#the duty of protecting people at odds with your own desires

[ly2cheeart]

In the Name of the Goddess, I'll Punish You!

[cherrysweets-world]

Eyes of the Gods VII

series masterlist - part six

Pairing: Caracalla x fem!Reader x Geta

Summary: You experience the consequences of the previous night.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, toxic relationships, unhealthy relationships, controlling/possessive behavior, dub-con, forced proximity, sexism, historical inaccuracies

Word Count: 2.5k

You were awake long before the sun peeked over the horizon. It lit up Caracalla's rooms bit by bit until it was impossible to ignore. You attempted to sit up but Caracalla's arm was iron-tight around your waist.

He mumbled something but did not wake. His brother, on the other hand, looked at you with clear eyes. You suspected Geta had also struggled to find sleep. His eyes were red and irritated, his face pale despite the lack of makeup.

"Lie back down," he commanded quietly.

"I have duties to attend to," you reminded him.

"Your duties are what I say they are," he dismissed. He reached up and pressed his hand flat against your sternum, forcing you down until your back hit the pillows.

A tense quiet ensued. Geta did not move his hand. The rings on his fingers glinted in the rising sun. You could see indents in his skin where he had repeatedly twisted them.

In the light of day things seemed so much clearer. You hand found some odd comfort in the presence of the emperors last night - idiotic. Idiotic because it was likely your proximity to them that had driven this strange act against you.

Yet what else could you do? Your friends were out of reach; you had no-one else to confide in. The attack was not really against you. It was against the emperors. Had someone managed to harm you it would have been no different to breaking their favourite toy.

Geta cleared his throat. "You have been very affectionate with my brother."

Your head snapped to face him. "You say that as though I have had a choice. Emperor."

Geta scoffed, tugging on a strand of your hair. "I've watched you with him. You are hardly unwilling."

Shamed, you turned your head to face the man in question. Caracalla slept peacefully despite the tension brewing beside him. Soft gusts of breath ghosted your upper arm as he slumbered on, eyes moving rapidly beneath the lids. What did the Emperor of Rome dream of other than conquering and bloodshed?

Geta's fingers crept up to your chin and he forced you to turn back to him. "Look at me. Not him."

"I - I do not know what you want," you stammered. Your hands hovered uselessly in the air as though you could protect yourself against him.

"I want what you have given my brother," he said, rising until he was on his knees. He straddled you, entrapping you between his knees. "I demand that you look at me the same way you do him."

Trembling, you shook your head. If you had any control over your empathy you would not be in the position you were currently in. You would have walked on that night, focused on your own desires, and whatever was beneath the table would have been a mystery.

Geta's hand encircled your throat. "I thought you might understand now," he whispered, "what it is like to be hated. People have tried to hurt my brother and I before - last night they tried to hurt you. Do you not understand?"

"I understand," you nodded frantically. It was not a lie.

Geta leaned down until his nose dusted yours, until you were sharing the same breath of air. "You do. I can see that you do," he continued, "which is why you must obey us. Give yourself to us. No more questioning looks or quiet contemplation. We are your Emperors."

You wrapped a hand around Geta's wrist but did not try to pull it away. Whatever this was had been brought on by the incident last night. This desperate bid for understanding, for sympathy. Geta had not been as large of a presence in your life as Caracalla. It was clear he'd been using the distance between the pair of you to observe, to figure out how to draw emotions from you like water from a well.

"And what am I?" you asked, voice shaking.

"Ours," he said simply. "Nothing else matters."

He pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. You cried out and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth before pulling away, satisfied.

For the moment.

Others peered at you curiously from your spot beside the emperors. They were sat on their thrones, glistening with gold and intricate details. You stuck out like a sore thumb beside them on a small wooden chair.

It was not possible to rise as you had without being in service of the emperors and most thought that women could only offer one thing. They probably thought you were a whore. Maybe they were right.

A senator cleared his throat, side-eying you. "It has been done, my Emperors."

His words piqued your interest. Was it possible that they had found the one responsible for last night? You glanced over at Geta, gauging his reaction.

He looked bored. "Have them cut them down in two hours."

Alarmed, you waited until the senator had left the room to turn to Geta. "Cut who down, Emperor?"

"The fools responsible for last night," he snarled, "I had them hung for their carelessness."

"Praetorians?" you asked, horrified. "How many?"

"Five or six," he shrugged, "just the ones on duty in that particular corridor."

Somehow, after everything you had seen and experienced, you were stunned. Whilst you had been wrapped up in your own misery last night, six men had been living their last hours.

Geta's lip curled at the expression on your face. "You cannot possibly believe that they should live. It is because of them that we were all in danger and the culprit may feel emboldened enough to come back."

"Though he shall not get away with it again," Caracalla giggled, high pitched and unserious.

You almost wished the person would come back. Geta and Caracalla had increased the amount of Praetorians everywhere they could. Twenty had been pulled from their duties on the outskirts of the city. If the culprit dared to come back they would undoubtedly be killed and you could rest easily.

It was a selfish want. You were beginning to see that sometimes you had to be a little bit selfish in order to survive. You pushed all thoughts of the Praetorians aside. If you did not you were not sure you could cope.

It was at that moment that Lady Lucilla walked into the room. You tilted your head up to observe her approaching. She was beautiful, her clothing elegant and complementing the many braids and curls of her hair. There was a sprig of lavender in her hand; you imagined the smells of the city were quite overwhelming for someone who lived further on the outskirts.

The stench of death, you thought.

She offered you a soft smile and you reciprocated. You had never personally interacted with her but her maids had never said a bad word. That did not mean that they liked her - it is hard to like those who have naturally been given advantages in life - but she was kind in a world where that was not the norm.

"Emperors," she bowed her head. "And you are -?"

Caracalla told her your name and she repeated it, acknowledging you before turning back to the emperors. They offered no explanation for why you were there and she did not ask.

"My husband and I are grateful for the respite you so graciously offered him."

You ears perked up at that. It had been the first you had heard of General Acacius since that day in Geta's rooms. It seemed that, against all odds, the brothers had considered your words.

"We will be attending your games tomorrow," she continued, "we both. . .look forward to it."

You almost laughed. It seemed Lady Lucilla enjoyed violence almost as much as you. This was the first you had heard of the Games being tomorrow. You did not have to ask to know that it was likely you would be forced to attend.

It would not go well for you. Blood was one thing, but gore and the violence against animals truly turned your stomach. The Gladiators only had an illusion of choice - fight for your freedom or die. It took years to earn freedom and those few who did were often shells of themselves by the end.

The emperors behaved differently with Lady Lucilla. It was apparent that they yearned for her approval. Their own parents had passed on quite some time ago. If they had an adult mentor in their lives perhaps things would have been different. For them and for you.

Lady Lucilla left the hall and you were once again alone with the emperors. There were a few slaves on the outskirts of the walls but they were not within earshot. That had been you, once. How you craved for the coolness of the wall against your back, the weight of a jug in your hand and the blessing of invisibility.

"I need to relieve myself," you abruptly said, standing from your chair.

Caracalla waved you away but did not take his eyes off you as you went. How long did you have before they would come looking for you? Five minutes? Ten? If you took any longer they would likely come and drag you back to the hall themselves.

You were in such a rush that you almost bumped into Lady Lucilla as you rounded the corner.

"Oh," you held out your hands, "I am so sorry. Please, forgive me."

"You are forgiven," she laughed, holding the lavender beneath her nose. "I understand why you might be in a hurry."

You swallowed and glanced around before shrugging. It was best if you did not say too much. Whilst you were not sure of the specifics, you were aware that there had been tensions between Lucilla and the emperors in the last few years. She was beloved by the people. Her support meant the support of Rome.

"I do not wish to keep you for long," she said slowly, "but I understand that you have the ear of the emperors."

"No," you gasped, "not at all, I -"

"I am not asking for favors," she assured you, "only offering advice. They lack good guidance and spurn those who offer it. If you find yourself in a position to give it, do so. They do not understand the people of Rome - perhaps you do."

With that, she turned and left. You pondered her words for a moment before heading to relieve yourself, lest the emperors come retrieve you.

It was becoming apparent why you had been targeted last night. Someone viewed you as - what, a threat? It was difficult to wrap your mind around. Your life had been thrown in to chaos and had been that way for almost two weeks now. You hardly had time for plotting and scheming!

It felt as though you existed only for the amusement of Caracalla and Geta. To think you had any real sway over them was laughable. The fact they had given Acacius leave was nothing to do with you.

It was not just the emperors that were dangerous; merely being around them was pushing you into new perilous situations.

When you returned to the hall Caracalla was on his feet, gesturing wildly amongst a group of guards. When he saw you he seemed to calm, shoving past the Praetorians and coming to meet you halfway.

He held your forearms in a bruising grip. "Where did you go?"

"To relieve myself," you squeaked, "as I told you."

His eyes scanned your face, searching for the lie. When he did not find one he smiled, turning round and dragging you back to the thrones.

Instead of letting you sit back on your own chair he settled you in his lap. Humiliation burned hot and true. He set about playing with your hair, twirling strands and occasionally tugging them if he felt your attention strayed from him.

To their credit, the senators that came to talk to the emperors did a good job of ignoring you. There was only confusion, mostly likely at the fact you did not resemble the concubines that typically were strewn about the place.

The entire day had been exhausting in a way you had not experienced before. The senators were frustrating and repetitive. If they disagreed with something they had no better idea to offer. They simpered and scraped, flattered and exaggerated, and after five hours had gone by you were thoroughly irritated.

"And. . .there will be food at these Games?" senator Velius asked.

"That is what I said," Geta raised his chin, looking every bit the proud emperor. "The people will enjoy themselves more if we feed them as well as entertain them. And what is the job of an emperor, if not to serve the people?"

"Of course," senator Velius nodded. He looked as though he was expecting to be told it was a joke. You would have thought so too but Geta had told the last three senators that had come the same thing.

Geta cared less about the people and more about his and his brother's image. It appeared as though he had finally settled on a way to control how they were perceived. You knew pandering to those he saw as below him was painful.

Geta had decided to have stalls outside the coliseum, offering food provided from their most recent conquest. Apparently Acacius had brought back exotic fruits and animals you had not seen before but the most special items were to be saved for the palace.

People were mostly simple beings. As long as they were fed and entertained everything else fell somewhere behind on the list of priorities.

"You'll sit with us during the Games," Caracalla told you, pinching your thighs.

"The Games make me sick," you said bluntly.

"Then you can look at me instead," he said hotly, trying to squeeze his hands between your locked thighs. "Open -"

"Brother," Geta interrupted, as he always did. "Save the excitement for tomorrow."

Caracalla scowled and nipped at your jaw before allowing you to sit back in your seat. The small spot on your jaw stung from his teeth and you absentmindedly rubbed the area.

You had seen how bloodshed excited the emperors. Tomorrow would be intense - for the gladiators and for you.

It was not just the blood. It was the people - the praise, the cheers, the exhilaration of it all. The moment when the gods used them as vessels and decided whether to let a man live or kill him as he knelt in the sand.

You could feel Caracalla's eyes burning a hole in the side of your head. You were not sure why Geta restrained himself and his brother but you got the sense that Caracalla was not going to put up with it for much longer.

Geta scared you. You saw the way he looked at you. You had seen the evidence of his desire in his robes. It felt as though he was waiting for something only you had no idea what that something may be.

Why had they not just taken what they wanted already? You tried not to think of them touching you but it was hard when every day you were wondering why they had not. Their resistance had you obsessing over every moment, wondering if this was finally it, and as a result you were thinking about sex far too often.

It felt like a ridiculous mind game that you had no hope of winning. You were not entirely sure what winning even meant anymore. You felt only loss and a sick sense of anticipation.

Author’s Note - please please leave likes, comments & reblogs if you enjoyed! I also love asks so if you have thoughts please send them♥️

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[tojisparasite]

TW- feet, God, power imbalance, kidnapping, dub-con, master/slave dynamic

A/N- Hiii (´∀｀) !! just wanted to quickly tag @naoyasgf for the foot idea AND giving me her thoughts on this imagine. i hope whoever reads this enjoys it as well <3 Thank you! there is one typo here that i missed and can’t seem to find so sorry abt that! ^^

𓆩My god, my tourniquet𓆪

a world where your f/o is a god(dess) amongst men and has been for well over a thousand years…

the people adore them, their preachers are considered enlightened and stand within their good graces! but your f/o seems almost bored of all the devotion and never-ending attention. some prayers are being answered depending on how merciful they want to be that day or they even cause disaster to happen within your mortal world. they did what they wanted and they indulged in that every second of each day.

all this peace and destruction they bring into the world and they still feel a sort of emptiness, someone as highly thought about and well-loved should never feel empty or dissatisfied! it irks them greatly because no matter how many souls they reap out of their own pure selfishness or how many miracles they cause nothing feels fulfilling.

they decide to go into the human world to go searching for what this could be the cause of, perhaps there were people fighting against their word?

as they walk the streets everything seems to be in order, there are more worshippers than non-believers… thankfully.

then you bump into them, you must have been running late or running from someone or something! either way, you didn’t even notice the figure in front of you—how careless of you to not feel the essence of your own god(dess) up close.

when they took a look at the person who so rudely ran into them they felt something they have never felt since their creation… they don’t know what it is yet it disgusts them, or so they think.

“I’m sorry!” you shout as you returned to dashing down the crowded streets in the middle of the day. where you were going, they didn’t know; not yet at least.

they spent the most of their day in the mortal world deep in thought, what was it about you of all humans that made them feel so… odd?

eventually they go back to their kingdom that was light years away from your world, their personal servants ready to serve as always. your f/o dismisses them, they didn’t want lowly servants to serve them any more…

they wanted you to serve them.

it could only make sense! they were so empty because they were in need of a new servant, and you were so cute, absolutely clueless of the situation you got yourself into. it made them desire your presence and your servitude even more.

your f/o wasted no time to appear into your home—finding you was not at all difficult, they simply had to think of your clueless little face and now know everything about you.

“you poor thing, not at all meant for the human world.” they lowered themself to coo into your ear, you were in such a deep sleep. you must’ve been comfortable knowing your god(dess) was coming to rescue you from the mortal world, you were so willing already and that made something in them feel alive—this was as close as they could get to feeling what a mortal felt when they saw the thing or person they adored.

without hesitation they cradled you, keeping you in a protective embrace. before you could open your eyes, there you were. in the holy kingdom, the world you only heard about in scriptures and sermons.

“did i… did i die?” your voice was so soft it was hardly audible had you not been in the arms of your f/o.

your f/o chuckled and shook their head, reassuring you that you are not quite dead—but you won’t be returning ‘home’ anymore. home was with them! aren’t you grateful?

you seemed to have adjusted as well as you possibly could, learning you duties as a servant. but when your f/o was bored they’ll pull you onto their lap, saying it was an order that you had to stay put right their with them.

your new life didn’t seem too bad, you were the beloved companion/servant for your f/o. no one bothered you and you didn’t bother them, you remained at the side of your god(dess).

eventually, all your thoughts turned to pleasing them and only them. some days you fulfilled their wishes, no matter how strange it was—be it kissing almost every crevice of their body, bathing them, feeding them. occasionally they would force you to be doted on by them, they would claim you’re terrible at taking care of yourself.

months pass (at least you’d assume so), and your f/o has a peculiar request for today.

“get on your knees and kiss my feet.”

“what?”

your f/o had a small sneer forming already, irritated by your question. you never dared question them till now. why now? why not when you had to bathe the body of a thousand year old being? you genuinely drew the line at kissing their feet?

“did i stutter? grovel beneath me and kiss my feet.” they spoke firmly while gripping the back of your hair, pushing you downwards till you were on your knees at last. they sat back down in their seat to watch as you stared up at them with glossy eyes and flushed cheeks—you were humiliated and they loved it.

“you look pathetic here stop looking at me.” they rolled their eyes and tapped their shoe against your lips, “go on.”

your hands trembled as you took hold of their ankle, pressing a small kiss to the material.

“you can do better than that,” they scoffed and rolled their eyes, “you don’t kiss the rest of my body like that. are you basically saying you don’t love your god(dess)?” they questioned. they felt almost insulted by your reluctance but managed to keep their cool. see how benevolent they could be towards you?

“no! but—” your voice crackled whilst you tried to explain yourself.

“then properly kiss it.” they pressed the shoe against your lips harder this time, your teeth indenting on the insides of your mouth. they refused to hear any pathetic excuse you tried to muster up.

you swallowed a thick pool of saliva before obliging and kissing their shoe better.

you couldn’t even begin to think about why they wanted this. there was never no reasoning or explanation for their desires, if they want it they got it. no questions asked.

you pressed a more meaningful kiss to the tip of the shoe, then another, then one more for good measure; all while keeping their ankle in your grasp.

they loved how obedient you were, how eager you were to please them. they loved you so much in their own twisted little way.

you took it up a notch slightly and removed their shoe, then their sock. pecking the sole of their foot. warm, wet trails were being left behind from your soft and delicate lips.

“you love this don’t you? worshipping your god(dess). kissing my foot that graces the ground you and i share? this is the closest you’ll get to feeling like my equal, pet.” they let out a soft chuckle. they were amused by your seemingly innocent obedience. no matter how much time has passed to them you’ll always look like their clueless pet.

meanwhile, all you did was press more kisses all around their foot. humming in response as a way to signal that you agreed with them. how could you disagree with someone who could end you without a second thought.

seeing how well you responded to this command, they looked forward to pushing you for the sake of another disgusting desire.

- Cherub 🐾🍡

[good-beanswrites]

Any thoughts about your Hello Es AU?🎤

Thank you ooh -- this was so fun to think about! (I did some art earlier here :)) Spoiler warning for all three episodes of Hello Charlotte 🧸👁️🩸

So, out there in the real world somewhere, there exists “real Es”, (the Charles of the story) who has created Es as his perfect protagonist/ideal identity. Real Es ends up killing someone, and undergoing some kind of psychotic break that creates The House (now known as The Prison). Various people from his life appear there, each with their own murder, reflecting Real Es’ complex feelings about their own crime.

Es/Charlotte – A puppet at the whims of the audience. They have many forms along with conflicting thoughts and motivations. As lax as they may get about their own safety, they always take their duty to the tenets very seriously. They have a little Magalope pet :3 I know in canon the characters are separate, but I’m still picturing them as some combination of Q84 and Ep1/2 Charlotte. 

Fuuta/Felix – The fiery friend who's all bark and no bite. He’s the most openly aggressive out of everyone, but still ends up trying to help people around him. Through his attempts to do something helpful, his recklessness, and need to be treated as an adult, he can find himself in pretty significant danger.

Kazui/Aiden – Calm and quiet, but you get a sense he's very observant to the current situation in his silence. Just because he prefers to do his tailoring/piano hobbies doesn't mean he doesn’t have that underlying demon strength. The most parental over Es, even if they're not always receptive.

Shidou/Huxley – A doctor/scientist with a desire to help save the most (alien) lives that he can, even if it means living on the run as a criminal, as well as an odd coolness when it comes to unethical medical procedures.

Mikoto and John/Bennett – when he’s high on soap, he’s as cheery as always :) Just a normal working guy, you probably won’t even remember his face under the hazmat suit, very normal :) When the effects wear off and the stress gets to him, though, John fronts and isn't afraid to defend himself from any perceived threat.

Yuno/Florence – Puts up a cheery front and is happy to work when she's having fun. After a bit of prodding, she reveals a much more serious and jaded side. She gets along with everyone, but isn't afraid to tell her real feelings to Es when the time is right.

Haruka and Muu /Anri – I’m kind of splitting Anri to make two characters, still capturing her fluctuating status in school and attitude of give-and-receive in friendships. They're caring but clingy, they can be protective but also aggressive. Both of them go back and forth between the personalities we see from her in all three episodes. 

Amane/Frei – (I know in canon Frei is another Charlotte, so I think that works well given how close they are in age and stubbornness.) She sees things through a view of gods/religion, even if not everyone sees the situation that way. She's a bit at odds with Es, trying to persuade them to join in her mindset, but genuinely cares for their well-being while doing it.

Mahiru/Vincent – The new friend with some strange delusions of a perfect “heavenly” world, a hobby of literature, and suicidal intentions. Es takes pity on her after she receives serious injuries from people who reject her. Real Es developed some kind of attachment to her real counterpart (like Charles' idolization of Vincent), and this manifests into Mahiru crazy about relationships and love.

Kotoko/Scarlett – Has a close mindset to Es (close enough to stem more directly from them) but her intensity and drive for perfection/justice turn them into enemies in some timelines. She gets the closest look at the “real” situation compared to the others, seeing behind the scenes and criticizing Es and the Prison as a whole. She's determined she could do better herself, and Es takes her up on that…

—

I’m not going to make a whole post, but for a reverse au I think it’d be fun to see The House tenants featured in Charles’ milgram mv – as the focal character, the audience/Warden would probably assume Charlotte was his victim. Only later would they realize that Charlotte is the stand-in for himself, and that truly he feels responsible for not stopping Vincent’s suicide. 

[lakeerieplesiosaur]

Why Israel's Right to Self-Defense is Non-Negotiable

The narrative around Israel's actions, especially in contexts like Gaza/West Bank, often gets muddled with political rhetoric and explicit antisemitism, but let's clarify a fundamental truth: Israel is not commiting genocide, is engaging in decolonization, and is acting in justified self-defense. Here's why this stance is objectively correct:

Historical Context: Since its inception, Israel has faced existential threats. From the 1948 War of Independence to the ongoing threats from Hamas, Hezbollah, and other entities, Israel's history is marked by survival against odds. This context isn't just history; it's a daily reality for Israeli citizens. Even before the establishment of Israel, Jews living in the land of Israel faced frequent massacres and were the victims of attempted genocide. In general, religious minorities in the middle east, both historically and currently, face violent persecution, sexual violence and slavery, and genocide. Unsurprisingly, many Druze, Yezidis, and Zoroastrians live in Israel as well as it is one of the only safe places for them in the middle east.

Moral Imperative: The moral duty of any government is to protect its citizens. When faced with threats like tunnels designed for attacks, or rockets aimed at civilian centers, the moral choice is clear: defend your populace. Placing the lives of another country above the lives of your own citizens is suicidal empathy at its finest - instead of ensuring your citizens are safe, you ensure no one is safe. The safety of another populations citizens is in the hands of their government, and if their government cannot ensure this for them (as is the case with Hamas,) it is a sad reality for them but Israel cannot be held responsible for a neighboring country's attempt to put their citizens in harm's way to advance their genocidal agenda. The terroristic leadership of Palestine is responsible for all deaths that have resulted from their government's abdication of their duty to protect their citizens in their genocidal quest to erase Israel.

Economic and Social Impact: The constant state of alert, the need for bomb shelters, and the economic strain of defense spending highlight the cost of living under threat. Israel's proactive defense isn't just about military strategy but about ensuring a semblance of normalcy for its citizens. Israel has lost many people over the decades to these terrorist groups. So many children have grown up in bomb shelters. Hundreds of thousands of Israelis have been displaced by the fighting just recently, even more have lost their homes over the decades. The terrorist regimes have destroyed so many natural and historical wonders in the land of Israel; the north is currently burning due to the actions of the enemies of Israel who have no regard for the environmental impact of their near daily bombing of Israel.

Global Perspective: While critics might focus on Israel's actions by mischaracterizing them in the most antisemitic way possible to push their propagandazied delusions, they often ignore the broader geopolitical context where Israel stands alone in a region controlled by genocidal terrorist regimes, all of which are engaging in a multifront war on Iran's behalf to commit genocide against Israel, the Jews, and any who support them. Let us be clear: the goal of Israel's enemies is genocide. It is a joke to frame Israel's actions as genocidal when they are currently the victim of an ongoing genocide attempt. This isolation and their position as a target of genocide by several different coordinated terrorist groups necessitates a robust defensive and offensive response. There is no reason for Israel to have to play the games of these genocidal regimes that are not shy about their desire to erase Israel. They will not live in peace and will respect Israel's territory, so Israel is justified to enter the territory of these genocidal entities, eliminate the threat to its people, and impose order. These terrorist regimes need to be demilitarized. Israel is not the only benefactor from this: civilians in these areas benefit from the dissolution of their terroristic governments that enforce a low standard of living, sacrifice their citizens' lives in political stunts, and impose barbaric conditions such as Sharia law-based apartheid against women.

Humanitarian Efforts: The IDF takes humanitarian efforts beyond any other military. They warn civilians in advance of strikes and establish safe zones; they have clearly defined military targets and take as much care as possible to keep civilians away from them; they distribute food, water, medical care, and temporary housing at a rate far beyond what any military has ever done foe a civilian population in a modern or historical conflict. Palestinians who aid the IDF are granted Israeli citizenship. Israel aleeady supplied over half of Palestine's water and electricity free of charge prior to the war. This isn't widely publicized due to antisemitic misreporting in main stream media but reflects a nuanced approach to security and humanity, and shows that the IDF is in fact the most moral army. The casualty numbers from the Hamas ministry of health are notoriously inaccurate and have been caught falsifying numbers in numerous ways, but even using their numbers to civilian to combatant death ratio is one of the lowest EVER observed in modern warfare - it is around 1 combatant killed per 1.5 civilians (and is likely even lower than this due to inflated casualty numbers.) The UN puts the average civilian to combatant death ratio in modern wars at 1 combatant for 9 civilians.

In essence, Israel's right to defend itself isn't up for debate. It's a necessity born from reality, not rhetoric. Israel's stance isn't about aggression but survival, a principle that should resonate universally. Israel is not the aggressor in any of the regional conflicts it finds itself in and thus the burden of casualties is the sole fault of the aggressor (the Iranian axis of terror.)

[benedicite-stellas]

All of the fandom ones for Hyo? And the ones asking for canon characters, Will! :D

tagging @tiredsleep and @deck0fc4rds because they also asked the same thing 😋🫶

all of the answers are utc

How does (canon character) feel about your OC?

WILL feels pretty close with HYO, they work as partners 🫡 Not only that but the way they’re able to see through another person’s eyes is also VERY similar, the only difference is that Hyo is able to see through the eyes of the victim. They have an odd relationship where it’s not just platonic and not exactly romantic but a secret third thing. Like do they have very strong tension in intimate moments like when they reenact a crime scene, yes. But will they ever kiss or say anything explicitly like “I love you”? WHO KNOWS. But they both do wish they were brought closer together in different circumstances

How does your OC feel about (canon character)?

HYO also feels the same way as WILL in the sense that they’re pretty close. There’s like a soft vulnerability that comes with understanding that they both really enjoy with each other. They’re both fiercely loyal to the other and basically are like. locked in for realsies. If no one believes the other one, they know they got each other’s backs ‼️ To be quite honest I can’t tell if they’re normal about each other or not, but compared to other people in the show I think they are 😰 

Has your OC ever made (canon character) laugh? / What about cry?

omg HYO and WILL make each other giggle all the time, it’s very silly. They like to crack small inside jokes pretty often to make sure they’re both not being so caught up in their own heads. I don’t think they’ve made each other cry (i say as i literally created hyo and her lore) but i think the closest that comes to crying is like. being very concerned over the other person which has happened often

Do your OC and (canon character) ever cross paths?

YES ‼️‼️‼️ HYO becomes WILL’s work partner through Jack. Jack has known Hyo for a while because she actually used to work for the BAU for a short amount of time before a case got her real fucked up (which is why she has the neck scar) and so she was taken out of duty 👎 She got back into work though after Will unofficially joined because it only made sense

Which canon character annoys your OC?

It’s a tie between DR. CHILTON and HANNIBAL. Okay to be fair, HYO doesn’t like medical professionals/psychiatrists 😭😭😭 so like anyone in those fields already put her on guard due to past trauma. She doesn’t like either of them but unfortunately for her, much like Will, she catches their interest. Another character would be FREDDIE. I think she would get irritated more with Freddie than the other two to be honest. Freddie sticks her nose in Hyo’s personal life which she’s very protective about

What canon character gets annoyed by your OC?

A character that gets like. annoyed. ERMMM. I think ALANA, and not because HYO is like “in the way” between her and Will/Hannibal (at least at first before shit went down) but because she got the vibe that Hyo didn’t like her. Hyo is neutral about Alana leaning towards dislike so Alana’s guess wasn’t entirely off

Which canon character respects your OC most? What gained that respect?

In all honesty, it’s a toss up between BEV and WILL. Bev really respects HYO a lot because of how she handles cases with a dedicated focus and desire to solve it and how she tries her best to not get lost in her own head. WILL has pretty much the same reason too

Which canon character doesn’t respect your OC whatsoever?

ERMMMM. THIS IS A GOOD QUESTION I DONT KNOW. oh wait that’s a lie i do know. Probably FREDDIE. Freddie is all up in Hyo’s personal life it’s so bad 😭😭😭

Which canon character does your OC respect a lot?

HYO respects BEV, WILL, and JACK a whole lot. She really appreciates them and what they do not only for her but for other people as well. They’re people who she knows is doing what they think is genuinely right

Which canon character does your OC not respect at all? Why?

HYO does not give a flying fuck about FREDDIE. At all. If there is one thing Hyo absolutely cannot tolerate, it’s when nosey people refuse to give up. She does not take kindly to people digging up and trying to find stuff about her personal life that she’s left in the past, especially not when it’s Freddie. You would see Hyo get so bitchy when Freddie is around

Which canon character is pissed off by the general presence of OC? (we all have those people)

FREDDIE. 😭😭😭 She couldn’t finish like a single question because HYO kept shutting her down. Hyo does that any time when Freddie asks about her

Does your OC have a crush on anyone?

Not a crush, not platonic, but a secret third thing 🎉

Who would probably have a crush on your OC?

This is a good question, I also don’t know 🧍‍♀️ I think WILL to be honest would catch feelings for her but not realize it which is when and why their relationship develops into secret third thing. So Will or another hannibal OC I have who is named VICTOR. I haven’t talked much about him on here but he’s like. I wouldn’t call it a crush necessarily but yeah he’s very not normal about Hyo. He himself would call it a crush but she’s his muse out of many

Who would your OC most likely to get a puppy-crush on? (but it can’t be the cc they’re actually shipped with!)

HYO doesn’t really get puppy crushes 😰 it’s very OOC for her to have like. a puppy-crush on someone 👎  Closest thing I can think of to that would be her middle school best friend #codependentyuri

Who would your OC say is their best friend?

BEV and WILL are HYO’s besties 😋 (also Victor if this is before his case) (after his case then no) Also if we’re including relatives then most definitely her brothers

Who would call your OC their best friend?

BEV, WILL, VICTOR (before and after his case), and HANNIBAL. Also her brothers if we’re including relatives 

Who has brought your OC to tears before?

HYO’s middle school best friend ;smiley~1; Both happy tears and sad tears. Mainly sad tears though

Who has your OC made cry?

All of the psychiatrists/therapists/nurses/doctors that have taken care of her 😰

Is there someone your OC didn’t like at first, but then got along with later?

JACK 😭😭😭 She didn’t like Jack when she first met him, but then he started to grow on her and now she respects him a lot

Is there someone your OC liked at first, but then grew to dislike?

UMMM. The first nurse that took care of her 😰 That was the transition to the horrors

Who does your OC hate?

FREDDIE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 and every person in healthcare + mental healthcare that was in charge of her

Who does your OC love? (platonic)

BEV 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Who does your OC love? (familial)

HER PARENTS + BROTHERS + NIECES/NEWPHEWS + HER SON DAISUKE 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Does your OC love anyone? (romantic)

NOT ROMANTIC OR PLATONIC BUT SECRET THIRD THING WILL GRAHAM 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Has your OC ever had to let a canon character down easy?

I WOULDN’T THINK SO??? Let down as in like. Reject someone? The way I’m interpreting this question is rejecting a character softly because they had a crush on her. In that case, no 😋

Has your OC ever been rejected by a canon character?

HYO isn’t a confession type of girlie so no ❌ she’s all about yearning looks and soft smiles

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc?

I’m a little stumped on this question. Full character arc so im thinking of like the changes the characters went through that the show went over and not like. all the way from the start #birth character arc. Because if it’s not the latter then that would be majority of the cast no?

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story? 

Um. 🧍‍♀️Really good question. I think the worst HYO has ever done was like beat up people really badly when she was in middle school, but she hasn’t killed anyone (i dont think) (this is subject to change)

What is your OC’s ‘‘darkness moment’’ in the plot? 

SHE HAS A LOT OF THOSE 😭 FROM THE MOMENT SHE CALLED THE COPS ON HER BEST FRIEND WHO ENCOURAGED HER TO DO IT TO THE REALLY BAD TREATMENT JN THE HOSPITALS 

What is your OC’s redemption moment?

I think a huge redemption moment for her was adopting/meeting DAISUKE, that’s when most of her most of her bad habits started to break like smoking 

Is there a canon character that your OC needs to ask forgiveness towards? 

No I don’t think so, I don’t think there’s any moments where she has hurt someone who didn’t deserve it

Is there a canon character your OC needs to forgive?

I think JACK owes HYO a huge apology 😭 she doesn’t NEED to forgive him but he still owes her a big ass apology for being an asshole and pushing her boundaries

Is there anyone who your OC would die for?

HYO would die for DAISUKE and/or her brothers. She feels very protective over them 🫡 

Is there a canon character who would die for your OC?

UMMM. I have no idea tbhsies 😰😰😰

[devil-doll13]

Sword and Sorcery

(Finale)

Tw: none I can think of, just sappy romance.

(Abigail belongs to me, Clay belongs to @rottent33th <3)

First Part

Second Part

Third Part

Thankyou for everyone who has been reading this! Here is the final part, I hope it’s a satisfying conclusion.

Dividers by firefly-graphics

“Ser Clayton Spencer, We thank you for your service to your country and to the crown. For years you have protected this kingdom from not only tyrant beasts but all manner of ignoble bandit, crook and thief…”

A week later Clay kneeled before the throne in duty-bound servitude, his hands folded over the gold encrusted hilt of his ceremonial sword.

The elder King was aged far beyond the years expected for his reign, (for the only heir to the throne was his grandson, a wayward prince…) and he addressed Clay with a dry monotone. He drawled out further routine commendations before dismissing the room with a tired wave.

Clay spent no more time than was necessary in the King’s stuffy courtroom, the decorum that was demanded there was a tiring charade. Besides, he didn’t much feel like socialising among the nobles. He was still a lowly country bumpkin in their eyes, no matter what he accomplished. Their approval mattered little to the Knight, of course; it was his own desire to protect the people that kept him fighting still.

After finding a quieter place outside, he breathed in the fresh air of the castle courtyard with a stretch. It was Spring, and so nature was lively and verdant. The buzz of a passing bumblebee caught his attention, and he looked to see several hovering closeby.

He took some time to admire the scenery. Winding ivy climbed up the stone walls like a thick green waterfall, hiding behind a briary curtain of blood red roses. They were not meticulously arranged by the castle servants like most of the gardens here were, but instead they grew wild and untamed. Their sharp, prickly thorns still glistened dangerously in the light, rain from the morning sunshower leaving drooping dewdrops behind.

Watching idly as the bees went nuts over this absolute treasure trove of pollen, Clay felt his mind wandering to a familiar place.

Truthfully, over the past week he’d often thought about the little witch who lived in Webwood. He had not told anyone of her existence, or of her aid in his quest. He was far less quick to pass judgements on others, compared to many of the misguided zealots in the city who thought anyone outside the norm was evil. Clay had thought it best she remained unknown to everyone in the capital, for her own safety. Still, he felt she deserved some credit for his victory. For her advice, and for her strange potion that had saved him the time he would have spent lying injured in bed otherwise.

… It wouldn’t be remiss to say he’d developed something of a crush on the Witch, as well. Clay still felt his cheeks warm remembering her pretty eyes and soft voice. He looked at the wild roses again and couldn’t help but be reminded of her, in some way.

Clay reached out to brush the petals with his unarmoured fingers. He felt nervous about the idea of going back simply to talk, so a gift would help a little, right?

Unsheathing a small knife he kept by his side, he plucked one favoured flower and cut it by the stem.

Abigail scrawled down a hasty note with her quill, her fingers stained with ink. A heavy black grimoire rested in her lap, and her own manuscript lay spread on her desk.

This morning’s stroll had breathed some cold, misty air into her lungs, and she hurried back to her cottage for warmth and food. It had been then when she’d had a breakthrough in her research. Observing the spirits at their resting places earlier that day, she’d been reminded of a certain magical rule that their odd behaviours violated. She had spent the whole afternoon developing further theories, throwing herself into her studies with an intense fervour.

Abigail stirred in her chair, feeling hunger gnawing at her stomach again. She bit her lip, unwilling to part from her books even for a moment. Often she did this, so enraptured by the world’s arcane mysteries that she ignored her own body’s needs.

Her eyes flickered from the page to her bedroom window. Golden rays of sunlight streamed through her half-drawn curtains, reminding her of the time. A soft meow, too, demanded her attention. She looked down to see Grimm sat by her legs, tail twitching. He stared up at her expectantly, seeming peeved at having his napping spot on her lap invaded by her studies.

“…Just five more pages, okay?” She assured softly, as much to herself as to him.

Then she heard it. A knock on the door. Two knocks.

Abigail froze mid-page turn. She dog-eared her place and slowly placed the book down on the desk, listening for further disturbances. There were none.

Anxiety immediately wormed itself into her mind. Was it her Knight? Of course, who else could it be? She blushed in remembrance. After the (admittedly pleasant) disturbance of the last week, she had resolved to forget him entirely. Had he actually returned to see her again? Why?

Of course, the other possibility made itself present in her mind. But… If it was another witch hunter, they probably wouldn’t bother to knock first.

And so she dispelled that notion, and rising quickly rom her chair she called out to him:

“Coming…!” Abigail winced at her own shrill voice. Hurrying out of her bedroom and into the cramped foyer, she nervously smoothed down her hair and dress, heart doing flips in her chest.

It took a few second’s worth of mental preparation before she actually turned the knob and opened the door, trying her best to appear calm and nonchalant.

And there the Knight stood, towering over her clad in shining steel plate and chainmail (had it been cleaned recently?). His freckled cheeks aflame, the warmth of the afternoon sun only seemed to add further vibrancy to the soft orange of his hair. His hazel eyes lit up in surprise as the door flew open, more powerfully than she’d intended.

A bevy of emotions flooded her system when she saw him. Relief that he was alive and well, shock still that he ever returned. Embarrassment as her own rosy cheeks betrayed her, without the cover of her hat she felt quite defenceless.

“I…”

He opens his mouth, makes a sound, and then closes it again. His cheeks flare hot red. She momentarily feels comforted by the fact he seems to have as much difficulty speaking as she does. He has one hand held behind his back, under his cloak.

“Hello…” He greets.

“…Hello.” Abigail echoes.

With the layers of epic theatre peeled back, the fairytale was gone. They had played their roles well and now existed as simply themselves.

That was an intimidating thought. Another moment and he fiddles with his cape. He wavers, as if trying to make a decision. Then he seems to make it, slowly drawing out his hand to reveal a bright red rose.

It’s beautiful, she thinks immediately.

“I got this for you.” He says softly, studying her face. “As a gift. To thank you for, uh… Your help”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had she fallen asleep at her desk? Abigail suddenly wanted to pinch herself, but refrained.

Another awkward moment passes without a word, but she carefully takes it from his outstretched hand. She’s careful not to brush her fingers against his.

“Thank… Thankyou.” She finally stutters out. He exhales audibly.

Her eyes shift rapidly from the flower to his flushed face, almost paralysed in this situation. She must seem to be suspicious, but in reality she’s in awe. She’s never been in this sort of situation before. Years of isolation have eroded her ability to react properly to these things.

“I enjoy to brew potions as a hobby, so it was really no bother…” The words spill out. It’s the most she’s ever said. He stares at her with an expression she can’t place. Abigail looks back down at the rose to hide her shy reaction.

The petals are extraordinarily red. She admires it quietly. It certainly could not have grown in Webwood; home only to poisonous herbs and toxic fungi. She held it gently by the stem, careful not to prick her fingers on the sharp thorns.

“I…” The Knight began again, rubbing his neck. A nervous habit. “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous to ask, but,” and looking her directly in the eyes now, “could I know your name?”

“Abigail,” she breathed. “My name is Abigail.” The name felt so old and neglected now, she’d so rarely heard it uttered by another.

“Abigail...” He repeated, a shy smile playing on his lips.

Abigail gulps, feeling a desire to ask him his name as well. She feels giddy, this all still feels like a dream.

“Co- Could I know yours?” She wonders if she sounds like the noble ladies of the court, or like a fool.

“It’s Clay…” He bows his head in makeshift salute.

Clay. That’s a nice name, she thinks.

They’re close now. Very close.

A surge of boldness accompanies her glee. She slips her fingers into Clay’s, and his eyes widen in surprise.

For a second she wonders if she’s gone too far, but he envelopes her smaller hand in his own with a light squeeze. It is as warm as it was on that day, and just as gentle.

Now she knows her impossible feelings are returned, reality smashes into her like a tidal wave. But it is a joyful one, not sobering.

Then all of a sudden his stomach growls, comically. She can’t hide her surprise as he freezes in embarrassment. Neither of them expected that, too caught up in themselves.

“Do you want something to eat, Clay…?” She asked him softly, thinking of her own hunger pangs now.

He scratched the back of his neck with a furrowed brow. “I don’t want to intrude…”

“Oh it isn’t, It wouldn’t be an intrusion.” She reassured him. But really, she wanted to keep on talking to him. It was a thought that both excited and frightened her all at once.

And she could make them both pie; her favourite kind.

He smiled again, just a little. “Okay.” He nodded. Abigail feels herself smile happily back, in a way she hasn’t in a long time.

She led him by the hand into her home, and the door closed shut behind them, leaving only the birds to sing sweetly outside.

The End

(Taglist: @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary)

Thanks for sticking through to the end! This ending chapter is a bit messy and weird sksodndldm Thanks to t33th for all the great ideas!

[carelesswispe]

heya! can I request how Dimitri, Edelgard, Claude, and Yuri would court their crush? headcannons and fluff please :") also if there a character limit? (if you can't do Yuri, please replace him with Ashe) ty in advance </3

- 🍙

thank you for requesting! i had a lot of fun writing this ask and sorry if this took a little longer than expected ;; nevertheless, i hope you enjoyed this, jelly filled donut anon!

>genre: fluff with some angst if you squint (mostly for dimitri and edelgard's part)

>warnings: slight mentions of fighting, slight spoilers for the events of fire emblem three houses, some angst

>pairings: dimitri x reader (gn), edelgard x reader (gn), claude x reader (gn), yuri x reader (gn)

Dimitri

Hh he's the loml

I feel like he would only start to court anyone after the five-year timeskip due to the guilt of the tragedy Duscur and the pent up emotions he’s kept bottled up. The fact that he hasn’t overcome his trauma would probably give him the need to distance himself from the one he has feelings with <\\3

Of course, no one’s able to resist the pull of love and despite his irrational thoughts that tell him to distance himself from you, the thoughts that tell him to stay with you were stronger, the feeling that you give him was like a breath of fresh air in the suffocating miasma of his guilt and trauma which gave him the strength to carry on.

But once the war is finally over and he’s sorted out his feelings for you, the first thing he would do is to see you; to finally let you know how he feels...and maybe even propose you to stay by his side forever--

As for courting you, after so many years of killing and brutal murder, I think that Dimitri would be quite awkward in expressing his feelings for you, after having bottled them up for so long.

He would get flustered easily from the little things you do or say to him but still deliver the smoothest compliments as if it was second nature. Just like he always has in the academy, if not, smoother.

If you were to bring this up to him, he would try to deny it with a flushed face, causing him to be hyper-aware of the little things that he used to say with a nonchalant attitude from then on...how adorable

Dimitri is probably not the most romantic man with having basically no experience with relationships and all and would resort to consulting, albeit after much pestering, Sylvain for relationship advice.

It was quite cute though, seeing this grown man trying to be romantic but failing, looking like a teen with his first crush. Although, that may not be far from the truth.

Of course, after failing to pull off any of the ridiculous date ideas Sylvain proposed to him for the umpteenth time, Dimitri decided to do things his own way, even if it meant stumbling around like a newborn deer.

Dimitri’s idea of a romantic date is probably a bit odd...after all, this is coming from the same man who thought that a dagger is a great parting gift. He would take you to shop around for things you might like, wanting to show you that he would grant you anything you desired. And...while he’s at it, he might buy you a weapon of your liking--

After shopping, he’d treat you to a meal while you’re at it. Although he may not care for the flavours of food, seeing you eat your favorite foods with a delighted expression is enough to make the food that much more appetizing.

Being a king, Dimitri would most likely be very busy, filling up paperwork and all and so going out often isn’t something he could afford to do. In order to make up for that, the free time that he does get is all spent with you. Even for a little while, being with you does take away some of the stress that comes with the amount of responsibility on his shoulders.

Whether it be sharing a cup of tea or simply enjoying yourselves in each other’s company, Dimitri is satisfied to spend any time with you

Edelgard

Similar to Dimitri, I feel like Edelgard wouldn’t want to think about feelings of love so soon as long as she hasn’t fulfilled her mission since she wouldn’t want to let her emotions to obstruct her conquest at all, as baseless as those worries might be

However, this doesn’t mean that she would be able to control these feelings of hers with perfect success. After all, try as she might, she’s still a human

Even though she can deny her feelings for you, she can’t deny the comfort your company gives her

Having tea together or even just spending any amount of time with you gives her the break she needs from her burdens she’s imposed upon herself and in times like these, it reminds her of the people she wants to be stronger to protect

Conversations with her mostly consist of her plans and motivations for her cause but outside of that, she also enjoys being able to indulge herself in some much needed rest and she feels like she could share anything with you.

Well, perhaps not her family history but she finds herself revealing the sides that she hid from the public.

Occasionally, she would vent out her feelings of frustration to you, perhaps impersonating and imitating the words of the person who had irritated her

Even if it’s for a little while, she finds herself being able to act like a child or to let loose without fear of being judged around you and it reminds her that she’s not alone in this conquest of hers. And that fact alone comforts her. If you’re by her side, even the rockiest of roads seem like a cake walk as long as you’re here for her.

After the war, she would subtly propose a future with the two of you where you and her could pave the way for the new future of the empire. And when you don’t get what she’s hinting at, she would just throw whatever inhibitions she had out of the window and just tell you in a more direct fashion

Although she fears rejection, she’d rather say out her feelings than to keep it trapped for any longer.

As the emperor, Edelgard is very busy. Despite this, for some reason, she finds herself sneaking away from Hubert’s unrelenting supervision from time to time just to spend time with you.

She finds herself giving the pettiest excuses to go on a date with you whenever her tight schedule has even the tiniest opening.

To her, spending time with you reminds her that she is not only Edelgard Von Hresvelg, the Emperor but El.

However, on occasions where she is unable to slip away from her aide’s watchful eye or whenever she has to go on a trip where she will be away from you for long periods of time, as soon as she is freed from her duties, she will immediately come see you, hopefully plan a vacation together away from all her responsibilities, even for a little while.

Speaking of vacations, this will be a regular occurrence between the two of you. Such vacations range from going out of the empire for some sightseeing to a simple staycation, relishing in each other’s company.

Claude

Unlike the previous two, I feel like Claude, although not necessarily looking for a relationship before the timeskip, he wouldn’t be too opposed to the idea if he falls in love.

But maybe if it's before the timeskip, the relationship between the two of you would be more casual than anything, just enjoying the moment rather than looking into the future. Of course, he would like to spend the rest of his days with you but it's more of a matter of whether that could be possible or not due to the uncertainty of the future.

Dates before the timeskip would consist of fun little lunch dates in the cafeteria, hanging out to the library afterwards.

Most of your dates together were spontaneous, Claude being the one to initiate it first.

Like you two could be chilling, minding your own business, being content in each others’ presence one minute and pranking the entirety of the monastery in another.

Every time the two of you got together, everyone started to go on full alert mode, fully expecting an explosion somewhere or something along the lines of that. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time…

After the timeskip, dates with him don’t really change much...on the surface. In reality, Claude puts more effort into each date, not that he hadn’t before.

It’s just that now, the more time he spends with you, the more certain he is that he wants you to stay by his side, forever.

These dates were comparatively tame as compared to before the timeskip, with him being more mature and responsible now, not wanting to take unnecessary risks now that he’s seen many of his followers come and go, he wouldn’t want you to be like them.

Expect calm candlelit dinners for most of the dates since he tries to reserve the evening for you, maybe going on a stroll around the kingdom, checking up on the state of his citizens with you.

Right, speaking of dinners, during dinner, he would tell the most interesting stories of times when he left the kingdom for important matters and you weren’t able to come along, often bringing home a trinket of sorts which reminded him of you.

I feel like on these trips, he would just pick up random stuff that caught his eye and thought you’d might like, looking forward to seeing your expression upon receiving his gift to you. He gets a little too excited sometimes and goes...overboard, buying WAY too much. On the bright side, now that you got him all fired up, he’ll do his best to rush home to you.

As much as possible, he invites you to go with him to the many many festivals in the kingdom just so that you wouldn’t get bored with just eating out with him. (not that you ever would) and plus, he enjoys seeing the different stalls and booths set up with you.

Yuri

Yuri is quite hard to get close to since he’s the leader of the underworld and all. And even if you do, he puts up a ridiculously high wall when he feels as if you take an interest in him in something other than a friend.

All these years of distrust had given him no choice but to surround himself with various walls. And should you try to break down these walls, he would panic and distance himself from you, anything to make you realise that he shouldn’t be the one to receive your affection. Classic romance novel moment

Of course, you persist and stay there for him anyway, maybe only just pushing it but not to the point where it gets uncomfortable for him. After the years, going through tough situations with you by his side especially when he needed it the most, without realising it, he had a spot for you on his previously cold heart. Maybe it had always been there, maybe not, he didn’t really know anymore.

When you two finally go out together, it comes out as something that was going to happen anyway to the other members of the Ashen Rats Wolves who, don’t even bother to act surprised, come on, even Constance saw it coming, Yuri, you didn’t fool anybody.

Dates with Yuri are always new and exciting, going out on undercover missions together, travelling across Fódlan. Yuri tries to discourage you from coming along because of the danger of each one of his missions but the more he refuses, the more you insist so after a while, he gets the hint that he won’t be able to stop you and eventually just invites you whenever he has to go on long missions without having you finding out about it on your own.

As much as he cares about each and every single one of his subjects in the underworld, being the lord of the underground isn’t exactly the most relaxing or safest job out there and sometimes he just needs a break from all that. Luckily, you’re there to give him some peace of mind. Just by having you by his side, he feels as if he’s transported into another world, a reverie away from all the dangers of his job. Even a protector needs someone to protect him, you know? And he trusts you. He trusts that you would always be there to protect him. Since you were there for him through thick and thin all this time.

You both got each other’s backs

(i wrote WAY too much for Yuri since man i had a wild Yuri phase and i still do and i am just RELIVING IT as i write this)

[lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall]

The Odd Rumble of Thunder - Thor x Reader

(A/N)

Hey guys! I wanted to personally thank you all for the kind comments and messages, they really inspire me to continue writing more and the support truly means a lot! Also, I just found out how to access post replies, I apologize I haven’t gotten to reading them since my first story, I’m still trying to figure out the gist of things here on Tumblr! Anyways, recently I’d only been posting more on Poseidon, so here’s a special one for our Norse god of thunder (aka the god I simp for the most). This idea came to me while out on a camping trip, I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback would really be welcomed and appreciated!

This is for entertainment only. Record of Ragnarok belongs to Shinya Umemura, Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

The Odd Rumble of Thunder

Thor x Reader

Even before the news spread like wildfire, Thor had become under the tyranny of a good habit to bringing his wife with him wherever he may go. It stood to reason that he would never be so careless to invite you over to danger, hence why, at a god’s ephemeral notice, he had stopped seeking direction for his combative side, but when, at last, he had to venture, he made much quicker work of it than when he would have otherwise.

Inarguably, if you’d wanted to lay down and rest instead, it was a surety you’d receive your meals in bed, unbothered. But for Thor there was no guarantee he’d ever have to worry about you, so the whole of Asgard knew by now he’d drop whatever he was doing to accompany you, uncaring about diplomacy in the first place.

Not that Odin nor Loki minded either; especially since the Allfather knew more about the concerns of a father expecting their first child. Moreover, Loki enjoyed shapeshifting into his cousin during days he was absent. It was much more fun to cause mischief legally, as he would say.

Today, Thor stood by his wife who sat comfortably in her rocking chair on the porch, allowing a full view of the hills that sloped gently down to the grand gardens. You were seven months along, approaching the eight month, the swell of your stomach now far more prominent.

At the very moment you had begun to show, you had a companion of whom would almost never leave your side, your husband’s absence in the kingdom gradually becoming more frequent, more lengthened, till at last his presence among his people became an exception. Despite your constant reassurances that you would be fine, Thor insisted on staying, casually sweeping aside your thoughts regarding his habitual sense of duty.

“I would only be gone for nine months to tend to my wife and child, they should fare well on their own lest they are more incompetent than I would’ve thought.” Thor had told you once before, and you’d decided not to question him further on that. You understood your husband’s concerns, to be truthful, you had a few of your own as well, so having Thor assist you alleviated some of the stress and worry concerning your child’s safety.

Especially now that you were nearing your due date. For instance, you were having the toughest time moving, suffering primarily from the weight in your belly and pains in your back and legs that made walking and even standing difficult. What made the physical strain worse too was your child’s eagerness to know you and Thor both, unable to stay long in one position, much like their father’s enthusiasm for battle.

“How are you feeling?” Thor’s question rested upon a rather precise calculation of the last time he had asked the same only a short moment before. It was quite visible in his actions that he did not want to cause any negative feelings if he could help it, though desiring you to avoid stress as much as possible.

You smiled. “Come close. You’ve been standing there for ages just ogling at me.” You opened your arms out wide. “Are you not tired?”

Truth be told, despite Thor’s constant need to remain close to his wife, he felt a real, undeniable fear of touching you, specifically, your abdomen. He closed the distance between until he was right in front of you, staring down at you with hard eyes. Longing leaped like a flame reaching out in his celestial yellow orbs.

“Love, I am always grateful for your concern for me. And I am feeling much better just knowing you’re beside me.” You raised yourself up, pushing against the chair to try to stand. Thor rushed forward, held you then put his hands under your arms to lift you up. Your child was growing fast. “But how about you? How are you feeling?”

You inched closer, your fingers playing with the locks of his hair that you could reach. “Aside from the stress of waiting, I’ve noticed that you have something else weighing on your mind.

“Tell me, what is it?”

At the sight of you through his warworn eyes, his mind was filled with bliss. For that loving glance of yours, he felt a divine presence and holy atmosphere that seemed to pervade everything around you. Having an inkling of what you were hinting at though, he broke your gaze, in an attempt to avert the guilt you conferred on him.

“Please. We’re in this together, I would want nothing more than to help you back as much as you’ve helped me.” Thor felt you shift in his arms, get more comfortable. He felt the bulk of your child across his legs, the weight no doubt pulling you down. Seeing you in pain like that, was sad and unbearable, and the gnawing feeling grew stronger. And since he knew you were always so full of strength and determination, always unrelenting in your attempts to make him feel better, he began,

“I am afraid.” Red eyebrows drew together.

“Afraid of what?”

“That I might accidentally hurt you and our child,” Thor took a deep breath in then let it out in a sigh while taking a step back. “I do not want that to happen, even if I want to be at your side at all times. And this frustrates me to no end.”

Thor did himself a favor by giving attention to anything other than his wife, refusing to be a witness on the sadness and any he may have caused. Dealing with his own disappointment was nothing new, but he had trouble dealing with the fact that he was the cause of yourpain. He wished he could take his troubles which escaped, hanging in the air, and all the bad feelings on himself and let things continue as they were, but he knew it didn’t work that way. You needed to know that he only wanted you and your child safe and protected, even from himself.

He could not understand how the cosmos could play such a cruel joke on the both of you: you, bore so much pain because of one of the greatest affairs of life, and him, the strongest deity in the Pantheon, was powerless against the natural laws of existence.

Strong shoulders slumped, head bowing as stray strands of red hair fell over Thor’s brow. Not again. He did not wish to be reminded of the cautious sympathy his father and cousin had approached him with. His stomach lurched whenever the subject of your frailty came up. Dread and a terrifying fear overwhelmed his soul for the first time, the thought of losing you−

“Hey,” Your voice which lingered on the gentle breeze brushed against Thor’s face, pulling him out of his stupor. He refocused, turning his gaze onto your sweet face.

How were you able to hold yourself up well despite your obvious pain and suffering? Did you not bear the same nervousness as he did? The answer was obvious, practically screaming in Thor’s ears but became deaf following his guilt and clouded instincts. For a long time since you’d first told him about the news, he bore these worries in silence; but when at length he’d been perplexed by your introspection−or seeming lack of it. Why, in fact, did you concern yourself with him at all? Compared to you, there was hardly any threat to his own life posed. Why had you always done more to make him feel better when you were the one who needed it most?

Cutting through the haze he found himself in was the shape of you, or maybe your hair billowing in the wind, a wisp of it across your face, and then suddenly the feel of your skin, the sense of your head on his chest. Even if it were fleeting, that alone brought him the possibilities of comfort that he’d so needed. Oh, how he missed this; you cupped his big callously marble hands around yours, caressing them so tenderly, as if he were fragile and might break, so short it could never be pulled back.

As he relished the warmth of the blaze you gave him for the winter of unease, he’d realized much sooner that the coldness that inched its icy fingers up his spine still threatened to battle your kind words, you, his very own wife, and he detested himself for being unsure whether or not it was of his own doing; was he pushing you away when you’d only wanted to offer your help?

Thor’s immediate impulse was to pull back from you, abruptly halted by your fingers which slipped between his now splayed hand. You wrinkled your nose in a delightfully unguarded manner that caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Do you remember the first time we said our vows?” If only you knew the way Thor perceived you: in his eyes, your radiant smile reflected the morning sunlight of Valhalla, for a split second picturing the moment you’d walked down the aisle, that headpiece on your head instantiating the paradox of mystery that once lifted revealed your beautiful face, marking it the best day of his long life. Something warm bloomed in his chest once again and spread its heat out through every vein in his body. He remembered the smooth feel of the veil against his cheek after sealing your promise with a kiss, his lips parting with a breathless sigh.

“Your hands caressed my fit of nerves with light, tender touches and then inspired me with hard, passionate embraces,” With effortless ease, you lifted your intertwined hands to your mouth and kissed his knuckle. Thor watched with great admiration your every move, the desire to distance himself was now but an afterthought. Nothing would ever separate him from you when all you’d ever done was pull him closer than ever.

Then, you sought out his hand, kissing his palm as he stroked your face. You clung onto his arms, gripped at his chest as if you were searching for warmth, as if you needed his touch, and much like him, couldn’t bear to be even an inch away. His mind was still slowing its racing to let him mutter something in response, so he allowed himself to be entranced by how smooth and sure of yourself you were, with nothing to mar the calm serenity of your features. Your smile seemed to be a natural adornment, the utter gentleness in your eyes, reminded him of every morning when he woke up, he would see you by his side, as well as your sleeping snoring face. Right at that moment, the silly scream finally made it to the deaf god’s ears:

He was your haven,

The place you called home and went to find peace.

As Thor immersed himself in your smell, your sparkling eyes, he felt the excruciating cold all melt away in your warmth. No more seeds of doubt with which to sow and seek his destiny. Slowly, he began to see his surroundings from a keener point of view, realizing, then appraising them: from the passing wind your hair messed which he pushed aside, tucking it behind your ear, to how his sash seemed to fit him better indeed, rather than cling onto his skin even tighter as brutally as it had done before. He noticed the minute changes since he’d last taken a good look at you months ago: a little flusher on your skin, lines around the eyes a little deeper, a little increase in body temperature.

He pulled you closer, his actions not arising from calculation instead led by instinct. You let him take more of your weight, your belly pressed against his stomach as you sighed, his fingers working wonders on massaging the muscles that had been much abused in carrying the baby’s weight. A sudden wrenching through his sash struck Thor’s heart and had him holding his breath.

The baby had moved, and he’d felt it.

Bending down, he buried his nose in your hair, closing his eyes as he drank in your scent. Your arms wrapped around his back as he connected in this loving embrace, feeling his heart beat in rhythm with your own.

“Our child would no doubt love to be enveloped in their father’s safe arms,” With a light, gentle touch, your fingers ran through Thor’s hair, making him shiver with delight.

On that day, only the beautiful gardens of Asgard became privy to nothing more than a moment in which husband and wife reached for the same comfort and their concerns met. These gardens were simultaneously the very same place where Thor had first avoided the problems that plagued his mind, but also became exactly the same place where he’d find solace in the arms of his lovely wife.

Resting his hand on where his child was, he recognized that familiar feeling turning up, but upon realizing the bittersweet irony of and within these gardens, the revelation came to him: happiness could also come from the very object of fear.

And as you had an unmovable trust in him, there was an unspoken mutual understanding that he too, should put his trust in you.

[be-gay-do-heists]

hello yall :) the holy month of elul started last night, which is typically a time for contemplation, so since it is impossible for me to stop thinking about leverage, i decided to write an essay. hope anyone interested in reading it enjoys, and that it makes at least a little sense!! spoilers for leverage redemption

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Leverage, Judaism, and “Doing the Work”: An Essay for Elul

When it comes to Elul and the approaching High Holidays, Leverage might seem like an odd topic to meditate on.

The TNT crime drama that ran from 2008-2012, and which released a new season this summer following its renewal, centers on a group of found-family thieves who help the victims of corporations and oligarchs (sometimes based on real-world examples), using wacky heists and cons to bring down the rich and powerful. In one episode, the team’s clients want to reclaim their father’s prized Glimt piece that had been stolen in the Shoah and never returned, but aside from this and the throwaway lines and jokes standard for most mainstream television, there’s not a ton textually Jewish about Leverage. However, despite this, I have found that the show has strong resonance among Jewish fans, and lots of potential for analysis along Jewish themes. This tends to focus on one character in particular: the group’s brilliant, pop culture-savvy, and personable hacker, Alec Hardison, played by the phenomenally talented Aldis Hodge.

I can’t remember when or where I first encountered a reading of Hardison as Jewish, but not only is this a somewhat popular interpretation, it doesn’t feel like that much of a leap. In the show itself, Hardison has a couple of the aforementioned throwaway lines that potentially point to him being Jewish, even if they’re only in service of that moment’s grift. It’s hard to point to what exactly makes reading Hardison as Jewish feel so natural. My first guess is the easy way Hardison fits into the traditional paradigms of Jewish masculinity explored by scholars such as Daniel Boyarin (2). Most of the time, the hacker is not portrayed as athletic or physical; he is usually the foil to the team’s more physically-adept characters like fighter Eliot, or thief Parker. Indeed, Hardison’s strength is mental, expressed not only through his computer wizardry but his passions for science, technology, music, popular media, as well as his studious research into whatever scenario the group might come up against. In spite of his self-identification as a “geek,” Hardison is nevertheless confident, emotionally sensitive, and secure in his masculinity. I would argue he is representative of the traditional Jewish masculine ideal, originating in the rabbinic period and solidified in medieval Europe, of the dedicated and thoughtful scholar (3). Another reason for popular readings of Hardison as Jewish may be the desire for more representation of Jews of color. Although mainstream American Jewish institutions are beginning to recognize the incredible diversity of Jews in the United States (4), and popular figures such as Tiffany Haddish are amplifying the experiences of non-white Jews, it is still difficult to find Jews of color represented in popular media. For those eager to see this kind of representation, then, interpreting Hardison, a black man who places himself tangential to Jewishness, in this way is a tempting avenue.

Regardless, all of the above remains fan interpretation, and there was little in the text of the show that seriously tied Judaism into Hardison’s identity. At least, until we got this beautiful speech from Hardison in the very first episode of the renewed show, directed at the character of Harry Wilson, a former corporate lawyer looking to atone for the injustice he was partner to throughout his career:

“In the Jewish faith, repentance, redemption, is a process. You can’t make restitution and then promise to change. You have to change first. Do the work, Harry. Then and only then can you begin to ask for forgiveness. [...] So this… this isn’t the win. It’s the start, Harry.”

I was floored to hear this speech, and thrilled that it explained the reboot’s title, Leverage: Redemption. Although not mentioned by its Hebrew name, teshuvah forms the whole basis for the new season. Teshuvah is the concept of repentance or atonement for the sins one has committed. Stemming from the root shuv/shuva, it carries the literal sense of “return.” In a spiritual context, this usually means a return to G-d, of finding one’s way back to holiness and by extension good favor in the eyes of the Divine. But equally important is restoring one’s relationships with fellow humans by repairing any hurt one has caused over the past year. This is of special significance in the holy month of Elul, leading into Rosh haShanah, the Yamim Noraim, and Yom Kippur, but one can undertake a journey of redemption at any point in time. That teshuvah is a journey is a vital message for Harry to hear; one job, one reparative act isn’t enough to overturn years of being on the wrong side of justice, to his chagrin. As the season progresses, we get to watch his path of teshuvah unfold, with all its frustrations and consequences. Harry grows into his role as a fixer, not only someone who can find jobs and marks for the team, but fixes what he has broken or harmed.

So why was Hardison the one to make this speech?

I do maintain that it does provide a stronger textual basis for reading Hardison as Jewish by implication (though the brief on-screen explanation for why he knows about teshuvah, that his foster-parent Nana raised a multi-faith household, is important in its own merit, and meshes well with his character traits of empathy and understanding for diverse experiences). However, beyond this, Hardison isn’t exactly an archetypical model for teshuvah. In the original series, he was the youngest character of the main ensemble, a hacking prodigy in the start of his adult career, with few mistakes or slights against others under his belt. In one flashback we see that his possibly first crime was stealing from the Bank of Iceland to pay off his Nana’s medical bills, and that his other early hacking exploits were in the service of fulfilling personal desires, with only those who could afford to pay the bill as targets. Indeed, in the middle of his speech, Hardison points to Eliot, the character with the most violent and gritty past who views his work with the Leverage team as atonement, for a prime example of ongoing teshuvah. So while no one is perfect and everyone has a reason for doing teshuvah, this question of why Hardison is the one to give this series-defining speech inspired me to look at his character choices and behavior, and see how they resonate with a different but interrelated Jewish principle, that of tikkun olam. 

Tikkun olam is literally translated as “repairing the world,” and can take many different forms, such as protecting the rights of vulnerable people in society, or giving tzedakah (5). In modern times, tikkun olam is often the rallying cry for Jewish social activists, particularly among environmentalists for whom literally restoring the health of the natural world is the key goal. Teshuvah and tikkun olam are intertwined (the former is the latter performed at an interpersonal level) and both hold a sense of fixing or repairing, but tikkun olam really revolves around a person feeling called to address an injustice that they may have not had a personal hand in creating. Hardison’s sense of a universal scale of justice which he has the power to help right on a global level and his newfound drive to do humanitarian work, picked up sometime after the end of the original series, make tikkun olam a central value for his character. This is why we get this nice bit of dialogue from Eliot to Hardison in the second episode of the reboot, when the latter’s outside efforts to organize international aid start distracting him from his work with the team: “Is [humanitarian work] a side gig? In our line of work, you’re one of the best. But in that line of work… you’re the only one, man.” The character who most exemplifies teshuvah reminds Hardison of his amazing ability to effect change for the better on a huge stage, to do some effective tikkun olam. It’s this acknowledgement of where Hardison can do the most good that prompts the character’s absence for the remainder of the episodes released thus far, turning his side gig into his main gig.

With this in mind, it will be interesting to see where Hardison’s arc for this season goes. Separated from the rest of the team, the hacker still has remarkable power to change the world, because it is, after all, the “age of the geek.” However, he is still one person. For all that both teshuvah and tikkun olam are individual responsibilities and require individual decision-making and effort, the latter especially relies on collective work to actually make things happen. Hardison leaving is better than trying to do humanitarian work and Leverage at the same time, but there’s only so long he can be the “only one” in the field before burning out. I’m reminded of one of the most famous (for good reason) maxims in Judaism:

It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you free to neglect it. (6)

Elul is traditionally a time for introspection and heeding the calls to repentance. After a year where it’s never been easier to feel powerless and drained by everything going on around us, I think it’s worth taking the time to examine what kind of work we are capable of in our own lives. Maybe it’s fixing the very recent and tangible hurts we’ve left behind, like Harry. Maybe it’s the little changes for the better that we make every day, motivated by our sense of responsibility, like Eliot. And maybe it’s the grueling challenge of major social change, like Hardison. And if any of this work gets too much, who can we fall back on for support and healing? Determining what needs repair, working on our own scale and where our efforts are most helpful, and thereby contributing to justice in realistic ways means that we can start the new year fresh, having contemplated in holiday fashion how we can be better agents in the world.

Shana tovah u’metukah and ketivah tovah to all (7), and may the work we do in the coming year be for good!

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(1) Disclaimer: everybody’s fandom experiences are different, and this is just what I’ve picked up on in my short time watching and enjoying this show with others.

(2) See, for example, the introduction and first chapter of Boyarin’s book Unheroic Conduct: The Rise of Heterosexuality and the Invention of the Jewish Man (I especially recommend at least this portion if you are interested in queer theory and Judaic studies). There he explores the development of Jewish masculinity in direct opposition to Christian masculine standards.

(3) I might even go so far as to place Hardison well within the Jewish masculine ideal of Edelkayt, gentle and studious nobility (although I would hesitate to call him timid, another trait associated with Edelkayt). Boyarin explains that this scholarly, non-athletic model of man did not carry negative associations in the historical Jewish mindset, but was rather the height of attractiveness (Boyarin, 2, 51).

(4) Jews of color make up 20% of American Jews, according to statistics from Be’chol Lashon, and this number is projected to increase as American demographics continue to change: https://globaljews.org/about/mission/. 

(5) Tzedakah is commonly known as righteous charity. According to traditional authority Maimonides, it should be given anonymously and without embarrassment to the person in need, generous, and designed to help the recipient become self-sufficient.

(6) Rabbi Tarfon, Pirkei Avot, 2:16

(7) “A good and sweet year” and “a good inscription [in the Book of Life]”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Beautifully Spent

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

- Chapter 2 -

A/N: As a note, each of these chapters is a separate story with a different point of divergence from canon timeline.

When Lan Wangji was six years old, and Lan Xichen nine, their mother died, breaking their hearts. Even Lan Qiren, who had never liked He Kexin and might have even hated her for having ruined all his dreams of travel, felt her absence keenly – he kept thinking of her at odd times, a matter of irrepressible habit. I should tell her about this next week, he would think as he watched his nephews accomplish something, or, upon receiving an offer to go night-hunting, We can’t go because we wouldn’t be able to make it back in time for the monthly visit, and then he’d abruptly remember she was dead and there would be no more monthly visits.

One time, sitting and watching Lan Wangji carefully practice his calligraphy during the time that would normally have been their monthly visit, he even found himself inexplicably wiping tears out of his eyes. It had been a struggle, but they’d finally gotten Lan Wangji to stop going to her door, ignoring snow and chill to wait there as if simply willing it would allow the door to open again, but he remained overly quiet, even quieter than he’d been before, the loss hurting him deeply, and seeing him hurt had hurt Lan Qiren. He tried to be subtle about it, to hide his abrupt display of emotionality, but before he knew it, Lan Wangji had come over to stand by his side, his little hands holding his own, earnestly mumbling, “Don’t cry, shufu, it’ll be all right” in an echo of what Lan Qiren had been trying so ineffectually to say to him.

“Yes,” he said, wiping harder, and ultimately giving up entirely and letting the tears stream down his cheeks, hiding his face entirely behind one of his sleeves. Lan Xichen found them at some point and curled up into Lan Qiren’s other side, tears starting to slowly seep down his own face; trying to hold back their strange shared grief was like trying to stop the tide. “It will be all right, eventually. I promise.”

He had made that promise too soon, it seemed: less than a week later, one of the elders remarked that it was time for Lan Xichen to take up some of the duties of running a sect.

“What?” Lan Qiren asked, blinking. “You’re joking. He’s nine.”

“He’s the future sect leader,” the elder said, and his gaze was cold. “Never forget, Teacher Lan, that although you fill the role now, you are only a custodian in his name.”

“That’s not the point I was making,” Lan Qiren said, frustrated; he had never been very good with words or with people. “Of course he will inherit the position, given time. But he is not even old enough for his own sword, and years away from night-hunting – why would you burden him with sect business? He’s far too young.”

“He is at exactly the right age to begin. How else can we ensure that he will not fall into the failings of his father or the crimes of his mother?”

“He is a child,” Lan Qiren stressed, wondering what he was missing. “We can only teach him to the best of our abilities, and hope that he does well with it; there’s nothing else that can be done.”

The elder shook his head. “We cannot take the risk of another generation of disaster. He must be trained, and trained now, trained well. If we do not take action, it may be too late, and he will be ruined.”

As you were, he didn’t say, but Lan Qiren felt keenly the burn of humiliation. He had never lived up to their expectations the way his brother had, and then his brother had gone and failed them all, too.

“What exactly are you thinking?” he asked, trying to dismiss the feeling of foreboding in his belly. An introduction to the burdens Lan Xichen would eventually face would not be so far amiss – a shichen a week of helping to transcribe simple letters, perhaps, or running errands, the sort of thing a boy could do and not be bored; that wouldn’t be too bad.

That wasn’t what they had in mind at all.

They wanted Lan Xichen to start tackling political problems at once, forcing him to make real decisions, deal with paperwork, and then also three times the usual lessons in sword and music, all the skills he would need to have. And all this, of course, on top of his regular lessons –

“We can assist, of course,” one of the elders said to the others, ignoring Lan Qiren’s aghast expression entirely. “But the sooner he grows accustomed to the work, the sooner he can step up –”

“You’ll crush him!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, interrupting, and he never interrupted the elders. “He’s a child, and a child who just lost his mother at that – how can you even suggest this? He would have no time to study in depth rather than shallowly, no time to think, to become his own person –”

“We will polish him into a perfect jade,” an elder said. “Him, and the younger one, too. What more do they need than to be of service to the sect?”

It wasn’t that Lan Qiren disagreed that service to their sect was the highest good, or that scholarly and martial pursuits were of the highest caliber, far more important than aimless play. He was a teacher, a strict one, and the sect rules accorded with his understanding: Learning comes first. But at the same time, there was learning and then there was learning – he was a teacher who cared for his students’ well-being, too. He knew that the approach proposed would not polish Lan Xichen into a jade but mold him instead, brutally pruning away any part of him that did not accord with the elders’ wishes.

It was just what they’d done to Lan Qiren the moment he became acting sect leader, after all.

They’d loaded him up with responsibilities until he’d nearly worked himself sick, refused to grant him the slightest freedom to travel even in a small and supervised manner, and they’d tried to force him to recant even those few things he did enjoy – composing music, teaching children. If he hadn’t already been as old as he was when it started, he wouldn’t have had the strength of will or determination to preserve even those few little things of his own…

“He should move into the hanshi soon,” another elder agreed. “If we expect him to take on the responsibilities of an adult, he should be treated as one.”

“Agreed. The sooner he disengages from messing around with his peers, the better. They will only distract him from what he needs to do.”

“I do not agree with this,” Lan Qiren said. “I am his guardian and his teacher. I do not agree.”

“I’m disappointed in you, Qiren,” one of the elders said, and Lan Qiren felt an automatic wash of shame, instinctive and ingrained after all these years. “You took the sect leader position with the knowledge that it would not truly be yours, and now you wish to preserve your personal power longer?”

I never wanted the position, which offers only power in exchange for its brutal demands! I still don’t want it! But to put it onto a child, any child, much less my own nephew who I love – how could I agree to that?

“You must not be selfish, as your brother was,” another elder scolded him, and normally Lan Qiren would be the first to agree. Being like his brother was his worst fear, and one he would do anything to avoid – but at the moment, the reminder felt wrong, as if they were using it as a tool to manipulate him rather than expressing what they really thought. “Do not cling to power and authority, after all. You cannot and must not steal what belongs to your nephews, Qiren. Never forget your place.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. His place?

He had never been selfish. He had sacrificed everything – he had been filial and loyal, obedient to his elders, and they had taken everything from him, just as they planned to do to the two children that had been entrusted to his care. The only difference was that Lan Qiren had been allowed to live freely for a little while, and even that freedom was only because the elders had utterly ignored him in favor of his more talented brother, who had been protected by the love of his powerful father; for his nephews, who were all but orphaned and left only in his inferior care, there was no such defense.

This time, it was clear that the elders meant to rectify the situation – this time, they wouldn’t even leave Lan Wangji his childhood, let alone Lan Xichen.

They would hollow them out and leave them as little more than puppets, blindly obeying the rules without having the time to contemplate their meaning. They would squeeze out every moment of every day, turning each endless shichen into a joyless burden, transforming the rules into little more than a yoke to chain them – his nephews wouldn’t be Lan, who chose willingly to obey because they loved the rules and loved their sect and wanted to give everything for it. They would be little better than slaves.

Perhaps, Lan Qiren thought suddenly, it was not his selfishness that the elders were constantly seeking to correct. Perhaps it was their own.

He tried, first and foremost, to argue with them, but they did not listen to him. They had never listened to him, not from the first moment he had yielded to their wishes over his own desires and allowed himself to be trapped in the Cloud Recesses as the new sect leader. No – it was even older than that, from even before then, from as far back as when he had been small and helpless and crying out for help in his own way, not even knowing what was happening to him and why…

They had always turned their faces away.

Lan Qiren had tried his best to please them, and had failed. He’d thought the blame lay with him, but now he wasn’t so sure – now he thought that it didn’t matter what he did, that he never would.

Lan Qiren’s nephews were the ones who were small and helpless now, and unlike the elders that should have watched over him, he would not turn away.

The plan he hatched was ruthless in the extreme, but there was nothing else he could think of in his desperation. The Lan sect had always been very secretive, in its own way, keeping outsiders from knowing their personal business; although everyone within the sect knew that it was the elders who held all the real power, even if they disdained the work of it and left much of that for Lan Qiren to accomplish, from the outside it appeared as though Lan Qiren were sect leader, invested with all the powers of one.

To be a sect leader, in their day and age, was to be a tyrant.

No need to look at Wen Ruohan, the chief example of this trend, a man who made his sect kneel and touch their heads to the floor upon hearing that he was coming. It was enough to look instead at the Jiang sect, whose sect leader Jiang Fengmian whiled away his days waiting for his old lover to write, ignoring his wife despite her maternal family’s power and influence within his territory. Look at the Jin sect, where Jin Guangshan bedded every prostitute and poor young lady within range, surrounded by a cloud of rumors regarding whether he’d bothered to get all of them to consent – rumors there might be, but no one dared to make any trouble for him over it without actual proof. Look at Lao Nie, whose sect, elders and all, sighed and shook their heads over his excessive fondness for dangerous people, but could take no action to stop him.

Look at Lan Qiren’s father, who had spoiled one child into madness and neglected the other into near despair, and had trained his whole sect to accept it as a given. Lan Qiren was working to repair that damage, to lead by example, but it was a hard upward struggle – rot might start at the head, and healing, too, but the healing was harder than the rotting.

A sect leader, in short, was a tyrant.

And as far as the world was concerned, Lan Qiren was the sect leader.

Lan Qiren bided his time until the next discussion conference. It hurt him to wait, seeing poor Lan Xichen get stretched thin under his new duties and constantly reminded to keep a serene smile on his face throughout, seeing poor Lan Wangji so stressed at his brother’s misery and his own amplified lessons that he'd started biting people again, but he knew it was necessary. A discussion conference meant outsiders, and outsiders meant not losing face; it was the one time that Lan Qiren was actually treated as a sect leader by all around him, the one time no one would gainsay anything he said, even if they would later tear strips off of him in private.

It was his only chance.

"I have an announcement," he said mildly, presiding over the large gathering that marked the conclusion of the discussion conference. His Lan sect was the host of this conference, and he was accordingly seated at the head of the room, equal with the other Great Sects but given additional deference in view of the location - it was easy for his voice to carry, despite his quiet tone, and all the sects turned towards him to listen. They were probably expecting something anodyne, some additional prize or information about the weather to keep in mind as they departed. "I have decided that my Lan sect's ties to the rest of the cultivation world have grown stale, seeing each other as we do only at these times and the common people only on night hunts. As a result, in my authority as Sect Leader Lan, I intend to make a journey throughout the various sects, taking along my nephews to introduce them to your families. In my absence, the Cloud Recesses will be managed by my cousin, Lan Yueheng -"

Talk exploded in the whole audience, furious and loud, all but his own Lan sect which was calm and stone-faced as always, though of course that was only their pride and concern for face overwhelming their shock. Poor Lan Yueheng was the exception, of course, his jaw dropping open like a weight dropped from a great height until his neighbors noticed and elbowed him in the side to make him stop - Lan Qiren mentally apologized for not having warned his cousin up front. He hadn't dared to risk it. 

" - and accordingly I will be leaving alongside the rest of you at the conclusion of this conference," he concluded, for once relieved that his voice never varied far from a monotone; he sounded cool and calm and in control, and like he hadn't noticed the way his sect elders were trying to strangle him with their gaze even as the maintained decorum. "Our first destination is the Nie sect's Unclean Realm, with Lao Nie as our host."

Lan Qiren hadn't warned Lao Nie, either, but he knew him well, and to his relief hadn't misjudged him - the other man didn't spare so much as a moment to blink in surprise, instead grinning broadly at the other sect leaders.

"You bet you are," he laughed, his voice booming and loud. "And don't think I'll let you leave so quickly, Qiren - not until your nephews are best friends with my sons, and not until you've had a chance to work your magic on my sect's younger generation and turn them from little beasts into proper gentlemen!"

Lan Qiren barely resisted rolling his eyes - he still didn't know who it was that had come up with the nonsense about him being able to turn the most hopeless waste into a gentleman, but it was rank exaggeration. But to his surprise, the first person to respond was the head of one of the more distant small sects, Baling Ouyang, a young man with an excitable temperament; he leapt up to his feet and exclaimed, "Will he really? Sect Leader Lan, I insist you visit my Ouyang sect next, if you haven't made firm plans - I scarcely recognized my little hellion nephews after a season in your care, all grown up, careful in thought and action, compassionate and upright...and no more pranks!"

Another exaggeration. The Ouyang twins had been troublesome only at the start, until Lan Qiren realized that what they longed for most was recognition as separate beings rather than a collective whole; as soon as he'd treated them with respect, and showed them how to act in return, they'd taken to his lessons like a desert to water. 

"Sect Leader Lan's skill in teaching is very well known," Sect Leader Yao said, always first to speak after his friend from the Ouyang sect. "You'll really come to our sects to do it, rather than our children to the Cloud Recesses? And you won't charge, of course...?"

"Naturally no," Lan Qiren said, a little puzzled by their enthusiasm. Was it so expensive to send children to the Cloud Recesses? He’d never charged for his lessons, although he supposed there was the cost of travel and maintenance to the standard preferred by students, and of course guest gifts were customary, although he never made any demands. "I would be your guest, and enjoying your hospitality – room and board would be more than sufficient…"

"In that case, you should come to Pingyang next -"

"No, Yueyang!" someone else called, and before Lan Qiren knew exactly what was happening, the sect leaders were arguing over who he should visit first. The most enthusiastic were the ones whose children he had taught already, but the others were quick to catch up, loathe to miss out on what they perceived to be a good deal - even Wen Ruohan, never one to lose out to others when it came to something perceived of as desirable, extended an offer with a smug, snake-like smile. 

Lan Qiren provisionally accepted all the offers with a growing sense of relief: with such public acceptance, the Lan sect would lose more face by refusing to let him go than in allowing his unorthodox action. It was just as he has hoped, and more successful than he'd dared to dream; the other sects had fixated on his teaching skills and in doing so had ignored the strangeness of a sect leader taking his heirs and all but running away from home. 

That relief carried him through to the end of the meeting, when everyone divided up to pack up their things, and Lan Qiren returned to the inner parts of his sect to do the same.

"What are you thinking?" one of the elders demanded the second they were alone. "Have you gone mad?"

"Did you see the reception of my idea?" Lan Qiren replied, hiding the giddiness of relief under a facade of calm. "The sect will benefit greatly from the connections we will make."

"That's no answer!"

Lan Qiren was a filial child; even if they were wrong, he would not tell the elders so to their faces. Instead he only bowed deeply and said, "What's done is done. I need to get ready, and quickly; it would be embarrassing if we weren't prepared."

Of course, he'd already packed everything he thought he'd need, determined to take Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji with him no matter what - it was only luck that his plan had worked as well as it had, allowing him to pretend to some move of subtle strategic genius rather than a retreat out of desperation. Still, he needed to go through the motions.

"Fine," another elder spat out, although their demeanor made it clear that it wasn't fine at all. "But did you have to announce that the provisional leader was Lan Yueheng? He's completely unfit!"

By which they meant that he wouldn't listen to them - that he was brash and lacked tact, said what he thought and cared for nothing but his experiments, his wife, and his children. Out of all of Lan Qiren’s cousins, he was the most thick-faced, shameless to the extreme, essentially immune to criticism or guilt. 

That was, of course, exactly why Lan Qiren had picked him.

"He's good at math and accounting, and at arranging provisioning," Lan Qiren said, picking the more acceptable reason. "That's the key responsibility left over, isn't it? Everything else, I can do through correspondence."

The reassurance that Lan Qiren would still be doing his duty to the sect - would still be accountable to them - helped settle some ruffled feathers. It wouldn't be pleasant to try to do the work of sect leader from abroad, Lan Qiren knew; it would mean a lot of sleepless nights slaving away by candlelight, with no support from any aides, bearing all the weight himself. No doubt the elders knew it too, and figured that he'd soon enough lose interest in what he heard them calling, in hushed voices where they thought he could not hear, his "little show of rebellion".

Lan Qiren didn't care. The sooner they left, the better the chances that the elders would continue to be deceived into thinking that Lan Qiren was doing all this for his own sake - some last stab at achieving his long forgotten dreams, doomed to inevitable disappointment - instead of what it really was, which was freedom for his nephews. They couldn't be assigned work or classes from a distance; their education would be wholly in Lan Qiren’s hands.

He'd take a thousand sleepless nights of overwork if it meant they got to be children a little longer.

"Are we really going to the Unclean Realm?" Lan Wangji lisped, looking even more rosy-cheeked and excited than usual. "Will – will Nie-gongzi will be there?"

"Yes, Mingjue-xiong will be there," Lan Xichen said, and grinned at Lan Qiren over his brother’s head. He looked more carefree than he had in...possibly years, and Lan Qiren briefly regretted how long it had taken him to do this. "Since you like him so much."

Lan Wangji turned bright red at once.

"Both of the Nie boys will be there," Lan Qiren said. "The younger one is closer to your age, Wangji. You can get to know him as well."

Lan Qiren went next to the library pavilion, looking for books on their sect rules - he might not trust his sect elders, but he loved his sect, loved their rules and traditions, and he wanted his nephews to love it, too. He wanted them to see the Cloud Recesses as a refuge, as a haven - not a burden.

He would give his nephews the freedom he'd longed for, and when they were older...when they were older, more resilient, more sure of who they were, he would bring them back and he would ensure that they obtained their rightful inheritance. In full, not in part - Lan Xichen would be a real sect leader, not a puppet for the elders, taught only to be pleasant and yielding and to perform well with his cultivation, swordsmanship and music only for the purpose of impressing outsiders. Lan Wangji would be his brother’s right hand, would love and respect him and be loved and respected in turn.

Maybe, Lan Qiren thought to himself, amused, they would even find some compatible child on their way and one day return to bring them home as a dao companion.

He couldn't wait to find out.

[pastaimpact]

Since ur a catboy and maid simp 👀👀👀👀

Catboy maid headcanons for xiao, scaramouche, zhongli, kaeya and diluc?

Like, they lost a bet and have to drink a potion from albedo that turns them into catboy maid or smth pls?

-mac bulli anon

if u see me rotting, no u didnt

Xiao’s displeased by the transformation, but he has better things to do than to get worked up by a small thorn in his side. He has evil spirits to get rid off, and archons be damned if he’s going to let a pair of furry ears and a tail get in the way of his duty. It’s an odd sight, seeing him swing around his jade spear with his mask on, only to be moe-fied by his ears.

He insists on carrying out his own duties, saying that your selfish desires to have him as your maid won’t overrule his original contract to Rex Lapis. Chances are, you won’t even get him into the maid outfit before he goes running off to dispel some spirits. It can’t be helped: Xiao is someone who values Liyue’s peace before he values anything else, although he does feel a bit fuzzy inside when he sees how ecstatic you are over how cute he looks.

If he does find a moment of reprieve, that’s your best chance to capitalize on his transformation. Xiao claims that he needs no attention or extra love from you, that he’s a yaksha who works alone out of fear of harming you, but he’s still someone who craves for the gentle touch of a fellow being. Tell him that he’s done a good job and that you’re proud of him while cupping his face, and next thing you know, he’ll have slotted himself against your body and tell you that this isn’t necessary, all while his tail wags around happily. Archons forbid that anyone tries to interrupt your cuddling session, because he’ll start hissing like an actual cat the moment your attention is turned away from him.

Xiao purred against your skin, his head resting on the area in between your shoulder and neck. He was always cat-like to begin with: coy, distance, but still gentle and affectionate at the right times. You fondled his ears the way he liked them, and his tail curled up in satisfaction.

“What a pretty kittycat you are,” you cooed, your voice low and calm, like the careful trills of a lullaby. “Always working so hard... Always caring for someone other than yourself... What a good boy.”

“...Keep going,” he murmured, scooting closer to you when you stopped petting him for a second. You let a smile grace your lips as you stroked his soft fur again, enjoying the way the catboy immediately relaxed against you. 

How adorable.

Scaramouche is livid, to say the least, by this change. He’s a Fatui Harbinger, and someone who demands nothing short of utmost respect and authority from those around him. Being demoted to not only a servant, but not even a human one at that, is a stain against his spotless, untouchable command.

The entire time he’s placed under your care, he grumbles and snaps at everything that comes his way. He mutters that you should be grateful he’s even putting up with this, and he might just flat-out refuse to do the things you ask of him—until you tell him that you’ll ask someone else, like Signora or Childe. Only then does he come scrambling back to you with a pout on his face and his ears pressed against his head to scold you and say that he could do a better job than any of those sloppy Harbingers could.

He also threatens you, saying that you owe him for humiliating him like this, but he also forgets all about being mean to you the moment you start petting his ears and scratching behind them. Scaramouche swears on his life that he hates being treated like this, but the way he clings to you and purrs loudly clearly says otherwise. He’ll get huffy and frown if you stop petting him, so be prepared for him to completely monopolize your time.

“I hate you for this,” he hissed, practically bristling in your lap. You bit back a laugh, feeling the way he wrapped his arms tightly around your torso, pulling himself as close as he could to your chest. “You’re terrible.”

“It’s ‘You’re terrible, Master’ to you,” you teased, burying your fingers in his hair to tease his ears. The Harbinger opened his mouth as if to snap back at you with a haughty remark, but he immediately melted into your touch instead, giving soft mewls and twisting his head against your skin so that he could feel more of your touch.

“I-I still hate you,” he grumbled, forcing himself to frown at you and huff. He dug his nails into your clothes, settling his chin on your shoulder so that you couldn’t see the blush rising to his cheeks. “Master.”

Zhongli has seen his fair share of oddities, being an archon and all, so he’s grown to get used to whatever life throws at him all while honoring his own approach to life and any traditions he upholds. While being transformed into a cat and a maid, for that matter, is surprising, it’s probably nothing more than a mild inconvenience to a god that once held the ability to shift into a variety of different forms.

He’s a skilled and knowledgeable man, so he’s more than willing to assist you in a variety of topics. His one condition while being placed under your care is that you treat him with the same respect you would show him at any other time. While he may be relatively polite and mild-mannered, he still was a very potent and feared God of War at one point in his life. He doesn’t expect much from you; just drop any funny business around him, and he’ll entertain you for hours with his knowledge about politics, arts, and other fine subjects.

Zhongli is good about keeping his emotions in check, and even with cat ears and a tail, it’s still fairly difficult to gauge how he truly feels. Of course, his new body does betray him every now and then: a flick of his tail to signify intrigue, ears pressed against his head for annoyance, a twitch of his nose for interest. It’s best not to tease him or pry into how he feels whenever he does make an odd movement, but it wouldn’t hurt to present yourself appropriately depending on whatever mood he’s in based off of his little actions. Besides, it’s not everyday that you can see someone as respected and feared as Zhongli in a cute maid dress with his tail swishing excitedly behind him.

His entrance was quiet, and the only thing that even signaled his presence in the room was the rustle of fabric as he walked towards you. His tail was still, and his ears perked up like it had been for the day, ever since he downed the transformation potion. “I brought you tea.”

You looked up from your paperwork, smiling softly at the former archon. You pulled a stray chair close to where you were seated, inviting him to sit down as he set the teacup down in front of you. “You shouldn’t have!”

He shook his head, his ears twitching with the slightest hint of satisfaction as he sat down. “It was about time you took a break. I thought I would remind you not to push yourself too far by bringing you something to relax with. Do drink up; I brewed it myself with prized leaves.”

Kaeya’s all about staying a step ahead of the game, and the moment fluffy cat ears and a tail sprout up on his body, there’s a good chance that he’s already found loads of ways to capitalize on his features to get what he wants. The best way to get information from anyone is to get them to let their guard down, and it’s hard to be intimidated by someone who looks like a stuffed animal.

Which is exactly what he does. There’s a good chance that Kaeya’s been observing you for a while, for whatever reasons he might have (be it personal or for the Knights of Favonius), so he’ll definitely use his cat features to his advantage. He’ll snuggle up to you and let you relax by teasing you with his tail and his ears, and he’ll let his silvery tongue do the rest as he extracts bits and pieces of information from you like he was extracting honey from a beehive.

Kaeya rocks the whole maid concept better than anyone else. Flexibility and adaptability are just a few of his many strong suits, and he might even go along with playing pretend with you just out of the goodwill of his heart. He’s extorted you already for loads of intel, so the least he can do to get you to keep staying so lax around him is to humor you just a bit. It’s also a good chance to see you smiling and laughing as you bury your head into his hair, and it sure doesn’t hurt to hear you gush over how much of a majestic catboy he is.

You felt his fluffy tail slink against your arms, Kaeya splayed out across your lap with the most smug smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Awwww, your tail is so cute! I wish I could just hold it and fall asleep! It feels just like a cloud!”

“Does it now, Master?” Kaeya purred, batting his eyeslashes. It had only been about fifteen minutes since he barged into your room to show off his cat features, and he had already gotten enough info about you to entertain him for weeks. “You can pet me more, if you’d like.”

You lit up, completely oblivious to the fact that Kaeya had you wrapped around his little finger. You were far too innocent, too careless even, and Kaeya found it amusing. “Oh, Kaeya! You’re the best!”

Diluc’s also fairly annoyed by this mess, but he isn’t one to viciously fight against what’s already happened. It is rather irritating to have to put all of his responsibilities aside for another day, but he’s capable businessman who’s used to having to adapt to all sorts of situations. Being turned into the catmaid is by far not the worst of his problems, but it’s enough of a change to actually make him think about how he presents himself not only to you but the people of Mondstadt as well.

He has maids around his winery, so he mimics his ow behavior with what he wants of them. Of course, you don’t make him cook or clean or anything like that, and similarly to Zhongli, he makes sure to treat you with respect as long as you do the same. Diluc’s a very pragmatic man, and he simply takes his duty as a maid to keep you out of trouble, accompanying you whenever you need to head out to protect you from stray monsters or helping you with any finances that you might have to sort out.

His only request is that he doesn’t let anyone outside of his immediate circle know about his current affliction. The last thing he needs is his reputation as a respectable tycoon tarnished, and he sure as hell doesn’t need Kaeya strolling around to mess with him. If it incentivizes you to keep the whole temporary catmaid thing under wraps, he’ll tell you that it can be a little secret between the two of you. It’s best that you give him your word, lest you end up on the wrong side of his stoic mannerisms.

“Good work today,” you remarked, offering up a meek smile to the Dawn Winery owner. “It must have been a lot of work. You know, having to deal with the whole transformation thing while running a business.”

Diluc glanced momentarily you, his ears pressing against his head. You wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance or shyness, but you decided that it was the latter, as Diluc hadn’t walked away from you just yet. “It’s fine. Albedo said it should wear off any day now.”

“Mmm. But still, if you ever need help from me, let me know, okay? I know I’m your ‘master’ temporarily, but we’re still friends,” You laughed. The corners of Diluc’s mouth twitched as he turned away.

“Goodnight then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[nobodyfamousposts]

Miracle Queen Aftermath

Because there is a disappointing lack of focus or depth for the aftermath of Miracle Queen in canon, I have made my own.

Be warned of: Chloe salt. A lot of it. Chloe faces consequences for things.

Some Bustier salt. Some Adrien being called out on things (but he gets better).

Enjoy!

In the weeks following the Miracle Queen incident, a lot had happened.

Hawk Moth had increased his power, and was now able to summon akumas and amoks at the same time.

Master Fu was gone and now Ladybug found herself the official Guardian of the Miraculous—along with the Miracle Box, kwamis, and duties that entails.

Marinette had resolved to let go of her crush on Adrien, and to support him and Kagami in their new relationship together.

And Chloe had been arrested and would now be going on trial for assisting a terrorist.

It was that last bit of news that had caused the most commotion in Paris and the world at large. What people would have dismissed as simply another akuma attack turned into a much greater matter when accusations started to be made about Chloe helping the super villain intentionally. This was soon backed by multiple eyewitness accounts and further proven by leaked video evidence showing Chloe not only attempting to grab a butterfly for herself after she was de-akumatized but even negotiating with the terrorist before the incident in which she betrayed the heroes of Paris and revealed the identities of most of the team.

To say that the people of Paris were outraged was putting it mildly. People were akumatized over it. Chloe was in a secured facility where she had armed guards around to watch her just as much as they were there to protect her. New legislation was being considered to specifically address willingly aiding supervillains. The backlash was so severe that many were calling the mayor’s own position into question.

After all, if his daughter could do all of that, who was to say that he wasn’t also in Hawk Moth’s pocket?

For Mayor Andre, his hands were tied. While he had covered for his daughter and her selfishness in the past, this was one thing he couldn’t overlook. Not when it brought his position as mayor under scrutiny. And certainly not when it opened a probe into his own dealings.

None of this was helped either by the multitude of witnesses of Chloe‘s past behavior. In particular, her many victims over the years.

And there were a lot.

Now that Chloe was actually being held accountable for something, it seemed to have opened a floodgate of outcries as the many people she tormented finally felt able to air their grievances. They came out on TV, on social media, on radio. Stories littered the air and internet of the horrors of dealing with this single teenage girl.

“She tried to cheat during this designing competition. She apparently stole some other girl’s hat design and tried to pass it off as her own.”

“She was the reason the mayor tried to shut down my ice skating rink! To build another gym! Paris has enough gyms! Why couldn’t she just go to one of those?”

“She had her dad shut down Clara Nightingale’s music video and got her akumatized just because she didn’t get to play Ladybug. We waited in that line for HOURS and didn’t get chosen either, but no one else threw a fit over it.”

“She shoved a giant signed poster of Adrien Agreste professing his love to her in my friend’s face just to make her cry! I found out after the fact that he didn’t even know about it!”

“Our entire school was punished for someone pulling the fire alarm except for her because she threatened our principal. So while the rest of us were having to clean up the school, she spent the entire time insulting and making fun of us.“

“Knowing her, she probably pulled the fire alarm in the first place.”

“She tried to crash a train! I don’t think I can emphasize that enough: she tried to crash a train!“

“Chloe Bourgeois joined up with Hawk Moth? Can’t say it’s a shock.”

“Yeah, given how many akumas she caused, I’d been wondering if she hadn’t been working with him all along.”

It wasn’t that unbelievable to the populous. Nor did anyone feel particularly sympathetic towards her for her current situation. Some might have for lack of knowing her, but Chloe had carved herself a special place in the memories and hearts of nearly every Parisian. There was nobody who didn’t know of her or have some experience with her by this point. So when it came out that she was arrested and facing criminal charges, the response was…rather telling.

Practically everyone was calling loved ones as soon as they heard, resulting in high phone and internet traffic. The Ladyblog crashed after making the announcement. Several people threw parties. People over the internet started coming up with a list of “Things We Will Be Allowed To Do Once Chloe Is In Prison”, with a count that currently rested at 139 and was rising quickly. One guy bought 500 cupcakes and just started passing them out to people on the street singing a jaunty little tune from some late 1930’s cult classic American movie. The school had closed down for a couple of days due to several teachers calling out sick—possibly with hangovers from celebrating a bit too hard. Various Queen-related hashtags and memes were trending with each seeming to fight for the top spot of most used. #let her eat cake was currently in the lead. And Mr. Ramier somehow orchestrated a 21 pigeon salute. On Chloe’s rooftop.

As it was, nobody expressed surprise when it came out that she worked with a supervillain. Many were disappointed, shaking their heads and saying “if only something had been done sooner” or blaming the parents and teachers and other adults in her life. Most were angry, mainly that things had been allowed to get this far and that they hadn’t been acted on earlier—particularly after the train incident.

But no. Nobody was surprised.

Except, perhaps, Marinette herself.

Still reeling from the events of Miracle Queen and the aftermath of…well…everything involved, Marinette had been questioning herself. Constantly. Incessantly. Going over and over in her mind all the things she could have done differently. Blaming herself for all the major blows to their team.

She lost her mentor. Her allies have been compromised. Chloe, one of her former allies, chose to betray them all. Hawk Moth had the grimoire now. Marinette didn’t have a grimoire. Fu had no memories.

And it was all because of her mistakes.

Last time, the prospect of never having to deal with Chloe again had been a relief.

Now…it was background static to her.

She could barely hear the announcements and cheers over the endless cycle of her own thoughts.

I should have tried harder. I should have been more aware. I failed them all. This is because of me.

So while everyone else in Paris was celebrating, de-stressing, or just outright reveling in the news, Marinette was grieving. With the help of the kwamis and Chat Noir, she had been trying to come to terms with what happened and figure out the next plan of action.

Hawk Moth had changed the game, so she needed to step up hers.

The days seemed to have passed in a blur. Between working with the kwamis, trying to recreate and retranslate the grimoire, and simply trying to deal with the remnants of Fu’s life that he had left to her, Marinette had barely even kept up with the current state of things in Paris. Or in particular, Chloe.

Not until the day came when Bustier made an announcement.

Chloe‘s trial date was finally decided. And though she didn’t say as such, it was clear that the case against her was pretty solid. There was video evidence. Eye witness accounts. And Chloe’s own words and actions working against her.

The odds were not in her favor on this. Even if her parents did try to help her, she wasn’t going to get off this time. Aside from getting the best lawyers money by, there really wasn’t much they could do.

Maybe that was why Bustier had tried to step in?

“Now class, I have received word that they are moving to the next step with Chloe’s hearing. Right now, they are looking for character witnesses for Chloe’s defense.” The kind teacher explained, causing Marinette to snap to awareness and realize just what was going on. Partly because of the mention of Chloe and her court case.

But mostly because of the sudden dead silence in the class…

To be fair, she wasn’t sure she could say anything either. Marinette felt her throat go dry and her muscles tense. There was a sudden tightness in her lungs that while she could breathe, it felt like she was suffocating. Why was Bustier bringing this up now?

The teacher smiled, seemingly unaware of the sudden tension and Marinette’s slow drowning. “I know this has been a difficult experience knowing that one of your classmates is facing such a trial. And Chloe will certainly need support. So I thought it would be kind if everyone wrote a letter supporting her for the hearing coming up, so the courts can hear about Chloe and understand more about who she is.”

Silence. Dead silence.

Maybe Bustier herself picked up on the growing tension, as she proceeded to move to passing out papers to the class. “I thought it would make for a nice project, so I will give you all the forms explaining the requirements. Take some time to think over what positive things you want to say about Chloe. If you have any questions, please feel free to come talk to me.”

After that, she quickly left the room, citing the desire to let them have this free time to work on the letters.

The class remained silent for a good minute after she left. Almost as if they were questioning if she would return. Or perhaps if she was listening.

Then—

“‘Think about what positive things we want to say about Chloe?’ Well that’s easy!” Alix spoke blithely, curling the paper she received into a ball. “Nothing!” She shouted and tossed it over her shoulder. “Assignment done!”

Murmurs filled the classroom. Some sounded uncertain, but most seemed to be in agreement. Or at least expressing distaste for the assignment.

“Is she serious?”

“Does she really expect us to?”

“Of all the worst ideas...”

Marinette could hear them, but couldn’t seem to acknowledge anything around her. And furthermore, she couldn’t make herself respond.

Chloe‘s trial was set for a point in the next few weeks, and at this point there was no denying just what type of person she was. If anything, this was probably the first time that anyone was allowed to actually speak their mind about the girl, and they were all reveling in it. Her classmates in particular.

Marinette couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Sure, Chloe has tried to blackmail her more than once.

And damaged her gift to their teacher.

And attempted to frame her a few times.

And stolen her hat design.

And her diary.

And a Miraculous.

And all of the other Miraculous.

But...she had been doing better for a while there, hadn’t she?

Didn’t she only betray them all in the end because Marinette had chosen Kagami over her for her own selfish reasons? Didn’t Hawk Moth only capture Fu because of her own mistake? Hadn’t Chloe only revealed everyone else because she felt betrayed? Couldn’t Marinette have done more to prevent Chloe turning?

Wasn’t a simple letter on Chloe’s virtues the least she could do?

So why...

Why couldn’t she seem to bring herself to?

Kim frowned, looking at his paper in worry. “We’re not going to get graded on this, are we?”

Nathaniel huffed. “I’ll willingly take the failing grade any day.”

“Hear hear!”

“But if it’s a grade…” Max murmured to himself. Out of everyone in the class, he took his grades the most seriously, so this was no doubt a difficult choice for him. He looked at his paper with a rather conflicted expression for a minute before sighing and turning it face-down on the desk. “No. It’s an impossible task in the first place.”

Kim rested a hand on Max’s shoulder in sympathy. It wasn’t that he cared as much about grades as Max did, but it was clear that the fallout of refusing could be more troubling for the genius who took his academic performance so seriously. If Bustier did make it a mandatory assignment with a grade, it’d be horribly unfair of her.

“What was it Chloe said before?” Ivan asked, looking over his page with a glare. “Once a monster, always a monster? I guess she’d know more than anyone.”

Mylene hugged him. “You’re not a monster. You never chose to be.”

“None of us did.” Nino agreed.

“Nobody did except her.” Alix bit out.

Mumbles of agreement came from the rest of the class. It was clear that none of them were on board with having anything to do with Chloe, much less try to help her with her current legal woes.

There was a large part of Marinette that agreed with them. But even so, there was also a large part of her that insisted she had to do the right thing and help.

She knew she should say something. She was supposed to say something here. Because it was her fault, after all. She was Ladybug. She had to be the better person. Shouldn’t she?

“Marinette? Girl, are you okay?” Alya asked, drawing her attention. “You look a bit pale.”

It was too much. It was suffocating.

“I think I need some air. Excuse me.”

She didn’t know if anyone watched her leave the classroom. She hadn’t even noticed if anyone had chosen to follow her.

Not until…

“Marinette, are you all right?”

She spun around in surprise.

“Oh! Adrien! Hey! Hi! Hello!” She blabbered. Why was he here? Did he come out after her? Why? She didn’t need this right now! She struggled enough with him under normal circumstances, she wasn’t sure she could handle being alone with him now. Her stress over everything was bad enough, but having him approach her set her anxiety skyrocketing.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at her—and oh, what a beautiful smile. On any other day, it would ease her worries and make her want to swoon, but right now, it just made her more nervous.

“Are you all right?” He asked again. “You didn’t look so well in class.”

“Y-yeah. Just…” she sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind. With…you know…everything.”

He nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean.”

She smiled. She could always count on Adrien to be a calming supportive friend. He was always so sweet and reliable. If anyone could understand or relate to the chaotic mix of emotions she was feeling, he could.

He sighed in sympathy. “Poor Chloe.”

She froze.

“Chloe?”

“Well, yeah.” He replied, like it was obvious. “I mean, she did a bad thing, but now she’s going through the worst experience of her life. One that could ruin her future. And people are glad about it!” He shook his head. “It’s just too cruel.”

Marinette just stared.

He wasn’t wrong. But…that was what he was worried about?

She couldn’t fault him of course, because Adrien was always so kind and considerate and of course he’d feel for Chloe but…something about this just…pulled at something inside of her and was choking it.

“Chloe is already suffering enough and it feels like no one wants to help her. You heard them.” He gestured back to the classroom. “We’re being given an opportunity to make a difference for her and they’re all just saying she deserves it. Chloe is alone and hurting and they want her to hurt more.”

She felt a denial on her lips but couldn’t give voice to it.

“Everyone is so great with each other. It’s always just Chloe who is kind of on the outside. I know you’ve seen it.”

She hadn’t, actually. Because it was never Chloe on the outside looking in, it was Chloe looking down on them. Whether it was because she genuinely thought she was better or because it made her feel better to do so.

He hesitated for a moment before looking at her. And there was something in his expression that told her he was about to ask something. A gut feeling told her that it was going to be something she wouldn’t like.

“Do you think you could talk to them?” He asked her, looking so sad and despondent that she just wanted to hug him and agree to anything to make that look go away.

“M-me?”

He wanted her to convince her classmates to help Chloe?

“I know you and Chloe have had your differences, but you’ve been able to see past her front. And you’ve done a lot to help her before.” He smiled. “Like the party you threw for her after she became Queen Bee.”

A traitorous voice asked if giving her a second chance with the Miraculous she had previously stolen wasn’t enough? Why did she have to feel bad for her leaving and throw her a party to make her feel special?

“Chloe really needs the help right now. And you’re always so good about that sort of thing.” He looked to her imploringly. “Do you think you could try to get them to at least give Chloe a hand? I don’t know what impact it’ll have in her hearing, but any little bit helps, right?”

Go back in there? With the tension and the suffocation to try and convince her classmates to help when she was questioning whether to herself?

But she had to, right? After all, couldn’t she have prevented this if she had acted sooner? Couldn’t she have helped sooner instead of being focused on her own petty problems? Isn’t that what Ladybug should do?

“Please, Marinette? They listen to you. If you asked them to, I’m sure they’d be willing to at least try.”

Her vision started to dim, seeming to tunnel in on Adrien and his sad and hopeful expression. Her thoughts crying about CHLOE and poor CHLOE and how hurt CHLOE was and how it was her fault for CHLOE—

“I—”

“Oh no! No, you do NOT.”

Marinette suddenly found herself torn away from Adrien by a sudden grab of her arm and pulling sensation. She felt as if she was pushed out of the way by a fierce gale. Like a raging whirlwind had spun her around and behind it.

That whirlwind’s name was Alya.

“How dare you? How dare you try to make my girl be responsible for this!”

Marinette floundered because she had not expected this and oh no now her best friend looked ready to tear her crush’s head off!

“Alya, we don’t have to do this!” She pleaded, trying to calm the other girl down.

“Oh, we most certainly do.” Came another voice. And sure enough, the rest of the class had stepped out as well. All of them looked in varying ranges of frustrated and that frustration was clearly directed at her and Adrien.

Or rather just Adrien, as Marinette discovered when Rose and Juleka pulled her aside and out of their direct line of sight. They were all looking at Adrien, and those were not nice or understanding expressions.

Oh no! This was a disaster! Now everyone was upset and she should have just agreed or said something sooner!

Completely unaware of Marinette’s inner turmoil, Alya stepped forward and jabbed at Adrien in the chest. “You are not going to make my girl feel bad and try to help someone who has never done a single nice thing for her or anyone.” She spat out, forcing him to back away.

Adrien held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Come on, Chloe is not that bad.“

“Not that bad?” Nino exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s words. “Adrien, Chloe betrayed us!“

“She took over Paris!”

“She turned us into her servants!“

“Not to mention the other things…”

“Do we really have to name each time?” Alya started to count on her fingers. “Chloe CHOSE to take the Miraculous for herself instead of returning it. She CHOSE to transform in front of everyone and reveal her identity to the world. She CHOSE to try and crash a train, risking the lives of EVERYONE on board just to show off. She CHOSE to run off with it when Ladybug tried to take it back.”

“She also chose to continue being horrible to everyone even after Ladybug gave her a second chance.” Nathaniel added, bitterly. “She didn’t get better after becoming Queen Bee. It just became another thing for her to lord over people.”

Alya nodded. “And when Ladybug made it clear to her that she wasn’t going to be Queen Bee again, she felt ENTITLED to something that was never hers in the first place. And because of that, she made the active, knowing, and willful choice to work with Hawk Moth.”

“And out all of us while she was at it.” Kim added. “Turning us into her personal ‘guard’. Making us fight our heroes against our will.” He shuddered. “I don’t know if you were hit by those things, Adrien, but it was NOT a pleasant experience having your body turned into a puppet.”

Adrien wanted to argue that he understood full well, but that was only as Chat. He couldn’t say that here.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Alya continued. “So no, we are not going to forgive Chloe. We are not going to try and ‘get along’ with her because her own poor choices have led her to have a ‘rough time’.”

Adrien grew nervous at the way the others drew closer to Alya as she spoke, clearly backing her statements as she continued.

“We are not going to defend her or speak up on her behalf to the entirety of Paris she ALSO betrayed. Whatever consequences Chloe has to face—quite possibly the first ones she will EVER have faced in her LIFE—are nothing less than what she deserves.”

“Yeah!” Came the exclamations from the rest of the crowd.

“She didn’t know what she was doing!” Adrien argued.

“Not know what she was doing?! Adrien, she willingly accepted an akuma! She used it to take control of us and revealed us to Hawk Moth!” Alya exclaimed. “That’s just—how can you even justify that?”

With as angry as Alya was, any lesser or wiser man would have backed off.

Adrien…well, she certainly would never call him unwise, so it had to be because he was more strong-willed than that to be willing to stand his ground here.

“Hawk Moth was the one who manipulated Chloe!” He insisted. “And he’s the one who got away scott free and left Chloe to take the fall.”

“And whose fault was that?” Alya countered. “Chloe HELPED him. He only got as far as he did because of her and he only got away because she helped him!”

“Don’t you think this is cruel?” He argued back. “Yes, Chloe was wrong, but she was already called out for what she did by Ladybug and Chat Noir. The entire city hates her. Isn’t that enough?”

“NO!” Alya shouted. “No, it isn’t! Because Chloe has always gotten away with her antics in the past but you’re actually trying to get us to let Chloe off for a legitimate crime here! If Chloe is going to prison, it’s only because she deserves it!”

Around them, several of the others in the class nodded in agreement.

“How can you say that?” Adrien demanded. “Chloe made a mistake and she’s suffering for it! All this time, she’s felt left out and cut off and this only further emphasizes that for her! She’s been alone all this time and now she’s alone and miserable!”

“Then why should that be OUR problem?” Alya questioned, raising her hands in exasperation. “Why are you trying to MAKE it our problem?!”

Adrien drew back, looking genuinely hurt.

"But treating someone badly never made them become a good person."

"Yeah, because letting Chloe have her way all this time has totally made strides in her path to becoming a good person." Alix called out sarcastically.

"If anything, it's made her worse." Max added. "She's gone from simply causing akumas to intentionally becoming one."

“But—”

Alya cut him off. “But nothing, Adrien! You have to have some gall to be trying to get us to make nice with Chloe after she betrayed us all! And here I thought your little lecture to Marinette to make her feel bad for being relieved that Chloe was leaving Paris was pretty hard to beat.”

Nino blanched at that. “You did what?” He turned on Adrien. “Dude! You know that happened after Chloe tried to crash that train!”

“She was just trying to prove herself.” Adrien weakly argued.

“PEOPLE were on there!” Nino bit out. “They could have DIED because Chloe was showing off! And you got on to MARINETTE? Where was this attitude with Chloe?”

“I’ve called her out!”

“Yeah, one time.” Alya groused. “AFTER the rest of us had spent the better part of the day cleaning up after HER mess. Which she never apologized for or admitted to doing, by the way.”

“And in response, she threw a party.” Juleka muttered.

“It was a nice party, sure.” Rose added quickly.

Alya though shook her head. “But being a good hostess is nowhere near the same thing as being a good person. And before the night was over, you rolled over for her and she went RIGHT back to acting as she always had.”

“She made Mylene cry.” Ivan glared. “She made Mylene cry and you just laughed.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“You said it yourself: ‘she’ll never change’. Except you said that like it was a good thing.”

Marinette looked back and forth between the two, everything inside her screaming at her to help. But she was completely lost on which one she was supposed to help. Because Adrien had a point about what Chloe’s going through but Alya was right about what Chloe did and she needed to do the “right thing” and help Chloe but why did everything Alya say resonate so strongly with her and bring such a feeling of vindication—

No. She was getting distracted. She needed to help. And right now, it was Adrien against the rest of the class.

But Alya was worked up. And Adrien was looking past her to Marinette, eyes begging for help and still so hopeful that she would step in. And Chloe was still in prison and Marinette could fix everything if she just tried so why can’t she try?

“Alya,” Marinette tried. “You told me to give Chloe a chance before after the fire alarm incident, remember? You said we were a lot alike.”

“That was to get you to go to a party!” Alya shouted, making Marinette step back in surprise. “I never meant it like this!”

She stepped forward and took Marinette by the shoulders, holding her sternly.

“Marinette, you are nothing like Chloe! Not where it counts! Yeah, you both can be short sighted when it comes to trying for what you want, but you at least notice and CARE how other people feel! And when you make a mistake, you at least TRY to make it right!”

She shook her head.

“Chloe…doesn’t.”

“She doesn’t try to.” Alix cut in. “If Chloe was feeling sad and lonely, that was pretty much her own fault.”

Adrien looked like he wanted to argue, but Alix didn’t even give him a chance.

“It wasn’t like we left her out. We went well out of our way to try and befriend her. We invited her to things. We tried to help her. Hell, you said it yourself—Marinette has tried to help her more than anybody! And each and every time, Chloe only took what we offered like it was something we owed her but that she was also too good for. I mean, I certainly can’t recall a time she ever thanked me. Can you?” She asked, turning to the other classmates.

All around them, there were murmurs of agreement. Maybe a couple hesitated as they tried to recall a time—one single moment of kindness on Chloe’s part only to come up empty.

“Chloe’s had a hard time.” Adrien insisted. “You know how her parents are—”

“Oh yes, her ‘Daddy the Mayor’.” Alix rolled her eyes. “Like we don’t hear enough about him every time it comes to something Chloe wants. She only threatens us or anyone with him every other day.”

Adrien shook his head and tried to explain. “It’s only because her parents aren’t there for her emotionally.”

“Again, not seeing how this is our problem? Or justification for anything she’s done to us? Or how this excuses her willingly helping a supervillain?”

“Because we’re her classmates!” He argued back, gesturing to all of them. “Out of everyone, we’ve all had the most interactions with her.”

“All of which were negative.” Came a cutting remark, followed by grumbling.

“There were good times, too!” Adrien insisted with a frown. His eyes spanned over the assembled classmates before they came to rest on one in particular. “Kim, you have to have seen Chloe’s good side. You liked her before.”

“Before.” Kim replied, emphasizing the word and the timeframe it referred to. “But being humiliated and her sending out that pic to everyone in school kind of crushed that crush.”

“How did she even have our numbers?” Ivan asked.

“But there had to be something that made you like her in the first place.” Adrien encouraged.

The taller boy shrugged, uncertain and uncaring. “Maybe so, but was it something that was really there? Or something I just wanted to see? Because I’m looking back and quite frankly, I don’t know what past me was thinking.”

“Wow, that’s deep, man.” Nathaniel whispered.

“Thanks!”

Seeing Nathaniel gave Adrien an idea. “Wait, Nathaniel! Didn’t Chloe let you put her in your comic?”

“Forced us to, more like.” The artist bit back. “And even when we tried to fit her, we got nothing but complaints from her. It was no wonder we never got past the initial concept art for her character.”

Adrien winced. “It was an attempt, at least?”

Nathaniel wasn’t buying it. “A poor one.”

“She’s been trying to be better.” Adrien was getting increasingly frustrated. This was not how he was expecting this argument to go. “Rose? What about you? You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

After all, Rose was sweet and caring, always willing to see the good in anyone. Surely she would have something nice about Chloe!

Juleka frowned at him over his focus on her girlfriend and moved to stand beside her. “Don’t push her.”

Still he tried.

“Rose?”

“I’m sorry, Adrien.” Rose said, hugging herself. “But Chloe has done nothing but hurt people. And going out of our way to protect her has only ended up biting us.”

That wasn’t true. Not...all the time at least. There had to have been at least one instance where she did the right thing!

Adrien brightened in realization. “Didn’t she catch you when you fell after being deakumatized during Heroes Day?”

The blonde girl frowned. “Well, yes…but she wasn’t very nice about it. Even though I did the same for her before.”

“Rose, come on…”

She shook her head. “I put myself at risk to help Chloe when she was being chased by zombies, and only got turned into one for my efforts. Chloe never appreciated it. She never thanked me. She didn’t even do anything to help when we were trying to keep her safe!”

“We all ended up kissing zombies because of her.” Alix accused, crossing her arms and looking particularly annoyed. “And not just because she caused the akuma in the first place.”

“Why are you pushing this?” Mylene asked. “We’ve been asked. We said no. Isn’t that enough?”

“But—”

“Adrien, you’ve got a good heart.” Ivan started.

“Easy for him when he’s not the one who has to be on the receiving end of Chloe’s tantrums.” Alix cut in, clearly sounding bitter.

“You’ve got a good heart.” Ivan repeated, sending Alix a look that asked her to back off. “But Chloe…doesn’t.”

Adrien shook his head, remaining insistent. “That’s why she needs help.”

“If she needs help,” Mylene spoke, “It should come from her parents. Her teachers. Any of the adults in her life. She has plenty of adults who are fully capable of helping her. It should not be expected to come from the kids she’s spent years tormenting.”

She gestured to herself and the others around her. “And that’s what she’s been doing: tormenting us.”

“To great joy, might I add.” Max droned.

“She hasn’t been cruel to everyone.” Adrien muttered.

That brought out a backlash of outrage.

“She outted my crush!”

“She insulted Mylene’s cooking and made her cry!”

“She got Aurore akumatized and nearly caused Paris to be incinerated in a volcano!”

“She tried to push Mylene out of the lead role of our movie!”

“She locked Juleka in the restroom!”

Wait...

But that hadn’t been Chloe. She had stayed with the class at the time. The one who did do it was...

He glanced around until he saw her—a redhead in the background behind the rest of the class. She looked anxious and uncomfortable, and almost seemed to be trying to edge around the class to get to the stairs.

Adrien did seem aware. Or rather, he was focused on the fact she was there.

“Sabrina? What about you? Chloe was your friend!”

Of course she would help! Because who better than her own best friend to speak on her behalf?

The rest of the class broke into mutters as they realized the same.

But Sabrina...bit her lip and looked away. Refusing to even meet Adrien’s gaze.

“Sabrina?” Marinette tried, concerned about this reaction. Sabrina had been Chloe’s best friend—or at least the closest thing she could have to a friend. “Minion” or “Servant” would be more accurate. “Slave” would be more honest.

The girl had been Chloe’s only real fan and follower, and had assisted Chloe in some of her worst plots.

Marinette had briefly seen another side to her. A girl who was so desperate for friendship that she latched onto even the slightest bit of kindness and went to the greatest of extremes to appease the “friend” so they wouldn’t leave her. It was no wonder she had fallen in with Chloe—someone like that was perfect for the spoiled girl. Compared to her, Marinette’s anxieties and need to please were nothing.

And Chloe had pretty much been her world for years.

What must she be feeling now?

“Should we really be getting her opinion?” Ivan whispered. “You know how she and Chloe were…”

“Well, if anyone would have anything positive to tell the courts about Chloe, it would be her.” Mylene whispered back.

Sabrina took a breath and spoke quickly—almost shouting in her rush.

“I’m sorry but my therapist said I shouldn’t!”

That got a surprise. The rest of the classmates glanced to each other before looking back to the girl. Adrien in particular looked shell-shocked. Marinette couldn’t blame him. She felt the same.

Sabrina for her part seemed to tense up, as if ready to defend herself from the rest of the class.

Marinette stepped forward. “Sabrina? Are…you okay?”

The other girl shook her head, looking close to tears.

“After word got out what Chloe did, the police had to question me about Chloe. They were able to see that I wasn’t involved, but they…didn’t like what I told them about our relationship. Afterwards, my dad decided to have me see a counselor and she…has been telling me things that I hadn’t really considered.” She curled in on herself. “They all think I should stay away from Chloe and anything directly related to her…for my own health.”

Adrien frowned at that. “But don’t you want to help Chloe?”

Sabrina jumped. “Of course, I do!”

“Hold up, Adrien!” Nino stepped in. “She just said police took her in because of Chloe!”

“But they let her go…”

“It still happened!” Mylene argued. “It doesn’t matter how nice they are, how innocent you know you are, or if you’re released in the end, it’s still terrifying when it happens!”

"And it only happened to her because of Chloe." Alya added.

Rose, in her infinite sweetness, reached out to take Sabrina’s hand in support. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Sabrina sobbed and covered her face. Aside from Rose, no one else really attempted to comfort her. Most of them simply watched her, pitying her current state. But they also remembered how complicit she had been in Chloe’s schemes, so they were conflicted. While they did feel bad for her current situation, there was a part of most of them that noted how she had brought it upon herself by being Chloe‘s lackey for so long, so their sympathy was limited.

Perhaps it was out of awkwardness, or maybe an attempt to give some respect for Sabrina’s privacy that the classmates turned away from her and instead focused on the heart of the argument.

“Man...” Nino tried. “Maybe you should let it go?” Though it was clear from his tone that he knew it wasn’t likely.

Because Adrien had still not given up, it seemed.

He looked around between of the classmates, growing more desperate. But those that remained either looked at him straight on as if daring him to call on them or looked away. A few of them even closed ranks as if to block his view of certain others. It was clear none of them were willing to help him on this.

None of them except…

“Marinette.” He called out, drawing her gaze to him instantly. “You understand, don’t you?”

She bit her lip. “I…”

“Back off, Adrien.” Kim said, giving the other boy an angry frown as he stood in front of her to shield her from his gaze. “It’s not on Marinette to help Chloe.”

“Yeah! She suffered more than any of us!“ Ivan shouted.

“She has been Chloe’s main target for years.” Nathaniel agreed. “She is the last person who is obligated to help Chloe now.“

Adrien winced at the harshness of their words and in their tone. “I just thought that Marinette could help. Like before.”

“Just because she could doesn’t mean she should have had to.” Alya countered. “She’s a teenager. Dealing with Chloe should have been the job of adults. Her parents. Bustier. Damocles. Any one of them should have done something—and if they can’t, the courts will. It’s their job. Not ours.”

“And getting her to help you wouldn’t make a difference anyway even if you had convinced us.” Max said, shifting his glasses. “Chloe helped Hawk Moth. There is nothing we could say that could undo that. And even if we did try, we would either be guilty of committing perjury or aiding in a conspiracy.”

“What?” Adrien jerked in surprise.

“The best we can do is be character witnesses.” Mylene explained. “But this is a court and we can’t claim something that isn’t true! We can’t say anything nice about Chloe when she hasn’t done anything nice!”

Max nodded and shifted his glasses. “Furthermore, our testimonies—even if they were positive—would only serve to create a narrative about Chloe and the type of person she is. They can’t explain away the current evidence against her.”

He rubbed the back of his head. He knew there were issues, but he also knew Chloe. He knew what she could be like. He knew she was a good person deep down. “I know she’s made some mistakes—”

“No.” Alya stated sharply. “Calling them ‘Mistakes’ implies that her actions were unintentional. ‘Mistakes’ implies that people were harmed by accident. ‘Mistakes’ implies that she would have any point learned from them. They weren’t mistakes, Adrien. They were willful acts of cruelty every single time.”

Ivan shook his head, pityingly. “We can’t save Chloe from this. We have nothing to say in her defense. The kindest thing we can do for her is stay silent.”

“She’s better than you think she is. She threw that party once for everyone, remember? You all went.” Adrien reminded them.

“That only proved that she could throw a party and be a good host, not that she could be a good person. There is a difference.” Nathaniel pointed out.

“Not that Chloe could tell.“ Alix sniped.

Adrien ignored the barb. He had given up on getting any of them to listen and now only had eyes for her. His last hope.

“Marinette….come on…please.”

She hesitated.

Everything in her that was Ladybug and her crush on Adrien and her desire to make people happy and take the high road and give second-third-fourth chances wanted nothing more than to give it to him.

Except...

There was a long pause. No one spoke.

The other classmates have had their say. They were letting Marinette have hers. And she knew in that moment that if she spoke up…if she did as Adrien wished and tried to help Chloe…she knew they would go along with her. It may be more out of respect for Marinette than it would be out of any sort of forgiveness for anything Chloe had done, but it would still help Chloe and it would still make Adrien happy.

…and hadn’t Marinette already done that enough?

“Did you know?” Marinette started, not looking at anyone. “I would have been well within my rights to press charges against Chloe?”

Adrien balked at that.

“She’s stolen from me at least three times now.” She shrugged. “I mean, sure, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about my diary since she had Sabrina steal it for her, but she did steal my hat design for a competition and I had proof. I could have pressed charges against Chloe and let her face some consequences…but I didn’t.”

She looked up at Adrien. “I also could have pressed charges for what she did to my gift for Madame Bustier. Since she did break into my locker and vandalize my property while it was still technically mine…but I didn’t.

“Adrien.” She spoke almost in monotone, the only sign of her emotions being how she clenched her fists. “Did you know that after the fashion show, my parents and I took a train to get home?”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. What did that have to do with anything?

“It was the same train Chloe took control of and nearly caused to crash.”

Several gasps resounded around them. Apparently this had not been common knowledge.

“Even if Chloe could have bought her way out of any consequence for the other things, we all could certainly have had her face some major trouble for that one…” Marinette took a shuddering breath. “But we didn’t.”

Adrien frowned. “I…I see that—”

“No, I don’t think you do.” She cut him off. “Because instead of any of that…rather than hold Chloe accountable at any point, I catered to her. I tried to understand Chloe. I tried to make things nicer for Chloe. I tried to excuse Chloe. Time and again. Just like everyone else. Just like you wanted me to. Just like you’re asking me to now. And what did that get us?”

The more she talked, the more words filled out and she was unable to stop the torrent.

“I defended her from Alya after Madame Bustier was akumatized, and Chloe stole a Miraculous and nearly got my family killed. I helped Chloe bond with her Mom—costing myself any chance at a once in a lifetime opportunity in the process—and Chloe tried to get me banished from Paris just for saying she wasn’t a superhero. I threw Chloe a party to show her some appreciation, and she willingly worked with a supervillain to take over Paris. Just to fuel her ego and because she felt she was owed something that wasn’t hers.”

She tilted her head, considering.

“What is that American saying? Three strikes and you’re out?” Her eyes narrowed. “I have given Chloe more than three chances. I have done nothing BUT give her chances. And clean up after her. And just…try to help her. At no point has she been grateful. At no point did she ever apologize. Or show the slightest bit of remorse for anyone she hurt. Or just…try to do better.”

She stepped forward. Past her classmates. Past Alya, who looked ready to tear into Adrien herself.

“So tell me, Adrien. How much more am I supposed to do? What miracle am I supposed to achieve to help Chloe to be a better person that I haven’t already done?”

“You can just try.” Adrien begged. “Chloe’s alone. She has no one in her corner. You’ve given her chances before! Can’t you find it in your heart to give her another chance this time?”

“Why haven’t you?” Alya demanded.

Adrien drew back in surprise at that.

But the girl wasn’t letting him off. “If you’re so certain Chloe is the victim in all this, then why aren’t you stepping up to help her? Why are you pushing Marinette and the rest of us to do it?”

Alya wrapped an arm around Marinette in support. “If you truly believe Chloe has some sort of inner goodness that only needs the right person to bring it out, then it’s pretty clear Marinette is just not that person. She’s tried enough.”

Alix nodded. “I’m pretty sure she could’ve demolished a brick wall with how many time she’s banged her head against it by this point trying to drag a decent person out of Chloe.”

Others in the class also nodded and gave sounds of agreement to that.

Adrien frowned, lowering his head despondently. “I’m just one person. There’s only so much weight my word will have. I just...I just want to give her the best chance.”

“That’s nice for Chloe, I guess.” Kim muttered. “But not much for us.”

Adrien looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Alya stepped forward, releasing Marinette in the process. “Adrien, why should we as Chloe’s victims have to help protect her? That’s the thing we’re not getting here. WE are the ones she hurt. WE are the ones she betrayed to Hawk Moth. So why are WE supposed to try and save her from her own consequences? Why are you wanting us to?”

Adrien hesitated.

“Can you even imagine what it was like? Being frozen in time. Unable to move or speak? Only able to hear her voice in your head? Feeling your body respond as she’s calling you and being unable to stop?” She clutched her arms, as if trying to hug herself. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was knowing what she was doing to us but being completely unable to stop it? How humiliating it was when she had us bowing to her and calling her our Queen? And then…” She took a breath. “She made us fight our heroes. Ladybug and Chat Noir trusted us to help them and we used the Miraculous they entrusted to us to try and kill them.”

“We were just lucky that they were able to turn the tables on us.” Kim muttered. “I don’t even want to know what would have happened if we had won.”

“Luka still has nightmares.” Juleka whispered. “He won’t talk about it, but he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.”

Marinette winced. She hadn’t even considered that everyone else could be suffering ramifications of Miracle Queen as well.

“We could have killed them.” Max stated. “Given the nature of the Snake Miraculous’s power, we very well could have more than once for all we know.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have killed them?” Rose suggested, trying to be positive. “I mean, Chloe wanted all of the Miraculous, right? She probably wanted them as her servants as well.”

Max glared. “I’m pretty sure I attempted to send Chat Noir into space. Even a Miraculous can’t protect someone from that.”

Adrien tried not to wince at the memory. How he managed to even move enough to activate the Miraculous, he still wasn’t sure.

“We fought against them. We never wanted to, but we did.” Alya bit out. “Not even because of Hawk Moth this time, but because of Chloe. And now you are wanting us to just…overlook the trauma of the whole thing to help Chloe after what she did. For something she hasn’t shown even the slightest remorse for.”

She shook her head.

“I know you’re nice, Adrien. But this level of kindness is a cruelty.”

He winced. And it looked like he wanted to argue. But he just…wilted.

“I just…it feels harsh. What’s happening to her. The amount of hate she’s getting. That her entire life could be over.”

That was true. While they felt her current status was well deserved, it was a harsh sentence for anyone. Especially a teenager.

Nathaniel sighed. “Adrien, it is harsh. Maybe cruel. But fact is that she still brought on herself.”

“Isn’t that just victim-blaming though?” Adrien countered, frustrated now. “I mean, Hawk Moth manipulated her! How was that her fault? He’s the one who did it. She was…” He clenched his fists in anger. “Chloe is a victim.”

“No, we are the victims.” Alya insisted, gesturing to herself and the other revealed former heroes. “We were the ones used to fight our heroes. We were the ones who had our identities revealed to the world against our will. And now we are the ones having to live with the results of Chloe‘s choices, just like we always are.“

Adrien looked ready to argue. And maybe he would have, except...

Nino rested a hand on Adrien’s shoulder.

“Adrien. Dude. Just stop. We have enough to deal with and this…this isn’t helping.”

Adrien frowned at that, concerned by his friend’s attitude. “Nino?”

Nino lowered his head. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Really, I was trying not to think about it. But my parents are currently talking with police about their options. Now that I’ve been exposed as one of the temporary heroes, they’re questioning if it’s not safe for us at home anymore. There is a chance of us having to go into protective custody.”

Alya winced at that, drawing attention to her. “My parents have been talking as well. My mom quit her job. She said she doesn’t want to work for someone who would let their daughter do such a thing and put me in danger. She’s looking at drawing me out of school since it was pretty much Chloe‘s base of operations. And since Chloe is the Mayor’s daughter…and Hawk Moth…and just…everything?” She looked away, clearly anxious.

“There’s a chance we may have to move out of Paris altogether.”

Marinette gasped.

Alya looked to the other girl, sad and guilty all in one. “I’m sorry, girl. I guess I’ve been hoping it wouldn’t be an issue. I’ve been trying to talk them out of it, but it’s hard given everything that happened. Currently, the only reason they’re willing to stay is to see through to the end of the trial. But after that…” She shrugged, shaking her head uncertainly. “Who can say?”

“No…” Adrien whispered in shock.

The others in class came closer around her, trying to offer some comfort and reassurances—what little they could give, at least. This was a situation that was clearly beyond them. Marinette herself hugged Alya tightly for all she was worth, and the other girl held her back just as much, neither wanting to be parted.

Adrien, however, remained on the outside looking in. Watching the people Chloe had tormented even before Miracle Queen and realizing just how badly they’ve been hurt by this. It hit him then—for what was perhaps the first time just how much pain Chloe had caused his friends. And how unfair he had been to expect them to simply deal with it.

He stayed the lone person outside of the circle. By this point, did he really deserve to join in the comfort? To try to be the one to give comfort? After what he had tried to push on them all?

After minutes passed, they were finally able to draw away from each other.

“I’m sorry for not saying anything sooner.” Alya told Marinette. “I guess I was just hoping…y’know…that it wasn’t real. Or that it would go away and things would work out on their own.”

Marinette smiled. “No, I understand.”

And she did. That’s exactly what she herself had been doing for the past few weeks as well. Trying to deal with things without really dealing with them. Working without acknowledging just what it all meant because she was scared she would break down and that would be just one more thing Hawk Moth would have won because of this whole mess.

“I was kind of the same way.” She admitted, and it felt like a slight relief to be able to say aloud to someone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you about it.”

She still couldn’t, unfortunately. Not about Ladybug and the kwamis and the Miracle Box.

But…she could talk about Fu. How she lost him. How she feels. She could help support Alya and her classmates and be there for them in the meantime.

She…hadn’t lost everything.

Not yet.

And that was the scary thing…

Adrien gaped at the group. He had thought the trauma was bad enough, and that at least could be worked through. But this...

“I’m sorry. I...I didn’t even realize...”

“Adrien, what Chloe did put a major target on our backs.” Alya explained. “Nobody knows how we became heroes, or that Ladybug was the one to specifically choose us and give us the miraculous to use. Nobody knows WHY we were chosen. It’s not just Hawk Moth, any regular criminal can come after us now in an attempt to get a hold of that power. And we can’t exactly protect ourselves.”

She shrugged helplessly.

“We kind of have enough to worry about with the fallout of Chloe‘s actions. And now you want us to try and protect Chloe on top of that?“

Seeing it now, in this light...it was cruel. It was cruel and unfair and hurtful, and Marinette felt horrible for considering letting herself be talked into it.

Adrien himself felt horrible for even suggesting it.

“We all have to live with the consequences of Chloe’s choices.” Alya stated. “So why shouldn’t she?”

Silence followed. It practically echoed throughout the entire hallway.

He said nothing in response. What could he possibly say? He’d known that Chloe was…difficult with other people, to say the least. He’d known the type of person she was. But she was his friend and friends forgive and support each other, right?

But they were right as well. It wasn’t fair to expect them to help Chloe after what she did. Especially once he knew of the level of harm she’d caused them. He felt the horror trickle in. The trauma everyone felt. The knowledge of what they’d been forced to do. The fact that…

He suddenly found it harder to breathe.

Nino could leave.

Adrien could lose his best friend because of this.

And who knew how many of the others would be forced to leave as well. Aside from Nino; Kim, Max, Alya, and Luka were other heroes as well. Juleka was Luka’s sister. And how many of the other classmates might be pulled out of this class and school because it’s unsafe? And Kagami—oh god, she was outted as well. He hadn’t heard from her in a while. Her mother is probably furious. She could move back to Japan because of this. And Marinette…she had been lucky to not be caught up in that fight since she was a hero only the one time, but that could have been just one more thing Chloe ruined for her…

…what about himself?

He paled.

He was longtime friends with Chloe. Went to school with Chloe. Was in class with Chloe. Chloe, who was currently getting a lot of heat from all of Paris. How was his Father going to react to that? The man was always focused on the company and appearances…what would he do now that Chloe had fallen from grace in such a way? Would he forbid Adrien from talking to Chloe again? Would he pull Adrien from school?

…would he ban Adrien from leaving the house altogether?

How was he only just now considering the impact? For himself or anyone else? Of course people would be hurt. Of course they would be upset. Of course people would respond. Somehow, he knew that, and yet he had only been focused on Chloe that it hadn’t actually hit home until now…

And in that light…

It had been selfish to ask. Honestly, he’d known that when he first tried to approach Marinette. But he felt he had to try. Honestly, part of him had known better than to ask in the first place. But at the same time…there was a part of him that still believed things could just go back to “normal”.

…how foolish. That was a “normal” that nobody else wanted. And even more, it was one that was now impossible…all because of Chloe herself.

“I just wanted to help.”

He deflated, losing all remaining fight.

“I’m sorry.”

The classmates glanced between each other. There was much they could have said, but really, anything they could have said already had been. And with him seeming resigned, it appeared there was no longer a need to defend themselves.

Marinette—ever the mediator, stepped up and hugged Adrien.

“Adrien, this isn’t something you can help with. None of us can. What happens in the trial is up to the courts. And what happens to Chloe is up to her.”

Slowly, he reached up and hugged her as well. The warmth and comfort brought some limited solace in this situation. He felt lost. Out of control. Like the world was moving around him and he didn’t know where he was standing much less where he was supposed to be.

They weren’t ready to forgive Chloe. And he couldn’t force them to be. Given the circumstances, he couldn’t blame them. And it was really unfair of him to try. Especially…

“I’m sorry, Marinette.” He whispered to her.

He had tried to use her. Looking back, he had a bit of a tendency to rely on Marinette to fix things when she shouldn’t have had to. Especially when it was for Chloe’s sake. He knew plenty of times Chloe had done things…but he always seemed to overlook how hurt Marinette was because of it, simply due to how well she always appeared afterwards. She was strong and confident, but also a good listener and willing to forgive. It was like nothing really brought her down.

It was due to this that Marinette was often the one he turned to whenever things happened. Because she would listen. She would understand. And she would always try to help, regardless of her position.

In this light…he may have over relied on her too much.

“I wasn’t fair to you.” He admitted. “I just saw Chloe hurting and only thought about how to fix things for her. I didn’t consider your feelings.” He hugged her more strongly. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t speak. But she squeezed him back.

He felt another body press against him. A quick glance showed it to be Nino.

“I’m still super mad with her. And I don’t like how you tried to push us to defend her after what she did. But I get that she’s your friend and you care about her. I’d do the same if it were you in her place.” He gave a small laugh. “Not that I think you ever would, of course.”

Adrien smiled back. “Thanks.”

This…this felt much better.

Things weren’t okay right now. He still wanted to help Chloe. His classmates were still hurt. People were still angry. Hawk Moth was still out there.

But whatever happened...in this moment, he felt they could make it.

[firstginger]

Hello!

Firstly I just wanted to tell you I love the daemon quiz and it's been awesome sending it to all the people in my dnd group to see what they get. I sent them the pokemon quiz a while back and that was a blast too.

Secondly, i was wondering if I could mabey get some form suggestions? If you still do them, if not that's totally fine no worries :)

I'm in a bit of an odd pickle. I'm an INFP, I bond closely with small groups of people and (the pickle part) I protect them FEROCIOUSLY. I lack the classic infp avoidance and passivity due to some very rough life experiences. Because of this a lot of infp forms don't really seem to fit, but I'm not quite sure what to do about it otherwise. If it helps at all, I'm chaotic good with a 548 tritype. any suggestions your willing to give would be amazing. Thank you so much again for sharing your work through your quizzes!

ahh thank you so much for the compliment, i love hearing what friend groups and families get! :) i'm just a sucker for imagining my friends vibing with their daemons...

oh a great question! a lot of INFP forms do tend to get delegated to the dreamy poet stereotype (rabbits, doves, etc), when honestly INFPs with their Fi leading the way are some of the most ride-or-die friends there are. they have such a strong, deep sense of self that i think a lot of interpretations tend to focus on their desire to achieve inner harmony -- but this is not necessarily at the expense of retreating entirely from external stimuli. Fi is an internal process, but it's wrong to think that it's not equally as involved in upholding an INFP's principles (you are acting in an egregious way by hurting my friends so i will tell you off) as it is creating them (these are my values and i surround myself in people who respect and agree with those values). so in summary i would definitely expect an INFP 5 to be curious and selectively sensation-seeking, as well as stubborn and protective... particularly detached from the imaginative INFP stereotype because what if it's wrong, what if it's purposeless, what if it's not productive.

i'm wondering if some wild canids or scavengers might be a good fit for you. jackals and coyotes seem a little too harmonious, so my first thought was something along the lines of the new guinea singing dog, which TDF has a beautiful write-up on here. they're internal and standoffish people who view new people with a wary eye, though are incredibly protective over their own space, friends, and ideas. i think they may lean into a sort of paranoia about loss: i can see an 8 tritype come through with their sense of confident and competitiveness, combined with a need to be in charge of themselves and avoid control. i think they also pair a chaotic nature with the more "lawful" stereotype of the 5 together well. they're active, curious, and opportunistic, but also closed-off, watchful, and possessive. they are Fi: self-focused and willing to move on from situations and people who aren't good for them, but dutiful towards the people and things to which they have made a conscious commitment.

chaos, introversion, and possessiveness also reminds me of rodents! what's pretty cool is that porcupines are a pretty varied group: old and new world porcupines are actually pretty distantly related and are an example of convergent evolution! their spines are completely different; the new world porcupines have the characteristic barbs, while the old world don't. anyway, i think a species of socially tolerant porcupine might fit, like the brazilian porcupine which lives in small tight-knit groups and has an almost entirely arboreal lifestyle. they're generally easy-going and keep to themselves, confident enough to be independent when needed, but also fiercely self-assured and protective when need be. they're also known to greet and say goodbye to other porcupines in their group which i think is just a cute fact. old world porcupines tend to be more socially tolerant; the crested porcupine is tight-bonding and loyal, but also highly defensive when pushed. they're adaptable and open-minded, if not quite stubborn -- they also have the most delightful sense of curiosity, and are known to collect bones and bring them back to their dens. the indian crested also seems worth looking into, or if you enjoy unique animals, the brush-tailed porcupine is an option. they're fairly social and generous, protective and resilient, inventive but habitual. if you're not vibing with porcupines at all, other rodents you might consider are the cape ground squirrel (very devoted to friends/family, routine-oriented and diligent, like to stay busy and be competitive, protective and fierce when their loved ones are threatened... but might be too social for you), the muskrat (introverted but socially tolerant, generally non-confrontational and keeps to themselves but very assertive when pushed, judgmental and habitual, impulsive when following their heart, perfectionists and hate being wrong, though not at all group-oriented or dependent on others), or especially the maned rat (has a strong sense of self but is also tightly bonded to loved ones, protective and observant of their loved ones' feelings, curious but habitual, emotional and emotive but not necessarily talkative, private but aggressive when bothered).

and finally i'll tentatively suggest the mediterranean water shrew. they're a socially tolerant shrew species that lives near bodies of water. like all shrews, the mediterranean water shrew is a highly particular individual who tends to take a while before they accept new people into their inner circle, but once they do they're agreeable "us vs them" sorts of friends. they're rather possessive of their sense of security and suspicious about others, they may just be more curmudgeonly than actually hostile or judgmental -- however they certainly are competitive and distinct. i would generally categorize them as INTPs just due to how they're not particularly altruistic which might not work for you. they value self-sufficiency and drive, and they tend to not get involved in other people's business. the eurasian water shrew has a bit more bite -- more confident and domineering and hierarchical.

hope this helps! :)

[mythicamagic]

Sesskag Week: Day One ‘Green’

Title: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before

Summary: Kagome witnesses Inuyasha and Kikyo in another loving embrace and runs away, stumbling straight into Sesshoumaru that moonlit night. (My attempt at an old fandom trope.)

Rated T

Words: 4,000

You can read this on Ao3, Dokuga and Fanfiction.net 

AN: I just wanted to try my hand at an old sesskag fandom trope that I reckon was in the height of popularity from the early 2000s- 2010s. Other tropes from that time included Abusive Inuyasha, no one knowing what the canon end or final battle was like, and mokomoko being sentient. Ah...old memories. If this fic feels like it's from a bygone era, well...that was the intention lol. For Sesskag Week Day One - Green.

-----

Standing frozen stiff, Kagome stared ahead. A gasp remained locked behind her teeth. Slim fingers dug into the bark of a tree she'd hidden behind, gazing around the trunk towards a couple cradling each other tightly.

This was the second time. The first had hit harder inside her chest, the slam of heartbreak cracking the fragile shell of first love that had closed around her heart.

But she'd made a promise to Inuyasha; to remain by his side. She needed to get over this haze of green misting her eyes, the jealousy roaring through her veins. Inuyasha and Kikyo used to be lovers, it was perfectly natural and humane to want to hold his lost love.

That didn't make it any easier to see.

In fact, the emotion welling up in her throat threatened to burst louder than before. Fearing the strength of her own reaction, Kagome stepped back. She took another, then another, whirling around to flee into pitch-black darkness.

I wanted to be more mature about this, she thought. The tears stinging her eyes bespoke of her anger, worry, and heartache- like an old wound had been freshly ripped open anew.

Kagome couldn't be understanding or mature, not like poised Lady Kikyo likely could. Kagome was 15, emotive and sparking. She was fire, passion, a roaring flame of anger that could climb so high nothing would stifle it.

Stumbling over tree roots in the dark, quiet woods, Kagome ran blind. When she felt that she'd covered enough ground, far away from the lover's embrace, she stopped abruptly in the middle of a meadow. Sweat beading her temple and throat burning, she threw back her head.

And yelled.

She threw all turbulent emotions into it, crying so loud her windpipe protested. The noise became horse and broken before she stopped.

Standing within that moonlit clearing, Kagome caught her breath, tears threatening to spill over.

"Must you make such noise in the dead of night?" a steady voice drawled.

Her chest constricted, breath halting. Shadows peeled off from the trees, a figure revealing itself under the moonlight.

Kagome blinked hard, trying to fight tears as Sesshoumaru stepped closer. She moved back to keep distance, vaguely wary. Shit, she'd forgotten her weapons.

He wasn't an enemy per se anymore but they weren't exactly allies either. Since he'd adopted that human girl, they seemed to be in more of a stalemate. Nonetheless, the caprice of the Killing Perfection's moods were unpredictable.

"M-my bad, I didn't think anyone was around."

"You cried like a wounded animal," his lips curved, as though enjoying the thought. "Take heed, girl; such wailing will disturb demons with keen hearing- and not all are as forgiving as I tonight."

"Right, duly noted," she mumbled, rubbing her arm. Damn it. She'd just wanted a place to cry. Sesshoumaru was the last person she wanted to feel vulnerable around.

Golden eyes slid up to observe something beyond the trees. Turning to follow his line of sight, her chest constricted- glimpsing a trailing soul collector in the sky.

"Inuyasha's dead priestess uses those creatures, does she not?"

"Y-yeah, they're Kikyo's soul collectors."

His attention returned to her face, resting heavily there. It disquieted her until at length, he finally made a noise. "...Hn."

The Daiyouki smoothly pivoted, walking out of her available vision to meld within thick darkness again, but she sensed him linger beneath the trees, perhaps taking a seat.

"Keep the snivelling to a minimum."

Kagome startled, blue eyes widening. The first tear fell- closely followed by the second. Soon a stream of them flooded down her face, and she crumpled to her knees, palm clasped tight over her mouth as she tried not to sob.

She wasn't sure how or why. How she could suddenly fall apart in front of him when Kagome prided herself on not crying in front of anyone if it were possible. The why also remained a mystery- why did he invite her to stay? Sesshoumaru was not a charitable sort. Perhaps his sadistic streak enjoyed the salt of endless tears.

Kagome stayed there, quivering in the moonlit clearing for a good while, grass cushioning her bare legs, arms wrapped around herself protectively. When at last the sobs abated, she shakily stood.

Without a word to the demon who had watched her like a voyer of her pain, Kagome headed towards the village after piecing herself back together.

She couldn't see Sesshoumaru's expression, nor the way in which citrine eyes followed her figure until she stepped out of sight.

---

It wasn't like Kagome cried after every damn encounter with Kikyo, though they did leave her worn and exhausted. She felt mighty proud of not bursting into sobs the second Inuyasha's eyes lingered on her a little too long. But Kagome could bear that. She could bear many things.

It was fine, totally fine. She was fine!

Until she wasn't.

It had been two months since that emotional night and thankfully Sesshoumaru hadn't acknowledged her fine display of despair and teenage hormones. In fact, he seemed a little quieter during their encounters while hunting for Naraku, pinpointing her amidst her friends and eyeing her carefully sometimes.

So it was with mild surprise that Kagome stumbled into him again on one such occasion where she needed a good cry. And then again a few weeks after- followed by another encounter near a waterfall a month later. Every time, Sesshoumaru said nothing. He merely waited a respectable distance away, not particularly looking at, nor acknowledging her sorrow as she let out pent up frustrations.

What should be an immensely private thing had changed. Kagome wasn't sure what to feel about it, especially when he began erecting barriers around the area.

Almost like he was ensuring her privacy while continuing to invade it himself.

"W-why…?" she choked out one evening, sitting upon a log with only the Daiyoukai for company. Inuyasha and the others were none the wiser, sitting back at camp further within the forest. "Why are you here, hanging around? Is it fun for you to watch this?" her anger simmered, misdirected.

Sesshoumaru's lazy gaze slid over to her, reclining at the base of a tree. He huffed, drawing a knee up to gracefully drape an arm over it. "Your wailing is an assault on my hearing, I derive no pleasure from this."

"Then what's the deal? I find it hard to believe you're doing it for me."

"Hn, you are correct, I am not," he freely admitted. "This act of concealment is out of acknowledgement. Warriors must not show weakness in battle, nor to anyone but a select few. I am merely ensuring your wish to hide your pain is successful since you are so terrible at doing it yourself," inhuman eyes pinned her in place. Her breath stalled at their intensity. "Your desire to conceal tears and weakness is unexpected for one as emotional as you."

Kagome picked at her fingers. "It's not out of a sense of duty or warrior pride as you seem to think. I just don't like burdening people with my problems. Only...all this energy piles up and explodes out as anger at Inuyasha anyway, I'm not suppressing or hiding anything at the end of the day," she gave a self-deprecating smile. Letting out a long whoosh of air from her lungs, Kagome turned to him.

"For what it's worth, thanks. For uh- concealing me. I still think it's odd that you're going to all this trouble but I'm grateful."

He arched a brow, unruffled and outwardly placid.

Wiping the remaining tears away, she gave a weak smirk. "Urgh, I blubber so loudly over a guy I really shouldn't be in love with. Kinda stupid."

"Indeed," he drawled without sympathy, glancing away.

"And you're still a jerk," she hummed, smiling slightly. But a weird, considerate one. Was it possible to be both considerate and a jerk?

Sesshoumaru did not look at her, tilting his head back to gaze at the branches overhead.

"You 'blubber' so loud a 'barrier' is necessary in order to keep your privacy. Inuyasha would catch your scent otherwise."

"Can Naraku see us like this?"

"The barrier does not mask us from sight, it merely hides scent. It is effective on Inuyasha and other demons but the spider could easily survey us from a distance."

Kagome sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Gotcha," she murmured, falling into a strangely companionable silence with him, before asking; "have you ever been in love?"

His reply was immediate and crisp; "no. Such things are for fanciful beings."

Biting her lip to keep from mentioning his 'Great and Powerful Father' had fallen victim to such fanciful things too, she hummed.

Sesshoumaru frowned in her direction. "Speak."

"I just think- when you do experience love, it's gonna knock you off your feet."

He sneered, "you think yourself an expert on the subject?"

"Gods no! Do I look like one?" Kagome grinned, gesturing to her tear-stained cheeks.

Sesshoumaru searched her face, visibly relaxing slightly. He tilted his head, surveying his sharp nails. "For what it is worth, if I had an opinion on the matter- which I do not," he assured. "I should think your fanciful 'love' emotion is not supposed to cause such pain. I question your dedication to it."

"My feelings for Inuyasha aren't something I can turn off. Believe me, I would if I could," shifting she gazed up at the stars, smiling gently. "Wow, Ursa Major looks so clear and close tonight."

Youki brushed her senses, her only warning. Soft grass crunched beneath boots as Sesshoumaru joined her on the log, sitting beside her. Mokomoko brushed the exposed skin of her knee. His eyes narrowed. "You are referring to the stars?"

Kagome blinked with surprise at his sudden piqued interest, raising a hand to point them out. "Yeah, a constellation. Ursa Major starts there and ends there," her finger drifted.

Sesshoumaru's blank features became lofty, huffing. "That is the incorrect name for it. Those stars are called Satoko."

"Who told you that?"

"My instructor when I was young. And this collection," he reached out, plucking her hand out of the air and redirecting her point to another constellation, "is Mineko, a volcano spirit."

Her skin burned at the contact, feeling his calloused palm, rough from years of training- clasping the back of her hand. Kagome blinked, feeling strange. Her stomach jumped, and she felt grateful and confused when he released her.

"I-I see! Tell me more about them, are they linked to your demonic heritage?" Kagome asked, flexing burning fingers in her lap.

Even hours afterwards, the sensation of warmth and strong youki flitting over her flesh continued to itch at her skin.

---

"I don't want to talk to you! JUST BACK OFF!"

Inuyasha's expression flickered, open hurt briefly appearing before white ears pinned flat to his skull. "FINE! Go running home again, see if I care!"

Kagome stormed away, hands balled into fists. She didn't call for Kirara to fly her to the well, she couldn't be bothered to haul herself back to the future and continue their long and tired trend of long-distance pining followed by disgruntled reconciliation.

She was tired.

Miroku, Sango and Shippo were tired too, judging from the multiple sighs sounding out behind her.

Before she could step out of earshot, she heard the monk murmuring to Inuyasha, encouraging him to follow her and make up. Likely to save everyone the hassle of another drawn-out spat.

Oh no.

Hadn't anyone listened to what she'd said? She didn't want to be chased in some coy 'let's have a fake argument' way. Real hurt and bone-weary annoyance soured her mood.

Hurrying away, Kagome began to run alongside a stream, jogging through a sparse forest and hoping to put distance between them. So lost in her thoughts of avoiding the Hanyou was she that Kagome burst through a youki barrier without noticing, glancing over her shoulder with paranoia.

By the time she detected wafts of steam brushing her skin, it was too late to stop. She gaped upon facing forward, almost crashing headfirst into a well-sculpted chest.

Long strands of silver against bare skin caught Kagome's dazed attention, gaze travelling up to find golden eyes staring down at her. Sesshoumaru paused half-naked before a hot-spring he'd likely intended on bathing in, tipping his head to one side in a silent demand for explanation.

"Kagome!" a distant voice resounded through the trees.

Panic erupted inside Kagome's heart and she turned to the demon. Her hands latched onto his remaining arm, blue eyes stinging.

"Please..."

She couldn't articulate what she wanted, even though it was so simple. Something thick clogged her throat.

The Daiyoukai lifted his attention to the trees. He then moved swiftly.

Sesshoumaru tossed his red and white hankimono over her, enclosing it tight around her body. It shielded Kagome from sight as her vision became swallowed by white silks.

Kagome jolted as a hard force shoved her down into dewy grass that perspired from heady steam saturating the air. Before she could react to the plains of a lean body pressing against hers, his weight pinning her to the ground, she heard branches shaking. Twigs snapping.

Her loafers were ripped off her feet, tossed somewhere further away. Likely out of sight. She heard them clatter over the sound of her drumming heartbeat, unable to see what was going on.

"What the- Sesshoumaru!" Inuyasha snarled, sounding slightly out of breath. "The fuck are you doing, hanging around here?"

A clawed hand minded the folds of the hankimono apart just enough to expose the side of Kagome's cheek- firm lips pressing against it. She stiffened. Sesshoumaru kissed her skin heatedly, his sigh billowing hot breath over her sensitive skin.

"Clearly I am enjoying myself with a woman. Do not interrupt, whelp."

Kagome could barely breathe, face turning steadily red. She lay frozen, reeling.

"Keh, whatever. Just tell me if you've seen Kagome pass through here."

He must not be able to smell me...

"Can you not keep tabs on a simple miko, brother?" Sesshoumaru purred, his hand gliding over her covered thigh, stroking back and forth. "Did she flee from you? I cannot say I blame her."

A snarl ripped through the hot springs. "Piss off! I'll find her myself!"

Furious sounds of bushes being slashed aside rang out, Inuyasha's swears becoming fainter as he drew further and further away.

Left with a demon straddling her and enclosed in luxurious silks, Kagome exhaled. She blinked, briefly dazed as the cover was lifted from her face, eyes adjusting. Dappled sunlight stretched across Sesshoumaru's face as he lingered close with an unreadable expression.

Kagome swallowed. "Thanks," she managed to say.

She's never been this close to a guy before, well not like this, anyway. Inuyasha carried her on his back or occasionally in his arms if the situation got dire, and they'd hugged. But this felt different.

Sesshoumaru braced himself over her using his one available arm, corded muscles leading down to a tapered waist. He was handsome in an aristocratic, cold sort of way – all hard angles and sharp edges. Her polar opposite. The heat of his bare skin bled through her school uniform, their hips melded together, and Kagome was struck by something painfully obvious that had eluded her until now.

There were...other options besides just Inuyasha.

Clearly, the Hanyou knew this little nugget too, since he flitted between herself and Kikyo.

But really, Kagome hadn't given it much thought. Hojo liked her but was easily dismissed. Kouga liked her but she'd always been too busy to really give him a chance.

And Sesshoumaru?

Her attention was helplessly fixed on him while the demon craned his neck down, scenting her hair.

Sesshoumaru had never been on the table before. Did he even look at her like that?

Golden eyes slanted to meet her, half-lidded. Her stomach did a flip, thighs twitching. Soft pink lips parted, and his attention flew to her mouth, lingering.

Before she could say anything, Inuyasha's voice sounded out somewhere close by again. "Damn it, Kagome! Just come out! Quit hiding!"

Kagome found herself sighing- stilling when she caught Sesshoumaru's dark rumble. His lips peeled back with displeasure, body leaning up and away from hers, climbing off.

Remaining sprawled on the ground for a moment, she calmed her racing heart. Picking herself up unsteadily, Kagome unwrapped the hankimono from around herself, awkwardly folding it as best she could and handing it back.

"I better go."

He inclined his head. "Until next time."

Next time.

Her gut wrenched. The next time she became upset with Inuyasha chasing after Kikyo. Oh wow. It really had become something so commonplace it felt inevitable.

That wasn't right or normal. That wasn't how she wanted to live, was it? Anticipating one crying session after another?

"Actually, let's meet up," she said, setting her shoulders back.

Surprise brightened his gaze. Sesshoumaru's lips twitched, "meet up, hm? You make it sound like an illicit affair."

Her expression darkened, "no. I'm not into that," she snipped, pushing her vindictive mood down. This was not an offer out of petty revenge. She just wanted to see him out of choice for once. "I brought a telescope. Let's use it tomorrow when it gets dark."

He agreed to it, watching her leave in that quiet, interested way he usually did. Kagome glanced back in time to see him partially turned away- hankimono clenched in his grip and lifted to his nose in a careful inhale.

---

Kagome actually felt quite happy about the meeting. Anticipation had raced through her veins during the entire day, though she didn't breathe a word about it to her friends.

After finishing up her food, she'd hung around camp late into the evening, before inching away with a weak excuse.

She didn't notice Inuyasha's keen eyes trailing after her, too preoccupied with hurrying around a nearby waterfall and retrieving her telescope that she'd hidden behind some rocks earlier.

Carrying the heavy thing up to the crest of a decently sized hill, she staggered upon finding the Daiyoukai already awaiting her at the top.

Kagome stopped and stared. She then felt a genuine smile curve her lips. How strange, that he could invoke such a reaction.

"Did I keep you waiting?"

Sesshoumaru lifted his chin haughtily, grunting. "I am not some lost puppy following you around, miko. I sensed your approach from my camp and generously decided not to stand you up."

Kagome grinned. What a big response. Almost like he was lying.

Giggling softly to herself, she arranged the telescope set, angling it up to face the distant cosmos. "Okay, you're gonna love this. I'm going to bore you with astrology and point out zodiac signs."

"These fancy foreign words do not sound boring," he uttered, leaning in close to view the stars with faint amazement, perhaps not anticipating the clarity of their view. Kagome felt his hip brush her side, her cheeks immediately blazing red. She tried to temper her reaction but failed miserably, looking at him briefly.

His placid features were much too close, familiar dark youki humming in the space between them. Comforting. Golden eyes met hers, ever watchful. Waiting.

"Sesshoumaru!"

They immediately flew apart as though they'd been doing something scandalous, Kagome's heart leaping into her throat.

Inuyasha stood a little ways away, teeth on display, hand resting on his sword. "Get the hell away from her!"

"Inuyasha- wait," she tried to cut in, but Sesshoumaru was quicker. Lifting his remaining hand, he fed youki into it, allowing deadly fingers to elongate into murderous talons. However, much to her surprise, he faced Kagome while flexing them.

"I will kill her if I please, Inuyasha," he rumbled. "She is a mere fanciful human."

Blue eyes widened, but Kagome clocked onto what he was doing immediately. It lingered there under his calm features that he tried to harden into contempt.

He was playing the villain. For her.

Likely out of some misguided desire to keep everything at the status quo, because he believed it would be easier on them both if they weren't seen as friends. Everything halted inside Kagome. She felt like she'd been coasting through her days without really questioning it.

"Bastard!" Inuyasha snarled, ripping his sword from its sheath.

With a strange sense of calm, Kagome raised her head. She then stepped in between them both, placing her fingers atop Sesshoumaru's sharp, transformed ones.

"That's enough," she said quietly, lowering his large hand.

"K-Kagome? What're you doing? Get back!"

"I said; that's enough, Inuyasha!" Kagome grit her teeth, tension gripping her fiercely- until it abruptly left all at once, rendering her exhausted.

"We need to talk," she said softly, gazing at him meaningfully.

Inuyasha blinked, lowering his sword as his ears pricked and lowered.

Turning to Sesshoumaru, she smiled weakly. "We're going to have to cut this meeting short, sorry."

"We can always reschedule."

Kagome gentled, a warmth pooling inside her that she hoped to revisit soon. However, the Daiyoukai hadn't made it three steps away before familiar laughter spread over the vast countryside beyond their hill.

Miasma leaked out of the sky, waning flowers on their stalks and killing the grass, rendering it dulled brown.

Naraku appeared in all his true, villainous glory- at exactly the wrong time nobody wanted to deal with him. However, absolutely no one could ignore this fight, as a completed Shikon jewel rested in the palm of his hand.

Kagome's stomach dropped. She automatically accepted her bow and arrows from Sango and Miroku when they arrived, looking grim-faced and out of breath. Inuyasha lifted his sword again with determination blazing in his eyes.

The Final Battle had begun.

---

They say 'time heals all wounds.'

Kagome would like to have a word with whoever 'they' were because this sentiment proved false. Time muted pain. It concealed it under layers of civilian life, responsibilities, family dinners and get togethers with friends, but her deep wound never really healed. The pervasive desire to return back to a life that had been stolen from her.

She couldn't say it had been perfect in the Feudal Era but she still missed it terribly. Missed her friends, travelling, exploring, strengthening her burgeoning powers.

She also missed someone she hadn't anticipated longing to speak to.

After killing Naraku and getting her hands on the jewel, Kagome had made her wish;

'I wish Kikyo would come back to life.'

It had resulted in trapping Kagome in the future, the Bone Eater's Well closing, barring entrance. She'd figured the look on Inuyasha's face had almost been worth it, his gob-smacked expression kind of hilarious.

Perhaps the wish had been an out of nowhere impulse. Who knew. All Kagome knew was that a part of her had died that day on the hill with the telescope- the candle of first love snuffing out. She still cared for Inuyasha of course, she wouldn't have wished Kikyo alive otherwise, but the act said something. They'd never be anything more than friends.

After trying her hand at dating a few boys in class, Kagome had broken up with them and remained single for the better part of a year. There wasn't anything wrong with them, per se, but it had felt disingenuous.

It wasn't them she wanted to speak to.

At the age of 18, the miko got her chance. Inexplicably, and without warning or provocation, the well reopened again one night.

Kagome stirred awake, lured downstairs by the promise of magic. It pulsed strongly like before, so she slid her legs over the rim of the well without fear that it would be a oneway trip.

Leaping down while still clad in her patchwork style pyjamas, dark hair whipped upwards as blue light swallowed her whole.

Immediately the smell of city smoke was replaced with distinct smells of petrichor. Fresh scents guided her feet to land gently on the bottom of the well, looking up at dark, cloudy skies.

Climbing out and feeling moisture lingering in the air dampening her hair, Kagome looked up, breath hitching.

The clearing looked exactly the same. Achingly nostalgic.

It sprawled empty and lonesome, awaiting her in complete silence. Kagome noticed the dirt disturbed around the well from how often she and Inuyasha had travelled through it.

Breath catching, hot tears stung her eyes.

Laughing weakly to herself, Kagome tried to rub them away in vain, more rolling down her cheeks. Unlike the usual times though, these were happy tears. Relief threatened to buckle her knees.

"I'm home," she shuddered.

"...Welcome back."

Snapping her head up, Kagome swallowed an embarrassing noise, warmth melting into her expression. She took a step, and then another, walking over to Sesshoumaru as he stood a little ways away, moonlight highlighting his hair.

"Y-you're here?"

Golden eyes flitted over her face, gentling a touch. He reached out and brushed pale knuckles against her jaw, catching tears upon it. "I sensed you. As usual, you blubber too loud, miko."

Choking on a sob, Kagome laughed, catching his hand and pressing her lips to the inside of his wrist.

Sesshoumaru stiffened, attention zeroing in on her. Kagome held his gaze as best she could with watery eyes, smiling.

"Date me," she stated plainly.

No second-guessing, no 'will they, won't they?' no more pining or questioning. Kagome refused to do it again.

He seemed somewhat taken aback by her forwardness for a moment, before a strange kind of intensity livened his expression. He wound his single arm around her waist, pulling her in close.

"What boldness, Kagome," he purred, lips ghosting the side of her ear. "But you can do better than that. Are you certain that is all you want from me?"

Kagome blushed hotly, shifting to catch his eye and smirk. "I just made it back here after three years. Let me catch my breath," she teased, hooking a hand under his yellow obi. "But...yeah, I might want more soon, you jerk."

Sesshoumaru rumbled with approval, swiftly ending the charade of teasing and swooping in. His lips claimed hers firmly, and it was not a kind, sweet kiss but she didn't mind, pressing herself against him. His tongue delved into her mouth, brushing against hers as a clawed hand snaked up into dark hair, gripping tight.

Smiling against his mouth, Kagome trying her best to keep up with his rough kiss as he bit and sucked her lips, inhaling her scent. He almost seemed elated, kissing her so quick and eagerly, like he'd been starving for it.

Out of curiosity, Kagome slid her palm over his chest, finding his heart racing.

Sesshoumaru broke away to plant heated kisses against her neck. He panted, the hand in her hair shaking with want of her.

Kagome stared, slowly looping her arms around his shoulders. "You...want me?" she said quietly like an obvious revelation. It felt so strange and surreal.

He huffed with amusement against her lips. "Hn, it appears you have made me fanciful, miko."

Brightening and smiling widely, Kagome pushed up on tip-toe. Guiding his mouth down with palms cradling his striped cheeks, she kissed him again, pouring every powerful emotion left unsaid into it.

End

[minniepetals]

nap

❥⋆｡˚ anon said:  Nap + Jellyfish!reader PLEASE DJAJZKAKZAJ - Jellyfish Pumpkin

˚₊· ━━ WORD PROMPT

[ nap ] for a muse to fall asleep on another

genre: sea!au, sea witches!bts, jellyfish!reader

pairing: bts x reader

word count: 1.3k

˚₊· ━━ MASTERPOST

Seokjin sits on the cushioned bench of his private study room, his face grim and serious as he reads the scrolls before him, unbothered by anything else around him. He likes it this way, the peace and quiet with no one to disturb him since the past three hours in order to focus on his studies of black magic. He likes his alone time above anything else and prefers it this way rather than being bothered by people who like to take his time away.

Suddenly he feels a head fall right atop his shoulder and when that takes his attention away from his scrolls with furrowed brows, he freezes for a split second upon realizing it has indeed been way too quiet and the fact that no one has disturbed him for two hours straight was quite an odd thing.

All because the main reason why he can’t get much peace and quiet is fast asleep right beside him, unable to disturb him.

He chuckles softly to himself, remembering why you were in here with him in the first place. Seokjin had made you the only exception to remain by his side because he wanted to use your light in order to read his scrolls. He doesn’t like the light in his study room, feels it’s much too bright for his own comfort and prefers reading with a dim source of light. Due to the fact that you can control your own glow as a jellyfish, he asked you to stay with him.

He remembers the way your eyes had light up when he had asked you and gave you permission to walk into his study room. After all, Seokjin doesn’t often let people in his office so knowing you had been an exception made you so happy.

It’s quite amusing knowing the little things can please you so much but he smiles at the fact that that is so much like you.

Stirring a little, he watches at the way your hands seem to search for his arm, finding it almost immediately and happily inviting yourself to snuggle up against him while holding onto his left arm.

He softens at the sight as your face seems to relax at the action and goes on to take your body and pull you right into his arms so that you’re lying right on top of him. Satisfied with leaving you right there, he returns to reading his scrolls once again.

But not long before there is a knock at his door, disturbing his peace.

Seokjin’s face falls with displeasure but does not look away from his reading as he answers in a low voice. “Enter.”

The servant swims in with a hurry. “Master—”

He holds you closer to him upon your slight stirring at the sudden loud voice and hushes you softly before he gives the servant a death glare that instantly shuts him up. “Do not disturb the Queen.”

The servant is quick to lower himself on the floor and hang his head. “F-Forgive me, Master.”

Seokjin stares at him for a few seconds before he returns to his scrolls while mindlessly stroking your hair. “What do you want?” He demands.

“There is a disturbance at the border, master.”

“Have the other masters arrived yet?”

“Yes master, they call for you.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh before dismissing the servant. For a moment he just sits there, staring at the floor before him before looking down at your peaceful sleeping figure. He hates this, having to leave you. It would be a lot more efficient if you were awake for you to know where he would go but to leave you while you are asleep is another story.

You won’t like it when you wake up with no one by your side, he knows, but what other choice does he have? He doesn’t wish to wake you up now, you look way too peaceful and he doesn’t have the heart to do so.

So Seokjin picks you up with no effort and transports the two of you to your shared private chambers and settles you onto the bed.

Yet just as he is about to leave, your hand is clutching onto his sleeve, refusing to let him go.

He sighs and sits on the edge of the bed and leans in so that his face is just inches away from yours. “Be a good girl, will you?” He says in a gentle tone. “I’ll be back soon, you don’t have to worry so much, you clingy little jellyfish.” He gently pinches your nose and shakes it side to side, causing your face to reflectively scrunch up, making him chuckle lightly. “Sweet dreams, dear one,” he says and presses a soft kiss to your lips and the fingers that hold his sleeves before he has to force your them off in order to leave for his duties.

It was after a few hours later do they finally finish what they have to deal with and return to the sound of your voice resonating gently in the hall of their sanctuary.

“Have you seen them?” They hear you ask, already knowing there is a pout forming upon your lips as your voice is still a little croaky, probably from just waking up. You don’t like waking up alone and they’ve always spoiled you with the idea that you’d always wake up with someone by your side. “Was there an emergency somewhere? Surely they know not to leave me alone when I am sleeping and all of my guards are down. I mean they’re the ones always so protective of me in the first place so why—”

“Well then, we are very sorry for leaving you all alone, my love.”

At the very moment you hear Namjoon’s voice, your color lights up in an instant, matching the sparks in your eyes as your pout is replaced by a bright beam.

Oh how they adore that face.

“You’re back!” You’re quick to swim on over, greeting them with enthusiasm and arms wide open as you fall against Namjoon who catches you without effort. “I was getting worried because I couldn’t find any of you and the last thing I remember was dozing off while Seokjin was reading his scrolls.”

“An emergency was called,” the oldest one affirms your theory from just a few seconds before as he reaches out to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Please,” Yoongi scoffs, “surely you don’t believe anyone can actually harm any of us that easily, right?”

“Just because you’re powerful creatures does not mean you cannot get hurt. I mean look at me,” you say, spreading your arms wide open as you spin yourself around as demonstration, “jellyfishes scare a lot of creatures away but I get hurt too, you know.”

“That’s because of your naivety and the desire to always make friends with everyone around you,” Taehyung states.

“What’s wrong with that?” You ask almost as a way to deflect his criticism, knowing how right he is but not wanting to admit it.

“You know exactly what’s wrong with it,” Jimin tells you with a pointed look and causing your lips to purse together because once again, they’re right. “But,” he goes on a little gentler this time with a hand reaching over to caress your head, “that part of you is one of the many reasons why we love you. Why we came to love you in the first place.”

“Your kind nature can be very harmful to your own self, letting yourself allow creatures that do not deserve you right into your heart. But to tell you to stop doing that wouldn’t be right. Instead,” Jungkook slides an arm around your waist and pulls you right against his chest with a squeeze to your hips, “we’ll be the ones to stop any of them before they can do anything to you. After all, not only are we protective but we are very possessive creatures as well.”