#Especially since Gabriel is usually asleep by now

[immer-two]

Are you wandering the halls or something

Yeah. It's quiet tonight and I don't have much to do

[truearchangel]

   Being carried around by his little brother was strange, especially when apparently said little brother was talking the way he was. He could practically hear the mocking in Gabriel’s tone, the teasing that he was doing. Which was strange to him, since he doesn’t remember his brother being like that. He usually had a rather reserved personality around him, and the playful side only came out every so often. Every conversation he had with his brother since the weird change in hair color left him spirling to try and understand him now. 

   How odd.

    “This is like when you were little and you fell asleep outside underneath one of the trees in Heaven.” Michael muttered, tightening his arms around Gabriel’s neck and blinking tiredly at the horizon behind him. “Do you remember that day? You were so little, and Heaven can get cold. So I carried you back inside the Golden Palace and gave you a hot bath. You were so tired you fell asleep while I was trying to help you and I had to get Sam’s help to keep you from falling over and hitting your head. That dork climbed right inside the tub, fully clothed, and sat behind you so we could finish.”

@truearchangel is being stubborn

【★】 — "If I do, you'll just turn into a statue at your desk~." Was the singsong-like response given back to him. If Gabriel knew what Michael was thinking, he'd honestly laugh. The only time he ever manipulated his height (and his appearance as a whole, really) was when he was dealing with humans. Otherwise? His current visage is his natural looks. His steps remained undeterred as he continued to carry the other to his room.

The threat did amuse him though, as well as the title. "You might hurt your jaw if you do~. And it's not like I'd really feel it, anyways~." His pain tolerance was high but most of his nerves were shot. A wonderful little bonus from almost being killed by his Father and the various other near death experiences he's had. It's quite the awful inconvenience at times if he had to be honest with himself - but it does make for an interesting conversational piece if he walks around with a knife in his side. A shame that wouldn't be a topic he'd ever bring up around the smaller Archangel though. It'll conflict with the reality he knows. He wonders how long the truth can be obscured for.

[unoriginalmess]

Untitled Feralnette Fic Ch. 1

Hiya there anyone who happens upon this first chapter of this fic. I would like to start out by saying that this is my first fanfic ever. I've been wanting to write a fic for the miraculous fandom for a while but I haven't had any inspiration until I stumbled upon this glorious AU created by @bigfatbreak. I highly suggest checking out all of their posts about this au because they are hilarious and genius and about 100 other amazing adjectives that could be used to describe them and their posts. Anyways enough with my rant and let's get on with the fic. ⚠️Slight angst⚠️ ⚠️Swearing⚠️

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When Marinette got home after her and Luka's breakup, all she could do was cry. She wanted to be with him, but her Ladybug duties came first. If lying is a deal breaker for him, then maybe it was best that they ended it now while their relationship was still in its early stages. Still, she couldn't help but feel the loss of her first relationship. She ended up crying for a whole entire day. She just hoped that Hawkmoth(or Shadowmoth or whatever the fuck he wanted to be referred to as this week) wasn't feeling particularly akuma-y today, because she didn't know if she could bottle up all these feelings, even though the world is relying on her ability to do so.

Ugggghhh!! It has been exhausting having to be "happy and perfect Marinette" and "happy and perfect Ladybug" All. The. Time. She's also pretty sure that Hawkmoth had discovered the similarities in her personality as Marinette to Ladybug, and that's why she's been targeted by multiple akumas lately. She has had to have her emotions under control even more than usual. If only there was a way to get Hawkmoth to stop targeting her. Maybe she should just not give a fuck anymore. Haha as if! It couldn't be that easy! Could it?

The more she thinks about it the more it starts to make sense. If she just let herself go completely crazy as Marinette, she would be killing like 10 birds with one stone. She would get hawkmoth off of her trail, she wouldn't have to deal with having to hide her emotions all of the time, she wouldn't have to deal with the added stress of maintaining her perfect persona, she wouldn't have to deal with the stress of Lila's lies taking her friends away if she didn't have friends in the first place, and so much more stress would be taken off of her plate! It was perfect! It might hurt a little at first, but it's for the best in the end. She spent that night planning out her outfit for tomorrow, doing her homework, and going to sleep knowing that, in the morning, François Dupont isn't gonna know what hit them.

....

Adrien Agreste had been having a rough week. He had been abandoned on patrol by ladybug, been broken up with by his girlfriend, and was feeling completely and utterly alone. He knows that his lady has been feeling overwhelmed by her guardian duties lately, and that he 100% deserved that verbal lasting that kagami had given him but he couldn't help but feel this way. He was also feeling guilty about lying to kagami and leading her on for so long. After she broke up with him he took some time to assess his feelings for her and realized that he had more of an admiration for her than an infatuation. He definitely didn't feel the same way about her that she felt about him. She told him that she LOVED HIM, and he was so distracted (blinded) by ladybug that he didn't even process her confession. So, he was looking forward to Sunday morning. He cleared his schedule and on that beautiful Sunday morning, he did what he is only allowed to do on very rare occasions: sleep in. Or at least... thats what he had planned on doing.

When Nathalie had knocked on his door that morning Adrien was not in a good mood. He vaguely heard her say something about father wanting him downstairs in some amount of time for something involving a business partners child and some other robotic sounding words that his half asleep brain couldn't process completely.

"I have a cleared schedule this morning, Nathalie. What could father possibly want me for that is more important than my precious sleep?" He asked snappily.

"Your father wants you downstairs to welcome the new guest that will be living in the house for the rest of the school year. You have 15 minutes to make yourself look presentable and I suggest leaving the attitude upstairs," she half informed/half reprimanded him. As she walked away, Adrien reluctantly rose from his nice warm bed and went to go get ready with only one thought racing through his mind: Who could possibly be staying with them?

....

Felix Culpa was not looking forward to living at the Agreste mansion for the rest of the school year, but for their parents' sake they would do what they had to. It wasn't all for their parents either, they were also concerned about the strange "dissapearance" of Emilie (who was his aunt in all ways except blood relation) and about the treatment of Adrien since said "disappearance".

You see, Felix Culpa is the heir to the Culpa Fabric Empire. The Culpas have been the sole fabric supplier of the Agreste brand since the very beginning. Felix's mom Diana was best friends with Emilie since their college days. Diana and Emilie made the deal with the two brands because as best friends who are both involved in the same industry, it just made sense to have a business relationship with each other. Diana never really cared for Gabriel as a person, but she could tell that he loved Emilie more than anyone else in the world so she could tolerate him for the sake of her best friend.

When Emilie went missing, Diana was absolutely devastated and tried anything she could to find her. She invested in missing person ads as large as billboards, organized search teams, tried to aid the police in their search for her in any way she could, but there was no leads, no legitimate calls to the number on the billboards, and the search team came up empty handed. While she was doing all of this to try to find her, she couldn't help but be furious over the fact that Gabriel was doing nothing to help in the search. All he did was hole himself up in his oversized mansion and call it a day.

The last straw for Diana was when Gabriel tried to use the "grieving my wife" excuse to try to abuse their business arrangement. That day, she told him that the Culpa brand would no longer be associated with the Agreste brand and that after the new collection is released, he would need to find a new fabric supplier. She knew that the Agreste brand would take a huge hit from having sub-par fabric, but she never thought that Gabriel would try to make up for that fact by using Adrien as a walking mannequin and locking him up in the desolate prison that he calls a home. As soon as she realized that he was doing this she scrambled to find a solution.

That is how Felix ended up here, standing in front of the mansion they would be living in for the next 9 months in exchange for Gabriel getting back into the Culpa brand's good graces. Don't get them wrong, they were excited about being able to be in Paris, home of the most innovative fashion pieces in the world, and about being able to see their honorary cousin Adrien (who wasn't half bad to be around despite him having no backbone whatsoever when it came to anything involving his father) but dealing with Mr. Agreste was definitely one of the low points of this arrangement.

They decided to just get it over with and knocked on the door. It was opened by the man that their cousin affectionately referred to as Gorilla. They nodded a thank you to the man, remembering that he was a man of few words, and proceeded to the bottom of the staircase. Mr. Agreste stood at the top with a very tired looking Adrien a few steps down. Felix wasn't even slightly surprised that this is where he chooses to welcome his guests, looking down on people must give him some sort of power trip or something. It's almost as if he heard the phrase "It's over, Anakin, I have the high ground," and made that his own personal motto. Whatever, let him have the feeling of false power if he wanted it, Felix knows that they have all the power in this situation and they're sure that Gabriel knows it as well.

"Hello Felix," Mr. Agreste greeted them with the same amount of warmth in his voice as liquid nitrogen, "while you are staying in this house you will abide by my rules. Adrien will inform you of them and show you to your room. You will attend school with him in the morning and I'm sure that you already know that you must represent not only the Culpa brand, but also the Agreste as well. I will be in my office working, do not disturb me. Contact Nathalie with any questions that cannot be answered by Adrien." He finished his spiel and left to what Felix assumed was his office space.

"Hello Felix!" Adrien greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he could muster in his sleepy state. "Come with me and I'll show you to your room."

Adrien led Felix to their room and listed all of the rules of the household that they were expected to follow. And... wow. Felix could not believe that their cousin had to live like this. The only social interaction this kid gets is at school and fencing? Pre-approved outings only with people determined socially acceptable by Gabriel? And if he gets even one "B" he isn't even going to be allowed to go to school at all? Felix knew that the living situation was bad for Adrien but know the only question running through their head was: What did they get themselves into??

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And... thats it for chapter 1! Mostly background info at this point, but next chapter will be the class' reaction to feralnette and felinette meeting for the first time. I just want to say thanks again to @bigfatbreak for giving me the inspiration to write a fic for the first time ever. Feel free to leave constructive criticism, I'm always looking to improve, especially at writing since this is my first time posting anything I've written online, so I want to get better so that I can make better content for you guys, gals, and non-binary pals. If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know and I'll make a tag list for ya. :)

[marrys-dream-world]

Imposter

Read on AO3

Summary:  Adrien's mother is kind and sweet and loving. The only problem is that it isn't her at all.

Notes: This is based off on this post by @infinitysgrace and a post athat I can’t find anymore, but was about how Emilie’s eye color could be wrong in the wishmaker flashback because it wasn’t her, it was a sentimonster. I took some liberties with sentimonster lore because I’m not 100% sure about all that, but I think it turned out well. 

One of Adrien’s earliest memories is of crying. 

He was young, perhaps three or four, and his room was blurry through his tears. When he grew older, he would get used to his father’s insistence that a night light was coddling Adrien, but at the moment, all he knew was the darkness surrounding him. The room was too big and his bed was in the middle of it, the light from the huge windows playing shadows that tricked his eyes. So he started crying, hoping it would call his parent’s attention and that they would come to him.

(When he grew older, he would learn that crying was useless.)

He felt more than saw his mother coming in, leaving the door open in a crack of light. Her arms wrap around him and she hums soothingly, the sound filling up his chest. She’s warm and smells sweet, like her favorite lavender perfume. He sinks into her, tears drying and sobs reducing to whines. He has tired himself out with that and would probably fall asleep even if left alone, but his mother doesn’t leave. She tucks him in and stays as his eyes close.

The last thing he sees are her wide blue eyes. 

-

Both his parents have drastic mood changes, but Adrien would say that his mother is the most prominent example of this. His father is usually just stoic and, if Adrien pushes him enough, gets annoyed with him. At worst, he’ll get angry and rage at Adrien, calmed down only by his mother’s calm words as she diverts his attention so Adrien can get away. His mother, though, always feels like whiplash.

“Why can’t I go with you?” Adrien, aged seven, asks his mother. He’s sitting on her bed as she packs her bag for another trip with his father. He stopped keeping count of them after the fifth. 

“You’re too young, baby.” She said and even the pet name didn’t stop the sting from her dismissive tone. “Next time, okay?”

He bits back a ‘you said that last time, too’. 

“But I’m already- “

“Adrien.” His mother chides, frowning. Her (disappointed) green eyes held him down. “I said you could stay here with me if you weren't going to be disruptive. Can’t you behave, just this once?”

He swallows back a lump in his throat. “I-I’m sorry, mother.”

But she already turned her back to him and packed the rest of her bag in silence. His mother leaves out her customary goodbye kiss when she leaves for the trip. He isn’t allowed downstairs to see them go and Nathalie insists it isn't a punishment, even though it feels like it. Adrien mopes in his room, not feeling up to enjoy his free day, no tutors or photoshoots, when all he can think about is his mother.

That’s why he’s taken back when she walks in his room.

“Mother?” He gaps, unable to hide his surprise. “I thought you left. Aren’t you going to miss your trip?!”

“I changed my mind, Adrien. Your father and I decided that the trip would be more productive with just him.” She said, eyes warm. Adrien always thought it was beautiful how her eyes could look blue or green, depending on the light. 

“But why?” He asked. She had been so excited for the trip!

“To stay with my precious son, of course.” His mother said, taking him into her arms.

All his questions evaporated right then and there. 

-

After their last trip, his parents decided to take a break from traveling. To network, his father informed him, which meant more boring family dinners and stiff ties. His mom always tuts when he complains about it, so he stays silent this time. At least it’s a dinner with Chloé, his best friend, and her family, so he and her are really only required to have dinner and then they can go off and play in the hotel rooms. 

“Arnold- “ Mrs. Bourgeois starts during dinner, before being nervously corrected by her husband.

“It’s Adrien, dear.”

“Oh right, Adrien. You grew up really well, you look more like your mother everyday.” Other people say it gushing, followed by a ‘so cute’ and pinches to the cheek. Mrs. Bourgeois says it like it’s a fact she approves of; Chloé even copies the small nod her mother makes. “You have her eyes.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t think so.” He says as politely as he can, but everyone in the table still throws him confused glances.

“You don’t think you look like your mother?” His father asked, raising an eyebrow.

Adrien shook his head. “No, I just don’t think I have her eyes. Mother’s eyes are blue and green and mine are just green.”

The Bourgeois family looks at him like he grew a second head. His parents, however, become tense all of sudden.

“Emilie, Gabriel, I think your son might be colorblind.” Mrs. Bourgeois says dryly and Adrien waits for his parents to come to his defense. They don’t. 

“Maybe. You know how children are.” His mother says, lightly. “I love your hat, Audrey. Is it new?”

The topic changes to Audrey’s new fashion exploits and Adrien and Chloé are finally allowed to go play. 

(Nathalie takes him to an eye doctor Mr. Bourgeois recommended the next day. The colorblind tests come back as negative.)

-

At age eight, Adrien was already used to working on fashion shows for his father’s brand. It didn’t make them easier to go through, however. 

It’s a summer one, this time, and his clothes are light and airy and his skin felt itchy and hot in the air conditioned cat walk. Looking at the bright lights around him hurt and the camera felt like it was looking uncomfortably deep into his soul. Was it too obvious that he wanted to run away? The crowd claps everytime he comes and everyone is smiling. Except for his father. 

After the show, his father spends the rest of the ride in silence as his mother tries to defuse the heavy tension that permeated the air with small talk and gushing compliments about the clothes and Adrien’s performance. It falls flat as she hardly looks like she’s up for talking, dark shadows under her eyes and skin paler than usual. Whenever Adrien asks her if she’s sick, she denies. As soon as they arrive home, he drags Adrien from the car towards the house, grip strong on his left upper arm. 

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me in front of everyone, Adrien?” His father asked calmly, but his hand tightened on his arm. 

Adrien couldn’t speak. It felt like it was happening to someone else, his mind weirdly detached from the situation. The only thing stopping him from floating away was the pain in his arm. 

“That’s enough, Gabriel.” He heard his mother, voice muffled. It felt like he was underwater in the pool and she was speaking from far away. Her hand, though, he felt acutely as she extricated his father’s hand from his arm. “Adrien, go, please.”

He runs away without second thought, only pausing guiltily at leaving his mother with his irate father when he starts hearing his father’s screaming. Adrien hides under the blankets in his room, heart racing long after the noise stops as he tries to focus his mind into anything else. He startles when he feels a hand touching his blanket cocoon. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby.” He hears his mother’s voice and frantically tears his blanket away. 

Adrien relaxes as he looks into her wide blue eyes and comforting smile, trying to leap for a hug. She stops him. 

“Let me see your arm first.” She says and he reluctantly takes off his jacket, wincing. The bruise on his arm doesn’t look pretty, so it’s for the best that he doesn’t go out much after fashion shows. “I can’t believe I let you get hurt.”

Her tone is soft and she looks, weirdly enough, genuinely confused as she touches the bruise on his arm and coos in apology as he flinches. 

“Father is just stressed.” Adrien parrots back his mother’s usual spiel after his dad does something less than exemplary. “It’s just how she is, it’s okay.”

"It 's not okay.” His mother says right away. “I’m supposed to not let anything hurt you, Adrien.” 

She says that with such a passion that he can believe she actually means it. But instead of the elation he expected when he heard it, all he felt was a surge of anger. Because why now? After all those moments when she scolded him for avoiding his father or not looking him in the eye, why now?

“There isn’t anything we can do about it, is there?.” He snaps, echoing her words to him from what felt like yesterday. 

She deflated. “I’m sorry. There isn’t.”

-

His father went away from a trip again and his mother, once again, decided to stay. 

Spending time with his mother during father’s trip was great, especially since she was in such a good mood and looking much healthier than she did these days. She lets him have an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert as soon as Nathalie turns her back on them, she spends the whole day playing with him in the garder, she helps with his homework and makes him a snack between classes. They play the piano together, making up different tunes and giggling. 

“Don’t I have to practice this?” He asked, pointing to the sheets of the classical song he was supposed to learn. 

His mother wrinkled her nose.

“You already work too hard, Adrien, it’s nice to have some fun once in a while.” She said, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She usually didn’t wear it when spending time with him, only when she spent time with father, so it caught his attention. “Besides, nobody has to know.” 

They watch a movie he picked that night. His mother rarely did that and when she did, she was very picky about it. Artist stuff, he supposed. This time he got to choose, though, and he picked on based on a manga he liked, Astroboy. His mother seemed excited in the beginning, but her mood quickly subdued as the movie went on. 

“Are you not liking it?” He whispered to her and she shook her head.

“I am, baby, don’t worry. Are you?”

“Yeah. It's not really like the manga, but I like it.” He said. “I just think it’s a little unfair, you know. How he doesn’t know he isn’t really the scientist’s son, that he’s just a robot.”

His mother’s arms tighten around him. “I don’t think it’s unfair.”

“Really?” Adrien watched as the images from the screen played on his mother’s blue eyes.

“Really.” She repeated. “Him knowing would be crueler.”

-

At age ten, Adrien is awakened on a rainy night by his mother shaking him.

It was the night his father was supposed to come back from a trip and he had spent a fun day with his mother, studying and playing (“You need both to be a healthy boy, Adrien!” She grinned at him and he beamed back at her). His mother had looked a little skittish earlier, looking over her shoulder often only to just find Natahalie and fidgeting with the ring on her hand, that she usually wore every time his father was traveling. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong and insisted she hadn’t been sick. Nevertheless, he worried. 

“Mother, what’s wrong?” He asked, sleepiness fading away as he noticed how frantic she looked. 

“Adrien, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Every moment I’ve been conscious, it’s been on my mind. Can you trust me?” She asked him, stroking his head with the hand that wore her wedding ring, and he nodded. “I need you to pack a small bag and come with me, okay? We’re going on a trip, just you and me.”

“A trip?” It was all he ever wanted, but the look in his mother’s blue eyes made him hesitate. “Is everything okay?”

“No, baby.” She said, kissing the top of his head. “But it will be. Hurry up, I need you to pack while I handle some things. Meet me downstairs in five minutes, okay?”

With anyone else, even his father, he would have asked more questions. This was his beloved mother, though, so he just got up and started to pack his clothes and some of his stuff that he couldn’t do a few days without. He carefully closed his door, running down the stair and to his mother by the door. She looked damp, her outfit changed and an umbrella hanging by her feet along with some bags. 

“Adrien?” She asked, turning her green eyes to him. In her left hand, she held her wedding ring.

“Mother? Are you okay?” He asked, noting how much paler and shakier she looked than when he saw her upstairs. 

“Yes, of course.” His mother said as she put her wedding ring back on. “Whatever I said to you upstairs, forget it, okay?”

“W-what?”

“I didn’t know what I was saying.” She said, eyes staring straight at her ring. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. Go back to bed, baby. Your father is back earlier than expected and he won’t like to see you up so late. ”

He nodded, unwilling to argue, and took his bag back with him to his room. His mother suddenly acting weird and standoffish wasn’t anything new, it was fine. She would go back to being his sweet, kind mother soon enough. He was sure of it. 

(She never did.)

[amjustagirl]

CHAPTER 2 - FALLEN

Fic Summary:

The sky Oikawa Tooru’s heart seeks is a world away from the earth yours is buried in. You are a fool to trust him with your heart anyway.

Where Oikawa Tooru tries to recapture your heart. 

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x fem! reader

Genre / Wordcount : Angst (7k words), cameo from MSBY 4

Warnings: One non-explicit bedroom scene.

Masterlist link here!

Tag list link here!

You catch sight of Oikawa Tooru as you bustle through the hospital’s sliding doors, your usual cup of coffee in your hand that you buy on the way to work. He’s seated in the waiting area next to a middle aged man you guess must be his manager, from the way he jumps to his feet immediately to act as a human shield as you call out breathlessly - 

“T - Oikawa? What are you doing here?” 

Tooru’s head swivels around to meet your gaze, and you’re shocked by the lifelessness in his eyes until you glance at the bandages wrapped around his swollen knee. 

Oh. 

You try not to stare, but you do so anyway. The sight of your ex-boyfriend makes you feel as if you’re seeing a ghost, a specter from some past life. You last saw him when he was twenty one, young and proud, wax wings fully spread, a speck in the skies. What a difference five years makes. His shoulders are still broad, and the tilt of his jaw is still proud, but the light in his eyes has faded to darkness, and the pallor of his skin suggests far too much time spent away from the sun. 

Icarus, Icarus. Your hubris has led you to such heights, but look how far you’ve fallen. 

It’s surprising there’s no news of his injury, considering he’s one third of Japan’s trifecta of setters in the volleyball scene’s monster generation. With the Olympics rapidly approaching with just over a year to go, an injury must be devastating, especially to Oikawa Tooru, with dreams of Olympic greatness and victory on his native shores. 

A nurse materialises to usher Oikawa away for surgery before he can respond to the pity in your gaze. You look around. He’s alone, save for his manager. No one deserves to be wake up alone after surgery, so you call after him - 

“I’ll check in on you after you’re done! Gambatte!”

He responds with a thumbs up and a weak smile. 

You flip through his medical files once you get the chance. 

Oikawa Tooru, twenty six. Pro-volleyball player for EJP Raijin previously, currently playing in the Argentinian league. Narrowly missed out on making the cut for the previous Olympics, but went on to represent Japan in the last three World Cups, alternating with Miya Atsumu and Kageyama Tobio. Obviously hoping for another shot at the Olympics, but that’s looking bleak from what you’re gleaning from his medical records. 

His right knee has always bothered him, even during his high school days. Now, a decade later, it looks like he’s managed to tear his tendon to shreds. 

Volleyball is a cruel, demanding mistress, especially for one not born a genius. 

The surgery to repair a torn knee ligament is delicate work, requiring an experienced surgeon, and the road to recovery requires extensive physiotherapy. It’s no wonder he’s resorted to the modern Tokyo hospital you work in rather than returning to his native Sendai to recuperate. The downside of doing so though, is that he’d have to recover alone. 

You wrinkle your nose. He may be your ex-boyfriend, but he doesn’t deserve that. 

The sun is setting when you finally find the time to slip into his room. 

As expected, he’s still asleep. The anesthetic will take some time to wear off. From the looks of the surgeon’s notes, the surgery was a success - though you know from the nature and extent of the injury that his road to recovery will be long and winding.   

So you seat yourself in the visitor’s chair with a hot cup of tea and an onigiri to stave off your hunger at not finding time for a break any earlier. You had an awful day at work today, two of your patients puked on you, another tried to fight you when you drew his blood, and the senior registrar in the ward assigned you a mountain of paperwork that you only just managed to complete, so you give in to sleep yourself as exhaustion settles into your bones.

“Princess?”  

You snap awake at the familiar nickname, ignoring the flush working its way up the back of your neck as you leap to his bedside to check his vitals, only relaxing when you’re satisfied everything’s fine. 

“You’re just waking up after a surgery, Oikawa”. When his forehead crinkles in confusion at the sound of his surname, you correct yourself. “I mean - Tooru”. The corners of his cracked lips tilt up in satisfaction. 

“Will you stay with me?” Tooru murmurs, eyelids beginning to droop again. 

You smile fondly despite yourself. “Do you want me to?” you ask. 

He manages to pout even as he’s falling back asleep. “I asked, didn’t I?” 

You smooth his hair from his forehead, slotting your hand into his. “Fine, fine. Go to bed, sleeping beauty”. 

He huffs an amused breath from his nose before he closes his eyes, contented. Trust Tooru to be shameless enough to cling on to his ex-girlfriend without a shred of awkwardness. You end up staying in his room for hours, watching him sleep.

The heart that you’ve locked away behind bars of bone and steel twitches, just once. 

You frown when the nurse catches your sleeve. “A patient’s looking for you” she says, just as you’re about to go off on a short break. 

“Who?” you reply, wondering whether it’s Sato-san who vomited this morning, or Imai-san whose blood pressure niggles at your mind. You do not expect the nurse to flush pink as she replies - “Oikawa-san”, describing the sweet young man with lovely brown eyes and such a charming voice. 

You slip back into his room when your shift ends. You expect to see a shadow of a man with broken wings, and you do catch a fleeting glimpse of Tooru staring wistfully out of the window, face tilted towards the sun before he turns to you with a wide smile and a pleased - “you came!”  

This is the Oikawa Tooru you are accustomed to dealing with. “Stop flirting with the nurses”, you tell him briskly, bustling over to look at his files. “They have jobs to do, don’t use them to carry messages to me.”

“But I’m boredddd.”

“I’m sure you have volleyball videos to watch.”

“I watched them all day today. ‘Sides, I watched all the matches on today already, twice – and I have plenty of time to watch them a third time. I have plenty of time to catch up with you, I haven’t seen you in so long!”

Five years since you broke up to be exact, but you sidestep that fact neatly, pouring over his medical file instead. His doctors’ notes indicate his recovery is promising. He brightens up when you tell him so, playfully complaining that hospital food is shit in a thinly veiled attempt to steal your food, a habit he’s clearly not outgrown. But you’re not all that hungry anyway, so you split your pork bun in half and hand it to him, dropping into the visitor’s chair. 

“So how’re you feeling?” 

“Like shit. My knee hurts so muchhhh.” 

You shrug, careless. “That’s pretty expected, to be honest.”

“Hmph. I thought they’d have taught you some bedside manners in medical school”, he snipes, though the effect is rather lost when his cheeks are comically round and full of food. 

You laugh, the stress from your day lifting from your shoulders.  

“I seem to forget them when it’s you.”

“So mean”, he pouts, hiding the familiar gleam in his eye that appears whenever he’s trying to analyse his opponents, take them apart. “As punishment, tell me about yourself. What have you been up to these days?” 

You decide to treat him like any old friend, giving him the condensed run down of your professional life,  how you’ve graduated from medical school (with top marks I bet, he interjects), how you chose to stay in Tokyo instead of returning to Sendai (your parents must miss you he says, and you brush him off with an airy they have other children, they’ll survive), how you chose to work in this hospital because you’re considering a specialisation in Orthopedic surgery (because of your grandma, I bet, he says, and you choose not to correct that, using your silence as a lie).  

He in turn tells you about the highlights of his career, how he’s spent a year at EJP Raijin before he was headhunted to the Argentinian league, how he spent four years overseas save for summers back in Japan to train with the national team, how he’s hopeful, even now, of recovering and fighting for his spot on the Olympic roster next year. 

You already knew all of that from news alerts on your phone you never forced yourself to delete, diverting him instead with a question about life in Argentina, nodding as he reminisces about his apartment in San Juan where he gets to watch the sun set over the Andes mountains, the kitchen that he stuffed full of Japanese groceries like daishi and mirin and sake and miso in his first year there just so he has a tangible reminder of home. 

You stop yourself from wondering whether he thinks about the little home he shared with you with such fondness. That time has passed. 

His voice wavers as he spins you stories about his teammates - Matteo, whose family owns a vineyard and taught him to appreciate wine like a proper Argentinian, Miguel, who makes the best empanadas and gets roaring drunk every time they win a match, Gabriel, who takes him to his family’s home in the mountains every other weekend because his grandmother is convinced that a single young man without family in the city will starve if he’s left to his own devices. 

It seems his wings were durable enough for him to soar across the oceans, his grit and determination the foundation of the new life he’s built, whole continents away. 

“It’s funny how the world works”, you remark off hand. “I never expected to see you again.”

His eyes gleam again. “The universe seems to work in funny ways.” 

You start spending breaks in his room, scarfing down your lunch and dinner while he talks your ear off about the horrible sitcoms or ridiculous game shows he’s watched today. You catch him watching a video of Kageyama’s serves and you’re amused when he practically hisses when you comment idly that his kouhai has certainly improved since his high school days. 

You ignore his spluttered protests that service records aren’t everything and besides, his own spike serves have definitely won Japan a game or two last year until, with the air of a boy king, he commands you to sit next to him on the hospital bed so he can pull up a compilation of his serves and his best moments. 

Years might have passed, but you’re still hopeless at refusing him. Besides, isn’t it better that you distract him from the sorry state of his knee? So you do as he says, ignoring the faint flutter of your traitorous heart as he leans into your side. 

“See? I told you my spike serves are amazing?”

“Yes, yes. I already knew that. I watched so many of your practices in university, remember?”

He looks at you strangely. “Did you?” he asks, leaning his head on his hand, eyes boring into yours. 

You think of evenings spent sitting on the bleachers, homework in your lap as you watch as the boy you love builds the strength in his wax wings in preparation for his eventual flight. “Yes”, you admit, sheets rustling as you shift away from him, avoiding his perplexed frown. “You were probably too focused on practice to notice.”

You already know you shouldn’t spend so much time in his room, but you’ve spent most of your life doing what you should instead of what you want to so just this once, you ignore rational thought in favour of sentiment.

After all, he’ll be discharged from hospital in a week, then you’ll never see him again. 

Tooru promptly proves you wrong the day before he’s scheduled to be discharged. 

“I need someone to help me move into my apartment.”

“Hire a mover”, you tell him. You don’t even look up from your notes. 

“Already did”, he chirps, undaunted by your apparent disinterest. “But it’d be nice to have a friend who I know will be nice enough to help poor old crippled me put my stuff away.” Then he grins cheekily, “plus I checked with that pretty nurse – Yuna-san was it? Anyway, she told me you’re off tomorrow, so you might as well spend the day with me.”

There goes your excuse to wriggle out of having to spend your rare day off with your ex. 

“I have a mountain of sleep debt to pay off”, you protest, but faced with wide brown eyes and an embarrassing wobble of his lip, you comply. Still, you manage to get the promise of a free dinner out of him, so you suppose it’ll do.

Tooru doesn’t have much to unpack, a couple of cardboard boxes of clothes and books, probably because most of his belongings are still in Argentina. He laughs and raises his hands in an attempt to placate you when you lift an eyebrow, first at the lack of kitchen equipment in his furnished apartment, second at the weights and volleyball he tries to smuggle in behind your back. 

“You’re not supposed to exercise for at least a month or two”, you cluck your tongue, sighing with disapproval at the furtive look he casts at the volleyball sitting at the corner of his living room.

“I can set while sitting on a stool! Don’t scold me, my heart can’t bear it”. He throws a hand across his face, brow creased dramatically. 

Icarus, Icarus. You’ve already fallen once. Will you seek out the sun again? 

A string of familiarity loops into a knot over your heart. If you close your eyes and count to ten, you can imagine that you’re eighteen again, chiding the boy you love for practicing too hard. But you’re twenty six now, a full fledged adult who should know better than to dabble in sentiment again (especially when it comes to brown eyed boys who only dream of the sun), so you slash through the threads connecting you to him with a flash of your teeth, bury your beating heart deeper into the dungeon you’ve built years ago of white bone and solid steel.  

“Do what you want, but your neighbours will hate you if you keep thumping that damn ball against the wall.” You say, simply, dismissively. 

“No one could ever hate me”, he declares with bravado. “I’ll charm them all with my charm and good looks.”

“Ridiculous”, you huff, dumping the last of his clothing into the cupboard. “Where’s the dinner you promised? I want ramen and gyoza at least.”

“So demanding”, he lilts. “I’ll order in. Tonkatsu ramen with char siu, bamboo shoots, extra spring onions with gyoza on the side?” 

Your heart struggles against its shackles. He still remembers your order.  

“Yes”, you finally say. “You got that right.”

He grins at you cheekily, as if to say of course. 

After you gulp down your ramen, devour your gyozas, you pack up, ready to leave. You have an early shift tomorrow, and you’re already dreaming about your soft bed whilst dreading the cup of coffee you’ll have to down tomorrow morning just to stay awake. 

He catches your wrist, presses the spare key to the apartment into your hand.  “Come back. I want to see you again”, he says, an order and not a plea. 

You are about to make up an excuse, tell him anything but the truth that you suspect it’s bad for your heart to keep seeing him again. 

“Please” - he adds with a tint of fragility to his voice. 

“I’ll be back when I can”, you finally say. 

“Tomorrow?” he looks up at you with hopeful eyes. 

“We’ll see”, you pry your hand loose from his grasp, slip out the front door. 

You stay away for two days, citing your work schedule as an excuse until he wears you down with a barrage of cutesy line stickers aimed at driving home how lonely he is and how much he misses your presence. You’re being dramatic as usual, you text him dryly, but you turn up anyway at his apartment on a Friday night, letting yourself in with an armful of reports and a bucket of oden. 

“How’re you doing? Are you listening to your physiotherapist? Eating properly? Sleeping well?”

“You sound like my mother”, he grouses, rolling his wheelchair to the dining table. 

You flick at his forehead, he slumps back in his wheelchair.  “Stop bullying the cripple’, he wheezes through his chortle. 

“You deserve it”, you retort. “Don’t run away from the question. How’re you feeling?”

“It still hurts”, he admits with a mock sniff. “It should stop hurting by nowwww.”

You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “That’s to be expected. Your sinews just got stitched together two weeks ago. Not sure why you’d expect any less.”

“Bah, rude. At least you didn’t say I told you so”, he grumbles, spooning oden into his mouth. “That would be insufferable.”

“Well, maybe you’ll listen to me now that I’m actually a doctor”, you inform him pertly, batting away memories of a teenage boy with hazel eyes shouting indignantly at you after practice in the Seijoh gym.

Tooru snorts. “I can’t believe my eighteen year old self was dumb enough to open my future self up to a jab like that”, he complains, chewing on a cabbage roll grumpily. 

“We’re all dumb at eighteen”, you remark. “You’re no exception.” 

“You were dumb enough to date me”, he teases with a mocking smile.  

Your spoon slips from your hand momentarily. It’s the first time he’s alluded to your past relationship. 

“I was, wasn’t I”, you say lightly, before turning the conversation to Tooru’s physiotherapy sessions. 

You have no wish to delve back into the past, but you’re willing to be his friend since he seems to need one for now.  

Tooru’s knee recovers enough for him to shift from his wheelchair to crutches, which he points at you playfully, mimicking a gun every time you pop by for a visit. He seems to plan his physiotherapy session around your schedule, just so he can wheedle you into paying him yet another visit when your shift at the hospital end, bribing you with a cup of coffee with a hint of chocolate from the café across the street that you’ve never found the time to visit. 

“Thank you, kind sir”, you say, accepting the coffee with a laugh. 

“You’re welcome, my lady”, he answers with a smirk, motioning you to follow him for yet another evening to be spent in his home sitting across him, red ink smeared on your hands as you mark up the reports in your lap. 

His façade that he’s coping with his injury just fine slips every so often. You catch him more often than not watching compilation videos of Kageyama and Atsumu at the World Cup this year with a strained expression on his face, or resting his chin on the windowsill whilst staring wistfully at the birds in the sky. 

He does not confide about his worries to you. You’re not sure you want him to. 

But you can’t explain to yourself the impulse to purchase a bird feeder for his balcony, nor the glow-in-the-dark poster of the constellations that you cart into his bedroom until your heart has to scramble for equilibrium when he thanks you, his smile soft. 

“In exchange for all the coffee you’ve bought me”, you reply, turning away to hide all evidence of your heart’s betrayal, the diffusion of blood in your cheeks.  

A month passes. Then another. 

The crutches get kept in the storeroom. A limp remains, but the degree which his knee can bend increases by the day. His mood improves even further, and you constantly find yourself swerving to avoid his affectionate gazes, his attempts at flirtation. 

“You’re looking so pretty today!” he lilts, fitting his arm snugly into the crook of your elbow as you walk down the neon lit streets of Tokyo. He insisted on this outing, and in the custom of your rekindled friendship, managed to convince you to accompany him on your off day so he can get crepes from Harajuku notwithstanding the fact that it takes forty five minutes on the train and his knee still acts up from time to time.  

“It’s my first time downtown in a month”, you tell him. “Of course I’m going to dress up.” You don’t tell him you spent far too long in front of your closet, tossing outfits on your bed until you found one that complements you just right. 

He buys you trinkets, hair accessories that you’ll never wear, tries to win you ridiculous stuffed toys from the claw machine. 

“You’re wasting money”, you scold, wiping the whipped cream from his mouth. 

“It’s not a waste if it’s for you”, he tells you, with startling sincerity that you still doubt.

He doesn’t mean it, you tell yourself. It’s just Tooru being Tooru. 

You refuse to admit what’s staring you in the face until you have to duck your head to avoid his attempt at pressing his lips to your cheek. 

“Goodnight, Tooru”, you manage to say before you bolt off into the night. You check to make sure your heart is still under lock and key. 

It is, but it beats resentfully. Tooru, it beats against its bars with frightening intensity. Tooru. Tooru.  

You ignore it. You know what’s best for it.

You stay away from him for a fortnight, requesting for a change in your schedule without updating him, taking the other exit from the hospital so you don’t have to see him. You stay away until he manages to wear you down yet again, texting you the most ridiculous conspiracy theories about your absence from his life – you must be abducted by aliens, he texts you once, or your mother forced you to marry some stranger, I can break you out if you just say the word. 

He has a guest, you hear another voice, deeper, filled with gravel and intensity, so different from Tooru’s lighter lilt. You do not mean to eavesdrop, but you don’t want to interrupt Tooru when he has a rare guest over, and there’s nowhere else for you wait save for the dusty front step, so you settle yourself in, pen poised to continue your work. 

“What did the doctor say? When are you coming back for practice?” 

“I’m doing good! The physiotherapist thinks I can try light exercise next week. If all goes well, I’ll be back to practice in a month.”

“Sounds promising.”

“I had a good medical team. And I’m actually resting properly!”

“Shittykawa. Stop sounding so proud about doing what’s necessary for your recovery.”

“Iwa-channnn, stop being mean to meeee!”

Ah, Iwaizumi, of course. You haven’t seen him in years, but you remember him from school, a stoic boy with a good heart. You wonder if he’s changed. 

“Are you planning on heading back to Argentina?”

Tooru answers without hesitation. “Of course”, he says airily. “As long as they take me back.”

Your foolish heart shudders with disappointment. Of course. If you run your fingers down his spine, you’ll probably find blooms of wax attached to his very bone. 

You are about to stand up and leave when Tooru speaks up again. 

“But I’m going to enjoy my time in Japan while I’m back. Did I tell you I reconnected with my ex? She’s great, it feels like I never left.”

The firestorm of blood in your ears nearly drowns out Iwaizumi’s growled ‘piece of shit’ (he truly hasn’t changed after all), the clatter of glassware as Tooru protests that he’s not playing with your heart, he truly cares about you, his sullen silence when Iwaizumi demands what’s going to happen when he leaves Japan for Argentina, when he inevitably leaves you behind (yet again).   

Of course. 

You know his heart longs for the sky. There is no space for you. 

You barely have time to react when the door swings open, Iwaizumi on the verge of storming out. You plaster a smile to your face that does not fool him, but you hang on to it nonetheless, cracks appearing only when he gives you a wide eyed look of sympathy that only pours oil onto the flaming war between your brain and your heart. 

“It’s fine”, you say, and though he clearly does not believe you, he bows and leaves anyway. 

Tooru stares at you, mouth open, stumbling over himself with apologies and demands for you to tell him what you’ve overheard, but you motion for him to just stop with your hand, wave aside his protest that he means what he said, he truly likes you.  

Your heart screeches in delight, but your mind is firmly in the driver’s seat. 

“Let’s just pretend I never heard you say that, and we can continue just as before.”

“As friends?” he says, twisting his lips as if the words taste sour in his mouth. He clutches at your shoulders.

“I want more. I want you.”

Your heart thrums in agreement, but you recall assembling the remains of your heart back into your chest whilst kneeling on the cold bathroom floor half a decade ago. The span of five years should have molded you to view your shared past with pragmatism, but your heart seems to have forgotten its lesson. You shake your head.

“There’s no way you truly want me. I don’t think you’ve only ever had space in your heart for anything but your goals.” 

Your response emerges more bitter than you intend. 

“That’s not true”, he weakly protests. “I care about you.”

Not enough, you refrain from telling him. “Let’s remain friends”, you do say, and he opens his mouth to object again, but at the hard look you give him, he slumps back with a defeated nod.

He tries to respect your decision, never complaining when you keep a careful arm’s length distance from him, though you can feel his heated gaze on you whenever he thinks you won’t notice, hear his quiet sighs whenever you shy away from any accidental touch. He droops when you turn down his invite for lunch with his family when they come down for a visit, citing work even though he knows you’re off for the day. 

Still, it’s manageable and he says he needs you, so you return for visits, at least twice weekly, offering encouraging smiles and friendly words when he returns first to light exercise, then to rehabilitative practice a month later, just as he predicted. 

He carves out time for dinners with you, taking care to ask about your day, preferring to spin you stories about the pigeons and doves and crows crowding his balcony rather than talking about volleyball or his practice. He insists on escorting you to his apartment after work when you allow him to, offering you his arm with a soft smile that disarms you, dissolves any resistance. 

It’s an uneasy equilibrium, but it’ll suffice. 

The careful balance you’ve maintained in the space between you and Tooru is shattered when you find you’re not the only one who’s decided to pay him a surprise visit on a Friday night. 

“Tooru, ya didn’t say ya got yerself a pretty girl during yer break”, a man with bleach blonde hair wolf whistles appreciatively when you step into the apartment. 

“I’m just a friend”, you reply confusedly before Tooru’s shout “Shove off, Miya” confirms that one Miya Atsumu has decided to invade Tooru’s apartment. Well, him and what seems like half the MSBY team, with Hinata Shoyo, Bokuto Koutaro and Sakusa Kiyoomi squashed uncomfortably on Tooru’s tiny sofa, long legs stretched across the living room. 

It turns out the MSBY team just finished a game in Tokyo, and Hinata dragged his teammates to visit Tooru in a wholesome bid to cheer him up. You try to excuse yourself after exchanging nods with Sakusa (he hasn’t changed much from his university days) when Miya Atsumu blocks your retreat with a drawled invite for Izakaya and the promise of karaoke after. 

Tooru mouths playfully at you don’t leave me alone with these clowns (you’re tempted to point out that he’s very much one himself), and before you can even blink, you find yourself dragged along to the nearest Izakaya, impressed by the amount of food each man polishes off - skewers of chicken hearts and cartilage, bowls of potato salad and rice with braised pork belly, listening to stories of their exploits on the national team together, stumbling into the karaoke bar tipsy from the beers that Miya Atsumu pressed into your hand, head heavy enough to allow him to wind an arm around your waist. 

“She’s too old for you, ‘Tsumu-kun”, Tooru trills, inserting himself in between you and Atsumu, mouth taut with aggravation. 

“I’m not old, just a year older”, you roll your eyes, as the blonde setter backs away, lips turned up in amusement. Tooru is not placated, muttering how the younger setter is a douche and a sleeze bag as he drapes his jacket over you like a blanket. You nestle against his side, head on his shoulder as his arm rests protectively around you. 

Atsumu watches this with raised eyebrows, whistling slowly, opening his mouth to remark that he’s never seen Oikawa so smitten before when Hinata interrupts with a chirped  “‘Tsum-Tsum, join me!”, handing him a microphone while bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

Karaoke is the most fun you’ve had in ages. Hinata and Bokuto and Atsumu sing all their favourite anime theme songs with gusto - Atsumu even gets misty eyed when he croons Sparkle by Radwimps, reddening when everyone teases him for being a romantic sap, Bokuto shaking his hips to Western pop hits, Hinata showing off his Spanish skills. Sakusa refuses to even touch the microphone but you suppose it’s a win that he’s even in the karaoke booth with all of you. 

Tooru slaps away Atsumu’s attempts at handing you any further alcohol, forcing you to down cups of water until you are no longer glassy eyed, but still tipsy enough to agree to sing ridiculous K-On songs with Hintata and Bokuto, not stopping even when Tooru whips out his phone to video the entire performance with an indulgent smile. 

“Delete it!” you squeal, losing your balance when you try swiping the phone out of his hands, tripping into his lap instead.  

“In your dreams, princess”, Tooru chuckles, his arms snaking around you like a vise. 

“Anndd that’s our cue to call it a night”, Atsumu quips, herding Hinata and Bokuto out onto the street, Sakusa heaving an audible sigh of relief. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, kids!” he calls over his shoulder, throwing you a wink. 

“I’m technically his senpai, cheeky brat”, Tooru mutters, the irritation in his voice washing away as you giggle. “C’mon, it’s too late for you to get home and my place is nearer to the hospital so you might as well stay over tonight. You can take the bed, I’ll take the sofa.”

You shake your head, arguing that you couldn’t possibly turn an invalid like him out of his bed but he huffs at the insinuation that he’s anything but well, his knee almost whole again. You give in after he convinces you that it’d be more inconvenient for him to escort you all the way to your own home rather than put you up for the night, and you allow him to loop his arm around yours and lead you back to his apartment. 

It’s not the first time you’ve been in his apartment this late, not by a long shot, but it is the first time you’re over with the intention of staying over. The t-shirt you borrow from Tooru hangs off your frame, the scent of the fabric softener Tooru uses is familiar. You would’ve preferred being tipsier to dull your senses, but alcohol would only impair your logic, allow your heart to prevail, so you try to quell the thrumming of your blood in your veins by curling up on a seat by the window with a cup of tea when Tooru emerges from his shower. 

“Ready for bed?” he asks, towelling off his hair, frowning when you shake your head. “It’s late, you have work tomorrow, even if it’s the afternoon shift.”

“It’s fine”, you say without turning your head to face him. “Go to bed, I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m insulted, princess. What kind of a man d’you think I am to make his guest sleep on the couch? ”

It’s less dangerous to ignore him, so you pay him no mind, choosing instead to lean your chin in your hand and look up towards the night sky. It soothes you, the moon an old friend, reminding of five years’ worth of quiet nights spent in your own flat, filtering your younger self into adulthood. 

“What’re you looking at?” He takes a step forward, kneels down next to you. 

“The moon and the stars”, you say dreamily. “They’re pretty tonight.”

A myriad of weather conditions must coincide to allow the stars to even be visible in the polluted Tokyo night sky, but tonight of all nights fate intervenes, the stars align. The sky is cloudless, the full moon hangs heavy, the stars shimmer and dance.  

“Are they?” Tooru whispers. “I haven’t noticed.”

You finally turn to look at him. “Why’re you staring at me?” 

The unconscious echo of your past - a boy and a girl, falling in love under the same night sky makes his mouth twist wistfully, eyes faded gold.

“Because you are my sun, my moon and my stars. I love you better than anything in the sky.”

Your mouth falls open, your heart suddenly roaring, pounding against its restraints. 

“You can’t mean that”, you whisper. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I do”, he says, with heartbreaking sincerity. “And I always will.”

Nostalgia, aided by the lingering alcohol in your veins opens the gate to your foolish heart. You want to pretend that you are eighteen again, without a care in the world, indulging in the warmth of his hand on the small of your back, the caress of his breath on your cheek. Your lips beckon his, swallowing the catch of his breath when your hands slide under his shirt. 

“Are you sure about this?” His eyes are hungry, almost ravenous, but his hands still hover at the hem of your top. 

“Yes”, you murmur, pressing open mouthed kisses to the column of his neck. “Please, Tooru - please.” 

He carries you into the bedroom, undresses you with shaking hands, chanting your name with reverence, almost a prayer. His eyes darken with desperation and need, unwilling to allow himself any release until you fall apart boneless, caged in his arms.  

“Stay with me”, he murmurs, after you’ve both cleaned up a second time, tugging you into bed. 

It’s laughable. Five years on, Oikawa Tooru still has the power to make your mind lose all reason (however temporarily). With a single heated look, he commands your heart to break willingly in his hands. How could you not have learnt your lesson? The conversation between him and Iwaizumi merely confirms what you’ve known all this while.

(The sky his heart seeks is a world away from the earth yours is buried in)

Even now, you can see the glimmer of golden wax feathers budding along his spine, gleaming under the pale moonlight. 

You lie under the covers until his breath evens out, then you stumble out of bed. You force your heart to relinquish the keys to its freedom, handing it back to logic and rationality, pulling on your clothing, folding your borrowed clothing aside.  

Tooru mumbles your name, his hand outstretched towards you. “Come back”, he says in his sleep, fragility tinting the edges of his words. 

Your fingers miss the doorknob by an inch. You dash your foolish hopes against the darkness of the room, put on your resolve like armour, leave your spare key on the kitchen counter. 

Without looking back, you slip out into the night. 

​

[diamaker-moon]

Moving Forward - Chapter 5

Chapter Five

First stake-out...

—————

She observes the young boy and hummed. She instructed Adrien to try and look around thinking that it might've been misplaced.

'I have a bad feeling about this. It's already bad that it's missing, but if my theory is right that it is in Ladybug's possession, we might be at a disadvantage.'

— previous chapter... —

Marinette was nervous. She doesn't know if she can pull it off.

She was currently crouching on a roof near the Agreste Mansion, waiting for any signal from the kwamis. She was already feeling a strain in her body due to wearing multiple miraculouses at once.

She was wearing the ladybug earrings, black cat ring, fox necklace, horse glasses, mouse pendant necklace. There was a slight change in the plan. She decided to do a stakeout in the middle of the night, that is why she also had a flashlight in hand.

If there are no open windows or any entrance to the atelier straight from the outside, she'll just create a portal. She was currently transformed as Multimouse. While the four kwamis searched around the mansion. After waiting a few minutes the four kwamis came back.

"Sorry bug, but all the windows are closed. And it can't be opened." Plagg said.

"But, the atelier is empty, Natalie is already sleeping and Gabriel as well. Their bedrooms are a bit far from the room." Tikki said.

Marinette thought about it. "Hey, Trixx. You think your illusions, can affect the security cameras inside the room if there is any?"

"Sure Kit. My powers are meant to be useful to you!" Trixx said.

Marinette nodded. She will need to divide into two, one to unify with Trixx for the illusion and another for Kaalki's teleportations.

"I hope this can work..." She mumbled before preparing to activate the mouse's special power.

"Multitude!" She activated the power and waited. She felt a slight change in her when she opened her eyes a copy of her is staring at her. She handed her the glasses.

"Mullo, Kaalki, unify!" 

The gray, pink and black bodysuit was changed. The pink accents of her bodysuit were changed into a dark brown colour, while her mask was removed and the glasses act as her mask. Her ribbons in her Odango-style twin buns were changed from pink to dark brown. A horseshoe attached to the back.

"Mullo, Trixx, unify!"

He bodysuit turned into Multifox's look, all the pink accents on Multimouse become orange, and she has a white section on her chest similar as a result of the Fox miraculous influence. The pink section of her mask also becomes orange.

Multifox looked in the direction of the mansion, before grabbing the flute from her back and playing a song to activate the power. As short 'Mirage' and the illusions are up. The cameras will only see an empty room, and if the doors are opened they will see a dark empty room.

Multifox nodded to Multimare to open a portal.

"Voyage!"

She activated the power then a portal opened. They went through it to appear in the middle of the dark empty room.

"Mullo, Kaalki, divide." Multimare mumbled, releasing the Horse kwami. Multifox handed a small pouch that has food for the kwamis.

Multimouse is on guard duty, she needs to be on alert, while Multifox, Plagg and Tikki walk up to Mme Agreste's painting. Multifox pulls the painting to reveal a safe behind. She looked at Tikki who nodded before phasing through. Multifox flicked her flashlight 'on' once the safe's door opened.

She saw a picture of Mme Agreste, a book about Tibet, a ticket to Tibet, rolled-up pieces of old paper, and a shiny brooch, that is shaped like a peacock. The brooch has five segments. Its main colour is pale, light grayish blue-violet, while the crystals on the top of each segment are pink. The lower part has a silhouette body of a peacock as a single teardrop.

She had her jaw opened. Hawkmoth just leaves it here?! Wow... What a great keeper. She grabbed the brooch and clutched it in her left hand. Before grabbing the book about Tibet which only has words about their trip and nothing important.

She placed the book back, closed the safe then returned the painting back to normal. She then nodded to Multimouse, who immediately transformed back to Multimare, and opened a portal straight to her bedroom inside the dorm.

Kaalki was divided and handed a sugar cube to eat, before Multimouse and Multifox fused, leaving only Multifox.

"Mullo, divide."

Leaving her in a fox suit. She removed the illusion in M. Agreste's atelier before finally detransforming.

"Trixx, let's rest."

Finally leaving her in her pink athletic leggings and a cropped black shirt. She was still clutching the peacock miraculous in her left hand. She made sure she didn't leave anything. She had the pouch and the flashlight on the floor after getting dropped when Multimouse and Multifox fused back together.

She sat down on her desk chair with the disguised miracle box opened on the side of the table. The other kwamis flew towards her, while She was inspecting the miraculous.

"Tikki, I thought the Peacock Miraculous was broken?" Marinette asked while still inspecting the miraculous.

"Maybe Hawkmoth fixed it? He did have the Master Fu's tablet for a while..." Tikki reasoned out.

Since she basically stole the miraculous from Hawkmoth. She couldn't believe what was happening. One moment, she was alone fighting a magical terrorist that has two miraculouses that transforms themselves as Shadowmoth. Then suddenly, here she was, it was supposedly a stake-out only! Not a stealing stake-out! But... finders keeper, losers weepers!

Marinette sighed before attaching the brooch to her shirt and hoped for the best. the brooch changed into its new camouflage design, it was now rose gold in colour, from the five feather segments when it is charged to eight with pale pink crystals on the top of each segment, there was no design in the middle, leaving the brooch in a simple yet elegant look.

A dark blue ball of light popped out and swirled around her, after the light vanished a peacock-looking kwami appeared.

"Oooh! Hello! Huh?! Why do you have the other kwamis?! Who are you?!"

Some of the kwamis laughed at the new kwami's energetic personality, while Tikki and especially Plagg grumbled about how to keep the kwami in one place.

"Hello, Duusu," Marinette said then smiled at the confused kwami.

"I'm your Guardian, I have retrieved you from Shadowmoth's possession. I am sorry that I didn't get to retrieve Nooroo as well..." Marinette continued.

The peacock kwami gasped before nuzzling on the Guardian's cheek.

"Thank you! Oh if you could've seen him, his outfit was hideous! Poor, Nooroo! Please Guardian, save him as well!" Duusu exclaimed.

Marinette smiled, she removed the brooch to put it back in the Miracle Box. Duusu didn't get sucked into it since she had no intention to relinquish him, after placing it inside the designated area of the peacock miraculously, she opened the middle circle for the kwami once they want to return in the parallel universe inside the miracle box. She let the other kwamis talk to him, while she handles civilian duties.

She opened her website on her computer and replied to a few emails before responding to requested commissions.

Clara Nightingale is commissioning her for a set of four dresses that will be used for her brand new music video, that had a theme of stars, constellations, space etc.

It was a weird concept for her but decided to accept it, thinking it could be a challenge for her. She wrote a reply email then sent it to Clara before closing her computer and climbing up to her bed.

"I'm going to sleep, be careful okay? There's food in the other mini fridge for everyone, since someone's food is influencing the other's food." She said while giving a pointed stare at Plagg who had the audacity to look innocently at the young guardian.

"Goodnight, guys!" Marinette said in between her yawns.

A series of 'goodnights' was heard before Marinette finally drifted to sleep.

—————

"Is she asleep?"

"Yes, it's quite rare for her to catch sleep lately, I'm glad that this new change is giving her quite a good impact." Tikki said.

It was currently hard for Tikki's chosen. A Ladybug Miraculous holders are usually the leaders. Those personalities are needed to become a ladybug since they are the only ones who can purify an Akuma, cast a purifying spell, and with Tikki's creations of Lucky Charms, they needed to be a tactician and are aware of responsibilities.

She was proud of Marinette. Such a young child has a strong devotion to protecting the city while risking her life, but now the stakes are high for her. Hawkmoth is aware that the Ladybug heroine is the current Guardian of the Chinese Miracle Box.

If he manages to overthrow Ladybug he can gain access to the box, and the fact that her bug needed to repress her negative emotions down into the deepest voids of her soul after being targeted by countless akumas.

Tikki knew it was taking a toll on the young aspiring designer.

Being a superheroine that needs to battle akumas whenever and wherever is already hard enough. She needed excuses for her various disappearance every time there's an Akuma.

Having an emotional battle of trust and faiths between her and her former classmates, ever since the Liar appeared. It took everything in Tikki to not pop out of the designer's purse and chew the vixen herself.

Her series of achievements through various commissions by famous peoples in society.

And finally, this Guardianship that was handed to her during an unfortunate event. She lost her temporary heroes since their identities were exposed to Hawkmoth, the loss of her Mentor— Master Fu, and now the loss of her partner.

Tikki and even the other kwamis are curious about how she was still standing straight even though she was carrying a lot of responsibilities on her shoulders. The fate of Paris, France, the fate of the world, and the fate of everyone's reality by preventing Hawkmoth from achieving his goal, that can have a massive impact on reality due to how powerful miraculouses are.

"I am proud of your chosen, Tikki."

Wayzz said in a calm voice. "She took in the responsibility of being a heroine exchange for her time in her civilian life, and now, she chose to carry the heavy responsibility of a Guardian even though she can refuse it and pass it to someone else, leaving everything behind."

The other kwamis nodded at the wise turtle kwami's words. Tikki looked at them and smiled.

"I'm proud of my bug. She's a worthy ladybug and had shown how worthy she is despite her flaws. She made mistakes, but she chose to fix them. And now she's healing from the toxicity she had received in that place. Sleep well, Marinette..."

Chapter 4 — Moving Forward: Masterlist — Chapter 6

[usagis-tsukinos]

Brutal Love - 10

Read, Comment, or Kudo on Ao3!

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

Robert De Niro's-- No, Lucifer's Waiting.

Pairing: Lucifer x F!Reader

Rating: M/18+

Warnings: NON-CON

Words: 2,222

Ages: 15/17

Lucifer doesn’t have friends over often, at least not in comparison to Gabriel and his best friend who comes by every single day after school and stays the entire weekend. To say they’re even Lucifer’s friends would be an overstatement, none of them really like each other but they somehow have just enough in common to not kill each other when they’re all together. Usually they all gather at the Shurley house, consisting of Crowley, Azazel, Asmodeus, and Lucifer all hanging out in his room with chips, movies playing on the TV with music at the same time, and the occasional video game that Lucifer always wins. Normally, his little shadow would patiently wait outside his room or try to distract herself with Gabriel, but this wasn’t the case tonight. Gabriel and her and started a pillow fort in the living room, only for him to get up and say he needed something from his room and end up falling asleep on his bed, leaving her alone to entertain herself.

Finishing up her pillow fort, she huddled underneath, playing games on her phone and trying not to blow Lucifer’s up, while he half listened to one of Crowley’s stories and subtly checked his phone every few minutes to see if she texted him. “Did that girl text you again ?” He asked, but Lucifer tried to brush him off, “No, she didn’t. But if she did, what’s it matter to you?” Asmodeus took a drink of his soda with a smirk, “I’m surprised you haven’t just fucked her yet.” Lucifer made direct eye contact with him, “Sorry? Didn’t hear you. What was that?” Knowing he heard the whole thing.

Asmodeus cleared his throat, trying not to choke under his acquaintance's icy stare, “I’m not the only one who’s been thinking about it, you know. She does every little thing you ask- she brings you food without you having to ask! If that were me I would’ve just bent her over and had my way. She doesn’t look like she’d put up too much of a fight, anyway. Especially if it was you, Lucifer.” He tried to laugh it off with Azazel, who was just a little too afraid of Lucifer to say anything in response. Even Crowley, who’s been bullying the girl for years didn’t laugh, only excused himself to the bathroom to escape the tension.

Lucifer got up from his spot on his bed, everyone else sitting on his floor as he towered over Asmodeus, “If you say one more thing like that I will skin you alive and bury you in my backyard and no one will miss you.” With that, he left the room, trying to keep his cool as he went down to the kitchen, passing the living room to see her and Gabe’s project and how she sat by herself. Grabbing his snack, he gently knocked on the entrance, “Can I enter the secret fort?” He asked, bending at the knees as she peeked through. “What’s the password?”

“Lucifer’s your best friend and the greatest person ever?”

“No.” She stifled a giggle.

“Lucifer will hang out with you if you let him in the fort?”

“No,” she paused, “but I’ll allow it.” Moving the pillow out of the way, he crawled in, his large frame almost ruining the whole foundation before he finally got settled. She felt her heart beating in her chest as he was basically squished next to her, but tried to continue with her game. Lucifer looked around, his head almost poking up one of the pillows from the “ceiling” before making a comment about how it looked nice. After a few moments of silence, and looking over her shoulder to see what she was doing, he spoke up, “You did a good job.” She kept her head down, “Really?” “Yeah,” he nodded, “It’s not so bad.”

He felt her shuffle a little to get comfortable but he could’ve sworn she was closer than before, not that that was very hard since they were essentially squished together now. She spoke up again, “Gabe helped a little before he fell asleep. He was tired today.”

“And you’re not?” Lucifer kept his eyes on her. “No.”

After another pause he scratched the back of his hair and watched her game some more, “You didn’t come visit me tonight.” He watched as she nervously cracked her thumb while trying to think of an answer, “You had company.” Lucifer held back a little smirk, he knew she was trying to hide her jealousy- thinking it cute, but he felt like being a little sweet, “All of them combined couldn’t measure up to you,” He saw her blush before continuing, “You think Crowley knows my favorite sandwich?”

She smiled a little, “Your..” a pause, clearing her throat though her voice was quiet, “Your friends don’t like me very much.” His brows furrowed at her reply, “I’m sorry, do they dictate who comes into my room?” “I guess not…” Lucifer nudged her shoulder gently, “You should visit.” but she shook her head, “I think it’s nicer here.” Lucifer couldn’t help but smile just a little more now, “Why? Because it’s just you and me?” He watched as she almost dropped her phone, “That’s not the reason-!” “Not the only reason, maybe.”

She finally looked up, him still trying to hold back his smile and failing as she lightly glared at him. He knew she was only annoyed because she hadn’t gotten to see him as much as she’d liked to. He reached a hand up, moving some of her hair away from her face before he saw her slowly start to lean in a little and he did the same, almosting kissing her before the pillow that Lucifer’s large frame poked up from the top of the fort was yanked off his head, an annoyed Crowley staring down at him with it in hand. “You’ve been gone for at least thirty minutes! Did she trick you into her little love nest or something?” Lucifer glared at him, standing up to move out of the fort and yanking the pillow away, “You don’t get to dictate who I spent my time with, Crowley.”

Crowley opened and closed his mouth like a fish in shock, “But you just abandoned your own sleepover for her ! You don’t even like her!” Lucifer felt her gently taking the pillow from his hand, replacing it back where it was as though to hide from the argument. She didn’t want to hear Lucifer admit he didn’t like her, especially after almost kissing her. But Lucifer could be heard shoving Crowley away, telling him something along the lines of, “You don’t get to tell me who I like, Fergus .”

Thinking the cost was clear after about twenty minutes, she slowly made her way out of the fort to go into the kitchen and grab some food, closing the fridge only to bump into the taller body of Asmodeus. “Where are you going, little darling?” He smiled, lifting a hand up to her hair as she tried to shy away from him and get back to the living room. “What, you don’t wanna say hello?” He grabbed her arm tightly, pulling her back against the fridge. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

The whole time she tried to stay silent, not looking him in the eye as she remembered her phone was still in the other room. “I just wanna go back to my fort, I don’t bother you guys when you’re here, so why are you bothering me?” She softly asked, trying to look him in the face but she couldn’t. Gabriel was still asleep upstairs and Lucifer wasn’t coming back down any time soon. She held her snack close to her body, his fingers digging into her arm. Asmodeus’ other hand went to her waist, moving upwards as she tried to get out of his grip but he pinned her against the fridge, making it rock slightly with the weight of both of them suddenly pushed against it.

She felt his breath on her neck as he started to kiss her. Throwing down her food, she tried to get her arm out to scratch or pull at anything that might hurt him, but he was much stronger and she really wasn’t able to move much as she felt him starting to suck and bite at her neck to leave a hickey, the hand on her waist that moved up found her breast, squeezing uncomfortably tight as she started to cry, unable to get any words out besides little, “Stop, please” every now and again but every time she did he’d just mumble the same thing every time: “Just imagine I’m Lucifer and it’ll be over soon.” The hand on her arm let her go before it began to work on her pajama pants, his unwanted erection poking at her furiously, fingers moving inside to find her not only dry as a bone, but her legs had locked themselves closed, much to his annoyance. Asmodeus lifted his head, glaring down at her, “Now, you listen to me, little girl. You’re gonna be good and you’re gonna–” her free hand reaching up to viciously start pulling at his hand and skin, kicking with all her might before she started scratching. He yelled in pain, trying to catch her before she got free enough to find the nearest kitchen knife and attempting to cut at his hands every time he tried to get near her before running up the stairs to Gabriel’s room to lock it.

Asmodeus looked at his bleeding hand, running the water over it before wrapping it in paper towels. He got his phone out, texting Lucifer that he didn’t feel well and that he’d be driving home, his only response was a “K”. He continued to softly groan in pain, making his way into the car, not bothering with his overnight clothes or whatever possessions he might have brought with him for the occasion. Meanwhile, she sat on the floor of Gabriel’s room against the door, holding the knife to her as close as she could as she gently tried calling her friend’s name to wake him up, eventually it worked as Gabe lifted his head tiredly, looking around before sitting up in a shock, “Why do you have a knife?” He asked, loud enough so only they could hear.

Through sobs, she explained, “He tried to touch me, Gabe. I didn’t want him to, but he just kept going. Please don’t tell Lucifer I hurt his friend, I just didn’t want him to keep touching me.” Gabriel came over slowly, taking the knife from her hand as the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut before driving away was heard. He softly wiped at her face and tried calming her down, asking what happened before she explained everything, his face contorting in anger and she mistook it for her, “Please, don’t be mad at me! I didn’t know how to get him to stop!” Trying to calm himself down, he took a deep breath, “You have to tell Lucifer Asmodeus assaulted you.” But she shook her head, “He’ll be mad at me, I can’t! I’ll ruin his night!”

“Then I’ll tell him!”

“No! You can’t! I can’t ever tell him what happened!” Gabriel sighed, giving her a hug and a kiss on the head as she cried into his chest, “I don’t know what I did wrong,” She sobbed, “He told me to imagine it was Lucifer and I didn’t even want to do that! I just wanted to get a snack, Gabriel! I just wanted a quiet night and to not be a problem!” He rubbed her hair.

“You’re not a problem.”

“I am! None of his friends like me, I can’t even see my best friends without someone being angry with me!” Gabriel hugged her tighter, shushing her softly before telling her he’d be right back, going downstairs to grab the food she dropped and to clean the knife of any blood and whatever might have fallen in the kitchen, as well as grabbing her phone. It was gonna be a long night, and he knew he’d have to tell Lucifer eventually. Laying her gently on the bed, Gabriel tried to move to the floor, but she wouldn’t have it, pleading he lay in the bed even if it was over the covers so Michael wouldn’t yell at them. After tonight’s events it was gonna be hard for her to sleep alone, so maybe if they told Michael in the morning he wouldn’t be so angry with them if he found out.

Back in Lucifer’s room, nobody missed Asmodeus, no one really made a comment about why he’d suddenly have to leave in the middle of the night. Lucifer told them he wasn’t feeling too hot so he was going home, and that was it. “Do you think it had anything to do with that girl?” Crowley couldn’t help but inquire. Lucifer rolled his eyes, “If you’re so in love with her Crowley, just ask her out!” “Oh, she’d never take me.” He feigned hurt. “She’s too in love with you, I could never compete.”

“Crowley, shut up before you’re the next person to go home.” “Whatever you say, Lucifer.”

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time- Ch 11

MASTERPOST

wow, this took a while! in all honesty? it was the effort it took to get back inside Tim's head. moving on, please check the A/N at the end, for the rest of the going ons and comments on the...cannon compliance. or lack of, therefore. a warning? I threw cannon out the window before I started. oh! and this ch mentions kind of vague suicide? so, if that's a trigger, skip the headlines about Adrien. (don't worry, I haven't killed him..yet)

While Marinette was giving Adrien a heart attack, across the ocean, the girl was also giving Tim Drake one.

It had been almost 24 hours since he had heard from the very prompt Marinette. After their last email, he had gone to bed. When he had woken up the next day, he had lunged for his computer only to find that his inbox sat empty. When he had checked it again after his first coffee, Tim was again disappointed.

After that, he had set his inbox to notify him if something from his friend came in.

Now, as he sat in his car after work, Tim anxiously hovered his finger over the email icon. He had stayed late to distract himself and had fallen asleep at his desk.  It was 11 at night, and his phone had gone off with a call from Alfred. The butler had been trying to get in contact with him, concerned that he had been kidnapped again.

Hesitantly, Tim thumbed his way into the drafts of his email and looked over the top one.

 From: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

To: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

Marinette,

I apologize if you feel that I have overstepped in the past 24 hours. I truly did not intend to find out from Jason. I had intended to ask you when you came for the Gala.

I know that we usually average 2-3 emails a day, but I wanted to give you some space to process if you needed.

I look forward to you joining us in Gotham, in a few weeks. I know that with all that is going on with Hawkmoth, you must be relieved to leave the city for some time. Alfred will probably reach out, but I was wondering if there was anything we could do to make your stay more enjoyable? Times around the galas are always a bit hectic, and I don’t want to make your life any more difficult. On another side note, will you be traveling alone? International travel can be quite hectic, especially if you are flying somewhere new.

It turns out that my father’s company likes to throw curveballs, and I will be flying to Paris in the next week. If you have time, maybe we could sit down and talk?

I was reading back through our emails and realized that you may not have heard. Jason and Gina have left on some sort of adventure. The only thing that they said was that we should start checking Italian news. Do you have any idea what that may be about?

I hope to hear from you soon.

-Tim

P.S. is the offer for the super coffee recipes still open? Those coffees are sounding more and more appealing.

After hesitating one more time, Tim hit send and watched as the message disappeared from his screen. With a sigh, the teen turned his car on, and made his way out onto the late-night streets of Gotham.

When he rolled out of bed the next morning, Tim blindly reached for his phone. Before he could open his email and look for a message from Marinette, a notification caught his attention.

ITALIAN GANG EXPOSED AS ROOT OF GOTHAM DRUG ISSUE

Rolling his eyes, Tim opened that headline. There the story went into more detail and the young CEO was able to see his older brother’s fingerprints all over the discovery. At the end, it mentioned two ‘biker vigilantes’ who had ridden through town and mostly done what they could to defend those who needed help. The author noted that the duo was gone by the time the gang had been brought to justice. It was rumored that they had been the ones to take the gang down.

With a roll of his eyes, Tim sent Jason a screenshot of the story and a good job, before flipping to his email.

There, sitting at the top of his inbox was…nothing from Marinette. A frown worked its way onto Tim’s face as he refreshed his email again. When nothing came up, he moved to his computer. As he navigated to the French news site he had bookmarked Tim reminded himself that there were heroes in Paris and that there was nothing to worry about.

He quickly revised the thought as he looked at the top headline.

ADRIEN AGRESTE MISSING.

The next one read very similarly.

GABRIEL AGRESTE CLAIMS SON RAN AWAY! IS HE HIDING THE INNER BEGINNINGS OF SCANDAL?

With a click, Tim opened another news site based in Paris.

A MOTHER’S SUICIDE. A SON’S DISAPPEARANCE. A FATHER’S ABUSIVE NATURE. AN UNFILTERED LOOK AT THE AGRESTE HOUSEHOLD FROM AN INSIDE SOURCE.

Worry settled in the pit of Tim’s stomach. If there were legitimate news sources running this kind of thing, something must be going on. Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything about the boy, and most likely they weren’t friends. Hell, they probably didn’t even know the other existed. He tried to brush off the headlines as the media overdramatizing things again. However, his gut just wouldn’t let him.

With a sigh, Tim opened a separate tab and set up his computer desk for the long haul. He was going to dig into the Agreste kid. After he checked on Marinette.

It had been a lot easier to find what he was looking for than he expected. Within the first hour, Tim had tracked down the people Adrien was close to because of his father and moved onto the boy’s school friends. When he had pulled up the school the missing teen attended, Tim froze.

It was the same Lycée that Marinette attended.

In a flurry of typing, Tim pulled up the school records. There was Marinette. A few familiar faces. And then…there! in the same class was the missing blonde boy. As the young vigilante stared at the class roster, Tim felt his stomach sink. Adrien and Marinette were in the same class.

While Bruce had shrugged off the worry that Tim had, the teen knew that he had a valid concern. There was a sinking in his gut, a tightness that he couldn’t explain. All Tim knew was that this connection between Adrien Agreste and Marinette was going to change the situation in Paris, drastically.

It was at three in the morning when Tim’s email box binged.

The teen’s head was resting on the keys, his arms slack at his sides. On the screen, where the cursor was blinking a line of unintelligible letters was running. As the bing went off again, louder, and Tim jerked up in surprise and blinked owlishly at the screen.

He had begged off patrol in favor of looking into a ‘case’. He had spent the entire evening camped out at his desk digging further into all things Paris. On one window, he had the files he was compiling on the names that kept coming up, while in another he monitored three different news sites known to report on Akumas. In one of the windows that was hidden behind piles of rabbit holes, was a file with one line typed

         MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG

As understanding ran over his face, Tim opened a new window and clicked into his email. There, waiting for him at the top of the inbox was an email from Marinette. 

From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

Tim,

 I am so sorry that I disappeared! One of my friends had a family emergency and I have been spending time with him helping with the fine details.

I appreciate the apology, but I can’t really blame you when Jason was being an idiot. It feels good to know that you now understand why and how Jason and I know each other. As for my older brother, last I heard, he was coming back to Paris on his way to Germany. He promised to be back in Gotham in time for the annual Holiday Gala.

You mentioned that you were coming to Paris before the Gala? Is everything ok? I would enjoy meeting you if there is time. Of course, much of my schedule will be revolving around finals, so maybe an ice cream break would be in order? Let me know when you arrive, and we can make plans!

That reminds me, I won't be on my computer much and I've been enjoying talking with you. If you want, you can text me at XX-XXX-XXXX-XX.

Have a good day,

~Marinette

P.S. I was going to send you the coffee recipes, but it would be better if I gave them to you in person!

Tension ran out of Tim’s shoulders as he reread the email. Marinette was ok, she didn’t hate him. but, as the teen reread his friend's (were they friends?) email, he realized that there was something off with her email. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but the young vigilante chalked it up to his exhaustion.

With a sleepy smile, Tim clicked out of his email and stood from the desk. A moment later, he was tumbling into bed. For once, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

As Bruce Wayne climbed the stairs to the upper levels of the Manor, his eyes caught on a computer bag that had been left in a nook off the stairs. With a small smile, the billionaire picked up the bag and collected the notes that had been left from whenever Tim had last worked there. it was late, and the teen had begged off patrol tonight to work on his own projects in preparation for his trip to Paris. At this time in the early morning, it would be hit or miss whether he would still be awake. Many times, when Bruce would check on Tim, the teen was passed out at his desk or on his bed surrounded with projects.

Bruce knew that Tim was working himself to the bone before his trip to Paris. The teen had dug into the supervillain problem that Jared Stone’s niece had mentioned to him. Bruce really hoped that Tim hadn’t put together that Jason was related to the girl, because that could cause problems within the family. Not because of the actual connection, but the secrecy that he and Jason had used to handle it.

With sending Tim to Paris there was a certain media risk. The only reason that Bruce was willing to risk the media was the fact that his son was the most informed on the supervillain situation. That, and there was actual clean-up work that needed to be done after finding corruption in their Parisian office.

As the billionaire cracked open Tim’s door, a smile crossed the man’s face. The teen was curled up in bed, his desk cluttered with work, his computer still running. His shoes were kicked off to the side, and his skateboard was leaning against the wall by the closet door. At the end of the bed was his carry-on, open and partially packed. At the top of the bag, just visible from the door was a box that had been wrapped. In Tim’s (surprisingly elegant) script was the name ‘Marinette’. Bruce studied the box for a moment, before shaking his head and nothing to ask Tim in the morning.

Leaving the door cracked, Bruce stepped into the space and put his son’s bag and cacophony of papers on the top of his dresser, where he would look when it was time for him to pack his bags in the morning. With one last glance at the sleeping teen, Bruce closed the door to let the boy sleep.

Skater Tim? Skater Tim.

hiiiiiiiii! I'm back! what did you think of the look back into Gotham? I wanted to do something that would look at things from outside the little bubble of Mari and Tim, so we got some Bruce time. am I keeping Bruce as a good dad? yes, I am. I think that *technically* Tim didn't get adopted (I looked it up, but dudes, I got every version of yes and no out there. if ANYONE KNOWS FOR SURE, LET ME KNOW.). ANYWAYS I decided that I was throwing out any and all cannon early on, so if you know what the official version is, lmk, but it's really only so that I have references to work off of for character references.

now that we are expanding the miracusquad, should Tim get a Miraculous? which one? also, the reason that Mari is kinda...distant, is because she is planning on how to kick hawkmoth's ass.

Luka is getting his miraculous soon! will I actually follow cannon for once? Nobody knows!

tag list!  @moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289 @solangelo252 @corporeal-terrestrial @woe-is-me0  @toodaloo-kangaroo

[thewritewolf]

What He Deserves

Summary: Not even a week has passed since Hawkmoth was revealed to all the world to be Gabriel Agreste. As Adrien sits in his truly empty house, unable to leave thanks to the crowd of people outside, he wonders if this is what he deserves for not realizing sooner.

But then again, not everyone has the same ideas about what he deserves...

Hello and welcome to another birthday fic! This one is for the ever amazing @leviaana, founder of my favorite discord group, fantastic artist, and occasional candy exchange buddy. She said she likes post-reveal hurt/comfort that turns to fluff and I aim to please!

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien tentatively pulled back the curtains in the second-floor living room and peered outside, across the porch and over the wall that separated him from the outside world.

The news had broken only a couple days ago - only hours after Adrien himself found out. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting at first, but it wasn’t long before the crowd started to form. Some were unquestionably reporters. His years as Chat Noir had made it easy for him to pick them out from a crowd. He even recognized some of their voices, which had long been chasing him for interviews.

Somehow, he didn’t think they were going to be asking him about his favorite flavors or the most interesting akumas now. Although they definitely would be interested in what he knew about Hawkmoth, now that his father had been unmasked.

Which is why he believed the other people in the crowd were here. Some just seemed curious. Others seemed... Angry.  

Maybe that was to be expected. The fall of Hawkmoth was as sudden as it was unexpected. Just another routine akuma attack that had accidentally revealed his base of operations. A quick five on one fight later and the butterfly miraculous was in Ladybug’s hands, a battered Gabriel Agreste was taken into custody, and Adrien Agreste’s life had been left in shambles.

It meant that there wasn’t much closure for anyone - not yet, at least. While people waited for his father’s trial to start, years of building frustration had to find an outlet somewhere.

And who better than the last free, living Agreste?

Thankfully, nothing had happened yet, but the crowd had turned his home into more of a prison than it had ever been while his father was in it and that was an accomplishment all on its own. Without his parents, Nathalie, or even the Gorilla to take up space in the mansion, he had never felt so alone before.

The only company Adrien had Plagg and his own emotions, and neither were doing wonders for his mental health.

“Kid,” Plagg said with a tired voice. They’d had this conversation plenty of times before and Adrien knew they were about to have it again. “None of this was your fault.”

“Yeah?” Adrien closed the curtain just as people started to look his way, plunging the room into darkness once again. “I’ve lived under the same roof as Hawkmoth for years.” Adrien raised his voice and threw his hands over his head. “I’m Chat Noir! If anyone could have found Hawkmoth ages ago, it would be me!” His arms fell limply to his sides once again and he stared dully at his kwami. His voice dropped to just above a whisper. “So why didn’t I?”

Plagg shook his head. “He was good enough to hide it from everyone and he was a recluse, even with you. There’s no way you could have known without doing some serious digging.”

“Maybe…” Adrien stared at a massive family painting, saw the cold and calculating look his father had even then. “Or maybe I just didn’t want to even consider it. Maybe I was having so much fun being Chat… fighting alongside my friends… alongside Marinette, that I just didn’t care.”

“You know that’s not true,” Plagg replied quietly.

“Who knows? That’s probably what they think now. No wonder they haven’t tried to visit since the news broke. They don’t want to be anywhere near me right now, and I can’t blame them.” Adrien put his back to the wall and slid down it, taking a seat on the ground and pulling his knees up to his chest. “I don’t want to be near me right now. No wonder they feel the same way.”

“Kid-”

Whatever Plagg was going to say was cut off when there was a knock at the front door. With how quiet and still the rest of the house was, it sounded as loud as thunder as it echoed in the emptiness. Adrien shot a fearful glance toward his kwami - had people finally stormed the mansion? - but Plagg just shook his head and smirked.

Cautiously but now a little curious, Adrien went down the stairs. He watched the door all the while as soon as it came into view. There was another knock. Not violent or angry. Polite. Familiar. But definitely insistent.

Adrien peeked out the window next to the front door and his eyes widened at the sight of his friends loitering on the other side.

Nino and Alya were chatting as if this was nothing out of the usual. Marching up to Hawkmoth HQ, straight past a future angry mob, just to knock on the front door? Who doesn’t do that on a Friday afternoon, honestly? And there was Chloe, of course, checking her makeup in her compact, looking as fashionably detached from her environment as ever.

And standing right in front of the door, expectantly, happily… was Marinette herself. One hand was holding onto a big duffle bag that was thrown over her shoulder and the other was held at her side as she stared up into the sturdy wood door. There was no doubt in her eyes, no worry that he might not answer. Just complete and patient faith.

How could he even contemplate letting her down?

Adrien opened the door and it was like breaking open the flood gates. The first thing he saw was Marinette’s face, her bright blue eyes looking up at him as they shifted from quiet contemplation to soft affection. Their eyes connected in a moment that lasted forever and he could almost swear that his heart stopped beating as they stared into each other…

“Dude!”

The moment shattered when Nino bodily threw himself over the threshold and collided with Adrien, forcing him to stumble back a few steps or fall down in a heap.

The others quickly followed Nino’s example and soon Adrien was caught at the center of one big group hug. Marinette was the last to join since she paused to close the door. A few seconds into the hug, Adrien realized to his surprise that he was trembling - had he really missed human contact that much over the last few days?

All too soon they each pulled back until they were standing around the foyer, watching him. That’s when he noticed that it wasn’t just Marinette with an overstuffed bag with her. It looked like each of them had packed for a long trip.

Some of his confusion must have shown on his face since Alya grinned and said, “Better get used to having some roommates for a while, blondie. We’re not going anywhere.”

“But how did you get passed the-?”

“She knew the passcode for the gate.” Chloe jerked a thumb at Marinette. “The rest of us glared at the crowd until they gave us some space.”

“But don’t worry ‘bout that, dude!” Nino threw an arm around Adrien’s shoulder. “We’re here to have a chill time. You’ve got the space and we’ve got the fun, so let’s get this party started!”

Nino steered Adrien towards his room and they got started.

‘Bringing the fun’ hadn’t even been close to an exaggeration on Nino’s part. There were video games, movies, board games, all sorts of ways to keep themselves entertained. His room started off as the cold and sterile place that it had been for most of his life. But as the hours ticked past, it slowly changed into something else. Someone would go and grab more pillows. They’d push some couches and chairs together in front of the television. Tables would be pulled together for a huge game. Snacks and drinks were strewn everywhere.

It was chaotic. His room was a mess.

It was the most fun he’d had out of the mask in his life. The house was filled with light and life and love for the first time in years and he had his friends to thank for that. Or, as he slowly realized, Marinette specifically. She was the one who had planned it all, organized them, and got as much entertainment together as possible.

The day gave way to night and they were all camped out in front of his television, lost in a cozy den of blankets and pillows propped up against his couch. They were deep into a movie marathon. It could have been twenty two hundred at night - it could have been four in the morning. Time was meaningless at this point. Almost everyone was asleep, except for him.

Well… him and Marinette.

She was laying right beside him as they shared the same blanket, scooted close to each other as the winter chill began to set in. They weren’t touching, but he could feel her warmth radiating off her. His hand twitched ever so slightly as he yearned to move it just a few centimeters and take her hand in his.

The years had brought them closer together than ever, especially after their identities had gotten revealed to each other. They’d always teetered on the edge of a relationship, but with all the uncertainties of life and the tangled mess of revealed identities, they never could commit.

But now, as he glanced furtively at her, lit only by the pale light of the movie, he wondered…

Then he remembered the reason they were here in the first place and his mood crashed. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve any of them. He-

“Adrien?”

Her voice was soft - he could barely hear her over the television, even with the audio turned down to a low rumble so their friends wouldn’t be woken by it.

She was waiting on an answer.

“Yeah?”

“We’re all here for you. We love you.” His ears may have heard ‘we’, but his heart had heard the ‘I’ that was hidden beneath it.

She was braver than him. Her hand crossed the short distance between them and she intertwined their fingers.

The television became blurred as tears began to build, clouding his vision. He shook his head as he bit his lips to hold back a sob.

“I don’t- I don’t deserve- After everything-”

“You aren’t your father,” she said quietly but firmly. “You’ve proven yourself so, so much better than that.” Her thumb began to rub against the back of his hand. “We’re not going anywhere.”

She scooted closer to him. His arms wrapped around her waist, with his hands meeting up on her back, pressing her close to him as he buried his face into her shoulder as the tears that he’d been holding back for so long began to fall. He was worried he was holding her too tight, but she didn’t seem to mind at all.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said as she held him back and kissed the crown of his head.

[e-milieeee]

haunted

Summary: When Gabriel goes a step too far, Plagg has decided he’s had enough. 

Meanwhile, Gabriel Agreste has discovered that his house may or may not be haunted, because a vengeful spirit certainly seems to be after him. 

Notes: basically plagg being a little gremlin and trolling gabriel like he deserves. ft. gabe’s 3 remaining braincells. based on this post by @hamsternamedmarinette and @snail-noir im sorry its so crappy lol 

haunted

“Well,” Adrien is saying as he trudges inside the room and kicks the door shut. “There’s that, then.”

Plagg flits out from his shirt. His face is set in an angry mask, tail sticking straight up. “That’s that?” he echoes. “No, that’s absurd! Your father’s absurd! He should come back here and I’ll give him a piece of my mind and—”

Adrien squeezes his eyes shut. “Plagg, it’s fine. Forget it.”

Plagg makes an angry noise in the back of his throat. “So you’re just gonna take that? For weeks? He has no right.”

In his hand is the piece of paper—now crumpled—that his father had shoved into his fingers before he stormed off: the schedule for the fashion show. It runs for a week, but there’s also a terrifying amount of preparations to be done two weeks prior—all of which his father had decided he needed to be present for.

“I can’t risk making father angry,” Adrien settles with.

Plagg folds his arms. “Fine,” his kwami says curtly, in a manner of speaking that Adrien always finds hard to argue with. “Hypothetically speaking, then, if your father found out his plans had been cata—destroyed, would you be allowed to go out?”

“Plagg, I’m not going to break into my father’s study as Chat Noir to cataclysm his work just so I can go out with friends.”

Plagg smiles at him. It’s the smile Adrien had often gotten before he’d discovered the toilet paper in his washroom all scratched up and littering the floor. “Don’t worry,” comes the reply. “You won’t have to.”

***

Gabriel Agreste’s study is locked, but that doesn’t prove a problem for the small black shape that slips through the doors like they’re made of nothing more than mist. It’s dark, but cats have always seen better at night anyway.

There, on the top of his desk, lies the designs for the first set of clothes that are to be showcased. Meticulous notes. Fabric samples. Timing and schedules. Signatures and contracts.

The small, black cat picks the folder up with two paws. Then it crumbles into dust.

***

“Nathalie, did you touch the folder on my desk?”

It’s been a long morning—Gabriel had been up at 4 AM in an attempt to see if he could get an edge on Ladybug and Chat Noir. It had been horrendous to find someone to akumatize so early, and by the time he’d pinpointed his victim—forty five minutes later—he had nearly fallen asleep. He’d been pummelled by Ladybug and Chat Noir. Absolutely pummelled. And then, as if the situation couldn't help but get worse, Audrey Bourgeois had called him at six (just when he was about to go back to bed) and told him she couldn’t make it to the fashion show.

That woman had no regard for timezones. And no regard for him, either, because part of the marketing for the fashion week was Audrey’s attendance.

Gabriel was considering akumatizing himself when he realized the manila folder on his desk—that had been there when he left the night prior—was nowhere to be seen.

He searches through all his files. Crawls under his desk. Checks his lair. It's gone.

“Nathalie!” he bellows again, and she comes barrelling through the door to his office.

“What is it, sir?”

Gabriel takes a deep breath. “Have you seen the files for the fashion show? It was in the folder on my desk when I left.”

“Sir, I haven’t been in your office since last night, and I’m certain I saw your files there. Are you sure you haven’t misplaced it?”

Misplaced it, yeah. That’s what it was. Probably.

Now, what he needed was a nap.

***

The files do not turn up. Gabriel sends Nathalie to print them out again. The most important stuff is stored on his computer, but there are signatures he’d spent weeks getting.

He locks the files in his drawer the next time he gets it.

***

Tuesday morning finds Gabriel Agreste feeling much more refreshed. He even joins Adrien for three minutes during breakfast.

He walks into his office to find his favourite coffee mug in smithereens on the ground.

The files are still stored safely in his drawer. But there is a big, ugly tear across the dress he’d been working on for the past three months.

Gabriel screams.

***

Gabriel Agreste isn’t a fan of security cameras in his office. Especially because anyone with some hacking ability could possibly get their hands on the tape, and the last thing he needs is someone seeing him descending into his lair, or opening the safe behind his painting. Really—there’s simply too many sketchy things he’s done in the office for him to trust putting a camera there.

But he installs two of them nonetheless. His coffee mug could be an accident. But that rip on the dress? No, the only explanation is that it was intentional. But how?

Gabriel thinks of possibilities until he gives himself a headache.

***

“Father seems stressed lately,” Adrien notes to Plagg. There’s not much time for himself between busy schedules, but the moments in between he catches to talk to his kwami. The past week, stuck alone in his room with barely any interaction with his friends, has been draining. He cherishes the precious minutes he gets to spend with Plagg.

“Does he?” Plagg asks in a tone of practiced disinterest. “Well, he does have that really important fashion week thing coming up.”

“He asked me if I’d broken into his study a day ago, but he always locks his study. I think some of his files were missing.”

“Oh?” Plagg replies. “That’s terrible misfortune.”

“Father says he thinks a thief snuck in in the middle of the night and stole them, but we have security cameras all around the house and nothing happened.”

“Spooky.”

“Plagg…”

Plagg only shrugs. “Perhaps your house is haunted,” he replies disinterestedly. “Good thing you’re not scared of ghosts, Adrien.”

***

The house is haunted, and Gabriel cannot sleep.

The most terrifying part of watching the footage is that he sees nothing. There is no movement. No nothing. But then, the next morning, his files inside the locked drawer have disappeared.

Nathalie asks him about the dark rings around his eyes. He drinks two more cups of coffees in response.

***

Gabriel’s eyes are burning, but he’s determined to stay awake.

He likes to think himself neat and meticulous, but even he has his breaking point—his desk is littered with coffee cups, and he’s resorted to drinking energy drinks to keep himself awake. There’s less than ten days until the fashion show starts. It’s been so heavy on his schedule that he’s barely found time to akumatize three three people the past week.

Ladybug and Chat Noir must be having a field day while he’s sitting miserably in his office, waiting to catch the thief, too exhausted to summon up more akumas.

The clock ticks past midnight. Gabriel nearly faceplants into a coffee mug.

Another cup of redbull.

By the time it’s two in the morning, nothing shocking in particular has happened. Every time the flashing light of a car drives past the front of the house he starts, sits back down, and struggles to keep his eyes open.

It’s 2:04 when a crash sounds outside of his office.

Like a madman, Gabriel scrambles up from his seat. He knocks over a half-finished mug of coffee in the process, but that doesn’t matter. The door of his office slams open. He trips on a rug. But he gets up and runs like he’s never run before.

With all the force he can muster, he slams his palm down on the light, and the once-dark staircase and hall become bathed in golden light. The chandelier flickers twice and he stares down at the hall with half the mind to wonder if he’s going to finally see the ghost.

Gabriel is the only one in the hall.

He checks once more. Then again. Then again. But there is no one there, no source of the crash—

Oh, no.

The painting he’d bid at an auction twelve years ago—one that had cost a fortune—has fallen off the wall and face planted into the floor. The sight of it physically hurts Gabriel, and he’s scrambling towards it in a mixture of fear and anger when another noise sounds in his office.

In the months of being Hawkmoth, Gabriel Agreste has felt a generous range of emotions. But never has he felt such bone-chilling fear.

He heads back up the steps with robotic movements numbly. Down the corridor. Into his office.

There is no one there, and the mess that has been made is moreso his fault than of the invisible thief—or ghost—but then Gabriel sees one of his locked drawers open and the contents inside dumped unceremoniously on the ground.

The next day, when Nathalie finds him out cold on the ground, he attributes it to the exhaustion and the amount of coffee and energy drinks he’d consumed. But deep down, Gabriel knows that it’s the terror that’s finally caught up.

Either way, he faints.

***

Gabriel is confined to bed by a very concerned Nathalie. She usually heeds to his instructions, but the rare insistence from her and his own fatigue lands him out of commission for the day. It doesn’t stop him, however, from giving her a set of instructions.

“First, my office,” Gabriel croaks. His throat hurts—he must’ve caught a cold as well. “Please clean everything up and reinstall the locks. And then… and then…”

He thinks of the missing files—three times—and grits his teeth. “Cancel the fashion week.”

Nathalie’s jaw drops open. “Sir—”

“I know,” Gabriel mutters. “I just… I’m left with no choice. I’ll reschedule. Make up some excuse.”

She dips her head. “Noted, sir. Is that all?”

Gabriel gives her a miserable nod. She’s halfway out the door when he remembers.

“Nathalie!” he yells. “Get me a shaman, too.”

***

“The fashion week is cancelled.” Adrien looks up from practicing piano. “Father is sick, I think, which might be why. Nathalie looked super stressed when I saw her before my lessons.”

“Cancelled?” Plagg echoes dispassionately. “Huh. That’s too bad, I guess.”

“No, that’s good! I mean, it’s not good that my father is sick and Nathalie is stressed, but… at least I won’t be hounded about preparations. I even got permission to go out today.”

“Huh,” Plagg replies. He settles himself into his wheel of cheese. “I guess you’re lucky after all, then.”

Notes: yeah idk what i wrote but master fu is the shaman they hire and he finds out gabriel is hawkmoth and arrests him and the end if u wanna know what happens next 

Here’s my fics masterlist! 

[quixotin]

pst. hey. hey kid, yes you.

Chapter 9 of The Wall Between Us is up on AO3 if you feel like crying over fictional teenagers who like to dress up in skintight suits to battle a magical terrorist. 

Read on Tumblr below the cut. 

Chapter 9  Adrien would like to say that he went back to school the Monday after Alya’s intervention because if he stayed a day longer, his father would probably just go ahead and arrange for a private tutor. However, if he was really honest, his return to school was attributed largely to his fear of Alya. He knew she was not above storming into the mansion again and dragging him all the way to his classroom, no matter his state or what he was wearing.

Nobody needed to see him in days-old comfort clothes, so he decided it was in everyone’s best interest if he just showed up.

Luckily, he severely overestimated how much of a fuzz his classmates would make upon his return. The only ones who prodded with questions were Nino and Chloe.

The sight to behold was Marinette, who had barely batted an eye when he went into the room. He felt as if somebody had punched him in the gut as he took her in. She looked sick, lost in her thoughts. Her eyes were directed at her table. She clutched the phone he had given her as Chat Noir on her hand, tucked underneath the table, knuckles white from holding it so tight.

He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and forced to calm himself even though there was nothing he wanted more than to hurry up to her and pull her in the tightest hug he could give her. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how much of an idiot he had been for leaving her hanging, how awful he felt for making her believe he abandoned her.

Then the bell rang and had no option but to take a seat as their teacher came in. The end of the day couldn’t arrive fast enough, he couldn’t wait to call her. He had lied about his schedule so he wouldn’t be forced to go back home when he called her. He had told Natalie there would be an extended fencing practice but instead he’d head somewhere in the outskirts of the city where he’d have enough privacy.

He found a tower that seemed tall enough that no one would spot him hanging around at the top. He transformed and pulled the burner phone from his backpack, then with shaky hands dialed her number. He held his breath as the line rang.

It couldn’t have been five seconds before someone answered at the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

It was her, she sounded worried. “Is it you?… Hello?”

“Yeah,” he said, finding it hard to speak with the painful knot that strangled his vocal cords.

Ladybug let out a gasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yes…Ladybug, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I–”

“Stop,” she said. “Whatever you’re going to say next, I want you to tell it to my face. Tonight, top of Eiffel.”

“Okay, but–”

“Tonight, Chaton… I trust you to be there,” she said, then hung up.

Chat Noir gulped. Maybe she suspected what he had wanted to do. Even though Alya had advised against it, he was still not entirely sure it wasn’t the right way to go. Things would be so much more complicated from now on, and even though there was still the risk of his father being Hawkmoth, the prospect of confirming his suspicion seemed just as dreadful as revealing his identity to Marinette.

That night, he was earlier to the rendezvous than Ladybug, which gave him a few minutes to take in the city for a while and calm his thoughts. He was caught off guard when Ladybug suddenly swung from behind him, grabbed him, and hoisted him all the way up, to the very top of the tower.

“What the—”

“The only way you’re getting off from here is with your baton,” she said, tearfully. “I won’t let you give up the ring. I– you… You can’t!”

Chat Noir looked at her for a second and then launched himself into her arms. “I’m so sorry, Ladybug,” he said. “I’m sorry I disappeared like that, I… it took me by surprise.”

Ladybug sobbed against his hair. “You… you… dumbass!”

“Takes one to spot one,” he joked softly, still hugging her tightly. He only let her go once she had calmed down a bit.

“Ladybug, I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I never wanted to hurt you… Which is why I can’t—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she pleaded.

Chat Noir sighed heavily, sensing as his assuredness wavered. “I can’t be Chat Noir anymore, Ladybug. I don’t want to make this harder on you…”

“You aren’t!” she protested. “Chat Noir, you’re my partner!”

“Trust me, you’ll be better off without–”

“For once in your life, stop making assumptions!” she yelled, wishing she knew his name so that he could shout it. “You always do this! You never give me a chance to explain!” she cried. “Chat Noir, you won’t make things harder on me by knowing my identity.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, quietly.

“What?” she demanded. “What is it that I don’t get since you haven’t grown past hiding things from me, apparently?” At his silence, she pressed again. “What is it Chat Noir?” she cried.

“I’m in love with you!” he yelled back, if only to interrupt her accusations, summoning a heavy silence. “I love you,” he repeated softly, after what felt like an eternity. “I know who you are, Marinette.”

She gasped at the sound of her name. A part of her knew one day in the future he’d probably speak it, but it was one of those things one assumes but never really understands until they happen. The same way one knows life will happen at some point but cannot really fathom it.

“I did get over you,” he explained. “Then I fell in love with you again, with you under the mask… I know you’re with Luka and I don’t want to get in the way. But I also can’t… I–”

Ladybug didn’t know what else to do but to hug him. “You don’t have to tell me who you are,” she said softly. “I’ll keep my distance. Just… please don’t leave. You won’t get in the way, I promise. No matter what you think, you’ll never be an obstacle for me, I need you to understand that. Please, Chat.”

Chat hugged her tightly and nodded against her shoulder. “Okay.”

They stayed like that for a good while and once calm was regained, they descended back to the lower beams of the tower, where they usually met.

They were quiet until a question dawned on Ladybug. “Why did you show up to the hang-out with no transformation anyway?”

“It was the middle of the day,” he said. “And… there was an emergency.”

Ladybug arched an eyebrow at him.

“Um… don’t ask follow-up questions, but… I have reason to believe Hawkmoth might be Gabriel Agreste.”

Ladybug widened her eyes. “What?”

“I, uh… got a lead from someone who’s very close to the Agrestes and there’s evidence he has—or at least had the Peacock Miraculous. But knowing how he works, he probably has given it to his assistant, Natalie Sancoeur.”

“Gabriel Agreste?” she said pensively. “That can’t be, he’s been Akumatized.”

“And I’ve fooled you so that you thought my civilian self was hanging around while I was actually transformed one time, anything is possible, LB. Especially since he’s an adult. Remember what Bunnix said? Adults develop more command over the Miraculous.”

Ladybug shook her head. “But… How did you find out? Who told you?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Chat Noir. “I know, I know how it looks but… you trust me, right?”

She looked straight into his eyes and nodded.

“So please, take my word for it. I’m almost completely sure he’s Hawkmoth.”

“Okay,” she said. “Somebody ought to be checking on Adrien Agreste, then. He might be in danger if Gabriel and Natalie are Hawkmoth and Mayura.”

“I’ll take care of that, don’t worry.”

Ladybug gave him a long, thoughtful look but nothing came of it. She blinked a couple times and looked back at the city, a shaky breath escaping her lips.

“We have to make sure though,” she said. “It could be a disaster if it turned out it wasn’t him and we make a move. And even if he is, we need to figure out how to defeat him. I don’t want to let out too many Miraculous to fight Hawkmoth but at the same time I’m not sure we can defeat him just between you and me.”

“I’m working on that, too.”

Ladybug gave him a look. “Chat you’re not sneaking into his house or something like that, right? It could be very dangerous, what if he catches you? We need a plan.”

“I’m trying to get closer to Adrien Agreste,” he lied. “He might have a clue.”

“Maybe I could help,” Ladybug offered. “I know him in civilian life.”

Chat Noir bit his tongue. “It’s not necessary, Bugaboo, I also know him in civilian life. But if you’d like, be my guest. Just be careful.”

“Same to you.”

The air between them got steadily lighter as the hours passed and the nightlife of the city quieted down into a soft murmur. Ladybug’s eyelids became heavier with the flowing of the night and soon began dozing off. It only came to her attention when her head fell and found support on Chat’s shoulder. She quickly jolted and patted her cheeks to try and regain awareness.

Chat Noir chuckled. “Maybe we should head back,” he suggested.

Ladybug shook her head stubbornly.

“Why not? You’re falling asleep.”

“I’m scared you’ll leave the ring,” she admitted with a mutter.

Against his will, a powerful wave of affection for her coursed through his body which compelled him to pull her into his arms. Yet, he restrained himself and simply gave her a warm smile.

“I won’t do that, cat’s honor,” he said. Seeing as his reassurance didn’t convince her, he added, “I promise, Ladybug.”

With that, each went their own way.

Thankful that the next day would be a school holiday, Marinette planned on sleeping in and gathering her bearings. Which was why she was caught completely off guard when somebody rang her apartment’s bell sometime during the late morning the next day.

Marinette begrudgingly got out of bed to open the door and was surprised to find Luka.

Luka took her in, she was wearing pajamas and seemed she had had a long night. Her hair was a little bedraggled and there were bags under her eyes. He suspected he knew exactly why. Somebody had spotted Chat Noir and Ladybug talking at the top of the Eiffel Tower the night before. The way his stomach churned with insecurity over what could they have possibly talked about reassured him in the worst way possible, that he was about to do the right thing for both of them.

“Luka?” Marinette gasped, dread washing over her. “What– I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your texts… I was…”

He sighed. “It’s okay, Mari… Can I come in?”

Marinette simply nodded and led him to her room. Luka tried to pay no heed to how weak his legs felt as they climbed up the stairs, how his throat was tightly tied up in a painful knot.

Marinette sat on her chaise as Luka paced around nervously, trying to gather courage.

“Mari, I…”

“Stop, I know what this is about. I’m sorry I hadn’t been answering the phone, Luka. I really am. It’s just…” she looked down. “There’s been some stuff going on. I’m sorry…”

“It’s not that,” Luka said. “I figured there must be something going on if you didn’t pick up, I know you don’t mean to push me away. But that’s not why I came here.” He looked down, taking notice of his trembling hands. He sighed. “Mari, I’ve been trying so hard. But I just… I can’t take it anymore. I’m not like you.”

Marinette stared perplexed at Luka, who now stood at the center of the room looking down.

“What are you talking about?”

“I know,” he said, still not able to look at her. “You said you wouldn’t want me to tell you if I found out, but the truth is I can’t act as if nothing’s going on anymore.”

Marinette slowly caught drift of what Luka implied, feeling a sudden chill running down her spine.

“I know your secret,” he admitted, finally looking at her, who was pale as a ghost and with eyes wide open. “I didn’t mean to,” he immediately added. “It was an accident. I wanted to tell you that I knew, but I… I was so scared that you’d want to break up with me, then when Chat picked me to join you the last time I fought, I knew I had to try and tell you again. Then you said you wouldn’t want to know if I knew… But I just can’t take it anymore.”

Marinette was petrified in her seat.

“Marinette, I know you don’t mean to hurt me. But I just… I can’t take it. I tried to get used to it, but it’s just driving me mad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’ve been evading me because he was gone,” he said with a strained voice, trying his hardest not to cry in front of her.

“Luka, I– It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?”

“I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to explain myself without revealing my identity,” she said quietly then looked down, tears pooling in her eyes knowing that wasn’t all the truth, hating that she understood why Luka was directing the conversation to where she suspected it was headed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He’s my partner, Luka,” she explained. “I can’t just act like everything’s okay when he gets hurt.”

Luka looked down and sighed. “That never stopped you before,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“You used to tell me about your life as Ladybug,” he pointed out. “I never asked questions because I really just wanted to help you, but it wasn’t hard to figure that’s what the ‘macaron mafia’ was when I discovered you were Ladybug. And then suddenly, you stopped talking about it when we started dating.”

Marinette sighed. “I did think about telling you,” she admitted, to which Luka looked up at her hopefully.

“So why didn’t you?” Luka asked, impatient at Marinette’s silence. He looked at it from her perspective. The battle against Queen Wasp ended up revealing the identity of almost all the wielders and that meant Hawkmoth knew. They were akumatization targets.

“I’ve only ever been akumatized once,” Luka said, catching drift of her logic. “Why... why don’t you trust me?” he asked, sounding more wounded than he intended.

“I do trust you, Luka. But you never know what might happen in the future,” she explained.

“Something like breaking up?” Luka asked sadly.

The silence that met his question was worse than any injury he’d ever gotten. Luka didn’t know one could possibly be in this much pain while physically intact.

“As Ladybug there’s many things I have to sacrifice. I need to be prepared for everything. At first I thought of telling you because we were just friends and you’re good at handling your emotions way more than me or Chat, even. But a break-up... that’s enough to get anyone. I’m not saying it would happen, but...”

He clung to the silence like one clings to a lifeline before falling into an abyss. He knew what he needed to say next and yet he couldn’t bring himself to speak the words. He knew this couldn’t go on. Either way, he knew there was no way around getting hurt. Staying with her was not good for him, but leaving would break his heart.

Suddenly, he let go of his lifeline. “I think we should break up.”

“What?” Marinette said, gasping, looking up to him. “N-no! Why? I said I’m sorry.”

“Mari, I know you love him,” he said, painfully.

“I also love you. Luka, if you just give me a little time, I can just–.”

Luka walked close to her and gently took her hands in his. Then, asked a question that, though he knew was selfish, simply needed to hear the answer to, “Do you think you could love me as much as you love him?”

“I… I’m trying,” she said gently and pulled him into a hug to prove her point. “I’m trying.”

A sob finally managed to escape Luka as Marinette held him as tight as she could. “That’s the point,” he said as he snaked his arms around her, too. “I don’t want you to force yourself to feel something… something that doesn’t come naturally.”

Marinette cried.

“I… I can’t compete with him, Marinette.”

“It’s not a competition!” Marinette protested.

“I know it’s not supposed to be,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter what I do, the thought is always there, at the back of my head. I can’t help but compare myself… I’m jealous out of my mind, Marinette,” he confessed, burying his face into the nook of her neck.

“You don’t have to be,” Marinette said. “Luka, you don’t… You’re so different from him, you don’t have to be jealous of him. The way I feel about you is different.”

“I know who he is, too,” he confessed quietly. “I know I won’t be able to take it.”

Marinette pried herself off Luka’s arms, eyes wide with terror.

“It was also an accident,” he admitted, sadly. “I was hiding from an Akuma one time we had a date. You tend to pick the same places to transform,” he said.

Marinette trembled. “Luka… you… you know what will happen if Hawkmoth ever akumatizes you again?”

“I know,” he said. “I’d never put you in danger like that,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s up to you,” she said with fear in her voice

“I meant what I said when you first started confiding in me, Mari. I’ll keep your secret. You can trust me…” His voice broke again. “But… it doesn’t change how I feel. I can’t change how I feel, I can’t help wishing I was him, and getting jealous and… It’s not good or fair for you or me.”

Marinette cried softly, not finding it in herself to refute him because she knew he was right, as usual.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Me too.”

Luka didn’t hang around much longer after having said what he needed to say. He didn’t want to leave Marinette crying like that, but if he didn’t leave in that instant, he knew he wouldn’t have the will keep his word and he’d inevitably backtrack on it. He’d ask for a second chance, even though he knew much like when he was Viperion, sometimes we don’t get the things we want no matter how many times we try.

He hurried back home and immediately called his friends so that they’d come to be with him. He didn’t trust himself in the state and he meant to keep his promise: He wouldn’t be akumatized, no matter the cost.

Marinette, on her part, did call Alya but once she had already gotten a good hold of her emotions. She sent her a message in the afternoon. Unbeknownst to her, Alya had to ditch going to the movies with Nino and Adrien. When they asked why the sudden change of plans, Alya had to do some mental somersaults to come up with an excuse who was believable both for Nino and Adrien.

Nino knew it wasn’t like her parents to call her for sudden babysitting duty. Adrien knew that almost any excuse she’d come up with would be inevitably related to Marinette.

“My sister broke her nose in a boxing match,” she explained. It wasn’t an entire lie, Nora had broken her nose, just not that day. “My mom and the girls were with her and apparently it’s a whole ordeal, so I need to go and pick up the girls like, asap. Sorry guys.”

It seemed to do the trick. Half an hour later, she showed up at the Dupain-Chengs’ door with two liters of caramel ice cream and her bodyweight in chocolate.

By the look on Sabine when she opened the door, it seemed Marinette had already told her parents of the breakup. She saw herself into Marinette’s room, knocking a couple of times at the trap door before entering.

Marinette was in bed, embodying the definition of a blanket burrito as she munched on a plate of macarons with Tikki.

Alya gave her a look and only sighed, pulling her into a hug. “Oh, girl.”

Marinette sniffed. “I feel like such an asshole, Alya. He didn’t deserve this. He’s so… so… good. And I hurt him so bad, you should’ve seen his face. He didn’t deserve this…”

“I don’t think it was your fault, Mari,” Alya offered. “Nor Luka’s, for that matter. Did he say why?”

“He found out by accident,” she muttered. “He knows who we both are.”

Alya hissed in sympathy for him. “Yeah… then, that makes sense.”

“Why? Who is he?” Marinette complained. “I’m getting sick and tired of everyone keeping me in the dark about this.”

“I thought Chat didn’t want to reveal his identity,” Alya said.

“He said, ‘I don’t want to get in your way,’” Marinette imitated him, doing a stupid voice. “And–and Luka! He did the same thing! He broke up with me because he thinks I love Chat more than I love him, he said he didn’t want to force me to feel something that wasn’t there. And…I get that he might think that, but he didn’t even give me a chance to–to prove to him that I also care about him!” she cried.

“Mari,” Alya said softly. “But was he right? Luka, I mean.”

“I… I do love him, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“He was right,” Marinette said, sobbing. “I feel awful that it didn’t work out, after all he did for me. He was there for me when I most needed him. He doesn’t deserve to suffer like this, and I hate that I’m the one who hurt him,” Marinette cried.

Alya rubbed her back and sighed. “I know it hurts, girl. But you did the right thing. Like you say, Luka is a good person, he deserves to be with someone that can love him the way he needs to be loved.”

“I know,” Marinette admitted.

Alya perked up urgently as her thoughts caught up with her. “But what if he gets akumatized? Hawkmoth will know and then–”

“He said he’d try his best to keep the secret,” Marinette said. “I know, don’t look at me like that. But honestly, what can we do other than to try to get the upper hand on Hawkmoth before he gets akumatized? Chat said he has a lead on him, that it might be Gabriel Agreste. I figured if we manage to bust him first, then it wouldn’t really matter, would it?”

“Marinette, Luka literally just broke up with you,” she said desperately, grabbing her shoulders. “Do you not remember how absolutely awful Kagami’s Akuma was when Adrien broke up with her?”

“Why would that have to do anything with Luka?” Marinette asked, quirking her head to the side.

Alya mentally scolded herself. Too much information. “Nothing, it’s just, break-up Akumas are super powerful. And he literally knows your identity!”

“I know, but Luka isn’t anything like Kagami,” she said. “For starters, Kagami didn’t have friends to rely on when Adrien broke up with her and that’s why her Akuma was so powerful. Their breakup was just the final strike on layers on top of layers of negative emotions. Luka is not like that.”

Alya had to keep to herself the remark that Marinette perhaps had too much faith in him.

Although her conversation with Alya helped Marinette to earn some consolation, she still couldn’t help but feel devastated for the next couple days. It was natural, she supposed. But that didn’t change the fact that the breakup between Luka and her had suddenly made things a little awkward with Juleka and had unmistakably altered the dynamic of their friend group. The fact that Luka waited at the sidewalk for his sister at the end of the school day, instead of by the steps as he used to do before. The fact that he practically had to look the other way to pretend Marinette was not there.

She knew why he did it, and that it was selfish to want to talk to him. It didn’t change the fact that she desperately wished she could do something to make him feel better.

She sighed, why did everything have to be so complicated with these boys all the time? Adrien, Luka, Chat Noir. In spite of her heartache, she also couldn’t help but be a little fed-up with the whole drama that had plagued her life for the good part of two years.

As days kept on rolling, she fell back into the habit of taking anonymous metro rides and going on walks in parts of the city where she was certain she wouldn’t come across any of her acquaintances. A moment of anonymity in her civilian persona was always a good way to sort her thoughts out. Apparently, one of Paris’ resident celebrities had the same idea, she realized one of such afternoons as she found the unlikely picture of Adrien hanging out in some indistinct part of the city.  

He hadn’t noticed Marinette saw him and sat on an unassuming bench in a random city promenade. His usual entourage was decidedly missing, and for some reason he had concluded that donning a ridiculously mismatching outfit a neon green cap would somehow conceal him. Marinette had to laugh. That boy wouldn’t be able to hide his identity for the life of him.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, in case you were wondering,” she teased, deciding to approach him for a quick hello. She found it refreshingly easier to talk to him now that the mess of emotions that always tied up her tongue were missing.

Adrien was effectively startled. “Marinette?”

At the same time, both asked, “What are you doing here?”

Laughing, Adrien said, “Jinx, you owe me a soda.”

“You didn’t answer my question, I owe you nothing.”

“Um… I’m sort of sneaking out,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Ah. Heard you’ve been doing that a lot, lately.”  

Adrien shrugged, blushing slightly. “Teenage rebellion? What about you?”

“Just, uh, taking a walk. Clearing my head and so on.” She nodded. “Yep.”

A bit of an uncomfortable silence set between the two, and so Marinette hurried to excuse herself. “Well, I better get going. By the way, you might want to use a cap that’s not the color of a traffic sign if you want to pass unnoticed,” she joked, but Adrien distinguished the inklings of sadness in her voice. He was too used to putting up a happy face when he felt anything but to not notice Marinette was doing the same. The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

His stomach churned, he hated to see her looking so down. He suspected it had something to do with Luka, probably a fight. He found himself fighting the urge to ask. He knew he shouldn’t meddle, after all, that’s the reason why he didn’t want to reveal himself. But if there was anything he could do to make her feel better, he’d give it his best shot, even if it was just as Adrien.

After a few seconds of deliberation, he stopped her. “Hey, I know this is out of nowhere and I don’t mean to be awkward but, uh, would you like to just… hang out a bit? We could find something to do. I mean, unless you’re busy…”

Marinette pondered on it for a second, taken a bit aback by the proposition. “Sure, why not. What do you have in mind?”

Adrien stood up and dusted off his pants. “Are you up for a little breaking and entering?”

“Erm. No?”

He laughed. “It’s not as illegal as it sounds, I promise.”

Adrien and Marinette headed to the first convenience shop they could find to buy as many snacks as they could fit in Marinette’s backpack. They were essential to his plan, Adrien assured as he insisted on paying the whole loot himself.

Thanks to his neon cap, they almost busted his cover but after a few “Oh really? You think I look like Adrien Agreste? heh. I get that a lot,” they managed to buy their goods. Once packed, Adrien started testing the front doors of different apartment buildings to find one which wouldn’t be locked.

“Success,” he said, as they found one after a few tries.

“What are you doing?” Marinette asked, completely confused as she followed him through the stairs all the way to the top floor, where he struggled with the door to the roof. He pulled a card from his wallet and clicked it open.

Marinette was absolutely dumbfounded.

“You are an actual criminal,” she said, laughing breathily.

“After you,” he said, and then grabbed an indistinct bottle which lay on the rooftop to prevent the door from closing.

They sat down at the edge of the rooftop and emptied Marinette’s backpack, each grabbing the drink of their choice. As Adrien deliberated which pack of gummies–since gummies were his favorite–to open first, Marinette tried to push away how awfully reminiscent this was of her meetings with Chat Noir. On very quiet nights, one of them, usually Chat, would volunteer to detransform, head to a convenience store or a kebab shop to grab a late-night snack, which they would eat at the top of their favorite sightseeing spots.

“So, this is what you do in your free time?” Marinette said, opening a bag of chips to go with her soda. “Sneaking into people’s rooftops?”

“You could say that, I guess,” he said.

Marinette shook her head as she munched on the chips.

“It’s just nice to hang out where no one will find you sometimes,” he explained.

“Yeah, I can see the appeal…” After a moment of silent contemplation of the landscape, Marinette spoke again, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Only if I get to ask you something, too,” he said with a wink, to which Marinette rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Okay, shoot,” he said.

“How come you’ve been so rebellious lately? I mean, I just noticed you’ve been missing your gazillion things to do, and Nino just mentions it sometimes. I don’t mean to pry, it’s just… you always seemed so, so–”

“Boring?”

“Perfect.”

Adrien scrunched his nose in disgust as he stuffed his mouth with a handful of Haribo bear gummies. “Precisely because of that. I’m tired of acting like someone I’m not.” He sighed. “I was doing it to please my father because I thought… I thought if I just did what he wanted he’d get out of his head and mourn my mom like a normal freaking person. But lately I’ve realized he’s not grieving her, he’s just an asshole.”

Marinette perked up at the comment, suddenly remembering Chat Noir’s suspicions.

“That sounds tough… Is there anything in particular that he does, or…?”

Adrien gave her a funny glance. “He made me homeschooled ‘til age fifteen. And he also sorts of forced me into this whole model thing. I mean, I don’t have anything against it, but I would like to stop at some point. My dad will probably have an aneurysm when that happens, though.”

Marinette chuckled half-heartedly. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, I just try not to think about it ‘cause otherwise it just gets super depressing,” he said, pulling his knees to his chest. “Can I ask you now?”

Marinette nodded.

“How come you’re so… calm right now?”

“Calm?”

“I think this is the first time we’ve had a full conversation,” Adrien said, with a bit of a blush. “It’s… nice.”

“Oh. That, heh.” Marinette blushed, too. “I don’t know, you always just made me a little nervous, is all.”

“Why, is it because I’m famous?” he said, acting smug so as to annoy her, to which Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Ugh. You’re so full of yourself,” she said, chuckling. She didn’t know what came over her as she jabbed him with her elbow. There was a certain familiarity to the lightness of their conversation that she couldn’t pinpoint, something that made her simply trust him.

Adrien was surprisingly open about himself. It could be they were enjoying a sort of privacy that was almost just reserved for her and Chat Noir, but it was pleasantly surprising. She almost felt sad that she hadn’t gotten over him before.

A few years ago, she would never had done this in a million years, but in the light of how her breakup with Luka made her realize important things about herself, she just decided to let him know.

“It’s kind of silly, actually,” she said. “I used to have this huge crush on you.”

Adrien coughed on his drink. “Really?” he said, managing to sound shocked. It was not because he didn’t know, but because he was surprised Marinette actually had the guts to admit it to his face.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But it’s all water under the bridge now, don’t worry.”

“Oh, sure!” Adrien said, laughing nervously and unable to feel a little wounded. “And anyway, how are things with Luka?”

“That’s two questions in a row,” she teased, trying to steer the conversation away from that topic.

He rolled her eyes, ruffled her hair, and used the distraction to snatch the bag of chips from her hands.

“Hey! What you’d do that for?” she exclaimed.

“There’s your question,” he said grinning at her and handing her the bag again.

Marinette laughed, faking indignance.

“You don’t have to answer that, though,” Adrien said, assuming a quieter demeanor. “I just noticed you’ve been looking a bit down lately, and Luka doesn’t hang out with the group anymore, so I thought maybe something was going on… but actually, don’t answer. It’s nosy of me, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette said with a sigh, looking out to the city. “Actually, we just broke up,” she admitted, sadly.

“What?”

Marinette shrugged, without looking at him as tears were threatening to make an appearance. “We just… we weren’t right for each other.”

Adrien regretted the turn the conversation had turned. “You really love him, huh?” he asked quietly.

“Yes… no… I don’t know,” she admits. “It’s complicated. I do love him, just… not in the way he wants me to–it’s just… It’s a mess. I really care about him, but I realized lately that I sort of love someone else, so it’s really not fair to keep dating him. And he was the one that broke up with me, anyway. He was smart enough to figure it out before even I did,” She sniffed and suddenly realized what she just had done. “Oh, wow. And just like that I’m oversharing. I’m so sorry, I rant without noticing, sorry,” she said blinking back tears and fanning her face, chuckling with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to dump my problems on you.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Adrien hurried to reassure her, if only so as to hide the confusion Marinette’s confession stirred inside him. “I don’t mind.”

After a while he said, “I get it, though. It’s the same reason I broke up with Kagami.”

Marinette turned to look at him. “It sucks big time,” he said. “I didn’t want to let her down because she’s a great girl and she was unbelievably good to me, but… At one point you just realize it’s just not fair.”

Marinette nodded, surprised that Adrien would understand exactly where she was coming from. “That’s… that’s… you get it, yeah.”

The moment was abruptly interrupted by a sort of commotion. A massive electric blue cloud of dust rose in the horizon, then contracted, then expanded, again and again. It was an Akuma, no doubt, but it seemed almost as if it was glitching. As if the butterfly couldn’t decide whether or not to akumatize.

Both of them stood up at the same time, snacks forgotten.

“Uh… we should get down,” Adrien offered, knowing that Marinette would probably look for an excuse to go transform. “It’s not safe up here with an Akuma around.”

“Right!”

They rushed downstairs and out to the street. Marinette seemed evidently stressed that she wouldn’t be able to shake him off so again, for her benefit, he inconspicuously played his ringtone and pretended someone had called him.

“Yes? Aha. Yes. Okay.”

He pretended to end the call. “I should probably head home,” he said. “They found out I’m sneaking out.”

“Yeah, yeah. Me too–I mean, my parents don’t like it if I’m out and there’s an Akuma, so… see ya!” she said.

Adrien had to laugh at the fact she didn’t even wait for him to say his goodbyes.

He turned to an indistinct alley to transform and vaulted in the direction of the Akuma.

[revengeoftheantichrist]

What Kind of Man

Warnings: recovering from injury, possessive behaviour    AO3  <<<Previous

Chapter 6: Haze

You woke to the sensation of someone running their fingers through your hair. Slowly opening your eyes; it must have been the afternoon. You don’t remember going to bed. You started to whimper; your leg hurt so much. Why did it hurt? What happened while you wandered the halls? “Shh shh my love, it’s alright, you’ll be better soon,” cooed the voice. You looked up, confused, why was Michael here? “M- Michael, why are you here a day early? Did something happen?” you questioned. As you tried to get up, the pain in your leg shot through you, bringing tears to your eyes. He gently pushed you back down, wiping the tears. “It’s Friday my dear,” he stated. “What do you mean its Friday? I went for a walk on Monday. And why does my leg hurt?” the questions just spilled out of you. Michael lay next to you, holding your hand in his, stroking it with his thumb. Just feeling the warmth again calmed you down a little. “I arrived on Wednesday,” he started. “Mrs Mead found you in the servants’ hallway on Monday night. You had collapsed from your fever and set fire to your night gown in the process. The fire was put out, but …” he hesitated. “your leg has been burnt a little.” A wave of nausea hit you. You finally looked down to your leg, it was wrapped in gauze. As you looked you felt the pain get worse, finally acknowledging your injury. “The shock and the fever combined had you out cold for a few days. You did wake occasionally, albeit you were a little delirious.” “H-How bad is it?” you asked. “second degree nearer to your foot, first up to your thigh. Mrs Mead had put you out very quickly. The physician is due to visit today to check the progress, to see if it’ll scar or not,” he explained. You started to cry. From the pain, from the fever, from the turn your fate seemed to have taken since you married this man. Why had the universe been so cruel to you? Who had you wronged? Had you done something in your past life and was this your punishment? He pulled you into his chest, warm arms enveloping you. He stroked his fingers through your forehead, letting you sob into him wholeheartedly. “I want to se my m-mother,” you cried. “Oh little dove, I was already on my way back before any letters could reach me. You know I would have brought her with me if I could, I’d give you the moon if u asked.” You cried until you tired out, but the pain was still unbearable. You just wanted to be held and to sleep. “No sleeping for you Mrs Langdon, you need to eat something before you put your head down again,” Michael stated. As if on que, Mrs Mead came in with a tray of food. A hearty soup and some bread, the same as before. “Dinner time seems to be the crying hour for you,” she joked. You pressed you face further into Michaels chest, embarrassed at her observation. She set the tray down and left, leaving just you and your husband. He rearranged the pillows so you could sit up comfortably and brought you meal over. As you reached for your soup, he slapped your hand away. “You’re sick, I’ll help you.” “Michael, my leg is burnt, not my hands,” you stated. “That is of no concern to me, now say ‘ahh’,” he replied, holding the spoon up to you. You hesitated and looked away before opening your mouth. You knew he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He fed you the rest of the meal; time flew as you asked about his trip, wanting to take your mind off the pain. //// You had fallen asleep again by the time the doctor had arrived. Woken by a cold press on your forehead, your fever had returned. “Good afternoon Lady Langdon, its nice to see you finally awake. I’m Dr Montgomery and it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he introduced. You could only nod in reply, the pain making you unable to speak. “I’ve already checked your leg; Medina has changed the dressing. I suggest bed rest until next week. The wound will take a few weeks to fully heal; you’re extremely lucky, the wound isn’t too deep so scarring will be minimal,” he finished. “Will it still hurt?” you asked. “Your pain should reduce in a few days, however your fever is making it feel worse, so I have prescribed some Laudanum. All I can suggest for your illness is rest, and that too shall pass.” “Why am I sick?” you asked again. Dr Montgomery sighed, “It isn’t uncommon in new brides. Especially moving from the south to the north. It’s a sort of homesickness. The faster you get accustomed to the temperature and new surroundings, the better.” Something deep in your gut told you that he was lying, your sickness was caused by something else. And what about your nightmares? What could explain those? A simple fever could not be the culprit. But you kept your mouth shut, this man was not to be trusted. He left you alone with Medina, and you drifted off again. //// The laudanum was helping with the pain, but the constant daze it kept you in frustrated you. Michael had moved his office into your room for now to keep an eye on you; you had tried to leave the room far too many times to leave you unattended. The rustling of paper and the scratch of the pen remined you that you were being watched. Despite that, you still tried to get out of bed. “How many times do you have to be put back in bed?” you heard from the other side of the room. His tone was stern. “I’m getting sick of staying in bed all day,” you slurred out. Michael sighed and walked over to you. He lifted you and carried you over to his desk, sitting down and placing you in his lap. “There, now you’re not in bed.” You couldn’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed. He adjusted you so the pair of you were comfortable. The scratching of the pen starting again. “what are you doing,” you asked. “I’m finalising plans for a trip.” “You’re leaving again?” “I’m taking you with me. Once your leg is healed enough, we’ll be going to Paris,” he smiled at you. Paris. How you hated the sound of that city. Your brother’s stories echoing through your head, the anger breaking through the haze of the medication. “I don’t want to go.” “Why not, it’ll be our honeymoon and it truly is a beautiful city, quite romantic at night.” You answered before you could stop yourself, “of course you’d know all about the city at night.” Michael stopped writing, putting his pen down and inhaling. “And what do you mean by that hmm?” “Nothing,” you replied, you could feel the rage building inside him. He grabbed your face, making you look up at him. “Answer me properly. What are you talking about?” “My brother spoke about your grand tour,” you mumbled. His nostrils flared and his grip on your jaw tightened enough to bruise. The drugs only allowed you the feel the pressure and not the pain that would have come with such a tight grip. You winced anyway. “Gabriel needs his tongue cut out it seems.” “Sho itsh all true then?” you tried to get out, he was still squishing your cheeks. He finally let go of your face. Pushing your hair from your face and stroking your jaw instead. “I am a changed man Y/N. I was a different person two years ago. I was young and unmarried. I’d be a fool to betray you in such a way,” he sighed. “I’d kill you if your ever did,” you smiled at him, the Laudanum seemed to have removed all filters, making you say what was on your mind. You lightly pecked his lips, settling into his chest for another nap. //// You had been given the clear for your bandages to come off, and your fever had gone. You decided to have a bath while you were alone for the first time in almost two weeks. The water was a little cooler than you would have liked it to be, but you didn’t want to agitate your burns. You tried to relax, thinking about the past few weeks of your life. You had been married almost a month now. There was a sense of foreboding before you walked down the aisle that day; every single event since has just made it worse. The nightmares, Michael’s volatile attitude, the painting and now being scarred for life; it all weighed heavy on you. You think that you might be driven insane, or maybe even killed. You didn’t know. would you even last the year? The painting. You had forgotten about it in all the commotion. It had scared you enough to almost die. Why was Michael’s mothers face painted over? Did he want to forget her? Your thoughts stopped in their tracks as the feeling of being watched overwhelmed you. Just like the first night you were here. You got out of the tub, carefully drying yourself off before heading to the dressing room. //// The dressing room was cold as usual, making goose bumps rise all over your skin. You caught a glimpse of your scar in the mirror, moving your robe aside to get a closer look. It started just above your ankle, all the way up to your outer hip. You let your robe hang loosely around your shoulders, as you untied it to inspect the top of the scar. The skin there was sensitive, it felt different to the healthy skin around it. It made you a little self-conscious. No one would ever see it, but you would always know it was there, a reminder of the fear you let overcome you, of your fragile state of mind. You felt weak, so far from the girl you used to be. Your reputation in the local area of your home was one of an intelligent and brave girl, a tongue so sharp that even the priest had banned you from attending church on occasions. But here you were now, pathetic, letting your dreams out of all things, control your actions. “it seems that Aphrodite herself has blessed me with her presence today.” You quickly went to retie your robe and cover your leg, but Michael stopped you before you could. He rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror. His hair was damp, and he donned a robe; he must have had a bath too. His pulled your robe aside, exposing you leg to him. You wished he would never see it. “Don’t you see what I see? Does the mirror not show you the form that occupies my mind?” he asked, as he trailed his fingers over your scar, you almost wept at the tenderness of his touch. He let go of your waist, moving in front of you before he knelt down. “Michael! What are you doing? Get up from there please!” you cried out. This man, who many saw as a god, had knelt before you. He looked at you with a hunger and devotion seen in the faces of the worshippers in temples of the ancient world. He paid no mind to your distress. Instead moving to kiss your scar. He started at your ankle, looking up at you as he made his way up, leaving no part untouched. He stopped briefly to pull the stool behind you, making you sit down. Without a word, he started working his way up to the inside of your thighs, alternating between kisses and little bites. His actions ignited a fire in your belly. Making you shift around to alleviate some of the tension you were feeling. He stopped and rested his cheek on your thigh, you ran your fingers through his now dry hair. “There’s a hunger in me that only you can satiate,” he whispered. He pried your thighs apart, looking directly at your wet folds. “You wouldn’t be cruel enough to let me starve, now would you?” He ran his fingers through your wetness, making you moan and grip his hair. He hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you towards his face. You had to hold the edge of the stool to stop yourself from falling back. He licked a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. The sensation was so foreign to you, but you wanted more. He licked and sucked on your lips and clit, like a man truly starved. You felt his groans vibrating through you, bringing you closer to the edge. “M- Michael, that feels so good,” you moaned out. You could feel him smirk as you gripped his hair tighter, lightly scratching his scalp in appreciation. He dove in further, his nose pressed against you as he fucked you with his tongue. He felt you begin to tighten around him and moved up to suck on your clit, he looked you in the eyes as he brought you over the edge, licking you through your aftershocks. Both of you were breathing heavily as he finally pulled away, looking up at you with your juices covering the bottom half of his face. He got up and pulled you into a hungry kiss, tasting yourself on him. “You taste divine.” You could see his hardness through his robe. You averted your gaze, “can I return the favour? “My my, my little dove has gotten bolder hmm?” moving to make eye contact with you. “Some other time, I do not want to agitate the burn and I need to be inside you.” He pulled you from the stool, sitting down, before seating you on his lap to face the mirror. “I need you to see what I see,” he said, as he untied his robe, bringing out his dick and running it over the wetness of your folds. You mewled and tried not to look in the mirror. “Look at us as I push into you,” he ordered, “look at your greedy pussy swallowing me whole.” He pushed into you, making you watch as he did so, the sight making you wetter than before. He bottomed out with a groan and sat still. He brought your hand over your stomach, pressing it down. “Can you feel me inside you? I’m so deep.” You pressed further and made him hiss. He gripped your hips, lifting you up and down, you matched your pace with his. The pair of you mesmerised by the sight of the image in the mirror, the sight of him splitting you in half. You turned to kiss him, your tongues dancing as you picked up the pace. Neither of you lasted long, you were already sensitive from before; he was (you hoped) pent up from all those days away. The coil finally snapped, you squeezed around him with cries of his name. He followed behind, painting your insides with his seed. He pulled out and you both watched as your mixed fluids seeped out of you. “Look at yourself, you must be a goddess,” Michael stated. You looked at your fucked-out form in the mirror, lips swollen from kisses, hair mussed, and skin covered in a sheen of sweat from the exertion. In the haze of pleasure, you could almost mistake yourself for a carnal version of Botticelli’s ‘Venus’. You smiled at the thought. “We’ll need to bathe again,” you pointed out, making you and Michael laugh. //// You had your second bath of the day together. Getting ready for the evening; dinner would be served in your room as you needed to sleep early; you left for Paris tomorrow. Michael had brushed and braided your hair, and you had done the same for him. As you waited for MRs Mead to bring your meal, Michael had brought out a box, one that you had recognised. “Your mother sent this for you, your embroidery seems to be quite well known in the area and she was surprised you forgot to pack your materials.” Michael handed you the box. It was your grandmothers, then your mothers, and now it was yours. How had you forgotten your most prized possession? “Thank you so much Michael,” you hugged him. “It’s a family heirloom,” you explained, opening the compartments. You floss and needles were just as you left them. Michael reclined next to you, watching you inspect the item. “I’m sure it’ll continue to be passed down generations of Langdons,” he said. You blushed at the thought of children, you hadn’t given it much thought before. “I’ll take you to the finest cloth merchants Paris has to offer to get more materials for your liking,” he smiled at you. “I’m sure Mrs Venebale will know some locally?” “Nonsense. Why go to Paris if not to take full advantage of what the city has to offer? We can also see what the new seasons fashions are.” You raised your eyebrow, “I see, this tip is for you to dress yourself isn’t it?” “Well my love, the wardrobe does not curate itself. Personal shopping trips are must in high society,” he winked at you. You laughed and shook your head, thinking about your next project, trying to calm your nerves for the trip.

Next>>>

[enamoured-x]

Can I get 13 on the random list with Miguel??

This was fun! Hope you enjoy! (gif not mine)

Miguel was a dangerous man. You knew that. Miguel was powerful. And you knew with that power, everyone either wanted to be his friend or wanted him dead. It was dangerous being close to Miguel, dangerous to have a connection with him. But you didn’t care. You fell in love despite the lurking dangers and you would be damned if you stopped yourself from something amazing just because you were scared. 

You were engaged to Miguel and that made you a target. That made you his number one weakness. He knew, you knew, and everyone else knew it. And despite his warnings to you that if you were to marry him, you would have to follow rules every once in a while to ensure your safety, you didn’t care. You knew the deal and you didn’t mind. Sure the constant body guards got old but you loved Miguel and if you had to give up some things then so be it.

But one thing you didn’t like was how you felt so defenseless. Sure you had guards but you knew anything could happen. What would happen if someone was able to get past the guards? You’d be helpless. It scared you more often than not. So you brought it up to Miguel one day while you were both having breakfast.

“So I was thinking…” You clicked your nails against your mug. Miguel looked up from his phone and smirked.

“Uh oh, that’s never good.” You poked his calf with your sock clad foot underneath the table. 

“Maybe I should learn self-defense.” You suggested. His smile left his face and his eyebrows furrowed. He even set his phone down.

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. Just in case.” You shrugged. His gaze was piercing as he sat there still confused.

“In case what? Do you know something I don’t?” He seemed worried now.

“No, no. Nothing like that. I just… you never know what could happen and it wouldn’t hurt to know how to defend myself if it came to that.” He shook his head at your words. 

“Mi amor, that won’t happen. We have guards, you don’t need to worry.” 

“And what happens if something happens to those guards? I’d feel safer knowing some basics.” 

“You’d feel safer?”

“Yeah. I just keep thinking about it and I think the only way to stop from worrying is to just learn how to defend myself.” You knew the guards were well equipped to handle whatever was thrown at them. You trusted Nestor with your life more than the other guards. You did trust all of them though. But it didn’t change the fact that you would be on edge when the thought would pop into your head, the idea that if someone took Nestor out, you’d have no way to help yourself. 

“You think it will help?” He asked and grabbed your hand. You squeezed it and nodded.

“Then I’ll teach you.” Now it was your turn to be confused. 

“You’ll teach me?” 

He smirked.

“I never mentioned I was a boxing instructor in college?” You were puzzled now and Miguel laughed this time. He boxed in college? Scratch that, he was an instructor?

“What? Why?” Miguel had been filthy rich his whole life. He didn’t have to work. Especially not in college. 

“It was a nice outlet. I went so often that one of the instructors offered to train me to start instructing. So I took him up on it. No one knew who I was and I liked it that way.” He shrugged and you sat there still baffled. 

“I helped with boxing but I instructed a lot of self defense classes too. Something to keep my mind off school and home.”

“You just keep on surprising me.” You told him. He laughed and leaned over to press a kiss to your lips. 

“So you want me to teach you?” He asked. You answered him with a nod. 

“I think this place is closed.” You said to Miguel as you both walked toward a small building. The sign on the front of it was turned off but you could still make out that it was a boxing gym.

“A friend of mine owns it, said I could use it.” He explained and turned the key, he pulled out of his pocket, into the lock. Nestor and three other men came along. Two of them came inside with us and the other two stayed outside. Miguel flicked on the lights. It was a fairly small space. A boxing ring was in the middle and on one side of it against the wall were lockers. The other side had punching bags lined up. 

“Come on.” He helped you onto the ring and he followed after you. It was different seeing Miguel in workout clothes. Usually when he went for his runs, you were still asleep. But damn were you missing out. The clothes were so simple. He had on a pair of sweats and a tight black shirt. But damn did it hug his biceps and his toned chest and stomach. You opted for a pair of athletic leggings and a cropped hoodie. 

“We need to stretch before we do anything.” He started showing you basic stretches that would benefit the muscles you were about to use. After a while you were both finally stretched out. 

“So, let’s start with the basics.” And so he started to show you. Putting you in holds, teaching you how to get out of them. Showing you how to block a hit. And showing you how to deliver a hit. You were at it for an hour before he made you put on boxing gloves. He put pads on his hands and held them up. Giving you instructions on how to punch and helping you find out where your strengths lied. 

“Be honest, how am I doing?” You asked him as you took a break. Beads of sweat were sliding down your neck and forehead. You worked out often but this was a whole different workout. 

“You hit like a girl.” He said. You scoffed. You put away the fact that you were worn out as you started to hit him on his chest with your gloved hands. He was too late in blocking you with the pads. 

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!” He yelled but started to laugh as he tried to get away from your attack. You were annoyed but you couldn’t help but smile a little. Finally Miguel took off the pads and grabbed you by your shoulders making you stop.

“I said be honest, not fucking sexist.” You huffed. He laughed again.

“It was a joke, corazón.” You rolled your eyes at his amused expression.

“Since when is sexism funny?” You pointed out. You weren’t actually upset or angry, you were just giving him a hard time.

“Dios mio. It’s not, it’s not.” He sighed and it was your turn to laugh.

“So how did I really do?” You asked him as he helped you take the gloves off. 

“Really good. You’re a fast learner.” You knew he wouldn’t say it just to please you. He was telling you the truth. You nodded your head. 

“I had a good teacher.” You said as you cupped his face with your wrapped hands. He smiled and wrapped his hands around your waist. 

“Maybe I can teach you a few more things while we’re here.” He said and you pulled him down to kiss him. The kiss was sweet and short but as you pulled away you tugged his bottom lip with your teeth. He groaned.

“Tell them to wait outside.” You said, referring to the guards. 

“Ernesto, Gabriel, go wait outside. We’ll be out in a little bit.” He didn’t take his eyes off you as he commanded them. Out of the corner of your eye you could tell they were making their way out. 

“Teach me something, Miguel.”

And teach you he did. 

[simpforsnape]

Sincerely Yours.

Severus Snape x OC/Reader

wordcount: 2349

Warnings: none, minor errors.

Pervious - Next

Chapter 6

Many days passed after the encounter between Severus and Anahstacia. The conversations between the two were always short. Since the duel, Anah kept her promise to him. She bothered the hell out of him, but only to an extent.

Severus on the other hand loathed her since then. Every time he'd turn the corner there she was. At first, it was irking, until he realized how much he'd enjoyed it.

Anah stood in front of her magical mirror as she finished dressing for the day. It was the weekend, and classes weren't in session. So that meant a free day for the students, but for Anah, she had a lot of work to do. When she glanced at the mirror once again her appearance remained the same. She let out a loud sigh leaving her chambers to head to her classroom.

On the walk to the Transfiguration classroom, She encountered a few students. Of course, being the liked teacher she is, she greeted them all. Before reaching the room she noticed Harry standing at her door. He looked lost.

She approached him with her eyebrow shrugging in the process.

“Harry?” Anah questioned as the teenage boy quickly turned to greet her.

”Professor V..” he replied calmly.

“What can I do for you darling?” She asked while entering the classroom ushering him to come inside. He followed after her while the door remained open. She helped herself to her desk now eyeing the young boy who only stood there in front of her. From the looks of it, he seemed uneasy. Like he'd seen a ghost or something. Anah motioned him to sit. Her hands were rested on her lap, now waiting for him to speak.

"I've come to check on you.." He confessed with a serious face. Anah only smirked. "Check on me? Why is that love?"

Harry turned his head before rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, there's a rumor about you and Professor Snape.. and since you're my favorite teacher... I just cannot understand why you would take a liking to that man.."

His words were clear to Anah. She merely shrugged her shoulders. She grabbed the large stack of papers that were on the desk putting them in the center. "I've told you before Harry, Severus and I go back. Back before you were born.." She made her remark not bothering to look up at him. He got the feeling that the subject needed to be changed.

Instead, he talked about the upcoming Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. She was glad to interject. The conversation lasted for nearly an hour and the bond between the two only strengthened.

"You know, I haven't seen you with your friends. Hermione and Ron? Where are they?" She asked taking a moment to give her hand a rest from her grading. While Harry was there why not give him something to do by helping her? He only sighed while quill in his hand continued to move.

"They're on the field trip to Hogsmeade..." Anah looked up, resting back in the large chair. "You didn't have a signed formed?"

He shook his head giving her the now graded forms.

"I wouldn't stress it darling, think of it as a break from everyone else, You know?" She smiled trying to ease the tension.

"Professor V!" called a random student as they rushed into the classroom.

Anah's head shot up as she saw them.

"Yes? What is it?"

"There's a fight happening in the Clocktower courtyard!" The student endorsed, fleeing in a flash.

Not a second wasted, Anah along with Harry rushed to the courtyard.

She sped down the halls of Hogwarts arriving soon after. There was a small crowd that was formed. The students were surrounding two girls who had seemed to be Slytherins. “Break it up, ladies!” Anah announced quickly moving in between the two.

”You filthy bitch! You stay away from my Gabriel!-“

”Enough!” Anah’s voice overpowered the two students. She made the two back away from each other trying to cease the tension. Turns out the fight was over a boy, typical.

“For the lack of respect and clear violence.. 20 points will be taken from Slytherin. Now both of you go.” One of the girls still had the ambition to fight. With the girls back turned along with Anah’s, the student pulled out her wand ready to cast a spell.

”Everte Statum!”

Sadly the wand was pointed at the wrong person. The next thing the small crowd saw was Professors V’s body being flipped in the air. She fell back down hitting her head in the process. Gasps echoed throughout the yard after witnessing what transpired.

”What did you just do!?” Harry yelled rushing over to the Professor to awake her. There was no response. She was knocked out cold.

“What’s going on here?” All attention went to the Headmaster, Dumbledore who was accompanied by Professor McGonagall and of course Professor Snape. There was a silence that filled amongst the teachers as their eyes soon fell upon Anah.

“My Goodness!” McGonagall expressed while she rushed over to the young witch.

Severus didn’t let his emotions show on his face, but he was bothered by Anah’s well being. But why? He walked over to his unconscious associate before reaching down to check her pulse.

”She has a pulse.” He reported to the Headmaster.

”Well, What happened?! Explain yourselves!” uttered the Headmaster as he eyed the two young Slytherin girls, Jenna and Rachel.

”It was an accident! She was in the way!” Jenna shouted out of pure anger still on about the whole incident.

”She may have been in the way, Though it is clearly stated in the rules about using spells on teachers..” Dumbledore spoke hastily towards the young students. He then turned to Severus who was still looking down at Anah.

“Severus, since the two are under your house. They are your responsibility. As for the rest of you, off you go.” All students except for the two that caused the whole occurrence left. Harry took notice of Snapes actions towards Anah. The rumors had to have been true now.

And like that the students were gone.

”We must take her to Madame Pomfrey this instant!” McGonagall expressed as Severus turned to look at the two students who still stood there. His expression was darker than usual. The young Slytherins were fully aware of this.

”I will deal with both of you later.” His tone was cold and harsh. It was hard to read his face at times, but from the looks of it, he was angry and... worried? They were sent on their way only in horror to await their punishment.

The old Wizard turned his head. He saw Severus hovering over the professor's body.

”Severus-” The Headmaster uttered.

”I will take her to Madame Pomfrey.” He interrupted Dumbledore. His gestures were slow. He reached to grab Anah picking her up slowly as he held her in his arms. Her neck was supported by his hand as he did his best not to let it dangle. Her body was close to him as he peered down at the woman whom he thought he used to love. She wasn't light like a feather, but she was still easy to carry.

The teachers then headed off to the hospital wing.

The walk to the wing was relatively quick.

Once they arrived, she was placed on the nearest bed and was quickly attended to.

”We shall leave you to it Madame Pomfrey.” Dumbledore announced as he turned to look at the other two professors. The students would be arriving from Hogsmeade by now. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall were about to leave until they noticed Severus still standing by the bed Anahtacia was placed on.

”Coming Severus?” Asked the obsolete wizard. Severus didn't turn to look at him. His eyes were still on her.

”I will stay here. Until she awakes..” His answer was thorough. A smiled peered on the Elder Wizard as he left along with McGonagall.

Madame Pomfrey adjusted Anah’s head, glancing over at the Professor in all black.

”Is she.. alright?..”

”She will be fine, She’s just merely asleep. I say give her a few hours and she will wake.” The nurse addressed the comment to the man as she then dismissed herself from him, going about her business to tending to the others.

Severus couldn't find the words he needed to express how he felt. Why was he behaving like this? Especially towards her? Did he still... Love her? No, who would love a man like him? She would and did. His eyes wandered down at the woman until they were locked on her face. Severus was never the man to show is Emotions but around her.. He was able to put his guard down, be himself. Every time he'd laid eyes on the woman, his heart would plunge. Maybe he still yearned for her.

Perhaps so.

His thoughts carried on as he went off to find a potion that would wake her up faster. Boy did he already miss her pestering voice..

Not too many hours passed, Anah was awake and fine. Madame Pomfrey told her about the whole Severus situation. It surprised her, out of all people it would be him. She also mentioned the potion he made for her, allowing her to wake up faster. Again, she was stunned by his kind gestures. It was always rare for him to just whip up a potion for anyone.

When Anah saw the time, it was supper and everyone must have been at the Great Hall. She collected herself before wandering back to her chambers. There was a headache that ached in the back of her head. It was quite bothersome. When she arrived at the room she noticed a small bottle that was set against the door.

Another potion.

There was a small note that was attached to it.

”Drink this before bed. It will help.”

A smiled peered on her face as she noticed the neat but yet sluggish handwriting. Him again.

”Maybe I should keep this up?” She mumbled to herself. She did enjoy his attention after all.

The liquid was quickly consumed. It had a horrid after taste. She merely gaged. But she knew she could trust Severus when it came to potions.

Once she was finally inside Anah changed into a fresh pair of clothes. After all, she did have a long day... Sleeping at least. While dressing, her eyes focused on a picture that was settled on her nightstand. It was of a little girl, she looked about nineish ten. She had curly long black hair, that was propped up into two pigtails. She had beautiful brown eyes. In the picture, she was smiling, and about two of the child's teeth was missing. Yet her smile, just looking at it made Anah’s day.

Her smile faded as a sigh escaped from her lips. If only she was given a chance to finally meet her.

Anah left her chambers and headed straight to the Grand Hall. Surly she was missed.

When she arrived she came from the back that led straight to the high table. She made her way to her seat swiftly playing everything off. She was greeted by a few teachers who've noticed her absence. When she glanced down the table, she realized that Remus was nowhere to be found. Was it a full moon?

She sat back into her chair giving off a gentle sigh.

”Is something.. Bothering you?..” voiced Severus who was sitting next to her. He was eating at a slow pace.

”Oh no, It was just a long day. That's all..” She replied taking a sip of her freshly poured drink.

”You've slept the majority of it.” He shot back causing her to smirk.

”That wasn't my fault you see... Two girls from your house caused this..”

”You know never to jump in the middle of a fight Anah.” His tone was the same. She shrugged her shoulders taking yet another sip of the drink.

”Anyways, I wanted to say.. Thank you. For the potions you've made for me.”

He didn't look at her.

”Don’t mention it..”

She smiled while setting the drink down.

"Did you miss me at least?"

He shuddered at the comment before turning to give her a look.

That should have answered her question. He did.

The evening carried on as usual. The students were all dismissed to their dormitories afterwards. All teachers were patrolling until everyone was in their respected places.

Anah stood near the end of the Ravenclaws steps, watching as her house marched up the million staircases.

Before the last student was able to disappear an intercom came on. Dumbledores voice then filled the halls of Hogwarts.

”All student and staff are required to rejoin Great Hall Immediately.” His tone was the same but from the sounds of it. This must have been urgent.

Anah looks up to see the changed students now rushing down the enteral stairs in pure panic.

”Professor V!? What’s going on?!” A random student shouted out having her full attention.

”I have the slightest idea, now please hurry children. Something must have happened”

Once every Ravenclaw student was front and center in front of Anah, she led them all to the Great Hall.

On the walk there The Professor noticed everything that was happening. Hogwarts was going on lockdown.

All students arrived shortly after. Dumbledore explained that Sirius Black was in Hogwarts. No one is sure how he was able to get in.

”All students will stay in the Great Hall until the Castle is fully searched. Severus, Flich, Minerva and Anahstacia. I want the grounds of Hogwarts searched thoroughly. I will stay here and watch over the children until then.”

That was only the first wave of staff.

Anah agreed on searching the west wing since the Ravenclaws house was there.

She left the Great Hall withdrawing her wand along the way.

Tonight was going to be a long night after all.

[mari-onberry]

Win-Win

For the Kagami Zine! @kagamizine​

This was a collab with @landturtlealyce’s beautiful drawing

Also on Ao3

During fencing practice, Adrien could tell that Kagami was nervous. She wasn’t as quick on her feet as usual, and she seemed distracted by something. He knew her identity as Ryuko, and she knew his identity as Chat Noir, so he was sure there wasn’t much to be worried about on that front. Also, she wasn’t the type to let that sort of thing distract her. So, he approached her during break. 

“Kagami, are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself today.” Despite them dropping their romantic feelings for each other a while ago when Kagami started dating Marinette, he still worried about her. He wanted her to know that he was there for her, no matter what it was she was going through. 

She was a little startled at the question, since she had been stuck in her own head for so long. “I’m okay, it’s just family problems, I don’t want to inconvenience you with that.”

Adrien would’ve been a little hurt by that sentiment if he wasn’t so worried about her. “Kagami, you can talk to me about anything. And I’m probably the one person who can sympathize with you about family stuff.” 

She gave in, realizing it would be better to tell him. She needed to talk to someone about it. “My mother wants me to go to that charity gala this weekend. And I’m fine with going, but she expects me to bring along a romantic partner. I would bring Marinette, but…” she didn’t finish her sentence, already a little caught up in her own head again.

“Bring me.” Adrien suggested almost immediately. “I know we aren’t dating, but we can pretend to be to get your mother off your back about it. Plus, it would probably make my father happy as well. Win-win.” He smiled reassuringly at her, hoping his suggestion would be a viable solution.

She pondered it for a moment, seemingly thinking through possible outcomes. “Okay,” she said reluctantly, then, “Yeah, that sounds good,” as she realized that it was her best choice right now. It even seemed like a fun idea, since it would be a good excuse to spend time with him. Plus, the Agreste family was invited to the gala as well, so he would be there anyway.

So, they planned it out, and Kagami was planning on telling her mom about it after practice when her mom picked her up. But once practice was over, they walked out together to see their parents talking. Gabriel had chosen this of all days to pick his son up from practice, which was a rare occurrence. “Father!” Adrien said, feigning excitement, a little worried. 

“Son. How was practice?” 

“It was fine,” Adrien answered, too preoccupied to elaborate. He started to make his way to the car before either of their parents could question them on their relationship. He didn’t want to lie, but he was willing to do it for Kagami’s sake. He just didn’t want to mess up their plans to tell their parents individually, since that seemed like the best way to not make that big of a deal out of it. If their story was too outlandish, their parents might get their hopes up about them getting married one day. Unfortunately, Gabriel seemed intent on being the one to mess up their plans. 

“So, Adrien, have you decided who you’re going to bring to the gala?” Gabriel asked before Adrien could escape to the car. Kagami looked at Adrien, realizing he was being pressured into a relationship, just like she was. 

Adrien smiled, seemingly genuine this time, and answered, “Yep!” More excitedly than was needed. “I’m going with Kagami.”

He bought into the lie, probably because he wanted it to be true, and even though their original plans were messed up, this way seemed to have a similar outcome. Then, Tomoe said something that made Kagami’s heart drop. 

“Why don’t you bring that Dupain-Cheng girl along with you, too? I heard her fashion designs have been getting popular lately. It’d be good publicity for her,” she asked them.

Adrien almost laughed from the irony, but answered, “I’ll ask her if she’s available.” He didn’t want to complicate the situation even further, so he thought the best thing to do would be to save that for later. 

They went their separate ways, and before Adrien got in the car, he shrugged at Kagami to say, “I’m sorry.”

Later that night, Kagami was able to call Marinette. Parental controls had been a difficult obstacle, but Marinette found a bunch of different ways to bypass them through Nino, and it had been a lifesaver. She needed to explain what exactly was going on, since even though Marinette was hopefully willing to go along with it, she was more than likely confused. “Marinette?” She asked as quietly as she could, since her mother was asleep in the other room.

“Kagami!” Marinette answered, sounding ecstatic to get a call from her girlfriend. “I was hoping you’d call. The party sounds fun, I can’t wait!” From her words, it became obvious that Adrien had already called her and told her about the gala.

Kagami decided she needed to clear things up as soon as possible. “I’m going to have to pretend to date Adrien.”

“What?” Marinette asked. That came out of nowhere. 

“I asked Adrien to pretend to be my boyfriend while at the gala.” Kagami started, trying to explain her thought process. “I thought it would be easier for him to be my plus one, since both our parents want us to be married, but I didn’t think it would turn out like this. I’m sorry.” 

Marinette let the information sink in. “Alright. Well, I know my family life is much different from yours, but we could’ve just gone as friends. I’m fine with Adrien being there, though, especially if it’ll help get your parents off your backs for a while. Thanks for telling me.”

Kagami blushed– she actually had a reason she didn’t suggest going as friends. “I didn’t think I would be able to pretend to be just friends with you anymore.”

Marinette couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be dating Kagami. She knew that even if they would have had trouble pretending to be friends, most people probably wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference; they weren’t much for PDA after all. “Alright, I guess I can forgive you,” she teased. “Well, hopefully it won’t be too bad with Adrien there.” 

Kagami agreed and they stayed silent on the phone together for a while, not wanting to hang up. 

“Hey Kagami?”

“Yeah?” Kagami prompted her girlfriend to continue. Her eyes were closed and she had fully expected to fall asleep while on the call. 

“Do you still have feelings for Adrien?”

That was a tough question. Even after they started dating, they were both pretty open with the fact that they used to have feelings for Adrien. Key words: used to. It was just expected that both of them dropped those feelings once they started dating. In reality, that wasn’t as easy as it sounded. 

When Kagami didn’t answer, Marinette elaborated. “I mean, you did go to him first to ask him to pretend to date you. I know you two are friends, but there were other options,” she explained, then realized why Kagami might be having a hard time answering. “You can tell me, Kagami. We promised to be open about these things. I won’t be mad.” That was a guarantee, but Kagami still felt her heart drop when she thought of the consequences if she said ‘yes’. 

“I might. I’m not sure.” 

It was rare for Kagami to admit to not being sure about something. “Okay. That’s fine. Maybe pretending to date him will be a good opportunity, then.” 

Kagami noticed that Marinette seemed awfully fine with her girlfriend having feelings for another person, and Kagami appreciated it, but in this case, she couldn’t help but read into it. Marinette had always been in love with Adrien, and even if she had buried her feelings when she got together with Kagami, it was hard to drop that kind of feeling just like that. She didn’t say anything, though, since the whole situation was starting to stress her out. And maybe Marinette was right; maybe the fake dating thing would help clear things up.

Soon, it was the weekend, and all three of them met up in front of Adrien’s place to go to the party. Gabriel didn’t like having people at his house, but he had suggested Marinette come, so he thought it would only be polite to give them a ride.

Kagami’s breath hitched once she saw her girlfriend dressed up. Marinette didn’t have time to prepare a new dress for this particular event, so she wore one that she designed a couple months ago. Kagami had seen her in a similar dress before, but she never got used to how pretty she looked all dressed up. 

They drove to the gala in near silence, all three of them in the back while Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, and their bodyguard in the driver’s seat. Kagami found it sort of awkward stuck between her girlfriend and the boy who was pretending to be her boyfriend, but she was determined to make the most of it. Gabriel wasn’t looking back at them, anyway, so she took hold of Marinette’s hand, sliding her own hand against Marinette’s to rest it where it always fit perfectly, then set her other hand on top of Adrien’s. His hand was surprisingly soft, and he jumped when he felt Kagami touch him, but he didn’t make any effort to complain or move his hand. 

Once they got there, Kagami was actually buzzing with excitement, though she didn’t show it. Earlier, sometime after her call with Marinette, she had decided that if she had to be here with her girlfriend, she wasn’t going to be forced to pretend they were only friends. She didn’t owe anyone that. Plus, it wouldn’t be obvious unless they kissed in front of everyone. Her only problem was Adrien, and although she knew she didn’t owe it to anyone to pretend to date a boy, she actually quite liked the pretending. Adrien seemed to like it, too. So, she walked into the building with Marinette and Adrien on either side of her, arm-in-arm with both of them. 

Gabriel didn’t seem to care– Kagami was convinced he was there just to impress potential investors– and it didn’t seem like anyone else there cared either. So, they all embraced it. They sat down at a table that was draped with a fancy white tablecloth, and soon Adrien and Kagami’s parents were nowhere to be seen (no doubt busy with work) so they were no longer supervised. 

“You look nice.” Adrien said, wanting to start up conversation, but not knowing how. Then, to clarify, he added, “Both of you.”

Marinette replied, “Thanks, you too,” to be polite, but she wasn’t wrong. Adrien looked good in just about anything, so he couldn’t go wrong in a suit. 

Kagami’s reply to Adrien’s compliment was quite different. “She does, doesn’t she?” And pressed a kiss to the back of Marinette’s hand, much too intimately to be platonic. 

“Kagami!” Adrien scolded, “Aren’t we supposed to be the ones dating?”

Kagami shrugged. “No one’s looking. Besides,” she turned to look at Marinette, “I told you I wouldn’t be able to pretend to just be friends with you.” Marinette blushed, but Adrien blushed even harder. 

Marinette didn’t mind. “I do like this better than having to sit around while your parents deal with business deals.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Come on, it’s not that boring. I’ve been to a lot of these things, and usually the entertainment and hors d'oeuvres make it worthwhile.” He looked around the room, and although it was full of old, rich people, there were at least plates full of tarts, pâté and other small dishes. 

Kagami shook her head, admiring his optimism, but finding it a little naive. “I’m glad you’re able to look on the bright side of things, Adrien, but I’d much rather be doing pretty much anything else right now.” That wasn’t true; she did enjoy being with them, but she would rather they were at a movie, or a concert, or fencing. “We need to do more stuff together, the three of us.” If only their parents would let them. She couldn’t wait until she was old enough to move out. 

“Let’s make the most of our time together now,” Marinette said, already coming up with plans in her head. If only they could be alone, without a hundred people around them. “Do you think your parents would notice if we went missing for a while?”

Adrien was worried about the proposition, since he wasn’t one to risk getting caught misbehaving by his dad, but it wasn’t as if Gabriel cared about him in that particular moment. 

Kagami was fine with disobeying a little if it meant spending this limited amount of time together. “I’m fine with taking that risk,” Kagami answered, and almost instantaneously, Marinette took her by the hand and dragged her into the hallway, where they could hopefully escape unnoticed. Kagami took hold of Adrien’s hand, and he trailed close behind them.

Just because he was fine with the decision, didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about the consequences. “Where are we going?” 

“Relax, Adrien, it’s not like this is the first time we’ve all snuck out, just the first time without a city to save.”

That was enough to convince him. He followed along without another protest after that; after all, Chat Noir wouldn’t worry about this sort of thing. Maybe for the night he could pretend to be his daring superhero counterpart, just without the responsibilities. 

Marinette led them out the back entrance and they were finally alone. They weren’t quite at their destination yet, though, and she finally revealed her plan. “I think I saw an ice cream shop on the way here, only about a block away.” They would have to hurry there and back to minimize the risk of their absence being noticed, but they decided it was worth it. 

Marinette was right, the walk to the ice cream shop was short, but that didn’t mean it was uneventful. Adrien, intent on channeling his Chat Noir persona, felt a bit more confident. But, being the dense and clumsy person that he is, Adrien was still not the best at expressing his feelings. That sort of thing certainly wasn’t as easy when he wasn’t wearing a mask. 

“So, Kagami, now that we’re pretending to date, does that mean I get a kiss?” He teased, knowing it was far-fetched to ask such a thing.

Kagami didn’t see it that way. “Well, we don’t really have to pretend right now, but I wouldn’t mind a kiss.” She liked seeing him flustered, and she especially enjoyed the way Marinette reacted. It was as if she liked her girlfriend flirting with her (supposedly) former crush, despite her better judgement. “My lips are for one girl only,” she said, and Adrien was almost relieved that she had reinforced his suspicions that they were exclusive. As much as he was attracted to the two girls, it was too complicated for him to think about dating them both. Then Kagami added, “But that doesn’t mean there’s no room for a boy,” and that made Adrien look like he was close to collapsing from embarrassment. 

Once they got to the shop, they had decided to share a cup with three scoops: one blackberry, one orange, and one peppermint. It was an odd combination, but it was tasty, and Kagami was glad that they were actually trying out the combination of flavors André had assigned them, even if it wasn’t something they’d order again.

After a half an hour of being absent from the party, they decided they had been gone long enough and started to head back. It was getting dark now, and sunset served as a nice view for their walk back. They didn’t look forward to the festivities that now seemed to pale in comparison to their “friend” date, but it was almost bearable now that they had gotten a half an hour to themselves. 

“Come on, we have a party to get back to,” Kagami said once they got to the back entrance, taking hold of Adrien’s hand and leading him back into the building as he tried to hide the blush on his face. For some reason, holding hands with her felt a lot more intimate than it did earlier in the day. 

That night, maybe she would call Adrien as well as Marinette, and maybe they would talk everything through, or maybe they’d laugh it off as a one-time thing. Maybe a year from now, things wouldn’t seem so simple between them. Kagami decided she could deal with that later. For now, she could just enjoy the way Adrien’s hand clammed up against hers when she winked at him, and savor the quick glances Marinette would give her when she knew no one was looking.

[feminaexlux]

Black Cats are Some Kind of Luck

Oh god this might just be a little bit of a crack fic but I had way too much fun writing this.

Rated M, probably? Iunno. LukaNoire!

∴

In most of the mornings Luka had in his life after toddlerhood he woke up alone in his bed. When Juleka was younger, maybe a toddler herself, she had dragged him out of his bed to hide under a blanket on the floor when she had nightmares. Anarka would find her babies in a tangled nest, since sleeping on the floor meant finding no monsters under the bed to very young imaginative minds.

This morning he woke up with… someone else snuggled next to him. Someone who looked a lot like Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He hadn't gone to sleep that way. Pretty sure of that. He was and had been sober.

He had no idea what happened.

Gently he pried himself away from her, extricating himself carefully from her grasp. He took a quick look around his room and yep, this was his room in his flat that he shared with his best friend. His guitars were hung up against the walls, his music sheet paper was on his desk in random piles, his hoodie was thrown over his desk covering his laptop.

But it was Marinette. In his bed. Oh god, he thought, HOW was she here? Somewhere deep down inside of him he didn't find the idea of him waking up next to her unwelcome but… there was a natural progression to things. Sure, he'd been in love with her for years but she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng the up-and-coming fashion star and personal designer for Jagged Stone. He was just Luka. He hadn't ever given himself even the slimmest of chances when she was Marinette and she had her eyes on Adrien Agreste, the supermodel and son of Gabriel, who ran the most prominent design house in France. She was probably 2 standard deviations out of his league.

"Shit," he whispered to no one in particular. He checked himself over and double checked that he was sober and dressed (oh god we didn't… did we?). She was wearing her pajamas and it didn't look like they did anything so that wasn't going to cause an immediate meltdown. He should probably wake her up and… figure out what happened. He knelt by the edge of the bed and gently shook her by the shoulder. "Hey. Marinette?"

"Mnnng," she groaned, eyebrows furrowing as she frowned. She grabbed at his blankets and pulled them in toward her, then started opening her eyes. "Hi," she said, lazily smiling up at him. She must still have been waking up, but if she smiled like that to whoever she woke up next to he'd happily have them both go back to sleep just so they'd wake up together again.

"Do you know where you are?" He asked. Maybe there'd been an akuma attack and she got teleported here? He wasn't sure. "You're in my room. Do you remember how you got here?"

"Yeah," she yawned. "I cam--" Her eyes shot wide open mid-word and she slapped her hands over her mouth. "Th-there was an akuma!"

∴

Oh god, she almost said she came here on purpose, and not because she'd been high as a kite on whatever kitty hormones had coursed through her veins while she was Lady Noire.

Well, she couldn't blame it just on the kitty hormones. Regular hormones were bad enough. And if she was even more honest with herself she had wanted to wake up next to Luka Couffaine, the gentleman rocker, ever since she found herself thinking about blues more than greens, distressed more than clean and crisp, shy but warm laughter more than confused smiles.

So basically for a couple of years now.

She should have seen it coming. When she and Mister Bug decided to swap permanently she'd been informed by Plagg that should she choose it, she'd be able to tap into some latent powers with the side effect of being more like the animal the Miraculous represented. She didn't think it'd be a problem so she chose it. Cats just slept all the time. If she didn't have to worry about being Ladybug anymore she could afford more sleep, right?

What she didn't really account for (and she should have after a facepalm worthy moment where she realized Plagg had been teasing it all along) was the heat. Or whatever it was that made her way more… touch-oriented, and way less inhibited than usual.

She'd been alright with napping more often. She'd been alright about unconsciously licking her hands clean. It was convenient that she was the daughter of bakers and helped out making pastries. She was practically covered in flour and sugar all the time anyway (regardless, she always washed her hands after). She didn't have a tail to swish around whenever she was annoyed so nothing about her was more cat-like than usual. Though she was annoyed more often now that she thought about it.

The cat-ness also severely affected her sense of smell.

She wasn't alright with how good some people smelled, especially near her period. When she and Kagami were having a juice date Marinette legitimately drooled at how vibrantly citrusy the fencer was. Alya, Nino, and most of Kitty Section smelled pleasant. Her parents smelled… well, familiar, which was to be expected. Adrien also smelled familiar, which was unexpected.

Luka was the worst. She couldn't place the scent but she kept thinking of blueberries, sea salt, chocolate, ocean waves lapping at her feet, the warmth of a crackling bonfire with the cooling sea breeze, and how badly she wanted to curl herself around him and take in his everything. It wasn't just near her period. It was all the time.

It seemed like after the late-night/early-morning akuma attack she had nearly gone ahead and wrapped herself around him in her kitty hormone addled brain. God, he had smelled so good and her brain had still been fuzzy at the edges when he woke her up, but she had quickly gotten to her senses after he had looked a little panicked and she had noticed that she was detransformed.

She couldn't blame him for being panicked. If the situation was reversed she might have screamed and tossed him across the Seine.

"I'm… I'm so sorry, Luka," she said in her own panic. She looked off to the side and nervously played with the rose-gold ring on her right hand, wondering where Plagg had gone. She looked back at Luka when he blew out a relieved sigh.

"Hey, it was the akuma," he laughed. "You alright? Not hurt anywhere?"

"I'm alright, yeah," she answered, then suddenly frowned. Plagg, that little shit, what the hell was he doing? She found him laying on top of Luka's head, smiling a wide Cheshire cat smile.

"I don't know why the miraculous ladybugs didn't drop you off back home," Luka said, sounding like he was talking more to himself than to her. "Maybe it works differently for Mister Bug?"

Marinette could definitely fudge it and say that the Miraculous Ladybugs kinda… skipped her. "Haha, maybe I was too far from them?" Marinette forced a laugh.

Luka shrugged. "Still, I'm guessing you'd wanna go back home, right?"

Hmm, not really. And well, her ride back home was currently lounging in Luka's hair. She reached out a hand to try to catch Plagg but the kwami slipped out of her grasp. She ended up just… petting Luka. "Oh! S-sorry you had something in your hair," she said quickly, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

"Thanks?" He said, a deep blush rising up to his cheeks. He swept his hair back after Marinette reluctantly drew back her hand and for a long moment Marinette just stared. The younger Couffaines had a mild tendency to hide behind brightly colored bangs when they were feeling shy, but Luka had as much unconventional beauty packed in his features as Juleka did.

And Juleka could very well be a supermodel if she wanted.

"I'll give you a ride back on my bike. Is that alright?" He asked as his blush faded. He still looked a little nervous with his hand on the back of his neck.

"I'd love a ride," she said absently, another yawn overtaking her. Ugh, his bed was so warm and smelled so nice and she would most definitely like to ride him--ride with him, WITH him, WITH him. Yeah, she should go home now before she ruined everything.

At least, that had been the plan. They had gone down to the garage and chatted lightly after getting geared up one after the other, both more than thankful that Luka's roommate was dead asleep in the other room. The ride was smooth and relatively short so she hadn't been thinking about how she wanted to feel him under her the whole time, no, not at all. He parked nearby as her housing complex had like, no available spaces, and walked the block and a half to her apartment with her so she could get out of the borrowed gear without going barefoot in her pajamas.

As he was heading out with the spare gear over his arms, she stopped him. "Thanks for getting me home and… for everything. I'm… I'm glad I didn't end up anywhere else," Marinette said with a shy smile. She got up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

"No problem," he said slowly, mostly surprised with a blush creeping over his face. "See you later?"

She had a giant yawn escape her after she closed the door and started walking back to her bedroom. Plagg zipped out of her pajama pants pocket to float in front of her. "Yanno you kissed him on the mouth, right?" he snickered.

∴

Luka slowly leaned forward and rested his head against her door. Had she just kissed him? Had she just kissed him and he said "see you later" like a dumbass? He tried to stifle a groan and pressed his head harder into the door when the door swung open away from him with surprising speed. Three things worked against him as he tried to recover from stumbling forward: being caught off guard, his arms already carrying stuff that made him unbalanced, and gravity.

Good thing Marinette was there to break his fall. The bad thing was Marinette had some really amazing reflexes and honed self-defense skills because she guided his momentum into throwing him onto the floor, landing him on his back. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands after realizing what she had done. "Oh my god! Luka are you okay?!"

"Don't know," he said, blinking up at the ceiling. He'd been dressed for the slide but definitely felt hit by a truck after she'd kissed him. "Probably," he said after a beat. "Was that an accident?"

"… Yeah, I don't usually throw you to the ground?" Marinette replied, confused.

"No, you kissed me."

She made a couple of noises that sounded like abortive starts at sentences. "I… guess I don't usually do that either," she ultimately sighed, pressing one delicate hand to her very red cheeks. She knelt down next to him and brushed his hair away from his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'll be okay if you kiss me again," he said, thinking he'd be able to get away with ha, just kidding if she wasn't into it but desperately hoping she would be. Something in her expression shifted and he almost felt his soul leave his body. He started propping himself up by his hands looking for the gear that got flung aside when he was pulled up the rest of the way to sitting by his jacket collar.

He got hit by another metaphorical truck. She pressed her lips to his, which was pretty great by itself but then it got more and intense and open and she unbuttoned his collar and zipped down his jacket. The temperature of the room instantly got stifling and he was sure part of his brain melted.

She pulled back a bit and they got a few breaths of air. He should have used that time to ask Can this be an every day thing but then she licked her lips and all coherent thoughts evaporated. He didn't notice that she successfully tugged his jacket off. Didn't feel it when he got pushed back down. Did notice when she sat on his lap and leaned forward to kiss him hard over and over again. He only heard the faintest buzz of his phone that had almost been drowned out by her tiny, breathy moans, and that had only sunk in and registered after she sat back up and growled at it.

She picked it up and nearly threw it against her couch except she caught a glimpse of something and said "Goddamn it."

It wasn't his finest moment. "Huh?"

"Akuma. Sorry, Luka!" She took his hands off of her ass and jumped up. Somehow she hauled him up to his feet and pushed him out the still opened door, pressing his jacket and phone into his hands. "I'll get the rest of the stuff to you later okay? I'm so sorry!"

"Wait. Hold on, what--" She cut him off by kissing him again, which was a surprisingly effective tactic.

"I'll meet you for lunch, but for now I gotta g--hide! Be safe! Sorry!" Then the door slammed shut.

The phone buzzed in his hand and he took a look at the notifications. They were all from his roommate, the bastard.

Just now Di © K: Hope ur ok where ever the fuck u r

One minute ago Di © K: Shit akuma

Two minutes ago Di © K: Oi whered u go

Three minutes ago Di © K: ? Di © K: Lulu Di © K: Heeeeey Di © K: Hey

… Didn't the whole thing with akumas mean he should have stayed indoors? With her?

He wasn't sure he could sit on his bike comfortably for the next little while anyway.

∴

Mister Bug swore almost every other akuma was some damned mind-control wizard. Of course it had to be one of those today, and of course today Lady Noire was especially pissed off so she was slightly more reckless than usual. Which was saying something, as Mister Bug had seen her go on a rampage not 8 hours ago and that had been one of the quickest akuma fights he'd ever seen. Seen and not participated in, as he'd been left nothing but cleanup.

Heatstroke or whatever had literally thrown the akumatized object at Lady Noire's feet after she had beaten and clawed the shit out of him. He was cowering in the relative security of a dumpster bin when Mister Bug found him.

She must have really loved her sleep. It'd been maybe 2am?

This latest akuma called herself the Directator. She'd been managing a movie set and of course something had gone wrong early in the day. So Hawky gave her the power to truly direct everything to her heart's desire or similar bullshit like that. Mister Bug and Lady Noire took maybe a few minutes to try to figure things out when Lady Noire skipped straight to the attack phase, beating Directator with the director's chair.

He should have noticed that she was ready to pounce when Lady Noire's ears were angled back and her electric green tail was whipping back and forth in a threatening fashion. She'd been way more actual-cat-like than he ever was as Chat Noir.

Directator panicked and commanded Lady Noire to 1) stop attacking her, 2) put the director's chair down gently, 3) be a nice kitty, 4) take off and go.

Mister Bug spent the next few minutes chasing after Lady Noire. When he finally caught up with her and stopped her, she put up her hands. He sighed with relief that she still wanted to work with him. He'd been relieved all up until she started slapping him with those hands and he fell back in surprise. She took off again.

It looked like she was heading in a particular direction so, after deciding to stay back a bit, Mister Bug trailed after her to see where she ended up. He didn't have to wait too long until she stopped running across the rooftops and dropped down to street level, where she seemed to chat up a dude in full riding gear next to a motorcycle. The next thing he saw was Lady Noire taking motorcycle guy by the waist and using her baton to propel them both to the roof of the tallest nearby building.

Maybe he should… do something about that? Especially since it seemed like Motorcycle Guy was screaming out a "what the fuuuuck".

Mister Bug went after them and found Motorcycle Guy sitting against the raised ledge of the building with Lady Noire curled up against him, sitting on his lap. Adrien coughed to hide and try to suppress his laughter. Motorcycle Guy raised his visor (oh hey, it was Luka) and asked "What's going on?"

Before Mister Bug could answer Lady Noire leapt up and stamped her foot in front of Adrien. "No! He's mine! Leave us alone!!" she hissed.

"I'm what?" Luka said incredulously.

Mister Bug backed up a few steps to placate her. "Yeah, okay," he chuckled. "You're being a nice kitty, right?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm always nice."

"You're right. So the nice kitty will let me talk to her friend for a minute, right? 'Cause you're such a nice Lady Noire?"

"Only a minute," she said unhappily. She was pouting.

"Great!" Mister Bug said cheerfully. He walked over to Luka and contemplated what to do on the way.

∴

(Just a bit earlier)

Where had Marinette disappeared to? Luka had knocked several times after she shut him out but she didn't answer. He pressed his ear against the door to see if he could hear anything but it was dead silent on the other side. She wouldn't have made out with him and thrown him out like this and ghosted him… would she? It didn't seem like a Marinette thing. Not that he was an expert in all things Marinette… one day he'd like to see if she'd let him become one though.

He had loitered around her place for probably 20 minutes trying to convince himself to not break in and find out what happened. He'd have to respect her privacy and he did, really, but the last akuma attack magically teleported her to his someone else's bed and his thoughts were slowly spiraling into dangerous territory, where he imagined her ending up in Adrien's bed and her realizing she had better people than Luka to roll around under the bedcovers with.

Be cool, man, he thought at himself. Not going to help anyone if he suffered a mental breakdown. There might be a non-zero chance that she ended up back at his place? Okay that seemed too optimistic but… he should probably let his flatmate know he was fine and that he was heading back anyway.

He walked out to his bike after putting his jacket back on and unlocked the rear seat off to get to his helmet. He'd been ready to get back on the bike and ride off when he heard more than saw someone plunk down next to him. He turned and Lady Noire was looking directly at him. "Hi Luka," she said. "I need you."

"For the akuma?" He asked. Maybe he needed to be Viperion again? "Okay?" She rushed in and threw him over her shoulder, then they were a hundred meters in the air. "What the fuck?!"

He got plopped down against the ledge of the building and then she sat curled up on him. It might have been his imagination but… she was purring? This was… not making any sense at all. Luka saw Mister Bug land on the roof and the spotted hero managed to get Lady Noire off of him for a minute.

Mister Bug walked over and sighed before talking with Luka. That was a bad sign. "I'm sorry to have to ask this, but could you… stay with her until I can deal with this akuma? I just needed to know she's safe and in one place."

"… What?"

"Mind control akuma. Lady Noire's been hit with some weird commands." Mister Bug paused and looked thoughtful. "Hmm, I don't know, actually. Seems like she's just doing whatever she wants to outside of being ordered to leave the scene."

"Can't you fix that? Or… maybe get me out of here?"

"It'll be fixed after I deal with the akuma. I don't know if you noticed but Kitty here has been pretty extreme recently. Might be safer for everyone, including both me and you, if she's here and not ordered to Cataclysm anyone or anything." Mister Bug dropped his voice to a whisper. "Never thought she'd be a loose cannon. She might just attack me again so I'm not going to tempt fate if she just wants to hang out with you." Mister Bug shrugged at Luka. "Hey, greater good and all that. I promise I'll fix this as soon as I can. Take care of her, alright?"

"Hey wait--" "Bug out!"

Mister Bug up and left them. Shit. Lady Noire came walking back and looked over the edge of the building to make sure Mister Bug was gone. She sat back down next to Luka. "Okay, good, it's just us!" she beamed, hugging him.

"Uh," Luka started uncomfortably. "Not… to try to make things any weirder, but… could you get off of me?"

She pulled back, looking hurt. "You don't like me?"

"I… don't know who you are. I mean as a person, not a superhero." Luka tried to say that gently enough to not set her off. "I might like you if I got to know you?" He backtracked, feeling unsure. "But I mean, I'm just not great with the touching. I'm… into someone and it feels wrong to have someone else be this close."

Her ears flattened out to the side. "Who's that?" she asked, half sad and half… bitter? He felt like he just waded into turbulent waters. He didn't want to throw anyone under the Lady Noire murder bus, least of all Marinette.

"I'll tell you if you stay here," he compromised, hoping that he didn't just sign any death warrants. "Besides, you know her already. She usually chases after you."

"Alya?!" Lady Noire was shocked.

"No, Marinette? She always runs out to--"

"But I'm Marinette."

"… You. You're Marinette? Marinette Du--"

"Dupain-Cheng, yeah. That's me."

Oh. "… I thought you weren't supposed to tell anyone who you were?"

She snorted. "I can do whatever I want!" She leaned in closer. "So does this mean I can touch you again?"

∴

It was just a few moments shy of Mister Bug letting the ladybugs set everything back to normal, so he ignored the notification on his yo-yo from Lady Noire. He checked it after and saw one line: "Taking Luka home now! ;)" Oh boy. Well, she should be relatively okay now. Luka would be fine.

Hopefully…

∴

Lady Noire started whining and that whine turned into a full blown scream in the middle of dropping from the roof, just as the Miraculous Cure worked its magic over her. Luckily she still landed softly enough while she held onto Luka, so it wasn't that she had lost control or anything. She immediately jumped away from him after setting him on his feet.

"Oh my god I am so, so, so, so sorry Luka," she cried, covering her entirely red face with her hands.

"Thank god you're back to normal," Luka sighed, leaning back against the building.

"Any chance you could forget all that?" Lady Noire asked nervously, dropping her hands back to fiddle with her baton. She looked like she wanted to leave Earth as soon as she possibly could.

All that included him taking his helmet off, her crawling back into his lap and grinding herself against him, her ripping apart his jacket and shirt (they were fixed now), peppering him with kisses and tiny bites everywhere, and doing all of this while she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng underneath it all. He did his best to keep up and reciprocate but she was superpowered. She barely let him breathe but he survived. And he'd enjoyed it. He had enjoyed the hell out of it. But at the same time he had gotten thoroughly overwhelmed.

He didn't want to forget all that, but… "I can if you want me to," he sighed. She'd been mind-controlled, after all. "It was all the akuma, right?" Too bad. "What… about earlier?"

She opened her mouth to reply but inhaled too quickly and started coughing. "Um, I…" She coughed again. "Er. Um…" She bit her lip and looked down, muttering something to herself.

∴

Goddamn it, Plagg. Plagg had mentally kicked her and the voice in her head said "Cat's already outta the bag, toots, you've been wanting to mount that guy for-e-ver. Don't you dare take it back." It startled her enough to cause her to choke on air.

"Um, I… Er. Um…" She kicked at the ground. She wanted this. She wanted this. No mind-influencing akuma had told her to kiss him, that had been completely her. "No, don't… don't forget anything. I wanted all that," she sighed. "It was all me."

He raised his helmet visor to get a better look at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded and looked back up at him. "I'm sure. I… kinda want to continue, too?"

It sounded like he choked. "I… wouldn't mind that."

She glanced back at her apartment a few blocks away. "See you in a few?"

∴

(Some time later)

Luka hadn't completely gotten used to waking up with someone else in bed. He wasn't sure if he ever would, since every time he woke up next to Marinette it'd been nothing short of amazing and he'd felt like he was dreaming but no, she was actually there.

Occasionally he'd have to deal with waking up in the middle of the night because she'd leave for patrol, or had come back from it to snuggle back into his arms. It wasn't really a problem because they were together in the morning.

He didn't really miss waking up alone.