#when she's not overcome with emotion and distracted

[isagrimorie]

Agatha figured something out.

Lilia says ominously to both of them, "Death… comes for us all."

Immediately, you can see the gears in Agatha's head turning. Something is up, and she's figured something out. I think we will find out in a few episodes. Very much a Chekov moment.

[criminalamnesia]

Not a request but NEW TRAITOR CHAP WHEN??? prioritize urself no rush Pookie just the ppl gotta know

part 7 is here 🙏

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

it was pouring rain as you slid from the taxi, the driver attempting to yell at you to shut the door as thunder rumbled overhead.

you paid him no heed; boots splashed in murky puddles as you pushed the door closed and moved towards the yellow cab’s trunk.

you could barely hear yourself think. the rain was battering the ground as if locked in a viscous war with the cracked pavement— puddles forming as the asphalt resisted with all its might. it wasn’t enough, water seeping into the ground and muddying the grass nearby, drowning it mercilessly.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before shutting the trunk. you’d barely stepped back from the car before it was speeding off, kicking up water and splashing your legs.

you didn’t mind— you were soaked through to the bone, anyways. besides, you didn’t mind the storm. it was comfort— a distraction from what lay ahead.

your new team. a small, covert operations group made up of the best of the best. two sergeants, a lieutenant, a captain— and they wanted one more soldier.

the opening couldn’t have come at a better time. you’d run your course with your old squad. they’d been fine— until they weren’t. carelessness and ignorance from teammates almost resulted in your untimely death, and laswell hadn’t questioned your transfer request after hearing the tale.

in fact, she’d recommended the one-four-one to you.

you thought you’d be meeting them on base, but the captain had requested you meet them here, instead. a run-down old diner, with its bright, neon pink sign blinking down at you through the rain.

you inhaled, then exhaled. clenched your fists, then unclenched them. it was a habit you’d had since you were a child. it forced you to slow down and think, to overcome the emotions you were lost in.

you blinked. rain ran down your face, creating false tears as it streamed from the corners of your eyes. you were sure you looked a sight.

another inhale, another exhale, and then you moved towards the diner’s door. you pushed it open, stepping inside and wiping your boots on the mat in front of the door.

“I think you’re gonna need to do more than that to dry off, sweetheart” a woman’s voice calls to you, causing you to look up towards the counter. she’s grimacing, looking you up and down. no doubt she’ll be following your path through the building with a mop in hand.

“sorry,” you tell her, trying to brush some water from your jacket. “forgot my umbrella.”

the woman gave a huff, waving her hand before turning and attending to an ancient-looking coffee maker.

you take the time to glance around the diner then, noting the substantial lack of customers. only two booths were occupied, one containing a young couple tangled in each other’s arms, and the other containing a man wearing a baseball cap with the UK flag patched on it.

he looked up from his phone as you approached, seemingly unsurprised based on the grin he gave you.

“glad to see you got here in one piece,” he says as you shrug off your bag, placing it on the floor as you slide into the seat across from him.

“one drenched piece,” you say, and he gives a small chuckle.

“im kyle,” the man tells you. “don’t know what laswell told you,” he clicks off his phone and places it on the table. “but im one of the sergeants.”

you nod. “callsign ‘gaz,’ right?”

he gives a nod of his own. his phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. his eyes glance down, scan the message, then meet yours once more.

“rest of the team got held up. price is in a meeting. johnny and ghost are on assignment, but they’re due back any day now.”

“so you’re the welcome committee by default, huh?” you say, and he laughs.

“guess i am. have i scared you off yet?”

“dunno,” you tell him. “but laswell sings your praises. the captain’s, especially.”

“she sings yours, too.” kyle says.

you give a small nod, your mind racing at what laswell may have told the task force. you weren’t bad at your job— you were great at it. a great shot, a reliable solider, a tireless sentry.

your emotions got the better of you at times, that was all. attachments and bonds that formed, linking you and your fellow soldiers together in the web of warfare. tying you around the wrist and dragging you along, for better or worse. little siblings or lovers evolving from what once had been just another set of boots on the ground.

this job was all you had. you found family where you had too, and it made you all the more loyal. but when you were spurned? when the fire leapt from the pit and scorched your skin?

you weren’t quick to forgive, and you found that reasonable in this line of work. mistakes by teammates could get you killed. who could blame you for holding a grudge against an ally who had almost cost you your life?

it’s why you were here now. a new start with a new team— a team of the best, you included.

kyle’s phone buzzes again. he picks it up, the screen illuminating his face as the lights flicker overhead. the storm wasn’t letting up.

“cap’s on his way— says he’ll be here in less than 30.”

“price, right?” you recall his name. kyle nods.

“don’t tell him I told you,” he leans in, a mischievous look in his eyes, “but he’s been lookin’ forward to meeting you. maybe even more than johnny has.”

“why’s that?”

“said the one-four-one is overdue for someone else who can kick johnny’s ass. wants you to knock him down a few more pegs.”

you laugh at that, giving a small shake of your head. kyle’s lips curl into a smile. “nah, he’s just happy to have some more hands on deck. always helps to have another person that’ll watch your back.”

as kyle starts talking again, you find your nerves settling.

maybe this team could be your new family.

you looked down at your hands, noting the slight shake of them. you don’t think they’d been steady since before everything happened.

your eyes glance to the ugly, scarred stump of the finger you’d lost. simon hadn’t chopped it off prettily, and it’d been stitched up hastily. you couldn’t blame the doctor, there had been more pressing injuries to attend to.

such as the bone-deep cut to one leg, growing infected from your time spent in the chair. the scar was long, stretching from the top of your thigh to your knee. it was still pink, a sign of your body still trying to put itself back together.

your torso wasn’t much better. jagged scars and puckered knots of skin marred your image. both from before and from after.

your eyes met your own in the mirror. you barely recognized yourself. the anger within you still burned, but its flame had reduced to a simmer. exhaustion, apathy, and shame had taken its place.

perhaps that was a good thing. it saved you the energy of fighting the men you inevitably saw every day. despite your numerous pleas and demands for them to simply leave you alone, they seemed to have a hard time listening. it made you want to scream. to hurt them, digging your fingers into skin until they understood the pain behind your words.

a knock sounded at the door. you didn’t move.

a knock again. you could hear the shuffle of feet outside the door. you wished whoever it was would leave you be.

another knock, accompanied by the soft timbre of kyle’s voice.

“love, you alright in there?” he was saying. you still stood before the mirror.

things had been different since you attacked the doctor. it had only been a few days, but word spread quickly through base. if people had avoided you before, you were like the plague now.

and the shame you felt was insurmountable. the pain and regret and fury were building like a tidal wave in your stomach, rising and choking the air from your lungs.

you wanted to leave this place. get away from the men you once called family, the one you once called yours.

but leaving meant the end of your career. you just had to hold out until kate arranged your transfer, that’s all. just a few more days, right?

and then this place and these people wouldn’t be a constant reminder of what had happened to you. of what it had done to you, physically and mentally.

“go, kyle,” you called out to him, breaking from your trance as you reached for the scratchy robe johnny had gifted you one christmas.

“not until i see you breathin’, love.”

you sigh, tying the robe shut and hugging the material to your body. you moved to the door, turning the lock before inching it open.

“breathing,” you tell him, watching as his eyes flick away from yours. god, it made you want to strangle him.

to yell at him, to yell at all of them— "you did this, and you should be able to look me in the eyes and see it.”

“now go.”

he looks at you again, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “will you let me in?” he asks, and you scoff as you move to slam the door.

“fuck off, kyle.”

but he’s quick, and his hand shoots out, grasping the door’s wooden edge and keeping it from closing.

“we need to talk.”

“whatever you need to say, you can say it from there,” you tell him, and he pauses for a minute before he nods.

“doc is asking about you again. she’s up and runnin’ around. said she wants to see you.”

your lips press into a thin line. you didn’t deserve that woman’s kindness, not after what you’d done to her.

you hadn’t been in your right mind, but that didn’t excuse it. you had bloodied your fists; harmed an innocent in the war between you and your own mind.

you didn’t want to see her still worrying about you when you had assured her you were fine. you had left her supervision, and then you’d attacked her. and you hadn’t stopped until simon had pulled you away.

you would’ve killed her, you know that in your heart. you would’ve killed her, thinking she was one of the men who had wanted to kill you.

“tell her im fine,” you said, your hand tightening around the door’s knob.

“i think she’d rather see that for herself,” he says.

“im fine,” you repeat. “i’ll be out of everyone’s hair in a few days, anyways.”

kyle’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “you’re leaving?”

he knew this, they all did. perhaps they just didn’t truly believe it. all of them, every single one, still thought you’d turn around and run back into their arms.

bastards.

“as soon as laswell gives the word,” you reply. “should be soon.”

kyle doesn’t speak. he’s obviously biting his tongue— you’d seen the expression that was on his face enough to know when he was holding back, but you didn’t prod like you would’ve before.

let him keep his secrets, lies, promises, and sorries. you didn’t need them anymore.

“don’t bother me again,” you said before shutting the door in his face.

you hear him sigh on the other side of the wood, then hear the retreat of his steps. you turn back to the mirror, snarl, and grab the alarm clock from your nightstand.

you throw it into the glass, shattering it to pieces. seven years of bad luck, you think.

well, it couldn’t get much worse, could it?

kyle sighs, staring at your door for a second longer before turning away. simon looks down at him from where he was leaning against the wall, hidden from your view, his muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“surprised?” simon asks as the two of them retreat down the hallway. he makes sure they’re far enough from your door before speaking, so that you won’t hear his voice.

“we knew it was happening, price said as much after that whole thing with johnny,” kyle replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “just thought this might change things.”

“change ‘em how?” simon says. “if anythin’, this speeds it up. they’re a liability now.”

“they’re hurt, ghost,” kyle retorts, his eyes meeting his superior’s. “that’s ptsd. not everyone’s as forgiving as the doc. they attack someone outside and that’s a fucking felony.”

“that’s not our problem, sergeant,” comes simon’s baritone reply, and kyle stops.

“you’re a fuckin’ case yourself, y’know that, LT?” he says, and simon stops. “we all played a part,” kyle continues. “but you? you would’ve killed ‘em if we never knew the truth. i know you would’ve. i’ve seen you do it.”

the men stare at each other. simon’s expression is hidden underneath his balaclava, but kyle knows it’s unreadable regardless.

mean, old ghost. heartless bastard, loyal to the mission only. that’s what the others around base whispered to each other.

kyle had seen proof to the contrary. yes, simon was loyal to the mission. but he was also loyal to his team, his family. you.

he was loyal to you.

“watch yourself, sergeant,” simon speaks, his voice a dangerous rumble.

kyle scoffs and walks off, shaking his head.

simon watches him go, his breath steady.

kyle didn’t understand him, not really. not the way you had begun to. and that was his own fault, he knows it. forever holding those close to him at arms length for fear of the worst.

he’d let you in— let you invade that space he enforced so ruthlessly. and the worst had happened.

kyle doesn’t know this is tearing him in half; none of the team does. they don’t understand that simon wants you to stay because you’re you, but he wants you gone because he can see how this is killing you.

even when he’s the villain in your story, he’s still trying to look out for you— in his own, twisted way.

he doesn’t regret it. that is cemented in his mind. but as he grapples with his own emotions, his mind in its own turmoil, he knows he wants you to be okay.

“im sorry,” he had spoken to deaf ears.

sorry for the ripping apart of your life, but not sorry for what he had done.

deep down, he knew you would never forgive them. he knew that leaving this team would be the best thing for you.

he knew, he knew, he knew.

knowing and accepting are two different things.

hope this was worth the wait! i think the next part will be the end, unless my idea changes 👀

[millersfinest]

the thing in your chest that beats | e.w

santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader

wc: 5k

mini-series: california (you’re here) | oregon | idaho | wyoming

blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…

cw: angry!r, mentions of fate, santa barbara arc, infected, shooting, lots of exposition, torture, violence, vulgar language, slow-burn romance, eventual smut, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption.

note: this first part is lowkey boring imo, but i hope the angst makes up for it. as always, please enjoy my hyperfixation!!

California

Ropes chafed at your skin; securing your legs and wrists on top of each other to the wooden post. Fog had shielded the setting sun from your skin—after many hours of being scorched. Your muscles ached and your bones were sore. The exposed skin on your shoulders and chest was dry and flaking, exposing an under layer of tenderness. Everything fucking hurt. But you were barely there; head nodding off from the scratching at your stomach and the dryness in your mouth ripping your lips apart.

How did you, a firefly, militarily trained, end up tied to a pillar at the cusp of a beach in Santa Barbara?

You were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. This group searched for people like you—lonely and pillaged by the weight of the world. You were too distracted to foresee their deception; they got lucky with you.

Until the chemical reactions in your brain short-circuited, causing you to act out in the name of self-preservation.

Wrath, by definition, is a trait you’re easily overcome with. It’s not just something that passes through you like other traits and emotions. It holds on. It makes a home in your body and directs you like a rabid dog—a burdening feeling that nestled between your sore muscles. It filled you with adrenaline to kill and destroy—to get rid of the people who tried to get rid of you.

And, every time, you managed to find yourself feeling bad about it. There was no explanation for that. Just your heart being too sensitive for world you existed in—it was constantly broken. By yourself and your circumstances.

It was your own fault that you were captured by the rattlers. You should’ve never left Catalina Island for a pipe dream. There wasn’t anything better than the firefly base—you should’ve known that and never left. Perhaps, if you had remained under the duty of your earned dog tags, you wouldn’t have been thrusted into the situation that you were in.

Wyoming was a lie that you told yourself because you wanted to live a life that didn’t exist.

Locked in a debate with death, your body abruptly hit the dense surface of the sand. The ropes that bound you to that skewer had been severed by a fallen angel. A prisoner you had attached yourself to in the hopes of survival. Her hair was coily and reflected copper under the Californian sun.

You came to from the impact, finally beginning to hear the ongoing gunfire coming from the resort buildings. As you twitched in pain, she cut the bindings at your wrists and ankles. Tucking a pistol into your hand, she muttered words of hope. “Good luck out there, hotshot.”

Your lips moved to respond, but there wasn’t any sound. It didn’t matter, though, because she wasn’t around to hear it. The young woman at once took off in the opposite direction of the chaos with a bag over her shoulder.

Stuck in a dilemma, you didn’t move for a few moments. Eyes stuck on the weight in your weak hands. It was nothing but a black semi-automatic—it weighed nothing compared to bigger firearms. However, it sunk your hand into the sand as if it weighed a ton. You couldn’t even hold a gun with the same conviction that you used to. Yet, the fallen angel had faith that you could.

Taking in a deep wheezing breath, you tried to stand to your feet. You got up enough for your knees to bend, but once you extended them, you crashed back into the sand with a thud. In temporary defeat, you looked to the people still suspended on the pillars. They were unmoving, rotting away from the inside out. That could’ve been you if it weren’t for her cutting you down.

In mourning them, you gave standing another attempt. Keeping your hands low to catch your fall. But you didn’t fall. The muscles in your legs were weak, trembling as you stretched them. With a hunch in your back, you grabbed the gun, adjusting it in your hands. Your professional form remained the same as remnants of your training. Placing your hands over one another on the handle, supporting its weight. Aiming the barrel toward nothing specific, just to get the feeling again. It’s been months since you had opportunity to defend yourself.

With as much quickness that you could muster, you went through the resort to grab supplies. A backpack, medkit, and some food.

Setting your mind on leaving, you tried to sneak through the gunfire between the prisoners and the rattlers. But that simply wasn’t in the cards for you.

Before you could escape the resort, one of them had a bone to pick with you. It was the same rattler that was your deceptive captor. She used her femininity to convince you that she needed help—that she was weak and she needed your help. If anything, you have a bone to pick with her.

She had come at you with her bear hands, pushing your face up against a wall. She tore the backpack from your back, throwing it to the side. Where did her wrath come from? Somehow, you managed to get the upper hand. Straddling her body delivering punches that you haven’t in awhile. It felt natural to you to release such violence against another person.

Through beating her bloody, you found your power again. Tearing off the shimmering dog tags around her neck that had previously belonged to you. Heaving, you looked down at her. She had split your lip and broken your nose, but you could argue that you did worse to her. Her nose was cracked in multiple places, as she coughed up her own blood and teeth. It slipped down the crevices of her face, dribbling into her brown eyes.

“Fuck you.” You firmly speak, picking up your bag from its straps, swinging it around your shoulders.

From the fight, you had stumbled into a room of firearms. Still weak, you limped around. Causing you to walk away from the damage with a Beretta A300 shotgun and ammunition.

Like it was a prize after a big challenge.

You found yourself stumbling along the sand of the beach you were stuck on. This time, closer to the foggy waters of the coast. Ignoring the throbbing sensation in your thigh. You were barely sentient, running on nothing but fumes. But you knew you had to get as far from Santa Barbara as you could.

All of sudden, darkness began encapsulating your eyes from the outside in. Your limbs grew heavier, slowing down the pace of your movements—you collapsed into the sand like the damsel you had become.

When your eyes fluttered open, you were laying on an itchy couch. Waking up felt like awaking from a coma. Sitting up was a chore because of the tightness of your muscles. You felt it like a sickness in your chest. Trying to move your legs, you sucked in a pained breath. A hole that was cut into your ripped jeans was covered by white wrapping. Gauze.

A single lantern in the middle of the living room illuminated the space. It was placed on a dusty coffee table—off-center. Your backpack and weapons leaned against an entertainment center; a large cabinet that combined the use of compartments as well as a space for the tv to fit.

Blinking slowly, you tried to remember how you got there. Fingers gripping at the cushions, experiencing a crazy amount of brain fog. A wrapper crackled under the weight of your hand as you shifted. It was a granola bar tucked under the pillow that you laid your head on.

You stomach scratched at your abdomen, so you wasted no time in retrieving it—ripping open the wrapper and biting into the nutty granola. The side of your foot kicked over a metal canister, accidentally. Clashing toward the scratched wooden floors, it startled you. Reaching down, you shook it in your hands. There was a liquid inside. Screwing the lid off, you realized it was only water. Something else your body demanded of you.

Who put all this stuff here? It couldn’t have been you.

A creak from the side of the room, caused you to snap your head in that direction. Chewing slowly on the oats in your mouth, your eyebrows scrunched. Your free hand felt your hip from the cool metal of that gifted pistol, but there was nothing but the fabric of your jeans.

By the time she came into your view, your body froze. Your gun was across the room, she had the advantage. She loomed in the darker parts of the room as if she were hiding from you—in a way that was prey-ish, rather than predatory.

“I didn’t think you’d wake up…”

Her voice was raspy, and she spoke with a slow cadence. When she came into the light, she kept her distance. By the corner of the entertainment center cabinet—on the opposite end of where your bag was laying. Her auburn strands were choppy and tucked behind her ears. She wore a white t-shirt that was filthy with, what looked like, blood and dirt. Hands fidgeting with each other in front of her body as she eyed you with concern. She was missing her pinky and ring finger from her left hand. “You’d been out for hours… I, uhm, stitched up a wound on your leg— thought you might’ve caught an infection.”

She lacked conviction when she spoke to you. Voice leaving with a sort of emptiness, or perhaps, guilt. “Where’d you find me?” You asked, gritting your jaw. Holding onto the metal canister tight enough to use as a weapon if need be. That last thing you wanted was to be fooled by a stranger again.

She cleared her throat. “The beach.”

That’s when it hit you. The memories of your weakness hit. You remember dragging your legs through the sand, catching the glimpse of a body sitting in the water beside a vacant boat, then falling into a deep sleep. Of course, you, somehow, offered yourself up to a stranger.

It was just your luck, huh?

“There were others you could’ve helped… Why me?”

A scoff fell from her lips. Scarred eyebrows jutting together; an attitude washing over her freckled features. As if your words were charged with something else besides cautious curiosity. “I was expecting more of a thank you...”

You blinked, sucked your teeth. “I don’t know you from a can of fucking paint— so, you should lower your expectations.” You retorted, boring your eyes into her slender figure. What alarmed her was how your voice scolded gently. It cut deeper that way. “I mean, what is that on your shirt? Blood? Would you wanna thank some stranger in a bloody shirt?”

She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Have you seen yourself?” Her thick eyebrow raised, voice dropping an octave. “You look like shit—“

You glanced at the shirt that clung to you perspiring body. It also had remnants of blood and dirt and sand. Leaning your elbows on your thighs, you leaned forward. “Fuck you! You have no idea what I’ve been through—!”

“And you know what I’ve been through?” She countered, scoffing after her words.

You talked over each other—barking like unfamiliar dogs. Wrath came easy to you; and, apparently, it came easy to her, too. Her words silenced you, but you grit your teeth. “I should’ve left you where I found you— fuckin’ joke’s on me.” She ran a hand through her short hair, taking long strides out of the living room. Preparing to sink back into the corner she came from.

Clearing your throat, you swallowed your pride. There was a sincerity behind her eyes that you couldn’t ignore. Her anger radiated off her epidermis is such a way that it was familiar. “All right,” You sighed, positioning your body slowly to face her departing figure. She’d stopped in her path, peering over her boney shoulder. “I don’t recognize you from the cells… Or the pillars. Who the fuck are you?” Your eyebrows furrowed, voice weakening by the mention of your greatest failure: becoming a slave to the weirdest assholes known to man.

Wheels shifted in her mind, her olive eyes flickering around in the dark, in thought. Lips opening and closing, trying to formulate her words—but there was no use. She decided to resume her steps, sequestering herself in a bedroom. You heard the sound of the door shutting and locking the door behind her.

Groaning, you shut your eyes, leaning your head against the soft, itchy pillows, frustrated.

Unbeknownst to you, she’d locked herself in that room because she found herself overcome with emotion—hot, streaming tears. She didn’t know you as much as you didn’t know her, and she wasn’t going to share her own greatest failures with you. If what you were saying was true, you were victimized. How could someone like her talk to someone like you? After the things she’s done… After the things she was prepared to do.

The sun ascended, with the two of you lingering in separate rooms. You had eventually fallen asleep after some hours in your thoughts. Wondering about the story of the woman sheltering herself from you. Multiple times, you had to stop yourself from dwelling. This is what got you caught up with the first time. Instead, you began to think about what your plans were.

Were you going to resume your journey to Wyoming, in the hopes of finding that settlement? Or were you going to hitch it back to Catalina Island? And hope to God that they take you back with minimal consequences. Dwelling on those thoughts, instead of her, is what brought you to sleep.

When you woke up, you finished the metal canister of water. Giving the room a proper once-over. Sun rays cascaded through the dusty windows like beams, illuminating the room, angelically. Taking a deep breath, you decided to walk around. The soreness in your body hadn’t changed—you still felt burdened by your own body.

The home was a single-leveled Tuscan inspired home. Its interior was riddled with browns and beiges. Dragging your feet against the wooden floor, you entered the kitchen. All the cabinets were blown open and searched through. You assumed it was that woman who you’d met—still, you didn’t know her name.

Looking down at the counters, there was a yellow-paged note on the furthest one from you. The island closest to her bedroom. It was lying under a pill bottle. You shifted as quickly as you could to the note, sliding the pill bottle to the side, but not without a glance. They were antibiotics.

Found the antibiotics in the cabinets this morning, there’s only two left. Take them both.

I left to go hunt for some food. Stay in the house if you know what’s best for yourself. There’s infected around.

I’ll be back soon.

— E

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “If I know what’s best for myself…” Pressing into the top of the bottle, you unscrewed it. With nothing but your saliva, you knocked back two of the pills just like she told you. However, not because she told you to. There were many reasons for you to catch an infection from the wound on your leg—the wound you didn’t even remember how you got.

“I can handle infected.” You muttered to yourself. It’s been awhile since you really dealt with them face-to-face, but it was an innate ability. Why wouldn’t you be able to defend yourself from infected? Your only limits were your body stuck in its state of pain.

But, where you come from, sometimes it took movement to heal pain. Pushing through soreness and tightness was the only way to move forward.

So, instead of waiting around for E to come back around. You decided to explore some of the nearby houses. Ones that were only a few paces away from the house that you were currently in—you weren’t that stupid.

You secured your backpack around your shoulders, hooking the strap of your shotgun around your arm, and sticking the pistol in the back of your jeans. The first stop was next door. Slowly, you had climbed through a broken window. Landing in a bedroom decorated with childish posters. Focusing, you found yourself busy with looting the home. Taking things of importance and putting them inside of your bag.

You didn’t run into anything shocking until the third place you visited—three houses down. Thankfully, there was no clicking, but there were the familiar wailings of a runner. Catching a glimpse of coily copper hair, huddled over sobbing in her hands, you crouched behind a wall. Eyes shifting from side to side, trying to digest the visual.

Good luck, hotshot.

Perhaps, it was her who really needed the luck. Slowly, you removed the gun from your shoulder, leaning it against the wall. The breaths from your lips fled in chunks, pulling the gifted pistol from your waistband. You had known her for the entirety of your stay at that treacherous resort—she was your anchor. She helped you with your anger, keeping you under an emotional routine. Later, it worked for the worst instead of the better, but she tried to help you in there. She was patient with you.

You stepped from the wall, aiming the chamber of the pistol at the back of her head. You didn’t know her for that long, but you knew she wouldn’t want something like this for herself. She had plans just like you did—she wanted out of California. Leaving her to stumble around this broken home would be fucked up.

She freed you. Now, it was time for you to free her.

“You deserved better than this, Honey.” She was sweet and tangy like honey; that’s why you called her that. It wasn’t even her name—you didn’t know her name.

Your index finger squeezed the trigger, sending the bullet straight through her unsuspecting mind. Her whines were more coherent, meaning that all of that just happened. The infection had just taken over. A tear had slipped down the fat of your cheek when her body hit the ground. The shot echoing against the walls and through the neighborhood.

She lasted no longer than a day on her own, and those rattlers were nothing but the blame. They drained you enough to make you suffer but keep you working. But, out on the road, you stood no chance.

There was a piece of notebook paper on the floor by the baseboards of the wall Honey’s body laid beside. With a lump in your throat, you plucked it from the ground, holding it delicately in your hands.

After months of captivity, I’ve found myself in a situation that I could have never imagined. I didn’t notice when the clicker bit me, everything happened so fast!

It hurts now, though, a lot. And the anticipation of the infection is worser than I expected it to be. This is the part where I put a gun in mouth to end it all.

I’m too tired to do that. For once, I don’t wanna fight.

I apologize to those who end up witnessing what I have become.

The palm of your hand covered your mouth in shock as you read the letter. Honey must’ve been horrified. And it hurt to know that she went through it all alone.

Catching you in a grieving state, E had vaulted through a broken window with her gun in hand. Her olive eyes landed on you, subsiding the subtle look of shock on her face. “I thought I told you to stay in the house.” She tucked the pistol into the waistband of her jeans, sighing. “You’re in no condition to travel alone…” Her eyes casted onto your frame leaning over a marble counter, reading over the letter silently.

Hearing her footsteps, you folded up the letter and slid it into your back pocket. Taking a final look at the dead woman on the floor, a reflection of your friend that didn’t exist anymore, you brush past the the auburn-haired woman. Shoulders grazing as you achingly climb out of the same window she came in from.

Without saying, what happened to Honey worried you. Loneliness was a cruelty that many could afford—you experienced it. But loneliness along with bodily ailments wasn’t a problem you wanted. If it weren’t for E, you could’ve been in the same position as Honey. What made you worth saving and not her? A ball of fury, like yourself, should’ve been the first to go.

Yet, a level of gratefulness washed over you. Were you ready to thank the freckled stranger for her saviorship?

E followed you back to the house, binding the front door with furniture. Entering, you noticed two rabbits attached to a string laying on the tiled counter. Impressed, you hummed, while dragging your feet toward the couch you had slept on. You shrugged off your backpack and leaned your shotgun against the wall.

The auburn-haired woman peered at you, messing with rabbits, pulling them off the string to prepare to cook them. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She breathed. Her voice coming out like a muttered sigh, but it was loudly quiet in the house. Therefore, your ears picked up on her words.

You ignored her, pulling out the note, and kicking your feet up onto the couch to read it again. Analyzing the messy handwriting on the page, tainted with dried tears and dirty hand prints. E had brought in a metal trashcan to cook the animals she hunted for the both of you. Every so often, peaking at you with interest and wonder.

When the rabbits were cooked, she brought it over to you in a chipped ceramic bowl. “Thanks…” You mutter, barely meeting her eyes.

“Yeah,” She answered, slightly taken off guard.

The two of you eat separately, on different sides of the room. E didn’t retreat back into the room had the night before. Instead, she propped herself on the stool by the island table. Where she could keep her intense olive eyes on you—attempting to read you without asking questions.

You were impressed by the rabbit presented to you. Back at the base, you were familiar with chicken more so than rabbit, though. There was a hesitation when taking the first bite. But the rumble in your belly was satisfied by the animal, and that was all that mattered.

Feeling a strong gaze on you, peering to the side was a natural reaction. She’d snap her eyes back to her plate before you could fully catch her. Sighing, you set the plate on the coffee table in front of the couch.

In your looting, a bottle of wine called out to you from the basement of one of the Tuscan homes. You limped toward the kitchen with your calloused hand wrapped around the sloped neck of the bottle. Placing the bottle at the middle of the island, you take a seat at the furthest end from her. “I thought I would properly thank you for saving my ass…” You cleared your throat, awkwardly. Choosing to keep your eyes trained on your fidgeting fingers. “It’s Cabernet, I think. The label’s kind of rubbed off.”

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

You pursed your lips, flickering your eyes to peer at her. “Hm.” You hum. “Okay, well, more for me, I guess.” You shrug, reaching for the wine. The plan was to drink it either way—if she wanted it, or if she didn’t. Peeling off the wrapper, you were happy to see that it was a screw top instead of an imbedded cork.

Taking the first sip, its sweetness spread over your tongue. The alcohol percentage was fairly high, so you were expecting a pleasurable feeling within the next few minutes. If you kept gulping at the bottle. You deserved a bit of man-made solace after what you’ve been through. After the things you’ve seen. Taking another sip, you prepare to go back to the couch you were sat on, with the bottle in your hand.

However, E places a hand on the cool tiles. “Wait…” She rolled her eyes. “One sip wouldn’t hurt.” In her silence, she realized that she also deserved a few moments of calmness—self-care.

The corners of your lips curled, sitting back down on your stool. You slid the bottle close enough for her to reach it, leaning your head against your fist.

Orange rays of the sun shifted through the room; setting so the moon could take her place. You and E had found comfort in the wine and in the space between yourselves. Scooting close to each other until there was only a single stool in the center of you. Talking about the more joyous parts of your lives—which, surprisingly, wasn’t much. The pair of you managed to keep the important information off the record. Upholding a level of vagueness between your truth.

When E had brought up her son and girlfriend, that’s when the energy shifted in the room.

“You have a family? Then… Why are you out here?”

A beat slivered between you, circling your bodies like a ribbon.

“I recognize those dog tags… You’re a firefly? I thought they shut down years ago.” She spoke with rigid shoulders, taking a swig of the Cabernet.

Your hand reached for the thin metal around your neck, decorating your exposed collarbones. There was a disconnect between you and the facility you had grown up in. While you loved the support of the community, as you got older, you wanted something different. “Yeah, after everything shut down, another popped up here—in California. It’s the only one left, I believe.”

She chuckled, cheeks flushed from the alcohol accumulating in her system. “Hm. Are you gonna try and recruit me into your little cult? Is that why you’re still out here?”

Deepening your eyebrows, you peered down at the grout between the tiles under your hands. “Probably… If I still was a firefly…” Slowly, you enunciated. “I haven’t been one for months now.”

“Ah, you went rogue.”

“I wouldn’t say that… But, yeah, I guess.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for the wine bottle. She put it in your hand, leaning her elbow against the counter. E left room for you speak, just boring her hazed eyes into your frame. “I was done with being an asshole for a living— I don’t want to just survive anymore… I want to live.” You take a large swig of the wine, lamenting subtly.

Look where desiring life got you. Locked up as a slave for another bunch of assholes. “I heard from some people that there was a place in Wyoming that wasn’t anything like the fireflies.” You inhaled, sharply. “I could live a normal life there— maybe it’s a stupid idea… I don’t know.”

E deepened her thick eyebrows, leaning forward. “Are you talking about Jackson?”

“Yeah, I think so. There was a map in my bag that had the name. I lost it when the rattlers got ahold of me.”

With scrunched face, she stood to her feet. Running her hands over her face, releasing a tired sigh. “It’s not that stupid of an idea…” Looking back at you, she placed her hands on her hips. “That’s where I’m headed— Jackson, Wyoming.”

“Oh…”

Was this the fated reasoning behind why the both of you met? Both harboring an inner pain and guilt for something or someone. Two damaged souls meeting in the middle—this could be a productive exchange. But what would E receive?

She swore under her breath, running her fingers through her hair, stressfully. “You could come with me, it’s not like you’d get far in your condition alone.” She blinked, casually. You scoff at her words, sucking your teeth. She could never just be kind. Sure, it was obvious that you were injured—in horrible shape—but you weren’t inherently weak. You were a trained individual, something that most people couldn’t say.

“I’d feel like an asshole if I didn’t at least offer. It’s a long journey—“

“Oh, you still come off like an asshole, but I appreciate the offer.” You nod, jumping from the stool. “Those fucks threw me off track— I wouldn’t even know where to start up again… So, yeah, I’ll go with you.”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“You don’t make me regret this. I have a bad history when it comes to trusting strangers.” You pressed your lips into a line, leaning against the island for support. There was a slight sway to stance, as the world around you didn’t feel stable.

“Okay, well, you have my word.” She affirmed, sliding her hands into her back pockets. “Do I have yours?”

You inhaled, sharply, glancing at the ceiling. “Yes, you have my word… On the condition that you tell me your name.” She narrowed her eyes at you, the corners of her lips curling. “We can’t possibly travel together if we don’t know each other’s names.”

The auburn-haired woman picked up the backpack she threw against the lower cabinets, slinging it over her shoulder. She was preparing to huddle into that bedroom again. Before leaving you in the dim hue of the few lanterns in the room, she spoke. “Ellie. My name’s Ellie.”

She waited by her door for your answer, with a raised eyebrow. You gave her your name, plainly. Straightening the hunch in your back—feigning a level of stoicism.

The only response she gave was a hum, before locking herself away. Releasing a sigh of relief, you smiled. Wyoming wasn’t the pipe dream you thought it to be. Yeah, the experiences you had leading up to that conversation weren’t the best. In fact, those experiences scarred everything about you. But could this have been the reason behind your hellish encounters?

[avocado-writing]

Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3

oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence

Astarion

stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground

you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?

”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.

he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight

tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌

Wyll

we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship

you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively

when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword

you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!

you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏

Gale

we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.

you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.

so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him

“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”

gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.

Karlach

is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol

roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf

she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”

”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”

her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss

“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”

Shadowheart

you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol

you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens

“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips

“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting

does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌

Lae’zel

“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”

she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.

has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops

afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️

Halsin

you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.

he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.

you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite

always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!

plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕

Minthara

her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.

you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword

you can’t help the words falling from your lips.

she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:

”good.”

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Mike declaring his "love" for El is what Henry has been waiting for.

Will, the well-intentioned selfless idiot that he is, has accidentally set in motion Henry's best chance to finally achieve his goals of...world domination? What exactly is he after, anyway?

El was on her way to becoming a stronger person. She faced her demons. She accepted her past mistakes that led to Henry's massacre, confronted Dr. Brenner and rejected his manipulations once and for all, and stopped seeing herself as Mike's idealized superhero girlfriend. It seemed that she was set to move past all of her biggest insecurities, which would allow her to face Henry without any mental weaknesses for him to exploit.

Then Will saw Mike moping about El. He couldn't handle Mike talking badly about himself. He wanted to let Mike know how he sees him, but, of course, he felt it wouldn't mean anything coming from him. So, he put El's name on everything, not even noticing how Mike's initial excited reaction at seeing the painting was dulled at Will crediting El with it. Nevertheless, Mike was overcome with emotion at someone seeing him exactly the way he always wished he would be seen. And, because of Will, he thinks it's how El sees him.

It remains curious that Mike and El never had an emotional conversation after they reunited. Yes, there was initially no time for that since they had to get back on the road to escape Sullivan. However, even with their need to plan what they needed to do to save Max, they could have talked. They were in that van fairly long considering it was daytime when El was rescued and night when they reached Surfer Boy Pizza. Perhaps they didn't want to talk in front of everyone else, though that didn't stop Will. They didn't really get a chance at that until everyone else was preparing for El's saltwater bath.

What may well have been a gentle breakup or, at the very least, an honest conversation about their relationship issues, instead was interrupted by Argyle. Indeed, Mike seemed eager to goof off with his blackout glasses and then seemed nervous when El took his hands with that "we need to talk" look. That conversation was their only chance to have a real talk, but they had no chance, and El was soon in the pizza freezer trying to save Max.

This brings us to the second part of Will's well-intentioned mistake. El is in danger. Henry managed to get the upper hand. El appeared to be dying. In an effort to give her strength, Will prompts Mike to talk to her. He's the heart. Mike had been hesitating, but he tells her he loves her. It's a bit unclear just what sort of effect this had on El, whether it helped or distracted her. However, she does eventually steel herself and, seeing that Max was about to be killed, summons the strength to fight back. Max is partially saved, but we never see Mike and El talk afterwards.

El is naturally rattled by Max's fate. She lost, and Max suffered for it. However, she makes no apparent attempts to find comfort or reassurance in Mike. Aside from the hospital room, she was quiet, going off on her own. The strong, determined, self-assured young woman she was growing into has fallen back into insecurity.

Meanwhile, Will has sacrificed his greatest desire for what he thinks will give Mike and El happiness. That will be Henry's opportunity.

Make no mistake: Henry knows that Will loves Mike. He had Will integrated into the hive mind. Brain scans showed that Will's mind was almost entirely taken over. He knows Will's every secret, and he also knows that Mike was the one who finally broke through to him in the shed. Mike trusts Will completely, and Will is able to sense Henry's presence.

Mike is the fly in the ointment, the spanner in the works. He's been far more of a problem for Henry than he even realizes. Mike is a problem for him. Will is a problem for him. Mike and Will together would be an even bigger problem.

In order to win, Henry needs three things to happen. First, isolate El. She is the only one who is capable of facing him one-on-one. She is stronger when she has something to fight for, something driving her to overcome the odds. If she doubts herself, he has a chance. He needs to take away her support system by either killing them or separating her from them.

Second, Mike needs to be taken out of the picture. Will was right. Mike is the leader, the heart. He knows how to rally an group of ordinary kids, now teens, to do things that should be well out of their abilities. Mike is caring, brave, and intelligent, but also very insecure. If he can get Mike doubting himself, then he won't be able to support El, Will, or anyone else.

Finally, Will has always been special to Henry. We don't yet know why, exactly, but Henry targeted Will from the start. Even after Will was rescued, Henry tried again a year later to bring Will into his control. It could be that he hates losing that much, or it could be that Will has some yet to be revealed asset that Henry needs. Their mental connection, at the very least, is a huge liability for Henry, but it has also been an asset for him in the past.

It seems to reason that any plan of Henry's needs to address these three, and I think it fits with what we know so far.

El seems to largely be isolated. She's apparently in hiding, which is likely since she's essentially a fugitive from the government. This would eventually take its toll on anyone, but El is also a teenager with a lifetime of trauma. She saw her best friend die. She has to hide from hostile forces while trying to protect the world from literal monsters. Over time, the stress could make her snap. Henry just has to keep her busy and away from the others.

We know that Holly is targeted by Henry, and Karen may end up in the hospital with severe injuries. This could very well be a calculated plan by Henry to get Mike out of the way. Killing Mike would probably enrage El to the point of her becoming too big of a threat, and it would also make it difficult to bring Will back under his control. Instead, he can target Mike's family to sow enough doubt in him to force him out of the picture. At the very least, he can distract Mike from being able to support the others if he's worried about his family, instead.

This would leave Will vulnerable, as well. We have reason to believe that Will has flashbacks/visions, possibly right away in episode 1. It's reasonable to think that the others could worry about Will being a spy for Henry again. Mike would trust him, but the others might think it'd be safer for Will to be away from the action, so Henry would be unable to use him. Rejection is a fear of Will's, not only from Mike, but in general. He wouldn't take it well if his friends saw him as a tool of the enemy. If Mike were to be too caught up in his own head to reassure Will, or, worse, start to see reason to doubt Will, himself, then Will could fall into a downward spiral. Will loves Mike. Needs him. Any rejection from Mike is painful to him. He may try to pretend that he's moved on, but feelings like those don't just go away. This would give Henry an opportunity to tempt him or outright possess him again.

Of course, we know that Henry will ultimately lose. This is all just how I feel he will try to attack what I see as his biggest obstacles to victory. Any thoughts?

[daportalpractitioner]

mommy's moon sign: a thread ☾ part two — libra thru pisces

if you're looking for part one (aries-virgo), then click here

libra moon: if your mom has a libra moon, she could have been more preoccupied with her relationship with your father rather than putting herself in a position to be focused on her pregnancy + preparing a balanced environment for you. libra moon mamas often go through it with the father of the baby if they prematurely decide to have kids outside of wedlock (we don't judge over here). your mom could have been more focused on the aesthetics of motherhood + also on you being able to have both parents under one roof to be able to fit her ideal family picture. this mentality could have led her to distract herself from the bigger picture which is making sure that she is in a healthy, fulfilling relationship with your father. i wouldn't be surprised if you knew more than you should have when it comes to your parents' relationship as a child. with libra being the sign of relationships, the relationship patterns that your mother exhibited when pregnant with you could have been something that you picked up on, whether it be healthy or unhealthy. beware of issues with co-dependency + people pleasing passed down from your mom as those are big themes that must be overcome in the life of a libra moon mama. libra moon mamas hold a lot of resentment due to being so passive about people overstepping their boundaries + could project that pain onto you if it remains undealt with. as her child, she may be triggered by her relationship with you because she sees you as her mirror. encourage her to have strong boundaries. it's okay for her to say no and she won't be hated for it. respect her decisions. be sure not to be the child that coddles her emotions at the end of the day because she is a grown ass woman, but you should affirm her that it is okay to self-validate without trying to over-rationalize however she feels so that she can move through her emotions + not be avoidant.

scorpio moon: the moon is in a debilitating position (fall) when in scorpio, therefore, it isn't uncommon for women to have a painful pregnancy due to all of the trauma being stored in the womb. your scorpio moon mama may have lived in a state of fear or distrust during her pregnancy + i wouldn't be surprised if she felt alone due to not trusting people. this lack of nurture within the womb was definitely passed down to you if she didn't take accountability to heal from the pain that she experienced. scorpio moon mama would kill to make sure that all your needs are met, but when it comes to handling intense emotions, she may have not known how to navigate those with you (similar to capricorn moon mothers). scorpio moons experience a wounded relationship with their own mother + now that it's their turn to be a mom, they want to be better for their children. motherhood is definitely something that transformed them for the better + they really have the make a conscious effort to not display the same patterns that hurt their inner child. be patient with her + even though you are not responsible for her emotions + how she handles them, provide a safe space for her so that she knows that she is not alone. having emotional boundaries with your mother is also important — not having those boundaries with her can manifest into perpetuating a preoccupied/anxious attachment within yourself.

sagittarius moon: sagittarius moon moms usually end up unexpectedly pregnant. i've noticed that a lot of sag moons are not aware of their cycle which can definitely be responsible for unexpected pregnancies. nonetheless, their pregnancy + motherhood is something they ended up being excited about. they could have had a "fuck it, we ball" mentality because realistically speaking, such is life. lack of preparation could have led to instability in your mother's life while she was pregnant + even after giving birth, bouncing around from place to place. sagittarius moon mamas usually have a youthful + humorous personality, being able to relate with their children + make them laugh. it can be hard to take a sagittarius moon mother seriously because they're usually deemed as the "cool moms" that are very lenient with their children. they can often struggle with disciplining their children because of their own free-spirit nature. if your mother didn't prioritize structure + routine while raising you, it's possible that you downloaded that naturally chaotic, fiery, and unpredictable energy that she also has. sagittarius moon mamas need to be able to teach their children that there are consequences to their actions so that their kids don't end up getting in trouble later on in life or even dangerous situations. hold your own mother accountable for her actions + don't be afraid to put her in her place! she has a lot to learn from her experience as a mother, which includes listening to the ones that she birthed.

capricorn moon: capricorn moon mothers usually have children later on in life (not always though) - either way, the universe granted them their babies when they were ready + prepared to take on this mission as a mother. before motherhood, capricorn moon mommies could have performed the motherly role in other ways (eldest sister, nursing/doctor/healer career, etc etc) so this is not their first rodeo. capricorn moons get a reputation for being cold + stern, which is how they may come across but really they are just not about the bullshit + they take their role as a mother very seriously. they recognize how serious motherhood is and therefore you are going to respect the fuck out of your capricorn mother, even if you don't agree with some of the things that she has tried to instill in you. capricorn moon mothers are focused on legacy + will do her best to make sure that she raises well-rounded children, setting them up for success. so if you have the kind of mother that has tried to shove education + career down your throat, it's because she just wants you to be successful. they also may struggle with being in their feminine energy, especially if your mother is the provider in the house so as her child, you should encourage her to do some therapeutic activities with you to ease some of that stress. though she takes her role as a mother very seriously, there is no denying how stressful the role is on her + can really take a toll on her physical body. if she's open to it because i know how traditional capricorn moons can be, i highly recommend going to therapy together in order to unpack + heal some of those deep seated emotional blockages that can really help to improve + strengthen the family unit.

aquarius moon: these are the unorthodox mothers. the mothers that have instilled confidence in their children from a very early age. your mother may have gotten pregnancy at an awkward time in her life, therefore she realized that she had to start getting real strategic around here to ensure success for this nu era in her life. with an aquarius moon mother, there may have been some distance between you two, whether it be physical or emotional distance. i've noticed that people with aquarius moon mothers were raised by their grandparents or were adopted + don't really know their mother like that (along with pisces moon mamas). if your mother was present throughout your entire upbringing, you may have noticed that she was preoccupied with other tasks such as showing up for her tasks in the real world. there could be strain between you and your mother because you may have felt like she could have paid more attention to you. regardless of how your relationship with your mother manifested, you more than likely came out to be very independent + confident enough to march to the beat of your own drum. these are the moms that started cursing in front of their kids since they were babies. because aquarius moon mamas are very independent themselves, you could have felt like your aquarius moon mama robbed you of your childhood because you too had to learn how to become independent + self-reliant from a young age, resulting in inner child wounds. because the relationship that you have with your mother is not like the traditional mother-child relationship, she can come off more like a friend or an older sister, also resulting in mother wounds because of that lack of motherly nurturance that the child craves + needs. learning to become emotionally vulnerable + transparent with your mother is a theme in order to evolve the relationship. validate where you feel like she may have lacked while also respecting the fact that she did the best that she knew how to. she needs you as someone to hold her ego accountable.

pisces moon: similar to the aqua moon mom, your mother may have been there, but also not "there". there could have been a period in your life where your mother was not physically present + you had to be raised by someone other than her (grandparents, foster care, aunts/uncles, etc). your mother may not have been in the most ideal situation when she got pregnant with you + pregnancy could have also been a karmic consequence for not listening to her intuition. regardless, when she knew she was pregnant, there was no way she could give up the opportunity to be a mother. if your mom was physically away from you, she was always there in spirit, praying for you + making sure that you are spiritually protected even if it's just by asking the powers that be to watch over you. like the other water moons, pisces moon mama may have had a traumatic relationship with their mother + may have transferred over that pain into the relationship that you've had with your mom. having a pisces moon mommy is not for the weak, especially if she didn't do her due diligence of karmic clean up, leaving it for you to take responsibility for. pisces moon mamas may also avoid the accountability + the responsibility of being a mother because the weight of motherhood is just too heavy, especially if she has lack of support, which often times they do. regardless of how your relationship is with mom, the energetic bond runs so deep as you are strongly karmically bound in order for certain karmic missions to be completed. definitely not the most reliable mom, but at the end of the day, it will forever be all love when it comes to her children. it's best to just accept her as is - whatever has transpired is not your fault, but it is your responsibility to do better for your own life.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Nilou, Kujou Sara & Hu Tao Seeing Their Stoic S/O Smile

A/N: It's been some time, hasn't it? Enjoy!

Your disposition is both puzzling and impressive to Nilou. Somehow, no matter how stressful or anger-inducing the situation is, you remain unphased. It’s comforting for her, knowing that you’ll be able to endure anything and be a steady pillar for her to lean on if things get rough. Still, being stoic means that you don’t give in to positive emotions as well, which is a great shame. Would Nilou love to see you smile? Obviously! But she won’t force you to change - she accepts and loves you for who you are.

“I have something important to tell you~!” Nilou’s voice trails off. Your eyes grow soft at her clenched hands and the big smile plastered across her lips. 

You nod. “I can tell it's something good. Don't keep me waiting, honey bee.” 

She nods in return, taking a deep breath. 

“The theater is going to stay!”

Nilou squeals and hops up in glee, her red hair swinging in the air. She twirls around, making your heart throb. The sight… it's too much for you to bear. 

She dashes up to you and grabs your hands. “The city bought most of the shares! Do you know what that mea- Oh!”

You can't stop your hands as they grab her hips and hoist her up to your height. Your lips pepper her features with kiss after kiss, your arms squeezing the absolute daylights out of her petite frame. 

“Amazing! Oh Archons, for a moment there I thought it was over!” You burst out, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad everything is okay!”

“H-hey, slow down a little! You'll squish me like a pancake, baby…” 

Mumbling a quick apology, you hold her up a bit looser. She opens her mouth to speak again, but Nilou's interrupted by a gasp. 

“Nilou? Is..” The feeling of her small hands on your cheeks causes you to trail off. You watch as her face quickly lights up even further. 

“You're smiling!”

At this revelation, a sudden wave of embarrassment floods you. A slight blush blossoms on your face as you clear your throat. 

“Oh… Well… I mean, it's no wonder - your joy is absolutely infectious, my love.” You don't bother to thwart the expression. Your girl gently caresses your bright red cheeks, taking in the image and surely committing it to memory. 

“You're very handsome when you smile, do you realize that?” Nilou speaks, looking you directly in the eyes, hers overflowing with giddiness. “Very handsome~ You should definitely do that a little more often. Please?”

“Thanks for the feedback. I’ll t-try my best.”

You use a kiss to distract her from your flustered self, and put her down. Nilou returns the gesture and grabs your hands. 

“Come on now - let's get ice cream! We have something to celebrate after all~”

You and Sara are soulmates, both mature, responsible and stoic. There is no challenge that you two can’t overcome, whether it be a problem in the relationship or something external. You have each other’s back and push on towards your goals, never wavering or falling behind. Still, everybody needs some downtime once in a while, even her. Surely you could use some guard-lowering as well. Sara understands that expressing emotions might be difficult - she is somewhat of an expert herself - so the Tengu will never force you to relax, and will take things slowly as you learn how to be in a relationship.

The click of the front door surprises Sara, making her heart drop. So soon already? She hastens her movements, fingers fumbling with the silk kimono. 

“Sara? Are you home?” You speak out, and the answer arrives shortly.

“Take a seat, Y/N! I’ll be there in a moment.”

She straightens the fabric and looks up at the tall mirror again. Her hair is orderly, the red Tengu mask now replaced with a white lily braided in. Although rudimentary - mainly due to her inexperience in these matters - the makeup highlights her eyes and contrasts nicely with the gold of Sara’s irises. Despite the long journey she walked with the kimono adorning her body, she still misses the heaviness of armor on her skin, but even she can’t dispute the elegance of the outfit. The majority of the silk is dyed black, vines with cherry blossoms tracing her sides and sleeves, all white as snow. Her obi belt is black as well with various feather shapes embroidered in white thread. 

Sara takes a deep breath to strengthen herself. You can do this. She walks out the door and steps into the corridor, right into your field of view. 

You freeze in place upon seeing her. Your eyes dart around the sight in front of you before landing on hers. She blushes and looks down, her hands finding each other and dropping down to her belly. 

“... do you like it…?” Sara asks shyly, her eyes switching between you and everything but. You blink a few times and nod your head. 

“Of course I do, Sara… You look positively stunning…” You try to avert your eyes, but fail. “Is there a special occasion?”

She grabs her forearm. “Well, no… I just wanted to surprise you. You said I would look great in something like this, so-”

“Wait, you remember that?” You approach her in a fair bit of disbelief. “And this pattern, these colors… Did you…?”

Sara nods. “Yes, my love. I picked them out specifically for you.”

Your lips curl into a huge, dumb smile - just like that of a little boy. “Oh Sara…” 

Her eyes wide with surprise. Did you just smile? 

Before she can have a second thought you kiss her lips, Sara welcoming the affection. Out of breath after a short moment you part, one thing blaring in her mind. 

“You…”

Sara stops herself before she can finish. Your smile persists, radiating a sense of joy she never saw on your features before.

Ultimately, she decides against it. 

“You are too thankful, really. All I did was dress up, after all…”

You shake your head. “No, my love. You don't realize how much this means to me.” You embrace her. “I never fathomed how lucky I am to have such an attentive and loving woman by my side.”

She strokes your back tenderly, a smile of her own gracing her lips. “My love, the same can be said about you. You've done much more for me than I can ever put into words.”

Sara gently pulls away, once again face to face with you. Her hand goes up to your cheek, thumb gently tracing the curve of your beautiful smile. 

“I would do this and so much more time and time again, my love, just to see your beautiful smile.”

No matter what kind of tricks Hu Tao tries on you, you never even as much as smirk at her antics. No joke or situation can make you laugh - but does that mean she will just give up and walk away? You wish! By being so lovable and handsome and wonderful and loving her in return you brought trouble upon yourself, so you better be ready, mister!

Hu Tao rubs her temple, sighs, and readjusts her head on your thighs. 

It was a long day of work, advertisement and her usual shenanigans - scaring the daylights out of Xiangling, trying to get Zhongli to engage in some more modern activities and, of course, trying to get a reaction out of good old you. Despite her best efforts, not once have you broken your usual toned demeanor and went past that polite smile of yours. 

She looks up past the book you’re reading and at your face, bearing the same expression as always. Her eyes trace yours as they jump from line to line, before stopping abruptly. You send her a questioning gaze, but she just shakes her head. 

“It’s nothing, sweetie.” The director replies, and you go back to your lecture. 

Well, she’ll have to try again. And again. And again, though - truth be told - she is running out of ideas. Surprises, scares, pestering… none of what she tried gave any results. 

But maybe this is just how you are? Maybe the lack of expression is your unique feature. Hu Tao’s hand tightens around yours, placed comfortingly on her chest. She closes her eyes, and mumbles.

“You’re worse than Shenhe…”

She can hear you putting down the book, and feel your other hand going up to her hair, giving it a few gentle strokes. 

“Don’t worry about it, Hu.”

You shift, laying down beside her. She snuggles into your arm, letting you envelop her completely. The smell of your freshly washed hoodie fills her nose, prompting her to nuzzle her face right into you. It’s not long before she drifts off. 

When Hu Tao regains sight, the first thing before her eyes is a smile. Your smile. What a nice dream. 

She takes a deep, content breath and closes her eyes again. Her fingers feel your warmth radiating from underneath the fabric of your clothes and hear your steady, deep breathing.  

Hold on. 

Her eyes shoot open and she pulls away. You stir awake, your smile vanishing right away. 

“You did not just…” She gasps. 

“I did not…?” You reply, still hazy from the sleep. 

Hu Tao wiggles free, sitting up. You do the same, startled. She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts. 

“I try so many things, and this is what finally gets you?” She turns her head away from you, pigtails swinging in the air. “Ayia, you’re such a dork.”

There’s a moment of silence. Hu Tao cracks one of her eyes open without turning around, trying to see your reaction. You sigh. 

“Hey, honey-”

“No.”

“Um, sweetie-”

“Nu-uh.”

A moment of hesitation. “Honey bee…?”

“I don’t want to hear it. You disappointed me, Y/N L/N.”

Another moment of dramatic silence. Suddenly, Hu Tao feels your fingers around her sides. 

Her eyes widen and she tries to defend herself, but it’s hopeless. You strike at her with a barrage of well-aimed tickles, instantly making her squeal and wiggle. 

“Ah! Noooo! Come on!” Her body trembles with laughter, arms shooting out to grab your forearms. Before she can even realize her mistake, you’re already at her armpits, causing her to curl into a defensive ball. With little result, of course.

As she pointlessly struggles against your experienced tickling, you hum in a melodic voice. “That’s what you get for being grumpy, little butterfly~”

Hu Tao coughs a few times. All this laughter is making it a bit hard to breathe. 

“Okayyyy, safeword!” She bursts out once again as your hands slide under her t-shirt, mercilessly tickling her belly. “Uh, red! Blue! Orange! Whatever-it-was!”

You finally release her and scooch, giving her space to recover. After a few deep breaths and getting out a few more giggles, she brushes her messed up hair away from her eyes. You stare at each other for a short moment, and it’s then that an idea sparks in her mind. She quickly sits up and moves over, hands placed by her sides and ready to go.  

“Honey? You have a stain on your sleeve, I think. Can you lift up your arms please?”  

You do as she says, and Hu Tao doesn’t give you as much as a single second to think about the blunder you’ve just made. Enough said, she got much more than a single smile out of you that day. 

Thanks for reading!

[lunarriviera]

yet another shen yi meta [uts2 spoilers]

hi hey hello everyone i continue to be tormented with obsessive thinkings about s2 Shen Yi so i must holler about them/him some more, feel free to stop reading if you have not watched through approximately episode 11 which is where i still am. it's taking me longer to watch because i keep pausing to rewind/screenshot and/or weep in anguish about Him and What He Is Going Through. and how NO ONE IS PAYING ATTENTION. or insufficient attention. cf. Ryan Gosling in the Papyrus sketch screaming WELL IT WASN'T!! ENOUGH!!

[more. much more. behind the cut]

let's start here, with shen yi's artwork. in this scene he competed with AI to paint a chosen image and, surprising exactly no one, he won, partly because he's brilliant but tbh mostly because AI art is garbage and always adds dolphins, rainbows, and hands with six fingers.

but here's the thing: is no one going to question this? does anyone think to themselves "ah yes, shen yi is absolutely the BEST person in the world to make a painting in 30 minutes that depicts, quote, a lonely man on a beach." so here is this miserably hunched, despairing figure, surrounded by murky howling early-picasso blue, LOOKING IN FACT QUITE A LOT LIKE SHEN YI HIMSELF—even dressed like him (in the snowy white and dainty pastels he seems to favor this season)—and not a single person thinks: huh, wonder if this guy's okay?

in fact s2 seems to be repeated evidence of the fact that shen yi is Very Much Not Okay, and yet no one is really paying attention. he supports everyone else emotionally and they all seem to assume he either a) has no emotional blowback to deal with, or b) can deal with it himself unaided somehow. (through painting, maybe? but have you seen what he's painting lately? e.g. monstrous abusive parent figures, in some kind of breathless fugue state during which he can psychically hear lines from someone else's traumatic childhood?) he goes to li han's house to help her, which is so like him, and he says:

oh! you might think. well, maybe he will self-disclose a little? tell li han about some of his own personal difficulties that he's had to overcome, just to bond with her, get her to open up? HAHAHA ARE YOU NEW HERE, of course he doesn't, he just listens to her while she sobs out her tragic backstory, gives her a tissue, relates her struggles to a vaguely terrifying metaphor of his own device about a sealed room filling up ineluctably with floodwater, then smiles and takes her out for pizza. (totally unrelated but wow the product placement is heavy-handed this season. xiaomi! pizza hut!)

since we're talking about the li han case, consider this moment, too, when he interprets someone's house-person-tree drawing. does no one ever think, "for someone who talks constantly about love and connection, how interesting that shen yi has no family, refuses to date in very pointed and deliberate way, and lives alone with a cat."

shen yi knows all about love! never shuts up about love! constantly dispensing bromides about what real love should be like! and wakes every day ALONE from horrific guilty nightmares ft. creepy small girl in blood-red dress, pls will no one help this man pls he's drowning.

couple more bits and then i swear to god i'll shut up i'm starting to feel really stupid. but first consider this little story, in three parts:

"an image of despair" um okay well…technically it's just a dead body, albeit after a fairly grisly stabbing, but sure go off i guess

2. du cheng: wow even for you that was unusually poetic and weird

3. also du cheng: back to investigating the murder i guess [wanders away]

this kind of thing happens again. and again. either no one notices assorted horrified/devastated expressions on shen yi's face (in the way of classic extradiegetic reaction shots, where the camera sees them—we see them—but none of the characters onscreen do) or, when du cheng does notice, he's immediately distracted by his actual job, and/or the fact that he doesn't really know how to help his partner, because lbr he has all the emotional intelligence of a pony.

one more mini-story in three parts, and then i really will put a sock in it:

shen yi: why, what did i do. why are you looking at me like that

2. du cheng: bc you just lied your whole entire face off with alarming unsettling proficiency, since when are you that good at being dishonest

3. shen yi: hehe

in an earlier episode we also saw shen yi shouting at a suspect in the interrogation room, so convincingly that afterwards du cheng admits, you scared me. lol! says shen yi in carefree manner, i learned that from you! haha! agrees everyone, and they go about their business.

but ghastly things keep happening to and near him. at least once per episode, shen yi makes a face like this, because people are jumping off cliffs in front of him or abruptly smashing things with hammers or just lashing out with all kinds of antisocial behaviors in his vicinity:

to be fair, he has other expressions. for instance he also repeatedly employs his patented creepy ruthless smile, of the "i am going to fuck you up" variety, an expression reserved especially for criminals:

as well, i'm also leaving out all the ridiculously adorable/domestic scenes with him and du cheng, in which they share candy, roast each other about assorted nonsense, briefly co-parent a child, and, you know. are just generally disgustingly married. but that's a different meta.

also, admittedly du cheng does SAY things. he says, "are you still having trouble sleeping," he says "do i not care about you?" and "don't push yourself so hard" and "if you run into troubles, don't try to take them on alone." (i am sparing you all these screenshots since this is a meta about shen yi but trust me i have carefully accumulated every single shred of evidence in which du cheng is protective.) but, as frequently as du cheng expresses concern, he also just keeps clapping shen yi on the shoulder in a brotastic way and then strolling out. which i fear is just not going to be adequate. ("i don’t think this is literally papyrus. maybe that was the starting point but they clearly modified it?" "well whatever they did, IT WASN'T!! ENOUGH!!")

i leave you with two final images of shen yi, seen here continuing to be very much Not Okay, and to quote the bernie meme, i am ONCE AGAIN ASKING YOU, drama, is anyone going to care enough about this man to stop him going over the edge of the cliff with Evil Art Critic Eugenicist Moriarty Weasel Man? because he will, he will do it. because he's lonely and he's misunderstood and he's—

[cane comes out and drags me offstage]

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Do you think that the whole cake island would be the first place sanji and nijis fiancé darling meet?. Or did he know about her/see her during his childhood but was never permitted to speak to her because of his status as the weakest Prince. And potentially causing possible issues with the political alliance if it looked like judge was going to offer a betrothal with the noble girl/princess and his weakest child as that would be considered a insult

Initially, I had planned for that to be their first meeting, but this ask quickly made me considered the other option and it spiraled out of control from there. Here is the result.

I decided to use (y/n) instead the the name established throughout the au since this was supposed to be a reader insert originally. I apologize for any inaccuracies that there may be in this. I haven't gotten to this arc yet, so I'm just working off of random spoilers and wikis.

Confrontations and Complications

Sanji x Princess Reader

2.9k words

warnings: implied afab reader, this is straight up angst no comfort

Heels click loudly against the floor as you run through the quiet hallways. The skirt of your dress and your petticoats were bunched up in your fists to prevent you from tripping. There was no telling how long of a window you would have to do this, and you refused to miss your chance at this.

Niji became distracted at the perfect moment for you to slip away undetected, and Reiju had given her word that she would do her best to redirect him should he notice your absence. While you and Reiju weren’t on the friendliest terms as of late, she appeared to be acting in your best interest for the time being. It was debatable how trustworthy she truly was, but you were willing to take the risk in this one instance.

This was of the utmost importance.

The flurry of clicks from your shoes slow as the door you’ve been searching for comes into view, then eventually comes to a complete halt. You pant as you catch your breath and stare at the door. You make a hasty attempt to fix your clothes and hair, then straighten your tiara that had been bouncing freely on your head as you ran. After all of this time, you didn’t want to look unkempt when he saw you.

Steeling yourself with one last deep breath, you grasp the knob and open the door.

Sitting at a small table and absentmindedly flicking a lighter on and off was just the man you were hoping to see. Reiju had not led you astray with her directions. The man, Vinsmoke Sanji, looked startled at your sudden intrusion and was staring at you questioningly.

Oh. In your haste to confirm that this was, in fact, his room, it had slipped your mind to knock and you had just let yourself in. How unlike you.

“Can… Can I help you, miss?” Sanji removed the smoked down nub of a cigarette from his mouth and snubbed it out in a shockingly full ashtray before reaching for the cigarette pack on the table. His exposed eye kept darting back to you while waiting for an answer.

Ah. So he did not recognize you… This fact pained you, but it wasn’t wholly surprising. It has been a very long time since your last meeting. You swallow thickly and step the rest of the way into his room before closing the door behind you, “Please forgive me for barging into your accommodation. I was so overcome with emotion that I forgot my manners.”

Sanji offered a small, but noticeably forced smile, “No need to apologize. I would never complain over being sought out by such a lovely woman. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We have.” You inch closer to him while wringing your hands nervously. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain that it had nothing to do with your previous exertion. “Though I do not blame you for not recognizing me. The last time that I was in your company, we were mere children sneaking into a kitchen to prepare a lunch for your dear mother.”

The fresh cigarette that was dangling from Sanji’s lips falls onto the table as he stares at you with a wide eye. He is momentarily slack jawed before he finds it in himself to whisper out your name.

A genuine smile spreads across your face as you see the recognition in his eyes. “Yes, Sanji. It’s me, (Y/N).”

In an instant, Sanji is up and out of his seat. He stumbles a bit from tripping over the leg of the table, then comes to a halt in front of you. His hands reach forward, then pause, unsure of whether or not he should touch you. You take the decision out of his hands and quickly close the gap. Your arms wrap around his middle in a tight hug, which he returns after only a brief moment of hesitation.

The harsh and overpowering scent of tobacco stings at your nose as you rest your face on his shoulder, but you wouldn’t dare complain over something so trivial. Not when you were experiencing such a foreign rush of joy and relief. 

With much reluctance, you force yourself to pull away first. Sanji held you a beat longer, but acquiesced to your action. His hands traced up and settled on your shoulders. The baby blue eye that wasn’t obscured flitted across your face, seemingly taking in every detail.

“I can’t believe it’s really you… I never thought I would see you again,” Sanji speaks to you in a hushed reverence that encourages your heart to feel ways that you know very well that it should not be given the current circumstances.

Your own hands are settled on his waist, not quite wanting to sever the physical connection. You offer him a half-hearted smile, “I could say the same for you. Prior to the last week, I believed you to be dead.” Your gloved hands clutch at his shirt, no doubt wrinkling it. A rude action, truly, but the only thing restraining you from cradling his face like you so desire. “I cannot quite put into words how relieving it is to see you alive and well.”

Sanji purses his lips and breaks the eye contact between you. He releases your shoulders and steps back, prompting you to relinquish your hold on him as well. It takes everything you have to not match every step he takes with one of your own. He heaves a sigh while reaching for his dropped cigarette, “I’m sorry. If there had been a way for me to let you know that I was okay, I would have done that in a heartbeat.”

“Oh, no!” The words come out so strongly and with so much force that it startles even you. You take a breath, then continue at a much calmer tone, “Please don’t misunderstand. I am not begrudging you for this. There are certainly people to blame, but you are not amongst them.”

A small smile is the reward for your clarification. Sanji flicks his lighter to life to ignite his cigarette. He takes a long drag of it, then exhales it. “Thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Hush, I am not. Dare I say, you could benefit from more kindness.” Everyone could, but you did not care about everyone right now.

Sanji chuckles, though it’s distinctly lacking any real humor. “You haven’t changed a bit since we were kids. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

The silence that fell over you as he puffed away at his cigarette was neither comfortable, nor tense. So many things were left unsaid, and Sanji appeared to be content to leave it that way. You itched to ask him countless questions. How did he escape Germa? Where has he been this whole time? What was it like being part of such a notorious pirate crew? With so many queries running through your mind, it felt impossible to choose just one.

“What are you doing on Whole Cake Island, anyway? I didn’t think your family was close enough with Big Mom to be invited to a wedding.”

In an instant, your heart leaps up into your throat and you balk. This was precisely the topic you had hoped to avoid. Both for your own comfort, as well as his own. Ignorance is bliss, and you wanted him to know peace.

Unfortunately, your silence successfully attracts his attention. He turns to face you fully, and you can feel his eye boring into you despite the fact that you’re staring at the floor. “(Y/N)... Why are you here?” The thinly veiled urgency in his voice indicated that he was already coming to his own conclusions.

“I’m… here with my fiance,” the volume of your voice decrescendos with each word until ‘fiance’ comes out at a barely audible whisper.

It is unclear at first if the silence that followed was brought on by shock, or if Sanji simply hadn’t heard you. You get your answer shortly when he asks a quick and straightforward question.

“Who?”

Answering this was significantly more trying than explaining why you were here. You still couldn’t meet his eye, and you were grateful that he wasn’t forcing you to. There was no way to dance around or sugarcoat who it was. As much as you knew that he wouldn’t like the truth, he deserved to hear it.

“Niji.”

From your peripheral vision, you could see his cigarette hit the floor. Before you could be alarmed about the rug catching to fire, it was snuffed out under Sanji’s foot as he rapidly closed the gap that he had once made. His hands find purchase on your shoulders again, though he’s far less gentle this time. If it weren’t for the ironclad grip he had on you, you’re certain that you would have toppled over from the strength he took hold of you with. You’re forced to look up at him and take in his expression. The eye that you can see is wide with a shrunken pupil. The color in his skin has paled noticeably, and his mouth hangs open as his breath comes out in frantic pants.

His hands tighten around your shoulders more as he spits out an accusation laden in desperation, “You’re lying.”

Oh, how you wish you were. How you wish that there wasn’t an engagement ring weighing down your ring finger. But that simply isn’t reality. You hold up your left hand, actively ignoring the way it trembled under the intensity of Sanji’s gaze. His eye zeros in on the gleaming, blue jewel that was the centerpiece of your ring.

The sight of it repelled him. You were released from his touch once more as he backed away until he crashed into the table, effectively tipping it over and sending it crashing to the ground. The ashtray that had been sitting on it flew and rolled across the floor, spreading cigarette butts and ash everywhere, but Sanji paid it no mind.

“No… no, no, no! You can’t be serious! Niji?!” His raised voice startled you. While you had been anticipating a poor reaction, this was far worse than you ever would have guessed. His hands shot up and threaded through his hair. The way that he pulled on it had to be painful, and you held out your hand to try and coax him into letting go, but then he evaded you by beginning to pace. His steps were quick and forceful, the soles of his shoes making more noise than your heels had made when you were running to get here.

As much as you wanted to speak, it was beyond you what there even was to say that would soothe him.

Sanji abruptly spun around to face you again, making you flinch. He all but ran to you and took your hands in his, pulling you towards him so hard that you almost crashed into him. He speaks in a frantic but hushed tone, “You need to leave.”

“I… I beg your pardon?”

“You need to leave now. It isn’t safe for you to stay here.” His head snaps to the side and he lets go of your hand briefly to slam the window shut before grasping it again. “I need you to listen to me. My cr- My former crew is here. They will be more than happy to take you away and keep you safe. I’m not sure how I’ll get you to them yet, but I promise you that I won’t rest until you’re under their protection.”

All that you can do is stare at him. Your heart is thudding in your chest, but an undeniable warmth is spreading through it as well. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought that this could happen. You squeeze his hands and speak breathlessly, “You wish to run away together?”

Sanji freezes at your words. His mouth opens and closes several times, and then he averts his eyes, “I can’t do that. This is just for you.”

You rip your hands away from his and step away. “What? What are you talking about?”

The way he looks at you as if you’re clueless infuriates you. He speaks slowly as he explains himself, “I’m getting married to Pudding. I’m sure that you know that.”

This explanation leaves you appalled, you all but shriek at him, “You’re actually going through with that?!” The entire reason that you were so desperate to have this meeting in the first place was because you had assumed that he would leave with his crew before the wedding could occur.

Your shouting startles Sanji, giving him a quick moment of pause. He clears his throat before doing his best to speak in a calm and assertive tone. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I? Our marriage will be a good thing.”

Hearing him say this breaks you. All grace and decorum is forgotten in your outburst. “A good thing?! Nothing good can come from marrying someone like Pudding!”

While you generally tried to be kind and gracious to everyone, you were unable to grant Pudding the same courtesy. Not after you became privy to her true feelings towards Sanji when you overheard a conversation between her and a few of her siblings. The way she spoke of Sanji was as maddening as it was sickening. It took all of your self control to not burst into the room and demand that she trade her fiance for your own if she disliked him so much.

Maybe you should have. 

“Pudding is a lovely woman… And the marriage is good for political reasons as well.” Sanji was refusing to meet your enraged gaze, which only fueled the fire within you.

A sarcastic bark of laughter escaped you. “A lovely woman?! She’s a spoiled brat who doesn’t understand how fortunate she is!” That girl had everything that a woman could hope for in a political marriage, and she had the audacity to look down on her betrothed as if he wasn’t worthy of so much as breathing the same air as her. 

When Sanji only stared at you with a shocked expression, it made all of the hideous emotions that you had been suppressing up to this point bubble to the surface and boil over.

“That girl has it all, and she can’t even be grateful for it! She won’t have to put up with her husband lusting over everyone but her! She won’t have to be little more than a mere obligation to her husband! She won’t just be used to bring about a new generation of living weapons!” 

You fall silent as the words settle into the air, thickening the atmosphere until it became difficult to breathe. Hot tears begin to pour down your face in a shameful display. You turn away from Sanji as raw, pained sobs wrack through you.

“(Y/N)...”

Sanji stepped towards you and rested a hand on your shoulder, but you ripped away from him as if his touch burned you. The last thing that you wanted was his pity. You hastily dabbed at your eyes with a handkerchief as you hurried to the door, but Sanji put himself between you and the exit.

“Please, (Y/N)... I know you don’t like it, but you need to leave without me. You have no idea how much danger you’ll be in if you stay.” His face and tone are equally pleading. His hands reach towards you once more, but halt just before making contact.

“I am many things, but please don’t think me naive, Sanji… I know precisely what is expected of me in my marriage.” Every word out of your mouth is bitter and laced with contempt.

“Then why are you being so stubborn? I know that you don’t want this.” Sanji is visibly exasperated. 

“The better question is: Why are you being so stubborn? You are not compelled to do this like I am! You have an entire crew that is willing to fight for you, yet you’re refusing their help!” You exhale and shake your head, “You are almost as ungrateful as Pudding, perhaps you two are meant to be after all.”

“This is not as simple and straightforward as you think it is. There is much more going on… It’s better for everyone if I go through with this.”

Your hands ball up into fists at your sides and you snap at him, “Oh, what a martyr you are! How brave! How proud!” Having finally had enough, you fully abandon etiquette and shove Sanji out of your way. You grasp the doorknob, but rather than leaving, you decide that you have one last sentiment to tack on. “Martyrdom is the coward’s choice! If you really care for the people in your life, you will fight to be with them, not sacrifice yourself at the first opportunity!”

With that, you wrench open the door and slam it behind you the second you’re out of the room. You take off down the hall with no clear destination, only desiring to put as much distance between yourself and Sanji as reasonably possible.

Despite what you had said, you realize that you were actually quite naive. It was foolish to have ever believed that this meeting would have gone any better than it did.

[shadowdaddies]

Always Yours

Azriel x Reader angst to fluff

A/N: okay this is the alternate end to Never Yours, based on this request where reader and Az have a happy ending. The story is the same up until the cut, and that's where it changes. This is still quite angsty so please read the warnings.💜

Warnings: drinking, drugging/vomitting as a result, attempted SA

Azriel had been gone on mission for weeks, leaving your heart aching, empty and alone. You tried to be understanding of his role as spymaster, supporting and encouraging him when he would leave you in Velaris. Over the past year with tensions growing between courts, you and Azriel had spent more time apart than together. A dichotomy of emotions was consuming you, the loathing you felt towards him for abandoning you so often battling how deeply you missed him. 

It was another lonely day in your home, holding back tears while you cleaned the house as a pathetic attempt at distracting yourself. A knock on the door stirred you from your eddying thoughts, and you set down the cleaning supplies, wiping your tears as you looked through the peephole. A head of long blonde hair appeared through the lens, and you sighed, unlocking the door as it opened to reveal Morrigan on the other side. 

Forcing yourself to reciprocate her cheery smile, you held the door wider as the perky female bounded into the room, curls bouncing behind her. “Get dressed. We’re going out to Rita’s tonight,” she announced as she waltzed past you towards your bedroom.

Opening up the armoire, Mor pulled out a low-cut sleeveless black dress, tossing it onto the bed before moving towards the jewelry box on your dresser. Sighing, you sat down on the bed, playing with the silky fabric of the garment. It felt wrong, going to Rita’s without Azriel. It felt wrong letting yourself have any fun while he was risking his life to keep your court safe.

“I don’t know, Mor. I would just rather stay in tonight,” you uttered in a defeated voice, dropping the dress skirt back onto the bed. 

Oblivious to your misery, Mor whipped around, a beautiful necklace and matching earring in her hands as she approached you. “None of that. You and I are going out for a girls’ night, and we’re going to have fun. You do remember what that word means, don’t you?” she teased, her hair tickling your neck as she reached around to clasp the necklace on you. 

You chewed your lip, staring at the dress as you deliberated your options. “Just one drink,” Mor spoke, softer this time, eyes wide with sincerity. 

A small yet genuine smile made its way to your lips at that. “Just one drink,” you agreed, stripping your shirt as you changed into the outfit she’d laid out. 

Mor squealed with excitement, helping you get ready before you left for the bar. It was a crowded night, a sea of new faces in the crowd that you observed from where you stood at the bar. It had been so long since you’d been around this many people - the lights, the music, the crowd - and you were suddenly overcome with nerves. 

Knocking back the drink that Mor had ordered for you, you flagged down the bartender for another, finishing that one quickly as well. You were feeling the effects of the drink by the time you dragged Mor to the dance floor, feeling giggly and light for the first time in ages. 

A striking female caught Mor’s eye, and you laughed as you nudged your friend towards the part of the floor where the other female stood. “Go talk to her, I’m going to grab some water,” you whisper-shouted into her ear over the music. Mor nodded, the two of you parting ways as you escaped the sweaty, writhing bodies on the dance floor in search of the bar.

The place was even more crowded than before, the bartender now slammed with drink orders as you failed to flag him down for a water. Feeling a warm presence at your back, you turned to see a tall male, dark curls falling in his brown eyes as he smiled down at you. Only after blinking several times did you confirm that this was not Azriel, but a handsome stranger whose hand now rested on the small of your back.

It had been so long since anyone had touched you like this, and you found yourself leaning into his warmth, a smile gracing your lips when he leaned down, whispering into your ear. “Can I get you something to drink?” he spoke in a husky voice, thick with desire that had heat pooling between your legs. Feeling tipsy and eager for something to quench your thirst from dancing, you simply nodded, thanking the male as the bartender brought over a drink for you that was definitely not water.

The room was spinning, and you clutched onto the male at your side, melting into his warmth as broad arms wrapped around you. A soft laugh sounded at your ear, the words coming out distorted as someone whispered comforting words in your ear. 

The scent of pine filled your nose, Azriel smelling slightly different than usual as you burrowed into his chest. A hand found your chin, tilting you up to see a blurred face. You were focusing hard, vision coming to just enough to realize that this was not Azriel. You pushed the male away, your arms weak, movements sluggish.

A shout sounded from your side, blonde hair in a whirl as the man fell to ground, blood pouring from his nose. You stumbled forward, Mor’s embrace catching you before leaning you back against the counter. 

“What were you thinking?” She yelled, holding your face in her hands, a rage unlike which you’d seen from her before in her eyes. Your vision turned spotty, breathing becoming difficult before your stomach lurched, everything in your stomach emptying onto Mor and the ground. 

The scent was strong, Mor’s eyes flaring as she recognized the wrongness of the drink. Your head lolled back against the bar as Mor flagged down Rita, telling her everything. City sentries detained the male, the last thing you saw before your vision faded completely.

You awoke the next morning, your head pounding as you squinted against the light pouring through the window. You heard the rustling of clothing from the other side of the bed, panicking at who the intruder might be. But when you turned over, your heart nearly burst with joy at the sight of Azriel, changing out of his leathers and into sleeping clothes.

Hazel eyes flashed to yours, deep with sorrow and red from tears. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, voice shaking as he stood there, frozen.

“I’m glad that you did,” you spoke, a cough erupting in your throat at the dryness there. Azriel rushed to your bedside table, grabbing a glass of water as he guided it to your lips. 

“I rushed home as soon as I received word from Rhys. Mor told me what happened at Rita’s last night. I am so, so sorry that I wasn’t there for you,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours as salty tears dripped onto the bedsheets.

“It’s okay, Azriel. I am okay.” You sniffled, heart twisting with the words you wanted to say instead. Pulling back, you looked into his eyes - beautiful, hazel eyes - as you brushed a black curl from his face. “That’s not true. I’m not okay, Azriel. I need you here. I’ve tried to be strong, but I am not whole without you. And I know that that’s selfish but-“

Azriel cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, a smile breaking out across his perfect face. “My love, I am not going anywhere. Now, or ever. We had Madja look you over last night after the incident.” He paused, reaching down for your hands as he pressed kisses all along the backs of them. “We’re having a baby.”

Your world stopped turning in that moment, pure awe written across your features as you dared to smile up at Azriel. “What do you mean? How?”

Azriel smiled. “Well, I think you know how that happens, but I’m happy to show you if you need a reminder.”

With a giggle, you pushed him playfully. Hope filled your veins, giving you new life that you hadn’t felt in too long. “A baby?”

Azriel pulled you close, the scent of chilled mist and cedar giving you comfort as you leaned into his touch, savoring the feel of his lips brushing your forehead. “I’ve talked to Rhys. We’ll be re-delegating roles in the Court so that I can be here, where I am needed. With my family.”

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

CH.28 (Red Dragon)

I'm sure nothing will go wrong from here on out! :)

Okay, but she worked hard using illegal magic! She deserves this! I support women's rights, and women's wrongs.

Oh. Oh I see.

Is THAT what the kids are calling it these days...?

File that under 'foreshadowing I'm sure will come back to haunt us all later'.

Ah, yes. Tell your cleric girlfriend about your forbidden wizardry. Or don't. Actually. Maybe don't.

distract, discombobulate, overcome. Eyes up...there... Falin....

YOU DIDN'T ERASE IT YET???? MARCILLE, THE PLOT--!!

No bag of holding, huh? Well, I guess you'd need a bag of colding....

At this point, the fact that Chillchuck is still... well... chill? Is really shocking to me personally. He just takes it all in stride.

She did it for love, you guys! It's fine!

"My motives are noble! Anyway, if you ever tell a soul about this--"

uh oh.

Senshi, how could you not have known?!?!

Do we have to resurrect you too now?! Is Marcille's list of crimes going to just keep going up?

oh, apparently not. Why does SHE look surprised?

I guess when you create a body for your girlfriend using a dragon, which is inherently magical.... you kinda supercharge her?

Congrats on your easy bake oven! It's conveniently made of... meat?

So... it's philly steak sandwiches? From dragon?

I mean, what did you expect? She's Laios' sister... of course she'll eat it.

Also, come on Marcille. Several hours ago you were elbows deep in dragon gut, doing a 3D jigsaw puzzle with her digested bones. You can stomach this.

Just think of it as Falin being partially inside you................

I damn well told you. And look at Laios' smirk! He knew she'd be down.

Chilldadchuck is back at it again with the side eye.

He's not even impressed lmaooooo

B-but... but your little buddy! You would drown it just like that?! It hasn't even done anything malicious to you! It was just trying to survive!

..............Press X to doubt.

You know the uh. The contrast between that upper left panel and the bottom right is. Quite. Quite there. That's quite. Different.

ohohohoh Marcille what an unexpected turn of events! No way around it I'm afraid! Bed sharing is the only way.

This is the strongest display of emotion we've seen in Laios in a while. It's. really so telling. And what a good shot.

YOU DIDN'T FUCKING ERASE IT?!?!?!? HOW HARD COULD IT HAVE POSSIBLY BEEN--WHY-- NOOOOO!!!!!

[flightfoot]

Could you recommend good written rarepair fics?

Sure! I don't know what you qualify as rarepair, so I'll use my old standby of "everything that isn't Lovesquare". I've got a lot of these to recommend, so I'll split it up by ship, unless there's only one fic in the pairing, in which case I'll dump it at the end.

I've split this up by pairing. If I have multiple fics to rec for a pairing, I'll give it its own category, if not, then it goes into the "one-offs" category at then end.

I have categories for Adrino, Marigami, MarcNath, Lukadrien, Julerose, Chlobrina, DJWifi, Alyanette, and FeLuka, in that order.

---

Adrino:

Within Your Heart by Inkyibis

It’s Valentine’s Day and Ladybug just wants to her superhero partner to find his love. And what she wants, the Lucky Charm will create. If only she could remember what it is she did last night.

Adrino fic here! Marinette’s drunk and feeling awful that her superhero partner is alone on Valentine’s (she’s in a loving and committed relationship with Alya), so she creates a Lucky Charm to help Chat find love! In this universe, Ladybug’s Lucky Charms have the power to create new rules for the universe to follow, such as making one that demands that if you have any magic in you, you have to tell the truth or else you’ll freeze. Or in Adrien’s case, that he has to wake up in the arms of his true love every day XD. It’s very sweet and I love both Adrien’s and Nino’s relationship, and the relationship between the rest of the Miracuteam members as well, even though that’s not the focus.

---

I’ll give myself a name (something stupid and pretentious) by @bbutterflies

Nino looked at the number and didn’t recognize it. Usually he wouldn’t answer, but he had nothing better to do – and could still really use a distraction – so he did. “Hello?”

“Hey, Nino.”

Nino stood up quickly, chest tightening. He knew that voice. He’d been waiting to hear it again for over two years. “Adrien?” he whispered.

“Yeah. It’s me."

-

When Monarch is defeated (and revealed to be Gabriel Agreste), Chat Noir immediately goes missing. Adrien disappears not long after. When Adrien finally shows up in Paris again, Nino would do anything to make sure he doesn't disappear again.

Ah this is lovely, Adrien’s been in a lot of emotional turmoil since Monarch’s defeat, convinced that everyone would hate him, SHOULD hate him, for not realizing that his father was the villain, and should hate him even more for disappearing like he does. But slowly Marinette and Nino get through to him, convince him that they just want him back. 

And also Adrien and Nino smooch. Multiple times. So that’s a bonus XD.

---

Would Trust You With Everything by @kasienda

Nino breaks off, tears streaking down his face. Adrien wishes he was here as himself instead of Chat so he could offer a hug.

“It’s not like I don’t think she deserved her privacy. It’s just it felt like I was her last priority. And if I knew why, then maybe we could overcome it. But when I don’t, I’m not willing to be her last thought. You know? I always put her first.”

“Yeah,” Chat agrees, able to relate too well. He always put Ladybug first too, and he’s not sure it has ever been the same for her. “I’m sorry you’ve been so alone through this."

“I haven’t been totally alone,” Nino disagrees, holding up his phone. “My best friend has been keeping me company virtually most of the day.”

“Yeah? It helped?”

“I don’t know if any of the stuff he sent helped, but like, given what I know he’s up to, he totally had to move heaven and earth to talk to me so much, and that really helped. You know, just knowing that someone was thinking of me.”

“I’m glad,” Chat Noir said. “I wish he could be there in person for you.”

Nino sighs. “Yeah, me too, but at least you’re here."

...

Season 4 au - canon divergent from Rocketear Rocketear led to DJWiFi breakup.

Ahh, Adrino my beloved XD. I love the identity shenanigans in this one with Adrien being around Nino as both Adrien and Chat Noir, and both of them vaguely describing their situations to each other. It takes Adrien a bit to figure out that he has a crush on Nino, but once he does...

---

The moment I knew (I’d no choice but to love you) by @bbutterflies

“He’s dating me,” Nino said, taking Adrien’s hand in his own.

Adrien could only stare back at him in shock.

“How dare you all force him to come out?” Nino continued, glaring at the reporters. “That was disgusting.” He pulled Adrien over to the car, guided him in, and shut the door behind them.

In the relative quiet and privacy of the backseat, Adrien finally processed what had just happened. “So… when were you going to tell me we were dating?”

This Adrino fic is delicious XD. Reporters keep hounding Adrien about his love life, so Nino finally gets them off Adrien’s back by fake-dating him. Problem is, Adrien’s actually been madly in love with Nino for years but has never been able to tell him. And now as they’re spending more time together, Nino’s beginning to find that he’s enjoying all these “couple” activities more than maybe he ought to if it’s entirely platonic...

If you want to see Adrien and Nino PINING for each other while “fake” dating (is it really fake if both parties want it to be real?) then you’ve come to the right fic!

---

Chemistry With Him by @bbutterflies

It kind of sucked Nino was taking chemistry, but classes had filled up fast and he needed to take something and his advisor had said the credits would, somehow, count towards his major. It really sucked he was taking it first thing on a Monday morning (and Wednesdays, and Fridays, unfortunately). But he could get through it. He knew he could.

So no more boys. No distractions. He could do this all on his own.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

Nino looked up to find the source of the voice. A blond, green-eyed, absolutely beautiful someone.

Okay. Maybe one distraction.

Ah, adorable Adrino. This is a universe where Adrien never went to public school, so while Chat Noir, Ladybug, Carapace, and Rena Rouge all know each other (and Marinette, Alya, and Nino all know each other’s identities) they’re unaware that they are all already friends with Adrien. I loved seeing Chat and Carapace excitedly tell each other about their awesome crush/boyfriend, not knowing they were talking about each other XD.

---

Awaken by InkyIbis

The previously white butterfly, now oozing black and purple as a conduit of the butterfly miraculous powers, flutters softly within the silvered-gloved hand.

It sits there for a long time.

"Go, my akuma," The soft sigh pushes the butterfly, the akuma, out towards the despair of a love not returned. The same ache within his chest. On a level so great that he's willing to sacrifice the city to mend it.

It's okay if he's the villain for now. He'll force the miraculous of creation and destruction to be revealed, and once he gets his hands on them, none of this pain, none of his loss, will ever happen.

This is essentially a canon rewrite for Miraculous (specifically seasons 1 and 2, with a bunch of the events mixed around) that focuses primarily on Adrien, with his relationship with Nino being the main driving relationship of the fic. (Don’t worry, Marinette’s still treated fine, she’s just not the focus). This is the best “rewrite Miraculous with more of a focus on Adrien” type fic I’ve seen, with it reworking the plots of the episodes so that they’re different enough to be their own distinct thing - it’s not trying to just rewrite the canon episodes but from Adrien’s POV, there’s a lot of lore changes going on as well, and things occur in different orders.

Like lorewise, Chat’s given a more important role in cleaning up the mess the akumas leave, with his power helping to cleanse akuma victims and he and Ladybug needing to use their powers in tandem in order to cast Miraculous Ladybug. There’s also no Miracle Box holding the kwamis. Instead, Chat sometimes surpasses his limits and ends up summoning kwamis, which is dangerous to him, but very useful.

What really makes this fic great though, is its focus on Adrien’s emotions. You really get a feel for Adrien’s insecurities, especially when it comes to not feeling like he’s good enough for Nino, with not wanting to bother him when he absolutely should, with feeling like he’s not a good enough friend to him, and then there’s dealing with all of Gabriel’s usual abuse on top of that.

Speaking of Nino, this is an Adrino fic (though several characters get crushes on Adrien, Nino’s the one who matters most for this), though a slowburn one. Nino’s clearly head-over-heels for Adrien, but Adrien has like, no context for what a romantic crush feels like and is basically viewing Nino the way he viewed Marinette in canon prior to season 5. He clearly cares for him a lot, including romantically, he just... doesn’t get it.

Anyway, if you want an interesting canon rewrite fic from Adrien’s perspective with Adrino as the main pairing, this is a good story to pick up!

---

If I hold you too close by @bbutterflies

Paris didn’t come to a screeching halt for akumas anymore. They were so commonplace, so frequent, no one stopped their lives unless they were in danger. They trusted the heroes to fix everything if something did go wrong, save them if they got hurt. Adrien was still fighting the urge to find Plagg and go running into battle. Plagg wasn’t here, though. --- Post-season 5 where Adrien got sent to London sooner and gave up his Miraculous to keep Paris safe.

If you know this author, then you've probably already guessed that this is an Adrino fic (seriously if you like Adrino, check out bbutterflies fics, though honestly if you ARE an Adrino fan, you probably already have).

So in this scenario, Adrien was sent to London and didn't get to return, so he gave Plagg the ring so he could find another Holder. In this case, Nino. After a few years, once he's an adult, Adrien manages to come back from London, but he's in ROUGH shape. He drinks a lot, he has a reputation for partying hard and causing disruptions, and is really depressed and hates himself, and hates Felinoir (Nino's Black Cat form) even more, for having what he lost.

But even while Adrien's pushing everyone away to protect himself, his old friends refuse to give up on him, even though he's given up on himself.

While Adrien's problems are the primary focus of the fic, they're not the entire focus. Nino gets a POV, and he has personal issues and insecurities of his own. He has trouble holding down relationships, he doesn't have a lot of close friends these days, and he's struggling to keep up in school with all the akumas he's had to fight. He and Ladybug are fine coworkers, but they aren't much more than that - they aren't friends like Chat Noir and Ladybug were.

Oh, also, Nino's a transman. That's also caused some issues in making and keeping friends.

It's a beautiful story of one person hitting rock-bottom and gradually being pulled back out of it again, until they can stand on their own and push themselves up the rest of the way, and of a friend who discovers their childhood best friend (and crush) has changed enormously since they last saw them, and not in good ways - only to find that their friend is, at their core, still there. They just need help seeing it themselves.

---

Marigami:

Plans Aren’t Everything by BeeRye

Feeling a bit fed up with constantly having her dates with Marinette cut short, Kagami sets aside some time in order to plan the perfect outing for the two of them. Despite being the holder of the Miraculous of the Black Cat, she believes one day of romance isn’t too much to ask for. As long as she treats it all like she does everything else in her life, the results she wants should come to pass. She doesn’t quite know what to do if that ends up not being the case.

This was adorable and captured Kagami’s mindset well, she decided, rather optimistically that she could just brute force the date into going well. Unfortunately, that’s not gonna stop Hawk Moth. Fortunately, Marinette has her own back-up plans…

---

Anchor by @liiinerle

“Marinette. Please take that sabre out of your neck.” “Right. Thanks. I forgot it was there.” She grabbed hold of the guard and pulled; the blade slid out like it had only been run through butter. After dropping it on the floor, she picked up one of the teacups and picked up a biscuit from a tin she’d brought in; she placed the biscuit on the saucer plate and handed the whole thing to Kagami, who could only really resign herself to accepting it. —– Marinette has raised Kagami from the dead, and also happens to be dead herself. It turns out some bad choices were made in the past. But that doesn’t mean they’ll lead to bad outcomes for them now.

I love this, Marinette’s incredibly blase about being a zombie - which makes sense, given how long she’s had to get used to the idea. And she’s waited so long, tried so hard to bring Kagami back as well, though if she didn’t WANT to be back, she’d accede to that request. Luckily, Kagami doesn’t seem to mind as long as she’s with Marinette XD.

---

Galaxy In Your Eyes by @liiinerle

Arriving in Paris, Kagami almost immediately finds herself assaulted by a dark, infectious butterfly. When she wakes up, a ladybug-themed superhero is standing over her, and her eyes are like holes into an empty, vast, and incredibly alluring universe… An AU where the two main Miraculous function differently from the norm.

Nice Marigami fic here! Or should I say, Ladygami - technically Marinette doesn’t exist, only Ladybug, who’s an immortal creation goddess, or something like that. But she still fights to protect Paris from Hawk Moth alongside Chat Noir, who is still a normal, squishy human underneath the suit.

Anyway, there’s a but of inspiration from Nimona here, with a lot of people being scared of Ladybug because she’s a bit… out there, especially when she shapeshifts to have like, 6 extra arms and a lobster tail. Kagami’s into it though XD

---

Accidents Are Also Miracles by @liiinerle

After a few turbulent days where four new people discover her secret identity, Marinette loses faith in her ability to keep the secret hidden. Wracked with doubts and insecurities, she pleads with Alya to take over as Scarabella, but she still can't let those worries go. Especially not once Monarch starts taking a particular, and personal, interest in her.

Along the way, she also starts to date Kagami, and has to deal with changing feelings about herself, Adrien, Alya, Kagami, and the idea of being Ladybug. At the same time, Alya works to uncover Monarch's secret identity, while Kagami struggles against a controlling parent, and a girlfriend who seems bent on destroying herself - with or without Monarch's involvement.

Fantastic Marigami fic here! You’ve got three major POVs in this fic: Marinette, Kagami, and to my delight, Alya. I loved getting to see Alya cope with taking over as Scarabella especially.

But of course, this fic centers more around Marinette and Kagami, with Marinette struggling with Monarch targeting her, and Kagami struggling against her abusive parent, as well as both of them trying to navigate their relationship together when they know that not everyone will approve. 

There’s also some other plots going on in here, like Sabrina breaking away from Chloe and becoming more independent (and closer to Adrien in fact), as well as a Lila takedown plot, though thankfully not one that involves demonizing other characters. While there are conversations about people believing Lila and siding with her, no one’s actually attacked for it except for Lila herself.

Oh yeah, and while this fic may not have much focus on Adrien, he’s still treated fairly and with respect, even when he messes up. He can make mistakes, but people understand where he’s coming from, and are still kind to him and want things to be okay, and to help him escape his abusive circumstances.

---

Marcnath:

Day 7: Book by Andromeda612

During one of his works, Marc comes across a rather interesting book.

MarcNath AU fic here! Basically Marc is a super powerful warlock, and is brought in to help with the case of a lying witch who apparently caused a lot of problems for people, using her magic to help fool everyone. She’s actually dead by the time the story starts, and everyone’s trying to go back through and figure out what she’s done and why memories surrounding her seem to be foggy. Meanwhile there’s a book she left behind which appears to be sentient, and which Marc’s taken a liking too...

---

don't you worry child by @mexicancat-girl

Marc and Nathaniel have a good life, married and living together in a cottage in the woods. But they consider having children at some point. Marc in particular really wants to start a family with his husband. He knows the fey are real, so he goes searching in the woods to find one to strike a deal. He may get a bit more than he bargained for in the process.

This is based on a tumblr post that’s been going around, which I think a lot of people will recognize as they continue going through the story. That post is credited at the end of the fic, so as not to spoil the plot.

---

Confession Plans of Questionable Sanity by yellow14

Nathanael Kurtzberg has a confession to make. He’s in love with his big classmate Ivan. With the help of Marc, Marinette, Adrien and Nino, he’s going to confess, using increasingly complicated schemes. Marc meanwhile, is busy coming up with even more complicated schemes to sabotage those schemes so he can confess HIS feelings for his redheaded friend. Nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong with this, right? Written for the March 2023 gift exchange on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord forum for CassieTheweirdWolf.

This fic’s just really funny. These kids love to make things waaaaay harder than they need to be. But hey, everything ends up working out in the end, even if it’s not the way they planned!

---

Evillustrator Reimagined by onewaywriteturn

A full, mostly-standalone rewrite of the episode "The Evillustrator".

Nathaniel never planned to tell anyone about his secret crush on his friend Marc, but his world changes when Chloe picks up his sketchbook and mocks his art in front of the whole class, inadvertently outing him as bisexual. Now as the Evillustrator, he has two objectives: to take vengeance on Chloe for what she did to him and to go on a date with Marc for his birthday.

At the same time, Marinette is already struggling to defend Sabrina from Chloe when she learns of the Evillustrator's crush on Marc, one of her good friends. And while getting Marc involved with an akuma fight is messy enough, the fact that Marc has secretly liked Nathaniel for a long time complicates the situation so much more.

If you ever wanted to see Evillustrator rewritten to focus around NathMarc, this is the fic for you! The two of them just PINE for each other so hard and are so convinced that the other person couldn’t possibly actually want to date them, even with Evillustrator making it uh. Exceedingly obvious XD.

---

I'd Do Anything For $20 (To Feel More In Control) by Shroomifyiy

Bee!Nathaniel AU one shot (because I think he's silly teehee) Nathaniel hated keeping secrets, especially from someone he cared about. But unfortunately, it's not up to him to decide that. Marc feels hurt from Nathaniel's actions. He just wants his boyfriend to be honest with him. Hawkmoth is a bitch ass motherfucker. Enough said.

Fun Nathmarc fic here! I love seeing Nathaniel's interactions with Pollen, and him cope with the strain on his relationship with needing to run off all the time to go fight akumas with only the flimsiest of excuses. He loves Marc deeply, as deeply as Marc loves him. But Marc's getting suspicious and wondering what's going on, and Nathaniel doesn't think he can tell him.

---

Handle With Care by @dragonchris

AU where soulmates can feel each other's emotions. But having a soulmate isn't always beautiful and romantic. Sometimes it's messy. Sometimes it hurts. Marc and Nath have to learn what that means for them.

This was cute, I loved seeing how Nathaniel and Marc both thought about their soulmate, and how they cope with the aftermath of Reverser in this AU. Helps that Alix is a platonic soulmate of Nathaniel's here (Nathaniel has two soulmates).

---

Lukadrien:

When feelings are too big for words by ClockworkCaptain

When Luka takes a gig playing for a drag show he's falls hard and fast for the drag queen Buttercup who uses her performances to work through her own emotions. Meanwhile Adrien's been using drag to work through his own emotions and thinks maybe Luka coming back into his life and showing interest might mean a second chance. Made for @mlsecretsanta 2022

One of the issues I tend to have with Luka shipfics, and with Lukadrien especially (though I think Lukanette actually has this problem worse) is how Luka tends to disappear within the fic and the pairing, feeling more like “The Love Interest” than his own person. Not so here! While most of the intrigue surrounds Adrien, I still got the sense of Luka being his own person, not just existing in the fic for Adrien.

I adored Adrien getting to display an aspect of himself through persona and performance - that does align well with how he approaches Chat Noir - and overall I just had a lot of fun with this fic!

---

forever (and a little bit) by @rainbow-arrow

Now the world was out of tune. It was messy and blurry and Luka could not fathom waking up tomorrow and accepting his new life. He had less than nothing. How could he care about anything when the better half of his melody was replaced with silence. --- see also: Luka's villain origin story

This is a tragedy, don't go into it expecting a happy ending. Adrien breaks up with Marinette because he's upset over her lying to him about his father's fate and not telling him he's a sentimonster, and gradually becomes closer to Luka instead, first as a friend and later as a lover. There are fragments of story from the future that let you know this love story isn't going to last...

It's rated M, though I think that's mostly because of Adrien's injuries. I can see why it's M rated, but I think most teens should be fine reading this.

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Two is Company by Shadownoble

Adrien’s father wants him to play for an upcoming party. Only this time he won’t be doing it alone.

This Lukadrien fic's adorable! Luka's got selective mutism, which Adrien takes in stride. I love how their relationship develops, they're smitten with each other! Though of course while Gabriel brought the two of them together, he's an obstacle too. Because he's a dick.

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Julerose:

How Could I Not? by SorryJustAnotherPerson

In fairy tale books, Princesses were saved by nights from ferocious dragons. Those books were not their story, but Rose was happy to flip over a new page with her Juleka every single day. Many years ago, she was put to this tower by her parents and her kingdom, along with a fire breathing dragon, so she could find her prince charming one day. How foolish for them to not calculate her falling in love with the dragon. I mean seriously. How could she not?

I love fairy tale type stories, especially fractured fairy tales. And Juleka being a dragon is awesome. This is just a fun and adorable story.

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You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess by @mexicancat-girl

With Team Miraculous now full-time holders, Ladybug has them patrolling in pairs like her and Chat Noir. New partners Pigella and Purple Tigress get along phenomenally, their easy banter and similar wavelengths making working with each other a joy in and out of combat. But sometimes Tigress is surprised just how close she is with her partner. Sometimes she tries not to feel too guilty thinking about it.

There’s some nice Julerose here! I love them kinda getting into a lovesquare with each other, though it’s not as much of a problem as it is in canon since it’s reciprocal in every relationship and they’re both down for a poly. It’s fun, and I love the “Luka attempting to woo some of his love interests” plot going on in the background XD.

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Chlobrina:

Tides of Time by JayJoy3000

Chloe, to her disdain, attends a prestigious university in London where she happens to run into her traitorous, ex-best friend who left Paris years ago without an explanation. But Sabrina is not the shy pushover she once was... Or, the one where Chloe Bourgeois absolutely does NOT spend months pining after Sabrina Raincomprix. No, that would be ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

I love how this fic handles Chloe, this is a Chloe who's realized her parents are crap and decided to try to be better, and made some real friends with Juleka and Luka (and seems to be on decently friendly terms with the rest of the class, but they don't come up much), but still has a ways to go, with not really understanding why Sabrina ghosted her, that Sabrina wasn't as happy as she thought.

Also at the beginning of the story Chloe still believes she's straight. Chloe is the ONLY one who believes Chloe is straight XD.

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Hanahaki by @generalluxun

First fic: Late Bloomer

On what might very well be the last night of her life, Sabrina Raincomprix pulls out a very special scrapbook, pressed between the pages is the past, the past she has never shared with anyone. She relives how she got to this moment one page at a time, preparing herself for the end. A phone call interrupts her self-imposed exile and brings news that could change her life forever. Even if it does though the question looms... change it how?

I love this series, how it shows how both Sabrina and Chloe have changed, how bad Chloe's circumstances are, and how much she needs help. She's not in good shape when Sabrina reunites with her - she's got a pretty severe eating disorder, for one thing - and Sabrina can't just... leave things like they are.

I love the delving into of Chloe's and Sabrina's psychology and viewpoints, and them both growing as a result (this is solely from Sabrina's perspective, but Chloe's the focus of the plot, so you see a lot of her).

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DJWifi:

Strangely Familiar by @sunfoxfic

Alya Césaire’s life is perfect. Indeed, between the success of the Ladyblog, how well she’s doing in school, and the fact that she’s a superhero who has never bore the weight of a crisis of epic proportions, her life almost couldn’t be better. Almost. But Alya has always been a go-getter, and so she’ll chase after that perfect life if it kills her. Which is how she ends up rushing to move out of her father’s apartment and in with Marinette, Adrien, and a complete stranger: Nino Lahiffe. And in fact, her life does seem perfect — she and Nino are fast friends. They spend a lot of time together and get to know each other really well. But in the end, fortunate situations will bear unfortunate truths, and she learns things about herself that aren’t quite comfortable. Like I said, though: Alya has always been a go-getter, and she won’t let new feelings deter her from chasing after her perfect life.

This is the single longest DJWifi-centric fic on AO3 (which is a travesty) and it is GLORIOUS. Alya and Nino are both well fleshed-out here, with their own problems and baggage they’re dealing with, but it’s easier together.

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disconnected by just_an_ordinary_fan

Lady Wifi believes she might be the only one who does not want to obey Hawkmoth's orders. When she sees another akuma hesitate in the battle, she finds she might not be entirely alone.

I actually wrote my own fic, Nullius in Verba, based off of this one. It’s short but has an intriguing premise, with all the akumas being transported to this warehouse after the fight’s over, having been basically forced to do Hawkmoth’s bidding. The akumas also don’t seem to remember who they were before, or even that they WERE ordinary people before, which is an interesting twist.

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Alyanette:

is it chill that you're in my head? by bringthestorm

Alya stared at the picture plastered across the homepage of every single tabloid and news site, whispering every curse she could think of under her breath. SHOCKING SECRET ROMANCE BETWEEN LADYBLOGGER AND PARISIAN SUPERVILLAIN REVEALED!!! the headline announced, casually shouting the words she had been dreading for all of Paris to read. --- Alya had always assumed that someday Paris would discover that she had secretly been kissing their most wanted vigilante, but she had never thought it would happen so soon. As the domino effects of her relationship with Ladybug go spiraling through her life, Alya turns her sights towards the one responsible: the elusive superhero Hawkmoth. AKA Someone outs Alya and her girlfriend so she retaliates by deciding to take down Hawkmoth 

I recommend this to anyone who either A. Loves Alya and wants to see more of her in a starring role, or B., wants to see an AU where Parisians could feasibly believe that Hawkmoth is the good guy, and that Ladybug and Chat Noir are, if not villains, at least reckless.

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the best laid plans (of bugs and bakers) by @mexicancat-girl

Paris is buzzing with the appearance of a new ladybug-themed hero, Scarabella. Alya decides to use her second hero identity to help her best friend Marinette. A bit of her flirting with Marinette is bound to make Marinette’s crushes jealous and finally ask her out! Her plan is fool-proof…! Except when it’s not. Not enough people are talking about Scarabella flirting with Marinette. How can Alya properly help her best friend if the news can’t be bothered to cover Marinette’s budding romance with Scarabella and only posts things about Marinette with Chat Noir?! So Alya puts her all into her plan, upping up her flirting each time she appears as the newbie hero Scarabella. This totally does not backfire in any way.

I adore fics that center on Alya, I haven’t exactly been shy about that fact. This is a nice one for some Alyanette adorableness! (And some Scarabella and Chat banter, I really enjoyed reading that as well). “Fake” flirting to make crushes jealous tends to turn real very quickly, and this is no exception. It’s hilarious, Alya’s the last one to figure out that her romantic relationship with Marinette is very much real XD.

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Feluka:

Boomer!Luka: FeLuka Ending series by @19thsentry-blog

In the Shadows (the first fic in the series) summary:

On one side is Luka, 140-year-old Snake Miraculous holder and keeper of the Guardian's secrets, on the other is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a relatively newly minted hero of Paris and Guardian of the Miracle Box. Each is looking to fulfill their promises to their now gone mentors to reunite the Kwamis and keep them safe. Sounds simple--until you throw in a rocky start, the Atlantic Ocean, Félix Graham de Vanily, and a whole host of secrets���and suddenly simple becomes complicated (story of Marinette's life, right?).

So this is obviously way outside my normal wheelhouse. I don’t typically read Lukanette fics, even ones that turn into FeLuka later on in the series (though boy it becomes apparent quickly that the author’s fascinated with FeLuka’s dynamic.) But this one is really good, with the best Luka-centric fics I’ve ever read, and some of the best Felix-centric content as well. I love how Luka has his own baggage here, with all the pressure of wandering around for over a century, looking after the few Miraculous he found, trying to keep what’s left of the Order alive, unaware of Fu’s survival or of the Miraculous user’s re-emergence in Paris. There’s a lot of focus on Luka’s own feelings and thoughts and problems, not just on helping other people with them. 

The plot works even without the romantic aspect, so even if Lukanette isn’t a pairing that draws you in, I still recommend this fic, so long as you don’t actively dislike the pairing itself. And even though it’s a Lukanette fic, Adrien and Alya are treated fairly and with respect. Adrien may not end up with Marinette and is bummed about it, but the narrative is still kind to him overall, there’s clearly no ill well towards him, or Alya for that matter. (There are later fics in the series that focus more on Adrien just healing and coping and living after finding out that his father’s a villain and his mom’s been in the basement this whole time, and in the multiversal travel fic, Alya gets some standout appearances as Scarabella which are fun).

And FELIX - it’s clear that 19thsentry has this whole conception about Felix’s psychology. He’s wrapped in a ton of self-loathing until it started to consume him, made him lash out. Him being a sentimonster, wanting to get the Peacock Miraculous, actually gave him some direction for that at least. And he’s just in this pit of his own making, until he meets Luka, who can see through him when no one else can, who cares for him even though he doesn’t understand why, who’d been through so much over the years and yet kept himself kind. He’s attracted like a moth to a flame, infuriated that he cares, yet not able to stop himself from caring about this mysterious, infuriating musician. 

Yeah if you can’t tell this is the series that really sold me on FeLuka as a couple.

Oh yeah, one of the fics in here is M-rated, and it does earn the M rating for sexual content, though it’s nothing too major.

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See This Chance by @19thsentry-blog

Luka died in 2016. Yep. Crushed by the Arc de Triumph when Mayura’s Robustus slammed into it. It was kind of a big deal, but once you’re dead, you’re dead—especially when there’s no Lucky Charm to bring you back. Luka’s been dealing with it in the typical ways. Written for FeLuka week 2023.

Yes, this is FeLuka. Not one of the typical ships I read, but I ain’t opposed to it, and this is a nice foray into the pairing. I love ghost AUs! Luka’s just fumbling around, unsure what to do with his incorporeal existence, until he starts haunting Felix. It’s an intriguing plot and I gotta admit, I wish it was longer so it could be fleshed out more, but what’s here is good.

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One-offs:

Come Take My Hand by @carelisswriting

Luka heard his soulmate for the first time when he was ten. All he knows about her is that she likes fencing. It's just a coincidence that Kagami likes fencing, right? (Lukagami Soulmate AU, written for the Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa Exchange!)

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics, and this had an interesting take on it, with your soulmate able to hear you thinking only about the thing you’re most passionate about. Loved Kagami’s way of showing Luka she’s his soulmate especially!

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Attack of the Crystal Zombies by @trainsinanime

Kagami had spent more and more time hanging out with Zoé, talking about things like families, expectations and crushes on Marinette. It was only natural, probably, that she would help Zoé practice flirting. That was definitely a great idea. Granted, the deadly Akuma battle around them was a bit of an issue…

Quality Zoegami fic here! I loved how Kagami kept thinking she was bad at flirting, but it was sure working on Zoe XD. The akuma attack going on around them, interweaving with their conversation, added a bit of spice to the whole affair!

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All Of Them? Every Single One? by @liiinerle

It turns out that Marinette loves a lot more people than she’d initially thought.

This is hilarious and adorable. Tikki lays out how Marinette has a crush on basically every girl she’s met - and even girls she doesn’t know are girls yet XD. 

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Emotional Mountain Ranges by @liiinerle

After Zoé’s attempted romantic confession to Marinette is interrupted by an incensed Chloé and Audrey Bourgeois, she’s left distraught and adrift, a crying mess in an alleyway far from home. Ladybug saves her from the incoming akuma, and tries to help her back on her feet - and Zoé wonders what she could possibly have done to earn this much attention from a superhero…

Lovely Zoenette fic here! I especially like how Marinette talks to Zoe, reassures her that she’s good enough, that she (as Ladybug) isn’t as perfect and composed as she thinks, and just… tries to get Zoe to have more confidence in herself. It’s mostly from Zoe’s perspective too, which I like since there aren’t a lot of Zoe POV fics.

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Swimming in Circles by @generalluxun

Life has moved on for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s not where she thought she would be seven years ago, but she’s still in a good place. Classes, hobbies, friends, her life is full despite the lingering shades of her faded yet sweet middle-school romance. Then just as quick at the first time, someone drops into her life and turns her into an absolute mess once more. Love and crushes might be her undoing, but she’s got a little more experience this time to weather the storm. This fateful stranger stirs memories as well as emotions inside of her, and with a forthrightness her old self would be jealous of, Marinette takes the plunge.

So this is a Trans fic, with Marinette’s new crush being a trans version of a certain classmate who she doesn’t recognize, who’s changed a lot, for the better. I like how it deals with the baggage she has with that person, has her think that through.

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Three’s company by @torvalvt

Kagami has been doing her best for years to ignore her feelings for her friends. It doesn’t help that Adrien and Marinette insist on spending as much time as possible with her, even going so far as inviting her along on their dates together. If only the affection she felt for them wouldn’t get in the way of their relationship. Because it is growing harder and harder to tamp down her feelings with how close they are getting to her.

This is adorable. Adrien and Marinette really want Kagami to join their relationship and she just doesn’t dare hope for it. If you want some adorable Adrigaminette from Kagami’s perspective, I recommend checking this fic out!

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Stone Streak by kingxuppu

Ladybug and Violet Tigress had been fighting the mysterious Duskwing for eight years now. Through the years, the two have grown stronger together and even gotten married, they are waiting until they finally beat Duskwing to start a family. At least, that was the plan. When Juleka gets confronted with the realization that her friends are starting families of their own, she realizes just how badly she wants to be a mother.

Due to unfortunate circumstances, Juleka and Marinette get the chance to adopt Juleka's young modeling friend Adrien.

Maybe they aren't quite a traditional family, but with magic, rockstars, and fame, normal was never an option.

Via Discovery: There are actually two terms of venery for tigers, depending on the makeup of the group. The first is a streak of tigers and this refers to a female tiger and her cubs.

Now this is a rare pairing, there’s not a lot of Julenette fics! Adrien and Rose actually have some ship tease going on, the whole kid group in canon got broken up into two groups here, one that remained around canon age (so like 13) which notably consists of Chloe, Rose, and Adrien, and then I think everyone else are adults in their mid-twenties. It’s weird seeing Adrien as Marinette’s and Juleka’s son, but hey it works! I love how Juleka really showed Adrien the ropes on modeling and became a Mama tiger for him, the fic’s mostly just very sweet, though with a surprisingly dark final act. 

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In Direct Opposition by @generalluxun

Alya Cesaire is a brand new student to Francis Dupont, to Paris even. The first student she meets is one Chloé Bourgeois, and Alya is determined to make a friend. Things advance Chaotically. Her new 'friend' is definitely a handful, and suddenly Paris has a supervillain and two brand new superheroes! Alya finds herself balancing a lot of things, trying to live up to her ideals and those of her icons.

And then reality seems to contradict itself.

As time progresses it seems to happen more often. Becoming a hero, battling villains, staying alive, working through friendships. Something is lurking, tweaking events at times, changing them, and no one seems aware. Alya will need all her wits to get to the bottom of this. Her investigative mind can only get her so far though, and then she needs to rely on her friends. This is not a foe you can beat head on.

I betaed this entire fic, it’s really good! I adore the focus on Alya’s philosophy here, her determination to be a hero, to help people and defeat evil - and that defeating evil means trying to reform the people doing bad things when possible, to try to save EVERYONE, even the “villain”. I thought it was really clever the ways Alya would redirect Chloe and subtly encourage her to be a better person, while also trying to get the people around her to give her a second chance and keep an open mind. 

Also Alya and Chloe are an adorable sapphic couple XD.

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Herbs And Steam by @liiinerle

Juleka le Flor Blef, nature witch from near the forest of Couffaine, arrives at Eiffel Castle so she can partake in the Queen's Trials - a contest to determine the strongest witch in all of France. She wants to prove the strength of her magic, but when she arrives, her attention is quickly distracted by two very interesting women: Kagami, the princess, who seems to act nothing like a princess should; and Marinette, the blacksmith, who has created a magic all her own through metal, steam, and ingenuity. Juleka is immediately besotted with both of them, and needs to work extra hard to focus on her magic. Juleka also soon becomes aware that there is stronger magic at Eiffel castle than she had expected. For one thing, there's a tree in the courtyard put there years ago by a witch whose powers seem to surpass hers; for another, there's Alya la Pluvie Versaunt, who must be the most powerful mage Juleka has ever met...

Unusual poly here, there aren't a lot of Juleka/Kagami/Marinette fics! I love the world here, getting to see all these different witches honing their craft, and Juleka making friends with many of them - though especially the nonwitches Kagami and Marinette, of course XD. If you like some femslash or a good fantasy AU, this fic should scratch that itch!

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Graveyard Love Series by @liiinerle

A brief two-parter series which chronicles what happens after Lila dies suddenly, and Marinette finds out that she's the one saved as Lila's emergency contact on her phone. In part one, Marinette seeks answers with Alya's help - and what she finds ends up testing their friendship. In part two, Alya seeks to rebuild their relationship - and perhaps build it into something more.

First fic in series: Absent Soul

Just for a moment, Alya seemed speechless, her eyes as wide as the hallway was long. “You’re really going to start to believe her now?” Marinette sighed. “It’s not her I believe. I just… I don’t think she could manage all… this if it was fake. And besides… me, her emergency contact? That’s too bizarre to be a lie.” Even more than that, it was too bizarre to be true. So what could Lila possibly hope to achieve? “I’m not sure I agree with you,” said Alya. “But I’m not gonna let you go this alone. And I’m pulling you away if I smell anything cooking.” The thing was, Marinette wasn’t sure she agreed with herself. Nothing made sense. Even just knowing more would help settle the tumult in her brain, which felt like it had been speeding up almost imperceptibly for every door she’d passed through since the balcony. --- Marinette suddenly learns that she's saved as Lila's emergency contact on her phone... the same day she learns that Lila has been in a fatal accident. She is then pulled through a week of responsibilities and discoveries she never imagined having before, and a growing fondness for someone she once hated.

So this is fascinating, I love how it explored the insanity of whatever bizarre situation Lila has going on. Marinette's great here, she doesn't understand why Lila did the things she did, or what her background truly was, but if she had no one else, then at least she has Marinette to make sure her remains are taken care of properly. Though perhaps to a worrying extent. Thankfully, Alya's here as well to give support, and perhaps an intervention if things go too far. The second fic in the series focuses around Alya giving that intervention, of a sort.

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And Mark Ronson Can Get Stuffed by @liiinerle

Marinette gets a call from Vivica, Jagged Stone's guitarist, with a proposition. She wants a producer - and she's heard Marinette's the best one for the job. At least, that's what Jagged says, and well, the only real competition is Bob Roth... ... but Marinette still isn't prepared for the whirlwind of feelings she'll get spinning through her brain whenever she sees Vivica play. Or for the realisations she'll make about herself as she sits engulfed in a type of music that feels like it gets her, and gazes up at the angel who's holding the guitar.

So this is a RARE rare pair, I've never seen Vivinette before! Man though, is this a great first fic for the pairing! I love seeing Marinette's efforts to be the best producer she can be for Vivica, not totally realizing at first why she's so nervous and determined to be the best she can be for her... and then becoming all too aware of her feelings XD. I especially adore how enamored Marinette becomes with Vivica's songs, being deeply affected by them but unable to put her feelings into words well enough to give feedback.

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Stop Time by @liiinerle

— she put her hand on the page, blocking it so the words wouldn’t scream so loudly at her. They had screamed more than enough already. Gritting her teeth, she pulled her fingers together, crumpling the paper slightly — just enough that it didn’t look so pristine and mocking. It needed to be full of despair, in every possible way. “Marinette —” started Mullo. “No! Never again. Marinette is… gone, forever.” She let go of the paper. Now it lay alone in the light, as the last thing she could ever tell them. That she loved them, that she’d miss them, that she would never talk to them again. A suicide note. Of sorts. ----- Fu accidentally names Marinette as the new guardian, and not Ladybug. She's forced to fake her own death and go into hiding in order to get away from Hawk Moth. She finds a hiding spot in the Louvre, but there she's forced to face the effects of her going away by a very unexpected source: her friend Alix.

Definitely mind the tags on this one! But if it ain't triggering to you, then I highly recommend reading it. You can really feel Marinette's struggles here, with basically making herself homeless, unable to reach out to her friends and family, needing to steal just to feed herself and the kwamis, and then dealing with everyone in her life grieving... and then moving on. Except for a few people who don't...

It's just... it's really good, really heart-wrenching.

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The Only Love We Keep by @nemaliwrites

Zoé is used to wanting things she can’t have — loving people who do not love her back. She’s made peace with that. But as soon as she meets Scarabella, she’s a goner. Or, five times Zoé’s love wasn’t reciprocated, and one time it was.

I love this analysis of Zoe and her circumstances, her mindset, her philosophy based on how she's grown up. How she yearns for her mom to actually love her, but she just... doesn't. And how she finds friends who actually care for her, and someone who actually wants her.

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The Black Cat of the Family by Anonymous

To Felix, Chat Noir is freedom. Pure freedom, unhindered by anything (well, except perhaps a little too much dedication to Ladybug). He goes where he pleases when he pleases. He acts so ridiculous, like no one was ever watching, even when everyone was watching. He chafes at orders and authority, even when the orders are coming from Ladybug herself. He's free to be whoever he wants, in a way Felix only wishes he could be. So of course he starts flirting with the catboy. It also doesn't hurt that the superhero is easy on the eyes. Chat Noir, meanwhile, is simply trying to figure out how to reject his cousin without revealing his own secret identity. But when has anything in his love life ever worked out for him? Or, in other words: Somehow the Fathom-Graham de Vanily-Agreste family becomes even more dysfunctional in brand new ways.

This was fun, I liked the natural way Chat caught Felix's attention with his kindness, wit, and hidden depths. It makes sense why Felix would slowly develop a crush on him, while Chat just thinks that he's having fun with his cousin.

Also Chat's reaction when he realizes that Felix is, in fact, confessing his crush on him, is just priceless XD.

[emkayewrites]

Lukola fanfic excerpt: Luke and Nicola have feelings for one another but have not confessed them to each other. They are filming the one-take wedding dance scene. It goes as well as you can imagine.

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

28th November 2022 – Surrey (UK)

The Gallery was an ornately decorated room, with adornments of brightly-coloured flowers, sumptuous tapestries and antique furniture.  Large windows framed by draperies of velvet and silk lined the space, allowing natural light to filter through.   

Nicola considered how this majestic room would very shortly be filled with people and noise.  There would be the crew and then there would be the cast mates and extras, all in their various regalia.  This would be the last time this season that they would all be together in a scene.  Although some of the cast would still be returning to film additional scenes, today would mark her last filming day with everyone – including Luke.  If that was not enough to create an enormous feeling of occasion; it was also the day they would be filming Penelope and Colin’s wedding dance.  If she let herself linger on these thoughts for too long, she found her throat becoming dry and her heart start to race.  She could not let her mind overcome the muscle memory she was planning to rely on – not today.

She tried to orient herself to something that would distract her.  She gazed at the mirror on the wall in front of her and at the scene it showed was happening behind her: two crew members fiddled with lighting as Tom, their director, presided over them with his usual commanding yet father-like presence.  There was something about the familiarity of the scene that felt comforting.

Then her eyes shifted to her own reflection.  Whilst it was true that she had been in front of mirrors since five o’clock that morning, she had not truly looked at herself.  She had been going through the sleep-deprived motions:  taking sharp intakes of breath as the wardrobe team fitted her into her corsetry, yawning her way through the make-up teams’ application of thick, glamourous make-up on her face, neck, cleavage and even arms.  Sure, she had been slightly more alert when she was allowed to cautiously sip a strong black coffee with her usual seven sugars as her hair was expertly styled but even then, she had not really woken up.  Now, in the bright light of day and with the adrenaline coursing through her; she finally realised why everyone had been getting emotional at the sight of her.  She understood what all the fuss was about.

She stood resplendent in a blush satin gown that gracefully fell to the floor around her.  Her silhouette was perfectly accentuated by an empire waist; the neckline was tastefully rounded and short, slightly puffed sleeves added a little of Penelope’s individual flair to the look.  Her hair was a more striking shade of auburn than usual and styled with jeweled hairpins into a soft, intricate up-do with curls gently framing her face.  Her makeup was a lot softer and more natural in appearance than it felt on her face; rosy cheeks, a hint of pink on her lips and subtle but dark eye make-up enhanced her large eyes.

Even she had to admit that she looked beautiful. 

“Woah.”

Luke’s voice came from off to the side.

He walked in through the grand entrance: tall, dark and handsome.  He wore the traditional formalwear of the Regency era; a black, finely tailored frock coat that highlighted his athletic build with an ivory waistcoat underneath.  An expertly tied navy-coloured cravat and silver brooch finished off his look. 

She felt her breath catch.

He was immaculate.

He looked at her with awe written across his face.  It took her a minute to realise he was likely as mesmerised by her as she was by him.

“Hello to you too.” She managed to respond, forcing a smile that should be coming naturally.

It was not that she was not happy to see him.  It was that she was too happy to see him.  All she wanted to do was leap up, wrap her arms around him, run her hands through his beautifully combed hair and kiss him.  The urge was so strong that it took her aback.  She would need to scale her emotions back around him; she would need to be the best actress she had ever been to achieve this.  The one small mercy that she had was that once the cameras rolled, she could ease up on herself.  She could let herself look at him with the mixture of fascination and obsession she wanted to because it would not be her looking.  It would be Penelope.

His eyes scanned over her, she thought that there was an element in them that conveyed restlessness and some sense of dissatisfaction.

Was she reading too much into things?

She had been plagued with thoughts of what if. 

What if he felt what she felt?

No, she could not read too much into his emotions.  She tried to remind herself that this day was bringing an emotional side out in everyone.  It would be strange if he was his usual laidback self.  In fact, it made more sense that he seemed somewhat disturbed.  They were all disturbed.  The scenes they were filming were high stakes, carrying with them the weight of the most important love story from that season.

“You look…” He started but seemed to interrupt himself. “I mean – are you – are we OK?”

“Yes, of course.” She was quick and somewhat defensive in her reply. “I’ve just been insanely busy as things are winding down.”

This was a lie.

Over the last few weeks, Luke had been contacting her nearly every day with an assortment of memes, random musings and direct requests to meet up for private rehearsal of their final scenes.  She had responded evasively, if at all.  She had felt awful doing it.  Yet, the alternative was to spend time with him alone – something she did not trust herself with.  In truth, these were not intimacy scenes that she or he would be highly anxious about and need private or even additional rehearsals for.  She knew that he was asking so that they could just spend time together, but this no longer felt appropriate for her.  He wanted a friend to banter with, she wanted to do things to him she could not say without blushing.  They were in different places.

“I really wanted to celebrate your last day in our traditional style – with some kind of feast in one of our trailers.” He smiled, a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. “You pick.”

She reminded herself of her sister’s sage advice: keep your distance and keep your knickers on. 

“I’m really sorry, I’m heading off set and straight to a Barbie shoot.” This was at least not a lie.

“Oh, wow, I forgot that was coming up. That’s amazing, Nic.” He continued smiling, a hopeful tone to his voice. “I’ll be wrapped and back in the city on Saturday – maybe we feast then?”

She felt her heart sink. 

Why was he so sweet?

Why did this feel like killing a puppy?

“I’m sorry Luke…” She apologized again. “We’re doing Christmas abroad this year and leaving in under two weeks. I just haven’t got the time.  We can catch up when I’m back in the New Year?”

He seemed unconvinced by her answer, concern spreading across his face.

Before their conversation could continue, Tom was standing over them with Jack, their lead choreographer, right behind him.

“You guys look amazing.” Tom complimented them, scratching at his head.

“So, are we ready?” Jack asked, rubbing his hands together with excitement.

Nicola surveyed the expansive yet mostly empty room around them.  She spotted their cinematographer and a handful of the crew by the cameras, watchful and waiting.

“Is everyone else late?” She found herself asking out loud.

Jack and Tom exchanged knowing looks.  Luke stared at them and then at her, matching her confusion.

“No, no one is late – you guys are just a little early.” Tom explained, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I wanted time for us to get Penelope and Colin doing their first dance here, just the two of them stealing a moment alone together.”  Tom gestured to the room around them, a wide grin on his face.

“And Jack’s here a little bit early too just to offer some choreographic wisdom but really, I was hoping you guys could just let go a little, be a little spontaneous in movement…” Tom continued.

“I would say, do the steps but without overthinking the manners and formality.” Jack added.

Nicola digested this.  The one area of safety she had been clinging onto was to switch her mind and emotions off, and to surrender into the role of Penelope with the carefully planned out steps and words that she was scripted to do.  Now, she was having to contend with having to act from a place of improvisation.  Improvisation that had previously led her to completely lose control of herself with him.  The mental gymnastics of it all made her brain hurt. 

“Sounds good to me.” Luke responded in a nonchalant tone that seemed inauthentic to her.

“Do you guys want to go through a quick sequence…?” Jack queried, but Tom was quick to wave off his suggestion.

“No, let’s just go right now with whatever you guys have in the bag – I want to get as many spontaneous takes as possible.”

“Yay, spontaneity.” Nicola weakly enthused, eliciting a nervous chuckle from Luke.

“Right, we’ll go from your mark here.”  Jack guided them to their spot in front of the cameras before shuffling back to stand behind one of the monitors.

Nicola felt her heartrate increase again.

They stood face-to-face, the gap between them was just a few inches.  She felt as if her whole body was vibrating.  There was something about being in a wedding dress, in front of him in a tux, in this grand and historic room that caused a swell of emotion to overcome her.

Jesus Christ, get it together.  She tried to tell herself.

“Let loose a little bit.  There’s no audience.  It’s just Colin and Penelope.” Tom directed, standing behind the camera. “It’s the day they’ve overcome obstacle after obstacle to get to.  This is where they finally get to just be themselves, no pomp and circumstance.”

Luke nodded in acknowledgement, and Nicola followed, bobbing her head at Tom.

“Alright – action!”

Immediately, her eyes were locked onto his.   That was all it took for her to decide to just surrender.  No more defenses.  She knew she was gazing at him adoringly, wistfully, hungrily… her chest heaved with the deep breaths she took as she fell into the familiar configuration of steps that they had repeated hundreds of times.

They moved in perfect synchronicity like they had a so many times before in their rehearsals but this time, it felt different.  This time, she was Penelope without her guardrails.  She was Penelope alone with the man she had ached for for most of her life.  She was Nicola.  She was Nicola not having to restrain herself from not only touching him but holding onto him with a grip so tight that it was telling on her.

The world and people around them seemed to disappear as they danced around one another; drawing closer, touching, then breaking apart again, gently pulling further back before once again, being lured towards one another.  Pulling and pushing like two gravitational forces that could not quite work out if they attracted or repelled.

She could not take her eyes away from his.  There was a look in them that was intense and longing.   

This is our goodbye. She thought to herself, her heart silently breaking.

The surge of emotion was so great, she felt tears sting angrily at her eyes.  There were so many reasons why she could not cry right now.  She saw that his own eyes were glassy with the threat of tears too.  Instinctively, they pushed against each other, holding one another tightly, and she felt his hand gently caress the side of her face, making electricity shoot through her body as their lips drew closer and closer.

It was all she could do to hold her position there, millimeters from kissing him.

There was a pause that felt like it went on forever before Tom’s voice sliced through the silence, yelling cut.

Immediately, Nicola moved her face away from Luke’s hand, letting go of him, and turned to face the crew.

The looks on their faces were on par with the looks she had received when she had first stepped out in full costume that morning: pure astonishment.

“That… that was the fucking take, pardon my French.” Tom laughed, bewildered. “Jesus, I don’t know what you guys channelled there but that was it.”

“Just… sublime.” Jack echoed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’d have been flayed alive for some of those steps at a real Regency era ball but for what this is meant to convey… just, wow.”

Nicola found herself chuckling, grateful for the hint of comic relief.  She was almost too scared to look to her side, to catch Luke’s eyes.  The whole thing made her ache.  She was still working hard to keep the tears back.

“Get over here, you need to see yourselves because I don’t think you realise what you’ve just pulled off.” Tom enthused, ushering them over so that they were stood behind one of the monitors.

Their scene started to play out in front of them.  Nicola saw a couple moving together in beautiful harmony, clearly infatuated with one another.

“I only wanted you guys to get into character before the wedding dance with everyone, but I think we need to get Jess’s eyeballs on this, see if we can put it in somewhere.” Tom lauded, watching with them. “Really, well done, you guys.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.” Luke spoke, his eyes on the screen, but his voice sounded strange.

“A one-take wonder!” Tom laughed. “Might be worth saving a clip of this in case this just ends up on the cutting room floor.”

Nicola thought about whether she would want a copy of something so real and raw, or whether this would be better off relegated to obscurity. 

What would hurt her less?

She didn’t know.

[bloodmoonmuses]

yeah x10 | mark & haechan

summary: a tennis match illuminates the complexities in your relationships with mark and haechan.

genre/warnings: mark lee x reader, lee haechan x reader, challengers au, tennis au, suggestive/suggestive themes implied (mdni), strong language

This match is just for fun, but the stakes feel so much higher. It’s in the air- adrenaline, nervousness- the latter of which you’d never admit to, but it’s ravaging through your body in shock waves. Lightning accompanying the thunderous beating of your heart. 

It’s just for fun, you say to yourself, over and over again. This means nothing. But doesn’t this mean everything? That you’ve gotten over it to some degree?

Wishful thinking on your part, to think for a second you could let either of them go, but the trying has gotta be worth something.

Mixed doubles. You and Haechan against Mark and Winter. You wish you could play Mark one-on-one, like you used to back in high school, but this’ll have to do. Haechan walks up to the service line, and you can feel his slurry of emotions permeate the atmosphere, even with your back to him. It’s distracting how much he wears his heart on his sleeve. 

Anger; You hadn’t told him you’d be playing against Mark. Confusion; Why do you care about this match so much? Why are you twirling your racket around like a bashful school kid? Lust (or envy rather, Haechcan reasoned to himself- but are those not two sides of the same coin?); Mark is glistening in the sunlight and the tennis skirt adorning your form barely covers your ass. 

Haechan wishes to be sought after in the multitude of ways you are. Sure, people yearn for him, but the fervor tends to be one note. He wants to consume someone’s waking thoughts- like you do his. Like you consume Mark’s. He’s jealous of you, as are many people, and he hates that he loves you. But he can’t look away. Haechan watches Mark’s eyes rake over you in ravenous awe.

Unlike Haechan, Mark's mind is on one thing only. He’s twitching with anticipation, overcome with the desire to humiliate Haechan in front of you specifically. Just the thought of doing so puts a smile on his face which, when paired with the furrowing of his brows, makes him look absolutely sadistic.

A bead of sweat forms on your forehead, dripping downward and settling on your eyelid. Quickly, you wipe it away, only for another to immediately form in its place. Fuck. 

LOVE- LOVE.

Haechan serves, and it’s fast- you can hear the sheer force of it- but the ball hits the net. The sound that escapes his throat is akin to a growl. He takes another tennis ball out of his pocket, rubbing it against his thigh- a nervous tick of his- and Mark’s smirk deepens. 

Winter looks back at Mark and says something inaudible to you, then turns her attention back to Haechan. The look in her eyes makes the grip on your racket tighten. You bend your knees and dig your heels into the ground.

“Focus,” you tell Haechan in a hushed sort of whisper-yell.

“I am.”

He serves again and, this time, Haechan’s ball makes it over the net, nearly hitting Mark in the head. Mark returns the ball, but just so, slightly caught off guard by Haechan's erratic blow. You hit a sloppy backhand, barely getting the ball to the other side, and Winter hustles to track it. She volleys it back towards you, but you’re quick on the uptake, slicing both Winter and Mark as the ball lands just inside the doubles alley. You allow yourself a breathy grin.

30- LOVE. 

Mark throws down his racket in a fit.  Winter attempts to calm him down, spewing variations of “It’s okay, it’s just the first point” and “Shake it off”. The hand she has on his shoulder makes you nauseous. If this were an official match, he’d get a code violation for racket abuse- but it’s not. It’s a friendly competition, as Mark had pitched last night. 

Last night. It feels like a lifetime ago, like you had molten and shed numerous bodies since then, but the truth is that you can still feel his touch living under your skin. Feverish lips grazing the vastness of your body. Blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs. You were a few vodka sodas too deep when you had snuck off to Mark’s place in the dead of night, leaving Haechan fast asleep in your hotel room.

“Golden boy off his game today?” Haechan prods, tugging you out of your remembrance (for the best, you think).

“Shut up and play,” Mark says. He squares up to the net, knees pointed at Haechan.

Your serve. It’s not as powerful as Haechan’s, but it makes it over the net, the ball promptly returned by Winter. The four of you get swept away in a rally- the first point clearly a warm up on everyone’s part- grunts and expletives orchestrating an otherwise silent display of resentful longing.

It’s a cacophony of squeaking tennis shoes, the ball hitting the rackets, and your own panting as Winter tires you out. That’s her technique after all, to make her opponent work for it, and you stumble to return a particularly wayward stroke. The ball just barely kisses the frame of your racket, failing to properly hit it. You fall to your knees. 

30-30. 

Haechan bends down to comfort you, palm flat against your back. You feel your sweat slicken his hand, and his lips come to touch the shell of your ear, raspy voice fighting against the thumping of your heart as he whispers, “Don’t let her run you like that again. Don’t give him the pleasure.”

“Him”? Is he talking about Winter or Mark? All you can do is nod as you try to catch your breath. 

“Don’t give him the pleasure” echoes in your headspace like a mantra. “Hey… you gotta… faster,” Haechan says to you distantly, but you’re distracted- visions of the night prior flashing behind your eyelids.

Faster… faster… your arms are pinned above your head, Mark gripping you by the wrists as he hovers above you. “Faster,” you manage to plead in your drunken state.

Mark shakes his head slightly as he mouths your ear. “See, that’s the problem with that ‘coach’ of yours. You don’t wait for the ball to come to you. Always trying to be fast.” He says the word like it tastes bad. “Fast.”

“He’s not my coach,” you croak as Mark nuzzles into your neck, his exhales sending shivers down your spine.

“So it’s unsolicited advice,” Mark scoffs, “That sounds more like Haechan.” He bites you, enough to entice but not elicit the pleasure you’re desperate for. Your body arches towards him.

“Are we seriously talking about tennis right now?”

Mark moves down your abdomen, tongue dipping into your navel, then he drags the flat of it along the waistband of your shorts. “Depends,” Mark says, looking up at you from his precarious position. You evade his eyes.

“On what?” you ask.

“How often does he have you this way?” 

Your mouth opens to speak, but nothing comes out.

Mark hums, the vibration of it coursing through you torturously. “Then, yes.I’m talking about tennis.”

Haechan pulls you up from your knees, trading spots so he’s playing at half court and you’re back at the service line, watching Mark dry the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, toned abdomen exposed for half a second. He feels his mouth water and shifts his focus to you, seeing the way you bend over to tie your shoe. Mark’s eyes narrow in on where the hem of your skirt covers the inside of your thighs, hypnotized by the way the white fabric blows in the wind (and the bruise on your left wrist growing more purple with each passing minute).

You stand to serve, calling out the score again.

“Faster,” Haechan demands. “We need to tie it.” You exhale shakily, throwing up the ball, and try to smash it. But there’s too much topspin on your stroke. Fault. So you serve again. It hits the net again. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

30- 40. Match Point.

Haechan’s jumping in place, resisting the urge to slam his racket against the ground. With flared nostrils, he wordlessly directs you to return to the half court line and let him serve this time. You should’ve told him to do that last point, you think. Haechan’s serve has always been better than yours. Speed while maintaining accuracy. Not better than Mark’s, purely because of his strength, but a solid serve nonetheless. It’s a weakness of yours that agility and intuition makes up for only slightly, and usually the main focus of your practices with Haechan. 

He’s not your coach or your partner in any sense of the words- but he’s more than a friend. You think of the first time you kissed Haechan, a day or two after meeting in college, only for it to never be spoken about again. At least, not in words. It’s something you do occasionally; kiss and nothing more- save for wandering hands when one of you got too into it. Late nights where the other simply needed a warm body. Kisses used as a placeholder for someone else.

Like the night Mark broke the news that he’d be transferring colleges. He gets a tennis scholarship, full ride, leaving you and Haechan to slum it with tennis hobbyists- not the pros Mark got to brush shoulders with. You and Haechan drank a lot that night- under the guise of celebrating Mark, you guess. You kissed a lot that night too, both you and Haechan feeling hollow as you sloppily made out on his twin-sized bed. If you had been more disciplined, more willing to sacrifice as Mark had, you’d be at Stanford too. But, alas. Here you are three years into a business degree, mourning a dream deferred. 

A part of you would always resent Mark for leaving, but his raw talent is evident when Mark returns a particularly venomous serve from Haechan with tenured ease, the ball flying past you in a flash.

That’s game. Mark and Winter have won the match. 

Haechan wordlessly goes to get some water, sitting on the bench with his head to the sky and draping a towel over his shoulder. Winter does likewise, sitting beside him. Mark, however, meets you at the net. Your breath hitches.

“How’s school been?” Mark starts, but there’s layers of meaning refracting off the condescendingly mundane question. “Didn’t get to ask last night.”

“Fine. Made the Dean’s List last semester.” It’s true, but you don’t care much. You can feel Haehan’s stare burning the back of your neck. Winter’s too, as she tries to piece together the puzzle in front of her.

“I’d expect nothing less.” Then Mark says, “You still haven’t cleaned up that serve of yours?”

You shrug in response.

Mark nudges his head towards Haechan. On the bench, Haechan sits dejectedly, muttering to himself in between sips of water. “I know he's always been a sore loser but-”

“You and Winter?” you interject, cutting off Mark. Enough of the thinly veiled niceties. You can’t take it anymore. If something’s going on between them, you have to know. Otherwise, the image of her porcelain hand on his shoulder will be a mainstay in your thought spirals.

“No.” Mark says, understanding your inquiry despite its brevity. He clarifies further when you give him a look. “We haven’t slept together.”

You sigh. Out of relief or something else, you’re not sure. It’s not like you could be with Mark in any real way. Not as long as Haechan’s in the picture.

Mark smirks. “You and Haechan-”

“Stop it.”

“Have you? You didn’t answer my question last-”

Enough about last night. The casualness with which it’s being regarded is driving you mad. 

“What do you think?” you spit, voice laced with irritation.

“‘Who cares what I think? It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no question.” Mark shrugs.

Winter walks up to the net after having retrieved her water bottle and sunglasses. She looks very chic for someone who just kicked your ass in what’s supposed to be your best sport. “Good match,” she says. “Your stamina’s impressive.”

“Haven’t rallied like that in a while,” you reply, lips tight. You shake her hand, noting how fragile it feels. “Going pro?”

Winter gestures to Mark, pointing a thumb at him. “This guy’s been trying to convince me, but I’m playing local tournaments for funsies lately. You?”

“Definitely not. That dream escaped me years ago.” you confess. When Mark left, particularly. 

Haechan too walks up to the net, seeming as though he’s cooled down until he says, “Didn’t know you were gonna be here, Mark. Or that your parents moved back.” If he’s made any attempt at hiding his anger, he’s done so very poorly. The tension is eating you alive.

Mark’s shit-eating grin returns. “Is that why you two served three faults collectively? So excited to see me that you can’t play properly?”

Haechan rolls his eyes.“Fuck you.”

“I’m sure you’d love that, Haechan, but I don’t swing that way.” 

“Very funny, Mark,” Winter remarks sarcastically. “Ready to go?”

You butt in as well, wanting to be anywhere else but here. “Yeah, great match, you two. Wanna head out, Haech-” But Haechan’s eyes are locked on Mark.

“Touring this year?” Haechan asks, a blush burning across his plump cheeks. 

Mark leans on the net, chin in hand and looks at Haechan coyly. “Yep, trying to get my rank higher this year. Aiming for #20.” 

Not wholly over-ambitious on his part. In fact, you think he could do better. 

“Well, good luck to you.” With that, Haechan turns to leave the court, and you follow closely behind, gathering your things as you do so.

“Let’s play, Donghyuck!” Mark yells, just as the two of you reach the fence door. Haechan freezes at the use of his real name. ”You and me. One on one. Just like the old days.”

Haechan whips around, shouting back at Mark hoarsely. “I don’t need this like you need it. I have nothing to prove.”

“Then play.”

Haechan concedes, dropping his bag at his feet and running to position, leaving you to watch the two men from the court's entrance. You’re frozen in time, memories of the two of them in highschool fogging your vision.

LOVE- LOVE.  

Mark’s serve. Just before he throws the ball, he stops, looking at Haechan with tempered ferocity. The corner of his mouth twitches upward as he says  “Did _____ tell you where they disappeared to last night?” Then he hits it- an ace that lands squarely in the service box. Untouched by Haechan.

Haechan looks at you with wild eyes, privy to the shame written all over your features. Winter looks between the three of you in confusion. After throwing down his racket, Haechan bounds to the net, face to face with Mark. Their lips are nearly touching. 

“You’re getting off on all of this, huh?” Haechan questions. “The bragging? The smirking? Galavanting around in your ugly ass Polo?”

Mark’s nose brushes against Haechan’s as he speaks. “Very much so. C’mon, dude. Let’s just play.”

Haechan rips himself away from Mark’s visage, walking off the court for good this time, and you follow, shoulder checking Mark on the way out.

“Hey, _____,” Mark calls after you, “Had a good time last night!”

By the time you catch up to Haechan in the facility’s locker room, you’re panting like you were during the match. For a moment, you and Haechan exchange nothing but ragged breaths, unsure of where to go from here. Last night. Fuck last night.

“Where’d he kiss you?” Haechan asks.

You bristle. “What?”

Haechan takes your face in his hands. “Where did Mark touch you?”

“I-I… Everywhere,” you confess in a murmur. Slowly, Haechan walks you backwards, with your face still in his hand. When your back hits the locker, the two of you linger there, chests heaving frantically in the summer heat. Then, Haecan takes your hand, kissing the bruise on your left wrist, all while maintaining eye contact. 

“Be more specific. Point,” he demands. So you do.

You point to the column of your neck, your collar bones, your stomach, your hips, the insides of your thighs. Haechan explores the expanse of your body, replacing Mark’s reverence from the night before with adoration of his own- a trail of fire left in each bite’s wake. He does so until you're whimpering from the rawness- until all remnants of Mark have been etched over with his teeth and lips.

Haechan envisions Mark laying waste to your body, and he’s jealous in ways that confuse even himself. Why’d you have to leave last night?

“I’m sorry I lost the match.” Haechan says when finally pulls away. Your body is littered in flecks of purple.

“You didn’t lose me,” you say. 

(But did he ever truly have you to begin with?)

[lexisecretaccx]

High School Sweethearts Pt.4 - Chris Sturniolo

PT1, PT2, PT3, PT5, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, PT10, (rest of the parts on my Masterlist)

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, Evan alert💀, kinda cute at the end? I don’t know what else tbf)

A/n: I wanted this part to be slightly more longer and substantial so grab tissues and a punching bag and all aboard the emotional rollercoaster xoxo (thought I’d add the other parts up here in the parts in case anybody new wants to access part 1,2 and 3 easier)

It was Evan.

“Come here.” He whispers to me, I swallow before walking up to him, fear overcoming me. “I thought you went outside.” I speak quietly, looking down at my feet.

“Shit y/n you can’t even look at me? What about everything we went through?” He says slowly and clearly. I scoff, “what?” He demands as he grits his teeth. “Nothing, what do you want?” I mumble. “You and Chris, what’s going on there huh?” He blinks at me, I look at him finally and feel shivers go through my body.

“Nothing.” I speak quietly with a tremble in my voice. I can’t help but be utterly terrified of him, he switches up so quickly and after what he did I can’t trust him. “What? I can’t hear you? Speak up y/n.” Those words ring through my head, the same words he spoke that night. “Nothing.” I repeat louder, in a more wobbly voice.

My eyes glaze over as those words replay through my mind bringing back memories of what happened and what could’ve happened. “No need to yell sweetheart.” He stated, smirking at me.

I go to walk away but he grips my wrist and lifts it up to him, “it’s rude to walk away from someone when they’re talking to you.” He spoke through his gritted teeth, the vein in his forehead reddening and I feel tears drip down my cheeks.

“There is something going on because why was he so close to you?” He pulls me closer so I’m inches away from him and can feel his cold breath fanning over my face, “sorry for not making him stand on the other side of the hallway” I say sarcastically.

“I could just fucking..” his grip tightens on my wrist before we are interrupted by someone. “Is there a problem here?” Mr Rockwell tilts his head and Evan lets my wrist go.

“No sir.” He smiles with his chest puffed out, “maybe you should be on your way, your grades need improving.” Mr Rockwell does a sarcastic smile and Evan just walks away, Mr Rockwell’s smile drops and his face switches to concern.

“Was he bothering you?” He speaks lowly, I nod and wipe the tears out my eyes. “If you need to talk I’ll be in my classroom, I’ll forget that you left your detention early with that Sturniolo boy.” I smile, feeling relieved. “Thank you.” I speak breathily. Mr Rockwell offers to escort me to my next class but I don’t want to burden him so I head to my next class alone.

Chris’ POV

I sit in English literature, feeling happy about my conversation with y/n this morning. “Chris.” My teacher says, I bring my focus to her and hum in confusion, “can you answer the question?” I look to the board and shake my head, “sorry Miss, you know I’m shit at reading.” I laugh awkwardly. Her face stiffens.

“Language!” She raises her voice and points at the door. “Wait out there I’ll have to talk to you about your continued use of inappropriate language.” I hear kids in my class snickering and whispering, I roll my eyes and slip out my seat and wait outside the door.

I look at the colourful board on the wall to distract myself. I hear voices coming down the hallway but I don’t take my focus off the board, “yeah and she started crying bro..” Evan laughs, his friend Michael scoffs, “it’s her fault she was talking back. What a..” his eyes dart to me and he stops speaking.

I look over to them, I have a feeling I know who they’re talking about. “Oh shit.” Evan laughs, “someone’s been bad?” He teases and his friend chuckles, my brows knit together.

“High school bad boy I think, don’t you Michael?” Evan mimicked, “keep walking Evan.” I say monotonously. “I’m terrified honestly,” Evan jokes, “I had a run in with your little girlfriend this morning.” My heart drops and I turn to them. “She’s not my girlfriend, how many times do I have to repeat myself?” I said.

Evan laughs “I don’t care, do you know what she said to me Chris? She said she didn’t like you that way!” My jaw tightens, I know he’s lying. “You’re not a good liar.” I speak slowly.

“Fine, what really happened is she was scared of me and cried,” he fake pouted “I would say she’s a bit of a drama queen isn’t that true?” He looks to his friend who’s laughing and nodding. She had every right to be scared after what he tried to do.

“She’s dramatic as fuck and honestly, I wouldn’t date her Chris, she won’t do anything with you, she’s a pussy.” He spits, I curl my hands into a fist as I walk up to Evan and go to swing for him before my classroom door opens and my teacher walks out. “Gentlemen, return to class.” She says to them.

Evan cracks his neck before smirking and walking away, Michael following after him like a little dog. “Care to explain Mr Sturniolo?” She questions me. “They were talking shit about this girl that I kinda have something with but it’s not something at the same time. They were talking about her like she was just an object. How can they do that?” I ask, feeling sadness wash over me.

My teacher nods her head, “that’s a pattern with society these days, just go back inside.” She sighs. “Oh, okay.” I don’t argue and walk back into the class. “Thank you” I whisper as she passes me.

Y/n’s POV

It’s lunchtime and as per usual I go and sit in the library on my own. I don’t have many friends as most the girls are bitches who constantly shit talk the others when they aren’t there, and I’ve had problems with a few of them.

High school is hard.

I pull out the granola bar I picked up this morning and start to eat it, reading the math book I picked off the shelf to study for the test. “Thought I’d find you in here,” a familiar voice, my head jolts up and I smile when I see Chris infront of me. “You okay?” He asks me with concern and takes the seat opposite me.

“Yeah of course I am.” I lie while holding my false smile, he tilts his head and shakes it slightly. “No you’re not.” He pulls his chair in closer as I sigh and discard the granola bar into my bag. “I uh,” he leans forward on the table to me “I heard that you and Evan had a ‘run in’ or something.” He downplays the worry in his voice but it’s still evident on his face.

“Oh yeah, that was nothing.” I shrug it off before closing the book in front of me and directing my attention fully to Chris. “I bumped into him and Michael in the hallway, it didn’t seem like nothing the way he was talking about it.” He turns the books to face him so he can read it. Michael, that must be Evan’s friend’s name.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, please?” I look up at him and his eyebrows are knitted together as he try’s to read the title of the book. He lifts his head up and nods reassuringly “This is that Algae-bra shit isn’t it?” He asks, smiling softly. “Algebra Chris.” I correct him and laugh. “See I knew I could make you smile.” He leans back in his chair and takes in the surroundings.

“So what exactly do you do in a library?” He looks at all of the bookcases. “Reading, studying obviously.” I scoff and smirk as Chris scratches the back of his head awkwardly, “oh yeah.. I knew that.” He trails off looking at the delicate designs on the ceiling.

“How did they paint that without it dripping down onto them?” He asks, I roll my eyes and laugh, “probably used a towel? I don’t know Chris,” he looks back at me and grins “why are you asking me stupid questions?” I pondered as I continued to laugh. He shrugs and joins in laughing.

We continue to laugh and joke for a good 5 minutes before the library assistant hobbles over to us and Shushes us loudly causing Chris to swing his head around to face her. “Be quiet.” She spoke sternly and in a loudened voice. “Says you.” Chris talks back and I lean over the table and hit his arm. He turns back to me and mimes, “what she..” And I shake my head trying to hold in a laugh.

“Out.” She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at Chris. “Me?” He asks in a tone of disbelief. She nods and looks at me. “You can stay but next time be quieter.” Chris slowly walks to the doors and motions his hand for me to come with him. I roll my eyes and pack up my bag, placing the book on the shelf and quickly walking to the doors.

“I can’t believe you just got kicked out of a library.” I say shocked. He smiles “maybe the old hag needs to let kids have fun, because if I’m being honest we weren’t even loud, she spoke louder than we laughed. Like come on.” He chuckles and I let out a breath, “it’s a library Chris what do you expect?”

“I’ve never been in a library properly y/n, how am I supposed to know?” He turns to me and raises his hands in a confused motion. “That I can believe.” I muttered under my breath. “What did you say?” He asks me, squinting his eyes, “I said you should know the rules of a library.” I lie before smirking.

“Okay sure you did.”

We turn the corner and theres a clock on the wall so I check the time. 10 minutes left of lunch break. “What do you wanna do?” He asks me, taking me out of my daydream. “Well I don’t know, what do you have this next period?” I look up at him as he bites his lip thinking. “I think we have science.” He nods.

“Ugh I forgot about that, I hate that teacher she’s horrible.” I complain. “Let’s just skip it then.” Chris suggests. I turn my head to him and widen my eyes, “we will get in trouble Chris.” He rolls his neck, “come on it’s only the last lesson, and wouldn’t you want me to take you out for some lunch?” He smiles at me, “because half a granola bar doesn’t seem so substantial.” He adds on.

“Fine, but I don’t have any money on me.” I say, he stops walking and leans down to me, “I said I’ll take you out for lunch, so I’m paying.” He didn’t give me an option to try and pay him back.

“Okay thank you.” We start walking down the hallway.

“I knew you weren’t just friends! Spending lunch together as-well? Come on Chris don’t lie to us we’re your friends.” Evan shouts from down the hallway and I look to see him, Nate, Michael and Matt. Matt sticks out from them as he is quiet and sweet and doesn’t dress like a complete douche. “Fuck outta here Evan, Matt and Nate are my friends, you two just follow us around like little lost puppies.” Evan looks around for them to defend him but all I see is Matt chuckling to himself. “I’ll see you at home Matt.” Chris waves them off and I smile at Matt as he waves back.

“You should’ve denied it, they’re gonna take that and run with it.” I whispered, “I’m taking you out for lunch, let them do what they want.” He grins and we walk out the door into the cold Boston air.

“What about your skateboard?” I remember, “I’ll just get it tomorrow morning, I can walk to school.” He assures me, “so what food do you like?” I look up at him and shrug, still feeling nervous since I’m skipping a lesson.

“You good?” He asks me, placing his hand on my shoulder before removing it shortly after, I nod “yeah sorry I’m just worried that I’ll get in trouble.”

“I’ve done this enough times to know that they really don’t care.” He try’s to comfort me with his words but instead I laugh, “you’re a bad influence Chris.” He scoffs as if I offended him and puts his hand on his heart.

“Your words hurt y/n.” He says trying to contain his smile, “shut up.” I joke. “Remember who’s taking you on a date right now hm?”

“Since when is it a date?” I ask raising one eyebrow.

“Since I remembered I needed to take you on one.”

A/n: this part was an emotional rollercoaster. Raise your hand if u hate Evan 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️ I hope u liked this part, the next one should be.. interesting😉. Mr Rockwell rare W?

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[thequietkid-moonie]

Affectionate S/O

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Fubuki, Shouko ]

[ One Punch Man ] [ Komi-san can't comunicate ]

Despite the fact that im incredibly affectionate I had some troubles to write this because i didn't know how to express it hahaha

Please remember that i only write for gender neutral, and I don't write for Tatsumaki so she's out

Anyways, it was interesting to write, hope you enjoy!

Fubuki

Fubuki is a rather prideful woman, she holds a lot of pride for her power and what she had achieved on the hero fundation, however she is rather emotional too, deep down she feels insecure and tent to doubt herself some times, so when she actually gets into a relationship is with someone she trust and knows can show her more vulnerable side

Just as she holds pride from her powers she also holds pride from her relasionship, she loves you dearly and doesn't has problem with showing to everyone how a wonderful partner she has, and yet when is you the one talking good of her she actually gets flustered rather easily

Fubuki shows a prideful expression whenever she is bragging about you with others (even when her subordinates) but whenever she is with you her expression softens, even when she speak with the same determination and pride there is a lot of love in her behavior. She lets herseft be vulnerable with you, so you showing so much love and affection during those times goes directly towards her heart

Fubuki can easily handle compliments, telling herself that she used to them for her position and power, but the truth is that deep inside of her is making her heart go faster, she is more used to feel like nothing compared to her sister so reciving sincere compliments from someone she loves hits her harder that how she likes to admit, it make her feel special and loved

Telling her that you love her directly makes her more flustered and can catch her off guard, it quickly make her flustered but still she tries to keep her composture (funny because her cheeks are all red), specially if you two are in public (her subordinates just get used to seeing you being affectionate with her and see her all flustered, they normally don't say nothing about it but they share some silly smiles with each other, happy for you two)

Being physicaly affectionate towards her has an even bigger effect on her, that makes her more flustered but she never fails to return the gesture, she prefer if you dont do it in public because of her reputation and because she can't resist the urge to cuddle you and kiss you more whenever you are being so cute, physical affection out of nowhere always catch her off guard, even if you already were by her side, however there are also some times where she is the one initiating the affection (that doesn't mean she wont be a little blushy)

She doesn't mind at all you being affectionate, in fact she really enjoy it, but prefer if you do it whenever is just the two of you or at least out of her work, she just can get easily distracted by you and she doesn't want to take the risk of you getting in danger because she couldn't concentrate in her surroundings

Shouko Komi

Shouko suffer from a severe anxiety, what lead her to have a lot of difficulties in her day by day, still that doesn't stop her from loving you and wanting to be with you

It would take her a lot from her to be able to get used to be in a relationship, but as much as it make her feel anxious and even insecure she tries her best to overcome her insecurities and take some steps forward, trying to show you her love in diferent ways, however your affectionate behavior doesn't make things easy for her

Shouko isn't used to affection, most part of her family aren't physicaly affectionate and just shows their care and love in their own indirect ways, so suddenly having someone who is actively and openly affectionate towards her is really new, it make her feel really anxious because she doesn't know how to answer, it would take her a while to get used to it

Shouko is more used to don't have friends and be ignored, and suddenly being in the spotlight is dificult for her, most of the time she relay on you and in Hitohito for comfort whenever it came to trying new things (but she is slowly improving to be more open), and since you two are dating she relay more on you now, however she freeze whenever you are affectionate to her in an attempt to comfort her or make her feel safe, she wants to run away and hide for feeling flustered but at the same time she just want to melt under your loving touch

In other cases, where you are affectionate and shows her love just because you felt like it isn't different, everytime she is shocked, staring at you for a moment before nervously trying to think on what to do, should she say something? Should she return the gesture? Should just stand there? Can she run away to try and hide her inmense blush?

Being affectionate with words, by telling her how much you love her or compliments are easier to handle for her, it will flustered her (specially if you insist on what you tell her) but definetly is something she can handle, but being physicaly affectionate is more difficult for her to handle, she will freeze until she finally fully process what it is happening and is able to return the gesture, shy and completely flustered but she does return the gesture (or at least try)

As much as she gets flustered and even anxious, Shouko doesn't want you to stop, she loves any loving gesture you have with her, she probably freeze in the spot and become a blushing mess but she totally love it, if you try to stop yourself from showing affection in attempt to don't make her feel anxious, like diminishing your affection, stoping at half way or even apologizing it would affect her more than the actual affection, she grows to love it quite a lot and she can actually feel the lack of it, she will try to win the courage to tell you to please don't stop, she does want you to continue being affectionate, she wants to melt under your embrace and heard you tell her sweet nothings (well, that last part she isn't able to actually say it)

Requested by @the-ultimate-puppteer