#instead of what she closed herself in a box to become what will tricked her into being etc. etc.

[creamecream]

The jaded bride.

#I'm not sure what to call this an update? an upgrade? it's not a redesign #supposed to be something shyla changes into after finally confronting will and finding out how he actually feels #and she gets that no matter how perfect she was no matter how good she tried to be and ignore all the signs #he still cheated on her he still did not give a damn about their marriage and loved the thrill of what he was doing #shyla tried so hard to ignore any sign of will's wrongdoing and just wanted to be loving and perfect #wanted to be his perfect wife his perfect partner she loved him so much she adored him #thus the puppet as a literal motif of her mindset and her devotion to her husband #and when that breaks we go to the messy jaded black bride as a motif #the wronged bride what will turned her into and lied to her for her to become #instead of what she closed herself in a box to become what will tricked her into being etc. etc. #anyway! not a redesign but I'm not sure what to call it a change later #a messy 'wedding dress' more just a corset and fabric but it's supposed to be like wedding dress and wedding lingerie mashup #and constant ink stains in a nod to running mascara and tears then broken hearts instead of hearts etc. #and I'm going off again just have my gorl I finally managed a fun art I actually liked drawing this #hazbin hotel #fan character #shyla

[igotanidea]

More than blood: batboys x bat!sister

Dick was not the first one who was adopted by Bruce.

Y/N was.

And if you talk about the eldest daughter complex she was the perfect example of it.

Y/N was so much like her adoptive father. Quiet, observant, seemingly emotionally cold yet charming and enticing when circumstances called for it. Smart like hell. She knew exactly how to take care of herself, and yet, Bruce being himself was always hesitant to let her out into the streets of Gotham at night. But she fought for it. Hard. She had no natural talent for fight, but she was fast, flexible and imperceptible in the shadows. Slowly, but steadfastly she gathered enough strength and skills to become the very first Batman’s sidekick. She was not a fan of a traditional way of training. Boxing, weight lifting and throwing punches wasn’t exactly her style, but she was extremely good with skates and rollerblades and all the moves that involved a bit of dance-like moves. So that was how Bruce trained her. Three-turns, brackets and rockers just came naturally to her, both on ice on the ground and she was soon the best of the best. When she was ready to come on patrol,  Bruce created the most cliche name for her.

Batgirl.

Which she instantly refused, instead choosing to go by the name of Cover. After all, that was what she was doing. Covering.

At first, it was only Bruce and Alfred she was taking care of.  Never pushing anything but always finding a way to make sure they did the right thing. Listening carefully to their every word, getting her head around any possible situation and just being there when they needed her. She was not a people pleaser and definitely wasn’t going out of her own way for them (and that was the hot spot between her and Bruce), but in times of need and crisis she was the best possible support. Unwavering. Strong. Persistent.

And then, Dick came in. Of course, having younger brother (even if there was barely half a year age gap) put a lot more pressure on her shoulder. So she did her best to connect with him. It was hard, no denying. Dick has just lost his parents and he was harsh and murky and  a bit unpredictable. But she did not give up making sure he will finally warm up to her. And maybe Bruce.

“What are you doing?” one day, after particularly rough training with Bruce he came across her while she was working out

“Oh, you know. I was never good with all those flips” she lowly lifted herself from the floor, rubbing sweat from her forehead, her hair being a total mess. “Bruce insisted I learned some, but I was always better with my speed, skate figures and fast-thinking than actual acrobatics. However” she raised an eyebrow at the boy “I heard you are the master in the field. Care to show me a few tricks? Unless you prefer to sulk in the corner….” She smirked

And so they connected. Creating a lot of inside jokes during the year, being the support for each other. Of course, as older sister Y/N had no problem in literally smacking his head when he did something stupid and as younger brother he had no inhibitions in scaring her potential boyfriends away, but yes, they were close.

And then, Jason came in. The rowdy kid from the Crime Alley and she had to figure out another way to reach him. It didn’t take a lot of time to notice he was interested in literature, so she started leaving books around in the manor. Mostly classics, like Jane Austen and Shakespeare, but from time to time she risked more modern writers. He always took them from the place they were and returned a couple days later. He was a fast reader. One night, when he returned from patrol, all fuming and on the verge of breaking, he noticed a light coming out of her room and due to some crazy feelings took a few steps towards there.

“Hello, Jason” he might have been quiet, but she was the first trained by Bruce, so the poor boy has no chance not to be noticed.  She turned in her chair and smiled lightly “It’s good to see you.  So it happens I got tickets for a midsummer night’s dream. Two tickets. Would you maybe ….”

“Yes. Yes, please, take me with you.” his eyes was glistening with so much hope she would choose him, it made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. Pushing aside the urge to hug Jason (it was too early for that and he would not appreciate) she just nodded. And there was the connection.

And then, there was Tim. The Brainiac. Coffee addict. Sleep deprived. Constantly working, cracking cases. And being quite successful at it, even if sometimes he took the long road instead of connecting the dots to create the shortcuts.

“How’s the case going?” she asked at breakfast one time, noticing Tim’s tired eyes and disheveled hair. He wasn’t sleeping well that night, but what’s new.

“It’s not.” he groaned pecking at his food not really eating any of it “and stop making fun out of me because of it!”

“Fun?” she almost choked on her toast “Really, Tim? I’m not happy at all that you are missing the most obvious piece of the puzzle.”

“The most ob….? You were compromising my work?!”

“I was …. Checking your work” now, she had to be extremely careful with words “And what I found out is that you definitely have a criminal mind. But” she raised a hand stopping him before he could say a thing “you are also awfully messy, Tim. You splattered some coffee on the sheets and blurred the numbers. And that is why you couldn’t reach the conclusion.”

“I…. What!?”

“Hate to break it to you, champ.” She shrugged taking a sip of her own coffee “but apart from that, you did a really good job with the task.”

And with a couple more cases like this they got into real sibling relationship.

Damian was the hardest one. Trained by the assassin, treated like a threat and a menace, far more tough than Jason, cruel and with no moral compass. Not by his fault. He was the one who needed some soft care most of them all, but would never accept. So there were two options, get to him with fighting skills or by using his art adoration. She couldn’t just leave art supplies for him like she did with Jason and books, but she got one more idea, which required a bit of Alfred’s help.

‘Rough night miss y/n?” the butler asked when the girl emerged from the batcave, covered in bandages and patches.

“You have no idea, Alfred” she yawned “At first B had me running around the streets creating some sort of diversion for him, since none of the Robins where available “ a quick glance towards her three brothers “and when I got back I got lost into my latest painting…..” she trailed waiting for Damian’s reaction. Seemingly nothing has changed, but she looked carefully enough to notice his eyebrows lifting slightly and his body shift towards her to hear better. Gotcha!

“The castle?” Alfred asked, curiosity in his voice

“Yes. I’m almost finished  and I think I will need some help in hanging it in the living room soon. Will you be so kind with it Alfred?”

“Of course, miss Y/N.”

A couple days later, the painting did hang on the wall and some Sunday afternoon she found Damian standing in front of it and looking it up and down.

“I could have used a bit more blue on the edges.” She said stopping by his right side.

“Not just blue.” He retorted

“Nighttime blue?” she asked

“Nighttime blue” he said at the same time and their gazes met.  She tilted her head slightly while Damian’s face showed a bit of surprise. He was so young and so wrongly treated it was almost unfair.

“I know, but it’s too close to the color of Dick’s suit. He would never let me live it through.” She let out a laugh and Damian smirked.

“I got an idea of how we can improve your next painting if you ever were to create another.”

“Oh, you think you are better than me in the art field?” she gasped grabbing her heart in fake hurt

“I know I am.”

“Wanna bet?”

And so he warmed up to her as well. It seemed like all of the batboys were prone to her silent charm. But obviously there were times when she had bad days. Being the one with the longest training, seeing most of the violent things and crimes and living thought her own tragic events sometimes, in the times of greatest stress she was just becoming completely silent. Not able to say a word, getting through the days like a ghost, wanting to disappear, getting lost inside her own head. Usually, it lasted up to four or five days, and it was normal. Just a sign for Bruce to put her off the patrol so she can get through whatever was going on inside her head. He wasn’t the one to actually talk a lot about feelings and emotions, but even Batman had to be alerted after two weeks of radio silence on her part.

From the little intel he had on her since she left the manor he learned that for the last days she wasn’t eating properly, struggling with her work, looking tired and worn out even though she was sleeping a lot. Something was off and the only people who could actually be of help would be her brothers.  Dick was in Bludhaven, Jason was running around the Crime Alley, Tim was busy with work for Wayne Enterprises and Damian, well…there was no way of figuring out what he was up to. Bruce groaned not really sure how to call the boys for rescue but it was about Y/N so he just used the unofficial channel and simply called all of them. He did not expect that they would gang up and show at the manor at the exact same time. Those stone walls haven’t; heard that much of a banter and silly fights for a while and despite everything, deep, deep inside Bruce was glad they came.

“Let’s be clear. I’m here only because of Y/n.” Jason stated bluntly “nothing more”

“thank god, I thought Red Hood was getting soft” Dick punched his arm playfully and was surprised with how hard his little brother’s muscle were.

“If you want me to show you…..”

“Where exactly is Y/N?” Tim interrupted his brothers fight, focusing on the most important matter

“And where are her paintings?” Damian frowned looking around.

“She moved out some time ago and took her works with her.” Bruce hissed. It was somewhat …. painful to admit that she left.

“Where?” Jason hissed

None of them cared that it was the middle of the day and their sister was probably at work. They had their own methods of getting inside the building unnoticed and years of training came extremely useful in that case.

Poor Y/N. Work was hard, as usual during the last couple days, she was tired and sad and dealing with a lot of thoughts. Even her usual way of blowing steam off while skating or rollerblading wasn’t helping.  She might have left her vigilante persona behind, but old habits die hard and when she climbed up the step to her apartment she could not fail to notice shadows on the floor and almost inaudible voices coming from the inside. Her instincts immediately kicked in when she put the bag down, bracing herself and busted through the door. Her first, perfectly aimed punch met with Tim’s stomach and the half-turn kick got Damian falling onto the ground. It took both Dick and Jason to stop her from making any more damage.

“Calm down Y/N! It’s just us” Jason calmed her down smirking, surprised with her skills that wasn’t gone.

“Will you behave?” Dick added making sure she wasn’t going to attack them again and only then letting her go

“What the hell?!” she hissed getting free of her brother’s grip “what are you four doing here?!”

“since when do you know how to punch?” Tim groaned “I thought that wasn’t your style?”

“I expanded my skill set. Out of everyone here you should be the one to appreciate it, Tim.”

“I would esteem it better if it wasn’t aimed at me.”

“Right. Sorry. But the question remains. What the hell are you doing here?! You know, I;m used to one Robin, or former Robin, come around from time to time, but this?”

“Father called upon us. He was worried something was off with you.” Damian spat getting off the floor, embarrassment visible on his face.

“Bruce was worried?” she laughed ironically “Right. Sure. He was the reason I left the manor. Should have taken example from you Dick and run the hell away ten years ago.”

“It was five….” Dick tried to chime in but she did not let him

“And now he’s so worried he won’t even visit me by himself. Instead he just send a rescue party?” she turned around and  slumped on the couch

“Y/N…..” Jason tried to reason with her “come on, tell your favorite brother what happened”

“For once I agree with Todd. Tell your favorite brother what is wrong. I mean, me, of course in case someone does not get the clue” Damian hissed taking a spot next to Y/N before anyone else could do it.

“Cut it guys, everyone knows I’m her favorite. I know her the longest of us all and I know everything about her.” Dick objected, crossing his arms with a wide smile, being so sure no one could threaten his position

“Everything?” Tim scoffed “You have no idea about half of the things she likes. I learned them. By myself.”

“Yeah, by spying on her. You call that a good relationship?”

“I do not spy!”

“Cut it, replacement. We all know the most bonding thing are inside jokes. And we have plenty since we read the same books. You wouldn’t even get half of our quotes!”

“Let me get my gear and I’ll show you how half of a quote look like. Art is what connects people and you all are just nonentity in that area. Not like me. Besides, I was training with her the most, so…..” Damian interrupted and at this moment all four boys were just shouting at each other while their sister was sitting on the sofa watching the scene in front of her eyes without any word.

“Get out.” She finally said. Quietly, but they heard her and stopped immediately “All of you. Get out. Now. “

“Y/n….” Dick was first to notice his sister’s pale skin and shaking hands “Please….”

“No.” she shook her head “I;ve had enough. This is exactly why I was always making sure you won’t show up at my place at once. You just can’t seem to fight who’s better or stronger or smarter or more skilled. It’s been like that all our time together. You just try so hard to outdo one another. “

“Well, I mean, she’s not wrong” Jason smirked running a hand through his hair and was instantly met with four pairs of reproachfully eyes “sorry….”

“Is that what bothers you?” Tim asked silently bending down to look into her eyes.

“What? No. Hell no. Why do you think something bothers me?” she stood up abruptly heading to the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water. Shit, Tim was always the one to crack her faster than others.

“You have cuts on your forearms.” Red Robin pointed and she tried to cover them quickly

“And a bruise on the neck.” Damian added following her

“Those kind of traces that does not come from skating.” Jason poked at her skates thrown on the floor in the corridor

“And that means you….I mean, Cover, has been active again.” Dick finalized. “Why?”

“Oh, come in….” she was getting more and more nervous with every minute “is this an interrogation now?”

“No. This are four brothers concerned about their sister well-being.  Does that sound better.”

“Vaguely.”

“Why did you put on the suit again?”

“Because I wasn’t feeling enough!” she spat and immediately covered her mouth to stop the sob coming next

“What?!” Jason hissed and grabbed her hand which made her flinch “oh, so you hurt your hands as well.  Not so much about expanding your skills in punching, hm?”

“Shut up.” She hissed back at him, sticking her tongue out

“That’s a very mature behavior for the oldest one” Damian pointed “but Grayson’s question is still on. Why did you pick up the mantle again? You said you were done?”

“I was. Until one night I heard the weeps and screams of my neighbor being beaten by her boyfriend.”

“Y/N….”

“And the other time, when I heard on the news how Nightwing got beaten while protecting people who were trapped in the fire….”

“I did not…..”

“Oh, and that one time when some little bird brought the news about Red Hood getting in trouble in the Crime Alley and almost dying? Again.”

“ok, it wasn’t even half as bad…..” Jason tried to defend himself

“And then, Red Robin and Robin. Running loose without batman. Dealing with criminals on their own accords and getting involved in the shooting?”

“It was Drake’s fault!” Damian cried out and Tim just punched him lightly

“Stop it.” Red Robin hissed at his younger brother “let her make a point, because it’s not it.”

“Then what is?”

“Come on, sis, tell us” Jason crouched next to her and squeezed her hands lightly

“I…. I can’t”

“Of course you can. There’s no shame in anything. Safe space. And as your big brother, I have duty to make sure you are all right.”

“You are younger than me, Dick.”

“Barely younger. And still, the oldest brother. “

“Come on, Y/N. Just spit it out.”

“Fine. Fine. Just quit looking at me like that. It’s creepy. I… I might have gotten into a bad relationship…..

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down, Damian. It wasn’t that serious. I kicked his butt first time he came at me….”

“WHAT?! I’m gonna find him. I’m gonna find him and…..” Dick caught his younger brother before he could get out and really find and eliminate the guy.

“It’s in the past. But you know, all that got me thinking. About who I was in the past. The cover. And how you guys were always out there, putting your lives at risk while I was just sitting at home, watching and doing nothing…..”

“so you thought it would be good idea to just go out on patrol by yourself.” Tim threw his arms in the air in frustration “Y/N, you know better than that.”

“Come on, what was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Call me….” Jason said, but corrected himself due to Damian poking him in the ribs “I mean…. Us.”

“How could I?” she rolled her eyes.  “You guys have enough on your plates without me.”

“This is unbelievable” Tim scoffed

“You never patrol alone and we would never let you do it” Damian added

“What do you mean without you?” Dick narrowed his eyes at their sister “do you think you are some sort of burden?”

“Well…. I…. um…..”

“Are you insane?” Jason was the first one to burst. “Are you insane?”

“You do realize we are family, right?”

“This is a pretty crazy family.”

“Sure, but at the end of the day we watch each other’s back and that’s why we are all….alive.”

“Ekhem….”

“Sorry, Jayson, but we are alive. Some of us get to be alive more than once, but still.”

“I hate you, Dickhead”

“Look Y/N, no matter what you need to know you are important. You were the one to always take care of all of us, so, just for once, let us do the same.”

“But isn’t that what the eldest sibling of the family is supposed to do?”

“Since when do you care about supposed to do?”

“Never did. But I care about you guys and…..”

“Let us help Y/N. You are not alone. “

“I know. “

“So why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying!”

“You are!”

“Stop it! It’s just …. Nice, to know someone cares about you, all right? That is… new.”

“Come here, you silly one.” Dick crushed her in a bear hug to the point where it was nearly impossible to breathe “you’re not doing it again alone, you hear me?”

“So, what are you suggesting?”

“I’m thinking.….. just for the sake of all times…. A little night patrol with all your crazy brothers?”

“Dunno. Is Red Hood ready to work with the bats?” she smirked at Jason.

“Just this once. And we stay out of the Crime Alley.” He shook his head in disapproval but his words were contradiction to his action.

“How about our little Robins?”

“I’m not little!” Damian yelled

“Neither am I, but still I’m down. It’s been a while and I’m wondering if you really did enhanced your fighting skills.” Tim smiled

“So, it’s settled. Everyone meet me here at the dawn?”

“You sure you can handle four vigilantes in your tiny apartment?”

“I’ve been doing it my whole life. And I can always ground you. Big sister privilege.”

She smiled at her brothers and despite their protests she was now feeling so much better. Just knowing that she had someone (more than one) to rely on made her feel valued and cared for. This family was more than blood and they were protectors of each other as much as of Gotham.

#batboys x reader #batboys x batsis #batfamily x reader #batsis #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #timothy drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin dc #batboys x y/n #batboys x you #batfam x you #batfam #batfamily

[george-weasleys-girl]

Hola. Could you write a fic on reader maybe being kidnapped by the Death Eaters whilst she out buying supplies for her boyfriend Fred and George's shop, they give her the Death Eater tattoo on her arm and ask her to work for them for the war? She reluctantly agrees as they threaten to hurt her friends, but uses the information the Death Eaters give her to help the school, trio and order win the war? In the war, a Death Eater goes to kill Fred, and reader steps in the way saving him (BC we need Fred in our lives) and blowing up the Death Eater instead, so she's total badass. After the war, Fred proposes to reader and helps her get the tattoo removed from her arm.

Sorry it took so long to get this one out. I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence and death

~•~

Y/N stumbled through the front door of the Burrow. Arthur and Molly ran across the room, catching her just before she hit the floor.

"Thanks," she rasped, only half aware of being led to the sofa.

"Y/N dear, what happened?" Molly asked.

A bitter laugh escaped Y/N's lips. "Death Eaters. Death Eaters are what happened."

~•~

Y/N blinked her eyes open. The tiny room was dark except for a thin shaft of light trickling in from underneath the door. She pushed herself up, a wave of nausea rolling over her, brought on by the sudden blinding pain in her head.

Fuck...

For a few minutes, she simply sat there, massaging her temples until the throbbing subsided enough that she could focus on her surroundings. She was sitting in the center of a small, windowless room that smelled of mold and something sour and acrid that burned her nose.

Where the hell am I?

How did I get here?

Crawling across the room, she tried the door, unsurprised to find it locked. That was when she heard people talking. Y/N pressed her ear against the door but couldn't make out more than a random word here and there. And yet, one of the voices, a woman's voice, sounded familiar. But she couldn't quite place it.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus through the fuzzy haze of her returning headache. She'd almost given up when the woman laughed, and with that laugh, it all came flooding back to her.

~•~

Fred paced from one end of the living room to the other, stopping every few seconds to look out the window. "She should've been back by now, George. Dammit, I should've gone with her. If something happened to her..." Fred grabbed his jacket. "I'm going to go look for her."

George stood. "Not by yourself, you're not."

Fred simply nodded and turned to toss George his jacket but froze at the sound of an owl tapping at the window.

~•~

Y/N had been out on her weekly run into London to pick up the joke shop's order for muggle magic tricks. The purchase of these muggle inventions by the magical community had become a small but powerful act of defiance against Voldemort. Fred and George could barely keep them in stock.

She'd made the trip so many times without incident that she'd let her guard down, allowing her mind to wander instead of scanning her surroundings for trouble. So, when Y/N found herself confronted by Death Eaters, she was completely unprepared.

"Hello there, dearie," a woman pushed her way through the circle surrounding Y/N. "What's in your wee box?" She grinned, revealing crooked, yellowing teeth. "Why don't we take a peek, hmm?"

Y/N clasped the box tighter and reached into the empty pocket where her wand should've been.

"Looking for this?" A gravelly voice behind her taunted. She whirled around to find a Death Eater twirling it in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Y/N lunged for it, dropping the box in the process, its contents spilling across the cobblestones. Seconds later, someone grabbed her arms from behind, holding her in place.

"What the fuck do you want?" She spat.

The woman with the yellow teeth laughed. "You dearie. We want you." She bent down and picked up one of the toys at her feet, gingerly holding it away from herself, her lips curled in disgust. "Sneaking these in for those filthy Weasley boys, eh? Naughty, naughty."

Before Y/N could react, a sharp pain exploded from the base of her skull and radiated down her spine.

Then the world went dark.

~•~

"How long has she been out?" Fred sat on the floor, next to the sofa where Y/N lay unconscious.

"Not long. Half hour, maybe. As soon as we got her settled, I sent the owl to you," Arthur said.

"Any idea what happened?" George asked.

"Death Eaters. That's all we know," Molly explained.

~•~

Y/N had almost dozed off from boredom when the door swung open, bright light flooding the tiny room. She blinked several times, her eyes watering from the sudden shift. A hulking beast of a man stepped through the doorway. "Wakey, wakey," he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her up and out of the room.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked as he drug her along. "Madam V wishes to speak with you," the man responded with a taunting snicker before he stopped suddenly, opening up a door and pushing her through it.

Inside, three people stood, but Y/N only recognized one of them. "Hello there, dearie," the woman grinned, showing off her crooked, yellowing teeth. "I trust you had a nice nap?"

Y/N crossed her arms. "Madam V, I presume?"

The woman's eyebrows shot up, and she glared at the man still standing in the doorway but said nothing.

"Why the fuck am I here?" Y/N demanded.

"Ooh, we've got a fiesty one," the woman laughed, turning her attention back to her hostage. "Good. I like a little spirit."

"You haven't answered my question," Y/N said through gritted teeth.

"I'm so sorry. Do pardon my rudeness," Madam V mocked. "You, dearie, are going to help us," she said, reaching out and grabbing Y/N's chin.

Y/N wrenched herself away. "I'm not doing a damn thing for you."

"Oh, but I think you will," the Death Eater laughed. "If you want to keep your precious Weasleys from being torn limb from limb."

~•~

"More water, love?" Fred asked.

Y/N shook her head, placing her glass on the table. She'd slept for most of the afternoon and had woke up parched, downing nearly an entire pitcher of water before she was ready to speak.

"So," she said. "I guess you all want to know what happened?"

Four sets of eyes stared into hers.

"Ok, right. Stupid question." She gave a wry grin. "I'm, of course, not supposed to show you this," Y/N explained and then pushed up her sleeve to reveal a Death Eater tattoo.

A collective intake of breath filled the room and then only silence.

Umm...ok, then...

Y/N had expected an uproar, not silence. She chewed on her lip, debating on the best way to proceed, when Fred reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Whatever happened, we're still on your side."

She gave him a small smile and nodded. "They threatened your lives if I didn't cooperate."

"What do you mean by cooperate?" Arthur leaned forward.

"They want me to spy for them."

~•~

For the next few months, Y/N played a dangerous game. Gathering intel on the Death Eaters for the Order while feeding the enemy just enough accurate information that they didn't get suspicious.

It worked for a while.

"You need to give us more than that, dearie," Madam V said. "Your usefulness is dwindling."

"You're the ones who picked me," Y/N retorted. "If you wanted more, you should've picked someone higher up in the order."

Madam V narrowed her eyes. "So, you're telling me you've heard nothing on the whereabouts of the Potter boy?"

"Nothing. I don't think the order has a clue where he is, and even if they did, they wouldn't tell some lowly member like me."

"I thought you're all kissy face with one of those Weasley twins."

"Not any more," Y/N lied. "Thanks to you, I broke up with him so I wouldn't have to explain this shit." She pointed at her tattoo. "Why do you think I'm no longer living at the shop? Hmm?" Y/N rolled her eyes. "Not that it matters anyway. Do you honestly think the Order would trust either of the twins with any vital information? Even you should be aware of their reputation."

"Fine," the Death Eater moved to stand nose to nose with Y/N. "But you'd better not be lying to me, dearie. Otherwise, things will get very unpleasant for you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

~•~

"They're starting to suspect that all is not as it seems," Y/N told the Order as they gathered around the Weasley's dining table.

"That you're spying for us instead of them?" Fred asked.

"Not quite yet. But it's only a matter of time before they figure it out."

Fred rubbed his forehead. "This is not good. We need to get you out of this."

"What? No! You can't pull me yet," Y/N shook her head. "You still need me on the inside."

Kingsley Shacklebolt cleared his throat. "Fred's right, Y/N," he reasoned. "You've gotten us more than enough information. With what you've brought us and the intel from our other spies, we have enough to build an effective counteroffensive. It's time to get you out of there."

Y/N looked around the room for anyone who might stand with her and came up alone. "Ok, fine," she sighed. "Let's assume we agree to do this. How are we gonna pull it off? They watch me 24/7. I can't just slip away one day. Or somehow fake my death. They'd know."

"Actually, maybe we can," Tonks said, practically bouncing in her seat.

"Maybe we can do what? Fake her death?" Arthur asked.

"Yep! It's no secret that Y/N has been living with us since her 'breakup' with Fred. It's also no secret that Remus locks himself in our basement on full moons. What if we just switched things around a bit?"

"Switch things around?" Molly's eyebrows drew together. "How so?"

"We'll lock Y/N in the basement inst--."

"No." Remus interrupted. "It's too dangerous."

Tonks turned to her husband. "No more dangerous than her being a double agent. Besides, if that door can keep you in, it will most certainly keep you out. And we can strengthen the protections around it, if it makes you feel any better."

"And what will you be doing?" He asked.

"I'll escape and sound the alarm that you broke out of your confines and slaughtered Y/N."

"Have you lost your mind?" The color had drained completely from Lupin's face. "Hell no. I refuse to endanger you or Y/N. We'll have to think of something else."

Without a word, Tonks stood and pulled Remus upstairs. While they were gone the Order, not entirely comfortable with idea either, tossed around other possibilities, none of which were any better or less dangerous.

When Remus and Tonks returned to the table, a vote was taken, and a plan was made.

Then, two weeks later, Y/N's mangled remains were carried from Lupin's home.

~•~

Hellbent on redeeming herself in the Dark Lord's eyes, Madam V blasted her way through Hogwarts, every kill sending a thrill of glee pumping through her veins. There was only one thing that would've made the day perfect, but that damned werewolf had already taken out her traitorous little spy. She would've loved to watch the bitch writhing on the floor at her feet, begging for death.

No matter, though. The Order would pay dearly for Y/N's betrayal. The Death Eater would make certain of it.

Following the sounds of intense fighting, Madam V rounded a corner and found herself walking right into the middle of a fiery skirmish. A maniacal giggle tumbled from her lips when she recognized a certain redhead. She didn't know which twin it was, nor did she care. They'd both be dead by the end of the day, anyway.

The Death Eater aimed her wand, ready to launch the killing curse, when it suddenly went flying out of hand.

"I don't think so," a familiar voice spoke.

The woman whirled around, eyes widening in surprise. "You!" She spat.

"Yeah. Me," Y/N said, a wicked grin spread across her face as she held up the Death Eater's wand.

A scream of rage rent the air, and Madam V launched herself at her archenemy. Y/N attempted to stupefy her, but the Death Eater swerved out of the way, pulling a handful of black powder from her pocket and lobbing it straight at Y/N's face. It stung her eyes, blinding her and causing her to drop the women's wand.

"Nice try, dearie," Madam V picked up her wand, cackling. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, I'm going to kill your boyfriend, and then I'm going to kill you. After I break every bone in your fucking body, that is."

Y/N eyes burned and watered, but she willed herself to keep them open. She could see just enough to make out the blurred shape of Madam V moving away from her toward Fred.

Not wanting to risk accidentally hitting an innocent person with a spell, Y/N hurled herself at the Death Eater instead, all the while screaming at Fred to get down. Madam V turned seconds before Y/N slammed into her, knocking them both to the ground. Despite the force with which Y/N hit her, the older woman was able to gain the upper hand, rolling her former spy underneath her with vicious speed. But anything the Death Eater might've said or done after that was cut short by a deafening boom that shook the walls and rained down debris all around them.

~•~

Three weeks later

Y/N struggled to remember much of what happened during the battle at Hogwarts. According to the healers, she'd sustained a nasty concussion that had wiped most of her memories of the day.

All she knew was that she'd saved Fred's life. "If you hadn't yelled at me to get down, I'd probably be dead," Fred had told her. "Seconds after I dropped to the floor, a bomb exploded."

A large stone had slammed into his leg, snapping it in two. If he had still been standing, she was told, it would've most likely hit and snapped his spine or his neck, as had happened to Madam V. The Death Eater had Y/N pinned to the ground when the bomb went off, unintentionally shielding her from the full brunt of the explosion and taking a fatal hit to the neck.

"I never thought I'd raise a glass to the murderous bitch," Fred announced while out to dinner at their favorite restaurant, celebrating the removal of her Death Eater tattoo. "But here's a toast to Madam V, who saved your life and gave me the chance to do something I've wanted to do for a very long time."

Moving to kneel before her, he pulled a small velvet box out of his jacket pocket and opened it to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. "I've known you were the one since the first time you helped me and George set off dung bombs in the middle of potions class. I love you more than anything, baby, and if you'll have me, I promise I'll be the best husband ever. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me and be my partner in crime always and forever?"

Y/N didn't have to think twice. "Yes, of course, I'll marry you!!" She exclaimed, leaping into his arms. The whole restaurant cheered as Fred slid the ring onto her finger and then pulled her into a kiss that made more than a few of the onlookers blush crimson red.

~•~

If your url is crossed out, I'm unable to tag you.

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe

#fred weasley #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader

[lilypadlys]

Domestic December Day 13 - Someone Can't Sleep

Sunshine has a bad nightmare and goes to Cirrus for help getting back to sleep.

Notes: Prompt list by comp-lady. See prompt list here

Nightmares and sleepy cuddles below the cut or on AO3

Sunshine walks up to the edge of the stage to throw picks into the audience. They do it every show, it shouldn't be any different. And yet she feels uneasy. The cheers and screams of the crowd are a little too loud. A little too rabid…desperate even. When she tosses her last pick and turns to walk away, hands reach for her. Hands tipped in claws? It must be a trick of the light.

She joins the rest of the pack for bows. Facing the crowd again, she shudders. The low light and hunter’s moon casts the sky and audience in an eerie red glow. She doesn’t know who’s beside her and she blindly reaches for their hands. Instead she feels a hand press into her back and shove. She falls to her knees in time for a sharp kick to connect with her side. She yelps in pain and surprise as she rolls to the end of the stage. She glances over the edge.

The audience has morphed. No longer a mass of people held back several feet by a barrier but instead a dark gaping chasm occupied by eldritch horrors crying in agony. She can see no end to the abyss and she has the sinking feeling that it goes on forever. She scrambles backwards away from the edge.

She turns back to her bandmates to find them circling her. Closing in. The red light glints off the lenses of their masks and she shudders. In fact, the masks seem somehow melded with their skin, the lenses becoming bug eyes and the holes for their mouths becoming gaping maws.

“H-hey guys. C-could you help me up?”

They don’t answer. Rather they press in closer boxing her in.

“W-what's going on?”

One of them steps forward. Cirrus she thinks, though the cruel sneer on her face is unlike the ghoulette she knows and loves.

“And why would we do that?” She tilts her head and smirks.

“This isn’t funny guys. You’re scaring me.” Sunny backs away as much as she can before she reaches the edge of the stage.

“Oh? Poor little Sunshine. Scared and alone.” She grins showing too sharp teeth.

“Cirrus? I mean it! Please stop-”

“Plead all you want. I’m not going to help you.”

Lighting fast she darts forward. She laces a hand around Sunny’s throat and pulls her to her feet and then off the ground. As Sunny chokes and struggles, the thing, it’s not Cirrus she’s sure of that, suspends her over the chasm. The others watch on, laughing maniacally and leering at her.

“Goodbye Sunshine.” The thing releases its hold and Sunny falls into the pit.

No answer.

Sunny jolts up in bed with a gasp. She shakes, a cold sweat drenching her pajamas. She wraps her arms around herself and fights to get her breathing back under control.

“Just a bad dream. Not real, not real.” She murmurs to herself. She takes a few minutes to focus on her breath and manages to calm herself down. She’s no longer on the verge of a panic but there’s no way she’s getting back to sleep anytime soon. At least not here, alone. She gathers up a blanket and her favorite plushie, a lion with a fluffy mane, and pads down the hall. She hesitates for a minute but eventually knocks.

“Huh, what?” Cirrus mutters sleepily.

She carefully eases the door open to find the lights off. No surprises since it's like two in the morning. She quietly shuffles in and climbs into bed as gently as possible.

Unfortunately Cirrus is a light sleeper.

“Hey Cir.” Sunny murmurs.

Cirrus squints in the low light. “Sunny? What’s up? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Had a nightmare.”

“Oh no.” Cirrus’ face softens and she hums sympathetically. “C’mere.”

She holds the covers up to allow Sunny to slip underneath. Sunny gratefully does, curling up next to the air ghoulette. Cirrus doesn’t say much, words of comfort are really more Cumulus’ expertise. Instead she rolls over to face Sunny and gently wraps her arms around her. When Sunny leans into it and begins to purr, she tightens her grip just slightly; a comforting pressure. She wants Sunny to feel safe and protected in her arms.

Cirrus hums softly as Sunny settles in and starts to drift back off. Cirrus stays awake until she’s sure Sunny is asleep. Then she presses a kiss to her brow.

“Goodnight love. Sleep well.”

Cirrus swears Sunny smiles in her sleep.

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #sunshine ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #sunshine/cirrus #cuddles #domestic december 2023 #lys writes

[deathbyvalentine]

The Aftermath

After an indeterminate amount of time, Lydia woke up. She opened her eyes and saw that she was in a pit, trees swaying peacefully above her and the calling of birds echoing distantly. She pushed herself up from the ground and looked down at her body; dress still stained scarlet, her eyes staring up at a sky they could not see, one hand still outstretched and reaching for Peggy. There were other bodies too, some she recognised, some she didn't. It didn't seem as important right now, that distinction. She understood that she was dead, but there was no panic, no fear. She just was. The way her hair was black, the way her eyes were dark, she was dead. After a moment, she begins walking.

The island doesn't seem as frightening now either. The trees don't feel as close, don't seem like their branches were snatching at her, intent on keeping her here. Why would they need to do that now? She'd be here forever. The island had already won. So she brushed aside branches as gently as if they were paper, didn't stumble on any roots. Here and there there were bullets strewn like confetti, a wedding day composed of violence. If she were alive, her ears would still be ringing from the battles of the day. But there were no more gunshots. No more screaming, no more crying, crucially no more shouting. She still didn't quite understand what had happened here, had only a few pieces of a larger jigsaw. But that was okay. She didn't need to. She could just enjoy this faux-peace.

She passes the ruins, the place she had come to hate most on the island. It was the pinnacle of the pointless fighting and the pointless filming and if she wasn't afraid the entire island would go up like a tinder box she would torch the clearing. But as spending eternity on a bare rock didn't sound appealing, it go to survive. She could see the small puddle of blood that was hers, so easily concealed with a shift of a foot. She hadn't wanted to worry anyone. Didn't want to make anyone sad trying to prevent the inevitable. As soon as that bullet had embedded itself inside her, she knew she was going to die here. No point bothering anybody about it. There were bigger issues. But remembering her body makes her look at her hands, not quite substantial. A beat. Then - she moves past the puddle and doesn't linger.

The long winding road to the camp is even more bloody. She steps over strewn arms, pointlessly tries to avoid stepping on clothes and blood to stop her non-existent shoes becoming muddied. It's on this walk that she realises her side doesn't hurt anymore. Neither do the bruises or deep scratches, the overwrought feet or the aching arms. The island took an awful lot from all of them, but at least it took their pain too.

Or at least, she thought so. But then she thought she heard the crackle of radio, the lilt of song and understood that instead she must have gone quite mad. She doesn't stop, regardless, though she applauds whatever part of her brain is teasing her for making the music seem to get louder as she got to the little village that had become a base camp for a war. She lingered outside the hut that had been her trailer. Two dresses still hung up inside. Her suitcase still sat on the veranda. Her southern hands still itched to paint the roof of the porch blue to keep the haints out. She supposed she was one now.

As she stood, looking, convinced she was utterly alone, she realised the song had changed. And it was one she didn't know. How could that be if it was her mind playing tricks? Her unmoving heart skipped a beat she surged forward, stumbling over her feet as she heard a laugh and an unmistakable crowing of -

"A wise guy huh?"

#prose #larp #endings

[therealvinelle]

What if Bella got possessed by a demon in Twilight? Like pretty standard, The Exorcist type of stuff.

A lot of you anons should just head on to Ao3 instead of my inbox because whereever you went with this fic idea, I’m sure it’d be delightful. Lulzy, but an absolute delight.

Since you say Twilight, I’ll just set the timeline to the beginning of the series, when Bella has just arrived in Forks. She got possessed just before leaving, as Renée wanted to try an ouija board.

So, for the purposes of this ask, demons are real within the Twilight universe. They have to be very few and far in between, though, since humans don’t know about them and they presumably don’t care about following the Volturi law.

Bella is Reagan and the demon Pazuzu has taken up residence within her.

As happened in The Exorcist, this isn’t very noticeable at first. Bella starts saying some messed up things, yes, enough so that the other kids at school avoid her and the teachers give Charlie a call, but she’s not running down the stairs like a spider. Charlie is worried about her behavior and calls Renée about this, but he’s not dialing up any priests just yet.

Well, Bella gets worse.

Edward, for the record, was interested in this delicious smelling girl with the mystery box brain up until she started spouting profanities in the hallways at other students. Not being able to read her mind, he assumes Bella Swan is just like that. There’s no challenge, no reward, nothing to keeping her alive, his only real reason for not eating her at this point is Carlisle. Though his sheer distaste at that vulgar human who dares to tempt him so makes him resistent to drinking her blood, just out of spite. She’s not his perfect damsel with the delicious blood, and that ruins a lot of the appeal. Not all, mind, because that blood is still delicious.

Though it does help when she’s pulled out of school. Edward can pretend vulgar hamburger doesn’t exist, even as he ruffles through her wardrobe for sweaters to huff.

Back to Charlie, whose daughter is now running down the stairs like the spider.

He sends her to every shrink he can afford, has all the doctors in Forks look at her, and none of them give him an answer he can believe. He’s at his wit’s end.

And this affliction, whatever it is, that’s affecting Bella, it doesn’t seem natural, not human. She speaks in tongues, sexually assaults herself (yes, this happens in the movie), growls and hisses like an animal, in every way acts like- well, whatever it is, Charlie’s ability to deny that this his daughter’s affliction is supernatural in origin is growing thin.

But none of the shrinks can help him with that, and Charlie is a “lapsed Lutheran”, so I doubt priests is something he’ll consider all that seriously. He needs occult help, yes, but from someone who will actually help Bella.

His mind turns towards Carlisle Cullen and his children, and how Billy reacted when they moved into town.

Charlie laughed off his friends’ fears then, thought it was ridiculous to believe the Cullens could ever be anything but human. He dismissed their unusual looks as just that, unusual looks, their too-good-to-be-true cover story as them being that wonderful, and was quite happy about it.

That was then, now his daughter is fast becoming proof that the occult is indeed real.

And Dr. Cullen is so very kind, excellent in his work as a doctor and above all knowledgeable.

Say that Billy was right, that these guys aren’t as human as they appear. Well, that makes them the only people in the world, in Charlie’s world anyhow, who might be able to help.

Which is how Carlisle has the town chief walk into his office, tell him his daughter is possessed by a demon, and that Carlisle has to come over and have a look at her.

Now, as I think demons would be extremely rare, we’ll allow that Carlisle with all likelihood hasn’t seen any of these before. Quite the contrary, he was once a man who persecuted women suspected of witchcraft. He understands Charlie a little too well, but is also not touching this exorcism quest with a ten-foot pole.

Except, the chief seems convinced that Carlisle himself isn’t entirely human.

What would a human doctor do?

Carlisle really has no choice here but to come with Charlie. Besides, no matter how one looks at it what Charlie said about Bella is highly disturbing, the girl obviously needs medical attention.

So Carlisle has a look at Bella, and his “ahahaha we’re all human in here” smile quickly stiffens as he finds that whatever’s going on with Bella, it is indeed not human. She’s spitting green goo, talking Latin backwards, inhumanly strong, impersonating Carlisle’s father, and depending on how closely we follow Pazuzu’s actions in The Exorcist she may have killed a man. There’s scars on her body spelling out pleas for help.

It becomes clear to Carlisle that this girl really does need an exorcism. Or something, anyway, this is terrifying new territory for him.

But he has neither any clue nor the authority to perform an exorcism, and he lacks the network to get his hands on a human priest who’ll do this. More, even if humans could help (and considering how misinformed they are about vampires, the odds of that are extremely slim), involving more humans than have already been pulled into this would not make the Volturi happy.

There’s really only one place to go where someone will have the resources to help this suffering human, and that’s Volterra.

There’s a risk that demons are like immortal children and Aro will kill her on the spot, but Carlisle, still spooked from father Cullen’s voice coming out of this 17-year-old girl in the 21st century, has no other recourse.

So he tells Charlie he’s taking Bella somewhere Charlie can’t follow, and it’s likely they’ll never see each other again, even if Bella is saved. Charlie is devastated, but the promise that his daughter could get better means he can’t refuse. Just the fact that Carlisle isn’t entirely human yet benign makes him the best help Charlie is able to get her.

Carlisle takes Bella to Volterra, where Aro puts on his best Max von Sydow impression and says “Ah, demons... I’ve seen this once before, in the memories of a merchant from Ur...”

Knowing Aro while not knowing the lore of The Exorcist well enough to know what to do about a demon possession if you don’t have a Catholic priest on hand, I imagine Aro dresses up in whatever it is that Sumerian priests wore thousands of years ago (he always told Caius those bedazzled costumes would come in handy someday, and look who was right! VINDICATION) and tricks Pazuzu into possessing one of the humans Heidi brought in instead. This human is promptly killed. Ta-da, Aro smiles to Carlisle, he solved the problem!

Bella wakes up surrounded by insanely beautiful people in an underground palace in Italy and remembers nothing. Carlisle gets the honor of explaining to this human girl that she was possessed by a demon, Charlie asked Carlisle to fix it, and now the nice man who makes jingling noises whenever he moves because he’s dressed head to toe in gold wants her to be a different kind of demon because he can’t read her mind.

Bella caught maybe half of that.

Carlisle refuses to elaborate on the “possessed by a demon” part. No, Bella, you did nothing embarrassing, no one thought you were weird. We hardly noticed you were possessed at all!

But he was serious about that last part, Aro noticed she has a special ability so he’d like for her to become a vampire.

Bella, still, overwhelmed, makes a phone call to Charlie explaining nothing at all but assuring him that the demon is gone. She is then made a vampire.

Edward arrives too late to the party, so late that the party is in fact over, as he didn’t believe Carlisle when he said hamburger was possessed by a demon. Now it turns out that the disgusting, vulgar girl was in fact a delicate flower and a damsel in distress this whole time. Except, now she’s a vampire. Woe! Theirs is a love that never bloomed.

Bella has no idea who this guy is, and asks Renata to make him go away.

#long post #the exorcist #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #bella swan #charlie swan #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #aro

[appropriatelystupid]

So obviously there’s Supercorp in medieval times AUs

(trust and believe I’ve read and loved every single one they never get old)

But what about a Supercorp at Medieval Times AU…

Lena, is the reigning Queen:

She started working there in high school because she needed an excuse to get out of the house and because she knew Lillian would frown upon such an establishment

(She stayed because the joy of the kids that come through is just too sweet a high)

Lena started as a serving girl, entry level and easy enough, but quickly set her eyes on the prize: The Throne

The Queen at the time, an undeniably irritating woman, Siobhan, makes it almost too easy for Lena to usurp her

Siobhan has multiple reviews from guests for her lackluster performance, as well as numerous complaints from coworkers for being a menace to work with

In the end, Siobhan all but hands Lena everything she needs

Siobhan is late for the start of the dinner show, on a busy Friday

Lena isn’t the one to find her, but, if pressed, she’ll admit to making sure the manager was

The show needs to get started but they absolutely will be having a conversation later about the fact that she was just caught fucking one of the squires in her changing room

(It does not go her way)

Suddenly the Throne is open and there’s another show tomorrow and the manager is scrambling because how will we find a queen in less than a day

And so Lena makes her move; stops by the manager’s office and offers to cover the role until they can find someone permanent; she knows the show from watching it everyday and, best of all, she already fits the current wardrobe

And so her reign begins

Kara, is determined to be a Knight:

She starts about a month after Lena becomes Queen

Her best friend, Winn, a jester who does a pre-show act as people are being seated, gets her an interview to be a stable hand

A lifetime of riding horses makes her more than qualified

Kara is feeding one of the horses the first time she sees Lena, already dressed for the dinner show

(She almost loses a finger in her distraction)

They don’t get a chance to talk for a few days, as far as Kara can tell Lena is pretty aloof and unsociable

It’s two days later when Kara finds Lena grooming one of the horses after a show and she finds out that it’s just been a bad week for Lena

In addition to some personal family stuff, the knights in the show have all, at one time or another, tried to ask her out and a couple really don’t know how to take “no” for an answer

After seeing her work with the horse, Kara tells her she’s always welcome in the stables with her

She wields her broom like a sword, promises to protect her from any and all unsavory knights, and finishes with a deep bow in hopes of making her crack a smile

She gets a deep belly laugh, head thrown back and cheeks dusted pink, and a smile that almost blinds her instead

She feels her heart trip over itself in her chest and knows she must become a knight so she can at least pretend to fight for the love of this incredible woman

A few months into working there, Lena catches her practicing with a sword between shows

A few too many call outs meant someone was needed to polish the gear and Kara got distracted™️

Lena just picks up a sword of her own, with an elaborate flourish, and they spend half of their lunch break having a duel

Both are very impressed by the others swordsmanship and also very turned on by the whole thing

They both keep that bit to themselves

Lena starts plotting her next show shake up

A few months later, there’s drama™️ in the arena during the knights practice jousts, which is to say, Morgan is in a huff because Lena turned him down, again, and Maxwell can’t help but taunt him by bragging that she’ll “totally say yes" to him when he asks again

Mike and James try to calm them both down but Morgan’s horse gets spooked and throws him off

He doesn’t break anything but the way he’s whimpering you’d think he did; either way he can’t perform that night

Before the manager can start to panic, Lena suggests Kara take Morgan’s spot for the night

He’s hesitant about putting a female in the role but his options are limited with their back up on vacation

Kara is shocked that Lena suggests her but quickly jumps to her own defense

It’s already known she’s great on a horse, and her time working with them (and in the gym) mean that Morgan’s gear will work well enough for her to be comfortable and still in control

It’s too close to the doors opening for anything else so Kara dons the armor (and if she can’t stop smiling well then that’s just too bad for everyone else because she’s ecstatic)

As they gather to determine the winner for that night’s show, Lena looks almost as excited for her as Kara is

The Queen and her four Knights gather around and Lena blindly draws a beanbag from the dark box in front of them: Red will be winning tonight

She replaces the bag and mixes them up a bit before the knights all draw their own

Kara draws blue; Lena thinks it’s fitting for her first show, considering how bright her blue eyes are shining in excitement, even if it means she’ll be coming in second that night

Mike gets red and all Lena can think is at least it’s not Maxwell again

The show goes better than most have in weeks

Kara’s joy is palpable and the Blue section is, at times, deafening

Even though she comes in second, when Kara removes her helmet and reveals herself to the crowd, the entire arena erupts

Lena, from her place on the throne, can see little kids all over the crowd in awe of her

(Shortly after Lena had become Queen, she had suggested adding a sort of meet and greet after the shows, a chance for the younger kids to meet their heroes of the night

As is her own custom, Lena is with the winning Knight, seeing as they had just fought for her hand, after all)

Most nights the knights are greeted by kids from their own section, but tonight, from where Lena is standing with Mike, she can see kids in crowns from all the sections eager to meet Kara

Kara, absolutely cannot stop beaming and is told more than a few times that she needs to make her interactions quicker

(She does not go quicker)

When she finally does get through all the guests waiting for her, the manager offers Kara the role permanently

Morgan had quit when he heard Kara was replacing him and there’s no denying the popularity of her as a knight

It feels like an eternity (it’s been two weeks) before Kara finally draws the winning color for the night: Green

She thinks it’s fitting, just like Lena’s eyes as it were

Lena, for her part tries desperately to not show how excited she is that Kara will finally be her winning Knight

The show goes exactly as it always does, everything running without a hitch, but Kara can’t help but be a nervous wreck as they get to the end

She has the flower crown in hand, she knows what comes next but she can’t help but feel jittery in her saddle

She knows she needs to trot past her section in victory

She knows she needs to ride to Lena in the Royal Box

She knows she needs to place the flowers on her head and crown her the “Queen of Love and Beauty”

She knows Lena thanks her winning Knight with a kiss on the cheek

She knows all of this but she didn’t know ya know

She finds she’s distinctly unprepared for Lena’s face to be anywhere near her face

All Kara can do as she approaches Lena is hope desperately that she doesn’t look as nervous about a kiss on the cheek as she feels

(Alex never let’s her live it down after she hears the story)

Kara stops her horse next to the Royal Box as Lena rises to greet her

She’s sure it’s a trick of the lights that showed a flash of nerves across Lena’s face as well

Kara can feel her hands shaking as she places the crown on Lena’s head; she’s shocked her horse hasn’t picked up on her nerves as well

It’s only when Lena’s lips finally make contact with her cheek, close enough to the corner of her mouth to be felt, that Kara realizes she hasn’t been breathing

Kara sees the nerves clearly now, as Lena straightens back up to finish the show, so she does the only thing she can think to do in front of a packed arena

She catches Lena’s hand off the railing that separates them and plants her lips firmly to the back of it, blue eyes locked on Lena’s own green

The smiles they send each other would outshine the sun if given the chance before Lena shakes herself out of her daze to finally actually finish the show

After the show, after greeting the guests with their hands as good as glued together, they finally get back to their shared changing room

(An unexpected blessing and curse once there were two females needing a place to change for the shows)

Lena is barely in the door before she’s very much pinned against it by her very happy and very beautiful knight

They don’t outright tell anyone about the shift between them

James is the first to realize that when Kara wins, the kisses get closer and closer to real; he catches them both after a show and gives them a quick “congrats” and a wink before heading to change

Mike doesn’t clock onto the difference for when Kara wins but when he eventually finds out they’re dating he gives them a “right on” and high fives them both

Maxwell doesn’t notice anything because he doesn’t pay attention to parts of the show that don’t involve him; they very pointedly tell him absolutely nothing about themselves

If this was a real story and not me stream-of-consciousness-ing then Nia and Brainy would work at the gift shop

Also this is how I pictured Lena for the entirety of this:

#that dress will be the death of me someday #if there is a ‘sc work at medieval times au’ pls point me in its direction #this was supposed to be shorter whoops #why work on my wip when i can word vomit this instead #my feelings on medieval times vary week to week but i'm moving closer to one and found myself unable to think about anything else #supercorp #supercorp au #medieval supercorp #sorta #lena luthor #kara danvers

[miraculouscontent]

*rubs hands together*

The first thing to talk about with this episode is the pacing, and I think this might contribute to why people think it’s the best/least bad of Season 4 (personally, I’d rather watch “Furious Fu” but that’s just me; also, this isn’t the only contributing factor as to why I think people might feel this way, but I’ll get there later).

The episode has a very serious pacing issue, particularly with its more intense scenes. There’s only one minute of time dedicated to Ladybug landing on her bed, de-transforming, and her snapping at her friends plus them leaving. More time was spent on Chat Noir and Ladybug in the movie theater and Ladybug storming out.

I particularly remember watching the episode and getting eighteen minutes in, at which point I had the realization of, “It feels like nothing’s happened?”

This episode is supposed to be a big gut punch, but the season has been going by at the speed of sound, like they’re trying desperately to play all their cards at once (Lukanette break-up, Adrimi break-up, then Alya is told Marinette’s secret identity). Instead of letting things build and play out for a while in the interest of suspense, the show just throws whatever will get a big reaction out of the fandom (whether positive or negative) and it doesn’t care how shoddily put together everything is. The first two episodes feel like hastily put together drafts, and while this one is technically more put together, it still feels like a draft.

Let’s just start with Chat Noir, who feels completely out of place in the episode. Not only does he imply that he intentionally calls Ladybug “Bugaboo” (which she has told him to stop doing) in order to get a reaction out of her, but when Ladybug insists that she doesn’t want to talk, he tricks her into thinking that he has a good location to do so (and my heart breaks a little at how readily she trusts him) only to then take her to a romantic movie, then shush her when she calls him out for it because she “said she didn’t want to talk.”

Gee, and people wonder why she didn’t tell him her secret (even outside of “Chat Blanc” existing)?

And... look, I know it’s a joke, but I do not find it funny. The “joke” is basically that Chat Noir is taking advantage of the situation to flirt with Ladybug, and though I find it at least mildly cathartic that Ladybug is unaffected by all the people staring at them while Chat Noir is embarrassed, this episode is coming right after the one where Kagami broke up with Adrien, and here Chat Noir is getting his flirt game on. I already talked about all my problems with “Lies” so I won’t do it again, but I’ll just say that it’s not a mystery why Ladybug doesn’t want to talk to him and would rather avoid her problems.

(Not to mention that Ladybug knows that Chat Noir likes her, so talking about her romantic problems with him is awkward to say the least and would come off as insensitive.)

Honestly, at this point I feel like they must be building to something with Chat, like Ladybug finally going off of him with no mercy and that forces him to give up/fall out of love for her because reverse love square, but if that’s what they intend to go for, then that means Marinette is going to fall for this guy who’s repeatedly disrespected her feelings for multiple seasons, almost abandoned her and let Paris drown because she wouldn’t tell him a secret that wasn’t hers to tell, and just generally all the other things he did????

Ugh, I don’t wanna think about it. Let’s just move on.

Talking about Ladybug and her rant next, it basically summarizes the whole show in a nutshell, but simultaneously casts a shadow of sorts over “Truth” for people who maybe missed the episode entirely (which is also sort of the show in a nutshell). I mean, Ladybug confirming to the audience that she was genuinely in love and happy with Luka (you can’t watch how depressed she was over the break-up and not think that) was great, but Ladybug’s dialog implies that Luka “hated secrets” and that’s why they broke up, when Luka was more just... hurt that she couldn’t be honest with him, and he didn’t actively hate secrets. Marinette broke up with him because she felt like she had to; because she had to keep ditching and lie to him.

In addition, what she says also hints to the audience that they’ve both held and kissed each other, which not only indicates cowardice on the part of the staff (”yeah this happened but--um--off-screen; we’d still like credit tho plz”), but may perhaps go back to the theory I had about how Adrimi and Lukanette were supposed to last longer in Season 4 but their arcs got cut (based on the Adrimi kiss having supposed to have gone off). This could mean that Ladybug’s statement was originally accurate to canon but the scenes got cut and the scriptwriters just awkwardly left it in, which is made more awkward by the cinema scene in “Truth” that felt like Luka and Marinette were kissing for the first time (again, alluding to the whole, “this entire season has been a draft” thing).

Also, if you think about what that actually means - that Luka and Marinette did have successful dates and kisses but they were off-screen - then all it adds up to is that showing Marinette happy and comfortable was something that the series didn’t deem as “interesting/fun enough” to show, because Marinette being happy isn’t something they want to see; only watching her be miserable, which is exactly what Ladybug says, along with how everything was “almost too simple, too easy,” because Marinette isn’t allowed to have nice things without being jammed through the wringer first.

And... sure, let’s say that Chat Noir thought the movie was genuinely a good idea; let’s assume that it could be a joke, him wanting to flirt, and him believing that it’d make her feel better somehow.

If that’s the case, then where’s the apology when it fails miserably? Ladybug goes from her semi-anxious state at the start of the episode (a little scatterbrained but ultimately just looking for a distraction), to outright enraged by the movie, and then to this upon leaving the cinema.

She just got her heart broken from being forced to break up with a boy she genuinely wanted to be with and there’s not a single, “Okay, maybe coming here was a bad idea, I’m sorry,” (which could’ve been seen as another joke with the audience like “lol no duh Chat Noir” so there’s no excuse not to have it) or, “My bad, that was insensitive of me. I really thought this would’ve helped but I wasn’t thinking about what you would’ve wanted.”

No. The only people Chat apologizes to are the other people at the theater because he’s embarrassed by Ladybug’s reactions, yet he himself feels no remorse for taking her there and has the gall to go on now about how he’s “there for her if she wants to talk.”

Again, it’s no wonder Ladybug doesn’t want to open up to him.

And I’m sorry, I just don’t buy that Marinette suddenly has all this free time. It’s one thing for her to have a little more time now that she’s broken up with her boyfriend (likely avoiding spending time with him altogether now), but “Truth” went out of its way to talk about all of the emergencies she had to deal with and how she doesn’t have any spare time. which is causing her to become forgetful and lose track of certain events (patrols with Chat, dates with Luka, etcetera), yet Marinette spends most of “Gang of Secrets” simply sulking on her bed. It’s so jarring to go from “Truth” where she was doing “too much” (which I called them out on for not describing what the “too much” she was doing was) and now “Gang of Secrets” where she’s not doing anything.

It’s almost like they invented that plot point to break Lukanette up and it served no purpose outside of it.

Furthermore, the scenes of her finally talking to Tikki and then deciding to live as Ladybug does nothing outside of making the plot more predictable, the latter because of the “Alya almost sees Ladybug” moment (an obvious indicator that Marinette is losing control and is struggling to maintain her secret identity due to her emotionally breaking down) and the former because of Tikki herself and what she doesn’t say.

Because, really, think about what actually goes on in the scene. Marinette (eyes rimmed red and filled with unshed tears, as she is for a good chunk of the episode) is venting to Tikki about - yes - her love life, but also that she has to lie to everyone in order to keep her identity a secret. The fact that Tikki focuses solely on the note of Marinette’s love life and not say a word about the identity/lying issue or even consider telling Marinette, “hey, this is clearly too much for you, you should tell someone, I think the benefits outweigh the risks right now,” really proves that the episode tried to avoid the topic altogether to try and make the ending more shocking (which ironically made it more predictable).

So yeah, not only does Tikki’s dialog with Marinette provide nothing except for a line about how she can’t help Marinette with love issues due to kwami not falling in love (alright, I guess aros can’t give good love advice then or have any input whatsoever), but Marinette’s line about lying to everyone being why she can’t pursue Adrien nor Luka is repeated in the very last scene of the episode. The only reason that scene and the scene after exist is because the writers needed Marinette to be emotionally devastated enough to leave for her balcony as Ladybug for the almost-reveal to Alya and so Rose would get close enough to the dollhouse to have an almost-reveal with the Miracle Box, making the scene feel further contrived because the emotional punch of Marinette wanting to live as Ladybug lasts for barely any time at all.

And it could’ve served a purpose, like if Ladybug had genuinely left and Alya finds her goggles and towel, recognizing them from a news story about how Ladybug had gone to the swimming pool after losing her temper at the cinema, which could’ve led to Shadow Moth making the girls believe that Ladybug was no longer heroic and had kidnapped Marinette, or... heck, Ladybug coming back inside would’ve been so much less jarring if she came back because she heard the girls’ voices talking about the dollhouse and had to hurry (but of course, then they’d have to point out the ridiculousness of Ladybug not hearing Alya calling her and the girls not hearing Ladybug literally shouting for Shadow Moth to come fight her, even though the kwami heard the girls calling for Marinette from the balcony).

But instead, the entire scene feels off and unnatural, forcing every part of it in order to get to where Marinette has to snap at the girls to make them leave.

(Oh, by the way, just a little detail to add to the annoyance: they bothered putting Tom and Sabine in the episode when the girls are leaving, clearly saddened by something that happened, and neither parent even bothers to go and check on Marinette to see if she’s upset or just to see what might’ve happened. They’re such a “blink-and-you’ll-miss it” moment in the episode and it’s not like I’m surprised because they’ve done this multiple times by now but really?)

As for the girls themselves... oof, where do I even begin?

Alright, first off is the annoyance that they assume Marinette’s problems relate only to lovesickness. Marinette has been an anxiety-prone mess throughout the entire series, and suddenly now the girls care about Marinette’s love problems on an emotional level rather than “we’ll meddle sometimes unless we don’t feel like it and be wholly inconsistent on how much we push for it.”? It’s not that I don’t see how they came to the conclusion (hearing that Luka and Marinette broke up and now seeing Marinette is depressed, it checks out), but considering they bothered noting that Marinette hadn’t told them anything, one would think they’d come to the conclusion of, “okay, we haven’t talked to her, we have no idea of what’s going on, maybe we don’t know her as well as we thought then and shouldn’t make guesses.”

Secondly is the “eternal friendship bracelet,” which comes off as a copy of the “Secrets” game from “Syren” extremely manipulative. Mylene goes on to explain that one is supposed to give a secret to the pearl “mentally,” yet when the girls actually show up to see Marinette, they expect to be told the secret directly. I’ve already talked at length about peer pressure and the mental stress Marinette goes through when they mock her and/or meddle for her, but this idea of, “well we all used this friendship bracelet after we mutually agreed to it so now it’s your turn because we said so!” just comes off really bad. I know the episode is going for this idea that their hearts are in the right place, but they’re really not. It feels like they’re the ones in denial and are trying to compensate by forcing Marinette to prove that they’re friends, unable to handle the idea that they might not be as close to her as they thought.

Thirdly, the show acts as if the girl squad are her only friends when we know that’s not true because we’ve seen episodes like “Befana” (the guys in the class), “Reverser” (Marc), “Ikari Gozen” (Kagami), and “Silencer” (Ivan) that all established Marinette having more friends than just them, but for the sake of “drama” and the depressing line of, “at least I don’t have any more friends to lie to,” the episode just pretends like Marinette’s friends are limited to Luka (who she had to break up with) and the girl squad (who she forced to leave and refuse the friendship of).

Fourthly is the actual set-up and the sheer grossness of it all. The girls call Marinette and leave a message about how they much they love her and how she can talk to them “where and when” she wants, and then - immediately afterwards - decide that they’re going to go straight to Marinette’s house completely unannounced, go into her room completely unannounced (not even knocking, by the way), and when Marinette begs them to leave, Alya basically tells her that she’s overreacting. When Marinette demands that they leave, Alya refuses and makes demands right back that they won’t leave until she tells them what’s wrong.

So much for “where and when” she wanted, right? It’s already one thing for the girls to invade Marinette’s privacy and demand/guilt-trip answers out of her, but it’s another thing to give the illusion of respecting her feelings and personal space only to actively plan to go back on it. I can’t tell if it’s a bad draft that they didn’t catch in quality check (you know, the quality check that they definitely don’t have) or just an intentional way to make them seem more sympathetic so Marinette looks worse for driving them out, but either way, it’s awful and I hate it. I would’ve rather had them be all in on invading Marinette’s privacy and learn a lesson in the end than outright contradict themselves.

There are also little nitpicks I could make (like Juleka’s constant mumbling despite Luka’s crush on Marinette playing a role in the episode, Horrificator getting sidelined due to being mute, and the girls’ akumatization ultimately being for spectacle and nothing else, serving no purpose to the plot and being furthered by the fact that Timebreaker goes after Marinette despite it being a bad idea and Reflekta’s power clearly not lining up with any sort of plan), but the real issue issue here comes down to the fact that these are Marinette’s so-called “friends” and the episode refuses to address their actual issues.

Alix, who is known for making rude comments at Marinette (”Gigantitan,” “Chat Blanc,” “Miraculous New York”) and then gives mixed messages by going along with meddling anyway.

Mylene, who is the closest thing to a background character in the girl squad but nevertheless finds her way into being definite voice against Marinette in “Chameleon.”

Juleka, who blamed Marinette for things she didn’t do in “Reflekdoll” and got huffy with her until Marinette apologized for said things.

Rose, who outright screamed at Marinette in “Chat Blanc” over a freaking stuffed animal, which pressured Marinette enough that she snuck into Adrien’s room to deliver her gift which nearly led to the end of the world.

And, of course, Alya; freaking Alya. I don’t even have to go into every single thing she’s ever done because I have a history of giving her absolutely no mercy.

...But let’s go through some anyway because I want to.

“Copycat” - Alya gives Marinette a script and tells her to memorize it, then immediately pushes the “call” button when Marinette hesitates after Marinette had just told Alya that she’s awful at improv.

“Darkblade” - Alya takes a jab at Marinette when Marinette says that she’s too busy to be class representative, implying that Alya thinks that Marinette does absolutely nothing with her time.

“Gamer” - Alya is busy recording the gaming competition when she and Marinette were supposed to be researching for a term paper. Alya then scolds Marinette for wanting to use the competition to get close to Adrien only to do a 180 and put up a fight about it when Marinette decides to quit.

“Animan” and how “The Puppeteer 2″ follows up on it - oh, I’m not going to touch that particular point right now, but keep those in the back of your mind, because I am going to absolutely go off later

“Simon Says” - Similarly to Marinette’s parents, Alya gives zero damns about whatever might be going on in Marinette’s life that's causing her to miss classes.

"Despair Bear” - Alya laughs at Marinette being forced to kiss Chloe’s cheek and then outright compares Marinette to Chloe after knocking Chloe multiple times during the episode (sure, just compare your “best friend” to her multi-year bully, how "hilarious” of you).

“Gigantitan” - Alya has no qualms about mocking Marinette’s over her failures, even if it embarrasses her and she’s been through enough already.

“Frozer” - Alya tries to find ways for Marinette to prevent herself from third-wheeling for Adrien, but when Marinette tries to show character growth by wanting to go, Alya gets into a shouting match with the other girls over how Marinette has “liked Adrien forever and isn’t going to give up now”.

“Catalyst” - Alya claims that Marinette is only salty over Lila out of jealousy when “Frozer” exists and literally is the prime evidence of Adrien liking another girl and Marinette telling Alya outright and very genuinely that she’s not jealous.

“Chameleon” - Alya doesn’t care about her best friend sitting in the back by herself while Alya herself get to sit next to her boyfriend and everyone else in general gets to sit where they want (Alya even acting confused at the mere suggestion that she’d tried to engineer things to let Marinette sit next to Adrien), then not only believes Lila over Marinette but contradicts herself twice (asking Marinette for proof when she has none herself, then claiming that she wouldn’t let her best friend sit by herself).

“Christmaster” - Alya leaves Marinette to babysit so she and Nino can go out on a date.

“Desperada” - Alya suddenly is for Lukanette for literally one episode and doesn’t know how/doesn’t even try to cover for Marinette’s Adrien blindness despite mocking her for multiple seasons over it.

“Reflekdoll” - Alya invites Adrien to something that’s crucial for Marinette to focus on after Marinette has already told her not to and continues meddling to the point where it gets Juleka akumatized (she also doesn’t get punished for it and the blame gets thrown onto Marinette).

“The Puppeteer 2″ - Alya pushes her luck with Nathalie to try and get Marinette to come with her, Nino, Adrien, and Manon to the museum, then traps Marinette in a room with Adrien to force her to spent alone time with him, even abandoning and forgetting about the child that she offered to watch for Marinette so she and her boyfriend can go off alone.

“Miraculous New York” - Alya is told directly by Marinette that she needs help seeing Adrien as a friend, which leads Alya to do the exact opposite throughout the entire special, at one point shouting at Marinette and pressuring her to chase after a car, in the rain, while there’s a supervillain rampaging through Paris, and all of this right after the scheme that Alya had set up caused both Marinette and Adrien to go missing.

And just saying, as Marinette’s supposed “best friend,” Alya sure doesn’t know how to handle her. It was acceptable back in “The Bubbler” when she asked Marinette about signing the gift too late and the same goes for “Dark Cupid,” but by the time we get to late Season 2/3 and Alya refuses to learn Marinette’s weak spots (unless it’s to mock her) and adjust accordingly (like if she’d already made sure the gift was signed in “Chat Blanc,” which would’ve prevented Adrien seeing Ladybug at all due to the time difference), it starts getting infuriating.

A best friend is supposed to cover for their friend’s weaknesses. Alya doesn’t do that; she meddles and often drives Marinette’s anxiety even further up a wall with absolutely no consideration for Marinette’s feelings (”Dark Cupid,” “The Puppeteer 2,” “Reflekdoll,” “Miraculous New York”).

And here, she and the other girls are rewarded for it. Luka actively resisted his akumatization whereas the girls gave in immediately, yet Marinette still opens up to them in the end, likely because they had pressured her and made her feel bad for the secrets she was keeping while Luka was willing to actually wait for her to be ready to talk to him. I can’t put into words how frustrating it is watching these girls trample all over Marinette’s feelings, not have their worst actions called out, and then jump cut post-deakumatization to Marinette telling them exactly what they wanted to know about her love life.

You know what this entire episode is really missing, outside of a coherent plot, properly-paced development, and a basic understanding of rewarding a character for things they’ve held firmly to?

It’s missing the apology. Chat Noir apologizes to a bunch of moviegoers and Rose apologizes for the broken dollhouse, but no one apologizes to Marinette for how they treated her, especially not the “friends” who got rewarded in the end.

“Sorry, we shouldn’t have told you that we’d respect your feelings and then showed up unannounced to make you talk about them.”

“We’re sorry we came into your room and invaded your privacy. You were right to be mad at us.”

“Oh my gosh, Marinette, we got akumatized and we’re so sorry for literally all five of us going after you and probably scaring the living daylights out of you.”

And as if that wasn’t enough, guess what else this is missing? It’s kind of important and brought up directly in the episode, yet the episode simultaneously goes out of its way not to bring it up again.

It’s the reason why Marinette didn’t tell the girls about her relationship with Luka. It’s not there - it’s missing - and the girls never try to pursue the subject. They talk about how Marinette didn’t tell them but don’t think for a second that maybe it’s them who have failed as friends. Instead, they don’t guess anything about why Marinette wouldn’t tell them (which is already strange considering how much they already assume about her) and jump straight to, “well clearly we just need to push for her to talk to us.”

Gonna just go out on a limb here and say that maybe - just maybe - Marinette didn’t tell them because they are habitually pushy in everything they do.

Because they would’ve teased her relentlessly about, “ohhhh you’ve got eyes for Luka? what about Aaaaaadrien~? aren’t you sooo tooorn between both of these cute guys?”

Because they would’ve meddled to force her and Luka together and gotten on her case when/if she ever had to bail on him.

Because their intrusion on her feelings for Adrien had caused her nothing but problems and she just wanted to be with Luka in peace without them forcing their way into things.

Because--hey, wild thought--maybe they’re not really friends???

But the episode completely avoids it, because that would’ve meant addressing it; it would’ve meant acknowledging that they messed up, which - fun fact - they actually don’t do in the episode.

They invaded Marinette’s privacy, insisted that she tell them how she feels (not about them of course because that would imply that they felt like they screwed up), and in the end it’s Marinette who gives them exactly what they asked of her, and the closest thing we get to acknowledging anything is Alix telling her/joking with her that they’ll help her confess to whoever she likes as soon as she tells them she’s ready.

That’s not an apology. That’s not an acknowledgment of wrongdoing. Even when the five of them are about to get akumatized, it’s not a circle of them saying, “here’s how I screwed up, I could’ve done better but I didn’t and I lost Marinette because of it.”

No. It’s just them talking about how sad the situation is. Mylene has the closest thing to remorse in saying, “I hoped it would work,” but where does it go? A grand total of nowhere, especially because Marinette still takes the bracelet in the end instead of the girls mutually deciding, “okay, maybe the bracelet was a bad idea; how about we all agree on making something together instead, no requirements attached?”

And then the episode has the gall to act as if Alya has gone through character growth when all they did was put Alya through the same thing that Chloe did. I’ll explain that last bit momentarily, but first let’s talk about the whole “growth” thing.

Because there’s no apology or acknowledgement of wrongdoing, all Alya does when she’s finally alone with Marinette is do a 180 from where she was at the start of the episode, going from, “friends have to tell each other everything,” to, “hey, if you don’t want to tell me, then that’s your right.”

The crucial part that’s supposed to go in the middle is missing. Instead of acknowledging her failures, Alya just cuts straight to “””being a better friend,”““ but storytelling doesn’t work that way.

It literally would have taken zero effort to fit an acknowledgement into that scene. “You don’t have to tell me everything, I get that now. All my meddling’s done is hurt you and I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me.”

In a world where Marinette has to apologize for everything, has to learn lessons and suffer because the narrative says so, I will not accept anything less from other characters who are trying to develop and improve. That’s not fair to Marinette, nor has it ever been.

Instead of properly developing Alya, the show does whatever it can to get its audience to root for her as Marinette’s “best friend” (ugh) without having to put in the effort of admitting that Alya hasn’t been Marinette’s “best” friend.

Remember when I brought up Chloe? Yeah, “Malediktator” did a similar thing, showing Chloe doing something awful, then being sad (while not actually acknowledging the thing she did wrong), and in the end she was rewarded with a miraculous prematurely.

One show of character from Chloe and Marinette gave her a miraculous. One show of character from Alya and Marinette told her that she was Ladybug.

(Also, for the record, I think Chloe is far worse than Alya character-wise and I’m not comparing their characters; this is just the simplest comparison I can draw here from a narrative standpoint.)

“Miraculer” is another apt comparison, perhaps even more so. Chloe got Hawk Moth in her head after an akuma landed in her photo of her and Ladybug, but Chloe resisted and fought back, ultimately forcing the akuma out of her and freeing herself from Hawk Moth’s control.

But it wasn’t to develop her character; no, it was to convince the audience of Chloe and Sabrina’s friendship so they’d feel something during Sabrina’s happy flashbacks, then lay the foundation of tricking viewers into believing that Chloe might not go to Hawk Moth’s side.

At the end of the day, it was doing something that’s “never been done before” in order for the character to earn brownie points for something that the writers can just have them do because willpower is an easy thing to just write in. “Gang of Secrets” does the exact same thing when Lady Wifi breaks free from Shadow Moth, with Ladybug even hammering it home by talking about how no one’s ever done it before.

And the pacing is - again - awful. Not only is Ladybug banking on this working when she herself says that it’s never been done, but the conversation between her and Lady Wifi where Ladybug tries to convince her doesn’t even take a minute.

It also has nothing to do with Marinette herself; Ladybug relies on Alya’s adoration/friendship with her as Ladybug (you know, after Alya took a photo of LadyNoir kissing and posted it online without Ladybug’s consent, betrayed her by putting information on the LadyBlog that Hawk Moth was able to take advantage of, and is the only hero outside of Chloe to resist returning a miraculous) in order to break from Hawk Moth’s control, because talking about Marinette with Lady Wifi didn’t even work.

(Ladybug also uses her yoyo as a portal to the Miracle Box when this has never been pre-established to be a thing despite Ladybug acting as if she knew it was; further proof that this episode was rushed.)

And of course talking about Marinette didn’t work, because that would’ve meant convincing Alya that her reason for getting akumatized was “wrong” and the episode didn’t want to do that. It didn’t want someone else actually learning something and feeling bad; surely, this is just Alya being manipulated by Shadow Moth and having the power to break free because Ladybug “needs Rena Rouge” and not because Lady Wifi and her friends are chasing after their supposed best friend and that’s--you know--wrong???

Rena Rouge’s reappearance is also yet another thing the episode refuses to address because it avoids the topic of “but my identity--”. At least “Heart Hunter” had the tact to have Kagami question why Ladybug was giving her the dragon again, but “Gang of Secrets” treads as lightly as possible on any discussion of identities outside of Marinette saying that she can’t, as if it were Marinette who made the choice of concealing her identity and not the basic idea of heroing that has been stressed over and over for the whole show.

Even Plagg of all kwami stated back in “Origins” that no one is supposed to know about secret identities, a rule that continues becoming flaky and muddled with each passing season, almost like they kept attempting to retcon and make the audience dulled to the idea so that the reveal in “Gang of Secrets” would be more acceptable.

But now, with the way they did it and how they don’t even have Tikki comment on the matter, it once again has it look like they’re making it - say it with me, everyone - Marinette’s fault.

Alya says that Marinette has a choice in telling her secret, Marinette insists that she doesn’t and goes on and on about how it’ll change everything, and then just... tells Alya her secret in the end.

And remember all the way back in Season 2? “Sapotis”?

Alya: What were you saying about her secret identity?

Marinette: Ladybug needs it to protect her family and friends. Otherwise the villains could use them to get to her.

Alya: Well, if I knew who Ladybug really was, I'd keep it a secret. I would even help her! Like say, if you were Ladybug, I'd cover for you — when you needed to transform in school, go fight the "baddies", you know?

Marinette: Oh yeah? Well, if I was Ladybug I wouldn't even tell you, to protect you from the "baddies", you know?

Alya: You serious? If I was Ladybug, I'd totally tell you! Because I tell my best friend everything.

And now here we are in “Gang of Secrets,” as if the narrative is saying, “See, Marinette? Alya was right all along, you were just being ridiculous and making yourself suffer for no reason!”

Yet Marinette had a right to keep her secrets. When Alya and Nino learned each other’s identities, Alya took a hit for Nino in “Catalyst” and both of them fell to Scarlet Moth’s akumas. Chloe was a mess and a half because of Hawk Moth knowing her identity. Fu had told Marinette that her miraculous would get taken if she and Chat Noir learned each other’s identities.

The only ones who received no consequences due to someone knowing their identity were Pegase (who Chat Noir and Markov knew), Ryuko (who Chat Noir, Ikari Gozen, and Hawk Moth knew), and Viperion (who Adrien knew). “Chat Blanc” also exists where Marinette got the impression that people discovering her identity would be a disaster, and even all the way back in “Lady Wifi” insisted that not telling anyone her identity was “listening to her head and not her heart,” and the narrative has relentlessly humiliated her for going with her heart, so yeah, probably for the best.

I hate that the episode avoids talking about anything identity-related outside of what comes out of Marinette’s mouth to make it appear like it was her choice all along. I hate that they had Tikki fixate on Marinette’s love problems instead of having her actually support Marinette and admit that Marinette should tell someone before she has a mental breakdown. I hate that the episode inserts Rena Rouge into the plot as if to brush all identity issues away so as to make Marinette’s identity reveal seem less jarring.

Now, of course I’m glad Marinette told someone. Of course I want her to get love and support from someone. Of course I think the benefits outweigh the risks, or I wouldn’t have written multiple fix-its where her identity gets revealed in some way or someone already knows.

But I didn’t want it to be Alya, because I knew how they’d do it. I knew they’d do it wrong and I knew that they wouldn’t have the courage to address Alya’s issues properly.

Those familiar with my blog will know that I’d been taking negative predictions for future seasons for a while and adding them to cards whenever they were proven right. Does anyone remember the Season 4 predictions that were proven correct for “Gang of Secrets,” specifically these ones?

- “Alya will suddenly be portrayed as a good/worthy friend to Marinette in/if there's an episode where Marinette tells her that she's Ladybug”

- “Alya resisting Shadow Moth/fighting back against him will be used to excuse telling Alya Marinette's secret identity“

- “Alya will know that Marinette is Ladybug first because "BFFs" despite being one of the worst candidates for it“

- “The secret that broke Lukanette up will be resolved in episode 3 when Marinette tells Alya“

Each and every one of those were mine, because I knew that whether Season 4 had a proper chronological order or not, the writers would not have the guts to develop Alya first and then have Marinette tell her in a future episode after Alya has properly earned it.

I knew that they wouldn’t take time to develop Alya. I knew that they would have Alya resist Shadow Moth to make Alya look “worthy” of the secret. I knew that Alya would swoop in during the last minute and a half of an episode, insisting that Marinette “didn’t have to tell her anything” when Alya had been pushy and insistent for the entire rest of the episode and the whole series in general, and would ultimately be rewarded with the big secret simply because she’s “the best friend” and that’s it.

The Alya at the end of the episode isn’t the Alya I’ve known for the entire rest of the series before this, or at the very least they turned her into an Alya I don’t recognize.

Alya claims during the ending scene that she knows that Marinette is hiding something beyond her love problems because she - as a reporter and “her best friend” - can sense such things, and all I’m left wondering is

w h e r e ?

Where and when has Alya been suspicious or worried about Marinette keeping a secret from her? What, back in “The Pharoah” where she didn’t immediately disregard Marinette for the role of Ladybug, or “Simon Says” where she vaguely teased Marinette about having a double life, both Season 1 episodes?

Where was Alya in “Truth” saying that she didn’t know Marinette’s secret but knew that she was keeping one? Where was Alya anywhere in Season 3 being concerned that Marinette hasn’t told her something? Where was this “supposedly very observant” Alya when Marinette needed her to out Lila because Lila got her expelled--oh wait, Alya “observed” that Lila did nothing and Marinette was just jealous.

What, is it only now that Alya suddenly “knows” that Marinette is hiding something else? Now, after Alya has already not known that Marinette was literally dating someone, even when Alya had multiples pictures of Marinette and said someone giving each other heart eyes and saw Marinette leaving school with said someone riding on the same bike together, you know, like normal, typical, average friends would?

Where’s the line where Alya acknowledges the problem? Where’s Alya sitting down with Marinette and admitting, “hey, I’m sorry I haven’t noticed this stuff, but I promise I’ll do better starting right now, and that’s how I know now that you’re hiding something else, and I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that it’s been hurting you”?

I can’t tell you where it is, but I can say that it’s certainly not in this episode. 60% of the episode features the Alya we knew from the rest of the series and then switches her out the second she’s de-akumatized for another Alya who hasn’t done anything that the old one has because she pretends like it didn’t happen.

You know how I know? Because of this absolute gut punch of a line that showed that the series wanted to handwave everything away.

“I know how to keep a secret.”

...Really? Does she now? Well, I hope everyone remembered my point about “Animan” and “The Puppeteer 2,” because I’m bringing it right back.

Considering that “Truth” has been burned into all of our memories, we all definitely remember when Truth shoots Alya and questions her on Marinette’s secret, to which Alya states that Marinette’s secret is, “She’s in love with Adrien Agreste.” Now, at the time of Season 4′s airing, this is very much not a secret, as most characters already knew about Marinette’s crush, to the point where it’d been broadcast on television during Season 2.

But do you know when it was actually a secret? Back in Season 1, specifically in the episode “Animan” where Alya told Nino.

And not only did she tell Nino, but she lied to Marinette by claiming that she didn’t, acting as if Nino knew that Marinette had a crush but didn’t know who she was crushing on, which is then directly proven false as Nino accidentally implies that he does know who it is. This is also after Alya had gotten on Marinette’s case for trying to set her up with Nino, and then she had the gall to say that she wouldn’t spill Marinette’s secret because she, and I quote, “doesn't go around making decisions for other people,“ a statement that is directly contradicted by this little thing known as everything Alya has ever said and done in the entire series.

And while Marinette meddling in Alya’s love life actually ended up working out for Alya, Alya meddling in Marinette’s by telling Nino who Marinette is crushing on comes back to bite Marinette - not Alya (because of course) - in the infamous episode of “The Puppeteer 2,” where Marinette realizes that Alya really did tell Nino that she was crushing on Adrien.

Marinette: You told me you wouldn't tell Nino!

Alya: I haven't told him. Right, Nino? I didn't tell you anything. (elbows him)

Nino: She didn't tell me. And besides, I told her I wouldn't tell.

Then, when she’s called out on it, Alya lies again, and shamelessly so.

Marinette: Why did you tell Nino everything? You promised you wouldn't!

Alya: I didn't, I swear! Besides, even if I had told him everything, he would still be clueless. Ugh, who cares anyway? I've set everything up with Nino, who doesn't know a thing, so you can finally pour your heart out to Adrien, girl!

And now, here we are one season later - and not even half of a season if you go by production code order - and Alya claims that she knows how to keep a secret.

No. No, she does not. In fact, she does even worse because she won’t even admit when she’s spilled said secret. I absolutely refuse to accept that Alya is “worthy” or “deserving” of learning that Marinette is Ladybug when she couldn’t even keep a basic secret like who her friend was crushing on.

And no, it didn’t matter that Nino was her boyfriend, or that maybe she thought it would work out because Nino was friends with Adrien. By that logic, Alya would tell Adrien that Marinette is Ladybug if she heard that Ladybug is who Adrien was crushing on and we all know how that would’ve gone.

Marinette has a right to tell her secret to whoever she wants and I’m glad that a burden has been lifted from her, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy that it’s Alya. That doesn’t mean I have to be happy that, after so many moments of Alya disrespecting Marinette’s feelings, she is the one who gets to hear the big secret that the fandom has been waiting for someone to find out about since the very start of the series.

Luka said it best in “Truth” that the truth is meant to be shared, not taken by force, but Marinette was forced to tell Alya by the narrative because Alya is her supposed “best friend.” It pushed Marinette to her breaking point, forced her to break up with the guy who has respected her agency and feelings since the day they met, and gave her a version of her “best friend” with the same name and face but with none of the responsibility from previous events so that said version was there at the right time and the right place to hear what had to be heard.

And in the end, I end up feeling nothing. Marinette doesn’t even have a “Marinette” reaction to saying it as one would expect; for her to blurt it out and then immediately start panicking until Alya hugs her to calm her down. Instead, Marinette just says it and stares silently at Alya - after blabbing this huge, very big deal of a secret - until Alya goes in for a hug (the “happy/hopeful” ending of which is why I feel like this episode also gets less flak, as the previous two ended off rather depressing/upsetting).

It’s off. Everything is off. The pacing, the delivery, and the logic that the episode uses. The emotion in Marinette’s voice when she’s rambling about how hard it is to keep her secret is so powerful, but then the ending hits and she just says it, breaking the momentum they had going. They pulled the card of Alya walking away too soon when they could’ve saved it, having Marinette go quiet and letting Alya take a few steps away in order to let the moment build before Marinette finally blurts out the secret she’s been painfully holding in.

But they didn’t, and I’m so many levels of dissatisfied. I wasn’t against the idea of Alya learning Marinette’s secret at some point (though honestly, Alix would’ve been a better pick considering that Bunnyx will know eventually anyway, and I say that not even liking Alix!), but not now; not when Alya had so much to work towards.

And now what? What happens now? Now Alya will turn against Lila, not because she learned to have faith and believe in Marinette, but because Marinette is Ladybug, which disproves Lila’s ultimate lie that got Alya’s attention in the first place? Now Alya will be supportive and less teasing/mocking whenever Marinette will be late, not because she understands that Marinette isn’t perfect and has so many other things on her mind, but because she’s Ladybug and has “hero stuff” to take care of? Now Alya will be careful about what she puts on the LadyBlog, not because she respected Ladybug and what Ladybug would want, but because Ladybug is now her best friend and that changes everything?

Because now, Alya has a free pass to all of that, the show making her spontaneously “developed” now so they won’t have to develop her later, and disappointing doesn’t even begin to describe it.

#category: salt #episode: Gang of Secrets #other: ml spoilers #category: long post #word count: over 7000 #other: ask and answer #((I know this is long so I did what I did in ''The Puppeteer 2'' where I had pictures to break it up.))

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Master Fu (commission for miner249er)

Chapter 7 of the commission for @miner249er

Previous Work

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Summary: Living for so long, it's hard not to just hide in a pattern and want to live in the past, even if the best thing is moving forward.

Wang Fu was no stranger to failure and mistakes, and though he liked to believe he had grown past those failures and mistakes, that he had learned and healed past them, now was not one such moment. He wasn’t a man of technology but he did own a television, not at first, but when Adrien and...and Marinette started out as Ladybug and Chat Noir he thought it would benefit him greatly to have an eye out for them. The best way he could do so in his age was the news, he would know about an akuma before his young heroes got to the scene so he would be prepared just in case Marinette would need to come over and borrow a Miraculous. Watching the fights filled him with dread but he would do it because it was one of the only ways he felt he could be useful to Marinette and Adrien, he couldn’t transform anymore, well he could, just not for long. Not long enough to be any real help. Maybe that’s why he ignored the signs.

The signs that screamed at him that something was wrong with Marinette, with her and Chat Noir’s dynamic, that something was desperately eating at her. They say ignorance is bliss, but Fu wasn’t so sure about that, it could be, maybe, in the moment when one is ignorant, but when reality comes crashing down you would have wished you had not been so blind. That is where Fu had found himself lately, trapped in that thinking time and time again. The news reports about Marinette had not helped that in the least, and they way the spoke about her enraged and saddened him all at once and though he was thankful that Hawkmoth was no longer a threat so he was able to be mad and sad, he could not find delight in the villain’s “disappearance” since it cost him the closest thing to family he had.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Fu had never thought he would get so attached to someone, he had never done so before, so it surprised him how easily Marinette squeezed herself into his heart. He hadn’t even had to think about who he would pass down the title and responsibility of Guardian to as soon as he got to know her. Even picking her as a hero had been easy, her soul was pure and it sang with creativity and love. When they got to interact with each other more, Fu began to care for her more and more as the days passed, he fully expected her to only visit for Guardian related things but to his delight and surprise, Marinette paid him many visits. From coming simply to see how he was doing, to bringing him some of her family’s pastries, each visit was a treasured moment for Fu.

Her kindness knew no bounds. If she knew he was having a bad day, pains and aches wise, she would bring him some tiger balm that her mom had bought. He had expressed his concern that her mother would notice and get mad with Marinette but Marinette had only laughed and told him that her mother has so many containers of tiger balm around the house and she always buys new ones even though she has, in Marinette’s words, ‘literally a million others.’ That memory brought a smile to his face and a pang to his heart nowadays. He remembered fondly how Marinette would come over and ask for Mandarin lessons since she only spoke Yue and she wanted to surprise her mother’s uncle next time he visited. Fu had been all too happy to assist her. He loved getting to pass on his knowledge and Marinette had been a great student. He even got to teach her how to brew tea.

For all her kindness, she never let it blind her, she let it lead her. She saw the good in people and strived to be the good they could strive to be as well. Wang Fu had admired her kindness and tried his best to live up to that level, where Marinette’s kindness was a strength, Fu’s became a weakness. His kindness blinded him. That was the only conclusion he could solidly come to after everything had changed. Before Marinette was...was akumatized. How else could he have missed the way that Ladybug, that Marinette, had looked during each battle on TV when Chat Noir would joke around...no when he would flirt and distract her from the fight. How stressed she seemed to get after each battle, after each patrol, how she would subtly try to bring up Chat Noir during their visits. Fu had thought nothing of it, or maybe he really did notice and had just willfully ignored everything.

Adrien Agreste was much like Wang Fu. Maybe that’s why he also turned a blind eye towards everything or why he didn’t notice other things. Adrien was a boy trapped by a role he never wanted, or a role he tricked himself into wanting and, or liking, much like Fu had done when he was taken from his family and taken to the Temple of the Order of the Guardians to train as a Guardian. Leaving his family had torn Wang Fu apart, he could have no trace of them in the Temple, not even his name, that too had been stripped from him along with any personal belongings. Truth be told he had forgotten his original name, time and the Order did that and it caused him so much sorrow. He remembered trying to write his old name anywhere he could get away with as a way to remember. He was always caught. So he stopped fighting and fully embraced being Wang Fu, Guardian of a Miracle Box, though at the time he never would have imagined being the Guardian of the most important Miracle Box in the Temple.

So it was easy for Fu to sympathize with Adrien, to him, Adrien joking and flirting around as Chat Noir was in a way the same as Fu trying to write his given name. Adrien just wanted to be free and Fu could understand that all too well. To live under strict rules that made you feel like you were doing anything but living, it was suffocating. So he had been soft on the boy, and that was another mistake for Wang Fu to add to his list, but he would put it up with causing the destruction of the Order of the Guardians and not fighting when he had to “leave” his family. Only because it seemed to be the catalyst to the whole butterfly effect that set everything that had happened into motion. Maybe if he had just spoken with Adrien, had been firm with him, maybe Adrien would have strived to become better rather than just be content with the freedom he had and not thinking of the consequences.

He should have strived to be better, a better man, a better hero, a better Guardian. For as much as Fu spoke and thought and remembered his hatred of the Order and their rules he didn’t try to improve upon them when he fled. No instead he followed those rules that had shackled him and kept him prisoner for as long and as brief as they had. Maybe if he had not lived in fear and guilt maybe he would have been strong enough to tell Adrien he was being unreasonable and maybe he would have told Marinette that she needed to take breaks more often and to just focus on one thing at a time. The kwami also had a lot to learn and that was on him for not teaching them and communicating with them. He should have made it clear that teenagers, no, that people in general, have changed. You can’t be too laid back, sometimes your holder will need guidance. Don’t be too positive and try to enforce that positivity on someone, positivity can become toxic and telling someone they always have to be happy or they always have to be the bigger person is not helping as much as you think it was.

Tikki, Plagg, and him had had a very long discussion at his house about that and about their mistakes in general. Both kwami were displeased with Fu and how he handled everything and honestly he didn’t blame them, but he could tell they took his words to heart as well. Plagg...Plagg hadn’t been eating as much since he was back in Fu’s possession, ever since he was taken from Adrien, and Tikki...Tikki hadn’t spoken a word after their talk. All she did was watch the TV and all the news channels, anything that was about Marinette she would watch, and undoubtedly she would get angry or sad and all the plants in Fu’s house would grow exponentially. All the other kwami tried to comfort her and get her to talk or even just rest inside the Miracle Box for a bit, even Plagg had tried, but the kwami of Creation did not budge. Now Fu could say he understood but that would be a lie, although he and Wayyz were compatible and they enjoyed each other's company, the two of them were not a true match. Tikki and Marinette on the other hand...those two were a true match, two souls connected and bonded, and for a kwami to lose one was said to be unbearable.

In Tikki and Plagg’s silence and sudden mood change, Sass and Longg had been more talkative and desperate than he had ever witnessed before. The snake and dragon kwami had explained to him exactly what their holders had been doing and had done their best to apologize to Tikki, but she had yet to acknowledge their efforts. They were similar to Plagg, their holder may not be a perfect match with them but they were close, so close, so to lose them was painful to them too. They had desperately tried to convince him to give them back to their respective holder, and again they had pleaded with him to do so today as he took a walk to get some air. He had brought them with him so that Tikki and Plagg could get some peace and quiet back at his house, and plus he felt like the two elder kwami needed the time alone. Fu just hoped they could help each other since he and the other kwami were struggling to do so.

“Masster, I undersstand your hessitancce, but I will assk once again, give Luka and Misss Kagami another chanccce. Their heartss were in the right placce.” Sass stated once more, though this time he was hiding himself in Fu’s shoulder bag as he went on his aimless walk.

“Sass is right, Master. I will admit, our holders were hasty in their quest for justice, but in the end their actions were done out of love and loyalty and a wish to help.” Long added.

“I understand that. Know that I do you two, but also acknowledge the fact that Hawkmoth is gone. The reason for the heroes is gone. What reason is there for you to be given back to those children?” Fu replied not unkindly, just with the facts that had been staring at him day after day.

“Masster...you don’t believe that. Yess, true as it may be that Hawkmoth iss gone, we never know when danger comess. Besidess, we don’t know where Miss Marinette iss...I know you want to find her, and Luka and Kagami want to find her too. They can help and they know how to use Longg and I’ss Miraculouss.” Sass replied after a while, and though Fu was reluctant to admit it, the kwami had a point.

“We don’t even know where to begin to look...but you do raise some good points Sass.” Fu muttered, he was grateful for today’s technology as it looked as though he was merely speaking into a Bluetooth speaker, a gift from Marinette, one of many. She had explained it was a good way to speak to the kwami without anyone getting suspicious. Truly the girl was a creative soul, and very smart.

“And, if I may say so Master, this world is not the one of old. The rules made for then do not apply to now, at least that is what myself, Sass, and other kwami believe. The traditional rules demanded our power not be used unless there are other Miraculi active or if the world we inhabit is well and truly on its way to destruction.” Long began after a moment of silence. “Even the word hero has changed, it became a role we never anticipated. I think it is time we change the rules and our views, otherwise, we stand no chance in this new world Wang Fu.”

Fu found himself short of words. Long was right, in all the years he had been alive he had watched the world change, it was a beautiful frightening thing to behold. Yet, in all those years of change, he never thought to change himself along with the world. He had been so stuck in guilt and fear that he mentally trapped himself in a prison of his own design, a prison shaped like a temple that had been lost long ago. There was no excuse really, the truth was plain and simple, Fu was scared. Scared that if he broke the rules that were trained into him from a young age then there would be no redemption, there would be no point in his survival. But the world had changed and maybe Fu did too and could change for the better, because even if the threats to the world weren’t imminent, they were persistent and prominent.

Change was good.

“You believe this change we need is to stay active?” He asked after a while.

“I believe that is a step, yes.” Longg responded and Fu could hear the smile in his voice. “This world needs help and we...we need help too.”

“Longg iss right. You were correct in giving all of uss involved a talking to. At the time we didn’t want to lissten, but the factss are we kwami no longer know how to connect and coexisst in this world with humanss.” Sass admitted, and it was another shock for Fu but at the same time, what they were saying was convincing and true. All of them, not just the kwami, Fu included, had been sheltered away from the world. It was not the advantage Fu or even past Guardians thought it was.

The sounds of children’s laughter brought Fu out of whatever reply he found worthy to give Sass and Longg, he kind of wished Wayzz would give his opinion on the matter but he understood why the kwami was letting his brethren speak their mind. Fu looked around to see where his walk had taken him and felt a pang in his heart and his breath stolen from him for a moment, he had walked to the park next to Marinette’s home. For a while all he did was stand there and take it in before he gave himself a wry smile and decided to take a seat on one of the benches near the fountains. It was a spot Marinette had told him was one of her favorites to sketch at. Sitting there brought fresh tears to his eyes, tears he thought were all cried out.

“I think you two are right, but we will not rush into this. We need to be smart about this.”

“I believe that is the wise thing to do, Master.” Wayzz finally gave his opinion along with a small discrete nuzzle to Fu’s cheek.

“As do I, my friend. As do I.” He chuckled in response.

After that the kwami let him sit there in silence and just reflect and remember. Truly he was grateful for that. He needed some quiet to himself, not the quiet of his home, that was a tense quiet that put an ache in his bones. No he needed this quiet, the quiet of being alone in your thoughts while hearing the noise of everything around you. Sass and Longg both had great points and though he loathed to admit it, if something did happen he wasn’t sure he would be able to do anything or at the very least get help. Fu didn’t like to think about his age much, he didn’t even celebrate his birthday before Marinette, because his age showed how long he had run from his guilt and it showed him his limitations. It would be best to have a team on standby just in case, and besides maybe they could help with just regular crime and disasters too. Yes a team really would benefit them all, but the who of it was where he was struggling.

He already decided he would not give out Tikki and Plagg...they weren’t ready to be out again and he couldn’t imagine giving the earrings to anyone but Marinette. He feared what Tikki’s reaction would be if he even considered the idea. No, it was best that those Miraculi stayed in the box, along with Duusuu who was still healing from being damaged and misused. He would consider Mlle Tsuguri and M Couffaine again as heroes, after all he was intimately familiar with making a mistake, and they made a mistake but they were trying to do the right thing. They were also Marinette’s most trusted friends, she trusted them with her secrets and her friendship, that was enough for Fu. Though he would still test them to see if they could handle being heroes once more. Adrien...Adrien he didn’t know what to do with. With everything that happened he had no way of knowing if their talks did anything. He hoped beyond hope they did because he truly believed that Adrien was a good kid at heart.

“Look who’s here guys! Timebreaker! What are you doing here? You going to bully us until we disappear too?” Fu heard and he immediately looked up to see a young girl with pink hair surrounded by a couple of other kids her age. He recognized her...ah yes, Alix Kubdel, Marinette had spoken of her a couple times when she told him of her friends and school.

“Careful guys, I wouldn’t touch her, what if we vanish if we do?” One of the girls in the group said with anything but fear in her voice.

Fu frowned and pushed himself up to stand, he couldn’t stand the way the group laughed and seeing as no one else was going to interrupt, he would. “What is this? École?” He paused and saw a girl with long blonde pigtails and a parasol and another with a bob of black hair. He recognized them too, the weather girls from TV that Kaalki liked to watch, Aurore Beauréal and Mireille Caquet.

“Oh back off Aurore.” One of the boys of the group of teasing teens scoffed.

“How about you back off Jackson,” Mireille said which seemed to surprise the lot, “You’ve seen what words can do. We all have.”

“Mireille is right.” Aurore announced, her voice demanding attention. “We are lucky that Hawkmoth is gone, but that does not mean you get to treat people like place mats. Any of you. Just because your victims can’t turn into puppets of a madman to get revenge on you anymore doesn’t give you the right to act like crétins. Shame on all of you.”

“If you insist on acting like children in école, maybe we should just call your parents and let them know how you are behaving. I’m sure they would love to know.” Mireille said with an innocent looking smile.

Fu smiled when the group grumbled and walked away from Mlle Kubdel, he watched as the two weather girls looked her over and spoke to her before the young girl shouldered past them both and ran. The girls looked devastated but all Fu could think of was how heroic it was for them to step up like that. “Heroic indeed…” He mumbled to himself.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #master fu #adrien agreste #alix kubdel #aurore beauréal #mireille caquet #ml class salt #slight adrien salt #slight tikki salt #literally just like a pinch of salt for this chapter #revolt of the akuma #rota #angst #ml tikki #ml plagg #ml sass #ml longg #ml wayzz #angsty feels #ml salt fic

[void-adjacent-particles]

Content warnings: Death, gore, fire mentions, scars, murder, violence.

Totems of Undying are strange things. They’re warm, and will pulse in time to the heartbeat of whatever is holding them, emerald eyes glimmering even in the pure dark of the void’s absence of light. While Totems are made of gold, there is no malleability, they are as solid as bedrock. The emeralds and gold and magic have solidified into one unchangeable object until its use, and then it is gone.

They leave their mark on whatever uses them. For some this could be a prize, another thing to be proud of, because they survived the unsurvivable only through their own wits and forethought. To others it is a mark of shame, for ever having been in such a position to lose their life, even if it is only one of three.

On a specific server, there are those who have need for Totems in their long pasts, who have used them right before our eyes, and those who will surely use them in the future.

Technoblade was one such person to use one before our eyes. We saw him dragged from his home to a farce of a trial, facing justice on rigged scales for grievous cries nonetheless as he was pushed into a cage. The fall of the anvil, the crushing, crunching of a body that never seemed fragile until now when everyone witnessed its end. Then the sparkling cloud of green and yellow, bones clicking back in jigsaw puzzle pieces, the knitting of muscle and tendon and skin, and there is only a moment of paralyzing death before his heart skips a beat and he lives again. This is the prestige of his trick, no turn to raise suspense, and a pledge everyone who knew his name already was aware of, a promise and threat all in one that he always delivered on. Technoblade never dies, and he lives right now to kill again. Later he will be in his quaint cottage in the merciless tundra, and his own reflection will glitter strangely back at him, forcing him to examine himself instead of resting and trying to forget the lingering aches. He will stare as the night sky leaves the window more a mirror, lantern lights low, but the flashes catch his eyes anyway. His tusks, once white and bone, now seem to be fully made of gold. He taps one with his hoof, and feels the pressure reverberating subtly down into his jaws, as real as before. With a shrug, he moves his hoof away, only to watch as pink fur and skin split against the now razor sharp point of his tusks. Those tusks will remain as gilded as any enchanted apple, and as sharp as any netherite sword, until one day he will fail his audience, his pledge a battle cry he brings to one or more of his graves.

Quackity would covet a Totem in all of his paranoia, his fear of death and pain and losing even more than he already has. If he died, be it by pickaxe or nuke or strangling, desperate hands, the Totem would bring him back all the same. And all of his scars would ache in their newfound golden hue, shining and standing out even more as a testament to his inability to protect himself or what he loves. The scars would hurt, old and new, in warning of dangers to come. It only partly calms his paranoia, the fear ever present and simmering in the background of his mind, waiting to boil over and burn him.

When Tubbo or Tommy use their Totems of Undying they will appear unharmed. It is not until they bruise that it becomes obvious. A small bump against the corner of furniture, a tumble while out exploring the wild, a sharp elbow to the face, the blunt side of a weapon, they bruise the skin, blossoming into purples and dark indigos. They fade far too quickly, as if someone splashed healing potions on them. Yet then they stay at that disquieting green and yellow stage, where the next day it could appear as if they were never there, but they stay, shimmering slightly in the wrong lighting, still hurting as much as if they were fresh even weeks later. Only fading when forgotten about, and they have wonder if the bruise was ever there. If only they had Totems when they died before. Tubbo’s face would be a mess of bruised gold that would seep into the skin until only pink scar tissue remained, a starburst remnant of a festival’s fireworks, but he would still be alive, gasping for air and hunched over in that box, on that stage, but alive. Tommy would have handprint bruises around his neck, across the break in his nose, the imprint of a fist against his cheek that had whipped his head back too far, his neck slamming at the worst angle against the harsh obsidian walls. But he would have been alive, clawing his way back into life, latching his own hands around his killer’s throat, finishing the job, doing what should have been done instead of daring to imprison a dream.

George passes out if he uses a Totem. Instead of the rush of adrenaline, of life that floods the system of whatever uses one, it overwhelms to the point of just unconsciousness as his body repairs itself, fueled only by magic until his heart begins pumping and his lungs begin breathing again. Later when he wakes, maybe with cracked sunglasses, anyone who’s looking properly will see the dark bags under his eyes, a sheen of gold overlaying the dark purple of sleeplessness. When he sleeps it will be deeper, without dreams. Alarms and shaking won’t wake him. Nights will be sleepless as he examines the bags under his eyes, fretting over the burnt orange of the gold deepening, digging into his skin, around his eyes. He will continue to sleep, but days will pass, and when he wakes he wonders if next time he will simply be unlucky and sleep forever.

If Dream uses a Totem of Undying it will shatter him. He will feel every bone shake themselves into dust and back again, a glimpse of what everyone eventually returns to. His spine will burn with pain, arcing upwards to the base of his skull, spreading outwards like a deep set rot that always goes unnoticed until it is far too late and the structure crumbles. His mask shatters, likely from the final strike that killed him, but maybe just from his fall to the ground, a person one moment and a corpse the next, until the Totem brings him back. Gold lines every crack in the porcelain of his mask, across the monochrome of the glaze burned into it, bisecting an eye, a smile, a face. The green of him becomes so much more vibrant, deadly, similar to prey animals that evolve into their bright colors to indicate they are poisonous, saying if you kill me, I take you down with me.

If Niki ever uses a Totem, it would burn. She would feel it burning, more than the all encompassing pain of whatever killed her. Bright, sparking pain would race down her body, through every nerve, every blood vessel, until it was all she knew for that brief suspended moment on the precipice between life and death. She would grit her teeth through the pain, eyes narrowed as she reeled back from the magical force, only to march onward in doing whatever was necessary to achieve her goal. Later she would be looking at her hands, washing off blood real or metaphorical, and see that instead of chipping nail polish in whatever color of her choice, instead her nails would be intact, a brilliant gold. Nails that would make her appear vain, still absorbed with one final thing, or simply clinging to it. Nails that would sharpen into what some might call claws, digging into the fine wooden handles of her weapons, scoring lines that would never go away, even if the nails would upon her death.

If Hannah ever uses a Totem of Undying it will react strangely to her innate magic. Plants die off, withering away, leaving just the roots, the basis of their whole survival, to lie in wait underground until the rain falls again and the sun shines again. Any of her wounds will bloom with roses, the flowers ragged, shaped like bloodstains, but every leaf and petal will be edged with gold. The greenery of her roses’ vines will brighten and soak up sunshine more than ever, revitalizing her until her heart aches with it, until she finally lets fate claim the life stolen from it.

If Puffy ever uses a Totem of Undying, she wouldn’t notice side effects at first, aside from the usual anguish and pain from having died. The likely conflicts she had thrown herself into out of duty would capture her attention anyway, away from examining herself for any lingering problems. It wouldn’t be a problem anyway, not until she looked in the mirror and saw that all of her greying hairs from stress became gold, her mass of curls even heavier, no lock of hair without its reminder, its own thread of gold to weave into thick hair. Later, in a moment of true rest, when someone runs their hands through her hair, braiding it or simply trying to calm her, they would find that every golden thread burns and tries to tie itself around their hands, keeping them there, keeping them at her side where they could be safe.

If Antfrost or Fundy ever use a Totem, it settles on their skin like a weighted blanket, forcing their muscles to accommodate, forcing them to make room in their lives for the extra chance they stole. Later, when they rest, so much more tired with their aching bodies, they will curl up in the sunshine wherever they feel safest. When the sunlight catches just right, beige or burnt orange fur glimmers like a pelt of gold. Any breeze would be unable to rustle fur, their bodies motionless and unmovable as any statue, their breathing far shallower and subtler than ever before. If one wasn’t watching close enough, they’d assume there was a corpse just curled in the sunlight, begging for a final bit of warmth before letting go. They will start awake from nightmares with a hiss, and stretch out in the dying light to go pretend like they don’t feel that extra life weighing on them.

Phil only has one life to lose, and so he holds Totems close to his heart, always just one movement away from being clutched as the lifelines they are. When he’s killed holding one, wings splayed, feathers falling from the force of his death, mouth open and choking on last breaths, his death will hurt.  It will always hurt, the moment stretching through his lived centuries and snapping back into the present, so much life to flash before his eyes that they are rendered sightless and glassy, death clouding them greedily. Flashes of gold and emerald green dance on the sheen of inky feathers and glossy eyes as dead as a doll’s. When he lives again, his wings will no longer be the cape of shadows, the midnight extensions of self that they once were. His secondary feathers will be golden now, shining in the sun, always growing back that same shade. Those gilded feathers will just be another thing his murder of crows hoards, another shiny object, but to Phil it will be a permanent reminder of how he has always only had one life, and how fleeting it is.

If Wilbur got his hands on a Totem, he would never let it go. To die again and again and again, to suffer through the agony of an eternal listless limbo, to suffer again as he is replaced by a mockery of himself… he could not stand for it. So he never lets go of the Totem in hand, his thumb worrying over the facets of its emerald eyes when he thinks, nails breaking against the rigid golden effigy. There are many reasons he would die, several from his own actions, as it was before. If he did die, he would wake choking on blood and tears, hacking and wheezing and lacking all the grace and charm he once had. It wouldn’t be until he coughed once again into his hands that he would see his blood, no longer a dull red, now glimmering and golden. And he laughs, as he now resembles a god in all but the immortality, his blood turned to ichor in its molten sunlight, its deep dark shades of beauty and riches, and he keeps choking on his blood as the Totem works still to restore a body dead for the fourth time.

When Ranboo uses a Totem of Undying the magic will seep into his skin, counteracting strangely with his biology, trying to strengthen him, trying to mark him however it can. So the short black velvet of fur he received from enderman genetics will spread, the skin and fur stronger, in hopes of protecting him. It seeps like ink, a slow spread that burns as if trails of water settled on his skin. It hurts, and he hides for days, coming out with his green eye just a bit brighter, black crawling up the white side of his jaw like an outstretched hand. His own hand will reach out, and under the white skin on his forearm will be golden veins, burning with life stolen from a Totem. He forgets using Totems every time he does, the experience is so jarring and intense as it changes the fiber of his being, as with every use he appears more enderman than whatever else he is. One day, far in the future when he goes by another name, he will look in the mirror and see two emerald green eyes, his entire body the black void of fur his endermen kin have. 

Foolish is a being whose entire being had always been defined by death. Once, it was the carnage, the lives lost in droves, sent into Her embrace prematurely in their violent ends. Then Foolish changed and became a Totem of Undying himself, a god now more mortal than even he knew by resisting his domain. When he died the denial was almost too much to bear, the Egg trying to worm its way into his mind when it realized this weakness, a grief for what he lost. If he dies again, he will likely have a Totem in hand, maybe even one of his children, held close as he fears an end, selfishly cannibalizing the life force of one of his own in order to extend his last two lives. There will be no markings from the Totem. He is already one of them, eyes of gemstone and skin of metal, created and made of that space between life and death, the lull after a last heartbeat when the next is expected, the resting note in the song of life that he has conducted himself, has cut short himself, destroying all in his path without a single goal in mind in his times as a Totem of Death. There is no scar or blood or feathers or bruise to mark him, because he is a Totem. A Totem given sentience and life, given free will and thought, but at the end of the day a living doll, and the now lifeless, apathetically terrified look in Foolish’s emerald eyes is enough to show just what measures he took in order to survive another death.

#dreamsmp #dream smp #dsmp #technoblade #tommyinnit #tubbo #mcyt #wilbur soot #philza #nihachu #antfrost #fundy #dreamwastaken #foolish gamers #dreamsmp headcanons #headcanons #headcanon #hannahxxrose #georgenotfound #quackity #ranboo #ranboolive #foolishgamer #death tw

[freddy-fazbears-wonderland]

Decommission or Restoration Headcanons Part 1: Glamrock Chica

So, you know how Lady Dimitrescu gets more and more livid as you kill her daughters? I wish we had something like that in Security Breach. Think about it: We know that the animatronics are sentient. They obviously have relationships with each other and maybe some get along more than others. People make posts about how Glamrock Freddy would react to finding Gregory was destroying his posts, and I will get to that. But first, I want to focus on the other animatronics first. Also, I will be adding additional animatronics and maybe make a separate post for my OCs about this. Also, destroying the animatronics to steal their parts is optional here.

The very first animatronic get to either decommission or restore is Glamrock Chica since she is the easiest to evade and the easiest to trick. She gets along with every animatronic so they will all get aggressive if you chose to decommission her. But the animatronics you have to look out for are Roxanne Wolf and Glamrock Foxy since they are the closest to her. Both of them will be extremely distraught and thus will be the most aggressive to make up for her absence. 

Roxy is visibly sad, wailing as she hunts you down, wishing that she had caught you earlier so none of this would’ve happened. She’s mad at you, but due to her insecurities, she also blames herself for it. Roxy is faster and can jump even farther, making it really risky to stop and look back at who is chasing you.

Foxy is just pure rage in your presence. He berates you for hurting her as he stalks you, becoming more sneaky and making it overall harder to evade him. When he is unaware of your presence, he shows his more venerable side. Foxy cries over Chica too, though he doesn’t blame himself as much as Roxy does.

When Roxanne and Foxy run into each other, they will begin to interact. Our favorite low self-esteem wolf will continue to blame herself for not being able to protect Chica, revealing that she and Foxy vowed to do so. Foxy assures her that it isn’t her fault and she did a fantastic job looking out for the animatronic before that incident. 

Goes to show how much Chica meant to them both.

But what if you were to restore her to her normal programming instead? The most obvious thing is that Glamrock Chica is on your side now and will use her abilities to held you escape. As pointed out by the game, her Voice Box has the power to stun other animatronics and deactivate electronic looks whenever she sings or shout. But much like Glamrock Freddy, she can’t accompany you for long and will need to be summoned from time to time. She can’t follow you everywhere either. When an animatronic gets too close to you, she will stun them, giving you enough time to escape.

How would the others react? They will have the same level of aggression they had when Vanny first hacked them. But whenever Chica is present, they will try to regain control though they will never succeed. The only animatronic who has any real change in behaviour is Foxy, who will not give chase if Chica is present. He will stay in the shadows, watching you from a distance and waiting for her to leave so he’ll have the opportunity to capture you. If you decommission any other animatronic and she finds out, Chica will get mad at you and refuse to help out. She won’t think its fair that she gets your mercy while her friends don’t. She will try to tell Freddy but he is reluctant to believe her. Regardless, your relationship with Freddy will be affected.

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #security breach #roxanne wolf #glamrock foxy #glamrock chica #fnaf headcanons #fnaf headcanon #long post

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: Double Crossover

Written by: The Maribat Pit   Prompt: Double Crossover Rated: M rating just to be safe (sexual references, mostly because of some very unsavory things Lila thinks and implies about Marinette.) Marinette x Jason Phantom of the Opera (specifically Hush Jason, from 2020′s Death in the Family).

A/N (Maribat fangirl): There is going to be a lot of class salt, Lila salt and some heavy duty character bashing.  I’m going to be upfront, there’s characters being called harlots. A/N (DC fanboy): My S.O. and I pretty much did karaoke while writing this.

Paris, 1875. Marinette worked in her parents bakery, while she loved her family dearly, she was dissatisfied with her current lot in life. She wished to become a singer, and everyday as she walked in the streets of Paris to bring flour to the bakery, she would stop and stare at the Conservatoire de Paris. The enchanting music and singing could be heard even in the streets.

Listening to music always reminded her of her favourite fairy tale told by her father, the one about  ‘Angel of Music’. She would sit on the street across the Conservatoire, close her eyes and listen to the beautiful music emanating from it. Once she tried to sing along, but passersby would be swift to yell at her to stop. They described her voice sounding like a rusty hinge.

Upon her 15th birthday, her parents presented to her a once in a lifetime opportunity. They had presented her with an approved application to the Conservatoire, they had saved enough money for tuition and would be sending her there to chase her dreams as an opera singer. Marinette held her parents tightly, thanking them constantly for the amazing opportunity.

That night, Marinette was unable to sleep, she was beaming with energy and excitement. She could not believe how her luck was changing, how she would be going to the musical academy of her dreams.

The next morning however she would be in a nervous panic for her first day of lessons. Running about the home, getting prepared, packing her bags. She even forgot to eat breakfast, she ran out the door with a croissant in her mouth, much to the chagrin of her parents.

However, her dream academy soon became a waking nightmare to her. She would be tormented daily by all her peers, especially one Lila Rossi, the prima donna of the academy. Every professor would sneer at her low birth, and did nothing when the others tried to sabotage her standing at the Academy.  She tried to keep her head held high, even as everyone else looked down on her for being a baker’s daughter. Marinette ignored the comments and rumours about how she was able to attend the prestigious academy.  Rumours that she dared not repeat, about how she and her parents must be criminals if they were able to afford to send her to the academy.  

It wasn’t enough for her to be stuck in the chorus, Lila Rossi wanted to make sure her place as prima donna of the academy was ironclad. A couple of the teachers felt that she was growing more temperamental, more complacent, and their eyes began to wander for a dancer to take her place.  The other dancers were unwilling to take her place, all except for Marinette, who saw it as a shining opportunity.  For Lila, this simply would not stand.  

The one time Marinette found a pair of scissors that had been used to cut the laces on her pointe shoes.  The same scissors that were missing from her sewing box days earlier. She decided that the time had come to confront Lila once and for all.

Marinette confronted her just before rehearsals began, scissors in hand, in front of everyone.  “Is it true?” she called, everyone turned to look at them.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Lila gasped.  She looked down to see her wearing her worn out slippers, before looking back up at her face.  “You do know you’re meant to be wearing your toe shoes now, right? The show is in a few days.” she reminded her.

“I do,” she breathed, “I also know it was you, you’re the one who cut the laces on my pointe shoes.”

Lila gasped and stepped back, everyone else was shocked by the accusation. She looked away for a moment, and squeezed her eyes shut.  Marinette knew the trick well from their acting classes at the academy, she was getting ready to make it look like she was crying.  “Why? Why would you accuse me of something like this?” she made sure her voice wavered as she spoke, “what reason do I have to sabotage a background dancer’s shoes?”

Marinette knew she had lost the battle before it had even begun, every dancer would move to protect Lila and her crocodile tears.  Lila was the prima donna, the daughter of a diplomat, and she had the entire academy in the palm of her hand.  “Perhaps there was some mistake,” she muttered, walking away from her classmates rushing to defend Lila’s fake tears.  It was useless trying to explain that the scissors were stolen from her, and that this was an elaborate setup.  It was her word against Lila’s, as the directors tried to command the dancer’s attention, Marinette ran.  

Once again, she tried to keep her head held high, it wasn’t as if anyone would believe her when she told them about Lila’s machinations.   She made a habit of keeping her costumes and pointe shoes hidden.  On occasion bringing them home whenever she visited her parent’s bakery, somewhere that little saboteur would not even think to look for them.

Months later, tragedy struck again when she received a letter informing her that her parent’s bakery had been burned.  Her parents, her hopes, her dreams all burned to ash in one night.  It was made worse by the fact that one rehearsal, Lila snatched the letter out of her hands and read it aloud for the entire company of dancers and singers to hear.   She assumed that it would be some kind of love note, probably preparing to spread rumours about Marinette sneaking off into the night with a mystery lover.  Instead, Lila simply made a show of pitying Marinette, “poor thing, it’s worse than I thought.  Unless you can find a patron to support you, your days at the academy are going to be numbered.”

Just as the theatre managers had arrived, Marinette fled, keeping her head down as tears were welling up in her eyes and blurring her vision.  Since the day she arrived she had been mocked, humiliated, tormented simply so that one girl could have the adoration and sympathy of her fellow performers.  Through all the salacious rumours and lies, she tried her best to ignore them and carry herself through it all.  The loss of her parents, their bakery, and now Marinette’s hopes and dreams, it was all too much to bear.  

Marinette ran to an empty music room to cry her heart out, she sat right against the wall, knees curled up to her chest and sobbed into her legs. In this state of absolute despair, she began to sing a song of her favourite fairy tale that her father would sing to her whenever she had a nightmare.  She sang a soft, painful prayer for the Angel of Music and a farewell to her lost parents. “Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goodbye…”, her singing was hoarse, off key, full of sorrow.

The more she sang, the harder she cried. Soon to the point that she could not complete the song. However, a disembodied voice sang the remaining verse for her. Marinette paused from her crying to look for the voice, it felt as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. It was hypnotising, elegant, enchanting. She walked out of the music room to try to find the source of the singing.

“Come to me, Angel of Music.” The voice sang, in a smooth tenor voice, luring Marinette as if she was a moth attracted to a flame. The voice led her to a musical hall, reserved only for the academy’s annual showcase. She turned the door knob, to her surprise, the door was unlocked. She peeked her head through the door to see a cloaked figure playing the organ, the source of the enchanting voice. “Insolent girl, this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory.” The figure angrily sang “Ignorant fool, this prima donna.”

“Angel of Music, is that you?” Marinette tentatively asked the figure. The figure stopped playing, and turned around to face her. Marinette was taken aback by the figure, he was a tall man, wearing a red mask on the left side of his face. Another distinctive feature other than his magnificent voice was the white streak of hair and piercing green eyes.

“You are unlike any of the fools in this academy. You did not join this academy for fame or fortune. No, you came here because of your love of music.” The figure told her. He took a deep breath and composed himself, straightening his jacket. Then he raised an arm, reaching out to Marinette. “I am your Angel of Music, come to me Angel of Music.”  Marinette walks forward and accepts the Angel’s hand, thus beginning their first musical lesson together.

Marinette’s talent and ability in music skyrocketed with her extra-curricular lessons.   Her mysterious patron was also the one continuing to fund her education at the academy.  Meanwhile, no one else had the time to spread rumours about Marinette, not when there were rumours of a ghost haunting the Conservatoire.  

Unbeknownst to Marinette, she was the key to establishing control over a very profitable endeavour for her mysterious patron. The managers were being extorted to the tune of 20,000 francs and requested that box five remain open.  This money was nothing to them, especially when the sons and daughters of the wealthy and powerful were attending.  Very few had seen Jason’s face, and if they did, they would draw back in fear.   It was the result of a boyhood accident that left him changed and altered in more ways than one.  Taking control of the Conservatoire was merely the first step in taking control of an entire city.  This girl, Marinette, was the key to captivating their attention.  She would hold their attention and adoration as the rising star of the academy, drawing their eyes away from his growing influence and power.  Using talents and potential that they had cast aside, twisting their own hubris against them.  

Months later, everyone in the academy worked towards its annual showcase for its patrons, the nobility and all family members of its students. Lila had grown bored of tormenting Marinette, and had moved on to other victims.  She had her other dancers and singers wrapped around her little finger, and all eyes would be on her at the annual showcase.  

At last the day of the annual showcase had arrived, Lila sat at her personal preparation room, after all she would be the star of the show. She walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, she then screamed in horror to see her dress tattered and in pieces.

In the days leading to the showcase the Director of Conservatoire de Paris had received threatening letters demanding 20,000 Francs, box 5 to remain vacant and worse of all to replace Lila Rossi with some baker’s daughter. Director Bourgeois scoffed at the threats, tossing the letter away.

The next day during the rehearsal for one of the ballet numbers, students and teachers paid no mind to the threats that were outlined in the letter. Until one of the dancers looked up and gasped in horror. The other dancers looked up to find the stagehand hanging from the rafters. The theatre soon bursts into screams of fear as they all see the dead body of the stagehand.   Director Bourgeois ordered all faculty members and students present to remain silent of the murder. This prestigious institution could not afford such a scandal this close to such an important showcase. As the Director inspected the body, he found a letter titled to him attached to the corpse of a stagehand.

Director Bourgeois read the second letter with shaky hands, it read “Monsieur Bourgeois, good day to you. It seems you did not take my threat seriously. I present to you this corpse to show my sincerity. I see you have a young daughter, pray that no harm would befall her. I shall reiterate my demands, 20,000 francs, box five remain vacant and Mademoiselle Marinette shall replace the harlot Lila Rossi.”

Director Bourgeois collapsed into his chair, wiping his sweat. Until he heard a scream from outside his office. He ran out as fast as he could to see Lila Rossi confronting Marinette. Crocodile tears flowed from Lila’s eyes as she accused Marinette of sabotage, purposefully doing so in front of the Director's office.  

“How could you Marinette?” Lila wailed, “Whatever your reasons, how could you do this to me? To the Conservatoire?”

Marinette merely said “Lila, don’t you stay in a private room with guards patrolling the hallway outside?” She shrugs, “I was in my dormitory last night. Besides, how could anyone sneak into your room at night, unless they were a phantom?”

Director Bourgeois goes pale at Marinette’s implication, he had to intervene quickly, before the situation got worse. He attempted to placate Lila, “Now now mademoiselles, I can’t punish anybody unless we have solid evidence. As the saying goes ‘the show must go on.’ Signora Rossi, as you are currently unable to perform, I’m afraid Mademoiselle Marinette will have to take your place.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the offer given to her, she could not believe it. Director Bourgeois himself offered her the star role for this year’s showcase. It is all as her Angel of Music said would happen. She accepted the role wholeheartedly and thanked the director profusely, she skipped back to the musical hall to begin rehearsals, now as the main lead.

Lila’s jaw dropped to see the director siding against her, how he gave away her role to that peasant without any hesitation. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, she stomped her way back to her bedroom to begin scheming the ultimate humiliation for Marinette. She was so distracted with her rage, she had not noticed a shadowy figure following her.

Lila planned to show the entire Opera house just who Marinette was, little more than a filthy peasant who got lucky.  She was supposed to have packed her bags and left months ago, after her parents and their pathetic little bakery burned down.  “This Opera Phantom had a lot of nerve calling me a harlot, when Marinette is probably his little harlot.” she muttered harshly in the darkness.  She searched the costume room for the lead actress’ dress, a long flowing gown that brushed against the floor.  It was made with the finest fabrics that money could buy, it almost broke Lila’s heart to sabotage it.  She would rather die than see it worn by some peasant girl, a pretender, a talentless sham of a performer.  Before she can lay hand on the dress to destroy it, a gloved hand reaches out and grabs her by the wrist.  A voice interrupts her, “What do you think you are doing with that?”

Lila slowly turns around to see a grotesque figure staring at her.  In the candlelight, she was horrified by the person she saw. The left half of his face was severely burned, almost completely disfigured. His bright green eyes flared with a fury that genuinely terrified Lila as the figure glared at her. She immediately drops everything and screams, as she runs out the door as fast as her legs would carry her, wailing and screaming how the ghost is trying to kill her. “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” she wails as he chases her down. The Phantom pursues his prey. Just as Lila runs around a corner, the ghost is there waiting for her. She gives another horrified scream, falling to the floor and trying to crawl in the opposite direction. “No no no, please don't kill me!” She begged as tears blurred her vision.

Her howls and pleas of mercy attract nearby students, teachers and guards. They all arrive to see Lila screaming like a maniac on the floor, alone and raving about some ghost hunting her down. “The ghost is real! He is real I tell you! He’s going to kill me!” she sobbed. As Lila was being escorted out of the academy, gossip spread like wildfire. Within hours everyone would be talking about how Lila had lost all of her sanity because of the ghost.

They had no other choice at that moment, the show had to go on.  If they wanted the night to go smoothly, with no one noticing anything strange or peculiar, they had to meet the Phantom’s demands.  Marinette stood there, centre stage, with all of Paris’ most influential in the audience. She began to sing her show stopping aria.  

As she glided across the stage and looked out into the audience, her eyes searched for the man in the red mask.  She liked to imagine her Angel of Music beaming at her with pride, without him, she would still be that sad little girl crying in the music room.  She sang as loudly and as clearly as she could, hoping that her voice would pierce the heavens clearly enough for her mother and father to hear.  

As she reached her crescendo, she peaked with an E6. Her voice echoed across the entire hall with the sharpness and perfection of a veteran soprano singer. The audience collective dropped their jaws at the spectacle. Marinette ended her aria with a bow, and the theatre erupted with a thunderous round of applause.  

Jason watched from his seat in box five, with a self satisfied smile on his face.  From that day forth, he would see to it that all eyes were on her.  

#maribat lila salt #jasonettejuly2021 #jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #maribat class salt

[everlarkficexchange]

Hold Me Up

Prompt 42. Group of friends. Economic disaster, no jobs; eventually in desperation someone in the group suggests making a porno for $, the idea takes off, as they work on a script and put out ideas, a lot becomes clear, like who has kinks, who has tried a lot, and that one is an inexperienced virgin. Does the writing experience have consequences to the group dynamic, will they actually film and sell it, will they stay friends? Are any couples or siblings part of the group? Are secrets revealed through brainstorming?

Submitted by @567inpanem

Author: JLaLa

Rated M

Summary: “What the hell are you suggesting?” Gale asked.

“I thought it was obvious,” the woman next to him said. “I’m suggesting we make a porno.”

Strapped for cash, a group of friends—plus two strangers—decide to go all out.

Multiple pairings, and of course, Everlark. 

“Hold me up in the palm of your hand Lying to you is a river of sin Your metaphors, your silent calls Your feelings are too real…”

                                                -Live

Hold Me Up

Part One

Katniss closed her eyes as the rush of hot water hit her face. It had been a hell of a day.

Her boss cut her hours at the record store due to the lack of sales. She had done everything short of offering to blow the man—wouldn’t have worked, he was gay—to get as many hours as possible. However, everyone was suffering due to Panem’s economic disaster and Heavensbee’s hands were tied.

All she wanted to do tonight was eat the leftover Chinese in the fridge, binge watch Bridgerton for the hundredth time and use her vibrator until she climaxed to the image of Simon Basset eating her out—

“Katniss!” There was a quick knock before the door opened. “Sorry, but I have to piss like a racehorse—”

She pulled back the shower curtain to the sight of her roommate and friend, Peeta, unzipping his jeans.

“Seriously, couldn’t you do that somewhere else? Like, maybe get a plastic cup or do it in the sink?”

“Last time I did, Gale totally flipped out on me,” her friend replied. “It’s not like you haven’t seen my dick before. You’ve seen it plenty of times, most of the time it was erect.”

The peril of living with two boys was that you always seemed surrounded by morning wood…any kind of wood really.

“Fine.” Katniss closed the curtain. “Try not to be loud about it though.”

“How am I loud while I pee?”

“‘Oooh fuck, finally…I’ve been holding that in all day!’ Katniss mimicked mockingly. “You’d think that you were doing something else instead of emptying your bladder.”

“Honestly, sometimes a good pee is better than sex,” Peeta retorted. “I don’t think that I’ll be able to stop it once it starts so just sing something really loud or you’ll be hearing me hitting the porcelain pretty hard.”

Katniss walked under the shower to rinse her hair and belted out the first song that came to her.

“I got a new life

You would hardly recognize me

I’m so glad

How could a person like me care for you?

Why, why do I bother

When you’re not the one for me

Is enough enough?”

“I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes…” Peeta sang along and Katniss giggled hearing his melodic baritone. “I saw the sign…life is demanding without understanding—”

“We should start a group,” she offered as she turned the nozzle and the water stopped. “Especially since I’ll likely be laid off soon.”

“Oh shit! I’m sorry, Katniss.” A hand peeked through the curtain, holding a towel and she took it, quickly wrapping it around herself. “We’re all taking it up the butt, aren’t we?”

She pulled back the curtain and stepped out. “What do you mean?”

“Haymitch and Effie will probably have to close down with everything happening,” he informed her. “The rent for the bakery space is just too much for them. I mean, we still have our regulars, but they’re not making enough to pay me to make a dozen danishes and scones.”

“That sucks.” Peeta was still wearing his apron around his waist, a red bandana covering his blond locks, along with his usual baking uniform of a fitted white tee and jeans. “I know how much you love that job. Not to mention, Haymitch and Effie are pretty kickass.”

“Well, at least we have Gale,” her friend replied as he opened the door, letting her step out first before putting a companionable arm around her waist. “Old reliable Gale—”

There was a cough and they found Gale sitting on their couch lighting up their emergency joint.

This was bad.

++++++

“My whole department was pretty much eliminated,” Gale explained once he stepped out of his daze. “They led us in, one by one, into that small office and gave us the whole spiel about making cutbacks before handing us our severance checks. This will hold me for about six months of my piece of the rent—”

“This is probably the worst time to tell you,” Katniss started. “But Heavensbee reduced my hours at the store and I’ll probably be getting the boot soon.”

“Effie and Haymitch can’t afford to keep me at the bakery,” Peeta told him. “They’re also likely to lose the business, too.”

Gale nodded, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. “Well, we’re fucked.”

“Now there’s that positive attitude that we know and love,” a sharp feminine voice said.

The three looked up to find the rest of their friends stepping into the apartment led by Johanna, who lived across the hall from them. Madge, her roommate, followed in with a pizza box and the group was finished out with Finnick, who lived downstairs and was—until today—Gale’s teammate.

“Well, we’re fucked!” Gale repeated, his voice hitching up at the end. He looked to Johanna. “Good enough?”

“We’re all getting it,” Madge said, sitting next to him calmly. “The Forever 21 I’m working at is closing. So, I’m screwed, and I won’t even have severance like you and Finnick.”

“I have thousands of dollars in debt over the camera equipment I just bought,” Finnick told her. “I’m supposed to be working on my documentary.” Their friend was a budding director. “Now, I’ll be using the rest of my severance to pay it off.”

Johanna plopped down in their lone seat, putting her feet on the table.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but I’ve been out of a job for months, so your sob stories mean nothing to me,” she said. Grabbing the joint, their friend took a long inhale and breathe out in relief. “The job market is non-existent at this point.”

“God, maybe I should’ve pushed on blowing Heavensbee,” Katniss muttered.

Finnick snorted. “What?”

“He’s gay, but probably not getting any,” she replied, next to Peeta. “If you close your eyes, it feels the same.”

“You might have something there,” Johanna suddenly said, her oak eyes contemplative.

Peeta glared at her. “Not funny. You really want Katniss turning tricks for rent?”

“Hardly,” their friend replied. “No offense—” Johanna looked to Katniss. “—you alone have no sex appeal, and this is coming from a full-fledged lesbian.” She turned to Madge. “She would—with the pouty lips and the big titties. Not to mention those golden locks. Put a little red hood on her and you’ll have those Fairy Tale freaks begging to see what’s underneath.”

Katniss crossed her arms. “Well, thank you for telling me that I’m undesirable.”

“I didn’t say that.” Johanna looked between Katniss and Peeta. “I said you alone would have no sex appeal but put you with him—” She nodded at Peeta. “—or her.” A hand waved over at Madge. “People will pay big money to see that. A nice little ying and yang.”

“What the hell are you suggesting?” Gale asked.

“I thought it was obvious,” the woman next to him said. “I’m suggesting we make a porno.”

++++++

Several beers in, the idea started to make sense.

“Babe, if this thing took off, we could pay off the camera equipment,” Annie, Finnick’s fiancée, said. She had joined them a little after the major freak out over Johanna’s idea. “Also, you could get some experience in handling the equipment and I could get experience with the boom mic.”

“That is true,” Finnick mused.

“Guys, do you know how many different types of porn there is out there? How would we make one that people would be interested in?” Gale asked. His voice had taken on a rough slur, five bottles in, as he leaned against a drunken Madge.

“Simple,” Johanna smirked. “We do our research. This neighborhood is full of not-so-reputable places; it’s why rent used to be freakishly low. We can ask what men and women would like to see. Also, we’re all decent looking.”

“What about the fact that you’re talking about us having sex with each other?” Peeta asked, eyes bloodshot. Katniss laid on his lap, singing along to the music on her phone. “No offense, but I don’t want to have sex with you. You scare me a little.”

“Well, who would you want to have sex with?” Madge asked with a buzzed grin.

“Easy.” Peeta looked at the giggling woman on his lap. “Katniss.”

“Really now?” Finnick leaned forward in interest. “Why her?”

“I’m comfortable with her,” he explained. “We were each other’s first kiss, granted we were only five—but also, she’s seen my dick plenty of times.”

Katniss drunkenly waved her finger at him. “I’m not scared of it…”

“Dude, why aren’t you together?” Annie asked.

Peeta shrugged. “Seemed better to stay friends.”

“Those two are such chickens,” Gale called out. “They just tiptoe…and tiptoe…and it’s all like ‘I think Katniss is beautiful’…or ‘I want to have Peeta’s babies’…and I’m just like why don’t you just fuck already?”

“Fine.” Katniss slid onto the floor and held her hand out, palm down. “We’ll do this. I get to fuck Peeta because everyone is so invested…but we all have to be in this.” She looked at the rest of the group, her eyes landing on Peeta. “Do we agree?”

Johanna placed her hand over Katniss’. “I’m in.”

Madge followed immediately. “Me, too.”

“Fine,” Gale muttered before his hand landed on the pile.

“We’re down,” Finnick said, adding his hand.

“But only as the filmmakers,” Annie added before placing her hand on top of her fiancé’s.

Katniss looked to Peeta; nervousness laced in her grey eyes. “And you?”

He examined her, almost losing himself in her gaze before placing his hand down to seal the pact.

“Let’s do this.”

++++++

“Do you like oral?” Katniss asked the scantily-clad waitress. “Giving? Getting?”

“Yes, to both,” the pretty blonde answered.

Johanna and Gale had gotten to work quickly, both making up the questionnaire that they were using for research. While that was happening, Annie and Finnick put up an ad looking for available actors and actresses to add to their production.

Two days ago, their questionnaire had revealed that threesomes, double penetration, and girl-on-girl were high on the list. Unfortunately, they didn’t know who would be doing what except for Katniss and Peeta.

“And anal?” Katniss continued as Peeta joined her at the table.

“Sure,” the woman answered. “I’m pretty open. Me and my ex used to film ourselves all the time.” She looked at the two. “You two looking for tips?”

“Maybe,” Katniss replied. She turned to Peeta. “Did you want anything?”

“Coke, please,” he told the woman. “I’m still recovering from the past few days.”

“Coke for him and a Lagavulin for me,” Katniss told the waitress.

“You like the good stuff.” She gave Katniss a saucy wink. “I’ll be right back with your drinks. I’m Delly, by the way.”

“Katniss.” Katniss gestured over at Peeta, who gave Delly a light wave. “Peeta.”

She nodded. “Nice meeting you.”

As soon as Delly walked away, Katniss turned to her friend. “What do you think?”

“Decent rack, sweet face, and she has experience apparently,” Peeta replied. “Thoughts on having her on the team?”

“Well, she seems friendly,” Katniss replied. She eyed him. “Would you do her?”

“If I had to…sure,” her friend replied. “How about you?”

“Me and Delly?” Katniss looked to the woman at the bar, awaiting their drinks. She was pretty with wavy, shoulder-length hair and wide eyes. Not to mention, her body was banging—the bejeweled bustier made her breasts look incredible—and her personality was easy. “Sure. Why not? I mean it will make me more…desirable.”

“Are you still pissed off that?” Peeta asked. “Johanna loves to rile you up.”

“I hate that she can.” Katniss sighed. “Are we really going to do this?”

“Haven’t you ever been curious?” Peeta’s gaze fell warmly on her. “How it might feel like between me and you?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “We kissed that one time, but nothing came of it. I thought maybe you didn’t like it…or me.”

“I do like you. I love you.” Peeta reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. “I guess we were just both too scared to explore what kind of love we could’ve had.”

Her arms wove around his neck as Katniss pressed her forehead to his. “I love you and I like you, too.”

“Your drinks, lovebirds.” Delly approached them, a bright smile on her face. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Actually.” Katniss stood up, pulling out the business card with Johanna’s number on it. “I have a proposition for you.”

++++++

“What are your special skills?” Johanna asked as she looked over Delly’s resume.

Delly gave the group a bright smile, her eyes landing on Katniss with a wink.

The group gathered the following day for auditions for the two additional actors at Finnick and Annie’s place.

Currently, Annie and Peeta were reviewing resumes and headshots in the hallway while the rest of them assessed the auditions.

The group had agreed to hold them at Finnick and Annie’s since it looked the most professional. The couple’s apartment was stylishly decorated thanks to Annie’s chic but budget-friendly taste—most of their furnishings from Target and IKEA.

“Can you look into the camera?” Finnick asked from where he stood in the center of the living room.

“Sure.” Delly looked straight into the camera, smiling into it. “Well…I can do a handstand and suck dick at the same time.”

“Can we see?” Madge asked from where she stood next to Finnick.

“The sucking dick part or the headstand?”

“How about we just see how it looks?” Finnick suggested. “Have Annie bring the next male audition in.”

Gale stood from his seat. “I’m on it.” He quickly came back, followed by a tall, dark-skinned man who flashed them all a handsome smile. “Everyone, this is Thresh. Thresh, why don’t you join Delly in front of the camera?”

“Sure,” he said easily and walked over to Delly, holding out his hand. “I’m Thresh.”

Delly shook it, her mouth widening in a grin. “Delly.”

“Okay, whenever you’re ready,” Johanna told the two.

Nodding, Delly bent over, pressing her palms to the floor. Then as she steadied, the woman easily lifted her hips…then her legs…before straightening them, her toes pointing in the air.

“Amazing,” Madge whispered.

Next to her, Gale nodded in agreement.

Katniss stood from her seat, going to Finnick, and looked at the camera’s viewfinder.

Delly and Thresh made a strikingly good couple on camera. They were at ease, chatting as if Delly wasn’t in front of the man’s crotch and at a perfect angle to go at his junk.

“Thresh, any special skills?” Gale asked, handing Johanna the man’s resume.

“I can get an erection on command,” Thresh told them.

“Okay, we all need to see this,” Johanna said. “Someone get Peeta and Annie in here.”

“Delly, you can get off your hands now,” Katniss said.

“Let me help—” Thresh held her hips as Delly eased down. As she did, the crotch of her leggings met his groin, and she wrapped her legs around his to steady herself.

“The perfect standing wheelbarrow,” Finnick remarked from behind the camera. “Bravo!”

Peeta and Annie stepped inside as Thresh helped Delly onto her feet. She smiled gratefully, kissing his cheek before dashing over to where the rest of the group was gathered.

“Even if you don’t hire me, I need to see this,” she told them.

Peeta joined Katniss’ side. “What are we looking at?”

Finnick signaled Thresh. “Whenever you’re ready.”

The man simply undid the top button of his jeans, unzipped, and holding the sides of his jeans lowered them down.

Taking a deep breath, the man closed his eyes, as the group watched his cock—a rather thick one—go from half-mast to full in less than a minute.

“Well, that deserves some applause,” Peeta told everyone and began to clap.

The group quickly joined in, but not before hiring both Delly and Thresh.

++++++

“Okay, two things,” Gale announced, going to the easel and whiteboard that he had set up in their living room. He wrote out ‘Location’ and ‘Plot’. “First, location. Any thoughts?”

“We can’t just do it in one of our apartments?” Finnick asked.

“Would you want to sit on your living room couch thinking that Johanna ate Delly out on it?” Gale asked him. “Or Katniss and Peeta on your kitchen counter—”

“True,” Annie said. “Let’s not shit where we eat.”

“Maybe we can rent out space for very cheap,” Thresh said. “I might know some club places where I work security that might be in our price range.”

They learned that Thresh was a part-time security guard and a returning student at the local community college. He was trying to get his Business degree and planned to open a gym after he graduated.

“Great idea,” Gale wrote down, ‘Thresh-club spaces’. Anyone else?”

“That bar I work at might be willing,” Delly told them. “I might have to give the owner a boost—”

“No way,” Peeta interrupted. “We don’t want you doing those kinds of favors just to get us a workspace.”

“Definitely,” Katniss agreed, smiling at the girl. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“Okay, what about a plot?” Johanna went to the board. “Every porn needs one to entice an audience. Why don’t we do a round robin and everyone says one thing that turns them on? I’ll start.” She turned around and wrote on the board—‘A clean bush’.

“Doesn’t everyone like it to be clean down there?” Finnick remarked before looking to Annie. “I mean you keep it pristine—”

“No need to tell everyone about my cat, love,” his fiancée retorted.

“I mean, I don’t mind it being wild down there,’ Gale told the group. He took the marker from Johanna and scribbled, ‘Bossiness’. “I like a dominating woman.”

“Definitely a good BDSM storyline,” Madge remarked as she walked up to the board, writing ‘Rough play’. “I like manhandling and being manhandled. I worked with this guy and we use to hook up all over the office. Once after everyone left, we were going at it and he takes me and lifted me—” She mimicked her lover with her hands. “—onto the copy machine before pounding the living daylight out of me.”

Everyone stared in shock at the seemingly sweet blonde twirling a tendril of her hair.

“Come Monday, everyone was trying to figure why there were a hundred copies of someone’s bare pussy on the copy machine tray,” she said in a daze.

“Damn—” Gale swallowed harshly. “—thank you for your contribution.” His gaze went to the person sitting next to Madge. “Katniss?”

“I…I…” Katniss bowed her head. She wasn’t thrilled with everyone knowing just what got her going. However, at some point, they were all going to be seeing her being thoroughly fucked by Peeta. “I like…dirty talk.” She shifted in her seat, aware that next to her sat her soon-to-be co-star. “I don’t have any experience, but when I’m…masturbating, the voice in my head is usually whispering very depraved things in my ear.”

“Care to expand, sweetheart?” Thresh asked from where he sat across.

“Well—” Katniss folded her hands in her lap. “The voice will tell me how much he loves feeling his fingers being squeezed by my cunt, how drenched I am around his dick, how he wants to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs…sometimes he talks about fucking me in both holes…his dick in my pussy and his thumb in my asshole—”

Peeta suddenly jumped from his spot. “I’m going to grab some water from the fridge. Anyone?”

He quickly disappeared into the next room before anyone could even answer.

“You just gave Peeta a boner,” Delly cackled from her seat on the carpet. “Why aren’t you dating?”

“Because—” Katniss searched for a reason, finding herself unable to answer. “—let me check on him.”

She found him bent in front of the fridge.

He pulled back sans water and turned just as she stepped in.

“We ran out of water.” Peeta met her eyes fully, watching as she approached. “I didn’t mean to run off—”

“Peeta, what turns you on?” she found herself asking.

Katniss stopped in front of him and her gaze took her friend in—swept-back blond waves, a firm jaw, and blue eyes…hazed with arousal. They never really talked about the fact that they had admitted to their friends that they were curious about fucking one another.

To be entirely truthful, the voice in her ear, the one that spoke such deliciously sinful things—was Peeta’s voice.

She didn’t know when the mystery man had morphed into her best friend, but sometimes the image of him—in his usual uniform of a pair of jeans, a tee, and an apron—would cause a heat that threatened to burn her to the very core.

However, this precipice between friendship and whatever it was, scared her.

So, Katniss held back.

Peeta shook his head. “It’s kind of stupid.”

“I just told everyone that a mystery voice gets me wet with talk of double penetration.”

He laughed roughly. “That is true.”

Meeting her eyes, Peeta leaned back against the door of the fridge.

“I like sex in different places…the element of danger…of being caught.” His golden complexion tinged with pink. “It’s a major turn-on.”

She nodded, toeing in closer to him. “Have you ever—"

“No, just fantasies,” Peeta said. “Compared to the rest of our friends, I’m pretty daisy fresh.”

“Tell me the last place that you’ve fantasized having sex in,” Katniss said. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” he replied, his hand reaching to cup her cheek.

His thumb grazed the corner of her mouth and she resisted the urge to take it into her mouth to taste.

“The bakery.” His gaze fell to her lips. “Specifically, against one of the ovens as it’s warming up and y—whoever and I just get so caught up in the smell of sugar…of rye…and one another that we don’t know where the heat is rising from—”

Katniss suddenly straightened. “Ohmigod…the bakery.”

“What?”

“The bakery,” she repeated.

His eyes widened in realization. “The bakery.”

END OF PART ONE

This will be multiple parts, not sure how many though.

Yes, before you ask, this is loosely based on Zack and Miri Make a Porno which I think is a hilarious movie with some great music.

Speaking of music, the title comes from Live’s ‘Hold Me Up’, which was used in the soundtrack of Zack and Miri. It also plays during a pivotal scene.

Other music used: ‘The Sign’-Ace of Base

I hope you’re enjoying it so far—as if now, I have just completed the second part.

Thanks for reading!

-JLaLa

#jlalafics #567inpanem #prompt 42 #Springtime edition 2021 #submission

[thezebrawlw]

Donna Beneviento x Maiden.

I'M A BIT ANGRY 'CUZ WHEN I FINISHED, MY COMPUTER DID SOMETHING WEIRD AND RESTARTED AND WHEN I LOGGED IN AGAIN EVERYTHING WAS ERASED AND AAAAAAAALSKDFGKJDFKA

Warning: Mild suicidal content // Mentions of sexual abuse.

(A/N): (I'm still studying English, so if I have a mistake, I apologize)

Summary: A maiden arrives at the Beneviento mansion. What will happen when Donna begins to live with her?

(I'll do a part two, because I don't want this to be too long.)

- - -

The day the maiden arrived at the Beneviento mansion, it was raining. The door opened effortlessly. Not even the toxic pollen from the plants would drive someone crazy enough to come close to the house, so there was no need to have locks.

A chorus of high-pitched voices scared the young woman "what are you doing here" "how did you get in?" "You shouldn't be here" "Let's play with her, let's play with her"

The young woman felt scratches on her arms and on her legs, someone bit her arm and pulled her hair hard enough to almost rip it out.

"Please, I just want to hide," the woman yelled.

"You shouldn't have come in, stupid girl" "Now you belong to us"

Suddenly the dolls fell to the ground and crawled back to their places.

The young woman saw a shadow materialize in front of her. It was a slim figure, covered entirely in black, opaque cloth. The figure was carrying a doll in wedding clothes in their arms. It was from that doll that a hollow voice came out.

"You shouldn't have come in, stupid girl. Now you're never going to be able to come out."

"I don't care," said the maiden, "if you want to kill me, just kill me. I'd rather perish under the hand of a noblewoman than die from those hunters."

"You're not worth Donna's time" the doll spoke again.

"If you don't want to murder me, then let me serve you" implored the maiden "your house will always be clean, the fire will always be lit, there will be no dust shavings on your beautiful dolls, just please, let me stay here, Lady Beneviento"

Donna didn't move. Beneath her veil she had an arched brow, confused by her request. The pollen must have made her hallucinate enough to make her say those things.

"Change those old rags that you have as clothes and find something to clean", say the doll.

"Yes My Lady"

"The name’s Angie and the only Lady here is Donna. Got it, muddy face?"

"Yes, Miss Angie"

From that day on, the young woman became the servant of Lady Beneviento.

Working there would be easy if it weren't for the mischief the dolls played on her. If she swept, the dolls would run around the little mountain of dust. When the floor was freshly waxed, the dolls dragged their knives on the wood. At night, the dolls would not stop laughing or making sounds of babies crying. They also watched her sleep, sometimes sitting around her bed.

But the maid never complained, she just looked at the mess they made with a tired smile, as if she was watching little children do mischief. Even if they watched her sleep, the only thing she could hope for was to be killed, but that never happened.

During the first weeks Donna tried to induce the maiden some hallucinations, but it seemed not to work, she assumed that her new servant had some kind of immunity to cadou and by extension to the pollen of the flowers that grew around the mansion.

Donna watched her and evaded her in equal moments. The leader of the Beneviento was locked in her room or her workshop for most of the day, so te only way to keep an eye on the maiden was through her dolls.

It was for that reason that the maiden always walked with a small retinue of dolls behind her, like a mother duck with her chicks. She was used to it by now.

That's how Donna realised that the maid was a very good singer, but a distracted cook. She was thankful that she didn't need to eat, just a drink now and then, because she didn't think she would be able to eat coal with sugar in it.

She also noticed that the maid was an active conversationalist. She talked a lot and about everything. The dolls listened to her and little by little they began to join in the monologue.

The young girl listened attentively and that was how she learned the dolls's names, where they were located in the mansion and what they liked to play with.

Watching her, Donna also noticed that the maiden looked out the windows, a melancholic smile kept on her face when it snowed or when the sun made an appearance.

One particularly snowy day, the dolls pulled the maid to the front door, asking her to come out and play for a while.

"I don't know, I don't think Lady Beneviento will give me permission"

"It will only be a while, it will only be a while", said the dolls.

The maid had never asked Donna for anything since she arrived. Donna hadn't spoken to her either, if she needed something, Angie would be the one to speak in her place.

Then, a dark figure appeared on the stairs. It was Donna accompanied by Angie. The doll spoke for her.

"You can come out"

"I... Am I allowed, My lady?"

Donna nodded. Angie spoke.

"If you promise to stay in the garden"

"Yes, yes, thank you very much, My lady, Miss Angie"

Donna allowed Angie to join the others and then went to her room. From her bedroom window, she watched her servant and her dolls play in the snow. The young woman made small snowballs and distributed them to those who only asked one, becoming the person in charge of making ammunition for the doll's games.

Angie began to converse with the young woman. Thanks to her connection, Donna could hear her.

"Why did you come to Beneviento mansion, mudy face?"

"They were chasing me"

"Who?"

"Hunters. They know that my mother was a witch and that her blood runs through my veins. They are afraid that I'll curse people."

"Would you do it?"

The maiden laughed, a wicked, sing-song laugh.

"I already did it" under her clothes, she showed an exquisite necklace made with rose petals. "The petals of this rose are tongues of the people who tried to abuse me."

In her room, Donna froze. This young woman could be dangerous if offended enough. Would her witchy nature be of any benefit to Mother Miranda? She decided to keep her longer and also to ask the dolls to stop their pranks.

One night, the maiden slept peacefully, too peacefully, so peacefully that she awoke in the middle of the night. It was not normal to sleep like this as the dolls were still making noises. When she lit her room with a candle, she realised that she was alone.

She went out into the hallway and heard sobbing and banging upstairs. She ran to Donna's room and found the dolls by the door.

"My lady?"

Angie's voice answered.

"Go away."

"Do you need anything?"

"Go away."

"I can get you something to drink if you--"

"GET OUT!"

Then a group of dolls armed with knives followed the young woman to her room. She locked herself in and felt lucky to be alone.

Donna's anxiety attack ended around three in the morning, so it was to be expected that she would wake up after midday. She also knew that her attack had caused some dolls to break, so she grabbed Angie and left her room.

She noticed that there was no one in the corridor. Donna looked for her dolls and found them in their respective places, they were broken, but there wasn't a speck of dust on their bodies.

Donna asked if they had returned on their own, but the dolls replied that it was all thanks to the maid. Donna busied herself with her dolls upstairs and when she came down to the living room, she found the maid carefully cleaning the face of one of her dolls.

"You are ready, I will now place you on the table so that... ¡My lady!"

Donna smiled under her veil.

"What are you doing?" Angie, as always, spoke instead.

"I figured you wouldn't be feeling well, so I decided to accommodate the dolls instead. Is... it okay?"

Again, Donna did not answer. Instead, she turned her attention to repairing the broken arms and legs of the dolls, apologising quietly to each one for hurting them.

The maid continued her work on the cleaning and that was the first time the two had been in a room together for more than two minutes.

In the night, some of the dolls still in need of repair talked to Donna, all of them telling her about the maid and how pleasant her company was. They told her that the young woman was a good listener and that although they could not feel warmth, they were sure that her touch was warm because she was almost always in the kitchen.

The dolls also tell Donna that the young woman (they all referred to her as "mudface" thanks to Angie), was very good at playing hide and seek and sometimes helped play tricks on other dolls.

Donna realised how fond they had become of the young lady, so she decided to thank her in her own way.

In the morning, the maid found a small box wrapped in a ribbon. Inside was a pair of woollen gloves to protect her from the cold and a note in elegant handwriting that said "thank you".

Donna looked out of the window at the maid. She was hiding behind a fountain so that Angie would not find her. The day was snowy and somewhat cold, but it was no problem for the maid because her hands and neck were protected by gloves and a scarf.

Both items were Donna's creation. The leader of the Beneviento continued to make small gifts for the maid as a way of saying thank you for the care she took of her dolls.

When the game was over, and thankfully spring was in the air, Angie and the young lady sat down to enjoy the sunshine and make a couple of wreaths.

She finished making one for Angie and placed it on her head, then made a larger one and told her to give it to Donna.

She looked up and found Donna watching her, the maid smiled and waved, though Donna remained still.

The gift was well received by Donna and in gratitude she knitted another pair of gloves.

The end of winter was all about giving small gifts. It was no longer about gratitude, the two women liked to see each other wear or use the gifts they each made.

A flower necklace dipped in amber, a hood for the cold, a jar of biscuits, a flavouring made from pleasant-smelling herbs...

Donna left her room more often, sharing space with the maid. The evenings were quiet, but not uncomfortable. She still didn't speak directly to the young woman, so Angie always had to step in to make small talk.

The young woman, despite her nature, tried to speak little so as not to make her mistress uncomfortable, for which Donna was grateful.

On one occasion they were both in the library, each reading her own book. They were not sitting close together, but within sight of each other. They were silent, until Donna let out a little giggle. The maid couldn't help but glance in her direction, eyebrows arched and a half smile on her face. She had never heard Donna laugh before.

"Are you having a pleasant reading, my lady?"

Beneath her veil, Donna stood still. Angie was playing somewhere and couldn't answer to explain the reason for her laughter, so she just nodded.

From that day on, the maid tried to make Donna laugh more often. Sometimes just making funny comments or other times telling jokes to the dolls, making sure Donna was close enough to listen.

Donna laughed more often and was in a better mood. You could see it in the way she walked and in the new dolls she created. Even in the laughter that could be heard from her room when she was talking to Angie.

But one day, her progress in confidence slipped back.

This is the end of part one.

Part two is here

#Donna Beneviento #Donna #resident evil #resident evil donna #angie #angie beneviento #donna x maiden #fic

[noladyme]

Spencer Reid: Pure Intentions - part 2

TW: liberal use of incorrect legal terms and titles, fluff, blood, violence, misogynistic dirtbags, death, slow burn, hand-holding, angst.

Still working on finding her place in the BAU, Annabel Leigh suddenly finds herself in the heart of one of the members of the team. But is it real, or is she a replacement? A murder-case in a close-minded, very patriartichal town becomes the background for her musings.

2.

Hotchner, Rossi and Blake arrived just before dawn, all with solemn expressions. “I take it, it wasn’t a pretty sight”, I muttered, as I handed each of them a mug of coffee, and Blake a black pen. “It was all I could find. Sorry”. She gave me a defeated smile. “By the time we got there, we had to spend the first hour holding back onlookers; until the local deputies finally got back out there, to take over”, Rossi grunted with an irritated tone. “Onlookers in the middle of the night?”, I said confusedly. “Small town. Not a lot goes on”, Hotch said. “As soon as anyone heard sirens, they were probably already packing their picnic-baskets, to camp out by the scene”, Rossi added.

Spencer was gleefully filling the blackboard with equations. He had chalk all over his cardigan, and I had to halt myself from going over to brush it clean. “You’re having a hey-day”, Blake said to him. “I am! I love the feeling and the sound of an old-fashioned blackboard. It reminds me of geometry-class in high-school”, he smiled. “I can see fourteen-year-old Reid at the front of the class, commenting on every wrong calculation the teacher made”, I chuckled. “Actually, I was ten by the time I finished high-school geometry; and the teacher would usually leave it to me to explain problems to my class-mates”, he replied. “Thanks for getting me those measurements between the bodies”. “No problem. Rossi held the flash-light, while I crawled over them to measure”, Blake said, raising a chiding brow at Dave. “Hey. Italian leather”, he said, and gestured at his shoes. “I thought CSI made them, and gave them to you”, Spencer frowned. “No. Chief deputy Mills sent them home as well”, Hotch said. “How could he do that? It’s a crime-scene. They need to do their work”, I said. “I don’t know how or why, yet. But it seems like he’s doing whatever he can to hush this thing down”. Hotch sighed. “I’m going to call up sheriff Clapman. See what she can tell me”. He walked off with his phone in hand.

“Alright, what do we have so far?”, Rossi asked. “Two the three victims identified were locals”, Blake said. “Garcia’s going through missing persons reports and Amber alerts, to see if anyone matches the last girl”. “I’m looking at the placement of the bodies”, Spencer said. “According to my calculations, they weren’t necessarily placed in a mathematically exact pattern; but I still can’t help but feel like there’s a meaning to how they were found”. “How so?”, Blake said. Spencer placed a print of a picture taken from the scene on the table. “Look at this”, he said, and pointed at the four victims. “If the UnSub just wanted to bury the vics in the sandboxes, there would have been plenty of room in just one of them. He’d just need to lay them side by side”. I went over to look down at the picture with the others. The grotesque grins carved into the teenage-girls’ faces made me shudder. “Instead, he laid Justine on her side, bending at the knees; Amanda next to her, slightly slanted in her posture; and the last two victims were laying in almost a ninety-degree angle, meaning Gabby had to be buried in the other box… The placement is part of the staging”. “Like they were laid in some kind of symbol?”, Rossi asked. “Yes. Or alignment…”, Spencer muttered, narrowing his eyes at the picture again.

He turned around, and snatched a pencil from behind my ear – I’d left it there, during my search for a blue ballpoint for Blake – and bent over the table again. It was quite a suave move, reminding me of one of his magic tricks; and I bit my lips to keep from grinning. “Virgo”, he said, after he’d drawn lines over the picture. “The zodiac sign?”, Blake said. “From Latin. An unwedded maiden…”, Spencer muttered. “So the innocence angle might not be wrong”, Dave said. “At least, if he finished the symbol, we can hope no more bodies will show up”. A distraught looking man and woman came into the station, and I sighed. “Amanda Luther’s parents”, I said.

I took a deep breath, and readied myself; before walking over to meet the couple. I brushed non-existing lint off my blazer, and reached out my hand in greeting. “Mr. and Mrs. Luther. I’m UA Leigh, with the FBI. We spoke on the phone”, I said. The man shook my hand weakly. “We’d like to see our daughter”, he said. “They’re sure it’s her?”. “Yes. Amanda is one of the girls found”, I said; avoiding elaborating with the word dead. Mrs. Luther began sobbing, and her husband put an arm around her. “Then let us see her”, she whimpered. “You want to remember Amanda like she was, last time you saw her”, I said. I held out my hand, to lead the couple over to a quiet corner. “Please, come this this way. An agent will be with you shortly”. I locked eyes with Hotch, who was finishing his call. He gave me a short nod, and waved Blake over to join him. As the two agents approached, I got the couple seated by a free desk. “This is SSAs Hotchner and Blake”, I said, and looked at Hotch. “Mr. and Mrs. Blake just drove for eight hours to get here”, I muttered. The agents both nodded, and took their seats across from the couple. “We’re very sorry for your loss”, I heard Hotch say, before I slipped away; trying to look like I wasn’t hurrying.

I went back to the conference room, and looked down at the pictures. A large hand squeezed my shoulder, and I looked up at Dave. “You good, Abbie?”, he asked. “Yeah. I’m just trying to… de-sensitize to this”, I said. “I love the part of the job that’s reuniting families, and getting dangerous people off the streets. But that…”. I looked in the direction of the crying parents. “All that pain…”. “The moment your heart stops breaking for people, is the moment you know you have to step back from this gig”, Rossi said. “That’s when you’re too broken”. “But I can’t go around feeling horrible all the time”, I said. He turned by the shoulders to face him. “Here’s what you do. You give yourself exactly ten seconds to feel all those things”, he said. “Let it hurt, let your heart break; and then remind yourself what you’re here for”. “To help people feel safe”, Spencer said, looking at me with warm eyes. I gave him a slight smile, and nodded.

I looked back down at the picture, and frowned a little. “What?”, Spencer asked, and came over to look. “These dresses…”, I said. “If the UnSub was trying to infantilize the victims, wouldn’t he have dressed them in something more… childish?”. “Good point”, Rossi said. “These look like prom-dresses”. “Of the risqué kind”, I said. “But it’s not prom-season, though. Where’d he get the dresses?”, Spencer asked.

Lt. Mills was passing the door as we spoke. “Chief deputy?”, I called after him. He halted in his steps, and plastered on a smile. “Yes, miss Leigh”, he said. “UA Leigh”, I corrected him. Distaste shone from his expression, but I continued undeterred. “Is there a place in town that sells prom-dresses?”. “No. Girls usually have to order on the internet, or drive in to Madison on roadtrips”, he said, almost growling the last word. “In my day, a girl would sew her own dress. Not go off half-way across the state, unaccompanied by her father”. “Ok…”, Rossi muttered. “These victims were all found in prom-dresses though”. “Well, the winter-formal is coming up, at the high-school”, Mills said. “These might be the girls own gowns”, Spencer said. “That would make sense if all the girls were locals…”, Blake said. Spencer hummed thoughtfully, and went back to his calculations.

I went in search for a take-out menu, to get breakfast for everyone. On many an occasion, when we’d go to small towns, helping on a case at a local precinct, some kindly person would show up with a box of donuts or a warm breakfast for the team; delighted that the FBI was there to help. In this place, though, we’d yet to meet any friendlies. I received disgruntled stares from every deputy I passed, and though I’d usually not have a problem with asking for help from local cops, right now I was feeling like they’d rather direct me in the direction of the local land-fill, than a restaurant.

A good old-fashioned phonebook lay on the reception-desk, and I went over to scroll through it. A newspaper was laying on top of it, opened to a page of horoscopes. I’d just picked it up, when a plump woman, in a grey skirt going to her mid-calf, and a neatly buttoned shirt, came through the door of the station, and rushed over; pulling the newspaper out of my hands. “Excuse me! What do you think you’re doing?”, she hissed. “Looking for breakfast-options…”, I said. I stuck out my hand. “UA Leigh, with the FBI”. The woman scoffed, and went over to put the phonebook and paper in a drawer. “Well, missy. Around here, we don’t go riffling though other people’s work-areas”. “I’m sorry…?”, I said. “But we have three agents who just got back from working a crime-scene in the freezing cold. I just thought they’d like a somewhat decent breakfast”. I matched the venom in my voice to hers.

“Flora! I see you’ve met miss Leigh!”, Mills exclaimed, coming out of his office to meet us. “Sure have…”, Flora sneered. Mills put a hand on her back, and rubbed it. Had I been her, I’d have reminded him to keep a professional distance. “They’re just not used to our ways”, he chuckled. “Flora here is pastor Collins’ wife. He’s the head of local church”. “Nice to meet you, ma’am”, I said, trying to make nice.

Mills gave me a once-over. “I see you still haven’t changed your clothes”. “Excuse me?”, I croaked. “Your attire might go over fine in the big city”, Flora grunted. “But around here, when a woman walks around dressed like you, one might think she belonged on a street-corner, and not in law-enforcement”. I cleared my throat to keep from growling in anger; and plastered on as polite a smile as I could. “I am not going to go over my wardrobe choices with either of you; but I can assure you, I am always well within the guidelines of FBI-personel”. I was only half-lying. Though I’d never met her, I wasn’t convinced the director would appreciate my own personal dress-code; but if Spencer could get away with converse sneakers, and Garcia could wear pompoms in her hair, I should definitely be allowed to wear the occasional novel t-shirt or ripped jeans. Mills let out a disbelieving, snorting chuckle. “I’m surprised any of the men on your team get any work done, with you parading around in those skin-tight pants”, he said.

I opened my mouth to speak, but decided against it, and simply stomped back towards the conference room; passing a vending-machine on the way. Feeding it a few bills, I pulled out my haul, and went in to join Rossi and Spencer again. I threw the content in my hands on the table. “It’s chips and chocolate-bars for breakfast”, I snarled. “And if you have a problem with that, you can kiss my tight-pantsed butt!”. Rossi snatched up a packet of salt and vinegar chips, opened it, and put one into his mouth; smiling warily at me. “Yum…”, he said, and left the room, seemingly to go join Hotch and Blake.

Spencer took a few hesitant steps towards me. “What happened?”, he asked softly. “He…”. I shook my head, unable to continue. Spencer tensed up. “What did he do?”, he demanded. “Nothing. It’s what he says, and how he acts… Makes me want to shoot him in the nuts!”, I growled. “I should arrest you for even saying that”, he chuckled, making my lips twitch into a smile. “Lucky for him, you haven’t gotten the license for a service-weapon yet”. “Yeah, lucky him”, I muttered.

Spencer caught my hand, and his eyes started towards the door, to make sure no one was watching, before leaning down, and placing a soft kiss on my cheek. Delightful shivers ran all over my body, as his full lips met my skin. “Let me know if he bothers you again”, he said. “I’ll kick his ass”. I let out a bubbling laugh, and Spencer shrugged. “Ok, fine. I’ll have Morgan do it”. “You could take him”, I said. “I know I could. I just prefer using my brain to tear up bad-guys”, he smirked. “Well, you do it well”, I said.

He let go of my hand, and went back to his blackboard and maps.

---

JJ and Morgan were both half-asleep when they finally came in to the precinct about an hour later. Both of them more or less collapsed on a chair each, and I went over to pour them some coffee.

“What did the Howards have to say?”, Hotch asked. “It all backed up what Garcia already gave us”, JJ said, and held up a hand at me. “No thanks. No more caffeine. It won’t do me any good anyway”. “I’ll have it”, Spencer said, and took the mug from me. He had dark circles under his eyes, and I stopped myself from looking to empathetically at him; as we were surrounded by colleagues. “Justine’s room didn’t hold any surprises”, Derek said. “She was as apple-pie as they come”.

Hotchner looked gravely at us all. “Alright. Blake, Rossi and I will stay here, and keep working. The rest of you, go to the hotel and get a couple of hours of sleep. Be back here at noon… That’s an order”. Morgan had been about to protest, but sighed in defeat, and got to his feet. I went over sort some files, when Hotch spoke again. “You too, Leigh”. “But I need to…”, I began. “You’ve been working overtime for weeks, and you’re sleeping standing up. Go to the hotel”, Hotch said. I nodded, and picked up my go-bag, to follow the others out of the precinct.

“It’s actually a motel”, I said, as Derek held the door for all of us to step through. The early morning sun was vicious, and I hurried towards the one of the two cars that had been made available to us. Mills had taken me on my word. Two cars; no more, no less. “Seriously? I was hoping for at least a continental breakfast”, JJ said. “Small town”, I said. “I’m sure they have a vending-machine”. She let out a disgusted groan, and got in the front-passenger seat. Derek got behind the wheel, and Spencer and I got in the back. “There’s one more thing”, I said, suddenly very happy I was in the back, and out of reach of the people carrying guns. I was pretty sure Spencer wouldn’t pull on me. “What is it…?”, Derek said warily. “The local church has a big coming-home service tomorrow”, I said. “So, they only had three rooms…”. “You’re kidding…”, JJ groaned. “Come on!”, Derek exclaimed. “I am not bunking with Reid! You ladies will have to share”. “It’s fine. I’ll take the couch”, I said, smiling at JJ in the mirror.

We rolled up at the motel a few moments later. Wecklenburg truly was a small town, as we could have probably walked the distance. A group of people were gathered outside the motel’s reception, which apparently doubled as post-office; but none of them seemed to be picking up or delivering mail. Instead, they stood studying us. “Does anyone else feel like the circus just rolled in to town?”, Derek muttered. “And we’re the performers”, JJ said. “I’ll go get the keys…”, I said, and moved towards the reception warily. I nodded politely at the onlookers, and slipped inside.

A man in his mid-thirties smiled at me from behind the counter. “Can I help you, miss?”, he asked. “I’m UA Leigh, with the FBI”, I said. “I called to make reservations last night”. “You were my middle of the night phone-call”, he chuckled. “Not often I get pulled out of bed by a call from the FBI”. “You don’t have a night-clerk?”, I asked. “In Wecklenburg? No need. We go to bed at normal hours around here”, he said, and put a form for me to sign on the counter. “I suppose crime doesn’t sleep”. “Sure doesn’t”, I muttered, and put my name on the form; before sliding it back towards him. I looked at him expectantly, waiting for the keys to the rooms. “You’re here about those girls that were found, right?”, he asked, making no move towards handing them to me yet. “Yes”, I said shortly. “Heard two of them were locals, right...? I’ve seen them around”. “I can’t get in to it, sir”, I said. “We will be using the rooms in shifts. Can you please hold on to the keys when we’re not here?”. I held out my hand, but he still didn’t give the keys to me. “You know, I’m also the editor of the local paper”, the receptionist said. “I’d love to get an interview…”. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I really can’t talk about the case”, I said.

Derek came in to join me. “Is there a problem? JJ’s one step away from just sleeping in the back-seat”, he said. “No problem”, I said, raising a brow at the receptionist. “He was just about to hand me the keys”. The receptionist handed over the keys with a disgruntled expression. “Of course. You’re in luck we have I had any rooms to spare at all”, he said. “Had you come a week later, I’d be completely booked out”. “Really…”, I said disinterestedly. “Yeah. I got every room occupied the night of the winter-formal. After a big dance like that, teenagers tend to book a room to finish the night with a…. bang”. I heard Morgan make a scoffing chuckle behind me, and gave the receptionist a final, half-hearted thank you; before stepping outside again.

“It’s so cold out here. Can we go sleep now?”, JJ sighed, when Derek and I came back to the car. She and Spencer were leaning against the hood; both blowing warm air into their clutched hands. I chuckled, and handed Spencer and Derek a key each. “Yeah”, I smiled. “Apparently we’re lucky those girls were killed this week, instead of next weekend”, Derek grunted. “He’s got all his rooms booked out to horny teenagers, planning to get down and dirty after the winter-formal”. “Huh…”, Spencer muttered, the gears in his genius brain clearly working in overdrive. “What?”, JJ asked. “Nothing. I’m just… It’s nothing”, he replied. “Look, I’m beat. I’m gonna hit the hay”, Derek said. “See you all at 11.30?”. We all nodded, and JJ and I headed for our room. Spencer shot me slight smile, and I bit my lip shyly. “Sleep tight”, he said. “You too”, I said, and put the key in the lock. He let himself into his own room, and went inside.

A smell of bleach hit my nose as I opened the door, and I instantly shuddered. JJ passed me, and threw her go-bag on the bed. I stood in the doorway, finding it difficult to move. “You’re letting in the cold…”, JJ said. “Yeah… sorry”, I muttered, and closed the door behind me. Collapsing next to her bag, JJ tugged off her shoes, and pulled down the white covers. “It’s a big bed. We can share”, she offered. “No, that’s fine”, I said. “Well, do you want one of the sheets?”, she asked. “No!”, I said shortly. “Thanks… I’m good with the couch”. I sat down on the couch under the window, and took off my own boots. “At least take a pillow”, she insisted, and threw one at me from the bed. I laughed as it hit me in the head, and put it against the armrest.

My phone vibrated, and I saw I had a video-call from Penelope, so I picked it up. “Hey. What’s up?”, I asked. “What’s up with me? What’s up with you? You look run over”, she said giddily. I turned slightly, so that JJ could join the conversation from where she was perched on the bed. “Called Hotch with some info he’d been asking about, and he said you guys, my fantasy-hubby and Boy Wonder we’re going to get some rest. I still haven’t slept. I’m on my third energy-drink. They’re not very tasty, but momma needs her gogo-juice. Anyway, how’s things…?”. “Garcia… you need to lay off the caffeine”, JJ chuckled. “And the sugar”, I added, as I saw Penelope pop a handful of vegan gummy-bears into her mouth. “And we’re fine”, JJ said. “Just working a case in the deadest town ever”. “And Reid? How’s he? I worry about that precious brainiac”. I held my tongue, and let JJ do the talking. “He’s quiet”, she said. “But he seems ok”. Penelope’s eyes lit up. “Good! That’s good. Maybe this anniversary hasn’t hit him as hard as we thought it would”, she smiled, before her eyes lit up. “Ooh! Maybe he’s seeing someone”.

I felt my cheeks beginning to burn, while JJ let out a worried groan. “That’s probably not a good idea. Not right now”, she said. “Why?”, I squeaked. “Spencer’s good at hiding his emotions, even from himself, sometimes”. “Maybe meeting someone nice would be good for him”, Penelope said. “I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of him while he’s vulnerable”, JJ said. I wanted to speak up, to defend the woman Spencer was showing interest; but as it was myself, I couldn’t. I swallowed thickly, and shrugged a little. “That sounds harsh… I mean, as long as he’s happy…” I said. “Will he be happy, though? If he’s hooking up with someone, just to forget Maeve?”, she said. “Dr. Reid hooking up”, Penelope snorted laughingly. “Those two things in the same sentence sound Russian to me”. “He knows Russian”, I said. Both of my friends looked at me in surprise. “I-I’m guessing”. JJ yawned. “I need sleep”, she said. “Yeah, me too…”, I muttered. “Ok, I hear you. Get some rest, my sleeping beauties. Ttyl”. She hung up the call, and I put down my phone.

JJ laid down, and her breathing soon steadied, letting me know she’d fallen asleep. Even as I lay down, my own rest came slower. Her words lingered in my mind. There was no way I would ever take advantage of Spencer; I was sure of that. But, on the other hand, what is he was vulnerable right now? I had to admit to myself I’d been feeling butterflies in my stomach about him, ever since he gave me that quirky wave, the day we met in the BAU conference-room. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he finally noticed me enough to ask me out, just when he came up on one year since he lost the woman he loved. If I accepted his seemingly budding feelings towards me, would I in reality be taking advantage of the fact that he was having a weak moment? I studied the ceiling, as I tried to convince myself that everything was ok; that Spencer was showing interest in me for all the right reasons. Once I’d finally accepted that the beige plaster above me wasn’t going to give me any answers, I turned to my side. The bleach-smell from the pillow-covering hit me instantly, and I tore the pillow from under my head, and threw it across the room. JJ jostled in her sleep, but didn’t wake.

After what felt like forever, I finally dozed off into a restless sleep.

---

I woke to the sound of someone knocking enthusiastically on the door. “We didn’t ask for room-service!”, JJ yelled, and covered her head with her pillow. “This place doesn’t have room-service”, I yawned. “It’s Spencer!”, he called from the other side of the door. “Go away! It’s only 10.30”, JJ replied. The knocking continued, and she jumped out of bed, and threw open the door. “Henry is about ten seconds from losing his godfather to a stray bullet”, she growled. I heard another door open, and Derek came running. “What’s going on?”, he barked.

Spencer stepped into our room, and began pacing the floor. His hair was especially mussed up from obviously having tossed and turned in his motel-bed. “In a town this small, wouldn’t it be normal to bring an out-of-town date to a big dance?”, Spencer said. “What, like when you brought your cousin to prom?”, Derek smirked, stepping inside himself, and closing the door behind him. “I didn’t go to prom. Marina Sirtis never answered my letter, so I didn’t have a date”, Spencer said. JJ looked at him confusedly. “Deanna Troi in Star Trek”. JJ let out a silent oh, and I let out a soft chuckle; which was halted by another yawn. “It was probably the age-difference”, I smiled. “I guess in a town like this, a change of scenery might be nice for a teenager”, JJ said. “And if the senior class is small enough, and the boy-girl ratio is uneven, you’d have to bring a date from out of town”, I said. “I doubt same sex-couples go over well around here… People seem pretty conservative”. “So, the out-of-town girls may have been planning to attend the winter-formal”, Spencer said. “Sure… But, what’s this about, Spence? Why did you wake us an hour early?”, JJ asked.

Spencer stopped pacing, and looked at the three of us in turn. “Right. Sorry”, he said. “It’s just, all these things pointing towards the UnSub focusing on purity; and the receptionist telling you he was booked out, because of teenagers planning to come here to have sex…”. “Yeah?”, Derek said. “What if the four victims were all coming here next weekend, after the dance…?”, Spencer said. I cleared my throat. “Well, for some teenagers, prom-night – or any other night of a big school-dance – is prime time to have their first sexual experience”, I said. “Exactly”, Spencer said. “So, you’re thinking all the girls were virgins?”, Derek said. “They might have been”, JJ said, finally looking completely awake. “Meaning the UnSub was either trying to protect that fact about them, by killing them before they could have sex; or punishing them for planning on it”, Derek said. “I know I’m not an expert, but I think the stabs to their chests and genitals point to the latter”, I said. “A knife to the heart, sounds almost like a lover scorn”. Derek shrugged in agreement. “Let’s get back to the station, and fill in the others”, JJ said. “First we need a list of the reservations made for the night of the dance”, Spencer said.

We locked up our rooms, and I gathered the keys, to bring to the reception. Spencer and I began crossing the parking-lot, while Derek and JJ got into the car. “You need to stop saying that about yourself”, Spencer said as we walked. “Saying what?”, I asked. “That you’re not an expert”, he replied. “It’s true you don’t have the same credentials or training as the rest of us, but your natural inkling for profiling and crime-solving is better than many an agent I’ve ever met”. I bit my lip shyly, and felt my cheeks burn all the way up to my ears. “Thanks…”, I muttered. “Are you ok, by the way?”, he asked me quietly. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”, I replied as casually as I could. “The sheets in our rooms… They use bleach to wash them; the smell was pretty rank”, he said. “I just thought…”. “I’m fine”, I cut him off. He was being too kind, and I still hadn’t made up my mind on whether whatever was going on between us was real.

He was still frowning at me confusedly, as we entered the reception. The man behind the counter lit up when he saw us. “That was a quick nap. It’s not even noon”, he smiled. “We have work to do”, I said shortly, and placed the keys on the counter. Spencer came up next to me. “Actually, could I have a look at the reservations made for the night of the dance?”, he asked. “Well, I can’t just hand over…”, the receptionist began. “It’s possible that all four victims were planning to come here next weekend. Not handing over evidence could make you look very bad, and possibly like you’re involved”, I said. Spencer stifled a smile. The receptionist shifted uncomfortably, and finally nodded. “I’d like to go on record as saying that every reservation in this establishment, is always made by someone of legal age”, as he put the motel-calendar in the copy-machine by the P.O. boxes on the wall. He handed over a copy to Spencer; who looked over the sheet of paper. “And the 16- and 17-year-olds who use those rooms with the people of legal age?”, he grunted, not looking up. He was exuding confidence, and my knees went slightly wobbly for a moment. “Well, the age of consent is…”, the receptionist began. “18 in Alabama. And aiding and abetting in statutory rape will get you at least ten years behind bars; probably more”, Spencer said, finally looking at him again. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to help us, if we have any further questions”. “O-of course”, the receptionist stammered.

Spencer walked towards the door, and held it open for me gallantly. I was still doing my best to keep from grinning, when we made it back to the car.

---

It took me three phone calls to finally get a hold of a list of the students having bought tickets for the winter-formal. A grumpy looking woman, who turned out to be the school-secretary, showed up at noon to hand it over to me. She’d blatantly refused to e-mail it, and as I handed over the list to Spencer, to compare to the motel-reservations, she stood muttering quietly with Flora. He was blatantly staring me, and I closed the buttons on my blazer; feeling exposed. I’d even put on a t-shirt, instead of the strappy top I’d worn earlier; but apparently, she still thought I deserved being looked at as a piece of trash.

“I’m not in love with this town”, I said quietly, and went to stand next to Spencer, as he hung the papers on the blackboard with blue-tack. “Hmm…”, he said absentmindedly. “The coffee sucks, and the people are rude”, I said. “Uh huh”. “What do you need the ticket-list for, anyway? Aren’t we looking for kids who booked rooms?”, I asked. His eyes flickered, as he went over the names in front of him. I sighed in annoyance. “Spencer…? I’m considering making out with Morgan a bit. Then I might take off all my clothes, and dance on the chief deputy’s desk”. “That would be a bad idea. It’s quite chilly, and you might catch a cold”, he said, and finally looked at me. “And if you’re trying to make me jealous by mentioning Morgan, it’s not working.”. He raised a brow at me. “You weren’t listening to me”, I croaked; unable to hide a pout. “I was. We’ve had worse coffee”, he said. “The list, Doctor”, I sneered. “The school is obligated to list the attendees, even the out-of-town ones. I’m trying to find the name of the last victim. She might have been the one who booked the room”. He lowered his voice, even though we were alone in the conference room. “I always listen to you. Your voice is one of my favorite sounds”. I looked down embarrassedly. “Oh. Ok…”, I squeaked.

He looked back at the lists, and I cleared my voice awkwardly. “I doubt the last victim made a reservation”, I said. “When I tried to get rooms for us last night, the receptionist kept asking me if he could talk to my husband; even after I told him I was FBI”. “You’re right…”, Spencer said. “All the names from the motel are male”. He sighed defeatedly. “I was hoping we’d be able to get some closure for her family. We’re going to have to get Garcia to go through all the girls’ names, to sort out the locals”. “That’ll take a while. Mills might know which are local, and which aren’t”, I suggested. “Good point”, he said. “Could you go get him?”. I nodded, and headed out to fetch the deputy sheriff.

The school secretary turned up her nose at me as I approached the counter, where Mills had joined the two ladies. I’d printed out the ME’s report for Hotch, and he was going over it with JJ and Derek nearby. It was our team-leader’s turn to look like he needed sleep, but he still hadn’t gone back to the motel with Blake and Rossi, to get some rest. “I’ll see you at the service tomorrow”, she said to Mills and Flora, and headed towards the door. “Absolutely, Agatha. Make sure to bring enough of that potato-salad!”, Mills said cheerfully, as he waved her off. “Deputy sheriff?”, I said. “What can I do you for, sweetie?”, he asked. I clenched my jaw, trying to calm myself at his patronizing tone. “Dr. Reid needs you in the conference room”, I said. He smirked, and gestured for me to take the lead. “After you…” he said. I could feel his eyes on my bottom as I moved back towards our work-area. Locking eyes with Hotch as I walked, he raised a questioning brow at me. I shook my head slightly. I’m fine, I signaled with my expression, and he seemed to accept it.

“Miss Leigh tells me you wanted to talk to me”, Mills said, when we joined Spencer by the blackboard. I’d just pulled out a pen from the bun on my head; and nearly broke it between my fingers, in sheer rage at his disrespect. Spencer shot me a wary look, before clearing his throat. “Yes… I was wondering if you could tell me which of the girls on the winter-formal attendee list are from out of town”, he said. Mills reached out his hand at me. “Hand me that pen; will you, sweetheart?”, he said. I gave the pen to Spencer, fearing I might claw the deputy sheriff’s eyes out, if I got within reach of him.

Mills began underlining names, muttering to himself with small grunts. “I see four… no, five names here”, he said. “That would be including Amanda Luther”. “Do you possibly know which young men might have been their dates?”, Spencer asked. “We want to be able to match them with people who might have made reservations at the motel”. “Why?”, Mills asked. “It’s for victimology. There’s a chance the girls were planning on having sex the evening of the dance”, Spencer said. “The UnSub might be fixated on purity; and if the victims were all virgins, he may have been punishing them for wanting to change that fact”.

Mills looked almost disgusted at the thought. “This is a nice town”, he said. “The women around here know not to act like common whores”. His eyes flickered towards me, and I almost blew a fuse. Spencer took a step towards me, and covertly held out a hand to keep me in place. “Still, we need to cover all bases”, he said. “Then have the ME check to see if the girls were virgins before they died”, Mills huffed. “They already checked for sexual assault, and other than the stab-wounds, they didn’t find any proof of it”, I grunted, having looked at the ME’s report, before giving it to Hotch. “Well then, there’s your proof”, Mills said. “They were virgins”.

Unable to hide my disdain, I chimed in again. “Virginity is a societal construct. You can’t do a medical exam to determine if a woman is a virgin or not; it’s not a physical thing”, I said. Mills sighed and looked at me overbearingly. “Sweetheart, you should probably let people who know what they’re talking about handle…”, he began. “Chief deputy, I would appreciate it if you used a professional tone, when speaking to her”, Spencer said. I felt a rush of warmth go through me at his support.

Mills chuckled self-importantly. “Doctor Reid. With your title, and all my years on the force, I’d say we’re more than qualified to have this discussion without this young lady…”, he smiled. “This young lady is a highly valued member of the BAU, and a grown woman with more knowledge of the female anatomy than either of us. It shouldn’t be necessary to inform you of her academic success on top of that, just because she is a woman; but let me tell you, her scholastic success would be enough to impress any man with half a mind”, Spencer said unsmilingly. I was a little overwhelmed at his praise, and if I had to be honest to myself, he was probably taking a bit too far. True, I’d done my stint in school, and made it out with a good record, but I was no near his three doctorates. Spencer continued unabashed. “Leigh’s title is unit assistant, and you may call her UA Leigh, if you have any reason to do so; which – as I believe she made clear to you when we arrived – is only when you have something regarding the case, that you need to share with us”. Mills clenched his jaw, and looked hard at him. “I’ll remind you, that you’re in my house, agent. You best keep a respectful tone”, he said, and looked at me, a sneer on his face. “And you, missy...”.

“Ok, that’s it”, I growled. “Annabel…”, Spencer said warily. “No, Reid. I’m done with this. He is the last person who should mention respect”, I said, and stared straight into Mills’ eyes. “Deputy sheriff Mills. You’ve been rude, condescending and sexist towards me, since the moment I first arrived at this station. I don’t know what makes you think you can speak to me like you have, but it ends now!”. “Miss Leigh…”, Mills began. “Unit assistant Leigh!”, I said angrily. Spencer swallowed thickly, but I couldn’t help but see something like an awestruck expression form on his face. “I will not take any more of your abuse, and you will treat me with all due respect; not only because I represent the federal authorities, that are cleaning up your mess right now, but because I have both more education, decency, and professionalism in my fingertip, than you have in your entire useless being. Now if you have an issue with that, you can take it up with the watercooler, because no one else cares, or can help you; you dehydrated, dense, little toenail!”

“Leigh!”. I spun around, and stood face to face with Hotchner. He’d walked in to the conference room just then, with Derek and JJ in tow. They both looked at me with wide eyes. “Take a walk”, my boss said brusquely. “Hotch, I’m…”, I began. “I said, take a walk!”. He put a hand on my shoulder, sternly led me out of the conference room, and around the corner to a more private area.

“I’m sorry, sir…”, I muttered when we were alone, feeling like the apology put a foul taste in my mouth. I took a deep breath. “No, actually; you know what? I’m not sorry. That man has been nothing but rude and blatantly misogynistic to me since the moment I stepped into this station. I’m not going to…”. “You need to cool down”, Hotchner said shortly. “He just…!”, I began. “You know part of this job comes with being bated and goaded by people, who want to get to you”, he said. “Yeah, UnSubs. Criminals. Not law-enforcement professionals”, I snapped. “I’m not going to let someone step all over my personal integrity!”. “Right now, everyone in this precinct seems to be working against us. We have to look at them as we do all reluctant witnesses, or even potential suspects”, he said quietly. “You think someone in here is…?”, I began. “So far, the profile fits on most every deputy in this place. We can’t know yet. But we have to keep our heads cool”, he cut me off. I ground my teeth and let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not going to apologize. I don’t regret a word I said, even if it does mean you’re…”. “I wouldn’t expect you to. That’s not who you are. But you will have to leave. I can’t have you around chief deputy Mills. You trigger him”. “He triggers me. The man is…”. “I agree. But for now, you go back to the motel, and wait for further orders”. I nodded, and he began moving back towards the conference room.

“Sir…”, I called after him. He turned to look at me. “I appreciate that you’re not like the chief deputy, and I’m grateful that you haven’t just thrown me on a plane home…”. “Yes…?”, he said, gesturing at me to continue. “But, with all due respect, please don’t cut me off at every other sentence I speak”, I said. “Being your inferior doesn’t make what I have to say any less valuable”. I felt cold all over as I spoke; sure, that the next words out of Hotch’s mouth would be; get your ass off my team. Instead, he frowned at me for a moment, before giving me a short nod. “Noted”, he said earnestly. He stood for a moment, looking pondering at me. “Actually. We may be able to use this to our advantage, if we play it right”. “How so?”, I asked.

He thought for a moment longer, and then nodded to himself. “This is what we’re going to do…”.

---

“I’m not going to say it again, young lady. Get your things, and go back to the motel, to wait for further orders!”. I swallowed bile, and nodded with an appropriately chided expression, while Hotch barked at me. He looked at me, as I went ahead of him through the doorway to the conference room again. I picked up my tablet and my work-bag. “Chief deputy Mills; I apologize on behalf of miss Leigh. She was out of line, and will be suitably punished”.

I wiped away a non-existing tear, and gave Spencer a short look. “Hotch…”, JJ began. “Stay out of this Jennifer, or you will be going in the same direction”, Hotch growled. JJ looked visibly taken aback, but as I turned towards the door again, with my back to Mills, I looked at her meaningfully; and she nodded. “Yes, sir”, she said quietly. Mills looked at me haughtily. “Funny how the women on your team seem to think they can speak out of turn”, he grunted. Hotchner nodded solemnly. “Positive action isn’t doing anyone any favors”, he said. “I’d like to make my team out of men actually qualified for the job; but even I have to bend to political correctness”. “That sheriff Clapmann tried to make me deputize females…”, Mills said. “I’m sure that went over well”, Morgan chuckled; pushing out his chest to put weight behind his alpha-maleness. He’d obviously caught on to what we were doing as well. “That woman can kiss my ass”, Mills said. “I hear you”, Derek said. Spencer – having formerly been my champion – took a step back, resigning himself to the submissive beta-role. He didn’t speak, but took on the expression of someone desperately just wanting to keep his job and role on the team. JJ demurely closed up the top buttons of her shirt, and went over to sort some files that didn’t need sorting. The whole BAU-team deserved individual Oscars. “Agent Morgan, please escort miss Leigh back to the motel”, Hotch said. “And have her put on something more appropriate. This isn’t a night-club”. “Right away”, Derek said, and walked over to join me in the doorway. “Once again, I’m very sorry, chief deputy”, I heard Hotch say as we left the room.

We walked out of the precinct, and over to our car. I got in, and blew out a deep breath. Once he’d closed the car door, Derek turned to look at me; his eyes glinting with humor. “Dehydrated, dense, little toenail”, he chuckled. “That was beautiful”. “He looks like a wrung up, dried out old dishcloth…”, I grunted. “And smells like one too”. “You’re not wrong about that”, Derek replied, and started up the engine. “So, what’s the plan?”. “Hotch is trying to build a report with Mills”, I said. “Yeah, I gathered that much”, he said. “He’s acting like he does when doing the same with an UnSub. But if he thinks Mills is the killer, why not share that with the rest of us?”. “He doesn’t. But the lack of cooperation and the fact that the chief deputy claims the town has been crime-free for three years straight, makes him think Mills might be actively trying obstruct justice”. “And we’re on the way to try to prove that”, Derek said. He sighed deeply. “We’re not just working a murder-case, we’re taking on a possibly corrupt chief deputy”. “Not just him”, I said. “How much have you been able to get out of even one deputy since we arrived?”. “Good point”.

We pulled up at the motel, but Derek didn’t cut the engine. “So what are you and I doing?”, he asked. “Finding locals who may be willing to talk to us, about what’s really going on around here”, I said. “Likeminded people”. Derek chuckled. “You two seem to have this all planned out”, he said. “So how are we going to do that?”. “You and I are going on a date”, I said plainly. “And I’m paying”. Derek raised a brow at me. “Feminist date… I’m listening”, he said. “Not only that. Congrats, agent Morgan. You’re gonna be a daddy”, I said. “Ooh… And you without a wedding-ring”, he chuckled. “That’ll draw attention”. “And you may be able to profile the sheep from the goats”, I said. He nodded, an impressed expression on his face. “Not a bad plan. I saw a mom-and-pop diner down the street” he smiled, pulling away from the curb again.

“You know, this isn’t going to go over well with Reid”, he said after driving for a few minutes. “Why?”, I asked. “Seriously? You haven’t noticed?”, he asked. “Noticed what?”, I said, my voice slightly ragged. “The guy’s had a crush on you since you started with the team”, Derek laughed.

I didn’t know how to respond, and instead looked out of the window; trying to hide my flabbergasted expression.

---

Thanks for reading. Remember to comment.

#doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds

[narrans]

A Tall and Small Collection | Soren | WaterWorks

The following days between Ashlynn and the Borrowers were progressively becoming less tense. There were brief conversations between the four of them which went smoothly and let both Dorian and Rey come to terms with the fact they’d be staying with a human for a little bit longer.

They moved from the bedside table to the ground not because they were uncomfortable, but because Soren insisted that he continue to practice and walk on his healing leg. Yes, it made Dorian and Rey a little more comfortable to be slightly hidden from Ashlynn’s eyes, but this dissipated after a few days as they would go on walks in the open with Soren within eyesight of Ashlynn.

Rey, for the most part, felt more at ease than his older brother Dorian ever since his conversation with their human host. Dorian was still skeptical, his father’s words ringing in his ears about humans and their tricks; however, he couldn’t deny that Ashlynn was, at the very least, receptive to Soren’s requests. It was strange seeing his brother, Soren – the one who taught Rey and him to stay away from humans – trusting and defending a human.

Dorian would have been at more unease if his brother showed fear, but that wasn’t the case. Twice during these following days, Ashlynn had pulled Soren to the side to change the cast on his leg. Soren remained completely calm as Ashlynn changed his cast. The eldest Borrower’s injured leg was now a soft cast, definitely an improvement and more flexible than the stiffer material Ashlynn had been using. It was still sensitive and bruised, but nowhere near where it used to be.

At the same time, it wasn’t where Soren wanted his injury to be. The Borrower knew Ashlynn meant no ill will or harm to his brothers or him, but he also knew this couldn’t be how things remained. He was grateful for everything Ashlynn had done; the eldest Borrower could not thank her enough – but this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be.

There were only a few things he could do to aid his recovery however, and they were walking and climb holds. So, Soren spent the majority of his time walking the length of the room near the wall without his walking stick. Each step with his injured leg ached, but it no longer sent a shockwave of pain up his leg. It was a good sign that his healing was headed in the right direction.

There were obvious issues other than the injury in his leg, which were energy and the continuous progression of time. Every few laps, Soren would have to take a break, needing the throbbing in his leg to ease before starting again. The other issue, time, was against him as usual. Soren knew he needed to get better so they could resume their lives back in the walls where Soren would keep borrowing and teach his brothers how to live – where they belonged.

Soren kept his desire to recover rapidly close to his chest, however, so he didn’t let up his brother’s hopes of leaving anytime soon. Instead, he encouraged Dorian and Rey to continue their training by climbing and running when Soren did his exercises.

Of course, Dorian and Rey did their best to help their older brother by walking with him and propping him up using their shoulders to balance when he was unsteady, but this was something Soren knew his body needed to do this on his own – and healing took time.

~

It was one of those days when Ashlynn was working quietly and Soren was taking his laps when Ashlynn’s voice carried from her kitchen table to her bedroom.

“Hey, Soren. Can I come in? I need to grab my headphones,” said Ashlynn.

“Yes, you’re good,” called Soren, noting that Dorian and Rey were currently resting in their box.

Soren had just made it back to the bedside table and propped himself against the leg base, feeling the subtle pulse of his heartbeat in his leg. Ashlynn poked her head into the room, her keen blue-grey eyes picking up his location after a moment of scanning the ground. She saw him and gave a small wave as she retrieved her headphones, but hesitated before leaving, noticing the momentary grimace on Soren’s face before he forced a smile.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.

“Yeah,” replied the eldest Borrower, running his fingers through his lengthening hair. “Just tired.”

Ashlynn sat on the ground nearby, scooting closer after noticing Dorian and Rey weren’t nearby. She had been conscious of their feelings and, knowing they were still a little uncomfortable with her nearby, had tried to give them the necessary space. Yes, they had gotten better over time, especially Rey, but there was an unease inherent and instinctual in their size difference.

“You could take a break,” she suggested. “You’ve been pacing back and forth for days nonstop.” Soren shook his head.

“Not really,” he muttered. “Not if I want to get better.”

“True,” Ashlynn signed. “But you can overwork your body. That’s why you need recovery time and rest days; and you haven’t taken any of those. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“I can’t afford a rest day Ashlynn,” insisted Soren, reaching up and rubbing his eyes. “Not if we want to leave, hopefully sooner than later.”

His mind had been swirling with his worries and concerns that this slip of the tongue almost went unnoticed by him; however, the moment the words left his mouth, Soren wished he could rephrase or take the words back entirely. He wasn’t fast enough. He glanced up at Ashlynn who was already preparing for a rebuttal.

“Leave sooner than later?” she echoed hollowly. “Wow. I didn’t think I was that bad of a host.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” said Soren, attempting to backpedal out of his words.

“No?” asked Ashlynn, appearing slightly incredulous. “How’d you mean it then?” Soren was starting to feel uneasy and took the defensive.

“I just…” Soren’s mind scrambled to think of how to approach the subject. “I mean… that we, my brothers and I, aren’t supposed to be seen by humans, let alone stay with them. Don’t get me wrong! You’ve been wonderful and there is no way I can repay you, but… it’s not how things are supposed to be.”

“Wow! Now you’ve lumped me into the ‘humans’ group. Good to know. And why does it matter if you stay or go at this point? Haven’t I proven myself – at least to you?” Ashlynn shot back. Her blue-grey eyes steeled coldly at Soren’s inability to answer quick enough. He attempted to recover quickly after a beat of time.

“Ashlynn, I know you’ve earned my trust, but it’s not about that. There are rules; rules about us and things we need to do and…”

“And haven’t you broken basically all of them at this point? Really, what’s the point of upholding this set of rules of you’ve broken then already?” interjected Ashlynn.

The hair on Soren’s neck raised uneasily. Was she having second thoughts about letting them go? What was different? To Soren’s horror, Ashlynn continued; and what she said sent his instincts into a frenzy.

“I don’t know. It just seems like a hard time of it when it doesn’t need to be. Gathering supplies, living like nomads, hiding in the shadows like you’re in the dark ages or something. Just… wouldn’t it be easier if you stayed?”

Soren hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath while Ashlynn spoke. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, palms sweating slightly. Soren hoped his younger brothers weren’t hearing this, fearing their reaction. Calm down. She can’t know how this sounds; or does she.

The eldest Borrower swallowed dryly and readjusted his position as he sat. Don’t say anything reckless. She can change her mind at any point in time.

“Ashlynn,” said Soren. Thankfully, he managed to suppress the tremor playing with his vocal cords. “You’re right. It is a hard life; and one that I feel useful in. Being injured has only reassured me that I’m not meant to sit around having things brought to me. This life gives me purpose.”

“I’m sure it does, but…” Ashlynn cut in.

“Ashlynn, there are rules about being seen – about leaving to protect not just us, but all of our kind regardless of circumstance,” interrupted Soren, feeling his spark of bravery waxing and waning with every pulse of his heart. “Why do you want us to stay?”

The question left the Borrower’s mouth before he could stop himself. Ashlynn’s eyes steeled again as she looked away harshly. This made an uncomfortable hollow knot in Soren’s insides. For a solid thirty seconds of silence, Soren feared he may be grabbed before Ashlynn moved, pushing herself to her feet and rolled her eyes muttering, “Forget it,” under her breath angrily before leaving the room.

Soren could have collapsed with relief, but his mind still reeled with possibilities. Why the change of mind? What wasn’t Ashlynn saying? Soren now had the hard choice in front of him – leave and chance not being able to provide for his family or stay and risk being unable to leave ever again.

~~~~~~~

It was a few hours after Ashlynn and Soren spoke. It wasn’t unusual but, after the tenseness of the afternoon, anything was possible and up in the air. Soren was in enough of a right mind to gather up some necessary materials and let Rey and Dorian know where their packs were. Soren also shuffled some emergency provisions behind the electrical cover if the worse case scenario were to happen.

It wasn’t until the third hour that Ashlynn reappeared looking a little bit sheepish and, for lack of a better word, embarrassed.

Soren felt his body flexing, preparing to flee if necessary. He thanked the stars he sent Dorian and Rey into the walls to train their climbing skills on the low beams while he continued to pace outside the walls.

“Hey…” said Ashlynn quietly, making eye-contact intermittently before shying away. Before Soren could initiate the same greeting, Ashlynn stepped up to him, sat down in front of Soren with her shoulders slumped slightly, and continued speaking. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get angry.” Ashlynn’s sudden close proximity to the four-and-a-half-inch person only let him hear part of what she said through the pounding of his heart in his ears, but understood the overall gist based on his human counterpart’s demeanor.

Soren swallowed dryly again as he looked into the human’s softened features. “It’s okay,” he said slowly.

“I get what you were saying,” said Ashlynn. “And I get why you asked me about why I wanted you to stay. It’s just…” Ashlynn’s voice dropped off and, to Soren’s surprise, he could see clear drops of water glazing the surface of her blue-grey eyes which were still averted. “I’ll miss you.”

Those three words set Soren back on his heels. Missed? Him? Soren would believe his brothers or mother would miss him, but a human missing him? After his distrust? Rules? The disruption Soren had caused in Ashlynn’s schedule? All of these things should have had the opposite effect. Or did it?

Soren thought about the questions Ashlynn asked him over the days and the conversations they had. Suddenly, the realization dawned on him that he had indeed enjoyed his conversations with his human host. At first, what was a terrifying experience when he first arrived had become a saving grace – a distraction and something to cling to when he was completely alone.

He understood now – Ashlynn was going to feel lonely. She was asking why he had to leave not because she wanted to keep him against his will, but because the disruption and conversation had become a quick norm – something for her to cling to – and she was going to miss him.

Soren, with this information, felt the tenseness easing from his body. His chest, once clutched with an unease and anticipation to flee, was now heavy and aching.

“Ashlynn, I’m…” Soren couldn’t think of what to say, so he did the only thing he could think to do. Carefully, he hobbled over to Ashlynn’s left hand and boldly reached out and touched it. His mind flashed back to when she had reached out to him, pressing her pinkie against his leg. It was a nice memory.

For a time, it was quiet. It was all they needed. Warm tears threatened to leak over the edges of her eyes and, though unnerving, she reached over with her free hand and pressed the tips of her fingers against his back. While Soren was more certain of Ashlynn’s motives, his body still instinctually tensed. Her fingers were warm and soft. Finally, she pulled her right hand away.

Ashlynn laughed under her breath as she wiped her eyes with her now freed hand with a muttered, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” replied Soren. “I… didn’t even think about how leaving sounded to you.” Ashlynn shook her head.

“No. It’s just me being stupid, as usual,” she sighed. Before Soren could say anything, Ashlynn continued through a stifled sniff. “I… uh… well… Sorry, again. I found something that might help with your leg.” Soren felt his curiosity peaking as his unease began to subside.

“Help my leg?” he asked. Ashlynn nodded.

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I was reading up on physical therapy techniques and I think that if you were suspended and could keep the weight off of your leg that you could keep going for longer. It’s not much, but it could help.” Soren’s heart thumped nervously, but in partial excitement. The prospect of getting better faster and getting back to normal was lightening the conversation tremendously.

“But, how are you keeping the weight off of my leg. Isn’t that what strengthens my leg? The weight?” asked Soren. Ashlynn nodded.

“Well, that’s part of it,” she replied. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but there’s this thing called aquatic therapy. Basically, you have a bunch of exercises you do in the water.” Soren felt the excitement fading rapidly.

“Water exercises?” he asked hollowly. “But… I can’t swim. I mean, I’ve bathed, obviously. How can I do it if I can’t swim?” Ashlynn nodded.

“You wouldn’t have to swim. You just need to walk in the water in the tub back and forth,” replied Ashlynn. “It wouldn’t be too high and there would be things for you to grab onto just in case.” Soren felt slightly uneasy, but Ashlynn hadn’t steered him wrong before.

“Okay… what do I need to do?”

~~~~~

Ashlynn was gone for five minutes or so before coming back and retrieving Soren who, after giving permission, allowed Ashlynn to carry him to the bathroom. He had slipped into a pair of loose pants he didn’t mind soaking in water on and let Ashlynn explain the different exercises and where he needed to grab if he accidentally slipped. She offered to stay and, after careful consideration, Soren agreed.

The tub had be set up as a set of connecting lines connected to the bathtub walls. Each line was at water level so he could grab it easily. There were also odd things in the water which Ashlynn called flotation devices.

She lowered him into the water which came up just below his arms. It was warm and, thankfully, he could reach the bottom even without dipping his head under the water. Ashlynn then instructed him how to stay afloat and gain his footing. Mainly, she taught him that he needed to remain calm even if he plunged beneath the water.

Admittedly, it was unnerving like the first time he saw Ashlynn standing above him. His skin crawled and his heart raced in his chest, but he had to admit that walking through the water kept the weight off of his injured leg. Before he knew it, an hour had passed of him speaking to Ashlynn and walking around and around in the tub.

While walking around in the water, it slowed Soren to half of his normal speed, but the ease of walking combined with the floating sensation made exercise manageable and, boldly thinking, enjoyable.

What was an unease became regular as, over the next week, Ashlynn helped set up the bathtub so Soren could walk around freely. Eventually, Dorian and Rey began to get in on the exercises as well, splashing in the water and learning the value of holding their breath while submerged.

Soren looked out on the scene before him one of these later days in the week. While watching his brothers splash and gain a fearlessness in the water, the eldest Borrower couldn’t help but smile. He was gaining strength faster than he thought with Ashlynn’s suggestion of exercising in the water. His brothers were looking brighter and stronger by the day. Even Ashlynn seemed to be feeling better about the prospect of departing.

There were so many things going in their favor. It felt like Soren’s luck was finally returning. Despite so much fortune, Soren couldn’t help but worry – was there something coming for them? Something Soren hadn’t thought of?

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