#this was originally meant to be a joke post complaining about how no one else in this fandom wants him as bad as i do but uh. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dikanamai · 3 years ago

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“In our darkest moment”, an Encanto fic

Some days ago, I was talking a bit about Bruno's backstory in this post, and how it would've been better if the movie had focused on his own struggles, instead on reduce his departure to "I hid to protect Mirabel". I like to think he hid to protect the whole family, because his last vision could have triggered the destruction of Casita (as it does indeed in the movie). There's more, of course; with these fics I've been writing lately, I've tried to set up a more complex scenario for that fateful night of Mirabel's ceremony and fleshed out the family's problems, while also respecting the canon. In this one about this turning point in Casa Madrigal, there’s no big arguments, just fear and tension, and Alma begging for a vision. But you know how the opening scene of the movie is a light version of Dos Oruguitas? Well, this is the dos oruguitas version of Bruno’s flashback in the movie 8D

I've put a lot of love in it, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Title: In our darkest moment Characters: the triplets, Alma, and the whole family. Word Count: 12.572 Rating: G Warnings/Spoilers: none, if you've watched the movie. This one ties with my previous ones, so you can find them here, if you don't know them and want to check them first. Since this night was actually one of the darkest moments of the family, this fic is SAD, you're warned. Summary: The triplets knew perfectly the story of the miracle's origin. But even so, Bruno had wondered many times how would it be to live through something so extreme. Losing everything in a blink, turning around and discovering your life had radically changed forever in a matter of seconds. It was something that had given him nightmares when he was younger, and he had concluded he didn't want to fully understand it. It was too much. The night Mirabel didn't get her gift, however, he had no choice but to finally understand.

(Friendly reminder that English is not my mother tongue, and I'm not used to write fiction in this language. So this text is probably closer to Spanglish. Anyway, I hope it's readable enough and you can enjoy it. Thanks for your time!)

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"What gift do you think she'll get, tío?"

Luisa's voice was barely a whisper, almost muffled by the rumor of the waiting crowd gathered around them in Casita's courtyard. But she was leaning her back on his chest while Bruno hugged her from behind, his arms around her shoulders, so he could hear her clearly. His middle niece was almost as tall as Isa already, and he just needed to bow slightly to rest his chin on her head.

"I have no idea," he answered, with a soft smile. "But knowing Mira, it'll probably be something spectacular. Maybe her gift is setting things on fire."

At his side, Félix coughed to cover a chuckle. "Abuela would love it."

"She doesn't need a gift to do that," Isa joked playfully, "just to be left alone in the kitchen for five minutes. Ah, Milo?"

The little boy, held by his mother, growled and complained, and made them all laugh with his reaction. But there was something else in their voices, especially in the adult's ones but also perceptible in the tone of the older girls: anticipation. Tense, eager anticipation.

It couldn't be helped, now that the day had finally reached its climax, after all the stress and preparations. In fact, it was the climax of a situation that had been stretching for months. All of them were hoping desperately a happy outcome for Mirabel's ceremony, something that could ease once and for all abuela's distress and let things back to normal— whatever that 'normal' meant. Isa and Dolores, clung to each other in a side hug, seemed to believe that good news tonight could erase some of their own pains somehow, and Bruno hadn't had the guts to remind them that the pains of growing up would never disappear. Pepa, Félix and he, however, knew better; they were just longing for another truce, to mamá to calm down and put her worries to rest at last, till the girls became adults and she could start fretting again about her great-grandkids' gifts. It wasn't perfect, but it would certainly be a relief after all those months of troubled instability. Two gift ceremonies so close to each other had been something too stressful, and this year was already feeling longer than ever.

So yes, all of them hoped, all of them remained expectant. The only one young enough to be immune to all that was Camilo, God bless him.

"I think she will fly!" he exclaimed, and then put his hands on his head with an exaggerate gasp, eyes wide open. "Oh, wait, wait! She will move things with her mind!"

"That would be awesome!" Isabela agreed.

"Great guess, mi vida," Pepa chuckled, nuzzling her little boy's cheek and pressing a loud kiss on it that made him giggle.

"I think she will be able to read people's minds," Dolores declared quietly, and the three adults exchanged an alarmed look and a tense smile.

"I reeeally hope she doesn't get that one," Bruno tittered nervously. "It would be too… traumatic."

"She's always humming," Isabela added, excited, "maybe her gift is making people sing randomly when she talks with them. That would be funny!"

"What a nonsense!" Camilo rolled his eyes dramatically, and Bruno had to bite back a wide smile when Pepa shot him a meaningful look. Lately, his nephew had started copying a lot of his exaggerate mannerisms for unknown reasons, and his sister used to feign that got on her nerves— though both triplets found it absolutely hilarious. "Singing is useless. She should spit fire!"

Félix cracked up laughing. "Camilo, mijo, you should relax."

"I just want her to get her room." Camilo rested his head on Pepa's shoulder, cuddling her mother lovingly. "Mami, can I sleep with Mira when she gets her room?"

"Of course you can, mi amor, she would love it. Oh! What about a sleepover night with all the cousins as celebration? That will be fun! Tía Juli, tío Bruno and I used to do it veeery often, you know?"

"Really?"

"¡Sí! They would come to my room all the time when we were little."

"And when you were teens," Isabela chuckled, giving her tía an amused smile. "Mami told me."

"Actually," Bruno raised a finger, "we kept doing it every now and then until they got married and kicked me out of the bed. Tragic."

Pepa rolled her eyes. "We stopped doing it because your awful room is the only one available now and we can't sleep there together," she grumbled, but he ignored her remark, adopting a dramatic pose for his niblings, who were already giggling.

"Abandoned by my sisters. How heartbreaking. Now I always have to sleep all alone. I miss the company."

"Get yourself a wife, bro," Félix joked, elbowing him.

"I don't miss the company that much," he retorted, and his brother-in-law let out a belly laugh.

All of them laughed, actually; and relaxed by the chatter and jokes, the kids kept talking cheerfully about Mirabel's hypothetical room and hypothetical gift. Bruno suppressed a sigh and smiled, glad to see them a bit less anxious, even if he still felt unable to calm down completely. He would never say it out loud, but he was feeling terrible since morning, and he couldn't tell if it was just because of the nerves or if it was an actual foreboding. More than once along that day, he had found himself turning to look at his back, not sure of what he was expecting, or staring into the void, suddenly paralyzed for no reason. He could feel something odd in the house too, filling the air, like the smell of rain before a storm. The nameless glowing door in the upper corridor seemed more ominous than ever. It was something so unsettling, so unnerving, but also so unexplainable, that Julieta had caught him standing like a statue before papá's painting after meal, and he hadn't had time to conceal his concern.

"You can feel it too, right?" she had whispered, hugging him from behind and burying her face on his shoulder. "I've got a bad feeling, hermano."

Bruno had patted her arms softly, trying to be comforting but strangled by the lump in his throat. "Don't worry, Juli. We'll be fine."

But not even he had believed his own words, and both had stayed there, looking into papá's eyes, till Julieta sighed quietly, "Help us, papi".

Right now, she and Agustín were already upstairs, beside Mirabel's door, hugging each other and talking in whispers. Bruno glanced at them, gulped and then turned his gaze to Pepa, who had just done exactly the same. When his eyes met his sister's, he knew it was also taking her a great deal to show a light mood.

Luisa shifted in his arms and Bruno came back to reality, realizing she hadn't said a word during the whole chat. Looking down at her, he gave her a little smile and mumbled, "Nervous?"

Luisa let out an abrupt, weak laugh, as if she had been holding her breath. "Yeah, hm, I think so. I'm more nervous than the night I got my gift. I'm dumb."

"You're not dumb. You just care about your lil sis."

"I've been thinking it would be…" Her words faded, and she glanced at her parents too.

"It would be…?" he repeated, encouraging her to finish.

Luisa took a deep breath and look up at him with an embarrassed, apologetic smile. "It would be great if we could work together as a team, right?"

Bruno felt his smile wavering, but made an effort to keep it in place for her. "Sí, hormiguita. It would be great. I'm sure you'd be an awesome team."

Luisa's smile grew wider and she snuggled a bit more in his embrace. "Mira's really eager to make the family proud. I bet Casita will give her a very special gift. I wish she could move things with her mind, as Camilo said; it'd be amazing." She chuckled, though a sad shadow tinted her expression and she lowered her voice even more to add, "My gift is— My gift is very different from the others, don't you think, tío? It's a— It feels a bit lonely, sometimes. Is it wrong to wish Mira's gift could be more similar to mine?"

Her words made his heart sink. He had been so worried about Isabela and Dolores, already walking the path that leaded them away from childhood, that he hadn't paid enough attention to the growing pressure Luisa had started to feel too. He had thought they would have more time before this. She was only nine, after all. But she was right: her gift was different and probably the most demanding of the whole family. It was awful she had had to find it out so soon.

"Of course not, Luisa," he answered softly. "I feel you. There's nothing wrong in that wish. But remember it doesn't matter what gift Mirabel gets tonight, you don't have to feel lonely. We all are here to lend a hand. And maybe we can't lift a building, but— we still can hold you!" And he squeezed her tightly, till Luisa burst out giggling cheerfully, her mood lightening up almost right away. Bruno smiled in relief and rested a cheek on her head, glad that she was still young enough to be reassured with a simple hug. "Just stop growing up so quickly," he joked then. "Two years more at this pace and you'll be taller than me. How would I hug you then?"

Luisa laughed again. "You can keep hugging even if I'm taller! You know I love hugs."

"Oh, yeah? Won't you be ashamed of you super short uncle?"

"Nah, never!"

"Thank goodness, because I love your hugs too."

With a soft chuckle, his niece looked up again, now giving him a warm, grateful smile. "Thanks, tío Bruno."

"Anytime, hormiguita."

Isabela, Dolores, now also Luisa… Bruno suppressed a sigh. Things were getting more and more complicated, too quickly for his taste. When they were little, they hadn't been able to afford obliviousness, but they had wished it for their children, a chance to growing up without being crushed by the heavy weight of the Madrigals duty. Were they protecting their kids properly? Were they failing spectacularly without even notice, after all? Even if they tried and tried, it never seemed to be enough.

Of course they had put their hopes on tonight. The whole family needed something good to happen, some good omen to be revealed.

A few minutes later, mamá finally stepped into the courtyard holding the magic candle, her long, private chat with Mirabel concluded. She walked the path the crowd had cleared, reached the curved stairs that leaded to the new door and stopped halfway to the top to face them all and deliver her usual speech, as she had always done since Isabela's ceremony.

"Almost forty years ago, in our darkest moment, this candle blessed us with a miracle…"

All of them stared and waited. Even Camilo had gone still, his big eyes fixed on his grandma. Félix put an arm around Pepa's waist and the other around the girls' shoulders. He felt Luisa grabbing his arms to snuggle against him again, holding her breath. And, when mamá finished, the crowd cheered, the curtain opened and Mirabel stood under the spotlights.

The little girl made her way to the stairs slowly, twisting her hands nervously. When she passed before them, Luisa gave her a thumbs-up gesture, Isa whispered an encouraging 'go, go, sis!' clenching a fist, Dolores smiled reassuringly and Camilo waved an arm with a muffled squeak of excitement. Mirabel looked at them with shiny eyes and covered her mouth to hide a soft chuckle.

Bruno would treasure that moment for years, after this night. Because it was the last time he could see his youngest niece smiling, face to face.

Mamá had told them the story of the miracle many times. As some sort of fairytale, when they were little. The rawer version, when they got old enough to hear it. The triplets knew perfectly what had happened at the river, and before that. But even so, Bruno had wondered many times how would it be to live through something so extreme. One minute, you're standing in your house, surrounded by your loved ones, making plans for your future; and the next one, you're on the road, running away with nothing but the clothes on your back. He couldn't grasp the notion of losing everything in a blink, or turning around and discovering your life had radically changed forever in a matter of seconds. It was something that had given him shivers and nightmares and a suffocating anxiety when he was younger, and he had concluded he didn't want to fully understand it. It was too much.

This night, however, he understood.

He finally started to understand when Mirabel's door vanished before their eyes and everything seemed to freeze for a heartbeat.

There was a moment of dreadful quietness. Then, Mirabel turned to mamá, shocked, and she just could look back at her, even more shocked. The candle's flame wavered. A collective gasp shook the crowd. Everybody stopped breathing and stared, petrified. And, in the sudden, dense silence, Camilo's tiny voice sounded like a shot.

"Where's her door? Mami! Where's her door?!"

The chaos was released right away.

"Everybody, please, calm down!" mamá exclaimed from the gallery, facing the crowd again.

But her voice had wavered too, and everyone freaked out, talking, asking, moving. Someone bumped into Bruno's back, and that made them all react at last. Isabela and Luisa looked at each other with wide eyes, and then bolted to the side stairs, followed by Dolores. Camilo shifted in Pepa's arms till she put him down on the floor, and the kid ran after his sister and cousins. And Bruno had to thank Pepa for grabbing his wrist and dragging him to the stairs too, because his mind was so blank he could barely think.

When they reached the gallery, Julieta and Agustín was squatted beside Mirabel, trying to calm down the stunned girl. Isabela slid to a stop at their side and kneeled at her sister's feet to cup her face on her hands. Luisa joined them immediately, Camilo almost jumped to them too, and suddenly the lil Mira was trapped in a group hug. Then, she finally reacted too. And she cracked up crying.

It was a terrible scene to witness. Mamá was talking to the town's people, but he couldn't understand a word, he could just hear his niece bawling. Dolores stepped back, covering her ears, and Félix wrapped her in his arms protectively. Pepa was talking frantically with Julieta in whispers, both of them waving their hands and looking strained. And he could do nothing. He just stood there like a dummy, paralyzed, staring at them but feeling worlds away, unable to wrap his head around what had just happened.

Was the floor trembling or it was just him?

"Bruno!" someone hissed, and he jumped and turned to mamá, who was looking at him intently from the stairs. "Don't slip away. We need to talk."

He gulped and nodded, rubbing his arm nervously, and saw her handing the candle to Julieta and rushing downstairs to join Arturo, Margarita and the rest of the town's leaders. Isabela took Mirabel in her arms and strode to the nursery, followed by all the children, while Julieta headed to mamá's room to leave the candle there before joining them and Pepa trotted downstairs too to deal with the guests. In a blink, they took the reins of the situation; and he knew he had to help them, he had to, but he couldn't manage the unexpected, he couldn't manage the stress, he couldn't, he was useless, he was on the verge of a panic and he really felt like slipping away. And he had probably done it if his brothers-in-law hadn't lunged at him suddenly to drag him to a quite side of the gallery and corner him there.

"What's happening?!" they hissed in unison.

"W-what?" he gasped, raising his hands. "I-I don't know! W-why would— H-how could I know? I don't know, don't look at me like that! My gift is clairvoyance, not omniscience!"

"This is not the best time for your jokes!" Agustín complained.

"I'm not joking! W-why— w-why everyone's always assuming I'm joking?! Do I look like joking? I'm panicking right now, ok?!"

"Easy there, bro!" Félix grabbed one of his shoulders and shook him slightly to bring him to his senses. "Don't shit your pants and pull yourself together, we need some answers here."

"Has this happened before?"

"No! O-of course not, this is not— t-this is… I-I don't know how…" Bruno trailed off, looking at the magic doors beyond the worried faces of his brothers-in-law. Was their glow… twinkling? He almost choked and blinked frantically, wondering if he was about to faint or something.

"Bruno?" Félix took his arm to keep him steady, and only then Bruno noticed he was wobbling.

He looked at his sister's husband, eyes wide open. "I think I'm gonna puke up dinner."

But Agustín had pretty worse worries, of course.

"Bruno, por amor de Dios," he growled, sliding his fingers under his glasses to press them against his eyes. "Could you focus on the matter at hand? Mirabel's life has been revolving around this moment since she can remember. The life of the whole family revolves around your gifts! What's gonna happen now? What am I gonna tell my daughter?"

He looked really desperate. Bruno held his gaze, trembling, and bit by bit, with every heartbeat, he fought to recompose himself. Because this was his job, wasn't it? This was the reason people asked him for help, to soothe their worries. Even if his visions were a mess, even if he was a mess. For his family, he was still the wise uncle, the wise brother, with his wise words. He could do it. He had been doing it his entire life.

So he gulped, gritted his teeth and put a hand on Agustín's shoulder. "Agus, just— A-are you hearing yourself? Calm down. You're like some… super papá or something. You don't need to ask me what are you gonna say to your daughter, you already know perfectly what you have to say, don't you?"

Agustín looked at him intently, and Bruno could see how he was recomposing himself too. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes, this is— this is not a punishment. It's not her fault. She's not broken. She's just as wonderful as ever. She is a Madrigal, she's loved, she has nothing to prove. This changes nothing."

Bruno nodded. "This changes nothing. We all are here to support her. Whatever this means, we— w-we will figure it out. We'll be fine."

"We'll be fine," Agustín repeated, like a prayer. "We'll be fine, we'll be fine, we'll be fine." He turned to run to the nursery, but stopped abruptly halfway, almost slipping, and came back to pat his shoulder in gratitude. "Thank you, brother."

Bruno took a deep breath as he watched him go and then faced Félix. "I-I hope you don't need some parenting advices from the single uncle too."

Félix chuckled, with a hint of sad irony very unusual in him. "Don't worry. I'm very sorry for poor Mira, but she won't be the only one affected by this. There will be consequences for the whole family. I know Camilo's gonna feel miserable because of this, as it happens, and that's what we'll have to handle."

"This is not his fault either. It's not like— I-it's not like if he has wasted all the magic of the miracle or ruined the candle or something like that."

"I know. But he has spent months hearing his gift is a joke, Bruno. He was really hopping something better for Mira, and the kid's just five, it's insane. And now this happens. How didn't you see it coming?"

"Y-you know that's not how my gift works, Félix."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But what are we gonna do with this?"

I have no idea, he wanted to answer, but he gulped again and forced himself to repeat, "W-we'll be fine."

"Will we?" Félix shook his head and patted his brother-in-law's back. "I'll go to help Pepi with the guests; she's probably drizzling by now."

"Félix," Bruno grabbed his arm to stop him before leaving, "please, help her— h-help her to let it out, ok? Mamá wants to talk, and I suppose— I-I suppose we'll have a family reunion in a while, the three of us with mamá, and… I-I don't want mamá to vent on her or whatever if she's anxious and thundering and— you know."

Félix nodded and, with a last pat, trotted downstairs too to find his wife.

The gallery went silent. Bruno stayed there, slouched in the shadows of that quiet corner between the courtyard's side stairs and the stairs of his tower, pressing his knuckles to his mouth and holding back the urge to bite them. From the balcony at his left, he could hear the rumor of the people talking outside, a tint of deep concern in their voices. Sometimes, he could tell apart mamá's voice, though she was far enough to not get any of her words. He didn't want to know what she was saying to the town, anyway. He could hear the distant, muffled crying of Mirabel too, and he couldn't tell if his niece was still in tears or her voice had kept stuck to his brain.

How didn't you see it coming?

That was scratching his mind. Of course he could've never known, how on earth he would be able to predict something like this, there was no way he could… But he knew something was coming, right? He had felt it. He had been feeling it for months, trying to convince himself it was just his exhaustion playing with his perception. He had kept quiet, he had tried to brush it under the rug, telling everyone —even himself— that they were fine, they would be fine. But they weren't. They hadn't been fine for a long time, and he had failed them. He had failed them all, he had failed everybody again, he—

He was quivering. But it wasn't him, it was the house.

Bruno held his breath and looked down. He could feel it under his feet; a soft tremor was making the floor vibrate. Was it an earthquake? Right now? Alarmed, he looked around, but no one came out from the nursery, no one screamed in the patio, no one else seemed to notice. He was there alone and he was the only one that felt, saw and heard Casita shuddering.

The first CRACK sounded so loud he almost screamed.

Bruno rushed to the gallery, almost tripping, and leaned over its railing to see the courtyard's floor cracking like glass. The fissures were born from the very core of the house, as if its heart was breaking, and spread all along the floor, splintering, reaching the walls, climbing them up like a spider web. He ran along the gallery, his eyes fixed in them, following their path, till they gathered around mamá's window, where the candle was burning. And then, its flame dimmed again.

He gasped, breathless. He stared, overwhelmed by that paralyzing dread, for a lapse of time that could be minutes or hours. He lost track of time so hard that he jumped when he heard voices at his back. Bruno turned sharply and saw Pepa and mamá climbing the front stairs to the gallery. Away from the town folks at last, the strong Madrigal matriarch could barely stand on her feet. Pepa was holding her to keep her steady, and that was so scary, so shocking, that his panic blew up and he had to muffle a yelp before running towards them, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

"¡Mamá!"

She was panting and looked at him with her poised mask totally broken, her forehead wrinkled in distress. She stretched out an arm to him and he took it immediately, gripping her hand and helping his sister to hold their mother.

"Come on," mamá mumbled huskily. "Come on, I— I need to sit down."

Bruno tried to speak, scream, ask, all at once. He had to warn her about the cracks; but when he looked back at her window, there was nothing in the walls or the floor. There was nothing anywhere, and he froze and went mute. What had all that been? Some hallucination induced by the stress? Some unrequired prophecy creeping into his brain while he was still awake? Sometimes, his mind would do strange things, especially after the reckless use he made of his gift when he was young, but this was—

"JULIETA!" Pepa shouted, and he jumped again and mamá flinched as if she had been hit.

"Pepa, por Dios…"

"S-sorry, sorry," she stuttered quickly, her nerves betrayed by her high pitched tone. "S-sorry, I-I didn't mean to— I-I'm a bit—"

"Go call your sister," mamá interrupted her. "Check on Mirabel, poor thing. What a disaster. What a…"

Her voice faded and she staggered again. Bruno nodded at Pepa and she flew to the nursery while he took mamá to her room. His mother kept her eyes wide open fixed on the candle as they approached it, her free hand gripping her black shawl, and he was glad she wasn't able to pay attention to anything else, because that gave him some room to shake his head and pull himself together as much as he could. He was surely looking anything but reassuring right now, and he didn't want to worsen mamá's turmoil even more. Though focusing in what was happening and getting rid of the image of the cracks took him a massive effort.

Pepa and Julieta joined them when they were reaching the glowing door, and the four of them rushed into mamá's room, as if desperate to find some shelter. It had always been like that when they were younger, every time any uncertain danger seemed to hover over the family. Like an instinctive mechanism of defense. All of them felt safer there, near the candle, in that magic space that mirrored the original house they had lost so many years ago. No one else in the family felt that deep necessity of gather together to steel themselves for a blow, not like they did; no one else could fully understand but no one would ever question it either. It was just their thing, even if they were already grownups almost in their forties and their mother was an elder.

None of them could breathe again till they reached the upper floor of mamá's room and met the candle. Only then, mamá let his hand go —Bruno felt it numb— and rushed to the window to check on it. They stared intently, holding their breath. No one dared to move a muscle, fearing its light could go out any moment. But seconds passed, and nothing happened. The flame, the whole candle, looked like always.

"What on earth has happened?" mamá mumbled absently. "Why— What has happened?"

Unconsciously, the triplets drew closer to each other. Bruno gulped once again, but he hadn't recovered his voice yet, so he couldn't say a word. Pepa was as rigid as a board, sweating and trembling, biting her lip and stroking her braid to not lose control. Julieta was the only one able to step forward, but even her hands were shaking and her voice quavered.

"Mamá, you should— y-you should sit down."

But mamá didn't sit down, as if suddenly she considered she wasn't allowed to. She started pacing up and down, slightly slouched and still gripping her shawl so tightly she almost looked like trying to enfold herself in it.

"Why— W-what's the meaning of this?" she kept mumbling under her breath. "What's the meaning of this? We have— We have dedicated our lives to— I-I don't understand. Have we failed? Have we done something wrong? Are we— Are we not doing enough for the Encanto?"

The triplets inhaled abruptly and exchanged alarmed glances, and Bruno knew his sisters were thinking exactly the same as him. Not doing enough? Quite the opposite. But mamá didn't notice their reaction; her eyes were still fixed on the candle.

"Is… is our miracle… dying?" Her voice cracked at the word and she covered her mouth with a shaking hand. "Ay, Pedro…"

Mamá staggered again and they moved immediately, as performing a choreography they knew by heart. Bruno ran to hold her, Julieta grabbed a chair and Pepa leaded her to sit down on it. She didn't refuse or protest, and seeing her so helpless, so lost, was terrifying. It was so terrifying that the smell of rain filled the room and a dark cloud started to form over their heads.

Mamá looked up. "Pepa…"

"I-I know, I know!" she screeched, trying to step back. "I-I'm sorry, I'm—"

But she couldn't finish. Mamá gripped her hand and pulled her closer with such a force that Pepa stumbled and kneeled at her side, suddenly wrapped on her arm. Bruno felt the pull on his own hand even before processing what was happening and, in a blink, he found himself also kneeling beside mamá, with her arm around him, as shocked as his sister. Mamá reached for Julieta and she joined them right away. And then she hugged them tightly, so, so tightly that they snuggled together like the petals of a closed flower bud.

She was holding them to her chest as she had held them almost forty years ago, in their darkest moment, to keep them safe and sound by the river. Bruno knew it, but the simple thought of it made him feel like crying. Pepa's chin was trembling and she buried her face on mamá's shoulder. Julieta sniffed, touched. And he just shut his eyes and melted in their arms, while all of them tightened their grip on each other. There was so much pain in that embrace, so much fear and desperation, that it felt suffocating but also warm, because they were together after all, holding each other. It hurt and comforted at the same time. It was terribly bittersweet. But they could breathe together, matching their rhythm, until their pulse calmed down and their nerves were soothed.

He wished that moment had lasted forever.

"Don't worry, mijos," mamá whispered after a while. "Don't worry, I'm here. I will— I will protect you all at any cost, I'll do anything, whatever is needed, I… I will…"

She trailed off, and Bruno couldn't help a shudder, struck by the feeling that she had forgotten they weren't her newborn triplets anymore. The grip they shared loosened up and they straightened up to look at their mother, his sisters as stunned as him. But mamá was staring blankly at the candle, her moisty eyes wide open, as if she was seeing something they couldn't see.

"We need to move," she added in a quavering mumble. "We need to move and get ready, we have to warn the children and… and…"

"Mamá," Pepa babbled, "what are you— Getting ready for what?"

She faced them and seemed surprised for a second, as if she couldn't recognize them. Bruno froze, but Julieta put a hand on her shoulder and said softly, "Mamá, nothing's coming. Don't worry. Loli said there's nothing beyond our mountains, not a single peep. There's nothing off in town either. Nothing's coming. We're safe."

Mamá held her gaze for what it felt like an eternity, and then turned again to the window, looking as if she was expecting to find the Encanto already set on fire. Bruno pressed his lips together. The expression on her face was heartbreaking.

But, an instant later, she blinked and finally seemed to be brought to her senses. She took a deep breath, straightening up too, and it was like witnessed a transformation, as she pushed her vulnerability deep down inside, put on her matriarch mask again and clenched her jaw in determination.

"We're not safe," she declared. "This ceremony has been a failure. Everybody was counting on us, and Mirabel hasn't been given a gift. Something's threatening our miracle, and we have to find out what it is and fix it, or we all are doomed. The whole Encanto will be doomed."

Julieta hesitated at her words and leaned back slightly to sit on her ankles, looking helpless too for the first time. Pepa glanced at her with her lips pursed and then met Bruno's eyes in a knowing look. Julieta had always been the strongest, the most stable and reliable of the triplets. She had been the perfect daughter since they were children, the one that never disappointed mamá and always managed to success in whatever she set out to; and that was a heavy responsibility, but also the reason she wasn't used to fail, unlike them both. Bruno and Pepa were a mess. If any of them messed things up, nobody would be too surprised. If Camilo had been the one who remained giftless, probably no one would've been so shocked. It was a bitter thought, but that didn't make it any less true. Now, however, the perfect Juli with her perfect older daughters was the one facing the biggest family failure of the last forty years, and he had the feeling it hadn't totally sunk in her yet. She seemed clueless about what to do. Seeing her baby girl going through something like this had had to be the hardest blow ever.

"M-maybe this isn't— m-maybe this isn't a big deal, after all?" Pepa suggested, sitting on the floor too, and she started twisting her braid when mamá looked at her, aghast. "I-I mean, Mira didn't get a gift, so what? We've freaked out because it was unexpected, but everything else seems normal, maybe— m-maybe she just wasn't meant to get a gift and that's all."

"What are you talking about?" mamá gasped. "Why on earth would something like this ever happen?"

"I-I don't know, mamá! Sometimes things just happen and that doesn't mean—"

"It has no sense." Mamá shook her head stubbornly. "The miracle created this refuge for all of us to be safe, and it chose our family to protect it. This is our duty, for the sake of the entire community. The whole town relies on us; the more gifts we have to help, the better. Why would the miracle deny us another gift now?"

"There's no new gift, ok, but we still have our own gifts and—"

"The miracle is as strong as the flame of the candle, Pepa," mamá cut her off, recovering her sternness every second. "It could be getting weaker. If it fades, all the gifts will fade with it. The magic that protects us all would be gone, ¿entiendes? It has no sense that suddenly one of us doesn't get a gift without any reason, it has to mean something, something is wrong, the miracle is trying to say us something."

It's telling us to stop, Bruno thought right away, and the sight of the fissures spread all over the walls hit him hard again. It's telling us to stop and open our eyes and change our route, or all of us will crack and crumble and there'll be nothing left of the Madrigal family but debris. He saw it crystal clear. He knew it. That was the answer: no more truces, no more patches. A change in their lives and mindset was mandatory. But he wasn't going to say it out loud, he couldn't say it out loud, not now, with everyone on edge. He had to keep quiet, think about it and figure out the best way to make them understand. He had to shut up.

It would've been easier if he hadn't remained still, staring into the void with round eyes full of dread. Before he could conceal the effects of his sudden realization, three pairs of eyes were fixed on him, as sharp as daggers. Bruno shifted at their scrutiny, sweating. "W-what— What?" He tried to speak, only to discover he could barely utter the words. "W-w-why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you have anything to say?" mamá asked carefully. He shook his head with more energy than necessary, like a child caught red-handed. But it didn't work, anyway; mamá could see perfectly through him, and Bruno noticed how the look on her eyes hardened. "Ok. Let's go, then."

She tried to get on her feet and the triplets leaped up, rushing to stop her.

"Whoa, whoa, waitwaitwait," he stuttered in trepidation. "W-what? Where?"

"To the cave, of course," mamá answered plainly, and she sounded frustrated at their attempts to slow her down and at her own weakness. "You have to look into the future and see what this means."

He felt a horrified scream creeping up his throat and tried to swallow it in desperation. "T-that's— t-that's not a good idea."

"What do you mean?" Mamá frowned at him, confused. "We need to. We have to know what's happening, Bruno. Isn't this exactly the meaning of your gift? Isn't it meant to warn us about any danger? We need it now more than ever, we need to know, we need to get ready."

He wished he could be able to explain her that getting ready was very different from getting paranoid, but he couldn't. He just could shake his head and hands vigorously in a gesture of utter refusal. "N-no way, I-I'm not gonna do a vision about this, we just—"

"Bruno," mamá's frown deepened, "the town, the family, needs your help, are you—"

"And since when does my gift help the family?" he snapped abruptly.

It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it, he shouldn't have said it, he should have bit it back. But he was unable to. He could feel the anxiety crawling under his skin, swirling in his chest, gripping his throat. It got worse when he saw their faces, especially mamá's and Julieta's, looking at him with wide eyes and lips parted, as if he had just slapped them. He could barely hold the urge to press his knuckles to his mouth to shut up forever, so he stepped back and crossed his arms instead, digging his hands under his elbows to hide his fingers tightly crossed.

"Bruno…" Julieta's weak whisper made him feel sick. "You know I've always— I've always supported you, but I… I don't think this is the right time for this. We're talking about my daughter's safety."

"Isabela's your daughter too and we all know what happened when I looked into her future."

Could the words just stop leaving his mouth? No, they couldn't. He was too nervous, too nervous. He was shaking again, feeling cornered.

"It's not the same at all—"

"This is not just about Mirabel," mamá interrupted Julieta, looking dumbfounded at his reaction. "This is about the miracle itself, it's about the safety of our home. The home of all of us. We can't just sit here and wait for this menace to destroy everything we've worked so hard for—"

"There's no menace knocking at the door, mamá," Bruno cut her off quickly, as he tried to shake off the certainty that the menace was already there, inside them. "We need time to process all this before doing something we could regret later and—"

"We will regret not doing anything if something bad—"

"A vision won't help right now, we're too upset to think clearly, I know you'll just assume the—"

"Are you seriously refusing to use your gift in a moment like—"

"I'm not gonna do anything till we calm down and—"

"We're fine!"

"WE'RE NOT FINE, MAMÁ!" he finally exploded, and his shout petrified them in pure shock. Bruno bit his lips, covered his mouth with his fists, tried very, very hard to stop talking. But he couldn't restrain himself anymore. "We're not fine, that's the point! Are you kidding? Am I the only one that noticed we all just had a breakdown five minutes ago?! Look at us, look at yourself! Pepa seems about to faint, Juli is barely holding the tears, I'm panicking! And you— y-you're pale and sweating, and I-I'm still afraid you'll have a heart attack any moment! What if this is too much, what if this overcomes you? You're not a machine, we're not machines, so don't tell me we're fine, because we're freaking out, and I'm not gonna do any vision right now to worsen it all even more!"

A deep silence fell over them, filling the room. He felt deaf for a moment, only able to hear his agitated breath and his frantic heartbeats rumbling on his own ears. Those had been too many words, too many, released after so much self-imposed silence that now he felt hollow. He was so scared he could barely recall what the hell he had just said. Had he gone too far? His stomach twisted, and he had to grit his teeth to hold a wave of nausea. He needed to touch wood, he needed it, his hands were aching to touch wood, but the only wooden thing near enough to knock on was mamá's chair, and he couldn't get closer to her, not now, not while she was looking at him with that expression, totally thunderstruck. So he just crossed his fingers again at his back till they hurt and waited and waited and waited.

Then, Pepa spoke, tearing him out of that awful spiral of fretting.

"M-mamá, Bruno's right," she said, and he almost collapsed in relief at her backup. "He's right, t-this isn't the best time to— t-to make big decisions. It's been a crazy night, you're exhausted, I-I'm worried about you too. We need to calm down to handle this properly. W-we should take some rest a-and talk it out tomorrow, right?" She gave him a tense look, eyes almost as round as Dolores', and Bruno nodded desperately.

"Tomorrow," he agreed, though he really wished all this was a simple nightmare that could be vanished by morning. "W-we'll talk it out tomorrow."

Mamá looked at them, still speechless, and then faced Julieta. Bruno glanced at her too, holding his breath. But she remained quiet for a while, staring at her feet, and it was obvious she was feeling torn. Of course Julieta had to know perfectly that relying on Bruno's gift right now was a terrible idea; whatever the vision was, mamá would assume the worst anyway. That wasn't going to help anyone. But Mira was her daughter, and of course Juli needed to know if she was in danger, if something bad was happening to her. She was so worried she probably wouldn't sleep a wink, and the guilt crushed him. But she took a deep breath and looked up, her hands clenched in fists grabbing her skirt.

"They… they're right, mamá," she finally said, though her voice sounded so dull Bruno gulped. "I don't think there's anything we can do for now. Mira's ceremony is over and what has happened can't be changed, as far as we know. If there's something wrong with the miracle, we'll find out, but… it doesn't have to be now. It can wait. Maybe tomorrow we'll be able to see this with… new eyes."

Mamá's mouth twitched, but the very proof of her own exhaustion was she didn't insist. She just lowered her gaze, brow frown, and nodded slowly. "Alright. Tomorrow."

Bruno exhaled deeply, but Julieta glanced at him and the shadow he saw in her eyes made his heart dropped.

"I have to go," she mumbled. "Agustín and the kids are with Mira, but I want to be with her too, she's my priority now. She's heartbroken." Julieta avoided their eyes in a very unusual way, and Bruno wished he could say something to comfort her, even if he had no idea of what. "Mamá, are you ok? Want me to bring you something to eat or drink? You should—"

"Don't worry, mija." Mamá shook her head, without looking her in the eye either. "Go take care of your daughter, she needs you."

Julieta nodded briefly, glanced one last time at her siblings and at the candle and turned to go back down. Pepa watched her go with her hands over her heart and, when they heard the room's door closing, she faced Bruno with lips pressed and eyes full of worry. The guilt scratched his insides again. He gulped, moved round mamá and joined his sister, anxious to get to her side and feel some more contact to steady himself. Pepa noticed, because she fumbled for his hand once he reached her and they intertwined their fingers so tightly it almost hurt. That was enough; enough to calm his nerves and to thank her, as always. It was a childish habit, perhaps, but he would have never been able to handle this by his own without ending it up in a catastrophe, so any gesture of support was vastly appreciated.

"Are you sure you don't need anything else, mami?" Pepa asked softly, as afraid of breaking that sudden quietness. Mamá just shook her head again, and Pepa stepped backwards, dragging him with her. "Y-you should rest. If you need us anytime, just—"

"Bruno," mamá whispered. "Please, stay."

They froze. Pepa looked down at him and he looked up at her. With a last squeeze he hoped to be reassuring, Bruno let her hand go and Pepa bit her lip, glancing at mamá.

"I— I'll go to check on the kids too," she muttered, before giving him her 'we'll talk later' look and leave the room, reluctantly.

Bruno inhaled and turned to mamá, trying to steel himself for whatever could come now. But she remained still, sit there like a forgotten ragdoll, her gaze as lost as herself in her thoughts. The silence grew so thick it got almost suffocating.

"M-mamá," he began, awkwardly, "I-I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't mean to—"

She raised a hand and he stopped. Then, she beckoned to him tiredly and Bruno rushed to her side, taking her arm to help her stand up. Together, they went back to the window, near the candle. Its glow glimmered in her moisty eyes. Holding her, he could feel her quivering slightly.

"I never thought this could happen," she admitted in a voice so tiny it almost didn't sound as herself. "I've done everything I could, and still…" Her words faded and she sighed. "What does this mean, Bruno?"

He tensed up again. "I-I don't know, I told you, I don't know, tomorrow we'll see what—"

"I'm not asking the fortuneteller," mamá said, finally meeting his eyes. "I'm asking my son. What do you think?"

His shoulders dropped and he held her gaze, crumbling at that unexpected sign of trust. He shook his head, still undecided, but let his guard down and answered, "I… I-I'm not sure. I don't think we're exactly in danger. At least, not a physical danger, I suppose. But there's something… there's something off that I can't explain…" He paused and pressed his lips together in a last attempt to keep quiet, but then sighed and confessed, "Tonight, I-I… I saw cracks in the house." Mamá took a sharp breath and gritted her teeth; but otherwise she didn't even blink, and Bruno gaped at her, stunned. "W-wait, did you already know? Have you seen them too?"

To his surprise, she nodded. "I've seen them in my dreams. Sometimes, when I'm walking across the hallway, I can hear that snap in the walls, as if they're breaking apart. But when I turn around, I see nothing." She made a pause, her lips trembling, and her voice lowered even more. "I'm getting old, mijo. And I'm afraid. I want to know you all will be safe when I'm not here anymore. I need to know the miracle will keep burning, protecting our home. I put my hopes on Mirabel, thinking her gift would stabilize this, but… There's something wrong with our Casita, and I don't know what it is. I can feel it, as if our magic was… rotting."

It was a shocking word to choose. Rotting, like a corpse. It made him think of death, and Bruno felt suddenly strangled by that blurred imagine of papá standing in the middle of the river that he had tried to picture a thousand times. Mamá had to be thinking the same, because her legs wavered and she gasped, "The chair, please."

Bruno reacted immediately and drew it towards them. She sat down again beside the window, with a deep sigh. And, for a while, neither of them could say anything.

"Bruno," she began then, her voice firmer but also full of… something he couldn't identify, "I know you hate your gift. I'm your mother, I'm not blind. I've tried to make you understand that you weren't given this gift as a punishment, but I suppose… it hasn't been enough. So if you think you're not helping the family, if you rather step aside, I… I won't stop you."

It looked like those words were like acid on her tongue, and Bruno stared at her with wide eyes, paralyzed. He had spent many months, many years, yearning for a break, but now— why did it sound as if she was giving up on him?

"What… what do you mean?"

But she just shook her head again. "All I ask you for is this last favor. I beg you. Don't leave us on tenterhooks, give us some answer."

"M-mamá, what— D-do you think I am the problem?" He felt breathless. "Do you think the magic is dying because I'm frustrated with my gift? Because I'm tired?"

"No," she groaned, but buried her face on her hands for a moment and he saw her shoulders shaking. "I don't know what the problem is. I don't know. That's why I need your help." She looked up at him, eyes full of distress. "Help me understand what's wrong. Please, mijo. I beg you to look into the future to see what this means. And then, if you don't want to do visions anymore, just… do as you wish. If that brings you peace, maybe it brings peace for all of us as well."

His mind was racing, overwhelmed. There were so many words crowding in his mouth, fighting to leave it all at once, and he tried to swallow them and looked at the candle to remain focused. But it didn't work, and finally he found himself babbling, "M-mamá, you should know my visions aren't the problem, you— I-I don't hate my gift, that's not true, I just— I just don't know how to—" He stopped and pressed a palm against his forehead, counting to ten. "You know better than anyone why I swore to not look into the future of any member of the family. I can't hurt our family. I couldn't bare it."

"Your father gave his life to protect us and that's the most hurtful thing I've had to endure ever." He froze at her remark and stood there stiffly, as she watched the candle with a blank expression. When she kept talking, her voice sounded absent. "Sometimes I wonder if you all can grasp how much we sacrificed to get here. You don't understand how many dangers surround our paradise and how vulnerable we actually are. I'm not complaining, I'm glad you can't understand; this is what we wanted for you. Your father and I. A safe place where you all could grow up and have a good life and be happy, without worries. But I know what's out there, threatening us. I know we must never take our safety for granted. We must keep moving, we can't stop. If we stop, we could lose everything again." She blinked, like waking up, and took a deep breath. "Protecting this place requires sacrifices; you're old enough to understand that much at least. You don't want to have a vision that could hurt the family, but in this case the family could get even hurter if you don't do it. It's up to you to decide what sacrifice you prefer."

What could he answer to that? There was no possible answer. He saw now clearer than ever that mamá wasn't actually there. Her body was there, of course, but not her mind. Her heart was still on the road, her soul was still on the run. She had never stopped fleeing, not for a second, over the last forty years. She had kept moving forward without looking back, feeling chased, dragging the whole family, the whole town, with her for decades, as she had carried her three babies in the past, holding them tightly to keep them safe. She was firmly convinced she was doing the right thing, she would make whatever sacrifice was needed and she would never stop.

And he had no idea of how to fight that.

He felt utterly useless.

"Mamá, I…" Bruno tried, but his voice vanished, muffled by the sadness and that burning feeling of helplessness.

She closed her eyes and sighed again. "Go take some sleep, mijo. We'll talk tomorrow."

Perhaps he should have insisted. Perhaps everything could've been different if he had stayed and spoken up and tried to explain himself. But he felt totally overcome, and when Bruno felt overcome, there was only one possible reaction.

He fled.

The gallery felt almost chilly when he left mamá's room and a shudder shook him from head to toe. He stumbled, as disoriented as if his brain had got stuck, and strode blindly to his tower, feeling on the verge of another panic.

"Bruno!"

The hissed call was about to make him shriek, and he tripped to a stop and turned to see Pepa running towards him from the opposite corner of the gallery, as if she had been pacing around since she left.

"What happened?" she whispered frantically, when she was almost over him. "What did she say?"

Bruno staggered and kept stepping backwards, to the safety of the dark corner that leaded to his room and away from mamá's window. "What else? She wanted me to understand how important is to do that damn vision!"

"You have to refuse!"

He choked on a hysteric titter. "Are you insane? I can't refuse!"

"But you must!" Pepa hissed again, looking at him so intensely he could barely hold her gaze. "Remember our last talk, ah? About mamá fumbling in the dark to find her answers, instead of looking at us? About what she really needs? You can't have a vision about this, she's gonna lose her mind no matter what you see! It'll be a nightmare!"

"And you think I don't know? B-but I can't— I-I just can't—" He was stuttering so much that the words tangled in his mouth and he had to stop with a desperate groan, gesturing to mamá's room. "S-she's there, looking as— looking as if all her worst fears had come true tonight, Pepa. She looks like— She looks so desperate, s-she thinks the miracle is dying, she thinks papá is dying again!"

Those words seemed to take her aback and she tensed up and hesitated for a second, before shaking her head again and frowning. "And how would a vision help to calm her down? What if you look into Mira's future and see something as horrible as always?" Bruno whimpered in frustration, pressing his palms to his forehead, and she seemed to fret. "As it always seems," she corrected herself quickly. "Seems, Bruno. You know how mamá is!"

"B-but what if— what if Mira's actually in danger or— What about Juli?" He couldn't breathe, dammit, he couldn't breathe. "I can't let her down, she looked so disappointed in me—"

"She's not disappointed in you, por Dios, she's just worried! We'll talk with her and—"

"What if this is—"

"Listen to me! We have to talk with Juli and calm her down first, and then the three of us can go to—"

"Could you just—"

"We must stick together to face mamá tomorrow and I'm sure she—"

"COULD YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?"

Pepa jolted and gaped at him, goggle-eyed, and Bruno himself felt startled by his own loud outburst. That wasn't what he wanted to say, that wasn't what he should have said, but she had been talking and talking, and the headache was killing him, and now she was frowning, and then he panicked and raised his hands, stuttering again. "S-sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry, I didn't mean— I-I just n-need to be alone to think, ok? I need space, I need…"

Pepa's expression told him what he actually needed was to shut up.

"You need space," she spat bitterly, her lips trembling. "This is one of our darkest moments, we should be together comforting the kids, comforting our sister, figuring this out, but you… y-you need space. Ok, take all the space!"

She turned to leave, and he reached out to grab her arm. "Pepa, wait, I—"

"You're always like this, Bruno!" she exclaimed quietly through gritted teeth, facing him sharply again and shrugging off his hand. "What's wrong with you? Do you think Julieta and I aren't tired or scared or worried? Do you think we don't need space sometimes? We do, but we're here dealing with this mess, because it's what we have to do! We have always dealt with problems together, the three of us, remember?! But lately you just shut yourself in your room and stay away from us! What the hell are you doing? You don't care anymore or what? Is that so?"

"No!" he cried, aghast. "Of course not! I just… I just…"

He couldn't find the words, and Pepa's mouth twitched in a hurt grimace. "Ya, of course. Go hide with your rats and enjoy your space!"

"P-Pepa, p-please…"

But she was gone, walking away furiously while the strong smell of rain filled the courtyard one more time.

He should have gone after her. Everything would've been different if he had gone after her and talk with his sisters and explain himself once and for all. He knew it, and he would have plenty of time to regret it. But in that very moment, he was feeling overcome. And when Bruno felt overcome…

He staggered to the stairs and tripped at least twice climbing to his room, almost hyperventilating, grabbing tightly the wooden handrail (knock, knock, knock). He threw himself to the door and closed it at his back (knock, knock, knock). He fumbled for the wardrobe (knock, knock), the shelves (knock, knock), the chair (knock, knock), the desk (knock, knock, knock, knock). He felt around for his bowls, in a shelf hung over the desk, and took a pinch from each one to throw it over his shoulder, first salt (one, two, three), then sugar (one, two, three). He repeated everything again, losing the count of how many times, pacing up and down stumbling, while his mind raced faster than ever in his life.

What was wrong with him?

Yeah, what?

What the hell was he doing?

Yeah, what?

What if it was true, after all? What if he had something to do with that debacle somehow? Always complaining about the drawbacks of his gift, always frustrated and tired, always trying to shun his responsibilities with the town, always letting everybody down. He had failed so many times, too many. If work and dedication were what kept the miracle burning, with how much work and dedication had he contributed? How many sacrifices had he actually done? His sisters were more and more burnt out every day, he knew it, and nevertheless they kept going. But he was too weak. He had always been too weak, hiding behind Juli and Pepa and trusting them to resolve everything, while he stayed in the shadows, unable to deal with people, unable to confront mamá, unable to do anything right. What if his weakness was some kind of infection that had been affecting the miracle? What if he had been ruining everything encouraging the others to slow down too, and being a bad example for his nieces, and projecting his issues on them, and—

He felt like throwing up.

Bruno bent over the desk, pressing his hands against the wood till the wave of nausea eased off. He focused just on breathing in and breathing out for a long moment, trying to soothe his nerves. But his brain was aching so much it was almost blinding. He knew what that meant; the vision was already there, knocking at the back of his mind. He needed to know, too, and that necessity was so strong that holding it back would just overcome his senses, and it would take over his mind, and would vomit on his brain a chaos of senseless, useless images of the future. Panting, he squinted at the sand clock door, his sight already starting to blur. He needed to know now, before anyone else, to get ready. He needed it. So he headed to the cave.

There was a rumor filling the tower, making the stone vibrate, as if responding one more time to his emotions. The sound of a mechanism forced to the extreme of almost breaking. Bruno could hear the flow of sand louder than ever, sliding slowly inside the walls in its never-ending cycle, like the sand of an actual hourglass. It hit him with an ominous feeling, but he strode to the stairs anyway, and touched the rock to use his shortcut, and his room took him to the top with a low screech that sounded like a cry of pain. He crossed the bridge, now visible, all the tricks and jokes melted by the heat of his worry. The hall was already lit by the clay lanterns lined along the stone benches, and the candlelight twinkled as he passed, projecting dancing shadows in the walls. The rats raised their heads and watch him, but whatever they felt around him was enough to make them slip away, as if they were fleeing from a sinking boat. And when Bruno reached the chamber's door and knock on it before stepping in, the sound echoed around the whole cave. As the slam of the door closing after him.

Mamá was wrong. He didn't hate his gift; not really, when he could use it on his own terms to look into what he chose, free to analyze his predictions without pushy visitors demanding answers or making misguided assumptions. Having visions for others forced him to make the ritual with them; but when he could do it all alone, it was soothing and pleasant, like applying cold to a fever. He was caught by the memorized steps, setting the fire, smashing the herbs, measuring the oil, focusing on the textures, the scents and the silence to empty his mind and calm his heart. Sometimes, he just set the logs on fire and sat there for minutes, hours, watching the flames till they got consumed and his frame of mind was the best possible.

That was what he did that night. He sat, breathed and waited. So, when he finally used his power to summon the sand whirlwind, he had completely lost track of time.

Bruno had dared to hope, as always. He had hoped their fears were unfounded, and everything was just as simple as Pepa had said, and there was nothing wrong with the house or the magic or the family. But, also as always, his hopes got crushed under the destruction displayed in his sight. He saw the candle falling, the Encanto cracking, the mountains breaking apart. Breathless, he saw his family running and screaming in fear. He turned around, searching frantically in the sand. And then their house, their home, took form before him and cracked, just as the cracked walls he had seen in the courtyard after the failed ceremony.

"No," Bruno gasped. "No, no, please…"

He pushed his power a bit more, desperate, and a flash of light created another shape of sand: a girl with the curls and glasses of his youngest niece. Mirabel stood upright before the house, and the cracks started pulsing like a heartbeat, opening and closing. Bruno frowned, but the anxiety was bubbling inside him again, too distracting, and he felt the heat that preceded the end of the vision. The imagen glowed and turned into light, and he raised his hands to take the green plate as it turned solid. And, when the swirl dissolved and the sand fell, he stayed there, holding the vision so tightly that his hands shook slightly.

From one angle, Mirabel was standing before a broken house.

From the other, the house behind her was safe and sound.

Miércoles.

Bruno looked up at the dome and bit his lip to suppress a groan. Variables! Always, always variables! Of course! That future was too complex to be sealed, anything was possible. But undecided futures were the most difficult to explain. People always wanted concrete answers, most of them didn't understand there was a wide range of possibilities. When they were indeed presented with a wide range of possibilities, they usually chose to focus on the worst.

And he was holding a vision of his niece with Casita destroyed behind her.

He started pacing around, trembling. "Ok," he mumbled to himself, "ok, ok, ok, calm down, calm down, let's think… W-what does this mean, what, what…"

But the more he thought about it, the more he understood it didn't matter what it meant. Mirabel could be both the cause of Casita's destruction or reconstruction, both in a direct or an indirect way, she could be both an angel of doom or salvation, and it didn't matter in the slightest, because she was there with the crumbling house, and everyone was just going to assume the worst.

Mamá was going to assume the worst.

Something really, really cold twisted inside him, making him feel sick. Mamá couldn't see that vision, he couldn't show her that vision under any circumstance. But she wanted to know. She had begged him. And she would never accept a refusal, she would keep pushing, she would want to be present during the ritual and see it with her own eyes, and she would climb all the stairs up to there on foot if necessary, because she was Alma Madrigal, and she never stopped, she always did whatever was needed to protect the Encanto. There was no way he could avoid it.

But he couldn't show her. Bruno was old and experienced enough to know perfectly what a self-fulfilling prophecy was. If mamá saw Casita crumbling, her reaction would inevitably lead to the destruction of the house. He knew it, he didn't need to use his gift for that. That plate was a picture of her worst fears actually confirmed. The situation they had been dragging along would blow up if she saw it, and she would lose her mind, she would blame the poor child, she would quarrel with Juli and Agustín, and the family would break apart as well as the house. And then what? What would all of them do? What would he do, after destroying everything he loved with one of his damn visions?

The key was Mirabel. Maybe she was meant to do something big in the future to fix that mess once and for all. Maybe she hadn't been given a gift for a reason, to make the family open their eyes. She looked like a teenager in the plate, maybe she just needed time to grow up and… and…

And she wouldn't have any time if he was there.

That realization stroke him like a lightning, and Bruno froze, standing in the middle of his chamber as still as a rock. All paths leaded to the same conclusion, and his pulse speeded up, strangling him.

He couldn't be there. He had to go.

"No," he choked, shaking his head desperately. "N-no, no, no way, t-there has to be another…"

But there wasn't. He kept shaking his head till his neck hurt, but there wasn't any other solution. If he stayed, he would trigger the fracture of the family one way or another. Nothing would be the same anymore. That was a turning point for the Madrigals and he had to choose, move, do anything. He had to. What would've papá done?

Sacrificing himself.

Bruno bit his lips, bending over in an attempt to hold himself together. A sacrifice, that was what papá would've done, that was what papá had done, hadn't he? At the river. Sacrificing himself to buy them some time and keep them safe. Wasn't that exactly what the family needed now again?

Protecting this place requires sacrifices. It's up to you to decide what sacrifice you prefer.

He whimpered helplessly, but his mind kept racing. He had to go, he had to go now, right now, before anyone could stop him, and stay away and protect them from his own prophecies. He had to go, but his mind got flooded with all his plans and worries and projects, and what about his niblings? They were struggling with a lot of things, they needed him, he needed to be there for them, he needed— he needed them, he needed to be needed, but they didn't need him that much, right? If he wasn't there, everything would be fine anyway, it didn't matter, because he was the dispensable one, he had always been and he knew it, and they would be fine, they would, because Isabela, Luisa and Mirabel had their caring parents and Juli and Agustín would keep them safe and loved, and Félix would take care of Pepa and their kids, and Pepa would protect Camilo at any cost, and… a-and… and what about his Loli? What about his girl?

He could barely hold back a sob.

What about his sisters?

What about him?

He was nothing without them. He hadn't spent a single day in his whole damn life away from Juli and Pepa, he couldn't live without them, even if Juli was disappointed, even if Pepa was angry. They had been through a lot together, they had always existed together. It was supposed to be always the three of them. Always.

"I can't do it," he babbled, his voice quavering in the silence of the chamber. "Please, I can't do this…"

But papá had kissed them goodbye and faced death for them. He had loved them so much he had sacrificed everything, leaving his heart behind with his wife and children. And Bruno loved his family as much as him, they were his everything. He was sick of being weak. He was tired of failing.

He wasn't going to fail them now.

He would do anything for them.

A loud rumble shook the chamber and its stone walls cracked and dislocated, growing rawer rocks, distorting its round, smooth shape. Like a core that was getting squeezed. Bruno could feel the tremor inside his own chest, and he knew his heart had already made his decision before his head could catch up. So he gritted his teeth till his jaw hurt, looked at the green plate one last time and dropped it. It crashed against the stones, shattering, and the sand seemed to swallow its pieces, like a pond of quicksand.

Hide it. Hide it forever. No one must see it.

The rumble increased, around the cave and inside his skull. As Bruno headed to the door with wide strides, the sand followed him, swirling at his feet. A wild whirlwind slammed the door open to clear his way, and swept the lanterns of the hall as he passed, and suddenly there was nothing there but the noise of broken clay, darkness and cold. The moonlight coming from the tower's window lit his way when he crossed the arched entrance to the hall, and then he saw all his room was shaking in pain, as well as his soul. It seemed about to crumble as much as he. So he ran mindlessly.

Hide it, hide it, hide it, hide it.

Bruno crossed the bridge running and heard it cracking at his back, falling apart, destroying the platform that Isa had covered with flowers not so long ago. He punched the wall to activate his shortcut and the stairs tried to get him down, but everything was already malfunctioning. The stone steps jerked and threw him forwards in a crazy descent that almost stopped his heart. They spun along the tower's walls so fast that some wooden posts of the roped railing were ripped away by the force of the movement. At a sharp curve, he was literally ejected into the air and, for a dreadful second, Bruno thought everything was really over for him.

But his room roared. A massive wave of sand rose, as huge as a dune, to catch him in his fall. And he rolled and rolled down, curling up to protect his head and holding his breathe, till his body hit hard the floor and he lay there, sore, coughing sand. With a horrible screech, the whole tower sank several meters into the ground and rumbled again, and the walls waved and turned rougher, like the raw flesh of an open wound. For a few seconds, all was chaos, sand falling, rocks crumbling. And then, suddenly, a deep silence.

Bruno sat up slowly, panting heavily, blinded by the shock. His heart seemed about to escape his chest. There was a loud buzz filling his ears, from both his frantic pulse and the crash of the place that had been his refuge and his prison for the last thirty five years. He looked around with wide eyes, unable to process it. It looked so… wrong. So lifeless and wild. Like a broken hourglass, full of leaks that bled sand. Like a broken heart, rugged and jagged. A ruined room, now uninhabitable, pushing him away.

Something deep inside him broke in that moment. The last thread that connected him with his gift, with his miracle. He felt so hollow, so empty, so lost. There was nothing in his future but dense darkness. Trying to breathe and failing miserably, he started trembling again.

Bruno had wondered many times how would it be to live through something as extreme as mamá did. Losing everything in a blink; turning around and discovering your life had radically changed forever in a matter of seconds and would never be the same. He hadn't wanted to understand. He had hoped and prayed to never find himself forced to understand.

But now, he understood. Sitting on the sand, surrounded by the debris of his whole life and looking into the eyes of his darkest moment, he fully understood.

And then, he cried.

#encanto #disney encanto #encanto fanfics #my art #madrigal family #madrigal triplets #bruno madrigal #alma madrigal #the whole family has a little role here btw #friendly reminder that in this house we respect Alma Madrigal #her part was one of my favorites to write #I have too many feelings about this fics ashfkfhs #just let me know your opinions :')

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potteresque-ire · 3 years ago

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Commentary ~ Little Red Little Green Episode 18, “Fruits & Found Family”

Link to original post in Chinese, posted 2021/05/23. Link to official English translation.

(Disclaimer / Notes + Commentary under the cut!) (TW: possible eating disorder)

Disclaimer / Notes:

While the posts by Little Red Little Green (LRLG) are among my most favourite candies, I’d like to remind everyone that they are fake rumours, and should be read and enjoyed as such. ie, all CPN below!

The English translation linked above is the only one authorised by the Fake Rumour House; therefore, please treat all content below as a very casual, very *unofficial* convo between fellow turtle friends! ❤️💛💚

With Chinese being a highly region-specific language, my reactions to it is necessarily filtered through my background, which is, admittedly, somewhat removed from Gg’s, Dd’s and LRLG’s. However, it is not uncommon for even c-turtles (and several times, LRLG themselves) to be lost with what they read / heard due to regional differences ~ which reflects the reality of communicating in the Sinosphere. In fact, the regionality of the dialects used by different “characters” in LRLG’s dialogues is among the most critical elements that make these posts so authentic-sounding, and so difficult to replicate. A fun activity of following LRLG is to watch c-turtles patch their regional knowledge together, from local slangs to food choices, to make sense of what’s going on.

Okay, with that all said *phew* ... onto the commentary! “p. X” refers to the panel number in the official English translation (there are 7 total in the Twitter post).

p1. “Fairy”

Likely referring to the similarity between Gg’s current role for 玉骨遥 (The Longest Promise) and LWJ. Dd was praising Gg for being “fairy-like”; Chinese “fairies” (仙) have a certain style especially in visual media, similar to ... LWJ’s ~ otherworldly, white robes that billow in the wind, peaceful to the point of distant, scholarly, delicate. In between the lines, Gg likely said he was simply playing LWJ (hence, the ”act another me” in the translation), which Dd protested... and said Gg was simply playing himself. Whether that means DD IS NOT LWJ!!!!! 😡😡😡 or something else, we’ll know what we get to watch the show!

p1-p2. “Heat”

Yes about the Chang’e 嫦娥 reference!! Despite Houyi 后羿 shooting down 9/10 suns and saving the day, his wife is, indeed, more famous (and therefore the star, the more powerful one), because she’s frequently featured in Mid-Autumn festival art, along with her pet rabbit 玉兔 (”Jade Rabbit”),:

(Chang’e with her bunny, traditional Chinese painting. Source.)

Below is Gg’s rendition of Chang’e / Jade Bunny pair ~ Chang’e being the superman in the drawing while Jade Bunny is crouching on the planet!!

Guess of the missing convo from Gg’s side: Gg had wanted to bring something to Hengdian (where the filming of The Longest Promise was taking place) to cool himself down, and Dd had said it wasn’t necessarily. Hence Dd’s “My bad my bad” and the promise to send that something to Gg.

The loveliest line in this segment for me—and for many c-turtles— is the one about white hair. Turning grey a common, but very old-fashioned way of expressing worry and poor Dd, who hasn’t even turned 24, is claiming he was turning white because he got so worried every time Gg complained about the heat (Aww).

Turning grey with worry isn’t limited to romantic situations — it may happen to doting parents with wayward children, for example, or to ancient patriots over their crumbling kingdom. However, it’s also one of the more (very!) dramatic ways to communicate tragic love in Chinese fiction before Western influence allows “love”, as a term / word / character, to be used explicitly in writing romance.

Here’s a little example, a little diversion that may be of interest. Those who are familiar with the Wuxia classic Return of the Condor Heroes 神雕俠侶 by Jin Yong 金庸, whether it’s the book or its numerous visual adaptations, may remember how the hero, Yang Guo 楊過, went white at his temples overnight after his Shifu and lover, Xiao Long Nv (小龍女), didn’t show up at the cliff at the end of his 16-year wait for her.

Set photo from a TV adaption of Return of the Condor Heroes, 1995. Turtles may find the actress playing the perenially white-wearing, calm-to-the point-of-aloof Xiao Long Nv, Carmen Li 李若彤, familiar ~ she also played Lan Yi in The Untamed.

The 16-year wait, the invitation to Carmen to play Lan Zhan’s ancestor (when the two shared similarities in aesthetics and personality), were two of the three references from Return of the Condor Heroes I picked up from The Untamed (the last one was more specific—WWX mentioned Yang Guo’s master 獨孤求敗). This tribute is unconfirmed, but MXTX did say before that Jin Yong’s works were her inspiration. I also read a (small) discussion on whether LWJ’s hair carried a few pieces of white in the final episode, or if the lighter strands in it were a trick of the sunlight. (Here’s a screenshot of the approximate place to look!!)

While I lean towards the latter (the sunlight), turning white with worry, with love, is a tradition in Chinese storytelling. Here’s a little something I’ve noticed too, on this note ~ both in the actual interviews and in these fake rumours, Dd’s word choices, the way he conveys emotions are sometimes surprisingly traditional. It can be because of his background (which would require a study of how Luo Yang people and Koreans talk); it can be because the traditional way of talking allows for fewer words to be said, fewer things to have to be explicitly explained (example: LWJ), but the effect is that Dd has supplied the most romantic lines in LRLG’s posts because of that ~ romantic because it harks back to the rhythm, the themes of old poetry, of ancient stories that, as were true everywhere in the world, were about love.

Okay, back to the rumour (and hoping Dd won’t look like Bad Wig Yang Guo in a few more summers!) ....

The line after the one about white hair ... the way I understand the original Chinese sentence is “Heat is The Reason”: ie, anything Dd wants Gg to do and Gg disagrees, Gg would use heat as The Reason (R) to not do it. This anything may be eating, for example, which also has a strong possibility as conventional Chinese wisdom says that heat causes people to lose appetite. Dd’s worry would therefore be: Gg refusing to eat because he claims it’s too hot to do so.

“Corny joke” ~ the Chinese for this is, literally, “cold 冷 joke 笑話”, which becomes a pun as the gzry (team members)’s joke was about the (cold) winter and black hair. So... Dd threw a corny joke to combat a corny joke :D .

p3. “Apple”

The first half I also had to rely on c-turtles to help me interpret what it meant! Regional dialects aside, LRLG has captured dls’s very quick wit, the way his ideas freely hop from one concept to the next and this hopping carries traditional + popular cultural references that I know only a fraction of, not being a local after all.

I’ve read an additional interpretation of this segment: “big fruit” 大果兒 (as in dls: “Those are all big fruits, all big fruits”) is a Northern Chinese, traditional slang for women—dls might have connected that with the previous line in the convo about being Guowang, as explained in the translation, and “big and juicy” + “touch to feel” being suggestive phrases. Then, given the rare usage of the big fruit = women slang, dls expressed surprise that Dd understood what he meant, went on to say he expected Gg to know it (implying Gg could’ve taught Dd the meaning) ...

Which led to the entertaining part of this segment. Dd was like “You guys (= Gg + dls) talked?” Dls appeared to have thought of the scenario customarily inviting this question (scenario: someone on the verge of catching their spouse cheating) and began playacting that scenario, started to stammer ... as if he had just been got caught trying to chat up someone’s spouse ~ ”I-I-I....how to say it ...”. Dd caught on dls’s playacting and went along, continued with the “accusation”: “You’re stammering”. Dls then noted that Dd’s accusation was scary and Dd smiled, ending the playact ~ so, ah, readers, never mess with Dd’s spouse!! Dd gets scary!!

(BTW: ”nijia na kouzi” 你家那口子 was explained in the translation for a reason ~ It’s a warm, friendly term for a dear friend’s spouse. 😊)

p4. Lychees

Lychees. Has everyone tried them? It’s important not to over-eat them though...

In which the “Feeding Gg” saga continues! This segment is one of those that are wonderful for fic writers who wish to capture Gg and Dd in words. Gg, like many brought up in traditional families, has trouble saying “no” outright, which is often considered rude. As such, he resorted to delay tactics, something he had also done with the fried noodles in The Makeup Room BTS.

In the BTS, his delay tactics had been to argue that Dd hadn’t eaten his box of noodles and therefore, he couldn’t start (~2:35 mark)—as proper manners indeed dictated. In this dialogue, his delay tactics was to say he’d eat the lychees later, that the lychees would make him too full for the proper meal (rice).

A cute thing about this convo is that rather than pouting and grumbling his only being LWJ’s replacement (as he had hilariously done in the BTS), Dd had, apparently over the last three years, become an expert on countering such delay tactics. He peeled the lychees, which not only removed a major obstacle for eating, but also set a timer as peeled lychees get dry quickly (and Gg, despite being a picky eater, didn’t seem to like to waste food). He said the fruit could make appetiser. He got the help of their team members, who assured Gg that two lychees would be all right.

Gg’s response to the assurance... takes a little time to explain.

The original Chinese line for “Great, great, you’re so awesome” was 絕了絕了你們絕了。 “絕了”, a popular phrase used by Chinese netizens, was repeated three times.

絕, literally, means the extreme, the absolute, the end. 絕了 means pretty much the same ~ a thing that is 絕了 is standing en pointe at the edge of the cliff that is The Absolute End of a spectrum. It is the Ultimate. It can't be surpassed. It’s unbeatable.

絕了 is usually used in a positive sense, as in the English translation, with the positive being implied. If I say the LWJ photo above is 絕了, for example, I don’t need to specify that the extreme in 絕 stands on the good end. It’s understood given the audience of this post are mostly turtles (HELLO *waves*). We’re all heart-eyes here. We agree, without saying, that this photo is The Top, The Pinnacle; it can’t be better. 絕了 is higher praise than Excellent; it’s so good that there are no adjectives for it. Its own presence defines How Good It Is.

But 絕了 doesn’t have to be positive. If my audience is Su She ... he’s likely to take the same “This LWJ photo is 絕了” to mean the Mariana Trench kind of Absolute—the bottom of the bottom, the Unbeatable, Adjective-Defying Worst.

絕了 allows for that understanding too.

In this scenario, I interpret Gg’s 絕了 as taking the meaning of both extremes (which make it a fantastic phrase choice!): that Gg thought Dd and the team members were being both the Absolute Best (for thinking of Gg, caring for him) AND the Absolute Worst (for going against his wish to not eat!) Gg’s 絕了 also signals defeat; if Dd and his team members were The Absolute ... Whatever, then poor Gg had no choice but to yield to their wishes. I can already imagine his “I can’t believe I lose this way” Look (see: every rock-paper-scissors he lost, which was ... pretty much all of them), mixed with, perhaps, a healthy amount of bunny tooth warning (how dare Dd et al banded up against him)...

Those bunny teeth had to be taken care of, right? And so Dd went on to say lychees being good omen that ensure things would go smoothly for the eater... targeting Gg’s being a, as c-turtles call it, 小迷信 (literally, “Little Superstitious”, a young + adorable + superstitious person). Dd said that to help Gg justify the choice to eat, to make Gg feel better about his defeat.

(Of note: I had actually never heard of lychees being associated with good luck before, and a quick search online also didn’t yield any result. This could be a relatively rare association Google failed to catch ... or something Dd made up on the fly to make Gg happy.)

(Lychees have, however, been associated with romance. If Emperor’s Smile 天子笑 was The Love Drink in The Untamed, then what is Concubine’s Smile 妃子笑? Answer: it’s the RL name of a type of lychees, lychees being the fruit very much adored by Yang Yuhuan 楊玉環, the consort of the Emperor Xuanzong (685-762 BCE) of the Tang Dynasty and one of the four most beautiful woman in Chinese history. Since lychees had only been grown in southern China, the emperor had had the fruit couriered, in express mode involving many horses, to the palace up north to please his favourite wife. Lychees had become a symbol of love from that historical tale.)

Did Gg get Dd’s message then, the love and care packaged in those peeled, sweet fruit awaiting his bite? Yes, but not without a little more fight! “Eat eat eat, (I’ll eat) until you go bankrupt” is a literal translation of his final line. Tonally, I can see the following as being an alternative translation:

“Fine fine fine. I’ll eat, it’s not like I can bankrupt you by eating anyway!”

If it sounded a little sulky, that’s because it did ... a little sulky AND fiery. As expected from our favourite Chongqing Big Pepper 😂😂😂 (Poor Gg).

Dd smiled at that, needless to say. He won!!! He got Gg to eat!! The world shall rejoice!!

p5. “Showtime”

There’s a show coming up for Dd (the YH concert maybe?), and Gg offered suggestions.

The sweet point of this segment is about half-way down the conversation, in the piece of paper 📄 Gg gave to Dd (after “This is for you.”). Dd took the paper, noted the many words on it, and started saying 我把我整個靈魂, translated as “I bring my entire soul”.

c-Turtles have, based on these words, hypothesised that Dd was about to read out a quote that Gg had written on the paper, with the list of items Gg thought Dd should take, before Gg stopped him with a call of his name (“WYB”). The quote was included on the translation (”I give you my entire soul...only, a little good, love you.”) I have also talked about the same quote, in more detail, here.

I’m equally stumped on the final line of this segment. (Sorry!!)

p6. “Found Family”

It’s a heartwarming segment. While LRLG had previously noted that the TTXS bros had communicated with Gg, this segment made clear that they care for him like they do for Dd ~ as family.

* dls mailed Gg a lot of fruit for sharing with the film crew. “Family member needs to be impressive” is a rough translation, but this line does defy simple translation because 排面 a highly cultural concept that has much to do with the equally complex, Chinese concept of face (which this article explains... somewhat adequately). The message to take home is that dls cared enough about Gg that he wanted to make sure Gg wouldn’t lose face in front of the film crew; that, by having enough gifts (fruits) for everyone, Gg wouldn’t be viewed as cheap or inadequate or stingy, or whatever adjective that wouldn’t befit his top idol status. Because dls saw Gg as a member of his family.

* The prescription from hg had been mentioned in a previous LRLG rumour. 方子 is a Chinese medicine prescription, which, unlike Western formulations, is individualised both to the discomfort / ailment and to the “body constitution” of the person who'll take it, the latter deciding the kind of ailments the person is susceptible to, and which ingredients are expected to be more effective. Chinese medicine also places a strong emphasises on long-term conditioning, whether it’s for recovery from a certain condition or for general good health. A good 方子 is therefore a far more complex and personal thing than, say, a scribble of “paracetamol” / “acetaminophen” on a piece of paper. :D

* fg’s gift for Gg (xx) is something for the waist. A brace support, maybe? For example?

My favourite line in this segment is when hg asked what will Gg and Dd do when they reach hg’s age. Given that the last two items (the prescription and xx) were health-related, I interpreted it as hg worrying about Gg and Dd’s health when they grow old... with all the health problems they already have. It’s the kind of thing a worried parent say to their children ~ my mom has said the same thing to me as well. 😢

p6. “The Cat Paw”

Not quite sure what’s happening here ... not sure what the cat paw is. (Sorry!!) But that é in the translation is Dd’s signature laugh (collection here), which is written as 鵝 (”Goose”) in Chinese 😂.

p7. “The Cat Toy”

Dd appeared to be shopping for a cat’s toy (something that can “hook the cat” in the translation, such that the cat can entertain itself and not rely on human companionship as much). Gg had already bought the toy though and sounded quite proud of it, told Dd to return the toy. The implied cat was, of course, Nut (堅果 Jianguo)... which had been repeatedly referred to in LRLG’s posts as Gg’s daughter.

p7. “Cool vs Cute”

Gg is often viewed as cute, and Dd as cool. Did Dd dislike Gg taking cute pictures for public consumption? Were they scheming an exchange of image? :D

And that’s it for this issue! Ooh, this took unexpectedly long ... I apologise for the ridiculous delay between the original post and this commentary!

(I wrote half of it, then RL struck and I forgot about it.) (I’m hopeless.) (I need a 方子 for poor memory!!)

#pie eats candies #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx #LRLG

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goblins-riddles-or-frocks · 3 years ago

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vi what is going on omg

I don’t even know, it’s bizarre!

Basically my original point was that sometimes when people in fandom have a favorite character, they tend to bend over backwards to justify every single thing they’ve ever done. Or to explain why they’re Not Bad Actually.

This gets… thorny with the Millennium characters in Hellsing. I know the quick argument is to say “Well no one is claiming Millennium characters don’t suck.” Which true! The thing that fans seem to want to argue the most is that their faves aren’t actually Nazis. And what I see happen most often is people starting to add qualifiers about what makes a real Nazi, in order to absolve their anime characters. And it can, and often does, quickly slide into actual Nazi apologist rhetoric. You can get the typical “just following orders” type excuses and even more convoluted “well what does a swastika mean, really?” arguments.

Millennium characters are explicitly, in canon, literal WWII Nazis. When you start splitting hairs over that, it’s really uncomfortable!

And honestly I have seen a lot of it over the years. On tumblr, on reddit (sooo much on reddit jfc), on Discord servers— that I promptly left lmao. I have no intention though of randomly tagging people who I feel have posted distasteful things or getting into fights with them. I don’t have the time or the interest!

But that one person apparently felt the need to make their outrage over me complaining about something on my own blog into everyone’s problem. They seem determined to believe that I am like, personally harassing and policing anyone who likes Millennium characters? Anyway I literally could not care less who likes them, and that is not what I meant by Nazi apologism.

They’re definitely not characters I care about? I find them kind of boring and distasteful outside of their roles as villains/what they thematically represent for the other characters, so I don’t personally write fic or meta stuff about them. But like I’ve literally also made dumb shitposts and jokes about Millennium characters. I cannot state enough how much I do not care about someone deciding to RP as or write fic for them. I have a job, I pay taxes lmao. It’s not my problem.

Anyway I blocked that person so they’d stop trying to talk to me, and then instead they decided to do a weird callout post esque screencapping of my post thread, even though it’s literally all public and in a single post. I’m not sure what they’re trying to accomplish? But the entitlement and sealioning is incredibly funny.

On a semi related note, someone else also told me that apparently a blog in the replies to my post had a call out post written about them? I literally don’t know anything about that lol I only vaguely recognize the url as someone who’s sent me asks in the past. We’re not mutuals, I don’t know them. Sorry?

I don’t typically get into fights on tumblr, and I wasn’t trying to get into one now! I can literally count on one hand the number of times I’ve gotten into tumblr drama over the like decade I’ve been on this site with various accounts. But yeah apologies for spamming the dash with nonsense omg

#nazis for ts #@ my followers really really sorry for making you watch this nonsense play out lol #this is what I get for engaging with their initial reblog of my post #hellsing #I’m not walking back anything I said though #I stand by it 🤷‍♀️#anyway I’m going to try not to spam about this anymore unless something egregious happens #discourse #i ramble sometimes

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everythingsinred · 3 years ago

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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 24)

Hello, friends. The story is rapidly approaching an end. I imagine I'll only be posting for another couple weeks (maybe three at the most) before this essay draws to a close.

Last night we wrapped up the Time Travel Arc. Now we return to the larger parent arc, the Escape Arc. Mikan has made up her mind to escape the school with her mother, and although this breaks Natsume's heart, he'll do all he can to get her out safely without at all complaining. If she's leaving for good, then the only thing that matters to him for the next little bit is keeping her as safe as possible. After that, he's resigned himself to a lonely and imminent death... And then Mikan has an epiphany.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

They’re finally all back in the present. The room they left is now empty, and they wonder what happened. Undoubtedly the situation is more pressing than ever.

Mikan is concerned about everyone’s safety, but Natsume makes it clear that the priority is making sure she can make it out of the academy with her mother. If she’s going to leave, then he will do everything he can to make sure the process goes as smoothly and safely for her as possible. Her concerns about everyone else have no place here when everyone’s dreams and futures are threatened by the ESP if he ever gets his hands on Mikan’s alices. Besides, his happiness and safety always come dead last to him. He’d act and speak this way, even if it was only Mikan’s well-being on the line.

He will protect her no matter what happens, he says. That’s his priority. This is no different than the way he’s been living for the last year or so.

Yeah, there's the whole thing with the school and protecting the student body and stopping the ESP but Mikan is his priority always.

Everyone else agrees, and Mikan is outvoted. She comes first now.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven

Mikan and her friends run into a horde of students, either controlled by Luna’s alice or afraid that they’ll end up being controlled or punished. They all move to attack Mikan in particular, to capture her because maybe they’ll even be rewarded for it.

This is a mistake, because Natsume will not allow anything to happen to her. He uses his alice to fend off the students, but his fire takes a strange shape, unlike anything he’s ever made before. His ability to manipulate the shape better than ever is a result of the stone Mikan inserted into him, which Tsubasa theorizes is psychokinesis.

Ruka pleads with him to stop, concerned about Natsume’s health the more he uses his alice. He immediately stops on the behest of his best friend, but then he uses his new alice to pull everyone over closer to him. Mikan specifically flies into his arms, where he wanted her. He’s able to catch her, whereas the others land on their heads. Now that they’re safer, he tells her to teleport them.

Who cares where the rest of them land? They can deal with it on their own.

Tsubasa comments that this extra power makes Natsume feel like more of a man, more powerful. This isn’t a farfetched theory. We know how much Natsume wants to grow up, to have power. Now that he has this extra alice, he’s more useful than he already was, and that naturally translates into some extra confidence.

Another thing is that Natsume is putting his all into getting Mikan out safe. He’s willing to expend all his energy and alice in order to accomplish his goal. Adding on to that, he knows he won’t see her again after this. He can hold on for a little longer, but to survive the unknowable amount of years before he can see her again? Unlikely. He doubted he’d even be able to graduate, let alone be on standby for possibly a decade and maybe even more. He has no reason to believe he’ll make it. So he keeps her close now. He’ll be right by her side ‘til the very end, take advantage of every touch and interaction he can. So even if everyone else collapses onto the ground after he uses his extra alice, Mikan will land safely in his arms.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine

Natsume may have spared Nobara earlier, but he still doesn’t really trust her. She’s been acting weird this whole time and he’s suspicious. When they have a moment, he confronts her, warning her that if she sells them out to Persona, he won’t go easy on her. After all, to him, she’s still the girl who’s always been Persona’s little pet.

But Nobara doesn’t want to sell them out. She wants to stop Persona and her DA friends from hurting the cause and themselves. She wants to stop them so they don’t become a part of the fight.

She stands back so she doesn’t teleport again with the rest of them. She wants to do this for Mikan.

Mikan doesn’t understand. She’s concerned that she left Nobara behind, so she says she’ll go back to get her, but Natsume stops her. She needs to allow Nobara to make her own choice. Even if Mikan doesn’t get it, the only thing that matters is their original mission. Nothing will change that. He won’t be strayed from it, no matter what obstacles come their way. Nobara made the choice, and she’s the best person to confront the DA class. The rest of them should allow her to do as she wants.

They move forward, and Natsume keeps back when he feels his coughing fit coming on. Now that everything is dire, he definitely doesn’t want to slow things down by worrying people with his body. He worries that he won’t be able to properly protect Mikan, considering the shape he’s in, but he would never say that out loud.

Death creeps ever closer... Why isn't he ever concerned for himself?

Even more, Nobara stressed before she left that Natsume was the most important person to stay by Mikan's side, that he should protect her to the end. Though he wouldn't be so bold to say that about himself, he wants to stay 'til the end. But the fact that he might die at any moment doesn't reassure him. However, any insecurities or fears he has must stay in his mind. He wants to be strong for Mikan, to accomplish their goal and keep her safe. He’s pushed any and all feelings of his own out the window. All that matters is their goal.

He can die afterwards.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four

Mikan needs to go to her mother. She and Ruka are to teleport to Yuka, since Ruka has the barrier alice and he can keep her safe. The rest of them are going to hold off the Fuukitai and other enemies. There’s really no time for heartfelt goodbyes. Natsume might never see Mikan again, but he turns away because there’s no time for anything else. He will fight off the enemies to keep her safe. That’s what he can do. Anything else will just waste precious time.

Except that Mikan has the telepathy alice now. She’s mostly kept it a secret, sharing it with Hotaru and nobody else.

Natsume can stay silent all he wants, but his heart and mind are racing with thoughts and feelings. She couldn’t ignore it if she wanted to. It’s not the time to be lollygagging. She has to get going, and everyone is urging her to move on and teleport with Ruka, but she’s hesitating.

And then Natsume hears it too. She’s saying it back, telepathically, that she loves him too.

Terrible timing, Mikan. You had all night to say it back! (joking)

It’s all he’s never allowed himself to want to hear. Something that would only happen in a delusional fantasy world. Mikan may care about him, to some degree, but he’d never expected she would love him back. She should love Ruka, who is kind and polite, or literally anybody else. He’s always had to push her away, and even if she saw through his insults to see what he really meant, he still wouldn’t be good enough. He can’t be with her, because his life is running out. He shouldn’t be with her, because all he will do is cause her more pain. He’ll never be with her, because he doesn’t deserve to be. He won’t be with her, because she’s running away with her mother and he’ll never see her again.

But she loves him too anyway.

Despite every insult and attempt to keep his distance. Despite their beginnings of mutual disdain. Despite how he’s said he hated everything about her, about how he wanted her out of his sight. Despite acting like she was a pest and nothing more than an annoyance. Despite everything he did, she somehow still loves him.

It’s the worst thing to ever happen to him, to stand there and hear her saying that in his mind and then watch her disappear forever.

He’s said it out loud only one time. He confessed with his kiss at Christmas, with his alice stone, with the borrowing race, with his speech to the ESP. He’s confessed with every time he got in front of her to protect her, with every cruel word forced out of him by the higher ups, with every smile he had just for her.

Now she finally said it back and it’s too late for anything. He can’t kiss her and show her how much he means it, how much it isn’t just hype over nothing. He can’t tell her he loves her to her face and with his whole chest. He can’t take her by the hand and run away with her. He can’t live happily ever after with her.

That was all okay before, when it was just him who was suffering. So his life would be lonely and short. Okay. Who cares? But now he knows she wants all that too.

He’s miserable. He calls out to her but it’s too late. She’s gone now and all he can do is fight the enemies who want to threaten her security.

Natsume has been left behind with Tono and Tsubasa to fight as hard as they can against the Fuukitai. When they finally get away for a moment, Tono tells them to fight for the girls they love. Tsubasa and Natsume both berate him for this, because who was he talking about? Tono argues it wasn’t about him; he was just trying to cheer the two up after they had to break apart from their girls.

Natsume is clearly in emotional turmoil, but he frequently is, so he doesn’t let it show a lot. He may threaten Tono with his alice or tease him with Tsubasa like all is normal, but it’s not. His current circumstances couldn’t be any worse unless Mikan were in danger, and he’s doing everything he can to keep that from happening.

Tono finally admits that he’s been nervous this whole time because Noda is probably the traitor among them, but Natsume realizes the truth: It’s Goshima.

Tsubasa and Tono are going to try and find Goshima, who has the key Yuka and Mikan need to escape. They also need someone to go and tell them that Goshima can’t be trusted, and Tono wants Natsume to do it.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five

Tono is urging Natsume to go and tell Mikan about Goshima, to go protect her. Naturally, he doesn’t hesitate before taking off. Any excuse to see her again and keep her safe is enough for him.

Tsubasa doesn’t understand why Tono sent him off, though, since Natsume is in such bad shape. Having him run and exert himself further seems wrong.

I just want him to be happy. Is that really so much to ask?

Tono puts it all into perspective. It had to be Natsume. The kid was in a state of absolute misery, even knowing his love is requited and perhaps because of it. He can never see Mikan again. His life will end. The rest of them can talk about decades and decades into the future and still be sure that they will meet Mikan again, but it’s clear that Natsume won’t make it that far. As Tono puts it, it’s important that Natsume has a chance to see her for the last time, to say good-bye properly.

Natsume would go to her no matter what, too, and he does, running with all his might to find her, even though he’s coughing and his body is breaking.

He will use his alice and do anything he can to find her and tell her and keep her safe, and they finally meet again.

He’s standing over the bodies of enemies that he’s just defeated for her, and he finally has a chance to say the good-bye he thought he’d never get.

There are other things that need to be said, but he might not have a chance to say his feelings again if he doesn’t take the opportunity now. He’s sad, because no matter what, their story will end soon. But this is more than he could’ve asked for.

But all of the words that should come out of his mouth don’t. He doesn’t talk about the traitor. He doesn’t tell her he loves her to her face. He doesn’t say anything except her name. None of the feelings he has can be put into words. For the moment he’s speechless.

She is too. She rushes into his arms and they share a quick second of holding each other before they inevitably part forever. The fact that she hugs him might have reminded him that she loves him too. Then again, how could he forget? Either way, he finds the words that were lost to him before.

He’s going to stay with her until the very last second. He won’t leave her or part from her for even a moment again until they have to say good-bye for good.

No, they won't last. She'll leave and he'll die, but they have this moment, even if it's the only thing they'll ever have.

No, he doesn’t mention the traitor even though he was sent to. Natsume very rarely talks about his feelings, but they felt so important this time that he had to say them out loud.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

Even though Natsume didn’t say it to Mikan, Shiki got the information from him via telepathy and then conveyed the information to Yuka.

Now that Yuka and Mikan are reunited, they can all go to see them off, fighting Fuukitai and Luna along the way. Narumi and Mikan are trapped in an enemy’s ice alice for a moment, until Natsume melts the ice and takes Mikan’s hand. He wasn’t joking about staying by her side until the very end.

Until the very last moment.

Sure, she needed to reunite with her mother and Narumi, but they’ll be spending forever with her after this night. He only has these next few minutes. He’ll be the one to take her by the hand until he has no choice but to let go. Until then, he will stay by her side.

Lucky for them, Yuka’s plan to wait until the last moment for the key so they can leave with Naru panned out. “Tsubasa” arrives with the key and hands it off. There’s no time to waste; Yuka rushes to open the warp-hole but all that comes from it is an explosion.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

Yuka and Narumi were caught in the blast. Yuka shielded Narumi with her body and took the brunt of the hit. She’s now in critical condition.

No hesitation. That's his only keepsake from his mother, his only reprieve from endless pain, but he'll give it Yuka because he can't not give it to her.

Natsume doesn’t hesitate, and he gives Mikan the healing alice stone that his mother got from Yuka. Yuka is Mikan’s mother. Her death would be crushing for Mikan, who’s already had to face so much trauma from watching her father die too. This all was about getting Mikan and Yuka out safely, and all that effort would be in vain if Yuka dies. And after Natsume has seen everything that happened in the past, he respects Yuka too. All Yuka has ever done is suffer, just like he has. To simply die after all that--he doesn’t want that either. Yuka gave his mother that alice stone, something that brought him a little reprieve whenever he had a coughing fit or felt ill. The least he can do now is give it back.

But it doesn’t work. It’s not enough. Yuka has enough time before her death to hug Mikan and apologize to Luna, but then her heart stops.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

The ESP arrives to break the period of mourning. Luna can’t believe that he would orchestrate this, but it’s not much of a surprise to anyone else. The “Tsubasa” decoy reveals himself to be Goshima, who holds Mikan by the wrists. The ESP only needed one person with the stealing alice. Yuka had become extendable, so he eliminated her.

Goshima goes to surrender Mikan to the ESP, but she fights, and Natsume moves to fight too, because that’s his girlfriend and he promised he would keep her safe. But the ESP always has the barrier alice cast on him, always protected, even from Natsume’s strong alice. Even Natsume can’t help Mikan now.

But Shiki breaks the ESP’s barrier and Mikan rushes to her friends’ side.

Z is invading the school and threatening to take the students captive. The MSP needs her successor, Shiki to be appointed so that he can protect the school with his barrier alice. The ESP is in a bind. Shiki can either run away with Mikan as Yuka had intended to, or he will agree to stay and act as the MSP to protect the school.

Conclusion

God this arc is a mess when all you want are the NM moments. How dare they be so scattered! Anyways, Natsume now knows that Mikan loves him too, romantically, but everything has been upside down for a while, specifically tonight, so the future doesn't look bright. In the next part, we'll talk about how Natsume feels about being separated from Mikan when she's locked away.

Sorry this is late. I'm not in a fantastic mood today which affected my motivation. I shoved a bunch of content in here and it might be too much. I don't know. There wasn't a clear way I could cut it into multiple parts without them being choppy and short as hell. I just wanted to get to the next part because this arc was stressing me out.

In any case, I feel like crap right now emotionally, because this day was very draining. I'll try to post tomorrow at a reasonable time. Thank you for reading.

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#gakuen alice #alice academy #hyuuga natsume #natsume hyuuga #natsumikan #sakura mikan #mikan sakura #my meta #ga #mine #ga meta #ga meta: nm #ga meta: manga #ga meta: manga nm #let's talk about natsumikan #let's talk about natsumikan: natsume #run by snow patrol for ur natsumikan song needs #for the last little while its been hard to motivate myself to do this essay when i feel so horrible #i want to NOT feel like this and focus on natsumikan bc they make me so happy but its been really hard #please have patience with me #bully @thesightofworms into paying more attention to me and my mood will improve. this is all her fault for abandoning me #none of this is nm related im sorry for venting here #please have a nice happy day #sry if theres issues here #sorry if it seems rushed. tbh the editing and formatting WAS bc i wanted to post and i felt Bad.#i dont think ill be fixing anything too major so apologies in advance

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wenellyb · 3 years ago

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hey! every now and then i've seen random posts about sebastian's comment/s on colin kap kneeling among other things, but i've never seen any source material or hard facts. do you have any posts about this or deconstruction of your own? i'd be very interested, ty!

Hey yourself😉!

So I've found the screenshot of the post (at the bottom) and just so you know he also posted an apolology but that one I couldn't find a screenshot of.

There are plenty of posts talking about this but I think most of them are old so it would take some time for me to find them.

If you want my opinion. The whole thing was f*cked up and I remember being extremely surprised and unfollowing him after that post.

And he did apologize, which is good and I do think he understands that that post was not great, but it wasn't my main issue.

When the whole story with Kaepernick happened it was a real eye opener and exposed a lot of racists even among celebrities. I'm looking at you Christopher Meloni. But not only him.

So Colin Kaepernick was to kneeling to protest against police violence and racism.

And a lot of people reacted like a lot of White people react when the topic of racism arise: deny everything and get defensive "How dare he protest blablabala" "He's so rich and he's saying White people are priviledged..." "How dare he say there is racism in this country". You know the usual.

But the thing is to me, the way he protested was the most respectful, and most peaceful way to protest and also so impactful. And some people had still a problem with it...I don't understand how ANYBODY could have a problem with it ... unless they were racist in one way or the other. That was the bar for me... I could not have respect ANYBODY who had a problem with him kneeling, because their message was clear “just sh*t up and play football”.

To me, anybody who had a problem with Colin Kaepernick taking a knee... was automatically problematic and the worst.

For other forms of protests there can always be arguments against it, lousy arguments, but arguements nevertheless: "They're blocking the streets" "There was violence during the protest",... etc... But what is your argument with having a man kneel during the National Anthem, to call out something as serious as police brutality.

To me it was clear that they just wanted Black Americans to shut up, and stay in their lane. "Sports have nothing to do with politics blablabla"

And unfortunately history proved Colin Kaepernick right, and I don't think anybody could voice bad opinions about him today, but at the time, a lot of people were criticizing him, calling him names, insulting him, and even some celebrities were talking about how disrespectful he was.

They cared more about the way he was voicing his protest, than the fact that racism was a real issue.

And because of the protests last year, I think a lot of people tend to forget about that time, but Kaepernick faced A LOT of backlash, A LOT and for what....??? Absolutely no justification. With the way some people reacted you would have thought he burned the American flag on a daily basis, or used it as toilet paper.

So having that in mind, it was really disheartening to see an actor you respect take part in that...

And just to be clear, this is my personal opinion, but I don't think Sebastian had any bad intention with that post (not like other celebrities who were outright criticizing Kaepernick, for some reason I only remember Chris Meloni lol). But the timing, and the content, even as a joke, even as a promotion tool for his movie was extremely bad. You also have to understand the context, and how there were a lot of people rooting against Kap.

Worst case scenerio Seb’s post was racist and best case scenario it was tone deaf.

I can only assume Sebastian watches the news in the US, so he must have known what the caption "take a knee" meant and still decided to post it... So maybe he wasn't ill-intentioned, but to him the topic was light enough that he could post it on his social media...

My main problem isn't even with Seb's post, it was a weird way to promote his movie, or a joke I don’t know. Artists do problematic stuff all the time, and it's up to the fans who support them to decide if they keep doing supporting him or not.

My main problem was and still is the reaction of the fandom, where White Seb stans think they know and understand racism better than anyone else. And honestly this is not me saying that Seb is racist, this is me saying that we should be allowed to voiced our opinions without being silenced or accused of trying to villainize him or cancel him blablabla .

But the Seb stans don't understand that and prefer to turn a blind eye.

I make difference between stans and fans. The Seb fans are the ones who are willing to listen, understand why some people might be offended and admit that their fav f*cked up. The stans are the annoying ones who yould rather keep their head in the sand.

And nobody is even asking to stop supporting Seb... If I cancel an actor, I will stop consuming his content, supporting him, paying to see his movies etc... But I'm not forcing anybody else to do it... But I would like to be free to voice my dislikes especially if that actor was being problematic... without the stans complaining about how "I don't know their fave"

I haven't cancelled Seb btw, I just don't feel like finding him excuses and glossing over the words and if I think that something he did was racist, I will say that it was racist, not "problematic" or "tactless" or "clumsy"...

I think that a lot of people are confused about what racism is, and think it is only White Supremacists who want to harm all non White people.

But it's not only that and in my opinion, there are many layers to racism. If you have "nothing against Blacl people" but there is a part of you that believes you or White people are better than Black people, well you are racist... If not hiw would you describe it? I have already told this story, but I have a friend who swore she wasn't racist and we even had a big debate about racism, and a few weeks later, her boyfriend told me that during a family dinner, she had talked about a common Black friend of theirs saying "She is pretty for a Black girl"... But if you ask my friend, she will say she isn't racist.

If you try to silence people calling out racism, you are contributing to it instead of fighting it.

Another example, I received a lot of "problematic" comments at work from coworkers on my hair, my origins etc, but when I talked about it to my friends and said those comments were racists.. they said that I was "overeacting" that those comments were harmless or just my colleagues being "ignorant". But one time, I was done with it and I wrote to HR about it losting all the comments I had received and the HR director called me and told me that those comments were racist full stop, he didn't try to minimize it or act like I was exagerrating.

And that's how I see the reactions of Seb stans whenever something from him re-sufaces, like my friends who just act like it is nothing.

Just so you know you are not helping when you do that.

They act as if we're suppoosed to accept that because "it's not that big of a deal". Who told you that? How do you determine what is a big deal or not? Especially when you have never dealt with racism?

Fandom behaves as if people who were hurt or offended by that post were overracting. "It was a joke" "It was a long time ago" "He would never do somthing racist"

How hard is it to say " I can see that my fave did something problematic, or that what he did was racist, and I would still like to support him but I understand that people were hirt"??? How hard is it to continue to stan your fave WITHOUT trying to silence people who call out the behavior.

And also the way they refuse to use the words is annoying... it's always "I'm sorry if anybody was offended", never "What I did/wrote was racist and I know better now". If no one wants to admit it when they do racist stuff... nobody will never get anywhere... Like my friend who is convinced that she isn't racist but goes around thinking that White Women are more beautiful than Black Women, and even says it when surrounded by her family.

And people act like the people who were hurt have no reason to be hurt because he apologized, but I hope those people realize that it doesn’t work that way. An apology is great of course, but it doesn’t take out the hurt, or the feeling that if he was comfortable enough sharing this on social media, what is he comfortable doing in the safety of his close circle?, or remove the idea that maybe an actor you adored, and respected doesn’t view Black people struggles as a serious matter.

I personally don't hate Seb, far from it. And the reason why I have so many posts about him, calling him out or not, is that he is one of the very few White actors I'm interested in. I don't know him personally, but I enjoy his interviews with Anthony and enjoy his movies. But I'm not about to act like he is perfect like some of his stan do and also I have absolutely no issue with people who have "cancelled" him because of his past behavior, because I understand them and it's their choice, it's what works best for them... I don't want to force them to root for someone who maybe wouldn't root for us.

Last point, that I won't elaborate because I have already written way to much. There's a difference between people actively trying to be racist, and people who are racist and maybe don't realize it, or people who have prejudice but are working on it...

I hate it when White people act like the worst thing in the world is being accused of racism when the actual worst thing in the world is being racist. Because it shifts the conversation from... "Oh how can I improve myself and stop this racist thing I'm doing, or how can I work on this prejudice I have?" to "How dare you call me racist!!! I would never" all the while they continue doing the racist thing they do.

TL:DR: His Instagram post was f*cked up, and he apologized. And it's up to each person to decide if they still want to support him or not, but it would be great if thise who still support him stopped pretending that those whose don't are overreacting or had no reason of being offended.

#sebastian stan #asks #anti christopher meloni #I wrote too much ... I'll finish later lol #long post #I need to stop making long posts #at some point #I just have to stop wrtining #Also a lot of people think that I hate Seb because I call him out a lot.... But he's actually one of the few White actors I consider....#All of the other ones mean literally nothing to me #.... They don't even exist outside of the movies they play in

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 1/57, 97.7k words

I was like “hey brain I’d love to do a shitpost social media au” and then it was like r e w r i t e m i r a c u l o u s

I don’t even know if it really even counts as miraculous anymore so much has changed god damn it --

Rena Rouge had never been so excited for anything in her life.

Of course, at first glance people would find that insane. She was going to a meeting, after all.

But it was the people that were also attending that had her practically vibrating she was so excited.

All the heroes of Paris were to be gathered under Master Fu’s orders. They hardly ever worked together, so having all four (five, including her, she reminded herself) together was pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime event. She wished she was still a reporter, this was the kind of thing she would have killed to report on back in the day…

Still, a part of her had to wonder why exactly they were all there. Master Fu had been vague when he’d called. She had some theories, of course, but all this waiting was starting to shift her excitement into nerves. She attempted to smooth out her tail, but ended up just tucking it under herself to hide her anxiety. Maybe she shouldn’t have come so early.

The first person to show up after her was Carapace. He’d poked his head through the door, the hood of his sleeveless hoodie pulled so low over his face that it partially hid his face. Then he broke into a wide smile and pushed the hood up a little to show the green glint of his mask. He made his way inside and took a seat next to her.

“Salu -- Bonjour!” His confident smile melted into an uncomfortable one. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Salut,” she said, not wanting him to feel awkward.

Besides, that was kind of his whole shtick. Carapace was the relatable hero, the one you could vent about your problems to.

(Well, technically you could vent to all of Paris’s heroes, they didn’t mind… but Carapace was the only one that felt close enough to actually try it with.)

Silence lapsed between them as they sat there. She tried to remember whether she had met him as Rena Rouge or not and he seemed unsure whether she wanted to talk, but they were distracted from their thoughts when Chloe walked into the room.

Chloe just kind of… does that. If Carapace was the personable one, Chloe was the one who felt the most unreachable. She was open about her persona, had to be after everyone found out about it, and exactly how relatable can a mayor’s daughter be? She’d leaned into it, though, opting for golden jewelry and wings that glinted in the light.

Neither of the present heroes said anything to Chloe, and Chloe didn’t acknowledge them.

Was it rude? Technically. But what else were they supposed to do? Chloe had made it clear a week ago that she didn’t like them. There’s no good conversation that can come after you get shit-talked on live tv.

The last person to be on time was Chat Noir. The original hero. He gave them a smile worthy of a model as he slipped inside. “Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” said Rena and Carapace, and even Chloe gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

The leather of his black suit made a high-pitched squeaking sound against the chair when he sat down that made both him and Rena’s hair stand on end (literally).

Master Fu walked in to find Carapace trying to soothe two very frazzled miraculous holders and Chloe ignoring them on her phone.

He sighed and gently rapped his cane on the ground.

Instantly, the room quieted. Chat and Rena snapped out of their shock.

“Bonjour,” chorused everyone.

He smiled tensely. “Bonjour. Where’s Ladybug?”

“Not here yet,” said Chloe. She set her phone down on the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing in the papers, either.”

Master Fu nodded a little bit and took a seat at the head of the table. “We can wait for her. There’s no rush.”

Carapace hesitated before raising his hand. “There’s… a bit of a rush. I was procrastinating a college app and it’s due tonight…”

“It shouldn’t be long,” said Master Fu.

This was true. About five minutes later Ladybug burst into the room, panting softly. “Bon… jour...”

“Thanks for finally showing up,” said Chloe.

No one knew for sure, because Ladybug’s eyes were completely white, but they got the feeling that she was rolling her eyes.

“There was an akuma.”

“Really? There was nothing on the news…” said Rena, genuinely confused, but she trailed off when she realized that maybe getting one of your childhood heroes in trouble was a bad idea if you wanted to have a good relationship with said childhood hero.

Thankfully, Ladybug didn’t seem all that annoyed. “That’s because the news anchor and her crew got swallowed by it before they could get any information out. Anyways, it’s dealt with.”

With that, Ladybug took a seat in the last open chair. There was a beat as she smoothed out the red and black folds of her dress and then she crossed her legs and smiled at everyone.

Master Fu sighed and shook his head, slowly placing his cane in his lap.

“Now that everyone is here, would anyone like to guess why?”

The heroes of Paris stiffened a little bit. That sounded a lot like they were in trouble. They didn’t want to be in trouble.

Rena slowly raised her hand. “Is it… because of what Queen Bee said last week?”

The heroes’ expressions soured a bit at the memory. The video of Chloe trash talking all of them to an interviewer had blown up, and now they could hardly do anything without having at least one reporter hounding them for a response.

None of them could give any, though Rena was sure at least some of them were tempted. The public was supposed to think them all friends, or at worst friendly coworkers. It gave them hope, seeing them all working together for team ups, and analyzing their friendship dynamics kept them relatively distracted from the fact that it had been six years since the first hero had first arrived on the scene and they still had virtually nothing on Hawkmoth.

But now that illusion had been shattered (and trust her, she knew a lot about illusions). Akumas had been more active this week.

“That’s precisely it. Thank you, Rena.” Master Fu regarded them all carefully. “What do you think we should do about it?”

Really, they’d had no clue what to do about their image.

Chloe hadn’t been joking, she’d made that plainly obvious, so saying she didn’t mean it or that was just the type of friendship they had wasn’t going to work…

“Act more like friends…?” Said Ladybug when no one spoke up.

Master Fu nodded.

“Oh, so more team ups or something?” Said Chat.

Carapace shrugged. “Don’t know how much of that I can do, since I’m the only one that can consistently get in the water, but…” He shrugged again. “... sure, I can do that.”

The old man drummed his fingers on the table lightly to bring their attention back to him.

“Yes, that, too, but I was thinking something more… convincing.”

Rena decided that she definitely didn’t like the way his eyes gleamed.

“So, until you manage to defeat Hawkmoth, you will all be living together.”

Everyone opened their mouths to argue but he held up a hand to silence them.

“And you’ll be doing it publicly, posting regular content about it to a social media platform of your choosing…” He put his hand down. “Now you can complain.”

The teens all immediately started attempting to talk over each other, their voices steadily increasing in volume as they tried to be the one to get their complaints heard.

Rena was silent. Part of her thought that she should be complaining. She had siblings, after all, she had a life outside of heroism… but she couldn’t help but smile. She would be living with her childhood heroes (for a long time, probably, because the Hawkmoth situation was not getting better)! And, really, her sisters could get annoying at times. She’d love an excuse to get away.

So instead of arguing she leaned back in her chair and watched everyone else.

Chloe was the most passionate about it, her jewelry flashing with every wild swing of her hand. Her voice was the loudest, but with the other voices in the room and the fact that she was literally buzzing in her anger it was hard to make out what she was saying.

Chat seemed distressed and Rena could see his mouth saying “I don’t think I’d be allowed to” repeatedly even if she couldn’t hear him over Chloe’s screeching.

Carapace’s face was set in an uncharacteristic frown as he complained. Sure, of those voicing their complaints, he definitely seemed the most relaxed, but the fact that he was frowning was in itself proof of just how upset he really was.

Ladybug was quiet, though she didn’t look particularly happy about it. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as if she was holding herself back from yelling as well and her fingers worried at the hem of her dress.

After a minute of this, Master Fu raised his hands for silence and instantly got it once again.

“Are you done?”

The general consensus was ‘no’, if the looks on their faces meant anything, but they nodded anyways.

“Good. Chat Noir, I’ve already worked everything out with your dad, we’ll discuss it more after the meeting is over.”

Chat relaxed a bit.

“Carapace, your schooling will not be affected. In fact, you’ll likely have a better college experience since all your food and toiletries will be paid for by me.”

Carapace’s expression shifted to a thoughtful one as he considered this.

“Queen Bee, must I remind you of the fact that you’re on thin ice as it is?”

Everyone’s eyes shot to Chloe, who had paled considerably. Her angry buzzing quickly lowered to a dull hum and she settled back into her seat.

Master Fu seemed sated by this, and he looked at Ladybug and Rena.

“And I’m assuming I don’t need to convince either of you?”

Rena shook her head instantly. Ladybug took her time to consider, but eventually shook her head as well.

“Great. Now, shall we talk logistics?”

~~~

Taglist:

@nathleigh @mialuvscats

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wasabito · 4 years ago

Text

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true.

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer.

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once.

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance.

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture.

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment.

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly.

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too.

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit.

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up.

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!"

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?"

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #satori tendou #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #sabi.writes

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

i don’t know if you take meet ugly requests outside of the list, but if you do, I’m always a sucker for stern finding out barclay is bigfoot in a different way (wink wink nudge nudge they are having sex and the bracelet comes off)? no problem if not though :)

Sure thing! Here you go. I believe the joke about "bigfoot hunting" came from @bellafarallones originally. I set this in the 70s, just for fun.

The irony of his worst-case scenario being everyone else’s euphemism for a good time is not lost on Barclay.

He’s not even sure when “bigfoot hunting” became code for “get down in the woods” in Kepler’s little gay community. He just knows that, until someone cleared it up for him, he was panicking from all the guys saying they and their friend ought to go looking for him.

Now he’s in the wildest situation imaginable: considering asking someone to go bigfoot hunting with him.

It’s not his fault the stone fox that is Joseph Stern decided to stay at Amnesty Lodge. Ned and Aubrey even tried to talk him out of it (for the very good reason that the fewer out of towners hanging around a space crawling with cryptids, the better) but the guy wasn’t interested in the other digs in town. In his more confident moments, Barclay likes to think seeing him behind the lunch counter is what swayed his decision.

It’s not a totally bogus conclusion; Joseph sends more than just meal times in Barclay’s restaurant and, increasingly, his kitchen. He does crossword puzzles over coffee, asking Barclay for help and criticizing the clues (Barclay has to agree with him, whoever is writing the crossword in the Kepler Gazette is really reaching lately). He stops by and reads at his table or the counter during lunch. And in the evenings he sticks around after closing, keeping Barclay company as he wipes down tables and sets up the chairs. Lately, he even helps him close up.

The encroaching summer is making it worse. Joseph, stylish as he is, favors this year’s trend of shorts that are shorter than most of Barclay’s boxers. Combine that with his always slicked-back black hair and sharp, blue eyes and Barclay is getting really, really good at keeping something in front of his crotch at all times.

For the first two months, he thought his crush on Joseph was as hopeless as cooking a souffle in a hurricane. Then the songs started.

They’d been talking about music, Joseph paying close attention whenever Barclay mentioned a band or song he dug. Barclay didn’t think much of the concentration in his eyes until that night, when the jukebox near the counter started wailing out Gladys Knight. No one ever picks that, he just put it in there so he can listen to it before they open.

When he’d poked his head out of the pass-through, Joseph winked at him from his usual seat.

Since then, he and Joseph trade songs back and forth, Barclay slipping his coins in when he goes out to drop an order on the counter. The longer they do it, the more the titles seem to convey messages, meaning Joseph’s favoring of “Let’s Get it On” this past week is driving Barclay to distraction.

This afternoon, he’s sweeping up the floor when the other man walks in, sweat running down his forehead and hiking boots on his feet.

“I saw you’re closed the next two days.” He tips his head at the sign Barclay posted on the door.

“Yeah, getting new cooktop and doing some repairs on the ceiling. Not great for business this weekend, but I’m looking forward to having a stove that doesn’t have cold spots in random places.”

“Are you, um, doing anything on your days off?”

“Nothing big. You, uh, you wanna hit the town?” He grins to hide his hopes.

“We could. But I was thinking, you know the forest pretty well and I could use a second set of eyes and, well...do you want to go bigfoot hunting tomorrow?”

Barclay directs just enough focus from keeping his hands from snapping the metal handle to his mouth to say, “sure thing.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“According to the map Ranger Newton gave me, this spot is still within bounds for camping with the permit I have.” Joseph studies the treetops, the brush, their proximity to the river and his second map, the one with all his notes. Yes, this is the optimal spot for a stakeout.

“Sweet.” Barclay opens the trunk, “I’ll get the tent set up.”

They have plenty of daylight left, but it won’t hurt to have camp all ready to go before they set off; if all goes well, they may not be back until after dark, and he’s pitched enough tents in the pitch black for one lifetime.

He secures their food and builds a rudimentary fire pit, then grabs his sleeping bag to toss into the erected tent. Barclay is still inside, straightening out his sleeping bag and adjusting the pillow. Joseph kicks off his shoes and zips the mesh door to keep out the bugs; cicadas are harmless but that doesn’t mean he has to like the idea of one crawling on him in his sleep.

“How’s it look?” Barclay watches him intently as he unrolls the sleeping bag.

“Perfect. Nice and cozy.”

A happy growl from beside him, then a big hand closing around his wrist and pulling him atop the cook.

“Good” Barclay looks up at him, licking his lips, “didn’t wanna waste any time.”

Lord, his chest is broad from this angle. Joseph’s professionalism is all that stands between him and spending the rest of the day leaving hickeys on it.

“Barclay, I’m not opposed to this, but we should do what we came here first.”

“...Is this not why you wanted to come here?”

“I thought I was pretty clear about coming to look for bigfoot. Why do you think I brought the binoculars? And the headlamps?”

Beautiful, brown eyes blink up at him. Then, Barclay chuckles, “Think I see what’s up. Around here you, uh, you ask someone on a ‘bigfoot hunt’ if you’re looking to score. No idea why, but it’s so common it didn’t even occur to me that you’d mean something else.”

He snickers, “Almost sounds like something I’d come up with on my own. But no, we’re spending today walking that creekbed.” Curious, he wiggles his hips as he leans down to whisper, “then we can spend tonight like this.”

Barclay whines, settling his hands politely on Joseph’s ass.

“You’ve wanted this awhile, haven’t you big guy?”

“Uh huh, Joseph, baby, the things you do to me, woulda let you fuck me over a hot stove if it meant you’d touch me-” His eyes are huge, pupils blown out in black pools of promise.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal; I’ll let you ask for one thing now. Everything else has to wait until we’re done with work for the day.”

“Yes, yes, deal, I, I wanna” Barclay closes his eyes, inhaling long and deep through his nose, “fuuuuck, I wanna suck your dick. Can I? Please?”

Joseph hesitates; no one ever asks for that, and by the time his pants are off they’re too horny to complain at his dick and just go for whatever hole they were planning on fucking in the first place.

“I, um, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re picturing.” He sits up, heart pounding at his chest to tell him he’s blown it.

Barclay shakes his head, “I promise I know what I’m getting, been thinking about it all day, fuck, been driving me crazy.” His shorts hit his knees, Barclay thumbing the crease of his thighs with a moan, “yeah, fuck, c’mere.”

He makes a noise that would, in any other context, embarrass him as Barclay manhandles him far enough forward to sit on his face. But this is Barclay, sweet and gentle and so hot he’s amazed he’s not getting second degree burns. The burn he is getting just makes him laugh, Barclay’s short, auburn beard scratching the inside of his thighs.

“Shit, Barclay, shit, try, try a little lower? Ohhhhhfuck.” A crinkle of fabric as he grips the tent floor, Barclay is making sounds unlike any partner he’s ever had, grunting and moaning as forces more of him against his mouth. It’s all hot breath and grazing teeth and need, something Joseph is seldom the target of. He closes his eyes, let’s himself relax into a slow, steady roll of his hips against Barclay’s mouth.

There’s a rhythmic, frantic whss of fabric behind him, moaning from beneath. He flicks sweat from his eyes as he glances over his shoulder; Barclay isn’t even bothering to get his shorts off, is jerking his impressive cock as his lips close around Joseph’s own.

“Did, did you get that hard just from this?”

“Mmmhmm” Barclay looks up with wild, delighted eyes.

“Christ” he giggles, runs a hand through his hair as his orgasm circles closer, “didn’t think my dick being wet would be all it took.”

“Mmmph!” There’s a jolt of movement that signals Barclay cumming, a groaning growl buzzing up his dick just long enough to set his nerves dancing and draw his orgasm over the brink.

His words are gone, stay that way as Barclay eases him backwards and scoots so he can sit up. All he wants to do is hunker down in this tent and go at it until they pass out.

“Joseph? Baby, are you okay?”

“I’m incredible.”

“I’ll say” Barclay pulls him into his arms, “guess we oughta get clean and get a move on, huh.”

“As much as I hate to say it, yes. I really can’t waste this chance.”

Barclay pecks his lips, “Okay. Uh, can I borrow some shorts? I only brought one other pair.”

Twenty minutes later, Joseph is learning just how distracting another human being can be when your clothes are stretched around their thick thighs and they’ve taken their shirt off to combat the heat. Lord, if he were not on a mission he’d fuck Barclay’s imprint into the shore.

Speaking of his mission, while they don’t find bigfoot, Joseph does find some promising footprints and some fur he can’t identify. By the time they trek back to camp, their dinner is well-deserved and very appreciated. When Barclay asks if he wants dessert, Joseph simply grins.

“Not out here I don’t.”

They take only the needed time to get food out of bear range before clambering into the tent, Joseph opting to switch on the battery powered lantern as Barclay tosses his clothes away. He let’s the cook guide his shirt off, revels in the way his eyes roam over him like he’s seeing the Sistine Chapel. He lowers his head, zig-zagging kisses down his neck and chest.

“Should I avoid these?” Barclay’s mouth hovers over the scar on his left side. They’re only a year old, look newer, and something eager and hopeful peers out from Joseph’s heart at Barclay’s consideration of them.

“No, they don’t hurt. They don’t really feel like much.”

Barclay places a kiss on each, continues his descent until he’s at Joseph’s hips, nosing just above his pubic hair with happy sighs.

“I really, really wanna fuck you.”

“Condoms are in my bag, the side pouch.”

“Okay if it’s here?” He lightly teases a thumb below Joseph’s dick.

“Shit, yes” he bucks his hips, “I repeat: Condoms are in my bag and if you don’t get them now I’ll just fuck myself instead.”

“Heh, someone gets demanding when he’s raring to go.” He kisses his hip before rolling and crawling to grab the condom. When he rolls it down, Joseph sees his dick is an unremarkable length but thick enough that he spreads his legs a little wider as Barclay crawls between them.

“Fuck” Barclay groans as he pushes in, Joseph hooking his legs around him as he slowly thrusts, “fuck, baby, that good?”

“Better than, jesus Barclay you should sell rides on this thing, you’d make a million.”

“Don’t want a million, just want you.”

Joseph blushes, moans when he finds opening his legs doesn’t diminish how stuffed he feels.

“You like being full, blue eyes?”

“Yes, AHhhhn, that’s it big guy, show me how you like it.” He pulls Barclay down for a kiss as his hips speed up, arches his back as strong arms wrap around him. It’s bliss, heaven in the summer heat, and he closes his eyes to better enjoy it, smiling as Barclay comes in for another kiss, growling until Joseph parts his lips and let’s his tongue slip between them.

Something scratches his back, probably just an odd angle of the sleeping bag. Then whatever it is catches between him and the ground and his whole world changes. The cock inside him thickens and lengthens, the skin pressed to his sprouts fur, and teeth his tongue brushes against are sharp.

“Shit!” He yelps at the same time Barclay freezes with a quiet, “fuck.”

“Explain. Now” Joseph orders as Barclay sits up slightly.

“I’m, uh, I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, one of them. But, uh, maybe that was obvious?”

“Not until this moment, no.” He suspects the same surprise that keeps him from pulling back is keeping Barclay from pulling out, a fact that is rapidly becoming an issue thanks to his body's enjoyment of the thought of being a monster's plaything.

“I’m, I’m so sorry Joseph, I never wanted you to find out this way, fuck, I shoulda known that bracelet was wearing out. I, uh, I guess this trip is a success? Now if anyone asks you can say you found bigfoot? But, uh, please don’t tell anyone it was me?”

He whacks his hands onto his face, “Barclay, I can’t do that. I’m not just looking for you for fun. I’m an undercover agent.”

“A what?” Barclay’s voice climbs an octave.

“An FBI agent!” He whips his hands away, “I’m supposed to find out what happened in a string of disappearances that tack to recent bigfoot sightings, and now I have to go and, and-” he freezes as Barclay starts growling, looming back over him, “and I should have waited until I was safe to tell you thaAAAAAAtAH, fuck, shit, ohlord, ohmygod.” He tears at the tent as Barclay lifts his hips off the ground and hammers into him, “fuck, oh fuck, OhohOHchris!” His feet kick out uselessly as what he thought was the base of Barclay’s cock pushes into him. The stretch is tremendous, the pleasure more so, and the confusion dwarfs them both.

“There” Barclay grits his teeth, “now you can’t go anywhere.”

“What the hell did you do?!” Joseph tries to scramble back only to find he’s stuck.

“Knotted you. Not my best plan but you said you were gonna tell someone!”

“Not right this second!” Joseph notices the grimace on Barclay’s face deepen, “does it hurt you?”

“Negative, just, just trying not to cum because that seems inappropriate right now.”

“How long are we stuck like this?” His curiosity is getting the better of him, just like always.

“Until I...cum enough for it to go down. Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I panicked okay?”

Joseph crosses his arms, “well, since we’re stuck like this, I think you have time to answer some questions.”

Barclay sighs, defeated, “I can’t tell you everything, not tonight. But what I can tell you is that the reason for that pattern is, uh, if a sighting goes to public, or is too easily tracked to a human disguise, the cryptid who got spotted has to change their appearance. Which makes it look like someone disappeared.”

He meets the cooks eyes, studies his face; he doesn’t seem to be lying. In fact, he almost seems relieved.

“It’s so easy to explain in some ways and it opens up so, so many hard things at the same time.”

“Thank you for telling me. Even if it’s the worst possible time and place. I, well, I still have questions but” Joseph sets a hand on the back of Barclay’s neck, “I also want to finish being with my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” It comes out as a yip.

“I’m not leaving Kepler any time soon. And I’m just crazy about you Barclay, bigfoot or no.”

Cautiously, Barclay leans down to kiss him. Joseph runs his fingers along his back, finds the hair softer than anticipated.

“Guess now I can say I smelled how turned on you were when we got here, and how turned on you’ve been all night. Blowing you earlier was fucking incredible because you were just flooding my brain with all these signs that you wanted me. That’s, uh, that’s why the knot happened at all. My body’s found someone it thinks wants me to stay.”

“I do.” Joseph kisses him again, gasps when the cock inside him thrusts gently, “shit, that feels so strange. So perfect.”

Barclay seems to blush under his fur, “Can I go faster? Promise I’ll stop if it hurts too much, just, just wanna make you feel good.”

Claws daintily pet his sides as he nods. Then there’s a deeper growl and he can’t help but scream, rough and sharp, as Barclay fucks into him with shallow jerks of his hips, the swell of the knot managing to press on his dick while the rest of his cock hits spots inside him no partner ever bothered to try and find.

“That’s it baby, lemme hear you, wanna know just how much you like it, fuck, oh fuck, you like being full, blue eyes, then, fuck, lemme fill you. Fuck, Joseph”

“Ohgod” cum pulses into him and he whimpers, desperate for release of his own. Barclay notices, rolls them so Joseph is on top, all his FBI physical training going into maintaining the half-splits needed to straddle him.

“Got at least one more before I can pull out, and I wanna feel you cum.” The pad on one finger finds Joseph’s dick and rubs, “fuuuuuck, fucking-A I almost came again just from you tightening.”

“Barclay, please” he tangles his fingers into the fur of his chest, “please I’m so close.”

“Here, I’ve got an idea” He pulls Joseph so he’s hunched forward, kissing him messily as his claws dig into his hips to bounce him on his cock. Joseph moans, gives up on supporting himself and smiles when Barclay takes his weight without hesitation. He nestles his head under the cryptids chin, burying pleas in his fur as he speeds up. The angle and the force of Barclays movements mean his dick catches on thick fur and the warm belly beneath it, and as his grinds desperately he realizes he’s cumming. Then his cry of pleasure is drowned out by a howlgrowlpurr as Barclay empties into him, the pressure so intense he whimpers, unsure how much more his body will hold. Then the cock inside him slips free, cum spilling down his legs in it’s wake.

“Hrmph” Barclay rumbles, holding him close, “shoulda brought something to keep it in; make you spend all night with my cum in you so no one else gets any ideas.”

Joseph, sleep clinging to most of his brain, looks up, “wait, does that mean there are other bigfoots in the area who might?”

“Uhhhhhhhhh”

Joseph laughs to himself, shaking his head; tonight raises so many questions, dozens of things to investigate, and yet only one query matters to him right now.

“You really want to be my guy?”

A furry hand pets his face and Barclay murmurs, with a sweetness Joseph’s never before heard, “of course, baby.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #taz amnesty #reader requests #terato #monster boyfriend

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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years ago

Text

The Wisdom Teeth Reveal

Alya visits Marinette after she gets her wisdom teeth removed.

Warnings for angst. Angst. ANGST. ANGST.

...No one said the reveal was going to be a good one.

____________________________

It was supposed to be funny.

When Alya had learned Marinette would be getting her wisdom teeth removed, it had sounded like the perfect opportunity for some fun. People under the effects of the medication were usually suggestible and easily fooled. It would make for a hilarious prank. She could record it and share it with Marinette later once she was recovered. They would have a long laugh over it.

People did it all the time. So it was supposed to be okay, right?

Besides, Marinette was a good sport. She never complained about the things Alya posted about her to Instagram, after all. Regardless of what any of those lame self-righteous naysayers claimed. Besides, she gave Marinette permission to do the same to her, so that was fair. Those people didn’t know what they were talking about.

And this would just be another bit of harmless fun to add to the mix.

Oooo! And what if she got video of Marinette confessing her feelings for Adrien! People on the medication were often noted to lack a filter. Maybe she could use this to help her bestie. She could get Marinette to admit her feelings and then show the video to Adrien! It would be perfect!

Alya chuckled to herself as she made her way to Marinette’s room, giving a brief reassurance to Sabine as she told Alya that Marinette was resting and not to bother her too much. Not like recording for prosperity was really anything too strenuous.

Sure enough, when she made it into the room, Marinette was on her bed sleeping. And completely out of it. It wasn’t any trouble getting her to wake up and acknowledge Alya’s presence. No more than it was to have her camera out and at the ready.

“Alya...m’tired.”

“C’mon, Marinette! You need to wake up!”

“I want to sleep.”

“You need to answer a few questions first.”

“But ‘m supposed to rest?”

“Your mom said it was okay.” Well, technically anyway. “Really?”

“Yes. So you have to.”

“Oh. Okay...” Marinette frowned, unhappily but forced herself into a sitting position.

Alya grinned, gleefully.

“So Marinette, what do you think of everyone in our class?”

Marinette smiled. Or at least as much as she could with the gauze. “They’re great. I l’ve ‘em lots.”

“Aww.” Alya cooed. “We love you too, Marinette.”

Marinette looked at Alya in surprise, her eyes welling up with tears. “Really?” She asked. Like this was actually a surprise.

“Of course!”

And...oh. Yeah, she was crying now. And wiping away the tears that kept coming. “I wasn’t sure.” She sobbed. “Cause...cause we’ve all known each other for years but we’ve never been close. I mean, Chloe bullied me all the time and no one ever said anything. They just sorta...let her.” She hiccuped. “This is the first year any of us actually hung out or anything. And everyone has been so nice and I was scared.”

She wiped her nose. “S’why I do so much. And take on all the requests. And became Class Rep. Cause I want them all to like me and ‘m scared they don’t. Or they’ll stop. An...an maybe if I keep doing things for them, they’ll like me.” She looked up at Alya, eyes red and wet. “They love me?”

Alya swallowed. “Y...yeah.”

And Marinette started crying again.

...okay, this was a bit more uncomfortable than she’d been planning on. Time to switch gears.

She had originally planned on a joke about Adrien agreeing to date her, but given how much she was crying and already worked up, Alya reconsidered. She didn’t want to dehydrate the girl, after all.

But she could still help her.

“Hey, Marinette. You love us all, right?”

“Yeah.” Marinette agreed, nodding enthusiastically for a moment before the dizziness set in and she held her head.

Alya grinned. “That’s great! So what do you think of Adrien? You love him, right?”

“Yeah...”

She had to hold back a cackle. “How much do you love him?”

Marinette hummed to herself at that. Her eyes were squinting and her face was scrunched up in thought.

Alya leaned forward eagerly, phone in perfect position to record every word.

“I wish I never met him.”

Alya’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

Marinette sniffled but didn’t answer.

“No. Come on, Mari. I need to know. You love Adrien, don’t you?”

“I do. And I hate it.”

She had stopped crying. Just...stared ahead blankly.

“I’ve...done a lot for him, y’know? I let him think my gift was from his father. I helped him with Kagami. Twice. And I don’t expect that I’m owed anything, because that’s not fair to him. But it’s just...I’ve already done so much but it’s like nothing I do is good enough. I can’t tell him how I feel without something going wrong. And he just...he never sees me. It’s like...maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me we aren’t meant to be.”

She laughed, sadly.

“But what really hurts...is how little I matter to him.”

“What? Marinette, no! Of course you matter to him!” Alya insisted, trying to reassure her.

Marinette shook her head.

“Not as much as Chloe. Not as much as Lila. It’s like...he knows. He knows what they do. An how they treat me. But...I’m still the one in the wrong for being upset about it.”

Alya frowned. “Marinette, what do you mean by that?”

“It’s like...it’s like how Chloe was leaving! She was gonna leave! I was finally free!” Marinette exclaimed, waving her arms excitedly. “Everyone was happy about it! Not just me! But...he got so upset. And...he just...was all ’poor Chloe’. And how can we be happy she was gone? I...wanted to say so much. But it felt wrong. And...did I really have to point out every horrible thing she’s done? How she hurt me an everyone else? It was obvious! But I couldn’t say it because it’d just make him feel bad for defending her. So the best reasoning I had was that she was ‘useless’ like...like that was the real problem and not that she was mean. Or that she made fun of me every day. Or stole my hat design. Or stole my diary. Or ruined my gift. Or blackmailed everyone. But it was like...he just maybe forgot? And he started a guilt trip to make me feel bad for my bully until I had to be the one to admit being wrong.” Marinette sobbed. “He never stood up for me like that. No matter what Chloe did to me.”

Alya bit her lip. Because no, she couldn’t argue that.

“What if we were dating? What would really happen, do you think? Chloe wouldn’t just let it go. Would he defend me? Or would he lecture me again and take her side? I have nightmares where we’re married and she just...keeps crashing our dates. And taking over our house. And taking Adrien away from me. And Adrien just lets her and I can’t say anything because then he’ll be upset with me.”

She leaned her head back, the picture of exhaustion.

“And I’m just so tired. I try, y’know? And no matter what I do, he never sees me. It’s like I’m being punished every time. Punished for trying. Punished for not trying. I’m like...stuck in...in....”

“Limbo?” Alya suggested, weakly.

Marinette nodded. “Yeah! I’m stuck in limbo and I just want out. Just...just let him tell me no so I can move on already. Because...cause this...this hurts.” More tears fell. “This hurts a lot.”

“So you don’t care who Adrien ends up with?” Alya asked.

“I care. I can’t not care. I just...it depends? It’s okay if it’s Kagami because I know she loves him. Cause I still want him to be happy and in a good nice happy relationship and Kagami cares about him and wouldn’t let Chloe take over. Kagami can stand up for herself better than I can. S’why I’m really jealous of her.”

Okay. This was...not what she had been hoping for. But if Marinette was okay with Kagami dating Adrien, then that meant she had no reason to be upset with Lila, right?

Marinette was clearly out of it. But her current state was only one where she lacked a filter. That meant...everything she was saying...

What was that quote? Drunk words are sober thoughts?

“So you’d be okay with Adrien dating someone else?” Alya asked.

“It’d be a relief.” Marinette muttered.

“Even if it was Lila?”

Marinette froze. The tension suddenly skyrocketed.

“Not Lila.” The words were biting despite her voice being muffled and the slurring of her words.

“Why?” Alya demanded angrily. How could she be okay with Kagami of all people but not Lila?

Marinette hummed to herself, seemingly absent-minded. Alya almost wanted to shake her.

And then...

“Lila threatened me.”

Alya froze, nearly losing her grip on the camera. “What?”

“She threatened me. In the restroom. That day she came back.”

Her thoughts were scrambling. Her mind racing to find an explanation.

“Maybe you misunderstood?” Alya suggested. Maybe Lila had been put off by Marinette’s attitude and was just warning her how she could push people away by acting like that? Marinette had been overly harsh on the girl after all.

But Marinette shook her head. “She said she tells people what they want to hear. Called everyone idiots for believing her.” Marinate curled in on herself, drawing her legs to her chest. “And then she said I could either let her or she’d turn everyone against me. Even Adrien. Though maybe I should’ve let her since he knows she’s lying and defends her anyway.”

She burrowed her head into her knees.

“S’why I was upset. Why th’ akuma came.”

Alya’s eyes widened. “Akuma? You were almost akumatized?”

Marinette nodded, still not looking up. “M’hmm. But T’kki talked to me an made me feel better so it went away. Then Lila got ak’matized.”

Who was Turkey supposed to be?

“Wait. Hold on.” Alya cut her off. “Why didn’t you tell me this happened?”

Marinette lifted her head from her knees, looking at Alya blearily. “Y’o didn’t believe me when I told you before though?”

“That was because you didn’t have proof!” Alya replied, defensively. “But you didn’t say she threatened you!”

“I didn’t have proof then either.” Marinette pointed out, strangely logical. She turned her head away to look at a spot on the wall. “But I had the story with Adrien and Ladybug. An’ how I returned Adrien’s missing book.”

“Wait—what?”

“Yeah. Cause Lila stole it. S’how I got it.” Marinette said, pointing a finger at nothing in particular as if emphasizing the point. “She threw it in the trash when Adrien came. And she showed off a necklace...said it was the Fox Miraculous an that she was Volpina. Then Ladybug came and yelled at her for lying. But...” She wilted. “You didn’t believe me. An you didn’t listen to me.”

She looked back to Alya, genuinely sad. “You never listen to me.”

Alya jerked up, taken aback at that. “Of course I do! We’re friends, remember?”

“You sided with Lila right away.” Marinette noted, glumly. “Trusted her over me. Didn’t even ask Adrien about my story just to be sure before deciding Lila was right. Or ask me about Jagged Stone to confirm her ‘kitten on the runway’ story. You knew I returned the book to let Adrien come back but didn’t take my word on where it came from? You knew I helped Adrien on his date with K’gami but still said I was only jealous over Lila because of him? Did you...even consider how that hurt?” She clenched her fists. “That I was blown off? That you didn’t trust me?”

“Well...” Alya hesitated, glancing to the side in uncertainty. “You have done some wild stuff out of jealousy before.”

Marinette blinked, staring at Alya in confusion. “I lied? I tried to hurt people? I lied about people to hurt them?”

“Well—no—I mean...” Because truthfully, Marinette hadn’t. Not intentionally or maliciously. And while there were a number of times she did hurt people’s feelings in her attempts to win Adrien’s heart, she always felt guilty for it and apologized once she realized it. She had often acted without consideration for the effects on other people, but she never acted with intent to cause harm.

She had always tried to make it up to people regardless of whether she was in the wrong. Even Chloe. So it didn’t make sense why she wouldn’t do the same for Lila.

“I know some things went too far.” Marinette admitted. “And I always apologized. But it’s like admitting I was wrong somehow meant I was always wrong. And I just kept apologizing even when it wasn’t my fault because I didn’t know what else to do.”

Marinette picked at a loose thread on her knee.

“My mind blanks and I panic a lot. And I’ve tried to do better but it feels like you don’t help with that and I have to always be the one to make up for it all.”

Wait, now she wasn’t making sense. “Marinette, what are you talking about?”

Marinette tilted her head to the side, taking a moment to think.

“During the modeling attempt with Juleka.” Marinette started, eyes unfocused as she recalled the incident. “I didn’t want Adrien there. You invited him anyway. S’wasn’t a good time. S’wasn’t a good place. But I couldn’t tell him no after he already agreed to you asking. When Juleka was upset, I tried to talk to her. And you...you pushed her out. To put me in. To force me with Adrien. I wasn’t okay with it either. It was distracting. I wanted to focus. I wanted to help Juleka. But you pushed about Adrien and put us on a time limit. We left her behind and she was aku...ak’ma...doll thingy.”

It was cute and silly and in any other situation, Alya would have laughed. But she couldn’t laugh about this.

“And when it was all over, I had to apologize. Even...even though it wasn’t my fault. Cause...cause I tried, at least? And at the end, I was the one left out cause of it. Like...like I had to make up for it all. An...an this seems to happen a lot. I think?”

“Marinette...”

“You push me a lot. I’m not ready. Not okay with it. Tell you no. But suddenly I’m there and he’s there and I feel like I have to do something because you’re watching and I know what’ll happen if I mess up. Then I panic and mess up anyway and you just...the way you look at me.” Tears started to fall again and she clenched her eyes shut. “It hurts. Like you’re disappointed and annoyed but not surprised cause you expected me to fail. But then like...why do you put me there? Why do you keep putting me there if you knew?”

She looked up at Alya.

“Is it...fun to you?”

Alya suddenly felt her mouth go dry. She couldn’t speak.

“Like...the instagram pic-tures. You got mad when people commented and said it was mean, but you never asked me how I felt anyway. I don’t complain cause I don’t want to make you feel bad but...like...you don’t know it’s embarrassing? Or you do and don’t care? I hafta watch anything I do when you’re around because I never know if you’re taking more pictures of me to post there and...you never ask.” She shrugged and looked away. “You say I can do the same, but y’know I won’t. I’d never. Cause I love you too much and...that’s what friends do, right? Look out for each other and not share things they don’t want shared? Keep secrets?”

Alya swallowed.

“But you told Nino.”

Alya flinched.

“You told him how I felt. Used him to put me in a position I will never not regret.” She gave a sob. “And I don’t know why anymore. Do you...do you like watching me fail?”

“I was...trying to help.” Alya explained.

“Then why does it hurt each time? Why do you talk down to me so much?” Marinette gripped her hair and pulled in clear agitation. “You get mad at me for talking about Adrien. You get mad at me for trying to confess to Adrien. You get mad at me for trying to give up on Adrien. I don’t know what to do to make you not mad.”

“Marinette, it’s not like that! You know that!” Alya insisted, feeling her heard pounding. In fear? In hurt? It was hard to tell.

The bluenette paused, slowly lowering her hands and relaxing her shoulders.

“Sometimes...”Marinette murmured. “Sometimes I wonder if this is how friendship is supposed to be. But...y’re the first friend I ever had. So I don’t know. And I’m too scared to ask because what if it is and you get mad and leave me? And that...everything else hurts. But the thought of you leaving me hurts more. I don’t know if it’d be worse to give up.”

Alya felt her own eyes tear up.

She couldn’t answer that. There was no answer for that.

There was a long silence.

“’M really tired.” Marinette suddenly complained. “And my mouth hurts. Is the surgery done yet?” She asked, looking up at Alya in confusion. Like the entire conversation never happened.

“Y-yeah.” Alya said, nodding her head. “They...everything just finished up. Your mom said you could sleep now.”

“Oh. Kay.” Marinette mumbled. Recognizing that she was in her own bed, she went to lay down, only struggling a little with the covers.

Alya began backing away, reaching for the door.

“G’night, Alya. Thank you for watching out for me.”

She froze, her hand on the door handle.

“Of...of course.” Alya replied.

“That’s...what friends do, after all.”

#ml fic #ml drabble #alya cesaire #marinette dupain cheng #ml salt #alya salt #toxic friendship #adrien salt #lila sucks

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