#otherwise I am - strangely enough - an optimist

[freepassbound]

🤹‍♀️ - If you could take a year off from work or school and still get paid, how would you spend your time?

🥜 - What is your biggest pet peeve?

🥛 - Is the glass half full or half empty?

🤹‍♀️ - If you could take a year off from work or school and still get paid, how would you spend your time?

Ah. Well.

The thing is, this is basically what 2020-2021 was.

...it didn't go well.

Of course, if it were to happen again, there would be an option that was not available at that time - and it is undoubtedly what I should do (or even be compelled to do): travel.

Just lots and lots of trips, domestic and international, of varying length, with some intermissions at home to rest between.

🥜 - What is your biggest pet peeve?

These days, it seems to be other drivers - or at least that's the one that gets triggered the most often. I mean, is it that hard to drive competently?!?

🥛 - Is the glass half full or half empty?

Well, that depends what the glass is related to.

Me personally? Half empty.

Friends? My home region? Humanity, long-term? Half full.

[bloodsbane]

thoughts and feelings bc i think i need to Expell so i can get in with the day

obviously this sucks

i keep thinking about my family. i love them all very much. but the oldest tier of my family is very white, very mormon, and it's weird and distressing to know most if not all of them voted for trump. it sucks being the one mixed/brown person in my family, one of the few of my generation who is openly queer to any degree, and to know my family chose this.

i know it's not hatred, or at least i hope not- a few of my aunts/uncles have gotten radicalized in the last decade in ways it depresses me to dwell on. i feel it is mostly ignorance, that benign cruelty of convention and normalcy that makes it easier not to think about it too hard

anyway, im excited to see my mom and some others for thanksgiving, but it will still feel strange in some ways and i hate that this is something i have to feel. it'd almost be better if my family wasn't kind and funny and loved me, but they do, and it's all at the same time.

part of me wants to start being more vocal and unpleasant if politics ever gets brought up, bc maybe that's the issue, no one encouraging or challenging them to think otherwise, but i am not confrontational, nor do i feel informed enough to feel confident in speaking up that way. id feel stupider to fight like i know anything when im just as shallow in my knowledge as any of them might be.

but still. maybe ill be louder in my queerness. remind them where i stand. sure. ill become the little stereotype they voted not to see as much, just so they understand that if that side is getting hurt, im included

i should really try talking to my family that's my age more, but again, white and mormon- im only vaguely aware that i have cousins who are queer, and their lives are still very different and separate from mine

i worry a lot about disconnecting from my family when my mom passes away. none of this is helping

anyway, otherwise, idk. ive been crying a bit and just processing since i woke up. this sucks but my nature is to be optimistic lest i succumb to dread and inaction. even if we didnt win, people still showed up, and i know there are people around me and out in the world who will fight against what's coming. i will try to find ways to fight, too. that's all there is to do i guess. as well as manifesting some very unkind things happen to certain unnamed parties.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I am very curios, do you have any ideas for Disney songs as themes for the Cullens/Volturi?

I mean, I hadn't thought of it before this ask, no, but we'll see what we can come up with.

I'll just do the Cullens so this post doesn't become unwieldly.

Alice

I almost went with My Strongest Suit from Aida. However, that's about the singer's insecurity and hiding this with fashion (believing she has nothing else to offer) and that's not really Alice.

I don't have anything for Alice as she's a very strange character at the end of the day and not one I can see a parallel to in Disney which means there's no song that suits her that well.

Bella

Belle from Beauty and the Beast or Part of Your World from The Little Mermaid. The first is that Bella is in this small provincial town that she feels better than and falls in love with an isolated creature she's not supposed to. Bella undoubtedly feels a lot of kinship with Belle. The second is how Bella views vampirism, the grass is always greener relationship where she earnestly wants to become something she doesn't fully understand with a teenage optimism.

Carlisle

I'm going to cheat a bit here and pull out The Rainbow Connection from The Muppets Movie as DIsney currently owns the Muppets. There's a lot of Carlisle in Kermit, I personally think, and he's in his own way one of those stubborn head in the clouds optimists that the song describes.

Otherwise, slightly less cheating but perhaps still cheating, I'll pull Someday from The Hunchback of Notre Dame post-credits song. It's the Somewhere of the Disney repertoire in the hope that, someday, people will be better than they are now.

Edward

You can't spell Edward without Hellfire from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Nothing is closer out of the Disney repertoire to Edward's self-loathing, temptation, and guilt.

Emmett

You can't spell Emmett without bear puns, and there's no song more laid back and bear filled in the Disney repertoire than The Bare Necessities. Brings to mind, for me at least, Emmett's laidback personality and approach to life.

Esme

Esme's not really exacting enough to be Mary Poppins (practically perfect in every way) but I'll pull out A Spoonful of Sugar anyway as it seems like the kind of advice Esme adheres to. Namely, that all you need to approach tasks you dislike are to make some element of fun to them.

Jasper

The closest I can think of is Rest and Recreation from the stage adaptation of Hunchback of Notre Dame. It's not right in that Jasper's reaction to fleeing the battlefield is not to become a partier (as Phoebus is portrayed here) but it does at least address the pointless bloodshed of war that Phoebus is desperately fleeing from by any means he can.

Renesmee

Out There from The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Obviously, this is very headcanon land of where I think the Renesmee story's going but I feel like hers will be a story of longing for the outside world that's slightly more desperate/marred than A Part of Your World (in that Renesmee can never truly belong among humans due to vampirsm).

There's also What's This? from Nightmare Before Christmas (the film was produced by Disney along with Tim Burton) In that I imagine the human world is so new and exciting to Renesmee and unfamiliar to her with no idea what anything is.

Rosalie

I really wracked my brains, but I couldn't come up with anything. The thing about Rosalie is, for obvious reasons, nothing really like her story happens in the Disney films. So, we don't get a character song that really emphasizes who she is, what she went through, and how she recovers.

As much as I stretch the other ones, I really have nothing for her.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I think they're mostly gonna follow the campaign arcs:

S01 - Come Together (ends with the kidnapping, but they might go all the way to the Lorenzo Fight)

S02 - The Bad Guys (the Avantika arc, maybe ending in Felderwin)

S03 - I think this would be a mix of The Bright Queen's Favor and Swords and Angels (so the Xhorhas arc + Obann arc)

S04 - I think this would begin with Family Ties, so the Caduceus, Isharnai and Travelercon arcs, and then, if they thought 5 seasons is too much, they do Strange Magic in this season too.

Otherwise, S05 is the Strange Magic arc, and possibly the Uk'otoa confrontation

It's very possible. Things are going to be condensed to fit into TV, but I think that knowing that VM will likely be 5 seasons (I'm being optimistic about further renewals don't at me) to finish, M9 is going to take 7. We have more episodes, more content, more backstory from villains that we get to fit in, etc. They could condense M9 enough to get them all the way to the Lorenzo confrontation, but that would be cutting out a lot.

The reason I'm arguing for Zauberspire is because it's a pretty big cinematic moment, it introduces plot threads that you don't realize will be relevant that are for the whole series.

Of course, they could cut out the early stuff. The carnival fight, the fight in Alfield, etc. and start in Zadash and adjust things that way. If they start there, then yes, I would 100% agree it will end with the Lorenzo confrontation.

I am hoping that they start in Trostenwald purely because I am greedy for content.

[tarithenurse]

Accidental Partners - 12

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Sam Wilson &/x fem!reader Contents: Angst and pining and sweet sweet destiny. A/N: This is it – the last chapter. Thank you for reading and for the kind words and especially the reblogs.

12. Speaking up

...  Sam   ...

I should ask her what she wants to do now, Sam tries to motivate himself, at the very least I might be able to put in a good word.

The boys are off with their friends. Bucky, Sarah and [Y/N] are sailing the river...and Sam is supposed to be training but instead he’s just sat with the shield, staring at nothing. A butterfly flutters over and lands on his hand, almost startling the worried man with its light touch.

[Y/N].

He never meant to fall so hopelessly in love with her as he’s done and really, he doesn’t want to admits that that’s what has happened but it’s kind of hard to pretend otherwise. Sarah would scoff at me for realizing so late. Too late.

Sometimes, like the time they hugged, Sam likes to think that there might be a smidgen of feelings in return...but then a voice inside comes up with all sorts of reasons for why it can’t be. The two favourite? She’s stressed. She’s just lonely right now and would welcome anyone. Has she hugged Buck? There’s a strange twang deep inside Sam’s chest at the thought.

Would it be unfair to admit what I feel instead?

The possibility is daunting but there’s a pink dash of optimistic hope to it which seems really pretty right now as opposed to just giving up.

“Yes,” Sam tells the butterfly, “I need to talk with her.”

It flutters away.

...  Reader   ...

You find Sam by the old willow that’s been padded to withstand the bashings it gets from the shield. You’ve seen him train with it, watched how he throws it deadly and precise at anything before it either bounces back (almost magically) or gets wedged hopelessly into the target – you’d never be able to pull it free then, but Sam can.

Right now, he’s dragged the barbecue out under the tree and is preparing to light it.

“Sam?” you begin tentatively, heart thrumming in your chest, “there’s something I want to ask you...but I’m not sure how to, so please just let me finish completely...okay?” You can’t figure out what the look in his eyes means as he nods in answer but you have to do this anyways – you’ve even rehearsed what to say. “These last months have been...crazy. And I know I’ve imposed on you guys...you most of all.” Here you had expected some sort of protest but nothing comes and it disheartens you. Still, you carry on: “I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done, Sam. And I just...over these months...you’ve come to mean a lot to me.” The man in question slowly walks around to your side of the barbecue and you’re suddenly very aware of the golden flecks in his dark eyes. “What I’m trying to say is...” What am I trying to say? He’s standing right in front of you now and all you can notice is the burning attention he’s giving you. Come on, think! “What I’m trying to say...is that...” Again your voice falters.

“I know I promised to let you finish...but there’s something I’d like to say first if that’s okay,” Sam whispers.

You shake your head. No...I have to do this now or I’ll never get another chance. “Sorry,” you offer with a halfhearted attempt at smiling, “but I’m afraid I’ll lose my nerve otherwise.” Encouraged by a soft nod by Sam you go on. “I know I’m more or less off the hook. For now. That I’m free to go wherever...thing is that I don’t want to say goodbye, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s voice is hoarse. “My turn?” You nod. “I don’t want to say goodbye either and I was so afraid of it that I might have withdrawn.” You can’t help but arch an eyebrow at the choice of words. “You have no idea how much it means to me that you won the trial...but it’s like all of this has become more than just that for me. [Y/N]...whatever you want now is up to you...however...I’d be thrilled if I could be a part of it somehow.”

A warm sensation rushes through you and your heart that already was busy speeds up even more. “I’d like -” you have to clear your throat first before you can finish the sentence -”I’d like that very much.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam offers as he raises a hand to gently wipe something from your cheek.

Tears. All the stress and worry you’ve held bottled up inside the last days must have begun to spill over and you find that you can’t stop it once it’s started. Soon you’re bawling and you don’t want it to end because Sam has wrapped you in his embrace and you feel more at home than ever before. All you can do is to hold on to him as you ride out the storm.

“It’s okay, babe,” he hushes you helplessly, “it’s okay.”

“I kno-o-ow,” you hiccup, “I’m j-just so re-re-relieved!” You take a deep breath, readying yourself for the final spurt: “I though you ha-ated me all of a sudden.”

Warm hands cup your face, tilting it towards him and allowing him to wipe the tears from your eyes. “I could never hate you, [Y/N],” he professes, “I love you.”

That shuts you up. Stops the tears in their tracks. The entire world falls away and it’s just Sam and you standing close to each other.

I should say something, but you can’t get your vocal cords to cooperate. Instead, you kiss him because you don’t know how to answer now that your voice is failing you. You must taste salty and wet, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

...  Sam  ...

He can see the gloating smiles being exchanged between Sarah and Bucky but it doesn’t really matter. Not this time. Not as long as slender fingers interweave with his own strong ones as the sun is setting.

“Can we go sailing again tomorrow?” [Y/N]’s voice breaks through the reverie in a whisper.

“Sure,” Sam concedes without a moment’s hesitation, “we can all head out tomorrow.”

“I’d...I’d like it to be you...and just you.”

He’s sure Bucky’s keen ears must have picked up on the little conversation, but the man doesn’t comment on it.

Sam nods. “Whatever you want, babe.”

[yandere-sins]

Maybe some inspiration for a yandere kitsune atsumu fic?? I just imagine him coming across you hiking in the woods one day and he’s like “you’re cute I’m gonna keep you!” He thinks it’s cute to have a pet, something that is his alone that no one else can have

Oooh, thank you! I love the idea! Enjoy!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

This wasn’t how he usually did things, but what about him was ever normal?

If Atsumu wanted to mingle with humans, he’d go down to the town at the foot of the mountain. Roam its street, flirt a little with the giggling girls he met, or play with the children. In the hundreds of years he lived, he sometimes needed the change from his otherwise dull life. Atsumu was way too strong to brawl with the other creatures, and his own kind was too proud and traditional to be around of. So all he did was eat and sleep, occasionally do some trickery or run from the rain. It wasn’t a very fulfilling life to him; he didn’t even have a mate to share his days with, so what really was there left for the bored kitsune?

But you, you weren’t a usual thing either.

Few to none ever got lost in the forest that coated the mountain he lived on. There were too many rumors about strange creatures inhabiting these lands, of people going missing and turning up talking nonsense about what they experienced here. And even then, if someone wandered up here, it was usually an old monk with spiritual powers on a pilgrimage who could find their way around.

So what were you up to in his part of the forest? Perhaps you were lucky it was just his territory, or you might have already been torn up by an oni or lead astray by anything else. Instead, Atsumu had been following and watching you for a while as you moved through the lands. He waited patiently while you rested at the river and shushed away some of the animals that came too close to you for his liking. You might not recognize a deer as something dangerous, but he didn’t like thinking about the marks it would leave if it decided to bite. But now you were closing in on the end of his territory, and from then on, he wouldn’t be able to watch over you anymore, instead, having to go back to his utterly boring day in his utterly boring life.

That’s not what he wanted to let happen.

“Leaving already?” you heard behind you, instantly turning around in surprise to hear a human voice in the uninhabited forest. Even though you were tense, you didn’t seem immediately alarmed by his presence, Atsumu hiding his more extraordinary features behind magic. “Who are you?” you asked him curiously, and he lifted a hand, pointing back into his territory.

“I take care of the temple here. Not many humans come across it, have you made an offering?”

Imitating to be a shrine caretaker seemed to work as your shoulders relaxed, and you turned to him fully, flight instinct dispersing. “I must have missed it. I’m sorry...”

“No problem,” Atsumu was quick to chime up happily. “I can show you where it is. You wouldn’t want to continue on your way without divine protection, would you?”

Hesitating, you looked back at the path over your shoulder before shaking your head. “Certainly not. It can’t hurt to have some protection on this mountain, can it?”

You quickly caught up to him, and Atsumu laughed as you implied the rumors, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you believe in yokai?” he teased you, and you quickly spluttered that you weren’t afraid of these things, putting on a brave face. However, twiddling with your thumbs gave away that you did mind - a lot.

Cute, Atsumu thought.

You soon enough started to tell him all about your adventure after he initiated the conversation with, “What are you doing here?” telling him you were just wandering to get some clarity of mind. Atsumu took the time you were talking excitedly to study your features. Humans were all so unique, and even if he was able to imitate their looks, he always found himself mesmerized. Foxes usually had just one topic when it came to looks: How unique and shiny is your coat? But it was different for humans. They dyed and cut their hair as they wanted, changed their bodies significantly over time. Their noses were all very different, eyes as unique as their gestures or voices. Humans were so much more interesting than the other kitsune, even if Atsumu didn’t envy how weak they were.

“There we are,” he interrupted you merrily at the foot of the staircase leading to the temple. There really were old, rotten temple grounds on top of the steps, but one you wouldn’t be allowed to see. Humans had long forgotten and abandoned this place, justifiable even, as it was too hard to reach and maintain. No one could even come here with all these dangers. But back in the days, he remembered how much he loved watching the humans build it and pray at it, before when the humans still co-existed well with the spiritual world. But it wasn’t like when he was a little cub anymore. It was his home still, but not one he would show you.

“Well then,” you chuckled nervously, eyeing the stairs. You two began the climb in silence, your eyes mainly on the unmaintained steps, trying not to fall over them. Even focused, you were quite the adorable one, and he appreciated how chipper and optimistic you had been all the way here. Yes, you certainly were a special human, Atsumu decided, his determination only strengthening the magic that was forming halfway up the stairs.

With how little you looked up, you didn’t notice how the stairs kept coming and coming, as if in a loop. Only the feeling of exhaustion was growing on your part, but when you finally looked up, Atsumu could see your eyes growing wide with the wonders you were seeing.

“Do you like it?” he asked, inching closer to you. You were so amazed by the gold and red of the beautiful, large temple spreading out before you, you didn’t notice him taking a whiff of your scent, a mix of soap and sweat, but nothing he found terribly appalling. After all, it was your scent, and he’d find you with it no matter where you went. The scent of his human.

With a delighted giggle, you took the last three steps, leaving Atsumu behind as you looked around you. You seemed to be in awe by how beautiful the temple was that it even made Atsumu forget for a second that this was just how he created it with his magic. “Who’d have thought there’d be such a beautiful temple in the middle of nowhere,” you mumbled before finally turning around to your guide.

“You must be taking really good care--”

Only then did you notice the prominent features of a fox spirit peeking out of his hair, his tail slowly wagging behind him. Of course, in a world of his magic, he’d not be able to keep up the appearance of a human, but you had long crossed the borders to the spiritual realms. It didn’t matter anymore if you recognized him or not.

Still, you backed away in shock while Atsumu always drew closer to you no matter how many steps you took back. “I am glad you like it. Why don’t you stay here?” he asked, and panic spread in you as you looked around to find a way out. Only briefly did you look to your left and then him again before you bolted. You were quick, but if he had run after you, he would have been faster, no question asked.

Instead, Atsumu approached his home - the place he lived in all alone until now - calmly, sitting down at the stairs to the temple and waiting for the loop to bring you back. No matter how far you ran, you eventually stumbled back onto the property, falling to your knees as you didn’t expect the open space. “Welcome back,” he greeted you, and even more panic crossed your expression. For every sadistic spirit, this would have been the absolute height of pleasure, seeing their prey so desperate, but Atsumu concentrated on the most important things.

He’d need to create a room for you. A room fit for a human, where you could feel at home while you stayed here with him. “Do you like beds or futon more?” he asked you as you stumbled back over the temple grounds the second time. You gave him a confused and flabbergasted look before booking it into the other direction again. Even if he wasn’t like the other kitsune, Atsumu decided to keep it traditional with a futon.

It took you three more times before you came to a halt in front of him, asking, “Why? Let me go! I want nothing to do with the likes of you!”

“Ah, too bad,” Atsumu sighed, standing up, and for the first time, you looked up to him properly, like the good tiny human you were. Even at your size, Atsumu was a towering force, making you feel relatively small next to him, a mere illusion from his magic. You wanted to complain as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up close to his body as if he tried to melt you two together, taking another deep breath. “I always wanted my own human. Everyone said how great it is to have one just for myself, and here you are.”

He felt you shiver in his arms at his words, and it brought a smile to his face. “You’re so adorable~ Why don’t you just stay here with me and let me have you?”

“N-No!” you said firmly, using his moment of inattention to push him away roughly. “Your kind just wants to play with us and make us crazy! I want to go home! I won’t play with you!”

“Play?” Atsumu mumbled before a broad smile grazed his lips. “Do I look like a child to you? I have no such intentions. If you want to leave, by all means, leave. I know you’ll come back all on your own.”

Anger festering in your expression, you huffed before turning on your heels, running towards and down the long staircase. How could he be so sure that you’d come back? Well, you were long caught in his realm, and he had sent out the invitations to everyone on the mountain to look at his darling little human.

It was just before sunset that you crawled back to him, having seen the horrors of true monsters that wanted nothing more than to drool on you and laugh about how pitiful you were. Maybe Atsumu did want to play with you a little bit, make you a little crazy, but mostly show you there were worse creatures waiting if you left his side. Instead, he’d keep you with him safe and sound, his arms wide open as you returned, making you fall right into his lap and into the comfort he offered to you, brushing over your head as tears streamed down your cheeks.

“I’ll definitely leave tomorrow,” you announced bitterly. “Sure, sure~” he merely pitied you, picking you up and carrying you inside the temple. In a few weeks, this would probably get boring, but by then, he’d surely come up with another method to keep you busy. And until then, he had a futon to share with you and a world you could never escape from until he decided to let you go.

But why would he ever let such a cute, amusing human go?

[yandreamings]

Hooray, thank you so much! 🥺 Sorry if I messed up your schedule of things lmao!

For a match up, my I'd like a man! I am an INFP Cancer that LOVES to cuddle, I literally cannot survive unless I am cuddling someone, it's just a big love language of mine! 🥺 I've been told I am very emphatic, a bit brave lmao, sweet, cute, optimistic and bubbly!! I love making others smile and I hate it when my friends are down in the dumps, if they're sad I get sad too y'know? I LOVE sweets, yogurt, and pretty much anything related to potatoes!! My hobbies would include playing Genshin (LMAO), writing, listening to music, watching anime/tv shows, listening/reading scary stories and true crime (I have a big obsession with this!!), simple daydreaming, being with friends and taking long walks! My not so good traits would be that I have a big problem with procrastinating, I get moody really easily and I'm not very good with first impressions... I have the kind of personality that you'll either bloody adore or despise, in-betweens are RARE. I've also been told that I can come off as a bit too blunt at times which does intimidate some people at times. I often just say whatever is going on in my head, not really thinking things through but no matter how stupid they are I always save myself in the end. 🙃

Also, congratulations on 200 followers! It's really cool to see you grow and you deserve it! I hope your blog explodes and becomes super popular! Thank you so much sweetie! ❤️

Of course! And you didn't at all, please don't worry. Tumblr has a tendency to be a real pain in the ass sometimes! Thank you so much; it means the world to me, especially coming from you! 🥺Apologies for the delay, and I hope you enjoy. <3

I match you with… DAZAI OSAMU!

Has Dazai died and gone to heaven? Is he seeing the pearly gates? When you first speak to him, that's all he can think- you're an angel, so bubbly and kind, so lovely and easy to talk to! He has never been one to grow attached to someone so easily like this, but there's something strange about you that hooks him in. Good luck!

Even if you think your first encounter was a one-off interaction, you'll see him more. Popping into your workplace to surprise you, seeing you at your favourite cafe and other meetings that are just too odd to be coincidental.

Being touchy by nature, Dazai is more than happy to help you with your cuddling habit. More often than not, he makes excuses to have his hands on you in one way or another. He'll claim it's just because you're so cute and he can't resist you, which is true, but it's also a not-so-subtle way to hint to those around you that you're taken.

It's all good and fun in the early stages, but he starts to show his true nature soon enough. He's jealous and possessive, manipulative and controlling... he says it's all for your own good and that he's just worried about losing you, but the glint in his eye tells you otherwise.

Your empathetic and sweet ways will be taken advantage of very quickly. Oh, you want to go out with friends...? He thought you were going to stay home and have a night in with him... what's that? You'll stay after all? Aw, he knew you'd come around!

When you're on one of your long walks, you can't help but feel like someone has their eyes on you. And you're right to feel that way- do you really think he will let you wander around on your own? Don't be silly! Someone might just take you as their own, you know? He can't have someone else touching his darling.

Well... he's hypocritical in that way because sometimes, all he can think about is snatching you up and keeping you in his arms for the rest of your days. You wouldn't mind, would you? After all, he loves you so much.

[chronic-claire-universe]

Congrats on reaching 500, dear Claire! 💜💜 You deserve every single one. I hope to see your blog grow even more!

I'd love to participate in your milestone event!

Hmm, where to start...?

My personality type is ENFJ. I am a pretty open and outgoing person and I love talking to people. I am a pretty musically inclined person and I play a lot of instruments, compose music and produce songs.

I also enjoy doing a ton of sporty activities. Generally I am the person to ask when you're looking for someone to try a new hobby with you. I love doing new things!

I'm a very optimistic person and I just enjoy spreading love. Empathy is something that comes easy to me and I am good at comforting people. Sometimes I tend to be a bit too emotional. That's definitely one of the things I should still work on.

I'd pick headcanons if that is okay and I'm okay with nsfw (my age is in my bio, I am 21), but you can just pick betweeen sfw/nsfw. Whatever floats your boat at the moment!

Fandoms I pick: Jujutsu Kaisen and Haikyuu.

Thank you for your time! Wishing you all the best on your fanfiction-journey💜

Loni babe, thanks! Hearing this from you means a lot 💜 Anyway welcome to the ice cream parlour here your cone, hope it will be your taste!

Jujutsu Kaisen - Megumi Fushiguro

Opposite attract and your relationship with Megumi is the proof of this saying.

Megumi seems to hate loud and energetic people but his friends say otherwise, but here we're talkin about love relationship. So how did he finish with you?

He discovered you in one of your breakdown, he was (and still is) there to listen to you and see through your positive facade.

If he's a good listener your positive vibes and energy help him opening up and beeing more cheery.

He loves bringing you to arcade because he knows you could love to play and in the end he discovers that he enjoys it as well.

Dates include to suspicious shops which sells strange books about urban legend, but his favourite ones are the one to the ferris wheel after a day at the luna park or going to the mall to buy snacks and rent a dvd for your movie night.

During movie nights you don't know why but you always finish on his lap making out.

In the beginning he really struggled to start anything sexual with you, but by the time you just need the right scent and outfit and his hands will start to roam on you.

Sex on the couch is a habit but once Yuji found you he got so pent up that he became really aggressive with his trusths and leave your ass cheek bruised.

After that occurence you love to tease him in "public" places to let the beast within him come out and fuck you senseless.

He has stamina, in fact most of the times he becomes really rough the second round will be all about licking you and slow but deep trusths.

In these loving moments you will enjoy lot of moans and praises. Do the same because Gumi needs them and you will earn a blissful and long orgasm

Haikyuu - Yuu Nishinoya

Doing new things? Post-time skip Noya and even highschooler will be totally perfect for you!

Weekends with him are never the same! Trying new foods at a restaurant, trying new foods at home!

I headcanon you finishing at E.R after playing twist with him, you laughed all the time despite the pain of the wound in the chin 😂

Noya is a good companion for adventures but he can also be a good partner in hard times.

i don't know why but I have the idea in my mind that when you're feeling down you lock yourself in a secluded place.

No one knows where you are, no one except Noya. "y/n I'm here", his love language (physical touch) is enough to let you ease down your breath and relax.

In these times the silence lead you to teary make out where, even in a public place, he gets you undressed and starts to make love with you.

Not sex, love, your connection and his praises are his way to let you know that he loves you.

He's really passionate and never leave you unsatisfied, making you come both with his tongue and cock.

Overall your relationship could appear as outside you're best friends, but inside the wall of your house and in bed his devotion spreads like a fire ❤

Hope you like this, I got really excited and sad writing this, love you 🥺 join my special event in here !

[middleearthpixie]

More Than Meets the Eye ~ Chapter Eight

Summary: Arielle oversteps where Thorin’s shoulder is concerned and Dis is even more determined to make a match between him and her friend, Belle.

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Arielle (Elen) Farran (female OC)

Characters: Arielle, Thorin, Dis, Belle Caisys

Rating: T

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4,257

Khuzdal Translation: Afsêl - fuck (although I’ll confess, I still might not be using it correctly here.)

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being

Previous chapters can be found here and on AO3

If you'd like to be added to the tallest, please let me know. :)

By her second morning, Arielle was a bit more sure of herself. If Thorin suspected something was amiss, surely he’d have said so by now. And since he didn’t, she stood before his door with far more confidence now.

She rapped carefully, mindful of her bruised hand, and her belly only fluttered a tad when Thorin growled, “Come in.”

Some of her confidence faded at that growl. He certainly didn’t sound happy and well-rested, and she wondered if she’d made a mistake in not waking him the night before. Perhaps his night on the sofa left him with a sore neck in addition to a sore shoulder…

If his mood was foul, it would be unwise to keep him waiting, and so she pushed open the door and oozed around it. “Your Highness?”

“In here,” he called from his bedchamber. “And I thought we agreed, you’d save that for when others are around?”

She winced. “I know we did, but… it seems more appropriate.”

He let out a heavy sigh and muttered something beneath his breath, to which she replied, “I beg your pardon?”

“Come and help me.”

Oh, he was touchy today. She winced again as she hurried toward his bedchamber. “I’m coming. Have you been awake long?”

“Long enough to notice my valet was not here.”

She paused in the doorway. “I beg your pardon, but you did not tell me what time you planned to rise today. Otherwise, I would have been here. And it’s only half-six now besides.”

Regret wove through her as he glared at her through narrowed eyes. “Were you in here last eve?”

Heat ran along the bottom of his voice and for a moment, she considered lying, telling him that perhaps Lady Dis had come to check on him. But, she’d told enough lies as it was and did not wish to add to them if she didn’t have to, so she drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I was, yes. You were asleep on the sofa and I didn’t think I should wake you.”

For a moment, she thought he was going to scold her, but then, his glare faded. “I thank you but next time, wake me. If you would run my bath now, I’d appreciate it, since I didn’t get to wash last eve.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

A strange calmness settled over her as she went into his bathing chamber and opened the taps, mindful of having only one good hand. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice, although it looked even worse today. The cuts had scabbed over, but it was a lovely shade of purplish-blue and her fingers weren’t keen on responding. The pain was more a dull ache, expect when she straightened her fingers. Then it became something more of tiny fireballs beneath her skin.

She stretched them now, air hissing through her clenched teeth. Fireballs.

Footsteps sounded, drawing near. Her belly fluttered a little, her mouth seemed drier than usual, but she didn’t have that all-over sense of panic that came the last time she’d run his bath.

Am I getting used to this?

She couldn’t imagine that happening at all, being comfortable around a naked man. It seemed impossible. Although, prior to now, she’d never even seen a naked man, so perhaps that explained her initial foolishness.

Of course, he wasn’t naked in her presence yet, so perhaps she was being a bit too optimistic. Especially when she heard his approach and the butterflies magically multiplied.

He came into the room wearing the same dark blue silk robe as the previous morning, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Yes, definitely too optimistic.

She spun away, pretending to busy herself with selecting a towel as he said, “I’ll need you to lay out something a bit more formal for me for this evening.”

“I can do that.” She didn’t know what he meant by formal, but supposed a quick perusal through his wardrobe would probably offer up an idea. She leaned closer to the towels, squeezing her eyes shut as the soft schwiff of silk sliding—most likely over his shoulders—reached her ears.

Since she certainly couldn’t keep her face buried in a stack of towels, she tugged one free. Or, that is, she tried to tug one free. It stuck to the one beneath it, which stuck to the one beneath it, and when she pulled, all three came out at once. The bottom two hit the floor with a soft whump and she could only stare at the crumpled pile, her cheeks growing hot once more as a gentle slosh reached her ears.

He was in the tub.

She was safe.

For the moment.

She snatched up the towels, quickly refolded them, and stuffed them back in their cupboard, then, steeling herself to not drop the soap or to grab his butt cheek, she turned toward him.

A mistake.

Such a mistake.

He had yet to lower himself into the water.

Mahal…

It was like being slapped in the face, only worse, because she didn’t think she’d like being slapped in the face.

Looking at the man standing before her?

That she didn’t mind so much.

He was, in a word, amazing.

Fortunately, he sank into the water, so she couldn’t stare. Or drool. Or do both. Because she certainly wanted to. If all men looked like he did—muscled and solid, and—oh, mahal… women were very fortunate creatures. Very fortunate, indeed.

Swallowing hard, she took the cake of soap from the other night from its dish on the edge of the tub, and grabbed a fresh wash cloth, and handed them both to him. “How does your shoulder feel this morning?”

He dunked both under the water and went to work scrubbing, while she tried not to stare as he dragged the soapy cloth across his furred chest, then down his left arm. Tried, but failed. She couldn’t help it. He was just a fine physical specimen of a man and like an equally fine work of art, demanded to be studied.

But, she couldn’t very well stand there and just stare at him, so she moved to gather his robe from where it lay alongside the tub. “Do you need me at the moment?”

He held out the cloth. “My back, please.”

“Of course. Let me just set this—“ she looked for a dry spot on the tub’s rim, found none, and so turned to hurl it from the room, then turned back to find him just staring at her—“there?”

He just shook his head. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

She took the cloth, and the soap, and reminded herself what she would and would not do, and moved toward the back of the tub.

“What happened?”

She froze. “I beg your pardon?”

“Come here.” He reached for her hand when she came back into his line of vision. “What did you do to yourself?”

“I didn’t do it.” She met his eyes. “You did.”

“Me?”

“Last evening. I know I’m supposed to knock and if I had, then I probably would’ve woken you and you could have bathed then, but then I thought perhaps you just went to bed early, but what if something had happened to you? So, I came in to check on you and found you asleep on the sofa and I didn’t think you’d be comfortable sleeping in your boots, so I pulled them off and one came off easily, because that foot was on the floor, but your other foot was still on the—”

“Elen!”

“Oh, right… sorry.” She tore her gaze from his, focusing on her mangled hand. “When I tried to take your left boot off, you stretched and stomped on my hand.”

His eyes widened. “I did that?”

She nodded. “You did.”

“Let me see it.” He caught her by the fingers and she couldn’t hold back her yelp as he pulled and they straightened.

Thorin’s grip eased. “I beg your pardon.”

“It’s fine. They’re just a little stiff this morning.”

“Do you wish to go see Narnerra?”

She shook her head. “No. The more I move them, the less they hurt.” A complete lie, but she didn’t want to get anywhere near the Healer for herself. Too many things could go wrong. “So, if I might start?”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” She moved back to where she’d been, then went to work. This time, her head stayed more level and she did not drop anything, and when she finished, she set soap and cloth on the tub’s rim. Then, in one hand, she caught a heavy silver rune braided into the right side of his hair. “Do you need to take these out for me to wash your hair?”

He nodded. “I can do it myself.”

He set to work untying the leather strip holding the braid in place, and as he did, she moved to fetch the silver pitcher. When she returned, there were several small runes, a larger silver ornament depicting a raven, and a heavy-looking silver cuff with something etched into, lying on the side of the tub.

“If you would, please put these in my bedchamber, in the dish on the low chest.”

“Of course.” She gathered the pieces and the leather strips and did as he asked. After she set them in the dish, she paused to look at the portraits once more. The three men all bore a resemblance to each other—Thorin’s ancestors? Brothers?

“Elen?”

“Oh, right…” She hurried back into the bathing chamber and picked up the pitcher to dunk into the tub. “Those portraits on your chest, who are they?”

“Dis, her sons, Fili and Kili, and the other three are my grandfather, Thrór; my father, Thráin; and my brother, Frerin.”

“Tilt your head back, please.”

He did, and she carefully poured the water over him, catching any that sluiced along his temples. Then, she took the soap, sudsed her hands, and buried them in his hair. She swallowed hard for the countless time as his eyes closed and a low sigh rose to his lips. No, it wasn’t a sigh. It was more like a purr, and it did the oddest thing to her. Her insides melted. They just… simply… melted…

Fortunately, her outsides held her together, otherwise she would have just puddled on the floor, an unrecognizable blob of goo.

She took her time, took care not to snag in any knots or tangles, and when she rinsed, she made certain no soap ended up anywhere near his eyes.

“Don’t move,” she cautioned as soap trickled along his forehead. She shifted, moving to the side of the tub to lean over and rise the lather away from his face.

His eyes opened then and she found herself staring into them. Oh, Mahal, they were so blue. So very blue and fringed by such thick, black lashes. Why were men the ones blessed with such beautiful lashes? Her mouth went dry. All she could think about was leaning in and pressing her lips to his to see what they felt like. To see if they were as soft as they looked, for they did indeed look soft. She had never kissed anyone before, only Elen and a peck on the cheek didn’t count at all.

But she wanted to kiss Thorin. In fact, the air around her almost crackled with her desire to do so. All she had to do was lean just a smidge closer and…

“Elen?”

She jerked back, turning away as heat filled her face again. “I—I beg your pardon. It’s quite warm in here…”

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I’m fine. Let me just get you a towel and I’ll go fetch your clothes.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply, but stood and hurried from the bathing chamber once more, pausing only to scoop up the blue robe. Back in his bedchamber, she sank onto the edge of his bed, face in her hands, and tried to both gather her thoughts and calm her racing heart at the same time.

“You need to take care,” she muttered, “before you give yourself away, fool.”

But she couldn’t help it. She was drawn to him in a way she had never experienced nor could explain. And that could only mean trouble.

“Pull yourself together, Ari,” she whispered tugging open the left side door, where his trousers were stored. She grabbed the first pair she saw, snagged small clothes, and a dark blue tunic, and hurried back before he thought she somehow got lost again.

He’d already risen from the tub, but thank Mahal, had a towel wrapped about his waist. The inside of her mouth would be chewed to bits before much longer with the way she kept chomping down on it, but she did it again.

“Do you need my help?”

He shook his head. “No. I think I’ll manage fine on my own.”

“Very well. I’ll wait outside. Just call if you need me.” She set his moved to the doorway, where she paused. “You said you needed something more formal for this evening?”

He nodded. “My sister has decided it is time I married, and so is shoving a friend of hers at me. The lady is supposed to arrive sometime today and while I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea, I have to make it look good, so…”

Her gut twisted uncomfortably. “Is she, now?”

He nodded, draping a second towel over his head to rub his hair. “She is and since it’s easier to— afsêl!”

He stopped, his right arm falling to his side, that hand clenching into a fist. She set down the garments on top of the towels. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he gritted, unclenching then clenching his hand again. “It’s fine.”

“Let me help you.” She stepped up to him, took hold of the towel, and gently swept it along his hair.

After several minutes, he caught the towel and emerged from it. “That will suffice. Thank you.”

“Of course.” She managed to smile as he draped the towel about his neck. “You should see your healer about that shoulder. Before it’s too late.”

Darkness flashed through his eyes, but then he sighed and nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Do you need my help dressing?”

“Possibly only with my shirt. Stay within earshot, if you would.”

“Of course. Again, I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded and left the bathing chamber once more. She perched on the sofa, her thoughts jumbled and muddied over his sister bringing a friend to meet him. The sting of bright green jealousy tore through her. There she was, with a naked Thorin only feet away from her, and she could do nothing about it because he thought her a man, while this nameless, faceless-but-no-doubt strikingly beautiful friend of his sister’s was perfectly free to flirt with him, to let him steal a kiss or two, or more.

And all she could do was stand off to the side and watch.

Watch as he strolled with this nameless, faceless-but-no-doubt-strikingly-beautiful friend. Watch as he laughed with her. Watch as he—

“Elen?”

“Coming.”

She shoved the nauseating thoughts from her mind to join him in the bathing chamber once more, where he held out the dark blue shirt. “I cannot lift my arm over my head.”

“Go and see your blasted healer, then!” She hadn’t intended to snap at him, but the words came out of their own volition and with very real irritation fueled by that horrid jealousy. Taking care not to jostle his arm too badly, she drew the right sleeve over his arm, then moved around to work the shirt over his head. “And do it before it’s too late, already. After six months, it is plainly clear it is not healing of its own! Any fool can see that, why can’t you?”

He just stared at her. “I beg your pardon?” he finally growled, reaching for the laces.

“It has been hurting you for months now, hasn’t it?” She didn’t wait for him to reply as she rolled on. “So, a sane man would go and seek help. A sane man would want to fix it. A sane man—“

“Need I remind you of your place, Elen?” The words were a low growl, Thorin’s deep voice heavy with warning. “Because you seem to be on the verge of forgetting it.”

Heat climbed into her cheeks as she forced herself to meet his furious, sapphire-eyed glare. “It’s simply—”

“I care not how you justify it. You are out of line. I think you might be best served today to remain in your chambers and think about whether or not you wish to remain in service here.” Thorin shoved by her and stalked from the room. “I will tolerate many things, an uppity valet is not one of them. You may go now.”

“But,” she gestured to his head, “your hair—“

“I can do it fine on my own, thank you. You may go."

“Very well.” Embarrassment burned through her as she stalked by him and left his chambers to return to her own. Once she closed the door, she turned toward it and thunked her head against it. What was she thinking? She had completely overstepped and now paid the price, although it wasn’t nearly as steep as it could have been.

Still, she had to be careful. He was bound to get suspicious about her odd behavior. Should she forget her place again, she would probably find herself bodily tossed from Erebor. So, whether she liked it or not, she had to ignore the way her belly fluttered when she was near him, and to ignore the way his gaze was almost like a physical touch when it landed on her.

Had to ignore that overwhelming urge to lean into him and cover his lips with hers.

Too bad it was easier said than done, however.

Thorin stood in the vaulted entry to the Great Hall, the scene with Elen still at the forefront of his mind. It unsettled him to a certain extent because he had the most maddening feeling his valet was close to kissing him when he was bathing. Unnerving, to say the least.

He also noticed something about Elen. Up close, the lad had no beard to speak of, not a hint of whiskers at all. Now, he knew Elves grew no facial hair—which was just one more in a long line of faults as far as Thorin was concerned—but he also knew Elen was not full-blooded Elf, and he was not the first half-Man/half-Elf Thorin had ever met. He was, however, the only one he’d met to have no sign of facial hair at all.

Which made him wonder.

Was it possible Elen was not a man after all?

And if he was a she, where was the true Elen?

Was the Arielle in Dale actually Elen? Which meant…

He groaned softly, closing his eyes as wicked hot embarrassment swept through him. Had he allowed a woman to bathe him? To see him naked?

“Kakhf,” he muttered, which earned him a disapproving glare from the two women passing by him. He ignored them, pushing away from the wall. He had to find out the truth about Elen, but wasn’t exactly certain just how because if he was wrong…

Only he didn’t think he was wrong.

Still—

“Thorin!”

He bit back a groan as Dis crossed over to slip her arm through his. “You are far too cheerful this morning,” he told her. “It isn’t healthy.”

“Belle arrived late last eve,” she replied with a grin. “And I am anxious for you to meet her.”

“I haven’t even had a chance to have a cup of tea,” he said even as she steered him toward the far end of the room. “Might I at least eat before you foist this woman on me?”

“I am not foisting anyone on you. I am merely introducing you and letting nature take its course.”

He rolled his eyes. “Letting nature take its course? Do you even hear yourself.”

“Oh, stop being such a grump and perhaps you might even smile a bit? You’ll frighten her if I introduce you to her and you do nothing but glare at her.”

“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want that to happen,” he muttered.

“Hush.” Dis tightened her grip on him as they neared the far corner and he felt some of his sour mood fade as his gaze alit on the pretty dark-haired dwarf who smiled as they drew near.

“Belle, this is my brother, King Thorin. Thorin, this is Belle Caisys.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” Belle’s blue eyes practically sparkled as she bowed in greeting.

“Please, that isn’t necessary,” he told her, the rest of his sour mood going by the wayside as she smiled up at him. “Thorin is fine and it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly be so informal,” Belle shook her head, which sent her cascade of blue-black curls bobbing madly. “But, I must confess, Lady Dis has spoken of you so often, I feel as if I already know you.”

“I wish I could say the same, but I’m afraid she’s told me almost nothing of you.” He glanced at Dis, who narrowed her eyes briefly at him. “Now, if you ladies will excuse me, I have to eat and make my way to a meeting in Dale. Miss Caisys, it was a pleasure to meet you and I hope my sister shows you around to your liking.”

He didn’t wait for Dis to protest, but turned to head back toward the kitchens, where he hoped he’d find something small he could eat on the road to Dale. He didn’t mind meeting Miss Caisys, but he still had things to do, so Dis’ matchmaking would have to wait a while.

Or so he’d hoped.

She caught up with him, snagged his arm and said, “Could you be a bit friendlier? I promise you, it won’t kill you, no matter how much you think otherwise.”

He turned to stare down at her. “I was friendly. But I also am busy.”

“I know you are, but you can send Dwalin or Balin in your stead.” She tugged on his arm. “Take one day off, Thorin. Show Belle around. It will do you some good.”

His first instinct was to argue with her, but he knew from experience it would do no good at all. He could argue until he was blue in the face, and in the end, he’d still be squiring Miss Caisys around Erebor or around Dale before luncheon rolled around.

“Dis, if I do this, will you leave me in peace for the rest of the day?”

“Am I being such a pest? I’m only looking out for you, you know.”

“Why don’t you try to find your future daughters-in-law instead?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Bite your tongue. Kili is talking about returning to Mirkwood and Fili has no desire to settle down. And neither option makes me happy, but if I deny Kili, he will become only more determined and Fili will double down the harder I push him as well. ”

“Well, neither do I—”

“You really don’t have that luxury, Thorin. You are the king.”

“Your sons are my heirs.”

“Thorin.”

“Dis, I really don’t wish to argue with you, but—”

“Belle is perfect for you. You’ll see. You simply need to give her a chance, Thorin. Just be nice to her.”

He cast a glance over his shoulder at Belle, who sat chatting with Dori now. “Dis, when you interviewed Elen, did anything about him strike you as odd?”

He looked back to find her staring up at him with a furrowed brow. “Odd how?”

“Just… unusual.”

“Why are you asking me? Did something happen with him? I mean, aside from him grabbing parts of you accidentally?”

“No. I’m merely curious. Did it or not?”

“No, not that I can think of.” Dis stroked her beard with a forefinger. “Why are you asking? And don’t tell me no reason.”

“Elen is half-Man, half-Elf, isn’t he?”

“I don’t think so. I think he only of Man. Why?”

“Only Man?”

She nodded. “I didn’t ask, but he looked more of Man than of Elf and it would have been odd to ask him either way. And you still haven’t answered me as to why you think he might be Elven as well.”

He sighed. “I was merely curious, is all.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe that for a moment. Thorin, where are you going?”

“You wanted me to show Miss Caisys around, did you not?” He moved back toward Belle, grinning at his sister over his shoulder. “So, I’m going to show her around a bit.”

“Thorin!”

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he cut through the throngs to return to where Belle sat, even if his thoughts remained less than settled. He had to find some way to ask Elen about his origins without arousing any suspicion. If Elen was part-Elf, it might explain his exceptionally smooth cheeks, but somehow, Thorin had the feeling Elen wasn’t Elen at all and that his valet was in fact woman.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Letting Go.”

Wrote this today, hope you like it, and hope you all have a great day :)

“We have to take him to a hospital.”

His hearing echoed, his ears rang, and his body felt cold and numb. He hurt all over.

“No! That's the last thing he needs right now.”

“Not to be rude but, are you stupid! The last tie i checked, I am the only one here with a Doctorate in actual doctoring.

The world swirled slowly to the left and then to the right.

“Last time I checked I’ve been in his shoes before. You have any idea what they are going to do, they are going to assume he jumped off that bridge on purpose. They are going to strap him down, which is going to make things worse, they are going to bring in psych, who are then going to determine that he should be locked down. That is the last thing this man needs right now, and believe me I have been in his shoes.” he faded out and then back in again.

“Than what do you suggest.”

“You’re a doctor aren’t you, so as long as we have you, he is going to be fine. Let's just get him back to my hotel, but I am telling you the last thing he needs is a noisy smelly hospital room.”

“And how are we going to get him back?”

He faded back in and back out again, “I can carry him.”

“He weights over two hundred pounds.” “Than I will take lots of breaks.”

He faded out again, this time for a long while, waking up only briefly an unknown time later. He was lying, uncomfortably over someone else’s shoulder and staring at the ground as it passed by below him. Little streaks of light dotted his vision from the pain, and he felt back unconscious before he could really understand what was going on.

***

Kier Lindsay stared down at the young man, watching as the strange little alien creature got to work. He had once heard that multitasking was pretty much impossible for humans as the brain was too interconnected to allow for it, but his creature didn’t seem to have any problems. All four of its arms seemed to work independently of each other as it stitched the unconscious man back into one piece. Looking him over the doctor had determined that he had managed to fracture his good leg and some of the bones in his right arm and side, but otherwise he was less injured than they had hoped. 

Then again this was without considering the psychological duress he might be under at the moment.

He grimaced thinking about it.

He had been there before, he had been there and he had hurt a lot of people in the process.

He continued to watch as the alien stitched the other man up with great precision…

Man? 

Honestly he wasn’t much more than a kid, his face was still smooth, unscared by time . Not a hint of white showed in his blond hair, and as he slept, the lines of his face were soft enough that Kier couldn’t shake the feeling that he WAS nothing more than a child.

A child who had had responsibility placed on him far to soon.

To be only in you late twenties and have command of an entire galactic armada.

That was too much to ask for anyone, much less someone like him. Kier couldn’t shake the thoughts as he stared down thinking about how despite technically being an adult for a long enough time, he doubted this man had ever been given a chance to grow up, at least not in the right ways. Turned to the academy at age fourteen, he had been doing adult jobs for longer than most people. He had been thrown into an environment where intelligence and performance mattered but social opportunities were sort of lacking, and then to be thrown right onto the enterprise and into war before trying to recover and immediately turning back to the one group of people that had failed him so badly…..

Adam vir was just a kid, an overly optimistic too trusting kid who had been taken advantage of by the system time and time again. He was like a golden retriever hurt by his master but still loyal enough to come crawling back.

It almost made him sick to watch, but he knew just by looking at him that he would never consider leaving. 

Even if it were for his health.

Kier sighed and sat down by the bed staring at the boy with his chin cupped in one hand.

He had a son about Adam Vir’s age, a boy that was just beginning to pull his life together into some semblance of controlled. It had taken him a lot of mistakes and a lot of experience to figure out who he was, and he ached for the realisation that this man probably never got that.

He knew the feeling all too well.

He shook himself a little, dad mode was something you couldn’t really just turn off, at least not in his case. If there were people younger than him, he felt the automatic obligation to adopt them whether they wanted it or not.

Young people deserved guidance from someone who was older and the more people to do it the better. Lindsay hadn’t seen any of Adam’s family members at the trial, which didn’t necessarily mean anything, but he also got the impression that maybe the had avoided telling them on purpose, which was another red flag he was going to have to discuss with the boy woke up.

If he woke up.

***

He woke up some time later, though he couldn’t have guessed what time. The room was dark aside from the blue light of the TV. A little bit of natural light filtered in from the window, but rain clouds dotted blanketed the sky above. Rain pattered against the window in sheets obscuring the city landscape.

He groaned and tilted his head to the side.

A soft whimper, and something warm and wet ran over the back of his hand.

He tilted his head to the side.

The room was small, only big enough for a queen sized bed, a tv and a small desk. There was adoor to a small bathroom right next to a door that likely lead out into the hallway. The hotel room was small, but clean.

And it wasn’t his.

He turned his head a little further, gritting his teeth against the pain as his bleary eyes fell on the silhouette of a man sitting at the end of the bed. He was slightly hunched forward one hand resting on his knee as he flipped through the channels.

“Adam, can you hear me.’

He turned his head a little further to the right, to where Kril was standing beside him, a look of concern on his face.

The silhouette turned to face him, no more than a balck blob against the light. It was impossible to make out his face.

“Where am I? He croaked

The man stood and stepped forward, stepping out of the way of the TV and allowing some light to fall on the side of his face, “My hotel room, sorry about how cramped it is, but until yesterday I was kind of short on cash.”

Adam blinked, the cogs in his brain grinding to a slow start as he stared at the man’s face, which was familiar but he just couldn’t…

“Cigarette.”

It was the first word his brain could think of to describe the man when he finally recognised him, and in his goggy state it was the only thing he could think of, “Where do you even buy those these days.”

“Lets just say if I could quit my smoking habit than maybe I wouldn’t be so short of cash…. Anyway, how are you feeling.”

“Like shit…. What…. What happened.”

The other man sighed and pulled up the chair from the desk, sitting next to him, “You must have had a pretty bad PTSD attack. Looks like you jumped off an overpass and then rad headfirst into a brick wall.”

He grunted, “that explains a lot I guess….” he paused, “I thought…. I thought I was doing fine. I felt…. Fine and now…” A hand rested on his shoulder, “I know, I understand.”

Adam blinked, squinting at him slightly in the darkness, “Who are you/”

“The name is Kier but most of my friends call me Lindsay. I don’t know why, guess our days in the army just sort of rubbed off on us, now we only refer to people by their last names really.”

“What were you doing at the trial.”

The man smiled a little sadly, “Watching some assholes git their comeuppance, oh, and being awarded about five million dollars compensation.”

It took Adam even longer to digest that, “You….. you’re Steel eye-” The last two words came out as a squeak.”

Lindsay turned on the light by the bed, bathing them both in a warm yellow glow. Now that Adam could get a good look at him, he saw an older man probably in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was steel grey but well groomed, and he had the body of a man half his age. He wore only a tattered flannel rolled up to the sleeves and a white T-shirt. The back and sides of his arms were dotted with familiar circular scars  all with a silver sort of sheen.

And, surprisingly, little silver dots….

Iron eye implants.

He turned his head to stare up at him, “You…. you are one of the five.”

“Yep, we never met during the war but I’ve been watching your career on the news for some time now. Some real impressive stuff kid.” he smiled, smiled and easy smile of someone who actually meant it.

Adam felt a sudden pang of guilt and shame.

For a moment he couldn’t figure out what it had stemmed from, until he realised. This man seemed fine, and here he was a complete wreck.

“How are you….. Ok after all that?” he wondered almost bitterly.

Lindsay shook his head, “Don’t start with that. I've jumped from one war to another my entire life. I have more experience than you.”

Adam went quiet, “So you were fine…. After steel eye.”

The man snorted, “No… no no, not even close.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”

The man shrugged, “Lost both my legs in the war, one above the knee and one below. When I got home my family didn’t have enough money to get me good prosthetics, so I was pretty much wheelchair bound for a year or so.” he sighed, “I came back a shell of a man to a family who really needed a father. It was so bad for a time, everyday I thought about just…. Not being there anymore. I didn’t  talk to my wife, I didn’t talk to my kids, and when I did speak I was angry all the time or apathetic.” His shoulders slumped, “For a time, I didn’t have much of a relationship with my middle daughter or my oldest son. I had drug withdrawals so bad I even wheeled myself halfway across town to try and find something…. Heroin maybe, anything that might take the edge off,” He snorted sadly, “I see it as a blessing now that no one would sell to me. I went over the edge drinking, and chain smoking and trying to bum pills off of any doctor I could find. Luckily with regulations on pills these days, I wasn’t given any.”

Adam felt his mouth go dry, “That bad.”

He nodded, “Woke up screaming most nights because of the dreams. For a while my kids moved out of the house because my wife was scared for thor safety.” He held up a hand, “Even during that time I would never have hit them intentionally, but my dreams were getting so bad that I would wake up flailing, and I would jump at the smallest sound. Anything could set me off.”

He sighed sadly, “But my wife bless her soul, is the strongest woman I know.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a photograph showing it to Adam with a look of pride so profound  it made even Adam’s heart ache.

What he saw was a nice family. Two younger kids, a teenage boy, and a woman.

She had short black hair spiked up and dark lipstick on, and the look on her face was indicative of someone full of mischievous humor.

“My angel. She stayed by me even though she should have left. I tried to get her to leave, even made my behavior worse at one point to drive her off. She SHOULD have left me, but she didn’t. I had the mot amazing support system. She held me from falling any further into it, and my little girl, my little girl Bethany, that little girl pulled me out by my hair and dragged me back to reality. She was too young to realise how horrible I was being, and she just thought I was sick. No matter how much my wife tried to keep hr away from me, she always came to see me somehow, with ‘medicine’.” 

He smiled, “Generally it was just a tube of baby M&Ms. I refused at first, but she insisted, and the one day I decided to take them just to quiet her down, she told me that I would be all better.”

He waited with pent up breath.

“That night, I slept without nightmares…. The placebo effect is a hell of a thing if a child can convince a grown ass man that M&Ms ar medicine. I woke up and my head had never been so clear in my entire life. I saw what I was doing to them, and to my little girl and to my other kids…. I have never cried that hard in my entire life, but it was just what I needed. Some emotion to break the cycle of anger and apathy. It wasn’t an easy road from there, but I finally got smart and started listening to my wife. Somehow managed to get my kids to forgive me, and from there we worked as a team to get me back on my feet.” he patted the cigarette in his pocket, “This is what remains from those days…. Can’t seem to quit, but working on it.”

Adam was quiet for some time, 

“It was that hard on your family.”

“It was. I am glad they stayed but at the same time I wish they hadn’t been so hurt by me.

He sighed and leaned his head back, “I don’t think that is possible for me.”

A hand turned to rest down on his shoulder, “I know it sounds hard right now but…. I have a theory if you want to hear it.”

He sighed, “Shoot, it's not like I have any other bright ideas.”

“What are you?”

“What do you mean.”

“I mean when all the trappings are stripped away from you, your job and your title…. What makes you…. You.”

He paused for a moment, opened his mouth and then closed it, “I…. Im a….I….” The other man waited, his eyes sad.

The only things Adam could think of were related to his job.

When he was silent for some minutes, the man patted his arm, “All these years of service and you've never taken time to construct a framework for yourself that can survive outside of your job. If you keep defining yourself by what you do and how well you preform than you aren’t going to last. You constantly do everything for everyone else, but why not think about doing something for yourself for once, be completely selfish. Don’t go on vacation because, I bet this will calm me down and make me a better leader when I return, go on vacation because you bloody well want to job be damned.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but the man silenced him.

“Even if you love your job, you need breaks from it. You need to set the line to where your job ends and you begin, otherwise you won’t have a personality left when you are done. Take some time to fix YOU before lending yourself to everyone else.”

He rested his head back, “That sounds….. Difficult.”

The man patted him on the arm, “You’ve proven you can do hard things, now is just the time to do another hard thing.”

Adam nodded but inside his head he was beginning to feel a little hopeless. He knew that Lindsay was right. He knew that he was messed up, and everything he had done up to this point was just going to be a bandage. 

And until he was fixed.

He was going to have to give up a few things.

He hated the idea of hurting people like Lindsay had described, so…. So that meant doing something that he wasn’t going to like.

“Do you…. Do you mind if I…. speak with you…. On occasion.”

The man smiled, “I already put my number in your phone if you need me. I work law enforcement now so I might be busy, but if you need my help Ill do my best.”

***

He didn’t want the court’s blood money. He would have tossed it away if he could, but he knew that was just his confused mind talking. Money was money, so he mostly gave it away. Gave it away to his parents for their retirement, and to his brothers and sisters for their kids college funds. He gave some to his brother to get him a better house in a new area, but he kept some for himself. It would have been irresponsible not to buy himself a house, to get himself a place away from his job and the ship.

He didn’t know where to buy it at first thinking that earth was too mundane but anything further out was too far removed. So, he bought a little private property on the moon. It cost a shit ton of money but, he had that in spades now. He only told his family about it.

They weren’t exactly happy with them when he finally told them where he had been. They had wanted to be there to support him, but he couldn’t find t in himself to feel bad that they hadn’t see the pictures and the videos he had been forced to see. He apologized and promised he would do better in the future.

He felt disconnected from himself.

Out of touch.

The crew of the Omen was just as angry with him, perhaps even more so than his family.. The intervening days that led him back to his ship feeling detached was like…. Some sort of horrible dream. He felt like he was slipping backward down a slippery slope and watching the light fade away from him. 

He was scrambling on the rocks but couldn’t find purchase.

Perhaps it was the idea of what he had to do next that hurt  him so much. Hurt him so much that he didn’t want to think about it, but he knew he had to. He didn’t want to but he knew he had to. It was the only way he was going to be able to feel ok about himself, about fixing himself.

Maybe things would change when he finally came back.

Maybe when he recovered, he could change what he was about to do.

And maybe he was about to ruin it forever.

He walked down the hallway of the engineering corridor despondent, like he was watching himself in third person.

He reached out a hand that didn’t feel like his and knocked on the wall of the ship.

A familiar face turned to look at him from her workspace in the dark. Sunny stood and paused to look at him, “Adam, are you alright.”

“Sunny…. We…. need to talk.”

She paused eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Are you ok.” she repeated.

He walked in taking a seat on her work bench and staring down at his hands.

“Is this about, the trial….. I mean yes I am a little mad that you didn’t tell me. Is it because I’m a Drev, is it because it would have looked bad. I know I don’t understand human politics, but maybe….”

He held up a hand, and she grew quiet.

He sat for a long moment fighting himself on the inside,and then forcing himself to look up at her. He could feel hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes though, for some reason he couldn’t get them to fall.

She deserved that he at least LOOK at her.

He felt sick.

He just wanted to throw up. 

This…. This was the hardest thing he had ever done. 

“Sunny…. I… while I was away, at the trial.”

She stared at him slow horror and confusion passing across her face.

“Well, I learned some things about myself. Number one being that, I….. I never recovered from what happened to me. From Steel eye and the war. Ive been bandaging it up for the past few years assuming that I can fix it, but at this point…. I wonder if I ever will.” He took a deep breath and locked eyes with her, “I’m broken, and until I can fix myself…. I think its best if-”

“No, no no no that's not how this works.”

He continued speaking, “I think it's best if we take a break.”

“NO!”

“Sunny I love you but I. I am not Capable of being what you need or deserve.” he stood reaching a hand forward, “I can’t subject you to myself like that.”

She jerked away from his hand, “that should be MY decision it would be OUR decision.”

“Sunny please…. I am so sorry.”

“On my planet, battle pairs fight WITH each other no matter how hard the battle is.”

His voice shook timorous and fading fast, “And on my planet, sometimes loving someone means letting them go.”

[cateringisalie]

My list of bearable Binal Bantasy VII tags is thinning...

But seriously. Being skeptical of Tifa’s narration of past events is not without merit. By the time the Lifestream scene rolls around she has been through three comas and some grevious injuries. The Lifestream scene is as revelatory for her as it is for Cloud.

The new assertion she was in any way actually friends with Cloud is not only in conflict with the OG’s portrayal but counter to Cloud’s development, her development, the growth of their relationship as adults and why (in general) people have them stay together post game.

Its unnecessary, frustrating and further damaging Tifa’s character who is spinning off further from who she was.

That Tifa and Cloud were not actually childhood friends does not mean they do not have a relationship in FFVII. It does not mean they cannot be together. Tifa “falling in love” with Cloud at the water-tower does not for a second make their later relationship any more meaningful.

All this new ship information does is make the relationship have longer longevity than previously assumed. As if whichever relationship has lasted longer is betterer and stronger. As if this should automatically undercut any other relationship Cloud or Tifa can possibly experience.

(in fact - and darkly cynically - this feels a lot more like enforcing that Cloud/Tifa and Zack/Aerith operate in near exactly the same way. The pairs fall in love in record time (two years prior to the Nibelheim incident both times as far as I’m ware), the boys go missing and the girls never move on with their lives. I get the boys have gone missing without a shred of explanation or closure, but now for both of them people are willing to wipe out a quarter of their lives waiting. Teenagers are resilient you know? They will be inconsolable if this happened but they would bounce back a lot faster and cleaner than they would expect. The approval of the never moving on this is purely to keep the shipping uncomplicated. There can only be one pairing for Tifa, there can only be one pairing for Aerith. And if you think otherwise you’re wrong in canon. And who wants to write or read about a non-canon ship? Unless its yaoi/yuri in any case. I am so tired)

Childhood friends incidentally is not, however much some insist, a common trope of the series - unless you stretch it a fair amount and it encompasses a trivial number of the pairings. And none of the big ones (you know; Squall/Rinoa or Tidus/Yuna).

Could Tifa do with more backstory? Of course. Did Tifa’s mother deserve a name? Absolutely! But not like this. Not when Cloud helping round up cats in Remake is now tied to finding Tifa’s cat in a new authored backstory. This speaks again to the constant magpie-ing of existing imagery and moments from older parts of FFVII to feed the present. The retconning in of importance by changing the meaning of otherwise unimportant moments.

Tifa is not and never was under any obligation to like Cloud as a child. She did not bully him, but neither should she expected to involve him in anything she did. I understand the book has muddied this gloriously, but for what effect?

I mean, I know where the desperation to make Cloud and Tifa childhood friends stems from. I know why you want Cloud to have fallen in love with Tifa at like age 5 or something and for Tifa to fall in love with him at 13. And I rail against it all the time that its not necessary. Being first does not mean better.

Maybe I am old, cynical and exhausted, but I kind of like watching Cloud and Tifa grow closer in FFVII. I like watching Cloud and Aeris grow closer in FFVII. I like to experience these things where I can... experience them? I don’t like reading books which assert things in blunt statements that clarify exactly what the writer intended. I certainly don’t have the patience to wait for a later book to clarify what happened on-screen when I have drawn my own conclusions based on my preferences. Especially as this is all contributing to that continued sense that the OG is a smelly, badly designed embarrassment we would rather tiday away for the crime of being graphically inferior (never mind it was championed on its looks on release) and “goofy” (and apparently unable to run the gamut of emotions I remember from serious to comedy, to silly, to tragic, to pessimistic and quietly optimistic and moving).

I’m coming back to this point to stress it - I want to see the relationship growth. Remake gave me that for Aerith and Cloud even if the details aren’t to my taste. First meeting is awkward because hey, random stranger/Cloud is tired. Cloud gets involved and spends more time with Aerith. And the high-five thing is used as a clumsy/awkward/eh but clear metaphor for how their relationship develops over the course of their time together.

To the point that yes, it makes sense for Cloud to want to rescue her. Less sense for Elmyra and Tifa to be “Well they might not vivisect her” and then delay for two full chapters, but the whole thing flows.

And here’s where I get accused of being a fake fan: I don’t like how Cloud and Tifa’s relationship develops in Remake. Flirting. Tifa being mildly fazed by Cloud claiming its been five years. Scared when he almost kills Johnny. Maybe hurt depending on your resolution scene (hey podcast people! No Gold Saucer multiple dates because too expensive? How are there branched resolution scenes in Remake then?). But there isn’t growth. They seem to fit into each other’s lives without worry, bit of flirting, strange super-intense moments jammed into inappropriate sequences (the train roll, climbing the plate, Cloud remembering the promise unprompted, Tifa not actually engaged with Avalanche’s plans). There’s no sense anything has changed between them, the missed five years has done anything to them.

And I’m sure some would take this as proof of correctness. But... somehow Remake is better for realism despite a lot of new clumsy, but this relationship is not dinged for being implausible? No way does that five year gap not seriously impact any prior relationship to say nothing of developing from scratch.

See this was a neat thing about the OG; while Tifa seemed to have an edge over Aerith by knowing Cloud longer, he was in effect meeting them at the same point in his life and more or less starting from scratch with both. Both ships are valid, and even if Cloud is with Tifa come the end, it doesn’t mean he can’t have romantic feelings about both women.

Oh, but Nojima has changed his mind/always intended it this way. And? I can change my mind about liking what he’s written - and my patience and tolerance of Nojima has waned massively since 1997. To the point where his involvement invokes a pained groan from me.

Plus the hilarious attitude that this is from the same people who insisted “the OG will always be there, stop moaning about Remake”. Well guess what? I don’t like Remake and I don’t really want it around. The OG is better.

Yes, Tifa is under-served and sure, it could be clearer about shipping (but the apparent hostility to ambiguity and personal interpretation is deeply distressing. These things can mean something to you and don’t have to mean the same thing to everyone. Interpreting the romancs - again - not a competition).

BUT

I will take the OG version of Tifa where she believed in the cause, where she had friends (again, yes, the relationship between Tifa and the rest of Avalanche is not well depicted, but it was better than actively curtailing it), where she ran a bar THAT ACTUALLY OPENED AND SERVED CUSTOMERS, where she hated Shinra, where she didn’t know how to treat Cloud because she had only really talked to him once in her life and DESPITE THAT that they great closer and spent their last night before THE END OF THE WORLD together over the Remake.

Where Tifa is wary of Cloud for about 5 seconds, twice and then defaults to constant flirting. Where Cloud is near smothering Tifa every second they’re together and she doesn’t tell him to fuck off once. Where she’s allied with Avalanche but hates their methods (and the pacifists are in a shop around the corner and she is not with them because...?). Where she has some absurd contrived plot about medical bills and buying Seventh Heaven for Barret and Marlene.

Which would lead to a whole other rant titled “Marle is the Worst” but this has dragged on quite long enough.

But seriously; if you argue that we can’t hate Remake because OG is always there, then you have to stop applying Remake back to OG and using it as proof. Which is exactly why many people bemoaned the Remake at all. OG is one thing, Remake is another. I don’t care for the latter.

And I know if anyone does read all this it will be about the meanie Cleriths who diminish Tifa for no good reason. And yes, they are indeed acting in bad faith. But what makes you think for a second evidence will convince these people?

In particular, the argument has raged so long and always will because if people do not like a ship they will not accept it as canon (if they care about this as a factor) NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS. Literally. Look at Loki if you want the most recent example of this.

Canon is to many “what I want” and often does not tally with the general interpretation. And you know, if being “canon” or guessing right early wasn’t triumphed as such a vital thing, we might not get these really terrible and pointless arguments.

Canon is a prize but here’s the big secret: fandom - in general - does not care. FFVII is an excellent case example given Sefikura overwhelms the other ships (and I think AZGSC is close?). And that’s not canon. That’s not even in the ballpark of the Cloud/Tifa vs Cloud/Aerith arena (even give that the former is roughly twice the size of the latter, you already won, so please stop?). Canon is only important if you think its important - and you get some more official art of sequences you can gif. And maybe you get kissing/implied sex/marriage/kids, but most of all you get a smug sense of superiority. And the last is why I have no patience with this.

[glassworkspiderlilies]

verglas

Piofiore no Banshou | Nicola/Liliana, Gilbert | AO3 Summary: At the height of summer, Liliana Adornato arrives at the Visconti manor in the hands of Nicola Francesca. There are unresolved issues between them. This becomes everyone else's problem, too. (Or, Lili wages some psychological warfare against Nicola. The Visconti manor experiences a premature and very severe winter.) Notes: COULDN’T MOVE ON FROM PIOFIORE WITHOUT PAYING TRIBUTE TO MY FAVORITE BOY, NICOLA FRANCESCA....I LOVE HIM. and therefore i shall bully him, just a little. 

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At the height of summer, Liliana Adornato arrives at the Visconti manor in the hands of Nicola Francesca.

The latter is met with thinly veiled hostility. A traitor is a traitor, but Gilbert has made his orders clear: Nicola Francesca is not to be touched. The former, on the other hand, is met with both politeness and interest; though she had been under the protection of the Falzone Family, she is merely a normal girl, and one from the church, at that. There is no problem there.

It's expected that Nicola will be trouble, the largest upset, internal ceasefire notwithstanding. After all, he’s not just any traitor to his Family—he was their Underboss, and a talented one at that. Simply by way of his being here and what he’s already done—he will always be an outsider, no matter how many years he stays with the Visconti or how many feats he performs under their name. As Oliver says: once a traitor, always a traitor.

The Visconti do not expect the lady to be anything but demure and well-mannered, as she has already shown herself to be. Sure, she was living in the Falzone manor awhile and sure, the Visconti are friendlier than most mafia, but both Families are still mafia, and in Burlone, it’s the mafia that rule. As a citizen, Liliana knows how to show her respect, to stay within the unwritten laws.  

But. Within a few days, it becomes apparent that there’s something between Lili and Nicola. Despite the fact that it was he who kidnapped her and brought her here, she looks for him at every turn and is far more at ease in his presence than anyone else’s. The Visconti soldati see her face light up at any glimpse of him, though Nicola rebuffs her approach at every turn, far too busy to entertain her. Otherwise, he never spares a glance. The two have had at least one proper conversation behind closed doors, presumably in which Nicola had reaffirmed her situation and his true colors, but it doesn’t change her behavior.    

The soldati shake their heads and think she’ll get over it; it is apparent she has outlived her usefulness, and even they have heard tell of Nicola Francesca’s pretty string of broken hearts. Eventually those ladies learn to stop lamenting over a mafia boy, and move on.

The soldati are wrong.

Liliana is darling and sweet, kind and optimistic. She is also stubborn.

All of those are weapons, and consciously or not, she uses them.

There are unresolved issues between her and Nicola.

This becomes everyone else’s problem, too.

.

He is avoiding her.

Some interaction is inevitable, yes, but he makes the choices where he can. If she is in the dining hall he will not eat then; if she is in the kitchens he will make his drink later. He leaves the manor before she wakes and returns well past her bedtime. If he must see her or speak to her, he averts his gaze or cuts her off mid-sentence and pushes past him.

Lili had thought him kind, but he’d warned her—he is also a cruel man.

And yet—Lili mounts her rebellion, undeterred.

First is during lunch one day. Nicola walks into the dining room and the chatter quiets before it picks up again; he is used to this by now, more relieved that he does not see Lili in their midst. He goes to the serving table, frowning a little at what he sees. Broiled bream in lardo is the main course.

He hates lardo.

He considers his options, but before he can choose anything, the volume of the chatter fluctuates again, and when he turns he sees Lili sweeping into the room. His heart doesn’t even have time to sink before she’s in front of him.

“Here,” she says, and though her tone is pleasant as ever, her eyes are challenging.

In her hands is a plate, loaded up with food. It looks no different than anyone else’s, but upon closer inspection, he realizes that the fish has been baked, the accompanying lemon sauce a little different. It has no lardo.

Nicola looks at her, and she stares back. Back at the Falzone manor, she’d made a very similar dish to today’s main course, and he’d eaten it without complaint because she had served it to him so happily. It was later that she found out his preferences, but he assured her hers had been an exception.

Now, she serves him the opposite. Despite his treatment of her, she remembered and went through the effort of preparing something else for him.

Lili waits. All around them, the chatter has quieted to a low din, everyone watching the strange almost-fight between them. Nicola should refuse, like he’s always done. She’s tried this before, offering him food, trailing after him and begging him to eat or rest.

She’s not begging now; it is an attack, as much as it is an offering.

Her eyes flicker at his hesitation, and she tilts her head a little.

How much do you hate me? She seems to ask, limpid and melancholy. Will he rebuff her food again this time, despite the other options being something he hates or an unsatisfying combination of side dishes?

“You must have a lot of time on your hands,” Nicola says with a frown, trying to spurn her anyway.

“I’m staying put,” Lili responds, without missing a beat, “So yes, I do. But you won’t waste it, will you?”

Her ample time, or her food? Either way, Nicola can’t think of anything else rude to say. He lets Lili push the plate into his hands.

“Thank you,” he says stiffly, and Lili beams at him.

Nicola sits. Lili does too in the seat across from him, after preparing her own plate. It’s the same as his. The dining room is unable to return to its normal ambiance, a strange sort of frigidness still present between the two of them.

I make what you like. I eat what you like. I sit with you, I eat with you—I am with you.

It is a message, all of it, to him and the Visconti both whether she intends both or not. She stands by him and him only, even now.

Nicola cleans his plate, almost against his will. She’s a good cook, always has been, and the food is…familiar. Comforting.

“I’ll get it,” Lili says softly, reaching for his empty dish, and Nicola looks at her.

Her actions so far have all been servile, but when she looks at him now, satisfaction evident on her face, Nicola feels like a fly caught in a spider’s web.  

.

Nicola is exhausted when he walks through the door, and moreso when Lili pops her head around the corner. Her face brightens even as his darkens, and she offers him a plate of fresh panzerotti, which he curtly refuses.

“You don’t look so good,” she continues, coming closer and practically blocking his path as he tries to move forward, peering at his face. “How about a cup of espresso?”

Nicola freezes at the familiar words, though they must seem innocuous to everyone else. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, and Lili takes advantage of his pause to flit towards the kitchen.

“I don’t need it,” he calls immediately after her, his brows furrowing, but when he finally follows after her, she is already in the middle of preparing one. “I thought I refused.”

She doesn’t look at him, pointedly ignoring his words.  

“You look pale. Having something warm will make you feel better,” she tells him serenely, and Nicola stiffens again.

He remembers this exact conversation when he first brought her to the Visconti manor, only their roles were reversed.

In another few moments, she is handing him the freshly brewed cup.

“Here,” she says, smiling, and Nicola sighs, looking vaguely pained.

“Lili…” he sighs, but she merely continues to hold out the cup of espresso as she pins him with her stare.

The coffee does smell good. He accepts the cup and sips, and she looks a little relieved—had he truly looked so tired, and in need of a pick-me-up?—before turning to make herself a cup of what he presumes will be a caffe latte. She looks vaguely surprised when she turns around and he’s still there, and perhaps it is testament to how exhausted he is because he doesn’t move.

They stand in silence, sipping at their drinks, a world unspoken between them once more.

“I’m happy to see you,” Lili says, very softly, and Nicola sighs.

“Liliana…don’t,” he says, almost apologetic.  

Her mouth twists a little, having expected this anyway.

“It’s the duty of an Italian lady to please the man in her life,” she says flatly, sipping at her coffee in an apathetic manner.

Nicola looks at her in slight disbelief; the fact that she remembers the things he’s said with such clarity to use them against him in such a way…despite himself, he’s impressed.

“You’re not pleasing me, Liliana,” Nicola half-purrs, half-sneers. “Why do you keep doing this? Just be the good girl you’ve always been—“

“The fact that you think that is already a mistake.”

He freezes. Oh, she is good.

Lili is smiling at him, the picture of innocence and elegance, and though she could very well just be repeating his words back to him, suddenly he is questioning whether or not she means it—or rather, how much. She’s not good enough at subterfuge for her entirely personality to be a lie—plus the Falzones have watched over her for a long time. But her behavior has been different lately, hasn’t it, and Nicola wonders—why?  

“Liliana,” Nicola says carefully, “I already told you why I brought you here. If you’re looking for the act I put up back at the Falzone manor—“

“What,” Lili interrupts him, setting her cup back on its saucer with a loud clink, “An unfortunate misunderstanding.”

This time, it’s she who walks away first, letting winter crystallize behind her.  

.

He’s been unsettled since their last conversation, though he tries to put it out of his mind. It makes him more exhausted, and he hears Lili’s voice in his mind, telling him to rest, which he ignores too.

Nicola had told Gil to use and abuse him while he still could, and he still means it. He’s used to being worked hard, but it’s Lili that makes him tired, it’s Lili that—

He sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. It’s time to admit that he does, in fact, need to rest, and thus drag his body back to the new, uncomfortable room he must call home.

As he steps through the door of the Visconti manor, he hears a low, distressed voice, and his feet are already moving before his mind can catch up.

Lili is standing in front of her door, crying. Gil is in front of her, making soothing noises, but the sight of Lili’s tears cuts Nicola to the bone, knocks the air out of his lungs. What happened? What happened?

“It’s just hard,” Lili is saying, as she puts her hands to her face, “I’m just…a little tired.”

“I can imagine,” Gil responds, leaning a little closer. “Say, Lili…”

She looks up, and Nicola’s breath catches in his throat—she is vulnerable now, scrubbed raw, and Gil…

“What if you make a different choice?” Gil asks, and Lili blinks, confused.

“What…?”

“I’m just saying that I would never make a pretty girl like you cry,” Gil says, smiling. “Instead of Nicola, why don’t you give me a shot instead?”

“Gil, I—“

The Visconti Boss leans close, opening the door behind her just as Lili steps back, and in a moment he’s practically pushed her into her room.

The door closes.

Nicola is moving again, feeling cold, cold, slamming the door open again with a bang. Lili has fallen onto her bed, eyes wide, and Gil is smirking. He rips Gil from Lili, and she sits up, a hand over her heart; Nicola struggles to remain calm as he questions just what on earth is going on here. Gil is suspiciously calm in the face of his vitriol—Nicola truly did not think Gil was this sort of person. But after some time, Gil shoots Lili a wry look.

“Guess I won that bet, huh? Or did you want to see more?”

“N-no…” Lili breathes, and Nicola glares at the Boss.

“Gilbert…what do you mean, bet?”

“Your girl here looked so pitiful that I decided to do a little role playing. Say, Nicola…how about ditching the lies for once and saving your effort for the truth instead?”

He laughs then sails out of the room. His words sink in, and Nicola curses Gil’s back with fervor.

And then, it is just the two of them.

“…Thank you, Nicola,” Lili ventures hesitantly, though she doesn’t look at him. “I didn’t think Gil was going to go that far.”

He sighs deeply, shoulders sagging.

“Well, I could tell that you truly were not enjoying the situation,” he frowns. “…Don’t scare me like that.”

She meets his eyes then, and though his brows are creased in anger, she can tell it’s not directed towards her. For a moment she looks hopeful, but then she stares down at her lap, her shoulders tensing as though she is already expecting rejection.

“Can we rebuild our relationship from the beginning?” she blurts, and she puts her face in her hands for a moment. “I don’t mind if it’s not exactly the same as before. Just…please, Nicola, don’t…don’t push me away.”  

He stares at her, and she looks up at him. There are still tears clinging to her lashes, and he remembers: I’m just…a little tired. Suddenly also remembers back at the Falzone manor, where one of his men had politely warned him don’t play around with her too much, followed up by Leo’s cheeky please treasure her, okay? We believe in you!

He sighs heavily. There is an end to all things.

“I won’t treat you as kindly as before,” he warns, but she brightens anyway, and for a second it seems like she might throw her arms around him.

He finds that he wouldn’t mind. He finds that despite his words, he wants to treat her kindly, if it means she’ll smile at him like that again.

“That’s fine!” Lili exclaims warmly, the tension bleeding out of her body. “Thank you, Nicola!”

He shakes his head; there is nothing she should show gratitude for.

“Why are you so happy?” he murmurs wryly, and she giggles a little.

“I just am,” she says, and gazes back at him.

For a moment, it is spring again, and though he still has things to do and burdens weighing upon him, Nicola leaves her room a little lighter.

.

The soldati have gotten used to turning on their heels and fleeing the premises entirely when they see Lili and Nicola together. If people linger around the edges of the snowglobe the two create for themselves when they speak, they get frostbitten—it’s always snow and sleet and squalls around these two. As such, it takes a while before some of them manage to register the softening. Lili is still the one that talks more while Nicola listens, but his lips are turned up ever so slightly now, and his eyes are gentler.

Civility. In some ways, this is scarier; the soldati have only ever seen them at odds, and though what is happening now is certainly better, it is also somewhat unsettling. Spring could be coming, or it could simply be a false alarm before a blizzard kills them all. Burlone has mild winters, but Gil grew up in America, and they’ve heard stories about how bad their winters can get, how freak storms can happen just when you think it’s starting to warm up.

The soldati watch in apprehension, Oliver watches with suspicion, Gil watches with amusement, and the temperature of the Visconti household is still entirely reliant on the two who don’t truly belong there.

.

They talk at night.

It’s truly the only time Nicola can spare, when Lili should really be in bed. But she stays up for him and her smile is so bright when he knocks and opens her door that he forgets he is tired. He owes this to her, at the least; he hadn’t bothered to think it might mean anything suggestive when she’d asked him for this favor, even as he sits on her bed, but he did tease her about it anyway just to see her blush so beautifully. It’s—comforting, to see her react this way again.

“Despite everything…I thought you’d continue to ignore me,” she admits, and he give her a wry smile.

“I should have been about to lie to you without any remorse. But you…how do I say this…” he shakes his head, shrugging helplessly. “You were…surprisingly stubborn. Even I thought I might have treated you a little too coldly, but…you really have no sense of self preservation, do you?”

She laughs a little.

“Maybe just when it comes to you,” she says, “But I also don’t believe everything you did for me was a lie.”

He’s floored on two accounts—her unintentional flirting and her optimism, though she isn’t wrong about the latter.

“It always confused me, why you were so kind to me at the Falzone manor…so when I learned it was only just to use me, well…it was oddly…relieving, to have an explanation.”

Nicola laughs disbelievingly, absolutely mystified.

“You didn’t curse me or hate me or despise me? Not even a little?”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing as she considers, though he answer is near immediate.

“It was painful to be ignored. But hating you didn’t cross my mind.”

Nicola gapes at her.

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, and she simply beams at him. “Unbelievable and impossible.”

“Only to you, Signor Francesca,” she says, her eyes twinkling, and Nicola…Nicola resists the urge to reach out and touch her.

“Well?” he says instead, with a slight cough, “What do you want to talk about tonight?”  

It is evident that she wants to ask about his betrayal, but she curbs the topic just a little to ask about his and Dante’s childhood instead. Once he starts talking, it spills out of him with abandon; by the end, she’s crying, and his heart softens at the sight of her tears. She’d been downcast the first time he told her about his past too, that day he’d fallen asleep on her lap, and he’d felt an odd sort of sadness for it. Now, he is grateful for her sorrow, though it’s mixed with that same sort of strange pain.

A tear escapes her eye and rolls down her cheek; Nicola reaches out and brushes it away, his hand lingering.

“Thank you, Liliana,” he says softly.

“I didn’t do anything,” she protests, but he smiles.

“You cried for Dante, and that’s worth my thanks,” he murmurs.

They are silent for a moment; Lili looks up at him, eyes glistening, tears caught in her long lashes. Nicola gazes back; his hand cups her cheek, her lips form his name, and—

“Good night, Liliana,” he says, and rises from the bed.

Nicola leaves her room before he does anything more.

.

He is shaking by the time he makes it back to the Visconti manor from the casino, Lili in his arms, injured but alive after attempting to take a bullet for him. His mind is awhirl; she had been so strong at the summit of all the Bosses, standing her ground against the three most powerful men in Burlone, so unwavering and perfect. The meeting had gone well, despite him having to see Dante face-to-face again finally, and then…

The appearance of Roberto de Feo, his unusual interest in Lili, and the absolute inanity of his attempting to kill a mafia member in broad sight, on Arca’s neutral territory. Nicola never thought Lili would jump out in front of his shot; Roberto had been distressed too—in fact, that only one who wasn’t shocked was Lili herself. Instead, she’d been so angry at Roberto, so defensive over his slander and attempted murder of Nicola.

She’d only abated when Nicola put both hands on her shoulders and leaned in, forcing her to look at him.  

“Calm down, Liliana,” he’d said firmly, and she’d reached out both trembling hands to cup his cheeks in such sweet relief.

He could have kissed her, right then and there. But she was bleeding, her armed grazed by the bullet. There was no longer any need for either of them be at the casino, and so he’d whisked her away to safety without looking back.

“Nicola,” Lili murmurs, worried, and he bites down hard on his lip.

Even now she’s more concerned with him than herself, when she could have died.

He kicks open the door to her room, seating her on her bed so carefully as though she is made of glass.

“Why did you do that?” he demands, the floodgates cracking, and she looks at him with bewildered eyes. “You could have been killed!”

She gapes, face scrunching up.

“So could you!”

“I’m mafia! We all know what’s coming! I’ll die one day for what I do and it won’t matter. But you?” Nicola looks at her, half wild, then turns away, running a hand through his hair. “Not you, Lili.”

“I’d do it again,” Lili says hotly, her eyes suddenly flinty, and he whirls back, “I saw what was going to happen and I wasn’t thinking when I moved—all I knew was that I didn’t want you to die. You were in danger! Nicola, I—“

He closes the remaining distance between them, kissing her hard and desperate. Lili topples back onto the bed, and Nicola leans into her, twining their fingers together. She’s surprised at the turn of events but only for a moment; she squeezes his hands back tightly, her mouth opening to taste more of him, just as desperate. Nicola presses into her, his kiss all teeth and tongue and unrestrained hunger, and when Lili finally untangles their hands she is fisting hers into his hair, pulling him closer, closer.

Liliana Adornato is a giver; it is her nature, to help and to serve. It’s what she likes to do. But here, with Nicola on top of her, tears clinging to his lashes and his turquoise eyes seeing nothing but her, Lili wants to take. She’ll give him everything he wants, but for once, she wants everything of his, too—his hands, his lips, his attention, and the heat that is vaporizing any bit of ice remaining between them.

“Nicola,” Lili gasps, when they part for air, “Nicola.”

“Liliana,” Nicola murmurs back, raw and ragged.

“I’d do it again,” she whispers, and he doesn’t know if she means jump in front of a bullet or kiss him back or both. “I’d do it all again for you, Nicola.”    

“You’re unbelievable,” he whispers back, and kisses her again, gentler this time, and sweeter.

He mumbles something she can’t decipher, but she repeats his name against his mouth, sounding almost like a prayer.

The second time they part, he stares down at her, torn between agony and desire. She is flushed underneath him, breathing hard, her hair a mess and her shawl having slipped from her shoulders. But then his eyes trail to his handkerchief binding her wound; his face contorts as he regains his proper senses and he tears himself off of her.

Lili sits up, lunging forward and grabbing his arm before he can escape her room.

“Please,” she says, and Nicola looks like he’s in physical pain as he looks back at her, “Nicola, please. Don’t go.”

He goes still and they stare at each other.

“Don’t go,” she repeats, softer this time, and Nicola back towards her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

He surrenders.

.

A light knock sounds at Lili’s door late into the night.

“Come in,” Nicola responds, and it opens just enough for Gil to slip inside.

The Visconti Boss closes the door gently and leans to the side, smiling as he meets Nicola’s eyes. He keeps his voice low as he speaks, as does Nicola.

“Oh? When you responded, I expected to see some clothes off when I opened the door.”

Nicola rolls his eyes.

“Spare me your perversions, Gil,” he says, though he shifts a little as though to shield Lili’s sleeping face.

He’s sitting up in Lili’s bed, perfectly decent, legs stretched out. The girl is nestled against his side, sleeping soundly, one hand entwined with his.

There had been no salacious activities, though the knowledge of the line almost crossed was intoxicating between them, and the sight of each other’s swollen lips was…invigorating. There had, however, been more kisses shared, but in the end he’d simply held her close and stroked her hair as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heart.

Gil smirks, but the expression bleeds from his face quickly enough.  

“She okay?”

“Yeah.”

“And you?”

A pause.

“I will be, especially once all this is over,” he says, a little bitterly, and Gil shakes his head, sighing.

“You still thinking about breaking her heart, after all that? And this?”

He gestures vaguely, and Nicola shoots him a rueful look.

“Haven’t I already?” Nicola asks, and Gil smothers a derisive laugh.

“Far from it. You can be a real idiot sometimes, you know that? Or if you’re waiting for her to break yours…if it even happens somehow, it’ll only be the death of you. You’re in too deep already, Nicola.”

He laughs softly.

“This is a lot of meddling, even for you, Gilbert,” he says, and Gil shrugs.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but—oh, who am I kidding? You know damn well both you and the signorina have turned my manor upside down since you’ve gotten here. Call it self-preservation, for the Family. And besides…I like you, Nicola.”

“Heart’s already taken, Gilbert.”

“Oh, now you admit it?”

Nicola looks down at Lili.

“I’m a dead man walking,” he tries, echoing a past conversation of theirs, but Gil snorts.

“For God’s sake, Nicola, just let her win.”

Gil walks out without waiting for a response, and Nicola is left alone with Lili again.

She’d fallen asleep quickly, despite their heated kisses earlier; all her adrenaline from the casino had finally worn off, leaving her exhausted. He’d assured her he would stay until she fell asleep, laying a hand over her eyes, so reminiscent of her first night at the Falzone manor. He feels at ease beside her, at peace looking at her sleeping face and hearing her breathe slow and even.

He hadn’t been lying to Gil, a moment ago. He still is a dead man walking, no matter how much Gil likes him. It’s Family first, in the mafia, and though he may be a Visconti now, he isn’t one truly. It’ll be an easy choice, if it comes down to him or another Visconti member. He is no longer a Falzone either; betrayal isn’t tolerated, and even if half of the Family doesn’t believe in his betrayal yet, the other half is out for his blood.  

Hell, and Roberto is too, so that’s part of the police force as well.  

The odds are stacked against him, but he still has his goals to achieve, plans that he’s laid for years. Since childhood, when Dante told him through tears that he hated the mafia and no longer wanted to be a part of it.

Nicola will see his plans come to fruition or die trying—freeing Dante is the one thing he will sacrifice himself for. Liliana…precious as she’s become, she does not supplant that.

The girl in question shifts, pressing herself closer against him, sighing softly.

“Nicola…” she murmurs, and he brushes a curl of hair from her cheek.

He only said he would stay until she fell asleep. Nicola has sat here for hours now, unable to bring himself to move.

Slowly, gently, he disentangles his fingers from hers and bends down to press one last kiss to her forehead.

.

He’s still there in the morning.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Of All the Places

Chapter 10

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: Washing up in a small town in Oklahoma was definitely not part of Loki’s plan when he came to conquer Midgard. There is one good thing about it, though: No one recognizes him as the one who just wreaked havoc in New York. So, Loki plans to recover from the battle and move on with his life. The only problem? He’s not sure he can leave you. Chapter Summary: The time has come for Loki to tell you how he feels, and he insist on doing it right. Now he just has to hope that you feel the same way he does. Chapter Warnings: zip, zilch, zero A/N: This was a really fun chapter to write, and I’m so excited to share it. Want to tell me what you thought of it or what you think will happen next? I’d love to hear it! Updates every Friday. Happy reading, all :) 

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @marvelousdaydreams​ @parkastoria​ @lokistan​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​

✥ Start at Beginning ✥ | ← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

His promise to John was one Loki intended to keep. He’d gotten hardly any sleep these past few nights, trying to think of the perfect way to tell you how he truly feels. And, he had to confess, he already missed your warm mortal body snuggling up against him while slept, and waking up to your arms wrapped around him, safe and content. Well, that was all terribly off topic, and Loki refocused on the task at hand, which, in addition to figuring out his dilemma, was not burning breakfast.

The atmosphere in the kitchen was very awkward right now. Papa had stepped out for a minute, so it was just Loki and Mama. They hadn’t spoken since the confrontation in the barn, and he wasn’t sure if it was because she still hated him or felt bad about what she said. He sighed, knowing if he were to ever be with you, it would certainly hurt your relationship with your mother more. It pained his heart to think that you’d never get to meet his mother. That he’d never get to see her again, either. The thought gave him all the confidence he needed to do what he knew he must.

“I am sorry,” he said.

“What?” she said, utterly surprised. Then more hostilely, she added, “What did you do.”

“I have, perhaps, not been as polite to you as I should have, and for that I am sorry. But I need you to know that I mean it when I say I would never do anything to hurt this family. I could not live with myself if I did.”

“You know what James always said?” Mama asked after a moment of silence, her voice breaking and tears welling in her eyes. “He said everyone deserved a second chance. That we’re all just trying to do the best we can, and we shouldn’t judge anyone too harshly. I’m thankful every day that he wasn’t as cynical as I am. So I’m sorry too, for not giving you a chance.”

Loki fetched her a tissue to dry her her eyes. He never had been very good at dealing with emotions and was unsure of what the correct procedure here was. In the end, he just bowed his head and gave her a moment to compose herself.

“I know what you’ve been planning, and though you didn’t quite ask for it,” she began once her tears were dry, “you have my blessing. I really do want my babies to be happy, it’s just so hard to let go.”

“I understand,” he said. “And thank you. My sole mission in life shall be to make them happy.”

Mama gave a sad little smile, almost like she did not believe him. Or perhaps she was just upset for herself at having to move on. Either way, he was grateful they’d come to an understanding. Hopefully a lasting one this time.

“Loki, one more thing,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Your waffles are burning.”

He quickly saved the batch before they were ruined completely. Thankfully, Papa came back to help him soon. Though they were a great deal harder than pancakes, they still came out pretty well, making Loki’s chest swell with pride that he was assimilating so well. He smiled to himself, thinking how this could be the rest of his life with you. Maybe the two of you could even get your own plot of land one day, right near this one. This whole mentality of thinking optimistically was much easier than constantly preparing for the worst, Loki decided.

“Morning, Loki. Did you make those?” you asked, spying the plate of waffles. “They smell great.”

“Thank you,” he blushed. “Would you like to taste one?”

You nodded, and he impaled a small piece on a fork. He held it to your lips, and you ate it, the interaction making his heart stutter.

“It’s delicious! You’re quite the chef, if you ask me,” you complimented him, grabbing the whipped cream and syrup to put on the table.

“Again, thank you, my darling. I’m sure it’s nothing special, though.”

“Sounds to me like you should try it, too,” you said, mimicking his actions from before and feeding him. Needless to say, his cheeks went bright red. “See? Delicious.”

“Morning guys,” John said, walking in. “Congratulations, Loki. I’m glad you finally did it.”

Loki started motioning for him to shut up, immediately understanding that John thought your behavior was due to him telling you how he felt. Alas, that was just how the two of you behaved with each other. Though, perhaps it was good, and he should see it as a sign that you reciprocated his feelings.

“Finally did what?” you asked, completely perplexed.

“Oh, uh, just making waffles. Big step up the breakfast ladder,” John said, giving Loki a subtle thumbs up.

“Indeed! That’s it,” Loki heaped onto the cover up. “In fact, we should eat them before they get cold.”

He shepherded both of you to the table where the rest of the family joined you. He could tell you were all being genuine when you said how much you enjoyed the food. Lies were his specialty, after all, and he couldn’t spot a single one. Except his entire reason for being there, obviously. There was always that untruth hanging in the air, ruining what would otherwise be bringing him bliss.

“Sorry about this morning,” John said as they headed out into the fields later that day. “Hope I didn’t spoil anything.”

“No need to worry. It was a close one, but we covered it up just fine,” Loki replied. “In truth, I have not even found the right words to tell them. And believe me, I’ve been wracking my brain.”

“Well, maybe that’s the issue.”

“What is?”

“That you’re thinking so hard. Just speak from the heart.”

“Perhaps, but the scene must be set just right. I insist upon having that planned out, at least.”

“Fair enough. Don’t worry, we’ll think of something.”

They set about the usual chores, and Loki thought about the situation the whole time. It wasn’t until they were heading back in for the evening that inspiration struck. You were waiting for them on the porch, waving as they came in. Besides the fact that it was rather picturesque, it made him realize you'd had some important moments there. Like that day when you went to the creek, the first time he’d really felt close to you, it had started with you talking on the porch. When you’d almost kissed the day of the party, that was on the porch, too. Perhaps it was just the place to start the next phase of your relationship.

“John,” he whispered as you walked inside. “I believe I have the perfect idea.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you think, little one? Is it perfect?”

“Hmm,” Matt said in reply, then adjusted a napkin ever so slightly. “There. Now it is!”

“Thank you. Everything must be just right for tonight.”

“And it will be,” Ana said, laying a comforting hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“She’s right,” John added, coming out of the house and placing a kiss on his wife’s cheek. “You planned it out all week.”

“I know, but these nerves will not settle.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to just go for it.”

“He’s right,” Ana encouraged. “Once you do it, there’ll be nothing left to worry about.”

“I suppose you are right. No time like the present.”

He shook himself out, feeling more nervous than he had in his whole life. Even with the encouragement of his friends, he wasn’t sure he could do this. Though, the fact that he even had friends did give him a boost of confidence. On the flip side of that, he was saddened by the fact he could not share this with his family. Because even after all this time, he still thought of them as that. Well, Thor and Frigga anyway; Odin, not so much.

“You can do this, Loki!” Matt cheered, hugging Loki’s legs.

He fondly smiled down at the boy and pat his head. “Thank you, little one.”

“And don’t forget, no one can resist a god,” John said with a wink after Ana and Matt were gone, then headed in himself.

Loki waited a minute before going in, too. As he traveled the halls to your room to invite you down, he recalled all the time he’d spent in the house. Before he came here and met all of you, he was convinced he was doomed. But now, he thought happiness was possible again. He’d been so broken, but you’d healed him with your gentle touches and kind words.

This world around him, he owed all to you. You’d showed him a way to live he’d never even considered before, extended the offer of a place in your home to him. He deeply wished he could do the same for you, raise you to the level of the gods in Asgard. He wanted to show you the gleaming, golden city, give you a tour of the place where he grew up. It was pointless, though, for he knew it could never be.

“Darling,” he said, knocking on your door. You opened it up, and he tried to calm his wild heart. “Do you suppose you could meet me on the porch in, say, ten minutes?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure. What for?”

“You will see,” he smiled before going back down to check over everything one final time.

After giving everything a once over, Loki conjured a bouquet of your favorite flowers on a whim. It felt almost strange to use his powers after keeping them hidden so long. It came back to him rather easily, even so. He hoped that one day he would be able to show you all the tricks he could do. To amaze you with magic out of your wildest dreams. If tonight went well, he was certain he would.

“Loki. I’m here. I-” you paused, taking in the set up on the porch. “What is all this?”

He gulped, hoping he didn’t go overboard with the twinkle lights and lanterns. Your family had said that it wasn’t too much, but maybe they were wrong. For once, your face was unreadable. Although, maybe that was just because he was going through a million emotions of his own.

“It’s for you. I was hoping we could dine together this evening,” he told you, presenting the flowers, which you gratefully accepted.

“Of course we can. But, if you don’t mind my asking, why just the two of us?”

“To be perfectly clear, my darling, I like you. I like you as more than just a friend, and I want to be more than that. So, I suppose this is me asking you on a date.”

“Then, this is me accepting.”

You both stood there grinning like idiots for a minute before he cleared his mind. He pulled out a chair for you and then sat in his own. Papa had been enlisted to help Loki cook one of your favorite meals. You raved about how good it was, and Loki had never felt lighter. It was like he was floating on air. The dessert, too, you thoroughly enjoyed. Everything was going swimmingly, but Loki was still not satisfied with his confession when there was so much else he wanted to say to you.

“My darling,” he began, circling around to your side of the table. You got up, too, and invited him to sit on the porch swing. “I must admit, I do not think it sufficient that I have not completely expressed how I feel. You see, when I first came here, I was so lost. But then there was you, so kind, so accepting. You became my direction, the only place I want to be, regardless of where I was before all this. You’ve said before that you do not think your life would be complete with me in it. Well I have yet to tell you that I feel exactly the same way, but I do. More than I can even express.”

You whispered his name, and he yours in reply. It was both a question and an invitation, full of desire and longing as his hand cupped your cheek. He leaned in towards you. A part of him did not want to do this until after he’d shared the whole truth, something he’d originally planned on doing tonight. But right now, the overwhelming majority of thoughts in his head were urging him to follow through with this. The second before your lips were going to meet, the front door slammed open.

“I thought you two might like to come inside,” Mama said. “It’s going to rain, and it’s getting awful late.”

Whether the part about the rain was true or not, Loki did not know, but either way he did not appreciate the interruption. After all, sitting on the porch you did have protection from the elements. He thought she was okay with him dating you, but apparently not. It didn’t particularly matter though, since he wasn’t going to call her out on it.

“Thank you,” he said instead. “I guess we should be heading in then.”

You nodded and began the trek up to your rooms. How he wished you could have finished that moment on the porch, but it was too late now. You bid each other goodnight, and he cast a longing glance over his shoulder at you. Before his hand could touch the knob of his door, you spun him back around and placed a kiss to his lips. It was hasty and sloppy, but it was still perfect.

“Goodnight, Loki,” you whispered breathlessly and leaving him in a daze.

He flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, quietly laughing to himself once he fully processed what had happened. Tonight had gone better than he ever could have imagined. Except for one thing. He realized he never told you the truth about who he was. His heart sank, thinking how he might ruin what he’d just gained if he did come clean now. But he knew he must. And soon. Because if there was one thing he’d truly meant, it was that he never wanted to hurt you. He could only hope that telling you wouldn’t do just that.

[quicksilversquared]

Defeat by Data

After getting great success with his efforts to figure out what was going on with Lila, Max has turned his attention to a bigger project: using data collection and analysis to track down Hawkmoth's location. Unfortunately for Max, it's proving to be more difficult than expected.

Unfortunately for Hawkmoth, that's not enough to deter Max.

links in the reblog

The models were ready, the equations tested and confirmed, the map of Paris downloaded and imported and the geo-locator coordinates checked and double-checked. The data sheets had been polished to perfection, each column crisply labeled and with data checks set up to let Max know if anything wasn't entered in the correct format, and linked to the program that he had developed.

All that was missing was enough data to provide a statistically significant result.

Max sighed as he entered his latest row of data, his eyes scanning upwards on the data sheet in hopes that somehow, magically, more information had appeared overnight.

His hopes were, of course, in vain. The data was as sparse as it had been before.

"I am sure that you will eventually gather enough useable information to track Hawkmoth down," Markov told him encouragingly. "Perhaps it is not working as quickly as you had hoped, but that may have been a bit optimistic."

"I think I got my expectations thrown off by how easy it was to find data about Lila," Max said with a sigh, making sure the line was saved before closing the document. Staring at it for too long would just make him frustrated, and he didn't do any decent work when he got too frustrated. "Hawkmoth is proving much more elusive."

Elusive, and the unknown variables that Max had to deal with were much harder to account for.

On paper, the concept of Max's Hawkmoth-finding model was simple: all he had to do was observe when people around him got mad, make note of where they were and what time it was, and then make another note when they got akumatized. In theory, he should be able to take the amount of time that it took for the butterfly to arrive and the GPS coordinates and then plug them in to find Hawkmoth's lair. He could account for the unknown speed at which the corrupted butterflies flew by using a fairly simple equation, which would then transform the data into lines projected onto a map of Paris, each line corresponding to the time taken for the butterfly to arrive. Max would then- in theory- be able to manipulate the lines and make them change in length by the same factor. Once all of the lines met- within a pre-determined margin of error- then that was where Ladybug and Chat Noir should be looking for the source of the akumas.

On paper, it made sense. It sounded easy. In theory, it was straightforward and pretty much guaranteed to produce results. But in reality?

First of all, there was no way to account for the variable amount of time that it might take for Hawkmoth to send out an akuma once an upset was detected. If his response rate varied, that could affect the akuma. Realistically, there was no way to confirm if all of the corrupted butterflies actually flew at the same rate. On top of that, collecting any sort of useable data was really hard, harder than Max had anticipated. There was no telling how angry (or upset, or frustrated, or otherwise emotional) a person had to be in order for Hawkmoth to pick it up. Then it was pretty rare to actually see someone get akumatized- the majority of people got akumatized when they were alone or with a single friend, after all, not in a group setting- and an akuma showing up in public immediately after being akumatized wasn't exactly a given. Sometimes it was pretty obvious that the akuma had shown up immediately, so Max had been counting them anyway- if he didn't, he wouldn't have any data- but most of the time it was pretty questionable and therefore not useable, quality data.

It was really frustrating, to the point that Max had tried making several other models in hopes that something would work out better. But where akumatizations took place didn't give him any leads, either. Much to Max's disappointment, the shape that the plotted points gave him wasn't circular (which would imply a maximum distance that Hawkmoth could reach, and therefore a center point where Hawkmoth's lair was located). Instead, it curved and bulged, the number of akumatizations more dependent on population and neighborhood traffic than anything else. There was, of course, an edge to the akumatizations that had fewer akumatizations per capita, but it didn't tell Max anything that he hadn't known before.

Max was very much stuck, and it was frustrating.

"I would try to get the word out to increase the number of people collecting data, but I worry that that could backfire," Max told Markov, pushing away from his computer. If he stayed close to it for much longer, he would probably be tempted to fiddle with the codes in an effort to somehow increase the value of the data he had collected or something. "If word gets out about what I'm trying to do, then there's a chance that Hawkmoth will find out about it and change up what he's doing. He could move locations on a regular basis, or change up how long he takes to respond to each instance of anger. This is our most likely path to success, so I don't want to risk messing it up."

Markov considered that. "Yes, speeding up our data collection is not worth risking gaining Hawkmoth's attention. I would say that trying to recruit others via a public platform such as the Ladyblog would be a major blunder. Would asking your friends carry a small enough risk to be worth it?"

Max considered that before shaking his head. "I worry that they would talk to other people and word could spread that way. It would be all too easy for someone to overhear what I'm trying to do but not catch why it needs to stay so secret. Or- well, I've heard of Alya doing things immediately after being told not to because she thought that she knew better. She might think that I'm being paranoid about Hawkmoth finding out about the project and post on the Ladyblog anyway." He knew Alya meant well, but... well, she tended not to always think before jumping, particularly in relation to superhero things.

(Max was 86% sure that Alya's little video about the strange symbols on possible Miraculous holders on paintings and sculptures at the Louvre had helped Hawkmoth make the connection between the strange sculpture there and the Miraculous. The chances of that not being the case and Hawkmoth simply happening upon the- what had the newscasts called it? Feast?- the same day that it was unveiled were... well, low.)

"Any of them might tell other friends in an effort to help and end up losing the message of how important it is to keep this project secret," Max added after a small pause. He didn't want to entirely single Alya out, after all, even if she did have the biggest platform and relatively low impulse control when it came to the superheroes. "I suppose I might be able to make up a different reason for wanting that particular data and be able to recruit a couple more people, but would it make a difference? After all, we all go to the same class in the same school. The likelihood that they would see something that I would not is relatively low."

Markov considered that. "I suppose."

"I guess that I'll just have to keep doing what I'm doing and hope that I eventually get enough data," Max said with a sigh, sending one more glance at his computer before getting up. "I don't want to give up. Eventually, it has to work."

  Another week passed and brought with it exactly one more useable data point and a rather unwelcome realization.

Max needed more data, sure. But he needed more varied data. The large majority of the points in his very small data set came from akumatizations at the school. That caused way too much opportunity for error. Really, he needed a lot of data points from a wide variety of locations to try to ensure that he was getting data from all sides of Hawkmoth's lair. That would decrease his margin of error enough to- in theory- pinpoint Hawkmoth's location exactly.

He could keep collecting data points at school all he wanted, but they would only keep getting less and less valuable because they would just tell him the exact same thing that the first points had. Sure, they weren't completely useless, since then Max could look at the variation in response time, but they weren't nearly as useful as points from completely new locations would be.

It. Was. Frustrating.

Max scowled at the air, pen tapping the pad of paper that he had pulled out to help him brainstorm a new plan of attack. The TV was playing in the background, a bit of background noise to help Max think, but he still wasn't coming up with any new ideas.

He couldn't just skip school and wander around the city in hopes of finding people who were getting mad. That would be impractical.

Once summer arrived, perhaps Max could try to stake out spots that tended to see a lot of people akumatized, specially selected to give him as much information as possible- or, to put it more clearly, spots that weren't close to the school. There were a number of parks in the area, or places where tourists and locals alike got fed up with congestion and lines and overly-aggressive pigeons-

"Aha!" Max exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Mr. Pigeon!"

Markov blinked at him. "Pardon me?"

"Mr. Pigeon- or, rather, Mr. Ramier. He's got to be one of the most akumatized people in Paris!" Max was on his feet- when had he gotten up?- and pacing now. "He gets chased out of public areas and akumatized pretty much every week. Most of the parks aren't that close to school, either. They're pretty scattered- but then that means that the chances of me happening upon him on any given day while hanging out at a certain location is rather low."

"You may be able to recruit some of your friends for that," Markov suggested. "Then you could split up and all stake out a park. If you make up some other project..."

Max considered that, coming up with a couple possible before discarding them as far too suspicious. Lila had proven that many of his classmates would accept even somewhat (or highly) questionable stories without much question, but Max didn't want to depend on that too much. If word got out somehow- he still wanted to avoid letting Alya know, because the less Hawkmoth knew about what research people were doing on his akumas, the better- it could reach someone who would be more likely to take a closer look at the story and perhaps question it.

Better to come up with a solid, logical story now than go with some flimsy cover and have it questioned later. The question was what he could possibly say that wouldn't raise Hawkmoth's suspicions.

Max thought it over for the rest of the day, coming up with ideas and then calculating the probability that each one would hold up under inspection and the probability that, should what Max was doing reach Hawkmoth, it would result in the supervillain changing up what he was doing. In the end, one excuse stood clearly in the lead.

All he needed to claim was that he was doing a public safety project and so he wanted to figure out the average window of time between when someone got mad and when an akuma arrived, which would then inform people how long they would have to calm down the angry person before it was too late.

(Or it would inform people about how long they had to get a head start before a possible akuma attack started. Max suspected that, if he was actually doing a project like that, most people would choose to use the information to save their own skin rather than trying to help prevent attacks.)

It was believable. It would make people want to help. Max still had to come up with an excuse as to why he didn't want a ton of people to know about the project while it was in-progress, but his main story was at least ready to go.

"I have looked up a record of Mr. Pigeon's appearances and categorized them," Markov announced as Max finished typing up his first draft of the Mr. Pigeon akumatization survey protocol. "And I have come up with a pattern that may help us reduce the amount of time that we spend watching for him. I have emailed the spreadsheet output to you for analysis."

Max nodded, clicking to his email and opening the sheet. On it was an analysis of when Mr. Ramier usually got akumatized on different days of the week, based off of a scan of all of the news coverage of Mr. Pigeon. There were some pretty clear patterns- the sheer volume of Mr. Pigeon's appearances allowed for some properly statistically significant results- and that would help inform where Max and whoever he recruited to help would spend their time. There was also an output chart breaking down the frequency with which Mr. Ramier was akumatized in different locations. Not all of the attacks had that information, but Mr. Pigeon showed up so often that people often took pictures instead of running.

Was it a public safety hazard? Yes, of course. It 100% went against the akuma attack safety suggestions that Ladybug and Chat Noir had released. But no matter how bad of an idea it was, Max couldn't deny that it had provided some very useful data.

"I will add the times and places that are most worth our time to my protocol," Max told Markov, already in the middle of inserting a table in the most relevant spot in their protocol so that it would be easily accessible. If he couldn't get enough people to post one at each place, then the chart would let him know how to most efficiently allocate his resources. "Based on this, we will not even have to wait until summer to start our collection. We could do this over weekends and after school."

If things went smoothly- if they didn't miss more than an attack or two- they would probably get enough data from Mr. Pigeon to be able to move on to the next (and currently undefined) part of the data collection plan. After all, they only needed so many samples at each of Mr. Ramier's favorite locations for Max's analysis.

If things went smoothly. Max had learned before that akumas tended to mess up even the most well-laid plans. They were hardly regularly scheduled (even if Mr. Pigeon did show some pretty distinct patterns) and Hawkmoth could very well decide to switch things up at any time. But provided that nothing changed drastically during their study period, their plan should work.

Now it was time to decide who out of Max's classmates and other friends would be most likely to respect his concerns and not go spreading word of the project to anyone else. Alya was out, of course, and by extension so was Nino. Max estimated the chances of Nino letting something slip- either intentionally or not- to his girlfriend were probably around 92%, which was obviously far less than ideal. He would ask Marinette, who was both far better than Nino at keeping secrets and clearly a fan of the concept less is more when it came to superhero information being shared on the Ladyblog, but...well. She was clearly a very busy person and Max didn't want to add even more to her plate. Adrien was similar, what with his heavily-loaded schedule and outings that were strictly restricted by his father.

Rose and Juleka would both no doubt be more than enthusiastic to help if he asked, but they were both friends with Alya. The probabilities of them telling Alya were in the 80s, which was not an acceptable risk.

They had good intentions, but Max knew that they might not remember to consider the drawbacks of the entire city of Paris knowing about the project.

Alix was a bit of a wildcard, if Max was being honest. The probability of her telling someone else could easily vary between 30% and 70%. It was better not to risk it, at least until he could do a bit of probing around and do a better risk assessment. It would be easy enough to do at school on Monday.

Mylène- and by extension, Ivan- were pretty low-risk. Max had talked with them enough to know that they understood the risks of- well, of pretty much any Miraculous-related information getting released to the public. If Max caught them on their own and explained his concerns thoroughly, the risk of them telling any others was negligible.

Chloe was automatically a no. So was Sabrina. Both were so spiteful and unpredictable- Chloe more than Sabrina- that it would be too dangerous to even try to include them. If Chloe tried to make another demand for the Bee Miraculous and got rebuffed by Ladybug again, she might deliberately tell people about Max's project- or at least the cover for the project that she was told- to try to sabotage the effort.

That only left Kim and Nathaniel in their class as possibilities. If Max told Kim not to tell anyone and why, he trusted his friend to respect that and listen. Nathaniel was likely to be similar, though- as with Alix- Max wanted to do some probing and do a more through risk assessment before including Nathaniel in his project.

It was truly unfortunate that Max couldn't just make a small army of Markovs and depend on them instead of all-too-complicated human helpers, but it would be far too expensive and Max simply didn't have enough time in his day to give them all the kind of attention and interactions that a robot on Markov's level required.

So human helpers it was. Unfortunately.

  The recruitment process wasn't as bad as Max had worried it would be. Everyone that he talked to understood why word getting out about his ongoing research could backfire, and badly. They wanted to help, and they were willing to sacrifice their afternoons and weekends to help Max gather the data that he so desperately needed. Nathaniel and Kim even recruited two more people, bringing Marc and Odine into their group along with a couple of Max's tech club buddies and allowing them to pair up to stake out the various parks and other locations. Everyone was briefed before they headed out as a refresher and handed a copy of Max's final protocol, polished to perfection. There was going to be a little bit of deviation from the plan, since some people's parents wanted them home early, but it wasn't too big of an issue.

"I figured that you must have something up your sleeve these past few weeks," Kim told Max as they settled in at their location. They had a good vantage point of the entire park, and would be regularly patrolling the area to make sure that Mr. Ramier didn't settle down in some hidden corner. "You've been buried in your science projects notebook all the time and scribbling stuff down, like, 24/7."

"It's been a work in progress for a while," Max admitted. "A very long while. Data collection hasn't been going very well, though, so that's why I decided to recruit more people and start following Mr. Ramier. I need more data points if my model is going to be of any use."

Kim nodded. "Right! Because you need a bunch of data to make it, uh, statistic?"

"Statistically significant, yes." Max adjusted his glasses on his nose. "Without enough samples, the data may show a trend but it would be unwise to draw conclusions based on insufficient data. A few outliers or even just one could be too much of an influence on the data set."

"Right, right, of course." Kim considered that. "But why don't you just, like, remove the outliers?"

"Because I don't know that that's what they are until I have enough data," Max explained patiently. "I can't just go around removing points right now because they don't give me the answer I wanted."

"Ooh, okay."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Max pulled out his homework and started working on some of the problems for Chemistry, glancing up regularly to see if Mr. Ramier had arrived. His phone was with Markov in his bag, where his little robot friend would be able to see right away if any messages were coming in. Ideally, Mr. Ramier would show up and get akumatized sooner rather than later on Day One, which would allow them to get their data and then head home right away. There would then be a period of three days before they would have to start checking again, because Mr. Ramier always seemed to lay low for several days after an akumatization before trying again.

It was a bit sad, really- Paris just had to allow him to feed the pigeons in a specific location instead of just banning him (temporarily) from whatever park he was in and then they wouldn't have to deal with his frequent akumatization- but it was really, really useful for Max's study.

"Won't the time that it takes for someone to get akumatize be different in different parts of the city?" Kim asked after several minutes. "Or are you just looking at averages in the center of Paris?"

Sometimes Max forgot how observant Kim could be if he wanted to be. "In theory, yes. Time between anger reaching a certain threshold and akumatizations are likely to vary across the city. That's why I'll be including location data along with the time data."

Kim nodded. "Cool." He tipped his head to the side, considering. "Could you use akumas that showed up on TV? Like, someone who got mad onscreen and then got akumatized and came back and attacked everyone?"

Max blinked at his friend, then straightened like he had been kicked. Of course! How many contests had TV stations across the city held since Hawkmoth showed up? And how often had those contests ended in an akumatization? Pretty much all the time, the akuma doubled back and made a beeline straight for the studio. Sure, there might be a window of thirty to ninety seconds when the akumatization could have happened, but it was usually easy enough to narrow that timeframe down to a more reasonable timeframe of ten to twenty seconds..

Really, Max should have thought of that himself. Televised akumas were a very logical place to look.

"I'll have to dig through the footage this weekend," Max decided. He would do it sooner, but his afternoons would likely be taken up with tracking Mr. Ramier and also getting his schoolwork done. "I'll also have to think of some way to add in a little variation with those during analysis, since we don't know exactly when they were akumatized."

"Maybe the security cameras would- wait, no, never mind, that defeats the entire purpose of using the TV footage or whatever," Kim interrupted himself. He grinned sheepishly at Max. "Sorry, my mom's been watching too many of those detective crime shows recently and they always seem to love security camera footage."

"Well, it is a useful source of information in a number of cases," Max offered. He scanned out over the park, then narrowed his eyes when he spotted a very familiar pigeon-grey suit across the way. It looked like luck was on their side after all. "Though I suspect that detective shows may inflate how helpful cameras are in real life."

Kim considered that. "Yeah, I guess. They don't really show a lot of stuff how it actually happens, really. My mom has a friend who hates those shows and I overheard her once pointing out all of the inaccurate stuff in one episode." He shrugged, then perked up and pointed. "Look, there's a policeman! Ready to start the timer?"

Max nodded, pulling out his stopwatch as he watched the policeman approach Mr. Ramier. "Ready to go."

  Max was practically humming as he entered the day's data in his program. His protocol had worked perfectly on their first run, and of course it was fantastic that Mr. Ramier had shown up so soon. He and Kim had been able to get their data and then retreat to safety in the building that Max had previously scouted out, allowing them to stay completely clear of the (very short) fight and even get a chunk of their homework out of the way before the all-clear signal was given and they could head home. Their group text thread had let the other members of their team know right away when Mr. Ramier was spotted, allowing them to leave their posts for the day instead of being left hanging. And to top it all off, Kim had made a very good point about using akumatizations on TV, so in theory Max would have even more data to add to his collection.

All in all, it had been a very good first day.

"Once I finish my homework for today, I want to start making a spreadsheet of contests that TV stations in the city have had since Hawkmoth's appearance," Max told Markov. He pulled out his daily planner to scan down the list of assignments that he had to complete for the night. Thankfully he had already completed a number of things during the school day in anticipation to their stake-out potentially taking the entire afternoon, so finishing wouldn't take too long. It wasn't as though there was anything particularly difficult to do. "It may not be urgent, since the footage won't be going anywhere and it's not going to be enough for me to draw any definitive conclusions still, but I'm curious about what they will add to the dataset."

He was also curious about how many of the TV akumatizations he would be able to use. They would have to be ranked or otherwise marked in some way to indicate which of the akumas had a smaller- and therefore more valuable- possible akumatization window, but some might not be usable at all. How many would fall into each category... well, that remained to be seen.

"I can start doing a search shortly," Markov told him. "At the moment, I have another search in-progress."

Max blinked, startled, and then spotted the cable hooked up between Markov and his computer. Clearly his robot had been doing research already while Max was at dinner with his family. He almost asked about what Markov was searching, but then he decided against it. He had learned before that if Markov wanted to share what he was up to, he would once his analysis was complete. "That would be great, thank you."

They lapsed into silence, Max working on his homework and Markov working on whatever his project was. There was a periodic quiet beep as Markov found and filed something of particular interest and the scratch-scratch of Max's pencil busy against the paper, both of them consumed with their work. Max had to force himself to focus on his work instead of running through possible treatments for the TV akuma data points to try to improve the data.

(It was very possible that there wasn't any good way to improve the data and his best bet would be to simply rate each data point by quality, but Max wanted to ensure that if there was any way to improve the data that he would be harvesting, he would think of it.)

Across the room, Markov let out a pleased little chirp before diving into research again. This time when Max glanced over, his computer screen was rapidly flashing through web pages that he recognized as belonging to different TV stations across the city. Clearly Markov had completed whatever research that he had been working on before and had moved on to Max's project.

Hopefully he would find a good number of contests and associated akumas.

Ten minutes later, Max finished up his homework and turned his attention to Markov. The computer screen was still flashing furiously, though it seemed- based on the progress bar flashing across the part of Markov's screen where his "eyes" usually were- that they were in wrap-up phase, doing a final check for anything that might have been missed earlier.

Really, Max wasn't sure what he would do without Markov. It was so nice to be able to get help with his various (non-school) projects. Whenever he hit a snag with coding or ran into trouble with deciding what model or statistical test or equation to use, Markov was already on the job and looking up resources for Max to reference. And while Max wasn't allowed to let Markov help him on school projects- he had had to sign an agreement saying that he wouldn't have his robot do his research for him- Markov was allowed to help Max study by quizzing him and it was very helpful.

"Done!" Markov announced with a triumphant beep. "I have produced a spreadsheet of all of the contests held by TV stations in the city since Hawkmoth's first appearance and links to all of the videos. Some of them have accompanying articles that mention an akuma showing up during the contest, but not all of them mention it."

"I'll start with those, then. Thank you." Max scooted his chair over to his computer, eyes scanning the spreadsheet that filled the screen. There were a fair number of contests to filter through, which was...well, it was odd. One would think that common sense would dictate that people should stop creating opportunities that were absolute breeding grounds for high, akuma-attracting emotions, but- as with the case of Mr. Ramier- clearly that was not the case.

If it weren't for the fact that Max was actively using those opportunities in his favor, he would bring up the odd contradiction directly to the mayor. Chloe would no doubt protest- she still seemed to be under the impression that she would get the Bee again eventually- but Max could point out the economic impacts that the frequent akuma attacks were having on the city. Taking actions to potentially reduce the number of attacks could be the first step in redeeming Paris's reputation in the eyes of the rest of the country and all of the potential tourists that were currently avoiding the city.

Of course, taking Hawkmoth and Mayura down permanently would have a far larger impact, so Max would simply let things run as they were for the time being. Once he had gotten all of the data that he needed from his sources he would approach the mayor, but there was really no telling how long that would be.

"Before you dive too far into the TV contest research, I have come up with another idea to increase the breadth of our investigation," Markov announced, and Max perked up. Another idea? It seemed like they were on a roll now. "How open are you to illegal activity?"

Max sent his robot an absolutely aghast look. That wasn't what he had been expecting! "Um, not at all open!"

Markov tilted his head to the side, considering Max. "Even victimless illegal activity?"

"Uh." Morally, Max still wanted to say no, but he had to admit that part of him was curious. "What, exactly, are you considering?"

"Earlier, your friend Kim mentioned using security camera footage to figure out when exactly contest contestants got akumatized," Markov told Kim. "There were, of course, logistical issues with the suggestions, primarily the fact that security camera footage is not immediately available to the public."

"We would have to ask for it, which would mean telling more people about my project," Max added. "And there's no way to confirm that all of them would keep the secret, or that none of them are connected to Hawkmoth in any way."

"Precisely. So we need to bypass the human factor and hack into the security camera footage of places where akumas appeared. If we can see both when they got upset and when they got akumatized, the time stamps on the footage should tell us how long it took for the akuma to arrive. After that, we can find the coordinates for each of the locations." Markov turned fully to face Max. "I have been looking into the feasibility of the hacking and come to the conclusion that it would not be terribly difficult. Some locations may allow for remote hacking, while others would require me to enter the building. Given that temperatures are rising, it is likely that I would be able to find an open window to go in through and from there, locate the security desk area."

Max considered that. Markov was right: it would be a victimless crime. The buildings in questions shouldn't even be aware that there had been any sort of breech. It would allow their project to be sped up, which in turn would allow for Hawkmoth to be found and defeated sooner. It was incredibly likely that the owners of the assorted businesses that they would be hacking into would have agreed to releasing their footage anyway, it was just that- for security reasons- that they would be bypassing the actual asking part.

"So, what do you think?" Markov prompted. "Should we take advantage of security footage to speed up the process?"

"You know what?" Max asked slowly, hoping that he wasn't going to regret this. He wanted to help take Hawkmoth down, and if this was what it took, then so be it. "I think that we should."

  "I hope that you're happy with yourself," Max told Kim the next day at school. He hadn't slept very well, dreams of Markov getting caught and being traced back to Max and both of them getting sent to jail haunting him. "You've gotten Markov doing crime now."

Kim perked up, grinning widely. "Really? Cool!"

"Wha- no, it is not cool!"

  Max was pretty sure that he had never been so busy before in his life. His afternoons and weekends were full of stakeouts, watching both Mr. Ramier and the general public. His evenings- and the days when Mr. Ramier had just been akumatized and was unlikely to try to feed the pigeons again so soon- were full of video analysis, going through footage from both security cameras and TV shows. Every time he got a data point, it was entered in his model's spreadsheet. The number of rows increased every day, with points coming from all over the city. Markov was kept just as busy, looking up dates for akuma attacks and hacking into security systems both remotely and on-site to get more footage for Max to review.

Max had been so busy, in fact, that he hadn't really had the chance to see how the new influx of data was affecting his model's output. It would be important to eventually, of course, to see where they needed more points to get the most accurate results, but Max wanted to finish processing the absolute mountain of material that he had gotten before he got distracted by the analysis.

"I'll help," Kim volunteered unexpectedly one afternoon as he and Max headed away from the park that they had been staking out. Mr. Ramier had been spotted at Ivan and Mylène's location, so there was no point in anyone else staying out longer. "It's just watching videos to see if the person shows up and then marking down times and location, right? I have my tablet with me, I could knock out a few streams before my parents expect me home."

Max only had to consider the offer for a second. Kim was the only one of his friends that he had been willing to tell about Markov's less-than-legal method of getting the security camera footage in the first place, and therefore the only one who wouldn't question him about it. "That would be great! Once I'm all caught up, I'll have a better idea of where in the city I need to get more data from to fill out my sample."

"Maybe you'll be done," Kim suggested. "I mean, we've gotten a bunch of stuff from Mr. Ramier. How many akumatizations do you need to get your conclusions, anyway?"

"A larger sample size tends to produce better data," Max replied vaguely, wondering when, exactly, he should come clean to Kim about the actual goals of his project. He had always planned on coming clean eventually to everyone who had helped him, though originally he had figured that it would be best to wait until after Ladybug and Chat Noir had the information in their hands and were ready to take down Hawkmoth. It was possible that an exception could be made for Kim, though, since he had been such a big help in the entire process.

"Yeah, I guess I remember Madam Mendeleev saying something like that before," Kim said cheerfully. "But you have to draw a line at some point, right? Otherwise you're just collecting data for forever."

Max considered his friend for a long moment, weighing pros and cons before coming to a decision. "Yeah, I do have a- a line, as you call it- in mind. We can talk about it when we get to my family's apartment, maybe? I don't want word to get out about what I'm doing ahead of time."

Kim frowned, clearly puzzled. "Wait, you don't want what your line is getting out? Or- wait, do you mean the project in general? But what's the point in gathering data if you aren't going to be putting out the results?"

"It will make sense when I explain it," Max assured him. They rounded the corner, and his family's apartment building appeared down the block. "There may have been some, ah, misdirection when it came to explaining my goals for the project."

"Ooh, misdirection! That sounds like- like spies and secrets and all that cool stuff!" Kim sped up, forcing Max into a jog to keep up. "I can't wait!"

Max could only sigh. Really, considering that he knew exactly how Kim was, he shouldn't have been surprised by that reaction.

With Kim's eager charge leading the way, it didn't take long for the two boys to get into Max's apartment, snag some snacks from the kitchen, and bundle themselves away into Max's room. Max immediately went to boot up his computer, trying to ignore the way that Kim was practically vibrating with excitement.

He probably should have called his cover story something other than a misdirection, even if that was what it was. The 'spy' term was just making Kim way too excited.

"So, the real story?" Kim prompted once Max had gotten his computer up and started transferring some files onto a USB drive so that Kim could look at them on his tablet. "Do I get to know now?"

"I did promise." Max checked one last time to make sure that the data was transferring over correctly, then spun to face Kim. "Remember, this does not leave this room. If Hawkmoth catches wind of what I'm trying to do, all of our work will be for nothing."

Kim nodded. "I promise not to say anything! Cross my heart and hope to die!"

"Thank you." Max took a moment to compose himself and decide where to start, then dove in. "Kim, do you remember how, when I first told you about the project, how you commented that the time frame between when people get upset and when they get akumatized would vary based on where people are in the city?"

"Yeah, since some people are gonna be closer to Hawkmoth's lair or whatever- wait!" Kim practically yelped, jabbing a finger towards Max. "Are you trying to use the times to track Hawkmoth down? Like, you'll make a map of all of the times and make, like, zones or whatever like they do for earthquakes? Or maybe it was some other natural disaster, I don't know. But, like, the center is bright red, and then the next zone out is orange, and then yellow or whatever, and it stands for how much damage was caused. Are you doing that, but with akumatization times? That's so cool!"

Max blinked as he tried to follow that. "That... would have been one approach, I suppose. I decided to go for a slightly more involved model. But yes, the end goal is to track down where Hawkmoth's lair is."

Kim was grinning. "So cool! Totally worth giving up some of my sprint practice time for! So how close are you?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I have gained a great deal of data from the security cameras, but I've been too busy to look at the model output and see if there's any area that's particularly lacking. That's why your assistance will be so helpful- once I'm caught up and have some breathing room, I can look at my model and figure out what attacks will be most worth looking up." Max had been trying to get a good spread of akuma locations, but of course there was only so much control he could have over what data he collected. He had to work with the akumas that showed up, and of those, only the akumas that both got upset and got akumatized within the view of a camera were of any value to him. "That might be what slows me down, actually. If I need points from a specific area that perhaps does not get many akumatizations, I will have to wait for opportunities to appear."

"We could just find, like, a restaurant or something from that area and get Chloe to go there," Kim suggested. "She'll probably be able to create an akuma, no problem."

Max sighed. "We can't just sic Chloe on people to get akumas, Kim. That's not ethical."

"It would be for the, uh, betterment for the city, though! Upset a few people, get a few more akumas, and boom! No more Hawkmoth!"

"He does make a good point," Markov piped up. "The sooner we find Hawkmoth, the fewer overall akumas there will be and the sooner Paris's overall mental health can start recovering."

Max groaned. Maybe he needed to start working on improved human ethics software for Markov. First with the hacking, now with advocating for deliberate (or semi-deliberate) akumatizations! Markov was simply looking at the problem from a numbers perspective, instead of-

Instead of-

Well. Instead of an ethical perspective, perhaps? Except Max knew that there were studies on the effects that akumatization had on people, both the akumatized person and the people who were impacted by the attack. Creating a few strategically-placed akumas to bring an end to the attacks sooner would mean fewer people impacted, in theory, or at least less overall impact.

So would causing akumas actually be considered ethical in this case?

Hopefully things wouldn't come to that. It was a bit of an ethical conundrum and one that Max really didn't want to dive into too deeply right now.

"Well, it looks like the transfer is complete," Max said instead of debating the ethics of purposeful akumatization. "Shall we start? The sooner this is done, the sooner we can look at the model."

Kim practically snatched the USB from Max at once. "You bet! I'll be the fastest video analyzer you've ever seen!"

"Accuracy is more important than speed, if you could."

"The fastest and most accurate!"

"Mhmm."

Silence fell over the room as the two boys started to dig into their files, watching to see if the person who would later become an akuma would show up on camera at the needed times. Max made a face when his first set of files fell short- the man exited the building before becoming akumatized, which meant that he wasn't visible from any of their acquired camera files- and closed out of them, moving the files over to the folder marked for deletion. He wouldn't permanently delete them until his project was complete, just in case any of the data came out strangely and he had to refer to his files to double-check his work or in case they wanted to revisit any of the less helpful recordings and attempt to find more footage.

"Dude, is that Nathalie?" Kim exclaimed suddenly from where he was working. "Adrien's keeper Nathalie?"

Max glanced over, realizing what file Kim must have reached. "Yes, we have footage from the Gabriel design and production building. There was one day when there were three akumas in a row from that building alone. I asked Adrien about it-"

Kim was cackling. "That's so funny! That's Adrien's dad's company! You hacked Adrien's dad's company! Oh man, think about what ol' stick-in-the-mud himself would say if he ever found out!"

"Yes, I'm hoping to avoid that ever happening," Max told him. Then he frowned. "And I don't understand- how is it funny?"

"I don't know, dude, it just is!" Kim was grinning. "I mean, all of these other companies, we don't know who owns 'em. They're just some faceless corporation, you know? But I can't help but picture how red ol' man Agreste would get if he knew that a collège student had gotten into his security system!"

"I suppose." Truth be told, Max still didn't really understand the humor, but he wasn't going to keep trying. He had learned in the past that sometimes Kim found very strange things humorous. "Any luck with the videos so far?"

"Yeah! The first set had a good video of some guy stewing in his office and then getting akumatized there," Kim told him. "No analysis of the other footage from that incident necessary, right?"

Max nodded. Kim had gotten lucky. "Right. We just pull as much footage as possible. Some of it won't be useful."

"Sweet, so I can keep watching Nathalie harassing some poor intern!" Kim considered his screen. "Man, if they're gonna be cruel about people's work, you'd think that they would at least consider moving the company out of Paris so that they wouldn't have to worry about the staff getting akumatized because of the criticisms."

"I'm sure that Mr. Agreste feels that the hassle of relocating would outweigh the benefits," Max commented idly, opening another file. "There would be a lot of time lost associated with a relocation, and Ladybug and Chat Noir generally take care of akumas rather quickly. I've heard that a lot of businesses are banking on this whole issue going away within the next year or two." Was it a wise decision? Perhaps, perhaps not. Max didn't feel himself qualified enough to make that call.

They fell back into silence, working away on their videos. The next two hours passed with only a bit of scattered conversation to break up the quiet, and then Kim's mom tested him to come home.

"Hey, at least we got a good bit done, right?" Kim asked as he handed Max his notes on the videos he had watched and started packing up. "You should be pretty close to being caught up, right?"

Max nodded. He would have footage from the start of one and a half fights to finish watching once Kim departed. "Very close. Thank you for your help today."

Kim grinned. "No problem! Promise me that you'll let me know if anything cool comes up?"

Max barely paused before responding. "I'd have to tell you in person, outside of school. Preferably in either your home or mine, so that we can be sure that we aren't being overheard."

"Right, right, of course." Kim's phone buzzed, and he startled. "Okay, I gotta go. Good luck!"

With that, Kim was gone. Max turned back to his computer, intent on finishing the last of the footage before the end of the evening. It wasn't nearly as fun without Kim there, even though they hadn't really been talking that much, but Max forged on regardless.

Data collection wasn't always the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it had to be done.

"Finished!" Max announced half an hour later, closing his video player and clicking over to the spreadsheet for his model so that he could add the final row of data. "And now for the part I've been looking forward to- seeing the output!"

Markov flew over at once to hover by Max's shoulder. "Let's see it! Then I can start looking up attacks in areas where we need more data right away."

Max didn't hesitate to open the model. It took a minute for the data to load, and then little dots popped up in each of the places where akumatizations had happened. The corresponding time-lines took a moment longer to pop into place, all starting with their length linked to the base factor. As Max moved his mouse around, they pulled towards the cursor. A few adjustments of the factor value brought the lines closer to converging, and Max took the opportunity to look at the spread of points around his rough center. Much to his surprise- and relief, they wouldn't have to resort to having Chloe bully people- there weren't any overly bare areas. Some of his data points were definitely outliers- perhaps Hawkmoth had sent his akuma from somewhere other than his lair- but those could be hidden from the analysis easily enough, and so he did.

Maybe he would look at the outliers later, just out of interest's sake, but Max didn't need anything distracting him from the real analysis.

Laser-focused, Max fiddled and fussed, keeping an eye on the bar on the side of his screen that would tell him when his model had the best fit, aka when his cursor was right where the most of the lines converged (or at the very least, nearly converged). After a bit of fine-tuning and fiddling, Max finally had the center. He clicked to mark it and keep his place, then hid the lines layer of his model so that he could more clearly see the map underneath. As soon as he did, well...

Maybe Max didn't spend much (any) time up on the rooftops like Ladybug and Chat Noir, or flying in news helicopters over the city, but that didn't stop him from immediately recognizing the neighborhood around Hawkmoth's lair. There was his school, and the park that he had eaten lunch in with his friends only a few days ago. There was the fountain that Kim and Alix had had a water fight at only yesterday, splashing each other and any unfortunate passersbys until they were kicked out. There was the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, and the Grand Paris, and right in the center of it all, with a glowing red pin solidly marking the middle...

Well, that was the Agreste Mansion. Which meant- unless Max's model had gone very, very wrong somewhere or Hawkmoth was regularly breaking in past Mr. Agreste's not insignificant security measures- that Hawkmoth resided in the mansion.

Since Adrien was out of the house more often than he was in and was far too nice to be Hawkmoth anyway, he wasn't a suspect. Max could be nearly as sure that Hawkmoth wasn't any of the regular household staff, since being a supervillain would take up a fair bit of time and Mr. Agreste wasn't likely to tolerate something like that. Madam Sancoeur and the Gorilla had to be considered as well, of course, but considering that Hawkmoth was definitely a dude and Max had seen both Hawkmoth and Gorizilla at the same time (or close enough, anyway) on Heroes Day, both could be eliminated from suspicion.

That, of course, left Mr. Agreste.

"Well." Max pushed himself away from his computer, sure that his eyes were huge behind his glasses. "Am I ever glad that we didn't try asking building owners for their security footage. That would have been an absolute disaster."

  The next step, of course, was to present his data to the appropriate audience. In Max's case, that meant putting together a PowerPoint that summarized his model's purpose, his data collection, the analysis, and finally, the results. Several times, Max found himself having to scale back his presentation after he put in a little too much detail.

Maybe the equations and coding that went into the development of his model were important and would be interesting to a statistician or programmer, but they weren't relevant to what Ladybug and Chat Noir needed to know. The target audience had to drive what information was presented. If they had questions, Max was more than willing to spend more time going over his model with them, but he knew that the superheroes' time was likely to be in short supply. The main reason for including any of his procedure was to convince them of the validity of his results, and Max had to remember that.

(He was still totally going to give an extended version of the presentation to his mom once Hawkmoth was arrested, though. She would appreciate all of the equations and coding that had gone into his work and they could geek out about it together.)

Finishing the presentation only took a couple days, rearranging and trimming down the slides so that they would be as straightforward as possible while still conveying everything that he needed them to. Max practiced his delivery, making sure that the transitions between slides weren't needlessly excessive and wouldn't slow him down.

And then it was time to actually tell Ladybug and Chat Noir.

If he were anyone else, Max probably would have struggled to get in contact with the superheroes. It wasn't safe to get in close to the battles, and both Ladybug and Chat Noir always took off so fast once the fight was over. Maybe in the early days of their akuma battles the superheroes would hang around, but with the possibility of Hawkmoth lurking and pouncing on them at the end of a fight, those days were over.

But Max had Markov, who could follow battles around without being as conspicuous and who could zip up to rooftop level without a problem. It still took a couple of tries for Markov to get close enough to get their attention before they zipped off, but it was far easier than Max trying to get in contact with them himself.

"I hope this is a good time," Ladybug said that evening as she hung half in Max's window. Behind her, Max could see Chat Noir lingering, keeping an eye out for- well, for Hawkmoth, probably. "Markov said that you had something to show us?"

Max nodded, taking a deep breath. He was feeling oddly nervous now, far more than he had ever felt for school presentations. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was familiar with Hawkmoth, or at least Hawkmoth's son. If Hawkmoth were a stranger, perhaps sharing the news would be easier. "I do. I have a short PowerPoint that I would like to share with you regarding a project that I've been working on. The project was an effort to track Hawkmoth down using a statistical model."

Ladybug and Chat Noir exchanged a look and then both slipped into Max's room, shutting the window tightly behind them. Ladybug took a moment to shut the curtains, too, ensuring that no one would spot them inside of Max's room.

"I've not heard of anyone using statistics to track down Hawkmoth before," Chat Noir said as Ladybug ensured that there weren't any gaps in the curtains. "It's certainly a different approach."

"We could use a different approach," Ladybug chimed in, finally leaving the curtains and joining them. "Everything else that we've tried has ended up with a dead end." She looked over at Max. "Do you want our help with data collection, or do you already have what you need?"

"I already have my results," Max told them, unable to help smiling at the superheroes' reactions. Their eyes had gone wide and Chat Noir's jaw had dropped. He nodded to the two chairs that he had set up in front of a section of wall where he would project his presentation. "If you want to sit..."

The superheroes sat. Max took another steadying breath, mentally apologized to Adrien- after all, his classmate's life was going to be changing a lot soon- and then flipped on his projector. The first slide of his presentation showed up on the wall, and Max started talking.

"Several months ago, I realized that logically, the time between emotion onset and akumatization should vary depending on distance from Hawkmoth's lair..."

  Within the week, Mr. Agreste had been defeated and put in jail, immediately followed by his assistant. After some investigation, Adrien's mom had been found in some sort of magical coma and was apparently being nursed back to health with the help of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Adrien was temporarily staying in the guest room at the Dupain-Cheng house- why he had decided to go there and not to Nino's house was a mystery to Max, but he supposed that he didn't need to get every question answered- while his mom recovered. He didn't seem to hold any ill will towards Ladybug and Chat Noir for arresting his father, nor- thankfully- towards Max or their other classmates for the investigation that had led to the discovery of Mr. Agreste's secret identity.

Logically, of course, there was no reason to be upset with anyone other than Mr. Agreste himself, and perhaps Nathalie, but Max knew by now that human emotions did not always follow logic. He certainly had to admit that if he were in Adrien's place and his father had been arrested for being a supervillain, Max would more than likely be looking for someone else to blame, because his dad? A supervillain?

But Adrien hadn't reacted like that. In fact, he seemed happier now that his father and Nathalie were in jail. Max supposed that the difference probably largely boiled down to the differences between how Max's dad treated him and how Mr. Agreste had treated Adrien and the resulting differences in their relationships.

Adrien might have cared for his father, but there was no denying that they had a strained relationship at best. Mr. Agreste was overcontrolling and absent at the same time, never showing up for any of Adrien's activities or eating meals with his son but refusing to let Adrien go out for at least half of their outings as a group. Theirs was the exact sort of relationship that was on a fast track to have Adrien move out as soon as lycée ended and go no-contact with his father as soon as possible.

Or at least that was what Max was assuming, given the few interactions that he had seen between Adrien and Mr. Agreste in person and what he had heard (and overheard) from his classmates. He might be wrong, of course, but that was just what it had seemed like from that and from what Max had read online during his dives into online forums to attempt to educate himself better about human social interactions.

Either way, Max wanted to at least try to reach out to Adrien and make sure that the two of them would be okay. Presumably Adrien's closer friends had shelter and food covered, but if Adrien needed to miss class because of the trial or anything, Max could take notes to give him or offer tutoring to help him keep up.

Across Paris, people were thrilled to learn about Hawkmoth's defeat. Ladybug and Chat Noir had let on to the fact that they had had a civilian's help with tracking Hawkmoth down- that a civilian had done all of the work, actually- but, in accordance with Max's request, they hadn't mentioned names or given out details on what the civilian had done to track Hawkmoth down. He just didn't want the attention or the scrutiny about how he had gotten the data from the assorted businesses.

Sure, maybe having "located Hawkmoth via use of statistics and modeling analysis" would have been a good thing to have on his resume once he got to the age when he would be applying to university or to jobs, but there was enough time between now and then that he should be able to come up with a few other projects that would look good, ones where he didn't have to break the law to get the data he needed.

(That wouldn't look good on a resume- or, more likely, on a background check.)

Still, not being able to use his Hawkmoth-finding project wasn't going to bring Max's mood down. His project had been wildly successful after a discouragingly slow start, and the results... well, they had been incredibly far-reaching. The project had played a vital part in bringing an end to the attacks that had terrorized Paris for far too long, and now everyone in Paris had far less to worry about.

Max didn't need recognition. The satisfaction of a job well done... well, it made every minute of data collection analysis more than worth it.

[unsaidmar]

One, The meeting.

Plot: Both Spencer and Olivia mourn their losses. Maybe doing it together works best.

WC: 2k, I get carried away.

CW: Brief mentions of death.

A/N: Hi y’all! I’m very excited to share this. I submitted it for a creative writing assignment last week and I thought I would share it here too. This is the first time I post what I write and I kinda want to make this a series.

Olivia knew pain was lighter on the shoulders when carried with someone else, she was completely aware of the fact that pushing her friends and loved ones away was the last thing you’d want to do when grieving. Didn’t stop her, though. Opening up was a conscious effort she had to make.  

Lia had been gone exactly 467 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last.  Her mom had told her that pain didn’t have an expiration date, that she shouldn’t worry about getting over Lia’s death sooner than she was ready to, but nothing could help the feeling in the back of her mind, the little voice that reminded her that the world did not stop spinning when she left. Even if she felt like it did.

Mornings were almost automatic at this point. Get up, make an effort to look better, grab an excuse for breakfast, promise mamá you’ll get something else on the way to work, drive mindlessly to the place you knew like the back of your hand. The Grey Roots was special, it seemed to transform people’s perspective as soon as they walked in, it was full of memories and knowledge. That much was true for Spencer Reid.

Maeve had been gone exactly 278 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last. The team did their best to navigate around Spencer’s grief, always taking hints the he dropped. A fake smile that meant “we can ignore my loss today”, a shrug accompanied with the ghost of a smile that meant “today I’m feeling better, but I’m not expecting it to last”, and the words “I’m fine, I promise”, that roughly translated to “this is manageable today, so don’t ask me about it”.

The love and sense of protection the BAU had over Spencer was instinctual, which was hard when he seemed to be a thousand miles away while standing right there. Morgan had said that if isolation was what he needed right now, isolation he was going to get, but always with the promise of his friends running straight to him if he needed the comfort.

On his days off, he tried coming to terms with the loss. Loss was a tricky thing, Spencer thought. By definition, it was the state or feeling of grief when deprived of someone or something of value, so if it meant the absence of something, why did it feel like loss went with him everywhere?

The Grey Roots was a landmark in the man’s life. Maeve had recommended he visit the museum while they were corresponding, which he was more than happy to do, always trying to find a way to feel closer to her than he could actually be. Now his visits changed in nature, he was there to reminisce. To try and get the optimistic feeling of loving her to come back.

The stranger that usually walked around the museum with files in her hands went unnoticed for a while, but to her, Spencer had never gone unnoticed. She had been watching him his last four visits, visits that were a lot closer together than the usual visitors liked, which naturally, sparked her interest. She was drawn to him, always turning her head to check if he was there and her eyes lingering for a beat too long to try and come up with an excuse to start a conversation.

Olivia cared very little about dating and would usually turn down people’s advances, but as he sat there, earbuds in and basking in the sunlight the botanical garden side of the museum had to offer, she couldn’t help but hope he was one of those ballsy men that usually approached her. Apparently, the gods felt bad for Ollie, because as Spencer stood up to go, a book slipped out of his bag onto the floor. Oblivious to it, he kept walking.

“Thank the fucking gods” Ollie whispered to herself as she made a beeline for the book. Trying to reach the tall guy, she elbowed her way through the people walking in front of her and tapped him on the shoulder. Play it cool, dork.

“Hey” she said trying to get her breath back. “You dropped this back there” She tried not to fixate on the way his curls looked with the sun shining directly on them, or on the way his eyes took in her presence.

“Oh, thank you so much” He rushed out, grateful that he didn’t have to lose the last thing that connected him to Maeve and cursing himself for being so careless.

Make conversation, now. Say something. Anything. “I take it that’s important, you look relieved” she giggled to try and appear chill. Failing miserably, of course.

“Um, yeah. It was.” Beat of silence. “It is. It was a gift” He answered looking down at his feet, holding on to the book like it might disappear if he doesn’t.

Now, genuinely relieved she could spare him the disappointment, Ollie looked up at him. “Then I’m really glad you didn’t have to lose it” She replied, mirroring Spence’s thoughts, which made him smile.

To the doctor, looking at her felt almost offensive to Maeve’s memory, like she could see him staring curiously at this kind stranger whose eyes were enticing enough to make him forget how to talk. His best friend JJ was the best at reading his expressions and figuring out what he was thinking, she was smart enough to know Reid felt guilty for wanting to move on and leave the pain behind, so she made sure he knew that no one expected him to act like a widower forever, not even Maeve. After all, no one tells you how long you’re expected to mourn a loss, there’s no unspoken rule of appropriate sulking time. 278 days later still felt like too soon and just about enough at the same time. Strangely enough, he wanted to keep talking to this girl, and it would have to start with an introduction.

“I’m Spencer”

“I’m Olivia, but please call me Ollie” or call me anything you want.

“Ollie, good” he let out a giggle that was uncharacteristic of him to say the least. Mainly because he had never made it this far into a conversation with someone as pretty as Ollie. “You work here” It wasn’t a question, he noticed the plaque pinned to her shirt that read Dr. Olivia Vega, Conservator.

“Yes, I’m one of the conservators here. I know I might not look like it, but I promise I know my stuff” This observation prompted Spencer to give her a once over and he smiled at how right she was. She was wearing black cargo pants and a simple lavender t-shirt she seemed to have cropped herself, her arms were covered with little tattoos and her dark hair had streaks of purple in it. She was a sight to see, and hadn’t she been so kind and smiley, Spencer would’ve been intimidated by her. “My mom always says I look like I dropped out of high school to form my own punk band” She added, interrupting his train of thought. “I kind of agree with her now that I think about it, but I have a doctorate in history and that’s not very punk”

“Well, I’m a federal agent but I look like my grandpa, so I’m right there with you”

You do not look like a grandpa. “A federal agent, huh? The wall-climbing, gun-shooting, vest-wearing kind?”

“Sometimes, yes. But I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit so the work I do revolves around profiling people, we try to narrow down the suspect pool by studying the way the crime was committed and making educated guesses about what kind of person would do that and the possible motives behind it. I also have doctorates, but not in history” He said, glad he could sound cool in front of what appeared to be the coolest human ever. Maeve doesn’t mind you moving on, he repeated to himself.

“Judging by the fact that you didn’t introduce yourself as ‘Doctor so and so, but you can call me Spencer’ I think you’re nice and not full of yourself” Ollie joked. “I would have been super intimidated if you’d lead with that”

Is she a witch or am I thinking out loud? “You should see the people I work with. I look like a 12-year-old boy compared to them” She erupted in laughter, causing Spencer to blush. “I’m not kidding, they call me ‘kid’ and ‘pretty boy’”

They got that right, you are pretty. “No way, my older co-workers call me ‘kid’ too! And I’m their boss. The least they could do is call me Doctor Kid.” She pretended to pout.

A mom with a stroller trying to walk past them made the two realize they were still standing in the middle of the path, so entirely entertained with each other that they didn’t notice the third-grade class that had just passed them. As if the realization had struck them both at the same time, they looked back at each other, both of them trying to stretch the interaction as long as they could.

“Do you, maybe, want to have this conversation somewhere else? Perhaps not in the middle of the crowd?” She asked hopefully.

Taken aback by the offer, Spencer agreed and followed her back to her office, that looked exactly like he would expect it to. A bunch of framed pictures with friends and family covered the wall to his left, she had a jean jacket full of pins hanging behind the door and a bunch of miscellaneous books on a bookshelf right behind her desk, all of them with post its sticking out and what he assumed were her bookmarks.

After offering him coffee, they talked about all the things they had in common and relished on the things they didn’t. It was refreshing to get out of their heads and talk about something other than what stage of grief they were in. Spencer was glad that Ollie had approached him first, otherwise he wouldn’t have met her or even know she existed. A text from Penelope brought him back to reality and he sighed at his phone when he read it.

“I have to go, we got a case” He said, annoyed.

Ollie tried to mask her disappointment with an airy laugh, “Oh those fucking serial killers, so rude of them to interrupt our conversation”

Come on, Spencer. Say you want to see her again. Maeve doesn’t mind. Faster than he could process, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I want to see you again” He declared; eyes wide, afraid he came on too intense.

“Well, what a coincidence. I want that too.” She smirked, thanking the gods for all the love they seemed to be showing her today. She took a bright pink sharpie from her drawer and scribbled her number on Spencer’s palm. “Please, don’t wash your hand before you save the number”  She hoped she hadn’t blown her cover as the chilliest most relaxed person ever with that one sentence that sounded like she was begging him to call her. He took out a little white card from his bad and handed it to her.

‘SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. Behavioral Analysis Unit’. Two phone numbers were displayed along with the FBI logo. Which made Ollie look up to question it.

“Bottom one is my personal line; top one is the work phone” He anticipated the question.  

The shit eating grin he was wearing did not go unnoticed by her friends back at the BAU, but he brushed them and their raised eyebrows right off. This whole thing with Ollie was his to keep. At least for the moment.

That night, even though spent in a dingy motel a few minutes out of Redding, Pennsylvania, Spencer slept better than he had in 278 days. He wasn’t an outgoing person at all, he didn’t ask for numbers, he didn’t agree to have coffee in some stranger’s office, he didn’t text bright pink numbers sloppily written on his hand. But maybe the way they met was a sign that he should, maybe, no matter the outcome, he wanted to see where this led. Not even sure what this was.

Here goes nothing.

“Hey, this is Spencer. I didn’t wash my hand” sent at 2:13 am.

“I mean, I did. Just not until I texted you” sent at 2:13 am.

Back at her own apartment, Ollie made a mental note to go visit Lia so she could hear all about the handsome man she had met. Following the advice her therapist had given her, she took out the notepad she had devoted to the letters she wrote her and started writing what she would give anything to be able to say to her face.

[coolkitty443]

Ok. So I LOVE the Felix and Bridgette anime Miraculous AU In this AU Felix, who is Cat Noir, has to get a kiss from Ladybug to break his bad luck. He then unintentionally falls in love with Ladybug. So I wrote this after being inspired by art on pinterest Anyways here it is;

FELIX:

Your hair is dark as night, your pretty bluebell eyes. I wonder who you are beneath that strong disguise. Everyday we see each other and I hope that you’ll be mine. Together, our love could be so true, please will you be my valentine.

I cannot believe I wrote this. When did I become such an incompetent idiot. This girl is turning me into a completely love sick airhead. Ladybug is never going to see this. I crumble up my lame attempt at poetry and throw it in the trash as I leave the classroom. I’m pathetic. Ladybug could never love me.

“Hi Felix!” I’m always waiting for the moment when she finally leaves me alone. Bridgette hasn’t gone a day without trying to engage my attention since the day we met. I really do try my best to disregard her pleasantries. However, she makes it rather difficult.

“It’s such a coincidence we keep running into each other.” Bridgette grins.

“Yes, particularly because I purposely choose a different cafe every day.” I turn back to my book trying again, my very best to ignore her.

Just as I’m getting to the interesting part of my novel I can feel it being snached from my grasp. I’m over this. She’s standing in front of me with my book in her hand, stretching it up as far as she can reach.

“Bridgette you’re a complete klutz.” I stand up from the chair I was reading on, so very clearly towering above her. “Were you seriously trying to raise it above my head?” Bridgette wouldn’t be taller than me if she stood on a step stool. It would be almost adorable, if she were anyone else. I pluck the book from her hands and stash it in my schoolbag. “You’re going to have to try a little harder than that. Bridgette, you’re simply not fit for intellectual accomplishments.”

Bridgette bounces up to the other side of the table and sits. She stares up at me, the same optimistic face she has on whenever she has something to tell me. Which is everyday. It’s quite miraculous that this girl hasn’t run out of things to blab on about yet. “What do you want.”

“I’m here to ask you on a date Felix. After all, it is Valentines day.” She beams up at me. That certainly wasn’t what I was expecting.

“Bridgette, no offence but the stars will fall from the sky before I agree to go on a date with you.” For some reason, she seems almost thrilled by my response.

“Promise?” She asks, smile never faltering.

“What do you mean promise? Don’t tell me you intend on believing you have a chance.” I can’t help but snicker at the thought of Bridgette desperately begging the stars to fall.

“Anything is possible Felix. We’re made for each other, you'll see that soon enough.” She holds out her pinkie and gives me an expectant glance.

“You’re so childish.” Still, I bring forward my pinkie and lock it with hers, holding on to the thought that even she, determined as she was, could not make the stars fall from the sky.

“Seems as if we have an agreement Cutie Pie.” She nods as if settling my fate. How is she so self-assured? I shouldn’t have agreed to this.

“Don’t ever call me that again.” I snapped. Bridgette smiles and runs in the other direction.

“I’ll see you tonight Cutie Pie!” Bridgette giggles. “Wear something nice okay!” She’s completely absurd.

“You should seriously give that girl some more credit Felix. Bridgette seems like the kind of person with bright ideas.” Plagg articulated.

“Plagg if you shut up I’ll give you some camembert when we get home.”

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Thump. There’s Bridgette. Right in the middle of my lonely pity party. Flying through my window.

“Damn it Bridgette you’re an idiot you’re going to get hurt. Get up.” She was laying in the middle of my floor. Which means that she got up onto the roof, scaled the wall, and climbed through my window. She’s unbelievably dense.

“Hi Felix! Aren’t you surprised?” She gets up and brushes dirt off her dress. It’s a deep blue and ends just above her knee. Silver constellations printed across the skirt. Bridgette got up onto the roof, scaled the wall, and climbed in through my window. In what looks like a designer item. I’m not fazed by anything she does anymore.

“I told you to wear something nice!” She pouts.

“That’s what this is about Bridgette? I told you that I’d go on a date with you when the stars fall from the sky. Leave me alone.” This time she doesn’t drag me. She just smiles, and walks towards the window. Just my luck. A meteor shower.

“You promised.”

The thought of going on a date with someone like Bridgette seems absolutely repulsive. The stars aren’t falling, they're simply relocating. But, I have nothing better to do tonight. So, I follow her out my bedroom window.

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BRIDGETTE:

“You’re absolutely insane.” We were on the roof, a rope placed so we could get down, after I fixed it there as Ladybug.

“Yes, probably.” I can’t help but smile at the look of Felix’s face. Calm and collective as always, never daunted by my clever ideas. I had to find some way to get him out of the house without his father or bodyguard noticing, and it’s not like I could just carry him there as Ladybug. So we climb down.

Felix goes first, making it seem surprisingly undifficult. He’s stronger than he looks. All he does is read and practice piano all day. Strange. He gets to the bottom quickly with ease, leaving me to go next. I think I’ll make this a bit more entertaining for myself.

“Here I come!” I grab hold of the rope and jump off. Sliding down, I knock Felix to the ground, landing on top of him.

“Get. Off of me.” He shoves me off of him and gets up, sweeping dirt and grass off his jacket. Then, reaches his hand out to help me up.

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FELIX:

A rooftop dinner overlooking Paris. Why does she like me? Even Bridgette could find someone better than me. I’m not good for anything. Why go through so much trouble? She gestures for me to sit. There are candles, hearts, and roses everywhere. It’s tasteless.

“Happy Valentines day Felix.” Bridgette sits on the other side of the table and sets a large bowl of heart shaped chocolates in the middle. I don’t care for sweets.

“Are you in love with me Bridgette? This is quite extravagant for an evening conversation. You should try this with someone who actually likes you.” My question took her by surprise.

“I’ll have you know that there is someone head over heels for me. He’s just not my type.” she scoffed.

“You’d have to be a complete moron to be rejected by Bridgette Dupain-Cheng.” I laugh.

“What do you mean?” She seems a bit hurt by my comment. Does she honestly not know how she acts?

“Damn it Bridgette you’re pathetic. Following me around like a love sick puppy. I would never love someone like you. Give it up all ready.” It’s almost hilarious that she really hasn't caught on. “You know you’re the only one that hasn’t left me alone? The only one left that cares about me. You’re also the one person I couldn’t care less about. So leave me alone!” She’s always gotten on my nerves. Her determination makes my blood boil.

When I look over, I can see tears welling up in her eyes. Odd. no matter how many times I’ve offended her she’s always bounced back right away. That’s just who she is. A small ray of sunshine in an otherwise pitch black world. She’s still staring at me in shock, tears streaming down her face.

This time I went too far. I don’t think I ever really wanted to hurt her. I just wanted her to stay away from me. When you trust someone like me, you get hurt.

“I really did believe in you Felix.” Without another word, she gets up from the table and starts walking away. A black butterfly flutters towards her as she walks.

“Bridgette! Watch out!” I try to put distance between her and the akuma but it’s too late. The butterfly takes place in a chocolate that she was still holding and begins to overtake her emotions. I do the only thing I can think of, and pull her as tight to me as I can.

“Get your hands off me.” She’s struggling to get away but I can’t let her, so I wrap her into a tighter embrace.

“Please Bridgette, you can fight this. You believe in me, I believe in you too.” All I can do is plead as she fights against my hold. There’s still time, the akuma hasn’t completely taken over yet.

“Back off! Stop it!” She’s screaming now, tears furiously running down her cheeks. I can’t help her. “Get away from me! I hate you, I hate you.”

This girl is unbelievably strong. She’s fighting hard against her emotions, I can see that. Just need to hold on for a bit longer. I did this to her. Bridgette is in pain because of me. Why do I care? I didn’t yesterday.

“I hate you! I hate you! I ha-” She gives up struggling against my hold and sinks to the ground, crying as I hold her.

“I’m sorry.” I mutter. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.” Bridgette’s negative thoughts must have faded because the butterfly surrenders and tries to leave. Dumping the bowl of chocolates from the table, I trap the akuma.

“Why do you even tolerate me Bridgette? I’m horrible to everyone. You’re always so positive in every situation.”

“I have you. And even if you don’t want me, you’ll always have me.” She smiles and rubs the tears off her face.

“You don’t know a thing about who I really am Bridgette. If you knew you wouldn’t be here with me.”

“Your favourite is blue. You love reading romantic poetry, even though you try to hide it. You spend all your time in coffee shops to get out of spending time at home with your father.” She pauses and looks up from the chocolate piece she was fiddling with. “You pretend you want to be alone, but you’re glad that you have someone to talk to. Felix you can decline my gifts and push me away. What I know is, the boy I love, shoving his hand in my face and telling me he’s not interested everyday, still puts his book away when I try to talk to him.”

It’s terrifying, realizing that someone knows you better than you know yourself.