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khaleesiofalicante · 2 years

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Hola Dani 👋🏼 ¿cómo estás? ¿Que planes tienes para el fin de semana? Say hi to your mom from me!! 😌

My clases are going great, I only have female students and they are nice, way more confident that I have ever been but is fun!

I would absolutely love to watch a show or movie with you but you should know that I have been described as a "live meme generator" whatever that is 🤣🤣

The One with the Exile

“The whole of Scholomance does,” Amira chuckled. “It’s a miracle Anjali doesn’t yet.”

Maybe she does but like the magnanimous queen that she is she's going to wait for Rafe!!

Would he get demon ichor in his system again? How was that happening anyway?

I'm going to stick with my poisson theory until proven wrong 😌

“Every time I bring up Gabriel, he pretends to get a phone call and walks away,” Selena rolled her eyes. "Nobody calls him!"

Oh Jace sweetie NO! 😔

“But I’m glamoured!” Selena said in surprise.

I don't like this!!! 😖😖😖

Especially after shit when down with Marcus.

Fuck Marcus, I hope he gets a tight hug from fire while conveniently covered in gasoline... Burn bitch buuuuurn!!!!!!!!!

“Camila. This is the shadow world. There is always serious shit going on,” Gigi chuckled. “You have to find the time to do your own shit or it will never get done otherwise.”

So true!! These people don't even know what peace feels like!!

“He literally pointed a gun at Anjali!” Gigi said incredulously.

Exactly!!!!! Only an evil psychopath would do that!!!!

But she didn’t feel that way. Not after what Marcus did.

Everybody look at my smart child and take notes

Mama had told Gigi that there was nothing and no one more dangerous than a man who refused to admit he was wrong.

Del tal palo, tal astilla 😌

“Um,” Camila said, grinning madly. “Your good luck charm is standing behind you.”

“Oh,” Camila said as she stared at the tiny gadget over Gigi’s shoulder. “Oh shit.”

Oh shit is correct! Oh shit very much!!!

It could get him kicked out of the institute.

Or it could keep you safe, TALK!!!!!

The shiver on his skin died almost immediately.

They were gone.

He felt it. He knew it.

David sighed. He stared at himself in the mirror. The one in front of his bed.

Cover that shit... you're not supposed to have mirrors in front of your bed, that's how the evil spirits get to you, my abuela told me this and she is always right!!!

Granted she also thinks that if you step on salt you will have bad luck and never get married sooo...

Magnus’ face was unreadable. “I’m sure it was just shadow market gossip.”

I need to know EVERYTHING about this prince like yesterday!!!!

Magnus laughed. “That’s a great theory. Except demons don’t poop.”

Also Chopin is a cutie pie and wouldn't do that to you!

“Don’t repeat what you heard from the faeries in the shadow market,” Magnus said.

But whyyyy??????????? 😫😫

Magnus’ cat eyes hardened as he looked at the tea again. “It wasn’t a ghost or a demon. Someone has been intentionally poisoning you.”

I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!!!

“It seems Marcus has told us many misleading things,” Anjali said quietly.

I told you so!!!! Wait why am I getting so many things right so soon...!! Oh no... 😭 things are gonna get really bad, I can feel it!!

“Amor,” Rafael whispered. “You need to take a break.”

I agree!!! I'm worried about Anjali 😭

He should probably propose first.

Yeah, you should!! Also how do I get invited to an Indian wedding?? There are not a lot Indians in Venezuela 🥲

“Take selfies?” Rafael shrugged. “That’s what Max does.”

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Marcus strode into the living room, seemingly not in the mood for small talk. “I assume you’ve invited me here to reconsider your decision about my proposal.”

Listen here you little shit!!!! 😡😡😡😡

He knew their history. He knew their world. He knew the law.

He just didn’t care.

What had happened was not a mistake.

I told you he is an evil bitch but you never listen to me!!!!!!! Kill him NOW!!!!!!

Marcus gives me republican vibes, if he were in TLND he would be one of those evil senators that work for the NRA 🤬🤬🤬

“No,” Marcus whispered, pointing the gun. “You can’t take the shadow world from me.”

“Should we have removed his sight?” Rafael sighed. “Why give him another chance? We should have just-”

Yes!! Yes you should have!!! Sometimes you need to be those people!!! Not only demons are evil you should know this by now!!!!!

He felt the weight of the ring all over his chest.

He looked at her.

He smiled.

O mai gaaaaa!!! It's happening!!!!

Nooooo!! What is that?!?!?!?!

“It’s Nicolas Thorn,” Anjali said. “He is coming to Idris.”

Finally!!!! 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

Next week, a hot new warlock enters the villa!!! I can't wait... next Tuesday is my birthday so I'm gonna claim chapter 9 as my birthday present, you have been warned homies!!!

Thank youuuu Dani!!!! I swear this story feels like a suspense movie!!! I LOVE IT!!!!! 💚💚💚💚

Hi, Alex 💚

I had an incredibly stressful day and your ask was one of the few things that put a smile on my face today.

Thank you so much. SO MUCH.

AND I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY OMG. WE'RE GONNA HAVE FUN!

Love you 🥺

#lbaf

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cheshiremadd · 4 years

Text

Uprooting Bindweed

Ao3

I'd had the idea of Rena and Chat talking about Marinette and Adrien in my WIP folder, and then @galahadwilder posted the perfect prompt on discord to go with it: what if Chat Noir fired Rena Rouge.

Thank you SO much to @alexseanchai and @sweetmeatdale for your feedback! 💜

Speaking of Alex, they came up with the title, because they're amazing like that. Bindweeds are used as "food plants by the larvae of some Lepidoptera species, including the convolvulus hawk moth". With that information and the Bindweed tarot card, I knew a more perfect title would not be found.

The Akuma of the Week was searching for Marinette. The fourth time this month, and he was really hoping there was nothing to that. So many targeting the same person not Chloé or Lila seemed strange to him. But that was a worry for another time.

Chat Noir and Rena Rouge had been sent ahead to the bakery (he was very glad that he’d stashed Marinette somewhere else). Rena was to Mirage herself into the designer and play bait, but they had to wait until Ladybug could lure the akuma closer. Five minute timer, and all.

Rena reached her balcony first, and went to the trapdoor without hesitation. Chat figured he’d have to be the one to open it, and had been planning how to go about it without giving away how familiar he was, but Rena had no qualms. His stomach soured at the thought that he wasn’t the only superhero to visit Marinette.

She’d redecorated some since he last was in her room. He wasn’t able to come as often as he wanted, and they typically preferred the open air and view of her balcony when the weather was warm.

Adrien’s modeling photos were still present, but they’d been updated to more recent shoots. On another wall were more candid pictures. Their friends and classmates. People he assumed were Marinette’s family (only some of whom he’d met). Several of Kitty Section. Her and Jagged Stone and Penny Rolling (it still blew his mind that she’s on a first name basis with them). Lots of her and Alya and Nino. Fewer of Adrien.

He knew she had more of Chat than of Adrien. But she kept those on her phone, locked away in a secret folder. Too much chance that someone would see her walls.

One caught his eye, placed directly in the center, the spot of honor. A high res of Chat-him and Ladybug. They’d thrown their arms over each other’s shoulders and snapped half a dozen selfies. It’d been Ladybug’s idea to submit the best of them to the Ladyblog, giving civilian them plausible deniability.

The last wall, above her sewing supplies, held her inspiration boards. One for general inspiration, holding her favorite pieces from her favorite lines (only one of which was a Gabriel piece, he noted with some interest), some fabric squares of different colors and patterns, and scenic pictures from around Paris. The other, he knew, was more specific to whatever she was currently working on. Pinned to it was a handful of dried flowers, a fabric swatch to match each flower, and several sketches.

Chat glanced at Rena, realizing she’d been quiet this whole time. She was staring at Adrien’s modeling photos, the look on her face unreadable. He looked with her. He wondered if there was a specific shoot Marinette favored.

“This must look so strange to you.”

Chat looked back at her, but said nothing. He wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t give away exactly how close he was to Marinette.

“I promise she’s not some weird stalker in love with a celebrity. Well. He is a celebrity and she does have the biggest crush on him.” Um. What? “But they’re actually friends. She didn’t even like him when she first met him. The—the Wall actually started because he wasn’t allowed to hang out very often, and no one could get any candids of him.”

What?!

His shock must have shown on his face. He turned back to ‘the Wall’ in an effort to hide at least some of it.

“You seriously didn’t know?” Rena said. “You’ve got to be, like, one of two people in Paris that doesn’t. I keep flopping on whether Adrien knows or not. One minute it’s like he’s encouraging her feelings, the next he’s going on about how glad he is to have such a good friend.”

Chat tried not to sputter. “How—how does ‘no candids’ turn into—” He gestured at the collage of Adriens.

“None of them were perfect.” Rena said it like she’d heard it a million times. “This photo shows his sincere eyes, but the rest of the face is photoshopped too much to be his real smile. ‘That advertisement had most of his real smile!’ ” She pitched her voice higher in mimicry. “ ‘But they shaved several centimeters off of his waist! Several! He’s skinny but he’s not that skinny can you believe they felt like they needed to change that, Rena?’ Well, she didn’t say Rena, she said my civilian name. I mean—you get it. And, oh, that outfit looks really good on him, it looks like something he’d choose to wear himself, but he looks so tired in that one. I bet that was at the end of that all-day shoot.”

(They didn’t actually shave inches off his waist. They did shave a little, but that wasn’t the point because—) He never realized that Marinette paid so much attention to him. He wanted to deny it. She’d specifically told him that she didn’t have a crush on him. And Marinette hates liars.

But. But she’d been embarrassed, that day. And she was embarrassed around him a lot. Especially when Alya was involved. It’d taken him a long time to notice that, but once he had, he saw it everywhere. And with this new piece of information…it shone a whole different light on many of their interactions.

Chat swallowed. He wasn’t sure what to do with this knowledge. He’d been in love with Ladybug for…for a long time. And Marinette. Marinette was special. Rejecting her was hard enough the first time, but at least he’d known that it’d never work between a superhero and a civilian.

Oh, Kwamis. She had a crush on Chat, too! Adding that event with this new understanding, he realized she never meant to confess to him. She’d probably been about to backtrack, but then her parents interrupted, and it was out of control from there.

What better evidence that someone truly liked you for who you were than falling for you twice and not realizing it?

Rena shuffled a bit, finding other things to poke her nose in, and Chat realized that he’d never responded.

“So, you don’t think it’s creepy that this girl has like twenty pictures of her crush on her walls?” He didn’t think it was creepy. He thought it was endearing. But he was curious what she would say. She’d been interestingly defensive of Marinette.

She snorted. “Hey, if it’s crazy, Adrien’s her same kind of crazy. He’s got more photos of Ladybug on his phone than I do, and that’s saying something.”

His brain came to a complete stop. And then worked overdrive. How the fuck did Rena Rouge know that.

She sighed, picked at her flute, and continued. “I’ve been wondering if she shouldn’t give him up, though. It’s starting to get unhealthy. Ruining her friendships in class.”

His chest tightened and it became hard to breath. Loving him was bad for her. The thought rattled around, but what she said next wiped it all away.

“There’s this girl in class, Lila. She’s an amazing person, done all these things, and has a real chance with Adrien. Marinette can’t let it go. She swore that Lila was lying, then dropped it and now just gives her the cold shoulder. Won’t go to group outings if Lila’s involved. Keeps flaking out. Avoids her completely. Lila’s trying, so hard, to keep the peace, mend bridges, and Marinette just refuses to listen.”

Rena dropped her hands, hitting her thighs, and paced. Agitated.

“It’s jealousy, pure and simple. And if she’s going to be like that, then I just don’t know if I can approve her being in a relationship. Especially with him.”

Chat felt something inside him harden. Gritted his teeth. Considered biting his tongue. He knew who this was. It’s plain as day now, and he’s mildly surprised he didn’t see it before. She’s supposed to be Marinette’s best. friend. And this was how she thought of her?

To be fair, Rena looked torn over this. Chat could see the hurt in her eyes, the worry in her bitten lower lip. The frustration in the creases of her brow. And she was telling all this to Chat, whom she only passingly knew.

But he couldn’t keep the distaste from his face. “Marinette’s right. Lila Rossi is a fucking liar. You think she’s got a real chance with Adrien Agreste? He wouldn’t touch her with my extendable baton. He only does photoshoots with her because clearly no one at Françoise Dupont knows what proper procedures for expulsion are, and that stunt Rossi pulled almost turned into Heroes Day 2.0.” He tugged down one of Adrien’s glamour shots. Marinette’s handwritten and detailed critiques ran along the edges. “From what it sounds like, Agreste would be lucky to date a girl like Marinette.”

Rena stared at Chat, stunned. “What do you know about Lila?”

He let out a short and hard laugh. “Enough. That little interview on the Ladyblog? I doubt there’s a true word in it. I mean, Ladybug’s best friend? I’m Ladybug’s best friend!”

Some of the tension released from her shoulders and she rolled her eyes. “Right. I forgot how jealous you can be, too.”

Chat growled at her. His ears flicked back, low on his head, and his tail whipped through the air agitatedly. “If you’re going to sit here and defend that manipulative bitch then you might as well take that miraculous off right now.”

Rena stepped back into a defensive stance. She was a decent fighter, but he was better. If she refused to give it over peaceably—

Something thumped on the roof. Ladybug. There was still an akuma, and that took priority. They needed to be where Ladybug expected them.

“Mirage, now.” His words were short and clipped. He pounced past her and opened up the window opposite of where the akuma would be coming from. “Follow the plan. We can talk about this later.”

The plan worked out like most of Ladybug’s plans do: perfectly. Chat’d tied the villain up in Marinette’s tarp-roof, presented with a string-of-lights bow and a flourished bow to his Lady to his Lady. She did her thing, tossed the spotted paperclip into the air, and Marinette’s balcony and room put themselves back together. The glamour shot even taped itself back on the wall.

Chat sent Ladybug a look. She gestured in a direction and he nodded. He was pretty sure he knew the roof she meant.

Rena passed by him with wariness, but he paid her no visible attention. She took off with Ladybug in the agreed direction while he turned to the akuma victim. He had a princess to protect.

“Here, let me get you down to street level,” he said. The deakumatized girl seemed hesitant to step into his arms, but relented after seeing no other way down. “Do you remember anything?”

Tears shone in her eyes for a moment, but she swiped at them and tried a smile. It didn’t work. “I—I think I’ll be okay. It’s stupid, I just…let my stress get the better of me.”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off with a gasp. “Oh, no, Marinette! I didn’t do anything to hurt her, did I?”

“Mlle Dupain-Cheng is fine,” he hurried to reassure her, “but…do you remember why you were after her? Did she do something wrong?”

“No! No. Marinette is lovely; she’s always helping us out in the Garden Club!” The girl paused, ashamed. “I was just feeling overwhelmed and she always seems so put together, she juggles all these responsibilities…I was jealous. Like I said. Stupid.”

“Hey, hey, your feelings are not stupid. Everyone gets stressed and feels like they’re drowning at times. I bet if you asked Marinette about it, she’d say that she always feels like that.”

He remembered himself and what he had to do, and glanced upwards.

“I’m very sorry. I’d usually stay longer and make sure you’re really okay, but I have an urgent something.” He handed her one of the business cards he’d made up. It had information on a number of Akuma support groups. “I can be back in about 30 minutes if you want to wait?”

Her smile turned a little more real. She took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. “I think I’ll be okay,” she said again. “I’ll—that’s good advice. Talking to Marinette. Thank you, Chat Noir. For caring.”

He smiled and saluted her, then bounded off. His baton confirmed that Ladybug and Rena were still active a few rooftops over. But then he watched Rena’s signal go out and put on a burst of speed to get there in time. They weren’t on the roof, it turned out, but in the alleyway adjacent to the building.

Ladybug’s eyebrows raised in silent question when she saw him. “Sorry, Bug. This is something that needs to be done.”

Alya looked between the two. Suspicion bloomed and, with it, fear.

Pernicious cat gods, this was going to be awful.

“Alya Césaire.” Chat held his hand out. “The Miraculous. Please.”

She grasped it so hard her knuckles turned white. She took a big gulp of air and said shakily, “This feels final.”

He stared at one of his closest friends, and didn’t let himself waver.

“Your recklessness has put many in danger, including Ladybug and myself. You gave Lila Rossi a platform to speak, to spread her lies. You, who had held a miraculous before, and likely would again. Whom Ladybug had shown a partiality to in interviews and questions. You had every opportunity to check Rossi’s story.”

And, oh, he sounded exactly like his father. That grated.

“In giving her credibility, you opened several of your classmates up to her manipulations. Your best friend warned you about her lies, and you wrote it off as petty jealousy. You tried to write off what I told you as petty jealousy.”

He could kind of see how she’d come to that conclusion, assuming Marinette never told her about that cringe-worthy ice skating date and knowing that she was in love with him. (Alya said ‘crush’. Having this new option to attribute to Mari’s behavior, he knew it was more than that.)

“Furthermore, I can guarantee that at least one terrorist watches your blog. A civilian claimed to be a superhero’s best friend and you broadcast that to the world. What happens when said terrorist decides to use that?”

It was harsh, and damning. But it had to be said. She needed to understand.

Alya looked from him to Ladybug and back, then repeated the motion. “You—you can’t…” Alya’s voice broke. Her eyes settled on Ladybug, who appeared to have turned to stone, she held herself so rigidly. “He can’t do this. Right? You hand out the Miraculous; it’s your decision. Not his!”

Ladybug’s stormy eyes turned to ice. The Ladyblogger realized her mistake and opened her mouth to salvage something, anything, but Ladybug cut her off. “You, of all people, should know that Chat is my equal. He’s right. I should've…but I didn’t…” She shook her head, once. “I stand by his decisions.”

Chat released a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Alya’s eyes grew bright with tears and she clutched the Fox Miraculous harder. She stared at them, and they stared at her, and she finally dropped it into Chat’s claws.

Ladybug’s hands fluttered in Alya’s direction. She pulled up short, though, unsure if her touch would be welcome.

“This doesn’t make you a bad person, Alya,” she said gently. “You’ve been lied to and manipulated. That’s not your fault. But, as a reporter, it’s important to consider the consequences of distributing information. Just as it is to produce evidence to back your stories.”

Alya’s hand pressed against her mouth, muffled a sob.

Ladybug hesitated, considering, and then spoke again. “You can still be a hero, Alya. Magic, the miraculous, it doesn’t make you into what you aren’t. You make you a hero. And, like I told Chloé, being a hero starts with your everyday life.”

Silence. The only sounds were the girl’s sniffling and the pounding of Chat’s heart. Even the sounds of the city muted. He had to force himself to stay still. Fidgeting felt disrespectful somehow. It was broken by Alya.

“So—so Lila was never your friend?” she asked thickly.

Ladybug’s voice was so gentle, yet cut through what the Ladyblogger had known like a knife. “No.”

Alya nodded. Wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together. Her short gasps of breath betrayed how upset she was. “I. I think I’ve—” She swallowed. “Got some thinking to do.”

She turned to face the street, straightened her spine, and walked out. Her walk looked a little robotic to Chat, a little too forced to be her normal. She barely made it ten meters before Chat heard Nino call out to her.

Good, he thought, deflating a little. Nino will protect her.

His priority was his Lady.

“Well, it looks like you finally joined me in getting past the time limitation.” His attempt at lightening the mood fell flat even to him.

Ladybug didn’t respond at all. She took a big, shuddering breath.

“Oh, Bug…” Chat was quick to wrap his arms around her, and gently pull her head to rest on his shoulder. He coaxed her into a shuffle-walk until his back met the dirty alley wall, the heel of the hand that still held the Fox necklace rubbing up and down and across her back. “I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head back and forth; his claws tangled further in her hair. He tried not to listen to her quiet tears. He drowned out the sound of Nino and Alya moving on. The cars on the street. Instead he looked for the delicate and distinct sound of an akuma’s wings. She deserved a moment to mourn without worry.

Ladybug took a deep breath.

“You were right.” Her voice sounded wet. “Her blog affects many, and we were probably the only ones she was going to listen to.

“Actions…actions have to have consequences. Alya wasn’t seeing them, and—and maybe we shouldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner, but—the longer this goes on the worse they’ll become.”

Neither of them moved. He continued to find no evil bugs. Or feathers, but they usually went weeks in between Mayura sightings.

A gentle wind blew. They were having a round of good weather. Sunny days that were just warm enough to make the breeze feel perfect. He was hoping it’d hold through the weekend.

Ladybug pulled away to wipe her eyes. He fumbled a folded black handkerchief with green embroidery into her hands and she shot him a grateful, if watery, smile. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oh, that just warmed him down to his toes. And emboldened him to push a little more. “Hey, I was wondering, would you mind saying that bit about me being right again? Because I could listen to that all day—”

He internally cheered as his partner huffed out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Careful, kitty. I can see your head getting bigger by the second.”

She returned fire!

Mission accomplished.

That meant it was time to go, he guessed.

Chat stood there a moment longer. Contemplative.

“What are you thinking about, minou?”

He turned to her with a small smile, trying to hold it back and mostly failing. She crinkled a smile in return and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to get me a girlfriend.”

He said it so resolutely, so surely, so smugly, that she couldn’t help but laugh. “You are, are you?”

He nodded. His smile spread to full blown glee. “If she’ll have me. Rena said something while we waited, and it just made me think. There’s this girl, LB, and fuck is she amazing. She’s been waiting for me for the better part of two years, and I just realized that I’m crushing on her. Hard. I don’t even know when it started.”

He sighed, happy. “I’m going to ask her out. Tomorrow. And pray to the kwamis that she gives me one last chance.”

(Adrien didn’t ask Marinette out the next day, because Alya looked awful and he figured she needed the support. He’d count himself lucky if she didn’t get akumatized over this, and would attribute the entirety of that luck to his princess. He did invite her to lunch the day after that—he’d thought it’d be more difficult than it was, but Alya was already leading Rose off to a quiet corner—where he managed a stuttered and stilted confession. He honestly had no idea how Marinette managed to understand it, but she must have because she gave an enthusiastic “Yes!” and the next thing he knew they were making plans to explore the city together on Saturday.)

It's the job of the Black Cat to recognize when something’s not working, and to get rid of it. Destruction is necessary for Creation to truly thrive. And, sometimes, that means destroying what Creation loves. But, sometimes, the thing Creation loves is the vine that's choking her.

(Or enables the vine that’s choking her.)

#miraculous ladybug #chat noir #ladybug #rena rouge #alya salt #alya learns a lesson #lila salt #adrienette #ml fanfic

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ao3theskyisblue · 3 years

Text

Our Unforeseen Forever

Summary:

For a moment, TK takes in his appearance.

His husband’s shoulders are slumped, as if it was physically taxing to stand upright. There were heavy bags underneath his eyes – eyes that were sunken and haunted. They were distant, sporting thoughts swimming a million miles away than where he was standing right now.

It was like seeing a shadow.

Written for Day 6 of @911lonestarangstweek : Off the job injury + “You’ve got to be more careful.”

Read on AO3

Warning: Major Character Death

He gets one wish.

And without even hesitating, he chooses him.

Everything was still the same.

As soon as he steps through the door, he’s greeted with the sight of their hooded blankets strewn messily on the couch, a stack of books on the coffee table in a lopsided pile with the one on top on the verge of falling off.

There was a half-drank cup of coffee left on the kitchen counter, a thin layer of film covering what lay underneath. Speckles of dust floated lazily in the beams of sunlight through the gap between the curtains.

He’s sure he wasn’t supposed to be able to smell or feel anything anymore, but stepping through that door filled him with a wistfulness and longing he couldn’t quite explain. He wants to curl up on the couch. He wants to feel the way his heart would stutter in his chest every time the lock clicks as the front door opens and see his favourite smile lighting up the room.

He wants to smell sandalwood and the bitter tang of coffee lingering on clothes, feel strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him into a hug – hear the quiet giggles as they exchange sweet kisses.

He wants a lot of things, but want was something that just fell short in the hands of reality.

TK sweeps his gaze over the nostalgia plastered all over the walls, his eyes catching on a few pictures that immediately takes him down memory lane.

The day he moved to Texas, standing beside his father in front of their house, arms wrapped around each other as they made funny faces to try and depict their surprise at the cost of Austin real estate.

Next is a photo of the 126 a few weeks after the tornado, all wearing bright grins as they gave a playful thumbs-up at the camera.

His smile dims a little at the next photo taken not long after Tim’s death beside the ambulance, all of them standing around the inscribed name. Their eyes are red-rimmed, and TK feels a sudden urge to see the ambulance one more time.

See all of them one last time.

Swallowing thickly, his racing thoughts ease as the next picture immediately makes him chuckle wetly.

It was a selfie taken underneath the glowing sky of the little miracles of Mother Nature. Carlos had pulled out the camera on his phone, wanting to commemorate the day and TK had only been eager to comply. They tried to find the angle where they could get the luminescent sky in the picture, and in the end settled for their faces being slightly shadowed in favour of the glittering lights.

TK reaches out, fighting back the pressure building behind his eyes as he pauses just a few inches before his fingertips could touch the picture, running them over Carlos’ startled expression frozen in time.

It had taken them so long to find the semi-perfect angle that by the end, TK had just felt a strong urge to kiss his affections into the man next to him and proceeded to do just that. Mere moments before Carlos clicked the shutter button, he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of his lips, smiling into his skin.

No matter how many phones they’ve changed over the years, laptops that they went through, USB keys that were forgotten, that photo had been etched permanently into their lives. It was their first tangible piece of each other’s hearts offered underneath a night with the stars as their witness.

He flits his eyes over towards another photo, and this one pulls out a quiet laugh that rises naturally.

They had been out with the team along with Carlos’ partner and Grace, thinking that nothing could go wrong when a bunch of first responders decided to line up their days off to go on a mini road trip.

Of course, everything that could go wrong, did.

There were a couple pictures scattered around the one showcased in the center of them all, with their friends laughing in their soaked clothing and making ridiculous faces at the sky to playfully protest the thunderstorm. The snuffed-out campfire was between them all, a lost cause after the weather decided to mock their abilities.

Mateo was swinging his shirt around in one of them, the movement blurring the photo but the elated expression he sported was the best depiction of how their trip had gone despite everything. Another one had Marjan and Nancy pouting as they were covered in mud, one of them having slipped and pulled the other down with them.

All of their faces were filled with excitement and bliss, the rain a mere backdrop to the love they all shared.

He yearns to touch the photograph sitting at the center of them all, but stops himself and instead takes one of the drawstrings of his hoodie to twirl around his fingers.

The picture was of him and Carlos, soaked to the bone, hair a wild mess. The loose tanks they were wearing were completely plastered to their bodies, their shorts tightly hugging the muscles of their thighs. Their arms were locked securely around each other, his heels tipping a little off the ground to press his body more into his then-boyfriend, leaning their foreheads together mid-laugh. Carlos’ back was relaxed against their broken-down RV, eyes crinkled happily as the picture Nancy took caught him mid head tilt as he tried to capture his lips in a searing kiss beneath the pouring rain.

That trip was his best and worst memories filled into one, but if he had to do it all over again, he wouldn’t change a thing.

More photos fill his line of sight. Carlos’ family, his mother and father holding a four-year-old Carlos who was in the middle of eating a cookie between them, crumbs all over his face, grinning happily. Andrea and Gabriel hugging both of them between them, all of them sporting versions of cowboy hats when they went to their niece’s cowboy-themed birthday party.

There were ones of his mom and dad with Andrea and Gabriel, laughing openly with icing on their faces, which was done from a place of unadulterated love from both of them for Gabriel’s 57th birthday. Holidays spent together, more birthdays, lunch dates…

It was like walking through a visual screenplay of the time they’ve shared with each other, captured in snapshots filled with everlasting memories.

His eyes land on a more recent picture, making him pause. It had been taken just a little over two years ago. Both of them were sporting complimenting blazers, their sky blue and viridian button-ups neatly tucked into black dress pants. They were adorning twin smiles that radiated pure affection and love as they looked at each other, forgetting the world spinning around them. Their hands were interlocked, the glint of their matching rings being the secondary focal point.

He absently twists said ring on his finger, and although he shouldn’t be able to feel the weight of it, his memories won’t let him forget.

The faint click of the front door startles him, and he turns to see a sight he’s yearned for since he first stepped foot into their home. His instincts tell him to run forward, tightly envelop the man standing in front of him in his arms, and tuck his face into familiar curls.

But he knew he would just pass right through him.

Carlos hasn’t lifted his eyes from the ground, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the doorknob heavily.

For a moment, TK takes in his appearance.

It was like seeing a shadow.

TK waits until Carlos finally manages to step through the doorway, barely reacting to the sound the door makes as it shuts behind him. He stares down at where both pairs of their shoes would sit neatly, and TK can see something flashing through his eyes when it was clear that only one pair would be sitting there now.

“Hi, sweetheart.” TK whispers, even though it doesn’t matter. Carlos kicks his shoes off, not bothering to line them up like he usually does and passes by him without a glance. He hates how it’s suddenly harder to breathe, the pressure in his chest building up and making his breath catch.

“I waited for you, you know?” TK says gently, trailing behind Carlos smoothly, stopping beside him at the kitchen counter where he’s staring at the half-drank coffee mug. “They wouldn’t let me go anywhere else, but that was okay. It means I get to see you come home one last time.” TK smiles, looking down at where Carlos’ hands were resting on the counter, gripping the material tightly and placed his hands down next to his, as close as he could.

His hands twitch, itching to get closer, but TK doesn’t let them.

He doesn’t want to feel the pain that will grip him when he sees that they’ll just pass right through him.

Carlos doesn’t move for a long time, still staring at the mug, but TK can’t take his eyes off him, longing to kiss away the frown marring his expression.

“I feel like I’ve missed out on staring at those pictures we have lined up at the entranceway,” TK chuckles, mimicking leaning against the counter to face his husband properly. “You always say you never know what to do with your hands in front of a camera, and complain that you look awkward and misplaced, but you’re always the first one I see.”

Carlos doesn’t react, doesn’t so much as twitch. TK takes in a few deep breaths, trying to calm the pounding in his chest. His heart had stopped permanently a few days ago, so he wondered what exactly it was that made him feel like his heart was breaking all over again.

“I know that you didn’t want to come home,” TK stays still as Carlos moves for the first time in what feels like eons, but may have just been a couple of minutes. “And that’s okay. You never have to hold back what you feel, Carlos. Our friends, our family are all here for you – they all love you so much.” Carlos has reached the other end of the counter, and they were facing each other. He still hasn’t lifted his gaze, but TK can still see his hands shaking as he moves to grasp the mug.

“I love you.”

As if on cue, Carlos’ grip on the mug slackens, and the object falls onto the floor with a resounding smash. TK immediately steps in between the mess and his husband, knowing that Carlos would instantly want to clean it up.

He forgets in that millisecond, and closes his eyes when Carlos just walks through him, every inch of his body wanting to chase that familiar warmth.

He’s crouched next to the broken pieces, his eyes a hollow abyss as he moves to pick up the first piece before flinching back. There’s a quiet hiss of pain, and TK sees his husband clutching one hand in the other, a finger jutting out unnaturally.

“Babe, you’ve got to be more careful,” TK murmurs, crouching down next to Carlos as he stares at the blood slowly seeping through the cut on his finger, the mug a scattered mess beneath their feet. “Remember the dustpan we keep near the leftmost cupboard? Because of how often I drop things? Please use that next time.”

A quiet giggle suddenly bursts out of his lips when he suddenly remembers something, and he stops himself from nudging the shoulder next to him so he doesn’t fall over. “Though, you hardly ever drop things, so that dustpan will be collecting dust I guess, huh?” TK grins at his terrible joke, but Carlos doesn’t smile.

And just like that, his own smile dims.

His chest tightens at the sight of his husband staring at the kitchen floor with a vacant look in his eyes, as if staring at the broken pieces of ceramic hard enough would mend the mug back together. The blood is still trickling steadily down the length of his finger, a few drops landing on the floor.

“You need to rinse the wound with cold water. Then clean it,” TK coaxes gently, but Carlos doesn’t move. “Come on, baby. Our first aid kit isn’t that far away.” He wonders if Carlos can sense his urgency, because he jumps back slightly on instinct when he abruptly stands up, stepping over the mess and towards the kitchen sink. He watches as Carlos lets his finger rest underneath cold running water for a while, letting out an affirmative nod when he finally shuts off the water, walking over to the cabinets inside the bathroom.

“Man, I think the last time we used the first aid kit on you was years ago,” TK mused, leaning casually against the bathroom wall, admiring his husband’s profile as he pushes aside miscellaneous things to take out the first aid kit. “You were always so– what is it?”

TK straightens when Carlos’ entire frame freezes, his hands holding the kit in a vice-grip. He steps forward, frowning when he sees Carlos just staring down at it, the first hints of emotion flickering across his face.

“What’s wrong–”

His eyes land on where Carlos was looking, and feels something roaring in his ears.

Suddenly, there’s not enough air to breathe, and his skin stings like salt water being poured over invisible scars.

There’s a lump growing in his throat, and he has to actively force himself to push it down the longer they stand there, stock still.

Because on top of the first aid kit is a harmless green sticky note. Something he had written a lifetime ago and pushed to the recesses of his mind, thinking it was just an innocent act.

If you’re using this, that means you hurt yourself. Which means getting treated personally by yours truly. Don’t even try to talk your way out of it. I love you babe, but no amount of kisses will distract me.

P.S. I know exactly what’s in here. If there’s even a single piece of tissue missing, consequences will occur

There’s even a poorly drawn face with its tongue sticking out at the end along with a heart, and TK suddenly wants to go back in time to when he decided to write it at all. A day like any other, basking in the excitement of being newlyweds, a minor kitchen accident, his laughter ringing around them as he grabbed a sticky note and pen, scribbling down something hastily and sticking it on the kit before joining his husband.

He takes in a wobbly breath, and through blurry eyes he sees Carlos running his fingers reverently along the words, tracing every single letter, leaving none behind. His fingertips stop on the ‘I love you’ and the heart, and before his fingers finish tracing it, TK hears a sound that has his soul snap in two.

Unrelenting sobs fill the air around them, and he blinks against the tears in his eyes as he watches Carlos slowly slinking down onto the bathroom tiles, clutching the first aid kit towards his chest. His shoulders are shaking violently, both arms wrapped protectively around the kit, which gives him a clear view of his husband’s tears running down his cheeks without abandon.

He slowly sinks down beside him, leaning against the sink base cabinet, feeling the faintest outline of warmth from where their arms brushed against each other. He leans his head down, mere millimeters away from Carlos and closes his eyes as he quietly listens to his husband’s cries.

“I miss you too,” TK whispers, smiling against the silent tears that had slipped down his cheeks as he reaches forward with a hand hovering over the sticky note, right next to where one of Carlos’ was. “And I love you. So much.”

He wonders if Carlos knew that right now, he would have given anything just to say those words to him one last time out loud. To hold him in his arms, murmuring sweet nothings. To feel the way Carlos would clutch at him, holding each other so close until they felt each other’s heartbeats, sharing each other’s warmth.

He would give anything, just to have five seconds more with the love of his life.

“I know you wouldn’t want me to be, but I’m sorry,” TK murmurs, licking his lips and not tasting the usual saltiness of his tears that he didn’t bother to wipe away. The tears that disappeared into oblivion anyway, from his lack of corporeal form. “I’m sorry you have to go through this so soon. I’m sorry for fighting my hardest and it still not being enough.”

Carlos’ cries had quieted slightly, but there were still sniffles and occasional quiet coughs, and TK stares at the dried tear stains on his cheeks, wanting nothing more than to wipe them away, leaving soft kisses in their wake.

“I love you with everything that I am, Carlos Strand-Reyes, and I hope you won’t ever forget that,” TK says steadily, feeling what was left of his body aching with the overflowing love he had for the man sitting in front of him. He lifts his only free hand to brush a stray curl away from Carlos’ eyes, but closes his eyes sadly as his hand slips through.

He sits back, placing both hands right beside where Carlos’ own rested, looking up at him reverently.

“We’ll see each other again. Hopefully not until the far future but when we do,” TK is sure the smile he’s currently donning is one of Carlos’ favourites, his eyes crinkling tenderly at the sides. Leaning forward, he presses one last lingering kiss to his husband’s temple.

His body is slowly fading away, a weird tingly sensation filling him as he drifts away into the light.

The last thing he sees is Carlos cradling the sticky note in the palms of his hands carefully, the faintest of smiles painting across his lips.

“I’ll hold you in my arms again.”

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #warning: major character death #911lsangstweek

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Gabriel Agreste Must Die

I have no idea what inspired this but I just thought this would be funny. It Salt towards Gabriel. So enjoy. Warning Gaslighting ahead

Nino never thought that, out of everyone in the entire world, he would be the one to figure out Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth. Granted, it wasn’t like he had done he any searched or used any expert detective or journalism skills. No, instead he had been hanging out at Marinette’s; getting his butt handed to him in Ultimate Mecha Strike III. Alya chilling as she scrolled through her phone. Chloe, who they somehow managed to become friends with, was taking selfies in Marinette’s newest design outfits.

Nino knew it was because the blonde had proven herself to be a good hero and loyal ally. So when Marinette, the new Guardian now that Fu was gone, that more permanent heroes were needed, she brought in Chloe, along with Nino and Alya. It was then that Ladybug and Chat Noir revealed their identities to them and to each other.

It had been one hell of a shock. But they all became really good friends. Though any crushes the original heroes had died. It turned out Marinette thought of Chat Noir as a brother. And Adrien just couldn’t see Marinette in that light. It was for the best. Alya had been pissed about the love square thing.

That had been over a year ago, and the heroes had all become really good friends; banding together against anyone (Lila or Gabriel) who tried to tear them apart.

They had been talking about the recent akuma attacks, when Nino got a text from Adrien apologizing for not being able to hang out.

“Adrien can’t come,” Nino glared at the screen. “His dad’s got him working late.”

“Again?” Alya asked. “He does know what child labor laws are right?”

Chloe scoffed, “Like he cares.”

“Still, we should do something,” Marinette frowned as she rapidly pressed buttons on her controller. “This isn’t right.”

“Like what?” Nino asked, already gracefully accepting yet another defeat. “He’s Gabriel Agreste. He’s as big of an asshole as Hawkmoth; and I didn’t think that was possible.”

As soon as he said those words, something just clicked. Everyone in the room suddenly paused as they processed the words in their minds.

Nino slowly put down her controller, “It’s not possible, is it? That level of asshole-dom can’t possibly be reached by two different people in the same city, at the same time, in the same universe. There’s no way.”

“Even my mom left once Gabriel took power,” Chloe added. “And she’s a total bitch but she knew that Paris couldn’t handle both a Queen Bitch and the King of the Assholes fighting it out.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed as she considered everything they knew about hawkmoth and Gabriel Agreste, “When did Adrien say he last saw mom.”

“Three years ago,” Chloe answered. “Sometime near the end of January, I remember. It was before Valentine’s day as I had been planning yet another amazing party.”

“Alya, when was the first akuma attack?” Marinette asked.

“One sec, I’ll look,” The glasses-wearing girl said and as she frantically researched. When Alya was done, she looked up at them with a dark expression on her face. “February 4th, three years ago.”

“Gabriel has a book on Kwami,” Marinette told them. “He uses it for ‘inspiration.’”

After that, suddenly they were recalling all the little ‘coincidences’ they overlooked involving anything Agreste related and Hawkmoth; it all added up to something no one could deny.

“Gabriel is Hawkmoth,” Alya whispered stunned. “Adrien’s dad is Hawkmoth. We always said Gabriel was a monster but damn, really?”

“What do we do?” Chloe asked. “What can we do? Hawkmoth is too powerful; especially with Mayura on his side.”

Marinette nodded but there was a thoughtful look on his face, “Hawkmoth is strong but Gabriel is human like the rest of us. He has his flaws, his weaknesses; cracks in his facade.”

“Mom always said Gabriel was nuts,” Chloe said. “On the edge of his sanity. One good push…”

Marinette shrugged, “If we can’t defeat the villain…”

“…Then we break the man behind the mask,” Alya smirked,

Nino growled, “Gabriel Agreste Must Die.”

…

The next day after school; the heroes met up again at Marinette and sat Adrien down to talk.

It turned getting Adrien on board with the plan was difficult. He wasn’t hard to convince him that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, though it did take a while for him to stop throwing up. However, there was thing the blond boy wouldn’t budge on…

“You’re not killing my dad!” Adrien told them.

Nino nodded calmly and folded his hands on his lap, “I get where you’re coming from, dude. I totally do,” He told his best friend. “But hear me out. Your dad? He really sucks.”

Adrien shot his friends an incredulous look, “And you think that’s a good enough reason to kill him?”

“Well, yeah,” Nino shrugged. “I mean we talked about this before.”

Alya pushed her ex-boyfriend turned one of her bestie out of the way, “You’re dad is a megalomaniac magical terrorist that’s been destroying Paris, turning people into monsters, and killing innocents. Sure the damaged gets reversed but the victims, who aren’t Akumatized, still have to deal with the freaking trauma.”

“There are support groups for it,” Marinette said. “People remember dying; drowning, burning, crashing; it’s terrible.” She sighed, “However, we can’t just murder someone. It’s wrong.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It would be wrong not kill him,” Chloe told them. “The amount of time and effort it would save us is nearly too much to count. And the amount of relief all of Paris would feel knowing he was gone is out of this world. We can stop SO many people from getting hurt if I call my mom’s guy Fredro, and Gabriel has a little ‘accident’.”

Nino shot up, “See! Chloe agrees,” He shot a victorious look at Alya and Marinette.

Alya snorted, “Chloe thought burning Gabriel at the stake was good idea.”

“What?!!” Adrien looked at his oldest friend, shock on his face. “What?!!”

Chloe shrugged, “There’s no such thing as a bad idea. And It was a suggestion..”

“A good one,” Nino added. “And why does it sound like your mom has a hitman on speed dial?”

Chloe scoffed, “Hitman? Don’t be so crass. Fredro is former MI6. My mom used to work with him. He’s so good even Shield only had the slightest idea he exists.” She looked at her childhood friend with a softest expression anyone had ever seen on her face. “No one would ever know. If you want, he doesn’t even have to feel like a thing. Gabriel goes to sleep one night, and doesn’t wake up in the morning. It’ll look like a heart attack. Trust me, my mother only works with the best.”

“I have a lot of questions about your mother,” Alya said. “And what type of work she did with a former MI6 agent. But we’re gonna circle back to that. That fact is, Adrien, it’s up to you.”

“He’s your dad,” Marinette agreed. “Plus; its two to two. Me and Alya who don’t want to go to prison. And the two psychos who are more than willing to.”

Nino huffed and moved to stand next to Chloe, “Well, I’m feeling a little called out right now.”

“I told you we should’ve just handled this last night,” Chloe crossed her arms. “Just the two us. Ditch the Halos at home,” She motioned to Marinette, who didn’t like the idea of killing, and Alya, who didn’t want to make the choice with Adrien’s approval. “Bury that asshole alive.”

“Nah, they’d have known it was us,” Nino shook his head. “The second Gabriel doesn’t show up for something he’s supposed to, Marinette’s knocking on my door. I’m always a suspect. Gabriel nearly got killed by a falling headlight during a fashion show in New York, and Alya still gave me suspicious looks for days. Jerk’s literally on the other side of the world, and I’m still the primary suspect.”

Chloe looked contemplative, “…Didn’t you say you had a cousin in New York?”

“You a cop?” Nino asked. “No? Then stop asking so many questions.”

Adrien sighed, “I’m sorry, guys; we can’t kill my dad.”

Alya nodded firmly, “Then option two. We’re rip apart his sanity, destroy his reputation; tear apart everything that makes Gabriel Agreste, Gabriel Agreste until there’s nothing left except the miserable, sorry excuse for man and father, that he really is.”

“Oh but I’m inhumane?” Nino glared. “I was just gonna cut the breaks in Gabriel’s ride. Take him and Nathalie out at the same time. But, yeah, sure, breaking him to the point where he’s ripping out his own hair and locked away in a padded room is a noble cause as any.”

“And yet we’re the evil ones? Really?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s gaslight the bitch.”

Adrien looked up at the ceiling just so freaking done with world. “What we do first?”

“Your dad’s a total control freak,” Alya said. “We got to make him feel like he’s losing control.”

Marinette looked over Adrien, “You’re gonna need tight leather pants, chapstick… And how do feel about piercings?”

“That they look like they hurt!” Adrien protested.

Chloe shoved his shoulder, “Beauty’s pain, woman up!”

“Why do I need chapstick?” Adrien whined.

“You can’t make out with Scott with dry lips!”

“Make out?” Adrien’s face turned bright red. “And who’s Scott?”

Nino shook his head, “You’re asking a lot of questions for someone who was against the Murder plan.”

It turned out Scott was Marinette’s cousin. His mom Melissa was Tom’s half-sister. He was handsome tall sixteen-year-old with olive brown skin, curly dark brown hair, and a crooked jaw. When Adrien met him he was wearing a leather jacket and big happy smile on his face. Adrien couldn’t stop looking at him.

He had come out as bisexual to his friends months ago but had only briefly experimented with Luka in the kissing department. Marinette had stumbled upon and quickly squeaked, turned red, and scampered off. Though Adrien did have to deal with her grumbles about having dips. To which Adrien replied, “You snooze, you lose.”

Scott was with a brown haired, pale skinned, gangly guy, with lots moles and a rather pretty redhead.

“Oh come on!” The pale guy complained when he saw Adrien. He looked at Scott. “What leprechaun did you sacrifice so that you got the fucking luck in the world? First the Disney princess Alison, then badass ‘she could stab me and I’d thank her’ Kira, and now Apollo’s freaking love child. No! It’s not fair.”

“Dude!” Scott complained. “Stiles, you’re dating Derek.”

Stiles suddenly looked really smug, “Yeah I know,” He smirked. “But this isn’t about us. This is about all the other Scotts and Stiles’ of the world who are still growing out of their loser stage. Give them a chance, bro.”

The redhead rolled her eyes, “Hi I’m Lydia!” She introduced to the young heroes. “The loud moron is Stiles. The moron who’s been drooling since he saw you is Scott.”

Scott reared back, and started to quick wipe his mouth, “Man, am I drooling?”

“A little,” Stiles shrugged. “I just thought it was moon thing, you know?”

Lydia ignored them, “I love your dress. It’s an MDC, yes? Up in coming designer, so chic!”

Marinette smiled, “Thanks. It took forever to design this.”

The redhead paused, “You designed?” She looked stunned for a moment before glaring at Scott. “Is your cousin MDC? Did you not tell me your cousin was MDC?”

It was a little hilarious how quickly Scott stepped back in fear of girl a foot shorter than him.

“About why we’re here,” Alya decided to intervene before blood was drawn. “Adrien, this is Scott. He’ll be your boyfriend for as long as he’s Paris.” She looked between Scott and Adrien and smirked. “And I have no idea who I should congratulate.”

“Me,” Scott let slip as he stared at Adrien in a daze.

Pictures of Adrien Agreste making out with Scott were everywhere an hour later. Adrien tweeted his response, “I’m Bisexual. So what? To quote Taylor Swift: You need to Calm down.”

The tweet was the first thing that made Gabriel realize something was very, very wrong.

Adrien went home and was met the angry expressions of his father and Nathalie. It was time for step to.

Before either could yell at him. “I quit,” Adrien said. “No more modeling. No more anything I don’t want to do. This is not up for debate. I’m not asking. You can’t make me. And if you try to take me out of school; my friends will public with all the evidence of all times you broke child labors. And if you think I’m bluffing, a copy of the evidence was sent to Nathalie’s email.” He gave them hard looks. “You will go to prison. Try me. It’s over,” Adrien told them but didn’t add that it was in more ways that one.

He walked passed them; only sparing a glance to see the stunned looks on their faces.

Adrien knew his father wouldn’t back down. This was only the beginning.

Unfortunately for Gabriel, he would be far too busy putting out the fires of his burning empire to have any time to rein back in his son.

During the middle of the night, while everyone was sleeping, an anonymous user *cough Alya* released videos of Gabriel verbally berating his employees for the smallest things, and firing them. It was not a good look.

The Gabriel brand took a hit. The first of many.

Over the next few weeks; Gabriel found himself forgetting things. First he found a box of imported silk that Nathalie swore he called her himself to have her order, and he saw the call logged in his phone but for the life of him he couldn’t remember making the call. Then it was scheduling meetings, ordering lunches or coffee that he couldn’t remember doing. Then he forgot where put things.

For example, one time Gabriel swore he took out his sketchbook from his briefcase and sat it on his desk and left for a meeting. However, when he returned, it wasn’t there. And He nearly went raving mad trying to find it. Only for Nathalie to take it out of his brief case.

The suit he had laid out for him the night before would be an entirely different color than the one he remembered putting out but then Nathalie would tell him that he ordered her himself to have it pressed.

It was little thing and big little just slightly out of place that started to grate on his nerves.

“The stress,” Nathalie told him. “It’s getting to you. Perhaps a vacation is in order”

“I’m fine,” He waved her off. “How is the plan to pull Adrien back in?

Nathalie frowned, “Nothing. He’s still going strong with his boyfriend, a young Scott McCall. Every time we try anything, a new video of Adrien, uh, at work, is released to the media. CPS and the police knocked on our doors three times already. Next time, I fear, they may take him. Amelie Graham de Vanily has been spotted in town, speaking with several lawyers. My sources say she will attempt for custody if CPS deems you unfit.”

“Nothing of the sort will happen,” Gabriel sneered. “I will not lose my son; not to my sister in law, and not to some American boy. Tell Adrien, we will have dinner together. I will talk some sense into him myself.”

That was his plan at least.

However, Gabriel found himself waking up in the morning, in his pajamas, utterly confused. “Nathalie, when did I go sleep?”

She looked confused, “Around midnight, sir. You had dinner with Adrien, and then had to rush off to take a call from Audrey.”

“I… had dinner with Adrien?” Gabriel asked. “Are you sure? I don’t remember. And I didn’t talk with Audrey, did i?”

Nathalie suddenly looked very concerned. “Sir, I was there. Adrien and you had a lovely conversation about his school and him going back to modeling. Adrien decline. You tried to protest but Audrey called. You two argued for an hour. I was there the entire time. You really don’t remember?”

No, Gabriel didn’t.

A week later, after a series of incidents. One of which apparently he had ordered Nathalie to take him to a salon and walked out with blue hair, but couldn’t remember when he woke up the next day. And swore he hadn’t.

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with doctor,” Nathalie told him. “We’re going to get you looked at, okay.”

It was the first of many, many doctor visits. Until one day Adrien came home and His aunt was there with Nathalie. They told him that his father went on a little “vacation” for a while.

It turned out the vacation was a very luxurious mental institution.

#ml fic #ml salt #gabriel agreste salt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien deserves better #adrien agreste #alya sugar #nino sugar

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gates-keeper · 3 years

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Famous Last Words - Destiel Soulmate AU

The first two times his cousin’s ringtone had gone off, Castiel ignored it. After all, it was rare for him to have his dorm room to himself, and he had been looking forward to using the peace and quiet to finally get some writing done. But then, less than a minute later, “The Candy Man can ‘cause he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good…” filled the room, causing him to punch the “accept” button so hard, he felt it in his elbow.

“What do you want, Gabriel?” Castiel growled.

His cousin clucked his tongue, “Is that any way to talk to your family?”

“Yes,” he responded vehemently—even if Gabriel was, by far, his favorite relative.

“Touché. Is that any way to talk to the person who just discovered the love of your life?”

Castiel looked back at his laptop screen—at the judgmental blinking of the cursor only one sentence into his fifth chapter. “I don’t have time for this.”

Gabriel’s sigh was long-suffering. “Look, this isn’t a joke, Cassie,” he said, dropping his voice. “I’m pretty sure I found your soulmate.”

Castiel’s stomach flipped like an undercooked pancake.

“I sent you a link,” Gabriel told him, still sounding far too serious.

Castiel switched his phone to his other hand since his right had suddenly become sweaty, but he made no move to check his email.

“How would you even know what my soulmark looks like?” he demanded, already suspecting it was a feeble argument at best. The only person he was sure had seen the tattoo over his heart was his mother—who spent the first two weeks after his sixteenth birthday demanding to know what it was before eventually barging in on him while he was in the shower, explaining it was her “parental right.” But this was Gabriel. Of course, he would have found out somehow.

“So, you really did blackout that night, huh?” Gabriel laughed, causing Castiel to grimace. One time…. He’d tried alcohol one time. And while it turned out he had a high tolerance, everything after Gabe brought out the second bottle of vodka had gone blurry.

Biting his lip, he opened the correct tab in his computer, but couldn’t make himself go any further. A soulmate….

It wasn’t that he didn’t want one, per se. He just didn’t think they were everything people said they were. The divorce rate among marked couples was only 12%, yes, but if those pairings were cosmically meant to be, shouldn’t it be zero? Shouldn’t things like abuse be impossible if you really, truly loved the other person?

And then there were Castiel’s…personal issues.

As socially isolated as he had been most of his life, he still knew it was strange to have never experienced physical attraction before. He might find curves on a woman—or the play of muscle on a man—gratifying to look at—but in the same way that he thought a painting or a sunset beautiful. A rough hand to his morning erection was occasionally necessary—the resulting orgasm pleasant and relaxing, but not the all-consuming rush of sensations that society proclaimed it to be.

And while that didn’t bother him so much on a personal level—just like he didn’t care if he forgot to take a shower or brush his hair so long as he was home alone—it was hard not to feel self-conscious once someone else was involved.

Dimly, he heard Gabriel start humming the song from Jeopardy.

“Assbutt,” he grumbled. Knowing he couldn’t put off the inevitable forever, Castiel closed his eyes and clicked on the only unread email.

When he opened them again, his first thought was that Gabriel was pulling a prank after all.

He may not know many celebrities—but you would be hard-pressed to find anyone who didn’t recognize Dean Winchester. Castiel had never seen any of his movies, but he had seen trailers—had spotted the actor’s face on magazines when he went to check out groceries. Beyond that, the man was handsome in a way that demanded he had to be something—if not an actor than a singer or a model.

The photo at the top of the article looked like it had been taken in the midst of a family vacation to the beach—and it was clear by Dean’s completely un-staged smile that the man didn’t know it was being taken. Castiel immediately felt bad for spying on such a private moment—however unintentionally—when his gaze finally drifted to the star’s bare chest.

Though the camera wasn’t at a perfect angle to see Dean’s soulmark, it did look remarkably like…

“I’ll call you back,” Castiel shouted to Gabriel as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Holding his phone out as far as he could, he tried to take a picture of his own chest. However, he’d never used the camera setting before and winded up with one of his door instead. Switching it to “selfie” mode helped immensely. He zoomed in on the photo to get a closer look.

During the occasional moments he’d thought about it, Castiel had to admit he liked his phoenix tattoo. While it was mostly black, its wings were tipped blue, green, and purple—the colors of an oil slick—its tail surrounded by licking green flames. However, he’d never taken the time to really study the details of it before—like the way the sharp lines of its open beak contrasted the ribbon-like fluidity of the feathers, giving it the impression of motion.

And yet, in spite of the illusion that the bird changed position from one moment to the next, when comparing his picture to the one on his computer screen, the two images mirrored each other exactly.

Castiel pressed #2 on his speed dial.

“Dean Winchester’s my soulmate,” he informed Gabriel.

This story is now complete. If you’re interested, you can read more here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074931/chapters/60737890

#destiel #destiel fanfic #soulmate au #celebrity au #fanfic

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sleepymccoy · 4 years

Text

gifts

Alright, it’s just a blather with some art, but i had fun writing this out! Crowley has spent the centuries giving Aziraphale gifts that are, overwhelmingly, in poor taste

The First Present, America, 1308 AD

The conversation paused, a topic finished and the next yet to be pounced upon. A gust of wind pulled up from the canyon below their feet, whipping the loose fabric of their trousers unthreateningly.

Crowley crossed his ankles, his somehow sleek shoes knocking the rock edge they sat on. They were the tightest fitting shoes ever made on this continent, in part because they hadn't exactly been made here. Crowley has seen someone of the Sioux tribe wearing similar and had fashioned his own with a thought.

Aziraphale's shoes were much more realistic, pale woven fibre that were hanging onto his feet in terror as he absentmindedly let them sway in the breeze the Grand Canyon let rip through.

"Got you a present," Crowley muttered, pulling a rolled bit of canvas from his coat. It's was a creamy sort of colour, some marks of ink on its back, and held closed by an incongruous blue ribbon.

"Oh," Aziraphale said dumbly. He accepted as if on autopilot, watching in discomfort as Crowley handed it over and grinned as casually as he could manage. "I don't know what to say."

Crowley began to regret the idea, but what was done was done. "Open it."

"What's the occasion?"

Crowley leaned back onto his hands and glared at the stars. "Formalising the Arrangement."

"That was four years ago."

"What, are you complaining?"

"No, no, I'm sure, lovely."

Fabric whispered as Crowley glanced to the side, catching the moment Aziraphale unfurled the scroll.

Aziraphale's nervousness dissipated immediately, replaced by frustration.

"Oh, Crowley, what on earth is this," he said, not asking but complaining.

Crowley grinned and sat forward again. "Saw it, thought of you. Well, thought of me, really, but then I thought of you."

Aziraphale shook the paper and looked at it again, the sourness of his expression furthering to a degree Crowley had to call exaggerated. "I hate it, dear boy."

"What?" Crowley laughed. "But it's a picture of me!"

Crowley leaned closer, whispering like he was saying something secret. He was, really, but he was also joking. "We're connected now, angel."

Aziraphale's eyebrows flew up. "Don't say that!" He admonished. He glared at the picture again, then back to Crowley. "Oh, it's horrible,” he said fondly.

Crowley laughed and lay flat on the ground, his feet still dangling off the edge of the canyon. Aziraphale sighed and lay back with him a moment later and no more was said of the, in Crowley's opinion, very good gift.

Crowley was touched that Aziraphale at least waited until after these left to throw the canvas into the abyss. He ought not have been surprised, really, Aziraphale tended for politeness.

The Fifth Present, Italy, 1482

Crowley waited, grinning like an idiot, holding the enormous roll of fabric up. The servant he'd spoken to was taking their time, but he felt confident Aziraphale would see him today. They'd been on good terms lately. Of course, this might put a spanner in all that.

Soft footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs. Crowley adjusted his stance to be slightly more flattering.

Aziraphale grinned as he caught Crowley's eye, his eyebrows already raising in question.

"Here," Crowley said, knocking the canvas with his shoulder as if Aziraphale could miss it.

"What's this?" Aziraphale asked.

"Thought you'd appreciate it."

Aziraphale reached him, stopping a few feet short and looked warily. "It's enormous, what is it?"

"There you are," Crowley grunted, pushing the stupid thing to Aziraphale. Aziraphale, to his credit, caught it with no difficulty despite its weight. "Open it."

Aziraphale's head poked out from behind it. "What do you mean open it?"

Crowley pointed. "There's a ribbon."

"Oh dear, so there is." Aziraphale sighed at the sight of the now familiar blue ribbon. He threw a resigned glance at Crowley.

He unfurled the canvas with a deftness that only one as strong as he could. Crowley had broken a toe rolling it up, but Aziraphale didn't struggle in the slightest.

Aziraphale looked at it. He looked appreciative for a moment, then frowned, then chuckled, then frowned again and turned to glare at Crowley.

"Crowley," Aziraphale said dryly, "you have outdone yourself."

"Haven't I just?" Crowley grinned. "I got Mikey to have another go at it, with a few important details. The proper one’s in that church."

“Chapel,” Aziraphale corrected absently. He kept looking at the rough painting. "Just ridiculous," he spat. "I can't keep this, and it's rude of you to gloat!"

"That's not the point. Look, see that one? That one's you."

"Well, I hope you're pleased," Aziraphale said like he in fact hoped the opposite.

"Exalted," Crowley said lushly. “The other guy is Gabriel.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale began to roll the canvas up again, very quickly and much more smoothly than Crowley had. "Get out, I can't look at you."

"Fair enough!" Crowley laughed. He turned on his heel and sauntered away.

As he left he overheard Aziraphale sigh, "Oh dear," the chuckle quietly to himself.

The Twelfth Present, England, 1874

"You hear about selfies?" Crowley asked as he poured himself a more-than-generous serving of bourbon.

Aziraphale sat across the bookshop on the other couch, having quite a different night with his white wine and prayer book while Crowley tiptoed steadily closer to drunk while trying not to get completely miserable over the balderdash in the gossip tabloids.

"What-ies?" Aziraphale asked. He was wearing his little glasses and looked very calm and sweet. Whereas Crowley was pretty sure the new pollution in the streets had permanently stained his pants. They were a different black to what they used to be, it was annoying.

"Selfies, they're taking off. People take pictures of themselves."

"Oh," Aziraphale said, "no."

Crowley flicked the newspaper, rustling it expertly. "Well, I started it."

"Should I be putting a stop to it?"

"I suppose, if you want to, but that's not why I brought it up. I thought you'd enjoy a slice of history." Crowley fiddled with the edge of the newspaper for another moment, then went for it and plucked the piece of thin, engraved stone he's had with him all afternoon. It had a blue ribbon around it, as custom dictated. He held it out to Aziraphale. "The first selfie," he explained.

Aziraphale stood to accept it. "Oh?" He asked uncertainly.

"It's 3000 years old."

"Oh?" Aziraphale said, vastly more interested.

"These blue ribbons, Crowley," Aziraphale said as he sat done again, "they just- they just fill me with dread."

"It's nice!" Crowley laughed, the smog and the gossip of the day beginning to leave his thoughts at last. "This one's nice."

Aziraphale looked at him doubtfully, but removed the ribbon regardless. He looked down and immediately smiled, then wiped the smile from his face with an air Crowley knew to be forced. A moment of expectant waiting passed before Aziraphale gave in and chuckled.

"Liar," Aziraphale said with a smile. He looked up at Crowley. "What are you doing with your hands?"

"Peace sign."

"This is just absurd, my dear."

Crowley settled back into his cushions and grinned. "Feel free to, you know, ritually burn it like the rest."

A snap of guilt appeared on Aziraphale’s face, but it didn't last. Crowley watched as Aziraphale looked down at the stone engraving again. He wanted to apologise for the quip, but that wasn't his style. Aziraphale was all politeness, he probably didn't enjoy the part where he threw out a gift. No matter how sarcastically given.

"Of course," Aziraphale agreed quietly.

The Eighteenth Present, England, 2021

Crowley didn't knock, he just opened the shop door and entered. "Hey," he called out. He hadn't called out once and Aziraphale had been annoyed to not notice his presence for two hours.

"Oh, hello," Aziraphale greeted warmly. He sat at his desk, many books open before him. "This is a pleasant surprise, I was toying with inviting you out for dinner tonight."

"Here," Crowley didn't-explain as he threw the ribbon wrapper frame down before Aziraphale. "Where were you thinking?"

"I hadn't gotten that far." Aziraphale hadn't looked at the gift yet, he was still gazing up at Crowley.

Crowley stuck his hands in his pockets. "No?"

"Parasillo's," Aziraphale admitted easily, "it's by the river."

"Sure."

Aziraphale's smile became a grin, a beacon of light. He finally looked down at the gift. "Now, what's- oh." He trailed a finger gently along the ribbon.

Crowley shifted his weight back, eager for the laugh he was promised once Aziraphale saw what he'd been given.

But instead of opening it, Aziraphale looked up and asked, "Crowley, would you do me a favour?"

Crowley shrugged. "Sure."

"Would you clear that wall for me? Just put the bookshelf wherever seems appropriate."

"The- ?" Crowley looked at the wall Aziraphale was pointing to curiously. A chair scraped and Crowley turned back to find Aziraphale already dashing out of the room, further into his private residence. "Oka-ay," Crowley agreed, although he was alone.

Crowley touched the side of the bookshelf gingerly and pushed. It didn't move. He sighed and glared after Aziraphale.

He strolled, sexily just in case someone was watching, to one of the free standing shelves with a back. He pulled the tapestry off it and flung it over the arm of a couch that only held two blankets and could handle a third, then clicked his fingers and transported the bookshelf in place.

The revealed wall had a few cobwebs and a section of peeling wallpaper, but it was bare.

"Oh, thank you, dear, that's perfect," Aziraphale said. He placed a large wooden crate on the ground and smiled at Crowley. "Won't be a tick."

Aziraphale left again. Crowley approached the crate gingerly and was standing over it considering how to go about opening it without crossing any privacy boundaries with Aziraphale when the angel returned.

Or, more relevantly, the back of a large painting entered the room, Aziraphale's hands and legs from the knee down visible behind it.

"What…?" Crowley asked about the painting, the crate, and kind of just generally.

"Be a dear and get out of the way, would you?"

Crowley scrambled on-top of a couch and watched as Aziraphale wrangled the painting onto a perfectly placed hook in the wall. When he stepped away, Crowley recognised it.

"You kept that?" Crowley whispered. Unfortunately he spoke too soon and his voice was raw with emotion. He was touched, honestly, and more than a little overwhelmed by implications about the crate. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever given you."

Aziraphale turned and grinned. "No, dearest, it's not. That prize goes to-" he opened the crate and rummaged for a moment, then held up a small mirror with a squiggle of a snake painted onto the front, a direct copy of Crowley's tattoo and placed so that your reflection would have an approximation of his tattoo. "-this."

Crowley gaped. "You kept that!?"

Aziraphale pulled a snake skeleton made of white wood and jangled it in amusement. Then a bright yellow book called How To Summon A Demon For Dummies.

Aziraphale began decorating. Crowley stared as dumb gift after dumb gift was pulled from the box and thoughtfully placed around the shop. The mirror hung beside the door, the engraved selfie sat on Aziraphale’s desk, the illustrations of angels in compromising positions (which Crowley was very happy to see, he wanted to have another flick through that one) was slipped into a shelf. The apple-shaped phone Crowley had brought only fifteen years ago sat next to the wall phone, not plugged in yet but threatening use.

Crowley could feel himself smiling and couldn’t find a way to stop it.

“This one is horrible, mind,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley tore his attention from the first present he’d given Aziraphale, a silly sketch of a snake he’d commissioned in China, which had been kept and now sat in a tidy frame on the coffee table, and found that Aziraphale had unwrapped his present. Crowley blinked and grinned as Aziraphale held the shirt to his chest, pouting at Crowley disapprovingly. The design of the (outrageously fit and sexy) demon and angel wrapped up in each other sat across his belly.

“They're all horrible, angel,” Crowley said, so softly, because he really wanted to say how he loved Aziraphale.

Aziraphale’s pout turned into a smirk and he pulled the t-shirt on, over his vest and bowtie.

Crowley about fell off the couch laughing, only saved by Aziraphale’s quick response, then further saved by his less-quick kiss.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #through the ages

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quicksilversquared · 3 years

Text

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 5

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

"Oh my god, you guys, you'll never guess what my mom did for me!" Lila announced as she arrived at the picnic just a little bit on the late side and, other than her phone and a hastily-made Thermos of tea, completely empty-handed. If anyone asked, she would just claim that she had meant to make something, but she had overslept and not been able to start early enough to pull off what she had intended. "It was so sweet of her!"

Heads turned her way, and several of the other girls stepped closer like they were being drawn by a string. Rose was the first to speak up.

"What did she do, Lila?"

"She brought my old phone to a specialist so they could recover some of my old photos off of it- it got destroyed during one of my mission trips to South America and I lost all sorts of data!" Lila practically wilted at the 'memory'. "Thankfully my contacts were backed up in the cloud, but I lost all of my photos! All of those memories, gone! I thought that there was no way to get them back!"

Rose gasped in excitement. "But she got them recovered! That's so great!"

"Some were lost for good- most of them, actually. But I got some back and now they're on my phone and on the cloud, just in case." Lila glanced around. "I don't know if- would anyone like to see them, maybe?"

Rose nodded at once, practically teleporting to Lila's side in her eagerness to see. Alya wasn't far behind, and then Mylène and Nino came behind her. Lila beamed, pulling out her phone and swiping to open up her photos. She had stuck in some landscape photos that she had snagged online to mix it up so that not all of her photos were shots of her and famous people, but obviously the celeb shots were the star of the show.

"Oh, that's Prince Ali!" Rose said happily, half-hanging over Lila's arm to see the phone screen better. "You two definitely look close!"

"Yes, well, we've worked with each other several times," Lila told her. "So of course we're close! I took this picture maybe a year and a half ago? I was at his castle for two weeks while discussing all of the different types of charity work we were doing and ideas for going forward. It was lovely there, really. The beds were so comfortable, and the food was amazing!"

There was a chorus of 'that's so cool!'s and 'you're so lucky!'s. Lila beamed, happy with the attention, and dove into her prepared story, tying in a few of the few of stories that she had told before. More of their classmates gathered around, trying to get a glimpse of her phone. Lila held it up to show the photos off as she went, ever-thoughtful. One story turned into two, then ten, then a dozen as she flipped through the photos. It was a lot- normally she just did one story at a time, peppering them in where they were relevant- but she had been too sick to come up with many stories recently and of course the photos provided a perfect opportunity do a bit of talking.

(Maybe it was a bit too much talking, considering that she was still recovering from her illness and her throat was already sore and she was still feeling a bit faint every so often, but she was on a roll and needed to press her advantage while she had it. These photos were gold, and she needed to milk them for all they were worth.)

"Oh, those shots of you and Ladybug are great!" Alya exclaimed once Lila swiped to the first of the Ladybug pictures. Even though it was just a Ladybug look-alike, Lila had found herself gritting her teeth as she forced herself to cozy up to the sentimonster's side. She hadn't given in to the urge to punch the sentimonster in the face, just as a bit of stress relief, but that had less to do with being nice and more to do with her being worried that she was going to lose control of the sentimonster and have it turn on her. "Those must have been pretty recent, right? Were they on your old phone, too?"

"Ah- no, those were just from yesterday afternoon," Lila fibbed quickly, trying not to cringe. She probably should have held off of putting the Ladybug pictures on her phone- those would always be relevant, she could show them off some other time if she ever hit a lull in attention- but it was too late for that now. Maybe she could get a couple more posters and do another sentimonster session before Hawkmoth took the Miraculous back so that she would have more photo evidence in the future. "She was out on a run and saw me when I was on a walk to try to brainstorm ideas to help the global anti-pollution initiative with Prince Ali. Since we're friends, she decided to drop down and say hi! It was so nice of her."

"She must have been keeping a low profile," Alya commented, leaning in closer. "I didn't get any reports of superhero spottings yesterday, but I know they've been out before without people noticing! Did she help come up with any ideas?"

"No, she wanted to get going again before she got noticed and mobbed," Lila told her. "Which is understandable! She said she would think it over and get back to me if she came up with anything."

Alya nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. I'm sure she'll come up with something, though! Considering how creative she is with Lucky Charms, I bet that she'll think up something cool."

Lila tried not to let her smile get too strained as she faked her enthusiasm. "Yeah! I mean, if it's anything too out there, it might be hard to get people on board, but some out of the box ideas might just be what the world needs!"

"Would you mind sharing those photos on the Ladyblog?" Alya asked eagerly. "I always love adding good pictures of the superheroes, and those are fantastic."

Trying not to smile too obviously, Lila nodded. "Of course! That's fine." Honestly, the more people who saw it, the better. That way, if Ladybug decided to be a brat again and tried to call Lila out, it would be far easier for Lila to claim that they had had a falling out and Ladybug was being an asshole about it and for that to actually be believed. "I'll send the photos to you right away, actually, before I forget."

Alya grinned, whipping out her phone eagerly. "Great! Lemme just- ah, I should probably think of an actual article or something to go along with the photos, huh? Uh- maybe something about how Ladybug isn't just saving the world from evil, but also from pollution? Obviously I'd say that you're the one doing most of the pollution work," she added hastily to Lila. "Or two superheroines- one saving the world from supervillains, the other saving the world from pollution? I like that better! And then I'll just mention the crossover, her helping you come up with ideas and you helping her behind the scenes with akuma attacks sometimes!"

Lila nodded, attaching the photos to an email and sending it off to Alya. "That sounds good! And if you want any more details, just ask!"

"I will, trust me!"

Ten minutes later, Lila's audience started getting restless, clearly done with story time. She wrapped up quickly, claiming that she didn't want to take up everyone's time and monopolize the attention and promising to show off the remainder of the photos at school. Some people stuck around to ask a few questions, but others wandered off. Lila wasn't bothered. After all, the stories would get around eventually.

Eventually, Lila got to step away to peruse the picnic table. She didn't pick anything up since she still wasn't feeling 100% after her earlier dizzy spell, and getting nauseous and barfing would bring her a sort of attention that she didn't want, but it was a nice break from remembering all of her stories and playing her part.

The food spread looked pretty good- though Lila wrinkled her nose at an array of baked goods that had clearly come from Marinette's family's bakery- and she made a note of a few things that she wanted to try later, when she felt better. With one more glance around, Lila stepped away from the table and back towards the rest of her classmates. As she did, she nearly bumped into Marinette. The other girl's eyes narrowed at her but she didn't say anything, opting to simply walk past Lila instead.

Well. That wouldn't do.

"You missed out on seeing my pictures earlier," Lila said, raising her voice just enough that Marinette wouldn't be able to miss it. "Which is a pity, really. There were some really nice ones that my mom recovered off of my old phone. If you wanted, I could still show you a couple."

Marinette snorted. "So you've taken up Photoshop as a hobby, I take it?" she asked dryly. "And I think I'll pass on looking at the photos. If I wanted to see something that wasn't real, I'd go watch an action hero movie. That would at least be enjoyable."

Lila sniffed. "You're just so certain that they're doctored. Do you know how jealous that makes you sound? It's not a very attractive look on you at all."

"Puh-leeze. There was a photo of me and Jagged Stone on the cover of Metal Lord not even a year ago, and I've got actual selfies of me and Clara Nightingale on my phone from when she was doing her music video. I don't need Photoshop." Marinette rolled her eyes, stepping further away from Lila. "Some of us actually have the connections that you pretend to have. If anyone is jealous, it's you."

With that, she turned and left, heading across the park to join Alya and Nino and Adrien. Alya was still hunched over her phone- no doubt hastily getting a rough draft of her article done- but the others were just chatting and relaxing. The fact that Adrien was still clearly on Marinette's side was really annoying, but soon enough he wouldn't be. Not once Lila took some video of the senti-Marinette being a brat. Because it would take video to persuade him, she knew that. Photos wouldn't be enough, not when he was already suspicious of her. She would probably have to wait a week or so to actually show anyone the video, space things out to make them more believable-

Lila's breath caught in her throat as another dizzy spell washed over her. All of a sudden, she wasn't so positive that it was a good idea to come out today. She had just been recovering from a decently long sickness, and then she got up super early and had been pushing herself all day. Yeah, it had been nice to show off her photos right away, but maybe it would have been smarter to wait until Monday. Lila could have ridden out her dizzy spells at home, both the major ones and the smaller ones that had been plaguing her while she showed off her photos.

...maybe she could just sit down and she would be fine?

"Lila! Over here!" Rose called, almost as though she was reading Lila's mind. She waved and patted the bench next to her. "Max was about to start telling us about the changes he made to his game!"

Lila nearly groaned at the thought. Listening to Max meant listening to stats and graphics and coding nonsense that she really couldn't care less about. She avoided it when she could. But it also meant that she wouldn't have to talk, and if she tuned out and missed something and got asked about it, she could just claim that she had gotten lost on all of the technical details.

So really, it was practically perfect.

"What kinds of changes?" Lila asked, walking over and sitting on the fee bit of bench. "New villains?"

Max nodded, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. "That is some of it, yes. Having an ever-expanding cast of characters keeps it interesting and a challenge for those who have already played a lot and know how to defeat their opponents. There were some complaints that there were then too many rounds between the start and the boss villain, so I now have an option for people to select the number of akumas that they want to battle and which akumas they get is randomized. I also have added difficulty levels, for those wanting to deviate from the standard game. After examining the akuma stats, I have identified some that are more or less challenging than average and so the non-normal difficulty selections have a more limited pool of opponents to choose from. I also added Mayura to the game. I considered putting in Pavona, too, but..."

"She could be the boss villain for easy mode," Rose suggested. "Since she's not as good of a fighter as Hawkmoth!"

Max considered that, nodding absently. "Yes, I could see that. I have different coding for different fight levels already, so I could use the one I developed for the lowest akumas."

"The lowest akumas?" Lila asked, incredulous. "She- surely she's better than the lowest akumas, right? When she was out, she wasn't exactly just getting tossed to the side."

There was a long pause. Lila blinked, looking around.

Surely everyone could admit that Pavona wasn't completely useless on the battlefield, right? They had eyes, even if they were ridiculously biased towards the superheroes. There had been times when Pavona had been more than holding her own.

(Well. Times when she hadn't been failing spectacularly, at least, and mostly because the heroes were outnumbered, but she was choosing to ignore that.)

"I mean, I guess she's a better fighter than that giant baby," Alix offered after a long moment. "Not that that's hard, exactly. But as far as game context goes, it doesn't really make sense for the final boss to be as easy or easier than the akumas that came before it."

Max nodded, jotting that down. "That's a good point! I might make her a slight bit more of a threat than she actually is in real life, just for the game's sake. Though she does have the sentimonster thing going for her- maybe I can keep her fight level the same, but just have a couple different sentimonsters that she'll get paired with. That'll be the bit making the boss battle harder."

"That was a good point about how Pavona shouldn't be easier than the akumas in the game, Lila!" Rose chirped, beaming at her. "That'll definitely help improve the game!"

"Yeah, no problem," Lila managed, hoping that she didn't sound like she was talking through gritted teeth. She steadied herself against the table as her vision blurred out again for a moment, her mind going dizzy with it. "I'm always happy to help!"

"I think the problem that I'm facing then is coding so that Pavona and the sentimonster work together," Max said, tapping his pencil against the spine of his notebook. "And the same for the challenge mode, I think. It would have Hawkmoth and Mayura as the final boss, and they would work together. For that, some of the later levels could have randomized akuma-sentimonster pairings!"

"Ooh, good idea!"

"Nice!"

Lila tuned out as the conversation wandered off into more details of the game, improvements that could be made to the akuma powers to make them more flexible and not so fixed. Max eventually wandered off into a discussion- or a monologue, really, even while checked out Lila couldn't help but note that no one else was contributing much anything to the discussion- about coding specifics, and Lila tried not to sigh.

Boring. Boring, boring, boring.

Even after sitting and relaxing for nearly half an hour, Lila still had absolutely no appetite. In fact, the mere thought of eating much anything was making her feel a bit ill, which was a bit concerning.

And yet she found herself staring down at a full plate of food in her lap.

To her own credit, she had tried to get out of eating anything, claiming that she had woken up late and eaten breakfast late and therefore didn't have an appetite, and besides her mom hadn't remembered to buy the things she needed to make something to bring and she would feel bad about taking food when she hadn't brought any. But her classmates had insisted that it was fine, that no one blamed her for not being able to bring anything, and that really, couldn't she eat just a little? So Lila had been pretty much forced to relent and load up her plate.

Maybe she could have let on that she had a bit of lingering nausea from her illness, but she had (for once) not wanted any more attention on her. She had been completely in charge of the narrative earlier, keeping the focus and gossip on what she wanted her classmates to pay attention to, and having the talk about her turn from her celebrity connections to her mysterious illness would be not exactly ideal. An illness could push the focus on her proof to the backs of their minds, easily forgotten about given some time, and she was not about to let a little cold do that.

Lila was made of stronger stuff than that, she knew she was. After all, she was a supervillain. Things weren't going to be easy.

But it was still frustrating that the challenge was coming from something as everyday as a stupid cold.

(She should have just left it at I ate breakfast late and so I'm not very hungry and then maybe she could have gotten away with just taking a little fruit and nothing else. The comment about not having brought anything, in retrospect, made the breakfast thing sound like a flimsy excuse for not eating.)

Hopefully she would feel better again soon. It was just so stupid that she had been feeling so great, and then all of a sudden, she was feeling worse than she had before. Sure, she had been able to milk her cold for all it was worth as far as homework went, but much longer and the teachers wouldn't turn a blind eye to that anymore. And sure, she had gotten out of actually doing anything in gym while she was sick, but she could do that just as easily with a claim that her arthritis was acting up or that she had rolled her ankle the previous day.

(There was also the issue of what she could possibly do if someone brought concerns to their teachers and they insisted on calling Lila's mom. She couldn't let that happen, or else all of her hard work would be for nothing.

Maybe she could spread the lie that her mom was already on top of it and taking her in to the doctor's office for a checkup. If the teachers knew that Mrs. Rossi was already aware of Lila's health problem, then perhaps they would be less inclined to reach out as well.)

"Aren't you hungry, Lila?" Rose asked anxiously, and Lila startled out of her thoughts. She had been staring at her plate without eating anything for too long, clearly. "You've just been pushing your food around and not eating anything."

"Ah, well, I did have a late breakfast," Lila managed, doing her best to make her excuses sound confident, even as another wave of dizziness passed over her. Was it just her imagination, or were they getting more frequent? "I must have eaten more than I thought then, so I'm not very hungry yet. I- maybe I'll just set my plate away to eat later. I just couldn't resist taking some food, it all looked so good."

"Oh, okay," Rose agreed after a moment's pause. "It's too bad we don't have a heating lamp or something to keep the food warm and fresh for you! Some of it won't be as good cold."

Lila flashed her a smile. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm sure it will still be good! And if not- well, the next time we have a picnic, I'll be sure to wake up earlier or not eat as much breakfast."

"We'll have to do this again soon, then!"

Lila smiled and nodded. "That sounds fun! It'll be a good way to keep up with everyone over the summer- well, at least if I'm still in the country and not traveling. I don't know what my mom's plans are yet."

Everyone nodded, letting out little murmurs of understanding.

"Hopefully you'll get to go some cool places!" Mylène piped up. "I mean, I hope you'll be around for part of the summer so that you can go on all of the group activities like picnics and pool trips, but I know how important it is for you to get to travel and meet people who can help out with your charities and environmental work and everything!"

Lila forced another smile in the direction where- well, she could mostly see Mylène between the spots that had momentarily taken over her vision. She blinked, and her vision cleared. "Yeah, it would be nice to get to hang out and be a normal kid for a bit, but I also want to see some of my friends from other places in person again! I've been keeping in touch by email and video call, of course, but it's just not the same."

"The downside to traveling," Mylène agreed. "I've made friends while traveling before- average people, not princes and whatnot- but I never end up staying in touch with them for that long once I leave. Our emails just end up tapering off."

Several of the others nodded in agreement. Lila almost did, too- after all, she always let communications with her former classmates taper off and end after a few months after she had to move or switch schools- before she caught herself.

Right. No talking about her real life experiences, or else people would start picking up on the inconsistencies and the ways that Lila's real life didn't line up with the other stories that she had told.

The conversation slowly turned to the kinds of friendships other people had made while on vacation with their families and how long they kept communicating once they had left, and Lila tuned it out in favor of trying to force down a few bites of food. There were a couple things that weren't overly sweet or spicy that didn't make her stomach want to completely turn itself inside out, so Lila nibbled on them while she pretended to listen to her classmates blather on about completely non-impressive people who they had met.

"Lila, if you aren't hungry yet, you don't have to eat," Rose said suddenly, cutting herself off mid-sentence. She glanced over at the picnic table, then perked up. "Hey, the container I brought my salad in is empty! You could just put your food in that and bring it home to eat later if you wanted!"

"That's so kind of you, Rose!" Lila managed. Ugh, forcing herself to eat anything had clearly been a bad choice. She had thought that she would be able to handle a few bites, but she was feeling more nauseous than ever. She didn't want to let that on, though. She wouldn't. She couldn't distract from her own stories and photos by being ill. "That sounds like a great idea. I don't want the food I took to have to go to waste. I-" she cut herself off as her stomach rolled again.

Maybe talking right now wasn't the best idea.

"Let's go get it, then!" Rose chirped, popping up out of her seat. "And you can grab anything you want to eat later from the table, too, while we're doing that. I know no one's going to mind if you take stuff to go!"

Lila pushed herself to her feet to follow Rose, doing her best to act as though everything was normal as she swung her legs over the bench and started walking. Her vision had almost completely fuzzed out as soon as she got up, but she couldn't let that stop her. It would clear up soon enough, after all. It always had before.

She took one step, then another, then a third, forcing them even and casual. On the fourth, Lila felt herself wobble, suddenly both dizzy and weak.

And on the fifth step, everything went black.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #The Wavering Peahen

34 notes · View notes

mcheang · 4 years

Text

“Top 10”

This fic was inspired by my Adrien rant “My issue with Adrien” post. It doesn’t punish Adrien exactly but it does make him feel very guilty.

Lila was boasting again about her connection with Ladybug.

“Ladybug and I are practically partners outside of the mask,” she gloated.

Marinette gritted her teeth but kept her silence.

Adrien frowned but kept his face turned away.

“Ridiculous,” they heard someone else growl. The pair turned to see Chloe sulking.

“Why would Ladybug want that wannabe to be her partner. I would be so much better.”

Sabrina hurried to console her. “At least you became Queen Bee.”

Chloe nodded, appeased. “True, I have that at least.”

Lila heard of course, but said nothing. Instead she just gave a sly grin and wink to her entourage and fingered her fox pendant.

The others gasped at what she was implying. Was Lila Rena Rouge?

Alya and Nino exchanged confused glances. What did Lila think she was doing?

Lila spoke up again. “Of course Ladybug just works better with us girls of course. She’s definitely called Rena in more than Carapace.”

Nino looked wounded. Alya looked like she wanted to speak up but was torn about drawing attention to them. She didn’t want the class to be suspicious about their secret identities.

“Yeah,” another classmate said. “Chat Noir always gets hit by the akuma.”

“Wouldn’t it be cool for Ladybug to form an all-girls superhero team?” another gushed.

“Chat Noir and Carapace don’t even make the top 3,” Sabrina added, seeing Chloe look more appeased by the topic.

Nino’s face fell further when he saw that Lila wasn’t going to disagree.

At that, Marinette finally snapped. Nobody insults her friends like that.

“If that’s so, why is Chat still Ladybug’s partner? We all agree that Ladybug is the leader, but even she admits she needs Chat. Do you all honestly think you know about saving the city better than Ladybug does?”

The class stared and shifted their feet.

Marinette continued. “And Rena was called in because her abilities suited the situation at the time. Carapace’s abilities shouldn’t be doubted just on that fact alone.”

Nino and Adrien stared at Marinette like she was an angel. Alya beamed gratefully at her BFF.

Lila just smiled sweetly in her sickening way. “You forget Marinette, that I’m actually Ladybug’s BFF. I know her. You don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” Adrien finally stood up and faced her, his expression solemn. “As i recall on our first day, Ladybug herself came to the park and told me you two weren’t even friends. And after you yourself said she wasn’t in the top 10, I can’t blame her.”

An outroar came out. Lila’s entourage backed away from her in disgust. She actually said that about Paris’s beloved lady?

Nino stared at Adrien in surprise. He had never seen his bro so worked up before. But after what Lila just implied, he was willing to hear Adrien out. “Why didn’t you say anything before, man?”

Adrien looked ashamed. “Because I felt bad for Lila and I wanted to give her a chance. But clearly she hasn’t learned anything.”

Inside, Adrien was also blaming himself. He had never defended Ladybug when Lila claimed to be better than her. Now he could understand her anger and the way she had reacted. (He was currently doing the same thing anyway.) Adrien felt incredibly guilty. He had never even stood up for his lady and here Marinette had stood up for Chat. He was ashamed of himself. Some partner he was.

Alya glared daggers at Lila. “You sneak! You don’t deserve to be called a lying fox. The real foxes don’t deserve to be brought down just because you associate yourself with them. I can’t believe I actually posted an interview with you.”

Alya paused and paled. “Oh my Gosh, my blog’s reputation will be ruined!”

Naturally an akuma is attracted. But since there are so many negative emotions, Hawkmoth is having trouble choosing.

Lila would be a good ally. But she failed twice already.

Hmm...why not give Lady Wifi another chance?

Big fight. Lady Wifi actually exposes Lila’s threat to Marinette outside school. Her feigned disabilities because there is no record of her at the clinics mentioned on her doctor’s notes. Her mother’s real email address. Even her alliance with Hawkmoth on Heroes Day.

Lady Wifi is defeated but at least she got her revenge.

Ladybug arrives again to defuse the post-battle situation. She apologizes for not clearing up the matter sooner but admits she also felt bad about the way she exposed Lila, and like Adrien, wanted to give her another chance. But she cannot forgive her for insulting her male team member’s capabilities.

Alya apologizes for not verifying with Ladybug.

Adrien steps forward and also apologizes to Ladybug. He admits he’s a fan of hers but he never stood up for her. Ladybug forgives him, after all, he was in awe of the possibility of knowing a superhero. (Adrien still feels terrible about his role.)

Lila is in trouble for her truancy. She is expelled, which is just as well because she needs a new start.

Alya posts an apology and takes down Lila’s interview.

The class makes a party for Marinette to apologize and to thank her for being with them. (Wow there is a lot of apologies in this fic...)

Chat even arrives and gives a cheek kiss to thank Marinette for her passionate defence. Alya got it on film.

Adrien himself has learnt his lesson. From that point forth, he can never hear a word against his partner without speaking up on her defense. (Not that he has much chance to show his defensive support because hardly anyone criticises Ladybug.) He doesn’t have to defend Chat Noir, Marinette already does that.

Plagg cheers Adrien up. So he made a mistake. Just learn from it and move on already! It’s not as if Tikki held a grudge against him for doing nothing when that liar insulted her powers. Tikki doesn’t care about that stuff.

But, Adrien argues, he cares about Ladybug. He wants to do more than the bare necessity.

And he does. Risking his father’s anger, Adrien commissions Marinette to make a T-shirt saying “Ladybug is my hero.” He even suggests she make one for Chat.

She does so. They wear their respective t-shirts and take a selfie together. Adrien posts it on his Instagram.

Gabriel can get angry, but Adrien is ready for the lecture. He won’t regret declaring his support for Ladybug. And he certainly won’t ever stop. (Just like how Marinette can’t help defending her kitty every time.)

@alissasmith21

595 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 2 years

Note

Today (yesterday?)'s been shit so let's gooo

LEXI!!!

Hopefully we can get some communication

SLEEP IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING

the real tragedy would be if anything happened to dorian

MY GIRL IS SEVENTEEN TODAY THEY ARE GROWIGNG

Aww she just whispered it and left...

selena's sleeping...like actually sleeping

god that is some good shit

GABRIEL

“Nope. Rapunzel is currently on Sleeping Beauty mode.”

LMAO I-

oh fuck it's also the day she met michael

“No. Of course not. She wouldn’t want that. Just…Fuck Michael, okay? We just need to remind her that she still has so much love in her life.”

Lexi smiled at that. “I think I can do that.”

She banged the bedroom door open back again and jumped on her twin. “SELENA! I LOVE YOU!”

first of all, yes!!! give her all your love!!

lexi i see you took that a little too literally but yes as you should

“Y’all cute,” Lexi pointed out.

MOOD

liv isn't coming...?

or maybe like gabriel she didn't realise you had to rsvp

LEXI! TALK TO HER! AND RUN AWAY!

YOU CAN FLY

FLY AWAY

AWW THEY DID GET TO GO TO DISNEY

oh shit medical emergency

ok but genuiely do shadowhunters not have iratzes?

just saying...

Even if Selena's likes doing this, y'all need to learn how to do first aid smh

i hit my head the other day, why does it still hurt

ouch

ok anyway

“And those cracks hold many traumatic memories,” Lexi said dramatically. “Memories that can only be replaced with the latest iPhone.”

LMAO LEXI-

so true baby you deserve a new one

JACE TOTALLY DID

AYYY THE BASKETBALL EQUIPMENT IS HERE YAY

It used to be an empty space.

A place where they would train or clean their weapons or practice their runes.

But it was a place where they could relax and play.

Because of Rafael.

I feel so happy everytime it comes up how rafael made these changes

im so proud

there is no way the hoop is taller than david how is he standing under it

FAIRIE BUILDERS

JACE SHDUYSUHDYU

ooo this sounds good

sigh...lexi you have wings

oh no wait-

lexi you can fly

FLY TO LA

I miss her because I love her.

you will find me in the corner crying

actually no i think i have dehydrated myself enough yesterday so no crying

but i will be sitting there in the corner in my despair

SDBUIYDCSUHKDF JACE AND SIMON-

LMAO DAVID UNDERSTOOD THE ASSINGMENT

David’s arm was stretched out, holding the phone to take the selfie. His face was scrunched up, his blue eyes closed, as if he was giggling – probably because Max was licking his cheek.

THIS IS SO ADORABLE

She had given too many excuses. She had overcompensated.

lexi...im sorry

im sure she had a good reason

This is what happened when you didn’t have shit to do.

You do dumb shit instead.

so true bestie

all the time

aww their friendship

AHH SHE WANTS TO GO TO THE TOKYO INSTITUE FOR HER TRAVEL YEAR

“I have a gift for you,” Georgia said softly when they went back to her bedroom.

“I love it!” Lexi said.

“I haven’t even shown you what it is,” her parabatai pointed out.

“But I already know it’s some dope shit,” Lexi grinned.

IT TOTALLY WILL BE

OMG DID GIGI MAKE HER A SWORD???

“Why would I need a feather from Raziel?” Gigi asked. “I have you.”

so you want me to cry? because i dont think i have enough water in my body

im gonna go buy some gatorade soon but still

HOLY SHIT THIS SWORD

Be Gay. Do Crime.

it's the best thing ever

“You don’t have to do things to be amazing, Lexi. You are amazing because of who you are. And that’s enough.”

EXACTLY

YOU ARE SO AMAZING LEXI AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

OMG THEY ARE SPYING ON SELENA AND GABRIEL

David, being David, smiled on command.

that's so cute

MAX AHJYGYUUYTYFYT

they basically shopped in the same section.

I CHOKED

gasp

selena's wearing a crop top

this is the cutest shit ever omg they are all having fun and they are alive and happy

Of course, Selena had invited a silent brother to her birthday party. Lexi couldn’t help but smile at that.

“You look like you are good at brooding,” Lexi pointed out. “Sit here and brood with me.”

She expected him to metaphorically roll his eyes and give a finger and walk away.

But he sat down. On the fucking edge.

aww selena invited him

LMAO THEY ARE BOTH JUST SITTING THERE-

HAS HE BEEN SPYING ON THEM OR SOME SHIT???

I have been through this enough times with your ancestors. So, I will spare you of the drama and the pain. Go tell her you like her. That’s all you need to do.

SO TRUE BESTIE

oh...oh my god olivia got her the potion

Alexandra. Do not make me push you off the rooftop.

LEXI STOP BEING IN DENIAL

Believe me. You are not the first Herondale to drag yourself into such a mess.

you really are not

sigh, james

She could always count on her ancestors to keep the bar low when it came to quality decision-making.

SO FUCKING TRUE

Nothing, Brother Enoch said, There is no wrong way to love.

Lexi bit her lip. “But what if it’s toxic?”

If it is toxic as you say, then it is not love. It is something else.

YES!!!!

Lexi it is not too late

go to her

I’ve become somewhat fond of the Herondales. I blame this ailment entirely on Jem Carstairs.

“Ailment?” Lexi demanded with a grin. “Please. You love us.”

That would be a gross exaggeration, the silent brother said, Now go. Talk to her. I’m done with Herondales pining for this century.

LMAO JEM-

THIS IS SO CUTE

he old

SHE GOT HER HGIH FIVE

It was Achilles who opened the door, rubbing his eyes. He gasped in shock. “Oh my god, it’s happening!”

LMAO ACHILLES IS SUCH A MOOD

“I was literally more likely to be attacked by a demon than be visited by you.”

Oh shit

they are both idiots

“This fake thing we did?” Lexi asked. “It was the realest shit I’ve done.”

im actually tearing up dude wtf

THEY KISSED EVERYONE SHUT UP

The kiss was very good and very gay.

of course, have a good day

“You had a fucking angel inside you, Lex,” Liv’s pointed out.

Cause that's just a thing people told her now.

that's just the new norm

“It wasn’t because you had extra angel,” the girl said softly. “You survived all of that because that’s who you are. You are strong and you are amazing, and you are the most incredible person I’ve met.”

olivia be spitting facts

FUCK RAZIEL YEAH

“Fuck Raziel,” Lexi said again. “You’ve always been my angel. Olivia. You are the only angel I care about.”

oh my god oh my god oh my god

YES THEY ARE DATING FOR REAL

the tokyo institute seems so cool omg

“Did you seriously just book a date with me one year into the future?” the other girl chuckled.

“No,” Lexi said and pulled back. “I booked a date with you for the rest of my life.”

HOLY SHIT THEM OMG OMG OMG

IM SO IN LOVE

AWW SHE FELL ASLEEP

“Then it would be nice of Herondales to pass down something other than recklessness and a complete disregard for safety.”

true asf

i wouldnt say all nephillim...ok maybe clary's right

“Lexi. Look at me,” her mother said fiercely. “You don’t need special powers to help other people. You can just do it like everyone else. All you need is a good heart.”

“But what about the flying?”

“You keep that for yourself,” her mother smiled. “You don’t have to use every part of yourself to make others happy. You are allowed to keep something for yourself.”

do what feels right to you

and don't let anyone else tell you what "right" should be

you'll be fine, love

“Then that’s fine too,” her mother smiled. “All that matters is that you live a life that makes you happy. So, all you need to do is figure out what that is. That’s going to take time, baby. And that’s good. Take your time to figure out what you want and what makes you happy. Don’t rush this. It’s too important.”

EXACTLY

As long as you're happy, it doesn't matter

The swors's name is pressure...it's nice

“The sword. I’m going to call it Pressure,” Lexi explained, picking up the golden sword. “I can’t change my last name. It’s not easy for me. It's never been easy for me. But it’s not easy for whoever is going to come after me either, isn’t it? This pressure won’t go away. We’ll just keep passing it down. So, we might as well pass something else too. A good pressure. Something they don’t have to fight. Something they can fight with.”

lexi...Lexi im so proud of you

I love you so damn much

oh my god I am just realizing it is ending...I am going to miss her so much I already do.

I am so proud of her, she deserves everything good and more.

You remind me so much Lexi.

And I am very proud of you too.

And you deserve everything good and more.

#ily kay bye #evie boo thang #lbaf

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p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

Longest Night (43) Eating

Ao3 | FF.net

Bonus Scene from last Chapter:

Emilie reclined on the couch next to her husband. She had a glass of whiskey in her hand, her drink of choice. A silken robe covered her form as she rested against the plush cushions.

But she was not relaxed. Not in the slightest.

Gabriel had pulled up the Ladyblog on the smart TV and proceeded to go down the timeline of akumas. Thankfully, Alya had organized the blog to skip all the theories and fluff articles. Only the actions of the heroes and Hawkmoth were shown.

Emilie had scooted away from him when he said, “I was a terrorist.” But she stayed long enough to hear that none of his damage or casualties were permanent. And that he had some regret about his actions. He had been desperate to get her back, and admitted that he had crossed the line so many times.

So now he was admitting to all of his crimes. He was coming clean to her, so she could judge him fairly and for herself.

“I had no idea that Adrien was Chat Noir. I didn’t know until his identity was revealed.”

Emilie found this to be a lie, however, since he reached an Akuma in the timeline when he suspected Adrien to be Chat Noir.

Gorizilla, that was the name. The bodyguard Emilie had known forever was the poor victim. He had turned into a giant blue ape and had Adrien in his grasp.

And then...and then...

Emilie watched in horror as the Akuma dropped her son, her baby, off the side of the building.

“I had hoped that he would transform to save himself, but he very cleverly called my bluff—“

The glass of whiskey was now empty, as it’s contents were in his face.

Perhaps he had been too honest.

“My baby!! My precious little boy! My innocent sweet sunshine boy! You let him get thrown off of a roof on a hunch?!??”

“I wasn’t going to let him hit the bottom. Ladybug saved him.”

“WELL I’M GLAD SOMEONE WAS ON TOP OF IT!” She shouted. “I can’t believe you! Of all the low down, dirty, rotten, conniving tricks!”

“Emilie please—“

“I should throw you off the building and see how you like it!”

“Please calm down.”

“Calm down?! CALM DOWN?!” She found one of her heels she had kicked off earlier. “Gabriel Maurice Agreste! I’m going to murder you!”

He looked at her flatly. “We haven’t even gotten to the worst part.”

Emilie’s primal scream of rage made something click in his brain.

It was time to go.

To say that Tom, Sabine, and Gabriel were surprised would be an understatement.

There, standing at the top of the stairs, arm and arm, were Ladybug and Chat Noir. Not Adrien and Marinette, but the costumed heroes that everyone loved. With added hats and scarfs to protect from the December air.

Tom was the first to recover and gave them a disarming smile. “Hey kiddos! Where’s the fire?”

“No fire.” Said Ladybug. “Ice Cream.”

“Ice cream? In January?” Asked Gabriel. “If you want Ice Cream, you could have just asked.”

Ladybug shook her head. “Alya figured out where Andre’s Ice Cream cart is. We want to go.”

“Okay, well, we could drive you—“ started Sabine.

“No!” Ladybug shouted. “I need to get out of this house or I’m going to explode! I need to get away from the smothering! I need to feel the sun on my skin and the wind—“ she choked. “I need to get out there for just a little while.”

“Your suits will draw attention.” Gabriel said it as a thought to be considered, and not a warning.

“I know. But won’t it help? Isn’t everyone asking about us?”

Tom gave a little smile. “What’s the harm? Can you just text us when you get there?”

“I can do that.” Ladybug smiled.

Gabriel spoke up. “Did you make sure Adrien wanted to go?”

“It was his idea.” She said cooly.

“Well, I have been disarmed.” Gabriel shrugged. “Just please be careful.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Ladybug assured.

After they both left, Tom looked at his wife and Gabriel. “They amaze me. They are doing so well!”

“I agree. Especially Marinette,” said Gabriel. “For her to not be afraid to go out in their suits...”

“I think the suits are for strength.” Added Sabine. “For them to be able to walk that far, and for protection.”

“That makes sense.”

She frowned. “Actually, I think it’s the suits that are letting them do this well. I found them sleeping in them the other night.”

Tom winced. “That’s not a great sign.”

Gabriel screwed up his lips in thought.

—

Outside the mansion, Ladybug and Chat Noir descended the stairs and went out to the gate. It was at the point where the media no longer lingered outside the mansion. No one had gotten a glimpse of the heroes, and they weren’t likely to for a while still.

“Do you want to walk? Or take the roofs?”

“Walk. I’m still not strong enough for rooftops.”

“Okay. He’s not that far from here.”

They made their way, hand and hand, to the Ponts des arts.

As they walked, occasionally they were bugged by passerby. Mostly with handshakes and cheek kisses, occasional selfies. Thankfully, since it was January, there weren’t a lot of pedestrians.

Finally, they reached the bridge. Andre spotted them from the other side. “Ladybug! Chat Noir! Oh my favorite duo!”

Ladybug gave a soft smile to the man. “Hello Andre. One please.”

“Of course! On the house!” He prepared a cone, and started to scoop. “One scoop mint chip, for Chat Noir. One scoop cherry chip, for Ladybug, and one scoop cookies and creme, for true, pure love, riddled with trials and tribulations.” He stuck two spoons in the ice cream and handed it over. “Come see me whenever you like. You’re always welcome here!”

“Thank you. This looks delicious!”

It was unseasonably warm. Sitting on a bench looking out on the river, ice cream in hand, everything felt normal for a little while. A lovely ice cream date, something Marinette had always wanted to do with Adrien.

He let out a long sigh.

“Are you okay? Comfortable?”

“I’m fine.” He smiled at her. “My butt hurts a little, but I’ll survive.”

“We don’t have to stay long. We’ll just finish our ice cream.”

“No, you were right,” he breathed. “Just being outside for a while is nice.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I can’t believe how much I missed this. It wasn’t that long but…”

“The sunlight.” Ladybug finished for him. “It’s nice. I can feel it.”

“And the wind. And hearing the birds. Hearing the water. It’s all nice.”

They ate in companionable silence for a while. Living in the moment with blank minds.

“Hey, you beat us!” Alya called as they approached.

“We decided to get out before school let out and everyone ruined our fun.” Said Ladybug.

Alya and Nino got their ice cream and joined them on the bench.

“So, how’s the dynamic duo today? Haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time with you since we both moved back home.”

“Well, we have sweethearts ice cream. Not much to complain about.”

“Anybody give you trouble on the way out?”

“A couple people wanted pictures, and to express sympathy. It wasn’t bad.”

“It helps that it’s not tourist season, and it’s a weekday.”

“I’m sure. What kind of ice cream did you get?”

“Neapolitan. Or as Andre now calls it, Ninopolitan. Just for us.”

“That’s adorable.”

“I’m not usually a fan of strawberry ice cream either, but Andre’s is so good.”

“His chocolate is amazing.” Added Nino. “I want him to make my wedding cake out of it.”

“What, you don’t want my dad’s better-than-crack chocolate cake?”

“Half and half!” He protested. “I shouldn’t have to choose!”

Chat Noir smiled broadly, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

“Oh, before I forget. Did Chloe tell you about the Mayor’s ball a few weeks out?”

Ladybug groaned. “Yeah. The supposed ‘Hero’s Ball’ in honor of Chat and I? No thanks.”

“It can’t be too bad. A chance to get all gussied up, eat good food, and mingle with rich people.”

“Old Marinette would be excited, but...”

“You’ve got to stop referring to yourself like that, girl. You’ve changed, but you’re not a totally different person.”

She laughed. “I’m not?”

“A lot different, but there’s plenty of things I recognize. Right now, you seem to be doing really well. Besides the hair cut, you can hardly tell.”

“That’s good then.” Said Ladybug. “As long as someone recognizes me.”

“Are you designing a dress for the ball?”

“Gabriel and I are collaborating.” She stated it so plainly, like she didn’t even care. “He found a design he liked in my sketchbook, and he’s altering it. Same for Adrien. He’s designing a dress for my mom from scratch.”

“Oh that’s cool!”

“Poor man, he’s trying so hard to be a good father, but he’s so awful at it.”

Chat Noir snorted.

“He doesn’t get points for trying?”

“No. Not when he’s being awful when it matters. I’ve been yelled at for talking for Adrien, since he still isn’t ready to speak. Gabriel is impatient and bossy. He’s plenty generous, but he lacks understanding.”

“And it’s easy to be generous when you’re rich.” Added Nino.

Chat nodded in agreement.

“How are you today, bro?” Nino asked.

Chat shrugged, and pointed to his ice cream with his spoon.

“Gotcha.”

As they say, all good things must come to an end. And the simple peaceful outing turned into chaos when one person shouted. “There they are! It’s Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

From both ends of the bridge, people came running. Calling out for attention. Swarming.

“We didn’t even get to finish our ice cream,” Ladybug lamented.

Chat Noir, however, trembled at the noise and shifted closer to her, Alya, and Nino.

Alya stood, allowing Nino to wrap a protective arm around both of the heroes.

“Back!” Alya shouted at the crowd, raising her hands. “Back, you animals!”

The mob heeded her commands and stopped just a few feet away.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are not ready for visitors! They aren’t doing autographs, and they aren’t doing hugs! They’re just out for ice cream and sunshine! So be on your merry way please!”

“Ladybug!” A little girl cried out. She weaseled her way through the crowd and ran at them, ignoring Alya completely to crash into Ladybug’s legs and nearly crawl into her lap.

“Hey!” Alya shouted. “What did I just say?”

“I’m so so sorry!” A woman called, catching up with the girl. “She’s just so excited! She loves Ladybug!”

“It’s alright.” Ladybug assured, petting the girl’s head. “How are you Eva?”

The girl beamed. “You remembered my name!”

“Of course I do. I’d remember any akuma that took six hours to beat.”

The girl giggled. “Sorry not sorry!”

Ladybug lifted the girl so she could properly sit on her lap, while the rest of the crowd stood back and listened.

“How are things at home? Did they ever get better?”

Eva gave a little shrug. “Mommy and daddy ended up getting divorced. But now that they don’t live in the same house, they get along a lot better. Sometimes we have dinner together. It still hurts, but at least they don’t yell anymore!”

“I’m really glad to hear that. I’m sorry that they divorced. That’s never an easy thing to go through, but I’m glad things worked out.”

“What about you? Are you feeling better?”

Ladybug swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m…I’m doing alright. Somedays are better than others. Today we felt good enough to go out and get some ice cream.”

“Ice cream makes everything better!”

She smiled. “It sure does.”

“What about you, Chat Noir? How are you?”

He nodded with a smile.

“He said he’s good.” Provided Ladybug.

“Oh yeah, his voice hurts. That happened to me last year. I coughed and coughed and then I sounded like a frog. Do you sound like a frog when you talk?”

He shook his head.

“No? Well that’s good! Wouldn’t sound much like a cat if you croaked!” She reached up and petted Chat Noir’s head like a real cat.

He couldn’t help but purr.

“Oops, you found his soft spot.” Ladybug snickered.

Eva giggled and scratched him again. “What kind of ice cream did you get?”

“Mint chip, cherry chip, and cookies and creme.”

“Cookies and creme is my favorite! Did you like it?”

“I did! Though, I don’t think there’s any bad ice cream.”

“I do! My dad likes pistachio ice cream! Bleh!”

“Oh but pistachio is good!”

“No it’s not! It tastes like butt!”

Ladybug laughed. “Why don’t you ask your mom for some ice cream?”

“Oh hey yeah! That’s a great idea!”

The woman with Eva came closer. “Can I get a picture with you together?”

“Sure.”

“Mom! Get Chat in the picture too!”

Chat Noir leaned in, as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

A click, and Eva was scampering off of her lap. “It was nice seeing you Ladybug! I’m going to get ice cream now!”

Ladybug smiled at her. “I’m glad we could talk, Eva. That was nice. See you later.”

“Later!”

Ladybug let out a blissful sigh. The crowd was still surrounding them, waiting to be prompted.

“I’m kinda tired.” She announced. “What about you, kitty?”

Chat nodded and yawned.

“They’re going to go home now folks! Go on, get!” Alya shooed them away. “Sorry your outing was interrupted.”

“Mmm, actually, that wasn’t as bad as I was expecting.”

—

Adrien awoke from his nap feeling only a little groggy. He was down to one nap a day now, though it still usually lasted over an hour.

Marinette laid in his arms, her back pressed against his chest. It looked like she was awake as well, as she scrolled through her phone.

Adrien nuzzled closer, pressing a kiss behind her ear. “Whatcha reading?” He asked softly.

“Ladynoir FanFiction.”

He chuckled softly. “I thought you hated our FanFiction.”

“I did. But not so much anymore. Alya said a lot of authors on the blog are going back and editing their stories, so that our names and backgrounds are right. It’s kind of fun to see what people assume about us. The innocent things, like what our favorite Pokémon is and what flavors of ice cream we like.”

“Hmm.” Adrien hummed in her ear, savoring that perfect level of comfort. “What is your favorite Pokémon, my lady?”

“According to fics, it’s Ledyba.”

He scoffed.

“But I think I like Spheal. He’s a spherical seal. He’s a good boy.”

“He is a good boy.” Adrien said sleepily. “Wanna guess mine?”

“Is it Arcanine?”

“...yeah, it’s Arcanine.”

She giggled, turning her phone off and turning to face him. “I’m afraid you’re an open book to me.”

“Only to you.” He promised, kissing her swiftly.

There came a knock at the door.

“Adrien? Are you awake?” Gabriel’s voice came from the hall.

“He’s awake,” Marinette answered for him.

They adjusted themselves to be a little more presentable as Gabriel entered. He actually looked nervous, and excited? It was hard to tell on a man so stoic. He rubbed his hands together. “So, Adrien, we have a guest joining us for dinner tonight, and I thought you might want to see her first.” He beckoned the guest at the door.

Seeing Aunt Amilie, even after all this time, made his heart squeeze. She looked just like his mother, right down to the side ponytail.

Wait.

Was this some sort of joke? Amilie was in white, and her hair was tied on the other side, just the way his mother used to—

“Hi Hunny Bunny.” Her voice was so soft, so gentle. Tears gathered in her eyes as her hands raised up for him. “Look at how much you’ve grown!”

All of a sudden, he wasn’t in his bedroom. He was in that cold dark room, where they had been kept in crude cages. He was looking at the corpse with his mother’s face on it.

Then it morphed into everything wrong. Mouths for eyes, snakes for teeth, dripping fingers, as she just continued to smile at him. “It’s me, Adrien…I’m home.”

Adrien shook his head frantically, trying to shake the vision. But it wouldn’t leave. It was acid, wasn’t it? LSD? That’s what Dr. Boucher said was in his system. That hallucinations he had down in the catacombs would continue to haunt him. They were as unpredictable as they were vivid.

“Adrien honey?” Her voice was too sweet. It was wrong. Why was she here?

Adrien scrambled off the bed, placing himself opposite of the mattress from her, and he watched her with careful eyes.

“Adrien,” Gabriel tried. “It’s alright, your mother is home now. She’s back.”

Between the horrible visions and twisting thoughts, he had half a mind to take offense. She was back? She was fine all this time? Where was she? Why did she leave him alone? He couldn’t find any joy in the utter wrongness of it all. It made no sense, and it felt like some sick twisted joke.

His eyes wandered over to the windows on the other side of the room. His reflection was so small, so disgustingly thin and dirty, bloody, and pale. And her reflection…

It wasn’t his mother.

Gabriel nervously bit his thumb, waiting for Adrien’s reaction. So far, he just sat there, staring at her with impossibly wide eyes. Then he scrambled out of the sheets, his eyes never leaving her face. But there was no smile, no disbelief, no awe. Just shock and fear.

“Adrien, it’s alright. Your mother is home now. She’s back.”

Adrien quaked in his spot, shaking like a leaf, ready to burst. His listless eyes turned and caught sight of something in the window.

Gabriel never did know what his son saw, but whatever it was, it was horribly upsetting.

Terrible enough to rip that scream from his throat. Frightening enough make him flail his fists around, at him, at Marinette, and his own mother.

“Hunny bunny?” she asked once more, pleading with him.

It didn’t work. It only further exasperated Adrien, so that he shouted at her, like if he yelled loud enough she was disappear in a puff of smoke.

That’s when Gabriel conceded that his plan had failed epically. He grabbed Emilie’s wrist and pulled her from the room, as Adrien continued to scream after her.

Sabine caught her in a hug just outside the door. “It’s alright, dear.”

Emilie clung to her. “He doesn’t know me!”

“Of course he does,” Sabine soothed. “He’s just confused right now.”

Gabriel had made sure to close the door as they left, but it did nothing to suppress the noise from the room. The banging, the crashing, the clattering of books and trophies being flung off the shelves.

And Marinette’s rational voice trying to reach him.

“I hate her!” He yelled, like an arrow to Emilie’s heart. “She’s a liar! That’s all she’s ever been! I hate her! I hate her!”

Gabriel pressed a kiss to his wife’s head. “He doesn’t, he loves you so much.”

“Where did so go?! Why did she leave me alone with—with him?!” He voice broke off into ugly sobbing.

“Oh my baby boy,” Emilie wept. “My poor baby…”

“Well, I really hate to be the one that told you so…” Plagg spoke, phasing through the door.

“Don’t sound so smug.” Gabriel bit.

“I’m not. I swear I’m not.” His ears hung sadly. “But’s like I said. He doesn’t know where she’s been. To him, she ran away without a word, and she’s only coming back now? Because of what? The fact that he was tortured on screen?”

Emilie covered a mouth to hold back a sob.

“That’s not what happened, and you know it!” Gabriel yelled back.

“Of course I know! But he doesn’t! And you’re going to have to explain all of it to him.”

“What do you mean, ‘all of it’?”

Plagg looked at him levelly. “If you want Adrien to accept his mother, you’ve got to tell him about being Hawkmoth.”

Gabriel looked at the door. “Do you think he’s ready? Either of them are ready?” Plagg shrugged. “His world is rocked either way. I think you’ve got to decide which parent he needs more. Because the way I see it, he’ll reject the other. Maybe both of you.”

Emilie and Gabriel shared a very meaningful look.

Finally, Emilie hugged Sabine. “You’ll go comfort him, right? He needs a mom right now.”

“Of course dear.” Sabine opened the bedroom door slightly and crept inside. Emilie watched from the crack as she approached Marinette and Adrien, who were huddled together in a corner. It didn’t take any convincing for both of them to accept her embrace.

“I’ve missed so much.” Emilie whispered, teary-eyed.

Tom squeezed her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Gabriel sighed. “And hopefully, you won’t have to miss anything more. I’ll tell them tomorrow. Even if…even if Adrien hates me, he deserves my honesty. And…I haven’t been very good to him since this whole mess started. You’ll be better for him, I know.”

“Gabe…”

“It’s alright. I suppose this is my punishment. But as long as Adrien gets everything he needs, then it’s all worth it.”

#ML #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #adrinette #longest night #fanfiction

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ranger-jedi-knight · 4 years

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Angel Wings Darken Part 4

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286832/chapters/64065646

Ok, so here’s the next part!! We get to see Gab’s, Nat’s, Sabine’s, and Tom’s reaction~!

“-I’m helping Joker. and Hawkmoth, Mayura, if you know what's good for you, leave your miraculous at my balcony unless you want to see what a protege of Joker can do,” ice filled Gabriel’s veins as he heard that. Nathalie froze behind him, her tablet falling from her numb fingers. They barely heard the crack over the buzzing in their ears as they watched her lips turn into a sinister smile. They barely were able to register what was happening on the screen in front of them.

It wasn’t until the screen froze on the retreating back of Marinette, Damian, and Chloe were they able to move.

“Sir, what are we going to do?” Nathalie asked shakily as in the corner of the screen they watched the comments blow up in confusion and fear and anger. “Y-you know what the Joker can do. If-if he really did turn her evil, what could she do to us that’s worse than following her demands?” Nathalie asked, somehow only stumbling a couple of times.

Gabriel’s eyes couldn’t leave the screen as TViNews popped up with an enlarged picture of Bug’s sinister smile. He barely heard the news anchor-Prime Queen he realized-talking. He couldn’t turn away from the grin or cold eyes. He felt trapped by them, feeling like they were staring directly at him, like she could see what he was doing right then.

And he didn’t like that feeling at all.

“W-e need to first deal with the press. Act like we were being tricked. Send out a public apology and cut any and all ties to Ms. Rossi. As for Adrien, I’m not sure. One thing for sure, we can’t use him as a model anymore. Make sure any lawyer contacted to help Adrien, whether our own or a public servant, knows to comply with the plaintiff’s wishes. We do not want this excelating any further.”

“Sir?”

“What?” he demanded looking over at her with a glare as his thoughts ran around trying to ignore the threat Bug gave him. He was trying to process this, trying to understand how his greatest foe was the same person as the one he tried getting akumatized and also working for him. He just couldn’t see how Ladybug = Marinette. They seemed like entirely two different people.

But alas.

It was true.

“Should we do what she asks, sir?” Gabriel turned back to the screen grimacing when he heard her cackle as someone analyzed the footage again. Seeing her grin once more, his skin started crawling. I never knew someone one so heroic and kind could be so chilling and disturbing, he thought tensing up.

“I need some time to think. For now, do what I said. The longer we say nothing, the bigger a risk we have of the public turning against us and tanking our stocks. We can’t have that that happen,” he snapped out and Nathalie startled but nodded, bending over to pick the cracked tablet before going to her desk quickly.

As soon as the door closed, Gabriel held his head in his hand, messing up his carefully done hair as pins ran throu him. “God have mercy,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They couldn’t believe it….

Their baby….

a monster.

But maybe….maybe they could get her back?

Surely, if they talk to her they could get her to go back to being their precious baby girl. Their kind, helpful daughter.

Yeah.

They can do that. Talking to their daughter, telling her how much they miss her, that’ll surely get her to come back to her senses. With a determined look, the two went back to work, listening as the people that came into the bakery gossiping about what happened.

“-Yes, you heard that correctly, Paris. Mayor Bourgeois and the Board of Education are having the students involved in the attack come back to Paris by tomorrow. Mayor Bourgeois is having his daughter Chloe stay behind to try getting Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as Ladybug, to come back to Paris. Will she succeed? Stay tuned to learn if she did,” Nadja’s voice startled them as they worked. They turned when they heard the repeat. The class photo was on the screen showing a time that was an estimate of when the Mayor hoped to get the class back in Paris.

When talking about Chloe and the girl they used to see as their daughter-but they hoped they could get her back- they showed a picture of the two at the park across from them beaming. They scowled at the image.

At the reminder.

It was all her fault.

Had Chloe stayed away…

Their darling daughter wouldn’t have changed. As soon as Marinette got back, they were going to keep her away from that girl.

Away from the girl that turned her into that monster.

Lila may have lied about some things, but she was correct that their daughter had changed. But they were going to change her back.

Marinette didn’t have a choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sir, she’s here,” Nathalie called showing him the footage of the plane landing. It was a private jet. The same one Chloe posted a selfie with saying they were going to Paris for the lawsuits. It was early. No doubt most everyone would be home getting ready or asleep.

“We have no choice. Take them. Put them on her balcony,” Gabriel said with a defeated sigh as he gestured to the broaches and book.

“Even the book, sir?” She had a look of shock on her face, even when he nodded again.

“Yes, even the book. There’s no point in keeping it if we don’t have the miraculouses. I need to give up. I can’t win. And I doubt she’ll want to revive Emilie after everything that’s happened. When you get back we’ll finally put her to rest,” he said with a sigh, glancing at the portrait behind him.

“Of course, sir,” she picked up the items, Dusuu and Nooru floated next to her as they left his office. Reaching the bakery, she went to the side next to an alley and held the broaches loosely in one hand and held the book out. “Goodbye,” she muttered softly and the two kwami looked at her sadly, but they were happy to finally be free. Together, they put their broaches on the book and then carried the book up. When she saw that they were over the railing, Nathalie turned away. She could only sigh as she sat in the car heading back to Agreste Manor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sabine smiled when she watched the footage of Marinette’s plane landing. “Tom, she’s here!” she called out and Tom nodded heading to the front. They watched as Marinette transformed and swung away from the airport. Closing up the shop, they made their way to the courthouse. Lots of people were trying to get in, but because they were the parents of Marinette, the witness here, they were let in.

All they could feel was shock.

They couldn’t believe the look their daughter had on her face.

As she watched Lila be chained to her seat. They didn’t even hear the added charges to Lila’s case. They couldn’t hear anything. Buzzing was the only thing they could hear. When Marinette left after hearing that everyone was guilty, they followed after her. Sabine caught her daughter's arm before she left the steps. “Marinette.”

Marinette turned with an icy look. She held no warmth in her eyes looking between her mother and father. “What?” she asked, watching as Damian and Chloe came closer to them.

“What? What do you mean ‘what’? We’re your parents Marinette. Aren’t we allowed to talk to you? You must have been terrified when the Joker took you. Surely now that your safe from him, you can drop this act? Go back to being our baby girl. You’re safe now. There’s no need to be scared of him anymore,” Sabine said and Tom came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders.

“Ha!” she ripped her arm from Sabine’s grip with a scornful laugh. “You truly don’t know me at all if you think I’m scared of Joker,” she started but then turned away and started walking down the steps, Chloe and Damian coming to her sides. While he was still apprehensive, he knew she wasn’t going to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it.

“Marinette! Come back here!” Sabine shouted, unaware of the people gathering to watch.

“Sweetie, you can be honest with us. No need to pretend,” Tom tried and Marinette whipped around to glare at the two. The couple froze from where they had started to move, their bodies acting like they were statues instead of living, breathing people.

“There’s no pretending here. You’re just in denial about the truth. That I never will, and never have been the daughter you think I am in your heads. Joker….he’s many things, but he showed me the truth. He helped me realize that I’m done taking people’s crap. I won’t let anyone walk over me again. Nor take advantage of me. I’m done with that. He helped me become the person I’m meant to be. See, I finally have all the miraculous back. Right where they’re meant to be,” she said, holding her hand out to show the two inactive miraculouses. “If your done with your delusions, I need to head off.”

“No! We are your parents and you will listen to us!” Sabine yelled as Marinette took another step down. Marinette didn’t even turn around, just turned so that they had the profile of her face.

“You haven’t been parents to me since I was 10. Stop lying to yourselves” she replied coldly before walking toward the bakery to pack up, leaving the two sputtering in their spots as people around them glared and muttered as they walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She looked around her old room, seeing if she left anything that she wanted or needed. Old photos decorated the floor while most were in the trash. The mannequin stayed in its place, but the stylized ‘M’ was ripped up and destroyed. Her computer was turned to the side and off, showing the ports. The flash drives used were in her purse. The few remaining wall decorations were in boxes. The chaise and umbrella were gone, already being packed into the jet beside her rug and mirror. The vanity was cleared of everything, it’s drawers left open showing the plain wood inside.

Her desk was bare of all her sewing equipment and organization cabinet. Her bed sheets were packed with her clothes. All that was left was what was originally there: the desk, vanity, the mattress, and trash can(well she wasn’t going to bring it, she took it from the kitchen). But she wasn’t going to take them. She didn’t care about them. They were easily replaced. Dust and dirt littered the ground right beside the photos.

The only photos she took were the ones on her phone and a few baby pictures. She didn’t want the others. They were a reminder of all the sheep she had surrounded herself with.

She didn’t want sheep in her new place. Picking up the last box which contained all her sketchbooks, she left her old home.

“Marinette!” a voice shouted and Marinette looked around the street. Most people were either working or just avoiding her, knowing they couldn’t do anything to change her mind. But then her eyes landed on Jagged and Penny, coming over to her from their limo.

“Uncle Jagged?” she asked confused and Jagged beamed at her.

“How’s my rockin’ niece? I just got caught up on what happened,” Jagged said and Marinette bit her lip. Her eyes softened when she looked between their matching looks of concern.

“I’m fine, Jagged. Thank you thou,” she said, handing the box to Damian when he appeared at her side.

“Where are you going?” Penny asked looking at the boxes in the limo Chloe had brought.

“Leaving. Moving to Gotham,” she replied looking away.

“Your parents?” Penny asked, her tone neutral toward the couple. Thou, watching Marinette scowl at the question, Penny frowned.

“I don’t need them. They’re delusional. Want me to be someone I’m not,” she bit out, gnashing her teeth together.

“Say, your heading to Gotham?” Jagged asked and Marinette nodded. Getting the confirmation, Jagged beamed at her. “That’s my home town! You can live with me and Penny!” he offered and Marinette had a small smile on her lips.

“Marinette-” Penny started and leaned in not wanting anyone to overhear. When she pulled back, Marinette was beaming at the two and started nodding frantically. All Penny could do was smile softly at the girl when she did that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, we’re never getting her to work here now,” Gabriel said watching the screen. TViNews was showing Marinette walking out of the courthouse beaming between Jagged and Penny Stone. Announcing her as their new daughter. Behind the three were Sabine and Tom, scowling as they watched them walk down the steps.

“How does it feel to be adopted by Jagged Stone?” Nadja asked with a smile that Marinette returned as her eyes closed with a laugh bubbling out of her.

“Amazing. He’s already been calling me his niece! I know he and Penny will be the best parents I could ask for!” she replied, causing the couple to smile and hug her tightly as Nadja continued to ask questions that he ignored, looking over at Nathalie.

“That does seem to be the case, sir. Seems like you should look elsewhere. We both know Jagged won’t let just anyone work with her,” Nathalie replied and Gabriel sighed with a nod as he turned off the monitor.

“Adrien?”

“He’s in his room. He hasn’t done much since the lawsuit. Luckily our stocks are still going strong. Our investors are very forgiving it seems and are ignoring what Adrien and Lila have done.”

“Good, good. Just like I hoped. Now, go start searching to see if there are any aspiring designers. I want any you find on my desk as soon as possible.” “As you wish, sir,” Nathalie said with a slight bow before leaving the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re really ok with this B?” Dick asked, looking at Bruce closely. Bruce turned to give his sons a look.

“I can’t exactly stop her, now can I?” he asked and the three boys looked away at that. “Look, I’m not really ok with it. Joker managed to get Mari to work with him. Who would be ok with that? But we have to face the facts. We can’t stop her from doing that. All we can hope is that she doesn’t do anything horrible with Joker,” he said with a sigh, leaning back against his chair while Dick, Jason, and Tim shuffled their feets against the ground.

“I knew we should have done something to that mad-man,” Jason muttered and Bruce didn’t have the heart to scold him. Since it could very well be true.

“Maybe….maybe not thou,” Dick said and Jason turned to him confused.

“How can you say that? That psychopath turned Marinette to the dark side!”

“Yes….and no,” Tim spoke up that time and Jason whirled around to glare at Tim who managed to tilt his head back to look Jason in the eye in defiance.

“What did you say?” Jason demanded.

“Yes and no. Marinette may be working with that psychopath, but she wouldn’t do the same things as him. Whether we like it or not, he did get Marinette to stand up for herself. She’s finally speaking up against the harassment, the bullying, the negligence. All because of Joker. Yes he did it throu making her think she doesn’t have us on her side, but we can show her we are still standing behind her. And maybe….just maybe….she could get Joker to stop killing people,” Tim explained with a sigh.

“You really think that?” Dick asked, looking slightly disbelieving at the thought. Tim just shrugged at the question.

“I can’t say for certain. But we can hope,” he replied and that had the two nodding.

“Fine. But the moment Marinette does something deranged with him, you can’t stop me,” Jason replied and they could only nod. But they didn’t bother saying that he’d most likely have to get in line since Damian would probably be doing that first.

“Let’s get ourselves cleaned up finally. Damian and Marinette should be landing soon, it would be best we show her she has us as soon as she lands,” Bruce said and the boys nodded, moving to their rooms to do exactly that.

Ok, so here it is! I hope you enjoyed this!! And maybe….one day i’ll do a part 5. Who knows. Cause I don't. I didn’t think I'd be doin this many parts but here I am. There is honestly a good chance you guys can get me into doin one last part. But anyways, the next fic will another Dark!Mari fic! After that….maybe ‘A New Hero’ will be updated. We’ll see. Until next time!! -Love Willa<3<3<3

#fanfic #fanfic update #update #my writing #Angel Wings Darken #AWD #part 4 #maribat #daminette #ml x dc #darkish mari #mari snapped

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imaginetheending · 3 years

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Vacant Chapter 1 Preview

Here is a preview of Vacant chapter 1. To read the rest go to: https://www.wattpad.com/story/254655449-vacant-the-devil%27s-son

Chapter 1

It's hot outside.

Blood and dead bodies occupy the only decent shade. A trail of blood leads to the forest. It's created by Scouts dragging soldiers away by the straps of their boots. Grains of sand are crushed under Rapture's feet as they shift in the sand. He's been acting off since that morning, thinking of something else.

"Where did the furniture come from?" I ask.

In front of us, under the second floor of a three hundred year old building, sits worn down, used dressers, cabinets, and beds against broken and crumbled down walls.

"Probably from one of the traders" he responds.

One of the traders…

I'm impressed. All I own is a rusty mattress and a romance novel I kept when I was captured. These people managed to sneak in an entire dining room set with a working kitchen and chairs. Whoever did this has to work for Imports.

"I want you to come with me," Rapture says suddenly, dragging his fingers over the sides of his mouth.

Rapture is quite scary when you first meet him. His head is shaped like a human skull with hard features extruding from the back. His eyeballs are black just like mine, but he has golden lizard-like irises. After you get to know him, tough, he has a charm. A very sarcastic charm.

Without another word, he starts walking off. Adjusting my gun, I follow him. Angel does, too. The gear makes it hard to tell the difference between us. The only way to identify a Scout is by our bodies. Each species has a different body structure. Especially the legs. Since Angel is the same species as me, we have very similar forms. We both have thick female legs with no feet and big Canals. Compared to humans, our torsos are quite masculine.

Apparently, my big identifier is hips. I have thick thighs. It's true. I can crush a man's head between them, but the observation still feels somewhat perverse. Soldiers make similar comments towards Angel.

Lieutenant Bade, Angel, and I are Rapture's bodyguards. We follow the General around while he does his duties. It's not the most exciting job in the world, but Rapture is the best swordsman on the planet. No one messes with him. It is a safe, cushion position compared to the conditions other soldiers lived in.

"Angel, could you leave us? I want to talk to Siren alone," Rapture says.

We both look at each other. Angel steps back, not sure what to do. It takes a second for him to join the other Scouts.

I follow Rapture into the forest. After a while, it becomes grey. The pale, thin trees cover the bright sky. We walk for hours back to a part of camp I have never seen before. This is dangerous, I thought, for the two of us to be out here alone. However, whatever part of the forest this is, no one visited.

In the distance I see a small wooden cabin between an assortment of tree trunks. It has to belong to a General. No one else is allowed housing. The lights are off for the dusty building, though. We keep walking for another ten minutes, and arrive at an even bigger house -- a small, one bedroom home. Just like the rest of the planet, the exterior looks like old, American human architecture. On RubenDies, you can probably find a house like this for super cheap in a bad part of town, but here -- well, I have never seen anything like it.

Rapture grabs the door handle and yanks it open. The door stutters releasing dust and plant pores into the air. I am careful to breathe it in. He enters.

Dark inside, I can barely see the living room from the front door. Cautiously, I step inside. A thick smell overwhelms me. It's not a bad smell, but it's potent. Like someone lived here for a long time.

Both the living room and kitchen are small. Sun seeps through the closed blinds onto a rusty, old pale, orange refrigerator. The cabinets are dirty -- crusted. A small wooden dining table sits in front of it. There are more than one chair. Multiple people live here. Lived here -- I should say.

"Where are we?" I ask.

Rapture doesn't respond. He just walks between the dining room and living room towards a bedroom in the back. It's the only thing that lit up the hallway. My footsteps are unbelievably heavy on the wooden floors. I don't think Scouts are intended to be in here. The bedroom itself feels frozen in time. Nothing has been touched in years. There are still dirty clothes laying on a white bed sitting in the center of the room. Dust has collected on all of the wooden furniture. There's a couple nightstands and a dresser.

I'm scared to touch anything.

This doesn't bother Rapture at all. He grabs one of the drawers and opens it. After rummaging around, Rapture pulls out a stack of thick, white, plastic paper. He gives them to me, and I realize they're photos. Very small, rectangle photos. Each one is stained with dirt and muck. It's hard to tell what they consist of. The helmet makes it even harder. Rapture talks to me as I look through them, my eyes trying to make out vague shapes and sizes.

Each one shows a very attractive, young man that's the same species as me.

Most of the species outside of the Milky Way don't have names. We found no reason. It wasn't until the Human Reformation that it changed. Humans got confused by our lack of categorization, and decided to introduce a naming system. So, for clarity sake, I'll call our species BSBE.

The young man sits on a hotel bed, arched forward. A gaudy, geometric tattoo covers his sickly, gray, toned back. There are dog tags hanging from his neck. In each photo he is wearing different tank tops. In this one, it's white.

"Zerethus had a son. He escaped ten years ago," Rapture explains.

Oh, I see. I know who Zerethus's son is. Who didn't? The female camp whispered daily about him after his escape. By the time I made it to the male camp, the rumors had died down, however. All I know is that Cain isn't liked very much, and that he is permanent with most of the female camp.

In the second photo, he sits in a swimming pool, shirtless. It's at a wealthy establishment. The orange walls of the fancy hotel reflect off the blue, crystal water. It gave some color to Cain's dull skin.

"Zerethus has been looking for him ever since," Raptures continues as I shift to the next photo.

Cain is smoking a cigarette. He is maybe twelve or thirteen years old. A train of smoke trails to the sky. His expression is calm. Happy.

"I want you to find him before Zerethus does," he says.

My hand freezes. I heard his words clearly, but stammer.

"You want me to find Cain," I ask confused.

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

When the soldiers brought me to Edeon, they asked me for my gender. Stupidly, I said female, and was thrown into the female camp. From that day on, my life was shit until I got kicked out. Edeon doesn't like women. They never did, and my presence in female housing left a mark. Everyone knows I lived there. Everyone remembers.

I want to object. Ask him questions.

"No, sir," I respond instead, cowardly.

I would send anyone on this mission but me. The Generals are some of the best fighters in the galaxy. They're trained to search and find targets. As a Scout, I am also trained to do this as well, but I am nowhere near as talented. Finding Cain would be a high profile mission. Only the best of the best would be put on it. I am not the best.

Send Dante. Or Felix. Or Moon. Angel. Reaper. Hades. Pain. Cerberus. Vnux. Serpen. Dalen. Gabriel. Michael. Archer. Rion. Tarli Nobi. Th'Aman. Brani. Xani. Kreniea. A'Zule. Feri/ Q'Urlid. Achan. Meni.

Literally anyone but me.

"Who is my lieutenant?" I ask.

Every soldier gets a lieutenant when sent off the planet. They watch over the group. Make sure everything goes according to plan. If he picked anyone to go with me, he would pick Bade. Bade is pretty good. He'd make up for my lack of skill.

"You are," he obviously lies.

My mouth falls open, "What?"

No, I wasn't. This is the biggest bullshit I have ever heard. First of all, there hasn't been a new lieutenant in over ten years. Second, the only women of power on Edeon are Lieutenant Reaper and General Mourning. No one even knows how they got promoted. Third, if I was promoted, I would be promoted by Zerethus himself. So, something is very fishy.

Rapture cups his hands, and smiles.

"The mission is simple. Give Cain a message. The Devil is looking for his son. He wants to cut off his wings. He'll know what that means."

"Where is he?" I ask.

I remember that I still have the photos dangling in my hands. While he continues, I look at the next one. Now, Cain has his arm draped over Angel's opal, white shoulders. Huh. That's weird. In our species' culture we don't touch each other, but they seem chummy. Either Cain is straight as fuck or they were in a relationship. Bold for him to have this photo as a part of his collection. All homosexuals get killed on this planet. There isn't a warning. It happens suddenly, and mercilessly.

"The Luminary. He works for an agency called The Eye. Goes by Hayze Redborn. Was put on a mission recently to find an Alex Hall. Code name Aex. He's a super hacker."

Cain is butt naked in the next photo. It's in the same room as we are standing in now. He's maybe eighteen. Every detail of his muscles subtly defined, his body is gorgeous. Due to the pose, and moody lighting, this is definitely a selfie. Luckily, the photo cuts off at his penis, but you can still see the top of the shaft. I laugh. Why would you take a photo like this on Edeon? We don't have Be-book. There are no dating profiles or blog posts.

"If you catch Aex, Hayze may follow," Rapture says.

The last photo is the worst. It's just his dick.

This guy took a dick pic.

I roll my eyes. How many women did he try to show this to? Knowing his reputation, he probably sent this to multiple. It's girthy. Long. Blood rushes under his skin creating purple. His skin is smooth. There are only a few faint veins. The top is round and soft. There is no color difference between the tip of his penis and the base, outside of some discoloration. He has a pretty penis. I have to give him that.

"Siren," Rapture scolds venomously and grabs the photo from my hand. He rips it in pieces and then slams it into the dresser.

Oh, shit.

I don't think he knew that was in there.

My hand hangs loosely from where the photo once was. Scared, eyes fixating on him, he's mad. After a moment, he brings his hand to his face and makes a loud sigh. He takes out another sheet of paper from his pocket. This one looked like it was printed off an old printer. It's very faded. It is a much more recent picture of Cain. Cain is much older, and worn down. In the old photos, he is vibrant and active. Here he is dead inside.

His skin is a very healthy baby blue. The black that consumed his eyeballs is clear, and not glossy. A couple other things are off about his appearance, but otherwise Hayze and Cain are identical. Over his shoulders he wore a deep, aqua blue coat. It had a very nice, faintly, shiny, textured material. Under it, he wore a black shirt similar to the ones he wore when he was younger. His dog tags could be seen through his fabric.

Behind him, a short, gray-ish brown overweight being stands at a podium wearing a nice, trim suit. His species is a cousin of Rapture's. They look very similar, but this species has more than two eyes. The overweight being has the appearance of a government official. A banner hangs behind him. It's a symbol I feel like I should recognize.

"What happens after I tell him the message?" I ask.

"Protect Cain with your life," he remarks. To continue reading go to: https://www.wattpad.com/story/254655449-vacant-the-devil%27s-son

#vacant #writing #writeblr #scifi #science fiction

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i-write-and-therefore-i-am · 4 years

Text

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Five)

Okay. So. This one got away from me. It got unexpectedly dark, and I’m not sure how I feel about that but I’m going to post it and move on with the story. I am not a happy author about this chapter, for many reasons. Nevertheless, I love each and everyone of you and I hope you find it within you to enjoy this <3 (Pst! If you’d rather read on Ao3, here ya go!)

Previous-Next-First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Summary: Michael takes some initiative. So does Sandalphon. Uriel is basically the emotional support nerd ig. Aziraphale has a nightmare. Reader does NOT have a good time.

Warnings: Okay listen closely. I have written a non-graphic description of a kidnapping, and subsequently a heavily-implied violence segment. I might be overstating or understating (please tell me if I am understating!), but I just want to keep you lovelies safe.

ALSO: This is NOT a warning, but while you’re here I might as well tell you that I have used they/them pronouns for Michael, and it/its pronouns for Sandalphon (from the script).

Word Count: 2730

(@gif, shits going down)

Michael was not stupid. They were not dimwitted, or blinded by heavenly goodness, or any of the things that they could very easily accuse their fellow celestial beings of…being. They had been paying the Angel Aziraphale very close attention these past millennia, and they had seen exactly what they had expected; the Angel had gone native. Worse than that, he had gone native and he was fraternizing with the enemy. THE enemy. El Numero Uno. The Demon Crowley.

Because Michael was none of the things mentioned above, they had quite a bit of room to be some other things, like cunning, vigilant, and good at waiting for just the right moment. They didn’t bring the aforementioned knowledge to Gabriel’s attention straight away for the sake of…strategy. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that the Archangel-Fucking-Gabriel wasn’t the only gosh darned Archangel around (and that’s with a capital ‘A’, thank you very much), and so there really was no pressing need for Michael to give the information in the first place, now that they thought about it. They could investigate on their own, build up a solid case, and then work from there. Maybe get some respect around the elitist promotion trap that was their Heavenly home. If only.

Michael enlisted Uriel, knowing that she would be invaluable when looking for documents or anything paper related. She had the memory for things exactly like that. Michael brought Sandalphon precisely because they knew that Aziraphale was still terrified of it after what happened at Sodom and Gomorrah. Together, they monitored Aziraphale’s every move—although the angel had somehow devised a way to keep the group from ever being able to overhear any of his traitorous conversations with the hated Crowley, they weren’t deterred in the slightest bit. They could follow the pair, take pictures, perhaps the odd selfie when the mood hit. Michael was building their case against Aziraphale, and it was only a matter of time.

Armageddon threw everything into quite a pretty mess, now didn’t it? Aziraphale was openly discussing his meetings with his “wily adversary”, reporting on the current status and whereabouts of the Antichrist (Warlock. What a revolting name). Things were starting to get fun for the first time in about a hundred years, and Michael simply didn’t have the time for their surveillance missions anymore. Not to mention that Gabriel was demanding that they all stay together as often as possible, which was a nightmare in and of itself. Michael was rather looking forward to the end of the world, not for the gargantuan blood bath that would ensue, as most of their angelic associates where no doubt panting for, but for the endless peace that comes after a job well done.

One day, when the Antichrist (still Warlock, despite Michael’s very best efforts) was 10, nearly 11, Michael noticed something very strange about the familiar bookshop that they and the rest of the group had been watching for the last couple of centuries. There was a woman, well-dressed (Michael assumed. Angels, proper Angels, that is, Aziraphale not included, have no real sense of human fashion), practically cantering down the pavement, apparently towards Aziraphale’s shop. “No, that can’t be right,” Michael thought to themselves. Although, thinking back, that woman did look strikingly familiar. So familiar, in fact, that—

“Uriel! Take a look at this.” Michael had rolled her rolly chair away from her workstation and towards the cubicle to the right of hers. Uriel popped her head around the weird, cloth divider separating their “offices” with a curious expression.

“Yes, Michael? What is it?” The other angel asked from her rolly chair. Michael gestured that she should roll her rolly chair into Michael’s cubicle.

“I’ve found something strange in the Eden files, take a look at it.” The Eden files was their special code name for anything pertaining to Aziraphale that was not, strictly, on the books. This strange something happened to be a livestream of the street where Aziraphale lived. The woman was getting closer to the shop, although not quite close enough to tell if that was, indeed, where she was going. Michael pointed the woman out to Uriel.

“Now. She looks awfully familiar to me.” Michael’s gaze drifted from their finger to Uriel sitting beside them. Uriel had her thinking face on, which could mean one of a million different things and by this point in their long, coworker relationship, Michael had learned to just let her think. Uriel frowned slightly, moved closer to the screen, tapped a single key on the keyboard in front of them on Michael’s desk, and rewound the feed. She paused it. Zoomed in. Michael wondered why it was so difficult for the Management to install some touchscreens on the ground floor, at least for the Archangels and Possibly a few of the Principalities. They’d seen inside of Gabriel’s office (Yes! A whole, bloody corner office with glass windows instead of walls so that he can survey the worker bees in their nest and not one but TWO whole touchscreens!), after all. Uriel snapped her fingers in front of Michael’s face.

“Michael? Were you listening?” Michael, as you know, had not been listening. At all.

“Of course, Uriel. What was that last bit, again?” Uriel sighed and pointed at the woman zeroed in on.

“She visits the shop almost every day. She might be important.” Michael leaned forward in their rolly chair, squinting at the grainy image despite the fact that every angel had perfect 100/100 eyesight. They hummed.

“Yes. I quite agree. Sandalphon?” They called out the name of the coworker whose cubicle stood on the left side of theirs. They heard the familiar sound of the rolly chair growing nearer until Sandalphon sat beside the two other angels. Michael pointed to the woman on the screen.

“Let’s keep an eye on her.” They all watched as Uriel unpaused and the woman entered the shop.

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They did not have to wait long for the woman to make another move. Only a few hours later, she was hurrying out of the doors, clutching onto her purse and…crying?

“He doesn’t hold on to them long, does he?” Sandalphon remarked, rubbing its forefinger across its teeth diamonds. Uriel giggled but sobered when Michael glared at her. This was not the time for making jokes. That woman was certainly a human woman, there was no doubt about that. Why was she spending so much time around Aziraphale? Why had she run sobbing from his shop? Was this like that holiday Aziraphale took with Alexander the Great? Michael very dearly hoped not—Aziraphale had positively ruined that poor boy.

“Keep your focus on that woman. We need to learn more about her.”

The kept the feed trained on her as she made her way home. She didn’t live too far from Aziraphale’s shop. But just far enough that walking was just slightly out of her way. Uriel, the more softhearted of the bunch of angels huddled around the screen, wondered whether they should miracle her a taxicab, but she was quickly shut down.

“What, and give ourselves away? Gabriel would have our halos!” Michael exclaimed, shifting in their chair. Once the woman was in the door, Michael cut the feed, gaining the attention of the others. They cleared their throat.

“Ahem. So. Not only has Aziraphale been seen consistently in the presence of known Demon Crowley, but he also appears to have developed some sort of relationship with a…mortal woman. Once again, Aziraphale proves that he does not have the strength required to walk among them. Instead, he cavorts with them, befriends them—”

“Runs a bookshop,” Sandalphon growled helpfully. Michael nodded appreciatively.

“—and runs a bookshop. Clearly, he is no longer fit for his position.”

“That’s all well and good, Michael, but he can’t be removed from said position. Only the Almighty can deal with that level of personnel change.” Uriel reminded them calmly. Michael sighed deeply.

“I know that. We all know that. The only problem is something must be done about it. Aziraphale can no longer be allowed to continue this way. It’s heinous.” All the angels nodded their head in mutual agreement. They all tried to think of something they could do, but nothing seemed to jump out at anyone. It stayed like this for a few long moments before suddenly, Sandalphon gasped loudly, startling the other two.

“I know!” it said. “The girl. She’s important to him, right?” Uriel scoffed.

“She did just run from his shop in tears, Sandalphon, did you miss that part?” It was unfazed by Uriel’s goading.

“Exactly. It’s Aziraphale! He’s so soft, he’ll go groveling for her forgiveness within a fortnight. And when he does…”

“They’ll make up with each other. Where are you going with this?” Michael interjected impatiently, not in the mood for idle chatter. Sandalphon grinned, its teeth glinting in the Holy light.

“We kidnap her. Get us in Gabriel’s good books, get some information, and, of course, to scare powe ickle bitty Aziwaphawe. Perfect plan.”

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It was not, as it happens, the Perfect Plan. However, credit is due where credit is due, and that credit goes to Sandalphon for thinking of a Nearly-Perfect Plan. It would have been the Perfect Plan had Aziraphale and that blasted woman not been so stubborn and stayed apart for so long. The days until the Antichrist’s birthday were slowly running out, and the time during which the angels could execute said plan was drawing thin. Thankfully, the two made up just in the nick of time, so it had worked out in the end.

The trio had made the trip to Crowley’s flat, knowing that they would find Aziraphale there. Aziraphale had been flustered, but his story about checking about in the demon’s abode appeared to check out. Michael refused to take their eyes off of him the entire time. After they miracled away, they appeared in an alleyway not far from the woman’s home, and on her usual route. Michael had decided, because Michael was a little bit of an ass at times, to make the mystery just a smudge more difficult by abducting the woman outside of the home BUT simultaneously leaving a single, white wing feather on the floor of her locked flat. It really was quite devious for such a pure-hearted creature. Hmm.

The kidnapping went swimmingly. Uriel snuck up behind the woman, Sandalphon had thrown the bag over her head, and once everything was settled (or as settled as can be with a kicking and struggling woman in tow), Michael miracle them into a top-secret location. I’m afraid that I, as the author, am not at liberty to disclose the location of the following events, because of course I’d have to kill you afterwards, and I’d rather not do that.

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Angels do not have dreams. Angels cause dreams in other people, they take away dreams from other people, and they may, upon occasion, serve as conduits for messages from the Almighty, which often appear to other people as dreams. But Angels themselves do not dream. Except for Aziraphale, evidently, whose subconscious had decided to do away with the natural order of things to just…you know…spice it up a little. Aziraphale frowned deeply in his sleep and rolled over, sniffling.

He was in a corridor. There were no lights, only a faint glow that seemed to come from nowhere at all. There was one door, ahead of him, but the rest of the corridor was bare, empty grey concrete. He began to move towards the door, but the corridor seemed to get longer the closer he got, until he was nearly running, trying to make some progress down the hall but never moving one inch.

The scene changed, the corridor erupting into grey and black smoke that smelt faintly of saltwater taffy. The scene reconstructed itself as a square room lit with an old-fashioned lightbulb swinging slowly back and forth from the ceiling. There was a figure shivering on a metal chair in the center of the room, hands tied behind their back and a sack over their head. Aziraphale heard whimpering from the figure and made to rush over to help them but he found that his feet were rooted to the ground, as though someone had glued them straight to the floor. Aziraphale looked up from his shoes and gasped.

Surrounding the figure were Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon. Michael stood directly in front of the figure, bending over slightly. Sandalphon stood directly behind the figure, fingers grasping at the sack. Uriel stood apart from them both, in the corner opposite to Aziraphale. Michael made a motion at Sandalphon and it yanked the sack off of the person’s head to reveal—

Y/N. Eyes red from crying, hair a mess, makeup smudged and beyond repair. Aziraphale felt his heart stop beating. What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of joke? A voice, nagging at the edge of his consciousness told him that no, it was not a joke. Aziraphale struggled against whatever was holding his feet down with renewed vigor. He stopped when he heard your voice, hoarse and trembling. It broke him to hear you like that.

“W-who are you? What do you w-want from me?” You coughed, and Aziraphale felt a miracle dance along the tip of his fingers. He would make you well again, he would heal whatever has happened to you. You continued. “I have m-money if that’s it! It’s n-not m-m-much but—”

“Silly girl, we don’t want your money.” Came Sandalphon’s voice.

“Mmm, that’s right.” Michael responded. They leaned in closer to you, and you sank deeper into the chair to escape them. “What we want is information.”

“Wh-What? What information? I don’t- “

“What do you know of the Angel Aziraphale?” Azriaphale’s blood went cold. He had been so close to telling you himself! After all of the Armageddon mess was straightened out, he had promised himself, he would march right up to you and tell you the truth. But not now! Not when he couldn’t be there to explain, when you were hurting, being hurt, tied up like some criminal. A noise horribly like a snarl erupted from Aziraphale’s throat, startling him. Was he truly invisible in this room? After a couple of seconds of pure terror, Aziraphale’s pulse began to slow and he realized that this was most likely a vision dream, a message from someone showing him something that was either already happening, or about to happen. He prayed to anyone who would listen that it was neither of those two options.

“I swear I don’t know!” The sound of your terrified voice brought him back. Sandalphon laughed its ugly laugh and Michael chuckled.

“Should we really be doing this, Michael?” Uriel inquired softly from her spot in the corner. Aziraphale was sure he was just projecting his terror onto her, but he thought he could almost see a hint of concern in her deep black eyes. Michael just shook their head.

“It’s not as though she’ll have very long to remember it, will she?” At this, your body seized in horror, eyes open wide in shock. Fresh tears were streaming down your cheeks. Aziraphale wanted to burn this room to the ground.

“Are…are you going to kill me?” you whispered through your crying. Aziraphale held his breath to listen for the answer:

“Oh, dear me, of course not. Do you know how much paperwork that would be? Oh no. Definitely not killing you. As long as you give us the information we need.” Came Michael’s reply.

Aziraphale felt that old rage bubble up inside him, and his sword hand itched, as though the missing sword were a missing limb instead. He took a deep breath and clenched his hands into fists. He would not debase himself in such an appalling manner. He had grown since those days, and he would not be brought to his knees by a dream.

“I told you, I don’t know anything!” you pleaded desperately. The room was beginning to fade away, smoke swirling at the edges, illuminated by the swinging bulb. Aziraphale cried out, reaching out for you only to be met with empty air.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, now, won’t we?”

The last thing Aziraphale heard before waking was the sound of Michael’s laughter.

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#mine #aziraphale x reader #Aziraphale #crowley #good omens #One Monstrous Miracle #michael sheen

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thewritingstar · 4 years

Note

ButchxBubbles friendship???

Thanks for the request :)

The thought of Butch and Bubbles having a spa night? Yes please. Im not really good at writing friendship fluff fics so i hope this is ok. I really like the idea of their friendship dynamic and maybe I’ll elaborate more on it. Plus I wrote this at like 1 am so yeah.

Enjoy. :) Request and asks always open

----

Bubbles finished bringing all her products from the bathroom to her bedroom. She had everything ready for her spa treatment as her sisters were off on some over night history field trip for their class. Of course she wasn’t in that class so she was left by herself and the professor was out of town for a couple of days.

She had quite the collection of things to do and wished someone was here to do it with her. She could call Robin but she knew she had gone to her cousins house and her other friends lived a few miles away. Boomer had even gone on the trip but was sending her photos every ten minutes.

“Guess its just us tonight.” She looked to Octi who just stared at her with his button eye.

A sound came from behind and she turned to see something hitting her window. She got closer and saw that a figure was there. She threw open the window and looked outside. Her eyes widening slightly as she saw who was hovering.

“Butch?” She said questionably and he gave her a small wave.

“Sup Blondie.” He smirked.

Her signature giggle echoed. “What are you doing here?”

“Well since every one is gone on that stupid trip, I thought why not see what you’re up to” He shrugged.

“Are you sure?” She looked behind her at the set up she had. “I don’t think my plans is something you would be up for.”

He flew past her and she closed the window. “Don’t care, I am bored.” He took a spot on the floor in front of the blanket that was laid out and coated with products upon products.

Bubbles walked over and sat on the other side looking at all the products. “I was just going to do a spa night time or what I like to call Bubbles Time.” She sighed.

He shifted a little. “I can leave if you want, I just thought-”

“No!” She held up her hands and shook her head. “No you don’t have to go. My sisters don’t ever participate so its nice having someone here, even if you don’t wanna be pampered.”

Butch picked up a bottle while Bubbles fasten her hair into two cute space buns. He popped open the cap and took a sniff. Coconut and pineapple filled his nose and he could tell Bubbles wasn’t as bubbly as usual. He didn’t want to slap the shit on his face but knowing that not even Blossom wanted to do this with her, he thought why not.

“Im game. Whats first?” He asked.

She looked up at him with a blank stare. “Really?” Her face slightly turned almost like a cute puppy dog.

“Sure why not. Your skin is probably hella smooth and its not like this shit is gonna hurt.”

Her smile was blinding as nodded. She let out a high pitched squeal and soon her was pulled into a hug. “Thank you Butch! Thank you! Not even Boomie would do this with me, fucking meanie.” he whispered the last part and he was let go from the bone crushing hug.

“Nah fuck Boomie.” he slightly cringed at the nickname but now he had blackmail against his baby bro. “This is Bubbs and Butch time.”

She clapped her hands together and began preparing.

“So now this will open your pores and get the rest of all that dirt. Geez your pores are huge.” Bubbles said as she popped open the toner and spread it on the cotton pad.

“Rude.” Butch said but took the soaked cotton from her. He watched her apply it to her skin and copied her motions while looking in the mirror. His hair was pushed away from his face with a light purple hairband that had cat ears on it. “This shit kinda burns.”

“Don’t be a pussy.”

“Damn Bubbs didn’t know you cussed often.” He held out his hand to accept the moisturizer from her. “Kinda bad ass.”

She laughed at this. “Oh Blossy doesn’t like it and of course BC does. After all I am hard core.” She playfully shrugged.

---

“And then she fucking blew me off to hang out with Mitch, can you believe that!” Butch complained.

“I hate when she does that, always forgetting plans.” Bubbles sighed as she filed his nails and blew off the dust.

He looked at his other hand examining the clean nails. “You don’t think I have to worry about him right?”

She leaned over to look through her massive collection of nail polishes and pick a base coat and a dark green color and a pure black one. “Butch honey, he gay.”

“I knew that.” He said quickly. He looked at the polish. “What about just clear?”

Bubbles looked at him and raised her brows. “You know its really punk and cool for guys to paint their nails, plus Buttercup thinks its hot but you didn’t here it from me.” She wagged her eyebrows and dangled the bottle in front of him.

He snatched the black and shook it. “Paint me up Sugar.”

“Aww I wish Boomie did something like that for me.” Bubbles cooed at the screen.

“Sugar, they are just sitting on a gold course throwing grapes at each other.” He pointed out and she hit him with a pillow. “Watch the nails.” He lifted his hands.

“I know its simple but Troy and Gabrielle are cute and hey, I’m a sucker for cute romance.” He was sure her eyes were full of stars at this point. “Look they are dancing in the water!”

“How many times have you seen this?”

“Twenty seven.” The oven in the kitchen dinged and she got up. “Cookies are done. You want milk too?”

“Hell ya.”

She got up and walked away and he took out his phone. There was a message from Buttercup.

Spice Babe: is she torturing you?

He held his phone up to snap a selfie of his cat ear hair band.

Me: Nope but i look hot af now. Good luck keeping your paws off me.

Spice Babe: lol sure btw this shit blows, be thankful youre not here

Me: sucks 2 be you but i got fresh cookies from bubbs

Spice Babe: Lucky bastard

The plate of cookies was set in front of him and he clicked his phone away as she paused the movie.

“Buttercup having fun?”

“Nope but thats not my problem.” He grinned. “ So whats next?” he asked almost a bit too excitedly.

Bubbles covered her mouth to finish chewing. “Well its getting late and I was gonna do a face mask and build a pillow fort.”

“oh.” He realized that it meant he should probably go.

“Do you wanna make pillow forts and have a pillow fight? Oh and a sleep over!”

His eyes widened with a giant grin. “Fuck Yeah!”

His neck almost popped as the pillow was slammed into his face and he had never seen the vicious look on her face before. Even with temporary tattoos and a sparkly face mask that smelt like berries, his was pink and strawberry scent, she was still scary.

“Prepare to die!” She shouted as she raised a pillow over her head.

“Oh shit.” He ducked and shot one back at her, hitting her in the stomach making her grunt. Her elbow knocked on the table and they watched as the homemade smoothies shook and almost spilled.

Their eyes met and they busted out laughing before setting the pillows down.

“Lets wash these off and then call it a night?” She said and he followed her to the bathroom. His feet were now inside bunny slippers that were a tad to small a she was rocking matching dog ones.

He let out a yawn as she handed him a towel to dry his face and before long, they had shut off the lights and got into their pillow forts that were facing each other.

“Thanks for hanging out with me. It means a lot.” She said and he looked at the ceiling.

“I had fun. You’re pretty cool Sugar.”

“I’m glad someone thinks so.”

“Whats that mean?” He asked and he heard a small sigh.

She held onto Octi and even though she couldn’t see his face, she knew he had a frown on.

“Most people just think of me as the cute girl, which is true but im more than that. Sometimes even kicking a monsters ass doesn’t prove that I am strong and mighty.”

“Listen I know for a fact you are cool and strong. I got my ass handed to me by you once or twice in our child hood. Most people think im just some meat head who can punch.”

“I don’t think that.” She said and he believed her. “I think you are really talented at sports and just like to punch, nothing wrong with that. But you are also kind and sweet and I see how you make Buttercup feel and some meat head couldn’t do that.”

He smirked to himself. “Thanks Bubbles.”

“Any time.”

A comfortable silence filled the room before he spoke up. “I really appreciate how much you care about Boomer. Its hard growing up without any form of love and every time he comes home, his smile is real and I know its because of you.”

Bubbles hugged Octi closer as a blush formed on her face after she sent Boomer a good night text. “He just makes me really happy.”

“Thats good. But I am gonna kick his ass for not taking you on cute dates because my homie deserves is.”

“Omg Butch are we bffs?”

“For sure.” And their shared laughter faded off as sleep took over.

The morning came fast and the pair quickly cleaned everything up before homemade pancakes were eaten.

“This shit is amazing Bubbs.” Butch finished his plate.

“Aww thanks. Oh looks like everyone should be back in an hour.”

He stood and took the plate to the sink. “Well I’ll get going because I don’t need Blossom on my ass about any of this.”

“I can handle her don’t worry.” She winked and soon she was alone finishing up her pancakes with a smile.

The front door opened and Brick and Boomer came walking in. Brick slammed his body on the couch and went straight to sleep while Boomer went to the kitchen where Butch was making a grilled cheese.

“I can’t believe you had a sleep over with my girlfriend.”

“Hi to you too. And chill we are just besties.” He winked. “Kinda lame that you never do any of this stuff with her.” He picked up the finished meal and bit into it before shaking his head at him. “Ya know, shes pretty cool and all she wants is to pamper and watch high school musical.”

“But you hate those things.”

Butch shrugged. “Yeah but my new bestie doesn’t and I support queens.”

Boomer gave him a weird look. “What did she do to you?”

He flipped him off, showing off his nails. “By the way she wants cuter dates. If you are going to simp then do it right Boomie.” He mocked before grabbing his plate. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Sugar and I are going to the mall fuck face.”

Boomer frowned as he took all the food. “Hey don’t call her that!”

“See ya later simp.”

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