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bimswritings · 4 years ago

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Armorer x (Blacksmith) Reader 1/2

Warnings:Canon Typical violence

A/n: I had so much fun writing this! If anyone has fic recs for her send them my way! The next part of the Savage series and a new chapter of Our Way will come out next week!

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The Armorer had experienced more in her lifetime than anyone else would care to. She had watched the rise and fall of small rebellions, crushed under the foot of the Empire. Seen her people hunted and killed until their numbers weren’t even fractions of what the great tribe of warriors once was. Chaos and bloodshed, hiding and waiting, had become as normal as breathing to her. That’s not to say she missed the many good things that happened.

The sounds of foundlings and young ones as they ran through the halls of the covert, not yet burdened by the responsibilities of adulthood, acted as a reminder that her people were still alive. And there was no greater sense of peace to be had then when they would all meet in the karyai and dine together like the family they were.

Well, except for her forge.

Her forge was a sacred place. Not only for her but for the others as well. It was here that the most important and private of discussions were held. Talks about individuals as well as the coven as a whole. Who would go out and hunt, what responsibilities would be given to who, and where they would go for their next supply run to get food and medicine. It was important that they never went to the same place too many times, least someone followed them back, and the amount always had to be different as to not let in on their numbers.

All these choices, all this planning, was run through her. Their Armorer. Their Alor. They trusted her with their lives, leaning on her as an elder would a walking stick. Despite the immense pressure put on her, she never let it show. Never asked for anything in return. Seeing her people happy was enough to keep her strong, and looking towards the future instead of the horrors of the past.

Besides, when she watched the bigger picture, it left the others able to focus on the smaller things. Namely the continuation of their tribe, which they were doing an outstanding job on if her current project was anything to go by.

The three pieces she was working on would fit together perfectly. Though each their own unique piece, they were all made from one base ore.

The mother would come to possess the intricate dagger currently sitting off to the side, being highly skilled in close quarter combat it would serve her well. The handle of the blade would slide smoothly in the bottom of her eagle-eyed riduur’s blaster, and make it even more dangerous than before. The weapon would have no weaknesses, each piece supporting the other, and be usable in any scenario. Of course they would still need a way to be locked in place. Something that would make the connection between the two weapons stronger. The insignia would be worn by the child until they died, and then given to their closest of kin, be it friend, lover, or child. It was of the mother’s clan, which they would all take the name of, and the metal ranicor already shone with a radiant pride as she pulled it from the blue flames, quenching it the basin of oil beside her.

It would fit at the juncture, locking the weapons in place with an unbreakable bond.

The two adults would present each other with the weapons, a symbol of their promise to protect one another both in and out of battles. Then, together, they would tie the insignia to the child with a leather thread. The only addition would be a Mythosaur skull, which they would receive should they take up the creed of the Mandalorian. If not, they would still bear the mark of their clan and wear it with pride.

It was hard work, but the Armorer would do it all over again in a heartbeat. After all, the exchanging of vows between two Mandalorians was enough cause for a celebration, but for the same couple to have a claiming ceremony of a foundling at the same time? It had sent the enter tribe into a nest of bustling activity in preparation. The elders were particularly excited, constantly coming in to inform her of any updates or changes.

It was one of them that she had expected when she heard footsteps enter her forge, not the young warrior she was faced with when she turned around.

“What can I help you with, child?” For a young Mandalorian such as himself to enter without invitation or a offering to the tribe, it must be of grave importance.

He remained kneeling as he spoke, head bowed in respect to his Alor.

“Alor, I have heard troubling news during my patrol. A matter I fear has to deal with the pride of the Mandalorian name.”

Underneath the helmet, her brows furrowed though he could not see it. From his tone, he seemed almost hesitant to deliver the news, and she waited silently for him to continue.

“There...there’s been word that another possess the armor of a Mandolrian a few parsecs over on the moon of Quilon.” He swallowed thickly, audible even through the modulator, before continuing.

“Someone not of any tribe or clan, nor a foundling or anyone who claims our identity.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and the Armorer couldn’t blame the heat rising within her on the fire she had been previously toiling over for so many hours without issue. Though she concealed it well, any who knew her, who could tell by the way her helmet tilted up or how her shoulders squared slightly, knew that she was absolutely furious.

“Then we must retrieve it immediately.”

“Of course, Alor. Which of the warriors would you like me to retrieve so they may be briefed.”

“None.” She replied, hooking her tools into her belt, moving to grab her cloak from it’s hook, where it had been previously gathering dust.

“Alor?” He questioned. She had told him that they would retrieve it, but if she wanted none of the warriors then how would they?

“It is time that people are reminded of who we were. Who we are. Though we remain hidden in our covert, we are not weak. We bide our time until we once again rise.”

She tucked an extra blaster into her belt, though she knew the weapon would come second to her hammer. If it turned into an altercation of shots rather than strength, she would be prepared.

“I will retrieve it myself, and make an example of those that thought they could tarnish our name.”

With that she was gone, stalking down the maze of corridors on a warpath. Everyone who saw her coming was quick to jump out of the way. If there was one thing more dangerous than an angry Mandalorian, it was an enraged Armorer.

__________________________________

Landing the ship just outside the town, the Armorer followed the coordinates given to her before leaving.

Just like every other planet in their system, Quilon was nothing special. Another small rock in space abandoned by the Empire and left to be overrun by bandits. Though their presence here was even more prevalent than on Nevarro.

She paid no mind to the eyes that followed her from the shadows, hidden under masks and hats and behind drinks as she made a direct line to the center bar.

The man behind the counter was an aged Weequay, his already wrinkled skin dull but still showing the strength that lay in the muscle underneath. Though old, he was clearly someone who could still hold his own against any patron who had too many glasses of brandy.

He had no hesitance in walking up to her, despite clearly knowing who she was a part of.

“What can I do for you?”

She placed a stack of credits on the counter, gently sliding the pile over to him.

“I’ve heard that someone here has the armor of a Mandalorian. I wish to know where to find them so that we may...talk.”

The Weequay picked up the pile,clinking the metal as he tested the weight before looking back towards the Armorer.

“A matter of great importance for you, I’m sure. However, the person you seek is also of great importance.”

Silently, she reached into her pouch and retrieved a few more credits, the clinking sound they made as they were deposited with the others into his waiting hand causing a smile to stretch his face, revealing a number of missing teeth.

“You’ll find your person on the far west side of town. The shop will be located just a bit out. Had to relocate it with all the noise bothering the townsfolk.” He laughed, turning back to his other patrons as he deposited the money. “Just follow the cursing.”

Twenty minutes and another exchange of information later, the Armorer found herself in front of a shop reading ‘Galactic Metalworks’.

If she had been angry before, she was positively fuming now. For someone who was supposed to have an understanding and appreciation for all things forged, the fact that they would have Mandalorian beskar, undoubtedly knowing its importance and what is signified, was the ultimate insult.

She could only hope that they would have enough sense not to have tempered with the armor, else she would have to hold herself back from killing them too quickly.

She walked through the door, pulling the fabric flap aside as she stepped inside. Instantly she was greeted with the sight of a surprisingly organized space, with weapons of all kinds lining the walls and a case displaying more decorative items sitting just behind what she assumed was the front counter.

There was no one in sight, prompting her to move further into the shop. As she passed, she couldn’t help but admire the works as she went. Though more elegant than what she would have done with some, there was no doubt about the quality of each item. Every blade, trigger, and handle was carefully shaped and sharpened, each having a softness that one would not expect of such weapons. It seemed to be the artist's signature stamp, present in everything she saw.

He attention was drawn away from the shining metals as a loud, and rather brash, string of curses flowed from the back of the shop. Once again reminded of her reason for coming here. The Armorer walked past the counter and its items, following the sounds of metal being hammered around the corner to reveal an open aired forge.

There you stood, in all your soot stained and sweaty glory, cursing like a Trandoshian pirate as you inspected the item before you. A crude imitation of a helmet, she realized, though the eyes were horrendously off center and uneven, and being far too long for any but a Kaminoan to wear without hitting their shoulders.

Were you really the same person who had made all the items out front?

No. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that. She was here for business.

The intention was for her to take you by the element of surprise, leaving no room for a fight with the point of her hammer pressed into the vulnerable skin above your carotid. That was thrown out the window before she could even reach for the weapon as you quickly turned around, eyes locking onto her and going wide before frantically backpedaling.

As luck would have it, the hammer you had been previously using was knocked from its stand and clattered to the floor, being stepped on and causing you to tumble.

Narrowly missing falling into the forge itself, your head still cracked painfully against its stand and your vision went black. By the time it cleared enough for you to stop seeing stars and your brain to process what had just happened, you found the very person who had startled you into such a state standing above you, feet on either side of your hips as a hammer was pointed dangerously at your face.

“H-hey!” You managed to stutter out, still dizzy and most likely concussed. “No need for that!”

Holding your hands up in an act of surrender and defense, should they still decide to attack, you balanced your weight onto your elbows despite the way it sent your head spinning.

They said nothing, only staring down through their owl-shaped visor as the golden shine of the helmet cast rays of brilliant light around the forge. Despite the situation, you could help but admire the stunning craftsmanship of the piece with envy. Each spike, every curve, was so beautifully done.

“I know you’re here for the armor, and I can get it for you! It’s right here!”

The Mandalorian remained still for a moment, contemplating, before moving back enough to let you get up, exchanging their hammer for a blaster, keeping it trained on your figure as you slowly rose and moved to the far wall.

Producing a key from beneath your apron, you moved one of the many boxes and unlocked a hatch hidden beneath. From there, you produced a chest that had yet another lock on it, setting it on your workbench and placing the key beside it. Backing away with your hands held up one again, the Mandalorian moved closer to the chest.

Hidden under the helmet, you couldn't see the way her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, laced with a hint of curiosity. You had gone through quite the effort of hiding it. Without your guide she might not have found the hatch, which had blended so well into the floor that when you had first moved the box she hadn’t seen it even with the filters of her visor. Why give it up so easily when you could have easily denied even having it in the first place, and no evidence to say otherwise?

Unlocking the box, she was even more surprised by what she found inside. While keeping a watch on where your figure had backed into the corner, she began shuffling through each item, peeling back layer after layer of fabric until she had constructed a full suit of beskar. Not only was it stored with such care, the metal skillfully wrapped to prevent one item from damaging another if jostled around, but it appeared to have been freshly cleaned by a polish well known and used almost exclusively by smiths. It was meant to bring out the best shine and remove any scuff to increase the appeal and chances of someone buying the item.

“Where did you get this.” She put the items back in their case, closing it before turning back to where you were, blaster now lowered to her hip but ready to raise and fire in an instant.

“Bought it from some pirates who stopped by here to refuel.” You squeaked out. Despite knowing that all Mandalorians were warriors, you were still surprised to hear a woman's voice come from the helmet. The way she carried herself with such confidence and strength, you could only imagine the prestige and skill she had to back it up.

“I would have returned it sooner, but you guys are kind of hard to find.” You attempted to joke, letting out a nervous laugh as you shakily smiled. “I tried to keep it on the down low as much as I could to keep others from trying to come and take it. Paid a kid to let it slip when he saw one of you at a cantina you’re known to frequent.”

The Armorer tilted her head slightly, still not believing you completely.

“Why not sell it, or melt it down for your own use?” She gestured to the space around you, at all the projects currently displayed or were waiting to be finished.

Your own brows knitted in confusion, as if you couldn’t believe why she was asking you that, and in reality you couldn’t.

“Well, I respect you too much.” Your shoulders shrugged lightly. “Growing up, my father told me all the stories of your culture, your people and what the armor meant to you. How it was more than just a piece of equipment, that it was like an extension of your own body and identity. Rather poetically, he would always put it.”

A small laugh made its way past your lips, taking the Armorer by surprise.

“If he could have met one of you and studied the armor he would have died of happiness. Probably would have even sworn an oath and donned the armor himself if he had the chance, no hesitation.”

Any thoughts of ill intention from before were reduced to nothing in the Armorer’s mind. The way you had spoken so fondly when describing your admiration for her culture, the same way you had when speaking of your father, was so gentle and sincere. Even if you had a helmet like hers she would have been able to tell just by your voice.

“You have my thanks for keeping it in such good condition until we were able to collect it. I know my people would share my sentiment if they were here.” She dipped her head in thanks, missing the blush that spread across your face at the action.

“It was no trouble at all, really! I hope you don’t mind but I did study it before hiding it away.” You nodded to the crude helmet she had found you swearing at when she had first entered. “As you can see, my attempts were less than successful. It’s like my father always said; If I could make armor the way I could make everything else, I would be far too dangerous.”

The Armorer silently agreed. If the display in the front of the shop was anything to go by, if you were able to make armor then you could potentially even give her a run for her credits.

“You are quite skilled in your craft. It would be a sight to see how you would interpret your own armor.”

“Rather poorly.” You laughed once again, and the Armorer found herself straining to hear its cheerful air, much to her own embarrassment.

It was time she left. She had gotten what she had come for, so there was no reason for her to stick around any longer. The more time she was away from the covert the more worried she became, mentally berating herself for being so ill-tempered and short sighted to have stormed here right away without thinking much of how the others would fare without her presence. Paz should keep a good handle on things, but it was still best not to be gone much longer.

Before she could excuse herself though, you had dropped the helmet you had previously been sourly glaring at and focused back on her, excitement evident as a bright gleam shone in your eyes.

“You must have come quite a way to get here! Please, allow me to compensate you for having to come out to such a place.”

The Armorer tried to argue, to explain that it hadn't been a problem and that the beskar being back where it belonged was enough, but you wouldn’t listen, pushing her to the front of the store and practically demanding that she choose at least one of the items to take with her.

“They are all so well crafted. I could not even begin to know where to choose.”

Humming, you closed your eyes in thought before bounding back towards the forge, yelling over your shoulder for her to keep browsing while you went looking for something.

So she did, walking up and down and displays, taking in all the weapons and items as she duly noted that your leather work seemed to be just as good as your smithing if the wrapped handles and weapons holsters were anything to go by. Any choice that she made would make a fine addition to their armory, and Paz would be overjoyed with each item, though she made a mental note not to let him learn of your shop. The last thing she needed was him coming here and spending all the tribe’s money on your works, undoubtedly scarring you with his sheer size and gruffness as well.

It was in the middle of her browsing that a flash of color caught her eye. Many of the metals you worked with were the same shades of grey and black, even the occasional gold. But there, amongst the sea of cold steel in the display case, was the warmth of bronze. She moved closer despite knowing that nothing she would find there would be beneficial for the tribe. It was as if it were a magnet though, pulling her closer by the metal covering nearly every part of her.

The item was less flashy than those surrounding it, simple and to the point, if jewelry could be described that way. The charm was a small rectangle, no longer than an inch and less than a quarter of which thick. In elegant and delicately etched letters was the word ‘loyalty’. Nothing else.

“I never took you for someone to appreciate jewelry.”

She started, helmet looking up to see you coming back from your forge. In your hands was a cloth, wrapped around what could be anything.

“I was admiring the work. The detail is remarkably clean despite its size.”

“It's been here a while. Not many people come here looking for something other than weapons, and those who do usually want something a bit more eye catching. One of my favorite works though.”

Putting the item down, her attention turns to the bundle you’ve placed on the table. Carefully, you unwrap the fabric to reveal the blade underneath. The blade itself is silver, coming to a spearpoint tip without so much as a chip. It’s longer than a normal throwing knife but shorter than one would typically consider a dagger to be.

“My own take on a vibroblade. Easier to throw but still small enough to be easily concealed.” You hold it out, prompting her to take it.

The handle fit in her palm like a glove, as if it were molded specifically for her. The weight was perfectly balanced, allowing her to switch into a reverse grip and back with ease. At just a glance she could tell that the ridge was perfectly straight, ensuring a smooth flight through the air to its target.

“From my own collection. I figured if a Mandalorian was going to use it, then nothing but my best work would suffice.” You took the blade back, wrapping and binding it before placing it in the chest alongside the armor.

“Your hospitality knows no bounds. I am glad our meeting can end on such terms.”

Waving your hand, you brush away the compliment despite the burning of your cheeks. Something you blamed on the heat of the forge.

“It was the least I could do. If you’re ever out here again, don’t hesitate to stop by. It can get rather lonely out here.” The forlorn expression you took on despite your ever present smile pulled at something inside the Mandalorian. Something she had not felt in a long time.

“Though don’t expect another free weapon if you do. I have a business to run after all.”

“Of course.” She said, allowing you to lead her to the door, holding the fabric as she passed through.

The whole walk back, her mind was on you. Even after she had boarded her ship and set course for home, arriving much quicker than she expected, she was thinking of you. The fact that there were still those out there that thought of and revered her people as you had, it gave her hope that not all creatures in the universe were against them.

The others were eagerly waiting for her arrival when she returned, following as she made her way back to the forge where she would store the beskar until it was decided what to do with it.

“Did you kill them and take their weapon as well?” Paz questioned when she handed him the blade, immediately pulling it out to admire the item.

She didn’t answer, focused on putting away her haul and moving to clean up her space. Leaving so quickly had resulted in a cluttered mess for her to come back to, and she once again found herself cursing her temper. Traveling far distances was something she didn’t often do, and the experience had left her tired, wanting nothing more than to retreat to her chambers and rest. She had to make sure everything was in order before she did so though.

“What’s this?”

She turned, facing Paz as he held something in between his large fingers. She walked closer, eyes locking on to the item with laser focus.

Its familiar bronze sheen shone with a new brightness in the dim light, the etched words now hardly visible. She didn’t know when you had snuck it in, nor how you had when she had been right there the entire time.

So, for the first time in years, the Armorer took something for herself.

Plucking the small charm from his hand, she dismissed him, pulling the shutters of her shop down and leaving her mind to wander back to you as she caressed the cool metal, which did nothing to dampen the sparking embers in her kar’ta beskar.

__________________________________________________

In all honesty, you hadn’t been expecting the golden helmed Mandalorian to return to your shop. After nearly a month and a half of seeing not even the faintest glimpse of beskar you had given up hope of ever seeing her again. Sure, you were still hopeful, but when you entered your shop for some late night smithing and found the silent warrior leaning against the outside wall you nearly screamed. If it hadn’t been for the light of the flames reflecting off her helmet you wouldn’t have even realized she was there.

“I’m sorry. You just took me by surprise. I don’t get visitors this late.’’

She tilted her head, gesturing for you to continue her work and decline the offer for a seat. Nothing more was said as you got to work, soon shedding your long sleeves in favor of the cool night air that flowed in from the open wall, exposing your toned arms to the Mandalorian. It was something you had always been proud of, the muscle earned from years of bending and forming metal with precise blows from your hammer.

After a few minutes of watching, the woman began moving about the shop, taking her time to inspect every inch of the workspace. Your previous encounter hadn’t left much time for her to admire it. Even though it was far less sophisticated and more worn than her own, she still felt a sense of familiarity within its heat, finding herself wondering if you would have a familiar feeling in hers.

The thought was banished almost as quickly as it appeared. After all, an outsider not only entering the covert, but the armory as well? One of the most pivotal places of their people? Preposterous. She didn’t even know why she was here in the first place. One moment she was relaxing in a rare moment of peace she was allowed, and the next she was aboard her ship, coordinates for your shop already typed in.

From the corner of your vision, you watched as she approached your latest project; the same armor you had been working on for weeks. A warmth rose to your cheeks when you saw her inspecting it, picking up the helmet and rotating it between her hands.

The visor had been fixed a significant amount, she noted, but it was still shaky at best. Both sides were still uneven as they dipped down into a point at the chin, and anyone who wore it would have the top of their heads pinched by the too shallow curve of the top.

“Your work has improved.” She noted, voicing it more to herself than anything.

“Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I know it's not very good.”

“Not good no.” She admitted, setting the heavy helmet down and moving closer to where you were and setting every nerve on edge. “But there has been improvement, which shows that you’re learning.’’

Watching as you bent a thin metal pipe into shape, sparks flying everywhere as you didn’t even flinch when they landed on bare skin, then quenching it before moving over to your workbench and beginning to assemble it with an array of other items. She admired the speed and confidence with which you worked. Leaning against the wall, she watched as the weapon began to take shape under your hands.

Hours later, you were finished, a new blaster sitting before you. Just as beautiful and dangerous as the ones out front, with intricate vines crawling up the hilt and along the barrel, soldered on by your skillful hands before her very eyes.

“So, what can I help you with?” Turning towards the Armorer, you were surprised at how close she had gotten since you started, now almost touching and forcing you to crane your neck back to look her in the face.

“As much as I enjoy the company, I doubt you would come here without a reason.”

She remains silent for a moment, simply staring back at your smiling face before reaching around you to pick up the newly constructed blaster. The soft leather of her arm brushed your skin, and your nose picked up the familiar scent of forge iron from her gloves, causing your breath to catch in your throat as she turned the weapon in her hands.

“I have a proposition for you.” Her visor locked onto you, and despite the slight shiver of fear you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.

“You will make weapons for my people and repair any that need it. Should we need it, we will park our ships in your space and you will pick up anything we can not.”

Your brows rose as she rattled off the list. Though you would be glad to do anything involving the warriors, just for the simple fact of being able to see them up and close, you still had to question why she would choose you. There was no reason for them to trust you, even if you had returned the armor.

The Armorer took it a different way, thinking you were expecting a form of payment for your work, which only made sense.

“Of course, your efforts will be compensated. Should you ever need passage or protection, we would be more than willing to offer aid.” She reached into her pocket, retrieving a small device that she held out. Upon taking it, you discovered there were only two buttons on the disk. It might look like random scrap metal to someone else, but your trained mind recognized it as an old communications device.

“Press the blue when items are done or you request a meeting. The green is for emergencies only. Life or death situations.” You nodded, turning to tuck the device on a higher shelf where it would be within reach but not have the risk of being accidentally pressed, and somewhat hidden should any unwelcome guest find their way back here.

“And,” she hesitated a moment, unsure of her next words. With just one visit, you had managed to lower the carefully raised walls she had constructed, penetrating its defenses in a way not even her own people had. But now, here with you in the peace of the forge, her tongue was loose and brain foggy, as if the heat was melting away every shred of common sense and survival instinct she had carefully honed.

“I will teach you how to make armor. One that will protect you. Under my guide as the Armorer of my tribe it will be nothing less than perfect. Though you must swear to never trade or sell it.”

Your eyes widened a fraction at her words, hardly believing what she had just said. Not only had you just learned a new fact about the stoic woman, that she was a smith just as yourself, but she was offering to teach you how to make some of the best armor in the galaxy. No, the universe.

“It...it would be an honor.” You tilted your head down in respect, only to have her leather clad gloves grab your chin, the worn material forcing your gaze up to meet hers. Though there was no way for you to truly see her eyes, you could almost feel the flames burning within them.

“Ni kar'taylir gar will not disappoint ni, ni goron.”

__________________________________________________

If you had thought that your father had been harsh when he was first teaching you how to smith, then he had graced you with a mother’s love in comparison to the Armorer, a name she had given you to call her after multiple visits.

“It just feels kind of cold to keep calling you Mandalorian, especially with all the time we spend together.” You had told her when she questioned why you asked. There were other reasons too, namely being that she had her own name for you. Instead of calling you by the name you had given her, she had taken to calling you ‘goron’ or ‘tracinya’, in that unknown language of hers. You could only hope they weren’t insults.

She visited once a month, always arriving just before dusk and leaving at dawn, two to three weapons heavier and the occasional small trinket you had made between meetings. All night you would be bent over your forge under her watchful gaze, correcting your technique and giving the occasional tip when you were struggling more than normal.

At the end of the night you would offer your work to be inspected, glowing at any praise only to deflate with every critique, and she was nothing if not someone who was unafraid to express her opinion.

The entire time you talked with one another. Well, you did most of the talking, but it still felt nice to have someone other than the stray loth cat listen to your ramblings.

Every once in a while she would answer one question or another, though she never divulged too much information on her own tribe, apart from mentioning another Mandalorian in passing or treating you with one of her occasional stories from the covert. You respected her wishes nonetheless, and as much as you wanted to ask her about everything you resigned yourself to the fact that she would only tell you what she wanted you to know. Mandalorians were still very much sought after prizes, and the secrecy would only make sense, as it ensured their survival.

She also never picked up a tool, as much as you wanted to see her work. Her instructions were always verbal, with the occasional instance where she would place her hands over yours, moving them the correct way and never failing to send your cheeks ablaze. Thankfully you could blame the color on the heat of the flames and not your own growing feelings. Those were a different issue entirely.

You don’t know when it started, almost like it had always been there, building until they attacked with a snap. The fact of the matter was that you harbored feelings for the armored woman, and you couldn’t deny them, no matter how much you tried to push them down. Alone for the most part, she was the only person to regularly visit your empty residence. Ever since your father had died and left you the successor of his forge, both the shop itself and the small living quarters behind it had felt empty, haunted by his memories that couldn’t be chased away with any amount of plants you bought or how much time you spent working.

The first time she had accepted your invitation for a drink after much begging was the first time the space felt complete in ages, though she simply sat on one of the only two chairs in the living room, drink remaining untouched in her hand.

You were content hiding your feelings. As long as it meant that she would come around, you would do anything. Though you feared your meetings may soon come to an end. While you were overjoyed with the progress you had made over the months, constructing enough armor for a single arm and leg, as well as a chest plate. Not much longer and you would have your armor complete, and her reason for coming around would be gone. No longer would she need to teach you, and there was no reason she couldn’t send someone else from the covert to collect weapons and drop off items for repair once a month. You remember her mentioning how their top heavy infantry warrior had asked to meet you, and as interested as you were in meeting other Mandalorians you didn’t want it to be at the expense of seeing her.

“What’s got you so distracted tonight, tracinya’ika?” she asked after you dropped your current project, a shoulder pauldron, for the third time that night.

“Nothing!” You managed to squeak out, only to feel her familiar presence behind you, growing closer until you felt her brush against your back, making you spin around only to be pinned against your forge. The heat burned your back, hardly noticed by your brain as you processed how close she was standing now, arms on either side of your body and helmet tilted to look you in the eye.

“Tell me.” Her voice crooned, smooth even through the modulators and nearly causing your knees to give out.

Swallowing thickly, you struggled to get the words out.

“When...when you're done teaching me, will I ever see you again?” It sounded stupid to say it out loud. Needy, like a child wanting their mother. It made you feel foolish, believing she surely thought you weak and helpless now.

You were prepared for her to laugh or scoff, to chastise you for how foolish you were being about such emotional connections.

She did none of those.

“Ni tracinya, as long as you still desire my presence, I will come. Until you give the word, and even after, our destiny will be intertwined.”

You didn’t, couldn’t, say anything after that. It was as if she had stolen every thought from your head, every word from your mouth, leaving you nothing but a gaping fool, staring at the powerful warrior before you as the sound of the spotted owls filtered in through the open wall from the cool night air beyond.

It was the Armorer who finally broke the trance, stepping back and pausing for a moment before collecting the prepackaged weapons from the table. She said nothing as she left, heading back hours before the sun had even begun to rise and leaving you with nothing to do but stare after her, wondering what you had done wrong.

Unbeknownst to you, the cause of the Armorers swift exit had not been your fault, but her own. The entire way back to the covert she berated herself for how foolishly she had acted, allowing her body to move before her mind yet again, putting you in a compromising position. Even while berating herself, the memory of being so close to you stuck in her mind. The way your hair stuck to your damp skin, practically glowing in the light of the flames as you stared up with large, innocent eyes.

She had wanted to take you into her arms then and there. Her kind hearted little smith. So gentle and warm despite the rough profession and living conditions in which you found yourself in. It made her feel all the more guilty about having allowed herself to grow so attached to you, bringing along all the dangers that came with being associated with a Mandalorian as well as the knowledge she provided.

With each visit the feeling only grew, and by this point her draw to protect you as she would one of her tribe was just as strong. You were a weakness. A chink in her armor that she would allow none to exploit.

Unfortunately, she was just one Mandalorian, and there was a limit to her strength, as she would soon find out.

_______________________________

It had been a week since your last meeting with the Armorer. The way she had practically sprinted out played on repeat in your head, reviewing every second leading up until then in search of what you could have possibly done. Yet no matter what angle you looked at it from, you always drew a blank.

Well, what else were you expecting from a Mandalorian. As skilled as they were apt to run off without an explanation. On to whatever adventure was next. You could only hope that she would have some explanation the next time.

‘Or at least the decency to apologize for being rude.’ you huffed, slamming the door to the cupboard after retrieving a cup. You settled down with a mug of warm bantha milk and honey, still fuming. Hopeful a bit of reading would calm your nerves for now, ignited every time you thought back on the encounter. Hopefully you would be calm enough not to give her an earful when you saw her.

The fire crackled in the hearth, the only source of sound as you skimmed through the pages of the novel you had picked up. A cheesy romance that you wouldn’t be caught dead reading in public, highlighting a lowly dancer attracting the attention of a bounty hunter who bought them for their own operations, only for the two to inevitably fall in love.

The rough and brash nature of the bounty hunter in the story reminded you of your own Armored crush, and you found yourself daydreaming more than reading as you finished off your drink.

If only real life could be like that. You were all too aware of how unlikely it was though. Such a warrior could never have feelings for a simple smith like yourself, no matter how much she admired your works.

Still, there was no harm in dreaming, right?

That’s exactly what you allowed yourself to do, curled up on the seat with the book drooping just as low as your eyes. The warmth of the fire and a stomach full of warm bantha milk only helped the progression of sleep along, lulling you into a sense of security as the light humming outside grew.

That’s how the first shock wave found you, knocking you from content to the floor as it rattled the entire shop.

You scrambled to your knees, dazed and confused, unable to make sense of what had just happened before the next hit. This was much closer, rattling the windows and knocking items from the walls. Even from here you could hear the sound of metal clanging as weapons and trinkets were thrown from their shelves.

Above the ringing, just barely, you processed the sound of fighters as they blazed overhead.

The Empire, you realized with a chill. You had heard rumors of them doing this, decimating entire towns and villages in the dead of night while everyone slept. That was only for those who were suspected of housing rebels or acting as supply lines though! The most you ever got out here was the occasional ship stopping to refuel or gather supplies, which was done so quickly and infrequently you wouldn’t even know they had been here.

Now wasn’t the time to question why you had been targeted. Now was the time to act.

Stumbling to your feet, you ran to the only option of help you had. The shock wave of each sending another small tremor through the ground and causing you to stumble as dust rained down from the ceiling. Dimly, you could hear the shouts of the village as those still alive realized what was happening.

The transmission disk sat in the same place it always was, thankfully not knocked to the floor and hidden in one of the many small crevices of your now disastrous shop. Tools and metals of all types lay scattered about, creating a minefield across the floor for you to navigate and attempt to not trip.

She was the only one that could help you. There were no friends, no family. No one who visited outside of her. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting her to do. Take you to another planet that the Empire hadn’t marked for destruction? But what would you do once you got there. Your skills were that of a blacksmith. Even if she helped you to escape for now and come back, who would be left for you to sell to? As much as the thought of abandoning the forge you had grown up in hurt, there would be no profit in staying. If there was any place to stay at that is.

Still, you ripped the item from its shelf, frantically pressing the ill-fated green button and watching as a loading signal popped up. It jumped in small increments at an agonizingly slow pace, leaving you to watch helplessly as the distress signal transmitted.

Amidst the chaos and adrenaline, a flash caught your eye.

The armor you had been working on for the past few months sat openly displayed on the worktable, left over from when you had been tinkering with it earlier. It wasn’t yet finished, but there was no time better than now to test it out. They might have tie fighters in the sky, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any troops on the ground to ensure there were no survivors, and there was no way in hell you were going out without a fight.

So, while the message continued loading, you stumbled over and yanked on the equipment, cursing each time your hands fumbled with a strap or you dropped a piece. By the time you managed to get all of what you had finished on, as well as the half-worked pauldron and grabbing the closest weapon, the bar had only reached seventy two percent.

You watched with bated breath as it continued to climb, praying to the maker for it to finish already. You didn’t know how far away the Armorer was, but hopefully she would get here in time. To give your body a proper burial and out of the reach of scavengers if nothing else.

You never got to see it finish.

The agonizingly loud and now familiar scream of fighters your only warning before they unload their ammunition onto your home. It fell apart like paper, no match against the green energy beams as they took out whole sections of the ceiling and walls.

A flash of light, stars from the night sky now peering down from the open ceiling, before you were buried under the rubble. It pressed down with seemingly the weight of a moon, forcing every ounce of air from your lungs and preventing nearly any oxygen from entering as you desperately tried to pull in more air, only to choke on the thick dust that permeated and covered everything. Every movement brought a fresh wave of agony tearing through your body, and you could taste iron in the back of your throat. A sign of internal bleeding, if the stabbing pain in your side wasn’t enough. Your unarmored arm also hung limp and uselessly. Broken.

The chunk of rock that currently pinned and left you defenseless was far too heavy to move with both arms, let alone one, leaving you scrambling nowhere to get out. The very building that had protected and provided you shelter, a place to work and thrive, had turned into your own personal death trap.

It was getting harder and harder to breath. Your movements became slower and weaker with every move until, finally, they slowed to a stop, left weakly grasping at the rubble around you. Everything had now gone silent. Not even the sound of fighter jets could be heard.

You were completely, utterly, alone. That’s how you were going to die.

Alone.

No tears escaped as you set your jaw, accepting your grim fate. You had no regrets in life. None that could be rectified by living any longer anyways. You had created a great deal of beautiful and skillful items. Whoever happened to stumble upon your shop's ruins would surely have themselves a treasure trove.

The one thing you found yourself wishing was that there would be someone to mourn you when you were gone. To look upon memories and smile with fondness as you had with your own father’s passing.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Your name would fade into nothing, just as insignificant and unknown as a shout into the empty space of the stars above. Stars that you would never be able to see.

It became darker, black spots dancing across the edges of your vision and growing. With one last shuddering breath, your body gave out, succumbing to its injuries as your consciousness faded.

Mere feet away from your impromptu crypt, the cracked yet unbroken transmitter blinked weakly. Two words flash and flicker across its screen.

‘Message Sent’

___________

Mandoa translations (Roughly. I did my best)

Baskar-armor

goron-blacksmith/metalworker

Ni kar'taylir gar will not disappoint ni, ni goron.- “I know you will not disappoint me, my blacksmith.”

kar’ta beskar.- Iron heart, center of their chest armor

Karyai- gathering place for relaxation/eating, center of the home

Tracinya-flame

Ika-little

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian #mandalor #mandalorian #mandalorian armorer #the armorer #armorer x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandolorian #star wars #star wars x reader #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #x reader #the armorer x reader

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problematic-faves-appreciation · 4 years ago

Text

Problematic Faves Cliffs Notes: Harvey Dent/Two-Face

Batman (1980) #329

Summary: Once a crusading district attorney that worked alongside Batman and Jim Gordon to fight crime – now the duality-obsessed super criminal known as Two-Face.

Harvey Dent also serves as a dark reflection of Batman's own struggles living a dual life with conflicting identities.

Main Goal: To enact his own justice whilst committing crimes.

Fears: Uncertainty, himself in general [the things he's capable of, specifically], losing control, his loved ones dying, his darker half discovering Bruce's secret identity [Detective Comics (2016) #1021], Renee Montoya's rejection [Batman: No Man's Land, novel], and the Joker [Joker (2008), only].

Mindset: Sees himself bound by fate and its will. As a result of Harvey's black-and-white worldviews, he considers his two-headed (scarred on one side) silver dollar a truly objective instrument of justice due to it only yielding two simple, 50/50 outcomes at the end of every coin toss.

"Some people go to the beach to forget their problems. They can watch the waves for hours. I understand the fascination.

There's a pattern – then there is no pattern.

It's the same with the coin. We want it all to mean something – we want to find the pattern – but in the final analysis, it's just waves."

— Harvey Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

"He was always interested in the law – some might say obsessed. Man's law gave order to Harvey's world – they delineated the parameters of right and wrong, good and evil. They gave him something to believe in."

— Gilda Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

Hugo Strange: Let's go back further, you were a rising star, a beacon of light for this city. A white knight riding in to save it with the Dark Knight not far behind.

Harvey Dent: You can leave him out of this. He is wrong. They all are. No one understands the beauty of fate's hand. I am grateful to Falcone. He gave me a clarity; a purity that few will know. Everything boils down to a simple choice, this way or that way, good... or bad.

Hugo Strange: Do you really believe that?

Harvey Dent: How could I not?

— Batman: Arkham City

•••

Batman: If you pull the trigger, how are you different from the Roman?

Harvey Dent: That's Jim Gordon talking. You know the system doesn't work. That justice can be decided like the flip of a coin.

— The Long Halloween

•••

"You thought we could be decent men in an indecent time... but you were wrong! The world is cruel. And the only morality in a cruel world is chance. Unbiased, unprejudiced, fair."

— Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight

•••

"Life's a lottery, Holman. It's chance that decides who lives and who dies. Who gets cancer. Which kid is born with spina bifida. Who gets run over by a truck.

This [the coin] is what decides whether or not I blow your wife's brains out."

— Harvey Dent, Joker's Asylum: Two-Face #1

Teen Titans Spotlight (1987) #13

Character Traits:

🌗 Loving • Idealistic • Genuine • Principled • Resolute • Focused • Driven • Workaholic • Passionate • Eloquent • Wrathful • Obssessed • Brooding • Self-loathing • Black-and-white thinking • Dauntless • Fair • Honest (generally) • Man of his word • Learned helplessness (regarding the coin and his choices) • Self-destructive • Unpredictable • Hair-trigger temper • Can be persuaded • Charitable (depends on coin toss) • Takes his pain out on others • Self-enabling • Serious • Harsh • Intimidating • Vengeful • Physically violent • Self-aware • Conflicted • Feels remorse • Tries, but fails to improve as a person • Too Dependent on his coin • Fatalistic • Suicidal • Forgiving • Self-centered, but not selfish 🌗

Key Facts:

Harvey Dent...

• Had mental health issues long before his disfigurement [Batman Annual (1990 #14, Batman: The Animated Series - Episode 10, and Batman: Arkham City].

• His father physically abused him every day as a child. Christopher Dent used a double-headed coin to make Harvey believe he could "avoid" the beatings if the coin landed on the non-existent "tails" [Batman Annual #14].

• Bruce Wayne was his childhood friend [Rebirth universe & Batman: Nightwalker].

• Harvey "Legal Eagle" Dent was the top of his class [Secret Origins Special (1989) #1].

• Paid for his father's nice apartment [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime & Punishment].

• Half of Harvey wanted to love his father, while the other half wished him dead. Despite everything, he tried to make peace with Christopher prior to the acid attack [Batman Annual #14].

• Never stopped loving/thinking about Gilda Dent when she disappeared from his life following the events of the Long Halloween [Batman (2006) #653 & Batman (2011) #712].

What's more, Harvey continued loving Gilda so much that he wound up murdering her second husband's killer in a pre-Long-Halloween continuity [Batman (1980) #329] because the man's death left Gilda grieving.

• Fun fact: The Power of Love helped him resist Poison Ivy's pheromones in the Dark Victory #11!

Begone, thot!

• Blamed Batman for what happened to him with Salvatore Maroni Carmine Falcone and the acid attack that scarred his face [Batman: Arkham Knight].

• Uses his coin to determine whether he should kill or spare his victims. Also, he has been known to perform acts of charity [Detective Comics (1942) #66 & Batman: The Silver Age Newspaper Comics Volume 3 (1969-1972)] sometimes.

• Loves and hates Gotham [Batman and Robin (2013) #23.1].

• Dislikes hypocrites [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime and Punishment & The Spectre (2001) #5].

• Developed strong feelings for Renee Montoya in the Batman: No Man's Land storyline.

• Continued caring about Renee deeply, despite the events of Gotham Central (2003) #10 [Convergence: The Question #1-2].

Received training from Batman [Batman #653] and Deathstroke [Deathstroke (2018) #38].

• Has tried growing better as a person, but he keeps failing [Batman Annual #14 & Batman and Robin Adventures (1995) #1-2].

• Has re-scarred himself more than once [Batman Annual #14, Batman #653, and Batman: Black and White (1996) #1].

• For all his faults and crimes – such as nearly beating Dick Grayson to death in Robin: Year One – he has helped people [The Batman Chronicles (1999) #16], defended Jim Gordon from himself as Jim's defense lawyer [Detective Comics (1999) #739], cares about the women in his life, and keeps his word when the coin comes up good.

He is a complex character, period.

Other Facts:

• Has seen Cocteau's "Beauty and the Beast" [Batman (1986) #397].

• Knows how to sculpt [Detective Comics (1986) #563].

• Owns a "thememobile" like Batman [Batman (1987) #410]!

• Likes baseball [Batman (1987) #411].

• Likes symmetry [Batman (1989) #442].

Smokes, but also doesn't [Batman (1994) #513].

"My own version of the literary reference mark known as a diesis – more commonly known as a double-dagger! My next pair shall strike to the heart of the matter!" — Harvey Dent, Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #1 – the words of a man who certainly reads a lot!

Batman Annual #14 & Teen Titans Spotlight #13 – A himbo he is not!

• Reads classic books such as "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" [Detective Comics #66] and "A Tale of Two Cities" [Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #2].

• Still finds putting criminals behind bars fun [Batman Gotham Adventures (1999) #12].

• Can speak Spanish [The Batman Chronicles #16].

• Doesn't mind hitting women at all. There are so many examples of this; Harvey confirmed it himself [Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7], and beat up Jim Gordon's wife in Batman (1999) #572.

• Made a self-insert comic book in an art therapy program. Yup, he wrote and drew it himself [Detective Comics (2001) #753]!

Called it "The Adventures of Copernicus Dent and His Best Girl and Plucky Assistant R'Nee!"

• Plays chess with Batman [Gotham Knights (2002) #32].

• Has watched Star Trek [Nightwing (2008) #150].

• Fought and killed a werewolf [The 2008 DC Universe Halloween Special]. Yes, really.

• Was a cult leader [Detective Comics (2020) #1020].

• Rebirth!Harvey is now working as a jailhouse lawyer in Blackgate [Detective Comics (2020) #1024].

• Understands how binary code works, but computer geeks make him sick? [Robin (1994) #11] Yeah.

• Has kids. Twins! [Batman: Two-Faces Strikes Twice]. It looks like they're irrelevant.

• Remembered Renee's birthday and sent her tulips [Detective Comics (2000) #747].

• Has been a judge before [The New Batman Adventures - Episode 24 & Arkham Unhinged (2013) #11].

• Hates odd-numbers [Robin: Year One #2].

#batman #harvey dent #two face #gilda dent #dc comics #my posts #problematic faves cliff notes

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avatarvyakara · 3 years ago

Text

Started on the first bit of Captains of the Guard. @majorabbey, yours is up first (and please correct my dialogue however is necessary to get this right):

Oh, Cassandra still takes Varian, and still learns the spell. But this time around, her father isn’t halfway to another city. He’s at home in Corona. And when he learns his daughter is back and has taken a hostage alongside the Demanitus Scroll, he swallows his fear and goes forth to meet her alongside Rapunzel.

They get up. There’s even a chance Cassandra might listen.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you long ago. It should have been your decision, and I should have respected that. Just...just know that I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. No matter what.”

For a moment, it looks like she’s calming down. Realizing what she’s been doing.

Then she hears something. She frowns, nearly snarls, and Black Rocks form a cage around him.

“Talk about too little, too late, Dad.”

And she turns her attention back to Eugene and Rapunzel.

And then comes the clash.

Varian flies out one side of the New Tower, Cassandra falls out the other.

And Cap feels a strange burst of energy—

And a very, very sharp spike.

No. Not yet. I’m not done yet. No—

No.

Please, no.

“Where...where is he?”

The ghost girl—now oddly solid—shakes her head, sadly.

“He attacked you, Cassandra. Just like you thought he would. You did what was right.”

No.

“But he...he wouldn’t—”

“I’m so sorry, Cassandra. I know you didn’t mean to kill him. And I do wish they’d left the body behind, so you could have one last goodbye. I’d have wanted that.”

Cassandra bites back a sob, and glares instead.

“Get out.”

The ghost girl sighs, and rises. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Get OUT.”

It’s only when Cassandra is on her own—truly on her own, in her mind with the Rocks and the Moon and nobody and nothing else—that she lets the tears fall.

No.

This is not happening.

If the Sundrop can steal the power of the Moonstone, then I can take back the powers of the Sundrop.

I can bring him back.

She thinks, and thinks, and remembers. And Whispers the Name of the Moonstone. And says the words like a prayer.

"Flower, gleam and glow…"

They bring his body back to the castle.

He’s buried in uniform, as he’d want it. A fair number of people turn out for the funeral—mostly guards, but some others too.

Rapunzel’s in shock. Cassandra’s never killed anyone before. Least of all someone she...someone they know.

Maybe she is too far gone to bring back again.

(Thank the Stars she saved Varian and Eugene in time.)

Of all people, Old Lady Crowley is completely distraught. She won’t come to the funeral. She doesn’t even leave her room. It’s like all the fire went out of her, somehow.

And Eugene is left, after the funeral, wondering what to do.

“I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to say this to your face,” he tells the carved image of the Captain’s face. “But you are an idiot.”

The face does not look amused.

(At least they got the gravesite right. Up near the wall, where it would be protected from the wind—and could do a little protecting too. Next to the gravestone of a man named Michael von Dorn.)

“You set out that you wanted me to be Captain? Me? Why would you do that? I mean, granted, you weren’t exactly all there those past few months, but...really? What about Stan? Or Noel? Noel would be good. Or even Pete! No offence to Pete. But...Cap, I’m a lifetime criminal. My identity issues have identity issues. And...”

He sighs, and lowers his head.

“I’m scared, Cap. We had our differences, but you did your best and it worked more often than not. If you couldn’t stop Cassandra and keep Corona safe, how can I? I’m just Rapunzel’s live-in boyfriend. That’s all I am. Corona needs someone who can actually protect it. Maybe I can do something about the Flynn Riders out there, but not the Cassandras.”

“Seriously,” says a chokingly familiar voice behind him with a huff of annoyance, “why can’t you ever say her name right?”

Turn around, and—

Eugene is not afraid to admit that he shrieks, right about then.

“Nope, don’t panic, guys,” says Eugene, calmly. “I’m actually fine.”

“We heard screeching,” Stan insists.

“And after, you know...” Pete hangs his head in sorrow.

Eugene sighs. “Just...thought I saw something. You know, a living nightmare.”

“Stuff like this takes some time to get over,” says Stan, gently. “It’s okay, Eugene. Come on, Pete, we’d better head back.”

Stan would be a good Captain, if he were allowed to be.

Eugene watches them leave, and then turns back to see the...

Well.

“‘Living nightmare’?” asks the Captain in disbelief, from where he’s been unceremoniously shoved behind another gravestone.

“Hey, give me a break, I’m still not entirely convinced you’re not some insane fever dream from nearly being squeezed to death! Oh, holy hallucinations, what am I saying? How are you even alive right now?”

“Uh…I don't think I ever stopped being alive,” says the Captain. “What I'm more concerned about, Fitzherbert, is what happened here? And whose grave is this?”

“You seriously don’t remember?” And then— “And since when do you call me Fitzherbert?”

“...because that’s your name?”

“Yeah, and that’s yours, but I never called you—wow, actually, seriously, ‘Casper von Dorn’? All these years and you never told me your name was worse than mine...”

But now the Captain blinks. “That’s not my name.”

“Uh, hate to break it to you, Cap, but the secret is very much out. They read it out at the funeral and everything. And you kind of ruined any reaction I was going to have by being dead. ...oh, boy.”

The Captain of the Royal Corona Guard has gone pale. He leans against the wall of the graveyard.

“That probably wasn’t very polite, I’m sorry.”

“Fitzherbert,” says the Captain, as calmly as he can. “My name is Roderick Rusthaven, Captain of the Guard of Corona. What the holy hell is going on here?”

#tangled the series #rapunzel’s tangled adventure #fanfic #captains of the guard #captain of the guard #tangled captain #tangled cassandra #eugene fitzherbert #into the spider verse #improper use of spells

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

Kiro’s Official Art Book (Eng Translation)

Credits to @minjee98 for sending me photos of Kiro’s official art book and requesting this translation!

This post contains details on Kiro’s outfits, items, backgrounds, letter, and interviews with his CN voice actor, the Copywriting Team, Art Team, and Production team

More: Gavin l Lucien l Black Swan l STF l Loveland City

💛 KIRO’S OUTFITS 💛

[ White Casual Outfit ]

Even though it’s been a long time, you can definitely remember that day - Kiro wearing a white coloured casual outfit, earpieces hanging around his neck, smiling as he broke into your world.

When you reached out to grab that bag of chips, you never would have thought that from then onwards, you would own a unique nickname and a person who would journey alongside you.

[ Informal T-shirt ]

If you hadn’t acted without thinking and broke into the hackers’ convention, it wouldn’t have been possible to guess that Kiro is “KEY”, who is renowned in the hacker community.

When he removed his hood, fingertips flying and tapping on the keyboard, did your heart thump and jump along with it?

[ Striped Casual Outfit ]

Do you still remember how Kiro wore this striped casual outfit when the two of you went to Japan together?

I’ll tell you a secret. When he was redeeming the vow at the shrine, he had actually made a new wish - he wished that the deities would give all the beautiful things in the world to you, and wished that he could be with you forever.

[ Pink and yellow striped shirt ]

Do you still remember that day - when Kiro pulled you along excitedly to look for springtime. When you held his hand and looked at his profile, did you feel as though your entire person had become warm?

Actually, whether it’s the fuzzy bear. the blooming sunflowers, or the pleasantly warm spring sunlight, in your heart, all the warm and adorable things have long since been attached to Kiro.

[ Swimming Outfit ]

Even though you knew Kiro worked out, would you have known that he had such a good figure if you hadn’t bumped into him in the shower?

Next time, you have to be more careful. Don’t boldly appear in front of him, or you might get “teased” by him for a very long time.

[ Foreign Prince Outfit ]

Whether it’s during that Qixi activity or in real life, Kiro is the most dashing “foreign prince”, isn’t he?

Just thinking about his breathing when he had leaned in close, his sly smile... Do you feel as though your heart is skipping a beat once again?

You should be grateful to that troublemaking little cat. If it weren’t for it, your face would have definitely turned a familiar apple-red!

[ Wedding Outfit ]

When he had held your hand, walking step-by-step towards the middle of the hall, didn’t you feel as though every second became incredibly long? It was so endless that you could reminisce on your long past, and sketch a faraway future.

Every day in the future, your world will be filled to the brim with Kiro’s presence.

[ Purple Jacket ]

The Kiro in your dream wore a purple jacket, singing his new song to you gently, the breath falling on your ear reminiscent of the most brilliant, warm sun on a winter day.

But... were you slightly hesitant back then? The sun in your dream - was it really the sun? The real Kiro - where exactly is he?

[ White Overcoat ]

Helios is Kiro... When you realised this, did you take a long time for it to sink in?

However, no matter what his current identity is, no matter what his objective is, or what appearance he has, he is definitely still the most important person to you, right?

This time, it’s finally your turn to proudly say that phrase to him - “I’ve found you.”

[ Student Uniform ]

It’s said that countless program teams have asked Kiro for his childhood photographs, but he has never made this photograph public.

In other words, only you can see this Little Kiro who has ice-cream at the corners of his mouth, which means this little cuteness only belongs to you!

💛 KIRO’S ITEMS 💛

Potato chips cake - This unique chip-flavoured cake is the most delicious cake I’ve ever eaten.

Smart bracelet - Did you know that to me, your existence is a miracle?

Torchlight - Miss Chips, isn’t the hacking technology I invented really amazing!

Massage oil - An exclusive physiotherapy. It’s the first time I’m making a house call, and it’s an experience exclusive for you.

Astral stone - Wait for me to return. I’ll definitely return.

Doll shoes - I don’t seem to have the talent to tell ghost stories... Next time, it’d be your turn to tell me one.

Brown sugar - Actually, I’m not sure if this is effective either... I can only accompany you at your side. Will keeping you company make you feel a little better?

Egg noodles - I miss the days of our midnight crimes together, so... don’t try to lose weight, okay?

Star bottle - In 365 days, I want to secretly you the response to each and every star in your ear.

Autographed CD - I remember how you once said that every serious autograph can convey the greatest well-wishes to one’s supporters.

Live video camera

Romantic poetry collection

Superhero card

Teddy bear recorder pen

Snacks hamper

Teddy bear doll

Potato chips

Portraits

💛 BACKGROUNDS 💛

[ Mangrove Forest ]

On the day, you took up the challenge of 10km long-distance running. With his company, you seemed to complete it more relaxedly than you imagined. The two of you witnessed a miracle - that beautiful “forest on the water”. It doesn’t seem to be mere beautiful memory, and you should remember that phrase - “To me, your existence is a miracle.”

[ Kiro’s Living Room - Lights Off ]

The Kiro in your memory is rarely as despondent and helpless as that time. It was perhaps the first time you saw his lonely appearance outside the spotlight. Your heart ached slightly, and you didn’t really know what to do. You couldn’t help but use singing to comfort him. This seemed to be effective, and he fell asleep by your side peacefully.

[ California Seaside ]

The scenery along State Route 1, the unexpected breaking down of the car, unlocking a new method of travelling on foot, and him changing into a cowboy after several incidents... The sunset at the fallen castle and the sight of the whale leaping out of the water - they are definitely the most dazzling existences in your memories.

[ Gallery ]

That day, you had gone on an “adventure” with him while he dressed as a bear mascot. It was the first time you officially worked together with him. That elderly grandmother fan and her house filled with love deeply influenced you. Did you also gradually experience the charm possessed by this man who is just like the stars?

[ Kiro’s Music Rehearsal Room ]

Even though the rehearsal room is decorated simply, it has the necessities. You’ve spent countless days and nights with him here, which contains his sweat and all the sincerity he has expended.

[ Flower Arch of the Church ]

Do you still remember the kiss seared onto your ring finger? Accompanied by the affectionate vow, it had entered straight into your heart. His words still seems to linger at your ear. “I hope... that you can reserve this finger for me, for the wedding ring.”

💛 INTERVIEWS 💛

[ Interview with Bian Jiang, the voice actor for Kiro ]

“Sometimes, he can actually be more wilful, and more self-indulgent.”

Q1: Teacher Bian Jiang, having interacted with Kiro for such a long time, do you have any new insights regarding him?

Bian Jiang: Ahh... (suddenly sighs, finding it difficult to explain succinctly), the feeling he gives me is really difficult to illustrate using words. Normally, given his young age and him being a naturally easygoing, innocent and romantic person, he should live more happily. But at the same time, he has to shoulder so many responsibilities, and has to face a few inescapable problems in his position. So... he’s really very amazing, truly amazing. Always standing in the darkness, but having his heart facing the sunlight.

Q2: Are there any characteristics of Kiro you appreciate a lot?

Bian Jiang: He’s very manly. He never reveals his tiredness or negative sides in front of MC. He carries gargantuan matters by himself. But this really causes one’s heart to ache. Sometimes, he can actually be more wilful, and more self-indulgent. When he has any unhappiness, at least he can always talk to me about it.

Q3: What do you think of Kiro’s Evol?

Bian Jiang: Why do I find both of his Evol not very practical? Firstly, whether or not I have Evol, I’m still loved by all, haha (he laughs after talking about himself). As for Absolute Control, it’s even more unnecessary. You have to win people over with good virtue.

Q4: Is there anything you’ve always wanted to tell Kiro, but haven’t?

Bian Jiang: Nope, and that’s not possible. I would have definitely said whatever I’ve always wanted to say. The two of us don't hide anything from each other. If there’s something we want to say, we’ll say it directly.

Q5: Has Teacher Bian Jiang recently chanced upon a restaurant which you want to bring Kiro to?

Bian Jiang: He knows how to eat more than I do. He should be the one bringing me out to eat.

[ Interview with the Copywriting Team ]

“He’s like the only bottle of water in the world without impurities.”

Q1: The storyline of the game has several science fiction elements. What made you consider including science fiction elements in a game targeted at females?

Actually, we felt that romance is often underestimated. Love isn’t simply effete language without substance, or honeyed words. Love can give us courage, and bring us to a whole new world, opening new journeys, finding your unlimited self. A romance story is naturally appropriate to be melded with any other motifs. In love, we can explore various issues: personal growth, contradictions in society, the truth of civilisation, the rise and fall of history... The story we wish to convey to the players is one of “the cruel competition between love and power”. This isn’t just a complex story with science fiction elements. Actually, it’s also very related to the lives of every person.

Q2: What are Kiro’s fans called?

They’re called “Little Sodas”. His biggest fan club is called “Kiro No Regrets Fan Club”. Their cheer is “Kiro No Regrets, Accompanied by Sodas”.

[Note] I’m not sure if the fan club name is supposed to be a pun for “起落无悔”. It isn’t an idiom, but 起落 (“rise and fall”) and 棋洛 (“Kiro”) have the exact same pinyin and intonation “qi luo”, and it kind of suits Kiro’s wish of there being no regret of sticking by him whether he’s in brightness or darkness

Q3: Which websites have Hacker Key hacked into? List some examples.

You’re limited by your imagination while there’s nothing he can’t hack into.

Q4: Which role is Kiro best at when it comes to MOBA games?

He’s very good in every role, but he likes being the jungler most.

Q5: Which flavour of donuts does Kiro like best?

He likes them all. Recently, he finds the sweet and spicy coconut mushroom flavour pretty good.

Q6: What’s Kiro’s original name?

He doesn’t know what it is because he’s an orphan. But he feels as though “Kiro” is his original name, and he likes it a lot.

Q7: Copywriting sisters, what do you think is Kiro’s core charm?

He’s like the only bottle of water in the world without impurities. This bottle of water has reflected all the impurities in the world, but has continued to remain clear and transparent, simple and kind.

Q8: In the 2018 Qixi Festival event, Kiro’s ancient garb left a deep impression on people. Why did you design Kiro this way?

Just like how he is in real life, he is prince who hails from a foreign land.

Q9: Is Kiro a dog or a cat person?

Dog.

Q10: What do you think is Kiro’s most classic line? How did you think of it?

"I’ve found you, and you’re not allowed to leave me again.”

It’s slightly overbearing, slightly coquettish, taking the initiative and resolute. This is Kiro.

Q11: In relation to Kiro, are there any scenes that you’ve always wanted to write but haven’t fulfilled yet?

He’s just too versatile! Which is why we want to let him try everything we haven’t written yet.

[ Interview with the Art Team ]

“He’s a large consumer of snacks who everyone is envious of!”

Q1: In relation to the various scenes in Loveland City, are there are any real life references?

The answer to this question has already been discovered by some meticulous players. We have indeed made references to a few real sceneries, such as the The Bund.

We want to give players the sense that the romance is happening right next to them, which is why we’ve brought our city’s scenery into the game, so everyone can feel a sense of familiarity and realism.

Q2: Art Sisters, what you think of the “Papergames Art Style” as coined by players? What is the biggest difference between the art style in Mr Love Queen’s Choice and other games by Papergames?

Actually, we don’t really understand the meaning of “Papergames Art Style”, and we don’t know what it means specifically. It probably refers to how the tone and atmosphere are more clear and romantic? Even our own department finds that the art styles from different games are very different. In making a comparison, Mr Love Queen’s Choice is much “harder” (laughs). After all, our main characters are four adult men. Right now, the style is basically “hard but not coarse” - there are parts which require meticulousness and delicateness, yet can’t be too soft.

Q3: Just how many types of snacks are hidden in Kiro’s house?

He has pretty much hidden a little of every snack available and unavailable in the market. He’s a large consumer of snacks who everyone is envious of.

Q4: Kiro has a t-shirt with the word “paper” on it, and it looks pretty good. Where did he buy it?

He bought it from a premium ready-made shop near the Subway station. It’s really expensive.

Q5: Have you ever considered changing Kiro’s hairstyle? For example, giving him a perm?

Actually, his current hairstyle is already slightly curly. Doesn’t it suit him? Or does everyone want to see big waves?

Q6: Kiro seems to always wear a black ring. Has he ever taken it off?

He wouldn’t remove it unless he meets special circumstances. It’s a ring which holds special meaning to him.

Q7: What differences are there between the initial and final design of Kiro?

They are all very fashionable and youthful styles. In the end, however, we chose the style which is most difficult to draw (cries).

Q8: Flowers appear frequently in the game. Could I ask the Art Team which flower best suits Kiro?

Small daisies. It’s incredibly suitable, isn't it!

Q9: When it comes to Kiro’s home decor, what do the Art Sisters find the most special?

What’s special lies in the combination of “cool yet interesting”.

It has a professional, first-rate work area for hackers. Yet, it is filled with all sorts of small hobbies Kiro has: superhero merchandise, his favourite youth comics, and the uncountable snacks he keeps hidden! During his idle time, he will play games with you, hug his guitar and play an impromptu song. Trophies he has won and gifts from fans are also cherished and kept in his cupboards.

Q10: What’s most difficult to draw about Kiro?

How exactly does Loveland City’s brightest boy look like when he’s melancholic? How exactly does one draw that feeling in between early youth and youth... sigh.

[ Interview with the Production Team ]

“He gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”

Q1: Why did you produce a game like “Love and Producer”?

Producers: Since 2015, our company has already started producing this game. As a mobile game with romance at its core, it’s something not many companies have tried before. The company had a lot of discussions on the possibility of it. In the end, we decided to do it, and the reason for making constant iterations, updates, and persevering after three years is especially simple. No matter what age you are, no matter whether you’ve dated before, no matter whether you're married and have your own family, we believe that in every woman’s heart, there remains an anticipation for romance and heart-stirring experiences. Which is why we believe “Love and Producer” has a reason for its existence. This belief has always guided our production and operation process, and we hope we can continuously bring even more beautiful romance experiences to everyone in the future.

Q2: Where did the name of the game “Love and Producer” come from?

Producers: I don’t know if anyone remembers that in the very beginning, our tagline on the official website has always been “Love and dreams need to meet their match.” Why is this game called “Love and Producer”? That’s because the link between you and him not only encompasses the narrow scope of love, but also permeates into to your life journey together.

Q3: Are there any deeply hidden “Easter eggs”? Could you disclose them to us?

Producers: They aren’t really that hidden, but there are indeed some “Easter eggs” which should have already been discovered by some players. For instance, you can see a certain poster during City Strolls. In “Go See Him”, the coupling of certain outfits and sceneries could bring out a few hidden lines. We welcome everyone to give it a try.

Q4: What do the people in the Production team call Kiro?

Producers: Kiro, Little Kiro, Ro Ro, Idol, Helios.

Q5: How do the males in the production team view Kiro?

Producers: The type of golden-haired big celebrity many girls like. He's even mixed blood. It’s a good thing he plays games well, or we wouldn’t even give him ‘likes’ on Moments.

Q6: If you had Kiro’s Evol, what would you use it for?

Producers: To own the entire world’s love in an instant... it might be a little terrifying.

Q7: If there comes a day when you can be a big celebrity like Kiro, what would you want to do most?

Producers: Stand in the middle of the spotlight, and greet my thousands and ten thousands of fans!

Q8: If you became Kiro’s stylist, is there anything you’d want to say to him?

Producers: Your skin is really good, your eyes are really huge, and you are even more dashing than on television...

Q9: Lastly, do you have anything to say to the players?

Producers: This interaction between the Production Team and the players is already sufficient enough to cherish. The world we created has only become perfect because of your participation. Our days alongside Loveland City have already become an important stamp in our lives. This world is still constantly becoming richer and broader. Kindly look forward to it!

💛 KIRO’S LETTER 💛

Hello! Miss Chips!

Is the weather good today? Are there clear skies or it is raining?

When I was busy with work earlier, I thought I was full of things to write. But when I lifted the pen, I didn’t know where to begin.

So I’ll start with the overused topic of the weather - there’s been torrential rain the past few nights. I leaned against the side of the window, looking at two people who forgot their umbrellas and were running while making fun of each other. For some reason, I thought of you soon after.

Do you still remember when we were at the beach last summer, and how there was similar heavy rain? That was the first time I detested the rain. I was worried you would go out into the rain while waiting for me, and I was even more worried that I wouldn’t be able to find you.

Before I met you, it had been a very long time since I felt such a sense of urgency.

Of course, the thing I didn’t expect most was how the girl who had reached for the same bag of chips as I did in the supermarket, would slowly become the most important person in my life.

In movies, don’t they call this “fate”?

But sometimes, I’ll start thinking - it’d be great if our movie could progress even faster, skipping those unhappy scenes, and rushing straight to the ending where I can roar with laugher and be boisterous with you.

But when I turn around and see the periods of time that you’ve accompanied me through, I realise that it’s exactly because of those imperfect days that I could become the Kiro of today.

The songs I sung for you, the birthday surprises you prepared for me, the 100 things we agreed to do together... These uncountable moments cause every minute and every second to sparkle. Spring, summer, autumn and winter have been accorded different meanings.

Of course, there’s one point I firmly believe in without doubt - from today onwards, there will be an uncountable number of such moments. You singing for me, me secretly preparing you birthday surprises, and expanding “the 100 things we must do together” to 1000 things...

And that no matter what day it is, I can always lift my pen and write you a letter whenever I miss you.

Savin is starting to rush me. I’ll leave the important words to the next time we meet, and I’ll tell them to you personally!

#mlqc #mlqc kiro #bless Kiro's handwriting for being legible T-T

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rosethornewrites · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: Breaking Point

Relationships: Caline Bustier & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Characters: Caline Bustier, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Alya Césaire, Max Kanté, Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Juleka Couffaine, Lila Rossi, Tikki

Tags: caline bustier salt, Reveal, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste Knows, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Caline Bustier Knows, ml salt, Harassment, Lila Rossi Lies, Bad Classroom Environments, Gaslighting, enablers, Bullying ,Salt, Identity Reveal, Spitefic, Swearing, Adrien Sugar

Summary: '“For instance, being a superhero is not a viable career path,” was what made her tune in, her attention fully pulled to Mme. Bustier, who seemed to be looking right at her.'

Note: This was written based on a prompt by @norakwami.

AO3 link

------

Marinette wasn’t really paying attention to Mme. Bustier’s lecture. To be fair, it was about career options and how to achieve them, something she had researched so completely she already had a list of universities she intended to apply to, along with possible companies to intern, all carefully tabbed in a binder at home that was also slowly filling with application and portfolio ideas.

Given that she was only fourteen and still had four more years before she reached the point of applying, she was ahead of the game. Perhaps she could be considering going to another lycée instead of the feeder for Collège Françoise Dupont, perhaps somewhere private that had a focus on fashion. But she didn’t want to put pressure on her parents, who would have to pay the tuition for such an institution, when she was already winning awards and making a name for herself through designing for Jagged Stone and the up-and-coming Kitty Section, among others.

“For instance, being a superhero is not a viable career path,” was what made her tune in, her attention fully pulled to Mme. Bustier, who seemed to be looking right at her.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Marinette felt frozen by that stare, pinned like a ladybug by an entomologist. How could she know? Did other people notice her stare?

“Ladybug is almost certainly harming her civilian future through these superhero antics, which prevent her from fulfilling all her obligations.”

Alya snorted. “That’s not Ladybug’s fault—it’s Hawkmoth’s. Ladybug protects the city. And maybe Paris should pay her for her services!”

“Ladybug is a teenager who should be concentrating on school,” Mme. Bustier declared, still staring holes into Marinette.

“Ladybug has never released her age,” Adrien murmured, his voice sounding strained. “So that’s conjecture, Mme. Bustier. How does this have to do with our future careers?”

To her horror, he turned and followed her gaze to Marinette.

She felt as though she might hyperventilate, panic rising in her gut. If she was compromised, that put her family and friends at risk, put the Miracle Box at risk, played right into Hawkmoth’s hands. She’d never been good at a poker face, and she wasn’t sure whether she was managing now.

Adrien’s eyes widened, and she knew she’d failed, at least with him. Kwami, she hoped she could trust him.

“I’m glad you asked, Adrien. For instance, Marinette, would you please share your current preparation for your future career.”

All eyes were on her, and she could feel the thoughts swirling around them as she was called out. She swallowed, trying to push it all down.

“I-I… I have a binder. At home. F-fifteen different universities with fashion p-programs. In order of where I want to go most. Also c-companies that offer internships.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves—it helped a bit. “I’ve started my portfolio, including the b-bowler hat that won M. Agreste’s contest, and my work for Jagged Stone and Kitty Section, and p-pictures of clothing I’ve designed and made.”

She could hear murmurs around her, and Alya gave a low whistle beside her.

“Girl, no wonder you don’t sleep. You’re on top of this!”

Mme. Bustier’s mouth became a thin line, her lips pressed together as though she was irritated.

Marinette wished keenly that Master Fu was still around, could handle this situation. She’d come to realize Mme. Bustier was a terrible teacher, enabling bullying and shaming victims as though they were at fault for their treatment. But this was a whole new level of awful.

“Still, the way you run off during Akuma attacks interrupts your daily life and prevents you from—”

“We all run away during Akuma attacks! They disrupt all our daily lives.”

Adrien stood, his back rigid from tension.

“Marinette has been personally targeted multiple times during Akuma attacks. So have I! A lot of this has been documented on the LadyBlog. It’s traumatizing—and we keep our memories of that because we’re not the Akuma. I run and hide, personally. Why would you shame Marinette for that?”

The class fell silent, and glancing around Marinette could see the tension in their faces, their own memories of being chased by Akuma.

Adrien had moved this away from the idea of Marinette being Ladybug to her being shamed for her reaction to Akumas. He was protecting her. And she loved him all the more for it.

“There was Evillustrator,” Marinette murmured, jumping on the red herring.

She glanced at Nathanaël apologetically. He offered a sad smile.

“I had to help Chat Noir with that. It was scary. André Glacier became Glaciator and came looking for me, and Chat Noir saved me from getting frozen. And Gamer was looking for me. Chat Noir saved me again.”

She could see Max wince across the aisle.

“Reflekta turned me into her clone because she was mad at me. And it was my fault.”

Marinette turned and mouthed ‘sorry’ to Juleka.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Juleka whispered, then cringed as she realized her voice had carried far enough for everyone to hear.

She smiled, then turned back to the front.

“My own grandmother tried to turn me into coal when she was Akumatized because she was upset I wasn’t like eight years old anymore—Chat Noir saved me again there, too. And then my dad was Akumatized and Chat Noir and Ladybug had to save me again.”

Marinette hadn’t been able to transform, needing to be saved as a civilian before she could get back as Ladybug. Too many of them had been so public she’d had to trust Chat Noir would be able to hold his own until she got there—and she did, but she was afraid sometime that would be fatal.

“And I saw footage when Adrien was dropped from a building and then when Volpina pretended to drop him from the Eiffel Tower. That’s terrifying!”

She didn’t turn around to look at Lila. Instead she looked at Adrien, who was still standing, alternating between glaring at Mme. Bustier and glancing back at her with concern in his eyes.

“And then there’s mind control Akumas, like with Miracle Queen. I’m scared of Akumas, Mme. Bustier. Even when they’re across the city, they won’t always stay there, and I want to hide. And I refuse to be ashamed of that!”

It wasn’t a lie, either. Civilian her absolutely wanted to hide—and did, just behind a mask.

She turned her attention to the teacher, keeping her back straight, remembering she had Adrien on her side, even if she wished he didn’t know—damn Bustier for that. Marinette steeled herself.

“I don’t understand why you’ve singled me out to try to imply I alone am somehow failing to perform because of Akumas, but you always seem to do this. I’m at fault for being bullied. I need to be an example and not react when my belongings are destroyed and my locker is broken into. Or when someone gets me expelled by somehow putting test answers in my bag and a new Gabriel-brand necklace—supposedly an heirloom—in my locker that’s been broken into before. I’ve spent the last year feeling I’m not allowed to have emotions. But this is the last straw.”

Marinette stood, picking up her bag. When she glanced down Tikki was giving her the Kwami version of a thumbs up.

“Frankly, Mme. Bustier, you have been toxic for my mental health for quite some time. Time I’ve spent researching to discover what you’re doing isn’t appropriate for the classroom; it’s abusive and reportable. If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to the M. Damocles, as well as my parents. And perhaps the Board of Governors, as I am no longer willing to tolerate this treatment and its continued harm to my education.”

With that, she marched down the stairs, past an open-mouthed Bustier, and out of the classroom, holding her head high.

Once in the open hallway, clear of the windows, she deflated.

“Well, fuck,” she whispered. “I guess I get to do research on a new collège, too.”

She supposed, at least, she’d been successful at diverting Bustier from the Ladybug accusations; the last thing she needed was for Ladybug-hater Lila to know and come after her.

“You and me both.”

Adrien’s voice behind her nearly made her jump out of her skin. She was relieved to see no one else had followed him. She could hear the hullaballoo of the classroom behind her, all control having been lost.

He quirked a grin. “We’re in it together, Bugaboo. As always.”

She stared, feeling like there was a hamster lolling on the wheel of her thoughts instead of running to turn it.

Adrien took her arm. “Come on. I’ll support you. Let’s go talk to M. Damocles.”

“Ch-Chat?” Marinette managed in a hiss as her brain finally caught up.

He gently guided her forward. “My Lady.”

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or some combination of the three. But as they approached M. Damocles’ office, Marinette pushed the issue aside.

After all, she had work to do, and Ladybug didn’t leave work unfinished.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #bustier salt #alya cesaire #max kante #juleka couffaine #nathaniel kurtzberg #caline bustier #lila rossi #lila 'the liar' rossi #ml salt #adrien sugar #identity reveal #my fanfiction #miraculous salt

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ecofinisher · 3 years ago

Text

Stuff I noticed at Snow Queen Fire & Ice and Miraculous Ladybug 😀

I just had to. Even if it is a waste of time. 😅I've done one a long while ago between Miraculous and Monster Buster Club. This one had to be done as well, all just because of those small, little spirits 🥺😥

To be clear, I’m not comparing it to what is better and whatnot. I’m comparing the similarities between the two. The spirits there made me think of the kwamis? Funny I didn't pay attention to it at first xD But then the fun part came......Three times I have watched the movie and I suddenly began to think......Hmm Gerda has the creation powers like Ladybug and Rollan destruction......Holy brick! They could be the lovesquare as well if they had added more romance into it 😂 How did I not see? (It's because you saw Kristanna mixed with Hansanna you nut)

So where do I start? Well just to summarize the shows for those who don’t know one/both of them:

Short info about both, if unfamiliar:

Miraculous Ladybug is a French animated TV show, that debuted in 2015 and is set in the modern metropole Paris and is focused on the lives of the clumsy Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the famous teeny-model Adrien Agreste. Both wield special magical jewelry, which is called a “Miraculous” which they use to transform into the superheroes “Ladybug and Cat Noir” The two don’t know each other’s identity, but funnily Adrien has a huge crush on Ladybug and in the civilian life he sees her as just a friend, while Marinette is obsessed with Adrien and sees Cat Noir only as his trustful crime-fight partner. Both students are around 14 years old in the show.

As superheroes they fight villains, that were akumatized by Hawk Moth. (He owns the butterfly miraculous, with which he can create supervillains by sending an akuma (Butterfly jinxed by Hawk Moth’s magic) and Hawk Moth’s miraculous sends people’s negative feelings such as anger, sadness and disappointment and uses his akumas to follow them and akumatize them and they’re transformed by Hawk Moth into a specific-themed supervillain.

Snow Queen 3: Fire and Ice (Release year: 2016)

Snow Queen 3: Fire and Ice is the third installment of the Russian franchise "The Snow Queen" It consisted currently out of 4 movies, an upcoming 5th installment, and a pre-school TV show. The first movie came out in 2012 and was also the studio's very first movie.

Resume from the first two movies is the young girl Gerda, which lost her parents to the Snow Queen makes her way through the entire snow lands to find her younger brother Kai, which was kidnapped y the north wind. With help of Orm, Snow Queen's servant she makes her way up to the Palast and defeats her, saving her brother and waking up Orm's eyes to a "better world" The sequel is focused on Orm's continuation, which makes a promise to never lie again and this promise made a reflection of himself come to life and appear near him, when he had no idea, what to do with life issues. The more he began to create white lies and bigger lies, the more life his reflection gained until he was able to get out to the real world. The reflection, which calls itself "The Snow King" tricks Orm and leads a fight against Troll warriors by sending his ice-made minions. Gerda was the last warrior to enter and make it to the main hall of the palace to miss Orm, which was fading away due to Snow King's existence and he pretends to be an injured Orm, which is warmly embraced by the girl, but then gets frozen by him, not realizing she had fallen into a trap. When things were over for everyone and the bad guys had won, Orm figured out how he would make everything okay by confessing his mistakes, which erased Snow King from existence and unfroze all warriors and friends again, which were angered at the naive troll.

This is lowkey spoiler-free. I didn't want to go into much detail here, but I would suggest you watch these movies, mostly no. 2 and 3, which are really worth seeing. As well you can see the first and see how much the studio had improved since the first up to the 2 and 3 one.

The Fire and Ice one, I'm supposed to be talking about happens a few years later, Gerda and Kai left the orphanage to go live on their own and make money to be able to at least be able to eat. Their last visit didn't make any profit and they took a ride with an old friend of theirs Alfida (The Robber girl) to pass the night by Orm, their troll friend, which had matured and was responsible to babysit the triplets of his cousin. On said night, a Spanish boy named Rollan shows up by his doorstep and is introduced to the visitors as a friend he met shortly. After the dinner ended in a disaster Kai and Gerda split and Rollan followed Gerda to give her rights, then bonded with her from being looking for his mother as well and introduces her to a map with an artifact called "The Wishing Stone" which grants any wish. Gerda agrees in tagging along and together they make it to survive the dangerous tomb encountering the wishing stone. Fact is the wishing stone was something else and this is where the powers of the Snow Queen and the Fire Demon were kept and due to Gerda and Rollan's touch on the stone, it had awakened the spirits, getting the two infected with the powers of said villains. Soon as they find out with Orm what happened, they need to get back to the tomb to retrieve the powers before the north star rises and makes their transformation complete, which means both would lose their soul/bodies to the villain. .

Random info:

1. The most popular franchise of the studio aka knowns for:

Miraculous is mostly know to be addressed as a ZAG animation product, but other known studios have worked on it as well such as SAMG Animation, TOEI and Method Animation.

Currently, the most popular series produced in France.

The Snow Queen 3 is the overall fifth movie released by Wizart Animation and was on its release the studio's best-grossing movie so far. Currently, the studio's filmography contains about 8 released movies (Counting with Secret Magic Control Agency in 2021), Two televisions shows and at the moment three movies are announced to be released.

Currently, the franchise is the most popular one in Russia, which is also where it was produced.

The similarities I noticed:

The spirits

Coal (Up) and Snowflake (Down) (Left Side)

Plagg (Up) and Tikki (Down)(Right Side)

Tikki and Snowflake have female pronouns. Both are shown to be "feminine", kind, lovable, and correct. They're a spirit of creation.

Plagg and Coal have male pronouns. Both are shown to be "male". cunning and curious. They're a spirit of destruction.

All four are able to use their powers on their own. They don't need to be with their holder to be capable of.

Differences:

- Plagg and Tikki are able to communicate verbally with each other and with humans.

-Coal and Snowflake can't speak, they usually use body language and mimic. Also, they do noises like laughing, groaning, speaking, and such.

- According to Tikki, her species (Kwami) don't fall in love/can't fall in love.

- Snowflake and Coal are shown to be romantically interested in each other. They're shown flirting and having little date-like moments, as they're away from their "owners"

- Coal is able to multiplicate. It's unknown if he's able to do it in command or only if he falls or is hit.

The "Alter egos"

Marinette is the face behind Ladybug and Adrien wears the mask of Cat Noir.

Gerda is possessed with the ice-powers of the Snow Queen and Rollan wields the fire-power of the Fire Demon.

Gerda and Marinette share the creation ability, while Adrien and Rollan are responsible for the destruction. They're each other's opposites.

Differences: Gerda and Rollan are aware of each other's identity and recognize each other's faces, despite small differences. Adrien and Marinette don't know each other's hero identity and weirdly have minor differences in their looks.

Marinette and Adrien's personality as heroes is quite different from their civilian ones, while Gerda and Rollan's don't seem any different.

It's unknown if, during the time Rollan and Gerda are under possession, their personalities are slightly altered by the villains or not. Rollan is shown to get quickly tempered with Gerda's friend, when it comes to their mishap, which usually turns into arguments.

The Yin-Yang effect

Power of creation and destruction

Marinette = Ladybug miraculous, the red earrings / Power of Luck (Creation)

Adrien = Black Cat Miraculous, the black ring / Power of Misfortune (Destruction)

Gerda = Ice (Creation) (The ice-blue shape on the crystal)

Rollan = Fire (Destruction) (The red shape on the crystal)

Character A bickers often with character B.

Ladybug with Cat Noir. Most of the moments Ladybug feels annoyed at Cat Noir's puns and flirt attempts during their missions. She had her rude moments, but deep inside her, she adores him. With Adrien's she's currently befriended, but has a huge crush, nearly an obsession with the blonde, which sometimes makes her double life harder and under pressure, she has taken choices, which led to ungood consequences.

Gerda with Rollan. Rollan's seems more relaxed with pressuring into retrieving the powers back, unlike Gerda. Rollan's easy tempter with Orm, when he's blamed for his issues annoys her as well. Gerda has shown interest in Rollan since the night she has met him and they bonded over the night when heading to the forbidden Tomb. Rollan has shown interest in her as well, but not as much as her.

"Buttmonkey Sidekick"

Cat Noir and Rollan.

Cat Noir - Thrown around by villains at billboards, yeeted by his own dad at the fricking Eiffel tower, sometimes risked his life to protect Ladybug and get wrapped up into odd situations.

Rollan suffered a few nutshots (One by himself as well), survived a very dangerous tomb, had his head frozen by Gerda accidentally, managed to step-dance in the middle of a shoot-out without getting hit by a bullet, accidentally (Or not) uses firepower with help of his butt. (Sounds ridiculous? There' the picture 😂) Press R for respect.

Naturally handsome boys.

Cat Noir and Rollan.

With and without "masks".

Don't think before acting

Cat Noir and Rollan.

Characters look the same

Gerda and Ladybug

Gerda has additional makeup on her face.

Characters look differently with their alter egos

Cat Noir and Rollan

Cat Noir has a wilder hairstyle and has cat-like eyes.

Rollan has a different skin tone, a fire-like shaped hairstyle, which he can put on fire and his eyes are slightly red-brownish.

The brains

Ladybug and Gerda.

The muscle

Cat Noir and Rollan.

Falling into the darkness

Cat Noir and Rollan

Cat Noir lets an akuma take over him and turn him into Chat Blanc, which destroys the entire world in an alternate universe.

Rollan lets the Fire Demon take over his body at the retrieval of the power and nearly commits genocide of entire kingdom.

Tall boy, smoll girl

Cat Noir to Ladybug

Rollan to Gerda

"Lovesquare"

Cat Noir has a crush on Ladybug. Ladybug doesn't. She has a crush on Adrien, which is Cat Noir's alter ego, which she's not aware of. Adrien sees Marinette as a friend only and has no idea, she and Ladybug are the same person although they look the same.

Gerda is attracted to Rollan since the first time she saw him. Rollan begins to feel attracted to Gerda with the time she's around him.

Rollan and Gerda are aware of each other because they were given the powers in the same place.

Marinette and Adrien were confirmed to be canon and should end up in the 5th season, eventually.

Rollan and Gerda should be considered canon at the end of the 4th part, due to the ending credits showing them share a kiss.

Power font:

Ladybug & Cat Noir: "Magic jewelry" (Miraculouses)

Rollan & Gerda: The wishing stone

Difference:

The wishing stone takes away after 24 hours of control over the power wielders and turns them into the slave of Snow Queen and the Fire Demon. The characters' real person is gone for good.

#how to waste your time #random thoughts #miraculousladybug #miraculous #ladybug and chat noir #chat noir #miraculous season 4 #snow queen #snow queen 3 #the snow queen #снᴇжнᴀя коᴘолᴇвᴀ #снᴇжнᴀя коᴘолᴇвᴀ 3 #снᴇжнᴀя коᴘолᴇвᴀ 3 огонь и лед #snow queen 3 fire and ice

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dailydnp · 4 years ago

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YouTube stars and LGBT+ influencers Dan Howell and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard on how they and their queer fans have helped each other through “radical bravery”.

Dan Howell, a comedian and one of world’s most popular YouTubers, and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard, lesbian YouTube star and disability advocate, have had vastly different experiences as queer content creators.

The two LGBT+ YouTubers spoke to PinkNews to mark the launch of The Rise, a YouTube campaign that celebrates diverse UK creative talent on the platform.

Having already made YouTube videos for 10 years, Dan came out publicly in June 2019, in a 45-minute video titled “Basically I’m gay”.

He described his coming out story as “very strange”, and told PinkNews: “Me already being this kind of obnoxiously, omnipresent public figure, I had to kind of go on this process.

“I’ve known how gay I was since forever, but had to go on the whole journey of not just working out how I would communicate that to the world, but truly reaching a point of self-acceptance.

“Because on some level throughout all of my life, I’ve accepted it but not really acknowledged it. I said: ‘I’m not ready yet, now’s not the time, I don’t know how.'”

Jessica, on the other hand, explained that she has “never struggled” with her sexuality, having always known she would be accepted.

“I have a very different coming out story to most LGBT+ people in that I was raised in a Quaker family, and there was never the expectation that I was going to grow up and get a husband and that this was the way things happened… So I’ve never struggled with my sexuality in that way,” she said.

While Jessica uses her online platform to discuss her life as an LGBT+ person as well as queer history, much of her audience comes to her channel for her disabilities advocacy.

She has two rare genetic conditions, HNPP and EDS, which affect her nerves and connective tissues. She is deaf, visually impaired and her conditions can affect her mobility with varying severity.

“Being a disabled and chronically ill teenager, I had this big thing in my life that was really difficult, and a real struggle, and being gay just paled in comparison,” she said.

“There was obviously the drama, the girls that I liked didn’t liked me, they always turned out to be straight. But that was the biggest drama.

“When I started YouTube, I was already married, it was already very much like, this is who I am. I’m gay, this is my wife. There’s no question. There’s no worrying about it.”

She added: “I like to think that that does, in a way, represent what our future is going to be – that we don’t have to have these coming out stories where people worry about how they’re going to be accepted, and worried about the response they’re going to get.”

Dan Howell wishes he’d had queer role models like Jessica Kellgren-Fozard when he was growing up.

Dan Howell said that YouTubers like Jessica Kellgren-Fozard could have helped him immensely when he was discovering his LGBT+ identity.

“If there was someone like Jessica when I was a young person watching YouTube, I just know I would have had a profoundly different journey through life and coming to accept my sexuality,” he said.

“I would have been represented, I would have learned about queer history, I would have been seeing different relationships, seeing different personalities.”

From LGBT+ issues to disabilities and mental health, both Dan and Jessica have used their platforms to share their experiences in areas that are vastly underrepresented in mainstream media, showing their viewers many facets of their identities.

In 2017, Dan used his YouTube channel to discuss his struggle with his mental health, in a video titled “Daniel and Depression”.

“There’s many aspects to a human,” he said. “I’ve always come from a place of just talking about whatever’s on my mind, or whatever is important to me.

“It was quite a jump for me to make that first video about mental health, opening up about depression out of nowhere was quite scary. Because even three or four years ago, it was still more of a taboo topic.

“I tried to do it in my own way, which is to kind of inappropriately joke about it at my own expense, and try to make it a storytelling experience. That’s just the same as everything else I do.”

Jessica said that from her point of view, “the best representation is always ‘happens to be'”.

“It’s the idea that you have a character who’s going on an adventure, you have someone who’s talking to you about makeup, and they just happen to be gay. Because otherwise we’re not really going to be reaching outside of our own echo chamber.”

She explained that some viewers end up watching 10 of her videos without ever realising that she’s married to a woman, which she thinks is “the best way to kind of have any change and effect on the culture and and people in the world”.

“Because if we’re always trying to preach to the choir, we’re not really going to get anywhere,” she said.

“But if people are thinking so-and-so on TV is absolutely amazing and then later find out that they’re gay, maybe they’ll be changing some preconceived notions.”

“It’s this kind of sneaky, insidious way that the gay agenda will thrive and inevitably take over the world,” laughed Dan. “Winning hearts and minds.”

One particularly heartwarming example, Jessica said, was when a fan used her videos to come out to their parents.

“She was raised in a very religious household and her parents were not at all open to the idea of homosexuality. In fact, if they were watching television, and something came up relating to the subject, they would immediately turn it off, change the channel, perhaps say something wasn’t particularly lovely.

“She was sat there feeling like, ‘Oh, am I ever going to come out my parents?'”

The fan decided to curate a playlist of Jessica’s videos to show her mother.

“It started with videos that I made about my religion,” she said, “and then transitioned to fashion and videos about history. And just slowly, each video was a slightly gayer video.”

“Her mother became a fan within the first 20 videos. She was like: ‘This seems like a good role model for my child.’

“Eventually [she realised] this role model has a wife and is gay, and is OK with this. And her parents are religious and OK with her being gay… I was able to provide a tool for someone to do that to come out in quite a safe way to their parents.”

The “radical bravery” of his queer fans helped Dan Howell come out.

Dan Howell, on the other hand, said that his fans were the ones who helped him feel safe to come out.

While still in the closet, he said he found it “difficult” that he viewers saw him as someone who was always “open and honest” with them, especially after sharing his experience with depression.

“I went on a world tour in 2018… I was doing these meet and greets, and people would genuinely pour their hearts out to me, and they would talk about everything they were going through in their life,” he said.

“They would talk about illness, they would talk about mental health. And so many people talked about sexuality, just because the community that had been created had this attitude of acceptance and growth and coming together and wholesomeness.”

While he understands that there was “no presumption [he] was a homophobe”, he found it confusing when people would tell him that he had inspired them to come out.

“It was difficult, because I stood there feeling like I was a sham. People were saying: ‘I feel strong enough to say this to you, because you’ve been so open and vulnerable to me.’ And I was just stood there like: ‘Well, actually, I feel like there’s the biggest part of me that I haven’t even yet gone on the journey to acknowledge myself.’

“I mean, I’ve had people that came out to me in front of their parents, because they felt like they were in a safe environment, and that’s crazy.

“The radical bravery of some of these people is what made me think if I was feeling like a little scared dog in my apartment, looking in the mirror like a chihuahua, thinking: ‘How am I ever going to come out publicly at this stage of my life?’ I would think well, actually, look at the younger generation.”

In the ‘chaos’ of the internet, queer YouTubers like Dan Howell and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard building valuable communities.

While the internet can be a scary place for queer folk, Dan Howell and Jessica Kellgren-Fozard are determined to use it to build community and acceptance.

“I think that we don’t talk enough about the wonderful sides of the internet,” said Jessica.

“How it allows people to come together and create a community, how it gives us access to education that might before been blocked to us, how we’re able to actually learn from people who come before us.

“I really like talk about queer history, because we’re one of the only communities and minorities that can’t pass down out knowledge through the generations. Because you know, gay people don’t necessarily have gay kids.

“We often miss out on learning from our elders and learning what’s come before us. And I think it’s really important and lovely that we talk about and validate and really cherish these communities that are available to us on the internet.”

Dan added: “When you look at the chaos of the internet and various online communities, I think it is good to see when people are creating content that can make people feel better.

“For all of the terrifying chaos of the freedom of the internet and creating on YouTube, it also lets people emerge that may not have been represented, you can create the content that you wish someone was making for you.

“And I think that’s one of the best things.”

#daniel howell #danisnotonfire #dan #phan #mine #interview

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there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Average Love Story (SPN x CM)

Sam Winchester x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~3490

Warnings: Show-level violence, but that’s about it! It’s bizarrely fluffy.

A/N: My first square for @cmbingo: “meet the parents.” This is essentially a rewrite of Supernatural 12x01, “Keep Calm and Carry On,” except Spencer and Sam are adorable dorky murder boyfriends.

Thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 for the read-through!

When Spencer realizes he’s in love with Sam, he’s on a plane, hoping to make it to Kansas before the sun goes dark.

He looks out the window at the too-orange light, thinking, this is a weird twist for a love story. He turns that thought over in his mind and realizes: love.

Oh.

It takes him by surprise, for some reason, but only for a second. He’s starting to get used to surprises.

* * *

Spencer has always been self-aware enough to realize that his intellect and his lack of social skills would not make it easy to strike up a traditional relationship. Then, of course, you factor in his obsessive tendencies, his attachment issues, and the stresses of his job, and it’s not actually surprising that he made it past the age of thirty before he fell in love for the first time. Considering how that ended, it’s definitely a surprise — if not a minor miracle — that he’s made it this far with Sam.

Then again, nothing about their relationship has been predictable. Spencer never guessed he’d meet his future partner while dissecting a dessicated brain.

Ever since Spencer Reid met Sam Winchester, his life has been one surprise after another.

* * *

The third unanswered call makes him nervous, but he figures Sam must be asleep, or at least he should be asleep. If Spencer finds himself doing ninety mph in his tiny rental car, it’s mostly because Kansas highways don’t seem to follow the usual laws of physics. They’re flat and endless and eerie in the grey pre-dawn light.

The moment he opens the door, Spencer knows something is wrong. He spares a wishful thought for his Kevlar, and then he draws his gun, falling automatically into the too-familiar stance as he silently descends the stairs.

There’s blood on the floor.

This doesn’t surprise him in the slightest.

* * *

Spencer tends to spend a lot of time visualizing hypothetical problems and their solutions. He’s good at imagining all the potential outcomes of a particular scenario and calculating their likelihoods based on given variables. He frequently does this at night, instead of sleeping.

In other words, he worries a lot.

If he were in a normal relationship he would probably worry about normal things. For example: whether Spencer was misreading the situation, whether it was okay to run a thorough background check on them, and what to wear on a date. What would their first argument be about? What would their parents think of him? What would his mom think of them?

About thirty-six hours after they met, Sam saved Spencer’s mom from a wraith; first impressions don’t get much better than that.

The normal worries were rapidly eclipsed by Sam-specific worries. For example: what if he got cursed, what if he got possessed, and were there angels or demons after him this week. Why couldn’t Dean either drive a little slower or get a car with less antiquated safety features? How would Spencer help if Sam got hurt on the job? Should he tell the B.A.U. what he’s been learning about the supernatural?

He does end up telling them everything; Sam and Dean show up at a crime scene, Hotch almost arrests them, and it turns out that one of the serial killers they’ve been hunting for a decade is actually a skinwalker.

But the point is that when Spencer sees blood on the floor, he isn’t surprised. He’s visualized this scenario — and several hundred variations on it — before.

* * *

He hears a raised voice in the library and takes the steps two at a time. There are two complete strangers there, a blonde woman aiming a gun at a man, and Spencer’s training kicks in before he can figure out why she looks familiar.

“Federal agent, hands in the air,” he barks.

He can see the split-second when the woman thinks about turning her gun on him, but she seems to think better of it, and she sets the gun down slowly before putting her hands in the air.

“Who are you?” the man demands. “What did you do with Sam?”

“What — Sam?” Spencer asks, panic rising in his throat. “Spencer Reid, FBI. Who —”

“You’re Spencer?” he asks, brow furrowed.

Spencer realizes: “You’re Castiel.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey, gun down,” Dean interrupts. “It’s okay! She’s okay, Spence!”

“Dean? You’re alive?” Castiel grabs him before he can say anything else.

Spencer lowers his gun slowly. He’s starting to hyperventilate. He wants to know how Dean is still alive, yes, but he’s watching the way they embrace, the smile on Cas’s face and the way Dean’s shoulders seem to drop like he’s relaxing for the first time in a long time, and all he can think about is —

“Can somebody tell me where the hell Sam is?” Spencer asks, voice cracking embarrassingly.

“He’s not here,” Castiel says.

The woman looks between Cas and Spencer, eyes wide, and it’s not clear who she’s talking to when she asks, “Who are you?”

“He’s my —” Dean starts.

Cas cuts him off by saying, “He’s Sam’s —” at the same time Spencer blurts out, “He’s an angel.”

“Come again?” the woman asks, and when she sees the way Dean shifts nervously, she adds, “Not that, I don’t care about — you said angel?”

“Angel. You know. Wings, harp.”

“Not actually,” Spencer tells her, just as Cas scowls and says, “No, I don’t have a harp.”

“Cas, Spencer,” Dean says, and he pauses, swallowing hard. “This is Mary. Mary Winchester.”

Spencer and Cas speak in unison again, Cas in a gruff monotone as Spencer’s voice goes squeaky: “Your mother?”

Of all the things Spencer has worried about, he never thought he would never have to worry about making a bad first impression on Sam’s parents. Sam’s parents are dead.

Except… apparently not. Apparently Sam’s mom has been resurrected, and Spencer just pulled a gun on her.

“Nice to meet you,” Mary says softly, with a tentative smile.

For a second he freezes, staring at her, and his mind starts racing, recalculating, replanning, getting his worrying done after the fact, and Spencer has no idea what to say. He never made a plan for this.

“Nice to meet you,” he responds, flushing. “Um. Sorry about that.”

“I’d have done the same thing if I were you.” She smiles, and she doesn’t look much like Sam, but the kindness in her eyes is so very familiar. Spencer’s breath catches.

“She’s not kidding, shoulda seen the way she pinned me when I tried to introduce myself,” Dean grumbles. Then he turns to Castiel and says, “Tell me what happened to Sam.”

As Castiel starts to explain the details, Spencer calls Penelope.

“FBI, office of the brilliant but under-caffeinated,” she says, slightly less chirpy than he’s used to, and Spencer realizes how early it is. Oops.

“It’s me.”

“Oh! Boy genius! They did it, huh? Hotch called us back in, like, as soon as the sun came back on, because apparently criminals don’t stop just because the world is ending, or whatever, but he wanted to give you a day at least — hey, are you okay? How’s that handsome lumberjack of yours?”

“Sam’s missing,” Spencer says without preamble. “I need your help.”

It takes Penelope approximately a minute to find the car and identify the driver, but the identity of his passenger is a little more elusive. She types away, keys clattering ceaselessly in the background, as Spencer yawns.

“Got it! Okay, I have a cell number. If you call her, I can track it. You ready?”

“Dean, give me your phone?” Spencer asks, holding out a hand. “You stay on the line with Penelope. She can tell you as soon as she gets the address.”

“I can make the call,” Dean says. “I want to have a word with this bitch.”

“Dean,” Spencer snaps. “First of all, I’m the only person here who’s trained in hostage negotiation. Finding people is literally in my job description.”

“This isn’t a fuckin’ bank holdup, this is my brother,” Dean retorts. “It’s my job to take care of him.”

“If you call her a bitch and start in on your threatening macho bullshit, she’s going to hang up, or worse, she’s going to believe you, and then she’ll be trying to get you before you can get to Sam. I know how to talk to people like this. If I can convince her I’m scared, that I’m not a real threat, she might give something away.”

“But —”

“Secondly, the only people who know you’re alive are in this room right now, which means you’re our best chance to take her by surprise when we get there, so shut up and let me do my job.”

“You really think you can find him,” Dean says, and it’s not a question. He holds out his phone with a look of begrudging respect.

“Yes.”

Spencer thinks, I have to.

* * *

People aren’t all the same, but if you could quantify the concept of normal, if you could look at it statistically, most people would fall within the standard deviation. Most of their lives take an even, predictable shape, Spencer thinks. There are plenty of other people like them, and they seem to fit with each other, too, interlocking in an easy way that Spencer has always envied.

Spencer’s got all these awkward uneven edges and strange angles. He’s not normal, and he’s always known that.

For a long time, he doesn’t think he’ll ever find someone who’ll fit easily, not without changing him, trying to reshape him in some way. He doesn’t want to change, but he gets lonely. Most people (friends, let alone lovers) don’t last long before they get sick of his quirks. Some try longer than others, but one way or another, there’s always some jarring part of him that doesn’t match what they want.

What if they like to sleep with the windows open, even in the winter? Or if they sleep with the air conditioning cranked up in the summer? Spencer knows he should be better about compromising on little things like that, but he really prefers things a certain way. He knows it’s neurotic. He can’t help it.

Spencer is used to people staring blankly when he starts talking, but at what point will it drive someone away? When will they stop pretending to care about his Doctor Who opinions? When will they get bored of his info-dumping?

And then there are the really difficult questions. How does he tell someone he used to be an addict? What if he doesn’t want to tell them about being kidnapped and tortured? What if he does, and then they start asking questions? How does he explain his PTSD, or his nightmares, or his bedtime routine of triple-checking every lock and setting his gun within arm’s reach?

At first, when he met Sam, Spencer worried about arguments and parents and all the other normal things, but more importantly, he worried about himself. He wondered which of his irregularities would finally make Sam give up on his attempts to fit Spencer into his life.

Neither of them sleep much, but when they do end up sharing a bed, Sam has his own routine; while Spencer checks the locks, Sam draws warding symbols, lines each window and door with salt, and sets his gun within reach. He likes the windows closed and the thermostat above 68, because, he explains simply, “Lucifer runs cold.”

Speaking of Lucifer. Sam understands addiction, kidnapping, torture, PTSD, and nightmares, and he doesn’t ask Spencer to tell his stories before he’s ready. Sam has stories of his own.

Sam also has his own Doctor Who opinions, and those opinions were the cause of their very first argument. Sam is wrong, but Spencer loves that he cares enough to argue.

The first time Spencer started rambling about serial killers, he noticed Sam frowning and cut himself off, embarrassed, ready to apologize. Sam just pulled out a journal and asked him to repeat what he’d said, so that Sam could do more research on the subject later.

Sam doesn’t expect him to change. He doesn’t try to re-shape Spencer. His life is just as weird, and by all logic they shouldn’t fit, but they do. And Spencer doesn’t feel any less himself, but suddenly he realizes that he must’ve changed along the way, because he can’t imagine his life without Sam any more; if they can’t find him, his absence is going to tear Spencer apart.

* * *

It’s a tense car ride, to say the least.

Hell of a first impression, Spencer thinks again, glancing at Mary’s pale, worried face in the rearview.

Castiel and Mary are in the backseat, and they’re trying to make small talk, but Castiel seems to be about as good as Spencer at the whole “casual conversation” thing. Sam’s told him so much about Castiel, Spencer feels like he knows him, but they’ve never actually crossed paths before.

And then there’s Dean, who’s got his jaw clenched, staring straight ahead. Spencer gives him directions, and he grunts or nods, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Dean intimidates the hell out of him, but they’ve always gotten along fine, maybe because Spencer’s never yelled at him before. He’s very aware that arguing with Dean Winchester is usually fruitless at best (and deadly at worst), but he’s never been good at holding his tongue when he’s upset.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer manages to mutter eventually.

“Huh?” Dean looks at him, frowning.

“About earlier. I didn’t mean to — um.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dean says gruffly.

“I was upset. I’m sorry.”

Dean shrugs, and he hesitates before adding, “You were right.” He looks as surprised to be saying it as Spencer is to hear it.

Spencer blinks at him a couple times before hurriedly saying, “Turn left. There.”

Cas and Mary are having a quiet conversation about the weirdness of technology, and Spencer is about to join them when Dean speaks up again.

“Garcia — she said something funny.”

“Uh oh.”

Dean snorts. “Nah, not like that. Before she hung up, she told me not to worry. Said of everybody she knows, Sam probably has the second-best odds of escaping any poor sap who tries to abduct him.”

“Second best?”

“That’s what I said. But apparently that title belongs to you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. All I can do is talk myself out, he’s stronger.” Spencer gives him a crooked attempt at a smile; it feels awkward on his face, but he means it when he says, “He’ll be okay.”

* * *

The funny thing is, Spencer has been in this situation before.

When it was Maeve, though, he panicked, because all he could think about was how she must feel: scared, helpless. Spencer has too much empathy sometimes. Imagining Maeve’s helplessness made him feel like he was drowning.

This is different. He’s not exactly zen about the whole situation, of course; it feels like a piece of him is missing, but he’s clear-headed, because he knows that Sam is anything but helpless. He trusts Sam to take care of himself.

Aside from the supernatural element, Sam’s job is astoundingly similar to Spencer’s, and he’s astoundingly good at it. The Winchesters have consulted on a couple cases, now, for the B.A.U. (Spencer’s still not sure how Hotch manages the paperwork) and they try to find cases in the same general area as wherever Spencer winds up, so they’ve gotten to work together a few times. Sam’s sheer competence at his job might be the most attractive thing Spencer has ever seen.

Spencer used to imagine a quiet, mundane romance. He always just assumed he’d find someone whose life was more normal than his, and he was resigned to the stress it would cause in a relationship. He’d forget to call, he’d miss dinner, he’d have to cancel plans and be absent from so much of what constituted a normal domestic life, and his partner would be left at home, alone, all too aware of how much danger Spencer could be in, helpless to do anything about it.

Instead, Spencer found Sam. Spencer never has to feel guilty about missing dinner, because Sam isn’t at home worrying about him. Sam is out there saving the world.

Sam is not going to wait for Spencer to rescue him; he might not even need rescuing, at this point. Instead of worrying about what Sam is doing and whether he’s scared, Spencer can focus on his own plan.

* * *

He and Dean circle slowly around the house. They spot the entrance to the basement, and Dean almost runs right to it, but Spencer grabs his arm and points to the sigils around the door.

Spencer notices movement through a window next to the back door, and when they creep up to get a glimpse inside, he sees two women. One is the blonde — the brains of the operation — and the other is stockier, clearly the muscle.

After a quick conversation in whispers and gestures, Dean sneaks around to the side of the house opposite the basement, and a second later Spencer hears him shout. He waits a couple seconds and glances in the window again, and sure enough, the bigger woman is gone while the blonde is watching something on a computer monitor, looking agitated. Security cameras, maybe.

Spencer is about to go inside when he sees the blonde start, look around, and grab a cattle prod. Then she’s hurrying toward a door, sliding back a heavy deadbolt, and Spencer sees a dark stairwell that must lead to the basement.

He slips through the door and follows her.

For a split-second, the scene in the basement almost stops his heart. Sam is lying on the floor, completely still, his head surrounded by a puddle of blood.

But before Spencer can really process what he’s seeing, let alone react, Sam is in motion: lashing out, grabbing her by the throat, shoving her against the wall. Spencer descends the stairs quietly with his gun at the ready, trying not to make any noise that might distract Sam right now.

Sam doesn’t need his help. There’s blood on his damp clothes and his arms are shaking as the blonde goes limp in his grip, but he’s alive; he doesn’t need Spencer’s help, and Spencer isn’t the slightest bit surprised.

When Sam turns and sees him, he doesn’t look surprised either. He just smiles, all dimples and sparkling eyes in spite of his obvious pain as he limps over.

“Sorry that took me so long,” Spencer says casually, trying to control his grin. He doesn’t want to holster his gun yet, so he keeps it trained on the woman and hugs Sam one-armed.

Sam wraps his arms around Spencer, holding on tight. Spencer rests his forehead on Sam’s shoulder, taking a second to breathe as he feels missing pieces sliding neatly into place.

“Love you,” Sam says, and the words sound like a sigh of relief. He pulls back, and he looks surprised, like he didn’t actually mean to say that out loud.

Spencer’s about to reply when he sees the woman struggling to her feet, reaching for her cattle prod, and so instead he says, “Look out.”

Sam steps sideways to give him a clear shot. Spencer shoots her in the thigh and she screams as she falls to the floor.

“See how you like it,” Sam tells her, with a vicious little smile.

“I love you too,” Spencer blurts out.

For a second they both pause, grinning at each other like idiots, their surroundings forgotten.

Then there’s a sound from overhead, and Sam asks hurriedly, “The other one. Did you take her out already?”

“Dean’s got her,” Spencer tells him. “We should check on him, then we can come back down and deal with — Sam?”

At first he can’t figure out why Sam’s mouth drops open like that, shocked and disbelieving. Then he remembers.

“Dean’s alive?” Sam asks, a smile spreading slowly over his face. Spencer nods, wrapping an arm around Sam’s ribs, supporting him as he limps gingerly toward the stairs. It feels like he’s forgetting something.

There’s another noise, and then Mary is in the doorway, looking down at them.

Oh.

Sam turns to Spencer silently, like he’s waiting for confirmation that she’s real.

Spencer nods. “Yeah. So — um. Surprise?”

Sam doesn’t actually seem all that surprised, because… of course he doesn’t. He blinks at Spencer a couple times and then he grins.

“You met my mom before I did,” Sam says, breathless and amused, and grabs the banister to haul himself up the stairs. Spencer laughs and follows him, smiling to himself.

It’s not your average “meet the parents” scene, but somehow, it fits Sam and Spencer perfectly.

Nothing about their love story has been normal. Why start now?

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds #supernatural #sam winchester x spencer reid #spencer reid fic #sam winchester fic

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blackcherrykiss · 4 years ago

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BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.6)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] previous chapters

[CH.7] next chapter (unavailable, check back or follow for updates!)

genre: vampire au, romance, drama, mystery, thriller

note: written inspired by enhypen's storyline, given-taken lyrics & teasers. please keep in mind all members are apart of this fanfic and the main theme is mystery/drama!

*P.S swear words are used (i try not to use them often lol but i feel they added to the emotion in the dialogue) the beginning lowkey not proofread sorry happy readings!

"I sensed you were here." He commented sternly as he stood up from the piano bench.

You stepped back, "Y-you just play really well... Didn't mean to be a creep." You get shy with shivers after realizing he knew you were around. From what you recall, you were absolutely silent.

His wordless response was a cold signal to leave. And so you did. Whipping your head back behind you to see people begin to exit their rehearsal rooms. You left Jay alone as he probably wished, mindlessly waiting for your roommates to storm out. The doors along the hall were now wide open so that you could search the rooms. Like a scavenger hunt, you went in and out of each music room, clueless as to which one you would find your friends in.

"Y/N?" You hear Hyesun before you could even step foot into one of the larger sized rooms along the hall. You slung your head up in surprise to see your roommates chatting with faces you were tired of seeing.

"Long time no see." Heeseung visibly bit down on the tip of his tongue causing your emotions to run wild. You were irked to see Nana, Hyesun and Dahee (in case you forgot these are the names of y/n's dormmates) with Jaeyun, Heeseung and Sunghoon.

"Haha..." You laugh uncomfortably at the overwhelming mixture of people.

"We were just thinking about having a party before the upcoming long weekend," Sunghoon plastered a dark smile that you found strangely annoying. He had some corrupt aura and every bit of your gut felt alarmed by him.

"Jungwon is in the next room over, you should ask him to come here," Dahee said calmly and reassuringly. If anything all of your roommates looked unexpectedly comfortable and relaxed in the presence of some of the school's hottest boys. You imagined your friends to be flustered since they had secretly fangirled to you about them during late-night girl talks. It seemed they had become genuine friends instead of fangirls. It made you question your intuition and trust issues. Maybe it was just you overreacting and these boys were friends, not threats.

Nodding your head, you run off to where Dahee had mentioned Jungwon was. Chasing until you met a closed door with a dim light shining through its' crystallized glass. Listening close you could hear Jungwon sing softly through the door, making your heart rate rise a bit. Like a fool, your heart was going in circles. You focus your eyes through the bits of glass that didn't distort your vision to see Jungwon in pure grace.

"He sings pretty well doesn't he?" You felt a whisper brush the conch of your ear. Not even bothering to see who the whisper belonged to, you agreed.

"Yeah... I've never heard him sing before." You blush at yourself, finally taking a look to see who you were even talking to.

Your gaze met a pair of sharp cut out eyes, "If I heard a person sing like that, I'd be convinced I'm in love with them." Kim Sunoo taunted, trying to make it obvious that your feelings of interest were on full display, even to a stranger. "You might get hurt though, being in love with Jungwon." His voice was a deep frequency that hummed in the bloodstream of your ears.

"Why would it hurt?" Your curiosity getting the best of you.

"He's capable of things you don't want to imagine," Sunoo fakely sighed, his breath hitting the side of your neck. "Jungwon's truly a bad boy. Playing around such a delicate flower." And with that said, Sunoo swung the door right open.

Jungwon abruptly stopped mid sentence, startlement creating a pale cast over his face, "Y/N? What are you doing here?" Jungwon laughed a bit to himself, a little embarrassed after the fact you had probably heard him sing.

"She was standing outside since the beginning of the song." Sunoo smiled smugly before walking out, leaving you in the icy room alone with Jungwon.

"I didn't want to interrupt... That's not even the point... I came to tell you that my dormmates are in the other room talking with the guys."

"The guys?"

"You know... Sunghoon and them... I-I'd really appreciate if you were just there Jungwon." You were sincere because, for some reason, he looked lonely. You would also really feel more at ease with Jungwon around and you hoped your sincerity reached him.

Jungwon had put on a concerned face before dropping it, realizing he was overreacting."Oh. Alright... I'll be there in a few minutes." Jungwon got up, shuffling his sheet music stand into a neat stack that hid in the corner. He had responded in a way that was much calmer than you expected. Perhaps you were expecting him to lash out about being around his friends?

"But Jungwon I want to ask you something..." You hated the secrets between the two of you, it was a mystery game you didn't want to play anymore, "Can you just explain what your relationship with Sunoo... Not even Sunoo, the rest of the guys."

He stopped in his tracks, knowing you were tired of his lies. "We're all orphans from the same orphanage. We just never got adopted." He spoke bluntly in a cold and rushed tone. His answer was enough to have you not ask any more questions about their relationship as it seemed too personal and insensitive of you to keep asking. "Since we were all too old to stay at the orphanage, some social workers came and took us to live in a house together. The house is just on the outskirts of the school but we only go there for long weekends and breaks when there is nobody on campus..." The realization of when Jungwon had said Heeseung was his dormmate came back to you. "They're like my brothers. But, some bad things happened to them in an incident we had a couple of years back at this carnival.. We were never the same after that." Jungwon had gotten somewhat emotional blurting it all out. He had choked up as you heard his words full of frustration built up in his throat. When you looked deeper into him, you found your heartache as his eyes glittered with tears.

"I-I trust you Jungwon. I'm so sorry I must've put you in an uncomfortable situation." You felt like an awful human being hearing his story.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm being too protective with you over those guys. I'm sorry about that. I just see you and get worried. They've become bad people..." He slid his fingertips from his forehead up until they tangled with the roots of his hair, closing his eyes to conceal his emotions.

You could've just hugged him right then seeing him in the midst of crying but your mind was a haze, foggy with not wanting to cross the unspoken boundaries between the two of you. The skinship of hugging was still considered too much for your friendship and you weren't openly ready to have the feelings of endearment that come with carrying out such an intimate gesture. You knew by being in such close distance with him would make you a fool for love.

"I think we should go to the others." You darted with a sudden wall forming between the both of you. You shuddered in pain with your cold remark after Jungwon had just revealed something so deep and vulnerable to you. Even if Jungwon had just told you an intimate part of his identity it was like he became more of a stranger to you. It seemed everything Jungwon was saying was quite true but still Sunoo's words had scarred your subconscious of falling in love with him or even merely liking him. Jungwon had said the boys were bad people but what excluded him from them?

You made your way back, leaving Jungwon to be alone and cool down from whatever you had just made him think of. Every second, regretting you didn't just wrap your arms around him and comfort him. Had it not been for Sunoo, maybe you would've trusted there was nothing more to what Jungwon than what he had just said.

"Did you find Jungwon?" Dahee lifted her eyes off of Sunghoon to yours. You got deja vu when you saw Sunghoon staring at Dahee with the same eyes he used during the commotion at the library.

"Yeah, I think he's just packing up his stuff right now..." You gulp awkwardly as everyone had settled into smaller groups. You think your eyes were deceiving you when you noticed Sunoo now in the room, being quick to withdraw from the conversation he was having with Hyesun and Nana to approach you.

"You don't look well. Something happen between you and Jungwon?" A wicked bubble of laughter rising in his chest.

"Not at all..." It was half true half not. Nothing had really happened mentally or physically but emotionally, there was something.

"Interesting because I was just asking those two girls about you and Jungwon. It seems you two are a lot closer than I anticipated."

"We're just friends, we're just getting closer these days."

"Sweetheart, he's not really trying to be your friend, right? He's just using you like how these boys are doing with your girl friends right now."

"Using us? Using me? Our relationship isn't that shallow. Maybe your dimwit friends would do that but I know Jungwon." You were offended by his assumption, who was Sunoo to claim such an idea?

"What makes you think you know him?" Sunoo laughed gravely at your statement. "I've heard a lot about you from Heeseung and Jaeyun, Y/N." Sunoo used your name. It seemed you both knew each other's names without having to directly say it or formally introduce yourselves.

"I'm flattered I'm that pretty enough to them that they would talk about me, Kim Sunoo." You used his name in the same power he had used yours in a sentence.

"More than just pretty, you should watch yourself. The pretty girls of this school don't last very long in this school."

"And why is that?"

"I think you'll find out soon enough." Sunoo snickered while swaying himself up and away after looking at the doorway.

"It looks like a party in here." Jay had entered with an arm hanging around Jungwon. You hadn't realized how packed the room was until Jay mentioned it.

"Yeah and we're planning one right now." Heeseung spat in a jokingly annoyed tone at Jay.

"A party???" He laughed, "If the school finds girls with us outside school grounds or even near the dorm we'll all be fucking expelled." Jay raised his scratched brow in interest as to Heeseung's response.

"Yeah as if the teachers are even awake super late at night. Literally, no one monitors the halls at night." Heeseung let out an airy scoff from across the room. You and your roommates were all flustered at the plan of a party so late at night. You were embarrassed your mind was even in that direction. "Our place is not far from here Jay, calm the fuck down."

"H-hey I think us girls will head off to eat, we'll settle the plans another time." Nana made eye contact with all the girls as a signal to exit. It seemed the mood took a bitter turn when Jay had entered.

It was an awkward scurry out the door as Nana pulled Hyesun with her. You shortly followed, looking behind you to see Jungwon give a lifeless stare at the ground. Your eyes focusing in on Sunghoon who whispers ever-so closely to Dahee. Whatever he told her, it tinted her face a plush pink.

"Dahee let's go." You glared at Sunghoon before putting on a sweet smile toward Dahee. You couldn't just watch Sunghoon act like such a flirt to Dahee, not when you knew something was also going on between him and Kyungeun.

...

Dahee hums beside you as Nana and Hyesun walk in front. The four of you were quiet, not one of you bringing up the encounter with the boys.

"Do you guys actually want to have a party with them?" You interrupt the silence.

"Y/N they are the hottest guys at our school, do you think we're going to pass on the opportunity?" Hyesun answers.

"Jaeyun told me he and Heeseung could get a couple of drinks from the town over the weekend." Nana added.

"Drinks?! How? Were literally all minors?!" You freaked out like a child.

"Not sure... I do admit though... I'm scared we'll get caught." Nana admitted making you feel reassured knowing she was leaning more toward not having a party.

"What else did you guys already discuss about the party?" You asked, hungry for the details.

"Apparently they've got a place really close by to here. I guess they live together?" The thought of what Jungwon had said to you earlier about the boys all being orphans came back to you.

"Where exactly is there place?"

"Somewhere in the woods of school." _________ author here lol just want to check in and make sure everyone remembers everything from the very first chapter :-) i told you guys that stuff mentioned in early chapters have big significance in the later chapters! Also feel so bad there are so many characters to keep track of LOL I will make a profile of all the characters once everyone is introduced.

Please leave feedback if you have any and thank you for being patient!

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