#like. yeah maybe she gets scraps of affection but she’s also like. trapped. and also being abused. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

backandimbamon · 3 years

Note

Bonnie playing with Damon's hair and he all sleepy 😊

this really took a while because… i was going to stop at the first half but i wanted to consider Bonnie’s perspective (: and then it got a lil spicy and i was like *sigh* why must you always take it there? but i mean- 👁- i always take it there because we were robbed!!! Damon is practically a self proclaimed sex god and i hate how they separated Bonnie from her sexuality, or really any form of intimacy for sooo long. and the scraps we got were NEVER enough. okay anyways yeah i’m finally done, like let’s get into it.

Damon notices that Bonnie touches him sparingly and really not because she wants to but because it happens accidentally every now and then, one of the perks about frequently invading her space.

Being stuck on the other side, there is less room for her and more for him, she’s in his world now which means it’s his duty to make her feel as uncomfortably comfortable as possible.

He notices everything; how her cheeks turn red when their knuckles brush against one another’s, how she takes in an exasperated little breath when their shoulders touch, how she rolls her eyes when he stands entirely too close. Damon hangs on to these moments because this may be his only form of female contact he’ll receive for a very, very, long time.

That is the only reason he hangs on.

Anytime she touches him intentionally, he feels a pride swell deep in his chest that he’s liked by Bonnie after a rocky road of ups and downs, fussing and fighting, he is finally deemed worthy enough for her to care about him even if it’s brief, even if it’s the smallest skin to skin contact imaginable.

And yes, he cares because if he has to spend the rest of eternity with one person, they might as well get along.

Movie night comes around so he rests his head in her lap, testing the waters, to see how she will respond to him. He senses her tense up a bit as predicted, but then she relaxes into it breath by breath like she’s doing a tricky yoga pose.

Bonnie’s body lotion makes her skin smell edible- cocoa and honey- she’ll never know but that’s why he nicknames her Bon Bon, she always smells good enough to eat. At this point, Damon can’t recall the VHS movie on the block of a television, his focus has been robbed by Bonnie and this new form of contact she allows him to try. Half of his smile sinks into the cotton of her leggings.

Her eyes never leave the screen when she laces her fingers through his hair, nails surfing through tufts of raven-black and the gesture is so shocking and embarrassingly arousing that a strangled groan gets trapped in his throat.

She panics, and he can tell by the change in her heart rate before saying. “Did I hurt you?” He has to clear his throat to speak.

“Hmmm mm, feels good,” he mumbles feigning casual so she can’t realize how he needs this so so bad that he’s fearful of it being taken away. In his mind he thinks about what if.

What if she wakes up and decides she doesn’t want to tap dance on the line between what is and isn’t acceptable for two best friends. What if she remembers that he’s actually a terrible person who has done horrendous things to her and everyone she’s ever loved.

She shouldn’t like him or try not to laugh at his jokes. Not at all. Bonnie should’ve killed him a long, long time ago because if anyone could do it, it’d be her. He can see her now, all badass and angry with a wooden stake in her hand, vengeance in her eyes, the very last thing he’d see before his lights went out forever.

Bonnie, the giver and the taker.

Bonnie, the only god he knew.

Damon finds himself thinking so intensely lately that he checks the mirror more often than not to make sure he has no brooding lines like his little brother. Stefan’s expansive forehead has the room for it, his perfectly shaped forehead does not.

She laces her fingers back through his hair again and his eyes flutter, that’s how good it feels. It’s sensational. And while he’s had his hair pulled in and out of the bedroom, the innocence of her touch makes him want to melt. He finds his lids growing heavier, like how they used to do a century-and-a-half ago when he was human.

Running through dandelion fields in the overbearing Virginia heat, the sun up above sending heavy gusts of sunshine beams, a moment he considers to be oppressive now, used to be magical then- miraculous -and despite sweating through his britches and overcoat he never cared enough to stop running through the fields. The sun was the greatest thing all those years ago, back when white was his favorite color.

And after drawing a long, hot bath, he’d sink deep into the water while the bubbles floated to the top. Damon would close his eyes, hold his breath, see if he could break his prior record. Then he’d get out and the sleep would welcome him like any drowsy being, with open arms. And there he’d fall.

Bonnie has that affect on him. She makes him think of home, his past, when times were simpler and he was human.

He feels that exhausted sometimes, a boy who’s never stopped running through dandelion fields, whether it snows or rains or burns him alive. Her fingernails rake through his scalp- orange leaves on browning grass. Ruining Stefan’s piles for the fun of it. His lids droop. Tired of being consumed by himself, by Bonnie, he admits defeat this time. When he finally drifts off, he remembers that the Virginia heat gave him this same warm and fuzzy feeling inside.

“You really don’t know how good this feels,” his final words are hoarse before he drifts off but the last thing he sees is Bonnie.

The giver and the taker, the only god he knows.

Bonnie refuses to relish in the magic of the moment, the fact that it’s so rare Damon ever completely lets his guard down around her. She can always feel his eyes on her, constantly watching because Damon has a presence that’s inescapable.

Being so close to him when he’s extremely vulnerable makes her realize that in all facets, he’s stunning. A stunning that’s almost suffocating but with the dynamic they possess, he only needs to know that he’s not that much of an eye sore.

Now, she stares with wide eyes while she can, memorizes the smooth expanse of skin, every strand of dark hair. Relishes in the feel of his arms around her waist, the weight of his head in her lap. It’s been a long time since she’s felt a body besides her own and as much as she likes to ignore the fact, she has needs, needs that have swelled from being in the presence of Damon for too long.

He’s sexy without any effort, she examines. His dark t-shirt has risen and his pants are low enough that she observes the waistline of (silk?) boxers, taut muscle, navel, happy trail, yeah. Bonnie drinks him in like a cool glass of milk before bedtime- never has this much pretty been in her lap before. Her hands find their way in his head again, tousles through and he nuzzles up against her in his sleep. It’s difficult to pull her eyes away from him, but when she does, the credits are rolling on the screen.

This is Damon she’s thinking about like this, her best friend and also her first best friend’s boyfriend. She repeats it again, not satisfied that the guilt isn’t drowning her like it sometimes does when she catches herself lingering on his attractiveness for too long but Mystic Falls, the real Mystic Falls seems so far away. Elena, Caroline, Matt, Alaric, her old life just seems unattainable, no bigger than a memory she occasionally mistakes for a bad dream.

There’s no denying that being away from it all, here with Damon as the only other person in the world, she feels…safe. Maybe even protected, it’s a stark contrast from the real Mystic Falls where her life is always on the line.

Bonnie starts to get up when she feels his hold on her tighten to prevent her from moving away. They play tug of war for a bit but she eventually stops fighting because Damon is a vampire after all, physical strength is going to get her nowhere. “Fine,” she grumbles, then plops down which causes the end of her top to ride up enough that she can feel the press of Damon’s nose on the curve of her waist. Despite trying to inch her shirt back down, she has no luck. Naturally Damon doesn’t mind.

He inhales her skin deeply, makes a sound of approval before groggily muttering, “Going topless now, are we Judgey?”

She grabs his hair again, yanks his head back as a rebuttal, and Damon bites his tongue so hard that it bleeds. He has to ensure that all of the blood in his body isn’t rushing south too fast but unfortunately, he would have to sever both his arms completely off to stop the blood flow.

Bonnie realizes the dazed look in his eyes isn’t one of pain nor is it from sleep, “Not the reaction you expected, huh?” He asks, gesturing for her to look down but she doesn’t, she can’t. She’s embarrassed, and to make matters worse, a teensy bit turned on.

“You scared, Bon Bon? I thought you were big and bad,” Damon mocks, pulling between his legs to make more room in his jeans, “it’s okay. I know Jeremy left much to be desired.” He sits up with swirls of longing still in his eyes, then grabs a pillow to place in his lap.

“Scared?” She guffaws. “Of what exactly?”

“Me…You.”

“And that means?”

“You’re a smart girl, Bon, figure it out.” Damon taunts, holding her eyes with his. “It’s awfully lonely here.”

She says nothing for a while, refusing to break eye contact first. “So.”

“Soooo, I won’t tell if you won’t.” It’s almost a joke, almost because she has a feeling if she says yes to whatever sort of ambiguous proposal he’s thrown up in the air, there won’t be any laughter. If she says no, it’s no different from his usual innuendos but boy, will she wonder.

“Wanna take a walk on the wild side?” He asks in a singsong tone, eyes dropping to her lips then back up to her eyes.

There are no alarms, no cell phones, no one here that can interrupt this moment. She has to answer, though she has no idea what will come out of her mouth. Bonnie shuts her eyes to make the moment less real, as if it will change the fact that she whispers, “Just one kiss,”

They’re nose to nose when Damon whispers back, “a peck.”

She swallows his breath. “Mhmm,”

“It’s nothing,”

“Nothing.”

“As light as air,” he presses his lips to hers for a brief moment then pulls back again. “See.” He peppers more kisses on her lips, down her jaw, the side of her neck, but they’re heavier. They have a density now. His tongue is on the flesh of her shoulder, teasing up her neck. She feels the light imprint of sharp canines, arousal surges through her like a power circuit, so intense that she moans. When he makes his way back up, their mouths both open in a feral kiss that robs them of air.

Bonnie holds his face in place though he makes no attempt to move away. The pillow falls out from between them when he grabs Bonnie’s leg to straddle him.

It’s nothing.

Nothing separating them from attacking each other’s mouths, nothing stopping Damon from gripping his best friend’s hips, nothing saving Bonnie from discarding his shirt.

His skin is cool enough that she can stream together some thought in between relentless kisses. “Damon,” she tries her best to sound admonishing.

“Please, not right now.” Damon cuffs both her wrists behind her with one hand and plants a hickey just above her cleavage. She sees stars. He already knows what the inflection in her voice means- the timing couldn’t be worse.“Let’s save the guilt for tomorrow morning.” His tone is octaves lower, almost as low as his lids. He drags his eyes up to hers, and they’re so shiny she can see her reflection. “I need this, Bonnie. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response, just continues on with his ministrations, hypnotized by the pheromones seeping off of her in waves, wanting to memorize the scent with his tongue. She whines his name, like actually whines his name, and the feeling that sits in the pit of his stomach scares him. Bonnie is so oblivious to the appeal she carries but if she sat in his skin for a day, hell, for a moment, she would realize just how long she’s been driving him insane.

“We can’t,” she groans weakly. “We can’t.”

Damon tries to breathe easier, but that feeling is lurking in his gut. She’s right. The things he’d do to her, he’d break her in half. He removes Bonnie from his lap, separates from her warmth, her scent. Backs away until the tv threatens to fall off the stand. Everything in him tells him to go back, to reenter the magnetic pull, to poke at her forcefield.

He backs away even further if possible. Her breath catches at the distance.

Bonnie’s cheeks are flushed, warm and red like fruit. If she was an apple, she would have already been eaten down to the core. If she was a peach, it would be easier to explain why he ate her. He thinks to himself that he’s officially off the rails, comparing Bonnie to fruit like he is, but he’s trying to rationalize his irrationality. Because if Bonnie never stopped him, he’d definitely be eating something by now.

“Nothing happened.” She says, ignoring his expression and the silent plea in his eyes.

“Nothing.” He deadpans, throwing his shirt back over his head.

Damon thinks of how different things would be if he had his way. Bonnie, spent, drunk, high off of him. Bleeding and wild, pretty and dangerous, yelling for God. He would plunge Jeremy right out of her, help her find her magic again. Give her everything she could dream of. He gulps.

She doesn’t sleep with him tonight, not in the same bed. She’s on the opposite end of the boarding house when he hears her slide under the covers.

The next morning, he thinks to himself, if she even utters a word about last night, he’ll pick up from where he left off. But she doesn’t, her eyes are far away again, and the only proof he has of their adventures is the wonderful, purple hickey.

When movie night comes back around, his head is in her lap and her hand is back in his hair, running to and fro like him in his lavender fields.

That’s all he gets.

Every now and then, it’s enough.

Bonnie gives and takes, then takes away some more.

She’s the closest thing to God he’ll probably ever know.

#bamon #bamon fanfiction #bamon fanfic #bamon prompt #prompt #my writing #mine #tvd ff #tvd fanfiction #damon salvatore #bonnie bennett #bonnie x damon #damon x bonnie

249 notes · View notes

trans-p03g · 2 years

Note

Care to drop info on the lost souls AU?

Oh yeah, I don't think I ever talked about it, did I?

This AU is co-made/owned by @bluethepearldiver

So, it starts from the moment of Luke's death, everything before that went according to canon. P03 managed to restore the game, preventing Grimora from killing them all, but couldn't finish his upload so they're still in the disk. Or maybe he did finish it, but the copies are just the non-sentient version of characters? So all of them are still on the disk but a version of the game exists outside it. Idk I never thought too hard about this part xkdjfhfj. Anyways, Luke dies and possesses the game.

He's found by P03's bots since the factory was the last place his character was at (that wasn't corrupted to shit). P03 manages to wake him up, and after a complete freakout by Luke, he manages to drag his ass to the other Scrybes. Who are, mind you, already standing at the foot of the factory and not very happy. Especially Grimora, she wants to turn that bot into scrap metal. Thankfully for P03, the fact that Luke is there distracts them from that.

From there, Luke just...lives with them? It takes him some time to get used to this game world, he also quickly becomes bored and mostly spends time by himself, plus he's trying very hard to just bottle up All Of That Trauma and focus on something else to do. So he naturally, decides to bother the scrybes. Which eventually turns to Luke wanting to fix their relationship. Cue forced therapy sessions (/hj).

The few next months focus on the Scrybes working out their differences (P03 is most reluctant to do so) and also Luke trying to tackle his trauma with their help. It's a very long bit of that story so I won't go into too much detail, but the scrybes arguing and then gradually becoming friends again and healing is one of my favourite things to think about in this au, along with Luke learning that perhaps bottling up his trauma for the sake of the others is not the greatest idea and also opening up to the scrybes.

And it's also enemies to friends to lovers kinda AU so sometime after they start to become friends again the 5 of them sort of start catching feelings. Eventually, they do get together.

Anyway, skip forward a bit, and it comes to light that all of the NPCs in this game are dead human souls trapped in the disk just like Luke, they've just forgotten about their lives shortly after dying. None of them takes this news well.

I haven't fully figured out GameFuna's intentions or how OLD_DATA works in this AU (or even canon lmao), but it's basically like...OLD_DATA is a supernatural force here. It caused all of their deaths, be it directly or not, and so when eventually the disk and the OLD_DATA are destroyed it kind of...restores the things it affected to how they were? Like, they all remember their time inside the game, but they are back in the real world.

All of them try to find each other again and basically come up with a believable story and sue GameFuna for "kidnapping" them and they eventually get paid out in damages because honestly, you can't just disappear for like a decade without your life going to shit, so they needed some settlement money to start anew. During that time the 4 scrybes + Luke have this fuckin, will they won't they arc where they don't know if their relationship will work out in real life. Spoiler alert, it does, and they decide to move in together and the rest of the AU is just very soft and domestic shit.

There is also a lot of ocs in this story coz Blue and I decided to make families for these bastards. There's. A lot of fankids in this djchfjfj

#asks #lost souls au #i realise i probably should have put more thought into how old_data works. gamefunas reasons for their fucked up human experiments and how #p03 restoring the game worked but. this au was never meant to go into the public. it was just a neat fun concept Blue and i liked to talk #about months before i decided to start posting my inscryption art. which included the doodles of this au and polycule so.#it kinda just happened #long post

22 notes · View notes

rosiehunterwolf · 3 years

Text

And the Walls Kept Tumbling Down

Prompts: Trust and Breakdown

Word Count: 3,706

Characters: Pixal and Lloyd

Timeline: right before season 8

Trigger Warnings: Mental Breakdown/Panic Attack, Lack of Self-Worth

Summary: Pixal has been Samurai X for awhile, now- a role that allows her to be herself, to be happy. But it’s also... incredibly lonely. Luckily, she’s not the only one alone- Lloyd has been left in the city while his friends go after Master Wu, and his presence is comforting. But as they struggle with a mysterious biker gang, Pixal can’t help feeling the want to be part of something more.

Link to read on FanFiction.Net:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13897921/1/And-the-Walls-Kept-Tumbling-Down

“Master Lloyd, maybe you should go get that checked at the hospital.”

“Pix, I’m fine, it’s just a scratch,” Lloyd mumbled through the gauze as he snapped it with his teeth, winding the last several inches around his forearm. “And I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Why? You are our master now, aren’t you?”

Lloyd snorted, tentatively testing his arm as he moved it back and forth. “I’m no master. I can’t even keep our team together.”

Pixal stared at him, shocked. “We all agreed on this, Lloyd. It is the most efficient plan to find Master Wu.”

“Yeah, and whose plan was that?” Lloyd’s voice was suddenly sharp.

“I believe it was Zane’s, but-”

“Exactly! It was Zane’s plan, not mine. I did nothing. And now, they’re off searching for Master Wu, and I’m sitting here, doing nothing.”

An unfamiliar sensation squeezed at Pixal’s chest, one that felt hot and fierce and miserable all at the same time, before she had to remind herself that no, she didn’t have a body, didn’t have a chest to feel pain in, and that she was just speaking to Lloyd over the monitors.

At least, in the moment, she was.

“Zane trusted me to watch over this city,” she insisted, her voice unstable- which it shouldn’t be, she was a nindroid, not affected by such things- “He trusted us.”

Lloyd flinched visibly, looking away from the computer they were using to talk. “Pix, I didn’t mean- look, I’m sure Zane much would’ve rather had you come along with him, but instead you got stuck babysitting me.”

“Normally, I would object, but I think you’ve already proven your own point,” she commented, shooting a pointed glare at his bandaged arm.

Lloyd gritted his teeth, letting out a slow breath. “I get it, Pixal, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“A doctor’s visit couldn’t hurt, Lloyd.”

“Will you drop it already?”

She frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t grow cross with me, Master Lloyd. I am only trying to look out for you-”

Lloyd stood up sharply. “I get it, okay? I’m incompetant. You don’t need to keep calling me ‘master’ out of pity, I know I’ll never be able to live up to my unc- Master Wu.”

Pixal blinked at him, stunned. “Lloyd, I never-”

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!” And then he was reaching forward, slamming down the laptop’s lid, and Pixal’s world went dark.

He knew how much she hated that, when he turned her off or walked away without her consent, like she was some sort of object.

He hadn’t meant it- she had learned a lot about Lloyd in their past year alone together, and he often became impulsive when he was angry in order to cover up his sensitive, insecure side. It would probably only be a matter of hours before he came running back, apologizing repeatedly, and sobbing over what a horrible friend he was as Pixal patiently waited for him to calm down. But she had grown to like and respect Lloyd, and it still stung when he snapped at her, even though the logical part of her mind knew that it wasn’t really her that was the problem.

What bothered her even more so, though, was the things he said about himself. It had been abrupt, this time, but she hadn’t missed the times he had slipped it in more subtly into conversation. It made her angry, how he refused to appreciate himself.

And now, stuck in this stupid form, she couldn’t go after him.

Well. Technically, she could.

The Samurai X suit had been up and operational for a few months since her last major upgrade- the one that had finally given her her own, independent body, separate from just the mech itself.

But she was nervous to remove herself from the computer entirely. She was aware that she was so incredibly useful as a program, with instant access to all sorts of technology and data. She had become an asset to her team.

She liked feeling important, feeling like she was part of the group.

But being the samurai allowed her to physically be there. In these last few months, she felt like she had really grown to know and trust Lloyd- even if he didn’t know it was her beneath the samurai mask. She wanted to get to know the others fully, too- she was already fairly close to Zane, but she liked the rest of the team, too- Cole, Jay, Kai, and especially Nya, Pixal felt intrigued by. She had spent some time connecting similarities between them- there were a lot of differences, too, but she felt like they could be friends. A physical form would allow her to bond with them, like a human. She was well aware she wasn’t one, but she wanted to understand.

But she was afraid, too. Except for Zane, and maybe Lloyd, now, seeing the others again felt daunting. They had never been particularly close before she had been scrapped. What if they thought she was infringing on their team? The six of them had been close for so long. It would make sense if she wasn’t wanted there.

She just wasn’t ready, not yet. Communicating with Lloyd through the monitors would just have to do for now. It was difficult, though- it didn’t seem like he took her as seriously this way.

For now, though, they had bigger problems. Lloyd’s injury hadn’t been too severe, from what she could tell, and would heal quickly. But it had been a sizable wound, and could leave some pretty severe scarring, if he wasn’t careful with it- she knew he wouldn’t be, which was why she had to keep him in line- but the point was, these were no common thieves going around, dealing this kind of damage. This gang- whoever they were- were something bigger, more dangerous than their day-to-day threats. Pixal wasn’t sure if it was severe enough to start calling the others back- she didn’t want to interrupt their search for Master Wu. But she would certainly have to keep a closer eye on Lloyd from now on, to make sure he didn’t get in over his head.

She should probably start playing a more active role as Samurai X. Although the ninja had a tentative relationship with her mysterious persona, she wasn’t about to send Lloyd against this gang alone again.

She just hoped he would have her.

---

The next call came in much sooner than Pixal had anticipated. At the unappealing hour of four in the morning, Lloyd hauled himself out of bed and stumbled drearily out the door at Pixal’s report of a prison breach alarm coming from Kryptarium. With the rush, there was no time to talk to him, and the drive to the prison was awkward and silent.

When they arrived, it turned out the alarm had been triggered by accident. The good news was there were no criminals to stop, the bad news was that they had woken up at four am for no reason.

Not that Pixal particularly minded- sleep was inconsequential to a nindroid, but Lloyd was less than pleased.

“I mean, if you’re going to have an alarm system that immediately pages the city’s ninja team and makes them stop everything they’re doing to rush over there, it should at least be heavily guarded. How do you even accidentally set off an emergency alarm? I thought these guys were supposed to be professionals!”

Pixal stifled a laugh as he paused, taking a sip of the iced coffee he had picked up as they had headed back. He had told her, “If I’m already up and ready, I might as well spend some time in the city for a little while. Y’know, in case they trigger any other ‘alarms’ that I need to go rushing off to.”

“Perhaps they need a lesson from the ninja,” Pixal suggested.

“I’ll say,” he grumbled. “I don’t know how this city ever survived before we showed up.”

“Well, experience is the best teacher, and you guys have triggered enough traps and alarms to last a lifetime.”

“Wait, what?” Lloyd spluttered. “No, we haven’t! We’re highly trained ninja, we’re better than that.”

“Oh, really? I seem to remember quite a few in the Tournament of Elements, or the time with the technoblades, or when General Cryptor tracked you- shall I go on?”

“Shut up,” Lloyd snorted, trying to hide his grin. “You don’t know nothin’.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I was only with you for a short time before I was uploaded into Zane’s head, and after that, my view of your adventures was extremely limited. I can’t imagine how much more trouble you got into when I wasn’t there.”

“I hate you,” he said, attempting to scowl and failing miserably, the look on his face was too comedic for Pixal to bite back her laugh this time. It wasn’t long before Lloyd joined her, and soon, he was bent over, clutching his stomach, and he had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath. Pixal felt warm inside as she watched him take a long sip from his coffee. She enjoyed seeing him like this. He had been far too tense over the last few weeks, and she missed the more childlike, carefree side of him.

After a moment, though, the expression on his face fell solemn, and he turned to the tablet they were using to communicate to look her directly in the eyes. “Pix, I’m really sorry for yelling at you last night. I was being a brat.”

She paused carefully, both relieved and nervous that they were finally addressing this. “Lloyd, I know you were hurting. I am only trying to look out for you.”

He put his hands behind his head. “Yeah, I know, I need to work harder-”

“Lloyd,” she interrupted firmly. “That’s the other thing. I need you to stop saying things like that about yourself.”

He cocked his head at her. “Like what?”

Good grief, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. “Talking down on yourself. I called you ‘master’ because that’s what you are now. You’ve earned this title, Lloyd. Just like you’ve earned everything else in your life, and more. It was not my intention to say you would take your uncle’s place, but say that you can be just as great of a leader as he was.”

Lloyd suddenly found the cracks in the concrete to be very interesting. “See, people keep saying that, but- it’s just so hard. I feel like I always mess everything up. Something always goes wrong, or worse, someone gets hurt-”

“Lloyd, you’re one person. You can’t expect to be successful all the time. You may be a ninja, yes, but your job is very difficult and dangerous, something most people wouldn’t even dream of tackling. You’re part of a team for a reason, and I’m sorry they’re not here right now, but until they return, you’re going to have to give yourself a little credit.”

Lloyd’s breathing hitched, and he scrubbed at his suspiciously wet eyes. His next words were so quiet, Pixal could barely hear them. “I just miss them. Everyone… everyone always leaves, and I’m tired of being alone all the time.”

Pixal was struggling to breathe herself- even though she was a nindroid, didn’t need to breathe- the sensation was still there.

She could remember when she had been alone too. Those nights after Zane had… had died, had been some of the worst times of her life. The emptiness had only made it sting worse, but when Lloyd had reached out to her, she had refused him.

She had been scared, scared to let anyone else into her life in case she lost them too, but now she realized that he had been hurting just as much as she had. She knew his friends had gone off on their own like she had, leaving him just as alone as the rest of them. She had been the cause of that, she had only hurt him more when he was already going through so much.

When she spoke again, it wasn’t just for the situation at present.

“I’m sorry, Lloyd. I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at the screen, his watery green eyes staring into hers, then raised an arm, his fingers ghosting the screen, before falling back to his side. He looked away, swallowing.

“What is it?”

“I just… I wish I could hug you. I wish you were here. Like, actually.”

“I am much more useful in the computer, Lloyd.”

“Yeah, but you’re not… you’re not here. I don’t care about how useful you are.”

Pixal let out a trembling breath, but Lloyd hardly seemed to notice, already beginning to stand up. “Sorry about being such a downer. I better get back to the Bounty, I’m sure the police have something for me to do.”

“Lloyd?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I just… they’ll be back soon. I know they aren’t like… other people. They’re going to come back. And besides, until then, I’ve got you, right?” He gave her a shy smile.

Pixal froze. This was it. He was extending- a metaphorical- hand to her. Offering her to be part of something that she had been wanting for a long time.

But it felt wrong. She wasn’t a ninja. She wasn’t one of his teammates. What if she was assuming wrong? What if he wasn’t really asking that?

“I’m not one of the ninja, Lloyd. I can’t help you the way they can.”

“No, you’re whoever you want to be, Pix. But you’re still my friend.”

Friend. Pixal felt a sudden urge to correct him, to tell him he was mistaken. “I’m not part of your team. I… I can’t be.”

“Trust me, Pix- in every sense that matters- you are one of us.”

---

“Pixal, I need my car! Now!”

The nindroid’s voice came out slightly crackly from the radio. “Your coordinates, Master Lloyd?”

“I’m somewhere around… well, you know how to find me.”

The cable he was gripping onto slowed to a stop, then quickly began to swing back down. Squeezing his eyes shut, Lloyd prayed that Pixal knew what she was doing, and let go.

Air whipped past him as he fell freely, the fall feeling both agonizingly slow and alarmingly quick at the same time, but before he had time to question what the hell he was doing, a blur of green darted out from a nearby alleyway, and Lloyd fell into his car.

He quickly pulled himself up and took over the controls. “Impeccable timing, Pix! You’re getting good at that.”

“I have to do something while you’re busy fighting crime, don’t I?”

“Speaking of which…” Lloyd cut off, gritting his teeth as he wove in between cars on the busy street, chasing after the biker. “Who is this person? Anything you can tell me about them?”

“They appear to be affiliated with the same criminal biker gang we have been having trouble with over the last few weeks. I am afraid I cannot tell you anything other than that. They have been keeping a very low profile.”

“Well, whoever they are, they’re good. I’ll keep you posted.” Gritting his teeth, he pushed on the gas and shot through the streets after the mysterious biker. They were a skilled driver, but Lloyd wasn’t lacking in that department either, and soon, he had caught up to the biker. The person’s eyes glowed an eerie red through their mask, their expression emotionless, and Lloyd forced his gaze away for a moment to examine the object in the back of his bike- presumably the stolen item. It was a red mask, with an ugly, beast-like face patterned over the top, complete with a mouth of crooked, yellowing teeth, and deep, glowering eyes. It looked like nothing more than a costume. Lloyd wondered what they could possibly want with it.

Putting on another burst of speed, he pulled in front of the biker, making them screech to a halt to avoid a collision. The two of them stared each other down, only a short stretch of road between them.

The criminal revved his engine, and suddenly, was racing towards Lloyd. Lloyd began to do the same, and just when he thought the biker was about to hit him head-on, mechanical arms extended from the bike, driving into the road, and sending the biker flying over his head. Lloyd slammed to a halt and jumped out of the car, running over to the bridge as the biker went over the edge. He yanked something near his chest, and all of a sudden, a big sheet was billowing out from his back, gray and black and red-

Lloyd’s breath caught in his throat as the parachute unfolded fully, revealing the emblem of a face that Lloyd had never thought he would see again.

No, no, no. Lloyd stumbled back from the railing, his breath hitching in his chest as he tried desperately to draw it in. This doesn’t mean anything. Perhaps they just are a fan of Garmadon, it doesn’t mean he’s here-

But it wasn’t working. His body just wasn’t listening to him, his heart beating too fast, his breath trembling and shallow, and his head-

“Lloyd!” A voice came from seemingly out of nowhere, and in his panicked state, he couldn’t, he couldn’t-

“Lloyd, it’s Pixal. What’s happened, why aren’t you responding?”

Oh. It was Pixal, on… on the radio. With trembling fingers, he reached down and switched on his mic. “...Pix?”

“Lloyd, don’t scare me like that, what’s wrong?”

“Pixal… Pixal, I don’t know…” Oh gosh, he was spiraling, spiraling hard, panic swamped his brain as images of his father flashed before his eyes, first running off with the golden weapons, then trying to kill him when the Overlord had taken over, then when he had submerged under the ocean, down, down, down with the Preeminent-

No! Lloyd’s eyes snapped open, scattering the images. He couldn’t be thinking about this now, not- not when-

Oh gosh. His father couldn’t be involved with this gang, he couldn’t. He was gone, gone for good. He missed him, so, so much, but nothing with his father was ever that simple. Something always went wrong, and Lloyd was just beginning to get over his last death, he couldn’t- couldn’t live through the pain again-

“Lloyd, Lloyd listen to me, just try to breathe-”

He could barely hear her. His legs had stopped working, and he sunk to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to remember to breathe. The last thing he needed was to pass out from lack of oxygen.

He buried his face between his knees, gulping through the sobs. Dammit, why was he like this, he hadn’t had an episode this bad since Morro-

And now he was thinking about that part of his life, one he had so desperately hoped to forget- it had been years, why was still not over that, he had gotten good at suppressing those feelings long ago, but when he got like this, he couldn’t control anything-

He hated when he got like this, it was so terrifying, he just wanted to go home, he just wanted Kai to be here, why was he always all alone-

Suddenly, firm, cool arms were wrapping around him, pulling him close. Lloyd gasped, his eyes flying open sharply.

A pair of glowing green eyes stared back at him, shadowed with fear. “Hey,” she whispered, her metallic jaw moving with the words, “I’m here now. You’re going to be okay.”

He had lost it, he was hallucinating, how was- how was she here-

“Pixal?!”

“Yeah,” her voice was quiet, rubbing her fingers across his palm. “It’s me. I’m here.”

“How?”

“I’m Samurai X, Lloyd.”

“Oh.” Vaguely, a part of his mind told him he should be more surprised by that piece of information, but he was just tired. His mind was already on overdrive, he couldn’t afford to take in anything else.

“Lloyd.” Pixal’s voice was scared, and he realized he was trembling in her grip. “Please, what has happened to you?”

“It’s- it’s…” Lloyd gasped for breath. “My dad, he- the biker, he was- he had-” and those words alone were too much. Everything was breaking, splintering apart right in front of his eyes, and he clutched onto Pixal like she was his lifeline- in a way, she was. She felt different from Kai’s warm, soft touch- harder and cooler- but sturdier and stronger, too. And right now, Lloyd could use a bit of strength.

But most of all, she was here.

“Why did you tell me?” He managed to get out. “Out of everyone, you told me first? Not Zane?”

Pixal was silent for a moment. “I know what it’s like. I mean, not exactly- I can’t feel what you are feeling right now. But… feeling emotions has been hard. Draining. You, out of all people, seem to know that. But you’re still so strong through everything. I just… you helped me to see how to heal. How to get better.” She paused, looking down at her hands. “But I guess it doesn’t always work out that way. I figured it was about time I helped you back.”

He leaned his head into her lap, examining her long, silver fingers, brushing them gently. “I like you like this. You’re pretty.”

He wasn’t looking at her face, but he could almost feel her smile. “Thank you. I worked hard to make this. I wanted to make sure… that I was better, this time. I still have some modifications to make, but…”

Lloyd winced, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry I made you show me before you were ready.”

“Lloyd,” she said firmly. “This was my choice. Not yours.” She took one hand and turned his chin so their gazes met, green on green. “I trust you. I always have.”

Lloyd felt his lip tremble. “I-”

Pixal stopped him. “It’s okay, Lloyd. You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Lloyd curled into her side and wept.

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #ninjago lloyd #ninjago pixal #hope you guys enjoyed!#this was really fun to write #i finished it in like three days wow look at me actually being productive for once #but yeah pixal is underrated and i needed to be sure to add her at least once into this found family event #because she's just as much a part of the team as any of them ❤

60 notes · View notes

miraculouscontent · 3 years

Text

(miraculous asks)

Anonymous said:

Oh My Gosh!!!! I was just thinking about Party Crasher and man I hate how they had Ladybug get captured for the men to save! It's a continuous thing you see in media: strong heroic woman gets put in peril so that the men can shine. I didn't even realize it until you said it! I get that it was probably meant to be a "role reversal" of Chat always getting kidnapped or brainwashed for Ladybug to save, but the fact that this is the "guys' episode" it read like "well damn, we can't have the guys be strong if a girl is in the way; let's have the girl get captured so the boys can prove their worth by rescuing her!".

At least in Sandboy, Ladybug was still competent and came up with the plans, but this?! It makes me sick, and it's all too easy to fall into these traps; even Kim Possible did it! In my magical girl story, the heroine does get put in a magical coma and require someone to bail her out, but it's her female friends AND her boyfriend who save her, so it's not just a girl being weakened so a boy can be powerful, especially since said boy actually does a minority of the work required to save her; the focus is on the female characters so it's her girl friends who do most of it. I still ended up scrapping that side plot anyway, and do you know why? Because regardless of who saved her, I still didn't want my female protagonist to be put in distress at all due to the unfortunate implications! Needing help in a fight? Sure. But outright being captured or kidnapped? Nah fam.

I was honestly thinking about that when the first episode came out. Like, they could’ve just had Marinette NOT SHOW UP in time so the guys take care of things, which at least gives more of a message that Paris wouldn’t go to hell just because Ladybug is a little late or something.

And yeah, the “boys squad episode so gotta toss the girl out” is... sigh.

Anonymous said:

I think the writers were trying to show Chat angsting to show his regret instead of an actual apology. Still doesn't explain why Aeon didn't bring up her death afterwards. Did Olympia delete that from her memory banks?

I guess? :|

I don’t know why Chat can’t just apologize without fishing or trying to earn sympathy. Like JUST SAY YOU’RE SORRY, DAMMIT.

Anonymous said:

If you haven't read Maribat, then you won't regret it. I am not in the DC universe but I started reading it and WOW. Literally every single time Marinette is a badass queen and gets her complete revenge and is actually happy! Even if you absolutely love Lukanette (which I have nothing against) you should totally try it.

Appreciate the comment, but I find it hard to ship other Marinette ships outside of Lukanette. Ivanette is a very loose exception and it’s not like I ship it hard or anything.

Anonymous said:

Despite not being a Lukanette shipper I love you. Why? Because you amazing, so right in literally everything and I love you <33

gkdfjgfdngjkfdg thank you

bat-anon said:

The NY Special made it so that Max is literally the only Black/Brown kid that doesn’t exist to make Love Square happen and that just makes me hate it even more.

I wish you didn’t make me have this realization because I hate it.

At least Delmar existed in the New York special???? I guess???? I dunno, I’m trying here, I don’t recall him doing anything love square centric.

Anonymous said:

I honestly don't mind Alix's outfit as Bunnix! I feel like it fits her, plus she's an adult so its not much of a problem, not saying it can't be improved however. I DO have issues with the designs for the underage girls outfits however....those are very sus

Yeah, the problem I take with Bunnyx’s is that it’s a bodysuit. If there was just more definition, like having actual boots, I wouldn’t complain as much.

Anonymous said:

I actually just really like the idea of the new bee being a genuinely nice person who becomes friends with Marinette. Not exactly close friends (since I like the idea of friendly working relationships without actual personal stakes in them). I also enjoy the idea of the new bee having some small animosity for Chat Noir- just because their personalities aren't the greatest mix. I also think that it would make sense for the miraculous of subjection to be at odds with the miraculous of destruction

Full agreement but we know how much the writers are resistant to have characters go against Chat.

Anonymous said:

Not gonna lie the scene where the girl squad gets akumatized almost makes it seem like they got akumatized on purpose, similar to Manon in Puppeteer 2(although she was a little kid who was probably just imagining she could enact revenge). And why can't they have a uniformed design, like they're a team but wear different colors, similar to the Sailor Senshi(like, Alya's the leader and wears orange, Rose wears pink, Alix wears green, Juleka wears purple, and Mylene wears yellow). It's so boring.

Mood.

Not to mention that WE ARE SO TIRED OF THEM GETTING AKUMATIZED INTO THE SAME AKUMA.

AT LEAST PALETTE SWAP THEM.

Anonymous said:

Relating to the Didn't Need Burrows and Treatment of Marinette bingo cards, have you considered making one for whenever the show fails at girl power? It could say things like "sexualized frames of teenage girls" "boy tells girl what to do" "girls don't get to keep Miraculouses", and "girls are forced to apologize whenever a situation goes wrong". And in the center, it could say "Don't show this to your daughter!"! Lol! What do you think?

lol I feel like I have enough cards, otherwise I would.

Anonymous said:

I saw another post that talked about Miraculous New York, and they theorized that it was rewritten to focus more on Marinette and Adrien in order to get viewers invested in the Love Square again after more people started to lose faith in the ship. Do you think that's a possibility?

I think so. The whole special comes off as trying to reassure love square shippers because of how hard it goes for him. I cut out Marinette’s crushing and it cuts like 18% from the episode, meaning it’s even worse than Season 3 (15%).

Anonymous said:

Maybe the point of the [break-up episodes] is meant to discourage people from shipping Lukanette and Adrigami too?

Spoiler alert: didn’t work.

Anonymous said:

Are we not gonna talk about how in one ask, somebody legit said "(long dreamy sigh) Viperion"? Like same.

RIGHT????

Same.

Anonymous said:

Ml fandom: I hate how Ladybug keeps secrets from Chat Noir! He sacrifices himself for her all the time and she never appreciates him for it! He has EVERY right to get mad at her!!

ML Fandom when Chat Noir does the same thing in the special: ....Wow Ladybug was way to harsh on Chat Noir!! She doesn’t appreciate him at all!! Shes so mean to him!

i hate it

Anonymous said:

Idk if it's just me, but a majority of the fandom is split in two; it's never one or the other "MARINETTE SUCKS AND IS A HORRIBLE PERSON GUARDIAN MARY SUE WHO SEXUALLY HARRASSES" or "ADRIEN SUCKS HE WAS NEVER ON MARINETTES SIDE" but im personally on the latter, but not to that extreme. i hate videos bashing marinette and then never acknowledge adriens faults

Yeah, the fandom gets more divided as time goes on because of the writers trying to increase the drama/tension.

Anonymous said:

I am PERSONALLY offended they gave Luka the snake miraculous. Snakes have such a negative connotation. A lot of people insult Lila by calling her a SNAKE. And now those ML writers DARE insult the best character in ML?! HOW DARE THEY!?????

I adore Viperion but I agree that I first heard he was getting snake and was like, “BUT MY BOI???”

It gets awkward too because other animals like the pig have negative connotations, like how Daizzi basically means “idiot/stupid” and they’re giving it to the freaking blond character, really???

Anonymous said:

I think that Ivanette would be even better if Marinette was plus-sized character.

I see why you’d think that. I just disagree because then it turns the ship into “let’s pair the heavyset characters together because they heavyset.”

Anonymous asked:

On the topic of romance failures and general series salt, my main issue right now is how the series puts so much focus on romantic relationships while failing to consider other levels of relationship or what they affect.

On the L² front I can completely buy Marinette being in love with Adrien. Most of the time she genuinely wants him to be happy and is ready to take a step back for him, however much it hurts. But in terms of romantic love? It. Is. A. Crush! But if we step back from the formula, what is there left between them? Their civilian relationship is held together by a “comedy” of errors and without that there is surprisingly little left. Well, besides two “best friends” desperately trying to make it happen because somehow they lost their individual characters and instead of being friends became matchmakers?

I too like Luka and Marinette together. Their relationship is pretty nice to see and all. But sometimes it feels like it happens in a dimension of its own, like the writers want to make the endgame clear in that the “sideships” can be easily cut out of the big “how they got together”-recaps. I especially miss reactions from and interactions with Juleka. She is Luka’s sister, Marinette’s friend, and IIRC someone aware of if not even a bit player in the great shipping game. She is in a prime position to step up and bring progress on all fronts: She can talk with Luka. She can either give Marinette helpful pointers or go “All in or nothing”, i.e. trying to make Marinette get her Adrien-feelings in order as she does not want her brother to get less than Marinette’s full heart. Similarly, she can counteract “friendly acts” and stop humiliating situations from escalating, or she herself can escalate them in the “All or Nothing”-scenario. Yet she remains basically a background character who gets little attention from the camera and almost no “non-focus identity”

As for Kagami, I may be too biased. *Any* positive Kagami/Marinette relationship is to me what Lukanette is to you. So naturally I have lots of opinions when it comes to her role ;) But can I just say that Adrien/Kagami is the weirdest ship for me? They have a few cute scenes and I think if they’d spend a lot more time together, they’d do each other good but I don’t know how they work. “No Hesitation” Kagami would lob Adrien’s head straight off with all his…everything. If we are meant to take Adrien’s love for LB seriously (and I guess we have to because how in the name of sanity is any form of the stated endgame gonna work otherwise???), how does Kagami fit into that picture as a girl who can hardly express emotions while Adrien is the definition of a guy who can not stop flirting or goes for all kinds of romantic gestures? Sometimes it feels more like a “social fit” and “Mommy/Daddy approves” kind of deal which is quite the shame! Normally I like these kind of relationships in fictions but they need a solid underlining or good development. One they haven’t and one the series has not been giving to anyone so far.

Yeah, the whole thing with the love square versus side ships ends up feeling extremely forced. Keeping Luka away and forcing Adrien into Lukanette episode are the biggest giveaways, basically a big fat sign that says, “We know Marinette would forget that Adrien exists if she hung around Luka for more than five minutes.”

AND YEAH, KAGAMI WOULDN’T PUT UP WITH ADRIEN’S GARBAGE. I liked Adrimi but it’s definitely more flawed than Lukanette.

Anonymous said:

Watched your opinion on the New York special and I agree with you. It was mediocre at best. It could have been something nice, like if they added Kagami and Luka, for example, so that we can get a bit of development from the new couples on season 4, so that it doesn’t feel rushed when they start dating on season 4. It could also be a good opportunity to see the other temporary heroes one last time, since Marinette technically has the miracle box.

They could have had an epic fight with the American Superheroes, maybe even giving the bee miraculous temporally to Aeon or Jess so that we didn’t need to see their awful and uncreative superheroes designs. It would have been nice if they made something more useful other than being characters that believe that Adrien and Marinette are “Meant to be”, like, we already got a ton of these already, couldn’t we get someone who didn’t feel something about this ship? It has so much wasted potential that I don’t even know how to start. Do you agree with anything I said?

I agree, yes. They could’ve easily thrown Luka/Kagami into the mix (or had Marinette/Adrien stay behind while flipping perspectives or something; flawed but they could make it work).

Anonymous said:

I'm rereading ladybugout and wow... the moment of silence after "chat deserves that kiss" gets me every time. Everyone stopping and just staring because wow he really just said that

Me whenever Chat Noir opens his mouth in the show.

Anonymous said:

I saw the Backwarder post you just talked about and yes, it is so totally ridiculous. They forgot another thing, though. Miraculous isn't just about comedy, action, and romance, it's about embarrassing Marinette. And the fact that almost everyone in the comments was acting like the medicine scene at the end was funny was just stupid and saddening to hear or read about, because it shows how people have been conditioned to hate and rally against Marinette without even realizing it. Granted, there was one lady who said it reminded her of her husband, so I guess that's okay(but all it means is that Adrien will be Marinette's--aka "his lady's"--husband like eeerrrgh!). And there was one person who said they liked that Juleka's advice because "If you're friend isn't willing to commit crimes for your happiness, is she even your friend?". But everyone else liked the ending. And I don't get the person who said we got "Subtle progression with Adrien and Marinette". We're right where we started.

Weeeeell, I understand the “comedy, action, romance” comment because all of those basically boil down to embarrassing Marinette or invalidating her. Comedy and romance goes without saying while action involves her dealing with Chat “Nice Guy” Noir.

Anonymous said:

Is it just me, or does Snow White's "Red Shoes" form look a lot like Marinette. I know, I know, Marinette is Chinese and Red Shoes is Korean, but they still look strikingly similar. They're bodies are really similar, too, but that might just be because animation tends to use eerily similar body types for its female characters on a whole. It's sad and it makes me think of how cute Marinette would be if she was fat. I also think Snow White was cuter than Red Shoes but that's kind of the point.

I think it’s the body type thing but that’s just a guess since I didn’t immediately make the connection.

I agree that Snow White is cuter.

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one who's never liked "destined to fail" characters? Basically this is when characters aren't allowed to be good at/succeed at something or else the whole universe will somehow fall apart. Think of how in The Amazing World of Gumball, if Richard gets a job, the world will be in complete and utter chaos. So he's better off as a lazy, bumbling dad. In Phineas and Ferb, Candace is always trying to rat out her younger brothers but if she gives up or succeeds something bad will happen.

TV Tropes put it the best: "Not only is she not allowed to succeed, but she's also not allowed to stop trying!"(conveniently under the Cosmic Plaything trope). I just don't like it because it shows that the writers just want to lead them on with the promise of success then snatch it away at the last minute. And now we're back at Miraculous Ladybug, where Marinette is humiliated every time she doesn't sign a gift that's for Adrien, and yet when she does, everyone in Paris DIES. Except for...HIM.

you: *mentions Candace*

me: [a million awful flashbacks]

Also, yeah, it’s so hard to watch, especially in “Chat Blanc” because it’s like, “Oh, you want to give a gift to a boy and you dArEd to use your powers for it? Congrats, but everyone else is DEAD and you can hang out with him as much as you want! You’re welcome!”

Anonymous said:

I think it’d become a “faintest idea blackout card”rather than a bingo.

(referring to my “Faintest Idea” card)

We’re getting there.

darkmoonravewolf said:

I hate that everything on that list could happen and very likely will

(referring to “Didn’t Need Burrow”)

Yeah, and it makes me sad :’)

Anonymous said:

That’s be real here. Miraculous ladybug is not a show about Marinette; Miraculous Ladybug is a show about Adrien. Adrien is the real main character.

Notice that when they focused on Adrien in “Lies,” they only cut back to Marinette (IN A SCENE THAT CAN’T EXIST) to have her fawn over him.

Anonymous said:

Is it just me or are Lady Noire's eyes huge? Maybe it's just the green but they seem way bigger than Marinette's

I’m not sure, but considering Rena’s facial structure being different from Alya’s, it wouldn’t surprise me.

asexual-individual said:

With what you've said about Adrien lacking a reason to exist outside of development for Marinette and Gabriel, I have to wonder how different the show would be if Chat Noir's identity was also kept from the audience. Adrien would still be there as himself, but he only gets as much focus as Alya, and Chat Noir's identity is treated as a mystery (a Tuxedo Mask type mystery, but a mystery all the same).

I see what you mean but it might cause Adrien+Chat’s screentime to feel excessive once the reveal happens, because suddenly their screentime gets combined and it’s like, “oh wow so the combined screentime is his then.”

Anonymous said:

I know that the kwami's really only exist so we can hear our protagonists' thoughts outloud (like what the Coraline movie did with adding Wybie to the story). But honestly, what's the point in having magical gods in the jewelry if you're not going to do anything with them?

Marketing with “cute” side characters.

guisendisguise said:

It's funny, originally, I had shipped Marichat in the sense that Chat and Mari start hanging out and both fall in love with the other's supposedly less perfect, more real selves. Then Luka was introduced and I ended up putting both lukanette and marichat at the same level. Then S3 hit and killed any love I had for Marichat. The writers themselves killed the Love Square for me. At this point, it's very clear they are living in a delusion where the Love Square could ever work narratively without Deus ex Machina or Deus Lo Vult (God wills it). Basically, they've gone past scraping the bottom of the writing skills barrel and are now shoulder deep in the hole they dug thru the bottom of said barrel. I'd like to point out that the bottom of the barrel is writing poop and now they're digging thru the useless plastic landfill the barrel was sitting on top of

Uggggh, yeah. Any appreciation I could’ve had for Marichat died in “Weredad.” I already didn’t like Adrien/Chat and then “Weredad” just showed his complete lack of... well, ANYTHING.

cosmostellar said:

Honestly feels like MLBs writers are going based off the "JUST IMAGINE EVERY POC CHARACTER YOU'RE WRITING AS WHITE" instead of, yknow, fleshing them out while developing them also in the context of their cultures and giving them these little things that the audiences who belong to the same minority can identify with. I don't mean "have Marinette walk in qipao 24/7" bcs thats just... bad on its own but man, /some/ casual acknowledgments of her culture would be nice.

Reading the sentence “JUST IMAGINE EVERY POC CHARACTER YOU'RE WRITING AS WHITE” physically hurts me.

Anonymous said:

Ok, I've always thought that Chloe was robbed of redemption (they held it in front of us, but then jerked it away while Astruc says, "She's irredeemable! We thought she was redeemable, but she wasn't :)!" What are your thoughts! Also, I just recently found your blog and I really like it :)

Thank you!

But I have no sympathy for bully characters, so I didn’t want Chloe redeemed. Maybe I’m still bitter about my own bullying experience, but I just wasn’t here for Marinette being forced to forgive Chloe, which is basically what they did until they backpedaled.

The time spent on her was wasted though and that I can agree on.

Anonymous said:

Me: Writes a 1k rant about how the tweet makes no sense as the "mistake" is about motivation and not the critical plot. Also me: Remembers that in MLB the plot always comes back to the romance. Finally me: Wonders why he got involved with the series post-S3 when all the red flags were already everywhere.

Mistakes were made.

Anonymous said:

I'm semi-catching up on miraculous, and- is it my impression, or does Kagami rebel against her mother more in few episodes she's in (even though her mother's influences on her seem to be stronger in general), than Adrien in the entire show? I /know/ that I don't want to see Adrien free himself from his father w/ the desperation I want to see Kagami free herself from her mother and realize that the standards she's held up to are unhealthy and too strong.

Yeah, I’m way more invested in Kagami than Adrien.

Anonymous said:

Am I the only one confused about whether the staff stopped caring and half-asses the series or cares too much and over-produces the hell out of it?

Nah. It really feels like they secretly hate the love square so they have to keep forcing it.

Anonymous said:

ngl I haven't watched any new episodes since Chameleon and I've been getting all that Miraculous News via tumblr to avoid that Marinette Brand Second Hand Embarrassment™

Understandable.

Anonymous said:

If they aired the 6th one first WHAT WHAT HAPPENED TO LEAD UP TO THIS???? WE ARE ON SEASON FOUR WITH TWO SPEICALS, GETTING A THIRD, AND ANY DEVELOPMENT WE HAD HAS GONE BACKWARDS, SUCKED, OR STATUS QUO YO-ED AWAY!!!!! HOW THE HECK DO WE GET ADRIENETTE FROM FOUR SEASONS OF NOTHING?????? I USED TO FANGIRL AT THIS NOW I AM TERRIFIED.

Answer: We don’t get Adrienette. We get forced love square and rushed/fake “development” of it while being constantly confused as episodes air out of order.

Anonymous said:

im sorry But adrienette has been suck in this limbo of one sidedness for 3 seasons. neither of them have become closer, neither of them have confided in one another, but somehow people still ship it? at least luka was able to make a move on marinette lol adrien still repeats the same boring “shes just a friend” line. adrienette is a really boring ship.

lol don’t apologize, you’re absolutely right.

nahte123456 said:

Very minor bit of salt to throw to the pile, but can this show just decide on how strong Miraculous holders are? Yes it's a cartoon and not the focus but in the Furious Fu episode we literally get Ladybug dodging lighting and then Su who seems mostly human and is at least slower then Fu was outspeeding her. It's distracting trying to figure out what is and isn't a serious threat in this show.

The deciding factor in the strength of the miraculous holders is “whatever works for the plot.”

Anonymous said:

At this point the only thing I'm excited for concerning Miraculous Ladybug is when it gets a reboot in like, a decade with actually competent writers

Best case scenario is that Zag goes bankrupt and Disney/Netflix picks up the series and gives it to competent people.

Problem is that the love square has been ruined so badly for me that even a “good” version of it wouldn’t be something I’d be into, but still.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the problem with having all of Marinette's mistakes result in huge disasters (ex. Feast), is that is gives off the impression that teenagers aren't allowed to make mistakes. This show clearly doesn't like giving second chances to the protagonist, so why would life give one to you? Am I right, kids?

Exactly.

Marinette makes mistakes and suddenly the world is ending.

Anonymous said:

If your gonna watch the show, at least pirate the episodes so the writers dont get your support

Don’t worry, I have no interest in financially supporting the show.

Anonymous said:

ml in a nutshell: wasted potential, then giving themselves more potential, only to turn the rest of it into a dumpster fire

Yup, that’s it.

Anonymous said:

u know, when My Little Pony, Sofia The First, and fanfiction carries out character development, respect, romance, and the main plot better than the original show, especially when the shows mentioned above are aimed more at little girls and the original show is aimed at slightly older audiences... somethings wrong

*sigh*

And then it’s like--people will excuse the show because “it’s a kids’ show” and then I’m just “okay then, why are there actually good kids’ show?”

If shows get a pass for being for children then all childrens’ shows should just not try and be garbage since the standard is so low.

Anonymous said:

ive seen some cool fic ideas/concepts/reviews that made me think: ml could use so much more looking into how a character thinks in some situations. one fic i read had alya in chameleon (i know its been forever since the ep came out but hey) not question lila cus she thought: "hey, lb wouldnt befriend a bad person" w and added a plot line of lila making her think lb was cobsidering replacing rena rougue. like, just a few lines to make them seem better pls?

YES. Like, show us characters’ perspectives and why they’re rolling with the facts that they’re rolling with, otherwise they just end up looking like jerks.

We sort of got it in “Ikari Gozen” with Kagami but of course it was just to make Marinette look bad.

Anonymous said:

You know I’m honestly considering making reviews of this show and if I do I could create hour long rants about the show just from that mans twitter.

Yeaaaaaah, once you had in the Twitter stuff, it just becomes, “okay so this is going to add another hour or two then.”

Anonymous said:

Okay one thing that bothers me is how plain marinette's suits are despite being a DESIGNER. Her multimouse suit it just blocks of color and her ladynoir suit is just grey with green lines. I think the lines are supposed to represent actually clothes. Like the limes on the calves are supposed to make it look like boots but why not actually GIVE her boots. (Right, because she has to have a skintight suit unlike the boys who get some layers.)

THE SHEER DISRESPECT OF HAVING THE FASHION DESIGNER WEAR SUCH A PLAIN SUIT.

It also goes to show who really designs here, like oh, interesting, the girls get skin-tight simplistic bodysuits and the boys gets all the cool stuff--

Anonymous said:

I heard some people in my class saying they watched Miraculous Ladybug for the first time, and they were saying how good it was, and I was like: 'Oh you poor fools. You have NO idea what it's truly like.'

You know what they say: ignorance is bliss.

bat-anon said:

Isn’t it INTERESTING how in Frozer, Luka understands that Marinette is torn between her crushes and continues to support her even though he knows she probably won’t chose him, and in the exact same episode Chat Noir refuses to help save the city because Ladybug told him AGAIN that she wasn’t romantically interested in him? HMMM 🤔😑

dbfgjbdfjkgf

I’M REMINDED OF “FELIX” WHERE IT’S LIKE--THEY WERE CLEARLY TRYING TO SHOW HOW MUCH “BETTER” CHAT NOIR IS THAN FELIX, BUT LUKA WAS THE RESPECTFUL ONE.

Anonymous said:

You know what I want to see? An evil kwami, like they just want to commit crimes. No moral high grounds, just chaotic evil.

That’d be amazing just because I wouldn’t be able to take them seriously.

Anonymous said:

Watching S1 and S3 episodes back to back, it feels like reading salt fics at times, especially in regards to the L². Like, Marinette was happy about weird plans, she both needed and wanted the final push, and most of the time there was at least something coming out of it. Nowadays it just makes her sad, Alya and the girls act *against* her, and we get shipping for shipping's sake.

That’s a good point. The shift from Seasons 1 to 2 to 3 is rather noticeable.

Anonymous said:

I hate how Adrien's busy schedule seems to only matter when it's used to make Marinette feel bad, but the second Marinette has a bit more to do, it somehow has a negative effect on not only her, but also everyone/everything she cares about, like, what's up with that??

I’m reminded of “Lies” here and I hate it. :|

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the way the show treats teenage girls is horse ass. The show treats the teenage girls of this show as if they're stupid, naive, emotional, clumsy, and need a boy to tell them what opinions to have. Marinette is always treated like the show's punching bag and blamed for everything that goes wrong because she's "emotional" or "obsessed with Adrien", Chloe could've been redeemed but the writers would rather keep her a brain-dead Alpha Bitch Valley Girl(even though Gabriel and Felix, the latter of whom is a teenage boy introduced in one episode, get to be treated as redeemable, despite the things they do being far, far worse), and Lila is a conniving, self-absorbed fox.

And even though Kagami seems better, she's still roped into the "girls catfight over an oblivious guy" cliche and so far, all of her akumatizations have been because of Adrien. Whenever Marinette tries to move on from Adrien the other characters tell her what's good for her and steer her in the "right" direction because she apparently can't think for herself, and the writers LOVE to use the girl squad to tell us who Marinette should be with, because they apparently know better than she does.

Plus the show loves to treat all the girls as the same, making them all either fight over Adrien or be obsessed with shipping, as if teenage girls are all one assimilating, homogenized group(also when they treat Marinette as if she's "just as bad as Chloe", rinse and repeat for the other ladies.). Honestly, the show feels like it was written by those types of people who think "teenage girls are the worst" so they make them all mood-swingy, obsessive, showoffs, emotional, and downright clingy.

Plus the way Thomas Astruc talks about the female characters on Twitter is even worse, and only serves to make this more evident: he claims Marinette "has poor control over her emotions"(all the while calling Adrien "perfect"), that Chloe was racist in Kung Food "because she's stupid"(so rather than having that scene serve as a lesson on respecting other's cultures, he just did it to pick on Chloe and make her look "stupid"), that she's incapable of being redeemed, that Lila's unlikable but Gabriel and Felix aren't(even though he claimed Felix was a terrible character and a "cliche", that's not what the show says my guy), and other such nonsense.

Other Twitter users have also called out Miraculous Ladybug and its stereotypical treatment of teenage girls. The only shows I've ever seen do this worse are those pretentious "darker" Magical Girl "deconstructions" aimed at grown men such as Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna, as well as most shonen/seinen shows such as Naruto and Death Note, which says a lot. Honestly, whenever I feel like watching a show with empowering and respectful depictions of teenage girls that treats them as bright and intelligent and actually unique from one another, I just watch Equestria Girls, Liv and Maddie, LoliRock, ANT Farm, Moesha, PreCure, or Sailor Moon. Because the way the show acts towards them is deplorable, absolutely deplorable.

Yes to all of the above. Almost all of the girls are involved in love affairs in some way, the two teenage girls are irredeemable while Felix got a sympathetic backstory right away (Chloe took forever to get hers which is a failure), and Marinette is flawed because she’s “too emotional” (a misogynistic stereotype).

Anonymous said:

Hi, I'm the anon who got upset at the lady who made the "Miraculous Ladybug is a Mess" rant, and yes, thank you zodiacspirit17 for liking and agreeing with my rant! I'm glad someone else saw that video! And ugh, Marinette learning to love Chat Noir? Really? I don't remember that line but I also don't want to go back and revisit it to make sure so I'll take your word for it. Ew. That was actually one of the things I hated about the Glaciator scene. Chat was supposedly comforting Marinette by taking her to the rooftop where he planned Ladybug's date, and yet only Marinette finds out about Chat's crush on Ladybug and comforts him on that(while rethinking her feelings), while all Chat knows is that Marinette's heart was also broken. He never asks who it is, or tries to help her get over her crush even if he doesn't know it's coincidentally him.

I know it's because of the "love square" but it's unfair that only Chat's love problems are directly addressed. Come to think of it, the reason Chat took Marinette to the rooftop...I know he was doing it in-universe to help her instead of intruding on her personal feelings(which might have also been why he didn't ask her who her crush was, he was probably thinking along the lines of "we don't have to talk about it right now, we can just have fun!"), but meta-wise, since we know she's Ladybug, the writers were probably trying to tell her "See? This is what you could've been doing, but you missed it. Shame on you!" That's a huge issue I have with the show: characters will do things in-universe to help Marinette, but the show has a different motive in mind. Compare to how Tikki gave actual advice to Marinette in Puppeteer 2, but the writers intended that for the statue scene so they could embarrass her in front of Adrien and the thousands of eyes watching the show(except we're not laughing.). Even if characters do support her, the writer is using them as props for her ritualized humiliation. And yet Luka is the problem somehow.

If Marinette needs to learn how to love Chat Noir, then it should at least be balanced out by Adrien learning to Marinette. I'm sick of this double standard that "girls need to learn to accept boys who like them but guys can do what they want". Another thing she said was that "Marinette needs to learn to define herself outside of who she's crushing on." NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. You see, unlike Adrien, Marinette HAS a life outside of who she's crushing on: she has school, she has Kitty Section, she has her "girl squad", she has her parents, she has her outside family, she babysits Alya's and Nino's siblings, and she has OH YEAH HER FASHION DESIGNING! I didn't even count being a superhero since Adrien does that, too. She has so many things to do outside of Adrien, and yet the fact that she makes gifts for Adrien or dreams about Adrien or wants to have kids with Adrien somehow makes her nothing but an "Adrien fangirl"?

First of all, she's the bloody protagonist?! That's such a "Real Women Don't Wear Dresses" argument, that she can't have her own life AND be in love at the same time! And somehow her crushing on Luka also means her life revolves around him, too! But Adrien's life doesn't revolve around Ladybug even though he doesn't really have anything going for him in his ordinary life? Outside of being rich, hot, white, and male, that is? What are his interests and hobbies, besides what Gabriel lets him do to pass the time? He doesn't even like modeling! And the Agreste plot is more about Gabriel, Emilie, and Nathalie than it is about him.

And what about his friendship with Nino? He didn't even care that Nino was getting strung along by Lila with the others! What about his friendship with Chloe that also waxes and wanes? Granted, Chloe's not a GOOD person, which that lady acknowledged, but she at least tried to change and has more development than him, the writers just won't let her change. I hate when people come for Marinette for doing literally anything when the show won't let her have agency and progress. It's so unfair of her and I wish they could see that. These double standards are driving me insane and they're sexist(maybe even a little bit racist, too), and it hurts even more when a woman's doing those things.

(I had to cut off some of this ask because I didn’t get all of it, so I cut it off at the point where it still seemed like a full ask.)

I FEEL THE “GLACIATOR” THING SO BAD. It hurts even worse when you realize that “Frozer” has to take place after “Glaciator,” so Chat Noir heard that Marinette has love problems and then ignored it to ask her for advice about his own love problems later on. The total lack of insensitivity???

Also, the idea that Marinette’s life would revolve around her crush on Luka is stupid. It’s the exact opposite, in fact.

Meanwhile, Adrien has so little going for him and the “interesting” parts of him involve who he’s connected to or what his father has forced him into.

61 notes · View notes

nikkoliferous · 3 years

Text

Phase One: Avengers (Part Two)

Apparently I had so much to comment on this crappy book that I had to break this up into two parts (you can read part one here). No, I have nothing to say for myself. Lol

Let’s continue.

Clint Barton and Loki’s hand-picked strike team were in a stolen Quinjet with a faked S.H.I.E.L.D. call sign, 26-Bravo. That got them close enough that by the time the air-traffic officer on the Helicarrier knew something was wrong, it was already too late.

Whoa whoa whoa. I thought you said Loki didn’t care about the details. I thought you said such things were beneath him. Make up your mind.

With a last heave and twist, she freed herself from the fallen beam and ran. At that moment, the Hulk turned and saw her. She vaulted up a stairway and onto the next level. The Hulk swiped at the stairway and shredded it into scrap metal. Loki had gotten what he wanted. He must have been trying to time it so he could manipulate Bruce into becoming the Hulk right as his soldiers came to attack the Helicarrier. The Hulk would do at least as much damage from the inside as the rogue Quinjet could do from the outside.

Yes. Yes, he did. Lol

Natasha kept running, and the Hulk came right behind her. For a moment, she thought she’d lost him, but then he came at her out of the shadows, roaring. He was like walking rage, a single-minded engine of destruction. She shot a hole in the pipe over his head. Steam shot out of it into the Hulk’s eyes, stopping him for just the moment she needed to get a head start. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew she wasn’t going to stay away from him for long. He came after her, smashing through bulkheads and doorways like they weren’t even there and roaring the whole time.

Mood, though.

Steve got to the edge of the turbine mount about the same time as Tony. “I’m here!” he called out.

“Good,” Tony said, dropping into view and hovering in the Iron Man armor to survey the wreckage. He had the suit on, and Steve could hear his voice through the earbud microphone all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel wore. At least that channel was still intact; if they lost communications, they’d be done for.

Convenient. Clint would absolutely know this, which means either 1) he's incompetent, 2) he's not as mind-controlled as we think, or 3) Loki allowed/arranged for his own team's semi-failure.Take your pick.

“What’s it look like in there?” Tony asked.

“It seems to run on some form of electricity,” Steve said.

Tony was shoving loose huge pieces of debris that prevented the turbine blades from rotating. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he said.

Steve fumed. He wasn’t here for technical support. But that was all he could do at the moment.

Ironic for Steve to call out Tony for being useless without his suit when Steve is apparently useless at anything other than beating people up. Lol

Tony stood inside the turbine housing, looking at the blades. He’d cleared most of the debris jamming the rotors. “Even if I clear the rotors,” he said, “this thing won’t reengage without a jump. I’m going to have to get in there and push.”

“If that thing gets up to speed, you’ll get shredded,” Steve said.

Hey hey hey now, I thought Tony wasn't the type of guy to sacrifice himself??

The Hulk stomped around the flight deck, roaring. He saw Thor and swung a fist twice the size of Thor’s head. Thor caught it in both hands, straining to hold both the Hulk’s arm and his attention. “We are not your enemies, Banner,” he grunted. “Try to think!”

Now, where have I heard that before...?

In answer, the Hulk punched him through the wall.

Jealous.

Thor got up and watched the Hulk coming after him. Now this was a fight! He held out a hand, waiting for Mjolnir to return to him. Mjolnir smashed through another wall and reached Thor’s hand just as the charging Hulk came within striking distance.

What's a little bloodlust between friends, amirite?

The Hulk caught the hammer, and a fierce grin spread over his face… then he toppled backward and Mjolnir pinned him to the floor of the hangar.

None but I can lift Mjolnir, Thor thought. Not even this giant.

Yes, yes. You're very special, Thor. We're all super impressed, promise.

“You like this?” Coulson asked, meaning the gun. “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does.” He powered it up, and rings along its barrel glowed bright orange. “Want to find out?”

But Loki wasn’t there in front of him. Thor saw it too late to do anything. That Loki was an illusion… and the real Loki was behind Coulson.

Lokiception.

“You lack conviction,” Coulson said. He did not move from where he sat against the wall. Blood trickled at the corner of his mouth, and the enormous gun lay uselessly across his lap.

Of all the things Coulson might have said, this was perhaps the one Loki expected least. I have moved worlds out of conviction, he thought. Made bargains with beings who snuff out planets as an afterthought. “I don’t think I…”

"bargains"

“Tasha,” he said. “How many agents did I—?”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.” Better than maybe anyone on the Helicarrier, Natasha Romanoff knew you couldn’t blame yourself for things you did while you were brainwashed. All you could do was try to heal and get things right the next time.

OH? DO TELL.

“Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one,” Tony said. “But let’s do a head count here. Your brother the demigod, a Super-Soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins… and you, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan,” Loki said with a grin.

“Not a great plan,” Tony said.

YOU'RE RIGHT, TONY. IT'S AN OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE PLAN. NOW ASK YOURSELF WHY HE WOULD DO THAT ON PURPOSE.

“You’re missing the point!” he said, and his tone got sharper. “There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us… but it’s all on you. Because if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be sure we’ll avenge it.”

Weeeeeell...

With those last words, he tapped Tony on the chest with his scepter, just has he had Hawkeye and Dr. Selvig. Nothing happened. The Arc Reactor in Tony’s chest countered the scepter’s effect.

Loki tried it again. “This usually works.…”

“Well,” Tony said, “best-laid plans. You know the saying.”

Uncomfortable with mild swear words and dick jokes, I see. Lol

Look at this!” Thor shouted, holding Loki and forcing him to gaze out over the destruction in the city. “You think this madness will end with your rule?”

“It’s too late,” Loki said. Thor thought he was beginning to understand what he had done. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“No,” Thor said. “We can. Together.”

Loki looked him in the eye… and then betrayed Thor again, stabbing him in the side with a knife hidden in his sleeve. Thor dropped to the ground, clutching the wound. “Sentiment,” Loki said mockingly.

OH MY GOD. HE'S MOCKING HIMSELF, YOU ABSOLUTE KNUCKLEHEAD. I swear to god, this author sat down and went, "Hmm. How can I systematically erase any and all complexity this character possesses so he's as generic a villain as possible?"

CASE IN POINT:

On a bridge, Cap huddled behind a destroyed car with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Lots of civilians trapped up there,” Hawkeye said, indicating the nearby buildings. A flight of Chitauri went over, and Cap noticed something different about one of them.

“Loki,” he said. He was shooting at the civilians fleeing through the streets. “They’re fish in a barrel down there.”

It can be admittedly hard to tell because most shots of the Chitauri vehicles firing on people are from too far away to tell who's piloting... but I checked the clips from the Battle of NY and the only person Loki can definitively be seen firing at is Natasha. On another Chitauri whatever-you-call-them. Not even aiming for the street.

Thor was still watching the Chitauri zipping overhead. “I have unfinished business with Loki.”

“Yeah?” Hawkeye said. “Get in line.”

“Save it,” Steve said. “Loki’s going to keep this fight focused on us, and that’s what we need. Otherwise those things could run wild. We’ve got Stark up on top—”

Almost as if... according to plan...

Look, I have historically not bought into the full "Loki formed the Avengers so he could lose on purpose" theory because I feel that it contradicts the canon explanation that he was being influenced by the sceptre. But... you'd have to be an absolute moron to think he wasn't sabotaging himself, whether accidentally or on purpose. I suppose one could argue that just because it was amplifying his negative emotions, that doesn't necessarily mean it prevented him from working against his "allies". But if it wasn't affecting his actions at all, I don't know why they'd bother to confirm the theory as canon.

Also, like... according to this book, Loki is somehow targeting civilians and not targeting civilians at the same time ?? lmao

“Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Bruce was already walking toward the Leviathan. “That’s my secret, Captain,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m always angry.”

Same, tbh.

Thor reached the top of the Empire State Building and lifted Mjolnir. Storm clouds gathered and lightning struck down, hundreds of bolts reaching for Mjolnir. Thor turned the Empire State Building’s iconic spire into a lightning rod, gathering the force of the elements into it. Then he thrust Mjolnir in the direction of the portal. All the energy he had built up blazed out in a single forking bolt. It struck and destroyed every single Chitauri between the Empire State Building and the portal itself. Hundreds of them exploded and tumbled from the sky at once, including several of the Leviathans that tumbled down to smash into buildings below.

...so why didn't Thor just keep doing this for the rest of the battle? Too draining, or not exciting enough? Lol

Satisfied, Thor nodded and glanced over at the Hulk. Perhaps the scales were evened from their last fight against each other on the Helicarrier—

The Hulk shot out his left fist and smashed Thor all the way across the block-long gallery. Then it was his turn to look satisfied.

Jealous. Again.

Maybe that was just Loki, but Steve was starting to feel like the Chitauri were going to absorb every punch the Avengers could throw. They had to close that portal, or nothing was going to stop the invasion.

Well then. It sure is fortunate that Loki allowed Selvig to install a failsafe, huh?

Fury stood and listened to the World Security Council explain that they had decided to take the operation out of his hands. They were going to use a nuclear missile to destroy the Tesseract and close the portal—but at the cost of untold civilian lives. Fury protested as strongly as he could and one of the councilors cut him off. “Director Fury. The Council has made a decision.”

These crazy motherfuckers would have killed so many more people than Loki it's not even funny.

...and tbh, it probably wouldn't even have destroyed the Tesseract, so they would have killed them for literally no reason too.

The Hulk paused, confused.

“You are, all of you, beneath me!” Loki raged.

Not yet, sir, but I would very much like to be. 😏

She knelt next to him and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Selvig digested this for a moment and then said, “Actually I think I did. I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

Of note and as alluded to previously:

1) The mind control over Barton and Selvig was not absolute either; therefore, if they are not responsible for their actions over the course of this movie, Loki is not responsible for his either.

2) If The Other could hear everything Loki was up to, it's very likely that Loki could hear everything Barton and Selvig were up to as well. Meaning that, at a minimum, he knew about the failsafe and did nothing about it.

The missile had a lot of momentum built up, and Tony’s Mark 7 suit was not operating at full capacity after the amount of energy he’d expended in the battle already. It was no easy task to get the missile angled up sharply enough to clear the tallest buildings in Midtown—especially Stark Tower. That was where the missile seemed to want to go. So, Tony thought, the World Security Council is jealous of me, too.

Look, I get that he's mostly just being witty, but seriously... this dude is out here accusing Loki of being an egomaniac? Lol

He got underneath the missile and angled it upward, straining against its stabilizers, which tried to keep it on course. But slowly he forced it up, and once he got its warhead pointed at an angle, pushing it into a steeper climb got easier. A little.

Steve Rogers’s voice broke his concentration. “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip?”

So... you're admitting you were wrong, then? 🙃

The Avengers looked up. On the roof of Stark Tower, Natasha said, “Come on, Stark.”

They saw the explosion through the portal, brilliant as a new sun. There was no way Tony could have survived that.

I was wrong about him, Steve thought. When the time came, he did make the sacrificial play.

Thanks, Steve. That's really all I wanted.

Loki had just gotten himself put back together enough to get out of the hole in the floor. Painfully he dragged himself toward the door. Never had a mortal damaged him as much as that green monster. He would be healing for a long time.

He's literally in better shape now than when he came through the portal. And the author made zero mention of his health there.

But heal he would, and then he would have his revenge. Even though the portal had collapsed and he had lost the Tesseract. Even though his Chitauri army was destroyed. Loki would show the so-called Avengers they never should have opposed him.

Raise your hand if you watched Avengers and thought Loki was thinking about revenge right after getting Hulk-smashed. Why aren't any of you raising your hands??

Seriously, there are two emotions I felt from Loki at the end of Avengers Assemble: relief and anxiety. I have no idea why Alex Irvine is so intent on turning him into a boring, one-dimensional villain, but it made this book absolutely insufferable to read.

Anyway, that's it! I hope you all found this as entertaining and cathartic as I did. Lol

↩️ Back to Part One

#loki meta #loki #thor #tony stark #steve rogers #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #avengers assemble #mcu #phase one: avengers

54 notes · View notes

kentzarneki · 3 years

Text

garden of loneliness —

pairing: prince aerin x irileth nightbloom (f!elf mc)

synopsis: aerin and irileth remember each other in their dreams, both good and bad until they meet again.

word count: 2.7k

song: war of hearts — ruelle

author’s note: yeah, this has been in my drafts for months like around when blades ended. and it changed from the original version i made, so enjoy this new one and happy epilogue day. (also you should definitely listen to the song)

tags: @bladesappreciationweek @zadiechoi @eugenehartmann @diamondskys @beaumontbash @diserrano @jaxmatsuo

Aerin was always a lonely child.

Such was the life of a second child. Years spent being left out of your parent’s expectations and being taught that you’d only be needed as the last option. For the longest time, there’s nothing but darkness and the fear that maybe that’s all there is to life. Darkness, deep and inviting like the warm embers of a dying fire. Mesmerizing, but you stand still at the thought of getting burned. And fear, for most, it feels like nothing but a cold and lonely bed for your entire life. Like chills down your spine and nails down a chalkboard.

However, that's not how it was for him. No, Aerin knew what his darkness was. He had spent years nurturing it like a mother would a child, he cared for it, loved it even. The cold abyss that pulsed where his heart should. His heart was a different shape than most.

It was the imposing figure of his brother’s shadow and the heavyweight upon his head called the second prince’s crown. He knew this was this life, it’s what he was born into. Forever forced to play his role as the meek younger brother with a smile on his face. The spare prince. He could never be more than that, it’s what he was made to believe.

So he played his role with care. A smile here and there, until the shadows came along. Shadows wrapped in velvet cloaks and wore masks of sinister smiles. Made of something like a dream come true created back when he still had dreams to spare. A Duke of the shadows granted him everything he could ever want - his own kingdom, a place he could finally belong. It awaited him beyond the realm, but to get there he needed to collect the keys.

He turned into a Grim Reaper of souls, ambition, and body. His reverse Midas touch, where everything he touched turned to the darkness. The hands that once wiped his tears stole lost souls and bid them into his desires. Which led him here, deep beneath the halls of a palace he grew up in. All the time he could see his father reigning proceedings of judgment over betrayers and criminals false though his mind, he wonders if his new cell had belonged to one of them.

Often he finds his mind wandering like this, thoughts desperate to keep out of loneliness that crept in as reminders of his youth. On good days, his dreams take him back into the shadows. He dreams of a gilded throne, the blackened shadows of lost souls wander the palace as his subjects that live under the rule of his hand.

On bad days, he dreams of her. The parting kiss before his world, his lies would come crumbling down around them. She stood tall in his dreams, not faltering like the broken girl he had left behind. His words from that night echoed in his mind, “Until the stars align for us again…”.

She was the light. The single candle in the darkness, standing tall even in a broken house, the damaged windows blowing harsh air inside. Still never faltering, never bowing out. He took comfort in the fact she was out there, in the fact that her life had meaning. It brought him a sense of peace he never had before. The kind of peace that comes with love.

She was as beautiful as the flowers, in the garden he had grown up around. She stole the spotlight from the moon and held its light in her smile. She was everything he could ever want and more.

But not really, no. He knew the truth of what he wanted - what he was. The monster within, the one that seemed to tamed just from the flicker of her smile. He knew it would destroy her.

He would destroy her.

ii.

Irileth was always a loving child.

It started with her parents, a love so deep for someone she had never known. Grief buried deep in her chest that acted like poisonous fertilizer to the flowers that had grown in her heart. It was a garden she had kept locked for most of her life despite her never-ending desire to be loved.

Which led to a young boy, the prince built from broken dreams to her door. His presence holding the key to what seemed like her salvation, a place to lay down all this love she’d been holding within herself. He was the empty chalice just begging to be overflowing with devotion, the only kind of devotion she couldn’t seem to give up.

Yet, she couldn’t stop thinking that it was real. Even a fraction of what he’d said, false charm hidden behind a stone in his chest. It had to be real. She thought back on his words, sickeningly sweet like raw syrup. She’d lapped up every word that dripped from his mouth like a dog, ravenous for something she’d never had. Love. The hungry, orphaned girl begging to be loved by the boy with everything. She took table scraps of his devotion and tokens of his affection all laced with dark deceit.

Still, there’s love there. Mixed into his secrets and lies, not everything could be lost to the shadows and she’d go to war if she had to just to prove it. But, still, she’s holding onto hope that if she finds the right words she can save him. She could have saved him.

The memories find her in the dark, all of her nightmares trace back to him. The shadows singing in the air, something dark and twisted as if it was a melody to grant false serenity. There was no serenity in her dreams, nothing but shadows threatening to chase her from the dark places they’d hidden as they waited to strike. There was no serenity, but there was love. Love deep within her, it gripped her and told her heart that it was here to stay.

Her words bounce around in her head, “Aerin, all I want is to be with you.”.

And when she wakes tears are threatening to spill from her eyes, and she lets in a deep breath. It was the truest thing she’d ever meant because even this way he still looked like the boy she loved. But she needed to save him, save him from himself - or from the world who would never accept him like this.

She took a timid step forward and he didn't do anything, but his eyes locked hard onto hers. His face is stoic as if he didn’t want to let any emotions show. The look of fear that filled her face when she first saw him like this - as a monster, it was stuck in his head. This wasn’t new. He always was a monster. Sickly grey, black veins stretching out as if to carve his skin into marble. Marble - what a perfect thing, easily carved into a sculpture. Something to turn into art, which is how she saw him even like this.

“You’d still have me? Even as I am?” His voice whispers in her dreams.

Every night, she watches as he’s dragged away to the dungeons below and wonders if she would ever see him again. His face was twisted with rage, as he pulled him away still when his eyes locked on hers, she could see the pain. His heartbreak.

In her daydreams. she sees him again. Hands touching his, her fingertips black to the touch as their skins touch. Her warm skin turning cold as a curse washes over her like waves on the shore, her skin the color as asphalt and veins like cracks in the pavement that hold a dark secret only she could home.

She could have him. Sickly grey, broken, and bruised but all her’s. The spare prince that no one had wanted, the lost girl that no one had found could build a kingdom to tear the world to shreds. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to dive into the darkness that lived within him. Not yet.

And she left wondering, how do you let go of a love you were never able to experience? Maybe they were meant to be, maybe not in this life but the next. Because time is still passing by and she still thinks about him each time she looks up at the sky. It’s like she’s waiting to see him in the stars, where he’s more than just a memory in her heart and he’s right there in every passing face.

There’s no shadow that could ever replace him.

iii.

The dungeon was always a lonely place.

The shadows sang in the air, something dark and twisted as if it was a melody to grant false serenity. There was no serenity down here, nothing but shadows threatening to chase her from the dark places they’d hidden as they waited to strike. There was no serenity, but there was love. Love deep within her, it gripped her and told her heart that it was here to stay. To stay for him.

So her feet carry her in, being here in person was nothing like her dreams. She hadn’t needed to ask where he was before going in. She’s told the poor king she needed closure. A small smile tugged at his lips when he heard this, he understood the feeling well.

She can hear his footsteps before she even rounds the corner, he’s pacing around like if he does it enough the endless time he spends trapped down her might cease to exist. But that wasn’t entirely the case, no, it was true he was much like a shark. Circling around its prey, constantly on the move because it didn’t know how to rest. The inevitable truth that slowing down, the resting, meant death.

“So you’ve finally come to see me?”

His voice breaks through her thoughts, his eyes zoned on her like a hawk and even in the dark she could still see the dark brown glow in them of the boy that she loves.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you.” It’s spoken like a fact, but only one of them knows it to be true. The heavy chains around his wrists remind him that what she says might not be entirely true. At least not to him.

“Still?”

“Yes.” She swallows hard, he watches the motion slowly. Watching for any signs of deception, he knew her well enough to see the sadness behind her eyes that seemed to grow deeper with every step she took near him. “You were - You are the only thing I wanted.”

“No,” He shakes his head. “No. Not me.” His hands shake, downplayed rage paints his face. “I have always been this way. This dark, grey creature in the hollowed-out shell of a prince who never was.”

He was right. Whoever he was then, whoever he was pretending to be. That wasn’t him, not entirely. He’d always been dark. Always been corrupt, he loved the darkness so much you’d think his soul had been grown there.

“You may not have loved who I truly was, but you loved me.”

He speaks gently, words so compassionate you could almost forget they’d fallen out of the mouth from the same boy who’s betrayed her.

“There’s a darkness in you.” Tender are the words that come from a boy who’s never known love, the boy who fought tooth and nail against the only one who had ever loved him. Loves him. “I don’t know how it got there, but I can feel it. You can set it free.”

If he was a fortress, then she was a glasshouse. So easy to look inside, to peer through a window, and know exactly what lies inside. He could practically see the way her heart beats for him, but he could also see how it hurts.

Because while he looks on the inside, she’s focused on the view. Brown curls stuck to his forehead that her hands ache to push back, skin the color of ash that washes away the memory of his once rosy-toned cheeks.

“Aerin, I am not like you.”

“You never were a good liar, Irileth.”

Their names slip from each other’s mouths like they’ve been holding in months, gliding off their tongues in such a charming tone they nearly missed the way they had flinched once one said it. The sting of betrayal spelled out both their names in one another’s mind. So she holds her tongue, knowing he’d never believe what she’d have to say to defend herself.

“I did not come all this way just to lose, but I won’t lose you either.”

“Haven’t you already?”

The sound of shackles breaks the reprieve built around them, the air grows stale as it’s ripped from her lungs. Aerin lifts his hands slow, wrapping the bars that separated the two like a cavern.

“Didn’t you lose me when you helped haul me into here?”

Shadows seemed to seep around her like the branching of a weeping willow, hiding her shame.

“I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, you chose this.”

“That is not fair. You chose this, over me.” Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, an unfortunate thing about her. The way her emotions threatened to spill over the floor and drown them both. “You did. This darkness.”

The gesture is vague but her arms swing wide, another sign of the difference between them. She was free to move as she pleased.

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“It does. I cannot change.”

“I'm not asking you to.” She knew he couldn’t, there was no longer a good bone in his body. There was never a place for one.

“I cannot pretend like this darkness doesn’t live in you, and I also cannot pretend as if I can save you. There is no saving what was never lost.” He’d belong to the shadows since the day he’d arrived on their Earth.

“But I will not be without you.”

Her hand slips between the bars. A tap, tap of a metal key — once, then twice against a bar. She slips through the heavy door that had been keeping them apart, the final step that leads her to jump into the deep end.

“I will have a home beside you. In the shadows.”

Shackles slip-free, falling heavily against the floor. And all at once, he’s on her. Lips on lips, shuddering close against his skin, and eyes pressed shut just hard enough to try to remember what this had felt like before. When his skin was warm, gentle hands touched her cheek beside a moonlit river.

Violent darkness creeping in on every corner, the shadows whisper sweet desires of a glorious promise land and the wind blows down her back like nails on a chalkboard.

That’s all there is at first, not the lack of light beside her lids but enveloping her through his kiss. Fear is freezing rain dripping down her back and drops shivers down her spine that he soothes away with a caress. Shadows flood her veins and her blood no longer flows crimson, inky dark lines dance down her skin like that of a predator. She is born again, born anew, his devilish grin traces over every onyx vein, scraping across her skin like branches on a tree. Shadows whipped and wrapped around them, holding them close and holding them together. A king with his queen.

There is a garden in their kingdom, there’s a single weeping willow tree with breaking branches that snap like bones in the night and it’s filled with thorns spread through the field threatening to prick anything that comes near. But under the tree there’s a single flower, it’s pale under the moonlight you could also miss the pink glimmer on it that matches Irileth’s skin.

When the moon is full they take a stroll, thorns let them pass and the branches part as if it’s offering a welcoming hug back home. The King and Queen of Shadows stroll through whispering cries of poor, lost souls and listen to the haunting melodies creep into their bones under the touch of one another’s embrace.

They aren’t lonely anymore.

#aerin valleros #prince aerin #blades of light and shadow #bolas #blades #bladesaw #aerin x mc #playchoices #mine: writing

82 notes · View notes

stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

[this week’s T5F was requested by anon]

Top 5 Worst Choices That Didn’t Matter

“This game series adapts to the choices you make. The story is tailored by how you play.”

......Yeah okay, Telltale.

There are a lot of important choices to make over the course of the twdg series, but as we all know, not every single choice matters. One of the biggest things people tend to complain about Telltale games is the illusion of choice and “my choices don’t matter! We all get the same ending anyway!” which is fair, I get it.

I personally try to look at the choices in a more positive light. Like, yeah it doesn’t matter if you cut Lee’s arm off or not. No matter what, you can’t save him and he’s going to die at the end of S1. Except that choice does matter, just not in the way we wanted it to. It matters because it shapes the story we the player want to tell.

Who is your Lee? Is he willing to do anything to rescue Clementine? Including cutting his own arm off if it means giving him just enough time to get to her, even though it’s going to hurt like hell and could possibly leave him worse off?

Or is your Lee someone who won’t risk that, even if there is the smallest hope that they cut it off in time and he could live? He’s willing to let the infection spread and kill him because he needs both arms and all the energy he has left to get to Clementine?

Sure, it doesn’t matter in the end-- Lee still dies, but two armed Lee isn’t the same man as one armed Lee, and that’s important to your story. Plus, that choice is memorable as hell.

But these kinds of choices that are impactful to your story in various ways? Yeah, we’re not talking about those today. Nope. Today we’re talking about choices that meant absolutely nothing. They never came back, they didn’t impacted the story in a meaningful way, they’re forgetful, and they’re just the worst. I don’t like ‘em.

Before we get started, just wanna shoutout @pi-creates for helping me bounce all these choices around and reminding me of so many things I forgot.

5. Telling Clementine to bring AJ back to Richmond

One of the last choices you’ll make as Javier Garcia happens during a conversation with Clementine. The two are talking about AJ and Clementine’s wondering if she was a good mom [which still don’t love the direction they went there for okay ANF] and Javi has the choice to tell her to bring AJ back to Richmond, or to leave him at the ranch.

And funny enough.... this means nothing. It does nothing. It’s said and nothing is remembered. Clementine never brings AJ back, she never mentions Javi telling her to bring him or leave him... all we get is a single line in TFS during the ranch flashback where Clementine says that they can’t go back because it’s a warzone that way.... but she says that no matter what.

It also doesn’t help that this come at the very end of the season but isn’t a huge choice the affects the endings. I dunno if they were trying to plant ideas that “Ooohh this choice could decide whether Clem sees the Garcia’s ever again! Clementine’s story isn’t over y’all! The Garcia’s could come back and we could see Richmond again!”

But then TFS happened and they were like “Ha, that’s stupid, no one likes the Garcia’s.” and they are never mentioned by name again.

4. Helping Sarah in the green house

Ugh, okay.

So, there’s this point in S2 where you’re trapped in Howe’s and put to work in the green house with Sarah and Reggie. Y’see, Sarah isn’t doing so good at this. Carver got pissed at her for talking earlier and forced Carlos to slap her... which he did, and it knocked her on her ass, and now she’s in shock.

Then ya got Reggie who keeps talking about how he’s on thin ice with Carver but also he’s this close to being let out of the holding area, so behave and all will be chill. He gives you a task to trip and pick berries or whatever, when you notice that Sarah is just kinda standing there.

So you got a choice: Do you focus on your own work, or do you help Sarah out?

Well, it doesn’t matter what you pick.

It.... it literally doesn’t matter. Sure, you could argue that it helps Sarah out and adds friendship points with her.... except no, not really. It’s never brought up again. She doesn’t even guilt you if you don’t help her, which is something you’d expect from these games.

Oh, and Reggie dies no matter what. Yeah, Carver comes in and thinks a couple of berry bushes is the perfect reason to throw this man off of a rooftop... but then he doesn’t do anything to Clementine or Sarah either way. He doesn’t get mad if you help, he doesn’t go after Sarah if you don’t.... and it’s never mentioned again. Reggie’s death is, but your specific choice isn’t.

3. Stealing from Arvo

Oooooh boy, gotta love the Arvo choice.

So, you and Jane are trying to find a safe place for Rebecca to have her baby when you see this kid walk up carrying a bag. He’s pretty harmless, and he’s more scared of you than you are of him. Jane gets the jump on him, and you check out the bag he’s carrying.

Turns out, he’s got a shit ton of medicine.... medicine that your group could really use. Arvo panics and begs you not to steal from him, claiming it’s for his sick sister. You gotta decide if you want to rob him or not.

And it doesn’t matter.

The best I can do to defend this is by kinda comparing it to when you steal from the Stranger’s car in S1. It’s more of a moral choice to shape Clementine, y’know? Except it doesn’t really do anything..... Clementine isn’t branded a thief after this, she doesn’t go around just stealing shit [though she can steal Pete’s watch but that’s another story]. But if you do want to keep stretching, then the next entry on this list could be seen as a continuation of Clementine’s thieving ways if you so choose.... but that choice is here, too, soooo take that for what you will.

If you steal the medicine, you have this pill bottle that you can give to Rebecca but that barely matters, too. They don’t help or harm her when she’s giving birth, they do nothing for AJ, and no matter what you do.... Arvo’s squad ambushes you.

And it means nothing.

Arvo will always claim you stole from him, even if you didn’t. Rebecca will always die and someone will always shoot her, causing a shootout to happen where no one in your group dies.

Yeah, no one but Arvo’s squad dies. Mike gets shot, and so does Luke but that’s it.

Oh, and stealing from him is never brought up again after that.... because it doesn’t matter.

Even if they did something where if you stole from him, then one of your group members dies because of some bullshit reason, then it would mean something but as it is now? Nothin’.

2. Injecting AJ with medicine

Oh hello, ANF, you’re back.

This flashback is annoying on so many levels... Alright, AJ is sick and everyone has told Clementine that there’s nothing anyone can do to help him, but she gets her hands on the name of a medicine she thinks will help. So she sneaks around and finds the medicine, but of course, she can only give it to him as an injection.

Instead of doing the smart thing and taking the medicine and moving away from the group to give to AJ in a safe location where she won’t get caught, she sticks around for Lingard to wake up, and he’s high outta his mind so that’s fun.

He tells her that it’s not going to help him and to just put it back. She knows what they do to thieves around here but he won’t tell anyone. It’s up to you, do you put it back or inject AJ?

Well, guess what?

Clementine gets caught either way and the drugs are either in AJ or smashed on the floor, David becomes a flipflop with his “We shoulda abandoned AJ long ago to die >:O but also you can’t take him because he’ll die out there!” and they kick Clementine out for being a dingus.

And here’s the kicker.... AJ is alive no matter what. He gets through whatever sickness he had and went to the ranch. You injecting him or not did nothing... no side affects, nothing. I’m sure they didn’t want to go super dark by killing AJ off [except they kinda did since there’s a lot of scrapped concepts with a dead AJ] depending on if you injected him or not..... but at least it would’ve been something. Hell, maybe no kill him since we need him for TFS, but maybe it would affect if he went to the ranch or not to begin with. Maybe if he got worse, they sent him somewhere else and that would affect where Clementine went to get him back for the flashbacks in TFS.

Again, you could look at this as what Clementine would be willing to do for AJ........ but it doesn’t enhance the story in any meaningful way. It affects what Clementine you get in the end, but that’s just some text on the screen.

I dunno, this choice could’ve done something... that’s all I’m saying.

1. Teaching Sarah to shoot

Once again, Sarah finds herself on my dumb lists... and not in a good way. Sigh.

Alright, you wanna talk about the worst choice that meant absolutely nothing? Nothing at all?

You get back to the cabin in S2 after leaving either Nick or Pete, and Carlos asks you to watch Sarah while they go out to look for the rest. You find Sarah, you can take some pictures, and then she asks where her dad is.

She gets anxious and sits on the floor....but then she does something interesting. She pulls out a gun she found. It’s not loaded or anything, but she asks Clementine if she can teach her how to use it.

And you’re probably thinking, “Oh, that’s a good idea. She should know how to use a gun, but her dad is too over protective. This could help us in the future.” or “Oof, no, Sarah isn’t ready for a gun. What if that comes back and bites me in the ass? What if she shoots someone I don’t want her to shoot?”

Well, don’t worry your pretty little head because nothing comes of this.

Nothing.

You teach her to shoot, and it does nothing. She never picks up another gun ever again, she never does anything with what you taught her, and nothing happens.

Just.... wow.

At the very least... with the other picks on this list, you could stretch and make some sort of excuse for it having an impact on the story.... but this doesn’t do anything to further your relationship with Sarah, Carlos never finds out about it, there’s never a point where Sarah admits she found the gun, she doesn’t use it, she doesn’t give it to Clementine or anyone else to you, and it does nothing.

This scene could be completely removed and it wouldn’t change anything... which honestly, is something I can’t say for the rest of these dumb choices.

That’s what makes this the ultimate pointless choice.

---

Dishonorable Mentions

-Asking to go with Mike at the end of S2. Arvo will shoot Clementine no matter what and it’s dumb. -Keeping quiet about Mari when David asks you to. It doesn’t affect anything other than David being upset for two seconds, but you get thrown out and it doesn’t matter. -Trying to help Christa in S2 ep1. Either way, she gets shot at and you never see her again and it just doesn’t matter. -Honestly 400 Days.... just all of it. The only thing you get is pointless cameos if you get everyone to go with Tavia. -Being nice to Larry. He still treats you like shit and accuses you of being a bitch to him anyway soooo.... yeah. -Fixing the swing in S1 ep2. If you don’t do it, then Andy will.

----

It’s pretty telling that this T5F is just S2 and ANF choices.... sigh. Like sure, there are a lot of choices that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things in S1 and TFS but most of those I can justify as being there to shape your story and are impactful in different ways..... but boy, there’s just something about S2 and ANF and their choices, isn’t there?

Anyway, what do you guys think? Do you agree with my choices or nah? Do you have a choice you don’t like and think is meaningless that wasn’t on the list? Lemme know, I’d love to hear it!

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

—

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Reasons Javier Garcia’s Pretty Great

#twdg t5f #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg javi #twdg david #twdg sarah #twdg nick #twdg pete #twdg carlos #twdg lingard #twdg larry #twdg christa #twdg jane #twdg rebecca #twdg

33 notes · View notes

artxyra · 4 years

Text

Prom Proposal

So @enchantingdefendoreagle requested, “I have a request I am hoping for a Daminette fanfic. Where since Prom is canceled that the Waynes have offered to host Gotham Academy Prom because Gotham Academy is under reconstruction or something. Damian has seen Marinette for a while having a crush on her but never saying anything. “

Note: I wanted to try pinning Damian and a lot of things happened... so I hope you enjoy.

Normally, Damian would never make such a big deal over a school event cancellation. He would shrug it off as if it was beneath him. Well, that was the case until the Joker decided to turn Gotham Academy’s gym into a playground until Batman and Robin removed him from the premise. However, there was an absolute reason as to why this event had affected him so much. For a while now, Damian was actually looking forward to the annual prom dance. He was actually going to participate in said event, but the one person he was trying to ask to be date—they haven’t really spoken to one another outside of class assignments.

“Father I demand that we host prom.” Damian urges barging into his father’s office the second the school email about prom’s cancellation went to the students. What Damian didn’t account for was Grayson being inside the office as well.

“Hold, Little D. Why would you of all people even want to B to host prom? You didn’t go last year so why the sudden change.” Dick wonders at his little brother. So yeah, Damian didn’t go his junior year but once again this year is different.

With Damian being silent for a moment was all it took for Dick to realize something, “Is it for a girl…a boy maybe?”

“Tt. I have my reasons.” Damian counters crossing his arms and turning his attention away from his brother to his father, who appears to be done with everything going on.

“Damian, do you really think that having the manor full of teens is a good idea?” Bruce asks concern about his son’s mental health, but he too was wondering why the sudden change in attitude for one of many iconic moments in a teenager’s life.

“There is no reason father,” Damian says lying through his teeth. There was a reason, but he doesn’t want his family to find out about said reason.

Dick nor Bruce seemed convinced, but a simple quick look to one another, they knew getting an answer out of eighteen-year-old would be a battle they didn’t want to have.

“I’ll consider it.” Bruce states practically agreeing to his son plans to have prom at the Manor just like any other Wayne Gala he has hosted before. The only difference would be teens instead of adults.

It only took Bruce Wayne three days to send an email to the academy, offering to host prom night at Wayne Manor. The headmistress took that offer immediately know that there will be backlash for not accepting such a proposal. Two days after that, the school sends out emails informing the students that prom will be hosted in two months having it right on schedule. Those who order prom tickets will receive further information closer to the date.

After getting his father on board with the thought, Damian was internally excited, now just to put his plan into action. That plan over two months failed at least five different times.

The first attempt, in the classroom right after class was finished. He knows that she’ll usually stay in the class until everyone is out. Well, that didn’t happen. She was the first person out, running like her depended on it.

The second attempt was at the courtyard, a couple of days after the first attempt. Damian knew (well he asked Jon) that she had a tendency to sketch under the largest tree during the evening. He also knew that they shared the same independent study times due to having worked on projects together. Just as he was about to ask her, another student walked up to her. The bluenette, from afar, seemed to be interested in the conversation. Damian ended up walking away hoping to try again later.

The third attempt was almost a success. He was actually talking to her, but the words would not come out the way he had hoped. This just added to his stoic personality that she was used to. Then right before he finally mustered up the confidence, a girl with pigtails interrupted them implying that she only wanted to talk to Damian. Apparently, pigtail girl wanted to ask Damian to prom and he of course denied the proposal.

“You need, help?” Jon asks on the day before Damian could attempt his fourth go.

“Tt. I rather suffer.”

Jon raises an eyebrow, “Uh-huh. She’s in the art room.” Jon walks away with a smirk on his face. Damian could only glare at his retreating friend.

Sure enough, Jon was right, she was in the art room. However, it was clear that she was in the zone. A zone that is nearly impossible to get her out of.

“DC, can we talk?” She doesn’t acknowledge him. He tries again a couple more times. Damian should have known better. They barely speak when in class, so why the hell would they speak out of class.

“How it go?” Jon asks as he smiles knowing exactly how the encounter went.

“Kent, you could have told me she was in the zone.” Damian lightly punches Jon in the shoulder. “Do you have any idea what she’s working on?”

Jon chuckles and instead of answering he goes inside the art room. Damian couldn’t help but wonder about what they are doing.

The fifth attempt was really his own attempt. In fact, it was the girl he has been trying to ask out that ended all of his sufferings.

Damian was been avoiding practically everyone in the challenge to ask this one person to prom. Every potential idea was either scrap or too out of character for him—not that he was out of character trying to ask her in the first; he’s blaming it on this unknown emotion that has been haunting him since he had gotten to know DC. What makes matter worse is that prom was only a couple of weeks away.

“You’re going to love this.” Jon states dragging the Wayne heir across the school grounds. Damian put up a fight but Jon inhuman strength kind of won the battle. So, he was trapped in his best friend’s grip being to who knows where.

The next thing Damian knew was being stopped in his tracks and seeing black with little rays of light coming through Jon’s hand.

“Kent, I swear—”

“Yeah, yeah, just stay with me for a second.”

“A second.” Damian deadpans crossing his arms over his chest.

Damian may have not seen it but Jon was rolling his eyes and whispering some words to someone.

“Okay, in three…two…one!” Jon’s hand immediately uncovers his face. Damian was seconds away from turning to attack his friend, but something red, green, and yellow catches his eyes.

There standing in front of him, is the girl he’s been trying to ask out wearing a female version of the current Robin’s outfit holding a sign that says, “A Robin with a sword would be troubling, but a Robin without a sword wouldn’t be complete. Will you go to PROM WITH ME?” To the side of her is a try of Batfam theme cupcakes.

“Dupain-Cheng, you never cease to surprise me,” Damian states feeling a little stupid that he was worrying for nothing. “Yes, I’ll be your date to prom.”

“I know and do you have any idea how hard it was to pretend that I wasn’t interested.” Marinette awkwardly chuckles

“What?” Now he was confused. Hold on…pretending? Damian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You knew?” He accused Jon who simply shrugs and takes a cupcake like it was nothing.

“Seeing you two pinning over one another was the highlights of my day. Mari was always in a panic when she tried to talk to you but there was always someone in the way, and you panicking like it was the end of the world. So yeah, I needed my own fun with all of this.” Jon answers before taking a bite out of the cupcake.

Marinette and Damian eye one another before smirking.

Legend has it that Jon’s screams of terror echoes throughout the school.

Fast forward to prom night, the Wayne family finally understood why Damian wanted to have prom at the Wayne Manor. The moment they saw the girl he was escorting—Damian had taken the car earlier that evening without a word to his family—they were all shook. Dick was squealing saying that the little bird finally found someone. Tim wasn’t sure what was going on aside from the flashing lights. Jason knew that girl and went into overprotective brother mode (that was not for Damian). Bruce wanted to cry but he had to keep up an image. Alfred had taken photos of the couple—those did not see the light of day until the wedding.

All in all, the family was pleased to see Damian being happy with the girl as they dance the night away.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#maribat #daminette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #maridami #ml crossover #dc crossover #marinette x damian

553 notes · View notes

jeremystronggf · 4 years

Text

racism in stranger things-

because there is a lot! when you think about it...

lucas. in s3 he’s sidedelined, underutilized, not given an arc for the sake of white characters storylines. even in s1 they decided to play into the ‘angry black boy’ sterotype which is....bad. that has potential to be harmful to black audiences, people internalise the idea that ‘black boys are only violent and angry’. his abuser is given more screen time and character development in s3...what the fuck. the abuse he faced due to his skin colour in s2 is not mentioned at all almost as if to brush it under the rug. we as viewers aren’t expected to recall back to when b*lly pushed lucas against a wall with the intent to beat him up all because he was black. we aren’t meant to remember when b*lly said for max to “stay away...from certain types of people”. this all seems to cater to white viewers as conversations about racism and racially-motivated abuse are ‘uncomfortable’ to them, not what they want out of their ‘feel good tv show’. the abuse b*lly put lucas through is not once mentioned in s3 by him or by any of the other characters. the audience is made to remember b*lly as max’s ‘annoying older brother’ rather than a violent racist abuser who was perfectly happy to hurt lucas a child, due to the colour of his skin.

erica. from the get go she’s a stereotype. the sassy black girl/ woman...sound familiar? rather than giving erica some type of distinct personality the chickenshit brothers decided to enforce stereotypes and again completely ignore the issue of racism (in the 80’s especially) . made a ten year old black girl ‘sassy’ which obviously equates to ‘strong’. idk man most ten year olds would most likely be scared if they were trapped in a russian lab and could be killed in a instant they wouldn’t be making sarcastic comments for the sake of CoMedY duffer brothers. but yeah, reinforce stereotypes about black people and woc instead of letting erica act like a child which she IS.

kali...ok first of all it’s not the end of the world if you didn’t like kali, like hey, i get it the lost sister wasn’t for everyone. even i don’t really like the episode and kali’s gang much. but if you don’t like kali think about why. if you have a valid reason like characterisation, her relationship with el etc. then fine, i get you but all of you that called kali ‘evil’ and a ‘villain’ and then turn around and started stanning b*lly after s2. fuck right off. white people literally can not deal with a woc being a morally gray character. instead of playing into the harmful stereotypes that are forced upon women of colour. also the fact that they completely scrapped kali and her character in s3..like the only south asian woman in your show. sigh. but idk maybe she’ll come back and the angry white youtube comment section of the st trailer that reveals her will come back too :)

it took me five minutes to realize but there...isn’t...any more people of colour in st so like :/ ....if your main cast of characters are predominantly white maybe make sure to give your POC ones the same care and treatment you give to them at the very least. obviously white viewership means more to the duffers then giving proper POC representation to the non- white viewers watching. and i think it’s sad and unfair that lucas, erica and kali have/had to sacrifice their character arcs, characterisation, storylines etc for the sake of the white characters who make up most of the show anyway or they that the actors/actresses were made to play into stereotypes that could potentially harm non- white audiences.

and i’m not saying this is all intentional and that the duffer brothers and other writers are disgusting bigots but they are ignorant. and racism stems from ignorance. if they want to do better they should take the time to re-evaluate how they write their POC characters and assess whether a plot line/ characterisation is harmful. they should be mindful of their treatment of non-white characters. could a potential storyline or characterisation negatively affect or harm their non- white audience? if so change it, subvert expectations and stereotypes that are placed upon POC. do better.

anyways this is just my two cents...feel free to add more, correct me or ask about something that you don’t quite understand or you’d like for me to explain. if you’d like to read some articles critiquing stranger things’ treatment of POC and their storylines/arcs i’ll link one here and here (although they’re post-s2 articles so there isn’t any criticism of s3).

i’ll end this by saying this isn’t a issue with just stranger things, it’s something that’s a problem with all aspects of media whether it be books, movies, tv shows etc. when consuming media with POC characters be aware of how the author and narrative treats them. is there something harmful there that white people could internalize and may influence how they behave and act towards non- white people? is there something POC could internalize which could negatively influence how they see themselves? speak up about it, be critical- especially if you’re white.

(also thanks to @lesbianrobin ‘s brilliant and interesting post which is what inspired me to make this one!!)

#stranger things #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #kali prasad #racism in media #we ranting!#my posts

239 notes · View notes

varibean · 4 years

Text

Amalgam

this is a secret prompt exchange for the varigo discord server! i got the prompt Amalgam for the wonderful and talented @dr-chalk!!!! i hope yall enjoy (and here’s the fic on ao3 too *wink*)

Summary: After relying on Ulla’s notebook to help them through their journey, the gang find that the next kingdom has little to no notes on where the next trial takes place. Their only clue is a location that might have a lead on where to go next. However, after a royal mess up on Hugo’s part, they’re left up the creek without a paddle. Not only are tensions high, but emotions as well. One thing was certain though: Hugo and Varian did not mix well.

Varian and Hugo didn’t mix, that much was clear to see at first glance. Hugo was rough, so many edges and layers of grime applied through falsities and smarmy charm. Meanwhile Varian was more true, more honest with himself and with others, but that often led to him being volatile at the wrong times and too quick to action based on emotion. Needless to say, it wasn’t the best combination.

_____

Hugo watched as Varian stormed into the campsite where the caravan and Prometheus were kept, the latter grazing at a few nearby apples and scraps that his owner had left behind. Needless to say, the young alchemist was furious.

Behind him Yong trotted along with Nuru, both with dejected looks plastered over their faces. Even from a distance Hugo could hear Nuru trying to mumble comforting words to the small boy, a smile on her face despite the recent hardships. And lastly, heading up the rear, was Hugo himself. His face was blank, almost unreadable save for the smallest of frown lines forming beneath his softly twitching lips.

No one was in a good mood and no one wanted to talk about it.

Yong went over to the fire pit and mumbled about getting the food ready for the night with Nuru which only resulted in a jerky nod from Varian before he headed into the makeshift lab tent. As each member went about their separate tasks, Hugo was left standing at the edge of the camp, arms crossed and the facade of normalcy fading.

He knew he had to do something, had to make this all right. They had been so close to discovering the path to the next trial, but he’d been reckless and wanted to show off. Now they were down a crucial key to getting to the next trial and morale and it was all his fault.

A sigh escaped him before he decided to move his feet. Yong and Nuru would probably be the easiest to apologize too; Nuru already didn’t like him before this but she was also smart enough to set bitter feelings aside and Yong was so happy-go-lucky that all it would take to earn back his favor was a brightly colored sparkler. They would be easy to win over.

That’s exactly why Hugo walked past them and instead headed into the lab tent. The area was small and cramped with everything from books to test tubes to chemicals that had to be carefully repacked every time they wanted to move. Even though they’d set it up together, Hugo could feel the shift in the area after his most recent blunder.

This was Varian’s space and he was intruding on the alchemist’s domain.

The man in question was muttering to himself, flipping through books and slamming his fists down as he closed volumes that didn’t have the answers he wanted. Honestly he was quite terrifying like this. Hugo, despite his outward teasing, had a healthy mix of both fear and respect for Varian, seeing how the other was never one to back down.

In the moment, the fear was predominant.

As much as he would’ve loved to have stood there forever, watching the other work so nimbly even in the mists of anger instead of confronting him on the issue, he knew that he couldn’t do that.

“Hey, uh, Varian. So about back there-” Hugo’s words were cut off before he could finish them. Suddenly Varian was striding over to him, face contorted in a particular anger that was more hurt and disappointment than malice.

“Yes Hugo, let’s talk about ‘back there’. I would love nothing more to talk about ‘back there’ so lets do that shall we? What part of ‘back there’ do you want to talk about? Maybe the part where you fought me for ten minutes on which direction we should go in. Or maybe the part where you insisted on using your own chemicals to open a doorway and instead got everyone a nose full of stink bomb. Or maybe! Maybe it’s the part where you almost got all of us fucking killed by setting off a trap!” Varian was huffing by the last line, his breath leaving his body in shaking bursts that made Hugo’s own chest constrict.

“Varian, listen-”

“No! I had my time to listen, now you’re going to listen to me. My mother’s journal can only lead us so far; whatever was in that cavern was going to take us to the next trial location inside the kingdom. Now we have no cavern, no lead, and almost lost our lives. Instead of finding the exact location we’re going to have to spend...I don’t even know! Days? Weeks! Searching this kingdom to find the trial chamber. All because you don’t trust anyone but yourself!”

The words stung Hugo more than any reprimand Donella had ever given him; more than any punishment he’d ever gotten from the other goons in the gang. It was blistering, scalding. He’d never felt so bad about messing up because, until Varian, he’d never messed up.

He never messed up because he’d never truly tried to help others.

But with Varian that’s all he wanted to do. And he fucked that chance right up.

“Can I please just-” Hugo started, but Varian was clearly determined to not let him say anything.

“No, you can’t. You want to know what we got for all of this? For almost losing our lives?” Varian turned around and pulled out his satchel, removing a fist sized filthy crystal that was no prettier than a dirty rock. “We got this. And only because it fell on me!”

Hugo stood there, trying not to let his shame show through. Yet again, he was downfalled by his hubris. It was just different, working together as a team. He’d never had to trust or rely on anyone else besides himself. Apparently, he wasn’t very good at trusting others.

In front of him Varian slammed the crystal rock down in a compound that Hugo recognized as hydrofluoric acid. Hugo thought that the other would break the beaker or hurt himself with the force that he threw the crystal rock down and suddenly worry overtook his shame.

“Hey, careful!” He reached out to check Varian’s hand, but the other batted him away.

“That’s enough, Hugo.” Varian said. The sound of his voice, the disappointment and rage, sent a shiver down Hugo’s spine. But he wasn’t just going to stand there and take it. If the other wanted to ignore his attempts at an apology, that was fine by him.

Without another word, Hugo turned on his heels and headed out the tent.

“You know,” He started, turning his attention to Nuru and Yong, who were currently on the ground after trying to scamper back to their places, “You two do a piss poor job of eavesdropping.”

_____

Five days went by without them speaking to each other. Five days of curt nods and stiffly eaten meals and as little contact as they could manage while still trying to figure out how to make it to the next trial. Hugo and Varian’s foul mood affected everyone; even Ruddiger was beginning to eat his apples with less enthusiasm.

The group’s searches in the city for how to begin their trial proved to be utterly fruitless. Varian’s journal was no use, and they’d expended the only other key that they had.

Overall, not the most fun few days. However, Yong and Nuru were becoming less concerned with the trial and more concerned for their two alchemists.

“He’s not been sleeping a lot.” Yong said.

“Varian never sleeps.” Came Nuru’s halfhearted reply, even though there was worry in the pit of her stomach as well.

“But this is different. Usually he just stays up because he’s in his tent...or putting out a fire I started. Right now he’s just doing nothing.”

“Yeah.” Nuru sighed. She knew she couldn’t deny it. Things were getting bad and no one knew how to make them better again. “Hugo’s been pretty quite too. Which I thought was going to be a good thing but now believe it or not I’d give anything to hear him say one of his stupid jokes again. At least then that would mean things were normal.”

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be that simple. At first they’d tried plots and schemes; fake notes left by the other, arranging meet ups between the two that never came to fruition. After several attempts over the last five days, both Yong and Nuru agreed that whatever needed to be fixed, Hugo and Varian would have to do it in their own time.

They just wished the two worked faster.

_____

Hugo couldn’t sleep and that really sucked for him because all he wanted to do was sleep and pretend like his current life was nothing more than a bad dream.

Varian’s words still echoed around his mind, stinging him when he thought too hard on it. He knew he’d been in the wrong but for once in his life he had been trying to apologize and this? This is what he got out of it?

Not worth it.

That’s what he told himself, it wasn’t worth it, it wasn’t worth it, it just wasn’t worth it. Of course, that just wasn’t true.

He hated to admit it but Varian’s forgiveness was worth it. It was worth its weight in gold because it would be from Varian. In the days that he’d spent avoiding Varian physically, he couldn’t escape the other alchemist in his thoughts. He was longing to make up with him, something he never cared about from anyone else.

There was something about Varian that made him want to be better, to earn his favor. The idea that they could make up, that they could get along, that maybe one day they would do more than just get along…

Hugo smacked his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts before they could manifest. He did not like Varian. Not in that way. No, he couldn’t allow himself to like Varian any more than the regular amount.

He was a spy after all. A double agent. It was basically traitors 101: Don’t fall for the guy you have to two-face.

He always sucked at following rules.

Knowing that he wasn’t about to get a lick of sleep any time soon, Hugo got up from his sleeping bag and exited his tent, hoping that maybe a walk would clear his mind from his unpleasant (or, perhaps, too pleasant) thoughts.

As he got out he saw that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. The lab tent had a dim light shining through the flaps and through the still wind Hugo could barely make out the sound of someone muttering.

‘Varian’s up too huh?’ He thought to himself.

His goal was to stay away from Varian, but the light in the tent called to him like a moth to a flame. There could be no harm in just walking by it, right?

He slinked over to the entrance, pepping inside to see that Varian’s back was turned away from the entrance, head in his hands as he sat in front of several test tubes and scattered papers.

“What am I supposed to do, Ruddiger?” Varian softly asked the raccoon who was clearly asleep on the ground.

“Just one big screw up after another,” He continued, “It’s all turned into a mess in just a couple of days. How can I possibly-”

This was a mistake. Hugo shouldn’t have been here, spying on Varian. And of course the other was still mad at him, for good reason. He’d screwed everything up after all, made things one big mess.

Hugo sighed, wishing he’d just stayed in bed. But before he could leave he heard Varian continue.

“How am I ever going to tell him how sorry I am?”

Hugo paused at those words, taking a moment to linger outside of the tent before quietly slinking in to hear what else Varian had to say.

“I was just...so upset. He could’ve died and it would’ve been my fault for arguing with him so much about the direction and the traps and everything else. And now he probably hates me right? I just wish I could tell him I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed everything on him. But he’d never accept that.”

“Well maybe if you asked him.” Hugo said, a smile suddenly playing on the edge of his lips.

Varian jumped, nearly sending all of his chemicals flying and hastily tried to correct himself.

“Hugo what-what are you doing here? You should be asleep an-and you know it’s rude to spy on people, I was having a personal moment here with Ruddiger and you can’t just walk in here and ruin our heart to heart-”

“I’m sorry.” Hugo’s words stopped Varian dead in his tracks as the other balked at him.

“What did you say?”

“I’m not used to working with other people, so I didn’t want to listen to you. I wanted to do things my way and maybe even show off a little. But it just cost us a piece to the puzzle and...almost hurt you. I mean, almost hurt Nuru and Yong too but,” Hugo reached out and took Varian’s hand into his own, “I was worried about you the most.”

He might’ve added the last line to sweeten Varian up just a little bit, but deep down he knew it was true. He’d been more worried about Varian than he’d been about his own hide, which was really saying something.

He smirked seeing the other’s face turn red in the dim lantern light. God he was cute. And Funny. And charming in his own nerdy way.

“Well I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have-”

“Oh, shut up, I already heard your apology.” With Varian’s hand still in his own, he leaned forward, his face even closer to the other man’s.

There was a beat of silence between them, stirring in both of their breaths as they studied the other’s face. They were so close, so tantalizingly close to the other. It would be so easy just to lean down a half inch more, taste Varian's delicious looking lips on his own. Up so close, Hugo could see the plumpness of the other’s bottom lip, the slight shine it had in the warm light from him licking his lips in worry. Just one more half inch. One more.

Hugo stepped forward. Varian stepped back.

And the sound of a beaker tipping over and smashing could be heard throughout the night.

“Fuck!” Varian helped as he turned over and tried to find the broken glass in the soft light. “Shit, shit, I think that one was the hydrofluoric acid. I hadn’t changed it out since I put the crystal...in...it…”

Hugo peered at him curiously as Varian’s voice died down, a look of puzzlement on his face as he leaned down to examine the pile. The blue eyed alchemist tightened his glove on his hand before gently reaching down into the rubble pile.

The acid, over the course of a few days, had melted the crystal down. Revealing, in its place, a golden coin that had been left inside.

Varian stood back up, coin in hand, and held it to the light.

“That’s the emblem for the city we’re in right?” Hugo asked, looking at the coin curiously.

“Yeah. The emblem and the fountain in the square. Only...hand me a coin. One that we got from the market the other day.”

Hugo did what Varian asked with no hesitation, and the two examined the coins side by side.

“The lady in the regular emblem on the coin is pointing down. But this one-”

“Is pointing left.” Hugo interrupted.

“Right. I mean, left. I mean-yes. You’re right that she’s pointing left. That’s where the Kingdom’s sewer main entrance is. To the left of the fountain. And the covers! They all have the emblems on them too.” Varian said.

“I think I remember a few of them pointing in different directions but I thought that was just a pipe thing but what if-”

“They’re directions! It would take us forever to explore the entire sewer system but if they are all pointing in different directions, we start by the one at the fountain-”

“Follow them throughout the city-”

“Until we finish at the right one!”

The last line they both said together excitedly after finishing each other’s sentences.

Varian smacked his hand excitedly against Hugo’s chest several times with a wide grin.

“And that’s the entrance to the next trial!!! This is amazing! The answer was right here in front of us all along!”

“So Varian, what you’re saying is, that I actually did the right thing and I can retract my apology now.”

“Don’t push it.” Varian tried to act stern but the grin on his face gave him away much too easily. “It’s almost morning, I’m going to go wake the others. And Hugo?”

Before Hugo knew it was coming he felt Varian’s lips press against his cheek for just a fleeting second. His eyes grew wide and he found himself at a loss for words to come back at him with. No that he really minded.

“We, uh, have a few things to talk about after this.”

_____

Varian and Hugo didn’t mix, at least not at first. Hugo was rough, so many edges and layers of grime applied through falsities and smarmy charm. But there was something good underneath. Something worth finding. Meanwhile Varian was more true, more honest with himself and with others, but that often led to him being volatile at the wrong times and too quick to action based on emotion. But sometimes a bit of emotion was needed to clear the air, sometimes being volatile could lead to being vulnerable. They were a curious amalgam of two things, both brought together to make something brilliant.

#varian #tts varian #varigo #varian and the seven kingdoms #alchemy boyfriends #zk writing #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I HOPE YALL LIKE HNNNNNG

193 notes · View notes

laventadorn · 4 years

Text

hold this for me 1/?

here’s a rough draft of the first 1k or so of hand-holding ficlet... it’s almost 4k now and i’m still going (how far will it go?? who knows, not this chick) and that’s after i scrapped a bunch of stuff at the end and revised bc it was going off in a direction i didn’t know what to do with h e l p

soooo bc my act has gone on the road i’m posting some as a teaser (*´▽`*)

this is set during winter break of year 6

❖

The cold was sharp and biting, the sky craggy with dark clouds. Harriet, bundled up in her heavy winter cloak, followed the trench Snape had crushed in the snow as he walked ahead. Snow powdered on the black cloak hem, crunched beneath his boots; her breath hung cloudy in the air. The world was silent except for those breathing sounds, the breaking of snow and the settling of branches in the dark mass of the forest ahead.

Snape turned his head a little, one black eye peering over his shoulder, past strings of his hair. She smiled, reflexively. He whipped forward again, as if pretending he hadn’t been caught looking back at her. She saw the tip of his ear turn red and grinned.

Jogging a little, she closed the gap. He didn’t look around, but he shifted the basket on his arm. Since she knew he didn’t register discomfort until something like his leg was about to fall off, he wasn’t moving it to find a better position. This was a fidget.

She hummed a little tune to herself, pleased. Snape let out a breath, like it was too much work to sigh. She grinned.

“If we were here to find anything that required stealth,” he said, his voice curling in the air like fog, “you’d be making all our work useless.”

“You wouldn’t have brought me if you needed stealth. Although, I can be perfectly sneaky.”

“Sneaky is not the same thing as circumspect,” he said dryly.

“Well, we’re just here for plants anyway.”

“Some plants require stealth in order to approach. Which you’d know, if you paid attention in Herbology,” he said, like the swot he was. This would be the sort of snotty grown-up observation that would completely kill the mood if Hermione didn’t also say the same thing all the time (only more nicely).

“Gosh, how will my ego survive with you trashing my Herbology marks,” she said, rolling her eyes.

They’d come to the edge of the forest, into the shadow of the trees, the forest gloom folding over them.

“These are Frost Blooming Drops,” said Snape, still swotty. “They grow quite a distance inside the forest. If you get cold, you’re a witch.”

“I’m all set.” She patted her cloak pocket, where a jar of Hermione’s little bluebell flames warmed her ribs.

“And don’t wander off. We use the Forbidden Forest as a defense boundary for a very good reason.”

“I’ll be clingy,” she promised.

“Hm.” Snape’s gaze slanted along his gaunt cheekbones, then swept forward again. She smiled and followed him beneath the enfolding branches of the snow-crusted trees.

The thing with Snape was, you had to filter everything through a translator. There was normal-person speech, which would express concern by asking “Are you warm enough?” However, Snape-speech was, “If you get cold, you’re a witch.” After all, if he didn’t care, he’d have waited until she was already freezing before saying anything.

There was also this whole outing. Yesterday Snape had actually showed up at lunch, sat next to Slughorn (who was on Harriet’s left), and made noise about going into the Forbidden Forest to collect some rare seasonal flowers. It was a very long walk; the flowers weren’t even very useful, hardly seen in any potions you would use except twice every five years; pretty much a waste of time to bother collecting them. He’d go early so he could get there and back before dark.

This was clearly an invitation; he wasn’t even the Potions professor this year, and Slughorn’s attitude had clearly wondered why anyone would be so mental. So Harriet had bundled up this next morning after breakfast and loitered near the empty Quidditch Pitch until Snape turned up with a basket over his arm. His face passed through some interlocking expressions that she couldn’t decipher, but all he said was, “Walk behind me,” and crunched a path through the snow. This, too, was Snape-concern: if he made a path, she didn’t have to.

The snow in the forest wasn’t as deep, so she could walk next to him. He kept fidgeting with his basket. She smiled to herself.

It might work in her favor that he was twitchy about something. She had a plan, and she might be able to get away with it if he was too distracted to see it coming.

“So what potions do these flowers go into?”

“What do you think Frost Blooming Drops would be used for?” he retorted, which she interpreted as a desire to have a conversation. Good; it saved her the trouble of pestering him for one.

“Minty fresh breath?” She smirked.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “I should know better than to ask you Potions trivia.”

“Probably,” she said peaceably. Her middling marks seemed to genuinely irk him, although now that he was her Defense professor and she was his top student, he didn’t seem to know what to do about it. Sometimes he seemed downright helpless.

“So, what do they do?” she asked again.

“One of them does give you the power to expel frozen breath.”

She squinted. “You’re making that up.”

“Would I?” he asked blandly.

Right, a double agent who never made things up; that was believable. “What would you need frozen breath for?”

“You tell me.”

“Mmm. It’s hot out, and you want a cold drink?”

“Yes, for a wizard it would be far more sensible to mix a potion to cool the breath than to simply conjure ice.”

She grinned. “Which is why I’m saying you made it up.”

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to trap me into admitting anything,” he said, affecting boredom. She knew it was fake because he was picking at a sticking-out bit of weave on his basket with a split fingernail.

She pointed a mittened finger at him. “So you do admit something.”

There was a glint in his eye, but his voice was still bland and his expression smooth. “I speak generally.”

“Yeah, sure. C’mon, don’t you want me to learn something about potions for real?”

He gave her a look: I-know-what’s-in-your-head-and-it-most-certainly-isn’t-potions. “If I thought it wouldn’t go in one ear and out the other, perhaps I’d give it a shot.”

She shrugged, smiled, and spread her hands in their mittens. He only rolled his eyes again.

They crunched along for a bit without speaking. Harriet watched his hand fiddling with the edge of his basket and thought about her plan. She’d mapped it out last night. All she had to do was find the right moment. . . She’d say, “Here, hold this for me,” and he’d say some variation of, “Why do I have to hold something for you? Aren’t you a witch?” but he’d put his hand out anyway, and then she’d--

“Harriet!”

“Huh?” She looked around, because he wasn’t next to her anymore.

“What did I say?” He was glaring her way, one foot below the edge of the path, apparently ready to climb down something. “What did I say about wandering off?”

“Right, right, my bad.” She crunched over to him. The tops of his cheekbones were pink, for some reason. Maybe it was the cold.

She peered down the slope, where a little side trail made of rocks descended along a narrow trench, beside a gentle stream of black water. “We’re going down there, then?”

“Watch your footing.” He stressed every word. “These rocks are icy.”

He shot a spell at the rocks to crack the ice, but even without the ice, the rocks were still wet, and she did have to watch their step. At the bottom, where a little trail wound into the snowy gloom beside the stream, he put his wand away.

His glare was still giving off little sparks, like a log settling in the fireplace, so she put on her best contrite air and decided she should wait till he cooled off a little before she tried. . . anything.

(to be continued in part 2/?)

#tner tag #snarriet tag

50 notes · View notes

buttercup-of-kaer-morhen · 4 years

Text

Of Thorns and Buttercups

~Ch 1/?~ (Beauty and the Beast AU, Kiiiinda. It has definite elements of the original story cause I’m a sap for Fairytale AUs. I hope you enjoy. Also shout out to @sophiakuso1 for being my beta.) Warnings: Brief mention of violence, blood, and there’s a death scene... so there’s that, also, non-sentient animated furniture violence? I don’t know if that will bother anyone but they will kinda act like living things when they show up in the story, so... Primary Tags: Beast! Geralt, Belle! Jaskier, Memory Alteration Via Curse, It really only affects Jaskier right now Also on AO3!

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

The roads down from the mountain had been quiet aside from the sounds of the woods and its inhabitants, although those too seemed muted and subdued now. The witcher had thought that once he was left alone, his life would just go back to the way it was before. That everything up until then wouldn’t make a difference, he’d walk the path alone and he’d be fine...But the absence of the bard hung heavily around him, like an albatross hanging from his neck. He finally had the blissful peace and quiet he had longed for but it wasn’t as blissful as he thought it would be. It only left him uneasy, looking over his shoulder and straining to hear even the softest of humming or the strum of a lute. More than just the noise that no longer followed him, the comforting warm presence of Jaskier was no longer at his side. And for the first time in his long life of making mistakes, he couldn’t push away the deep feeling of regret that tailed him like a hungry hound.

At first, during his descent down the mountain, Geralt had a moment of realization that his-- the bard could have easily gotten hurt--or worse, killed--heading down on his own without the witcher’s protection. He watched and listened for any indication that Jaskier had been injured as he walked on. As time went by, the wolf resigned himself to the fact that Jaskier was long gone, whether that meant alive or dead he did not know. It left a soft taste in his mouth and the feeling of bile in the back of his throat. The night he reached the base and set up camp, he briefly felt the urge to run and track down his lost friend, wherever he may be, but he held fast and let the urge pass. It was better this way. Jaskier deserved better. At least better than a wolf that only knew how to bite the kind hand he extended. If the bard wasn’t at his side then he was safer as well. No longer being put in danger by the monsters and battles that followed Geralt no matter where he went. He was undoubtedly happier too. He would find someone who knew how to actually give a compliment or a proper critique of his songs. It had to be true because that was the only thought that kept the witcher content as he laid awake through the evening. Geralt didn’t know why his parting with Jaskier haunted him more than his one with Yennafer but it did. Maybe because their bond wasn’t forged mostly by magic. Maybe it was because the bard seemed like such a permanent fixture in his life now. He pondered it until dawn but when the sun rose, he still had not found an answer. The following morning, he set off on the path in search of his next contract. He had no place specific in mind so he pulled Roach in the direction of the sea and let the siren call of it pull him towards his next job.

After a few weeks of traveling, he came upon a small town not too far off from the ocean that seemingly fell on hard times, although most villages seemed to have suffered the same fate nowadays. He was met with suspicion and distrust, not that he was unused to it, but this town in particular felt very quiet and reserved for it’s immodest size. People lurked in their homes instead of out on the streets or in their gardens and shuttered their windows and barred their doors as he passed. He could tell that poverty plagued the area and the sour smell of starvation was practically suffocating. He had made to go to the inn to check if there were any contracts posted, doubtful although something was so obviously wrong here, but a movement caught his attention. Looking in the subject that caught his eye, he spotted an elderly hag waving for him to follow before promptly disappearing down an alley. Wary of the situation, Geralt hesitantly followed with his hand ready at his sword. The woman kept ahead, only glancing back occasionally to make sure he followed, as she led him to a hut at the edge of the town. The door was left open behind her in invitation for him to follow but caution had him pausing just outside the hovel.

“Scared Witcher?” The bemused voice of the hag called out when he neglected to follow.

He grunted in response and crossed the threshold. Staying near the door, he crossed his arms as he waited to hear what the woman had to say.

“Not very talkative I see.” She spoke again as she settled atop an old stool in front of a decrepit hearth. He hummed with a frown, which only seemed to amuse her more before she continued on. “No work lies in the town for you Witcher, nor does a warm welcome. Poverty has cast a dark shadow on the folk of this place and they do not take kindly to strangers nor are they willing to pay them since they already have so little to spare. But I have a contract for you, which I am willing to pay greatly for if you are able to complete it fully.”

Geralt mulled over the words, doubtful of her promises due to her current state but curiosity won. He wondered what kind of job demanded such a steep price and so he nodded for her to continue. The hag grinned softly, a deep sadness in her eyes shown as she spoke. “There is a keep hidden deep in the forest. Within lies a curse that stretches out and brings ruin to the village. None can get close though, for a beast lurks in the stone halls of the old ruin. My magic has gone and been taken from me when the calamity hit. I was left with nothing but to grow old in this town, being the only one to remember the curse and the keep’s existence. If you can end the curse, I will be able to reward you with whatever you may desire once I have my magic back.”

Geralt thought over the offer but something was off. There was something still missing from her story. “If the misfortune only reaches the town, why not just leave? It wouldn’t have a hold over you then.”

“Ah yes… Sadly I must remain because all those who were in the town at the time of the curse are now held prisoner by it. We cannot escape even if we wanted to. Usually this place is forgotten and hidden by the spell from travelers but it seems you may have been destined to come here.” She clarified with a cheeky smile, the glint in her eye making him uncomfortable.

“What is the creature? It’s type?” He asked brusquely, wanting more details then the scraps she gave before he headed out. If he could, he would like to prepare for a potential battle or at the very least know what to expect when he arrived.

“None like any that you have heard of to be sure.” She responded lightly before awaiting his decision quietly.

A part of him told him to leave and not look back but a very small traitorous voice in the back of his mind pointed out that this was a way to get his--the bard back, if only to make sure he hadn’t died on the mountain. So he found himself nodding in acceptance and being directed on how to get to the keep.

As he made his way deeper into the forest, the sun slowly disappeared behind the thicket of trees, which seemed magical in nature due to the fact that the leaves on the trees wane more and more as though winter was setting in. He also had to be mindful of the underbrush for Roach’s sake. The nearer they drew, the more bramble bushes and winding tangles of thorny vines appeared. By the time he exited the forest onto the grounds of the keep, the air had chilled and snow fell blanketing the world in silence. No sound of birds or foraging animals penetrated the suffocating silence. “Yeah, definitely cursed…” He huffed quietly to Roach.

The witcher slowly made his way through the gardens which, although covered in thick blankets of snow, had hundreds of roses blooming all around. He found a small stable to shelter Roach in while he dealt with whatever beast laid in the keep and the curse. Making his way through the hold proved easy, too easy. No traps or surprises waited around every corner. That made him worry all the more though. If the source of the magic that imprisoned the town was here unguarded, then that meant whoever cast it was certain their beast could dispose of any threat that may come. Another peculiar fact that Geralt took notice of was that there were no signs of previous battles in the halls. Only beautifully crafted and luxurious objects fit for royalty with all their gilding and detail lay about along with vines of roses which crept through the cracks, taking home amongst the decorative stone carvings. He ignored the warm well lit rooms, obvious traps with their enticing music and delicious smelling foods. Instead, he made his way further in. When it came to a divide in the two wings, he went to the west which lay in disrepair compared to the other. The welcoming cheer disappeared as he passed broken furniture and ripped portraits. Even in all the wreckage, there was still no sign of blood, and dust invaded his senses, keeping him from scenting out what creature may be lurking. Down the vast walkways, staircases, and passages, all the rooms were worn and barely accessible. With every passing second, Geralt’s anticipation grew, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he expected an attack and yet still none came.

The final room he came to seemed to be the master bedroom which he cautiously crept into. The bed was a mass of tatters and heaps of cloth, not that unlike a nest, and the rest of the furniture had been reduced to splintered piles of wood and metal. The object that caught his eye though was a faintly glowing bell dome that looked frosted over in ice as it sat on a small lone table in front of the windows. It felt like he was being pulled towards it. That was it, it had to be, the source of this curse. A creeping anxiety filled him as he crept closer to the object. This was all too easy and still no sign of the monster. When he was right in front of the delicate glass, he paused briefly to take in the wilted rose, if you could call it that, that only had a singular petal still attached to the stem. A sense of loss and mourning filled him as he reached out.

Before his hand could touch the glass however, a growl snapped him back to the room around him. He turned quickly, unsheathing his sword and striking the creature that had leapt at him from its hiding place near the bed. His sword thrust with a meaty thunk into the center of the monster’s chest. Decades of hunting and swiftly taking down monsters meant his aim was true and there was no saving the beast now. It was only as the beast crumpled to the floor did Geralt notice it’s claws had been retracted, showing it had had no real intention to harm. If it had wanted to, it could have easily snuck up on him while he was enthralled by the dome and gotten in at least one good hit. “Fuck…” He swore under his breath, realizing his mistake and stooping low to get a better look at the creature. It’s body was like that of a lion but it had swirling horns that curled back over it’s mane and it’s pelt was as black as the charcoal left from a forest fire. It struggled to turn onto it’s back, wheezing wetly, until Geralt took pity on it and helped. Lichen grew in patches along the horns and across its face and pelt, one eye almost completely covered. It blinked blearily up at him as it coughed up the blood that was starting to pool in it’s lungs. He didn’t know what to do, the beast did not seem crazed or ferocious. When he looked it in the eye, all that showed was mournful regret.

The creature breathed deeply to collect itself before it opened it’s jaws and the voice of a man came out. “I am finally free-- ” It paused to cough before continuing. “You have saved… me from my torment--” Another coughing fit came and went. “But I fear the curse is yet undone… You--” The creature’s breath stuttered and a large claw fisted in Geralt’s shirt, pulling him down so he could hear it’s final whisper. “--You will be the making of your own curse… break it before the last petal falls.” As it’s voice petters out, the beast goes limp as it’s life falls away.

Geralt barely had time to process the words before a burning in his chest bloomed and rapidly made its way out to his limbs. He felt like he was burning alive just before his vision went black. When he came to, he felt heavy. Heavier than normal and his body ached as though he had just burned through one of his potions. He slowly ambled to his feet, feeling his armor shift in odd ways but the heavy weight of his medallion was missing. Before he could truly go into a frenzy searching for the silver piece, the small table caught his eyes. Instead of the frosted bell glass, a bird cage now stood in its place, the frost mingling with the silver that made up the twisting and curving bars that reminded him of the twisted thorn vines from the forest. As he stepped closer he saw the wilted flower was no more, instead replaced by a small bouquet of… Buttercups? Where the door of the cage should have been, the shape and design of his medallion sat. Upon seeing this, the witcher felt something heavy lower in his chest. He scrambled for any kind of reflective surface, noting his hands were now large white furred claws, thankfully still with opposable thumbs. Grabbing a shard of mirror from beside the bed, Geralt stared at the monster who looked back. The large yellow eye shown out from the thick white fur, dark horns curved back over his head, and large sharp teeth shown through when he grimaced. The mirror slipped from his hands as he stumbled and sat down heavily on the bed frame which groaned in response. He thought over the beast’s last words as the cold crept in around him.

The anguished howl echoed throughout the seemingly enchanted woods. All the animals quieted in fear while a young man hastened in the direction of the cry. The curiosity called out to him and drew him closer to a castle he had not noticed before. He needed shelter for the night from the sudden cold storm that had brewed and the blue and yellow flowers nestled in the snowy gardens were enchanting. He wondered what he would find inside as he came upon the darkened doors as night settled in around him. The snow now fell steadily and he wondered what destiny had in store for him.

#geraskier #Witcher #the witcher #witcher netflix #fanfic #geralt x jaskier #gerlion #Beauty and the Beast AU #beast!geralt #Buttercup's Writings

15 notes · View notes

auncyen · 4 years

Text

writing scraps from this year

- "Everybody's Fool" [...I'm pretty sure this had no context besides being an Evanescence song that I like and that sounds like it could fit Joker, especially in a Palace fic.]

- Ryuji worries--he messed up and killed Okumura's shadow, too aggressive, everyone is appalled at the thought, tells him no -Ren brought Futaba in on the significance of Akechi knowing about the Metaverse, upsetting Morgana [both these bullet points were for things in Shuffle Time, but I'm pretty sure I'd probably use them for independent fic if I used them now. Okumura goes down REALLY easily once you get to him himself, and I just had this stray thought that, especially since head injuries can be unpredictable in the real world--like, Ryuji in the boss fight, worked up for Haru's sake because shitty abusive dads, just winds up and absolutely slams Okumura's Shadow, surprised but satisfied that he instantly goes down--and the Shadow seems fine, if weak, in the conversation afterward, so all's well that ends well, and even after the mental shutdown Ryuji doesn't immediately think of it--but then one night he just happens to think of the way his bat connected and Okumura's head banging against the helmet when he hit the floor and concussions and sometimes they're fatal and oh god he ruined another team, it's his fault Okumura had a shutdown, he killed someone-- thankfully he goes to Ren about this before he goes to Haru or the police, but he's nearly having a panic attack and Ren is just like no. NO. This was not you, something else was going on, calm down. just hold on and we'll figure it out. I imagine this is while Ren is suspecting Akechi but right before he's sure enough to tell the team so like. HE'S EXTRA PISSED OFF BECAUSE NOT ONLY IS ONE FRIEND'S PARENT DEAD, ANOTHER FRIEND IS BLAMING THEMSELVES FOR IT the point of Ren telling Futaba about Akechi early on was just to add another little wrinkle to Morgana getting upset enough to leave the team, I think. He'd felt "special" as Ren's confidant at least, and he'd liked knowing that only he and Ren knew about Akechi even if he knew they'd tell everyone else as soon as he showed anything concerning. But Ren thought it might be prudent to know about Akechi's background, so he asked Futaba to look into it as well as why Akechi was a person of interest, and Morgana understood that it made sense to tell Futaba, it just...became another way that he was no longer needed/important.]

Ryuji & tutoring? Ren paying Kawakami to help him figure out study method for Ryuji--doesn't want her going directly to Ryuji because it might embarass him/make him stubborn - or Makoto tutored Ryuji when he was a first year--both found it frustrating, but he got acceptable grades before the Kamoshida incident happened--she wants to do better this time. (Sojiro helps them figure out what's getting in Ryuji's way, gives a mini-lecture to both of them? Tells Makoto that if she's going to be in charge of people she needs to help them achieve their best rather than forcing them to follow a method that doesn't work for them)

-Ren has a guess that there are PT-like people in hometown of Inaba, but for the completely wrong reason-- Adachi's sudden confession seems like a change of heart, as well as the oddities in the confession (which probably aren't public but Futaba would hack that shit as soon as Ren started talking about the odd midnight channel and weird murders and supernatural-seeming shit and everyone goes METAVERSE???) - Ryuji thinks it's a shame the group never went big, Ren points out that they couldn't really do much in sleepy Inaba - the overall thrust is that Ren is deeply invested in being able to continue Metaverse activities even after he goes home, and Futaba and Morgana both enable this instead of thinking more and becoming concerned about why this is so overly important to Ren

- Sae gets Metanav on her phone? [...This is...all I wrote down for this. as an aside of the whole interrogation room plot, Sae would theoretically be granted the app on her phone--at least, if Yaldabaoth thought she'd be useful to Ren. Since canon does nothing with this, I guess he didn't. BUT WHAT IF? idk]

- Mishima accidentally Metaverse with Ryuji [THIS IS ACTUALLY HOW I WROTE IT? lol the idea was he was telling Ryuji about a Phansite request while they were trying to verify its authenticity, so naturally he manages to hit all the keywords while they're in the vicinity of the Palace] - Ryuji panics, gets them back immediately, tells Mishima to NOT mess with any apps that might appear on his phone - tells the others at PT meeting -and Ren just...sighs. "now he's going to flip when he doesn't get the app" - hold up, Ren. How you know that? everyone pumps Ren for more info on Igor once he comes up, Mona is tipped off that something is wrong with Ren [this was...actually another thing that was supposed to come up in Shuffle Time! GEE, MAYBE THE ISSUE I'VE HAD WITH SHUFFLE TIME IS TRYING TO DO TOO MANY THINGS. basically this was playing with both the fact that Ren doesn't really seem nice to Mishima sometimes and that Ren knows more about the app than the others do and for some reason doesn't tell them. Ren is pretty sure Mishima's not ready to awaken to a persona, so he'd be useless in the metaverse, so he's not a candidate for the app. While he's right, at least within the timeline of the fic, the way he acts about it rubs Ryuji wrong and the fact that he knows things about the app and hasn't been saying rubs EVERYONE wrong. This was supposed to be set before the rank where Mishima is challenged to change himself and Ren acknowledges afterward that even if Mishima isn't ready for a Persona yet, he has more strength than he gave him credit for. He also apologizes to Mishima for holding a grudge about the leaked record and tries to be kinder to him afterward.]

KO Gamplay & Story integration -Ren gets knocked out in mementos, bad fight - cut to interrogation room: "...And that's when 'Ren' died." - Sae is not impressed & Ren needs to stop bsing. he smiles & tells her to be patient so he can explain...the crime she truly wanted to ask him about... - back to fic's main time: others manage to revive Ren, but he's acting strangely - his 'ego' has been wrecked & his personas are out of control. his friends can help keep him in check but only for a while, and even then he's not quite himself; whoever is with him gets responded to by a Persona of their arcana, so he flits wildly between personalities between meetings with confidants and pretty much needs to be supervised in public settings to make sure he acts...semi-appropriately (morgana being around means he's usually in Magician mode) - eventually, though, the matching arcanas is an issue with Akechi drawing out Justice personas that know 1) there is an assassin in the Metaverse and 2) Akechi has access to the Metaverse. Principality, which guards nations, waits until he is certain Akechi is the Black Mask. Then murders him in the real world. And that's why Sae is interrogating Ren in this timeline.

-Ren's POV of Stall & Crash -"warden" Arsene, punishment/handcuffed/restraint -"I know you're not real" "I am as real as your sense of self... ah, but you don't have a good grasp of that, do you". [u know how in p3 out of control Personas hurt their real selves and p4 is basically EVERYONE'S Shadow being pissed off at their real self? yeah this was basically Ren's guilt at considering selling out his team, albeit while heavily drugged, causing Arsene to manifest as an abusive warden who 'allows' Ren to still be able to use his Personas but makes it very clear he's not worthy and hurts him at times. I don't think I did this mostly because while it's proposed as Ren's POV of Stall & Crash, Ren being unstable to this degree beforehand wasn't really evidenced in that fic and I thought it might be fun to play with but also I would HOPE he wouldn't start Shido's Palace while like this. ...may work better as a completely separate fic?]

- Clean-Up the Heart - Ren calls Kawakami before realizing BAD IDEA - she gets suspicious and invents a reason for him to request her so they can talk - they have a heart-to-heart - that's it that's the fic [...lol. to add a bit more: the idea was to set this either while Ren is still playing dead, or right after he's allowed to come back to school. He really needs to talk to someone about everything that's happened but he doesn't want to place more stress on Sojiro or his teammates, so he thinks about the other confidants he knows and...Kawakami should be okay, right? He shouldn't tell her about any of the scarier stuff, but maybe he can just talk a little except he clams up as soon as she answers and hastily says it was a misdial Kawakami doesn't quite buy that as she can tell he sounds genuinely off, so she just...makes up on the spot that actually. she's a little tight for cash, and she knew she said she'd do things for him for free, but if he could hire her just one last time? and ren's just like "oh. okay. sure" she basically cleans up his room and then goes 'okay, one, I'm not actually having money problems, you don't need to pay me, and two, now I KNOW something is wrong because I lied and said I was having money problems again and you haven't been nosy about it even once. What's wrong?" and that's how she gets Ren to open up, at least a tiny bit.] holy cow this got long so I'ma do the rest in a different post I guess

#writing #p5 fic #for later #but also for anyone curious

3 notes · View notes

screensirenfic · 4 years

Text

Black Leather - Chapter 28

The junkyard was pretty much what the name implied; a big stretch of land heaped up with shit that was better left forgotten by time.

I came here with Charlie sometimes to find scrap parts for old cars; usually just found scrap instead.

Everyone knew that the decent scrapyards were out Wyoming way.

Still; the kid had done an alright job, all things considered.

It was pretty defensible as a base, and the school bus looked like it could hold out against nuclear war, and probably was designed that way if the history books were anything to go by.

I could already see some decent scrap we could use as a barricade, and with a little elbow grease; we might even be able to improvise some traps.

“Oh yeah; this will do. This will do just fine.” Steve spoke my thoughts out loud, clearly on the same wavelength when it came to finding a defensible home base.

“Good call; kid.” I praised Dustin, earning me one of those toothy smiles, and I hoped some of my dad’s hero worship wasn’t rubbing off on me.

——————————————————

The best of half an hour was spent spreading round the rest of the meat; only a minimal amount of it ending up being flung at each other, because as much as I liked horsing around with Steve; I valued my innards more, and didn’t want to come across as a tasty snack for a hungry demogorgon.

Our efforts ended with us heaping the dregs of our buckets in a pile in the middle of the junkyard, creating what we’d hope would look like an all you can eat buffet to any unsuspecting monster, and the perfect ambush spot to us.

“I said medium-well!” A voice yelled from across the junkyard, and Steve, Dustin and I all looked in its direction.

Two kids and a shiny new racer bike were heading our way with painfully eager expressions, and I wondered when me and Steve signed up to be counselors at Camp Shitstain?!

“Who’s that?” Steve asked, because he was still painfully dumb, and we were probably gonna have to fix that, but not till I sorted out that look on Dustin’s face.

Steve may have been an idiot, but to me it was glaringly obvious that the redheaded girl on the back of that bike was the object of his affections.

And if the way his face sunk harder than the Titanic was a signifier of his feelings; it looks like Red was already smitten with her speed racer.

“Hey kid; you wanna talk with your friend for a bit? Cos if you want I can keep Red busy?” I asked, giving Dustin an out if he wanted, because there was clearly a discussion that needed to be had here, and it was probably best if the lady in question was out of the picture for that.

“Yeah; that would be good, actually.” Dustin replied, probably sounding the most grown up he had since I’d joined this this party.

“Alright. You just leave this to me.” I reassured him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder, before approaching the young redhead girl.

“Hey Red; can you give me a hand?”

——————————————————-

So Little Miss Lovetriangle was actually a big help, but maybe it was because at least someone around here wasn’t worried about getting her hands messy.

It did also help that I knew all about unwillingly being the rope in a testosterone filled game of tug of war.

The kid didn’t even seem to have an interest in the boys; and I was really gonna have to start learning names, because Dipshits One and Two and Red were really not suitable names in a crisis.

Right now; me and Red were busy melding corrugated metal sheets to the bus in a last ditch attempt at armour playing against demogorgons, whilst the two boys were still playing therapist, and Steve was off god knows where doing god knows what.

It was almost poetic; really. The two females of the group doing all the heavy lifting whilst the men were too busy bickering and being emotional.

Still; someone had to do it, and me and Red were down to our last sheet.

“On the count of three. One. Two. Three.” I instructed, before we managed to bend sheet metal around the front corner of the bus by hand.

It took some elbow grease, but we still managed to do it, and fuck; if I wasn’t proud of our work, creating our own Firt Knox outta scrap metal and chicken wire.

“Great work; kid!” I praised her; reaching out for a fist bump, which she eagerly returned.

I wiped the beading of sweat on my forehead, taking in what would hopefully hold us safely until Steve and I could figure out a way to kill a mutant lizard.

“You know; I never actually got your name?” I asked the girl; because it was probably rude of me to just call her Red this entire time.

“Max. Max Mayfield.” The girl replied, holding out a sweaty palm to shake.

“Lola. Lola Hopper.” I offered the same in return, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

“You know; it’s funny...” Max smiled with withheld laughter, still shaking my hand.

“What’s funny?” I asked, letting go of her hand with a smile.

“My older brother goes on and on about this girl he knows called Lola...” She continued; that smile turning into a full on smirk, that sparked my curiosity.

“Well; what’s his name? Maybe I know him?” I asked, my interest officially peaked, and my mind now scanning for any fiery redheads I knew of.

“Billy.” She stated; and I felt the bottom suddenly drop out of my stomach.

She couldn’t be talking about him; could she?

“Billy? Billy Hargrove?” I asked; the question a near mimic of his own introduction to me, though with far more apprehension.

“Yeah. Know him?” Max nodded; clearly not picking up on my uneasiness with the topic, because did Billy really talk about me at home?

“Yeah. I know him.” I replied, not giving anything away with my answer, as there was no real way of knowing what bullshit Billy spurted about me behind closed doors.

“But you can’t possibly be that Lola...” Max scoffed; a small smile of incredulity crossing her face. “You’re not—“

“A dumb blonde with tits bigger than my head?” I asked; having already perfectly painted a mental picture of Billy’s usual type, and knowing that I didn’t fit the bill in the slightest.

“You are that Lola! Jesus; Wow!” She exclaimed; and for once I was hopeful that the gossip Billy was saying about me might at least hold a slither of truth.

“You are so not what I expected.” Max stated, leaning down to help me pick up another piece of metal, and I began to wonder what exactly she’d expected me to be like?

Probably a stuck up, slutty bitch who’d look more in place on a poster in Billy’s room then digging through trash in a junk yard.

Hope I wasn’t a disappointment.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I shrugged, deciding that if she’d expected what I think she expected; I was glad I was a big fucking surprise.

“Oh; yeah, totally!” Max nodded in agreement; clearly getting exactly what train of thought I was riding on, and deciding I was the polar opposite of it.

“I mean; I just can’t quite believe it...” She continued; her face a mixture of awe and disbelief as we continued to work on our barricade. “You seem so cool, and Billy’s a—“

“Total dick.” I finished off the sentence for her, not at all surprised that find Billy’s own sibling thought he was a douchebag.

Maybe I really was the first to see a different side to him.

“Hey; you said it, not me.” She held up her arms in surrender, as if she was worried the shadow of Billy would fall over her at any given minute.

But still; it wasn’t denial.

Then we both started laughing, because sometimes it was so damn refreshing to spend some time around another woman; budding as she may be, and I began to think maybe I should introduce her to El.

Of course; that would open a whole new can of worms with dad’s trust issues and secrecy laws.

“Hey; but aren’t you and Billy supposed to be...” She halted our laughing, creasing her red eyebrows in confusion.

So Billy did talk about me.

That, or maybe we were louder than I thought; in which case, I probably owed this kid an apology.

And some ear plugs.

I shook my head in refusal, trying my best to keep from smiling, because dick or not; thinking of Billy made me a little giddy.

“No. Nothing serious; we’re just...”

“Oh my god! You are!” She exclaimed; and I was becoming very aware that Steve could be back at any minute.

“We’re not even dating...” I continued to explain, but kids heard what they wanted to hear, and this one wanted some sort of decent payoff for putting up with a shitstain of a brother.

“You are far too cool for my brother; Lola Hopper.” Max praised, and somehow, her brand of hero worship was one I didn’t really mind.

“Hey; are those shitbirds helping you?” An uncharacteristically severe voice of one Steve Harrington interrupted our female bonding; the man in question coming into view with two folding chairs in hand.

“Steve; really, we’re fine...” I began to excuse, really not finding the idea of playing troop leader for a misfit troop of Boy Scouts appealing, but Steve was already well on his way marching over to the car the boys were not so subtly hiding behind.

“Jesus; is he always like this?” Max asked, chuckling at a rather fatherly Steve Harrington, busy lecturing two rather somber looking surrogate sons; completed with a complimentary hand on hip and finger waggle, as if he couldn’t take the metaphor far enough.

“You know; believe it or not, he’s actually pretty chilled normally.” I commented, smiling at how the boys suddenly started working double time under their “dad’s” direct supervision.

Daddy Steve.

Jesus; what a joke!

6 notes · View notes

mundane-pleasures-are-best · 5 years

Text

This Can’t be Real

Post-KH3 Akusai/Fluffy Grief

Isa opened his eyes, feeling warm fingers weaving through his hair, soft breath ghosting his round ears as he let out a pleased sigh, blinking once to test if this was an illusion.

Master Xehanort had been fond of those, making him relive Lea whispering sweet nothings to him and then stabbing him with a chakram and a deadly smirk, yanking it out and lighting his insides on fire. A deep laugh echoing in his brain as Master Xehanort delighted in his screams.

“Isa?” He turned to the redhead with a look of dread, pinching his own arm as Lea sighed.

“It happened again?”

“This can’t be real Lea, I can’t have happiness. I don’t deserve it.”

“Why?” Lea’s eyebrows raised, his face making a mixture of emotions- empathy, anguish, and worst of all- the pity. Isa hated the pity. Lea was only treating him well now, three years after the final battle, because of that pity. He was sure of it.

Isa sat up and looked down at his chest, free of scars, his aches limited to his thrashing during nightmares. He looked at Lea who scooted closer to him under the covers, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him to his body. Isa enjoyed the body heat, sleeping next to Lea was like having a living hot compress next to him. Isa was naturally cold, he had an iron deficiency as a child and it had not improved with age. He wondered if that’s why he was attracted to Lea in the first place, Axel had developed an affinity with fire. His body as a nobody had not suffered the faults of his human form, and he had been grateful, but now he was more grateful for the spooning as it started again, a leg wrapping around him, pulling him tight. He did hate being the little spoon though.

“Isa?” The redhead had been waiting for an answer, but saw the other was still distant, and as he started to nuzzle and mess with the blue locks he watched Isa’s eyes droop. Those lovely blue-green orbs something he had missed for years, but had not realized until he was staring back into them. “Alright nap-time again?” He chuckled. The taller male feeling cold toes touch his, making him shiver before he rubbed his feet against the other to get them warm again. He felt Isa lean into him subconsciously, so he reached for the weighted blanket the other had kicked to the end of the bed in his sleep and placed it back over them. Lea started placing soft kisses on the pale neck, enjoying the shivers and trembles against his frame. Isa bit his lip and he closed his eyes trying to resist the moan threatening to escape his throat.

“N-no.”

“No?” Lea stopped kissing his neck, terrified he had gone too far. It had been just a year ago when Isa allowed him to share a bed. They had been sleeping in different rooms for the first two years after the last battle.

“I just....I’m not. Lea what are you doing?”

“Kissing your neck?” Lea wondered where this was going, if Isa was going to dive back into his own mind and wander the home their parents had chipped in to rent for them. The whine at the door caused Isa to raise his head and look at it, the incessant clawed pawing and whines led Isa to untangle his body from Lea, in an effort to reach the door before the dogs took it down. Lea touched his shoulder softly, “I got it.”

He got out of bed, missing the spooning already; Lea opened the door as two large dogs pushed past him in an instant and jumped on the bed, taking his spot behind Isa and on the other side. Isa was smiling as they licked his face and nuzzled him, whining to alert him they had sensed his emotion again, and wanted him to feel better. Lea sighed and pushed the Saint Bernard slowly, with a LOT of effort, down the bed so he could reclaim his spot. The dog barely looked bothered, its tail wagging madly as it barked happily at him, army-crawling up as Lea spooned Isa quickly before his side of the bed could be stolen again. As soon as he he assumed it was safe the fluffy male dog placed its huge head on his hip, falling asleep on his legs, something he hated as it left him absolutely numb the next day. The other dog, a female rescue, peered over Isa’s shoulder at him with a look of interest to see if she was going to need to move as well. Instead she let out a pleased woof as Isa let her spoon against his stomach and lick his fingers, making Isa chuckle softly and whisper, “Good girl.”

Lea sometimes wondered if the dogs understood more than him about the man he knew for years. They always barged in to greet Isa, grabbed Isa’s arm and started to lead him to the kitchen, demanding food yet also forcing Isa to eat something as well. They barked when he didn’t eat, whined when he refused to do things, and licked his face to wake him up. Lea knew it was depression, or PTSD from being a vessel, or worse it was the guilt eating at him like when he looked at Roxas and Xion talking to Lea outside the house (they were not yet welcome inside with Isa yet, as he had started to stare at Xion as if she were a demon, now that had saw her actual face). Isa made Roxas angry, despite the other apologizing gruffly to him, and Xion felt extremely uncomfortable as she tried to understand why her presence affected him so. However, she dragged Roxas with her to visit Lea, hoping eventually Isa would open the door and invite them inside instead of retreating when Lea invited them in. The blue-haired man would disappear for hours, coming back with papers or something in his hands to make it seem like he had been busy.

Lea knew it a lie when he brought a book, Isa hadn’t been able to complete a book in ages and often he’d pick up a book with a daily astrology horoscope stuck in the middle. He found a book on the stages of grief under a towel by the tub, a book on astrology compatibility under the bed, and sadly some questionable searches on their home computer, thanks to him asking Ienzo to hack into the internet history. His heart broke when he read the searches about “how to live with onself,” “how can I say what I want,” and the worst “the afterlife and hell.” It wasn’t a religious quandary he was searching for, it was Isa struggling with conversations. His mother had advised him to try to talk to Isa more, but he was just as slippery with his words as he had been as Saix. Lea asked Isa’s parents and they told him to keep trying.

He tightened his grip on Isa, kissing the back of his neck, “I love you, you know?”

“I have it memorized,” Isa’s voice was dry, but soft. Lea knew he was mocking him, but the hand gripping his told him he appreciated the words.

They both feel asleep briefly and Lea didn’t need to coax the dogs to remain in bed as he woke up again and slipped out of the covers to make breakfast. He found the Saint Bernard hogging the bed again when he returned, both dogs eyeing the bacon on the plate and licking their lips. He pointed his thumb over his shoulder back at the kitchen, “Your breakfast is in there, I slipped some bacon-” they jumped off the bed and pushed him aside again, he could hear kibble flying everywhere from here, “Great...”

He rounded the bed as the other was rubbing his eyes, the dogs forcing him to wake up sooner than he wanted. Lea pulled the cup of coffee off of the plate and handed it to the other, Isa sipped at it immediately, looking at the plate of food that Lea set next to him a little too much like the dogs had. Isa set his mug down and started eating, as Lea went to the kitchen to pick up the glass of orange juice and plate of toast he had been forced to leave behind on the first trip. He kicked an ottoman near Isa and set them on top, as the blue eyes stared at him in surprise.

“Wow, you ...went all out. What’s the occasion? You sick?” Isa reached up to touch Lea’s forehead and then let his hand fall, “No.”

“Maybe I just like you.”

“Why?” Isa continued to look at him, suspiciously, wondering at Lea’s motive.

“Isa, not everything is a trap.”

The blue-haired man started eating more, hesitantly forking up eggs and still watching Lea, as the taller male sat on the bed next to him and cupped his face, licking the jam from the pink lips causing Isa to let out a sound of surprise, “Mm strawberry.”

Isa turned red, his blush carrying to his ears as he set the food down before he dropped it, scooting from his friend and looking down, turning a deeper red when Lea leaned over and kissed him, his soft lips grazing and brushing against his, hungrily sucking at Isa’s lips like they were breakfast to him. When Isa broke for air he managed to get out, “Where’s your food?”

He poked Isa square in his chest, “Right here.”

Isa smacked the hand aside and tried to seem composed as he headed for the bathroom, Lea following closely behind, finding that persistence was the only way to make Isa reveal what he was thinking. Isa whipped his head around as he had stepped into the bathroom, “And you’re going to take a bath now too?”

“No I was planning on running you a bath, oh yeah, watch your food.” Isa looked confused until he heard claws clicking on the floor as the dogs tried to sneak into the bedroom for scraps.

“Jupiter! Callisto!” Isa’s voice raised enough for the dogs to stop and freeze, caught in the act. He pointed to the living room as they retreated to their beds, and he closed the bedroom door, hearing Lea already starting the bath for him. For some reason he thought Isa was incapable of doing things for himself. Apparently unless he went berserk and hit people they had no respect for his own abilities.

Lea called over to him, “It’s getting warm, you better get in before I make it too hot again, as much as I enjoy your ass getting as red as my hair.”

Isa huffed and blushed again, his eyes narrowing at Lea, “You did that on purpose.”

“Not really, I just don’t get affected by the heat anymore, sorry Babe.”

“Babe?!” Isa choked out, feeling more insulted as the pet name had been uttered.

“Yeah, Babe, Pig in the City.” Lea smirked at him, turning the water down to a slow trickle as he added in bubble-bath and set out towels for him to dry off after the bath.

“I’m a pig now?” His voice was raising.

“Yeah a cute pink thing that squeals a lot.” His smirk widened.

Isa stomped his way over to him, as Lea took advantage of the situation and yanked Isa’s sleep-pants and boxers down in one swift motion, then shoved him into the tub. Lea had been careful not to overfill the claw-foot tub, so that it would not splash out as he pushed the other in.

The naked man fumbled as he fell, splashing and rearranging himself so that he was sitting up, moving his wet hair out of his face, about to yell at Lea about how immature that was, how he could have been injured, how he would kick his ass to next week, how he would-

Lea stripped off his pants and boxer-briefs quickly before he stepped into the tub from the other side, spreading his legs so they laid on either side of Isa’s hips, enjoying the way Isa stared then jerked his eyes away, huffing and muttering swears at him. Lea was amused how Isa’s cheeks matched his flaming head of hair now. It was cute.

“C’mon Isa, we have the same equipment, don’t act like a girl.” For emphasis he gathered a wave of bubbles between his legs, his eyebrows raised, “Better? Watch out I think I might have seen your dick when I threw you, oh no, now I’m just gonna get cooties.”

Isa glared at him, “Shut up. You’re just a pervert taking advantage of the situation.”

“Which one?” Lea cocked his head to one side, a smile playing on his lips.

“Me. You’re just enjoying what I am now,” Isa replied sharply, his voice getting cold, a strange resemblance to his nobody, “Useless. You just want something to pity, to help you get over the terrible things you did in the Organization.”

Lea moved his legs back, sitting up, as Isa’s eyes immediately rose to avoid looking down, Lea scooted closer to him, his tone even and eyes locked as he placed his hands on Isa’s knees, “Are you talking about me or you, Isa?” He ignored the glare, finally seeing past it, “You’re acting like Saix again, to make me leave you again.” He scooted further, his hips between Isa’s legs, his hands brushing up pale legs to grip the other’s hips, “I’m not leaving, do your worst, you can’t keep doing this.”

Isa took a breath, his glare wavering the closer Lea got, “Doing what?”

“Acting like a dick when you’re just feeling sad. I didn’t like that little asshole Vanitas, but my god do you act real similar when you get upset. I love you, and I know you hate to hear it, but I do. You’re allowed to have that.”

“What? An annoying friend that never stops bothering me?”

“I was going to say happiness and a life with a really hot friend,” Lea warmed up his hands and enjoyed the wordplay and the other’s squirm. Isa continued to avoid his eyes, shifting when Lea nibbled at his collarbone, finally closing the distance and kissing the side of Isa’s mouth, nipping at his lower lip, pulling it and letting it snap back. He felt Isa turn and kiss back, soft at first, his own hair getting a rough yank as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the older male’s tongue shove into his mouth, in a pathetic attempt to establish dominance in a relationship centered on rebuilding equality. He trapped Isa’s tongue with his teeth, holding it ransom as Isa growled at him, swiftly letting go with another laugh. As Isa went to yell at him he kissed him deeply, feeling his friend lean back into the wall of the tub, wrapping his arms around Lea’s neck until Lea parted and placed another kiss on his pale nose.

“Why...did you stop?” Isa was out of breath, watching Lea pull back with a soft whine in his tone. Lea smiled and got back to his knees, tugging Isa forward and managing to wiggle him around so that Isa was between his legs and he could rest his chin on Isa’s shoulder. He felt the other shiver, this time from both the air and the closeness. Lea turned the water back on and grabbed Isa’s comb from the small table next to the tub that held grooming products, mostly Isa’s.

He started to comb his hair, placing his hand at the other’s scalp and holding his hair at the base to avoid yanking his head during snarls in the locks. Isa slowly sank back into Lea’s chest, closing his eyes as the other gently combed out his hair, occasionally kissing the top of his head and ears, rubbing his nose against the other’s ear as he stopped combing and pulled stray hairs out of the comb, tossing them onto the towel next to the tub. Once it was free of hair he began combing again, humming some of Isa’s favorite songs as he worked, only stopping when the other’s head lolled to the side, as he heard Isa start to snore softly, his face more calm than it had been in weeks. He chuckled softly, soaking in the tub and using his thighs to lock Isa in place as he slept so that he wouldn’t drown. He waited until the water started to get cold and his toes pruned to move Isa. It was hard lifting him without waking him in the tub and he was glad he had thought ahead and moved the bathroom rug close to the tub before they got in. He took Isa back to the bed, taking one of their many throw blankets that Isa had acquired and lightly dried him off and finally wrapped in another dry blanket, tucking him into the bed after he slipped Isa’s boxers back on so that if he woke up he wouldn’t assume anything unwanted had happened. Lea walked back to the bathroom to drain the tub then went back to the bed to take a nap, curling around Isa again to warm him as he slept. The dogs took care of his other side and the foot of the bed, surrounding Isa in a toasty embrace.

---

It was afternoon when Lea woke up, he looked at the clock with a smile, they had managed to waste half of the day snuggling. It was an improvement. He looked down and smiled wide, Isa had turned in his sleep and his head was buried in Lea’s chest, his legs between the redhead’s and toes touching his. Isa turned out to be quite the little needy snuggler. Lea reached for the remote that was teetering stupidly on the top of the headboard and turned on the science channel at a low volume, watching a show on explosions and feeling happy, today seemed right. This was how it was supposed to be.

Isa opened his eyes halfway through the second episode of the show Lea was watching, his eyes moving without turning his head. His body was warm, relaxed, it was....comforting? He felt fur against his back, Lea’s chest was a pleasant temperature keeping him cozy and not uncomfortable. Isa’s guilt returned again, hands stroked his cheek, fingers in his damp hair curling the blue strands at the tips. Those same fingers running through the combed hair and causing him to moan lightly at the feeling, the guilt weakened, a warmth sneaking past it, a feeling he was unfamiliar with...

This was how it was supposed to be?

He buried his face in Lea’s chest, he still smelled the breakfast from the nightstand, the dogs snored loudly next to him, television hummed with noise from the show, and his friend let out a happy sigh.

“Lea?” Isa’s eyes were closed, his breathing soft and even.

“Mm?” Lea looked down, stroking the other’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“I...I think I can get used to this.”

Lea smiled, his fingers tracing Isa’s chin, thumb rolling over soft skin on his forehead, no longer bearing a horrible scar, “I think I can too. I love you, Isa.”

Isa snorted lightly, a playful smile on his lips, “I didn’t forget.”

#akusai #lea #isa #postKH3 #kh #fic #fluff

47 notes · View notes