#I think the liars part has to do with the cataclysm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miraculouswolf99 · 3 years

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Field Trip To Greece

My own take on the Field Trip salt stories that usually are crossovers with Batman and have Damienette. But this is my version with them going to Greece and involves my OCs Lyon and Vallia Garden.

*****

“Mari, Mari, MARI,” Adrien basically yelled into his friend’s ear.

Marinette woke up with a jolt in her bus seat.

“What,” she groaned, never being much of a morning person.

“We’re almost at the sanctuary, so I figured to wake you up,” Adrien smiled at his friend.

“Thanks and curse how fast this bus is,” Marinette said.

“And curse Hawkmoth for late night akumas,” Adrien suggested.

“That to,” Marinette agreed. “Even in Greece, he still finds a way to annoy us in Paris.”

“Well, you brought the horse miraculous for a reason,” Adrien said.

“How are you not tired,” Marinette questioned him.

“I’ve always been a morning person,” Adrien shrugged. “Blame my father for a lot of early morning photoshoots.”

“I’d slap your father if it did not mean risking my future as a fashion designer in the process,” Marinette says.

After revealing themselves to each other after Miracle Queen, the two had developed a more brother-sister relationship. They both thought that it would be better for them to know each other after having all their allies exposed to Hawkmoth and Mayura. They joked around, teased each other, and also always had each others backs.

Having each other’s backs certainly helped them when Lila’s lies got worse. After Chloe had willingly helped Hawkmoth, she had been sent to a private reformatory school in Sweden. Lila took the opportunity to tell more of her lies, saying that she had been telling her “best friend” Ladybug to keep the Bee miraculous away from Chloe for months. And just like everything else Lila ever said, their class ate it up like it was their last meal.

Adrien had joined Marinette almost immediately after he made his “deal with the devil” in order to get her back into school. He threw himself off the “high road” the moment that Marinette told him that Lila threatened her. But even with him backing up Marinette every time she caught inconsistencies in Lila’s tales, there were still few that actually believed them. Some even went as far as scolding Marinette for her “brainwashing Adrien” into thinking that Lila was a liar.

Kim, Juleka, and Nathaniel were the only ones that stayed loyal to their friends. Especially since Marinette had done so much for them in the past. Like curing Juleka of her photo curse, helping Nathaniel get together with Marc, and Kim had been her friend since they were in diapers. With their group was also Kagami, Luka, Marc, Aurore, and Mireille. The rest of Bustier’s class was pretty much made up of Lila’s attack dogs.

What annoyed Adrien the most was how his so-called best friend. Nino may be siding with his girlfriend, Alya being Lila’s biggest supporter/attack dog, but that also meant he was part of the problem. He certainly never helped Adrien when Lila would constantly hold onto his arm no matter how many times he told her to let go. It was driving Adrien crazy and he was very close to taking Plagg up on his offer to Cataclysm the liar.

“I bet the garden is going to be beautiful,” Juleka says, her seat next to the two heroes.

She was sitting next to Nathaniel while Kim was in the seat in front of Adrien and Marinette. They were all in the seats at the back of the bus.

“I heard that the Garden Family Sanctuary is ranked as an unofficial wonder of the world,” Nathaniel said.

“Anyone else find it odd that a nature sanctuary is run by a family with Garden as their last name,” Kim asked.

“I think this is one of those ‘don’t think about it too much’ times,” Marinette shrugged.

“I haven’t been here in years,” Adrien was glad to be back.

“You’ve been here before,” Juleka asked.

“There was a charity fashion show here about a year before my mother disappeared,” Adrien explained. “I was here with my parents for it.”

“Did you meet any of the animals here,” Kim looked excited. “I heard that they let any animals here roam free even when they have events or tours here.”

“The animals do roam around the sanctuary as they wish,” Adrien says. “But the Garden family and all their employees work hard to tame all their animals privately to make sure that even the predators do not harm anyone. They spend months to years taming them before releasing them into the main part of the sanctuary.”

“It really sounds like an amazing place,” Marinette said.

“I can’t wait to draw some of the animals,” Nathaniel already had out his sketchpad. “Marc requested I draw him the most amazing animal that I see. No pressure. Haha.”

Juleka patted his shoulder, but her obviously hiding her laughter made her attempt to comfort him fail.

But, as usual, their good moods had to be ruined by the Italian that never seemed to go five minutes without hearing the sound of her own voice. And, also as usual, she was spouting her nonsense. They were very close to throwing her out the back of the bus if she did not stop talking.

“Of course I know the Garden family,” Lila brags, lying through her teeth. “They are basically family to me.”

“Here we go again,” the five friends groaned.

“The mother and her two daughters mostly handle the plants,” Lila continues. “The father and their son handle the animals. It’s only natural since they are the only ones that can stomach having to put down the more dangerous animals.”

“Tell us more, Lila,” Alya was recording the entire time.

Adrien growled. “There has never been a case of an animal being put down at the sanctuary. The closest that comes to that is when an animal gets sick and there is nothing they can do to help it.”

“They have to put it out of its misery, don’t they,” Marinette asked.

Adrien nodded. “The youngest two Gardens speak fluent French, so I was able to spend some time with kids my own age during the fashion show. They told me that while it breaks their hearts, it is better than letting the animal suffer.”

“I can see where they come from for that,” Juleka says. “They love, take care of, and train all the animals. So it’s only natural that they form a bond with them.”

“I know I am not the brightest person in class, but how can they believe such crap,” Kim shook his head. “Whenever anyone even slightly mentions someone famous, she instantly says she is either best friends with them or somehow related to them. It’s impossible.”

“Tell that to the sheep that follow her around like she’s god’s gift to the world,” Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Makes you wonder if we really are the only ones in class with braincells,” Nathaniel, of all people, said.

The bus doors opened as it came to a full stop at the sanctuary. Bustier was the first out and the class followed her. They all first went into the sanctuary. And even from what little they could see from where they were, it already was one of the most beautiful places any of them have ever seen.

Trees, flowers, and even fruit and vegetable plants were growing as far as their eyes could see. The entire sanctuary also seemed to be covered by a glass dome, making an environment similar to a greenhouse. It made sense since there were probably plants in certain areas that needed to be grown in certain temperatures.

But today the dome’s windows were open, letting in the natural light of the sun, even if it looked like squares on the ground because of the dome’s window linings.

As Bustier lead them to a stop, two teen their age approached the group. Adrien recognized his two penpals. The ones he met in Greece when he was there for the fashion show. Lyon and Vallia Garden.

Vallia was quite beautiful and had a grace and elegance to her style. She had long blond hair braided with roses and butterflies and had pink streaks. Her eyes were a stunning silver that you could see, if you were close enough, had specks of blue in them. Her style was a red, pink, and purple dawn colored dress with gold flats. On her wrists were diamond rose cuff bracelets, a butterfly on the one on her right wrist.

Lyon gave off a very icy exterior that also screamed honor and loyalty that only a knight would have. A tall boy with hair that was black with streaks of white and blue in it, coming to the length of Adrien's. His eyes were the opposite of the girl's, blue with silver specks. His outfit of choice was a sky blue t-shirt under a white jean vest, matching the blue pants with white boots. On his hands were white fingerless gloves. Around his neck was a sword and shield pendant as well as a white cloak only going down to his knees.

They all also saw that the two did have crystal medallions on their foreheads. Vallia’s was a rose quartz butterfly and Lyon’s was a sapphire wolf.

“Your pen pals are hot, Adrien,” Marinette smirked as she saw her honorary brother staring at Lyon.

“Shut up,” Adrien grumbled, making Marinette giggle.

Bustier turns to the class. “These two are going to be our guides through the sanctuary. Please show them the proper amount of respect since they are the ones that work here.”

Lyon and Vallia gave the teacher the side-eye. While they technically did work there, their family owned the sanctuary and it was like Bustier had completely forgot about that and thought that they were just employees of the sanctuary.

“Shouldn’t we be guided by adults,” Mylene asked, trying not to sound offensive to the two teens.

“We’re your tour guides because we are the only ones here fluent in French,” Lyon told the class, his French flawless.

Adrien hid that he was chuckling behind his hand. He knew the twins were fluent, but the looks on his classmate’s faces when Lyon spoke in French was just so funny.

“Before we begin, let us introduce ourselves,” Vallia said, also switching to French. “My name is Vallia and this is my twin brother, Lyon.”

“Please also take note of a few rules of the sanctuary,” Lyon says. “While the animals here have been tamed, do not touch or interact with them without permission. Certain movements or actions could cause them to badly react. They are all also on specific diets, so do not feed them unless we give you food to give them.”

“The plants should also all remain untouched,” Vallia added. “There are certain plants here that are not native to the area and survive here only because we created the right environments for them. Especially the ghost orchid. There are barely even 2000 ghost orchid plants left in the world and they need to remain here so that they do not go extinct.”

Most of the class nodded, understanding the rules. Lila hid how annoyed she was at not being able to take whatever beautiful plant she wants or touch any cute animal that she sees.

The tour than began, the class following the twins deeper into the sanctuary. Already they were starting to see a ton of the animals that lived there. There were some animals of Greek origins. Such as brown bears, red deer, lynxes, rock lizards, weasels, and wild boar. There were also more international animals. Like white-tailed deer from North America, jaguars from South America, pandas from China, African panthers and lions, Indian tigers, horses from Canada, even komodo dragons from Indonesia. And that was just the beginning.

“The Garden Family Sanctuary was founded almost a hundred years ago by siblings Apollo and Persephone Garden,” Lyon says. “Having been named after the god of the healing and the goddess of flowers, they had always loved helping nature and animals.”

“They started out with an animal shelter that took in any and all animals,” Vallia continued for her brother. “They had a very clear rule about being a no-kill shelter. The more popular they became, the more room they needed. And since they already came from a rich family, they bought more land. And over the years, it grew into the sanctuary you see today.”

“With the amount of animals and plants coming, there has been chat about buying land on another island to expand the sanctuary,” Lyon said. “Which means more area to protect from smugglers and poachers.”

“Your French is very good,” Marinette compliments them.

“Thank you, we’ve had years of practice,” Vallia says.

“It helped when we hosted a few French fashion designers here a few years ago for a charity fashion show,” Lyon said.

Adrien caught the smirk that Lyon sent his way. It made the blond blush.

The group continued walking through the sanctuary. A few of the animals curiously looked at the group, but chose not to get near them. There were a few did cuddle up to the twins, who happily petted them before sending them away with a treat in their mouth.

But even as the twins tried to talk about the sanctuary, Lila was still telling her lies as the classmates not under her spell surrounded her. They listened to her more than they did their actual tour guides.

“Yeah, poachers and smugglers try to get in all the time,” she was saying. “The first time I was here, I saw one and tried to tell the employees and they didn’t believe me. They certainly did after I single-handedly stopped him from taking a rare blue tiger.”

“That is so cool, Lila,” Rose unknowingly encouraged more lying.

“They should make you a partner here if you caught a poacher that they did not even know was there,” Alya said.

“They wanted to, but my mother said I was too young to be part of a business,” Lila says.

Adrien saw the twins look at each other as they hear what is being said. He knew that while the two were mostly quiet around those they do not know, other than when they gave tours, they would definitely not take liars sitting down. They were extremely protective of their family, which was why Lyon practiced archery while Vallia is an expert with the bo-staff.

“The Garden family would never offer someone outside of the family a part of the sanctuary,” Lyon stated, making the class look at him.

“We would appreciate you not tell such tall tales about such a charitable family,” Vallia crossed her arms. “They are well-respected by all of Greece and do not deserve to have such lies told about them.”

The class looked very insulted at the accusation of Lila being a liar, which happened whenever anyone said that. It happened more than you think since Bustier’s class was the only one in the entire school that actually believed her. Everyone else knew that Lila was nothing but a liar.

“Something tells me that things are about to get interesting,” Juleka whispered to the rest of their group.

“You’re the one that knows them, Adrien,” Marinette says. “What do you think they’ll do?”

“I’ve been in contact with them for years,” Adrien said. “And from all I know about them, it’s a slight miracle that Lyon hasn’t already threatened to shoot her with an arrow.”

“Does he do that often,” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

“Only to those that really anger him, really annoy him, or threaten his family,” Adrien said. “But that last part also includes the sanctuary and all of the animals kept here.”

“Guess we should be thankful that he doesn’t have them on him right now,” Kim says. “Even if he could get rid of our liar problem with a single shot.”

“Lyon was actually scouted by the coach of the Greek Olympian archery team,” Adrien tells them. “But Lyon doesn’t like competition. He says that they are nothing but barbaric events meant to to do nothing but enlarge egos and decrease braincells.”

“Can are class even lose what they don’t have,” Marinette smirked.

All of them laughed at her joke. When Marinette got sassy and sarcastic, it was hilarious. She could sass-talk like nobody’s business.

“Haw dare you,” Lila put a hand over her heart and then started up the crocodile tears again. “How could you be so mean to me?”

That was when her sheep glared at the twins.

“Lila is not a liar,” Alya was her main supporter as usual. “You’re nothing but simple employees. I bet you do not even know the Garden family. Lila, on the other hand, is basically an honorary member of their family.”

Both twins crossed their arms this time, staring down the class.

“Let us fully introduce ourselves,” Lyon narrowed his eyes at them. “My name is Lyon Garden and this is my twin sister, Vallia Garden. Our family owns this sanctuary and neither of us nor the rest of their family have ever met this girl.”

Adrien was seriously smirking at this point. He had seen this coming and was very glad that it had finally was. Especially since Lila did not even get the number of family members right. There were two Garden parents, but the children were another story. Lyon and Vallia were the youngest of the family, but Vallia was the only girl and they had two older brothers.

“You’re probably just lying to make Lila look bad because you’re jealous,” Alix glared at the twins. “She’s connected to the Gardens while you are not.”

“Don’t believe us, we don’t care, but we do have a friend in your class that knows who we are,” Vallia giggled. “Isn’t that right, Adrien?”

The sheep looked at the model. He only smirked as he joined Lyon and Vallia’s side.

“You two certainly know how to make an impression,” Adrien tells them, chuckling.

“If we really wanted to make an impression, I would have started at my favorite wolf den,” Lyon snickered. “But I would have been too tempted to order my wolves to eat them.”

Adrien laughed at the looks of horror on his classmates’ faces.

“If you guys haven’t figured it out, it was my family that the twins were talking about before,” Adrien says. “We were the ones that came here for the charity fashion show. It was great to meet the two youngest members of the Garden family.”

“So these are the sheep that follow that liar like lost puppies,” Vallia looked at Adrien. “The liar that doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer?”

“Got it in one, Vallia,” Adrien says. “And she’s been telling lies about your family since this field trip started. She even said that your family was three girls and two boys.”

The twins rolled their eyes.

“Wow,” Lyon shook his head. “Vallia might wish she had a sister, it’s just us and our two older brothers with our parents.”

Vallia playfully slapped her brother’s shoulder.

While Adrien took his two friends over to the rest of his group to introduce them, the rest of the class finally seemed to get that Lila did indeed lie to them. They turned on her like lions on an antelope and started yelling at her for lying to them.

The twins made mental notes to contact their parents about needing to sue a girl for slander and defamation.

#ml salt #alya salt #lila salt #Lila exposed #original character #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom

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penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories · 4 years

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No Matter How Many Skies Have Fallen

A/N: I really have nothing to say for myself at this point.

Sequel chapter to this fic here, if you’d like to catch up.

Thank you to @caffeine-in-an-iv for being my incredible beta and to @maybege for letting me rant to you and giving me so many wonderful ideas when I hit my walls. Also to the Obi-Wan fandom in general: Y’all are some of the kindest, most supportive people I’ve ever encountered on this hell site. Thank you for your support and your content!

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Force Sensitive! Fem! Reader (no Y/N)

Word Count: 11.9K (I lost all control)

Warnings: SMUT!!! Soft Dom! Obi rights, Also, Sub! Obi vibes, Foodplay (but not how you’d think), Inappropriate use of the Force, Voice Kink, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Hands Appreciation Society, As Usual: Too Many Feelings For Porn, Emotional Competence Kink, Trust Kink, TW: Pregnancy, TW: A character draws blood on themself unknowingly

Title from one of my favorite quotes:

“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”

-D.H. Lawrence

What infinite irreverence the galaxy has for Obi-Wan Kenobi.

As if his master and only semblance of a parent wasn’t taken from him when he needed him most.

As if a boy who needed a father wasn’t entrusted to Obi-Wan quickly following, far too young and full of his own loss.

As if he wasn’t thrust onto the pedestal of parenthood when he really only wanted to be a brother.

As if that isn’t what they became anyway, and as if that wasn’t the exact cloud that hung over the atmosphere of your lives ever since you’d arrived on Tatooine.

As if the being whose life signature resided in your abdomen didn’t throw a punch into each of those blooming bruises by its very existence.

Which is why, you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you couldn’t tell him yet.

Normally, it’d be no small feat to keep something of this scale from him. But these days, he’s so focused on having his shields up around you, keeping you from both being hurt by or helping with his torments.

You have to take great care to control your body language, because even when he’s shut off from you in the Force, his keen perceptiveness will pick up on something being off anyway.

The art of a convincing lie is having layers. If he senses your feelings and decides to dig, then only give up one layer, and he’ll stop looking.

In this case, it’s your worry over him. It is true you’re trying to shield him from feeling that, not wanting him to carry the burden of it on top of having to work through his own pain.

But it’s not everything you’re trying to hide from him. So you let a small projection of your fear over his well-being escape, like you’re losing control of your feelings. It’s enough to convince him, and something critical inside you dies at the victory every time.

He deserves your honesty, and you’ve never given him anything less until now.

You hate how well your strategic deceit takes root. Because only part is due to your talent as a liar. The rest comes from how much he trusts you.

You’re not stupid, though. You know it’s only a matter of time before the biological changes in your body betray you.

Obi-Wan said he needed time, and you’re going to give him as long as you possibly can before dropping this anvil on him, hoping the further he gets from it all, the better off he’ll be.

You could kick yourself for not being more careful. You hadn’t missed any dose of your herbal Ho’Din contraceptive. It was one of the few things you shoved in your bag with the mere minutes you had to leave Coruscant for good. It was from a reliable medicinal shop, and there’s no good reason it should have failed in any way.

But here you were anyway.

Of course, there are options that free you from the obligation of carrying the child to term. All are expensive, and Tatooine is sorely lacking in any trustworthy medical facilities. The alternative methods could put your own life in danger as well.

Even if it wasn’t, you’d feel so strange making that kind of decision without Obi-Wan. Not that he wouldn’t support whatever decision you needed to make for yourself if you did, but going behind his back is something you’re not sure his trust could recover from.

And really, far too much has been decided for him in his life.

The worst reason why you can’t bring yourself to move towards any solution that ends the pregnancy now, the reason you abhor, is because somewhere within you, despite the awfulness of the time and place, you want this baby.

You couldn’t give a definitive explanation for yourself, but you did. Undoubtedly

Obi-Wan doesn’t press when you ask to cease your combat training for a time, asking to start learning the new offerings of the Jedi texts instead.

He’s concerned when you tell him, but if he’s suspicious as for your reasoning, he doesn’t show it outwardly, at least.

The way he doesn’t even ask about why, though: It makes you wonder if he had a reason all of his own why he’d rather not fight, even in imitation.

The Jedi writings given to Obi-Wan by Master Yoda are often more cryptic and mystifying than logically applicable without deciphering, which you are at first annoyed by, but then strangely thankful for, as Obi-Wan verbally processes his understandings of it, knowing what he does of the Jedi way, and you adding your thoughts from the stance of fresh eyes.

The conversations distract wonderfully, and you savor any way you still get to connect with him.

You don’t push for the ways he doesn’t allow you to connect with him anymore. The way he won’t let you in his mind. Because now, you too have a reason to not let him in yours.

*******

When it’s time to go into town for supplies again, you make up some feeble excuse which you know Obi-Wan sees through as a lie, and this time, he does pry, eyes soft and concerned. He knows you love going to the markets. You simply explain that you’re tired, which is true enough to satisfy him, leaving you behind with a kiss on your forehead before you watch him saddle up your eopie and ride off.

You sigh, sagging against the closed door once he’s disappeared into the horizon. You do love the markets. They’re the most colorful thing the planet has to offer, textiles and rugs and shiny, hanging things.

But the spices. Fragrant and potent, usually so appetizing and intoxicating, you know would turn your stomach alone. And that doesn’t even account for the strange meats being cooked at different vendors, and Maker help you if anyone was selling raw meat of any sort today. You’ve done your best to keep your nausea at bay, at times even tapping into the Force for centering when the world felt like it was rocking. But you know the market would be too much, too many variables.

It’s not a fast journey, even on the eopie, and you don’t expect Obi-Wan to be back for hours. Which is why when you hear a knock on your door, the tool in your hand clatters to the floor, as does the remnants of your project.

You quickly grab one of the long staffs you and Obi-Wan had only begun to use in your defense training, trying to recall the lessons as adrenaline begins to rush through your veins. Tatooine isn’t known for its pleasant company, and if anyone was going to try to rob your home, now would be as good a time as any.

The knock sounds again, and you shout from the inside, “What do you want?!”

“A peace treaty in the form of baked goods,” comes the feminine voice, one you recognize.

Opening the door, you lower the weapon in your hand as Beru Lars blinks at you.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were…” You step aside, gesturing for her to come in.

She waves a hand, dismissive. “I understand.”

You lead her over to the small living area as you fix two glasses of water from the kitchen.

When you set them down on the table, Beru speaks. “I apologize for the intrusion, if there was another way of contacting you before coming here…”

“It’s absolutely fine, I’m glad to have you.” You smile in what you hope is an assuring way. “Although, I’m surprised at it just being you. Where’s Owen?”

Her eyes flick to the stone floor. “He um… doesn’t exactly know I’m here. He’s out on a business deal today.”

You feel your eyebrows go up at that, waiting for her to continue. But instead, she changes the subject. “Where’s Ben?”

“In town. We needed some things from the market.”

Awkwardness settles in as a conversation topic evades you.

She breaks the beat of quiet. “Here, I brought these for you.”

You take the basket in her hands from her, peeling back the thick woven cloth to reveal a simple form of bread. It looks so appetizing your stomach clenches, and you instantly realize you haven’t had anything since breakfast.

But then the smell hits you, hard and powerful, and stars, it’s just bread, there’s nothing that should do that about bread, but you’re on your feet in a minute, forsaking the basket on the ground as you bolt to the fresher, barely making it in time to the sonic sink before you start heaving.

In a moment, you feel soft hands at the nape of your neck, gently holding back the fabric of your shirt and blowing cool air as you continue to wretch.

By the time everything has settled again, you’ve dealt with the aftertaste in your mouth, and splashed on your face with a precious cup of cool water, hot shame rises in your cheeks at how this must seem to Beru.

You wipe at your face with a rag, half muffling your words when you address her. “I’m so sorry, I’m sure they’re absolutely delicious, It really has nothing to do…”

“How far along are you?”

Your spine straightens instantly, and you let the cloth drop to the floor.

“I… what?”

Now she’s the one to flush. “My apologies, it’s just that it’s known for being a very gentle bread, it’s one my mother used to feed me when my stomach ached. If that smell turned you... I just assumed, and I shouldn’t have.”

Your lips purse as you consider your options. It’d be easy to say nothing, or just to nod.

“Two months,” you hear your own voice answer despite yourself. You’ve never been one for easy anyway.

A surge of emotion wells up in you at even being able to speak it aloud, aloud to another human, and next thing you know, to your absolute horror, you’re crying into your hands as your shoulders crumple in on themselves.

Why now, of all times? In front of Beru Lars? Whom you know accepted Luke with her husband without question because they couldn’t biologically have any children of their own?

“I’m… so… sorry,” You manage to choke out through the sobs, disgusted at your own lack of control.

At some point Beru must join you on the floor, patting her hand soothingly on your back. “Shhh, it’ll be alright. You’ll see. It’s not so bad having a young one around, you and Ben have so much to look forw…”

“He doesn’t know.”

Her hand pausing briefly on your back is the only indication she gives of shock.

“Would he not be happy?”

You take a steadying breath in, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t know,” you whisper, small and almost frightened to let the room hear you say it.

It falls silent again, but it echoes around in your brain, bouncing against your thoughts until you feel the onset of a headache.

After you’re to a numb enough state to enjoy yourself, you and Beru make tea and bring it back to the living area.

She lifts her glass to yours, clinking them. “To secrets kept from men and the mischievous company they bring.”

Your head now throbs with pain, but you smile anyway. “Thank you,” you say to her, and you mean it so very much.

********

The next time Obi-Wan goes into town, you’re feeling well enough to go with him.

You’re not visiting the food portion of the market, after all, so you’re not as much of a risk to set your stomach off. He’s taken to fixing small machinery for trading with the Jawas recently, the extra income helping with the projects around the house.

There’s a trap door that you found within the first day of being there. The staircase carved out of the bedrock beneath the hut leads to a small room that has now served as additional storage and a place for Obi-Wan to work. It’s also quite cool during the day, so if you can stand the smell of the various meats hung to dry, you’ll sit down there with some sort of project, or even reading material if you come upon it.

So today, he’s looking for a few specific tools that will streamline his working.

It doesn’t take long to find a promising stall among the maze of shopkeepers, selling everything from trinkets to weaponry of questionable legality. Obi-Wan finds what he needs easily enough, and it looks like the trip is going to be as efficient as it is successful as you walk through alleyways with him.

At some point, he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently, projecting an assuring strand of affection toward you. It’s such a small gesture, but you’ll never tire of the feeling of his hand clasped in yours.

You’re almost back to where the eopie, Rooh, as he named her, is stabled when Obi-Wan abruptly slows his pace, dropping into a stall. An alarm goes off in your head when you watch him pick up a frivolous trinket on a table that you know he has no interest in.

You open your mouth to inquire at his actions, but it answers itself once you see him glance out of his peripheral vision to where the holonews plays in the stall adjacent.

Battle footage on what you recognized to be Kashyyk at the presence of the many Wookies plays with the Emperor addressing the viewers in a very two-dimensional, sugar-coated, thinly-concealed threat to any other world that would try to resist occupation.

There’s wreckage and uncensored violence, and you turn your head away.

“May it be known that Lord Vader is quite capable and willing to help those into compliance that require assistance... “

The item in his hands crushes, ceramic tile cracking into his hands, breaking the skin and drawing out drips of red.

But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even seem to register the glass he’s pushing into his own hand. His eyes are wide and he makes a wounded noise from the back of his throat, eyes peeled to the holonews now, not even trying to feign disinterest.

His signature sparks, giving a flash and then a severe cry of anguish, and it hits you then. Pieces of information coming together as you feel Obi-Wan tear apart at seams.

Anakin Skywalker turned to the Dark Side, and Obi-Wan thought him dead. There’s a new Sith Lord now; the correlation and timing can’t be coincidence.

The Toydarian male behind the stall shouts something about paying for it in full, and you quickly hand over the credits with a glare.

You start to pull Obi-Wan’s other hand off the table, but you quickly realize your mistake in that.

The moment it isn’t holding his weight anymore, his knees start to give, and you’ve only a second to react, jamming your body under his arm to keep him upright. His momentum nearly pulls you forward, but you plant your feet and remember at the last second to call on the Force to assist you.

He seems to come to himself enough to walk somewhat as you steer him to the nearest alley away from the vendors.

He braces a hand on the stone wall, but even it isn’t enough as he drops to his knees. He doesn’t even seem to have the will to stand.

Crouching beside him, you place one of your hands on his chest.

“I…. I…” The tremor in his usually so crisp wording and steady voice crushes your chest, making it hard to breathe. “I failed him. I failed him.”

“Obi-Wan,” you start, trying to grasp at anything, everything to comfort him, not even thinking of how you can’t call him that here, even if there’s no one in sight.

If he registers your call, he doesn’t let on, continuing in his whispers to the wall. “He was burning. Burning, but I couldn’t do it. It would have been mercy to kill him, it was my mandate to do it, but I could not...” his voice gives out on the last word, and his shoulders fall forward in a shuddering inhale that transforms into a cut-short sob on its exhale.

“And now…” as the words pour from him, his shields fall, and so do the floodgates on his emotions, and it takes all the training you know to not be washed away in the torrential current of his grief. Does he even know he’s doing it, or has the insurmountable weight of his burden finally overridden his innate control over them?

“I’ve sentenced him to a fate worse than death.” He’s only barely choked out the end of his thought before his shoulders start to shake in earnest and he crumples in on himself as he begins to weep for his brother.

Giving no heed to the odd angle, you throw your arms around him. Trying to get your arms around his body is exactly the embodiment of the feeling of the moment, this anguish you don’t even begin to be enough to cover.

What could you say? What could you do? What would even begin to…

When you press your fingers to his temple, it’s light, a show of how unforced this is, how much he can say no if he needs. Because this isn’t for you. No, it’d be so much easier to not know the exact depth of his pain and rip your chest open with that knowledge. But you’re offering it, meaning it absolutely, desperate for him to take the hand offered to him. “Please let me in. Don’t do this alone. Let me…”

Then he’s pulling you in, not just letting you come in yourself, clinging to you like a person drowning. You remember to steady, to try to keep your own head above the water as wave after surging, overpowering wave of soul-crippling agony like you’ve never felt it engulf you in their surge.

You can’t hold out against it no matter how hard you try, so you refocus from centering yourself to pulling his signature into yours as you wrap your arms tighter around his torso.

And you begin to weep with him.

*********

The suns are drifting low by the time both of you have any intelligible thought, far too late to start the journey back to the hut.

At the inn, as Obi-Wan falls into the beginnings of a restless sleep, a thought emerges, clear and crisp in its awful truth.

You cannot tell him for a long while still.

*******

It’s different now. Because when he wakes in the night, he doesn’t give you falsehoods you see right through. He lets you into the terror and distortional dreams that all reside over one theme.

There’s silence in the first days after. Just silent tears and still embraces and the way time seems to freeze when grief is at its worst.

But then he starts talking. It comes in little pieces, then in larger ones.

The loudest thing his signature screams is guilt.

You tell him how it isn’t his fault, how Anakin is responsible for his own choices, but he just gives you a new reason every time as to why it is his fault, how he could have stopped it.

Because even in what he considers his worst failure, his verbiage is indicative of how it’s not his own image and pride hurting that he’s even considered. All of his thoughts, all of them, are on what Anakin needed that he didn’t give.

At first, it’s just impressions from his mind, unsorted, blurry thoughts and feelings, but it eventually begins to become words.

“After his mother died… I know that he blamed me. How couldn’t he? He told me of his dreams, dreams he knew were foresights, but I dismissed them, multiple times, at that. And the council… advised me against comforting him, but he… I… I did anyway.” His shoulders are forward, body sagging with unsureness that doesn’t fit him right in the slightest. “But it was far too late. I know there was something pivotal about the death of his mother, and I am...” he hesitates, seemingly not because he doesn’t know what to speak, but because he does. “Terrified. Terrified it’s all because I didn’t validate him sooner. If I had not...” His voice breaks off, as he shuts his eyes.

Fear is not something admired by the Jedi, you know. When he speaks of his own emotions, he speaks them like he’s confessing them.

And as he confesses and confesses, you comfort where you can, cry with him when you cannot.

*****

The swells of sorrow ebb and flow in their intense bursts and receding stillness, and despite the moments of not being able to breathe under the weight of it, there are miniscule, almost violating, hysterical intervals where smiles and life spring to the surface, gasping for air.

Or in this case, the inexplicable desire to dance.

You don’t even really know when you start, simply going about cleaning clothing in the sonic washer, and the next, some ridiculous, repetitive tune sweeps you to move your hips and feet, uncoordinated and graceless. The tune itself played from a datachip, scrapped with some pieces Obi-Wan was repurposing to make repairs. You’re not even familiar with the type of music, and it’s hardly the type of music you’d normally choose, but you find that today, it’s an improvement on the quiet that falls upon the house as Obi-Wan works outdoors.

The song swings into a bridge, and you slide across the stone floor, imitating something you saw in a music holo years ago, as you do, your foot catches on the rug you recently added, sending you fumbling for your footing. You eventually catch it before you fall, but as you look up, you decide to lower yourself to the ground anyway at the sight of Obi-Wan, leaning up against the door frame, watching you with an amused expression, the fingers of one hand tracing between his lips and chin.

You sit splayed as tactless and gangly as you danced and let out a short, startled laugh.

“Please, don’t stop on my account. I was quite enjoying myself.”

Maker, could you just hide under the rug you tripped over? “Please tell me you haven’t been standing there long.”

He pushes off his lean on the wall, crossing the room to you. “I won’t tell you lies, my love.”

Shame twists in your gut at his words, chasing the laughter in your throat away. But Obi-Wan extends a hand down, and you take it, letting him draw you to your feet.

He kisses the back of your hand before taking it in his, extending the clasp out to the side of your bodies as his other hand rests hot on the small of your waist.

“But I will join you, if you don’t mind a style change.”

“I don’t know how to dance like this,” you say, factually.

“Then allow me to teach you.” When you look in his eyes, they’re lined with the etches of heartache still, but there’s something else too, brimming to the surface.

“What, to this music?” You give your last, unconvincing protest.

He simply drops his forehead to yours, and the small sounds of the room fade to white as a sweet, moving melody replaces it. It’s not perfectly clear, and it takes a moment to realize that it’s because it’s coming from Obi-Wan’s memory.

The music has a distant, foggy quality, and it has potential to be eerie, but instead, it just lifts you into an ethereal feeling.

He steps, and your feet follow, not as graceful, but he makes it easy for you, the steps hinted out in his thoughts before taking them in actuality.

When you start to feel confident enough in the movements, you look up at him. “Does this mean I can teach you my dances next?”

He laughs, laughs, unabashed and with no emotion harbored under it, and some torn piece of your heart mends at the sound.

“Certainly not.”

You laugh too, even at the thought of him trying. The laugher rolls into a smooth quiet, and you let yourself bask in the feel of his body against yours, the press of his hand on your back as you rest your cheek against him.

Obi-Wan cradles you to him, forsaking the pattern of the dance as he encompasses you in his arms, lowering his lips to your cheek, then your mouth in a blazing kiss.

He takes your hand in his, lifting it above your head. Then you’re guided into a spin, and the room spins double with it as you abandon all endeavors of trying to get the dance correct. Your hand drops protectively to your belly before you can even think better of it, and by the time you know you’re not going to throw up, it’s too late. You already feel Obi-Wan’s unmistakable concern right before he asks, “What’s wrong?” extending an arm out toward you.

His complexion is ashen with worry, and when you don’t respond, you feel him start to reach out to your mind; a spike of panic zaps down your spine, and you’re suddenly not sure you’re not going to throw up after all.

Your shields crash down, not enough time for subtlety, and he retracts both his hand and inquiring tendril of energy as hurt and confusion shape his features.

You can’t do this. You can’t keep up this facade or cover this moment with a lie you know he’ll see through. But you can’t tell him either. After all the weight he’s carrying, the weight of the being that grows in you should be yours alone. You can’t thrust that upon him.

But it’s a delusion that you can keep this from him forever. You’re going to hurt him one way or another, and the weight of your silence and lies multiply every day you insulate him from the truth.

You take in a shuddering breath as dread settles into your bones. You know what you have to do.

Even as you slowly lower your shields, opening your signature, your mind screams at you in opposite directions, ripping you in half, and your hand shoots out to the nearest wall to stabilize yourself. How could you be so sadistic to tell him this? How could you not tell him? After all the trust you have in each other?

But he doesn’t take the invitation. “I will not touch your mind if you are still unsure you want me to,” he says softly but resolutely as he approaches you, but stays an unthreatening distance away, as if approaching a frightened animal.

No, no, no. You won’t have him being the one to sturdy you through this. You need to be strong, be ready, don’t force him to coddle you through the blast to his own chest.

So you dial down your own emotions and switch your absorption to amplifying the still tiny, barely recognizable life you’ve been carefully censoring ever since you heard it yourself.

You want to close your eyes, blockade the pain of both how it impacts him and how it will impact you, but that’s not how you two do things.

Summoning every iota of bravery and resolve running in your veins, you force yourself to look up at him as you watch understanding coat him.

His eyes go wide, and his hands clench and flex at his sides in an erratic, nervous pattern.

You can’t keep your signature open to his mind’s reaction, you just can’t. He’s seen enough, and you can put your shields up again. His face is enough to confront all on its own.

Obi-Wan steps toward you, slowly, dazed in a completely uncharacteristic way. With the way he seems to ever be prepared for the blows life throws at him, you hate how you have to be the harbinger for the second one that’s knocked him off his feet.

When he stops in front of you, he places his hands on either of your shoulders and looks into your eyes, searching for confirmation, and you nod, trying to not let fear seep into your expression.

One of his hands covers his mouth as he takes it in.

And then he’s sinking in front of you, off of his feet indeed, and onto his knees. You want to follow, ready to hold him through the heartache sure to follow, at the second child he didn’t ask for while he still grieves the loss of the first.

But his hands instead take purchase on your stomach, tightening the fabric of your tunic around the barely-visible bump before bunching it up and lifting, just enough so he can tilt his forehead against the skin there.

You can feel him reaching out, not taking him long at all to find what he’s searching for, and curiosity beats self-preservation at the last moment, prompting you to open your mind again, just for you to be able to catch elation coursing through Obi-Wan.

You don’t even bother trying to stifle your confusion as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.

Sinking to your knees to meet him, you take his face in your hands, trying to make sense of it all as he takes your hand in his. “I never... “ when his voice comes out unsteady, he clears his throat and tries again. “I never thought I’d have... That we could… didn’t occur to me that now...stars above, how long have you known?”

You don’t recall when you start crying, but tears are falling freely down your cheeks as you shake your head. “I’m so sorry. I… I would never want to keep something like this from you, Obi-Wan, but I couldn’t tell you, not with everything, not with all you already have…and i’m so sorry.”

“Oh, heavens, no. You should not have to do this alone. Please don’t keep things from me, even if you think it to be for my sake. We can…”

You fix him with a pointed, unamused stare. He exhales as he must notice his hypocrisy.

“Your point is well-put and taken, but the sentiment still stands. We’ll not keep secrets from each other anymore. Do we have an accord?”

Despite it all, you smile at his overly-formal phrasing, something you’d normally have a quip about if it weren’t for the concern still nagging at you.

“Are you not angry then? Or disappointed?” you watch him carefully, praying to any deity listening that he doesn’t concoct some half truth to placate you. His first instinct is always to protect, but you’d never want it at expense of his authenticity.

Bafflement marks his brow at first, then he takes your face in his hands. “Darling, no.” He says your name, gathering every bit of your attention. “I dreamt of you. During the war, when I was away. I did not sleep well, even then, but when I did, I’d sometimes dream of you, holding a child that I knew to be ours. When I woke, I would remember it so vividly, so painfully, because I never thought that was an attainable future for us.”

But that doesn’t need to matter if you… do you want this child?” His eyes are so full of hope, and it was the last thing you expected, but here he is laying it down on the altar of your preference, and maker, are you glad those two things aren’t opposing each other.

Because his hope and yours are one in the same, and once he knows it too, at your whispering, choked, “yes,” he’s clutching you in his arms.

And for the second time in a month, you’re both huddled on the ground in tears. The first, bowing under the mass of catastrophe. Now, at the glowing relief of the sprouting of a dream sown in tears, too tender before to even say aloud.

But now? You’re saying it, back and forth, from him to you as your walls fall, permitting him into your mind as he welcomes you into his, and finally you take true comfort once again in the home you’ve built in each other.

*******

The night after, you lie side by side, hand in hand, on a blanket splayed not far from the hut. The suns have sunken, but the pinks and oranges of their palette still paint the sky where it hasn’t yet turned to midnight cobalt. The light of the lantern gives off a similar hue, dousing everything in your reach in soft, warm hues.

It has taken Obi-Wan some convincing, being so out in the open with everything he had to worry about wasn’t his first choice, but you compromised for a small alcove in the rock formations which surrounded you on two sides. More easily defensible. Not that he needed it, but if he was cautious before, it was borderline unbearable now. With the added danger of the Empire knowing without doubt that he lived. With more than ever to lose.

So, he was in charge of safety, you were in charge of snacks. And if they so happened to be almost entirely comprised of those melons you couldn’t quite get enough of lately? That was no one’s business except yours. You brought a few things you knew Obi-Wan liked too, of course.

What little remains of the miscellaneous spread you push to the edge of the blanket so you can both lie down.

“I dare say it’s almost pleasant out tonight.”

You turn your head to him, a snort ready at him discussing the weather of all things, but it instead forms a cloud in your throat at the sight of him.

His eyes are closed, hair rustling in the slight evening breeze, a tranquil ease over his profile.

The small patches of grey in the part of his beard next to his ears catch the first glints of moonlight in a way the rest of his hair doesn’t, giving them away.

The mellisonant lowness of his voice brings you back to yourself, cheeks heating.

“I can feel you staring, little one.” He opens his eyes, leisurely rolling to his side. “Some say it’s quite impolite.” Slanting over you, he lifts a brow, daring your response.

“And is that a problem?” You look up at him through your eyelashes, feigning innocence.

Obi-Wan’s gaze follows back up to the stars, as he plays right along, pretending to have to think on it. “I suppose it depends.”

“On?”

“On whether or not you allow me to return the impropriety,” he responds with a coy smile, moving back to you, so close now you can feel his exhales on your cheek.

Warmth blooms through you as you answer back, “You can always look, Obi-Wan.” You lift yourself to close the short distance between your face and his, pressing your lips together, which he deepens right away. Using the hand not supporting half his body off of you still, he fans out his fingers across your belly, towing the line between caressing gently and clutching protectively.

You pull your lips back from his as an uninvited slither of insecurity slips into your chest.

He senses it, of course, so you speak before he even needs to ask. “Are you really, truly, certain this is what you want? Now? I don’t want you to just say so because…and we could wait, we have...”

“I am,” he says, adamantly, before you even have a chance to finish. His eyes flash to the side. “I…” He rolls back onto his back, looking straight up as he talks seemingly half to you, half to himself. “There is not much I know for certain these days. Some days… I scarcely can remember who I am anymore.”

He turns his eyes back to you, unwavering. “There are seldom few things I haven’t questioned of late, and my love for you isn’t one of them. And from the moment I’ve known, from the very first instant you let me feel the life within you, my love for them hasn’t been one either.”

Your thoughts split into two, one wanting to lean into it, to take him for his word that’s always true, and the other cautioning you, telling you to keep distant and watch for the surface level honesty he gives that hides the brutal one he safeguards you from.

But you’re not hiding anymore, feelings unconcealed in your energy and on your face, so he leans back into you, grasping your arm in his hand, squaring your shoulders to him. You cringe at yourself when you know he’s heard the impression of you questioning. It’s redundant, but self-doubt always is. “Know, please know, my darling.” Taking your hand in his, he brings it up to his temple with an insistence that you have no desire to counter.

And it’s there. Right there and sparking in its clarity, right at the threshold of his mind as you enter it. How much he means his words, no holds barred, no cleverly crafted glazes to an unly underbelly of reality. His reality was this, how severely he craves starting a family with you. How much he already loves the being within you, how he looks forward to the day he gets to hold them in his arms.

The fear is there too, quiet, but not kept from you. The fear of failing as a father, unsure of assuming any role that resembled a mentor again, all-too-familiar with the ghost that will float over him in every lesson he teaches.

What shocks you there is his faith in you. In how much he’s already learned from you about the impact of open affection, in how you don’t let your feelings lead you, but you let them breathe, not suffocate them. It’s part of how he even can acknowledge his fears to himself and to you without berating himself under the too-simple phrase “fear leads to the dark side.” There’s truth in it, but also inaccuracy.

Because he’s afraid, and yet, there is so much light in the acknowledging of it to himself, and in that very act, it loses much of any power it could have had over him. Oh, how deeply he wishes he could have articulated that understanding to Anakin.

The pain is fresh, but so is his anticipation for the future, swirling together in a potent drink, and his throat bobs with the effort to swallow them down simultaneously.

He knows you’ll help ground him through it, he trusts you, even in his uncertainty in himself.

It breaks your heart but also warms it: the knowledge that he lets you into that place where he keeps the questions of himself, the place only you and the man who’s caused most of this doubt have been permitted.

With a thankful short farewell, you part from his mind as you know exactly what you want to do.

The remains of your snacks still rest on the edge of the blanket, including the shells of the deep purple-pigmented melons. The one draw-back to their delightful taste was how badly they stained your fingers. You had to break them into tiny pieces, plopping them into your mouth without allowing them to touch your lips unless you wanted your mouth to stain too.

But right now? The staining quality was just what you needed.

Although first you needed a blank canvas.

“May I take your tunics off?” you ask, sitting up.

Despite a short twitch of confusion and then interest, Obi-Wan follows, raising himself up into a kneel, slightly lifting his arms in compliance.

The paleness of his skin catches all the light of the lantern, highlighting your view as you slowly slide the fabric up and off, gliding your hands up the line of hair dipping below his navel as it becomes more exposed. It grants you a quiet, steep intake of breath from him and you suddenly give halt momentarily, distracted by the alluring appetite you’ve created.

No, you won’t give in. Not yet. He needs to know this.

You take one of the broken pieces of melon rind in your hand, where little tart bits of the fruit still cling, dribbling pigment, but before your finger makes contact with the taut skin of his chest, you pull back at the realization you might have bitten off more than you can chew.

How do you even begin to describe him? Obi-Wan is so many things at once, so many attributes, and every descriptor that comes to mind falls blatantly short of him.

Then you recall Obi-Wan going through the motions of Alchaka, watching his body fight to maintain the poses at times. Being such a personal practice, you felt honored that he let you see him go through the exercises, and even more honored that he opened up to you about the purpose behind it later. It was an exercise of both physicality and Force use, and the goal was absolute exhaustion. That was the destination. Trying, knowing from the start that he’ll fall short in the end, but doing it all the same. Because there’s so, so much to be said for the trying.

So you do. You bring the messy fingertip to his clavicle, smearing the first word you know to absolutely be true of him, as if starting the premise with a whisper of I know you’re even more than the sum all of these singular praises.

The word “complex” appears in your penmanship on his skin as you drag it to life. You look up to his eyes, and his curiosity is clear there, but also so is the tenderness that is elemental to any time he looks at you. And just like that, you have your next word.

Kind.

And at the way he flushes so lovely for you at that?

Beautiful.

You feel his protest before you see it, the objection in his signature, and you know you’re going to have to switch methods.

Just then, a droplet from where you’ve written the last word on his pectoral falls, down, down, threatening toward the hem of his trousers, but you’re fast, dropping your mouth down and catching it all on your tongue before it can stain the bleached beige of his remaining clothing.

When his stubborn revolt at the affirmation quiets in his mind in exchange for a flash of searing lust, you know exactly how you’re going to continue.

Because Obi-Wan Kenobi, general, warrior, negotiator, Jedi Master, legend, has rarely ever been affirmed as such, and he squirms under the thick blanket of his humility and deprivation anytime someone endeavors.

So you need his mind to be preoccupied enough, guards down low enough, so he can even hear the message get through.

When you place your hands over his waistband, locking eyes in inquiry, stopping when he hesitates, scanning the area around you, vigilant as always. Overly so now.

“We’re alone. And wouldn’t you be able to sense it if we weren’t?”

He looks down at you as he answers. “If I stay mindful enough to do so, yes.”

Good, he’ll be even less prone to fight you if he has some of his mind sensing outward.

You look back up at him with the facial equivalent of asking “well?” to which Obi-Wan sighs in response. “Very well then.”

With your familiarity with ridding him of clothing, it only takes moments before you can finally taste him where you want to, where he’s already hard and swollen for you.

You know you won’t be able to take him as much as you want, a recently-developed overactive gag reflex preventing you. But it just so happens to be convenient tonight, as the resulting taunt should have him right where you want him.

A gentle kiss, right to the head of his cock is all the warning you give him before taking the whole tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around him, pulling a choked hum deep from his throat.

Oh, oh, Maker, have you done a grand miscalculation, because you forgot an entire factor in this equation: the way you have been borderline hysterical in hunger for him.

You’ve kept so much from him, and part of how you’ve even managed is starting to convince yourself of less than fact. Facts like how many times you’ve had to change underthings recently, physical evidence of desire unwilling to comply to your head’s demands. Facts like how you’ve literally had to bite your finger to keep the feelings at bay.

You’d expected changes in your body even before your belly grew, but this was one you hadn’t anticipated. In some ways, it wasn’t that different than usual. You never knew you could want someone with the breadth that you want Obi-Wan.

But this? Of late? It feels like it’s been amplified tenfold.

You’re not keeping any cards close to your chest anymore, but you do have to ignore your own body’s screaming cries as you complete this.

He needs to know.

Nerves still serenading his brain with feedback, you re-wet your finger with the purple juice and write the next words across his abdomen.

Wise.

Perceptive.

He’s caught on to your scheme by now, cued by the all-too appropriate addition of the last word, and he lets you know it, an impression projected, speechless but still unobstructed. He’s still powerless against it. Or rather, letting himself be powerless. Trusting you with the control he has left, trusting you in his vulnerable places. The places where he’s weak.

Strong.

The word spread over his right upper arm, where he’s obviously just that. But may the tint of the word bleed through his skin, may it run through his veins, because that’s how deep and deeper still that his strength runs. It’s in the way he doesn’t flaunt it. It’s in the way he chooses to wield it.

Gentle.

He closes his eyes, flinching at the onslaught of acclamation, and you dip your head down again, wrapping your lips around his cock, letting him slide to where you can take him comfortably, just starting to build a pace as his hips squirm in harmony with his suddenly erratic breaths. Oh, how you’d love to let him deeper, allow his cock past your lips beyond the teasing amount you can take now, but the little writhes his body gives in protest are enough to almost make you okay with how your mouth won’t agree with your ambitions. He says your name, groaned out in bliss as he cups a hand on your cheek.

His barriers are down, so it’s easy to hear when his deprecating thoughts quiet again, and you switch back to coloring him again.

You know the moment you look up at him that it’s a mistake, because he’s flushed, so torn, suspended in the limbo of your give and withdrawal, mouth ever so slightly open, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

You’re only human, so before you draw anything else, you bring your lips to his, which is yet another mistake, because among the many things Obi-Wan is, he is a deep kisser, and as his tongue delves into your mouth, your will power takes a devastating blow.

You pull back, reeling at the reminder of how easily he can take back control, knowing you have to complete this before you let him.

Stars, how you want to let him.

For now, you need that control back, so you take him into your mouth again, filthily wet and not nearly long enough as you quickly pull back, watching in satisfaction as he heaves forward at the loss, correcting himself quickly back into straight posture.

With a smirk, you drag your slippery, pigmented finger across his lower stomach.

Disciplined.

There’s so many more words, so much more he needs to know, and if you covered every inch of his skin in the smallest writing it still wouldn’t be sufficient of all that he is.

Or you could whisper it all through the Force, embed it all in his mind.

But because you’ve been there, know his mind inside and out, you know every time he sees his own skin, all he sees is the red of blood on his hands. The blood of his brother.

And that’s exactly why you’re going to stain it in your own colors. Take back territory and push back the front lines that the army of guilt has taken over on him.

Your Jedi, ever-adorned in unassuming beige, now drips in the color of royalty.

Charming.

Humble.

Confident.

Steadfast.

You’re only left with enough space for one more word, and you want some sort of conclusion to it all, something to summarize the expanse of the man kneeling in front of you.

Nothing can.

But maybe, just maybe, one word encapsulates what he is to you.

Treasure.

This time you do chant it across his thoughts, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you.

Cerulean blue blinks open, slowly, almost painfully and nearly overflowing with emotion.

Thank you, is all he says, unable or unwilling to say it out loud, much too heartfelt and newly-budded for that.

You know his pain has older roots than those tended to in this moment, but you vow to yourself that you’ll never stop trying.

Lowering your mouth around him once again, you don’t tease him anymore, at least not intentionally, even though you still can’t take more than half of him.

“Look at you, you’re…” he hisses in a breath as you swipe your tongue against that vein on the underside of him. “Stunning. You’re doing so well, little one.”

The taste of him compels you as much as his words, seizes you in spice-like addiction, and how interesting it’s going to be explaining that taste craving to him, among your sudden adoration for those damn melons.

“Darling, I’m…”

You feel it in his energy before he says it, already pulling off, replacing your mouth with your hand, dropping your lips down even lower, mouthing at his balls, and the feedback is instant. An outpouring crest of his pleasure blasting outward as he lets out a depraved moan, netting his hands into your hair.

Your hand is wet and so is where he’s spilled on his still flexing and releasing stomach, clear white maring the lettering halfway through “disciplined.” You’d clean it with your tongue if you weren’t sure how your overly sensitive taste buds would react now.

It’s not the first time you’ve had sex since you’ve known you were pregnant, but it’s the first time since he’s known, and it’s the first time you’re not hiding the symptoms. Before, you carefully shied away from anything that might give you away, and between the preoccupation of everything on his own mind he was trying to keep from you and his respect for your boundaries, he never pressed. He had questions in his eyes, but you knew how to carefully reveal partial vulnerabilities to keep him off your trail.

Your chest flares at the memory.

We’re not hiding now.

It’s your chant, your reminder, your comfort. How nothing of this caliber will be kept between you again.

His eyes confirm it, sincere and exact as they fight to break through their dazed slipping.

Never again. His voice in your head is home, so consoling it can and has put you to sleep before.

Right now, it wakes you up in a different light, dowsing you in heat as Obi-Wan takes your hand in his, wiping it on a piece of his discarded clothing before wiping the spend off himself.

Then he’s taking your face in both his hands tilting you up before kissing you soundly.

I love you, he says across the wire that ties your minds, the wire that keeps growing stronger every day. So, so very much.

You say it back, a fact as simple as breathing. You love him.

You want him, borderline need him the way you need your next inhale, you don’t say, but he must hear it anyway, because that cocky little smirk that’s been gone far too long is back.

“Shall we do something about that?”

You’re about to just lift your shift dress up and off in response, but he halts you, grasping your wrists.

“Allow me.”

He pulls you into another sultry kiss, completely neglecting the task of ridding you of clothing.

Or so you think.

There’s buttons all the way down the dress, and you’ve never used them, always wondering at their purpose if it can so easily lift over your head.

At first, you don’t even know he’s doing it until you start to feel the coolness of the night air on your nipples. Opening your eyes, you pull back from him to watch as seemingly in thin air, your buttons undo themselves.

“You needn’t seduce me further. You already know how much I need you,” you gasp, breathless from the kiss.

Obi-Wan just gives a small smile as he drops a hand, dragging it down your side, then down your thigh. “Hm. So impatient. All this from just pleasuring me?”

Maker, he knows! He knows that you are. You always have been, and it’s not as if you weren’t projecting your feelings too.

When he reaches a hand between your thighs, parting them and making a single, tempting stroke through them, his fingers come back glistening.

“I should think you could feel that I am.” You let the tide of your frustration spill over into your connection to his mind.

You know he had to hear you, but he gives no indication that he did.

“Mm. Desire needn’t always be indicatory of impatience,” he punctuates his statement with a hand at the base of your skull, tipping your head back to expose your neck. “I need you to be patient, little one. Let me savor you.” And with that, his mouth makes contact with your neck at the same time his other hand plays with one of your exposed nipples.

You whimper at the attention, quietly pleading with him for more. Among the still slight changes to your body, this has been the most notable one. How sensitive your breasts have become to even the scrape of the fabric of your clothing.

And with the rough pads of his fingers working only one, leaving the other to pang in want...

“Obi-Wan,” it’s a prayer, a request. He doesn’t need his hands to cause sensation, and you’d beg him right now if he asked.

He lets up on your neck, only barely, lips moving against the now throbbing skin. “Answer me first.”

Clearing your throat, you give the most cogent response you can muster. “Depends on if you’re definition of savor is synonymous with torture.”

He locks eyes with you then, gently grasping a breast in each of his hands, dragging his thumbs over the nipples as you moan out your assent.

His chuckle is far too self-satisfied to be becoming of a Jedi, but you’re already too far gone to call him on it.

“Is that what you want, little one? For me to torture you so?”

An affirmative whimper is all the response you can give, and Obi-Wan reacts quickly, taking your chin in his fingers and tilting your eyes up to his again.

“Then you will be patient for me. Because I’m always happy to stop, and we can begin again when you decide to adhere.”

Your brain short circuits on the spot, and all energy is redirected much, much lower. His voice, stars above, his voice when it takes a commanding tone.

It’s intimate, it’s personal, and yet this game is almost inappropriately playful for how sincere the moment is.

But such was being loved by Obi-Wan. Full of dissimilar feelings that shouldn’t fit, but moved together in liquid consistency. Like metaphors that didn’t rhyme but still somehow gave their own life-giving rhythm, not dissimilar to the sound of his heartbeat when you lay your head against his chest at night.

Making quick work of the remaining buttons of your shift and underwear, he beckons you to join him as he lies back down, large, warm hands guiding you to turn around so you’re facing away from him.

You know that the purple stickiness of the fruit will smear from his body to yours like this, but you can’t at all bring yourself to care.

You gasp a sigh of relief as one of his hands finds your breast, brushing a knuckle over the too-sensitive nipple.

“Please.” Your whispered beg sounds pathetic, even to your own ears. But as you arch against him in a frenzied attempt at skin contact, Obi-Wan juts his hips forward, grunting into the exposed column of your neck, and stars, yeah, maybe he didn’t find that so pathetic after all.

“What do you want, darling?” His voice doesn’t divulge any desperation, and for only the hundredth time do you envy his immaculate self-control.

“You know, don’t pretend you don’t.” Leaving any doubt to the wind, you push your chest against his barely-touching hand.

“Specificity can be a virtue; that I also know.”

You change techniques, driving your hips back softly into where he’s hard and insistent against your ass, hoping it compels him.

Then you simply… can’t anymore. You’re frozen, unable to move your lower half at all.

Tangling your desires into a knot and tucking it away, you find the mindfulness to reply. “Yeah, so is mercy.”

“Indeed it is. I shall concede when you do.”

You won’t win a battle of the wills with him. You’re not sure anyone could.

So you bring his hand over to your nipple. “Touch me here.”

You feel his smile without even seeing it as he starts tweaking the bud. “Like this?”

It’s so much sensation, all concentrated on such responsive flesh, that you want to beg for him to switch to touching you between your legs.

You haven’t even finished the thought when you feel his unmistakable metaphysical brush against your thigh.

Extending a tendril of your own energy, you invite him in, and he takes it eagerly, ever as eager if not more to be entwined with your mind as with your body.

He hears it all, the besottment, the arousal, the neediness. The panic that he might drag this out longer, that you’ll have to go a single minute longer without...

“It’s alright. It’s alright.” He sends soothing waves through your connection, and he swaps the positioning of his hand with the curl of power. He turns his hand so that the back of it runs through where you’re aching for him, gathering up your slick on the backs of his knuckles. You have to contort your neck to see what follows when he takes the hand back behind you, and your mouth goes dry when he sucks the knuckles in between his lips.

You want to hear, you want to know what he’s…

He’s welcoming you in, navigating you to the brink of his mental barriers, letting you take that final plunge into the unsuppressed fullness of your bond to each other.

Now it’s your turn to hear it: how his carefully constructed unaffected persona is not at all a match for his naked, wanton need for you.

And under that, the foundation on which that desire is built, not the product of it, is his love, his unyielding, unashamed, iridescent love for you.

It’s all you can do but to pour it back, affirming and soothing and calling his love into action with your own.

You both don’t want anything else except the most complete of entanglement, and that’s exactly what he moves to do, situating your bodies, hiking your top leg in the crook of his arm as you feel the initial breach of his body into yours, and all breath leaves your lungs in an exhilarating evacuation.

His audible gasp is an echo of his emotions, how he thinks he’s prepared for this onslaught of feeling, but how you take him off guard, how his equilibrium threatens to teeter every time.

The web of his consciousness enveloping you, it’s easy to pick out a single thought blaring within him: How much he adores the way you fit together. Your back against his chest, how your breast fits in his hand, how the snug joining of where his cock presses into your body sends you into trembles, how comforting your very presence is to his soul when he lets you in like this.

Tears, without warning, seep out of your eyes as he starts to move against you, slow and deep. You close your eyes, willing the powerful emotion away, but glimmers of light flash out behind our closed lids the moment you do, and how the kriff does he stay composed?

Anchor. Anchor against me.

He stills, letting you have a break from the barrage of pleasure blinding you as you search him out, looking for the cords of his intellect that seemingly both steam downward and beam upward, grounding him.

You find it, and you clasp on tightly.

But the moment he starts moving again, you lose sight of it all over again.

Your heightened hormones make your flesh so susceptible, and the tears start to fall again. Obi-Wan rolls your nipple in between his thumb and index, and he’s so good, and you’re so full, and you can hear his pleasure as your own, adding, doubling everything…

Scorching, electrifying heat speeds through your veins, hitting hard and fast, leaving you astounded and even more sensitive than before.

Obi-Wan’s signature spikes as your climax resounds through him, and you can feel the vibration of the wanton noises he’s making right where his beard scratches against your neck.

But he doesn’t allow it to overtake him, letting it run through him without resistance, making himself pliable but unmovable, keeping himself back from the edge.

You still have much to learn.

Because that control? Gives him the ability to not even stop, not even hesitate once, even at both yours and his own ecstasy flowing through him.

When he starts striking his hips hard into yours, the weight of him inside you dragging exactly in the right place, you start to cry in earnest. Obi-Wan stops for a millisecond, concern radiating off of him, even when he can hear how much you want this so clearly, has access to every little passing thought.

“Don’t stop, I’m fine, I pro…” He does just as asked while moving his hand down to your belly again, a soothing touch to his rough thrusts. Your eyes are blurred with wetness, overwhelmed with him.

He’s listening to it all, applying every micro-feeling of feedback into action against your desperate, post-orgasmic skin, hand switching back and forth from your nipples to loosely clutching your neck, Force energy focused on applying pressure to your clit.

“You’re doing so well, so good for me,” comes the wisp of his sultry tone, lips pressed against your ear.

Since you aren’t even thinking about changing position, you know it’s his own preference that has him withdrawing, guiding you onto your back.

There’s no inhibition this way, not the way there is when you’re on your side, no separation from your bodies being flush when he pushes into you again. You have to anchor in him, both mentally and with your fingernails clawing at his shoulder blades as your body starts into tremors.

He’s keeping the weight of his chest off of you, even though your belly is still barely swollen into distinguishable roundedness, and as much as you miss the contact, you can look into his eyes like this, can see the unfiltered attachment and all the weight of all the emotion he wills his body to not cave under.

But then the tremoring transforms into series of contractions throughout your body, centering through your slick core, and you thrash your head to the side catching a glimpse of Obi-Wan’s fingers clenching into white knuckles, grasping into the exposed sand from the blanket being bunched up.

He projects his thoughts across the tether to you, how thoroughly impacted by the very fact you’re carrying his child, how affected he is by every little thing about you, honored that he’s allowed to touch you like this.

You roll your hips back up into his, and that’s what it takes. His stuttering body is the lightning, and the searing, molten pleasure across your connection is the thunderous repercussion.

It completely overthrows you, and your body bows against him as his high instantly cues yours again.

You can feel him throb inside you at the very moment you do, his turn to experience the secondary sensory white-out of your mate’s climax through the Force, his shuddering shout meeting your breathy whines in the close distance between your mouths.

And he does kiss you then, soundly but with the haze of afterglow slowing it.

“Have you any idea how bewitching you are to me?” He breathes it out, and despite all the ways you’d normally scoff at such words, his eyes tell the story, and you listen to it’s truth.

His eyes hold that constant infiltrating study of you, the one that could be unnerving if his mind, still tethered to yours didn’t hold such amor, heart bleed such fondness that settles in the creases around his eyes.

How interesting it is watching someone as knowledgeable as him having such an inquisitive outlook on life, and being so frequently the object of those investigations.

Did the galaxy know her debt to him? Did she know the sum owed to inflicting the worst of life’s pains on someone who refused to let it build anything except an even gentler man of himself? When does she plan on repaying him? What does she offer in exchange for her cruelty of the hand she’s dealt Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Then the whisper comes, soft but crisp, from somewhere in the threads of existence around you, “Can’t you see? It’s you, child.”

You could argue it. You could scream how it’s not enough, how you’re not enough, how he deserves so much more from some dark insecure place inside you. Or how love shouldn’t be treated as currency in exchange for pain, how the galaxy could still have your fists if that was how it tallied.

But the finality of it settles in your soul, more impressionistic than in solid wording: there is no easy conclusion that ties the suffering of life into purpose, no experience that erases or mends its pain. But love. Love makes the complicated endeavor of trying to find purpose in the madness worthwhile.

Obi-Wan’s hum of agreement resounds in your ears and through to your head. His Force signature feels so familiar, so at home within yours and yours within his, that you’d briefly forgotten he could still hear you.

With all the strength still left in quaking limbs, you wrap your arms around him, and he melts into it.

The compassion of his soul hardly matches his war-ravaged skin, his guilt-ridden memories. Every good thing here came to be with a war waged, refined and not burnt away in fire at his sheer tenacity.

It’s a growing thing, blooming in the desert. The beliefs in both of you. Your love for each other. Your own trust in the Force.

Healing is no short journey, but her two sojourners here are determined.

And if that tender hope can blossom here?

Then maybe, just maybe: Tatooine is exactly the place for a baby after all.

*********

In the valley beyond the hut, a boy jets quickly away in some mechanical contraption he recently motorized, a girl in a similar vehicularized compilation of junk not far behind.

On the cliff’s edge stands Obi-Wan, eyes scanning the landscape intermittently for any sign of threat between longer affectionate looks at the children before him.

He turns, feeling your approach in his keen awareness as you set a hand on his shoulder from behind. His temples are now even thicker with sun-bleached silver, and his eyes wield the lines of laughter around them.

And you? You’re as roped in by his gravitational pull as you’ve always been.

He puts a hand over yours, clasping it to bring you in front of him, where he can still watch the children and encase you in his arms at the same time.

“Slow down, Luke! You’re going too fast!” comes the distressed cry of your daughter, Ahlina, drawing your attention away from admiring Obi-Wan and back to the valley. Her vowels curl in the same way her father’s does, but her more casual phrasing was certainly thanks to you. Luke shouts back at her, “Come on, keep up!” while he races on ahead.

Obi-Wan smiles, seemingly amused at a secret joke.

“They are much too young for this nonsense still,” he speaks, muffled slightly as he hides his lips in your hair.

“Probably,” you reply with an airy laugh.

Not long after, the engine on Luke’s small contraption gives out, jutting him off and tumbling forward into the sand.

“I told you!” Ahlina yells, her own machine coming to a halt not far away from Luke.

When they make it back up the cliff, Obi-Wan couches and opens his arms, and they both come running with smiles. They’re still young enough to be unshy about affection, and Obi-Wan knows to soak it up, closing his eyes in relishment.

Luke is the first to wiggle down, waving before running over to hug your leg, which you happily return, brushing some of the blonde mop of hair from his forehead. You adored the nights that the Lars let him sleep over.

Although the nights that Ahlina slept over at theirs certainly had their allure too.

“Can we have a snack, Daddy?” Ahlina asks, still happy to be hoisted up on one of his arms.

“Hm. Perhaps I can make some of those ahrisa sweet breads again?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Can Mommy make them?”

“Why not mine?”

“Because you always burn them.”

He bops a finger lightly on her nose with a smile. “Cheeky.”

She goes to bop him on his nose in return, but he catches the finger, holding it.

“Give it back!” she screeches through a giggle.

“No, no. I think I’ll keep it now.”

The suns are dipping low as you retreat into the hut, the two children running ahead, racing to gather the ingredients to help you bake the bread. Luke especially was an enthusiastic sous-chef.

You step to follow them, but Obi-Wan grasps your hand. You turn back to him, and he barely gives you a second before he joins his mouth to yours. Sliding a hand into the auburn beard, you open your mouth to him, letting his familiar taste permeate your senses.

He reluctantly breaks after a long moment, and you take his hand in yours. When you turn back to the horizon, the suns are dipping, blanketing the landscape in the most celestial light of the day.

The planet’s eyes aren’t harsh in the way you used to see them. They’re still intense, and frequently unforgiving.

Perhaps they never changed. Maybe only you did.

But as they sink now, you give a silent, partial farewell, knowing they’ll greet you again in the morning.

Because if Dark’s patience is infinite?

So is the promise of the return of the Light.

Tagging upon request: @million-dollar-legs

#obi-wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan x you #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi wan smut #obi-wan smut #obi-wan #obi-wan x oc

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flowerflamestars · 4 years

Text

Nesta Under the Mountain: acowar remix

The first thing Nesta hears when she wakes up, is Rhysand.

Who is right by her bedside, waiting, apparently for this exact moment of her eyes opening and coherency on her face to say, with full High Lord gravitas: we would have gone with you.

Cassian, who has given up any pretense, and is literally on the floor between Rhysand’s armchair and Nesta’s bed, kicks him.

They didn’t know what happened to her- couldn’t find any wounds, any marks at all, but Nesta wouldn’t wake up. It’s Amren who insists, who sits perfectly still by her side for an hour and says- she did something. She did something like what I did.

Lucien, poisoned with faebane and stabbed in the heart, was lucky to be alive, in and out of consciousness. He’d been awake in the days that followed for just ten minutes. During which he used the hand Azriel was persistently holding to leverage himself out of bed, fallen, been caught by Azriel, and somehow dragged himself to Nesta’s side before passing out, stitches popped and bleeding.

There’s two beds in the room now.

Cassian doesn’t have the room to process- but he’s noticed, how he’s noticed- that Azriel has spent these days more than not like he is now: Lucien’s hand in both of his.

A frozen elegy, Lucien’s scarred knuckles, pressed to his mouth.

Nesta’s awake, and Azriel hasn’t dropped Luciens hand.

Listen, Cassian hasn’t slept in days. He thought, truly, Nesta was never waking up. That he was going to sit here and watch her slowly die. He’s absolutely not in his right mind. So he thinks: Oh. oh.

All three of them.

It’s not unheard of. And Azriel is, of course, one of the absolute best males that Cassian knows. Honorable. Strong. Beautiful. Of course, they’ve worked this out- Nesta is the most unflinching, brutally honest person of all of them. Lucien she can be loud with- Azriel she can be quiet with- enough love to burn the world, why should she give it to just one person?

(a smaller, quieter, sadder part of him that isn’t zipping through thoughts at the speed of light can admit- if it was going to be an Illyrian, if that was even an option- why couldn’t it be him?

...of course, it would be handsome Azriel over Cassian)

It’s too easy to picture- dark Azriel, vibrant Lucien, moon glow on the blackest night Nesta.

But none of that matters. Because Nesta is sitting up, and glaring at Rhys and looking like a person again. Looking down and finding Cassian, there on the floor, with a tiny, savage smile. A hesitation- a second, that goes on and on, Nesta’s lovely mouth perked up, her eyes steady on his.

Alive, alive, alive. Cassians imagines- thinks he’s only imagining- that he can feel the steady beat of her heart alongside his.

But then of course eventually Nesta twists to sit up properly, already braiding away the rumpled cascade of her hair. (Cassian’s hands ache to help). Turning, to look at Lucien, grey-tinged and too still in bed.

Azriel answered without needing to be asked, looking at Nesta with weary eyes, Lucien’s limp hand pressed to his cheek. (Cassian’s heart is on fire). Explains that the poison is cleansed and now it will only take time, that Lucien had demanded to see her. The first expression on Azriel’s face in four days straight: a quirk of his full mouth, the ghost of a fond smile, telling Nesta Lucien tore his stitches to get to her.

(Cassian feels a little sick)

Stupid asshole, Nesta will grumble right back, but in that tone that says I love you.

But Nesta will turn away, straight to Cassian, to ask: My sisters?

(Cassian is Not Okay. Cassian’s self-esteem issues are literally going to cockblock him and despite not leaving in days for more than a few moments, Cassian is suddenly desperate to get out of this room. The city. His own skin)

Cassian can recognize trust when he sees it. Swallows. Tells her they’ve been here too, Morrigan just dragged them away to eat. They’re downstairs- he can get them- he can-

The youngest Archeron crashes through the door with Nesta’s own cataclysmic sense of timing, and throws herself at her sister. Elain, a step behind, walks around Cassian to curl up on Nesta’s other side, skirts tucked carefully around her.

They want to know what happened- and Rhysand, with his usual grace, choses this moment to interject that he would like to too.

(The Cauldron, downstairs, cannot be moved. Reacts to nothing, unaffected by physical strength or magical inquiry. It is, in the end, creepy as fuck. The sisters like it.)

(Not to mention that Nesta- who has always had presence, even as a mortal- whose mean laugh and beautiful face and tendency to yell at him is absolutely some kind of catnip to Rhysie- Nesta now feels like danger. Not the kind you only have to look hard at her to see, that strength that is who she is. Like a High Lord. Something old. Something powerful.)

So Nesta tells them. The King, the Castle of Bone, the Cauldron, who would be a prisoner no longer. Of the reckless, insane thing she’d done when it seemed like they were doomed- of what the Cauldron gave.

(Cassian is glad he didn’t leave. Cassian might never leave her side again, no matter how much it will hurt. Nesta drowned herself in eternity on purpose.)

She doesn’t allow them to congratulate, to question- though Feyre does joke about Nesta seizing the crown.

Nesta looks past them all, to Rhysand. Tells him what she’d told Cassian, the words he’d been holding behind his teeth like succor: She wasn’t the only sister. Rhysand.

Linnea, Amarantha, Clythia.

Nesta Archeron had been dragged over the Wall to protect her sisters- been transformed against her will into a monster and chosen that life, in the end, to stop war from marching to mortal lands to them.

Amarantha was a monster. Clythia a mistake. Linnea, long locked away, the discarded eldest, would come to sow vengeance against Prythian’s Vengeance. Against Nesta Archeron and whole continent that had borne and made her.

The war was still coming.

The medical team arrives to do one more round of treatment for Lucien. Nesta, uninterested now that she can resist in being poked and prodded ever, stumbles off to her actual bedroom, deathgrip on Cassian’s arm she will absolutely not admit is keeping her upright.

She puts herself together. Bathes. Finds clothes. Looks, this time, in the mirror. She looks the same- her face had never changed that much. The subtle glow of immortality, the stupid knifeblade ears. But it’s still her face: her mother’s lathe cheekbones, her father’s plush, lying mouth.

Nesta is a monster, but Nesta is Nesta.

She marches downstairs, and shuts herself in the study with Rhys. Crossed her arms. Stands there, spine straight, feet spread, like she’s going to battle.

Clenches her tattooed hand so hard it hurts.

She tells him, I want to make a deal. You wanted me in your Court, to fight in the war for the Night. I’ll swear fealty. I’ll be your fucking weapon- just me, not Lucien- if you promise that no matter what happens, no matter who comes, you protect my sisters. To the last fucking breath, Rhysand.

Rhys stands up. Brushes a hand over his face like he’s thinking and abruptly, laughs.

Nes, he’ll drawl to the feverpitch of her temper that he definitely has an unhealthy fondness of. You don’t owe me shit. You freed Prythian. You killed Hybern. You tamed the Cauldron.

Is Velaris suddenly not your home? It’s not a trap. Archeron, you’re one of us, whether you wanted it or not. That means they are too.

Nesta: I am a private contractor.

Rhys: You’re so involved you’re basically my Third alongside Mor. We would have gone with you.

And that, in the end, is what does it. Rhys is such a goddamn liar- but that doesn’t mean Nesta hasn’t learned when he’s telling the truth. And he is now.

They would have gone with her- to kill a King. To save her sisters. To enact bloody, reckless violence.

Nesta sits down, steals his teacup, and says: Fine.

The problem is clear at once: Rhysand thought Linnea was dead. Everyone thought Linnea was dead. Information from when she did live is unclear at best- Amarantha’s half-sister, where Clythia and her had been born to the same unfortunate mother.

Half-mad, denied acknowledgment from her father. Clythia and Amarantha were generals, woman who dealt in violence. Linnea, when she’d lived- when she’d been known- was an alchemist.

What the hell is alchemy? Magic that isn’t ours, Rhysand says darkly. Magic that is unnatural, not quite real. Not the power inside you- the power you can steal from the world.

It usually doesn’t work. It usually kills the fae involved eventually.

They need more information- they need Azriel, and no one is about to suggest he move a muscle until Lucien wakes back up.

There’s a family dinner, eaten sprawled around the sickroom. Elain, Nesta learns, has made quick work of befriending Morrigan. Feyre’s recklessness- the mirror of Nesta’s- has ensured, with fearless wonder, that she’s absolutely comfortable here.

(This Rhysand, who knew and was in awe of Nesta first, might like Feyre...but Nesta is his contemporary. The idea that her baby, mortal, youngest sister might also be doesn’t occur to him. Not yet, anyway. There being three Archeron’s at all remains overwhelming.)

Cassian offers to fly Elain and Feyre back to the House.

It’s Feyre, with the sort of straight forward confusion that can’t be feigned, who says, after Cassian has set them down and is walking into the warm halls with them: Aren’t you going back? Oh, is Nesta coming here?

Cassian’s heart: ground zero. Cassian’s brain: just far enough from the explosion to be burning, burning, burning.

Elain, who is a lot more like Nesta now that she isn’t frozen in worry, frowning just a little. Not warning- something worse, abject disappointment: We can get settled on our own. Nesta told me she’s sleeping at the townhouse tonight, in case Lucien wakes.

Feyre, yawning: Oh right, bye Cassian.

And then Cassian is left alone, the doors shut.

Let us return to Nesta: feet propped up on the blankets of Luciens bed, quietly drinking whiskey. Watching, with a pang in her chest she’ll ignore and ignore and ignore, while Azriel- now that it’s just them, Nesta, who Lucien had explained to Azriel like this: I’d die for her. She’s my...Cassian. I’m always going to choose her, and if we do this you can’t hate that. Nesta, who is family- is gently braiding the riot of bloodred hair off Lucien’s face.

She handed over the half-full glass when he was done, and Azriel tossed the whole thing back. Said, eventually, as they sat there watching Lucien breathe together: that’s the first time Cassian has left.

Nesta, leaning even further back in the chair: Oh?

Azriel, with humor, steady in his deep voice: Rhysand had to make him let go so the healers could check you. He’s been in this room for a week.

Nesta, who’s still looking at the braids. Nesta, who’d woke and known that Cassian would have made sure her sisters were okay: Will he ever say anything?

Az: Does he need to?

Nesta, with a scoff: For me, no. For himself, yes. And then, softer. Thank you. For taking care of him.

They both know she isn’t talking about Cassian.

Azriel will just nod. Say, like it’s nothing, the bare truth: He’s all the light, in the entire world.

Nesta hears again Cassian, tearing through words like they hurt to say: you’re the whole world.

Nesta, aloud: And much too stubborn to die.

This, unfortunately, the last two sentences, are all Cassian hears, frozen outside the door.

He walks away.

The next day, Lucien awake, Rhysand will call them all together and divide up what must be done. Lucien and Az: information. Morrigan: the darkbringers. Cassian and Nesta: the Legions.

It’s time for Nesta Archeron to go to Ilyria.

@more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @rhaenystargaryn @morrkrii @just-a-starcrossed-writer @clolikescloquetas @did-you-miss-me221 @caotica-e-quieta

#once again split this up for some semblance of brevity #poor baby self-worth issues Cassian #acting like an adorable tool #Rhys! and Nesta almost friends #very almost #it was always a story about the love between sisters #and it will be #to the bitter #bitter end

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jasmehraj · 4 years

Text

Wedding au

A timinette.

This was a request from Huntressofartemis10. I hope you like it. I am thinking of making a part 2 of this story.

________________________________________________________________________________

Marinette was very excited. Today was the day, she will be finally wed. The day her dreams come true. The day when she will be Mrs. Agreste and she will have three kids and hamsters and and and....

"Girl I can hear you overthinking." Alya her best friend. I was so afraid I am going to lose my friends but she didn't. Adrien managed to convince Lila to talk with me and I admitted my defeat. She got everyone back. All her friends were back. Tikki wasn't very happy with it.

Me and Adrien grew close. He confessed his love for me on our 10th date. Kagami left the country but they were still friends. She was even coming to their wedding. When I told her about the wedding yesterday her eyes went wide, maybe Adrien forgot to tell her? and she hesitantly tried to tell me something... She said that she is going to be here tomorrow and then she hung up.

Lila, well Lila didn't even try to ruin it!! She was just smiling and said,"Congratulations."

I am also going to reveal my identity as MDC. Hawkmoth is still a threat so, the wedding is going to be in New York but I am not afraid because I have my friends to back me up.

Chloe talks to me every once a week. We are friends, she shows me the side she never showed anyone else. She always gets quiet when I bring up Adrien. She also tried to tell me something but I hung up because Adrien was calling me.

Now sitting in a flight to New York, her phone tinged, it was a message from Tim. She met him this month. He was a coffee addict just like her and sleep deprived. She loves hanging out with him. They both solve puzzles, mind-games, riddles and share coffee recipes. She doesn't know what relation she has with him but only thing she knows is that he understands her like no one else does. When she told him about the wedding he looked so lost. He excused himself quickly.

Luka just smiled a sad smile and congratulated her.

She was now sitting on a plane going to New York. She wanted to make her Wedding dress but Gabriel told her that she is going to be the face of Gabriel's brand after him and Adrien. So, she HAS to wear a Gabriel original. It was not what she wanted but she couldn't question. Adrien just gave her a small apologetic smile. She understood and obeyed that is what she is supposed to do. She looked at her phone. There were multiple messages from Tim and others but she didn't get time to read them because the voice of Pilot rang through the speakers.

The plane landed and she went to her room and started getting ready. It was time for her wedding. She sat in the limo and they made their way towards the hotel. There were many people there. Her father looked very sad. I took his arm and he led me inside. When I entered, Adrien wasn't there. Where is he? She looked everywhere. She can't see her friends either. Where are they? Many cameras were there. She was just standing there confusion clear on her face. Where are they?

Tim came in looking like he just came running from somewhere,"Marinette, don't hmphhh-" He was cut off when three guards came and held him one covering his mouth.

"Stop that I invited him."She dropped the bouquet. She was going to him but was stopped by a hand. He turned to look at Natalie,"Mr. Agreste has forbidden him to come here."

"He's my friend. Release him this instant."

"No, Marinette. Take him away." Tim was so done he just knocked them out. They were just three men he had taken care of bigger villains,"Marinette. Don't Marry Him."

"Why Tim?"

"Because-"

He was again cut off this time by Adrien,"Princess come here let's start the ceremony."

"No Marinette he is cheating on you." Everyone's head whipped towards Adrien.

"Marinette, princess I am not cheating on you. Why would I even do that? I love you."

The door flew open three figures came flying all in a purple attire.

"Kagami, Luka, Chloe."Marinette was panicking today was supposed to be perfect. What is the meaning of this?

"We are the truth. We take care everyone who lied and tried to hurt our friend."They went towards Adrien and surrounded him. Adrien suddenly started blurting out,"I don't love you. I just used you as a distraction when Kagami left me. You were never supposed to be successful. I wanted to ruin you. You will marry me ignoring everything because you are so deep in the fantasy world that you couldn't see me sneaking out at night, cheating on you everyday, you even ignored the fact that I call you princess which Chat Noir called you. I am Chat Noir. After we get wed, father will make you sign a contract that will make the brand MDC, every single penny his, mine. You will never get out of the house. You will be our prisoner. You will be a puppet who will be controlled and I will finally have my revenge when I'll see you cry." He gasped for air and then continued. "Kagami broke up with me because you pointed out Lila was a liar and that I knew she was, that I told you to take the high road. She broke up with me. Chloe stopped talking to me and that Luka, I wanted to get rid of him but he became famous, it became hard, sometimes I just wanted to cataclysm him. I never told them that I was dating you and I stopped you from mentioning that either. When you told them about the wedding they came flying to save you because they knew what I do every night.They told this scum-TIM too. I kicked them out but this scum somehow beated the security and came in here."

Marinette didn't know when she started walking, when she reached him. But when she did, she slapped him hard and took off his ring,"What-" He was cut off by another slap and another and another until he was unconscious. Then she ran away. The akuma following her. Tim ran to catch up to her and carried her bridal style. "Tim I-" Tim cut her off by putting a finger on her lips.

They somehow lost the akuma. He put her down. She couldn't cry now. No. She has a job to do.

She held out her hand to Tim," Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne. I am giving you the miraculous of Black Cat. Will you agree to fight alongside me and have my back to retrieve the miraculous from the hands of Hawkmoth? Do you agree?"

"Yes I do." He had a determined look on his face.

He put the ring on his finger. Plagg appeared and as soon as he did he was in her face,"Bug Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth. He did all of this so he can akumatize you to achieve his goal. It was his plan from the start."

Marinette turned to Tim,"To transform say, Plagg Claws out. To detransform say, Plagg Claws in."

He nodded,"Plagg claws out." He was now dressed in a cat themed suit but with a cape and a utility belt along with the baton.

She said,"Tikki spots on."Her dress changed. She was now wearing a much mature outfit with a full face mask and armored boots. She had multiple yoyos on her hips. She also had a dagger almost which was very hard to see near her yoyos."Let's go."

Tim followed her. They both reached near the akuma. It was still searching for Marinette and Tim.

"I think the akuma is in the stack of photos they came with as an evidence." She nodded and they get back to work. Ladybug called her lucky charm, It was a statue that looked like her but curled up. She immediately got the idea. She put her in an alleyway and told her plan to Tim. They called the akuma to follow them and it did follow them. They reached the alleyway and swung away but the akuma got distracted by the lucky charm. She tied them up mid-air using her yoyos. Tim cataclysmed the pockets of all three of them and a black butterfly fluttered out. She purified it and called her miraculous ladybug and everything was back to normal.

She looked at Tim to see he was searching for something in the baton. His ears twitched and he threw his head over her head calling cataclysm,"Be careful Ladybug, Hawkmoth is sending Akumas for you." She shut all the emotions she was feeling and turned to Tim,"What are you doing?"

"I am a detective, a hacker and an inventor. I am tracking Hawkmoth Aka Gabriel. AHA."

"You found him?" She looked at him.

"He detransformed and is at the wedding avenue. It is all over the news."

"Let's go."

They went through the front door. Gabriel was speaking to the reporters,"Don't listen to anything he said. It was under the akuma's influence-"

"Gabriel" Ladybug's voice was firm but strong that made every single person quiet down. Her parents came running to her,"Is our baby alright?"

"Yes, we have taken her to a much safer place." They looked loads relieved but still tense.

"Gabriel." She spoke again.

"Yes." She came near him.

"Why did the akuma attack your son?"She asked. All the while Tim stealthily reached behind him and pulled some tape from his utility belt. As he was talking to Ladybug he covered his mouth with tape and grabbed his arms. Many people came forward including the police.

"Back off." Ladybug showed the dagger threateningly. They all seemed smart enough. She ripped his tie off and snatched the miraculous. In her peripheral she saw Natalie trying to escape but she threw two yoyos one rolled around Natalie and the other was wrapped painfully on her open mouth drawing blood and stopping her mid sentence (Dussu-). She walked to her, the crowd parted for her. She pulled a chunk of her dress off. She was wearing the peacock miraculous. She ripped it off to and both were secured in her yoyo. They threw them with each other.

"Gabriel Agreste and Natalie Scouncer. I ,ladybug the guardian of the miraculous curse you for eternity for misusing the miraculous of butterfly and peacock miraculous and giving pain to them. Thus you will feel all the pain you ever gave to anyone, you will feel all the pain you've given to Paris and the miraculous together and you will never be able to wield the miraculous again. Citizens of Paris the reign of hawkmoth has thus ended."

Then she turned to the police,"Arrest them they are the terrorists who terrorized Paris for 6 years. You must have got the idea. You can search for Parisian news if you want to know what I am talking about." The police officer nodded. They cuffed both of them who were glowing and growling in pain.

"Miss. Dupain Cheng will reach the hotel along with her friends in an hour." The Dupain Chengs nodded.

"BUG out." "GOODBYE."

They both landed in an alleyway and detransformed. She immediately cried on Tim's shoulder. Tim doing the same as they hugged each other and Tikki and Plagg nudging their cheeks with sad faces.

This wedding was not what her dream was like. Even Adrien was not how her dream Adrien was like.

After an hour they both somehow reached the hotel. Their friends tackled them in a hug.

"I have to change this. I can't bear to wear this." Said Marinette. Everyone nodded.

They all changed their clothes and cried hugging each other and fell asleep. At least they were in this together.

________________________________________________________________________________

Tim is from another universe. He has yet to find a way back. Suggest me should I make a part or not?

Love,

Jasmehraj.

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miraculous786 · 4 years

Text

The Protector’s Defeat

Masterlist

Arctic Fox Art by @i-will-be-your-ace

"I highly doubt that a present will be of use to you in this situation, Angel."

Ladybug's eyes widened, as she scanned over the object in her grasp. It appeared to be something hard yet light encased in a spotted wrapping paper.

"I'll make do with it," she muttered beneath her breath, before beginning to flicker her gaze about her surroundings. "You two distract him - I'll find a way to use this."

Arctic Fox and Chat Noir nodded in unison. They tilted their heads up to where Protector was perched on a beam above, and leaped up like acrobats onto the same level.

Whilst the three males exchanged heated kicks and blows, below, Marinette felt her features twist into a grimace as she furrowed her brow. The search of any ideas ended up fruitless, and so she finally decided to tear off the material that hid the cuboid-shaped item beneath it.

Felix noticed the action out of the corner of his vision, causing his ivory ears - lined with aqua fur within - to twitch atop his head in Ladybug's direction from curiosity. That allowed Damian the perfect chance to land a swift punch that blew him down to where said girl was.

"Oh gosh, are you okay?"

"Yes," Arctic Fox groaned, taking the hand she held out. "What's the Lucky Charm?"

"A book by the looks of it," Marinette responded, as she shifted it in her hands. "'Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief'?"

The blond appeared to raise a brow. "That sounds familiar."

"It is," Ladybug breathed, looking down at the ground in thought, hand poised at her chin. That was when she suddenly clicked her fingers while exclaiming, "That's it!"

She glanced up at his tall figure with a determined expression. "Remember that time at the bakery when you, me and Dami were discussing reading preferences? This was one of the books I brought up and explained about to you guys!"

Felix let his mind wander, and soon found himself reminiscing of the very scene she had described.

"How does that relate to saving our Star?" he queried.

The heroine smirked. "We'll need your Mirage - get it ready. The timing has to be perfect."

Just as Arctic Fox was about to open his mouth to ask another question, there was a yelp from above, followed by Chat Noir being slammed into the metal floor beneath them. Protector landed too not a moment later.

In the akuma's grasp was a familiar grey baton, that he split into two by pressing a green paw button on the weapon. Then, he flung them at the trio, making them dodge by jumping in different directions.

The staff's halves acted like boomerangs, and returned to Damian. He twirled them around skillfully, before standing stiff in front of the heroes.

"Thanks for the help, Lovebirds," Adrien commented after getting up, rolling his forest green eyes in a playful manner.

Damian narrowed his emerald ones at the tease.

With a growl in his throat, Protector charged at the boys, utilising his gun and Chat's baton as tools to aid him in the fight. Blurs of black, white and purple flashed as they battled.

Marinette considered Damian's dark outfit for a second time, taking in what he adorned. A utility belt. A cape. A mask.

She suddenly did a double-take, and stared at his belt. Through the grunts she could hear and moves she could see, a bundle of circular devices attached to his hip caught her attention.

"That's it..." Ladybug realised with a soft gasp. Her gaze became resolute. "I have a plan," she whispered beneath her breath, whilst pulling out her yo-yo to twirl as a shield.

Her partners heard her words with their pinned ears, prompting them to make split-second eye contact with one another. With a nod, she sprung into the fray, causing Protector to freeze as her bluebell orbs stared into his for a moment.

Chat Noir used the distraction to his advantage. He snatched the staff from Damian's grip with surprising strength, then extended it to send the villain hurtling off of the Eiffel Tower.

During the time that the akuma shot out a grapple to save his fall, Marinette had already sprinted to her friends, with the command of, "Mirage, my Moon. It's time to set this plan into action."

The model there raised a brow. "What's the plan?" he questioned with a curious tilt of the head.

"I'll explain soon, Kitty. Use you Mirage, Felix, quick."

Arctic Fox shook his head in affirmation. One of his gloved hands, that left the tips of his fingers out into the open, spun around an alto flute by the handle, before bringing it up to thin lips.

A short and hush tone played from the instrument, as a sphere of white glowed at the tip of it. "What should I create?" he quizzed, holding the silver stick out and ready.

At the same time as the discussion between the teens, a form stalked out of the shadows on a level further below. They grunted, taking out their firearm and grappling hook.

They shot it upwards. The end latched onto a metal structure. Protector was pulled high until he almost reached the top of the monument.

He scanned about, holding his gun out offensively. His boots took slow steps backward, but he abruptly paused and took another glance around.

There.

Damian snapped his head to where a blur of white passed, to be met with the sight of a chalky mist eating up the corners of where he was. It swirled in all directions, blocking his vision to anything a certain distance away.

He let out a huff. With a simple thought, he switched the mode on his weapon, and shot it at the floor. The purple light that came out made a hole beneath him, which he jumped through to land lower.

"I know you're here, Angel," Protector spoke, his mouth twitching upwards. "I promise that nothing bad will happen to you or our Moon. I just need to know where he is so that the liar and her lackey can be dealt with."

The villain carried on his hunt for the spotted heroine for around half a minute more. At least, until he made out faint footsteps nearby.

There was a moment of silence as he held his firearm to whoever was close.

"My Moon," Damian acknowledged, with his hand slowly returning to his side. "You're here."

Felix nodded, though didn't make any move to come closer. Protector did so willingly for him.

"Now, we can get on with exposing that wretch," he hissed, and narrowed his focus in concentration. The shrill scream in the distance made a grin settle across his features. "Where is our Angel?"

The blond narrowed his eyes. "You won't be getting to her."

"Oh, but I will. After all, it's only a matter of time until I can complete my job - my mission - and I always complete them in the end."

With a smirk, the akuma brought out an assortment of blades, and readied them to throw. When he did so, he didn't expect Felix to disappear into a blue dust when making contact with the metal articles. Rather, he expected the boy to be pinned to the beam behind where he had been.

A stick that appeared to have an end in the shape of a hook slid under his feet, knocking him to the ground with a grunt. He growled, and arched his back with his arms behind his head. Then, he used the momentum to spring onto his feet again.

Damian didn't feel the pull at his hip. He only heard the telltale zipping of Ladybug's yo-yo as it was sent back to her by the string with his utility belt.

"Chat Noir!"

Marinette launched the belt at said person, and he yelled, "Cataclysm!" right before he caught it. Ash soon filled his clawed hand.

Protector shouted out an angered, "No!" as he took out his gun in a swift movement, holding up in Adrien's direction. The beam that shot out turned him into an green orb that was tinged yellow.

The villain didn't have time to revel in his victory, since an alto flute hit his side with the blunt end. He grunted in frustration, and aimed the firearm in his hand again to fire at Arctic Fox.

However, Felix hooked the weapon with the other side of his instrument, and swung it like a bat to send the akumatized object straight to Marinette.

She grabbed it with a throw of her yo-yo and brought it careening to the ground. Cracks marred the surface of it, and a purple butterfly flew out from one of them.

Damian moved to retrieve the akuma, yet the fox hero there halted the attempt by hurling an all too familiar device at his back, that was circular. It beeped red, before exploding into ropes that knocked him to the ground - immobilized.

"Bye-bye little butterfly," Ladybug breathed, pressing the surface of her yo-yo. The insect that fluttered out soon disappeared into the distance, whilst the teenagers present all watched.

She walked a few metres to the side, and picked up a bundle of spotted wrapping paper. Then, she threw it up with a cry of, "Miraculous Ladybug!"

Chat Noir's soul morphed into his body with a wash of red-and-black magic. The tilted and burnt sections of the Eiffel Tower returned to their previous state. An Italian far below and Hawk Moth far away let out deep breaths when the pain residing in their very skulls was removed.

Violet bubbles cleansed Protector, leaving behind Damian kneeling on the ground with a raised brow. He carefully got up, schooling his expression without taking the hand that Arctic Fox held out.

"Are you okay?" Felix asked in an even tone. He fought off the urge to envelop the other in an embrace.

"Yes. What am I doing at the top of the Eiffel Tower?"

"You were akumatized," Chat Noir replied, strolling to them with his staff laying on his shoulders. "Don't worry. You didn't do anything bad."

Felix turned to Adrien, and deadpanned, "He caused Lila Rossi immense pain and more than likely triggered emotional trauma."

"Nah, I think that last part is a bit of a stretch," he shrugged off. "Besides, she deserved it."

"Good to know we share the same viewpoint," Damian commented with gritted teeth. "That liar deserves whatever she got."

"See - he agrees!"

Arctic Fox subtly rolled his eyes. He tilted his head to the side, noticing Marinette crouched down yet slightly facing away with something in her hands.

"Ladybug?" he called, catching the attention of the other boys there. He bent down to her level, and watched as she lifted up what looked to be a gun with a pale face.

"D-Dami? Is, is this what I think it is?"

He opened his mouth a few times to answer, though nothing came out. That left a stunned silence, until a beeping emanated from one of them.

Chat Noir glanced down at his ring in worry, before taking in the helicopters recording high above. He said gravely, "I think that we should get out of here first."

Felix nodded. Marinette just stayed frozen.

The blond decided to scoop her up into his arms whilst Adrien took Damian, despite the fact that he glared in warning not to.

"To the bakery."

With that destination in mind, they leaped off of the monument with their respective weapons, leaving the reporters around recording with their phones held up.

None noticed the blue-eyed vigilantes following in the shadows.

~*~*~

Would’ve updated sooner but yesterday we had a four-way WhatsApp call for a while with loads my cousins. There was so much shouting and it was honestly hilarious.

@thestressmademedoit @moonystars14 @northernbluetongue @luciferge @ranger-gothamite @toodaloo-kangaroo @freshbark @drama-queen-supreme @gwennex @captainmac6 @virgil-is-a-cutie @aurordraws @maribat-is-lifeblood @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @hauntedwintersweets @emo-elaine13 @bleeding-heart-romantic @write-for-your-life2 @palvine-of-the-alvins @schrodingers25 @mariae2900 @vivilakitty @thyladyanput @2sunchild2 @kittyanonymity @bee-wrecker @soupfilledboots @queenmj10 @i-will-be-your-ace @darkthunder1589

#daminette #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #felinette #damifelinette #fox!felix #damikuma #maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #ml x dc

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currentfandomkick · 3 years

Text

Marinette did not sign up for this part 10: Mari plots plotting

So long time no post. I live. Ish. Also finally figured out readmore on mobile, so yay. Will take forever to edit posts now though. Explanation at the bottom First part here previous part here. Ao3 here

Marinette wanted to go on record that Mandeliev did not, in fact, give her an extra day or so to study for the test. Why? Instead, she was told she may do a paper on the application of physics in gymnastics and principles of evasion in urban areas and how to combine the two to maximize one’s ability to run away from akumas and other dangers.

Or as Nino put it: “I am tormenting you into running better, the eight page essay.”

Alya dubbed it the “Run Better Paper.”

Aurore said it should include more formulas when Marinette showed her the draft. (as Adrien would complain about lack of theories and how she should have used this advanced formula she’d never heard of instead and then Marinette would have to forcibly stop him from taking over her paper. Again.)

Kim had taken to keeping her in his hoodie, escorting her to the bakery and didn’t leave her alone until Adrien said it was his “Marinette Anxiety Watch” shift.

Which she would like to go on record, is just plain mean to say. She has Liar 100% under control when world ending things and metaphorical bomb drops aren’t happening to her constantly.

—-

Bruce tried to contact Diana and Arthur again. Hal was off world, and therefore useless.

Why?

As his missing son hadn’t contacted them yet. Was still in the Miraculous team’s custody. And he saw the footage of Robin—Damian—being hunted by a lving shadow, an element casting swordswoman, and a strategist that seemed to know exactly what to do to keep Robin cornered in battle. The living shadows—Chat Noir—tried to kill his son with Cataclysm.

That was when they were in public, and had Hal watching over them.

He didn’t want to think about what the kids might do unsupervised to someone that tried to kill Ladybug, openly stalked her civilian self, and apparently tried stalk her again, in broad daylight. And possibly may have revealed her secret identity…

From the comments, it seemed that the Parisians hadn’t connected his sons aliases to the pair, writing it off as “Copy-cat Vigilantes” thankfully. And none of them were revealing more than “so the Fashion Disaster tried to go after Chat and Ryuko’s civvie… Not A Smart CopyBird” was the most he was able to get.

His children, on the other hand…

——

“I Fucking KNEW IT!” Tim yelled. “I knew it was her!”

“But,” Jason smirked. “You didn’t tell us.”

“Soup girl, baby bat!” Cass said gleefully.

“Wait, we both talked to her—and you didn’t say you thought it was her either Cass!”

“So what I’m hearing, if my ears don’t deceive me,” Jason continued. “Is that you all lost too.”

“What—“

“Wait a minute!”

“No way—”

Cass shrugged. She was the least invested in winning. She got to meet soup girl, who is very nice and her parents are safe for Baby Bat.

“We don’t have proof,” Dick pointed out. “Didn’t you say something about her being a mouse?”

“I—”

“Well—”

“Yes.” Cass cut through Tim and Stephanie’s waffling. “She is.”

Dick rubbed his forehead. “How many secrets can one kid have?”

“Five?” Jason said without much thought. “Limit is definitely five.”

—-

“Let me get this straight,” Miss Sting began, watching Ladybug very, very carefully. Rena and Carapace were busy that night and couldn’t act as the team’s Common Sense Filter in person. and texts only went so far.

So the job fell to Aurore. To talk (probably Marinette) Ladybug out of a Very, Stupendously, Inconceivably Bad Idea.

“You want to trust Robin—the kid who tried to kill you—to contact his mother—an assassin—to talk strategy about how to take down Hawkmoth’s civilian life’s business, not kill him, and trust that they won’t kill you?”

“…I’m bringing Chat with me.”

“Ladybug.”

“What, do you want me to use a Lucky Charm to prove this is our best bet?”

“You know what?” Miss Sting threw her hands up. “Yes, yes I do.”

“Fine.” Ladybug threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!”

A red, spotted ball with an 8 on it came down.

“… you have got to be kidding me.”

Ladybug shrugged. “Uh, Magic Eightball, is it okay to trust Robin with this?”

One shake later and the floating die window read “Without a Doubt.”

“Give me that.” Miss Sting scowled, shaking as she asked. “Should she bring someone besides Chat and Robin—like someone from our team or Wonder Woman or Aquaman?”

The ball answered “Outlook not so good.”

Miss Sting glared at the magic eight ball. “I can’t believe this!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Lucky Charms are Lucky Charms—and I gotta go.”

Miss Sting checked her beeping spinning top. Someone was just akumatized.

“Re-charge first!” Miss Sting yelled before swinging ahead.

—-

“Oh, hey, when’s Demon Spawn going to contact us?” Jason asked as other bats calmed down.

“He’s not answering his communicator.” Bruce growled. “Hal took it earlier.”

The bats paused at that.

“Well then. Trackers?”

“Disabled—what? We didn’t need anyone crashing the apology and he ran off before I could stop him,” Dick defended. He is not Damian’s keeper. Just his Batman (as yes Bruce, he is Damian’s Batman and Damian is his Robin. Current masks not-withstanding).

“Then how are we supposed to find him?” Stephanie asked as the room grew uneasy.

No one answered that.

“How’s this,” Tim began. “Me, Steph and Cass agreed on who Hawkmoth probably is, each of us has a different set of evidence for it—and I’m counting breaking into his evil Liar and the cameras catching him mid-act a few minutes ago as absolute proof.”

“I’m sorry, you did what!” Stephanie leaned over Tim’s shoulder to see. “Oh shit. Isn’t that guy—”

“One of her friends? According to their private Instagram accounts, more like partner in crime and possible Chat Noir. I mean, he’s the one that calls her his “everyday Ladybug” and voices Chat Noir in everything." Tim answered idly. “My money’s on him not knowing at all.”

Bruce twitched. Then began to add ‘stalking social media feeds’ to his to-do list tonight.

“So,” Tim stepped forward. “I suggest we send this to the Wonder Woman and ask for Robin’s comm to be returned, and failing that, I bugged the video so anything they play it on, we get access to its IP and can find where they are.”

“Have Oracle go over the bug, just in case,” Bruce told them. “In the mean time, the rest of you suit up for the night. Gotham needs its vigilantes.”

—-

Marinette wanted to go on the record that her plan (to keep the bats away) was going well. Deciding what to do with Mu—R—Damian. Damian. Damian and his offer, was a challenge.

For obvious reasons, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and Aquaman were against her asking a bunch of assassins for their help. Chat has more than a few reservations. Carapace, Rena and Miss Sting gave her looks for that plan.

But.

But it would work. She needs more information on how to make the plan burning in the back of her mind work. It’s a lot of chaos (and she may thrive in chaotic battles but this wasn’t her usual battlefield, and her team didn’t know who they were going up against for once). And Marinette? She needs to know its not just her doing this when its so out of her depths.

So despite literally everyone and their disagreements she had Chat on her right side with Damian on her left, meeting up with his Crazy, Semi-Immortal mother. And possibly his Immortal, former Black Cat candidate, grandfather.

Why?

As Marinette isn’t trusting the likely cult that makes up the Gotham Ghost Gang (Batfam if you like them) when she can get real advice and vague directions to immortal and allied (loyal and terrifying) assassins.

And yes, she wasn’t sure if Liar was wrong or right when they said it was a bad idea too.

But fuckit she’s already got Kaalki at her shoulder, looking a bit bored at the deserted rooftop that Kaalki chose for their meeting.

“داميان*,” the woman smiled at her son. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mother,” Robin greeted. “This is Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug wished to speak to you about potential strategies to take down an enemy outside of battle without violence,” Damian stressed.

“I am well-aware of the Kwami and their Chosen, اِبْن.**” The woman spoke calmly. “The League of Assassins formed to act as the Black Cat to restore the world to balance and un-burden the Order with its maintenance.” The woman offer Ladybug her hand. “I am Talia al Ghul, and I am at your service, with or without violence Ladybug.”

Marinette took her hand. “Thank you Talia. Our target being directly exposed like I planned would have…” Ladybug trailed off, thinking over the ramifications not only to Adrien, but to the whole of Gabriel’s brand, workers and all that worked with them. “Some intense ramifications I’d rather avoid.”

Talia nodded her head, waiting for more information.

“I believe its possible to topple them without affecting their employees by uncoupling them from their business, but doing so is, well, stocks and economics isn’t my strongest point.” Ladybug admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I would suggest,” Talia began, “to create a bit of chaos in the stock market. Perhaps a rumor here and there, let investors pull out and grab the abandoned stocks quickly. Consolidate them under one owner and become the company’s owner.”

Marinette twitched a bit at that. “That… sounds complicated.”

“Oh, but it isn’t. My son knows just how to that, or did you forget our lessons?” Talia asked coolly.

Damian twitched at Marinette’s side. “I did not.”

“You know,” Chat chimed in. “I do know a few things about those things. If its general chaos, well…” Chat’s face twisted in a way Marinette forgot he could do after that Chat Blanc episode.

“… I will take that into consideration.”

“Anything else?” Talia asked, watching Ladybug and her son. Specifically, how her son seemed glued to the girl’s side. “I am certain my son is able to take out your target, if all else fails.”

Damian scowled at Marinette’s side.

“However, I do believe that whatever is happening, whatever has you active, might require a more… experience hand.”

Damian brushed against her side. Code for ‘Possible Danger.’

“Thank you for the offer,” Chat moved in front of Marinette. “But mi’lady and the Guardians have that much handled.”

Talia’s eyes shifted from Chat to Ladybug, staying on her. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I merely needed more information on how to execute this type of plan, that’s all!” Ladybug almost, almost slipped into Marinette while Liar, while silenced for the moment, prodded the back of her mind. “I want to minimize collateral damage as much as I can, to everyone. The kwami already said they get to chose the target’s punishment.”

“Ah, I see.” Talia relaxed then. “You are following the kwami’s wishes. I will respect their wishes as well, Chosen.”

Marinette categorized this interaction as one of the “not too horrible, but will avoid a repeat” once they left.

—

*Damian in arabic

**son

so we have Talia now as a Player, sort of. she plays by her word pretty well so hopefully its a cameo more than anything else.

any ideas on how JL will handle the video, and if Miraculous Team should see it and freak out or only LB and keep on the dl while JL assissts in her Chaos Plot?

End of update. Will have to repost from ao3 on my phone now as desktop tumblr is being exceptionally rude. Tags always open, just takes me a bit to do—sorry to vixen for vanishing from tags

TAGS: @heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04 @bisha43rbs @izang @dreamykitty25 @emu-lumberjack @vixen-uchiha

#maribat #marinette did not sign up for this #part 10 #updated at last #my writing #long post #my writings #bio!dad bruce

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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Ask Explosion #9:

Asks answering previous posts:

Sabrina, I have one word of advice for you...

R U N

“Chat, please stop talking.”

“But that’s my thing!”

“YOU JINX EVERYTHING!!”

Ayyyyyy~

Well, it’s something, I suppose?

Answered this here.

It absolutely did. Bless you, kind and hilarious citizien. ;P

I’m torn because... on one hand, I want to give proper mythology and such for like--anything that’d be put into the show, but on the other, I liked the idea that Alix’s brother was just sort of a conspiracy who thought of stupid stuff (which is why I kept the concept for MC Jalil Kubdel).

Zoe did it really well in Scarlet Lady where Alix knew the actual mythology and started blurting it out whenever Jalil got it wrong.

New Asks:

Considering “Ikari Gozen,” I imagine Alya and Kagami don’t get along as well. I agree with basically everyone that Marinette and Kagami not getting along is bad, but Alya and Kagami not really getting along makes more sense and is more tolerable.

Since Alya is Marinette’s “““BFF”““ (supposedly), I could see her kind of being like, “You’re competing with my girl over the same guy,” and keeping Kagami at arm’s length, worried that keeping Kagami close will allow Kagami to be closer to Adrien since Adrien is an extension of their friend group (kinda, sorta, not really, but Marinette calling him a friend so technically--)

You know, Alya trying to be a good friend and help Marinette with Adrien in more subtle ways. It’s the wrong way to go about it but she’s trying.

LUKANETTE IS AMAZING IN TERMS OF PROGRESSION KDJNGJDFG, I ADORE IT. Every episode they share together, we either learn something new about them or see more details on their relationship.

I think I was already all-in before “Silencer,” but man, that episode just sealed it even more. I was like well dang, why does the love square even EXIST???

jfdngjkfdjgfdg

Incredible. Only problem is that the creator doesn’t know how to use it properly.

You mean fourteen year olds aren’t perfect human beings???? :o

(no, but really, that’s me all the time; like, she’s barely a teen!)

He’ll believe it if it’s Chat Noir who’s doing it. If Marinette ever does it though, he’ll be sure to shut it down. ;P

Ugggggh, the worst part is that I have the same exact fear that they really are going to be like yeah Ladybug you silly fool Chat Noir has been with you since the beginning!

I mean, we’re already basically getting that with the New York special; Chat was supposed to protect Paris and then didn’t tell Ladybug that he “had to” leave for New York (and the New York thing is inadvertently Marinette’s fault and parts of the fandom actually did blame her for it even though it was Chat’s choice not to say anything), then Ladybug gets upset with him when she discovers it mid-battle, which leads to Chat being distracted and Cataclysming someone (another thing that Ladybug can be “inadvertently” blamed for), then Chat gives up his miraculous so Ladybug isn’t even allowed to be angry and cue the later line of “I can’t imagine being Ladybug without... him.”

So clearly that’s saying something. Adrien doesn’t get anything close to that level and Marinette is chewed out for not asking him to stay when Nino had already asked him too.

It’s like--Marinette chooses to go after Adrien and then gets either nothing in return, or humiliated by the narrative, and then in the New York special, she decides to do nothing and everything still goes wrong while Alya yells at her for it. The “damned if she does, damned if she don’t,” on display is stunning. The girl tries to confess and it’s like, “no, not allowed, but Chat is allowed to confess.”

I still don’t understand this logic of his overarching plot but also “there’s not much of a timeline.” I think the only solid thing we’ve ever gotten was something about all the episodes in one season coming after all the episodes in a previous one, but there are still things that don’t add up? The only thing the season 3 production order will give is making sure the hero debuts work out (so no Viperion or Pegase before “Party Crasher,” for example).

It’s not really reliable. I mean, like--I’ve been experimenting with timelines for a while, and stuff like “Miraculer” baffles me. It’s basically non-canon with no value whatsoever. All it does is make “Heart Hunter” look even more confusing and treats Marinette even more horribly for not picking Chloe when she explicitly told Chloe that she wasn’t getting it back.

I’m not familiar with that one! Is it any good?

(Okay, I actually was too curious and ended up looking it up; fancy! I couldn’t have guessed that it was a webtoon! I started reading the 1st issue and before I knew it, I was on the 6th! Oops~)

Lila is totally Rashta, 100% agree. The fact that the comments have a nickname of “Trashta” for her, equivalent to Liar Rossi, says as much ;P

Because lessons that involve telling someone that they’re valid and allowed to feel a certain way don’t apply to Marinette. Isn’t it nice? :3

Not that I know of? Though I also don’t look for that kind of thing, so it’s possible that it exists and I just don’t know about it.

Even if it did exist thought, I don’t see a problem with you doing your own regardless. Good luck if you do!

No. No I do not. ;P

GREETINGS FELLOW INTJ!

And yeah, I’m not really capable of not analyzing shows. There are some small exceptions, but they’re usually not full shows in the normal sense. If there’s an ongoing plot, my mind tends to be working at all times.

In terms of Miraculous, Season 1 was harmless enough where I was bothered but pretty quiet about it, but then it just got progressively worse. It really feels like one of those things you can’t unsee when it finally hits you, y’know?

I’m glad I was able to help you get that satisfaction you need (and appreciate Lukanette, of course ;3)!

Non-Miraculous Asks:

(some heavy Puella Magi Madoka Magica salt below)

Wow, this is a really dedicated ask! Nice!

Gonna go point by point here:

1 - Yeah, the whole thing with Homura not “being able” to save everyone... kinda questionable, and I didn’t really buy the arguments they used to explain it away. I think there was this one PSP game or something with Madoka Magica where you could kind of choose what happened (like, there were bad ends where Sayaka didn’t get her soul gem back in time and her body was partially decayed; ick) and I think there’s a good end where Homura saves everyone but--yeah, not canon.

I just don’t care for twisted stories like that unless there is actually a good end on the horizon (and I mean like “Everyone Lives and is Happy” good end). Angst is just so exhausting so the second I saw Mami’s head being bitten I was just like, “Ah, okay, so we’re doing this then.”

2 - Eugh, the sexism thing. It’s so... yeah, and especially this because the whole “girls are emotional” thing, I don’t really care whether or not the show is trying to “subvert” or “explain” anything, it just feels like poor taste and I don’t like it. (I also didn’t know about that Death Note thing because I didn’t watch it, but geez.)

3 - Wow, I’ve been away from the show for so long that I forgot what Mami’s wish was; I thought it was to “not be alone” or something (or maybe not die alone?? I really don’t remember), but either way, the fact that it follows some sort of genie wish logic is just--*sigh*--they’re teenage girls, come on (plus, the “genie wish logic” is really overdone to me anyway).

4 - The other thing about Sayaka is that it’s really predictable that she’d “die so quickly.” Basically everything was pointing to her just being annihilated at some point, and being Madoka’s best friend, it was pretty inevitable that she’d go.

((semi-unrelated, but someone also asked me which character’s name was lied about before episode 3 hit and they wondered if it was Sayaka’s; it was Kyubey’s))

Yikes. Sorry you had to experience that.

Anyway, I guess I’m not experienced enough in multiple fandoms to say for sure? If I was ever in a fandom, I would just blacklist the people/stuff I didn’t like, so I didn’t get to see a tong of “bad things” going on.

+ I try really hard not to generalize fandoms into one thing.

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓝𝓸𝓻𝓶𝓼 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓑𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝓐𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 “𝓖𝓲𝓻𝓵𝔂” 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼

Oof, uhhh, shows, huh? That’s tough.

I think the main ship from Given (Mafuyu and Ritsuka) is really adorable (you might’ve seen the amusing video of their love being mutual before), and while I would’ve said the same thing for the kinda-sorta side ship, it gets--uh... really bad during the movie/rest of the manga, I’ll just say that much.

Mafuyu and Ritsuka though, totally adorable.

Inuyasha kinda? Though Inuyasha and Kagome are definitely not the kind of romantic chemistry that I lean towards (I find “the bickering couple” to be rather exhausting). Plus, Cardcaptor Sakura did the “male tsundere” better than Inuyasha did (though the Clear Card Arc was terrible, at least it’s not canon kinda-sorta? idk it seems like a mix of the anime and manga so...).

After that there’s...

...

hm.

I mean, there’s probably a couple more examples somewhere, but--yeah, I’ve got nothing. Maybe if I thought back to all the generic children shows I watched when I was little (like those old Disney live-action shows; I had no taste when I was younger), there might’ve been something that satisfied kid me but idk.

I don’t remember what post inspired this, but I have no problem answering regardless, ahaha~

My main issue is Aang’s attitude about the whole thing. I’m not saying it was right of Katara to go out and get “revenge via murder” exactly, but I also think that Zuko had the right idea with allowing her to go and face the man who killed her mother so she could get some form of closure (also note that Zuko doesn’t express any sort of opinion when Katara decides not to kill him; he just wanted her to have whatever she thought she needed to heal).

It’s also the episode where Zuko directly confronts Aang on his “violence isn’t the answer” rhetoric which then goes completely ignored as Aang lionturtles his way out of the conflict. Aang is also not confronted on his point of “forgiveness is the first step to healing” (when Katara has a right not to forgive and Aang isn’t challenged outside of Katara commenting on it) and was permitted to ride his high horse when Katara “steals” Appa like, “It's okay, because I forgive you... that give you any ideas?” which is just--

reaaaaaally "holier than thou”-esque when Aang is like, ten, and Katara is a sort of motherly figure to him. The episode even has Sokka praise Aang for how “wise” he is and I groaned through the entire thing.

Another smaller thing is that it sort of makes the air kingdom look way too “perfect” by having Aang be the “source of wisedom,” especially when it’s like “violence isn’t the answer” while all the other airbenders are dead.

#((Guess who lost asks AGAIN.))#((Ugh I'm so annoyed this laptop is really giving up on me I swear.))#((I lost like fifteen.))#((Most of them were ones I was really looking forward to answering as well.))#((Basically needed an emergency restart while I was saving all of them.))#((Really sorry about that for the last fifteen or so asks I had.))#((I remember one from emikogale that involved the ideal ending of the show and that one was great.))#((and another about the fandom not really getting along that said particularly nice things but UGH.))#((If you sent me an ask recently and it's not here then it probably got washed out.))#((Because I don't recall just outright deleting anything because I didn't want to answer it.))#((I'll try to save a whole snapshot of my inbox beforehand so this won't happen again.))#((Seriously sorry.))#((Know that I saw it and likely approved of it but stuff happened and I acknowledge it's my bad.))#((Winter is just really out to get me isn't it? ugh))#character: Sabrina Raincomprix #character: Alya Cesaire #character: Marinette Dupain Cheng #character: Chat Noir #character: Sabine Cheng #category: staff #category: salt #other: non ml talk #other: ask and answer

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ljandersen · 3 years

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For day 12 of 100 Days of Writing, I’m doing day 11′s question. Back to being a maverick (or perhaps, a renegade?). I’m not a prompt person, generally, and I liked yesterdays question so I’m going that way. Thank you, @the-wip-project

How do you create your characters? Do you make a profile of them? Do you know your character before you start writing the story?

I don’t make profiles or spreadsheets for my characters. I’m very pragmatic with my effort, which applies to both characters and worldbuilding. I create only what I need and nothing more. If I need to know my character’s favorite color or what they’d do if they won the lottery, then if it comes up, I’ll think about it then.

There are some basic things I know about my characters before writing. This goes for OC and fanfic canon characters. I identify their values. I have a basic personality in mind (ie. Meyer Briggs) and consider the cognitive functions. I focus on two to three specific traits.

Focusing on fifteen personality characteristics just makes a character unfocused in my experience. But if you hit the same few notes over and over again in a story, the character becomes stronger and more distinct. This character is brave and naïve. I’ll hit those points repeatedly through the story to where I hope readers would describe the character as brave and naïve.

If I was shooting for a whole list -- brave, honest, clumsy, creative, disorganized, funny, shy, insecure, eager, flirty, and naïve -- I’m not sure how the reader would describe the character in the end. The character becomes too unfocused. What if the stories relies on that character being brave at the end? That trait has gotten lost in the shuffle of ten others. Is it a defining trait to the readers to make that moment feel organic?

Understanding what a character values is, in my mind, the single most important thing to know about a character. It underlies all their motivation. It makes their decisions. It determines their fears. It’s the root of truly hating or truly loving something. We all have buttons. Everyone hates being lied to, for example, but the character who values honesty above all else will especially despise the liar. It will get under their skin.

To me, this is what gives the protagonists and antagonist such strong motivation to oppose one another. If one values people and one values money, then a situation with high stakes for both sides, that goes against one value while achieving the other will cause a cataclysmic confrontation. But to get to that point, you have to be very clear about demonstrating what the character values.

Knowing those general things about a character, having a “sense” of them, is all I need to write them. I know extra specifics going in, of course, if I need it to serve the plot. If something is important in their background to support a plot point, then I’ll know their background. If it doesn’t come into play that I can see, then I won’t spend (or what feels like, waste) my time inventing it.

Along the way, I discover more about my characters. Sometimes they suddenly develop history or quirks I never intended, but which plays into the story and round out the character. I learn little details along the way about my characters as the story unfolds. Who the character is becomes clearer.

By the end of the story, I usually have such a strong sense of the character, I’ll need to go back and rewrite some of their parts in the beginning of the story. Now that I know them better, my second draft can have the character being consistent and vivid straight from the beginning.

Characters are emotional anchors for the story, and I think they’re as important as the plot. The plot develops the characters, and the characters drive the plot. It’s a give and take relationship that’s pivotal to how the story plays out.

I know the basic points for my characters and my plot, and then I set out to learn the full story as I write. I let the characters and plot move together and shape each other. I always end up with a character and plot with more depth than I imagined, but which doesn’t feel formulaic and tacked on for color.

It’s taken me years to find a process that works for me. I always thought outlines and character profiles would be the organized, pragmatic way of writing I would need, but it never worked. Having a vague map of characters and plot points and discovering the story is my way forward. I love that the characters are part of the discovery.

#100daysofwriting #writing memes #writing question #my writing #on writing #on characters #long post

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xhanisai · 5 years

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AU where Adrien is darker and has less morals

- Similar to how things are in canon but the show would be rated r15 cos of heavy violence >:D - Basically Adrien looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you. Marinette looks like a cinnamon roll and is a cinnamon roll. - During the umbrella scene in Origins, Adrien works out that Marinette is Ladybug. He keeps quiet about it though to respect her privacy and will wait till she's ready to share on her own terms. - Marinette is unaware that Adrien and Chat Noir are the same person whilst Adrien is oblivious to her humongous crush on him. He tries to subtly win her over both as Adrien and as Chat, resulting in Blushinette or Sassinette. - Whenever an Akuma manages to get a hit on Ladybug or any of Chat's friends, he doesn't hesitate to pummel them down vigorously. - Ladybug always has to scold him for being too harsh on the Akumas, constantly reminding him that there's an innocent victim underneath being used as a puppet. - Imagine a scenario: "Goodness Chaton! Just because they gave me a black eye doesn't mean you can go ahead and break their arm or toss them off the Eiffel Tower! Only God would know what would happen if I were to bleed from an itty bitty scratch," "Then that would be the day we find out what Cataclysm does to a person, M'Lady," "...N-Nice joke Chat." "I wasn't joking Ladybug." - Since he already knows, Chat isn't insistent on knowing her identity or asking if they could reveal themselves to each other. - This mad lad is very protective over Marinette in school in his own way. He's infamously known for having eyes that would "burn your soul" if you get on his wrong side - He is sarcastic and sharp with Chloe, especially when he finds out that she made Marinette's school life a nightmare before he and Alya joined. In fact his mumbled threats have Chloe shit scared to come near him or Mari. - Chloe does try to improve as a person but our lovely trio: Alya, Adrien and Nino repels Chloe from coming near Marinette. Our Asian girl is blissfully unaware of this set up, too busy thinking about tonight's patrol with Chat. - Though, Adrien can be really sweet and selfless. When Nino admits that he's crushing on Marinette too despite knowing Adrien is aiming for her, Adrien encourages him to go for her. It killed him inside but Adrien thought that if he can't make Marinette happy, at least she'd be in great hands with Nino (Animan episode). Thankfully, Alya and Nino gets locked in a cage, bonds, and BOOM we have Djwifi~ - Chat Noir's solo patrols is when the beast wakes up. The good people of Paris may see him and Ladybug as a comforting presence but the bad, evil people know how brutal Chat can be. - Chat has broken limbs belonging to thieves, shattered ribs belonging to abusive people, left killers in a near death state. - Adrien feels bad enough that Ladybug is unaware of his actions during the night and the last thing he wants to do is shed unnecessary blood, scaring the heroine. - Plagg fully supports Adrien's actions as he's chaotic neutral "Listen kid, this is why the power of Destruction, us, serve as a counterpart to the power of Creation. We exist to show that mercy is a luxury and the consequences that befalls on the people that take advantage of kindness. Ladybug may turn the other cheek and forgive; we fight fire with with fire. We will take away life if necessary. So don't feel guilty at all." "Thanks Plagg...I just want to keep Paris...and my Marinette safe no matter what. I'd do anything. Everything." - (See the parallels between Adrien and Gabriel here~? ;D) - Hawkmoth/Gabriel is very intimidated by Chat Noir and Adrien also managed to scare him a few times. - When Ladybug contacted Chat Noir to protect Marinette whilst she plays as bait and goes on the date with Evillustrator, he cataclysmed Chloe's balcony to dust in rage for her recklessness. - During Horrificator, Chloe didn't interrupt the kiss between Marinette and Adrien; she stood there gawking. Adrien was a smitten kitten, full on kissed Marinette that Nino and Alya had to shout their names so that they pulled apart. - "Girl, you're one of the most smartest people out there yet you can't grasp the fact that Mini Agreste is head over heels for you???" "Alya-aaa! You're just saying that to make me feel hopeful..." "He. Made. Out. With. You. For. Ages. On. That. Film. We. Did." "Cos it was in the script!" "There was tongue!" "He was making it realistic?" "MON DIEU MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG! HE WAS LIKE A SATISFIED CAT THAT GOT THE CREAM AFTER THAT DAMMIT!" - Oblivious Marinette is best Marinette. - During the Dark Cupid/Dislocoeur event, after getting hit by an arrow, Chat successfully cataclysmed Ladybug's mask. She pulls him in for a kiss to not only break the spell but also to hide her face. - When Chat regains consciousness, Ladybug found a plastic bag conveniently blowing past, puts it over her head to hide her identity. - The rest of the event goes as canon except Marinette had a plastic bag on her head this whole time. - Tikki finds out that Adrien is both Chat Noir and that he has known Ladybug's identity from the start. She finds that it makes sense with how extra protective he is over her civilian identity and thanks Adrien for keeping Marinette safe at all times as well as being a worthy partner. - A secret group of criminals that are against the heroes, plot the downfall of Ladybug and Chat Noir together. - Chat Noir, having underground links and connections from his feats, catches wind of this. - He's too late and Ladybug gets shot by a special bullet straight after an akuma attack, right in the chest. - Chat Noir cataclysms every single criminal that was part of the organisation into rotting corpses in pure rage. Hawkmoth tries to akumatise him but Chat cataclysms the butterfly too into dust. - Marinette luckily survives thanks to the hospital receiving her so quickly. She was born with Dextrocardia with Situs Inversus (which means that her heart is on the right side rather than the left). If her heart was in the normal position, she would have died. - Adrien doesn't leave her side during the day and Chat Noir during the night. Marinette has no recollection of the incident she got shot. - When Lila comes along, Adrien knew she was trouble and a liar from the start. He had the urge to cataclysm the whole school as they bought into Lila's lies without any questioning. Plagg almost encouraged him. - Adrien took the opportunity to mess with Lila. "I am Volpina. A hero much, much better and stronger than Ladybug. This is my miraculous," "Hehe...Lila, Lila, oh Lila... showing me your precious miraculous is a huge mistake. If you don't want a first hand view of a fox getting skinned alive, you will listen to I, Hawkmoth, and hand over your miraculous to me." - Lila literally runs off, scared shitless, shouting that she was joking and that Volpina doesn't exist. - Marinette overhears everything and has a crisis. "OH NO TIKKI WHAT DO I DO!? THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IS THE ENEMY OF PARIS AND ICANTFIGHTHIMWHAAAAT!?" - It takes Tikki 15 minutes to calm Marinette down and promise that Adrien isn't Hawkmoth. Said kwami swears internally to teach both Plagg and Adrien a lesson for riling Mari up to this level. - Adrien overhears Marinette's freakout cos he's literally 6 feet away and both he and Plagg are wearing shit eating grins. "Ah, so the stammering and shyness makes sense now. Love of her life hmmm? I love the sound of that~" "Keep your whiskers on kitten and run before Tikki throttles me for letting you go too far with that joke!" "Aww... but I wanna ask Marinette for a little kiss," "YOU WILL CAUSE THE LITTLE BUG TO COMBUST AND DIE AND BOOM PARIS IS A GONER!"

My artworks for this AU:

(x) - Doodles

(x) - Horrificator kiss

(x) - Mini Comic

#my aus #dark adrien au #i stg this is the fourth time i'm trying to upload it i think tumblr just hates mobile #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #marichat #ladynoir #ladrien #please tumblr just post this i fcukcing can't even anymore #ml #mlb #saved this on drafts on mobile and i can't view them like jfc #this also gives me dark sonic x amy vibes huehueuhe

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arlakos · 4 years

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Marinette’s list of Parisian Warcrimes (Or why I need to vent about all the bad stuff Marinette has done)

Yeah, I’m doing this.

People be talking on Tumblr about why Marinette is the best character in the show and talking shit about every other character, from Adrien so I think I'll do what I do best and piss off people.

You want another Adrien salt Fic about why he’s a stalker to validate your sensitivity to everything that triggers you?

You want another AU where Chloe goes full-on villain and asshole mode so that you can be just another Astruc stan?

Do you want another Lukanette fanfic because Luka is the ‘Better Adrien’ even though all he does is play a guitar?

TOO BAD! THIS TIME WE BE DOING SOME MARINETTE SALT AND WE GOING IN HARD! WE ARE GONNA BE RUNNING THIS BLUE HAIRED GIRL INTO THE GROUND THE SAME WAY THE FANDOM TREATED THE OTHER CHARACTERS!

THIS IS PAYBACK FOR ALL THE SALT FICS THAT HAVE BEEN FORCED TO SEE THAT DON’T EVEN BOTHER TO USE NATURAL LOGIC!

(And I'm gonna love every bit of it)

So without further ado, Marinette is sentenced to be salted on the following charges:

Having a planner that tracks Adrien's every location/activity so she can stalk him at all times and actively uses (Stormy Weather).

Using her powers to prevent Adrien from dancing with another person (yes, even if that person is Chloe) (Bubbler)

Stealing Adrien's phone (Copycat)

Reading other peoples letters, even if they did throw it in the garbage (Dark Cupid)

Abandoning Paris (Ladybug Origins) (Yes I know people are going to be angry at me especially for this one, but if Everyone gives shit for Chat Noir for doing the same thing in Syren, then Ladybug gets it as well. No double standards on this post)

Literally destroying Max’s hopes and dreams by beating him in a game entering a tournament just so that she could be with Adrien. I don’t care who was better in the game or won, Marinette had no prior interest in the tournament and even knew how much Max wanted to enter, yet still done it anyway the second she realized Adrien was there. Yeah, others will say its cute that she wanted to be with Adrien, but if she really wanted to spend time with him, all she had to do was, you know, ASK LIKE A NORMAL PERSON!!! (Gamer)

Ladybug not listening to advice on where the akuma is all because she didn't like Chloe. who made a small lie before to her. Yeah Ladybug, someone making a little lie to save themselves embarrassment is really valid enough of a reason for their opinion and advice to be worth nothing. And it caused another akuma, good for you. (Antibug)

Oooh, a big one...Marinette stalked Lila and Adrien pretty much all day, under the guise of ‘not liking liars’ (yeah right) and once she had a ‘valid’ excuse to pretty much ruin Lila’s chances of wooing Adrien (whether or not she had an actual chance is irrelevant) she transformed into Ladybug and ABSOLUTELY EMBARRASSED HER AND HUMILIATED HER right in front of Adrien, when she could have just pulled her aside and just told her off in private and quietly so that she wouldn’t do it again. When Adrien questions her says she did it with the excuse of ‘not liking liars’. (Volpina)

Not telling Fu who the book belonged too when questioned on where she got it. I get that this was an excuse to prolong the shows run time, but if you were going to bring this up in the show and pretend that what Marinette did wasn’t a big deal, then they shouldn’t have added it in the first place. (The Collector)

Not bothering to tell her grandmother the truth and sneaking off to hang with her friends. (Befana)

Ladybug leading on Chat Noir. If she really didn't want to go, she could have just outright said No and be done with it, instead of just a ‘maybe’. (Glaciator)

Ladybug Literally not telling Chat Noir about the Guardian or where the hell all these heroes are coming from. There was literally no excuse, Adrien didn’t need to wait ‘until he was ready’, he literally became a hero the same time as Ladybug, it wasn’t like he was ‘the new guy’ and Ladybug was ‘the more experienced one’. I can give this to Fu as well, but I still feel that Ladybug should’ve told him regardless from the get go, she trusted a man she hadn’t properly met until 1 season later more than her own partner who stuck with her since day one. (Syren)

Taking pollen away from Chloe... yeah this really doesnt count. I just simply liked Chloe’s face in Malediktator when she saw Pollen again.

Talking shit about Chloe behind her back then acting all friendly to her as Ladybug when she needed her to become Queen Bee. Not really bad, it's just incredibly rude. (Maledictator)

Again, the same shit as Stormy Weather, instead of being punished for having the planner that details every bit of Adriens day to day activities, she gets rewarded by the writers. Not so much a Marinette crime as it is and ASS-truc crime. (Troublemaker)

Snooping through Marcs Private book, annoying him when he wanted to be isolated, and just straight up not having Marc give him the script himself. She could have tried just bringing Marc to Nathaniel and showing him the script together. (Reverser).

Making a lie about organizing a party when she definitely didn’t plan one. Yes, even if she was going to do it afterwards and planned to make the pastries herself for the party. She really is a hypocrite when she comes to lying, even though that’s a personality trait the writer's press is the reason why she hates Lila. (Season 2 Finale-Catalyst and Mayura).

Sabotaging Kagami’s attempts at being with Adrien. (Animaestro)

Marinette telling her Grandpa that rice bread is better than wheat bread. Anybody who has tasted bread would say otherwise. Although to be fair I blame Tom for this and this isn’t really as bad as the others (Bakerix)

Marinette throws Chat under the bus by pretending she loves him and leaving him to face Tom when the entire thing was her fault. I know she did it to protect her identity, but it still was an ass thing to do, and Chat found Marinette in her own house, Marinette could have used any excuse, including but not limited to, baked goods. (Weredad)

Marinette... LITERALLY... TRIED TO BREAK INTO ADRIEN’S HOME... ALL BECAUSE LILA WAS THERE...if the fireman was smarter than most other characters in the show he could’ve literally called the cops on her, leading to her getting arrested and Gabriel (or even Adrien) filing a restraining order against her. That and she steals Juleka’s bike. Not cool dude. (Oni-Chan)

Marinette not making it very clear to Chloe that she can’t get the miraculous back under any circumstances due to her exposed identity, especially after Chloe claims she’ll need them again. (Miraculer)

Marinette sneaks into the boy’s party despite wanting bro time, all because she wanted another botched attempt to confess to Adrien. (Party Crasher)

THAT CREEPY SCENE WITH THE ‘ADRIEN WAX STATUE’. I dont want to talk about it. You know which one I'm talking about. If you don’t, thank god, but IF YOU THINK THAT WAS CUTE IN ANY WAY OR THAT ITS ADRIEN FAULT BECAUSE HE STOOD STILL, YOU NEED TO GET YOUR HEAD CHECKED. (god i still have nightmares) (Puppeteer 2)

Not really a crime, but talking literally all the miraculi when you only needed a few. What would happen if she screwed up and Hawkmot got all the miraculous, or lost a few for the Akuma to obtain? (Kwamibuster)

Marinette (or Lady Noire) being an absolute dick to Misterbug during the entire time they were fighting Reflekdoll, insulting Misterbug for misusing his power when she does the same thing and claiming Misterbugs usual job is ‘easy’. Yeah...no. Fuck you Lady Noire, go eat a cataclysm to the face (Reflekdoll)

Marinette sabotaging Friendship day for Kagami just because she didnt want the latter to see Adrien.. at all. (Ikari Gozen)

Claiming Adrien is a good guitarist when Luka is an actual one. Not a crime, just dumb (Desperada)

Giving a Miraculous to Adrien when she can’t even control herself around him and could be distracted (Desperada)

Being too cute in that picture Marinette and Adrien sleeping together on the train. Yes i know this isn’t a crime, i do like some stuff about her, i just think the pic is really cute. (Startrain)

(Look at it, they’re adorkable. Awww....)

(Wait, aren’t I supposed to be salty?)

NOW, for the biggest crime of them all...

Literally not confessing to Adrien even once. Aside from the fact its turned the ‘romance part’ of the show into a joke, Marinette not telling Adrien the truth already or lying about her feelings is the reason we have the ‘Marinette is just a good friend meme’. No wonder he thinks you are ‘just a friend’. THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE BEEN TELLING HIM.

My evidence? EVERY SINGLE EPISODE!!!

...

Ahhhh. Much better.

Well, now that I have successfully gotten rid of all that anger and salt and manifested it into a physical memento of my anger for this show and its main character, I’m going to relax while people get mad and triggered that I insulted the ‘Perfect Marinette’ and leave me angry messages. For all those that listened and don’t hate me or even agree with what I have said, thanks for reading my large amount of vented writing. I hope you have a pleasant day.

Let's hope for season 4 of Miraculous to be better now that Zag is back. The fandom knows we don't need another salty season.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Season 1 to 3 #ML salt #A lot of salt #Marinette salt #Probably a lot of Marinette hate #AND FOR GOOD REASON #A bit of writer salt as well #A lot of ASS-truc Salt #Miraculous Ladybug salt

179 notes · View notes

silvia7272 · 4 years

Text

ML Salt SongFic ~ 2 Pull Me Back

I’m so glad how much positivity this got. I’m so happy guys, I can’t believe it. I’ve decided to use this song because 1, reasons that you will see and 2, I thought it kinda fitted how Marinette’s feeling. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Word Count: 3822

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue, @daminett4life, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themamaravenclaw, @emmathedestroyer, @gwennex, @angelaaali (It won't let me tag you sorry) @amayakans, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Sorry, it's different but this was the reason I started posting in the first place.

***

Marilody had never been as proud of herself as she had in that instance. She had finally outed that liar, that liar who had made her life hell ever since she came back. If it weren’t for her newfound friends, she didn’t know what she would do. As she thought back to them there was a nagging feeling telling her to stop, for them. But she pushed it aside, they would understand, she was sure of it. They would’ve done the same thing. Right?

She shook the doubt away, of course, they would. They all fought for justice, all helped make that piece. What was that saying again? No pain no gain. She may not be the same Marinette, but her friends mattered to her damn it.

And they had been wronged for the last time.

“It’s what they would’ve wanted, she’s hurt us for far too long… It has to be” She continued on her trek.

***

In all of his millennia of living, never had he seen a Ladybug’s chosen become so broken to be hurt like this. Plagg remembered how Adrien and Marinette had a disagreement, but they were kids, after all, they would sort it out eventually so there would’ve been nothing to worry about. But then he waited, and waited… And nothing happened. He had snuck out to speak with Tikki about the situation, but they couldn’t exactly say anything without revealing something important identity wise.

It was around that time Rosina came into the fray. And boy was he thankful. She made Marinette and Adrien happy and he was glad. How she made Chloé become somewhat tolerable he’d never know. But it was great for the time being.

Until today.

He tried to get Adrien’s attention, but the music was hypnotising him and Plagg couldn’t get to him.

Now he felt what the dinosaurs did.

Panic.

‘If I can’t get to Adrien, then how can we get our Ladybug back?’ He looked around, if Adrien couldn’t see him, he doubted anyone else would make note of him.

All he saw was a never-ending sea of white. Just how powerful was this Akuma?

No, wait! He saw something. That hair was familiar, and he had to make a quick decision. She was a worthy candidate and he was sure Tikki wouldn’t have minded.

After all, she was friends with her chosen.

He slipped the ring off Adrien’s finger; he didn’t want to part from him, but he really had no choice. And he zipped past to get to his target.

‘Almost there’ Her back was turned as she carried on.

The ring she supported was special, not as much as a Miraculous, but it had been made because of the Miraculous wish.

It’s a long story that even the author doesn’t know how to word yet please give it time.

If he could slip that ring onto that same finger it might cause a magic reaction to break her out.

‘Here's hoping’ He was lucky, the black cat was very lucky.

A hardly visible light encased the girl before she fell to her knees.

“Owww, what happened? Wait, where am I?” Her head searched frantically around as Plagg had to place his hands on her cheeks to get her attention.

“Rosina listen to me! M-”

“Woooooah, you’re a Kwami, right? Just like Tikki? What are you doing here?” He forgot how inquisitive she could get, but if letting her be caught up would get this whole mess sorted, then so be it. He internally sighed, he hated explaining stuff, that was more Tikki’s forte.

“Yes, I’m a Kwami, Chat Noir’s Kwami to be specific, Marinette’s been Akumatized into a music type Akuma. My chosen got caught in its power before being able to transform so I need your help. I know your Crisono and friends with Ladybug. And to be honest, your Paris’ last hope.”

“Mari’s been Akumatized? I have to help in any way I can. Tell me what I can do!” He was relieved, that was quicker than he expected.

“I know you're kinda skilled in Akuma battles, but since your alone, for this, you need to find the object and Cataclysm it. Since I don’t think anything has been destroyed everything should be reverted to normal.”

“Alright, so I just have to say the words, right?” He nodded. Maybe this will be good, if she can combine those two powers, wouldn’t that be awesome?

“I Bequeath This Blade To Dance”

The bright light appeared and turned into her usual weapon of a Sabre.

“Ok. Oh, I’ve always wanted to say this. Plagg! Claws Out! Did I say it right?”

“Yes, you diiiiiiiiiiiiiiid” He was sucked into the ring. And her transformation begun.

***

Marilody couldn’t push that… Feeling away any longer.

It wasn’t Hawkmoths, it was a bit too feminine for that, no. This feeling made her doubt herself, made her doubt everything. It sounded like her own voice.

¨They’ll hate you for it.¨

¨You’re only doing this for yourself.¨

¨How selfish of you, using your own friends for your own personal gain.¨

¨This is why all your other friends left you, you never deserved them in the first place.¨

♫Stop it♫

¨You’re the worst Ladybug that has ever been chosen, why did Fū trust you.¨

¨Of course Hawkmoth would Akumatize you one of these days. It was inevitable for someone like you.¨

♫Stop♫

¨You might as well Team up with him considering all you’ve done.¨

♫Stop iiiiiiiiiiiiit!♫

A barrier filled with notes trapped her. Her mind rapidly playing a stream of events of a twisted version of the truth, was this Hawkmoth’s doing? She didn’t know, she couldn’t tell. All she knew was…

♫None of it matters… None of it matters♫

She hated this, this power. She wanted it to stop but she didn’t know-how! She forgot.

♫None of it matters Who am I? What Am I? Tell me now! Just break it all (Just break it all) Take it all away♫

She took in the view, with her power, she was sure it would spread throughout all of Paris. Wasn’t she Ladybug? Wasn’t she meant to protect not destroy?

♫I'm sitting here Pieces of fractured fears So tear it down (Tear it down) Tear it down I want to tear it down!♫

She didn’t deserve any of her friends, none of them. Why were they friends with her anyway? Did they just pity her?

♫Standing on the edge This window is open again I have nothing, nothing left!♫

Why was she Ladybug in the first place? Why did Fū choose her, Rosina would be much better being Ladybug. After being Akumatized she was sure Fū would take it back.

♫Tear me down (Tear Me Down) Tear me down (Ohhhhh! Ohh!) Tear me down♫

Everyone would leave her she just knew it. She wouldn’t blame them; she had failed everything. Everyone.

♫Please pull me back Pull me back Pull me back♫

Rosina knew she would have to search for her friends in order to save them, she hadn’t expected to find her classmates in such a state like they were.

They were transfixed to a view in front of them, Rosina knew not to turn around just in case. But the puzzle remained.

How to free them?

It was then she saw a piece of crumpled up paper in Nathaniel’s hand. Picking it up she thought it seemed like a plausible solution, there wouldn’t be any negative effect if she did.

She knew she wasn’t the best singer but her Aunt had once complimented her so that was enough for her.

♪I know the room will spin Nothing left, the consequence I'm not, I'm not I'm not giving up yet♪

They were starting to move, yes it was working. This was great, just a bit more.

♪Take my hand Hold it out I will pull you in♪

“Huh? What happened?” They were awake, thank goodness. Nathaniel was the closest one to her and she couldn’t help hugging the confused boy.

“H-Hey who are you? And, where are we?” He struggled to get the unknown assailant off him, but he gasped when he noticed who it could’ve been.

“C-Chat Noir?” Adrien’s blood ran cold. He checked for his ring only to see it was gone. Oh god, he was being punished. He wasn’t Chat Noir anymore, he had it taken away from him! Was this because he hadn’t stuck with Marinette for the situation? Would this mean his freedom was gone?

“Oh no, no no no of course not. I’m err Kittie Crissi” She frantically waved her hands as everyone else saw the newcomer.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir got caught in this trap while they gave me time to escape. Chat’s Kwami came to me for assistance since I can’t purify or destroy an Akuma. I’m only using this temporarily.” She clapped her hands, a way to get their attention.

“Anyway, is everyone safe? No physical injuries?”

“Only emotional damage done. How could you Lila?! After everything we’ve done for you and this is how you repay us? This is all your fault?!” Lila stopped the fake display of her façade and smirked.

“Oh please, if all of you hadn’t believed me so willingly none of this would’ve happened, this is just as much as your fault than it is mine.” She flicked her hair away not bothered about the looks she had received.

“How, you tricked us?!” Boy, did Alya have some nerve.

“I didn’t force you to believe everything I said, honestly I was surprised for how long I got away with it, you were the ones that pushed Marinette away, don’t try to play innocent. The only ones that didn’t were Marinette’s real friends.”

She was right.

No matter what, Lila never told them to be mean to Marinette, just that she had hurt her, she had manipulated them, but she didn’t force them to do anything, that was their fault, no Akuma involved.

“All of you need to stay here, I’ll place a barrier to make sure no other notes target you” She only got some nods as most were still mortified about what they had done and what they'd just learnt.

She was about to place it when she felt a hand.

“Yes, Adrien?” He looked heartbroken.

“Please save Marinette. I don't think she’s being controlled by Hawkmoth” He was glad he knew her secret. Because he knew she was more than capable of saving the day as well as everyone.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save Mari. I promise” She pattered his arm before placing them in a barrier with that object of hers. It would take time to complete, but most of it was finished.

She winked before running off to save her friend.

***

“As your gifter, I expect you to submit to me and stop this pity party of yours. Find both Miraculous now!” His voice kept coming back, and with all the other thoughts she couldn’t recognise fiction from reality.

♫What am I doing with this? I'd rather it break and twist♫

She touched her Akumatized object, why hadn’t she broken it yet? Why hadn’t she moved from her place? So many questions formed she felt she was having a breakdown.

♫It's a steady climb going out of my mind Six feet under torn rippled to sunder!♫

She couldn’t escape. Her power was overflowing. She couldn’t control it any longer.

She was afraid.

♫Tear me down (Tear Me Down) Tear me down (Ohhhhh Ohh!) Tear me down♫

Her cries were heard by the whole class. Most of them guilty of what they had done to her, their former friend. She was begging for help and they couldn’t do anything.

♫Please pull me back Pull me back Pull me back♫

She could hear her friends wails of pain through her melody. She had to get there soon, then everything would be alright. Oh god, she had to save Ladybug, she needed to make sure she was alright.

But she couldn’t get far as a stranger blocked her way.

“Chloé? Oh, thank goodness you’re alright, you have to-” She paused. Her eyes weren’t the ones she was used to, they held a musical note instead of the Iris.

She looked around her to see Kagami and Luka there as well. On the plus side now she knew they were ok, hypnotised but ok, she was getting worried about her friends.

But they didn’t look like how the class were. First of they were able to move around, and second… They were attacking her! She had to block them all with her new Baton.

“Chloé, Luka, Kagami! It's me, Rosina, please stop!” But they didn’t listen. They were like mindless slaves doing whatever their Master wanted.

Maybe it would work again?

♪I know the room will spin Nothing left, the consequence I'm not, I'm not I'm not giving up yet♪

They had stopped, instead, they covered their heads with their hands, looking to have an inner battle with themselves.

They were trying to break free.

♪Take my hand Hold it out I will pull you in♪

They all gasped at whatever power released their hold on the three. They breathed heavily as they surveyed their background.

“Where’s Marinette?” Kagami said sharply. It seemed she had recovered first before noticing the figure standing in her vision. Her face was filled with confusion, this wasn’t Chat Noir at all. It took her a moment before her eyes located the bow she was wearing.

“Rosina? How did you get Chat Noir’s Miraculous?”

“It’s a long story. But right now, you three have to stay with the others and keep safe. Marinette’s been Akumatized and I don’t want you three to get hurt”

“What? How did that happen, we were all at the park with our song… Sheet?” Luka seemed to remember the events that transpired, how could he forget that note of sadness that played through Marinette’s heart as her former friend ripped that sheet up.

“But we can’t just leave, and I’ll be damned if I have to spend any more time with those utter losers” Luka shot her a glare, one of those losers was his Sister after all, but Chloé waved him off.

“I’m sorry Chloé but it's not safe, please Chloé” It was then they heard something. A horrifying cry of guilt and sadness.

Of Marinette.

“Even if she’s an Akuma it doesn’t feel like she’s being controlled by Hawkmoth, but even then I don’t think she’s in control of her powers, if she were to hurt any of you Marinette would never forgive herself, and she might be Akumatized again, at least with me I have a Miraculous and I’m trained in this area.” They stayed silent; they knew she was right but not being able to help left them helpless.

Chloé laid a hand on Rosina’s shoulder, a smile as she soon spoke.

“You better promise to get her back then, or you’ll never have that sleepover” That joke soothed her, she was glad they were happy at a time like this.

“Of course, Chlo, no need to worry I’ll get her back. I promise” She pointed in the direction they should head in before she continued her search of the bluenette.

♪(I'm not giving up yet)♪

She was racing towards her friend, there was only so long that barrier would last without her being there to concentrate. Plus, what if Marinette was moving around and found the class, that would be a problem.

‘Mari… I promise I won’t leave you. I’ll never betray you… Ever’

There, in front of her!

There was a barrier. And-

“Marinette!” She yelled her name repeatedly. Couldn’t she see anything?

With her options minimised, she placed her hand on the barrier, would she be able to feel a presence?

Her head shot up! She noticed. But before she could utter a word, a note flew out to her. She had to dodge, and fast!

“Marinette please listen to me. You can’t let it control you, please hear me.”

♪Let's not go so far Up in flames in skies My fears start to sleep But this nightmare will end And turn into a dream♪

The barrier, maybe if she broke it?

“Please work” She jumped and with all her might hit the barrier causing it to shatter completely.

“Mari-” She got hit!

It flew her across several feet and boy did it hurt.

“Marinette, please listen to me. Please fight it. I can help you. Please” She pleaded to no avail. Marinette looked so… Scared. Did she not... Realize that it was her.

♪I know the room will spin Nothing left, the consequence I'm not, I'm not I'm not giving up yet♪

Even with the barrier broken it would still be a struggle to get closer whilst avoiding the notes. If she could just get close enough maybe she could show her.

But that would mean taking some hits. Her mind made a decision as soon as she saw her friend. She could tell she was in pain, and so so fearful.

♪Take my hand♪

She stepped forward.

♪Hold it out♪

She was hit too many times to count but like hell she was gonna let that stop her.

♪I will pull you in♪

She placed her hand on Marinette’s as a final note collided with her stomach.

And oh god was the pain immense. But she had made it, and by the decreasing number of notes, she guessed Marinette recognised her.

“Marinette?” She prayed she wasn’t under Hawkmoth’s control.

♫R-Rosina?♫ Her voice was shaky, almost as if she hadn’t realised who was in front of her. Her eyes were back to normal.

“Yes. It's me. Are you ok Ma-?” She couldn’t finish her sentence before the Akuma threw herself on the new feline heroine.

♫I-I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. I hurt everyone… I can’t do anything right♫ She pattered her back as she had that first day they had met. She was breaking down again.

♫I’m so so sorry Rosina. I hurt you and all of my friends, I’m a failure, I got Akumatized when I knew I shouldn’t have. I-I I’m so pathetic.♫ She cried harder as Rosina held her.

It almost made her want to cry.

But she had to try and be as strong as possible.

“Look at me, Mari. Please” Rosina couldn’t see her eyes, but her head lifted itself.

“You are the smartest, the bravest, the kindest girl I know. If anyone’s a failure its Hawkmoth for thinking he could control you. As your friend we will continue to stand by your side, nothing you can say will change that, we won’t leave you, not Chloé, not Kagami, not Luka and certainly not me.” She couldn’t take it, her own tears fell down, recalling all her happy memories with her first friend, everything that had happened, she wanted it to go back to the way it was.

“Mari, please tell me where the Akuma is, so we can end this… Together” Intertwining her hand with hers the tears never stopped as Marinette nodded.

♫I-It’s my headpiece… And Rosina?♫ Marinette grabbed her attention.

“Hmm?” She gave a gentle smile.

♫I’m sorry about-♫

“Hey, you have nothing to apologise for. You did everything right” She reached for the headpiece, breaking it with ease. The butterfly tried to escape, but it flew too slow.

“Cataclysm!” And like that, it was over. With Marinette Akumatized no more, her power vanished, causing the white landscape to evaporate.

Marinette, bless her, collapsed into Rosina after everything was over, struggling to keep Hawkmoth off bay for that much proved too much, not like she could blame her.

She heard footsteps racing towards her, looking around it was her three friends. They held faces of worry and relief at the same time.

“Crisono, are you alright? Is Marinette ok? Can you stand?” Luka bent down to check on Marinette and was glad to find her just asleep.

“I’m sort of fine. I didn’t want to say anything to Mari, but she really did a number on me, but since the Akuma’s gone I doubt there's any reason for Ladybug to use her Miraculous cure just for me. But we should get going, I’d much rather rest if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course. Marinette’s is closest, let’s go” Crisono was in no state to carry Marinette so Luka volunteered while Kagami helped her up. Chloé grabbed her friend's other side, and she was pleased that it was finally over.

“Hey”

Damn it! She just had to jinx it huh.

“I-Is Marinette alright?” It was Rose who asked first, one of the tiniest being the bravest of the group for once.

“You would know if you were still her real friends!” Kagami’s tone was cold and brutal, but they knew it was true.

“B-But then maybe we can help,” Rose tried again, she really did just want to start over, Marinette was so kind, how could they forget.

“You? Help! Are you serious! How dare you!” Chloé would’ve continued until she heard her friend cough, it didn’t look too harmful, but she was still worried none the less.

“Just stay away from us got it, I won’t hesitate to call DaddyKins if any of you try to harass us with your ‘sympathy’ got it” They started walking away, until one of them asked a simple question.

One that should’ve been answered a long time ago.

“Why was Marinette so upset over that song sheet?” Adrien simply asked. It was silent as the four stopped in their tracks. Until the feline heroine surprisingly spoke.

“If you couldn’t tell, that piece of paper Marinette got so upset over didn’t belong to her” The class was shocked, then Marinette was lying? No wait, it looked like Crisono hadn’t finished speaking.

“She was asked to decorate it, that person along with their friends made the lyrics themselves, she spent so much of her time and effort on it because she cared about whom it was for. She was so excited to give it back before you all came, claiming she had stolen it. When you ripped it up, she wasn’t angry about her wasted time. She was overcome with grief for her friend's hard work ruined in a matter of seconds.” They winced at the harshness Crisono used, but they knew they deserved it.

“I won’t tell you who asked, but you should know that you’re the first to have angered them, immensely. Now please do yourself a favour and not get Akumatized. That would be terrific” They walked off leaving their class behind.

They all, minus Lila, had too many thoughts running around their heads.

Why did they choose fairy-tale over reality?

Gossip over honesty?

How were they going to fix this?

Could they even fix this?

Would Marinette ever forgive them?

Would Marinette want to forgive them?

But mostly…

Would Marinette be ok?

***

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Changed - Can’t pay the rent to The consequence because it would make more sense.

This was a bit more angsty than I had planned… And I loved every minute of it.

Also might draw Rosina in the Cat Miraculous later, I already have her name picked out.

That’s it, I really hope you enjoyed this little Two-Shot, but sorry if it's not what you expected. Although now the question is do I say what happens next as a short story or just make a whole new SongFic about it? But for that, I have no idea how I would write the aftermath. If any of you have ideas, please tell me I’m always willing to listen to ideas. But I am so glad so many people like this, I think I saw 300 notes on it, and I can’t tell you how happy that’s made me. Also, if anyone knows the song then I’ll be impressed, anyone I tell to has no idea what I’m talking about.

If I do another one would you still want Class Salt, Sugar or a mix? If you want a mix, please tell me each character to be either Salted or Sugared as I’m not a mind reader.

Edit 1: I've drawn her, and I hope you like it. By the way, her hair is black and her sclera (White part of the eye) is silver along with the markings on her costume, like when Marinette was transformed into Lady Noir, although I headcanon that her markings were blue.

Anyway, I have no idea what I’ll be uploading next. If anyone has any suggestions of what I can write about I’m all ears. But I hope you’ll enjoy it and have a nice day.

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