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tennessoui · 3 years

Note

when is anakin going to get his revenge and kiss divorced obi-wan back

yes hello this got out of hand and the best moment would be in the hypothetical part two but here is a KUWSK directly post kiss from Anakin's pov. For context, this snippet and this snippet probablllyyyy should be read?

(2.8k, ffs @ kit)

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself after he drops the kids off at school and starts making the drive back home. His hands are tight on the wheel. He’s been trying to think about something else--anything else ever since it happened, but his mind refuses to let go of that moment.

He’s replayed it so many times in the last hour and a half that it doesn’t even feel like an actual memory anymore, just a combination of sensations.

The chill of the almost winter morning that made the hair on his arms stick up. The tacky feeling in his mouth because he had slept a bit later than he had wanted to and didn’t have time to brush his teeth if he wanted to make breakfast before the kids and Obi-Wan left.

The woodsy-spiced smell of Obi-Wan’s cologne, stronger than normal. They’d been standing closer together than normal too, but it had been so early and Obi-Wan’s mind had obviously been miles away.

Anakin had been saying something stupid, something that didn’t mean anything, and Obi-Wan had replied and then Obi-Wan had leaned in and kissed him, full on the mouth. His beard had felt so soft against Anakin’s skin, his lips even softer, if a bit chapped.

Had they been chapped? Now Anakin can’t remember, he’s turned this memory over in his head so often. It had been for less than a handful of seconds. A quick brush of lips, a taste of a life Anakin has dreamt about for well over a year now. And Obi-Wan had just turned and left, as if he hadn’t done anything extraordinary. As if he hadn’t just kissed Anakin on the porch for everyone to see.

Obi-Wan would never be that cruel on purpose. Perhaps to that one profesor who always tries to refute Obi-Wan’s papers, but not to Anakin.

Which means Obi-Wan hadn’t been thinking. He had been perhaps caught up in the domesticity of it all, of having someone wish him luck and see him off. And maybe Anakin has been doing something like that for the last two years, but there’s a person who did that for Obi-Wan for much longer. A person they ran into at the park just two days ago.

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself as he gets out of the car and unlocks the house. He tries desperately to keep the despair and jealousy out of his voice, but at least no one’s around. It’s not that he hates the woman or anything. Really, he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand her, but that’s a given.

He’d never have Obi-Wan’s heart and soul and throw it away. He’d never get tired of fighting with Obi-Wan if he was fighting to stay with the man. He’d never be able to run into him at a park and then just leave again as if seeing him stirred up nothing inside of him.

Seeing Obi-Wan always stirs things up inside of Anakin. It makes no sense that Satine, who had had Obi-Wan’s love--knew all those things about the man that Anakin did not and could not know as just his housemate--had just been satisfied with saying hello and then just as quickly goodbye.

The same cold sinking feeling that Anakin’s been trying to shake off for the last two and a half days returns, and he has to lean against the countertop in the kitchen for a second to ground himself.

They’re going to get back together. They will.

At the park, they had seemed so in their own world, as if everything else had disappeared except for them. Anakin had had to send Luke over, couldn’t stand watching that reconnection happen without at least trying to remind Obi-Wan that he has a family now, that he’s not alone anymore, that there are people who love him.

Obi-Wan had glared at him for his meddling, which hadn’t admittedly done wonders to his confidence. And when Obi-Wan had deposited Luke--Luke--on the ground to chase after Satine, when he had hugged her, Anakin knew for sure.

They were going to lose him.

Anakin had had his set of chances and had taken none of them, and now Obi-Wan’s going to re-fall in love with his ex-wife and Anakin’s going to have to be the supportive best friend who has to figure out how to tell his children that due to unforeseen and tragic circumstances, their Obi is probably going to elope to Paris and maybe send a postcard once or twice a year addressed solely to the children and Anakin will grow old and die alone and the name Obi-Wan Kenobi will be banned from his small, shadowy apartment, and all Anakin will have is a few memories of the two most important and heart wrenching kisses he’s ever been a part of in his entire life.

“He was thinking about Satine,” he tells himself. “He kissed me but it wasn’t about me. It hasn’t ever been about me.”

There’s no denying that Obi-Wan loves Anakin’s children and also no denying that his children love Obi-Wan. Anakin thinks he wouldn’t love Obi-Wan half as much if he hadn’t absolutely been charmed by the kids and vice versa. But he had been. They had been. Those few weeks when Anakin had thought about leaving a year ago had been absolutely awful because he knew he would be breaking his twins’ hearts, not just his. He’d be hurting Obi-Wan too, he had known that.

But he had had to try. Because he knew that if he didn’t try to leave then he’d have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of Obi-Wan’s life when it came time for the man to grow tired of his presence.

It had been a last ditch attempt at saving his dignity. And it hadn’t taken much argument from everyone else to get him to abandon the idea completely.

Now he can’t help but to think he should have put his foot down, gotten some distance. Because now he’s entrenched in Obi-Wan’s world, the same way Obi-Wan is entrenched in his and the twins’ world. Leaving now will feel like ripping himself in two. He’ll probably wake up in the middle of the night five years from now and wonder about the academic response to Obi-Wan’s most recent publication.

He’ll probably have read it. He’ll probably still be fielding questions from his kids’ friends’ parents about whatever happened to that handsome man that used to come in to help during Show-And-Tell Day? Do you remember who I’m talking about, Anakin?

If he had left then, the idea of leaving now wouldn’t hurt so much. But there’s a ticking clock in his head.

Obi-Wan kissed him.

But he was thinking about Satine.

He calls Padme, because that’s sort of what he does when he doesn’t know what to do. She’s never turned him away--with the rejected marriage proposal being the one glaring exception, of course.

Thankfully, she doesn’t start now, though she does sound a little stressed when she picks up.

“Hey,” he says trying to sound normal and as if he isn’t a few minutes alone with his thoughts away from crying like a baby.

“Ani?”

“Are you--are you busy? Something sort of happened.”

“My flight is boarding,” Padme admits, but there’s a rustle on the other end of the line like she’s just sat down. “But it’s not like I’m not assigned a seat. They won’t leave without me. What happened?”

Anakin smiles in spite of himself. She’s really just such an angel of a person.

“Are the children alright?” she asks, sounding worried the longer it takes for Anakin to respond. “Ani?”

“No, yeah, the children are fine. I dropped them off at school this morning. But. Um.” He takes a deep breath. “Obi-Wankissedme.”

“I’m sorry?” Padme asks.

“Obi-Wan kissed me.”

The other end of the line is silent. “And we’re calling this a problem now?” she asks faintly. “Is he a bad kisser?”

“He’s a great kisser,” Anakin defends, shifting awkwardly on his feet, catching sight of the fridge door and quickly turning away.

“Then I don’t…?” Padme trails off uncertainly. Anakin can understand this confusion. Padme has only had to hear about how much Anakin wants Obi-Wan to kiss him for about two years now.

“I don’t think he realized he did it,” Anakin confesses. “He just did it as he was leaving. Because I said goodbye. It--I don’t think he realized who he was kissing.”

Now Padme sounds a distinct mix of skeptical and sympathetic, a tone Anakin’s only ever heard her use with him. “What makes you say that?”

“Because--because we went to the park the other day and he ran into his ex-wife and they were together for, for years so--so obviously he just--he wasn’t--it wasn’t me he was kissing. He was thinking about Satine.”

The words sound dull and practiced and lifeless.

“Oh, Anakin,” Padme says.

“And they’re probably gonna get back together, and we’re going to have to leave, and he’ll never know that I--” Anakin cuts himself off and thunks his head on the countertop with a groan.

Padme hums disbelievingly. “Anakin, I know you’ve never believed me when I say this, but that man is gone over you. And I think if he kissed you long enough for you to tell me for certain that he’s a good kisser, then he definitely knew he was kissing you.”

Anakin bites his lip and debates the pros and cons of being completely truthful. But he had called Padme for help, and she can’t provide the best advice if she doesn’t know the full story.

“That’s not the first time he’s kissed me,” Anakin finally admits, rubbing bashfully at the back of his neck.

“What?” Padme exclaims, probably much louder than appropriate for a public space. “Anakin Skywalker, explain yourself right now.”

He exhales forcefully. “Last New Year’s Eve party.”

“That was almost a year ago! And nothing else ever happened between you two? What? We always thought that once the first kiss was out of the way we’d need to beat you both with sticks to keep you off each other.”

“Well--wait, who’s we?”

Padme tsks. “Myself and Obi-Wan’s coworker.”

“You’ve been gossiping about me?” Anakin asks, torn between being flabbergasted and offended.

“That’s not important right now,” Padme says airily. “What’s important here is the fact that you apparently kissed Obi-Wan Kenobi and never told me?”

“He doesn’t remember, okay?” Anakin snaps. “He. We’d been drinking. A lot. It was after everyone left. And. I was in the kitchen and he was in the kitchen and he--”

--had pinned him to the front of the fridge and just looked at Anakin for a few seconds like he was the most precious, important thing in the entire world, and Anakin had opened his mouth to say something and Obi-Wan had--

“--kissed me,” Anakin says out loud. “And then he--”

He had pressed impossibly closer to Anakin, one hand wrapped around his hip, caressing the thin skin there while his other hand ghosted down Anakin’s hair and back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch, as his tongue mapped out Anakin’s mouth for what could have been seconds or minutes, and Anakin could have stayed there forever, but his own hands had grabbed too tightly onto Obi-Wan’s shoulders, must have jerked him forward too roughly, because he had been pushed away and--

“--threw up in the kitchen sink,” he finishes.

There’s dead silence on the other end of the line before Padme bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay,” she says once she’s calmed down. “But how do you know for sure he forgot about that? Sounds like something he might just never want to talk about if it ended up with him vomiting in the kitchen.”

“I just know,” Anakin promises. And he does. Obi-Wan had no idea about that kiss. It was a secret Anakin thought about too often, but one he had kept to himself for nearly a year, too afraid to reveal it to Obi-Wan only for the man to say he hadn’t meant to, it hadn’t meant anything, he’d been much too drunk.

Even the idea of Obi-Wan apologizing for one of the hottest kisses Anakin’s ever experienced in his life has been enough to keep Anakin silent on the matter.

But now he’s been kissed again, this time by a sober Obi-Wan, and it still--it still doesn’t mean anything.

“It didn’t mean anything to him then, or he would have remembered,” Anakin tells Padme. “And this one doesn’t mean anything either. The timing is just...it can’t be a coincidence, Padme. He’s never once thought about kissing me, about...about coming home to me like that, and now, a few days after he runs into his ex-wife he’s suddenly planting one on me as he walks out the door? I know--I know you think he...he might...he might have liked me, or...or wanted me, but. There’s no way I can hold a candle to a decades long marriage. I just. I can’t compete with that. He doesn’t want me to.”

Padme’s Anakin is cut off on her end by what sounds like a flight attendant. “Yes, I’m coming,” Padme tells the person, and there’s shuffling and then the distinct sound of the harsh beep of the ticket scanner, before Padme’s heels are clicking on the flight tunnel. “Do not rush me,” Padme tells someone. “What are you going to do, close this thing while I’m in it?”

Anakin has to hide his only sort of watery smile in his hand as he listens quietly on his end.

“Anakin?” Padme asks, and she must be on the plane because there’s a buzz of other people’s noises around her. “Anakin, I know you won’t believe me, and maybe--maybe you’re right and they’ll get back together, maybe you’re going to lose him.” Anakin’s heart hurts quite painfully at these words. “But do you remember what you did the first time you proposed to me and I said no?”

Great, yeah. Just bring up all his biggest failures in love. Sure, why start with Padme? When Anakin had been five he had tried to kiss a boy and been shoved into the mud for his efforts. That’s a fine place to begin, really. Just drag up all the old hurts. He sighs. “I went and got you a bigger ring.”

“And do you remember what you did when I told you that I couldn’t raise the children, but my parents wanted to?”

“I threatened to take them to court if they didn’t let me have them,” Anakin says. It hadn’t been his proudest moment, of course, but Padme’s parents had never really liked him. They still don’t.

Someone’s trying to talk to Padme on the other end of the line. “Yes, fine,” she snaps. “Anakin. Anakin, what I’m trying to say is I’ve never seen you give up on anything without at least trying to fight for it. And I don’t know why this should be different. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you have to watch him get back together with his ex-wife and know you never even tried to tell him he had other options.”

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, speechless. “Then what--”

“So go,” Padme cuts him off. “Go tell him he has other options! For fuck’s sake, yes, alright I’m getting off the phone. Anakin, when I land I expect to have a very detailed account of events waiting for me on my email. Goodbye.”

She hangs up. Anakin stares at the phone in his hand for a handful of seconds, thinking over what she’s said. What she’s implied.

She’s right, of course. Anakin never gives in this easily. He doesn’t fully understand why he’s so ready to capitulate now. Maybe he knows full-well he can’t compete with whatever Obi-Wan had with his ex-wife. They have history. They grew up together, became adults together. Anakin’s just this weird twenty-eight year old man with a pair of kids too old for his age who crashed at Obi-Wan’s house during the lowest moment of his life. Of maybe both of their lives.

Love can’t bloom from that. Not really. Not...not the sort of love that turns into a lifelong marriage.

But. Padme’s right. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t try. If he doesn’t know for sure.

So either he could putter around the house all day waiting for Obi-Wan to text or call or come home, talking himself into and out of confessing every emotion he’s harbored for the man for the past two years, or….or he could drive to his campus and confront him in his office, put himself on the execution block and hand Obi-Wan the axe. At least it would be a quick death.

He glances at the digital clock on the oven. 9:38. The idea of waiting ten hours for a resolution makes his skin crawl.

And besides.

Obi-Wan hadn’t packed a lunch.

#this is unread through #because i have housework i have put off in order to type this #i think we all know where this is going though #anakins gonna Do Something Ill-Advised #asks #KUWSK #poor anakin :'(#i imagine obi-wan was probably very pensive for the rest of the day after the park #and anakins just panicking and thinking that he's thinking about his ex wife #and obi-wan kind of is but he's mostly thinking about his new family #and he's thinking a lot about anakin #if only they c o m m u n i c a t e d

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 2 (Nessian)

Damnation Series

Parts 1 / 3 / 4 / 5

_____________________________________________________

~Nesta~

The day after meeting my fiancé, I drop Alexei off at the plane, tell him goodbye, and drive further down the tarmac to where Cassian’s waiting in a completely different private plane.

Very environmentally conscious, our lifestyle

The stairs are unfolded, so after making sure my luggage is transferred over, I head inside.

Cassian’s waiting, sipping bourbon despite the fact that it’s nine in the morning.

He’s dressed in dark jeans, boots, and a black long sleeve t-shirt that makes the tattoos on his hands and knuckles seem even more pronounced. He seems more comfortable now than yesterday.

Like he’s not trying to fit into the mold of a respectable gentleman in a suit.

He looks over as my heels click against the floor, eyes dragging up my legs, pausing at my chest, and scanning my face.

“Hey,” he murmurs, almost like he doesn’t know what else to say.

My lips twitch as I slide into the seat across from him, staying silent for now to throw him off.

As expected, he shifts in his seat, looking mildly uncomfortable.

Then, like he realizes what I’m doing, he narrows his eyes. “You realize that a woman who just sits there, looks pretty, and doesn’t argue is pretty much a man’s dream, right?”

A smile tugs at my lips, but I sigh like I’m not the least bit amused. “Good morning, Cassian.”

His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to determine the proper response for such a ground-breaking conversation opener.

He finally decides on: “You don’t have an accent.”

“Not when I speak English.”

Alexei, the hypocritical bastard, said English should sound like English and Russian should sound like Russian.

“Do you speak any other languages?” he asks, apparently not having looked in my file. He’s probably trying to figure out if his secret conversations with his fellow countrymen are safe.

“I speak Italian, since that’s what you really want to know.”

He grins, playful light in his eyes. “I think I’d like to hear that.”

An amused laugh escapes me at that, but I give him what he wants as I murmur, “Sono sicuro che lo faresti.” I’m sure you would.

His eyes seem to darken, and I roll my eyes. Men.

“I speak a little Russian, but not much,” he tells me. Considering I, unlike him, I did my homework, I already knew that.

Done with this conversation, I close my eyes and attempt to sleep. A plan that goes out the window when Cassian says confidently, “I usually only speak Italian when I fuck.”

I know he’s trying to feel me out, get a rise out of me, so I keep my voice completely deadpan as I reply, “Interesting. I tend to choose French.”

He laughs, face splitting into a humongous, goofy-looking grin. “Now that, I can’t wait to hear.”

Ah, yes. Because the idea I won’t sleep with him is unthinkable.

To me, too, but at least I’m not an asshole about it. Time to humble him a bit.

I feign like I’m not attracted to him in the slightest as I make a show of looking him over. “I never said you would, tupitsa.”

Before he can respond to me calling him a dumbass, I close my eyes and go to sleep.

~Cassian~

My fiancé passes out in a matter of seconds. It’s a little impressive, honestly. One second she’s teasing me with the thought of French whispers under silk sheets, the next she’s dead to the world.

I, unfortunately, am stuck on the first part.

Fuck, she’s hot.

It’s an effortless sort of beauty, considering she isn’t wearing makeup and her hair appears to be naturally blonde and straight.

Regardless, she looks like she just stepped off a runway.

Delicate bone structure, fierce eyes, full lips that sounded so good saying my name it took me a moment to formulate a response.

Distracting curves, sweeping hips, long legs that are currently crossed and allowing the slightest hint of lace at the top of her stocking to show.

My dick takes notice of that site, and I remind the greedy bastard she’s a Russian--an enemy--but he doesn’t seem to care. Nope, he wants me to peel those stockings down. With my teeth.

What’s somehow hotter than even her choice of legwear is the fact that she isn’t doing it on purpose. She’s completely relaxed, asleep for God’s sake, not trying to seduce me.

I grit my teeth and look out the window.

Like every other time I fly, I get restless after about ten minutes. I pull out my phone and make sure everything’s ready for when we land, work on my laptop for a bit, stare at Nesta sleeping for a longer bit, and pace the aisle like a caged lion when I start to feel like a creep.

Because I’ve been dealing with administrative shit like getting engaged, it’s been a while since I’ve done something to quell the rush in my blood.

Business, surprisingly, is boring when an army of hateful Russians isn’t trying to kill you all the time. I haven’t fought in days, haven’t shot my gun in longer.

I send Ricardo a text and have him set up a fight for tonight, but even the thought of the coming violence does nothing to help me calm down.

By the time we land, I’m more than ready to get the hell out of this plane.

Nesta wakes up when the wheels touch down, stretching and looking annoyingly well rested.

As the plane taxis, I tell her, “I have to work tonight.”

It’s a lie, and she cocks her eyebrow like she knows it. But she doesn’t call me on it, doesn’t even seem that interested. “I already requested a separate car.”

My brows furrow because I hate being predictable, but I keep my mouth shut.

Nesta stands as the stairs drop open, straightening her dress and pulling it down over the lacey top of her stockings that are now right in front of my face.

Before I even realize what she’s about, there’s a sharp smack to the bottom of my chin that forces my head up. She tsks, shaking her head teasingly.

“What was that for?” I ask, even though I already know.

She grabs her bag, and I follow as she walks down to the tarmac. “Somnophilia.”

I take a second to look up what the hell that is, laughing so hard I have tears in my eyes when I find the definition. Nesta shakes her head, small smile on those distracting lips, and walks to her waiting driver.

“I’ll see you at home, wife,” I call, not able to resist.

She just flips me the bird over her shoulder, making me laugh again.

Like I said, not what I was expecting.

~Nesta~

Things with Cassian are going... well, I guess.

He has the emotional maturity of a seventeen year old boy, but he isn’t terrible. As long as he stays out of my way, I dare say this marriage might work.

He’ll go about his business, I’ll go about mine, and we’ll avoid each other for happily ever after just like the fairytales say.

I shake my head as Maxim, one of the first New York transplants, navigates us through the city and to Sera. I’ve visited all my clubs at least once, and I have to admit, this one is by far my favorite.

As it should be.

The other three I run in New York were all my father’s originally. Built by a man, for the entertainment of men, I have to say they aren’t places I’d visit myself.

But I built Sera from the ground up, and while it’s designed to appeal to both men and women, men are--for the first time in history--not the priority.

The building it’s located in is a skyscraper, one I rent out to different businesses that don’t need an entire place to themselves. The ground floor is a bank, one that discretely cleans Russian money and makes us more through interest.

All in all, an unremarkable location to the public eye.

But every night, after normal banking hours have long passed, a select number of guests are invited to Sera--a speakeasy-type burlesque club with a hidden entrance in the secondary vault of the bank.

It’s secret, exclusive, and private as hell.

When we get to the bank, I enter the passcode on the side door--changed nightly--and walk through the silent lobby to the back room where the bouncer sits on a wooden stool.

“Privet, boss,” the burly man greets, sweeping the door open and ushering me through with a meaty hand. “Man in the back is asking for the owner.”

I nod and step inside, the door immediately closing behind me.

It’s the perfect level of crowded; enough people that no one stands out but not packed to the point of misery. By design, of course.

Everything seems to be the same as when I visited a few months ago except for the changed flooring I had installed last week. The tables and booths in the back are full of people captivated by the jazz singer on stage, a woman I discovered while walking to a business meeting in Paris.

Her cigarette-roughened voice had pulled me in, much like it does the audience now, and I’d offered her a job on the spot.

One of the bartenders, an ex-con who was locked up for stealing insulin for his diabetic daughter, smiles at me and slides me a tumblr of vodka as I make my way over.

“Good to see you,” Dima greets warmly. “How long are you here for?”

“Permanently.”

His eyebrows shoot up, which makes sense, considering the engagement hasn’t been announced properly. We’re apparently having a party of some kind in two weeks to celebrate the big news.

“I’ll explain later,” I tell him, noticing a group of people approaching the bar.

He nods, and I slip away towards the back corner where a roped-off set of stairs lead down to the basement below.

Like usual, there’s a private poker game happening in the main room of the bottom floor, and I stop to make say a few hellos but eventually move on to the hallway containing offices for some of the management.

The soldier stationed at the door to mine nods in acknowledgement, then tells me a whale’s inside.

My brows raise at the idea of a big-time investor coming to see me at this hour, but I shrug and walk in, shoulders back and face blank. I learned a long time ago to never let my emotions play out on my face.

The man waiting inside looks to be in his forties, richer than sin, and cold. Mafia, undoubtedly. His dark eyes rake over me, and he asks in a tone I don’t appreciate, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Nesta Orlov. You requested to speak to me?”

His bushy brows pinch together. “No, I want to speak to the owner.”

“One and the same.”

“I was told Cassian Azara is the owner.”

My jaw clenches at the thought that we’ve been engaged for less than two days and people already assume my shit is his. “By who?” I ask, remembering our upcoming nuptials aren’t even public news yet.

“My Capo.”

That gets my attention.

Rhysand’s telling people my club is Cassian’s? Why?

Something isn’t right.

I might not know the Italian boss, but I’ve heard he’s straightforward. Ruthless but honest. So why would he lie?

A little voice inside my head whispers, What if he isn’t?

Mind whirling, I turn to the man and smile politely even though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. “Would you mind giving me a moment? If you go upstairs, our bartender will get you anything you want, on the house.”

He shrugs and leaves, and as soon as the door clicks shut, I go to my desk and pull up the electronic copy of our marriage contract.

Like I thought, nothing’s amiss.

I read this shit thoroughly enough to know exactly what I was getting into, and in case I missed anything, I had my private lawyer scan over it.

But that little voice, that gut feeling, refuses to go away. So I grab my bag and look through the physical copy, dread unfurling when I notice an extra page tucked in the middle.

It’s a prenup.

One I’ve never seen.

And there, smack dab in the middle, is a line declaring the deed to Sera the property of Cassian Azara.

A rough breath forces its way out of me, and for a second, I’m so angry, so blind with rage, I can’t hardly think. What the hell is going on?

I force myself to think through this, to rationalize what I’m seeing.

Replaying the moment in the Capo’s office, I realize the switch between the original and this version of the contract must’ve happened prior. I was only in there a few minutes and had the papers in my hand the whole time.

Which means...

Alexei picks up on the first ring, like he was waiting for the call. “Da.”

“What the hell have you done?”

He sighs. “What needed doing.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I wasn’t the one who started a goddamn war with the Italians, and yet I’m the one who’s paying all the prices. I’m marrying the bastard, for fuck’s sake. Give him one of your clubs.”

His tone hardens. “He didn’t want anything else.”

“I don’t give a shit! This place is my property. It isn’t yours to give away.” I take a deep breath and try to quiet the rushing in my veins. “That idiot will run it into the ground.”

There’s a long moment, and I swear he sounds a little guilty as he says calmly, “He has more than a few businesses of his own, Nesta. It will be fine.”

I pinch my lips together to keep from cursing the man who raised me.

“If you read the document,” he says, a strange note to his voice. “You’ll notice there are a number of clauses.”

My eyes scan to the bottom of the page, and I read as Alexei continues. “He is permitted from selling, unless to you. The investors have the option to vote him out at any time. And if he is unfaithful to you or ends the engagement for whatever reason, Sera is returned to you in full.”

All the violence, all the rage, seems to dim. Just a little.

This is so like Alexei; in fact, it was one of his first lessons to me.

Give someone the illusion of winning, and they’ll sign anything you want them to.

I read through the clauses again, lips twitching. “Let me get this straight. If I can prove Cassian Azara--notorious playboy of New York--is cheating on me, the club is mine? And if the board at Sera votes him out, he can’t fight it?”

I can practically hear my father’s smile. “Da.”

“Or if I drive him crazy and he ends the engagement?”

“Da.”

Sounds easy enough. I drive Alexei absolutely insane and have never had a long-term relationship. I’ll have him running for the hills in no time.

One thing doesn’t make sense, though. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t sign. It’s still a risk, even with the clauses” He takes a deep breath. “I never told you, but we were losing the war in New York. We would’ve lasted another year, and then we would’ve lost the city.”

“Alexei-”

“I need this alliance to hold, Volchonok,” he says. “And either of you calling off the engagement or divorcing the other is grounds for the war to start back up.”

“So you’re saying I still need to marry him.”

He gruffs a confirmation, and my brain whirls as it thinks of a new plan.

My options are down to three: have him sell to me, prove he’s cheating, or get the board to vote him out.

“One more thing. You only have until the wedding. Once you’re married, the only way to get your property back is if he signs the deed to you.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, moving my timeline up by a factor of a hundred. Checking the calendar proves what I already know: I have less than thirty days to somehow convince one of the most notoriously stubborn men in the world to give me a multi-million dollar company.

Easy.

“I’m... sorry. For lying.”

I’m so shocked he just apologized--something he’s never done in my twenty-five years of life--it takes me a moment to respond and tell him he’s forgiven. “Ty proshchen, otets.”

I disconnect the call and swivel around in the chair, a smile pulling on my lips.

I’m going to drive him fucking crazy. All while I make him fall in love with me.

Oh, Cassian. I almost feel sorry for you.

_______________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #acosf #nesta archeron #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 3 years

Text

Game Master Akuma AU by crisisdparity

Xavier Duchamp was rather proud of himself. What he had before him was an absolute masterpiece of a campaign if he did say so himself. The product of over six months of study, research, and rebalancing efforts followed by two weeks of discussion with his five players to hash out schedules, meeting times, characters, backstories, potential character arcs, and getting them set up with a messaging app that was really good for sending discrete messages between the GM and the players. Valentine and her boyfriend Justin were onboard in an instant. Within days, he’d greenlighted their Half-Elf Bard of the College of Glamour whose spell list was 100% Illusion spells and Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) who was focusing entirely on Abjuration as Rena Rouge and Carapace respectively. Olivia had spent a few days coming up with a Halfling Rogue and debating subclasses with him until settling on Scout. Along with some discussion over how her special magic item’s stunning and paralysis effect would work with Sneak Attack, the campaign had its Vesperia. Jeanette had gone back and forth with him for a week looking at various homebrew subclasses for her Gnome Artificer before they both agreed on one particular Master Tinkerer entry that would be balanced and do the character justice. And with that they had their Ladybug. Even Matt was on board with a stealthy human Chat the Barbarian using the Path of the Beast. The class choice was something Matt had insisted on (and that Xavier would have suggested anyway just for the high hit point totals given Matt’s history with characters dying) and he’d even come up with a backstory that Xavier felt was quite compelling compared to Matt’s usual efforts. Morally ambiguous, likely to be tempted by promises of power, but with a great deal of story potential to work with. Which was a relief. Getting a new player into their group to replace Matt was not something Xavier really felt comfortable with. There were too many unknowns with introducing a new person, far too many for him to risk his masterpiece on an unknown factor. He knew Matt. He could work with Matt. Despite the history. He’d put everything he had into this. Every known Akuma ever fought by the heroes had been made into a boss-tier foe. He’d carefully documented each and every power the heroes had shown to craft special legendary magic items based on the Miraculous. Hawkmoth and Mayura themselves were going to be the final bosses of his campaign. In response to criticism about the difficulty of his campaigns (he tried to make them fair, but still challenging enough to be memorable), he’d made several guest NPCs based on every other hero that had ever been called upon, statted out like player characters that might show up in a pinch to help. He even had a genuine Deus ex Machina that he was ready to use to get the players out of a truly impossible jam if they found themselves in one. Not always, but a few times at least. Enough to get them to the point where they wouldn’t need it anymore. —– It was thirty minutes in, right in the middle of exposition from the Guardian NPC, when Xavier got his first message on the app. Matt/Chat - Chat’s going to wait until everyone breaks up and follow Ladybug stealthily. Xavier/GM - Starting party conflict on the first session? Not what I’d advise, but it’s your character. Go ahead and make your Stealth roll now. Matt/Chat - <photo> 17 Xavier/GM - Yeah, that beats everyone’s passive Perception easily. You’ll sneak off handily without anyone noticing. —– “Jeanette, Ladybug is grabbed from behind by an unknown assailant. Roll to resist the grapple.” “Geez, already? Okay, what did my assailant get for their grapple? How screwed am I?” Xavier pretended to roll a die while consulting the message from Matt. “19.” “Okay, difficult, but not undoable… Crap.” “What’d you get?” “Nat 1…” “Hah! I rip off her earrings and claim them for myself! The Wish is mine!” “Seriously Matt?! What the hell?!” “Because it’s payback time! Payback for every character of mine killed in these hellish

campaigns!” “Oh, come on! You’re not the only person whose had a character die at this table! <GM> runs some pretty challenging campaigns, but they’re always fair!” “What about the time he killed Allric the Allmighty in a single round of combat?” “Dude, you tried to Leroy Jenkins straight into melee with a 4th-level Wizard that had a CON penalty. Even at full health you had like 10 hp.” “14!” “Not much better, dude.” “Guys, it’s fine. I can handle this. Okay, Matt. Chat the Barbarian managed to get the earrings-” “Yeah, Ladybug screams bloody murder when he rips them out. Good luck getting out of this in one piece.” “The moment Rena hears Ladybug scream, she bolts for the sound.” “So does Carapace.” “Vesperia too.” “-and with their current locations and movement speeds, I assume you’re all using the Dash action?, you’ve got maybe one round to decide on your Wish before they’re all over you, so choose carefully. And be aware that I plan to grant whatever you wish for in the worst possible way, just as I would if any of the others pulled this.” “Rena screams ‘What the HELL, Chat?! We’re supposed to protect the Miraculous, not use them for our own selfish purposes! Didn’t you listen to the Guardian? Such actions always bring misfortune upon those who misuse the Miraculous!’” “Because I am Chat, avatar of Destruction and I WISH THIS WORLD NEVER EXISTED!” There was dead silence at the table. “Matt… What… just… WHAT?!” “Hah! You like that?! How does it feel now that the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?!” “What the hell is your problem, Matt?!” “My problem? MY problem?! Do you know how much time I’ve spent making characters for these shitty campaigns only to have them turned into paste in one session?!” “Because you made primary spellcasters and played every last one of them like a barbarian, charging in headfirst without thinking! All of us breathed a sigh of relief when you revealed that your character finally matched your playstyle!” “I HATE BARBARIANS! THEY’RE BORING! I SHOULD GET TO PLAY CHARACTERS THAT CAN AT LEAST CHUCK FIREBALLS!” “THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP RUNNING THEM FACE FIRST INTO ENEMY SWORDS!” “NONE OF YOU COULD EVER HANDLE THE FACT THE I MAKE MORE AWESOME CHARACTERS THAN ANY OF YOU, SO YOU JUST LET THIS DOUCHEBAG KILL THEM OFF SO YOU WOULDN’T GET OVERSHADOWED BY HOW AMAZING I AM! WELL NOW I KILLED SOMETHING YOU ALL WORKED HARD ON, SO SUCK IT! I’M DONE WITH ALL OF YOU FOREVER!” “MATT! HEY! GET BACK HERE YOU JERK! MATT!” “Crap, I think Olivia might actually kill him this time…” “It’s going to take all of us to stop her from getting arrested at least.” Xavier just watched numbly as the rest of the group ran out of his apartment. Over six months of work. Gone in less than an hour. He’d given so much to making sure this would work. He’d apologized to Matt at least twice for every character of his that had died to get him to come back. He’d agreed to demand after demand just to keep a familiar face on board, never dreaming he’d pull something like this. He’d nearly gotten fired from his job trying to rearrange his schedule to fit with everyone else’s. They’d somehow, miraculously, gotten the whole day with no other obligations among any of them and decided to make the first session a true marathon. They’d meet in the morning after breakfast and eat both lunch and dinner at the game table before calling it a night late in the evening. It was barely 10:00 in the morning and the whole campaign he’d slaved over for months was kaput. He never noticed the butterfly landing on his custom Miraculous-themed Game Master screen and being absorbed into it. “Game Master, I am Hawkmoth. Few people appreciate the kind of effort that goes into making something truly grand and memorable. I shall give you the power to bring your entire world to life and in return, I ask only for a few simple things.” This was wrong. Hawkmoth was the worst of the worst. The kind of person who would be at home among all the final bosses he’d ever made for his campaigns. Heartless, manipulative, cruel. “Not

enough? Ah, but what is a game without players? How would you like to have the Miraculous heroes themselves run your great campaign? Surely they would be far more appreciative than those ungrateful peons that left you alone with nothing but the broken remains of your efforts.” He knew all these things, but the allure of bringing the world he’d spent so much time on to life… What creator could ever turn down an offer like that? “I, the Game Master, accept… Hawkmoth.” “Excellent. And in exchange, you shall bring me one of two things: The Miraculous, or the identities of their wielders.” “No.” Hawkmoth was silent for a moment. “I beg your pardon?” “I said no. I am the Game Master. I make the world. I craft the challenges. I decide the rewards. But I do not do anything for anyone. If you want these things, get them yourself.” “If you refuse me, it shall be very unpleasant for you.” “No. As Game Master, I decide the limits of all powers within my realm. And I decide that you have none over me.” And with that, he unleashed his creation over all of Paris, drawing everyone and everything within into his sphere of influence. —– Ladybug blinked the spots (ha) out of her eyes as the flash of light died down and looked at herself. She didn’t remember transforming, but she was clearly in her spots. Except her red and black superhero uniform didn’t usually look like it was headed to a steampunk convention. Looking around, she tried to figure out what had happened and her eyes landed on a familiar belt and pants combo. Problem. Whoever this was, their groin was at eye level for her. She looked up. And up. To find a grinning Chat Noir, sans anything resembling a shirt and having put on at least a foot of height and apparently a hundred pounds of pure muscle, grinning down at her. “How’s the weather down there?” Chat Noir chuckled as he flexed his unfairly attractive muscleman physique. “I WILL END YOU!” the heroine snarled, already 100% done with whatever new insanity Hawkmoth had cooked up. Characters: Ladybug - Gnome Artificer (Master Tinkerer - Homebrew) Chat Noir - Human Barbarian (Path of the Beast) —– Vesperia had to admit, as Akuma attacks went, this was pretty dope. She was currently a halfling. A halfling! If it wasn’t for her fantasy ensemble being yellow and black, she’d have thought she stepped straight out of Lord of the Rings. Of course, fantasy setting or not, there were still things she’d have rather left back in the real world. Like racism. And stigma against mixed couples. Not directed at her, but rather at the two walking down the street next to her. “You know, people are staring…” she said as she craned her head to look at her companions. “Let them,” the Half-Elf Rena Rouge (who looked like a cross between a musician and a belly dancer) said from her perch atop the shoulders of the heavily armored (and surprisingly buff) Half-Orc Carapace. “They’re just jealous because their boyfriends can’t carry them everywhere.” Characters: Vesperia - Halfling Rogue (Scout) Rena Rouge - Half-Elf Bard (College of Glamour) Carapace - Half-Orc Fighter (Eldritch Knight) —– Ryuko blinked as she studied the apparent snake-man-thing before her who claimed to be Viperion. She lifted a hand to study it and found what appeared to be bronze scales covering every inch of her skin. She sniffed herself, smelling the sharp tang of ozone. What was she? And why did she appear to be wearing wooden armor? Characters: Ryuko - Dragonborn (bronze) Druid (Circle of Storms - Third Party) Viperion - Naga Sorcerer (Divination Magic - Homebrew) —– Polymouse giggled as her friends ran over her. Okay, she’d freaked out a little to find a swarm of mice (with hair like hers no less) crawling all over her surprisingly mouse-like body when she’d come to in the middle of some forest somewhere. But she’d gotten over it pretty quickly. It helped that her new friends were adorable. It might help more if she could figure out where she was. Or find another person. Characters: Polymouse - Kobold

(rodentlike) Ranger (Swarmkeeper - Reskinned) —– Purple Tigress sighed as she felt the hair (fur?) on the top of her head being shifted around and twitched her new catlike ears in mild annoyance. “Are you quite done?” “Almost!” Pigella’s cheerful voice answered. “Your fur is so comfy!” Tigress sighed. Of course Pigella would end up being a fairy, and having her normal cheerful enthusiasm cranked up to previously unimagined levels. “I love you dearly, but if you start shouting 'hey listen’ I will stick you in a bottle.” “Aw, I love you too! Hey, what’s that?” “I think it’s my character sheet?” Characters: Purple Tigress - Tabaxi Paladin (Oath of Glory) Pigella - Fairy Cleric (Order Domain - Reskinned) —– “According to my analysis, we have been placed into what appears to be a Dungeons and Dragons campaign under 5th edition rules,” Pegasus stated in a mechanical monotone. “I am apparently a Warforged Wizard using the School of Conjuration whose spells create portals to bridge dimensions and summon or banish my intended targets. You are what is known as a Simic Hybrid, with the class of Monk, following the Way of the Drunken Master.” “Aweshum,” King Monkey slurred, his generally human appearance clad in monk’s robes marred by his monkey-like hands and feet as well as the monkey tail swishing behind him. “Why do you keep slurring like that? According to my sensors, your gourd is filled with only water.” “Gotta keep up appearanshes!” King Monkey grinned as he continued faking drunkenness. Characters: Pegasus - Warforged Wizard (School of Conjuration - Reskinned) King Monkey - Simic Hybrid Monk (Way of the Drunken Master) —– Hawkmoth studied the dark red horns growing out of his head in the mirror. The change in appearance was disconcerting, but he felt a rush of power in this new form that he’d never felt before. “Hmm… perhaps I can work with this…” “Speak for yourself…” Mayura muttered off to the side, ruffling her peacock-like feathers in annoyance as she tried to glare at the beak on her own face. Characters: Hawkmoth - Tiefling Dark Lord, Warlock Patron, Contracted by Lila Rossi, Volpina, Queen Wasp, and many others. Mayura - Kenku Assistant to the Dark Lord, Creator of Monsters —– “Oh, come on!” A figure in a cyan and white hooded robe complained as they waved a similarly colored umbrella around angrily. “Everyone else gets to be part of this adventure, why can’t I join them?” “Because you’re too OP. You’d completely break everything and remove all challenge from the adventure.” “But sitting around is no fun at all!” “If you like, I can put you in the position of the main quest giver. Your job would be to direct them towards their enemies and means of becoming stronger.” “That’s it?! I’m on 'mysterious hooded figure’ duty? Boo! Why can’t I fight with them?!” “Because you’re too OP. But if you insist, I’ll allow some Deus ex Machina interventions.” “YES!” “Five.” “I’m sorry?” “I’ll allow five interventions at your discretion to aid them when they are in peril. Once you have come to their aid five times, I will allow no more meetings save to impart quest information.” “That’s it?” “Yes. Choose your interventions wisely.” “So… if I manage to save one for when they fight Hawmoth and Mayura in the final battle…?” “Then I would allow you to join them of course.” “Score!” Characters: Bunnyx: Mysterious Hooded Figure, Deus-ex-Machina (5) Game Master: Akuma Lord of the Miraculous Campaign —– Addendum When the Game Master is finally purified and the damage reversed, it turns out that he took the effort to trap all of Paris in a temporal stasis bubble so that no matter how long passed inside no more than a few moments passed outside. Meaning that after what seemed like months in the bubble, it’s basically less than a minute after he was akumatized when everything is put back. All his friends, minus Matt, come back in bringing a new person named Zack that they vetted themselves to take Matt’s place in case he pulled something like what he did. And while he

has a similar playstyle to Matt, he’s savvy enough to know what kind of characters that is suited for and he loves playing barbarians. They all sit back down and restart the game they were all looking forward to.

—-

oh wow- that’s- wow. good job dude, seems like you worked on this a lot. Next time You should post this on your own account though, as this isn’t getting tagged or anything. Thank you though, you did a good job with this.

#submission

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wri0thesley · 4 years

Text

Forever- Vampire!Lisa Lisa x Fem!Reader (Kinktober Day #16: Biting)

NSFW. 18+ ONLY. AFAB reader. Fem pronouns. Vampire Lisa Lisa, biting, blood, possible dub-con/hypnosis (your mileage may vary depending on how you read it - i think of this all as entirely consensual).

You are in search of the Lady of the Island.

The man steering the boat had not wanted to take you out to Air Supplena Island. He had been most insistent of the fact that the moment your feet touched solid ground on the island, he would be turning back - his mouth had set in a grim line, his eyes shadowed.

“I ain’t gonna be responsible for her findin’ me trespassing on her land,” he’d said. “N’ if you ask me, you’re a damn fool to be goin’ no matter what.”

You had still tipped him, of course. He had been the only man with a boat who’d been willing to even make the trip, as little time as he would spend on Air Supplena Island’s shore notwithstanding. You had sat in his boat with your hands folded in your lap and your posture ramrod-straight, anxiety gnawing through to your bones; but you would not rest. You would not turn back. You had followed the legends and the whispers of who the lady of the island was for too long and tried too hard to waste all of your hard work because your fear held you back at the last moment.

You step off his boat and onto the island proper with your purse significantly lighter and evening filtering out the last vestiges of the day’s sunlight. You turn to thank the man who brought you here, feeling unsteady and afraid - to see that he has turned around with a second glance at you.

He thinks you are mad, and perhaps you are.

You are slow as you approach the buildings themselves, aware that night is falling all around you. All of this, from one brief encounter in a warm speakeasy and a beautiful woman at your side?

She had kissed you, once, and you had tasted danger on her lips and felt it when her hands had caressed the shape of you in your ugly dress. The entirety of the world had seemed to stop - everything had become unimportant to you, except her lips and the way her eyes seemed to shift ruby tones in the low candlelight. You had been dragged here by the young lady you had been hired to be the ladies companion of; whilst her parents had clearly thought you’d be a good influence on her, they had also not reckoned on the wild streak in her nature.

So you had been dragged along to all kinds of seedy underground places she should not have known about. You had always stayed in the background, watched, tried to make sure she did not get into too much trouble, waiting to intervene just in case she overstepped that small boundary. But it had been in a smoky underground cavern in Paris (“The fashion capital of the world!” Your charge and companion had told you. “You simply must wear something more fetching than that old thing.” You had not acquiesced.) that had changed you forever.

“Come find me,” she’d breathed against your neck, and you had felt something sharp scratch briefly across the join where your neck and shoulder met. “You could be so much more than this. I’ll show you.”

And she had gone, and you had not been able to shake her lips from your mind for months.

Your companion had noticed but thought it prudent not to say anything; even in the free-spirited nineteen thirties, she was not quite ready to accept that she had seen your eyes glaze and your mouth part for another woman. But she had noticed your distraction; that you were less hard on her for going against her parent’s wishes, that you were wistful and maudlin and daydreaming about the night - eventually, she had taken pity on you and come to you to relieve you of your service with an early pay packet of far more than you’d expected.

“I went back,” she said, off-handedly, though her shoulders were tense. “To that seedy little place in Paris. They told me her name was Lisa Lisa - the lady of yours. They called her the Lady of the Island, though I don’t know which one. She’s Italian, apparently - or she makes her home there, now. Don’t ask me anything else. I don’t know it.”

You’d looked at her, slowly, some of your lethargy fading away as you’d felt a hum beneath your skin of promise.

“Thank you,” you’d said - and you’d left the next day for Italy.

It had not been easy. Though your purse was heavy with your payment for a year spent travelling Europe, you were aware that you were plain and simple and prime victim material for shoplifters and men of opportunity. You had stayed in lodgings that were out of the way, perhaps shoddier than what you could and should have afforded, giving them all the same story; you were in search of an older brother who had ran away and had last been seen in the company of a lady that he called the ‘Lady of the Island’.

You did not get your first bite until you had found yourself in Venice, in a small art shop by a canal. The piece itself was of an island, all gothic cathedral imagery and towering columns; you’d been looking at it, and the proprietor and artist had come to stand beside you.

“That’s Air Supplena Island,” he had said to you, obviously able to tell that you were not a local. “They say that the Lady of the Island lives there and slaughters anyone who comes close.” He had shrugged broad shoulders. “I don’t believe it myself, but people will cling to their stories, won’t they?”

You’d beseeched him to tell you more, trotting out that tired old story - that you had become tired of telling, as weeks had grown into months - and his nose had wrinkled, brows drawn down.

“Oh, the Lady of the Island isn’t interested in men,” he’d said, and the stress he’d put on the last word had convinced you that you were on the right track. You had done your best to tamp down enthusiasm as you’d asked and probed about Air Supplena Island - and as you left, you hid your smile behind your hand as you’d bid the man a good night.

You had wanted to employ somebody to take you to the Island as soon as you could, but you had done your best to be sensible. You asked around a little more, probing for information about this Lady - having your suspicions of her legend confirmed.

“They say that she bathes in the blood of virgins,” one older woman had told you. “They say that she will drink a man dry if he so much as breathes in her presence,” - another. “They say that the buildings on her land are made of bones and teeth.”

They confirm what you had thought; that the woman you met in the smoky jazz and the press of bodies is something more than human. The idea should fill you with fear. You should have gotten as far away from Italy as you could; instead, the thought of her inhumanity sets heat aflame between your thighs and makes your heart hammer in your chest.

If she kills you, you think, you will die happy. At least you won’t dream about her any more - the silky sweep of her hair, the curve of her lips, pinpricks sliding into the soft flesh of your thighs. Your shoes sound very loud on the stone, as shadows begin to claim the island entirely. You continue to walk.

You imagine you hear whispers, rustling, the sound of shadows converging and waiting to be told to jump upon you and consume you entirely - still, you walk. And when the foreboding wooden doors that you think give entrance to the vast majority of the building that dominates Air Supplena Island open as if by unseen forces, you do not question yourself - you walk forward, into the entrance hall.

“I thought you’d come.”

The voice is amused. It is low, and deep - shivering with suggestion in every syllable. You recognise it as the same voice that has haunted your dreams since the first time you heard it. You stop where you are, transfixed as she seems to melt from the shadows, just as beautiful and statuesque as you remember. Her skin seems to shimmer like mother of pearl in the moonlight; her lips are redder than blood, her eyes dark and beautiful. She looks at you and smiles, and you see the faintest flash of sharp eye teeth - and immediately, a rush of confusing feelings tumblr all around inside you.

She’s beautiful. She’s terrifying. You know the rumours are true, from her easy stance and her elegance and how she looks at you like a cat stalking a canary - but you cannot find it in yourself to be afraid. Instead, you feel your thighs slick with desire and your body ache to be touched. If she wished to bathe in your blood . . . you think you would open your veins for her. All she need do is ask.

She steps towards you like a leopard hunting her prey, though you have no intention of running anywhere. Her hips move seductively with each step, her eyes not moving from you for a moment - you take in a deep, shuddering breath as she gets closer and closer to you, waiting for her to pounce. You imagine you’ll see your own neck snap as if from very far away - you wonder if the man who brought you here on his boat is even now laughing at your terrible fate.

“Oh,” she breathes, as she gets closer. “Look at you. You found me all on your own, hmm? I knew that you’d be a perfect choice.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask her, softly. She stops in front of you, raising a hand to your face - her thumb ghosts your cheekbone, traces the lines of your lips, and all you can do is let her. Everywhere she touches you feel trails of fire spring up in her wake, your body singing in a way that you don’t think it ever has.

“If I were going to do that, dear heart,” she whispers, “you would have been dead before you step foot on my island.”

You swallow as she tips your face upwards, studying you in the pale moonlight. You wonder if you’re pleasing to her - the thought makes you feel curiously hot and bothered. You have never put much stock in your appearance, but if it has helped to win her attentions . . . surely you cannot be that unfortunate to look upon?

She laughs as if she can read your mind.

“You’re extremely pleasing,” she says - and then, she kisses you.

Lisa Lisa - she gives you her name like a secret, and you whisper it against the cool marble of her collarbone, marvelling at how it rolls around in your mouth - has you in her chambers in what feels like moments, though you know it must be longer. Her fingers dance over your skin, working open the buttons and hooks of your plain dress - when it falls from your body, you want to pull yourself in and shy away, but she is above you on the bed and she sighs against you, her breath cool.

“Look at you, little flower,” she murmurs. “You’re beautiful. Ripe for the plucking.”

Her nails scratch sharp across your sides as she caresses the curve and dip of your hips and waist. Her hands take hold of your breasts, testing their warmth and weight, squeezing them so that your back arches and a soft noise of surprise escapes you. She bends her head and the sheet of her hair falls across your skin, a silky sweep that has goosebumps rising along your newly bared flesh.

Her mouth fastens about one nipple, her tongue teasing the nubs to hardness. You have only ever touched yourself under sacrosanct cover of darkness, chaste and afraid - but Lisa Lisa is not at all shamed by how she enjoys your body. She holds you as if it’s perfectly natural to do so, and though you feel exposed, you also feel . . . beautiful. Like something precious to be held against her and kissed and stroked.

“You’ll do beautifully,” she whispers, moving her mouth from your breast to kiss up your collarbones, to trace the fluttering pulse point in your neck. She traces your jawline with her lips, up to your ear - you gasp as she nips at your earlobe. “Oh, you were wasted anywhere but by my side.”

“What will you do to me?” You ask her, breathlessly, as she rears up onto her knees and reaches to tug off her own clothes. You are transfixed by her figure, slowly revealed to you beneath the fine fabrics she’s wearing. She’s like a Greek statue - marble, untouchable, unmarked. Only . . . she takes your hands, brings them to her hips, lets you feel how smooth and cool and soft she is.

“Nothing you won’t like,” she says - and as she dives back down to kiss you again with the hunger of someone who’s been starved for a week, you do not doubt her.

As she kisses you, nipping with her blunt front teeth at your lower lip, her hands urge your thighs apart. You feel ashamed to spread them - especially as you hear the wet sounds of them parting - but she breaks the kiss to inhale deeply.

“I forget, that mortals are so warm,” she says, as one of her hands slides up your inner thigh, nails teasing at the sensitive skin. “You’re boiling to the touch, my darling. You’re hot and warm and soaking wet - did you know?” The last words are conversational, her middle finger swiping through your damp slit, briefly parting your labia lips as your hips arch and a whimper falls unbidden from your lips.

“I haven’t done this before . . .” You say, your cheeks uncomfortably warm - and Lisa Lisa laughs, a rich, deep noise that feels like black silk running down your spine.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she tells you. “I’ve done this many times - and you’ll have plenty of time to learn it too. For now . . . relax, dearest. Lay back on the bed. Let me take care of you.”

There’s a sharp edge to the words; even as you let yourself relax into the soft coverlets beneath you, you feel like she is asking for permission for more than she lets on. Still - you cannot think, at this moment, what you would deny her. Not as she spreads your thighs even wider, those same nails scratching at your skin so your spine prickles, her fingertips leaving blazing trails despite how cool they feel against you.

She makes sweet, soft noises - like placating a baby animal - as your thighs jump as she parts the lips of your sex, exposing those slickened folds to the chill of the air.

“Look at you,” she says, enthralled. “Oh, I have picked beautifully--”

You do not know what she means, when she speaks of choosing you. But her fingers are stroking your folds, now - teasing at your clit and your entrance, making your entire body sing, and you cannot concentrate on anything but how that feels and the way that the fabric beneath your fingers bunches up as you fist hands into sheets.

You are sensitive. Your body reacts with shivers and shudders; little electrical currents going straight from the place between your legs to every other part of you, sending signals of white-hot pleasure to your brain. As she slides one elegant finger inside you and your sex clamps tightly about her, she laughs a noise of soft amusement.

“We’ll train you to take more, my dear,” she says, and she pumps the lone finger in and out of you, rubbing against sensitive patches inside of you that have your hips wriggling. You’re aware that you are making little noises - whimpering and moaning, gasping out noises intended to be words. Her lips are a dark red curve in the white of her face. Her thumb swipes across your clit, rolling the bud beneath the pad, toying with the swollen little bundle until you whine.

“You’ll take another,” she says, softly, and you nod - a sob bubbles in your throat at the brief stretch of two, scissoring you open and wider for her - but it quickly devolves into a groan as your hips cant forwards towards her, urging her to be more thorough in how she’s thrusting the fingers and and out of you. She makes a little chastising noise, clicking her tongue - but you can hear the pleasure in her tone as she murmurs. “Now, now. One thing at a time.”

It’s good. It’s so good. The way her thumb grinds against your clit, the way that her fingers rub against those sweet spots inside of you, the feeling of fullness and the sweep of her hair and the knowledge of who it is and what she is that’s making you feel like this . . . Your body seems to seize up, teetering on the edge of something - and, abruptly, fingers are pulled out of you and the pressure on your clit ceases. You whimper out a noise of confusion and distress; that you were so close to something wonderful, and had it torn away--

“One more thing, before I let you come,” Lisa Lisa says, her lips that perfect red curve again. “Creatures like me do not do things for free, you see.”

“I’ll do it,” you say, feverishly - her index finger lazily strokes your folds, toying with your clit in a way that makes you shudder and your head feel cloudy and strange. “Wh-whatever it is . . .”

Lisa Lisa leans down, kissing the mound of your sex. Your back arches as her tongue flicks out, briefly darting to taste you. She makes a noise of sheer pleasure at the wetness on her tongue that intensifies the ache inside of you and makes you feel as if a curtain is descending all over your judgement. Slowly, she laps at you again - her tongue rolling your clit luxuriously, slow rocks of pleasure overwhelming you.

“You’d agree before hearing my terms?” She says, though she does not sound at all surprised - if anything, her tone is pleased. “You’d trust me so completely, even knowing what I am?”

She does not tell you what she is. She hasn’t - you have known since far before you stepped foot onto her island, and perhaps even before you’d made it to Italy. She knows that you know.

“You can have my blood,” you tell her, wildly, without thinking. “Just, please--”

She pulls back again. Her body moves over you like a cat once more, so that her face is close to yours and her cool breath brushes your cheek. Her breasts press against your own, one marble-smooth thigh between your own legs.

“I want more than blood from you,” she says. “I want you to stay with me, here. Forever.” Her hands trace your hips, cold as she grasps you. “You deserve more than a boring little life and a boring little husband. I can make you a Goddess, my darling. I can make you feared and loved and reviled; I can make you like me. I can give you a life by my side.” She lowers her mouth, pressing her lips to your cheek. Your entire body feels like stone.

“You already knew what I wanted from you, didn’t you, my clever girl?” Hands sliding over your thighs, her body moving. Your legs spread wider, urging her hand and her fingers back between them. She laughs, like a bell tolling. “You’ve known since you walked into my home.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes. To all of it.”

(You have known, this whole time - since those first words and the promise you were made for better things than this. It had taken her touching you and feeling you and driving you to the brink of release to see it clearly, but now you can - you can see you by her side for eternity.)

“My good girl,” she breathes - and, as her fingers dive inside you again, three pressing against the walls of your sex and clenching around her, her thumb grinds back into your clit. Her fangs slide into your throat.

Both of them feel like fireworks in entirely different ways - low between your thighs, like a man diving into the sea, your body all flaming hot wetness as a tidal wave of heat and need crash over you. In your throat, an explosion of colours and sounds as your head is tipped back and you feel the wetness and heat of your own blood cascade down your body. The rhythmic sucking of Lisa Lisa’s lips against you coupled with the rhythmic way she rocks her fingers into you.

You let your eyes close, the sensations wash over you. It’s the first of many, she said. The first day of the rest of your life.

The two of you have an eternity now, after all.

#writing #kinktober collection #lisa lisa #not sfw #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjba #blood for ts #vampires #biting #dub con for ts #hypnosis for ts

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flightfoot · 3 years

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Scarlet Fever Analysis 2: Salt Fighting

AO3

Note: this contains spoilers for all of Scarlet Fever

Scarlet Fever addresses and shuts down salt in many ways, showing where it might have a point, but fighting back when that point is taken too far.

This is usually done through two particular mouthpieces - Master Fu and Princess Justice, though other characters do bring up salt arguments and scenarios as well.

Master Fu’s main problems stem from not trusting Adrien enough, from having so little faith in him, treating him like an afterthought, a sidekick. He largely represents the Adrien salters who think he’s incompetent and unworthy of attention, that he’s useless without Ladybug and only exists to be her bodyguard - and that since that’s his role, he deserves no accolades for fulfilling it.

From the beginning, Master Fu has some misgivings about Adrien being Paris’s main protector, without Marinette around to help.

Tikki floated forward to respond but Master Fu held out his palm to stop her. "The last time you used the Ladybug Miraculous you had her help!"

Adrien looked down. "I know... That's why we need her back." He looked up in determination as he put on the earrings. "If I had so much trouble with them then we can't just choose anyone else and we can't wait." (Chapter 2)

Master Fu is doubtful here that Adrien’s up to the task, since he wasn’t quite up to it last time. Which… fair. Adrien struggled in Reflekdoll, with Marinette ultimately telling him how to use his Lucky Charm.

But Adrien’s counterargument is also important. It shifts the conversation from the implication that “Adrien is incompetent as Ladybug” to “Marinette is the best at being Ladybug, but failing that, Adrien is the second best choice since he has some experience as Ladybug and a lot as a Miraculous Wielder more generally”.

Credit to Master Fu, he doesn’t argue with Adrien on this front, doesn’t try to stop him. Adrien IS the best option available to wield the Ladybug Miraculous.

There’s some salt about Adrien being dumb and unable to use the Ladybug effectively, but Scarlet Fever shuts that down. Yes, it’s not as natural a fit for Adrien as it is for Marinette, but that’s because of how uniquely suited Marinette is for the Ladybug, not because Adrien is especially bad at using it - and when push comes to shove, he can use it very effectively.

That’s only the beginning of Master Fu’s doubt in Adrien and skepticism of his choices, however. He isn’t especially happy when Adrien brings Sabine back to their base.

"He also said you were the one to ask about Marinette," Sabine continued.

Master Fu stumbled in shock and turned his head from Sabine to Adrien and back again. "The situation is... complicated."

"She deserves to know, Master," Adrien insisted, he'd wrapped the tarp around himself like a shawl, revealing his eyes but keeping his face covered.

"It is not the time!" Master Fu chastised. "With Papillon Écarlate gaining strength we must focus on- Are you listening to me?" (Chapter 3)

This passage parallels one of the arguments about Syren, one of the conflicts. In that episode, there was an undertone of Adrien having the right to know some of the Miraculous-related stuff, enough to know what was going on with Ladybug at least, and Fu delaying because it supposedly wasn’t the right time. It’s fitting to see that argument rear up again, especially since Adrien’s “right to know” stuff comes up so often, with how he’s left out of the loop so much and how that hurts.

Fu’s resistant to trusting Adrien’s instincts in general, not even wanting to let him decide who to give a Miraculous to, wanting to wait until Ladybug’s freed so SHE can decide. It takes an outside authority - the Lucky Charm - to persuade Fu, rather than having some faith in Adrien’s choices.

"We can still free Ladybug," Master Fu insisted. "Then she can decide who to bestow with a Miraculous."

Adrien shook his head. "My Lucky Charm said I needed Kagami."

"... The Lucky Charm said to give Kagami the Black Cat?"

"... Yes! I don't know if it's to bring My Lady back to us or some other reason but I know that we need Kagami! And I know I need to hurry!"

Master Fu stared at his Chosen intently. "If that is our best course of action," he conceded. (Chapter 3)

The complete reliance on Marinette to fulfill the auxiliary duties of a Miraculous Wielder, the unwillingness to consider that Adrien may also be able to perform some of the same roles well, like choosing wielders, is something I’ve seen crop up in salt repeatedly.

It comes to a head with Sabine and Fu arguing, Fu claiming that Adrien isn’t good enough while Sabine counters, defending Adrien.

"I had to train Marinette! I could not stop simply to scold Chat Noir every time he erred! Adrien has made too many mistakes!"

"Isn't it a teacher's job to correct his students? Maybe you should have trained Adrien too instead of expecting my daughter to do everything herself!" Sabine challenged.

"It was too dangerous!" Master Fu retorted. "Marinette proved herself! I couldn't let Adrien in when he did not earn it!

Sabine stared at this man older than her father and realized he knew nothing of adolescents. "... Trading his wellbeing for my daughter's may not make him trustworthy in your eyes," she stressed. "But it does in mine." (Chapter 6)

One of the salt arguments I’ve heard is that Adrien hasn’t “proven” himself worthy of having more information, more of a role in the process, of having the same sort of information and authority as Marinette. Him just fulfilling his role as a superhero, protecting Paris and protecting Ladybug so she can restore everything, even at the cost of his own life, isn’t seen as enough (and is sometimes even seen as him manipulating her somehow).

But Sabine’s the voice of reason, fighting back. She doesn’t have the same sort of unreasonable, unmanageable expectations that Fu does - if she did Marinette would probably be joining Adrien in the “awful parent” club.

Instead, she holds Adrien to the same sort of standard that she would Marinette. He’s trying to help, has sacrificed himself again and again for Marinette’s sake, for Paris’s sake. He is a Hero of Paris. That’s all he needs to be. He’s more than proved his trustworthiness, shown that he should be given the same sort of respect that Marinette gets.

Princess Justice is not so easily reasoned with.

She represents a specific character in saltfics, the most important one by design - the one the world’s warped around.

Saltinette.

It’s pretty apparent in her accusations against the heroes, in the accusations against others more generally.

"What of Papillon's Judgment!" Maneki-neko demanded as they sped towards the Seine. She held tight to the struggling villain as she attempted to get through to Marinette. "Will you absolve him of his crimes against Paris! Against your friends!"

"What friends!?" Princess Justice roared. She opened her bag and spun. The dust engulfed them, entering Kagami's eyes and distracting her long enough for the villain to break free.

Princess Justice struck at the hero, Maneki-neko barely deflecting her attacks. Every sentence punctuated by the crack of her whip. "They abandoned me! They chose that liar over me! They will all suffer like I have! They will all feel my pain! Every! Last! ONE!" (Chapter 5)

Saltfics frequently exaggerate the “sins” of Marinette’s friends and family, from merely having some doubt in her (based on both accusations and actual evidence, albeit planted evidence) into actively shunning her - something that doesn’t happen in the show for more than a few minutes at best, and which Alya doesn’t even entertain.

But the part that’s most telling? Her desire to inflict pain on them in return. Not merely to persuade them that Lila’s wrong, but to actively want them to suffer for the impertinence of being conned.

The revenge plot is a staple of saltfics, often focusing on punishing the people Lila fooled even above punishing Lila. On inflicting pain on the people who “failed” Marinette when they should have believed her and followed what she said unquestioningly, no matter what evidence or accusations were thrown her way, without a hint of doubt or consideration for Lila’s words.

Marinette notably does NOT do this. Even in Silencer she wants justice because of Bob stealing her design and Kitty Section’s music, but emphatically does NOT pursue revenge, trying to get Silencer to back down because anything he did to Bob WOULD be vengeance, not justice. She even tells Chat as much when he suggests letting Silencer MAKE Bob confess the truth.

If she isn’t willing to let that happen to Bob, someone who did indeed knowingly wrong her and her friends without remorse, she CERTAINLY wouldn’t want to inflict vengeance on people whose main crime was being tricked, something that Mister Bug calls Princess Justice out on.

"You've always been forgiving!" Mister Bug reminded her desperately. "Always the one to point out what's unjust! You said that we should strive for Justice not Revenge! This! All of this! Is Revenge!" (Chapter 5)

Of course, she isn’t exactly in a headspace where she’s able to listen to him.

Instead she fights him, accusing him of common salt complaints against him.

"Chat Noir!" She slammed them into the side of a building, gratified to hear his cries. "You are accused!"

Adrien felt his heart pounding in fear. He knew what the verdict would be.

"Accused of being Unworthy!"

"Plagg disagrees." The throbbing impact of the bench on his head hurt less than the impact of her words on his heart. (Chapter 5)

Adrien frequently has the Black Cat Miraculous taken from him in saltfics for one reason or another, declared unworthy of possessing it. Canonically of course none of the heroes would even consider that (except Adrien himself, funnily enough), and the one whose opinion on his “worthiness” matters most - Plagg - has declared Adrien to be the best Chat Noir he ever had, both thinking he’s a good hero AND also caring about him deeply, helping to cheer him up whenever Adrien’s hurt.

"Accused of holding Ladybug back!" She ground him on the underside of a bridge as they flew past.

His chest tightened and he forced air into his lungs. The friction of stones on his back burned less than her barbs. "First I've heard of it." (Chapter 5)

Chat Noir’s also accused of being useless a lot, of Ladybug being better off without him. Something that has been shown to not be the case time and time again. Furthermore she’d never WANT to be without him - that was shown in the NY special. That she didn’t know she could even fight without him by her side.

"Accused of treating the lives of Paris like some game!"

His eyes widened. "Never!" (Chapter 5)

This salt mostly stems from Syren, though it crops up more generally with Chat Noir cracking jokes during akuma battles. But while he jokes or gets upset, it never distracts him from fighting the akuma for long, if at all. Plus, it’s a way of coping with the situation. Getting too bogged down and not having any fun along the way can lead to MORE mistakes, as Gamer 2.0 demonstrated.

"Accused of getting in her way! Of always expecting her to save you without regard for how getting brainwashed affects her!" She ricocheted between two trees before she had to evade his companions.

"I was protecting you!" He jerked them away from the lamppost she was about to crush his back against. "You think I want to fight you!? I hate being brainwashed! I'm terrified of it!" (Chapter 5)

Yep, this is, for some reason, an actual salt accusation towards Chat to show how he’s a horrible person: that he gets hurt and brainwashed for her sake too often and doesn’t think about how she feels about needing to save him, making him a horrible person.

"I had to ask you to help me before you did anything!" Princess Justice launched herself at him with a kick.

"... What?" Mister Bug was snapped out of his thoughts by her words. He grabbed her foot and used her momentum to spin her away, head over heel.

She righted herself, the butterfly mark flaring back up, and charged again. "Right before Damocles expelled me, you said nothing until I asked you to!"

He used his forearms to block her strikes as a familiar rage started burning through his veins. "You're... angry because I helped you? When you asked for it!?" He ducked under her blow and brought his fist into an uppercut.

"I shouldn't have to ask!" She barely twisted out of the way in time as she failed in her attempt to knee him in the face. "You are Unworthy!" Princess Justice accused. (Chapter 9)

Yep, this is an actual accusation that’s thrown at Adrien for the events of “Ladybug”; that after Marinette opens the locker and Lila’s necklace falls out, he processes for a few seconds and intervenes once Marinette asks him for help. It takes 15 seconds from the time Lila picks the necklace up to Adrien intervening (with most of that time taken up by Marinette talking), but a quarter of a minute is an unforgivable delay for salters.

As for not helping until she asked for it (though Adrien didn’t have much of a window in which to intervene before she requested assistance)... that’s not always a bad thing. It’s not what MARINETTE does, but that doesn’t always work out. Often it IS a good idea to wait until someone gives an indication that they want the help before intervening, because that intervention may end up only making things worse. Adrien knows that well enough when it comes to his father - Nino wasn’t able to persuade him to allow Adrien to have a birthday party, and was subsequently barred from the house as a “bad influence”. Worse may have happened if he pushed further, ESPECIALLY to Adrien, whom Gabriel has authority to punish.

Adrien can only take so much of this, so much of being slandered, of having every potential fault magnified a thousandfold while his own feelings and views of the situations are completely disregarded before he SNAPS.

"I was betrayed!" She swung a right hook at him. "My whole world crashed down around me!" And a left. "Who are you to Judge me, oh Chat Blanc!" The villain sneered.

And Mister Bug's control snapped.

"So sorry grieving over my dead mother isn't good enough to get AKUMATIZED OVER!" (Chapter 9)

Marinette has issues that she’s dealing with, emotional turmoil that she’s going through. But so do others, ESPECIALLY Adrien. She’s not the only one whose feelings matter.

“I forgot! Marinette is the only one whose burdens count!" He stopped suddenly and yanked on his yo-yo.

"What would you know about it!?" She copied him and jerked her whip towards her, the tangled cords beginning to pull free.

"They kept touching ME!" His disgust and shame roared through him and their weapons separated with a snap.

"Then you should have said something instead of letting them walk all over you!" She lashed out with her whip, intending to put an end to this. (Chapter 9)

Adrien’s sneered at for being a spineless doormat, for “letting” people touch him when he’s very clearly trying to get away without just outright telling them to back off. It is something that he needs to work on, but it’s certainly not something to BLAME him for. Especially since it’s doubtful that making a fuss about that sort of thing would’ve been well-received in most of his life. His father would be unlikely to take it well if he objected to a photoshoot on those grounds, for instance.

But he’s not the only one who needs to learn when to confess that something bad has happened to them.

"You're one to talk!" He deflected every strike with his yo-yo, mirrored her every move.

"You're the one who told me not to SAY anything!" Her whip came a hairsbreadth from his ear.

"You never said she threatened you!" His yo-yo barely grazed her bag.

"What difference does it make!?" She charged at him.

"It makes all the difference!" He rose to meet her. (Chapter 9)

This is a key point of contention in a lot of the Chameleon salt that’s directed at Adrien. Often he’s blamed for his advice to Marinette not to continue going after Lila, that it won’t help anything. That so long as he and Marinette knew she was lying, it didn’t really matter.

But that advice was based on the premise that Lila wasn’t an active threat, a danger. That it was merely galling to see her lying, but that she wasn’t causing any active harm by doing so. And while it was theorized that her lies about her status may lead to her making false promises to people, causing them to forgo real opportunities in pursuit of a lie, by the end of season 3 that does not appear to be the case.

Her actively threatening Marinette changes things. If she didn’t pose an actual danger, then it would be irritating to have to listen to her lie, but it doesn’t actually change anything. But with her desire to isolate Marinette? That’s different. Just leaving her be under those circumstances leaves Marinette in peril.

But Adrien DID NOT KNOW ABOUT THAT, and that is not his fault. He could only make decisions and recommendations off of information he possesses. He is not to blame for not being psychic.

Marinette would NOT blame Adrien for these things. Would not try to inflict pain on her friends.

Princess Justice is not Marinette.

Saltinette is not Marinette.

Something that Adrien realizes.

Adrien looked at Princess Justice. Really looked at her. The sneer of her lips, the sadistic gleam in her eyes, the ferocity of her advance. This... This was not Marinette.

The anger made way as Adrien's determination and love rose to merge with it. He broke through her assault and zipped away. The villain giving chase.

Princess Justice was all pain and rage and desire.

The villains on the ground took notice of their approach.

But Marinette was not defined by these things.

Glaciator fired a barrage of ice cream as he moved too close.

Marinette was joy and compassion and longing.(Chapter 9)

Marinette can have negative emotions and make bad decisions like anyone else. But fundamentally she is kind and caring, brings light to those around her, makes their lives better. She doesn’t try to make them miserable and beat every ounce of happiness out of their existence. She values people besides herself, besides what they can do for her, and cares about what they think and feel.

And SHE truly cares about justice.

Princess Justice does not deserve the name. Although she declares herself just, serves as judge, jury, and executioner, she does not keep herself to the standard she holds others too.

Kagami's tail stiffened. "Liar!" Maneki-neko let the villain's whip wrap around her staff and yanked her in. "You're a liar!" Her fist connected with the akumatized supervillain.

Throwing her own punch Princess Justice's eyes narrowed. "Justice doesn't lie!"

Stumbling back, Maneki-neko threw herself forward. "You're not Justice!" She tackled the villain, and they went over the edge of the roof. "You're immune to your own dust! You've been lying since the beginning!" (Chapter 12)

It’s poetic really. For the representation of Saltinette to be an evilized Marinette, one who rains down judgement on others but protects herself from being judged similarly, not even realizing that she’s doing it. Saltinette isn’t Marinette. She’s a twisted version, bereft of reason and her best qualities.

If Saltinette was judging herself the way she judges everyone else? She would be even more furious at Marinette for not doing more to take Lila down, since she knows she’s an active threat and is well-positioned to let people know that she’s lying about being her friend, than she is at Adrien. There would probably be a host of other things she’d judge herself for as well, but what exactly would depend on what space Saltinette occupied in that dynamic. For the only thing that matters to Saltinette is whether something or someone benefits her or whether they cause her any difficulty, nothing else.

Indignation. Princess Justice whirled to face him as her blue eyes narrowed. "You'd turn against me, too? Just like everyone else!? You all turned against me!"

Righteous Fury rumbled in displeasure at its master's agitation, exoskeleton glowing faintly under their feet.

"Disagreeing with you doesn't mean I've turned against you, my Lady," Adrien reasoned. (Chapter 13)

This is key. It’s possible to have fics, to have circumstances where Marinette conflicts with Adrien, Alya, or many others, without anyone being treated as being a horrible person. Sometimes people just disagree, sometimes for good reasons, due to perspective, mindset, or differences in knowledge, for instance. It doesn’t always mean they’ve turned against the other person.

Approaching cautiously, Roi Bug kept a hand close to his yo-yo in case she tried to attack him in earnest. "Revenge isn't Justice. You know that. Remember?"

"... I do." She looked down as another building was hit. "I remember letting the Guilty hurt the Innocent! Letting people who have never shown an ounce of remorse get away scot-free! Showing mercy to people who don't deserve it! Who haven't earned it!" Her gaze turned to him with frustration and anger in her eyes. "That is what I remember!"

He let her rage wash past him. "Mercy is never earned. That's why it's Mercy. Because you don't deserve it. Forgiveness-"

Princess Justice laughed. "Oh, forgiveness! You're really good at that, aren't you? But I'm done forgiving! From now on everyone gets exactly. What. They. Deserve!"

Temper flaring, Adrien shot his hand out toward a girl barely younger than them as she floated past. Face frozen mid-scream. Dark glow proclaiming: Self-righteous. "Is this what they deserve!?"

No, yes, no, yes, no- "Silence!" Princess Justice's whip flew at him again. This time Roi Bug whirled his yo-yo as a shield to deflect it. (Chapter 13)

Forgiveness and mercy can go too far. That is true. But there’s a reason they exist, why they’re generally considered good. Punishment can go too far, can cause more harm than good, especially when taken to insane extremes for minor slights, as Princess Justice and Saltinette do. A LOT of Disproportionate Retribution gets thrown around.

And if merely causing someone some strife was worthy of insane punishment? Few people would pass. Marinette among them.

"I've never harmed an Innocent person in my life!" She slashed her whip in a wide arc.

Bringing out the Monkey's staff and the baseball bat Lucky Charm, he used both weapons to deflect her attack. "Of course, you have! You're human aren't you!?"

"They were all Guilty!" She insisted, agitation causing the sentimonster to rumble as she struck. "They all deserved it!"

Adrien's eyes narrowed. "Did Luka 'deserve' it?"

Flinching, her whip missed its target.

"Or Kagami?" He pressed. "Did she 'deserve' the way you treated her?"

Regret, determination, shame.

"She should know what she's done to you," he whispered.

"... She does."

"No- I- Quiet! Be quiet!" She held her head between her hands as a drum pounded in her skull. "Justice! I am Justice!" (Chapter 13)

Marinette’s inflicted pain on others who have not done something to earn it, Kagami being one of the chief examples, what with her actions towards her in Animaestro and Ikari Gozen. But while what Marinette did those times were WRONG, they do not define her as a person, and do not justify an insane level of disproportionate retribution against her, do not justify writing Marinette off as a human being.

That same courtesy should apply to others as well.

Marinette is different from Princess Justice, from Saltinette, something she aptly demonstrates when she talks to Adrien after being deakumatized.

I-I said some... terrible things to you and I..." Marinette curled her arms around herself. "I didn't mean it." (Chapter 14)

Marinette also fights back against the accusations Princess Justice made, things that Marinette didn’t mean, does not believe, and would never say if she’d been herself.

"You saved me countless times!" His eyes watered as her's did the same. "You saved Paris countless times!" Yellow smoke intruded into his thoughts, helpless to stop the cycle no matter how many Second Chances he got. "It-" Shame choked his throat and he swallowed it back, averting his eyes. "It's about time I started pulling my weight..."

Frowning, Marinette placed her hands over his. "Who... said you weren't pulling your weight?" His silence was answer enough and the guilt cut at her.

Piecing Adrien and Chat Noir together was surprisingly easy when she let herself consider it. Virtues and flaws that made a terrible sort of sense together. Once Marinette understood that he felt just as alone as she did. And Princess Justice threw it all in his face.

"Well, she was wrong!" Marinette snapped. Gripping Adrien's hands firmly as they trembled. (Chapter 14)

Marinette would never say that Chat wasn’t pulling his weight, that he wasn’t good enough. Wouldn’t believe it and would fight back against anyone who hurt her partner that way. She reassures him that he is enough, that he did well, even while he assures her that he doesn’t blame her for what happened and nor would anyone else. That she’s human, and having a moment of emotional weakness, of distress, does not make her bad or unworthy or irresponsible.

Both of them reassuring each other that they don’t need to be perfect. That they are enough. To be kind and forgiving towards themselves.

#ml fanfic analysis #scarlet fever #miraculous ladybug #ml fandom salt #fandom salt

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

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Reunions are... interesting if you’re a Todd.

Alright, this is based on @bannananorie‘s Tell Me More where Jason Todd is Marinette’s big brother with one exception---Marinette didn’t know where Jason was after she was adopted until after he died when she was ten. They were apart for three years here, as GCPD got her at 7. unedited mess.

Nino, Kim, Alix and the mean girl Chloe knew about ‘the dead brother’ since they were there when at ten Marinette broke before them all. The anxious, bubbly girl with a too wide grin that had a bit of trouble with her French, babbled often and would talk about Gotham with not-quite haunted eyes but with a longing none of them could comprehend, they saw her shut down with the knowledge that GCPS lied.

They knew where her brother was. He died running away from the Waynes. Killed publicly by Joker.

The class only knew her brother was purposely kept from her, her parents lied to about them not knowing where he was, and that now he was dead. His adoptive father was some rich guy that let him die.

Chloe stopped bullying the girl once she changed. Suddenly Gotham was all but illegal to say anywhere Marinette was. Chloe made certain that anyone close to violating it dealt with the Paris police going through their records with a fine tooth comb.

Alix distracted her with history, art, anything she could think of. Broke into Marinette’s house during her catatonic weeks.

Kim kept challenging her, to anything to keep her from thinking about it. He may have inadvertently become a second sibling to Marinette. He knew he was no replacement, but he refused to let her be on her own for long. She needed someone and Kim did always want a younger sibling, so. Two birds, one stone.

Nino took to music mixes, random stories, anything he could think of to get Marinette to smile for a bit. He knew her smile, the one that lit up the room and made everything feel right. The sad eyes were wrong on her, a crime against the universe in his opinion.

The four made a pact after finding out—no one mentions Gotham or her biological family’s history or even asks about her having siblings. They would block all of these questions how they could, as it was just… wrong to see her look like that.

Kim and Nino were the best at keeping up with the pact. They always ended up in her class and had the easiest time distracting her. Kim would issue a challenge, and need a banner. Nino had his headphones and a new playlist at he ready in need of critiquing.

Alix would sometimes find herself working with Marinette on an art project, and if Marinette began to get a blank face anytime she saw gargoyles, well, Alix already liked street art. Why not spray paint the gargoyles into something else?

Chloe was needed the least. Only if a teacher tried to do a heritage project. Chloe would come down with her father and the entire idea would be taken out of the school’s curriculum to “pick a culture your family is from” and no one really questioned it.

Then Liar Rossi appeared in Bustier’s class.

Nino threw Marinette looks as yes, his crush was gone but she never went after someone like she did Lila. The girl was the first to welcome newcomers like Alya, and he knew she didn’t hate anyone more than ‘cons, swindlers and drug dealers’.

He still remembered how his ex-crush took down one of the dealer three streets over trying to sell to a pregnant woman. Marinette didn’t report it—that was a mortified Nino calling Chloe and Sabrina since they’d know what to do when their tiny classmate threw a man to the ground, locked his arm behind him and told Kim to stay with the woman as she called her sober sponsor, shaking and crying the whole time.

Kim didn’t forget the time Marinette took him down when he grabbed her shoulder, throwing him over her shoulder with a wild look in her eyes not long after they first met. He didn’t forget how she kept giving him and the class a number of double takes when they all met her the first time in elementary school. How it took him asking to spar with her and for help with his clothes to get her to trust him as “now you can’t turn your back as easy” and felt his heart go out to her then.

Or that she hardened her eyes when one kid said he knew Batman so she should like him and along with him.

And that she told the kid in perfect French while shaking with rage and a glare that threw everyone off as she was wary but so kind and gently smiled most of the time. “Do not talk to me about Batman or Gotham ever again.”

Gotham was still never mentioned around her—Kim or Nino or Alix would cut off any attempts to bring it up. Or Batman. Somehow it extended into the Justice League. But looking back, he realized that saying things like that where Marinette grew up meant death.

Kim and Nino had a feeling Marinette saw a con, and they both knew the girl was smarter at looking for things like that than them. She was primed for it, and maybe seeing things but maybe… Neither wanted to entertain the thought of being manipulated by a friend.

Alix hadn’t forgotten how Marinette shook the day someone told her Jason Todd was just a stupid street kid that was better off dead. Alix threw the punch before Marinette did, took the detention and had Kim take her to the gym to destroy a few punching bags.

Marinette had that same shake when Lila said she was Ladybug’s best friend. She didn’t know what to make of it.

Chloe saw the liar as such on sight, and told Sabrina the girl was full of it. They both knew the mangy-cat was Ladybug’s best friend.

Alya was enthusiastic about the liar, and it made sense. Alya didn’t know about where Marinette grew up or that she spotted cons and liars and the worst of the worst in ten words or less or about the times she acted to stop their kind.

Everyone knew she was adopted, and that you don’t ever ask about where she was from before unless you wanted Chloe, Alix, Kim or Nino to attack with a vengeance.

Alya knew Marinette was adopted, that she cut her old life out and refused to touch anything from before her adoption. She was curious but the way Marinette shut down the one time she asked and how her boyfriend whispered that that place all but broke Marinette—she didn’t ask.

She did think her girl was jealous over Lila being close to the heroes—especially with her former crush on a certain cat… which made sense with her not seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir as a couple.

It was the heritage project presentation that ended that.

Alya hadn’t know what to do with the Marinette that finally opened up about where she grew up before she was adopted. The words that fell out of her mouth made the girl sick.

Marinette was the sole survivor of her family, watched them die, and Lila made the girl relive that. And Alya saw the girl’s smirk and their teacher trying to get Marinette acting as a role model

Marinette broke down crying when she got away. Lila and Bustier forced her to talk about her Before—the part of her life she threw away because Gotham never gave a damn about her or Jason. The part she buried when she found out he was gone.

This part of Paris always reminded her of him, Jason, her dead brother. The one that GCPS kept her from finding after they caught her for the fifth time. The one that her new parents tried to find from France. The one who died as a ward of none other than Gotham Playboy Billionaire, Bruce Wayne.

Never as a son, always a ward.

Who he then replaced with Tim Drake if the bits of Gotham news that made it through the filters was anything to go by.

She didn’t see the black butterfly that went for her. She just knew it didn’t make it.

Alix took the hit. Became an akuma that she couldn’t remember the name of because this akuma refused to touch a crying Marinette.

She did remember Kim and Chloe of all people finding her. Kim carried her to school while Chloe murmured soothing things that made her distantly wonder if Chloe was getting ready to hurt her. Pity was always a tool to make someone indebted to you, the parts of her she tried to rebury whispered.

The akuma held Lila and Bustier hostage while demanding Marinette be present for the pair’s end.

Chat Noir was fighting on his own.

Marinette tried to get out of Kim’s grip but couldn’t.

She didn’t remember much about the akuma, just that this one brushed away her tears and told her “These are only the first that will pay for his death.”

She remembered absently grabbing what must be the akumatized object, breaking it and wanting this all to end.

That week she went into grief counseling.

Alya and the class practically smothered her, refusing to leave her side. She never told them her old last name, or what her brother’s was.

She hated the class treating her like shattered glass.

She did note that Alya was doing an in-depth deep-dive investigation on the school after purging Lila and posting a number of redactions.

Alya’s hard work and persecution of Bustier and Damocles resulted in international attention on the class.

Apparently they were all involved in some way. Marinette’s extensive notes on what Bustier asked of her (rules to work within, she did best with lists and knowing the rules. Knowing what rules you were playing by kept you alive in Gotham.

Apparently the case of a class suing a teacher and principal for gross incompetence, negligence, and abuse to current and former students landed them a trip to Metropolis. Not Gotham---god she knew her classmates would die there—but Metropolis. To the Daily Planet, so the class could get a better look at investigative journalism.

Somehow before going Chloe found out her old name was Mary instead of Marinette, testing it out. Marinette didn’t know how much she missed hearing it.

The class must have picked up on it. They all refused to call her anything but variants of Mary on the plane. Marinette couldn’t stop laughing when one of the boys asked if they should call her “Bloody Mary” if she took down another asshole—clearly referencing the dealer she may or may not have pinned once in front of Kim and Nino.

The girls took to calling her Mary-gold since they decided they loved the sound of it.

Kim proposed Mare-bear given her well known cuddly teddy bear habit when she fell asleep on him during the flight. This was quickly agreed to by all as Kim’s exclusive nickname for her.

Adrien was the one to ask if he could call her Mae-Bae while they were waiting for their luggage.

Most of the girls squealed over it. They all knew she still had feelings for him and yes, more than a few were hoping for him and Kagami to end their relationship already. Chloe was of the opinion Kagami was too pushy for Adrien, which Sabrina agreed with. The rest of those wishing for the break up was for adrienette to finally happen.

Marinette was bright red and wanted it all to stop because she needed stability and Adrien always threw her around when he did things like that. She liked the nickname but not from him—not while he’s not with her like that and they both know he likes someone else and is probably dating Kagami seriously at this point and just… She can’t go there.

Kim decided to stand in between them on the way to the hotel. Why?

“He had his chance, and for godsake, he’s dating Kagami.”

Adrien was confused by Kim being well, acting like he was her older brother. And he didn’t see what was wrong with the personal nickname since Kim had one too.

It was a bittersweet for Marinette. She missed this from Jason. Jason was dead though and couldn’t. So Kim did what she he couldn’t.

Jason Todd kicked himself when he saw a photo of the class that got caught up in one of Luthor’s plans in Metropolis. Why?

Because he’d recognize his Pixie Pop anywhere. He may be Red Hood, he may not be worthy of talking to her, but he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. And Lex Luthor’s hair brained schemes? That was something he could punch and shoot.

He was there not long after Batman—apparently this battle needed all the help it could get. They didn’t try to stop him when he went to get the hostages out.

He froze when he saw a boy calling his little sister “Mare-Bear” while rubbing her back as she was curled up in a ball, shaking and so, so tiny in the room with a hoodie that was way too big for her on her shoulders.

Before he could say anything he was attacked by the group, his sister’s shaking gone and the boy and her quick to tackle him to the ground and restrain him with—ribbons? Ribbons.

They were speaking French. God, his sister probably wouldn’t shouldn’t recognize him anyway but he thought he could at least talk to her and wait. He knew that look.

She was assessing a threat. He—he was the threat? A goon!

“Are you sure he’s not with them?”

“He not in classic goon wear, and no one goes for easily recognizable when they’re playing goon,” Marinette did her best not to slip completely back into English. It was more for home or her stress rambles and right now she needed to be understood by less-than-fluent French kids.

“Hey!” the man in the helmet turned to her, “kid, Red Hood.”

The group looked at her, Max and Chloe.

“I have no files on them.”

“No idea.”

“His name is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.”

“Gotham, ring a bell?”

The class froze. Marinette knew they were expecting her to break. She didn’t, she wouldn’t again like that. She was working through her grief in a healthy way this time. With heroics and vigilantism too.

“Can’t say I have, stopped keeping up with it after the second Robin disappeared,” Marinette was shaking slightly. But she was the leader right now, she was in charge of getting her class out and maybe freeing other hostages.

“Lets take out the others, get out of here and sort out whatever this,” Marinette gestured to Red Hood, “is later.”

Lila ended up with a gun to her head, by one of the obvious goons, demanding to know who organized their escape.

The class froze.

She was the closest. But also more dangerous as the ‘smart hostage’. They’d isolate her form the others, but unlike the others, she knew how to handle these things.

“Well, who is it!”

Everyone glanced at her, waited for her word.

“I did.” Marinette stepped up, moving to one of the other goons.

She didn’t know Red Hood was watching this from his hiding place with his heart in his throat.

“And who are you?”

“Pixie,” he hissed. He heard his comms crackled to life but he tuned out what was being said. he forgot he was on the old Bat channel.

“Marinette,” she took Lila’s place as hostage with a gun to their head.

The goon took her away from the group.

Red Hood couldn’t follow. He did the next best thing and took them out. His sister’s classmates helped.

Marinette managed to escape the hold with her head intact, and turned his gun onto him. She took out his kneecaps and made it out.

She wasn’t expecting for the class to be out already.

She was shaking for real.

Kim and Nino stayed at her side while she translated their statements to the police, never once looking at the police. She still didn’t trust them—Gotham thing.

Then the icing on the ‘what the hell’ cake made an appearance.

“How are you kids holding up?” Bruce Wayne approached the group.

Marinette stopped shaking. Fear? That vanished as rage decided to take over. All that ran through her mind was ‘he let my brother die.’

Kim knew her tell. “Would you mind leaving us alone sir?”

That caught everyone outside of their class off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“Marinette doesn’t do anything involving her old city after the grade A BS it put her through,” Alix gave him a plastered smile radiating danger.

“And you’re pretty important there,” Alya added, rubbing Marinette’s back. “So as much as I would love to talk with you, Mary-gold’s not going into another grief mess is more important.”

Bruce left at that, but did talk to Clark Kent.

They both missed Red Hood walking over to the group while they looked up the class and who “Mary” was.

“Hey, kid!” the class moved to surround Marinette when he approached. They let him get close enough to be eye level when he kneeled. “Don’t volunteer to be isolated in situations like that. I’m pretty sure your family would hate losing a spitfire like you.”

Marinette fisted her hoodie, slipping into English in her current state. “The first one’s already gone. I’d just be joining my brother.”

“Don’t,” he grabbed her arm, “don’t joke about that shit Pixie!”

Marinette froze. Only one person ever called her that.

Red realized his mistake when he saw her eyes get wide and tear up. “They said you were dead.”

He flinched under his helmet. “I was.”

The officers around them were doing double takes. The place was silent enough then for Bruce to see Red Hood—no, Jason, Jason kneeling before a brunette in pigtails around the age of Mary To—oh. Oh. OH.

He grabbed his phone, calling Tim. “What was Mary Todd’s new name?”

“Gimme a sec B… Marinette Dupain-Cheng, why?”

He hung up.

Red Hood knew it would get bad if he stayed. That he shouldn’t have talked to her. Stupid idea. He was so stupid. She was better off without him.

He ran.

Alfred found him in passing months later, outside of ‘work’.

“Master Jason, I believe she’s looking for you.”

“She’s better off without me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just you were when you went looking for her?”

He didn’t say anything—what could he say?

He knew she wasn’t better off without him as the person he was before the Pits. But after? After she was so much better off.

He ran again.

Like a coward.

When he made it to his hideout he froze when he realized none of his teammates were there, but he could hear movement in the kitchen.

“Tikki, this is completely necessary!”

“Marinette, I still don’t see how any of this will help with Hawkmoth.”

“I, he’s my brother, and I can’t, I can’t keep doing this without help.”

He froze. His sister needed help? With what?

“You have me and Chat, I don’t see how bringing in someone else would do any good.”

His sister has a team. And who the hell is this French cat she’s working with?

“Everyone else was outted during the last battle. And Master is…” he heard the movement stop.

Her team was severely screwed over then. He could see from the glass she dropped a spoon. Stirring something. She was cooking? Baking? And oh god, that didn’t look right, her hunching over.

A red dot moved to her shoulder, speaking some language he didn’t know He did catch. “Marinette” and “Ladybug”. And that, that sounded suspiciously familiar. He’d look into it later…

“I, I know but I can’t keep looking on my own and we both know Chat’s civilian life makes it almost impossible for him to get away unless there’s an attack, and I can’t takedown Hawkmoth on my own.”

He was done waiting.

“Pixie.”

“Jason!” She spun around, her eyes were—god she’d been crying. She was wringing her hands then. “I, surprise?”

He got close enough to see what she was making. It looked like their old version of ‘sink sundaes’ on a cookie.

He had a million questions to ask but the first one that he asked was “When the hell did you get glasses?”

Great job, you completely avoided the real question, he berated himself.

“Oh, this,” Marinette touched them. “I, uh, needed to find you and uh, maybe we can sit down and I can explain?”

One long winded explanation later and he saw his sister tuck her hair behind her ear, her nervous tell.

“So, um, I know you’re busy taking down dealers and monsters here and Gotham needs all the help it can get, but… do you think you could take a break to help me take down a magic terrorist?”

“And leave you alone to take on being a magic zookeeper---”

“HEY!”

“--And play detective when we both know you suck as every who-dun-it game?”

Marinette gave a sheepish smile.

“Of fucking course I’m going. Shit, I’ll have to message B and…”

Not even an hour later Jason had Marinette on a video call while eating sink Sundays on skillet cookies.

“Hey B, what the hell does the League have on Hawkmoth and Miraculous?”

Batman stared at Jason and Mary Todd. Eating icecream and cookies. on his batcomputer.

“…who?”

“You failed me B, really.”

Marinette decided a small victory dance was in order, as she knew it “Told you, the order was almost extinct for two centuries. No way Batman or the League would know about them.”

That was a challenge. But also…

“Mary, why are you on this call?”

Marinette straightened up then. “uh, Ladybug for this. One of two active Heroes of Paris, currently the only Guardian of the Miraculous living and able to remember them, and stealing my brother for ‘ending a reign of terror’ purposes.”

Batman twitched. He hadn’t even incorporated her into either of his identity’s lives and she was more involved than any of his kids had been at her age.

“Pay up peasants.”

Batman turned to see his other two sons swearing while handing Damian a large amount of cash. “I told you if Todd did have a sister, she would already be involved as Todd was before Father took him in.”

BONUS for daminette shippers

Mary pointed on the screen. “That’s the one you call demon spawn, right?”

Damian looked at the bat computer then, and stood up a bit straighter and—oh no. Bruce knew that look in his eyes from his own face enough times. Even if Damian’s was scowling.

“Todd, must you?”

“I must. Now, I’m going to going back with my sister, staying with her parents, and wont’ be available as we will be knee deep in magic and investigations.”

“And baking,” Marinette piped up, “Maman and Papa will drag you into learning some part of the family business, and no one interrupts a bread rise without severe consequences.”

“Noted.” Bruce really hated this.

“What kind of threat is this Hawkmoth?” Damian asked.

“He basically brainwashes you with magic into transforming into something with whatever made you really, really upset. I can undo the damage and you don’t remember being brainwashed and all but…”

“And you’re taking Todd?” Damian scoffed. “Father, I will join them to ensure that if he falls to this brainwashing.”

Bruce did not like this.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Damian.

“I can go as a civilian and be covert if you’d prefer.”

“I, sure. I could use someone to cover during my classes when I have to leave since they’ve been hovering a lot more lately.”

“Excellent. We can discuss cover stories at a later point in time. For now, I have other business to attend to.”

Bruce would later learn said business was arguing with Jon over if it was ethical to propose faking a relationship to maintain a cover as civilians, or if him ‘reconnecting’ with a shared relative was better. And debating his outfits for Paris.

Apparently it didn’t have to be either covers as by the time the paperwork for Damian’s transfer was through, Jason and Damian had returned to Marinette’s suspect, Gabriel Agreste.

Jason’s camera caught a corrupted butterfly escaping the home. Then another. And another.

Damian was… sulking? Bruce didn’t even know.

Later Bruce would watch Hal be torn a new one not by Wonder Woman but Red Hood and Robin while Ladybug was… fangirling? Fangirling, over Diana’s mother and her accomplishments as a Ladybug.

And if Chat Noir was a little sullen until his teammate mentioned a former cat on Themyscira and was then alert and curious and oh god he could not, under any circumstances, allow him to meet Catwoman.

It turned out they were both terrified of the woman on the principle of magic jewelry and jewel thief. He’d take small mercies.

He decided there were no mercies, only trade offs in his misery.

Damian held Marinette’s hand and pecked her cheek. In front of Jason.

He groaned when Jason began to chase Damian, who used Dick as a willing shield and spilled Tim’s coffee, adding him to the chase.

Alfred gave Marinette a cookie. “I see Master Damian decided to announce your relationship.”

They heard gun shots.

She was a bit red. “I thought we’d be telling him once we were away from easy access weapons.”

“It seems Master Damian grew impatient.”

Well that’s it. I had to make a happy ending and then i decided it needed to have something fluffy at the end, so flagship of maribat it was.

needed a break from my au for a day so i worked (mostly) in someone else’s.

#maribat #my writing #it was angsty then i fixed it #some lila exposed #consequences exist

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getalittleclosey · 4 years

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under 50k larry fic rec

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 100k

100k+

☆ the beginning of everything by thedeathchamber 31k

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

☆ to kill the mess we’ve made by misandrogyny 43k

And when he's finally standing, Liam fussing over him, rubbing his hand at the red mark blooming on Harry's forehead, does Harry learn two things:

One, he wasn't actually hit that hard, and Tommo--or Louis, rather--is just as pretty when Harry is staring at him head-on and,

Two, Louis is the Adidas model he's going to be working with on today's photo shoot.

(or: AU where Harry and Louis are both models, and they decide being friends-with-benefits is a great idea. It isn't.)

☆ heart open, bloodstain on my sleeve by silkbombs (mulberrygrey) 36k

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry admits, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “I stared at you for a good while before I finally got the guts to come up to you. You looked so pretty sitting there, with your little ankles and your pencil in your mouth, so enthralling… art in front of art.”

Louis’ not sure what to say, so he just kind of sits there, eyes bugging out as he stares at Harry.

“I mean, like you’re not an object!” Harry rushes out, babbling.

“I just, there’s something about you that’s so captivating, and maybe it’s the way your eyes are like a watercolor painting of the sea, or how delicate your hands look when you draw, but I just wanted to get to know you. It’s not like I pick up random boys at art museums usually, I swear. Not that I’m trying to pick you up! Unless you want to be…God, fuck I’m sorry this is so awkward now. I can go, um, if you want."

--- Or, the one where Harry's the long limbed, gangly, sweetheart who just happens be a high profile art thief who conducts heists for a living and Louis' the loud, pushy art student who just happens to steal his heart.

☆ a king beside you by stylinsoncity 26k

When the aliens invade, the last thing Louis expects is to fall in love.

☆ the boys of summer by afirethatcannotdie 45k

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

☆ don’t let the tide come and take me by kiwikero 29k

The aquarium in the lobby has been there as long as Louis can remember, and so has the merman inside. That is, until the day Louis loses his job and decides to set the creature free.

They set off on a road trip to the sea, learning to communicate more and more each day. Their destination is LA, but the closer they get and the more Louis gets to know the merman, the more he dreads having to say goodbye.

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

☆ introduction to dynamics by juliusschmidt 29k

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

☆ saved tonight by objectlesson 31k

Harry is the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis's biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

☆ once upon a dream by objectlesson 27k

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

☆ rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied 29k

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

☆ life was a song, you came along by rainbowninja167 38k

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

☆ learning to eat by photo41 29k

Celebrity chef Louis Tomlinson has a problem. He’s opening his first restaurant in 9 weeks, and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s ‘standoffish’ and ‘rude’ and ‘quick to temper’. Whatever. He ends up saddled with an annoying, happy-go lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. His tv presenter and pop star best friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting Julia Child?!

Kitchen AU where Harry helps Louis re-learn how to eat. (METAPHORICALLY)

note: just to clarify this is NOT an eating disorder fic don’t worry

☆ runner on third by kikikryslee 40k

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year. --- Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

note: there are four fics in this series that total to 60k

☆ roots by cherrystreet 43k

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

☆ once upon a dream by thedeathchamber 33k

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

note: there’s a 24k sequel for this!

☆ the melody you never heard by bananasandboots 30k

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

☆ born to make you happy by objectlesson 26k

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

note: i literally had to take a break and reread this cause i love it so much

☆ close to nowhere by angelichl 35k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

☆ adrenaline by reveries_passions 38k

“Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay.

louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline.

harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school.

or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

☆ bloodsport by tofiveohfive 40k

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

☆ the haunting of louis tomlinson helloamhere 31k

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

*** OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

☆ can i not like you for a while? by larryshares 43k

louis tomlinson is awful. harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. it makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.

☆ delight in masques by kassio 28k

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

☆ no love like your love by rearviewdreamer 43k

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.

note: i love vegan harry styles

☆ for neither never nor ever by fairytalelights 29k

Then Harry looked down. A newspaper was on the steps in front of him, looking new, like it had only just gotten delivered but no one had bothered to carry it inside yet. That, in itself, wasn't unusual. The unusual thing was the headline, Chernobyl - Half a Year Later, and the date in the corner. 5th November 1986. He looked up to stare at the girl in the doorway one last time, before he did the only logical thing his body knew how to do in this situation. He bolted.

or, the one where Harry travels through time and has to come to terms with losing everything he's ever known. Louis might be the only thing that feels real.

☆ worth dying for by whoknows 45k

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

☆ listen to your heart by lovelarry10 35k

Are you kidding me right now?

I… No? Louis frowned, feeling angry now. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help his feelings. It felt like this had been brewing for weeks, and this was it. Give it a rest, Harry.

Why are you such a brat? Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?

You think I want to hear about you kissing James? Really, H? There’s things I just don’t need to know, okay? I’m your best mate, not your fucking relationship advisor…

*****

Louis has always been comfortable being Harry’s one and only. When Harry starts to branch out, Louis has a hard time letting him go.

Harry is very lucky to have someone who listens to what he has to say, despite the fact that he’s deaf. He’s finally feeling like he’s coming into himself, but Louis seems bothered by his newfound confidence.

☆ another day gettin’ into trouble by whoknows 26k

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

☆ all the right moves by cherrystreet 32k

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

☆ play the odds by alivingfire 26k

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

#fic rec #mine #larry stylinson #one direction #apparently i really love objectlesson #cause they have fics on every list i think #30 of these!#fic masterpost

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svmmerdays · 4 years

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( 09 / muse 25 / cis female & she/her ) contrary to what the campers might tell you, that’s not macarena garcia. that’s theodora ‘theo’ montoya! this is their 2nd year working here and they’re a counselor. they’re 20, and i just found out during ice breakers they’re a scorpio. at first they might seem pretty manipulative, but they’re actually really ambitious. when they have down time, you can usually catch them tanning by the lake. try to get to know them for yourself this summer! ( pepper / she/her / 24 / est )

ABOUT THE MUN what is that? that freaky thing? yes that’s right it’s a naked mole rat

it’s me, pepper, with a second muse despite the fact that i probably don’t really need a second muse. but i’ve been making bad decisions since 1996 babey, i see no reason to stop now!

BIO. she’s a maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard, make you want all of her love.

Theodora Juana Montoya was brought into the world and immediately wrapped in rich silk. Honestly. The first thing in her life to touch her skin was more expensive than anything most people touch in their lifetime and that set the tone for the rest of Theo’s life like nothing else could.

Theo’s father, Arturo ‘Art’ Montoya, was the CEO of a manufacturing company and her mother, Silvia, was beautiful. Really. That was her entire occupation. Before she married her father Theo heard that her mother used to be more. She was a model in Mexico, an amateur actress too. But growing up all Theo knew her mother to do was stand there, or occasionally sit there, and look pretty. And as a child Theo couldn’t think of a greater job in the world.

Until it became suddenly and abundantly clear that pretty wasn’t enough. Because of course other women could be pretty too. While Theo’s mother was particularly good at it, she didn’t have the market cornered. Theo’s nanny’s brand of pretty was not only enough to get Papa Mo into bed with her, but enough to get him to leave his wife and daughter too. Theo remembers the day he left with particular clarity. Half because it was her sixth birthday and half because that was the first time Theo had ever seen her mother look ugly. Because Silvia Montoya’s rage was ugly and that ugliness showed as she chased Arturo out of their house for good.

Theo’s father didn’t want her. Theo, that is, not her mother (although, frankly, he didn’t seem to want her either). He didn’t say it in so many words but there was no custody battle. Her mother got her without the slightest bit of fight and half of her father’s money to boot. Silvia still wanted Art’s head on a spike but the money eased her pain. It soothed her. And when she found Theo, crying about feeling unwanted and unloved, she had the money lick her wounds too. That day Theo got a solid gold necklace with her name on it, a pony, and tickets to see Jesse McCartney. That day Theo learned to wipe her tears on hundred dollar bills.

Her mother taught her other lessons as she grew up. First that you really could make money off of just being pretty. It was eye opening for Theo to see her mother use her looks to seduce men into marrying her. Successful men. Rich men. Men who should really know better, but easily fell to the charms of a pretty face. Silvia would usually get these men to wed her, stick around just for long enough to avoid questions, and then leave with half of their fortune. It was a subtle con but it was one that worked more than once, and through it all Silvia made sure her daughter knew everything she had come to learn, so that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes she did.

So Theo learnt from the best. Not the best mother by any means (her mother was cold, irate, and critical on her best days, and almost cruel on her worst) but the best black widow in the country for sure. She saw her mother singlehandedly ruin these men in both heart and bank account, and she participated. She made them fall in love with her, not in the same way her mother did of course, but as a daughter. Always daddy’s little girl for whichever daddy of the week it was. Always starry eyed. Always in awe. The perfect little girl who could ask daddy for a grand and get double that because she could do no wrong. She could never do anything wrong, even as behind closed doors she used that money for certainly less than right things. Drugs, gambling, partying, drinking, Theo dabbled in it all probably way too early. But who needed to know? Certainly not daddy.

The Montoya women lived well for a while (well, one Montoya woman and whatever surname her mother had taken from her husband of the year). They had more money than they knew what to do with, all without either of them having to work a day for it. And they were greedy to boot. Theo expected the two of them to live this way for the rest of their lives. And maybe they would have if Silvia didn’t slip up.

Against all odds, Theo’s mother fell in love. And she married that man, for love. It was made all the more ridiculous by the fact that the man was none other than Theo’s father. After all he had done. After all they had been through.

Theo was fifteen when her parents got remarried. Theo got nothing out of the arrangement but a maid of honour dress she promptly burned, twin half siblings she actively despised, and her biological father back, she supposed. She hated it. She hated her father, and at that point she felt lied to by her mother, the one person she had been able to trust. Their household quickly became a warzone. Theo vs her parents. Theo rebelled against them whether that be through subtle rich bitch antics (getting a boy she liked to crash her daddy’s car, making a scene at an important event, trashing the house with a massive party, ‘losing’ her siblings in increasingly outlandish ways, etc) or straight out hostility. It did nothing but make Theo feel better honestly, but Theo selfishly thought that was more than enough. Until they decided to send her to boarding school, like that was supposed to fix absolutely anything. It didn’t. It just angered her more than anything.

But that was Theo’s life for a while. Going to boarding school during the school year, seeing her parents briefly during the Christmas break, and to top it all off, the most humiliating of all being shipped to Dagwood in the summers. Theo first set foot on Dagwood soil at fourteen because her parents thought that the experience would humble her or build character or god knows what else. While her boarding school friends were vacationing in Paris or Greece or Hawaii, Theo was stuck swatting mosquitoes by a fresh water lake in the middle of nowhere surrounded by children too dumb to wipe their own noses. Initially Theo despised the whole thing and made that no secret to the campers around her. Honestly, she was really and truly a brat for the first month of that summer. But eventually Theo... got lonely. She’d die before admitting it, but it’s the truth. After all, being a bitch to everybody didn’t tend to make you any genuine friends. Minions maybe, but friends? Not so much. And considering she was being forced to endure Dagwood at least the rest of the summer, she decided to try a different tactic. So frankly, some people probably remember Theo positively from camp and some people probably remember her really negatively depending on whether or not she decided to stop being a bitch to them specifically sdkjsdkj however for the following summers Theo really did come to almost enjoy coming to Dagwood because of the friends she made there, so yes that is a big wc gimme that squad pls and thanks. Definitely caused havoc, might have snuck some alcohol into their cabin, definitely were just... true pains in the asses for the counselors and heads alike, we love to see it. Anyways, moving on dkjsdjk

When Theo actually was home with her parents she was force to watch the woman her mother was waste away into something lovestruck and meek and anxious. Silvia was terrified that Art would cheat again, that if she didn’t keep him 100% happy he would leave her. She drank to cope. Popped more than a few pills too. And that’s how Theo learned that one of her earliest memories was a misunderstanding. That it wasn’t rage on Silvia’s face but desperation. She didn’t chase Arturo out, he left. The new perspective was eye opening. Her mother wasn’t who she thought she was, or maybe she was, but love changed her. The rose coloured glasses she used to fool men into loving her were over her own eyes now, and they had made her weak.

And then of course her father cheated. Again. Theo caught him in the act herself and she wasn’t the slightest bit surprised. He begged her not to tell her mother, to keep it between them. Theo countered his pleading with a saccharine sweet request for a new car. And later a new wardrobe. A yacht? A trip to Paris with her friends? Oh daddy, would you look at this cute little plane, I have to have it! Please?

And just like that all was right with the world then. Theo had the upper hand. She had a father, her real one, wrapped around her little finger. Her mother was still a disappointment but she was learning to cope with that. It was all looking up. Until the day before Theo’s eighteenth birthday. Because apparently, she’s cursed.

The day before Theo’s birthday her father was very quietly arrested, and if you’re wondering, yes it did put a damper on her birthday party the following day. It should be mentioned that Arturo Montoya was the CEO of a weapons manufacturing company, and according to the government he had been selling said weapons at a considerable discount to the wrong people. Now honestly, Theo wouldn’t have minded her father going to jail. Yes, it was embarrassing but the government was keeping things very discreet as they underwent their investigation, and her father would be going to a comfy white collar jail to boot. No one would even know that Art Montoya was behind bars.

But then they took her mother with him as an accomplice. And while Theo’s heart might not be very big or warm, she does have some loyalty.

And well, shortly after they seized their bank accounts, and that was the last straw. Because while Theo could maybe perhaps deal with being orphaned, being poor??? Was unthinkable.

This was all just before Theo went to university and she has told almost nobody about the incident. Theo trusts very few people honestly, call it her mother’s influence. No one knows that her parents are in jail and no one knows that she is technically not rich anymore because Theo has been keeping up appearances really, really well. She’s just as snobby as before. Just as materialistic as before. Just as willing to throw money around as before, even if she doesn’t technically have it.

Well, didn’t technically have it. Upon becoming bankrupt and (semi) orphaned Theo she called up some of her old stepfathers. Even though most of them (⅔) were still foolishly heartbroken over her mother, they all still loved Theo. They funded her without a second thought, giving her more than enough to get herself on her feet. But it couldn’t last forever. After all, she wasn’t even their step daughter anymore. But it’s due to their help and the scholarship that Theo was offered for her academic performance (that she honestly never thought that she’d actually need) that Theo can go to university at all.

Well, that and her side hustle, an entrepreneurial opportunity that came to Theo at a time when her bank account was running particularly low and her professor made a pass at her like a sign from god. Or maybe Zeus, that perv. Anyways, the point is everything suddenly clicked into place.

Skeevy, lonely, old, rich, married men. That was her in. That was her salvation. She’d get them to cheat, or even just come close to it. Take a few pictures maybe. Save a few text messages. Record a few phone calls. And finally blackmail them and milk them for all they’re worth. Cut and dry, a piece of cake. A bit of effort and Theo gets everything she wants as always. And no one has to know. Order will be restored. She’ll be on top.

Theo has been doing this for about two years and she’s been pretty successful. It helps her pay her bills and fuels her shopping habit. She also has a few sugar daddies on file because, well, a girl’s gotta do what a girls gotta do. But to almost everyone in her life Theo just simply continues to put on the facade of being effortlessly rich. She even still goes to some rich people events and stuff like that just to keep up appearances, even if it drains her funds like nothing else. If anyone ever asks where her parents are, they’re out of town. Oh, Mom is in Milan for fashion week, and Dad is in China on a business trip. She has too much pride to admit the truth to anyone, because despite everything Theo is a little embarrassed of it and she does not want anyone by any means to ever pity her.

But by the end of the second semester of her first year Theo was getting worried. Yes, she had stepdad 1 pay for her tuition for the year and yes stepdad 2 was wiring money to her monthly for her rent and other expenses (which was really just code for Theo letting him help her raise her parents bail) all while she had stepdad 3 on standby for an emergency and a few profs and sugar daddies in rotation, but it still wasn’t enough. Theo still needed money to actually pay for her rent and expenses, not to mention extra to maintain her lifestyle, and her step father’s love could only stretch so far. So, for the first time in her life Theodora Montoya decided to get a... job. The very thought still makes her shudder on occasion, but she’s slightly soothed by the fact that she’s at least working at Dagwood. Not the most glamorous job by any means even when she ties her counselor shirt up just so, but the most subtle for sure. After all, she could easily disguise her actual need for money by saying she just wanted to hang out with some of her old camp friends and reminisce about their past antics. No one would question her, after all, Theo doesn’t tend to act like she actually wants to keep her job, what with how often she would bring her campers to the lake so that she could tan, or sit them down and give them questionable romance advice and call it exercise.

That was until Theo well and truly fucked up. It’s a rare occurrence but it happens, occasionally, and when it does Theo can sometimes admit it. One of her campers almost drowning on her watch was one of those times. Honestly, it was simply a circumstance where Theo was too freaked out to lie. Yes, she might be a horrible person and yes she dislikes kids in general, but she actually likes her little trolls. And she would never want to actually hurt one. And knowing that one may have died on her watch was a shock to the system. For once in her life Theo was actually genuinely remorseful. She honestly considered turning down the head of staff’s offer of a second chance, despite knowing she needed the money, because she truly wasn’t sure if she even should be in charge of kids. But in the end she accepted it, knowing she wanted to spend more time with the people and campers she’d grown attached to here.

But then came karma, the bitch who hits back in the form of the head who had decided to blackmail her in return. Honestly, it was almost funny how ironic it all was. Well, it would be if it wasn’t happening to her. As it is, Theo is doing her best to be on her best behavior as of late. That is at least until she can find herself with an opportunity to get some dirt of her own.

HEADCANNONS. i’m not killing people, i’m killing boys

was head bitch in charge in high school, head cheerleader, etc. very spoiled honestly, is used to asking people to jump and them asking how high, and can occasionally come off a bit bossy because of it.

still very much loves dance and gymnastics from her time cheerleading, actually used to do ballet growing up too. she is probably on a dance or gymnastic club at her university and on the competitive cheer team Considered becoming a dance major at one point but instead took freaking pre med (* elle woods vc * what, like it’s hard? dfkjdjk) for the money and only the money though!

honestly theo plays dumb a lot of the time and tbh,,, she is a bit of dumb when it comes to certain things (straight up thought that a banana would cost ten dollars before she started buying her own food, thinks you have to pay to get your mail, like rich people dumb yk) sdkjsdjk but she does really well academically like she’s never really struggled to much to make grades. will joke that she’s just in the medical department to try and meet her future husband though, and generally won’t share her grades because honestly she figures if people know she’s smart they’ll see her coming,,, and she doesn’t want that, if people think she’s just a pretty face it’s easier to screw them over.

is a really good student though and takes school pretty seriously but doesn’t want it to look like she does? like she wants to seem effortlessly smart, but she studies her ass off when no one’s looking. her binders are all colour coded and sexy, like she is a secret nerd for sure.

used to travel all over the place with her mother because of the amount of times her mother got married like it’d straight up be like i’m marrying this guy from sydney australia so off we go baby pack your bags aksbsj we’re moving. So she’s spent time all over the place honestly, i’d say she’s at least lived in five different countries in her life? So despite being born in New York, she’s been all over.

i’m going to say her mom got married three times in nine years so?? definitely sus but nothing too crazy like some men just do that anyways so dkjdjk

Can speak spanish (she learned from her mom), french, italian, german, and knows a bit of latin mostly because she took it in high school though so it truly is just a rich bitch thing. can speak bits and pieces of a few other languages but not fluent by any means

doesn’t tend to have the highest opinion of men in general because of the way she was raised but she’s not an asshole about it yk like unless you’re an older man she can exploit you’re safe.

a bisexual icon like all of my muses honestly! very much inspired by me finally starting to watch dare me and it taking over my life so yes this bitch swings both ways!

honestly lowkey really craves love and acceptance from her father but is so salty after the initial rejection that she won’t give him the chance to reject her again! she’d rather die!

honestly rejection is probably one of her biggest fears

a philophobe but i feel like no one is surprised. thinks love makes you stupid and yk what she’s not wrong! has never been in love!! or maybe she has,,, wc mayhaps??

watches a lot of reality tv and the entirety of her cabin is probably judging her for it but she doesn’t care!! will watch bachelor in paradise on her phone behind the mess hall in the living room (rip bip 2020,,, you will be missed)

speaking of the cabins, theo is super messy so fgkfdkj good luck y’all! her take out containers are probably stacked up in the staff fridge if they have one, and her room looks like tornado just went through it because this girl is used to having maids to clean up after her and now that she doesn’t she doesn’t know how to act!!

Is freaking tiny man. Like legitimately like 5’2.

dabbles in witchy stuff mostly for fun. believes in ghost. the one to pull out a ouija board at a party. very much into astrology. needs to know the time you were born.

her mom calls her juana but she’s really the only one to. goes by theo or thee for the most part, or mo depending on the person. her insta handle is @theomo

goes to visit her mom in prison like once a month. gets the guards to call her father over only so he can sit down, pick up the little phone thingie, and theo can look him in the eye as she hangs up on him sdkjdskj.

still a bitch for jesse mccartney! also one direction! the jonas brothers! also probably most boy bands, like she likes to pretend to be like yes hmm classical music because she wants to seem classy but just wATCH HER POP HER PUSSY TO BURNING UP! her campers have probably come back from activities to her doing entire performances in her fluffy bathrobe and bunny slippers and you know what good for them it was a whole show!

loves her campers because they treat her like a queen. i imagine most of the 13-15 year old girls are impressionable and see theo as some sort of god with her bottomless makeup tips and rich girl stories, and theo just basks in that. they make her feel powerful. she adores them.

won’t smoke, but will vape. also a lightweight when it comes to drinking, but she doesn’t want anybody to know that! will pop pills, but is very particular about it cause she doesn’t want an addiction. pill popping is for special occasions.

is incredibly ticklish on the low!

PERSONALITY. it’s not easy to apologize and that’s exactly why i won’t do it

FUN! theo enjoys a good party and isn’t nearly as posh as she likes to come across, so once you get to know her underneath the ice queen exterior she is a lot of fun.

quite WITTY mostly because she likes one upping people even in verbal spars. will give you the funniest advice and anecdotes because she’s just really snarky?

SELFISH as all hell god. feels no remorse about destroying these men’s lives. the embodiment of that killing eve scene where the guy is trying to bargain with villanelle to spare him like ‘i have kids!’ and villanelle is like ??? ‘i don’t want your kids’ aosbsjsq

GREEDY, kind of stuck up, materialistic, spoiled

in love with herself honestly. no one loves themselves more than theo loves theo. is she insecure underneath it all? i guess i’ll find out

kind of MEAN i’m not going to lie fgjkdfjk but only really to strangers and people she hates. hates a lot of people though, but is the type to be nice to their face and trash talk them behind their back, or trash talk them to their face sometimes too yk to mix it up

LOYAL! like if you’ve broken through her walls she’d probably kill a man for you (if she could get away with it scott free ofc)

SUPERIORity complex. doesn’t care what people think of her as long as they know she’s better than them wkenekej

EMOTIONALLY DISTANT. if you’re ever upset and need someone to comfort you do not come to theo she’ll just ask if you want to do some online shopping sksbsjs does not have a healthy relationship with her emotions at all. a straight shopoholic when she’s upset like she just fills that void with stuff or goes on a bit of a self destructive party spree (hence why she legit did still have her eighteenth birthday party after her parents were arrested)

a DRAMATIC bitch honestly.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. i want it all! i want it, want it, want it, the fame and the fortune and more! I WANT IT ALL!

BEST FRIENDS. her squad from camp please! also childhood friends mayhaps! a pen pal she confided in as she moved place to place! maybe someone she met at boarding school???

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE. someone who goes to her uni maybe? i’m pretty flexible about what school she goes to!

PEOPLE WHO KNOW HER FROM BOARDING SCHOOL. i said what i said! or people she used to pick on from boarding school, or even people who used to be on her cheer squad, or even people who HATED HER IN HIGH SCHOOL CAUSE YOU’RE VALID.

FIRST LOVE. first love at camp,,, once again i am putting this connection down cause it so cute

GIRL SQUAD. honestly just give me a group of girls that get up to wild antics together. it’s rare to see one of them without at least one of the others and it’s just cute and fun!

SOMEONE WHO SEES THROUGH HER BULLSHIT. someone who’s onto her! whether that be in her fake rich bitch antics or the entire ice queen facade!

FWB/EWB. open to ladies and gents, you know what it is.

EX FWB/EWB. same thing bby girls and boys come one come all.

ENEMIES. just !!! mutual hate man!! we love to see it! theo is vocal and passionate when she hates someone so!! give it to me!

SOMEONE WHOSE DAD SHE’S BLACKMAILING. i mean???? could be wild folks. we don’t have to make it that theo slept with him but she definitely got close enough to be able to blackmail him.

PLATONIC SOULMATE. just a soft f/m friendship where they know each other really well and get along really well and they really are not dating or even interested in that but everybody is like omg y’all should date but they’re like !!! never gonna happen it’s not like that

SIBLING LIKE RELATIONSHIP. they annoy each other! and drive each other crazy! but they would do almost anything for each other rip.

EX STEP SIBLING. theo’s mom definitely used their dad for money but maybe they don’t know that! or maybe they do! theo is probably currently using their dad for money and maybe they’re like girl you better STOP or maybe they want in on it, who knows.

GOD SIBLING. also cute and valid! they’ve known each other forever! maybe the only person to know about her parents cause they’re family? could also be a family friend.

PARTY FRIENDS. !!! give me friends who sneak out of dagwood together to go the club or something, or USED to sneak out of dagwood together before but now theo won’t cause she’s turning a new leaf and all that, or straight up friends who sneak out to the lake or by the woods to drink and party together.

SUGAR BABY. give me someone who theo spoils or used to spoil just because she does indeed love them. their is no sex involve probably, she just has a soft spot for their poor ass, even now that she’s technically poor herself.

FAMILY ENEMY. maybe like? an enemy of her family or something? their families are rivals or something like that or have a longstanding fued? could be wild could be fun.

ONE NIGHT STAND. self explanatory, could be from any time or anywhere tbh.

EXES. theo could honestly have a lot of these, once again… f or m or nb, any of the above work. theo doesn’t really know how to like? love someone though so this would be messy. she was probably only looking for a good time and probably played with their feelings more than a bit because of it. maybe dumped them or maybe they dumped her! if they dumped her than tksjdkjsd theo is incredibly offended and is probably trying to get them back and/or ruin their life out of spite so jot that down!

#dagwoodintro #how is this one even longer i don't understand #t.m. | intro.

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theobaba · 4 years

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━━ ( aslihan malbora + cis female + twenty ) oi , have you seen theodora ‘theo’ baba around ? she lives in flat 16 in bedroom 2 ? i was meant to meet them this morning at bean me up before our lecture but she didn’t show . no ? well , shit . if you do see them , can you tell them i’m looking for them ? they’re a 2nd year pre-med student from paris, france & you’ll know it’s them because they might just remind you of the gleam of sunlight off of cream silk , the smell of money , dotting your ‘i’s and ‘j’s with hearts, red lipstick on the rim of a champagne glass, and getting caught rolling your eyes in the background of a photograph if that helps at all . just be careful , she can be a little vain , judgemental & greedy sometimes . —- oh don’t look like that , they’re usually loyal , charming & resourceful most of the time . ✏ pepper , twenty three, she/her , est

ABOUT THE MUN what is that? that freaky thing? yes that’s right it’s a naked mole rat

hello everybody, my name is pepper and i have never been on time for anything ever in my life, so this is very on brand for me dkjddkj i made theo up a few days ago while watching dare me and feeling particularly inspired by the cheerleader antics, so here she is to fuck things up! but a bit about me to start, i can and will twerk to the cardcaptors opening theme song, because it is a bop and i think it’s time we all acknowledged that. i spent majority of the past week full on sobbing over the good place and i have no regrets. the last song i listened to was jumpin’ jumpin’ by destiny’s child, and once again, no ragrets. and finally the last movie i watched of the decade… was cats. so sdkjsdjk one regret.

BIO. she’s a maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard, make you want all of her love.

to start here is a cute little pinterest board i did for her.

Theodora Aylin Baba was brought into the world and immediately wrapped in rich silk. Honestly. The first thing in her life to touch her skin was more expensive than anything most people touch in their lifetime and that set the tone for the rest of Theo’s life like nothing else could.

Theo’s father, Haluk ‘Luke’ Baba, was the CEO of a manufacturing company and her mother, Aysun, was beautiful. Really. That was her entire occupation. Before she married her father Theo heard that her mother used to be more. She was a model in Turkey, an amateur actress too. But growing up all Theo knew her mother to do was stand there, or occasionally sit there, and look pretty. And as a child Theo couldn’t think of a greater job in the world.

Until it became suddenly and abundantly clear that pretty wasn’t enough. Because of course other women could be pretty too. While Theo’s mother was particularly good at it, she didn’t have the market cornered. Theo’s nanny’s brand of pretty was not only enough to get Papa Baba into bed with her, but enough to get him to leave his wife and daughter too. Theo remembers the day he left with particular clarity. Half because it was her sixth birthday and half because that was the first time Theo had ever seen her mother look ugly. Because Aysun Baba’s rage was ugly and that ugliness showed as she chased Luke out of their house for good.

Theo’s father didn’t want her. Theo, that is, not her mother (although frankly he didn’t seem to want her either). He didn’t say it in so many words but there was no custody battle. Her mother got her without the slightest bit of fight and half of her fathers money to boot. Aysun still wanted Haluk’s head on a spike but the money eased her pain. And when she found Theo, crying about feeling unwanted and unloved, she had the money lick her wounds too. That day Theo got a solid gold necklace with her name on it, a pony, and tickets to see Jesse McCartney. That day Theo learned to wipe her tears on hundred dollar bills.

Her mother taught her other lessons as she grew up. First that you really could make money off of just being pretty. It was eye opening for Theo to see her mother use her looks to seduce men into marrying her. Successful men. Rich men. Men who should really know better, but easily fell to the charms of a pretty face. Aysun would usually get these men to wed her, stick around just for long enough to avoid questions, and then leave with half of their fortune. It was a subtle con but it was one that worked more than once, and through it all Aysun made sure her daughter knew everything she had come to learn, so that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes she did.

The Baba women lived well for a while (well, one Baba woman and whatever surname her mother had taken from her husband of the year). They had more money than they knew what to do with, all without either of them having to work a day for it. And they were greedy to boot. Theo expected the two of them to live this way for the rest of their lives. And maybe they would have if Aysun didn’t slip up.

Theo was fifteen when her parents got remarried. Theo got nothing out of the arrangement but a maid of honour dress she promptly burned, a half sibling she actively despised, and her biological father back she supposed. She hated it. She hated her father, and at that point she felt lied to by her mother, the one person she had been able to trust. Their household quickly became a warzone. Theo vs her parents. Theo rebelled against them whether that be through subtle rich bitch antics (getting a boy she liked to crash her daddy’s car, making a scene at an important event, trashing the house with a massive party, ‘losing’ her sibling in increasingly outlandish ways, etc) or straight out hostility. It did nothing but make Theo feel better honestly, but Theo selfishly thought that was more than enough. Until they decided to send her to fucking boarding school, like that was supposed to fix absolutely anything. It didn’t. It just pissed her off.

But that was Theo’s life for a while. Going to boarding school and only seeing her parents for Christmas breaks and summers. Watching the woman her mother was waste away into something lovestruck and meek and anxious. Aysun was terrified that Luke would cheat again, that if she didn’t keep him 100% happy he would leave her. She drank to cope. Popped more than a few pills too. And that’s how Theo learned that one of her earliest memories was a misunderstanding. That it wasn’t rage on Aysun’s face but desperation. She didn’t chase Luke out, he left. The new perspective was eye opening. Her mother wasn’t who she thought she was, or maybe she was, but love changed her. The rose coloured glasses she used to fool men into loving her were over her own eyes now, and they had made her weak.

The day before Theo’s birthday her father was very quietly arrested, and if you’re wondering, yes it did put a damper on her birthday party the following day. It should be mentioned that Luke Baba was the CEO of a weapons manufacturing company, and according to the government he had been selling said weapons at a considerable discount to the wrong people. Now honestly, Theo wouldn’t have minded her father going to jail. Yes, it was embarrassing but the government was keeping things very discreet as they underwent their investigation. No one would know that Luke Baba was behind bars.

But then they took her mother with him as an accomplice. And while Theo’s heart might not be very big or warm, she does have some loyalty.

And well, shortly after they seized their bank accounts, and that was the last straw. Because while Theo could maybe perhaps deal with being orphaned, being poor??? Was unthinkable.

Well, didn’t technically have it. Upon becoming bankrupt and orphaned Theo she called up some of her old stepfathers. Even though most of them (⅔) were still foolishly heartbroken over her mother, they all still loved Theo. They funded her without a second thought, giving her more than enough to get herself on her feet. But it couldn’t last forever. After all, she wasn’t even their step daughter anymore. But it’s due to their help and the scholarship that Theo was offered for her academic performance(that she honestly never thought that she’d actually need) that Theo can go to university and stay in the flats. With roommates. The thought still makes her shudder, even after being here two years.

But by the end of the second semester of her first year Theo was getting restless. Yes, she had stepdad 1 pay for her tuition for the year and yes stepdad 2 was wiring money to her monthly for her rent and other expenses (which was really just code for Theo letting him help her raise her mother’s bail) all while she had stepdad 3 on standby for an emergency, but was it enough? Theo wasn’t living the life she was used to living. It was infuriating. It was frustrating.

And it was around then that her professor made a pass at her. Like a sign from god. Or maybe Zeus, that perv. Everything suddenly clicked into place.

Theo has been doing this for about two years and she’s been pretty successful. It helps her pay her bills and fuels her shopping habit. She also has a few sugar daddies on file because a girl’s gotta do what a girls gotta do, but to almost everyone in her life Theo just simply continues to put on the facade of being effortlessly rich. She even still goes to some rich people events and shit just to keep up appearances. If anyone ever asks where her parents are, they’re out of town. Oh, Mom is in Milan for fashion week, and Dad is in China on a business trip. She has too much pride to admit the truth to anyone, because despite everything Theo is a little embarrassed of it and she does not want anyone by any means to ever pity her.

HEADCANNONS. i’m not killing people, i’m killing boys

still very much loves dance and gymnastics from her time cheerleading, actually used to do ballet growing up too. she is probably in a dance or gymnastic club at the university or even on the competitive cheer team if they have one. Considered becoming a dance major at one point but instead took freaking pre med (* elle woods vc * what, like it’s hard? dfkjdjk) for the money and only the money though!

honestly theo plays dumb a lot of the time and tbh,,, she is a bit of dumb when it comes to certain things (straight up thought that a banana would cost ten dollars before she started buying her own food, thinks you have to pay to get your mail, like rich people dumb yk) sdkjsdjk but she does really well academically like she’s never really struggled to much to make grades. will joke that she’s just in the department to try and meet her future husband though, and generally won’t share her grades because honestly she figures if people know she’s smart they’ll see her coming,,, and she doesn’t want that, if people think she’s just a pretty face it’s easier to screw them over.

is a really good student though and takes school pretty seriously but doesn’t want it to look like she does? like she wants to seem effortlessly smart, but she studies her ass off when no one’s looking. her binders are all coloured coded and sexy, like she is a secret nerd for sure.

i’m going to say her mom got married three times in nine years so?? definitely sus but nothing too crazy like some men just do that anyways so dkjdjk

Can speak turkish (she learned from her mom), french, italian, spanish, and knows a bit of latin mostly because she took it in high school though so it truly is just a rich bitch thing. can speak bits and pieces of a few other languages but not fluent by any means

doesn’t tend to have the highest opinion of men in general because of the way she was raised but she’s not an asshole about it yk like unless you’re an older man she can exploit you’re safe.

a bisexual icon like all of my muses honestly! very much inspired by me finally starting to watch dare me and it taking over my life so yes this bitch swings both ways!

honestly lowkey really craves love and acceptance from her father but is so salty after the initial rejection that she won’t give him the chance to reject her again! she’d rather die!

honestly rejection is probably one of her biggest fears

a philophobe but i feel like no one is surprised. thinks love makes you stupid and yk what she’s not wrong! has never been in love!! or maybe she has,,, wc mayhaps??

watches a lot of reality tv and the entirety of her flat is probably judging her for it but she doesn’t care!! will watch the bachelor in the living room and scream prayers for pilot pete’s last braincell!

speaking of the roommate situation, theo can’t cook and is super messy so fgkfdkj good luck y’all! her take out containers are probably stacked up in the fridge, and her room looks like tornado just went through it because this girl is used to having maids to clean up after her and now that she doesn’t she doesn’t know how to act!!

Is freaking tiny man. Like legitimately like 5’2.

dabbles in witchy stuff mostly for fun. believes in ghost. the one to pull out a ouija board at a party. very much into astrology. needs to know the time you were born.

her mom calls her aylin but she’s really the only one to. goes by theo or thee for the most part, or baba depending on the person.

still a bitch for jesse mccartney! also one direction! the jonas brothers! also probably most boy bands, like she likes to pretend to be like yes hmm classical music because she wants to seem classy but just wATCH HER POP HER PUSSY TO BURNING UP! her roommates have probably come home to her doing entire performances in her fluffy bathrobe and bunny slippers and you know what good for them it was a whole show!!

won’t smoke, but will vape. also a lightweight when it comes to drinking, but she doesn’t want anybody to know that!

is incredibly ticklish on the low!

PERSONALITY. it’s not easy to apologize and that’s exactly why i won’t do it

fun! theo enjoys a good party and isn’t nearly as posh as she likes to come across, so once you get to know her underneath the ice queen exterior she is a lot of fun.

quite witty mostly because she likes one upping people even in verbal spars. will give you the funniest advice and anecdotes because she’s just really snarky?

selfish as all hell god. feels no remorse about destroying these men’s lives. the embodiment of that killing eve scene where the guy is trying to bargain with villanelle to spare him like ‘i have kids!’ and villanelle is like ??? ‘i don’t want your kids’ aosbsjsq

greedy, kind of stuck up, materialistic, spoiled

in love with herself honestly. no one loves themselves more than theo loves theo. is she insecure underneath it all? i guess i’ll find out

kind of mean i’m not going to lie fgjkdfjk but only really to strangers and people she hates. hates a lot of people though, but is the type to be nice to their face and trash talk them behind their back, or trash talk them to their face sometimes too yk to mix it up

loyal! like if you’ve broken through her walls she’d probably kill a man for you (if she could get away with it scott free ofc)

superiority complex. doesn’t care what people think of her as long as they know she’s better than them wkenekej

if you’re ever upset and need someone to comfort you do not come to theo she’ll just ask if you want to do some online shopping sksbsjs does not have a healthy relationship with her emotions at all. a straight shopoholic when she’s upset like she just fills that void with stuff or goes on a bit of a self destructive party spree (hence why she legit did still have her eighteenth birthday party after her parents were arrested)

a dramatic bitch honestly.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. i want it all! i want it, want it, want it, the fame and the fortune and more! I WANT IT ALL!

omg before i forget i have a wanted tag right here and i would love anything inspired by any of the posts in it too!

BEST FRIENDS. i feel like this will mostly be her roommates but also childhood friends mayhaps! a pen pal she confided in as she moved place to place! maybe someone she met at boarding school???

SQUAD. people on the cheer squad at the university would be fun i’m just saying.

FIRST LOVE. like i said, theo has traveled all over (mr worldwide? more like MRS. WORLDWIDE! move over pitbull dsklsdk) and tbh i’m pretty flexible about where so this could literally be anybody!

GIRL SQUAD. honestly just give me a group of girls that get up to wild antics together. it’s rare to see one of them without at least one of the others and it’s just cute and fun!

SOMEONE WHO SEES THROUGH HER BULLSHIT. someone who’s onto her! whether that be in her fake rich bitch antics or the entire ice queen facade!

FWB/EWB. open to ladies and gents, you know what it is.

EX FWB/EWB. same thing bby girls and boys come one come all.

ENEMIES. just !!! mutual hate man!! we love to see it! theo is vocal and passionate when she hates someone so!! give it to me! tommy & arlo

SOMEONE WHOSE DAD SHE’S BLACKMAILING. i mean???? could be wild folks. we don’t have to make it that theo slept with him but she definitely got close enough to be able to blackmail him.

SIBLING LIKE RELATIONSHIP. they annoy each other! and drive each other crazy! but they would do almost anything for each other rip.

GOD SIBLING. also cute and valid! they’ve known each other forever! maybe the only person to know about her parents cause they’re family? could also be a family friend.

LEND ME SOME SUGAR, I AM YOUR NEIGHBOR. just a neighbor who theo is always pestering kjdjkd theo shares with them, despite the fact that they didn’t ask!! tries to prod into their life, it’s a whole ass mess.

PARTY FRIENDS. !!! give me friends who get fucked up together. maybe it’s a thing where theo parties with these people but tends to avoid hanging out with them outside of that setting?

FAMILY ENEMY. maybe like? an enemy of her family or something? their families are rivals or something like that or have a longstanding fued? could be wild could be fun.

ONE NIGHT STAND. self explanatory, could be from any time or anywhere tbh.

#theflats:intro #god... this is so long for no reason #izzy's will definitely be shorter!!

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bitternessbitesback · 5 years

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Marinette’s my Girlfriend!

AO3 FFN

Summary: Listen, she’s never really been the best at coming up with cover stories so would you cut her some slack? (totally not inspired by this post at all)

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug, Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir

Honestly, this day could not get any worse, except the universe must be laughing at some joke she's not in on considering how it just. Kept. Getting. Worse. Was this perhaps a little bit her own fault? Maybe. However the blame rested almost entirely on her partner's, Chat Noir's, shoulders. Of course it just so happened to be during their night patrol, and Marinette really needed to get home and sleep if she even wanted a sliver of a chance of getting to school on time.

"Come on M'Lady, just one date," The cat hero pleaded as they leapt from roof to roof, "If you still don't like me after that, I'll give up on you for good."

Needless to say her tolerance was very low tonight with the sharp look she gave him.

"Cat's honor!" He swore, bringing one of his hands up by his head in some form of salute she didn't recognize.

"For the last time Chat Noir, no." Ladybug told him firmly, "I already have someone my heart belongs to."

"I know, but is there really no room in your heart for me too?"

They stopped on a random rooftop as the spotted hero turned to face her partner, trying not to feel guilty at the brokenhearted look he was giving. What little guilt she did feel at rejecting him though was quickly overpowered by her anger, why did they have to keep having this conversation? Could he seriously not get it through his skull?

"No," Ladybug told him with the sigh of someone so done with other people's bullshit, "No Chat, there isn't. The only feelings I have for you are strictly platonic. Besides, I'm already seeing somebody else, so if you could please stop asking me on dates I'd really appreciate it." There, that ought to solve the problem.

"What?" Chat was incredulous, "No you're not." He was firm in his stance and Ladybug was starting to get over this real fast.

"What do you mean no I'm not? You cant just say something and expect it to be true Chat!"

"You've never brought him up before!"

"I've clearly told you that I have someone in my heart multiple times! Besides we have to keep our identities secret, remember?"

"So? I've told you multiple times you're the only lady for me, and we're not dating!"

"Ugh!" She was so frustrated with him! "That's because you refuse to see the truth even when it's right in front of your eyes!"

"So what is the truth then? Are you really dating someone, or do you hate the idea of being with me so much you had to make up having a boyfriend?"

"Oh my god Chat! Not everything's about you! But fine! You want the truth? Here it is! First of all if you're going to accuse me of making up anything at least get my preference right! Second of all, yes I am dating someone, and she cares more about my feelings than you claim to!"

"What?" Chat's voice was small now and the fight in him seems to have left, allowing Ladybug sometime to breathe before she spoke once more.

"You heard me."

"What's her name?" His question caught her off guard, but he looked seriously ashamed of himself.

"Marinette." Ladybug replied in a cool tone, a wave of spite running through her as she told him, as she swung herself off the roof and towards her home.

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Unfortunately Marinette's phone didn't charge last night, thus causing the girl to run late once more for school. She hadn't been able to get much sleep either, that fight with Chat had really taken a lot out of her. For whatever reason as she was running out the door her parents pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, saying that they's always accept her no matter what.

"Um, okay," The poor girl was considerably confused as to what they were talking about, "I've got to get to school, but we can talk later?"

"Yes, yes, of course dear," Her father readily replied.

"We'll be right here waiting for you when you're ready." Her mother added as Marinette slipped out the front door.

Now she had a feeling something was up when random people on the street and in the halls kept giving her looks, though she reasoned that it was probably all in her head. As she raced to her locker, she quickly pulled out all the items she would need for her first class. Shutting it only revealed a sheepish Adrien that nearly scared the daylights out of her!

"A, A, Adrien!" She exclaimed in shock, "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say congrats!" He replied cheerily, though there was something slightly off about his tone.

"Con... grats?" She questioned, tilting her head in confusion.

"Yeah, not everybody get's the chance to date a superhero! What's it like?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." And she really didn't, but could you blame her, she's running on only three hours of sleep here!

"It's okay, you can tell me!" Wow he was being really cheerful today. "Your secret's safe with me!"

"Secret?" Was followed shortly after by a gasp of realization, "Who told you?"

"Er... well it's all over the LadyBlog right now."

A jolt of fear ran through Marinette's system, he knew she was Ladybug! She was doomed! Now Hawkmoth would be able to specifically target her family to use against her! Desperately Marinette attempted to turn on her phone despite knowing that the battery is dead. How could Alya out her like this? Okay, she just needed to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Now that she's calmed down, she was finally able to process what exactly Adrien just said. Didn't he say something about 'dating' a super hero? Oh... oh no.

"It's okay Marinette!" Adrien comforted, "I'm sure everyone in our class will be really accepting. And everyone who's not doesn't matter."

It was then that the bell rang and Adrien excused himself, telling Marinette that he could always help her out with the paparazzi if she ever needed tips. As soon as he was out of sight, the pig tailed girl fell to her knees. No wonder her parents were going on about 'accepting' her earlier, she thought maybe her maman was pregnant again, but this was so much worse. Yes, she was glad to have such open minded parents, but that wasn't the problem here!

Now that the whole of Paris thought Ladybug was dating Marinette, that just made her a target for Hawkmoth which would make it so much harder to sneak away from an Akuma to transform. Secondly, apparently paparazzi would now be an issue, again making it harder for her to transform. And finally, the biggest problem of all, Adrien thought she was dating Ladybug! Argh! Now she'd never have a chance to confess her true feelings to him.

She really is unlucky for someone with the power of luck, huh?

#fake dating #but not int the way you think #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #misunderstanding #ladybug x marinette #i guess??????#My writing #bitternessbitesback #one shot #short story #fanfiction #listen marinette is tired of chats shit okay

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thenovelartist · 5 years

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For @lnc2 who always wants more Ladrien and who also thinks Marinette would be the first to propose. For the life of me, that proposal has been lingering in my head all day, so I combined those two things and it can be her happy fic to kick of 2019.

Adrien felt like he could drop dead. All he wanted to do was sleep for the next two days.

After he got Plagg all the cheese he desired so that Adrien was free to do so.

He got to his door, swinging it open

“Hey there, hot stuff.”

And was instantly revitalized.

He smiled, feeling the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders as he stared at the vision in red laying on his bed. He dropped his bag over by the cheese cabinet so Plagg could have at it, and then walked over to the bed. “Hey there, beautiful.”

“Do I get a hello kiss?”

With his grin ever-widening and his heart gaining speed, he crawled onto the bed right beside her. She flashed him a growing grin that made her eyes twinkle before lazily looping her arms over his neck. His hands ended up on either side of her shoulders, allowing him to hover halfway over her. “As though you even have to ask.”

She giggled right before he captured her lips with his. They’ve had a surprising amount of practice considering they’ve been together the better part of two years. Adrien had never more thankful for a freak thunderstorm in all his life, one that had sent his lady running for shelter, which had just happened to be his home. They had watched a film with popcorn that Adrien had sneaked into his room, and he somehow had found the courage to invite her back again.

That happened three times before she had confessed that she liked him. A lot. And his own confession came spilling out shortly after.

What happened after that was a very serious heart-to-heart about how they would work. After all, he was Adrien Agreste: famous model and son of famous fashion designer, and she was Ladybug: beloved superheroine to Paris. If the news caught wind of them, it would end in nothing but a nightmare for both of them.

“Then we just won’t get caught,” he had said.

And that’s how picnics under the night sky or dates hidden away in the safety of Adrien’s room or a quick kissing session in secluded corners became a thing. Being with her… it was the best feeling in the world. Because with Ladybug, it wasn’t “Adrien Agreste and Ladybug” or a “supermodel and superhero”.

It was just a boy and a girl in love.

He really liked how simple it was. But most of all, he liked how much she loved and valued him despite that simplicity.

Her fingers wove through his hair as she slanted her mouth against his to get better access, and he happily obliged. His arms somehow had snaked around her torso, bringing their chests flush together. She hummed in happiness, sending him reeling.

When they broke apart, Adrien leapt at the chance to pepper her jaw in kisses. She snuggled closer, her hands stroking his hair and leaving him dizzy. “I love when you do that,” he moaned.

“You love me,” she teased lightly scratching the nape of his neck gently.

He raised his head so that he could lock eyes with her. The world seemed to melt away at that moment, and all that was left was her and her smile and her loving gaze. “I do love you,” he whispered, causing her smile to split in two. His heart bursting and breath coming in rapid pants, he leaned down so their foreheads were touching. “You feel like home.”

She tilted her head so their noses touched. It also meant he felt ever last one of her rapid breaths roll across his extremely sensitive lips. “You feel like home to me, too.”

“I wish I could come home to you every day,” he said. “Better than coming home to this place.”

“You’re eighteen, you know,” she whispered. “You could just leave.”

“I’m looking,” he said. “I just haven’t found any place I like, yet.”

She quirked a brow. “Nothing?”

He shook his head, ruffling their hair on their foreheads. “Nothing. Do you know how hard it is to find a place on the top floor that will allow your girlfriend to sneak in on a regular basis without being caught? It’s not easy and not exactly something you can type into a search engine.”

Her expression turned stunned for a moment, and Adrien reveled in her surprise. “Because that’s very important to me,” he said. “That you’re able to visit me often easily and without worry.”

Slowly, her expression morphed into something sweet and soft. It wasn’t long before her lips were back on his.

He smiled with every kiss. She would never know just how much of a dream come true it was to be here, with her, together. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you,” she responded, clinging to him like a lifeline. “I love you so much.”

He deepened the kiss, causing her to release a whine. He swallowed it, only for it to burn hot in his stomach. “You mean the world to me, you know,” he said between kisses.

“You mean the world to me,” Ladybug returned, breathless. He basked in the realization that he was the one to cause that. “You’re just… you’re always the person I want to be with.”

He felt so much the same way. “You don’t think I don’t love opening my room, only to find you waiting for me? Do you have any idea how much that makes my day? How it makes every awful, horrible, miserable day into a day worth remembering?”

They shared a searing kiss after that, and Adrien forgot that he was talking in the first place.

Eventually, they calmed down, Adrien now laying fully on top of her and not caring how it happened because it was a wonderful feeling.

“Adrien.”

“Hmm?”

She paused, silence filling the room.

With a frown, he shifted so he could look at her. Her lip was between her teeth, which caused him to worry. “What is it, lovebug?”

“I’m debating,” she whispered so silently he almost didn’t hear it.

“Debating what?”

She stared at him again, and he grew slowly more worried. “Love, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

In one movement, she grabbed her yo-yo from her hip and tossed it into the air. “Lucky Charm,” she called, causing a burst of pink light to fill the room.

He didn’t see what she caught, mostly because he realized that she just cut their time short. “What was that for?” he asked, rubbing her earrings. “Now, you’ll have to leave, and you just got here.”

She smiled, her body relaxing under him. “I’m not planning on it.”

His brow furrowed. “You can’t… we agreed on this. We had this whole conversation and—”

“Adrien.”

He paused to look at her. Her smile was so wide and warm, which only made him feel more lost.

Suddenly, it clicked in his mind, and his jaw about hit the ground. “You’re going to reveal yourself to me.”

Her grin widened as she nodded.

His heart was going to race straight out the door, fly around the world, and maybe do another lap before returning to him. “Wha…” He swallowed. “What brought that on?”

“It’s not spontaneous decision.”

That was for certain. He loved Ladybug, and she could surprise him, but she wasn’t exactly spontaneous, especially if it involved something as important as her identity.

“I just… I really love you.”

“And I love you,” he assured. “But I don’t need to know who you are. You’re my lovebug. You’re my best friend. You’re the one girl who cares for me and wants the best for me. You’re the one I can go to if something is bothering me. You’re the girl I love being a grounding force for. That’s enough for me.”

Her expression fell, and Adrien knew her well enough to know there was an undertone of worry. “Is it, though?”

He nodded. “You can’t give me anything else. I realize that.”

“What if I could?”

“I would fly to the moon and back on sheer happiness,” he easily admitted.

Her grin returned, and she half-curled up on herself in a gesture that was both shy and giddy. “Then you’re not opposed to more?”

“Of course not,” he said.

“A lot more?”

“I’ll take anything you give me.”

“Like, be my husband more?”

And that’s when he froze.

She cracked open the little box that was red and covered in black polka dots. “Like, marry me more?”

Everything screeched to a halt as he turned from her to stare at the little ring she presented to him. Her words rang through his head.

It took far too long to realize this was a proposal.

His heart started up from its standstill, and suddenly, his eyes felt wet. Within a second, he was sobbing into her shoulder and clinging to her tightly. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes. Yes. Of course. Why wouldn’t I—”

“Adrien,” she interrupted, her voice sweeter than ever. “You’re rambling.”

“I shouldn’t be?” he challenged. “I’m kinda freaking out and really super happy.”

She snorted in amusement, and somewhere in the background, Adrien faintly registered her earring beeping.

He touched her earrings again, then looked at her, green eyes locking with blue.

She smiled. “Chat Noir and I had a conversation a while ago,” she began. “One about… revealing ourselves if we ever were to get married.”

He remembered that conversation. It was a long one discussing at length the pros and cons of keeping superheroing secret from their marriage partner. They could make excuses for a lot of people, but Chat had been adamant that a significant other wasn’t one of them.

He remembered Ladybug had been hesitant at the time. But apparently, she wasn’t now.

His heart was warm and drumming hard in his chest as she slipped the spotted ring over his finger. They were going to get married. And he was about as happy as he could possibly be. Smiling, he hid his face in the side of her head, shifting his arms around her and feeling her arms shift around his neck. “It doesn’t matter who you are,” he said. “I know what’s important.”

She hummed, turning her head to press her nose into his temple. “And that is?”

He squeezed her before meeting her gaze once again. “That you’re mine.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #quick drabble #That always turned out long #ladrien #ladybug #adrien agreste #fluff #romance #proposal

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imjustthemechanic · 6 years

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Natalie Jones and the Golden Ship

Part 1/? - A Meeting at the Palace Part 2/? - Curry Talk Part 3/? - Princess Sitamun Part 4/? - Not At Rest Part 5/? - Dead Men Tell no Tales Part 6/? - Sitamun Rises Again Part 7/? - The Curse of Madame Desrosiers Part 8/? - Sabotage at Guedelon Part 9/? - A Miracle Part 10/? - Desrosiers’ Elixir Part 11/? - Athens in October

Paris in the spring, it ain’t.

It had been cold and wet in England, and damp and chilly in France. When the plane landed in Athens, Natasha was prepared for it to be warmer – but walking onto the jetway was like walking into a sauna. It was only about twenty degrees Celcius, but there was not a cloud in the sky and the air was thick with Mediterranean moisture.

“How did you like your first aeroplane flight?” Sharon asked Sir Stephen, as they picked up their luggage. Months earlier, while they’d waited for night to fall in Sherwood Forest, she had pointed out an airplane and suggested that Sir Stephen might get to ride in one someday. Nat suspected it had been on both their minds all day.

“It was a bit of a disappointment,” said Sir Stephen. “The interior is so enclosed and the windows so small, you can barely tell you’re in the air. I liked the train much better. You could see the countryside you were travelling through.”

“It’s not for sightseeing,” Sam agreed. “Just for getting where you’re going.”

“If you’re in a hurry I suppose it’s fine,” Sir Stephen said with a shrug. “You couldn’t do it for a pilgrimage, certainly.”

“Why not?” said Nat. “Thousands of people go by air for pilgrimages every year. It’s the only way Muslims overseas can get to Mecca.”

Sir Stephen was startled. “But the point of a pilgrimage is to make a journey,” he protested. “People who live in Compostela do not walk up the street to see the relics of Saint James and call it a pilgrimage. Pilgrims are demonstrating to God that they are willing to undergo hardship. To simply fly over all obstacles in your way makes it seem so trivial.”

“Next time we’ll let you pay for the tickets,” Clint said. “Then we’ll see if you still call it trivial.”

Outside in the parking lot, they met the bus that would take them to their hotel, and everybody was pleased to find that it was air conditioned. The landscape between airport and city was a wide desert valley, with hazy hills visible all around the border of it. Life hadn’t changed much here in thousands of years – it was still all stony red soil and tiny farms, though in the twenty-first century these were as likely to host rows of solar panels as lines of olive trees. The buildings had white walls and red tile roofs, and sheep and goats grazed on little lots of pasture. It really did look, Nat observed, like something out of another time.

“How are we going to find Madame Desrosiers?” asked Allen.

“By talking to people,” Natasha replied. “Expats in areas like this, warm places where people like to retire, tend to live in close-knit communities. So we’ll have to find where the French people live, and ask around.”

“Oh,” said Allen.

Nat glanced at him. “You sound disappointed,” she observed.

“I am a little,” he admitted. “I was sort of hoping there was some special technique spies use.”

“Sorry!” said Nat with an amused smile. “Sometimes good old-fashioned legwork is best.”

“Absolutely,” Sharon agreed. “Even nowadays, when we have CCTV cameras all over the country and DNA evidence, most of what a detective does is talk to people.”

“But if we’re in Athens,” Nat added, “you guys will probably want to let me do the actual talking. Possibly Allen, too – none of the rest of you.”

Sam, Sharon, and Clint all nodded knowingly, but Sir Stephen was confused. “Why?” he asked.

“Because they’re the Americans, Steve,” said Sharon. “Greeks don’t like British people, and they’ll like us even less now that we’ve at least tried to give Princess Sitamun back to Egypt.”

“Why not?” Sir Stephen wanted to know.

“The Elgin Marbles,” said Natasha. “Once we find Desrosiers, we can go see the reproductions in the Acropolis Museum, and I’ll tell you about it.”

Athens itself was a maze of little roads between somewhat shabby-looking buildings, with tiny European cars and motorcycles zipping along with little regard for pedestrians or each other. The entrance to their hotel, located just a few minutes from the ancient acropolis, was a narrow door in between a pharmacist’s and a camera shop – Sharon and Sir Stephen checked them in at the front desk, while the rest of them took turns hauling their luggage to the fourth floor, in an elevator that claimed to be rated for the weight of nine people but didn’t look big enough to even hold three. Once they had their rooms, they immediately turned on the air conditioning again, and since they’d had a series of very long days, they all went to bed early.

Nat was sharing a room with Allen. As she was getting her nightshirt on, she heard him say around his toothbrush, “I didn’t know Sir Isaac Newton was an alchemist.”

“A lot of people don’t,” said Natasha. “His alchemical writings were only discovered in the 1930’s, but there’s loads of them. He was apparently much more interested in magic and theology than he was in science and math, he just didn’t publish what he wrote.”

“I wonder why not,” said Allen.

Nat knew the answer to that. “Partly because alchemy was illegal in England in the seventeenth century, because the crown was tired of con men who promised to make gold but then took your gold and disappeared. And Newton’s theological writings would have gotten him in trouble with the Church of England. He denied the divinity of Christ, which was a heresy punishable by death.”

Allen spit out his mouthful of toothpaste. “That would explain it,” he said with a chuckle. “How do you possibly remember all this stuff?”

“I was trained to remember everything I read,” Nat explained, “and most of what I hear, if I’m paying attention. Did you know that quail meat can be toxic if eaten at the wrong time of year, because the birds eat poisonous plants? Or that a churango is a musical instrument made out of a dead armadillo?”

“No, I didn’t know any of that,” said Allen, standing in the bathroom doorway with a fond smile on his face. “But I bet I won’t forget it. You know who you sound like?”

“Who?” Nat asked, pulling out her own toiletries.

“My daughter,” he said gently. “In my memories you were always full of stuff you’d learned and wanted to share. You’d learn something new in ballet class and come home and show it to us. Or you’d tell us what you learned in school that day – with your mouth full, when you were little. Your Mom and I used to have to remind you to swallow first.”

Natasha could picture it – herself as a child, sitting there eating spaghetti while excitedly telling her family about… about what? She had brought news home when she was small, but it wasn’t about her ballet classes.

“You’re upset now,” Allen observed.

“No, I’m fine,” Natasha said quickly and automatically.

Allen came and put his hands on her shoulders. “No, I’ve upset you. I can tell.”

She sighed and stepped away, hugging her own shoulders, then forced herself to give him a watery smile. “It’s just that your version sounds way nicer than the real… than the one I remember.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked.

Natasha knew he was asking because he cared. He wanted to help her bear the weight of the memories, because that was what families did.

She sat down on the bed. “When I was little, in training, my masters at the Red Room would plant us in groups of schoolchildren who were touring government buildings or newspaper offices… places like that. Our job was to ‘get lost’ and wander around listening to conversations among people who were suspected of political dissent. It was towards the end of the Soviet Union, of course, but there were lengths people weren’t allowed to go to, and the Red Room was much more hardline than the government was. I wonder sometimes, whether anybody ever got executed because of something I told my instructors when I got back. Probably not,” she added quickly. “Considering the times.”

Who was she reassuring, she wondered – Allen, or herself?

He didn’t reply right away, and Natasha wanted to look up at his face but didn’t dare. She couldn’t bear to find out what he was thinking. A moment ago he’d shared that warm memory of his little daughter chatting about what she’d learned at school, and now she’d stained it with eavesdropping and possible murder.

“Even if they were, it wasn’t your fault,” said Allen. He sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “You were a child. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“Yes I did,” said Nat. “They told us – they gave us a list of things to listen for, and told us that people who said them were enemies of the State, our enemies, and we’d be making the world a better place by reporting them so that they could be removed. And we knew what removed meant, because we’d seen it ourselves.”

Again, there was a silence. This time, Natasha forced herself to look up and read Allen’s face. Their room had two beds – they were sitting on the one by the window. The window itself was closed to let the air conditioner do its job, but the curtains were open, and it was possible to see traffic moving on the street outside. Allen was staring thoughtfully out the window at the darkening sky, trying to decide what to say. It only took a few seconds before Nat couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Allen?” she asked. It was not a moment to call him Dad.

He looked at her and ran his hand up and down her back. “Archaeology,” he said.

“What?” Nat asked.

“Archaeology,” he said. “You dig up the truth and share it.”

A chill washed over Natasha. She’d done a lot of examination in the past few months of why she’d chosen archaeology as her cover. There was the ostensibly practical reason that she was unlikely to become famous for it – the silly but sentimental one that she’d always enjoyed adventure movies – and the one she’d come up with as potential real reason, that after so long living in the shadows she wanted to be responsible for bringing things into the light. She hadn’t thought of it that way, that it was just another way of doing what she’d always done.

“Natasha?” asked Allen.

She swallowed. “It is, isn’t it?” she asked. “I expose people’s dirty secrets and tell them to the world.”

“But it’s different now,” Allen added, “because the people who kept those secrets died a long time ago, and nobody’s going to get hurt because you told.”

“I guess,” said Natasha.

Allen patted her back again. “Was that so hard, Ginger Snap?”

That was what he’d wanted from her, wasn’t it? That she trust him with her past and let him try to help her with it. She’d done her best and he had too, but now that seed of self-doubt had been planted, and she wasn’t sure it wouldn’t do more harm than good in the long run.

“I don’t know,” she said, and she really didn’t.

#fanfic #natasha romanov #steve rogers #sharon carter #sam wilson #clint barton

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jassandratrash · 6 years

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“God only knows why it’s taken me so long to let my doubts go.”

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Send in your favorite lyric prompt from this list!

50. God only knows why it’s taken me so long to let my doubts go

She always knew somewhere deep down that someday it was going to come to this. Someday, her lips were going to end up on his. Someday she was going to kiss him. Apparently, that someday was now.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about this before. She’d always seen it there, in the little moments, as a possibility. The day they met and he held her hand and pulled her from her breakdown; the day he told her that he paid attention; seeing him again for the first time after Peru and feeling the unexplainable flutter in her chest; the closet in Sweden; singing together in the Paris Opera House.

It all added up. It all had to mean something. And searching through the memories, looking at the cracks….every time something happened she saw it as a possible explanation, why these things were happening. But every time she thought it, she denied it. Because it wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be in love with Jacob Stone. Could she?

And yet now, here they were, nothing more than another routine day in the field, nothing more than an undercover mission. Except they got caught sneaking around, and people were suspicious, and they had to make their story believable, and so he grabbed her and he kissed her. And when their lips met, she knew.

She knew in that moment that it was him, that it had always been him, and she didn’t know how she’d ever doubted it. There was a reason for all those little moments between them; there was a reason for the butterflies in her chest.

She was in love with Jacob Stone.

They heard the con-men they were up against walk away, and Jake pulled away from her. But his hands were still on her waist, and they were still pressed up against the wall in the narrow little hallway.

“You okay?” he asked.

He must’ve noticed the totally flabbergasted look on her face, or her cheeks that she was absolutely certain were blushing.

“I…” she stuttered.

His eyes were the brightest shade of blue. Had she noticed that before? She didn’t know if she’d noticed that before. She must’ve, but….maybe she just doubted it like everything else. But she didn’t know now why she’d ever doubted it. Why would she ever want to doubt loving a man who was so wonderful, a man who made her feel so right?

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I just didn’t know what kind of excuse to come up with for why we were hanging around where we weren’t supposed to be.”

“No, no it’s okay.” Cassandra said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Jake smiled at her and she wondered if he was thinking the same things she was. He nodded at her to go, and they ran out the back door where they’d seen the con-men carry the artifact.

I’m in love with Jacob Stone she thought as they ran away, and she smiled at the notion. How did I ever doubt it before?

#fics #jassandra #the librarians

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lizzybeth1986 · 6 years

Text

Quick Thoughts on TRR Book 2, Chapter 8

• I’m still disappointed we didn’t get to learn more about Liam’s mother via Francesco, but this chapter pretty much made up for that so okay.

• I’m glad we got the opportunity to call Madeleine out on her bullshit and get Hana to realise she didn’t make a mistake after all. It was a pleasure seeing Madeleine quickly backtrack and try and make excuses for her actions haha.

• Liam's reaction is the entire reason I bought that lovely corgi in the first place and I'm glad to say I wasn't disappointed xD xD xD

• I’m so glad we get to know more about Penelope this chapter!! Esp about her passion for making clothes and how her station prevents her from completely following it through. This confirms in my mind that Penelope is a lot like Hana, with maybe less of the experience and the messed-up family relations. Both are still trying to figure out what their place in the world is.

• You know what I love most about the Penelope subplot? It’s that we learn not just about why she loves poodles so much, but also that we learn a lot more about anxiety as a disorder, and about Emotional Support Animals (I plan to make a separate post about this later). What looked to us as a comical obsession was actually a life-saver for people like Penelope. Hearing about her anxiety and how it causes her trouble at court also makes her own susceptibility to Bastien’s instructions make that much more sense.

• While Kiara is being excessively favoured by Madeleine, I do feel her connection with Penelope might be one of the contributing factors to why she switches sides. Kiara was going wild cheering for Penelope on stage!

• Hana, Liam, darlings, you’ll get your exclusive essays soon enough xD

• I’ve always perceived the engagement tour as being considerably wasteful, but after what Madeleine said to the press today I have a feeling that it is largely positioned to strengthen their ties with their allies by getting them acquainted with the new Queen-to-be, while still ensuring that Cordonia has financial backing in various areas. Notice how both the countries we have gone to, have certain official reasons behind the visit? They’re in Italy to push forward EU market access for Cordonia, and they’re in Paris to raise funds for disaster relief post an earthquake + tsunami. It makes so much sense that way IMO. Costs a lot for a small country but the pros definitely outweigh the cons.

• So Bastien is involved, which kiiiinda brings me back to his appearance in the Finale? When I read the chapter first I saw him as being sad and stressed and I put it down to him probably being instructed to do these things and him not wanting to do so. But then I realised he had the same expression even before - like when he was telling Liam to go to the dias when Olivia was withdrawing! After this revelation, it makes more sense because it wasn’t sadness he was experiencing, but guilt. He knew both of them were innocent and still had to contribute to their reputations being trampled to the ground. This, of course, makes it clear that the orders to ruin them both came from higher up. Wayyy higher up.

• This does tell me something about the Cordonian court in general. This is a poisonous place. We know that. But now we also know that this is a place that can make decent people like Bastien and Penelope do terrible things. I’m amazed at the backbone Liam and Drake must both have not to be sucked in.

• Drake seems spectacularly calm for a man who’s just realised his sister got knocked up by Maxwell’s older brother.

• The scene with Savannah was lovely, but Pixelberry seriously needs child development lessons. No matter their age, Choices babies will always look the same, always be sitting, always have teeth. At least Barty’s appearance makes a little more sense than Luis’ (Elena’s sister’s kid in RoE). THAT kid apparently had teeth and started sitting as soon as he was born!! 😱

•

Considering your ancestry, Maxwell, I don’t doubt you would.

• I didn’t do the romance option for Drake, but I saw screenshots and I have to ask this…

What is it with Cordonian men and pinning girls to a door??? 😂😂😂

#the royal romance #trr book 2 #trr quick thoughts #quick thoughts #trr liam sweetheart there is an essay waiting for you this week #trr hana sweetheart there's one for you too #trr drake #trr maxwell #trr penelope actually you'll get one too this time!#trr bastien #trr savannah

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gefiltefishwhereareweonthis · 7 years

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Hi! I read your analysis of the political situation in Poland and I wanted to ask you: since Poland has lived under communism, could you maybe paint a picture of pros and cons of that for our Bernie-bros "friends"?! Because I don't think they ever read a description of an actual socialist or communist regime (not the manifesto, but an actual historical, real life representation). Thank you so much in advance and please take your time with the answer, doesn't have to be today, no rush

Pros… well they weren’t many, but cons were! this is gonna be a very long post.

Pos…

1. Everybody had a job. Everybody. If you were an adult wandering down the streets during the work hours, the police had the right to stop you and ask why you aren’t at work. The fact that there was basically no unemployment, gave people the financial security they needed. The fact that due to the shortage of products people were unable to spend their money in a way they wanted is another story.

2. Everything was state owned, (that actually also classifies as a con, but I’ll get to that later), so institutions like universities too. That implied that you didn’t have to pay to go to uni and actually that allowed to even out the chances for people from the rural areas to climb the social ladder. The motion that universities should be free of tuition fees prevailed to this day. Some time ago, the government was thinking about introducing tuition fees for the most popular and prestigious faculties, like law or medicine but the idea received so much backslash that the government retracted from introducing them, which is I think fair in a way, since I pay taxes that go to sustain roads and prisons, I don’t mind that some of the amount goes to unis. In fact, I’d pay even more if I knew that more of my tax money were allocated to unis.

3. Things like universal health care were a given. Everybody had the access to a hospital or a doctor and that notion is very deeply rooted in the society to this day. The outcome is that today in Poland, nobody dies because they can’t afford health care or medicine. Some of the meds are even refunded by the state now.

Cons.

1. Everybody had a job. That means, that people were forcefully employed even if their job position was not necessarily lucrative or contributing to the finances of the company. So it resulted in people going to work and doing nothing for 8 hours, standing around the whole day, or drinking on the job. Yes. You didn’t have to have any qualifications to get a job, so when the system changed those unqualified people who were not able to land a job, because suddenly the state owned companies where they worked collapsed and they didn’t even have any real skills needed in a new economic system.

2. Everything was state owned. So, everything was either over-funded and they were wasting money or underfunded and they were not developing the branches that should be developed in order for the country to thrive. This brings us to the third point of the…

3. …centrally planned economy. And that implied a few things: First, the lack of the financial discipline within the companies - that negligence actually left us with huge debts. At some point, to give the economy a kick, we had to borrow money from the Western countries, which we didn’t pay off until 2012 (SIC!). What is more, people running the companies were thinking along the lines of “the state will give me money anyway, so why should I care about optimizing the production to save some, right?”. Then, a centrally planned economy makes the economic system not flexible and adaptable to the changing factors, but still we mostly exported to USSR, which was also a centrally planned economy back then, so those guys could work things out between themselves if the production levels needed to be adjusted. Another effect of this, was the fading away of entrepreneurship as people were actually unable to set up their own companies with their own capital, that’s why when we transitioned in 1989, some “businessmen” even when they set up their own companies, actually did a very poor job of managing their companies, because they were not used to functioning in an open market economy with the state that actually requires you to pay taxes.

4. The lack of a sense of responsibility for a country as a shared good or value in its own right. It was always someone else’s responsibility, so I could vandalize the bus stop, because it didn’t belong to me. It was state owned. I didn’t have to care about not throwing litter to the ground because why should I care about a space that I share with other citizens? For example, facilities like sewage plant didn’t even existed, the whole country was just dumping their waste into the rivers, because who would think about the environment?? This country was not ours anyway, so… That approach actually transposed to this day, and while there are more and more people who feel that shared responsibility, and we definitely have more sewage plants now, there are still many ,many people who think that they don’t have to care, because for many many years it was like that, and that left them with the sense of powerlessness that does not necessarily motivate them to do something for the community they live in and change their lives for the better. or idk, manifest their need for change by going to the polls for example?

5. When we were under the communist rule, we were under the wings of USSR and while we did not succumb fully to them, still their presence in Poland was palpable. For example, most of the produced goods were exported to Russia so at some point the shops looked like that:

and people were living off the food stamps, like these:

These are the food stamps for meat. In the middle, you have the space to fill in your name and address, but that didn’t really mean that you’d get the meat if you went to the shop. Because it simply wasn’t delivered to the shop or if it was you had to queue for long hours with no guarantee that they had enough and when you finally make it to the counter, you’d get your portion:

This is actually a pic of a queue to the shop with alcoholic beverages, but it’s just to get you an idea of how long the queues were. Fun fact: people queued for days, for example my mum was taking shifts with her mum and her sister while my grandpa was at work. Sometimes people queued because the rumor had it that they would deliver “something” to the shop. Oftentimes, people didn’t know what that “something” was, but there was such a huge shortage of goods that they queued anyway because they could later sell it or exchange it for something else.

Another mechanism of the same vain functioned:

Now, people working in the companies that were producing goods at some point started to create the second “black market” meaning that they would “bring” some of the goods produced in their companies home, to either exchange it for something else or sell it on the black market. A lot of luxury goods like meat for example or a tv set, were sold under the counter illegally. If you had an aunt who had her own farm in the countryside, you were able to make a lot of money on selling meat and eggs alone, as such basic products were on shortage. Same when you owned a shop. For example if you owned a shop, and let’s say 4 tv sets were delivered from the production line, you put 2 on the counter and 2 under the counter to sell it on the black market, for example to your aunt or a friend of a friend who “ordered” it from you. These were very strange times, there was apparently a huge shortage of all the goods, and yet people had all the stuff they needed at home. Pretty neat, yeah? Well, apart from the toilet paper, but that was sometimes just not being produced. AT ALL.

Everybody was doing it and everybody knew that everyone else were doing it. Tell me, how a system that allows stealing the state owned goods is good for a society as a whole and useful in building the sense of respect towards the state institutions? People back then were thinking “well, the government is screwing us over, so why should we feel bad about us screwing the government over, too?”. It is visible to this day, when you still hear people of the oldest generation whining about paying taxes and generally contributing to the society as a whole. They think that the government is crap, and nothing’s gonna change anyway, so why should they care, why should they go vote… They still have their heads in the 80ties.

6. Lack of personal freedom, freedom of speech and well, being basically fed with propaganda from all places. We had Russian spies of KGB working in Poland, some people, in exchange of some goods or connections, colluded with the communist government and were spying on their neighbors and ratting on them to the government, if they thought that there was a chance that somebody could be a oppositionist. That really helps to build social trusts, doesn’t it? You could be thrown in jail and beaten to death for thinking differently. Well, Orwell really did a great job at explaining the communist mechanisms in his book ‘1984′. Sure, he paints an exaggerated picture, but the whole notion of The Party being always right and being very vehement about people who dared to say no, while oppressing people in the name of a mission to fulfill, which was constantly fulled by propaganda, and painting the reality in bright colors though the reality was so much different, is right on point. To this day, people are really distrusting towards each other, especially people who grew up in the communist times. Sayings like “You can count? Count on yourself” are still prevalent in the public discourse. What is more, you could not leave a country without the government knowing about it. Your passport was closed in a drawer in the governmental office, so if you wanted to go abroad you’d have to ask to have it, and still you could only travel within the borders of the Eastern Block.Things like vacations in Paris? It was very hard to get a permission to leave just like that, so many people just stayed in their own country - that created the xenophobia - in order to discourage people from fleeing or going away (because they didn’t really want to see people realize how screwed they are), they fed people with propaganda saying that the other countries are bad and that communism is superior, but people knew how bad they have it and that everywhere else, especially in the western countries, people’s lives are better, so the government, in order to retain people did everything possible to make people stay, ergo they made it extra hard for people to move around. At some point, they allowed people to go to Bulgaria on vacations and this was for many, the only chance to go abroad. (Bulgaria was a communist country, too back then).

7. They were elections held, but the candidates were elected by the Party so, it didn’t matter on who you voted, things would not change anyway. Some people think it’s the same under democracy, so that’s why the turnout for the elections in Poland is so low.

Pretty crazy, isn’t it? And it is just my common knowledge I acquired by talking to my parents and grandparents, and I’m pretty sure, it’s actually the tip of an iceberg and, have I investigated the matter further, I’d be able to give you even more crazy, inconceivable now for a citizen of a democratic country, details. Actually, I’ve recently bought a book entitled “Women, Communism and Industrialization in the post-war Poland” and once I’ve read it, I’ll probably add more to this post.

#Anonymous #Bernie Sanders #Bernie Bros

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