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chronicallylatetotheparty · 3 years

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Float Like A Butterfly... Chapter 5: So Last Season

Summary: Now that Adrien is no longer Chat Noir he doesn't have to get hit all the time. Unfortunately, his luck doesn't seem to have gotten the memo... Or has it?

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"So, how're you holding up?"

"Please, Adrien, it's my mother! I'm positively ecstatic!"

"Exactly. It's your mother."

Chloe looked down for a second before her eyes snapped back up, any doubts she had hidden in an instant. "She's finally coming back! I'll finally be able to show her what she's been missing." Chloe tossed her ponytail back to emphasize the unspoken Me. "Now, I've gotta go. Sabrina insisted we do an 'emotional support routine' or whatever beforehand. Ciao!"

Sighing, Adrien stared at his phone for a moment before putting it down. He knew Chloe was grateful for Sabrina's help but it was still a struggle getting her to admit it.

Or getting her to admit how much Audrey had hurt her.

It was one thing to travel halfway around the world for your career and leave your daughter behind. It was something else entirely to completely ignore her. In all the years since Audrey left Chloe hadn't received a single birthday gift, phone call or text message. Adrien would know. Chloe would've bragged about it endlessly if her mother had taken so much as two seconds to acknowledged her existence-

Adrien's foot jerked, striking the vanity table and making the connected mirror tremble. Heart suddenly pounding against his chest as tension built up in his forehead. Distressed expression reflecting back at him.

Breathe, Adrien. Breathe.

Slowly, he inhaled.

Then exhaled.

Again.

Good.

He was okay.

Adrien was okay.

Guilt pricked like a thorn for thinking of his own problems when Chloe needed him. Adrien crushed it with his anger and annoyance but it was still there. Like a splinter that wouldn't come out.

I hate you.

Swiping out of the video chat Adrien tapped on Nino's number. It rang... and rang... and rang...

He's annoyed with me. I did something wrong again and Nino doesn't want to-

Adrien smacked both sides of his face. No, dummy! Nino's just busy or something. Stop that!

It wasn't every day a teenage DJ provided the music for Paris Fashion Week, after all. Nino had to make sure all his equipment was working properly.

The door to his dressing room burst open.

"Adrien, your friend Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be bringing the last article of the new Gabriel line," Nathalie announced. "Your father expects everything to be perfect for Audrey Bourgeois."

"Doesn't he always?" Adrien deadpanned.

Nathalie stared at his watery eyes before typing something into her tablet. "Your performance on catwalks only has a 99% success rate. He expects you'll do better."

Father thinks you're a failure just like everyone else. He-

Shut up! Adrien felt something heavy settle in his chest.

One of the makeup artists came rushing in and Nathalie gestured her towards Adrien. "Touch up his eyes," she instructed and then left.

Jaw clenching, Adrien sat perfectly still as the makeup artist did her job. He was never entirely sure what the staff thought about him. 'Professional' was a word that was tossed around a lot. That used to fill him with a little pride... Before all of this.

The last person to suggest that a thirteen year old mourning his mother wasn't 'professional' so much as he was 'depressed' had never come back to work... Oh. Adrien had forgotten about that.

Finishing quickly, the makeup artist left too. Leaving Adrien with his thoughts. He didn't want to be with his thoughts at the moment. They were distracting and Nathalie had not been subtle.

I hate-

His phone vibrated as it received someone's text.

Ni-Non: hey dude!

Ni-Non: it's crazy over here man

Ni-Non: break a leg! ;)

Adrien smiled as his unpleasant mood faded to the back of his mind... And if he saw similarities between his family and Chloe's, well, that's why he could empathize with her.

Adrien: That's theater but I guess there's not much difference.

Adrien: Thanks. ^_^

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

There was a knock at his door. Adrien stopped fidgeting in the awkward suit to go answer it.

"Hello, Marinette." Adrien smiled in greeting.

"Oh, uh, hello!" Marinette gave a small wave as she stepped up the short stairs and-

Adrien braced himself with one foot while his hands went to her shoulders. Steadying Marinette as she quickly removed her weight from him.

"Oh! Uh, sorry." Marinette looked away in embarrassment at having tripped into him.

"... No worries!" Adrien smiled as he shook his head. Marinette seemed... subdued. Reaching down to pick up the hat that had fallen. "Oh, no." The artificial feather Marinette made for his allergies had come loose. "I hope it's not too hard to fix it."

Marinette looked down. "Uh, y'know, it doesn't really matter. This hat is a complete failure anyway."

"What? No, it's not!" Adrien rose to his feet quickly in shock. "Why would you say that?"

"Because... the queen of fashion, Audrey Bourgeois, saw it and hated it!" Marinette's hands covered her face, voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I really messed up. I'm a total no talent!" Her arms wrapped around herself in a hug. "Please, don't put it on," she pleaded.

Adrien's heart went out to Marinette as she laid her insecurities bare. "Marinette, everything's going to be fine." He searched for the proper spot to reattach the feather, fiddling with it as Adrien reassured her. "Your hat looks great. I think it's awesome and so does... my father." Adrien cleared his throat as he managed to fix her hat. "Otherwise he wouldn't have picked it for me. Look!"

Putting Marinette's hat on Adrien walked across the dressing room like he was already performing. Striking a few poses to ease Marinette's anxiety. "See?"

It seemed to work as Marinette gave a small smile. "You got that catwalk down," she complimented.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Really? Thank you."

"Ah-hem," Nathalie cleared her throat. "We have to go." Without waiting for Marinette she turned on her heel and started walking towards the viewing area.

Adrien rolled his eyes but smiled at Marinette's back as she hurried to catch up. Turning back to look at himself in the mirror Adrien scanned his outfit. The suit may have been generic and a few seams too close to last year's entry but Marinette's hat was fire.

"Okay!" Adrien was gonna go out there and make sure they recognized Marinette's talent!

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

Holding Marinette's hat to his chest Adrien stuck his head out in a decidedly 'unprofessional' manner. Spotting Marinette's family and a bunch of his friends in the first row. Adrien's blond head caught Nino's eye from across the catwalk and he gave him a thumbs up.

Adrien waved as he ducked back behind the corner before the photographers could take any pictures of the Agreste heir acting like a kid.

You got this, Adrien. Nino's DJ-ing, your classmates came -even though most of them don't care about fashion- with any luck Alix and Kim will tease you about it for the next month.

That would give Adrien the opportunity to dish out a bunch of jokes he never got the chance to use!

The music started; that was his cue.

You got this!

Adrien posed on the runway. Camera flashes already starting. Strutting down the catwalk Adrien smirked at Marinette. See? Stopping at the platform's end he posed in various angles for the photographers. Nino seemed to be enjoying himself too and that made Adrien's smile come much more naturally.

A small eruption boomed behind him and Adrien turned to see Hawkmoth's latest fashion disaster. Gasping, as his heart started hammering in his chest.

"A fashion show without the Queen of Style!? Glitter-ally unacceptable!" The akuma villain announced. "Where's that ungrateful Gabriel Agreste. I demand that he kneels before me!"

Ugh, what has he done now?

"My father isn't here," Adrien snapped in annoyance. Hearing people running for the exits.

"Well, then. If fashion disaster daddy isn't here I'll just have to settle for Agreste Junior! You're fired!"

Adrien's eyes widened as he stepped back. Golden glitter exploding everywhere as his body became numb and his senses dark-

-Glowing ladybugs swirled around him as Adrien had the disorienting feeling of laying down when he could've sworn he'd been standing. Glancing around, Adrien realized he was now at the Eiffel Tower.

"Adrik- Adrien!" Chloe tackled him as he stood, throwing her arms around him. "I was so scared!"

Adrien blinked in surprise as Chloe set her head on his shoulder. Not letting him go... Adrien smiled as he hugged her back. Enjoying this genuine display of affection.

"Pound it!"

Head snapping towards the sound Adrien saw another Black Cat, this one a girl with long, reddish hair, fist bump Ladybug. They grinned at each other in post battle relief.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

A chill to rival Frozer's ice covered Adrien from head to toe. It was one thing to see Ladybug working with a different Black Cat on the news. Quite another to have his replacement. Three. Frickin. Meters. In front of him!

Chloe didn't notice... Or rather Adrien didn't notice when she'd let go to help her mother. Who tried to fire her own daughter as thanks.

Adrien jerked his eyes away from the superhero duo-

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

-Away from the Miraculous holders and forced himself to listen to whatever the Bourgeois were saying. Ears ringing as Ladybug and the Black Cat talked about something behind him...

"Oh, mom. If only you knew what a great team we made!" Chloe trailed after her mother as they walked down the tower's stairs; attempting to capture her attention. "We fired a bunch of incompetents. It was awesome. We should really spend more time together! What if I went back to New York with you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Casserole- Eh, Chloe!" Audrey dismissed. "First I have to get back to Gabriel Agreste's fashion show. And they better..."

Adrien's eyes narrowed as he looked down from the railing, his grip on it tightening. Heat from a growing indignation melting the ice he felt. What did she just call Chloe?

"Adrien Agreste, right? I can give you a lift back if you want."

His tensed body jerked in surprise as Adrien realized Ladybug was standing right behind him. Throat and chest constricting as his thoughts whirled. Spots darkened his vision as he felt lightheaded. Adrien's knuckles becoming white, the metal railing digging into his skin. A single thought rose above the ringing in his ears.

I don't wanna talk to her.

Giving his best model smile, Adrien schooled his features. "Ah, thanks but-" he pointed down, "-I should really check on them."

"O-oh! Of course!"

Ladybug's face was out of focus but Adrien could still feel the melancholy in her voice.

Powering past his queasy stomach Adrien made his way to the stairs. The sound of Ladybug's yo-yo whirring reached his ears; signaling her departure. Adrien took a shuddering gasp as he leaned against a metal pillar for support. Body suddenly limp.

Breath accelerating Adrien tried to calm himself. Why was he up here? Had- Had Audrey's blast mind controlled him? Again!? He couldn't breathe.

Adrien sank to his knees as he felt his skin crawl at the idea of that- that- asshole reaching into his mind and taking away his free will. He hated it! He HATED it!

Gasping as his rage broke him out of the panic, Adrien steadied his breathing... He wanted- no, needed to know what happened... Which meant getting up and moving forward... Forcing himself to his feet Adrien wiped the sweat from his brow and followed the others down.

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"Remind me to tell your father to fire the person in charge of the Eiffel Tower elevators..." Audrie panted. "This is... unacceptable... utterly unacceptable!"

"Of course, mom. Oh!" Chloe glanced down to see what she'd stumbled on.

Adrien looked up as he fanned himself with Marinette's hat.

And dropped it.

He stared open mouthed at the small, black, octagonal box in Chloe's hands. Heartbeat leaping into his throat.

What the hell is THAT doing here!?

"Ooh! What's this?" Chloe turned the box around in her hands but didn't open it.

Adrien suddenly forgot his exhaustion and rushed to her side. The lie coming easily to his lips. "Oh, I recognize that! They sell them at antique shops."

"Ew, it's old! Get it away from me!" Chloe practically hurled it at Adrien.

Catching it easily. A thrill ran up Adrien's arms and down his spine as the box made contact with his skin. The hairs at the back of his neck standing on end.

Chloe dusted her hands and kept walking. Glancing nervously at her mother. Hoping Audrey hadn't seen her with something so outdated.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! The voice in his head said.

Shut up, Adrien told it as he stared at the unknown Miraculous in his hand. Heartbeat hammering in his chest. But it wasn't from fear. No, it was... anticipation.

The corners of Adrien's lips curled upwards.

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Notes: Oh, would you look at that. I'm back! It only took... eight months!

#style queen #ml au #adrien angst #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #audrey bourgeois #ml fanfic #ml angst #canon divergent au #canon divergence

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livia-dovehallow · 3 years

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all I need - Wessa/Gabrily

some basic fluff for all my kind anons who have wondered where I disappeared to <3

Ship: Wessa, Gabrily

Characters: Will Herondale, Tessa Gray-Herondale, Cecily Herondale-Lightwood, Gabriel Lightwood, Jessamine Lovelace, Anna Lightwood, James Herondale, Lucie Herondale, Christopher Lightwood

Time: November 1887 || London

“Will.”

Will Herondale woke slightly, one eye lazily gazing around the room. When he saw no one but Tessa sound asleep beside him, he closed his eyes again.

“Will.”

He did not stir.

“William Herondale!”

Will started and shot up. Tessa did not move beside him. He was grateful he had gone to bed fully clothed that evening, for the ghost of Jessamine Lovelace hovered at the foot of his bed with an annoyed expression. “What on earth are you doing in my bedroom, Jessamine?” Will asked in an irritated voice.

She did not react to his fatigued-state of annoyance. “It concerns the children, Will. Would you rather I not disturb you?”

This brought Will to full alertness. “The children?” he asked, suddenly serious. “What about the children?”

Jessamine gestured to the large window in the room. “It’s terribly freezing outside and it has started to lower the temperature inside the Institute. The children have started to shiver.”

Will was out of bed in seconds, scrambling to put his robe and shoes on. “Tessa,” he said urgently. She groaned but did not wake. “Tessa, love, wake up. It’s Jamie and Lucie.”

Tessa sat up and swung her legs out of bed. She began reaching for her own robe. “What? What’s happened?”

Will breathed and grew more urgent at the sight of his own breath in the chill air. “Jessamine’s warned me of a cold-front outside. The children are starting to freeze. We need to bring them to the family room fire. And wake my sister as well.”

Down the hall, Cecily slept uncomfortably. Something had nagged her the night before as she tried to sleep. A sense of worry and urgency she could not put her finger on. She’d ventured out of bed several times to check on her children only to find them safe and sound in their nursery, peacefully asleep. It was only after the fourth time that Gabriel all but commanded her to stay in bed and had locked her in with his arms.

This didn’t ease her mind. Her sleep was fitful while Gabriel snored quietly beside her. Cecily tried to sleep to the sound of his heart beating in his chest as it had always comforted her when she could not sleep, but it was useless. She’d gotten a cumulative two hours of sleep when she heard a door slam open elsewhere in the Institute.

“Gabriel,” she said, shaking him by his shoulder. He hummed in response. “Gabriel, I think something’s happened.”

“What—” he began in his fatigued state, but was interrupted by urgent knocking on their bedroom door.

“Cecy!” It was Will. “Come quickly. The Institute is freezing and Jessamine’s warned me of the children.”

Gabriel was awake now, following Cecily out of bed and hurrying to dress. She could feel the chill air across her skin. Of course, her and Gabriel could wear runes to keep them warm, but their children were much too small to be given runes. “I told you something was wrong,” she said to her husband. She looked at him, worry growing in her chest.

He looked back at her with an expression that Cecily had come to call his “Family Face,” an expression of worry, protectiveness, and affection in one that he saved for her and their children only. “Mother’s intuition is a frightening power,” he said simply before rushing across the room to take her hand and hurry out of their bedroom.

Thankfully, Cecily had chosen to keep their nursery close by. Only a couple doors down on the opposite side of the corridor was where Anna and Christopher slept. Gabriel, with his longer legs and stride, got to the nursery first and threw open the door. In the nursery was an even more frigid air, sending shivers through Cecily’s body. Without needing to speak, her and Gabriel split. She went to Christopher, who was only just under two months old, and lifted him from his cradle. Across the room, Gabriel went to Anna and lifted her from her children’s bed, gathering the blankets as he went.

In Cecily’s arms, little Kit was breathing fast, his lips pale. Her heart jumped in her chest while she fret over him, gathering every coat and blanket she could find in arm’s reach. “I’ve got you, my sweet boy,” she said to Christopher, whose small head lay against her chest.

“Anna is all right,” Gabriel said at her side. She glanced up to find their daughter bundled up in layers of blankets in his arms, doubling her small size. “I’ve just seen Will and Tessa take James and Lucie toward the family room. I suppose that’s where they’ve built the fire.”

Cecily nodded and followed him out of the nursery toward the family room.

In the nook of the family room, where the largest fireplace in the Institute lay, Will organized the furniture and pillows in a fashion that allowed for the family to sit near the fire comfortably. James had been awake when Will went to him, seconds from crying, and little Lucie was shivering terribly.

“Here,” Will said gently to Tessa, who held both children in her arms as he built the fire. “Bring them closer. Has Lulu stopped shivering?”

Tessa looked down. They’d wrapped Lucie in several layers to the point where her small face was all you could see. James had even given her his favorite spoon, believing somehow it would keep her warm. “I think so,” Tessa answered. “But she’s still quite cold, I’d bet. She’s so small.”

Will nodded and added more kindling to the fire before returning to his family. He sat beside them near the fire and lifted James from Tessa’s lap into his own. “Are you cold?” he asked her again, after several failed attempts at receiving an answer prior. He’d been able to place a warming rune to himself in order to pass body heat to his son, but Tessa could not bear runes.

“I am fine,” she answered, her attention still on Lucie. “James and Lucie are more important.”

Will opened his mouth to argue that she was important, too, when his sister and her family came hurrying into the room. Cecily had Christopher cradled to her chest while Gabriel had Anna in what looked like the most massive child-burrito he’d ever seen. He met his sister’s eyes. “Are Jamie and Luce all right?” she asked him.

Will nodded. “They’re all right,” he assured her. “Lucie was a bit worse off than Jamie, but she’s is doing better now with the fire.” He shot his brother-in-law an amused glance. “I take it Anna is warm as a snug bun.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “I panicked, okay?”

Cecily stepped forward and lowered herself near the fire. “Christopher was shivering as well,” she said, peering through the bundled blankets in her grasp. “I am sure it is just because he is still a baby, like Lucie.”

Tessa breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness they’re all okay,” she said and her shoulders visibly relaxed. “I was so worried about them all.”

Will adjusted his son in his lap and glanced about the room. He still hadn’t gotten used to seeing their little family surrounded by little ones, despite the fact that Anna had just turned three. Seeing his little sister with a toddler and an infant with Gabriel reminded him of just how far they had come. Truthfully, he never thought he’d have the opportunity to be an uncle, let alone a father. And now he was both.

“Will,” Tessa whispered. “Will you give Jamie one of the smaller pillows? He struggles to sleep well if he isn’t holding something.”

Will grabbed one of the smaller sofa decorative pillows and carefully tucked it into his son’s arms. James immediately hugged it close and relaxed in his father’s arms, his head neatly tucked into the crook between Will’s neck and shoulder. “We’re going to be here a while,” he replied to his wife. “Get some sleep, Tess. We’ll take turns watching the children.”

He did not have to tell her twice. Tessa dropped her head on his other shoulder and closed her eyes.

Across the room, Cecily made herself comfortable in Gabriel’s embrace, with Christopher still carefully tucked in her arms and Anna sleeping away on Gabriel’s other shoulder.

Gabriel pressed his back against the solid oak table behind him. He tested it for strength before leaning fully against it in preparation for bundling up his family. His stele lay beside him, freshly used to apply warmth runes on himself and Cecily, hoping their own body heat could help keep their children warm through the night. “Are you sure?” Cecily asked, uncertain. “It doesn’t look stable or comfortable.”

“I don’t mind it,” he answered. The leg of the table did dig into his back a small bit, but it was a small price to pay for his family. He adjusted Anna so she was lower on his chest, enough to sit in his lap with her head still supported, and then turned to his wife with a cheeky smile. “C’mere,” he said with a gesture of his remaining free arm. “I’ll keep you warm.”

Cecily laughed and did as told, shifting her way between his legs to rest her back against the right side of his chest beside their daughter. His arm came down and wrapped around her tight, his forearm helping support Christopher’s weight. “I can handle holding a baby, bach,” she said with amusement.

“He is my son, too,” Gabriel retorted. “Am I not allowed to partially carry my son?”

He could feel Cecily roll her eyes but their banter was always affectionate. He knew that she knew he would always put them first. “I love you, too,” she chided before she leaned down to press a gentle kiss on Kit’s head. Then, she turned to face Anna, whose small nose was only a short distance from her own, and softly kissed her chubby cheek.

“Have I told you before that you are a fantastic mother?” Gabriel wondered aloud. Cecily craned her neck up to smile at him. “Truly, you are a natural.”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” she answered in feign modesty.

Gabriel quickly planted a kiss on her forehead. “There is no way I could have done this without you,” he added. “I would have made a terrible father if it weren’t you at my side.”

“I told you to stop saying that,” she scolded and returned to her relaxation against his chest with her eyes closed. “And besides, of course you couldn’t do this without me. You cannot physically bear children, Gabriel.”

“Well, there is that.”

He felt her slip her small hand into his and give a soft squeeze. “Forever and always,” she whispered, her voice laced with growing fatigue.

“Sleep,” he told her gently. “I’ll be here.”

She was snoring seconds later.

“Will,” Cecily said suddenly, alarmed. “Are you crying?”

He sniffed loudly and denied everything. “There is just something in my eye.”

Cecily rolled her eyes. “Yes, they’re called tears. Why do you look so somber? Are you not happy to have a niece?”

“Of course I’m happy,” Will answered immediately. He was gazing at her intently, amazed how much she looked like Cecily already and she was only hours old. “I’m thrilled. She’s perfect.”

“Then why do you look that way?”

Will smiled ruefully and let out a puff of air that only sounded vaguely like a laugh. “Because I never imagined I would ever get to be here, holding her.”

Cecily sat up in her bed beside him. “Whatever do you mean? Did you not think I would ever marry? Really, Will, I’m quite a catch.”

Will laughed, heartily this time. “That is not what I meant,” he answered. He looked up at his sister. “I just didn’t think I’d get to be an uncle. When I thought I’d never see you again.”

Cecily’s eyes softened. “You still would have been an uncle,” she said quietly. “You’re my brother. That makes you an uncle to any children I have.”

“You know what I meant, Cecy,” he said. He bounced his niece in his arms but his gaze remained with Cecily. “A real uncle. A present figure in their lives and not some abstract name or picture on the wall.”

Cecily’s face suddenly hardened. “Do you think Ella is just some abstract name or picture on the wall?”

Will’s heart stopped. “No. That is not at all what I think.”

“That is what you said.”

Will blinked at his little sister. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to say Ella isn’t Anna’s aunt.”

Cecily sighed and adjusted the blankets over her legs. “What matters is that you are here, Will,” she said quietly. “You are here and you are an uncle.”

“You’re right,” Will answered, looking back down at Anna asleep.

Anna woke up fussy.

From what Gabriel could tell, it was nearing three in the morning. For a grown Shadowhunter, three in the morning was not an unusual time to be awake. Gabriel had been on patrol plenty of nights into the early hours of the morning without any problem; but now, a father, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

That is, until Anna stirred against his shoulder and began to fuss about being cold and then fuss about not being in her own bed. Gone were the days that Anna preferred to sleep in his arms, Gabriel sighed internally. “Snuggle in close,” he told her in a whisper. “I’ll keep you warm. I promise.”

“Okay, Papa,” Anna yawned before she lay her head back down on his chest, calm once more, and dozed off back to peaceful sleep.

Will chuckled at him across the room. Will had his own herd of children in his grasp, like Gabriel. Tessa sat across him, her legs thrown over his lap, while little Lucie lay asleep on her mother’s chest. James sat sideways in his father’s lap, facing his mother, his head nodded off on Will’s shoulder, their identical black curls side by side. “Your arm lost feeling yet?” Will asked.

“I lost feeling in all my extremities long ago,” Gabriel lamented.

Will smiled knowingly. “So have I,” he offered. “The things we do for them.”

Gabriel laughed. “Truly, Will, I never thought either of us would end up here. We got lucky.” He looked down at the three people who had bundled up to him for warmth and comfort. “We have our entire worlds sitting in our arms.”

Silence fell between them but it was not uneasy. Both of them were gazing at their little families, sleeping away the cold in their comfort. “I hate to admit it,” Will said, breaking the silence. “But I think you’re a pretty decent father, Lightwood.”

Gabriel shook his head, amused. “I’m glad you think so,” he retorted. “My biggest critic thinking I’m a good father is the best compliment.”

“I only criticize for my sister’s sake,” Will offered.

Cecily stirred in Gabriel’s arms, shifting his attention to her instead of his brother. “Leave him alone, Will,” she slurred, waking up slowly. “We’ve been married for five years.”

“Did we wake you?” Gabriel asked, concerned. There were bags beneath her eyes, yet he could not decide if they were from the cold-stricken sleep or from having two young children. If it was the latter, Gabriel did not want to know what his own eyes looked like.

“No,” Cecily answered. She sat up from his chest and shifted little Christopher onto her lap. She shook out her arms in a deep, long stretch. “It’s time to feed Kit. I work on a mother’s clock now, you know.”

There will possibly be a part two. Maybe. We’ll see. Enjoy! || @tsccreatorsnet

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akalei · 3 years

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Today’s The Day

I’m not dead and neither is this AU! Thank you all so much for the love and as always I hope you enjoy and please feel free to send me asks for more info :)

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Today was THE day and Marinette was a complete mess. She barely slept but still managed to miss her alarm. While getting dressed she not only banged her knee on her desk but also fell down the stairs.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was a complete and utter mess and she was only a bystander.

“Marinette, why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast?” her mother asked, looking at her daughter, concerned as she got up from the ground.

Marinette bit her lip as she glanced over at the empty bowl and plate of croissants on the table, “I don’t know Mom,” she placed a hand on her stomach already filled with knots, “I’m too nervous to eat.”

Sabine shook her head, “I know you’re worried about Adrien but there’s nothing more you can do to help him,” she reached out and kissed Marinette’s forehead, “just have faith and eat.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, it wasn’t like she didn’t have faith in Adrien or his Justice League approved lawyers, she just doesn’t trust Gabriel Agreste to keep things lawful.

Thankfully she was interrupted by a knock on the door, “sit down Sweetheart, I’ll get it,” her mother said as she lightly patted Marinette on the shoulder. Marinette did as she was told but didn’t touch the croissants.

“Marinette, Sweetheart it’s your friends from your club!” Sabine called out. Confused Marinette turned around to face the entryway to see Dick, M’gann, and Connor in her house.

“Today’s the day,” Dick said with a smile, “are you ready?”

All Marinette could do was just stare at him, it even took her a minute to realize her mouth was open, “what are you guys doing here?”

“We came because we were worried about you,” a voice said, belonging to a young man with forest green eyes who was standing apart from the rest of her friends.

“D-Damien?” Marinette squeaked, surprised to see him here. The boy didn’t give more than a shrug in response, his attention on anywhere but her.

“Are you done with breakfast Mari?” M’gann asked glancing at her empty plate, “because all of us were planning on watching the broadcast together in our hotel room,”

Marinette was still in shock, unable to form a complete sentence. Why in the world would they be here? It wasn’t their problem-

“We came because we’re friends,” Marinette glanced over at Connor, who always seemed to answer her unsaid questions, “we wanted to support you, both of you.”

Marinette felt the tension leave her shoulders, and she smiled, “Thank you,” she stood up and tugged her bag over her shoulder, ready to go, “I mean it.”

* * *

Marinette was overwhelmed, first by the size of Dick’s hotel room, and then by how many of her friends came to show their support. Perhaps she and Adrien weren’t as much of outsiders as they believed they were in the Justice League.

As soon as the broadcast started Marinette had plopped herself on the edge of one of the seats within the hotel room. She sat tall and rigid, her nerves as clear as day to Damien who had settled in the seat next to her. Damien didn’t pay much attention to the TV screen, his eyes trained on Marinette and her ever-changing expressions. As the court case progressed, Marinette’s knee bounced in anticipation and she gnawed on her lower lip with nerves. Caught between concern and annoyance Damien placed his hand on her knee to cease its bouncing.

Surprised, Marinette tore her gaze away from the screen to look at him. Her face red with embarrassment, “Sorry,” she apologized, her lower lip still caught under her teeth.

Damien grunted in response and left his land resting on top of her knee, keeping it from bouncing. Marinette quirked an eyebrow, unsure whether or not he was annoyed with her or just concerned in his own way. Soon the court broke for recess and the live broadcast switched to commercials. Without uttering a word, Damien pulled Marinette up by the hand and led them outside of the hotel room.

“What’re you-?” Marinette started to ask but trailed off as Damien stopped in front of a vending machine. He angrily fed it some euros and punched buttons, after, the machine spat out a bag of chips.

“Here, I know you haven’t had anything to eat,” he thrust the bag of chips out to her, “and you’re beginning to stress me out.”

Marinette gently took the bag from him, “sorry and thank you,” she smiled at him.

Damien wouldn’t meet her eyes, “no problem,” he leaned back against the vending machine, “anyways who is this guy to make you this worried?” he looked back at her almost reluctantly, “is he your boyfriend?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she let out a small laugh, “no, no we’re not dating,” she paused to figure out how to phrase their relationship, “he’s my partner, my person.” She opened the bag of chips and popped one into her mouth, “We met when we were 13 as civilians and had no idea that we were partners,”

Damien’s brow furrowed, “what do you mean you didn’t know?”

Marinette smiled, “just that, our master told us that we could never reveal our identities. That we could never trust anyone with that secret,” she shrugged, “and at the time we were so overwhelmed with everything going on we didn’t second guess the rule.”

“Sometimes it’s easier not to trust others,” Damien said crossing his arms across his chest, “you’re safer only trusting yourself.”

Marinette shook her head, “I disagree, when your fighting to protect others and risking your life,” she paused to catch Damien’s eye, “you don’t want to be alone, you want to have others supporting you and you have to be able to trust that they’ll have your back. And if that isn’t an option, you have to trust that they’ll make sure everyone else survives.”

There was a gravity to Marinette’s words that Damien wasn’t expecting. He knew that she was a hero, like his father, his brothers, like everyone in that hotel room but he didn’t realize how serious she was. She wasn’t a hero because it looked cool, she was a hero because she wanted to protect everyone even at the cost of her life. Uncomfortable with the sudden realization he changed the topic, “back to Adrien, how did the two of you go from not knowing anything to becoming partners that you’d risk everything for?”

Marinette huffed out a laugh, “we had to grow up,” she popped another chip into her mouth, “we learned what being Miraculous holders meant, that we were cosmically linked and the responsibility that we have to bear forced us to reevaluate what was important to us. And after what happened with the invasion, Adrien and I were done with secrets. If we were to be heroes we were going to do it our way, on our terms.”

“So what happened to land the two of you in this situation?” Damien asked, “I know bits and pieces from Tim and Dick but-” he trailed off.

Marinette folded her half-empty chip bag, “well, it’s a bit complicated. Adrien’s home situation was never the same after his mom died. His father pulled away from the public eye and Adrien was completely isolated in his own home. He was only allowed to go to school after some major convincing from our friend Chloe Bourgeois who is also the mayor’s daughter. And even then if he didn’t live up to his father’s expectations he was immediately confined back home. Long story short he was being abused and thought it was normal,” Marinette looked up from the chip bag, “and then we found out that his father is Hawkmoth,”

Damien’s eyes widened.

“So to the public today is all about exposing Gabriel Agreste’s shitty parenting but for the League, the Team, for me it’s about ensuring that he’s safe.”

Damien nodded, not knowing what else to say.

Marinette just smiled as if sensing his unease, “We should get back, don’t want to miss the verdict.”

Damien followed Marinette back to the hotel room. He watched her stare at the screen, hands wrinkling the chip bag. But his mind was elsewhere, when he first met the girl he thought he had her all figured out. It was in his training to observe and read people, to determine if they were threats or not. And Marinette seemed like an idealistic hero, just like the other kids he met through his father and brothers. Sidekicks who were training to be heroes because of a dream or because they somehow obtained powers. Kids who didn’t know the harsh reality of the world they live in, the reality that Damien had been trained and prepared for since his birth. He thought Marinette was one of those sidekicks, perhaps a little less idiotic but she was so kindhearted, so idealistic. But he was wrong, about many things. About Marinette’s strength, the reason why she’s a hero, and about her partner. Damien didn’t want to admit it but the little rich boy he had written off as a joke, as a poor excuse of a hero was actually a lot like him.

“It’s over!” Marinette shouted and startled Damien. He looked up at the television screen to see Adrien with a look of relief on his face, and a scowl on Gabriel Agreste’s. The entire room erupted into a ruckus and suddenly, Marinette pressed a kiss against Damien’s cheek. Shocked, Damien lifted a hand, and lightly brushed his fingers against his cheek. He looked down to see Marinette with a big grin on her face, wondering what the hell had happened.

“Adrien won, we won!”

#ladybug young justice au #maribat #daminette #lyj

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wormstacheangel · 3 years

Text

December 11, 2021

Hello. Sorry I missed day 10 but I haven’t been sleeping and yesterday was the first day I had more than four hours of sleep! But enjoy day 11! Sorry, I keep forgetting to add the Christmassy stuff but after today it’s full on Christmas all the time lol Enjoy! Catch up on my advent calendar with my masterpost link here

Summary: If you like Gabriel then you’re in luck he stops by for a visit and Cas is sick from the snowball fight from day 9.

Their bedroom was warm from the heater and the scent of vaporub filled the air. Steppenwolf was playing softly from their record player, just enough to be comforting background noise. The curtains were pushed open so Cas could enjoy the view of the cloudy sky while he laid on his stomach.

His eyes shut as he felt Dean’s rough palms massage down his bare back. He melted into the familiar touch as he let Dean fuss over him again.

“Is this okay?” He heard from behind him and Cas only hummed a noise in approval. “Kept rolling you to your side last night cause your damn snoring got so loud that Miracle started barking at our door.”

Cas raised his eyebrows at that because he doesn’t even remember that. The cold medicine he has been taking really knocks him out. He can barely keep his eyes open minutes after taking it.

Even right now while he had Dean’s weight on him, ‘Cause how else will I message you if I’m not straddling you, Cas.’, He could easily just pass out. Feeling Dean’s lips right between his shoulder blades made him feel so alive and warm. He was so comfortable that maybe he will just go back to sleep for a little-

“What’s the emergency?!” They heard a panic voice before a chuckle then a whistle. “Wow, what are you two doing?”

They heard the unexpected loud voice that made Dean fall off the bed but quickly scramble to cover himself in a blanket. Cas sat up and even in his dazed phase he threw the angel blade that pierced through Gabriel’s chest.

“Ow.” Gabriel said as he pulled the blade out while Cas relaxed back into the bed. “Well what a nice welcome.”

“Gabriel?” Dean shuffles to his feet as he wraps the blanket around his shoulders. “Get the fuck out of our room!”

Cas groaned as he hid his face back on his pillow but couldn’t really relax without feeling the blade right under it so he held his hand out. Dean took it hesitantly but Cas slapped it away as he mumbled, “Give me my blade back.”

“Oh.” Dean said sadly but Cas turned to look at him. Puckering his lips to ask for a kiss only to get Dean shoving his face in the pillow. “Go to sleep, asshole.”

Gabriel walked over to them and sat by Cas’s feet. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m sick.”

Gabriel laughed, slapping Cas’s back a little too hard that Cas jumped up in pain. “Oops. Forgot you’re a big softie now.”

“I’m sure that would have hurt even if I had my grace.” Cas said as Dean pushes Gabriel away, really he kicks him a few times and motions with his head to move. “Why are you here, Gabriel?”

Dean, still covering himself in his blanket, took Gabriel’s spot while the archangel looked around the room in curiosity.

“What? Can’t I just come down here to visit my baby bro and favorite nephew?” Gabriel reached over to touch the record player but Dean quickly threatened to stab him if he touched it so Gabe dropped his hand with a grin. “Well. If i’m not needed I’m just gonna say a quick hello to tiny Cas before I head back upstairs.”

Cas sat up to narrow his eyes at his brother. “You said there was an emergency.”

“Did I?”

“Yes. When you flew in here.” Cas rolled his eyes while Dean quickly draped his blanket over Cas’s shoulders.

“Dude, just tell us why you’re here so we can move on.” Dean says as he stands up, wearing nothing but his scooby snack underwear and an old t-shirt, to walk to his drawer for some sweatpants. Mumbling something about angel warding the bedroom.

Gabriel clicked his tongue as he started walking out the bedroom door. “I don’t want to get the kid in trouble-”

“Jack called on you?” Cas asked, his tone switching from annoyance to concern as he stood up to follow after Gabriel. “Why? Is he okay? Is he not in his room?”

Gabriel opened the door and there stood a sheepish Jack with Miracle sitting besides him, hanging her head as she whined.

“Kid, wanna explain yourself?” Gabriel motioned for him to come in just as Cas had a small coughing fit.

“That!” Jack motioned at Cas as he looked back at Gabriel. “He’s been sick for so long!”

“It’s been almost two days.” Dean corrects him as he walks to stand by Gabriel, arms crossed in concern. “It’s normal, Jack.”

“But you said it sounded like he was miserable and I just-” Jack sighed letting his shoulders hunch forward. “I didn’t want him to be sad when he’s been so happy lately. I mean...what’s the point of having our family if we can’t ask them for help?”

“Kids got a point.” Gabriel nudges Dean who looks down at his underwear. “Wow twinsies I have the same pair. Looks better on me though.”

Dean rolled his eyes at him before giving Jack his attention. “Jack, humans get sick. That’s just a part of life.”

“Humans get sick and die. I’m not ready to lose…” Cas had another coughing fit as he sat back down on the bed, reaching to drink the water on the nightstand. Jack’s eyes wandered to Cas as he quietly said, “I don’t want to lose Dad again.”

“Jack,” Cas’s rough voice made them all look up at him. Cas motioned for Jack to walk over to him. He didn’t start talking until Jack was standing in front of him. “I’m not dying. Not anytime soon at least.”

Gabriel shrugged at that and Dean punched his arm, only really hurting himself but it was the sentiment that counts.

“My fever is down,” Cas smiled reassuringly at him. “Thank you for bringing me my medicine and tea these last few days. I’m feeling so much better now.”

“You do?”

Cas nodded at him as he reached to grab Jack’s arm. “I am. So don’t worry so much. I’ll be better by tomorrow so we can go see those Christmas lights you wanted.”

“Can’t Uncle Gabe just-” Jack motioned towards Gabriel again but Cas was already shaking his head. “I don’t get why you can’t accept his help.”

“I want to experience being human and being sick is part of it.”

“But you hate it. I hated it when I was sick.”

“It’s the worst but it’s part of the journey.” Cas winked at him and then shoved Jack towards Gabriel. “Now go apologize to your Uncle for worrying him and invite him to Christmas.”

Gabriel promised to stop by for their Christmas. He then took Jack to buy him some late dinner while Dean stayed behind to climb back on their bed. Pulling Cas close to his chest and squeezing him.

“Maybe we should let Gabe heal you.” Dean suggested as Cas coughed into his hand before groaning out in pain.

“Fuck, yes. I already prayed to him to come back and heal me after Jack goes to bed.” Cas looked up at his boyfriend. “I can’t handle this another day, Dean. I can’t even smell you and you’re right here! It’s torture.”

“Not smelling me?” Dean grinned down at him with raised eyebrows.

“Have you smelled yourself? It’s intoxicating.”

Tag List: (ask to be added or removed)

@galaxycastiel @superduckbatrebel @slipper007 @wikiangela @s-r-clowns

@ar-bi-trary @winchestcas @imlivingliferightnow @thefaeriemagic3 @bi-bi-marie @nguyenxtrang @dancerdovegirl @chocolatecakecas @trasherasswood @celestialcastiel @castiel-is-a-cat @theghostofchristmasfuture

#Destiel #Deancas #Supernatural #SPN #A More Profound OTP #My Writing #destiel advent calendar #spnadventcalendar #dadstiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic

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roseinaugust · 3 years

Text

Like an Old Enemy

Chapter Seven: Meet Me At Our Spot

Summary: Miraculous Enemies AU. Gabriel Agreste has the Black Cat Miraculous in his possession, so when his wife, Emilie, "disappears," he sends his son, Adrien, undercover to pose as Ladybug's partner. Two years later, the once famous duo are sworn enemies. Marinette might have loved Chat Noir once, but now she would stop at nothing to defeat him. Adrien will do whatever it takes to bring his mother back. Best friends in their civilian lives, Adrien and Marinette find obstacles and complications when they can no longer deny their love for each other. But will they be able to understand and forgive the mistakes of their past? Or will they be doomed to end as bitter rivals a second time?

Rated: T

Pairings: Ladybug/Chat Noir Enemies, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Mutual Pining

Word Count: 9,027

Read on: ao3

A/N: I am only posting part of this chapter on tumblr so please read the rest on ao3!

“No, Adrien.” Gabriel Agreste said with a note of finality. Adrien’s presence in his office barely disturbed him as he tapped at something on his tablet.

Adrien hadn’t expected his father to agree right away, but the quickness of Gabriel’s refusal made his temper flare. His fingers began to ache as he clenched his hands together behind his back to prevent an outburst. Gabriel couldn’t be bothered to stop working long enough to have a conversation with his son.

Adrien needed to stay focused. He had to be there, he could finally progress with Marinette—although he still didn’t know if it was a date or not. “Father, I understand your concerns,” he didn’t, “but, the entire class is going. It will look suspicious if I am the only one not attending. People are already starting to grow skeptical of how often I miss class, especially after the akuma on the first day of school.” This was a strategy he’d used once before to gain permission to attend Marinette’s birthday party last January.

Adrien knew the best way to convince his father was to target one of the three things that Gabriel believed were important: his mother, control, or the upkeep of public appearances. The first was a nonstarter; any mention of Emilie would result in punishment. The second would only work if Adrien had something to offer his father in return, which he didn’t. The third however was perfect because it threatened the first two. If anyone grew apprehensive of the Agreste family or the Gabriel brand, everything would collapse. They operated precariously, shrouded in the shadow of secrecy, but there was only so much that could be stuffed in a closet or brushed under a rug. Eventually, someone would peak behind the curtain, unless there was no reason for anyone to go searching.

Gabriel’s eyes flickered up to Adrien for the first time during their conversation before returning to his work. “You had a perfectly reasonable excuse to miss class that day for your photoshoot. There is no reason for anyone to suspect that you are Chat Noir.” Adrien pictured the lucky charm in his pocket, a reminder of what he was doing this for.

“It’s not me that they are skeptical of; it’s you.” Gabriel’s focus diverted to Adrien instantly. Although he craved the attention earlier, now Adrien wished his father’s gaze would return to the tablet, or to his designs, or really anywhere that wasn’t him. He squirmed under the scrutiny, fidgeting and taking a step backwards. He could do this, he was going to fight for what he wanted. “Scheduling a photoshoot on the first day of school brought up questions about your parenting. They are concerned that you’re too strict.” His father’s face was unreadable, a neutral landscape with maybe a hint of annoyance, but Adrien knew mines were buried underneath. He needed to tread carefully. “No one believes you are Hawkmoth, but if someone begins to look into our family…” Adrien trailed off at the sight of his father’s hardening face. He gulped. “If you permit me to go tonight, it should be enough to dispel any concerns.”

Gabriel’s brow lowered, his mouth a line of displeasure. He weighed the options before dropping his attention back to the tablet in his hands. “My decision stands. You are not going.”

Adrien dropped his hands from behind his back, unable to restrain himself. “But, wh-why?” He sputtered, incredulous at this refusal. His father ignored him, typical of his dismissals. Adrien was expected to accept the answer and leave, but he stood motionless in the center of the office. He couldn’t accept this, he needed to be at Andre’s tonight. Disbelief mutated into anger. How was he not concerned? Sure, Adrien was exaggerating the severity of his classmate’s suspicions, but how could Gabriel be so blasé? “It’s just ice cream. I’ll be home—”

“No, Adrien.” Gabriel interrupted, refusing to look up at his son. The sucker punch of his father’s stubbornness knocked the wind out of Adrien. Crescent moons imprinted on his palms as he balled his fists by his sides, red-hot anger burning inside him.

“But—” His negotiation attempts were once again cut short.

“No.” Gabriel clipped.

“Why can’t I go with my friends?” The words overflowed before Adrien could stop them. The incessant tapping on the tablet halted at once as Gabriel snapped his focus to his son.

“Friends?” He asked through gritted teeth. “I didn’t send you to school to make friends. You are there to learn Ladybug’s civilian identity—something you have failed to achieve for the past year!” Although Gabriel remained seated, Adrien stayed alert. He was close enough to the door that should his father pounce, he could escape. “I have allowed you to stay in school despite your inadequacy to complete this task, but it seems my generosity has spoiled you. Perhaps I should withdraw you from school.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he followed the thread of his father’s threat. School was his only lifeline, providing him with a few glorious hours of reprieve from Gabriel and this insufferable house. Without school, he knew the isolation would suffocate him. No Nino, no Marinette, just the expansive fortress of his house and the ever-tightening collar of Gabriel’s control. Any anger welling inside him spiraled down the drain, replaced immediately with quickening heartbeats of dread. “No!” He winced at his desperation and hung his head.

“No what, Adrien?” He scowled at his son, his voice rough as gravel.

“Don’t take me out of school.” Disgust. That’s all Adrien could feel as he begged his father. He was a coward. A useless, intimidated, coward, and he hated himself for the power Gabriel held over him. He’d always surrounded himself with powerful and brave women—his mother, Ladybug, Marinette—to help him find his courage, but without them by his side he was the same scared boy that he feared he would always be. He didn’t have the strength to fight his father alone. And so he didn’t fight; he followed orders, became docile and sacrificed the things he wanted to be able to survive. “Please.” He lifted his head in time to see the twisted turn of glee spreading across his father’s face.

“Very well, but anymore outbursts and I will not be so lenient.”

“Thank you, father.” Adrien choked out, hating the fact that he needed to act grateful to Gabriel.

“Go to your room and be prepared for an akuma tonight.” He resumed working on the tablet.

Although he was dismissed, Adrien stood still, attempting to collect himself. This was not how today was supposed to go. He should be on his way to meet Marinette. She was going to be so disappointed. By some miracle, she had agreed to go with him, and now all of his efforts and anxieties were in vain. She’d understand—she always did when the topic of his father was brought up—but it wouldn’t change the fact that he wasn’t there.

His hands snaked inside his pockets once he started to move towards the exit. His fingers found their way to the lucky charm, a habit after months with the talisman. As much as he wanted to believe in the gift from Marinette, he knew it was obsolete. If it were true, he would have been able to stand up to his father, he would be brave, and free. If it had worked, he would have the things he wanted. Yet, once again, they were just out of his reach. He was a dog, snapping at the tantalizing bone placed farther than his chain allowed. He pulled every which way to reach the prize, but it never budged. He could never get closer, tiring with every second that passed with his struggle, and Gabriel—his owner—loomed behind him, threatening to pull the chain back, dragging Adrien farther and farther away from the bone. Eventually, he would stop struggling; but he still had some bite left in him today.

He reached the heavy wooden door to the foyer and paused. Eyes forward, refusing to look back at his father, Adrien clenched his jaw. Resentment overpowered his obedience as he said, “I wish it were you instead. I wish you had disappeared instead of mom.”

“And I wish it were you.”

A/N: Reminder that this is only part of the chapter so read the rest here

#Miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #ml enemies au #ladynoir enemies #adrienette mutual pining #ladynoir #adrienette #angst fic #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #my fic #like an old enemy

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starshine583 · 4 years

Text

Le Paon Part 12

(Hey guys! Here’s chapter 12 of the Le Paon AU. I hope you all enjoy!)

Part 1 / Part 11 / Part 13

Felix stumbled through the storage door, still reeling from shock. Adrien..his little brother.. The perfect ray of sunshine between them.. was Chat Noir. When did this happen? How did this happen? How long had they been on opposing sides and he had no idea?

He absently climbed the mansion stairs and walked to his and Adrien’s bedroom door. Talking could be heard on the other side, mostly Adrien, but also a voice that Felix didn’t recognize.

Felix pushed open the bedroom door, and a blur of black flicked across the room, the same blur he’d seen a few weeks ago. It makes more sense now.

“Oh, Felix, you’re back. I was wondering where you went.” Adrien said casually, leaning back in his rolling chair with a smile.

Felix only stared at first. A part of him still didn’t want to believe- didn’t want to accept -that Adrien could be Chat Noir. The universe couldn’t possibly be that cruel.

And yet, Adrien looked all too nervous as Felix asked, “Did you see that?”

“See what?” Adrien replied, shifting ever so slightly in his seat.

“That black blur.” Felix muttered, idly glancing around the room despite knowing- deep down -what it really was.

“O-Oh, um-” Adrien fumbled for words, the same way he’d occasionally faltered for the last few months. Felix never thought much of it. Why hadn’t he thought much of it?

“I-I didn’t see anything.” Adrien finally said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe it was just a trick of the mind? You know, you think the lights black out for a second, but really it’s your eyes?”

Again, Felix could only stare. How long had Adrien been hiding this? How long had he been lying straight to Felix’s face? Granted, Felix wasn’t guiltless either, but he thought he knew his little brother better than this. He should have seen the signs, should have known something was up.

“Yes, you’re probably right.” Felix mumbled, turning to the TV simply because he couldn’t look at Adrien anymore. What would Mother say if she could see them now?

What was Father going to say?

Felix sucked in a breath.

Adrien was Chat Noir, one of the two people keeping their Father- keeping Hawk Moth -away from the wish, the wish that they needed to get Mother back.

This whole ordeal was supposed to be about bringing their family back together, but now, family was the very thing standing in the way.

So, Felix supposed as he got ready for bed that night, the new revelation of Adrien’s alternate identity left one, major question: Exactly how far was Father willing to go to get that wish?

~~~~~~

Felix felt his breath hitch as he stopped in front of their Father’s office doors. After a restless night of worrying and thinking and internal screaming, he’d decided to tell the truth about Adrien’s secret identity. Father had to know, right? Everything needed to be out in the open if they were going to get Mother back.

“Felix, are you coming? School’s going to start soon.”

Felix glanced at Adrien, who was staring at him expectantly from the front door.

“...you go on ahead. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Adrien shrugged and continued outside to the awaiting car, while Felix turned back to the office door.

It’s now or never.

Tentatively, he knocked on the door. When a faint hum came from the other side, Felix lightly pushed open the door and walked inside.

Gabriel stood at his computer as usual, completely disinterested in everything around him. He didn’t even pause his work until Felix cleared his throat.

“Yes, what is it?” Gabriel asked impatiently, not bothering to look up.

Felix faltered. “I.. Well.. It has come to my attention that..”

Gabriel rose a brow at him.

Felix swallowed.

"Never mind." He said, shifting his gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry for interrupting."

Telling Father about Adrien would only cause more unnecessary conflict amongst them. First he’ll get Ladybug’s miraculous, then he’ll try to convince Adrien to give up his.

~~~~~~

Marinette fiddled with her jacket nervously as she glanced at Alya, who was hiding with her in a corner of the hall. “Alya, I’m not sure about this.”

Alya merely waved a hand at her as she scanned the halls. “Oh, stop worrying. It’ll be fine.”

“But I still need to work on my dress for homecoming next week.” Marinette countered.

“You can work on it later. It’s practically finished anyway.” Alya replied, still staring at the other students. “Oh, there he is!”

“Alya-” Marinette yelped as Alya grabbed her wrist and dragged her across the hall. Felix and Adrien had just arrived, and her best friend seemed adamant about putting her “matchmaking plan” into action, so Marinette did her best to give a casual smile as they intercepted the Agreste brothers.

“Felix! Just the guy I wanted to see.” Alya greets, tugging Marinette to her side as they come to a stop.

Annoyance flicked across Felix’s expression, until his eyes landed on Marinette. She felt her heart skip a bit as the annoyance on his face immediately faded, replaced with something softer, and something else she couldn’t quite catch.

“Marinette and I are going to the movies tonight with some friends.” Alya continued, slinging her arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “Would you like to join us? Adrien’s invited too, of course.”

Heat bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks. She’d actually forgotten that Adrien was standing there.

“Sounds like fun! What do you think, Fe?” Adrien asked, slinging his arm around Felix’s shoulders.

Felix’s gaze flicked between them with suspicion, before pausing on Marinette. She felt her breath hitch, her insides curling with anticipation.

“I think we can find time in our schedule.” He answered.

Adrien and Alya both grinned.

“Great!” Alya cheered. “Meet us at Le Brady, seven o’clock sharp.”

“We’ll be there.” Adrien assured.

Marinette gave a small, shy smile, suddenly much more excited about the movies.

~~~~~~

Adrien stared at his brother’s reflection in the car window with a smug smirk. Felix looked a bit stiffer than usual, or even- dare he say it -nervous. His older brother never got nervous. Then again, he’d probably never fallen in love before. (And Felix was definitely in love with Marinette, of that Adrien was sure.)

“So, how did you get Father to agree to the movies?” Adrien asked, turning to face Felix fully. “I thought he said that Marinette was a bad influence.”

“He did. That’s why we’re going to the movies with Allegra. Father can’t refuse us an evening with the diplomat’s daughter.” Felix replied coolly.

Adrien hummed. “Lying to Father now, huh? That’s a pretty desperate attempt to see Marinette, Fe.”

Felix scoffed and shot him a look. “I’ve lied to him for you before.”

“Yeah, but not for anyone else.” Adrien countered.

“I’ve never had to lie for anyone else.”

“But would you?”

Felix narrowed his eyes.

Adrien smirked. “Case in point.”

The car rolled to a stop in front of the movie theater, and Adrien hopped out before Felix could retort anything. Whatever movie they were going to see, Adrien knew it wouldn’t be half as entertaining as watching Felix hang out with Marinette that evening.

~~~~~~

Marinette fixed the light pink flower pin that had been clipped into the left side of her hair for the third time since they entered the movie theater. She’d told Alya that dressing up wasn’t necessary, but all of the girls insisted that she looked nice for her “date”.

“It’s not a date!” Marinette had argued.

“Well, it might as well be.” Alya had retorted. “He obviously likes you.”

Marinette was still blushing from that comment. Especially now, when the boy in question was sitting right beside her. Alya fought tooth and nail to have them sit together (to no one’s surprise). She even went so far as to separate the rest of the group’s seats so that Felix and Marinette were on the other side of the theater, alone.

She stole a small glance at Felix, who was calmly watching the previews ahead of them. He had to know what Alya was trying to do at this point, right? Was he okay with the relentless matchmaking, or did it make him uncomfortable? How does he feel about it all?

How does she feel about it all?

“This is my first time in a movie theater.”

Marinette blinked, her flurry of thoughts dissipating at Felix’s comment. This was his first time in a movie theater? For some reason, that didn’t shock her as much as it probably should have.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” She asked politely.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he shrugged. “It was always too much of a hassle. By the time we got to the theater room, Adrien would be crowded with fans.”

Marinette nodded. That made sense. “How did you escape the paparazzi tonight?”

A mischievous gleam came to his silver eyes. “Adrien posted a picture of himself at a cafe half way across Paris. No one will be bothering us for a while.”

Marinette chuckled, wondering how they were able to pull that off. It sounded like quite a feat. “Well, I’m glad you guys were able to make it.”

“So am I.”

The previews finally subsided about five minutes later, and the movie started playing on the big screen. Marinette watched it for the first twenty minutes, but the more she watched, the more she disliked. The actors were constantly staring straight at the camera, and the plot was a mess. How do movies like these make it to theaters?

“Who authorized the release for this?” Felix mumbled next to her, causing Marinette to perk up.

“I know right? It’s like they picked a few people off the street and threw them into a shaky storyline.” She whispered, slumping into her seat slightly. Was Alya watching the movie too, or was she too focused on Nino?

Felix sat up slightly and glanced towards the back of the theater, where the rest of the group was. “Why don’t we skip? Surely, there’s something more entertaining we can do.”

Marinette’s eyes widened with surprise. She’d always assumed that Felix would be a stickler for the rules. “What would we do?”

Felix tilted his head back and forth in thought. “We could go get ice cream? I didn’t get to accompany you and the others yesterday.”

A bashful smile found its way onto her lips. The fact that he was inviting her to go get ice cream despite not liking sweets warmed her from the inside out. “Are you sure you don’t want to get something else?”

“I’ll be fine.” He said with a slight wave of his hand. “Are we going then?”

Marinette’s gaze flicked to the back where Alya and the others were sitting. They were all engrossed in the movie, except for Adrien, who seemed to be looking in their direction with some sort of smile. (Though it could be the lighting.)

“Yeah. Let’s go.” She decided, quietly slipping her purse back on.

Felix nodded, and they carefully crept out of the auditorium together, both hoping their respective “chaperones” didn’t notice their disappearance.

Thankfully, no one did- to their knowledge -and Felix and Marinette got to stroll right out of the movie theater.

“Is there a specific ice cream parlor you’d like to visit?” Felix asked as they walked outside.

Marinette shook her head, taking in a deep breath as the night air hit her face. It was a warm evening, save for the occasional cool breezes that passed by. The sun had just dipped down into the horizon, so a bit of light remained in the sky, but that didn’t stop the Paris street lights from brightening the blocks as well. Marinette didn’t mind, though. She rather liked the soft glow that the street lights provided.

“I saw a post a while ago about Andre being around here. Maybe he’s still in the area?” She suggested, turning right.

Felix followed. “Who’s Andre?”

Marinette gasped. “You don’t know who Andre is?”

“..I don’t get out often.” Felix muttered, flicking his gaze to the road.

A small chuckled passed her lips. “It’s not a bad thing, I’m just surprised. But now we have to go see him.” She grabbed his hand with a grin and started tugging him along. “We might have to run, though.”

Felix didn’t respond, prompting Marinette to look back at him. He was staring at their joined hands, a deep blush shrouding his cheeks.

Marinette flushed at the sight. She had gotten excited and didn’t think about the fact that she was grabbing Felix Agreste’s hand. Now they were holding hands, and her heart was pounding in her chest, and worst- best? -of all, she didn’t want to let go.

“I-If you want to, that is.” She added, forcing herself to loosen her grip on his hand.

Her stomach flipped when he squeezed her hand in retaliation.

“Uh- no. No, I don’t mind.” Felix finally said. “Lead the way.”

Marinette, not trusting herself to speak lest she fall into a stuttering mess, nodded and pulled out her phone with her free hand to find Andre’s current location. It was harder to find at night time, but as luck would have it, someone posted a picture with Andre near the Pontes De Arts.

They wandered around the streets in that direction, and Marinette tried not to focus on Felix’s touch, or how electrifying it was. She’d held onto him like this before, once at the ice rink and once at the mansion, but this time was different somehow. Instead of nervousness or hesitance, she felt this giddy excitement that buzzed in her chest and coiled through her stomach. The way his hand shifted in hers to intertwine their fingers together gave her a rush of ecstasy, and Marinette found it positively addicting. She couldn’t help wondering how she would feel if they were just a little bit closer. How much would this strange ecstasy spread within her if Felix were to pull her against him, run his fingers through her hair, and-

“Is that him?”

Marinette jumped, a harsh blush exploding across her cheeks as reality set back in again. “S-Sorry?”

“Andre.” Felix elaborated, pointing towards the end of the street. “Is that him?”

Marinette followed his finger to a man at the end of the block who was pushing along an ice cream cart and joyfully whistling to himself. “O-Oh, um, yes. That’s him.”

Felix smiled. “Do we just walk up to him?”

Marinette returned his smile. “Yep! He gives everyone special ice creams for free.”

“That’s not a very sound business practice.” Felix commented. “Wait, special? Special how?”

“Well..” Marinette twirled one of her pigtails on her finger. “He claims to hand out ice creams that represent your true love, and I have to admit, he’s accurate more often than not.”

Felix hummed. “That’s something I’d like to see.”

Marinette chuckled, and they made their way over to Andre, catching him at the end of the block.

“Ah! Such a lovely couple on a nightly stroll! I shall fix you a tasty ice cream to enjoy while you’re out!” Andre beamed, moving to get some blue raspberry ice cream.

“Oh no-” Marinette sheepishly interrupted “-We’re- We’re not a couple.”

Andre paused, a slight frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “Not a couple? But I can see you two are bursting with love for each other! You’re even holding hands.”

Felix and Marinette immediately pulled their hands away from each other, their cheeks flushing a deep scarlet.

“J-Just one ice cream please.” Marinette said, her voice anything but leveled.

Andre sighed, but gave her a cone of cotton candy and banana ice cream.

“Thank you.” She mumbled as she took the cone.

“Some for you as well?” Andre inquired, turning to Felix.

He shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t fancy sweets. I’m only here for her.”

For some reason, the comment resonated with Marinette, and she stared up at him, starstruck. Felix had come all this way just for her, and though it may seem like a small gesture, it was one of many. He’s taught her how to paint, given her support in her passions, and offered to help with school projects without ever asking for anything in return.

And Marinette, as she’s watching Felix talk with Andre, was struck with a sudden, yet painfully obvious realization:

She liked Felix. She really, really liked him.

“Well, I’m off to spread more love and joy around Paris! Have a wonderful evening lovebirds!” Andre called as he walked off.

“We’re not..” Felix started to correct, before shaking his head and deciding it wasn’t worth it. He then turned back to Marinette. “How’s the ice cream?”

Marinette, being the eloquent girl she is, only stared at him. She was simply mesmerized. By his slight, contented smile, by the gentle sway of his bangs in the evening breeze, by the specks of blue she hadn’t noticed in his shining, silver eyes until the street lights hit them just right, by him. Just standing next to him was enough to take her breath away. How had she been so blind to him before?

Marinette’s thoughts were interrupted by the abrupt realization that he’d asked her a question, and she scrambled to remember what it was. “Uh- s-sorry -the ice cream? It’s- um-”

“Oh, your flower.” Felix spoke up, graciously cutting her off.

“M-My flower?” Marinette echoed, absently reaching up to touch the hair piece.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s crooked. Here, let me..”

Marinette’s breath hitched as he took a step towards her, but remained still. Felix unclipped the flower, causing some of her bangs to fall across her face, and clipped it again in a tighter position.

“There.” He murmured, brushing a bit of her bangs aside. “Good as new.”

Marinette opened her mouth to say “Thank you”, but of course, nothing came out.

Everything in her froze as his eyes trailed down to meet hers. They were mere inches apart now, so close that she could smell the faint scent of books from his time in the library.

Felix’s hand brushed against her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

“Marinette.” His whisper sent shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes, reveling in everything that was him.

Felix leaned forward- she could feel his chest press closer against her -but before their lips met, a rumbling shook the ground beneath them.

The two tensed, and Marinette’s eyes snapped open.

“Any chance that’s just an earthquake tremor?” She mumbled, scanning the Parisian streets.

“Probably not.” Felix replied, glancing around as well.

Another rumble shook the streets, this time larger. Then, an ear piercing roar split the sky.

Marinette sighed. “I didn’t think so.”

Of course an akuma would come right now. When else would an akuma come? Surely not when she actually had time to fight it. That would be ridiculous.

“You should go.” She said, putting a hand on Felix’s shoulder. “Get to safety.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Felix replied firmly.

Marinette held back a grimace. She had a feeling he’d say that. “Someone needs to go warn the others.”

Felix tisked and scanned the block again. “Alright, you go find shelter in there. I’ll go warn them.”

Marinette wanted to argue, but splitting up was the best option if she was going to transform. “Be careful.”

His eyes settled on hers. “You too.”

Then they ran.

~~~~~~

Le Paon jumped across the rooftops towards the akuma, harshly cursing his luck. He’d gotten this close to kissing Marinette! Their lips were practically touching when that- that thing came onto the scene!

And what a thing it was. He’d honestly thought that the akuma was a building at first. It towered over the streets, breaking apart everything in its path. The deep purple tint of the creature even blended perfectly with the night sky. It’s beading, glowing blue eyes, however, did not.

How am I supposed to get the miraculous with this monstrosity? Le Paon thought, briefly pausing on a rooftop to catch his breath. Its ginormous claws could barely pick up a car let alone snatch a pair of earrings or a ring.

He started running again, dearly wishing this rip-off Godzilla would start taking baby steps. It was clearing two to four blocks in one stride, and Le Paon just couldn’t keep pace. When was Father going to start thinking these akumas through?

In his haste to keep up with his impromptu partner, Le Paon didn’t notice the staff extending to the middle of his current rooftop. He hit the staff full force and cried out in pain as he skidded across the ground.

“Oh~ that’s a nasty fall if ever I saw one.” Chat Noir mused behind him. “You might want to get some tweet-ment for that.”

Le Paon groaned, but not from the pain. Throwing the hero’s looks and voice aside, Felix should have recognized Chat Noir as Adrien sooner simply because they shared the same, horrible sense of humor.

Le Paon pushed himself to his feet, holding back a wince, and flicked his wrists to have his fans slide into his hands. He didn’t want to fight Adrien, but if he didn’t keep up appearances, Father would become suspicious. Felix needed to keep Adrien’s miraculous a secret, or rather, keep the fact that Felix knew about Adrien’s miraculous a secret. Adrien seemed to be keeping the secret of his miraculous just fine.

“Let’s just get this over with fast.” Le Paon said, spreading out his fans.

Chat Noir shifted into a fighting stance. “My pleasure.”

So, to recap, Le Paon has to attempt to get Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous while also trying to communicate with the monster behind him to do so, and while trying to avoid hitting Chat Noir- the guard dog -as much as possible.

That should be easy.

~~~~~

Felix slumped against a building wall as the magic from his miraculous melted off of his body. That was officially the worst akuma attack he’d ever been involved in. The darn thing didn’t even serve its intended purpose. Felix spent more time avoiding the thing’s enormous, swinging arms than actually working with it. He didn’t even keep the heroes contained! Felix assumed that the monster would be able to help somehow, but it just kept hitting Ladybug and Chat Noir away from him!

Needless to say, Ladybug’s identity was still a mystery. Perhaps if Father started choosing more subtle or precise akumas, they would actually start getting somewhere.

Felix begrudgingly moved from the building wall to poke his head out of the alleyway he’d landed in. if the Miraculous Cure did its job properly- and it always did -Marinette and the others should be back at the movie theater. Well, Marinette might still be running to the theaters, but Felix should get there right when she does.

After seeing the empty street, Felix started his walk back to the theaters. He would have run, but his legs already burned from how much jumping he did as Le Paon. Nevertheless, he was determined to get back to Marinette and make sure she was alright.

That is, until he heard it.

The sound was faint at first, but as Felix neared the end of the block, it grew louder. A moaning, old and rattling, was coming from one of the other alleyways.

His footsteps lulled a moment as he curiously glanced down the different alleyways on the street. One, in particular, stuck out to Felix.

It was hard to catch at first, due to the street lamps being his only source of light, but Felix saw a man lying face down in the alleyway. The man was reaching for something and groaning quiet pleas for help.

“Sir?” Felix called, cautiously approaching the man. “Are you alright?”

“H...Help..me..” The man groaned. “My.. my staff.. They threw it..”

Felix looked around the alleyway and found a cane near the entrance. He quickly scooped it up and brought it back to the old man.

“Who threw it?” He asked as he helped the man to his feet.

“The muggers.” The old man rasped, gripping Felix’s shirt tightly to pull himself up. “They took everything I have, and now I can’t get home.”

The old man slipped and fell against Felix, but Felix managed to catch him in time.

“All right, where do you live? I’ll call my driver to take you there.”

The old man looked up at him. “You will?”

Felix nodded. So much for getting back to Marinette.

“Oh, thank you. I am forever in your debt.” The old man said.

Felix waved a hand. “Not at all. I’ll have to tell Father about this though. What’s your name?”

The old man smiled. “You can call me ‘Fu’.”

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @frostymoon11 @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asainfrustration13 @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @fanficaddict4ever @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace @the-navistar-carol @sannsibarr @grumpy-vixen-kitten @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @utcaro @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt @dawn-the-rithmatist @artcart0n @mermaidreject @dreamykitty25

#Le Paon AU #Felinette #Marinette #Felix Agreste #sorry if there are some typos #I'm too tired to edit properly lol

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thanatosangels · 4 years

Note

Omg I loved your last Gabrily fic so so much!!! And can I ask please for 🥰 for them with their kids please? Their family dynamic is so cute, if you feel like doing it of course

thank you so much omg!! i hope you like this one aswell <333

first Gabrily here :)

~~~~~~~~

Cecily rung the breakfast bell for the second time that morning.

Baby Alexander giggled in her arms as she sighed, heavily, and placed the bell down on the table in the hall. She turned and walked into the dining room, seeing only Gabriel seated at the table, half hidden by his newspaper.

“Gabriel darling, would you take Alexander whilst I go rouse Christopher?” Alexander pointed at himself in acknowledgement of his own name, and Cecily nodded at him encouragingly. He had a gratified look on his face.

Gabriel, however, didn’t even look up from his newspaper. “That’s nice, dear.”

Rolling her eyes, Cecily said, “Oh, yes. By the way, I heard your father returned from the grave and is causing yet more havoc as a giant worm.”

“Is that so?” He flipped the page.

“Also, I am leaving you for Gideon. We have been having the most wonderfully passionate love affair. In the gardens, the library, even in our bed!”

Picking up his tea, he murmured a thoughtful “Mmm.”

“And I think we should change our second name to Lightworm.”

At that, his eyes bulged and, choking on his tea, threw his newspaper down on the table. “Pardon?” He spluttered.

She had resolved to keep a straight face and a cool gaze, but she burst out laughing at his expression of bewilderment. Alexander started laughing too. “You didn't listening to a thing i just said, you bloody man!” He was still looking wounded, so as she strode over and handed him Alexander, she planted a small kiss on his forehead which brought a smile to his lips.

“You know I love you, don’t you, Cecy?”

“I do!” She called over her shoulder as she hurried out of the dining room.

Gathering up her skirts in her hands, she began to climb the stairs. She often found herself wishing it were socially acceptable for Shadowhunter woman to spend all their time in the tight and comfortable gear rather than corsets and heavy skirts, which she felt could be saved for special events only. She was still contemplating this when she rapped her knuckles on Christopher’s bedroom door.

“Good morning, bach!” She waited for a response. Nothing.

Then she heard a small pop! and her stomach dropped.

She knocked again, more insistently this time. “Christopher?”

“Just coming, Ma!” There was a small plume of smoke coming from under the door now.

Cecily shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Angel give me strength. “Christopher, I’m coming in.”

Tentatively, she opened the door. She saw her son, goggles sitting crookedly on his head, tongue slightly out his mouth in concentration, his lilac eyes fixed on the smouldering beaker in his right hand that he was transferring the contents of into another beaker in his left. She also saw the state of his pyjamas, which were charred at the cuffs of his sleeves and stained with an unknown blue liquid down the front.

She slowly shook her head before lowering it into her hands.

“Darling, those pyjamas were new!” Her voice was muffled. “And we talked about experiments before breakfast!” She sighed, deeply - again.

Christopher, finished whatever it was he was doing, placed the beakers down and went over to his mother. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and she could feel the excited energy that was radiating off him.

“I know, Ma, I’m sorry,” As she looked up, and he smiled his lazy, easy grin at her. She felt her heart expand with an all encompassing love for her Christopher, her genius, and all annoyance was immediately forgotten. She reached up - he was quite a bit taller than her now - and ruffled his hair just as she heard the doorbell.

“Oh! That’ll be Anna,” She heard their servant, Mary, open the door and Anna’s rich, familiar voice drifting up the stairs. Cecily narrowed her eyes and looked Christopher up and down, surveying the damage. “You’re not hurt are you?” He shook his head and his goggles fell down onto his nose, so she plucked them off and discarded them on the chest of drawers by the door. “Then you’ll have to do. Come on, and do tell me what you were doing as we go.”

As they made their way down the stairs, Christopher spoke very animatedly and very fast. Cecily was sure she heard the words “Uncle Henry”, “Magnesium” and possibly even “Arsenic” but she did not quite catch or understand the rest. She simply took a leaf out of Gabriel’s book and nodded along, smiling.

They reached the dining room, and now Anna had joined Gabriel and Alexander at the breakfast table.

Anna had very clearly not slept.

There were dark bags under eyes that were just a little too bright. Her shirtsleeves were messily rolled to her elbows and her peacock print waistcoat was undone. Her short hair was sticking out at all angles, and she was smiling very widely at Gabriel, who had an amused look on his face.

“Hullo Anna! That is a capital waistcoat you have on.” Christopher said as he seated himself next to his father at the table.

Anna was laughing about the state of Christopher’s pyjamas as Cecily sat down next to her. Cecily leaned over, grinning, and pinched her daughter’s cheek affectionately. “You look like you’ve been busy! Did you have a late night?” She teased.

Anna cast her dancing gaze towards her mother, smiling crookedly. “Dearest Mother, you wouldn't even know the half of it.”

Cecily laughed, and looked around the table at her perfectly imperfect little family. Gabriel, her love, bouncing their beautiful baby boy on his knee, glowing with the contented happiness he wore so easily these days. Christopher, destined for such great things, trying to teach his little brother to say ‘glucinum’. And Anna, her daughter; her firstborn; her trailblazer; her shining star of hope for the future, smiling right at her.

Cecily often wondered how she managed to get so lucky.

“Mother,” Anna was poking her arm. “Come back down to earth. You look a million miles away.”

“Just daydreaming, bach.” She raised her voice, so as to be heard from the kitchen. “Mary! Do bring Anna a coffee, will you!”

#mae 100 #mae writes #gabrily #gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #anna lightwood #christopher lightwood #alexander lightwood #the last hours #tlh #chain of gold #tsc fanfiction #the shadowhunters chronicles #shadowhunters #tlh fanfiction #the infernal devices #tid

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unityghost · 4 years

Text

Release

For the 27th installment of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels, I'm fulfilling two requests from Twistedlove on Archive of Our Own: write something that takes place a little earlier in the series, and show Sam's response to one of the fainting spells to which past stories have alluded.

“You mentioned this chapter [’To Slip and Fall’] about him losing consciousness in the past. I wonder how Sam reacted to that.”

I envision this as taking place somewhere between the second and third entries ("Heavy" and "Midnight Blue"). I've said it before: continuity is a little out of my reach because this was never supposed to become a series (whoopsie), but I do what I can to keep things as smooth as possible.

Got me thinking about the time I fainted in front of a crowd while giving a poetry reading. Womp womp.

Thanks for reading!

On the seventh consecutive day of rain, time began to feel crooked. Gabriel fell asleep at lunchtime and woke two hours later to his door creaking open.

Sam smiled when Gabriel rolled over to look at him. “Hey, Gabriel.”

Gabriel groaned and pressed the heels of his hands over either temple to try and ease an oncoming headache. “Good to see you, Sam. My favorite part of the reunion was when you didn’t knock.”

“You must’ve slept through it. We haven’t seen you in a few hours. Everything okay on your end?”

“I’m fine. What do you need?”

“Just wanted to let you know we saved some casserole for you in case you were hungry. I mean, you haven’t eaten since …”

Gabriel shoved himself upright. “I don’t remember either.”

Sam frowned at him, then glanced over his shoulder into the hall. “Hey … is it all right if I step in for a second?”

Gabriel scanned Sam’s face, his hands, his body. “What for?”

Sam looked a little surprised by the shift in Gabriel’s tone. “You can say no.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I’m not …” Sam offered an uncertain smile. “I’m not here to punish you or whatever, if that’s where your mind went.”

Gabriel cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “No, that isn’t what I thought. Um, yeah, make yourself comfy, champ.”

Sam stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “I was only looking to check up on you. Figured maybe you wanted to talk to me.”

Gabriel almost asked, Why? What am I doing wrong? Instead he answered with, “About what?”

“Well,” said Sam, “For one, you look kind of … awful.”

“That’s according to plan. The last thing I’d want to do is make any one of you feel jealous.”

“And also, you - ”

“Wait.” Gabriel held up a hand. “Listen, Sam: I’m sorry, but at the moment I’m not sure I have the stamina to rifle through a scrapbook full of bad memories. You know better than anybody how much that kind of works takes out of the both of us.”

Sam shrugged. “We don’t have to do anything like that. We could just … hang out.” He waited for Gabriel to reply. When Gabriel said nothing, Sam declared, “No problem. In the meantime, I guess maybe I’ll go get some coffee and hang out in the library. Dean just now told me he thinks he might’ve found us a case to work on in Connecticut. Nothing’s for sure yet, but might as well use the time to dig up whatever info might end up being useful, right? So if you need me - ”

“Don’t know why I would.”

“ - I’ll be in the library.” Sam turned, and placed a hand on the doorknob.

“Hold on,” said Gabriel, and Sam turned back. “Don’t go all the way to Connecticut.”

“We don’t have plans yet. Plus, I don’t have to be the one to go if it makes you nervous.”

“No one’s nervous; I just … I … you know.”

Sam looked puzzled. “No. I don’t know.”

What was Gabriel doing? It was ridiculous - not to mention wildly imprudent - that he should try and dictate Sam’s actions. It was even more absurd that he should feel threatened by the prospect of Sam not being nearby.

“Ah, never mind,” said Gabriel. “You can totally go to Connecticut. Pennsylvania. Arkansas. Colorado. The Pyrenees. Anywhere that tickles your fancy, Sam.”

Sam let go of the doorknob. “Gabriel, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’re spending too much time alone.”

Gabriel glanced at the floor, thinking of the nightmares and flashbacks to which Sam had been witness since Gabriel first arrived at the bunker several weeks earlier. He was afraid that, if he said anything now, he would be perpetuating a trend that he did not want to continue. “There’s some way to describe what’s up with me, but I’m not confident about getting it right.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Yeah. For sure. Always.” He continued to avoid Sam’s gaze. “They come at odd hours when I can’t keep track of day and night. The rain, you know? Not like we can see it from here. But I feel it. It’s weird, actually; it’s like I can sense it in a way I couldn’t before. Near-gracelessness and whatnot - makes me tired, causes pain … everything feels different now. But it’s not about the nightmares - that isn’t new.”

“So what else, then? Can you tell me?”

Gabriel remained silent.

“Gabriel,” Sam said, “You’re the only one who knows what you’re feeling.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m the only one who feels what I’m feeling. But I don’t know what it is, or how to give an accurate picture. Headachey, I guess. Exhausted.”

Sam waited for him to say more. When Gabriel didn’t go on, Sam took a few cautious steps toward the bed and sat beside him.

“I feel like you might be getting worse,” Sam said softly, “Not better.”

“Yeah, well ...”

“You’re spending a lot of time by yourself. And whenever any of us tries to get you to hang out, or eat, or go for a walk, or whatever, you just sort of … hide.”

“I don’t hide.”

“What would you call it?”

“Voluntary seclusion.”

“I’m not prosecuting you. You know that, right? It isn’t wrong if you need time to yourself. It’s just that I’ve never thought of you as a wallflower.”

“Excuse you. I’m the prettiest of all wallflowers; I’m a whole-ass bouquet.”

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Sam’s tone was gentle. “As best you can?”

Gabriel fidgeted. “I mean … sure. I can give you what I know. But that’s all I’ve got.”

“Yeah, tell me.”

Gabriel took a deep breath, released it, and began: “You guys have a good, solid rhythm going. Your own thing. Your own little family. Who am I to look for a place in that, huh? Plus - and I know you won’t be happy about this, Sam, but it is what it is - sometimes I prefer not to be around the others. Dean is … intense, Cas is hard to read - especially when my grace is low and I can’t always communicate with him in ways I might have before - and Jack is … look, the fact of the matter is Jack is a stranger. I’m sorry, but you’re the only one I can trust even a little bit, and otherwise I’d rather be alone.

“There’s one more thing, and it doesn’t make a lick of sense: most of the time, I wish I wasn’t by myself - but I feel like I have no choice. Now, obviously, nobody’s depriving me of the option to saunter out there and say, ‘Screw it, I know not one of you is looking to throw me around like a bargain-bin Raggedy-Ann knockoff.’ But here I am, some castaway watching a cruise ship glide past on still waters, and I’m not doing a damn thing to get myself rescued.” Gabriel clenched his jaw. “So I go with plan B: lock myself in here like a sick kitten and cry.”

He heard Sam shift beside him.

“The point is,” Gabriel went on, “None of this makes sense. I don’t make sense.”

“I think it makes sense.” Gabriel tried to catch any revulsion or annoyance in Sam’s voice and couldn’t. “All of it makes sense to me.”

“Bully for you, Sam. I don’t know what metric you’re using, but something ain’t adding up.”

“I think you just need to let yourself adjust. Give yourself some space to heal. And time - you gotta give yourself time before you can expect to really feel better.”

Gabriel raised his eyes to meet Sam’s. “Time and space sound fantastic, but they’re not what I need. I need my grace. I need to forget about Asmodeus. And - ”

Sam furrowed his brow. “And?”

Gabriel swallowed. “And I need that now.”

Sam lifted a hand. “Can I - ”

“No,” said Gabriel, “Please don’t touch me.”

Sam lowered his hand. “Look ... Gabe … there’s no forgetting. That isn’t what you need. And you can’t hold yourself to that standard, because you’re setting yourself up for failure if you decide that the only way to improve is to forget.”

“Yeah, well, no one’s trying to make a case for its likelihood. All I’m saying is that’s the only thing that could ever make a difference. You asked me to talk, we can talk - but if you can’t handle the truth then maybe find another conversation partner. However, if you think you can metabolize it, you want to know what I’ve learned since coming here?”

“What’s that?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yeah, Gabe. I really do.”

“Dandy.” Gabriel made sure to hold Sam’s gaze this time. “Here’s your appetizer: on my first night here, I learned that sleep doesn’t have anything to do with rest, and that the unconscious brain can hold about ten different storylines at one time. A little meatier: after that I learned just how committed a graceless body can be to purging itself of phantom danger even when there’s nothing left to throw up. By now - and here’s your entree - I’ve learned that getting out of Hell doesn’t mean I’m not still there. How was I to know I’d be scared of my own brother? Scared of Dean? How was I supposed to plan for that? And how was I supposed to anticipate just how much help I was going to need when I ought to be damn well capable of helping myself?” Gabriel turned away. “Hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget to leave a tip.”

“Gabriel …” This time, Sam simply took Gabriel by the shoulder.

Gabriel jolted away. “Stop it, I told you not to!”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Sam softened his voice. “I really didn’t think. Listen, buddy, don’t be so hard on yourself about all this.”

Gabriel gave a cold smile. “Even when it’s happening all the time?”

“‘It?’ What’s happening all the time?”

“I see Asmodeus everywhere, Sam. Around every corner, behind me, next to me, in every one of you. Even you - sometimes. And I … that’s not all right, and I’m sorry.”

“You won’t get better by being sorry, Gabriel.”

“You worry about me holing myself up in here, away from the rest of you? You worry about not being able to monitor me all the time?”

“No. I get that there’s no reason to keep tabs on you twenty-four/seven. I worry because it’s nothing like you to pull yourself away from everyone around you and I feel like you might need … I don’t know. Something.”

“Yeah? And what do you think you’re gonna do when I finally agree to set the party ablaze with this killer personality Asmodeus cultivated for almost a millennium? You know, Sam, sometimes humans throw around this idea that it’s better to get it all out - to let yourself be messy, to break down freely. Because sure, all right: your kind aren’t built to house your pain in those bodies indefinitely. And then there’s me.” Gabriel laughed, harshly and quietly. “I can hold it. I can keep myself together. But, just like you, like any human being, I reach a tipping point. Fair enough; I can accept that. Except here’s one other fun tidbit I’ve learned: losing control doesn’t help. Sobbing myself into a coma never does a damn thing to make the pain anything but more real. Think twice about whether you’re prepared to see that for yourself, Sammy.”

There was a lengthy pause after he finished. Gabriel listened to the footsteps in the hall, the occasional click of a door, Dean shouting a question to Castiel.

When Sam didn’t speak, Gabriel kept on: “It’s easier, Sam. It’s just plain easier to hide. For me, and for you. For all of you. The truth is I’m - I mean - I’m scared out of my wits, and I don’t know how to change that.”

“That’s how you’re supposed to feel after somebody hurts you,” Sam replied before Gabriel could add I’m sorry. “And do you really think it’s easier to lock yourself up?”

“Why else would I be doing it? When have I ever done anything other than take the easy way out?”

“You don’t think maybe you’re making this harder for yourself on purpose?”

“I have no idea what I’m doing to myself!” Gabriel was beginning to feel sick. “I don’t know how much is me and how much is him.”

“You aren’t going to feel any better, any freer, if every time you feel like you’re back in Hell you reinforce it by holding yourself hostage. Gabriel - look - I won’t make you listen to me or talk to me, but I need you to know that I’m not as scared of seeing you in pain as you are. You don’t have to dedicate any amount of time to me or anybody else, but we’re here. I’m here. And I really don’t think you have anything to be ashamed of.”

Shut up, Gabriel wanted to say. I have everything to be ashamed of. But he couldn’t speak: his throat was locked tight, exactly the way he locked himself in the bedroom when he didn’t want the rest of them to see what was happening to him.

“You have the power to drown him out,” Sam continued. “He’s gone and you have the power to make sure he stays gone.”

Gabriel shook his head. He hadn’t had any kind of power for a long time now.

“And you’ve got more than that,” Sam reminded him. “You’ve got us. Me especially, if that’s all you want right now.”

“I don’t want anything,” Gabriel whispered.

If there could be no forgetting, he realized, then there had to be acceptance. Letting the others in - letting any of them, especially Sam, any nearer - would facilitate just the opposite by bringing the pain into the full sight of everyone, including Gabriel; allowing the others to see, to watch, would be to keep the pain alive.

Acceptance necessitated tolerance. Welcoming their gestures of goodwill not only showed intolerance for the memories that haunted him but signaled that he was prepared to fight what he knew would never, ever go away unless he could erase it from his mind completely.

He leaned forward, so that his forehead was close to his knees, and buried his fingers in his hair.

“Are you okay?” asked Sam.

“Yes.” But the truth was that Gabriel was struggling to breathe against the tightness in his throat. His headache had, within the last few minutes, grown exponentially stronger.

“Gabriel,” Sam murmured, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” His heartbeat increased as he struggled to draw breath. He knew that he was able to breathe, knew that this was simply an unwelcome byproduct of the battle, but he struggled nonetheless.

“Gabe, what’s the matter?” He felt Sam put a hand on his back, and this time Gabriel didn’t startle. “Can you sit up, maybe? Are you gonna be sick?”

He sounded worried. Gabriel wanted to tell him not to worry, that nothing was seriously wrong; that sometimes, this was what it looked like when he decided not to give in, not to let go.

It occurred to Gabriel then that Sam had seen him break down before, and perhaps there was little point in going to these lengths just to shield Sam from something he’d already witnessed.

Then he remembered that thinking in that direction - the direction of maybe just this once - would trick Gabriel into believing that it was all right to put himself on display, to showcase this obscenely vulnerable side of himself to anyone who might toy with it; or, worse, to someone like Sam, who would probably never do any such thing and allow Gabriel to take advantage of him.

Way to breathe, dumbass, Gabriel thought as he grew dizzy; and then he realized that somebody was calling his name and that he was on the floor with no recollection of having placed himself there.

He tried to piece together the last few seconds - moments? Minutes? - and found that he couldn’t. Then he realized what must have happened, but why was there another presence? Who was standing over him?

“No,” Gabriel groaned, and tried to sit up just as a pair of hands seized hold of him. “Don’t - ”

“It’s just me, Gabriel, just me.”

“Let go,” Gabriel ground out, and Sam did. Gabriel lay back down again.

“What the hell was that?” Sam demanded. “What happened? Gabriel, man - you wouldn’t wake up for about two minutes.”

“Oh.” Gabriel closed his eyes.

“No!” Sam commanded, and Gabriel’s eyes flew open. He stared up at the ceiling, not daring to move. Sometimes moving, trying to get away - that only made it worse.

“Just stay awake,” Sam said, softening his voice. “Just - I need to know you’re all right.”

Gabriel turned his head to get a better look at Sam, who was knelt on the floor beside him, pale and wide-eyed but apparently not as angry as Gabriel had believed.

“I was going to call someone else in,” Sam explained, “But I figured if you woke up and there was another person here you might get nervous.”

“Sometimes,” Gabriel slurred.

“What? Sometimes what?”

“Happens sometimes. Like oops.”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, “I need you to give me a single coherent sentence before I decide not to get help.”

“No. Not a big deal. I get a little upset. Tired. Whatever. And then this.”

“Do you know where you are? Who I am? What year it is?”

“Floor; Sam; post-moon landing, pre-teleportation.”

“How do you feel right now?”

“Floppy.”

“Why’d you pass out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“I mean … it’s like when I get sick, sort of. Moderately less degrading.” Feeling a little more alert, Gabriel pushed himself upright. Sam looked tempted to assist, and Gabriel was grateful when he didn’t try.

“A stress response,” Sam said. “One you didn’t mention.”

“Never came up.”

“So right now, just now - you worked yourself up to the point that you couldn’t even stay conscious?”

“Good at it, aren’t I?” Gabriel leaned against the bedframe and pulled his knees to his chest. He couldn’t tell what Sam was feeling, but he sensed a certain level of frustration. Perhaps Gabriel was confusing desperation with anger; but whatever emotions were driving Sam’s reaction to this episode, there could be no mistaking what Gabriel himself was feeling. He told himself not to be afraid of Sam, and yet …

“I didn’t mean to,” he told Sam. “I really didn’t mean to. I didn’t - ”

“I know you didn’t mean to.” Sam sighed. “I’m not mad, all right? I’m sorry. I’m not. That was just really weird to watch. You went white and started falling off the bed. I grabbed you when half your body was already on the floor, so you didn’t hit your head or anything, but - ”

“Thank you, Prince Charming. My head already hurts like a bitch so I’m glad to be spared.”

“This happens a lot?”

Gabriel tethered his gaze to the floor. “No. It happens when I decide to fight.”

“Fight? Fight what?”

“My instincts. When I decide not to buy into what I said about letting yourself just lose control. There’s no reason to indulge in a breakdown if all it does is make me feel worse. Sometimes this is a … a, ah, side effect of that.”

“God, Gabriel. This is why you need to look for someone instead of running away from us.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah. Of course. What?”

Gabriel peered up at him. “Can you look me dead in the eyes and tell me that you know from firsthand experience that giving yourself space to parade your emotions around for others to witness and potentially ransack has proven a helpful strategy?”

Sam blinked. “I … no. I can’t.”

“Then what the hell are we doing?”

“I never had a chance to find out for myself.” Sam gave a rueful smile. “But I know what I needed.”

“You’re not - oh.” Gabriel looked away again. “I didn’t mean to be an ass.”

“None of this is about me. I’m more interested in making sure you don’t collapse again.”

“I won’t. That only happens when I’m grossly inconvenienced by my own coping mechanisms.”

“Can I help you up?” Sam offered his hands, apparently to hold onto Gabriel; but Gabriel, who didn’t take well to the notion of being touched like that when he was too weak to retaliate, grabbed Sam’s hands instead and let him pull him up that way.

“Wanna lie down?” Sam asked as Gabriel retook his seat on the bed.

“No. No sleeping. No nightmares. Not right now. I just - I can’t.”

“Not even if I stay here with you?”

“You busted in here to talk, didn’t you? Not to watch me while I sleep. Don’t be weird.”

The mattress creaked as Sam sat back down.

“Oh, and for what it’s worth” Gabriel added, “I appreciate your discretion. Thanks for not bringing anyone else in.”

Sam smiled. “I’m glad you’re not too banged up.”

“Well, I’m sorry. For being such a diva. ‘Look at this, Sam; watch me swoon.’ Have you ever seen such melodrama in your life?”

“It’s not melodrama. If you’re struggling that bad - if you’re sick and tired and passing out and crying - that means something’s wrong. It means you need help. What good is there in bullying yourself just for needing help?”

Gabriel surveyed him. Sam looked alert, concerned - perhaps even a little frightened. “Sam … you know the feeling of when someone wants to hurt you and you’d do anything to escape? And the panic is so strong you forget how to put up a rational fight, and all you can do is throw yourself around like a trapped insect? Being kidnapped, or tortured, or held in place - you know that violent, helpless, hysterical feeling?”

Sam looked vaguely nauseated. “Yeah.”

“That’s what I feel whenever I know help is nearby. And if I give in to that feeling, I’ll scream myself raw and it won’t do any good. Losing control doesn’t make things better. It hurts. It hurts me, because I can never get it all out; I’m never empty, Sam, and that feeling is never gone.” His voice trembled. “Frankly, everything made way more sense in Hell. It all added up to an even integer. I was afraid because I was locked in a cell at the mercy of a narcissistic screwball who’d been handed complete power over me. But now? Now I have no reason to feel trapped and alone.”

“And you need one,” Sam said, “So you give yourself one.”

“No! I mean - do I? See, what does that tell you? I’m nuts. I’ve gone off the freakin’ rails. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. All I know is I need help and I’m not going to be okay no matter how much I get. So what’s the point in wringing myself out for something that’s not even going to make a difference in the end?”

Fragments of memory crept forward: Gabriel, screaming and sobbing through the stitches across his mouth, while Asmodeus laughed above him.

“I can plead until time flips itself inside-out,” Gabriel told Sam, “And nothing - nothing - is going to make all that fighting worth it.”

“Not with Asmodeus.” Sam offered his hand. After a moment’s deliberation, Gabriel accepted it. “He liked to waste your time. Here, with us, you don’t have to beg for anything. Food, water, help. Whatever. You don’t have to tear yourself apart just to get what you need.”

“It doesn’t do anything,” Gabriel pleaded. “Letting go, losing control - it just makes things worse. It makes the pain stronger, Sam. I can try and try and it’s still caught inside of me and it won’t come out no matter how hard I pull at it.”

“When you’re by yourself, sure. It’s not a one-man job.”

“I should be stronger than this. Stronger than any of this. Stronger than him, stronger than my own mind, stronger than this feeling. Sam - I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be whatever it is he turned me into.”

Sam squeezed his hand. “He didn’t turn you into anything. You’re still Gabriel.”

“But that’s not … I don’t …” Gabriel didn’t know how to explain that “Gabriel,” whomever that might be, had always been diseased, and that Asmodeus had simply hurt what needed to be hurt.

“I’m confused,” said Gabriel. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

“You’re trying to heal. I think sometimes that can be as rough as whatever it is you’re trying to heal from.”

“I’m tired. Tired and terrified and - and I hate what I am, and how I see everything now; I hate that I don’t know how to keep myself under control. I hate that I come in here to cry. I don’t know; I don’t understand. I’m not - I don’t - ” Gabriel used his free hand to cover his face. “Everything is wrong with me.”

“But in what universe are you not supposed to be scared and upset and confused after everything that happened to you?”

Gabriel shook his head. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I don’t know.” He felt tears glide over his cheeks and kept his face hidden as best he could with the one hand.

“Well,” Sam said, “If anybody would know, don’t you think it’d be you?”

Gabriel didn’t reply.

“Look.” Sam’s voice was gentle. “I really think you should consider swallowing your pride once in a while and maybe pushing back against your own instincts. Don’t bury yourself in whatever it is Asmodeus put into your head.”

Gabriel gave a strangled laugh and slid his hand from his face, forgetting for a moment that Sam could see the tears. “Is that really what you think? That my instinct is to hide and not come running to you? Sam, the only instincts I ever have tell me to throw myself at your feet and grovel.”

“Grovel? For what?”

“For understanding. For affection. For touch. I don’t know; all I can tell you is I need something from you and I have to push myself in the opposite direction so that I don’t disgust you. And so that I don’t get cozy, because that could be taken from me so fast. The number of times he laughed at me, Sam, or kicked me in the face because I didn’t stop crying when he told me to …”

Sam looked repulsed. “Gabriel, I would never do that to you!”

“He used to say, ‘I wish you could get a glimpse of yourself; even you wouldn’t believe you were looking at an archangel. You know what you are, don’t you? You’re a roach with a busted leg and guts all over the floor. You’re lucky I don’t just squish the life out of you here and now.’”

“Yeah,” said Sam, “Okay. Stop. I don’t think that about you; none of us think that. Don’t trust anything he told you. The guy was a monster.”

“Well, so is this thing inside of me, Sam. This thing that tells me to go looking for help - this thing that makes me so afraid and panicked and desperate - it’s insatiable and trying to feed it just makes it hungrier.”

“With him it would have. Yes. Because you tried to get what you needed and he didn’t let you have anything. If you really wanna look at it like that, as something that needs to be fed - I mean, what are you supposed to think if it’s always been starved?”

Gabriel couldn’t think of a response.

“I’m tired,” he said at last. “I feel sick and exhausted. I’m not - ” He leaned against Sam, who released Gabriel’s hand to put an arm around him. “I just don’t feel well at all.” He turned to press his face into Sam’s shoulder.

“This has been a hard time,” Sam agreed. “I know that. Trust me, I know. And that isn’t your fault.”

“I should be - ”

“Who’s holding you to anything, huh? You’re not supposed to be any one way about this. Really.”

Gabriel almost asked, Then why isn’t it acceptable for me to lock myself away? Then he thought better of it, because Sam had been right: it wasn’t like Gabriel to make himself unknown. He had run away, certainly - but he had not remained in the shadows. Gabriel had never kept himself entirely hidden. Never.

He didn’t often think of who he had been before his imprisonment. For all he knew, that version of himself was the one Asmodeus hated most, the version that had deserved the most punishment.

But the thought that Gabriel might never get that part of himself back, the possibility that Asmodeus had forced him into wanting to stay hidden - somehow this notion flooded him with horrified grief that came on like a surge of nausea. He didn’t miss whatever it was he had been - at least, he didn’t think he missed it, although since he deliberately paid so little attention he couldn’t be sure - but the absence of something that had made him who he was suddenly felt unbearable.

The tears came silently, blurring his vision and stealing his voice. The knot in his throat stung like needles and tightened his chest, so that he had trouble breathing again.

I’ll never get that back, Gabriel thought. It belongs to Asmodeus now.

Sam pulled him in closer and Gabriel grabbed onto him, afraid that Sam would let go. He remembered moments like this with Asmodeus - clinging to him in exactly the same way. It was only when Sam muttered, “I know, I know it’s rough; I know,” did Gabriel realize that he could distinguish between the two experiences.

Gabriel heard himself make a horrible, choked groan into Sam’s shoulder. He gritted his teeth against the urge to scream - an urge that soon became too much and manifested not as a scream but as fractured moaning.

“I know,” Sam murmured again. “I know. But it’s gonna be all right. You’re doing just fine, I promise.”

Gabriel tried to speak, but the words slid into each other and ricocheted off of each breath so that nothing could be understood.

“What?” Sam asked.

“I - I can’t,” Gabriel sobbed. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Stop. I can’t stop. I’m trying. I’m sorry.”

“Nobody’s telling you you have to stop. Especially not me. Take whatever time you need.”

“I don’t know.” Gabriel shuddered in Sam’s grasp. “I can’t - can’t stop.”

“Then don’t. Nothing wrong with that.”

“No, I want - I need - I can’t stop; I need it to - ” He was gasping, choking. “Because it won’t do - won’t change anything, and I need it to stop.”

“Don’t think about that. Just relax. I’m here. You’re safe.” Sam paused, then added, “I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I just wanted to check on you because - ”

“Because you knew I was already upset.” Gabriel gave a shaky laugh. “Because you knew that I - that this was - ”

Somehow Gabriel couldn’t say it, but perhaps Sam understood: Gabriel had needed this, or something like this, to remind him that he was no longer in Hell. That there was no pain, no punishment, no derision. There was no clawing at the bars of a filthy cell and howling into a damp chamber full of bloodthirsty phantoms. Certainly, there was self-disgust; there was shame just as powerful as any he had felt with Asmodeus - but there was no fear.

Did that mean he truly would never be able to stop?

Gabriel pressed his face deeper into Sam’s shoulder.

Even if I can -

“All right there?” Sam asked.

- this will still happen again.

“I’m so sorry,” Gabriel whimpered.

“No.”

“I am. I really am.”

“What for?”

“For all the times you might have to see this.”

“Hey, no, come on.”

Gabriel didn’t ask whether Sam meant Come on, it’s not gonna happen again or Come on, of course you don’t have to be sorry. He was afraid of the answer.

“Think about it this way,” Sam said after a while. “If it were one of us - ”

“I know, Sam.” Gabriel closed his eyes. “But it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

There was a knock at the door. Gabriel wrenched himself away from Sam.

“No one else needs to see,” he explained.

“Okay.” Sam got to his feet. “Let me handle it, then.”

Whoever it was knocked a second time. “Gabriel?”

Dean.

Sam opened the door. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Nope. Because if he ain’t gonna take what’s left of the casserole then it belongs to me.”

Sam sighed. “Dean …”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, Sammy. But I did make the casserole.”

“He hasn’t eaten; can’t you just - ”

“It’s perishable. It’s a delicate recipe. Gabe!”

“Don’t,” Sam said quickly. “He’s - let me ask him.”

“It’s fine,” Gabriel said. He tried to speak loudly enough for Dean to hear, but his voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat and repeated, “It’s fine, Dean. Take it. I don’t need your germs.”

He heard Dean shift - perhaps trying to step inside. “Sounding a little rough there, bud.”

“Dean,” said Sam, “Go away.”

A pause. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Sam told him. “Just …”

In the silence that followed, Gabriel had the sense that Dean was trying to read whatever signals Sam might be sending.

“You know what?” Dean said at last. “I’m suddenly in the mood for burgers. Gabe feels up to it, he can have the casserole. So I guess I’ll, uh … I’ll catch you two later.”

“Yeah.” Sam sounded relieved. “All right. Thanks.” He closed the door.

“Thanks yourself,” Gabriel said as Sam came to sit down again. “No need for him to see me like this. But hey, Sam - you know I’m not trying to monopolize your time, right? Because you have a lot of other jobs besides babysitting a whiny recluse.”

“Man, you have got to stop talking about yourself that way. Besides, I don’t have anything more important right now.”

“What about the case in Connecticut?”

“We don’t even know if we there is a case.”

“So go do a little digging, find what you can find; maybe it’ll help you decide what you’ve got on your hands here.”

“Really. There’s nowhere I need to be.”

“Sam, I’m gonna feel better if you move on from what just happened without any fanfare, all right? My energy is shot. I think it’d be good for me to take a hot second to breathe and you to get done whatever work might lower the odds of you getting yourself bloodied up in some elitist New England suburb.”

Sam looked both surprised and hesitant. “Do you wanna come with me?”

“No. Just give me a few minutes and then I’ll … if I need you, I’ll get you. How’s that sound?”

Cautiously, Sam stood up. “If that’s really what you think would be helpful.”

“Yeah. Go. And thank you.” Gabriel glanced away. “You had a point.”

“About what?”

“About - come on, don’t make me say it. You know what.”

Sam considered him. Then he nodded, and Gabriel hoped he remembered: It’s not a one-man job.

“I’ll be close by,” Sam told him. “And please - don’t try to pretend, okay?”

“Fine. But I’m good, Sam. For now, I’m good.”

Sam remained in place for a few more seconds, contemplating whether to heed Gabriel’s request. Then he smiled, tentatively, and moved toward the exit.

“But you can leave the door open,” Gabriel called, and Sam did.

Gabriel could hear Dean, Cas, and Jack somewhere in another room - although he couldn’t be sure which one. He slid off of the bed and moved toward the sound. They were in the kitchen.

The three of them, seated around the table with bottles of beer (When did those melonheads start giving Jack alcohol? Gabriel wondered), all fell silent when they saw him.

“Hey fellas,” said Gabriel. “Got room for one more?”

#supernatural #fanfiction #sam winchester #gabriel #dean winchester #asmodeus #post-asmodeus sabriel feels #sabriel #gabriel/sam winchester #hurt/comfort #angst

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livia-dovehallow · 3 years

Text

shooting stars - gabriel lightwood & cecily herondale

A Gabrily Valentine’s Day! Set in a Modern AU. Read on AO3

Cecily had forced herself to remain cool and collected.

She shouldn’t be surprised that Gabriel, whom she’d been dating for a few months now, had asked her to join him at the football team’s starlight picnic on Valentine’s Day. There was to be a meteor shower that night; a very unique and romantic night for valentine’s indeed. She may or may not have totally enjoyed arriving to campus the week before to find Gabriel waiting by her first class with a small bouquet of flowers and her morning coffee and asked her to be his valentine. And she may or may not have smiled like an idiot for the rest of the day.

But she most definitely found herself now struggling to keep her racing heart under control. She’d never had a valentine before. Will had always scared off the admirers she had when they were children, much to her annoyance. It was only when she finally became an adult, and joined him at university, that she made it a point to blatantly ignore his protests whenever she went on a date. Not that any of those dates mattered until Gabriel Lightwood came along.

“You don’t have to go, you know,” said Will across from her at the dining room table. She sighed inwardly. If only she hadn’t been forced to live with her brother at university. Her life would be so much simpler. “You can watch the shower with us instead. Much more enjoyable.”

Cecily gave her brother an annoyed look. “Why would I voluntarily subject myself to hanging out with the three of you on Valentine’s Day when I have a perfectly good boyfriend who has asked me to spend it with him?”

Will grumbled over his dinner. “I wouldn’t describe him as ‘perfectly good’—“

“Will,” Tessa sighed, holding her head as if his voice had given her a massive headache. Cecily was sure it had. “Leave her alone. Gabriel is a perfectly nice boy who is taking her to a school event. I hardly think this is grounds for you to be ridiculous.”

“Everything is grounds for me to be ridiculous,” countered Will.

“Save yourself,” added Jem, looking at Cecily. “Get out while you can.”

There was a knock on the door. Cecily shot out of her seat and grabbed her bag. “I will do just that, Jem,” she said and gave a cheeky grin to her brother, who squinted his eyes at her over his fork. “Don’t wait up for me!” .

For the thousandth time that night, Gabriel made sure his hair was neat, there nothing in his teeth, and his clothes were acceptable.

He’d never had a valentine before, but he was excited for Cecily to be his. He was excited that she was his girlfriend at all. He was sure he had destroyed all his chances with his poorly developed flirting ability.

He blamed Gideon.

The door opened and Cecily stood in the light of the doorway. Gabriel’s breath went out of him. She was always incredibly beautiful, but it was obvious she had spent extra time on her look that evening. She smiled brightly at him. “Shall we go?”

Gabriel blinked himself back into the mortal plane. “We shall,” he answered, returning her smile. He held out his arm to her, like a proper gentleman. “You look particularly beautiful today,” he said. He had absolutely no idea where it came from.

Cecily closed the door behind her, effectively cutting off her brother in mid shout. Something about having her home early. “Do I not look particularly beautiful everyday?” she asked, a tease in her voice.

“I should just never speak again, shouldn’t I?”

“I rather enjoy it.” .

The field was spotted with blankets and couples, flowers and chocolates, and quite a few bottles of cheap champagne. Gabriel had ordered Cecily’s favorite dish from the best restaurant in town and carefully tucked it away in the picnic basket Sophie lent him. He swore that his soon-to-be sister-in-law was much more help in the relationship department than his brother was.

He’d also gotten her a box of her favorite chocolates from a small shop in town, owned by the Branwells, who’d always smiled knowingly at him since the first time Cecily dragged him in, gushing about the treats. He’d become a regular patron after that.

Gabriel lifted everything out of the picnic basket and glanced up to find Cecily holding out a box wrapped neatly with a perfectly tied bow. He blinked at her several times until she laughed. “Well, are you going to open it or stare at me until my arms get tired?”

“You got me something?” he asked in awe. Cecily only laughed again.

“Of course I did. I am not a freeloading girlfriend, you know.”

Gabriel smiled brightly and took the box from her, eagerly opening it as if he was a child at Christmas. He froze once he realized what it was. “Cecily, you didn’t.”

She grinned. “Oh yes, I did.”

Gabriel lifted the brand new cleats out of the box, perfectly sized and exactly the ones he’d had his eye on for weeks. He’d never even mentioned to Cecily that he’d wanted to get a new pair, let alone this exact one. He gaped at her, his eyes flickering between her and the shoes. “How—“

“I am a fantastic girlfriend,” she stated, her eyes shining. “That is how.”

“Fantastic is an understatement!” He threw the box aside and immediately kicked his sneakers off to try on the cleats. He could hear Cecily laughing beside him as he hurried to tie the laces. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Cecily playfully shoved his arm. “Are you saying you didn’t like my Christmas present?”

Gabriel turned to her with a shy smile. “I was too nervous to tell you that I don’t like seafood.”

“Gabriel!” Cecily gasped. “Then why did you eat that whole plate?”

“Because you bought it for me.”

Cecily dropped her shoulders and smiled at him. “You’re sweet.”

Heat filled Gabriel’s face but the stupid grin on his face remained. “Now I feel silly with what I got you.”

Cecily looked down at the picnic, with their plates and chocolates and flowers neatly arranged. She looked back up at him. “If this is silly, then please, keep being silly.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, making the heat in his face grow warmer. “It’s romantic that you remembered my favorites and brought me to a starlight picnic to watch a meteor shower.”

Until he met Cecily, no one had ever called him a romantic before. He quite liked it, actually. And he found that he didn’t care if everyone else knew about it, too. .

“Look at this!” Will exclaimed, shoving his phone at Tessa and Jem. “I don’t want to see this!”

Tessa rolled her eyes. On his screen was his Instagram feed, of which the most recent post was from Cecily, smiling brightly at the camera while Gabriel kissed her forehead, captioned simply with a heart emoji. She thought it was rather sweet.

Jem had another idea. He turned his own phone toward Will, showing Gabriel’s post. It was of Cecily, surrounded by dinner, chocolates, and flowers, the same bright smile on her face as if she had been in mid laugh. It was a rather good picture of Cecily, indeed. Will scowled.

“This—This is why I don’t follow him!”

“’Isn’t she lovely,’” Jem quoted from the caption. Tessa awed.

“That’s so sweet!” She exclaimed.

Will’s scowl deepened. “I don’t want to see that either.”

“What?” Jem teased. “You don’t think your sister is lovely?”

Will huffed. “Of course she is,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I want to see him saying it. I may vomit.”

A dull roar of chatter settled across the football field. Cecily, after happily consuming every last drop of her plate and chocolates, made herself comfortable in Gabriel’s arms. She liked the feeling; his arms were long and well-muscled, engulfing her relatively small body in warmth and comfort. She was a strong, independent lady, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to enjoy a bit of cuddling.

She thought about how jealous she’d been of Will for the longest time, having not one but two people he could be with. They were kind to her, of course, but it was not the same as having someone like them for herself. She’d always been a romantic.

It was only an added bonus that being with Gabriel made Will short circuit.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Cecily asked suddenly after a long but comforting silence.

Gabriel paused. “Do you?”

“Yes.” He lifted her head gently and slid his arm and a pillow underneath it before laying it back down. “Soulmates need not always be romantic. They can be platonic as well. Some people are lucky enough to find both in their lives. But I think the luckiest ones are the ones who find both in the same person.”

She bit her lip. She was definitely being obvious about her thoughts, but she hoped it wasn’t too forward. Gabriel brushed his thumb against her arm, which was reassuring. “I’ve never thought about it that way,” he answered. “Platonic soulmates, I mean. It makes sense, though. What made you believe?”

Cecily smiled gently toward the stars. “My parents. I’ve always believed in soulmates because of them.” A star shot across the sky, growing closer to the impending shower. “I don’t think anyone else on earth could have been better suited for them than each other.”

Gabriel’s chest rose and fell beneath her shoulder, his arm warm around her. “I admire your parents,” he said, vibrating her body with this voice; and not just because she was laying partially on top of him. “I guess I didn’t think I believed in soulmates until I met you.”

Cecily’s breath hitched in her throat. Of course she had wanted him to say that, but she didn’t expect that he would. “You’re only saying that,” she whispered.

“Am not,” he retorted. She could hear the smile in his voice. Cecily bit her lip again. A nervous habit. “So many things have changed in my life in the past year that have entirely changed my outlook on the world. It wasn’t easy to learn that my father had cheated on my mom before she died and still be open enough to believe in soulmates. But you…” His arm tightened around her. “I met you. And Gideon proposed to Sophie. And I met your parents.”

“Gideon is quite lucky to have Sophie,” said Cecily. “Sophie is a very lovely person.”

“I know,” Gabriel laughed. “That bastard better not screw it up.”

Cecily smiled and moved closer to him, pressing her body as close to him as she could get while they lay on their backs looking up at the sky. Gabriel shifted beneath her to pull her pillow closer. “Are you cold?” he asked her.

“Ella, Will, and I used to lay out in the fields in Wales and watch the stars at night,” Cecily whispered instead of answering him. Gabriel fell silent, but she knew very well he was listening. “We lived so far out in the country that the city lights never blocked out the stars. It was my favorite time; just the three of us.” A tear streaked down Cecily’s cheek involuntarily. “I haven’t watched the stars since she died.”

“Cecy—“

“I am glad to watch them again,” she continued. She felt around the blanket until she found his hand and squeezed it tight. “With you.”

“She must have been an incredible person. You and your family only ever speak highly of her.”

Cecily nodded. “She was definitely much less of a pain in the ass than Will was.” She imagined her brother now, laying on the roof of their apartment building with Tessa and Jem, watching the same stars she was; both of them sharing the same memory of Ella. “No one will ever replace Ella for me, but I must admit it was nice to meet Tessa when Will first brought her home. She was kind to me. She even helped me prank Will the first holiday she was with us and helped me clean my bathroom when my period came early.” Gabriel’s hands engulfed hers and slowly played with her fingers as she spoke, calming her. “She knew that Will and I were close and made an effort to get to know me; I had forgotten what it felt like to have a sister. I am grateful to Tessa.”

“It seems that even Will is capable of making good decisions on occasion,” Gabriel commented, making Cecily laugh. He shifted again beneath her and suddenly Cecily was engulfed in a large blanket. She craned her neck upward to look at Gabriel, who was only smiling and rolling her into the blanket.

“Are you trying to make me into a burrito?” Cecily asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Of course not,” he answered, bringing his arms about her once more. “Obviously you are a taquito.”

Cecily called him a not-so-romantic name in Welsh, but her heart was happy. She did feel much warmer under the blanket with her head on his shoulder. She felt at peace. “I understand how you feel, though,” he added after a moment. “Granted, Tatiana is younger, but we were never truly close. And I lost my mother so young, I didn’t understand what having genuine affection was like. I thought all fathers were like mine. I only ever had him and Gideon show me how to be. Gideon was not the same person he is now before he studied abroad.”

“He changed,” Cecily whispered, digging her arm out from beneath the blankets to lay her hand over his heart. “As did you. There isn’t anything wrong with that.”

Gabriel looked down at her; his eyes, his green, green eyes making her heart skip a beat. “Spain and Sophie helped Gideon feel comfortable being his actual self. For me, it was Gideon and you.”

“I like this Gabriel,” she whispered, her eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips. “You’re happier. I like that.”

Gabriel inhaled deeply, his eyes never leaving hers. “I love you,” he breathed.

Cecily’s heart raced, her eyes widening. She’d imagined him saying those words to her in the privacy and comfort of her own mind. She’d known, perhaps all along, that she loved him. He made her feel special, beautiful, and strong. He never once made her feel inferior or small—his jokes about her height excluded. Being with him made the rough seas of her life calm. She was happy. She loved him.

And he just told her he loved her.

He had begun to grow nervous at her silence, clearing his throat in attempt to clear the tension. Tell him you love him, idiot! Cecily screamed at herself, but her throat had closed, thick with emotion. She did what she needed to do. She pulled his head down to her and kissed him.

There was no hesitation from him in his response. He kissed her back, his hands pressed gently against her back, holding her to him. Cecily hadn’t even noticed she was crying until their kiss began to taste salty and Gabriel pulled away, his forehead still pressed against hers. “Cecy?” he asked, worried. “I’m—“

“I love you,” she said, cutting him off before he could apologize to her for doing nothing wrong. He stared at her. “I love you, too.”

A brilliant smile grew across his face, erasing his anxious expression. He released a long breath and laughed. “Oh, god, I thought I had scared you off. It came out of me, I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you for so long—“

Cecily shook her head. “Do stop apologizing for telling me you love me,” she teased. “I’ll start to believe you regret it.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, the panic back. “No!” he said quickly. “No, I don’t regret it! Not one bit. I do love you. I love you. A lot, actually.”

She buried her face against his neck and ran her fingers through his ever-tousled hair. “Then don’t let me go,” she whispered. His grip tightened.

“I don’t plan on it,” he said.

A wave of awes and cheers rose from the crowd around them on the field. The meteor shower had begun, lighting up the sky. Cecily kept her eyes locked with Gabriel’s. He smiled at her. “I do hope this means your sister approves of me.”

Cecily laughed, the pain of missing Ella and the joy that she had Gabriel in her life to share her thoughts. She turned to look at the stars. “You know, I think she just might.”

The porch light was bright when Gabriel walked Cecily to the door of her and Will’s apartment. She was draped in his jacket, despite her protests. “You’re smaller. Less mass. You get colder than I do,” had been Gabriel’s response. She was stubborn, but he could be too. Even now he was refusing to take it back. Secretly, Cecily was glad.

“I had fun,” she told him, smiling happily. “This was a very nice Valentine’s Day.”

Gabriel looked relieved. “I had fun, too.” He hesitated then, which told Cecily exactly what he wanted to do.

“Kiss me,” she said, not as a request but a stern demand. Gabriel’s smile morphed into a small laugh.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded and dipped low. The moment his lips met hers, the porch light began flickering.

Cecily ignored it but Gabriel pulled back, amused. “I wager we have peeping Toms.”

“More like a single peeping Will,” she muttered. She lifted her hand toward the door and flipped off her brother. “I suppose I should see you off now, before Will comes out here with empty threats.”

Gabriel laughed. “All right,” he said. “I’ll leave when you’re inside.”

“The door is two feet away.”

“It will make me feel better,” he answered assuredly. “Please indulge my masculinity.”

Cecily would never admit it, but her heart fluttered. She knew Gabriel didn’t care much for keeping masculine appearances anymore, but it set butterflies in her stomach to know he wanted to make sure she was truly home before leaving. Her father would like that.

“All right,” she agreed. She pressed her key into the lock and turned it, but paused before opening the door. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Goodnight,” she said. “Do tell me when you’re home.”

His eyes brightened. “I will,” he said. “Goodnight, Cecy.”

The door swung open and Cecily yelped. She was yanked in the doorway before she could swear. “Take care then!” her brother called before shutting the door. Cecily twisted her arm out of his grip before unleashing a sea of curses and swears at him, a mix of English and Welsh, all angry and annoyed.

“Can I not have my own life, Will?” she shouted. “You parade Tessa and Jem around here as if they live here but I can’t even wish Gabriel a goodnight on the porch without you ruining it?” She turned to Tessa and Jem, who remained seated at the kitchen table. “No offense.”

“None taken,” they both replied, lifting their mugs to their lips.

She turned back to Will, who looked a bit surprised. “Mam and Dad like Gabriel, and Ella would have, too. What is your problem? Gabriel has tried to make amends with you and treats me well. Better than well, actually. Not once has he ever made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe. Quite the opposite actually. You’re lucky Mam and Dad help us pay rent because otherwise I would have never moved in with you.”

At that, she threw her keys onto the counter and marched to her bedroom. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of slamming her door, so instead she left it wide open.

Fifteen minutes later, she received her text from Gabriel assuring her he was home, safe and sound, being interrogated by his brother and Sophie. She smiled at her phone. She thought about telling him about her blow up at Will when a soft knock sounded at the door. She glanced up to see Tessa standing there, holding her mug, smiling gently. “May I come in?”

Cecily nodded, shooting Gabriel a quick I love you before tossing her phone to the side. She hoped she’d wake to a similar message in the morning.

Tessa came and sat beside her on the bed. “I’m sorry about Will,” she started. “We tried to convince him to to go bed earlier but he refused.”

“Thanks for trying,” Cecily grumbled, kicking her blanket with her feet.

Tessa set down her mug and turned to face Cecily. “I am not Will,” she said happily. “And I, for one, would love to hear how the picnic went. Did you enjoy it?”

Cecily turned to her and released the tension in her muscles. Tessa really was like a sister. “I did,” she said, a smile growing. “It was everything I’d hoped it would be.”

Tessa’s eyes widened. “I see that smile,” she said, bouncing. “Tell me, Cecily, or I swear I will force it out of you!”

“Shh!” Cecily hissed, glancing at the doorway. “The last thing I need or want is my brother barging in here demanding to know as well.”

Tessa nodded, but her smile and eyes were eager. “Tell me.”

Cecily bit her lip, supressing an idiot smile. “He told me he loves me.”

Tessa grabbed a pillow and began smacking Cecily with it, whispering-screaming in excitement. “Cecy!” Whack. “I’m so—“ Whack. “—happy for you!”

“Wait,” Cecily said, and Tessa paused, holding the pillow in mid-whack. “There’s more. I told him I love him, too.”

WHACK.

Gabriel waltzed through the front door feeling on top of the world. The moment the door shut, Gideon and Sophie’s heads popped up over the sofa. “How did it go?” Sophie asked eagerly.

“Did you tell her?” Gideon added.

Gabriel grinned. “Yes, I told her. And she said it back.”

Sophie screamed and jumped over the couch, crushing Gabriel in a hug. “Look at you! A new man in love!”

Gideon smiled at him, amused. “Proud of you,” he said. “Didn’t think you had the guts to actually do it.”

“Thank you for your faith in me, brother,” Gabriel answered. “At least Sophie believed in me.”

Sophie let go of him and nodded, smiling happily at him. She’d always been quite supportive of him ever since he apologized to her for being an ass for so long. “Well, I knew that you would tell her intentionally or not. The two of you are much alike.”

Gabriel and Gideon both protested this statement. Then, Gabriel remembered. “Shit,” he said under his breath, digging his phone out. “I promised her I’d tell her when I got home.”

Gideon pointed at him accusingly. “You’re whipped!”

“And you’re engaged,” Gabriel retorted, retreating to his bedroom, his eyes glued to the screen, typing his message to Cecily.

Ding.

I love you, she replied.

Gabriel immediately updated his phone screen to the new photo of her he’d taken that night and stared at it before writing out his response.

Gideon told me I’m whipped. He isn’t wrong. Goodnight, Cecy. I love you.

I take requests! Shoot me a message and I’ll be happy to indulge.

@tsccreatorsnet || Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fic posts.

#gabriel lightwood #cecily herondale #gabrily #the infernal devices #tsc #tid #clockwork princess #modern au #gabriel and cecily #will herondale #tessa gray #jem carstairs #gideon lightwood #sophie collins #cecily lightwood #shadowhunters #gabriel and cecily lightwood #maggie writes

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dlwritings · 4 years

Text

Firecracker Soul | Dean Winchester

Chapter 9 - Robert De Niro

pairing - mob!Dean x teacher!ofc

word count - 3,790

warnings - language, attempted sexual assault, fist fight, blood

additional notes at the end

(previous)

The next morning, Alice woke up around 7:00. She sighed and rolled over to grab her phone. She'd be meeting with Christine at 9:00 like she always did, so she figured she probably had an hour or so before she needed to head home to get ready. Still, she didn't want to fall back asleep, so she decided to roll out of bed. Dean was facing away from her, so he didn't notice her move. At least she didn't think he did.

"Why do you keep trying to sneak out on me?" he mumbled, rolling onto his back and looking over at her. She smiled and laid back down, resting her head on his chest.

"Why're you such a light sleeper?" she retorted.

"I told you," he said. "I'm always on edge." She rolled her eyes with a smile and pushed herself out of bed.

"I'm gonna go make some coffee," she said. "I've got to head home in an hour. I meet up with Christine for breakfast at nine."

Dean sighed tiredly and got out of bed as well. "Sounds good," he said.

"Dean," she laughed, "go back to bed."

"Nah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I won't be able to fall back asleep without you here."

"Hmm, I never pegged you as clingy," she teased.

"God, I know," he said. "You really bring out the worst in me."

The day was busy for both Alice and Dean. Dean had some loose ends to tie up with a couple deals, and Alice had to get groceries after breakfast with Christine.

Breakfast was as nice as it always was. When Alice asked Christine if anything interesting happened at work, she had a response. "Yeah, actually," she said. "This guy got brought in, and-" She shuddered. "-it was unlike anything I've seen in ages."

"What happened?" Alice asked.

"He jumped out of a window I guess," she said.

"But he survived?" she pressed.

"Yeah," she said. "Well, I mean, he was alive when he got there. They performed surgery, but there was nothing they could do."

"Wow," Alice said. "That's so sad."

"I mean, yeah," she said, "but I guess the guy was an asshole."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he was a John Doe when he came in, so they had to run his prints. Turns out he's all over the system for rape charges."

"Damn."

"Yeah," Christine added. "People can just be so sick. And this guy was young too. Like, under 30, and -ugh- he was handsome. I mean, according to his license picture and mug shot."

"Oh my god," Alice said with a slight laugh. "You're so messed up."

"I'm just saying!" she said. "Asian, dark hair, dark eyes, muscular-"

"Wait, what?" Alice said.

"What?" Christine repeated. Alice thought for a minute, then shook her head.

"Nothing," she said. "Nevermind. I'm overthinking."

"What?" she pressed.

"I don't know," she mumbled. "He kind of sounds like the guy who attacked me in the alley the other night."

"Really?" Christine said.

"Like I said," she said quickly, "that 100% could just be a coincidence."

"Dude," she said, "Asians only make up, like, 1% of Topeka's population. The chances of it not being him-"

"Okay," Alice said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. This is too weird."

"Alright," Christine said. "We'll drop it."

Alice forced herself not to think about the guy for the rest of breakfast. She didn't want to dwell on something that probably wasn't even true. Deep down, she was sure her brain just wanted closure for what had happened. This guy dying was perfect closure, even if it wasn't real.

When she left breakfast, she headed to the grocery store. It had been a while and her pantry was in desperate need of a restock. She was in and out of the store quickly and headed home with an armload of groceries.

She tried to balance her groceries while also unlocking her front door, and it was not working. She dropped one of the bags -which luckily only had some chips in it- and groaned in annoyance. "Hey, you need some help?"

She turned around and looked gratefully at Brent. "Yes," she said. "Thank you." He took a few bags from her hands so she could unlock her front door. He followed her in with her groceries and closed the door behind him.

Across town, Dean was with Cas and Gabriel. Things were not going well. Gabriel owned a business that currently owed Dean a lot of money. Their deal was simple. Gabriel's company mainly sold illegal products, but Gabriel couldn't get the illegal products on his own. Some of Dean's soldiers were responsible for gathering the products and giving them to Gabriel, and then Gabriel would pay Dean. Dean, in turn, wouldn't rat him out to the cops or kill him. Plus, Dean would make some money.

The money was the current problem. Gabriel was behind on nearly two weeks' payment. Dean didn't usually accept that, but he had been working with Gabriel for a while. Still, two weeks was pushing it. A lot.

Dean's fists were covered in blood, and Cas was standing beside him with his arms crossed. Gabriel was struggling to keep his head up. His breaths were labored, his eye was swollen, his jaw was slack, and he was a few punches away from unconsciousness.

Just as Dean was about to throw another punch, his phone rang, and Gabriel lifted his bloody head. "You gonna get that?" he asked, a smirk on his face. Dean sighed and punched him again -Gabriel let out a pained groan- before grabbing his phone to see that Alice was calling. He took a few steps away to get some privacy.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said when he answered the phone. As soon as she let out a shaky breath, his heart dropped. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry. I know you're busy. It's just-"

"Never too busy for you," Dean said without hesitation. "What's wrong? You sound like you've been crying."

"Can you come over?" she asked. Her voice broke at the end like she was still trying not to cry.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Dean said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just-" She cut herself off.

"Alright, it's okay, it's okay," Dean said. "I'm on my way."

Dean hung up the phone and rushed back over to where Cas was with Gabriel. Gabriel's face was covered in blood, and his arms were still tied around the chair he was sitting on. "I gotta go," Dean said, rolling his sleeves back down and putting on his suit coat.

"What do you want me to do with him?" Cas said, motioning to Gabriel. Gabriel looked up at Dean, mustering all the energy he could to smile sarcastically at Dean. His hand reached for his gun, but his fingers twitched just before he could touch it.

Alice needs you.

He sighed. "I'm giving you 48 hours," Dean said to Gabriel. "You can't get me my money in 48 hours, I'm coming back for you."

"Not a problem!" Gabriel said. "I can do that."

"Dean-"

"Untie him," Dean said, cutting Cas off. "Go back to the bunker and add this to the books."

Cas knew better than to question him further, so he nodded, and Dean left the men alone. He all but ran to the Impala and pulled out of the parking spot with a screech of his tires. By the time he got to Alice's apartment, seven minutes had passed since he hung up the phone with her. He pressed the buzzer to her apartment and waited anxiously for her to let him in. "Hello?" her voice said, sounding shaky through the intercom system.

"It's me, sweetheart," Dean said. She buzzed him in, and Dean took the stairs two at a time to get to her front door. He tried the doorknob, assuming she left it open for him, but he found it locked. He furrowed his eyebrows and knocked softly.

"Who is it?" she asked, an audible shake in her voice.

"It's Dean," he said, confused that she even had to ask. He heard her sigh as she unlocked the door and undid the chain lock. She opened the door and let him in. As soon as Dean closed it, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close to her. "Hey, hey, I'm right here," Dean said. "You're okay. You're okay."

She was crying as Dean helped her into her over to the couch and pulled her onto his lap. She sobbed against his chest, gripping his shirt in her fist. He shushed her softly and pressed kisses to her temple as he brushed his hand through her hair in an attempt to calm her down. Once her breathing had returned to normal and she was no longer crying, Dean asked, "Can you tell me what happened?"

He pressed another kiss to her temple in hopes that it would get her to open up. It worked, because he heard her let out a shaky breath. "My neighbor, Brent," she began, "he, I thought we were friends, you know?" He nodded, and she continued. "I, I was just bringing my groceries inside, and he came over to help me. When he came inside and helped me put everything down, he wouldn't leave. And, and he kept getting closer to me, and I asked him over and over again to leave, but he wouldn't. He called me a tease because, because I guess my dress is too short? He just, he said I always walk around like I'm asking for it but I never, I never let him touch me." She swallowed, and it was doing everything in Dean's power not to push her off of him and go give Brent a piece of his mind. "He, he kept touching me and, and squee- squeezing my breasts."

Her voice became a whisper as she told him what happened, and he could tell she was feeling embarrassed, which he hated. Why did she carry the burden of someone else hurting her like it was her fault?

"And, I thought he was going to stop," she said. "I kept telling him to stop, and I really thought he would. But then, then he, he lifted my dress and, and ripped my underwear off." Dean's fist clenched, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, trying to keep himself from exploding. "I could reach one of my empty wine bottles," she said, speaking of the small collection she liked to keep for decoration. "So I grabbed it, and I hit him on the head and the bottle broke. He started bleeding and got really mad, so he slapped me and left. And then, then I called you." She looked back up at Dean with wide, red eyes that were brimmed with tears. "I swear, I wasn't trying to be a tease. I didn't think about my dress and, and I dropped something and-"

"Hey, hey," Dean said, wiping away some of her tears. "This is not your fault. Your dress is fine. You can wear whatever you want. Nothing gives him the right to your body."

She felt so violated and scared and betrayed. She had known Brent since she moved in, and while that may've only been a little over a month ago, she grew to trust him. He was her friend. Why did she have such a bad track record with men?

Yet there she was, latching onto yet another man's body. How much did she really know about Dean anyway? Sure, they had been on a few dates and he treated her well, but Brent had been nice too. So had Greg. Who was to say Dean wouldn't turn out the same way?

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hanging her head.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Dean said. She sniffed, and he pressed another kiss to the top of her head.

"I'm so sick of being hurt like this," she said. "Why does this keep happening to me?"

"I don't know," he whispered. He wished he could make everything -all the hurt and pain in her life- go away. Instead, he just said, "I'm gonna make sure nothing bad ever happens to you again, okay?"

Alice was quiet. Dean wondered if he said something wrong. If he took one step too far and sounded creepy. "What do you do, Dean?" you asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked. She bit her upper lip.

"I know you say you're a businessman," she said, "and that you're helping Sam and Jess with their law firm, but-" She hesitated and met his gaze. "-I'm not dumb. I feel like businessmen don't just own apartment buildings and restaurants. And, and what about Gabriel? He was, he was scared of you. And at the bowling alley, people were watching us, but not us. Like, they were watching you like they knew you and they looked like they were scared of you too." She hesitated. "You're not just a rich businessman, are you? You're something more. I know it."

Dean looked away from her. He knew this day would come, but maybe he was being naive trying to convince himself otherwise. He could lie. He could weave more details into this life he had fabricated for himself so long ago. That's what he always did when someone got too close to him. He lied and lied until he couldn't lie anymore and all that was left to do was push them away. But Alice was different. He didn't want to push her away. But what if telling her the truth just made her run? He didn't want to lose her. He couldn't lose her. But he couldn't force her to stay.

Dean pulled away from her and rubbed his beard with his hand. He looked at her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I want you to know," he said softly, "that I would never hurt you, okay? And I would never let anyone else hurt you."

"Dean," she said slowly. "What aren't you telling me?"

He let out a heavy breath and stood up from the couch to go get a beer from the fridge. He was putting off the inevitable because he didn't know how to start. Alice didn't move from the couch, but she did turn to look at him. He popped the beer open, took a long drink from it, then set it back down to grip the counter in his hands while he hung his head. She heard him take a deep breath before looking back up at her. "There is no good way for me to say this," he said, "so I'm just gonna say it." She nodded, and he licked his lips. "There are three mob families in this area: Crowley's, Lucifer's-" He hesitated. "-and mine."

She turned, moved to sit on her knees, and rested her arms on the back of the couch. "I, I don't understand," she stuttered. "Mob families? So you're a mob boss? Like, like Robert De Niro?"

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What? Like the actor?"

"Doesn't he play a mob man in a bunch of movies?" she asked.

"Are you serious?" he said. "That's how you're responding to this?"

"W-What am I supposed to say?" she asked. "I, I don't, I don't know what you want me to say."

"I mean, do you have questions?" he asked. "Like, how my life differs from Goodfellas?"

Alice was quiet for a moment, genuinely thinking through what she wanted to ask. "Lucifer?" she finally repeated. "Like the devil?" Dean took another sip of his beer and walked back over to her. He kept some space between the two of them just in case she was a little more freaked out than she was letting on.

"It's a nickname," Dean said. "His real name's Nick, but if he catches you calling him that-" He hesitated, and she nodded, getting the picture.

"So," she said, still choosing her words carefully, "are you in charge?"

"Of my people," Dean said with a nod. "Crowley has his own men and so does Lucifer."

"How many people do you have?"

"Mm," he hummed. "21?"

"21?" she repeated. Dean nodded. "Anyone I've met?"

"Just Cas," he said. "Sam got out a few years ago."

"Got out?" she repeated.

He nodded. "Once Lex was born, he wanted out. He didn't think it was responsible of him to be in the mob when he had a wife and daughter to support. I agreed."

"Mm," she hummed in understanding. "So, you and the other mobs-" Dean grinned a little at her wording but let her continue. "Do you fight each other?"

He hesitated, unsure of how much he should tell her. He picked up his beer bottle and took another drink, zoning out and staring into space as he thought. Alice reached over and poked his cheek with her finger, trying to get his attention. He looked at her. "I don't want you lying to me," she said, her voice sounding small. "I don't like being lied to."

Dean licked his lips and let out another sigh. "Lucifer's the worst between the three of us," he explained. "He wants complete monopoly over the area. He's been trying to gank me and Crowley for a while now. Sam too before he quit." She nodded in understanding. "It took one of Lucifer's men missing Crowley's head by an inch about a year ago to push Crowley over the edge," Dean continued, "He gave me a call and decided we'd have a better chance getting Lucifer out of the way if we worked together. I agreed."

"And you trust him?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Honestly, I've got nothing against Crowley. We both stay in our lane as much as we can. I mean, if his men got in my way, I wouldn't hesitate to-" He stopped, not wanting to say something that might scare her. He cleared his throat before continuing. "I figured we've got a common enemy. Might as well team up and see what we can do."

They were both quiet. Alice started nibbling on her thumbnail as she thought. She had no idea how to respond to everything. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't scared, but she also felt like she wasn't as scared as she was supposed to be. She did have one thought floating around her head though.

"Am I in danger?"

Dean set his beer down and reached his hand out for her to take. She did, and he pulled her so she straddled his waist. He put his hand on her cheek and rubbed his thumb against her cheekbone. "I will never let anything happen to you," he said. He opened his mouth only to close it again.

"But," she said, dragging the word out.

He sighed. "But, I can't lie to you. If people know who you are and know what you mean to me, they could try to use you to get to me or to get information out of you."

"Would they kill me?" she asked, nibbling her lower lip.

To be honest or to spare her?

"I think it would be worse," he told her. "I think they would hurt you until you cracked. Or until I did."

Alice was quiet for a long time, and Dean tried to give her time to process. When three minutes of complete silence went by, he had to speak. "Can you tell me what you're thinking?" he said. "You're being really quiet."

"It's a lot to process," she said.

"I know," Dean said. "And I understand if you want me to leave."

"No," she said quickly. "I don't. I-" She hesitated and met Dean's eyes for the first time since they started talking. She gently scratched her nails across his beard, and he moved her hand from his cheek to kiss her palm. "I feel like I'm supposed to run away," she whispered. "Like I'm supposed to be scared. But I'm not." Dean licked his lips, and she put her thumb between his eyebrows, trying to smooth out the worry wrinkles that had settled. He smiled softly as she placed a kiss to the spot when she moved her thumb.

"I'm never going to let anything happen to you," he whispered. "You never have to worry, okay?"

"I trust you, Dean," she said back. His smile still didn't meet his eyes, but he leaned forward and kissed her. When they pulled away from each other, Dean noticed she looked like she was thinking about something.

"What?" he asked.

"You remember that man who attacked me in the alley?" she asked. His jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Did you kill him?" Dean sighed and licked his lips.

"No," he said. She pressed her lips into a tight line, and for the first time, she was the one who lifted his chin to make him look at her.

"Don't lie to me," she said firmly. He closed his eyes, sighed again, then looked at her.

"I made an order to one of my men," he said. Her lips parted slightly in shock. "He was a bad guy, Alice. He had it coming to him."

"Dean," she said. "That's, that's crazy."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just, I lost control. Guys like that, they shouldn't get to just, just get away with that shit." She put her hand on his cheek again.

"You have to promise me not to kill Brent," she said.

He sighed. "Alice-"

"Dean, promise me," she said. "I'm, I'm mad too. And I'm scared and so hurt, but you cannot kill him."

"Okay, okay," he whispered, nodding his head as she dropped her hand. "I won't. But he's not gonna get away with this, okay?"

"Just please don't kill him," she whispered back, hanging her head.

"Alice," he said, lifting her chin now, "I promise you, I won't kill him."

"Okay," she said.

"I don't want this to change how much you trust me," he said. "If you don't want me to do something, I won't do it. And if you want me to do something-" He paused, stroking her cheek and smiling. "-anything-" She scoffed. "-I'll do it. You understand?"

She nodded. "I understand."

Dean smiled and kissed her again. "Alright," he said, squeezing her hips lightly. "You wanna go back to my place? Help with dinner tonight?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling back. "I gotta make sure you don't give them Chinese takeout."

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threeminutesoflife · 5 years

Text

Flaying a(n Albert) Fish

Pairings: Clint x Dark!Reader x Steve Summary: Reader extracts revenge against a monster. Warnings: 18+, dark reader, blood/gore, serial killer similar to Albert Fish- mentions of sexual assault and death against children- no description, home invasion, kidnapping, cannibalism, body parts, murder Word Count: 4.5k

Halloween Challenge- Are You Afraid of the Dark @barnesrogersvstheworld Thank you for hosting! Hope you have a fantastically Haunted and Happy Halloween!

prompt: #20 monster

“I would say sorry for not having smaller hands, since that’s what you prefer... and this’ll be the last time you feel anything warm on it...” you snarled at him coldly, “but we both know I’m not.”

Taking a step away from him, you twirled the hammer in your hand.

“Don’t forget to scream- just like they did. Because this is going to hurt,” you reeled the weapon back behind your head. “So. Very. Much.”

Deafening screams filled the house as you connected again and again, bludgeoning his depravity.

Bursts of air flared from your nostrils, while you tried to collect yourself and settle your breathing.

Blood dribbled down the end of the hammer adding to the growing puddle of inside-out remains between you both. Adrenaline slowed and your knuckles cracked as you jerkily loosened the grip on the hammer.

Tossing the weapon to the side, you eyed the new bastardized art piece. Blood spilled out, a waterfall between his legs. Tormented whimpers, broken sobs and dying struggles for breath; all his suffering brought a sense of warm achievement in your chest.

The police scanner bounced off your old Tower bedroom walls again.

You knew FRIDAY could simply stream the chatter, but there was something nostalgic about pushing buttons and twirling knobs.

You’ve listened to scans and phone calls, examined emails and files, plotted an idea of homegrown justice, and researched possible suspects. It was a haunting police case taking up your attention in between the missions. Maps and photos hugged your wall with notes crisscrossing over other various notes.

FRIDAY recorded the scans and police emails when you were away. Ever vigilant to highlight any details or new findings from the police mainframe about the intruder, who was preying on families with young children.

Which is where you read that the gags he placed between the children’s teeth- were all torn from what they determined to be one main source, a blanket. A dark line of all the better to hush them with came to your mind.

According to the notes, the gags' frayed ends matched each other when lined up. FRIDAY displayed the crime photos that showcased how the arrangement made an old, faded cartoon character emerge. Police thought the sexual intruder, dubbed the boogeyman, was ripping up his own childhood blanket to use in his assaults. One detective scribbled a possibility that the intruder's gags meant he was sentimental- and this was a way to intimately share himself and be closer to the victims.

You hoped the sentimental criminal slipped up on a small detail, perhaps overlooking the copyright year by the licensed character design. A small something to help narrow down his age, but unfortunately no. The print design was too timelessly popular and none of the victims left living could describe him.

And with no leads, the crimes continued. The boogeyman kept breaking into homes in the middle of the night to preform heinous acts. He threatened to kill the parents and siblings of the terrified children to keep them quiet and pliable.

Families were terrified for their children, scared their homes would be next. If victimizing the children out of their innocence wasn't monstrous enough, he'd hog tie them with duct tape and hide them away in their closets or stuff them into toy chests. Then he'd ransack the homes, randomly pocketing worthless items before leaving.

It was a grim thought you always had when reviewing the crime photos, it was like the children were his play things and he was simply plucking them off the floor, clearing them away when he was done with them. This monster needed to be stopped before he broke more toys and threw them away completely.

But it was always the same- until it wasn't.

Michael Robertson's small body recovered from river.

Steve was well-aware how this case was taking over your attention. From the smaller missions you traded or tried to give away to other teammates- to the many nights you kept the middle of his and Clint's bed empty.

Both men clearly remembered the cold shoulder you served them when Steve sent you out on a two week mission, pulling rank and ordering you to comply. Clint sided with him believing a break away from the case would help. As begrudgingly as you felt at the time, it did help to be away from the white noise of the scanners. Until FRIDAY sent you an urgent message- another child victimized a few days into the mission, this one resulting in death. His body found a day before you got back.

Breaking News: CHILD TAKEN, BODY FOUND.

Michael Robertson, age 6, kidnapped from home while parents slept. Killer removed boy's pajamas and laid them out on child's bed for parents to find next morning.

You knew you were losing yourself more and more in this police case, but with the hysteria emerging on the streets now that the boogeyman claimed another victim, one resulting in death, you expected additional branches of law force to step in soon. And you didn't want to deal with another player on the field.

You wanted this guy. He gave you something to sharpen your attention on and the want grew in you to strike him down. It was a tumor-like revenge. The team noticed you pulled away from evening dinners and movie nights. They began murmuring their concerns among each other and then to Steve and Clint.

While looking over more crime scene photos about the Robertson case, FRIDAY announced Wanda would be making cottage pie for dinner tonight. Glancing at your watch, 3pm, you mindlessly mumbled a 'no thank you' and then froze. Slapping the desk, you knocked an empty cup over onto mission reports you've been avoiding to fill out much to Steve's annoyance.

“FRIDAY, please bring up the old police notes about cottage- about home repairs or work crews. Wait, how far back did the police look?”

“The officers went back three years, Miss. No common links appeared.”

You scanned over the photos of children and their similar ages of 6 and 7. Would he have waited for more than three years to attack? He would have known the homes' layouts, he broke in so easily to each child's bedroom. If he did wait, for how long? Why wait so long?

Your gut was rarely wrong, and the home repair angle felt like something solid, “FRIDAY, please run all the family's credit cards and bank accounts to see if there were any repair companies or purchases done within the last five years.”

Looking at the youngest victims' age, Gabrielle Reyes with her toothy smile just turned 6, “If nothing, please try six.”

An electronic chorus poured in your room as computer alerts went off, reports fired across the screen.

A description and photo of self-employed contractor photo, Randall Williams, looked back at you.

FRIDAY ran off the newly found information. The victims' families hired his company in the past four to five years. Rachel Collins' home was his last before heading out of state. He was recently released five months ago from an out of state prison for a buffet of reasons, one being incident exposure.

“Miss, I took the liberty to run his payment history. He's been paying for a storage unit over the last eight years under a different name and P.O. Box number.”

You scoffed with a mix of thankfulness for Williams' laziness of leaving a trail and a curse that the repair history was not run back further in the beginning.

“Send me the address for the storage unit and his current address please, FRIDAY. And don't forget you're beautiful!”

Snatching your leather jacket and utility bag, you ran past Steve and Clint, who were folded against one another on the couch.

“I'll be back tomorrow. Don't wait up, my loves!” You called out to them over the action movie.

Clint and Steve stared at your figure fading quickly out the door, both pairs of eyes zeroing in on your large utility bag. They turned back towards each other and exchanged a knowing look. Steve dragged his hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

Unfolding himself from Steve, Clint kissed his cheek and patted his thigh, “I'm on it.”

Picking up his keys and jacket, Clint paused and took in Steve's concerned expression. “Hey, don't worry.”

Steve only sighed again as a reply and let his head hit the back of the couch. The sound of the door locking behind Clint drowned out the explosions on screen.

—

A fresh tank of gas, a new box of protein bars and a couple bottles of water later, you pulled into the storage facility. Stretching your limbs from the two hour drive, you took in the old property. It was run down with no foot traffic or desk clerk. The only camera you could see around the buildings was pointed at the office door, lens broken.

After grabbing your leather gloves and pulling the crowbar from the trunk, you went to work on the unit's lock.

Randall Williams reminded you of New York's grandfather serial killer, Albert Fish. Breaking into the storage container and shifting through his boxes, the incriminating photos he had of known and unknown victims were simply too hard to look at.

This man, this thing, was something that needed to be put down. The police were right in calling him a boogeyman. But they didn't know the accuracy of the nickname especially since it was once bestowed to Albert Fish himself.

You hoped Williams wasn't a cannibal, yet.

The young faces looked out at you from the photographs, some with tears and others with defiance. There so many, so many unrecognizable faces. You could feel the acid burn starting to rise in your chest. For a second, you wanted to talk yourself into believing these newly discovered victims were fake snuff photos he collected along the way, but you knew better and you saw the gags. Some with the same design used on the recorded victims. This was the man you’ve been looking for, and this man was a monster.

Eyes watered and the taste of bile rose in the back of your throat. With a shaky hand, you read a recipe of brown butter and sautéed onions with human flesh. A list of spices and measurements. Your memory flashed to the little Robertson boy with questionable wound and knife markings.

Flipping through the journal you read Williams’ comments next to the favored recipes and the preferred cooking techniques.

How long has this been going on? Your eyes darted to the stacks of photos with mystery faces.

There was a strange recipe of your own growing within you; ingredients of anger, sadness, disgust, revenge.

Laying the photos out on the cement floor, you surveyed the expanding collection of tragedy. You shuffled your feet across the ground and paused before each photo. 4x6, 5x7 and 8x10’s created a paper train of frozen mementos from each child’s nightmare. On the shelf, another box of negatives caught your eye.

Monster.

Your body felt heavier with each photo; guilt and sorrow for not stopping these events from happening, even if you never knew some occurred until now. You sent out an apology and prayer in your mind for them all.

“I’m fine. Be back in a few days. Love you, see you.” You quickly sent the text to Steve and Clint. Leaving you the grim photos on the ground, you pulled the storage door closed behind you. Pointing your car west, you drove off to deliver revenge and extract other things.

Randall Williams lived outside of a small town on a neighbor-less dirt road. Parking your car a safe distance away, you quietly made your way to his neglected looking home.

The house was quiet, dark and smelled sour. The sliding door was unlocked. Flipping the safety off your gun, you slowly slid it open. Suppose monsters don't have a lot to worry about.

Closing it behind you, you immediately covered your nose with back of your hand and tried to save your sense of smell from the pungent stench. The kitchen reeked of moldy food and ignored trash. You would have thought the home was abandoned, except the mail on the counter was stamped with this week's date.

Walking around, a calendar caught your attention. Next week's dates were circled and marked, Growing Dreams Day Care- install shelving. Biting your cheek, you tried to bury down the rage.

Creeping quietly in what you assumed to be the direction of the bedroom, you gingerly opened the door with your fingertips, gun ready in your other hand. Bathroom.

Squaring your shoulders, you made your way further down the hall. The second door held the right answer. There laying on his stomach, snoring in a pair of dirty briefs was the small statured, unaware boogeyman.

Three quick fast steps into the room, you came up to the bed and kicked the mattress. “Hey! Devil's Reject!”

Randall's eyes shot open and he flipped himself over to sit up.

CRACK!

You slammed the butt of your gun on his jaw. “Hurts, don't it?”

He let out an unearthly growl and groggily scrambled up, attempting to right himself to lunge at you. Bringing your boot up and kicking him back in his sternum, his head slammed against the wall and cracked the stained plaster.

“Nighty-night, fucker,” you smashed your gun against his face again.

Grabbing his legs, you pulled his unconscious, dirty body down the hallway. Dragging him through the kitchen, you were about to set him up at the kitchen table when you saw another door.

The door creaked open and basement steps greeted you, “Bingo.”

Bringing Randall's body around, you positioned him by the stairs and let him topple down the steps without a care.

Skipping down after him, you heaved Randall's body into position. After securing him to a chair, you took the time to exam the basement and survey his workspace until he woke.

You stared almost uninterested at the bound man before you. The toe of your boot lifted the lid of his unlocked tool box and knocked it open.

“So how’s the carpentry business?” an air of indifference in your question as you reached in and pulled out several hammers before spying a box of nails.

The man only muffled and grunted against the material wrapped around his mouth.

“Yeah, sorry about that gag I suppose,” you examined the different tools in your hands, flipping them from side to side testing their weight.

“Not the same blanket you tore off for your victims, but I did make sure to grab your dirtiest work rags. So please, wet it down real good and enjoy the taste.”

Standing up, you swung the hammer around, “Ah, this is the one.”

He eyed you with hatred as he rocked and rammed his body against the ropes in hopes to loosen them. Frantic sounds erupted deep from within his chest only to be stifled by the gag, when he realized the restraints wouldn’t give.

You hummed in pleasure at the trapped animal before you.

“Girl Scouts,” you nodded toward the knots on his body, “Don’t let the cookie sales fool you, asshole. Us little Daisies grow up to be Venus flytraps later in life.”

He rocked his body forward again as you bent down and picked up the box of nails.

“Not interested in what you want to say. Plead innocent, plead guilty. Shit, I don't even care if you regret every monstrously thing you've ever did. Actually, don’t give a fuck if you don’t regret it either. All that matters is that it ends here, that you end here. I know you checked out those homes you worked on, picking out the children and then coming back for them. Like some twisted human layaway plan. That was a hell of wait, but I bet you had nothing else to think about when you were locked away. ”

Reveling in his fear, you circled him. You could practically smell the panic ooze out his pores. “Ever hear about the serial killer, Albert Fish? Preyed on kids, ate them even. You both had common interests, similar ways- he your inspiration? My gut told me within time, you'd be like him.”

Dancing your fingertips across the tops of his shoulders, you emphasized each word with a tap, “And. You're. Already. There.”

Williams knocked his head side to side, trying to shake off your touch. He glared in your direction but refused to make eye contact.

“But there's a thing you’re missing from being so very much like him. A subtle difference to some, but devil's in the detail- am I right?”

You shook the box of nails up to his ear as you leaned by his other.

“He stuck pins in his groan, 29 to be exact. They have x-rays of it. No, no, I shit you not. So we're going to improvise with these nails and recreate it on you,” you bopped him on the nose. “Artistic interpretation and all.”

Driving the nails into him with a hammer, you randomly picked spots along his inner thigh and pelvis. “Do you like astronomy? Should I make the Little Dipper?”

He howled against his restraints. Drool and hatred running down his chin. Randall passed out on nail number eight, when it was jammed into his testicle, but came back around for the thirteenth nail while you slapped him awake. He passed out again on the twenty-third nail and you carried on without your audience.

“Oh good! You're awake- again,” false happiness laced your voice. “Take a look at the new additions!”

Swiftly grabbing the back of his head, you forced him to crane his neck awkwardly downward as he tried resisting.

“Oh good god. Stop bawling already,” walking around to his front, you brought the hammer down and smashed it against his left kneecap.

More cries of anguish poured out of Randall.

Reaching back into his toolbox, you crouched down in front of him, “you only have yourself to blame- for all of this. But also because you kept passing out on me- and that… well that, gave me time to think.”

You delivered a Cheshire grin and held up a pair of pruners.

His body shook and he screamed at you through the gag as you painfully pulled down on his nailed testicles. You quickly shoved the pruners around one sweaty ball. His right nut rested between the tool's blades, the nail stuck out below. His body convulsed in pain as you smiled and began cutting into him.

Randall's shoulders involuntarily shook as he wailed incoherently. After a few minutes his shoulders fell down around him, making him smaller with the weight of defeat.

Pressing the toe of your boot into his broken kneecap, you slowly and gradually applied more pressure, “Pay attention, fuckface. There’s still more I can cut from you.”

Blood painted his cheek as you tapped his face with the pruner’s blades, You pulled down his gag and he reeled his head away.

You plucked his testicle off the floor, “Hm. Kind of looks like a weird party appetizer, meatball and blood gravy. Gore gravy? You think that sounds better? Here. Want to try?”

Twirling the hammered nail between your thumb and finger, his detached ball freckled his cheek and forehead with blood. Threads of veins and skin twirled on the air like streamers.

“Blow on it, might be hot,” you cackled at your joke.

“Fuck you!” Randall cursed through shaky, chapped lips, gaping in pained disbelief at his removed appendage.

“Tsk-tsk,” you snapped the meatball appetizer back and forth on front of his eyes. “That bad, lousy fucking attitude and those actions is what got you here, motherfucker.”

You sneered at him coldly. “Don't make me get creative. Could always skin away pieces of you and wrap them around other parts,” you dramatically cut the air with the human hors d'oeuvre and pointed at his crotch with it, “like pigs in a blanket. Foreskin's optional, you know.”

He started paling between your words and the blood loss, silently staring wide-eyed when visualizing your threat.

“Now,” you stepped between his bounded legs, “Open up, fucker. Time to try, then die.”

Pinching his cheeks, you forced his mouth open and scrapped the nail against his teeth until his ball rested in the back of his mouth. Horror filled Randall's eyes as the taste of warm iron hit his tongue.

Quickly grabbing the sides of his head, you abruptly raised your knee and slammed it up against his jaw. “Enjoy.”

A mixed sound of wet squishing and teeth cracking sang throughout the basement as Randall sobbed. The deflated testicle and pieces of teeth fell from his mouth between his hysterical wails. You leaned against the wall until his banshee screams subsided, a mask of boredom across your face.

When his shoulders stopped shaking and he settled to broken whimpers, you punched him again and slid the gag back in place between blood-coated teeth.

“And now, for our final act,” you callously taunted as you eyed his maimed and bloody crotch. Locking eyes with Randall, you jerked your chin in to the direction of his tools, “Ready?”

—

Standing before Randall's crumpled body, you heard your name float down from the top of the stairs, “Sweetheart, it’s time to go now.”

Clint silently made his way over, stepping between you and Williams’ broken corpse.

He pulled out a plastic bag from his utility vest and held it out to you with his own gloved hands.

“Meet you back at the car?” you inquired as you stuffed your bloody gloves into the bag he always provided.

“Always,” Clint kissed your forehead and tucked the soiled bag away. “Go on now, gonna do a once over here and I'll meet you. Love you.”

“Love you,” you backed away and made your way to the car.

Clint pulled out several photographs of Williams’ victims and scattered them around his corpse. Picking up the bloodied hammer, he cringed when seeing a few pubic hairs stuck to it. He promptly dropped the tool on top of the victim's photos.

When he followed you to the storage unit, he figured the photos would come in handy for what he knew you'd do next. As he resumed to tail you from the warehouse, he decided to make an anonymous tip to the police about the storage unit when you were done. He didn't want to risk any evidence showing who Randall Williams really was could be overlooked.

Back at the car, you turned up the volume and resumed listening to your audiobook. You didn't have to wait long, soon Clint tapped on your passenger window asking you to unlock the door.

Dropping into the passenger seat and assessing your appearance, Clint raised your hand to his lips for a quick kiss, “You look more content already.”

“Only because it’s over and I get to go home to you and Steve,” you smiled and cupped his face. “Thank you.”

“Never have to thank us, sweetheart.”

He rolled his cheek into the warmth of your hand. Your fingers skimmed through the top of his hair. You liked to tease that his hair felt softer with the mohawk.

Blessed is what you felt. You found a home with Clint and Steve. And they accepted your need to play judge, jury and executioner.

Clint tapped your thigh and gave it a squeeze, “Let’s get home to him, sweetheart. He’s been worried.”

He reached behind your seat and pulled out the unopened box of protein bars, “See, you plan well but then forget details like this.”

Ripping the box open, he freed a bar from its wrapper, “Eat.”

You wanted to object for a moment and say you were fine, but Clint's tone was laced with a plead, not a command.

“When we get back he'll want to feed us, you know. No one was happy you skipped another dinner.”

You chuckled at Clint's reminder about Steve's concerns and opened a bottled water, “What about your car?”

“Had FRIDAY drive itself home.”

Humming at his answer, you capped the water, “Ready?”

Clint nudged your arm and took the bottle for himself, “Yes. And tomorrow we'll have a long talk about you being more aware of your surroundings. You were so blindly driven, you didn't notice me following like you usually do.”

—

When FRIDAY announced your return home, Steve felt he could breath easy again. He knew what these kills meant to you and the sense of serenity they brought.

Determined to make your and Clint’s return as smooth as possible, he put on your favorite playlist and he spread out the 24hr takeout menus.

He heard you before seeing you, smiling at the sight of you and Clint rounding the corner. Your legs swung back and forth, head tipped back with laughter, humor staining your expressive lips as Clint gave you a piggy back ride. A smile of Clint’s own beamed across his face at Steve as he set you down.

“Hey, doll.” Not hiding his admiration for you, Steve scooped you up into a tight embrace.

“Hey, handsome.” With a kiss on his jaw, you nuzzled in closer to him.

Opening up your embrace, you both pulled Clint into the hug.

Steve pressed his forehead against Clint's temple, “Thank you for being careful and bring you both back safely.”

Clint leaned into Steve's words, “Never have to thank me.”

Steve kissed Clint soundly and turned his gaze on you, “Give me everything you need burned.”

You nodded at his request and pulled out the bloody bag.

“Weapons?”

You turned your head shyly towards Clint, and he slightly shivered as he replayed in his mind what you orchestrated in the basement.

“She used his own. Left them there with some incriminating photos. Less things to carry back,” Clint explained to Steve.

Tilting your head at Clint's mention of photos, you truly realized then just how absorbed you were for not noticing him at the storage unit. Hearing Steve call your name, you gave Clint a soft smile before turning back around.

“Alright, doll. You know the next part. Strip.”

Without a second thought to his request, you swiftly slipped out of your jacket and boots, followed by your top and pants.

“Always love this part, sweetheart, ” Clint murmured behind you.

“Me, too. She looks so pretty with that new sense of accomplishment. Don’t you, doll?”

You laughed at your boyfriends’ praises, “Gonna go shower now. We eating soon?”

“Pulled out some menus when you two got back. I was thinking that little Italian place.”

“Sounds delicious,” you left for the shower after gifting both men a slow, appreciative kiss. “Maybe come join me before the food arrives?”

Both men hummed in appreciation as they watch you walk down the hall.

“I’ll get hers. Gotta wash mine, too.” Clint offered, collecting your soiled items from Steve to bring to the laundry room and incinerator.

Clint stepped into the elevator but froze suddenly when he saw Steve holding the Italian menu.

“Steve!” Clint frantically called out, forcefully pushing the elevator doors apart. “Order mine without meatballs!”

#dark!reader #steve x dark!reader #clint x dark!reader #clint barton x reader #steve rogers x reader #ayaotdchallenge #dark!clint x dark!reader #dark!steve x dark!reader #dark!clint #dark!steve #dark!marvel #dark!fic #dark!fanfiction #steve x reader #clint x reader

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paganinpurple · 4 years

Text

A Feline’s Family - MariChat May 2019

This is literally the longest it’s ever taken me to do MariChat May before. Sorry. I had a slipped disc in my back which caused me severe sciatica and I was just in so much pain for such a long, long time that writing was just never going to be feasible to focus on. I slowly tried to start writing again when my disc issue resolved and it reduced to my normal levels of pain again about a month ago, but it’s still slow going because I’m out of practise now. I’m not abandoning this story though.

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AO3

Chapters (If there’s no link, it’s not written yet)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

Day 19 – Flowers

Sabine would not have been surprised if her daughter had actually flown through the bakery, considering the speed she was moving at. She watched with barely concealed amusement as the girl dashed straight past her to the door at the back of the bakery before deciding to speak, “He’s not here, dear.”

Marinette froze, one hand still resting upon the handle and turned to face her mother with a confused and mildly irritated expression. “He hasn’t come back yet?” she asked, moving back to the counter to join Sabine.

“Oh, he came back,” she said as she finished serving one of the regular customers, who –to Marinette’s increasing annoyance– seemed far too interested in her conversation with her mother to go anywhere yet, “But he had to leave again right away. His first appointment with the new doctor is today, remember?”

“Oh.” She had remembered, honest, but Marinette’s brain was feeling a little burnt out and it must have slipped her mind momentarily. “Did…did he say how things went?”

“He mentioned some things,” Sabine continued, maintaining uncomfortable eye contact with the woman in front of her while a menacing, yet somehow sweet smile challenged her nosey nature. Marinette knew the look well and remained silent until the woman left, unnerved by the opposition to her earned eavesdropping rights as a daily visitor to the bakery.

Although Adrien had always been pulled out of classes for as long as he had gone to school, it had always been for photoshoots and other business relating to Gabriel’s brand. Things he was no longer required or expected to do, given the man’s lack of control over his life these days.

So, when the Principal had knocked on the classroom door and asked that Adrien be excused for the afternoon, her attention had immediately switched to the people standing behind him.

Police officers.

Clearly, they had questions that couldn’t wait and had managed to clear it with her parents and his advocacy worker. That didn’t mean she couldn’t worry about him and the fifteen unanswered text messages she had sent.

Sabine waited until the solitary echo of the bell above the door had died out before she turned to face her daughter. “They asked him a lot of questions about Nathalie,” she said, softly “and he’s quite shaken. He almost cancelled his appointment because he didn’t feel up to it.”

“But you made him go anyway, didn’t you?” Marinette asked with a sad smile.

Her mother mirrored her, and her eyes betrayed the sympathy she felt. “He needs to talk to someone who isn’t as close to all of this as we are. I didn’t make him do anything, but I did suggest he go, even if it’s just to get to know the woman. And he’s a good boy; he listens.”

Marinette frowned a little, biting her bottom lip as she glanced back towards the door that led to their apartment. “I guess I’ll have to wait till he gets home to see how he’s doing.”

Sabine’s expression morphed from compassionate worry to something much more mischievous and Marinette couldn’t help but feel that the look would be better suited to a much younger person than her mother. Or maybe Plagg. She regarded her suspiciously.

“It didn’t look like he came straight home though, honey. He brought something in and left it for you upstairs before he headed back out.”

Marinette tried to enquire further, she really did, but Sabine was determined not to give away anything that might cushion the reaction her daughter would have to finding her gift herself.

Shooing the girl away as a couple entered the bakery to steal her attention once again, she watched as a pair of pigtails swept through the door, catching sight of the girl taking the stairs two at a time in her hurry to find out what waited for her upstairs.

***

Marinette burst into the main room of the apartment upstairs, giving it a cursory glance to ensure her present -whatever it was- wasn’t there before she exploded into the room above. She was barely in the room when she found she was irresistibly drawn to the large pot sitting by the computer on her desk.

She found herself gently touching the large leafy plant before she was even aware that she had moved towards the desk. Her fingertips electrified where they brushed the soft, fuzzy texture of the long catkin flowers, warmth spreading along her hand as she was reminded of little Trash Bag and his cosy, soft fur.

The long and thin downy flowers were so oddly shaped and stained such a bright shade of red, that Marinette immediately compared them to chilli peppers in her mind. Of course, their resemblance to spicy food brought with it an accompanying heat, which drew forward a blush to her cheeks. Or, at least, that’s what Marinette told herself as she stroked the plant with a fond smile adorning her expression.

Tucked in amongst the leaves she spotted a small plastic stake, the kind with the name of the plant and the care instructions printed on it. She reached for it and for the folded slip of paper secured to it with an elastic band, a frown marring her features.

The stake informed her the plant was known as an Acalypha hispida, a fact she quickly forgot as she flattened out the creases of the note Adrien appeared to have left her.

“Hey Buginette.”

It started innocently, Marinette’s guard slipping down a little, leaving her heart vulnerable to the impact of his following words.

“I felt my phone buzz about a million times this afternoon and I haven’t had time to read all my texts yet, because I’m kind of on a time limit here. But from what I skimmed on route home, you've been worried about me.

I probably shouldn’t like that, because I don’t want to worry you. But it makes me feel warm and happy when you do. Almost like you’re still right there with me when I’m trying to deal with some of this crazy stuff without you.

You’re amazing.

So, here's some Cat's Tail for the hero of this cat's tale.”

Marinette’s next breath froze and lodged in her throat, icy shock hitting before the inside of her chest burst into flame at the way he had signed the note.

“Love,

Your partner, in every and any way you’ll have me.”

Marinette reread the last line several times. The words, ‘every' and ‘any' had been written over several times with the dark pen, the ink leaving smudges and dirty marks where his hand had rubbed over them in his repetition. It was an odd thing to see on a note from him, considering his usual stance that the appearance of what he had to say was important. She sniffed, biting her lip in an attempt to stifle the dampness gathering on her lower lashes.

“Marinette? Are you okay?” Tikki asked, flying up to her young charge's shoulder, simultaneously watching her expression for a sign of what was wrong and avoiding the sudden teardrops falling down her face. Drawing a blank, the kwami turned to read the note in Marinette's hand for herself.

Reading Adrien's casual words, she sighed heavily, rolling her eyes in fondness for both children. Only her current Ladybug could forget how little thought it required for her Chat Noir to speak of how much she meant to him and how highly he held her opinion of him. Given that Adrien was fully aware of his feelings for both sides of the girl before they were shown to be one and the same, it made sense for him to be so open with her in a less pressured way.

And since this was written and he wasn’t present, there was literally no pressure on Marinette to acknowledge it at all if she chose not to. So Tikki would have to be more encouraging in the next hour or so to try and convince her not to ignore it out of her utter fear of the unknown.

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#PIP writes #MariChat May 2019 #A Feline's Family #MariChat May #MariChat

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