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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 4 years ago

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Anon said: I hope I'm not too late to slip in a request! I was actually hoping for a more platonic request with Miche? Just how he would help out a new cadet on his squad or something... Maybe there having a hard time fitting in now that there on a section commander squad or even worried about an upcoming expedition. Miche is one of my biggest comfort Characters and I'm such a shy person lol...I love you blog by the way, it's such a comforting place...🥺

Miche reassuring you that you're enough.

{Miche & reader | tw:none | platonic, comfort | canonverse}

{ "The Interior of the Palm House on the Pfaueninsel Near Potsdam" 1834 by Carl Blechen 1798 - 1840 }

No one can deny that the survey corps had a...certain reputation between the people, for being ruthless, unhinged and not a place for someone hoping for a future.

Their leader is known for gambling with human lives, their strongest has a criminal history record and their most intelligent, does experiments that would put medical student dropout Frankenstein himself to shame.

In short, you'd be crazy for walking there with your own two feet and expecting a crumb of compassion.

You don't go looking for fish in the desert.

You've heard it all, those sayings people keep reciting like a broken record whenever you'd bring up joining the survey corps.

"You'll just end up titan food"

"Why do you want to throw away your life?"

"God your poor family…"

And despite all of that, you still marched on, despite everyone who told you to quit.

Not only did you join and stayed alive for so long, you've even managed to climb the ranks in record time.

So fast in fact that you were assigned to join a section commander's squad after a very successful titan capture mission that earned you a pat on the back from Erwin.

Being pulled from your friends and moved to a new place where you were surrounded by veterans who've been in their positions for 10 years or more, was quite sudden and shocking.

One thing that should've eased your nerves, was the fact it was squad Miche you're being put into.

Anyone in the survey corps can tell you that in comparison to other squads, this was the most...friendly per say, since they prioritised teamwork and coming back alive over everything else, knowing together they're much stronger and willing to protect each other no matter what.

While yes they did have their quirks, it was almost nothing in comparison to Levi's strict hygiene rules and Hange's workaholic routine or Erwin's unreadable intentions.

And yet, you felt unease at the whole situation.

You were clearly "that new cadet" in this old group of close-knit people, almost standing out even.

You wanted to prove yourself, you've done it before to all those people so why is it any different now.

Maybe...because they are actually experienced soldiers this time, and not strangers living in blissful ignorance inside the walls.

Maybe because you feel the growing burden of expectations set on you for being the newest person in the squad, and being put there by none other than the commander himself which would raise some eyebrows if you couldn't deliver.

Uncertainty and doubt began pooling up inside your mind, making you second guess decisions and overthink actions.

And it's not like the squad members were leaving you out, no in fact they were doing their best to include you.

….maybe even too much actually, it didn't help that all of them were outgoing people, it was overwhelming.

Nanaba was an unofficial stand in caption when Miche wasn't around. Having a confident yet compassionate personality made her protective of her teammates, almost like a big sister, earning her a lot of respect.

So much in fact that it would unintentionally intimidate people out of approaching her

Gelgar was a strong believer in Miche, loyal to a fault almost. Yet he wouldn't say no for a chance to relax and grab a couple drinks, being friends with so many people came naturally to him with his mellow personality and overall friendliness.

Maybe a bit much too friendly? That personal boundaries were often crossed without him realising it.

Lynne was a good balance between the two, she was considerate of others feelings...even so much in fact that she tended to sugar-coat almost everything.

Thomas and Henning were close with each other, both serious and determined. But maybe because they were so used to each other that dealing with new people became...strange, for conversations with them resembled an awkward dad attempting to check on you but not actually putting much effort to understand.

Meanwhile, you were a reserved and shy person.

It was a miracle that you managed to get a group of friends in cadet training that stayed with you throughout the years, but now after being transferred it was all turned to dust.

You have to start again, meet people again and talk to them while wondering if they actually like you or are pretending to be nice because they don't wanna come off as rude-

On top of that, Erwin seemed to keep an eye on you after your last mission, silently conveying the trust and expectations he's putting your way, to not fail him and show you're worthy of this special treatment.

It was too much, too overwhelming and draining.

Dread and uncertainty loomed in the corners of your mind, only metastating in size as the date for the new expedition was announced.

To add fuel to the fire, apparently everyone seemed almost...excited or nonchalant for going out there again, like this is a mere walk in the park as they began making preparations and training.

Were you the only one that felt nervous? Oh god.

Your legs felt like they were weighted down by stones as you stared at the large board in front of you, a white sheet signed by the commander announcing next week to be the date of the expedition, several names listed below for who'd be required for service.

Your name was at the top, even with a line underneath it. The fact it was in cursive didn't make it any less gut-wrenching.

The chatter of people around you, discussing the plans and joking with each other, began blurring out at the back of your mind.

The weather seemed colder as shivers ran down your neck. A rolling feeling in your stomach making your throat tighten, your own voice inside your head was the only noise you could hear.

All those thoughts and worries creeping from underneath the dark corners that you've been pushing them into all this time, like a swarm drowning you in their "what if" and skepticism, full of doubt and illogical pessimism for worst case scenarios.

Thoughts that aren't even your own joined them, ones you never had and knew weren't true and yet amidst the storm it was hard to tell the real from the ones passing through.

You know you're capable, so why…

Are you capable?

Yes…

but are you really?

...

And how are you even sure?

Before it could pull you deeper into that hole of despair, something snapped your attention back to reality, a hand nudging your shoulder.

"You really didn't hear me huh." The voice came from behind you, a tall figure stepping closer till you were in his shadow.

Miche looked at you with a tilted head, his lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes bore into you like he's attempting to guess what's going inside your brain.

You've been too lost inside your mind you didn't notice that you were the only one left standing in front of the board.

From the way Miche's shoulders fell after reading your expression, eyes softening after glancing at your name on the sheet, he was quick to catch on.

Before you could say something to save your face after being caught in this state by none other than your new captain, Miche just told you to come with him, making sure to walk beside you، protectively staying close that no one on your way would interrupt.

Passing the corridor leading to his office, you gave him an uncertain glance as he simply gestured for you to continue walking for whatever unknown place you're headed to.

Soon enough the buildings and stone streets faded the further you went on, grass and dirt roads taking its place.

It wasn't a long walk per say, but more of a secluded area that took both of you some turns in seemingly shady alleyways to reach.

You couldn't hear the horses or soldiers walking anymore, only the soft flowing of the nearby river.

The tall grass barely reaching below your knees, some ladybugs crawling on top of the scattered daffodils in-between, the closer to the river cliff you got the taller it became.

The first thing Miche did, wasn't explaining to you why you're here, or what exactly he was after.

No, he barely said a word even, only taking in a deep breath as the wind had the courtesy of pushing his bangs back, eyes finally in clear view now.

Gaze meeting yours, he gave you a nod, a gesture to do the same thing.

You reluctantly took a deep breath.

He smiled.

Both of you sat by the river, he gave you his jacket to sit on.

As the silence grew between you, even while it wasn't the uncomfortable kind, it was clear he was struggling to phrase something, the right words just not coming to mind.

Turning his body towards you, he finally said, "how about i just..listen, let it out.".

It wasn't easy, you can't just pour out your heart to your superior.

Not to mention the military wasn't a place for weakness, could you really openly admit to your worries?

Well, yes you could, because it isn't weak, it takes great strength to face something scary and admit to it.

It's strength that got you this far.

How could you ever mistake vulnerability for weakness?

Keeping true to his words, Miche didn't interrupt you as you slowly opened up about what's been troubling you.

He patiently listened, occasionally humming for you to go on whenever you'd lose track.

And by the end of it, after you poured out all your frustration, sadness and worries, it felt...like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Miche looked at you with understanding in his eyes, as if he himself has been in this exact same position years ago.

...and maybe he was, considering his behaviour wasn't what's socially common, he would've definitely stood out back before he had the respect of being a captain.

He isn't a man of words, for actions spoke much louder.

That's why he became more attentive from that day on, offering to help you train, giving you a smile whenever you passed by and sitting near you whenever his squad were gathered so he'd ask for your opinion on plans or simply share looks whenever they began joking with each other.

He didn't attempt to make you change, instead he made changes to accommodate you.

You're part of the team and he made it clear.

And while he couldn't give reassuring words, he certainly gave his time and energy, paying attention to you, reading your moods and listening whenever life becomes too much.

Maybe he saw his past self in you, and wanted to give you all the comfort, attention and care he wished for back then.

Even if it was mere hugs and shoulder pats that he could offer, he knew small things can make changes overtime.

For him, it's not getting rid of your stress that he was attempting to achieve, no, for life is full of stress.

Instead, he wanted to offer you ways to deal with the stress, to acknowledge it as it is and be heard, to be understood.

Because while stress will pass either way, it didn't mean it had to pass painfully.

You weren't alone, he made sure of that.

Maybe he got too attached, maybe someone might say he's giving you special treatment, maybe Erwin would give him a backhanded comment every now and then.

But since when did Miche pay attention to these things?

Well...he can't deny he might be giving you more break days than the other Cadets, larger food portions and even most of his time.

But he won't justify himself to anyone either, he doesn't have to.

Because after all, there really isn't any ulterior motives behind his actions, they were as simple as they came.

It was pure genuine care, the type that makes someone want to protect a person and watch them grow healthy.

The type that made him offer you a thumbs up after each training session, a proud smile on his face for how much you're learning.

Maybe some slight teasing about how if you keep this up, you might even replace him as the second strongest one day.

And while he said it with a joking tone, the hopeful pride-filled look on his face told a whole nother story.

you're not sure if it was a joke or a promise.

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

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Rejected Heroes Club CH1 (Adrinette Zine)

The @adrienettezine is finally out, and I was selected as Long Fic Writer. This was an idea that I almost wrote during Adrinette April, but I didn’t quite get around to it. It’s silly and cute, and to encourage you all to go read the full zine, I will be updating this every other day for the next week until all 4 chapters are posted, so if you want to read the next part go check out the whole zine ;)

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

“Marinette, are you a superhero?��

Alya’s question hit her like a brick wall the moment she entered the classroom, and Marinette would know - she’d run into several brick walls in her life.

“Am I a what?” She asked, and her pulse quickened.

Had she exposed her own identity? Had she messed up again? Would she have to go into hiding or pass the Miracle Box onto Chat Noir and lose all of her memories and move to China to live her days working in a rice pasture and never see her friends ever again and unknowingly live out the rest of her life as a colossal failure and the worst Ladybug in the history of Ladybugs?

“I’m kidding,” Alya chuckled then gestured over her shoulder to where Nino, Kim, and Max stood. “We’ve all been talking, and now that our identities are exposed because of little miss Miracle Queen, we’re realizing that Ladybug picked several people from our class to be heroes. I know you could never tell even if you did, but we’re just wondering who else in the class could have a secret identity since we’re all kinda bummed about being outed.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, relaxing her shoulders.

“It’s kind of crazy that Ladybug picked so many of us,” Nino said, leaning back in his seat.

“Well, if you consider the number of times that Ladybug and Chat Noir have interacted with our class or saved us from being akumatized, it isn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. She and Chat Noir have become quite familiar with all of us,” Max said matter-of-factly.

“What do you think it means?” Alya said, that impish reporter’s grin Marinette knew all too well curling on her lips. “I have a couple theories that Ladybug is actually a student at our school, constantly on the lookout for potential allies, and it would make sense since she chose all of us. Maybe she’s even in our class.”

Marinette’s stomach jumped up to her throat.

“Whoa, wouldn’t it be awesome if Ladybug were walking among us? Maybe she’s even listening to us right now,” Kim said, glancing around as if he expected Ladybug to be hiding in any crevice, which, given the present conversation, Marinette wouldn’t have minded.

“What are we talking about?” Marinette jumped at Adrien’s voice over her shoulder, her heart fluttering when she turned to him.

“Just about how weird it is that Ladybug picked so many of us from the same class to be heroes,” Nino replied.

“I think it’s a little suspicious,” Alya said.

“What if Ladybug and Chat Noir were our classmates? Wouldn’t that be so awesome?” Kim said, and Marinette chewed her cheek.

Now, more than ever, it was important that she protect her identity. She’d seen firsthand the dangers that came with people knowing who she really was, and she needed to kick dirt over her trail before these speculations got out of control.

“Yes,” she said, and everyone turned to her. “I was a hero, too.”

“Wait, for real?” Alya’s eyes narrowed.

“Uh, yeah, but I was only ever allowed on one mission. Back when Mme. Mendeleiev was akumatized after she went on that show, remember?” Marinette said.

“Alternative Truth! Where everything isn’t always true, but nothing is really false!” Kim exclaimed, crossing his arms into an x.

“Right, that one,” Marinette said. “I became Multimouse. Unfortunately, I’m so clumsy and scatterbrained that I gave Ladybug my Miraculous back in front of Chat Noir, so she told me I could never be a hero again.”

“If you were a hero, why didn’t Miracle Queen’s wasps summon you?” Alya asked, and Marinette shrank under her gaze.

“Uhh, because Chloe doesn’t like me?” She shrugged, and after a moment of contemplation, Alya conceded.

“Fair enough,” she said, and Marinette breathed a sigh of relief. “But that does make five students from our class who have been picked.”

“Uh, make that six. I was also a temporary hero once,” Adrien said, and Marinette smiled up at him, remembering the day fondly. She only wished things had worked out, but it was probably for the best that they didn’t. If Adrien were on missions with her, she’d definitely be too distracted.

“What? Dude, no way!” Nino said, extending a fist to bump.

“Yeah, I was Aspik—the first person to wield the Snake Miraculous—but things didn’t exactly work out, so I let Ladybug pass it on to Luka. I probably didn’t get summoned by Miracle Queen because Luka took over my job,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Okay, this definitely adds a lot of evidence to my case,” Alya said, that determined glint whenever she found a new scoop to chase in her eye, but just as quickly as it came, it dimmed. “It’s kind of a major bummer that we all got exposed though. Now that Hawkmoth knows our identities, we’ll never get to be heroes again.”

“Yeah...”

Her friends deflated, and Marinette curled her shoulders. She hated seeing them all look so defeated. Everything really had been flipped on its head. She’d lost her mentor, her allies, and on top of that, she had way more responsibility now as guardian. It was true that this group couldn’t get their Miraculouses back, but that didn’t mean they had to stop being heroes.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Marinette said. “Since none of us can be superheroes anymore, what if we start a club for doing good deeds as civilians? We can play the role of our superhero alter egos, but instead of fighting villains, we can volunteer at the library or pick up trash. Kind of like…a rejected heroes club.”

“Great idea, Marinette,” Adrien said, and her cheeks warmed.

“You could make us all costumes just like the ones we had when we were heroes,” Nino said.

“Yes! I wanna see how high I can jump as Roi Singe,” Kim said, stretching his legs.

“Kim, you won’t have actual superpowers. It will just be a costume,” Max said with an eye roll.

“We can all even pair off into teams like Ladybug and Chat Noir. Each team can be responsible for different areas of town,” Alya said, casting a sly grin in Marinette’s direction. “Nino and I can be a team, obviously, and I’m pretty sure Kim is going to need Max to keep him under control, so that leaves you two one-hit wonders to be a team.”

Marinette’s spine stiffened as Adrien turned to her. Of course Alya would pair her with Adrien! She was only the most amazing best friend in the whole world. Marinette wasn’t sure if she loved her or hated her—she was too busy trying not to faint.

“Awesome! I love teaming up with Marinette,” Adrien said, nudging her with his elbow.

“Great! Then it’s settled. The Rejected Heroes Club starts today,” Alya said, and Marinette took a deep breath.

What had she just gotten herself into?

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #adrinette #adrienette #adrinette zine #my writing #rejected heroes club

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peach-the-owl · 4 years ago

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Maybe one with Kima and Allura? The reader is an artist and one day they start to leave little notes with sketches for them in random places where they can find them and it's just them being a good friend trying to make them smile during the day.

Aww, I love Kima and Allura so much, their relationship is just so precious 🥰 I hope this turned out well

Also might’ve let myself get carried away with the idea, it’s a bit long 😅

Little Notes

Allura & Kima & Artist!Reader (Platonic)

You were making your way over to Allura's for a visit knowing she had been stressing out over Kima being missing from her mission in Kraghammer and hoping to calm some of those nerves. You walk up to the doors of her tower and give a knock, after a small wait the door opens to reveal the arcanist herself.

"(Y/n)! It’s been awhile, how are you?" She asks slightly surprised by your sudden appearance.

"Hello Allura, sorry about not informing you of my arrival." You sheepishly scratch at the back of your head in apology. "Do you mind if I come in? If not I can just-"

"No no, it’s alright." She stops you and steps out of the way for you to enter the tower. You welcome yourself in and go to sit in your usual spot whenever you’d visit. "I’m actually glad you decided to pop in, I’ve needed a distraction what with everything going on." Allura admits. At this point you pull out your sketchbook and pencil you always carry with you and start to add some fine line work to a piece you’d been working on for weeks now, never seeming to get it quite right.

"I know you’ve been stressing over this, which is exactly why I wanted to come over. So why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been up to recently." You suggest, not looking away from your drawing. You knew this wouldn’t bother Allura because for the years you've known each other, while it looked like you weren’t paying attention to the conversation you actually were, listening very carefully to every word being spoken to you. Allura went on to tell you about her work with the council and some of the worries she has for Kima, you adding in your own thoughts to the conversation every now and again. She then told you about her allies, the adventuring group known as Vox Machina that she asked to help find Kima, you knew about this group and what they did for the royal family but didn’t know them as personally as Allura did.

"I just hope nothing terrible has happened." Allura finally concludes after her long rant. You give an amused hum and sigh, taking proper notice that you’d wandered away from your project and had several random doodles covering the page. However instead of hindering you this placed a wonderful idea into your head.

"Relax Ally, if these people are as capable as you say then they’ll find Kima in no time. Just relax and breath, alright." You look up at her this time seeing her nod and take a few deep breaths. While she was distracted with that you carefully tear out some of the doodles, writing little messages of encouragement on the back of them and stand up. You sneakily slipping one of the notes between the cushion of the chair having it stick out just enough to be noticeable but not too obvious. "It’s been lovely, thank you for having me over but it’s getting late. I should really be making my way home."

"Allow me to walk you out." Allura offers which you happily accept, sneakily hiding the little drawings along the way in various places for Allura to hopefully find later. "I really appreciated the visit, helps to confide in a friend. You’re welcome back anytime." Allura gives you a quick hug that you return before the two of you part ways until next time.

It had been a while since your little visit and felt it only fair to check in and see how everything was going. When you arrive you’re relieved to see that Kima had returned in one piece, while Allura was occupied with thanking Vox Machina for their efforts you quietly shuffle over. You then watch as Kima and Allura share a small moment by staring at each other before they run into each other’s arms, you smile a little at this before deciding to quickly jump in.

"No it’s fine, just pretend I’m not here." You joke gaining everyone’s attention, you walk over to the two and without missing a beat Kima gives you a playful punch in the arm. "I swear to Bahamut Kima, you’re gonna break my arm one of these days." You slightly hiss from the pain.

"Nah if I meant to do that, it'd already be broken." Kima says slyly, you roll your eyes before properly hugging your friend, slipping a little note you’d made into her armour.

"Well now who’s this one?" The red Dragonborn asks. After some proper introductions with the group Allura invites everyone into her tower for tea, you hang back a second unsure if you should join them or just head home early.

"Don’t just stand there, the offer stands for you too." Allura gives a warm smile and ushers you inside.

"I know I just didn’t want to feel like I was overcrowding the place, plus I’m sure you’d like to catch up with Kima." You say meekly. You make your way up and automatically go to sit in your usual spot, pulling out your sketchbook as both a distraction and to continue on a commission for a client you’d received. Enjoying some tea and listening to the conversation between everyone else, Kima leans over your shoulder to look at your work.

"The hell is that supposed to be?" She asks quietly, staring at your drawing.

"Art." You reply cheekily. You catch her rolling her eyes at the corner of yours.

"I know what it is, but what is it?"

"The client asked for something abstract, so this is the result so far." You precede to erase and redraw a few of the lines you’d made until you felt satisfied.

"I don’t get it." You stifle a laugh, Kima didn’t really have an artistic eye but you appreciated that she at least tried to understand your craft whenever the two of you got to interact with each other.

"Shouldn’t you be involved in this conversation? Not to be rude or anything but it sounds important." You look up at Kima now to which she scratches at the back of her head, you can now see the blush on her cheeks.

"His questions were making me a little uncomfortable." She gestures over to the goliath, Grog. You give a reassuring pat her on the shoulder, sneaking another note into her armour before you realize something.

"Sorry to interrupt but what time is it?" After some fumbled reply’s Allura gives you her best estimation. "I have to go, I’ve got client to meet today and sooo much work to do. Thank you for the tea Allura, it was lovely to meet you all and thank you for safely bringing Kima back." You give a bit of a rushed goodbye as you gather up your things and hurry out of the tower, pausing briefly at the door to hide one more note for Allura to find later.

Time came and went, work piled up leaving you busy to no end, the only contact you had with your friends being the letters you’d write each other telling of what you’d been up to. However once the dragons came your world went crashing down, you had longed for a break away from all the work on your shoulders but not like this. Your home was in shambles, your hard work that took you months to complete destroyed in seconds, you considered yourself lucky to have made it out alive. Now you were but another refugee in Whitestone praying for a miracle while doodling in your sketchbook, the only thing that survived with you albeit slightly charred at the corners.

"Oh my gosh! You’re alive!" You hear a familiar voice call, looking over to see Kima run up to you. You give each other hug and once you let go Kima punches your arm.

"Every time I swear." You sigh with a small laugh, rubbing your arm.

"Gotta keep that arm strength up for your art stuff." Kima jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Anyways, do you know where Ally is?" You shake your head.

"I don’t, but I assume she’s alive, that woman’s a tough cookie." Kima nods in agreement.

"Would you like to help us?" Keyleth asks.

"Me? No I couldn’t, I’ve never really been the adventuring type, I much prefer swinging around a paintbrush over a sword." You politely decline the offer. "But I would like to advise one thing," you pat Kima's shoulder, once again slipping in a note you’d made into her armour in hopes of bringing encouragement. "Don’t do anything rash that could get you killed." Kima gives a quiet "yeah I know" and with that you watch the party continue on their way.

You did what you could with what little resources you had to build up and regain some normality to your life, starting a little side business of making motivational cards for anyone needing an extra pick me up. Folks seemed to really like it, each card having a personalized picture and message written on it, doing what you could to help keep hope alive in these trying times. When you met up with Kima and Allura again Allura was relived to see you were still alive and standing strong. They invited you over to the abode they were staying at together, which put a new idea into your head. Before you arrived for your visit with them you had made more of your little notes for them, this time making a few that you hoped would help spark the romance between the two you’ve seen since day one (secret wingman). When you arrived they gave you a quick tour of the place, leaving opportunities for you to slip the notes into various places around the house, making you wonder if this time they were doing it on purpose having finally caught on to your little gimmick. You all sat down and sipped away at some tea or coffee while talking about the actions going forward, as the evening came you bid your friends a goodnight and made your way back to your temporary living quarters…

More time flew by, the Chroma Conclave was since defeated and Emon was slowly rebuilding itself, a time of peace finally setting in and you had a lot of work ahead of you if you were ever going to be able to buildup your home from scratch. The only downside was you didn’t have the gold to pay for everything, your work as an artist didn’t always pay a lot but it was enough to keep you stable but having to pay to acquire materials for the house and art studio was another story entirely. Your then approached by two very familiar people.

"Allura! Kima! So good to see you both again. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write or visit often lately, been quite busy trying to re-establish myself." You greet your friends and notice the large bag Kima's carrying.

"It’s alright we’ve been rather busy ourselves with everything going on. We actually wished to talk with you." Allura gives you a gentle smile.

"Well I’d normally like to welcome you into my home, but as you can see it’s… not much of a home yet." You half-joke gesturing to the still ruined state of your house, the broken paintings you once had all having been stripped away when the Cinder King still ruled.

"That was actually one of the things we wished to speak with you about, Kima if you would." She turns to Kima who in turn hulls the bag over her shoulder letting it clatter to the ground, and you can hear the jangling of coin inside. "I believe this should help accommodate everything you need for your home and work." You stare jaw dropped at the bag filled to the brim with gold.

"I-This is very generous of you. I simply can’t just take your money." You say out of shock at the large gold pile in front of you.

"Think of it as payment for all you’ve done for us." Allura smiles and gives you an expectant look.

"All I’ve done? I haven’t really done anything to help."

"Sure you have, back when Kima was missing finding those papers with the little drawings and messages really helped keep me calm and cheer me up through all the stress." Allura explains.

"Yeah, or the ones you managed to slip into my armour. Little distracting at first but invigorating when I was in a tough spot in battle." Kima jumps in. You just smile, all you were doing was trying to be nice and encouraging to your friends unknowing of the effects it apparently lead to.

"Still, not all is from us." Allura suddenly cuts into your thoughts, you look at her confused. "That was the second thing we wanted to talk with you about. Some of this is a sort of upfront payment for a few commissions from our friends, half now to help you and half later once you've completed their requests."

"There’s more!?" You were almost lightheaded from the information, but shake it off and refocus yourself. "I’d love to, please fill me in on all the details."

"First off Keyleth asked for a landscape piece of her home in Zephrah, Keyleth will easily help bring you to and from her home whenever you’re ready. Next Percy wanted a portrait made for castle Whitestone, he said he’d fill in the rest of the details upon your arrival. Finally," Allura gives a bit of a sigh, "there’s Taryon… he wants a, and I quote, 'self portrait made with nothing but the finest oil paints you can get your hands on for the Slayer's Cake.'"

"So basically the plan is to visit Whitestone once my home's rebuilt. That should be fine, one question though, who’s Taryon?"

"Trust me, you’ll know who he is when you meet him."

"Sounds like quite the character." You say with a hint of nervousness. "Well if that’s everything, I should get to work. Thank you again for everything." You go to collect the heavy bag of gold only to pause when you hear Kima speak up.

"Ally did you still wanna… you know ask about the thing?" She had leaned closer to Allura to ask but you still heard her.

"What thing?" You question to which Allura perks up a bit in realization.

"I almost completely forgotten. Right, there was one more, very special request." You look at the two in silence, Allura walks up to you and takes one of your hands in hers. "(Y/n), Kima and I have a very important and special request of you." You just nod and wait for her to continue. "We were wondering if you could make us something special for… for our wedding." You stare wide eyed in awe.

"You two are getting married? That’s amazing! About time too." You cheer.

"Not so loud please, we just want a simple and private wedding you know, a few eye witnesses for the event. You don’t have to make anything grand, if anything we’d like what you make to be similar to the notes you’ve always left us." You press your hands together and hold back the urge to just scream to the heavens in happiness for them. When you manage to calm yourself enough you look back that the couple and give them a large smile.

"I’d be honoured to make something for your wedding." You give them both a hug and reset your sights on your shambled home. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a house to get built."

"Hold on, I still have one more thing for you." Kima interrupts this time. Before you can ask you feel a punch impact your arm, you suck back the pain as you rub the spot she hit. "Alright now your free to start." She gives you a smug look.

"Every. Single. Time." You playfully glare back. You had a long road ahead of you and you were certain it’d only be a matter of time before the peace is disturbed again but for now you wanted to focus on the present. Like you said, you had a lot of work to do.

#critical role #critical role & reader #vox machina #vox machina & reader #allura #allura vysoren #kima #kima of vord #allura x kima #allura & reader #kima & reader #npc appreciation month #nothing romantic here

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remuswriting · 4 years ago

Text

next to you; u. keishin

Summary: Keishin Ukai wants to play with Y/N L/N no matter how hard he has to work for it.

Pairings: Keishin Ukai x Male! Reader

Warnings: Swearing and fighting

Word Count: 4,571

Notes: I’m not sure if what this is in terms of angst or fluff. I just wanted Ukai to get some more love, so I wrote him to be in high school. Like all my other things, I’m going to add that I’m new to writing reader inserts, so they may not be all that good.

*****

Y/N always glided down the court as if he could fly, and everyone watched him in awe. He was beautiful with the way he played, because he made everyone else feel so alive that they couldn’t help but want to grow as players or maybe even join volleyball. The ace should do that though, he should motivate others to thrive.

“Give it to me, Koichi-san!” Y/N called out, and the setter set it perfectly to where the h/c haired boy seemed to be flying. It the ball smashed into the ground, no blockers being able to touch it, and he grinned over at the setter. “Hell yeah!”

Keishin watched him from the sideline in awe, like he always did. The boy who flew around the court was something the buzzcut boy wished he could have. Whether it be in volleyball or in friendship or in love; he wished he could have him. Y/N’s smile brightened up the court, and everyone seemed to get even more motivated to do their best.

“I wish I could just play in a game so I can play with L/N-san,” Takinoue said, and some of the players around him agreed.

“He forces everyone to play harder,” Tamura said with a slight sigh. “It could be kind of exhausting to keep up with him.”

“Wouldn’t that be the thrill of it all?” Takinoue asked, excitement slightly in his voice. “You get to see how hard you can actually fight, because he will make you fight.”

Even though Keishin didn’t say anything, he agreed with his friend. Y/N forced people to fight on his level, because when everyone was with him; Karasuno was unstoppable. He had heard his grandfather say how it almost like a miracle to get the outside hitter, because no one flew like he did.

“Don’t give up now!” Y/N screamed at a player that Keishin couldn’t distinguished. There were five other people besides the spiker, so it was hard to realize who was being scolded. “When we win, then you can give up, okay?”

For a second year, the h/c haired boy acted more like the captain than the actual captain. When he looked over at the sidelines, e/c eyes catching Keishin’s brown ones, the setter felt a chill run down his back; the look in his eye could nearly be considered murderous.

Sometimes everyone wondered if Y/N would murder someone to win, and their coach once said it showed that at least someone was dedicated. Even if people knew this, they still wanted to play next to the h/c haired boy to feel the adrenaline he gave.

*****

It was a Friday when Y/N sought out Keishin during lunch. His hands were on his knees as he panted as if he had just ran a marathon. When he looked up at the buzzcut boy, Ukai was sure he would never forget the look in his eyes; desperate and hungry for something that would take the setter a while to fully understand.

“Set to me,” Y/N said as he stood up to look at the other in the eye. “I want to see how high I can fly with you.”

Keishin had been working hard, had even been complimented by his grandfather (who had even once said the only thing he hated was grandson) and everyone had been seeking him out to practice with. He just never expected their beloved ace to be so determined to practice with him as well.

“What if I’m not as good as Fujii-san?” He asked, and the outside hitter chuckled as he shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter who’s better; matters who makes it feel right.”

Ukai had been a spiker once, because he had to be, but it never appealed to him. He didn’t have the same rush that he hot when he saw someone perfectly spike the ball he set.

He noticed how Y/N’s eyes shined as if he had won the lottery every time he spiked one of the setter’s sets. His smile was always so big and contagious that the buzzcut boy found himself smiling too.

“Again,” Y/N demanded, something he did a lot. “Make me fly higher, Keishin.”

“Okay, L/N-san,” he said, his cheeks bright red and the spiker grinned at him as if he had been invited to be on the National Men’s Volleyball Team.

“Call me Y/N.” The spiker chuckled slightly. “It’s only fair, right?”

“Yeah, it’s only fair,” Keishin breathed out. “Now let’s make you fly higher.”

*****

Keishin wasn’t exactly the person who was used to setting to Y/N during practice matches. The beloved ace had been paired up with Fujii since their first year, because they could do attacks that the buzzcut setter could only wish of doing. When he did become used to setting to him during practice matches, they became unstoppable.

He’d watch Y/N stare at his red palm after a particularly strong spike before he’d clench his fist and look up at the setter. His eyes were desperate and hungry like the first time he had asked the other to set to him. Keishin felt so much pride that he never wanted any of it to end. He wanted to stay on the court with Y/N.

“You give Koichi-san a run for his money at times,” Y/N said as they took a break, only for the setter stared at him in confusement only for the h/c haired boy to chuckle slightly. “Don’t look at me like that and just take the compliment.”

Coach Ukai noticed the obvious connection between the two and moved Keishin to be a starter who was switching in and out with Fujii in games. The ginger always glared at the other, because everyone wanted to fight with Y/N, even if they never said. Or even refused to admit it.

“Don’t try to make a move on him,” Fujii said when the two setters were in the club room alone. Keishin wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by the statement. “It’s easy to get caught up in the way he acts when he’s on the court, but he doesn’t give a damn off it.”

“Why do you care what I do and what I don’t do?” Keishin asked as he stared over at the other, who gave him with an annoyed look.

“We all keep getting our hearts broken by him,” the ginger said as he ruffled his hair slightly. “We get our hearts broken without even realizing we were in love with him.”

The buzzcut boy froze, because he wasn’t in love with the h/c haired spiker. Admiration and love were two separate things, and he definitely wasn’t in love with L/N. The silence was filled by Fujii chuckling at the other.

“Don’t worry, you’ll realize it soon enough.” The other setter patted Keishin’s shoulder firmly. “You never know, he could fall in love with you too. He’s quite unpredictable.”

Keishin didn’t process Fujii leaving and that he was alone in the club room. He stared at his cubby with a frightened expression. He couldn’t be in love with Karasuno’s ace, because he was straight; they were both straight. There was that feeling he got in his stomach when they shared smiles after a particularly good spike. Or the way his heart clenched whenever Y/N wanted to eat lunch with him, especially when the spiker took him to the roof because “it’s the best place to eat obviously.”

He wasn’t in love with him and Y/N wasn’t going to be able to break his heart.

****

Keishin was taken off the court during a practice match, but this time it wasn’t like their temporary switch outs they had been doing. His grandfather had a stern look on his face, one that the buzzcut boy had only seen him give to other people when he gently scolded them.

“Keishin,” his grandfather started, and their male manager looked scared. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“What do you mean?” The setter asked, because he really didn’t know. He felt fine, and all of his sets to the spikers were fairly solid.

“You’re not able to keep up with L/N,” coach said calmly, which made it even scarier. “He demands his setter to reach his breaking point faster than he reaches his. You’re too close to yours and we’re barely halfway through the first set, so you started to falter.”

His grandfather could be right, probably actually was, but Keishin had no idea. Maybe he had started to be more cautious because the spiker had been feeling good today. When he felt good, the entire team was required to feel good too; it was how they won.

“Sorry, sir.”

“You’re out for the rest of the match,” Coach Ukai said, his grandson gritting his teeth at the statement. “Go watch Fujii and see how he’s able to keep up with L/N.”

When he went to where the rest of the benchwarmers were, they all looked at him so confused. He always sat on the bench next to their coach and manager. They all let him go behind them, crouch down, and watched him muffle a scream into his hand. He deserved to be on the court, even if he apparently couldn’t keep up with the spiker right now. Keishin would fight harder if it meant he could be on the same court as the other boy.

“Hey, you okay dude?” Takinoue asked as he approached him, and it seemed like he was the only one confident enough to do so.

“I’ve been taken out for the entire game,” Keishin said, and his voice sounded so at ease but his body language was so aggressive. The bleach blonde middle blocker gave him a look of understanding.

“You won’t be fighting next to L/N-san,” the middle blocker said. “You’re used to him by your side, hitting every set you do.”

The buzzcut boy didn’t make a comment, because he didn’t know what to say. It was true that it fucking sucked to not be on the court with Y/N, but it was more than that at the same time. He had started to work so hard to keep up with him; volleyball and school was all that he was he did so he could stay on the court. Was that what he was supposed to say? Was he supposed to admit that he wanted to be next to the outside hitter so badly that it killed him to have to sit out.

“Koichi, stop throwing the ball so fucking high!” Y/N screamed, causing everyone to look over at him as he got into the other’s face. “Just do it how Keishin does it, because I can actually hit it.”

“You hit that one though!” Koichi screamed back. “So, stop acting like you can’t.”

Coach Ukai had to call for a timeout and L/N refused to calm down. He screamed about how tired he was of Koichi trying to dictate how every spiker should play when they all weren’t the same person.

“Stop bitching and just hit the damn ball,” Koichi snapped, and the h/c haired boy looked over at him with a murderous expression.

“If we weren’t doing a match right now, I would’ve fucking decked you already.”

“Calm down right now, you two!” Coach Ukai yelled, and the two boys immediately became quiet. “Do I need to bench you, Y/N? Or are you going to behave?”

E/C eyes looked down at the ground before they looked back up at the older man. They held anger, resentment, and something else that no one knew what it was. Keishin knew the ace just wanted to play; wanted to win. He had told him that, confessed how he knew what he wanted to do on the court and he would fight until he no longer could to get there.

“Sorry, coach,” Y/N said softly. “I’ll calm down.”

He had to put his anger and preference aside so he could keep fighting; keep being on the court. When the timeout was over, L/N became a different person on the court. He encouraged Koichi and the rest of the players on a new level.

“He just wants to stay on the court and fight.”

****

Keishin found Y/N practicing in the gym alone every night after practice. The setter had been made the person to kick the ace out, because everyone said he had a way to get L/N to listen. He was fine with making the other second year leave, but no one realized that.

His brown eyes followed the spiker as he did jump serves, determined to make them service aces. Y/N was always growing and the setter wondered if he would ever stop. Part of him couldn’t actually comprehend the idea of the outside hitter not being able to improve when all he ever saw was him improving.

“Oh, Keishin, it must be time for me to leave if you’re here,” the h/c haired boy said with a sigh and a nervous smile. He never acted like this before, so what was going on?

“I can give you a couple more minutes if you’d like,” Keishin said as he leaned against the gym wall. “I’d join you, but I’m pretty exhausted after today’s practice.”

They had to run up the mountain near the school, because their endurance wasn’t good enough according to his grandfather’s opinion. Somehow the spiker in front of him didn’t seem to be tired in the slightest, and he was jealous of the energy he had.

“I’m done, so don’t worry,” Y/N said as he put the volleyball he had using. “It must be annoying for you to come get every night.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be our ace if you didn’t practice like you do.” Keishin paused as he looked from the floor to his teammate. “I don’t find it annoying; if I did, then I’d make someone else come get you.”

“Then why have you been acting like you no longer want to be on the same court as me?” The h/c haired volleyball player asked with a tilt of his head. “You even got yourself benched at the last practice match. Do you want to be a bench warmer again?”

Keishin didn’t move or talk, because he didn’t think the other would read so much into this. It made sense for him too, because Y/N had always been the person to somehow read people fairly well but let them still have their secrets. The setter wondered if maybe the other knew he was starting to fall for him. There was no beautiful explanation as to why, but just the fact it felt good to be near the other and he liked how the spiker laughed as well.

“Is it true you keep breaking our teammates hearts?” Keishin finally asking the question he had wanted to for weeks. Koichi’s words had clung to him as if they were clothes soaked by the rain.

“I wasn’t aware of doing that, so it must be unintentional if I was doing it,” Y/N said, his voice casual but eyes held a kind of vulnerability that scared the setter. “Only one person has confessed to me, so I guess I’ll take credit for that one. Is there a reason why you’re asking?”

“Someone warned me you’re too different off the court to actually fall in love,” The buzzcut boy said, and e/c eyes trailed his face as if he was searching for honesty in his features.

“I guess you could say I am two different people; one person on the court and another person off the court, but you need to be when it comes to sports,” Y/N said before he sighed, obviously not enjoying the conversation.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, on the court, I know what I want and how I’m going to get it, but it’s different off the court because life isn’t made up of certain plays and combo attacks.” The ace walked over to the other to lean on the wall next to him. “I also don’t demand attention like I do on the court. I don’t want to be seen unless there’s a volleyball in my hand.”

“Is that why you break hearts? You don’t know what you want off the court, so you don’t know you want them,” Keishin said as he turned to face the other and noticed how there was little space between them. Maybe a foot, but that seemed so small when Y/N was next to you.

“I imagine I break hearts because I don’t want them,” Y/N said as he chuckled softly. “I know what I want, but I don’t have a play on how to get him to really notice me. It’s different when someone sees me as the person I am on the court, but not as the one I am normally.”

“You shouldn’t need a play to get him to notice you. You are kind of hard to miss.”

Y/N pouted as he pushed at the other’s shoulder. Blush covered his cheeks and Keishin wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh because Koichi had probably wanted at this at some point, but never did. Or at least never had according to the setter’s knowledge.

“Are you insulting me, Keishin?” The spiker asked, his pout only growing more and more.

“No, it’s a compliment, dumbass,” the setter said, only to get another shove at his shoulder from the nickname. “Sorry, let me say it again; it’s a compliment.”

“Well, if you keep complimenting me, I’m going to fall more in love with you.” The buzzcut student choked slightly at the comment. This was actually unexpected. “That was a bit forward, sorry. I guess this is a confession, even though you most likely don’t like me the same.”

“No, I do like you,” Keishin said as he scratched his neck and looked away from the other, not sure what to say. “It’s just kind of weird to like guys, since you’re the first one I’ve ever liked.”

“That’s okay, I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want to,” L/N said, and even though the younger Ukai didn’t know if he believed him.

You force me to my limit every time we play together. You force everyone to play as hard as you do, even though all of us struggle to. Even though you know you demand attention on the court, do you know how much?

“Fujii told me I was useless to you now because I had been taken off the court,” Keishin said as he looked back at the other. “Told me that it was just heartbreak waiting to happen.”

The buzzcut boy had partly agreed with the ginger setter. Y/N had always seemed like the kind of person who refused to play with someone who wasn’t valuable to the team. He had acted like that with Keishin for the last year and a half, so why wouldn’t he act like that again?

“Koichi is just mad I rejected him as a setter and a boyfriend, so don’t listen to him,” the other said as he tilted his head to touch the gym wall. “Tell me, what do you want to do? About this, not anything else because this is the topic at hand.”

The setter chuckled at how the other clarified, obviously nervous. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen the other nervous, because Y/N was always confident in everything he was doing. Or that he had seen. The spiker always gave his all and it made him seem like he was overflowing with confidence.

“I’m not sure,” Ukai said softly. “What are our options.”

Well, there’s dating or just being friends. I’m fine with either. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Maybe Y/N really was different off the court, even though he had slightly already known that. Eating lunch every day with someone for two months made it obvious who they really were, even if it was just barely. It was so weird to think he wanted others to be comfortable when he was the person who forced others to do what he wanted.

“We can date,” Keishin said slowly. “I just don’t know if I want to be public about it.”

Y/N reached out and touched his shoulder, comforting him, and smiled at him.

“That’s fine,” he said, his smile so soft Ukai could feel it as if a feather touched him so delicately. “We can work up to it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Y/N dropped his hand and walked away before he turned to the other and clapped his hands. He then grabbed the container holding the volleyballs with an expectant look. The setter walked over to him and helped him put them all up.

“Let’s leave now,” the outside hitter told him, and he nodded before he grabbed the other’s hand for a moment before dropping this.

He was dating the ace of Karasuno and it was kind of crazy to him.

*****

It was 5 am when Keishin gets a call, and he grumbled slightly until he saw the caller ID. He ran a hand through his bleached hair, shocked at seeing the name on his phone. The coach answered it, realizing it won’t answer itself.

“Hello,” he said, voice groggy and rough from being woken up. There was rustling on the other side of line.

“Shit, I woke you up didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I needed to wake up soon anyways,” Keishin said, wishing he could see the person calling him. It had been years since they had seen each other, and the blonde missed the other.

“If you say so. I didn’t mean to though; I just forget Japan and the United Kingdom have different time zones.” A chuckle from the man on the other side of the line filled the coach’s ears. “I do have a reason why I called though, but I can call later if you want me to.”

Part of the blonde setter wanted to tell the other to call him later, because that meant he would get to hear his voice even more than he would if he didn’t. That was stupid, because he imagined the other had things to do most likely.

“No, it’s okay, Y/N,” Ukai said, the name felt weird to say since it had been so long.

“I found out through Yukinari that you’re the new coach of Karasuno,” Y/N said, and his voice seemed awkward, but it was probably because he lived in London now. “Were you planning on never telling me?”

“I was conned into it by the brat players,” Keishin said, and he knew that he was starting to love coaching the Karasuno team. “You never told me you finally published your novel.”

“My novel doesn’t mean shit compared to Karasuno going to nationals.” More rustling on the Y/N’s side, making the blonde wonder what he was doing. “Also, those first year’s quick attack is fucking insane.”

“You’ve seen our matches?” Ukai asked, not hiding the shock in his voice and the old outside hitter laugh slightly.

“Of course, I have. Makoto downloads the recordings they take at the tournaments and emails them to me.” More rustling and a sigh. “Katherine, I’m on the phone. Stop rolling around my bed. Sorry, my roommate is annoying.”

The rustling had been from Y/N’s roommate though. The old setter smiled, remembering how annoyed the other would get whenever he got on his bed. Always told him that his bed was a place for sleep and homework, not moving all over the place.

“No worries. So, you like our freak duo? Anything else the beloved ace likes from Karasuno’s national qualifying team.”

“Your ace, I think it’s Asahi, is crazy powerful. I wish I had been powerful like him. Also, that captain of yours holds the ground down so well, your grandfather would’ve loved him on his team. He would’ve loved all of them, especially your libero.”

Ukai wanted to say how it was the team that would’ve been able to keep up with Y/N; the team he deserved. He wanted to tell him how he had been so much more powerful than Asahi may ever be, but the other would only ever deny that. He denied every compliment after his ACL injury that took him out from the second half of their first set to the rest of the year. They lost and his grandfather always said it was because none of them had the drive or fire to compete without the injured outside hitter.

“I’m going to come to nationals,” Y/N said and it made Keishin choke on his own salvia. The h/c boy had been in Japan for nearly 10 years now after he moved to the United Kingdom to study abroad and then never came back. “Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Ukai exclaimed a little too loudly, excitement getting the best of him. “Maybe you could show them a few things.”

“I can try, but I’m really rusty. I’ll be in Japan for two weeks though. I can get work done there too, so it’s not a problem.” Y/N chuckled softly and Keishin could basically see him shaking his head. “I’ll also get to see you, so that’s a plus.”

Even after their breakup in their third year, Y/N was always flirty and somewhat affectionate with him. The blonde man assumed it was because the other didn’t want to actually breakup but being around someone so into volleyball when he couldn’t be was something that he just wasn’t able to do. Instead he had started writing, forced his ex-boyfriend to read everything he wrote, and ended up studying abroad in the United Kingdom for creative writing.

“It will be nice to see you,” Ukai admitted with a sigh. “You’ll have to talk to everyone we went to high school with though.”

A groan was heard on the other side of the line. Of course, the once beloved ace of Karasuno didn’t want to talk to anyone he had once played with.

“There was something else I wanted to tell you, still volleyball related, but not nationals,” the h/c haired man said, avoiding hearing who would be at nationals that he’d have to talk to. “Your freak duo, it’s Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shouyou, right? I can’t remember who plays what position though.”

“Yeah, Kageyama is the setter and Hinata is a middle blocker, but mainly spiker,” Keishin said, unsure of what the other was about to say. “Why?”

“In a way, I was like Kageyama and you were Hinata.” A laugh that wasn’t Y/N was heard on the other line, which made Ukai assume it was Katherine. “I controlled the court like Kageyama does, but you were free like Hinata is. We made a really amazing team.”

“No, you’re wrong. You’re both of them and I bet you’ll see that when you come to nationals.”

Y/N chuckled slightly before he let out an irritated sigh. There was muffled talking and then a groan.

“Sorry, babe, I have to go. Katherine is complaining about being hungry. See you soon, okay?”

Ukai’s heart fluttered at the pet name he hadn’t heard in years. It made him feel stupid really to still be so affected by someone he hadn’t had real contact with in so long.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

The call ended and Keishin let out a deep breath as he grinned.

Y/N was coming back to Japan.

#ukai keishin #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu fic #ukai keishin x reader #ukai keishin x male reader #male reader insert #male reader

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aliciameade · 4 years ago

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“The Great Indoors”

Author: aliciameade Rating: G Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Beca and Chloe accidentally get locked inside an R.E.I. (An outdoor activities supply store, for those unfamiliar.) Hijinks ensue.

This one goes out to @beyond-bechloe for their generous donation to the @ppfandomdrive! Thank you for your support!

Also on AO3

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Beca didn’t consider herself particularly outdoorsy (she could get sunburned at night and she was allergic to every type of stinging insect, among other inconveniences), but she enjoyed fewer shopping excursions than those to R.E.I. to be Chloe’s helper whenever she had an upcoming trip. Beca was in charge of the shopping cart and telling Chloe whether or not the gear she was trying on looked cute while still being functional.

And Beca liked the gear and supplies. It was cool how there were so many specialized shoes and backpacks and jackets for all manner of activities. She wouldn’t mind being less prone to emergencies to be able to try something new once in a while.

Plus, she kind of liked Chloe’s dedication to always trying to convince Beca to join her on her next adventure.

She also liked Chloe pouting until Beca admitted whatever she was trying on was indeed cute. Beca always thinks Chloe’s cute but it’s not like she can tell her that all the time. That would be weird. Friends don’t do that.

“Who are you going with?” she asks as Chloe stands in front of a display of kayaking gear.

“The same crew I went out to Zion with. They’re always encouraging everyone to bring a friend. You should totes come with me.”

Beca surveys the kayaks leaning against the wall and visions of flipping over, getting stuck, and drowning flash through her mind. “Pass,” she says quickly. “Maybe something more...terrestrial.”

“Okay,” Chloe says with a shrug. She never argues with Beca over it, but she does always re-extend the invitation. “What do you think: black or pink?” she continues as she plucks two helmets off the display to turn and hold them up for Beca’s opinion.

“Let’s see ‘em in action,” she answers, gesturing for Chloe to try them on.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“What kind of adventure would you be down for?” Chloe asks, somewhat unexpectedly, as they meander through displays and racks of camping gear. They’ve already picked out everything on her list but still find themselves browsing. “When you said ‘more terrestrial,’” she adds. “Camping?”

Beca’s about to answer when the PA system interrupts, informing shoppers the store will be closing in 15 minutes. She waits until they’re finished.

“Yeah, camping, I guess,” she says with a vague wave of her hand toward the staged campground the store has set up to display their wide variety of tents, coolers, chairs, and portable grills. “Just maybe not in the middle of nowhere like you do.”

She knows her answer excites Chloe by the way her eyes light up and her back straightens. “I don’t even own a tent because I’m always sharing with someone else on the trip.” She’s already on her hands and knees crawling through the entrance of a small tent before Beca can argue.

Not that she has a point to argue.

Chloe’s kneeling inside and looking out at Beca expectantly. “Come on! Let’s try this one.”

Beca just gives a shake of her head and kneels down to crawl into the tent, too. She hears Chloe zip the flap behind her and then she’s being dragged down until they’re lying side by side.

“We fit!” Chloe declares as she makes it a point to spread out and take up space until she’s crowding Beca.

“Obviously we fit,” she says, trying not to laugh as Chloe’s elbow digs into her ribs until she’s forced to roll onto her side to escape it. “It’s a two-person tent. We are two people.” She should have known better to turn, though, because the second she does, Chloe’s on her like a magnet, making Beca her little spoon as she does so often.

Not that she minds Chloe’s propensity to be close to Beca.

She kind of loves it, in fact.

“See, and we can cuddle for body heat if it gets chilly overnight.”

“Right,” Beca says, letting herself smile when she feels the way Chloe’s almost nuzzling her. It drives her crazy, too. Chloe is so physically affectionate with Beca, more so than anyone Beca’s ever dated, and she and Chloe are definitively not dating. It feels like they are, though, from the way they check in with one another throughout the day if they’re apart and how they download their days when they’re together to their Co-Captain Conferences which is just a serious-sounding name that allows them to lock themselves in Chloe’s room under the guise of working on the Bellas’ next set when they’re actually watching movies or talking or napping and not getting interrupted.

The way Beca’s heart aches when Chloe does go on her weeklong excursions...that, too, makes it feel a lot like they’re dating.

But...they’re not.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

It’s the last thought that floats through her mind before her eyes are fluttering open to near darkness.

She’s disoriented and her shoulder and hip ache from whatever hard surface she’s lying on. The only thing she does recognize is the scent, sound, and feel of Chloe asleep behind her and she jostles her until she’s startling awake, too.

“Hmm, what?” Chloe says, voice gravelly with sleep.

“We fell asleep in the tent,” Beca says once her brain stitches the events together. Once she sits up and glances out of the tent’s mesh window and is met with the dimly lit retail floor, her heart stops. “Chloe?”

“Hmm?” she says through a yawn as she sits up, too.

“What time is it?”

She watches Chloe pull her phone out of her back pocket—Beca’s own phone is in her purse which...she realizes with additional terror...was left in the cart before they decided to try the tent—and check it. “10:34.”

Beca inhales at that and holds her breath, waiting for Chloe to connect the dots, too.

“Oh, my gosh, it’s 10:34!”

“And it’s dark in here.” Beca leans forward to unzip the tent’s flap and crawl out, relieved to find her purse in the cart, everything right where they left it by some miracle. “Chlo, the store’s closed.”

She watches Chloe crawl out, too, and stand to survey everything, just like Beca’s doing. “There must be a security guard or something,” Chloe says confidently as she starts walking toward the entrance.

There is no security guard, they find. They also decide to not try the doors because setting off an alarm might be really bad. A phone call to the company’s customer support number instructs them to call back during the hours of 7:00 AM and 6:00 PM.

“Okay, we don’t need to panic,” Beca says when she watches Chloe start to do her panic-pacing. “We’re fine. We’re safe.”

“We’re trapped in here!” Chloe screeches.

It makes Beca flinch and she grabs Chloe by the forearms when she paces past again. “Chloe, chill out!”

Chloe gulps and Beca can see the fear in her eyes.

“Chill, okay?” she says, lowering her voice. “They’ll open in the morning and we can leave. They have bathrooms and water, and I know you have at least one granola bar in your purse, right?”

Chloe nods and her eyes start to look a bit less wild.

“Good.” Beca smiles, and then lets herself smile bigger. “We’re locked in a store.”

Chloe whines. “I know, Beca!”

“No, Chloe. We’re locked in a store!” she turns them so Chloe’s facing toward the sporting goods supplier’s floor, devoid of other shoppers and employees. “Didn’t you ever dream about this as a kid?”

She can tell Chloe’s considering it, thinking about it, until a smile starts to tug at her lips. “Okay, yeah.”

“Then, come on!” Beca grabs her hand to run—not out of necessity but out of excitement—back into the depths of the store. “I want to play with everything. What first?”

“Bikes! Let’s get bikes,” Chloe says pointing off to their left. “This place is huge; we can get around faster!”

“Yes, yes—I love the way you think.”

Armed with speedy transportation, they make it a point to visit every department, trying on hiking boots and life jackets and snowboards. Chloe decides to document the adventure on her Instagram so every department needs to have its own photoshoot.

Eventually, they end up back in the paddling department and Beca’s helping Chloe maneuver a massive tandem kayak down from where it’s leaning against the wall.

“Get in,” Chloe says, gesturing at the front seat while she lowers herself into the back after grabbing a couple of paddles. “I’ll show you how easy it is.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Beca says as she takes the offered paddle and sits down, “but we’re not in the water right now.”

“Shush, I know. But I can show you the stroke.”

Beca can’t help the amused snort that escapes her.

“You just made that dirty.”

“Did not.”

“Yes, you did.” Chloe sounds amused. “Okay, put your hands where the grippy parts are on the paddle.”

Beca does as she’s told and then jumps a little when Chloe’s voice is suddenly close.

“Good.” Chloe’s arms suddenly frame Beca’s, her hands just outside of each of her own. “It’s just this motion.” Then they’re moving, Chloe’s push and pull directing Beca. “See how easy?”

Something about the moment makes Beca’s voice catch for a second and she has to swallow. “Yeah. Something tells me it’s not as easy in a river.”

“It’s really not difficult. Would I lie to you?”

“No, I guess not.”

Chloe hums, happy with Beca’s answer, and then her presence retreats. “Keep going; I need to take a picture. Actually, I’m going to do a video!”

“Of course you are,” Beca laughs but carries on for Chloe’s entertainment.

It’s around 2:00 AM when they’re both yawning, having eaten Chloe’s emergency stash of granola bars and a bag of gummy bears Beca swiped from the checkout area, promising Chloe she’d pay for them tomorrow with the rest of their items. They return the bicycles to their display and wander back to the camping section.

“You know, if there was ever a store to get locked in, this was a pretty good option,” Chloe says as she sits down on the edge of a fully inflated air mattress. It’s the floor’s display model, but it’s a bed nonetheless.

“So true.” Beca follows, settling on the slightly wobbly mattress next to Chloe.

Usually, like in the tent, she would flip onto her side, her back to Chloe to settle in for sleep.

For some reason, this time she turned the other way to face Chloe. Maybe because they weren’t finished talking—they didn’t yet have a plan for the morning, aka what to tell the first person who discovers them—or maybe Beca just wanted to look at Chloe for a few more seconds before going to sleep.

“I can’t believe this happened,” Chloe says with a giggle once they’re both settled.

“I know, right? So cool.”

Chloe’s quiet for what feels like a second too long before she says, “Thank you for calming me down. You know how I can get worked up about stuff.”

Beca smiles gently. “Yeah, of course, dude. You know I got your back.”

“I know you do.”

Chloe’s eyes are on Beca’s and the silence between them is suddenly heavy. Something about it makes Beca’s heart start to race. Chloe’s just looking at her not saying anything and Beca’s about to ask why she’s staring when Chloe interrupts her.

“Can I kiss you?”

Beca’s not sure she heard correctly. It’s hard to hear over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears. She debates asking Chloe to repeat herself, but she doesn’t want her to backpedal if she thinks Beca’s response means she wasn’t okay with it. Because she is so, soooo okay with it.

And if Beca did mishear, then she’ll deal with whatever she’s about to agree to.

“Yes.”

She didn’t mishear.

She can’t help the gasp that comes when Chloe’s lips are suddenly on hers. They’re soft and gentle but confident in their purpose and Beca is sure to kiss her back once her mind catches up with it.

Chloe pulls back after a few seconds and even in the dim lighting, she can tell Chloe’s blushing. She knows she is, too. “Was that okay?” Chloe asks, eyes wide and teeth tugging nervously at the lip that was just pressed against Beca’s.

Beca lets herself start to smile; the shock is subsiding and happiness is starting to rush into its place. “Why did you stop?” she asks, bringing her hand up between them to tug on Chloe’s shirt.

It’s not hard enough to actually pull Chloe in but it gets her point across and she’s still smiling when Chloe’s gleeful laugh gets muffled between their second kiss, one that is less about determining if it’s okay and a lot more about how their tongues move together.

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

They’re roused by blinding fluorescent lights a few hours later and share the story of their accidental lock-in with the very confused and highly suspicious morning shift. Chloe begs the manager-on-duty to not reprimand whoever was responsible for ensuring all guests were out of the store before locking up, blaming themselves for not paying attention to the time.

Eventually, they’re allowed to leave and pay for what they’d been shopping for yesterday, plus the two-person tent (which Chloe had run back to grab off the shelf and returned with a wink).

“Okay, what’s with the tent?” Beca asks once they’ve loaded up the back of Chloe’s car in the completely empty parking lot and sat down.

“We are totes going camping and making out under the stars.”

“Oh, are we?” Beca asks with amusement as she buckles her seatbelt.

“Yep,” Chloe says, taking advantage of Beca’s proximity to direct her right up and into a kiss. “If that’s okay with you?” she asks, eyes a little softer so Beca knows she’s being earnest.

“Yeah, okay,” she nods. “But I’m not sure it’s fair for you to ask me after you kiss me.”

“So I should withhold kisses until you answer?” Chloe says with a grin as she starts the car and drives toward the exit and street that will lead them back to the house.

“That doesn’t seem fair either,” Beca says with a thoughtful pout.

“Kinda sounds like I get my way if kisses are involved.”

Beca starts to object but instead, just smiles and looks out the passenger side window. “Yeah, it kinda does sound that way.

The End

#bechloe #bechloe fic #fanfic #pitch perfect #ppfandomdrive

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years ago

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The Understudy

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in Vienna, one of the iconic capitals of opera at the time of Mozart. An emerging singer gets the chance to be an understudy in the latest Mozart’s discussed opera Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), that premiered at the Burgtheater in Vienna on 1 May 1786, w and play the pants role of the page Cherubino. Preparing for the role doesn’t quite go as planned… .

I took the liberty to add a few Italian words every now and there so here are all the useful translations that might come in handy as you read: cara (dear, female adjective), una meraviglia (a true wonder).

Tagging: @scottishqueer

Previous wlw miniseries: Ancient Greece, Italian Renaissence, Belle Epoque Paris, Sixties.

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

____________________________

"So...will you do it?" The voice is calm just like the honeyed smile on her lips, but the look in the primadonna's eyes is unmistakable: the great Adriana Ferrarese can't wait to see me out of the door. She's a seasoned professional, she knows how to conceal her displease but I'm not dumb: a jewelled hand rested over Da Ponte's tight and eyes following every single move I make, every single breath I take, she's clearly conveying that my presence is no longer welcome here. It never was, I think: it surely wasn't her idea to invite me here today! Has she tried to dissuade the Maestro from summoning me, I wonder? I'm surprised she failed: you know what they say, feminine wiles can work miracles on men, make them change their minds like a vain girl changes clothes yet...here I am. And she's fuming underneath her well practiced poise. Poor Ferrarese, my blonde curls, my youth must be a threat to her especially in front of him. Ah, I knew that the rumours were true: she's the Italian operatic librettist's mistress! Cunning little devil...of course she gets all the best roles now. Before everyone else.

I join her game and pretend not to notice the subliminal messages she keeps throwing me. I fan myself nonchalantly, pondering the offer I've just received. I am a bit confused: I really don't know what to think of it or how to take it. "Let me get this straight, Maestro" I say, ignoring her and addressing Da Ponte. "You beg me to come here with great haste and ask me to be a last minute understudy for a...page role?" I may not be as famous as his mistress but it's an insult! True, my career hasn't reached its peak yet but I'm not the new girl desperate to get a role: I have adoring admirers throwing flowers and screaming my name whenever I walk into the stage after the grand finale. Who does he think he's talking to? He must understand my disappointment because he's quick to reassure me. "Miss Constanze, Cherubino is not a simple page" he smiles apologetically. "The whole opera revolves around the world of counts and servants, you know Herr Mozart is an innovator, an unconventional spirit...if I remember correctly, you have already worked with him" "Correct" I concede. I'm curious to see where this is going, how he will convince me to accept this. "Well, this new opera has already been a success and trust me: the people of Vienna won't tire of it anytime soon! And the role we kindly asked you to be an understudy for is the most loved by our audience, I assure you. Ask around if you don't believe me: those who attended the opera are head over heels for the Count's page, they recall his scenes, sing his arias underneath their breath...the audience is crazy for him! That's why we couldn't ask just anyone to replace the original singer, but only a refined, talented woman like you, Miss Konstanze" There's a note of pride in his voice. I must give him, it's not surprising that there servant or unconventional roles in Mozart's operas - in The Abduction from the Seraglio I played one of the harem girls - but by the brief description he gave me of the plot I cannot bring myself to understand how the audience can fall in love with a page who doesn't even have an aria for the whole third act and is constantly sidelined. It doesn't make sense: it's a recipe for oblivion to my ears. But he's right: the Wedding is the talk of the town so I should probably say yes anyway, even if no, I don't enjoy the idea of being sidelined. I mean, we all want to glow on stage and bask in the light and audience's adoration. We want their applauses meant for us alone, ringing in our ears when the curtains raise for one last blessed time, we want flowers thrown at us, we want glory. And I am not sure this Cherubino will be my ally on that front if there are two major romances in the main plot already. And even if the audience showed a liking for the page, well I must remember I am not the first singer so my performance will not avoid comparisons. The Maestro speaks again, derailing my line of thoughts. "You see, dear Miss Constanze, Cherubino is not a main character yet he is essential to the plot: without him the whole story wouldn't make sense! One could say that he bears the comedic side of the opera over his young shoulders and even if he doesn't get as many arias as other characters, oh, his are as sweet as cherries, una meraviglia! No wonder the audience loves him...and the restricted number of arias to study might help you prepare properly within such a short notice if you kindly offer your help-" "I would have prepared properly even if I had the double amount of arias within such a short notice, caro Maestro" I interrupt him, just in case he forgot who he is talking to, again. He bows his head, dramatically placing a hand on his heart in display of apology. "But of course, your outstanding professionalism is not questioned here, Miss. To prove it, let me tell you that Herr Mozart was particularly happy when I suggested your name for poor Dorotea's understudy". His mistress' smile is now so tight I have to summon every ounce of professionalism to refrain myself from bursting into a loud insolent laughter. "That's incredibly kind of you, Maestro: I really don't know how to thank you" I purr instead, unable to resist: how could I miss a chance to tease - and piss off! - the primadonna? La Ferrarese throws me a side look I will never forget: I wonder if she has a dagger hidden underneath her skirt and will chase me in the streets in the heat of jealousy when I turn my back at her. Sounds like a scene out of one of those Italian operas, I consider, amused. Do Italians do that offstage too? She only has to dare though: I am younger than her and I have claws too. "Say yes then, Miss" he proposes, radiant. "If you ask me, Herr Mozart thinks you are the best choice and the perfect Cherubino. Say yes, cara Constanze". His face is an expectant plea and I have a feeling that if his mistress wasn't here, he would be begging me on his knees to accept this role. Honestly, I don't know what to make of Herr Mozart's comment about me being just "perfect" to pass for a boy...am I not feminine enough for him in my skirts, tight corset and jewellery a wealthy admirer keeps giving? Whatever. That man is a genius maybe but he's certainly a weirdo. But I think I should accept: it's not the most flattering offer but no one reached the top without taking an understudy role at least once. And so here I am, a week later, in the room of one of Da Ponte's personal friends and composer to help me prepare for the new performance. I don't have much time, not even a month, but his flattery won me. I can do this. I must admit that I'm secretly happy to know that Herr Mozart won't direct the new revivals: he's a brilliant composer and musician but I still remember his wandering hands. I don't think any woman who worked with him - or simply has been around him for more than a bunch of minutes, I wager - got away without a pinch or a breast squeeze. I fail to understand why so many girls fall madly in love with him or at least confess they can't resist his charm. Even his wife still giggle like a child and melt in front of his "Wolfie", despite his endless and well known - and rather squalid, if you ask me - affairs! I mean, not that this Melchiorri is any different: by the so very discreet looks he keeps throwing at my décolleté or by the way his hands linger a bit too much on my hips when he insists to fix my posture, I bet he wouldn't mind me as his mistress. Another lecherous wop, excellent. I've been around so many by now that I know them by heart: honeyed words, usually blabs a lot in a dreamy voice of how they miss Venice or whatever dear hometown they come from and how much you remind them of this or that flower or woman of their childhood. Too many compliments, strong accent hoping you would fall for their exoticism, fine clothing. Just like Mr. Melchiorri. He's from Milan and is a close friend of Salieri. Sometimes I cannot help but wonder if we let too many Italians here in Vienna: sadly, so far they rule the world of the opera and our Emperor is head over heels for them. Ah, better not tell the Empress> she might throw ond hell of a jealousy tantrum! Melchiorri is very gallant, almost regal even if he loses his composure when he speaks of music. He often asks to excuse his passionate temperament with an apologetic smile but I can't shake my mind that this is just a subtle hint to another passionate temperament he would die to show me if the lingering stares he gives me, mesmerised, as I bite the Italian delights he has ready for me - "delivered directly for you, mia cara, from Italy" - every time I visit him for our private sessions are any indication. They're chestnut chocolate truffles with a pinch of brandy, I wager, covered in withe chocolate with a ruby cherry on top. They're called "capezzoli di Venere", that is nipples of Venus, he revealed one day, a mischievous smile on his face: he was probably hoping to shock me or see me blush profusely. Instead, I barked out a laughter and took a generous bite. I regretted it when he bit his lip clearly refraining himself for making another move. But at least he's a good teacher, I make progresses fast. I've been around too many Melchiorris and Herr Mozarts to be bothered. I mean, obviously I'm bothered that most men thinks we opera singers are just harlots in fancier dresses when we broke our backs studying languages, music and singing hard since a very early age. We didn't sacrifice the best years of our lives only to be mistaken for mannequins with a melodious voice when we sing the arias they wrote. But that's what it is and I must focus now. And it's so difficult at times with men like these. Just like when one day the door of his studio slams open out of the blue while I'm rehearsing an aria and a little boy of three, four years maybe runs inside laughing. He's visibly proud of evading whoever was asked to look after him. True to his "passionate temperament", Melchiorri is suddenly furious. He barely looks at the child and shouts out the name of the unfortunate servant before profusely apologise to me. A terrified young maid comes running and soon chaos takes hold of the room: Melchiorri alternates between tight apologetic smiles in my direction and not so gallant curses he thinks I do not understand to the the poor maid who chases the cheeky little boy with great effort but little success. I must admit it's rather amusing even if I'm wasting my time. Suddenly I have an idea. When finally the maestro shuts up to catch breath, I sing an impromptu elaborate thrill at full voice. The little boy freezes and turns towards in awe while the maid wraps her arms around him: caught! Melchiorri needs a moment to process what happened while the girl flashes me a quick, grateful smile. "There, emergency solved" I announce, beaming. "Can we proceed now, Maestro?"

#wlw writing project #wlw writing #wlw miniseries #original work #lgbtqa+#vienna #opera

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imagine-nation20 · 5 years ago

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Freedom

Summary: You and Jaskier have been meeting wherever you both go, only to spend fleeting moments together before parting again, leaving you colder than ever. Just when you think you might lose hope forever, you see him again.

Requested By: @ultracolorfulnerdcollection

Request: Hi there, Could you write Jaskier x Fem reader when he falls in love, but true love like he never has before and the keep finding each other having to let go of eachother. And the last time they find each other they do something crazy because they would not be able to bear departing from each other anymore. (All the fluff in the world, enough space to add smut if you wished to). I hope it inspires you Thank youuu

A/N: I actually loved this request, because ever since watching the show, I’ve sort of seen the whole ‘connected by destiny’ thing as an almost soulmate(platonic or otherwise) concept, and Soulmate AUs are my favorite, so… I was really excited about this.

~~~

The first time you met Jaskier, you were both teenagers. Your family was nobility, but you often traveled from your homes to kingdoms, helping with wars, uprisings, and other fighting matters. Your family was famous for their fighters, even going as far as to train any woman as well. That included yourself.

The party your father had been hired to protect as well as attend was boring. Most of the nobles talked about politics or arranged marriages, some even mentioning their latest affairs. It was a miracle no one had started a fight yet. You cringed at the thought of having to stop a fight between drunk nobles and royalty.

A boy, no older than you with shiny brown hair and bright blue eyes sat next to you at a table, holding out his hand. You eyed it wearily, not sure what he was up to, though you had some idea.

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, but you may call me Jaskier” He introduced himself, bowing as well as he could while seated. You took his hand, deciding to humor him, and with a gentle smile, you returned the favor. He kissed the back of your hand, eyes alight with mischief.

“What brings you to my corner of the room, Julian?” You said, purposefully ignoring his offer to call him by a nickname. He rose a brow, smile widening at your sly look.

“Only your beauty, My Lady, and the hope of sharing a dance with you,”

And so you did. You and the boy danced for most of the night, only stopping to escape the party and find your way to a balcony, laughter escaping into the night air.

“And tell me, oh wise Julian, when you achieve your dream of becoming a bard, what will you write songs about? Heroic tales? Daring quests?” You teased, leaning back against the railing.

“Love Ballads,” Julian muttered, staring at you. The implications of his words made your cheeks heat up, and a shy smile to grace your features.

“Do you tell that to all the people you meet?” You asked, tilting your head. Julian chuckled, looking down to the ground before meeting your eyes once more.

“No, just you,” He whispers, taking a step closer. You follow, staring into his eyes. Your father’s voice calls your name, and you pull away, barely pecking Julian on the cheek before bidding him a good night and rushing to your father.

The next time you meet Jaskier, you are older, and traveling with a small group of you father’s men to protect a village from some monster. It is then that you also meet Geralt of Rivia, the famous witcher, and butcher of blaviken. It is also then that you hear Jaskier sing for the first time. His voice is soft, words like a delicate breeze brushing over the tavern.

“I am weak, my love,” He sighs out. “And I am wanting.”

He was right. Love Ballads were most definitely his strongest talent. As the song comes to an end, Jaskier looks up, eyes meeting yours still stood in the entrance, and his face visible brightens, smile blinding. With a quick apology and a rushed goodnight, he leaves to tavern goers hanging, rushing to you and ignoring your men, who all reach for their swords. With a wave of your hand, they calm, and you are quickly pulled into a hug.

Jaskier practically crushes you within his grasp, and you’re surprised at how strong he is.

“It had been too long, Julian.” You murmur, pulling away from his arms. He smiles at you, hands resting on your biceps.

“So it has, and much has happened since we last spoke. I’m sure you’ve heard the song.” He moved to offer you his arm, leading you into the tavern and towards a table in the back. You wave your men off, following Jaskier, completely entrance by his words.

“I have, indeed,” You looked to the table, seeing a white haired man sitting there, scowl on his face. “This must be the famous Geralt of Rivia.”

It was a wonder you hadn’t met him yet, as you two most definitely ran in the same circles. You had even arrived in the town of Blaviken after the famous slaughter in the market, hearing the stories of the Butcher.

“Hmm.” Was the only acknowledgement Geralt gave you looking at Jaskier and your intertwined arms. “I am not in the mood, Jaskier.”

“You’re never in the mood for anything, Geralt,” Jaskier muttered, waving his hand towards me. “This is Lady (Y/N) (L/N).”

Geralt seemed to recognize the name, but still didn’t say much on the subject. A ‘hmm’, was his only response. Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“You could show a bit more tact, Geralt,” Jaskier complained.

“Really, it’s fine, Julian,” Geralt seemed surprised at the name, quirking a brow at you. “I’m sure Geralt is tired from traveling a slaying monsters. As am I. I was planning on heading straight to a room,”

Jaskier perked up at this, nudging you slightly with a sly look. “May I join you, Lady (Y/N)?”

You laughed, shaking your head and releasing Jaskier. “Not so fast, Julian,” He sighed at the sound of his name, “I know your tricks, as good as they may be… though, you might catch me early in the morning before we leave for Cintra.”

Jaskier didn’t end up catching you, having overslept. He only heard the receding hoofbeats of your men as he roused from sleep, disappointed, but not very surprised. Geralt had him walking all day yesterday, and the exhaustion had started to show.

The third time you meet Jaskier, your father is talking with a nobleman about the possibility of your engagement to his son.

You hadn’t been happy during the entirety of the gathering, baffled at your father’s sudden interest with you marrying.

“You're older now, and people are starting to question your lack of a husband. They see you galavanting around with hordes of soldiers, and they talk,” Your father gripped your shoulders, pulling you to him in a hug. “I don’t want this just as much as you, but I won’t have people calling you dirty names. If you can find someone suitable who you want to marry instead, you can, but if not, I will accept the nobleman’s offer.”

There was no other option, and you knew it. Your father had your best interests at heart, and you were sure this boy would be a fine husband, but he wasn’t him. Your sweet bard, who would strum his lute and spin words of gold, just in the hope of seeing you smile at him. Your bard, who you had never spent more than a few moments with, but who had captured your soul completely.

It was destiny, your friend, Yennefer had whispered to you one night. The witch was so sure of that fact. Told you she had met Jaskier one time, saved his life, and that in his hazy sickness, he had only mumbled your name. You weren’t sure if she was being truthful or just trying to gain your favor with sweet words at the time, too used to the silver tongues of politicians and noblemen.

Still, sitting in the corner of the ballroom seems familiar, and the face that approaches you as well.

“My Lady,” Jaskier bows, holding out his hand.

“Julian.” Is your only response, but the way it is sighed out in response adds such a complexity, that Jaskier isn’t sure what you mean by it. All he knows is that he wants to hear you say it forever.

You spend that night like your first, and never leave his side, talking with Yennefer and Geralt as well, whenever they aren’t staring at each other. He tells you about their travels, and even sings you the famous song about his first adventure with Geralt.

You don’t mention your father’s plans of engagement. You knew if you did, Jaskier would offer you his hand instead, but you would never be able to take it, to take his life from him. Jaskier wasn’t the type of person who could settle down and run a household, which was obvious by his occupation alone. Speaking with him, and hearing how he interacted with people, let alone seeing it, was enough to erase any doubt that Jaskier was a free spirit. Being responsible for his misery wasn’t something you could handle burdening you. So you chose a different, more manageable burden. You chose a life of misery for yourself, in the hopes that you would spare Jaskier his own. Because if keeping this from him kept him free, you would never tell a soul.

You don’t see Jaskier for quite a few months after that, which is a short time period if you consider the years between your last few meetings. Your father wasn’t blind, and he could see the pain in your eyes as you spoke to your fiance and future father-in-law. He knew of Jaskier, he knew of your feelings, and that's why he had given you a choice. He had hoped you would try for your own happiness. It was in vain though, because he had raised you properly. Selfishness was not in your vocabulary, and he knew that is what you viewed asking Jaskier to stay was. Selfishness. How though, could it be selfish if he also knew Jaskier wanted the same thing you did?

Maybe that was why he sent out his fastest rider. Why the note clutched in the warrior’s hand was so hastily written.

When the knight finally managed to find the bard, who was tiredly strumming a new song in his and Geralt’s room, he drummed on the door hard enough to shock the bard onto the floor, and have Geralt reaching for his sword. The insignia on the night’s uniform had Jaskier quickly scrambling up, taking the letter address to him. It wasn’t your handwriting, as he would know that anywhere, but it was similar.

Geralt left Jaskier to sit on the bed, waiting for the bard to tell him they had a monster to fight, or that they had to go to another event. The words that slipped from Jaskier’s mouth, however, were not anywhere close to what the witcher was expecting.

“She’s getting married,” Three simple words that escape Jaskier in a small breath. Geralt’s head whips up, legs swinging over the bed to sit on the edge.

“What?” Its gruff, not gentle as Jaskier hoped the moment to be. He felt as if he might shatter if Geralt asked him anything more.

“She’s going to be married in a month,” He turned to his friend, and Geralt was sure it was the first time he had seen Jaskier so heartbroken. Tears were pooling in the bard’s eyes.

Geralt hummed, standing. He gathered their stuff, pushing the bard out the door. “Like hell she is.”

The next time you see Jaskier, you’re dressed in white, and frowning. It wasn’t that your dress wasn’t beautiful, it was rather perfect if you were honest, but the fact that it was being wasted on a day where you weren’t going to be happy, that was what bothered you.

“How are you doing?” Yennefer asked from her place reclining on your bed. She ate a few fruits out of a bowl, the black shine of her midnight dress was littered with glitter that you could have sworn were actual stars. You had given Yennefer the choice over what she wore today, as she was your only bridesmaid, and you knew she wouldn’t have liked what you picked. She looked beautiful as always though, and at least that made you a bit happier.

“I don’t know,” You said simply, running a hand over the bodice of your dress.

“Don’t bullshit me, be honest,” Yennefer said, not giving you the room to dance around the subject like usual.

“I’m completely miserable and I am afraid I will be for the rest of my life,” You said, turning to her. The main that had been working on your hair stumbled, and you brushed her off when she tried to go back. “My hair is fine, now go help set up something else.”

You knew you were being harsh, but you weren’t in the mood to care. The maid scurried off, and Yennefer quirked a brow at you.

“That was definitely not in character for you,” She said, leaning back on the bed once more and smirking at you. “I think I like angry and horny (Y/N).”

“I’m not horny.”

“But you don’t deny being angry?” She asked. You didn’t respond.

The door to the room opened, and one of the maids rushed in, eyes wide and hair frazzled. “There are two men who just arrived at the house, and one of them is asking for you, My Lady.”

You rolled your eyes. Probably another noble here to give you a wedding gift. “Send them up if you must. I can’t deal with another problem today and I fear if I leave this room, I will be riddled with them.”

The maid nodded, bowing and rushing back out. It wasn’t long before the door was swinging open and you were hissing curses. “Who could have so little decency as to-”

Your words were cut off as you spun around and made eye contact with the intruder. The blue eyes you had only ever seen so briefly, but which you knew so well. He was panting, hair wild and clothes unkempt. His usual jacket was long gone, leaving only pants and a shirt with his sleeves rolled up. It was a far cry from how put-together he usually appeared before you.

He looked you over, eyes filled with so much hurt, and anguish. It was a look you had become familiar with over the past few months, seeing it so often on yourself in the mirror.

“Julian…” You murmured, already feeling the tears well in your eyes. You were hoping never to have to see him again, but destiny apparently had other plans for you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, voice cracking halfway through. That look on his face was what you had been trying to avoid by not telling him. Yennefer leaves the room quickly, grabbing a patiently waiting Geralt as she closes the door behind them.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Jaskier.” You think that the nickname will be enough to tell him you’re serious about this, but it only hurts your more to see the wince he gives at the cold tone.

“Hurt me? You didn’t hurt me,” He took a step closer. “You cut into my back and tore my heart out.”

Its whispered between light sobs, but he still hears it. “I’m sorry.”

“Why not come to me. If this is about politics, I would have married you within the hour,” He knows he sounds like a man desperate for water after being left in the desert for weeks, but he doesn’t have it in him to care at the moment.

“That’s exactly why, Jaskier,” You hissed out, turning to him and letting the hot tears track down you face without a care. You would force yourself to feel the pain, because it let you know you were doing the right thing. “You would’ve given up everything for me at that moment, but you bore easily, and soon you will become bored with me. What then? When you realize you can’t go out on adventures with Geralt, because you have a house and an army to run? When you realize you can’t travel and write songs about heroes because I keep you tied to this godforsaken house?”

“Love ballads,” Is all he says, like he’s reminding you of a chore you have to do that day.

“What?”

“I told you when we met, my songs would be love ballads,” He stepped closer to you, hands coming up to wipe the tears from your face. “I would give up every adventure, every chance to write another song of heroics, if it meant I could spend even a year with you, writing love ballads.”

“But you will be-” You tried, only to be cut off by the feeling of him pressed against you, lips soft and gentle, but so desperate in their need of you. It was only a momentary kiss, but the way he lingered afterwards, the way his lips brushed lightly against yours, and the way his breaths came out in pants like he had just run a mile to get here, was enough to make it feel like an eternity. You weren’t complaining, but the nagging feeling that you were being selfish remained, and you pushed him away. The hurt look on his face was almost enough for you to say ‘screw it’ and kiss him again.

“I will not be the cause of your grief, Julian,” You regretted the name as soon as you said it. You knew it gave him hope, hearing the endearing way you spoke it into existence.

“Yet you stand here, being the greatest cause of my grief,” He followed you as you stepped away, white dress swishing as you moved. “If you are so scared of me losing my freedom, then run away with me.”

It was an absurd request, which you were keen to point out. “My father-”

“Was the one who brought me here.”

That wasn’t what you were expecting, and quite frankly, you were shocked. Your father had been so adamant in your marriage. Why would he bring back the one thing, the one person, who would jeopardize everything?

“Why?”

“Because he knew I would do anything to stop this wedding,” Jaskier scrambled for his lute, smiling slightly. “I will sing every love song I know.”

“Julian,” You tried to stop him, but only half-heartedly.

“I will get up in front of everyone waiting outside and scream it out.”

“Julian…”

“I’ll get Yennefer to spell it out in the sky with the clouds.”

“Julian!” You tried to shush him, as he was getting louder and louder. He dropped his lute back to his side, reaching for you and pulling you close, lips to your ear.

“I will whisper it to you every morning, as I wake up beside you as gaze upon your beautiful face.”

“Julian…” You mumbled, pulling him in for another kiss.

You were sure that no matter how hard you tried, he would not give up, as he had never been the sort. You could argue with him all day, cite sources and state facts, but if there was one thing Jaskier was, it was romantic, and he would die before he told you not to be selfish this one time.

Destiny seemed keen on you and Jaskier being together, or they wouldn’t have pushed you together like they did. And really, who were you to argue with destiny?

---

Yennefer stepped up in front of the crowd, smiling to Geralt. The nobleman and his son demanded to know what was going on, but the witch ignored them. She turned to the gathered friends and family, a polite, and somewhat smug, look on her face.

“There will be no wedding today, as I am afraid the bride has run off with her secret love.” Her tone held no remorse. The nobleman protested angrily, spouting off how this was outrageous and an insult to his family. He demanded Geralt, the mighty witcher, track them down.

“I can’t.” Was all Geralt said.

“And why not?”

“I only hunt monsters.”

#jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier oneshot #julian alfred pankratz #julian alfred pankratz x reader #julian alfred pankratz oneshot #the witcher #the witcher oneshot #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg

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perlukafarinn · 5 years ago

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4 + 39, Destiel, obviously

Mistaken for a couple + Kid ficThis got really long (2.4k words) but I have no regrets.

In October, Dean has an unremarkable one night stand with a woman named Lydia. He doesn’t hear from her again but eleven months later, he’s suddenly a single father to a baby girl who just survived the car crash that killed her mother.

It’s a lot of change in a short amount of time, especially considering he doesn’t know of Emma’s existence until he gets the call from the hospital. He’s responsible for a whole ass person now - a tiny, fragile person who won’t stop crying and who screams bloody murder whenever Dean tries to put her in a car seat.

The little hypocrite is fine with the bus, so Dean resigns himself to public transport for the next while. Dealing with dirty looks from his fellow passengers as Emma cries her head off is easier than the alternative. At least it’s regular crying, not those demonic shrieks she makes in the car.

“Maybe you’re holding her wrong.”

Dean glares at Cas, who’s in the seat next to him. He’s been taking the bus with them ever since Dean brought Emma home, and although Dean is grateful for the company that doesn’t mean he’s gonna put up with unsolicited criticisms.

“Maybe you should shove it.”

“Hand her over,” Cas says, ignoring him.

Dean hesitates but then complies. Maybe the tiny bit of distance will make the endless crying more bearable.

Cas takes her carefully into his arms, supporting her head like the nurse at the hospital had shown Dean and cradling her to his chest. He bounces her just slightly and then, miracle of miracles, her crying starts to die down.

Dean stares at him in wonder. “How did you do that?”

Cas shrugs. He’s looking down at Emma with a small, gentle smile and Dean feels something in his chest clench at the sight.

“What a sweet girl you two have,” coos a woman sitting across the aisle from them.

It takes Dean a moment to realize she’s misinterpreted the situation. He wonders if he should correct her but before he can, Cas answers, “Thank you.”

Unfortunately, the woman takes that as her cue to continue the conversation. “Did you adopt?”

“No,” Cas responds dryly. “Dean forgot the condom.”

“O-oh.”

She stops bothering them after that and a couple of stops later, she’s off.

“So,” Dean says as soon as she’s gone, “is it an open relationship or did I cheat?”

“You cheated,” Cas answers without hesitating. “Hussy.”

The zoo is Emma’s favorite place in the world. Dean’s not crazy about it himself but he’s a sucker for those big blue eyes of hers so they go every week - twice, if Emma’s feeling fussy.

Cas always joins them, even though he must have better things to do. Dean expected his social life to suffer since becoming a single parent, and it has, but he’s seen more of Cas in the past few months than in the last three years combined.

(It probably helps that Cas is divorced now - Daphne never could stand Dean.)

It’s early Saturday afternoon but the slight drizzle keeps most people away. Dean has Emma strapped to his chest, shielding her from the rain with an umbrella, but he gets the feeling she wouldn’t notice it anyway. Their first stop is one of the monkey cages and Emma is captivated, shrieking with laughter and babbling cheerful nonsense at the unimpressed looking monkeys.

“I don’t get why she’s so obsessed with those things,” Dean says.

“I do.” Cas crouches, holding out a finger to Emma who grasps it in her chubby hand. “It’s because she’s a monkey herself.”

“Don’t listen to him, Em,” Dean tells his daughter, taking her unoccupied hand and kissing it. “You’re the cutest little girl in the world.”

Cas straightens and shoots him a wry smile. “Is that why you put that bow in her hair? Or is it because of that woman who told you how handsome your son is?”

Dean pats Emma’s head, careful not to disturb the pink bow clinging precariously to a few strands of hair. That woman was not the first person to confuse Emma for a boy, probably because most of her clothes are hand-me-downs from Cas’ nephew, Jack.

“No,” he lies, because he’s not up for another one of Cas’ lectures about how gender is a construct.

They watch the monkeys a while longer, since Emma can’t seem to get enough of them. The drizzle is starting to turn into proper rain so Cas huddles close, underneath Dean’s umbrella

Eventually, Dean decides they need to check out the rest of the zoo. He begins to walk away from the cage but Emma starts immediately wailing, reaching both hands out to the monkeys.

“Let her stay a little longer,” Cas says.

“If it were up to her, we’d never leave. We can’t give in every time she starts crying, she’ll stop as soon as she sees something else she likes.”

“Ten more minutes.”

Dean rolls his eyes but relents. Next to him, a woman who just arrived with her baby in a stroller laughs.

“Sucks to have to be the strict one, huh?” she asks.

“Oh, we’re not-” Dean cuts himself off, because why bother. “Yeah, it does.”

“My husband is just as bad,” she confides. “He would let this one get away with murder if it weren’t for me.”

Dean hums. Cas isn’t paying attention to the conversation, too busy reading the plaque in front of the cage.

“I would have figured it would be twice as bad with two daddies, but you seem to be doing okay.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The woman cranes her neck, peering curiously around Dean at Cas. “Which one of you is her real dad?”

A shot of annoyance goes through Dean and he answers without thinking, “We’re both her real dads.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t. Cas,” Dean adds a little louder. “C'mon, let’s check out the tapirs.”

Emma starts wailing again as they walk away but like Dean predicted, she stops as soon as she spots something else to occupy her interest - in this case, a big rock.

“We’re both her real dads?” Cas asks.

Dean blushes. “Sorry. I just hate it when people talk about family not being real, just because you’re not related by blood.”

“I know.”

“Didn’t mean to drag you into it.”

“It’s fine. I do consider you and Emma to be my family.”

Dean swallows past the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat. “Yeah. Well. Right back at you.”

He ignores the flutter of hope in his chest. That way only lies danger.

Dean is expecting some tears on Emma’s first day of pre-school. If not from her, then from himself. Surprisingly, they both handle it well. Emma stumbles off without saying goodbye when she spots a slide on the playground and although Dean gets a little misty-eyed, he keeps it together.

Then he turns to Cas, who is noticeably distressed.

Dean nudges him. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yes, I’m-” Cas clears his throat and Dean pretends not to notice when he wipes away a tear. “I’m fine.”

“It’s only a few hours. I’m sure you can handle it.”

Cas shoots him a glare. “I’m going to wait in the car.”

He walks off and Dean feels a little bad for teasing but not enough to actually go and apologize.

Emma’s new teacher walks up to him. “This is nothing unusual,” she says, gesturing at Cas’ retreating back. “But Emma is adjusting remarkably well.”

“Yeah, she’s a champ,” Dean says, chest swelling with pride. He can still see Emma from here, toddling her way up the short steps to the slide.

“Will you or your partner be picking her up? Or both of you?”

Emma slides down, stumbling as she lands but managing to stay on her feet. She shrieks in delight, running back around to the steps to go again.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, husband.”

Dean turns to the teacher, attention caught by that word. “What?”

“Which one of you will be picking up Emma?” she asks again. “You or your husband?”

Dean stares at her blankly for a moment. “Me,” he finally answers. “My - uh, my husband is working late.”

Later, once he’s taken care of all the formalities with the teacher and has said goodbye to Emma, Dean heads back to the car and wonders why he didn’t correct her. Why he went along with her mistake.

Why the hell the word ‘husband’ sounded so good when applied to Cas.

On Emma’s second birthday, Dean discovers that strangers aren’t the only ones who have been mistaking him and Cas for a couple.

He’s in his kitchen, putting away all the dirty dishes from Emma’s party. The birthday girl herself is taking a nap and although most of the guests have gone home, a few still linger in the living room, talking quietly among themselves.

He’s just about done loading the machine and putting the leftovers away when Mom joins him.

“Bobby and I are about to head home,” she tells him. “Just wanted to say goodbye.”

Dean closes the fridge and walks over to hug her. She’s smiling at him when they part, eyes shining. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says. She clears her throat, pats Dean’s chest. “I’m just… really happy for you, sweetie.”

“Mom,” Dean says, putting his hand over hers. “Have you been drinking?”

Mom snorts, swatting him. “I mean it, kid. I was so worried about you when you got the call about Emma but you’ve handled the situation better than I could have hoped for.”

Dean shrugs, uncomfortable at the deluge of sincere praise. This is the kind of emotional honesty members of the Winchester family don’t usually engage in unless somebody’s on their deathbed.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Mom continues. “And you’re both lucky to have Castiel. I’m glad you’ve all found each other.”

Dean’s stomach sinks. He searches Mom’s expression for any hint of a joke but she looks completely serious.

“Mom… I don’t have Cas. We’re not together.”

“…You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Mom blinks. “But you’re…” She huffs. “I don’t understand.”

“Sorry?” Dean scratches the back of his neck. “I dunno what to tell you, we’re just friends.”

Neither one of them speaks, the silence between them growing awkward.

“I’m… gonna go,” Mom finally says. “Just forget I said anything about Castiel.”

“Okay,” Dean says, knowing full well he’s not gonna be able to.

Strangers thinking he and Cas are involved is one thing. But Mom? Maybe it’s time for Dean to reevaluate the way they come off to people. The last thing he needs is for Emma to get confused about the situation.

Dean considers bringing it up with Cas but it’s just too awkward and in the end, very little reevaluating is done. Dean likes that they’re close, even if they’re never as close as he actually wants. He doesn’t wanna lose any part of what he and Cas have, doesn’t want anything to change between them.

So he says nothing, and things stay the same.

The conversation with Mom is all but forgotten a few months later. Dean is working late, so Cas offers to picks Emma up from pre-school. They’re both kneeling around the coffee table in the living room when Dean comes home, drawing with crayons on the blank pages of Emma’s coloring book.

Dean feels ten different kinds of warm and fuzzy at the sight of them and he can’t help but smile. Cas looks up, finally noticing him, and answers with a gummy smile of his own.

“You staying for dinner?” Dean asks, ignoring the way his heart just skipped a beat.

“Mhm,” Emma hums without looking up from the coloring book.

“I suppose I am,” Cas agrees.

He stays for dinner and then he stays after, helping Dean get Emma to bed. Even once she’s asleep, he stays and does the dishes while Dean throws a load in the laundry.

Neither one of them says anything, but by the time they’re done with the chores and collapse on the couch in front of the TV it’s clear that he’s not going home to sleep. It’s not the first time he’s staying the night, or even the fiftieth - it’s become something of a habit since Dean got Emma. The guest room is basically Cas’ room by now.

They channel surf until Cas makes Dean stop on some competitive reality show about blowing glass. Dean becomes invested despite himself but even then, he’s exhausted and the couch is very soft and inviting.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but when he wakes up, his head is laying on Cas’ shoulder and Cas is slumped against him, snoring softly. It’s dark outside and the only source of light is from the television, now showing a late night talk show with the volume off.

Dean sits up, jostling Cas awake. For a moment, they just look at each other, both smiling sleepily. Then Dean, forgetting for a moment everything they are and everything they aren’t, leans in and kisses him.

It’s not a first kiss. It isn’t tentative, or curious, or impatient and passionate. It’s a routine kiss, the kind you give a partner you’ve been with for a while, brief but assured and loving.

He pulls away and it’s not until he sees Cas’ face that his brain finally catches up with him.

“Shit,” he mutters, recoiling. “Cas, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

He moves to get up, but Cas grabs his hand, holding him still. He doesn’t look shocked or disturbed. Dean can’t read his expression at all, can’t tell what that searching look in his eyes means.

“Don’t apologize,” he finally says. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for ten years.”

Dean’s jaw goes slack. “Wh- ten years?”

“Yes,” Cas says, matter-of-factly. Then, “I’m going to kiss you again, if you don’t mind.”

Dean doesn’t mind. He very, very much doesn’t mind, especially with the way Cas’ hand cups the back of his neck, thumb rubbing the sensitive skin behind his ear before he leans in, kissing Dean with gentle pressure and precision. Or the way he licks the seams of his lips until he opens them, turning the kiss a little filthy and sending bolts of heat dancing down to Dean’s gut.

They part, and something occurs to Dean.

“Wait, is that why Daphne hated me?”

Cas laughs. He’s so close, Dean can feel the way it rumbles in his chest warm and low. “No, actually. She thought you drank too much.”

Then he’s kissing Dean again, and the conversation is officially over.

It isn’t until he’s in a relationship with Cas that Dean realizes he was basically in a relationship with Cas already.

Seems he was the one misunderstanding things all along.

#arsenic-and-coffee #avyssoseleison #perlukafarinn writes #spn fanfic #destiel #deancas #prompt fill #tropes!#dad!dean #au fic #mistaken for a couple #pining!dean #fluff #domestic #kid fic #first kiss #fave

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kindofcashton · 5 years ago

Text

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 5 (Calum Hood AU)

I WAS JUST as excited coming home today, but I contained my enthusiasm, in fear that I’d be walking into another argument like last night. Fortunately, when I approached the front door all was quiet.

“Hey, I’m home,” I called, dropping my bag gratefully and entering the kitchen. I was famished, and it was only the early afternoon. I didn’t know if I could make it to dinner without eating something.

Hannah was sitting cross legged at the table, ignoring the full bowl of popcorn next to her as all of her attention was captured by her phone.

“Yeah, hi,” she said distractedly, and she didn’t look up when I sat down across from her. She didn’t look up when I snatched some popcorn, either.

Chewing thoughtfully, I questioned, “What’s up?”

Finally snapping into reality, Hannah shut her phone off and slid it far away from on her so it was out of arm’s reach.

“Sorry, Ashton is supposed to be at work right now but instead he’s texting me about reapplying to schools.” Her expression was slightly embarrassed and defeated, and I felt a pang of sympathy.

“At least he’s trying to help,” I offered gently. Hannah just waved her hand.

“I know he is, he’s annoyingly kind that way. But whatever, what’s up with you? How’s work going?”

I couldn’t hold back a smile any longer. “Actually, work is really good. I have a date tonight.”

Hannah’s jaw dropped. “Shut up. With a coworker? You didn’t tell me there were cute baristas there.”

“No no no, a customer. He came in yesterday and I totally bombed his order, but then he was back this morning and asked me to dinner.”

Her eyebrows raised approvingly. “Dinner, wow. Any idea where you’re going?”

Frowning, I realized I had no idea. Was it going to be super fancy, or completely casual? I also realized I had no way to ask, since I gave him my number and he didn’t give me his.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out. I’ll even raid my closet for you, if we can’t find the perfect outfit.” I smiled appreciatively at her, just as Luke and Calum entered the kitchen. They were in shorts and muscle tanks, dripping with sweat. Calum’s curls were glistening and stuck to his forehead, and his skin was shiny with sweat. Clearly they’d just finished a workout, as both their chests were heaving.

“Perfect outfit for what?” Luke asked, grabbing a water bottle for himself and Calum.

Before I could answer, Hannah jumped in. “Scarlett has a date tonight with a guy she met at work.”

I flushed, unsure why I was embarrassed at her telling them. For some reason my eyes shifted to Calum, and I watched him take a long swig of water, avoiding my gaze.

“It’s your second day and you already have a date? I’m impressed.” Luke came over to give me a fist bump, and I shrugged off his praise.

“I didn’t really do much to earn it, other than ruin the poor guy’s coffee.”

Hannah shook her head firmly. “Scarlett, you could serve a guy motor oil in a mug and he’d still drop to his knees to ask you out.”

Luke raised his bottle. “True.” Next to him, Calum set his jaw.

“Come on,” Hannah beckoned, grabbing my hands to lead me up from the table. “We need as much time as possible to get you ready.”

“Hey,” I protested. “I’m not half bad right now.”

We locked ourselves in my room and got to work. Even though I wasn’t half bad, I still needed a lot of work. But I begged Hannah not to go too overboard with the makeup; after all, Jeremy had met me when I looked like a mess at work, and still wanted to ask me out. I doubted he’d appreciate a pound of makeup on my face after seeing me like that. He texted asking for the address, and I already felt flutters of excitement at his message.

Hannah picked up yet another brush to add some sort of powder to my face, and I immediately recoiled.

“Are you trying to paint on an entirely new face?” I demanded.

“I’m only accentuating what you already have,” she swore, holding up two lip glosses. “Do you think Jeremy is a champagne sparkle or nude pink kind of guy?”

“I think he’s probably colorblind when it comes to these things,” I joked. “Just pick one. I hope there won’t be any left on my lips by the end of the night.”

Hannah smacked my arm with a cackle, opting for the champagne gloss. “You sneaky bitch,” she said, happily swiping the gloss across my lips. I ruffled my gently curled hair and glanced into the mirror, eyebrows quirking in surprise.

She was right; I still looked like me, just...a better version. My green eyes were rimmed with liner and mascara-thickened lashes, accentuating their sparkle. My cheeks were dusted with shine and a slight blush, and my lips looked full and kissable.

“You’re a miracle worker,” I told Hannah as she started rifting through the closet. “Seriously, no one can even tell I have the under-eye bags of an eighty year old woman!”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few items to try them out. “Maybe you wouldn’t have such dark circles if you actually slept. Calum said you were slumped over the kitchen table this morning!”

I flushed, embarrassed that Calum had brought that up. Did he do it to mock me or out of concern? I couldn’t read Hannah’s words very well to figure it out.

Casually, I asked, “Did he also tell you that we woke me up in time for work? I would’ve missed my shift if not for him.”

Hannah glanced over. “No, he didn’t mention that part.”

I frowned. Why wouldn’t he want to brag about saving the day, being the hero? Surely he’d want to use it against me? Every interaction with Calum just confused me even more, and I’d never met a single person more puzzling than him. I wondered if I’d ever figure him out.

“Alright, try these.” Hannah handed me a few options, mainly dresses and skirts.

“Wouldn’t jeans be a safer bet? I mean, I still don’t know where we’re going.”

Hannah folded her arms, expression firm. “Absolutely not, Scarlett. With those legs, jeans are a sin. You have to show what you got.”

Chuckling at her confidence in me, I eyed the options. An emerald green, ruffled dress with flouncy sleeves stuck out to me, and I decided it was the winner. It wasn’t as daring as the tight black dress Hannah offered, and I could dress it down if need be.

“Perfect, that’ll look great with your eyes,” Hannah stated, reaching for the knee high boots I’d worn the other night. “And with these, you’ll kill him on sight.”

I laughed, grabbing the boots and slipping into the dress. “I don’t want to kill him before we have any fun.”

Hannah gaped, pretending to be shocked. “Should I expect not to see you later, then? Planning on spending the night?”

Biting my lip sheepishly, I shrugged as I laced up the boots. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Would I be opposed? No. Am I expecting anything? Not really.”

Hannah put a hand to her chest, sighing dramatically. “I feel like a proud mother. Let’s go break some hearts.” She grabbed my hand and we skipped down the stairs, giggling as we joined the guys in the kitchen. They were all gathered around a large pizza, bickering about something I couldn’t quite catch.

They all shut up when we entered, and Hannah splayed out her arms as she sang “Ta-da!” I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear and blushed, hating all of the eyes on me. Being the center of attention was never something I sought out, and whenever I was placed in the spotlight I usually shied away. This particular spotlight was a lot harsher and brighter, considering the added pressure that Calum’s gaze added. I felt like I was burning up in front of his scrutinizing stare.

“Sure you wanna give this guy a heart attack before you get a chance to eat?” Michael warned, eyebrows wriggling mischievously. I huffed and shuffled my feet. Hannah gripped my shoulders and beamed at the guys.

“I’d like some credit for my handiwork. Her knotty hair wasn’t easy to tame.”

“Hey!” I objected, shaking her off. Suddenly my phone buzzed in my bag, and I pulled it out to see who texted.

I’m out front :) -Jeremy

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, and I took a deep breath before dropping my phone back into my purse.

“That’s my cue,” I said, giving a nervous smile. Calum scoffed.

“He’s not gonna come to the door? What a gentleman.” My face fell at his criticizing words.

Hannah let out an irritated ugh. “Look who’s talking,” she shot back. “When have you ever been a gentleman?” She didn’t give him time to reply before grabbing my arm to spin me out of the kitchen.

We reached the door and I inhaled shakily, nerves joining the butterflies in my stomach.

“I want a full report when you get home,” Hannah instructed. Softening her voice, she added, “Please have fun. You deserve it right now.”

I wrapped my arms around her in a quick embrace, trying to communicate my gratitude without words. I could tell by the shine in her eyes she understood, and with one last apprehensive glance I walked outside.

A sleek black car waited by the curb, and I could see Jeremy leaning against it, hands in his pockets. He looked good; so polished and put together. I was glad to see his outfit matched mine in terms of niceness; I wouldn’t be over or under dressed after all.

As I approached, he swept an arm out to beckon me in as he opened the side door. I giggled at his medieval gesture, raising my eyebrows questioningly.

“I know this is archaic,” he confessed. “But I realized after texting I probably should’ve rang the door, so take this as my first chivalrous act of the night.”

Clicking my seat belt in place, I smiled over at him as he started the engine. “It’s no big deal. In fact, I’m kind of glad you didn’t come to the door. My roommates probably wouldn’t have let us leave for at least an hour.”

“And why is that?” he asked, pulling out of the neighborhood onto the main road.

“The interrogation, of course,” I explained. “I can’t go to dinner with just anybody.”

He laughed. “Intense friends, I take it?”

My smile faltered. Shit, was that joke too much? Am I scaring him off?

“I wish my friends cared that much,” he continued. “Sometimes I feel like I could go out with a zebra and they wouldn’t care.”

I chuckled, grateful that he didn’t think my comment was crazy. We had idle chat for a few minutes more until we arrived at the restaurant, and I was pleasantly surprised. It was a cool, modern Chinese place with intoxicating aromas wafting from the door.

Jeremy must have seen my expression, because he pumped his fist slightly. “You’re happy with it? Thank god, you have no idea how much I was worried about picking the perfect place. I thought Italian was too informal but French was too stuffy, and then I thought: everyone likes Chinese food, right?”

“Right,” I echoed. “I could eat fried rice every day of my life.”

We were seated right away as Jeremy had called ahead to make a reservation. Our little table was right in the middle of the restaurant, and it seemed like we were surrounded by couples on all sides.

Our waitress came by and Jeremy ordered two drinks for us, something on their special’s menu. I tried to hide a smile; no guy had ever ordered for me before.

“It’s the best thing here,” he told me. “Even better than the food, even.”

“You’re setting my expectations pretty high, watch out,” I warned good-naturedly, and he ran a hand through his chestnut hair.

“I just hope I don’t disappoint.”

Our conversation was easy and continued right up until the food came. He was right; whatever drink that he’d ordered was crazy good, and I was tempted to order multiple. But being tipsy made my words slip, and I didn’t want to look like a fool. The fried rice I ordered was beyond good, and for a few minutes we just ate in comfortable silence.

“So, what are you up to other than ruining coffee?” Jeremy asked me. “Where do you go to school?”

I swallowed a lump of rice, desperately trying to stall time to come up with an answer. I should’ve prepared for these sorts of questions, but I was so excited for the date I forgot.

“Um,” I began, toying with the end of my hair. “I was going to school in Sydney for a while, but then I relocated here to do my studies at home. I have plans to go back really soon, though.” I hoped my response wasn’t rushed and transparent. Jeremy thought about it for a second, and my heart was throbbing in my ears.

“I hate being in one place for too long,” he finally said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Especially now, when I’m so young and there’s so many things to do. I just want to experience everything life has to offer while I can, you know?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, although secretly I knew I wasn’t that kind of girl. I wished I had time to explore and experiment, but with school always being a number one priority and then the tragedy with my parents, I knew that kind of life would never be for me.

“I only wish my old man felt the same way,” he admitted, and I lowered my fork. The conversation was taking a more serious turn.

“How so?”

Jeremy shrugged. “He’s always been a stickler for me to go to school, get a job, do everything so textbook. But I just think, I’m young, I’m healthy, I have all the time in the world to do what I want. And what I want to do isn’t sit around and study.” He smiled suggestively. “I’d much rather spend my time asking pretty baristas to dinner.”

I blushed at his joke, my cheeks hurting from smiling. Jeremy was just so charming, and I could see myself listening to him talk for hours. “I wish I had more of that attitude. Sometimes I think school and work overwhelm my life, to the point where I don’t even have one.”

Jeremy nodded. “Well, spend more time with me and maybe I can change that.” His hazel eyes sparked as I gazed into them, and suddenly all I wanted to do was spend more time with him. Maybe Jeremy would be the one to finally pull me out of my slump.

The rest of dinner went amazing. I thought the waitress was about ready to kick us out, we were there for so long. But eventually the night did wind down, and Jeremy graciously picked up the tab.

“I’m paying next time,” I scolded him, sliding my purse onto my arm as we made our way to the exit. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t even let me leave the tip.”

He threw his hands up in defense. “Hey, I told you, chivalry is definitely not dead with me.” I rolled my eyes as he laughed, and gasped softly when I felt his arm sling around my shoulder. He pulled me into his side, and I inhaled his expensive cologne.

I didn’t want to disconnect from his warm embrace when we got to the car, but sadly he let me go so I could sit. I was buzzing with excitement, not the least bit tired. My favorite part of a date was always the end, the anticipation of whether he’d kiss me or not. As we drove away, disappointment crept into my mind. Did he want to kiss me?

For the entire drive home I was a nervous wreck, right until he pulled up next to the house. He shifted to face me as he turned the car off, enveloping us in silence.

“Well, I don’t know about you, Scarlett, but I think we might just have to do this again.”

My grin was wide, and I pushed my hair out of my face. “I think I could live with that.”

His eyes drifted down to my lips, and I almost squealed with joy when he leaned in to kiss me. His lips were warm, and he tasted like the drink we’d had. I rested a hand on his neck, and his fingers wound into my hair. He didn’t use tongue, which I guess I appreciated seeing as this was our first date.

Finally I pulled back, and bit my freshly plump lip. “See you later, Jeremy.”

He nodded, looking giddy himself. “I will definitely be calling you, Scarlett. Leave your ringer on.”

I laughed as I climbed out of the car, shutting the door and giving him one last wave before he drove off.

Feeling on top of the world, I pushed through the front door into a dark house. I thought everyone was asleep until I saw Hannah in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water and sifting through mail.

I dropped my bag on the ground and strolled over. “What’s up?” I was surprised she didn’t jump on me as soon as I walked through the door.

She glanced up, and I could tell by her grave expression something was wrong.

“What it is?”

Hannah sighed, and grabbed one of the envelopes from her stack. “It’s from school,” she whispered. “I opened it, just because I wanted to know what they said. And it’s a bill.”

My heart thumped in my chest. “A bill? But I thought...I dropped out, that’s it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know, the fine print was so confusing. Something about paying back grants and aid? I don’t know if it’ll be the last one, either.”

All of the joy from my fun night evaporated as I read the amount at the bottom of the letter, feeling sick to my stomach. “Hannah...” I murmured, face falling into my hands. “I don’t have this money. I don’t have...any. I don’t even get paid at the cafe for two weeks.”

She rubbed my arm soothingly. “It’ll be okay, we’ll figure something out. Maybe call the people who helped with your parents? See if there’s anything left?”

I nodded, sniffling as tears blurred in my eyes. Footsteps announced someone else’s arrival, and I felt Calum’s presence before I even looked

He watched us for a second before leaning over the table. “Got my mail, Hannah?” he asked, and she handed him an envelope. It was plainly marked, and I just glimpsed the words Margaret Hood before he snatched it away.

Calum studied my appearance a little longer, and I knew he could see my watery eyes. I prepared for some snarky comment, or a jab about my date. But he didn’t say anything; instead he just waved the letter in his hand.

“Night, guys.”

I watched his back retreat towards the stairs, unsure whether the pit in my stomach was because of Hannah’s news or the way his expression was almost sympathizing.

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lunarxdaydream · 4 years ago

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advent calendar rp meme

→ day twelve: an oc otp [ 1/ ? ]

→ Satine & Nolan ( @vacuitas )

Goodness gracious, I honestly couldn’t narrow it down to one set so expect a few for this specific segment. And to kick this one off is, as you might have expected, Satine and Nolan. These two have been through hell and back for each other. The pair have their own respective careers that involve killing. Their pasts are filled with trauma and there is an inevitable mistrust of the world. Yet through it all, the pair somehow managed to cross paths where their drastically different personalities resulted in the blossoming of a relationship.

Nolan is a muse that often keeps to himself. His emotions are rarely shown let alone the desire to create connections outside of the artificials in the sanctum. He has a high distrust toward humans due to his background as a test subject. Frankly, he is someone who prefers to be left alone. Satine, on the other hand, is someone who enjoys toying with people’s emotions. She will feign interest and happily use skills to trick people into giving into whatever task she has in mind in order to save herself the work. While she has little trust among others, she does nurture a particular close circle.

A man who basks in isolate and a woman who blossoms in crowds. Two polar opposites that, through a mistaken scenario, led for the pair to meet. And by a miracle, this began to sow the seeds for their friendship to grow. Albeint Nolan was possibly annoyed by Satine’s demeanor while she considered him to be suspicious. When emotions finally developed, the pair were uncertain on how to proceed. Nolan wasn’t well versed in a relationship while Satine has been taught to discard them. Little by little, fate continued to pull them until finally, their attraction could no longer be contained.

Unfortunately, their happiness was limited. Ever since Nolan’s transformation and near attack to Satine, a new rift began to form. Not because of lack in love but because of Nolan’s uncertainty on being able keep her safe or more importantly, Satine’s willingness to love a ‘monster’, as he put it. Nolan’s concern was so great that he even gave Satine a weapon that would kill him should he suddenly attempt to attack her. I mean, can you even imagine that? -- Being told by someone you love to kill them to protect yourself? Satine certainly didn’t and had no intention of doing so ... but at Nolan’s behest, she was forced to make a promise.

From Nolan’s abandonment after his attack to Satine’s hunting down of his friends, the couple has endured numerous scars to their relationship. Some, frankly, by their own doing and inability to communicate and remorse. For example, Nolan continues to carry the weight of guilt from leaving Satine without so much as a word of goodbye. Whenever her nightmares return, you often see him with sadness because of the realization her fears stem from his rejection. Satine, on the other hand, carries the guilt of her killing of Nolan’s friends. No -- she didn’t just kill them but tortured them until death is the only thing they began to beg for. No matter what he says to her, Satine knows she cannot bring these people to life and for that, could not accept the excuse that she didn’t know and had done it to protect him.

Add Nolan’s failing health to the mix and just ... my heart breaks for them. Nolan had put off proposing to Satine for so long because he believed he wouldn’t even make it to the altar. In fact, he was afraid of making her a widow and once again, disappointing her and adding to the deep scars in her heart. Satine continues to fear for his condition. It is in large part the reason why she endures an experimental program she enrolled since the start of their relationship -- to grow stronger and find a way to help Nolan.

Despite all of these lies and obstacles, there is no denying that their motivating factor is a love for one another. To say Satine is in love with Nolan almost feels insufficient to describe it. She painstakingly is in search for a cure. She is willing to give her own life if it means to give Nolan a chance to live. Nolan is and has always been the love of her life. Even during his absence, Satine never strayed. She didn’t date. She didn’t even entertain the thought because deep down, Nolan was the one she felt she belonged to.

Nolan has equally shown his devotion to Satine. He does his best to make her smile. He tries his best to refrain from bringing up painful topics. He has, time and time again, proven he would never leave her like he had before. The mere fact that he finally proposed to her in the place where they first crossed paths is a huuuugeeee step for him. Nolan even stood up to Talon, his pseudo father and leader of the artificials! I mean -- even after killing all of those people, his own kind, Nolan vouched for her! Nolan risked himself by standing between Talon’s well-founded reason for retribution in order to protect the one he loves!

These two are willing to fight the world for one another. Both of them have helped heal the other’s heart. They have given them a reason to live and seek to grab hold of a future that they believed was never meant for them. They certainly do continue to make mistakes but it’s natural. Nolan is still learning to feel his emotions as Satine is allowing herself to embrace them. And now with their nuptials coming up, Satine and Nolan have never been happier. A wedding ... -- a major event that they never would have imagined -- is where they want to vow to love each other in front of everyone. To unashamedly tell the world that this is who they love. This is who they want to be with and this is where their future lays. This in itself is such a major growth in their personalities when compared to the very beginning!

#( Satine & Nolan )#( ooc. )#( advent meme. )

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monchikyun · 4 years ago

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03.My heart is cold

trigger warning: Gavin is suicidal in this one, so that, also references to self-harm

He doesn’t know how many times he’s done it already, the exact number keeps getting away from him. Must have been somewhere between ten and twenty. It doesn’t matter anyway, nothing does to him. Cowards don’t die easily. But Gavin is a persistent one.

The first time he tried to stop breathing was when he was just fifteen. It wasn’t because he was bullied or because his parents didn’t love him enough, he was just tired of living with himself. And maybe the fact that he was a dumb teenager who didn’t have the word ‘responsibility’ in his vocabulary might have contributed a bit. Getting wasted every chance that presented itself and even when it didn’t he’d find a way to ruin his body some. His mental health didn’t appreciate this self-destructing behaviour and one mistake lead to another… but it didn’t work in the end, just one of the myriad of failures to add to his ever-growing collection.

The second attempt was more of an accident, running at a speeding car without really trying to stop. He tells himself it was his carelessness that made him spend the winter in hospital, but he knows that he’d do it again if he had the right reason. That had been before he decided what he wanted to do with his bleak life. It was either becoming a criminal or hunting them down. He wants to say that he chose right but truth be told it still doesn’t sit right with him, even after all those years.

Nothing got much better after he had obtained a secure position in law enforcement, other than not having to struggle financially. It’s a miracle that he was able to pass his psychic evaluation, but considering the sort of scum he has encountered during his service, he’s not all that surprised. Maybe he belongs among them too. Even if he hasn’t killed someone who smelled of innocence, he’s still done some pretty fucked-up shit. Not that he can remember ever being nice to anyone (does his cat count?) - tolerable, at most. The one who gets the worst of it being none other than Gavin himself. There is not a single drop of self-love inside of him, quite the opposite. If there is someone who he unconditionally despises, it’s him and his stupid, weak, aggressive self. No amount of pain and blood could ever fix him. He tried punishing himself in any viable way, splitting himself open for the demons to leave him but it only made things worse. Even when other people justifiably hurt him it did nothing to alleviate his pain. So he increased the force of which to harm his body - he tried to remove his soul. If he became nothing but an empty shelf maybe than he gets the coveted relief. His flesh burned and drowned and bled, got poisoned and infected, yet he’s still here, filling his lungs with ashes. There is still one option he is too afraid to try, lest it actually steals his life away.

It feels like his heart has died a long time ago, becoming nothing but an icy hole leading nowhere, but at times he can see something there, something that isn’t rotten and veiled in hatred. And it’s all the prick’s fault.

Androids pissed him off enough as they were, but something about the plastic that sauntered to the department like he was to be just another new addition to their force set off his super-destructive tendencies. He had made an effort to hold back before, shutting out the merciless voices in his head by means that wouldn’t cause harm. But Connor made him regress. And he hated him because of it, for the longest time. In reality, it has only been till the revolt happened and the time it took him to accept that there is more humanity hiding in those machines that there has ever been in him.

When spring arrived, something else took a turn to the unexpected. The android (who has resumed his work at the DPD) started paying attention to him, which came as a volatile shock to Gavin. At first, there were just random glances, whose meaning he couldn’t begin to understand. Then there were exchanged messages, disguised in casual interest. He was aware the Connor was treating everyone in the department with equal congeniality, wearing that aggravating charm and spreading politeness everywhere he could. Still, Gavin started feeling regret, a vile little thing he somehow managed to avoid till then. Maybe if he had treated the guy with little less hostility, they could have become… what, friends? That thought was too idiotic even by his standards.

This all had happened when he didn’t have the slightest idea what impossible things would follow next. The messages turned into spoken words and he was eventually coaxed into apologising. He mustn't even have faked it, since he observed his world getting fractionally brighter right after. Something inside of him must have snapped. Whenever Connor was near him, the desire to die would diminish sometimes it would even completely disappear.

One day, the android brought him a cup of coffee sprinkled with the most brilliant smile he has ever seen, to which he reacted by running to the bathroom and sobbing like a baby. He didn’t know how to handle those feelings that made him this outwardly broken, so he did what any sensible person would do.

He screamed at Connor, in anger or agony, he couldn’t tell. The hurt look he received from him created a crack in his frozen heart, allowing the accumulated ache to leak out, tainting the small quantity of good he had borrowed from the person who made him want to live.

Since then their mutual tolerance has been reset. Must have been a week already. It feels more like a year to Gavin, for every second of his existence has been much more unbearable from the moment he let his stupid problem affect Connor too. But there is still the one option, one escape route he hasn’t dared to take yet. Maybe because it’s too often irreversible, too final for his cowardly taste. The longer he waits the more oxygen gets wasted on him and so he stands up from his desk, abandoning the mundane paperwork that doesn’t need him to be completed and runs for the nearest highest place.

The roof is eerily silent, despite the noise coming from the busy streets below. He comes here regularly to have a smoke, so he’s certain that no one will bother him when he gets to it.

Nobody comes here, it’s too out of reach, too inconvenient. That’s why he likes it.

He stands at the edge, looking down at the blur that might be cars or people, he doesn’t care. The tears won’t let him see and for that he’s grateful. All it takes is one step. One little movement and it’s all over, no more pain.

He won’t be able to hurt anyone, not anymore.

But that’s a lie, isn’t it.

“Move away from there, it’s dangerous.”

Connor’s soft voice. His favourite sound in the world. That’s why he has to, b̶u̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶’̶t̶,̶ ̶C̶o̶n̶n̶o̶r̶ ̶w̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶s̶a̶d̶.̶ So tired. If he turns around and looks at him, his resolve will vanish. So he doesn’t. He just stands there, eyes transfixed by his imminent grave.

“Gavin. Look at me.” NO!

“Please.”

Gavin is a coward with a heart made of snow, but it’s spring now and all that is cold must make way for beautiful, warm things.

He doesn’t resist when he’s being pulled away from the death trap he made for himself, melting to nothing when he’s being held like there’s something worthwhile inside of him

“You… you didn’t take your lighter with you, so... so I thought…”

The words disappear in his hair and he wishes he could speak right now because there are a thousand ‘thank you’s he owes.

“I don’t hate you, Gavin, I promise.”

He just hopes the tears he’s leaving on Connor’s body are enough of a response.

@convinseptember hope it wasn’t too bad xD

#convinseptember #convin #sorry this one is dark

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beautymercurydragon · 5 years ago

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The Miraculous fandom is actually horrible. They claim Adrien is a terrible person/has sexually harassed Marinette. Sure, he is not perfect and might do things without thinking, but he’s definitely not anywhere on the levels of the likes of his father, Lila, Chloe, Nathalie, and Felix.

Felix: Stole his father’s rings that belonged to him ‘back’ because his mother ‘owns them’, deleted the kind messages from his cousin’s friends that were meant to make him feel better on the one-year anniversary of his mother’s death, aka FELIX’S AUNT, made Adrien look like an actual bad person in front of his friends, resulting in three of them getting akumatized, and more, but the fandom loves him

Chloe: Was a xenophobic bitch to Marinette’s great-uncle in season one, was at fault for everyone in Marinette’s girl crew along with some of the guys (Kim and Nathaniel) getting akumatized in that same season as well, treats her best and only friend like utter shit, still is a bitch to the entire class, endangered hundreds of citizens’ lives during the train incident in the Queens’ Battle, cried and moaned when she was called out in Malediktator and is pretty much behind the reason of her father getting akumatized, also put herself in danger when revealing her hero identity to the entire city, putting her and her family in danger of Hawk Moth, is also at fault for Vanisher, Rogercop, and Despair Bear, was 100% at fault for the Miraculer akumatization as well, excuses all of the shit she’s done by saying ‘everybody adores me!’, and finally, was actually a partial reason Miracle Queen happened, considering she actually gave in, everyone still adores her and is pissed about her redemption being ‘ruined’

Lila: Stole Adrien’s father’s book, which Adrien took for an actual good reason, she lied, threw her likely expensive computer across the room like it was no big deal when it actually is, willingly gets herself akumatized, tricked the people of Paris into thinking one of their heroes was killed while the other went rogue with her illusions, threatened a classmate that she hates when nobody else was around, tricked the entire class right after the episode where they praise Marinette and call her their ‘everyday Ladybug’ into believing her with her lies (the writers only did it for angst, Chameleon is the one episode I hate for the bad writing and poor characterization, everything else is fine), faked getting pushed down the stairs and injured, plays victim 24/7, got the same classmate she bullies expelled from school for a day and nearly put the city in danger again, got another one of her ‘enemies’ (Kagami) akumatized and almost got herself killed, and more that I could add but won’t

Nathalie: Willingly lets her boss terrorize the city on a daily basis, is just as horrible as he is, joined him with the other stolen Miraculous, lies to the boy she ‘cares for as a son’, doesn’t listen whenever Gabriel tells her to not be Mayura, told on Adrien to Gabriel about him being Chat Noir, and finally, she’s also at fault for the catalyst of horrific events that was the akumatization of Chat Blanc, both by ratting Adrien out like the snitch she is and breaking the news about breaking up with Adrien to Marinette at the Dupain-Cheng bakery

And Gabriel: TERRORIZES THE CITY ON A DAILY FUCKING BASIS, takes advantage of teenagers’ emotions for his own personal gain, has likely killed people with his akumas before the Miraculous Ladybugs fix everything, making him AN ACTUAL MURDERER, abuses and neglects his son both physically and emotionally, keeps his wife’s comatose body in the basement of his home and showed it to his son, likely scarring him for life, and right after that, whacked his son out of his house and across Paris with a cane, akumatized him in front of the Eiffel Tower on the spot as his son screamed for him to stop as well the girl who’s his partner begged as well and watched in horror, all of which resulted in him being killed by his son’s villain form in the CB timeline, manipulated Chloe into betraying Ladybug and Chat Noir and becoming the Mad Queen of the show, lets his son’s classmate (Lila) who’s done awful things help him carry out his plan as both a civilian and villain, has akumatized his ‘friend’ Tomoe Tsurugi once and her daughter/his son’s now girlfriend THREE times (counting Heroes’ Day), took advantage of Juleka’s anxiety attack in Reflekdoll to try and get her to assist him in defeating LB and CN again, has akumatized a baby (August) multiple times, along with four young children (Chris, Manon, Ella and Etta), along with his good friend Audrey Bourgeois and her husband on their 20-year anniversary, and at his own fashion show just so he could try to get his wife back for the millionth time, has akumatized nearly the entire Francoise Dupont school, and finally, could have caused actual global warming with Stormy Weather 2.

Yet all these salters still think Adrien’s a horrible, irredeemable person who’s a POS. All of the five above are much worse.

I’m a huge fan of Adrien. He’s one of the best-written characters in Miraculous, and I absolutely adore him. Do I agree with all of his actions? No. Do I think he can still grow and change with help from the right people? Absolutely, yes.

Nino, Marinette, Alya, Kagami, Chloe, and the rest of the class are all great friends to him and will help him learn and grow.

I may not like Chloe, but I definitely do think she has chance and potential for redemption, 100%.

Adrien and Chloe may not be perfect, but I still believe they can change. Anybody can, as long as they try. (I’m not including Lila, because she clearly shows zero signs of wanting to lol.)

Neither of them are fully grown. Throughout time, both Chloe and Adrien will find the time and chances to learn and grow. It isn’t over for either of them, not at all.

But yet everyone still believes Adrien doesn’t have a chance to grow, learn and mature. If you all think Chloe still has a chance to do so and change her behavior, then Adrien still has a chance and the time to grow and learn from his mistakes.

#pro-adrien agreste #pro-adrien #pro adrien #adrien agreste #adrien protection squad #adrien agreste defense #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous: tales of ladybug and chat noir #anti ml salt #anti ml fandom #adrien sugar #anti adrien salt #anti adrien haters

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quicksilversquared · 5 years ago

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The World’s Most Obvious Trap

As the new Guardian, Marinette wants to get a solid advantage over Hawkmoth, or- even better- defeat him for once and for all. That sounds like a really daunting task, but with a little creativity- and a little magical help from the long-lost Order of the Guardians- it might just be possible.

References S3 finale spoilers

Links in the reblog

Hawkmoth raced along the rooftops, eyes trained on Ladybug as she ran along in the street below. She was dodging between cars, clearly trying to throw him off and lose him, but with no luck on her end. She just wasn't fast or slick enough to give him the slip, which meant that soon enough, she would mess up and he would win. He would get her earrings and the Miracle Box soon enough, and then his akuma would take down the cat and get his ring.

Why Ladybug had made such an amateur mistake as to actually bring out the entire Miracle Box Hawkmoth didn't know- maybe she hadn't decided what other holders she would need to tap yet and panicked enough that she had just grabbed the entire thing- but frankly, he didn't care. All that mattered was him getting his hands on that box.

And then Ladybug tripped.

Hawkmoth could hear the gasps from the few foolish onlookers as she fell face-first on the pavement and the Box- if it could even be called that, it looked more like an egg now, or perhaps an strange attempt at a replica of her yo-yo- slipped out of her arms, first bouncing and then rolling away. Ladybug yelped and tried to scramble to her feet, but Hawkmoth was faster. In a flash, he was down on the street, snatching up the Miracle Box and racing away before Ladybug could come up with the presence of mind to try to stop him with her yo-yo. Back to the rooftops, then leaping over one street, two, three, racing along.

He wasn't going to lose the Box this time. No more handing it out to anyone else, except for Nathalie. That way, no dumb mistakes would be made, and he could make full use of the range of powers that the entire box of Miraculous would give him. He already had plans for several of them, power combinations that Ladybug and Chat Noir wouldn't be able to do anything about.

Second Chance, for one, would mean that their very next fight could very well be their last. Hawkmoth could keep resetting things until they went the way he wanted to. Voyage would let him pop up behind the superheroes without them noticing, too. And the Rabbit would mean that he could help himself in the battles, pulling a future him and Nathalie in to fight alongside their present selves, probably with different Miraculous. As for the others...

Well, Hawkmoth would look at them with Nathalie tonight, and between the two of them, they could come up with the best combinations for them to use. Perhaps they wouldn't get the other two Miraculous today- being too hasty to act could mean losing the Box again, just like they had before- but it wouldn't be long.

Several streets back, Ladybug dusted herself off and rejoined Chat Noir where he had been hidden in an alleyway nearby, ready to step in if Hawkmoth had gone after Ladybug himself. The two of them exchanged a triumphant look and subtle fist bump, trying to hide their smiles.

Hawkmoth thought that he had won this battle, but instead, he had fallen straight into their trap. It wouldn't be the supervillain's victory that would be happening soon, but theirs.

And they couldn't wait.

It started several weeks after Marinette became Guardian of the Zodiac Box, after she spent an evening brainstorming ways to end the war with the flock of kwamis now under her guard. It was a big task, and a daunting one after only really countering Hawkmoth's attacks for so long, but it was a step that Marinette thought that they had to take.

After all, Hawkmoth had made gains with his thief of Master Fu's tablet (which Marinette had told her mentor to at least password-lock, but of course he hadn't), his fixing of the Peacock Miraculous, and his knowledge of most of their backup team. Meanwhile, the superheroes had lost their mentor and his knowledge beyond what he had passed down to Marinette. She had gotten a copy of the notes from his tablet to study before it was stolen, at least, so they hadn't lost everything, but there had been even more knowledge in Master Fu's head before he had gotten memory-wiped after renouncing his role as Guardian.

(And that whole bit was definitely a concern of hers, but- like a lot of her personal troubles and worries- it would have to wait until an undefined later to be dealt with.)

Their careful balance between superheroes and supervillains had been disrupted, and it was getting more dangerous for them to continue as they were. She and Chat Noir had to make some headway in figuring out who Hawkmoth and Mayura were, so that they could start some of their own offensive strikes before it was too late and so she wouldn't have to be so stressed out about balancing her superhero and civilian lives.

Thus, the kwami war-meeting.

"I would say to add more permanent holders, but you're still testing out new teammates," Ziggy said, sighing. "And it would probably be a good idea to find some people who aren't in your class, since Hawkmoth's going to have a close eye on you guys."

Marinette groaned. She knew that, in the back of her mind, but she had been ignoring it. After all, she had only been kind-of friends with people in other classes in previous years and didn't know them well enough to assign a Miraculous to them, so she had more or less defaulted to giving Miraculous to her friends. "That's a good point. Though!" She perked up as a thought hit her. "If people really switch up their transformation- because I know that the Miraculous can change what people look like- I might still be able to re-use some of our old teammates! Not Chloe, obviously, and they wouldn't be able to keep their Miraculous, just in case," she added. "But they have battle experience, which is helpful."

The kwamis considered that.

"It could work, but maybe give them some time to think of a new look," Wayzz finally told Marinette. "They'll want their hair color and style changed, for sure- and the suits! Those have to be changed up for sure. No two people are the same, and their suits will reflect that. It will have to be quite the conscious decision to change them."

Marinette nodded, writing that down on her to-do list. That made sense. "Okay. I'll try to do that this week- and since Chat Noir knows everyone, he can help, too. I'll just have to make it clear that we're definitely skipping Chloe. There's no point in getting her hopes up again, not when she made such a nuisance of herself last time."

There were noises of agreement at that, and even Pollen nodded her head sadly. She had clearly had hopes for Chloe, but Chloe just wasn't willing to let herself grow and learn at the moment.

"But that's still just a stopgap," Marinette mused, tapping her chin. "We tried following the butterflies back to Hawkmoth last summer, but that was a no-go. It's impractical to try to spot the akumas before they possess people, because it would take forever to even figure out where they were coming from. If we could make some sort of trap, one that we could deploy whenever Hawkmoth comes out, something where we could be sure that we wouldn't just accidentally trap civilians as well- that would be nice, but I don't know how practical that would be to even try."

The kwamis considered that.

"Well, you would definitely want something that relies heavily on magic," Trixx told her, spinning around in thought. "There's probably a spell that could do that somewhere! Not in the grimoire, though. It wouldn't be related enough to the Miraculous for that."

"And spells like that would take an experienced spellcaster," Wayzz chimed in. "I don't know if Master Fu would have been able to pull some of those off. He hadn't gotten to that part of his training when... well, when the temple was destroyed."

Marinette slumped, discouraged. "Well, it doesn't help much if I don't have the spells and wouldn't be able to cast them, either. I wish I had more mentors. I mean, Master Fu was great, but he had only been an apprentice, and now-"

"The temple is back!"

All of them swung around to stare at Kaalki, who was prancing around in clear excitement. After a second, Ziggy gasped and joined her, zipping around in circles. "The temple is back! The temple is back!"

"I- yes?" Marinette managed, blinking at them as two more kwamis joined the excited chant. "But it's in Tibet, and we don't know if the temple being back means that the monks are, too- oh, and if they aren't, that probably means that it would fall on me to make sure that the other Miracle boxes don't get stolen, and oh gosh, it's been weeks, people could have already raided the temple- but I can't leave Paris to go check on it, Hawkmoth could attack again and I can't leave Chat Noir alone, but I can't hope that Hawkmoth won't go over there unannounced- or what if he has Mayura do it? Ugh, this is too much to consider-"

"The old Guardians were brought out of limbo, too!" Pollen chirped loudly, snapping Marinette out of her spiraling. "We've been in contact with the other kwamis, now that they've been restored. We did tell Master Fu, but I guess we forgot to mention it to you."

Marinette settled back on the floor, suddenly boneless with relief and whiplash. "They- they are? Oh, good- but do they know about Hawkmoth? I mean, that footage of the temple was broadcast all over Paris, multiple times- he knows about them, I bet that he's planning on attacking them, too, and if they're not expecting it-"

"They know, and they've protected the temple!" Longg practically shouted, cutting off Marinette's second spiraling panic attack in just as many minutes before it could really get going. He waited for her to stop hyperventilating again, then continued. "They gathered up all of the boxes and scrolls and everything from the temple only hours after coming out of limbo and hid in their emergency cave nearby until they could get wards and traps up to protect themselves. I'm surprised that the news didn't say anything about the temple vanishing again after a couple days, because it's now shielded from the outside world."

"But I still don't see how that helps me," Marinette said, frowning. "They're in Tibet, and it sounds like I wouldn't be able to find them anyway, even if I could leave Paris."

Kaalki gave a delicate cough, and Marinette blinked at her for a moment before groaning. "Right, right, Voyage! But...the temple would still be hidden. And there would be a language barrier, too. I doubt that they would just happen to speak French."

"We could give them a heads-up that you would be coming, and then they can let you in," Sass told her. "And the kwamis could translate. We can make it work, for sure."

Marinette perked up at that, finally letting hope well back up. She wasn't alone anymore, not really. She could get new mentors, ones that were well out of Hawkmoth's range, were more than able to defend themselves, and had more training. She would still miss Master Fu, but she could soften the loss at least. "Oh! Great! But I want to come up with a trap idea before I go there. Maybe it's just a pride thing, but it's going to be my first time meeting them, and I'm a Guardian, too, and, like..." She let out a long breath. "I don't want their first impression of me to be of a blundering hero who doesn't know what she's doing."

"They won't think that, Marinette!" Wayzz assured her quickly. "They understand that the role of Guardian was thrust upon you when you weren't ready, and you were trained by a mentor whose training was less than complete. But if you want to go in with a little more planning in place, that's understandable. We can brainstorm more."

And so they all puzzled. Marinette tapped her pencil against her lips, trying to think of what kind of trap she could use. The kwamis had assured her that whatever kind of trapping spell she could think of, the monks at the temple either had a spell that fit that bill or would be able to develop one. She wanted something that could be portable, because Hawkmoth just turned up wherever the akuma fights were and those could be anywhere in the city. It had to be clever, because anything obvious Hawkmoth would figure out right away-

-or would he?

Marinette frowned at that. Hawkmoth had akumatized the same people over and over, with the same powers instead of adding on. He had missed really obvious openings, and given akumas powers that would destroy or hide the Miraculous instead of trapping them on more than one occasion, and not just when they were all just starting out. He had set-ups that seemed complex and like they should guarantee a win for him, but they fell apart around him. He got cocky and then messed up.

So something a bit on the obvious side could work.

Her fingers tapped at her notepad, trying to think. Best-case scenario, Marinette wanted to get both Hawkmoth and Mayura trapped at the same time, to finish up the fight for good. That meant that her trap would have to have a spell that wouldn't make it obvious that it was a trap- like, Hawkmoth couldn't be visibly contained- and the containment had to be in such a way that Mayura couldn't just let him go. Which meant that if Hawkmoth could be sucked into a sort of limbo, maybe, which suggested that he would have to touch something, maybe.

It hit her like a thunderbolt. What did Hawkmoth want- well, besides their Miraculous? The other Miraculous, which would give him a huge advantage. Obviously she didn't want to endanger any of the other Miraculous at all, so maybe she could make replica Miraculous to use in their place, and possibly a replica Miracle Box, too. If she could get some sort of trapping spell that would activate upon contact with skin, and then some sort of locator spell on the box, all the superheroes would need to do once the supervillains got their hands on it would be to wait for a bit to make sure that the supervillains weren't still roaming free, then stroll on in and collect it. Then, once they had had a bit of a rest, they could free the supervillains to defeat them and collect their Miraculous one at a time, in a time and place of their choosing, with all of the backup heroes they wanted. It was perfect.

Now, all they had to do was figure out how to make it work.

Chains and cording and beads and clay and resin came together to one faux-Miraculous after another, banged out between akuma attacks and homework. Some pieces Marinette just bought from the store- the Ox's nose ring, the Horse's glasses, the Rooster's ring, and a pocket watch that she could modify into a decent enough replica of the Rabbit- but for most of the pieces, she put the pieces together herself.

Marinette still hadn't decided if she wanted to try to make a faux Miracle Box or if she just wanted to empty the real Miraculous into a temporary container and just use the real thing. If the box had stayed in the same shape as before it might have been straightforward- difficult and fiddly, but straightforward- to make a copy, but with her new box...

Maybe it was kinda cool that it was the same shape as her yo-yo, but it wasn't nearly as convenient.

"I think I should go visit the Guardians now," Marinette said, two weeks after coming up with her plan. "I mean, I'm nearly done with my Miraculous copies, and most of a plan in place. It seems like it's actually enough to show that I've done some of my own work, and I'm not relying entirely on the Order-"

"Which still would have been completely fine and entirely understandable," Tikki reminded her. "Which we did tell you. Are you going this afternoon?"

Marinette nodded. "Yeah. I don't have anything going on, I've told my parents that I'm studying at the library, and Alya is busy with Lila and the other girls. I don't have anything going on- and yes, I'm positive, because I've turned down stuff or canceled it ever since I came up with our plan so that I could get stuff done." She let out a long breath. "I'm ready to meet them. I just- I hope they aren't too strict, and that we can come up with a solution, and- Tikki, is it dumb if I'm worried about them wanting to come in and take over our fight in Paris? Like, it would be a huge weight off of my shoulders, sure, but it's been Chat Noir and I for ages leading the fight and doing it on our own, and for someone else to finish it..."

"I understand," Tikki assured her. "You've been the authority on the akumas since the start. But I don't think you'll have much to worry about! The other Guardians will probably be happy to play support. Just because they're older doesn't mean that they'll automatically assume that they know more about the situation."

"Good." Letting out a long breath, Marinette climbed up to her bed and unlocked the trunk where she was keeping the Miraculous, punching in the code for her inner box, then pulling out the Miracle Box. Three minutes later, Marinette was standing in the middle of her room with the Horse's glasses on, facing a last-minute bout of nerves.

"I have to know where I'm going to use the Horse, though," she fussed, fiddling with the top of her bag. "And I know what the temple looks like, but the wards will keep me out, I thought, and what if an akuma pops up- I mean, I know we just had one this morning, but two in a day isn't unheard of, just uncommon."

"I am also connected to the akuma alert system," Tikki reminded her. "Sure, your phone might be out of range, but I'll know. And Plagg can contact me, too, there's not a range limit on that. As for the temple, well..." She gestured to Kaalki. "She can explain better than I can."

"My last holder used coordinates, because that was a system that he was comfortable with," Kaalki told Marinette. "And sure, it you can picture a location, that's great, too. But for this- I would say just listen to your gut, and you'll end up there."

That sent Marinette into a round of giggles. "I'd rather not end up inside of my gut, thanks. That sounds cramped and probably breaks some rules of, like, time and space."

"Oh, you-" Kaalki swiped at her, clearly not upset at all. "You know what I mean! Just follow your gut feeling, and I'll get you just outside of the temple's wards. Let's go!"

Marinette nodded, letting out a long breath before calling on her dual transformation. Maybe it wasn't necessary- she didn't need to be transformed with Tikki, after all- but it was comforting to have her normal transformation and her yo-yo at her side when she was going into unfamiliar territory.

Besides, maybe the Guardians would be more likely to take her seriously if they saw superheroine Ladybug instead of normal civilian Marinette.

With one last deep breath, she relaxed and called on the feeling inside of her. "Voyage!"

The portal opened, and Ladybug stepped through. Her bedroom vanished, and suddenly she was standing at the edge of a valley bottom, looking out at mountains and a very, very empty field of green grass.

The portal closed.

"Okay, so I'm in Tibet now," Ladybug told the air, releasing the Horse part of her transformation. Kaalki spiraled free. "Uh. I guess I'll just...walk forward?"

"No, just wait!" Kaalki insisted. "Some of their wards aren't the friendliest, so you want to wait for a guide. They'll have a lookout who should see you soon enough. In the meantime- a snack?"

Ladybug nodded, reaching into her yo-yo to pull out the baggie of apple slices that she had stored there. "Of course. Here you go- oh, look, there's someone there!"

The old man who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere smiled, stepping closer and holding out a hand. "Greetings. You must be the newest guardian. Welcome to our temple- please, come in. We have a lot to talk about."

The monks of the Order were friendly, if a bit formal, Ladybug decided as she talked with several of the eldest members of the temple. Their words were a bit stilted- apparently there was a translation spell in play- but they wanted to help her in any way they could. She had explained her idea for a trap right away, and already they had their best spellcasters on the job, looking through books and scrolls to find something suitable. While they waited, the monks answered some of Marinette's questions, getting a feel for what she had been taught and what Master Fu had not yet had a chance to touch on.

There was a lot that she still had to be taught.

"Not all of it is critical, of course," Master Tenzin told her, smiling. "I think that your plan to trap Hawkmoth will work well, and then you can call on your backups and us as well to defeat him and his assistant at your leisure. But it's good knowledge to have, so that we can build upon it and not lose it in the future, in case it's needed."

"Of course," Ladybug agreed. Everything was really interesting to learn, really, and it was nice to know what was possible so that she would know what was an option for plans in the future. "It will be nice to learn at my own pace, too. With Master Fu, we were rushing because we didn't know how much time we would have, and lessons with him plus my schooling plus akuma attacks and my regular civilian responsibilities..."

The monks around her nodded.

"That is why historically, we took in children and taught them here full-time," Master Sonam commented. "But I can see where that would be unpractical in this day and in your situation."

Ladybug smiled and nodded. She couldn't come here and learn in the same way that Master Fu had, even if she had wanted to. She had her own hopes and dreams beyond the Miraculous, and she wasn't going to give them up just because she had been picked to be Ladybug.

Before any of the other Masters could say anything else, one of the spellcasters stuck her head in, beaming. "We found a spell that's a perfect fit for what Ladybug wanted. It activates upon contact with skin and will suck the trapee into limbo. It's a fairly simple spell to release, and we can control how many people are let out at a time. And it will work with a small object such as the replica Miraculous."

Ladybug grinned, unable to help herself. "Oh, that's fantastic!"

"Will the replicas be ready soon, Amrita?" Master Tenzin inquired. "Or is it a multi-step spell?"

"It will take a couple days to cast the spell," Amrita told them. "There's a potion to soak the pieces in before the spell can be cast. But it will be less than a week, for sure. And we wanted to know, Ladybug- would you like us to create a replica Miracle Box with magic? It will take one more thing off of your plate. All we will need is a drawing. And the fake Miraculous, of course."

Ladybug perked up, flipping open her yo-yo so that she could pull out her baggie of replicas. She had finished the last one right before she came, which meant that everything was ready to go. "That's easy enough. Chat Noir and I found out recently that we can print out photos from our weapons, so if I just hit some buttons..."

The monks watched with interest as Ladybug punched several buttons, swiping to find the picture she had taken of her new Miracle Box. Another couple of buttons, and soon enough the yo-yo was spitting out a small photo, just like a Polaroid.

"Oh, that's different," Amrita commented as soon as Ladybug handed the photo over. "It looks kind of like your yo-yo! The spots aren't in the same places, of course, since there's a different number of them, but I can see the intention behind it."

Ladybug had to laugh at that. "That sounds like a nice way of saying that you don't like the design that much."

"No, it's just- I've gotten used to the Miracle Boxes looking a certain way, that's all." Amrita considered the picture. "We can do that, though. The kwamis will let you know when we've gotten everything ready."

"Thank you."

"On that note, we should probably let you go," Master Tenzin told Ladybug. "I had lost track of the time! We've been talking for quite a while. I can walk you to the edge of our wards."

"Of course." Ladybug sprang to her feet, making sure to do a quick bow to each of the monks and Amrita before following Master Tenzin out of the temple. He moved quickly for an older man, though she wasn't that surprised considering how speedy Master Fu could be when he wanted to.

"I am glad that you were able to come to us today," Master Tenzin told her as they reached the boundary of the wards. "It was great getting to meet you, Ladybug, and to learn more about the situation in Paris. I look forward to seeing you again."

"I- I had one more question before I go," Ladybug said quickly, trying not to sound as hesitant as she felt. It was just- well, maybe it wasn't exactly a pressing issue, but she had to know about the memory thing. "When Master Fu passed the role of Guardian down to me, he lost all of his memories. And I- I was wondering... I mean, I can understand it being for safety, but..."

Master Tenzin smiled, understanding. "Ah, yes. With Ladybug being such a big part of your life for so long and defining who you are, I can understand how the prospect of losing your Miraculous-related memories would be intimidating. But one size does not fit all; not all situations can be solved with the same solution. Likewise, there are many ways that a Guardian can pass on their duties, and most do not include full loss of Miraculous memories."

Ladybug's heart leapt. "There- there are?"

"Correct." He considered her, head tilting slightly to the side. "In this situation, Wang Fu knew your identity, and Chat Noir's, and the identities of a number of temporary superheroes as well. His identity, if the kwamis relayed the information correctly, was compromised. You were facing an active battle situation. If he did not renounce his Guardianship when he had the chance with you, he ran the risk of being taken hostage and being drilled for information. So he did a full wipe- which, I might add, is the type that we first drill into our trainees, because it is the most straightforward. In other situations, Guardians could opt for partial wipes or, if they were not in danger, no information wipes at all. We can cover different options the next time you visit, if you wish."

"That would be great, thank you." Ladybug bowed to him. "That is a load off of my mind. Thank you for taking the time to teach me today."

"It was our pleasure." Master Tenzin smiled at her. "Good day, Ladybug."

With one last bow, Ladybug called Kaalki to her, then summoned Voyage. In a flash, she was back in her bedroom in Paris. She was beaming as she detransformed.

"I take it that things went well?" Tikki asked, smiling. "You look happy."

"It was nice to get my questions answered," Marinette told her, grinning even wider. "It's a load off of my shoulders. And to have that last bit of the puzzle with the spells figured out- that was great, too. I have a whole support network there now."

Tikki spun in a happy circle. "That's great! I could tell that you got comfortable pretty quickly when you were there. I'm happy for you. What's next?"

Marinette considered that. "Well, I need to bring Chat Noir up to date for sure. He needs to know the plan, and that we're going to be ending the fights soon. I'd love to bring him along next time I go to the temple, too. He's my partner, after all."

"I think he'll like that," Tikki assured her. "And two heads are better than one! Maybe you'll have the temple to go to when you need it, but it's always nice to have backup that's close by, too."

With the full power of the Order of the Guardians behind her and on the case, it was barely a week before Ladybug got the message that her trap-box with all of the cursed Miraculous replicas was ready to go. She and Chat Noir popped over to pick it up and visit the temple (and introduce Chat Noir to all of the monks, because he had been super curious and Ladybug wasn't going to deny her partner the opportunity to learn more) before being pulled away mid-visit by their akuma alerts going off.

It seemed as though they might have an opportunity to set their trap earlier than they had thought.

"Let me stash the box for now," Ladybug said, letting Kaalki free as she dropped the Horse part of her transformation. She smiled at the kwami, then took the glasses off and popped them in her yo-yo for the time being. "We don't know if Hawkmoth will come out or not this fight, so there's no point in carrying it around until we've seen it."

"Yeah, but where?" Chat Noir wanted to know. "It's not like your... yoyo...is..." He trailed off, staring in disbelief as Ladybug tucked the Miracle Box into her much smaller yo-yo. "How?"

"Magic?" Ladybug suggested, snapping her yo-yo shut before dangling it from her fingers, ready to throw. "I don't know. I wanted it to work, so it did."

It didn't take long for them to catch up to the akuma. There was no sentimonster to go along with it this time, which was nice, and it just seemed to be a rather run-of-the-mill akuma. It was strange that they could say that about an akuma that seemed to be directing an army of rubber ducks down the street, but- rather unfortunately- it was pretty similar to something they had seen before.

Of course, Hawkmoth had come out that time, too, so maybe it wasn't a bad thing after all. The sooner they got the faux-Box to him, the sooner they could bring all of this to a close and the sooner they could actually have at least some semblance of a normal life again.

Ten minutes into the fight, there was a shout from a civilian in one of the windows above, and the superheroes glanced up to see Hawkmoth on the rooftops, poorly concealed by a chimney. He sneered at the civilian, who slammed their window shut immediately, and Ladybug and Chat Noir took the opportunity to dash off, "retreating" onto a side street and then continuing their run away from the fight. Both akuma and supervillain let out shouts of frustration, and they ran faster.

They had to make it look convincing that Ladybug could have gone home and gotten the Miracle Box. If they could lose Hawkmoth for a few minutes, then zip back into his field of vision "accidentally", it would look much more convincing.

Hawkmoth might be dumb, but he wasn't so incredibly dumb as to think that it wasn't at least a little suspicious for Ladybug to vanish for only a minute before reappearing with all of the Miraculous under her arm. They couldn't drop the ball and take the easy way out now.

After a couple streets, Ladybug and Chat Noir took to the skies to move faster, then converged as though briefly discussing a plan before separating and dropping into different streets. Ladybug ducked down a manhole, following the sewer system for a short distance. Chat Noir joined her, wrinkling his nose slightly as they worked their way to another street. He would get into position a couple blocks in front of her, and then be on hand in case anything went wrong with their trap.

Her yo-yo beeped to let Ladybug know that Chat Noir was in place and hidden, and she checked her yo-yo to make sure she knew where he was before pulling out the fake Miracle Box and bounding out to the street, using her yo-yo to swing up into the sky a couple times to get Hawkmoth's attention before swinging lower, still fast but not as visible, and then dropping to straight running on the ground.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Hawkmoth landing on the rooftops and starting to give chase. Ladybug sent a "panicked" look over her shoulder, then upped her speed, dodging and weaving among the abandoned cars in the street as though she was trying to confuse him.

She was closing in on Chat Noir's block. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Hawkmoth got the box early, but Ladybug would feel safer if she "fell" where Chat Noir could help if Hawkmoth decided to come after her instead of going for the box. With another glance behind her, Ladybug sped up. She could see Chat Noir's alleyway ahead of her, closer, closer-

Considering how often Marinette tripped over her own two feet, it was no great difficulty to do a convincing flying stumble, her arms flailing and sending the trap-box spinning through the air. Ladybug hit the ground with an oof and laid there for a second before scrambling to her knees, doing her best to look like she was doing her best to get the box again before Hawkmoth.

Hawkmoth looked thrilled as he scooped up the box, sending a smirk over his shoulder at Ladybug as he took off. Ladybug made to go after him, but as soon as he was out of sight, she dropped the act and headed for Chat Noir, making sure that they were out of sight of everyone in the street before exchanging a triumphant look and fist bump.

"Hook, line, and sinker," Chat Noir proclaimed, grinning. "Nice planning, my Lady. Now, what would you say to going and defeating that akuma to kill a bit of time?"

"I think that sounds perfect."

Hawkmoth made sure to lose Ladybug on his way back to his lair, dashing through back alleys and hiding in several spots. It wasn't until a glimpse at the news told him that both superheroes had returned to the akuma battle that he felt comfortable making the final dash back inside, retreating to his lair and abruptly releasing his transformation. His akuma had been defeated, after all, and there was no point in holding Nooroo in any longer. Besides, it would be better to try out the extra transformations individually, in order to get a better feel for them.

"What to try first," Gabriel mused, tapping his fingers against the box. He pressed each individual spot-section, smirk growing wider as one drawer after another popped out with a Miraculous in it. The number of Miraculous at his fingertips... it was incredible.

There would be no trusting spoiled, irresponsible teenagers with the entire chest of magic jewelry now. Miraculously, the universe had given him a second chance with the Miracle Box, and he wasn't going to waste it again. Gabriel and Nathalie- and perhaps an akumatized minion, and a future Gabriel and Nathalie come back with the Rabbit to help out- would be the only ones using these extra Miraculous this time around.

There was the Fox, the Turtle, the Bee. The Snake, the Dragon, the Horse... Gabriel tapped his lips, trying to pick one. After another long pause, Gabriel reached for the Dragon. That was a nice, strong Miraculous, and the powers presented some interesting possibilities. His fingers closed over the Miraculous, excitement building in his veins-

-and then there was a flash of light, and then nothing at all.

Nathalie checked the news feed on her tablet as the Gorilla drove her back to the mansion. She had had to take Gabriel's place at the latest Gabriel staff meeting, which had meant that she hadn't been on hand to help with the latest attempt to get Ladybug and Chat Noir's Miraculous. That was unfortunate but not avoidable, really, and Nathalie could only hope that Gabriel wasn't in too sour of a mood. Still, it wasn't looking promising- from the sounds of it, the akuma battle had been relatively short and Hawkmoth's appearance had been just as brief, with him vanishing almost as soon as he had arrived. That suggested that the superheroes had gotten the drop on him, perhaps, and he had had to retreat to make sure that he wasn't defeated. There wasn't much else that would cause such a short appearance, really-

And then Nathalie spotted a blurred photo of Hawkmoth dashing across the rooftops, a rather familiar-looking box tucked under his arm. The new Miracle Box, unless Nathalie's eyes were deceiving her.

Somehow, Gabriel had gotten his hands on it again. No matter how the rest of the fight went, if he had managed to get more Miraculous, he was bound to be in better spirits than normal. It was surprising that he hadn't texted her yet, perhaps, but it could very well be that he was too excited and focused on trying out all of the new Miraculous to remember to let her know.

Trying not to smile, Nathalie tapped her fingers against her tablet impatiently as the car picked its way through the midday traffic, brainstorming ways that they could incorporate their new powers. It wouldn't take more than a fight or two for them to take the superheroes down now if they played their cards right.

The car pulled through the mansion gates, and Nathalie thanked the Gorilla quickly before sliding out of the car and walking as briskly as she could up to the front doors. Through the doors, across the atrium- Adrien was still out of the house, right? Hopefully she wasn't meant to be checking in on him and forgetting- unlock the office doors before heading inside, re-lock them as soon as they clicked shut. As soon as she was sure that they wouldn't be interrupted, Nathalie strode over to the hidden elevator and punched in the combination for the lair, tapping her foot impatiently as the machinery whirred into motion and brought her down, over, and then up, up, up, slowing down slightly as she approached the lair.

The lair, which was empty.

"Gabriel?" Nathalie called, frowning as she stepped forward. He had left the window open and as Nathalie watched, a couple butterflies escaped. Based on the number that were fluttering around, either Gabriel hadn't harvested more lately or a lot of them had gotten free. "Gabriel, are you here?"

There was no response. Nathalie's frown deepened for a moment as she considered the scene, trying to figure out what might have happened. And then, all at once, it hit her.

Of course Gabriel hadn't been able to wait to try out his new powers, since they hadn't had the chance to do a test run of any of the other Miraculous the last time they had the box. He had probably picked one out and transformed, then gone out for a run or something. Maybe he had grabbed the Horse Miraculous and used it, and so he was somewhere else in the city altogether.

The smart thing to do, of course, would be to wait for Gabriel to return so that he could play the part of lead supervillain, the head of their team, and Nathalie could be the obedient sidekick. But what Gabriel didn't know couldn't hurt him, and Nathalie rather wanted to try out a couple of the Miraculous on her own. The Bee's powers, for instance, looked like they could be promising in the right hands (and the right hands were not those of Miss Bourgeois), and the Fox could be used for distraction, and then there were several Miraculous that they had yet to see in play...

With one more glance around, Nathalie knelt down next to the box. Her fingers tapped the side in thought, and then she reached out for the Bee Miraculous. That would be the best place to start, probably, and then while she was transformed she could try to figure out where Gabriel was. Plan decided, Nathalie grabbed the comb.

She didn't even have a chance to scream before she, too, was gone.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had recharged and let the Guardians know that the box had been deployed, then retreated to a secluded rooftop to wait for the signal that both supervillains had been trapped. There was no small amount of excitement in the air, giddiness at a successful trap set making both of them a little giggly.

"I didn't think it would happen so soon," Chat Noir said again, leaning back on his hands. "I mean, sure, Hawkmoth has been coming out for fights more and more often, and Mayura too- who knows where she was today- but I thought that we would have to wait a couple days. And I was just kind of like, how am I meant to sleep if we're waiting for that to happen? I would be too wound up to actually fall asleep."

"I'm still not going to be able to sleep," Ladybug admitted, fiddling with the strings of her yo-yo. "Especially if we don't get the signal today. Like, what if one of them gets sucked in, but the other doesn't? If they're in the same room and are actually cautious about it, the second person might decide not to risk touching anything."

"And then we're kind of left in limbo ourselves," Chat Noir finished. He flopped onto his back. "Okay, that's fair. Ugh. Now I'm going to worry about that, too."

"Sorry."

They fell into silence again, eyes occasionally scanning the Paris skyline. They had been told- or, rather, shouted to- that once both supervillains were trapped, twin magic beams of light would be shot into the sky, no matter what barriers stood between the box and the sky above. The spells would use the lingering magic from the Peacock and the Butterfly to identify the two supervillains, so that they could be sure that it was actually Hawkmoth and Mayura who were caught, not just random unlucky civilians. It was a complex, multilayered set of spells, and they were lucky to have people on their side who could manage that.

"What's the first thing that you're going to do once this is over?" Chat Noir asked, his voice quiet and barely carrying over the sound of the normal Paris traffic below. "Do you have plans?"

Ladybug huffed out a laugh. "I've been too busy to come up with plans. But I guess..." She trailed off, thinking. "I want to spend more time with my friends and family. Recently, I've really been holding off on making plans with people because they notice when I have to leave, and it stinks to have to miss things. I want to spend more time on my hobbies, because I don't know when the last time was that I designed anything and that stinks. I know the Guardians want to teach us stuff, too, but I might need a bit of a break before I go jumping into more Miraculous stuff."

"Being a normal teen sounds nice," Chat Noir agreed. "I mean, with my family- I've never exactly had that normal to start with, but more normal than what I have now would be nice-" His voice trailed off with a choke, and then Chat Noir raised a trembling hand, pointing at something behind Ladybug. "Bugaboo, the- the light has gone off. Look."

Ladybug perked up, spinning around. Less than an hour after their akuma battle had ended, they had the supervillains trapped! Her excitement rose-

And then crashed to the ground, shock and horror taking their place as what she was seeing sunk in fully. Twin beams of purple and blue shot into the sky, unmistakably coming from the Agreste mansion.

Apparently their earlier theory about Hawkmoth's identity hadn't been wrong after all, even though she had hoped that they might be, just for Adrien's sake.

(Arresting her crush's father had definitely not been in her plans for the day.)

Ladybug sighed, pushing herself to her feet to join Chat Noir and pulling out her yo-yo to let the monks know that they had already been successful. There was no point in putting off the undeniably unpleasant task of retrieving the trap-box and getting the supervillains out and arrested, no matter how much she wanted to.

For now, she would focus on the positives- Paris, and by extension Adrien, would be far safer with Hawkmoth and Mayura behind bars. Their days would be less interrupted, everyone would be less on edge, and, well, maybe without an overly controlling father overseeing every part of his life, Adrien would be able to do more things that he actually wanted to.

Things would be good. They would all get past this together and come on top, she was sure of it.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #S3 finale spoilers #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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themoonsings · 4 years ago

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Wanted Connections !!

here’s a list of some wanted connections i’d really like! i’ll likely add more since i made this during my lunch break from work/meetings. all of these are open to all genders except her bandmates/groupmates wc since it’s a girl group!

Friendship/Platonic

nothing else matters like us - her groupmates/bandmates. you can find other info on the wanted connections page on the main. still don’t have a name for her girl group yet but basically she’s known these girls since they were all little kids. none of them grew up rich or famous and before they were celebrities, they were best friends. it was luna’s idea to start the band and they’ve been through a lot together since, breaking records and barriers in the industry. they are the hottest girl group in the world. they’ve been dropping albums since they were teens and together for seven years now. they each do some of their own small projects on the side but have since remained dedicated to the group. despite rumors of disbandment and doubts that they would even make it this far, they’ve absolutely thrived. luna considers them her sisters and she works hard to make sure they’re constantly doing their best and staying at the top of their game. they’re currently working on their 5th studio album. there’s one fact that’s been worrying her recently: they made a pact that if one of them ever wanted to leave/go completely solo, they would end the group altogether so as never to hold one another back.

so true, bestie - while she considers her bandmates to be her first/childhood friends and sisters, this person just...gets luna. they’re super close and just click. maybe they even live together or share an apartment, not ‘cause they need the money but just ‘cause they like being roomies and don’t like having a giant place to themselves. they confide in one another, look out for one another, and stick up for one another. and they’re also not afraid to tell eachother how it is.

you’re my celebrity - someone who’s newer in the industry and isn’t as big that either is a fan of luna’s or looks up to her in some way and doesn’t know as much about the industry. she’s been in it since she was a teen and is more than happy to take them under her wing. they struck up a friendship like that and both learn and grow in it.

you make me make bad decisions - party pals, chaos cousins, double trouble--whatever you wanna call it, when these two get together, hijinx ensues. something about this character makes luna wanna get a lil wild, ‘cause a lil trouble, kick ass and take names. nothing super super crazy but definitely more fun than most people expect from the likes of luna song.

Romantic/Sexual

i’ve been in love with you for ages - ( inspired by Me & You Together song by the 1975 ) they’ve known eachother since luna was first starting out in the industry (maybe even longer) and they were really close friends, doing everything together talking about whatever, whenever, and they just...have always clicked. luna realized she was falling first and let your character know and for whatever reason, maybe because they were still in love with someone else or in denial or w/e they rejected her--said they didn’t like her like that. they were able to move past it and still be close friends but now, your character’s gotten their head out of their ass, have looked up and seen...her. that it was her and it’s always been her but...they don’t know how to tell luna. or if she’ll even feel the same now. but that doesn’t stop them from pining, flirting, maybe even getting a lil jealous when she’s spotted with other people. will they work up the courage to tell her how they really feel?

i hate your guts // i just wanna f*ck - it’s a well-known hollywood public secret that these two cannot be in the same room together without biting eachother’s heads off. argument after argument that neither refuses to lose, this person is everything luna hates about hollywood and, well, humanity. until they figured out there is one way they can stand to be in a room together for more than five minutes--as long as they’re naked. one time could be written off as a drunken mistake. twice as a momentary lapse of judgement but at this point...luna would be mortified if anyone knew the amount of times, and the amount of things, they’ve done together. but that doesn’t stop her with replying with “come through” at every “you up” text. ( could turn romantic or could just be strictly sexual )

that moment when you see your fake-ex in public - your character was pretty prolific to have struck up a fake romance with luna. she does her best to make smart career moves and she was a really good fake gf--kept her affection professional, creative with the set-up of romantic public gestures, rightfully outraged when the paparazzi caught “private” moments of them. the reason for their fake break-up was mutually decided upon and no one was the wiser. maybe they stayed good friends afterward or maybe they’re just people who see one another, take quick pics at events, and brush elbows casually.

the ex-files - actual exes that luna had real relationships with. maybe luna wasn’t serious, maybe they weren’t. maybe it was amicable, maybe it was fraught. maybe they couldn’t get their act together enough to be luna’s one or maybe they just couldn’t believe in themselves the way luna believed in them. maybe it was a mistake they were together, maybe it was a mistake they broke up. basically any type of exes plotline where they were dating and now they’re not.

Other

the lost notebook - ( inspired by dash & lily, stuck in the suburbs ) luna’s notebook she takes everywhere with her. it’s where she jots down all the ideas and imaginings of her head when she’s inspired on the go, be it song lyrics, poetry, thoughts, quotes she likes, or observations she thinks could be useful in her creative process. she likes the tangibility of writing them in an actual notebook and the fact that she hasn’t lost it before now is nothing short of miracle. except...her luck seems to have run out. she lost her notebook and freaking out is an understatement. your character is the one who finds it, though they have no idea it belongs to her. maybe she left a phone number or secret email in the front to trace it or maybe she re-traces her steps and your character has left it back where they found it albeit with a note or challenge of some sort. but regardless, they end up striking up an unlikely relationship via the notebook (or more likely a new notebook they use just for that purpose ‘cause bby girl poured her soul into this one). neither still knows who the other is. maybe they trade thoughts/ideas or lyrics back and forth or maybe they trade different dares or challenges but they really seem to be getting on. only problem is, they don’t technically know who one another is and they both do and don’t want to find out--if they do, maybe they can actually get to know one another but...it could also ruin everything ( this could turn romantic or just be platonic )

50k for a verse, no album out - basically your character and luna are either currently or were previously working together professionally. this could be her writing one or a few of their songs, them being featured on one of her band’s albums or working to be featured on their current one, her being featured on their single or album, or even her ( or her and her bandmates ) guest starring in one of their movies or shows. they could even be writing a cute lil duet or something together.

this city ain’t big enough for the both of us - rivals. tbh luna can’t stand them and she finds their mere existence so offensive that she’s not above getting petty about it, because girl can be competitive. maybe they were co-stars or collaborators whose relationship went south or maybe it was hate at first sight and the edges of their personalities just rub wrong. or maybe they used to be good friends but something happened and that got wrecked.

#{ &&. wanted connections. }

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cruelangelstheses · 4 years ago

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the path to girlhood

fandom: love live! rating: T characters: rin hoshizora, hanayo koizumi words: 3.9k additional tags: character study, au, trans girl rin, bullying, internalized transphobia, high school description: rin struggles to accept herself at her new school when she discovers a love for dancing. a/n: hello hello!! i wrote this a little over a month ago and decided to finally polish it and post it! this au is pretty similar to canon except that they’re just regular high school girls and not idols. i promise it’s not as angsty as the tags make it seem!! i will never write write a fic in which rin hoshizora is cis. happy pride to my fellow Transes of Gender <3 title comes from kururin miracle aka rin’s Trans Song. i love her so much. that's my fuckign daughter

read it on ao3

—

On the first day of high school, Rin Hoshizora goes to school in a skirt.

She hasn’t worn one out in public since she was a child, having resigned herself to hiding inside hoodies and sweatpants. As she wanders the unfamiliar hallways, Rin tries not to be conscious of the way some of her peers sneak curious glances at her from behind notebooks or open locker doors. If nothing else, she hopes the button on her backpack—a striped flag of pink, white, and blue—will be enough to clue them in, if any of them even know what it symbolizes.

Last month, Rin’s parents successfully enrolled her into the local but relatively well-regarded Otonokizaka Academy for Girls, mainly thanks to “proof” from her doctor that she has, in fact, started taking hormones and that she is, in fact, a Real Trans Girl, whatever that means. It’s an old, impressive school with plenty of extracurriculars and classes to choose from, and her best friend, Hanayo, goes there, too. Most importantly, though, it’s a chance to reinvent herself, to meet new people who don’t know her dead name—to make a statement, simply by wearing the Otonokizaka uniform and sitting in an Otonokizaka classroom, that says, I am a girl just as you are.

So far, it doesn’t feel quite as empowering as she thought it would.

Instead, she feels like a newborn baby, cut from the umbilical cord of the closet, naked and confused as she’s thrust into a strange new world. There’s no turning back now, no chance to abort the mission. All she can do is step forward into the light, with all the beauty and danger that it brings.

—

When Rin steps into her homeroom class, a soft, familiar voice calls out, “Rin-chan!”

Hanayo jumps up out of her chair and scurries over, her red glasses bouncing on her face. Rin grins and wraps her arms around her, squeezing her tightly, and for just a moment, she forgets about the rest of the world. There’s nothing outside this classroom, nothing outside her best friend’s warm embrace.

Rin opens her mouth to say something, anything—a how have you been or a help me please I don’t know if I can do this—but she doesn’t get the chance, because then the bell rings, and the homeroom teacher strides into the room. In a flurry, the students rush to their desks. Hanayo has saved a seat for Rin in the back, right next to her, and Rin sighs in relief as she slides into the chair.

While the teacher introduces herself, Rin scans the room, searching for any sign of a reaction from her classmates. Most of them are facing forward, listening or at least pretending to listen to the teacher. One girl sitting a few seats away pokes her friend on the shoulder and gestures to Rin. “Wow,” she mutters, just loud enough that it’s clear she wants Rin to hear it. “They’ll let anyone in this school, huh?”

Rin’s face heats up, and she quickly looks away, down at her empty notebook. In an attempt to seem nonchalant, she pulls a pen out of her pencil case and starts doodling a cat to distract herself. She likes her short hair—it’s cute and easy to manage, and it doesn’t get in her face when she’s playing sports—but suddenly she wishes it were longer so she could hide behind it. That probably wouldn’t work too well, though—before long, she’s sure her peers will be able to recognize her just by her decidedly unfeminine frame.

“Psst,” Hanayo whispers, and Rin turns her head to look at her. Hanayo props up her notebook horizontally. On an otherwise clean page, she’s written in pretty, curly handwriting, I believe in you! with little hearts all around it.

Rin flashes her a tiny smile and mouths a thank-you, but she still can’t shake the feeling that everything about her is wrong. Her knees are too knobby, her handwriting isn’t neat enough, her voice is too loud. She feels like a randomized Sim, like someone just threw together a collection of traits and lumped them all into a person. She’d like to give the spirits a “You Tried” sticker.

—

Rin likes talking to people. She likes jumping in on a conversation about athletics or music or pets and talking about her favorite type of cat (orange tabbies, obviously) or her favorite sports (how could she choose just one?). She likes introducing herself to those who look shy or lonely—in fact, it’s how she met Hanayo. Today, though, she finds herself infuriatingly tongue-tied, stumbling over her words in a way she never has before. Though she attempts, as always, to appear friendly, most of the girls she talks to seem to be at least somewhat uncomfortable with or uninterested in her presence, as if they’re just waiting for her to go away. The last thing Rin wants is to make someone unhappy or upset, so once she senses that she isn’t quite welcome in a particular group or conversation, she politely withdraws from it.

When Rin walks into the bathroom, all the girls that were hanging out and doing their makeup immediately grab their things and leave.

Rin overhears a few more rude comments throughout the day, but no one is overly confrontational. She finds herself pondering over girls and the way they show aggression—how girls who speak disparagingly about others behind their backs are referred to as “catty,” while physical fights between girls are often called “catfights.” Either way, aggressive or passive-aggressive, dealing in physical damage or emotional, girls are consistently compared to cats. It’s unfair to cats, Rin thinks, to associate them only with animosity and violence. Cats can be sweet and loving, too. Cats wouldn’t hate her just for wearing skirts or referring to herself as a “she.”

“Rin-chan,” Hanayo says later that day when they walk home from school together, “are you going to join any clubs or activities? They’ve got a lot of sports.”

“I might do soccer,” Rin replies, “and maybe basketball in the winter. But I’ll have to try it out first to see if I like it.”

Hanayo raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Rin loves soccer; they both know she loves soccer. What Rin’s really saying is, I’ll have to see if I’m treated in a way that deters me from playing.

“Well, if you don’t like it,” Hanayo says delicately, “you could do other sports that aren’t team-oriented. There’s track and cross-country. And there’s dance.”

“Dance?” Rin repeats. “What makes you think I’d be any good at that?”

“Well, you’re so coordinated, and you have really good stamina,” Hanayo says, twirling a strand of light brown hair. “And you like music. It looks like it’d be really fun.”

“You should do it, then,” Rin says, not unkindly.

Hanayo chuckles sheepishly. ��I’d like to, but I’ve been too nervous to go by myself. Maybe you could come with me? Just to the first couple of meetings.”

Rin frowns. It’s not that she dislikes the idea of dancing, necessarily; she’s just never considered it. Dancing is for pretty girls with limbs as pliable as putty and skin softer than rose petals, not a scrappy little transgender tomboy with scraped-up knees and a finger that didn’t heal properly because she took it out of the splint before she was supposed to. Dancing is for girls who would never be mistaken for boys.

“The people there seem really nice,” Hanayo adds. “And I’ll be with you, remember?”

After a few moments, Rin finds herself nodding slowly. “Okay,” she says, trying to picture herself dancing to pop music or classical arrangements. It doesn’t quite feel right. “But if it falls on the same day as soccer, I’m choosing soccer.”

—

At the first soccer practice, they have a scrimmage against one another. It’s a perfect chance for Rin to show her teammates what she can do, to earn their trust and start to build camaraderie just like when she played on boys’ teams. Within the first few minutes of the mock game, however, it becomes abundantly clear that most of the girls have no interest in establishing a rapport with her. Some shift uncomfortably whenever she’s near. Others, especially those on defense, play particularly aggressively with her, pressing so close to her that they almost touch, nearly shoving her out of the way, or “accidentally” kicking at her heels when attempting to steal the ball from her. Nearly all of them seem to refuse to pass her the ball, even when she’s wide open, and even though she’s one of the fastest and most experienced members, so that the only times she ever actually manages to get it are when she steals it from the other side. The coach claps whenever Rin scores a goal, but hardly anyone else does, and it only seems to be out of politeness.

At the end of the practice, Rin is about ready to fall over in exhaustion, but not in a good way. She doesn’t think she’s ever had to work so hard in her life to try to make people like her, or at least play nice with her.

Hanayo texts her that evening. How’d it go?

Not great :-( I think I’ll come with you tomorrow to the dance club, Rin responds.

Hanayo’s reply comes a few seconds later. Oh no I’m so sorry!! Tomorrow will be better I promise!!

Rin sighs and flops down on her bed. “I sure hope so,” she mumbles to no one as she stares blankly across the room. A dress she bought online hangs on her closet door, unworn.

—

The room used for the dance club is similar to a gymnasium, except that it’s smaller and has walls made entirely of mirrors. When Rin steps out onto the hardwood floor and sees a few other girls chatting in the center of the room with a dance instructor, her chest tightens.

Beside her, Hanayo takes a deep breath. “I’m nervous, too,” she says, taking Rin’s hand in her own. “But we’re here together.”

They amble up to the small group, and the dance instructor turns to them with a smile. “Oh! It’s so good to see some new faces,” she says. “You can call me Miyazaki-sensei.”

“Hi,” Rin and Hanayo say in unison. They both giggle nervously.

“Hey, there’s no need to be nervous!” says a spunky girl with a side ponytail. “Anyone can learn to dance. I’m living proof! Plus it’d make great material for the talent show!”

Rin and Hanayo exchange glances. “Talent show?” Rin says.

“Yeah!” the girl says. “Every year right before summer break, the school holds a talent show. Anyone can enter! It’s really fun! Last year Kotori-chan, Umi-chan, and I performed as a trio,” she gestures to the other two girls in the room, “and we’re hoping to do it again this year! Sign-ups should be—uhhh, Umi-chan, when are the sign-ups again?”

One of the girls, Umi, sighs in exasperation, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face. “Two Mondays from now. So not this coming Monday, but the one after that.”

“Great!” says the ponytail girl. Turning back to Rin and Hanayo, she adds, “Are you two friends? You should perform as a duo! It would be so cute! I bet I could find the perfect song for you guys—”

Miyazaki holds up a hand. “Why don’t we see if they actually enjoy it first, hm?” she says, amused.

First, they go around and introduce themselves. Miyazaki and the other girls seem nice enough; in fact, Rin thinks she saw Honoka, the ponytail girl, smile and wave at her as she walked into Otonokizaka on the first day of class. She appears to just love and accept everyone; her sincerity is almost childish, but charming nonetheless.

Then they get into the dancing. The three other girls, all second years, seem to know what they’re doing when it comes to planning their performance, so Miyazaki spends most of her time teaching Rin and Hanayo some simple moves to a handful of familiar pop songs.

Slowly, Rin can’t help but unfold. The satisfaction that blooms in her chest whenever she gets a move right, when she shifts her body perfectly to the rhythm of the music, is such a pleasant shock to her system that she feels herself letting her guard down, opening up. She and Hanayo laugh whenever they screw up a step, and no matter how many times they fail, Miyazaki’s patience and attentiveness never waver. When Rin glances over at the other girls, she finds them completely absorbed in their practice; only occasionally does she notice any of them looking her way, and when they do, it’s not with the piercing eyes of judgment, but the joy of sharing in something they love. In this room, Rin doesn’t have to worry about how others see her. She can just be.

—

Hanayo and Rin attend every dance rehearsal together. It’s a small, close-knit group, and even though they aren’t all working together on the same exact thing, Rin can feel that sense of camaraderie that she’s been missing. They’re all constantly looking to improve, to try new things, to create something lively and beautiful. The world is their canvas, their bodies the brushes, the music the paint. For Rin, dancing becomes an unexpected refuge. In the dance room, no one throws crumpled-up papers at her head or tries to trip her down the stairs; no one whispers ugly words in her ear as she walks by.

After hours of deliberation on both their parts, and a lot of convincing (read: begging) on Honoka’s part, Rin and Hanayo decide to take her suggestion and sign up for the talent show as a dancing duo. Honoka apparently spends an inordinate amount of time picking out the perfect song for them, an upbeat tune from an upcoming idol about accepting oneself. “Trust me,” she says, “the audience will love it. Idols are all the rage these days.”

Rin suspects that Honoka picked it out on purpose for its lyrics, but for what it’s worth, it is a catchy song, the kind of song that makes Rin want to jump up and dance whenever she hears it. Luckily for her, that’s exactly what she’s going to do.

Miyazaki helps them come up with the choreography, and they spend the next few months working avidly to perfect it. Even on weekends, they often meet up at one of their houses and practice for hours. Only if they feel that they did the best they possibly could will either of them feel comfortable enough to get up onstage and let hundreds of potentially unforgiving eyes gaze upon them.

Every once in a while, a particularly nasty comment or incident will give Rin pause, and she’ll feel an almost overwhelming urge to beg Hanayo to let them drop out of the talent show. She wouldn’t do that, though; she’d never want to force her best friend to turn her back on an opportunity just for her. Besides, she’ll be okay as long as Hanayo is there with her.

—

The day before the talent show, Hanayo isn’t in school.

During lunch, Rin calls her in a panic in one of the bathroom stalls. “What’s going on?” she hisses. “Our final rehearsal is tonight! Where are you?”

“I have pneumonia,” Hanayo replies.

Rin feels like the floor is falling out from underneath her. Words crowd in her mouth, but all that comes out is, “In summer?”

Hanayo chuckles halfheartedly. “Yeah. I think I got it from my grandfather. You know his immune system isn’t the best. I don’t think I’ll be able to—” She breaks off into a fit of coughing. “I can’t come tonight. I don’t think I’ll be able to perform tomorrow. I went to the doctor yesterday after school, and he says I need to rest until the antibiotics start working.”

Rin recalls the past few days, how Hanayo had been coughing for a little while and seemed more out of breath than usual. She’d hoped it was just a cold, that it would go away in no time. Now Hanayo is sick in bed, her lungs filled with fluid, and they’re scheduled to perform tomorrow.

“Kayo-chin, I—I can’t do it on my own,” she says, her heart starting to race at the thought of standing alone on that stage.

“Sure you can,” Hanayo says. “Just…finish the school day and then go to rehearsal. I’m sure Miyazaki-sensei can help you out.” Then she hangs up before Rin has the chance to argue.

The rest of her classes are a blur. Her mind spins with worst-case scenarios, and her hands shake too much for her to even try to doodle. She speaks to no one, afraid that if she opens her mouth, nothing coherent will come out.

As soon as the dismissal bell rings, Rin snatches her things and races down the hall to the dance room. Her hands are so full that she kicks the door open with her foot.

Miyazaki flashes a smile at her, but it quickly dissipates once she sees the look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

Rin drops her things on the floor against the wall. “Kayo-chin’s sick,” she says breathlessly. “Pneumonia. She can’t perform tomorrow. We have to drop out. I can’t do it without her; we have to drop out—”

Miyazaki holds up both her hands. “Whoa, whoa, slow down. Deep breaths, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Rin nods reluctantly and tries to steady her breathing. She hears the door open and close behind her, and then Honoka says, “Where’s Hanayo-chan?”

“She’s sick,” Miyazaki says calmly. “Rin’s probably going to have to perform by herself tomorrow.”

“Oh dear,” Kotori says. “I hope she gets better soon.”

“Rin-chan can do it, though!” Honoka says. “We’ve all seen her in action. She’ll do great!”

Rin shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“It shouldn’t be too difficult,” Umi adds matter-of-factly. “You two were basically doing the same moves, right? It’s not like you were ballroom dancing. You won’t have to change much of the choreography to turn it into a solo act. And we can help you.”

Rin shakes her head again, faster. “It’s not that. I’m not worried about how I’ll do. I’m worried about how it’ll look. I’m not one of those pretty girls everyone loves. I’m different. And everyone’s eyes will be on me and no one else. I’ll be the center of attention…and I just don’t know if I can deal with how they’ll react to that. It suits me to be a partner or a member of a group, so I can blend in more, so someone else can shine. I can’t be the girl who shines. Not like this.”

“Of course you can!” Honoka blurts. “People are afraid of what they don’t understand. But you’re a girl just like the rest of us. Now’s your chance to show everyone. You’re at the Otonokizaka Academy for Girls, aren’t you?”

“But I tried to show everyone,” Rin says, her shoulders slumping. “That’s what I thought going to this school would do. But people still treat me like I’m just too different for them. Like I’m a failed girl, like I’m the wrong kind of girl.”

It’s Miyazaki who speaks up next.

“Then that’s their problem,” she says, “not yours. There’s no such thing as a ‘wrong kind of girl.’ There are girls with short hair and girls who love sports and girls who like to work on cars and girls who wear tuxedos and girls who like to build things—and girls who were mistakenly raised as boys. And the sooner you come to terms with that, the sooner you can be free of what others think of you. People are going to judge you no matter what you do. So if dancing brings you joy, and you want to share that joy with other people, then I want you to dance your heart out on that stage tomorrow.”

For a moment, all is silent. Then Rin chuckles sheepishly. She’s right. Of course she’s right.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Who wants to help me touch up this choreography?”

—

It’s the day before summer break, and the air buzzes with excitement. Even from backstage, Rin can feel her classmates’ gazes from out in the auditorium. Her heart feels like it’s going to claw its way out of her chest and make a run for it, and part of her wants to follow suit. Deep down, though, she knows she’s ready. She’s worked as hard as she possibly could. She’s going to stay, and she’s going to perform like her life depends on it. She has to, for Hanayo.

Rin adjusts her earrings and checks her makeup one final time in the backstage mirror before Miyazaki pops her head in. “Honoka, Kotori, and Umi are almost done,” she says. “You’re up.”

Rin smooths out her dress, a cute pastel pink, the very same one she bought online over the winter. It’s her first time wearing it in public, and it fits her like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle. She takes a deep breath and glances down at her phone, which glows brightly with a new text message from Hanayo. I believe in you!! it reads, followed by a bunch of heart emojis.

Rin smiles, then fixes the pink barrette in her hair and heads out to the curtain area.

Honoka, Kotori, and Umi are walking offstage when Rin arrives. “You’ll do great!” Honoka whispers to her as she walks by, giving her a brief, sweaty hug. Kotori claps enthusiastically, and Umi puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Up next,” the principal says from the sound box, “we have Rin Hoshizora!”

The crowd claps politely. Rin tries her best not to look at any of them as she ambles onto the stage; her focus is only on the music and her body.

When she hears the opening of the song, all the fear and self-consciousness that’s been building up in her seems to fade away, replaced by instinct and muscle memory. She knows how to do this. She’s been doing it multiple days a week for months now.

For most of the first verse, the crowd is silent, as if they aren’t quite sure what to make of her. Then, when she bounces across the stage as the song shifts into the chorus, a few people whoop and cheer, and that’s all Rin needs to keep herself moving, to let the melody carry her home. She’s never felt more beautiful, more purely and authentically her. There’s so much she often hates about her body, but right now, she’s thankful for everything that makes her up, from her long limbs to her rectangular frame. Dancing, she’s discovered, isn’t just for conventionally attractive cis girls. It’s for anyone, as long as they have the passion and the resolve.

Honoka was right about the song choice—by the end, some people are clapping and dancing along, even singing the parts that they know. When Rin finishes the song with a smile, a wink, and a pose, the crowd responds in raucous applause. More than a few people in the audience seem shocked, and several others are smirking, shaking their heads, or mumbling to each other.

And yet, Rin finds it doesn’t particularly bother her. She’s realized something about this sudden turnaround: their acceptance of her is conditional, but her happiness is not. If being herself makes others uncomfortable…well, that’s their problem, not hers.

#love live!#rin hoshizora #hanayo koizumi #love live school idol project #love live school idol festival #trans girl rin #llsif #llsip #love live! fanfic #my fics

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