#look at the bushings and radiators on those transformers!

[dragonpropaganda]

Power station’s getting a bit of a makeover visually, since it didn’t really feel as interesting as my other regions.

[cakerybakery]

Childish Behaviour part 7

Sera got him dressed and carried him as she flew. He held on tight and buried his face into her shoulder as she flew faster than he’d ever seen her fly. Lucifer had wanted to fly himself but he never would have been able to keep up with Sera.

There were already a bunch of grownups in Eden looking for the first humans. Several flocked around Sera and Lucifer as soon as they landed. Asking, demanding, to know where he and the humans liked to play, to hide, where they could have gone. They were in his face, pushy, boarder line angry.

Lucifer stuck his thumb in his mouth and tears welled up in his eyes and he buried his head into Sera’s shoulder. He didn’t like this. He wanted to be at home!

Thunder boomed overhead and he screamed and cried louder.

Sera unfurled her wings and transformed to a more angelic form, pushing the others back and clearing the skies for a moment. “BACK OFF!” Her celestial voice rang out like a dying star. Heated and angry. Powerful and demanding to be heard among the radiation of space.

The angels were pushed back.

Given room, she put Lucifer down on his feet. She stroked his hair and returned to normal. “Lucifer, I need you to be very grownup right now. Can you think of the places Adam and Lilith liked to hide best?”

Lucifer wiped the tears and nodded. He could be grownup. He knows all the best hiding places. He could find his friends.

“There’s a lilac bush by the frog creek we play in. And Lilith made a hole in the clearing, she hides there a lot to avoid taking a bath. And Adam likes to hide in trees but Lilith isn’t a good climber yet.”

“Okay. Is there anywhere else?” She had his hands in hers and was crouched down to look him in the eyes.

He thought but could only think of one more place. One of the places he and Adam hid the day Adam was made. But it was super secret and special, and Adam might get mad if he told Zachary all their hiding spots.

“It’s very important we find them. They could get hurt without grownups around to take care of them. Is there anywhere else they could be?”

“But Zachary is never around. Not even when Adam gets hurt. And Miriam only cares if Lilith is dirty!” Why do the grownups act like they care now? They weren’t like Sera at all.

Sera who was bossy but took him to a from his lessons with Micheal. And gave him nice warm baths, not the cool ones in the pond, and was never very far. Even when they were in Eden and Sera was overseeing the work here she was always close. Unless they were playing a hiding game and snuck off. But if he fell or got hurt, she was close enough to call.

He caught a few of them giving Miriam and Zackary a mean look and Sera grabbed his attention again.

“I know. But right now they could get hurt. The sky is clear here but there’s a big storm scheduled for tonight and once the weather has started it is very difficult to stop.”

“But Adam doesn’t like thunderstorms!” He didn’t either. They were loud and scary. He wanted to suck his thumb but he needed to be grownup for Sera and not a dumb baby.

The cave was a bit slippy and sloped down. It wasn’t dirt but solid rock and it was hard to climb. The grownups couldn’t fit unless they made themselves small.

He tugged Sera closer, “there’s a cave we hide in sometimes. But it’s special so I’m not supposed to tell. It’s okay if you look but I’m not sure how to tell you how to get there.”

“Okay. Just you and I will go.” Sera straightened up. “The rest of you check out those spots and then just do a sweep of Eden from end to end. Look in every tree and bush, in every hole. They are small and with the storm they’re likely scared. They probably won’t answer, especially if they think they’ll be in trouble. Adam likes to be up high and Lilith likes to be low.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t be trusting the word of child-“

“Perhaps, Zackary, if you had been more attentive, Adam wouldn’t be missing. Again!” Sera interrupted. “You best hope we find them or I shall personally see to it that you and Miriam are both banished to the edge of the universe where you can’t lose more children.”

Zachary puffed up his chest, seething, “as though you have not lost the Morningstar. I know about how he skipped his lessons. Where was he then, hmm?”

“Here, in Eden. Did you think I was unaware of his comings and goings? As it seems you were unaware that Adam and he have been playing together since Adam’s creation?” Sera shut him down and turned her back on the much older angel.

She took Lucifer’s hand and he looked over his shoulder at Zachary’s chastised face. Lucifer stuck his tongue out quickly and turned back.

As the other angels took off to continue the search Lucifer led her deep into the woods. Every time the lightning flashes and the thunder boomed he jumped and held a little tighter for a moment, waiting for more.

When it didn’t he’d sigh with relief and keep going.

The rain started slowly, the angels trying to hold it back, but the more they held it back the more the storm rumbled and the darker the clouds got. The sky was nearly pitch black and they were only halfway to the cave.

They could hold back the storm no more and even though Sera’s wings covered him they couldn’t stop the near buckets of water as it fell, fast and hard. It stung and Lucifer hoped Adam and Lilith were under cover. Too late she used her powers to block the rain above them.

Wet, he practiced shooing the water off himself while they walked as Sera radiated out her powers and dried herself and the bits of him close enough to her to be dried. He lead them through the deepest parts of the woods. There the trees got bigger and the rain fell further apart but in thicker drops as they collected and rolled off the large leaves.

Until at last they got to the cave. Barely more than a horizontal seam in the crust of the Earth, the mouth of the cave was just high enough for Adam, the tallest of the three, to crawl into.

It was one of many spot they had hidden from the grownups that first day. The seam angled down, get steeper the further back they went. The handholds harder to grab as the wet mossy rocks fit closer together.

The rain gathered in a pool beside the opening and had been pouring into the cave.

They heard screaming and the echoing scrabbling of their small hands against the stones.

Sera called out, she told Lucifer to stay, she’d do something. Lucifer wasn’t listening. His friends were in trouble.

He crawled into the cave before she could stop him. His wings scraping the roof and he willed them away. He couldn’t fly in such a place and they would only drag him down.

Lucifer turned himself as the cave started to slope more drastically, so he wouldn’t fall head first. He could barely see in the near darkness and wondered if his friends could see at all.

Clinging to the stones, continuously slipping from them and being dunked under the water before coming up coughing and clinging to the rocks again as the water rose. They were tiring already, never having learned to swim.

Letting go, Lucifer let himself fall into the water. He kicked, it wasn’t much different than when he was a duck or when he practiced in the tub at home. Lilith was closer and lower in the water, he surged under her and pushed her up.

She screamed and called for Adam. Some monster had her.

Lucifer watched for a second as Adam let go of the rock just above them and splashed into the pool. He kicked blindly. Striking out against Lucifer.

“Stop it!” He tried to use his own celestial voice but instead of a dying star it was more like the falling of a star. It burned his throat and lit up the black abyss of the darkness.

His friends recoiled as the cave lit up and they could see him. Adam floundered in the water and Lucifer reached out and grabbed him too.

He was stronger than the humans. He could tread the water for longer than them, but even better he could shape shift. Not into many things, but he could.

Lucifer concentrated. He needed the webbed feet of a duck, but they had to be so much bigger than his normal duckling size. He needed to be light to float and fluffy because he knew they were cold and shaking not just from the effort of swimming and panic.

By the time he was done he took up most of the room and Adam and Lilith were clinging to his back. He folded all six of his wings over them in a downy blanket to await for Sera to figure out how to get them out.

It didn’t take long. The crawling and the fall, the treading water and the shape shifting felt like it took forever but couldn’t have been more than half a minute or so.

In that time Sera called out to the other angels. A beacon in the storm to come to her assistance. Together they commanded the Earth of Eden to open wide, to open the cave to the sky. The Earth peeled open and revealed the pool and children.

Lucifer shielded Lilith and Adam from the falling rocks. And quacked happily at the open sky.

Before the angels could come to them Lucifer opened his wings and beat them. Rising up and out of the pool. Unlike a normal duck he did not need a runway to get enough lift. He was an angel.

He yearned for the sky. To fly his friends up above the clouds, above the rain, above the storm. Instead he settled next to Sera and forgot for a moment he was not a large six winged duck and popped back into himself. The humans crashing down on top of him.

Lilith and Adam shivered and hugged him close, bawling their eyes. Before Miriam and Zackary could gather their charges up, Sera picked one up in each arm and hugged them close.

Her powers radiated out and they dried and warmed in her presence.

Lucifer shook to get the water off himself and fell into step beside Sera as she carried the sobbing humans back to a less dangerous part of Eden.

[shadowbrightshine]

My gift to you @marvelmaniac715

Here's a little thing I made for that idea I was sharing with you. This is completely out of order from where I would want to start the story, but it's a thing I made as a little proof of concept. Unfortunately it's pretty rough, but I'm writing from a perspective of a self hating girl, and then a teen out of his depth. Once I write it proper, it'll feel more natural. For now, here is Cherry Lolly, or Janet from the Starry eyed children Revival, and Tim Hudson, the first prophet after the Lord's reformation you wrote. Say hi to the Homeless man! whoopies I wrote 2.5k words! enjoy everyoneeee. Fair warning, Janet's views on herself is not how I see things. Also Janet thinks in a more stilted way, so her narration is, like that. Reblogs appreciated!

Janet watched from the bush as Tim passed by with William. He’d changed since the accident that took away the use of his left leg. He was more confident and talked to everyone now. Janet watched him, him and the brightly colored friends he’d made. She didn’t mean to be creepy, but if anyone saw her they would run away. She knew that, she knew how hideous she was, with her top teeth covered in skin, a surgical adjustment and filter flap in her neck that made her look like a robot, not even a lower jaw to pretend to look like a normal girl. Her parents tried to tell her she was still pretty. The screams of those kids still haunted her and proved them wrong every single day she walked the earth. That’s why she had to hide in bushes and trees to watch the normal people go about their days. 

Tim had changed physically too. His fingers were longer, and his right leg was longer, she’d noticed his left leg drag less and less as the months went on, just slightly. She knew why, it had to do with William. She’d watched him and his brothers for a little while now. They weren’t normal, they could transform into new bodies. She would give her dominant arm up for a power like that. No one else remembered, but Tim used to have brown eyes. Whoever changed everyone’s minds must have forgotten her. No one remembers Janet. Tim used to have brownish eyes. Now one eye was a dull blue, and the other was still hazel now, it had a thick ring of green around it, and green near the pupil. No one else remembered, except for her. No one likes Janet but her parents, and they never tried to have another child, they learned their lesson. 

Janet felt gross. She was so gross watching others like this. But she couldn’t talk to them without revealing this awful deformity. She had to use her talk pad if she used the phone. Tim was special. Something was different about him now. She’d seen him give a present to the homeless man on Christmas Eve. She’d seen many things. She knew about Max Jagerman, the ghost of Hatchetfield who murdered her favorite girl. Ruth was the only other person she worked up the courage to interact with, and that was only a week before her death. Ruth didn’t care that she was disgusting, she’d called Janet pretty, she’d held hands with her, she even gave her these cherry hair clips she would never stop wearing. 

The brothers showed up on the night Max disappeared forever, and Janet could feel the shift in the air as time went on. The town was different now. They had something to do with it, and they could do things no one else could. Them and the sister, the girl who walked with Hannah. She’d tried to talk to Hannah, but her cowardice kept her back. Janet shivered, it was cold out and she didn’t have proper protection today. Wendy radiated warmth and a special magic, she could feel it. Janet crept back towards her home, the woods feeling more real to her than the town did. 

She carefully avoided crossing into the camp territory. She’d also watched girl Jeri and boy Jerry before. She was scared of the counselors. The adults didn’t seem to notice how strange they were, but she knew. She knew they were bad news, and she knew about little Jerry. He was nice to her, and she brought him muffins sometimes. Her family lived far away from the rest of the town. She knew why, it was because her parents were ashamed of her. That’s why they never went into town, or took her out to shop, or lived in town. They would lie and tell her it’s because this house was part of the family line. They told her lots of families lived in the woods. That part wasn’t a lie, she’d seen the other kids playing in the woods, but they couldn’t meet her. 

Janet was a monster, and she knew it. The only person other than her parents who was nice to her was a fellow monster. Normal people didn’t need to use a feeding line in her arm to stay alive. Normal people had tongues and chins and could talk. Normal people didn’t spend their days watching from the shadows. Normal people had friends. No one remembered the day she was born in the hospital and the nurses screamed in fear anymore. She knew she was a monster. But like a monster she couldn’t resist the draw of humanity. She wanted to be seen and loved. She spent hours writing in her notebooks, entire scripts, books, and stories. She’d explored every part of the forest. 

Tim was nice to the homeless man. No one was nice to him, everyone hated him and thought he was weird and gross. Janet had watched him stumble around and talk to himself all the time. She thought about trying to be his friend, but he’d probably assume she was a hallucination and ignore her. Better not to risk it. Tim though, Tim got him a gift, and he talked to him, and cared about him. Maybe…maybe he wouldn’t mock her. Maybe he would be nice to an animal like her. A monster like Janet. She had to try. 

Christmas Eve:

“Spare change for the homeless?” The man asked, it was one of the few things he could say easily. Tim shook his head and took a seat next to him. The homeless man scrambled to make room for him, staring at him with more  confused than usual eyes. Wiggly stood a few feet away, holding Tim’s crutches for him. The snow was thin here under the awning of the shoe store. Tim shivered, but his snow pants kept him dry. It was harder to get around in these, but they were warmer. 

Tim looked at the man’s shaking hands in the cold. “Do you have a name?” He asked, taking some gloves out of his pocket and handing them to the man. “Everyone walks past you and ignores you. I’ve seen you around since I was a baby.” The man used to speak more clearly, if just as strangely. Tim remembered when he would have conversations with random objects. Now his voice was really shaky and he couldn’t seem to form full sentences anymore.

The man struggled to get the gloves onto his hands, fingers numbed by cold and by some kind of disability that made all his movements strange or jerky. Maybe it was making his voice worse. Was it a degenerative condition? “A…A name…” He looked up at the sky, it was already getting dark, and the last bits of sunlight reflected off the clouds. “My na-naame, I had…” He shut his eyes. “I had a name…” He suddenly clutched his head and groaned. “I ca-can’t thinnnk about the pa’ anymore. Time hurts, it hurts!” 

Tim grabbed his arm in alarm. “Forget it, it’s ok! If you don’t have a name, maybe we can think of one!” 

The man uncurled and looked at the hand on his coated arm. No one had done that in years. “...A new one?” He rocked back and forth for a minute, eyes searching around for something. 

The teenager nodded, this wasn’t how he’d planned for this to go, but the homeless man needed help, and he wanted to help out if he could. “Yeah! Um…Uh…” He looked around and saw the holiday menu on the Beanie’s sign. “What about Noelle? Or maybe Noah if that’s too feminine?” The man scrunched up his face in concentration. 

“Noelle.” The man repeated the name a few times, each time less slurred than the last. “...I hav’a name now.” Noelle smiled, turning to Tim. “Thanks! That’s good stuff isn’t- yeah, pretty…good.” Tim watched how badly he was shivering. The cold was making things even worse. The cold makes your head foggy, or that’s what it does to Tim. A car went by, a green one. “Tim, thanks.” 

“How do you know my name?” 

“Whose…name?” Noelle looked around for another person, but they were the only ones on this street right now. He shivered and pulled his coat tighter over his body, and Tim noticed the buttons were all snapped or missing. Or the hole was torn and too big to keep the button in place. Noelle couldn’t close his coat anymore. 

Tim shook his head. “Never mind. Well, Noelle, I wanted to give you something. You’re broken, right? Your brain is broken, and you can’t do stuff normally anymore right? That’s why you do all those weird things all the time, and follow Peter around.” 

Noelle nodded. “Petey…” Tears formed in his eyes, which confused Tim, but he pushed forwards. He hadn’t planned this out very well, but something inside him told him to come to Noelle and help him. 

“Well, I’m broken too.” Tim gestured to his leg, which was currently sitting in an awkwardly painful position which Tim couldn’t feel. “My body got messed up, and I think my heart is broken, or…something inside me got broken when I was younger. See, broken people have to help each other.” Tim felt weird, this wasn’t how he usually talked, but he wasn’t sure if Noelle would understand him otherwise. Tim didn’t know how to explain these things. “I want to help you. If we don’t help each other, who will? Becky serves at the soup kitchen, but you always get there after it closes so she can’t give you anything.” He pulled out a gift wrapped box and offered it to Noelle. “So, maybe this will help.” 

Noelle happily took the box and looked at Tim. “New box!” 

“No, it’s in the box, it’s- it’s in the box Noelle.” Had Noelle ever been given a Christmas present before? Tim felt tears freeze on his cheeks. He should’ve done this years ago. Tim helped him unwrap the gift, revealing a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles watch. “My uncle Wilbur always tells me that it’s important to keep the time, so maybe if you have a watch too you can get to the kitchen before it closes.” Tim felt self conscious. “Sorry, I thought it would be better to use a cheaper watch so I can replace it for you if it gets broken, and if I got an expensive one it might get stolen from you. Is this ok?” 

Noelle stared at the ticking clock, fascinated by it. “Tick…Tock…” He nodded distractedly and slipped the watch onto his wrist. “What time?” Noelle had a weird cast to his eyes as he looked at the watch-face. 

Tim waved for Noelle to look at him. “It’s from 4pm to 6pm, so from here-” He made the clock time with his arms. “To there. As long as you come during that time, we can help you.” Tim looked at Wiggly, and then back to the man. “If you need more help, I want you to do this special knock, and then I’ll know it’s you. Blinky says you won’t hurt me, and even if you tried, Wiggly wouldn’t let you. So knock on my window and I’ll wake up to help you.” Tim knocked on the wall in a simple but strange way. “Ok, you do it.” 

Noelle tried, messing it up a few times before he got it down. “...That?” 

“Yeah, just knock like that on my window. In the box is a map to my house, and where my window is. I wanna help you, but don’t come unless you really need me, ok?” Tim waved Wiggly over and dug his water bottle out of his bag. “And…You can have this too, so you can get water from the fountains and take it with you.” 

Noelle held the water bottle and box in his arms, crying as his face made a strange smile. “Tha’s really nice. Thank you!” His eyes cleared for a moment, as if he was actually seeing Tim. His voice changed, and it sounded really familiar. “Tim…You’re the Hudson kid, you used to go to Beanie’s all the time, and you had a donut every time we ran into each other. I was trying to ask out- out- I…” The cloudiness came back to him and the strange smile returned along with his normal voice. “...Thanks…” 

Tim swallowed and wiped his eyes, a little disturbed by the exchange. It was much weirder for him to have clarity and then go back to his usual than to just be strange. “Um…right. Well, well, merry Christmas Noelle. I hope you can get soup now. Goodbye.” 

“See’a kid! Merry merry merry- that. Merry!” He called as Wiggly gave him his crutches back and they headed home. Well, not home, but to Lex’s place for a Christmas party, with his Dad’s permission, of course.  

Wiggly glanced back at the man. “Do you know who he is?” Tim noticed the testing tone he had.

“No one knows who he is, or where he came from. I feel bad for him… Do you know him, Wiggly?” 

His friend paused and shook his head. “No, Tim, I do not.” Tim looked at him, something felt off about his answer, but Wiggly didn’t usually hide things if it wasn’t for a good reason. “You did a very good thing friendy wend.” 

Tim smiled and accepted his friend’s silent offer to carry him back, the crutches held by semi transparent tentacles that sort of waved around them. “I feel much better, knowing he has some gloves now. Thanks for buying those.” 

“Mhm, now it’s time to open those presents you made us. I’ve very excited Timmly wim.” Tim snickered at the name and relaxed his neck, looking up at the sky. It was dark enough that no one would’ve been able to see Wiggly’s magic extra limbs anyways. 

“You’re going to love them. All of you. I spent a long time making these.” It was Tim’s idea to give the brothers and sister their presents on Christmas Eve so they could spend the day with their respective favorite people. Tinky had invited himself to Peter’s house for the day. 

Wiggly met his eyes and gave him a smile. “I have a few gifts for you as well, and I think you’ll like them.” Wiggly’s smile stretched to a grin. “You may need some more wrapping paper.” 

Tim grinned back. “You’re the best, you know that right?” 

“Of course I do. I’m the king of Hatchetfield.” He gestured to the crown with a tentacle, which was hidden and poking from under his winter cap. The hat didn’t do much since it wouldn’t fit over his head properly, but Tim thought it was funny and didn’t point out how useless the hat actually was. 

“Yep! Kings and Queens and all the inbetweens! Let’s go party!!” Tim cheered. The two continued to talk as they made their way to Lex’s house.

[votivecandleholder]

A Guide to Choosing LED Net Lights for Christmas Parties

New Post has been published on https://lightsforparty.com/a-guide-to-choosing-led-net-lights-for-christmas-parties

A Guide to Choosing LED Net Lights for Christmas Parties

Warm cider, twinkling stars, and joy in the air – it’s that magical time of year again when every corner of our world is painted with the hues of celebration. As we gather with loved ones to celebrate, there’s something mystical about the brilliance of festive decorations that warms our hearts. And what better way to infuse that enchantment than with the ethereal allure of LED Christmas net lights?

Best LED Net Lights

In this guide, we’ll discuss these luminous wonders – those captivating, energy-efficient strings that can transform your surroundings into a gleaming masterpiece. Imagine a tapestry of lights woven into your outdoor oasis or a shimmering curtain of illumination cascading over your windows. LED Christmas net lights are the secret behind these enthralling scenes, and we’re here to be your guiding light in choosing and using them to perfection.

Led Net Lights Mini Bush Plant

Why using LED Net Lights for Christmas

Step into the future of holiday glamour with LED lights! These tiny powerhouses are the ultimate holiday design sidekick as they offer a sleigh-full of benefits. They are intact with warmth and wonder and are also energy-efficient, making your home a beacon of festivity. Their durability is like no other and will radiate for seasons to come, unlike their short-lived incandescent cousins. Plus, they’re cool to the touch – no more worries about curious little fingers or prancing pets.

Stunning led net lights for christmas

Led Net Lights On Christmas Tree

Wrap them, drape them, twirl them – they’re up for any fervent adventure. From trees to railings, indoors to out, these lights are your creative canvas. Say goodbye to the old and embrace the new, as LED lights shine brighter and longer in your heart and home, creating a sparkling pinnacle that is uniquely yours!

Choosing the Right LED Christmas Net Lights

Now, let’s get down to business – choosing the right LED net lights for your winter wonderland! You have the power to choose the size, color, and even the way your lights twinkle! Whether you’re decking out your porch, brightening up the garden, or even turning your living room into a lively haven, selecting the right size and coverage matters. As for colors, oh, the possibilities! Warm white for that traditional elegance, or perhaps vibrant multicolored for a whimsical touch? From cozy reds to icy blues, the choice is yours to craft an ambiance that sings to your core and dazzles your senses.

Outdoor led net lights

Led Net Lights On Bush Plants In The Night

With twinkling, steady, and fading modes, they’re the ultimate mood-setters for your festivities. Picture your space gently beaming like luminaries on a frosty night, or choose a steady glow for a cozy ambiance. Some various modes and effects can turn your space into a jubilant dreamland. Oh, and a tip from one decorator to another: make sure those lights are outdoor-rated. Let’s face it, Mother Nature can be a bit unpredictable, but these lights are ready for whatever she throws their way.

Setting Up LED Christmas Net Lights

Now that you’ve got your whimsical tools, let’s bring the enchantment to life. Before you begin with the installation of your LED net lights, a little preparation goes a long way. Give those lights a quick once-over to check for defects or damaged bulbs.

Led Net Lights Plant And Ground Lights

Make sure they’re in tip-top shape! Now, clear the space where you are planning to set them up and gently untangle those strands – remember, no pulling! Carefully drape or hang your LED Christmas net lights, letting them hug your trees, twinkle through your windows, and kiss your fences. The goal? To make your surroundings look like they’ve stepped straight out of a fairy tale.

Creative Ways to Use LED Christmas Net Lights

But we’re not stopping at the ordinary – it’s time to breathe life into your décor with these genius ideas! We’re talking about framing windows with a luminous embrace, tracing the curves of your fencing with radiance, and wrapping trees and shrubs with a touch of allure. Consider unique display ideas such as wrapping your LED lights around columns for a touch of elegance, or draping them over pergolas for a cozy, glistening hideaway.

Led Net Lights Front Yard Decoration

Main Colors

multi-color

red

blue

white

orange

green

But why stop at the basics? Envision cascading net lights turning a gazebo into a celestial haven or a shimmering curtain of lights turning your backyard into a dreamscape. Keep in mind that layering is key – the more layers, the more depth and dimension you create. It’s the secret to turning your space into a glowing paradise that rivals the North Star itself!

Maintenance and Safety Tips

Led Net Lights Roof Decoration

Just like any good tale, the story of your LED net lights continues long after they’re first hung. Lights this enchanting deserve a bit of TLC. Maintain the charm by regularly inspecting for burnt-out bulbs or wear and tear. And while the lights might be cool to the touch, remember to practice safety. Make sure your extension cords are up to snuff and that your lights stay clear of anything flammable. When the final bows are taken and the curtain falls on the holiday season, store your lights with care, ensuring they’re ready to shine bright again next year.

Top Brands

Philips

Walmart

Inspiration and Design Ideas

Here’s where the real fun begins – let’s talk themes! Decorating with themes is like telling a holiday story with your space. Themes let you infuse your personality and style into every area, making your space truly extraordinary. Transform your home into a “Winter Wonderland” with icy blues and frosty whites, or venture down “Candy Cane Lane” with playful reds and whites. Feeling nostalgic? “Vintage Holiday” is your answer. And for those starry-eyed dreamers, “Starry Night” beckons with deep blues and sparkling whites. These themes turn your home into a gallery of holiday tales, and you’re the master storyteller!

Led Net Lights On Stair Rails

Led Net Lights Outdoor Plant Decorations

Finally

As our enchanting journey comes to a close, remember that you’re not just stringing lights – you’re crafting moments that leave a twinkle in the spirit of your guests. With LED Christmas net lights, you’re inviting magic to dance through your home, bringing happiness to every corner. From choosing the perfect lights to watching them cast their spell, you’re now equipped with the knowledge to make this season truly spellbinding. May your holidays be illuminated with wonder, and may your heart shine brighter than a thousand LEDs. So go forth, light up the world, dazzle the night, and create joyous memories that will last a lifetime.

[simplyotometrash]

MC turns into MSheep!

Inspired by the lil anime announcement we got because I love MC still being represented by a lil sheepie~!

As usual, this is gender-neutral reader!MC

It was a total accident. You were just working on your potion project with Solomon. He was helping you with the math of it, mostly, since it was pretty complicated. You had no idea where things went wrong. There was a puff of pink smoke when you added the last ingredient and suddenly Solomon was a giant! Well, actually you were turned into a small pink sheep...

Lucifer:

He didn’t know what to say when Solomon brought you home.

You were a sheep. A tiny sheep. And very pink.

His beloved was a sheep.

Lucifer.exe has stopped responding.

Honestly, give this old man a few moments to take in the shock and let things settle.

Then he’s going to threaten Solomon because who else would have turned you into a fucking sheep?

A tiny voice sounded from the sheep. It sounded like you, only smaller.

“It was my fault. I think. Solomon didn’t even touch my potion ingredients.”

Well, that doesn’t change anything. Solomon had best change you back or else.

And those words shot pure ice through your veins. You knew when your Lucifer got pissed off, his threats were not to be taken lightly.

For the time being, however, you had to live as a sheep.

Lucifer didn’t hesitate to just carry you everywhere. What if you got lost? Or Beel tried to eat you? Or Belphie thought you were a pillow? Or Mammon tried to sell you?

There were too many variables and this old demon just wanted some peace of mind.

So you went literally everywhere with him. You two still talked as normal. You even slept in his room still. 

You promised yourself to help him relax once you were human again. You knew your situation caused a lot of unneeded stress on the poor man.

It took three whole days before Solomon was able to change you back.

But when you were human again you didn’t expect Lucifer to hug you so tightly or give you such a firm kiss. He had missed his human being, well, a human far more than he cared to admit.

But you better make good on helping him relax. I think there’s some grey in his hair now.

Mammon:

Haha, good joke, Solomon! Now, where was his human? Really, where were they hiding?

He was so sure it was a prank and you were taking pictures from the bushes or something.

When you voice sounded from the small sheep Mammon nearly fainted.

What the fuck did Solomon do to his human?! The Great Mammon’s human was a sheep!

You explained your situation and Mammon only grew more jittery.

He was grinding his teeth. He didn’t hesitate, though, to snatch you away from Solomon and hold you like you were the most sacred thing in the whole of Devildom.

“Ya better turn them back! I can make money at the casinos so name the price!”

Oh he was serious. Mammon was willing to pay good Grimm just to turn you back.

And Solomon, after cruel teasing with pricing your return to human at over a million Grimm, said he would do it for free. After all, there was no telling if this would wear off or if it needed to be reversed.

So he would do it. It was a good chance to study your potion recipe and figure out how you fucked up.

Mammon, like his older brother, took you literally everywhere with him. But by everywhere I do mean everywhere. Lucifer at least had the decency to leave you out when he went to the bathroom. Mammon did not.

He was also making sure to keep you away from Asmo, who had fallen for your pink and fluffy form on sight. 

Mammon talked to you like you were still human. He treated like his human.

But he also acted like you would break at any second. He had never been so careful in his life.

He honestly cried on the third day, worried you might be stuck as a sheep. He didn’t know what to do.

Of course, you were turned back by that evening. Solomon had dropped by to check in and the potion naturally wore off.

Mammon hugged you so tight you felt like you were being suffocated.

But he was back to normal the second Solomon joked that he wanted to get paid for his efforts.

Levi:

Once Solomon was able to get into his bedroom, Levi just about fainted at the sight of you.

He wasn’t even skeptical about this.

It was just like the anime “Help I’ve Accidentally Been Turned Into a Sheep and Now I’m Stuck!”. Literally, just like the anime! 

You needn’t worry about anyone trying anything with you while Solomon worked to turn you back, it wasn’t like you would be leaving Levi’s room very much.

You were in his lap almost 24/7 save for when you needed food or to go to the bathroom. Or he needed to do the same. 

His room was a fortress so you were pretty much safe. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you got to spend quite that much time with your otaku. He could be difficult at times, especially when he was playing a game.

You actually relished the time spent as a sheep because of it.

Levi was not-so-secretly getting more and more anxious though. 

He saw the anime! He made you watch it with him in one sitting, too! What if this turned out just like the anime and you never turned back into a human?

The main character in the anime was a sheep for an entire YEAR!

If he had a soul it would have left his body at the very thought.

By the end of the third day you could tell he was totally falling apart.

His partner was a sheep. Probably forever.

With a poof of pink smoke you were human again.

And Levi unconscious because, for some reason, you turned human and had no clothes on.

You just put on some of his clothes for the time being and called Solomon.

You caught a glimpse in the mirror as you were on the phone and told him to keep working on that reversal potion.

You still had sheep fluff for hair, horns, and sheep ears...

Satan:

If looks could kill then Solomon would have been dead where he stood.

The sin of wrath was so pissed off that there was an evil, menacing aura radiating from him.

And it was directed solely at Solomon.

“I don’t even want you working on a way to turn them back. You might be a great sorcerer but I’m going to do this myself.”

He snatched you away and slammed the door in the sorcerer’s face.

No one tried to bother him as he stormed back to his room. 

“I promise I’m going to turn you back, MC.”

He poured over his books and had you give him the potion you had been making. You had to tell every single detail you could remember of what happened leading up to your transformation.

But he didn’t only focus on turning you back.

He couldn’t neglect you being in the room with him. You still brought out the calm within him and made him feel at ease.

When you insisted he take breaks, he would make some tea and give you a straw so you didn’t get tea in your wool.

Like he usually did, he read to you when you wanted to go to sleep. It was even more relaxing holding a warm ball of fluff.

But he barely slept.

He had to figure out a way to turn his favorite person back to normal.

You were still you, no doubt about that, but he missed you being a person. Someone he could kiss and hold hands with. Someone he didn’t have to worry about accidentally crushing or losing because you were so small.

He finally figured it out. He studied your potion recipe for hours on end until he figured out what went wrong. You had been given a recipe that had been “mislabeled”.

Knowing that made it a cinch to turn you back within the hour.

Now to murder the dodgy sorcerer who gave you the recipe for class to begin with.

Asmo:

“Whaaaaaat? MC? A sheep? Oh, darling, you are so cute! And so soft!!”

He canonically loves cute things (did you read the Devilgram story about him taking care of bunnies?) so he was having the time of his life.

And then it hit him as soon as Solomon laughed.

He couldn’t go out on dates with you. He couldn’t kiss you. Or see your stunning face. Your voice wasn’t the same. 

Solomon promised to do what he could to fix this, but it could take a few days.

Did he spend the next hour crying and hugging your fluffy body? Yes, yes he did.

You got him calmed down, reassuring him that it was temporary and there were some perks. He would totally get lots of attention on Devilgram if he posted your pictures! You were pink, his favorite color! You had lots of soft wool he could brush and he could paint your tiny sheep hooves!

That perked him right up.

He spent the next several hours styling your wool, somehow managing to put braids in it. He gave you cute decorative pieces to wear in your wool, painted your hooves to match his nails, and even gave you a little bowtie!

And boy did his Devilgram blow up with attention at the sight of your pictures.

You even inspired his newest clothing designs! Clothing for pets! Devildom didn’t have a cute variety of pet clothes, and while you weren’t a pet, you were very inspiring to look at.

Even pets deserved to look beautiful!

You were so soft to snuggle with but nighttime really made him miss you. Even in an innocent way, he missed skin-to-skin cuddling. It was always so reassuring.

But he didn’t have that.

He managed to get through the days that went by before Solomon finally turned you back.

And he was beginning to wonder if Solomon had drawn out your time as a sheep on purpose.

That didn’t matter, though. Not when he had to take you out on a date!

Beel:

Solomon was holding something soft and fluffy. Was it food? Cotton candy? It looked really sweet and tasty.

“Beel, no, it’s me!”

“MC...?”

He wasn’t happy once the situation was explained. But he didn’t show it. To be fair, he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive of his emotions unless it was necessary.

With Solomon’s promise to return you to normal, he just carried you back to the kitchen with him.

But he wasn’t hungry anymore. Not when his dear human was in a new and unusual form.

It caused him to go into a bit of a crisis, though.

What did sheep eat? What could YOU eat? You were a human in a sheep’s body after all. Did you have to eat what sheep ate or could you still eat your favorite things?

He sat there, staring at the cupboards and fridge, with the most worried look on his face.

To be fair, you weren’t sure either.

And you two stayed liked that until Satan said you could still eat whatever you liked, though it would be best to avoid meat unless it was basically shredded. 

Then came Beel’s next huge crisis: he was terrified of crushing you!

You were so tiny and delicate now, even more fragile than when you were a human.

It took a little convincing but Beel took to carrying you literally everywhere you wanted to go. He loved how soft you were.

Though you didn’t like how often he drooled on you because your fluff looked too tasty. You promised to get him cotton candy once you were a human again, which kind of helped the situation.

Beel even made sure to make everything you ate easy on you! He didn’t want anything to be hurtful to your little sheep body or hard for you to eat!

He didn’t hesitate to help you drink the reversal potion once Solomon got it made, holding his breath until he saw you in your proper state again.

He could breathe easy again. 

Belphie:

What was Solomon carrying? A new pillow or something?

It looked so soft and like it would be a perfect napping pillow.

He wasn’t even listening to anything Solomon had to say, the explanation going in one ear and out the other.

He was focused on going inside to use the new pillow.

Until he heard you talking to him after Solomon had given up on explaining anything.

Now he was mildly concerned. You weren’t you anymore. You were a sheep. He actually listened as you told him your story, unlike with Solomon, and he merely shrugged.

“Well, what can you do? You’ll be normal again eventually.”

You knew your grumpy demon, though. He was worried about you. But Belphie was never good at showing his worry for others unless it was drastic.

True to form, he passed out once he laid down again. You were held against him as if you might disappear while he slept.

It was all the more proof he was worried about your situation.

He still slept most of the time, he was like a cat in that he slept for hours without moving. You had to wiggle free to do anything. No one wanted to wake up to a sheep smelling like piss and you didn’t want a bath.

Belphie whined that taking care of you as a sheep was too much work, but the moment anyone tried to take you from him he immediately got defensive. He even threatened to break Mammon’s hands.

The only one he trusted with you was Beel.

Always sleeping holding your little sheep self did make him realize he wanted a stuffed animal version of you just like that.

It was so nice to snuggle with.

But he missed the normal you. He wanted to have you to lay on or go “star” gazing with. He wanted to do things with you again that weren’t quite possible with you as a sheep.

So he may have gone to find Solomon and threaten him if he didn’t turn you back quicker.

It was all for naught, as he came home to find you curled up in his bed in your human form once again.

He’d wake you up later. For now, he wanted to take another nap with you.

[writeyouin]

Hi there, can I request a headcannon list for tfp ratchet? Something where Reader, who is usually very easy going and wears a smile on their face is one day very quiet, only for Ratchet to find out that their family is practically estranged from them when they found out that they're gay. ty for your work!

Transformers Prime / Reader Insert – Family

A/N – Hey, so this got pretty angsty and bittersweet. I just hope that all of you know that being gay is great. It can be so difficult to be proud when someone doesn’t accept you, but I promise that the world gets better, especially when you find other supportive people. Friends are the family we choose for ourselves, and I hope that message stays with all of us.

Warnings – Angst.

Rating – T

For once, Ratchet found himself able to work peacefully in the base. The other Autobots were out on various missions. Jack, Miko and Raf were in school. Agent Fowler was at his own official place of work, and you had gone straight to the archives room as soon as you had entered the base.

‘Yes,’ Ratchet thought, satisfied. ‘All is quiet.’

It took him a long time to turn his processor to you. While it wasn’t unusual for you to go about your own business, it was certainly out of character for you to pay so little heed to Ratchet.

Sure, you always let him work when he was busy, but you also always greeted him with a smile, pestering him until you got one in return.

Ratchet couldn’t remember a day when you hadn’t told him not to be such a sour-puss, or sang his name until he paid you heed. Out of the humans, you were his partner, helping him in many a scientific task, once he had taught you what to do.

You joked, you sang, you danced, and you laughed. So, what had changed today?

Yes, Ratchet had found that he was able to work better in the peace and quiet that had befallen the base, but was there such a thing as it being too quiet?

“Bah,” Ratchet grumbled. He was over-reacting.

You couldn’t always be the easy-going, happy-go-lucky person who radiated warmth and life throughout the base. There had to be a limit to your seemingly endless supply of energy. Reassured in his conclusions, Ratchet got back to work. You would come to see him when you were ready to, and probably with some data from the archives that he needed.

Hours later, when Ratchet was sure that he was close to a breakthrough in his research, he found that he had hit something of a mental block. On the rare occasions when that happened, you were always there to talk him through his problems, or listen to him rant until he figured out what he was missing. It seemed that you always had a way of sensing his troubles.

Ratchet waited to hear your voice, but he was met with only silence. There had been a time when he worked alone, needing no such reassurances from anyone, but that time was long gone. The simple fact of the matter was that he needed your seemingly endless supply of positivity to spur him on.

Muttering to himself in a way that only those with old souls do, Ratchet left his work console in search of you.

“(Y/N), do you have a minute?” He called, upon distractedly entering the archive room. “I need to bounce some ideas off you.”

You stared up at Ratchet with hollow eyes. Ratchet had seen every emotion possible in his fellow Cybertronians. He knew sadness, guilt, despair, anger, resentment, and longing. As a medic, it was his job to heal the mind as well as the body. He had sworn an oath to help those in need where he could, and clearly, you needed his help now.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Ratchet said, getting straight to the point; he never wasted time beating around the bush where people’s health was concerned.

“Hm? It’s nothing,” You answered in a dull monotone that didn’t suit you.

“Don’t lie,” Ratchet reprimanded.

You looked to the ground sadly, making Ratchet feel somewhat guilty that he hadn’t spent more time adopting a soothing tone. Still, it was too late for pleasantries now, so instead he waited for you to speak.

When it became apparent that you weren’t going to answer him, Ratchet spoke again.

“You can tell me now, or you can tell me later. Either way, neither of us are leaving this room until you talk. Clearly something is bothering you, so you may as well get it over with now.”

You knew that Ratchet wouldn’t really hold you verbally hostage against your will. If you told him that you weren’t ready to talk about what was bothering you yet, he would leave you be. Still, you didn’t want him to worry over you, nor did you want him to treat you like you were made of glass, afraid to say or do anything that might upset you.

“I’m just having a hard time right now… With my family,” You admitted.

Ratchet considered your statement momentarily. Cybertronians rarely had problems with so called ‘family.’ While all Cybertronians had creators, it didn’t seem to hold the same weight as the title of parent. Besides that, the few Cybertronians that did have family by Earth definitions were usually estranged from them, or their relatives were dead. Ratchet had a nephew, Medix, out in the galaxy somewhere, but he had not seen the young bot for quite some time.

Humans, he had learned, had strong familial bonds where possible. Ratchet wasn’t sure that he had the cultural understanding to help with whatever was troubling you; however, perhaps just the simple act of listening would alleviate your troubles.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asked.

You swallowed your fears, wondering exactly where you should start. Although you knew that Ratchet would not judge you for whatever you might say, your irrational mind reminded you of your previous rejection, injecting you with fear that it would happen again.

“I…” You began, closing your eyes against tears that threatened to spill. “My family don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Why?” Ratchet demanded, offended on your behalf. You were wonderful, positive, intelligent, and caring. What cause could they possibly have for abandoning you?

There was a time that Ratchet believed that Miko was estranged from her family, but it turned out that they simply wanted what was best for her, and they thought the answer to that lay in America. All the same, sometimes the girl would take the ground-bridge to Japan, so she could watch her parents through the windows of their familial home; it was the only time that she was ever sombre.

Ratchet instantly knew from your tone that this wasn’t the same.

“Don’t worry about this, Ratchet,” You told him, courage abandoning you when faced with telling him of your troubles.

One stern look from Ratchet told you that this issue wasn’t going to be dropped. You loved that he cared for you enough to ask about this, yet you also hated it. There was a time that you felt that you could tell your family anything, and it had cost you everything; you would be remiss to make the same mistake again.

However, pinned by Ratchet’s penetrating gaze, you felt obliged to continue with your story, explaining what had happened.

“Three years ago today, my family stopped talking to me… I just get sad around this time when I think of it.”

“(Y/N), please tell me what happened between you and your family.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your arm, your voice cracking when you next spoke, “They don’t want me because I’m gay.”

Gay? Ratchet searched his memory banks for a brief conversation he’d had with Jack. Gay was the term humans used for attraction to the same gender. He remembered that humans had this primitive idea, usually based on perversions of religious texts, that attraction to the same gender was shameful, disgusting, or dangerous.

Anger flared inside Ratchet’s processor. Both as a medical professional, and your friend, he wanted nothing more than to give your family the telling off that they deserved. However, as good as that would make him feel, this wasn’t about him, nor would it help the situation.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” Ratchet said resolutely, showing support in his unwavering stubbornness. “And your family are foolish for thinking so. I hope one day they get their heads out of their afts long enough to see what a wonderful person you have grown to be, and when that day comes, they had better beg your forgiveness.”

Although those weren’t traditional words of comfort that Ratchet was offering you, you knew that he was doing his best.

“Thanks, Ratchet,” You murmured. “I hope so too.”

“Well…” He hummed, clearly unsure of where to go from here. “Would you like to help me with my research?”

You smiled sadly, “If it’s all the same to you, do you mind if I have a little alone time today?”

“Of course,” Ratchet nodded. He was about to leave when he thought of one more thing that had to be said. “Cybertronians know little of family matters. That being said, the other Autobots and I are honoured to have you as a part of ours.”

“Thank you, I needed that.”

Ratchet gave a sympathetic smile, leaving you in the archive room and vowing to check on you again before you left.

[five-rivers]

What Was Bound, What Was Loosed Chapter 3

Written for Dannymay Day 6: Core.

.

Ellie took to spending her days in the palace library.

Danny thought he was trapped. Believed he was trapped. So did everyone else. But Ellie didn’t believe it. All cages had keys. Danny had opened hers. It was only right that she return the favor.

(Of course, she wasn’t happy about being stuck herself. There were still things she wanted to see on Earth. She missed the stars.)

The books were old and new. Some were in English, others were in languages she couldn’t even begin to recognize. Most of them had nothing to do with what she was looking for. Like in any library, they were on a wide variety of subjects, all spread out.

Still, she searched. The stack of tomes that had to do with ghostly kingship and the laws of the Infinite Realms grew progressively larger. Occasionally, one of the shades would attempt to put the books back, but they were easily dissuaded, having no will of their own.

She was making progress. Not a lot, but some. Enough to keep her going.

.

Vlad knew when to quit.

Oh, maybe it didn’t seem like it, he was easily as obsessive as any ghost, but he did. Sometimes, a plan just wasn’t feasible, and he had to cut his losses.

Cutting his losses, in this case, meant getting incredibly drunk on ghost wine. Fright Knight didn’t approve, but who cared what he thought? Fright Knight was part of the reason he was in this situation in the first place!

If he had just been warned this would happen, he’d have been able to make arrangements, to find some way to keep his portal open, or to stay in the human world, where his life was.

But no. They were all trapped here. No way out.

When hundreds of ghosts all said the same thing, Vlad was inclined to believe them. Danielle, as motivated as she was, was simply experiencing denial. Or, perhaps, bargaining. He had to admit he was never exactly clear on the stages of grief.

Then, there was Daniel, who seemed to be firmly trapped in the ‘depression’ stage, more of a ghost than Vlad had ever seen him as. He lingered in corners, at the edge of Vlad’s vision, quiet, sad, always flanked by Fright Knight and that other ghost, the one with the clocks.

There were parts of him, his Obsession reasserting itself, that yearned to reach out to Danny, but… He didn’t even know how to begin.

.

Danny felt like a pale, wandering shadow of himself.

Most of the time, he slept, exhausted by the demands the Zone made on him and the continuing changes he was undergoing. The expanding circle of vitality, of rejuvenation, of reconstruction and growth, that so many ghosts were celebrating had to draw energy from somewhere, after all, and even though Danny was absorbing just as much as he was expending, that process made him drowsy in and of itself.

Pain, too, plagued him. His missing eye ached, and sometimes it seemed as if the crown was burrowing into his skull, not merely resting on it. His hand hurt from all his attempts to take off the ring.

He could hardly care for himself in even the most basic of ways. Clockwork often had to remind him, or help him, and he was always so excruciatingly gentle.

Then Vlad and Ellie came.

Their arrival was a relief. Ellie was a friend, was family, and hadn’t been complicit in his betrayal and binding. Vlad had been an enemy, and not even an honest one at that, but essentially everything they’d been at odds over was moot, but he was familiar.

Despite the relief, despite his desire to connect with people who hadn’t hurt him, at least not as badly as everyone else, he hung back. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to bridge the gap.

So, he lurked and lingered. When Ellie went to the library, when Vlad moped and bothered the shades that ordered the kitchen, he followed, he watched.

Clockwork and Fright Knight, of course, followed and watched him in turn.

At least, this is what happened when he was awake and aware enough to do anything. Danny was under the impression that being awake and independently mobile at all this soon after being… coronated… was unusual, perhaps even unnerving. Normally, he’d be curious, excited about new abilities and what they might mean. Maybe he’d even throw around a quip or two about how awesome he was but…

It wasn’t the time, and he didn’t have the willpower to reach for even that dubious coping mechanism.

In the too-numerous times when Danny was both awake and not well enough to follow Ellie and Vlad around, he liked to sit in the garden. It was almost peaceful there, by the fountain, although the plants had a distressing tendency to reflect his every change in mood.

Today was one of those days. He was too dizzy and lightheaded to drift after Vlad or Ellie, even if neither of them moved very much, but he didn’t want to stay in the bedroom, or, worse, the throne room. His core seemed to pulse, sluggish and painful in his chest. Or perhaps that was his heart. He couldn’t really tell with this mixed-up form. It could even be both.

Another slow wave of transformation swept out from him, making his extremities tingle. He watched, tiredly, as it briefly interacted with the walls of the palace and the scattered shades before moving on. The shades… another aspect of all this that Danny wasn’t comfortable with, but couldn’t bring himself to learn more about. They were sustained through his power, but what were they? Extensions of his will? Aspects of his personality? Constructs generated by the palace? By the Ghost Zone itself? He didn’t know.

As much as he should try to learn, he couldn’t help but think of them as yet another imposition, another burden he was being forced to bear.

This wasn’t a healthy mindset. Jazz would tell him as much. Jazz wasn’t here.

“Danny!”

He looked up, his one eye already searching for Ellie. Fright Knight stepped forward, as if to protect him, but Danny snarled at him, annoyed. He wasn’t going to let him get in between him and one of the few people he could currently stand. Clockwork stayed back, passive, but he looked… worried. Uneasy. As if anticipating a disaster.

“Danny!” exclaimed Ellie again, bursting from a bush, a thick book raised above her head. “I found it!”

“Found what?” asked Danny, leaning forward slightly as Ellie joined him sitting on the edge of the fountain.

“A way out!” She opened the book and started flipping through it, obviously looking for a specific entry.

Both Clockwork and Fright Knight looked extremely tense, now. They probably didn’t want him to find this, didn’t want him to leave. Would they try to stop him?

He hunched his shoulders. He might not be well, but he could fight and make it hurt.

“Here!” said Ellie, triumphantly. “Look at this.” She tapped a picture of a bright, spherical object.

“The core of the Infinite Realms?” asked Danny, reading the legend of the picture.

“Uh huh. Apparently, it’s what determines what the Ghost Zone is like as a whole and controls the rules and laws and stuff. Like, even when it comes to what ghosts act like, and what they can physically do, or how the Ghost Zone’s physics behave. But the important part is that you can go talk to it and petition it and stuff, and sometimes it’ll listen. I bet we can get it to listen to you and make it so that the Ghost Zone doesn’t need a king anymore.”

Danny felt a flutter of hope. The book was old from what he could see, and, ignoring Ellie’s paraphrasing, the language was fantastical and couched in metaphor, but still if there was a possibility…

Near their feet, small, bright flowers began to bloom, each no larger than the head of a pin.

“Daniel,” said Clockwork, in a careful, soft tone. It wasn’t pity, not quite, but it was the verbal equivalent of being handled with kid gloves. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Then what is it like?” asked Danny, hunching his shoulders and leaning protectively over Ellie.

“What do you think the King of the Infinite Realms is?” asked Clockwork.

Danny shrugged. Clockwork gave him a small, pained smile.

“The King of Ghosts and the core of the Ghost Zone,” said Clockwork, “they’re the same.”

Danny shook his head, unwilling to let this scrap of hope slip through his fingers so easily.

“Please, Daniel,” said Clockwork. “Why do you think it was so vital that you be crowned? The Realms cannot exist without their core.”

It made sense. A horrible, horrible sense.

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Ellie. “The core’s supposed to be the basis the whole Zone is built on. That can’t just be one person.”

“The library has some books on the subject,” said Clockwork. “But you can see how Daniel is changing things.”

Danny felt his hope collapse and doubled over, hands on his head, face almost touching his legs. A scream bubbled up in his throat, but he swallowed it. All those people, everywhere, his responsibility, his… Not just the people, everything. Everywhere. Not just his responsibility, but relying on him, modeled on him, dependent on him, centered on him.

He wasn’t just the Ghost Zone’s ruler, nominal or not, he was its heart.

“Danny?” asked Ellie. He looked up.

There were blast lines in the ground, radiating away from him. The fountain was cracked and leaking water. Fright Knight had, evidently, grabbed Ellie and leaped away, into the air.

Clockwork hadn’t left, still leaning towards Danny. There was a jagged, dripping slice across his shoulder. Danny gasped, reaching towards him.

“It’s alright,” said Clockwork. “It’s alright.”

“I can’t be,” said Danny. “I can’t be. I’m—I can’t be part of the Ghost Zone. Not—Not like that. That’s not—I can’t be what the Ghost Zone is built on, it doesn’t make sense, I…”

“It’s alright,” repeated Clockwork. “Would you like to go inside? You may feel better if you eat something.”

“Don’t want to bother Vlad,” mumbled Danny. Didn’t want another person to see him crumbling like this.

“We can send something up to your room,” said Clockwork.

He did feel tired. The fountain was repairing itself behind and underneath him. He groaned as the ground beneath him pulled together as well.

“I don’t want to be the core of the Ghost Zone,” he said, knowing that what he wanted was not and never had been a consideration. “I don’t want to be king. I don’t want to be in charge of anything.” He grabbed the edges of Clockwork’s robe, ignoring the moisture despite the pang of guilt it brought him. “I want to go home. And I…” His words failed as he reached for Clockwork’s injury. “I don’t want to do this.”

“This is nothing, Daniel,” putting a gloved hand over the wound. “I have had far worse.”

It started to rain. Great, heavy droplets of water tainted with just enough ectoplasm to glow.

It was one way to hide tears, he supposed.

[is-it-art-tho]

This is Chapter 9!

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

Summary: Dick begins the healing process.

By all accounts, Dick should not have survived.

That was what he gleaned from murmured conversations between nurses and snippets of news coverage. His medical records had filled in some blanks, too.

Concussion, multiple fractures, internal hemorrhaging, lacerations, cardiac arrest.

Cardiac arrest. The words had played on a loop in his head ever since his doctor had first said them, and even now Dick couldn’t quite make any sense of it.

The doctor had smiled at him afterwards, informed him of how lucky he was to be alive. “Usually when someone goes into cardiac arrest in the field, they don’t even make it to the hospital,” she’d said. “Good thing Batman was there, huh?”

“Batman?”

“Mhm. EMTs saw him. He must have been doing CPR before they got there.”

“Hm,” was all Dick had offered in response, but internally he had clung to those minor details like a drowning man grasping at driftwood.

The majority of that night was lost to him. Listening to the news helped somewhat, but reporters only knew so much. And none of the others – Barbara, Tim, any of them – had been very forthcoming, either.

Dick hadn’t pressed, though. The haunted look in their eyes whenever they came to visit him in the hospital had been enough for him to decide never to bring that night up again. He already hated that he might have inadvertently become added fodder for future nightmares; no need to throw gas on the fire.

He could live with not-knowing what had happened if it meant keeping them from reliving it.

“Richard?”

The young voice dragged Dick’s gaze away from the curtains he’d been staring at to the doorway. He’d been back at the manor for nearly two days now, in bed mostly, and in that time he had yet to see Damian except for the ride back from the hospital.

Now the boy was standing at the threshold with a tea service in his hands, his mouth curled in an uncertain frown. “Am I… interrupting?”

Dick smirked and made a show of looking around the empty bedroom. “Yeah. I’m pretty swamped here, as you can see.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I know, but it was a dumb question, anyway. You know you’re never interrupting, Damian. C’mon.” Dick waved him in with a jerk of his chin then froze and winced as a jolt of pain shot up his spine and into his head.

Damian entered stiffly and set the tray on the bedside table, shoving aside pill bottles and a glass of water.

“Damian?” Dick asked after what felt like a long pause. Damian’s eyes were locked on the tea set, his face scrunched in a way that made him look nervous and uncomfortable and young.

Dick reached out with his good hand and tugged on the boy’s sleeve. “Hey, you okay?”

“Of course, I am,” Damian snapped, pulling his arm out of reach. He scowled at a bookshelf. “Drake is having a difficult time.”

“Tim?” Dick tried to push himself more upright and quickly aborted that mission with a hiss when he felt a sharp tug at the sutures across his abdomen. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“He blames himself for what happened. For not locating you sooner.”

“He told you that?”

“I overheard him talking to Stephanie.”

“Aw, Tim.” Tim had been noticeably distant, it was true, but Dick had interpreted it as general anxiety about the whole situation. Never in a million years would he have guessed that Tim had managed to convince himself this was his fault.

Damian muttered something, hands now shoved into his pockets.

“What?”

“I said he is a fool. To act as if he is the one who…” Damian swallowed hard, glowering at the carpet.

Birds were gathering and chirping in a bush by the open window, and though the curtains were drawn to protect Dick’s concussed brain from harsh light, hazy beams still found their way in, spilling across the floor and along the foot of the bed.

“He is not the one to blame,” Damian finished.

“No one is.” Dick couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or his injuries that were making this conversation so hard to follow, but he felt like he was missing something, straggling two steps behind. “At least, not any of you.”

Damian looked at him with open disbelief. “I failed you, Richard. If not for my ineptitude, you wouldn’t have– I should have gone with you when you left that night. None of this would have happened if I had just–”

“Stop.” Dick had meant it to be firm, but the word sounded more like a plea. His head was really pounding now, and keeping the pain out of his voice was becoming increasingly difficult. “You can’t let yourself start doing that or else you’ll never stop. It was a freakish, sucky thing that none of us could have anticipated and therefore probably couldn’t have avoided, either. And yeah, maybe if you had been there it wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe something worse would’ve happened instead. We don’t know and we never will, but what I do know is that you did the best you could in the moment.”

“And it was not good enough.”

“Damian–”

“It is my job to be good enough,” Damian maintained. “If I can’t protect you then…” He let the rest go unsaid, his lips pressing together as his eyes glistened. “I am supposed to be able to protect you.”

Oh. So that’s what this was about.

“Damian,” Dick tried again, and what was meant to be a sigh turned into a low groan as his ribs refused to cooperate.

Damian tensed, wide-eyed.

“We’re good. I’m okay,” Dick promised before the boy could sound the alarms. Then, “I’m not Batman anymore, Damian. You’re not my Robin. You don’t have to put that kind of pressure on yourself.”

And again, Damian gave him a look like Dick still just wasn’t getting it, like he missing something glaring and obvious and not worth explaining except to say, “Yes, I do, Richard.”

Dick started to say something, but Damian continued, “You are saying that excessive self-reproach is counter-productive. I understand the sentiment. And I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He turned to the tea service and begin pouring a cup, his entire demeanor changed, suddenly casual . “How is your pain?”

“I…” Dick paused, once again feeling off balance and too slow as the tone and subject of the discussion switched so suddenly. “A four.”

“So, a seven,” Damian deduced, taking one of the pill bottles from the nightstand and opening it after checking the label. “Alfred said if it is above a five then you are to take two of these.”

Dick considered fighting him on this, reluctant to lose the rest of the morning to a drug-fueled haze, but the pulsing ache beneath his skull and the one radiating through his ribs made it difficult. He let Damian tip the capsules into his open palm and threw them back without complaint.

“You got anything planned this morning?” Dick asked, accepting the cup the tea Damian held out.

“Nothing important.”

“Great.” Dick reached across his chest with his good arm to pat the open space in the bed beside him.

After a brief hesitation, Damian circled the mattress and climbed in, his movements so careful that Dick hardly jostled at all.

“What language are you on right now?” Dick asked, settling back into the pillows. It might have been psychosomatic, but already he was feeling drowsy.

“Hungarian.”

“Huh. What happened to Korean?”

“Too easy. I finished that a week ago,” Damian said dismissively, though there was a self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

Dick chuckled. “Show-off. How far along are you?”

“More or less conversational.”

“Nice.” Dick’s eyes were closed now. “Show me something.”

“I am not circus monkey, Richard.”

“Y’know, I grew up in the circus,” Dick mumbled. “The monkeys were my favorite. Miss those little guys.”

He thought he heard Damian sigh – or maybe it was a laugh – before the boy asked, “What do you want to hear?”

“That song Bruce hums all the time. The one he sings when he thinks he’s alone. What’s it called?”

Damian’s voice sounded muffled and far away when he answered, “Am I Blue.”

“Yeah. That.”

Damian cleared his throat and began to recite the lyrics in near-perfect Hungarian. He paused occasionally to search for a word, at times reversing to correct a conjugation before moving on.

Dick was almost completely gone now. The bed had fallen away, and he felt like he was floating through the air with Damian’s voice as a welcome backdrop.

He didn’t notice the quiet chatter had stopped until Damian asked, “Richard?”

“Mm…?”

“You’re not just Batman to me. I mean, that is not why I feel responsible for your wellbeing.”

“’Kay. Y’too…”

After a brief pause, the gentle half-singing began again, and Dick slipped away on the familiar melody.

______________

All of the lights were off in the den when Alfred breezed in with a tray of hot chocolate just as A Charlie Brown Christmas began on the TV. Cass and Stephanie’s arms sprang up from their spots on the floor like weeds, and he placed mugs in their waiting hands before circling around to the others. Tim, curled up on the sofa, accepted his with a muttered thanks without looking up from his phone. Bruce took one for himself and one for Damian who was smushed into his side, mouth hanging open in dead sleep. When Alfred got to where Barbara and Dick were sharing a blanket on the couch, he smiled and set their mugs on the end table.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick whispered, glancing over at Barbara’s head on his shoulder to find that she had fallen asleep.

“Of course,” Alfred said. He set the tray aside and took a seat in a nearby chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Dick answered, perhaps a bit too quickly because Alfred raised a dubious eyebrow at him.

“Honest,” he added with a rueful grin.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

They sat in silence for a while, the only noise coming from the TV and hushed laughter and whispers between Cassandra and Stephanie on the floor.

The air was thick with the ghost of Thanksgiving dinner and fresh hot chocolate, creating a warm bouquet that was at once comforting and nostalgic. Bruce had a faint smile on his face as he watched the movie, colors and lights splashing across his face. He had one arm draped over Damian’s small frame as if holding him there.

At some point, Tim had stowed his phone and turned so that his legs dangled off the armrest and he could see the screen better, hot chocolate clutched between his hands.

It was one of those admittedly rare moments where there was no clock ticking anywhere in the background. There was work to be done, for sure, but it was not a looming obligation. Tonight, the city for once was quiet. Dick couldn’t remember the last time he had passed an uninterrupted holiday in this house.

“Something is on your mind,” Alfred noted, taking a small sip from his mug.

“I was just thinking about today.”

“Nothing short of a miracle,” the older man said, instantly understanding.

“No kidding. It almost feels suspicious. Like the calm before the–”

“Don’t,” he said firmly, his face illuminated just enough by the TV for Dick to register the stern frown there. “I will not allow you to sully this gift with your dark premonitions. Just enjoy this for what it is: a welcome and much needed respite after the events of the past few weeks.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Dick conceded, cringing a little in self-reproach. “Sorry, Al.”

The old man nodded, his face softening. “Now, would you mind telling me what is actually on your mind?”

Dick let out a breathy, half-hearted laugh. “You’re good.”

“I am indeed.”

With a sigh, he looked toward the TV. A Black Friday commercial was advertising half-priced gaming systems.

“Hey,” Tim whispered, waving his arm at Stephanie.

“What?”

“Get me that.” He pointed at the commercial, and Stephanie scoffed at him before resuming her muted conversation with Cass. After a few days and a much-needed conversation, Dick was happy to see Tim back to his normal self.

“It’s been a while,” he admitted now, returning his attention to Alfred who was watching him patiently, “since I’ve heard from Jason. Over a month, actually. Not the longest we’ve gone without speaking, but it’s the longest in a while.”

The cup paused halfway to Alfred’s mouth, his brow creasing. “Over a month?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighed. “We went on patrol together in October and things got a little rough. I said some stuff and we haven’t spoken since. I’m not even sure he’s still in the city.”

When Alfred continued to look at him, Dick asked, “What?”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how has your memory been as of late?”

Dick adjusted himself, gingerly repositioning Barbara’s head on his shoulder when he felt her beginning to slide off. “Fine now. I can’t remember much of that night. Or, pretty much anything, really. But otherwise I’m all right. Why?”

“And the others? What have they told you?”

“About what happened? I haven’t asked. I didn’t want to... Well, you know.”

“Indeed,” Alfred said with a somber nod, setting down his mug. “It is a night, or a week, rather, that I’m certain we would all like to leave firmly in the past. But even so, I believe there are at least a few details that you ought to know.”

[ao3bronte]

when chaos reigns [the sirens come to play]

A Merman AU. (Rated T with some suggestive language.) Now on AO3! READ PROLOGUE - PART 2 HERE!

[Part 3]

Covid-19 forced a lot of people to stay stuck in their homes until they inevitably went mad and uploaded cringe videos of themselves dancing to Blinding Lights on TikTok. But Adrien Agreste, having been unable to leave his underwater ivory tower since the mysterious disappearance of his mother, really doesn’t know any different. 

“Final question. Who was the fifth king of the Sea of Okhotsk?”

Slumped against his seagrass cushion, Adrien sighs into his palm. “The Sea of Okhotsk doesn’t have a king. They have clans and elders.”

“Excellent,” Nathalie Sancoeur responds, wordlessly motioning for him to stop slouching. “I think that concludes political history for this evening. Onto diplomacy—”

“Can you give me a minute?” Adrien tries not to give away his intentions as he glances through a porthole. “I think Father is home and I’d like to greet him.”

Nathalie raises a brow. “He won’t change his mind, you know.”

“Didn't we just talk about erosion?” With a firm flick of his tail, Adrien makes his way towards his usually barred bedroom door. “It works on rocks, so why can’t it work on him?”

“Your father is not a rock, Adrien.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Adrien murmurs under his breath, leaving anyway. He snakes his way through the narrow halls of his palatial home towards Father’s atelier and hopes he doesn’t miss him; he rarely sees Father at all these days...sometimes it feels like Adrien hardly knows him at all.

Especially when he’d announced that Adrien was going to mate with his betrothed, whether he liked it or not!

“Good afternoon, Father.” Adrien straightens and bows his head in greeting, swallowing painfully as his father peers down at him from his pedestal. “I’m thankful that you made it back home safely.”

His father sighs. “If you’re here to argue with me once again—”

“But Father!”

“You are NOT getting out of this arrangement! I already told you!”

“Please, Father. Hear me out—”

“I have no intention of letting you leave this kingdom,” his father rages, slashing his hand through the water with enough force to shake the entire structure around them. “Everything you need is right here where I can keep an eye on you. I will not have you outside in this dangerous world.”

“It's not dangerous, Father. I'm always stuck in here by myself. Why can't I leave our home? Why can’t I explore the Ligurian Kingdom and make friends just like everyone else?”

“Because you’re not like everyone else! You are my son! You are the heir to my—” his father stops himself and pauses to gather his composure, his eyes ablaze with discontent. “Adrien, the kingdom of the Tyrrhenian Sea is relying on me to unite our families. You don’t want to disappoint an entire kingdom, do you?”

Adrien’s shoulders cave. “No.”

“Then don’t continue to disappoint me. Return to your studies immediately and do not trouble me with this matter again.” His father turns and ushers him away with a shoo of his webbed fingers. “Nathalie, where is the sentimonster you promised for the administrator? M. Damoclès has wronged me for the last time.”

“It will be finished this evening,” Nathalie responds, her fingers gently toying with the enamel brooch hanging from her neck. 

“When I hired you as my assistant, you assured me that you could complete tasks on time.”

“I did.” Nathalie flicks her crimson tail in irritation. “And I will continue to serve your interests in a timely fashion. Is there anything else I can do for you at this time, sir?”

The imposing interim leader of the Ligurian Kingdom simply pinches the bridge of his nose. “That is all. Ensure Adrien’s bedroom is secured immediately. And get on land as soon as possible to finish your spellcasting; I didn’t hire a sea witch for her to rest on her laurels.”

“Of course, your Regency.”

~

“You’re not going to tell on me, are you?”

Nathalie tries not to smirk as her sheepish charge continues to wriggle his way through the barred porthole in his bedroom. “That depends entirely on what you plan on doing with your freedom, providing you can get your dorsal fin uncaught.”

“I’m—” Adrien grunts, desperately trying to shimmy his backside through the stone barricade. “—I want to go back to where you took me before!”

Nathalie quirks an eyebrow as he finally manages to free his dorsal fins and slither outside his bedroom relatively unscathed. “Humans are not to be trifled with.” 

“Says the sea witch who can transform into one!”

“My Miraculous doesn’t exactly work underwater.” Nathalie explains, raising a sculpted brow. “I don’t suppose you plan on visiting the grotto?”

Adrien nods in earnest. “The flowers are out and I wanted to see them again! And there aren’t any humans there, so I’ll be fine!”

Flower pollen, of course, is like catnip to merpeople. One whiff of the stuff and it’s Boogie Nights for anyone with a tail and a propensity for caterwauling sea shanties. 

“Be back by nightfall.” Nathalie tells him, having orchestrated this escape since the very beginning. She watches him swim away as fast as his tail will take him none the wiser, and grazes her nails down the curved edges of her Peacock Miraculous, the likes of which holds the immeasurable magic of a mermaid on a mission that will surely bring the Mediterranean to its knees.

[Part 4]

For all of Marinette’s near compulsive need to prepare for things ahead of time, it can be assumed that she is most definitely not prepared to find a merman scooching his body up on shore like a sea lion and shoving his face into an oleander bush. 

And her screams of shock and horror most certainly confirm it.

“Aaaaaauuugh!!!!!” Marinette, having just crawled through a small cavern to a grotto to investigate the golden gleam, falls flat on her face yet again. “Oh my god! Oh my god!”

The merman, equally as frightened, shrieks and rolls backwards as ungainly as one can when you’ve just been caught shoving your face into an oleander bush. She catches a brief glimpse of his face — speckled and smeared with golden pollen — before he promptly flings himself back into the sea.

Marinette is horrified. Astounded. Dumbfounded! Merpeople are impossible to find and even more impossible to survive! And she just—it was right in front of her! Green and gold and—she saw it! With her very own eyeballs! It was there! Huffing flowers! 

For the second time in almost as many minutes, Marinette sits down and stares dumbly at the waves.

Merpeople kill humans for fun...and she just survived! Holy crap!

Marinette keeps one eye on the watery mouth of the grotto and the other on her surroundings. She never would have spotted the grotto had she not performed the act of becoming a human pancake back out on the main beach; the entrance to this cave is so small and so hidden that Marinette wonders if anyone has ever discovered it before. It’s about the size of a lorry and covered in moss and spindly vines that meander up towards the small window of sunlight at the top. The limestone walls are strangely warm here, radiating heat and spurring the growth of the plants that are blooming as if it were summertime. Even the sand is different here; startlingly white with speckles of black and grey, the tiny shoreline creeps down into a cerulean underground cavern alight with bioluminescence.

It’s magnificent, but she’s not safe here. “Are you still there?”

Marinette nearly enters cardiac arrest when a mop of golden hair suddenly pops up from the vibrant depths. He heard her? Can he understand her?

The merman blinks. “Uhhh… I…”

“Are you waiting for me to leave? Because I can leave,” Marinette says, pointing towards the tiny crevice she’d just crawled through, “But then I’d have to take my eyes off of you and then you could drag me into the ocean and drown me and then my grandmother would be looking all over for me and then the police would have to come here and try to find my dead body and my parents, they’re stuck in Paris because of the coronavirus and—”

“—No, no! I was just trying to—” The merman disappears under the water for a moment, only to emerge at the edge of the beach. “—I didn’t mean to scare you! You scared me!”

Marinette screeches and scurries backwards to create some more distance between them. “How do you know how to speak French?!”

“How do you know how to speak Nereid?”

“I asked you first!”

“Well, I don’t speak French. I speak Nereid!”

“What’s that, merman language?”

“Yeah.” The merman cocks his head. “What’s French? Human language?”

“Well, for some humans, yes.” Marinette crosses her arms across her chest and narrows her eyes. “Wait a minute...are you making fun of me?”

The merman flashes his gleaming set of triangular teeth just long enough for Marinette to notice that he has not just one row of razor-sharp teeth in his mouth, but two. “I wouldn’t dream of causing a commocean.”

Marinette’s nose wrinkles at the pun. “Now you really are making fun of me.”

“I mean, maybe.” The merman winks. “It’s kind of fun seeing you turn pink. Is that a human thing too?”

“I’m not turning pink.” Marinette harrumphs, turning her shoulder away from him. “And humans turn pink because...because they’re warm. I’m just warm, that’s all.”

“It’s probably because of your...” The merman gestures to her raincoat and jeans. “Do you need help getting out of them?”

With all of the poise of a particularly erratic squirrel, Marinette simply splutters. “What?!” 

“Well, you must be trapped in them or you would have taken them off already. We get stuck in your human garbage all the time, it’s awful.” The merman opens his mouth and taps against one of his larger teeth with his fingernail. “Here, I can cut them off for you if you want—”

“You’re not coming anywhere near me with those things!” Marinette recoils, scooching towards the oleander bushes on her bottom. “You could rip me apart!”

“I’m not going to kill you!” The merman exclaims with a huff. “Besides, if I was hungry, I’d have eaten you already!”

Marinette’s eyes nearly bulge out of her skull. “You eat people?!”

“Sometimes.” The merman shrugs as if it’s no big deal, “Haven’t you ever had human fingers before? Crunchy, yet satisfying.”

“No! That’s disgusting!”

The merman’s straight face dissolves into laughter at Marinette’s expression of utter horror. “Now, I’m actually making fun of you!”

“Well, it’s not funny!” Marinette grabs a handful of sand and hurls it at him, dusting his face and hair. He continues to giggle at her expense and Marinette has had just about enough of him. “Stop it!”

“Sorry!” The merman grapples to get himself together. “I just wanted to show you that I’m funny, I swear! I've never really been out on my own before and I've never had friends. It's all sort of new to me.”

“Joking about eating people is not how you make friends,” Marinette grumbles, still keeping a wary eye on the merman before her until the implications of his words catch up with her ears. “Wait, you don’t have any friends? How come?”

“Father doesn’t let me out of my home...ever.” The merman rubs the back of his head nervously. “I kind of escaped to come see the flowers, which is how I met you!”

“Is...is that normal for merpeople?” 

“To come see the flowers? Yeah, we love flowers!”

Marinette shakes her head. “No, I meant the ‘being stuck in your house’ thing. Why don’t you...you know, swim around and, uh...talk to people?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The merman waves her off, looking a little uncomfortable before turning his attention back to her. “What does matter is that we can be friends! Would you like to be friends?” The merman shimmies forwards with excitement and thrusts his hand right under her nose. “I’m Adrien! Pleased to make your aquantance.”

Marinette looks at his outstretched hand and hesitates. “You’re not going to pull me into the water and drown me, are you?”

“I’m not a dolphin, you know, I have manners.” Adrien huffs, hoisting himself further up onto the sand bank. “See? Only my tail fins are in the water now, I couldn’t pull you in even if I tried.”

Marinette carefully reaches out and gently clasps his hand, revelling in the strange texture of his skin. He cups his other hand over hers and she mimics the gesture, smiling a little as he squeezes his fingers and then shakes once before letting go. “There. Now we’re friends!”

“I don’t know about that,” Marinette says, still keeping a wary eye on the merman in front of her. He settles back down on his elbows and Marinette’s eyes are drawn to his chest as he brushes the granules of ivory sand from his sides, his muscles clenching at the movement. “You’re a merman and I’m a human. We aren’t supposed to be friends.”

[NEXT PART]

[farouchelyoptimistic]

HyunJi: Cold Nights

The afternoon sky starts to shift into a darker hue as the day starts to die down. The breeze starts to get colder as it dances through the leaves and bushes, the rustling sound calming and relaxing. The grass blows into different directions, swaying to the playful wind that blows around the high altitude. The symphony of the cricket sounds and the chirping of the birds come into a melodious harmony that delivers a calm to the heart of any listener.

The view from the top of the hill oversees the distant city from below and afar. The lights that powered the cars and the buildings flickered and tangoed looking like magical glitter that gleamed and sparkled. The city was busy and rowdy from within, sometimes even suffocating. But from a significant distance, it looked almost magical and ethereal.

Yea Ji smiled as she hugged herself, rubbing her hands over each of her thin arms as the air gets cooler. She was standing by the edge, watching over the busy city below her. She didn't know she'd enjoy looking at it from afar when she felt otherwise whenever she was within it. Sometimes looking at something from a different angle, from a different perspective, makes you see the beauty you've hardly seen on something existing. She lets out a breath, turning around.

The sight of Soo Hyun releasing a choked cough, followed by a little fall on his behind with his brows furrowed and face crumpled made her laugh. She walks over to him, giggling, a hand over her mouth. He chuckles when she helps him up, pulling on his arm to get him back on his feet.

"Are you sure you can do it?" She asks in a chortle. She eyes the pile of wood he had been trying to light up for the past fifteen minutes.

"Of course. I learned this in the military, I make a mean bonfire." He defends, squatting back on his knees, trying to rearrange the pile. She only chuckles, nodding her head playfully with a smirk on her face. "Uhuh."

Soo Hyun looks up at her, eyeing her. He reaches for her hand and pulls her closer. Reaching for the other one, he places them on either side of his shoulders as she stood behind him. "There." He pats her hands.

"Stay close to me, because you're my lucky charm." He glances up at her before he continues to attempt lighting the firewood. She chuckles, nodding her head, lightly squeezing his shoulders. When the fire finally starts to come alive, she smiles, feeling the warmth.

"There you go!" He proudly clasps his hands, pushing himself up. He turns around and smiles at her, holding her hands to pull her closer, wrapping her arms around his torso. She giggles, looking through his eyes. "See, I told you. You're my lucky charm." He says as he wraps his own arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer, pressing a quick warm kiss on her lips.

He smiles at her, marveling at the sight of her face under the darkening sky. It glowed like the sun that had been slowly setting before them. He was beyond happy, beaming at the moment they are sharing right now. Filming the drama together was a dream come true, fulfilling, and satisfying. Sure, they had spent the majority of it together, taking all of Moon Young ang Gang Tae's scenes, but never like this.

They made it a point to be professional, careful with their interaction with each other. Almost everyone probably knew what they had, but still, they were cautious with the gentle touching and the meaningful exchange of looks. Longing for each other, of course, they had a few slips here and there, touches, glances, gestures that they considered their normal. It made manager Ryu's head ache, following the bts camera like a hawk, especially when they both get too carried away to be wary of the eyes that were on them.

She chuckles as he pulls her closer, his hands rubbing her back. She tilts her head, admiring his face that looked at her with so much love. Her heart warmed. She was happy. So happy. The role she portrayed was difficult and challenging, it made her pull out a whirlwind of emotion. She was prepared for the aftermath, when the drama ended, she readied herself for the rollercoaster of trying to flush Moon Young out of her system. But these past few days, after all the extra work and shoots, she was surprised she had barely had any traces of her character left. She was just herself, happy, a little tired, but definitely happy.

The man in front of her who looked at her like she was the world was mainly the reason. They both took a self-proclaimed 'work break' together, spending most of it with each other. The two years he'd been away at the military had them missing and longing for each other at proportions of extended heights. Now, they were basically together again, with no time limits or restrictions. Now, both of them free, they planned to spend a lot of time together before they both delve into the mountain-high pile of work waiting for them.

They enjoyed their privacy. They loved the serenity and tranquility of spending time with others, trapped in the four walls of either's home. They could sit all day on her couch, watching a movie or just plainly staring out the window, talking and tangled in each other's arms and they'd be ultimately happy. The midnight drives made both of them calm yet ecstatic. The freedom they held as they zoomed through the empty roads while the rest of the city slumbers gave them a certain level of thrill. Ending it with a kiss or two at the side of a road, concealed by the tinted windows was their version of romance at two in the morning. And with its simplicity and worldliness, they found happiness.

"Omo." Soo Hyun turns to the sky before them. As the afternoon dies down, the sky transforms into an interlude of different colors. From a blue to light orange, swiftly transgressing into a hue of yellows then to darker blues and purples until the sun completely vanishes. He holds Yea Ji closer to him as she rests her head on his chest, arms still around him while he takes a photo of the beautiful mid sunset sky with the other hand. He keeps a photo to remember the moment by, so when he sees it again, he'll recall how warm she was in arms. Yea Ji on the other hand embeds the moment in her mind, burying it deep in her memories to have something joyful to remember on days when she'd go deep down her thoughts. To her, the best camera was still her eyes.

"So beautiful." He muses. Yea Ji nods with a hum. She looks up at him only to find out that he was staring at her instead of the sky. She immediately feels the warm rush of blood towards her cheeks, looking away as she giggles. When he raises his phone in front of them, he smiles, tilting his head against hers. After a couple of shots, she presses a warm kiss on his cheek for the last one. The perfect photo only saved for them to admire, hidden from the rest of the world.

"Do we have food?" She asks, playfully raising her eyebrow. He feigns a shocked expression, unleashing the actor in him. She giggles. "Of course." He gently lets go of her, running to the tent they had successfully built an hour ago. He bends in, pulling out a small bag from the inside.

"We have. . ." He pulls out a cup of instant noodles. "Ramyeon." He pulls out another. "Ramyeon." And then grabs a thermos of hot water. "Ramyeon, ramyeon, ramyeon." He lets out a coy smile, wiggling his thick brows, making her burst in laughter. "Kajjima." She muses.

"I made sure I was prepared. That's how much I love you." He says playfully, carefully trying to prepare their food. She only chortles, making a face of fake disbelief. Soo Hyun immediately rides on, acting out his shock. "Waeh? You don't believe me?"

She giggles as she watches him match towards the edge of the hill. Heaving his chest and huffing his breath as he brings his hands around his mouth.

"Saranghae! Seo Yea Ji!" He yells at the top of his lungs. "Saranghae! Sarangh---" Yea Ji laughs as she covers his mouth with her hands, stopping him before someone with superhuman hearing could hear him and figure out it was no other than Kim Soo Hyun's voice. They'd be in our trouble if that happens.

"Kajjima!" She laughs, pressing her palm against his lips. He only laughs, holding her hand. "Waeh?" He innocently asks, eyes wide and nonchalant.

"Someone's going to hear you." She chuckles, but he only smiles. "Ani. Don't worry. I made sure we're safe here. Nobody is going to see nor hear us. It's just you and me against the world." When he makes a heroic stance she only throws her head back and laughed.

"Come on, let's eat ramyeon, ramyeon, ramyeon." He teases as he held her forearm. She chuckles, playfully hitting him.

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the hill, far down, manager Ryu jolts up in his seat at the sound of Soo Hyun's faint yelling. It was barely audible, but he could hear it alright. He grunts, rolling his eyes as he palms his face.

"Ah, chincha. He's driving me crazy." He cranes his neck, looking around outside of his car. Good thing there was nobody around. He had been doing a significant job of trying to keep their relationship a secret. He adored both of them, treated them like his siblings, sometimes even his children. And he understood their desire to keep things hidden, the industry was vicious. But, it made his job a tad more difficult.

He'd been following the bts camera like a vulture waiting for its prey during the entirety of filming. The two were considerably cautious, but there were times that it was massively inevitable for them to get carried away. So as usual, he had to intervene right before the camera catches Yea Ji's gentle acts of concern, or even Soo Hyun's impulsive waist grabbing to lay his claim on his woman in front Daniel Choi. Manager Ryu couldn't help but shake his head at how much jealousy was radiating off of Soo Hyun that day, which of course made his job extra hard that day.

"I can't believe I have to stake out here all night. Good thing those kids are generous." He grumbles as he leans back on his seat, grabbing the pack of snacks Soo Hyun has offered him before he went out to pick up Yea Ji with another car. Manager Ryu found it amazing how much effort the young guy puts into spending time with his girl. He remembers all the private bookings and secret dates from years back. He was happy they had made it stronger up until now. It was a privilege to be taking care of Yea Ji now. He got to keep a closer eye on her, but she was also another job he had to keep.

She was booked and hired here and there, and he made sure he personally takes care of her. Especially when it was part of his job to filter the questions thrown at her during short interviews. She was too honest for her own good, he feared the day when she would unconsciously outright admit the relationship. It would lead to damage control of immense proportions.

He sighs to himself, chuckling to himself at the thought of the sneaky couple who have managed to go camping unseen. Love did bring all the creativity in people.

"Aish, chincha. It's freaking cold." Soo Hyun smiles at the sound of Yea Ji's silent grumbles as she sat by the threshold of the tent.. Nope, it didn't come out from Ko Moon Young. She was long gone from her system. That was purely from Seo Yea Ji, who hates the cold. He knew she was starting to get frustrated at the cool air that froze her skin. The cold always made her frustrated.

Fixing the firewood, he stands up. He walks towards her inside the tent and crawls in. He grabs the thick coat he packed for her. Sitting behind her, his legs on either side of her, he wraps her with the coat. He then wraps his arms around her, squeezing her warmly. Automatically, she leans back on him, feeling his warmth.

"Are you still cold? Hmm?" He leans over to her, looking at her. He smiles and presses a warm kiss on her face. Then proceeds to smother her with kisses, on her cheeks, on her forehead even on her neck. She giggles as the warm blood rushes to her face, flushing it red, heating it up. "Are you still cold?" He playfully asks, still pecking her with his lips. "Kajjima." She chortles, the wide smile in her lips never fading.

He hugs her even tighter, pressing his cheek warmly against hers. He rubs his palms against her arms, up and down, squeezing and holding her close. Swaying them slightly from side to side, he hums a silent song as they both admire the dark sky speckled by the bright stars. This was the always they longed for. To be always in each other’s arms. An exchange of words wasn’t needed, they basked in the comfort of the silence they shared, their hearts beating to a synchronized beat. To be with each other, in any form, was their always. 

“I love cold nights.” Soo Hyuns mutters. Yea Ji only responds with a low grunt, rolling her eyes as he lets out a chuckle, making her grin. “Waeh?” She asks in a soft voice, burying her head on the crook of his neck. He lets out a breath, pulling her closer than she could already possibly be. “Because I get to warm you up.” She giggles, shaking her head as she reaches for the side of his face with her hand, caressing his face with her thumb. 

They didn’t plan on staying the night. It was too risky to drive away together in broad daylight where people can recognize even the back view of his car. But, they wanted the full experience. It was essential to utilize the tent they so studiously set up. They had planned to at least nap for a few hours, just until midnight. If they weren’t down by one in the morning, it was manager Ryu’s job to summon them. 

“This is nice.” Yea Ji hums as Soo Hyun hugs her close to his chest, radiating his warmth even through their thick coats. He smiles, cuddling her even closer, running his hand up and down her back. He rests his chin on top of her head, keeping her small body encased in his, making sure she was all warm. He always makes sure she was happy, and that involves keeping her insulated at all costs. 

“What should we do next time?” He muses, his voice low and groggy as sleep starts to visit them. She had always had trouble sleeping, her insomnia massive in a lot of proportions. She was slowly getting better though, resulting from all the changes she started to employ to better herself. But whenever she was with him, she always had the best slumbers of her life. Not only because he provided her with warmth and comfort, but also because his presence brought her the calm her body needs. He was her anchor, her lullaby. 

“I’m good with anything as long as I’m with you.” She says, the massive sweetness making her own cheeks swell red. He giggles, humming a loud ‘hmm’ as he hugs her tighter, snuggling her. “I like the sound of that.” He says. 

“Maybe we should eat ramyeon by the Han River?” She lets out a low groggy chuckle, he does too. They knew it was probably going to be the riskiest date they would go into, but the excitement about it almost makes them want to consider it. “Manager Ryu is going to have a fit.” She says in a silent voice, grinning. “He’ll probably resign on the spot once I tell him we’re going to the Han River just to east sausages and ramyeon.” He says, making both of them chuckle. 

As their laughter dies down, and sleep starts to draw over them, they dive into the comfort of the silence. He brings his hand up to the back of her head, leaning to press a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s sleep for a while.” He whispers, earning a silent hum from her. 

[psycho-slytherin]

Turtledove

Your love of nature pays off... in an unexpected way.

Request: Could you do fae prince!Jungkook who has stolen you away? 

Pairing: Fae Prince!Jungkook x Reader

WC: 1.5k

Genre: fluff, drabble, idk?

A/N I just like bees, ok? Thanks for the request, anonie!

|mlist|

“Let me be your ruler, ruler, you can call me queen bee…” You sing to yourself as you weed your backyard. You’ve got half a dozen lavender bushes waiting to be planted, but first you’ve got to prepare the soil. Just as you’ve finally yanked out a particularly stubborn nettle, you feel a soft tingle on your skin. A bee has apparently made itself comfortable on your wrist.

“Hey, little lady,” you say with a smile. Maybe this is your signal to take a break from the relentless sun. You’ve never been scared of bees. Even as a child, you always seemed to attract insects and animals. Your mom called it magic; you’re of the opinion that good souls can sense each other. “It’s hot today, huh?” You ask the bee, who buzzes contentedly on your hand as you move back into a shady patch beneath the cherry tree. “You’re gonna like the lavender once it’s all grown up, there’ll be plenty of pollen.” It must be your imagination, but it seems like the bee buzzes more happily at your words. “Well, go on,” you say, waving your hand lightly to encourage its flight. “Get back to your queen, honey- ow!”

Almost in slow motion, you watch the bee press its stinger into the flesh of your palm before looking right into your eyes. The world tilts sideways and everything goes black.

Something cold pokes your cheek and you suppress a groan. You feel dirt and leaves beneath your feet, and something softer, wet– moss?

“Mina, you weren’t supposed to kill it,” an airy, male voice says.

“I didn’t mean to,” a girl whines. “I panicked.”

Your head is killing you, and when you at last open your eyes, you blink weakly. “Where…?”

“Ah, good, it’s awake.” And in front of your eyes is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen– his hair is a soft forest green, his skin inhumanly perfect, his nose tilted up just slightly and his ears pointed, as though he’s wearing prosthetics. He’s draped in shimmering green-blue robes that seem to move despite the stillness of the air. “I’m sorry for Mina.”

“Who…?” Normally you’d be scared, but the ethereal man in front of you practically radiates calm; against your instincts, you feel yourself relaxing. “Who are you?”

The man opens his mouth but before he can respond, a blue-haired girl– this must be Mina– claps her hands excitedly. “This is his royal highness, heir to the forest fae kingdom, the Crown Prince Jungkook!”

“Thank you, Mina,” the… prince? Responds bemusedly. “This is Mina, my aide, and the one who brought you here.”

You stand up groggily. “Where’s here?” You’re in a forest, certainly: tall trees with broad leaves create a dappled pattern of sunlight on the soft floor. You don’t hear even the hint of civilization. No cars, no chatter, just the occasional bird call.

“Oh, this is my kingdom. And you, human, are my guest.” He snaps his fingers and it’s like reality melts away. Where there were nests or messy branches suddenly appear small treehouses. What you thought was an animal’s burrow transforms into a beautifully decorated hut built into the earth. The messy rocks and moss beneath your feet rearrange themselves into neat paths leading throughout the forest. And right behind the prince, an enormous redwood tree simply becomes a magnificent palace, complete with arching doorways and large windows, perfect except for its size.

“Wo-woah…” you take a step backwards in wonder, suddenly feeling dizzy. You’re hallucinating, right? An allergic reaction to the bee sting? Or you’ve been kidnapped by a very handsome and definitely psycho magician?

Although… You know it’s irrational, but you can’t help but sense goodness in him. And Mina too.

“Am I dreaming?” You whisper, suddenly realizing that those pointy-ear prosthetics look very real.

“You’re not dreaming.” Prince Jungkook draws closer. He smells like clover and rain and lavender. “Human, all your life you have been good to us. The butterflies and bees for whom you planted flowers, the hummingbirds and squirrels you kept well-fed, and the very earth beneath your feet, which was always left fertile and healthy. I have watched you save my subjects from ill-meaning humans, from injuries, from cold.” He reaches out a hand and lightly touches a finger to your chest, right above your heart. You can feel it beat faster in response. “And for that, I shall reward you with a glimpse into my world. Will you come?”

His eyes are a deep green, and staring into them, you feel like your every sense has been heightened. If you’re dreaming, it’s the most intensely sensory dream you can remember. And if not… “Yes.”

The prince’s eyes flash. “This may hurt a little.”

From his finger on your chest you feel warmth spreading throughout your body. “Ah!” What began as a pleasant warmth morphs into pain; You feel a sharp, searing ache shoot through you. Your ears, eyes, and back especially feel as though they’re burning. “Stop it!”

As soon as the words leave your lips, the pain stops and you collapse onto the moss, which seems bigger now. Your body feels inexplicably light, and when you look back at the prince and Mina, your jaw drops.

“Holy– you have wings!” Tossing your confusion to the side– it’s a dream anyways, it doesn’t have to make sense– you bound over to Mina, who indeed stands before you with beautiful blue and black wings fluttering lightly in the breeze. Prince Jungkook’s wings are silver, almost transparent, and yet so bright they practically glow. “Can I…” you reach forward cautiously. “Can I touch them?”

“Gently,” the prince replies.

“But, your highness–” Mina says, falling silent as you lightly stroke the prince’s wing. They seem to emerge from between his shoulder blades, and though you thought they’d be light and fragile, you can feel a strength in the material. You notice the prince tensing slightly at your touch.

“This is all so beautiful.” You finally take a step back and look beyond the fae in front of you. “Oh, wow.”

The burrows and treehouses have grown in size. The palace that seemed awkwardly small now looms over you, impossibly large. In fact, everything seems much bigger now. You stare at your hands and finally notice that they look tiny in comparison to the humble blade of grass beside you. Nothing’s grown– you and the faeries have shrunken.

“Do you remember some fifteen years ago? You were just a child when you found a turtledove with a broken wing.” Prince Jungkook says with a soft smile.

You do remember the incident– you’d come into the house crying, asking your parents to help you bring it inside.

“You spent days and sleepless nights nursing it back to health. And for years the turtledove would return, wouldn’t it, to say hello?”

“Y-Yes. It always slept in the fig tree outside my window.” The dove stopped visiting four or five years later; you figured it had died.

“That turtledove, lovely human, was me. And this is my kingdom.” He gestures, and the silent forest suddenly bursts into chatter, movement, noise. Hundreds of faeries appear as though they’d been there all along, walking or flying, dressed in all manner of tunics and robes. Most seem to be going about their business, running errands, or doing work. Some stop and stare at you, or greet the prince with a bow. The doors to the redwood palace swing open, and you hear an unfamiliar kind of music fill the air.

“Will you join me?” Prince Jungkook asks, a brilliant smile lighting up his features.

You grin mischievously. “That depends, do I get wings too?”

“Oh, Y/n. Look behind you.”

“What?” You crane your neck and yelp in surprise; In your peripheral vision you can see the edges of black-and-yellow wings, the pattern resembling a cross between a monarch butterfly’s and a bee’s. You focus intently on your back muscles and for a brief moment, you see the tips of your wings flutter.

“Er… your highness, can I keep them?” You ask the prince, hurrying to keep up with him and Mina as they enter the palace. The interior is beautiful, perfectly blending the decor in with the natural color of the wood. Patterns and symbols you don’t recognize are carved into the walls, and well-dressed faeries turn to eye you from around the foyer.

“Call me Jungkook. The wings are yours within the fae world– and you are welcome to stay as long as you’d like, princess.”

Your heart seems to glow. You’re a faery, a real faery! Even if it is just a dream… you never want to wake up.

“Jungkook!” You say his name like it’s a ray of sunshine, laughing at the pure delight flowing through you. The prince stands next to you, his wings catching the light of the lanterns. “Jungkook, thank you. Your world is so wonderful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

Jungkook takes your hand and draws it to him, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. “No, thank you. You’re all goodness, princess. Now, let me show you around.”

[scribblesofanaricat]

Night Terrors

I don’t share a bunk bed with my brother anymore. We don’t even sleep in the same room, the one with the curtains we picked together years ago. Tiny little silvery stars and rockets. Those curtains are gone now, though. The last time I saw them was when our mum snatched what was left of them off the carpet and crammed them into the bin. Like they were poisonous. Maybe they were.

It’s always here, around corners and under blankets and creeping through the gaps in doors. It’s in the cold that clings to every hair, no matter how far it has to follow. And people don’t like seeing reminders of it lying around. Even the stuff that has what they call ‘bad energy’ - the something that prickles at the back of a neck and throttles a heartbeat - has to be tossed away, or destroyed.

Well, sometimes.

There’s a lot of it they haven’t noticed yet. Or so my friend tells me.

My brother’s already demolishing the peanut butter when I trudge into the kitchen. He just about manages a grunt of greeting through his ballooning cheeks. But Mum’s head jerks at the sight of me, gaping at something on my front. I slide my gaze in the same direction. Oh. Right. My pyjama shirt is hanging off my shoulders, looking a lot more like a castoff than something that was just bought a week or two ago.

She heaves a very mother-ish sound through her nose when she doesn’t spot any injuries on me. “This is the fourth time you’ve come down looking like that now. If that’s how you treat the clothes I buy you…” She doesn’t finish.

It’s not like I can help it.

We were just playing a game, that’s all.

I say nothing.

She goes through the usual: tugging a navy blue blazer, stripy tie, too-long greyish trousers, porridge-coloured socks free of the knotty mass brimming in the dryer and tossing them in my direction, sending me back upstairs to my new smaller room to change clothes, advising me not to show my face in the kitchen again until I’ve made myself decent.

In plodding my way across the landing to my new bedroom, I pass the door to that old one, off-white, faintly sheeny, shut tight. I spare a few seconds of thought to whatever happened to our bunk bed, mine and Elliot’s. Don’t think I’ll ever find out, though. Our mother’s let the door handle go neglected and gather as much dust as possible. That way, if either of us touch it, she’ll be able to tell. It’s occurred to me more than once that I could just prod the door open with my foot without messing with her genius trap, but I’ve never acted on it.

Walls have eyes and ears.

The new room is all right, considering. Elliot volunteered for Sofa Duty, in his words, so I’ve got it to myself, but it doesn’t really feel like mine anymore: plain yellowish-white curtains now, matching carpet, my books stacked in sloppy heaps instead of arranged on wall shelves. But it is mine and I’m going to have to get used to it. At the very least, it’s the closest thing I have to my own safe hideaway. Wonder if that’s what all those others thought too, once upon a time.

My friend likes it in here; it’s dark and I keep it that way. Lights switched off, curtains pulled to, never a torch beam or even a lit candle to dart across the shadows. Mum doesn’t really like it when we have our curtains hanging open anyway, not since all this happened - actually, right now, she probably doesn’t want me or my friend touching any in the first place. Not that either of us ever set out to rip apart the old ones, the ones with the rockets and comets and constellations stitched all over them. It just...sort of happened.

They like to play, simple as that. Even when they get carried away, go a bit far, whatever the phrase is. It’s fine.

Yet my mum never seems to agree that it is. Fine, I mean. I’ve tried telling her about my friend before, about the adventures they come up with, but no matter how I put the words together, they collapse on me like a card house. Running further and further away the more I chase them. And even when they don’t, I just slam head-first into “excuses” and “childish” and, more often in the last couple of weeks, “no, I’m tired and I don’t want to hear it”.

It stings. By now, though, I’ve learned to stay quiet and let all the blame drop onto me. A shrug. A side-glance. A muttered sorry. Of course, my friend never says sorry, but that’s fine. She probably wouldn’t believe them either.

I sling my pyjamas down; the mattress catches them in a raggedy bundle (not my fault, I didn’t mean to, neither of us meant to). A tiny comfort is the knowledge that my friend hates fussy school uniforms as much as I do, even if they don’t really understand why it can’t just be discarded whenever we feel like it.

I heave a breath, watching its mist slowly billow into the air. Cold. Shadows play in the corner, called up by the light forcing its way past the curtains. Part of me - the same part of my heart that my friend has made themselves at home in since the day I first met them - dares them to twitch closer.

But they don’t. They don’t.

By the time I trudge downstairs, there’s a cereal bowl, spoon and chipped cup of juice plonked in front of my chair. Even though I haven’t liked apple juice since I was about eight.

“Oh, there you are, finally…” Mum tweaks the pile of rags out of my grasp and blows out her cheeks. “You know, I was just saying to Elliot that if the pair of you socialised a bit more, got some friends who lived nearby, you could go to school with them every morning instead.”

My spoon pokes at the cereal: another thing I can’t help. Its texture is just...wrong. I do. They just don’t want me to go around telling other people about them yet. I peek over at her, but her head (puckered lips and all) is bent over what’s left of my pyjamas, turning them back to front and inside out as if counting the holes. She always has her hands and head full with other things, I guess. Especially now.

“Come on, get that cereal down you before you go. I don’t want to have to come and fetch you home if you faint at school.” She only shoots me half a glance - the rest of her gets sidetracked by twitching aside the kitchen curtain just enough to push her nose through the gap - but it falls on me like a hot coal all the same. She hates it when I do this, the thing she calls ‘pecking at my food’.

I swish my spoon around in the bowl, its contents quickly transforming into some sort of rice krispie paste. “It’s too soggy,” I say dumbly. How else can I explain that cereal doesn’t feel or taste right anymore, not when I know there’s far better things to devour, my friend’s shown me them-

She doesn’t deign to reply.

Elliot bolts out of the door twelve minutes ahead of me, with a flit of his fingers in reply to our mum’s scattery warnings to pay attention and don’t dawdle out there and get yourself home by four - by four, Elliot. Behind their backs, I quietly scrape the remains of my cereal into the bin and embark on a hunt for my shoes. My friend must’ve moved them from where they were sitting under the radiator to dry out after yesterday’s downpour. They do stuff like that.

I guess it’s their way of venting annoyance; their idea of a tiny revenge. Admittedly, it turns out they can’t really do a lot unless I’m there with them.

My hand has only just touched the front door handle when- “Four o’clock sharp, d’you hear me?”

“I hear you,” I mutter. I’m about to close the door behind me when it’s flung shut from the inside, barely avoiding snagging the edge of my blazer. It’s okay.

Force of habit cranes my neck for a glimpse of Elliot’s stringy limbs or maybe the marmalade-coloured backpack hanging lopsided off his shoulders. Nothing. Nothing except for the mist breathing on my clothes and hair and leaching what colour’s left out of the leaves.

That’s all right with me. He only tries to elbow me into hedgerows and signposts whenever I tag along with him.

The laces of my beaten-up oxfords flail with every step - sometimes over splotches of used chewing gum or the muddy dregs of puddles. The walk to school takes forty minutes or so; more if some road or another is taped off. That’s been happening here and there, for the same reason that all the news channels are urging the parents not to let their kids out by themselves. To go along with them, look out for them, instead of just harping on at them about curfews.

I kick out at a pebble sitting right in my path, scuffing my shoe-toe even more as I go. Forty minutes each way. She won’t come outside of her four walls for that long. Not anymore.

In any case, there’s no one around now. No one to spot me edging my way through the closest thing to an opening to be found in the tangled trees and bushes. Sliding down a bank of weeds and moss and slimy leaves. Skidding just a little on the fringes of what my neighbours still call the park.

The sky could be dressed up in its best shade of blue instead of scribbled in school-pencil grey and it wouldn’t make any difference to this place. Most of the footpaths have disappeared under a slush of long-dead leaves and scraggly fallen feathers; the sludge-coloured pond a little way ahead smells just like all the litter it’s been collecting. That’s probably why it feels as if nobody ever really comes here, not even for the sake of a shortcut (well, nobody except the pigeons jostling one another for spots on the rusty benches or on the branches dangling over them like dreadlocks).

At the same time, though, no one seems sure what to do with it, so here it is. Rotting away. And I have it to myself. We have it to ourselves.

They’re quiet all the same. That’s typical, really. Familiar. I suppose it’d be sort of weird to a lot of people - as if I’d ever share this stuff with anyone else to begin with - but neither of us does much chatting; we don’t need to. They invent games for us, I join in and that’s how we understand each other.

Sometimes.

Other times, they stray into something I don’t want to...like with those silvery curtains. And just like then, I always end up doing it anyhow. It’s fine. It’s only games.

A dig to the stomach from their icy-cold fingers and I realise the sun’s conquered more of the sky since I last looked, casting a puddle-shadow in front of me. Any time now (or maybe already), the school receptionists are going to try and get hold of my mum so they can quiz her on why I’m not squashed into the back row of the Geography classroom.

I drop my head against the lumps of the swing chain, rocking along with it as one toe prods an on-and-off rhythm into the carpet of wood chippings and built-up gunge below. It’s okay; her phone’s nowhere to be found most of the time. And even if she does happen to have it with her, she hardly ever picks up.

It’s no different now. Now that the dread of being watched - hunted - is constantly beating itself against her skull.

That’s what’s been happening, or what everybody thinks is happening. Hunts, stalking. People set foot outside or just upstairs, or even from one room to another, and then never come back. Nobody knows how, nobody knows where or why, no rhyme or reason as to who’ll be next. The first time a pack of authorities glanced over it, they took it as a standard child abduction case, ‘til word got out that it wasn’t just kids who were getting plucked from their homes.

And that’s why everyone’s always on the lookout for bad omens now, for changes in the water and shifts in the air.

My cold forehead creases at that thought.

...but would they recognise things like that, even if they spotted them?

There’s a murmur in my ear as my friend shifts; they swipe at the strands drooping over my forehead, jab at my ribs, tug at my fingers and feet. Hungry for fun.

“No. Not now, just...not now. I don’t wanna get attention from anyone ‘cause they’ll ask why I’m not at school...we don’t know who’s around and they don’t get it…” The last few words trip me up. With a shuddery breath, I bring out the only thing I know for sure will get them to be still. For now. “They might take you away from me.”

And there we stay, swaying and swaying with the swings, until the sun starts sinking towards its rest.

*

The dark is one thing, but nights send prickles racing across my skin. A black curtain swallowing the sky, billions of stars glinting in warped shapes behind the clouds but none of them making any difference. My friend likes them, though. They say their games work much better in the dark.

I bid Elliot a mumbled goodnight that he doesn’t return (our mother’s already in bed with a cup of her icky organic tea) and plod upstairs, and the shadows follow me.

I barely manage to toe my door shut before they - my friend, my only friend - leap like a flame, shoving me to my knees.

Pain, cold pain, sears through my bones. On my neck, inside my throat, frigid hands silence my cry; another voice buries the harsh tearing (clothes, skin, muscle). A voice that cracks like dried flesh and somehow sounds so like mine anyway- but it can’t be mine- it’s theirs, the words are theirs, I’m theirs-

“Let’s play.”

[gryffindorcls]

Meant To Be:  Chapter 7 (Reveal)

IT’S DAY SEVEN OF LOVESQUARE FLUFF WEEK 2020!!!

(I KNOW IT’S NOT.  I KNOW IT’S SUPER LATE, BUT HEY!  IT’S DONE!  *cries tears of joy*)

Thank you @lovesquarefluffweek​ for organizing this event!

Welcome back!  Today’s prompt is “Reveal”.

Enjoy the last chapter!

—

BEGINNING

<— Previous 

AO3

FanFiction

Chapter 7: Reveal

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell him tonight.” Marinette slammed her head onto the desk. “Waiting a few days wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“Oh, you’re telling him tonight.” Tikki crossed her arms.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to know who I am anymore? What if he gets angry when I bring it up? What if…”

The Kwami cut her off. “Stop saying such silly things! You know that Chat Noir wants to know who you are.”

She picked up her head and looked at Tikki. “But what if he changed his mind.”

“You’re joking, right? He wrote a song for you, and then he played it on the piano. TWICE.”

“I’m just having second thoughts.”

Tikki rubbed her paws against her head. “Marinette, I’m going to say this once, so listen closely. Are you ready?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Tikki, I’m listening.”

“Your identities were only supposed to remain a secret until you and your partner learned to trust each other. The two of you are the best holders that Plagg and I have ever had. You and Chat have an incredible partnership, and it’s time to tell him who you are.”

“It is?”

“Yes. That, and Plagg and I are being driven insane by you two.”

“But Master Fu told us that we had to keep our identities hidden from each other.”

“Master Fu was a wise man, but he also lived his life in fear. He was constantly running from something. My holders have always learned the identities of their partners at some point. It’s part of the natural progression of your relationship with each other.”

“But there are so many things that could go wrong.”

“And there are even more things that could go wrong if you two don’t know the truth. Remember, I’ve been around a lot longer than Master Fu, and I've seen this all before. Also, you’re the Guardian now. You need this. He needs this. We all need this. Please tell him.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I am, and trust me, everything will make sense after tonight.”

“I hope so,” Marinette sighed.

Her kwami nuzzled her cheek. “I know with one hundred percent certainty that tonight will be one of the happiest nights of your life.”

“Okay, I trust you, Tikki.”

“Thank you. Now, tell me, what time are you meeting him tonight?”

“Nine o’clock at our usual spot. That gives me one hour to get ready.” Marinette hopped out of her chair and ran to her closet. “I was thinking of wearing my pink polka dot dress, but if we’re going to be on a roof, I don’t want to be cold when I detransform.”

“You could always wear a sweater,” Tikki suggested, “Or you could just use Chat Noir’s warmth.”

“Tikki!”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m shocked. I thought you were supposed to be the good one!”

“Plagg may be more chaotic than I am, but I can’t help it! It’s been so long since I’ve seen our holders in love. Can you blame me?”

Marinette shook her head. “No, tonight is not about love. It’s about revealing our identities. That’s it.”

“Mmmhmm,” Tikki smirked, “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“It’s true! I don’t have the energy to deal with love right now. Once I know who Chat is, then I can take a few days and maybe figure out this whole thing with him and Adrien.”

“I still think you’ll take one look at civilian Chat and tell me that I was right.”

“And you would know that because you know who he is.”

“Yup.”

She paused and bit her lip. “Can I ask you something about him?”

Her Kwami nodded. “As long as it’s not his name, sure.”

“Is he just as cute under the mask as he is with it on?”

“That’s for you to find out.”

“Oh, no! That means he is!” Marinette rushed over to her vanity and pulled out her hair ties. “I should do something with my hair, and a sweater would be cute, right? And maybe I should put on some lip gloss? Help! What should I do?”

Tikki giggled. “You do realize that he’ll think you’re beautiful even if you’re wearing a brown paper bag, right?”

“I know, but this is the first time he’s seeing me without the mask.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Okay, true, but this is the first time he’s seeing me while knowing that I’m Ladybug.”

“Go get ready! You’re going to be late if you spend all your time talking to me about it.”

“Oh, my God! You’re right!”

Throwing open the drawer, she pulled out a curling wand, plugged it in, waited for it to heat up, and began styling her hair. When she was satisfied with the outcome, she ran to her closet and dug out a white sweater.

“You only have five minutes left until nine o’clock.” Tikki landed on her shoulder. “Are you ready to go?”

Marinette gave herself a once over in the mirror and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready. I can do this.”

“Yes, you can!”

“Tikki, SPOTS ON!”

She closed her eyes and allowed the bright pink magic to wash over her. When her eyes reopened, Ladybug smiled back at her in the mirror. Her hair was once again in pigtails, but the thought of Chat Noir seeing her as Marinette filled her with bubbling excitement and a calming wave of confidence.

She was ready. Hopefully, Chat would be ready, as well.

As she reached for her yo-yo, it chimed. Ladybug flipped open the device and read the message on the screen.

CN: Could you meet me at the gazebo instead of our usual spot? I have something I need to show you

Her heart thumped against her chest.

Seeing his words sent a flurry of thoughts racing through her mind. “Is it another song? Did he find something? Why the gazebo? Does he want to tell me that he still loves me? NO. Tonight is not about love.”

She took a deep breath, composed a reply, and hit send.

LB: Sure. Is everything okay?

His response came only seconds later.

CN: Yes, I’m fine. I just need to talk to you. See you soon.

Her heart thumped again.

LB: Be there in a few.

Ladybug closed the communicator, climbed onto her bed, lifted herself onto her balcony, and swung across the rooftops. In less than a minute, she landed in the middle of the park.

Unlike the previous two nights, there were no decorations or lights. After helping her parents cater the wedding, she’d watched as the workers cleaned up the venue. The space now felt cold and lifeless.

“You came.” Chat’s voice filled her with warmth.

She walked towards the gazebo. “You asked me to come.”

“Wait!” he shouted, causing her to stop in her tracks, “Don’t come any closer.”

“Why? What’s going on? Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, but I need to say something before you see me.”

“See you? Chaton, I see you all the time. What happened?”

“I had a dream, or I guess it was a dream? Maybe it was real, or maybe it was my brain trying to tell me something. I don’t know what happened, but when I woke up, everything was different. I don’t even know how to start. I’m messing all of this up.” She heard him groan and sigh.

Through the darkness, Ladybug could feel the frustration radiating off of him. While she didn’t know what was wrong, she was willing to do anything to make him feel better. She was ready to detransform without warning, run to him, hold him, and tell him that everything was okay. She wanted him to know that she was going to be there for him no matter the circumstances.

“Chat Noir, please let me come over,” Ladybug pleaded, “I have something I need to say to you, as well. I think it will make everything better, and it’ll help us get through whatever this is...together.”

His response came without hesitation. “No, not yet. I just need a few minutes.”

“Then, will you at least tell me what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

“Agghhh!” he screamed, “I really am messing this up!”

Worry began to settle in her gut. “What’s going on, Chat?”

“I’m so sorry. Here I am, trying to make this romantic, and I wind up freaking you out. Nothing is wrong, my lady. I’m just a little nervous.”

“Did you say romantic?”

“Yeah, I..I...you see, I’m…”

“He’s trying to tell you that he loves you,” a gravelly voice chimed in, cutting him off.

“Plagg!” Chat said through gritted teeth.

“You love me?” Her heart pounded against her chest.

“Yes, I always have,” he said quickly before scolding his Kwami, “Don’t make me regret bringing you with me.”

“Oh, and how exactly would you have gotten here on your own?”

“I could have walked.”

Ladybug’s feet may have been planted on the ground, but she was soaring far above the city. A flurry of thoughts bombarded her consciousness as she desperately searched for a way to land.

“He loves me,” her mind sang, “He still loves me. He always has. Even Plagg…”

Her newest realization sent her crashing back to earth.

“Wait.” She paused before continuing. “Plagg?”

With a smug grin plastered across his face, the Kwami emerged from the shadows and hovered in front of her face. “Hey, Ladybug. Long time, no see.”

“But if you’re here…” She could almost hear the cogs turning in her mind. “Chat, you’re not transformed.”

“Uhhh, no, I am not,” he replied with a nervous chuckle.

“But you just sent me a message on the communicator.”

“I detransformed the second you said you were on your way.”

“Someone could have seen you!”

“Nah, there’s no one here. I checked three times, but if it makes you feel any better, I was hiding in a bush.”

“And how long have you been doing that?”

“We’ve been in this park for hours,” Plagg groaned, “The second those workers left, he started setting everything up. I’m begging you. Please just get this over with so we can all move on and so I can see Tikki.”

“Can one of you please tell me what’s going on?” She turned towards where she assumed her partner was standing in the darkened gazebo. “What have you been setting up?”

“Something for you,” he whispered.

“And it took you hours?”

“I wanted to do this right.”

“And you’re really in love with me?”

“Yes, I’m in love with every single part of you, Marinette.”

“Oh, Chat, I…” Her brain replayed his previous statement. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“I know who you are, my lady.” She could hear the happiness in his voice. “And if you would like, I’m ready to tell you who I am, as well.”

His unseen smile was contagious. Her cheeks began to ache from the unbridled joy that coursed through her veins and showed on her face.

“Please let me see you,” she begged for the second time, “I came here tonight to tell you who I was, but you already know. Why are you still standing in the dark?”

“Because he’s a hopeless romantic,” Plagg scoffed.

He laughed. “It’s true. I am, but I’m not feeling quite so hopeless anymore.”

Ladybug shielded her eyes as the space around her was filled with light. When her eyes finally adjusted to the change, she was met with a beaming Adrien Agreste wearing a wine red button-up shirt and black slacks. The gazebo was adorned with thousands of twinkling lights and dozens of pink roses.

“Adrien,” she breathed.

“Marinette,” he said reverently, “My beautiful lady.”

All at once, everything made sense. Until now, her heart had been broken into two, the pieces divided between two loves, but seeing Adrien stand in Chat Noir’s place filled in the cracks. The war that raged inside her had ended, and all of the confusion finally melted away.

It felt familiar.

It felt safe.

It felt right.

At a loss for words, Ladybug took a tentative step towards the gazebo. “The lights you put up...they look like stars. They’re so beautiful and bright.”

“And yet no light compares to how brightly you shine, my lady. You illuminate every inch of the darkness.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm.

“You’re such a flirt,” she said teasingly, biting her lip.

“Is that okay?” Adrien looked away. “I know you weren’t very comfortable with it in the past.”

“Things are different. If we're being honest, past me is definitely kicking herself right now.”

“I know the feeling.”

“I have so many questions.”

“And I’d be happy to answer them. We have all the time in the world.”

“Okay,” she laughed, “Well, first, is this really happening?”

He walked towards her and took her hands in his own. “Yes.”

“So, I’m not dreaming that the two boys I fell in love with are actually the same person?”

“No, but you were definitely in my dreams last night.”

“What?”

“That’s how I figured it out.”

She cocked her head to the side. “From a dream?”

He nodded. “I think my mind put it together for me. I don’t know how to explain it. It was like the universe was screaming the answer to all my questions. For a moment, I was in a different world. All I know is that when I woke up, I knew that Marinette was Ladybug and Ladybug was Marinette. The two girls who hold my heart had become one, and all was right with the world.”

Ladybug took a moment to absorb his words and suddenly felt the urge to feel his hands without the suit in the way. She knew it was time to break down all the barriers that stood between them.

“Spots off,” she whispered, giving Adrien’s hands a gentle squeeze.

When the bright light had faded, Marinette immediately felt his warmth on her palms. Not wanting the moment to end, she leaned in, and he followed in suit. Adrien rested his forehead against hers, and they both laughed.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” Her vision started to blur from unshed tears beginning to pool in the corners of her eyes.

“Really?” She could feel his breath as he spoke. “Because it only makes sense for you to be Ladybug. You’re amazing, Marinette.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it makes all the sense in the world, but I’m still trying to figure out how I got so lucky.”

“I’d like to think that purr-haps we were meant to be.”

“Yeah, no, you’re definitely my Chaton,” Marinette giggled, “Your jokes still have the worst timing. How did I not see it before?”

“Your Chaton? I like the sound of that, my lady.” Even without his transformation, there was a gentle purr behind his words.

“Alright, my Chaton, second question.”

“I’m all ears, my lady.”

“Can I hear more about this dream? I’m very curious to find out what made you realize that I was Ladybug.”

“How about I tell you over dinner. Say...tomorrow?”

“Very smooth.”

“Don’t let my words fool you. I’m completely panicking on the inside.”

“I am, as well, but at the same time, I know that I can trust you completely. That’s the only reason I haven’t melted into a puddle of goo.”

“You’d be a very cute puddle of goo. Nervous Marinette is adorable.”

“You mean the Marinette who couldn’t form coherent sentences around you.”

“Yup,” he chuckled, “That’s the one. So, what do you say? Will you go to dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “It’s a date.”

“Paw-some.”

“Oh, no! Don’t make me regret saying ‘yes’!”

“You know you love my puns.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. You know what I would love even more, though?”

“What’s that?”

She shifted her head and nuzzled his nose. “I would love it if you kissed me.”

He placed his hands on her waist and smirked. “I think that could be arranged.”

“Just come here, you silly cat!” Marinette grabbed his cheeks, pulled him towards her, and closed the gap between them.

When their lips crashed together, she was transported. The gazebo’s lights brightened, and the air around them grew warm.

The kiss was a release of every longing sigh, stolen glance, and suppressed “I love you” that had been exchanged between them since the day they’d met. It healed every heartbreak and washed away the pain from the countless lonely nights spent wishing for something more.

It was everything.

He was her everything.

Feeling the gentle movement of Adrien’s lips under her own made her knees weaken. As if he sensed her imminent collapse, he tightened his grip around her waist, straightened his back, lifted her onto her toes, and deepened the kiss. She moved her fingers into his hair and played with the tendrils that hung around the nape of his neck.

All too soon, she ran out of air and pulled away. “Can we do that again?”

“Oh, God, yes.” He once again pressed his lips against hers and sent her to another world.

While this kiss was shorter, it was every bit as meaningful as the first. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer. The warmth of his chest against her torso flooded her brain with immeasurable bliss. Relishing the sensation, she melted into his embrace.

When he pulled away, he peppered her face with smaller kisses, sending her into a fit of giggles. “Adrien! What are you doing?”

He placed one last gentle kiss on her forehead. “Showering you with love and affection.”

Marinette playfully tapped his nose. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, we have a job to do.”

“What else could we possibly be doing right now?”

“It’s a patrol night.”

“But we’re both dressed up, and we’re having a great time together.”

“We still have a responsibility to this city.”

“Are you seriously telling me that Paris won’t survive one night without us?”

“Well, I guess it could, but I was also kind of wondering what it might be like to kiss Chat Noir on top of the Eiffel Tower, but if you don’t want to do it…”

He cut her off. “Now hold on just one second. Let’s not be hasty. I know for a fact that Chat Noir would love to do something like that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Most definitely.”

“In that case, Tikki, SPOTS ON!” When her transformation was complete, she unsheathed her yo-yo and tossed it onto a rooftop. “Try to keep up, kitty!”

Ladybug tugged on the wire and flew through the air. Within seconds, she heard the familiar patter of her partner running behind her.

And for a moment, all was as it should be.

***

BONUS SCENE:

Tikki sat huddled with Plagg on Marinette’s desk while their chosens cuddled beneath the stars on the balcony above. She replayed the evening's events in her mind and sighed contentedly. She loved watching her wielders fall in love.

Without warning, her mind came to a screeching halt. Adrien had told Marinette that he’d figured out it was her through a dream.

A dream.

And not just any dream. It was a dream that felt as if he were in a different world. Aside from her, there was only one other being in the universe who had the power to make something like that happen.

“Plagg,” she growled, “What did you do?”

He nuzzled his head against her cheek. “What are you talking about, Sugarcube?”

Tikki zipped away and hovered above the other Kwami. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“No, come back! You were warm.”

“Oh, no. I’m not coming back until you tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to break down the barrier between our world and another.”

His eyes flicked open. “You caught that, did you?”

She crossed her arms. “Yes, I did. We talked about this. That’s not okay. Bad things happen whenever you do that. Remember Atlantis? Or World War I? Oh, and it was especially fun when we reprised that war with World War II.”

“It wasn’t like those times. It was just a little crack in reality. The opening was only big enough for Adrien to connect with his duplicate on the other side.”

“What makes you think that’s any better?”

“Well, this time it won’t create a mass of disillusioned people. Adrien is strong. He can handle it.”

“It’s not safe!”

Plagg groaned. “I had to do something!”

“But I told you that I was going to convince Marinette to tell him who she was!” Tikki exclaimed, “That was the plan. Not inter-dimensional travel through dreams.”

“Relax! What’s the worst that could happen?”

“PLAGG!”

“If it gets out of hand, we’ll just tell Marinette, and she can help us seal the rift.”

“We need all the Kwamis to make that happen.”

“Then it’ll make them hunt down Hawkmoth even faster. It’s a win-win for everyone. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Yes, many times.”

He placed a paw against his chest. “Ouch.”

Tikki took a deep breath. “You’re sure it was just a little hole?”

“Yes, it’s very small.”

“Will Adrien continue to have dreams?”

“Probably, but he’ll be fine. He has Marinette now.”

“Can I ask which world you sent him to?”

“It’s one where we’re a dashing master of the house and a beautiful seamstress. Adrien is a prince, and he makes Marinette his princess.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“No, it’s a wonderful world. Adrien finds the love of his life in it, and they get to live happily ever after. It’s basically a fairy tale.”

“Let’s just hope you’re right,” Tikki mumbled, settling herself next to Plagg.

“You’ll see.” He yawned and curled himself around her. “Everything will be just fine.”

[newstfionline]

Friday, March 12, 2021

Rich, developing nations wrangle over COVID vaccine patents (Reuters) Richer members of the World Trade Organization (WTO) blocked a push by over 80 developing countries on Wednesday to waive patent rights in an effort to boost production of COVID-19 vaccines for poor nations. South Africa and India renewed their bid to waive rules of the WTO’s Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property (TRIPS) agreement, a move that could allow generic or other manufacturers to make more vaccines. South Africa argued the current TRIPS system does not work, pointing to the failure to secure life-saving medicines during the HIV/AIDS pandemic that had cost at least 11 million African lives. Medecins Sans Frontieres in October put together a letter signed by over 375 civil society organisations supporting the waiver. The South Africa and India proposal was backed by dozens of largely developing countries at the WTO, but opposed by Western countries, including Britain, Switzerland, EU nations and the United States, which have large domestic pharmaceutical industries.

US reports surge of kids at SW border, a challenge for Biden (AP) The number of migrant children and families seeking to cross the U.S. southwest border has surged to levels not seen since before the pandemic, a challenge for President Joe Biden. Statistics released Wednesday by U.S. Customs and Border Protection showed the number of children and families increased by more than 100% between January and February. Kids crossing by themselves rose 60% to more than 9,400, forcing the government to look for new places to hold them temporarily. The surge has been seized on by Republicans and former President Donald Trump as a line of attack on Biden, though his administration is turning back nearly all single adults, who make up the majority of border-crossers, under a public health order imposed at the start of the coronavirus pandemic. The Biden administration is temporarily holding children and families, mostly from Central America, for several days. They are generally then allowed to enter the U.S. while authorities evaluate their claims to asylum or see if they have any other legal right to stay in the country. It is a challenge for an administration that has been working to restore an asylum system largely dismantled under Trump and likely to face increasing pressure. Factors driving the increase include widespread hunger in Central America due to recent hurricanes, the economic upheaval of the pandemic and more fundamental social problems dating back years.

Brazil hospitals buckle (AP) Brazil’s hospitals are faltering as a highly contagious coronavirus variant tears through the country, the president insists on unproven treatments and the only attempt to create a national plan to contain COVID-19 has just fallen short. Piaui state’s Gov. Wellington Dias told The Associated Press that, unless pressure on hospitals is eased, growing numbers of patients will have to endure the disease without a hospital bed or any hope of treatment in an intensive care unit. “We have reached the limit across Brazil; rare are the exceptions,” Dias, who leads the governors’ forum, said. “The chance of dying without assistance is real.” Those deaths have already started. In Brazil’s wealthiest state, Sao Paulo, at least 30 patients died this month while waiting for ICU beds, according to a tally published Wednesday by the news site G1. In southern Santa Catarina state, 419 people are waiting for transfer to ICU beds. In neighboring Rio Grande do Sul, ICU capacity is at 106%.

Athens tackles heat and pollution with pocket-sized parks (Reuters) Tucked between rows of apartment blocks on an Athens street, a strip of green with a few trees, some plants and a bench offers a breathing space in the surrounding crush of concrete. The Greek capital has started creating “pocket parks”, transforming small plots once ridden with garbage and weeds, in a bid to tackle its chronic pollution. “It’s about creating green spaces, lowering the temperatures, giving quality of life and creating new reference points inside the city,” Athens Mayor Kostas Bakoyannis said. “It lets us breathe a bit, because the way we are here ... we are suffocating,” said 65-year-old Dimitra from the densely populated neighbourhood of Kypseli.

Myanmar’s searing smartphone images flood a watching world (AP) The images ricochet across the planet, as so many do in this dizzying era of film it, upload it, tell it to the world: scenes from a protest-turned-government crackdown, captured at ground level by smartphone users on the streets of Myanmar. Images shot across barricades and furtively through windows. From behind bushes and through smudged car windshields. Horizontal video. Vertical video. Video captured by people running toward chaos and away from it. People shouting. People helping. People demanding. People dying. It is a dynamic completely unlike the uprising that spread through the Southeast Asian nation in the pre-internet, pre-smartphone summer of 1988. Then, when student-led demonstrations were violently put down by the government, cementing Myanmar’s global notoriety as an isolated, repressive state, it took months, even years, for the outside world to understand the full story of what had happened. This time around, the imagery is plentiful and unsettling. Filmed by participants on the ground and uploaded, sometimes immediately, the protests and crackdowns are reaching millions of handheld devices around the planet, also almost immediately. It’s a vivid example of a technological truism in an age when capturing images has become utterly democratized: If you can glimpse it up close, you’re more likely to pay attention.

Most Americans support tough stance toward China on human rights, economic issues (Pew Research Center) Roughly nine-in-ten U.S. adults (89%) consider China a competitor or enemy, rather than a partner, according to a new Pew Research Center survey. Many also support taking a firmer approach to the bilateral relationship, whether by promoting human rights in China, getting tougher on China economically or limiting Chinese students studying abroad in the United States. Americans rarely brought up the Chinese people or the country’s long history and culture in their responses. Instead, they focused primarily on the Chinese government—including its policies or how it behaves internationally—as well as its economy.

Ten years on, Japan mourns victims of earthquake, Fukushima nuclear disaster (Reuters) Japan on Thursday mourned nearly 20,000 victims of a massive earthquake and tsunami that struck Japan 10 years ago, destroying towns and triggering nuclear meltdowns in Fukushima, the world’s worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl. Huge waves triggered by the 9.0-magnitude quake—one of the strongest on record—crashed into the northeastern coast, crippling the Fukushima Dai-ichi power plant and forcing more than 160,000 residents to flee as radiation spewed into the air. The government has spent about $300 billion (32.1 trillion yen) to rebuild the tsunami-devastated region, but areas around the Fukushima plant remain off-limits, worries about radiation levels linger and many who left have settled elsewhere. Decommissioning of the crippled plant will take decades and billions of dollars. The disaster has also left survivors in Tohoku struggling to overcome the grief of losing families and whole communities to the waves in a few frightening hours on the afternoon of March 11, 2011.

Lebanon’s politicians show no sign of saving their country, France says (Reuters) France’s foreign minister said on Thursday time was running out to prevent Lebanon collapsing and that he could see no sign that the country’s politicians were doing what they could to save it. France has spearheaded international efforts to rescue the former French protectorate from its deepest crisis since the 1975-1990 civil war by trying to use Paris’ historical influence to persuade squabbling politicians to adopt a reform roadmap and form a new government to unlock international aid. “I would be tempted to qualify Lebanese politicians as guilty of not helping a country in danger,” Jean-Yves le Drian told a news conference in Paris. “They all committed to act to create an inclusive government and committed to implementing indispensable reforms. That was seven months ago and nothing is moving. I think it’s not too late, but the delays are very small before collapse.”

UN food aid chief visits Yemen, fears famine (AP) The head of the U.N. food agency warned after a visit to Yemen that his underfunded organization may be forced to seek hundreds of millions of dollars in private donations in a desperate bid to stave off widespread famine in coming months, describing conditions in the war-stricken nation as “hell.” The World Food Program needs at least $815 million in Yemen aid over the next six months, but has only $300 million, the agency’s executive director, David Beasley, told The Associated Press in an interview. He said the agency would need another $1.9 billion to meet targets for the year. Beasley visited Yemen earlier this week, including the capital of Sanaa which is under the control of Iran-backed Houthi rebels. He said that at a child malnutrition ward in a Sanaa hospital he saw children wasting away from lack of food. Many, he said, were on the brink of death from entirely preventable and treatable causes, and they were the lucky ones who were receiving medical care. He said the world needs to wake up to how bad things have gotten in Yemen, particularly for the country’s youngest.

Shock and uncertainty after death of Ivory Coast PM Bakayoko (Reuters) Ivory Coast faced shock and uncertainty on Thursday following the death of Prime Minister Hamed Bakayoko, the West African nation’s second premier to die in office in less than eight months. A close ally of President Alassane Ouattara, Bakayoko, who died of cancer a few days after his 56th birthday, was appointed prime minister in July 2020 after the death of his predecessor Amadou Gon Coulibaly, Ouattara’s handpicked successor. A central figure in Ivorian politics over the past two decades as the country was plunged into a prolonged conflict and a partition, Bakayoko, a jovial character with roots in media and showbiz, emerged as a conciliatory figure, able to talk to all sides of the conflict. His capacity to gain the trust of all sides including former rebel soldiers who staged a series of mutinies in 2017, threatening a fragile peace in the world’s top cocoa producing nation, saw him appointed as defence minister in 2017, and kept the portfolio when he became prime minister.

Nuclear power (Scientific American) Nuclear power is waning, but not for the typical fears. Rather, other ways of generating electricity have just become cheaper and more available. Nuclear power in 2020 accounted for about 19 percent of U.S. electricity needs, a figure that by 2050 is projected to slip to 11 percent according to the Energy Information Administration. Nuclear power is over half of low-carbon electricity generation in the U.S., and is about 30 percent of the world’s low-carbon electricity. The coming years will determine how much nuclear power will play a role in the energy future, as new demos of small modular reactors begin to roll out in the United States.

Tiny internal cameras (Times of London) Thousands of NHS patients will be given tiny cameras to swallow to check for cancer in a new national trial. The technology, in a pill-sized capsule, takes images as it passes through the bowel and beams them to a recording device worn on a belt and shoulder bag. It can then be flushed away. Sir Simon Stevens, chief executive of NHS England, said that the “ingenious” capsule cameras would allow more people to undergo cancer investigations quickly and safely.

[zenithlux]

Cadence Update - 31

Catch up on the story here!

Do you remember me? Lost for so long Will you be on the other side? Will you forget me?

Tourniquet - Evanescence

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Vergil found Roxy alone in the van with a small replica of his cot hanging over her arm. “Nico and Dia finished their project,” She said, her voice solemn. Vergil knew from the whirlwind of thoughts that she was far more distracted than she was letting on. “They think this will help with any future transformations, assuming we get that far.” She sighed as she leaned back against the counter. Her hand brushed the sheath of Kuro’s blade and she flinched putting away. “It’s cold,” She whispered, fully aware that didn’t answer much of anything.

“You can’t be upset with Dia,” Vergil said. 

“Nico said something similar.”

“It was information you needed to know.”

“Was it?” She said. “I don’t know what’s worse, Vergil. The fact that my demon friend took away my memories or the fact that he’s been in love with me the entire time.” She dropped her gaze. “I don’t feel anything. It’s like watching a movie with someone who looked just like me. I don’t know what I felt beyond what was shown to me, nor do I remember anything around those moments in time.” A quick memory flashed through her mind - the screeching of tires, the crushing of metal, and pain shooting through her chest- and she flinched again. “He should’ve taken that memory too.”

Vergil wasn’t certain what to say. He wanted to comfort her somehow. That would be the right thing to do. But what would help? He could feel her emotions, yet couldn’t imagine what she was actually feeling. Why was this so difficult? How would Nero approach Kyrie with something so delicate?

Finally, he said, “He did what he could to protect you.”

Roxy sniffled, but her eyes were dry. “I don’t know what to think, but I know what we need to do.”

Vergil nodded. “We have to keep moving forward.” Or his death would have been for nothing. 

Roxy nodded, and he was certain she’d heard his thoughts. “I have a plan, but I don’t know how crazy it is.” Vergil tilted his head, waiting for her to continue. “ Mundus or Raijin seemed to want my father’s research, but I haven’t seen it, nor did anyone else find it after he died. So what if he just hid it really well?”

“Where do you think it is then?”

“Do you know the pretentious mansions on the edge of Redgrave?” Images of an old, white mansion filtered through his mind; flashes of a life she had long before him.

“I’ve heard of them,” He said. 

“We used to live in one of those,” She said. “Dad used to do all his research in the basement. But when Kuro and I went there after his death, all of it was gone.”

“Maybe someone stole it?”

“I don’t know,” She said. “The room was remarkably clean for a burglary. It was like it all just vanished into thin air.”

Vergil paused for a moment. “How did your father die?”

The painful silence almost made Vergil regret the question. “I don’t know,” she said. “Dia found the body, and when I saw him myself, he’d already been cleaned up for the funeral.”

“Dia never told you?”

“Dia hasn’t told me a lot of things.” While her voice was bitter, her emotions were calm. “I think we need to go back to that house. If there’s any of my father’s work left, it will be there.”

“But Raijin would know that too.”

“That’s the problem,” Roxy said. “We may be walking into a trap, or we might find nothing at all. But I don’t know what else to do, Vergil.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I wish I remembered more about Raijin himself. Surely if I knew Kuro and Dia, I would have known him too.”

Vergil paused, choosing his next words carefully. “Kuro loved you.”

It was silent in the van for a long, painful moment. Then she exhaled and shook her head. “I don’t know if I felt the same.”

“You probably did,” Vergil said. “There’s no shame in that.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” She said, pushing off the counter to stand directly in front of him. She moved shyly, hands wrapping around his waist. He didn’t move, despite his surprise. Why would she want to embrace this form of his? This weakened, skinny, human being who couldn’t fight demons without turning into a slightly more useful cat. Yet… she did… she embraced him as if he were himself, resting her cheek on his chest with a small smile. He could feel her heart thudding in her chest, and the fondness radiating off of her soul. His cheeks warmed significantly, far more than his real form would have. She looked up, embarrassed. “I care for someone else now… and I think Kuro accepted that.”

Vergil couldn’t help but smile, if only a little bit. “Is that so?”

She rolled her eyes and batted at his chest as she pulled away. “We’ll probably want to bring Dante or Nero since we can’t exactly teleport there.” 

“And if we don’t find anything?”

“It has to be somewhere, and we’re going to find it.” A silent I hope passed between them as she looked away.

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If Vergil agreed with Roxy on anything, it was the fact that yes, her house was the sheer definition of pretentious. The entire thing was rather comical if he was honest. The white mansion was shockingly pristine, despite being surrounded by sheer destruction. Every other structure that once surrounded it was in pieces. Homes had been decimated. Fountains, gardens, fancy fences, and anything else Vergil could think of that might have to do with affluent people lay scattered in all directions, mixed with dead roots of the Qliphoth that hadn’t disintegrated, other plants that had grown out of control, and lots of dirt. 

Her home, however, was also alarmingly pristine, and Vergil was almost certain that demonic magic of some kind had to be involved. There was no other explanation why the white bricked, blue-roofed mansion stood before him without a scratch, or why the dark green grass, well-trimmed bushes, and lush trees were growing right on the cusp of the apocalyptic scene right beside them. If Vergil didn’t know any better, he might have thought it was dropped here a few days ago… and not something that had survived a month-long demon invasion and six months of recovery. 

“This is quite impressive,” Nero said with a low whistle.

“I’ve wandered by this a few times,” Roxy said. “But I never even considered it was protected demonically.” She gazed up at it in thought. “I guess he was pretty close to Dia…” 

“Have you gone inside recently?”

She shook her head. “I was still bed-ridden when my father passed away. And when I could finally walk… I just couldn’t do it.” She sighed. “Too many memories, especially after my mother moved out.” 

“We’ll make this easy then,” Nero said as he reached for the door. But when his hand touched it, a violent shock snapped against his hand. He yanked it away. “Son of a-”

Vergil frowned, reaching out himself. The same spark hit him, but not as hard. “It’s demonic,” He said as he pulled away from the gentle thrum of energy. “Is it possible Dia put this up?”

“Maybe,” She said. “I can try contacting her but…”

“You might be able to get in another way,” Nero said. 

“But wouldn’t other people have thought of that already?” Roxy said. 

“Maybe,” Vergil admitted. He wouldn’t be surprised if looters would have tried to break into the home just as they had many of the houses nearby. But surely Raijin knew of this place too. Had he tried getting in? Theoretically, he had but Vergil didn’t know how long Raijin had been with Mundus. If it had only been a few months, then maybe he hadn’t tried yet. If it was years… then surely Mundus knew. 

Vergil resisted the urge to sigh in irritation. He hated the fact that he had to think about it being a trap at all. He was confident he could have taken on Raijin and maybe Mundus himself if he had his own power. Nero was clearly strong enough to handle bigger demons, though Vergil hoped Nero never had to see the former demon king as he and Dante did. Or Roxy for that matter, but Vergil had a feeling that they would all have to face Mundus someday.

Would Vergil be ready?

He really wished he knew. 

“Hey,” Roxy said softly. “It’s alright.” Vergil glanced at her as she rested her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s focus on getting through this part first, okay?” 

He glanced at her, nodded, then turned his attention back to the door. “It may respond to you.” 

“If I do… what exactly?” She said. 

“Maybe you can use some of that ice magic you used the other day?” Nero said. 

“But if it responds to Kuro’s magic, wouldn’t it have responded to Raijin too?” Roxy said. 

“If Dia made this, she may have kept Raijin out,” Vergil said. 

“So she knew he would go back to Mundus?”

“Does it matter?” Nero said impatiently. “We need to hurry, yeah?”

Roxy stared at her hand, and Vergil could feel her uncertainty. “Feel for that power,” Vergil said. “The same coldness you felt when you summoned that wall, and what you feel when you go into stasis.” He paused for a moment, glancing at Nero. But his son wandered away, his eyes locked on a different part of the house. So, Vergil gently took her hand into his and met her gaze. “Think of the strength you felt the day I triggered. That is the type of demonic power that lingers within you.” Almost without thinking, he kissed the back of her hand, never taking his gaze from hers. “You can do this. You just need to trust yourself.” 

She gently reached out and brushed his cheek with the back of her fingers. After another moment, she released a chilling breath that sent shivers down Vergil’s spine. Her eyes glazed over with a light blue. The temperature of her skin dropped drastically and he watched with quiet fascination as ice surged up to her elbows. Then, she moved past him and pressed her hand to the door. A flash of blue light pulsed out in all directions, revealing a thin layer of ice that had been invisible even to Vergil’s demonically enhanced eyesight. The ice shattered but vanished before it did any damage. “I’d say that did it,” Nero said as he joined them. “Now lets hurry before anyone shows up.”

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Vergil shouldn’t have been surprised at how pristine the home was. No human could have gotten through that barrier. But there was something eerie about it. The furniture and floor were covered in plastic. The walls had been painted a matching white. There were no pictures on the walls or anything on the shelves. He couldn’t imagine anybody living here, much less Roxy and her family. But she moved with confidence, leading them right to the door that led to the basement without any sort of hesitation, despite it being hidden in one of the side rooms. 

“This is where Dad worked,” She said as they climbed down the stairs. It was the first time Vergil had heard her speak of her father so fondly. He knew they had had a good relationship, but she’d always spoke of him distantly. Maybe that had just been her way of accepting his death. “I didn’t bother him very often. At least, not before mom moved out.” She opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into an empty room. Vergil thought it was a wine cellar but with significantly more light fixtures that all spurred to life as Roxy flicked on the switch. “And as you can see… absolutely nothing’s been left behind.” “Seems convenient that your father was able to remove everything before he died,”

“Or it was cleaned out after,” Roxy said. 

“By Dia maybe?”

Roxy shrugged. “It’s possible.” She ran her hands along the wall, searching for something. “If there were any secret entrances, the mechanism to trigger it must have been removed with everything else.”

“If we find something, we could break it down,” Nero said. 

“And risk breaking everything inside?”

“Yamato’s pretty good at cutting through specific things.”

“True.” She knocked on the wall. “See if you can find a hollow spot.”

Both Vergil and Nero nodded, splitting up to the far corners. Vergil shifted to his Shadow form, sniffing along the edges as he pawed at the floor. Nero knocked on the walls, moving much faster than Roxy. Though Vergil could feel her uneasiness as the ice crawled further up her skin. “Control it,” Vergil growled. 

“I’m trying,” She muttered back. 

“I found something,” Nero said. As he knocked on the wall, a hollow sound echoed back. He swiped Yamato out, cutting through the wood with expert precision. The wooden slab cut clean in two, revealing small hidden nook behind it. Inside were two items; a thick, yellow notebook, and a CD. Nero removed both, confused. “That’s it?” He said. 

“That’s a lot,” Roxy said as she took the CD from him. “It’s a DVD,” She said. “Why would there be a random video hidden away like that?” 

“We can watch it at home,” Vergil said. “For now…”

A shock of electricity smacked him in the side. He clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to howl as pain swept through his smaller form. “Vergil!” Roxy said, but he swiped his tail at her before she could touch him. He looked up through his haze, unsurprised to see Raijin standing on the stairs, arms crossed. Electricity crackled off of his skin, and his eyes were glowing a sharp purple. 

“I’ll make this simple,” he said, looking to Nero. “Hand over the notebook, and the other two get to live.” 

“Like hell,” Nero snapped. “They’re not that fragile.”

Raijin’s eyes narrowed. “That is a strange bet for you to take.” He stepped down into the room, glaring at Vergil. “Your father is severely weakened after that pact he made, and overloading my brother’s heart wouldn’t take much. He moved his hand toward Roxy, but Vergil shifted back to his human form and stepped in the way. Raijin rolled his eyes. “Putting you in stasis won’t be that hard.”

“Nero will kill you before that happens.”

“Afraid that’s not possible,” He said. “So instead of wasting all of our time, give me the notebook.” 

Vergil looked to Nero, then back to Raijin. None of them knew what was in the notebook, but Raijin didn't seem to know about the CD either. But if he’d been standing there long enough to see one… surely he’d know about the other. Why wasn’t he demanding they hand over both? Was he scared it wouldn’t work? Was there something else on his mind?

Did he want them to keep the CD?

“Give it to him,” Vergil said.

“You can’t be serious,” Nero said. 

“Trust me,” Vergil said. “Give him the notebook.” Vergil knew he was making a gamble. He knew this might blow up in his face. But he would take responsibility if it did. He would deal with Mundus if it came to that. But for now…

Nero clicked his tongue but tossed the notebook Raijin’s way. The demon caught it without looking, his eyes falling on Roxy. “You’re wasting his power,” He said. “You could do so much more.”

Confusion radiated off of her. “Why are you telling me this?” Roxy said. 

Raijin scoffed. “My brother left his legacy to you, yet all you do is squander it on petty parlor tricks.” But as he spoke, Vergil could see the pure agony in his eyes. Pain Vergil recognized better than anyone. Memories of Nelo Angelo slipped into his head. Roxy looked at him alarmed, then went back to Raijin. “Wait…” She reached out toward him.

“You can’t save me, child,” Raijin said. “You couldn’t even protect him.”

“Then it’s true.” She said. “Mundus has…”

Raijin howled, grabbing at his head as he stumbled backward. “Don’t you dare say that name!” He snapped. “I can’t… I won’t…” He roared, transforming in a flash. His dragon form ripped through the floor, scattering bits of furniture and wood in all directions. He lunged at Roxy, eyes wild with fury. Nero darted in front, brandishing Yamato. Vergil grabbed her, trying to pull her away in time.

The roof collapsed. A burst of wind smacked into Raijin’s side, shoving him out of Yamato’s path. A yellow dragon landed in the wreckage, roaring with all its might. Raijin transformed back, scrambled to his feet, and ran. 

Nero shifted forward, but Vergil grabbed his shoulder. “You kill him and we lose our link to Mundus.” 

“He’s getting away with information Mundus wants.”

“Very little,” Roxy said as she glanced down at the tape in her hand. “Look how much he left.” She looked up at the yellow dragon, and her grip tightened on the tape. “That notebook won’t be enough, will it Dia.”

The dragon’s blue eyes flickered to Roxy’s, but she didn’t transform back. “It will be enough for Mundus. Raijin will live.”

“You think he’s being threatened?” Nero said. 

“That’s how conscription works,” Dia said. “Your father would know.”

Vergil glared at her, but it was slight. “He’s likely being tortured,” Vergil said. “But Mundus will believe this was all that was left and leave him be.”

“He can’t be that stupid,” Nero said. 

“The notebook is enough,” Dia repeated. “And we are all running out of time.” 

[razieltwelve]

Boar (Final Rose)

Fang tried not to laugh as Diana watched the boar they’d killed roasting over the fire. 

“How much longer, mommy?” Diana asked.

“It’ll be done when it’s done. Staring at it won’t make it cook faster.”

“What if I shoot it with eye beams?” Diana asked. “I could totally do that.”

“Then you’ll incinerate it, and it will taste like charcoal.” Fang shook her head. “Just be patient. Good things come to those who wait.”

Diana stared at the boar. “But I’ve been waiting for like ten years, mommy.”

“It’s been five minutes,” Fang replied. “Look at your scroll. You started a timer.”

Diana looked at her scroll. “Mommy!” she cried. “We must be in a time bubble or something! It says we’ve only been waiting for five minutes, but I know it’s been way longer than that!” She looked about furtively. “Maybe Aunt Serah is hiding in the bushes or something.”

Fang opened her mouth to tell Diana that there was no way Serah would do that before remembering how the pink-haired woman had repeatedly used her Semblance to mess with Vanille’s instant noodles and microwaveable food. Serah really could be that petty, especially if she and Vanille were having another one of their little battles. “Look… I’m pretty sure your Aunt Serah isn’t hiding in the bushes.”

“Maybe we should check.” Diana looked around, eyes shifting from one genetic template to the next. “Hmmm… I don’t think she’s around unless she can make herself invisible and not radiate any heat or Aura.”

“See? It’s not her.”

“Maybe Aunt Vanille used a time bomb on this area?” Diana said. “I did eat her pizza pocket when I was at the lab. I didn’t know it was hers, and it was just on the counter, but maybe she’s mad.”

“Diana, I doubt your Aunt Vanille minded. She has entire freezers of pizza pockets, and she knows how hungry you get.” Fang had a hard time believing Vanille would get annoyed over something like that, especially when it involved Diana. “And she’d be more likely to send a killer robot or something.”

“I guess…” Diana looked back at the boar. “How is it not done yet?”

“Diana… it’s been seven minutes.”

“AH!” Diana looked skyward. “This is a disaster!”

“Calm down. A good boar takes a while to cook. I told you that. Remember? We’re cooking it in the traditional Yun style, which takes longer but tastes better. Now do you want to rush it, or do you want to wait and eat something that tastes way better?”

“I guess I can wait.” Diana made a face. “But maybe we could cook something else as a snack while we’re waiting. How about a rabbit?”

“If you catch one, we can cook it.”

Diana promptly vanished into the woods and returned with a rabbit. A quick glance at it told Fang that Diana had felled it with a well-aimed pebble.

“You know, I’m kind of surprised you killed a rabbit,” Fang said. “Doesn’t your class have a rabbit for a pet?”

“Yes, but this is different.” Diana struck a pose. “We’re in the wild, mommy. It’s kill or be killed out here. You’re either a predator or you’re prey. And it’s not like we’re wasting it. We’re going to eat the rabbit.”

“That’s one way to think about.” Fang began to prepare the rabbit. “Now, pay attention. This way, you can cook one yourself if you need to.” She bit back a grin. “And, yes, we could both eat it raw without any problems, but it tastes better cooked.”

Diana nodded. “It tastes way better than grass too.”

“Have you been eating grass?”

"I wanted to see if I could.” Diana shrugged. “I can, but grass doesn’t taste that great, and it’s not very filling either. I can eat tree bark too, but that’s not any better.”

Fang chuckled. Ragnarok could eat anything. Anything. “Diana, maybe don’t eat tree bark unless it’s an emergency.”

“I wonder if I could eat an elephant,” Diana murmured. “It’s pretty big, but I can get pretty hungry…”

Fang ruffled Diana’s hair. “You probably could if you transformed, but I don’t think you should. It might freak people out, and it’s not like there isn’t other stuff to eat.”

“Hmm…” Diana rubbed her chin. “Maybe I could eat a shark then. It would be kind of funny. It would totally think it was about to eat me and then wham next thing it knows I’m eating it!”

“If you’re going to eat a shark, don’t do it where your mom can see you,” Fang advised. “She won’t be happy.” 

“Good point.” Diana’s stomach grumbled. “I hope the rabbit is done soon, and then maybe the boar will be done after that too.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Ragnarok can pretty much anything. Whether it’s rocks, trees, animals, or even Grimm, Ragnarok can eat it. Heck, Ragarok can even eat dirt. Of course, not everything tastes that good, which is why Diana doesn’t just around eating rocks all day. However, it does make for an interesting party trick. There’s nothing quite like eating the bullets your opponents shoot at you.

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