#Have i ever done this with him before? Worst. Self sabotage. Ever.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
darkestbones · 22 days ago
Text
ok. Im ok now
0 notes
ozzgin · 4 months ago
Note
WAIT WAIT WAIT!!! I have an ask for Yandere School! What if, Y/N finally did become a yandere for someone, BUT Y/N is the 'never lets on' type of yandere?
There's no change in Y/N's grades, no change in demeanor, they still act- or maybe in this case- pretends to be innocent and oblivious to everyone, especially their crush (Y/N might abuse the fact that they're known as the worst Yandere student who acts more like a Darling, to gain their trust before they realize it's too late). The extreme obsession is there, but it's just not noticeable enough.
How will they react if Y/N shows subtle signs of being a yandere? Will they actually believe Y/N finally became a yandere, or will they have doubts? This is just optional, but imagine Y/N became obsessed with a yandere, but both of them didn't knew they're yandere to each other, so they always unintentionally end up sabotaging each other's plans (ex. both Y/N and the yandere are asleep on the table, because they spiked each other's drinks. The Yandere is genuinely confused and had been trying to stalk find Y/N for hours, unbeknownst to them Y/N is secretly following behind them all along)
Soo this is yet another Clumsy!Yandere crossover, but it just makes a lot of sense to me. Hear me out.
Tumblr media
You’re consistently failing classes and struggling to keep up with your peers. Everyone finds it cute, however, and it's a fantastic excuse to get closer to you.
Then the Yandere School x Darling Academy event happens. You immediately take the initiative and pair up with your best friend, Clumsy!Yandere. And that’s when things take an unexpected turn.
It turns out that when it comes to Clumsy!Yandere, you can be extremely protective. You don’t even realize it. In your eyes, you’re just looking after your sweetheart. To everyone else, you’re flawlessly executing the role of a yandere.
The other fellow students can only stare in disbelief, watching you as you figure out things you were previously clueless about.
“I c-could do the yandere part”, your clumsy partner suggests with feigned confidence.
Oh, no. You know how competitive your classmates are. No way you’d ever allow him to potentially get hurt. Not on your watch.
Were you always this good of a yandere?
When the teachers ask you to replicate that same performance, you have no idea what they’re talking about. You’re back to your pathetic, helpless self. A paradox yet to be deciphered by your peers.
“That damn pest”, one classmate curses out, pocket knife sneakily hidden as they wait around the corner ahead of Darling Academy.
They can’t take it anymore. The way you look at him, the way your voice softens whenever you speak to him
it should be them instead! What has he done to deserve your grace? He needs to be dealt with.
“Enjoying your walk?”
The student jolts in surprise and turns around. It’s you. Yet you look different this time. Your smile is cold, and your eyes have an eerie glisten to them.
“H-how did you know where I-”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be this close to Darling Academy. I suggest you leave.”
“Are you going to tell the teachers?”
“Teachers? Nonsense. I can take care of you myself", you say mechanically, blocking their path.
An abrupt shiver crosses their spine, and they scramble. Revenge will have to be postponed for now.
Moments later, Clumsy!Yandere greets you with a cheerful smile.
"I hope you weren't waiting too long. Shall I walk you home?" he proposes with a blush. Your answer doesn't really matter, truth be told. He will follow you either way. How else is he meant to guarantee your safety?
You'd be lost without him.
Tumblr media
[Yandere School] | [Clumsy!Yandere]
1K notes · View notes
timkontheunsure · 5 months ago
Text
Part 1 Blitz & BPD coding
Ok quick bit first before getting into the nitty-gritty. So to have BPD you need to have 5 of these 9 traits:-
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(putting as by proxy with him cus damage your image is harmful to your psyche).
Poor bugger looks to have 9 of 9
Alot of BPD patterns and strategies comes from childhood trauma, and Blitz has this in spades.
Scapegoat and attachment style
Tumblr media
Cash is clearly a narcissistic Dad, see the kids as tools.
Cash uses Blitz's love and Strong attachment to his Mum to force Blitz to be useful to him, and do what he wants.
This sends the very strong message that love is conditional. That it is bought through what he can do for another. And that without being useful love and affection will be withdrawn, because he doesn't really deserve it.
We see wee tinny Blitzo struggles with making balloon animals, is a little clumsy, has a sense of humour that not a crowd pleaser. This puts him at the bottom of the pecking order.
This position is the scapegoat. Blamed for anything that goes wrong (fire), to keep the others in line (Fizz told done on purpose), given the most dangerous jobs (rob a Goetia), and given the lest love and affection.
Narcissist see people as tools or a burden. All love from Cash is conditional/transactional.
How Blitz gets love is to be used or to be useful. This the rule.
Affection freely given can't be trusted. It is a lie. This why any Stolas shows has to be either ignored, or change to a kink of "getting plowed by people you look down on". Making himself used.
Tumblr media
But Stolas breaks this when he says Blitz "no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me, you are... you are free of me." He panics that he's being abandoned; "I can be better", "I'm I not fucking you good enough" are his immediate responses. Trying to get back to the safety of what he knows.
If they're no 'obligation' then there can't be affection and he wants to Stay with Stolas. And if there's no 'obligation' Stolas telling him he cares must be a lie.
Tumblr media
He's slowly coming to see that this isn't always the case in apology tour; when his "earning" his way through sex is rebuffed again.
Tumblr media
(It may not be Stolas' kink; but being fucked by an all powerful prince who degraded his a little might be Blitz's đŸ€­).
After the accident this rule gets a second fun extra playmate that anyone who loves him will be hurt. So Blitz must push them way, to keep them safe from him. These 2 rules give Blitz the disorganised fearful-avoidant attachment style. (Woo go him, give him a cookie. Or you know all the nope, but still give him a cookie).
Tumblr media
Disorganised fearful-avoidant attachment comes with a push-pull of wanting to be close but close relationships are scary. (Like running away from Voroskia for loving him).
He is getting better by refusing to be dismissed by Stolas, and coming back the next morning. And even talking to him at the party.
But mostly this bit: "Oh, sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me, and I've let my self hatred stop me from apologizing to anyone I could ever care about!" Blitz in a nutshell everybody.
His self hatred makes him to self sabotage any romantic relationship before it gets to deep. To protect the people he likes and makes sure they can't love him. Because he doesn't deserve it. Thems the rules after all.
Cash and the accident has taught Blitz to hate himself.  
It's also likely why Blitz thinks apologies are for pussys, and that no one deserves one anyway.  Those sound like words put in his mouth for daring to ask his dad to say sorry. 
He doesn't think he's worth it.
Tumblr media
(Added the cuddles pic cus I like the cuddles). And Blitz still doesn't trust that he deserved to be forgiven by Fizz.
This self hatred is why he can't picture anyone loving him, let alone Stolas
"This whole thing we had going... I'm- I mean you're a fucking prince. How could you ever actually care for an imp... Me? How could anybody?" "Stolas, you are better off without me. 'Kay? You deserve so much... I don't even".
No one is allowed to want him.
End of part 1
I'll stick the link to the next part when I get done it, but might be a bit.
Next time some such fun shenanigans as:
Difficulty regulating emotions
Being a burden & how to be useful to IMP
Spitting
Massive fear of abandonment
Emotional loops
The Deal
Chronic feelings of emptiness
Self hatred & the Belief others Must hate him
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(his cookie)
As normal is absolutely fine if you don't agree. This is just something I like to do.
300 notes · View notes
chaifootsteps · 4 months ago
Note
hb could have actually worked Stolas in to the 'Blitz needs to believe people can love him so he won't die alone' plot without it being so disgusting and yucky
OK so hear me out - everything plays out the same up to Ozzie's
then in s2-4 instead of doing The Circus and making Stolas the main character, we stay with Blitz. if S1 was about who he's hurt in the past s2 is the point at which he begins trying to mend fences, but actively instead of the writers just forcing him to do it because he realized in Ozzie's he doesn't like how things are now
have the 'crashed Moxxie's anniversary' actually pay off with M&M being frostier than usual and Blitz being afraid he's about to lose them too. have Loona be annoyed when Blitz is overbearing when she's trying to make new friendships and accidentally sabotaging them with his over-protectiveness
have it be a story of Blitz simultaenously trying to make it up to people from the past (not all of whom forgive him) while he's trying to avoid repeating the same mistakes in the present with his new family
have the circus accident be more directly his fault - maybe he's practicing a stunt to win his father's love and causes the fire that way, even though he obviously didn't mean to
and have him begin to be emotionally vulnerable in small ways and he feels it pay off when others respond in kind instead of mocking or hating him like he fears. Trash 'Oops' as an episode but keep the emotional beat of Fizz forgiving him being the turning point for Blitz forgiving himself a bit, too, because Fizz's forgiveness is the thing he's secretly longed for during the entire show (next to Barbie's, who should also get vastly more screentime). have arcs to handle each of the main cast and flesh out IMP first and foremost
then as he begins to heal and treat people better, return to the Ozzie's plotline. have it be a thread throughout s2 of following Blitz's perspective of the fallout, not Stolas'. Show how confused he is by what Stolas is doing and why he's so happy to avoid him for those months off. have him make small comments to the people in his life about how deeply unhappy Stolas makes him and have them actually notice, because Blitz hated himself so much before he just rationalized what was being done to him as something he deserved
have the full moon argument play out as-is, but instead of what happens during apology tour, have Blitz think what he needs to do is apologize to Stolas to complete his character growth and love someone. Except make it clear to the audience that he has nagging doubts about all this - especially when Stolas pulls the 'I can't believe you didn't ditch taking your daughter to the doctor's office to come save me despite sending your employees to help because I fundamentally don't value your family or your time' card
And then right when it looks like he's about to cave and give Stolas what he wants - he doesn't.
He tells Stolas now he's learnt to love himself and he has people in his life again who've proven to him that he can be cherished and his worst self won't be rejected so long as he puts the work in to make things right when he screws up. He tells Stolas he used to think the owl was the closest thing to real love he could ever have - feeling used, abused and degraded. But he knows better than that now and he isn't about to let a pompous self absorbed royal bully him into being the perfect consort he wants. He goes further than that, even, telling Stolas he was bought to be his friend and pitied him from the start - and even now he wouldn't trade places with him even if he could
Because Blitz has rebuilt his life by looking in the mirror, holding himself to task and trying to be better. Meanwhile Stolas - who has had every advantage Blitz hadn't and could have chosen every step to do things differently - has actively pushed away both Via and Blitz with his 'never my fault, promise to do differently while getting worse all the time' behavior
Then Blitz walks out of his life for good, because now he has regained a sense of self worth he can see that he deserves better than the "love" Stolas was offering
and the one person he does apologize to, besides Barbie/Fizz/Moxxie/Verosika/etc? Striker. He apologizes for calling him a supremacist (still happens in this rewrite but as a sign of how hard Blitz is trying not to think that Striker has a point about Stolas) and that he isn't interested in fighting with him any longer
And Striker just responds with a smile, because he knows it means what he hoped all along would happen, has happened. Blitz is finally free from Stolas - and when he's ready he can move on to a love who respects him instead of just wanting to use him
Tumblr media
I want this. If we can't have this in canon because Viv is Viv, I'm glad we have it here and now.
59 notes · View notes
espinosaurusrexex · 2 years ago
Note
One saves the other bingo prompt for Bucky
It’s just a little snippet, but it felt good that way :)
One Saves the Other (Bingo Game)
!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!
Grumpy!BuckyBarnes x Sunshine!Female!Reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst, confusion, self-sabotage, but a little fluffy too
Tumblr media
Bucky liked it better when he was the guy everyone avoided. When everyone was still changing sides of the street as soon as they saw him. When they hated his guts and left him to be his lonely, sorrowful self in peace. When they saw him as the villain - at least villains were left alone. Now? Not anymore. 
He’s had a dream about it once. It was a nightmare. One where everyone was talking his ear off day and night, swooning about what a great hero he was. But Bucky didn’t believe it. Just like he never believed in monsters or ghosts, he never thought dreams would come true. Not even the bad ones. 
Note to self: being a good person is fucking exhausting. That would be pinned to his bathroom mirror from now on, so he could remind himself to never do something as stupid as today ever again.
But it had happened so quickly, Bucky didn’t even have time to think about it. He saw a woman step into the street and the next second that SUV came speeding down main. He had pushed you away and stopped the damn car with his metal arm - hopefully giving the driver a concussion with the force that idiot hit the steering wheel. 
But the actual worst part had just begun. At least Bucky had a hunch it was just the beginning because you were sitting across from him and just didn’t. stop. talking. 
“The people were cheering, have you noticed that? Oh my god. You were probably all up in the hero zone, weren’t you? That is so cool!”
His eyes met the ceiling when he rolled his head back on the plush armchair of the cafĂ© you had dragged him into, insisting, begging, him to let you invite him. The coffee was good but, hell, you were annoying. If only he had let you cross that stupid street. The shameful thought crossed his mind as soon as the following scolding - he wasn’t that evil. He just wanted to be left alone, for god’s sake. 
“I can’t believe I’m having coffee with a real Avenger!” He looked at you. Bucky wasn’t an Avenger. But something about the idea made his body feel tingly. What the hell?
“Stop.” Your y/e/c eyes stared up at him, not frightful, attentively. 
“Am I annoying you? Oh no, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” 
Bucky just smiled awkwardly. He wasn’t used to this much attention. And he couldn’t possibly fathom why you would want to spend this much time with him. He just pushed you off the road. Everyone would have done so. He just happened to be the fastest. “What I did... what just happened - everyone would have...”
“But they didn’t,” you stated plainly, “you’re my hero.” But there was meaning behind your words. Bucky just couldn’t place it. It stirred something within him. A tingle, a weird feeling in his stomach that made him lightheaded.
“But I’m not.” Special. He looked at the ground, his hands wringing in his lap. Why didn’t you realize it? He was a bad guy. A horrible, horrible person.
You just looked at him with those eyes. He’d seen them once before today. Right after he had stopped the car in the street - admirable, fathoming. But why?
Bucky felt your stare burning his skin, panic and confusion mixing in one over the reason you thought he was anything but the threat Hydra had made him - and how familiar it felt. “I gotta go,” he pressed between his teeth before standing up from the table. 
“Wait!” Your hand shot out to hold him back by his arm - his metal arm. “Do you really think that?” Ant that’s when Bucky realized where he had seen the look before. Steve had done the same thing when they met after 70 years of war. That hopefulness mixed with sorrow, empathetic but not pitying. It brought a sense of liking to him, but Bucky didn’t want it. He didn’t want anyone else in his life he could potentially harm. Because that was what he always did - destroy, hurt, shatter.
He couldn’t do it - not today. “Goodbye,” he mumbled and then he broke free from your grasp and left.
-❁-
Now he was in trouble. Bucky had spent all day thinking about you - the mysterious woman that reminded him so much of the person he cherished the most. But you weren’t Steve. You were a stranger. A random person that, for some reason, had his thoughts twisted in one direction straight. 
He thought about the way you dragged him into that cafe so shamelessly. The way you showed zero signs of fear around him. The way you talked to him and how you didn't back down even when he shot you down over and over again. 
And even though a feeling of utter confusion swept his body the whole time, a little drop of something else mixed with the sensation, sedating him with an urge to just find you again, ask you about it and have his mind be quiet again. Well, as quiet as it would get. At least free from these strange thoughts.
Before Bucky knew it, he had put on his leather jacket and let his apartment door fall shut with moderate force. His muddy boots were shaking the stairs on his way down to the entryway, and soon, he found himself on the same street he had saved you in just days ago. 
The sound of traffic still ringing in his ears, he stepped inside and ordered himself a coffee at the counter. The Bucky turned nervously, leaving against the bar top and scanning the room. He hoped to look casual, but his heart was doing weird things as he hoped to find you amongst the people sitting at the table in the cozy cafe. 
And, sure enough, there you were, sitting by the window and reading a book. Your knee tucked under your chin and a hot cup of tea steaming on the table in front of you. Bucky couldn't stop looking. His eyes were glued to you. He traced your frame with his eyes, memorized the way your fingers curled around your book, and didn’t even notice how the waitress put his paper cup down behind him. And when he pushed his elbow back, it toppled over. The barista yelped, and your head shot up immediately, eyes inevitably meeting his. 
He smiled, and you waved and as Bucky was still processing the little interaction, you had approached him by the counter.
“So I didn't totally scare you off. That’s good to know.” The barista was still cursing behind him, but a look from you calmed her down. It was magical. 
Bucky just watched as you ordered him another coffee, almost in awe by the casual movements you made around him as if he wasn’t him. 
“Why aren’t you scared?” Bucky asked genuinely, a small shiver of nervousness rushing over his skin at all the answers you could give him. He watched as your hand carefully laid on top of his vibranium one on the bar top. Then you looked at him insistently with a faint smile on your lips.
“I believe people are not what others say they are. They’re defined by their actions. And you... well, you saved my life.”
Wanna be added to the Taglist?
@almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200
342 notes · View notes
thecoolerliauditore · 6 months ago
Note
hey why does third life Cleo need to be put in the shredder ?
genuine question by the way, I don't think I have seriously thought about third life Cledubs ever
girl help I forgot I made that post so I was just staring at that first sentence for way too long like. does she.
but uh yeah disclaimer or whatever that on this blog specifically I tend to speak more hyperbolic and don't care to fact check myself because like 99% of the time I just write words and leave. I haven't necessarily like. looked back at any of my own posts a day or so later and gone "wow okay that's just incorrect" but I do acknowledge that like. I'm really letting the interpretation/headcanon lines blur over here at times and sometimes I'll just say shit. so yeah blah blah blah none of this is gospel everything with a grain of salt etc etc
anyway cleo in the life series in general drives me a bit insane because like 85% of the time they are really cool and awesome and funny and my favourite guy but then there's the 15% of time she shares onscreen in an extended conversation with scott smahor and she suddenly becomes like. genuinely the worst person alive to me I want her prosecuted jailed death penalty'd.
In third life specifically she makes an alliance with scott behind bdubs' back called the "widows alliance" which was based on a promised partnership after their respective partners (bdubs and jimmy) died before they did. Which is like. One of the things I am mad forever about people suddenly deciding everything is Silly when it comes to the guys doing horrible shit because what the fuck, man.
I guess there is an argument to be made for the level of seriousness on Cleo's side because unlike Scott we don't get any indication that she like. genuinely expects to outlive bdubs. And she could very much just be saying words for the sake of it or have yet to completely grasp the concept of "permadeath" (like many others) but I'm still mad. Very happy she ate shit and died right after Jimmy. I'm sorry women.
I would have to rewatch 3L from cleo's POV to say this with confidence but I would also like to add that from what I recall she was also somewhat? dismissive of bdubs the whole time even though a lot of the heavy lifting in their partnership was done by him. BUT in cleo's defense she was distrusting of essentially everyone in 3L and kept everybody at arm's length ++ I'm willing to attribute this more reflective of Cleo's running theme of being insecure in her own abilities than any sign that she thinks lesser of Bdubs specifically.
Post-3L Cleo is epic and awesome in Last Life as byproduct of the fairy fort being epic and awesome and even when she eventually joins GGG it's fine because LL!Scott is the only instance of Scott feeling human emotions in this series but ohhh my god DL Cleo is a whole beast of her own I could write essays upon essays on how DL Cleo is the worst guy ever this mf sets a little puppy dog on FIRE and no one ever mentions it I'm angry forever about it.
Everything limited life onwards is fine she chills out super hard about the not trusting people thing and limlife cleo specifically is really really funny even if she would still stab bigb to death with a kitchen fork if given the opportunity. Her relationship with Bdubs is pretty much un-weirded in my head I don't think they were like. Awful in 3L even I just think that Cleo has issues with relationships in general and self-sabotages alot due to her own insecurities and so she ends up doing alot of fucked up insane person things despite not really being. Bad herself if that makes sense?
Very very shy little endnote it's also like. Interesting to me that Cleo and only Cleo refers to the 3L Cledubs partnership as like. Romantic in any sense. Cleo uses terms like "husband" very generously so I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt here and say it means fuck all but idk idk something about the way Bdubs never reciprocates and instead assigns himself her son the next time they end up together is really funny to me.
Anyway yeah whatever. the shredder.
4 notes · View notes
thatseventiesbitch · 2 years ago
Note
People like to say Donna’s a bitch, but Eric’s a complete asshole towards her. Sure, Donna can be a little mean and step out of line. But Eric’s vindictive and does not treat her well
Thanks for the ask!
Oh boy. Here I've been such a staunch Donna defender, but now I have to defend m'boy Eric Forman! 😂
Eric has his not-great moments. And then he has his flat out bad ones. But I'd never characterize him as an asshole, and more importantly, Donna says that he treats her well. đŸ€·đŸ»
In S2xE3 "The Velvet Rope", Eric asks Donna why she's with him. The bouncer wanted to know. She asks what he said, and Eric said he couldn't think of a reason. Here's what she says:
"Hm. You know, come to think of it, I can't either! What I need to do is find a guy who's like, totally different from you. Maybe big, and dumb, and you know, not nice to me. Oh, and no sense of humor so when I tell a joke he doesn't get it, I mean that's a real turn on."
Or in S2xE19 "Parents Find Out", she tells Bob,
"[Eric]'s treated me like a queen since the day we started dating."
Etc.
But, that said, Eric definitely fucks up a few times throughout the series, and he's lucky Donna's such a good forgiver. I've said this a lot - that it's strange how some people act like Donna always wronged Eric, and never vice versa. See my essay - Is Donna 'Toxic' In Her Relationship With Eric? (Hint: no.)
Eric is often self-centered and sometimes petty with Donna, especially in the first half of the series. He likes to win, he always competes with her. He's stubborn and wants everything to be done his way - which is the traditional way. And Donna's not. But he realizes that he's been sabotaging his relationship with Donna in the season 4 finale thanks to his parents', erm, pep talk? and they are happy together until... well. Until he messes it up again at the end of S6.
Eric's like the epitome of hurting Donna/doing the wrong thing with the right intentions. Like when he didn't show up for their wedding (well, rehearsal dinner) which was one of the - if not the - worst things he ever did, in my opinion. But he came back, and he admitted to Donna that he only did it because he was afraid they were making a huge mistake and didn't know how to tell her. I think it's a bad excuse, lmao, but Donna forgives him. Probably because she was thisclose to doing the same thing.
Sidebar - I would have loved if that storyline ended this way instead. Picture Donna and Eric both ditching out the night before the wedding, and then running into each other. *Feels another 'What If' story brewing...*
Africa was a selfish decision right from the get-go. He needed money for school and had to get creative - cool, yeah. But deciding to move to a different country for a year without running it by Donna - and then acting offended and confused when she was upset by it - was selfish, and when he tried to play it off like it was 'for their future', Donna saw right through it and called him out. Which is part of what I enjoy about their dynamic.
Donna always forgiving him even though he's a dumbass is another part of their dynamic. For me, it works because Eric is a loveable dumbass who shows he's capable of reflecting and changing. Donna messes up a lot, too, as she learns how to be in her first relationship and Eric often forgives her just as gracefully. I repeat myself, but it's why I love them.
Long story long, I can be frank about Eric Forman, and he isn't perfect. I don't like to watch perfect characters. I don't know about you, but they bore me.
But for all of his flaws, Eric is also:
a loyal friend (and son and boyfriend)
he stands up for what he believes in
he's reflective and he learns and grows from his mistakes
he cares about other people's feelings - even people he doesn't particularly like, like Mitch
really funny
...I could go on and on. I love me some Eric Forman. 😊
In fact, I perused my .gifs file and pulled some of my all-time favorite Eric Forman moments for everyone to enjoy. He ain't all bad. 😉
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
13 notes · View notes
bigskydreaming · 2 years ago
Text
An under-appreciated facet of (unapologetically petty) Roberto Da Costa’s character is that everybody assuming he’d grow up to become a villain is literally his hero origin story.
Back during the original New Mutants, everyone from Xavier to Magneto to Cable to Gideon were all convinced that he was this hothead with too much pride, bravado and ego and he was inevitably going to grow up to sell out or turn on his friends or betray any ideals he might have in the name of self interest....
And Roberto was one hundred percent aware of this from day one. Partly because none of them were subtle about assuming the worst of him and partly because as he’s the first to tell everyone, Roberto Da Costa is a frickin’ genius.
But the thing I absolutely love about his character was rather than dwelling in his bitterness about this - which he did feel, with extreme validity - he spitefully doubled down on being everything they never gave him credit for being. A genuinely good person invested in his friends, his people, the world at large.
Here’s the specific angle of all this that I LOVE though. Because proving everyone wrong about him isn’t the SOURCE of Roberto being a hero.
To say that would be to give all these people credit for his choices, his very fundamental inner nobility and goodness.
Nah, the distinction that I LOVE is that Roberto was always going to be a hero, IMO. But what all the vaunted leaders of mutantkind’s lack of faith in him DID result in....
Was HOW Roberto went about being a hero as he grew older.
His heroics aren’t because of them - rubbing everyone’s faces in his heroics though....THAT’S where the pettiness and spite comes in. That’s the part they earned with their lack of faith in him...and keep earning, as they keep doubting him all over again every single time he does something - DELIBERATELY does something - that seems to validate their NEED to insist they were right to be wary of him all along.
Like.....Roberto’s pattern is he dives headfirst into plans and agendas that on a surface level, at first glance, even upon deeper scrutiny - SEEM like a fall to the dark side, a betrayal of some kind....UNLESS you actually have faith in him and his intentions and abilities.
He did it when he joined with Gideon, seemingly confirming all his teachers’ doubts about him....and then betrayed Gideon to of course side with all his friends.
He did it when he joined the Hellfire Club, taking his father’s old position and rising through the ranks to become the Lord Imperial, seemingly confirming Xavier and others’ fears that he would grow up to be exactly like his father....except he only joined the Hellfire Club to sabotage, undermine and dismantle them from the inside while funneling all their assets and resources into the X-Teams. Like he literally joined the bad guys just to embezzle from them before bouncing.
He did it when he took over AIM and installed himself in just the right place and position to perfectly oppose and thwart Evil Captain America when he tried to use AIM and similar organizations to take over the world.
And now he’s doing it again with his shadow games against Brand and SWORD as a member of the Night Table who neither needs nor wants to loop anyone in on his plans because he shouldn’t HAVE to, he’s NEVER been the threat or bad guy or self-interested asshole people keep writing him off as or assuming he’ll someday inevitably expose himself to be....
And he’s not doing all of this BECAUSE nobody believed he could grow up to be a hero. Nah, he was going to do that already. He’s just doing it this specific way as his fuck you to all the people who claimed to want to teach him and help him grow while expecting to have to take him down at some future point.
He’s like HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO TEACH YOU THIS LESSON, OLD MAN (Xavier)....
Because if they would just fucking BELIEVE in him every time he does the same shit he’s done a million times before, without ever actually being vulnerable to being corrupted or succumbing to the dark side, because he knows who he is and wants to be, what he believes in, and no matter how flippant he is these aspects of him and his goals, values, beliefs....they’ve NEVER actually been shaky or easily influenced or coopted by others...
Well then, Roberto keeps pointing out to everyone with his actions, his schemes - and his victories - then maybe they wouldn’t all keep looking so fucking dumb every time his latest dark side turn just turns out to yet again be one more long con on behalf of the good guys.
Roberto Da Costa is like, I’m going to take every single character trait you all pointed at as reasons to be wary of me when I was just a kid who deserved adults who believed in me, and these are the very tools I’m gonna use to single-handedly save the world so many times you’re going to look stupid lmfaaaaaaaaaao.
9 notes · View notes
odara · 2 years ago
Text
Little Orphaned Girl
I’ve been feeling extremely lonely. And it’s to the point where I’m afraid of myself. I’m disappointed in my actions. I’ve done things out of desperation just to feel connected to something, anything. I’m embarrassed, I’m sad. And the worst of it all I feel like I can’t stop the self sabotage.
While 2020 wasn’t the year all of my troubles began, it was the hole in the ship that shook up the trajectory of my life. The passing of my father, my ongoing strained relationship with my mother and me running from confronting my grief have had me on an emotional rollercoaster.
The reoccurring theme that’s been haunting me is the feeling of abandonment. I think this was awakened after the loss of my dad. He was truly my best friend. And grief has really brought to the forefront how much I truly relied on his presence. Although I’d been both my parents sole caretaker for the past decade, I’d say I needed them just as much as they needed me. My dad specifically is what kept breathing life into me. I had to be here because of him. He’s the person who always encouraged me, always had my back, always held me accountable even if it hurt my feelings. I was his stubborn baby girl.
One of our last conversations when he was coherent between his episodes of dementia, I remember him being fussy telling me he could take care of himself and to leave him alone lol. He told me to live my own life and go find my own way. Those words have echoed in my heart ever since. Because he truly wanted me to be happy. On my own, outside of him. But I realize now that I was never truly prepared for that. I was terrified, actually. Because it meant confronting the very things I’ve been running from my whole life. Which I now believe is finding and loving myself.
Shortly after his passing in 2020 I brought my mother who’d been in and out of assisted care homes back home to live with me. It was something I’d never planned on doing for a number of reasons. Our toxic relationship and because I just could no longer care for her in the physical condition she was in, she needed and deserved professional care. But in the height of the pandemic she’d been hospitalized with Covid and almost didn’t make it herself. So I brought her home completely bed ridden and cared for her by myself for 2 years before finding a stable place for her to go.
It’s been a few months since she’s moved out now, and while not having to care for her 24/7 has been a relief, it’s also shined a light on how alone I really am. And I’ve been really trying to find a sense of purpose. Dedicating a huge fragment of my life to care for ill parents has taken a toll on me in every way. The biggest and most centering thing right now is realizing I don’t have community. I literally have no one. While I have distanced myself from the majority of family because of toxic relationships, I’ve also lost a few close friendships along the way.
I have about 4 consistent friendships with some really amazing people. But none of them live here. While that’s never mattered in the decade we’ve known one another, it just feels even more in my face right now. Of course my ongoing depression doesn’t help. The loneliness feels crippling. I think about my friends lives and they all have community. They all have people in their lives who care for them, and most importantly who they can reach out and touch. I long for that. I long for connections that I can feel beyond distance.
I take accountability in not being very proactive in doing my part to establish and build new relationships. It’s hard. Building community at my age
.is work. And with crippling anxiety and depression to ice the cake I’ve been less likely to even leave my house for days at a time. All of which leads to my habits of unhealthy coping and unhealthy attachment issues.
I don’t know why, but since the loss of my dad I’ve had this strong desire to be around masculine energy. I wasn’t dating and had no time for a lot of personal things while I was caretaking. But now my desire and interest in romantic relationships is overwhelmingly high. I want to feel cared for, desired and safe. Which is something I’ve never had before in an intimate relationship.
Right in the midst of my dad passing, I developed a closer relationship with someone I’ve known via social media for over 10 years. In the past 2 years we’d got really close. He doesn’t live here, but the distance never came between my fondness for him. And he was what I desperately needed during that time. There’s a lot of depth to his story which I’ll save for another time. But I later realized he felt so good to me because he was a distraction from my pain. With him, I could focus on just our relationship. And none of the heavy things were on the front of my mind anymore. It was a very toxic and tumultuous relationship but none of that ever outweighed the fact that he just made me feel like I was cared for and thought about. And that someone desired me in a way I’ve never experienced before. It felt like intimacy. And I wanted and needed it badly.
Sadly, as much as I wanted the idea of him to be my reality. It wasn’t. He had a side that was mean, and manipulative and abusive. I don’t think he’s capable of empathy. And as many times as he showed me he was incapable of being someone safe. I continued to engage and want more of him. For the sole reason that he was all I had. And all I felt I deserved. My self esteem is nonexistent. And no matter what was happening in my life or who walked away, he was always there. And now I realize that’s because there was something he desired or needed from the connection too. I knew the day would come where we would eventually part ways but I honestly thought I would’ve been the one to make that decision. And I’m so disappointed in myself for not. But I’m also thankful that he did it for me. Because I don’t know when or if I would have. We were bad for each other. I had a lot of insecurities and needed reassurance. I wasn’t the most emotionally mature and I’m still working on how to communicate my needs. I lacked enforcing boundaries and he was very good at crossing them. My feelings never mattered to him. But his had to be on a pedestal or he’d throw me away. That’s how much I “meant” to him. I gave in and gave him what he wanted most times. But the times I didn’t he made it clear how he’d dispose of me and never look back. I was too scared to lose him, bc without him what else did I have? I was too afraid to be alone. That was dangerous. But the day of reckoning finally came and here I am, alone.
I’ve made desperate attempts of trying to reconnect with him. But he ignored. There was no grand finale to our ending just a deafening silence. No conversation. No goodbye. Just silence. Ghosted. Though we hadn’t spoken in months, he sent me money on my birthday with a short note. “Do something you wouldn’t usually do”. It was odd and confusing, and manipulative as fuck. I thanked him but no response.
There was another connection I had over the summer with someone else. Someone I’d grown to like. It was very surface level and I knew he only wanted to fuck me. He was never intentional about anything outside of that. So I knew. I talked to him a lot about my insecurities and how nervous I was to be with him. He didn’t care. It took 5 years of discourse before I even got the nerve. There was nothing significant or special about him. But I liked him, and I enjoyed talking to him. And for some reason I felt safe. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me in the way I’d been hurt. He felt safe enough to let my guard down and overcome my fear and battle with feeling undesirable. So I said fuck it. And fucked.
It’s funny how intuitive we are but choose to ignore things that have always been obvious. As inconsistent as he always was and his lack of effort had always been
I still chose to believe there was some level of care involved. Ha.Ha. Twice I’ve been a fool I guess. He got distant after he got what he wanted. I initially was ok with that because I kind of got what I wanted too. He served a purpose for me. And that was to let my guard down and get past my insecurities. While how he chose to handle me after didn’t do anything for my insecurities
hell it probably made them worse. I’m still proud of myself for just saying fuck it. He was the vessel I needed to get through that. And I keep trying to remind myself he served his purpose. His job is done.
But of course Miss Anxiety girl couldn’t let it go. I tried to get clarity from him as to what changed. Because after all, things didn’t have to. This was surface level. We were just cool. But being disposed of back to back triggered the fuck out of me. I made attempts. Multiple attempts. While I believe his very vague reasoning and reassurance that it was solely due to whatever he had going on and nothing to do with me
my anxious brain tells me that can’t be true. Whatever the case I’ll never truly know. And I have to be fine with that. But damn, nigga. We can’t even be cordial? It’s just unsettling. Especially when there was no rift.
I’m embarrassed. I’m ashamed. I’m offended. I’m embarrassed of myself because I still wanted to make these connections work. After being disposed of like garbage I still wanted their attention. I was desperate to have something. Even though they made it very clear they want nothing to do with me and whatever their need was had been fulfilled. I still in a way wanted to believe that not to be reality. But it is. And here I am. Facing myself and my aloneness. And trying to let go. Why is it so fucking hard to let go of what’s already let go of me. I’m stronger than this. I know I deserve better. I know these are people who have no significance in my life. Hell, I know neither of them were ever deserving of me in their wildest dreams. But why am I still holding on to these feelings so tightly. I feel so broken.
8 notes · View notes
emerald-chaos · 4 years ago
Text
Daydream
Tumblr media
**gif not mine! credit to the owner**
So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.
Much love xo.
Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes
Word Count: 2079
Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao
Fingers threaded into hair.
Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.
Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.
“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.
Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.
“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”
A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.
“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.
“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”
A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.
“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”
“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.
You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.
Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.
A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.
“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”
“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”
“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”
After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.
“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.
Fuckin’ Natasha.
*******
A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.
As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.
Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.
You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?
*******
Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.
“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.
“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.
You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”
Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.
While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.
“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.
Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.
“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.
Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.
“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.
As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.
“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.
Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.
“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.
“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”
As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.
“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.
A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.
Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.
Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.
Sweet dreams.
- B.
When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.
Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.
415 notes · View notes
adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years ago
Text
Playing Among Us with Them
Tumblr media
Megumi Fushiguro
‐ The Detective
‐ Likes to be dark blue
‐ Fav map, Polus
‐ If you don’t kill him early on be sure he’s going to be the one to catch you
‐ He has the vents memorized
‐ This guy is the one to camp the lights right at the beginning of the game and does all his hard tasks whenever a new round starts so he won’t die
‐ If you get caught by security cameras, better believe it was Megumi who caught you
‐ He’s an even more annoying imposter. He always manages to find you alone or he gets you kicked out the ship.
‐ You’ll have to beg him not to kill you if he’s imposter next round. You promise not to rat him out if you see him kill someone.
‐ He agrees, only to leave you holding the bag by venting away after he kills in electricity.
‐ You sometimes go after him for revenge after he kills you in the previous round. You don’t care who catches you as long as you get him.
‐ Even if no one sees, everyone will always know it’s you because you can’t help but laugh whenever you get him.
‐ One time, when you finally managed to get imposter after not being it all day, he and Yuuji saw you kill 30 seconds into the game.
‐ Megumi felt so bad that he told everyone Yuuji self-reported.
‐ Yuuji didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day. He couldn’t believe the betrayal, not that Megumi minded the quiet for once.
‐ Big blush when you tell him you love him for choosing you before his bro.
Tumblr media
Yuuji Itadori
‐ Third Imposter
‐ Likes to be pink (gets in fights with Nobara because of this)
‐ Fav Map, The Skeld
‐ He’s the biggest simp for your crocodile tears.
‐ He’s always clearing you of any wrongdoing even when you’re caught red handed because “They been with me all game and didn’t kill me.”
‐ Always willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, your sweet Yuuji.
‐ He’ll always hold your hand if you ask him to watch you do your task.
‐ Can never kill you. He’d feel way too bad.
‐ You have no problem killing him though.
‐ Megumi always gets annoyed because “I told you it was them, idiot.”
‐ You give him a kiss after to make it up to him.
Tumblr media
Nobara Kugisaki
‐ The Rage Quitter
‐ Fav map, The Skeld
‐ The worst player because she always gets pissed when she dies, and she always has the bad luck of dying first because she can't do her tasks fast.
‐ She’ll start fights when people try to take the color she wants from her. She always has to be pink, and no one can tell her otherwise.
‐ Accuses everyone at the drop of the hat, making her enemy number one. No one ever believes her when she's right.
‐ Sucks at being an imposter because she’ll get mad if her partner uses sabotages when she wants to use it.
‐ Will always throw her partner under the bus if she thinks it can benefit her.
‐ Holds mad grudges if someone accuses her when she isn’t imp. She’ll spend all day trying to get them voted off.
‐ Won’t apologize even if she was wrong. She had good reason to accuse them.
‐ Swears she’s never playing with you all again but is playing the next day
‐ Tells you that you're amazing when you tell her you killed or kicked someone out for her, even if they weren't imp. You had to get revenge for your woman.
Tumblr media
Gojo Satoru
‐ The Troll
‐ White obviously
‐ Fav map, Airship
‐ Has no care about winning the game, just wants to cause as much chaos as possible
‐ Always takes the helipad when someone else wants to use it.
‐ Takes an agonizingly long time to do his tasks.
‐ Even more annoying imp
‐ He closes all the doors in the airship just to listen to people fail swipe. Has an annoying habit of killing people as soon as they succeed
‐ You swear if he kills you on download or in the toilets one more time that you’re breaking up with him. Because fuck him.
‐ Kills you during upload instead
‐ Calls random vents just for the hell of it and follows people around to make them nervous
‐ Also calls random meetings to ask who all is done with their tasks. Everyone knows he sure as hell isn’t done with his.
‐ Everyone has an unspoken agreement that if Gojo dies first that you won’t sus anyone, because same.
327 notes · View notes
fromthedeskoftheraven · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Always kiss me goodnight
Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader
Content:  Pining, kissing, mention of food, oh no there’s only one bed,   helmetless Din (but it’s dark), baby Yoda is an adorable tiny terror
Word count: ~2200
Note:  I swear I was only going to write one Pedro character fic. Has this   kind of thing been done a million times? Yes. Am I doing it once more?   Also yes. It’s self-indulgent hours and this little love letter to our favorite space dad and his green baby has been nagging at my mind since I  first watched the show.
Tagging the people who asked (If anyone wants to be tagged or un-tagged in any future fics since it seems  I’m well and truly back on my bs just say the word): @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @emesispo @beccaplaying
———————————————
Fatigue has caught up with the little green child now that his belly is full, and crankiness along with it. The Mandalorian has been known to lovingly  call his adopted son a womp rat, but when the baby gets overtired, a rancor is more like it.
This time, you can hardly blame him. The three of you have spent the better part of the day traveling, finally landing on this backwater planet late in the evening. With some searching and a small fortune in credits, Din managed to find a safe, out-of-the-way place to stay, leaving you and the child to eat and settle in while he went to scout the bounty’s location for the next  day’s work.
As the child’s fussing gains momentum, you hustle to the small sink in the corner of the room.
“We’ll wash your face and go straight to bed,” you promise him, letting the   water warm before wetting a cloth and wringing it out thoroughly.
In the mirror, your own face looks as exhausted as he obviously feels. The bed in question is little more than a pallet with a mattress and some  blankets, but it might as well be a royal welcome at this stage of the game.
Despite your gentleness, the baby erupts in an indignant whine as you wipe the cloth over his face and ears. “I know, little love,” you soothe while he struggles in protest. “Almost done.”
He quiets when you scoop him up into your arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy head. You hum bits of a song from your childhood, rocking him from side to side, and his little face crumples with a yawn. His tiny fingers curl into the fabric of your tunic and his head goes heavy on your shoulder, but still he fidgets, making pathetic little sounds in the direction of the door.
“I know,” you murmur again, still swaying on the spot. “He’ll be back soon.”
You’ve grown to love the child and you know he’s fond of you, but as far as   he’s concerned Din is the one who hangs the stars in the sky. He’s always a little agitated when his father is out of sight, and truth be told, so are you.
“I know what we can do,” you say. “Let’s make a plate for your buir for when he comes back. Don’t you think that’ll be nice for him?”
Neither you nor Din are sure how much the child actually understands, but you don’t let it stop you talking to him. If nothing else it makes you feel a little less alone in the long hours when Din is hunting his quarries.
His drooping ears twitch upward with this suggestion. He watches with interest as you lay a plate with some of the fresh fruit, bread, and stewed meat Din bought from the innkeeper for your supper.
“There we go. Now then, bedtime for little ones.”
You turn to survey the sleeping area with a stab of nerves. The minuscule size of the room isn’t a challenge -- the Razor Crest has made you an expert in living in small spaces -- but the lone bed is a wrinkle you hadn’t expected.
Din, ever pragmatic, had been quick to point out that it was plenty big enough for the three of you, and it was only one night. He was right, of course.
Still, you’d never been so grateful for dim lighting, sure that your secret longing for the Mandalorian was written plainly on your flustered face.
You couldn’t have said exactly when your feelings for Din Djarin had strayed  into dangerous territory. Somewhere in the months of traveling with him, caring for his child, helping maintain his ship, reminding him to eat, and tending the worst of his wounds your initial wariness turned to admiration, admiration to fondness, and fondness to something alarmingly like love.
It’s a fool’s errand.
For all his kindness to you Din is an island of a man, set apart from the world in  his shell of beskar and the even more unyielding armor of his creed.  Even if his heart is big enough to encompass the child, you don’t dare to hope there’s room for you too.
And now this bed -- this one kriffing bed -- sits there mocking you and all your silly fantasies of you and Din and the child being a real family, bound together by love instead of convenience.
You turn off the light overhead, leaving only the small, sickly lamp at the table to light Din’s way to his supper.
The mattress is clean and the blankets are a bit threadbare but soft, and the baby only has the energy to grumble a little when you lay him down on the side closest to the wall and tuck the thickest of them around   him. Yawning widely, he stretches out a hand toward you, fingers grabbing at the air.
The gesture warms your weary heart.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
You lie down beside him and face away from the table, mindful that Din will need privacy to eat. The little body shuffles closer to you, curling into your shoulder, and a surge of fierce affection pricks your eyes with tears. You wrap your arm around the baby to hold him close as the full brunt of the long day overtakes you.
“Good night, little love,” you say around a yawn, just as your eyes fall closed.
***
You wake with a start. The windowless room is pitch black, and in the absence of any landmarks your brain races to orient itself.
At your back, the child’s soft, snuffling breaths. A well-worn blanket draped over you and a slightly lumpy mattress beneath.
The inn, you remember in a flash.
At your front...something warm and broad and solid. You’ve nestled into it  in your sleep, one arm thrown over it, your hand grasping soft fabric. A familiar, comforting scent surrounds you, a scent you cherish from laundry days and the cramped quarters of a small ship.
Oh, Maker.
You clearly slept through Din coming back and getting into bed, and now you’re wrapped around him like a second set of clothes. The rush of blood into your cheeks flames so hot you worry he must feel it through the base layers he’s wearing to sleep.
Shrinking into yourself, you begin to pull away, as stealthily as you can. If you  can just get back to your own side of the bed and brazen it out in the  morning, maybe he’ll never be the wiser.
Slowly, so slowly, you  release the handful of his shirt you’re holding and move your arm from where it’s resting across his chest...
In the darkness, a hand encircles your wrist.
Oh, Maker.
You’ve watched Din wrestle enough uncooperative bounties into the carbonite   chamber to know you’re not getting away from him if he doesn’t want you to. But his grip on your wrist is light, gentle. His thumb rests on the place where your pulse is fluttering like a trapped bird, whether from embarrassment or his closeness you’re not entirely sure.
“Din.” It comes out barely a whisper, sabotaged by the sudden dryness of your mouth. You swallow hard and try again. “Din, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s all right.”
His voice is a revelation. Free of the modulator’s rasp, it’s warmer, richer, somehow softer and more resonant at the same time. You’ve never even been in the same room with him when he has his helmet off, and the realization that he’s right there, a breath away, is dizzying.
Silence stretches before he speaks again, more quietly. “It’s...nice.”
Your brain fails you entirely. “Oh.”
You search desperately for something more intelligent to say, but his thumb is drawing feather-light circles over the soft skin of your wrist and your pulse is thundering in your ears. Those touches, so delicate from a man so strong, blur your thoughts like liquor and drag a confession from your lips before you can bite it back. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”
You wait, blessing the darkness that swallows your shame,  and hope he’s not going to tell you to pack your things and find a job in this bleak little skug hole for when he leaves you behind.
Instead, you feel the mattress shift and know he’s turned toward you.
The sudden fear of breaking Din’s creed is overwhelming, even in the dark. Instinct has you squeezing your eyes shut so tightly that white specks float behind your eyelids.
“I can’t see you,” you say quickly. “I promise.”
“I know.”
His thumb moves from your wrist across your palm, uncurling your fingers to map each one in turn, trailing up to the tips and back down again. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s touched anyone’s bare skin.
He sighs, which is nothing new, but this one doesn’t sound exasperated. It sounds almost...content. “Mesh’la,” he murmurs. “Beautiful girl. I thought so the first time I saw you.”
You’re overcome with a wild, childish urge to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.
His praise gives you a rush of courage to ask for something you’ve only dreamed of. “Din...can I touch you? Is it allowed?”
His only answer is to cradle your hand in his, bringing it to rest on his cheek.
Stubble prickles your palm as your fingers slowly trace his scruffy jawline and the thick column of his neck, savoring the feel of him. His hair is soft, long enough to curl at its nape, and when you comb your fingers through the tousled strands he makes a low, strangled sound in the back of his throat. It reverberates through your body like a bell, making your head swim with the thrill of affecting him.
You only just resist the urge to suck a mark into the spot where his pulse races under his warm skin.
Your greedy hands move on to discover a strong brow and the curved bridge of a prominent nose. A mustache frames lips that are more plush than you imagined, a note of sensuality in an angular, warrior’s face.
“Can you tell me what color your eyes are?” you ask, fingertips traveling over his cheekbone.
“Brown.”
Brown. You see them in your mind’s eye, soft and dark, expressing all the   things he doesn’t say out loud. Stroking his lower lip, you repeat his own word back to him: “Mesh’la.”
Din’s mouth twitches under your fingers. “You can’t see me.”
He has no idea. His body warming yours and the sweetness of his voice   calling you beautiful is everything you’ve ever wanted and thought yourself unworthy of having, and he thinks you’re only talking about his  face.
You cup his cheek, smile at him, even though he can’t see it. “I don’t need to, Din. I just know it. I always have.”
“You’re so good to me.” His hand catches yours in his large one, his voice   rough with some nameless emotion. “To me, and the baby. All the time.”
“You deserve everything good,” you whisper past the lump in your throat.
He’s caressing your hand again, holding it in place to press his lips to the pad of your thumb. “I want to kiss you, cyare.”
Your exhale is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Please.”
His hand moves to cradle your head as he closes the distance between you. If you were expecting him to pounce, you’re completely unprepared for him to linger, breath hovering over your lips for a long, agonizing moment as he brushes his nose over yours.
You’re almost startled by the first touch of his lips, a little chapped but warm and lush. His mustache is softer than you thought it would be, and so are his kisses, a series of slow, gentle presses of his mouth. Like he wants to do with his lips what you’ve done with your hands, sketching and learning.
It’s only when you slide your hand into his hair again that something inside him breaks. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you to the refuge of his broad chest as he slants his mouth over yours, claiming you in earnest. He’s possessive and tender in equal measure and the tease of  his tongue against yours, his teeth nipping your lower lip, the span of his hand on your back has you drunk on him and whispering his name between kisses like a prayer.
...Apparently not quietly enough.
A little hand scrabbling at your shoulder blade brings you out of your haze. As you pull away from Din the baby is climbing over you as quickly as his short limbs will let him. He wedges himself between the two of you with a delighted coo at Din, hands flailing to find his father’s face.
Din heaves a sigh, but there’s no malice in it. “I’m here, ad’ika,” he says, with unmistakable fondness. “We’re all here.”
You can’t stifle a breathless laugh as the baby snuggles into Din’s arms, making himself comfortable for the night.
Your Mandalorian surrenders good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around you with  the child tucked safely in the middle. He presses a kiss to your forehead before settling on the pillow beside you. “Sleep, cyare.”
Drowsiness is already fuzzing the edges of your mind again, but it catches on the word he’s said twice now. “What does that mean?” you murmur. “Cyare?”
You feel him smile against your temple, one last brush of his lips. “Share my bunk tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you.”
2K notes · View notes
graysonheller · 3 months ago
Text
When it came to relationships or anything resembling one Grayson had never fully taken the plunge, which to most people was a red flag when considering he'd recently crossed the bridge past thirty. It was likely a subconscious sabotage on his part when anytime he'd somewhat been seeing someone in the past that he let things fall apart. Grayson had always chalked it up to being too damaged and still in the thick of it, but then there was Damian who was familiar in that sense. It could've been why their friendship had worked so well and had stood the test of time and drug abuse, and how they'd maintained a connection through sobriety. But right now he was lost and confused, questioning everything that was and wasn't coming his way in regards to his friend.
The caress against his jaw, the display of affection, did little to distract him from the pensive state he'd fallen into. But he'd held Damian's eyes as his friend demanded by turning his head and listened. Just figuring it out as you go. That was the thing... generally Grayson was great at reading people. He had to be because his clients were rarely ever completely up front and honest so he'd had to become an expert at reading between the lines. It was just that Damian seemed more hot and cold and in and out than any of the people he'd been paid to defend. And it wasn't lost on Grayson that he may have been the cause of that. He was a broken soul, someone that since his mother had passed hadn't been shown how to love and open up properly.
Tactile in his search for comfort, Grayson found Damian's need soothing but also allowed his friend to mold him as needed as he worked to find the strength in putting his thoughts and feelings into words. If anyone could understand how difficult that was, it was likely himself. "I wish I could say it was fear for me. That I'm scared I'm not good enough to date anyone... for me it's more of a knowing," he said somewhat quietly. "I am all those things, yes," he smiled a little, his cockiness breaking through a smidge, "but so are you. It's just your natural inclination to self doubt and self hate that has you thinking otherwise." Somehow in the environment he'd been raised in that part had skipped Grayson. It could've been his pursuit of a law degree and the confidence it took to be a trial attorney that hadn't allowed for him to be that way. But maybe he'd just internalized it more than others and it came out in different ways. "I've never told you or even hinted in any way that you're not good enough for me... quite the opposite actually."
Listening as Damian went on and eventually found his way to his feelings and expressing what he wanted, Gray found himself going through a mix of emotions. Relief that his friend felt the same way, and fear that if they dated he'd ruin everything. That he'd somehow be the worst thing that ever happened to Damian. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been withholding and turned his head back to stare absently at the coffee table. Already in a nerve wracking confession he was failing to show up for his friend, but in truth he just needed a moment to process. "I need you to stop giving me outs," he said quietly, still fixed on the table in front of him, "it just creates doubt and I'm sorry that I'm demanding you to be sure of what you want and feel..." Grayson looked at Damian then, "but I don't want to be half in and half out." In fighting himself, he started to bounce his leg up and down. Anxiety had to work itself out in some way. "So... let's tell people we're dating then. But... that also means you have to let me take you on an actual date." Now, trying to find his humor and lighten up from the black hole he wanted to swan dive into... "No getting into my pants until after."
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth a little. "In case you ever question how special you are... I've never done this, with anyone, before." Which also meant if Damian broke his heart then there was no return.
Tumblr media
Watching as Grayson pulls himself back, all Damian can really do in the moment is bring his knees to his chest as he listens to his friend talk. His arms wrap around them, brows furrowed as he tries to understand the words — Grayson’s talking about being confused, admitting that he feels like Damian’s been playing games with him. And he — well, he doesn’t know what to say to that, for a moment. He hadn’t realized that’s what he’d been doing — in fact, he’d felt the opposite, like Grayson had been the one flip-flopping on him. But — he supposes there’s fault somewhere in between the two of them, for not establishing a clear line of communication. Damian thinks all they’ve been doing is reading in between the lines, gauging moods by glances and postures rather than actually saying what they mean.
But saying what he means is so — terrifying, Damian thinks. Because what if Grayson says no? What if Damian offers him a way forward together and he decides it’s not worth it with him? He watches as Grayson’s demeanor shifts from his usual-confident self into something more vulnerable, more open — his shoulder slump and his expression shows the slightest bit of resignation and then he avoids Damian’s gaze after admitting he feels like he can’t read him anymore, and he thinks: well. So what if it’s a no? He puts aside his own vulnerabilities, his own insecurities, and instead focuses on what he does better than most people — being a good friend.
He scoots himself closer to Grayson, hesitating for a moment before bringing a hand to turn his face back to meet Damian’s gaze. His thumb strokes his jaw softly as he searches Grayson’s expression. “I didn’t, uh,” he clears his throat. “I didn’t know you were feeling that way.” He licks his lips nervously. “I’m sorry that you were. I — I think I just thought—” he shrugs, smiling a little sadly. “I don’t know. Maybe you didn’t want to hear it anymore?” He huffs. “I don’t think you’re fucked up,” he confesses quietly, pressing his forehead against Grayson’s. “I think you’re — like me,” his smile softens. “Just figuring it out as you go.” His index finger traces the line of his jaw. “But maybe that’s not a good idea, when it comes to us. Because then it ends with us being all confused and shit.”
His hands trails down Grayson’s arms in comfort, turning his body over to face Damian’s. He takes his hands in his, then inhales deeply, trying to find whatever ounce of courage may exist in his body. “I’m scared I’m not good enough to date anyone,” he admits quietly. “And you are — larger than life to me,” he continues. “You’re smart, and you’re funny, and you're handsome, and you’re talented, and you’re you and I’m me, and so the thought that anyone like you might want someone like me is,” he shrugs. “Kind of impossible for me to fathom, y’know?
“So,” he licks his lips again. “If — uhm, if sleeping with me is all you want to keep doing, then, by all means, let’s,” he says. “But if — if a part of you — feels about me the way I feel about you,” he adds slowly, squeezing his hands. “Then you should know — I’m not playing games,” he tells Grayson. “I want — to be with you,” he chokes out as best he can through the lump of nerves in his throat. “And not just in the, let’s fuck exclusively kind of way, but in the, I want to tell people we’re dating kind of way,” he laughs lamely, face flamed in red. “But — again,” he pulls his forehead back. “I — you don’t have to want to,” he assures him. “We can — we can just keep being what we are, if that’s what you want. No hard feelings. I just want you to be okay,” he confesses. “Because, well — you’re my friend, first and foremost. And I care that you’re okay.”
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
clairecrive · 4 years ago
Text
“Voodoo doll” - Billy russo x reader
A/n: and here’s another one for Billy. I got the idea from a request I got for another character and I thought it perfectly fit Billy. As if Ben Barnes could ever be considered anything but beautiful, *scoff* please.
Warnings: a bit angsty, fluff though, jigsaw!billy, season 2 billy
Prompts(loosely): “Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re so
” 
(let me know if you want to be tagged to any of my writings)
Tumblr media
“Oh, hi you’re up.” You let yourself inside Billy’s hospital room smiling when you saw that the back of his bed was pushed up. He was sitting instead of lying down and that usually meant that he was awake. 
“How are you feeling today? The nurse outside told me that she gave you something for the pain but that everything is healing nicely.” Billy recovery looked like it was going to be long but after the impossibly long surgery you were just happy to see him alive and breathing. He didn’t look like he shared your optimism though. Granted, he was bound on a hospital bed, his body probably ached him all over and above all, his face was completely covered in bandages. It was the part that had taken most of the hits and Billy was one lucky bastard to even be in a hospital bed instead of being underground. That’s what the doctors had told you, at least.
Still, you could see how hard it was for him to see this whole situation in a positive way. It was taking its toll on him and you knew that no matter how many bruises and broken bones he had, his psychological health was the one which was in the worst shape.
You tried to offer him all the support you could. Sometimes that meant cheering him up with jokes and terrible puns, others simply required you to be next to him. 
Seems like it was one of those days because Billy stayed silent.
“Billy?” you tried again, setting your bag on the ground and taking your usual place by the side of his bed.
“What are you doing here, y/n?” His voice was hoarse from how little he used it these days but hadn’t lost that gruff edge that you loved so much.
“Visiting his majesty of course.”
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s a waste of time anyway.”
“Waiting for the bus for 20 minutes before they tell you that the run has been cancelled, now that is what I call a waste of time.” You complained recalling what had happened that morning.
Since you had entered his room, Billy hadn’t moved. Not that he could manage any big movement given the restraints they had put on him but at least he could move his head. It had been laying on his pillow up until now. He lifted it to try and look you into your eyes.
“I’m not your Billy anymore.”
“Why? Has anyone made their claim on you? Is that what this awful smell is? Your new playmate’s piss?”
Billy made a noise, it sounded a halfway between a laugh or a sob but since his head was covered in bandages, you couldn’t really tell. You hoped for the first, Billy had always loved your sense of humour- he had told you it was one of the reasons why he had noticed you- even if it consisted of terrible jokes. You thought they were hilarious, Billy thought you were adorable. Whatever.
“Listen, I can see how hard you’re taking this whole reversed beauty and the beast plot. But just so you know, I’m willing to let my facial hair grow if that makes you feel like a princess again.” You added on a more serious note, kinda, hoping to convince him that his face wasn’t the only thing you loved about him.
This time, the sound that left him was most definitely a sob. Startled, you didn’t know what to do. 
Could he even cry? Wouldn’t it mess up with his bandages? Why was he crying though? 
Still unsure on how to go about this, you reached for one of his bound hands only to see that it was tightly close in a fist. Your hand wrapped around his anyway, hoping that this small contact could soothe him in some way. 
Fuck, you must be really worse at this than you thought. You were trying to make him laugh and here he was crying.
“Billy?” you tried again in a whisper. 
All jokes aside, something must have happened this morning to make him feel this on edge. Had someone been rude to him? Well, he was a wanted person of course people weren’t going to respond to him like they did before. Billy couldn’t even count on his charm and good looks and you knew how good he was at using them to get what he wanted. 
Wait, could that be the problem? 
You thought about the best way to word the question when Billy spoke again, saving you from the embarrassment.
“I don’t think this is going to work.” Uh, what? Oh no no, he doesn’t get to do that.
“I agree, I’m not a fan of facial hair myself. We could buy you a tiara though. That is definitely going to do the trick.” Completely refusing to acknowledge his words, you kept going along with your previous joke.
“I’m serious y/n.” He insisted, his voice straightening to highlight his intent but still to no avail. Still clueless to it, he had laid on a silver platter your next pun.
“I thought your name was Billy, not Sirius. Wicked name though.” His hand tensed in your hold and you knew that he was getting angry.
“Would you stop joking around for one second? I’m trying to tell you that you shouldn’t waste your time around me.” His voice grew rougher, not exactly the high and strict tone he used to use at Anvil, but you could see he had strained his vocal cord to even attempt a stern voice.
 “I’m going to look like a butchered voodoo doll, forget the beast.” He added in a quieter voice. A confession laced with guilt.
“Oh Billy, don’t say that. You’re so much more than your looks, you know that. Besides, I’m sure you’re still going to be the one with the dashing looks of the relationship.” Your voice came out all wobbly and squeaky but you couldn’t help it, hearing Billy’s words, a far cry from the man he used to be made you emotional. You wanted nothing more than to help him but you didn’t know how. And here he was, trying to push you away.
“There’s no relationship, y/n.”
“I know that you’ve taken a big hit on your head, the doctor told me about your memory loss. It’s okay, they told me that some things are going to come back and you remembered my name when you woke up so that’s a good sign.”
Billy contemplated the idea of making up a story about him not remembering about you and come up with someway for how he knew you name when he first saw you after the incident but even though he wanted you to see his point, he couldn’t do that to you. 
He did remember you and he knew that the first part of your relationship had been based on lies. About his work, about his past, about his whereabouts when you asked him where he was going to late at night. 
He also remembered how that almost had cost him your relationship entirely.
Billy wasn’t one to make promises but he had made one to you. To at least try to be open and honest with you. There were still things that Billy didn’t talk to you about but this time around, instead of coming up with an excuse, he openly said that he couldn’t tell where or what he was doing . That, in the long run, had gained your trust back. You knew it was for your safety and that every time he told you you couldn’t know something, it was work-related.
And despite the fact that Billy was trying to self sabotage himself and your relationship, there was a part of him that didn’t want to see you go.
Yes, he still thought that you deserved more. Not only for his looks but for the things he knew he had done but couldn’t remember. If half the things he was accused of were true, then that didn’t make him a good person, did it?
“I do remember you. There is nothing more vibrant in my mind than my time with you. That’s not the problem.”
“Then I wholeheartedly refuse your attempt at breaking up. You can say whatever you want but I assure you it isn’t going to work.”
“I wish I could say that I did not remember you being this stubborn but we both know it would be a lie.”
“Oh, honey we both know that you enjoy it quite a bit when you want to.” You wriggled your eyebrows, trying and completely failing at making a suggestive face. You were successful, however, in making him laugh.
“Fuck don’t do that y/n, I can’t laugh.” he groaned, his head resting back on his bed.
“Well that is going to be a problem, ‘cause all I’m good at is being a huge cosmic joke.” You smiled at him, happy that he was finally done with all that nonsense he had just tried to pull. Instead, you dived into your back to show him what you had brought him.
It was his favorite comic book.
Apparently, a successful CEO of a security firm had an extensive collection of comic books which was also his most priced possession. The first time he had come around after the surgery, he had asked about them. He was worried that in searching his place for clues and whatnot the police had ruined it or something. You couldn’t see his face but the long sigh he let out when you told him that you had taken care of it personally looked a lot like relief.
What were hundreds of expensive tailored suits in comparison?
You started reading one of his favorite ones, including a very poor but very engaging representation of every sound of action in the story which made Billy smile under all those bandages. He felt like the luckiest voodoo doll in the world.
348 notes · View notes
namachuki · 3 years ago
Note
Side you've got him on the brain, how about telling me about your whipped cream hcs. I'd also love to hear your hcs for vampire cookie and cinnamon cookie(one of my personal favs)
So my headcanons aren't really headcanons but scenarios and the way I write out the character is what you can use to infer how I actually make them act lmao
Anyways sorry this is long idk how to split on mobile
TW:// Dark themes / Depression / Self neglect / Self destructive behavior
Tumblr media
Whipped Cream-
A ballerino with a passion, since a child they longed to dance to their heart's content. Constantly praised for their gifted performances Whip desired more. No one seemed to master a dance any faster, quicker, and with such defined grace than the ballet prodigy known to be Whipped cream. Fueled by the praise of those around them, Whipped had to seek for more, to fully be recognized for their natural talent and skill. It wasn't until he was denied entry to a show, told that he just did not meet the skill level required. Confused and unbelieving, Whipped exclaimed that was a mistake, no one before has ever been better than him. Hardly did he even have to try to best his peers, but when he was brought to see the skill the dancers need to have to even try out, he was left with a lump in his throat. This only fueled the boy further, no longer was training just a pass time but a necessary requirement if he wanted to prove his worth as a dancer. Nonstop practice, frequent performances, and constant studying became Whip's norm. Each performance only dissatisfied him more at the idea he would be denied for not meeting expectations. Other scheduled performances were meet with messy footing and rushed to all means, no longer did they serve Whip importance as he felt these roles weren't worth it.
It came as a shock to no one Whip had exhausted himself to beyond belief, frustration and dissatisfaction are draining when no break is given to tend to them. The most important performance he had trained for was one of the worst he's ever done and only after realizing he was the one to blame, this self sabotage. He had to take a minute to reflect this was an outcome of unachieved potential he didn't dare indulge in from the praise he mistook as truth. And only after canceling everything and taking a break, did he allow himself months later to stand back up and stretch for the mornings warm up.
Tumblr media
Vampire
Vampire is always described as a good for nothing drunk. Always will you find him tipsy to some extent and even when he's sober he hardly ever seems to be from his own willingness. Truth be told he much rather be left alone and bask in the refreshing beverage that is a cold glass of wine. Or is so what he makes himself believe. Vampire always had a bitter taste in his mouth when sober, an uncomfortable feeling would always creep on to him that he couldn't explain well, something just poking at him that he couldn't be bothered to deal with. A simple solution he found to ignore it was to drink, if he was too wasted to awknowledge it then he would be safe. Sure it may have made his sister drift further away from him, sure it made the people around him only further think less of him, but if it could stop him from feeling than maybe it was fine. This was the only way for him to not let the affects of eternal loneliness get the better of him... But sometimes it isn't enough, even when drunk and he stares at the glass in-between his hands, a ringing sensation begins to creep it's way into his ears. A sudden wave of somberness is washed over him and he notices the wine in his glass is being disturbed, and is shocked to see it's because his hands are trembling. He looks around, irritated, wondering where the ringing is coming from. However, nothing is there, nothing is there to disturb him or cause any noise. Nothing... Nothing is there... He is alone...
Alone...
Of course he's alone, this a feeling he should be used to by now.
Yet, he can't help but feel upset, a lump forms in his throat as he clenches the glass with a tighter grip before chugging it down as fast as he can. If he can't think, then he can't feel. A simple rule he intends to follow.
32 notes · View notes
nobodyfamousposts · 4 years ago
Text
Missing - Part 4.1
Remember the something bad coming I mentioned before?
This is that.
Fencing practice the next day had been a bit more intense. Fortunately, Kagami had been a perfect opponent to go all out with. She seemed to notice his emotional state and reacted in kind. Which he appreciated, certainly. Adrien had needed to work off the stress and anxiety from the previous incident with Lila.
It hadn’t helped that Plagg had also been unusually agitated that morning. He wouldn’t say what was going on, but he had told Adrien that they needed to see Master Fu immediately.
Plagg...had never gotten like that. Adrien didn’t understand what was going on, but whatever it was, it seemed quite serious. So he had bit back any complaint about the early morning or his schedule and attempted to reach Master Fu by phone. Unfortunately, it had gone to voicemail after several rings, and they couldn’t be sure if it was that Fu had been asleep or otherwise occupied. While Adrien had offered to find time to go to Fu’s place that day once there was a break in his schedule, Plagg insisted that whatever was going on couldn’t wait, and had decided to go to the man’s home himself.
Adrien wasn’t about to refuse Plagg if he felt it was truly necessary to go, but he felt anxious without his kwami and he still wasn’t back yet. He only hoped that there wouldn’t be another akuma attack before he returned.
He hoped everything was okay

But at least Kagami was there. Both to challenge him physically and to support him when he explained what happened afterwards.
“So you came clean to them?“ Kagami asked, seated on a bench in the locker room as she listened to Adrien talk about what had happened.
He nodded, coming back to the present and admittedly still somewhat shaken from the entire ordeal the day before. “They deserved to know.“
“And how did they take it?“ While he certainly warranted some reprimand for the poor decision he had made on the matter, he did not deserve to be ostracized or blamed for the mess. Lila’s actions were her own, and while each of them held responsibility for their part in falling for her manipulations and the weakness that allowed her to get as far as she did, ultimately Lila was the only one to blame for her actions. With everything so recent and still so raw, the last thing they needed to have happen was for someone else to be made a scapegoat, which was still a possibility now that Lila was no longer present to take the brunt of their anger. Kagami knew the class was made of generally kind souls, but people could do regretful things in anger.
She for one was not inclined to sit by and allow him to be made into the villain for a situation he was not fully responsible for, and her tightening grip on her foil was indicative of that.
“They weren’t happy with me. They still aren’t. And I don’t blame them, really.“ He admitted. He had been kicking himself ever since his initial talk with Nino for...a lot of reasons, really. Having friends really helped with getting insight and other perspectives. And helped him notice things he hadn’t before.
“But what it comes down to is that even if we knew or suspected that Lila wasn’t being honest, none of us truly realized the depths of just how manipulative she could be.” Not until it was all laid out for them at any rate.
“Even when she snuck into your house and sent out that picture?“ Kagami asked, keeping her voice level.
He winced at the memory of the cause of her akumatization. But still...
“That was rotten of her, and I warned her afterwards.” He took a breath, realizing that his school friends hadn’t been the only ones hurt because of this. This just served as another reminder of his failure to act. “I should have done more then. I’m sorry, Kagami.”
She frowned, not necessarily pleased, but not angry either. “What was the reasoning then?” She asked. Because even if she didn’t agree with it, she knew he at least had some view that led to the choice he made.
He winced. “Honestly, that was the sort of thing I would see of a more extreme fangirl. But lying to police to try and keep someone from getting help is a whole new level of low. And one I thought she actually would not stoop to.” He frowned, looking up at Kagami. “Does that make me foolish?”
“Yes.” She replied bluntly. “You at least knew that she was capable of underhanded things. And when you know a tiger’s stripes, you should know what to expect.”
He winced and looked away, guiltily. “I know. Or—I didn’t? I just...”
She decided to take pity on him.
“That said,” She added, drawing his attention back to her. “While you may know a tiger’s stripes, that does not necessarily mean you would be able to see them in the wild.”
He smiled bitterly. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”
“Yes.” She admitted bluntly. “But that doesn’t make me wrong.”
He sighed. “I still should have done something then. I knew she was capable of bad things. There was no excuse for not warning anyone at least.” He gave a sad laugh. “I can’t even imagine how Marinette must have felt when I told her to leave things alone.”
Adrien hesitated, coming to a realization.
“I think I’ve been doing that a lot...” He admitted. “I did the same thing to her when it came to Chloe when she was being her worst.”
“I cannot speak regarding Chloe.” Kagami stated, and she couldn’t given her limited interaction with the bratty daughter of the mayor. Anything she had to say about the girl would likely be far from helpful and only get them off track. “But if I may ask...why keep putting it on Marinette then when you knew she wasn’t in the wrong?“
He shrugged, despondent and uncertain.
“I just felt safer with her.” He answered.
He was used to being friends with Chloe. Where he had been expected to give her what she wants. Whether it was completing whatever task she demanded of him or tell her what she wanted to hear.
Telling her what she wanted to hear...even if it wasn’t true.
But Marinette...
“I knew Marinette would listen to me. And she’s been good with reaching out and giving chances.”
When two parties were arguing, one of them needed to be willing to offer an olive branch if they were to reconcile and make things better. But so far, Marinette was the only one he could see in that role. The only one capable of it, to be honest.
Heaven knew how often she intervened for their classmates. She’d stood up for them, but she had also been willing to put her own feelings aside to come to a compromise. After all, she had helped Chloe more than once. Even in spite of everything Chloe had done.
“My thoughts were that if I could get Marinette to listen and agree, others would follow suit. And there could be compromise. But that was an unfair burden to keep putting on her and I ignored that there were times she shouldn’t have had to be the one to reach out first. And when Lila came along
”
He shrugged, helplessly.
“In a weird way, I thought I was supporting her by encouraging her to not fight back.”
That turned out to be a mistake. One that had hurt everyone.
It was never that she didn’t matter as much as anyone else, or that she was less important than keeping the peace. It was just that out of everyone, she was the only one who would take that first step and he knew that. He knew it wasn’t fair to keep putting such responsibility on her. But there was no one else he could count on to help or mediate things. And he just didn’t want the class to fall apart.
He kept telling himself he would make it up to her and that he would support her when she needed it, but he wasn’t the most observant of people and Marinette always seemed so strong, like she’d never needed his help.
“I wasn’t being fair to her.“
The fact that he knew Marinette could handle things did not necessarily mean that she should be expected to be the one to have to, or that he should expect her to.
Kagami hummed to her self, thinking for a moment.
“Did you consider that the longer Lila Rossi was allowed to continue on, the more hurt other people would be once her lies were revealed?“
He winced.
“Or did you think they would be revealed at all?“
He sighed and slowly nodded. “At the start, her lies seemed frivolous and only meant to make herself look better. I had figured that either she would get comfortable and stop, or that people would lose interest in listening to her.”
She nodded, considering. “It was a reasonable assumption, albeit an erroneous one.“
He looked away and nodded. “It was a mistake on my part for assuming that much. I wanted to believe that people can get better and learn from their mistakes. And I keep wanting to give second chances, even in situations where I really shouldn’t.”
He knew now that Lila went beyond that.
“Why I let it happen was a combination of a lot of reasons really. I thought she would quit on her own. I thought people would get tired of listening to her. I thought that she would come clean herself. I thought, if nothing else, people would catch on to her lies. I had so many reasons behind my decision, but at the end of the day, it was the choice I made and I will never know what would’ve happened if I had simply told someone sooner. Maybe this could’ve been avoided.”
“But there’s no point lingering on the possibilities of different decisions now that the moment for them has passed.“ She pointed out.
He gave her a slight smile at that. “Yeah. While we all feel bad about it, wallowing in that isn’t going to change anything at this point. We’ve decided to keep our focus on trying to find Marinette. And if nothing else, the reveal of Lila will ensure she can’t sabotage our efforts anymore.”
“Has there been any luck?“
“Alya said she found something. Nino and I are going to talk to her tonight to go over what she’s learned. Maybe she found something that could help?“
“How are things with them?” She asked.
“They’re doing all right. Better than they were with Lila around. The others were really forgiving.” More than he honestly felt he deserved.
Kagami seemed satisfied with that. “They are good friends. If you try to talk to them, they will listen.”
He frowned, a bit frustrated but it seemed to be mostly with himself. “I know.”
She rested a hand on his shoulder. “If there’s something wrong, or if something is troubling you, then you should be free tocommunicate it. If nothing else, it can allow you to get a second opinion on a Point of concern. And in many cases you can share information that other people may not know.“
He smiled at her gratefully.
She smiled back.
“One of the common mistakes in fencing is to hesitate and miss an opportunity to act. Once the moment is over, it’s too late. But if nothing else, you at least have the knowledge for next time.”
“I know.” He agreed. “It’s why I want to help find Marinette. I want to be able to apologize to her in person
and reassure her that things will be better now.”
He clenched his fists.
“She deserves that much, at least.”
Because she was

To him she was

Kagami nodded in understanding.
“Marinette is a good friend.” She stated. “If there is any way I could help, I would like to try.”
He smiled.
“Thank you, Kagami.”
______________________
Another day came with another search party. The available classmates gathered in another attempt to try to locate their missing friend. Unfortunately, life goes on even when it feels like the world should stop turning. As such, not all of them were able to make it this day.
Adrien had fencing, and with his hectic schedule and strict expectations, he couldn’t afford to keep missing appointments or he’d lose any freedom to help in the search. Max was busy with a project and was thus unable to join the group on what was steadily becoming a new after school activity of searching the city for any clues. Nathaniel needed to do chores and help his dad at home. Mylene wasn’t feeling well and nobody wanted to risk her coming down with a cold or other illness. Kim had swim practice followed by a date, and it didn’t feel fair to make him give up something positive that made him happy on a search that would likely leave them all feeling drained and depressed.
Chloe was...well, Chloe. And while she had been surprisingly willing to step up and pull a major victory against Lila when it mattered, that one good deed didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t still her usual self absorbed self. And it certainly didn’t mean that she was willing to traverse around Paris in the cold for who knows how long on behalf of someone she has expressed nothing but dislike for. She made it clear she would be spending her afternoon in warmth and comfort.
Sabrina, naturally, went with her. Though she had wished the group luck with their search.
This left Alya and Nino, along with the members of Kitty Section for the search. To Alya’s surprise, this meant they were joined by Luka as well.
“Luka? You helping out as well?” Nino greeted.
Luka hefted his guitar on his back and nodded. “ I heard you were looking and I wanted to help out anyway I could.”
In normal circumstances, Alya would be gleeful at the show of concern by a cute guy for her friend and the sign of at least one of her ships moving forward. But as sweet as the gesture was, it was really just a reminder of the fact that her friend was still missing, so whatever joy she felt was short-lived.
She shivered.
Chloe did have a point though. As it was getting later into the year, the days were getting colder. It only made her all the more concerned that her friend could be out on the streets in winter.
It was all the more reason to find her sooner. And she straightened, bringing out her phone and planning to do just that.
Alya had spent most of the night and well into the early hours of the morning going through the data Max gave her regarding Marinette’s phone.
What she found was....strange.
The phone itself was gone. Possibly turned off. However, the signal was still there. It was blurry. Seemingly fading in and out, inconsistent, and frequently moving. But it was there.
The data showed the status of Marinette’s phone and its location over the past weeks. Which was
weird, to say the least. The signal was abnormally weak. And didn’t seem to stick to one set location which she would have expected if the phone had been lost. No, if anything, it seemed to be...almost roaming?
Which didn’t make sense. If she was kidnapped, the kidnappers surely would have tossed the phone. And if it had just been left somewhere while being left on, it still should have run out of battery by now.
Instead, it just...sort of kept cutting in and out at random. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it.
But what had caught Alya’s attention was just when and where this strange status first started, which she had decided would be the location of their search for the day.
The others followed her, letting her lead the way while they chatted amicably with one another. Alya only half paid attention to what they were saying, her focus primarily on her phone and the map it was showing.
“It’s getting colder out, huh?”
“Anyone want to grab a hot chocolate after this? Maybe just as a pick me up after the search?”
“That sounds nice! What do you think, Juleka?”
“I’m in.”
“Hey Luka, is it really a good idea to bring your guitar out here for this?“
“It helps me think. And besides, you never know when it might be needed.“
“I guess.”
Alya, for her part, only half minded the conversation behind her as she led the group to the last known location of Marinette’s phone before it started doing...this. This strange fuzzy image that didn’t seem to be all there.
Unfortunately, the map icon was only able to narrow down the location so much. She was able to find the general area Marinette had been in last, but the specific place...
She looked around.
Strangely, the map led her to a somewhat out of the way area. It was a normal street. Shops of various kinds were lined up along the sidewalk. There wasn’t much that stood out. This was a simple district with no real landmarks. There was no real draw. No tourist attractions. No fabric stores either to garner Marinette’s interest.
So why come here? What had she been doing? And where did she go?
“Does anything stick out to you guys?” Alya asked as she glanced around, trying to find anything that could indicate where Marinette had been.
The others started looking around as well, but for all intents and purposes, it was just a plain street. The split up amongst themselves to go into the shops and ask around for clues. But none of the stores seemed like places where Marinette would go. And none of the workers inside had seen her. Though if they had, there was no way for her to have stood out to them enough for them to recall her weeks later.
“Not with the akuma attack, anyway.” One clerk stated. “It was a distance away, sure, but still close enough that we all shut down and hid out in our stores.”
Alya had nodded in understanding. Because honestly, while Ladybug and Chat Noir did a great job stopping the akumas, the fights could take them all over Paris in the span of an hour. Even if a battle was on the other side of the city, there was no telling where they would end up by the end.
She thanked the man for his time and left the store. Nothing she didn’t already know, but still, any information was useful. Something about it had nagged at her, though, so she wrote it in her notes all the same.
“Any luck?” Ivan asked, causing her to look up at the assembled group. Nino had been chatting with Ivan while Luka had taken to strumming on his guitar while they waited. Rose and Juleka were talking to someone at a nearby kiosk, possibly to purchase one of the charms.
Alya shook her head, regretfully. “Nothing on my end. At least not anything new. How about you?”
The boys shook their heads sadly. Alya couldn’t help the disappointment at that.
“Do you think there’s something we missed?” Ivan asked, trying to be hopeful.
Luka frowned, playing a few notes on his guitar, a bit harshly in apparent agitation. It was probably his method of coping, Alya rationalized. A part of her wished she had some reassurance to give him, but she was feeling despondent herself. Whatever boost she had gotten from seeing justice served with Lila was starting to falter, and she didn’t know how much hope she’d be able to hold on to for her best friend.
“Hey guys!” Rose came running over, looking excited. Juleka followed along silently behind her at a somewhat slower but still faster than usual pace. “That guy selling charms said he saw Marinette that day!”
That got their attention as everyone perked up.
“Really?”
“Where?”
“It was right before the akuma attack.” Rose explained, practically bouncing as she told them. “She was looking at the charms at his kiosk and mumbling about different designs for them, so they had gotten to talking a bit.” She frowned, looking concerned. “But then they heard the akuma alert. The owner was shutting down his kiosk but pointed out the direction he saw Marinette run.”
Juleka reached out, pointing towards a gap between two particular stores. “In there.”
Alya turned to look. The stores in question were both the tallest buildings on the street, standing at four stories with a clear alleyway between them. They didn’t have much in the way of decorations, but with the awnings and balconies, did appear to provide cover. Maybe Marinette had hid in there during the fight?
The alleyway itself was empty. Other than a fire escape on one side, a dumpster, and a fence blocking the way through, there didn’t seem to be much else of notice. And the dumpster had to have been cleaned out in the weeks since Marinette’s disappearance.
Nino heaved a sigh of relief when Alya told him this before he could attempt to dumpster dive for clues. He wanted to find Marinette, sure. And he certainly would have been willing to loot a dumpster for her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.
The group spread out along the alley, continuing to search for clues. While not searching within the dumpster itself, Nino and Ivan had gone so far as to lift the dumpster enough for Rose to do a quick search beneath for anything. Juleka checked the fence for any holes or ways through. Luka stood near the entrance to the alley as a lookout in case anyone noticed them, absently picking at notes on his guitar.
Alya, for her part, tried to check the fire escape. Was it reachable from the ground? No, it was at least a story up and the ladder leading to it wasn’t lowered if it was even there at all. Maybe if Marinette had stood on the dumpster? Hmm...what if there was a way to check for height on her map?
She pulled out her phone
And immediately froze.
There, on her phone’s map, was a blinking, fuzzy icon. The one that had been indicating Marinette. At some point without realizing it, she had switched from the image of Marinette’s last placement to the current. She saw her own indicator with her picture, as well as those of her other friends with her.
But amidst her searching, the icon symbolizing Marinette’s current location on her map had been moving.
It was moving here.
And suddenly...
It had stopped.
It...was here.
Marinette...it said she was here.
Alya froze.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t even move her body from her spot. At most, she was able to move her eyes, searching wildly for any trace of her best friend.
But...nothing.
Why was it saying she was here?
“Marinette?!”
All other sound ceased. The others turned to her, but she didn’t even notice because it was here! The signal was right here! Marinette was here!
But
she wasn’t.
It was just herself. Just Alya. Just Nino. Just Luka and Rose and the rest of Kitty Section. Just them. Just random people passing by on the street.
No Marinette.
But

A quick glance to the phone showed it was still there. So Marinette had to be here, right?
But why?
Alya looked around frantically, calling out in desperation.
“MARINETTE?!”
Silence.
A few strange looks from the people nearby.
Not even her friends dared to speak.
And on her phone, the icon symbolizing Marinette’s signal started to fade and drift away.
Alya stared at the icon. Wishing it back.
“Babe
” Nino tried, approaching her cautiously. “What was that?”
She bit her lip.
“I
don’t know?”
______________________
Oh.
The music stopped.
Whatever strands of melody and lingering echoes of the tune had since faded from the rooftop where she stood.
It had been a beautiful melody. Something gentle and kind in its own way. And while she knew better than to take a break, she had a strange inclination to listen to the sweet yet heartbreaking tune while it lasted.

it just hadn’t lasted very long.
The loss felt
sad, in a way. She couldn’t help but feel that it had been cut off all too soon.
And the silence bothered her.
It seemed
stifling, almost.
She shook it off.
It was time to go anyway. She had spent too much time here as it was. And she still needed to
do whatever it was she was here to do. Continue searching the city. Keep an eye out for any akumas. Be useful. Stay busy.
Until she could go back to wherever she had been before, at least.
She sighed and threw her yo-yo. As she approached the edge of the building, she allowed the low murmur of background noise and city life to erase that gnawing emptiness. She swung off, leaving the sounds of shouting behind her. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound important.
Back to work.
______________________
Evening came all too slowly for Adrien. The rest of the day seemed to drag on and made him all that much more eager for the end of school. And wasn’t that an irony that he actually wanted to be out of school for once?
But the only thing he was more eager about than school was his friends. And Alya seemed to think she had a lead on Marinette. If she had anything, he wanted to know. If there was even a chance, he’d happily take it if it meant getting to see her again.
Unfortunately, their differing schedules made meeting difficult. Alya had wanted to share her info with Nino, and knowing how affected Adrien was by everything, Nino had insisted Adrien be there as well. But Adrien had practice and lessons after school. And Nino and Alya both had obligations at their respective homes.
It had been decided that they would do a phone chat later in the evening. After Nino and Alya’s younger siblings were put to bed and when Adrien’s schedule was clear.
He was practically vibrating out of his chair with nervousness the longer he waited for their video chat.
“Boo!”
So much so that he actually fell out of his chair when Plagg returned.
“Plagg! Where have you been?!” Adrien demanded as he pushed himself up. He was of course happy that he had returned, but really!
The kwami snickered at Adrien’s expression. Could anyone blame him? That was hilarious.
...but back on point, Plagg remembered his news and quickly got serious.
“I couldn’t find the Guardian.”
Adrien’s eyes widened. “Did something happen to him?”
Plagg shrugged. “I don’t know. He could just be out running errands or something. We’ll need to try again.”
“I could try calling him now.” Adrien suggested. If he had just been busy when he tried before, then surely it would be all right to try again to reach him now? And as long as he had his phone, Fu should be able to get his call. Though in that case, Fu should already have known about his earlier call, right?
Adrien bit his lip in worry. So much had been happening lately. Marinette disappeared. The whole thing with Lila. Ladybug was...apparently in a bad mood for some reason. Now Plagg was agitated and they couldn’t reach Master Fu.
He took a breath to steady himself. They weren’t sure Fu was actually unreachable yet. He needed to call him first. And if that didn’t work, he could have Plagg lead him to the man’s place to check up on him.
Still...he couldn’t help the anxiety he was feeling, and it only seemed to be getting worse.
BRIIIIIING!
“AAH!”
As was evident when he panicked at the sudden alarm from his phone. So much so that it took him three tries to grab the phone as he kept dropping it due to his frantic fumbling. Ignoring Plagg’s commentary, he looked to the screen and saw it was a video call request from Alya.
Oh right. The video chat with Nino and Alya. It was supposed to start now. He had just gotten distracted.
He took a breath and answered the call.
“Hey! Hi! Hello! Glad you made it!”
Honestly, he could have smacked himself.
Somewhere off to the side, Plagg was snickering. On the video, both Alya and Nino seemed to be smiling at how frazzled he appeared. Adrien himself was much less amused.
“Did you find anything?” He asked, only partly to distract from himself.
Mostly because he was hoping for some news. That their excursion earlier had been successful. That they’d found something on their friend. Preferably the friend in question.
But their downhearted expressions told him the answer before they even had to say anything. The explanation that followed was short but detailed, and only seemed to further his confusion. Given their expressions, Adrien was sure that Alya and Nino were in the same boat.
“It was the weirdest thing...” Alya trailed off in a mutter.
“I’ll say.” Nino added with a laugh. “You were kind of freaking out. We all panicked when you started shouting.”
In any other instance, Alya might have been offended. As it was, though, she was quiet. Remaining deep in thought and seemingly oblivious to her boyfriend’s attempt to distract from her.
But Adrien noticed.
“Alya? What’s up?”
A moment of silence followed as she attempted to gather her thoughts.
Then...
“I have a theory.“ Alya started, looking apprehensive.
Adrien perked up. “A theory? What of?”
Nino, for his part, found in realization. “Does this have to do with what happened earlier?“
She nodded. “I’d been following her cell phone signal. After
” She hesitated for a second. “Well, when I was Lady Wifi, I managed to track Marinette’s phone signal and that same signal is on my phone now. But something isn’t right about it.”
She lifted her phone to the screen so Adrien could see what she meant. Sure enough, there was Marinette’s icon active on the map, but...it looked strange. Distorted. He struggled to tell that it was Marinette’s picture there at all.
“It’s been like this for a while. I’ve never seen any case like this, and there are no reports online of anything similar. Plus given how it’s been moving around
” She pulled her phone back and shrugged. “I think magic may be involved.”
Adrien straightened. “So you think she might have been akumatized?”
She shrugged. “Near as I can figure.“
Nino frowned. “But that doesn’t make sense. Hawk Moth can only akumatize one person at a time.“
Well, that wasn’t quite true, Adrien realized. There had been the Scarlet Moth incident when he had caused a mass akumatization with that illusion. Then it happened again that time Marinette had been expelled thanks to Lila’s schemes.
He bit back the rush of resentment and guilt at the memory to focus.
Could Hawk Moth akumatize more than one person at once? There had been the young twins who became Sapotis and when Alya and Nino became Oblivio, but those were cases where two people were essentially one akuma. And even in the case of multiple active akuma like the time Lady WiFi, Reflecta, and Princess Fragrance came after him thanks to his cousin, they all still only shared one akuma. Purifying that had been enough to restore all three, and in this case, he and Ladybug had already done that. So if that was the case, Marinette should have been restored as well, even if they hadn’t fought her.
“Could he have made Lady WiFi if Marinette was already an akuma?” Adrien asked.
“He’s akumatized more than one person at once though. There was the incident with the scarlet butterflies. And then there were also the time with my sisters.” Alya argued, remembering the same incidents Adrien had.
“And when Adrien’s jerk of a cousin caused you, Rose, and Juleka to be akumatized.” Nino added.
Alya groaned. “We just don’t know the extent of Hawk Moth’s power.”
Adrien nodded at that. Of course it was possible that Hawk Moth had discovered some new ability. But his power seemed to follow certain rules and have at least some limitations, so it didn’t make sense that he could suddenly do this.
Or why, for that matter? Hawk Moth did show some capability for planning—Scarlet Moth was proof of that. But what could he possibly gain from keeping Marinette as an akuma for this long?
But...hadn’t he targeted her before?
Adrien bit his lip.
There was too much uncertainty.
He sent a glance to Plagg, who saw his look and shook his head in response. The kwami looked particularly annoyed at the current train of the discussion. Clearly they were on the wrong track.
Adrien took a breath. “I don’t think that’s it. If it was Hawk Moth, what would be the purpose? We all know Marinette is gone now and would be looking for anything that could be behind it. If he had the ability to akumatize multiple people back to back, why use it like this? It doesn’t add up.”
“I don’t know if it is that Hawk Moth akumatized her.” Aly admitted. “It’s just that it has to be magic. There’s no other way to explain it. I mean, it’s not just Marinette that’s gone. Her cellphone
” She hesitated. “It isn’t stable. It’s there, but...not? And she was there today. I know she was.”
She had to give Max credit for his capabilities. The data was extensive and thorough despite the clear limits. And quite advanced. She hadn’t known it was possible to get as much data as he had, or even that it existed. But it was helpful to her search, and that was the important thing. With it, she was able to glean information. And slowly, a timeline started to form.
As did a theory.
“So her phone signal is still there, but she isn’t. And it’s been like this since...“
Since Marinette went missing.
The same day she disappeared, the biggest thing that happened that day was—
“The akuma.” Alya whispered. She frowned as she switched her browser on her computer to the Ladyblog and started looking through the archived footage and documentation of that attack.
There was an akuma attack that day. Someone feeling forgotten and overlooked was given the power to erase others.
She had watched a video of one such unfortunate victim. The poor guy didn’t even have a chance to wince at being hit. He just vanished the instant the attack made contact.
“But if Marinette was akumatized,” Nino continued, “why would Hawk Moth even make an akuma like that? If she’s not doing anything other than making herself disappear...that’s not useful for him, is it?”
Alya frowned, looking over the data again. “It’s not, no.”
Adrien also wasn’t convinced. From Plagg’s expression, it seemed he had some idea, though now wasn’t the time to press him. He’d have to wait until after the call was over. “It’s also much quieter, isn’t it? Every akuma up until now has been immediate and noticeable, otherwise Ladybug and Chat Noir wouldn’t know to come out and fight it, and Hawk Moth wouldn’t have a chance to target their Miraculous. The only exception was when Sabrina was akumatized the first time to be invisible, and even that was only for a couple of days.”
Nino shrugged but appeared to agree with him. “It’s been a couple of weeks since Marinette disappeared. If it was an akuma, wouldn’t we have noticed one by now? Akumas are generally fueled by emotions. They aren’t subtle.”
Alya looked back at her phone, reviewing the timeline. “But if she isn’t an akuma herself, then the only other option I can think of is that she was hit by that erasure akuma last month.” She shook her head, incredulous. “But that can’t be right. The Miraculous Cure would have brought her back, wouldn’t it?”
So caught in the discussion between his friends, Adrien didn’t see how Plagg looked stricken.
“It’s never failed before.” Nino stated.
“But what else could explain the state of her phone signal? It should either be there or not at all.
Adrien paused, tilting his head thoughtfully.  “That’s not normal.” He agreed.
“It does indicate that whatever happened to Marinette, it must be magical. And the only one with any sort of power along those lines would be Hawk Moth.”
“But why?”
She sighed.
“I guess that’s the question, isn’t it?”
None of them noticed Gabriel standing outside the door. Or the expression of dawning horror.
________________
Gabriel felt numb in a way he never thought he had been before.
The missing Dupain-Cheng girl? An akuma?
No. That was impossible.
Even if he was capable of akumatizing more than one person at a time outside of the Scarlet Moths, he would still have known. He would have made contact with her. And from his experience with his powers, he would have a link to the girl.
There was nothing.
But the only other explanation

An official victim of an akuma attack. Someone that the Cure didn’t bring back.
How was it possible?
He entered the office in a daze. Nathalie followed him closely  in worry, but he barely took notice. He just shut the door quietly behind him once they had both entered, then leaned against it. He felt shaky. Off balance.
He had gone to his son’s room to see if he had access to any of the pictures or footage from the fashion show. Or if that journalist friend of his still had her video. Just...anything.
Audrey had called him in such a rage that day. Somehow, the shipments of her latest issue of Style Queen never made it out. Her attempt to recover the issue failed due to multiple holes and entire blank pages where pictures and articles should have been. So she had reached out to him through Nathalie, demanding his involvement and taking his attention away from his duties as Hawk Moth. At the time, he had begrudged her the missed opportunity at another akumatization.
But now

“That can’t be right.” He murmured to himself. How could this be? How was this even possible?
“Sir?”
“The blank pages and missing pictures were those of myself and my son, as well as any of my son in that hat.”
“The one from the contest?” Nathalie asked, uncertainly.
“Made by a Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A girl who it seems is also missing. And has been for some time
”
He looked to his computer, wondering if he could pull up the information or if that would be gone as well. He had thought it a simple error at first, but the more he searched, the less he found. And now, after hearing his son’s conversation...what else could it be?
“But the Miraculous Cure restores everything.” He continued, almost monotone. “That’s what it does. That’s how it works.”
She hesitated.
“Maybe
not this time?”
He felt unsteady as he made his way to his desk. Perhaps he actually was, as Nathalie had quickly moved to his side to help him to his chair. Given how he felt, he could only assume he probably looked ready to fall over.
“Sir?”
It
it shouldn’t have happened. The Miraculous Cure always undid any damage of the akuma battles. It rebuilt any damaged or destroyed property. Healed injuries. Brought people back from any sort of unwelcome fate. It restored people from being half-melted ice cream sculptures, for crying out loud!
For anyone to have just
NOT been saved was unheard of.
Gabriel had thought he had been prepared for this. But now that he was actually experiencing it, he was
left shaken...
He had known going in that casualties would be a very real possibility, but had reassured himself. It was for the greater good. His family was worth it. Everything would work out in the end. He could just use the Wish to change the world and make it so that none of this had ever happened.
And then Ladybug had appeared with the power to restore things and he was only further convinced. There wouldn’t be any long term damage. No one would be really harmed. Whatever happened could be fixed.
No one would die.
It became almost like a game. He could go all out with little concern for the consequences. If he lost, Ladybug would just use her Cure to fix everything and he would get another chance to try again. And if he won, he could correct things himself.
As such, he ceased to worry about the “what if’s” and focused solely on his goal.
But now a child was gone. As good as dead. Possibly worse.
And this time, magic wouldn’t bring her back.
For not the first time since he had started on this path, Gabriel wondered if it was worth it.
Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng was an aspiring designer who showed great promise. From his limited interactions with her, he could see she had passion—both for her art and in her life. He had been impressed with what he had seen of her capability, and her level of care for his son was secret only to Adrien himself.
And now she was gone.
And Adrien
his own son was suffering for it.
He had heard from Nathalie how Adrien had been worried for her. How he had gone so far as to go out and search for her in some futile hope of finding her. How he had held onto that hope, trying to reassure himself each day that she would return safely.
Adrien
truly cared about this girl.
He wondered if it was any different to how he felt about Emilie?
What would he think if he learned the truth? If he discovered who Hawk Moth really was? If he knew his father was the reason his friend had been erased.
It was
too much.
Was this a sign?
Was this an indicator that he was going too far?
He should stop. Before more people were hurt. Before his son discovered the truth. He should

He should stop this.


And yet

Gabriel clenched his eyes shut.

he couldn’t.
Stopping meant letting go of Emilie. It meant giving up on ever getting her back. Of ever making their family whole.
If he gave up now, that would make all he had done for nothing—including the child’s loss as well.
He was not completely heartless. A missing child would no doubt cause quite a bit of turmoil. It was no wonder Lady WiFi hadn’t listened to him, being too intent on searching for her friend. The feelings that had drawn his akuma to her...similar to the growing feelings settling on a number of Paris’s citizens.
Worry, sadness, fear, anger
all were emotions that would make perfect targets for his akumas. In any other circumstances, he would see fit to use that. However
given his part in this matter, the very thought of using the loss of a child to his advantage—especially when it was his fault—made him feel ill.
He would avoid targeting her friends or family. He owed her that much.
But he
he had to continue.
He had to make it worth it.
Once he saved Emilie, perhaps he could even use the Wish to bring back Miss Dupain-Cheng as well?
Then maybe

Maybe they would forgive him someday.
________________
Sure enough, a few days later it all came to a head.
When Adrien arrived in class that day after yet another failed attempt at contacting Master Fu, it was to a group of some of his classmates looking particularly concerned and surrounding an upset Juleka. The girl wasn't crying, but she looked to be close as Rose kept an arm around her shoulder and was trying to whisper words of comfort to her. The only ones not present were Max and Nathaniel.
"Don't worry.” Rose reassured her. “I’m sure they've just been misplaced somewhere."
Juleka shook her head firmly. "No. I keep them on my wall. I never move them, but they're just gone."
"Maybe your mom or Luka moved them?" Kim suggested.
"Not without telling me. And I asked them. Neither of them knew anything."
Adrien grew more concerned as he approached the group. "Guys, what's going on?"
Alix glanced over to him and answered. "Juleka's photos are missing."
That was a surprise. He knew how much actually appearing in a photograph meant to the girl. It would have to be upsetting to her to lose any of them.
"They were all the ones from the class photograph.” Mylene explained. "Remember? The ones we took in the park.”
Adrien winced internally before nodding. He had remembered full well that entire incident...and the akuma she turned into because of it...and the heels (god, the heels). They had taken quite a number that day and Juleka had seemed so happy when she went home with copies in hand. "Do you recall where you last left them?"
Juleka appeared more morose. "They're on my wall. They're always right there and I can't miss them. I put them up immediately after getting home and haven't moved them since. I know I saw them there yesterday, but when I got up this morning, the wall was completely blank."
"That's really weird.” Alya chimed in. "And you're saying no one moved them?"
Juleka shook her head.
The other classmates glanced to each other, appearing more uncertain. Adrien himself started to gain an unsettling feeling.
"I keep them all posted on a board in my room. They're right there and I can't miss them, but when I looked this morning
” She shook her head.
"I never move them."
"Maybe it's a prank?” Kim asked, but he sounded uncertain. If it was a prank, it was a cruel and rather pointless one.
Alix seemed to share that sentiment. "It's not a funny one. Who would even do that?"
The group looked around at each other. They were really the only ones who even knew Juleka's "curse” or about the pictures. But each of them simply looked confused over the matter.
"It couldn't have been a prank.” Ivan insisted. "Luka would never do that and their mother would punch out anyone who tried."
Mylene frowned, considering. "Juleka's house is a boat. One housing three people and isn't that big that someone could sneak on board without being seen."
“It’d be a pointless thing to do—sneak onto a boat just to mess with pictures and nothing else.” Kim noted. “Was anything else missing?”
Juleka shook her head. “Not that I know of. Just my pictures.”
"It's okay." Rose said, trying to be cheerful and calm her upset friend. "I have a couple extras of the photos we took in my notebook. We can copy them and replace the ones that went missing."
It wasn’t quite the same, but it was a suitable alternative for now. So with a solution to the more immediate problem at hand, Rose shared a bright smile that Juleka tried to return—albeit with a much more strained and shaky one. Rose didn't comment, instead going to her desk and pulling out her book bag.
“I keep them right in—”
The others looked over in confusion as Rose suddenly cut off, her expression turning confused.
"Rose? Everything okay?” Alix asked, growing worried at the prolonged silence.
Rose bit her lip and turned back to the group. "Did one of you maybe already take my notebook?"
Confusion seemed to be the theme of the day, as the classmates again glanced at one another before looking back to Rose.
"I'm not mad or anything!” Rose said, attempting to reassure them. "Since it's for Juleka, but if you already have it, I'd like to know where it is."
"Wait...are you saying your notebook is missing, too?" Nino asked.
Rose bit her lip, uncertain. "I don't—I mean, I guess so?"
"That's strange." Adrien said with a frown. He turned to the rest of the group in growing concern. "Look around. Is anyone else missing anything?"
The rest of the class searched through their bags, but fortunately, no one else seemed to be missing anything.
“That is odd. First Juleka’s pictures, then Rose’s diary? Why those things?” Alya wondered. She muttered to herself about an akuma and checked her blog to see if anyone had posted any similar cases on the matter.
The rest of the class took it upon themselves to try and offer some reassurance to the two girls that their items would be found.
“Maybe we can check the cameras?” Ivan suggested.
“That’s a lot of footage to go through though.” Nino pointed out.
“I bet Markov could go through it pretty quick.” Kim replied with a grin.
Adrien looked around at his classmates. It was good to see them mostly recovered from the ordeal with Lila and trying to help each other. But he couldn’t shake the feeling something was strange.
He could almost get a sense for it before he was interrupted by the timely yet untimely arrival of Max.
Kim smiled in relief at the sight of his friend. “Hey, Max! Buddy! Think you and Markov could give us a hand with a little investigation? Rose and Juleka seem to be missing some things and we figured maybe you could help!”
Max, for his part, looked concerned and a bit guilty. "I'm sorry, but Markov and I are already busy trying to assist Nathaniel and Marc. It seems that somehow, their collaborative comic has been erased."
Multiple gasp and moans of horror and disappointment filled the room at that. Everyone really enjoyed that comic and they had been really looking forward to the next installment.
"Do you know what caused it?" Mylene asked.
"We've been doing everything we could, but we haven't been able to find anything about the comic in the computer. I suspect it may be a virus of some kind, but there's no trace of anything of the sort. We're trying to help them work this out. They had gotten a lot of work done on this comic and I'd hate to see it lost."
"I'm sure you'll figure it out. You're amazing when it comes to technology." Kim said with a grin, fully confident in his friend's capabilities.
But Max didn't look enthused. "I'm not so sure. Markov can't find any trace of an outside program or of the comic even being there.” He waved his hands. “It’s like it just
vanished!”
Adrien frowned. Three things in one day. It
couldn’t just be coincidence, could it?
“Can it do that?”
“Not like that. Not normally.”
"This is strange.” Mylene said anxiously, gripping Ivan’s hand. “A lot of things seem to be missing."
Alya frowned, looking at her phone. "Speaking of strange things, I just got a hit to the Ladyblog. It's Marinette's parents. They want to talk to Ladybug and Chat Noir as soon as possible."
Several of the classmates perked in surprise.
“Could it be an akuma?”
“Do you think they’re okay?”
“Did they find something about Marinette?”
“But why call for Ladybug and Chat Noir then?”
“Huh? Hey, Adrien, where are you going? Class is about to start!”
Adrien barely took notice. He was already out the door.
______________________
If he hadn't already received the message, Chat would have known immediately that something was wrong. Rolland and Gina Dupain were present at the bakery. He knew little regarding the Dupain family, but he had been under the impression that the two were not on good terms. But they were actually working together without issue, with Gina working the counter and Rolland working the kitchen with nary a grumble regarding the bread.
When Chat arrived, Gina immediately called for Tom. And within seconds, he was quickly rushed in by the much taller man, who
did not look well.
The giant, kind bear of a man looked like he had aged since the last time he had seen him. Not to any great or unnatural extent, but it was clear that stress had impacted him.
Losing a child would do that to you, he realized. But whatever else was going on was certainly doing him no favors.
"Thank you for coming." Tom said with clear relief as he opened the door.
Chat nodded in return as he entered. "It's not a problem. But your message sounded urgent. Has there been any word on Marinette?" Like hopefully that she returned and the bakery was closed so the parents could smother her in affection?
He was hopeful. He was a hopeful guy.
Tom shook his head. "I don't know how to explain it. It's best if you see it for yourself." With that, he led the way through the back. Chat followed with some growing trepidation and jumped when he entered the living area.
Sabine was there. Her gaze practically snapped to him the instant he appeared, though she didn't otherwise move. The woman was sitting on the couch, clutching a box of what appeared to contain an assortment of clothes and dolls. Marinette's things, he realized. But why? Comfort, perhaps?
But Sabine didn't look sad or in need of comfort. If anything, her expression made him wary to approach her. She looked upset no—not just upset, but downright angry. She was on guard and watching him with a strange sort of hypervigilance. Like she'd literally bite his hand off if he got too close. He had no doubt that magical suit or not, the woman probably could.
Chat had thought the grandparents had looked particularly tired. Like perhaps they hadn’t slept in a while. But Tom and Sabine both looked like they had slept even less.
For her part, Sabine’s eyes narrowed at him and she pulled the box closer to her and as out of his sight as possible. It bothered him, because it was strange for someone to be clutching a box like that. She wasn't looking to the things inside for solace, she was warily watching everything else around her.
Something was wrong.
More wrong, he amended.
"We noticed it after a few days, but we didn't know what to think." Tom said, softly as he continued to lead the hero up the stairs and through the house. "It looked like some of her things had been moved around. At first we thought that maybe she'd found a way back home. Or that she was trying to communicate with us somehow. But... “He opened the door and allowed Chat into the room.
When Chat finally entered Marinette's room, he couldn't help feeling bewildered.
Was it always this empty, he wondered? He glanced around at the different areas of Marinette's room, noting the differences and the overall"Šlacking. The walls were missing pictures. There was nothing on the desk. The mannequin that was normally adorned with the beginnings of some sort of outfit or new piece wasn't even present, leaving a sadly empty space in the room. There weren't even the knick knacks or textiles or yarn or cloth pieces that he remembered seeing previously. It looked like a room. It even looked like someone lived in it. But it was bare of a lot of what made it Marinette's.
Tom looked around the room in growing dismay. "It's getting worse."
Chat blinked in confusion. "What?"
"The posters are gone now. So are the gloves she had been working on. Several of the pictures changed before they disappeared." Tom looked to Chat, eyes begging for an answer. "We checked frequently, but bit by bit, they were gone before we realized it. It's like they're just...”
"They're fading." Chat realized in growing horror. He'd started to suspect, given Juleka's pictures and Rose's diary, but this confirmed it.
This wasn't natural.
Marinette didn't run away. Nothing so simple could explain what he had been seeing so far. No human could pull this off, and he knew Marinette was far from the sort to even try, no matter the reason. This was magic, he was sure of it.
"Sabine and I have been taking shifts. Whenever we looked away, something else was gone. So we just...” He shrugged helplessly before gesturing down the ladder.
Downstairs. To where Sabine sat hoarding a box with all the ferocity of a dragon guarding its gold.
He understood now. Marinette's mother wasn't holding onto Marinette's belongings out of missing her child, she was literally trying to keep them from disappearing!
Her room. The pictures. The notebook. The comic. They were all connected by her influence. Everything Marinette owned or had a part in was starting to fade away. Her parents figured it out and they were trying to protect what was left of their daughter.
He clenched his fists.
He had to talk to Ladybug.
______________________
How frustrating.
It had been weeks, but Ladybug had made little progress in her self appointed mission to track down Hawk Moth. And it had been vexing, especially given his recent silence. Other than Lady Wifi, there hadn’t been any other akuma attacks. Even in spite of the more despondent atmosphere she had noticed around the Francois Dupont school as of late.
He must be planning something...
Surely there had to be some minor issue he would consider escalating to akuma-worthy. That incident in the park with that strange old man certainly stood out in her mind as one such missed opportunity for the supervillain.
...who even was that man? He acted like he knew her and was spouting...the strangest things.
Who she was before she became Ladybug? Someone beneath the mask? He ‘knew’ her?
Ridiculous.
Clearly he had been suffering some ailment when he happened upon her.
She sighed.
It was unfortunate really. For a brief moment there, she had almost thought the man had known something valuable. He had seemed so earnest. And she could almost swear he seemed...familiar? Like she had met him somewhere before.
She rubbed her head, trying to recall. It wasn’t just this time or the one incident before. Maybe she had rescued him once? Maybe he was one of the civilians she had chatted with on some previous occasion? And that could be how he thought he knew her?
Maybe...
“Ladybug! LADYBUG!”
At the sound of someone calling for her, she stopped and turned around to see Chat running towards her. She was glad to see him again, but from his expression and the way he was running, it looked like this wasn’t a social visit.
“Chat? Is everything all right?” She asked once he had finally reached her. “Is there an akuma?”
“No! I mean yes! I mean—not exactly!” He shook his head. “Sorry, just
”
She couldn’t understand him through his babbling. Ladybug frowned and held her hands out, gesturing for his silence to get his attention.
“Chat, calm down and breathe. Then tell me what is wrong.”
To her further annoyance, he took a deep—somewhat exaggerated breath. If nothing else, however, it did serve to get him to settle and be able to speak normally.
“Listen, I think something may have gone wrong in the last akuma battle. Well—not the last one, but the last last one.”

semi-normally.
At least she could understand him, at any rate.
Still, that was concerning. “What do you mean?”
She had stopped that akuma, hadn’t she?
“A friend of mine disappeared after that battle and never reappeared. Now she’s missing.”
“You mean that Marinette girl? Chat, it’s likely she may have run away.”
“NO. She didn’t. I was worried about that at first, but she wouldn’t and I was right. Other things are disappearing now! Everything of hers or that she had a hand in is literally fading away! She had to have been hit by that erasing akuma.”
“That’s impossible. The Miraculous Cure fixes all the damage caused by an akuma fight.”
“But Marinette hasn’t returned!”
“Then maybe she wasn’t involved with the akuma fight at all.”
“Her things are disappearing! Anything that reminds people of her are suddenly vanishing if people aren’t constantly watching them! That’s not normal! That’s magic.”
“Did you actually see anything disappear?”
He paused.
“Well—not directly myself, no.” He admitted, rubbing his head. “But a lot of people have said things are disappearing. And they all seem to be things she had some involvement or influence in.”
Marinette had come up with the idea for Rose’s journal after Chloe had insulted it. She had helped Juleka break her curse and take all those fun photos to make up for the class picture. Marc and Nathaniel’s comic only got started because Marinette had introduced them. And from what he saw at the bakery, the effect was expanding.
He froze, a creeping realization sinking in.
If it was expanding, just how much would be gone?
“But if you haven’t seen it, then how do you know that it’s an akuma?”
“But they said—”
She shook her head. “Chat, it could just be coincidence. People misplace things. Lose things. Throw things away and forget about them. It happens. That doesn’t make it noteworthy and doesn’t mean it’s magic. Sometimes, those things are just gone.”
“But they—”
“You have to face facts, Chat Noir. If she’s gone, she may not return.”
He’d had enough.
“What is WRONG with you?”
He had plenty of times where he felt annoyed or angry with Ladybug. When she rejected him. When she kept secrets. When she didn’t seem to take him seriously. Looking back, those instances seemed so incredibly petty compared to how he felt in this moment.
Never had he ever wanted to shake her the way he did now.
“A girl is missing! She is literally fading from existence and you don’t care!”
“Chat, you don’t even know that’s actually the case! There are other things to worry about right now!”
“This is a person’s LIFE AT STAKE!”
Ladybug simply looked unimpressed. “Everyone’s life is at stake against Hawk Moth, Chat! And you would have me put him on hold just for one person?”
“She isn’t just one person!”
She was a person! She had a name! And a family! And friends! And a dream! She was an up and coming designer! Jagged Stone’s artist! Their class representative! His classmate!
She...
She was his...
Now Ladybug looked almost...sad? Disappointed?
“You’re too attached to this girl to think about this objectively, Chat. You are letting your emotions cloud your judgement. As a hero, you need to be impartial.”
He grit his teeth.
He wanted to say something.
He wanted to say so much.
But instead, he turned tail and stormed off.
It was Ladybug. His partner. The person he would follow in any crisis. He knew to an extent that she had a point, because yeah, he had a tendency to act on his emotions rather than think things through. But...she sounded like she didn’t care.
What else could he do?
So he ran away.
But Ladybug...
She simply stood there. Her head tilted in confusion as she watched him go. She watched for a minute before she shrugged it off and turned away. She didn't try to go after him. Not once did she call out to him.
Her partner was running away from her...
...and she just let him.
______________________
Tom knew something was wrong.
It had been a busy day in the bakery. Despite the circumstances in the current situation with her daughter being missing, they couldn't just keep the bakery closed. After all, Marinette had to have a place to come back to at some point. And they needed to keep living.
But that didn't mean it wasn't hard.
Tom and Sabine had been torn. In their current state, they were hard pressed to keep the bakery running and also focus on efforts to find their daughter. It was even worse now that they had distinct reason to believe magic was involved.
It had been fortunate that both Gina and Rolland had been willing to put their differences and issues aside to come help. They had been a substantial support during this time. When Tom had reached out to them, Gina had cut short her trip to Peru to fly back to Paris and assist, mentioning using her connections to deal with some of the cartels in the area known for human trafficking on the chance they happened to be involved. And Rolland had taken to the traditional methods of posting Marinette’s MISSING picture at various locations.
Seeing the current situation with the parents, both had gone so far as to agree to help in the bakery. Gina had agreed to manage the storefront while Rolland had taken to helping in the kitchen. Surprisingly with minimal complaint about the bread. And even willing to close his own bakery in the meantime.
He was still difficult, but it was clear the man was trying. And he was more help than not.
This allowed Tom and Sabine to be able to breathe. There were points where one or the other would have to go to the back when things got to be too much. From the normal stress of the job itself to the pitying looks and questions they would sometimes get. And now to try to keep count of what else of their daughter’s had disappeared when they weren’t looking. Which meant they had taken to shifts during the night as well in hopes that their presence would slow down the process.
Sabine had been quite focused on this for the past few days, willing to leave the majority of the bakery work to the other three. But one could only spend so long staring at a box and a slowly emptying room, and she had eventually agreed to Tom’s pleas to just try to return to a regular work day if only to restore a sense of normalcy.
...he should have realized something was up the instant she had agreed.
She had switched with Gina in working the front and dealing with the customers. Plastering a perfect smile and jovial tone, as if her world wasn’t crumbling. He was concerned with her state, but Tom had wondered if this wasn’t her way of trying to cope. Sabine had long had a way of being a pillar of calm in any storm, so he had decided to trust in her.
But then there were the more...delicate customers.
Enrique Arnette was never an easy man to deal with. Pretentious, high-handed, and with a need to be catered to in a way that rivaled with Audrey Bourgeois. He could be her brother, all things considered. They were both loud and full of themselves. Only she, at least, had the power and capability to back her.
Unlike Audrey, Enrique was just loud. Loud and entitled. He was well known for being picky and making specific demands that some questioned might be less about what he actually wanted and more about looking for a reason to get upset and cause a fuss. But Tom and Sabine's Bakery seemed to be one of the few places capable of meeting his picky and overly extravagant standards.
Usually, Sabine was more than capable of handling him or any other contrary customer.
But today...
"What is this? Are you supposed to be a bakery or a crematorium?"
It was like nothing she did was satisfactory.
It might have been the stress getting to her. Tom would have believed that.
Except that the smile on her face was like ice. And her eyes were like steel. When he tried to step in to take over handling the order, Sabine clutched the plate in an iron grip. And as she looked up at him, her gaze was downright unnerving.
"Let me handle this."
Tom didn't dare disagree. He just watched and waited anxiously to the side as Sabine continued to try and fail to fulfill his order.
It was too cooked.
There was too much syrup.
The fruit was mashed.
The design was poorly done.
As Enrique became more frustrated, Tom noticed how Sabine neither stood up to the verbal tirade, nor did she apologize.
And his wife's expression was a knowing one.
It was...unusual for her. If he didn't know better...or maybe because he did know better, he couldn't stop himself from wondering if it was intentional?
The way she was messing up the order so many times was not like her, to the point he could swear it was on purpose. And her attitude and responses, while not outright rude, were not customer-friendly and were certainly far from her norm.
Was she...trying to upset him?
"What kind of service is this?!" The man demanded.
Tom stepped forward. "Dear, why don't I handle this and you can take a break, okay?"
But Sabine didn't even look at Tom. Her gaze remained fully on Enrique.
"If it is so displeasing to you, perhaps you would find service more befitting of your station in a dumpster?"
Everyone froze.
Sabine was many things. Matronly. Firm at times when needed. Soft at other times when it isn't. Fully willing to stand up to people.
But she was never rude. And she would never insult anyone like this.
Enrique’s face turned red in growing rage.
"What did you say?"
“Are you deaf?” She asked him congenially in a tone and manner as if she was commenting on the weather instead of actively insulting the man. “Or is there as much trash filling your ears as there is your mouth?”
Tom gaped momentarily before moving forward to intervene. “Sabine, why don’t you just—”
“HOW DARE YOU?!” Enrique shouted, almost on the verge of a shriek. “I have NEVER been so insulted in my life!”
“Then clearly people weren’t trying hard enough.” Sabine shot back derisively. “If you aren’t going to take your needlessly complicated and pretentious order, then get out and let someone else.”
Gasps and murmurs resounded.
He turned up his nose. “I won’t pay a euro for that mess or your attitude! If anything, you should be paying ME at this point for the insult! And trust me, I WILL be making you pay!”
Shouts of alarm got Tom’s attention, along with the sound of wings.
“Oh no!”
And akuma had gotten into the store, no doubt attracted to Enrique’s indignation as it fluttered its way towards the irate man.
Except that in the second before the akuma could reach him and assimilate into his watch—
SLAM!
Sabine had caught the akuma in midair before it could reach Enrique, her hand covered in an old worn oven mitt.
Everyone jerked back in shock and growing horror.
But Tom just stared in sorrowful realization.
He recognized that mitt. It was one of the first things Marinette had made and gifted to her mother.
It was one of her few possessions that remained.
One that Sabine had refused to part with.
"No." He murmured. "Sabine. Honey, no.”
His wife couldn't hear him.
The glowing mask was indicative that it was already too late.
325 notes · View notes