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[yugenides]

DIY Personality Test

OC Results:

• Ara: (ENFP) Human Spark DIY • Aristos: (ISTJ) Young Old Man DIY • Corv: (ESTP) Rough DIY • Faris: (ENFP) Human Spark DIY • Louis: (ISTP) Individualistic DIY

[lilian-sins]

“𝐵𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒.”

❥︎ pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir x gn!Ladybug miraculous user!Reader

❥︎ p.o.v: 3ʳᵈ person

❥︎ ch. 2 summary: The news that they were next in line to hold the Miraculous of the Ladybug and defeat Hawkmoth alongside Chat Noir would affect everyone differently. For [Y/N], it came in the form of ignoring the issue all together, if they didn’t think about it, it doesn’t exist, right? But after weeks of lying low and ignoring Tikki’s pleas to take on the mantle of the Ladybug, the teenager finally, after what feels like an eternity, weakens their resolve (and, maybe, definitely, fights their first Akuma).

❥︎ tags: swearing; weird magic headcanons; sorta making fun of Master Fu’s methods of picking heroes; reader is in denial; terribly written fight scenes (i’m sorry); tried writing a panic attack, dont know if its good or not

❥︎ word count: 5,184

       chapter 1 | series masterlist | chapter 3

⟡ ⁺ ₊ ⊹ ࣪ ━━ ⊱⋆ flashback ⋆⊰ ━━ ࣪ ⊹ ₊ ⁺ ⟡

       —“…Are you sure that is possible?”

       —“Yes, if I can harness the souls and memories of the past Ladybug Miraculous wielders, I can conjure up an image of the next holder. That means, no more trusting strangers blindly!”

       —“Hmm... well, alright, if you believe this will work, let's at least try.”

With that, Tikki took a deep breath, closed her eyes and began to hum. It was unlike anything Master Fu has ever heard — something ancient and not of this world. Wayzz, Fu’s kwami, himself has only heard his friend utter it once before — back when they were young and their powers weren’t contained — and to say it was catastrophic would be undermining it. But that was then, now they're a lot wiser, and their unlimited powers are under control — for the most part — so what could go wrong?

Tikki’s little hands glowed brighter and brighter until the energy was released with a flash. The sphere of light rose into the air, growing in size. Master Fu, Wayzz and Tikki all gazed in wonder at the face of the next Ladybug Miraculous wielder.

       —“Is- is that really them?” Fu asked, amazement evident in his voice.

       —“Yes,” the red kwami answered, eyes gleaming with conviction, “I’m certain it is.”

⟡ ⁺ ₊ ⊹ ࣪ ━━ ⊱⋆ flashback ⋆⊰ ━━ ࣪ ⊹ ₊ ⁺ ⟡

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

       —“What. The. Fuck.”

[Y/N]’s eyebrows in bewilderment as they gazed upon the red, bug-like creature in front of them. Tikki, as it called itself, stated that the teen was chosen to be whatever a ‘wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous’ is.

Their face scrunched up as they tried to process the information.

       —“…Okay… what?”

       —“Are you alright? You’re reacting much more calmly about this whole situation — especially compared to my previous holder,” Tikki asked, her high-pitched voice tinged with concern.

The teen snorted, blinking owlishly as they surveyed their surroundings.

       —“Oh, yeah, I’m perfectly fine! It’s not like a flying, comically large insect just told me I was the fucking chosen one. Nothing weird about that, no,” they shot back with a sarcastic edge to their voice.

A brief moment of silence stretched through [Y/N]’s room. They let out a deep sigh, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over them.

       “…I’m dreaming, right? This is all in my head, and- and you’re just a figment of my imagination, right?” they asked, their voice tinged with desperation.

       “I’m afraid not, [Y/N]. This is all real,” said the thing, Tikki, who looked almost… apologetic.

       “…Okay, well then, can you at least clear some things up for me?” they prompted, slightly curious but still skeptical.

       “Of course! What would you like to know?” Tikki flew a bit closer to the teen’s face.

       “Well, for starters, the fuck is a ‘Miraculous’?” they asked, brows furrowed.

Tikki released a deep sigh, bracing herself from this point onward: ‘Oh boy… this is going to be a long evening…’

       

       

       

       

       

[Y/N] shook their head in disbelief, trying to process what Tikki was saying. She seemed really eager to explain things, but the longer she babbled, the more the teen felt their thoughts disconnecting from their body. They didn’t hear what the flying bug was saying until she was quite literally in front of them, a worried expression on her face

       —“...[Y/N]?” she whispered, not wanting to scare them.

That seemed to bring them back, with the teen bringing a hand up, trying to put some distance between the two. [Y/N] wasn’t sure what to even think. They were just a teen, not some hero with superpowers.

       —“Look, this is nice, flattering even, but I really don’t think I’m the one for this job, sorry,” they finally uttered, turning away from Tikki. They’ve just escaped to Paris, and they didn’t want to get into any messes so soon.

Frustration couldn’t even begin to describe what the kwami was feeling, she tried getting more words in, but all of it fell on deaf ears as the teen got ready for the night.

       —“Please, just listen to me, [Y/N] — you are meant for this, you are meant to be Ladybug — my vision showed you, not anyone else, please,” nothing she said would cause any reaction from them.

Though the conversation went nowhere, the kwami was even more determined to make the teen see reason, no matter how long it took. Hopefully, she wouldn’t cause an Akuma in the process.

       

       

       

       

       

Every day since then has been a massive headache, at least for [Y/N]. An entire week of being hounded by Tikki’s constant whining and begging was driving the teen up the wall. If she were completely honest, the kwami was surprised that they lasted so long, she could be quite persuasive when she wanted to be.

One day in particular, though ordinary in every other regard, all of that pleading made [Y/N] reach their breaking point. ‘Kwami of Creation, huh, yeah, right,’ has been a primary thought of theirs. Though, truth be told, the teen found themselves enjoying Tikki’s company, if only a little. Unless she was nagging them, like right now…

       —“Please. Please. Please. Please. Please,” the bug floated around their head, relentless in her attempts to coerce them into transforming. She came out every day when Alizée would leave for work, like clockwork.

And just like clockwork, [Y/N] refused again. Suddenly, Tikki was floating in front of their face, the quiet buzzing sound her wings emit growing louder. She then proceeded to use her secret weapon, the puppy-dog eyes, in a sort of desperate attempt to persuade the teen.

To their credit, the teen really tried resisting the blue, alien-like eyes being thrown at them, but some things are inevitable. A few seconds pass before they relent, throwing their head back against the couch.

       —“Ugh! Fine! Okay, okay, I’ll fucking do it.”

       —“Yay! I knew I could change your mind! Come on! Come on! Let’s go right now!” Before she could get carried away, the teen put their foot down because they couldn’t just transform right then and there, for the sake of staying covert.

Thankfully, Tikki regains some sense.

       —“Hehe, sorry,” she smiles sheepishly.

Shivers ran down [Y/N]’s back, mind and heart racing at the thought of them running along the ornate roofs of Paris.

The day ran its course, and the human-kwami duo were the only ones home for the day, spending their time scrolling through YouTube and eating snacks. As the sun was setting, Alizée came home from a long day at work. She spared the teen a glance and a smile, before making her way to her bedroom down the hall.

When the pair heard snores coming from her room, they decided it was finally time. Tikki’s excitement was clearly visible on her face as she flew straight through the door to [Y/N]’s own bedroom. The teen followed her, closing the door silently behind them.

Taking a deep breath, the teen closed their eyes, not wanting to waste any more time than needed.

       —“Okay, Tikki, spots on,” they whispered. A bright light surrounded them, it faded as soon as it came, leaving the teen covered in a skin-tight, almost uncomfortable, material. ‘Fuck,’ [Y/N] stealthily made their way to the bathroom, ‘I don’t have a mirror... Their heart felt like it was going to jump out of their throat any time soon. And then, they caught their reflection.

The teen almost didn’t recognize themselves in the reflection. Staring back at them was a person covered head-to-toe in a red and black armor-like suit. As they looked themselves over, [Y/N] felt a grin form on their covered face. The most striking detail that the teen noticed was on their face. It was their eyes. They resembled Tikki’s eyes — striking blue hues with dark blue sclerae.

Right beneath their eyes, the teen noticed a dark gray mask covering the bottom half of their face. A pair of goggles were hanging around their neck, the blue lenses connected by a thick black strap. The suit looks like it came from a sci-fi novel: a dark gray bodice, resembling a ladybug’s underbelly, was tight-fitting, with a red chest piece, shoulder pads, forearm braces and knee-length boots. All the red pieces have black spots on them.

They turned around to inspect their back, and saw a big, red, black-spotted lump that rested between their shoulder blades. ‘What is that supposed to be?’ confusion riddled their face. Suddenly, the lump opened up, and a set of large, bug-like, transparent wings unfurled from its confines. [Y/N] brought their gaze back up after they felt something twitch on top of their head. And there they noticed it — a pair of antennae sprouting out from their forehead. The teen reached up to touch one of the ends, feeling it twitch.

The teen smiled, striking a few poses and quietly admiring their reflection from different angles. Taking a closer look at all the details of their attire, [Y/N] notices something red attached to their waist. They took the object into their hands, quickly realizing it was a yo-yo, it also had five little spots on it. ‘Of course this is my weapon,’ the teen sighed, a bit disappointed.

[Y/N] turned to exit the bathroom, turning off the lights before opening the door very slowly. Before the hinges started squeaking, the masked teen slipped through the gap, quickly making their way across the hallway back to their bedroom. They went over to the window connected to the side of the balcony, opening it and stepping through, trying not to bump or knock over the plant in the corner.

The teen stood crouched on the ledge, looking down at the street below. They grabbed the goggles around their neck, putting them around their eyes. [Y/N] stood up, grabbing their yo-yo from their hip and swinging it back and forth, feeling the weight and movement of the seemingly indestructible string in their hand.

Time seemed to slow down as they took a deep breath. [Y/N] swung their red tool out, linking it to a chimney on the other side of the street, and tugged on it a few times to test it. ‘Well, no time like the present.’ With that thought, they jumped, soaring through the air.

After what felt like forever but, in reality, was only a few seconds, the masked teen crash-landed across the street from Alizée’s apartment with a loud thud and a shout.

       —“OW, FUCK!”

Immediately covering their mouth to quiet any cries, [Y/N] looked around to see if anyone had noticed them. Feeling safe, they swung their yo-yo again with a bit more confidence than before. Unfurling the suit’s transparent wings once more, the masked teen glided through the night sky, enjoying the wind hitting their face.

Not wanting to be spotted, [Y/N] made their way directly to the Eiffel Tower, climbing up its structure quickly with their newfound strength and agility. When they finally reached the top of the monument, they felt their breath get caught in their throat, stolen away by an incredible view of the vast city bathing under the full moon.

       —“Whoa...” the teen muttered, removing their goggles and resting them on their forehead — right below the long antennae — so they could see a clear view of the skyline with ease.

The moment of awe was cut short when [Y/N] heard a figure land across them. The teen quickly hid behind the tower, holding their breath and not looking back. They were ready to jump off and head back home when they heard another thud, followed by a sigh.

Out of curiosity, they peeked around the corner and spotted a black figure sitting on the edge. Fortunately, the figure seemed unaware of the alien-like blue eyes peering at it from the shadows. Recognizing the potential dangers of being caught, [Y/N] decided to turn around and go back home.

The sound of something soaring through the air caught the ears of the dark figure. It turned its head back, not finding a source for the noise. It let out a defeated sigh after not seeing anything, its shoulders dropping in sadness.

       —“I’m even starting to hear things in your absence, m’lady. Sigh, this tomcat misses you…”

[Y/N] couldn’t hear the desperate pleas of the figure, they were too preoccupied trying to find their way back home. When they stopped on a roof to gather their bearings, a group of people caught sight of them, taking out their phones and shouting in unison.

       —“OH. MY. GOD! LADYBUG?” the group shouted, taking multiple pictures.

‘Shit!’ The teen panicked and swung away as fast as they could, eventually making it back to the apartment — almost tripping over the balcony railing. Climbing through the open window, they de-transformed and collapsed on their bed, exhausted.

       —“So? Did you like it?” Tikki asked, eager to hear what [Y/N] was thinking.

The teen just smiled.

       —“That was so cool! Though, I’m not too sure about the yo-yo. Anyway, come on, let’s get some rest.” Tikki buzzes with excitement, snuggling next to [Y/N]’s cheek on the pillow. The pair drift off into a peaceful slumber.

       

       

       

       

       

       

       

Another week passed before anything notable happened. [Y/N] spent their days bonding with their loving aunt, Alizée, who helped furnish and decorate the teen’s room to their liking. The relationship between them grew stronger, and the teen felt more comfortable and safe in her home, though some habits were difficult to break.

However, when the sun set and everyone was fast asleep, [Y/N] and Tikki would sit on the teen’s bed, having fun and growing closer. The kwami would explain various Miraculous-related topics, like the history of the Miraculous, her own powers, and the rules the teen had to follow.

Together, they enjoyed a sense of peace and security that was lacking in their daytime routine. [Y/N] even let Tikki have a strand of their hair, which the kwami claimed was for ‘secret purposes’ with a sneaky giggle.

       

       

       

       

       

Now it’s Thursday, a regular day in the middle of a regular week. And it was, at least until a deafening roar shook the ground the Parisians were walking on. [Y/N] was out running errands — they really enjoyed helping Alizée out whenever they could — when it happened.

The deafening roar made everyone begin to panic and fall to the ground. Only seconds after the bellowing stopped, the grounds trembled once more as heavy stomps took over. The city was in utter chaos. [Y/N] could hear children crying, scared out of their minds.

As the teen’s heart raced and adrenaline soared through their blood, they desperately tried to make sense of the situation. Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed over them on top of the buildings.

Some civilians, including [Y/N], looked up to see what the source of all this commotion was, while others panicked and ran for cover. Some hid in stores, some fled to their homes, and some huddled together in groups, too overtaken by fear to act.

Before they even noticed, the monster came into full view, revealing a stark white reptilian beast towering over everyone.

The teen looked around, looking for a hiding spot to get to, before they heard something. A few feet in front of them, a mother and daughter were hugging as they were about to be crushed under the massive foot of the reptile. [Y/N]’s body moved without a second thought — almost instinctively — running towards the pair as fast as they could. When they were close enough, the teen jumped for them, pushing the woman and her child out of the way.

The older woman looked back at the teen, holding her wailing child close to her. She mouthed a silent thank-you to them before running away. [Y/N] almost forgot where they were before they turned back to look at the clawed, scaly foot coming down on them this time.

They covered their head, preparing for the worst, but it never came. Instead, the giant monster yelled and moved its foot away from them. Peeking their eyes out from behind their forearms, the crouching teen noticed a black, leather-clad figure right in front of them. ‘This must be Chat Noir...’  [Y/N] thought as they brought their hands down.

Chat Noir looked back, looking at you with a concerned expression. His silver staff retracts back into its original size and is placed behind the cat-themed hero’s back. [Y/N] stared at him, even as he extended his hand out to them, before they took it and got up. The two gazed into each other’s eyes, both under a strange haze; the two teens felt a tightness in their chests. It went away quickly, and the leather-clad hero straightened his back and spoke.

       —“Are you alright?” Chat asked, voice brimming with concern, green slitted eyes fleeting over them, looking for any injuries.

       —“I- I’m fine. Just shaken up,” the teen’s trembly hands were proof of that.

       —“Well, do you think you can get back home on your own? I’m kind of preoccupied with a lizard infestation,” he said, pointing behind him, where more destruction could be seen.

Instead of answering verbally, [Y/N] nodded. That was all the hero needed, apparently, as he gave them a smile — it made the weird tightness in their chest come back — before he turned, grabbing his staff and extending it again, jumping away.

[Y/N] stood in place for a second before they felt something jabbing into their side. Glancing down, the teen noticed Tikki already looking up at them.

       —“C’mon! Let’s go hide!”

They scrambled to get somewhere hidden, finding an alleyway and crouching behind one of the dumpsters. Tikki flew out of [Y/N]’s bag.

       —“I- What the fuck was that thing?” The teen held their chest — their heart beating faster than normal — trying to control their breathing.

       —“[Y/N]? Are you sure you're okay?” The kwami flew closer to the teen’s face, touching their cheek with her small limb.

They slid down the brick wall, hand still clutching their chest, as their breath became shaky and ragged, as if they’d run a marathon. Their eyes were looking straight past Tikki, not really focused on anything.

Loud ringing could be heard, though it only seemed to bother [Y/N]; they suddenly brought both their hands to cover their ears harshly, tears welling in the corners of the distraught teen’s shut eyes. Quiet, strained whimpers kept escaping their lips.

Tikki thought they looked like a wounded baby deer — scared and vulnerable. She flew down, perched on the teen’s shoulder, and rested a hand on their neck — that was really all she could do.

The kwami continued to reassure [Y/N], and a little while later, they finally stopped shaking. The teen looked at their little red companion with a determined look as they stood up, rolling their shoulders back.

       —“Okay, let's do this.”

       

       

       

       

       

All Chat Noir could think of right now was not letting his lunch come back out the wrong side. He was being swung around by ginormous, scaly reptile paws and thrown through the air. You’d think that after half a year of working alone, he’d be more efficient at this whole thing. And you’d be right; today was just... not his day, to say the least.

The terrified screams and reassuring words from the Parisians below all mixed into a disorienting white noise that Chat couldn’t do anything about. As he was being lifted to the Draken’s face, rows upon rows of sharp, yellowy teeth could be seen. The feline hero shut his bright green eyes tight, silently preparing for his doom. ‘This really is it... I’m so sorry, m’Lady.’

       

       

       

       

       

       —“HEY, UGLY!” A voice cut through the air, loud enough to get the attention of everyone, “Let the cat-boy go!”

There, on the roof of a tall building — eye-level with the scaly, white beast — stood a figure, shadowed by the warm afternoon sun hitting its back.

Murmurs ran through the crowd like wildfire. The figure grabs something from its hip and spins it fast, a familiar pink glow appears from the whizzing of the object.

       —“Whoa, who is that?”

       —“Is that Ladybug?”

       —“HA! I told you she would come back!”

The figure paid no mind to the crowd, keeping their gaze on the giant in front of them — more specifically, the bright purple butterfly outside that suddenly appeared over its face. It seemed to make the large beast stop in its tracks, like it was under a spell. But there was no time to think about that; there were civilians and a stray cat in danger.

       —“Oj, scale-face! I’m talking to you!” The red figure took a running start and jumped off the roof, spreading large, transparent wings out from their back.

That seemed to bring the creature out of its trance-like state — the glowing outline had disappeared by now — letting out a deafening roar, black smoke pouring out of its unhinged mouth.

Now that the sun wasn't blocking their view, everyone could see someone akin to the iconic red and black-spotted heroine Paris has come to love and mourn the loss of. Though, the voice and mannerisms should’ve given them away sooner, this was definitely not Ladybug, at least not the Ladybug people know.

The spotted figure zipped straight for the overgrown lizard, effectively — if only a bit clumsily, as if this were their first time — dodging its flailing limbs. They flew straight towards its open mouth, quickly grabbing the black-leather-clad hero before he could become lizard food.

The two escaped narrowly, [Y/N] setting Chat Noir down on one of the flat roofed buildings, behind the roof access room, hiding them from the beast’s line of sight.

       —“Are you alright?” the teen asked, unknowingly repeating his first words to their civilian self.

Wherever his mind went, it came back to his body right at that moment. He glanced at the face of his savior, covered with a black face mask and goggles, hiding every part of their face apart from their eyebrows. The short hairs were furrowed, and no doubt a concerned expression decorated the face beneath the disguise.

       —“I- Yes… Who are you?” His gaze held so many emotions, like confusion but mostly distrust.

       —“Y’know, I never gave it much thought before, ask me again when we take Godzilla over there down, ‘kay?” Apparently, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting, [Y/N] could almost imagine a giant question mark floating on top of his head.

       —“So... you have a plan?” He was still staring, the fight clearly not on the forefront of his mind. His lack of answer perpetuated the awkward silence: “... Right, so, ahem, do you know where the Akumatized object is?”

He finally got over it, if only for the time being.

       —“Yeah, there’s a gem lodged into the back of his neck, I tried getting it, but I got caught.”

       —“Well then, how about we try that again? C'mon, I’ll go and distract it while you destroy the thing!”

[Y/N] raised their goggles slightly over their eyes, winking at Chat Noir, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the alien-esque blue eyes that were hiding underneath the lenses. They prepared to take another running start, spreading their wings, before remembering something.

       —“OH! Before I forget, sorry, this is my first time doing this,” they took their yo-yo from its resting place on their hip and throwing it in the air, “Lucky Charm!”

The red polka-dotted sides spun around as it glowed before it came back down, leaving a small object where it was. The item dropped into the gloved hands; it was a red ice pick with a black dot pattern all over it, quite on brand with the ladybug theme. [Y/N] turned it around, looking it over closely, then grasped it tightly and returned to their previous position.

       —“Okay, are you ready? ‘Cause I’m not,” the teen chuckled, pulling their goggles back over their eyes, running and jumping off the roof, heading straight for the scaly monster.

The cat-eyed hero stood in place for a second, his mind still lagging behind. He shook his head, getting out of his stupor, and hardened his gaze, focusing on completing the mission. He would ask questions later.

He stood still for a while, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike the Draken. He kept his gaze mostly on the spotted hero, distracting the beast by zipping around with their large wings, evading its grasp. Maybe he was watching them because he was worried they would get caught and hurt, or maybe he was judging them because ‘Ladybug wouldn't have come up with such a primitive plan’.

By now, the Draken's back is turned away from Chat, letting him get a clear view of the icy blue gem, the same color as its eyes, embedded into the back of the beast's neck, surrounded by glistening white scales.

Taking the opportunity to strike, Chat Noir extended his staff, letting it carry him to land on the lizard’s back. He landed a bit below where the gem was, so he gripped onto whatever space he could and began to climb. However, the beast’s thrashing and flailing around made it quite hard to do. The green-eyed hero inched his way towards the glittering jewel, hanging on to a few looser scales to not fall off.

He raised his hand, preparing to strike, “Cataclysm!” A black, void-like mass bubbled around his right hand. Chat pressed his hand onto the gem, watching as it began to crack and turn a deathly gray. Soon it stopped, and a glowing purple butterfly squeezed its way out of the cracks, trying to fly away. But before it could, Chat caught it in a strange, dark metal canister, not giving the insect a chance to escape. As the butterfly no longer powered it, the large lizard became covered in a dark, almost black, purple, tar-like liquid. And then it disappeared, leaving a man, who looked to be about mid 20’s, to fall to his death.

Of course, seeing this, both heroes couldn’t let that happen, jumping into action to catch the young adult, before he could become one with the cracked concrete.

[Y/N] made it first, their wings gave them a stark advantage in situations like this, grabbing the man midair and gently landing him on the ground. The teen removed their goggles, letting them rest around their neck, and looked over the hunched person for any injuries. Thankfully, they found none, so they awkwardly patted his shoulder, making him look up.

He looked frazzled, as if his mind was a couple of minutes behind, trying to catch up to the rest of his body. He looked at the gloved hand on his shoulder and moved his gaze up to his savior’s face. The man was met with dark blues, glazed with concern.

He paid no mind to it, rushing into the hero’s arms and burying his head in the crook of their neck. It was a bit uncomfortable, both because their armor is very rigid and not soft at all and because they weren’t expecting it, obviously. Nevertheless, the teen hugged back, if only a bit stiffly.

       —“Thank you! Thank you so much!” The man cried out, tightening his hold around them. He hiccuped, “I’m so sorry, for all of this. I- I just- my emotions got- got the best of me.”

He pulled away after a while, the teen now looking behind him to see Chat Noir staring them both down. Freezing under his gaze, the teen felt the third tightness in their chest return, all because of his eyes. But his gaze didn’t hold that same feeling — it was cold for some reason.

Not wanting to dwell on it, [Y/N] turned their unusual eyes back down at the man. Finally, they took a closer look at him; he was quite short — though that didn’t mean much, as the teen noticed they towered over most of the crowd, apart from Chat Noir, in this form — and gaunt, with heavy bags under his brown eyes. He was clearly dressed for work — unless business casual was his regular style — with a white collared shirt underneath a blue plaid sweater vest, paired with light brown slacks and matching loafers. His wavy brown hair was styled professionally — now a bit mussed from falling in the air.

       —“Hey, you’re okay. What’s your name?” The teen asked awkwardly, smiling more with their eyes, as their mask covered the bottom of their face.

       —“A- Arthur Gallo,” he spoke, still clearly in shock from his situation. [Y/N] patted his back lightly and reassured him, “Well, Arthur, whatever happened that caused this, it isn’t your fault, you were just pushed to your limit, and that's okay.”

The teen turned to fly away before stopping suddenly.

       —“OH! Before I forget,” they grabbed the ice pick from its resting place on their hip — it was quite useless in their plan, but Tikki did say to have it on hand, just in case — throwing it up in the air, shouting, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The spotted pick disappeared in a bright, pink flash of light, and thousands of ladybugs flew around the area, fixing and rebuilding all the destruction caused under the butterflies influence. The little insects surrounded the two heroes and Arthur before shooting up into the sky and dispersing out of sight.

Civilians around the area cheered loudly, and reporters popped up in front of the trio, asking questions upon questions and shoving cameras in their faces. [Y/N] ignored them, turning to face Chat Noir, whose gaze never left them. Suddenly, he spoke.

       —“Ladybug would’ve come up with a much better plan.”

The teen’s expression quickly fell in confusion; you didn’t even need to see the bottom half of their face to see it. Their brows furrowed, and they spoke cautiously.

       —“Yeah, well, I’m not good with plans in general, and I’m not Ladybug.”

       —“Yeah, I can tell,” he huffed, turning around and extending his staff, jumping away, probably to detransform.

‘What the fuck is his problem,’ [Y/N] thought to themselves bitterly, their mood dampened by their ‘partner’s’ cold behavior. They turned back to Arthur, who was still standing next to them, looking awkwardly to the side.

       —“You can make it back home on your own, right? I kind of have to go,” [Y/N] said, pointing to their beeping earrings, only 3 of the 5 spots were left. He nodded, and the teen went to walk away before the man suddenly grabbed their hand, “WAIT!”

       —“Yes?”

       —“Please, what’s your name?”

       —“I- hmm,” [Y/N] thought for a second.

They knew they weren’t Ladybug, and they didn’t want to take on her name out of respect — and something in their head told them that if they did, a certain feline would dislike them even more. All they knew was that they were up for the task; to help Paris and the rest of the world from Hawkmoth, they knew that they had to have a strong, powerful name that would make people feel safe. [Y/N] took a breath, pushing their shoulders back with a more confident expression in their eyes.

       

       

       

       

       

       —“Red Beetle, my name is Red Beetle.”

Arthur let go of their hand — a grateful expression on his face — and thanked them. The newly named hero turned away from him, grabbed their yo-yo and swung away.

       chapter 1 | series masterlist | chapter 3

❥︎ author's note: I’ve written and rewritten this so many times, I feel like I’m losing my mind, anyways hope you enjoy! Also so sorry for the long wait, I really wanted to post this back in September, but school started and killed my motivation. I have chapter 3 as bulletpoints, but I’m not making any promises to post it any time soon :(

❥︎ series taglist: @leafanonsforest @ok-boke @they2luv1naia @mytaiyakeylover (if you wanna get added, lmk!)

❥︎ posted: 2023 | 11 | 19

[vivalabunbun]

Late Spring Blooms

Summary: Not even one word had been spoken between the two of you

Word Count: 5.1K (this was supposed to be short...)

Tags: Alhaitham x gn! reader, slow burn, fluff, just a lot of fluff, slight angst, Akademiya setting, toxic academia environment, mentions of bullying, both of you are students, mutual pining, when you just stare at your crush for like 4 years but never talked to them. 

Authors note: This was supposed to be a short feel-good fic, but I guess my brain just wanted to be a nerd. So I included some scientific theories that are kinda in debate, I just gave it my best shot. I write fiction not peer reviewed studies please forgive any mistakes

“A voltage is applied to two electrodes immersed in a solution of heavy water…”

All throughout the lecture hall there were the frantic movements of quills as desperate hands penned down every word that left the lecturer’s mouth. The fluttering of paper as students rushed to continue recording every detail, spurred by the fear of a question on exams yet to be announced. 

Rather than immerse themselves in the lecture, they’d rather save the details for a stressful night before said hypothetical exam. Frankly, it was a waste of time. 

“When the SuperWave Principle is applied, with raising and falling nested oscillations…”

Yes, this is a waste of time. A waste of his time. Alhaitham’s notebook and quill remained untouched on the desk in front of him. This course was nothing more than an elective to him, it had nothing to do with his own darshan. A class his late grandmother had listed in her well wishes to her grandson. However, Alhaitham would much rather prefer to be reading in the House of Daena. 

“And that is the discovery behind cold fusion energy production. This achievement rewarded me with much academic praise and my position as a researcher. As it innovated a new path for clean and unlimited energy. Thank you.” 

Applause erupted in the lecture hall, hands clapping together as forged looks of amazement masked ulterior motives. Alhaitham remained still, bored eyes continuing to observe the scholarly man as he stood at the podium. Even from the ashen-haired student’s perch among the upper seats, he can still see the swell of pride in the elder scholar’s chest. As the sea of green uniforms finally abated their praise, the professor step up to the podium. 

“Are there any questions for our honored guest lecturer?” 

The once bustling mob stilled. No quills moved, no papers rustled, and not a single student dared make eye contact dreading the thought of an unintentional invitation to speak. Of course, this was all expected. After all, which person would dare expose their own shortcomings? 

Each and every person in the room was once praised to be la crème de la crème, the cream of the crop, the valedictorians that spoke prepared speeches to their peers they viewed as mediocre. They were all once the top one percent, showered with empty words such as ‘talented’ and ‘gifted’. However, at the Akademiya, where the best of the best had been vetted and admitted. How can everyone be that ‘one percent’? 

It’s a simple answer. They can’t. Instead of spirits learning humility, they were crushed under the realization of reality. And just like a curious hand that had reached out towards a burning stove, their egos wounded and withdrew. If they cannot stand among the few slots at the top, then they’d rather hide among the ninety-nine percent. Listlessly carried by the flow of life, throwing their hands up to ‘fate’. 

Once again, as Alhaitham’s bored eyes surveyed the room, he is reminded why he had put off attending the Akademiya until recently. It was quite ironic for such an esteemed institution to have such pathetic levels of academic spirit. People didn’t come here to learn, they came here to ‘know’ and for a decorated piece of paper to hang on their walls.

However, on the basis of the last part, Alhaitham saw himself as no different. This was a crucial stepping stone in the preplanned path he laid out for himself. Even if it was tedious, it must be done. 

From the still crowd, one lone hand raised above, peeking out from the sea of green berets. It seems that even the professor didn’t anticipate this as a wrinkled hand gestured for the young budding scholar to speak. 

“I’m amazed by your discovery, sir. However, does it really work? I don’t think I’ve seen a recreation of your experiment.” 

The air in the lecture hall stilled, as hundreds of eyes honed in on the gear that dare squeak. The ego is quite fragile, and there is a positive correlation between the fragility of one's ego and the higher up their position is on the hierarchy. The scowl that formed on the guest’s face was predictable, as his haughty eyes glared at the fresh-faced student. 

“It seems that some people are suffering from selective hearing, or perhaps you just couldn’t grasp the concepts I’ve spent the past two hours explaining.” Offense drip off of every word. 

“But, according to standard practices, an experiment has to be rep-”

“Did the Akademiya just allow anyone in this year? My theory and discovery have already been entered into the akasha. Even a child can see the validity of my research.” The lecturer tapped one finger rapidly against the solid wood of the podium. 

“Still, I beli-”

“Did you not hear me? My research has already been entered into the akasha.” He snapped, the peak of the microphone rang through the air. 

“Sir, I-”

The professor raised his hand to silence the student, putting an end to this sorry excuse of an academic debate. The student’s figure sunk down in their seat, their seat neighbors scooting away as if there was something contagious. The show that had piqued the ashen-haired scholar’s interest had been abruptly halted. What a pity. 

“Can you believe them? Who would ask such a stupid question?” 

“‘Does it work?’, it’s been entered into the akasha for archon’s sake!”

“If I were them, I’d never show my face again at the Akademiya.”

Mindless gossip made his ears ring as a sigh left his lips, snapping the book closed in his hand. Alhaitham thought it was an unspoken rule that one must be silent in the House of Daena, guess common courtesy isn’t practiced much anymore. Carrying the book in one hand as he swung his bag over his shoulder he exits the library doors. 

His academic journey at the Akademiya had only begun about a month ago with the start of a new semester, but he was already bored. Lectures dragged the same material on for days. Professors gave their unessential anecdotes to slip in their own self-praises, and the busy work they called assignments. 

However, the worst part, for Alhaitham, was how his fellow students and aspiring scholars accepted everything. Sitting there in their seats back straight, hands busy creating a transcript of the entire lesson. Heads politely nodding as if they understood everything even though confusion was clear in their eyes. There were no academic discussions occurring in classes, and there were no attempts to encourage them. 

What’s the point when everyone could just use the akasha for answers? It’s quite depressing to see such a lack of academic spirit.

Alhaitham has decided that he should return back to his own method of self-studying, just as he has done before. He can cut out the unnecessary material and focus on subjects that interest him. Paying the tuition just to learn everything on his own, is truly ironic. 

However, as Alhaitham walks towards the empty pavilion he has to admit he is grateful for the facilities available at the Akademiya. It was a secluded space, quiet and away from chattering groups, students chasing after mentors and professors with half-heartedly written theses, and scholars’ boastful comments on the results of their experiments. Just as he rested his back against a pillar of the pavilion, he heard a muffled whimper. 

Tsk, great, there’s someone here already. Alhaitham readjusted his bag on his shoulder, pushing off the pillar as he began his search once more for undisturbed peace. His teal eyes couldn’t help but wander toward the source of the sound. Sight landing on your crouched figure obscured by the thick trunk of the tree just behind the white structure. For a brief moment, your eyes locked with his, before you jolted your head away from his direction. 

Cheeks stained with tears and face burning with shame. Yes, there is a famous saying that tends to ring true: The nail that stands out will get hammered. He recognizes you as the hand that dare raise a question. 

Everyone at the Akademiya is fueled by their own self-interest, whether it be for greater knowledge, a higher future position at the institution, or to have their name printed on an accredited research project by a renowned scholar.

Weak egos tend to rally under bigger ones, feeding the latter with empty praises in hopes of a return on their investments. If they could find a footing that allows them to climb up the stairs of the hierarchy, then they were willing to step on anyone. 

You just recently have been labeled as such, a stepping stone in order to get closer to a certain researcher. Tearing you down to build the bridges of connection with the reputable graduate. It was low-hanging fruit. How could a naive, freshly admitted student go against a published scholar with wealth and status? 

You were the losing dog in this race. And yet, Alhaitham still wanted to applaud you, if not for your academic spirit then for your courage. However, it is clear from the way you were trying to make yourself as small as possible, you needed your privacy. 

He focused his eyes on the path ahead of him, leaving the secluded space, his lips won’t speak a word of this event. A little further down the path, teal eyes shifted back behind him. Your hands were wiping the tears out of your eyes as you blinked, perplexed by the sudden appearance of a neatly folded green handkerchief. Alhaitham sees it as a fair trade for piquing his bored mind. 

“Excuse me, do you have a translation of the book: Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices?” 

A familiar voice shifted Alhaitham’s attention away from the text he was translating, perhaps his mind took it as an excuse for his eyes to take a break from the barely legible script. You would think with all the funds the Akademiya had, they would be able to provide students with good-quality copies, but the printed assignment in front of him disproves that notion. It’s not good to strain the eyes. 

Once more teal eyes landed on your figure, back straight and head still held up high. You have more courage than Alhaitham originally thought. Despite the mocking sneers that have been thrown your way in the halls, you’ve just faced forward and continued down your way. Currently, you were asking for the assistance of a disinterested librarian. 

She brings one hand up to her akasha terminal, eyes lazily gazing at the information that flowed in front of her. Then after less than two minutes of searching, she stops. 

“No. Never heard of it. It’s not in the system.” 

“It’s an old title, but according to the library catalog, it should-”

“Did you not hear me? I just checked the akasha and it says it’s not here. Maybe you should make use of that terminal collecting dust on your ear before you come wasting my time.” The librarian cut you off rudely. Readjusting the green beret on her brown hair before she turned her back on you.   

The hand you reached out towards her drops to your side, your shoulders slouched a bit. There were now peering eyes focused on you, stressed students viewing your embarrassment and dejection as a welcomed dose of entertainment. Taking a deep breath you quickly made your way back in the direction of the dusty library catalog. Determined to find that book. 

The librarian had stated a blatant lie, how does Alhaitham know? The book Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices was right under his resting elbow.

You were right, it is an old book, so old that it seems that someone had forgotten to input it into the updated database of the akasha. Or maybe someone removed it, deeming it no longer academically relevant. His elbow was now resting on the book he had just finished hours earlier, it was a better use of his time than attending mindless lectures. 

You seemed busy flipping through the pages of the library catalog, and the script in front of him is due tomorrow. He’ll finish his assignment, it's the least he could do to just ensure his passing of a class that hasn’t seen his face for some time now. 

–

It was late now, your eyes were beginning to droop head nodding back and forth. You shook your head, desperately trying to fight off sleep, eyes peeled on the text in front of you. Your attempts to find the book had been fruitless, but you were able to find different academic journals that substituted the same subject.

You didn’t need sleep, you needed to satisfy that itching feeling inside your mind. That inkling that what that lecturer had said was… the words in front of you blurred. 

Maybe a quick nap would help boost your productivity. 

–

Your eyes snapped open as your body jolted up. How long were you asleep? Your eyes surveyed the library. All around you were either passed out fellow students at their seats, or those running on nothing but caffeine and stress frantically pressing their noses against the books and papers in front of them. There were fewer people here than before you shut your eyes, signaling to you that it has gotten later. 

Your lips pressed into a tight line, did you just lose more precious time? The thought of assignment due dates was pressing against the back of your mind. But you just had to get to the bottom of this, it just doesn’t make sense to you- 

Your eyes widened at what had appeared in front of your seat. Khaenri'ahan Theory of Nuclear Fusion and Practices. But how? You had looked high and low, even breaking library regulations by climbing on the tall ladders to search the very tops.

Your head whipped around, searching for an explanation. Your eyes were just able to catch the slightest glimpse of a familiar shade of grey and green exiting the grand doors of the House of Daena. 

There was a small note on top of the book. 

I had the book you were looking for. There’s a diagram that wasn’t translated properly. On page 520, the diagram says: ‘maintaining temperatures of over 100 million degrees are necessary while regulating pressure and magnetic forces at the same time. These conditions are for stable confinement of the plasma and to maintain the fusion reaction long enough to produce more energy than what was required to start the reaction.’ Hope this helps. 

It was silly really, or maybe your tired mind was just getting sentimental, but your sight began to blur again. Not with sleep this time, your eyes were overflowing with tears. This small note, the neat handwriting, the book you had been searching for.

They were the sweet hands of reassurance you needed on your shoulder. Smiling like an idiot through your tears, you hid your face behind the small note. 

“How long exactly are they going to continue to deny the facts? Jeez, I wish I had their simple mind sometimes.”

“Yeah, it must be nice to have your head buried in the rabbit hole of ignorance.” 

It was now a new year, a fresh semester had long begun, but unfortunately, reputation and stigma don’t have a simple shelf life of just a year. Once more, Alhaitham found that silence in the House of Daena is not seen as a requirement by some students. Mindless gossip had no place in a sanctuary of high academia, but it looks like his opinion isn’t shared. 

Alhaitham had woken up later than he would’ve liked, meaning he didn’t have time to pick up any coffee if he wanted to get to his test on time. After he had finished, he made an effort to get to the café as fast as he could. But when he got there, he saw a sign announcing the café was closed for the day.

In short, Alhaitham was having a bad day, the grating voices that continued to chatter beside him were only fraying his thinning patience even more. 

Frustrated, his eyes followed their line of sight, to see just what subject was so pressing they had to gossip in a place of study and silence. They lead him to your figure, hunched over a thick book, one finger tracing each sentence line by line and the other detailing notes.

Even with the stacks of books that surrounded your desk blocking some of your frame, he could see your face clearly. Although you were trying to maintain a neutral expression, he caught onto the small quivering of your lips. 

“Like the information is already in the akasha, do they think they’re smarter than the combined knowledge of all of Sumeru?” 

“Yeah, well it’s always the stupidest people that speak the loudest-”

“You two are quite loud.” 

The students that sat beside him snapped their attention towards the man who had returned his eyes back to his book. 

“Excuse me?” 

“This is the House of Daena, the largest library in all of Teyvat, and you’re being loud. Maybe you should immerse yourselves in some books, for the academic spirit.” 

“Jeez, we weren’t even that loud, and the akasha-”

“What poor academic spirit. If the akasha was all you needed, then you are no better than any passing stranger on the streets. Why did you even bother with the entrance exam?” 

It wasn’t like Alhaitham to engage in such unnecessary conversation, nor make any excess problems for himself by getting in the bad graces of strangers. However, he was already having a bad day. 

The two friends sneered at him, before getting up and leaving the library. Finally, he can enjoy some silence. He could feel your gaze on him, but he didn’t look up to see the soft stare of amazement and gratitude you were sending his way. 

–

Alhaitham had gotten up briefly to browse the shelves once again. He had finished his book and am now looking for another to pique his interest. Really, the akasha couldn’t hold the vast amount of unspoken knowledge that books had.

The blunt facts and figures the terminal provided didn’t stimulate his mind the way shifting through the lines and characters printed on books did. It was truly a pity that the nation of wisdom didn’t appreciate the pinnacle vessel of information. 

When he had returned to his desk, teal eyes took note of the small square of baklava placed gently on a napkin. Beside it was the green handkerchief, neatly folded. Alhaitham had already gotten a replacement for said item.

Yet seeing how pristine the fabric was even after a year of not seeing it, sentiment crept up on him. 

“Excuse me. Food is not allowed in the House of Daena. I’m going to ask you to leave.” 

Ah, of course. Alhaitham was having a bad day today. 

It’s been a long month. With Summer break quickly approaching, it meant that assignments and exams have been crammed by every professor into a short window. Their long tangents must have caught up to them, as they were now pushing the responsibility of tying up the loose ends onto the students. Pathetic really. 

Still, the weather today was clear and the air warm. The bright sun was being blocked out by the thick foliage present on the branches of the tree Alhaitham rested his body against. He had spent the morning finishing all his most pressing assignments. A break was deserved. 

The soft rustle of leaves as the wind sway their branches were starting to lull the young man to sleep. But the sudden sound of grass getting flattened under shoes snatched that pleasure away. 

Tsk, it doesn’t matter. If he leaves his eyes shut and breaths steady then the other person will sooner or later leave him alone. The steps approached a bit closer then stopped just a bit away. He could hear the rustling of a paper bag and another object getting placed near his side.

As quietly as they could, the footsteps trotted away in a hurry. Once he felt that presence disappear, he lifted his eyelids. 

Beside him there was a brown paper bag, the mouth-watering scent of a shawarma wrap wafted into his nose. And the other object? A cup of hot coffee with a small note taped to it. 

I’m so so so sorry for getting you in trouble that time in the House of Daena! Please take this as an apology! I got the most popular combination at the shop. Please take care of yourself and good luck with your exams!

P.S. I just wanted to apologize again for getting you in trouble!!

Alhaitham could practically hear the sheer panic and anxiety from the piece of paper. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but soften. He was never the type to hold on to pointless grudges, there was no need for you to agonize over such a minuscule event. 

Contradicting his original plans for a nap, he took a sip of the hot coffee. It must be a different blend of coffee beans or a new experimental brewing method, the plain black coffee tasted pleasantly sweet on his tongue. 

“Did you hear? I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, he was a fraudster! I heard he got stripped of his title and even his diploma got rescinded!”  

“I… I can’t believe they were right all along.” 

In the middle of Alhaitham’s third year at the Akademiya, the unfathomable happened. A young student that had yet to even graduate, a mere third year in the middle of their studies, had disproven an accepted theory. A theory that had gone through vetting by the top review boards, and even entered into the akasha. 

After years of long nights and shifting through books long forgotten by scholars, you brought all your evidence and conclusions to the Akademiya review board. 

You wagered your entire academic carrier. 

Your gamble paid out in full. Your findings were significant enough that the board called for an investigation, for another independent experiment of cold fusion to be replicated. A team of other esteemed researchers was established.

They followed every strict protocol for peer review, following each and every document step by the once haughty researcher to his experiment and theory to the highest standard of academic rigor. 

Their conclusion after a four-month trial? Failed experiment after failed experiment to replicate his results? There was no cold fusion. 

This caught the attention of the Matra. For all these years where did those experimental results come from? If his research funds were not going toward creating a better and more effective method of using cold fusion to generate unlimited energy. Then where was it? Their findings? 

Back into the pockets of a few seats on the review board. Funds somehow found themselves in the hands of scholars that had ‘peer reviewed’ his theory the first time around. 

A report from the previously mentioned independent review team detailed his offer of exorbitant amounts of mora for skewed results. That was the final nail in the coffin of his academic carrier. 

It was a great loss of face for the higher-ups and for their esteemed institution. They had let fraudulent nonsense enter the akasha, they allowed this nonsense to poison the minds of civilians and students. Punishment was swift. The higher up on the hierarchy of ego you were, the more crushing the fall will be. 

Now it was he, the lecturer who had ridiculed you with his eager followers for years, who was ostracized from higher academia. 

–

Alhaitham’s eyes followed the noisy crowd as they congregated around your frame. First years watching you with stars in their eyes, questions were thrown your way, asking just how you did it. How did you know? Your eyes light up the same way, as you detailed your research process of debunking that theory. 

Overnight, you became a star at the Akademiya. The same people who had once sneered at you were now trying to push their way through the crowd to get your attention. The professors that once viewed you as their most hopeless student, were now asking you to become their mentee. You treated everyone the same without any reservations. Smile beaming as you answered their questions. 

“Well, even though I have disproven his theory on cold fusion. I still think it’s an interesting path to explore. Maybe we were just led astray by a red herring. However, I think the most important lesson to gain from this controversy is that every theory should be viewed with some level of skepticism. Until you see the theory actually be put into practice, how will you ever confirm for yourself.” 

You have a really radiant smile, Alhaitham notes. It suits you.

 It’s too noisy in the halls of the Akademiya. He turns to walk away. Missing the way your searching eyes followed him, lips parted wanting to call out to him. Only to be drowned by the shower of empty words of praise. 

“You’re such a gifted student!”

“Wow! I wish I was as talented as you!”

“You’re just a genius!” 

Words that dismissed your years of sleepless nights, tearful breakdowns from pressure, and aching wrists from penning down pages upon pages of notes. 

Ah, the Akademiya was still the Akademiya. Even your breakthrough that shook the institution isn’t enough to spark a change in the environment that had been solidified in the marble of the building. Your eyes still followed this tall figure even after he disappeared from your line of sight. 

Yes, there still was a gust of fresh air that blew through this stale toxicity. You only knew his name… does he even know yours?

It’s finally over, the tedious task of attending the Akademiya has been completed. 

Alhaitham can now check that achievement off his list. The collaborative project he had been a part of might have fallen through. But the findings it produced in its short lifespan were fruitful. So much so that it granted Alhaitham a position as a Scribe and a sizable house in the city. More currently, it allowed Alhaitham to meet the last requirement for graduation. 

The diploma he holds in his hands right now was the result of his diligence, of just passing every exam with the highest marks despite not attending the class after the first day. Yes, this is the piece of paper he had ‘worked’ so hard for. 

All around him, there were families hugging, crying, and congratulating their sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, for graduating. Promises of big feasts prepared at home, or for a celebration in the neighborhood. Friends hugged each other as they said their tearful goodbyes. 

Alhaitham stood alone. 

From the very start, he was a loner, he knew this and he liked it this way. So why does his chest feel a bit heavy? The path that he had preplanned had no obstacles lining the way, every piece fell where it should have. Alhaitham already knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to admit it. 

Joyous occasions can really bring out the most isolating sentiments when there was no one to celebrate with. But that is fine, he’s got boxes of books to pack anyways. 

“Um… Excuse me, Alhaitham?” 

A voice halts the ashen-haired man’s step. Teal-orange eyes landed their sights on yours. You were dressed in your graduation robes as well, and a decorated cord hung around your shoulders. Signifying your academic accomplishments during your years as a student. Despite the nervousness in your voice, hands fidgeting with the brown paper bag clutched between them, your eyes looked straight into his. 

“T-this is for you. It’s a pita pocket from Lambard’s tavern. I… I just wanted to thank you for, well, all you’ve done. I-i know we actually haven’t spoken a word to each other these past few years but- but…” You paused, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. 

“Your gestures of kindness and empathy really kept me going. Even during the times when I wanted to give up, your actions really meant a lot to me. So, thank you Alhaitham.” Your eyes were staring back at him with pure sincerity. 

The warm late Spring air blew across your faces, tussling his locks as his eyes shifted from the pita pocket in your hands back to your eyes. The slight quivering of your lips signaled to him the anxious wait for his response. 

“Now’s not the place to eat.”

“O-oh…” The bag in your hands lowered. 

“However, I believe if you were to accompany me to Lambad’s Tavern, I don’t think he’ll deny a paying customer a seat. So, how about it?” The boxes at home could wait. 

“Oh?” You looked at him a bit perplexed at the sudden invitation. But it wasn’t long before a beaming smile broke out on your face. 

“Yes, I would love to!” 

It could have been due to the sweet air, or due to the lustrous look that dawned on your face, but Alhaitham felt that he could breathe easier now. 

It was a sunny afternoon, the perfect weather to do nothing at all. His justification for leaving his desk, piled high with new proposals and applications. Without even looking up from his book Alhaitham could sense the presence approaching his direction. His free hand reached up to turn off noise canceling, there was only one person who would come to find him at this secluded pavilion. 

“Haitham! I got us lunch from Lambad’s Tavern, the special was pita pockets today!” You held a brown takeout bag over your head, one hand cupping your mouth as you called out to him. 

His expression couldn’t help but soften, seeing your figure rapidly closing the distance between the both of you. Your preppy steps stopped just in front of the tall scholar, a small smile gracing your lips as you hid the bag behind your back. Eyes looking at him with anticipation as your back straightened. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes as a soft sigh left his lips, snapping the book in his hands closed as his back pushed off the pillar. Taking a few slow steps to fully close the distance. Gentle fingers cupped your cheek as he leaned down to place a tender kiss just below your eye. He can feel you getting on the tips of your toes, pressing your face more into his lips, he knows you can feel the small smile against your cheek. 

Pulling his face back, thumb still brushing against your other cheek, his teal eyes observed your smile that rivaled the sun.   

“Thank you for the payment, now let’s eat before the lettuce gets all soggy.” You pressed a kiss against his palm. The brown bag reappears from behind you. 

“Yes, of course.” He wanted to observe your face for a little while longer.

Perhaps you should start researching the energy that radiates off your smile, Alhaitham is willing to wager that this hypothesis holds more water than any dismissed notions of cold fusion. 

Fin~

[jq37]

neme(sis)

Summary: The Rat Grinders actually fight the Bad Kids on the Hangman instead of just sending dragons and Adaine has to do some quick thinking.

"Adaine Abernant."

Adaine winced, clutching her head as Raulothim's Psychic Lance pierced her mind. It figured Oisin knew the spell. Raulothim was a dragon after all. She wondered if he learned it in class like her or if he'd come to school already familiar with the spell because of his dragon ancestor who was currently trying to swallow Gorgug, axe and all. She didn't wonder for too long though. There wasn't time.

"See what you can do with access to proper spell components?" Oisin called from the other side of the room, his tone mocking.

"That spell doesn't even have material components!" Adaine called back in spite of herself. Insulting her was one thing but getting basic spellcraft wrong while doing it? Unacceptable. She ignored his expression, smug from getting a rise out of her no doubt, and surveyed the battlefield. The Rat Grinders had caught them on their back foot. Things were going OK but they were playing defense. And no one was where they needed to be. Spellcasters too close to melee, fighters out of range. Only Gorgug was arguably in the right place but he was far too close to being dragon food for her liking. Fabian needed to be closer to the action, Riz needed cover, and she…

Adaine suppressed a smile, idea forming in her mind. She needed to be in punching distance.

"Scatter," she said, raising a hand. Five creatures: Gorgug, Riz, Fabian, Kristen…and Oisin.

Her party members didn't fight the spell, well used to the feeling of her magic working on them mid-battle and knowing that it never meant harm. As she moved them to more advantageous positions, she was hit with a flash of the future: Oisin resisting the spell. She reached out and nudged fate just a bit. Nearby, Ivy walked dangerously close to a breath weapon attack. Oisin startled, moved to grab her, and--pop. Suddenly, he was standing right next to Adaine who was already rearing her fist.

"Counterspell!" Oisin called, runes on his forearms glowing. The expression on his face was even more smug as the blue energy charging on her fist fizzled.

"Predictable," he said.

"Gullible," Adaine thought, halting her fist without following through on the punch and stomping her foot on the ground to activate the teleportation circle they were both now standing on. Because of course the boy with the empty house and unlimited funds would have a teleportation circle installed so he could have his friends over as often as possible. Teleportation via spell needed a willing creature but a Circle? That just needed proximity.

As the spell went off, she concentrated. The benefit of a teleportation circle was that it couldn't go wrong like a normal Teleport spell could. It wasn't supposed to anyway. But any magic could be tweaked if you pushed hard enough. She remembered winding up in the wrong room in the twisted version of Mordred inside Riz's briefcase and concentrated on that feeling. She was sure she was going to have a headache in the morning but that was more than a fair price. She wrenched control of the spell, just enough to force the circle to spit them out a little bit outside of the paired circle in Mordred. There was a flash of light and--forget having a headache tomorrow. Her head felt like it had been bashed in with a pickaxe the moment they landed on the floor of her bedroom. She didn't think she'd be able to get back up for a minute or two--she didn't even try. Oisin didn't seem to have that problem though. He got up and stood over her.

He smirked. "I thought the elven oracle was supposed to be more of a challenge. I knew we'd come out on top but I didn't think it'd be so easy." He raised his hands, readying a spell, but the sparks at his clawtips died as quickly as they were produced. He tried the spell again to the same result, too focused to notice the sudden subtle sheen to the patterns painted on her bedroom walls.

A Sending spell pinged in her mind. "Ten seconds, dear sister."

A smile played on Adaine's lips.

"What?" Oisin demanded.

"Just that you all have been so obsessed with being our nemeses this whole time. But that was never gonna happen with you and me. That position is already filled."

There was another flash of light and before it even cleared, Adaine felt the tingle of magic settling over her like a second skin. Her sister's abjurer's ward extending to cover her reflexively. Just beyond the ward, she could feel the temperature in the room start to drop--a side effect of the Cone of Cold that was about to erupt from Aelwyn's outstretched hands.

"You're familiar with my bitch of a sister, right?"

[phantasyreign]

Theme 15: Shilin

A project that I have been working on since 2022 and my latest and final gift to my fellow followers, featuring my all time favorite artist - @okolnir

I dedicate this theme to my respondents who requested for a RP theme. This theme is suitable for RPers, writers, comic artists (hopefully) and any other general bloggers. It's very versatile - you can make this as complex as you want or even as simple as you want.

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This is my final theme and a gift for everyone.

[taazaofferss]

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[w2sology]

Harry Lewis period comfort!!

by the book, harry lewis.

summary: how harry helps you through the unbearable butden to women that is periods.

warnings: shouldn't really be a warning but periods, language, moody reader, that's all!

the first time it happened, harry was completely puzzled

as in when he got the please buy me pads from the shops :( text, he had zero idea on what to do

frantically calling his mum for help bc he felt like asking his sister was a bit too odd

but his mum came to his rescue as she always did

told him what he should do and what to avoid doing

that day harry learnt a lot about you

like what foods made you mad and what foods made the pain more bearable for you

and ever since, he makes sure that he's stocked up on pads whenever you're staying over at his

as you grew older and your body started to mature, you started to change as well

you went from craving ice cream and stuff to craving iced coffee and fruit

but harry didn't mind, he'd go to the shops at 2am just for you because he knew that there was a whole day's worth of cuddles waiting ahead for him

the cuddles were the absolute best

as in we're talking legs tangled together, sheets all messy around you two, his arms on your stomach to help ease the pain or help hold the hot water bottle, and your head resting on his chest as you watch whatever's on the telly

you would hate how harry cancelled plans just to stay and look after you, even though he claimed that he was "surveying what it's like to be a homebody"

kissed and kisses and kisses

anything can be healed with a kiss, or at least that's what harry believes. so he gives you a pass for unlimited kisses.

unfortunately he's also the type to make you laugh until you start cramping, which leads to you getting pissed off at him

"harry— fucking stop, my stomach!"

"no one told you to laugh that hard!"

"get off me, bitch"

him taking photos of you sprawled out which he shows you later, ignoring how you cringe and shrink at yourself knocked out in pain

if there was ever to be an accident on the bedsheets, harry would be an abode sweetheart

waking you up gently and telling you that he ran a bath for you, and whilst you're in the bath he changes the sheets, gets you some fresh clothes and makes sure you have all the things you need for the next week

everyone expects him to be the least experienced when it comes to this stuff but after helping you out through these painful days every month, he seems to have a good understanding of it

"so is it like... can you feel it right now?"

"harry, i won't feel it unless i'm in an uncomfortable position or if i sneeze or something."

"... can you sneeze then?"

defo the type to jokingly ask if you want to have sex, only to stop the joke immediately after seeing your dead straight face.

overall, he's a human heater, a great blanket, and a good cuddle buddy all in one

[gretavangroupie]

Voyeur

Word count: 3.5k+

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Language, Smut, Fluff.

Summary: A new side of Jake comes to life within the walls of your new home. But you may not be the only one who notices.

You hit send, sending the request off to the lab. Releasing a deep sigh from your chest, you push back from your desk and stretch your legs feeling the joints ache for a new position. Your whole body is tired, it's been a long 12 hours. Your phone begins to buzz in your pocket as it vibrates with a text message. A small smile crosses your face when you see Jake’s initials flash across the screen.

JK: Baby, when will you be home?

Glancing at the clock you check the time. 4:05. You flip through the charts you still have to finish and bite your cheek, knowing it's going to be a while. You text him back with the bad news.

You: It’s not looking like any time soon. I still have about 5 charts left to do.

JK: Hmmm, that’s not gonna work.

You: I’m sorry?

JK: I need you to come home, I am dying.

You: Dying?

JK:  I need you.

You: Oh

JK: Baby

You: Why don’t you…

JK: No

You: Jake…

JK: Maybe

You: I will try my best to get these done quickly.

JK: Okay

Placing your phone back in your pocket you get started on the first of many charts. Furiously typing and putting in the values, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket again. 

JK: *Image*

Opening the photo you see a barely clothed Jake laying in your bed, just waiting.

You: Tempting as always Jacob, but the more you text me the longer it's going to take. Shoot, I may have to spend the night in the on-call room if it gets too late…

You enjoy teasing him. You know full well that is not your intention. 

JK: No. Please come home tonight 

You: Love you, see you later.

JK: Love you

JAKE POV

With a huff you put your phone down on the bed. Getting up, you decide to go unpack a few boxes while you wait. You had just bought this big beautiful house together, and you had both been living out of boxes for the past few weeks. You being gone and her working, neither of you really had much time to unpack and get settled. 

This was her last shift this week, and the first time you would both be home for a weekend in what felt like months. It would definitely be the first night you had spent with her this week, only seeing her during the day, and you were desperate for her. You needed her. Feeling your blood rushing to your dick you quickly push the thought of her from your mind, before you have to take care of it yourself. 

No. Wait for her.

You maneuver your way through the maze of cardboard moving boxes, making your way to the front living room. The sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow onto the dark, charcoal walls. Surveying the amount of boxes left to unpack, you sigh. This is going to take a while. 

You had no problem getting your music loft set up, but the living room, and even worse the kitchen… seemed daunting. Grabbing one of the boxes near the door, you drag it across the floor and over to the couch. You sit down, and grab your knife out of your pocket, slicing the tape on top.

As you open it up and peer inside you see your record collection, sitting and waiting to be placed in its new home. You spend the next thirty minutes, alphabetizing and placing the collection on the built-in shelves. One of the things you loved about this home was the unlimited amount of places to store things. It is old, one of the oldest in Nashville. That was part of its charm. When you came to look at the house it spoke to you instantly. It had stories in its walls begging to be told. Within five minutes you knew it was the one and when she told you how much she loved it, you had no choice but to put in an offer on it immediately. Two long days were spent waiting to hear if your offer was accepted, and finally it was. It was yours. Both of yours. 

Once all of your records sat happily on the shelves, you moved on to the next box which was full of books, awaiting their similar fate. You began the process of unpacking them, and organizing them on the shelf. 

You had only unpacked two boxes but it felt like 40, with all of the back and forth trips between the shelves and the box. Sitting down on the leather chair in the corner, you cross your leg over your knee and pull out your phone to see if she had texted you, but you were met with nothing. A groan leaves your chest at the uncertainty of knowing when she would be home. You’ve never felt this desperate and pathetic in your entire life.

Standing up, you break down the two boxes, and make your way to the trash can outside to put them into the recycling bin. On your walk back inside you see your neighbors in the front yard, and you wave to them with a quick smile. You make a mental note to go over and introduce yourself now that you were home to do so. 

The sun is setting rapidly, the house growing dark. The dark paint on the walls further darkened each room. It was moody, and gothic. Everything you ever wanted in a home. A place that was truly yours.

You step into your front door, and turn on the small lamp that sits at the entryway. You make your way through the first level of the house turning on various lamps, so that when she does get home, she doesnt stumble over all of the boxes and clutter. You walk back to the book shelf in the living room, grabbing a book that caught your eye earlier. You had bought it to read on tour, but it was always so loud on the bus, you never got a chance. You head up the stairs into the loft, and position yourself on the plush leather couch, finding a comfortable position. But as soon as you crack the book open you realize the readers you so desperately need are downstairs in your bedroom. 

With a grumble you stand up with your book, making your way back down the stairs. Stepping into your bedroom you see them sitting on the dresser, and you put them on, flopping yourself down onto the fluffy white sheets. The soft orange glow of the streetlight pours in through your large bedroom window. But the light is not enough for you to legibly make out the letters on the pages. You reach over and turn on your lamp, letting it turn the room a soft amber. Opening the first page you are instantly sucked in, and find the time passing quickly. 

Six chapters in you feel your phone buzz on the bed. When you see her name flash across the screen you quickly open it. ‘Be home soon’. Eliciting an audible “Finally.” from your lips.

You get up and walk to the bathroom, turning on the shower to let it get hot. Steam begins to fill the small master bathroom as you strip down. You grab a towel from the linen closet and then step into the scalding hot water. Letting the water run down your back you wet your hair before lathering in the fancy shampoo she insists you start using, which you will admit smells pretty good.

You scrub your body with her favorite body wash, hoping to entice her further. Trying to keep it short you rinse yourself and turn off the water. Wrapping yourself in the clean towel.

You step out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, looking outside the large picture window that sits directly behind your bed. Yet another thing you loved about this house was the grand windows. More than double the size of an average window, it filled the rooms with plenty of natural light. You insisted that you not cover the windows with any blinds or curtains, letting as much light flow into the house as possible. You lived on a quiet street, so you never really thought about what people might see in the dark of the night, but if you were being completely honest, it didn't matter to you if they did.

You stand in front of the floor length mirror and as you button the few buttons on your shirt. You hear her car pull into the driveway and you can't help the smile that crosses your face. Running your fingers through your damp hair, you hang your towel on the back of the bathroom door, and make your way into the kitchen, to uncork a bottle of wine. 

HER POV

Placing your key in the front door, you peer into the glass and see the glow of lamp light scattered throughout the house. You twist the key in the lock and push the door open. It’s quiet other than the sound of a record spinning on the turntable in the living room. The soft crackle of the vinyl is homey, and always reminds you of Jake. You can smell his body wash in the air, and you know he must have just showered.

“Jake?” you call out for him.

“In the kitchen my love.” he replies, and you hear the clinking together of glass stemware.

He always knows what I need…

Your legs carry you into the kitchen, your body naturally gravitating towards him. 

You see him standing at the kitchen counter, graciously pouring the dark red wine into the glasses, before placing the bottle onto the wooden countertop.

He grabs a glass and extends it out to you, as his eyes meet yours, “My love?”

You accept the glass and sip it slowly, tasting the selection of the evening. 

“Hi baby, you smell good.” you say, taking another small sip. “This is good, is this one of the bottles from Italy?” 

“It is, I figured we could enjoy it together. I loved it when I had it then, and knew I had to bring some home to you.” he replies, picking up the bottle to hand it to you.

You inspect the label, in all Italian of course, running your fingers over the embossed paper. 

“You have good taste Mr. Kiszka.” you say, setting down the bottle. His hand finds your waist and circle around you, lacing his fingers together to hold you close to him.

“I like to think so…” he says, craning his face dangerously close to yours.

“You want to tell me why you needed me so badly today?” you ask, a whisper against his lips.

He lets out a small laugh, a smile playing upon his lips, “Well, I haven’t gotten to see you all week. I missed you. I am missing you. I need you. I can’t live without you a second longer.” he says, his words sending goosebumps across your skin. 

His lips press to yours, the taste of the wine still lingering on his tongue. You can feel the urgency in his kiss and you know deep down you want him just as badly as he wants you. 

You pull away, “Jake…I missed you too.” you whisper, returning your lips back to his. You can feel the transfer of energy between the two of you, both of you craving more of each other. His hands start to move, finding their way under your top, ridding your body of the pale blue fabric.

Your hands reach into the unbuttoned section of his shirt, the way you like it, placing your hands on his chest. You slide them upward to tangle into the bottom of his still damp hair. The smell of him wafting into your nose is an intoxicating high. 

A growl leaves his throat as he parts his lips from yours. He takes you by the hand and leads you to the bedroom. You walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, letting the fluffy white sheets entice you. You lay back letting them puff up around your arms and you release a deep sigh. When Jake returns to you, he is sans shirt, leaving his silver necklace as the only adornment to his body perfect body. 

He crawls over top of you, hovering his face above yours. His necklace swings between the two of you, a shiny reminder of you he wears daily. 

“Why don’t you show me what you wanted me to come home for today.” you say playfully. 

“It would be my pleasure darling.” he says, pulling the cups of your bra down leaving your bare chest exposed to the cool air of the room. Your nipples harden in response. He rubs his thumb over the taught buds, the look of lust in his eyes drowning out the brown irises. 

“Jake….touch me.” you beg.

At your command his lips attach to your chest as his hands work to rid you of your pants. He works them down your legs as you kick them off onto the floor. You reach between you to grab his hardened dick through the cotton of his boxers. He groans as you wrap your hand around him and stroke him through the fabric.

He pulls away from you long enough to take his boxers off, letting his dick spring free. You sit up off the bed and remove your bra, tossing it to the floor. You stand up and spin him around, having him sit on the edge of the bed. You make your way to your knees below him as your hand finds his base and gently begins to tug upward on his throbbing length. 

He watches down on you as you take him in your mouth. He throws his head back at the sensation and you look up to see his adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He groans loudly and you feel the wetness pooling at your core. 

You’ve seen this look on his face before. In fact a lot of people have. It’s the same look as when he hits a note perfectly at the end of a solo. It's his look of euphoria.

You wrap your lips firmly around his cock and you begin to work him, showing him just how much you missed him. When you flick your eyes up to his however, he isn’t looking at you. He is looking at himself. 

The floor length mirror is situated against the corner of the wall facing the bed. He has the best view in the house of what is transpiring. You feel his cock twitch as he watches himself receive what he has been dying for all day. You know he likes to watch himself on stage but this is what really gets him off. Twisting your wrist with each flick of your tongue you feel him start to twitch in the back of your throat. 

He moans loudly as you pick up the pace, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip. His breathing starts to become erratic as he nears his finish.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. Let me cum on your tits.” he begs. 

You nod your head as he forces himself further down your throat and you feel the familiar twitching as he pulls himself from your mouth, grasping his own length and stroking himself rapidly as he watches himself in the mirror. His breathing is quick and ragged and a drawn out curse falls from his lips as his release shoots out, painting your chest in hot white ropes. His eyes never leaving the vision of the two of you in the mirror. He throws his head back again in a similar fashion as he struggles to catch his breath. Chest heaving with each breath, sweat running down his neck.

When his gaze finally returns to you he watches as you collect his cum with your fingers, licking them clean. 

“Jesus Christ that was hot.” he says, taking your hand and helping you stand. He pulls you by the hand to fall on top of him, as he rolls you to be underneath him. The flicker of desire in his eyes growing to constant glow.

He slides down your body, grabbing the hem of your panties in his fingers and sling them off your legs. His fingers slide through your slit, collecting your wetness before he brings them to his mouth. 

A groan leaves his chest as he tastes you. “It has been too long. I need you.” he begs, pressing wet kisses to your stomach.

“So have me.” you reply.

You grab his length and align him with your center, as you feel his tip press against your core.

Lights flash into the room as a car turns the corner of your street.

“Wait Jake, the window.” you say.

“What about it?” he asks, pressing into you.

You moan as he fills you completely, and through strangled breaths you reply, “The window, someone will see us.”

He looks down at you, and smiles, “I know. Let em’ watch. Watch me claim whats mine.” he says, fucking into you hard enough to ellicit a scream from your chest. 

His necklace swings like a pendulum quickly between your bodies as his pace quickens. The tips of his hair are damp with sweat as they brush over his shoulders. You whine beneath him as he hits your g spot with ease.

“Feel good baby? You like it when I fuck you so everyone can see?” he asks.

You moan at the thought of it. Something you never considered. With how much he likes to watch himself, you never thought about him getting off to others watching. Maybe that is part of why he looks so good on stage. He is enjoying other people watching him experience pleasure. A surge of wetness pools between your legs as he pulls out and flips you to your stomach. You push yourself up onto all fours as he smacks your ass. 

“Turn around baby, look at yourself in the mirror.” he demands.

You spin around to face the mirror, shuddering at the vision of yourself in the compromising position. 

“Don’t look away, you’re fuckin gorgeous. I can’t take my eyes off of you.” he says. 

He finds his place behind you, and slowly pushes into you, his hip bones pressing deeply into your ass. He groans as you squeeze your walls around him. 

“Fuck, do that again.” he asks, and so you squeeze around him as you meet his eyes in the mirror. 

“Exactly, baby. Watch me fuck you. Look at how good you make me feel. I’m yours. You fuckin own me.” he says, returning to his regular pace behind you as his hair bobs around his shoulders with each thrust. 

As you watch him you start to understand why he likes it. It is kind of hot to watch. It feels almost wrong. A set of headlights flash across the mirror as you see a car pass the window through the reflection in the mirror.

As it passes you feel Jake’s dick twitch inside of you. You understand now why he was so adamant about the placement of the mirror when you set up the bedroom. This is what he wanted. He wanted to be able to watch himself, and watch the window. He wanted to see if anyone was watching him. He wanted to see everything, from all angles. 

“You like that Jakey? You like the idea of people watching you fuck?” you ask, panting through each word.

“Fuck yeah I do. Want everyone to see what’s mine. You’re fuckin mine.” he says, punctuating each sentence with a forward thrust. 

You know any passerby is in for the show of their lives, especially since the room is lit by the small lamp on his bedside table. Giving all the meaning to the words ‘picture window’. And what a pretty picture it would be. Thankfully it is late, but East Nashville doesn’t sleep, so the chance is never zero.

As he hits that spot inside, you moan his name. With a few more thrusts he is getting close, you can tell by the movement of his hips. You can feel your walls contracting around him in return.

“Cum for me angel, let everyone see how pretty you are when you cum for me. Show them who you belong to.” he says.

You toss your head back as your release washes over you, leaving you shaking beneath him. His name pouring from your lips like the sweet Italian wine.

With one more thrust he is releasing into you, with forceful grunts. “Fuck….” he breathes out.

He pulls out of you, watching his release drip down your leg. “So fucking perfect. I love you so much.” 

You stand and make your way to the bathroom as you tell him you love him too.

You clean yourself up and return to him, laying there still breathing heavily. The glint of the silver metal around his neck reflects on his chest with the rise and fall of each breath. You cuddle up next to him as he turns off his lamp and releases a relaxed sigh. As you both lay there in the darkness you whisper, “Jake?” 

“Yeah baby…” he replies.

“I love where you put the mirror.” you say.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “Me too, baby. Me too.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

tiny tiny taglist: @gretavansara @jordierama @starshine-wagner @gretavanfvckface @gretavanmoon @gvfjess @misshunnybee @fretaganvleet @gvfpal @joshkiszkas @ascendingtostardust @raviolilegs

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monsters Reimagined: Asmodeus, Lord of all Hells

I think I know what may be happening....You’re trying to atone me, and I didn’t do anything wrong...You want to know what I’ve always hated about mortals? why I spit on your forgiveness, why I loathe your redemption? To reach a hand down to somebody they need to be beneath you,

And I’m Beneath Nobody.

Brennan Lee Mulligan as Asmodeus for Exandria Unlimited: Calamity

@pikablob​ was asking about my ideas on devils and mentioned Asmodeus in the process, and while I’ve already done a monster’s reimagined on devils, I figured it was a good opportunity to talk about my take on the biggest of big bads. To summarize, I like to go back to the mythological roots of devils less as agents of a universal evil but as individual manifestations of judgment, looking to test or punish mortals for their failings. This ( along with Brennan’s showstopping performance in calamity) gave me the idea of an Asmodeus as the ultimate critic of mortalkind, an entity that can see all of our flaws and nothing of our virtues.

TLDR:  There are many evil gods, wicked things that preside over cruelty and misfortune in all its forms, but there are few that would claim to be the god of evil itself. Though to hear the lord of all hells tell it, there is nothing touched by mortals that is NOT evil: no act that is not in some way rooted in self interest, no moment of self determination that is not a transgression, no soul that is not some way corrupted. To allow the Father of Sin into your heart is to accept that people are fundamentally wicked creatures deserving of punishment, and that punishment cannot come soon enough.

Bio: Ruling from the lowest depths of the pit, Asmodeus sits a throne surveying an empire built on torture and damnation and deems it insufficient. There is evil in the multiverse and that evil is called mortals, things gifted with the tiniest spark of life who every day choose the wickedness of existence. His purpose is  to be the scourge that drives the animal towards the slaughterhouse, to take hold of mortal life and shape it into useful purpose, with the only useful purpose being the ultimate destruction of all wicked things

The hypocracy of being an evil god punishing evil does not for a moment shake Asmodeus. Spirits cannot choose their nature, nor can animals, but mortals which live in the intersection choose to be evil every day, and worse yet, have the capability to choosing evil at any time. In spite of his divine status, and in many ways because of it, Asmodeus is actually incapable of perceiving good in mortals, believing that good intentions or earnest affection are yet more lies and hasty justifications that mortals buffer themselves with to excuse their faults and selfish action. None can then judge the atrocities he commits because none are without sin, even if to find that sin he needs to peel back layers of causality and unconscious feelings to find a thread of wrongdoing. 

To purge the universe of the blight of mortals Asmodeus cultivates power and fear: Power in the form of legions of devils and devoted servants who’s hateful hearts he feeds like a furnace, fear in the form of agents which sow division in mortal hearts and a myriad of private hells filled with infinite forms of torment.

Swear to serve Asmodeus, say his mouthpieces, and you will be spared the infinite torment when the boot on your neck breaks through to your spine, or when his hordes come to put your home to the torch.  Give up on the falsehoods of hope, love, and kindness,  visit punishment on others and you may be rewarded for your service

Behind the scenes: I’ve talked quite a lot about how d&d uses the idea of objective evil as a staple of its worldbuilding, and how in doing so it ends up falling face first into pro genocide rhetoric. In attempting to make badguys that the party is 1000% justified in killing on sight it ends up stumbling into some very fucked up thought experements.    Monsters in vanilla d&d arn’t just evil because they do bad things, but they do bad things because they are inherently evil:  They pillage, they enslave, they despoil, not because these things benefit them ( as it invariably gets them killed by adventurers) but because these acts serve as an outlet for their wicked natures.

If our heroes’ enemies are fundamentally evil, then any action which opposes them must be good, and any pillaging, enslaving, or despoiling the party does can be excused provided the targets belong to the designated ingroup. This is almost identical to the reasoning that was used by crusaders, conquistadors, slave owners, and fascists, and what is now being used by the evangelical to deny people rights and life-saving aid to this day.

What I wanted with Asmodeus was an entity that looked at the party like a group of murderhobos look at an orc: an ugly brutish thing that is only useful in so far as its suffering and death can benefit them.  Maybe it’ll be funny if they make it beg for its life. The party feel they’re justified in this because they know the orc is objectively evil ( because the books said so), just like Asmodeus is justified in plucking the souls from mortals and making them suffer for eternity because he knows, in his flawed omniscience, that they are deserving of it.

Signs: The sounds of tortured souls wailing from below, symbols of power glowing red hot, the manifestations of lesser devils.

Symbols: A five pointed star made of jagged metal, a black throne or crown atop numerous bodies.

[roo-bastmoon]

Jimin needs your help

Puppykitties, Jimin is up for an award. He worked for ten straight months on FACE. He earned the highest first week sales record. He made history as the first Korean soloist to capture BB Hot 100 #1.

This award show is three days before his birthday and it's very likely he will attend. As a show of ARMY's love and appreciation, we shouldn't let him leave empty handed.

I'm going to walk you through how you can help under the cut.

A few things to know:

We have less than five days. Voting stops at 6pm KST 10/02 (5am EST).

Voting resets every day at noon EST.

One email account = one vote per day.

Gmail lets you make an unlimited number of free email accounts. (Hint: I have 10 gmail "fandom personas" I use for buying, streaming, and voting.)

You go to this link HERE.

Go ahead and select your device settings so that it auto translates to English.

Go to LOGIN. Create an identity using one of your Google email accounts. It will ask you for a name, birthdate, country, and phone number. I like to use things I can easily remember and that are in the right area code for where my computer is set up.

Once you have created an identity for this site (it remembers you later), you go ahead and scroll all the way down to select JIMIN and then NO.

You say no because you are not trying to get a ticket to the award show--you just want to quickly get through the vote.

It will ask you if you are sure because you can only vote once per day. Click you are sure, and you can scroll up to see CURRENT STATUS if you're curious to see how Jimin's doing in the poll.

Then you LOGOUT and repeat these steps for each gmail account you have. You do this every day until the clock runs out.

At this moment in time, Jimin is right behind Lim Youngwoong with a 5% gap. (For perspective, we made up a 10% gap just today, but it requires everyone to PUSH.)

You know those lovely Korean ajumas love them some Lim Youngwoong, and he seems like a straight-up decent fella, but our Jimin deserves to be recognized for his hard work on his first solo project. The ajumas are currently asleep, but they will wake up around 9pm EST and start voting again, and they take it Real Serious.

We need every ARMY to make at least five accounts (ten is better) and vote for Jimin once a day for the next five days. BTS should always win fan-voted awards.

Side Note: I recognize there was some controversy because during the first two rounds of this survey, Yoongi fans had voted him in the lead. Then yesterday, haters started dragging Jimin to hell and back in the award site comments and on Twitter. That, of course, was a rallying cry for Jimin fans. You can love or hate Jimin solos, but you have to acknowledge they are organized and dedicated.

Now Jimin is in the lead, and ARMY must pivot from voting for Yoongi to voting for Jimin, if they wish to follow the "vote for whoever is in the lead" guideline. Splitting the votes will assure the ajumas win. I'm not going to argue with you if your conscience dictates you vote differently. It's YOUR vote; that is your private business.

But I believe that no amount of distaste for fans should overshadow your love for a member. And of all the BTS members, Jimin is the only one who has never won an end-of-the-year award, and he will likely be in service the next time the opportunity comes up, so I hope we can all row together and get this race won.

I wish you best of luck, ARMY. Let's get it!

Love, Roo

[encyclopediacr]

Last month at the wiki — April 2024

Every month, we highlight significant work done in the previous month by our editing community at Encyclopedia Exandria.

We usually do this on the first Wednesdays, except for months like this where the month starts on a Wednesday and then a lot of announcements happen.

As always, we start with a selection of articles created in the highlighted month. You can find more at the 50 newest pages report.

Kon Bruda, Theolocrat of the Dwendalian Empire

Timeline of Midst

Hezrou, a type of demon

Ishta, the Summit Blade, Otohan Thull's primary weapon

Scream Needle, Otohan Thull's off-hand weapon

Horn of Blasting, magical item that inflict thunder damage

First Draught Book Club, adventuring party that collects recipes from across Exandria

Paloma, Opal and Ted's mother

The Endless Descent, massive staircase in Oldfaire

Circle of the Wrym, Candela Obscura circle

Bells Hells leveled up in the past month, and we've updated all of their level subpages to reflect this! These subpages are still new (and were discussed briefly in our survey response), but you can see examples of them and the new level 13 sections at Laudna/Levels and Chetney Pock O'Pea/Levels.

Crown Keepers finally has a summary of their adventures as a group across Exandria Unlimited Prime and Exandria Unlimited: Kymal. Pools of Wittebak has been moved to Wittebak and expanded to better cover the city as a whole.

As always, if you wish to contribute to Encyclopedia Exandria, we welcome any and all good faith editors! Our regular stable of editors is small, and with the release schedule busier than ever, so too are we at the wiki. If you have any interest in editing, whether it's for tasks like spelling and grammar correction to regular weekly updates, you can do so right away. We appreciate whatever help volunteers are able to give. If you need any help yourself or have any questions about editing, you can post a question to a talk page, send us an ask, or join our Discord.