#its still hard sometimes. having something which was your lifes purpose suddenly become such a struggle. but im working through it

[charrfie]

I've been coming to peace with art being difficult for me lately.

[rxqueenxgirl]

HOW IS YOUR LIFE GOING TO BE IN 10 YEARS ? ♡

if you want a reading more in depth you can massage me on private or you can know more about my paid readings here!

take a deep breath and pick a pile!

pile 1:

in 10 years you'll accomplish a lot of knowledge. Your life will be stable and you'll know how to properly balance it. Your obstacle will be your financial freedom and the first steps to become independent. In this process you'll overcome some roots from relashionships in your life, what once was so traditional suddenly doesn't feel right to the new person you're becoming, it doesn't includes a big harm, just a brutal change in the way you saw them.

In your path, the positivity comes from realization. You worked and studied a lot, went through hard phases and all you have are reasons to be proud of yourself. Nonetheless, the people you'll meet are the source of negativity. Your workfield or friend circle makes a significant part of your life, you'll be trapped for the fact you all work for something bigger than you. They will demand too much, they will feel jealous, they will use their time on bad energies. Be careful.

pile 2:

In 10 years your life will be chaotic, like a battlefield with angels and demons. Something (maybe a big tragedy) will change the way you see the world around you, you'll see all the things that had been hidden from you. At first, you'll hit your lowest point, but you'll soon realize it was necessary to open your eyes and you will have a new purpose. You become a little too ambitious due to your rebellion, that can have a moral or religious meaning behind. You feel free, but don't set limits on danger and start to think that everything that was prohibited before is a blessing when it can actually be dangerous.

But you are finally free. You'll look back and have many regrets, but never of what you became. Maybe you'd be a little less inconsequential if you had the chance, but you'll see it was so liberating at the time you wouldn't think like that.

pile 3:

In 10 years your life will be very dynamic, full of extreme choices, some might take you to riches and fun stories, but with danger in the corner. Gladly, you'll overcome the excess and materialism brought by the start of that adventure. You'll dive deeper into a relationship, you love your romantic interest and submit yourself for them, this is where the bad things in your life will come from. You'll feel more mature and more flourished, but all along you're just in a tiring position you can't get out of for the sake of "something bigger", which is just something to keep you impotent.

There is prosperity on your way, but no freedom. You reap the fruits of happiness, but not the quantity you really deserve.

pile 4:

in 10 years you'll find a new love, something or someone that overflows your feelings. At first, there's so much excitement you just turn blind to everything around you, but you'll have to learn how to put that emotion in its place so you can grow better and look at things objectively. You'll turn insecure, full of jealousy, resentment and anger, but at the same time you're still aware of the world's wonders waiting for you.

You sacrificed many things to mature at once, and you might regret it sometimes. Life had to open your eyes in the worst ways, it brings you a new agony that you weren't aware you could even feel. You'll grow up out of the pain of a broken heart.

[polyhexian]

Okay. Finished Bambi. The movie really only encompasses a little more than half the book. It ends showing Bambi running off with faline into adulthood, happy. The book however continues and shows Bambi growing older and wiser in the ways of the forest and ultimately becoming the new prince of the forest. He is alone all the time, has no companions, has lost interest in faline and not seen her in some time. The book ends with him encountering some frightened fawns calling for their mothers and chastising them for not being able to take care of themselves. Ultimately this is a book written in 1929 about the life cycle of a wild prey animal that is like, directly pushing the narrative that hunting is bad and hunters are evil.

Which... I don't really agree with. There are no predators in this book, not of deer. The only thing the deer have to worry about is humans. They're not afraid of wolves or lions or any other large carnivores. Which means... Yeah, letting them run unchecked probably isn't actually great for the environment. Especially when we see how devastating winter already is. Now, maybe it's just that the meat industry was not as evil yet in 1929 as it is today? But I am of the distinct opinion that meat from a wild deer is more ethically sourced than meat from a factory farm cow. The conditions those animals are put through are so beyond inhumane it's indescribable. That deer had a life, a natural life, and fell victim to a predator. Its life was better than that cows ever was. Now, sport hunting is different- sort of, plenty of people who sport hunt do still use all the meat and pelts they harvest, and what harm is there in enjoying the work you are already doing?

I don't think anyone will disagree with me that killing animals for fun with no purpose isn't really... Good. If you're shooting deer and just taking antlers and letting them rot and it's not got some other purpose like culling the herd or preventing the spread of disease... Don't do that? Not that animals don't sometimes kill for fun but. We don't need to cause more suffering in the world than we have to.

It's hard for me to really get into the mindset of what the author might have really been trying to convey with this. I don't know what it's like to live in Germany in 1929 so I can't really imagine what kind of world he was living in, the world of humans and his morals or the world of ethical hunting and animal welfare. It is certainly presented that the best way to survive, to be proud and noble and regal, is to have no relations with anyone, to speak to no one, to have no friends or curiosity, to trust nothing and no one and to rely only upon oneself. Also to just get up and leave your wife one day and never go back.

On one hand, on a completely literal level, this is probably a very accurate depiction of a deers life cycle and how a deer survives long enough to become an elder. Only the lonely survive. On a message level I'm really not sure what it's trying to tell me. It does feel a bit like it's making a broader statement than just a brutal accurate depiction of wild animal life. It also hit me with a steel chair out of left field by dropping what I think the thesis statement of the book may be and it's that god is to us as we are to all other animals. Arbiter of life and death. Incomprehensible. Beyond understanding. Something greater than man is out there.

That shit was wild I wasn't expecting this to suddenly reveal Oh Fuck It's About God. So like. It's saying something. It's definitely saying something. I'm really not sure I have the context to fully understand what and I'm not sure I'd agree with it even if I did.

[reuinx]

Red Lights (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: You've been having a tough time lately. It's Yelena's goal to brighten up your day. The day takes the form of an afternoon spent in Yelena's car teasing, laughing, and singing. It looked like the day couldn't possibly get any better until tragedy struck.

Prompt by Anon ask: “Kissing your lover’s forehead as they’re dying in your arms but reader is dying please and thank you “​

Word Count: 2,047

Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of blood (Gore kept extremely minimal), tragic accident resulting in death.

Translations:  Malishka (Baby),  Dorogoy (Love)

Masterlist

Have you ever had those days when nothing goes right? You miss the bus, you say the wrong thing, you lose your temper, and you spend the rest of the day wondering what you could have done differently? It was one of those days. Using this logic, you are faced with a dilemma - you don't want to stay at home, but you don't want to stay alone either. You tentatively texted Yelena to see if she was free; she was. Summer heat caressed your exposed arms, leaving you with sun-kissed skin. 

Despite the heat of the summer, you kicked pebbles across the ground like a child. The sound of her approaching car preceded your sight. The noise of her exhaust was followed by the blaring of Babooshka by the brilliant Kate Bush on her radio. Typical Yelena. She was driving her obnoxious yellow Ford Mustang; it was convertible. She made sure she knew that. It was her pride and joy, and she loved nothing more than it; well, she did love something more than that car, you.

Parking along the footpath, she had the roof down, and her blonde hair was flowing. While one hand was on the steering wheel, the other was hanging outside her window. In a pure white shirt, she exposed the muscles tense in her arm. Her sunglasses slowly slipped down the bridge of her nose as she peered over at you. She was undressing you with her eyes. She was chewing gum; she moved her lips slowly to match her motion.

“Still moody are we, Malishka?” Yelena called out from her car. The smile on her face was always devilish. Even though today didn't go as planned, you felt like it would be heaven on earth with Yelena.

“No”, You replied flatly as Yelena pushed her sunglasses back up to hide her eyes; she turned to face straight ahead of her as you made your way towards the car.

“I’m going to keep doing it until you admit you’re moody.”

“Keep doing wha-“ Before you could finish, She shoved her hand down on the horn as the already noisy auto began honking. Those who passed by started looking at the car with wonder. Redness flushed your face as you raced to the car.

“Yelena! Stop!”

“Mhm?”

“I’m not-“ You swiftly shook your head as the horn continued its outcry. She was stubborn, but so were you. She always won; there was no fighting with Yelena.

“I’m moody!” The moment you admitted it, she took her hand off the horn, resting her head back against the headrest as she stared up at you with a toothy grin.

“God, I hate you. You know that right?”

“Nah, you love me actually.” She was right about that. Yelena leaned across to open the door for you as you made your way to the passenger side. After entering, you shut the door behind you and automatically turned down the radio.

“Trying to go deaf are you?”

“Mhm?”

“I said are you trying to go deaf?”

“What?”

“I said- Oh forget it! Stop teasing me. I’m just looking after you!”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Feels like it sometimes, El.”

“Ha,” Yelena grumbled. Your laughter today was finally made possible because of Yelena's reaction. You were comforted by her. Talking to your person always made your worries go away. Yelena tutted and pulled your seatbelt into the latch plate as she leaned over your body, grasping your belt to make sure it was secure. Yelena put the car into gear as it began to move, the engine rumbling to life as she drove at the appropriate speed. She would never dream of speeding with you in the car.

“Do you want to talk about today?”

“No no, it was just one of those days.”

“Good, I don’t have to kill anyone...”

“No killing anyone.”

“Unless…”

“No”, You shushed her as you glanced at her with the corner of your eye; Yelena was smiling. She looked genuinely happy, which was a relief to you. She radiated happiness onto you; it was impossible to escape.

“It’s a beach day today.” The comment came from Yelena.

“Are you going to throw me in?”

“Actually… I’m still debating it.”

“What’s the pros and cons?”

“Con is that you’re pissed.”

“What’s the pro?”

“It will make you laugh.” You hadn't encountered anyone with the same kind of personality as her. Selflessness characterized her. Her heart was pure gold. Although she was tough, when her walls were broken, she became the softest person you'd ever met. It was easy to love her. She reached over for your hand; she took it in her hand before placing your hand on the clutch. To change gears, she held her hand yours, moving your hand in the desired direction. She was reluctant to let go but eventually cleared her throat to ask. Freeing your hand.

“Will you change the CD, Dorogoy?”

With ease, you opened the glovebox and located the CD binder. The 2000s saw a lot of popularity with these. Not now. Yelena's argument "It can fit so many CD's in it!" She wasn't wrong. It did. There was tons of CD's from all different genres in it. She bought CDs of the songs you played on your phone, not just the ones she liked. Even though she hid it from you, you started to notice when her binder began to fill up. You flicked through the CD’s until one caught your attention. As you saw a blank CD with writing on it, you paused. "For You" is spelled in Yelena's impeccable handwriting. While her eyes rested on the road, you turned to look at her, returning your focus to the CD. Yelena was smiling softly at you while you were busy changing CDs.

“You made this for me?”

“I did. I wanted to make you a playlist and well, there’s no Bluetooth so I did the best I can.”

“You’re too sweet. But… You do know downloading music and burning it on a CD is pretty illegal.”

“If your worrying over me downloading music, you should see what else I do” Yelena released a chuckle as the music played from the radio. You leaned over as you adjusted the volume up as the song The Chain by Fleetwood Mac came through.

“I know you like them wood people”, Yelena murmured under her breath. Suddenly, you felt the excitement in your stomach rise. What else was on this CD? We get so caught up in the big things when we fall in love with someone. The little things are always the most important. You weren't just going to sing; you were going to perform as well. As you sang at the top of your lungs, you began to sway in your chair.

“And if you don't love me now -“ Your hand clenched as if it was holding an invisible microphone as you held it to Yelena’s lips. She smiled, licking her lips as she finished the lyric.

“You will never love me again.” She sang without hesitation, and while her voice is usually harsh, it was smooth and soft this time. When you heard her singing, you burst into laughter and clapped your hands in glee. The music picked up, and your hands moved with the lyrics. You didn't miss a word. Yelena was beginning to tap with the beat of the song on the steering wheel, laughing at how passionate you had gotten.

“I could listen to you forever.”

“Unlucky for you, you have forever with me”, You chirped out as Yelena frowned, turning her head quickly to glance at you.

“Why would that make me unlucky?”

“I’m a pain in the ass.”

“True but you’re my pain in the ass” She sounded more and more sincere with every word she said. Your singing continued unabated. As soon as the next red light came on, Yelena slowed her car down to a stop. It was now possible to see the beach. You were too busy performing for nobody to notice that Yelena was watching you. When she saw you happy, her eyes glowed with childhood excitement. All she wanted was for you to be satisfied. Because you were focused on the big things like the beach, you missed the little things like how Yelena looked at you. Anyone would kill for the kind of look she gave you. Yelena’s expression suddenly changed when you looked at her, her face filled with horror. She wasn’t making a face at you but something behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly, everything went black. You lost all sense of time and purpose of self. Feeling an overwhelming sense of emptiness, you thought it overtake you. You felt alone. Yelena? Where was Yelena? Was Yelena okay? Had you fallen asleep? There was a noticeable pressure in your chest, almost as if it was being squeezed. You felt your lips tingle, and your lungs fill with air.

"Hey!" A distorted voice echoed inside your head, and you couldn't understand what was being said or even who it was?

"Wake up! Please wake up!" It was beginning to become more legible until a voice broke through the silence.

"Malishika!" Yelena, it was Yelena.

The world was blurry as your eyes snapped open. As you blinked rapidly, flashing lights obscured your view of the figure above you.

"Stay with me, stay with me please." You now knew what the pressure on your chest was; Yelena had been pressing hard and fast on the center of your chest. It was her rescue breaths that tingled your lips. The haze in your vision was clearing as you could see Yelena. It was evident from her face that she had been crying. Spikes of blood could be seen on her face as sweat ran down her forehead. It wasn't her blood. It was yours. 

In your disorientation, you did not know where you were. You were lying on the road when you suddenly remembered being in the car. Your eyes focused on Yelena's car as you tilted your head to look past her. Now you know what Yelena saw behind you. As you were sitting on the passenger side, a car ploughed straight into you through the red light. Yelena must have rescued you from the wreck. With growing dizziness and fatigue, your eyes began to flicker shut. The feeling of Yelena grasping your cheeks caused your eyes to dart open.

"Don't you dare close your eyes on me. I've lost everyone, I can't lose you too. I just can't. Please. Please don't go anywhere.. Just stay. Please just stay. I need you, god I need you. Please." She was begging you, pleading with you. The moment you tried to move, your body refused to react; you were powerless. With one hand on your stomach, she firmly grasped it. It was now clear that her previously pristine white t-shirt was heavily stained red. You felt queasy thinking that was yours.

"Hey, I'm okay. I'm okay baby. It's okay." You managed to whisper out as your voice was weak.

"It's not okay, it's really not okay. I don't know what to do! I can't stop the bleeding" Yelena's voice was firm, her jaw extending with the words she spoke as she tried to contain herself. She sobbed, her eyes flicking upward.

"It's okay, El. You can stop. Just stop."

"Don't fucking say that, don't ever fucking say that. You aren't going anywhere, you aren't. This is not a goodbye! Don't give me that bullshit. The paramedics will be here soon, they will! " She snapped.

"Baby, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Yelena? Do you hear me? "I love you. I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I love you. God, I love you. Don't forget that, you hear me?" Yelena dipped her head down as she slowly pressed her lips against your forehead. She placed her free hand into your locks of hair as she slowly began to run her fingers through the strands of your hair.

"Baby?" She called out one last time. Your eyes locked onto her green eyes, admiring them one last time. The world around you faded to grey; the last thing you heard was Yelena's scream.

[dasomlimie]

Heyyy! I hope ur doing okay if ur requests r open can l request reader asking if she can see whats under sanzu’s mask like that one scene in naruto where he tried so hard to see kakashi’s mask something similar and funny like that take ur time l love ur work <333

%% BEHIND THAT MASK! #!/

characters : aged up!—Sanzu Haruchiyo

a/n : i cant believe im rewrtiting this sorry if this is half assed tumblr didn't save my draft earlier, enjoy ig

Sanzu Haruchiyo..... your masked bf sometimes you were wondering what behind that mask but ofc you wanted to respect his boundaries and dont want to make him uncomfortable, but curiousity start to eat you alive so you have a little plan in your mind

sometimes there's a lot of idea in your mind on why Sanzu didn't remove his mask, maybe he have big lips that unmatched with his face future? or maybe he have crooked teeth? or even worse he doesn't have mouth! but you scratched the last idea since how did he speak if he doesn't have mouth? his nose? yeah that idea once stuck in your head but you decided to remove it because it doesn't make sense at all

you called Sanzu to meet you up infront of a restaurant which he agreed since maybe you were hungry and he is too, you greet Sanzu before taking his hand and walk into the restaurant with him

"today is my treat" you said smiling he raise an eyebrow you were cheerful more than usual "did something good happen?" he ask you shook his head "nope i just wanted to spend time with my lovely boyfriend" you said he nodded start looking at the menu

"are you ready to order?" he ask after a few minutes you nodded letting him call the waiter, you both said your order as the writer write down your order, you noticed Sanzu's order was a heavy meal he probably going to remove his mask

you smile to yourself before mentally patting yourself for coming up with this idea as soon as your food arrived you stare at Sanzu causing him to raise an eyebrow "whats up my love?" he ask you shook your head "nothing eat up" he nod "you too" you nod

you stare as he was about to remove his mask until your phone start ringing you look at the caller ID noticing it was your boss you look at Sanzu "eat first i have to answer this call" you said he nod as he watch your figure walking out from the restaurant

you listen to your boss rant about how her husband keep cancelling their date and how she think he was cheating on her while you were wondering why the hell your boss telling you all of this as she finally hang up you walk into the restaurant only to be greeted by Sanzu scrolling through his phone you blink

"oh baby! what took you too long? oh and im sorry i finished my food first i haven't eat since yesterday" he said giving you closed eyes smile you nod sitting "did you forgot to eat again?" you ask he nod "im very busy yesterday and just go to sleep as soon as i got home" he said you nod

attempt 1 : failed

"want some?" you ask offering your food he shook his head "im full already" he said you nodded visibly deflated "whats up pretty girl? you were all cheerful a while ago" he said chuckling you shook your head from side to side finding a reason and decided to use your boss phone call as your reason "she did it again" you said he pat your head

"did she start ranting to you again? what was is about?" he ask you sigh "about her husband this and that you know the usual why don't they just divorce?" you said leaning to your chair

"maybe you should find a new job if you were that sick of your boss personal life rant" he said you nodded "yeah i should" you said

the second attempt might make him mad but what is life without a little thrill and spice right? right.

you took a deep breath before apologizing gripping the tray in your hand you walk inside the room smiling at Sanzu you walk toward him then purposely trip yourself

you watch everything happen in slow motion how the juice flew and wetting his mask you cheer silently before your face kiss the floor you groan but being muffled by your carpet Sanzu gasp ignoring his wet clothes and mask

"y/n?! are you okay? oh my why are you suddenly become clumsy?" he ask as he help you to get up you have to swallow your image its not even 6 month into your relationship here you are doing stupid things just to what behind his mask

he hiss when he saw your red forehead with a little bloody lips "we should get that lips treated" he suggest you nodded "let me put this away your hoodie was in my closet along with extra mask" you said silently before walking out from the room leaving a little space for you to peak in

you feel your cheeks heat up as you watch his half naked body you silently cheer as he was about to remove his mask when your doorbell rang causing you to curse silent

you keep debating either to look and discover what behind your boyfriend mask or to answer the door you were deep in thought when Sanzu clear his throat his cheeks tinted with rosy pink just like his hair

"i didn't know you're that type of person" he said clearing his throat again you look up before cursing yourself "oh no you got the wrong idea let me go and answer the door ok?" you said walking a little bit too faster "be careful!" Sanzu called as he look you who almost tripped twice

attempt 2 : failed

you look at Sanzu as you keep following—more like stalking—him you tried to make sure you didn't lost him maybe he would remove his mask at the most random time especially when he's alone? yeah thats what you think ,you were now dressed in all black outfit paired with black cap and black mask

yup much like a stalker

you watch him keep turning and leading you to a dark hallways wondering what he was doing here, little did you know he noticed you following him but didn't have any idea it was his girlfriend

"fuck" you curse silently as you lost him you were about to take another turn when someone pull you to opposite turn you yelped both in suprise and pain when your back make a harsh contact to the cold and dirty wall you hiss from how strong someone's grip on your hands is

"who are you and why are you following me?" he ask you stay silent too scared to answer him, Sanzu chuckle "why are you all silent? acting all scared are we?" he said you shiver under his sharp gaze

"i ask you questions" he said you shut your eyes he sigh annoyed and start to loose his patients then decided to remove both your mask and cap you felt his grip on your hands loosening

"y/n?" he said in softer voice than earlier you still shut your eyes tightly slightly trembling "darling look at me" he said as one of hand slither to your waist while the other cup your cheeks thumb caressing your cheeks "open your eyes my love im not going to hurt you" he said you open your eyes slowly meeting his soften gaze

"why are you following me like that? i thought you were one of those people who tried to get me again" he said chuckling you didn't answer instead hugging him burying your face into his chest

"did i scare you that much?" he ask you shook your head as a no, you were actually embarassed of yourself for doing dumb thing to get him to remove his mask

"then why?" he ask hugging you close to him "im sorry" you said he raise an eyebrow "why?" "im sorry for doing dumb thing lately and following you like earlier" you said he chuckled you look up to him

"i get it now" he said removing you from him gently then cup your cheeks with both of his hands "you know you can just ask right?" you pout "i just dont want to make you feel uncomfortable" he shook his head

"you will never im actually waiting for you to ask me by yourself" he said you nodded "then can i uh you know" he nod letting you remove his mask

heart beating loudly Sanzu was prepared from any insult from you yet nothing came our from your mouth, does he freak you out? he was about to apologize when you whispered out a very unexpected word he expects you to say

"beautiful" you said he froze not believing what he just heard "what?" he ask for confirmation "i said beautiful" you repeat before caressing his scars with both of your thumb he sigh in relief

"really? i thought you were going to freaked out" he said you shook your head with confused face while your attention was still on his face "why would i?" you ask

"people always told me its disgusting i thought you would too but apparently not im relieved" you heart broke a little from his words "who the hell said your scars is disgusting?! let me beat them up" you said with determination he shook his head "its okay you were an absolute angel i cant imagine you beating people up" he said pressing a kiss on your forehead

"you look hotter without mask" you whisper he smile "is that so?" he ask you nodded then cover his face with his mask "and only me can see you my beautiful and handsome and hot boyfriend without his mask no one can see your full face they would fall for you" you said he chuckled before ruffling your hair

"whatever you say angel" he said you smile as he lead you out from the hallway just so your know he would use your silly attempt to tease you in the future

attempt 3 : successfully failed

!%! © HNEULWH— i did not allow my work to be used or adapted in any form without my permission !#//

[nightingaelic]

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 13 - ao3 -

The wedding of a sect leader with the stature of Wen Ruohan was, as Lao Nie had predicted, an experience unlike any Lan Qiren had ever had before.

It was also, as Wen Ruohan had predicted, loud and full of crowds, things that Lan Qiren didn’t especially like. Luckily, despite being the groom’s ‘brother’, Wen Ruohan wasn’t requiring Lan Qiren to actually participate in any way, and he was just able to watch from a distance.

He tried not to think of Wen Ruohan’s casual admission that he had, in fact, devised the marriage just to deal with the issues with Lan Qiren’s reputation – and Lao Nie’s concern thereof, no doubt – and reassured himself that the bride was undoubtedly well prepared for her new life and would soon find her footing as the mistress of the Wen sect, where she would more than likely be happy in time.

That was how such things went, wasn’t it? Even with his sect’s notorious tendency towards love-madness, the people like his father, who married for love, were the exception and not the rule…

(He also tried not to think about the fact that Wen Ruohan accepted all the toasts for his wedding using a drinking bowl in Gusu style, painted with a border of vermilion birds, or the fact that, despite Lan Qiren having gifted a set, it was the only one of its kind on the table, leaving Wen Ruohan's new bride to drink from a much fancier gold-gilded bowl – but that was more because he didn’t understand what it meant, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.)

“Did you even get a chance to see him?” his brother asked when they returned, looking coldly disapproving.

“I did,” Lan Qiren said, thinking to himself less of the dinner that they’d shared with Lao Nie and more of the brief moment when the Lan sect delegation been about to leave, a servant appearing and whisking him off briefly back to the family quarters where Wen Ruohan, looking as composed as ever, pressed a too-familiar hand to his head and told him that he was sure he’d be seeing him again soon. “He didn’t say much.”

Nothing his brother would care about, anyway.

His brother nodded, looking unsurprised, and dismissed him, remarking unnecessarily, “You missed the first few days of classes,” as if Lan Qiren wasn’t aware of when each season of classes started for the disciples better than him. After all, Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher one day, when he tired of traveling, and to do for future generations of the Lan sect what his teachers had done for him, and he took it as seriously as he did anything else.

The seasonal classes were his favorite, largely because such classes were open not only to the Lan sect disciples but to certain guest disciples – typically the children of rogue cultivators that the Lan sect wanted to encourage to join the sect, which meant that they had to pass through the same rigorous standards applicable to the usual sect disciples. Lan Qiren had always thought it was a shame that their classes were so limited in scope, although he acknowledged there wasn’t much to be done about it; after all, how many sects would be willing to send their children to be taught by outsiders?

A puzzle for another day.

For now, Lan Qiren made his way to the classroom, taking advantage of the lunch break to settle his things in his familiar seat at the side of the room. He hoped that coming in during the middle of the day would reduce the number of whispers that seemed to invariably greet him these days – luckily much more inclined to see him as a source of information rather than a victim or, worse, a perpetrator – but he didn’t have much faith in it.

“Hey, you’re in my seat.”

Lan Qiren looked up: it was a female disciple. Her face was unfamiliar to him, which suggested she was a rogue cultivator – while men and women lived separately in the Cloud Recesses, they came together for meals and other such events, and despite his introversion, Lan Qiren knew most if not all of his peer group by now.

“Sanren,” he said politely, rising and saluting. “Forgive me, but this has always been my seat.”

She frowned at him. “You didn’t claim it at the start of classes.”

“I missed the start of classes due to an unavoidable conflict.”

“I’ve been using it all week,” she said, and looked at him expectantly, as if anticipating an answer.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say here. “I’ve been using it all my life. What’s your point?”

“So you’re not going to give it up for me?”

Lan Qiren stared at her. “Obviously not.”

She grinned toothily at him. “All the boys give up their seats for me. I understand that it’s a matter of etiquette.”

“Whoever told you that was lying,” he said flatly.

“Oh, I like you,” she said, and crossed her arms – an aggressive posture, although her tone, like Wen Ruohan’s, seemed more amused than anything else. How strange to see a sudden resemblance, when they very clearly had nothing else in common. “How would you know? Maybe it’s in the rules.”

Well, that was a mistake.

“Really,” Lan Qiren said, and smiled. “Why don’t we examine that supposition?”

She blinked at him, suddenly wary, but it was too late: if there was one thing Lan Qiren knew, it was his sect’s rules. Learning how to beat people over the head with them on purpose was a more recent development, and he was still working on fine-tuning that – most people started begging for mercy while he still felt irritated, but when they continued listening with apparent interest, as the rogue cultivator girl did, he swiftly forgot that he was trying to make a point and shifted over to actual enthusiasm for the subject.

“Cangse Sanren!”

Lan Qiren’s listener started and very nearly fell over – she’d put her chin on her hands at some point during the discussion of the origin of the rules regarding interactions between men and women, and hadn’t accounted for that when twisting to see who was calling her.

It was a mixed group of sect disciples, with some of Lan Qiren’s cousins and disciples of other surnames that he recognized, plus a few more that were likely rogue cultivators’ children as well.

“Oh,” she said. “You. What is it?”

“I see you got caught up in one of Lan-er-gongzi’s boring rule lectures,” one of the disciples said – one of Lan Ganhui’s friends, with Lan Ganhui himself nearby, grimacing at him in an attempt to make him stop. Lan Ganhui had gotten a lot more likely to leave Lan Qiren alone ever since Lan Yueheng had decided to befriend him, even intervening to make his friends leave off, but this time the other disciple ignored him, his eyes too focused on those ahead of him to pay him any mind; he was smiling intently at the rogue cultivator girl in a way that was clearly attempting to seem charming. “Don’t feel like you have to listen to him just because he’s main branch, you know! No one else does.”

“You shouldn’t say that,” one of the others muttered, glancing warily at Lan Qiren. It wasn’t apparent whether he was concerned about Lan Qiren’s rank, personality, or family connection.

For his part, Lan Qiren just felt tired. He would like to think that they were all part of the same sect, learning the same things, but he knew that wasn’t how the world worked. There were good people and bad in every sect, and the undercurrents that came with any community were inescapable.

“You’re joking, right?” the girl – who had the title of Cangse Sanren, apparently – said unexpectedly. “His explanation is three times more interesting than the stupid learning by rote we’ve been doing so far.”

“Learning by repetition has a long history of being the most effective way of learning something,” Lan Qiren objected. “Even the most unrepentant scoundrel would learn the rules by heart if he had to copy them down for a month, and then when that was done and the foundation built, you could get started on explaining the why of them.”

“But repetition’s not as interesting,” Cangse Sanren said. “I really liked that story about Lan Yi.”

Lan Qiren looked at her suspiciously. He’d never outgrown his tendency to speak in a dull monotone – one of his peers had once compared it to the thudding of grinding stones in a mill – and it was the rare person who actually appreciated the rules the way he did. His teachers, of course, and some of the other more studious disciples did, but even with them he’d be hard pressed to say they actually liked his rambling.

She held up her hands. “Really! I feel like I understand why she put the rule in place now, whereas before it felt like I was just learning the rule for the sake of learning the rule.”

“That’s because you need to learn the rules before you learn the background,” he said. “The rules are a house built without nails, each piece in its place doing its part to maintain the whole - one rule backs another, while being supported in turn. Only once you know what the rules are can you move to understanding the reasons behind them.”

And from understanding to accepting, allowing our ancestors’ wisdom to act as a guiding light that clears the fog from your path, he wanted to say, because he loved the rules, truly and sincerely.

People made fun of him sometimes, thinking him boring or stuffy or overly strict, with no flexibility and too little empathy, saying he was obsessed with the rules for no beneficial purpose, but to him the rules were a gift from the past to the future. The Wall of Discipline represented the accumulated life experience of dozens if not hundreds of Lan sect disciples before him, turned through debate and contemplation into advice they thought would be able to help guide those that came after them to living a good, clean, happy life. As their descendant, how could he fail to honor that which those people, who had loved him without knowing him, had strained themselves to give him?

In just the same way, it was his duty to love the future generations that had yet to be born, to act as the bridge to that unknown future, entrusted by his ancestors to carry to them the rules that would be both his inheritance and his legacy. Those nameless faces dressed in Lan white, unborn children with his brother’s face or even his own, of his cousins and fellow disciples alike, all those souls that had yet to enter this world but who he loved so much already – if he could spare them a single iota of pain through his own experience, how could he not do so, and gladly? How could he not do everything he could to give them everything he had received from the rules, that sense of pride of their history, the strength and wisdom that could be passed down no other way? How could that be a burden?

Lan Qiren had never really had the chance to explain any of that to anyone, his tongue too stiff and clumsy to convey what sometimes he felt could only be expressed in song or poetry, and he did not have such a chance now: as usual, the other disciples were already laughing, dismissing him as a teacher’s pet, overly rule-bound, obsessed with homework and test-taking, a boring old fart whose soul was prematurely aged.

“What’s wrong with being old?” Cangse Sanren asked, her voice flatter than it was before, and the boys in front of her suddenly scrambled to start apologizing so fast that Lan Qiren was left wondering what exactly he’d missed.

“Class is starting soon,” he said instead of asking, though he promised himself he’d ask around later. Surely someone would know. “Everyone should take your seat – no, Cangse Sanren, as I’ve said, that one is mine.”

She grinned unrepentantly at him and stepped back over where he’d kicked his foot out to block her. “You win, this time,” she said, and took the seat next to him with absolutely no remorse for whoever might have been sitting there before. “Watch yourself, stick-in-the-mud.”

Lan Qiren glared, though somehow Cangse Sanren’s teasing didn’t feel as annoying as the other disciples’ usually did. Even if she did make several more attempts on his seat over the course of the day, causing him to have to fend her off or think ahead to evade her latest attempt.

He initially thought that she might try to come to class early the next day to try to claim it before he did, but instead she dragged herself in only moments before class was due to start, face haggard as if waking up at the very tail end of mao hour was the equivalent to rising at yin, although she was back to her regular form soon enough, bright and clever enough to make any teacher fond of her.

This became something of a pattern, in fact – sluggish wakening, intellectual jousting during class and an unspoken competition over the seat that had formerly been reserved for him outside of it. In the afternoons she usually went off with the more martially minded disciples, while he spent his time in the library or musical halls, though at some point she started dropping off random foodstuffs by his door in the early evening as if she thought he was too thin.

“Maybe she has a crush on you!” Lan Yueheng said enthusiastically; bizarrely enough, he seemed to like romance as much as his explosions or his math.

“I think it’s a little closer to treating me like a stray cat that she found and took a shine to,” Lan Qiren said, shaking his head. All the boys in the sect would have paid in gold and jewels for Cangse Sanren to give them a second look, and she didn’t care one whit for the best of them; there was no need for her to go courting when she could get three serious offers of marriage just by winking. “Give them here, I’ll redistribute them to the younger children.”

“You can’t do that!” Lan Yueheng looked offended. “It’s her sincere offering! From the heart!”

“It’s food she purchased in town,” Lan Qiren said doubtfully. “It’s not as if she baked them herself. Anyway, I can’t eat this many sweets without getting a stomachache. What else am I supposed to do with it? Let it rot?”

“Qiren-xiong, you’re the most unromantic person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m going to assume that’s a bad thing,” Lan Qiren said, not taking offense. “Do you want some? Last offer before they’re gone.”

“…well, I mean, if you’re going to give them away anyway…”

He told Cangse Sanren what he was doing the next day, as a matter of politeness in the event that she wanted to stop once she knew what he was doing, and she just laughed – she always laughed at just about everything, he’d found. She didn’t stop delivering food, either, which he might have expected, though she did shift over into items that were easier to distribute.

Their entire mode of interacting was simultaneously very annoying and also not, and Lan Qiren didn’t have the slightest idea about what to do with it.

And then he got his first letter from Wen Ruohan.

[charming-2d-boys]

yayy! the ask box is open!!! may I have a request on how the adultrio would do if they wanted to kiss their female crush so bad and lovingly, but their crush secretly likes them so they kissed them back😚? Thank you❤️

Ohoho, anon 😏

Here come the emotional ice cubes melting from a kiss (can you imagine that happening? ><)

Thank you for the cute request and I hope you’ll like it! 🙇

A/N: hope it’s cute enough, I really tried to make it fluffy. One of them is loosely based on a personal experience, he he 😏

Chrollo

whipped to hell and back

now Chrollo suddenly understands all those books and poems about love and romance he’s been reading

he thought they were beautiful, but probably a little exaggerated

how could a human being feel so strongly about another one?

well, turns out, they can

while the Troupe says nothing

not that Chrollo’s expression or mannerisms change much in front of them

when it comes to you, he seems… softer

like he can just breathe a little better, see the brighter side of things

those who have known him for long, like Pakunoda or Feitan, can sense the change almost instantly

Chrollo might try to act like he usually does, but even they can see that he seems a little bit distracted

plus, he spends just a bit more time on his phone than usual and sometimes smiles when he looks at the screen

he’s always amused by what you tell him

or when you send him a photo of something you saw

or thought he might like or that reminded you of him

the Spiders think it’s cute

crush or not, they know that Chrollo seems happier and it always makes them happier as well

he isn’t even sure if you like him back

you’re always friendly and affectionate with him

so he’s happy with what he can get, even if he’d want more

but he’s happy to be able to spend time with you

so when you’re both free, he invites you to hangout

he’d like to call it a date, but he’s not sure if he should tell you how he actually feels just yet

if only he knew that you were in the same situation…

you two always go to pretty interesting places and always have fun, no matter where you are

Chrollo is so happy when you’re enjoying the street food he’s bought for the both of you

you remind him of a little chipmunk

and he’s even amused when he takes a bit of the food from your cheek

which he hopes flusters you at least a little bit because it’s cute how you try to look anywhere but at him

it works, but it makes him chuckle, which you love hearing

so win-win situation

Chrollo insists on taking you home because he’s a gentleman and wants you to be safe

if there was something you’d noticed throughout your entire hangout it’s that Chrollo’s been glancing at your lips quite often

you’d checked your face subtly in the restroom and in reflective surfaces, but there was nothing

if you thought it was what it was, then you were ready

when you reach your door and turn around, Chrollo’s smiling softly

he’s still trying to steel himself to just do something and hoping it won’t make you resent him: confess, kiss you, hold your hand, hug you, anything

he’s been dreaming and imagining kissing you for so long

always replacing the characters in books with the two of you

and imagining all the romance and clichés in poems as he does them with you

Chrollo just feels like his heart won’t be able to go on for long if he doesn’t get to bring his thoughts to life

his eyes automatically go to your lips and you feel yourself smiling

you’re counting in your head until you will hug him

you wouldn’t want to kiss Chrollo and make him uncomfortable, after all

but before you’re done counting, Chrollo’s hands are on your cheeks, thumbs caressing the skin softly

and his lips are softer than you thought they might be

and whether he expects you to be surprised or not, you don’t really wait before kissing him back

well, Chrollo is actually the surprised one

he definitely didn’t expect you to react so well and so quickly

but he can’t complain

it only makes him pull you closer and deepen the kiss

it’s so easy to feel each other smile into the kiss

Hisoka

Hisoka has been “confessing” for quite some time

okay, I’m sorry, but it always makes you laugh

he just says it in such a teasing and eccentric way that it’s hard to believe him

well, that was Hisoka’s intention since the beginning

but over time, it just started becoming a little frustrating

he had thought about whether he actually liked you or not

Hisoka had taken some time away from you

it was because of something personal, but he also saw it as an experiment

during the first few days, when he was significantly busier, he barely had time to think of you, though you were still somewhere there, in the back of his mind

but you were always the last thought before sleeping and the first one when he was waking up

he’d sometimes send you some filtered selfies – his own way of reassuring you that he was okay

he honestly can’t wait to be done and come back to you

maybe he might even take you to some of the places he’s seen one day

…

Hisoka just realises that he might have a BIG tiny crush on you

the rest of the days he’s gone are spent reflecting and thinking about you

do you like him back?

do you even consider him a friend?

well, those questions will have to wait

as soon as he’s back and taken a shower, Hisoka insists on hanging out at your place

you’d insisted on having movie nights at least once a month

junk food, comfortable clothes, laziness and a nice and invigorating skin-care routine

the two of you pretty much just melt into the cushions after you’ve stuffed yourselves full

despite the invigorating face masks, you’re both pretty tired

not enough to fall asleep, but not enough to clean up the mess around you

you’re laying down on the couch, your head almost touching the side of Hisoka’s thigh while he sits upright, but a little bit slumped to the side, close to you

one of his hands is absentmindedly playing with the fingers on one of your hands

the movie playing for you isn’t the most interesting

well, your tiredness makes it even less interesting

Hisoka looks down at you and smiles a little when he notices that your eyes are closed

his hand squeezes your own before it leaves for your cheek

the touch of his fingers is almost feather-light

Hisoka’s pretty sure that you’re tired enough to answer his questions without really thinking through

(Y/N), are we friends? ♠️

Mm, ‘course we are…

And what would you say if I told you I like you? ♥️

Very funny, ‘Soka…

his expression sours a little at that

What if I’m serious this time? ♣

Sure you are… you always are…

Hisoka is actually a little annoyed

how dense could you be?

he would tease you and always make it seem like you had a crush on him

but he was actually serious for once – no smile, no teasing

too bad he didn’t realise that this was your plan ever since he’d started playing with your fingers

Then can I show you? ♦

Mhm…

he’s a little nervous, but he smirks nevertheless and licks his lips before kissing you

he probably expected you to either be shocked and hit him

or kiss him back sleepily

but you pretty much just kissed him back, a lot harder than he did

your hand cupping his cheek

his eyes were wide as he saw you open yours

and you let go of his lips, grinning mischievously

it barely lasted for a second before he was pulling you upright and in his arms, lips diving in back to yours as he smirked happily

you’d tease him about his so-called confession later

Illumi

someone help this poor guy already

yeah, so, Illumi had no idea that he even felt anything for you

for quite a while

he was a bit too dense when it came to how affectionate you were

some of your gestures were on purpose

pretty much just testing the waters

but Illumi thought that that’s how you treated everyone

so he didn’t see himself as anyone special in your life

cue face-palm

but yeah, you decided that you’d leave it at that

if it happened and Illumi would ever like you romantically, great

if not, then you’d slowly move on and remain only friends

it’s not until Hisoka jokingly asks Illumi if you’re single that he sort of stops

his fingers twitch a little, almost ready to grab his needles

and his bloodlust increases

Hisoka smirks knowingly before telling him that he was only joking

Illumi can’t stop thinking about the moment though

he keeps theorising about what it’d be like if you told him that you found someone you liked

oh, he did not like that at all

he would’ve asked you, but since you were the subject of the new… feelings he was having, it didn’t seem like such a good idea

so, on to the internet

pretty much every site he checked said the same thing: a crush on its way to becoming actual love

next level: denial

Illumi is an assassin

he doesn’t need friends

he doesn’t need love

so how did he fall for you?

not even he knows

but he knows that, as much as he denies it, he likes being around you

spending time with you, hearing you talk, hearing you laugh, especially if he made you laugh

the thoughts of taking you out and actually getting to be the only one for you slowly make him accept the situation he’s in

and the more time he spends with you, the more Illumi starts thinking about wanting to confess

you’re as affectionate and friendly as ever

and Illumi actually glares at anyone who comes close to you with the intention of flirting

that hangout of yours means the two of you go to a little ice cream parlour

Illumi’s treat, as he always insists

he’s listening to you talk about what you’ve been doing while he was away for a mission for a few days

to others, it looks like he’s zoning out, words going in one ear and out the other

but you know better

Illumi is literally hanging on to your every word, watching the way your eyes crinkle in happiness

they way your cheeks almost seem to develop dimples from how hard you’re trying not to smile too much

the way your lips move and how they look so kissable

he absentmindedly takes a spoonful of his ice cream

attention snapping to your laughter as you’re looking at him with a fond smile

you lean forward and Illumi does it too without even thinking

your intention was to wipe the side of his mouth with your napkin since he didn’t seem to have noticed the ice cream there

while he thought that you wanted to kiss him

so he did it for you instead

you were stunned for a fraction of a second before smiling and pulling him closer, hands on his cheeks

Illumi could feel his heart beat loudly in his chest

he didn’t see the shock on the other customers’ faces

honestly, neither did you

you were both a little too busy enjoying the moment

but when you laughed happily because your crush was actually mutual and you even got your first kiss with him

Illumi’s lips quirked in a little smile before he fed you some of his remaining ice cream

holding onto your hand tightly as you continued talking and occasionally kissing here and there

no one said a thing, too afraid of Illumi

good thing you weren’t

[tarysande]

S6 Thoughts: A Tale of Two Brothers

But wait! There’s more. Thoughts on the overall arc of the series, Heaven and Hell edition:

In S1, Lucifer is “vacationing” on Earth but doesn’t plan to return to Hell. Amenadiel spends that season trying so hard to force Lucifer back to Hell, where he “belongs,” that he himself Falls. We’ve got this role reversal of an angel doing evil things to return the devil (doing ... good things, like solving crimes) to Hell. It’s all very “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” 

In S2, Lucifer still has no plans to return permanently to Hell, but he’s willing to face it to save Chloe. Of course, this then leads to him experiencing his own forced hell-loop. Amenadiel is also conflicted. Though he’s changed enough that he no longer wants to force Lucifer back to Hell, he’s still uncertain where that leaves either of them. In fact, even when Lucifer pleads with Amenadiel to return him to Hell, Amenadiel refuses. However, when Mum plants the idea of returning to Heaven as a family, Amenadiel clings to that. He’s looking for a purpose. Lucifer, on the other hand, is still very much aboard the Heaven nope train. Here, we also get the foreshadowing of celestial war, and Lucifer’s rejection of Mum’s plan because “In war, there are always casualties.” He would rather sacrifice one--Mum, Uriel--for the many. But it hurts him. If he belongs anywhere, he thinks, it’s Earth ... but, ultimately, that’s shortsighted because we know he doesn’t actually want to be on an Earth that doesn’t have the people he’s coming to care about on it.

S3 is, as we all know, a bit of a mess. But, hey, it’s actually thematically appropriate! Lucifer’s having an identity crisis (wings) that just keeps giving (or taking), and even though subconsciously (we later realize) he gave himself the wings because he was, in fact, making progress reconciling his past and present, his conscious is backsliding like (pun not intended) hell. Much as he wants Earth to be home, he’s got these non-stop reminders of both Heaven and Hell. It makes complete narrative sense that this season reaches the point where he can no longer hide from himself--or from Chloe. 

In this season, we also see Amenadiel really start to settle into the idea of staying on Earth, of embracing humanity. He’s shedding the aloofness he once had. He’s learning (we later realize) how to be the kind of God who sheds mysterious ways in favor of boots on the ground. I mean, he doesn’t realize this. But Dad ... well, he has a Plan. Lucifer begins the season with sudden wings. Amenadiel ends it with his wings’ very deliberate return. 

In many ways, this season is about Hell on Earth and torture at the hands of an entity far more intentionally and deliberately evil than the actual devil. This is why the catalyst of Cain is so important. He is all the things Lucifer has been accused of being, only he embraces it in ways we’ve seen Lucifer reject and recoil from again and again. This season is torture (lol). It’s Hell. It’s every ugly thing lies beget. And much as we love Lucifer, we’re given an extreme close-up of how his omission of truth is very nearly as devastating as Cain’s outright lies. Of course, this nearly results in Chloe’s death (in more ways than one; you can’t tell me that godforsaken marriage wouldn’t have been like dying), and the devil’s vengeance results in the removal of Lucifer’s choice about the where and when to reveal his true nature to Chloe. 

Which brings us to S4, aka The Season of Angst. For Lucifer (and Chloe), anyway. Not so much for Amenadiel, who is set on the path of fatherhood, of responsibility, of partnership and not just commands he expects to be followed. In case we’ve forgotten how much Amenadiel has changed, Remiel “mini-Amen” shows up to remind us. In Linda’s “When angels fall, they also rise” of it, Amenadiel is rising again. He’s not the same as he was, no, but ... we didn’t like old Amenadiel very much, did we? Like Lucifer, Amenadiel is on a journey of learning who he is, the good and the ugly, so he can choose the parts he wants to keep with both eyes open. 

Of course, while Amenadiel is rising, Lucifer is falling. In having to deal with Chloe’s reaction to his devil face, Lucifer is put in the uncomfortable position of either growing enough to face his own darkness and self-loathing or retreating, very literally, into who he used to be because it’s comfortable and less frightening than the prospect of change and the unknown. Until it isn’t, right? The more he becomes the devil Eve remembers, the more uncomfortable he becomes. And the more frightening he becomes. Not to Chloe, as he fears, but to himself--though it takes a while to recognize it. If nothing else, we have to hand this to Lucifer’s subconscious: when it wants him to PAY ATTENTION DUMMY, it’s pretty good at getting its point across. If S3 was Hell on Earth starring Cain as the devil, S4 is Hell on Earth starring, well, the devil as the devil with bonus demons. It’s Lucifer’s earthbound iteration of a guilt-induced hell-loop. And at the tragic end, he chooses to return to the place he swore he’d never return, losing everything good in the process, but doing it for selfless reasons. So, that’s new. And it’s why there was still a sliver of hope even when things looked impossibly dark.

S5 begins with Lucifer in Hell--farther from the things he cares about than he has ever been, but also closer to his true calling. Not that he realizes it; this is Lucifer we’re talking about. So, of course it makes sense that as the season goes on, he’ll end up confused by suddenly having everything he always thought he wanted within his grasp. The Lucifer who led a rebellion against his father because he thought he could do better than God? Of course that part of him wants to be handed the job now. No--he wants to earn it. And while some of his reasons are not great, others are. His heartbreak about the injustice and unfairness of life, well ... who hasn’t felt that way? Who hasn’t wanted the power to unilaterally make things better? But that’s not how free will works. That’s not how choice works. While Lucifer wrestles with the necessity of becoming God, Amenadiel recoils from what his S1 self would have seen as his right and his calling. S1 Amenadiel would have made a terrifying and inflexible and absolute and judgmental God. Perhaps even a God closer to our imaginings of Evil than Good.

S6 is about how sometimes personal growth means we grow out of old dreams and acquire new ones. Sometimes, it’s about reimagining those old dreams, rebuilding them with new information. For Amenadiel, that means recognizing that the person he is now is the best man for the Big Job. It means recognizing that Heaven can be (a place) on Earth if he wants it to be. It means he sets aside the pride of “If God wants something done, he sends ME” in favor of delegation and accepting help--and in doing so, helping others (his siblings) discover their callings too. He learns to lead by example, tempered with love and humility.

In Paradise Lost, Milton’s Lucifer famously declares that it is better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven. But our Lucifer ... his calling isn’t ruling in Heaven. That’s the old dream of a person who no longer exists. Ironically, Lucifer’s calling is to serve in Hell. Not to serve a distant, ineffable, unfathomable being’s mysterious ways, mind you, but to tangibly serve the humans he has come to love, and who have taught him so much about himself. Who have taught him about love and sacrifice and light and darkness and second chances and hope and faith. When Lucifer chooses to return to Hell, he does so with his eyes open, just as Chloe returns to the LAPD with her eyes open. It’s a lesson that revisits the first episode of the season: Truth and wonder don’t have to be at odds. They can go hand in hand. The mysteries at the heart of pain and suffering and trauma--those are the ones Lucifer wants to solve. Because solving them isn’t about trusting to a higher power (aka the justice system, which is flawed) or designing the perfect torture. It’s about quite literally helping others set themselves free. Finding release. It’s about being a guide, not a judge. And it’s about fulfilling not the temporary desire that merely scratches the itch, but offering the tools necessary to help others determine--choose--their path to the desire they may not even realize is buried beneath the layers of scar tissue within them. And what could be more wonderous than that? Especially when you have a partner who makes you better at your calling, even as you make them better at theirs.

In the end, Heaven and Hell are what we make of them. One person’s Heaven is another person’s Hell. Love is what matters. In all its many, many forms.

[after-witch]

So Far (Yandere Hawks x Reader)

Title: So Far

Synopsis: Follow up to "So Close." Hawks realizes that in order to build you up as the perfect partner, you've got to be broken down first.

Word Count: 2163

Notes: yandere, choking, violence, food deprivation, malnourishment 

You wish you could stand up and properly stretch. But the unassuming crawl space that Keigo unceremoniously pushed you into after bringing you "home" was too small for that. The ceiling was low, and 

You pull your knees up against your chest and wince at the pain in your thighs and legs. The floor was concrete, and the drop had hurt--enough to bruise, at least, but the dim lighting from a single, small window didn't really provide an opportunity for you to check.

You flinch when you hear the half-sized door open, and not a moment later does Keigo enter, ducking his head  to avoid hitting the ceiling. He has a tray with him, which he sets down in front of you. A glass of water and leftovers from the other night, still streaming from the microwave.

Your stomach seems to growl on cue, but you fight the urge to reach for the food and instead stay still. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of feeding you right now.

Keigo sighs, as if sensing your defiance, and crouches down until he's sitting on his heels. He stares at you. You stare back, hoping your gaze looks braver than you feel.

"This is my fault," he says, finally. Low and sad, you can see his lips curling downward in a frown. "I shouldn't have done this."

Your heart feels like it skips a beat. Could… could he be letting you go? Did he finally realize how fucked up this all was?

He regards you for a moment, nearly grimacing. "I expected you to adapt to your new life all on your own." He shakes his head. "It's not easy dating a hero, huh?"

You stare at him, dumbfounded beyond belief.

You can't stop yourself from spluttering out the words, "Are you crazy?"

Keigo ignores your little outburst. "Nope," he says, his voice taking on a slight drawl. "It’s not easy dating a hero at all. Not easy being taken care of, especially when I know you're not used to it."

It's then that his infuriating grin finds its way back onto his lips. A grin you've come to hate so, so much. "I understand now--it wasn't fair to expect you to get used to this all on your own. But don't worry babe, I'll help you."

You can’t take it. Feelings of helpless and anger and physical soreness bubble over, and you crack.

"Fuck you fuck you fuck you! Just leave me alone!"

You don't stop to think before your hands grab the glass of water on the tray and you throw it directly at Keigo's head. He jerks at the sudden movement, and the glass hits his shoulder, shattering on impact. You barely hear the cracking glass when you lift the tray and chuck it just as hard, dumping the contents of the leftovers all over yourself and Keigo in the process. This time, he's prepared, and the tray is easily smacked to the side. It collides with the concrete wall.

And so do you, in an instant. Keigo is kneeling on what must be glass with his hands around your throat, pressing so hard that you can't breath. You hear rushing in your ears and wonder if this is finally it. His breathing is rough and erratic as he presses you against the concrete. You can't speak, you're in so much pain, you can't even breathe. Your hands claw at his own, instinctive and animalistic, and you must have made some sort of cry because Keigo suddenly lets go.

You take in ragged breaths and hold your bruising neck with your shaking fingers. You suck in air and shakily glance at Keigo, who has scooted backwards to press his own back against the other side of the room. He looks shocked. Afraid. He says nothing, taking deep breaths himself, before crawling into the doorway so he can stand up. You see his look turn impassive and neutral and dark before he mutters: "Fine. Fine. Fuck me? I'll leave you alone."

The door slams with a terrifying finality, and you listen helplessly to the sounds of multiple locks clicking into place.

--

You can't remember the last time you felt full. Or even close to it. Food, hunger, your stomach. The preoccupying hunger that you feel at least gives you something to do in your current situation.

Since that day, Keigo has been more or less true to his word. He's left you alone. He opens the door in the morning--you think it's the morning, it has become hard to tell the time with no lighting but what seeps through the window. Then he sets down a thin, plastic tray and nudges it with his foot. He lifts up your waste bucket and doesn’t so much as glance at you (even when, like you do lately, you try to talk to him) before turning around and shutting the door. Then come the locks. Click, click, click, click. Four locks.

Your meals are always the same. A glass of water in a plastic cup--safe, safe for Keigo and probably safer for you, lest you get any ideas of what to do with glass. Plain rice in a small plastic bowl. He stopped giving you chopsticks when he caught you trying to use one in the doorknob lock. Now you have a plastic spoon. It's blue.

You used to scarf down the rice, desperate and hungry, but now you’re more careful. Because sometimes breakfast (if it’s morning, you think, but maybe it’s actually lunch?) is the only meal that Keigo gives you for the day. You used to think he wasn’t feeding you much on purpose. Now you realize that the truth is much scarier: he’s forgetting about you, tucked into this little crawl space room with nothing in it but misery. 

Or maybe, you think. Maybe he’s so busy with hero work that he doesn’t have time to be constantly dipping into your little room with meals. If you weren’t in this little room, if you were free to roam the house and the kitchen, you could feed yourself when he’s not here, like you used to.

But you’re not out there, so today, like other days, you pick up a half spoonful of rice with your trusty blue spoon and carefully set it in your mouth. You lick the granules with purpose and let them rest on your tongue. One, two, three, four. Four seconds. Then you swallow.

That’s enough for now. You decide to stretch your rice out as long as possible, because you think today might be a scarce meal day. You haven’t heard Keigo near the door since the morning, so you assume he’s already gone to work. You hope he brings back your bucket tonight, because you really do have to go. If he does, you decide, you’re going to ask him if he could maybe bring you two bowls of rice tomorrow--just in case he gets so busy he can’t feed you again.

Over the course of the day, you eat the rest of your bowl, half-spoonful by half-spoonful. It staves away the sharpest of your hunger pains, but it’s never enough to stop them. You distract yourself with stories that you like to tell while tapping your finger on something--your knee, the wall, the floor. Sometimes your glass. After some time, you look up and realize the light has gotten even dimmer, and oh--it must be night time. 

You like to fall asleep before it gets truly pitch black, so you curl up on your side and try to cradle your head in your arms. You wish the floor wasn’t so cold. You wish you had a night light for when it was pitch dark inside the room. You also wish, vainly, for a pillow.

Then next morning, when you wake up, your bucket is back. Your meal of water and rice is waiting for you. Keigo didn’t even let you see him, this time…

--

You carefully pluck a single cold grain of rice from your bowl and line it up against the wall with the others. You wanted to keep track of time, but Keigo had ignored you when you asked for a pencil or paper or even a calendar. So you made due.  

By the time you get to 40 grains (give or take how many days it had been before you started counting) it feels wasteful. Sometimes you daydream about scooping them up and gobbling them down. 

Some mornings, you see Keigo. Some mornings, you don’t. You find yourself trying to wake up early so you can at least try to catch his attention. But even when  you do, matter what you say--a feeble good morning, a quiet question, even just saying his name--he doesn’t do more than glance at you and move on.

You really are nothing, now. You dig through your rice, but even your ritual of one-two-three-four feels hollow today.

You press your back against the wall and slowly stretch our your knees. They’re always sore, but stretching helps. And it gives you something to do. You make a slow game of bringing one knee to your stomach, stretching it back down, and repeating with the other. One, two, three, four...

Evening seems to come quicker than usual today. Doing nothing feels exhausting, and you’re glad that you will at least fall asleep quickly.

You push your tray closer to the door (Maybe he’ll come in while you sleep, and you don’t want to make him have to come too far inside) and decide to get ready for bed. Your bedtime ritual is much simpler than it was when you were living in the rest of the house. Then, Keigo would insist on showering with you and brushing your hair and helping you get into pajamas and--other things, too. The bed was soft and you smelled so nice and after everything, Keigo would hold you until you fell asleep.

Now you don’t have a shower or a brush or pajamas, or anything but yourself, so you dip your fingers into a thin film of water that remains in  your cup and scrub them around your face. Then you smooth down your hair and curl up on your side. The concrete is hard and cold, but it’s all you have. When you pull your shirt down over your knees, it almost feels like a nightgown. As long as you close your eyes. You cradle your knees with your arms and try to ignore how thin and frail they feel.

Everything about you, in fact, feels thin and frail. You miss food. You miss the bed. You miss nightgowns and books and the kitchen. You miss--you miss him. The realization makes your stomach twist, or maybe that’s the hunger, and in any case you suppress the notion down. Can’t afford to throw up, when you are barely getting fed. You go to sleep with tears rolling on your cheeks, cleaning away more grime than your fingers ever could.

You’re asleep, dreaming lightly and dimly, when you hear the locks begin their song. Click, click, click, click.

You lick your chapped lips and sit up, too quickly, and the light from the room behind him makes Keigo’s silhouette all the starker as you fight mild dizziness. He has your bucket in his left hand.

You can see him flinch, just slightly, when he realizes you’re awake. He sets the bucket down. 

He stares at you. You stare at him. 

“K..Keigo,” you say. Your voice feels like a croak. His face turns impassive again. Oh, oh no, you think. It’s another morning of Keigo coming and going and leaving you all alone with nothing but concrete and rice and the wretched hollowness inside.

Without warning, you begin to cry. Full, heaving sobs wrack your body as you begin to spill out words in between helpless cries that come from deep within your chest.

“I’m sorry--I’m sorry.” You can no longer see, tears stinging and painful.  Your shoulders ache from the wrenching of your sobs. “I didn’t mean it, please don’t leave me alone anymore. I miss food, I miss the house, I miss---” You look up at him, and his eyes widen in shock as you whisper hoarsely: “I miss you, Keigo.”

In an instant, he’s swooped down to cradle you in his arms. He’s so warm. He smells like sweat and smoke. You bury your head against his shoulder and continue to weep. Your frail hands cling to his jacket so tightly that your skin begins to hurt--you don’t want him to go away.

“I missed you too, (Y/N).” His voice is so soft and gentle and you can’t remember why you hated it so much. “C’mon,” he says, gently leading you out of the room and back into the warm light of the house. Your knees ache with the freedom of standing. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.” 

[thefanficmonster]

You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved. 

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it. 

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“ 

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me. 

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.  

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free. 

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

 Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 1.

Read the prologue here

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 16th May 2021

Word count: 3 727

Warnings: mentions of trauma (nothing descriptive)

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi--kpop--fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @kimcarinaa

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you're shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Prologue)

Chap. 1.

Living in a small apartment close to the city center was not always convenient.

You regretted you couldn’t buy all the pretty things that you saw in stores or on Pinterest, because they’d easily overwhelm the limited space. Your neighbors constantly reminded you that they’re a few meters away from you, with screams, children’s cries, music, or chopping meat at 2 AM if that’s what a particular neighbor decided to do.

Fortunately, as the time passed, you got used to most of it and started to appreciate the small space, almost effortless to keep clean, close to both your university and the workplace, and the city center – an area that was always restless during the long days and nights that you spent watching it through your tall window, as if waiting for someone to look back at you.

Despite the comfort of living alone that you tried to indulge in, you couldn’t help growing lonelier and lonelier with every passing day. At the very least, your job and university often took the worries off your mind, and they eventually became your whole life, an existence that focused on never-ending effort in the name of better future, as though there was nothing in the present worth fighting for.

You studied finance; you didn’t give it much hope at first, but it ended up becoming interesting as you started connecting the dots and realizing how broad and important this topic was. Yet, as any newborn financier, you used your secret knowledge in the mysterious field of retail. In other words, you worked part-time as a cashier in a convenience store. Twenty four years old, on your way to getting that famous Master’s degree, already more than halfway through the process, yet – education without experience mattered nothing, as you realized the very moment you started looking for your first job, unable to keep counting on your parents. Not like you wanted to stay in touch with them, anyway.

Adulthood was difficult; the small apartment, due to its location, costed more than your whole family’s used to in your hometown. A small scholarship kept you set up with electricity and water fees, but for WiFi you needed to depend on a close-by library with a good signal; it turned out to have the connection good enough to reach from at least one place in your apartment, the one you coincidentally used for occasional observations. You weren’t sure whether you discovered the WiFi while sitting or if you developed the observing habit upon having to spend your time there over any other place. The only downside of this solution was that some sites were blocked after a scandal over men in the library performing actions other than polite studying, with the help of library computers. The event was outrageous to some, but primarily it became an object of jokes and memes all thorough the city, and maybe even country-wide to some extent. Either way, in times of need, your phone still had its meager data transfer. Good enough.

It was Saturday now; Saturdays were good but busy, because you worked at nights, then slept the shift off, and after you woke up, you could go and study all that you missed throughout the week, if for any reason the classes didn’t sound appealing enough or something else happened, distracting you from them. You spent Saturday afternoons either by the window of your room (where the WiFi reached) or just went straight to the library – a place way more spacious than your own apartment, and quieter as well. The only issue was, that you couldn’t snack in there and you ought to stay quiet. You decided to go with the latter and set foot towards the library.

Therefore, when your phone suddenly rang there, a few faces snapped towards you in obvious disapproval; you cursed internally, before you even managed to pull the phone out of your pocket, because you panicked so much that your hands shook at the initial attempt to do so. You got up from your seat and quickly disappeared between the bookshelves, where the people staying by the tables wouldn’t hear you so well anymore.

“Hello?” you whispered into the phone.

“Hello. Am I disturbing you?”

Your heart dropped as you recognized the voice, although you weren’t completely certain if you recognized it well, it sounded a bit different through the phone. The number was unknown on your phone, but there was only one person that could be calling you today.

You took a few seconds to compose yourself; less than you actually needed, but just enough so that the silence would not turn awkward.

“Um… I can’t talk loudly, but that’s okay.”

“I can call you later.”

“N-no need to, I’ll just whisper.”

“Okay, then.” He was quiet for a few seconds, but you heard some shuffling on the other side. “Do you have time tonight?”

The question was sudden, so you weren’t completely sure, if you did. But your mind felt too empty to figure that out, anyway.

“No. I mean, yes. Sorry, I meant I don’t have plans. So, um, yes, I’m free.” This didn’t sound professional at all. However, you heard quiet laughter on the other side and exhaled almost audibly in relief; it was the first time you heard him laugh with you, and it served to calm your nerves like a wave of calmness coming over you.

“Well, do you want to meet? I’m going to a museum and I don’t feel like going alone. What about that?”

“A museum? That… sounds nice.” When was the last time you’ve been to one? What a perfect opportunity to make a fool out of yourself. “What time?”

“Around six? If that’s okay with you.” If you remembered well, it had to be around three now.

“Sounds alright, where should we meet?”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Okay. Thank you.” What were you exactly thanking him for? Hard to tell. But you heard him laugh again; you felt like he’s mocking you, but you quickly realized it couldn’t be the case – a warm voice like this couldn’t be ill-intended.

“Sure thing, you’re welcome. We’re set up, then?”

“A-actually, I have a question, if it’s not a problem.” You bit on your lip, knowing than in less than ten seconds, you were going to probably embarrass yourself in front of an educated and serious adult.

“What’s the matter?” he asked politely.

“So, um… What should I wear?”

* * *

You were grateful for the few tips given by Byun Baekhyun at the end of your conversation, because otherwise you’d either be underdressed or overdressed. You ended up wearing a more elegant university attire, something you usually wore for exams, but which didn’t make you appear too formal; a long, woolen skirt that was your private treasure due to its ability to keep you warm even in winter (and it was still spring; the weather was questionable), as well as leather shoes, a beige shirt and a thick, knitted cardigan. You felt quite modest; something told you that it wasn’t a regular date. You didn’t feel a need to reveal anything, or to focus on your feminine attributes. You just felt like it wouldn’t serve any purpose. As long as Baekhyun was concerned, you had an impression that he’s more interested in your mind than in the way you look – the clothes you wore last time, just a little bit revealing and suggestive, had done nothing to save you. You wanted only to look appropriate, and you were sure you managed to achieve at least that.

As you found out soon enough, he wasn’t particularly dressed up, either. A button-up shirt without without a tie – bow or neck type – and jeans, made of high-quality denim, not like the ripped through or worn out ones people sometimes wore. And a suede coat. Although he wasn’t dressed up to look attractive, it would be difficult not to feel attracted to him. Byun Baekhyun had his own aura of independence and considerate distance connected with subtle proximity, and this time, you had the chance to appreciate this harmony, working perfectly for him, highlighting his soft masculinity. Even more so, when you noted a small, gentle smile that appeared on his lips when he spotted you leaving your apartment block.

“Hi there” he spoke.

“Hi there” you replied.

“The museum is nearby, so I didn’t take the car, is that okay?”

It was probably too late to change the means of transport anyway, so the question was pointless. But no, you didn’t mind.

“It’s okay. What museum are we going to?”

He put hands in the pockets of his coat and tilted his head to the side, observing as you approached. You crossed your hands over your chest; it was a bit colder than you expected, and the skirt only warmed you up at the bottom, the wind still reached the top.

“You should put on something warmer. It’ll get even colder on the way back” he spoke. “Go back and get yourself a jacket, I’ll wait.”

You wanted to oppose and say it’s alright, but you didn’t; it didn’t feel right to argue with him. You only nodded and went home to retrieve a better outwear; you were back in no time.

“So? Which museum?”

You looked up at Baekhyun: the man walked by your side, or – in fact – you were walking by his; he stayed in control of the situation, but resonated with warmth and peacefulness rather than the coldness and stillness you experienced last time. And especially as he spoke, you found yourself easing into the conversation more naturally, and your initial fear quickly turned into innocent shyness upon the older man’s presence.

“A complex of museums nearby. There’s everything there, a historical museum of the region, one about the history of mining worldwide, and an art museum. I wanted to see the last one, I heard they unveiled a few new pieces since the the last time I went. You’re not local?” He glanced at you with polite curiosity.

“Not really. I moved here to study” you explained. “I know the nearby area, but I’m not too… um, social. I only know where to do the cheapest groceries and where they sell the best bread.”

“Where?”

“Behind the river, by the intersection with the highway. It looks small but really, you should try it out. Especially their cinnamon rolls.”

Baekhyun hummed.

“That sounds nice. I can recommend the best pizza in return.”

“You eat takeouts often?”

“Yep.”

“You’d save money if you cooked for yourself. Pizzas are expensive.”

Another warm laugh reached your ears, and through them, your heart as well.

“I’ll save money if I spend the time for cooking on working instead.”

“Okay, that’s a valid point. But homemade food is healthier.”

“Depends on where you buy your takeout.” He seemed to have an answer to your every doubt. “I wouldn’t trust just any restaurant, you know? It’s basically what my diet consists of.”

“Variety is also important. Don’t argue with me on that.”

“I won’t. But I won’t take you for a pizza, if that’s your stance on that.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want it” you remarked right away; he replied with laugh, which you found yourself copying naturally.

The conversation flowed smoothly, reaching more or less unimportant topics: the city life, current events, your university, possible career, Baekhyun’s interests – you found out he likes music; it’s too sad to work in silence – and the museum you were going to.

The place you felt initially quite neutral about, brought you more peace than you expected it to. It looked harmonious and the lights were soft. No one hurried through the gallery, and the paintings, although not so interesting at first, you soon learned to appreciate, trying to catch onto small details that, you could tell, Baekhyun already knew by heart, but he smiled every single time you pointed at something specific that caught your attention, even if it was as silly as matching colors, or realistically portrayed lights – these were your favorites.

And, slowly but surely, you got accustomed to the pretty sights, excitement turning into relaxation, and even Baekhyun himself seemed more content than you thought he’d be in your presence.

“You’re different,” you spoke as the two of you sat on a bench in front of one of the tall, monumental pieces; this one was a modern painting full of splashes and mixed colors, soft browns, yellows, and greens, so big that it definitely wouldn’t fit in your bedroom – the first thought you had upon seeing its size.

Despite the painting being in the very center of the gallery, you were the only ones watching it now.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re different today than you were yesterday” you elaborate. “Less… intimidating” you tried to put your thoughts into words.

Baekhyun laughed in response; the laughter was soft and warm, which made you exhale in relief – you feared that he’d feel offended at the remark.

“Yesterday was different. I needed to test you.”

“What do you mean?”

He stared at the painting as he leaned forward, resting elbows on his knees and shifting a little bit, probably thinking how to say the thing he had to say, without causing misunderstandings. You stared at him, completely having lost interest in the painting by now, ready to hear out whatever was to be spoken.

“People often come to me because they’re attracted to me. Well, not blaming them” he grinned; you rolled your eyes a little, but it did relieve the tension, most likely according to his own intention. “However, I’m not interested in romantic relationships. If you come to me expecting a date, you’ll get disappointed. And you won’t be able to handle what it is truly about, if I’m the only thing keeping you interested. It’ll be a hassle for the both of us.”

He glanced at you only briefly, ensuring that you’ve heard him so far before shifting his eyes back forward.

“So I’m always like this at first, just to see how determined you are, and how you behave under pressure. Then I leave you for a few minutes so you have the time to reconsider and leave if willing. That’s a safety measure for you.” He stopped for just a few seconds. “And you – all of you – always check what’s on the other side of the sheet. That’s a safety measure for me.”

“Safety measure?”

“Trust is the basis of the whole deal. If you don’t admit, that you looked at it, it means you’ll keep hiding things later on as well, and I can’t have that.”

“So if I…”

“Yes. If you didn’t correct your statement, we wouldn’t be here right now.” The words sounded ominous even despite the calm tone that Baekhyun used.

“I understand.”

You actually did; the strange aura of yesterday’s meeting finally started to clear out, leaving the simplest facts that all fit into the bigger picture. Yet, you still didn’t know enough. There were more things, more questions, each of which demanded an answer of its own. However, you were still unsure of your stance, and of what Baekhyun had planned for you – for the both of you.

“Will you accept me, then?” you asked finally, breaking through the silence.

“I don’t know yet” he replied in an honest tone, finally reciprocating your gaze. His features were soft, you could tell, he tried not to hurt you with his words. “You’re a nice girl, but I’m not sure if it’ll work out. I need more time. Primarily, I need to get to know you better. And I feel like you need more time, too.”

You nodded slowly.

“Could you, um… tell me more about it?”

“About what I do?”

“Yeah. You didn’t tell me much last time. You mostly only asked questions.”

“True. I may answer some of yours, if you’d like. What are you interested in?”

You cleared your throat; some questions seemed more intrusive than the others and you preferred to leave them for later.

“What would you want to do with me, if we set up a um… a scene?” Is that how you professionally call it? You didn’t remember all that well; you were, in fact, with no experience, only the Internet and your own curiosity to lead you forward – the temptation to explore your interests had been progressing in silence up until now.

“Well, depends on what would be suitable. I do different things with different people. Sometimes, it’s about what they like, and sometimes about what I like, and, the most often, it’s about what we both like. Everyone needs a different approach. I enjoy finding the right approach, and exploring it. It’s different when you start with a virgin, different when you start with a brat, different when you start with someone experienced, different when you start with someone with trauma. The last type is a person I don’t like engaging in. It’s a vulnerable ground and the person often seeks relief instead of therapy. I’m not a therapist. I’m a dominant.”

You took your time to analyze his words and put them all together in your head before you spoke again.

“You wrote something like that on the sheet. That I may have trauma.”

“That’s different,” Baekhyun was quick to elaborate. “Everyone has trauma of sort. Childhood traumas are more common than you think. I meant specifically trauma that comes from similar ground as the one I’m on. It’s not the case for you. According to what you said, you’ve never had any experiences like this and never engaged sexually or romantically.”

Pointing that out hurt a little; yes, so what if you’re 24 years old and a virgin? You had the right to choose your pace. But, you quickly realized, it was your own insecurity poking at you, because Baekhyun sounded anything but judgmental. He didn’t seem particularly impressed either – and you were thankful for that as well. You’ve seen enough men sounding excited when a woman was discovered to be unexperienced. You hated that even more than those who made fun of you; and in the long run, you just learned not to overshare. Telling Baekhyun this truth wasn’t the easiest, so having him say it so casually was definitely weird in your ear.

“However, that’s also a vulnerable point. You don’t know what you’re getting into. It looks different on the screen or in the books than it is in real life. I’m not going to reject you just because you’re new, because everyone’s been at some point. But you must understand, it’s a responsibility, and I don’t want to take one I’m not capable of handling.”

“Have you ever been with someone else like that?”

“With a virgin?”

“…Yeah.”

“Yes. Once. But I didn’t handle it too well back then.”

“What do you mean?”

Baekhyun rubbed his chin, pressing his lips together in slight uneasiness. But you didn’t revoke your question – maybe you should have, for the sake of his comfort, but you felt that the answer wouldn’t be meaningless to you.

“She wanted to be exclusive,” the man finally answered. “I tolerated her for too long. I should have broken the deal as soon as I started seeing red flags, instead of ending up sleeping with her. It made everything only worse.” He spoke quietly, making sure people passing by at times would hear no word. You heard everything clearly, though. “That’s why I’m more picky now. Breaking the deal is not a good thing if it comes from one side. It may leave the other devastated, that’s why I’d rather reduce the risk in advance.”

He looked at your face, seeking understanding and acceptance. You nodded slowly, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible. You didn’t want to add to the pain already displayed on his own. But you appreciated his transparency.

“Does it mean that sex is not always involved?”

“With me, it rarely is” he admitted patiently. “I’m not against it, but I usually do other things. People rarely expect it, and I never pry. Mainly, because in this particular case, I do expect exclusivity. So, as long as no sex is involved, I know some of my subs are dating other people, or even engaging with other doms. However, for safety reasons I demand health checks prior to intercourse, and so on. Not just for me, but because I’m not exclusive myself.” You wondered if his choice of vocabulary was meant to make things less awkward. “However, actual sex is only one of the possibilities. Sexual pleasure that doesn’t involve direct touch may be used as a tool for training, for rewarding and for punishing, even as entertainment… not necessarily to the person it influences. As I said, it depends on who it’s done with. And it may take different forms, too. What’s your stance on that?”

“I don’t feel like I’d be able to as much as undress in front of someone who’s not my doctor” you answered almost instantly, the answer obvious to you, a matter you’ve thought about enough. “Although… well, I suppose it takes time. I’m not against the idea, just… you know.”

Baekhyun only nodded; you glanced at him, feeling a need for any reply that’d soothe you a little.

“I understand. That’s okay.”

You figured it out now; using more formal language made it less embarrassing to listen to. It’s like he tore the words off emotions and left facts only, and you found yourself easing into saying more and more, your embarrassment dissolving as well. No judgments were made.

“Is there anything else you want to know?”

“A lot, to be honest. But I think I know enough for now.”

Right as you said the last words, a sound echoed in the museum, in a soft female voice saying that the museum will close in fifteen minutes.

You took one last glance at the huge painting in front of you, but you felt like, at this point, you wouldn’t find anything new among the random stains and splatters. Baekhyun got up from his seat on the bench and so did you. You spotted him hide a small yawn behind his hand.

The day was coming to an end, and so was your small date – as un-date-ish as it could be.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: hope you're enjoying it so far! Trying to give it a bit sense before more things happen, and, hopefully, this chapter clears it out a little bit. Feel free to talk to me if anything is unclear!

Next (Chapter 2.)

[your-brilliant-lady-m]

Part 5 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Guardians

Helloooo! Did you think I was done? No!

My PhD thesis chapters were approved last week, so have some celebratory meta. I haven't seen the latest Season 4 episodes, so do forgive me for not being up to date.

Welcome to the next part of my analysis of the basic concepts of Miraculous Ladybug. Today we are talking about Master Fu, Order of the Guardians and how little everything here makes sense. I highly recommend reading previous parts to fully understand this one, but I'll try to quote most parts of earlier posts.

Order of the Guardians

Order is an international and ancient organisation (New York Special showed us the guardian from North America and he was dressed like Su Han). Presumably, Miraculous jewels were created by these people. Guardians are responsible for the preservation of jewels and knowledge about them. They also distribute Miraculouses to worthy people around the world to combat mostly magical threats, but sometimes jewels are used against normal threats too. It's implied that Master Fu used Miraculouses during WW2 when he was in Paris. Perhaps he performed some spywork with Marianne, but the magical nature of his interferences was discovered and he was forced to flee, before returning to France many decades later.

Why does the Order need so many people to take care of a 3 Miracle Boxes? If its only purpose is to preserve knowledge, keep magical secrets and distribute Miraculous jewels then wouldn't it be more logical to have Master-Apprentice system? It's much easier to keep magic knowledge a secret and train a few people in martial arts than doing the same in the self-sufficient temple full of people, keeping in mind that a good part of them are teenagers and children, who are bad at keeping secrets. Also a single person can travel around the world much easier to give out Miraculouses. Imagine that we have a few active guardians traveling the world with Boxes. What do other people at the temple do in the meantime? They teach the next generation about the powers of each Miraculous and Mirakung Fu, but besides that?

Master-Apprentice system gives us more personal conflict between Fu and his mentor and makes his relationship with Marinette and Adrien more nuanced. In this scenario Fu accidentally caused the death of his Master at 14 because he wasn't careful. It makes sense for him to take on only 1 or 2 students if this is how things were done with Miraculous Guardians. This Wang Fu is very cautious and protective, he spent the majority of his life afraid of hurting someone else and never took an apprentice as a result. But now he is ready to try again, since he is not getting any younger and he likes these 2 kids. He wants them to succeed. Maybe Master Fu, becomes the father figure for Adrien in this situation and a guide for Marinette. Just think about it. This way writers avoid the need to develop all these extra characters (Su Han) and traditions related to the Order. All inconsistencies I mentioned before and later in this post are gone now! Hell, even memory loss and the changing of the Miracle Box shape could make more sense. We also raise the stakes post-amnesia, if it happens of course (the whole Season 3 finale didn't make sense, so stay tuned for my next meta). Marinette and Adrien are on their own now, there's no one who can give them answers. It's very fun scenario, which has potential to be brilliant. Any thoughts on that?

The existence of Order of the Guardians is not quite a secret, at least it wasn't in XIX century China. Master Fu in "Feast" says that guardianship was considered "a great honor". It implies that people who lived close to the temple of the Order knew about Miraculouses and what exactly guardians did for the greater good.

The existence of other Miracle Boxes around the world makes sense from a real-life perspective. Writers have the ability to create many stories set in the same universe and use them for merchandise and an almost unlimited amount of content. Judging by the unholy amount of specials in production, this is exactly what the creators are going to do. It probably won't go down well, but who knows?

However, it doesn't work in our main story. The main conflict is Paris-centred. Gabriel's motivations revolve around Emilie's resurrection and Season 4 gives us more reasons to suspect that Adrien's mom wasn't as wonderful as everyone says. Hawkmoth still remains the main villain of the show and most likely it's going to stay that way. There's no point in moving the main story to different places for the sake of introducing more Miracle Boxes from around the world. Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't needed to fight something halfway across the world unless Hawkmoth also changes locations.

LB and CN are centrepieces of this franchise. They brought success and money to ZAG. Creators constantly need to remind the audience that this new piece of media with new characters who will never be mentioned again is connected to Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Writers have to come up with reasons to include our heroic duo into the story even if makes no sense.

New York Special had to introduce American Heroes whose names rarely come up in the fandom because people stopped caring about them or their stories shortly after the release of the Special. I barely saw any content dedicated to them. In order to bring LB and CN into the story, you have to include Hawkmoth too. Gabriel suddenly needs to get his hands on the Eagle Miraculous and goes to USA. Marinette and Adrien suddenly have a class trip to New York. Unfortunately, their presence in this story is required only to expand the world of Miraculous and attract fans of the show, so that they could keep an eye on new content related to newly introduced characters.

In the end, it's not their story. Events of the special don't affect main story of the show and the development of the love square is merely an illusion, because Adrien and Marinette are no closer than before. In season 4 LB and CN are growing apart and their test of trust in NY Special doesn't matter. Perhaps, some people don't see it that way and it's their right, but I find it hard to see NYS as a valid contribution to canon. I mean, even people in large portion of the fandom state in the tags on AO3 that "specials are not canon", "specials didn't happen" or "ignores both specials". It speaks volumes about continuity and preferences of your fandom.

Shanghai Special didn't give us more information about the Order, which is located in China, history of Miraculous jewels. We still don't know much about how Gabriel and Emilie found Peacock and Butterfly. Maybe, Marinette's family had connections to Miraculous jewels. Maybe, Adrien does some snooping and discovers research his parents made while Gabriel is away. All of these are relevant to the main story. However, we got something much different in the end.

Marinette chases Adrien across the globe and they make new friends. Fey becomes Ladydragon and now has a direct contact with Marinette through her uncle. Gabriel's desire to get his hands on the Prodigious comes out of nowhere. Apparently, he had been planning this trip for years, presumably even before Adrien was born. It probably happened at the same time as Agrestes found 2 Miraculouses. He bought bracelet-key (which is also a Miraculous apparently, but its Kwami is a Guardian of the Prodigious and they existed separately for a very long time - and let us not dwell on this mess) from some shady mafia boss, who can easily find out just who Gabriel really is (fashion designer billionaire) and use this information to blackmail him. This Special didn't answer important questions, but it gave us a new superhero character.

The real question is whether Miraculous as a project will survive long enough for writers to create content for every minor character they introduced in all specials. This is only a beginning after all.

Miraculous is not a global show and it can't be globalised in a way that makes sense, at least with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the centre of action. Case closed.

Mirakung Fu

I liked the idea of Mirakung Fu introduced in "Furious Fu". It makes sense and things rarely do in this show. Miraculous grants its holder superhuman strength, stamina, endurance and ability to fight. This means that essentially transformed heroes are guided by magic in combat. There's nothing personal in the way Miraculous holders fight. You can predict their moves and learn how to fight this magic guidance, which is what Su Han does.

However, if the holder has any special training, skills or knows any martial art in their civilian life then they become more dangerous opponents during transformation because now their fighting is a mix of magical moves and their personal knowledge, tricks and style. Therefore, Adrien and Kagami as skilful fencers have more chances of winning against someone who knows Mirakung Fu than Marinette, for example.

Memory loss

At the end of season 3, we find out several things:

apparently, now Miracle Box can change appearance to suit its guardian;

when Guardian passes down the Miracle Box to someone else, they lose memories not only about everything related to Miraculous, but also about pretty much everything in their life (Fu doesn't recognise Marianne, instead he experiences the love at first sight)

Master Fu trains Marinette to be the proper holder and next Guardian off-screen. He says that her training as the holder is complete in "Feast" and wants her to become the next Guardian. Fu told her lots of things, and yet, he never mentioned the fact that he would lose his memory after relinquishing the box, nor the fact that Marinette would lose her memory afterwards. She finds out about this from Wayzz after the battle with Miracle Queen and the letter that Master Fu gave her. That's not proper training! How on Earth do you forget to mention this memory loss? How?

Master Fu's amnesia is a convenient plot device that removes him from the narrative almost completely. That's mostly all there is to it. Why? Because it doesn't make sense.

Fu was around 7 or 8 when he started his training. The disaster at the temple happened when he was 14. He stated that his training was never complete, which means that he never passed any magical ritual, never swore an oath or was bound by some kind of spell that made him subjected to the rule of memory loss.

Miracle Boxes belonged to the order, not Fu. Their design reflected their country of origin because these Miraculous were made and kept in China. They were just standing there on the shelves not magically bound to anyone in particular. When Feast attacked, monks just tossed Wang Fu the miracle box and grimoire. No one at the temple lost their memory after Fu took the box with him (Su Han is the proof). Su Han not only remembers Fu and his mistake but everything that happened that fateful day as well. In "Furious Fu" Marinette explains Su Han that Master Fu lost his memory in the very first conversation they have. However, after Ladybug and Chat Noir fight Su Han on the roof and escape with the Miracle Box, the latter searches for Fu and attempts to take his staff from him. In this scene, Su Han acts like Fu knows very well what is going on and who he is.

Su Han should be aware of the memory loss rule as the Celestial Guardian. He remarks on the different shape of the Mother Miracle Box and calls her "incorrect", which means that Su Han should have been able to easily tell that previous Guardian lost his memory and the Miracle Box is now bound to someone else. But he doesn't say anything. Moreover, since Su Han is supposed to know about amnesia, he seemed awfully chill about forcing this 14-year-old girl in front of him to give up the box and her memories. Hell, Chat Noir wasn't on board with this. But we get zero reaction from Su Han.

During the first conversation between Marinette and Su Han, he doesn't ignore what she is trying to say, instead he actively comments on every word. Even if Su Han didn't listen when Marinette told him about Fu's memory loss, than he still should be able to understand that Fu doesn't recognise him, because of common sense and the "incorrect" shape of the box. But nothing of the sort happens. Because writers apparently forgot that "memory loss" is supposed to be known to everyone in the Order. On-screen it looks like Su Han is not aware of the "amnesia rule".

"Furious Fu" makes the concept of memory loss a plothole no matter how you look at it. Just like "Timetagger" and "Chat Blanc", as well as "Kwamibuster" this episode is not consistent within itself. It does not surprise me, however.

Grimoire and Guardian Staffs

Let's talk about the Miraculous Grimoire. Good things first.

There are no illustrations of Miraculouses in camouflage. Kwami can't read its contents, only guardians can. Certain elements are written in riddles as an additional precaution. The book contains only the information people have learned so far, which means that Miraculouses have more unexplored potential ("Mr. Pigeon 72"). It describes powers of each Miraculous, provides information about weapons, has instructions for potions that don't make sense (see previous parts).

Unfortunately, everything is about to go downhill from here.

Guardians are taught how to read the writing in this book. They can read it just like people learn to read texts in a different language. This means that one can read Grimoire like any other book (you don't need to consult some guide to decode each letter or word). Master Fu proclaimed Marinette an almost fully trained Guardian. He should have taught her how to read the Grimoire then (he doesn't know the code very well, but he knew enough to understand the general meaning and content of the book according to "Collector"). He didn't. We don't know why. He shows her powers of every Miraculous but doesn't teach her the code.

Master Fu knows that Grimoire now belongs to Gabriel Agreste. He knows that it's dangerous for someone else to have it. If they knew how to read the Grimoire, they could discover all secrets of Miraculouses and harm Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes. It's very important to keep the information about the code top secret because Fu is not the only one with the source material.

What does he do then? Master Fu proceeds to write a French translation of Grimoire for Marinette, a translation that he doesn't even need. He carries it with him at all times on a tablet (without any precautions) just like the Miracle box after "Feast". Naturally, it means that in "Miracle Queen", Gabriel and Nathalie easily managed to get their hands on the tablet and Miracle Box. It allows the plot to happen, sure. But it doesn't make any sense.

"Furious Fu" created another curious plot hole. It will probably be ignored, of course. Su Han has a staff with a magical compass that allows him to find any Miracle box, but not the Miraculous jewels for some reason. How does the staff work? Can it locate the box without the Miraculous? If yes, then it seems useless. What's the point in the ability to locate an empty box? If it can locate the box only with the Miraculous jewels inside, it implies that the staff can track the location of every Miraculous too. So, Su Han could just locate the Butterfly and Peacock without any problem. But he talks about reassigning Ladybug and Black Cat to adults and defeating Hawkmoth like locating the Butterfly is not possible. This situation makes the Guardian Staff a simple plot device that creates plot holes and its only purpose is to explain how Su Han found Marinette.

Also, I have a few more words to say about this. Master Fu had a Guardian Staff that was never mentioned before. I wonder why? That's because the staff didn't exist before "Furious Fu" was written. Writers just went: "Do you know what would be cool? If Fu's cane was really a secret Guardian Staff with a compass all along that he decided to keep even after he lost his memory? It would make people wonder whether Master Fu is faking amnesia, and everyone will definitely call him an awful mentor after this even though we kind of tried to make him a good and responsible person."

Fu didn't give it to Marinette and didn't mention it to her. Why? When he gave up his memory, he should have written about this in his letter at least. Why did he decide to keep it? He can't use it anyway now.

Please note how in the flashbacks Fu didn't take any staff with him when he escaped the temple. Su Han seemed to know how Fu's staff looked like. It means that Master Fu didn't make this staff himself, because it belonged to the Order.

Su Han wasn't even surprised that Marinette didn't have the staff as the current Guardian. Was she not supposed to have it? He never questioned the fact that the former Guardian without memories has the staff. Su Han actually returns this staff to Fu after he is deakumatized and Fu acts like they have never met before. Why did Su Han gave the staff back when he knows what it is and to whom it should belong (to him or to Marinette as the current Guardian)? The staff is useless in the hands of the civilian. Does Marianne know about its secret? We'll probably never find out, unfortunately.

Guardian Staff of Master Fu has a compass too and therefore this also makes it a plot device, just like Su Han's staff.

[imagine-loki]

What About Trust, Chapter 2

TITLE: What About Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki owns a bookshop on Midgard. He had to do something there to try and avoid getting any attention. But he’s not fond of having customers, is rather grumpy and guarded. But then he meets a bright, bubbly and trusting young woman who doesn’t recognise him. To his dismay, he finds himself becoming rather fond of the mortal.  RATING: M

Loki was upstairs in his book shop, using his magic to re-organise all his books.

There had been a few customers in earlier, they made a mess by not placing books back in their rightful place. His presence had made it rather clear that they were not welcome. So they soon scarpered out.

If he didn’t have to keep up pretences by doing something of a job here on Midgard, he would just barricade the door shut and hide himself away in his little shop and apartment through the back.

He was just finishing when he heard the little bell ringing at the front. Grunting in annoyance, he quickly dropped his magic and rushed forward to the bannister to see who was coming in now.

A familiar face beamed up at him.

‘Hey, Luke! I finished the book you gave me, oh my god it was so good.’ Cleo said as she waved up at him.

The smallest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips for a split second as he descended the stairs at a leisurely pace. ‘You can’t have finished it already? It’s barely been forty-eight hours.’ He drawled.

‘You bet I’ve finished it. Wednesdays are usually really quiet at work anyway, so I was able to get in a lot of reading. And I have plenty of time in the evenings. I couldn’t put it down, it was fascinating.’ She grinned.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her enthusiasm and folded his arms over his chest as he stood on front of her. ‘Did you come back here just to tell me that?’

‘No. I’ve come to read more of your books. And to annoy you.’ She chirped and went to fish out the Shakespeare play she had looked at the other day.

He rolled his eyes and followed her carefully, watching in amusement as she looked for it. He had done some rearranging downstairs too earlier. Now the book she sought was on the top shelf. And she let out a huff when she noticed it up there.

Turning around, it was her turn to fold her arms over her chest. ‘Did you move it up there on purpose?’

Loki looked innocent and put his hands out to the side. ‘Do you really think I would re-arrange my entire shop, to get one book on the highest shelf, just to annoy you?’

She narrowed her eyes at him.

‘Because you would be absolutely right.’ He chuckled and moved next to her, reaching up he grabbed the book easily and started to bring it down towards her, but then he stopped just out of her reach.

‘When you’re finished with it, you’ll come look for me to place it back. I don’t just want it randomly squeezed in where it shouldn’t be.’ He said firmly.

‘Did I mess up your shop the last time I was in?’

Loki regarded her carefully for a moment. ‘No. I suppose you didn’t.’ He mumbled and gave her the book.

‘Thanking you.’ She grinned and headed for his chair.

He would be lying if he said the mortal didn’t pique his curiosity. He’d never really taken proper notice before of the mortals, thinking them below him and that was it. But as he stood and really looked at Cleo, he was finding himself noticing a lot of rather attracting features.

Shaking his head, he tried to ignore where that train of thought was going and he went back upstairs to finish off sorting his books. But he had to be careful and do some of it manually, in-case Cleo came up and saw him using his powers.

He wasn’t too fussed about mortals seeing his powers, if they knew of him in the first place. Usually, it was easy to tell when someone recognised him, as they mostly ran out of the place at speed. But it was rare, since the incident happened in New York. He discovered that many in the UK didn’t believe in aliens and superheroes, and thought America was making it all up. Which suited him just fine. He didn’t exactly want hordes of people flocking to his shop.

Just over an hour passed, Loki hadn’t heard anything from Cleo downstairs. He started to wonder if she was even still there. Though he never heard the bell at the door, there was no way she could’ve sneaked out on him.

But when he went downstairs, he found she was still there. Completely hooked on the Shakespeare play. Deciding not to disturb her, he went through the back to leave her in peace for a while longer. He knew himself how annoying it was to be disturbed when you were engrossed in a book or play.

-

When Cleo finished the play, she realised she had completely lost track of time. She looked around, but there was no sign of Loki. So she went upstairs and attempted to put the book back where it belonged.

But there was one little problem. She couldn’t reach the shelf, no matter how hard she tried. She looked around but couldn’t find steps or anything to use either.

‘God dammit.’ She went back downstairs to try and find something to use. Of course, there was plenty of books she could’ve made a step with, but she wasn’t going to risk ruining any of them.

Then an idea crossed her mind. She pulled some books out from some of the lower and middle shelves, making some space. She was able to use the gaps as steps and carefully climbed up the shelves, until she was halfway up and able to reach the top shelf to cautiously put the Shakespeare play back in its rightful place.

‘What are you doing?’ Came a voice suddenly from behind her.

She looked over her shoulder and saw Loki. ‘You were nowhere to be found, so I improvised.’

‘Climbing on my shelves is not exactly’

‘Catch me!’ She suddenly called out, interrupting him, and she jumped off the shelves towards him. Loki swiftly caught her with ease, surprised at her actions as he placed her down to her feet.

‘Are you mad?’ He looked at her with wide eyes while she put her trainers back on, she had taken them off to make sure she didn’t get any dirt on the shelves. Then she began putting the other books back in their place.

‘Probably. Aren’t we all a bit mad, though? And what’s wrong with a little trust exercise?’ She stood up straight, smiling at him.

‘Why would you trust someone you don’t know?’

She shrugged. ‘Well, why wouldn’t I? You’ve not given me a reason not to trust you yet. So why does it always have to be that you need to know someone before you can trust them. Why can’t you just trust someone until they give you a reason not to?’

Loki’s mouth parted slightly, but he was a little stunned. She had a point, in a way. But he thought her a bit foolish, at the same time. Though he did feel a tiny bit guilty too… But when it sank in more, he realised there was nothing wrong with that statement, really. Why couldn’t you trust another being straight away?

Cleo grinned smugly. ‘I can see the gears turning in your brain. I don’t often make sense, but when I do, I do.’

Loki smirked a little and squinted his eyes at her briefly. ‘You’re right, you don’t seem to make sense often.’

Cleo rolled her eyes at that, then glanced at her watch and her face dropped. ‘Oh, crap. I’m going to be late to meet my friend. Sorry, Luke. I better go. Thank you for letting me read for a while…’ She rummaged in her bag and pulled out some money, holding it out to him. ‘Here.’

‘Absolutely not necessary.’ Loki shook his head and put his hands behind him.

‘I know I’m not buying anything as it’s a bit out of my budget, but I want to support your shop.’ She pleaded.

‘Nope, if you pay me simply for enjoying one of my books in here, I would be insulted. I appreciate the gesture, but there’s no need.’ Loki said softly.

Cleo didn’t want to argue, so she huffed and put her money away. She put her bag over her shoulder again and studied Loki for a moment.

‘What?’

‘You’re rather interesting, for a book shop owner.’ She smiled.

‘Are book shop owners not normally interesting?’ He quipped.

Cleo pondered for a moment. ‘Not normally, no.’

Loki chuckled. ‘Well, you’re rather curious for a… what is it you do?’

‘I work in a record shop over on Oxford street. A friend of mine owns it.’

‘Oh really? So you’re a music lover and a book lover.’

‘Yep. The two best things in life. Both are a means of escape from the real world, which is needed sometimes. And while having books and music all on your phone can be handy, you just can’t beat physically holding a vinyl and placing it on the record player. Likewise with holding physical books.’ Cleo’s eyes were sparkling as she spoke, making Loki smile fondly.

He wondered what her home looked like. Instantly suspecting it would be filled with books and records.

‘I best let you get off to your friend. Thank you for not misplacing the book.’ He winked at her, making her laugh.

‘Yeah, I better get going. She hates it when I’m late. Thanks again, Luke.’ She headed off and as she left, she gave him a wave before disappearing out the door.

Loki slid his hands into his pockets and just stood there, staring at the door for a while. He wasn’t sure why, really. But what she said about trust really hit him. He tried shaking it off, allowing a mortal to get under his skin was not like him at all. She likely wouldn’t show her face again anyway, or would get bored of his shop soon enough…

[starshine583]

can we see damianette with v?

(Let me just say that I absolutely LOVE this concept!! I could write a whole ficlet on this one too! anyway, I hope you like the snippet as much as I did.)

Darkness. That was all Marinette had ever known. In fact, it was all a good portion of the world had ever known, and it was thanks to this little thing called Soulmates.

A long time ago, the gods decided that humans had become blind to the true purpose of love and romance. So, to remind them of this, they cursed the world with literal blindness, and the only way to nullify this curse was to touch your soulmate directly. Then, the gift of sight would be restored to both parties, and they would finally be able to see for the first time.

At first, Marinette was extremely excited to find her soulmate. After all, who wouldn’t be? The life of the seeing sounded wonderful, especially when her Maman and Papa would tell her stories of the sea and the stars. And having the love of your life, the person you’re going to be with forever, be the first thing you truly see? That sounded incredibly romantic, and she couldn’t wait to experience it. 

As the years passed, though, and more people around her found their soulmate, the excitement that had been bubbling inside her began to fade, and a quiet resignation took its place. If she hadn’t found her soulmate yet, that meant she probably wasn’t going to be one of the lucky ones who found their soulmate early. Therefore, she needed to learn to be patient, instead of tearing herself apart with anticipation. 

This revelation led to Marinette exploring her capabilities and becoming affiliated with her blindness as best she could. She could already get around fine, but she wanted to get around better than fine. She wanted to get around so well on her own that people forgot she was blind altogether. Then, perhaps, she would be able to forget too. Or at least forget that everyone but her could see. 

She had just started being able to walk without using her cane when she received a pair of strange, magical earrings. The discovery was definitely a shock, but the thought of being able to push herself to the absolute limit as a superhero intrigued her. So, she accepted the earrings and became Ladybug, savior of Paris. 

Imagine her surprise when she found out that her partner was also blind. He didn’t move around as easily as she did, but their gadgets helped them find their way well enough to fight. For example, her yo-yos would use beeping sequences to tell her when she was near something, while Chat Noir used his staff as a makeshift cane, and the akumas were normally loud enough that they didn’t have to guess their locations. 

Alya joined their school around the same time that Marinette became Ladybug, and Marinette was absolutely delighted to meet her. Not only because the new student gave Nino his sight, but also because she was able to describe the colors to Marinette in a way that she could understand. Her parents had tried to tell her about the colors before and how beautiful they were, but in the end, the descriptions always depended on sight. 

Alya, however, described them with feelings.

“Blue,” she would say, “is like dipping your hand into the pool. It’s cool and calm and sometimes sad, but it’s beautiful. It’s the color of the sky and the sea and your eyes.”

“Red is the color of heat, of anger, of blood.”

“Yellow is the color of sunshine on your skin and happiness and things that make you smile.”

“Green is the color of envy or disgust, but it’s also the color of summer’s grass.”

“Black is the color of darkness, the same thing you see now.”

Now that Marinette had at least somewhat of a shaky grasp on what colors were like, she wasn’t nearly as annoyed when Mlle Bustier decided to take the class to an art gallery during their field trip to Gotham. It was still an inconsiderate thing to do, but she had Alya to guide her if necessary and had heard about a section of the gallery that was made specifically for blind people. So she had hope that the visit wouldn’t be as awful as it sounded.

“Remember class,” her teacher called as she led everyone inside the gallery, “everyone needs to have a safety buddy at all times. Gotham is well known for its villain attacks, so stay together!”

Alya sighed next to her. “It’s not like it’s any different from our akuma attacks. Why all the fuss?”

“Well, the villains here don’t transform back once they’re caught.” Nino pointed out. “It’s kind of like a ton of Hawkmoths running around instead of akumas.”

Marinette nodded in agreement, though none of them were probably looking at her anyway.

“True, but they also have more super heroes here.” Alya argued. “Batman, Red hood, Nightwing, Robin- if a villain attacked us, they’d be surrounded in ten minutes!”

Marinette held back from commenting on that remark, but she knew from personal experience that superheroes had their own lives too. Just because a single villain showed up somewhere didn’t mean that all of the heroes in Gotham would show up at the same time to fight it, or that the villain would be any easier to take down once outnumbered.

She lightly touched Alya’s arm to get her attention. “I’m going to go find that blind section that Mlle Bustier was talking about .”

Alya paused her conversation with Nino to reply, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Would you mind?”

“Of course not! I’ll go tell Mlle Bustier where we’re going, but you can start walking now if you don’t need any help?”

“No, I can manage.” Marinette smiled. Mlle Bustier had passed out a special map of the gallery the night before that had bumps for the walls and statues and braille to tell them which rooms were what. Besides, if she could fight akumas across the Parisian rooftops on a regular basis, she could certainly find her way around an art museum.

The two separated, Alya going right to speak with Bustier, and Marinette going left to find the blind room. She idly tapped her cane on her shoulder as she walked across the hardwood floors, the echoing footsteps and hushed talk of other visitors giving her directions on which way to step and which way to avoid. Some of the voices spoke in different languages, and it caused Marinette to wonder whether the people around her were tourists like herself or locals. Probably a decent mix of both.

When she was sure that she’d found the correct room- there was a sign with braille on it that said “blind section” - she let her cane tap against the floor and began wandering around the room. The pictures inside had bumpy textures for her to run her hands across, and the statues that were open to anyone above the age of eleven were a mix of grainy and smooth, most likely made from different types of rock. It was admittedly strange tracing her hands over things that were supposed to be human bodies, but if it was the only way to observe the master pieces..

A few minutes passed of her dragging her hands over the displays when something strange happened, something that made her pause.

Footsteps and voices had been a consistent background noise from the moment she walked into the gallery, but for some reason, both of those sounds abruptly stopped in the last minute of her being there, as though everyone that had been in the room with her suddenly left. That wasn’t possible, though, because she didn’t hear anyone leave, and she couldn’t fathom why a whole group of strangers would tip-toe out of a room to avoid being detected by her. 

Before she could call out to the people who had to be around her, somebody gasped, proving that other people were, in fact, still in the room with her. Then, another person gasped, then three, and someone shrieked. 

Now Marinette was panicking. What was going on? Why were they screaming? What did they see that she couldn’t?

Where footsteps had been scarce before, there were now footsteps everywhere, along with more screams. People were running, but from what? She didn’t hear anyone else enter the gallery, nor did she hear a villainous outburst. 

Marinette strained her ears to listen for something more, something out of the ordinary that would cause people alarm, but it was hard to hear anything else over the screams. The only other thing she could catch was a strange, hissing sound. They couldn’t be running from that, though, could they? What would be making a hissing sound that had everyone bolting out of the gallery?

“Marinette!” 

Alya’s voice nearly made Marinette jump five feet in the air out of fright, but she caught herself and turned towards the direction she assumed her friend was coming from.

“Alya, what’s going on?”

Somebody grabbed her arm, and Alya’s voice spoke up again right next to her. “We need to go. There’s this weird, green gas that’s filling the gallery, and it’s causing people to.. to..”

Alya’s explanation faltered as she let out a snort, which confused Marinette. Didn’t she sound panicked a second ago? Why was she laughing now? This wasn’t a prank, was it? No, Alya would do that..

Another laugh burst from her friend’s lips. Then another. It almost sounded like she was trying to contain it, like she was laughing against her will. 

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. What did she say about the gas again? It was causing people to do something? What if it was causing them to laugh?

“A-Alya?” Marinette said, trying to remain calm as she grabbed Alya’s shoulders. If the gas was causing people to laugh, does that mean she’s inhaled it already? Was the effect going to be permanent? Was it going to be fatal? Why would someone release that type of gas into an art gallery?

“Mari-Marine-” Alya wiggled out of Marinette’s grasp and began laughing harder. Marinette tried to grab her again, but her friend fell to the floor. 

“Alya!” Marinette cried, kneeling down next to her. The girl was writhing on the floor now, cackling like she’d gone mad.

“G-Get- you need- you need to- need to go-” She said through laughs, but that was all she said. After that, Alya fell into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, and Marinette was left panicking and wondering what she should do. She could try to go get help, but she didn’t know where the gas was coming from. Even if she did, she had no way of knowing who might be waiting for her outside. The gas might be a way to push herself and the other civilians out onto the street. 

Marinette stumbled to her feet and took a moment to listen to her surroundings again. She could still hear screams, but they were more towards the back of the gallery, while laughter could be heard towards the front. That meant the gas must have come through the front entrance. Was that the hissing sound she’d heard earlier?

Just as she was about to call out Tikki to give her a visual on the gallery, another sound reached her ears. This time it was a clicking, similar to that of metal being hooked onto something, and it came from above her. Was someone on the ceiling? What would they be doing up there? How would they get up there in the first place?

A whizzing sound followed the click, and Marinette tensed as she listened to it grow closer. Something or someone was coming towards her. Was it the villain who spread the gas? Why didn’t she hear it move on the ceiling beforehand? Was she going to have to defend herself and Alya as a civilian? 

A pair of boots hit the hardwood floor, and Marinette shifted into a fighting stance, holding her cane up like a sword. If she had to go, she didn’t plan on going easily. “Who are you?”

“My name is Robin.” The response was quick, almost automatic. “We’re evacuating the premises. I need you to come with me.”

Marinette hesitated. Wasn’t Robin one of the heroes Alya had mentioned? The person in front of her sounded like another teenager. (Then again, being a teenager didn’t stop her from saving Paris on a weekly basis)

A leather glove wrapped around her fore-arm- his hand, she realized -and he pulled her against him. 

“Hold on tight.”

Hold on tight? “What do you me-”

Robin clicked a button, and with a sharp tug, they were flying through the air. Marinette let out a yelp, and then she did something that changed her life forever.

She wrapped her hands around his neck.

As soon as she did, a bright flash of light invaded her vision, and suddenly, colors were everywhere. There were light colored walls and dark colored floors- perhaps that was the brown she’d heard about? -and the statues were a mix of light and dark colors, similar to the marble rock that she’d been taught about. And the paintings- oh, the paintings were just bursting with color and life! It all looked positively extraordinary and amazing and-

Robin gasped above her, no doubt from the shock of seeing as well. His hand must have slipped from whatever was pulling them upwards, because in the next moment they were falling back to the ground. (And she could see it! She didn’t have to hear the rush of wind or feel the pit of her stomach rising to know!)

The two hit the ground with a grunt, and Robin swiftly shifted their position to use his body as a shield to protect Marinette from further injuries as they rolled across the floor. This resulted in Marinette landing on top of Robin and Robin rubbing the back of his head with another groan. 

“A-Are you okay?” She asked as she pushed herself up to hover over him. That fall didn’t feel too steep, but having extra weight on top of him most certainly would have made the landing worse.

Now that she could actually see the person in front of her with her own eyes, she could tell that he was definitely a superhero. He had an entire costume on, equipped with a cape and everything. She even spotted a utility belt on his waist that appeared to have a hefty amount of gadgets on it.

Robin looked up at her, and though his mask hindered her view of his eyes, the surprise was clear on his face as his eyebrows shot up.

“Who..” He trailed off, his head tilting slightly as he glanced around the room. He was still absorbing the fact that he could finally see, just as she was.

His gaze snapped back to her. “Who are you?”

I could ask you the same question. She thought. After fifteen years of searching, she’d finally found her soulmate, and not only did he live halfway across the world from her, but was also a superhero just like her. What were the odds?

Reality slapped both of them in the face when another scream pierced the air, and the two scrambled to get back to their feet. Soulmates or not, they were still in the middle of a villain attack. They couldn’t get distracted.

People were still laughing hysterically on the floor, but now a strange gas was trailing into the blind section. Marinette knew she should be panicked seeing it, considering what it did to Alya, but another part of her felt giddy, because Alya had also told her that the gas was green. She finally knew what green looked like!

“We have to get out of here.” Robin said. He pulled something off of his utility belt- was that a gun? -and shot it upwards. Marinette’s gaze immediately followed it curiously, and she managed to catch sight of a shiny object latching onto an open hole in the rooftop. It made a clicking sound, reminding her of the sound she’d heard when Robin first swooped into the gallery.

So, that’s how he got in here. She thought to herself. 

Robin pulled her against his chest again, clicking the same button he had earlier to start rising to the roof. “No surprises this time, all right?”

Marinette couldn’t help the laugh that burst from her lips, but it wasn’t because of the gas. The ludicrousness of the situation was simply too much. Who asks their soulmate not to give them another surprise such as the gift of sight? Who finds their soulmate in the hero who’s saving them during a villain attack?

Apparently, Marinette does, and this field trip, she decided, was turning out to be much more interesting than originally expected.

(Send me a letter and I’ll do a thing!)

(The next one I’ll be doing is O with Felinette!)

[sisterspooky1013]

Goodnight and Go by SisterSpooky1013

Part of the inspired by songs series, this work is inspired by “goodnight and go” by Imogen Heap.

2219 words, read it here on AO3

His knock was always a welcome interruption. The soft rap rap against her door seemed to have a direct line to her lips, quirking them into a secret smirk that she invariably erased before greeting him. She was, after all, an accomplished avoider, hider, and suppresser of emotions. She had become so adept at concealing her visceral response to him that she found she was unable to let it be known, even now that she felt ready for that part of herself to be seen. Nearly dying from cancer could do that to you; make you rethink why you ever built walls around your heart in the first place. What was meant to protect you from hurt and vulnerability also served to prevent you from having the type of true connection that made life worth living in the first place. And so when she learned her fate, that she would live, she decided to make a change, to let him in, only to discover that she didn’t actually know how. So, brick by brick, she was deconstructing her own defenses. Sometimes that looked like not suppressing a smile, or making a sexual innuendo, or sitting a little closer than was absolutely necessary. It was tedious work, but the progress was continual. What she had not anticipated, however, was how quickly Mulder would respond to the change in her, and how affected she would be by his response.

Mulder had always been affectionate towards her, tender even at times. His broad hand at the small of her back, the occasional stroke of her cheek, a kiss to the top of her head now and then, these were expected and appreciated gestures. Her own demeanor or their sometimes tumultuous relationship never seemed to affect whether he interacted with her in this way; it was simply a given. But the first time she reciprocated, returning his coy smile with a toothy grin of her own instead of a suppressed smirk, she saw his body respond to the feedback. Something shifted in his eyes, or maybe it was more like a subtle wave that traveled down his body, or a spark that sputtered from his fingertips. Whatever it was, she felt it from several feet away, electric and thick and heavy between them, and it hadn’t abated since.

Rap rap.

She felt a flush spread from her chest to her fingertips, and her tongue darted out to taste the smile that stretched across her lips. She wouldn’t push it away this time; she wanted him to see how happy she was to see him. Pulling the door open, she greeted him warmly with a “hi” and he grinned in return, setting off a fluttering in her belly that had previously been reserved for high school crushes. His snug jeans and grey T shirt hugged his muscular body in all the right places, and she decided then and there to pull down her brick for the day, to chip away at part of the wall. Still smiling, she let her gaze float down his body, taking in the hard swell of his pecs and the soft bulge in his pants before she met his eye again. It felt gratuitous and overt, but in reality it was nothing more than a flicker; something he might have missed had he looked away for even a moment. But he hadn’t missed it. She knew because he inhaled deeply and she saw his eyes darken as his pupils expanded, his nervous system unable to suppress its natural response to the flush of dopamine he experienced as a result of her leering.

“Come in,” she said, stepping aside, ignoring the blush that she felt warm her cheeks. She couldn’t suppress her body’s natural response to what felt dangerous and exciting any more than he could. “Can I get you something? Coffee, beer?”

She had been working on not asking why he was there, or what he needed. She wanted to eliminate the pretense that their relationship could exist only as it related to a case or a task, so that they could simply be together without a reason for doing so. Maybe if she stopped asking him to justify why he came over or called, he would do so more often, just because.

“Sure, beer sounds great,” he replied, slipping off his shoes and making for the couch. He had nothing in his hands, seemingly no agenda, and that fact both thrilled her and made her uncomfortable. The discomfort, she knew, was part of her defense mechanisms, and so she chose to ignore it. Another brick fell away with a THUNK as she plopped down beside him, on the middle cushion rather than the opposite end as she normally would.

“What have you been up to today?” She asked, handing him his open bottle while taking a swig of her own. His thick fingers brushed over hers as he took the beer from her hand and she caught his eye briefly.

“Not much, I’ve just been over at the gunmen’s, playing Monopoly of all things.” He pivoted his body towards hers, draping an arm over the back of the couch behind her head, which felt like some kind of embrace though they weren’t touching at all.

“Ah, who won?” She asked, curling her legs underneath her torso so that she could also face him, the side of her body leaning on the back of the couch, his arm close enough that she could smell the soap on his skin.

“Nobody, we just stopped playing. I don’t think I’ve ever finished a game of Monopoly, actually.” He shifted slightly and she felt his fingertips brush over the back of her neck momentarily, sending a shiver up her spine.

“What? How can you just stop without anyone winning?!” She was genuinely incredulous.

Mulder chuckled good-naturedly. “Not everyone is as competitive as you, Scully. We were just playing for fun, it doesn’t matter who won.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “That approach would not fly in the Scully household.”

“I’m suddenly getting an idea of why you never played sports in school,” he teased, touching her neck on purpose this time, squeezing gently. Without allowing herself to think about it, she leaned into his touch like a cat, or a flower seeking sunlight. Encouraged, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull and kept them there.

“No,” she replied, though her voice was a little softer, her breath a little less even, “I never played sports because I’m terrible at them.”

“Really? I was under the impression that there’s nothing you aren’t good at.” His eyes were on her lips, studying them as though he was seeing them for the first time. In what was an unconscious tick, her tongue slipped out and ran along the seam of her mouth. She saw his eyebrows jump almost imperceptibly.

“I don’t like doing things I’m not good at, so I generally avoid them,” she answered, trying to ignore the way his fingertips whispered against her skin, and the resulting throb between her legs.

“What are you bad at, other than sports?” He asked, and she was momentarily lost in the flutter of his eyelashes and the green flecks in his irises as they traversed her face, cool and serene and without nervousness. He always seemed so comfortable and in his element, unflappable in a way that she often envied. His eyes fixed on hers and she realized she was staring, but forced herself not to look away.

“Puzzles. I suck at puzzles,” she finally answered, and his mouth quirked into a smile that she mirrored, just because his smile made her happy.

“I’ve seen you do puzzles, Scully. Difficult ones.”

She nodded, humming at the feeling of his fingers rubbing against her scalp with the movement. “Once I start I have to finish it, but that doesn’t mean that I like it, or that I’m any good at it.”

“Ah, yes, that sounds like the Scully I know,” he said, slipping his hand away from her and returning his arm to the back of the couch. “Maybe we should play Monopoly sometime, see it all the way through,” he added, not seeming to notice the fact that every atom in her body was straining towards him, desperate to feel his touch again.

“I’m not sure that’s a good plan. We may not be friends when the game is over, regardless of who wins. Perhaps something lower stakes, like Candy Land,” she said with a smirk.

Mulder shook his head in mock-doubt. “I dunno, Scully, I can just envision you getting the cupcake card when you’re up by chocolate mountain. You’ll flip the table.” She screwed up her mouth but didn’t deny it. “How about strip poker? There are no losers in that game.”

She imagined Mulder peeling off his boxers after a bad hand, unable to conceal his arousal. Or maybe it would be her, revealing herself to him bit by bit. Her nipples tightened at the thought, and she saw his eyes dart down to her chest, noticing. Of course she wouldn’t be wearing a bra when she wasn’t expecting company.

“Isn’t the person who ends up naked the loser in strip poker?” She asked rhetorically, the verbalizing of nakedness a thrill in itself. Not that they hadn’t both seen each other naked before, but they seemed to have an unspoken agreement that incidental eyefulls during times of medical emergency didn’t count.

“Technically speaking, yes, but if they aren’t particularly opposed to getting naked in the first place, that too can be a win.” He took a swig of his beer, and Scully suddenly remembered hers existed and did the same. “So you’d last, what,” he looked over her body, calculating how many items of clothing she was wearing, imagining not only what he could see but what lay beneath, “Four rounds at most. You don’t have socks on, that’s a disadvantage.”

She took a deep breath, summoning courage. “Only two, actually. You caught me at a bad time, strip poker wise.” She took another drink to cover her shock at her own admission.

Mulder’s eyes narrowed as he appraised her again. Pants and shirt. Oh. He shifted a little.

“Do you make a habit of not wearing underwear, Scully?” He ventured, the pitch of his voice one she was not well acquainted with. His mouth held a playful smirk, but his eyes betrayed his true reaction to what she’d said.

“Why do you ask?” She returned, question for question.

He smiled like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Just curious,” he said, heat rising in his cheeks.

She nodded, then diverted the focus to him. She’d had about as much as she could handle. “You’ve got about…6 losing hands to work with?” She asked, guesstimating. “Unless you’re also not wearing underwear,” she added cheekily.

“On the contrary, I’m outfitted in my favorites,” he said, leaning forward to set his beer on the coffee table before he leaned back and pulled up his shirt, revealing the ripples of his abdomen and a trail of soft brown hair that disappeared into his jeans. Scully suppressed a moan. He tugged the waistband of his boxers above his jeans to reveal a pattern of tiny cartoon Elvis’ on a black background.

“Those are very adult underwear, Mulder,” she teased him, and he tucked them away but stayed reclined like that, hands folded on his belly. There was still a sliver of flesh visible between his shirt and pants, which she pointedly avoided looking at.

He tilted his head up to look at her, their faces closer now in his reclined position. “I’d ask to see yours, but…y’know.” He arched his eyebrows and flicked his eyes over her body quickly.

“Maybe some other time,” she replied, a coy smile on her mouth.

“May-be,” he returned.

They were quiet for a moment, which turned into a minute, and felt like an eternity. It was the kind of silence that demanded action, shit or get off the pot kind of silence. She felt the hairs on her arms stand up, anticipation pricking her skin like a sunburn. Do something, she told herself. She parted her lips to speak, but no words came out.

“I should get going,” he said abruptly, and sat up. It felt like a bucket of cold water. Had he interpreted her hesitation as disinterest? She stood dumbly and followed him to the door. “Thanks for the beer,” he said, hand on the knob, and she nodded.

Just before he was about to pull the door closed behind him, he stopped. “Hey, next time I go to the Gunmen’s for game night, you wanna come with?”

She smiled tightly, “yeah, that sounds fun.”

He heaved a sigh that sounded like relief and smiled. “Great, I’ll let them know. Though I really recommend you wear underwear going over there. Never can be too careful with Frohike around. You know how he feels about you.” She chuffed a small laugh, and he added “can’t say I blame the guy.” Giving her one more glance from head to toe, he left.

Brick by brick. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless. One day they would get there.

Tagging @today-in-fic thank you!