aglaia's Heaven of Fire is a very close contender.

Menphina I'd put on par with Althyk and Nymeia.

There are some "almost" unique elements with her fight, like Dalamud jumping out of his target ring or the moon creating an attack when it becomes full, but they're more like neat details than fully substantial unique mechanics.

Menphina is one of my favourites out of all of the gods in terms of actual personality.

She's so playful and fun. Her having a magical girl-like aesthetic for a goddess of love is also super fun/cute and I want Dalamud as a mount.

So, all of the fights in Euphrosyne have their own "personality" visually, but it doesn't always translate into the mechanics. But when it does, we get cool stuff like Halone's fight or cute elements like a puppy named Dalamud that is having fun with hit boxes or the goddess of fate using Astrologian cards. It's not as distinct as what came before in a general sense to me, but I still had a bunch of fun running it.

Moving on to Thaleia, I definitely like Thaliak more than Nophica because I like the Zodiark positioning mechanic and I like dodging the triangles because you have to think slightly more about your positioning than with fairly generic AoEs. It's not "unique" so to speak, but what is there is done well enough.

I see Lymlaen the same way. Nier did the corridor running better, but I still really like how she creates an opening in the middle of the whirlpool she created as her arena. It's such a cool idea, but most of her fight still ends up being AoE dodging, which at this point just frustrated me.

I feel you could've done some neat stuff with manipulating the whirlpool and that alone would've strenthened the general identity of it.

I do love that the goddess of the sea is a tough pirate lady, though.

I think Oschon is the best fight in Thaleia. I love the predictive mechanics involving his archery. His fight is a super distinctive fight in terms of showcasing him as a fighter, just like Halone's.

I feel like Bards are fairly underrepresented in the game, too, so the fight is welcome in this sense, as well.

They even manage to weave the straight-forward stuff into this reactive archery identity of the fight.

Finally, there is Eulogia.

I think this fight is basically the alliance raid version of the final Eden fight. I like final fights that test you on mechanics that you've encountered up to that point.

In this case, I think it being a "test" fight really benefitted the narrative structure and did a great job at crafting a sense of finality for the entire raid in terms of the gameplay and story alike.

To me it completed the entire package, even if I thought the first wing was the best part of it.

In a general enjoyment sense, I was never truly bored through any of the encounters, I just think some fights could've been better.

They still sound great and look great and give some really cool glamour.

And I'll probably be happier to get any of these raid wings in roulettes than Nier or Ivalice because I feel you can get through them comparatively quickly. Nier is really long in particular.

So, I can see where the criticisms for the series come from, but none of the criticisms I *personally* have for it truly ruin any of it.

Now if the game kept going down this path and never changing and leaning more and more on these generic encounter tropes, it would eventually become a true problem.

Once again looking at the statements about Dawntrail, though, luckily it seems they are aiming to nip this homogenization issue in the bud.

[greatwyrmgold]

Holocure Character Guide: Holomyth

NOTE: This guide was written for 0.3.1656470021. The Hololive EN characters didn't change much in the 0.4 update, so it should be mostly accurate, but item recommendations in particular are probably wrong.

Each character has a basic weapon they start the game with, three unique upgradable skills, and a super attack. These interact to make (for instance) Calli and Sana play very differently, even when armed with the same weapons and items. I’ve played each of them at least a couple of times, and will do my best to explain these differences and how best to use them.

Amelia Watson

Ame is a pretty basic character—appropriate, since she’s one of the few ordinary-ish humans in Hololive (outside the early JP generations).

Her starting weapon is a pistol that can only fire left or right (in my opinion, the most annoying to aim out of any starter weapon), and two of her skills just boost damage and critical rate. Her special freezes enemies in place (while boosting her pistol’s firing rate), and her third skill lets Bubba run around, fetching XP and hurting enemies. Pretty much any loadout works on her, with the exception of loadouts that just don’t work at all.

Also, you can pet the dog.

Gawr Gura

Gura’s skills lend themselves to a specific sort of playstyle, focusing on numerous small strikes and not getting hit.

The most important, at least for building her kit around, is her Shark Bite, which has a chance to put a “bite mark” on enemies each time they’re hit, increasing damage taken and potentially healing you when they’re killed. You need weapons that hit a lot for tiny amounts of damage per hit to take full advantage of this mechanic.

Gura’s basic weapon, a fork trident, has good range and strikes multiple times when upgraded, but its narrow attack area means aim is critical (and it struggles with crowds). The Power of Atlantis creates whirlpools that trap enemies and make them more vulnerable to damage. Just be sure to attack them—you aren’t running a catch-and-release program. Her special is pretty straightforward—one big attack, then she “reflects” on her performance gets bonuses to damage and speed for a bit.

Finally, there’s Short Height, which causes enemies to sometimes miss her because they’re used to fighting taller people. After dodging this way, Gura gets half a second of invulnerability and speed boost, which is hopefully enough to get you to safety. Combine with Headphones for, at maximum level, a 57.75% chance of ignoring any attack that hits. Just don’t assume that this combo makes you invulnerable. (For more than half a second at a time, I mean.) Short Height also combines well with Sake and other items items that buff you if you haven’t been hit.

???

I don’t know where else to put this, so I’ll squeeze it in here: Gura and Ina get a semi-unique bonus with the Cutting Board weapon and derivatives. I find this interesting, because their base weapons have something in common—both are long and narrow, compared to other (non-projectile) weapons. This has its advantages, but it has big weaknesses called “sides and back”—weaknesses that the fully-upgraded cutting board solves by throwing extra cutting boards at all of those weaknesses.

Is this a coincidence, or an intentional design choice? What weapons will Ollie, Shion, and that famous necromancer have?

Anyways.

Ninomae Ina’nis

Ina’s a fun one. If you play her right, she’s jumping into the middle of enemy hordes and smashing them to pieces.

The first and most obvious piece of the puzzle is her Special Attack, which summons a bunch of tentacles before turning Ina into a damp, sticky buzzsaw. If you don’t throw yourself into a mass of enemies, it won’t do much. If you do, it can wipe out an enemy mob. The second only-less-obvious-because-it-takes-time-to-unlock piece is Ina’s Cult skill, which grants a damage bonus for having lots of targets around.

Now, jumping into a big pit of violent fans could be somewhat dangerous. Enter The Void, a skill which slows enemies as they get close. This helps mitigate that danger, by making it harder for enemies to reach you. Of course, it doesn’t help any once the enemies do reach you; you still need to avoid running into enemies, and grabbing some weapons with knockback (like max-level Spider Cooking) can hardly hurt.

The last thing you need to worry about is not dying. The Ancient Ones skill helps out with that, turning enemies into harmless ghost takodachis (which still count for the Cult skill, and heal you at maximum level). But it only does so much; you’ll want defensive items as well. Nurse Horns are good on everyone, of course, but they’re worth pointing out; the times when Ina is most vulnerable (in the middle of an enemy horde) are when she should be killing the most enemies.

Defensive items are good, especially the best defensive item in the game. What else? Ina needs some close-range weapons, but mostly to protect her from the enemies she’s jumping into. Cult’s damage bonus applies whether the enemies are two pixels from hitting you or offscreen, so she benefits from mixing short- and long-range weapons.

I haven’t really talked about Ina’s default weapon, Summon Tentacle, because it’s hard to fit into this framework I’ve been building. I’ve been talking about how Ina wants to jump into the middle of big groups of enemies, and her tentacle…has the longest range of any starting weapon except some projectiles, and while wider than Trident Thrust or Bird Feather, it’s still narrower than many other starting weapons.

As for actual advice: You can “swipe” with the tentacle by moving while it’s extended to hit more enemies. This is particularly useful when an enemy you thought you should have hit ends up in one of the tentacle’s weird curls. Advancing a starting weapon to max level ASAP is rarely bad advice (unless you’re playing Baelz), but it’s especially rewarding on Ina, whose level 7 ability is probably the coolest out of the entire cast.

Takanashi Kiara

I would rate Kiara as the best for new players to pick up. She’s pretty simple; run around, slash with your nice broad sword, and set everything on fire.

Kiara’s basic attack is pretty simple—a sword-swing that grows and grows and eventually gets set on fire. Before Calli’s rework, it was by far the easiest Holomyth starting weapon to aim, and it’s still pretty easy. Her special attack, Phoenix Fire, is also straightforward; one big explosion, and some lingering flames to protect you (or to lure enemies into).

Her skills are pretty easy to understand, too. Phoenix Shield can help defend you, but it’s only effective if you only take damage every once in a while. Trailblazer creates damaging (and eventually slowing) fire where you walk; it’s beneficial to inexperienced players, because it lets them do damage by running away. Speaking of running, Dancer provides a damage boost as long as you keep moving. (You can stop for a fraction of a second without losing the buff, but not reliably.) There’s rarely a reason not to move, so this is a pretty easy buff to maintain (unless you’re even more fumble-fingered than me).

Kiara works pretty well with any weapons or items. I personally recommend going for MiComet and Dragonfire, so you can paint the map orange with flames, but that’s more of an aesthetic concern than a tactical one.

Calliope Mori

Calli has gone through some serious changes in recent updates. She’s been buffed, partly by tweaking some skills, but mostly by changing how her scythe works on its own.

Once, the scythe was for many people the trickiest weapon to use; it covered a wide arc, but only a narrow slice along it, some distance from Calliope—and that distance only grew as you upgraded the scythe. Many people found it more difficult to aim than any other basic weapon—you didn’t need to work hard to get the angle right, but you could only attack at a fairly specific distance.

And even if you were better at keeping your distance than aiming, the dead zone meant that enemies surrounding you on multiple sides could easily trap you, unable to attack if you didn’t have some other close-range weapons to fill the gap. And even in that case, Calliope would still be in danger, because she is all about that scythe.

The Rapper boosts damage within a certain radius, which affects all weapons with a shorter range than her scythe, but also affects her scythe. Death causes some extra effects when enemies are killed with the scythe (or by Death’s explosions, which are triggered by the scythe). And her special attack, The Reaper, mostly just boosts her scythe damage.

Sure, it boosts crit damage too, but Calli isn’t very crit-focused. And it’s honestly kinda disappointing for most of the game—it’s not hard to boost your scythe to the point that it kills basically all non-boss enemies for the first twelve minutes. You’ll fall behind the curve if you grab some useful items in the early minutes, but you should catch up before you actually need to kill enemies in a single swipe. For ~60% of the game, The Reaper is a boss-killing special. And it’s quite good at that!

I should also briefly mention Workaholic. It provides a stacking damage buff whenever you kill enemies that only goes away if you stop killing them. This is a big part of why Calli’s scythe is so deadly—it’s very easy to kill some enemies and never stop long enough for the buff to go away.

So aside from buffing the scythe, what should you get? Other weapons that can benefit from The Rapper’s close-range damage buff are ideal, particularly Spider Cooking. It used to be more important, to fill in the scythe-arc’s huge dead space and help judge how close you were to enemies, but it’s still handy. Spider Cooking, BL Book, and Cutting Board help cover Calli’s back, where her scythe isn’t reaping.

She also needs defensive items. Most characters have at least one defensive skill, at least something that slows down enemies like The Void or Down Under, but Calli’s only innate defense is an overwhelming offense. Nurse Horns are an excellent choice for any character, but Calli’s sheer lethality makes them an especially good choice.

If you like living dangerously, Face Mask and Injection-Type Asacoco are also worth considering. They give huge damage buffs, in exchange for making you extremely fragile. ITA and Nurse Horns seem like they would make a potent combination—all the power of Asacoco with enough healing to practically negate the downside—but I’ve never been able to test it.

Old Calli should never take Knightly Milk; it would extend her scythe outside The Rapper’s range, which kinda defeats the purpose of the skill. However, I tested New Calli with Knightly Milk, and it looks like even a maxed-out scythe with maxed-out milk stays within level 3 Rapper’s range. Man, this guide sure had to change a lot after Calli update, huh? I hope no other characters were updated enough to completely invalidate parts of this guide…

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 18: Girl’s Night (Heroes/Villains)

AO3

Prev

First

Teleporting back into her room in Gotham, Marinette flops onto her bed. Passing Kaalki sugar cubes and Tikki a cookie, she suppresses the urge to scream into her pillow. She was sick and tired of Hawkmoth. Sick and tired of being the one who has to fix everything. She just wanted one week with no Hawkmoth, no akuma attacks. But no. Of course not. Of course he just had to send out a stupid akuma every single day. Because why not. How’re people supposed to know he’s still being the main villain of Paris if he takes a freaking day off? Once she finds out who he is, she’s going to punch him in his stupid face. A knock on her door pulls her from her plotting ways to get back at Hawkmoth. 

“Come in.” She sighs, sitting up and forcing a tired smile on her face. 

“Marinette, your father wanted-” Selina starts, pausing as she looks her over. “Come on kitten, we’re having a girls day.” She says. Marinette raises an eyebrow. Sure she’d met Selina before, but they hadn’t really hung out yet. 

“What?” She asks. 

“You look exhausted and angry, sweetheart. Spending too much time with these boys isn’t going to help. So you’re gonna grab anything you need for an overnight trip and we’re going to go watch movies and eat junk food til we’re sick.” Selina instructs. Marinette grins, jumping up and shoving stuff into her backpack. She puts Kaalki’s glasses into her purse and lets her and Tikki fly in before she turns to Selina. 

“Ready!” She says, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. It’d been ages since she’d had a girls day with anyone. She was so ready to just take a break and be silly. 

“Well come on then. Harley and Ivy are going to adore you.” Selina says, slinging her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. Somehow, they manage to not see anyone on the way to Selina’s car. Which is weird, but it is a weekday so everyone probably had something to do besides sit around the manor. Pulling away from the manor, Selina flips on the radio, the new Jagged Stone song blasting full volume.

“Nice taste in music.” Marinette says with a wide grin. Selina smirks. 

“I have to like the man at least a little, his designer is one of my kids after all.” She says. Marinette smiles, a warm feeling flooding through her. Selina didn’t have to accept her with open arms, she didn’t have to treat her like she was her own daughter. But she did, and Marinette was so thankful for that. Thankful that even so far away from her Maman, she still had a Mom there for her. The two nod along to the music, scream singing the chorus together as the car pulls to a stop in front of an apartment building. Marinette glances at the building, suddenly nervous. Would Harley and Ivy like her? Or would they just tolerate her for Selina. 

“Don’t make yourself nervous, sweetheart. Harley and Ivy are two of the sweetest people I know. They’re gonna love you.” Selina says reassuringly, reaching over and squeezing Marinette’s shoulder. Marinette lets out a breath before nodding. 

“Okay, let’s go.” She says, grabbing her bag and jumping out of the car. She follows closely behind Selina, not wanting to give anyone the chance to get between them. You could never be too careful in Gotham. They walk into the building and go straight into the elevator, Selina pushing the button and leaning up against the wall while they wait. Marinette bounces on the balls of her feet, excitement and nerves bundling together. The second the elevator stops, Marinette’s out, following Selina down the hall. She pulls out a key, winking at Marinette before turning and unlocking the door. 

“Honey, I’m home!” She calls, and Marinette’s jaw drops. The apartment was quite literally covered in plants and vines. They were beautiful. She grins as one of the vines near her leans towards her, a small flower blooming at the end of it. 

“And who did you bring with you?” A tall woman with red hair asks, walking into the room. The designer inside of Marinette instantly has a million questions about the woman’s outfit. It seemed to be made entirely of plants, but she could also tell that they were still alive. She had no idea how the woman had managed that, but she guessed that it was something that couldn’t be replicated for someone else. 

“I’m Marinette. Nice to meet you!” She says with a wide smile. The woman, who Marinette assumes is Ivy, grins back. 

“Nice to meet you, Flower. I see you’ve already made a friend.” She says, gesturing to the vine which was now wrapped around Marinette’s wrist. Marinette giggles. 

“Well, I was hoping they liked me and that’s what this was. I have a garden back in Paris, and I’d hate to find out plants actually hate me.” She says. Ivy shakes her head. 

“No worries there. They adore you, it’s a little odd if I’m honest.” Ivy says, dodging Selina who tries to flick her. 

“Did I hear Selina?” Another voice asks, a short blonde woman walking into the room. Her hair was short and choppy, the small pigtails at the top of her head dyed pink. Marinette grinned at the woman’s outfit- a Gotham Amusement Pier t-shirt, Batman pajama pants, and hot pink fuzzy socks. She wondered if her dad knows that Harley Quinn has Batman pj pants….probably not. 

“Yes, with a guest.” Selina says, plopping onto the couch and gesturing over to Marinette, who was still standing by her new vine friend. 

“Hi! I’m Marinette, it’s nice to meet you.” She says, smiling and waving with her free hand. Ivy whispers something and the vine squeezes a bit before letting go, letting her move away from the door. 

“Well aren’t ya just the cutest!” Harley squeals, running forward and giving her a big hug. “Didjya finally join your boytoy’s adopting habits?” Harley adds, still clutching onto Marinette. Selina snorts. 

“No, he beat me to her. But she’s definitely mine, too.” She says, making Marinette’s face turn red. Harley coos at her, ruffling her hair before stepping back. 

“So what brings ya here? Get annoyed with Bats already?” Harley asks. Marinette blinks in shock. Harley knows? She thinks about it for a minute, and realizes it just makes sense. They’d been fighting long enough and then he started his relationship with Selina, who was one of Harley’s best friends. It just made sense that Harley (who was extremely smart) would put two and two together. 

“No, just thought that Mari could use a girl’s day. She’s been stuck with just the boys for over a week.” Selina explains. Harley gasps. 

“The horror!” She says, making Marinette giggle. “Come on pumpkin, I’ve got the comfiest jammies ever. Oooo, and we can paint our nails! Ivy, find the movies, Selina, you’re on snacks. This is gonna be so much fun!” Harley orders, grabbing Marinette’s hand and tugging her along to one of the bedrooms, Selina’s laugh echoing throughout the apartment. 

“I did bring pjs, ma’am.” Marinette says, once Harley stops tugging her and starts searching through a drawer. 

“Bet that can’t be comfier than the ones I’ve got for ya! And call me Harley kiddo, or Auntie Harley if ya wanna.” She says, looking up from the drawer to smile widely. She looks back and cheers in victory, pulling out a pair of bright red pajama pants. Marinette snorts when she notices the logo all over the pants. 

“Really?” She asks, giggling. Harley smirks. 

“We’ll have to take a picture of us and send it to your old man. Really get ‘im riled up.” She says. Marinette nods excitedly, taking the Robin pants from Harley. This was gonna be awesome. 

---

Bruce sighs, looking at the news report from Paris from earlier. The damned butterflies were hard to track. He was used to figuring out problems quickly, and this one was taking too long for comfort. It wouldn’t bother him as much if it was anywhere else, but it was directly impacting his daughter. She was being hurt daily, and she’d even died and now she was plagued with nightmares. All because of a man with some magic jewelry. God, he hated magic. A knock on the study door stirs him from his thoughts. 

“Come in.” He says.

“Hey B, have you seen Mari? I was gonna ask her if she wanted to go get ice cream with me and Little D.” Dick asks, leaning against the door frame, Damian standing next to him with his arms crossed.

“Not since breakfast. There was another akuma attack earlier, but it wasn’t a bad one. She wasn’t injured.” He says, remembering the completely strange battle from earlier. It was some man with pigeons, and apparently this was the 34th time the man had been akumatized over pigeons. 

“Did you not check her room after the battle?” Damian asks, eyebrow quirked. Bruce sighs. 

“It was the pigeon one again. I assumed that she’d want to take a nap, if anything. She still hasn’t been sleeping well. Tim said she’s awake every morning when he comes up for coffee, whether it’s three or five, she’s up.” Bruce explains, frowning at the thought of his youngest daughter’s sleep habits. He certainly didn’t need another sleep deprived coffee addict like Tim. It wasn’t healthy. 

“Well I already checked her room. She wasn’t there.” Dick says, and Bruce frowns, pulling out his phone to send a text to Tim and call Jason. One of them had to have seen her. She never left the house without telling one of the family, unless it was for a battle. 

“What.” Jason says gruffly, Bruce is just grateful he answered. Up until a couple of months ago, Jason would have rather thrown his phone in the river than answer one of Bruce’s calls. 

“Have you seen Marinette?” He asks, getting straight to the point.

“No? Why? What’s wrong?” Jason asks, and Bruce hears shuffling as Jason rushes around wherever it is he is. 

“Nothing. I’ll call you back.” He says, hanging up. He glances down at his texts and notices Tim hasn’t seen her either. He frowns, but doesn’t panic yet. Pulling out his computer, he pulls up the tracker that was on each of his children’s phones. He scans the map, frowning when he sees that her phone is still in the manor. In her room. He stands and swiftly moves past his sons to get to his daughter’s room. He knocks, waiting for an answer. None. 

“Marinette?” He calls, knocking again. “I’m opening the door.” He warns, pushing it open. He frowns at the empty room, nothing appearing out of place. 

“Do you think she had to pop back to Paris for something?” Dick asks, coming up behind him. Bruce shakes his head. 

“No, she would have told us. Suit up, she has to be somewhere in-” He stops as his phone chimes. He looks at it and feels all of the tension leave his shoulders. 

Took our youngest daughter for a girl’s day, back tomorrow XO. Of course Selina had her. 

“She’s with the Sirens. She’ll be back tomorrow.” Bruce says, suppressing a smile at the annoyed look on his youngest’s face. She was safe, and that’s what matters. Even if he was certain he’d have to listen to Damian complain for the entirety of patrol. 

---

“Make all the boy moose go WAAAAAAAAA!” Harley says with the movie, laughing loudly. Marinette chuckles, passing Tikki a cookie in her purse before sticking another spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. 

“I still like the first one more.” Selina says, taking a sip of her wine. Harley sticks her tongue out at her before turning her attention back to the movie. 

“Do you think Mia is secretly a superhero?” Marinette asks, frowning in thought. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Ivy asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even Harley pauses the movie to turn and stare at her. 

“Stan Lee.” Marinette says with a shrug. 

“Is that s’posed to mean something to me, kid? Cause I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” Harley says, obviously confused. Marinette huffs. 

“Stan Lee makes a cameo in this movie. And Stan Lee is the creator of Marvel, right? He’s made a cameo in like, every single Marvel movie. So is Mia secretly a superhero? Is that why he’s in the movie?” Marinette rambles, almost flinging ice cream at Selina as she gestures crazily. 

“Sweetie, how much sleep have you had in the past three days?” Selina asks after a few moments of silence. 

“Not important. Is Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia, also a superhero? Does she secretly work for SHIELD? Or is she more like Iron Man, like a freelance superhero? Was she a hero in San Francisco too? Or did she take over a hero's mantle when she moved to Genovia? Cause she was really clumsy in the first movie and also super awkward, but now she’s less clumsy and she seems to be more put together, but are heroes really put together? I don’t think so. I think sometimes heroes pretend that they’re put together to make everyone else feel better when in all reality they’re seconds away from a breakdown themselves. Is Stan Lee coming to recruit her for SHIELD? Is that why he’s in Genovia? Does SHIELD have any jurisdiction there? Is there a Genovian branch of SHIELD?” Marinette rambles, suddenly stuck on the topic. Seriously, why is Stan Lee in Princess Diaries 2 if Mia isn’t a hero? Why would he-

“Kitten, take a breath.” Selina says, her hands on Marinette’s shoulders helping her to ground herself. Marinette takes in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She blinks a few times, instantly feeling bad. 

“I’m so sorry.” She says, frowning. 

“What for?” Harley asks, looking confused. 

“For ruining girl’s night.” She says quietly. Selina pulls her into a tight hug and Marinette sinks into it. 

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin anything. I don’t know everything that’s going on. But what I do know, is that you rambling out a conspiracy theory about the movie we’re watching is not ruining girl’s night. Trust me. One time, we invited your brother Dick, and he ate all of the cookies by himself.” Selina says, Marinette snorts. Of course he did. “Now that’s a way to ruin girl’s night.” She adds, squeezing her once more before leaning back.

“Let's watch something that we can just get lost in and not have to think at all.” Ivy suggests, looking through the stack of dvd’s. Marinette glances over, eyes instantly catching one of her favorite movies. 

“Legally Blonde?” She suggests, Harley squeals. 

“That’s it, you’re officially ours. Brucie can fight me.” She says, putting in the dvd. Marinette laughs, laying her head on Selina’s shoulder, grabbing a handful of popcorn. She could get used to nights like these.

Next Chapter

Bonus chapter: Harley Vs Bruce

Drawing of Harley and Mari’s pajamas

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :)  Part 3

You know getting dragged through a multi billion dollar corporations building to try and avoid your illegitimate father, a normal monday for most I’m sure.

First< Previous >Next

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It’s official, I hate Adrien

Marinette groans, having been practically dragged out of bed for breakfast. Adrien was wisely backed up as far as he could in the elevator. She yawns, making it loud as possible and looking Adrien right in the eye.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out so late,” Tikki giggles, hidden in her scarf.

Yeah it turns out that ‘just need to help out one person’ turned into a it is now 3am and I am halfway across the city beating up a gang.

“At least the box was safe,” Marinette whispers back, she had crashed in Adrien's room, no matter how mad Lila would be, or because of it who knows.

And indeed Lila was mad. The second they step foot into the hotel restaurant the entire class turns to stare at them. Crowded around a smug looking Lila with tears rolling down her cheeks. Marinette just turns a sharp left to the coffee. It isn’t until she has downed half a cup and refilled it that she tries to look for her friends.

Chloe looks just as dead as her, so she sits next to her. Let the morning people talk, they were ready to pass out together.

“Kagami?”

“Yep, Adrien?”

“Yep,”

“Morning people,” They both sneer.

“Were you planning on sleeping all morning?” Kagami asks, eating breakfast like a normal person, what a jerk.

“Were you planning on watching me all morning?” Chloe half heartedly retorts.

“You are adorable when you’re sleeping,”

“Fuck you, I’m adorable all the time,”

“Chlo, language, please,” Marinette implores, nursing her giant cup.

“Shut up Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe snaps, face planting back into the table.

“She’s not that cute actually,” Kagami whispers to Adrien, “Wore a face mask she got green all over the bed,”

“I’ll get green all over you,” Chloe mumbles absentmindedly.

"Marinette,"

"Ah the storm is coming,took them long enough" She takes a gulp of burning coffee, "Yes Alya?"

"You cant just say that to a person," Alya tries to explain, as if talking down to a child, "Lila was up all night crying,"

"She probably just put on a recording and went soundly to sleep," Chloe scoffs, sleepily looking up from the table.

"I was with her all night!" Alya turns to Chloe, seething rage coming to the surface.

"Thats some impressive endurance," Marinette mutters, downing more coffee.

"You think she's been practicing?" Chloe smirks.

"This isn't-"

"Make sure she get's plenty of water," Marinette turns away, hoping the conversation would be over.

"Marinette!" Alya looks down at her the way Marinette often looks at her, the look at a dear friend who changed, "Can't you see you're hurting Lila?"

"Can't you see she's hurting me?" She covers that honestly by gulping down more coffee, she has not had enough for this conversation.

"You used to be so nice Marinette," Alya dodges the question, pointing to Chloe and Kagami instead, "Then you started spending time with these two, and, and you changed!"

"Believe what you want Alya," Marinette motions for her friends to stay calm, "But they stand by me when no one else will, especially you,"

"Thats because!- Marinette if you had just gotten to know Lila instead of being jealous this would have never happened," Alya looks down at her sadly, Marinette was sure Paris would have been up in flames somehow if she had ever trusted Lila, "If you just didn't spend time around these bullies everything could be the same, you wouldn't have become a bully too,"

"So what?" She spits bitterly, looking over at the table watching them, Lila looking disgruntled it wasn't an all out fight, "If I got up and joined that table right now, would everything go back to the way it was?"

"... No,"

Marinette’s pocket buzzes in a familiar sequence. Akuma alert.

"Ok then, not much point in arguing about it, I'm going to stay with my friends, the ones I can actually trust," Marinette quickly shuts down Alya's protest, "Now go get Lila some water,"

Alya walks off back to the table, everyone crowding around her. Marinette waits for the door to be clear, she has to leave before Alya finishes or the whole class will be breathing down her neck.

“Forgot something in my room,” Marinette slings on her back pack, “Be back soon,”

She was not back soon, she was not back soon at all. Luckily she should only be three minutes late for the bus-and nope they left, great. She’ll just have to catch up with the tour later.

Well, I had stuff to do anyways

She talks with the receptionist; her assistant should have sent her a prepared motorcycle to the hotel the day before. It’s a quick drive to the location she had selected specifically to be close to the hotel.

She puts on a simple domino mask before entering the building, she didn’t want anyone to leak her identity after all. Walking in she’s glad to see everything is not in disarray.

“MDC,” Her assistant, Liam walks up to her.

Liam was someone she met through Penny. He’s older than her and also acted as her guardian on most of her trips as MDC. He does know her civilian identity, which she trusted him completely to keep. She likes him because-

“Is that mine?” She snatches the cup of coffee as he passes it to her.

“Figured you needed it,” Liam smiles, wincing as she downs the burning liquid, it's fine she has a strong healing factor, “You said your bag was stolen? This should replace it, it’s most of what you had plus more,”

He rolls forward a pre packed suitcase.

“I would die without,” Marinette says in all seriousness, “So what's the damage?”

“No major problems so far, the security we hired is enough to scare away the smaller thugs,” Liam nods to some security personnel guarding each door, “They won't be enough if any super villains try to attack the actual show,”

“Mm, give them instructions on the night of the show they are only allowed to intercept small time, anything bigger they are not allowed to engage,” Marinette studies the room, there's great places to hide, friend or foe, “If they see anything they are simply to report it directly to me,”

“They can’t engage?” Liam looks around, trying to see what she is.

“They won't be able to stop them anyway, and there is no reason for them to die,”

“If you say so,” Liam leads her through the room where lights are being set up and walls are being painted, “So what's the plan if we do get attacked?”

“I’m sure Batman is going to have his eye on any big events,” Marinette approves of the color of the back wall, it looking even better in person, “Besides I’m planning on trying to intercept before any violence,”

“In other words you're going to make my job a lot more stressful,” Liam sighs, making a note or rather on his tablet.

“Not if I can help it,”

“You can’t,” Liam sighs again at her grin, “Didn’t you have a tour with your class today?”

“They left me,” Liam seems equally unsurprised, “But I should probably head for Wayne tower anyway,”

“Don’t get into trouble,”

“I never get into trouble,” Marinette smirks from the door, “Trouble drags me into it kicking and screaming,”

“More like keen and skipping,” Liam closes the door in her face.

Marinette strolls into the Wayne tower an hour late with Starbucks, she sees is her class, being a nuisance arguing with a tour guide.

“You cannot just leave a student alone in Gotham,” The tour guide all but yells at Madame Bustier.

“Marinette is very responsible, she can handle herself,” Madame Bustier more defends herself than Marinette.

“I don’t care how responsible your student is, that won't stop them from getting shot!” This time he does yell, “You need to go back and pray to god she’s alright and hasn't gotten lost for some murder to find!”

Alright time to break the tension

“Hey, what did I miss?” Marinette asks casually, Already sipping at her straw when all eyes turn to her.

“Marinette! How did you get here?” Madame bustier demands.

“I-”

“I think you mean ‘are you alright, I’m so sorry for leaving you behind,” The tour guide glowers, apparently threatening enough that Madame Bustier actually repeats him.

“I’m fine, I borrowed a bike from my friend in Gotham,”

“You don’t have a licence in Gotham,” Lila sneers triumphantly.

Oh look who actually did some research, how much digging did you do when I learnt how to ride a motorcycle

“I didn’t say it was a motorcycle,” That shut’s Lila up, “But yeah it is a motorcycle,

Worth it for that face

“Also I got my licence approved in America before I came,”

So worth that face

Lila opens her mouth, better than the flood gates, when the tour guide interrupts.

“Now that everyone is here,” He sends a smile to Marinette and a glare to Madame Bustier somehow at the same time, she gets the tinglily feeling of  miraculous holder, or maybe its just the caffeine, “We can start, my name is Dick I will be your tour guide today.

They follow Dick through the tour Marinette's group right behind Dick. She scribbled designs and took notes as he talked, asking her own questions. This got her dubbed Dicks favourite, and easy title to gain as the rest of the class lagged behind. Most were listening to Lila, only Max and Alix were straining to hear Dick over the chatter. Marinette would occasionally pick up a mention of the Wayne's and knew it wasn't related to the tour. She'd have to guess Lila was lying about either dating someone or saving their life, or because it's Lila probably both. A gutsy move in the Wayne tower she had to admit. Marinette could tell Dick was listening and would probably have that rumour make it back to the Wayne's themselves. Would the wrath of some of the richest and most powerful people be enough to stop her? not likely.

They split up for lunch at the cafeteria in the building. She saw the coffee machine and was about to make a bee line to it when Kagami pulled her back to eat some 'real food' whatever that is. She makes a break for it after eating the so called 'real food', right before the tour was about to restart. She reaches it as a familiar figure is also waiting.

"Hi Tim," She greets, getting him to actually jump, "You work here?"

"Hi! um-yeah," He looks over to her, "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" She takes the biggest travel cup they have available.

"Sn-nothing," Tim still looks uneasy, then his eyes lock onto the cup, "tired?"

"Was up till three am last night, plus jet lag?" She yawns, "Yeah I'm tired,"

"Then you'll want to put that cup back,"

"Hm why?"

he gets her answer when Tim ducks down, opening a hidden cupboard full of travel cups at least twice the size of her current one,

"Tim I love you," She fills up the giant cup, "You're my favourite person in Gotham as of right now,"

"Not Dick?"

"Eh, his puns are lacklustre," She shrugs, Tim spits out his drink, "You know Dick?"

"Yep, give him a hard time for me!" Tim calls over his shoulder, walking away.

"You got it!" She hurries in the opposite direction, late for the tour once again.

“Did you get another coffee?” Dick asks as they enter the PR department.

“They were serving them at lunch,” Marinette could almost laugh at how quickly he had begun to fret over her during the tour.

“I know, that was my brothers idea, or rather demand,” Dick sighs, someone else approaching the group to direct the tour.

“Your brother works here?”

“Sure does,”

“But you don’t”

This makes Dick pause, looking down at her as she sips at the coffee.

“What?”

“I mean you don’t work this job at least,” She shrugs, it wasn't hard to figure out.

“Why's that?”

“You seem uncomfortable, your charismatic but still lack the smoothness of a rehearsed tour, plus you seem offended that they are in the back chatting,” Marinette nods towards Lila and her posse, “Regular tour guides would be used to that,”

“You found me out,” Dick chuckles, “I’m just taking over for today,”

“Well I think you picked a bad class to do that for,” She looks over at most her class ignoring the speaker trying to get their attention.

“I think I picked the right one,” Dick says cryptically, then walks off to help herd the class.

“Alright you have to give me the recipe,” Marinette overhears from a nearby desk.

Someone is sitting on it eating a cookie, while the other taps away at her computer.

“Sorry no can do,” She shrugs, “I don’t know it,”

“How can you not know it, you baked them right?” He asks, trying to steal another one and getting his hand slapped away.

“Nope, new vigilante came in, beat up someone robbing my house and baked me cookies,”

“This is Gotham so I believe the first two,” He looks between her and the container, “But cookies?”

“They also gave me free therapy,” She shrugs, before tapping on the container,“And do you really believe I could make these?”

“Touche,” He smirks leaning back on the desk, “So who’s the new guy? With the Batclan?”

“No they said they were just passing through,” She doesn't look up from her computer, focusing intently on the screen, “Names Starling,”

“Never heard of them,”

“Neither, and I tried looking them up,” She sighs, pushing back from the computer in defeat, “Found someone, but it’s not them, actually couldn't find anything on them,”

“Weird,” He gets up from the desk, “Can’t imagine Batman is going to take kindly to a new vigilante running around,”

“Unless he adopts them,”

“That… yeah he probably will,”

"Oh no-CLAIRE" The speaker trying to wrangle her class stops, "We have a problem!"

"Sorry to cut this short," Claire doesn't look sorry at all, "Seems we have important matters to tend to,"

She follows Dick out of the department, ushering her class as she goes. Claire looks over at her like she has two heads, a mixture of impressed and pity, and perhaps a bit of jealously.

They get to go further up the building, to the higher floors. They reach a space that is mostly meeting rooms. He class decide to take advantage of Dick declaring they are completely sound proof, or maybe they took it as a challenge. Marinette is walking past a hall when someone leaning against the wall catches her eye.

“Auntie Selina?!”

They look around, only spotting Marinette seconds before they collide into a hug, she feels the tingling buzz of a true holder.

“Mari!” Selina picks her up and spins her around, no different from when she was five, “Oh, my love it’s so good to see you, when did you arrive in Gotham?”

Marinette watches as her smile morphs into horror.

“Wait, what are you doing in Gotham!?”

“It’s a class trip and- hey where are we going?” Her Auntie grabs her arm pulling her down the hall.

“Marinette!” Dick calls, walking around the corner, Selina makes a sharp turn down another corridor, “Wait!”

Selina is two steps away from running as she pulls Marinette through the maze of hallways.

“Auntie where are we going?”

“Down here,” She opens the door leading to a staircase, too narrow to be a fire exit.

“That’s not really what I was asking,”

Selina inputs a key code, the door swinging open as she is pulled into the room.

“Wait!” She gets pulled through another door just as quick “Was that wall full of weapons?”

“Just a picture sweetie,” She says sweetly, “Down these stairs,”

“Aunt Selina what are we running from?” They are running now, floor after floor.

“We’re not running from anything sweetie,” Selina speeds up, “I just wanted to show you a cool spot in Gotham,”

“Right,” Marinette raises an eyebrow, “I was actually with the class so maybe we could go later?”

“It closes in five minutes,”

“Like you wouldn’t just break in if we were going somewhere,”

“I promise I will take you somewhere nice,” She smiles back at Marinette, they reach the end of the stairs, coming to a garage of sorts, “If you promise to hurry up,”

“Sure-” She does a double take, of the room, “Hold up are those costumes?”

“Collectors stuff, you know,” They are surrounded by bat themed... everything, “Rich people,”

“Right and how do you know this?”

“I-” She hesitates, eyes drifting, “Hey look, the exit!”

They all out sprint towards the exit. Selina reaches out to open the door a second after it swings open.

“Selina,” The man smiles at Selina as she runs into him.

“Hey Bruce,” Selina jumps back, trying to hide Marinette behind her.

“Where are you going?” Bruce looks behind her at Marinette, who gives a little wave.

“Out! Got to hurry!” She grabs Marinette's arm again, trying to pull her around Bruce.

“Is something wrong?” Bruce grabs Selina's shoulders to keep her still and looking at him.

“Nope nothings wrong,” She wriggles out of his grasp, trying again to pull Marinette away.

“Ok then,” Bruce still looks worried but turns to Marinette instead, “Hello I’m Bruce Wayne, Selina finance,”

“YOU’RE HER WHAT!?”

“Snitch,” He Auntie spits out venomously.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?” Marinette asks her with the biggest grin.

“Surprise,” Selina gives half heated jazz hands.

“Wait! Whens the wedding? Do You have a dress? I’ll make one!” She deicides, brining out her sketchbook, drawing different designs, “What's the theme? Never mind tell me on the way to the fabric store, I’ll sketch up some designs,”

“Darling, please-” Selina is now getting pulled along.

“Oh! I’ll call Papa! I’m sure he’ll want to make your cake! We have to hurry, come on lets go!” They're already out the door, Marinette waves turning back to Bruce, “Nice meeting you!”

“What just happened?” Bruce asks Dick as he runs up next to him.

“She kidnapped one of the students on tour,”

“Who is now making her wedding dress,” Bruce nods, not understanding anything

“Did I miss something?”

I think we all did

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

Taglist:

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[kettouryuujin]

Toller of the Mirelands - Arezu

[Inspired by @monsoon-of-art's Pokerus AU]

As the group continued up the Dungeon, Rei fidgeted with the crafting tools. His mind was stuck on what Akari had discussed while they'd taken a breather to make some Ethers and Potions. A device that taught a move to a Pokemon in seconds? That was just incredible! Even if couldn't teach any move to any Pokemon, it was still a miracle machine.

Oh, he was glad he’d convinced Akari to wait on using any more yet. The Professor would love to inspect them, such a device was beyond his wildest dreams-

*KLONG!* “OW!” 

-And he should’ve been watching his path. Welp, paid for that. Grumbling, the ‘chu rubbed his head as he backed away from the obstruction. 

It was a big obstruction, easily four times his height. The large silver bell-like structure continued to resound through the dungeon, forcing Rei to hold his large ears against his skull. Ok. That was loud. Erm… ok, just try to slip around, ignore the red ribbon tied to the top of the bell.

Wait. Red? Having already gone behind the metal instrument, Rei whirled about to look at the ribbon in question. As far as he knew, most bells didn’t have those. Not to mention the shape of the ribbon looked familiar… as did the designs on the bell, come to think of it. Altogether, it was recognizable enough that charge was already building up in his red cheeks.

“BRRROOOONNN…” As the Bronzong’s eyes opened, Rei couldn’t help but pat himself on the back for recognizing Arezu. Especially as he hadn’t seen her much since her changes started…something about trouble moving or looking creepy. Anyways. Fire off that Thundershock and regroup with the others for the big fight!

Hang on. Where WERE the others?

…Uh-oh.

—

When they heard the bell toll, Akari and Captain Cyllene both went to attention. “Think that’s her?”

“Yeah, probably is…and Rei is probably over there too.”

Cyllene had to dodge as the Dewott whirled around with a shocked “Wait, WHAT?!?”, eyes rushing back and forth. “I…where’d he go? And why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“My job is to observe how you perform, not help keep track when someone takes the wrong path.” She coughed, ignoring the Water-type’s glare. “That, and I may have only noticed after we took a turn or two. But that's not important."

Akari’s face shifted to an “O” of understanding before she nodded. “Well, alright. Think we can retrace our steps to where we split up?”

“Not exactly, but it’s worth a try. Lead on.” The Abra gave a small chuckle at the shock on her charge’s face, even as it morphed into joy. “R-right! Let’s see. We entered this room from here…”

—-

Rei dove to the side, panting as he avoided a painful-looking swing from the bell-like Warden. That last shot of electricity didn’t do much (shouldn't Steel be weak to Electric the same way Water is?), and with the Steel-/Psychic-type's heft, he did NOT want to get close enough to use his Quick Attack+Nuzzle combo. 

Roll to the side, dive underneath, let the cheeks build up charge. Panic and fire your attack early when you see Arezu starts to glow. End up on the receiving end of a Payback and fly clear through several rooms before slamming into a wall with a cry of pain. Yeah, that hadn't been a good battle plan. At least he knew exactly where it went wrong.

Grunting and standing, Rei pulled a spare Oran from his pack and ate it, watching the Brozong come closer. And then his assumption she was melee-only was proven false when an Extrasensory shot towards him, knocking him straight up into the air. And by the time he could even start his descent, a psychic grip took hold and slammed him into the floor.

His pained “Ka!” filled pointed ears - that impact REALLY hurt. It felt less like being thrown into a wall and more like a giant metal and wood thing slammed into his back! He could still stand, grunting as energy filled his cheeks once more. The Bronzong stopped, almost staring at him. Was she feeling sorry all of a sudden? Well…after all that, he had some tension to let off. And what do you know, here was someone that had to get KO’d anyways. “Chhhhhhuuuuu…”

—

It had taken them longer than they wanted, but the others had found the battle. Not because of following Rei’s tracks, given his recent flight, but by hearing the crackling of electricity from a couple rooms over. And, of course, his voice.

“This way!” Akari waved the Abra on, rushing towards the fight - and screeching to a stop in the door.

“Akari? What happen-” Cyllene’s words were also cut off as she stopped at the door, eyes riveted on the scene before her. On one side of the room, a ribbon-wearing Bronzong stared in shock at the other side. On said other side? A Pikachu bathed in white light.

The Dewott was faintly impressed - that was the remains of a Treasure Box there, and those usually needed help to get open - but her attention was mainly on her partner. Sparks flew from his cheeks as he grew taller, his tail elongating as fur changed color under the light. His constant “chuuuu…” filled the air alongside a heavy feeling of static, sending Akari’s fur on end as the light faded.

“RAI!”

—--

Rei’s eyes snapped open as the bolt lanced from him to the dual-type ‘mon. Impact sent it convulsing, spinning, and inverting in the air. Whoo, that took a lot out of him… Good idea to just take a seat for now. Especially as Captain Cyllene and Akari were right there, rushing towards him! Heh, he was happy to see them... But he still had to ask: “Where were you?!?”

Akari gazed at him (and pffft she was so fluffy!), off-handedly mentioning that she was “Not sure, we got split up a ways back. But…” They seemed more focused on him than the Bronzong. “Erm. You guys know that Arezu’s over there, right?”

“O-oh! Right, I’ll go confirm she’s out…erm… Captain, do you have anything at Jubilife for parties?” Rei blinked as the pair went to check on the Warden. They never did a party for any of the other Wardens, or even the Nobles! Why would they do one now?

…tail, you can stop touching his face now, thank you.

Wait. Tail. Touching face?! A Pikachu's tail isn’t that flexible!

Adjusting some to see said tail, the Electric-type’s jaw dropped. That was his tail, he could feel it - but it was long and flexible. Paws went up to feel his ears, and indeed they had spread some - no longer pointed. Looking down at said paws revealed a more brownish tint to his fur - and a small gleam under the shrapnel of whatever he’d landed on.

Gently moving aside the debris to look, he gasped. That was a Thunder Stone…a spent Thunder Stone.

This all led to one conclusion. A conclusion he never expected to reach today…or ever. It was such a shock, his next two words were drowned out by the clamor in his brain.

“I…evolved?”

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 1

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,183

Warnings: none

A/N: This is brand new and probably one of the softest series I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it, these two are going to fall in love so hard!

“I don’t feel good.”

You started rocking back and forth, your breathing coming too fast and too shallow. A drop of sweat rolled down from your armpit, making you hyperaware of the fact that you were looking like a mess. You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead and groaned; your hairline was wet.

Looking at your dress, you felt bile rise up in your throat.

You should have worn the blue dress. Blue was a nice colour, everyone loved blue. Blue made people calm and at ease. No, instead, you had taken Natasha’s advice and put on the tight orange-red dress that clung to your body and made your breasts look incredible.

But now the dress stuck uncomfortably to your body, the space between your breasts was wet and glistening. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think. Red was the colour of passion, of anger and danger, and you just had to deal with your poor life decision.

Although deep down, you knew it wasn’t about the dress, or its colour.

“Relax,” Natasha said, sipping her lemonade. “I’m here, it’s going to be fine.”

“I am not fucking relaxed, Nat,” you repeated with a scoff. “I’m at a bar, about to meet a potential sugar daddy; that’s not what normal people do on a Friday night.”

“You’d be surprised,” she sassed. You gave her an unimpressed look. “Look, you can live with me for as long as you like, and you can work odd shifts at the hotel for the rest of your life if that’s what you want. But I know you, you’re an artist, and artists need freedom and benefactors. Sam is the reason I finished paying my tuition. You can call him my sugar daddy, but I prefer the word scholarship.”

Yeah, it was only a matter of perspective –and vocabulary. Some may call this whole thing brilliant, others stupid. You weren’t quite sure what to think yet.

“And this guy’s legit?” you asked for the nth time.

“Yes, Sam says he’s a great guy; sweet, handsome, thoughtful. He’s the whole package.”

“Mmmh.”

You eyed the pair of napkins the waiter had placed on the table along with your drinks, and wondered if it would be appropriate to stick them under your armpits to sop up the sweat trickling down your sides.

“Oh, fuck it,” you grumbled, reaching for the napkins.

You patted your armpits dry while you anxiously scanned the growing crowd. It was a high end bar, definitely not your usual hang out spot. The patrons were dressed in designer clothes and wore jewellery that cost more than your three years of art classes at the School of Visual Arts.

“Do we really have to stay sober?”

Natasha cocked a brow at you. “You don’t drink.”

You only groaned in response.

“I know how you’re feeling, I’ve been there, too,” she replied. “It’ll be like a normal first date. You’ll get to know each other, see if you guys hit it off, and if everything goes well you’ll talk about the arrangement. You can’t give consent if you’re under the influence of alcohol, so drink your lemonade and stop fussing, yeah?”

Like an obedient child, you brought the bent straw to your lips and took a quick sip of the icy refreshment. You toyed with the straw and watched the ice cubes slowly shrink. It was strangely soothing.

“They’re here.”

And just like that, your panic returned full force. You snapped your head up and tried to smile when you saw Sam approaching your table. You set your drink down on the coffee table and wiped your clammy hands on your dress.

Natasha stood up and gave Sam a kiss. While she wiped off a smudge of lipstick she had left on his upper lip, you glanced at the man behind Sam.

He was tall, muscular, and had a mysterious air about him. He was dressed casually, in black jeans and white t-shirt with a maroon bomber jacket that suited his pale complexion. The left sleeve of his jacket was tucked inside, empty.

Even without being an expert in behaviour analysis, you could tell he felt uncomfortable. He bowed his head to hide his face and kept looking around as if someone was going to attack him or as if he wanted to know where the nearest exit was.

Sam whispered something in the man’s ear and clapped him on the back before he turned to you.

“Okay, we’ll let you guys get to know each other.” Natasha looped her arm through Sam’s, and gave you an encouraging smile. You heard Sam whispering to his friend again. “Buck, seriously, you look like someone shoved a broomstick up your ass. Relax, man.”

“We’ll be over at the bar if you need anything.”

She gave you a thumbs-up as Sam led her across the crowd, toward the bar. With an authoritative look, Sam pointed to the seat across from yours and mouthed ‘sit’ at his friend who rolled his eyes and ground his teeth in response.

“Hi,” you started, trying to sound cheerful but the slight tremble in your voice gave you away.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he cut you off, “you seem like a nice girl but I’m not looking for anyone, least of all a sugar baby. I told Sam it was a stupid idea, but he never listens. This has nothing to do with you, I’m sure you’re great. I’m really sorry, I hope you’re not disappointed.”

He had barely made eye contact with you during his long-winded speech but you did notice that they were blue. Now that you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, your shoulders lowered and you felt yourself smiling.

“Of course, I understand. I wasn’t particularly thrilled, too. No offense.”

He bent his head and ran a hand through his hair, his lips curved up in a soft smile. “Is your friend as meddling as mine?”

You let out a loud laugh, your eyes widening. “More! If meddling were an Olympic sport, Nat would have more medals than Michael Phelps.”

His shoulders shook in a soundless chuckle but he still wasn’t looking at you. “So why’d you agree?”

You took your glass of lemonade and played with the straw while you searched for an answer that wouldn’t sound too desperate or dramatic. You majestically failed.

“I guess I felt like I had nothing to lose.” You shrugged. “It’s like when you’re standing on the edge of a cliff and you only have two options; jumping off the cliff or getting eaten by a pack of wolves,” you said, checking them off on your fingers as you enumerated them. “You have to choose the lesser of two evils.”

He frowned, a curious glint in his eyes and a hint of a smile curved his lips. Your eyes widened when you realized you might have offended him.

“Not that I think you’re evil,” you rushed to add. “What I meant to say is that sometimes you don’t really have a choice. And when you have no other option but to jump, well... your chances are infinite. Anything can happen.”

He slowly raised his eyes to meet yours, a form of understanding in the depth of his icy blue eyes. He was truly handsome; a little older than the men you usually went out with, but he had kind eyes and very, very nice lips. You looked away, feeling a little foolish.

“Wow, I’m fun at parties, uh? Guess you dodged a bullet,” you laughed, cringing a little as you said it.

He returned a tight smile, loaded with something sad. He looked at you a moment longer and you held your breath, suddenly hoping he would stay and chat. A solemn expression crossed his face and he seemed to go through some kind of inner struggle before he reached a decision.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, shaking your hand before wishing you goodnight. You watched him leave the bar, his shoulders hunched forward, looking as tense as he did when he entered.

That tiny flicker of hope left with him.

“Hey!” Sam called out, a deep frown on his face as he approached you. “Where is he going?”

“It didn’t work out,” you answered with a shrug.

Sam deflated. “I bet he didn’t even try.”

“Does it really matter?” you replied, shrugging into your coat, something way too thin for the changing weather. “He’s not ready, and honestly, you can’t blame him. This sugar daddy-baby thing isn’t for everyone.”

“I know that,” Sam argued, blowing out a frustrated breath. He turned to Natasha, silently pleading with her to understand, but she was as clueless as you were.

There were lots of reasons Sam wanted Bucky to meet you, and none of them included sex. It was difficult to explain his motivations without betraying his friend’s trust; without telling you too much about Bucky.

“I’m not trying to find him a girlfriend,” Sam continued. “He needs more friends, and he has connections to help you in the art world. I thought you two could help each other out.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck and grabbed the backpack you had shoved under your seat. It contained your work uniform, clean underwear, toiletries, a bottle of water, your wallet, and a couple of granola bars. Your whole life was in that backpack.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” you said, adjusting the trap of your bag. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.” You turned to Nat. “I’m going to stay at the hotel tonight, my shift starts at 6 so you’ll have the apartment to yourself.”

Without waiting for an answer, you disappeared into the crowd and headed for the door. Outside the wind was blowing, the cold air biting at your face and bare legs. You took a deep breath, watching as the cold air turned your breath into white smoke.

People were milling about, taking pictures of the skyscrapers, walking hand-in-hand and marvelling at pretty much anything. New York was full of contradictions; kind and hard, smooth and rough, poor and rich. It was exciting to live here, it was exciting to see how people lived together despite their differences. For an artist such as yourself, it was a gold mine of infinite inspiration.

In front of you, a taxi drove closer to the curb, then slowed as a man stepped onto the street and opened the door. He looked over his shoulder and saw you standing there. Sam’s friend smiled at you.

He noticed your light coat, your backpack and your scuffed ankle boots. It was hard to believe that under your coat, you were wearing a sexy little number. He imagined that this was more your style, and he liked it. It was fresh, laidback, casual. He could even see a few drops of paint on the toe of your boots, a smattering of orange and blue.

“Hi, again,” he said. “Wanna share a cab?”

You nodded eagerly, your face half buried in your scarf. You were positively freezing, you didn’t even think twice about following him. He let you climb in first and jumped in after you, angling his body to hide his missing arm.

You gave the driver the address of a Holiday Inn in the Flatiron District and sank into the seat. It dawned on you that you didn’t even know his name. Sam had called him Buck, but you were pretty sure it was one of those nicknames only long-time friends are allowed to use.

“Bucky,” he said with a genuine smile after you told him your name. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening. How long are you going to stay in town?”

“No worries, you didn’t ruin anything. And I live in New York. I live with Natasha.”

“Aren’t we going to a hotel?” Bucky asked, looking out the window with a frown.

“Yup, I work there. Breakfast attendant. I figured Sam and Nat would like some privacy and sometimes my co-worker at the front desk let me borrow a room for the night.”

The car pulled to a stop at the curb and you reached into the front pocket of your backpack to retrieve your wallet. Bucky stopped you.

“Please, let me pay,” he said. “As a sorry for dragging you to a bar and leaving without even telling you my name.”

“Ouch, yes, when you put it like that it wasn’t a great night,” you said with a crooked smile. He responded with an exaggerated cringe. It made you laugh. “Hey, it wasn’t you who dragged me to a bar, it was Sam. You can always tell him to pay you back.”

His eyes brightened. “I definitely will.”

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you giggled, closing the door behind you. You walked up to the big automatic doors and waved goodbye one last time.

“’Night, angel.”

Bucky asked the driver to wait until you were safe inside before driving away. As he watched you, he thought back to what you had said earlier.

Your chances are infinite. Anything can happen.

This time, it made him smile.

part 2

[luzarya]

To Hunt A Creature

twst x Yuu

Summary: Yuu, as all know, came from another world. Not a word about their past however.

Until something from their world arrives, and Yuu deals with it alone.

Ao3 link: here

warnings and tags: some violence, mention of blood, not beta read

word count: 1,910

--

If it was something that Yuu desperately wanted to leave behind, it was their past. So far, they never once had to explain it, keeping it locked away.

But today was different.

Yuu felt something was amiss in the morning, feeling something that they thought they wouldn’t have felt in this world. It was odd, but it brought a sense of panic to Yuu.

“Grim,” Yuu called out to the sleeping feline, “Hey, Grim.”

Grim mumbled something in his sleep, then finally opened up his eyes, “Eh, what is it?”

Yuu gave a small smile, “I’ll be a bit late to class today, so on without me.”

“Eh? But it’s pretty early? Why are ya gonna be late?”

“I want to shower,” Yuu lied, “I forgot to take one last night and it’s bothering me.”

“Sheesh,” Grim huffed, “You and your long showers. Well…” He paused, “I guess it’s fine, as long as I get some tuna!”

“Of course!”

Yuu never attended class.

It was the afternoon, and it has been a few slow hours tracking down the creature in the forest, the creature that was the cause of it all. It was only because of Yuu’s previous experiences did Yuu ever notice, really.

If the creature isn’t taken down, then it would only grow stronger and stronger, until it no longer can be contained, destroying its surroundings in the process.

Yuu wanted to get rid of it while the creature was young, or at least, before anyone noticed that anything was amiss.

It was calming, to say the least.

Perhaps it was because this life was all that Yuu had known, or perhaps it was because their body sorely needed something like this. Yuu often didn’t get a chance to show their skills, lest anyone would question their entire identity.

Yuu walked slowly, careful to keep quiet. A glance told them that the creature was nearby, fresh prints in the mud. It didn’t take much for Yuu to realize that the creature was likely a little too nearby, faintly able to pick up the breathing of the creature.

It was calm, sounding just like any other animal to anyone else, though to Yuu, they could pick up the slight raggedness of it, too atypical to be that of a normal animal.

Yuu turned ever so slightly, their eyes meeting the figure of the beast that they had been tracking. It startled them for a brief moment, but they quickly calmed. The creature, without a doubt, was from their world.

The creature turned its head, now spotting Yuu. It bellowed out a roar, and then lunged towards them. But Yuu’s muscle memory kicked into action, allowing them to dodge the creature’s attack.

Your movements flowed smoothly, as if you weren’t inactive as a hunter for months on end. Yet, despite this, you could already feel the ache of your muscles, but that feeling was also familiar; thus your body continued despite its protests.

You pulled out a dagger, feeling the cold metal in your hand. With a thrust, you plunged your dagger into the creature’s flesh, blood splattering out and landing on your person.

Thus, a dance began.

The creature would lunge forward, and you would dodge. It would swipe at you, but you were quick enough to go to the side, out of it’s reach, landing another attack on it. This continued, your lungs burning, the creature persistent with its assaults. Few times did the creature managed to wound you, but you didn’t care- you were just. So. Close.

You don’t know how long it lasted, nor did you keep track of the number of times you landed a hit on the creature, and vice versa. But by the time the creature’s body landed on the ground with a loud thud.

But Yuu didn’t rest, no, they instead pulled something from their pouch. It was a vial of holy water, something of which Yuu had to make themselves. They also took out a pair of ear plugs, putting them in, then pouring the holy water onto the creature.

The creature let out an ear-shattering howl, and despite the earplugs, Yuu’s ear still hurt. Yuu took a step back as they saw the holy water melt the creature’s flesh, the creature crawling with much effort, but to no avail. Slowly, it made its way towards Yuu, and by the time it managed to crawl right in front of Yuu, who merely stared at it, the beast let out one last pitiful screech, before its head slumped against Yuu’s shoes, its body no longer moving.

It took only a few minutes for the body to dissolve into nothing but dust, of which was when Yuu knelt, taking out the earplugs and putting them away, clasping their hands together, closing their eyes, whispering out a prayer.

Blades of light appeared, striking down the dust. Somehow, it managed to get all of the dust, completely removing any evidence that the creature ever lived, with a small exception.

A small purple stone remained, glowing brightly, as if asking to be taken.

And Yuu complied, wordlessly picking up the stone, albeit carefully, then standing up. The stone shook in their grasp, puffs of black smoke swirling around Yuu’s arm, but never harming them. Eventually, it shook more and more, as if angry, but after a few minutes of absolutely nothing happening, the stone became still- signifying that it had given up.

Smiling, Yuu pulled out a pouch littered with faded runes and sigils, placing the stone within.

“Heh, guess I still have it in me, huh?” Yuu laughed, putting away the stone.

It was then when Yuu’s actions finally caught up with them.

Yuu’s legs gave out, causing Yuu to fall harshly against the forest floor. Yuu let out a yelp, followed by a string of curses.

It was only lunch, judging by the position of the sun, as far as Yuu could tell, which meant that there was a chance that someone would find them- but Yuu knew that it was unlikely. Grim probably assumed that they were skipping school- which admittedly was technically true.

Yuu quietly cursed again, trying to move their arms. Yuu managed to move them, but not without feeling the pain from all the gashes and wounds they’ve endured from the fight.

A thought came to Yuu.

Weakly, Yuu took out a knife, pulling out the blade. They pressed the tip onto the dirt, and began making an intricate design. They had spent only a few minutes on it, and once they were done, Yuu shifted their arm, the wound parallel to the ground. Yuu then used their free hand and pressed against the wound, forcing the once closing wound to open up, the stream of blood regaining life.

Drops of blood spilt onto the ground, as Yuu began muttering phrases.

It became dark, until it became too dark that Yuu couldn’t see a thing. Yuu became silent, moving their arms so that they laid at their sides. At this point, Yuu could feel the consequences of losing all the blood, and for a moment, Yuu regretted not eating prior to the fight.

Through the midst of the heavy air and silence, a voice rang out.

“So, you’ve called, at last, my dear?”

The darkness dissipated, the forest and its surrounding returning within Yuu’s line of sight- with a new addition.

The owner of the voice stood quite the distance away from Yuu, looking down at them.

“Just come and help me,” Yuu seethed, glaring at the figure, “I wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t desperate.”

“I know,” the demoness replied, “I’m just surprised, is all. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Yep. Now, help me.”

“Heh, fine. Just for old time’s sake.”

The demoness, who was dressed in a red suit, the jacket hanging on their shoulders, walked slowly over to Yuu. Once the demoness was just a foot away, they just gave Yuu a glance, stroking their chin.

Then, with a snap of the demoness’ fingers, all of Yuu’s wounds healed. It wasn’t a painless process, however, as Yuu slumped over into the ground, the demoness letting out a small yelp as they jumped back out of Yuu’s way.

It took a moment for Yuu’s wounds to completely heal, and even then, they were still weak.

“Perhaps, it’s been too long,” the demoness muttered, as they went over to Yuu and picked them up, “Now, my darling, show me the way to your new home.”

“It’s over there…”

“Thank you.~”

The demoness then began walking. It would have been more convenient to fly over the forest, and be ‘home’ in an instant, but this was a different land. Unknown. Unseen.

And the demoness didn’t want to take chances in a world in which they were ignorant of its customs and culture- who knows how it would react to someone like her.

So it took a while. By the time the demoness had arrived at the place that Yuu had called ‘home’, there were three figures, from what she could sense. Yuu, at this point, was fast asleep.

Quietly, as they could, they walked over, careful to not be seen. Gently, they propped the sleeping Yuu against the wall. The demoness glanced around- the figures hadn’t noticed yet.

Good.

The demoness then walked away, and once she had deemed that there was enough distance between her and everyone else, she threw a rock.

And another.

And another.

Until one of the figures had the brains to investigate.

“The heck? Where are these rocks coming from?”

The demoness hide within the bushes.

Within the demoness’ line of vision, they saw two boys, one with red hair while the other with blue, and a fat dark cat with flames.

“Eh, is that Yuu?” The fat cat grumbles.

“Oh Great Seven,” the blue haired kid exclaimed, “It is!”

The demoness watched as the blue haired boy ran over to Yuu, picking them up with great ease. Naturally, this woke up Yuu, who began to immediately struggle in the boy’s grasp until the boy said something.

Whatever the boy had said, it was enough to calm Yuu down.

“Oh… It’s you, Deuce,” Yuu sighed.

“Geez,” the red haired kid scoffs, “Where were you? All the teachers gave that look of disapproval, y’know.”

“Yea!” The cat replies, “You left me all alone! You said you were just gonna be late! What’s the deal? Why are you wearing different clothes? Why do you smell like blood, huh?”

“Blood? Oh, that’s-”

“Eh?!” Deuce gave Yuu a look-over, “You were bleeding!? We need to get your insides!”

“Deuce, I’m fine-”

“How are you not dead?”

“Ace-”

At this point, the demoness was getting annoyed. A look from Yuu indicated that they felt their annoyance, which didn’t go unchecked by their friends.

“What are ya lookin’ at?” The cat turned to the demoness’ direction. “Is there somethin’ there, eh?”

“No, Grim-”

The demoness let out a sigh, and then revealed themselves. The two boys, Ace and Deuce, and the fat cat named Grim, stared at the demoness.

For a good moment, all was quiet, until someone broke the silence.

“So. This is Aristomache…. But she goes by Mache for short ...” Yuu said, letting out a nervous laugh.

At this, Mache smiled at the teenagers, lifting up her hand, open for a handshake. “Hello, friends of my darling, it’s a pleasure.”

Silence….

…

…

…

“...Yuu, what the heck…”

“Oh, shut up.”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Satisfied, Part 28

First

Previous

Next

~~~

The pair sprinted out of the store, blonde in tow. It took about half a minute for Chloe to finally process everything going on, and another ten seconds for her to finally catch her footing enough for them to let go.

Marinette chanced a look back and cringed. A few people had stayed inside the store for various reasons but most were following after them, phones in hand. She pulled up her hood.

Dick glanced at both of them as they neared a crowded escalator. “Can you guys hop a railing?”

“Obviously,” said Marinette.

“... No? What the hell?” Chloe said.

Marinette and Dick gave each other a look before he groaned.

“Sorry for this.”

“For wha --?” The girl began but she, unfortunately, got her answer pretty quickly. He picked her up and held her to his chest, resting a hand over the back of her neck.

The two vigilantes gave each other a small nod before they jumped over the railing. Neither of them pointed out the fact that they both had perfect form, or that it was clearly an everyday thing for them. Because now more people were staring.

“Didn’t think this through, huh?” Chloe commented as she was let down.

“Shut up,” muttered Dick.

And then they were running again.

A quick look back at the crowd chasing them made her face pale. Fun! Now security thought they were thieves.

“Oh, come on, do you guys have to do your jobs?” She whined.

Ah, crap. They were losing Chloe. Dick was distracted, pulling out his wallet (for some reason) and hadn’t noticed.

Marinette bit her cheek. They could just leave her. A glance at the security footage would clear her name. It would be fi--.

She skidded to a stop and wheeled around. Damn it.

When Chloe got to her, she threw her over her shoulder and started up again. She raced to catch up with their third member, who was now dropping money on the floor.

She blinked a few times to process this, then shook her head and ran faster.

“The hell, Dick?” Chloe yelled as they stepped out into the sun.

“The less people chasing us the better! I can afford it!” He said.

They gave a pause at the edge of the parking lot. Their car was... well, they didn’t know.

“Random alley and hope we don’t get mugged?” Marinette offered.

“Yeah,” Dick said.

They passed off Chloe like a baton and then broke into a run again.

Five minutes later, they were panting in an alleyway. Marinette looked down to check her clothes weren’t originals before dropping onto her back and spreading out in the grime. Dick all but dropped the girl he was holding and leaned against a wall as he tried to catch his breath.

Chloe, who hadn’t run in a little while, was mostly just holding her probably bruised stomach (Marinette hadn’t taken time to make sure she was positioned properly on her shoulder).

“The PR team is gonna hate meeeeee,” complained Dick, who was sliding down the wall very slowly.

“You know...” Began Chloe, who seemed a bit hesitant to say anything.

“What?” Hissed Marinette, squeezing her eyes shut.

“You probably could have said that Mari was going to be future Wayne adoptee number 453542 and no one would have batted an eye.”

There was a short silence, then a string of very creative cursing from both of them.

After they had cursed enough to feel marginally better, Dick turned to Marinette. “Remember when I told you that you should let go of your anger?”

“Mhmm...”

“Not with her. Stay mad. She’s smarter than us. That’s not allowed.”

Chloe gave a short laugh and held out a hand to each of them to get up.

Marinette smiled and took it.

~

It took a week for her to be allowed on patrol again. This was good for her job, she was actually getting work done (she had even finished Adrien’s outfit!), but also dreadfully boring at times.

So, when she was finally told on the comms that she could come back, she was somewhat disappointed when Red Hood said that he was going to take the day to teach her sparring.

There was, unsurprisingly, a bit of an argument over this.

“Red Hood can’t mentor her! She already has less morals than us, we can’t just let him corrupt her!” Nightwing hissed.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“I’m doing this to teach her to communicate her injuries. Would you like me not to do that?”

Batman sighed. “No, but maybe someone else would be better suited than you to --.”

“I’m better suited than all of you!”

“Why don’t we just go over and abduct Ladybug?” Chimed in Robin.

“Yeah, do your weird dad thing and track his credit card,” said Red Robin.

Batman sputtered for a response, then sighed. “I guess I could...”

“Suckers! I’m using cash!” Red Hood said, which was met with a string of cursing.

Marinette turned off her comm with a small roll of her eyes. “Tikki, spots on,” she muttered.

Only to scream.

Because the hands and feet of her costume weren’t appearing.

She stared at the glowing purple at her wrists and ankles. As she watched, it retreated up her arms very slightly. Her costume was disappearing before her eyes.

She swallowed thickly. What could she do? She couldn’t really switch miraculi. Ladybug was already well-known enough there to have a costume made of her. But, ethically, could she continue on like this, knowing how Tikki must be suffering? And even if she did, how? The purple was glowing. It would be hard to miss.

Marinette mulled this over for a bit before walking around her apartment. She picked up the pro-fighter gloves she’d stolen from the Waynes and a set of parkour shoes. At least they were black. She didn’t know what she’d do if her outfit didn’t even slightly match.

A few minutes after she’d pulled them on, Red Hood opened the door to her apartment.

She blinked. “Didn’t I lock that?”

“Yeah, I learned how to pick house locks while you were out,” he explained.

She gave a small frown but shrugged it off and pushed past him. He caught her hand and raised his eyebrows at her new look. Dang, she hadn’t even gotten out the door.

“What’s up with the new outfit?”

She shrugged casually and pulled her hand from his grip. “Honestly? I was getting tired of the plain outfit. Figured I’d start upgrading it over time.”

He looked a bit skeptical. She couldn’t blame him. The last time he’d seen her in this costume she’d been shot. She’d think that she was getting weaker, too.

And she was. But he didn’t need to know that.

Okay, so maybe Jason had had a point. So what?

They slipped out the window and started making their way across the rooftops.

“You’d tell me if there was anything wrong, right?” Red Hood said as he hopped another roof with ease.

She tipped her head to the side and considered this. It was the whole point of what they were doing, getting her to admit when she needed help. But she brushed this aside. She couldn’t get help for this. The only way to fix it was to give someone the cat miraculous.

And she didn’t know if she trusted Robin enough yet.

So she smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, you worry too much. Relax. I’m a designer, remember? Of course I’d want a more intricate outfit than plain spandex.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he nodded. “Good.”

She bit back her guilt. “Where are we going, anyways?”

“Private studio.”

She nodded and they continued on in silence. She always hated silence. It gave her way too much time to think. About the way she was getting weaker with every transformation. About how she was supposed to hide it. About whether it was right to do so.

Marinette was glad when they finally touched ground outside a dojo.

They stepped inside and the person at the front blinked a few times. “It’s really you,” he said.

Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Take a picture, it’d last longer.”

She swatted him over the back of the head when the attendant actually began to take out his phone. “You can take one afterwards, okay? We’d prefer not to be hounded right when we leave.”

The man nodded and sheepishly put his phone away. They were led into a private room not unlike the one the Waynes had (though, admittedly, far lower in budget).

Red Hood crossed his arms. “Right. Ground rules: we fight until one of us gives up, we have to give up when we’re in pain or completely pinned, and two taps on whatever you can reach is a give up.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why two taps?”

He gave a shrug. “It’s what Nightwing and Batman drilled into all of us. My guess is one could be an accident and three just feels excessive.”

Marinette nodded. Fair enough.

She could feel him watching while they stretched and groaned. “I’m fine. I barely even feel it anymore.”

“We can postpone if you need, I don’t care about the money.”

She rolled her eyes. “Relaaaaax.”

All he gave her was a stern look in return.

“Kwami, you’re beginning to look like Batman, scowling like that.”

He gasped. “You take that back!”

“Nope,” she grinned, pushing herself to her feet.

They both got into fighting positions.

They eyed each other warily as they circled each other. Marinette didn’t know Red Hood’s fighting style for close-combat, and Red Hood seemed to be considering his options.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she eyed him up and down. He was certainly strong, a quick glance showed that, but did he know how to use it? He had years of vigilante experience, surely he must know some hand-to-hand combat, right? Then again, he was only really known for using guns. Maybe she could beat him, maybe not. She didn’t want to underestimate him...

He lunged forward and she had to jump over him to dodge, using his back as a vault so she could land on her feet. He stumbled forwards a step and whipped around just in time to earn a kick in the stomach. To her surprise, though, he didn’t double over all that much, only giving a small wheeze at the blow. He must be used to hand-to-hand, then, if he could take a kick like that.

Damn.

They narrowed their eyes at each other.

He ran forward, hand coming up for a punch. She grinned and dodged the easy attack. He must be trying to figure out her style. She’d just have to make sure to stay inconsistent --.

His leg swiped under her and she cringed as she hit the ground with a dull thud, only just managing to roll out of the way when he came down after her.

A hand locked around her leg and she cursed, kicking up in a weak attempt to break his grip, but he held fast. With a quick twist she was forced onto her stomach to avoid messing up her ankle and she groaned as he leaned forward to press her head onto the mat. She wiggled around awkwardly underneath him, only to sigh when she realized she wasn’t getting out of it.

There was a beat.

She reluctantly tapped the ground twice.

His weight shifted off of her and she sent him a glare as she flipped onto her back.

He gave her a small smile, holding out a hand to help her up.

“You know, if I didn’t think Nightwing would infect you with his stupid morals, I’d let him train you. You have similar fighting styles. Very... jump-y.”

She scoffed and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. “Fight with him often?”

“You have no idea,” he said with a slight grin. “Best two out of three?”

She nodded and brought her hands back up to her face.

After a little bit of fighting she’d managed to get a grasp on his fighting style. It seemed a mix of a bunch of different martial arts, but he seemed to put an emphasis on pins rather than genuinely painful attacks.

With this in mind, she was actually able to win some. He definitely won more than she did, he wasn’t going easy on her at all, but it was nice to not lose every time.

Red Hood handed her a water bottle and rested an arm around her shoulders as she drank it. “Same time next week?”

She grinned and wiped her mouth. “Don’t trust me to tap out all the time, yet?”

“You’re getting better,” he admitted, then ruffled her hair. “You’re finally tapping out at the moment you realize you’re not getting up, but I’d like you to start doing it while you’re being pinned instead of after.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

“Fine, fine. I’ll... consider it.”

He sent her a halfhearted glare. She smiled cheekily and rested a hand over the doorknob. “Ready for the press?”

“Never am,” he muttered.

They both brought their widest smiles to their faces as they stepped out to greet the paparazzi.

~~~

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<3

[dourpeep]

So like, whose your favorite chars and ships and roles? *rolls all over your blog* I know you like albedo, as you should, but I feel like your big brain hides hidden potential of reasons

Ehe I have a lot to say and a lot of people to go through so...most will be under the cut. Like this is really just going to be me going on about what I like about a bunch of characters.

My works are a love letter to the characters nodnod y'know that quote--

Oh!! Okay okay uhhh here's a few of my faves and reasons:

Albedo:

There's a lot of similar interests-! Also being an alchemist/scientist is my dream.

His personality is very sweet and his interactions with others (like during the Golden Apple Archipelago) are hilarious and endearing. Like...the whole slipping away while Diluc and Kaeya were bickering? His little comment hinting that he had to yell at them while riding Dvalin due to the wind and their volume? Then every interaction with Klee (including his character trailer) are so wholesome uuuuu

Albedo, my beloved-

His outfit!! I want to get Albedo cosplay just for the jacket

Also his movements, attack wise, are very polished and clean-cut! It's pretty obvious that his style is similar to that of fencing, but then you also see that he often will condense his sword into pure geo or thrust it out in a burst of gold!! And his Q???? He snaps and then his burst just---bursts fourth out of the ground???

Man's skilled.

And then ehe...I just really am into the archetype of a smart, gentle, yet modest person and he fits that bill perfectly.

I can't wait to see more about him! We know such a small amount about him since his character story was intertwined w/ introducing Dragonspine and also more about him testing the Traveler--also we didn't get to play as him during it :<<

Xiao

He is a very gentle character who's been through so much and I admire his ambition and willingness and selflessness

I really like his attacks, too--the fluidity of his movements that ties in with his backstory and just his personality in general

I also want his outfit

There's just something about his character that is incredibly appealing--you see him at his worst with the Karmic Debt, the rawness of his personality due to his blunt way of speaking and the earnestness that he displays

Lots of quiet protection nodnod. You have to talk to one of the NPCs to find this out, but he helped a little girl get her doll back after it'd been taken by Hilichurls. He didn't have to do it because it's not something that people would consider important, but his duty extends beyond that. If he can help it, he will lend a hand

Also the interactions we have?? Like when he saves Traveler (the subtle shift of his grip on their hand, a little offer of stability) and then in Moonchase now?? *chef's kiss*

Xinyan

I LOVE HER

First off, she's a rockstar who's taken something and made it entirely her own?? Her guitar is of her own design too!! It's made to work with her pyro vision!!! Like how cool is that????

Her personality is strong, down to earth--ugh man she's so cool

I want to be friends with her so bad

She's absolutely strong-I personally built her as a phys dps so her shield doesn't really do much but man does she carry. If none of the boys can handle the job, I swap her in and she sweeps the field clean. Those mobs never stood a chance nodnod

Her aesthetic!! I also want her outfit. I want everyone's outfit.

While her en voice got a lot of questions/hate, I love it. I can't help but feel pumped up and ready when I use her skill and burst and she shouts out "Time to rock!!"

Her dedication to her music and unyielding determination to get her name out there is incredible, I can't help but admire her passion for music.

I just really love music, even if I'm trained more for classical + operatic ehe rock's actually my favorite genre so it's all the more better!

Xingqiu

Ah! The first time I saw him I immediately decided that I'd adopt him on the spot nodnod kinda like having a kid brother, y'know?? I think we'd get along well

Also the fact that he's a bookworm??? Again, I gravitate towards people who are considered smart--no matter what it's about! You could be incredibly knowledgeable about snails and only that and I will listen to you go on and on

He's a prankster! Poor Chongyun, being the butt of most of his jokes and all.

But like his character is really cute and I had a lot of fun listening to all his voicelines--there's a lot of funny stuff going on with him like his dislike for carrots, his handwriting-- but then he's also dedicated to his martial arts and helping others no matter the task! Very chivalrous indeed nodnod

A few of my other favorites are: Beidou, Kazuha, Scaramouche (it's a love hate)

Moving onnnn!!

I'll do roles first :DD

My favorite to play, hands down, are full on DPS and Support/DPS. Xiao, Kazuha, Albedo, Xinyan, Kaeya-- there's a lot but these are the peeps that I have, am currently, or would main.

I started off as a hybrid Kaeya main (some phys, some elemental), then Xiao's been my main DPS since!

Kazuha is incredible in tandem w/ Xiao because of his cc as well as his em buffs nodnod. Also Kazuha is just really fun to play in general.

Ngl, I think that getting and playing Xiao basically ruined all other characters for me because you can pry his attacks and burst plunging (very fun) out of my cold, dead hands (/j). The quickness of his attacks and playstyle--lots of poking w/ spear and then dodge + attack at the same time with his skill. 10/10 very fun, absolutely love.

As for support/DPS, this is more fun to do in co-op ehe. I usually end up playing Kazuha, Raiden (her skill gives all party members that passive extra electro dmg whenever you land a hit) or another elemental-based character--

That being said, elemental damage, when paired up to procc reactions is ugh sooo good.

Ships!!

I saved this for last because I know it's not everyone's cup of tea ehe. After all, I'm an x Reader blog!

But that being said--

I like the idea of XiaoVen, but I prefer KazuXiao because I feel like they'd work better together--this kinda goes over why. There'd be a lot of respect between the two.

Though, XiaoVen is really cute because they have complimenting personalities nodnod. Also froggie hat. And the idea of Venti being the one to play the flute that helped Xiao.

BeigGuang!!! Their dynamic is hilarious--not to mention that they do get along well but just so happen to butt heads often because their views are so wildly different-

YanTao! I feel that they'd be really cute together! Also Yanfei would probably make sure that Hu Tao stays out of trouble ehe...

XingYun! Very cute and wholesome--platonic or romantic, either way. The fact that they have matching friendship tassels?? Xingqiu seeking Chongyun out to read to him? OTL

I don't have any NOTPs, at least among the popular ships but I do get a little icky about AlbeRose because of some...unsavory experiences due to someone who overstepped. So ehe. We'll not talk about that.

But like Sucrose is really cute! I love her character and she's very sweet and the excitement that she shows with her research is something I relate to heavily! It's just--ahh the ship itself was ruined for me.

[doorsclosingslowly]

No-one will ever call this bluff

When Obi-Wan and Ventress fight Maul and his apprentice on Raydonia, a crate breaks open. Inside: an airborne poison. 6.6k | TCW Episode 4.22 Revenge AU | warning for serious illness

“Down!” Ventress shouts. “Down, Kenobi!”

Blindly, Obi-Wan throws himself to the floor and only then he rolls and risks a glance over his shoulder. The miss was far too near. Obi-Wan’s unexpected ally intervened just in time: the lumbering Sith almost managed to drive his lightsaber into his back. In the crate a foot’s width behind Obi-Wan there is a smoking hole at chest-height that could have spelled his doom, but now, with wide swings of her ‘saber, Ventress forces Savage Opress away and towards another one of the myriad crates stacked here in this nondescript cargo hold that Obi-Wan woke up, in after Maul and his new accessory Opress beat him up.

Her next swing connects, though unfortunately the small flesh wound in the Sith’s dominant left arm won’t disable him. It just spews out strange green miasma, even though the cut should have been cauterized. The following strike cleaves a massive hole into a durasteel crate, because Opress apparently learned how to duck just in time. Whoever packed this freighter was not beholden to Republic safety standards, it seems, because the whole crate, besides being completely unsecured to the wall, is just stuffed full of some fine white powder that now plumes out, dusting the crouching Sith all over with its fine particles.

A warning in the force, just in time again, and Obi-Wan jumps up and parries Darth Maul’s attack with Ventress’ second lightsaber.

Maul does not press his advantage. He throws a curt glance in the direction of his apprentice, disapproving and disappointed. Obi-Wan almost hopes for Ventress’ cry of victory, but then the flurry of movement at the edge of Obi-Wan’s field of vision reveals that the massive zabrak must have regained his footing and is locked in his battle with Asajj Ventress once more.

It’s their distinct advantage, Obi-Wan realizes: he and Asajj have fought side-by-side in their weird alliance before, but for all that Opress appears to be beholden to his fellow zabrak, they do not seem to fight together. Opress kicked Obi-Wan around at Darth Maul’s direction—strange, too, that he would eschew the force for fists—but they’re not fighting as one. Just next to each other. Unless Maul gives the other zabrak direct orders, and even then, they are less than a seasoned team. A few weeks ago, Opress was still Dooku’s lackey, and back then he was just as lousy of a team player. He does not seem to have improved just because his new Master shares his species. We’re outmatched, Obi-Wan just told Ventress, but perhaps…

Perhaps…

Obi-Wan does not want to flee. He came here to Raydonia—at least presumably that’s where they still are, he hasn’t heard any tattletale vibration of engines—he came to this obvious trap at the behest of a long-buried monster, but also: for a mountain of corpses. He saw them in the holo, and before Savage beat him up and dragged him in here, he smelt them. He’s had a regrettably thorough acquaintance with the stench of burning flesh since becoming a frontline General of the GAR, but still, he fancies the Raydonia massacre even more horrendous, more pungent, for what it represents. Civilians, children, monstrously slaughtered, and for what reason? Simply as the holo message to the temple said: to draw him out?

He does not want to flee—he came here alone despite all the signs that that’s what his enemy expected—because this is Darth Maul. The unfinished business he thought done and dusted years ago. The death that merited his promotion to Master. The murderer of the halcyon Jedi Master, his beloved teacher Qui-Gon; the harbinger of the end of eons of Jedi supremacy over the Sith; the enemy that Obi-Wan cut apart. Quickly he was distracted away from his nightmares back then because he needed to keep up with his new whirlwind padawan, but there was one moment he could not forget. Sai tok. Bisection. That confused painful grimace. The sheer brutality that Obi-Wan used to dispatch his assailant on Naboo seared itself into his mind, never mind that it was rightly deserved then and a few hours ago proved to be far better than Maul deserves… Never mind that the monster somehow survived his mutilation…

He does not want to flee. Darth Maul murdered these people to draw out Obi-Wan. If he escapes, there’s every reason to believe he’ll do it again.

Besides, Obi-Wan was but a padawan when he bested Maul. In the intervening decade he has taught, studied, followed the force. He has led the GAR into battle. He can turn this fight to his advantage, especially with Ventress by his side; regardless of Maul’s acquisition of Dooku’s castoff acolyte he can now do it right and aim for the neck. They just need to be smarter about it. One against one is fine, but if they take out the weak link together and then focus their combined might on Maul… It’s worth a try.

So Obi-Wan strikes at Opress whenever he gets in range, and he tries to get in range as often as possible.

Savage Opress, rudely, seems exclusively preoccupied by Ventress; even when Obi-Wan manages to wound his other shoulder he quickly focuses all his attention, his growls, his attacks back onto her. The two have a history, though: and not just under Dooku, it seems from Opress’ growl in the beginning. A Dathomir witch—she betrayed me, he said. Whatever that means. He apparently can’t let go enough of his past to realize that in this fight, Obi-Wan is at least as deadly a foe. Despite this fact or maybe because of it, it doesn’t take long before the gargantuan Sith starts faltering. His attacks miss by wider margins; his feet barely find stable ground. Once, when Obi-Wan comes close, he can see the sweat beading on the zabrak’s brow, the feverish tinge to his yellow skin. He’s fighting for breath. Maul, meanwhile, doesn’t seem at all aware of the predicament his apprentice is in. Maybe Obi-Wan’s attacks, designed to make him dodge as far back as possible, have managed to distract him, or maybe he just doesn’t care.

Ventress, however, throws him an amused smirk. She’s moving in a perfect complement, pincer-like, subtly helping cage in the lesser Sith towards the cockpit of the ship.

Slash, stab, slash, and then—

Opress trips. He trips, or it’s the coughing fit that suddenly wracks his massive frame—whatever the cause, he tumbles to the floor, barely keeping hold of his ignited double ‘saber. Barely keeping hold and barely not cutting himself up with the still-burning energy blades, missing his own arm by a hair’s breadth when he tries to shield his chest with his hands out of some strange useless instinct and then he hits the ground, back-first and uncushioned. The access pad of the cockpit blinks red just meters to the right of him, and his face answers, flushed unhealthily pink and sweat-slick.

“Gotcha.” Ventress raises her ‘saber—

A sudden whirlwind of naked tattoos and metal chicken legs, Maul parries her.

The sound is so quiet behind the whirr of the lightsabers that Obi-Wan almost thinks he hallucinated it, but why would he? No, that sounded like Opress, and it sounded like… “Didn’t let him free. Not allowed to take two mates. Not him too.” Gibberish, and he has no time to decipher it, curious as he may be as to the fatuous Sith’s motivations.

Darth Maul sets his hand down on Opress’ head to steady himself—Ventress’ strike must have been strong enough to unbalance him, or he chose the wrong footing in his rush—and then he wipes it against his own head: leaving a stripe of white powdered residue. He raises his lightsaber. He grins. “Two against one. That brings back some memories, does it not, Kenobi?”

“This time when I dismember you, I’ll remember you’re a cockroach,” Obi-Wan replies.

A dismissive shrug is all he receives in answer. “Feel free to join me when you’ve finished your midday nap, apprentice,” Maul throws over his shoulder, and then he starts feinting and stabbing tirelessly until both Ventress and Obi-Wan have retreated several tens of meters back across the cargo hold. He’s as acrobatic and cocksure as he was on Naboo back then, guarding the whole width of the cargo hold against both of them. Guarding. Yes, that is the word, Obi-Wan suddenly realizes. Flashy as they may be, his strikes are defensive in nature: designed to keep them occupied and retreating, but barring a gross mistake none would be the kind to wound. And yet, Darth Maul lured Obi-Wan here, presumably to murder him. You will suffer as I have suffered was the threat if he recalls correctly. This is not suffering. He’s abandoned his original aims, then. Opress’ sudden dizzy spell seems to have unsettled Maul.

Maul is far more hardy than his apprentice was, but even he has his limits—after what feels like an hour of Maul jabbing and both of them dodging, and Opress’ pleas to various family members (mother, brother, sister, brother again), his face is shining with sweat just as Savage Opress is, though with his red coloring there’s no way to see the red tinge that is probably present as well. Barely, he dances out of the way of Ventress’ strike before trying to drive her back again. It shouldn’t give Obi-Wan any pleasure to realize this—and it doesn’t—but the defeat on Naboo seems to have robbed Maul of much of his grace, his skill, even though it has only made him more bloodthirsty.

He won’t be able to wage this battle forever. Obi-Wan rejoices in his instincts, and in the force, that told him not to flee: even if Maul decides to give up on this battle now and manages to escape, his brutish companion hasn’t moved from his spot except to jab listlessly at the imaginary girlfriend he’s been whimpering to. He’ll be easy prey. Maul is the diseased brain, and taking him out would benefit the galaxy far more—but in a pinch Obi-Wan will settle for his new stooge.

He’ll—

The thin hairs on Obi-Wan’s arms raise with electric static, and then thunder shakes the cargo hold. The walls bob and drop like those of a capsule on a water planet in storm; more crates drop, releasing their miscellaneous contents, spreading mealpacks and hydrosacks and another burst of white powder and holopads and sundry more items all over the floor; and Ventress grabs Obi-Wan’s shoulder to steady both herself and him. Maul has no such luck, no such compatriot, and he keels over sideways.

There’s no breach on the hull of the cargo hold, at least, as far as Obi-Wan can make out. It sounded like a small laser cannon, the blast, but though it definitely hit—and who knew the impact in a landed ship would feel like this—it wasn’t strong enough to penetrate, or the ship’s defenses haven’t yet given out. That will probably change with a few more blasts, if whoever attacked them keeps up their assault. They’ve got another problem.

Ventress strides over to the window next to the loading bay, obviously preferring survival over a continuation of the fight, and Obi-Wan follows her. He keeps his eyes locked on Maul, though, who winces when he pushes himself up with his hands—should have taken a second to decapitate him, missed chance—and looks just as disquieted as Obi-Wan feels. Not one of his plans, then.

There are people outside the window. A few of them are pulling charred bodies off Maul’s victim pile, some are inspecting Obi-Wan’s ship—still there, luckily, though far enough he’ll have to run for a few minutes to reach it—and most of them are hauling around a small fighter ship using massive ropes. They’re shouting something that’s inaudible through the thick transparisteel pane of the window, but looks incredibly angry, and then Obi-Wan’s hairs raise again. He and Ventress grab for the cross bar behind them, and—shake.

“Villagers,” Ventress hisses.

“Quite.” Obi-Wan raises his voice. Wherever Darth Maul and his delirious lackey are right now, they’ll be able to hear him. “They have come to avenge their families murdered by a broken, unbalanced monster.”

“And kill us, too.”

“Now, I’m sure that once I tell them I’m a Jedi sent in to bring their murderer to justice they’ll—”

“Duck.”

Obi-Wan glances out of the window again, and outside, the people must have noticed them: they gesticulate wildly towards the window, and their towed ship’s laser cannon is pointed right at—

His knees ache. They’ve hit the floor hard, because Ventress has pulled him down with impressive force, and another boom shakes the freighter.

“What about the word ‘duck’ do you not understand?” Ventress gets up again and inspects the window, which hasn’t—yet—shattered. “I’m disappointed, Kenobi. I thought I’d taught you how to obey my commands.”

“My ship is out there, but we won’t make it that far.”

Ventress sighs. “Well aware. Our only way out is the freighter, and…”

Obi-Wan follows the direction of her eyes. Maul has made his way back to his apprentice. Back where the cockpit is. He must have reached the same conclusion. He’s whispering something inaudible and trying to pull the other zabrak onto his feet. Even with his chicken legs compensating for their height difference, though, he’s not strong enough, not when Opress isn’t cooperating at all. They’re only tens of meters away from the salvation of the cockpit door, a distance the sickened Sith apparently cannot crawl anymore and is too heavy to be dragged.

“Help me, brother, help me,” the big Sith moans weakly. He’s attempting to push Maul’s hands away, completely ineffectively, lightsaber forgotten. “I don’t want—please don’t—Sister don’t—”

Ventress looks over at him, an unreadable expression on her face, before she says, “If they get into the cockpit before us, we have a problem. But they’re both exhausted. As long as they don’t manage to close the door, we can make it.”

As soon as Obi-Wan and Ventress approach, though, Darth Maul drops his feverish apprentice with little care—Savage’s head hits the wall with a clang, though he has little brain to even lose from traumatic brain injury—and strides a few meters forward, lightsaber ignited. He looks more focused now after the break in battle, even if still sweat-drenched and trembling, and the barrage of laser strikes that hits the freighter doesn’t keel him over the way the first attack did.

“You have decided to return and die, then,” Maul says.

Ventress sneers. “You barely managed to hold the two of us back.”

Another volley of shots. The villagers are firing more and more often, and however well-armored this freighter may be, it won’t hold out forever. Every attack could be their end. With dawning dread, Obi-Wan realizes they might not even have timeto fight a newly revitalized Maul for the cockpit. And that means…

“In their drive for righteous vengeance against you, the Raydonians will kill us all if we stay here. And soon. You cannot get into the cockpit without giving us an opportunity to attack; we cannot defeat you fast enough. I therefore propose a temporary truce for our mutual survival.” The words are bile on his tongue, proposing a deal with a mass murderer to help him escape his victims, but needs must. Obi-Wan is a General of the GAR, and more battlefields than this one require his guidance. Maul is but a single washed-up revenant of a Sith, and he’ll find death sooner or later.

He takes a step towards the cockpit. Savage Opress shudders.

Ventress catches up to him, and Opress winces and curls into a ball.

“No,” Darth Maul says.

“If we do not take off soon, you’ll die!”

Opress, on the floor, uncurls and coughs. Flecks of something come out and hit the floor, red—blood. Instinctively, Obi-Wan moves closer.

The feverish Sith, mid-coughing fit, pushes himself up with trembling arms. Glowering, he forces out, “You won’t—” cough— “hurt him, now, I’ll—” cough, cough, cough, and more blood spraying towards Obi-Wan. There’s a visible sore on the zabrak’s shoulder from this vantage point, right where Ventress managed to injure him, massive and red and swollen with a necrotic black center. A clue towards his mysterious illness, if Maul’s irrational desire to let them all die before cooperating wasn’t far more pressing.

“My apprentice is right,” Maul says. He’s sweating profusely, probably feverish, and subtly bracing himself on an upended crate, but he’s probably no less lethal when cornered. “We do not trust you.”

“I give you my word as a Jedi Master.”

Maul’s eyes go crazed suddenly, wide and burning, as he howls, “Your word? Your word? I fought with honor. I could have booby-trapped that palace, and yet I did not. I fought honorably, two against one, and yet you would not even give me death, you—”

“I thought you’d died—”

“You gave me pain, pain, pain! For a decade I crawled in refuse and I fed on nothing but hatred for the Jedi who would not even grant his honorable enemy an honorable death!”

“I really thought you’d died,” Obi-Wan repeats weakly. “How was I to know you could survive a sai tok?”

“Here is what I think of your honor, Jedi.” Maul spits on the ground. Is it Obi-Wan’s imagination or is there blood speckled in…

Another blast hits the freighter. They’re running out of time.

“Ventress, then,” Obi-Wan offers. “She is of the dark side, just like you. I trust that’s more agreeable?”

She’s flushed red and sweating slightly, too—just what kind of contagious illness is this?—but she nods in Obi-Wan’s direction and stalks forward.

Again, Savage Opress starts whimpering as soon as he sees her face, and that’s Maul’s cue to block the path with his ignited lightsaber.

“What is it now?” Obi-Wan is the Negotiator, but even he can be forgiven for his lapse in tone now, as he tries to convince an obviously insane murderer to choose his own survival—and that of his apprentice, too. His apprentice… Perhaps… But no, Maul has never shown care for a living being beside himself, so appealing for the preservation of his fellow zabrak would be pointless. There must be a better argument. If only he knew… “What do you have against Ventress? She may have chosen to help me this time, but I promise you, we are at best friendly enemies.”

“My apprentice is afraid of her. I am more inclined to trust his judgment than yours,” Maul says, as if the shudders of a delusional feverish oaf of a Sith was enough reason to condemn them all to death by village mob. Without more information, this is a knot impossible to untangle.

“Ventress, do you—”

“Leave it.”

“—do you know why Savage Opress is scared?”

There is no answer. Asajj Ventress strides back towards the cargo bay.

Maul has retreated to his apprentice, perhaps having decided that Obi-Wan currently won’t instigate a fight. He’s squatting in front of him on his ludicrous chicken legs, a critical eye turned back over his shoulder on the other zabrak. “You’re burning up,” he says quietly. Obi-Wan is barely close enough still to hear him. “And as for the violent coughs… the armor is not helping.”

Savage swallows and shudders and presses his hands to his covered belly.

“You are of no use to me dead.”

No answer. The other Sith coughs out blood and then curls up again, the very picture of misery.

“I shall keep them away from you.”

“From you,” Savage rasps. “Keep them from… I am—” cough— “already lost. They must not hurt you.”

“If you die, you are of no use to me,” Maul repeats. His lip curls, though it’s impossible to tell whether from impatience or cruelty or worry. “You promised to protect me. How will you do that, apprentice, if you are dead?”

It seems to have worked. The word ‘protect’—a revelation Obi-Wan should perhaps have seen coming, but who would expect anyone to look at Darth Maul and see a creature worth protecting, a person in needof protection?—it rouses Opress into a weak kneeling position. He paws at the right shoulder pad of his armor, again and again, but…

“No-one told you how to take it off.” Maul’s voice is entirely flat, and Obi-Wan’s almost offended by his lack of shock. Who—how—why would someone wear an armor they could not remove? “Be still, then, apprentice.”

He raises his lightsaber and cuts, carefully—pausing twice just before a coughing fit wracks Savage’s frame—first through one shoulder pad and then the next, and the pauldron too. The undershirt beneath is dotted with burnt holes, and Darth Maul pulls it away from his apprentice’s body and cuts it as well. Opress is heavily scarred, shiny burn scars all over his shoulders and torso beneath the armor, and a massive overlay of lichtenberg figures down his back—but beside the lesion of the infected wound on his shoulder from Ventress’ attack which has engulfed his whole arm now, they’re all healed enough to be at least a few weeks old. Maul directs him to pull off his boots, too, but allows him to keep his skirt.

“This armor was useless against anything but blasters, anyway,” Maul says. “And it’s obvious that you are not used to moving with its weight. Whoever gave it to you did not act in the interest of—”

“Don’t let me interrupt, boys.” Ventress smirks as Maul’s head whips up. The Sith looks panicked and strangely guilty. “But the mob outside has found another ship with a bigger cannon. We should probably get going.”

Savage’s head clanks against the floor again, Maul’s uncharacteristic tenderness forgotten as soon as he remembers his audience. Lightsaber raised in a defensive position, Maul repeats, “No.”

“Ventress can take the ship, and I’ll stay here as collateral—she won’t decouple the cockpit.”

“No.”

“You really want to die here?”

Maul turns his face away. His arm is trembling.

You cannot imagine the depths I would go to to stay alive, he said when he attacked Obi-Wan. And the depths he’ll go to to kill Obi-Wan, apparently, including mulishly waiting for his own death, and the miserable demise of his own apprentice as well.

“Savage is sick,” Obi-Wan tries. The guarding, the careful removal of his armor—the relationship has to count for something. Even Darth Maul would not sink as low. “He needs medical care. By your stubborn refusal, you condemn him to death. Your apprentice will die here.”

Maul’s eyes are pools of fire and darkness. Vicious and dead. His voice is flat, empty, when he says, “There is no mercy for the weak. No mercy. There never was.”

Laser blasts shake the freighter again, and all Obi-Wan’s negotiation attempts have come to nothing. Trapped with a madman. He’ll just let all of them die, and for what? Stubborn Sith suspicion? If he will not yield, then… Desperately, he suggests, “Take the cockpit yourself, then. You do not trust either of us, but I am prepared to stake mine and her lives on your—on your honor. You insist you fight with honor. Prove it. We need to take off, or we all die.”

Down on the floor, Opress mumbles something that almost sounds like assent. He’s always looked vacuous and inexpressive to Obi-Wan, barely reacting to what should have been pain or mortal danger, but whether it’s the infection or the situation—he’s grabbed onto the ruined pauldron and tries to shield his bare torso. He’s swallowing, painfully, but he cannot force down his expression of sheer unadulterated dread.

There’s something more going on, something far beyond anything Obi-Wan could have suspected when he chose to come to Raydonia. This fear… Opress appears convinced that despite the laser cannons barraging their shelter, despite the mysterious onset of his brutal illness, it’s Obi-Wan and Ventress who pose a danger beyond his wildest nightmares. And Darth Maul…

“No,” Maul says. “I will not leave him for you to swallow his mind and carve up his body.”

It’s madness.

Mystifying. Hopeless. Madness.

Obi-Wan kicks one of the scattered meal packs on his way back to the cargo bay for another, probably fruitless, check on his own cruiser. Ventress stays behind, coughing softly. It’s no use escaping, though, just as Obi-Wan predicted—the sky is dark and the mob of villagers have probably mostly gone to sleep, but they’ve posted guards at the doors of the freighter and there’s no question they’ll spot Obi-Wan on his run, and if Ventress starts succumbing more deeply to the mysterious illness too… she won’t make it, and duty to the galaxy and the Republic would demand he leave anyway to rejoin his place at the GAR’s helm, but she came here to rescue him. He might have died at Maul’s hands—the sickness might not have broken out at all—if she hadn’t come. Whatever Maul thinks happened on Naboo, Obi-Wan knows honor. He won’t leave her behind.

He meanders back slowly, wracking his mind for any possible course of action, and suddenly his boot kicks up white dust. The crate! That innocuous crate that broke open, and unleashed its mysterious ills. He probably shouldn’t touch anything or even breathe here—but then he’s weathered this infection much better thus far than either of the zabraks or Ventress, he’s feeling as fine physically as he ever did after a drag-out ‘saberfight, and perhaps a clue as to the cause of the malady or a possible cure would give him leverage over Darth Maul. If it doesn’t, well… if he can’t find a way to the cockpit, he’ll get blown apart or dragged out by the angry mob he came here to avenge. He’ll die anyway.

There’s nothing at all helpful about the crate, though. It doesn’t even have a Caution! Do Not Break! marking or a biohazard or toxic warning. No, only an impressed and dirt-crusted set of numbers that may well have been there since the crate’s manufacture, and a mysterious stencil proclaiming the vendor one S.I. Rosenfeld. A custom-exemption stamp for Iridonia. The powder itself smells of nothing. It tastes of—well, whatever it tastes of, even in this desperation Obi-Wan refuses to put it in his mouth.

Hunt for clues abandoned, he instead carries back four hydrosacks.

A token of goodwill, at least. Obi-Wan himself is parched after the battle, and with how feverish Ventress and Darth Maul look, not to mention delirious Savage Opress… it’s worth an attempt, at the very least. But whereas Ventress takes her water gratefully, Maul only stares at the sacks that Obi-Wan kicks his way, even after Obi-Wan demonstratively drinks from his own. When Opress blindly reaches for one of the hydrosacks, one of Darth Maul’s chicken claws forces his hand back down.

Back to the standoff, then. Ventress periodically dis- and reappears with new sacks of water. Obi-Wan meditates. Darth Maul, meanwhile, paces in front of his sick partner, waiting for…

Whatever he is waiting for, it doesn’t come.

“You’re growing weaker, apprentice.” There’s no inflection in Maul’s voice now, nothing like the unhinged raving he directed at Obi-Wan earlier, and yet… “The dark side will give you the strength to survive. It is the only path.”

He reaches towards the other zabrak’s face, not the top of his head the way he braced himself up before but cupping one of his cheeks: a tenderness that hours before, Obi-Wan would not have thought possible.

Opress cringes away. He’s more lucid now, at least, but his breath is shallow and wheezing. “Brother,” he begs. “I would not… survive the lightning now. I can’t. I never could.”

A flinch answers him, tiny, almost invisible if Obi-Wan had not been watching the revenant nightmare for hours now, and then Maul whispers, “There is no lightning.”

“Master Dooku said—"

“Dooku was a liar and a fraud. He is a Jedi pretender, not a true Sith as we are, apprentice. In his refusal to credit you with interiority he overlooked the suffering he could have utilized, and so he had to cheat. The genuine test of the dark is that which already lies within, I have learnt.” Maul’s bright yellow eyes gleam over at Obi-Wan. He pauses. Considering, perhaps, what he should reveal before his audience.

Obi-Wan crosses his arms, extinguished lightsaber still at the ready. He won’t turn away. For now, though, he won’t interrupt either—something tells him to pause, though when he reaches to the force for guidance, all he feels is the cold and the unfathomable deep.

Opess moans in pain again.

Whatever misgivings Maul might have had, the sound wipes them away. “You’re in agony now, aren’t you?” he murmurs, an alien gleam in his rich genteel voice. “You feel the infection take hold of you more with every passing beat of your hearts. The fever, the ache. You can hardly breathe. It has colonized all of your vital systems. You are your body, and your body is pain. One careless moment, and he caught you, and now nothing exists but agony and dread and terrible thirst. Feel it. Sink into it. Luxuriate in your misery.”

Savage Opress, blood dribbling from his mouth onto his brother’s thumb, closes his fever-bright eyes.

“I have felt this, and yet I survived. You’re terrified, and in mourning for the life they stole from you. That he… that she—” and he looks up at Ventress—“that she stole. You hate her for the brother she took, for the mind she enslaved, for the involuntary shudder of your body whenever you recall her touch. That is enough, apprentice. That is enough for the dark. You know it is worse than any lightning that amateur could throw at you. Terror, pain, betrayal and loss and burning rage… Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The force shall free me. Repeat these words, as I did in the putrid chasm. They are a mantra gliding through your fingers while you feel.”

More hacking coughs, and in-between, the movement of lips. Obi-Wan should interrupt this—this venal induction into the dark side of the force, and yet… Opress fell already, and he is almost dead now.

The force pushes in through every orifice, every pore, pushes and pushes, a static pressure unlike anything he’s ever felt from the light. There is no sound but Maul’s voice and the bloody gasps for air, and even if a cannon hit the freighter right now, it would not penetrate air that is suddenly as thick as ocean floor water.

“You feel,” Maul encourages. “You feel. You will not die here in front of this woman who enslaved you, who forced you to murder your own brother. You will not. You hate her, don’t you? You are not allowed to hate her because she owns you, but you do. You hate her every look. Every unwanted touch. Every breath she takes, and every second she could try to kill the only brother you have left…”

In shock, Obi-Wan tries to meet Ventress’ eyes—he knew she was of the dark, but this cannot be truth—but she’s hardly better off than the yellow zabrak, fever-flushed and coughing on her own in the shadow of an unopened crate.

Maul is almost in a trance now, purring, as if there was no-one present but him and his apprentice and the sudden icy waves in the enclosed cargo hold, “She might impel you to kill me with your bare hands. You hate her.”

You cannot imagine the depths I would go to to stay alive, Maul ranted. Fueled by my singular hatred for you.

Are these the depths?

Is this how he managed to survive Naboo?

“You hate her, and you hate yourself—because you were weak enough to let it happen. You will not be weak now. You are Sith, apprentice. You are not weak. You will not submit to another nightsister. You will not kneel before another Dooku. Whatever it takes to gain power, you will do. However vile you need to become, you will. You do not belong to her. You do not belong to your sickness. You belong to the force, and it will devour your agony and your dread and your fever. It will devour you,” and Darth Maul bites the solid air with his rotten teeth.

“But you are strong. And you will wrest that which eats you into yourself and sink your teeth into its frozen innards. Feast on the force, apprentice. Feast on the force, and feed it pain and terror, and it will keep you alive until it grows fat on the misery of the entire galaxy.”

Opress lies still. Quiet. His bare torso is exposed to air so cold Obi-Wan expects to see hoarfrost cover every surface, but he does not cough, does not bleed. He does not fight against Maul’s hand, one bracing the back of his head and the other against his cheek still—

Against his cheek, and then digging in with pungent anger that bleeds into the force like the blood welling under Maul’s fingernails.

The sudden pressure spike threatens to implode Obi-Wan’s eyeballs. With his fingers massaging his closed lids and through eardrums thickly waterlogged, he hears Maul hiss, “Surely you did not expect to leave your path this quickly, apprentice? Mother Talzin sent you after me, but you followed me off Dathomir, and in that moment, you were mine. You left your brother behind and dead on the ground but you will not abandon me.”

A soft keen is all that answers his tirade at first, and then follows a river of anguished moans and scuffling on the ground and the pitter of—of blood, scratching, mangling. Obi-Wan startles and only when he trips over a clattering something in the pitch dark does he realize he just tried to protect Opress—protect Savage Opress!—from Darth Maul. The Sith is beyond mindless now, howling as he did when he blamed Obi-Wan for all his ills, all traces of the strange tenderness forgotten, and yet—Obi-Wan pauses. This is desperation. This is grief.

As cruel and insane as his words are; as blasphemous as the dark powers he is beseeching—this is not a monster.

This is the pure madness of attachment.

“You swore you would never betray me,” Maul wails in the deep and frozen dark of a trashed freight ship. “Did you trick me, brother? Was this your play? To pretend at kindness when I was weak so I would unlearn the most elementary of lessons? And I did.”

An answering gurgle that sounds like brother, no.

“You are leaving—”

Another barrage of wheezes—

“—but if you are still even capable of loyalty after you murdered your brother… I trusted you.” Maul’s eyes gleam in the pitch dark, not plain Sith yellow but—wet. They beckon, call, howl; they are the last thing that seems to exist. “I trusted you. You called yourself my brother. I trusted you. I learned to despise the world, and yet, somehow, I trusted…”

The wails lose all coherence after that. In the primordial calm of the freezing cargo hold, Obi-Wan holds his breath, for any sign of Savage’s life, for another gambit, another invocation of the dark force, for anything at all.

The pressure plummets as quickly as it appeared. A far too quick resurfacing, and it dizzies Obi-Wan, but Maul… Maul sinks down onto the floor softly, his chicken legs collapsing in a way even chicken legs shouldn’t, still holding onto Savage and clutching his brother’s head like a doll against his chest. The handle of the ‘saber clatters from the fist he presses against Savage’s back. The red Sith is not sweating anymore, but the ordeal seems to have exhausted him: he blinks his lighthouse eyes open, and open, and open, and then he doesn’t.

Obi-Wan drops to the floor. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for now. For the true horror of the Sith power that he just witnessed to reveal itself? The pressure and the gloom are all but gone now, and even the unnatural icy wind is beginning to dissipate. And yet, this cannot be the end. If this was the dark side of the force, it is far beyond anything he felt in his deepest meditations, and it shouldn’t just… go back to sleep.

Or maybe, he’s waiting for Maul to rise up and attack him? But the Sith looks more peaceful than he ever did, wrapped tight around his—brother, his brother, whom he somehow cares for and mourns.

Or—he’s waiting for Obi-Wan himself, who came to finally kill the Sith?

That is his task, and his duty to the galaxy and the Jedi and to Raydonia, to Qui-Gon, but after this moment… it feels profane, impossible, to kill Maul who is vulnerable now because he chose to beg for his brother’s life. The monster displayed a tenderness, a humanity that Obi-Wan would never have thought him capable of, and though it is deeply irrational, Obi-Wan walks past the spot where unmoving Sith cling to each other and into the cockpit.

He pilots the freighter to the nearest planet with an advanced toxicology medcenter.

He carries Asajj Ventress inside, paler than she has ever been and gone passive with bloodloss. Regardless of what he might have learned—and he is still not sure what to make of the fragments whispered by a lying Sith—she came to his rescue, and silently he prays that the force does not will her death. He is quarantined as well, despite his pleas—there are Sith, night-dead but Sith, up on the rooftop landing bay, and if they won’t call the Jedi Order to dispatch them they should know (and he pauses, but he just can’t) they should know the Sith are also grievously ill—and he gives the healers all the clues he picked up, the symptoms and the white powder and the name on the unprepossessing crate, and they give him nothing in return. No information on Ventress’ status (she will cross his path in a few months, and she will not answer his questions) and no audience with the Iridonian in ambassadorial robes frowning through the durasteel window of his isolation room, and no heads up on the squad of anti-bioterrorism police droids they sent to the freighter.

No warning that the ship has disappeared.

That, he finds out from Master Windu who retrieves him from his quarantine cell after two days of manic pacing.

Maul, at the very least, must have survived, and Obi-Wan could have killed him when he passed out cradling his brother. Maul has survived, and taken the ship and its murderous infective powder away with him. Maul has survived, and Obi-Wan will bear the weight of every person he kills hereafter. Will bear the pressure and the dread and the pleading in his ears.

.

Savage Opress is still by Darth Maul’s side when they attack Florrum and murders Master Adi Gallia, and Obi-Wan can’t catalogue the emotion he feels.

[fandom-sheep]

Fundy 21 APR 21

OSMP Dr*g Lab Part 1/1

The boy is doing disasters!

And now he’s got his new computer! Hooray!

Let’s see if the stream functions. I doubt it but it’ll be funny.

I’m typing this and attempting to fill out digital paper work for my college. Let’s see how this goes.

Hooray cat! We love Boots. Look at that pretty kitty laying on her pillow! I need to do more art for Boots. I’ve done some in the past.

Fundy gets to annoy people with his appearance. Everyone in chat shouting no. I think it’d be funny.

I don’t want to do my work. I just want to watch the chaotic fox boy.

We’ve hit problem two. Woo.

The people demand an Ad.

Oh we get facecam! Oh never mind he’s stuck again.

Ah yes. The temporary facecam.

My stream quality is going to drop just cause it can. I’m calling it.

Poor Fundy wants his mic not to cut out, but its become a thing and we all love it. “Twitch Pr”

He’s trying to break the mic for us. LOL.

Oh things sound Funky.

Echo, echo, echo

Oh no. My poor head.

He’s just laughing at us now.

He’s wondering how he didn’t lose all his viewers, we’re loyal, sadly.

Fox with his lovely base. It always looks so cool.

Ah we’ve been abandoned.

Bless your soulza

Yuck. Normal Minecraft. Yuck Spiders.

Dodge those skeleton shots! Do it!

Enslave Berry Foxes!

He has become a slow airplane.

Posture check. I am laying on my back I have no posture.

The boy eats the valued things.

I almost want to dual wield streams and watch Phil’s reactions to all this, but also not seeing the reactions is funny.

Puns. I love them. RUN FOX RUN!

Fundy Just causing problems on purpose. We love our chaos boy.

Ha ha. Karma.

Fox go YOINK.

Boots? Pet the cat. I wish we could see the cat. Boots is being banished downstairs.

Aww. He’s trying to be helpful. but the zombies just going to burn. Oh he realized before he burned the zombie. Good.

What is crow father doing? Just kelping? Is Phil just ignoring him?

Oh Phil just watching Fundy save the slab.

And giving him a reward. I am seeing parallels between this and what I do with troublesome campers.

I wonder how the crows have been reacting to Fundy being a problem on purpose?

Wealth goes in the mouth.

Sadness. Zombie friend despawned.

I love how Fundy can go from “I am tough” to “I am weak” to “I am tough” its always funny to me.

Something happened with sticky keys but I’m not sure because I was making a hot pocket.

Not crash is typically a goal of driving.

no reusing jokes. Boo someone throw a tomato.

“R” well alright then.

Don’t put wealth in the mouth. Got it.

Chat goes zoom? He’s oh noing.

“I don’t have a phone” as you text on your phone.

Wat. Some donos make negative amounts of sense.

I’d listen to him play that in the background while I work.

Look at the crowfather making his achievements.

Why would a fox have gold nuggets?

Foxes will look at Fundy and go “ah big fox. He is our leader now”

Ooo another video? A game show?

Don’t mind me. Just nearly drowning drinking water because a skeleton dropped on the small fox.

Humans designed bananas. Natural bananas are tiny and seedy. I know, Ive tried one. It was nasty.

Are star fruit rounded?

Foxes are dogs with a cat attitude. Who steal. The thief animals.

Digsirton. Dogson. Dogust. III. What an interesting name.

He was a fox. Because.

Fundy in the ring.

BRB gotta go cover plants so they don’t die during the cold snap.

Plants have been covered.

I know you guys attempted to surf the void and failed and that’s about it.

Now the Fox is chatting with the inchling.

Oops. Didn’t time it right.

He is a spring.

How does everyone have so many diamond things.

Nice. Enderman one shot.

Guilt free trident.

Woosh! With a trident the fox can fly!

And he didn’t thief it. Proud of him.

I love how close everyone stayed near spawn.

Poor lil fox.

Someone get the fox a trident!

Oh Phil’s view was probably great.

We’re looking scuffed again.

Phil witnessing the murder of 1 (one) fox.

Sneeg is a bullet.

Poor Fundy wants to become stacked, but he doesn’t hunt for anything.

Ah the bee. And there he goes.

Secret chest. Lovely.

Storage Unit Fox. Infinite mouth.

Sizzle Fox

Sneeg and Fundy work well together.

I’m betting on “no” for his next death being burning. Someone’s going to stab em or something.

Rats. Oh well. It was just 10 points

Quality entertainment.

Up he goes. He made it! Mitsakes are made (error intended)

Fundy one shotting everything is so great.

Aren’t ghast sounds cat sounds made weird? Or is that just something I heard once?

I’m voting no again. I’ll probably be wrong but again it’s 10 channel points.

No sizzle fox please. He will, but I’m saying no.

He one shot the ghast, but he did sizzle.

All this fox knows is sizzle. Ooo that give me an art idea.

Oh no he’s going to feel bad about the people who donated multiple times when it was paused.

Hi 5up.

Wow calling his “lover” short. How rude. Lol.

Du du du du

The tortles were released. Poor Niki.

I hate the mouth sound effect so much.

Training Arc with the pounce.

I hoard channel points like some people hoard money.

Oopsy.

Because he coldn’t help it? Poor boy.

I’m not involved in the prediction but these people have no hope in our boy.

Bee boy!

Oopsy. He is dead. The predictors were correct.

Bye bee boy.

Bee boy is back!

Ender boy is here! It’s a party now!

Fox just wants a skull.

Also yeah chat no spamming VC. Have good etiquette. We don’t do that’s here.

Prediction once again was right to not believe in the fox.

Drug corner looking nice. We can officially drugs now!

Oh no. He said chat. He does that when he’s ending.

Ah we are ending. That was productive.

Shaders! Gorgeous!

Oh it’s night. I never know if it’s night or not with the fox.

A pretty fox hole.

Phil over there Fox proofing his house.

Ah were attacking Phil. Nice.

The Fundy raid is here!

Tubbo! Really? Oh well. At least there is the mouth.

Anyway. I’m off. Good luck out there everyone!

I’m back to say that Fundy attempting to jump and get Tubbo was great.

Come on Fundy! Get him!

Ah. There goes the low heart boy.

Ah and the bullet appears.

I’m going to chill until Fundy gets Tubbo.

“C’mere” -Fundy

We’re used to watching our streamer get murdered Phil. This happens a lot.

Oooooooooo

He did it!

Go Fundy! Put the Wealth in the Mouth!

Oh no. Tubbo hired the bullet.

The bullet strikes again.

Oh he mouthed the zombie head.

Proud of our streamer.

No Fundy. Quit making problems.

Bees and foxes. Natural enemies.

Oh others can always hear the fox.

Anyway. That settles that. I’m heading off for real.

[raviotherabbit]

royal pain in the ass - chapter 2

Chapter 2: Era of Warriors Queen Zelda protects her city.

[first] - [previous] - [next] read it on ao3!

  △ ▲△

“I’m worried.”

Zelda looked up from her desk to see Time, standing in the doorway of her strategy room. His arms were crossed and his shoulders were tense, and he was notably avoiding her gaze. He looked straight down at the ground as he spoke to her.

“I see.” Zelda put her pen to the side. “You know, this reminds me of something.”

Time sighed. “Your majesty, I-”

Zelda interrupted him. “I’ve told you before. To you, little Link, it’s just Zelda.”

Finally, Time looked up at her, and he broke out into a smile that Zelda remembered fondly. Though he was no longer the child she knew, she could at least see a part of him stayed youthful.

“Sit,” she gestured to the chair across from her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

When Time sat, it was like he was letting go of more weight than his own. “I’m… concerned. About the heroes.”

Zelda nodded understandingly. “You’ve become a sort of de facto leader, haven’t you?”

“They’re getting antsy,” he explained, but he spoke slowly, choosing his words. “I think they’re wondering when this journey is going to wrap up.”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” she commented.

Time grimaced. “I know. But truthfully, I have no idea how close we are.”

“So you want advice to keep them happy until then?”

“Something like that,” Time admitted.

Zelda considered this for a moment, idly tapping her desk with her finger. “Well, you could try taking more breaks.”

“We stop to rest every night.”

“Not that,” she corrected him. “I mean, take a few days off, every now and then. Try to visit their families and friends, if you can.” She grinned a little wider. “I’ve also heard quite a bit about your ranch.”

Time chuckled at that. “What can I say? My wife has taken a liking to them.”

“Oh?” Zelda perked up. “Let me guess! You married that redheaded girl you were always talking about, didn’t you?”

Time abruptly stood, almost knocking his chair over. “I should probably check on the boys, thank you for your suggestion your majesty-” he bowed hurriedly, already backing up towards the door. “-I’ll consider it.” He then full on sprinted out the door.

How rude! Zelda didn’t think she teased him THAT badly when he was younger.

“Little Link, wait!” she called out, running after him. “Tell me all about her!”

  △ ▲△

When one of the hero’s portals opens up in the hall leading to her throne room, Queen Zelda Artemis Hyrule is relieved. Sure, a mysterious, swirling portal appearing out of thin air just feet in front of her is both jarring and on the nose, but she can’t find herself complaining. It’s been far too long since Link has been home, and though they’re well-equipped to handle the oncoming horde of monsters by themselves, a few extra heroic hands certainly wouldn’t hurt.

But when the figure who stumbles through the portal is not Link, nor any of the eight other heroes travelling with him, well… it’s fair to say Zelda’s a bit confused.

“Oh, goodness,” the girl mutters, bracing herself with her hands on her knees. “That really is disorientating…” She holds up a hand to the two of them as the portal blinks to a close. “Just a… just a second.”

Zelda glances to her side and meets the eyes of her general, who appears to be just as put off as she is.

“Okay.” The girl stands straight, and finally getting a good look at her face, Zelda’s struck with an intense feeling of familiarity. “Alright,” she brushes herself off, extending a hand out to the queen. “I’m Queen Zelda Sarya Hyrule. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh!” Zelda brightens. “That explains it!” She takes her counterpart’s hand, and the two firmly shake. “Queen Zelda Artemis Hyrule.”

“Artemis…” she muses to herself. “The Hero of Warriors must be yours, then?” She gasps, moving on without even waiting for an answer. “That means you fought in the War Across the Ages! How fascinating! You must tell me-” She moves to take Zelda’s arm, but pauses when she notices the sword in her hand. Her head turns to General Impa, who’s similarly armed with her giant sword.

The other Zelda tilts her head. “Wait, is something happening here?”

Impa laughs, boisterous and loud. “Yes, young queen. I’d say something is.”

The more Zelda thinks about it, though, the more it makes sense. This kid is her relative, in some way, so she’s gotta be tough. She places a hand on her shoulders and spins her around, walking her down the hallway with them. “Let me guess. You’re the Hero of the Wild’s Zelda?”

She nods, though she’s still nervously glancing at their swords. “Flora.”

“I figured as much. Flora,” Zelda smiles, smirking back at Impa. “How about this? If you help us with this monster horde, I’ll answer any questions you have.”

  △ ▲△

Flora’s not sure what she expected when she set off through a mysterious time travelling portal. Maybe a glimpse into the lifestyles of ancient times, or even an ancestor who welcomed her warmly and had interesting insights about Hyrule’s history. By the dragons, she’d even take a forest, Wild said they land in forests a lot.

But no, apparently she gets to meet her battle-crazy ancestor whose first reaction to seeing her is ‘Let’s take her out in the field!’

Now, she’s trying desperately to avoid looking Artemis in the eye. Of course, Artemis, for her part, pushes her through a pair of large double doors, and for a moment Flora thinks she’s back in the guards’ barracks. The walls are lined to the ceiling with everything from swords to clubs, delicately and almost blindingly polished. The gleam of a rather terrifying battleaxe catches her eye, and she sweats at the sight of it.

“You need a sword, definitely,” Artemis proclaims, pulling a sword from its display. It’s modest, sure, but its intricate design reminds Flora of the Royal Broadswords Wild enjoys in their own time.

“Uh, Queen Artemis-” Flora tries.

She dismisses her protests with a wave of her hand, depositing the sword with Flora. “Please, just Artemis.”

“Okay.” Flora nervously glances down at the sword. “Artemis-”

With a gasp, Artemis rushes over to the shields, pulling Flora behind her. She picks up a kite-shaped shield, with golden detailing. “This is the type I used for my first battle!” she explains, eagerly shoving it into Flora’s hands. “Aw,” she coos. “You look just like I did.”

Flora’s face turns bright red and a shame burns its way into her chest. “Artemis, I… I can’t.”

“Of course you can!” Artemis insists. “Don’t worry about breaking them, I can always commission more.”

Wow, if that isn’t a thought so foreign to Flora. Her Hyrule’s currently running on weaponry made at least one hundred years ago, so needless to say, breaking one is a bit of a concern.

“No,” Flora tries again, “I mean, I physically can’t use these. I don’t know how.” She awkwardly holds the sword and shield in front of herself, accentuating her point.

Artemis’s face falls, her brimming happiness gone in a second. “Ah.”

And then, just like that, she’s back to how she was before. Gingerly, she takes the sword from Flora’s hand. “Then… don't worry about that,” Artemis says. “What about your powers?”

Flora winces. “They’re… gone.”

Once, she told Link that she was okay with that, and truthfully, Flora still felt like she was. But with Artemis, her ancestor, looking down at her, it's suddenly the worst failure of her life since the Calamity.

“Gone?” Artemis asks.

“Well, it’s more like they faded,” Flora amends. “I used them extensively against Ganon, but they haven’t been the same since then.”

“I see…” Artemis’s brow furrows. She turns away from Zelda, eyes scanning over the wide array of weapons, as if any of them can offer her a solution.

Some part of Flora is still a child, the same child who searched desperately for ways to meet her father’s hefty expectations. The child with a great sense of duty she could never fulfill, and so looked for alternatives. That child must still be with her, because Flora pulls out her Sheikah Slate and holds it out to Artemis.

“What about this?” she asks, hope seeping in at the edge of her voice. “It can summon bombs, and- and it freezes enemies, as well.” She takes a sharp breath. “I won’t be useless.”

Artemis inspects the slate for a moment, leaning down to Flora’s level to get a better view of it. When she reaches out to poke the Sheikah Eye, Flora has to resist yanking the slate away from her.

She hums to herself. “What a strange relic. And you’re certain it will be enough for you?”

“Yes,” Flora asserts, but she clutches onto the Sheikah Slate just the slightest bit harder.

Artemis claps her hands together, and her bright and beaming smile returns. “Well then, Queen Zelda-” her tone is almost joking. “-keep the shield. I clear you for active duty.”

Somehow, despite herself, Flora laughs, a light and friendly giggle. “Thank you, Queen Zelda.”

  △ ▲△

Artemis leads the defense, with all the grace and beauty a queen should have. With her rapier outstretched, she directs her troops across the field. The soldiers charge, and there’s the distinct sound of metal colliding as they meet the Bokoblin attackers.

For her part, Artemis defends herself well. With a flourish, she spins and slices through several Bokoblins with a golden light. Her movements are precise and elegant.

Flora, meanwhile, wants to run away from this all as fast as possible. All of Hyrule Field is chaos, the clamoring of weapons and the frantic shouting. A Bokoblin locks in on her, and Flora gets an up-close and personal showing of its ravenous eyes and monstrous breath as it grabs onto her wrist.

Fight or flight kicks in, and in Flora’s case, she chooses flight. She wrenches her arm away from the Bokoblin, just barely dodging a swing from its club. With a scream, she flees, jumping over a short, stone wall and sequestering herself behind it.

Everything about this, the fighting and the swords, it’s all so familiar. It’s almost like-

“Link, save yourself! Go!”

Flora squeezes her eyes shut, forcing that memory from her head.

With all the force she can muster, Flora throws one of the circular bombs over the wall, outstretching her Sheikah Slate and detonating it just as it reaches the Bokoblin. It goes flying, but as it does so, a giant, broad Moblin takes their place. At least, she thinks it’s a Moblin. It’s much larger than any of the ones in her time, but they do appear similar to the Bokoblins here. The ground shakes under the weight of its feet, and it carries a huge metal shield.

Oh fuck.

On pure instinct, Flora activates the Magnesis rune, latching onto the Moblin’s shield and lifting it as high as she can. The brute of a Moblin keeps its hold on its shield, though, so Flora starts shaking her Slate up and down frantically.

“Let go let go let go-!”

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry about me!”

Bargaining.

Flora violently slams the Slate towards the ground, which finally loosens the Moblin’s grip. But she doesn’t stop, bringing the shield back down and smashing it onto the Moblin, again and again. And then, only when the Moblin finally stops moving, does she sigh in relief.

Naydra’s ice, that was terrifying.

“Ah!”

“Run!”

Artemis!

Flora’s head snaps towards the sound of her ancestor’s shout. The troops have moved ahead, likely at their queen’s orders, but now Hylia’s two daughters are left on their own, and the sight freezes her to the core.

A dark figure stands over Artemis. He’s small, the size of a child. While it’s hard for her to pick out many details through the darkness, she can see the outline of masks strapped to his head and waist, as well as a long hat. Artemis’s rapier is laying a few feet away, useless, but the shadow’s sword is huge, pointed right at Artemis’s throat.

“All of you are like this,” the figure says to her, a mocking edge to his tone. “All of you are the same.”

“Stop this,” Artemis commands breathlessly.

The figure chuckles, and the shadows that compose his body shift. He grows taller, but not by much. The masks disappear, and the sword gains an hourglass symbol on its hilt.

“You’re one of the worst of them all, you know,” he chides. “You took more than you needed. You couldn’t save the day by yourself.”

With his laugh turning sinister, the shadow changes shape one last time, growing to around Artemis’s height. And this form is one Flora recognizes.

The shadow takes on the appearance of the Hero of Warriors.

“One hero wasn’t enough for you,” the shadow cackles. “It was never enough!”

“That’s not what happened!” Artemis strikes back, only to have the sword jutted closer to her throat.

The shadow wipes a tear from his eye, before focusing back on Artemis. “Farewell, your grace.” He raises his sword, prepared to strike, when-

“No!”

“No!”

Before she realizes what she’s done, Flora uses Stasis on the figure. The yellow chains appear, and the figure is stopped in its tracks.

For a second, Artemis sits there, bewildered.

Flora cups her mouth and shouts, “Attack it now! Before the rune wears off!”

Her words snap Artemis from her confusion, and the queen is up in an instant. She raises her hands above her head as they begin to glow, and suddenly, a bow and arrow appears in her hands. Taking aim at the shadow, Artemis glowers at him before releasing the Light Arrow right into his chest.

The dark figure is sent flying back, and Flora cheers, jumping and shaking her arms in excitement. She runs up to Artemis practically beaming.

“Oh, you did it!” she exclaims, latching onto her ancestor’s arm. “I’m so happy that worked! You were amazing!”

“You think so?” Artemis dusts herself off with her free arm, lightly chuckling. “It was your quick thinking that saved me.”

Flora awkwardly rubs at the back of her neck. “Really, that was nothing-”

“Well, well, well…”

The two queens are interrupted by the dark figure, taking on the form of swirling shadows, picking himself back up. Artemis raises a hand in front of Flora defensively.

“I thought you might be here, young queen,” he remarks. “Though I admit, your little stunt took me by surprise.”

As his form begins to solidify once again, Flora’s eyes go wide and she clutches onto Artemis’s arm. She knows that battered tunic, that messy hair…

“You should know better than to go charging blindly into danger, after all.”

“No, no… Link! Get up!”

It’s Wild.

“They’re much better off without the two of you.” The shadow glares at them, his eyes, shaped just like Wild’s, pure red with hatred. When he glances back towards the rest of the battle, which has died down, his face drops even further. With a disgruntled sigh, he bows to the queens.

“This isn’t over, your majesties.”

The shadow sinks into the ground, and then, right before their eyes, he’s gone. But for a moment, the two queens don’t move. They stare at the spot he disappeared, frozen as their adrenaline fades away.

Finally, Flora manages to break out of her terror, turning towards Artemis. “Er, what was that?”

Artemis sighs, shoulders drooping as she allows herself to relax. She places her heads in her hand and, silently, walks back towards the castle, leaving Flora behind.

“You’re going to be just fine.”

Oh, Link. Where are you?

  △ ▲△

Artemis packs her bag. Anything she looks at that could be useful, she throws it into her satchel. Rupees, clothes, shoes, swords. After a brief consideration, she takes off her crown, leaving it on her bed. She figures that if she shows up to someone else’s palace wearing a crown, she may cause an incident.

When she finally figures she’s got everything she needs, Artemis throws the satchel over her shoulder and briskly leaves her room. She doesn’t spare it another glance.

She finds Flora and Impa together in the throne room, Flora sitting on the red carpeted steps below her throne with her chin in her hands. Impa’s by her side, awkwardly attempting to figure out emotional honesty.

“Did I do something wrong?” Flora asks Impa. “She seemed very upset when she left.”

“Well,” Impa tries, but emotions aren’t really her strong suit. “It was a rough situation.”

“Was there something I could have done better, though?” Flora gestures. “I just wish I knew how these things worked.”

Impa scoffs. “You and me both.”

“Flora,” Artemis calls out to her fellow queen, announcing her presence to the two.

“Your majesty,” General Impa stands to attention immediately. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Impa,” Artemis states, before looking down at her descendant, moping on the stairs. “I’m coming with you.”

Flora perks up. “Really?” she asks, standing with the other two.

Artemis nods. “You heard that thing. It’s done something to our heroes. You wouldn’t have been brought here if Hylia didn’t intend for us to save them.”

Impa frowns. “Queen Zelda, what about the kingdom?”

“I’ve already thought of that, Impa,” Zelda tells her. “I’m leaving you in charge.”

“Wh- what? Me?!” Impa sputters out. “Your majesty, you can’t be-”

But Artemis holds up a hand, silencing her general. “You’re the only one who knows this kingdom as well as I do. There’s no one I’d trust with this role more than you.”

Impa’s breath catches on her throat and her eyes go wide. Perhaps realizes there’s no arguing her way out of this, she bows to the queen. “It’s an honor, your majesty.”

Just as she says so, a portal tears through reality, a thrum inviting the queens to step through. Artemis gives one last nod to Impa, before turning to Flora.

“Are you ready, Queen Zelda?” she asks, a smile stretched wide across her face.

“Of course, Queen Zelda,” Flora responds, raising a fist in triumph. “Our Links are counting on us!”

And so, side by side, two Hylian rulers step into the unknown.

[writtenbyrain]

I’m Proud of You

Read it on AO3 Summary: For months now Marinette and Luka have danced around each other, their feelings only growing stronger and more apparent. So when Ladybug calls upon Viperion to return to the field against an unusually powerful akuma, how will Luka react when a battle gone awry exposes Ladybug’s identity and threatens her life? Notes: Written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge! Wildcard Prompt (courtesy of @mlweeklyprompts): “You see, this is the part where you tell me you’re proud of me.” Thank you so much @nerdypanda3126 and @quickspinner for being wonderful betas!

“I’m so proud of you, Marinette!” Luka turned to beam at the girl who stood over his desk. Keeping his eyes on her, he began to gently fold the newest Kitty Section jackets she had come over to present him with. “You’ve done such a wonderful job on the whole band’s new costumes. I know they’re going to love your designs.”

Marinette continued to smile fervently in spite of her blush — another small detail Luka was learning to cherish during his fleeting but meaningful afternoons with her.

“You’re always telling me you’re proud of me,” she chuckled. “At this point, I could bake you the world’s worst batch of macarons and you’d still find something to be proud of.”

“Well that’s because you’re deserving of every bit of praise,” he countered, enjoying the way her blush deepened as he edged closer. “You’re a wonderful girl, Marinette. The kind whose heartsong always closes on the most hopeful of cadences.”

Marinette giggled, running her hand distractedly over the strings of his nearby guitar. She often did that when she was nervous, and Luka was learning to love the vibration of open chords a little more with each shy stroke of her fingers.

“Do you really think that, Luka?”

“Of course. You know I do.”

For months now they had danced around each other — Marinette finding exceedingly obscure design flaws and edits to merit her next visitation, and Luka taking every possible opportunity to remind her that he was proud of all she had to offer.

That he was proud of all of her.

Now, his fingers itched to brush her bangs away so he had an excuse to feel the warmth of her skin. Her eyes were bashfully turned down toward the planks of his room on the Liberty, leaving her hair to hang in front of her brow in just the perfect angle for the occasion.

But before Luka could move, Marinette’s hand came up to pick at the hem of her blouse, her teeth momentarily pressing into her lower lip as her eyes flicked up. She turned to face him fully, setting her shoulders back and tipping her face up to meet his gaze head-on.

She was close — closer than he had initially realized. But when Marinette looked up, she didn’t look bothered or uncomfortable by their proximity. She only held her breath, leaning into the small space compressed between their two bodies.

It felt like an invitation of sorts, if not a challenge.

Luka bent his head down as Marinette’s lips parted in anticipation, the moment as fragile as glass.

Perhaps she was waiting only for—

The dissident ringing of Marinette’s phone broke the moment, causing her to pull back suddenly. A startled silence rested between the two of them, their gazes still wide and locked until Marinette looked back down.

“I should… probably get that,” she mumbled self-consciously before crossing over to where her purse sat.

“Right.” Luka was disappointed but knew it was best not to show as much. After all, he wanted to move at Marinette’s pace; to keep her comfortable and with the opportunity to say “no” if she so chose.

And so, without knowing where, exactly, her boundaries were right now, he decided it would be more respectful to distract his hands with the strings of his guitar.

Meanwhile, the phone notification appeared to have elicited an immediate frown from Marinette. Luka didn’t miss the way her brows furrowed in familiar concern and hesitation.

“Anyway, didn’t you tell me you had a new client to meet this evening about a commission?” Luka leaned back against the wall in an effort to belie his nervousness. His hands flew deftly over strings and frets as he fought the urge to ask her to stay, knowing she was likely about to offer some manner of strange excuse for her departure. “I wouldn’t want to make you late for your meeting.”

“Oh, r-right!” Marinette turned back stiffly with a forced smile. “My, uh, meeting! Of course. I better get going. Thank you so much for keeping an eye on the clock!”

She began to hastily assemble the rest of the Kitty Section garments into their respective travel bags, her eyes straying back to the screen of her phone before resting on Luka in silent apology.

He merely pressed his lips into a subtle smile, inclining his head forward to let his hair fall into his face.

“I’m always happy to help in any way I can, Marinette. You know how proud of you I am.”

________

Following Marinette’s hasty exit, Luka stretched himself out across the foot of his bed, leaning against the wall with one knee bent for support. Guitar still in hand, he began to distractedly pick out the melody of the heartsong he had begun writing for her nearly a year ago.

Meno mosso , he thought. She moves at her own tempo. And I’d be happy to match her rhythm.

In a conscious effort to slow his own heart rate following their final exchange, Luka’s fingers began to pick slower, the pace of the notes gradually loosening and broadening with his breath.

We have all the time we need.

________

“There’s no time,” Ladybug huffed as she swung through the porthole and into Luka’s room not twenty minutes later. “I can’t reach Chat Noir, and I can’t stop this akuma alone. I need help.”

She recalled her yo-yo, stepping into the center of the room with an urgency that jolted Luka from his reverie, causing him to jerk his head back up hard enough that it hit the wall with a heavy thump .

“Wait, what’s going on?” Luka scrambled up from his current seated position on his bed, attempting to rest his instrument as gingerly as possible on its nearby stand. One hand was still rubbing at the back of his head. “What are we up against?”

Ladybug was breathing hard — whatever happened must be especially terrible for her to not only seek out a partner that wasn’t Chat, but to rush all the way to the Liberty for help in lieu of saving the citizens that were in the most direct line of fire.

She had fabric wrapped around her shoulder in an effort to staunch the bleeding of what appeared to be a deep slice.

Since when did either Ladybug or Chat Noir actually bleed through their suits?

“Like I said, there’s no time to explain.” She grabbed Luka’s hand, turning it over and pressing a box firmly into his palm. “Luka Couffaine, as you know, this is the Miraculous of the Snake. Can I trust you to once again wield Sass and the power of time for the greater good?”

________

Viperion staggered onto the next rooftop, narrowly missing the shards of glass being shot rapid-fire by Hawkmoth’s latest akuma victim. Not only had this one managed to keep him in on the defensive for the last fifteen minutes’ worth of battle (which was exhausting in and of itself), but the worst part was that this one was designed to penetrate the otherwise indestructible suits donned by miraculous wielders.

“Viperion, to your left!”

He flinched out of the way more than he dodged, but at least he managed to avoid taking any shards straight to the face. Ladybug, meanwhile, was bobbing and weaving, attempting to simultaneously evade the barrage while pushing close enough to get into more of an offensive position against their latest adversary.

And as far as Viperion could tell, it wasn’t working. They needed a new plan.

He hastily ducked behind the chimney of the rooftop he had landed on, fingers brushing over the strings of his lyre in thought. Once again, the familiar vibrations of an instrument helped to cool his nerves, serving as the bridge point between his thoughts and emotions in the midst of high tension.

He distractedly fingered a few more notes in quick chromatic succession, the music serving to somewhat dampen the audible sounds of Ladybug struggling several feet beyond. If only these vibrations could…

Wait, vibrations.

“That’s it!” Viperion swung back around to expose himself. “Ladybug! We need stronger vibrations!”

Ladybug dodged the next onset of glass, using her yo-yo as a shield before swinging herself haphazardly back in his direction. As she flew by, she wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling them both out of the fray and into an alley for a moment of respite.

“You have a plan?” she demanded through uneven breaths. Small nicks and cuts littered one cheek, and a line of jagged fabric was torn all the way up the opposite arm.

“I do,” Viperion confirmed. “If we can find the frequency at which the akuma’s glass vibrates, we can shatter his attacks before they reach us.”

Ladybug’s eyes lit up. “Like singing at the right pitch to shatter a wine glass.”

“Exactly.”

“We may even be able to use that frequency to destroy whatever item is hiding the akuma,” she thought aloud. “The only questions, then, are how we make the vibrations and how we find out where the akuma is hiding.”

Viperion began to thumb his lyre in contemplation again, momentarily closing his eyes before offering whatever brief answers he could in their limited time.

“Well, if we manage to find the frequency, the akuma would likely be in whatever item he tries to protect from us. He’ll become vulnerable, so he might give himself away if we look closely enough,” he explained. “As for creating the vibration… if we stretched your yo-yo out long enough, we could probably tune it like a single string. We would just need to amplify it."

Ladybug beamed, a modicum of hope restored to her facial expression.

“Luka, you’re—I mean, Viperion , you’re a genius!” she exclaimed. “And luckily, it just got dark for the evening. If we play this right, the akuma may not even see where I lay out the yo-yo string. I just need you to distract him long enough for me to tune it, and we can take it from there.”

Viperion placed a hand on her uninjured shoulder. “I’m always happy to help in any way I can.”

She nodded back with a determined smile before raising her eyes to scan the sliver of sky above the alley.

“You go out first and try to get his attention, then I’ll head out in the opposite direction toward the Eiffel Tower. There’s supposed to be a big concert there tomorrow and they’ve already begun to lay out equipment — I’ll bet I can find something to use as an amplifier.”

Viperion nodded, raising his left wrist to ready his power.

“Seems like the perfect time to prepare my Second Chance.”

They nodded in silent agreement, both bracing themselves for the next onslaught as Viperion launched back out onto the rooftops.

“Second Chance!” He flicked the Miraculous resting upon his wrist before turning back toward the frenzied akuma, making an attempt to vie for his attention.

“Hey! Over here!” Viperion waved his arms in frantic motions before strumming his lyre as loudly as possible. It didn’t take long for the akuma’s eyes to zero in on his form. “Come over here and face me!”

With a snarl, the villain lurched forward to pursue his would-be prey — but not before a flash of red and black unwittingly detracted from Viperion’s efforts.

No, no, it’s too soon. I need to keep his attention for this to work.

Much to his horror, the akuma had already whipped back around, readying its next attack.

“Ladybug, watch out!”

Too late.

Her back was turned, her yo-yo already wrapped around a nearby streetlamp so as to support her weight as she swung away. And as she was startled into turning back around midair, the glass shards found their target, burying themselves deep throughout her torso.

She lost hold, falling inelegantly. Her hand was still outstretched, reaching toward the yo-yo that now hung limply from the streetlamp as her mouth opened in a gasp of pain.

“No!” Viperion dropped his lyre and shot forward.

Tucking and rolling onto the pavement, he caught her mere seconds before she hit the unforgiving pavement. He hoisted her more securely into his arms ducked into another alleyway, kneeling to shield her body with his own.

Use your second chance, he thought haplessly. You still have two minutes left. You can still fix this.

But as much as logic beseeched him to reset this moment, to return to a mere few moments prior, his horror kept him rooted in the here and now; in the impossible future wherein he, Luka Couffaine, had failed Ladybug.

Chat Noir should have been here, not me. Chat Noir wouldn’t have failed.

“Ladybug?” He gently propped her head up with one hand. “Ladybug, please. Please, can you hear me?”

As she turned and looked up at him in the dim light, the splotches of blood appeared dark enough that they could have blended into her costume, dotting her chest and abdomen in all the wrong places. The new spots were too uneven, growing too fast.

But that was nothing compared to the bloodied and broken tragedy that awaited him when she dropped her transformation.

“Marinette?” Luka’s words were cut off by a choke. His chest heaved, his panic overtaking him as he cradled the heroine — as he cradled Marinette — in his arms. Her placid gaze, deathly calm, stood in stark contrast to that of Luka’s. “I thought you might be… but, but I—”

One minute, three seconds left.

She reached a shaky hand up to his cheek. It was still warm despite the wintry air that pressed in and continued leeching the heat from her weakened body.

All Luka could do was bite back the sobs that threatened to wrack his ribs, deciding instead to place his free hand on top of hers. He turned his head to plant a gentle kiss on her palm.

“You see, this is the part where you tell me you’re proud of me,” Marinette whispered. “Just like you always do.”

Forty-six seconds left.

“I love you, Luka.”

I can’t let it end like this.

“I-I love you too, Marinette.” Luka’s voice broke. “And I’m proud of you. So completely and utterly proud of the melody you’ve brought to Paris — to this world .”

Words, words, why did his words always seem to fail him?

Thirty-one seconds left.

“Truly, Marinette, your heartsong—”

Please, I need more time. More time.

“—How did I not realize sooner?” he lamented. “Your heartsong isn’t just your shared kindness, or your sweet sincerity. But it’s your drive for justice. Your passion for others.”

Marinette smiled softly, her eyes beginning to flutter shut.

“No, no, listen to me, Marinette. Please. You’re the kind whose heartsong always closes on the most hopeful of cadences . And I am so proud of you .”

Eighteen seconds left.

Slowly, as though brushing her fingers lazily over Luka’s guitar one last time, Marinette’s hand fell from his cheek. Her fingertips were icy.

Luka wrapped his arms tighter in as much an effort to hold her closer as it was to keep himself from crying out in distress. The akuma was still nearby.

Ten seconds left.

He couldn’t break.

Not here. Not like this.

Not yet.

Luka bent forward, keeping his right hand propped beneath her head as his left fingers brushed the bangs from her cool and bloodied face. Tenderly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried,” he whispered. “Which is why I refuse to let you die without a second chance.”

He set her down as gently as possible and slid his right thumb over the bracelet of his left wrist.