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biboomerangboi · 27 days
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Hua Cheng essentially cockblocking himself for possibly all of eternity will literally never not be the funniest thing MXTX ever wrote.
Xie Lian was pretty much completely in love with him the second he saw those lanterns (and completely oblivious about it) and then we get the wonderful first kiss underwater moment and Xie Lian is basically drawing hearts around Hua Cheng every time he sees him. While like quietly dying cause he literally has no idea what to do with it. Like at this point he doesn’t even really understand that he is head over heels totally gone for this man.
Until Hua Cheng is like I have a beloved I just haven’t won them over yet. Which he thinks is perfectly reasonable because his self esteem is the worst and he doesn’t understand how he could have won Xie Lian over yet. (He’s only on step 22 of his Marrying Dianxia 3000 step Master Plan ((that he debates throwing out on a regular basis because he doesn’t deserve to even dream about wanting Xie Lian)). So course he’s like yeah I have this wonderful noble beautiful beloved I just haven’t won them over yet wink wink nudge nudge.
But Xie Lian is like oh of course obviously I don’t deserve nice things and fuck I actually wanted him so badly I’m actually in love with him and now I will resign myself to never being happy for his sake. (Their combined self esteem is truly a so low it’s a hole in the ground which is hilarious because they think the other person is to good for them and unattainable forever because they literally have the same neurosis.) So he starts boxing up his feelings forever constantly wanting Hua Cheng and feeling guilty about it and literally dying inside because he wants Hua Cheng like he’s never wanted anyone.
Like essentially books 3 and 5 only happen because Hua Cheng has now cursed them both by saying he has a beloved because Xie Lian believes he isn’t wanted and therefore any nice thing Hua Cheng does is just him being nice and not Hua Cheng pulling out steps 23-34 of his plan thinking he still hasn’t won Xie Lian over. (He has he so has but he shot himself in the foot so badly it’s painful to read).
Like thank the Gods Hua Cheng is so unhinged and created the cave of 10000 Gods cause Xie Lian would literally be at his own wedding to Hua Cheng still convinced he wanted someone else and this was in fact a thing they were doing to solve a case together otherwise.
Like he needed something that unhinged to put 2 and 2 together otherwise he never would have caught on he’s Hua Cheng’s beloved. Meanwhile Hua cheng is like 🥺 he’s going to think I’m a weirdo now and I’m only on step 50 of the plan 🥺 like the two of them wouldn’t have been fucking nasty 2 books ago if he just kept his mouth shut and didn’t cockblock himself so violently.
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spacedace · 1 year
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Okay but the Justice League finds out their new baby hero teammate Phantom is the Ghost King by virtue of the Fright Night showing up while they're in the middle of a meeting, looking terrifying and such and scaring the shit out of everyone- even more so when Constantine starts freaking out over the fact that the sworn night of the King of the Infinite Realms is in the Watchtower what the fuck that's apocalyptically bad Pariah Dark is supposed to be locked the fuck up forever - but instead of trying to smite them all or yeet them into the nightmare dimension he just pulls out a space themed packed lunch??? And gives it to Phantom??
And the mildly eldritch giant murder ghost is talking about how "The Queen Mother commanded me to ensure you ate my Lord, she says you missed your morning meal."
And Phantom is just grumbling about over protective sisters and "there's a cafeteria i would have been fine" what the fuck is happening right now?
What do you mean "oops you forgot" Phantom I thought the ghost thing was just a theme!
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bloodandthestars · 10 months
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・✧ — 𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
tags: NO SPOILERS!, antihero! reader? i guess?, mention of blood, takes place before across the spider-verse, will be edited, one mention of something sexual but nonetheless mdni anything else I’ll let you read to find out <3
author’s note: helllooooo everyone! this is the longest thing i’ve written for my blog yet. he’s been rotting my brain heavily and i needed it to spill out somewhere. do let me know if you enjoy what’s implied and if you’d like more. a lil vague incase there is a future series. I love this but at the same time……anyways- translations and taglist are at the bottom of the post. enjoy!
wc: 4.5k :: masterlist next
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BZZT. BZZT.
“Miguel,” You purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“It’s Important.”
It always was. “…And what kind of call is this?”
“Work-related.”
You hum. “Pity.”
“You still have ways into Oscorp?”
“Always do.”
“Good, I got a job for you. Meet at the usual spot at 9.”
A chill runs down your spine from the light wind passing through the night. You awaited your contract atop the Alchemax building, looking down at the neon lit city below. It was bright with cybernetic blues and greens, every now and then you could hear a hover car or two whirl by, only to miss it blend into the rest of the blurs flying by. The sight could never bore you, not in how it could change every day. That was the nuance of Nueva York, after all. Nothing ever rests, not even the wicked.
Nor the man that lands behind you with a thud of his feet and a slight grunt. He walks to your side in silence, taking in the city as you do. The sharp points of his eyes narrow. “You’re sure you’ll be able to get in this time?”
You turn to send him a look. Your hand raises as a drive twirls around your finger. “If you thought I couldn’t, you wouldn’t have hired me.”
He lets out a dry huff you take as amusement. His head turns to look at you. “Alright, you got me there.”
You barely catch the way his hand flies out to grab the device from your hand. His reflexes were always quick, but in this rare moment, you were just a bit quicker. Your hand is mere centimeters away from his in the air, catching you both in surprise. Your shocked expression slowly turns to one of accomplishment. His mask shifts, but knowing him, he was deadpanning under it. You chuckle, placing the drive in a pouch among many holstered onto your thigh. His eyes drag up from it’s placement to your eyes. You place a hand to your hip. “You ready?”
He places a foot to the edge of the roof. “Will you be able to keep up?”
Now it was your turn to huff, placing a prepared foot out as well. “Always.”
He gives you a final look, a lingering one you can’t quite place your finger on. He takes off and you’re quick to follow. The route felt routine to you both at this point, jumping over small spaces between buildings that eventually begin to stretch in distance. Your feet rush in a dash, swiftly jumping over over air conditioners. Miguel takes to running on the side of the buildings before webbing back to the rooftops alongside you. The two of you move when a roof entrance divides you, the heroine using his webs to ease his momentum after jumping over another conditioner back to your side. You slide under piping, coming up to jump in unison to the final rooftop. He lands on his feet, while you need to roll to slow yourself down. Both of you rise at the same time, looking up to the greenly lit skyscraper with geometric lettering spelling ‘OSCORP’ on its side.
“Which floor?”
He responds with a nod to the higher top of the building. “84th.”
You tilt your head to think. “We’ll have to climb the back side of the building. There are enforced windows starting at level 80.”
You feel a hand on your waist, causing your head to whip in his direction. You had to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes. “Thought you said this was work-related?”
“Hush, descarada. You know what I’m doing.”
You roll your eyes, discontent with him ruining your fun. You hook your leg at his waist and he moves his hand to lower back to keep you stable. With one arm he’s able to secure you at his hip. You hook your arms around his neck and you both look up at each other. Curse how close he is and the way his voice gets low to affirm to you. “You good?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
His free hand shoots out a web, not wasting time with flying through the air. No matter how many times you’ve swung with him during an operation, your grip still tightens around him in a sudden jolt once you’re flying through gravity. The rush used to take your bones in a wave of nausea, but now it’s all adrenaline that flows through your body. You hoped that was why your heart quickened just then.
Miguel goes by your instructions, swing to the back of the building. From there, he gets you both to the windows of the 80th floor. You let out a breath of relief at the emptiness of the lab. Pulling your gadget from your other thigh holster. It had a metal hook at its end and with one push of a button, it closes in its claws for something thinner with a green light atop it. Your thumb rolls back the dial on its side, clicking another button. In a green flash, the two of you are inside the lab floor, silent and desolate. Your gadget goes back to your thigh, turning over your shoulder for any signs of trouble.
“Are you ever gonna tell me where you got that thing?”
You turn to look at him, a playful shrug rolling off your shoulders. “You looking to buy one?”
He sets his hands in the air, immediately shaking his head. “Nevermind-”
“I mean if you really are looking to, I can get you set up-”
���No, no, I already know wherever you got it, I don’t need nor do I want to know.”
You let out a quiet laugh. “Miguel? Breaking one of his rules— what was it again?” You place a hand under your chin. “Oh yes, ‘don’t ask questions’?”
“And you’re all the more reason why the rule still applies.”
You both reach the emergency stairs however, a handprint was needed to unlock the door. You pull a small glowing blue rectangle that looks similar to glass. A press of your thumb and a hologram emits from it. You give it a swipe, the image shifting through dozens of handprints. You stop at a familiar bulky one. Facing the glass device to the lock, it takes the holographic limb into its code and clicks to unlock.
“How does it know it’s real?”
“You lurk around the underground long enough, and you’ll see that people are in the market for all kinds of things.” You place the glass back into your pocket. “Holographic or fake skin included.”
Miguel raises a brow— not to say it wasn’t possible. He’s sure that with the right elements, tools, it could be possible. But how people got ahold things like that weren’t out of the highly advanced labs he worked in, he didn’t know. The thought only made his stomach turn. Maybe he should stick to his own rules.
You both head up the steps, going from level 80 to level 84. From the window of the door, the two of you peer out to see an empty floor. It was safe to say that it seemed too easy. Only a few guards patrolling up and down in their routines. You look to Miguel, who looks right back at you. You shrug. “There’s always a patrol going on.”
He looks back to the glass. “Seems more than usual.”
“Maybe it’s because they’re starting to notice a few things going missing.”
“….Maybe.”
You tilt your head at him. “What? You can’t take them?”
His head turns to you, the red of his mask narrowing. “I can take them.”
You smile at his annoyed tone, patting his strong shoulder.
The hallway is silent for the six guards on duty tonight, say for the air conditioner buzzing in the background. Guns are held strong in their grip, pacing back and forth in their routine.
THWHIP!
Three lines of webs block the muzzles of three guns. The guards get tense, looking up to see where the webs came from. They didn’t have time to think, much less act— the lines steal their weapons from their hands, clanking to the ground along with a guard. The other three guards turn, only for their muzzles to be stuffed with webs as well. You slide past the first three, going for the second row. In your hands were clear cut batons, whacking at two guards’ knees. Your baton lets out a hard crack from an upper cut from below and dropping a guard in an instant. You use your hand to balance yourself as your calves lock around the other guard’s neck. You flip him down to the ground, landing you in a kneeled position to throw your baton into the nose of the final upcoming guard.
With a hard smack, he goes to the ground. You stand on your feet, walking over to grab the baton. You turn to Miguel, who’s got his three guards tied up. You look down to the baton, a red liquid causing your stomach to fall. Turning back, you see the guard’s nose as the source. Panic settles in your head, until you see his chest rise and fall. You let out a sigh of relief, quickly wiping the blood off of on the latex of your thigh. You look up to see Miguel, who finally turns to you after you it clean. You share a look to each other before you shrug. “Poor bastards.”
You both begin walking to down the hall to the entrance when he responds. “Never saw it coming.”
The steel doors greet you with shiny meshed reflections of your bodies. You use the holographic glass again, and the doors slide open with a cool hiss. The lab was vast, with a control center in the middle with scaled monitors larger than you both. They light the space in a light blue hue spreading to its very corners. You both approach the system after a cautious walk.
“Think it’s my turn to show off.” The spiderman pulls his wrist device into view, displaying a small gold hologram and pressing away at data.
You lean back with the computer behind you, arms crossed. “Oh really?”
“Mhm.”
“Was I showing off before?” You ask with a playful tone.
He huffs at your words, tapping away until his tech. After a moment, his hand goes out. You know he wants the drive, but making things easy for him was never something that entertained you. Your finger raises with the drive’s key ring around it, waving it. “Please?”
“Do you take anything seriously?”
“None of that sounded like please.”
You sense another deadpan across his face. You roll your eyes, throwing into his grasp. “Don’t act like you’re not familiar with the word, now.”
He starts a little, whipping his head back to the computer system. You hear him grumble under his breath, something along the lines of “-mierda, me llevarás a la tumba-”
It causes you to let out another laugh for the night, a sound that he’s gotten used to.
You watch as he plugs the drive into an insert in the computer’s system. Various windows of information pop up on the monitors, lines of words you don’t exactly understand in a quick scan from your eyes before it vanishes. It wasn’t your job to know anyhow. Whatever a client needed, whatever he hires you for, is a trade of information for his eyes only. That never stopped your curiosity however.
You look away, eyes set to the steel doors. A ponding in your chest for the unexpected, only soothed somewhat with his company next to you in the long moment of silence.
The look on your face soon narrows as he’s still at work. “Almost done?”
“Yeah, just waiting for it to give me access.”
“To?”
“A chip.” He states plainly.
You open your mouth to ask more questions, only for you to be stopped by his body tensing. You raise a brow to him and you follow his line of sight back to the steel doors. The two of you remain eerily still, awaiting what was the cause for his tension. It was quiet, but you knew better than to trust that over his enhanced senses. You both glance to each other with caution.
You start. “Is someone-”
He tenses much worse this time, on guard in a flash. “Yes, they’re outside the door with-!”
The doors open and from its crack is thrown a silver canister. As soon as it hits the ground, a clouded air is released. Your nerves feel like they’ve gone ablaze. A hiss cuts into your thoughts, causing you both to turn to the computer. A capsule releases from system, and you grab what you assume is the chip he needs. The smoke only grows larger in size. Before you can say a word, he gets close, a hand over your nose and mouth. He tells you in a low voice of urgency. “Behind the computer, now.”
You both move quickly, his hand still atop your face. Placing your backs to the monitors, you try and take a moment to regain your mind for a plan. It’s difficult when you feel your heart try to rip out of your chest. Your eyes glance up to him as his body remains close to yours, an ear out to the approaching sounds.
“We’re going to have to-”
A clank sound interrupts him as another canister lands right in front of you both. Smoke begins to seep out of it at a rapid pace. Your throat began to burn, eyes watering as you tried to force down a cough. It was no use, you erupt with the sound out of reflex. He looks to you. “Don’t-”
His spider senses take in the next one being thrown and shoves you to the other side of the lab. He kicks the second one far from either of you. When the third one flies in the air, a web grabs hold of it and throws it back over the computer, where grunts and yells could be heard. In the mists of getting control of your vision, you hear him yell to you. “Go! The stairs!”
You scrape up to your feet, and the last thing he sees of you is your fleeing backside.
Miguel was a natural in situations under pressure. He had been in labs with mixtures of chemicals that would have to be settled in seconds, fought against robots and maniacs. He could handle this.
His face remained focused, shooting out webs as soon as an idea flew through his head. The sticky components lands on a lab stool, and with a grunt, he swings it into the back of the computer monitor. It flickers in its blue light, cracking and falling in the way of the assailants. He turns, eyes darting around the environment. His eyes light up to the emergency exit, with no other choice but to push through it.
A climb of walls, a sling from webs up the steps, and the Spider-man busts the rooftop door. Whirls of technology snap his attention to what’s in front of him— light blaring in his face with a large amount of guards surrounding him.
Miguel was a natural in situations under pressure. He’s done plenty of operations, fought when the world was a blur around him hundreds of feet in the sky. A wave of guards what a slight to his determination, but his mind…was elsewhere. He removes most of their weapons out of the equation, taking them in clusters with his webs. He lands a punch here, and slam with his glowing webs there. He had yet to see you or hear you yell out to him. Hand to hand combat increased, blows getting harder in their impact, grunts slipping past his lips out of increasing frustration. It felt like there was no end in sight, not that it mattered anyhow. His mind felt as though it was sinking in the tangled ropes of his paranoia. The longer time went by, the more restless Miguel got and the more determined he was to get through his enemies with vigor.
“I GOT IT!”
You shout from across the rooftop, the chip in your clasped hand. A red and blue mask turns to in your direction, relief washing over him like a flood. Between you both were many henchmen flooding from the roof’s entrance, all set to standing in your way. He nods to you through the chaos, and you nod back. The two of you run on the sidelines until you hear Miguel faintly shout. “Get over here!”
“Working on it!” You shout back. Eyes dart through the growing group of goons to find a clear path. His eyes are set on you the whole time, watching your face as the cogs go to work.
Your eyes squint, heart beating out of your chest, but you have a plan— somewhat. You knee one person out of the way, moving through the space to shove through a few more. Two step right in front of you. Not losing your momentum, you sweep your leg under one of them and use that same leg to balance the other into a high kick. It creates somewhat of a clear path for you, trying to get closer and closer to the man you’ve been working with all night. You catch a glance of him pummeling through a few men, giving you a slight of relief and all the more determination to pull through.
You’re almost there, goons try to grasp at your suit, tools, or mask, and you’re barely able avoid their invasive touches. You waste no time pulling out your hooked tool, clicking a button to throw out a long thick wire. It wraps around the ankle of a man and you pull hard. He falls, knocking into others like pins as he’s dragged across the concrete. Your path has never been more clearer. You click your wire back into your tool, eyes catching Miguel’s.
He takes out one more enemy before jumping off of the roof. Your feet quicken, taking after him and taking your leap.
The skyscraper’s height furthered your velocity downward. Wind blew into your face, strong in its force. Your tool wouldn’t be far enough to reach the buildings surrounding you. Your body reacted, stomach twisting and turning in an effort to scream at you the very danger you were in. But you? You calmly shut your eyes.
In an instant, a strong arm catches you as intended. You open your eyes, hooking your arms around his neck to secure yourself to his body. You squeeze the device you both needed into your palm to confirm your grip. With one hand, he swings from building to building to ensure some distance between you and Oscorp. After a few more buildings, Miguel slows down to a roof with a large neon sign right at its front. The momentum fades, allowing you both to land behind the bright lettering.
You pull away from his side, hands going to your hips as you caught your breath. Your chest rises and falls with rough exhales while he was silent in gathering his own air. After a while, you catch his voice speaking to you. “You still have it?”
You swallow, nodding and throwing the device to him. He catches it with ease. His large fingers examine the data card. Gold lines so microscopic but filled with the intelligence needed for his work to protect others. He slips it away into an empty wrist capsule, eyes flickering back up to you.
You placed your back against the sign only a few steps away from him, chest slowing to normalcy. Your eyelids were low, lashes soft in their curl. He gains his focus back when your irises appear from them.
“How many times do I have to catch you staring for you to realize you’re terrible at being subtle?”
Your teasing words cause his mask to shift, knowing all too well he was displaying his usual frown. “I can be subtle. You, on the other hand, can’t turn on a filter if you had one.”
An amused smile appears on your face, causing another sudden wave of relief over him. You take a glance to the sky before looking back at him. “Yeah, but that hasn’t kept you away now has it?”
Miguel grunts, and you turn your head away with a laugh.
The back of the neon sign behind you illuminates strongly in the night, red light seeping through the crevasses of the letters to give your vision clarity. Your body regained air in your lungs but the bruising was beginning to ache from your complications from getting to the roof. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Miguel’s arm holding his side. Your brows scrunch together. Just what was so important to risk a hailstorm raised on them from Oscorp? You knew from your previous encounters, that he wasn’t just hitting the large corporation, but any place with the highest level of technology in the city.
You begin after a beat of silence. “I mean, I can’t have some idea of what you get from the jobs you-?“
“No, you don’t”
Your eyes turn to a glare. “Watch that tone.”
“You know, you being demanding isn’t exactly an ease to deal with-”
“Would you like to do something about that?” You take a step closer, looking up to his tall stature. Your gaze is set to where his eyes were, feeling his eyes look directly back at you.
“I..” His brows knit together. You know what you meant, he knew what you meant. It takes him a second to speak with a retort, locking his jaw. “…not here.”
You purposely look to his masked lips, then back to his eyes. “…Thought so.”
Miguel takes a hard and long swallow, shutting his eyes.
"So, what's the deal with that chip?" You ask.
Miguel opens his eyes when he clears the clouding in his mind. Not fully, but enough to attain what you asked. He hesitates for a moment before responding. "It's...complicated. Let's just say it's valuable and leave it at that."
You raise an eyebrow, sensing there's more to the story. "Valuable how?"
Miguel shakes his head. "I can't say. It's not safe."
You cross your arms. “What we did tonight, or what we do every other night for that matter, isn’t safe either.”
“I know that but-” He lets out a sigh of frustration, his mask fading off his face in squares of blue light. Words never were his strong suit and his paranoia didn’t help his case on which words to choose. Or for you to know what he has planned. You were different, he knew that. And yet, he still eyed you with caution. It was in his nature.
You look him the eye, knowing he was weighing his options in his head. His jaw relaxes, voice settling into a softer tone. “I’m doing what I’m doing to protect people. All the things I’ve had you get? They help with that. You know I’m not- building some criminal empire or making some kind of genetic super weapon-”
“Really? Because those were only two of my theories-”
“I’m not-” To others, they would take his tone as immediate annoyance. But you know it’s laced with a slight of amusement that immediately disappears.
He hopes it’s enough to satisfy you, to keep you out the possibilities of pulling into a growing web of complications. But he knew you just as much as you did him, both akin to an unshakable stubbornness.
“I think you can do better than that.” You step forward into his space again. His larger stature is unmoving, but he could feel warmth radiate from your body at the familiar closeness. His eyes go down to yours, crimson irises slowly loosing their sharp edge the longer your gazes are on each other.
“We said we don’t owe each other anything…no matter what we do with one other. And I get that.” You tilt your head at him. “But if more jobs end like tonight, and I can barely catch an escape-“
He’s quick to respond. “I won’t let that happen-“
“-But if,” You emphasize. “That starts to become an occurrence, I at least want to know exactly what I’m sticking my neck out for.”
He looks to your features, scanning over your unwavering expression. You can’t help but look at the way he presses his lips together. Miguel locks his jaw to think, perhaps he’d do so in order to keep the words from coming out. Eventually, he lets out a sigh. “A super computer.”
Your face scrunches, brow slowly going up. “A…super computer?”
He mutters, still looking down at you. “Yes.”
“To protect people?”
“To protect people.”
His voice was firm, supposedly closing the door as quickly as it opens. You study him, trying to go over your past jobs to try to piece an explanation together. Sadly, you couldn’t. The path you’ve gone down, your lives beginning to intertwine like a binding threads— you knew that finding out what he was up to would be wary road.
Eventually letting out a sigh, you’re disappointed but understanding. "That’ll do I suppose.”
He watches you take a step back from him, back leaning against the sign. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that he follows suit. You both look out to the vast city, lights greeting your wandering gaze once again. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you speak up. "You know, for someone who's always so serious, your fleeting sense of humor is enjoyable.”
Miguel huffs, chuckling soon after. "Is that your way of saying I'm not as boring as you thought?"
You grin, a sight he appreciates after your tenacious standstill. "Oh I’ve never found you boring. In need of a good fuck to let loose? Definitely.”
Miguel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of enjoyment in his tone. "I'm plenty loose when I need to be."
You laugh. "Sure you are. That's why you're always so tense."
Miguel smirks. "I'm not tense. I'm focused."
You give him a playful shove. "Whatever you say, Spider-man."
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translations: descarada (minx), mierda, me llevarás a la tumba (fucking hell, you’ll be the death of me)
taglist: @manchuria @mezzke @rea-zxv @vvitcxen @pooiooi @jowtaro @coleseyebrows
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illuminatedferret · 3 months
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Rereading the start of Book 2 is fucking fascinating because 1. how Mu Qing is treated by everyone but Xie Lian boils my blood, but also 2. I cannot believe there are people who think Xie Lian is naive and ignorant of the world after reading what he says and thinks during those first few chapters alone. He is so persistently considerate and sensitive to power imbalances and the abuse of power even before he """stops being naive""".
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rebouks · 1 month
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Previous // Next
Hey Bird Boy!
I promised I’d write didn’t I? I’m missing you already, which is kinda stupid and cheesy, but true! There aren’t any other kids around now the holidays are over, so it’s just old people and super outdoorsy people who walk really fast with weird sticks and stuff, lame! Daddy lent me his crappy polaroid he uses for work so I can send you pictures and stuff so at least I’ve got something to do, they won’t be as good as yours but it’s better than nothing.
I tried to get a good picture but it’s hard to hold this huge thing with one hand and this is the best I could do but my teeth are totally starting to grow back so maybe I won’t look so dumb soon.. you can’t really see em but I can feel em poking through!!! It kinda hurts but I suppose we only have to grow em once so it’s not so bad. Growing teeth as a baby doesn’t count cos you can’t remember it.. how many teeth does your little sister have?!
I’m super looking forward to getting to know you properly since I can ask you stuff now! I’ll try n remember to ask you things instead of talking about myself the whole-time cos that’d be annoying to reply to, wouldn’t it?
By the way.. I took a bunch of pictures of my dad until I caught him laughing just to show you that he can be fun and nice, not always grumpy! He thinks he looks cool with his gold teeth but I think they make him look goofy, like a wannabe pirate haha!! YARRR!
I set Amber free cos I started to feel bad about keeping her cooped up in that tiny plastic box and I don’t think I’d like it if I were her, like how I’m starting to hate this stupid tower! I miss looking at her but I decided to start collecting fancy rocks instead since they’re not alive and don’t have any feelings. Dad digs up stuff for work sometimes so it makes total sense!! He said I’m not allowed to join him for that but we can do it on our own instead.. he bought me a big pretty one to start my collection, even though it’s kinda like cheating it still counts!
We found a birdwatching book stuffed in the back of the bookshelf looking for this notebook and dad said we should put some food out to see which ones we could spot.. they attacked him whilst he was putting the seeds out though so he said it was a stupid hobby and that he didn’t want to do it anymore. GET READY FOR THIS!!!
Ahahahahaahaaa I almost dropped his camera laughing at him and he took it off me for a couple days but it was totally worth it, please please pleaaaaase keep this picture cos I almost didn’t wanna send it to you so I could laugh at it forever and ever hahahaha!!!!
Oh, and I told daddy to take some pictures of me whilst I wasn’t looking like you do cos I thought it’d be neat, but I forgot I asked him to do it and got mad at him cos I was in my pj’s and my hair was all crazy.. it’s kinda funny I GUESS!! Plus, he said it made us even for me sending you the picture of him with the birds so here you go BUT DON’T KEEP THIS ONE!!
I got carried away and forgot to ask you stuff so here’s a list!
How old are you?
When’s your birthday?
Do you have any pets?!
What’s your favourite food?
Do you have all your big teeth yet? (it totally looked like it but you never know!!)
I was gonna think of more stuff to ask you and now the back of this page looks really empty but my brain farted and I really wanna send you this so you can send one back! I’ll think of more I promise!! I’m looking forward to “talking” to you so I guess you can write about whatever you want.. and I wanna see your house!! I bet your pictures will be way better than mine!
Yours excitedly, Alex :]
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lazycranberrydoodles · 9 months
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ughhhhh so probably the tgcf scene i think the most about is in the final battle when hua cheng is holding xie lian and backwards gripping eming with his other hand i . god. this is referenced off of The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel (i’m pretty sure everyone has seen it by this point) which is surprisingly pretty topical for tgcf.
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katapotato55 · 9 months
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how to make your writing be remembered forever and possibly be well loved.
(incredibly stupid and silly fanfiction line at the end of this post) I know that title is incredibly daunting but listen, its very simple. you ready?
MAKE STRONG CHARACTERS
"but kat! surely its not that simple! " nononono listen. bear with me. I want you to think of your favorite thing. Now ask: what do you remember the most about the thing you love? I will go first:
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I love team fortress 2. and guess what: this game has been around since 2007, and was in development hell since before I was even born. The game has been around for 16 fucking years. And guess what? in the strong year of 2023 team fortress 2 Is STILL getting memed about. and do you want to know the crazy part? the character designs to the naked eye are not special at all. ok sure from a designer standpoint, these are very well designed characters made so that you can easily tell who they are based on their silhouette. but from the average joe.... tf2 is iconic but overall it looks ok. it doesn't seem special to a stranger to tf2. look at this completely random and arbitrary example of a game in the same genre:
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I don't know shit about the characters in overwatch. Yeah i have a BASIC idea on what their personality is like based on voice lines and some videos i guess... but in-game they just exist. these characters are brightly colored, they have beautiful unique designs, hell they have even more diversity such as robots and people from other cultures! but i don't remember shit about these characters. Maybe I remember the ice lady and tracer, but nothing else. and yeah part of overwatch struggling right now is incompetant development, BUT: The characters in team fortress 2 are SO remember-able because the characters have such a vibrant personality. I am an orange box owner, its been a decade and a half and I am still remembering this game and enjoying art about it.
"but kat! that is a comedy game! Overwatch is a very serious game! are you saying comedy is needed to make a character more noticeable?" no. though I think allowing your characters to lighten up every now and then would humanize them. Not full on goofy, just give them something that makes them likeable. and if you cant do that, you can STILL make a compelling character even though they are mostly seriousness. I have an even more awfully thought out example:
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kung fu panda is a masterclass in making a serious comedic movie somehow work. Master Oogway.... he isn't a comedic character at all. Yeah we made memes about him, but ignoring that, he is a wise and resourceful person. He is at calm and has faith in this intuition. there are a lot of characters like this. What makes Oogway stand out is that he is also a little bit kooky and sassy.
youtube
this youtube clip sums up what I mean. It is a funny line, it fits the character, and It doesn't ruin the seriousness of the moment. Some of the most successful series in history have something about them that has appealed to people. In my opinion: characters with strong personality and interesting traits is always a good way to ensure your writing is successful. The second most important is the characters bouncing off of each other in terms of their chemistry with each other. There is a reason why I spent years playing the first Destiny game and all of the DLC, but I remember fuck all about the characters. I think I maybe remember the bootleg star lord robot guy.
A writing exercise
here is an exercise to get you in the spirit of character making. step 1- get a random character from a random bit of media. In this case let me bring you master Oogway. Step 2- Get a completely different character from a completely unrelated series. I am going to give you Scout from team fortress 2. step 3- write a random ass thing about them interacting. Think about how the characters would react to each other and why. Think about each characters values in life and think about how they would bond and conflict with each other. Think about characters similar to the character they met in the past and how they reacted then, and if they have never interacted, make something interesting with it. Step 4- keep experimenting. Once you get into the spirit you can apply this to any new character you could want to make anyways thats it byeee- "arent you going to do that ?" do what? "make a writing thing about oogway and scout. " ........
Scout: let's go turtle you got nothing on my speed- Oogway: The one who first resorts to violence shows that he has no more arguments. Scout: that sounds like chicken talk! come on tough guy let me have it- Oogway then proceeds to make scout eat shit before vanishing in a cloud of cherry blossoms and dust from the desert. If this post isn't popular I want you to know my dignity was lost for nothing.
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lorelune · 7 months
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braised
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|| blade x reader || M || captive reader x necrobiome blade || wc: 3.2k  || ao3 || previous + next ->
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The Stellaron Hunters and their newest prize settle in and find routine.
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minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni
a/n: HELLO >:3c this lil story has me gripped!! this piece is meant to be read after "scrap metal" but can be read as a standalone. mind the tags and enjoy 💕
CW: dark content, captive/pet reader, violence, implied/partially depicted physical abuse, force-feeding, general talk about food and eating, thoughts of violence toward the reader
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"They didn't eat again."
Silver Wolf tosses the metal bowl on the counter with a frown. It’s full, heaped with eggs, kixi wafers, and some yogurt-based sauce. It’s untouched, sauce gelatinized from being out in the open air.
Kafka clicks her tongue from the cockpit, pausing her scrolling. Her gaze flicks up, "Not a bite?"
"Nope." Silver Wolf frowns and fidgets. "They didn't even look at me when I gave them their lunch either."
"They haven't eaten since the day before yesterday then. That’s no good." Kafka sounds concerned, but there's an edge to it.
Blade feels antsy. Out of his skin. He doesn't know why.
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“They haven’t been drinking much either.” Silver Wolf frowns. “They’ll shrivel up and die at this rate." 
Kafka nods, "That’s more than likely their intention, even if it's a long and foolish way to die. That’s a shame. I thought they'd be better than this."
Blade drums his stiff fingers over the hilt of Shard Sword. He hardly remembers summoning it. 
"Bladie, dear? Try and convince them to have a bite or two tonight." Kafka's attention almost drifts back to her phone before she meets his eyes. Her own are clear, pupils intact. "Be careful, though. Hungry pets will still bite the hand that feeds them."
Blade doesn't reply with anything other than a jerky nod. He ferries himself across the ship to a padded training room and shreds two dozen practice dummies until they're nothing more than piles of polymer leather and filler.
...
Kafka had implemented a rotation. A 'feeding schedule' to acclimate you to your new environment, and get you used to your new comrades. You’re pricklier than she originally anticipated, but she doesn't seem concerned.
(If anything, she seems... delighted. She has a spring to her step that she usually doesn't. She leaves your room glowing.)
It’s Blade's turn to bring you dinner. Your meal is piled into the same metal bowl. Heaps of rice, covered in a sticky sauce with chunks of meat and veg. It’s still steaming as he walks silently to your cell— room. cell. He's not sure.
He undoes each lock (seven) and enters your room without any announcement.
The room is... less destroyed than it was yesterday. When Blade brought you lunch the day before, your mattress had been dragged onto the floor, sheets torn to shreds and spread around the room. You’d thrown a book at his head when he'd entered.
(Which he caught and gave back to you. You looked terrified when he got at all close to you.)
Blade didn’t like it. And he isn't sure why.
Today, you're less frantic. Instead, you’re balled up on your mattress, tucked in a corner with your knees up. Your head is down. You only flinch when Blade enters, but don't regard him otherwise.
Blade's frown deepens.
"Dinner," he says, and sets the food on your nightstand. Kafka has replaced the diffuser you broke the day prior. A new one pumps out an herbal-scented mist. "Eat it."
"Just leave it,” you reply, voice scratchy and raw. You rarely speak to him.
"No. Eat it now."
"I will later."
"You won't. You aren't eating."
"And what's it to you?" You unfurl just a fraction and shoot him a glare. It’s angry. vitriolic and guarded. (But a scared stray will bear its teeth and bite, won't they?)
(What is it to Blade? Other than Kafka's order. There’s something there. There has been something there since he saw you muzzled and dead-eyed, and Blade's always half-aware of it. How it refracts and shudders and fills him with such intense unease. He knows the feeling— recognizes it like the scent of an old lover. But he does not like it. It does not feel like it is his.)
He’s struck with the particular urge to throw you against a wall and watch your skull splatter against the metal paneling.
He doesn't. Because his mara isn't that uncontrollable, not now anyway. Instead, he frowns at your scowl.
"You'll die if you don't eat."
"Ah, and if I die, you'll lose an asset, right? I'm not stupid, I know how these things work." You sound... almost petulant. Blade does not know how to approach you, or it, or this attitude.
"You'll die. You shouldn't die. You should eat and live."
"Fuck you." You snap at him, fist balling up in the sheets at your side. You've picked your nails short and raw. "Fuck you."
Blade doesn't know what to do.
He pushes the bowl closer to you on the nightstand before departing.
Kafka catches him as he heads to the training rooms (again, because he needs to shatter a few holograms with his bare fists if he wants to feel close to sane in the next few hours.)
"Any luck, lovely?" Kafka's expression is kind. She must already know.
"No."
Kafka sighs, and shakes her head. "I'll take care of it, Bladie. I suppose we’ll have to do things the hard way.”
...
Kafka is the one to bring you breakfast the next morning. Blade does not normally keep track of Kafka's morning routine, because she is insane, but considering it involves you, he's more keen to it. Kafka prepares a light breakfast of garlic and shash rice, and secondarily, a shake of greens and nutrient powder.
(He... he thinks he knows the substance. Recognizes the acrid, must-driven smell of it, and remembers how awful it tastes. Like bile mixed with metal shavings. Who knows where Kafka acquires it from. He has smudged out memories of choking it down when Kafka first pulled him out of a crater, covered in blood and scarred— but not dead. Never. Never, never dead— )
Blade fractiously goes to your room and waits outside your door. Kafka is still inside when he arrives, speaking to you in that sweet, syrupy tone that drips into muscle and bone like molten metal.
"You need to eat, darling."
"Fuck you—"
"The more you fight, the harder this will be. Why don't you be good and let me help?"
"Don’t fucking touch me—!"
There’s the muffled sound of a struggle, which Blade assumes isn’t much of a struggle because Kafka is far stronger than she looks. Blade leans against the wall, next to your door. He can feel vibrations of a fight in the soles of his shoes through the floor. The thump of a body hitting the wall echoes.
Blade hears crying. You’re crying.
"Oh, tears? I’ve hardly done anything."
"You’re fucking monsters. Just let me go—!"
"You know that won't happen. Play nice.”
"Don't—!"
You sob, probably, and there's another sharp sound of flesh on steel. Blade would've flinched if he wasn’t an abomination.
"Let me take care of you, sweetheart. The sooner you give in, the easier this is. This doesn't need to be difficult."
"Get off of me—!"
More struggling. Blade closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. Kafka is ruthless in getting what she wants. She knows how to pry people apart, pick at their inside, and pull strings until they fracture. It is why Elio is such a fan of hers. It is why Blade keeps her close, as she knows the delicate, bowstring dance of keeping his mara in check.
He wonders what Kafka sees in you.
(He wonders what he sees in you. You're nothing like— like— who? Who are you so different from?)
Blade has a headache.
The sounds echoing from your room dissolve into muffled sobs and the occasional sharp cough. A gag. Inhaling and what must be your fist beating against the metallic paneling of the floor. He hears Kafka hush you, over and over. Quietly praising you after each gag and retch.
Blade's not sure how long it goes on before things feel still and quiet.
The sound of a kiss, audible, "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"... F-fuck you.
"Such a filthy mouth. Do you need me to wash your mouth out with soap? I'm happy too."
"Wait, don’t— no—“
Blade realizes his shoulders have hiked up. He forces them to lower. You scream and fight just feet away, really. All that separates you is seven locks.
Kafka seems to be handling things. The sounds continues, and become dull background noise. Shouts and pants fade into his thoughts as they get sap-sticky.
(Someone beloved, something far away. Bitter liquor on each other’s lips. Blade can’t recall the name.)
(A comet with a tail burning yellow. It is cold. A blade, driven into his chest. A blade stabbed into his eye. A blade put sidelong through his skull. A blade splitting his throat. Cold, cold, cold, cold.)
(Do you know cold? Do you know how frostbite turns flesh black? Do you know necrosis? What pain do you know?)
Blade, startlingly, does not want you to know pain. He wants you to eat your meals.
Kafka exits, almost startling him. She does not look surprised to see him hovering. She rearms the locks and glances at him from the corner of her eye.
“Down, loverboy. A scared dog will bite.”
“Do not call me that.” 
"Alright, alright,” she laughs and her grin grows sharper. “I’ll be taking care of their meals for the next few days. Listen, grab a medkit, the poor thing needs it. Though, I’ll let them hurt for a while first.”
Kafka walks off, and Blade follows at her heels. There are indentations in Kafka's gloves-- half-moon bite marks of teeth.
He decides he is going to break his own fingers, maybe. He can watch them heal back into place.
It’s meditative.
...
Several days pass with your ‘new routine’. Kafka handles each meal. Blade stays away from your room. The entire wing you’re located in feels nuclear. He stays in the training room. Throws himself at matted walls until his shoulders dislocate, only to pop them back into place to repeat the cycle.
He makes a point to check the kitchen after each of your meal times. There’s always an empty dish, a clean plate. A chunky-looking film left on a glass in the sink. Kafka is diligent, Blade doesn’t doubt this. 
The whole thing fills him with unease.
He asks Kafka to wipe his memory, but she denies him. She’s in the cockpit, swiveling in her seat.
“You don’t need that yet, Bladie. Give it some time.”
“But—”
“Discomfort isn’t mara suffocation, dear.”
“You’re patronizing me.”
She sizes him up, sighing, “Listen to me, keep it together. You’re alright. How about this, you can feed your pet starting tomorrow for lunch. Would that make you feel better?”
It would. He’s not sure why.”
“It would.”
Kafka looks pleased with the outcome of the conversation. She tells Blade to get some rest, pats his cheek, which does take the edge off the mara rooting around in his psyche for purchase. 
Blade takes a long route through the ship to his chambers. A deliberate path that brings him in front of your door. He doesn’t dare to enter, only listen. It’s late, you could be sleeping given the hour— but Blade can hear you shuffling around. Grumbling to yourself. One of your feet is dragging on the floor as you walk. Blade wonders how it was injured. 
He departs after hearing the shifting of your sheets, and the light under your door goes out.
(He feels insane. Insane in a way that isn’t mara-ridden, which is more terrifying. He knows the gnawing beast of Abundance that crawls around inside his skull and bones, he doesn’t know madness that has burrowed itself between his ribs. It feels light, like the carbonation bubbles in the bottled soda back on the Luofu. His palms sweat when he becomes aware of it with each thought of you.)
(Maybe he’ll try tearing out his organs again. That could fix it.)
Blade returns to his room and paces, before stripping and climbing into bed.
It’s only when he’s half-asleep that he realizes he’s hard.
He’s not sure why. 
...
Lunch is some takeout. It scalds his hands through the bowl he heaps it into. Braised trelk ribs with scallion and carrot, ladled over a bed of chewy-looking noodles.
"Bladie," Kafka tells him from the cockpit. She glances at him with a curling smile. "Be careful, they're sensitive."
Blade does not know how to be... careful. Not like how Kafka is implying he thinks anyway.
Silver Wolf snorts from her seat, speaking through a bite of noodle, "You’re asking a human-shaped hydrokenia bomb to be 'careful'?"
"Blade's a good boy, I'm sure he'll do great." Kafka's eyes are that spatial, nebula magenta. He feels pleasantly high when she looks at him. "Won’t you?"
"Yes."
Kafka looks pleased, "Listen, take your meal too. Eating with them will get them comfortable."
Silver Wolf raises an eyebrow, "Is that really a good idea?"
"I think so. Blade can handle it if they get testy."
She looks at him with a grin that's collapsed empires and immolated planets. Blade leaves the room with two bowls in his hands.
When he arrives at your cell— room. It's your room. He unlocks the locks methodically and enters without a greeting.
Today, you are not tucked in the corner of your bed. You’re instead perched in the rounded window, gazing at the starscape. Your knees are raised, and your arms are wrapped around yourself. You look small and defeated, eyes darkened and downcast. Blade watches you rub your shoulders.
You look up when he enters. Blade sets the bowl on the ledge next to you, and sets a pair of chopsticks on top, "You will eat."
It's not a command, but a statement of fact.
You scowl, looking so angry. Alive with it. He recognizes vitriol so easily. It's in your eyes and in the way you bare your teeth at him, ready to strike. Maybe you'll bite down on him, into him, until you taste blood. Blade's sure you wouldn't leave a scar— he heals too quickly from the types of flesh wounds to give him a lasting mark.
(There's something enticing about you trying. Blade does not know the floating, filmy part of himself that suggests such a desire.)
You carry Kafka's mark. There are bruises around your throat, the clear shape of hands. There are lumps across your jaw, darkened in color. Scratches of nails over your neck, down to your collarbones. Your eyes are red-rimmed. Your lip is split, barely scabbed over. You're shaking.
You open your mouth, ready to snap. Maybe you'll spit venom— Blade doesn't know your species. You could.
(Blade remembers your expression on different faces from the glitter of your canines. It reminds him— of—? Jingliu was colder. Frigid in her rage. Dan Feng was always so calm with his, Only shattered near the end, like a tide that swelled too high on the shore to swallow the world whole. Your expression is white-hot, like metal pulled fresh from a stoked forge. Desperation and terror make dull teeth sharp. Actions become erratic and desperate.)
(Blade has not remembered so much, so clearly in a long time. He really needs Kafka to wipe his memory again.)
The mara in him writhes. It’s a necrosis, a vitality that has long since sank into his marrow and will not leave. It rolls through him. Blades tips back his head and rolls his shoulders. There's a high to it, followed by an immediate and tumbling withdrawal and dread and clarity—
And it's all interrupted by the little gasp you make. The abrupt jolt you take backward, into the window, closer to the depths of deep space. Your body thumps against the glass. 
('Fragile', Kafka had said.)
Your mouth closes, and your bloody lower lip wobbles. Tears glitter on your lash line as you retreat. Maybe, Kafka broke you. She’s good at that. 
"Fucking— I-I mean, fine. I’ll fucking eat." You stumble over your words with a sniffle. Your voice is raw and strained. You rub your nose on your sleeve and scramble for the bowl and utensils.
Blade stares as you eat your first bite. Then your second. Followed by your third. You start crying after the fourth, sobbing with the fifth, and hiccupping between mouthfuls. You're eating too fast, occasionally looking at him with an expression he recognizes as terror. He's used to seeing a look like that at the end of his blade. Frozen before draining of blood and death.
He frowns. You should not look that way..
"Slow down," he says, sitting next to you.
You look at him and wipe over your mouth, lips parting, but seem to think better of speaking. You take another bite, chewing slower. Blade picks up his own bowl and eats small, meticulous bites.
(He shared a meal all the time. Shoulder to shoulder with Dan Feng, splitting casks of viridian wine in the moonlight. Food tastes better when someone you... like is near.)
You finish before him, and don't stop crying. If anything, you cry harder. It sounds painful.
Blade pauses his meal, idling. searching. There's something there. A feeling coated in the roots of mara, but... perhaps it's a delicious agony. Not so much a memory, but a want. Something other than— than what and why—
Blade stands. He departs to your bathroom (there are blood stains on the counter) and grabs a cloth towel. He dampens it with water, letting the sink run until it's pleasantly warm.
He sits closer to you when he returns. You flinch away in retreat, leer away as he comes close, hands up—
"Please, don't, what are you—"
"Hold still." Blade grabs your wrist and you wince.
With entirely conscious thought and great effort, he loosens his grip. And... gently, Blade brings the cloth to your face. He dabs around your eyes, then your cheek and nose, and lastly your mouth. you're frozen, wide-eyed, and still shaking.
When he's done, he grabs a blanket from the bed. He wraps it around your shoulders. It feels... somewhat right.
"You should rest." He tells you. "You need it."
Blade thumbs over a swollen round on your jaw. You tremble, eyes wide.
But maybe a little less scared.
"... Are you gonna stay while you finish eating?" You eye his half-full bowl.
"Yes."
"... 'kay... and you're not gonna rough me up like Kafka did?"
"No." He has no plans to.
"... Fine."
You cautiously make your way back to your little bed, sitting at the head of it, and half-slipping under the covers. It's... cute.
(Blade has not thought of anything as cute in several centuries.)
Blade wants to break your legs.
When he finishes, he collects both bowls, and looks around your room. It's sparse, though. There are a few books on the nightstand.
"... Are you bored?"
"Huh?" You ask. You'd been lost in thought, eyes lost. "Oh, I mean. yeah? There's not much to do."
"I'll bring some things. Bear it until then."
"Oh! Okay." You wrap the blanket around your shoulders tighter. "You're... Bladie, right?"
"Just Blade."
"Oh, okay. sorry." You wring your hands. "Thank you, Blade."
The thing in his chest blooms. A monstrous flower, mycelium under acres of land in a network that eats and never dies. Undergrowth that does nothing but rot and grow, grow and rot. 
Blade doesn't reply as he leaves the room. He gets halfway to the training wing before he has to pause, withdraw his phone, and send Kafka a frantic text: 'Meet me in the weaponry room.’
He pockets his phone before punching the wall. Clumsy fingers break upon impact, and the indentation of the fist remains in the metal. 
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gojo-mochi · 8 months
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Y/N as Shidou’s Manager
CW: Smut, Fem!Reader, Reader is annoyed by Shidou but also wanna fuck him so.. Shidou is a menace and nasty af.
CW: Reader wears a skirt, Oral Fem receiving, p/v, creampie, lots of spits, praising,  panty stealing, a little bit of crying (from pleasure)…  
Word Count: 2.3k
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A/N: This was on my mind for a while****…**** Need to do more Blue Lock writing tbh / I love any thoughts in my askbox about this or Y/N as other players managers. ALSO I wanted to make reader yell at him more but ya know*. How it is with Shidouhe just messes me up real bad y*all**. First time writing for Shidou as well
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Manager!Y/N Who has to deal with both Shidou and all the people he pissed off, this list includes.. Coaches, Soccer Moms, Players, News Reporters, Announcers, You, and the list goes on and on…
Manager!Y/N Who has to explain to Shidou that he just can’t go pissing on the opposing team's side of the field just because their Striker tried to flirt with you
Manager!Y/N Who swears up and down that she wasn’t a fan of Shidou before and all the merch she has was given to her as gifts
Manager!Y/N Who isn’t fucking pouting, Shidou! She doesn’t care that your fangirls were drooling all over your chest and arms after a match.
Manager!Y/N Who has to deal when Shidou slaps your ass when you’re bowing for an apology and say "Bending over for someone that isn’t me!?" With a shocked expression just like this
Manager!Y/N Who has to clean up mess after mess this includes stopping Shidou’s cum from leaking out of your cunt after you both fucked in the locker room after a match
Manager!Y/N Who has to pack extra panties after learning that Shidou likes to steal panties after having sex and you can’t go around bare pussy with only a skirt on
Small Drabble Below****…
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"Ryusei! I can’t fucking believe you this time! I mean, honestly! You already won the match, why did you have to go and break their Striker’s arm afterwards! You were pulling the tanned man by the ear across the hallway, and your fellow employees either gave you a sympathetic look or shakes their heads at the sight, knowing that Shidou had caused another incident on the field. "Ow, ow, OUCH! Y/N!~~~~" Shidou whines your name as continue to pull on his poor ear. He can easily stop you from dragging him, but he knows he sort of deserves this, and not to mention that when you get aggressive, it makes him super hard.
So onward you go until you reach the small break room at the end of the hallway. You let go of Shidou’s ear and stood there with your arms crossed in front of your chest and your feet tapping, glaring daggers at the football player in front of you. Shidou just rubs at his swollen earlobe and grins down at you. "Ya’ know that really realllllly hurts y/n!" He put out his lips in a pout. "Kiss it better for me, please?" He even went the extra mile and clasped his hands together in a begging position. You felt your blood pressure rise as Shidou started to flutter his long eyelashes at you.
Your eyebrows twitch as you slowly close your eyes, trying to steady your breath. You take a deep breath, and your nose crinkles a bit when you inhale the scent of musk and scents near you. You open your eyes to meet the bright pink cat-like irises of Shidou. He was almost nose to nose with you, grinning like the Cheshire cat he is. You jumped away, hitting your back against the wall. Slam! Shidou's hand smacks loudly beside your head, causing you to flinch a little. Shidou lets out a deep chuckle, closing in on the nape of your neck, blowing out a puff of warm air onto your skin. You try to suppress the oncoming shivers, but to no avail.
You just glared at him harder and tried to push him away by placing your hands on his very toned and muscular body. You were _definitely not feeling him up, _you gave a firm push, but Shidou did not budge one bit. Moving in even closer to trap you between the wall and him. One hand next to your head and the other moving to grab onto your waist tightly, fingers digging in to your plushness. It was absolutely going to leave a bruise mark the next morning. You hiss at the contact, growling out his name. "Ryusei! What do you think you’re doing?" You gave another fruitless push to his torso, causing him to let out a snort.
"Ya’ even trying there, Miss Manager? Or do you just like feeling me up?" He purrs the last part, showing off his toothy grin and sharp fangs. Your heart leaps up into your throat as you look away, fighting off the oncoming blush you would deny was there. Shidou’s hand lets go of your waist and goes to grab your chin to force you to look at him, his thumb presses against your cheek gently but tightly into place as the other fingers tilt your chin up to meet with his lips just barely ghosting over yours.
The retort that you wanted to answer with came out as small whimpers instead. You felt heat pool down to your stomach, your thighs would clench together if Shidou’s own thigh wasn’t coming in between them. You hear him moan at the contact, practically rutting against you now. His hardness presses neatly against your thigh, grinding on your soft plushness. His breath was hot and heavy, and his lips were still so close to yours but not touching. "So fukin’ pretty Y/N… my pretty girl." He moaned softly, getting lost in a horny haze. Your thighs clenched a bit tighter on Shidou’s leg after hearing his voice moan your name. He moves his thumb from your cheek to brush over your lips. Wiping some of the drool that leaked out onto the top of the lips and then stroking it again on the bottom..
You instinctively swiped out your tongue only to be met with Shidou’s thumb. He takes this opportunity to plunge his thumb into your mouth and on to your tongue. You gagged a bit at the sudden contact and pressure. Shidou holds your mouth open like that, tongue out with his thumb holding it in place, as he forces his own inside. It was messy and wet, the way Shidou’s tongue invaded your mouth, tasting every nook and cranny he could find. Running it all over your teeth and the roof of your mouth, then finally taking his damn thumb off your tongue only so he can shove his tongue further down your throat. Your lipstick was smeared all over both of your faces, along with the shiny spit that covered your chin. Shidou was loud and whiny as he was nearing a climax just from his constant rutting against your thigh.
"Hnng—Fuck! Fu-Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk! Y/N!" He screamed out your name as he came into his shorts. Resting his forehead against yours as sweat gleams down both your faces. Two thoughts were running in your head. The first was, "Fuck, that another pair of shorts ruined… The coach isn’t going to be happy about that." And the second one was; "I need Shidou’s cock in me right now." Shidou peeled away from you and looked down at his shorts, grabbing his waistband and opening it to see the mess he made inside. "Damn, I do cum a lot, don’t I?’
You snort at his comment, trying to wipe off the spit that adorned your face as Shidou starts shimmying down his shorts and boxers at the same time. His hard, tan cock was finally free from its cage, still slick and shiny. Shidou threw away the soiled clothes in the corner and turned his attention back towards you. You flinched from the predatory gaze he had on you, clutching your hands close to your chest, acting like some sort of shield. But Shidou did not move from his spot, only motioning his pointer finger in a ‘come hither’ movement. "What?" You hiss out, also not moving from your spot. Like a cornered cat, wary and hesitant but not running away.
It was honestly quite the sight to see. You huddled with your back against the wall, and Shidou, pantsless, was just motioning for you to come to him. You held a small staring content with Shidou, ultimately sighing in defeat as you inch closer to him. As you get into range, Shidou starts to purr; "There’s my sweet girl." He makes grabby hands at you, pulling you in close by the waist. "Look at you~ a fukin’ mess right now, aren’t cha?" "And who’s fault is that?" He cackled loudly at your small quip and glare, throwing his head back as he does. He starts groping your ass and thighs as he sighs out, "Let me make up for it then, baby." He slowly lowers himself down on his knees, his hands sliding down with him, and he bunches up your skirt so he can have full access to your panties.
He wolf whistled upon seeing the wet patch that was already clinging to your folds. You put your hands on Shidou’s shoulders, feeling unsteady about the position you were in, Shidou’s head was already nestled between your thighs, his hands behind your knees, the only thing keeping you from falling down. "Ryusei, I think we should move somewhere before you-aAH! Ryu! Mmah, oh god!"
Shidou was lost in bliss as his rough tongue lapped at the wet spot, tracing the outlines of your folds through your panties. The cotton dried his tongue a bit but your slick plus his spit made it work. He groaned out, moving his tongue up and down the fabric, finding your clit and sucking harshly on it, like he was dying of thirst and your clit was the only source of water he has. You fingernails dig into his shoulders as you whimper and moan out, trying to move your hips but his hands kept you forcefully still. “Ryusei, Ryusei, Ryusei, Ryu, Ryu, Ryuuuuuu!” You were chanting his name like a mantra, desperately wanting to tell him to just rip your panties off already but your mouth and brain weren’t connected at this moment.
Shidou seem to hear your thoughts though as he unlatch his mouth from your poor pussy and use his fangs to rip off your panties. You just hear the rip and slaps him upside the head. “Shidou! What the fuck! I liked those pair!”
"I’ll ge’ cha’ nee ones!" He spoke back his mouth full of your panties, he spit it out on the floor, making a mental note to stuff it in his pocket later. Diving right back in your pussy, Shidou was a messy eater, the slick pool all around his cheeks and chin, and he reveled in it, slurping up all the juices that weren’t making a mess on his face. He had no sense of direction in the way he was eating you out, no gentleness, and no thoughts present in his head. He just needed to taste you, his tongue plunging in your tight hole, then up in between your folds. Then the next second, he would be sucking on your clit with so much force that it made stars appear in your eyes.
His head was moving so much between your thighs, your legs were shaking and clenching around him, the lewd sounds echoed in the empty break room; and you panicked for a moment, wondering if you had locked the door before coming in or not. It was only a fleeting thought as Shidou continued his assault on your poor bundle of nerves, but he never stays there long enough for you to reach a climax. You were unsure if he was teasing you on purpose or not. You slide your hand from his shoulders to grip on firmly to his hair, tugging it upwards, hoping he would get the hint and give you some relief.
He seems to have understood your pleas and angled his head to give your clit all the attention it deserves. He unhooked one of his hands from your knees to rub at your entrance for a bit, shoving in two fingers straight away. You hissed at the pain from his fingers, but it soon turned into soft whines as he curled his fingers into the spot you like the most. His tongue was still on overtime, swirling around your clit, switching before sucking and licking until he felt his fingers go numb from how tight you were clenching as you reached your breaking point again.
Your knees go slack as you cream all over Shidou’s awaiting mouth; he made sure to get every single drop, tongue lapping wildly. His hand goes to grab on to your thighs as your legs start to fail you. He moves away with a loud "pop".  He peppers your thigh with soft kisses as he leads you down onto his lap. ‘That’s it, baby; trust me, just fall down; I’m right ‘ere." You plop down, letting Shidou part your weary thighs, and position your still dripping cunt over his weeping length. Untouched during that whole ordeal before, he almost came when his tip entered your walls. "Hahhh, Ya’ always so fukin’ tight! So good fer’ me, so damn good, pussy takin’ me in so good, baby." He kept on babbling about how good you were and how good you felt.
"Ryusei…." You whimpered, wrapping your arms around Shidou’s neck and resting your head in the crook of his head. Already feeling spent, you just let Shidou babble on and moved your hips up and down on his cock. Tears pricked at your eyes when you started to bottom out, biting on Shidou’s shoulder to drown out the whines of pain from how he was stretching and filling up so fully. Shidou made you go up high enough that his cock would almost slip out, only to slam your hips back down with a loud ‘_plop’. _
‘plop’. ‘plop’. "Ryu-Ryu-Ryuuuu!" "Fuck, Y/N! Hahhh!" ‘plop’. ‘plop’. 
His thumb was now rubbing small circles on your oversensitive clit as he kept bouncing you on his cock, slamming his hips up to meet yours now. Almost stuttering as he reached his second climax. His shoulder is now covered in various bite marks from you as you desperately cling on, feeling the tight knot in your core once again. It takes one last slam, and Shidou holds you down by the waist as he climaxes into you, his thumb not stopping until you are almost cumming along with him. Both your juices mixing together as Shidou groans out.
You wipe away some of your tears and lean back to face Shidou, he instantly coos at you and helps to wipe away your tears with his stained hands. You scoff at him and slap away his wet hand. He pouts at that and goes in for a kiss, which you _begrudgingly (lovingly) oblige. _The both of you stayed in that position, just softly kissing and calming down, until you hear your phone ring in your skirt pocket.
It made you jump a bit as you fished your phone out and shush Shidou. "Yes, this is L/N speaking… yes, yes, um Shidou is here with me, oh…. I understand and I am so sorry for everything… Yes, I understood.. thank you." You end the call and look at Shidou, remembering why you came into the breakroom in the first place and why you were so mad.
"Shidou Ryusei, did you tell someone to vandalize the other team’s van?!"
"Oh… whoops?"
taglist: @auratux @kenruu (is open) (lmk if u wanna be untag sorry for the wait wahh)
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astridianmayfly · 18 days
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radioapple’s final form is whatever queerplatonic co-parenting thing Po’s two dads in Kung Fu Panda 4 have going on
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artingstarvist · 22 days
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Chapter 1 / 14
Fandom: Tiān Guān Cì Fú / Heaven Official's Blessing
Relationships: Hua Cheng / Xie Lian, Xie Lian & Lang Qianqiu
Characters: Xie Lian, Hua Cheng, Yin Yu, He Xuan, Lang Qianqiu
Additional Tags: Coffin Rescue, Coffin AU, AU - Canon Divergence, AU - Different First Meeting, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, Revenge Plot, POV Alternating, Blood and Injury, Dream-Reality Confusion, Suicidal Thoughts, Non-Graphic Violence, Hua Cheng AND Xie Lian have Self Esteem issues, Hualian Invented Love, Hua Cheng bout to make it 34 gods
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So I wrote a coffin rescue fic! First draft of the whole thing is nearly done actually, but it needs editing so I'll probably post chapters weekly. I actually sketched the illustration first and it kind of inspired me to give writing a try since I kept thinking about what my take on a coffin fic would be. I may or may not add more art as I go along.
Also ty @lildoodlecat for proofreading for me! <3
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biboomerangboi · 13 days
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Hua Cheng is just so iconic to us because he is in fact a tumblr girlie. Notebook filled to the brim with sketches of his blorbo. Info dumps galore. Maximalist fashion to the nines. Outfits based on accessories. Has all of the genders under one big shapeshifting trench coat. Hates the ruling class. Excuses every problematic thing his blorbo does and stands by them in the group chats. Insane reaction to people who dislike his blorbo and says mean things about them, burning temples is the doxxing of his time. He belongs on here with us.
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clandestine-poet · 30 days
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For context, before anything else, I myself am a lesbian.
Alright. So I don't quite know how to explain it, but Hualian really just has lesbian vibes. At least to me.
Being a lesbian is a lot of: "You girls must be such good friends!" "Do your boyfriends know you're here?" "How come I never see you two apart?" "Haha, two girls kissing? They must be best friends."
And look. Listen.
Hualian is constantly having people be like "You two must be such great friends!" from most of the other heavenly officials (until later on).
Xie Lian and San Lang at Puqi Village getting the "where's your wives?" every .5 seconds.
Xie Lian is constantly asked/talked about with "where's YOUR crimson rain sought flower?" or "If you are here, Crimson Rain is not far behind".
THEY KISS SO MUCH AND MOSTLY GET LOUDLY TOLD "there's other ways to exchange spiritual power!"
Also, there's something inherently powerful about a queer couple.
Being queer creates a space outside the norm. That unites us so much.
And it just feels like Hualian are the most lesbian-coded gay man couple I have seen in a long, long time.
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hualianschild · 3 months
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let's talk abt hua cheng and the way his entire *almost* existence relates back to xie lian cuz it's been my current roman empire, his name having the word 'hua' which means 'flower' can be seen as relating to xie lian's god name (the flower crowned martial god), also he's called crimson rain sought flower cuz he was shielding a lone white flower (also represents xie lian) from the blood rain (he can be the said 'flower' in that rain too actually), that red coral pearl on his hair braid ? it belongs to xie lian, that red string tied around his finger, xie lian tied strands of his hair around that finger which represents marriage and ofc the red-string-of-fate soulmate trope, he has xie lian's name tattooed on him in his terrible writing, made an entire city just so his love can come there and rest and build a temple there so he can worship him and remained his only devotee when xl lost everything (that thing abt gods being in existence as long as there is someone to worship them) he gave up on becoming a god cuz then who will be worshipping his god ?? isn't afraid to show his true form to xl which he never did to anyone, destroyed those thirty three gods cuz they ridiculed his gege, took lqq along with him to qi rong's den so he can clear the false accusations even if xl didn't want him to CUZ YOU WILL NAWT BE HATING HIS DIANXIA OVER THINGS HE NEVER DID i mean his entire existence is because xie lian said 'if you can't find any reason to live, make me your reason to live' and oh isn't that level of devotion and love so devastating ?
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emotionaldisaster909 · 2 months
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Today’s episode was heartbreaking
We’ve seen so much of Xie Lian’s pain
So much of the fall of XianLe
But now
Will you tell me that it was all his fault?
The “consequence of his actions”?
So what should we blame him for?
For being a child against the most powerful and cruel ancient evil?
The one that lived 1000 years, destroyed all the gods and deceived the entire world?
Or was he too stubborn and not listened to other people?
Well let me tell you
XIE LIAN WAS NEVER WRONG FOR NOT LISTENING TO OTHERS.
Who should he have listened to?
That very evil that told him not to try and help his people?
His guoshi who knew everything and told him nothing but to sacrifice an innocent child in “penance” to that very evil?
Should he have crushed all youngans in one go, kill the poor starving people, led to desparation?
Should he have told his own desperate people that their cure was in murder and watch the inevitable massacre?
The only thing
The only thing that he should have seriously done differently
His biggest, most fatal mistake
He did
BY LISTENING TO SOMEONE WHO TOLD HIM HE WAS WRONG
ONE TIME.
He listened to his father.
The King of Xian Le.
When at the very beginning of it all they had an argument
Where Xie Lian insisted they should melt his golden statues and let the starving homeless people into his shrines
That’s EXACTLY what they should’ve done, but they did not
Because guess what the father said
We can’t. Because we did not build the shrines and the statues.
People of Xian Le did.
Do you want to disregard your people by doing that?
SAID THE KING
Knowing VERY WELL that he is talking about THE ROYALTY OF XIAN LE.
THE RITCH PEOPLE OF XIAN LE.
THE ONES WHO LET HIM RULE.
THE ONES WHO EASILY MIGHT TAKE HIS POWER
AND LIFE AWAY
IF HE DISPLEASES THEM.
But he knows how to PHRASE IT RIGHT to his son who CHERISHES HIS PEOPLE NO MATTER THE STATUS.
And who might very much not know the intricacies behind the ruler’s chambers.
Because Xie Lian
Was
Never
Meant
TO RULE.
He was raised to be a Martial God.
To fight demons and grant wishes.
NOT
TO RULE
A COUNTRY
BUT GUESS WHO
WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO RULE THE COUNTRY????
WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE SURE A HUGE PART OF IT WON’T STARVE TO DEATH?????
THE KING
And his son had to
ABANDON HEAVEN
To come deal with his mess
You can try blaming Xie Lian for not listening to the prayers from that part of Xian Le.
But he did not NOT listen.
He DID NOT HEAR.
Because the prayers system of “the ritcher - the louder” is inherently corrupt.
And growing up in a wealthy capital
Xie Lian must’ve not even SUSPECTED that there’ll be a part of his country so poor that no offerings would be enough for him to hear the prayers.
He did not know.
BUT THE KING
DID.
There’s no way he didn’t.
Yet does anyone
Does anyone in the book
And outside, anyone of the readers
Ever thought to blame him?
No.
Not even once have i seen this take.
Not even i realised it until recently. Thanks to my dear friend @3luecactuz
And why?
Because Xie Lian tells us the story.
And he himself
Completely believes
That it was all his fault.
When his only real fault was in not standing his ground
Agains the only person
Who held authority in his eyes.
Who was the authority in his life from the very beginning of it.
Who, no matter the future arguments, was the person he loved.
His father.
In the face of the greatest crisis he’s ever seen
Under the pressure to make the right choice for so many innocent lives
He gives in and listenes to a person who he not only inherently trusts
But who objectively had much more experience and knowledge than him
Who’s flaws he has not yet seen clearly enough. And never will.
Because this person raised him to be
Perfect.
And he failed.
Because no one is perfect.
And he believed in it in the wrong time and place. He gave in.
Decided to look for another solution.
And gave the evil orchestrating his demise just enough time to pull the first string.
Of many.
So tell me.
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Really, tell me.
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Did he deserve this?
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Should he have listened more?
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Should he have?
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Or maybe
Just maybe
He needed someone
Who could have told him
To do what he thinks is right.
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carpetbug · 4 months
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welcome to the beginning of my ML Feline Blue AU!
in which Marinette is forced to become guardian before ever wielding a miraculous. Chaos ensues when she uses the black cat ring to become feline blue and through a silly little turn of events, Adrien gets his hands on the ladybug earrings and becomes beetle rouge
BIIIIIG thank you to my lovelies @isabugs and @thimbleb3rries for being so kind and encouraging, for their WONDERFUL ART OH MY GOD, and for beta-ing this!
The beginning: Becoming Guardian
1 • 2
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“You’re not going to beat me like that, old man” The looming figure taunted.
Hunched in a ball before him, a much smaller elderly man struggled for breath. Blood trailed from his mouth, combining with his saliva to messily drip from his lips as he fought for air. Just by the effort he had to put into continuing breathing, he could tell this was not a fight he could win. Still, his fists clenched in defiance as he pushed himself from the floor and steadied himself upright on his feet. His spine screamed in protest and searing pain at the task, but he managed to remain standing.
“I know I can not beat you, old man” He coughed, hands trembling slightly. “But I must continue to fight”
The taller man scoffed before taking a step forward “I’ll make sure it's the last thing you ever do, you pathetic excuse of a guardian” He spat, tightening his grip on his cane as his rage boiled beneath his skin.
“I’d expect nothing less from a villain like you, Hawkmoth”
“No need to act like you’re so much better than me. After all, we've all made mistakes, haven’t we Master fu” Hawkmoth sneered.
“Leave my past out of this. I’ve worked to fix what I have broken, you only aim to destroy” Master fu panted, feeling his shoulders to check if his bag was still on his back, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he felt the thick material. Next his hands slowly traveled to support and feel the bottom and sides of the bag, searching for an object. He took another relieved breath when he felt the item's weight, and then he prepared himself for the worst. Bunching his muscles, he sprang into action and bolted away from Hawkmoth.
He focused only on moving forward, getting as far from this wretched evil as he could before time ran out. When he finally collapsed, legs giving out from under him in pure exhaustion, he found himself at the Pont de Arts, above the seine. Hawkmoth was nowhere to be seen, but master fu knew that was only a false sense of security. The villain would find him soon enough. He needed to find someone. Anyone.
“-ir? Are you okay?”
A voice. Master fu looked up, vision shaking just slightly. In Front of him stood a teenage girl, dark hair pulled back into pigtails and eyebrows pushed together with worry.
“Sir? Can you hear me?” She asked with a panicked look in her eyes. “How can I help?” She stepped closer and offered him a hand.
Master fu gathered his strength to pull his bag from his back and carefully draw open the zipper before reaching in to pull out the contents. The girl watched intensely, eyes following his pained movements. He pulled a large dark wooden box from the bag and held it close to his chest, then brought his eyes upwards to meet her face. “I’m sorry, young hero” He said sadly, then joined his hand to hers before she could respond.
An intense feeling washed over him, and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. This girl was strong. He hoped she will forgive him for the burden he will make her bear.
She flashed an anxious smile “That’s okay, and I promise I’m no hero. Just a normal g-” He cut her off with a sharp tug, then slammed the box into her chest. She gasped as he knocked the air from her lungs, clearly not expecting such a feat of strength from the battered man. As she fought to breathe, Master fu gathered the last few remnants of his strength and lifted the girl from the ground. “I, Wang Fu, hereby relinquish the Miracle Box-”
“Stop! What are you doing!?”
“-and name Marinette Dupain-Cheng the guardian” His body lit up, skin glowing as the box between them lifted upward and burned like a star in the air.
“How do you know my na-?!” Before she could finish what she said, the box dropped back into her hold and the elderly man -still glowing like some sort of deity- held her over the railing and dropped her into the rushing water below. She hit the surface with a loud splash, getting thrown under but quickly resurfacing a few feet away, miracle box still in her arms.
The last thing she saw before being pulled away by the fast moving current was the man falling backwards to the ground in exhaustion as the light emitting from his skin dimmed.
Master fu slowly blinked his eyes open, carefully taking in his surroundings with an expression of pure shock and confusion on his face. He seemed so frail, all of a sudden. Like he had lost all his fight.
“What did you do?!” a booming voice hissed behind him. He started to turn his head to look, but something beat him to it. All of a sudden, a hand tightened around his throat and picked him off the ground, nails digging into the thin skin of his neck.
“What- what’s happening?” Master fus strangled voice hardly escaped his lips. He tried to thrash his legs, do anything to get free, but a fatigue he couldn’t explain had overcome his muscles. Weakly prying at his attackers hands, panic began to set in. There wouldn’t be any escape. “Who are you?” he managed out in a pained mumble.
“I am the next guardian of the miraculous” the seething voice responded as nails began to break through his skin. “I am the consequences of your greatest mistake” the words rang through his head as his vision went black, and sickeningly warm blood poured from his throat.
Marinette struggled to hold her head above the surface and keep the container in her grasp as the river pulled her this way and that. Her mind raced and her lungs screamed, everything inside her begging to let go of that weird old man’s weird old box and save herself instead. Still, her grip remained glued to the sodden wood, as if she would rather drown than set the box free to face the waters’ wrath. Nothing was making any sense. And despite the deafening chorus of the racing water that surrounded her, the only thing ringing in her ears was the man’s words.
He had called her a hero. He had entrusted her with something clearly important to him. He had thrown her into the seine. He had been badly wounded. He had been a complete and utter stranger. What did everything mean? Suddenly, her feet felt solid ground beneath her, and she hurriedly moved to follow it. She pushed forward, focusing on reaching the bank that lay on the other side. Eventually Marinette was able to pull herself and the box from the water onto an empty platform beneath a bridge.
As soon as she was safely out of the water, Marinette threw herself backwards in exhaustion. She laid against the cool pavement underneath her and passed through all the events that had just occurred. What the fuck was this ‘miracle’ box? And why was she the ‘guardian’? Ignoring the new aches in her body, she sat upward and brought the box closer to her.
There she sat for a few moments, toying with the lid and gently tracing the intricate pattern displayed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened it.
“HELLO YOUNG MASTER” A loud chorus of voices rang out as a beam of light emitted from the open container and what looked like small differently colored masses of stars flew all around her. Marinette fell back onto her elbows, overwhelmed at the sudden sensory overload. Her vision was a blur of nauseating colors accompanied by what she could only imagine to be auditory hallucinations.
Before she had a chance to speak, to catch her breath or try and scream for help, the almost magical colorful masses slowed until they were still, then began to morph into a solid form. Marinette watched, intrigued and terrified, as these small creatures took shape in front of her. They each seemed to be a different animal, though they all shared an alien-like anatomy. Some had tails, others long whiskers and a few antennas. Two of them caught her eye, a sleek black cat and what she thought to be a ladybug (though it looked much more like some sort of bug-mouse combo).
As if the creatures could read her mind -which they could, for all she knew-, they began to speak in sync. “WE ARE THE KWAMI, MAGICAL BEINGS THAT CAN BESTOW POWERS UPON OUR WIELDERS.” They said, in an almost sing-songy voice.
“AND YOU, MARINETTE, ARE OUR NEW GUARDIAN.”
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